Ch 9- Back to Skool.

Harry's trunk lay in the middle of the hall. Two broomsticks leaned against the wall with an extra box of books beside them. Everything he needed was there - he was ready to go.

An empty owl cage sat on the trunk; like Hermes, Hedwig didn't like road transport, especially the Knight Bus. Harry didn't blame her one bit. He prowled restlessly around the house, wand at the ready, checking the security, checking Dobby had all he needed, sitting down, getting up, prowling round again. Part of him wanted to sit back and savour the exquisite pleasures of the day but the high was still with him. If the bus broke down, Harry reckoned he could push it all the way to Hogwarts, given a following wind.

By the time it was fully dark, Harry was a quivering wreck. The knock on the door made him jump a foot. As he cautiously approached the door, the knock sounded again.

'Penetratus occulens' muttered Harry. One of the two spells Dora had taught him just before she went, this rendered a small section of door transparent - from his side only. In the flickering light of the torch by the door, Harry could see Alastor Moody and Remus Lupin waiting to get in. Harry was surprised to see Lupin, he hadn't expected to see Remus again at all.

After a slight problem with one of the locking charms, Harry opened the door, slowly.

'That took long enough, Tonks.' grumbled Moody. Then, realising she wasn't there, he exclaimed 'Where'd she go?'

'She – er – she had to leave earlier, before sunset' muttered Harry.

Moody and Lupin began to bristle with indignation.

'Bloody woman, doesn't she have any sense of responsibility?' snarled Moody.

'We need to have a serious talk to her, Alastor.' agreed Lupin.

'Leave her alone, please.' said Harry quietly. 'She had her reasons!'

Moody and Lupin looked at him thoughtfully.

'You can't be left alone Harry.' grated Moody. 'You know that!'

'I wasn't alone!' countered Harry. 'Dobby was still here, ready to help.'

'A house elf!' scoffed Moody.

'A house elf! I've seen what he can do Professor. He threw Lucius Malfoy halfway down the main corridor and down the main stairs at Hogwarts, just to protect me!'

Lupin was nodding sagely. 'He's right, Alastor, You know yourself that House elves have their own type of magic - and it's more powerful than most people think.'

Moody grunted. 'Well, she'd better not do it again.'

Harry began to calm down inside. It had worked.

Lupin looked at the box of books that Harry had taken from the library. 'How did you get on with cataloguing the books?' he asked casually.

'We got some done.' muttered Harry evasively.

'Just some? I thought you were going to spend all day on them?'

Harry started to go red. 'We – er – got sidetracked a bit.'

'A bit?'

Harry got redder. 'Well – a lot then.'

Moody looked sourly at Lupin.

Lupin smiled back at him. 'That's ten you owe me, Alastor.'

'No restraint, some people,' grumbled Moody, handing Lupin the money, 'Come on MISTER Potter, lets get this stuff outside ready for the bus.'

Cheeks flaming, Harry took out his wand. 'Locomotor trunk', he mumbled, as Dora had showed him. The trunk rose about a foot and followed Harry to the front door. Moody's remaining half an eyebrow rose in surprise.

'Who taught you that?'

'Tonks'

'What else did she teach you? – No, don't answer that, I really don't want to know!'

- o -

The Knight Bus appeared promptly once Moody stuck out his wand. All the local street lights were dark, so the lights from the bus windows were the only illumination as Stan shunpike helped lift Harry's luggage on board and stow it under the stairs.

'Where to this time, Harry?' he asked.

'Hogwarts, Stan, Hogwarts.'

'Bit early for school ain't it?'

Harry indicated Moody with his thumb. 'When venerable master instruct pupil to pick up bed and walk - '

Moody shook his head as if in despair and started up the stairs. 'Get on with it Harry- And don't forget to order yourself a hot drink for later - it's a long way.'

Harry turned to Lupin, who was standing beside the bus platform.

'Thanks Remus, be careful.'

'And you, Harry. Tell that old curmudgeon upstairs the same will you?'

A sudden thought occurred to Harry. 'If you're going past the Leaky Cauldron, could you look in to see if Dora's there? Buy her a drink or something? Try her place, if she's not in the Cauldron.'

Lupin looked puzzled for a second, then smiled. 'No problem Harry, I've even got some money!'

'Better not tell her where you got it from!'

The bus started to move as Lupin laughed and turned back towards the place where Number 12 was hidden. Harry knew he could leave things in Remus's capable hands.

Upstairs, Moody had ensconced himself in an armchair and was watching Harry dubiously as he made his way to an adjacent chair.

'Strap yourself in Harry, they've got a lot of stops to make tonig-'

The bus lurched with a sharp crack and moved from the centre of London to the centre of the M4 motorway near Reading.

Moody snorted. 'We're going West! not North! This is going to be a real epic, so stop messing about and strap in!'

Harry picked himself up off the floor and froze, staring out of the front windows in horrified fascination at the sight of the traffic in the eastbound carriageway charging straight at them then sliding past on either side. He struggled to a rearwards facing chair and clicked the strap shut, just in time for the bus to lurch again before appearing in a side street in Swindon.

- o -

As the bus zigzagged towards Wales, Harry noticed Moody becoming more and more tense and gripping his wand less and less casually. Harry remembered the Dementors were probably hidden somewhere in Wales, then mentally kicked himself for not realising earlier. He slowly eased his wand out, hoping Moody wouldn't notice.

'Got your favourite image ready?' muttered Moody.

Harry nodded, thinking of Dora, and slowly scrutinising the other passengers on their deck of the bus. Admittedly the single hag, hidden behind a veil, who had been on the bus since they boarded, the two witches in the other aisle, and the single ghoul up front, hardly looked Dementor material. Still it didn't pay to be slack.

'Constant Vigilance!' muttered Moody suddenly, making Harry jump. He saw the hint of a smile on Moody's face. Great, thought Harry, now he gets a sense of humour!

The worst moment came as the bus stopped in Aberystwyth. Moody appeared to be asleep. Outside the bus Harry could see two hooded figures waiting to board, though the feeling of cold which Harry associated with Dementors was missing. The figures boarded the bus and it began to move. A hood appeared in the stairwell and the first figure stepped onto the middle deck, followed closely by the second. The faces of the figures were completely obscured. After scanning the occupants, the two figures approached Moody and Harry. Harry was growing more and more tense as the first figure reached a bright green hand out and tapped Moody on the shoulder. Harry held his breath.

Moody grunted.

'Hello Hestia, Nice gloves! Hello Dedalus. I thought you two were looking for Dementors further south!'

Eventually they crossed River Dee estuary and headed for Manchester, leaving Wales behind. Moody put his wand away and went to sleep. As the bus made it's erratic and slightly nauseating way northwards, Harry settled down to recall the exquisite events of the afternoon and to consider the future. He'd had his fun, now it was serious.

- o -

The first light of dawn was staining the velvet blackness of night as Harry and Moody stepped off the bus at the gates of Hogwarts. Books, brooms and cage balanced on his floating trunk, Harry trudged up the drive towards the castle. Torches flickered at intervals along the drive and two more glowed either side of the main doors. The castle loomed above them, a brooding presence, silhouetted against the growing light of dawn. Harry struggled anew with the concept of the castle being alive but as he stood before the main doors, waiting for Moody to open them, he seemed to sense an indefinable presence, a sense of waiting, like a whisper at the edge of hearing. The doors creaked open and the presence faded away.

Inside the main hall, two house elves stood waiting to take Harry's luggage. Harry took his brooms off the trunk seconds before it was disapparated to his dormitory with a crack. Moody stood looking round, travel bag in hand.

'Right Harry, it's bit early for breakfast proper, so the house elves will bring you something in your common room. Professor Dumbledore and I want to see you at twelve sharp in his study. Get some rest, if you can.'

Harry nodded. 'You don't happen to know the password for my common room do you?'

'Same as the end of last term!' muttered Moody as he stumped off.

Harry trudged off along the corridor towards the tower, muttering to himself. 'Same as last term's, hmm? Great!' - if he could just remember that far back!

Fed and watered, Harry took himself and his brooms up to the tower. His dorm had been warmed, so he didn't actually freeze as he took off his outer clothes and climbed into bed. The sun was just peering blearily over the western mountains as he set his alarm, shut the drapes, lay back - and went out like light.

- o -

A shaft of sunlight lancing through the crack in Harry's four-poster drapes woke him before the alarm. He looked at his clock - ten thirty. Deciding he couldn't sleep any longer, he climbed out of bed and put on clean clothes before wandering down to the Common Room.

Standing before the ever burning fire, Harry tried to sense the brooding presence of the early morning. Nothing happened until he leaned back against the stone wall beside the fireplace. There it was, not a presence but an urgency.

Go upward, it urged, Go upward.

Harry climbed to the very top of Gryfindor tower, even climbing the winding stair leading onto the roof.

Go upward; the urgency remained.

Harry looked round to find where the urgency was taking him; his gaze locked onto the highest tower of the castle, the astronomy tower.

- o -

More than a quarter of an hour later, Harry staggered out onto the flat roof of the Astronomy tower. Telescope mounts were dotted around the battlement parapet and a large plinth in the centre appeared to be the mounting for a much larger device. Harry leaned back against the central plinth and gazed out over the surrounding hills.

Ahead, southwards, was the valley and lake - with hills, almost mountains, rising up to meet the blue sky. To the left Harry could see the road leading to the station and, over the bridge beyond, to Hogsmead. To the right, the valley continued, rising towards more distant hills, brown and purple in the sunlight. Behind him, Harry could almost feel the bulk of the largest mountain in the area, Ben Elton. The sun sparkled off the lake, flickering in Harry's eyes, and making his head spin. He tried to turn away, but found he was fixed to the plinth immovably. He struggled feebly but the flickering mesmerised him into immobility.

Slowly Harry began to realise that he no longer felt the stone beneath his feet, or the plinth behind him. He seemed to be stretching outwards, his feet passing through stone and air to stand squarely on the bedrock beneath the castle. He could see - no - sense the halls and dungeons and caves beneath the castle, even the Chamber of Secrets. No longer a place of horror, it was now simply a dank hole in the ground.

Harry's hands seemed to touch the farthest buildings - the broom sheds to one side and the greenhouses to the other. All the halls and towers between were just sensed around his limbs, as insubstantial as mist.

The sense of a presence, of waiting, was now nearly unbearable. Harry's thoughts were becoming submerged in the massive slow consciousness of the castle. All he could think was, Why? What are you waiting for? Why are you showing me?

After what seemed an interminable time Harry became aware of tiny motes of energy floating within the reach of his senses. Only a few showed, spread around the castle like the glimpses of stars through mist. Suddenly the number of motes began to grow, flooding into the castle through the main doors, spreading out to towers and dungeons, then back to halls and classrooms. A tide of motes, sparkling and flashing; living and laughing, angry and sad.

The sense of waiting, of impatience, was gone.

Almost at once, Harry was again standing on the top of the Astronomy Tower, shaken to the core, struggling to comprehend the enormity of the experience. A whole castle, alive. He couldn't doubt it now. Hermione would be green with envy that he had been able to touch the mind of the school.

And now he knew what the school was waiting for. Like a parent waits impatiently for its offspring, the school was waiting impatiently for the return of its beloved students.

Harry looked at his watch. A quarter to twelve! Professor Moody and the Headmaster would be furious if he was late. As he hurried downstairs, Harry was aware of a strange feeling inside him. He seemed to feel spaces leading through his arms and legs, hollow spaces within him; a most peculiar feeling. Still, at least he knew what it was. Like Professor Dumbledore before him, Harry was suffering from corridors.

- o -

Harry arrived outside the entrance to the Headmaster's study at exactly twelve o'clock. Brilliant, he thought - now, what's the password?

'Cockroach Cluster! Chocolate frog! Bertie Bott! Honeydukes chocolate! ' Harry went through every sweet and sweet maker he could think of but nothing happened! A sinking feeling in his insides grew as he realised he'd forgotten the last little detail. What away to start a new career!

'PLEASE open up will you?' Harry begged the statue, which immediately began to open. He rushed up the stairs and knocked on the Headmaster's study door, which also swung open.

Professor Dumbledore was seated at his desk with Alastor Moody sitting beside the fire.

'Come in Harry, come in,' beckoned the Headmaster. I see you had trouble with the staircase! A reminder to always use the magic word, Hmmm? Please take seat.'

Harry sat on the obvious chair in front of the Headmaster's desk, inwardly seething. Moody turned his chair to face them both and smiled.

'First Lesson Harry,' he growled. 'Keep calm in the most aggravating circumstances!'

Harry gritted his teeth and smiled back. That was not going to be easy!

'Harry.' began Dumbledore, 'Welcome to the teaching staff at Hogwarts school.' He smiled encouragingly at Harry and continued.

'I realise that this is an unusual arrangement, but given the need to increase teaching of the Defence against the Dark Arts, and a dearth of suitably qualified applicants, Professor Moody and I feel that this is the best option available.'

'Professor,' interrupted Harry, 'I thought Professor Snape had always wanted to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts!'

The two professors glanced at one another.

'Professor Snape is fully engaged in teaching potions, Harry.' said the Headmaster. 'I feel he is more use to the school in that capacity. Now then, it has been agreed that you can teach the second years and provide remedial teaching for the third years'

'Will Professor Snape agree to me teaching Slytherins?' asked Harry immediately.

'As Headmaster, Harry, I decide who you are to teach'

' I have to ask, Professor,' persisted Harry, 'What happens if the Slytherins attempt to really cause trouble?'

'Why do you think they might?' interjected Moody, staring at Harry.

'Because Draco Malfoy is virtually in command of Slytherin house, Professor.'

'Not Professor Snape?' asked Moody.

Harry remained silent. Professor Moody winked at him, at least Harry thought it was a wink, Professor Moody's features were hard to read sometimes.

The Headmaster sat back, steepling his fingers in front of him, and looking at Harry with a particularly penetrating stare. Finally he sat up again and leaned forward. 'Harry, I would not expect you to teach without commensurate powers to control a class. I intend that, as a teacher, you should be able to deduct house points from, and set detentions for, all pupils below 6th year, however, if any pupil over that age, including prefects, should merit punishment, you must get my personal permission.'

Harry nodded enthusiastically.

The Headmaster smiled, then continued. 'Sadly I cannot ignore your position as a student, Harry. Others must be able to control your more, shall we say, ebullient behaviour. That said, I intend that none of the prefects or teachers can deduct house points from you, or set you detentions, without express permission from myself only.'

Harry nodded again, in a slightly more subdued fashion.

'Finally,' chuckled the Headmaster, 'I will expect the pupils below 6th year to address you as Mr. Potter!'

Harry smiled to himself at the thought of Ginny Weasley complying with THAT instruction!

'Thank you Professor,' said Harry, 'but I think I would prefer that only first to third years should do that, the third years only when I'm teaching.

Professor Dumbledore inclined his head whilst Moody just smiled. Harry wondered if Professor Moody had had a vision of Ginny Weasley's face as well. 'Very well Harry,' he growled, 'to the details.'

The Headmaster looked on as Moody began. 'We've got classroom fourteen booked for your activities. Professor McGonagall is dealing with the timetables. She's been spitting nails trying to ensure none of your lessons clash with your teaching periods, but she's achieved it. You'll need to talk to Argus Filch about equipment.

Harry bridles at that name. 'Argus Filch would have flogged me last term, if he'd had the chance, Professor. Anyway, I've been thinking about what I need, and some of it needs transfiguration.'

'Very well Harry,' agreed Moody, 'Decide on the basic requirements and Professor McGonagall will help you with the transfigurations you need. Headmaster, perhaps you could outline the basic safety information?'

'Certainly Alastor. Now then Harry, as a teacher there are a number of spells you need to know for emergencies, cuts and bruises, various illnesses and so on, here is a list of those, and a list of persons to contact if things get further out of hand. If you could learn the spell names, Professor Moody will make a start on teaching them to you tomorrow.'

Harry took the lists and studied them. 'Immodius- Quellium- I recognise the rest, but what are those for?'

'Diarrhoea and sickness, Harry. It can be most offputting if one of your pupils is, shall we say, ill. The scourgify spell is also useful in those circumstances.' Harry grimaced, but Dumbledore was unapologetic. 'I agree that sort of problem is more prevalent in children much younger than twelve, however, given the possible effects of incorrectly cast spells on the human body, it is better to be prepared.

'There are the normal pain killing and immobilisation spells' continued the Headmaster, 'but there is one which should only be used in dire emergencies - Petrificus Maximilia Totalis.'

Harry looked suitably impressed. 'Petrificus Totalis I know about, Headmaster, but what is the Maxi - bit for?'

'The Maximilia part of the spell is only for use where mortal or severely disabling injuries have or may happen, Harry.' The Headmaster hesitated. 'It requires considerable power and it effectively turns the recipient to stone, without moving their limbs or leaving them conscious.'

Harry considered the sort of injuries which might require such a spell and felt slightly sick.

'The spell can only be used safely for an hour,' continued the Headmaster. 'that should, however, be sufficient to bring the casualty to the hospital wing.'

'I understand, Headmaster.' said Harry cautiously, 'I'll have difficulty finding someone to practice on though.'

'A subject will be found, Harry.' assured the Headmaster. 'Now, if you would care to return to your Common Room, lunch will be served there. In the summer holidays, we are too few to use the Great Hall for most meals. This afternoon, Professor Moody will discuss the details of the spells he wishes you to teach, so you can begin planning your lessons.'

Harry left for the Gryffindor Common Room, already considering the implications of a spell that could turn someone to stone.

Approaching the porthole, Harry gave the password, "Same as the end of last term". He was still annoyed about that as well but he put it from his mind as he found another surprise awaited him in the Common Room.

Already eating lunch were two girls, one of whom Harry recognised as Alison Linney, a slim blonde haired third year. The other girl could only be a first year, again blonde; with almost the same pretty features as Alison, she almost had to be Alison's sister.

'Hi Harry' said Alison, smiling shyly, 'This is my sister Stephanie; Stephanie, this is Harry Potter.'

The little girl's face lit up with a big smile, almost immediately followed by a deep blush.

'Hello,' she said very shyly, 'I've heard all about you from Alison.'

Harry smiled. 'Nothing bad, I hope.'

Stephanie blushed again, even more deeply, but stayed silent.

Harry searched for a subject to continue the conversation. 'So, er, how come you're back so early, Alison?' he ventured.

'Mum and Dad had to go to America, Harry. Mum's an American witch, and her mother is very ill. Dad went along to support her.'

'Don't you have any relatives in this country?'

Alison looked rather sad. 'No, Dad's parents are dead, and his brother is in Australia.'

'So they sent you to school on your own?'

'They dropped us off on Saturday, Harry. The Headmaster asked the sorting hat to sort Stephanie into Gryffindor, unless it had any objections, which it didn't.'

'So who's been looking after you?'

'Professor McGonagall keeps an eye on us, Harry. The rest of the time we have to stay in, or close to the castle. Most of the time we spend here or in the library.'

Alison stopped and looked down, Harry prompted her to continue.

'Actually Harry,' she said rather shyly, 'We can't really go outside at all without a teacher. I know you're not a teacher.' - Harry smiled to himself - 'but can you accompany us a bit, please? The Headmaster might relent if you're with us.' She smiled sweetly at Harry.

Harry had a premonition that this girl was going to be trouble later on, but at present he couldn't think of any good reason to say no outright.

'Well, I'm going to be pretty busy.' He muttered. 'I'm only here myself because the Headmaster wants me to learn some additional spells before the beginning of term.'

'Not all the time, surely?'

'Not all the time.' Harry concurred reluctantly.

Alison and Stephanie smiled at each other. 'Thank you Harry.' they chorused.

Meal finished, Harry stood and looked down at the two girls, 'Either way, I can't accompany you this afternoon, I've got to see Professor Moody. I'll see you this evening. I hope you both play chess.'

The two girls looked at him, then at each other, then giggled.

Harry shook his head in mock exasperation and headed for the porthole. Alison was the first girl close to his age he had met since saying goodbye to Dora, and Harry was interested in his own reaction to her. She was a pretty girl, and knowing what she would one day be capable of added an extra dimension to his assessment.

Harry finally concluded that one day she would be a wonderful girlfriend to some lucky boy, but by then, he himself would probably be dead.

- o -

Professor Moody looked rather sour when Harry knocked and entered his study.

'Harry,' he growled, 'I've got a list of spells here for the second years and a suggested list of which spells to test the third years on. It's up to you which order you teach the spells in.'

'Er – Professor,' began Harry timidly, 'are you having doubts about my helping you?'

Moody looked even more sour for a second or so, then seemed to force a smile - or at least make an attempt at one. 'No doubts about you, Harry,' he muttered, 'It's Professor Trelawney I've doubts about.'

'Anything – anything in particular, Professor?'

'Yeah, her increased security; great for her, but we need to draw Voldemort and his crew out into the open.'

Harry was shocked. 'You mean use Professor Trelawney as bait? As a tethered goat?'

Moody tried to look slightly ashamed. 'Well – not exactly – not in – er - so many words!'

'But yes, nonetheless!' muttered Harry, to himself.

Moody looked truculent. 'It's alright for you, Harry. We've been fighting for years, losing friends and associates, people we've known for years, good people! We need a break and maybe this is it!.'

Harry didn't trust himself to speak. Two of those people Moody had been talking about were his own parents and he realised he was beginning to question his own certainties. He nodded quickly and left the study.

- o -

Professor McGonagall eyed Harry as he approached her desk.

'Harry- or should I say Mr. Potter- It's good to see you, please have a seat.' she murmured - but continued writing for a few seconds, rather like a doctor sizing up a patient before beginning the consultation.

She signed her name, blew on the ink to dry it, rolled the parchment up and sealed it. Then she turned to Harry and smiled. 'Now Harry, what can I do to help; Professor Moody says you need assistance in preparing for your lessons.'

Harry hesitated, then plunged into his explanation. 'When I was teaching my friends last year, in the Room of Requirement - '

Professor McGonagall stopped him. 'So there really is such a room then?'

'Oh, yes Professor.'

'And how exactly does one ?'

'The – er – the Headmaster asked me not to tell anyone how to – er – '

'Even me?'

'Anyone, Professor!'

McGonagall stared at Harry for some time, then nodded slowly. 'Very well, you were saying?'

'The room provided cushions instead of desks, and a huge number of other defence against the dark arts equipment.' Harry hesitated, 'I only really need the cushions, but I'm going to need desks and chairs as well, for formal teaching.'

McGonagall thought for a while. 'So those desks need to disappear, to be replaced by cushions?'

Harry nodded.

'Hmmm.' She pondered, 'Well, I expect I will be able to achieve that! Was there anything else?'

I do have few more thoughts, Professor,' Harry admitted, 'particularly regarding the start of the lessons-...'

- o -

Harry's first disapparation lesson didn't go as well as hoped. To start with Harry had been completely unable to work out how the Headmaster could teach him to disapparate in the Castle or grounds, where it was apparently prevented by the security charms.

'Consider the requirements for a lesson in disapparation, Harry,' suggested the Headmaster. 'A clear space, with a definite boundary, easily memorable reference points at each end and well away from the school.'

'Sorry Professor,' mumbled Harry, 'I still don't see it.'

'Ah, but you do. Look out of the window, what do you see?'

Harry crossed to the window and looked out over the castle grounds. He could see the lake, with the grass gently sloping down to the edge, the bushes and shrubs beside the lake, and the forest beyond. Towards Hogsmead, there was the rocky outcrop through which the tunnel led to the basement of the castle. Westwards lay the Quidditch pitch, beyond the broomsheds and changing rooms, with nothing beyond that but the hills and the sky

'Sorry Professor,' he said apologetically, I still don't see a place where disapparation could take place. I thought it wasn't possible in the castle grounds.'

The Headmaster smiled. 'Normally, Harry, you would be correct, however as the keeper or instigator of many of the castle protective spells, modification of the spells is not beyond my abilities.

Harry considered again. Behind him the portraits of the bygone headmasters were alive with faces. 'Well, the Quidditch pitch sounds favourite,' he hazarded, 'if you could modify the spell to allow disapparation.'

Dumbledore beamed. 'Exactly, and you shall be the first to try the venue for these lessons.'

Harry had looked slightly worried at this point.

The headmaster's face was wreathed in a beatific smile. 'Never fear, Harry, I'm sure there will be no problems.'

- o -

Harry was standing ten feet from the centre post of the northern goals on the quidditch pitch. A large card, on which a red and green target had been drawn, was pinned to the centre post.

' Now Harry,' instructed the headmaster, 'please stand still and memorise the post and the target. Memorise them at the size you see them now.'

Harry stood for what seemed like ages, but was probably only a minute.

'Good. Now step back ten paces.' instructed Dumbledore. Harry complied.

'Now Harry, think about the post and target coming to you until they are the same size as you memorised them.' Harry nodded. 'Good, now keep imagining the target coming to you and say the spell you memorised.'

Harry concentrated and muttered the spell "Omecrove Erehouy"

Immediately the target was nearer, as near as he had imagined it; but there was a problem, he couldn't move.

Harry looked down. Damn, he thought, I know I had legs when we started! He twisted his head and caught a glimpse of his legs, ten yards behind him. Splinched! Quite how he wasn't bleeding to death, Harry didn't know, his legs were cut off as if with a giant scalpel!

Professor Dumbledore muttered an incantation. Harry's legs caught up with him, and he could move again.

'A beginners mistake Harry!' chuckled Dumbledore, 'You tried to move to the target and forgot some parts of you. That is why you should imagine the target coming to you!'

Harry began to understand. His second attempt was much better, only a foot being left behind, although the third try left him a disembodied head, staring in panic at the target in front of him. Once united with his body once more, he begged off further attempts, pleading hunger and a desire to retain his sanity.

Professor Dumbledore smiled indulgently. 'Very well Harry, tomorrow, at the same time.' he said, then faded slowly until only his smile was left, which lingered awhile before suddenly vanishing.