FicWad

CHAPTER ONE: THE AIRBOY WHO LIVED

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of the Airworld of the Humanworld, of number two, Nestland Flyway, were humans, normal humans, who had long ago rejected the idea that they were thus, as they were now the so called human aired or airmen — a name given to them by those of the wizarding world, though they themselves were neither wizard nor witch. This as such because they lived in a small community, which was secretly a wizarding community in this human world, and an aerowizarding community of aerowizards and aerowitches. In this community lived other such aired or airmen as they, as they were given this name by the true aired or airmen of the airworld — the aerowizard world, for the sole reason that they were aware of the aerowizards and aerowitches of the aerowizard world who were part of the wider wizarding world — as these ones were human relatives of theirs. They were thus not named as such because they were aerowizards and aerowitches, for they were not, nor neither had none wizardiness in them. In this community they generally took care of these minor aerowizard and aerowitch relatives of theirs till when they left for their true world — the aerowizarding world of the wizarding world.

This community, like most other communities of the airmen of the Airworld of the Humanworld, was an airland AKA aeroland — a land which consisted of winged and wingless lands, islands, isles, and islets hanging and suspended on the air, and either moving or unmoving. Most of these airlands consisted of gathered and grouped forested communities with very long and large trees and tree neighbourhoods, which had big, broad, thick, and strong branches and boughs which all entangled one with the other; and within the trees’ grand canopies were nested neighbourhoods of wooden, square, rectangular or circular nest-shaped houses where the human airmen as the Dursleys lived, and which had a pair of wings on each side, and also had double doors on their roofs and on the floors which served as double entries and exits from the houses. The Dursleys’ tree neighbourhood contained seven nests including theirs, but currently, only the Dursleys lived in the newly founded neighbourhood whose other six nests were still empty of occupants.

In this community also, Mr. Dursley was an aviocar driver, as he drove an aviocar — a sort of magical bird-shaped car. He was a slightly thick and tall and swift man, with long arms and long legs. Mrs. Dursley was tall too, and thin and long-membered also. The Dursleys had twin children, a boy and a girl called Dudley and Dudleya, whom they loved with all of their heart.

Another boy lived with the Dursleys, and he was the reason why they lived in this wizarding community. His name was Harry Potter, Harry Potter of Air as the aerowizarding community commonly called him, and he was the son of Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley’s sister, whom upon discovering her wizarding and aerowizarding nature, moved to the aerowizarding world of the wizarding world to live there, and after got married to Mr. Potter with whom she had the child Harry Potter of Air who now lived with them.

But who was truly this Harry Potter of Air who was the present reason why the Dursleys lived in this wizarding community?

Harry Potter of Air was an air element being — an air-elementaler AKA aeroelementaler, who was from the air element — Airia, an element of airy and aircraft; and its air world — AeroWizardia, the aerowizard world of aerowizardry and aerowitchcraft, of which Harry Potter was also an air wizard being — an air-wizard AKA aerowizard. This air element was one of the elements of the element world known as the Elemental World — Elementia, a world of elementry and elementcraft, who had several elements in respect of and representing its elements; so as its air world which was one of the worlds of the elemental wizard world known as the Wizarding and Witchcrafting World — Wizardia and Witchcraftia, a world of wizardry and witchcraft, who had several worlds in respect of and representing its elemental wizarding and witchcrafting worlds.

Airian of the air and its aerowizardian and aerowitchcraftian world was located in the East of the Elemental world and its Wizarding and Witchcrafting world. Elementia of elements and of elementalers, and its Wizardia of worlds and of wizards, was an alternative world, which was an alternative to the Earth of humans.

Harry Potter of Air as such was an elementaler of Elementia and a wizard of Wizardia, who lived in the humans’ world of Earth in his human form, though far from the humans who were not similar to him.

But how come that Harry Potter of Air, a non-normal human and an aerowizard of the aerowizarding world, did end in the lives of the Dursleys; and which had the Dursleys, normal humans of the human world, live forth as airmen as they lived with wizards and witches of a wizarding community in an aerowizarding community of aerowizards and aerowitches?

Before the arrival of Harry Potter of Air in the lives of the Dursleys, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley had been living for a couple of months in the aerowizarding community, and this had come to be so, when the two loving sisters, Mrs. Dursley and Mrs. Potter, had both gotten married at the same period, and gotten pregnant at the same time, and Mrs. Potter had suggested to Mrs. Dursley that she and her husband move to the secret aerowizarding community where they could easily and quite often see each other without worries about secrecy and discretion — which was something they couldn’t easily do in the human community, and where their forthcoming children could also easily see each other — it was easier for a human to live in the wizarding, than for a wizard to live in the human world where many laws about the usage and practice of magic, wizardry and witchcraft hindered the easy and normal life and living conditions, as Mrs. Potter had argued to justify her point, and which the reticent Dursleys had after agree to — and thus the Dursleys now living in the aerowizarding community, which had been a bizarre experience at first, but which had become a pleasant and enjoyable strangeness, and after an admiration and appreciation of all things magical and wizarding at last — as also Mr. Dursley who had been an aircraft pilot now became a personal aviocar driver in this new wizarding life.

Our story starts thus, when Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, fully living in the aerowizarding and aerowitchcrafting community, woke up one early morning; and there was nothing about the windy atmosphere, and cloudy and anomaly strange bird-filled sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country.

Mr. Dursley chanted as he geared up for work, hurrying as he did not want to be late in picking the Potters at the aviostation. He had tried to have them yesterday night about their travel schedule and couldn’t get them, and he thought it better to be early at the aviostation. Mrs. Dursley chatted happily, as she cleaned a wailing Dudley, about the coming of the Potters and their son Harry, which will be the first time the two couples will be meeting each other after the birth of their children which they shall present to each other.

None of them took notice of the large flocks of birds flutter past the window, for it was but normal in this community to see them fill and fly the skies, but unusual in that they were more numerous today than they had ever being, and consisted of many breeds of birds from the regular and usual breeds to the unusual and rarely seen ones.

At eight thirty, Mr. Dursley picked up his wallet, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and kiss Dudley and Dudleya good-bye. “Loving littlies,” chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the nest, walked the tree’s branchy courtyard to his aviocar whose wings were raised up, stopped before it and spoke, “ouverite te,” which was the ‘open’ spell-word he had invented to command the aviocar to open up after he had been symbiosed to it, and the aviocar’s side door rose up as a wing, and Mr. Dursley entered it, sat on the driver’s seat located on the fore-belly of the aviocar and facing the skull-shaped dashboard, and took hold with both hands of the brain-shaped steering wheel on the centre of the dashboard, and spoke again, “demarro et roulo”, and the aviocar started in a bird cry, the wings stretched inward and outward, upward and downward, and flapped as the aviocar pulled away and soared out of number two’s drive, and up to the branches and boughs of his tree’s canopy, and out of the canopy, and away from their airland.

Mr. Dursley rode the aviocar to the aeroway still not taking notice of the unusual flocks of birds fly past, concentrated on getting to the Potters — thinking of the appropriate way to thank them for letting him, Mrs. Dursley, and little Dudley and Dudleya move on and settle in the aerowizarding, which he hadn’t yet properly done. It was on the corner of the aerial street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a bird reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn’t realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a snowy, white bird, flightless, and flapping her wings on the corner of Nestland Flyway, but there wasn’t a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the bird. It stared back. But he thought thrillingly again that he was in the wizarding and all impossible and unimaginable were possible here.

As Mr. Dursley flew around the corner and along the aerial road, he watched the bird in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Nestland Flyway — no, looking at the sign. This didn’t puzzle him but thrilled him once more to see a bird reading a map or sign — an impossibility in the human world. Mr. Dursley called himself back and put the bird out of his mind. As he rode toward town he brought himself back to thinking of the Potters, as he passed by the numerous winged and wingless, and moving and unmoving aero-lands, aero-islands, aero-isles, and aero-islets.

But on the edge of the very vast aero-island that served as the town in which he was heading into, the Potters were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic congestion of the myriad of flying and floating winged, feathered, winged-and-feathered, and non-winged-and-non-feathered aerovehicles — consisting of the aerial aerovehicles and aeravehicles, the birded aviovehicles and orniovehicles, the winged alaovehicles and pterovehicles, the feathered plumovehicles and poupoulovehicles, and the other flying volovehicles and petovehicles as he had studied them all and chosen for himself an aviovehicle; all waiting to enter the extremely vast canopy ahead, he couldn’t help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in strange cloaks. Mr. Dursley knew they were the true airmen, or the aeromen — the aerowizards and aerowitches, and the winged, feathered, winged-and-feathered and non-winged-and-non-feathered bunch of them; and he was surprised to see them in so great numbers as he wondered on what occasion he might have missed which brought them in so great numbers, and had them dressed in these strange cloaks. He was after all an aviocar driver, and this got him to know in advance all the latest happenings and occurrences in this wizarding as he got from the talks, chats, and gossips from fellow aviocar drivers and passengers — human or aerowizard.

Mr. Dursley watched them as he loved seeing them in their wizarding clothes — fancy cloaks and clothes did these aerowizards wore which he hadn’t ever seen. He supposed this was some out-of-the-ordinary wizarding new fashion. He slightly slid his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these aerowizards and aerowitches standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was happy to see that a couple of them were of his age and were with their children; wow, that man had to be closer to his age and his toddler son whose hand he was holding had to be Dudley’s elder by some months, and both were wearing a diamond-white cloak! How it struck him! And then it struck Mr. Dursley again that this was probably some wizarding festivity — these people were obviously feasting on something . . . yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on, and he flew into the canopy, flew all along the tangled streets and roads, and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived at the aerostation, entered it, and turned and took the tangled avioways and ornithoways to its aviostation and ornithostation, his mind back on the Potters.

Mr. Dursley arrived the aviostation, parked his aviocar alongside others, got out of it and walked to the white building behind and entered it as it was crowded as usual with humans and aerowizards, and almost all of them strangely dressed too. Within too, he saw the usual birds, the messenger birds, but today there were also the atypical birds, all soaring, swooping, and flying past all about the place — some were carrying parcels, packets, packages and messages which they delivered to those intended to, while the others were flying off with what things they had to deliver.

Some people were pointing and gazing open-mouthed as flock after flock sped all about and all over the place — the humans as he they were mostly. Most of them had rarely seen these types of birds, even here in the wizarding. Mr. Dursley proceeded forth to locate the Potters whom he believed had already arrived. He walked to the main waiting room first trying to see if they had already come and were waiting for him, but he saw none of them as he walked from one waiting room to the other. Then he tried the arrivers’ stands and seats, and still saw not the Potters. Good God! Mr. Dursley thought as the place all over was crowded with aerowizards and aerowitches who were numerous today than he had ever seen, as he found it difficult to navigate about and around as they were all crowding and chaotic. He eyed them cheerfully as he walked on. He didn’t know why, but they made him happy. He passed bunches of them who were conversing joyfully and jubilantly too, and he could see them either tying or tucking messages or parcels on their birds, or untying them from the birds and scrambling to opening them. It was after passing them that he clearly got some words of what they were saying.

“The Potters, that’s it, that’s what I heard!”

“Yes it’s them, yes it’s their son, Harry of Air!”

Mr. Dursley stopped. He had just heard them saying ‘Potter’ and ‘Harry’ in the same conversation.

He then turned to see them hold up their glasses and say in jovial voices: “To Harry Potter of Air — the airboy who lived!”

Mr. Dursley perplexed looked at the conversers wondering if they were talking about the Potters who where his family, thinking that it must obviously be the case, and that they might be acquaintances of the Potters, and the Potters might be with them and be somewhere near. And wait, what did they mean by ‘To Harry Potter of Air — the airboy who lived!’ This had him more puzzled, and he then walked to them as he had to assure himself at all costs.

“Hello sir!” He spoke to the elderly man of them, a tall man with average white wings in glittering gray cloak, as he gave him his hand.

“Hello. Hello.” The man answered jovially as his face split into a wide smile, as his comrades smile widely too. “My dear sir, we should all rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!”

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle as all his fellows joined themselves to the hug.

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot as he was been hugged by complete strangers, though he however put it aside for the happiness the wizards were having today, though he didn’t yet know the real reason of it. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was, but he put it aside.

Then they all untangled themselves one by one from the hug, and Mr. Dursley feeling squeezed but nonetheless uncaring, addressed the man. “Sir, I heard you speak about the Potters . . .”

“Yes, yes!” The old man happily said. “The Potters!” he exclaimed. “Yes the Potters. What a brave people they are. What a brave deed they have done for us wizards and you Muggles alike.” He said holding and shaking Mr. Dursley tightly on the spot. “I hope they are alright.” He said this time with an air of worry.

Mr. Dursley who kept getting confused, and not understanding, and wondering if they were talking about the same Potters asked for assurance. “Sir, are you talking about the Potters, Lily and James Potter whose son is Harry Potter?”

“Yes!” the old man said as regained his happiness. “Yes, of course! I am talking about Lily and James Potter, parents of Harry Potter of Air. Which other Potters could be possibly spoken about of today?”

Mr. Dursley sensed and uneasiness getting hold of him, as he thought about what the old man said earlier about the Potters and about hoping they were alright. He looked a bit around to see if he might spot the Potters, but then with the crowds moving all about . . . well. He turned to the man and anxiously asked. “What about them? What is this brave deed they have done? What do you mean hoping they are alright? Where are they? Hearing you talk about them I thought they were with you?”

“Well Mister, they aren’t with me, and why will they be with me?” The elderly man spoke eyeing Mr. Dursley. “They aren’t here, and wouldn’t be anywhere of all places except at their place, that at least I’m sure of that.” He said, and peered at Mr. Dursley again nodding. “Well, I can see you Muggles aren’t yet getting what has really happened. You should know that You-Know-Who went to the Potters’ place last night to kill them, and one thing that emerged from that is that the terrible You-Know-Who simply disappeared, and no one knows exactly how and what really happened. We are all celebrating the disappearance of You-Know-Who after all the terrific things he has done, and we just all hope nothing serious has happened to the Potters and their son.”

“Oh!” Was all that Mr. Dursley could think of saying, as this information totally took him.

“Yes Mister.” The man jovially said as his wings fluttered and flew him after his fellows who were flying away towards oncomers.

Standing rooted on the spot again and confounded than ever, Mr. Dursley then thought of how yesterday, he and Mrs. Dursley had tried in vain to reach the Potters about their journey to their home. But they couldn’t because they were apparently in some . . . ‘fight’, and with a certain . . . ‘You-Know-Who’, and who was this person You-Know-Who who seemed feared by these aerowizards? What did he want to the Potters? Wait, were they even really talking about the same Potters? His own Potters? No, he wasn’t sure. But then, why not they? How many same people could be called Lily and James Potter who had a son called Harry Potter, Harry Potter of Air? If they were then talking about the same Potters, were the Potters then safe after what he had just heard concerning them?

Mr. Dursley didn’t understand anything of it all as fear started flooding him. What should he do? If clearly they were talking about the same Potters, then there was no chance of they being here, as they wouldn’t have surely made the journey to them.

Mr. Dursley then saw the elderly aerowizard flying back towards him with an inquiring look.

“Hey Mister!” The aerowizard called out to him. “I heard you say you thought they were with me? Who are you? Are you Muggle a fellow of theirs? Did you come to collect them?” He spoke this last scrutinizing Mr. Dursley.

“I am . . .” Mr. Dursley lost his words. Despite the multitude of questions he wanted to ask this aerowizard about what had really happened to the Potters, and if they were being safe, and if someone amongst their kind was up to them, he believed he wouldn’t have reliable information from him as he would simply delay him. He then thought that as it was evident that the Potters couldn’t have come and wouldn’t be here, and as he threw a last glance all about the aviostation with a desperation to see them, and seeing nothing of them, he then thought he better left for home to see Mrs. Dursley and tell her all about it, and so they could see what they could do to contact the aerowizarding authorities to tell them more about it, and see if they could give them information about the Potters.

Mr. Dursley retreated and walked pass the aerowizard who called out to him, but Mr. Dursley ignored him for time was of the utmost urgent to him.

As he walked by, he found it a lot harder to concentrate on the crowds and their various activities and entertainment. Out of the building, he hurried to his aviocar, and still so worried and rattled, he set off for home, trying not to think of worst things, as he never loved them, because he knew they led to no better things.

As he swooped down to the driveway of number two, the first thing he saw — and it slightly softened his mood — was the snowy bird he’d spotted earlier on. It was now perching on one of his tree’s branch. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

“Hey!” said Mr. Dursley amiably. “Hey ho!”

The bird didn’t move, but just silently stared at him. Birds’ behaviour of the wizarding world! thought Mr. Dursley as he wondered if it wasn’t as sapient and sentient as humans. Pulling himself together, he let himself into the house, keen to tell everything to his wife.

Mrs. Dursley had just nursed Dudley and Dudleya into sleep when Mr. Dursley entered the living room.

“Ah, Vernon! Where are they?” Mrs. Dursley eagerly asked as she looked past him.

“Petunia, I believe they weren’t there.” Mr. Dursley said aghast. “I think they won’t be coming to us any sooner?”

“Why? What do you mean by this Vernon?” Mrs. Dursley asked alarmed by her husband’s behaviour.

“Petunia, I have to tell you something,” Mr. Dursley spoke distressed, as he sat down, “something . . . terrible that I have heard . . ., and that might be related to Lily and James and little Harry . . ., and strange things that I have seen that should confirm this.”

Mrs. Dursley panicky, then listened to the tale of Mr. Dursley who told her about the flocks of all sorts of birds and aerowizards everywhere in unusual clothes and cloaks, and all gathering together and celebrating the disappearance of a certain terrible You-Know-Who, who had disappeared after he had tried to kill the Potters the night before, and which when he enquired to know much about these Potters, were without doubt their own Potters — James, Lily, and Harry, whose fate the aerowizards knew not much about, and were worried about their well-being also.

“Oh Vernon!” Mrs. Dursley exclaimed after Mr. Dursley ended his tale. “What should we do?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know Petunia.” Mr. Dursley said impatiently.

“Shouldn’t we contact any of these aerowizarding authorities?”

“We should, I was just thinking about them. They should be able to give us more information about all of this.”

“Oh, Lily! James, Harry!” Mrs. Dursley said. “What is all these?”

“I will leave immediately then,” said Mr. Dursley heavily. “You should stay at home and look after the children.”

“Ok. Okay.” Mrs. Dursley said flustered.

As Mr. Dursley and Mrs. Dursley spoke in their living room, the bird was still there. Mr. Dursley then remembered it and told Mrs. Dursley about it, and the two went to the living room window and peered down into the front garden. The bird was there. It was staring down Nestland Flyway as though it were waiting for something. They wondered if it could have anything to do with the current situation.

“Vernon, we could try to talk to it.” Mrs. Dursley desperately said. “Maybe it could tell us something about all this?”

“No, I don’t think Petunia, dear.” Mr. Dursley hopelessly said. “I tried to call its attention, it simply stared at me.”

“Oh!” simply said Mrs. Dursley.

They despairingly then left the window as Mr. Dursley went upstairs to the bedroom to prepare himself to the aerowizarding authorities, and Mrs. Dursley took the children to their own bedroom.

The bird on the branch outside was still and staring. It was still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Nestland Flyway. It didn’t so much as flutter when an aviocar door slammed on the next street, nor when two other owls swooped overhead.

However, sooner the bird did stir as it sensed something. On the corner it had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently a vast pair of white wings and a man from whose back the wings protruded, that you’d have thought he’d just popped out of the air. The bird’s tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. The man swooped down and gently landed on the ground. His white wings were wide and his feathers white as they covered his body. An old man he stood, and an aeroelementaler and aerowizard of the airmen being breed. He was tall, thin, and very old, from the white silvery of his hair and beard, which were both long past his waist. He was wearing long robes, a silver-coloured cloak that swept the ground, and silver-coloured high-heeled, buckled boots. His white eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man’s name was Albus Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore of Air.

He then did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the bird, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the bird seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, “I should have known.”

Following him and appearing out of air were a man and a woman, whose wide white wings brought them gracefully to the ground. The two were distinctly humanlike as Dumbledore of Air with wings and feathers also, and were equally birdlike as their bodies were slightly curvy from the front, and their mouths beaky, their lower arms and lower legs scaly, their hands and feet scaly, and their fingers and toes clawed. Husband and wife they were, and not too tall, and adults, and had gray hairs and moustaches and beards. They wore robes and cloaks of matching gray and green colours, and wore gloves and boots which had holes for their clawed fingers and toes. They had big, black, beady eyes, and dense facial hair which seemed so in the other parts of their feathery body. These were the Avibiens — Mister Avion and Mistress Eleanor, who were also aeroelementalers, and an aerowizard and aerowitch, who were of the birdmen being breed.

Seconds later, two pair of white wings appeared also out of air, and the man and woman from whose backs the wings protruded swooped down and softly landed on the ground beside Dumbledore of Air who watched their arrival. Wide white wings did they have too, but their bodies weren’t feathered as Dumbledore of Air’s and the Avibiens, but simply covered in slightly thickly human hairs as they were more humanlike as Dumbledore. They were husband and wife as they stood tall in their middle age, and had white hair and beard for the man, and brown hair for the woman who equally had thick eyelashes. Both wore white-and-black robes and brown-coloured sweeping cloaks, high-heeled buckled boots, and a scarf on the man, and a shawl on the woman. They were also aeroelementalers, and an aerowizard and aerowitch, who were of the wingmen being breed. They were the Alawins — Sire Alain and Siress Liana.

Immediately, a smack sounded, and falling out of the air was another man and woman as they thudded on the ground beside those present. They were all feather-covered, except for their faces and hands and feet. They too were husband and wife, and were slightly tall, with the man taller than the woman and thicker, and were sharply featured, and their brown and black eyes were bright and intensely expressive. They also were in robes, sweeping cloaks, and high-heeled buckled boots. They both had black hair, with the man’s more coal black and short, and the woman’s jet black and curly and long. Aeroelementalers also were they, and an aerowizard and aerowitch who were of the feathermen being breed. The Plumafeas they were — Sir Pius and Madam Plumafea.

Then another swooping sound was heard as fell on the ground two other oncomers, a man and a woman. These ones had neither wings nor feathers as the other aerowizards and aerowitches, as they looked like the true humans of the human world. They however were endowed with the flying ability as they were aeroelementalers and aerowizards of the flymen being breed. They were also spouses, and were as tall as Dumbledore and middle-aged. They had an air of calmness and composure with sparkling stares. The two too were clothed in cloaks and robes and boots all white and gray. The man was auburn haired, the woman was platinum haired; and the former’s beard and moustache were beautifully shaven, while the woman’s eyebrows and eyelashes were thick and thoroughly trimmed. These two were the Voloflys — Master Victor and Mastress Marjorie.

“Mr. and Mrs. Avibien!” Dumbledore of Air acknowledged to the birdlike couple with a bow which they responded with also.

“Mr. and Mrs. Alawin!” To the winged couple who acknowledged back.

“Mr. and Mrs. Plumafea!” He said to the feathered couple who acquiesced.

“Mr. and Mrs. Volofly.” To the wingless and featherless couple who slightly bowed.

There they were, the new arrivers, who remotely resembled humans of this human world, Earth, and were of the elemental wizarding and witchcrafting world’s Airia and AeroWizardia, as Dumbledore of Air turned and addressed to them thus in their order of arrival.

They all represented the main being breeds of the air element beings − aeroelementalers, who were from the air element − Airia, similarly also air wizard beings − aerowizards, from the air world − AeroWizardia.

“And finally Professor McGonagall of Air who is present with us!” Dumbledore of Air added, as he turned to smile at the bird whose beady eyes had been watching the entire scene, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at an average silver winged, and rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the bird had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, and a white-emerald one. Her white-and-black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. “Fancy seeing you all here!”

They all nodded to Professor McGonagall of Air, who returned the nod.

“I thought I’ll be seeing you here alone Albus,” said Professor McGonagall of Air, “but I see you have brought out here our friends also.”

“Well, here we are all.” Dumbledore of Air said as his feathers followed by wings slipped into his skin.

“How did you know it was me as bird?” Professor McGonagall of Air asked Dumbledore of Air.

“My dear Professor, I’ve never seen a bird perch so stiffly.”

“You’d be stiff if you’d been perching on a tree branch,” said Professor McGonagall of Air.

“All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here.”

Professor McGonagall of Air sniffed angrily.

“Oh yes, everyone’s celebrating, all right,” she said impatiently.

“You’d think they’d be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something’s going on.” She jerked her head back at the Dursleys’ living-room window. “Even the Dursleys are already aware of it. ... Well, the humans are not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I’ll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense.”

“You can’t blame them,” said Dumbledore of Air gently. “We’ve had precious little to celebrate for eleven years.”

“I know that,” said Professor McGonagall of Air irritably. “But that’s no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless out on the streets, not even dressed in decent clothes, swapping rumours, celebrating.”

“Well, there is certainly as much to celebrate Minerva!” Sire Alain said in a deep tone.

“And so much shall there be in the coming days.” Siress Liana assured.

“Well, I guess so,” said Professor McGonagall of Air grudgingly.

She then threw sharp, sideways glances at the lot of them, as though hoping they were going to tell her much more immediately, and impatient, she went on. “A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone?”

“It certainly seems so,” said Dumbledore of Air. “We have much to be thankful for.”

“So much than we can think of,” said Mastress Marjorie in a slight shudder.

“Would you all care for a lime lop?” asked Dumbledore of Air.

“A what?” chorused all of them.

“A lime lop. They’re a kind of Muggle sweet I’m rather fond of.”

“No, thank you,” they all said same, as though they didn’t think this was the moment for lime lops.

“As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone —” started Professor McGonagall of Air.

“My dear Professor,” interrupted Dumbledore of Air, “surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this ‘You-Know-Who’ nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort.” They all flinched, but Dumbledore of Air, who was unsticking two lime lops, seemed not to notice. “It all gets so confusing if we keep saying ‘You-Know-Who.’ I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort’s name.”

“We know you haven’t,” said Professor McGonagall of Air, sounding half exasperated, half admiring.

“And you’re different,” added Siress Liana.

“Everyone knows you’re the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of.” Madam Plumafea spoke.

“You all flatter me,” said Dumbledore calmly. “Voldemort had powers I will never have.”

“Only because you’re too — well — noble to use them.” Professor McGonagall of Air said.

“It’s lucky its dark. I haven’t blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs.”

Professor McGonagall of Air shot a sharp look at Dumbledore of Air, and at the lot of them, and said, “the birds and aves are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone’s saying? About why he’s disappeared? About what finally stopped him?”

It seemed that Professor McGonagall of Air had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on the cold, hard branch, for neither as a bird nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever “everyone” was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore of Air and the others told her it was true. Dumbledore of Air, however, was choosing another lime lop and did not answer.

“What they’re saying,” she pressed on, “is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric’s Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they’re — dead.”

Dumbledore of Air bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped and stared at the others whose sombre looks confirmed this — the men stood as ever silent, as Mastress Marjorie stifled a sob, while Madam Plumafea sobbed silently, and Siress Liana wiped her eyes.

“Oh . . . Lily and James . . . Gone . . . I can’t believe it . . . I didn’t want to believe it . . . Oh, Albus . . .”

Dumbledore of Air reached out and patted her on the shoulder. “I know . . . I know . . .” he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall of Air’s voice trembled as she went on. “That’s not all. They’re saying he tried to kill the Potters’ son, Harry of Air. But — he couldn’t. He couldn’t kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they’re saying that when he couldn’t kill Harry Potter of Air, Voldemort’s power somehow broke — and that’s why he’s gone.”

Dumbledore of Air nodded glumly.

“It’s — it’s true?” faltered Professor McGonagall of Air. “After all he’s done . . . all the people he’s killed . . . he couldn’t kill a little boy? It’s just astounding . . . of all the things to stop him . . . but how in the name of heaven did Harry of Air survive?”

“We can only guess,” said Dumbledore of Air. “We may never know.”

Professor McGonagall of Air pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore of Air gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore of Air, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, “Hagrid’s late. I suppose it was he who told you I’d be here, by the way?”

“Yes,” said Professor McGonagall of Air. “And I guess why you’re here,” she said this to Dumbledore of Air, “and why you’re all here of all places,” she said this to the others.

“We’ve come to bring Harry of Air to his aunt and uncle,” said Dumbledore of Air, “they’re the only family he has left now.”

“And we’ve all also come to bring him and live in this neighbourhood with him and the Dursleys,” proclaimed Mastress Marjorie.

“We come thus to tell the Dursleys that we will be living with them and with Harry,” said Madam Plumafea. “We are their new neighbours.”

This totally surprised Professor McGonagall of Air who simply said, “oh!”

“There are seven nests in this new neighbourhood of theirs in which James and Lily installed them in,” Mastress Marjorie said, “and six of them are still empty, and four shall soon be occupied by us.”

“Oh!” exclaimed again Professor McGonagall of Air.

“We would be staying with the Dursleys and Harry till Harry’s tenth birthday at least,” said Siress Liana, “when he will be of an age to leave for the aerowizarding world.”

“Ah!” again Professor McGonagall of Air. “And I suppose this has more to do with Harry Potter of Air?”

“Yes of course, Professor,” said Dumbledore of Air. “It has all to do with him. It’s all about keeping an eager eye on him and watching him as he lives his life.”

“This as much as we don’t truly know what’s gotten with Voldemort,” then spoke Master Victor. “We don’t really know what’s happened to him.”

“We don’t know if he’s disappeared for good, or if he’s disappeared to some place from where he could one day come back and exact vengeance,” said Sir Pius.

“And if that be so,” said Master Victor, “then we all know to whom that vengeance would be directed at first.”

They all stayed silent knowing the answer to this.

“Thus the need to keep a keen eye on Harry Potter of Air and his heritage,” concurred Dumbledore of Air.

“With the most important being about his heritage,” spoke Sire Alain.

“That being the most important,” agreed Dumbledore of Air, as the others conceded.

“An heritage most commonly unknown to the aerowizarding, but to a select few, including us, and which must stay so,” said Master Victor, “and which I’ll remind us all here of what it’s all about, so that we know what all is at stake.”

They all stayed gravely silent as Master Victor spoke, and he continued.

“As we all know, and as we should all have expected it, Harry of Air is now the Guardian of the Gemstone of Air, that is the Air Stone, also known as the Diamondstone — with the guardianship of the Gemstone of Air ever exercised by the Potter family, from which his parents inherited of also, and exercised at their living, and which passes to him as their incumbent heir.”

All stayed in silent acknowledgement.

“The Gemstone of Air, that is also the Air Stone, or the Airer’s Stone, also known as the Diamondstone, is the stone that the Airer, who is the creator of the air element and essence, used to create the Air element. This stone, the Air Stone, sustains the air element, Airia, and also its air world, AeroWizardia, and along with the others, also contributes in sustaining the Elemental World, Elementia, and also its Wizarding and Witchcrafting World, Wizardia and Witchcraftia. It has the ability to revive the air element when this one is exhausting, draining, corrupted, contaminated or in any other way affected or effected.”

“Lord Voldemort, Lord Voldemort of Air, the Evil Lord of Air and the Aero as he is named, I do suspect, does somehow lives; but I mean, lives though doesn’t lives entirely.”

“We believe he is in some state somewhere between life and death, a condition we have no simple words to use to explain what it is truly,” spoke Dumbledore of Air.

“Lord Voldemort of Air as we all know has always wanted to use the revival power of the Air Stone to revive something we know not yet what it is.” Master Victor continued. “For years he has always been trying to have the stone and use it. If he ever succeeded in doing this, that should surely endanger and corrupt the Air Stone; and subsequently the air element and essence, Airia, that is sustaining and maintaining and keeping in existence the air world, AeroWizardia, shall be endangered too.”

“Lord Voldemort of Air, has always tried to have and use the stone, and has always been thwarted by the Guardians of the Gemstone of Air, the Potters, of which James and Lily, last Guardian of the Gemstone of Air, also tried to stop him last night, and also succeeded, but lost their lives in it, murdered by Lord Voldemort of Air as he sought to have the Stone from them.”

“Though Harry of Air’s parents are no longer, Harry of Air already has a year to his life, as with his oneth year anniversary, his generational guardianship awoke up, as the Air Stone had sensed it. It had sensed him and his guardianship blood, the blood from his parents and all the Potters that is flowing in him. I had been one of those who had been called to witness this. Now that the Potters are no more, soon this Air Stone shall now seek a new guardian, its new guardian, and who is Harry Potter of Air. It shall seek him as guardian. Seeking him to swiftly come and claim and guard it. I do not believe in any saying of Lord Voldemort of Air gone forever. I believe that he has just being thwarted and retarded, and he is somewhere seeing himself to come back and wreck more evil. He hasn’t just simply gone like that after all he has done to have the stones. Wherever he is, I think he is seeing himself to one day come back. That is why we must at all costs keep an eye on Harry Potter of Air and help him come to terms with the Air stone when it calls to him. Lord Voldemort of Air wouldn’t leave the Air Stone simply like that. He would come back for it.” Master Victor ended in a sombre note.

“Harry of Air is now the latest Guardian of the Gemstone of Air. He is the new Guardian of the Gemstone of Air, the Air Stone. He is the Defender of the Diamondstone. He is also the new Airer. He is the new Airer, as descendant of the Potter family, from the Potters’ generational guardianship of the Gemstone of Air. This Airer’s Stone is now his to have and to guard.” Sir Pius said.

“This is why we will be living with him from henceforth,” Sire Alain spoke, “because in due time, we will have to tell and explain to him all this. We will live with him here, for Lord Voldemort of Air, wherever he is, should be tirelessly searching for some way to come back.”

Professor McGonagall of Air then spoke. “Where is the Air Stone now?”

The silence deepened as some stares shifted to the Avibiens.

“A Good question it is Professor.” Mister Avion in his deep clucking avian sound then spoke.

“We know not the stone’s whereabouts.” Mistress Eleanor spoke in her girlish avian. “We tried to sense it but failed.”

“We know not where it is, nor what Lily and James made of it as they tried to conceal it from Lord Voldemort of Air,” Mister Avion said. “They are the only ones who know what it is, where it is, and a secret it is which they have taken with them to their graves.”

“What then?” Professor McGonagall of Air asked alarmed.

“Nothing to fret of for the time,” Mistress Eleanor said, “for that is an added reason why we will be living with Harry Potter of Air in his new life, for the stone as said afore shall seek for its new guardian, and we should be there to help Harry of Air listen to the language of the Stone as it searches for him and speaks to him to come and claim it, which once is done, shall have us know about the Stone’s whereabouts. He as guardian will have to hear the Stone speak to him, and he shall have to go after it to take it.”

“Living with him here, all of us as we have pledged it, shall be for his safety and security, and should be difficult for Lord Voldemort to reach him here if he ever tried to do so.” Mister Avion said.

All seemed satisfied as they stared at each other acknowledging.

“But shouldn’t it be safer for you to live with Harry Potter of Air at the true aerowizarding where his safety and security shall be surest?” Professor McGonagall of Air asked. “Here in the humans’ aerowizarding . . . these people shall not know him . . . they shall never understand him! He’ll be famous — a legend — I wouldn’t be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter of Air Day in the future — there will be books written about Harry of Air — every child in our world will know his name!”

“Exactly,” spoke Dumbledore of Air, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. “It would be enough to turn any boy’s head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won’t even remember! Can’t you see how much better off he’ll be, growing up away from all that until he’s ready to take it?”

“Professor, he should be best left to live here.” Mistress Eleanor said.

Professor McGonagall of Air opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, “Yes — yes, you’re right, of course. But how is the boy getting here? Have you already had him with you?” She eyed them one after the other as though she thought one of them might have been having Harry of Air with him.

“Hagrid’s bringing him,” said Dumbledore of Air.

“You think it — wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?” Professor McGonagall of Air asked unbelieving.

“I would trust Hagrid with my life,” said Dumbledore of Air.

“I’m not saying his heart isn’t in the right place,” said Professor McGonagall of Air grudgingly, “but you can’t pretend he’s not careless. He does tend to — what was that?”

A low flapping sound had been heard. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a wide whistle as they both looked up at the sky and a huge sort of cycle — an avicycle — a white, wide, winged and feathered cycle swooped down and stopped before them as its wings stayed up.

If the avicycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked birdlike like the Avibiens, as he was an aerowizard of the birdmen being breed, and had wide and wild-looking, wrecked wings; white and wild-looking, wretched feathers, a big beaky mouth, roughened scales on his lower arms and lower legs, as well as on his huge hands and big and broad feet in their leather see-through boots, and roughened claws on his fingers and toes. He was himself so big to be allowed and so wild — long tangles of bushy white hair and beard hid most of his face. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

“Hagrid,” said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. “At last. And where did you get that avicycle?”

“Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir,” said the giant, climbing carefully off the avicycle as he spoke. “Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I’ve got him, sir.”

“No problems, were there?”

“No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before people started swarmin’ around. He fell asleep as we was flyin’ over Bristol.”

Dumbledore and all the others bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-white hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

“Is that where —?” whispered Professor McGonagall of Air.

“Yes,” said Dumbledore of Air. “He’ll have that scar forever.”

“Couldn’t something be done about it?” Professor McGonagall of Air asked to the whole lot of them.

“We surely can’t do anything,” said Mistress Eleanor.

“Even if we could, we wouldn’t,” said Mister Avion.

“Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Upperground.” Dumbledore of Air said. “Well — give him here, Hagrid — we’d better get this over with.”

Dumbledore of Air took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys’ house, as the others turned to follow him.

“Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?” asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a huge howl.

“Shhh!” hissed Professor McGonagall of Air, “you’ll scare the Muggles!”

“S-s-sorry,” sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. “But I c-c-can’t stand it — Lily an’ James dead — an’ poor little Harry of Air off ter live with Muggles —”

“Yes, yes, it’s all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid,” Professor McGonagall of Air said, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm.

“Well,” said Dumbledore of Air finally, “that’s that. We better go now. Hagrid it’s better you go and join the celebrations.”

“Yeah,” said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, “I’d best get away. G’night sirs, G’night ladies, G’night Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir.”

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the avicycle and kicked it to life; its wings flapped as it rose into the air and off.

Dumbledore of Air stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door with the others directly behind him. As he prepared to knock on the door, the door opened as Mr. Dursley in a hurry came out and nearly bumped onto him, before seizing himself in the last minute and staring at him, and at the bundle in his arms, and at those behind him with an open mouth.