* * *
“So where exactly are we
going now?” the dazed Harry dazedly asked Michael.
“To the shelters. Y’know, those places the
faculty prepared incase anything like this would ever happen?” Michael
replied, still half annoyed at Harry.
“Oh…” Harry looked back at the Hogwarts site.
The Aurors had begun dosing the fire, but he could see that there was still a
lot of it to go around.
After another 2 minutes of travel, Harry saw where
the walk had taken them.
It was a vast field with seemingly nothing on it.
“So where’s the shelter?” Harry asked.
“It’s underground I think.” Michael said.
“We would’ve found out sooner if you hadn’t
gone crack like that.”
“Ohhh…sorry about that Michael. It was just…”
Harry trailed off.
“Trauma, huh? Don’t worry about it. Just don’t
do it again.”
They walked again for some time before Harry noticed
something in the grass.
“Whoa! Watch out, there’s a snake!”
“No moron.” Michael said, laughing. “This is
the rubber snake portkey to the underground shelter of the Slytherins.”
“Okay…”Harry said, feeling stupid. The boy
who lived – afraid of snakes, even when he can talk to them? He thought to
himself and he laughed too.
Suddenly, Michael looked around and panicked.
“Oboy…the other students aren’t around. That
means they’re already at the shelters! We’re late!”
Michael ran to the west side of the field, dragging
Harry. There, he picked up a furry orange moomba <lion-like creature>
doll.
“Hold on tight!”
In an instant, Harry and Michael had been dragged and
hurtled through the stretches and recesses of time and space before landing on
their behinds with a thud on a cold, marble floor.
“Whoa, we made it!” Michael sighed. Their relief
was short lived.
“Ahh, children! I knew you would come! I knew it!
They all told me you were lost, but I found you! Yes I did!” The tall, skinny
woman continued her mindless blabbering.
“Oh no…” Harry said, realizing who it was. He
got up and turned to Michael.
“What’s she doing here?”
Michael smirked. “Since McGonagall croaked a couple
of years ago she became the temporary house head for Gryffindor. Seems 3 years
isn’t temporary enough for the old bag.”
Damn. It had to be Trelawney…
Harry thought to himself. “Waitaminit…
McGonagall CROAKED!?”
“I’ll explain upstairs.” Michael said, jerking
them both to their feet.
As he was dragged past a whacked Trelawney, Harry
noticed that this ‘shelter’ resembled Gryffindor tower perfectly.
“Wow…a couple of years in the future and magic
has reached a new height…” he whispered to himself.
“You say something?” Michael called to him from
the staircase to the boys’ dorms.
“Aw, nothing! I’m coming!” he replied, running
up.
He looked around.
All the students were staring at him, obviously trying to figure out who
he was.
He covered his face and ran up ahead of Michael, who
was now being flocked by some friends.
Upon arriving at the dorm, he realized he wouldn’t
have a bed, considering he wasn’t in the right time dimension. He didn’t
have any clothes or belongings either. He sat down on the windowsill. For an
underground shelter, this place sure had a good view of the great lake. He
sighed. How would he get home? If only he could talk to Ron and Hermione…then
again, who would believe his story? It was just so…impossible. Even on
wizarding standards, he had never heard of time travel. Then again, on wizarding
standards, Harry had never really been considered normal.
He closed his eyes. He had to think of someway to fix
this problem.
Think. He told himself. Nothing came. Think Harder!
Perhaps it was the Mirror of Erised that had made
this possible. It had revealed unbelievable things to him before, like the
Sorcerer’s Stone. Maybe now was just another one of those incidents. But why?
He plopped his head against the wall. Something warm
and liquid fell on the tip of his nose. He wiped it off. It was blood. All at
once he realized his scar was hurting so bad it could split his head in two. It
was bleeding this time.
He tried to scream, but all that came out of his lips
was a small yelp of pain. He felt like his throat was jammed. He fell to the
floor and cringed. Then, without warning a figure formed in his subconscious. It
was an eye. An eye as red as the blood trickling from his scar. He began to
choke.
“Hey James, I want you to meet – Whoa!”
Michael came rushing in with three other kids. Harry
couldn’t see too clearly anymore. All his senses were numb from the pain. He
was hauled onto a bed by two of the four people with him. Then, he fell into a
deep, trance-like sleep.
, ,
,
When he woke up, Harry found himself on one of the four poster beds,
still in the make shift Gryffindor tower. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. A
sleeping mass at the side of his bed jerked.
“Oh, you’re up.” She smiled. It was a girl his
age. Pitch black hair, with occasional streaks of white here and there. “I’m
Satrea, a friend of Michael. You passed out back there about an hour ago.”
“oh…” Harry started, rubbing his head. “I’m
– “
“James right? Yeah, Michael told me all about you.
Easily traumatized huh? Must be genetic. I mean, these white streaks on my hair
are genetic too.” She laughed. So did Harry. It wasn’t often that a
15-year-old would get white hair.
“So, where’s Michael? What’s going on
outside?” Harry asked.
“Well, I’m really not sure.” She answered. “He’s
been trying to tell Trelawney about what happened to you, but she’s kinda…y’know…whacked.
She won’t listen. The prefects haven’t received any news from the
headmaster, and none of really know the way out of this Gryffindor-tower-like
underground dome.”
“Oh…I guess we’ll have to wait then.” Harry
said.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Satrea told him.
Great, I’m stuck to waiting again.
He sighed, and was immediately lost in thought.
“So much…has happened…and I don’t have a
bleeding clue about any of it…..” he told himself in a low, inaudible
whisper..
“Tell me about it.” Satrea continued.
Harry turned to her. “You heard that?”
Satrea blushed and turned away. “Well, yeah. I
did.” She took a deep breath.
“I guess you can call it…a gift.”
“A gift…?” Harry repeated.
* * *
