Harry potter fan fiction
Blood is dirtier than Water
Original Harry Potter by JK Rowling and story line by me (Kirsty Jones)
Prologue
We weren't aware of what was going on around us. It was like the Earth had curled us so carefully into this sodden corner of the globe that we had been distanced from the happenings around us. My husband, Tim, smiled at me from the corner of the tent. I couldn't help but smile back.
Even within the darkness that threatened to swallow us up we still had our little miracle. My little child – only a few weeks old – smiled at me from my arms. So quiet – I had never seen a child rest so peacefully in this madness. Although, I did suppose members of my family had always been quiet. My mother had encouraged me to study from an early age.
"We should move camp soon – it'll be dangerous to remain here too long," commented my husband, "they are coming closer - I'm sure of it. If we disillusion ourselves I'm sure it'll be alright."
After the now familiar feeling of having an egg broken over my head, I moved out of the tent and waited while Tim manually pack up the tent – it was quieter and using a minimum amount of magic of always advisable in these times. By now my child was looking on at the scene before us. A smile of approval was given as my husband completed the task and moved the package into our magical bag – it allowed any amount of weight to be added without growing larger or heavier. I always knew that this would have been a best seller if he had been allowed time to commercialise it. However, blood is always dirtier than water.
It wasn't long until the sun began to set. This was the best time to be traveling, any footsteps we made would become quickly obscured by animals and our silhouettes would become less obtuse against the surroundings.
"Where are we headed?" I questioned, holding my sleeping child to my chest.
"I think we should head towards the south a little," explained my husband after a short while, "I have hope that we are in the area that once belonged to the muggle king – William the Conqueror – the New Forest… If so I believe the south coast would be the best bet. We may have a chance of taking a boat to France. We'll have to dump the wands though if that is the case. The other side have set up 'weapon inspections' – the muggle world are on some sort of terrorist alert again."
I nodded thoughtfully; if we could make it over the France and then head further into the meditation area then we could certainly buy ourselves some time. I knew from what I had overheard in local taverns that the war had yet to reach Europe. Apparently, they were waiting to take the government first.
Some hours later, the first hint of the morning was on the horizon, we reached a sign that told us 'Welcome to Bournemouth'. We'd made it so far, I couldn't believe it. Our lives had changed so drastically in the last 2 months. Ever since they had started seeping into the system, blackening the waters. No-one had been able to prevent the inevitable, even him. I breathed in deeply. No it hurt too much to go down that path. My family are dead to me - my mother is certainly gone and my father might as well be.
"We should find somewhere to stop and make camp," I suggested. We needed to get nearer the towns before we started moving around in daylight, attempting to blend in with the thousands of tourists.
"I think we should try a B&B," said Tim, "we need to clean up if we're hoping to get on a boat."
I nodded, it certainly seemed like a good idea. No-one was going to be letting on what seemed to be a couple of tramps and a baby. "It might be a plan to purchase some muggle clothes as well – my only pair are wrecked!"
A few hours later, I was having the first proper warm shower I had experience in months. It was absolutely fantastic, I felt so relaxed.
"Sarah!"
The shout suddenly broken through my calm persona like a bludger through a window, I jumped out of the shower and ran out of the room.
Tim was in the hallway, "they're here Sarah, where did you leave the portkey? We can't let them know about the baby. We can't risk it."
I knew he was right. Even the child, usually so quiet, has starting to wail. Another explosion sounded near the building – closer than the last. I knew we didn't have long. Running to the bedroom, I moved to Tim's bag and summoned the portkey – a rubber duck – and a small basket. First I packed a few family heirlooms in the bottom, including the family vault key – which had for so long been on a chain around my neck. Then I covered them with a blanket and laid the babe, wrapped in another blanket on top.
"I will always love you," I whispered before placing the duck in the child's hand. With a flick of my wand to activate the portkey, the child was gone.
The last thing I heard was another explosion and the world went blank.
