Finally Home

Whenever I am feeling low

I think about it and I know

That's the place that will stay within me

Wherever I am in the world

"Gryffindor!" the Sorting Hat declared to loud cheers and even catcalls from the table. Skye adjusted herself on her precarious perch on the window ledge as her heart swelled with pride. For one terrible moment back there, she was sure the hat was going to sort Harry into another house. Whether he knew it or not, Harry Potter was indeed the son of the Marauders. She hoped that James, Lily were watching this wherever they were.

As Dumbledore dismissed the bloated students with a wave of his hand, Skye sighed mentally in relief. The inviting aroma of the food wafted all the way up to where she was, almost forcing her off her balance. If only she could swoop down and snatch some of that delicious-looking steak! Or anything on that table. Her stomach growled loudly as she recalled her last meal was the day before.

The Owlery was still the same as she had remembered, countless owls of all shades and colours perched on various rafters, high above the heads of the students who came to send a letter. Barn owls, eagle owls – snowy owls! Pleased to see a few more of her own species, Skye soared over to them to be less conspicious. With a few hoots of hello she was accepted into the group. Apparently, they were discussing the different places to catch the best food.

Skye kept half her attention on their discussion, while surreptitiously glancing around to see what the other owls were doing. If she wanted to pass off as an owl, it was the perfect time to polish up her imitation skills. Even if that meant eating rats and frogs. Anything for Harry, she sighed in reminder to herself. But still … if it was possible to sneak down to the kitchens …

She would have slapped herself if she could. Of course, during morning deliveries owls were allowed into the Great Hall to take a bite of their owners' breakfasts! Visions of succulent bacon and ham floated in her mind as her stomach protested again. Noticing that the discussion ended, she followed the other owls out of the Owlery to find some food.

Rats may be disgusting, mused Skye as she closed her eyes while swallowing a dead one whole, but it was better than an empty stomach. And plus, maybe it would be Peter.

Thoughts of him brought back her disbelief at seeing a small grey rat in the possession of Harry's schoolmate Ron Weasley earlier. It had been Peter. He was at Hogwarts.

She needed to get Sirius out of Azkaban as soon as she could. She only wished she knew how.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Skye grinned inwardly as Madam Hooch's voice floated up to her advantage point. She gazed affectionately down at Harry, one among the group of first-years having their first flying lesson. To her displeasure, however, Gryffindor was learning with Slytherin.

Her smirk widened when the broom zoomed into her godson's hand at a word from him. Harry was no doubt going to be a natural flyer like his father. Skye briefly wondered if he would be a seeker too.

Lost in her thoughts, Skye missed someone rising into the air. Only the screams and shouts from below alerted her to the presence of someone shooting up. She blinked in owl fashion at the spectacle, just as he slipped sideways and fell.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing!" she heard Madam Hooch tell the students, leading him off the pitch.

She got quite a clear view of him as he rose twenty feet into the air, and could not help but notice his round face. He reminded her of Alice McKinnon – should be Longbottom now. So was that Neville Longbottom? Frank should be quite disappointed, he liked flying.

Suddenly, the chatter below stopped. What now? Skye glanced down and was startled to find Harry talking to Draco Malfoy, of all people.

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, with Malfoy taking off on his broom, something clutched in his hand. Skye squinted against the glaring sun. It was a Remembrall. Assuming it was Neville's, why would he need it? His parents certainly did not have any memory problems.

Harry mounted his broom and kicked off. He pulled his broom up a little higher. The screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from his friend Ron travelled up with it. To Skye's amusement, Malfoy actually looked worried and stunned.

Harry shot forward on the broom like a javelin, barely missing Malfoy. People down there were clapping, and Skye's heart was in her mouth. If he fell … besides, he was disobeying a direct order from Madam Hooch.

"Catch it if you can, then!" Malfoy shouted, throwing the glass ball high into the air.

Skye watched, a mixture of pride at his courage and anxiety at his well-being, as the ball rise up and fell, Harry streaking after it. A foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently on to the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Oh dear.

"Never – in all my time at Hogwarts – how dare you – might have broken your neck – " Skye took a little time to appreciate a speechless Professor McGonagall, before realising the full impact of what Madam Hooch had said. The one to get on a broom would be expelled.

Seeing Professor McGonagall take Harry off, Skye immediately followed, peering through the windows, seeing her stride in front with a poor dejected-looking Harry behind.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?" Professor McGonagall poked her head within a classroom.

Wood? Surely not the son of the Gryffindor Quidditch captain when the Marauders were in their third year? Skye's suspicions were quickly proved right when a burly fifth-year boy came out of the classroom, looking confused. "Follow me, you two," Professor McGonagall commanded.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I've found you a Seeker." A WHAT? Skye's first thought was that. And the second was, James would be so proud.

"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive. Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it." Hearing Professor McGonagall praise Harry's abilities confirmed that her hearing was not impaired, as the owl blinked in rapid succession.

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule," continued Professor McGonagall as Skye grinned mentally, forcing herself not to cartwheel in midair in glee.

How could she ever thought she could miss his first flying lesson?

The first thought that entered Skye's head was that it was impossible. Had she really just heard the roar of a fully-grown mountain bull troll? Gliding to the window closest the commotion, she poked a head in. Sadly, her sensitive ears were not mistaken as all her senses were assaulted with TROLL.

Preparing to escape from the stench, she almost missed a fleeting movement behind some statues. Skye gaped in astonishment as Harry and Ron darted out from their hiding place, sprinting to the door and locking it behind the troll. They had nerve, she had to give them that.

Her thoughts were suddenly cut off by a high, petrified scream, followed by a chorus of "Hermione!" from the two boys. She stared in shock as Harry turned the key, fumbling in panic, and dashing inside. She advanced to the window in the toilet.

A girl – Hermione, she thought – was shrinking against the wall opposite the advancing troll. As she watched in near horror, wondering if she should fetch a teacher, when Harry and Ron both started yelling at it, throwing things around. She had to admit, pea-brain was a pretty good description of a troll, but they had to be crazy.

Even James would not have done that, Skye reflected wryly, for someone he did not like.

Harry leapt onto the troll, nearly causing Skye to fall off the window sill. It was brave, yes, but so incredibly stupid!

"Wingardium Leviosa!" she heard Ron cry the spell, saw the club fly into the air and with a loud crack onto the troll's head. Blinking again, she saw three alive teenagers and one unconscious troll.

It was highly unusual for two eleven-year-olds to take out a troll barely two months into their studies, Skye reflected.

Oh Merlin, that boy was going to be the death of her.