That Most Lonely Thing
Chapter One
I own nothing. I'm just playing for a while.
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Looking back on it later, Harry had to admit that it was quick probably the best possible moment the Death Eaters could have chosen to attack. It was Vernon and Petunia's anniversary, and they were out having dinner at The Ivy, and weren't expected back until late. They'd tried to get a sitter, but all the usuals were busy, and the girl they'd gotten instead was a year or two younger then Harry, had laughed herself sick when she saw him and Dudley, and then had left. So, unwilling to cancel their dinner, they'd told Dudley to watch Harry, and left. Five minutes later Dudley was out the door, as Piers called with news of a new video game he'd gotten.
So it was that Harry was completely alone in the dark house when he happened to glance out his window and notice a death eater stumble into the light from a street lamp for a brief moment before pulling himself back into the concealing shadows.
For a moment Harry froze, sheer terror rooting him to the spot. However, during the past school year his professors had ground into him the importance of not letting himself be ruled by his fear if this moment ever came, and it was that training that made his body move, letting Hedwig out of her cage and reaching for a muggle backpack Sirius had given him in case of just such an occasion even before his mind had yet started thinking again.
His eyes darted around the room, taking in it's contents. He couldn't trust that any of this would still be here after this night, and he had only moments to sort out which items meant the most to him. Into the bag went the photo album of his parents, followed by a bundle of all the letters his friends had ever sent him and the Marauder's Map, which Dumbledore had kindly returned to him the year before, after taking the time to carefully copy out all the information on it. Two clean robes, the money pouch he carefully kept hidden, and-- with a small groan-- the homework he'd managed to get done so far went in the bag, and that was it.
All this was done within just over a minute, and then he glanced outside and carefully examined the shadows, making out the vague forms of Death Eaters, apparently waiting for someone. He didn't know if that was a good thing or not.
He dragged his Firebolt and invisibility cloak out from where they were hidden under his bed, wincing slightly when he noticed quite a few bent twigs, but not allowing himself to dwell on it. He let it fall forward to float in the air, and then nabbed Hedwig and settled down on it, carefully draping them both in the long cloak, then wrapping it tightly around the bottom of the broom, and sitting on the ends to make sure that he would neither be seen from below, nor accidentally end up trailing the ends straight into someone. For a moment Hedwig glared at him reproachfully, but she obviously could tell this was important, and didn't make a sound.
The broom rose sluggishly due to the confining material, but he didn't care about speed at the moment. He slowly went through his door and down the hall, to where a trapdoor in the ceiling lead to the attic. It was a bit tricky opening it without disturbing the cloak, and even more so to close it behind him, but he managed. There was a window set into the roof up here, one that wouldn't be visible to those on the lawn when it opened. He sent a brief, fervent prayer to whatever god might be listening that they wouldn't be intelligent enough to have anyone on broomsticks hovering over the house, since the window being pushed open would be visible from above, then pushed through into the open air.
He expected at any moment to hear someone cry out, to have them point him out to the group, but his fears proved groundless. It was almost ridiculous how easy it was to escape them. These were the loathsome Death Eaters? The men whose possible coming had haunted his nightmares for over a year, ever since the night of the third task? He almost laughed, except he knew that in truth it was only luck that had allowed him such an easy getaway. If that man, whoever it was, hadn't had the misfortune of tripping exactly within his line of sight at the exact moment he happened the get frustrated and glance up from the potions homework he'd been doing, they would have had him. Judging by how excruciating slowly the broom was moving without the touch of the wind to speed it along they still might. He knew full well that if the cloak fell in exactly the right (or should he say wrong) way it would become the tiniest bit reflective. It would be barely a shimmer in the air, but once they went in and found him gone it might be enough.
He supposed he should just be grateful it wasn't raining.
It had been almost 10 minutes, but he was only two blocks away. Damn! He'd know that the wind through a broom's twigs was supposed very important for getting up a decent amount of speed, but he'd no idea how much. His poor broom, which he was used to having be capable of flying at over 100 miles per hour was now moving at a crawl.
"All right," he whispered to Hedwig, "we aren't getting anywhere like this. I know you don't like this, but just stay under the cloak a little longer, okay?"
She gave a soft, accepting hoot, and he steered the broom downward. Thankfully it moved a lot faster down then it had forward, and a few minutes later he landed safely on the ground in a small alley, and stuck out his wand hand.
As the Knight Bus pulled up in front of him and Stan's friendly face appeared in the door the tense panicky feeling that had oozing around in his stomach began to settle. He would be safe here, he was sure of it. And, thankfully, no one else seemed to be onboard so he should be able to get away quickly. He pushed off the cloak, and moved to get on.
"Why Ernie, look! It's our ol' friend Neville Longbottom!" Stan exclaimed loudly as he helped him up, winking at him about as much subtlety as an elephant's behind. It was a good thing there wasn't anyone else there, or his cover would be blown wide open in second.
"Er, hi Stan. Ernie." Harry replied, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no black clad figures were materializing in the deep shadows of the alleyway. He was thinking now, quickly, and the one thing that his mind latched onto and refused to let go of was his family. If he'd been asked just a few hours before he would have said they deserved whatever they got but now, with Death Eaters lurking just outside their door and them defenceless against them, he couldn't just turn his back. He knew from past experience that Dudley wouldn't come home until his parent's called Piers' house and told him to do so. On the other hand, while he expected his aunt and uncle to stay out late, there was always the chance something would upset them and drive them home early. "Can we go to The Ivy?" he asked them.
Ernie pulled out something that looked like a small Rolodex, though as he quickly turned the wheel on the side Harry realised that there were many more cards in it then a muggle one would hold. After a moment he looked up. "The muggle restaurant, or the hospital?" he asked.
"The restaurant please."
"All right then." Stan read one of the cards over Ernie's shoulder, then grinned at Harry. "That'll be 10 sickles, 18 knuts Neville. Won't be so long that you'll need a water bottle and toothbrush I expect, but would you like a cup of hot chocolate?"
"No, but... I'm just going to be in there for a minute, and then I'll need to go somewhere else, if that's all right. I'm not sure where yet...." He frowned as he handed over the fare, "Well, I'm sure I'll decide by the time I need to tell you."
Harry settled down on one of the beds and stared out the window at the scenery as it began to whiz by, all but ignoring Stan's attempts to make conversation. They'd sat in the alley a long time, way to long. He knew he should have made them start moving right away, but doing so would mean telling them why it was so important to get moving, and he didn't want to make them panic. He took the fact that the bus wasn't immediately hailed to be a good sign, almost fully relaxed, now mulling over where he'd go after this.
The Burrow were the first place that came to mind of course. However, almost as soon as the idea entered his mind, it was dismissed. That was the first place any Death Eater who knew even the slightest thing about him would look. He needed somewhere where he would be public enough to draw attention away from them, but at the same time protected. Hogwart's would probably fit the bill perfectly, but, as much as he liked Dumbledore school, it had only let out three weeks ago. He really didn't feel like wandering around the building when it was devoid of everyone except the teachers and ghosts for the majority of the summer. Hogsmeade would have been perfect, if only there was an inn in the place. He supposed he could stay in Sirus' cave at night and wander around the town during the day, which had the added bonus that when his godfather found out he might possibly come back and stay their too if he wasn't needed elsewhere. However, sleeping in a cave all summer was almost as unappealing as the idea of staying at Hogwarts, and the only thing that made it an 'almost' instead of an 'a hell of a lot worse then' was that slight probability of spending time with Sirius, which more then likely wouldn't even happen.
Which brought him to the place he knew from the beginning he'd probably end up at. The Leaky Cauldron. He'd be safe as houses there, and he did need to go to Diagon Alley anyway to report the Death Eaters to the auror's that were on Dumbledore's side. He knew he had to go there, and he knew from experience that it was a good place to while away the summer hours. But... he really wanted to be around someone friendly. Even though he'd relaxed in the presence of Stan and Ernie, he knew that the fear had just retreated for the moment, and would return when he was alone again. He wanted one of his friends. He didn't want to be alone.
Suddenly he remembered the one person who might be around when he got there. He admittedly wouldn't have been Harry's first choice, he wouldn't even have been in the top ten, but he was still a friend. And Harry would probably be able to hunt him down at this time of night, if what Ron had told him was true.
"Neville, we're here."
Harry stood up at Stan's words. "Could you wait here for a few minutes?" he asked the wizards.
"Sure Neville, as long as no one else summons us. An if they do, you know how to get in touch with us."
"Alright, thanks." Harry slowly trudged away from the bus, glaring at the building as if hoping it might take offence and leave before he could get there. Sadly, it remained just as static as ever, and soon he was through the doors and in front of the podium. "Hello?" he said to the waitress there.
She looked him over, taking in his shapeless castoffs and messy hair, and her nose wrinkled slightly, "Yes?"
"My aunt and uncle are here, and there's an emergency at home I need to tell them about. Could you get them. Please?"
"Name?" the woman said as she glanced down at a reservation book. She sounded bored.
"Vernon Dursley. I think their reservation was for seven o'clock."
"Hmm, yes, here it is. Wait here." She went and briefly talked another staff member, then came back to the podium, ignoring him.
He glanced around, wondering if he'd see anyone famous. He'd gathered from the things he'd heard his aunt say while talking with friends about that night that stars tended to eat here. Of course, he realised while glancing from unfamiliar face to unfamiliar face, it wasn't as though he actually could recognise many people who were famous in the muggle world. His aunt and uncle rarely allowed him to watch the television for longer then brief glimpses when passing through the room, and he certainly never got to go to the movies or anything like that. Of course, with everyone else also looking around from celebrities, it was nice that for one his scar didn't draw the attention of everyone in the area.
"What are you doing here?" His arms was grabbed roughly from behind, and he was jerked around to face his uncle Vernon. The man's eyes were narrowed, and his nostrils slightly flared, though he was managing to keep his tone low, at least remaining aware enough of their surroundings to not start shouting.
"Look, I came to warn you. There're Death Eaters... really evil wizards swarming the house, and--"
"WHA--" His uncle was quickly turning an unappealing shade of red.
"Look, shut up and listen to me for two seconds of your bloody life! I don't have to be here you know, I could have let you go home and die, so you could at least listen to what I have to say!" Harry's face had hardened, and for the first time ever he faced Vernon not as the boy who was always terrified somewhere deep inside about setting a foot out of line in front of his uncle, but instead as the young man who was saviour of the wizarding world. The Harry Potter who'd survived the killing curse to face Voldemort again and again, never once falling; who had killed a man when he was only eleven years old. In the face of this Harry Vernon, a coward at heart like many bullies are, did what in the past he would have thought unthinkable, and shut the hell up. Harry nodded, pleased at this small victory. He continued speaking in a tone he hoped was too quiet for anyone else to overhear him, "Good. Dudley is at Piers' house, he'll still be there when you get there. Get a hotel room for the night, don't even drive past the house until you get an all clear. I'll tell the aurors, they're like policemen, to go check things out. When they tell me it's all right, I'll write you. And don't worry, I'm not coming back."
He turned and walked out the door, ignoring the curious looks the restaurant's patrons were giving him, and the angry noises Vernon was making behind him. It wasn't until he'd collapsed onto his bed in the night bus that he realised that he was shaking slightly. A slightly hysterical laugh escaped him as it fully hit him what he'd just done. He really hoped that Dumbledore wouldn't just turn him right around and send him home when he figured out where he was, because there was no way he'd be let back into that house.
"You all right Neville?" Stan asked him, obviously concerned by Harry's odd behaviour.
"Oh yeah, I'm just fine. Um, The Ministry of Magic in Diagon Alley now, please."
"Sure, that'll be another four sickles. Here," S pressed a mug of hot chocolate into Harry's hand. "On the house. You look like you could use something warm in you."
"Oh. Thanks." He took a long drink of the chocolate, glad that the hard part was all over. Hopefully he'd be safe for the rest of the summer. If Fudge had thought the Leaky Cauldron was safe from Sirius, who he'd believed powerful enough to blow up all those muggles, then hopefully it would also be safe from Voldemort's men.
He finished off the chocolate and lie back on the bed, trying to doze some on the ride. He must have been more tired then he'd thought and actually fallen asleep, because it seemed as though just seconds had passed before Stan was shaking him awake. "We're here Neville."
"Huh? Oh, thanks. I'll see you again sometime." He jumped down the small set of stairs, gave them a wave good-bye, and walked into the Ministry building. He knew how to get where he needed to be, Mrs. Weasley had had some business there the year before when he and Ron were school shopping, and Arthur had shown him around. Now he just had to hope he remembered his way correctly.
He turned left once inside, but didn't even get as far as the hall branching off from the lobby before a receptionist jumped up and stopped him. "Can I help you sir?"
"No thank you, I know where I'm going." It looked like she was going to stop him, but then she noticed the scar on his forehead and stilled, mouth hanging open. Well, that was a bit of luck.
Second right off the hall, and no one was paying any attention to him anymore because everyone knew that no one who wasn't supposed to be there would get past the first desk. Left at the picture of some goblin, then up two flights of stairs. Then straight to the hideous statue of the ministry's founder, and the second door on the left past it. He read the nameplate and smiled slightly, his memory hadn't let him down.
"Come in!" a voice on the other side of the door called out at his knock. He swung open the door slowly, and from behind his desk Percy blinked at him confusedly. "Harry? What're you doing here?" Then he seemed to remember his manners, and gestured to the chair across from him. "Please, have a seat."
Harry slumped down in the uncomfortable office chair, feeling safe for the first time since he'd seen the black-cloaked figure from his window. If there was one place he was safe from Voldemort's forces it was in the middle of the Ministry building. Even whatever spies he had in it wouldn't be stupid enough to do anything here. "'lo Percy," he said, a weary smile playing across his lips.
Percy was studying him carefully, and was looking more concerned by the second. Finally he stood up, and walked around the desk to sit in the chair next to Harry's. He hesitated for a moment, before settling a hand on Harry's shoulder, the way he would if it were one of his younger brothers coming to him with a problem. "What's the matter?"
Harry blinked at him stupidly for a second. Percy's voice was warm and concerned, completely free of it's normal pompous, know-it-all tone. He'd only heard Percy sound like this once or twice, generally directed toward Ginny. It was a strange change. "Death Eaters came to my house tonight."
Percy stiffened. "When? How many? What did they do?"
"It was about an hour ago. I could only see four of them from my window, but I bet there were more. One of them tripped or something, stumbled under the streetlight for a second. I didn't wait to see what they were up to after that, I just grabbed anything I wanted to keep and escaped through a window in the roof. Then I got on the Knight Bus once I was a few streets away. They took me to the restaurant my uncle and aunt were eating at, so they know not to go home, and then I came here."
"So, you're alright?"
"I'm fine. Really. The bristles of my broom might be a little the worse for wear after having to fly with a cloak tangled around them, but that's the worst that might have happened." Then he frowned, brow furrowing. "Unless my cousin decided to go home early for once in his life. But I'm sure that didn't happen."
Percy abruptly stood up, and brushed himself off. "Right," he said. "We're going down to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement this instant and informing the auror on duty about this. You did well to get out of there safely, but it's time to let the professionals take over."
Harry almost grinned at that. There was the Percy he knew. It had been a bit odd, though not unpleasantly so, to have Percy acting so attentive rather then shipping him right off to get everything officially taken care of. Not that he wouldn't mind seeing this other side of Percy again, when he was more prepared for the shock.
He trailed closely behind Percy, stupidly glad just to have someone else take control of the situation. The adrenaline had drained from his body by now, leaving feeling drained and empty. All he wanted was to collapse into the nearest bed and let someone else take care of everything. He didn't even realise they'd gotten to the Law Enforcement division until he heard Percy say, "Ah, Miss. Allard. We have a problem. This evening Death Eater's were poised to attack Harry here's home. He managed to escape before they did anything, but he has muggle residents who can't return home now, for fear of being attacked."
"Oh my!" The young woman dug through the papers cluttering up her desk, and pulled out one that appeared to be nothing more then a blank piece of paper. However, as she swiftly scribbled out 'Death Eater attack. Intended Victims: Harry Potter and Dursley Family. Location: #4 Privet Drive.' the ink quickly faded away into the paper, reminding Harry of Tom Riddle's diary and proving there was more to the paper then met the eye.
"All right dear, I'll have to ask you a few questions now," she said to Harry. "Is that all right with you?" Harry nodded. "Okay, about how long ago did this happen?"
"Um..." Harry glanced down at his watch, and tried to remember about when it had happened. "I think about an hour and a half ago now."
"Was there anyone else in the house?"
"No. My aunt and uncle were at a restaurant and my cousin was at a friend's house. I already warned them not to go home until I sent word it was safe."
"How did you know they were there, and about how many did you see?"
"One of them tripped and stumbled under the streetlight below my room for a second. I was lucky enough to catch that happening. There were about four that I could make out, but I was too busy escaping to really sit down and count."
She looked from the invisibility cloak draped over his arm to the broomstick leaning against his arm and said, "Alright, I think I can guess how you got away. That's all we need for now, but you should come in tomorrow and file a full report of the incident with whoever's on duty. They'll also let you know if the auror's who're on their way to your house now have given the word that it's safe for your family to return. For now why don't you find somewhere to get some sleep, alright dear? I'm sure you need it after tonight."
"Ok. Thanks." Harry walked out of the Law Enforcement office, with Percy following close behind.
"So, our you going to floo to The Burrow now?" Percy asked as they walked through the Ministry together.
"No. I don't want to endanger your family when they're after me. I'll go get a room at the Leaky Cauldron."
"Wait a moment while I gather my things, and I'll walk with you. Best for you not to be alone when their may be people aligned with Voldemort around, and I have a room there myself anyway." Then Percy offered him a small surprising smile, "I'm sure Mum will catch word of what happened soon enough, so you'll know where I am if you need someone to back you up, all right?"
Harry blinked at him for a second, flummoxed at the thought of straight-laced, rule abiding Percy offering to back someone up against his mum. Then he grinned broadly and said, "I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Thanks."
Much to Harry's surprise, something which seemed to be happening a lot that night, Percy blushed slightly, an embarrassed look on his face. "Well, I'll be happy to help. Come along then, I'll just be a second and then we can go see about getting you a room."
Together they walked off through the ministry, little knowing how the summer to come would alter both their lives.
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The title is from Yeats' His Phoenix. Since my normal way of choosing a title, using the name of whatever song I'm listening to when I finish the fic, failed (while it's true neither Harry nor Percy is a pretty girl, it still doesn't suit) I instead grabbed the nearest poetry book, closed my eyes, flipped through, and randomly put down my finger. The full bit in question is:
I mourn for that most lonely thing; and yet God's will be done:
I knew a phoenix in my youth, so let them have their day.
Chapter One
I own nothing. I'm just playing for a while.
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Looking back on it later, Harry had to admit that it was quick probably the best possible moment the Death Eaters could have chosen to attack. It was Vernon and Petunia's anniversary, and they were out having dinner at The Ivy, and weren't expected back until late. They'd tried to get a sitter, but all the usuals were busy, and the girl they'd gotten instead was a year or two younger then Harry, had laughed herself sick when she saw him and Dudley, and then had left. So, unwilling to cancel their dinner, they'd told Dudley to watch Harry, and left. Five minutes later Dudley was out the door, as Piers called with news of a new video game he'd gotten.
So it was that Harry was completely alone in the dark house when he happened to glance out his window and notice a death eater stumble into the light from a street lamp for a brief moment before pulling himself back into the concealing shadows.
For a moment Harry froze, sheer terror rooting him to the spot. However, during the past school year his professors had ground into him the importance of not letting himself be ruled by his fear if this moment ever came, and it was that training that made his body move, letting Hedwig out of her cage and reaching for a muggle backpack Sirius had given him in case of just such an occasion even before his mind had yet started thinking again.
His eyes darted around the room, taking in it's contents. He couldn't trust that any of this would still be here after this night, and he had only moments to sort out which items meant the most to him. Into the bag went the photo album of his parents, followed by a bundle of all the letters his friends had ever sent him and the Marauder's Map, which Dumbledore had kindly returned to him the year before, after taking the time to carefully copy out all the information on it. Two clean robes, the money pouch he carefully kept hidden, and-- with a small groan-- the homework he'd managed to get done so far went in the bag, and that was it.
All this was done within just over a minute, and then he glanced outside and carefully examined the shadows, making out the vague forms of Death Eaters, apparently waiting for someone. He didn't know if that was a good thing or not.
He dragged his Firebolt and invisibility cloak out from where they were hidden under his bed, wincing slightly when he noticed quite a few bent twigs, but not allowing himself to dwell on it. He let it fall forward to float in the air, and then nabbed Hedwig and settled down on it, carefully draping them both in the long cloak, then wrapping it tightly around the bottom of the broom, and sitting on the ends to make sure that he would neither be seen from below, nor accidentally end up trailing the ends straight into someone. For a moment Hedwig glared at him reproachfully, but she obviously could tell this was important, and didn't make a sound.
The broom rose sluggishly due to the confining material, but he didn't care about speed at the moment. He slowly went through his door and down the hall, to where a trapdoor in the ceiling lead to the attic. It was a bit tricky opening it without disturbing the cloak, and even more so to close it behind him, but he managed. There was a window set into the roof up here, one that wouldn't be visible to those on the lawn when it opened. He sent a brief, fervent prayer to whatever god might be listening that they wouldn't be intelligent enough to have anyone on broomsticks hovering over the house, since the window being pushed open would be visible from above, then pushed through into the open air.
He expected at any moment to hear someone cry out, to have them point him out to the group, but his fears proved groundless. It was almost ridiculous how easy it was to escape them. These were the loathsome Death Eaters? The men whose possible coming had haunted his nightmares for over a year, ever since the night of the third task? He almost laughed, except he knew that in truth it was only luck that had allowed him such an easy getaway. If that man, whoever it was, hadn't had the misfortune of tripping exactly within his line of sight at the exact moment he happened the get frustrated and glance up from the potions homework he'd been doing, they would have had him. Judging by how excruciating slowly the broom was moving without the touch of the wind to speed it along they still might. He knew full well that if the cloak fell in exactly the right (or should he say wrong) way it would become the tiniest bit reflective. It would be barely a shimmer in the air, but once they went in and found him gone it might be enough.
He supposed he should just be grateful it wasn't raining.
It had been almost 10 minutes, but he was only two blocks away. Damn! He'd know that the wind through a broom's twigs was supposed very important for getting up a decent amount of speed, but he'd no idea how much. His poor broom, which he was used to having be capable of flying at over 100 miles per hour was now moving at a crawl.
"All right," he whispered to Hedwig, "we aren't getting anywhere like this. I know you don't like this, but just stay under the cloak a little longer, okay?"
She gave a soft, accepting hoot, and he steered the broom downward. Thankfully it moved a lot faster down then it had forward, and a few minutes later he landed safely on the ground in a small alley, and stuck out his wand hand.
As the Knight Bus pulled up in front of him and Stan's friendly face appeared in the door the tense panicky feeling that had oozing around in his stomach began to settle. He would be safe here, he was sure of it. And, thankfully, no one else seemed to be onboard so he should be able to get away quickly. He pushed off the cloak, and moved to get on.
"Why Ernie, look! It's our ol' friend Neville Longbottom!" Stan exclaimed loudly as he helped him up, winking at him about as much subtlety as an elephant's behind. It was a good thing there wasn't anyone else there, or his cover would be blown wide open in second.
"Er, hi Stan. Ernie." Harry replied, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no black clad figures were materializing in the deep shadows of the alleyway. He was thinking now, quickly, and the one thing that his mind latched onto and refused to let go of was his family. If he'd been asked just a few hours before he would have said they deserved whatever they got but now, with Death Eaters lurking just outside their door and them defenceless against them, he couldn't just turn his back. He knew from past experience that Dudley wouldn't come home until his parent's called Piers' house and told him to do so. On the other hand, while he expected his aunt and uncle to stay out late, there was always the chance something would upset them and drive them home early. "Can we go to The Ivy?" he asked them.
Ernie pulled out something that looked like a small Rolodex, though as he quickly turned the wheel on the side Harry realised that there were many more cards in it then a muggle one would hold. After a moment he looked up. "The muggle restaurant, or the hospital?" he asked.
"The restaurant please."
"All right then." Stan read one of the cards over Ernie's shoulder, then grinned at Harry. "That'll be 10 sickles, 18 knuts Neville. Won't be so long that you'll need a water bottle and toothbrush I expect, but would you like a cup of hot chocolate?"
"No, but... I'm just going to be in there for a minute, and then I'll need to go somewhere else, if that's all right. I'm not sure where yet...." He frowned as he handed over the fare, "Well, I'm sure I'll decide by the time I need to tell you."
Harry settled down on one of the beds and stared out the window at the scenery as it began to whiz by, all but ignoring Stan's attempts to make conversation. They'd sat in the alley a long time, way to long. He knew he should have made them start moving right away, but doing so would mean telling them why it was so important to get moving, and he didn't want to make them panic. He took the fact that the bus wasn't immediately hailed to be a good sign, almost fully relaxed, now mulling over where he'd go after this.
The Burrow were the first place that came to mind of course. However, almost as soon as the idea entered his mind, it was dismissed. That was the first place any Death Eater who knew even the slightest thing about him would look. He needed somewhere where he would be public enough to draw attention away from them, but at the same time protected. Hogwart's would probably fit the bill perfectly, but, as much as he liked Dumbledore school, it had only let out three weeks ago. He really didn't feel like wandering around the building when it was devoid of everyone except the teachers and ghosts for the majority of the summer. Hogsmeade would have been perfect, if only there was an inn in the place. He supposed he could stay in Sirus' cave at night and wander around the town during the day, which had the added bonus that when his godfather found out he might possibly come back and stay their too if he wasn't needed elsewhere. However, sleeping in a cave all summer was almost as unappealing as the idea of staying at Hogwarts, and the only thing that made it an 'almost' instead of an 'a hell of a lot worse then' was that slight probability of spending time with Sirius, which more then likely wouldn't even happen.
Which brought him to the place he knew from the beginning he'd probably end up at. The Leaky Cauldron. He'd be safe as houses there, and he did need to go to Diagon Alley anyway to report the Death Eaters to the auror's that were on Dumbledore's side. He knew he had to go there, and he knew from experience that it was a good place to while away the summer hours. But... he really wanted to be around someone friendly. Even though he'd relaxed in the presence of Stan and Ernie, he knew that the fear had just retreated for the moment, and would return when he was alone again. He wanted one of his friends. He didn't want to be alone.
Suddenly he remembered the one person who might be around when he got there. He admittedly wouldn't have been Harry's first choice, he wouldn't even have been in the top ten, but he was still a friend. And Harry would probably be able to hunt him down at this time of night, if what Ron had told him was true.
"Neville, we're here."
Harry stood up at Stan's words. "Could you wait here for a few minutes?" he asked the wizards.
"Sure Neville, as long as no one else summons us. An if they do, you know how to get in touch with us."
"Alright, thanks." Harry slowly trudged away from the bus, glaring at the building as if hoping it might take offence and leave before he could get there. Sadly, it remained just as static as ever, and soon he was through the doors and in front of the podium. "Hello?" he said to the waitress there.
She looked him over, taking in his shapeless castoffs and messy hair, and her nose wrinkled slightly, "Yes?"
"My aunt and uncle are here, and there's an emergency at home I need to tell them about. Could you get them. Please?"
"Name?" the woman said as she glanced down at a reservation book. She sounded bored.
"Vernon Dursley. I think their reservation was for seven o'clock."
"Hmm, yes, here it is. Wait here." She went and briefly talked another staff member, then came back to the podium, ignoring him.
He glanced around, wondering if he'd see anyone famous. He'd gathered from the things he'd heard his aunt say while talking with friends about that night that stars tended to eat here. Of course, he realised while glancing from unfamiliar face to unfamiliar face, it wasn't as though he actually could recognise many people who were famous in the muggle world. His aunt and uncle rarely allowed him to watch the television for longer then brief glimpses when passing through the room, and he certainly never got to go to the movies or anything like that. Of course, with everyone else also looking around from celebrities, it was nice that for one his scar didn't draw the attention of everyone in the area.
"What are you doing here?" His arms was grabbed roughly from behind, and he was jerked around to face his uncle Vernon. The man's eyes were narrowed, and his nostrils slightly flared, though he was managing to keep his tone low, at least remaining aware enough of their surroundings to not start shouting.
"Look, I came to warn you. There're Death Eaters... really evil wizards swarming the house, and--"
"WHA--" His uncle was quickly turning an unappealing shade of red.
"Look, shut up and listen to me for two seconds of your bloody life! I don't have to be here you know, I could have let you go home and die, so you could at least listen to what I have to say!" Harry's face had hardened, and for the first time ever he faced Vernon not as the boy who was always terrified somewhere deep inside about setting a foot out of line in front of his uncle, but instead as the young man who was saviour of the wizarding world. The Harry Potter who'd survived the killing curse to face Voldemort again and again, never once falling; who had killed a man when he was only eleven years old. In the face of this Harry Vernon, a coward at heart like many bullies are, did what in the past he would have thought unthinkable, and shut the hell up. Harry nodded, pleased at this small victory. He continued speaking in a tone he hoped was too quiet for anyone else to overhear him, "Good. Dudley is at Piers' house, he'll still be there when you get there. Get a hotel room for the night, don't even drive past the house until you get an all clear. I'll tell the aurors, they're like policemen, to go check things out. When they tell me it's all right, I'll write you. And don't worry, I'm not coming back."
He turned and walked out the door, ignoring the curious looks the restaurant's patrons were giving him, and the angry noises Vernon was making behind him. It wasn't until he'd collapsed onto his bed in the night bus that he realised that he was shaking slightly. A slightly hysterical laugh escaped him as it fully hit him what he'd just done. He really hoped that Dumbledore wouldn't just turn him right around and send him home when he figured out where he was, because there was no way he'd be let back into that house.
"You all right Neville?" Stan asked him, obviously concerned by Harry's odd behaviour.
"Oh yeah, I'm just fine. Um, The Ministry of Magic in Diagon Alley now, please."
"Sure, that'll be another four sickles. Here," S pressed a mug of hot chocolate into Harry's hand. "On the house. You look like you could use something warm in you."
"Oh. Thanks." He took a long drink of the chocolate, glad that the hard part was all over. Hopefully he'd be safe for the rest of the summer. If Fudge had thought the Leaky Cauldron was safe from Sirius, who he'd believed powerful enough to blow up all those muggles, then hopefully it would also be safe from Voldemort's men.
He finished off the chocolate and lie back on the bed, trying to doze some on the ride. He must have been more tired then he'd thought and actually fallen asleep, because it seemed as though just seconds had passed before Stan was shaking him awake. "We're here Neville."
"Huh? Oh, thanks. I'll see you again sometime." He jumped down the small set of stairs, gave them a wave good-bye, and walked into the Ministry building. He knew how to get where he needed to be, Mrs. Weasley had had some business there the year before when he and Ron were school shopping, and Arthur had shown him around. Now he just had to hope he remembered his way correctly.
He turned left once inside, but didn't even get as far as the hall branching off from the lobby before a receptionist jumped up and stopped him. "Can I help you sir?"
"No thank you, I know where I'm going." It looked like she was going to stop him, but then she noticed the scar on his forehead and stilled, mouth hanging open. Well, that was a bit of luck.
Second right off the hall, and no one was paying any attention to him anymore because everyone knew that no one who wasn't supposed to be there would get past the first desk. Left at the picture of some goblin, then up two flights of stairs. Then straight to the hideous statue of the ministry's founder, and the second door on the left past it. He read the nameplate and smiled slightly, his memory hadn't let him down.
"Come in!" a voice on the other side of the door called out at his knock. He swung open the door slowly, and from behind his desk Percy blinked at him confusedly. "Harry? What're you doing here?" Then he seemed to remember his manners, and gestured to the chair across from him. "Please, have a seat."
Harry slumped down in the uncomfortable office chair, feeling safe for the first time since he'd seen the black-cloaked figure from his window. If there was one place he was safe from Voldemort's forces it was in the middle of the Ministry building. Even whatever spies he had in it wouldn't be stupid enough to do anything here. "'lo Percy," he said, a weary smile playing across his lips.
Percy was studying him carefully, and was looking more concerned by the second. Finally he stood up, and walked around the desk to sit in the chair next to Harry's. He hesitated for a moment, before settling a hand on Harry's shoulder, the way he would if it were one of his younger brothers coming to him with a problem. "What's the matter?"
Harry blinked at him stupidly for a second. Percy's voice was warm and concerned, completely free of it's normal pompous, know-it-all tone. He'd only heard Percy sound like this once or twice, generally directed toward Ginny. It was a strange change. "Death Eaters came to my house tonight."
Percy stiffened. "When? How many? What did they do?"
"It was about an hour ago. I could only see four of them from my window, but I bet there were more. One of them tripped or something, stumbled under the streetlight for a second. I didn't wait to see what they were up to after that, I just grabbed anything I wanted to keep and escaped through a window in the roof. Then I got on the Knight Bus once I was a few streets away. They took me to the restaurant my uncle and aunt were eating at, so they know not to go home, and then I came here."
"So, you're alright?"
"I'm fine. Really. The bristles of my broom might be a little the worse for wear after having to fly with a cloak tangled around them, but that's the worst that might have happened." Then he frowned, brow furrowing. "Unless my cousin decided to go home early for once in his life. But I'm sure that didn't happen."
Percy abruptly stood up, and brushed himself off. "Right," he said. "We're going down to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement this instant and informing the auror on duty about this. You did well to get out of there safely, but it's time to let the professionals take over."
Harry almost grinned at that. There was the Percy he knew. It had been a bit odd, though not unpleasantly so, to have Percy acting so attentive rather then shipping him right off to get everything officially taken care of. Not that he wouldn't mind seeing this other side of Percy again, when he was more prepared for the shock.
He trailed closely behind Percy, stupidly glad just to have someone else take control of the situation. The adrenaline had drained from his body by now, leaving feeling drained and empty. All he wanted was to collapse into the nearest bed and let someone else take care of everything. He didn't even realise they'd gotten to the Law Enforcement division until he heard Percy say, "Ah, Miss. Allard. We have a problem. This evening Death Eater's were poised to attack Harry here's home. He managed to escape before they did anything, but he has muggle residents who can't return home now, for fear of being attacked."
"Oh my!" The young woman dug through the papers cluttering up her desk, and pulled out one that appeared to be nothing more then a blank piece of paper. However, as she swiftly scribbled out 'Death Eater attack. Intended Victims: Harry Potter and Dursley Family. Location: #4 Privet Drive.' the ink quickly faded away into the paper, reminding Harry of Tom Riddle's diary and proving there was more to the paper then met the eye.
"All right dear, I'll have to ask you a few questions now," she said to Harry. "Is that all right with you?" Harry nodded. "Okay, about how long ago did this happen?"
"Um..." Harry glanced down at his watch, and tried to remember about when it had happened. "I think about an hour and a half ago now."
"Was there anyone else in the house?"
"No. My aunt and uncle were at a restaurant and my cousin was at a friend's house. I already warned them not to go home until I sent word it was safe."
"How did you know they were there, and about how many did you see?"
"One of them tripped and stumbled under the streetlight below my room for a second. I was lucky enough to catch that happening. There were about four that I could make out, but I was too busy escaping to really sit down and count."
She looked from the invisibility cloak draped over his arm to the broomstick leaning against his arm and said, "Alright, I think I can guess how you got away. That's all we need for now, but you should come in tomorrow and file a full report of the incident with whoever's on duty. They'll also let you know if the auror's who're on their way to your house now have given the word that it's safe for your family to return. For now why don't you find somewhere to get some sleep, alright dear? I'm sure you need it after tonight."
"Ok. Thanks." Harry walked out of the Law Enforcement office, with Percy following close behind.
"So, our you going to floo to The Burrow now?" Percy asked as they walked through the Ministry together.
"No. I don't want to endanger your family when they're after me. I'll go get a room at the Leaky Cauldron."
"Wait a moment while I gather my things, and I'll walk with you. Best for you not to be alone when their may be people aligned with Voldemort around, and I have a room there myself anyway." Then Percy offered him a small surprising smile, "I'm sure Mum will catch word of what happened soon enough, so you'll know where I am if you need someone to back you up, all right?"
Harry blinked at him for a second, flummoxed at the thought of straight-laced, rule abiding Percy offering to back someone up against his mum. Then he grinned broadly and said, "I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Thanks."
Much to Harry's surprise, something which seemed to be happening a lot that night, Percy blushed slightly, an embarrassed look on his face. "Well, I'll be happy to help. Come along then, I'll just be a second and then we can go see about getting you a room."
Together they walked off through the ministry, little knowing how the summer to come would alter both their lives.
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The title is from Yeats' His Phoenix. Since my normal way of choosing a title, using the name of whatever song I'm listening to when I finish the fic, failed (while it's true neither Harry nor Percy is a pretty girl, it still doesn't suit) I instead grabbed the nearest poetry book, closed my eyes, flipped through, and randomly put down my finger. The full bit in question is:
I mourn for that most lonely thing; and yet God's will be done:
I knew a phoenix in my youth, so let them have their day.