Decisions Reflections and Ruminations
or
(Well fuck, what do I do now?)
'Well isn't this just great.' I glared at the sight of the Dursleys car retreating into the distance. '"They're your family, Harry. Its for your own good, Harry." Ha!' Looking around at my things my loving relatives had dumped on the ground, I could only snort at the irony. "AND THEY TOOK MY BLOODY WAND!!'
Okay, maybe shouting wasn't the best idea. All it got me was some strange looks from the locals. Although it did make me feel better so maybe not a total loss.
'Okay, don't panic, wonder boy. What kind of hero panics at the first sign of danger?' The kind that's been abandoned, that's what.
With no other choice, I took stock of the situation I found myself in. It was not encouraging. The day after my… less than triumphant return, shall we say, from my fifth year at Hogwarts, my loving family had drags me out of bed at some ungodly hour of the morning and packed us all up in Vernon's brand new company car. I was then traumatised further, both by Dudley agreeing me about the early hour, (honestly woman, it's not even noon!) and the very Hermione-like voice in my head, 'really Harry you could be studying. And I've told you before, having voices in your head is not a good thing.'
Apparently Petunia had won a weekend in the country in the Little Winging Regional Gardening Competition. Apparently all of my hard work last year must have paid off.
We had stopped for lunch at this little town in the middle of nowhere. Well, I say we, I mean they had lunch and I wandered around the village. There wasn't much to it really.
The village I currently found myself in was a rather picturesque little village, with low houses, tiled roofs and cobbled streets it looked like a set off one of the period movies Petunia liked to watch. You know the one's, with dashing gentlemen, and twittering damsels. Feminism at its finest.
Hedwig scared the bejeezes out of me by fluttering down to settle on my shoulder, having apparently followed me all the way from Surrey. "Hey girl. At least you'll get a bit of freedom this summer. You get to fly around where ever you like. Must be nice." Hedwig hooted softly and nibbled on my ear. "So what do you think about this trip, Hedwig? Sounds a bit off to me."
Hedwig greatly disproves of my relatives. I think I figured this out the second time I had to wash the car after Hedwig had crapped all over it. I worried there might have been something wrong with her for a while there because of the sheer amount of crap, but apparently she had gotten all of the local owls and other birds involved as well. I wonder if they have some kind of tally going on. Five points for the windshield, eight points for the tyres, ten points for the fatty's head. I pretty sure Hedwig must be winning.
'That's strange,' I noted as I made my way back to the pub which my relatives were currently eating their way through. 'Where's the car gone?'
The thought had barely gone through my head when realisation set in. 'Where has the car gone?!' Because it was. Uncle Vernon's new company car, the silver BMW was no longer parked out side the pub where he had left it. 'They left. They've left me.'
So, the Dursleys are off on a weekend of luxury and relaxation, and I am left holding the bag on the side of the road, in a tiny little town, somewhere in Northern Wales.
All I had with me was yesterdays clothes, that were beginning to smell a bit and a few of Big D's newer castoffs, that already smelled a bit, hastily thrown in a shopping bag for me by my oh so considerate Aunt and my money pouch with three sickles and a knut left over from the train trip. Not exactly a fabulous survival pack. Still I've made to with worse, right? Right?
'Well Potter, you great lummox, you're not going to get anywhere just standing there, you need to do something.' Though what, exactly, I was supposed to do, I don't know. My loving relatives had dumped me half a country away from anywhere familiar. I didn't have enough wizard money for the Knight Bus, and didn't have any muggle money for a muggle bus. I didn't know anyone in the area or indeed where the area was.
'Swell.'
Taking the initiative, grabbing the bull by the horns and deciding that just standing there wasn't helping anything but his tan (though that could use a bit of work), I grabbed my trusty shopping bag (mindful of the hole in the bottom,) and picked a direction. Cleverly I picked the one heading toward the village.
At least I thought it was clever. Apparently the locals had other ideas.
"Are you lost, little boy?" a slightly nasal voice asked from behind me.
The voice belonged to a blond woman, accompanied by a equally blonde man. Privately I thought he looked like a bit of a whoopsy but prudence demanded I not mention it.
"Define lost." Definition is crucial. Particularly when I don't want to tell you something.
The woman sniffed. "Do your parent's know where you are?"
"Of course. My parents always know where I am." They were watching me from on high, everyone said so.
After all, she didn't ask where they were, did she?
They introduced themselves as Victoria and Humphrey. Obviously well to do with a rather Malfoy like countenance, they seem very impressed with their own importance.
"We don't get many strangers in Wall. What are you doing here?"
At least she answered the question of where I was, but what was I supposed to say? 'I've been abandoned by my greedy relatives and I'm stranded in the middle of nowhere until I can get my magical fan club that pretends to be a bird watching society to come rescue me?'
I'm sure that would go down well.
"Oh, you know, just taking in the sights, really."
"The only sight to see in these parts is the wall which it was named after.
Wall was named after a wall? Really? Who came up with that one?
"Well thanks anyway. Think you can direct me to the post office?"
"The post office!?" Humphrey asked incredulously. "You want to see the post office?"
"No," I said, "I want to send a letter."
"Oh." Now he seemed flustered and Victoria rolled her eyes.
I managed to ditch the couple at the post office, which was inside the general store, that was attached to the little constables office, who was also the store manager.
I put on my most innocent face, practiced repeatedly for Sirius until I had one that could have matched the Marauders in their heyday I asked the man behind the counter, the constable slash manager for a scrap of paper and a pen.
What I got was three centimetres of the bottom of a page, a pencil and suspicious look. (Now that I think about it, with the amount of detentions they received, maybe I shouldn't be taking their advice.)
I scribbled out a quick note.
Dear Order,
Have been abandoned by relatives in Wales. Currently in Wall.
How's your summer going? Everyone still alive?
HP
I re-read my note and nodded. Short, to the point and I even managed to sound like I cared.
I handed the pencil back with a smile. "Thank you so much Sir. You really helped me out. You have a good day." Really I think the man took his job a little too seriously. Really you'd think he'd never seen a boy with a owl on his shoulder.
Hedwig pinched the note off me as soon as we got outside, and flew off.
Now all I needed to do was wait.
Okay it's official. I hate waiting. There's only so many flower pots, cobblestones and street lamps a boy can look at before he begins to wander if anyone would notice if he rearranged a few. And the locals seemed almost Wizarding-like in their xenophobia. The looks I was getting reminded me of second year. From the Basilisk.
Eventually I decided to take up Humphrey's offer of see the wall for which the town was named. I figured the Order would be able to find me as long as I stayed in the general area and if not then they would undoubtedly kick up enough of a fuss that I would be able to find them.
The path to the wall was not exactly a well travelled one, but it was mostly clear and relatively easy to navigate. Well, relatively compared to the Forbidden Forest anyway.
Disappointingly the wall itself did not inspire any feelings of awe. It was little more than plain old pile of grey rocks. Half way through the field someone had blown a part of it out and I could make out part of the other side. Really it seemed no different over there then here, but who was I to judge. Maybe the people who built the wall really hated the colour of thee grass on the other side.
I decided to see if the grass really was greener on the other side.
Just an idea I was tossing around with a friend. I might make it into a full story if people like it. Or someone else can if they want.
Let me know if you think I should continue. It's kind of different from my usual writing style, (such as it is.) I have thinks pretty much mapped out if I do carry on, but I wandered if I really wanted to start another story.
