Boy and the Begining

October 4, Tiwi Islands, Northern Australia.- Harry age 12...

After a very long time rowing, much of it Harry would admit he did with magic after about the first hour out and his arms, shoulders, and back began to burn and ache, until he arrived at the most Northerly point of the Tiwi islands.

The Tiwi Islands are part of the most Northerly territories of Australia, Harry’s next destination, and about 80 km to the north of the Australian mainland in the Arafura Sea. The island was mostly populated by the indigenous Tiwi peoples, and was only populated by a few thousand. Harry spent a lengthy time sketching various examples of art, the major economic export of the area. He sometimes would pause in his work to listen to the various artists tell youngsters the history behind the meaning of various totems.

The close relationship that the Tiwi had to birds fascinated Harry, and he found that the longer he stayed, the more his own art work started to reflect that as well. Birds could be real, mythical, or spiritual. Harry’s favorite was hearing a story about an ancestor whose spirit had become a bird (granted there were a lot of those, but it was still entertaining nonetheless).

Harry rather liked that. Given how much he enjoyed flying himself, he wondered if maybe when he died he could turn into a bird to.

With the various stories of mythical birds, Harry also wasn't surprised that he eventually bumped into one. The bird he came across was a large old depressed specimen that looked vaguely like a cross between a vulture and a reptile of some sort. He had found it perched on a branch right above his campsite one morning (1).

The bird wasn’t one of the speaking variety, but it more then made up for it when, upon catching sight of Harry’s attention, gave out the most mournful and disturbing caterwaul he had ever heard. The bird only stopped when Harry, trying to find a way to make it stop the disturbing noise, through a pear at it, which the bird snapped up from the air in its sharp hooked beak, and flew off to enjoy its spoils.

An hour later, Harry was drenched in a rainstorm.

Harry eventually left the island on the next clear day, and hoped he didn’t run across that strange depressed bird ever again.

Ooo ooo ooo

October 9, Humpty Do, Australia...

Harry frowned at the large map hovering before him as he took a long draw on a mango and honey smoothie he had experimented in making.

Harry was currently high up in the clouds, enjoying the cooler temperatures and damp mist from the odd passing clouds as he considered his next destination when flailing arms suddenly filled his vision.

Harry stared, gobsmacked, as a young man with red hair and a lot of freckles floated past him, flailing his arms in a very panicked manner, but was cackling his head off.

The man stopped flailing and giggling when he spotted Harry, his eyes widening in surprise, before he began flailing again when he dissipated into a cloud bank yelping for help.

Harry quickly folded his map away, slip his drink into the cup holder on his belt and swooped upwards, a thousand questions exploding in his head.

He found the man being attacked by a group of rather grumpy birds who didn’t take kindly to having a human suddenly end up in there midst. Harry pulled the man out of the pecking hoard, gave a brief blast of Extreme Explosion, sending them rocketing for about a mile or so, and rather glad that he had forgone his shoes that morning.

When they stopped, Harry examined this unexpected curiosity. The red head looked a bit shocked and dazed from the rocketing journey and height both, but was giggling still.

‘It figures. I come across the first flying person like me, after all this time, and he’s a nutter.’ Harry mentally sighed.

“How did you do that?” the red head gasped/giggled, “I’ve never seen a spell do that before...Did you get stung by a Billywig to?”

Harry didn’t know what a billywig was (2), but he recognized the term ‘spell’ and sure enough, a cursory glance revealed the presence of a wand strapped to the man’s arm. Harry scratched the back of his neck, and asked to be sure, “Your a wizard then?”

The red head giggled but nodded. He looked confused by the question though.

“Of course I am, same as you...say is your broom invisible? Or are you using a local spell I've never heard of?”

Harry huffed a chuckle, “No, I’m not a Wizard, though I reckon whatever I am might be related, in so much as human looking Abnormals can be related to each other I suppose, like Chimps are related to Gorillas, at least that’s what I figure.”

He scratched his nose as the giggling adult looked fascinated by that explanation, “So you have a creature status? Are you a vampire then? No wait, its still sunny out...”

Harry made a mental note about the Vampire comment for the future, and just shrugged, unable to answer. Instead he asked: “Are you in trouble?” and because he wasn’t exactly the most tactful individual sometimes, “because you seem a bit touched in the head, and can you fly like me?”

The red head flailed around a bit as he swung upside down, and gratefully gripped the smaller male’s hands when they were offered.

“No, this isn’t something I normally do unless there’s a broom or a dragon involved. I was helping out at a reserve when I accidentally sat in a nest of Billywigs while taking my lunch break, been floating and high as a kite in more ways then one for days. I’m never eating Fizzy Whizzbee’s again after all this,” a mournful chortle.

“Billywigs? What are those?” Harry asked curiously.

“Their these shiny blue magical bug with wings on their tops that spin around as they fly. Their fast little blighters. Even the most skilled seeker would have a tough time spotting more then one or two in their lives, and that's if they live in the area. Their sting makes its victims float and be giddy. I unfortunately got an arse full of the blighters. I think this is my second day in the air. My boss is not going to be happy.”

Harry felt a wave of disappointment. He had not thought that he felt lacking in any way, having not come across others like himself, but when he suddenly comes across the possibility of it, only to have it dashed...he realized that perhaps him not really knowing that much about himself and others that maybe like him out there somewhere, had affected him more then he had thought.

He sighed, swallowing heavily, and pulled out a rope. He tied one end to the red head’s waist and introduced himself.

“My name’s Harry,” he shook the man’s hand and set about tying the other end around his wrist.

“Oh! Sorry! I’m Charlie, Charlie Weasley, Dragon Tamer.”

Harry began descending, dragging Charlie with him like an awkward man balloon.

“Do you know anyone who you can call to come get you?” Harry asked, “I have some change you can use the pay phone.”

“Oh, those muggle talking machines, no I don’t really know any Muggleborns and Muggle-raised with those tellyphones.”

Harry raised his brow at the rather mangled use of the word telephone. Maybe the fellow was still being affected by those magical bugs?

They arrived at Harry’s camp, and Harry tied Charlie’s line to a sturdy tree trunk as he began searching through his satchel.

Harry let out a satisfactory grunt when he pulled out his last magical peach. He made a mental note to plant another seed about a mile down the road and get more.

He handed the peach up to the red head and commanded him to eat it.

The wizard wrinkled his nose, “But I don’t like peaches,” he giggled as if his fruit preferences were the most amusing joke in the world. Harry rolled his eyes, took out a large shiny knife from his belt, a blade which made Charlie’s eyes widen in alarm, and cut into the plump surface, the juices running down his fingers. He took the reasonable bite sized chunk, and without preamble, took advantage of the man’s gaped mouth to unceremoniously shove the junk into this mouth.

The red head flailed as Harry blocked his nose and mouth, forcing him to swallow. As soon as he did, Harry let him go, and sure enough, the healing factors of the peach kicked in, and he was no longer giggling, though he was still floating.

“What was that for?!” The man shouted, then paused, seeming to realize that he no longer felt giddy, in fact he was right pissed at being force fed. The pissed feeling gave way to astonishment though.

“What...?”

The rest of the fruit was unceremoniously shoved into his hand.

“Eat the rest of it, all of it. It has healing properties. It should help with rest of your side effects.”

Charlie, not looking a gift horse in the mouth, did as the boy commanded and ate the fruit, finding that the more he ate, the more he actually enjoyed himself. When he got to the pit, he frowned. The kid had said that he needed to eat all of it, did he mean the pit to?

He looked up to ask, only to see that the boy was busy with packing up his camp. Shrugging, he swallowed it in one go, used to such methods from the time or two he had to swallow down a bezoar.

Charlie unceremoniously dropped onto his arse, wincing at the brief pain, then relaxing as, still under the effects of the fruit, that injury healed quickly.

He felt himself melt back into the tree he was currently tied to.

“What is this stuff?” Charlie groaned, “I feel spectacular!”

“Magical Peaches,” the boy shrugged, “You can find them between here and China...So...you better now?”

Charlie nodded blissfully, “oh yeah.”

“Oh good then, well...I’m heading off now. There’s an Inn about two miles north of here. I don’t know how you lot get around but I figure since you got your feet now permanently planted on the ground your fine. So...I’m off.”

Charlie didn’t even have a chance to thank the boy before he was staring at empty space as the boy zoomed back up into the sky.

Ooo ooo ooo

Charlie eventually made his way back to the reserve after a few trips with Apparition. He told the story of his encounter with the Billywigs to his boss, received the expected lecture for not watching wear he was sitting, and seemed unsurprised by Charlie’s encounter with someone with a creature status. Australia was rife with many hidden and mysterious communities of magical sentient beings that not even Wizards knew the extent of. The man merely pointed out that he was lucky he had been rescued instead of killed.

Fortunately, he was no longer needed to help cover for the sick crew that had all come down with the Wizard flu a week ago, and was sent back via port key.

Charlie had not been expected back in Romania for another week, so he decided to use the time to visit his family. His mother was ecstatic when he came out of the floo and talked about making him up a special meal just for the occasion.

Ron and Ginny were excited to have their big brother home. Of course, he was regaled with stories about the latest moronic Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, with the addition of a giant Basilisk that had been terrorizing the school, only found out when his baby sister had been possessed and kidnapped by a possessed Diary that had once belonged to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named of all people.

Charlie had nearly had a heart attack at the news, and had hugged his little sister in a rib crushing squeeze. The following meatloaf dinner was an exchange of the details of Ginny's daring rescue by Headmaster Dumbledore with assistance of Moaning Murtle of all ghosts. helped along by a clue that a Muggleborn classmate of Ron's, one of the petrified victims of the giant snake, that the Headmaster had found in the girl's hand.

After that bit of shocking news, Charlie went into detail about his Billywig accident, and brought up the boy who had helped him.

“Goodness! I hope that poor boy had folks near by! You say it looked like he was camping all on his own?” Molly Weasley gasped in dismay when he was done recounting his tale.

Charlie nodded, “I don’t know if he has folks, but he seemed pretty self-sufficient.”

“So those bloody trees have made it all the way to Australia?” Arthur Weasley sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair, “They are making a lot of trouble for the various Wizarding Nations abroad. Its a miracle we haven't seen any in Brittan, thank Merlin.”

“Popping up like juicy dandelions!” Fred enthused.

“- Causing no small amount of chaos!” George agreed with a severe nod.

Both red headed twins smirked devilishly.

Charlie set down his fork, “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Certainly dear, just use the outhouse though," Molly said, beginning to clean the dishes, “the bathroom upstairs has been clogged again! Those pesky lawn gnomes!”

Ron flushed since it was his job this week degnoming the garden.

After tending to his business, Charlie was just closing the door to the outhouse when a rumble in the wooden walls caused him to jump, then he took a step backwards when the shaking grew more severe, then the roof exploding off caused him to yell and leap away, ducking for cover.

His yell caught his family’s attention and the red heads all crowded outside.

Every one stared.

“Oh my!” Molly gasped, a hand going to her mouth.

“Wicked!” Ginny enthused.

“Bloody hell Charlie what did you eat?!” gaped Ron.

“Yesss!” the twins cackled rubbing there hands together gleefully.

“I’ll notify the Ministry,” Arthur groaned resignedly.

Charlie just stared dumbfounded from his still prone position, now being shaded from the sun by the glorious looking large peach tree, plump fruit golden in the sunlight.

Ooo ooo ooo

October 17, Saperella Village, Austrailia...

Harry glowered at the smug face.

“You think that eating a bloke’s breakfast is funny do you?”

The animal let out a bleat, swaggering as its hump swayed side to side, licking the pot that had once held his oatmeal.

Harry spied a nearby group of straggly trees, the interconnected branches forming a natural, though jagged ring.

Harry cracked his knuckles purposefully.

1 hour later...

Benny groaned as he blinked his caked eyes open, smacking his fuzzy tongue with a grimace, and staggered out of the back end of his trunk out behind the Crooked Crocodile bar.

It was a bit late in the morning, though morning was relative when your a career alcoholic.

He let out a content sigh as he lined up his shot against a cracked fence post. He was idling wondering of that sweet young thing...Evangeline? Would be waiting tables later that night. Wednsdays were her shift...or was it Thursdays? He scratched his grizzled balding head. Hell, he had no idea what day it was now.

Then he heard a bleating noise and idly looked off into the distance. A camel rolled past in a giant clear hamster ball (3).

Benny rubbed his eyes, idly wondering if maybe he should take the night off and take his brother up on dinner and an AA meeting. He promptly zipped himself back up and headed for his car.

Ooo ooo ooo

October 19, Sunshine Coast, Australia...

Harry was sitting at a picnic table at one of the many beaches of his current location.

Before him was an innocent looking jar that said Vegemite (4) along the side, a plate, a piece of toast and a spoon. He had heard tourists talking about this. It is reputed to be one of the most popular polarizing condiments for foreigners to come out of Australia. People entertained themselves taste testing it.

He was willing to try most things, he could admit, but something that popular for just how bad it could potentially taste (at least from the perspective of foreigners) did make him nervous. Still, food lover that he was, he felt like he couldn’t leave the country without at least giving this Vegemite a go.

The cashier that had rang up his purchase had rolled her eyes when he had asked about it, “Just don’t do a rookie mistake and eat it with a spoon out of the jar or something. You put it on toast, that's how its supposed to be eaten. I swear I don’t get why its such a big deal for you tourists.”

Harry had taken the sarcastic teenager’s advice and had made himself some toast earlier. Now, he was sitting in the sunshine at the shore of a beautiful beach, the smell of salt water in the air about to meet his yeasty destiny.

Harry wisely decided not to smell it before hand. He’d had enough experience with bad smelling foods in his travels to know that that they could actually taste pretty decent in contrast, such as blue cheese and Jackfruit for example.

He put on a reasonable dollop, curious to note that the consistency and the color reminded him almost of chocolate spread.

He spread on what he thought was the minimum average amount, then picked up the unassuming fair.

His first bite...

He wrinkled his nose. It was surprisingly salty, and though the bread helped, it wasn’t exactly his favorite topping. It wasn’t to his taste, but he supposed it wasn’t as bad as all the hype made it out to be. He had tasted odder in his time, thinking with feeling that 100 year old fermented egg he had tried once, shivering.

After Harry had packed up his picnic sometime later, he used the cover of a nearby ally, he took to the air for his next destination, still idly juggling the Vegemite as he flew high up out of sight, following the coast line.. His mind was considering recipes that Vegemite could be used for.

Meanwhile...

Dolorus Umbridge wrinkled her nose as she surveyed her surroundings.

She had worked hard to become Senior Undersecretary to Minister Fudge, and only her dedication to maintaining her position had encouraged her to come all the way to this foreign country and stay at, the admittedly luxurious, muggle hotel where she was assisting the Minister during the yearly Minister of Magic retreat.

Still, she could have done without the annoying muggle trash littering the otherwise acceptable sandy coastline.

Smirking, the witch pulled out her stubby wand and cast a discreet muggle-repelling charm, smirking when the vermin suddenly realized they had other places to be.

Dolores settled her beach things in a good spot and, eyeing the rather enticing jeweled waters, removed the surang from around her frilly pink bathing suit, the giant kitten print glaring at the empty shore, and practically skipped to the water. She considered her self rather stately most of the time, as was befit of someone in her position, but she did enjoy a good dip from time to time, and with no witnesses around, she could indulge.

Conjuring a bright pink cat shaped floatie, she settled back with a content sigh as she idly paddled in the lovely water.

She was a bit further out then she expected and almost falling asleep when suddenly her pleasant repast was interrupted when a jar of Vegemite suddenly fell from the sky and landed smack in her face. The stunned woman, knocked senseless by the impact, fell off her floatie, and her foot caught the craggy surface of a coral reef as she tried to dazedly right herself.

Unfortunately for the esteemed Undersecretary, her foot caught upon something else craggy, as a rather aggrieved stone fish (5).

Dolores screamed in pain, and began flailing.

Meanwhile a nearby bull-shark, rather peckish and attracted by the scent of the barest hint of blood and Vegemite commingling in the waters, spotted a flailing creature that the shark interpreted as a large pink seal ripe for the plucking and happily helped itself...

Meanwhile up above...

”Whoops!” Harry grumbled when the jar he had been juggling slipped through his fingers, disappearing through the clouds below him. He shrugged at the loss, he hadn’t really been invested anyway, and he had been flying over water, and the beach had looked abandoned when he had flew overhead, so there was no need to fetch it. Well, at least the fish could enjoy it now.