Chapter 4
He was in a room with five beds that were all alike. Swathed in luxurious forest green drapes edged in silver, elegant wooden posts stretched languorously up towards the grey stone ceiling. He was sitting on his bed, holding his left arm tightly at the elbow, and biting his lower lip to keep tears from falling. He hadn't known it would hurt this much...
Christopher blinked groggily and as the fog from his brain cleared realized that the pain from the dream was still there although it was more of a general ache rather than the sharp stabbing pain from the dream. Gingerly, he sat up, relieving the pressure on his broken arm. He must have accidentally rolled over onto it during the night. The dream kept running through his mind and he was surprised at how vivid the image of the dungeon room - dungeon? - was. How he knew it was a dungeon he couldn't imagine, but he remembered the coolness in winter and the thick, warm blankets that always covered his bed, the one in the corner furthest from the large fireplace.
What was that place? He had lived there for a few years if the ease and familiarity of the room in the dream was any indication. He scowled in the dark of the guest room, replaying the dream over and over in his mind until sleep once more claimed his eyes.
* * *
Harry restrained himself from whooping for sheer joy as the wind several dozen feet above the ground blew his hair wildly. Covered by his father's Invisibility Cloak, his school trunk shrunken to a manageable size in his cloak pocket, Harry stuck his hand briefly out from under the cloak to wave at Hedwig floating placidly behind his Firebolt. When the reply from Dumbledore had come a few days after he had sent his plea, Harry had expected a simple thank you for offering his time and a warm wish that he might enjoy the summer. Polite, but firm in the fact that he had to stay with the Dursleys. But to his surprise, the letter had not only thanked Harry for his offer but also encouraged him to come! In it, Dumbledore thanked Harry for being willing to help and informed him that he had taken the initiative of talking to the Ministry of Magic, which grudgingly gave permission for him to use magic to shrink his trunk so it was easier to transport.
Vernon and Petunia had taken some convincing but after weighing the possibility of having Harry gone and not having to pay old Mrs. Figg to watch him while they went on a weekend to see Aunt Marge, they reluctantly conceded. Dumbledore had told him that all he needed to do was go to Platform 9 ¾ at Kings Cross Station as if on the way to catch the Hogwarts Express. Since no train would be there, he could simply follow the train tracks from the air on his broom. If all else failed, he could also simply tell Hedwig to lead him to Hogwarts. However, part of the trip he had to leave her far behind because the trip would take awhile, about 12 hours if he pushed his broom as fast as was comfortable for a long ride. Harry wanted to be there before nightfall if at all possible but Hedwig simply couldn't fly as fast as his Firebolt.
He had been ready to send a brief note to Ron and Hermione but an excited Pigwidgeon had arrived before he had a chance with a note from them both. Ron had invited Hermione to go to Romania with the Weasely family to visit Ron's older brother Charlie. "But don't think anything about that," Ron had scribbled. "I only asked her 'cause she came moping to Ginny about having nothing to do over the summer and how she couldn't buy next years text books cause we hadn't got the list yet. Blimey, she's a nutter sometimes." Harry wondered briefly why Ginny hadn't invited Hermione herself but shrugged it off.
Tucking a flapping corner of his cloak into his waistband, Harry let a wide grin stretch his mouth as he followed the train track towards Hogwarts. His real home.
* * *
Nearly fourteen hours later, a stiff and exhausted Harry landed his Firebolt outside the large doors that led to the main entrance hall of Hogwarts. It was about midnight since Harry had not anticipated problems such as hunger or bugs splatting against his glasses during the trip. He had stopped a few hours into his trip to eat some sandwiches he had packed and then had to stop soon after to clean the bug guts from his glasses. Then, as it had gotten late, he had almost fallen asleep on his broom, the branches of some trees scratching at his feet the only thing that woke him up. Worried that he might do it again with worse consequences he had stopped near a little creek splashing his face with water and running around to loosen up his stiff legs, hoping to make himself more alert. He'd had to repeat the process twice more before he finally saw the huge Hogwarts castle looming on the horizon, giving him new energy to push his Firebolt the last few miles.
Wearily he pointed his wand at the huge doors. "Alohomora," he said, but he was so tired that instead of bursting right open, the old doors simply groaned and slowly opened as if being pulled by a diminutive house elf. He stepped inside, willing his legs not to collapse. It seemed a very long time as he walked through the deserted hallways until reaching the stone gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office. He was wearily considering what strange password the Headmaster might have chosen when the gargoyle leapt aside and Albus Dumbledore emerged.
"Harry!" he exclaimed, his eyes twinkling merrily. "You're a bit later than I expected but no matter. How was the trip?"
Harry opened his mouth to answer but only a head-splitting yawn escaped his lips.
Dumbledore chuckled. "I see you've experienced the joys of hours long broom travel." He laid a steadying hand on Harry's shoulder and walked with him down the corridor. After only a few turns, the Headmaster stopped at an ordinary looking door and opened it. "You'll be staying here for the duration of the summer. Gryffindor Tower is far too lonely for just you. I'll see you in the morning Harry. Good night!" The large grandfather clock standing against the wall suddenly chimed the hour and the aged wizard chuckled. "Perhaps I should say, good morning!" Harry mumbled something incoherent in reply and Dumbledore left. Harry didn't bother to look at his room as he laid his broom under the bed and set his miniature school trunk on the bedside cabinet, too weary to make it larger at that moment.
His legs aching, Harry climbed into bed without bothering to put on pyjamas. His cloak would do...
He was in a room with five beds that were all alike. Swathed in luxurious forest green drapes edged in silver, elegant wooden posts stretched languorously up towards the grey stone ceiling. He was sitting on his bed, holding his left arm tightly at the elbow, and biting his lower lip to keep tears from falling. He hadn't known it would hurt this much...
Christopher blinked groggily and as the fog from his brain cleared realized that the pain from the dream was still there although it was more of a general ache rather than the sharp stabbing pain from the dream. Gingerly, he sat up, relieving the pressure on his broken arm. He must have accidentally rolled over onto it during the night. The dream kept running through his mind and he was surprised at how vivid the image of the dungeon room - dungeon? - was. How he knew it was a dungeon he couldn't imagine, but he remembered the coolness in winter and the thick, warm blankets that always covered his bed, the one in the corner furthest from the large fireplace.
What was that place? He had lived there for a few years if the ease and familiarity of the room in the dream was any indication. He scowled in the dark of the guest room, replaying the dream over and over in his mind until sleep once more claimed his eyes.
Harry restrained himself from whooping for sheer joy as the wind several dozen feet above the ground blew his hair wildly. Covered by his father's Invisibility Cloak, his school trunk shrunken to a manageable size in his cloak pocket, Harry stuck his hand briefly out from under the cloak to wave at Hedwig floating placidly behind his Firebolt. When the reply from Dumbledore had come a few days after he had sent his plea, Harry had expected a simple thank you for offering his time and a warm wish that he might enjoy the summer. Polite, but firm in the fact that he had to stay with the Dursleys. But to his surprise, the letter had not only thanked Harry for his offer but also encouraged him to come! In it, Dumbledore thanked Harry for being willing to help and informed him that he had taken the initiative of talking to the Ministry of Magic, which grudgingly gave permission for him to use magic to shrink his trunk so it was easier to transport.
Vernon and Petunia had taken some convincing but after weighing the possibility of having Harry gone and not having to pay old Mrs. Figg to watch him while they went on a weekend to see Aunt Marge, they reluctantly conceded. Dumbledore had told him that all he needed to do was go to Platform 9 ¾ at Kings Cross Station as if on the way to catch the Hogwarts Express. Since no train would be there, he could simply follow the train tracks from the air on his broom. If all else failed, he could also simply tell Hedwig to lead him to Hogwarts. However, part of the trip he had to leave her far behind because the trip would take awhile, about 12 hours if he pushed his broom as fast as was comfortable for a long ride. Harry wanted to be there before nightfall if at all possible but Hedwig simply couldn't fly as fast as his Firebolt.
He had been ready to send a brief note to Ron and Hermione but an excited Pigwidgeon had arrived before he had a chance with a note from them both. Ron had invited Hermione to go to Romania with the Weasely family to visit Ron's older brother Charlie. "But don't think anything about that," Ron had scribbled. "I only asked her 'cause she came moping to Ginny about having nothing to do over the summer and how she couldn't buy next years text books cause we hadn't got the list yet. Blimey, she's a nutter sometimes." Harry wondered briefly why Ginny hadn't invited Hermione herself but shrugged it off.
Tucking a flapping corner of his cloak into his waistband, Harry let a wide grin stretch his mouth as he followed the train track towards Hogwarts. His real home.
Nearly fourteen hours later, a stiff and exhausted Harry landed his Firebolt outside the large doors that led to the main entrance hall of Hogwarts. It was about midnight since Harry had not anticipated problems such as hunger or bugs splatting against his glasses during the trip. He had stopped a few hours into his trip to eat some sandwiches he had packed and then had to stop soon after to clean the bug guts from his glasses. Then, as it had gotten late, he had almost fallen asleep on his broom, the branches of some trees scratching at his feet the only thing that woke him up. Worried that he might do it again with worse consequences he had stopped near a little creek splashing his face with water and running around to loosen up his stiff legs, hoping to make himself more alert. He'd had to repeat the process twice more before he finally saw the huge Hogwarts castle looming on the horizon, giving him new energy to push his Firebolt the last few miles.
Wearily he pointed his wand at the huge doors. "Alohomora," he said, but he was so tired that instead of bursting right open, the old doors simply groaned and slowly opened as if being pulled by a diminutive house elf. He stepped inside, willing his legs not to collapse. It seemed a very long time as he walked through the deserted hallways until reaching the stone gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office. He was wearily considering what strange password the Headmaster might have chosen when the gargoyle leapt aside and Albus Dumbledore emerged.
"Harry!" he exclaimed, his eyes twinkling merrily. "You're a bit later than I expected but no matter. How was the trip?"
Harry opened his mouth to answer but only a head-splitting yawn escaped his lips.
Dumbledore chuckled. "I see you've experienced the joys of hours long broom travel." He laid a steadying hand on Harry's shoulder and walked with him down the corridor. After only a few turns, the Headmaster stopped at an ordinary looking door and opened it. "You'll be staying here for the duration of the summer. Gryffindor Tower is far too lonely for just you. I'll see you in the morning Harry. Good night!" The large grandfather clock standing against the wall suddenly chimed the hour and the aged wizard chuckled. "Perhaps I should say, good morning!" Harry mumbled something incoherent in reply and Dumbledore left. Harry didn't bother to look at his room as he laid his broom under the bed and set his miniature school trunk on the bedside cabinet, too weary to make it larger at that moment.
His legs aching, Harry climbed into bed without bothering to put on pyjamas. His cloak would do...