Blake woke up that night to the noise of muttering in the bed next to him. Blake had half the mind to shake Will silly for waking him up when he remembered that Will wasn’t sleeping next to him. He had asked to sleep on the couch in the family room so that Harry could sleep in a proper bed without risking expose. Harry was the one muttering in his sleep.
Blake turned to his right. Harry was shaking, his face tear streaked, and he kept muttering “No, Sirius!” Blake’s brow furrowed in worry. Did his Grandpa always have dreams like this at his age? His heart went out to Harry. He turned to face the wall, trying to fall back asleep, but now that he had woken up it was near impossible. Even though Harry’s whining and muttering kept Blake awake, for the first time in his life Blake wasn’t instantly annoyed.
Blake put the clock in the feeble sunlight that was coming through the window, and saw that it was only 6:30 am. This was by far the earliest he had woken up that summer.
Harry screamed and sat up, breathing quickly. Blake turned abruptly. “Harry? Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” Harry said in an unusually high voice. He turned away and angrily wiped his eyes, embarrassed and ashamed of himself for crying. Blake didn’t humiliate him by questioning further. He tried to think of ways to make it up to his Grandpa, when his eyes lingered to his Blue Nebula broomstick. A plan started to form in his head.
“Harry?”
“Yeah?” Satisfied that his eyes weren’t red and his face dry, Harry turned to face Blake.
“What would you think of getting some fresh air?” Blake suggested, pulling out his Blue Nebula from the side of his bed.
Harry wasn’t quick enough to hide the eagerness in his face. “How could I? Wouldn’t I get caught?”
“Nah, nobody’s on the local Quidditch field this early in the morning. It’s the crack of dawn,” Blake said, holding the broom out to Harry. “Come on, you know you want to. You haven’t been outside for days.”
Harry barely resisted the temptation to grab the broom. Every fiber in his body wanted desperately to fly a broom again. “What would Gina think of this?”
“Who says Gina has to know?” Blake said. The rush of a challenge was taking over. “You just make sure you’re back soon enough, and nobody will be the wiser. Once the first group of local fliers gets there, you come back. From what future you had told me, you have no problem sneaking around without being noticed.”
Harry had to admit he had a point. He could sneak back into the house even without getting caught, even without his Invisibility Cloak. Not to mention riding on a broom sure beat the possibility of another day hiding in this room.
“Alright,” Harry grabbed the broom from Blake’s hand. Blake grinned.
“Okay, to get to the Quidditch field, you go to the front of the house, go down the left side of the street, turn right at the first road, and it will be at the end of the line of houses. I would guess that you have two hours, give or take, before people start showing up. Then you should head back. Make absolutely certain that you stay a good distance away from other people,” Blake sounded dead serious. “You’re easily recognizable even without your scar. Cut through the woods right behind our house when you come back. I should be outside around then, and I will help you get back in. Got it?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, clutching his broom.
“Sneak through the back door, it should be unlocked,” Blake said. “I’ll cover for you.”
“Thanks,” Harry said. He smiled at Blake, who smiled back, and he headed out the door. He walked quietly through the hall and opened the door in the kitchen silently. He ran to the front of the house. He paused for a moment, looking at the house.
It looked as invited for outside as it did within. It gave a feeling of warmth, from its copper colored door, the tan colored bricks, to the large window that showed the family room interior.
In fact, in Harry’s opinion, the whole village looked warm. The houses varied in size, from one to three stories, but all looking welcoming. Large, green lawns, most with gardens, were found everywhere. Trees were numerous, in both front yards and backyards, and several forms of wildlife, both magical and otherwise, could be found flying or running around. Harry realized, with a pang in his heart, that he could have been raised here. Pushing the thought from his mind, Harry turned left and started down the pebble path to the Quidditch field.
Harry was very impressed with the public Quidditch field, although the name was misleading. The ‘field’ was in fact several small fields, each with its own goal hoops, and a standard sized field in the back. Harry ran to the full-size field, the enthusiasm of riding a broom coming back in full measure.
He started to examine Blake’s Blue Nebula. It had a mahogany handle, with finely clipped straws forming an arrow-like appearance. The broom looked very slightly shorter than Harry’s own Firebolt. On the handle was the words Blake’s Blue Nebula. Custom Made. Custom made? What did that mean? Harry wondered how a broomstick could be custom made before finally deciding that it didn’t matter to him as long as the broom still got off the ground. When Harry mounted the broom, he noticed that it perfectly matched his height, and he guessed that’s what was meant by custom made.
He kicked hard off the ground and the wind whipped his bangs off of his face. Harry zoomed around in laps around the field, all worries left on the ground. Harry leaned forward on his broom to go at maximum speed, but it seemed too slow to be going at its fastest. Harry kept leaning forward but it wouldn’t go any faster. Slightly put out, Harry pulled to a stop.
The broom stopped immediately, and Harry was caught so off-guard that he dived forward off the broom. He grabbed for the broom just in time, and dangled one-handed off the broom. Gasping, Harry swung back onto the broom. He sat for a moment, catching his breath and waiting for his heart rate to return to normal.
So that was what they meant by custom made. Blake’s broom could turn on a dime. Too bad Blake forgot to mention that slight detail, Harry thought angrily. As quickly as Harry’s anger at Blake came, it vanished. After all, Blake was the reason he was flying in the first place.
He spent the next hour and a half getting used to the new broom. Once he was confident, he amused himself with racing toward trees and turning just before he hit them. He even started diving, pulling out of the dive inches from the ground at a ninety degree angle.
The sun was up now, and a small group of kids were walking toward the field with brooms on their shoulders. Harry gazed at them from above. They all looked to be about his age. He remembered Blake’s warning that people in this time could recognize him even without the scar. Harry landed, and headed toward the woods so he wouldn’t be noticed, but the kids saw him.
“Hey, you,” a brown-haired boy yelled from several yards away. “We’re thinking of starting a game. Want to join us?”
“Uh, that’s ok,” Harry yelled back, walking away from the group slowly. “I’m finished.” Without another word or a glance at the group, Harry bolted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Come on,” Blake muttered to himself, pacing the backyard. He checked his watch again. Harry had been gone over two hours, and he still wasn’t showing up. Blake was getting apprehensive. That nitwit should’ve realized that it will be that much harder to get him back into the house when everyone was awake, Blake thought.
He didn’t regret letting Harry go. No, he wasn’t going to go that far, although he did wish he had planned it better. He must’ve been really tired if he thought telling Harry to come back before too long would mean he would be back before sunrise. That was like telling a teenager not to stay out too late and expect them back home by 10 pm.
The conversation earlier haunted Blake’s brain. “Once the first group of local fliers gets there, you come back.” What made him think that would be early enough? Sometimes people wouldn’t come to the Quidditch fields until noon, even in the summertime.
“What are you doing?”
Blake jumped at the sound of Gina’s voice. She walked over to him, arms crossed. Blake glowered at her. “What did you do that for? You nearly gave me a heart-attack!”
“Why are you so jumpy?” Gina said with an accusatory tone in her voice. “Waiting for someone?”
“What are you talking about?” Blake stammered. He put his sweaty palms in his jean pockets, trying to look laid back.
“Where should I begin?” Gina circled Blake, like a predator stalking its prey. “As if the fact that you are up an hour before me, certainly a rare thing, isn’t suspicious enough! You are pacing, which you only do when you’re stressed, and you keep glancing at the woods. And your room is locked.” Gina stopped, her emerald green eyes boring holes into Blake’s face. Blake didn’t say anything, or even hold eye contact with Gina, which proved to be a big mistake. Her suspicion only increased.
“What are you hiding?” Gina demanded.
“I’m not hiding anything,” Blake muttered to the ground.
“Do you really think you can pull the wool over my eyes that easily? You’re hiding something, Blake Potter, and I want to know what! Now!”
Blake always admired Gina’s stubbornness, except when it was used against him.
“Who are you waiting for? And why did you lock Harry in your room?”
Giving in, he murmured, “I didn’t lock Harry in the room.”
Gina snorted. “Then why is the room locked?”
Blake gulped. “So you wouldn’t notice Harry isn’t in it.” He waited for the impact of his words to sink in. He didn’t have to wait long.
“You let Harry out of the house?!?” Gina screamed. “Where is he?”
“At the Quidditch field,” Blake blurted.
“He’s flying in broad daylight?” Gina was going hoarse. “Weren’t you the one that wanted to keep this whole thing a secret? We all agreed to keep Harry hidden, but once again you throw caution to the winds. What on earth made you agree to this?”
The silence after Gina’s explosion sounded like the calm after a storm. Blake listened intently, trying to catch any sounds that would mean Grandma was awake, but didn’t hear anything except for a dog barking down the street.
“Gina, you didn’t see Harry this morning. He was having nightmares, about Sirius.”
Gina’s face softened slightly. “His godfather? Are you sure?”
Blake nodded. “He was muttering in his sleep. He screamed when he woke up. It must have been pretty intense. I wanted to make it up to him. And offering him a morning riding his broom seemed right at the time.” Gina didn’t say anything to this, so Blake continued. “We can’t keep him locked up in the house all week. He’s already proven that we can’t keep him in the room.”
Both heard the rustling of leaves behind them. Harry ran out of the woods. “Sorry I took so long. I got….” He saw Gina and stopped. He didn’t even make an effort to hide the broom.
The three of them stood in silence for a while before Gina finally spoke. “You better get inside. Sneak through the window, it’s unlocked.”
Harry gave her a questioning look, but Gina shook her head and looked down. Harry opened the window, put the broomstick inside, crawled in, and shut the window. Gina still didn’t say anything. Her eyes were out of focus as she stared at Ginny’s flower garden without really seeing it.
“I’m not going to say what you did wasn’t risky or stupid,” Gina said quietly, still staring at the violets, “but I guess you had a good reason for it.” She looked into his eyes. “Look, whatever happened to his godfather must be worse than we thought if he’s having such bad nightmares. Please promise you won’t bug him about it.” Blake didn’t say anything. He knew he couldn’t make that promise.
Gina sighed, and headed into the house, closing the door behind her.