Trinity; Chapter 1 – Evasive Flying
A/N: Hello! Welcome to my fourth attempt at Harry Potter Fan Fiction. The basic line of thought in this tale is that Harry decides not to trust the Advance Guard in Chapter Three of the Order of the Phoenix and instead decides to strike out and do something on his own terms for once. He will be independent, he will be somewhat powerful, he will be trying to avoid any plans Dumbledore has for him…it should be interesting. This chapter is only about 2,300 words, following chapters will be 4000-6000 words long. I hope you enjoy reading this…
If Harry had ever flown in an aeroplane, he would know what it's like to fly over a city at night. A patchwork of orangey gold lights, glowing at him from the darkness below, like an illuminated spider web. Lights from the streetlamps, lights from headlamps and light from an innumerable number of Muggle homes shining into the clear August night. Except, Harry wasn't in a tube of aluminium flying at four-hundred miles an hour at thirty-five thousand feet. He was cruising at sixty miles an hour at one thousand five hundred feet on a broomstick; the Firebolt his godfather had bought for him during his third year at Hogwarts. It had a top speed of well over a hundred and fifty miles an hour. The only reason he was cruising at such a slow speed was because his trunk was hanging from his broom, secured by a series of leather straps. Also, he wasn't flying alone, but in the company of at least a dozen members of the Order of the Phoenix flying in a tight formation. Destination unknown. Or at least it was to Harry, but then to Harry, almost any place would be better than what amounted to twenty-three hour solitary confinement at number four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, courtesy of the Dursleys. Or was it?
Harry didn't know where he was going. Harry was in the company of people he really didn't know. All on the orders of a man who hardly knew him but did things for the 'greater good'. All of this in a world invisible to Muggles and a magical government who would do anything to conceal the truth from its citizens. When he thought about it, Harry almost could compare the Ministry of Magic to the likes of the Government of North Korea or any other totalitarian state under a 'repressive dictator' – where the population are only told what they need to know, when they need to know it. Harry had developed this comparison through listening to the Six O'Clock news from the flowerbed under the Dursleys' living room window.
This train of thought was subconsciously running through his mind as he slowly froze to his broom after Mad-Eye Moody decided to double back once again somewhere over Hampton Court Palace. These people had left him in the dark for four weeks whilst the wizarding world seemed to roll on with daily ministrations in the Daily Prophet of how the world was functioning perfectly normally and how any notion that a certain Dark Wizard had returned was merely a rumour spread by Dumbledore, Potter and Friends. They'd even gone as far as questioning Harry's mental state – "Does Harry Potter have PTSD?" was the title of an article in the Prophet the previous week. The article when on to explain that PTSD or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was, defining it as "a Muggle mind ailment…no cure…victims often hallucinate…reliving previous experiences in their dreams". The paper was bold enough to suggest that the death of Harry's parents had led to these visions of You-Know-Who. The article was a hatchet job, reusing many quotes from Malfoy and Company and repainting them to portray him as mentally unstable with a talent for telling tales. Harry tore the paper up in disgust.
But back to tonight, why rescue him tonight? Four days after the Dementor attack, particularly after telling him not to leave home and not to surrender his wand to any Ministry officials? If they wanted to rescue him, why not do it as soon as possible? But of course, Dumbledore had his reasons. These were the very same reasons for allowing Voldemort to possess Quirell and then teach Defence Against the Dark Arts in his first year, for allowing the spirit of said Dark Lord to re-enter the castle the following year, letting the Dementors of Azkaban guard the school and nearly kiss an innocent man who just happened to be his godfather. (Who was obviously innocent of any crime all along, yet still managed to get twelve years in Azkaban without trial. Even then Dumbledore neglected to intervene.). And then to top it all, Dumbledore managed to bring all kinds of deadly magical creatures to a school full of children for an adult contest of strength and despite 'adequate precautions' Harry still managed to get entered for a contest he wanted nothing to do with whilst a polyjuiced Death Eater masqueraded as Moody and proceeded to teach Defence using all manner of dark curses. Harry was seriously wondering whether his school was a place of learning or an intricate death trap.
This wasn't to mention the fact that after he so dutifully alerted the wizarding world to the rebirth of Voldemort, he had been cut off by said world almost all together.
Then Harry had his moment of enlightenment. Conjecture; I get hurt whenever Dumbledore has 'his reasons' or a 'plan'. Supposition; Dumbledore and his plans are both very stupid and I would be better off not complying with them or him. Result; what am I doing freezing on a broom when I could be in a nice warm bed, say at the Leaky Cauldron. Action; get out of the air and away from these people carrying out Dumbledore's plan.
With a loud laugh, Harry turned his broomstick into a dive and the benefits of having a Firebolt over a Comet Two-Sixty began to show. Even with the added luggage, Harry was doing well over a hundred miles an hour in a steep dive down to a hundred feet before he pulled up. The Advance Guard of Order members didn't know what to think. They had no contingency plan for this – it was unthinkable that Harry would try to escape.
"He's gone Alastor, if we were a little faster we could have caught him but any spells we could have cast would have done more damage than good in these conditions," said Remus Lupin wearily after they had combed the sky in all directions for two and a half miles. Although he didn't show it, inside he was smirking. Harry's escape was stupid but brilliant, and it had worked. If, it was stupid but it worked then by that logic it wasn't stupid. Had they been in a different situation, Remus would have applauded his ingenuity.
"Damn!" the elderly auror exclaimed, "Even my eye isn't picking anything up."
"Do we go after him?" asked Tonks breathlessly.
"If he's gone, it means he doesn't want to be found for some reason. He can look after himself, we might as well wait in the warm at Grimmauld Place." Remus explained.
"Agreed, there's nothing to be done here." Kingsley added his opinion to the mix.
"There's no point searching any longer, Potter's a competent flier, he could be miles away by now. Let's go and report back, we'll start looking in likely places tomorrow morning."
As it happened, Harry wasn't that far away, speeding at treetop height across Muggle London still under the disillusionment charm Moody had cast upon him earlier that evening. Once the adrenaline rush of his escape had subsided, Harry took a moment to assess where he actually was. Currently he was flying north-west and approaching the bright orange ribbon that was the M4 motorway. This was according to his relative position to Polaris, the North Star. He could see the bright white lights of Heathrow Airport to the west and the glow of Central London to the east. With this in mind, he turned east and headed into the city.
When the Advance Guard returned, minus Harry there was uproar and Dumbledore was immediately sent for.
"He gave us the slip Albus, a superb display of evasive flying!" Moody explained.
"Does anyone have any idea where Harry could have gone? It is imperative that we find him before someone else does." Dumbledore asked the occupants of number twelve Grimmauld Place who had all gathered in the kitchen.
"Could he have gone to the Burrow?" Molly suggested.
"Impossible, he wouldn't know where to look at night." Fred refuted his mother.
"Hogwarts?"
"Too far."
"Godric's Hollow?"
"He's never been there before. And I doubt he knows where it is."
"Diagon Alley?"
"It's where he went after he escaped the Dursleys two years ago. And he's going to have to go into Gringotts soon, to make a withdrawal." Dumbledore surmised. "I suggest we set up watch on the Alley from tomorrow, for now get some sleep, it's been a long night."
After an hour of careful navigation, including several minutes spent studying the public tourist maps seen on every street corner of every major city, and careful analysis of over a dozen road signs. Harry found himself level with Lord Nelson himself at the top of his column in Trafalgar Square. It was certainly an interesting perspective, although not one that Harry enjoyed for long. Even in the early hours of the morning, London is still a hive of activity. Harry dived down to street level to get his bearings before zooming back up to roof top level on the final stretch of his journey along the Charing Cross Road.
He landed neatly opposite the Leaky Cauldron before crossing the road and entering the warm pub. The bar was nearly empty, a single cloaked figure drinking in a shady corner and a witch snoring at one of the tables. Tom was still at the bar, wiping glasses for the next day's trade. At first because of the disillusionment charm the elderly barman didn't see him.
"Good evening Tom." Harry called.
"Whose there?" replied the startled barman.
"It's Harry Potter, I'm under a disillusionment charm."
"One moment Mr Potter, let me see you properly." Tom exclaimed, surprised that one of his most famous customers was here in the early hours of the morning. He muttered something before Harry felt the charm lifting. "Good evening Mr Potter, what can I do for you?"
"A room please Tom."
"Of course Mr Potter. May I be right to assume that you do not wish it known that you are here?" Tom took pride in his discretion, being the gatekeeper between two worlds meant that he came across all sorts of people every day, from the Minister of Magic to the cruellest of Death Eaters. You-Know-Who could order a drink at the bar and he wouldn't tell a soul.
"You would be right. How much for the room?" Harry was digging in his trunk for his money bag.
"Don't worry about that Mr Potter, just settle your account before you leave. Will you be requiring breakfast?"
"As early as possible please."
"If you would just sign here Mr Potter." Tom held out a ledger for Harry to sign. "And your key, room 17, second floor, first on the left."
"Could you help me with my trunk?" With a flick of his wand, Tom vanished the trunk.
"It will be waiting in your room."
"Thank you. Although I'm surprised that you haven't asked me why I'm here."
"I don't want to know Mr Potter. Good night."
"Good night."
Harry climbed the stairs to his room to find Hedwig perched on top of a chair hooting softly. The snowy owl tilted her head to indicated three pieces of parchment lying on the bed.
The first one he looked at was from Sirius:
Harry,
Where are you? Write back to me immediately. Everyone is really worried. Get in touch!
Padfoot
PS: Moody compliments your evasive flying.
The second was a bit longer and from Hermione:
Harry
How could you be so stupid? Running off like that. Where are you? Dumbledore and the others are planning to search for you tomorrow. I'm sorry but I can't say any more than that. Tell us where you are. Some of us are getting worried.
Hermione
Surprisingly, the third one was in Dumbledore's recognisably thin loopy handwriting:
Dear Harry,
I urge you to contact us immediately as we currently have no idea where you are. It is imperative we find you before the Ministry of Magic or the Death Eaters do. We are trying to protect you. And while Alastor Moody and I complement you in your skilful flying, we do not condone your actions. I repeat once again, contact one of us or Miss Granger or the Weasleys or your godfather at once.
Yours in urgency,
Professor Albus Dumbledore
Harry debated whether it was worth replying but he scribbled out a few lines on a piece of parchment.
If I haven't been found then maybe it's my intention that none of you find me. For once I have no intention in following a hair-brained scheme that will result in my death or injury. I will get in contact when I am ready. Please reassure my friends and my godfather that I am safe.
HP.
He then gave it to Hedwig to give to Dumbledore with instructions; "Be as fast as possible, don't wait for a reply." Hedwig then set out into the night.
Harry then thoughts then turned to sleep, which enveloped him from the second his head hit the pillow.
A/N: Well, let me know what you think. Chapters 2 and 3 have already been written so give your feedback now and you might influence some change! Those who follow my other story; "Inheritance" will recognise some OC's from that story. Let me know your opinion; be it a comment, a criticism, a correction or a praise, leave a review. Follow and favourite. Chapter 2 to come soon.