Disclaimer: I'm not even going to say it I would hope that all of you are smart enough to know that if I were J.K. Rowlings I would be far too busy tormenting the characters in my book to be writing fanfiction of if you weren't well then I guess that would make you Dudley wouldn't it?
Authors note it has officially been two weeks since my last post which was buried almost as soon as it was put up, by all the other people posting their stories anyway the only reason this is being posted as soon as it is, is because I got it back from my second beta way sooner than usual and I feel bad at all of you had to wait so long for number three. Come on guys don't look at me like that. Now you know very well that you wouldn't enjoy my story nearly half as much if it weren't for everything they do so be gracious and enjoy.
Chapter Four
A Great Escape
By Empathicallychosen
betaed by Aerahead1980 & Fae child19
"Of some forty families I have been able to observe, I know hardly four in which the parents do not act in such a way that nothing would be more desirable for the child than to escape their influence"-Andre Gide
(o)(o)(o)
Harry sat in the darkness of his cramped cupboard watching the exposed light bulb as it swayed back and forth on its chain. His punishment had ended hours ago and his aunt and uncle had just tossed him into the cupboard as carelessly as they would a broken vacuum. He didn't know when he would be allowed to enjoy the freedom of the outside world. Would he only be imprisoned here for a few days... weeks... a month? Would he be allowed to eat? When and how much? No, Harry didn't know the answer to any of these questions, although he suspected that he wouldn't like the answers when he received them. Nevertheless, Harry couldn't bring himself to care. As a matter of fact, he couldn't bring himself to do anything. He just sat on his cot, allowing the broken spring to press into his battered back. It was painful, but his emotional grievances were far more painful than anything his mammoth of an uncle could subject him to.
"They lied to me," he muttered darkly for the thousandth time. "They promised to protect me and they lied!"
Harry just couldn't fathom what had happened to him. He didn't want to believe it, but every time he managed to trick himself into believing the attack was all just a bad dream, the excruciating pain of his mutilated body would force him back to the grim reality of his lost childhood. Soon questions of 'How', became questions of 'Why'.
His grandfather had seemed so outraged by Harry's abuse as a child. James, Lily, Sirius and Remus had all promised time and time again that this would never happen. Then again, perhaps Harry should have considered the source more thoroughly. After all, Lily, James and Sirius had all grown up and conspired with a very dark wizard to kill him. Lying to him as a little boy was definitely not the most heinous offense. Nevertheless, he had trusted them and they had betrayed him. They had all betrayed him. Even his grandmother.
Even before Harry had met the Potters, he had always been extremely careful about whom to trust and before now he would have considered himself a good judge of character. Of all the questions running through his mind, one seemed to overpower the others and constantly returned to the forefront of his brooding; How could I have been so easily fooled?
Harry racked his brains, desperate to find a sign he may have missed in the past, but there was nothing. His memories taunted him. The more he tried to find something that would justify hating the missing members of his family, the more Harry ached for them. His mind instantly floated back to all the times while he was with them when he had gotten hurt, as was common with young boys, especially the ones who had a knack for finding their way into troubling or otherwise life-threatening situations. Any self-respecting teenager in their right mind would have washed their hands clean of Harry after a certain point. Yet his mother never did. Lily would always do her best to comfort him, day or night, no matter how tired she was.
For most of his life, Harry had struggled to quash his desire to have a mother just like all the other children around him. Which was rather difficult, considering that poor Harry was subjected to excessive displays of motherly affection almost daily when he watched his Aunt Petunia fawning over Dudley. Despite the challenges, Harry managed to suppress his wish for a mother quite well. Except in times like these, when he had been hurt so badly that all he wanted was his mother to come and tell him that everything would be alright. Harry felt the tears streaming steadily down his face and wiped them away angrily.
Outside there was a sudden roar of thunder. Harry was not concerned. Unexpected and abrupt changes in weather were not unusual to him. On the contrary, Harry was remarkably used to them by now. How could he not be when his best friend was an elemental wizard?
Harry simply assumed that Ron had lost control of his temper. This was also something that was normal to Harry. He had known Ron for most of his life. He knew that Ron was very passionate about everything, but along with his passion the fiery redhead also had a very short fuse.
Given their life experiences, it was only natural for him to assume that Dudley and his goons somehow cornered Ron and were now enjoying a game of 'pin the tail on the freak', which was likely the reason for the storm. Knowing there was nothing he could do to help his friend, Harry rolled over for a fitful night's sleep, wishing bitterly that Ron could just zap them all with a lightning bolt, just once. Harry had no idea that the little rainstorm would cause such big trouble.
Harry awoke quite suddenly when he heard the footsteps on the walkway. He couldn't understand why the Dursleys had come home from their party so soon until he heard the heavy pattering of rain above him. Harry moaned loudly. He wasn't ready to face reality, not yet. He wished he could escape to somewhere far, far away and never look back, but he knew that Professor Dumbledore had Harry, Ron and Hermione in Little Whinging for a reason and no one in their right mind would dare go against the elderly Headmaster.
This left Harry in a hopeless predicament. There was nothing he could do to keep his aunt and uncle at bay and he knew it. The tiny click of the front door lock made Harry's heart drop in his stomach. All too soon, the house was filled with the sound of Dudley's wailing.
"Y-YOU S-S-SAID IT WAS MY SPECIAL D-DAY! YOU SAID EVERYTHING WOULD BE PERFECT! YOU DON'T LOVE ME ANYMORE," Dudley lamented.
The ground shook, which was most likely due to the fact that Dudley had stamped an enormous foot in protest. Harry groaned knowing that another tantrum was about to begin. Harry groaned even louder when he realized the more upset Dudley was the more unbearable Harry's punishment would be later. Hopefully, if Harry was lucky, Aunt Petunia would give in quickly. Praying for intervention, Harry strained his ears to hear what was going on beyond his cupboard door.
From what he could make out, Uncle Vernon was not listening to Dudley's tantrum as he continued his conversation with Aunt Marge. Harry knew that this would probably be a costly mistake on his uncle's part. He couldn't imagine Dudley was receiving the lack of attention very well. As predicted, there was a loud crash as something was smashed to pieces in the hall.
"Now Popkins, please settle down," said Aunt Petunia tremulously.
"NO," Dudley sounded as loudly as he could, while forcing fake tears to stream down his face.
"MY BIRTHDAY IS RUINED AND NOBODY CARES! YOU DON'T CARE! YOU DON'T LOVE ME ANYMORE!"
The wailing and smashing of objects continued until Dudley was promised another, more extravagant birthday celebration, with all the works. He was also promised so many expensive gifts that Harry found himself wondering how much money Uncle Vernon really made. Surely it couldn't be enough to keep up with everything they were buying. But somehow all the bills always ended up being paid so he supposed it didn't matter. Harry shook his head and reminded himself that he had more pressing things to worry about.
He may not have known how Uncle Vernon paid for his lifestyle, but Harry was certain that when Uncle Vernon received the bill for the wasted party his uncle would not be the only one that paid. As they passed his cupboard door he heard Aunt Marge's booming voice as she suggested they write a letter to the television station demanding the weatherman's resignation for ruining her poor Neffy-poo's big event. To which Uncle Vernon replied he would make certain that someone was punished for this disaster. Harry gulped; it was going to be a very rough night.
Twenty minutes later, after Dudley was supplied with enough sugary snacks to put the magical sweets shop Honeydukes to shame and Aunt Marge was so sottish she couldn't remember the name of her own precious pit-bull, Harry was jerked out of his semi-unconsciousness by the unlatching of his cupboard door. Harry's heart raced with fear as he recognized his uncle's towering silhouette looming in the doorway.
Harry suddenly felt as though he had swallowed a large peach pit. He could smell the alcohol on Uncle Vernon's breath even at a distance and he knew what was coming. Harry shut his eyes. He didn't need to watch. Braced for impact, Harry waited, but nothing happened.
Taken by surprise, Harry tentatively opened his eyes and found a glistening barrier between him and his uncle. The thing that amazed Harry the most was that he was quite certain the magical protection had not been cast by the young wizard, but by something else entirely. He had his suspicions who... or what was protecting him.
Tiramisu... she came for me. Harry sighed, a wondrous sense of relief washing over him before the nagging doubt wormed its way back into his mind. Then why hasn't she shown herself?
Harry shook his head; unfortunately he was unable to rid himself of his confusion. He was grateful his uncle had been stopped, yet somehow Harry was also feeling quite hurt and abandoned.
Once again Harry found an absurd number of questions running through his mind and yet again he was hard pressed for the answers. Why is Tiramisu protecting me now? What good does it do when the damage is already done? Where was she when I really needed her? Can't she see that Uncle Vernon is going to blame me for her magic?
Uncle Vernon stumbled back in surprise. Harry expected that his uncle would be enraged, but once again he was astounded by the turn of events. Rather than flying off the handle, Uncle Vernon seemed to decide that the shimmering barricade was an illusion brought on by having too much to drink. With a much-regretted shake of his head, Uncle Vernon turned and headed for the sofa, warning Harry that he would be back to deal with the boy later.
Harry shivered, wondering how long his grandparent's house elf would stand guard over him. Was she the protection Aidan had failed to deliver?
Though Harry rarely admitted such things, he knew that his aunt and uncle weren't completely stupid. One of them was bound to realize magic was being done in their house sooner or later. Harry tremble slightly. What would be the consequences of the aid when Uncle Vernon became sober again? Suppressing a second shiver, Harry came to a somewhat depressing decision. He was on his own.
Harry knew he had no choice, but still the boy couldn't help but have second thoughts about his decision. He was in danger that was true... On the other hand, having this familiar presence was oddly comforting. Harry didn't know if he was ready to pull away from the only comfort he had felt in nearly nine years. Even if he wanted to, losing a house elf, especially one as clever as Tiramisu, would be difficult. Harry would need help.
Ron sat on Hermione's bed, watching as she paced back and forth, working herself into a frenzy. After several long minutes of listening to her ramble on and on about how irresponsible he had been, Ron turned to look out Hermione's window at the now clear sky. He had apologized profusely for the disaster, but it was no use. Hermione was already in one of those moods and he knew from many years of experience there was no arguing with her now. Personally, Ron thought Hermione was drastically overreacting. Dudley and his goons were using him as a football for pity's sake. It's not as though Ron had meant for it to happen, it just did.
"Well, I hope you're happy now," snapped Hermione angrily.
"Yeah, yeah Hermione. I am happy. Those blockheads deserved way more than they got," Ron retorted hotly.
"Yes, they deserved to be punished," Hermione grudgingly admitted, whipping around to face Ron.
"Then what are you getting so worked up over," Ron demanded.
"Did you ever stop to think that if you stooped to their level then you'd become the blockhead? Honestly, I don't know why I call you my friend. You're such a moron," Hermione screamed, chucking the Encyclopedia Britannica at him.
It flew all the way across the room, narrowly missing Ron's face by inches. Ron stared at her disbelievingly. Hermione, of course, had called him a moron on countless occasions. It never bothered him. By now it was more like a term of endearment. The thing that surprised Ron about Hermione's outburst was that she had thrown something at him. No matter how angry they were at each other or how foolish Ron's actions had been, Hermione had never thrown anything harder than a pillow at him. Also surprising was her weapon of choice. Hermione "bookworm" Granger had just hurled a book across the room at him.
Books were practically sacred in the Granger household. He knew she had to be really angry to risk getting into trouble with her mother and the wise thing to do would have been to back off, but he didn't care. Ron was just about to shout his protest at Hermione when he realized she was shaking.
Immediately, he stood up and rushed to her side. He didn't have to ask what was the matter, because he already knew. He knew that Harry was in trouble. He knew that Harry was terrified. He knew that if Vernon got the chance, he was probably going to kill Harry and he knew he had to do something. After all, as much as Ron hated to admit it, the ruined birthday party was all his fault.
"Where is Moony? Doesn't he know we need him," Hermione sobbed, falling to her knees.
"Forget him," Ron snapped. "We don't need any of them! We'll do this ourselves... "
Hermione looked up at him, stunned by his cold demeanor, "What are you talking about? What will we do ourselves? What can we do?"
Ron laughed. For a genius, Hermione certainly had a lot of questions. Ron paced around the room thinking fast. Occasionally he would stop his pacing and pick up a book or start digging through the papers on Hermione's desk, which of course earned him several suspicious glances from the aforementioned genius. Clearly, Hermione thought Ron was losing his mind. Ron, too, was beginning to wonder if he had all his faculties in order. At the very least, Ron knew that he had to be delirious for even thinking what he was about to suggest. He didn't really want to do it... it just seemed so cowardly. Unfortunately, they were running out of options. While he was trying to find the words to suggest his plan without sounding completely mental, Ron found himself fiddling with the map of Surrey he had clutched in his fist. Ron watched Hermione as she watched him, trying to determine her thought process before he blurted out his plan.
Hermione was quite still, she barely blinked as she watched Ron wring her map beneath his fingers. Her eyes widened with horror as comprehension dawned on her. Even though Ron was sure he was about to receive another lecture, a sense of calm washed over him. Words couldn't express how grateful he was he would not have to say the words aloud. Under different circumstances, Ron would have found it amusing that Hermione's mouth was hanging open like a codfish, but a strange tension rose between them as silence filled the room, then at last Hermione spoke, or rather bellowed.
"Ronald Weasley, you can't be serious," Ron was about to make a rather overused Sirius pun, but Hermione cut across him as soon as he had opened his mouth. "I don't want to hear it! I can't believe you actually want us to run away! Oh, I can see that Gryffindor spirit shining through now... very brave Ron, really!"
Ron knew Hermione was just emotional at the moment and that she would likely be very sorry they had gotten into this argument, still Hermione's suggestion that Ron was being a coward hit him hard and despite himself he felt rather irritated with her.
"Oh, I suppose it would be more courageous of us to stick around here so that Dudley can kick the living daylights out of us as soon as his father finishes Harry off?"
"Ron," Hermione began apologetically. "I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry. It's just you know as well as I do we'd never make it past the front gate."
The temptation to remark about Hermione's pessimistic attitude was strong, but Ron forced himself to hold his tongue. Instead he turned back to Hermione's bed, staring up at the posters that littered Hermione's walls and ceiling. While other girls plastered their walls with pictures of the latest boy band of the week, Hermione's room was littered with blown up pictures of Cairo and other exotic places. Whenever anyone would ask them what their plans for the future were, Harry, Ron and Hermione would always reply that all they wanted was to be as far away from Little Whinging as was humanly possible. "Anywhere but here." That saying had become their mantra and now that the time had come to escape, Hermione was hesitating. If Ron were to be honest with himself, so was he and he couldn't understand it.
"Why," he asked finally, fingering the picture of the Cologne Cathedral gingerly.
"Ron, Albus Dumbledore is the one who sent us here. He's probably got people watching us right now. There's no way we can escape him," said Hermione, clearly pleading with him to think logically.
"Maybe not, but its a good way to get their attention," said Ron, turning around to face her with a mischievous gleam in his eye.
Authors note: ah yes another cliffhanger, and shorter chapter too I'm sure you all love me right about now but at least I've posted. Anyway I'll be out of town is weekend visiting an old friend, (much to the dismay of my spoiled Golden retriever who has abandonment issues,) and it would make me really happy to home & find my inbox flooded by reviews. I know what you're thinking after another cliffhanger you've got to be kidding us but just do it anyway please!
Secondly I received a review and as I reply to all my reviews even the anonymous ones I'd like to take some time to say thank you to Paradise. Yeah Lily James and Sirius have escaped Azkaban buy you won't see them directly for a while and yes the Dursleys are indeed very stupid in fact do you think about it Dudley never really stood a chance
Anyway tbc
next chapter Remus reappears in Private Drive will Harry, Ron and Hermione be there or won't will he be too late.
Review please, please
