So, this is my first real try at a fanfiction. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed imagining and writing it! I don't own Harry Potter in any way shape or form, (If I did there would be a lot less dying and a lot more stuff like this… and probably strange and inexplicable musical numbers…but not in this fanfiction, anyhow…Enjoy! Just so everyone's clear on where this story starts off, this is just after Harry has come back from St. Mungo's and believes he's being possessed by Voldemort, and is about to run away from the Wizarding World, when Phineas Nigellus shows up with a message from Dumbledore…
Also words in bold Italics signify inner monologues… or whatever.
Gilding the Lillie 1: Living Legacy
Chapter One:
"…Have you never paused, while feeling hard-done-by, to note that following Dumbledore's orders has never yet led you into harm? No. No, like all young people, you are quite sure that you alone feel and think, you alone recognize danger, you alone are the only one clever enough to realize what the Dark Lord may be planning…"
"He is planning something to do with me then?" said Harry swiftly. "Did I say that?" said Phineas Nigellus. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than to listen to adolescent agonizing, good day to you…" And he strolled into his frame and out of sight.
"Fine! Go then!" Harry bellowed at the empty frame. "And tell Dumbledore thanks for nothing!" Harry glared at the empty portrait for a moment, silently fuming. "Stay where you are". He was so tired of people treating him like he couldn't handle anything, hadn't he proven himself more capable of fighting Voldemort than wizards twice his age? Hadn't all his escapes and all he'd had to endure over the past four years meant anything?
Well, he'd had enough. If no one was going to offer him any real help, he'd go ahead with his plan. He'd leave the Wizarding World far behind him. He'd never give Voldemort another chance to use him as a weapon again. He grabbed his trunk, and quietly opened his door…
He snuck silently into the hallway, and down the stairs. Careful not to wake Mrs. Black's portrait, careful not to make any sound that might alert the others to his presence. Finally, he reached the front door, stealthily opened it, pulled his trunk outside, and shut the door to Grimmauld Place tight. He was out.
He dragged his trunk past the unkempt grass in the middle of the littered square, past the broken-down houses, and out into the main road that lead into the neighborhood. After ten minutes of walking up and down countless side streets without an Order member chasing him down, Harry concluded he'd done a fine job of hiding his trail, and getting himself lost. He had absolutely no ideas where he was.
All his previous trips to London had included an adult to guide him around, now, on his own; he was forced to realize his plan to run away didn't have much planning behind it. "Ok…Think Potter…" He couldn't use the Knight Bus to get back to Little Whinging, that much was certain. And there was no way on earth he was going to walk there. (even if he had known the way.) "Well… there's always the Tube…"
. By now, it was beginning to get dark, and despite the streets in this area being relatively empty, Harry had no desire to wander around London alone at night. After another ten minutes trying to locate and finally finding a miserable little Underground station, he was starting to have second thoughts. He was cold, he was hungry, and he was really, really tired…As he walked down the stairs to the station, he struggled to keep his eyes open. Maybe once he was on the train he could take a quick cat na- No!
No naps. No sleep, not until he was sure he was away from anyone who could be hurt if he- -Harry squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to clear away the sleep and the dark thoughts. While this helped him to stave off sleep, his closed eyes prevented him from seeing that a person was now walking in front of him, at least they had been walking, until Harry walked straight into them, bowling them both over.
"OW! Watch where you're going!" Harry, eyes open now, began apologizing profusely, trying to gather up the scattered belongings he'd knocked out his trunk and the girl's (it was a girl) rucksack. He picked up a pencil box, and looked up at her, "I'm really so so-"He blinked, and his own eyes blinked back. The same almond shape, the same bright green color. He blinked again, before breathing out a quiet, wondering "…Sorry…"
He took in the face the eyes (looking at him with a fierce expression that lay between annoyed and amused) belonged to. It was a young face, the girl was probably no older then he was. She had an oval shaped face, a straight nose with a smattering of freckles on the bridge, and a cupid's bow mouth. Her dark red hair was pulled up into a pony tail that poked out the back of her baseball hat. She was thin, but not as thin as some of the older girls Harry had seen at Hogwarts, (the ones that spent all their time giggling behind GlamourWitch Magazine). He could tell that if she stood up, she'd probably come up just a bit shorter than him.
"What are you staring at?" Her question broke Harry out of his thoughts. "Oh, uh… sorry, i-it's just… your eyes." She gave him a look that clearly said she thought this was the wrong time for cheesy pickup lines. Harry back tracked quickly. "I-I mean-your eyes look…just like mine…just like." She narrowed her "just like" eyes, and leaned closer to Harry to get a better look at his. "It's true…" she said, in an awed voice. "Huh…" Her face broke into a playful smile. "Weird." "Yeah." Harry said, smiling back, relived she no longer looked annoyed at him. "Weird."
They sat on the station floor, continuing to look at each other bemusedly. Harry broke the moment of awkward silence by finally handing the girl her pencil box. "Um… this is yours, right?" "Oh right." She said quickly, blushing. "Thanks." They stood up, Harry reaching out a hand to help her to her feet. "Right…" They both looked around, trying to see if a train was coming. Seeing no sign of one, they sat down next to each other on the bench, looking anywhere but at each other.
After two minutes of leg swinging and foot tapping in total silence, the girl finally turned to Harry and asked "So… you running away?" If Harry had had a drink, he would have choked on it. "I-I-uh…w-what makes you say that?" She grinned like someone who'd just been told they were finally allowed to spill an extremely juicy secret. She began counting down on her fingers."Well, you're all alone on the day before Christmas Eve, you're lugging around a ridiculously large trunk no one would lug around unless they had to, and you've got this nervous, panicky sort of look like you don't want to be seen."
Harry blinked, and she grinned even wider. "Hah! I knew it." Her smug look annoyed Harry, and he returned the grin with his best imitation of Hermione's "No Ron, I will not do your homework" glare. "Well, what if I am? What's it to you? Anyway you're one to talk, you're alone too, and your rucksacks just as ridiculously large as my trunk!" "Sheesh!" she said, placing her fists on her hips, her grin not fading a bit. "Don't be such grouch! If you are running away, and I think we both know the answer to that, it's your business. I won't say a word, not one single word. Not that there's exactly anyone to tell." She said, gesturing to station, empty except for them.
Harry relaxed his glare "Well… alright, I'm sorry I snapped at you... It's just…" "I know. If you've got a reason to run away, it's not something you generally want to talk about." She gave him a knowing smile. Too knowing. "You're running away too?" She nodded, and then seemed to think about it. "Well…It's more like…running to." She gave Harry a calculating look, as if trying to figure out if she could trust him with something. She seemed to decide she could. "See, I'm trying to find-"She was cut off as the train rumbled into the station. She turned to look at it, and then turned back to Harry. "Where are you headed?" she shouted over the rush of the wind in the tunnel. "Tottenham Court Road!" He shouted back.
She looked quickly back to the train, which was beginning to slow down. She looked at Harry again, hard. It was kind of unnerving, and was beginning to make Harry uncomfortable, when her calculating expression fell, and suddenly she looked sort of sad, and lost. "C-Can I come with you?" She said, looking down at her hands. "I'll leave you alone whenever you say to but… well… it's not that I'm scared of the dark or anything." She added quickly, her original fierceness rearing up, before falling back into embarrassment again "But…tomorrow's Christmas Eve... and I-I just don't want to spend it…alone." She finished lamely.
Harry mind whirled. All he'd wanted to do was sneak away to the Dursleys with ought being noticed by anybody. And now a perfect stranger was asking to come along and spend Christmas with him. He looked back at the train, it wasn't going to stay there forever, and who knew when another one would pull up? He looked back at the girl, debating with himself. She's all alone… So? You don't even know her! But she's scared, she acts tough but-but nothing! She'll be really scared if you fall asleep on the train and turn into a dirty great snake! Harry gulped. This was all to true…but but if I have someone to talk to, it'll be easier to stay awake…and it is almost Christmas Eve…and I don't want to be alone either.
Harry took a deep breath, and nodded. She gave him her biggest grin so far. "Thanks." "Ah, no problem." Harry said, suddenly a little embarrassed himself. Once again he helped her to her feet as they stood up and boarded the train. "After all, It's the least I could do after smashing right into you and knocking you to the ground." He said grinning, and offered his hand. "I'm Harry by the way. Harry Potter" He felt no anxiety at telling her his real name, the car was empty except for them, and as a Muggle, she wouldn't know who he was anyway. She took his hand and shook it vigorously. "Lillian, Lillian Blake." She gripped his hand tighter, and pulled him a little closer with a smile. "But my friends, call me Lillie."
Meanwhile, back at Number 12 Grimmauld Place….
Ron knocked quietly on his and Harry's bedroom door, waited a moment for an answer, and then slowly opened it. "Harry? Mum say's dinner's ready, but she'll save you something if you-want-to…" He stopped, realizing the room was empty. But wait, how could it be empty? Harry wasn't downstairs, and if he wasn't here and he wasn't downstairs… Ron's eyes widened, and he looked rapidly around the room. Harry's trunk was missing as well.
"Oh no…" He turned quickly and run out the door onto the landing. "Mum! Mum!" He called out, voice shaking. Mrs. Black began to scream as well, and Mrs. Weasley rushed out of the kitchen. "Ron! What's the matter with you? Haven't I told you-" "Mum! Harry's gone!" Mrs. Weasley blinked, stopping short, (Mrs. Black continued her tirade). "Gone…what do you mean Ron? Gone how?"
"Gone! He's not in his room! He's not in the house, period!" By now Sirius and the Twins were attempting to pull the curtain back over Mrs. Black's portrait, and Ginny had come in to see what all the commotion was about. "Who's not in the house period?" Sirius grunted, straining at the curtain. "Traitors! Trespassers! Descendants of MudMen!" "HARRY!" Ron practically screamed.
Sirius let go of his end of the curtain, causing the twins to fall back in a heap from the lack of tension. Everyone was now staring at Ron. "What do you mean Harry's out of the house?" Sirius called up over his mother, his eyes wide with alarm. Ron was near panicking by now; every second spent explaining was time lost that they could be looking for Harry. He tried to explain as quickly and thoroughly as he could.
".Gone! He's not in his room, and he's not downstairs because we would have seen him, and as I can't think of any conceivable reason he'd be in the attic, .GONE! AND WE'VE GOT TO GO LOOK FOR HIM!" The group below stared up at him for a moment more, before breaking into total panic. Before anyone could stop him, Sirius had rushed toward the door, and flung it open. Before he could run out, Fred and George caught hold of him, and started to drag him back, his anguished cries echoing out into the night. "Harry! HARRY! HARRY!"