A Place of Contemplation
by Jardyn39
Chapter 4: Dumbledore's Cabin
Harry Apparated silently directly onto the small timber jetty, looking out into the mist. The deck boarding glistened with beads of moisture and the smell of salt and seaweed was heavy in the air.
Somewhere out there was a series of small hidden islands, each unplottable since wizarding records began. Even from here, Harry could almost feel the magic.
Harry closed his eyes, and remembered Dumbledore standing there next to him on that very deck.
"Welcome, Harry. Welcome to Avalon. Contrary to popular belief, the island that the three maids brought Arthur to his final resting place, is only one of several wizarding islands out here. Wizards that have sought these islands, I should advise, have universally been considered insane.
"This is a place for Kings and Princes, Harry, those that fight for good and the well-being of others before their own mortal considerations.
"However, our destination isn't quite as prestigious. There are no palaces on our island.
"Even so, the islands will not allow themselves to be tainted by an unworthy guest. Many wizards have become lost in the mists, never to be seen again.
"I should warn you, Harry, that if you will never be able to disclose the secret of travelling to the island I'm about to show you, unless that wizard is worthy him or herself. The mist cannot be deceived.
"In fact, the common assumption is that the isle of Avalon is a few miles down the coast. We'll visit that island too, as we are so close."
"Is that island magical too, Sir?"
"No, Harry. But there is a place that does excellent fish and chips that I'm rather fond of."
Harry grinned widely remembering, and then his face fell. It had been a long time since he had recalled Dumbledore's words so vividly. He missed his mentor terribly.
For a moment, Harry listened as the gentle waves lapped against the bank.
A loud pop interrupted his reverie. Snape marched up towards Harry, muttering, "One of these days it will be nice to Apparate somewhere directly, and not have to jump five times around the country to evade detection."
"So, you really do know this place," said Harry, wiping his face.
"Of course," bristled Snape. "He trusted me!"
"I wasn't insulting you," insisted Harry. "The fact the Dumbledore showed us both this place says quite a lot for how he regarded each of us. That's all I meant."
"Oh. We should get on if we're going to get there before nightfall."
They climbed into the small rowboat and sat quietly, each thinking of their destination. This was the only way to get to the secret island.
Suddenly, the boat lurched forward.
Snape sighed.
"I do hope we were thinking of the same island. We may never reach land again otherwise."
Harry snorted and said, "Well I was certainly thinking of the right place. I do feel a little over dressed, though. You were thinking of Majorca as well as me, weren't you?"
They were soon completely enveloped in the cool white mist.
*
Harry became aware that the waters were becoming very still and the boat had slowed. They would be tested now, to see if they were worthy of their destination. According to legend, sea monsters patrolled the sea between the islands, waiting for the spirits in the mist to unleash them against unwelcome intruders.
Harry stared out into the mist. Strange shapes danced in front of his eyes. For a moment he thought he saw deep blue eyes and half moon spectacles.
Then he thought he saw a vague shadow in a white room.
Harry shuddered and forced that image from his mind.
Whatever that was, it wasn't worthy.
Harry looked deeper into the mist. A shape that looked like Mrs Weasley waved at him. Darker shadows appeared to advance on her and Harry almost jumped out of the boat to help her.
That thought appeared to motivate the boat again.
Snape finished his conversation with a lobster, saying, "No, Mother, of course I wouldn't," and they were on their way at full speed again.
*
The small boat bumped into the wooden jetty. It looked absolutely identical to the jetty they had just left from. Indeed, Dumbledore had admitted it was the very same one. The only difference being, this one was in a different space and time.
At the time, Harry hadn't believed Dumbledore and spend almost an entire day trying to prove this was the same island. It was the same; identical, save for a few minor things.
They walked up the path to Dumbledore's cabin.
He called it his cabin, but it was actually a small but comfortable grass roofed stone cottage that was set down to avoid the worst of the winter gales.
Harry had smirked when Dumbledore declared it was his ambition to retire to this cottage. At the time, Harry could not understand why. There was nothing here but grass and sea birds. It was unplottable and utterly undetectable, so he probably wouldn't have much company either.
Snape dumped his things down and said, "I'll prepare a meal. I need to brief you on what has been happening. Will you get some fresh water from the spring?"
"Sure," said Harry, retrieving the large covered bucket from beside the rudimentary stove.
He knew that Snape was finding it hard to remain civil towards him. There was no point in making things worse by antagonising him.
Harry trudged up the winding path, listening for the spring water.
He paused at the top of the hill. It was misty today, but when it was clear the view would be spectacular. He closed his eyes, remembering and taking in the atmosphere. Everything was alive with ancient magic here.
He looked down at the springs. He was at the highest point on the island and still the water flowed from the rock.
There were actually several grades of water. There was chilled, cold, warm, hot, scalding, soapy and with fabric conditioner. He was certainly on a wizarding island.
He approached the cold water spring and immediately it grew into a small fountain, allowing him to quickly fill his bucket. Even so, he waited for some time. Being a wizarding bucket, it held considerably more than its size would suggest. Indeed, there had been a minor tidal wave when he'd emptied the last dregs out before venturing up the hill.
As he returned down the hill, Harry paused to listen to the sea birds. He had been fascinated by them the last time he was here. Dumbledore had directed him to go and sit at the cliff edge and listen to them. After a while, he realised they were talking and occasionally snippets of wisdom could clearly be heard.
This time it was mostly just a jumble of random chattering, except for just a few words.
"He returns!"
"Has he found the path?"
If he had time, he resolved, he would return to listen properly.
*
Harry delivered the water and was immediately thrown out of the cottage by Snape while he made their meal. He didn't argue, not wanting to antagonise Snape.
Mrs Weasley wanted them to make up their differences.
He wasn't at all sure how realistic that would be, but he would try. Now though, Harry realised that some distance between them would be the best course.
Harry wandered down to the beach.
The tide was in now, and the mist prevented him from seeing more than a few yards out to sea. The tides here didn't appear to follow the normal pattern, in that the high and low tides could occur at widely different times one day to the next.
Dumbledore had smiled when Harry had asked him about it, insisting that there was a pattern, but not the usual one.
"This is a place of contemplation, Harry. The island will present you with things like this to think about. You may or may not find an answer, but I guarantee something else will occur to you while you sit and contemplate. It will come out of the blue, and you'll realise that you perhaps should have been thinking about that all the time."
Harry kicked over a seaweed covered stone standing proud of the beach. The round stone rolled down the beach towards the sea, but in a wide arc. Its momentum appeared to carry it on until it arrived back in precisely the same spot it had been before Harry had kicked it.
Realising the stone had preferred to be where it was, he mumbled an apology and walked on.
Harry's thoughts returned to the house and his grim bedsit in London.
Not exactly to the place, but someone he'd met there a few weeks ago.
Harry had returned late from work and had come in at the same time as some of his fellow tenants and various guests returned with drinks.
As the large group passed, Harry realised that one amongst them wasn't at all happy and really didn't want to be there. He couldn't identity who they were at that point, but growing concerned, he dumped his meagre shopping in his flat and, for the first and last time, gate crashed the party in the rear First Floor flat.
This flat was generally the first choice for parties and social gatherings of the students. Apart from enabling Harry's bedsit to receive the maximum volume of noise, it had access to the rear balcony and fire escape where people like to sit out and chat.
Harry had quickly scanned the occupants of the flats, looking for the original person as well as anyone else who might have thoughts of harmful intentions.
He was relieved to find no one having such thoughts. Everyone just wanted to have some fun.
Harry was at the point of accepting that he might have been mistaken again, when he spied someone outside on the balcony. He ventured out and realised that the girl staring out into the night was the person he'd read earlier.
He took a moment and used his Legilimency skills properly. He saw clear images now.
With the advantage of knowing her thoughts, Harry struck up a conversation with her, and quickly turned to the subject of places they'd rather be and people they'd rather be with.
Before they finished talking, Harry knew she'd resolved to herself to leave, not only the party that evening, but her present circumstances.
He never saw her again, but Harry had been unnerved when, just before leaving, she had quizzed him on the things he himself missed.
Harry realised she wasn't asking questions as such, just telling him what he knew but had refused to admit.
She certainly touched a nerve when she spoke of the people he missed. She was rather specific about one person in particular.
Maybe, he mused, Legilimency wasn't entirely a wizarding thing after all.
*
Dinner at the cottage consisted of a simple shellfish meal. The mussels were a local delicacy, and Harry enjoyed remembering that Dumbledore had prepared the pair of them the same meal when they had come before.
That time, Harry had been a little uncertain of the strange dish. Now he ate with gusto.
He wondered if every wizard who visited had this dish on their first night. Dumbledore had said it was important to live off the land and sea, in order to fully imbibe the magic.
Harry didn't push Snape into talking, although he was bursting to know everything.
Well, almost everything. Some things would be hard to listen to, he suspected.
Snape's first words, however, surprised Harry.
"I'm sure Molly will be alright, at least for the present. She's shown quite a remarkable aptitude for deceit, recently."
Harry nodded.
"I don't know the cause of everything that has happened, but I will try to describe the effects," continued Snape.
"You removed yourself from the wizarding community just after your Graduation, I recall."
Harry nodded slowly, staring into the small flame of the table lantern between them.
"In the weeks that followed, a new Minister of Magic was appointed. Almost days after that, the show trials began."
Harry looked up.
"Who is the new Minister?"
"His name is Stein. He was a very junior member of the Wizengamot, and considered quite an outsider. Most people think that's why he got the job. He was neither associated with the Dark Lord nor the Order."
"Why would association with the Order be a factor?"
"The show trials. Members of the Order of the Phoenix were put on trial."