A/N A move across the country and searching for and then starting a new job led to another lengthy hiatus from writing fan fiction. I can't believe I started this story over three years ago! To anyone who is still reading, I commend you on your tenacity and thank you for your patience. After several false starts that ran directly into a solid wall of writer's block, I've managed to get the creative juices flowing again, though only at a trickle - writing this chapter took a week. I'm aiming to start posting new chapters once a week, though I can't make any promises!
HUNDREDS of feet below me, the River Thames wound east through the outer districts of London like a thick black snake, glittering with the reflected lights of the city. Despite the warmth of the late summer night, the air was cool at this higher altitude, and I had to keep my speed relatively slow to avoid being chilled by the wind of my passage.
A short time into my journey, I saw planes taking off from a small airport ahead to my left, and bent my broom down to fly closer to the river's surface. Getting hit by an airplane would make a rather ignominious fate for the Boy-Who-Lived. Fortunately the moon had waned to a tiny sliver and, in my black clothing, I had little worry of being spotted from the ground by the city's ambient light.
After what I judged to be nearly an hour of flying, I came alongside a large dark area on the ground to my left. Having studied the map assiduously in my copious free time in the preceding days, I knew this must be the Rainham Marshes ,a large nature reserve situated between London and Grays and roughly demarcating the halfway point of my trip.
Deciding I was more than safely distant from the airport, I increased my altitude, knowing I'd be passing over the highway that crossed the Thames a short distance ahead in Grays. Sure enough, I quickly passed through Grays and over the bridge before long. The Thames had widened significantly, and I stuck to the southern banks, as the small Portal isle was much closer to that shore.
After around another hour of flying, I saw the Medway River fork south from the Thames, separating the English mainland from the Isle of Sheppey. Realizing I had zoned out from the monotonous nighttime flight and somewhat overshot my mark, I hooked a wide, descending loop, decreased my speed, and kept a sharp eye on the water below.
A-ha! There it was. Down below me, a dark blotch differentiated itself from the dim shimmer of the river in the starlight. Lacking much light, I couldn't be sure of the shape of the small island from so high up, so I descended and circumnavigated its edge. Yes, this was it, with a narrow inlet creating the shape that had called to mind an elephant's trunk.
I landed roughly where the elephant's mouth would have been, on a muddy shore covered in round wet rocks made smooth by the flow of the tides. The briny scent of the sea mixed with the heavy odor of river mud. Putting down my broom and pulling my wand and pocketwatch out of my robe, I managed a Lumos on my first try and checked the time. Just after four in the morning - the journey had taken me just about three hours.
Stowing away my pocket-watch and reclaiming my broom, I pointed the lit tip of my wand toward the interior of the isle. A thick tangle of brush and tree roots reaching down to the water's edge lined a steep bank. Walking a short way, careful to keep my footing on the slippery rocks, I soon discovered a narrow gap in the vegetation carved by draining rainwater, which I scrambled up.
The trees became less scraggly and the underbrush cleared as the terrain leveled off at the top of the bank. My robe caught on branches as I pushed my way further inland. Soon I came across a small mossy clearing in the trees and decided it was a good place to make camp until morning. No point trying to find the Portal while it was still dark.
I set up my tent quickly, removed my muddy boots once within, stripped off my robe, gulped down some water directly from the kitchen sink, extinguished my wand, and stretched out on the section of floor I had cast Cushioning charms on. They had worn out somewhat, but my tiredness from the flight won out over my desire for comfort and, ignoring the growl of hunger from my belly and forgoing my habitual Occlumency exercises, I was quickly asleep.
Upon waking the next morning, I groaned in pain. The cushioning charms had all but run out overnight, and combined with the exertions of last night's flight, I was feeling stiff and had several cricks in my shoulder and back. I took a long, hot shower, and then set some water to boil in my largest pot. Once it had started simmering, I filled it with oatmeal and a handful of raisins and dried apricots, gulped down some more water from the faucet, and exited my tent.
The sun was hot overhead and the trees lining the small clearing cast short shadows on my the mossy ground, which felt pleasantly soft under my bare feet. Taking off my shirt, I performed several rounds of leisurely Sun Salutations, taking my time with the forward bends and letting the knots in my torso loosen. Sweaty but much more limber, I stepped back into the cool shade and set the pot of oatmeal to cool and took a long hot shower. Turning the faucet to the coldest setting, I withstood the frigid water for a few moments to cool off.
I broke my fast outside, sitting on a fallen log in the growing shade of the clearing and looked around. A narrow slice of the sparkling waters of the Thames were just visible through the gaps in the trees past my tent, but all I could see behind me were thick green and brown layers of foliage. I wasn't entirely sure where to start looking for the Portal, but figured I'd try to make my way toward the center of the little island. I scraped the rest of the oatmeal from the bottom of the pot, my stomach pleasantly stretched by the meal.
Going back in my tent, I transferred my watch and wand from my robe to the pockets in my chinos, drank as much water as I could stomach, and tossed on a t-shirt to avoid getting scraped by stray branches. Rummaging around, I found the cutting knife in my potions kit, put on my trainers, and ventured out to find the Portal.
Checking the compass on my watch, I judged the center of the isle to be roughly northeast from my current location, and set off through the trees in that direction, chipping bits of bark off each one I passed with my knife to mark my path. The terrain sloped gently upwards, and after twenty minutes of walking I emerged on a rocky outcropping. Following a natural pathway through the rocks, I soon reached the top of a small cliff.
At this height I was above the treeline and had a three hundred and sixty degree view of the island. Slowly turning around in a circle, I scanned the the island. I could see the narrow peninsula that I had taken to thinking of as the Elephant's Trunk on the southwestern shore, near where I had made camp, though I couldn't make out my tent through the foliage.
The eastern shore of the island was more sparsely covered by trees than the rest, and my diaphragm clenched briefly with excitement when I saw a small circle of stone columns, too round and regularly spaced to be a natural formation. Glancing at my compass, I saw it was directly east of my vantage point.
An owl hooted above me, and I shaded my eyes with a hand and looked up. Hedwig! I had nearly forgotten about her; she had returned to Regent's Park after delivering my letter to Dumbledore several days ago, and I had told her to go out and enjoy herself hunting, and then find me at her leisure. She landed on my shoulder and pecked at my ear affectionately.
"Hedwig, it's good to see you! I would have brought some treats along if I'd known you'd be back. I'm going to walk back to my tent and strike camp; want to meet me there?"
The inexplicably intelligent bird hooted once in what I took to be agreement and jumped off my shoulder and flew to the branch of a nearby tree, watching me expectantly. I followed the path I'd carved into the trees back to my tent, Hedwig flitting from branch to branch above me, and I felt glad of her company.
Once back at camp, I put Hedwig in her cage with a few treats and told her to get some rest. I wasn't sure if she'd be able to fly through the Portal, as I had very little idea of what to expect of it. A moment of doubt set in, that I myself wouldn't be able to figure out how to go through, but I shook it off - if there were no instructions in the book I'd picked up, surely it was relatively self-evident.
Hedwig munched down a few treats and then nestled her head beneath a wing. I returned the knife to my potions kit and had some more water, then packed up my tent and retraced my steps back to the rocky outcropping. I didn't bother climbing back to the top, instead wending my way around it, and set down the eastern slope, keeping a close eye on my compass to keep my course as straight as possible.
I had soon reached the area where the trees thinned out, and quickly located the circle of weathered stone columns. My worries about not being able to find the entrance had indeed been unfounded. A huge moss-covered stump stood in the center of the circle, bearing a round trapdoor with a rusted iron handle on top.
I gave the handle a few hard jerks, but the door didn't budge. All of my practice casting spells paid off, however, when I tapped the trapdoor and said Alohomora, and heard a faint grinding of metal through the wood that sounded very much like a bolt sliding open. Trying again, I was able to open the trapdoor with ease.
A musty smell drifted up from the darkness below. Muttering a Lumos, I pointed my wand down into the hole and saw a spiral staircase made of stone leading straight down.
"Well, here goes nothing."
As I made my way down the staircase with one hand brushing the outer wall to keep my balance, the mustiness grew, the air growing damp and chilly. At the bottom of the staircase, a long tunnel carved directly out of the bedrock stretched out ahead. Several more minutes walking led me to another spiral staircase identical to the first. Climbing up, I came to another trapdoor, and shoving it up, it swung open without needing to be unlocked.
Feeling a thrill of excitement, I emerged out into the sunlight, my eyes protesting at the sudden brightness. When they adjusted, I took a look around. I was on top of a small stone tower, no more than a few stories high and perhaps ten feet in diameter, encircled by a low crenellated wall. I didn't see a way down; I'd probably have to use my broom.
Pocketing my wand and taking out my watch, I oriented myself with its compass. The Isle was far larger than I expected. The tower I was on was in a large grassy field. To the north, hills covered in brush and scraggly trees rolled up into a low mountain, which stretched from west to east. I could see a vast expanse of marshy wetlands some distance to the south, a maze of narrow channels threading through tall reeds, with the blue water of the sea shore visible far in the distance.
A thick old growth forest covered the ground to the east as far as I could see, while the grassy fields surrounding the tower undulated west in a series of gentle knolls, dotted with small copses of evergreens. I decided I'd explore those first, thinking one might hold a clearing suitable for a secluded campground.
With my initial survey done, I set up my tent on the tower. Hedwig looked up when I entered, looked at the bright light streaming in from the open tent-flap, and promptly stuck her head under her wing and went back to sleep. I took another long draught of water from my kitchen faucet, grabbed my broom, then struck my tent again, slung it on my back, straddled my broom, and flew west toward the first copse.
I hopped from one copse to another until I found one with a medium sized clearing right in the middle, covered in an aromatic layer of dry pine needles. I put down my tent, removed my shirt and stretched contentedly, inhaling deeply and enjoying the gentle breeze on my skin for a few moments, bringing some relief from the day's heat. Closing my eyes, I took in the whispering sound of pine needles rustling accompanied by the chirping of birds.
I felt a sense of relief, an easing of tension in my neck and between my shoulder blades as if a weight had lifted, that had nothing to do with the lack of my tent's weight on my back the stretching I'd done. I hadn't realized it before, but the stress of living in parks in London, never more than a stone's throw from passing Muggles, had weighed on me. This idyllic Isle, however, filled me with a sense of safety. Finally, I'd reached a place I could call home, however temporary my stay here might be.
After setting up camp, I glanced at my watch and saw it was just past four in the afternoon. My belly rumbled, and I decided to take a flight south to the beach past the marshlands and try my luck at some fishing. Getting my fishing pole and a vial from my potions kit from my tent, I lifted up some rocks until I had filled the vial with fat, wriggling earthworms.
I cut up Dudley's loose t-shirt that I had been wearing when I left Privet Drive with my knife, tying the rags together to form a makeshift rope. Strapping my fishing pole to my back with it, I took off on my broom, flying south.
Several hours and many fruitless casts later, I managed to pull a foot-long bass from the water with my second to last earthworm. After it had thrashed out it's last few breaths, I stuck it to my fishing pole with a sticking charm after several attempts - it was a charm I still hadn't mastered. Strapping the bundle to my back with my makeshift rope, I flew back to camp in the waning light of the setting sun.
The knives from my Potions kit wasn't ideally suited to the task, but with a bit of dedicated effort I managed to gut the bass. Scaling it was too much effort so I left the skin on, and by the time night fell I had it sauteeing in my largest pan on one of the stovetops in my kitchen, and some rice cooking in a pot on the other.
The enticing aroma of the cooking fish was making me acutely aware of my hunger, so I went outside. The sun having completely set, I gathered some rocks and deadwood from under the trees surrounding the clearing. Digging out a small hole near my tent, I lined the edge with the rocks I'd gathered and filled it with deadwood.
I stepped into the tent to check on the fish, jabbing it with a knife, and decided it was done. Removing it and the rice, also done, from the stove and setting them to cool a bit, I grabbed my second-year Charms book to refresh my memory on the wand movement and incantation for the Bluebell Flame spell. After several attempts, I managed to get my campfire blazing with an eerie blue flame outside.
Hedwig came out of the tent while I was sitting cross-legged by the fire enjoying my meal. I gave her the slightly burnt skins of the fish to pick at, which she seemed to enjoy immensely, letting out appreciative hoots every few bites. Hopping onto my shoulder with a flap, she gave me an affectionate peck and took off into the night, no doubt planning to supplement her meal of fish with some hapless rodents.
After finishing my meal of fish and rice, I gathered some more branches and threw them on the fire, then wrote a journal entry in my Variable Volume describing the Portal to the Isle and a rough description and sketch of the Isle's geography, with plans to make a more detailed map after doing some exploring.
Deciding to call it a night, I went back into the tent and refreshed the cushioning charms in my sleeping area. I fell asleep immediately after my Occlumency exercises, feeling accomplished but exhausted.