A “Fan Fiction” Based on the Harry Potter Series By J. K. Rowling
Chapter 6 “ When You Play With Fire…
Please R&R, it makes for better stories! Thank you.
The summer days flew by for Ron, Harry, and Hermione, all three being fully occupied in their pursuits. When Ron was away Hermione would work longer and on her days off. Her job was going well but it easily became repetitive and Hermione took to working with a team that was cataloging the contents of the archive’s oldest documents. She was challenged to learn more early English, Latin, and an obscure language that appeared with many of the rune documents. For this reason Hermione was becoming far happier when she was not putting in regular hours. Her supervisor, Justin, allowed her to work in the other areas when she had the time and even mentioned Hermione’s initiative to Albemarle.
With Hermione’s days filled with work, in the evening she usually paid a visit to Kate at the Blueberry Inn and shared a glass or two of wine with her. Although the two were not close friends, they both enjoyed the company and talking about life in Hogsmeade, their childhoods (Kate was a squibb,) and changes in the wizarding community.
Ginny would write to Hermione almost every day and Hermione loved receiving the letters, always returning at least a quickly scribbled note about Ron or her job. Over the past two years, and principally the past five months, the two had grow quite close, each being the sister the other never had. For Ginny this regular communication was one of the few things that helped her stay sane while Harry was gone. She would pour out her longings to Hermione and exhort her to write Harry telling him to “please write soon.” Hermione knew far better than Ginny that Harry was a poor letter writer but she also learned that when letters did arrive they were long and full of passion and happiness. This made Hermione very happy for Harry who was finally becoming a “normal” wizard with a “normal” life.
The friendship between the girls also made the Weasley’s rethink their ban on Ginny visiting Hog House. Eventually the ban was nominally lifted, but only when Harry was not there. Ginny would come into Hogsmeade and hang around the house, window shop in the town, and even go to Hermione’s office a couple times, though she thought the work tedious. At night she slept downstairs in Harry’s room, even though Hermione had twin beds upstairs, and dreamt of Harry coming back home and being around for her last year at Hogwarts. At Ginny’s first two visits she was startled by her mother making a “surprise” visit under the pretense of wanting to drop off some cookies for the two girls. Ginny just stood and set her jaw, waiting for her mother to leave; she had obviously planned the surprise visit to be sure Harry was not there. One time she had even pushed Fred into her spy business but he just said “hi,” told Ginny what was going on, and apparated back to the shop. In a way it was comical and she knew it would not last. Soon she would be seventeen and an “adult.”
Aerodynamics
Harry was having the time of his life. Nothing could be better than this, he thought, except if Ginny were in the stadium cheering for him. The mornings were long and filled with lectures on strategy, tactics, and even aerodynamics. Most of it Harry found repetitive and boring but he also learned a great deal about simple things such as barrel-rolls to avoid bludgers and Immelman’s, a move to reverse direction and gain altitude without losing too much speed. The afternoons were all flying and practical applications for the things he had learned in the morning. There were only five other prospects at the camp that summer, the rest of the team were veterans, so they all received individual instructions a few times every day.
There was one other seeker at the camp, Angela Bright, a petite brunette with an evil eye for Harry. She had not attended Hogwarts, rather she was home schooled through an independent co-op of witches and wizards in Devon. However, her seeker skills were legendary at the semi-pro level; like Harry, she almost never failed to catch the snitch. From day one Harry knew he had his work cut out for himself if he was going to earn the number one spot, and he was determined to do just that. At times Harry felt far behind the learning curve, especially when he saw Angie fly past him in a complex maneuver, she was simple unbelievable in the air “ and they all used the same model, Firebolt 5’s. Harry spent time studying Angie’s moves and tactics to find her keys to success and her weaknesses. One thing Harry knew from his first observations was that Angie’s smaller body shape reduced her aerodynamic drag far more than Harry would be able to, he could not shrink and Angie was full grown. As hard as Harry tried, his attempts to become more aerodynamic failed to the point where his coach had to point out to Harry that he could not possibly see the snitch with his nose jammed into the broomstick. Harry talked to the coach about his concerns but he just laughed at Harry and told him to ”just watch her more, she definitely has weaknesses.”
As the camp progressed Harry eased up and started to rely more on his natural flying instincts than the textbook lessons. Within a few days Harry found himself frequently beating Angie. After one drill where Harry had left Angie in the dust, the same coach Harry had talked to a few days earlier called him aside and asked him what he thought he was doing right. Harry told him that he was playing by instinct and Angie was playing by the textbook. Smiling, the coach told him that all of the textbook learning in the world would never replace natural ability, but it could enhance it. From that point forward Harry played the game instinctively and used the textbook strategies to hone his rough areas. The result was an early end to the tryouts and Harry earning the number one spot.
After the meeting between Harry, Angie, and the head coach informing them of his decision, the two seekers walked out to the field together. After a short and uncomfortable silence Angie finally spoke and told Harry that she was happy for him and that he had earned the top spot. Harry thanked her and gave Angie just one piece of advice: ”Loosen up and play the game like you love it.” Shaking hands they went their separate ways until October.
After turning in his equipment and signing out his playbook, Harry went back to the dorms and packed his things. August 9th, just in time, Harry thought. Harry wrote a quick note to Mr. & Mrs. Weasley with his news and asked for their permission to take Ginny out to dinner at a Muggle restaurant for her birthday. Hedwig took Harry’s letter and returned a few hours later with their reply:
Dear Harry,
Arthur and I are so happy for you and your success. We will not tell anyone so it can be your surprise.
About dinner. We had planned a family meal and are expecting the Lupin’s and some others to join us so we will have to spoil your thoughtful offer. If you are interested, George and Fred said they would be happy to treat you and Ginny to ice cream at Zonko’s after dinner.
Love,
Molly and Arthur
A feeling of worthlessness
The absence of any heavy construction equipment made Liam feel awkward; he was used to loud machines and sweating laborers, not old men with wands doing months of work in a few days, or hours. It had taken less than a week for his “help” to remove the remains of the east and west wing and stack, in neatly numbered piles, the salvageable materials. What remained would be dumped back into the cavity below.
But before that could happen, a team of wizards and witches from the Ministry of Magic “ what branch Liam could not determine “ descended into the pit and for two days appeared to be searching for something. When they finally left the scene Liam asked them if they had found what they were looking for.
“Oh, yes, we found it all right. See?” And the wizard held up a clear bag that held what seem to be a very large raisin.
“What is it?”
“Why, the proof that the dark lord was destroyed, his heart.”
Not desiring more details or “proof” Liam bid them good day and finished his final inspections with a number of wizards. This inspection was a formality, previous work had shown Liam that the next steps were ready to begin; even the foundation and soil compaction was top quality. Liam instructed a number of guild Masters to start their plumbing and electrical work and went to lunch in the Great Hall. About thirty minutes later the Senior Master returned, reporting that they had finished their work, if he cared to check. Nothing should surprise you, Liam. He thought to himself, but just 30 minutes? So he could not resist a little humor.
“Thirty minutes? What took you so bloody long?”
“We are dreadfully sorry, Mr. Keane, but we did not want to interrupt your dinner.’ The nervous man replied.
“What do you mean?” Liam asked, though he supposed he already knew the answer.
“Well, Mr. Keane, we finished in five minutes but thought you would want a little more time to eat. You’ve been working so hard here…”
Laughing at himself, Keane dismissed the man and sat there in wonder. And this is the world my brother lives in? No wonder the contract did not have any early completion bonuses!
The next step, a full nine months ahead of his target date, was filling in the vast twelve meter deep hole. Unrecoverable wreckage from the buildings would account for most of the fill, and it took his workers all of two hours to push the material in place, compact it, and inspect the work. The remaining three meter depression would remain as part of the new structure. But having come this far so fast, Liam was stuck.
His basic plans for the building structures had been submitted only three days ago and he was still waiting for approval. Usually these approvals took months since there were always revisions and re-drafts to complete. He felt good about his drafts and even thought they would add a little to the overall picture of the school. Adapting some of the designs he had used for the new Parliament building, Liam added more rounded corners that flared outward to the north side of the east wing and the south side of the west wing. From the air it would look something like the blades of a blender. The turrets were gone “ he expected resistance there; the new dormitories still centered on the common rooms of each house, but they were now spread further apart. The axis of the four wings would be an enormous glass and masonry dome, reaching far above the heights of the four wings, and connected by wide, winding stone stairs which merged at the mezzanine then split out again toward each wing.
One area which Liam knew he would be challenged was in his plans for bringing the school up to code in fire prevention. Tiernan had assured him that it was not an issue but did not go into much detail. The plans would include the alterations, Liam told his brother, and if the board wanted to omit them that was their business and their responsibility.
At the end of the day, as every day, Tiernan appeared at the school to return his brother to Bath. The routine gave the two men time to talk and they both enjoyed reacquainting themselves with each other. Marge always asked her brother-in-law in for dinner, but both men were wary of her persistent questions about the secrecy of this big job. Not wanting to be rude, Tiernan would accept once or twice a week, but usually excused himself shortly after dinner. After a few weeks, however, his desire to stay and play with the children or just relax with his brother’s family finally got the better of Tiernan. Gradually, and always under Liam’s eye, he started to hang around more and quickly became the “favorite” Uncle Tiernan to his nieces and nephew.
One evening, after a long visit from Tiernan, Marge asked her husband where Tiernan was living. Not knowing himself, Liam opined that it “must be close.” Trying to end the conversation, Liam kissed his wife goodnight and turned over; but Marge persisted.
“Liam, you’re not telling me something. If it is about work I understand but you watch over your brother whenever he plays with the children. Should I have some reason to be worried?”
“No, dear, really. It is just nice to have him back in my life.”
“Liam, the children adore him. Are you certain?”
“Yes, Marge…good night.” Liam put a little emphasis on “good night” trying to signal his desire to end the conversation.
“Ok, hon, I just had to be sure. Tiernan asked me if he could take Rudy to the shore with him this weekend. Do you think that would be fine?” Now Liam was stuck. If he said “no” Marge would know he was hiding something and if he said “yes” then he would be uncomfortable with Rudy hanging out with a wizard. “…Yeah, sure Marge…” Liam finally replied, and hoped for the best.
“All right, good night Liam.” Marge kissed he husband’s cheek and turned over. But after an hour she was still awake, wondering even more about her children’s favorite uncle.
Misunderstood intentions
Percy was wracking his brain trying to remember tricks that would interest Peter without using real magic. He new one good card trick but did not have a deck of cards. Thinking that perhaps a memory charm might get him out of his promise…he rejected that idea as silly, not to mention dishonest. Ok, Percival, what should you do? Then he had an idea. “Peter, do you know the story of Merlin and King Arthur?”
“Sure, everyone does? Why?”
“Well, Merlin has a lot to do with magic, you know. I though that instead of doing silly magic tricks I could tell you about…”
“No way, stinky, you promised to show me some tricks.”
“Yes, yes, I did Peter. And you promised to stop calling me ‘Stinky,’ remember?” This was not starting well, Percy realized. “Ok, Peter, sit over here.” Percy offered, pointing to a spot on the ground next to him.
“No way, you stink, and you might be a pervert, too.”
“Peter, if you want to see magic come on down. Look, you can even hold my magic wand.” Just wanting to get it over with, Percy did not realize the trouble he had just made for himself. The expression on Peter’s face surprised Percy, but his words stung worse.
“NO WAY, STINKY, I’M NOT TOUCHING YOUR FILTHY 'MAGIC WAND.’” Peter jumped up and ran away into the woods yelling “Pervert, there's a pervert in the woods…”
Startled, Percy new he had to disappear quickly. It had been months since he had apparated and he closed his eyes and focused on the first familiar place he could think of. By the time Percy realized the location, it was too late, but it did solve one problem: getting Peter to believe him.
Running home, Peter looked behind to make sure the pervert was not following when two strong arms caught him. A voice said “Slow down, Peter, it’s all right.”
But in his panicked state he just blurted out: “Mister, help me, there's a weirdo back there who wants me to touch…ahhhh.” Peter had looked up and seen Percy. Thinking it not wise to smile, Percy let Peter go, his hands open and raised above his head and speaking quickly. “Peter, look, I am NOT a pervert. And I believe I have just shown you the magic I promised.”
Still startled by running into the man he had just run away from, Peter was slowly walking backwards. “How? How did you get over here, you were just over there…” pointing to a spot a couple hundred meters away. “…are all PERVERTS that fast?”
“PETER, I am NOT a pervert.” But the boy was now not only frightened but confused.
“Peter, here, let me show you.” Bugger, I did it again!
“NO!”
Percy apparated to a spot about 20 feet further away from Peter and gave him a satisfied “I told you so” look. Peter stopped walking backwards and pointed at Percy. He appeared to be trying to say something but no sound came out of his mouth.
“Peter? I am not a pervert, please believe me.”
Peter was still standing there, still pointing, but he looked like he was thinking again. After a long staring contest Peter said, genuinely curious now, “How did you do that? That was BLOODY BRILLIANT! Wait till my brother hears about this. Can you do any other tricks?”
Both relieved that he was no longer being called a ‘pervert’ and annoyed that his apparition was considered a ‘trick,’ Percy pulled off his hat and sat on the trunk of a fallen tree. He could not count the number of rules and laws he had just broken, but he knew he was in serious trouble. On top of that, the magic he just performed in front of a Muggle was one of the many that the Ministry was able to track so his self-imposed exile was about to end. In fact, he expected an owl any second, probably followed by a couple Aurors. Percy, you can't do much right, can you?
Peter was still standing away from Percy, hoping to see him disappear and reappear again, but he was disappointed. “Hey Stinky…I mean, Perty, can you do that again?”
“PERCY, Peter, PERCY…And YES, I can do it as much as I want, but I don't feel like doing it now. Sorry.”
“Why? You’re brilliant at it, really.”
“Thank you, Peter.” what should I do now? Percy had given up, resigned to prison for a stupid “trick” he had not intended to perform.
“Are you ok, Percy? I can get you something if you have a headache.”
“Thank you, Peter, no. In a few minutes I will be in prison and you will have your memory erased and this little accident will never have happened.” Peter was now walking up to Percy with a concerned look. “Why will you go to prison? You didn't do anything bad, or did you?” Again suspicion flashed in Peter’s eyes.
“Kid, I have done plenty of bad things, but none to land me in Azkaban, until now.” Well, it wasn't much of a lie.
“Ash-cab-in? What is that?”
“Az-Ka-Ban, Peter, it is our prison, wizard’s prison.” Percy answered, without thinking.
Then Peter seemed to suddenly accept Percy for what he said he was…or at least what Peter thought Percy said he was. “Yeah, right, ok. So did you go to that magician school in London? I have seen some of the tricks they do on TV, they’re amazing.”
“Peter, I am not a magician. I am a wizard, my whole family is, in fact. At least those who are left.”
“Same difference, right?”
“No, not at all. A magician performs tricks to make you THINK something has happened. A wizard actually makes it happen.”
“Oh, right, Percy, so you actually beamed from there to there.” Peter said with a hint of sarcasm while pointing from one spot to another.
“I do not beam, Peter. That is fantasy, this is reality.” Percy then apparated to a spot about 10 feet from where he had been sitting. “Would you like to see it again?”
Peter did not answer, but Percy could tell that he was shaken. He did not know if Peter was convinced at this point; Percy really did not care about himself so he made a suggestion. “Peter, I can see that you still do not believe me, would you allow me to apparate you somewhere so you can see it yourself?”
“Is that what you call it, ‘apparate?’”
“Yes. I will stand here. If you would like me to take you someplace you will have to hold my arm tightly.” Percy noticed a look of suspicion return to Peter’s face, but he stood there. If Peter wanted to believe him he would come over. If he did not there was no harm.
“Ok, but don't try anything.” And he started to walk toward Percy. In a few seconds he was standing in front of Percy with his nose wrinkled, but he grabbed Percy’s arm and closed his eyes in expectation.
“Peter, you can open your eyes. Where would you like to go?”
“Can you take me to my house? It is a few hundred meters that way.”
“Um, I forgot Peter, this may be a problem. I have apparate to a place I am familiar with. Can you think of something around here?”
“How about the canal museum, it is right down…”
“Yes, Peter, I saw it yesterday. Just a moment.” Percy started looking around.
“What are you doing?”
“Two things, actually. First I am making myself familiar with this place so I can return easily. Second, I am looking to make sure no one else sees us vanish. Ready?”
“Ok.” Peter said with a slight shake in his voice.
CRACK!
“Wow! We did it. Wow! Can we do it again? Please, Percy, that was WICKED!” Peter was jumping up and down and a family on a nearby narrowboat were starting to look around to see what was so exciting.”
“We should go back now, um, maybe we should move out of sight over here.”
“Sure, Percy. I can't wait to tell my friends about this.” POP They were back in the woods where they started.
“Peter, you can't tell anyone about this, I'm afraid. For one thing, everyone would think you were crazy.” Percy felt bad for putting Peter down like that but he had no choice. “Also, I would probably be attacked on sight.”
“Why Percy? You can make them believe.”
“Peter, it's not that simple. Look, do you know how many wizards there are in England? Real wizards.”
“A couple, maybe?” Peter’s voice, however, told Percy that he had no clue, as was to be expected.
“Today there are about fourty thousand wizards in the country.”
“FOURTY THOUSAND? Where are they?”
“Almost all of them are smarter than me and do not reveal themselves to Muggles…that's you, a non-magical person. We're a different, well, were human, but…it's hard to explain. I believe we would cause panic if we revealed our existance to the general public. When I asked you about Merlin a while back I was going to tell you the story of how magic started, but you were not interested.” Percy said, as if he were chiding Peter, except he had a smile on his face.
“Would you tell me now, Percy? I'd really like to know.” Peter’s face showed an eagerness he had not seen in a First Year student. But no, Peter is not a wizard and I'm not at Hogwarts.
“Well, firsty, it's a very long story and there are still parts that we wizards do not know.”
“I don't care. Please, Percy?”
This kid’s enthusiasm is refreshing. “Ok, Peter. Make yourself comfortable.” Percy thought he would just fill the time, before he was captured, with the ancient story. Percy took his wand out (and noticed that Peter now looked at it with awe) and touched it to the side of his head. As he pulled it away a long silvery filament trailed the wand’s tip. Percy then leaned toward Peter and touched the wand to his temple.
“Close your eyes, Peter, this is "The Story in the Runes.”
A/N: Liam & Marge’s children are Rudy, 10, Margaret, 7, and Mary, 5. A fourth child miscarried in mid-April. Marge is 8 years younger than Liam and it is her second marriage, but all the children are hers and Liam’s