Splintered Flames

Chapter 6

Ummm..... Sorry for being MIA. When you finish this chapter I might be forgiven...

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Harry was walking along a mountain road in the cool blue light of dawn. Far below, swathed in mist, was the shadow of a small town. Was the man he sought down there, the man he needed so badly he could think of little else, the man who held the answer, the answer to his problem...?

"Oi, wake up."

I opened my eyes. I was lying again on the camp bed in Ron's dingy attic room. The sun had not yet risen and the room was still shadowy. Pigwidgeon was asleep with his head under his tiny wing.

"Harry was muttering in his sleep."

"Was he?"

"Yeah. 'Gregorovitch.' You kept saying 'Gregorovitch.'"

"Who's Gregorovitch?"

"I dunno, do I? You were the one saying it. And Minnie was shaking so I presume she was also having your dream."

I had a vague idea I had heard the name before, but I could not think where.

"I think Voldemort's looking for him."

"Poor bloke," said Oliver fervently.

Harry sat up, still rubbing his scar, now wide awake. I tried to remember exactly what we had seen in the dream, but all that came back was a mountainous horizon and the outline of the little village cradled in a deep valley.

"I think he's abroad."

"Who, Gregorovitch?"

"Voldemort. I think he's somewhere abroad, looking for Gregorovitch. It didn't look like anywhere in Britain. Minnie?"

"Not anywhere in Britain I recognised."

"You reckon you were seeing into his mind again?"

Ron sounded worried.

"Do me a favor and don't tell Hermione," said Harry. "Although how she expects me to stop seeing stuff in my sleep..."

I gazed up at little Pigwidgeon's cage, thinking...Why was the name "Gregorovitch" familiar?

"I think," he said slowly, "he's got something to do with Quidditch. There's some connection, but I can't I can't think what it is."

"Quidditch?" said Ron. "Sure you're not thinking of Gorgovitch?"

"Who?"

"Dragomir Gorgovitch, Chaser, transferred to the Chudley Cannons for a record fee two years ago. Record holder for most Quaffle drops in a season."

"No," said Harry. "I'm definitely not thinking of Gorgovitch."

"I try not to either," said Ron.

"Well, happy birthday anyway you two." Oliver said with a smile and a punch in the arm.

"Wow, that's right, I forgot! We're seventeen!"

"Oh yeah." I said muttered. "Somehow I thought being seventeen would be much more satisfying."

Harry seized the wand lying beside his camp bed, pointed it at the cluttered desk where he had left his glasses, and said, "Accio Glasses"

"Slick," snorted Ron.

Reveling in the removal of his Trace, Harry sent Ron's possessions flying around the room, causing Pigwidgeon to wake up and flutter excitedly around his cage. Harry also tried tying the laces of his trainers by magic (the resultant knot took several minutes to untie by hand) and, purely for the pleasure of it, turned the orange robes on Ron's Chudley Cannons posters bright blue.