Draco Dormiens

Chapter Ten: Epicyclical Elaborations of Sorcery

Unconscious, Harry fell, and as he fell, he dreamed. In his dream, he was at a garden-party at the Weasleys. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were there, and so were all the kids: Charlie, looking slightly burnt as usual, and Bill with Fleur Delacour, who he'd been dating for about a year now. Fred and George and Ron were playing Exploding Snap with Ginny at a green wicker table in the corner.

Draco Malfoy was there as well, standing under the shade of a spreading oak tree, wearing tennis whites and looking very pleased with himself. He was talking to a slender girl in a yellow dress and an enormous white hat.

Am I dead? Harry wondered. Is this Heaven? And if this is Heaven, why is Malfoy here?

The girl who had been talking to Draco suddenly turned, and Harry saw that it was Hermione. She came towards him across the grass, swinging a tennis racket. He recognized the yellow dress she was wearing from a summer holiday he'd spent with her and her parents. He'd always liked it." Hi, Harry!" she called.

"Hermione," he said, coming towards her. "I think I'm falling."

"For me?" she said, looking thrilled.

"No, I mean, literally falling," he said. "Like, rushing through the air falling. In fact, I feel kind of sick."

The thrilled look was wiped off her face, to be replaced with a look of fury. "You are such an idiot, Harry Potter," she said, raised her arm, and hit him hard in the head with her tennis racket.

Harry yelled with pain. "What'd you do that for?" he shouted. "Honestly!"

"Hey!" said a voice in his ear—a voice that wasn't Hermione's. "Harry! Settle down!"

"Maybe the fall unhinged his mind," said another, worried voice.

"Harry?" said the first voice again, "Harry, come on, wake up," and this time Harry knew who it was. He opened his eyes and stared.

He was lying in the back seat of a car and Ron Weasley was crouched over him, looking very pale but grinning like a madman. George was in the driver's seat, and Fred was sitting next to him. Both of them had turned around in their seats to goggle at him, which might have been a problem if the car had been moving, but it wasn't because the car was just hanging there.

In midair.

Harry sat bolt upright. "What – what?" he stammered. "How? You? Here? Flying car?"

"That's right," agreed George. "Us. Here. Flying car."

"He seems to have an excellent grasp of the essentials, doesn't he?" observed Fred.

Harry tried again. "How did you –?"

"We caught you while you were falling," explained George enthusiastically. "It was the coolest thing ever."

"Good thing Dad upgraded to a convertible," added Ron.

"And I fixed your arm," put in Fred, twirling his wand like a baton. "No problem."

"But what are you doing here?" said Harry in amazement. "Don't tell me you were taking your dad's car for a midnight spin and you just happened to spot me toppling over a cliff."

"Not hardly," said Ron. "As to that..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, which he threw in Harry's lap. "I was going to be really pissed off at you," said Ron, "but since you've just fallen off a massive cliff, I'll give you a break."

Harry unfolded the paper wonderingly. It was a note, addressed to HARRY POTTER, and he had to scan it twice before the contents sank in. "It's the ransom note," he said, amazed. "The one Wormtail sent to me at school, telling me they had Sirius here." He looked at Ron in wonder. "How did you get hold of it?"