Harry Potter and the Children of the Clan

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

"He was making funny noises, Professor. I mean, odd kinda funny. Funnier than usual."

"How do you mean usual, Mr. MacTavish?"

"Well, Trevor tends to talk in his sleep, but it doesn't really make any sense."

"And last night was different how?" Harry asked.

"Usually it's just chatter. Last night it sounded like he was hurting or scared, or both. That's when we called for the Prefect."

"I'm glad you did, Angus. Thank you," Harry said.

"Um, oh, yes, sir. You're welcome. Sir, is he going to be alright?" Angus MacTavish asked.

"We all hope so, Angus, but it's a little early to tell. At least he's sleeping calmly now. We'll have to see how he is when he wakes up."

"Yes, sir."

"And Mr. MacTavish, thank you for keeping an eye on the boy. I'd ask that you and your roommates continue to do so."

"That we will, sir."

It had been a long day for Harry. He had been called out of bed at two o'clock in the morning and it was now nearly nine that night. Trevor hadn't fallen into a quiet sleep until just an hour ago. Abagail was sleeping in the bed alongside his. She had made several more attempts at understanding what was going on inside the boy's mind but it was the same jumbled mess that she had encountered the first time. The effort had exhausted her.

To make matters worse, whatever it was that was going on inside Trevor's head, it seemed to be playing out in ancient Gaelic which presented Harry with two problems. The first is that no one was able to decipher what Trevor was actually saying so there were no new puzzle pieces. The second was that the use of the old language was simply raising more questions. Any answers would be slow in coming.

It was another twenty four hours before the boy woke up and he had nothing to tell Harry that was of any help. He remembered nothing of his 'dreams' nor of anything that he might have said. The fact that he had missed nearly two days had him frightened and confused. It also left him seriously fatigued and after finishing a small plate that a house elf had delivered for him, he was asleep again until the next morning.

As serious as the situation was for Harry and the others who were closest to Trevor, the vast majority of the school saw this latest episode as a temporary diversion as they moved headlong towards exams and the House and Quidditch Cups. Gryffindor's second match, this time against Hufflepuff, arrived and with it a serious piece of North Sea weather. James was having his doubts as to whether or not Kai had done him any favors. He was in essence a fourth man on the roster for keeper, but due to the nature of the weather and the likelihood of multiple substitutions he was required to suit up.

James had heard the stories of the matches where Harry had lost his broom to the Whomping Willow or worse yet, the crash into the VIP tower during his seventh year. His luck was holding well into the fifth hour of play, where his only official action was to provide Kai with some help warming up when she was rotated out of the game. He was rather surprised then when the team captain flew by and yelled,

"Potter, you're in. Get up there."

With a shrug he pulled on his goggles, mounted his broom and took to the air. When he got to the goals he waved his teammate toward the sidelines and as they passed he got a good look at just how coated in ice and snow the seventh year was. He thought,

"This is going to get ugly and quick."

As he took position above and behind the central goal he found his biggest challenge was going to keep from getting blown out of position by the heavy wind gusts. It was also impossible to see anything that took place further than a quarter of the way down the pitch. He thought it would be a good idea to drift to his right and a bit forward and just as he assumed his new position a handful of figures emerged out of the heavy, swirling snow with the two in front being Hufflepuff chasers.