Chapter 2 – Escape
The next morning Harry crawled out of bed, still feeling as angry as he had the night before. Unsurprisingly his dreams had been filled with his friends being hurt as they were coming to collect him, which only served to fuel his anger. There was no way they would have just forgotten him. There must be a reason they hadn't come.
He'd stayed sitting on the couch until midnight when he'd finally given up hope and dragged his trunk back up the stairs. He'd half expected to see owls clamouring to get in through his window, either with his birthday presents or with a letter of apology and an explanation, but there had been nothing. It really was as if he'd been completely forgotten.
He stomped down the stairs in a foul mood. He didn't know what had happened but he couldn't dismiss the thoughts that had occurred to him late last night. Did the Dursleys have something to do with this?
"Still here are you, boy?" Vernon said smugly from behind his newspaper. "I suppose those friends of yours decided they didn't want you after all. No surprise really. Why would they?"
Harry pulled the newspaper out of his hands and threw it across the room. "What did you do?"
Dudley actually looked away from the television, excited by the disturbance. His pig-like eyes widened and a grin began to form. He probably thought Harry was going to get punished. Across the room Petunia continued to prepare breakfast as though nothing were going on.
Vernon stood up, glaring down at Harry. "I don't like your tone, boy. You will speak to me with respect if you want to stay under my roof."
"Yeah, well I don't really want to," Harry said, not backing down an inch. "So if you'd just tell me what you did then I'll happily contact my friends and get out of your hair." With Hedwig still missing that would be a tad difficult, but he'd find a way.
"We didn't do a thing," Vernon said, his moustache was bristling and his face was just starting to go a lovely red colour. "Don't go blaming us for your shortcomings. Just because your friends don't come running at your beck and call is no concern of ours."
"Yeah right," Harry snorted. "For the first time you show an interest in my life while Aunt Petunia goes sneaking off upstairs. Then when I get to my room I find Hedwig's gone and then my friends don't come to get me when they said they would. Now tell me what you did."
Vernon smirked. "Not so stupid as you look are you?"
Harry fumed silently.
"Fine. We sent them a letter telling them you'd be spending the entire summer with us this year because we wanted to treat you to a holiday abroad."
"What?" Harry spluttered. "Why would you do that?"
"We might have to take you in year after year, but that doesn't mean we want any old freaks wandering about this house," Petunia sniffed, placing a heaped plate of sausages, bacon, eggs and toast in front of Dudley whose diet of two summers before had been long forgotten now he was a boxing 'champion'. Personally Harry was surprised he could lift himself into a ring, let alone box his way out of it.
"Nice try," Harry said scathingly. "They'd be here for two minutes at most and then you wouldn't have to see me for a whole year. Don't pretend that isn't what you normally want. What's the real reason?"
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia shared a long look.
"It's your own fault," Aunt Petunia said at last. "If you hadn't done you-know-what to poor Duddikins last summer then I never would have gotten that... letter."
Harry vaguely remembered the howler Dumbledore had sent her last year after the incident with the dementors, but didn't see what that had to do with any of this.
"Your aunt showed me the letter that was left with you on our doorstep," Uncle Vernon said briskly. "It seems that your Headmaster used his thing to protect you and this house while you were here from some bloke named after a pastry."
"So?" Harry said trying to work out who exactly Uncle Vernon was talking about.
"It's Voldemort, remember Vernon, not vaulivant," Petunia muttered under her breath so Harry only just caught it.
Vernon ignored her, focusing his beady eyes on Harry to gage his reaction. "You told us he was back and after you. Now tell me, boy, what happens to us, the people who raised you?"
Harry swallowed. He had a nasty feeling he knew where this was going, but he couldn't lie to them. "He'd kill you. Might even torture you first."
In the corner Dudley's face went a pasty white, but Uncle Vernon seemed to be expecting this answer. "So it seems to me that the only way we're safe is to keep you here all the time. It might not be a pleasant thought, but I'm sure we'll manage to put up with you somehow."
"That's ridiculous," Harry exploded. "I only need to be here for a few weeks a year to keep the spells going. Trust me, Dumbledore wouldn't let me leave before they were recharged. You'll be perfectly safe." In all honesty he didn't care much what happened to the Dursleys, but he didn't want them dead. Even so, there was no way he was going to miss Hogwarts for them, especially when he knew they'd be perfectly fine without him.
"We're not taking that risk," Petunia snapped. "You'll just have to stay here. We've already arranged for you to go to Stonewall High in September."
Harry gaped at her. "No! I'm not staying. My friends won't just forget about me."
"That's why you're going to write to them and tell them that you've decided to stay here," Vernon said, sitting back down as if the conversation were over. "I don't care what you have to tell them, just convince tham it's what you want."
"No," Harry said again. "As soon as Hedwig gets back I'm going to write and tell them what you've done and they'll come and get me."
Vernon surged to his feet and Harry took an involuntary step back. One beefy hand shot out and caught Harry's upper arm and began steering him out of the room and up the stairs. "You will do as you're told," a purple faced Uncled Vernon hissed angrily as he opened Harry's door and forced him inside.
"You can't make me," Harry retorted angrily, shaking himself out of his uncle's grip.
"Really? Can't I?" Harry was slightly disturbed to see the vein in Uncle Vernon's forehead begin to pulse, something that only happened when the man was really angry. Without warning his hand struck out and Harry twisted at the force of the blow, falling to the floor with a small cry.
When he looked up Uncle Vernon had calmed down and was now staring between his hand and Harry. He seemed almost surprised as if he had no control over his own actions.
Harry glared at him defiantly, although his mind whirled in the shock of what had just happened. Although the odd slap was nothing new for him this was the first time he could remember Uncle Vernon actually punching him, especially since he had started his schooling at Hogwarts.
"Yes, well," Uncle Vernon blustered. "You think about it and when you're ready to do as you're told maybe we'll let you out."
It took a moment for Harry to realise what he meant, but by the time he had gotten to his feet and lurched towards the door Uncle Vernon had already disappeared behind it, shutting it firmly. The sounds of the locks clicking into place on the other side filled him with dread. This was more like the Dursleys usual style. He'd grown up in this house largely unscathed as far as physical violence went, but he was quite used to being locked away and starved. His family seemed to prefer the more distant approach of making him feel unwanted. True Aunt Petunia had a tendency to chase him with frying pans and Uncle Vernon had tried to throttle him once or twice and Dudley's gang used to beat him up all the time. Then there was that time Uncle Vernon had grabbed his arm and slammed him into a wall, resulting in a broken arm and a lost tooth, thankfully it had only been one of his baby teeth, but still. It had all stopped once he'd started Hogwarts, except for the occasional slap to the top of his head. Although, come to think of it he seemed to remember Uncle Vernon taking a swing for him any number of times, but in the past he'd always been able to duck out of the way. Why then was he feeling so shocked? Was it just because this time the hit had actually connected? Was that why Uncle Vernon was so surprised as well? For a moment it looked like he was almost scared of what he had done.
Harry walked over to his mirror, making sure to stomp his feet so he could be heard downstairs. The skin around his right eye had turned a vivid red colour and was tender to the touch. He'd probably have an almighty bruise in a few hours. He wondered how long it would be until he was fed. He hadn't managed to catch any breakfast this morning and had missed dinner last night. They wouldn't leave it too long would they? They must still be scared of what the Order would do to them if he were mistreated no matter what their plans were.
He sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed. All he really had to do was wait until Hedwig came back and send the Order a letter telling them he didn't want to be here. He could understand the Dursley's fears. Ever since he'd come back to Surrey there had been news reports of strange occurrences, missing people and violent murders. Even the muggles were noticing that something wasn't right and the Dursleys, being in the know, knew better than most what these sorts of things meant. Voldemort was back.
The Dursleys may not know the whole story of what happened that night on Halloween, but they knew that Voldemort had tried to kill Harry and the letter Dumbledore left with him probably explained that Harry would always be a target because of what happened that night, if nothing else.
No, Harry couldn't blame them, but he didn't plan to abide by their rules either.
At lunch time Petunia brought him up a sandwich. Harry was surprised that she had gone to even that much effort and that the bread was neither mouldy or stale. He could only suppose they really were trying to keep the Order appeased.
The Order! He couldn't belive he'd been so stupid. The Order were watching the house! They'd know that the Dursleys hadn't taken him on holiday. Not only that, but Harry didn't have to wait for Hedwig to get word to them, all he had to do was find his guard without alerting the Dursleys to what he was doing.
Unforunately that was easier said than done. His window, while big enough for Hedwig to get in and out, was not quite big enough for him to squeeze through. Even if he could, there was no way for him to get safely to the ground and once down he wouldn't be able to get back up unless he went through the house, which would alert the Dursleys to what he'd been doing. Even if he did get out it would be difficult to find the Order member on duty as they stayed hidden under invisibility cloaks. He could drop a letter out the window and hope they found it, but there was an equal likelihood of Aunt Petunia finding it first. Unless he waited until he was absolutely positive an invisible someone was in the back garden.
He hopped up onto his desk, moving Hedwig's cage out of the way, and sat staring out into the garden. It was an uncomfortable place to sit, but he was determined he wouldn't leave until he'd accomplished his mission. Not like he had many places to go anyway.
Outside the sun was shining brightly and Harry yearned to go walking as he usually did. He strained his eyes for the slightest movement, anything that would give a hidden watcher away. Every few moments he'd start and stare expectantly until he realised that whatever it was that had caught his eye was probably just a summer breeze.
As he sat there, parchment and quill on his lap, trying to compose a letter that didn't make him look totally pathetic and watching the outside world, his mind wandered in directions he wished it wouldn't. For some reason he kept imagining Dumbledore's office at the end of last term when he had thrown various trinkets against the wall and screamed at Dumbledore. Even now he wasn't sure if he blamed Dumbedore or not for Sirius' death. It was true that if he had told Harry about the prophecy or that it was possible for Voldemort to give him fake visions then it might not have happened, but then had Harry really been emotionally prepared to deal with the prophecy before now? Was he prepared even now? He'd spent so much of the last year angry with everyone, feeling like he was under so much pressure he might snap at any moment, knowledge of the prophecy might have calmed him, or it might have sent him over the edge. And he could understand that Dumbledore had wanted him to enjoy as much of his childhood as possible, even if the idea was ludicrous. But the Occlumency thing... now that was Dumbledore's fault.
Those lessons should never have happened. The only useful thing Harry had got out of them was... well he hadn't really gotten anything out of them except bad headaches and bruised knees. If Dumbledore hadn't been prepared to teach Harry himself then he should have found someone that could work with him, not Snape, never Snape. Any fool could see that they hated each other. Forcing them together was quite possibly the worst idea in the history of the human race. The final result was, if nothing else, predictable.
Snape himself was a whole different story. He'd done nothing but belittle Sirius and goad him into doing something stupid. He hadn't taught Harry Occlumency, hadn't really tried. His teaching methods consisted of screaming and cursing, not the best way for someone to learn something. Harry wasn't looking forward to seeing the Potions Master again. Although that might not be much of a problem if he didn't get the OWL result he needed.
Come to think of it, hadn't Hermione said the OWL results would arrive yesterday? There hadn't been a sign of an owl all day. Maybe he'd misread her.
Of course, a lot of the blame for Sirius' death lay with Harry. Maybe if he'd put more effort into Occlumency, or thought just a little bit more or if he'd only listened to Hermione who tried to tell him it could be a trap. Most of the time when he was awake he tried to push that guilt to the back of his mind, but it was always there eating away at him. If only, if only, if only...
And then there was Sirius. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't help but blame Sirius a little too. Harry had been told over and over how reckless he'd been that night, but Sirius had been just as reckless, leaving the safety of headquarters to break into the Ministry. If he had lived then he might have been arrested and sent back to Azkaban, or worse, given the Dementor's Kiss. After successfully getting into the Ministry he had continued to act as though he were out for a summer stroll, laughing in Bellatrix's face instead of taking her seriously and when he hadn't given her his full attention she had delivered the hex that sent him through the veil.
At dinner time Petunia brought him a plate of food that he scarfed down in no time. He stayed staring out the window until it got too dark to see at which time Vernon came to let him use the bathroom and take a shower. Afterwards he was locked back in. Harry knew he could have run during those minutes of freedom, but there was almost no chance he'd make it out the front door. Besides Hedwig would return soon and he'd be out of here, there was no point in angering his uncle in the meantime.
That night he went to bed feeling more depressed than he had that morning. Just before he drifted off it suddenly occurred to him that he had just spent his entire birthday locked up.
The next day passed in much the same way except that Hedwig returned during the afternoon. Harry immediately sent her off again with a letter to the Order, but not before she fussed all over him, gently rubbing her beak against his bruised cheek. As he watched her soar out the window he wondered once again where his OWL results had gotten to. There was no reason he could think of for them to be this late.
Later that evening found Harry lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. He didn't even blink when the door was unlocked and yanked open. "We're going out," Vernon barked.
Harry remained motionless. The Dursleys never took him anywhere if they could help it, there was no reason to think this would be the exception.
"Against my better judgement, you're coming too," Vernon said bitterly.
Harry sat up quickly. He would actually get to spend a few hours outside the house? In any other circumstances he would have been thrilled, but to spend an evening in the presence of the Dursleys was an excruciating kind of torture.
"Your aunt thinks you can't be trusted on your own and I'm inclined to agree with her. We all remember what happened last year when we went out and left you on your own, we came home and found you gone. Well you can think again, boy because you're not leaving my sight."
"Fine," Harry said sullenly.
"Put on some decent clothes and come downstairs," Vernon ordered and he was gone, leaving the door wide open.
Over the last two days Harry had felt stifled here in his room and desperate for a little freedom, but now, looking at the open door, he was reluctant to leave his room and unwilling to inflict the Dursleys upon himself.
He took his time going downstairs, not wanting his uncle to believe he was at all cowed after his days of imprisonment. He was still wearing his overly baggy jeans and a t-shirt that had what looked to be a curry stain down the front.
"I told you to change your clothes," Vernon growled. Petunia had turned up her nose at him as soon as he'd walked in the room, either offended by his baggy clothes or his mere presence, Harry wasn't sure which.
"All my clothes used to belong to Dudley," Harry pointed out. "Unless you want me to wear my school robes this is the best I have." That wasn't strictly true, but he wasn't prepared to tell them he'd used some of the money his parents had left him to buy a few decent things for himself. That would only result in their demanding he turn the money over to them.
As usual the mere mention of Harry's school especially in combination with the word 'robes' had Vernon's face turning a mottled purple colour.
Petunia sniffed disdainfully. "Leave him, Vernon. No one will be looking at him anyway." She patted Dudley on the head. "This is our Dudders night and he won't be allowed to ruin it."
Harry suppressed a groan. Any activity in Dudley's honour was bound to leave Harry bored out of his mind and that was only if he was lucky.
He reluctantly followed the Dursleys out to the car and climbed in next to Dudley who was practically jumping up and down in his seat with excitement. He was beginning to get a stirring of curiosity about their destination, but he refused to ask. The journey only took about ten minutes in which Petunia gushed endlessly about how proud she was of her 'precious little angel.'
They got out of the car outside what seemed to be some kind of leisure centre. Harry pulled a face. What sort of activity could possibly bring the Dursleys here and get Dudley, of all people, so excited?
He got his answer seconds later. A banner hung above the door proclaiming a boxing tournament. Harry groaned quietly to himself. There was no way he wanted to sit and watch his cousin pounding on people in a ring while people cheered. He'd seen quite enough of that for one lifetime. He was fortunate not to be heard by his uncle who was too busy beaming with pride as Dudley strutted ahead of them.
An hour later and it was even worse than Harry had expected. Dudley had fought in one of the first matches and won and would soon be beginning his second. Harry couldn't remember ever feeling quite this bored, not even in History of Magic and that was saying something. The worst part was seeing his cousin wearing little more than a pair of baggy shorts and a tank top, an image that was sure to replace his normal nightmares for weeks to come.
"That's my boy!" Vernon yelled as Dudley stepped back into the ring grinning widely. His opponent was about two inches taller than him, but weighed far less. By the way he was nervously eyeing Dudley he probably wouldn't put up much of a fight.
Petunia screamed shrill words of encouragement that Harry tried to block out as he prayed that someone would beat Dudley soon so they could go home. That might actually be something worth seeing.
"Wotcha Harry," a voice whispered close to his ear.
Harry whipped round, one hand straying to the pocket in which he'd hidden his wand. He couldn't see anything, but that voice sounded very familiar. "Tonks?"
"Yeah, it's me," the voice replied. "Think you can get away from tubby and the horse?"
Harry glanced surreptitiously at his uncle who was now wholly absorbed in the fight and not paying the slightest attention to Harry. It was the best opportunity he'd had to sneak away all night. Silently he stood and edged away, keeping a careful eye on Vernon in case he happened to turn around.
He didn't and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he managed to break free of the crowd and fall into the corridor. "Tonks?" he called lowly.
"Right here." There was a swish of cloth and Nymphadora Tonks appeared from underneath an invisibility cloak. Today she was sporting her usual pink hair, but her eyes were an astonishing violet. Sometimes Harry wondered if she were a bit colour blind. "Come on, Moody's waiting for us outside."
"Wait," Harry called after her. "How do I know you're really Tonks?"
Tonks sighed. "Does this help?" She squinted slightly so she was looking at the end of her nose which promptly changed into a pig snout.
Harry grinned. "That'll do."
He followed her through the corridors and back out into the car park. "He should be here any moment," Tonks muttered. "Remus went to get your stuff and Moody's up on the roof doing surveillance. He wanted to bring more guards, but Dumbledore talked him out of it. It's not like a whole group of us could have fit under the cloak to sneak in there and get you out."
Harry nodded. "You got my letter then."
"Yeah," Tonks smiled. "We figured it was out of character for the Dursleys to want to take you anywhere and we knew from watching the house that they were lying. The original plan was to wait for them to go out so we could sneak you out of the house, we never thought they would take you along."
"I think they were expecting you to show up the moment they left. That's why they brought me."
Tonks studied him closely. "What's that?" she asked suddenly, pointing at his cheek.
Harry tensed, remembering his bruise. "It's nothing," he said quickly. "I, er, just walked into a door."
"Why'd they go so crazy anyway?" Tonks enquired eyeing him sceptically. Harry was sure she suspected the truth, but at least she'd dropped it.
"Aunt Petunia told Uncle Vernon about the blood protection and he flipped," Harry told her. "He wanted me to stay there forever just to make sure they stay safe."
Tonks shot him a sympathetic look. "I'll tell Dumbledore. We'll work something out before next summer." She glanced around quickly before pulling out her wand and pointing it at Harry's cheek. "Episkey," she muttered and hid her wand up her sleeve.
"I'll be seventeen next summer," Harry complained. "I don't see why I have to go back there."
"If it were up to me I'd make sure you didn't have to, but as it is..."
"Yeah, I know," Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore thinks it best that I go back there."
"We just want you alive, Harry," Tonks said gently.
"Which would be a much easier job if we didn't have to contend with amateur aurors who stand out in the open making the person they're supposed to be protecting an open target."
Tonks flushed as she turned to face Mad-Eye Moody. "We were talking."
"Your job is to protect Potter, not be his friend," Moody snapped. "While you were standing here talking anyone could have snuck up on you and you would both be dead before you could draw your wand. Then where would we be?"
"Sorry," Tonks muttered.
Moody grunted and turned to Harry. "Come along, Potter. Stick close."
Harry fell in behind Moody with Tonks close behind him. She made no effort to talk to him now, concentrating on their surroundings with her wand held close to her body to hide it from the view of passing muggles.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked quietly.
"As soon as we're out of sight we'll be taking a portkey to the Weasley's place," Moody said briskly.
Harry's heart soared. He had been half worried that he would only be moved from one prison to another, this time in the form of Sirius' old family home. He almost preferred the Dursleys to that option. He didn't know if he could have handled walking into that dismal house, knowing that Sirius wasn't there and would never be there again.
Moody stopped behind the building, his magical eye scanning the surrounding area for anyone who happened to be watching and pulled a ladle from beneath his cloak. Harry could only assume it was the portkey.
"Alright then, Potter, you know what to do," Moody said gruffly.
Reluctantly, because he'd never learned to trust portkeys, Harry reached out one hand to touch the ladle. Opposite him Tonks did the same. A moment later the three of them disappeared.