Disclaimer: Do not own it.
Rating: R for language and mild sexual context. May be NC-17 in later chapters.
AN: First of all, I must apologize for my clumsy language. Hope, it will get better as the story goes. Secondly, I'd like to point out that I owe a plot and idea to Miranda Flairgold. Thanks for the inspiration.
Chapter 1. The Breakout
This summer the Dursleys managed to surprise their nephew and behaved themselves. Of course, they didn't turn out suddenly all loving and caring, but Harry was quite content with being ignored. It meant he was left to his own devices. He also could eat whenever he want provided that he cooked for himself, get to keep his belongings in his bedroom and do whatever he wanted in the confines of his small room. Probably, they were seriously terrified by the welcoming committee at Kings Cross Station, and their self-preservation instincts kicked in.
The newly found freedom was deeply welcome. It was something, which he was denied every summer. He was either under the dictatorship of his dear relatives or the patronizing of the slightly annoying friends and Dumbledore.
Speaking of the Headmaster… If Dumbledore knew about the prophecy all along, then why did he not make any move to train him, to prepare him for his fate? From how the things looked right now, he will surely die in the prophesized standoff. Half a century of Voldemort's knowledge and experience against his own unimpressive academic attempts? He wouldn't bet on himself. Granted he was quick on his feet and abnormally lucky, but luck has to run out sooner or later. He was not even close to the evil git's level. He, grudgingly, even admired the brilliant if not a little insane mind of Tom Riddle. The feel of his enemy's magic was thick and suffocating, like a hurricane in the sandy desert. No matter how hard he tried to forget, it was firmly etched in his memories, since the battle in the Ministry.
But it didn't mean that he was prepared to roll over and die, or try to take out the Git on a lone suicide mission. No, the teen planned to disappear for the time being and improve his chances. He wouldn't deny his destiny; he just wasn't ready yet.
Somehow the green-eyed boy didn't think, Dumbledore would agree with his plans. Harry began to realize that in the old man's eyes, he was merely a pawn, a destined saviour, a symbol of light and hope. He was something to show off to the allies, frighten the enemies and be used as an ultimate weapon. Nothing more, nothing less.
Voldemort was on the rise again, and the disappearance of such a precious icon from the public's eye would create chaos and panic in the wizarding world. Harry perfectly understood that but sometime during the fifth year he just stopped caring. Same world deemed him insane, delusional and dangerous. He didn't owe them a thing. Did they even deserve to be saved? Weaklings.
Yes, Harry Potter was feeling extremely selfish and pissed off. Some of it might have been written off as teenage angst, but the larger part was cold and calculative anger.
In the short weeks from his arrival to the Dursley's, he had gone from placing all the faults of the world on his not so broad shoulders to blaming the laughable Order, incompetent Ministry, meddling Dumbledore and, lastly, Voldemort and his merry band of followers. He refrained, however, from taking his anger out on the school peers. They were still just children, and though he was not given a chance to be a child himself, he would not be jealous towards them. Nope, he would not. They just were a tinny-winny bit irritating at times. Hell, he was frustrated with himself, when he sometimes tried to copy that naive and light behaviour, which only landed him in a nasty mess. It was long past time he shed the assumed role. With Sirius dead, his hope for childhood, which was already wavering, was completely lost.
Harry came out of his funk with several conclusions: first, he didn't trust Dumbledore, as the old coot was playing his own game and was not willing to fill the boy-who-lived in on the rules, and said boy wasn't willing to be a mindless pawn anymore. Harry even questioned the validity of the prophecy.
Second, he wouldn't really miss anyone if he decided to break ties. The fairy-tale friendship of the Golden Trio had outgrown itself. Boy, was he tired of Hermione's bossiness and close-minded Ron. Maybe later on their friendship will be reestablished. Of course it will never be the same but change could not always be bad, right? He himself will never be the same, not after losing Sirius and watching Cedric's body crumble on the graveyard's ground. Perhaps, he will miss Remus, as the last link to his parents. But despite the amiable relationship, they were always quite distant.
Harry Potter decided to break free.
Better said than done. Firstly, he had to trick the Order guards and leave the Dursleys; secondly, he had to disguise himself. Thirdly, he had to inquire about his finances, yada, yada... And the last but not the least, he had to decide where to hide and continue his studies at the same time. Durmstrang did not sound that bad, but it has close connections with Britain, as did Beauxbatons. Harry wasn't aware of any other schools, but he was sure that they existed. Come to think of it, under the gentle guidance of Headmaster and the general shitty circumstances of his life, he never found neither will nor time to study the wizarding customs and policies. Now he wanted to curse himself for his own stupidity.
Harry sighed. He was now sitting on the wide windowsill trying to reread his third-year potions textbook. So far he had revised his DADA material and written down all the useful information into a journal, and got on to potions. They actually were not that hard to understand if he paid at least half-mind to the textbook. Snape was not an effective teacher. Hell, he wasn't even a decent one.
Harry cast a glance towards the unofficial guard point across the street. As usual someone was stationed there under the disillusionment charm. According to the noises of stumbling and the sound of crashing dustbins, it was Tonks. The teen rolled his eyes at her clumsiness.
Harry glanced at the beaten clock. Nearly 8 p.m. – the change of guard. Who would it be today? So far only Tonks, Remus, Snape, Jones, and Shackelbolt took turns.
With a loud pop another person appeared. He did not even try to be discreet, no invisibility whatsoever. Tonks let out a frustrated cry "Fletcher!" and quickly disillusioned the man. They immediately started arguing about something. All the while Harry tried hard not to jump around and do a victory dance. Here comes his chance!
Tonks left, and Harry deliberately yawning departed the windowsill. Though his supposed acting skills were probably lost on the drunkard. He turned the lights on and quietly packed the trunk in the back of the room. He decided to leave behind his DADA books as he practically memorized them. Even so, the trunk was heavy.
Harry sighed and tossed aside Dudley's clothes, Hogwarts' uniform, Quidditch Through Ages, almost empty potions kit, and some other random stuff. He also decided to leave the owl's cage behind. Hedwig was now on the way to Ron and Hermione with some pointless letters and will find him later. He finally switched off the lights and tucked a wand in the jeans' pocket. He must definitely buy a new wand holster instead of the lost one. With the invisibility cloak atop the trunk Harry began waiting.
Around 10 p.m. the Dursleys, as the good and righteous family they were, left for bed. Harry waited for another 10 minutes and checked on Dung. Well, the guy seemed to be soundly asleep; he could hear his snoring even from the house. He could not fathom how the Order could leave him on guard duty after what happened last year.
The teen left a note on the kitchen table for the Dursleys which explained that he would be gone for a couple of days, possibly longer, and to show this note to anyone asking about him.
Harry found a key in his uncle's jacket, opened the door and put it back into the pocket.
Hiding under the shimmering cloth of his father's cloak, he left Privet Drive. Thank god for small miracles like that of Mundungus Fletcher.
The teen managed to get on the last bus to the train station and then for the night train to London. The timing was rather close but luck was still on his side.
Now Harry was standing in a rather empty train station hall in the middle of the night, which was frankly speaking, not the best place for lone youngsters. Well, now he can try to catch a cab to the muggle hotel named Winston nearby the Leaky Cauldron. He checked it out on the internet on Dudley's computer, when the Dursleys were on their monthly visit to Aunt Marge. The price was ranging from 20 to 120 pounds per night but he will manage that. He had about 1,5 thousand pounds with him. Not bad for a teenager. Not bad at all.
He had barely exited the station and headed to the cab line when his strategic thoughts were interrupted by not so nice personalities - three guys in the middle of their twenties with the bad guy outlook.
"Hey, kiddo, where're you going?"
'Ok, Harry, stay calm, remember - no magic or the great plan of escape from home prison will be fucked up from the start.'
"You wanted something?"
The boss of the gang produced a sickly grin.
"Why, of course. How 'bout some money you surely have?"
Harry tried to sound bored and angry:
"Do I look like I have a whole trunk of money?" For the first time in his life he thanked the Dursleys for the elephant clothes and shabby trunk.
The guys now really looked at their prey.
"Maybe not," the man had to agree. "Anyway, watcha doing in the middle of the night in this part of town?"
"Got kicked out. My dear relatives have money problems and decided that they cannot afford me under their roof anymore."
Now the brown eyes of the speaker were sparkling with a calculating glint.
"Say... Where are you heading now?"
"Charing Cross Road. My mum's friend lives there. I hoped to stay with her for a couple of days, and then find work and accommodation. At least look for it."
"Hm-m... Alright, kiddo. We can take you there."
"I don't want to be a bother..."
"Cut the crap. I ain't doing it out of the goodness of my heart. I have a job offer for you."
"Oh?"
The guy didn't look like a businessman.
"With your bookish-boy look you could become a good dealer, not so suspicious. And we are currently missing one of the crew."
"Oh," answered Harry intelligently. "What happened to the other one?"
"Prison happened."
"Hm-m..."
"Just think about it. If you won't find any other job to your liking then call this number. I am Satt."
"Sure," Harry accepted the small piece of paper not really knowing what else to do.
"Steve, fetch a car."
"Just a sec," came the reply.
In five minutes Steve arrived on a nice brand-new SUV. Harry suspected they did not own that car. He voiced his opinion.
"Nice catch."
Satt heartily laughed and patted him on the back.
"Quick learner, aren't you, kiddo? Hope, you'll join us."
"I'll think about it."
"Sure you will."
When they neared their destination Harry started frantically looking for any porch without the security system.
"There!" He pointed at an old-looking five-storey house.
"You sure, kiddo? The place looks really shabby."
The boy just shrugged. "Whatever. I won't stay there for long." Actually he wasn't planning to stay there for more than ten minutes. Just to wait till the gang will be gone.
" 'K. What's your name, kiddo?"
"Bolt."
"As in Bald, without hair? Surely you do not look like it..."
"No, Bolt, as in lightning bolt. See?"
Satt stared for some time at the exposed scar.
"Nice. How did you get it?"
Harry laughed. Such carefree attitude was certainly refreshing.
"Oh. Nothing special, I fell on a wooden board. Now I always look where I step."
"Sure you do," grinned Satt. "Must have hurt like a bitch".
"Yeah. Good that I am not afraid of blood." Well, he wasn't, really.
"Yeah, good." Satt grinned again, friendly if a little bit maliciously. "Call when you decide then."
"Alright, see ya, guys, thanks for driving me here."
"No pro'."
Finally! Harry closed the door behind him and watched through the small window as the steel-blue car had disappeared from view. Not that the guys were that bad... Ok, so they were bad, but rather friendly amongst themselves and actually seemed to accept him in their circle, and Harry felt illogically uneasy when lying to them.
Suddenly the dull light in the hall went off.
"What do we have here?"
Harry jumped high in the air and turned towards the newcomer. Not that he could see a lot in the dark, only the vague shape of a human.
"Bloody Hell! Nothing. I am already leaving, sorry!" He almost reached the doorknob.
"Not so fast."
Harry did not quite understand what happened. One moment he was opening the door, the second he was thrown against the wall with the stranger's hand choking his throat.
"Stop..." he managed to croak.
The hand weakened its grasp and instead started caressing the abused flesh.
"Hm-m… Such smooth moonlike skin... Exquisite." whispered the man. "Now… Behave yourself. Good little pets do not struggle..."
At first Harry was just frozen from the implications of the little speech. When the meaning sank in, he grabbed the man's hand and tried to throw it away.
"Let me go, wanker!"
The hand hadn't moved an inch. It felt as though its muscles were made of steel. Fuck, fuck, fuck... He was in real and waist-deep shit.
"Tsk-tsk. It looks like a pet needs some training. That would be... entertaining to break you."
'What is it with me?' silently cursed Harry. 'Do I have a signboard on my forehead "Looking for trouble"? Oh, yeah, actually I do,' he admitted remembering his scar.
"We can even start now. A kiss, and your task is to answer it."
Harry was now officially bewildered and scared. So... the situation is even worse than he thought. His infamous bad luck led him straight into the hands of the fucking pervert who was not so straight. Shit…
The pervert didn't wait for Harry's frustrated brain cells to gather themselves together and proceeded in his actions. He pressed his lips against the boy's and softly kissed him.
"Open."
At that moment Harry finally decided on his future actions. He needed a distraction and he himself will provide it. He totally relaxed and sighing parted his lips. The eager tongue darted inside his mouth searching and exploring. The boy slowly started answering under the other's guiding. Accidentally his tongue brushed against something sharp, and he felt the metallic taste of blood. The perpetrator moaned and lost himself in the kiss not really caring if the boy answered or not. Now!
Harry flawlessly performed the universal feat against rapists. With all the strength he could master he kneed the manhood of the fucker. The latter doubled. The teen quickly grabbed his trunk and dashed outside. However, he didn't get very far as he ran into a wall. Well, maybe, not a wall.
"Now-now, does the birdy think it can fly away like that? I am not ready to lose the wizard blood source just yet…"
The man that Harry was now lying on was dressed in dark jeans and t-shirt, really nothing worth of mentioning but his face... Well, the skin was snow-white, the silver eyes bloodshot with a maniacal gleam in them and... The eyeteeth were very long and pointy.
"Shit!" A vampire! He is doomed. Now he will have to use magic. Or...
"HE-ELP!" Harry yelled on the top of his lungs capacity. The night walkers did not seem even to hear him let alone help.
The vampire laughed. "They cannot see or hear us. Vampyr magic. What do they teach you in your defense classes?"
Harry scowled. He himself also thought that the ministry program was lenient. Here was another reason to continue education elsewhere.
He jumped from the vampire. Well... Tried to jump but vampire's hands resting on his arse prevented such an action. Then he reached out for the wand in his pocket…
"Looking for something?" Harry did not like the smugness of the phrase.
He was right. He did not like what he saw either. His nice holly wand with a phoenix feather core was in the hands of the unstable maniac. Harry's eyes seemed to glue to the piece of wood. He was thrown off on the pavement and helplessly watched as it was snapped in two pieces.
Wave of pain and emptiness almost drowned him but the teen managed to stay conscious lying unmoving on the ground. Harry felt absolutely numb from the shock.
His body was rolled on the back.
"Hmm… What do we have here? No-no… You won't need those hideous glasses…"
Harry was deprived of his ancient glasses still unable to move. A crack manifested the mutilation of another his possession. Nothing that a good Reparo won't fix, but he did not have the wand now either.
He was finally coming to his senses and the distant growling of his anger was slowly but unstoppably turning into a full-fledged blind fury. How dare this scum!..
"A scar? Hm-m… And what, pray tell, is the little savior doing here? On a visit to the Alleys? Not that it matters… Your blood is too rich to trade you."
'Well,' Harry thought, 'that would be the first time that I regret to not be treated according to my fame.'
"You know talking to yourself is the first sign of madness," the teen finally uttered.
"Aww! The full sentence without curses, you are already improving. Now, stay still, I want more of that blood of yours."
"No!" 'No way this sucker will get or break anything of mine again!'
The vampire who already was about to bit down the neck of his prey jerked upwards at the strength in the teen's voice.
Nobody will know what he saw in the green eyes when he tried to move away in terror. The boy just grabbed him by the collar and touched the bare skin of the vampire with the other hand.
"Solaris!"
The blinding light shot through Harry's palms and incinerated the man to ashes. For several moments the boy just stared at his hand in disbelief. Then smiled widely and booted the remaining clothes in satisfaction.
"Got what you deserved…"
The administrator at the reception was enjoying her so far most boring and lazy shift in a month. No check-ins, no check-outs, no new- or old-comers. The woman's head was slowly bending forwards and her eyelids closing.
"Could I reserve a room for two days?"
Sandra awoke in mere moments, as sharp and attentive as ever. That trait came with experience of her long night shifts.
A kid, fourteen or so years old. Messy hair and battered appearance. He did not look like he was able to pay, but she long time ago learned not to jump to conclusions. Appearances can be misleading.
The boy seemed to notice her scrutiny.
"Sorry 'bout that," he said and licked the dripping blood off his lower lip. "It seems London is not really safe to travel at night."
She just snorted at that comment.
"What room do you want?"
"Oh, nothing fancy. Just a one-person room with bathroom."
"Your ID?"
Harry was very glad that his mother was a muggleborn for he had perfectly legal documents proving his birth and existence, and, of course, passport which he gladly supplied after a long search in his trunk.
The woman seemed to be surprised about something. "You are older than I thought."
The teen scowled. "Yeah, right."
Sandra dropped the obviously painful topic. "We do have a spare room. That will be 30 pounds per night. How long will you stay?"
"At least tonight and tomorrow night as well."
"All right. 60 ponds then. Do you pay in cash or by credit card?"
"Cash."
The money was fished out of an ancient-looking wallet, and Sandra was pleased that she didn't mistreat a payable customer.
"Thank you. Here is your room key. Second floor, room number 25."
"And thank you. Have a good night."
Relieved that all went well Harry reached the door and cautiously opened it. After searching all the corners and finding nothing incriminating or suspicious, he locked the door plus placed one of the two chairs under the doorknob. Only then the boy allowed himself to relax. Damn, he was getting paranoid. But who can blame him? He had a rough night. Besides, they say, you are not paranoid if they're out to get you.
His temporary residue looked for the lack of better word plain: a neat bed, two aforementioned chairs, a table, and a small wardrobe. But even that was better than his bedroom at Privet Drive, the furniture here at least looked new. And there was a bathroom!..
While soaking in the tube, Harry's mind ran over the things that happened. The loss of the wand made him magic-less though he had to look deeper into the whole "solaris" incident… Then there were his broken glasses that made him practically blind. New ones were certainly in order.
So the major plan for tomorrow was to buy glasses, change appearance by muggle means and visit Gringotts. Harry hoped that the famous goblin impartiality and neutral position in war were not a myth. Although he suspected that impartiality was based a great deal on genereous tips. Fortunately, he was not poor.
The teen dried with a fresh towel, put on boxers, set the alarm-clock and finally dropped on the bed. Having wrapped himself in the covers, he immediately drifted to the realm of dreams.
- Edited: 6th May 2008