The Sugar Quill
Author: Queenie  Story: Fantasy Island  Chapter: Chapter One
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Fantasy Island

Chapter One


            "Harry!  Stay here and watch the luggage while I verify our tickets.  And don't you dare move."

            The black-haired teenager gave an inaudible sigh as he stood by the three suitcases.  His aunt had reluctantly agreed to take him on the trip "Just because you should not be alone in the house."  Right.  He might blow something up.

            Ah well, at least an island vacation had to be some fun…

            "Oy, Harry!"

            He turned.  His friend Ron was running towards him, carrying a large faded suitcase.  "Ron!" Harry exclaimed in disbelief, greeting his friend.  " How… Why…What're you doing here?  Is anyone else with you?"

            "Well," Ron said, sitting opposite Harry, "it's kind of funny actually.  Fred and George entered the family into a Muggle contest, and we won a ticket to this place called Fantasy Island.  Sounds great, right?  Well, notice we won only one ticket.  Mum and Dad couldn't buy another ticket, Mum can't leave us kids on our own, neither Dad nor Percy can leave their job, Fred and George -- who everyone's angry at -- would rather travel together, and Ginny is --" he put on a falsetto voice "-- 'Too young to travel on her own.'  So, by process of elimination, I'm going."

            "Good for you, mate!" Harry nodded, patting his friend on the back.

            "Now, Harry, why are you here?  I thought the Muggles never let you leave the house."

            "Well, Aunt Petunia got one ticket for herself, but the man she bought it from had apparently given her two tickets.  Dudley's going to this place called -- wait, I shouldn't mention it just now -- " he stole a glance towards his aunt, who was waiting in line " and Uncle Vernon's going on a business trip to New York, so she decided to take me."

            The two sat in silence for a minute, when Harry exclaimed, "Oh, yeah!  Any word from Hermione in Bulgaria?  I hear the Bulgarian post office is really strict."

            "Yeah," said Ron, nervously glancing from side to side.  "She's having a good time.  Listen, Harry, there's something I have to tell you about Hermione…"

            "Harry, get over here!" called Aunt Petunia. 
            "I'll tell you later," said Ron hurriedly.

            "Okay.  See you on the plane!"  And Harry hurried off.




            A white-haired man in a black suit was walking down to the dock to await the coming of the plane.  As he strode on the white sands, the sounds of laughter from the people on the beach and in the small drinking stand drifted to him on the breeze.  The heavily forested mountain that dominated the island rose behind the little blue painted hotels.  As the man stepped onto the dock, his black loafers smartly tapping on the wood, a laughing dolphin jumped into the air not too far from where he stood.  He smiled and walked on.  Finally he stopped, a few yards away from where the sea-plane would land. A very pretty woman with brown hair and brown eyes walked up to him. Her lavender sundress waved a little in the breeze as she stood there next to him.  "So, Mr. Rourke," she said, "what's the lineup this week?"

            "A very interesting crew, Ariel," Mr. Rourke replied.  "The short family that's getting off now -- those are the Burnleys.  Mr. Burnley wants to be a knight of the Round Table -- Lancelot, preferably, but any one of them will do.  Mrs. Burnley wants to star in the greatest musical ever performed."  He gave a rather wicked sort of grin. 

Ariel cocked an eyebrow.  "She's never heard of the Ring Cycle, has she?"

            "Nope," replied the man, grinning even wider and wickeder.  "Finally, completing the Burnleys, is young Jake Burnley.  He wants to be the main character in some video game -- Legend of Zelda whatever-you-call-it."  He indicated the three last figures getting off the plane.  "That black-haired boy is Harry Potter."

            "Harry Potter?" Ariel repeated, turning to look at him.  "The Harry Potter?  The Boy Who Lived?"

            "The very same," Mr. Rourke assured her.  "Oddly enough, he wishes he had never defeated the Dark Lord.  The tall, blonde woman is his maternal aunt, Mrs. Petunia Dursley.  Before Harry's mother died, Petunia insulted her sister and the two never spoke again.  She wishes to be reconciled with her sister.  And the tall, red-haired lad is Mr. Ron Weasley.  He feels overshadowed, and wants recognition and adventure."

            By now all six people were on the dock.  Mr. Rourke walked up to them, smiling, and said, "Hello, my fine friends.  I am your host, Mr. Rourke. Welcome to Fantasy Island."




            After being greeted by Mr. Rourke and his pretty assistant, Harry, Petunia, and Ron were given a little tour of their hotel area.  There was a small, thatched bar on the beach not too far from the beautiful hotels.  Ron had a single-bed room all to himself, adjoining Harry and Petunia's room.  He put his suitcase on the floor and then collapsed on the bed, stretching himself out.  At last, he didn't have any brothers or sisters, or anything.  He was on his own.

            "Oh yeah," he said, opening his suitcase and getting out a copy of The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle, "this is the life."  He opened the comic book, and suddenly felt of a pang of -- what?  Loneliness?  He'd never felt lonely in his life, not really -- he'd always known that Fred and George or Ginny or Percy was in the next room if he needed them.  But now… yeah, he was alone.  Closing his comic book, he got up and suddenly noticed a folded sheet of paper on his table.  It read:


As the winner of our exclusive contest, you are entitled to a Special Prize!

 See Mr. Rourke in the lobby for details.

Enjoy your stay on Fantasy Island!

            Shrugging, Ron folded the note in his hand and went down to meet Mr. Rourke.




            "I'm going to get a drink at that little stand we saw," Aunt Petunia had said, leaving Harry alone in the hotel room.  He looked around, enjoying his surroundings.  For a minute he considered visiting Ron but then a small package on the bed caught his eye.  He picked it up and looked at its label.  It read:

For: Mr. H. J. Potter

Room 6


  1. Who opens me shall get what many men desire
  2. Who opens me shall get as much as he deserves
  3. Who opens me shall hazard all he has

Harry cautiously opened the package.  Although expecting a Ring of Doom or something of the like, it turned out to be something quite different -- it looked like a closed compass.  He took it out.  It was rather heavy -- Harry did not know this, but it was made of electrum, a costly mix of gold and silver. Intrigued, the boy took the item onto the balcony, its warning label lying unheeded on the floor.




Petunia sighed as she sat down at the little beach's drinking stand.  She ordered a Planter's Punch and dully watched as the young man behind the counter mixed up her drink.  As he handed it to her, she was aware out of the corner of her vision that a woman about her own age was approaching.  Something about her -- that way she moved, like it would be easier to fly than not -- reminded her of someone.  But who?  Suddenly it hit her.  Of course, Lily.  Petunia had barely thought of her sister in years, but she still remembered exactly what Lily would order if she was at the drinking stand, always the same thing --

"One Shirley Temple with extra maraschino cherries, please."

Petunia started.  That order had just been placed in spoken words.  She looked around her.  The man was handing the woman the Shirley Temple, and she was handing him a three-pound note.  Before Petunia could barely think straight, a lock of dark red hair caught loose from the woman's ponytail and caught in the frame of her sunglasses.  Petunia recognized that exact color of auburn -- that color she'd envied for exactly 20 years, ever since she was a toddler.  The woman was walking away when Petunia came back to her senses, and she got up instinctively to follow her.  However, the young man said, "Ma'am, you've forgotten your purse."  Petunia snapped around for a fraction of a second to grab her purse, but when she turned back, the woman was gone.

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