Summary: LittleHarry Potter lay in his cupboard, trying to get to sleep. Unknown to him, there were people in the world who wished for his death. Little Harry is kidnapped from his bed by a blonde man.
Author's Notes: I've just re-upoaded this story, the only differences to the first two chapters is the addition of dates. I'm so sorry it has been so long since I last updated anything but I've recently done a load of planning for this story so all I really need to do now is just write it. I'm really quite sad because I thought it would most probably be easiest to just delete the story and start again but I also lost all the reviews :(. Anyway I hope all enjoy :). This is now going to be the third time of uploading this story now - i forgot to add the disclaimer :O oops, sorry J..
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters, or Hogwarts, absolutely none of it. I'm really sorry I forgot to add this on here earlier :S.
A Race against Time
Chapter One – The Night of the Departure
The Flight
28th October 1985
He tried to be a big, brave boy. He really did. But sometimes, like tonight, he wished he had his mummy, or even his daddy. But they were gone, never coming back. Sometimes he wondered what he had done wrong, how he had been so bad that his mummy and daddy had left him and Auntie Petunia and Uncle Vernon always had to shout at him. If they would tell him what he had done wrong he would try to make it all better. But they never told him as they had gone. Auntie Petunia and Uncle Vernon were always telling him off, telling him he had been naughty. That was why he had to do his chores, why he never got any toys like Dudley did, why he slept in the cupboard under the stairs and not in a bedroom upstairs like everyone else. He didn't mind his cupboard that much though, it was small and dark; he felt safe in his cupboard. The toys that Dudley had broken, and therefore then given to him, lay in his cupboard. His favourite toy was a teddy bear, he had named it Archie. Sandy brown in colour made darker by the stains, Archie only had one eye left and his right arm had become half unstitched causing the stuffing inside to puff out. But he loved him all the same. Archie was his best and only friend. He hugged him closer. It was very rare now for Harry to become scared of a night time whilst inside his cupboard. When he was younger he used to cry a lot and he would sometimes wet the bed, but not now; he was a big boy now; he had just had his fifth birthday. And five year old boys don't get scared, or cry or wet the bed. But tonight he was cold, huddling further under the covers, Harry curled up into a ball, Archie nestled safely against his chest. Harry was sure he could hear the spiders scuttling around the room, speedily weaving their webs in the darkness of the night. He shut his eyes tight, praying to fall asleep instantly but that never happened.
He had tried counting sheep once before but that didn't work, how are you meant to fall asleep after seeing 20 sheep zoom past; each trying to race the last? Harry had produced his own creation for falling into slumber; a woman a man and a little black haired boy. The little boy was him, of course, and the images of his mother and father were unclear for he didn't really know what they looked like. They all played and laughed and loved. And it was this feeling; the complete love surrounding them, the very breath they inhaled in, so full of this love, that sent Harry off to the land of nod. But tonight even that would not allow him to sleep. He lay quietly in his small bed, afraid of making a sound and just listens in the darkness. Everything is so much easier to hear in the dark; Uncle Vernon's snoring, so loud Harry is surprised the whole house doesn't quiver. An owl hoots outside most probably trying to find some food. The scuttling of a small animal hurrying across wood. The ticking of the clock on the mantel piece in the living room. It all sounds so loud and close. That is until there was a clattering heard in the kitchen, deafening to Harry's ears. He clamps his hands over them and squeezes his eyes shut tight and starts shaking slightly as he hears the squeaking of footsteps on the kitchen floor.
The footsteps stop outside of his cupboard. Harry curls himself into an even tighter ball his whole body quivering in fear. Archie is scrunched close against him. An involuntary whimper escaped his mouth, which he clamps shut as soon as the noise emerges, his eyes opening insanely wide at the same time. The slide of metal against metal was heard just before the resounding click of the lock opening is; the sound thunderously loud along with his heartbeat. His eyes snap shut once again when light slowly creeps through as the door opens up more and more. A shadow of a tall figure extends over most of the small cupboard, gentle light filtering in from behind the figure. Harry slowly dares to open his eyes; from his point of view he can see the unusually booted feet of the intruder. The boots shine a purple-black in the light, with scales much larger than a snake's, the toes ending in a point. Slowly trailing his eyes skyward, Harry could see the tight dark purple trousers of the man in front of him being hidden by a black clock. The shirt is silky black. Looking up into the man's face Harry first notices the hair colour; so light it is almost white, but this man is too young to have white hair already; there are no wrinkles upon this man's face, which is, he notices, pale as paper, pointed and angular as a smirk begins to plant itself upon the man's features.
"Potter" He says, amusement ringing in his tone clear for all to hear. Harry stares at him with wide eyes; this man knows his name. An even greater feeling of fear rushes through his body as Harry stares at the man facing him. A movement could be heard from upstairs and the man all but leaps for Harry, grabbing his arm. It takes the man no effort to haul Harry from his bed and in seconds the two are by the door. Harry is motionless, helplessly clinging to Archie and the blanket that was covering him as he is pulled down the street, the blanket trailing behind along the pavement; what would Auntie Petunia say about that? The question races through his mind and sends tremors of horror down his spine. That is, until the man tightens his grip on Harry's arm, so tight to the point of painful and his feet can't keep up with the brisk walk of the other. Tears start leaking from his eyes and no longer does he care if he is meant to be a big boy or not. He cries relentlessly. Huge bawls tearing from his throat. At the end of the street he is suddenly yanked to the side behind a large tree. The abruptness causing him to pause fractionally before he begins once again, louder this time; wanting all to hear his distress.
A hand is clamped over his mouth, stopping him mid-wail. "Shut up, Potter. You have caused me enough problems already; you shall not do it at the age of five." The venom causes Harry to gulp loudly and just sniff. "Now, we need to find somewhere to stay for the time being." The man looks to his left and right before ordering, "Come."
Harry has no idea where he is being led to, just tries to keep up without tripping up too much. He clings to Archie's left arm as his own is wrenched almost hard enough for it to pop from his body. Still, tears run down his reddened cheeks, silent now, he snuffles; his nose is now runny too. They walk down many narrow, dark alleyways. All of which Harry has never seen let along been down before; the Dursleys would never go near something as foul and disgusting as these walkways. And as he looks up and catches a glimpse of his captor's face in the rare light he realises that his captor would not usually spend his time in these lanes either. He can tell because the man's face is scrunched up in a way that could only be from repulsion and disdain. When he sniffles again and catches a smell of the thick air around, he realises why. Do people who live in houses near here not own toilets? Soon Harry can hear loud noises, loud calls can be heard, scuffles on the ground. He can hear people, lots of people. The orange light of street lamps can be seen filtering in from the end of the alley. Hope bubbles within Harry. These people could save him. But suddenly he is dragged off to the left, away from the noise of people. Back into darkness once again. It carries on like this for what feels like forever to Harry. But his captor eventually comes to a stop; Harry is unsure why to begin with.
"We shall stay here for the time being, make yourself comfortable." Harry looks up at the blonde, confused. The man doesn't look down at him, just looks around. A gesture that Harry quickly imitates. His brows furrow low, all he can see under the light of the moon is trees and twigs and leaves and more leaves and twigs and trees. How could he be comfortable sitting on twigs and leaves? He eventually gathers up his courage to ask a question.
"B...But" he takes a big breath, puffs out his chest and carries on. Deciding that being polite to the man would be less harmful. "Sir, how can I sleep here?" his head tilts in question and his eyes burn with curiosity. The man finally looks at him, his silver eyes staring unblinkingly into Harry's own. It is several moments before he receives the answer.
"Potter," he spits, Harry recoils slightly at both the vicious tone and the hatred that shows clearly in the man's eyes and face. "To sleep, most people lie down and close their eyes. If you can sleep in a cupboard I'm sure you shall be able to spend a night under the stars. But of course, Mister pampered Potter would never dream of falling asleep outside. You will just have to deal with it." The man turns away, searching for something on the floor. Harry is ready to try to hold back more tears but finds that none come. He silently walks to a tree trunk, with his head downcast, he slumps down and curls into a shivering ball pulling Archie tight to his chest. His eyelids are becoming very heavy, just as he is about to drift off something lands on him; startling him to almost full wakefulness. He finds that it is his blanket. Cuddling underneath Harry doesn't even have the energy to say thank you before he is drifting off to sleep. His dreams are plagued with unsettling thoughts.
End of Chapter One