Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: One author to rule them... and it's not me. Her name's JK Rowling and she wrote the original series...

Chapter 11- The Invitation

When Harry woke up at six o'clock on Saturday the twelfth of April he felt as if a burden had been taken off his mind- the NEWTs were over and it was the Easter holidays. The dormitory was quiet as the other boys slept off the strain off the past few months. Harry, accustomed from his days with Dursleys, was an early riser. Not being able to sleep he got up and dressed and went down to the deserted common room.

Through the windows of the common room Harry could see that the weather was good. There was a clear sky with only a few white clouds. A perfect day for quidditch, he thought. He sat down on the window seat and waited for someone else to come down.

The next arrival in the common room was not actually human. It was Hermione's cat, Crookshanks. Crookshanks had not even come from the dormitories, he seemed to have come from the portrait hole, though how an ordinary cat had managed to get through the portrait hole did not cross Harry's mind. Crookshanks was not an ordinary cat. He crept along to Harry and jumped onto his knee. Since Peter Pettigrew had been found and Sirius had been cleared of all his charges Crookshanks had become a model pet. The day when he had jumped on Ron's head when Harry, Ron and Hermione had seen him first was all in the past. It seemed almost providential that Hermione should have chosen the one cat in the world who knew Sirius and Peter were Animagi, to be her pet, Harry thought. After all, how many cats can tell that Pettigrew was bad and Sirius was innocent?

Crookshanks seemed to be able to tell that Harry was slightly suspicious of him, for he tensed up in Harry's lap and his luminous green eyes frowned up at him. Fortunately at that moment someone came into the common room.

"Oh, you've got Crookshanks, Harry," said Hermione as she spied him on the window seat and approached him carrying a large book.

"Good morning, Hermione! Always so cheerful, aren't you? You sound so happy to see me!"

Hermione trilled sarcastically, "Oh what a lovely morning! Harry, I've never been happier in my life before now than to see your handsome face on this glorious morning!"

"No need to over do it. Aren't you glad to have finished your exams, though?"

"Yes, I am. I can't wait for the results though."

"Typical. I'm perfectly happy to wait."

"You'll have done fine. There's no need to worry." So saying she pulled out a very thick book.

Harry groaned, "What's that?"

"Oh, the complete set of plays of Oscar Wilde. They're very funny."

"Better than the book you were reading on the train, I suppose?"

Hermione looked amused, "You remember that? Yes, much better than that stuff by Miss Green."

"Miss Green!" cried Harry jumping up, "Not the Miss Green? You know, Estella!"

"Do you really think so? It seems unlikely, that she should write books to earn a living."

"Well, she's got to get money some how."

"S'pose."

Hermione read Lady Windermere's Fan and Harry looked out of the window until eight o'clock when Ron woke up and they all went for breakfast.

Ron was in a good mood. Such a good mood in fact that he kept whistling the Weird Sisters' new album causing Harry and Hermione to exchange amused glances behind Ron's back. Still, Harry knew what Ron meant.

Every seventh year at breakfast was very happy and it spread onto the sixth years as well. Some Hufflepuffs even started a food fight.

When the owls flew down into the Great Hall three owls approached the Gryffindor table. They landed in front of Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry picked up his letter and looked at it. It was sealed on the outside with a seal of a Dragon. So were Ron and Hermione's. Harry opened his. It seemed to be an invitation.

You are cordially invited to spend a week at Castle Squear in the Yorkshire Pennines in the company of Lord Timothy Eldir and his household.

His Lordship is a friend of the well-known Professor Dumbledore and is most desirous of meeting you and your friends, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger who are likewise invited. He is very eager that you show his Lordship some magic. Activities will be provided every day.

His Lordship's servants will collect you and your friends from the village of Hogsmeade on the fourteenth of April if you wish to come. Send your reply back with your owl as soon as possible.

Yours sincerely, I. M.,

His Lordship's housekeeper

Harry stared at the letter in surprise and then looked across at Ron's, which was exactly the same as his, only addressed to Mr. Ronald Weasley. He assumed Hermione's would be the same as well.

"Well," said Ron eagerly, "this sounds great, doesn't it? Just imagine, we've been invited to stay in some great castle with a famous peer. Ginny will be so jealous!"

"Hold your horses a minute, Ron!" said Hermione sharply, "This all looks very suspicious to me. It says that this Lord Eldir, who sounds about as phoney as you can get, wants us to show him magic. This suggests that he is a muggle. If that is a case, how come he knows about us and is inviting us to stay?"

"Oh, Hermione, you're seeing problems round every corner," sighed Harry. "I agree with Ron- it sounds wonderful. Besides, it says that he is a friend of Dumbledore, he must have heard of us through him."

Hermione didn't seem convinced, "Very obliging of I. M. to give us that information. Also, who nowadays keeps servants? Let's see," she muttered, and taking out her wand, she performed a series of little spells on the manuscript. When she finished she looked up vexed, "I can't see anything wrong with it. It all looks genuine, I'm afraid. The paper was bought in WH Smith, so was the fountain pen it was written with, and so was the ink. It looks very much like I. M. is really a muggle, and I can't think that Voldemort would employ a muggle, even to trick us."

"Voldemort!" cried Harry in surprise.

"Well, who else would want to lure you out of the castle?" replied Hermione.

"I suppose."

Hermione got up, "Well there is one way to check if this is a fraud or not," and so saying, she picked up her letter and moved over to the teachers' table, where she confronted Professor Dumbledore.

Hermione pointed at the letter and said something. Dumbledore smiled and said something as well. Then Hermione said quite a lot in one breath and Dumbledore frowned. He replied in quite a good deal of detail it seemed. Hermione nodded and said something and Dumbledore laughed. Then she returned to the table.

"Well," she said with a smile, "Dumbledore was expecting this invitation apparently. Lord Eldir is his friend and a muggle who loves the idea of magic. He is a perfectly genuine old man and would like to meet real witches and wizards. He has a massive old castle in Yorkshire and it actually sounds quite interesting. There's a large, old library, Dumbledore said." Hermione looked as if she was starting to be won over to the idea.

"Has Dumbledore been there himself?" asked Harry.

"No, I don't think so. Eldir has told him a lot about its history though. I look forward to hearing some of it myself."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and grinned.

"What about You-Know-Who?" asked Ron suddenly.

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore said that his spies hadn't been told of any plans to get hold of Harry. In fact, he told them that finding his daughter was more important than getting rid of Harry Potter at the moment. We should have no trouble with Voldemort, I hope."

To Castle Squear, therefore, they were to go.

Harry, Ron and Hermione left for Hogsmeade early on Wednesday morning. The story they had told the others was that they were going to see an aunt of Hermione's. Hermione hadn't wanted to lie, but as Harry had no relatives except the Dursleys and Ron's family was too well known to be suitable, she had to be the one with the phoney relations.

Outside the Three Broomsticks a large black, shiny Rolls Royce was waiting, much to the astonishment of Madame Rosmerta. A handsome driver who looked about as trustworthy as James Bond was seated at the wheel. When they approached he got out of the car and asked if they were Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. Harry answered in the affirmative, and the driver loaded their trunks into the large boot and Ron, Harry and Hermione (in that order) scrambled into the back; Harry clutching Hedwig in her cage and Ron holding Pig's cage. Crookshanks jumped in after Hermione and they were off.

The driver drove very fast especially round corners causing Harry to fall onto Hermione if they turned left and Ron if they turned right. Harry soon began to feel rather sick. The car lurched up hills and down them again for hours, twisting through narrow lanes. Ron, who wasn't as used to car travel as Harry and Hermione, was soon clutching onto the handgrip as if his life was at stake if he let go.

Eventually they arrived at a small pub in a Yorkshire village in the Pennines. They passed into a coach yard and the car stopped. They tumbled out into a healthy country wind. Harry, feeling slightly wobbly, followed the driver out of the yard. The pub was facing the road, and beyond the road were the Pennines. Harry gasped at the wild beauty of them. Hills seemed to go on forever, their summits hidden in very low grey cloud. Their slopes were populated with nothing but pine forests or bare scrub land. Sheep and stone walls were dotted over them. Nothing else seemed to be alive, though Harry could see the occasional car moving along on the opposite hill and every now and then he could see a lonely farmhouse. The road they were travelling along was overlooking a valley with a reservoir in the bottom of it. Little white horses decorated its surface. Harry took a deep breath of cold air.

"Yes, it's beautiful, isn't it?" commented Hermione suddenly at his elbow. "I love Yorkshire. My aunt Grace lives in York and we go to see her sometimes."

"So you do have relations in Yorkshire!" Harry replied glancing down at her. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright. A couple of strands of brown hair were blown across her face. It occurred to him then that Hermione was actually rather pretty. The outdoors suits her, he thought. She blushed a bit at his admiring gaze.

"Come on, you two, I'm hungry," interrupted Ron, "and I think the 'Gun Inn' looks a good place to eat. I've just gone to look at the menu while you two were admiring the view. They've got steak and kidney pie, a roast, fish and chips..."

Hermione blushed even more and they went in.

While eating treacle steamed puddings the driver told them that from this stage they would continue in a horse drawn carriage as there was not a suitable road from Denby Dale (where they were then). This surprised Harry a lot. "We're really cut off then," he said.

"Oh yes, there isn't another house for miles," replied the driver and he smiled.

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together, "Does this castle have running water and electricity?"

Ron looked at her in horror.

"There is a reservoir near by from which we get our water, but there isn't any electricity. But surely, Miss, you can use magic to get warmth and light?" he asked, smug that Hermione hadn't thought of that.

Hermione bit her lip angrily and Harry asked, "Are we allowed to do magic?"

"Yes, I asked Dumbledore and he got us permission from Miss Goldfinger."

"Good old Marisa Goldfinger!" cried Ron. "Fudge would never have let us. I say, you know Percy? How he was about Mr. Crouch?"

They nodded and groaned. "Don't remind me," Harry said rolling his eyes.

"Well, he met her at a dinner party last summer and he's been raving about her ever since. It's 'Marisa this, Marisa that, Marisa says' etcetera. Fred and George tease him about being in love with her, but I dunno if he really is." Ron trailed off.

After their meal they found a black carriage in the yard with two bay horses at the front of it and the red dragon crest on the sides. It all looked as if it had walked straight out of a period drama. The driver of the Rolls Royce climbed onto the box and Harry, Ron and Hermione climbed inside. It smelt slightly of mouldy hay. Their trunks were on the roof and the animals waiting inside. The driver lashed out with his whip and the carriage jerked into motion causing Harry and Ron to fall backwards and Hermione, who had the bad luck to be facing backwards, to fall forwards, almost into Harry's lap.

The carriage jolted out of the coach yard and onto the road, earning many surprised glances from the drivers of speeding cars as they shot past the slow moving horse drawn vehicle. It didn't stay like this for long though. Soon they turned off the main road and onto a small track that twisted steeply up hill. Hermione felt herself once more thrown into Harry's lap.

The world was truly deserted now. There were no roads now, or farmhouses. It was too bleak. Only heather and pine trees and the occasional sheep were visible. Every now and then they passed a ravine filled with a rushing mountain stream, or a stony path disappearing steeply off into the menacing, dark woods.

"It's The Little White Horse country," commented Hermione, gazing out of the window.

They continued in this way for about half an hour until they turned off the track again onto an even narrower, stony lane leading upwards through the pines. It became dark. Hermione had a continuous frown on her face and even Ron was looking slightly worried.

Suddenly they broke through the trees and saw, positioned actually in a mountain it seemed, a large stone castle. It was made out of yellowish stone and Hermione was heard to mutter, "Victorian gothic."

The walls were littered with grotesque gargoyles and there was even one above the portico as they passed into the walled courtyard. The carriage stopped and Harry, Hermione and Ron climbed out. It was cold and the wind whistled, trapped, round the yard. Crookshanks huddled close to Hermione, the wind blowing his fur the wrong way. The horses snorted and stamped as the driver took down their trunks from the roof of the coach. Then he moved towards the great stone door of the castle and pulled a bell pull twice. He remounted the carriage and drove it away round to the corner, presumably to put the horses away.

Harry, Ron and Hermione waited shivering in the shelter of the door for some minutes. Then there was the sound of bolts being with drawn back and the door creaked open. Standing in the doorway was a girl of about Harry's age. She had a thin, ferrety pale face and cold grey eyes, as stony as the castle. She had silvery, blond hair in ringlets. She was wearing an old fashioned, long black dress with a tight waist. Her grey eyes stared at them expressionlessly for about thirty seconds, then she said without emotion, "Welcome to Castle Squear, Harry Potter."

They entered the hall and the door clanged shut behind them. The girl faced them and said, "I regret to inform you that Lord Eldir is on business in France. He was called away very urgently yesterday morning and was unable to stay. He was very sorry. I will be looking after you until he returns. I'll show you to your rooms now."

And abruptly she turned away without letting her guests answer and walked up the stairs to the upstairs of the castle. They went into a long, cold, stone flagged corridor. Double doors were at the end of it. "That's the library," said the girl.

She approached a door. "Here is your room, Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter, you are in the next one and Miss Granger, the far end one, near the library. I shall call you when dinner is ready." She turned to go but Ron stopped her.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? What the hell is going on?"

"My name is Irene, you have no need of anything else. I run this establishment."

"But you're only about sixteen! What game are you playing?!" burst out Ron.

"My age is hardly important to you, Mr. Weasley," she said in final sort of way and left with quick decisive steps down the corridor.

They all entered Harry's room, which was the largest, though still very cold. There were doors into Ron and Hermione's rooms. They sat down by a large hearth and Hermione lit a fire with her wand. A bit of warmth began to creep back into the room.

"What a detestable girl!" Ron opened the conversation.

"Maybe she'll improve when we know her better," replied Harry doubtfully.

"No she won't! I can't stand her!"

Hermione said quickly, "Well, we're stuck with her until this Lord Eldir returns from France. It must have been very urgent business that meant that he had to leave the day before his guests should arrive. I'm beginning to wonder if he actually exists."

"Rot, of course he exists. He's Dumbledore's friend."

"You put a lot of trust in Dumbledore," said Hermione.

"That reminds me," said Ron, "I promised mum I'd owl her when we got here."

He rummaged in his trunk until he found a spare piece of parchment and a quill. Then he wrote,

Dear Mum,

We have arrived safely. It is very cold. Harry and Hermione are all right. Lord Eldir is in France on business and we're stuck with his horrible servant, Irene Somebody. How is Percy? Have you heard from Charlie and Maria at all?

See you, love Ron.

"Who's Maria?" asked Hermione.

"Charlie's Romanian wife. He married her in the summer. She's really nice."

Hermione stared at him. She had not known this. Charlie was the first Weasley to be married. Bill merely had affairs and Percy was too deep in his work to get married (at least to anyone who was anything less than a workaholic like him). Fred and George weren't married either, though George seemed to still have a soft spot for his old girlfriend Katie Bell.

"Don't you think we should send an owl to Dumbledore as well?" asked Harry.

"Good point." Ron added a P.S.

P.S. Will you owl Dumbledore to tell him we've arrived as well.

Then he attached it to Pig's legs and threw him out of the window. They played exploding snap with Harry's cards until Irene was heard knocking at the door to tell them that supper was ready. They followed her downstairs and into the old dining room. It was large and gloomy and reminded Hermione strangely of the old place she had explored uninvited in Greece in the summer holidays.

They sat down at a long table and Irene served them good, home made food. There was onion soup for starters, poached salmon and boiled potatoes for the main course and apple pie and custard for pudding. Irene was obviously a very good cook. She stood and watched them eating, effectively blocking any conversation. Eventually Ron asked her, "What are we going to do here? In your letter you said that activities will be provided. What are they?"

"Tomorrow we will go walking and the day after that, riding."

"Horse-riding?" exclaimed Hermione, looking uncomfortable.

"Yes," replied Irene.

"What's wrong? Don't you like riding?" asked Harry.

Hermione looked very embarrassed. Eventually she confessed, "The only time I've been riding was on a donkey on Blackpool beach when I was seven. I fell off."

Ron grinned, "Poor Hermione! Anyway, you rode the hippogriff with Harry in your third year. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Hermione shuddered, "Yes it was. It was worse. If Harry hadn't been there to hold on to, I don't know what I would have done. I really don't like riding."

"I've never been. I think it sounds great," Ron sighed wistfully.

Harry's experiences of horses were not very pleasant. He remembered Dudley had played horses with him. That being, Harry had been the horse, and Dudley had ridden him. He had done it very realistically too, including spurs. Harry had a lot of sympathy with the horses and not much with the riders. He had ridden a hippogriff in third year twice. That had been quite a sickening feeling, but it wasn't very bad.

At this rate Ron was the only one looking for riding.

The next day Harry, Ron, Hermione and Irene went walking. The hills were steep and the weather was blustery and cold. By the time they had returned in the evening they were glad to let Irene prepare a hot meal for them all.

Irene as usual did not say much, and what she did say was brusque and to the point. Harry was tired and did not say much either. Ron however was excited and asked Irene many questions about what they were doing the next day, i.e. riding, which she was clearly bored with answering. Hermione was reading at table, but no one seemed to care. They went to bed, Hermione complaining that she had almost finished her last book. ("What?! You brought about ten and it's only the first day!" cried Ron in disbelief.)

When Hermione awoke in her four poster the next morning the first thing she realised was that she was supposedly going riding that day. After having dressed she knocked at Harry's door. He was sitting on his bed attempting to brush his hair.

"Are you looking forward to going riding?" she asked, coming to the point immediately.

Harry grimaced, either from the thought of trusting his life with a horse, or because his brush had caught in a snag in his messy hair, "Not a bit. You?"

Hermione shook her head, "I really don't want to do it. However I really can't not go because a: that would make me look like a spoilsport and b: I couldn't stay behind on my own."

"I'll stay here with you," suggested Harry, brightening up.

"But Ron? Alone with Irene? He really is annoyed by her. Anyway, we can ask him what he thinks. Maybe he won't mind."

They found Ron awake reading a book on horse care that he had found in the library. He seemed a little bothered that Harry and Hermione were intending to stay behind and leave him to Irene's mercy.

Eventually Harry decided that he was going to give it a try after all, and begged Hermione to go as well. She gave in reluctantly in the end.

After breakfast Irene took them out into the courtyard. Four horses were tied up there: a dark palomino pony with a long mane, a fat black mare, a very large heavy dun and a skittery skewbald which was rolling its eyes.

She pointed at the dun and said to Ron, "That's Fudge. You can get on him." She guided Ron onto Fudge's back while he sniggered at the name. However he put the wrong foot in the stirrup and therefore ended up facing the tail and had to get off again. If Harry hadn't been so apprehensive about the fact he was riding the slightly dodgy looking skewbald, he would have found it quite funny.

Once Ron was secured on Fudge, Irene helped Harry onto his horse, Firefly and Hermione onto the black mare, Lottie.

Hermione was sitting on her horse looking pale and extremely tense. She was staring straight ahead of her, and totally ignored Harry's "Good Luck!"

Irene mounted her pony side-saddle and told them to follow her. Ron immediately kicked his horse into a slow walk behind her. Firefly needed no kicking, but skittered off unbidden behind Fudge. Lottie and Hermione did not move. Harry tugged at his reins and Firefly halted reluctantly.

"What's up?" asked Harry anxiously.

"I'm not doing this," she whispered through clenched teeth.

"Umm..." Harry glanced round at where Ron and Irene were disappearing down a stony track between the pine trees, "It's not that bad, is it?"

"Yes, it is!" Hermione looked wildly round then slid rapidly off her horse. "I'm staying here. Don't you follow me. I'll be fine. I'll read or something."

Harry would have protested, but Firefly took that opportunity to catch up with his friends. His last glimpse over his shoulder was Hermione gingerly tying Lottie to a metal ring in the wall.

She walked up to the door and used the Alohomora spell to open it. She made her way up to her room through the silent castle, collected her book and went to sit by the fire in Harry's room, which was more comfortable. She sighed. Of course she couldn't do everything, but maybe she should have gone with them... Oh well. She started to read. Time passed and the pages left in Hermione's last book decreased. Suddenly there was a tapping at the window. Hermione, deep in her book did not register it until a few seconds after it had been repeated twice. Then she jumped up like she had been bitten and turned to face the window. Someone was sitting on a broomstick outside tapping on the pane. Someone in a black cloak. Hermione's finger's tightened on her wand.

Estella Green was outside the window.