Chapter 2 - Troll in Trouble
The woods were still. It was late evening and the handover between day creatures; pheasants, crows and doves and the keen eyed night creatures; fox, owl, bat and mouse was underway. Day creatures were now roosting. Night creatures were stirring as the full darkness of night arrived.
Eventually, attracted by the smell from the Dursleys' wheelybin a sly old fox loped into the clearing. It sniffed at the metal cage, listened and looked intently. It was wary because this was an unusual thing, and worse, a man thing. There were no men nearby now though. The fox's keen sense of smell told him that there had been someone here earlier in the day but the scent was cold. Still, the fox knew, people were cunning and could be cruel. They sometimes laid traps for animals. Evil traps that bit or snared or poisoned. It would have to be careful.
The fox circled the cage twice and could not sense any danger. It found that two bars of the cage had buckled and bent apart enough for it to get inside. It slipped through and started to snuffle among the rubbish that was spilling from the bin. Suddenly from nowhere, it seemed, there was a resounding and earth-shaking clang. The fox was startled and bewildered. Was this some new man trap?
The bars of the cage shook and groaned.
The fox could not at first find the gap in the bars to escape and slowly the whole cage lifted off the ground. The fox scrabbled to avoid being pinned beneath the bin that was rolling inside the cage. Then everything was still.
The cage was a few metres above the ground. It was being held firmly by two large grey coarse hands. The hands were attached to stout and very tough looking arms. A massive head peered in through the bars at the fox which was hissing and baring its teeth, the fur on its back now bristling. Two pale greyish blue eyes stared at the fox and blinked twice. The brow above the eyes became furrowed in a curious rather than menacing way and then slowly relaxed again. The large stony head tilted to one side slightly as if trying to size up its captive.
A low yet soft voice said, 'mine - my food - bad fox.'
The fox of course did not understand the words but it understood plainly enough that it would be safer if it was somewhere else. Spotting the opening in the bars at last and gathering its wits, the fox leapt for the gap. Desperately with much desperate scrambling from its hind legs it broke free and jumped. In an instant, the fox was gone, its tail disappearing around the base of the crooked oak.
The young mountain troll watched it go.
His attention returned to the cage. He had found over the past few days that the bin from that particular house had always been very rich in food. The smalls (for that is what Trolls called humans) who lived inside the house were clearly very wasteful but this suited Block. Half eaten cakes, mouldy fruit, leftover vegetables were always abundant and a young mountain troll like Block needed plenty of food.
His frustration borne of hunger a few nights previously had made him a little excited. That had lead to the cage being tossed high in the air out of the garden. Being a youth, Block benefited from an abundance of both strength and agility. He already stood about three metres tall but he had what could only be described as boyish looks. His second teeth were fully through but his jaw had not fully developed which meant he looked somewhat goofy. Nevertheless, he was by troll standards quite a handsome lad with the healthy a ruddy complexion of one who spent much of his time out of doors. He was skinny compared to an adult but he already possessed immense strength and he was slight enough to exhibit an athleticism that would no doubt disappear as he filled out in his teen years.
He had considered battering the cage to pieces there and then in the rear with his trusty club. But he knew that this was bound to bring the smalls out of their slumber and maybe his normal trick of standing still laying flat and freezing like a pile of stones would not be enough. Trolls were very good at hiding despite their enormous size. They could in an instant blend themselves into their surroundings and normally anyone passing by would take no notice of them whatsoever. For Block this was made easier by the fact that he was less than half fully grown. In troll terms he was considered a small child although he was a good metre taller than a fully grown small.
Block now sat in the clearing and finished eating anything remotely tasty including much of the packaging and wrappings (trolls have very tough stomachs). Block let out a reasonably satisfactory belch. This lifted his spirits slightly and he thought of happier times at the dining slab when the whole family would indulge in glorious belching competitions. Block thought of his elder brother, Boulder, who could always manage the best belches that sometimes lasted for several minutes and his mother would joke, 'Boulder stop, or the roof will end up on our heads.'
Those were happy times.
Now Block was confused, lost and very lonely. Perhaps he would go foraging for food later when the smalls were quiet but for now he curled up into himself and went back to sleep.
He did not sleep deeply though. He was uneasy of course in these strange surroundings. But something else was troubling him. The boy who had visited him earlier in the day was somehow different from the other smalls. Block could tell. In many respects mountain trolls are relatively dull witted and slow but by their nature they are very sensitive to their environment. They have excellent sense of direction being able to tell from the bedrock beneath their feet and its inherent magnetic field which way was which. Mountain trolls, being especially sensitive to vibrations, feel as well as hear noise and disturbance. They can tell all manner of things from the tiniest murmurs carried through the rock. They can sense underground caves and streams and know when a rockfall has occurred far away. But trolls could also distinguish much more subtle forces of nature. They could also sense other things that were invisible to the naked eye but nevertheless disturbed the natural balance and the boy was different. Block was not sure in what way but it brought back memories of the night several days ago when he had been separated from his family.
While block slept, his mind was filled with fleeting images that he still could not understand. In his dream he recalled what had happened to his clan and then to him......
He saw fire and dragons and a dark figure in a cloak driving all of Block's clan of trolls to the centre of their mountain village. A few trolls tried to fight but dragon fire could turn a club to cinders in a moment and easily cracked the hides of trolls. Several trolls perished. There was much fear, confusion and noise. Not for many many generations had there been a dragon attack.
Block had hidden cowering at the back of his cave and blended as best he could into his bed of shale and gravel. He was small and easily overlooked.
He wanted to join his parents but at the same time knew that there was great peril; they would want him to do what a troll does when it needs to hide, 'remember Block, first sign of trouble turn to rubble,' his mother had always told him, 'we trolls rely on being hidden away from others, that is how it's always been and that is how it must stay.'
So Block had kept very still looking out towards the entrance of his cave trying to guess what was happening. The noise outside was lessening and in a very short time, it had stopped altogether. There was silence and even the ground was absolutely still.
Normally in the village there was a constant buzz from the bedrock as trolls went about their daily routines. At this part of his dream, however the mountain had become silent which was strange. This meant that all of the other trolls were gone. But how could that be in so short a time? Were they all killed?
Block eventually ventured from his cave and found the place completely deserted. For the first time in his life he felt completely alone and he had cried loud and hard in a stone bursting voice that echoed across the hills.
There had been no reply.
Then suddenly from the low cloud past streaming overhead, a great red and black dragon swooped low over him. It jerked its head towards him, screeched and turned and hovered eyeing him with yellow venomous eyes. Jaws full of razor sharp teeth opened and closed silently. On its back there was a figure.
Block had never heard of anything actually riding on a dragon before. Dragons were wild and free and not readily tamed but this dragon was clearly being controlled by something riding on its back concealed under a silver-grey cloak. The figure spoke in a dark and menacing tone 'what is this then? A man-sized troll! Well rubble child I know just the place for you. You have no magic in you as such so Dumbledore's protections will not affect you. Go now and see what havoc you can cause. You are no use to me in my mines. The rest of your clan will serve me well enough. I am going to send you somewhere else. When you get there look for a boy with a scar on his brow and be sure to smash his bones.'
With that, the dragon let forth a hail of flames that covered Block. Block curled into a ball expecting to be burned to cinders and he wailed in terror. The roar of the fire combined with the laughter of the rider still now haunting him in his dream.
Then there was silence.
The dragon and its mount were gone - or, more precisely, Block had gone. He had uncurled and found himself alive and on the cool grassy floor of a wood. He had no idea how he had moved from his mountain home to this place but it was obvious that he was no longer in the mountains. The ground felt very different. It had all happened in an instant and Block's senses had been spinning when he had arrived in the woods in a state of utter disorientation. It was too much for him and all he could do was curl into a ball before he fainted.
Block awoke from his dream suddenly alert and scared. He was back in the woods and it was very dark but the words of the rider who had taken his family were still ringing in his ears, 'a boy with a scar on his brow...smash his bones.'
Trolls were sometimes excitable creatures and when dropped into strange places and threatened they were prone to strong reactions. Some trolls had worse tempers than others.
Block's Uncle Cragheart was particularly prone to fits of rage and was regarded by Block and most of the troll community as a bad sort. For trolls this was of course saying something but Cragheart was definitely the sort of mountain troll that gave their kind a bad name.
Cragheart did occasionally disappear from the clan and a few months previously he'd returned with a very strange tale to tell. Cragheart told the clan of how he had woken in a great old house of smalls and he had no idea how he had got there. He had been chased - or was he chasing? - he couldn't really say. He was excited though and his club had hit out at anything that moved including three young smalls who had been particularly irritating. He was being chased and trapped and he remembered having a sharp stick stuck up his nose before there had been a blinding pain on the top of his head and everything had suddenly gone dark. He had then awoken with a sore head back on the mountainside near the clan. If it hadn't been for the fact that he had lost his club and found a large bump on his head he would have thought it a dream.
Block was young however and his mother, Hardfist, had always said the he had a kind heart. In fact most mountain trolls would resort to violence only as a last resort and would have under similar circumstances tried their best to hide and escape rather than going on the rampage. This was very much the case with Block. It was true to say that he was not as excitable as most and certainly very different from his Uncle Cragheart.
Cragheart was Block's Uncle and was one of the more war-like members of the clan. The clan elders often felt that Cragheart was much too hasty but Block's brother Boulder admired him greatly. Cragheart had always argued that trolls should have a higher standing in the world than they currently had. This was worrying talk to most trolls who liked living quietly and peacefully up in the hills.
Boulder had used to chide Block over his softness calling him names like Sapwood of Moss-head but this really didn't worry Block. He had been happy playing in his mountain home. He was fond of the mountain wildlife, especially the green dragons from the sunny side of the hills.
Being small but very strong he was a great climber and he loved roving over the spurs and crags of the mountain. He had once rescued an injured young dragon and nursed it back to health. Since that time he had been accepted among the wild dragons of his mountains.
The green dragons were very different from the red and black serpent beasts that had attacked his home a few weeks before. Block would climb to the sheer cliffs to the south of the mountain and watch the young dragons in wonder as they swooped and dived at one another.
In his time with the green dragons, Block had learned to communicate with them after a fashion and a bond had been forged between him and the young dragon Sarphin. He missed Sarphin now. Sarphin would have been able to fly high and spy out the lay of the land for him. Between them they would have soon found their way back to Block's home in the mountains.
Block knew he would soon have to set out to find his home but he simply had no idea which way to turn. He was as likely to end up farther away rather than nearer to home. His sense of direction could not help when he had no recollection of travelling from his home. Block had no understanding of magic and so couldn't know that the dark wizard on the dragon had used very strong and old magic to send Block over a hundred miles in an instant. There was not even the smallest thread linking him to his home.
There were however more immediate concerns. It would be getting light in a few hours and Block would be forced to hide during the day so he must go foraging quickly or otherwise go hungry. He headed for the houses. Block's keen sense of smell told him that the house where the cage had been was most promising and he decided to start there.
The trickiest parts of his travels through the gardens were the fences and hedges. Many were nearly as high as he was but they were nowhere near strong enough to take his weight therefore he had to jump. Even for a relatively small and agile mountain troll this was not an easy feat but over the past couple of weeks Block had become quite adept at this. Of course, while he had been learning there had been accidents but he noted that the smalls seemed happy to come out and repair the fences on a regular basis.
He was now getting quite proficient at fence hopping and this was to some extent helped by the fact that he had lost a considerable amount of weight since his arrival in the woods. And so it was that Block readied himself on the wood side of the hedge of No.4 Privet Drive and after a short run up performed a hand spring off the top of the bank. After a twisting somersault he landed squarely and surprisingly lightly in the middle of the Dursley's back garden.
Block froze immediately. He knew straight away the he had made a serious mistake in his childish haste for food. He sensed the presence of the human boy who had visited his clearing during the day - the aura was unmistakable.
'Hello there,' said the boy who had visited him at the cage earlier in the day. 'Don't be afraid. I can help you. You must be lost.'
Block continued to stand very very still. Normally a small would ignore a frozen troll totally disregarding it as a lump of stone, as long as the troll had had a moment to role up into a ball but in this case it was obviously too late.
He had just done a somersault with half twist and a rather good landing and for his stupidity he had also been spectacularly caught.
He had been so stupid. Why hadn't he crept into the garden quietly? His options were now few as far as he could reckon.
He could run for it and this was his first instinct but he felt that this was slightly ludicrous because the boy did not appear to be at all threatening and was much smaller than him - anyway the damage was already done.
He could fight. He had fashioned himself a reliable club during his time in the wood but this wasn't in his nature at all.
Or he could wait for a bit and see what happened. He felt ridiculous.
It was certainly strange, thought Block, that this boy was so calm. On the rare occasions when smalls did come across mountain trolls there was normally one loud scream followed by a flump as the person fainted. As long as the troll left quickly the small would normally wake up dazed confused and willing to believe that their imagination had done something very mean to them. The alternative; that they actually had come face to face with a five metre tall mountain troll (which everyone knows simply do not exist) was not an options and that was the end of that. This boy however was simply leaning against a wall in a dark corner away from the moonlight.
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments.
'Hellooo!' said the boy. This time slightly louder as if he was calling further than the distance to Block.
The boy continued, 'I knew you were a Troll when I came to the woods today. I would recognize the smell of troll bogies anywhere and the last time I met one of your sort my wand, this wand,' said the boy holding up what appeared to Block to be a short pointy stick, 'got covered in troll bogies. It smelled for weeks. That troll was a lot bigger than you though. I knew you wouldn't wake up for me there and then but I guessed that you would turn up here sooner or later especially if I left plenty of food out.'
Block looked down and saw a cardboard box of cakes, fruit and vegetables. His stomach was rumbling like it was full of rolling rocks out of hunger.
But now Block was doubly worried. This must be the boy who had beaten Uncle Cragheart. The boy had also set a trap for him. Block looked about him but there was little to stop him from leaving if he wished.
The boy stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight and Block gaped as he noticed the scar on his forehead. Now Block was really panicking and didn't know what to do. This was the boy that the dragon rider had talked about.
'....smash his bones.....'
This was too much for Block. His brain wasn't working and to try to bring it back to life he gave himself three good hard whacks on his own head with his club.
By the time he came back to his senses (which were scarcely any the better for the battering that he had just subjected them to) he looked down at the boy who was picking up the box of food.
'Here, this is for you. Don't be scared. I can see you're just a kid, sort of just like me. My name is Harry... Harry Potter ..how do you do.'
Block considered the situation for a moment - if he ran he would be leaving a rather tasty box of food. Yet, how could this boy be so friendly? Block in the end let his stomach decide for him.
He said in a drawling voice, 'hello Harry Potter, Block is hungry.'
The boy laughed and said, 'well, Block, you'd better tuck into this lot then. It's my cousin's really but I'm sure that he won't mind.'
Harry passed the box to Block who sat down and ate the food....box and all.
'Thank you Harry Potter,' said Block politely. His mother had always extolled the virtues of those with good manners especially when eating at someone else's home. Block doubted that she had in her wildest dreams envisaged a situation like this. The very idea made Block want to laugh and he grinned sheepishly as he ate. The boy also smiled and as they observed each other both realized that perhaps they had found a friend.
'No problem Block you're very welcome,' said Harry holding out his hand.
Slowly Block took Harry's hand and shook it.
'Whoa! Not so hard!' said Harry.
Block immediately let go and looked fearful.
Harry laughed again and said, 'don't worry,' but he was shaking his arm vigorously.
'I'll be fine Block. Now then, I've got loads of questions to ask you but now is probably not the time and....' Harry looked up at Uncle Vernon's window, 'this is certainly not the place. I do not want to wake my Uncle and besides, the milkman will be here soon so you had better get out of here.'
Sure enough the first hint of blue was beginning to appear in the sky to the east and birds were beginning to stir in the trees. It would soon be morning.
'Head on back to the clearing and I'll come and see you later.'
'OK Harry Potter,' said Block and with that Block turned and left; this time with a less spectacular hop over the garden hedge.
A few moments later Block was back at his clearing.
For a while he sat and tried to make sense of the extraordinary events that had just taken place.
Block had sensed that the boy certainly had the same something as the dragon rider. But there was also a difference in the shade of that strange feeling. The dragon rider had been cold and dark but Block could sense that the boy was kind.
Block liked the idea of meeting the boy again soon. Perhaps the boy would be able to help him find his way home. With that thought, which was the first optimistic thought that Block had had since arriving in the woods, and also with a satisfyingly full stomach he settled down to sleep.
Pretty soon he was what most passers by would consider to be just an ordinary pile of rocks. However, he did still have a runny nose and while he slept there was a small trickle of bogies running from his head, over his arm to the ground.
The woods were still. It was late evening and the handover between day creatures; pheasants, crows and doves and the keen eyed night creatures; fox, owl, bat and mouse was underway. Day creatures were now roosting. Night creatures were stirring as the full darkness of night arrived.
Eventually, attracted by the smell from the Dursleys' wheelybin a sly old fox loped into the clearing. It sniffed at the metal cage, listened and looked intently. It was wary because this was an unusual thing, and worse, a man thing. There were no men nearby now though. The fox's keen sense of smell told him that there had been someone here earlier in the day but the scent was cold. Still, the fox knew, people were cunning and could be cruel. They sometimes laid traps for animals. Evil traps that bit or snared or poisoned. It would have to be careful.
The fox circled the cage twice and could not sense any danger. It found that two bars of the cage had buckled and bent apart enough for it to get inside. It slipped through and started to snuffle among the rubbish that was spilling from the bin. Suddenly from nowhere, it seemed, there was a resounding and earth-shaking clang. The fox was startled and bewildered. Was this some new man trap?
The bars of the cage shook and groaned.
The fox could not at first find the gap in the bars to escape and slowly the whole cage lifted off the ground. The fox scrabbled to avoid being pinned beneath the bin that was rolling inside the cage. Then everything was still.
The cage was a few metres above the ground. It was being held firmly by two large grey coarse hands. The hands were attached to stout and very tough looking arms. A massive head peered in through the bars at the fox which was hissing and baring its teeth, the fur on its back now bristling. Two pale greyish blue eyes stared at the fox and blinked twice. The brow above the eyes became furrowed in a curious rather than menacing way and then slowly relaxed again. The large stony head tilted to one side slightly as if trying to size up its captive.
A low yet soft voice said, 'mine - my food - bad fox.'
The fox of course did not understand the words but it understood plainly enough that it would be safer if it was somewhere else. Spotting the opening in the bars at last and gathering its wits, the fox leapt for the gap. Desperately with much desperate scrambling from its hind legs it broke free and jumped. In an instant, the fox was gone, its tail disappearing around the base of the crooked oak.
The young mountain troll watched it go.
His attention returned to the cage. He had found over the past few days that the bin from that particular house had always been very rich in food. The smalls (for that is what Trolls called humans) who lived inside the house were clearly very wasteful but this suited Block. Half eaten cakes, mouldy fruit, leftover vegetables were always abundant and a young mountain troll like Block needed plenty of food.
His frustration borne of hunger a few nights previously had made him a little excited. That had lead to the cage being tossed high in the air out of the garden. Being a youth, Block benefited from an abundance of both strength and agility. He already stood about three metres tall but he had what could only be described as boyish looks. His second teeth were fully through but his jaw had not fully developed which meant he looked somewhat goofy. Nevertheless, he was by troll standards quite a handsome lad with the healthy a ruddy complexion of one who spent much of his time out of doors. He was skinny compared to an adult but he already possessed immense strength and he was slight enough to exhibit an athleticism that would no doubt disappear as he filled out in his teen years.
He had considered battering the cage to pieces there and then in the rear with his trusty club. But he knew that this was bound to bring the smalls out of their slumber and maybe his normal trick of standing still laying flat and freezing like a pile of stones would not be enough. Trolls were very good at hiding despite their enormous size. They could in an instant blend themselves into their surroundings and normally anyone passing by would take no notice of them whatsoever. For Block this was made easier by the fact that he was less than half fully grown. In troll terms he was considered a small child although he was a good metre taller than a fully grown small.
Block now sat in the clearing and finished eating anything remotely tasty including much of the packaging and wrappings (trolls have very tough stomachs). Block let out a reasonably satisfactory belch. This lifted his spirits slightly and he thought of happier times at the dining slab when the whole family would indulge in glorious belching competitions. Block thought of his elder brother, Boulder, who could always manage the best belches that sometimes lasted for several minutes and his mother would joke, 'Boulder stop, or the roof will end up on our heads.'
Those were happy times.
Now Block was confused, lost and very lonely. Perhaps he would go foraging for food later when the smalls were quiet but for now he curled up into himself and went back to sleep.
He did not sleep deeply though. He was uneasy of course in these strange surroundings. But something else was troubling him. The boy who had visited him earlier in the day was somehow different from the other smalls. Block could tell. In many respects mountain trolls are relatively dull witted and slow but by their nature they are very sensitive to their environment. They have excellent sense of direction being able to tell from the bedrock beneath their feet and its inherent magnetic field which way was which. Mountain trolls, being especially sensitive to vibrations, feel as well as hear noise and disturbance. They can tell all manner of things from the tiniest murmurs carried through the rock. They can sense underground caves and streams and know when a rockfall has occurred far away. But trolls could also distinguish much more subtle forces of nature. They could also sense other things that were invisible to the naked eye but nevertheless disturbed the natural balance and the boy was different. Block was not sure in what way but it brought back memories of the night several days ago when he had been separated from his family.
While block slept, his mind was filled with fleeting images that he still could not understand. In his dream he recalled what had happened to his clan and then to him......
He saw fire and dragons and a dark figure in a cloak driving all of Block's clan of trolls to the centre of their mountain village. A few trolls tried to fight but dragon fire could turn a club to cinders in a moment and easily cracked the hides of trolls. Several trolls perished. There was much fear, confusion and noise. Not for many many generations had there been a dragon attack.
Block had hidden cowering at the back of his cave and blended as best he could into his bed of shale and gravel. He was small and easily overlooked.
He wanted to join his parents but at the same time knew that there was great peril; they would want him to do what a troll does when it needs to hide, 'remember Block, first sign of trouble turn to rubble,' his mother had always told him, 'we trolls rely on being hidden away from others, that is how it's always been and that is how it must stay.'
So Block had kept very still looking out towards the entrance of his cave trying to guess what was happening. The noise outside was lessening and in a very short time, it had stopped altogether. There was silence and even the ground was absolutely still.
Normally in the village there was a constant buzz from the bedrock as trolls went about their daily routines. At this part of his dream, however the mountain had become silent which was strange. This meant that all of the other trolls were gone. But how could that be in so short a time? Were they all killed?
Block eventually ventured from his cave and found the place completely deserted. For the first time in his life he felt completely alone and he had cried loud and hard in a stone bursting voice that echoed across the hills.
There had been no reply.
Then suddenly from the low cloud past streaming overhead, a great red and black dragon swooped low over him. It jerked its head towards him, screeched and turned and hovered eyeing him with yellow venomous eyes. Jaws full of razor sharp teeth opened and closed silently. On its back there was a figure.
Block had never heard of anything actually riding on a dragon before. Dragons were wild and free and not readily tamed but this dragon was clearly being controlled by something riding on its back concealed under a silver-grey cloak. The figure spoke in a dark and menacing tone 'what is this then? A man-sized troll! Well rubble child I know just the place for you. You have no magic in you as such so Dumbledore's protections will not affect you. Go now and see what havoc you can cause. You are no use to me in my mines. The rest of your clan will serve me well enough. I am going to send you somewhere else. When you get there look for a boy with a scar on his brow and be sure to smash his bones.'
With that, the dragon let forth a hail of flames that covered Block. Block curled into a ball expecting to be burned to cinders and he wailed in terror. The roar of the fire combined with the laughter of the rider still now haunting him in his dream.
Then there was silence.
The dragon and its mount were gone - or, more precisely, Block had gone. He had uncurled and found himself alive and on the cool grassy floor of a wood. He had no idea how he had moved from his mountain home to this place but it was obvious that he was no longer in the mountains. The ground felt very different. It had all happened in an instant and Block's senses had been spinning when he had arrived in the woods in a state of utter disorientation. It was too much for him and all he could do was curl into a ball before he fainted.
Block awoke from his dream suddenly alert and scared. He was back in the woods and it was very dark but the words of the rider who had taken his family were still ringing in his ears, 'a boy with a scar on his brow...smash his bones.'
Trolls were sometimes excitable creatures and when dropped into strange places and threatened they were prone to strong reactions. Some trolls had worse tempers than others.
Block's Uncle Cragheart was particularly prone to fits of rage and was regarded by Block and most of the troll community as a bad sort. For trolls this was of course saying something but Cragheart was definitely the sort of mountain troll that gave their kind a bad name.
Cragheart did occasionally disappear from the clan and a few months previously he'd returned with a very strange tale to tell. Cragheart told the clan of how he had woken in a great old house of smalls and he had no idea how he had got there. He had been chased - or was he chasing? - he couldn't really say. He was excited though and his club had hit out at anything that moved including three young smalls who had been particularly irritating. He was being chased and trapped and he remembered having a sharp stick stuck up his nose before there had been a blinding pain on the top of his head and everything had suddenly gone dark. He had then awoken with a sore head back on the mountainside near the clan. If it hadn't been for the fact that he had lost his club and found a large bump on his head he would have thought it a dream.
Block was young however and his mother, Hardfist, had always said the he had a kind heart. In fact most mountain trolls would resort to violence only as a last resort and would have under similar circumstances tried their best to hide and escape rather than going on the rampage. This was very much the case with Block. It was true to say that he was not as excitable as most and certainly very different from his Uncle Cragheart.
Cragheart was Block's Uncle and was one of the more war-like members of the clan. The clan elders often felt that Cragheart was much too hasty but Block's brother Boulder admired him greatly. Cragheart had always argued that trolls should have a higher standing in the world than they currently had. This was worrying talk to most trolls who liked living quietly and peacefully up in the hills.
Boulder had used to chide Block over his softness calling him names like Sapwood of Moss-head but this really didn't worry Block. He had been happy playing in his mountain home. He was fond of the mountain wildlife, especially the green dragons from the sunny side of the hills.
Being small but very strong he was a great climber and he loved roving over the spurs and crags of the mountain. He had once rescued an injured young dragon and nursed it back to health. Since that time he had been accepted among the wild dragons of his mountains.
The green dragons were very different from the red and black serpent beasts that had attacked his home a few weeks before. Block would climb to the sheer cliffs to the south of the mountain and watch the young dragons in wonder as they swooped and dived at one another.
In his time with the green dragons, Block had learned to communicate with them after a fashion and a bond had been forged between him and the young dragon Sarphin. He missed Sarphin now. Sarphin would have been able to fly high and spy out the lay of the land for him. Between them they would have soon found their way back to Block's home in the mountains.
Block knew he would soon have to set out to find his home but he simply had no idea which way to turn. He was as likely to end up farther away rather than nearer to home. His sense of direction could not help when he had no recollection of travelling from his home. Block had no understanding of magic and so couldn't know that the dark wizard on the dragon had used very strong and old magic to send Block over a hundred miles in an instant. There was not even the smallest thread linking him to his home.
There were however more immediate concerns. It would be getting light in a few hours and Block would be forced to hide during the day so he must go foraging quickly or otherwise go hungry. He headed for the houses. Block's keen sense of smell told him that the house where the cage had been was most promising and he decided to start there.
The trickiest parts of his travels through the gardens were the fences and hedges. Many were nearly as high as he was but they were nowhere near strong enough to take his weight therefore he had to jump. Even for a relatively small and agile mountain troll this was not an easy feat but over the past couple of weeks Block had become quite adept at this. Of course, while he had been learning there had been accidents but he noted that the smalls seemed happy to come out and repair the fences on a regular basis.
He was now getting quite proficient at fence hopping and this was to some extent helped by the fact that he had lost a considerable amount of weight since his arrival in the woods. And so it was that Block readied himself on the wood side of the hedge of No.4 Privet Drive and after a short run up performed a hand spring off the top of the bank. After a twisting somersault he landed squarely and surprisingly lightly in the middle of the Dursley's back garden.
Block froze immediately. He knew straight away the he had made a serious mistake in his childish haste for food. He sensed the presence of the human boy who had visited his clearing during the day - the aura was unmistakable.
'Hello there,' said the boy who had visited him at the cage earlier in the day. 'Don't be afraid. I can help you. You must be lost.'
Block continued to stand very very still. Normally a small would ignore a frozen troll totally disregarding it as a lump of stone, as long as the troll had had a moment to role up into a ball but in this case it was obviously too late.
He had just done a somersault with half twist and a rather good landing and for his stupidity he had also been spectacularly caught.
He had been so stupid. Why hadn't he crept into the garden quietly? His options were now few as far as he could reckon.
He could run for it and this was his first instinct but he felt that this was slightly ludicrous because the boy did not appear to be at all threatening and was much smaller than him - anyway the damage was already done.
He could fight. He had fashioned himself a reliable club during his time in the wood but this wasn't in his nature at all.
Or he could wait for a bit and see what happened. He felt ridiculous.
It was certainly strange, thought Block, that this boy was so calm. On the rare occasions when smalls did come across mountain trolls there was normally one loud scream followed by a flump as the person fainted. As long as the troll left quickly the small would normally wake up dazed confused and willing to believe that their imagination had done something very mean to them. The alternative; that they actually had come face to face with a five metre tall mountain troll (which everyone knows simply do not exist) was not an options and that was the end of that. This boy however was simply leaning against a wall in a dark corner away from the moonlight.
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments.
'Hellooo!' said the boy. This time slightly louder as if he was calling further than the distance to Block.
The boy continued, 'I knew you were a Troll when I came to the woods today. I would recognize the smell of troll bogies anywhere and the last time I met one of your sort my wand, this wand,' said the boy holding up what appeared to Block to be a short pointy stick, 'got covered in troll bogies. It smelled for weeks. That troll was a lot bigger than you though. I knew you wouldn't wake up for me there and then but I guessed that you would turn up here sooner or later especially if I left plenty of food out.'
Block looked down and saw a cardboard box of cakes, fruit and vegetables. His stomach was rumbling like it was full of rolling rocks out of hunger.
But now Block was doubly worried. This must be the boy who had beaten Uncle Cragheart. The boy had also set a trap for him. Block looked about him but there was little to stop him from leaving if he wished.
The boy stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight and Block gaped as he noticed the scar on his forehead. Now Block was really panicking and didn't know what to do. This was the boy that the dragon rider had talked about.
'....smash his bones.....'
This was too much for Block. His brain wasn't working and to try to bring it back to life he gave himself three good hard whacks on his own head with his club.
By the time he came back to his senses (which were scarcely any the better for the battering that he had just subjected them to) he looked down at the boy who was picking up the box of food.
'Here, this is for you. Don't be scared. I can see you're just a kid, sort of just like me. My name is Harry... Harry Potter ..how do you do.'
Block considered the situation for a moment - if he ran he would be leaving a rather tasty box of food. Yet, how could this boy be so friendly? Block in the end let his stomach decide for him.
He said in a drawling voice, 'hello Harry Potter, Block is hungry.'
The boy laughed and said, 'well, Block, you'd better tuck into this lot then. It's my cousin's really but I'm sure that he won't mind.'
Harry passed the box to Block who sat down and ate the food....box and all.
'Thank you Harry Potter,' said Block politely. His mother had always extolled the virtues of those with good manners especially when eating at someone else's home. Block doubted that she had in her wildest dreams envisaged a situation like this. The very idea made Block want to laugh and he grinned sheepishly as he ate. The boy also smiled and as they observed each other both realized that perhaps they had found a friend.
'No problem Block you're very welcome,' said Harry holding out his hand.
Slowly Block took Harry's hand and shook it.
'Whoa! Not so hard!' said Harry.
Block immediately let go and looked fearful.
Harry laughed again and said, 'don't worry,' but he was shaking his arm vigorously.
'I'll be fine Block. Now then, I've got loads of questions to ask you but now is probably not the time and....' Harry looked up at Uncle Vernon's window, 'this is certainly not the place. I do not want to wake my Uncle and besides, the milkman will be here soon so you had better get out of here.'
Sure enough the first hint of blue was beginning to appear in the sky to the east and birds were beginning to stir in the trees. It would soon be morning.
'Head on back to the clearing and I'll come and see you later.'
'OK Harry Potter,' said Block and with that Block turned and left; this time with a less spectacular hop over the garden hedge.
A few moments later Block was back at his clearing.
For a while he sat and tried to make sense of the extraordinary events that had just taken place.
Block had sensed that the boy certainly had the same something as the dragon rider. But there was also a difference in the shade of that strange feeling. The dragon rider had been cold and dark but Block could sense that the boy was kind.
Block liked the idea of meeting the boy again soon. Perhaps the boy would be able to help him find his way home. With that thought, which was the first optimistic thought that Block had had since arriving in the woods, and also with a satisfyingly full stomach he settled down to sleep.
Pretty soon he was what most passers by would consider to be just an ordinary pile of rocks. However, he did still have a runny nose and while he slept there was a small trickle of bogies running from his head, over his arm to the ground.