Disclaimer: I don't own this.

Chapter 4. Letters, Looks, and Plans

Harry allowed Blazes to teleport him to the fringes of the village only after the fire bird made the trip solo to insure they wouldn't be seen. The sensation of disappearing and reappearing in a flash of flame was oddly comfortable. He strengthened his glamours before dismissing his bond-mate to deliver his letters.

"Remember: DO. NOT. BE. SEEN. The last thing we need right now is a bunch of noisy old wizards searching for a seer with a phoenix familiar."

I am not an idiot, Fledgling. Try not to get yourself killed while I'm gone. He flashed away before Harry had a chance at a comeback.

The young man shook his head and followed the path the short distance to the village. He emerged in a park and looked around. At this late hour there was no one around.

He could see a cluster of buildings not far off and decided to find food to go so he could get a motel. He was never so thankful for his over-preparedness until that moment. He still had useable money! He carried money from 35 different countries, including three lost to Voldemort. He jogged quietly down a sidewalk thrilled at the idea of people. Innocents. I haven't seen an innocent in years.

The first few streets he passed seemed to be housing, so he stayed on the sidewalk and headed towards the center of the town. It took nearly an hour to find a corner store that looked open. He walked in, surprised to see nobody at the counter. He quickly found several bags of trail mix and jerky, and then raided a fridge for three bottles of water and lemonade. He piled his purchases on the counter and looked around for a worker.

"Hello? ...You guys are open right?" for a brief moment he panicked, sure this was a hallucination, and there were no people.

"Oh! Sorry dearie! I didn't hear you pull up." A plump elderly lady bustled in from the back and slipped around the counter.

"I walked. It's ok." He forced himself to calm.

"Walked! I've never seen you around here. Are you new in town? I'm Wilma Thatcher, my husband and I own this little stop. What's your name." she eyed his threadbare clothes and scruffy appearance.

"I'm – lost. I'm not really from around here. I was hiking and got turned around badly." He shivered not knowing whether to give a name. "I've been out for weeks."

"Oh you poor thing! Honestly? God bless you child. No, no don't worry about the cost. This one's on me. Do you need to use the phone?"

"Actually, I was looking for a motel. I wanted a good night sleep. I don't think I could handle a call; my friends probably think I'm dead." He ran a hand through his hair and put on an exhausted expression.

"But surly your family must be worried."

"It's ok, m'am, my family is all gone. My friends can wait a few more hours. I don't think I can stay awake much longer." He gave a pathetic smile and a half shrug.

"Oh! Oh! Well if you're sure. There's a little motel just three blocks down on Red Street. You can't miss it. They are open 24 hours." The anxious old woman fussed leading him to the door and pointing.

"Thank you m'am. I appreciate it."

XXXxxx

The Motel room was like heaven. It was filthy and smelled like sex and sweat, but it was smoke free, it lacked the smell of fear and death that he had grown accustomed to, and best of all it wasn't equipped with steal shutters or a bomb alarm bell. For someone who talks to gods, my idea of heaven is so warped. He chuckled to himself as he collapsed on the bed. He kicked off his shoes and then sighed pulled them close and tied the shoelaces to his pack strap.

The one bag of trail mix and bottle of water were enough to tide him over he decided as he let himself drift to sleep. Wards flared to life around the sleeping wizard, guarding his rest. Harry was far to accustomed to these protections to sleep without them.

Four hours later he returned to his constant alert state. He grinned as the smells and sights remained unchanged. He grabbed his bag and headed to the bathroom. Shower! Oh yes. It must have been ages since he last had time for a real shower.

He groaned out loud as he stepped into the hot water. He scrubbed every inch of his skin until it was pink and rubbed the shampoo vigorously into his hair. He stayed under the warm water until it went cold before he got out. Harry ran a hand towel over his body trying to dry himself, and then he stood in front of the mirror.

Harry had long since released his glamours, and he stared. It had literally been months since he looked at a mirror, if not longer, without glamours. He was short as ever, he knew, standing at 5foot 5. His hair had changed drastically. Worn at a shaggy length, it didn't stick up like it once did; the raven locks were now sprinkled with grey and the bangs on his left side were completely white. It was a combination of stress and raw magic use he knew, but it made him feel old. I have seen far too much, and it left a mark. Harry forced himself to move on. His face was unrecognizable. The entire left side of his face was a criss-cross of scar tissue. The silver net falling, flesh burning… He shook himself out of the memory, pushing his bangs up. Unless you looked for it, you would never see the lightning bolt. It was covered at the cross of two other scars. The twenty year old let his bangs drop. His green eyes no longer hid behind glasses. He had Lasik surgery when he was 18 to eliminate that particular liability. The right side of his face was not completely unscathed; one long scar cut from his eyebrow to his cheek bone. I still can't believe the eye survived that one.

His throat was relatively normal with only a single thin scar across the jugular. He was broad-shouldered with definite muscle tone. His body was covered in burns and scars. Most were from his torture; don't go there, but others he could pick out from different battles. There was a large silvery scar over his right shoulder that marked his wolf-bite, a nasty burn along his hip from a dragon, a thick mark over the opposite thigh from a sword fight in the Alps…

The young man shook his head and pulled out a change of clothes. He pulled on American army pants (long ago dyed a grey color), a black long sleeved shirt, and a fishing vest. Pockets are amazing. Next he pulled out weapons. He strapped a small hand gun to his shin, slipped a pocket knife into his pants pocket, and finally strapped his wand to his forearm.

Feeling much better, he padded barefoot back to the bedroom. He sat at the cheap desk and pulled out his journal to plan.

Nov 2 1981,

So I am a Watcher now. I will have to find out what that means. I need to read that handbook soon, and make sure I am not in for any more surprises.

Find and destroy horcruxes.

Settle into a place where I can know as soon as LV returns.

Make sure Sirius gets out.

Keep identity secret.

Horcruxes: diary, locket, diadem, dagger, cup, snake, Voldy

Diary: Malfoy manor: unknown hiding place

Locket: Grimmauld place

Diadem: maze: must wait for blue moon

Cup: peak of Mt. Everest

Dagger: chasm in Atlantic, between Cape Verde Islands and Caribbean.

Snake: unknown

Voldemort: unknown: Albania? 1991?

Cup will be easiest to retrieve.

Diadem need to research moon phases.

Locket I must wait for Sirius, then somehow befriend him and convince him to open a family home he hates, do-able.

Diary, must receive an invitation to Malfoy Manor: possible, need more contacts in Brittan.

Dagger, need to get in touch with s sea merfolk tribe, technology won't help this time.

This will take time. I need a passport at least. An apparition license. For that matter, I need an identity.

Harry set down the pen and rubbed his eyes.

Any luck fledgling? I see you've cleaned up at least.

"Hey Blazes. That took longer than I expected. Did you have trouble?"

Just that that irritating bird wanted to know why I was hiding myself from Dumbledore, and it took a bit to convince him not to tell on me.

"Fawkes? I didn't even think about his phoenix. Sorry about that. All the letters made it then?"

That's what I said didn't I? You're done your planning then?

"As much as I can be. I need to figure out how to get a few things, mostly identifications, and some kind of background story."

I think Destiny left you some papers in that book. She was all giggly about it.

"Oh hell no." He rummaged through his bag and pulled out the manual. Sure enough, as he opened it a packet of papers fell out.

Harry sighed and opened it. The first thing he pulled out was a birth certificate, then OWL and NEWT scores, a passport, a work visa for America, a membership card to the IWDA (international wizarding duelists association), a werewolf registration card, and a three page paper he didn't recognize. Pulling the Birth cirtificate out he examined it closed.

"Bloody Hell!! She did not!" Harry swore in seven different languages before he was cut off.

What is wrong chosen?

"My fucking name! Kitten Rayne Gregory! Kitten!" he growled.

Oh, I get it. Blazes teased with a chirping laugh. You're a cosmic joke.

"Not funny. I'm gonna kill those goddesses. Of all the aliases! Kitten." He moaned. "Forget my animagis form, I'm a friggin werewolf named 'Kitten'."

You think Merlin wanted to be named after a little bird?

"A hawk. Merlin was named after a hawk. As in a predator with wings. Kitten implies cute, cuddly, and fluffiness. How am I supposed to…? Ugh." He pulled a face.

Blazes watched as his bonded finally acted like a young man, for the first time since they'd met. He gave a tinkling laugh as Harry resumed his cursing. I had no idea you were fluent in so many languages.

"I actually speak four languages fluently, and can manage in six others. I can read in thirteen languages. It sortta comes with the whole General-slash-savior-of-the-world-slash-international-spy-slash-he-who- keeps-the-big-secrets. I think I was the elected official ruler for eight different countries at one point. At least before people stopped associating with countries." His voice trailed off, and he slipped into thought.

Cheery Fledgling. Or should I call you Kitten now?

"Do and I'll eat you for supper bird." He laughed, and then looked surprised at the sound. "In all seriousness, we should get started. We can probably collect the cup this week. I need to check the regulations on international apparition, but I think I should be able to visit Mt. Everest without any hold ups. You wouldn't by any chance know when the next blue moon is, would you?"

In which time zone?

"Central European Time I believe, Sweden."

We had one two nights ago if you recall. A full moon on Halloween is a Blue moon. The next will be in two years, July or August I believe…

"Damn. It was mid-August in my time line. That's okay. I can wait two years. Still that leaves me with only two horcruxes to try for in that time. The others can't be reached yet. Let's hope they listen and give Sirius a trial, then that makes four. Four out of seven isn't a bad start."

Let's hope. Are you ready to get out of here Fledgling?

"Yeah, let's get going. First stop: London."

XXXxxx

In Scotland an old wizard in fluorescent robes sat reading a letter.

Albus Dumbledore,

I am aware that you are a meddling old man. You are not yet aware of me however, do not presume otherwise. I am a Seer, so you would do well to heed my advice. You want to hear what young Sirius Black has to say. Do not let him be taken to prison without trial.

It was signed with an odd device that resembled a crystal ball.

"I do not like this Fawkes. Not at all." He sucked broodingly on a lemon drop.

XXXxxx

In an old cottage in the Black Forest, a young werewolf opened a mysterious envelope.

Remus Lupin,

Not all is as it appears. Put Black on the stand. He must go to trial.

It was signed with an odd symbol. A complex crystal ball that he noticed rested in snake coils. He shivered, resolving to show it to Dumbledore.

XXXxxx

In a secure location Mad-Eye Moody sat running analysis after analysis on a harmless-looking sheet of parchment. Finally satisfied he approached it, opening it magically and leaning over so he didn't touch it.

As if anyone would think about hexing a letter to you Alastor,

I formally request trial for Sirius Orion Black.

You know you want to hear him under vetraserum as well. I am most certain you can get him to agree…

It was signed with a device that the Auror studied with intense care. A seer's mark. It was the standard crystal ball, personalized with an odd smoke pattern and a coiled snake base.

XXXxxx

In an undisclosed Manor, the Longbottems sat eating breakfast. Alice watched as her husband frowned and lifted a letter.

"That's not from the Order." She murmured worriedly.

"No." Frank opened the letter cautiously.

The war is not over yet. You are still a target. Be cautious for your son's sake, if not your own. There is a price on your heads: dead, alive or otherwise insane. His followers think you know something. Be cautious.

There was no signature.

"Frank? You look pale, what is it?"

"A warning. They may still be after us. I don't know who sent it, but it seems we have an ally."

.

.

.

.

A/N: And that's it. Happy Halloween! Please review, this gets better.