Secrets and Lies
Chapter 1: Saving Harry
Buzzzzz!
My alarm clock went off, officially waking me up from the best dream ever. I hit the snooze and rolled over.
Buzzzzz!
Again, I smacked the snooze.
Buzzzzz!
Ugh! What time is it? I looked at the clock, 6:55 am. It was way to early to even be alive. I hit snooze again.
Buzzzzz!
Fine, I'll get up. It was 7 am and I rubbed my eyes as I left my cozy bed and walked zombie-like into the hallway, or what used to be the hallway...I froze. What was going on! I run back into my room and look at my phone. January 1st, 2011, 7:02 am.
Why was my alarm going off? It was a Saturday morning. It only goes off on weekdays, for school. Why did it go off now? And what happened to my hallway?
I quick threw on clothes and grabbed a bag, shoving some stuff into it that I might need: clothes, my phone, my wallet, etc. Then, I slowly approached my bedroom door once again, all traces of tiredness disappearing.
I walked outside, into the coolness of nighttime. The sounds hit me first. Horns, cars, people. Where was I? I looked around, far from home is the most I could gather. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. I turned around and opened my door again, but instead of my messy room, I found the main floor of an apartment building. Shit. I'm stuck here.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Okay, what do I do? First, I should find out where I am. I walk down the steps and into the crowd. Following the rush, I managed to find a newspaper stand. I picked one up and looked it over. Finally, after noticing the paper was not from America, I found where the date was hidden. July 1st, 1997. Great. I figured I was maybe drugged and kidnaped and taken to a place far from home and could find my way back. At least that would be plausible. But I'm in the past. That's nice.
I dug around in my wallet to find a dollar to pay the man. He smiled at me creepily and I thought pedofile to myself. I shuddered when I got far enough away. I found a small place to sit on the stairs of a building. I read over the paper once again and the title catches my eye. London Times. Oh, so not only am I in the past, but I'm half way around the world in London...wait. London? What was the year again? 1997...
No, its too good to be true. I'm not really by Harry Potter's house. No, he's a character in a book anyway. But, it couldn't hurt to check.
I jumped up and onto a bus. "Where to Miss?"
"Little Whinging." I told him, smiling sweetly. He nodded to me and I sat. I looked around, surprised by the silence, until I realized I was the only one on this bus...and that it was a triple decker purple bus with a chandelier. "Excuse me, is this the Knight Bus?"
"Of course, wha other bus would't be?"
"I'm not sure." I meekly replied. The Knight Bus? But that only gets witches and wizards, if they have a wand. Why was it picking me up? Thankfully it was late enough at night that no one noticed me get on. At least I think it was at night. "Sir, what time is it?"
"Why, it's 3 o'clock in tha mornin'."
"Oh. Why did you pick me up?"
He looked at me oddly. "My ye are a questionable little thing, ain't ya. Well, we came and got ye cause ya are a witch in distress."
"I didn't wave a wand. How did you know I am a witch?"
He smiled at me. "It's in ye blood dearie." And he turned back to the driver to talk, leaving me to myself.
I'm a witch? Since when? I was about to ask another question but the bus lurched to a very ungraceful stop. I barely managed to stop my face from bouncing off the pole in front of me. "Little Whinging." He announced and helped me off. I stood transfixed as I watched the bus disappear from sight. Holy shit!
Okay, I glanced nervously around me. What do I do now? I can't just go up to the Dursley residence and knock. Or could I? That could actually work...
I walk towards Privet Drive and found house number 4. Taking a deep breath, I approached the house and knocked, loudly. I laughed quietly as I heard a thump and some angry grumbling from upstairs. A few seconds later, the door opened to me.
"Who are you and what do you want? It's 3 bloody o'clock in the morning." A red faced Vernon Dursley greeted me.
"I'm sorry, I just arrived in London and I came to get Harry Potter. I didn't realize the time. Is he here?" I asked, kindly.
"Harry? There's no one by that name that lives here."
"Don't lie to me Mr. Dursley. I know Harry is upstairs. I need him, now. You can either get him for me, or I'll get him myself."
He looked at me, taken aback by my forwardness. I marched into the house and went straight up the stairs, ignoring Vernon behind me. I went to the second bedroom and threw open the door. Inside, I noticed a man, who obviously was Harry Potter, sprawled out on the tiny bed. His messy black hair was even more disorderly and his glasses were on his night stand. "Harry Potter." I said, waking him up. He jumped when he saw me and reached over to put on his glasses.
"Who're you?" He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Names are not important. What is important is you, coming with me. If you do, lives will be saved. If you don't, many will die. The choice is yours, but I will only offer once."
"People will...what are you talking about? Who will die?"
I sighed and rolled my eyes. "That, too, is irrelevant. A life is a life, is it not?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Get your stuff, let's go." I began grabbing everything in sight and tossing it into his trunk. He clambered out of bed and threw on his clothes, helping me pack. "Don't worry Harry, I'm on your side."
"How can I be sure?" He had his wand trained on my throat, right below my jaw. I stood up slowly, looking at him with annoyance.
"If I was against you why would I have woken you up? I could have slit your throat in your bed, or something. Why would I get you to come with me?"
"You want to take me to Vol-"
I cut him off. "Don't say the name. Not here. Names are powerful."
"You sound like Dumbledore."
I grinned. "Yeah...and I could have petrified you to take you to him. I wouldn't have to get you to come willingly."
I watched his eyes as he considered my words. His wand arm went slack and dropped to side. "I guess."
"Trust me."
"How, I don't even know who you are."
"Like I said, it's not important." I motioned for him to pick up his trunk. He did and followed me out of the house, not once looking back.