The Escape
Cooperation by Fairywm and Smargden
Smargden for storyline
Fairywm for the English writing
Thanks again for all your reviews, sorry I couldn't reply, ffn is glitching. The street directions in London, are provide to you by Smargden. Since I haven't a clue.
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AN: Review replies : by Smargden:
/Noble Korhedron /"/You didn't kill Hedwig, did you?/"/ -No, we did not kill Hedwig.
/DarkRavie /"/It's an excellent read and/"/ I, 'Smargden', am a reader, then I write the way I like to read. Thank you.
/Bruto22 /"/not sure why you had 3 chapters when they all would've fit into one intro chapter./"/ It's me Smargden - As I did write it back in 2009 it was a form of rebellion against very short chapters in few stories I read at the time, and keeping them like they are.
/Thundramon /"/I don't care who dies so long as it is not Harry or his pairing. I hope this isn't slash though. /"/ As far as I (Smargden) can remember of the story Harry and his partner do not die in the story, and it's not slash.
AN-end:
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Chapter 4 - The Revenge
Because of where the pain had been located when he drank the adoption potion, Sal knew that his body, his face, and possibly his magic had changed.Sure, he was still a boy, but he looked completely different, darker hair and grey eyes. He felt a little sad about that. He was now a Metamorphmagus, and he was delighted, because now he would never need Polyjuice to disguise himself. He'd practice more on that later, for now he simply made his darker hair longer and fuller, to further confuse anyone who might see him
Knowing he wouldn't be recognized, he made his way to the flat that Sikkso told him about. First, he went through the Leaky Cauldron, and then he took a taxi to Kings Cross. To throw off anyone looking for him, he said the address loud and clear before he slid into the back seat and let himself be driven away.
At Kings Cross, he made his way to The Underground, or as it was also known, The Tube. Looking at the schedules and maps, he tried to find the most unobtrusive way get to Highbury and Islington. It might be easier to walk than take the subway. However, taking The Tube would confuse any wizard following him. With that in mind, he purchased a ticket and got on the train.
At Highbury and Islington, he chose to walk up the great Upper Street south, but it got boring. So, he turned right when he came to Islington Park Street. He had a goal in mind, so he hurried further south on Liverpool Road, until he came to Richmond Avenue. That's where he turned right again, until he came to Richmond Crescent. It was a small street that went in an arc, on the north side of Barnard Park. And finally, he came upon Richmond Crescent and found number ten and went to the stairs that would lead to the top floor.
Before he climbed the first step, he read the note he got from Gringotts. "Potter's private London flat is on the third floor of number ten Richmond Crescent". It looked like an ordinary staircase, but it was spelled. If he had not read, or heard, the address just in front of the staircase - or knew the secret from a visit before- he would have been compelled to leave the building and start it all over again - and then would have had to wait five hours before he tried again.
The ward would protect the top floor from intruders, looters and stragglers, yet not affect those who lived there, or were invited. All others immediately felt the need to do something else, when they approached the bottom of the top floor stairs. The higher up they managed to get, the worse impact. It could include serious medical effects if they got to the top of the stairs.
It wasn't the Fidelius, per se, since the floor was not invisible. It simply prevented uninvited visitors. Sikkso had given him an old key, which had almost never been used. Thank Merlin, it still was a perfect fit for the lock.
Harry finally had something he could call his own. He could've had it all the while, but instead Mr. Dumble kept it a secret from him. The teen fumed that he was one of the richest wizards alive but went around in Dudley's castoffs. That was going to change and change a lot.
He thought back to when Vernon had spoken to him after they come through the door at number 4 Privet Drive.
- FLASHBACK -
"BOY! There are going to be some new rules this summer," Vernon almost yelled as soon as the door had closed behind them. The large man that he called uncle continued speaking before Harry even had time to blink. "You will stay in your room when you are not called to help your Aunt. The only other time you will leave is to mow the lawn or do other chores you are told to do. Additionally! Every third day you will send that bloody letter that says you are well. Do you understand?" the angry man asked, his face taking on an unhealthy hue of red.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon," was the stoic response.
"Well then, make sure to keep that freaky stuff in your room away from us normal folks. We're going out tonight, and will not be home until tomorrow afternoon, or later. Do not leave your room while we're away." the same delightful smile played along the fat man's lip. It was the same petty smile he always bestowed on his nephew when he denied him something.
"No, Uncle Vernon," Harry said heaving a great sigh. If they were going out and grounding him to his room, then it would be another night without food. He hated it here, and he hated the Dursleys. The neglect and abuse had already started by them denying him food. If he was lucky, he might get an evening meal.
After sitting for a moment in front of the little rickety table that he used for homework, Harry heard Vernon's car depart. He knew the door wasn't locked, since they'd be away for a while and he might need the use the loo - and of course to mow the lawn. While he was sitting there, his mind was thinking.
There were a few ways out of this, but the one he liked most was his revenge on the Dursleys, and a misdirect to others. He needed to get it done before the Order set up their routines, as he was convinced that they would continue as before. Last summer with the 'Dung' and dementors, had shown him that they had been guarding him. And he was sure they were going to continue.
He had already done a lot of careful planning so that Vernon might take the fall. Which Harry had no problems with, because that bastard and his family had abused him so much that he could care less if the fat man rotted in prison for a crime he didn't commit. The Dursleys were gone for the night, so why wait when the opportunity had presented itself immediately? There was really only one thing to do and do it right away... he was going take matters into his own hands.
His OWLs were done, though he didn't know the results yet. However, he was sure he had at least five passing grades. Which were the requirements to be a magician, which was a high enough rank to succeed in the Wizarding World. Without at least five acceptable grades in the test, he'd be like Hagrid when he came of age, someone with magic, but not allowed to carry or use a wand. Therefore, he needed to make sure to stay out of trouble until he was seventeen. If he went unnoticed until then, everything would fix itself. To succeed, he had to prepare as well as plan.
He started thinking about what he needed to keep, only things he absolutely could not do without. There were personal things of sentimental value, but now that he had a few extra hours, he could make it look like everything, even his treasures, were destroyed in a fire.
Vernon had closed for the fireplace some time ago and had repaired it after Mr. Weasley had destroyed two years back. With a little cunning and the help of a knife, he got hold of one the edges, and it soon it easily came apart. He lit an old newspaper to make sure the smoke went up the flue. It did, so he set about burning everything he wasn't taking with him. Which was a lot.
The only things that he saved were; his invisibility cloak, his broom and his photo album. He would need the first two to escape. The latter was all he had to know his family. And it was with that on his mind that he let Hedwig out of her cage. "Hedwig, my lovely friend, I'm going to make a really big mess. So please fly around and hunt for a while. I'm going to be hidden, so don't be afraid. Stay alive, and I'll call you when things settled down."
The snowy owl gave a hoot and flew out the window. She knew her owner would call her soon, so she wasn't afraid.
The rebellious teen made sure the books and letters were craftily burnt. He needed to make sure that anyone looking would recognize what was in the grate. So, there were a few letters from his friends, and his schoolbooks. He shed a few tears of nostalgia here and there - yes there was moments of joy in all the sadness, but the thought of all he was to do, and what that may hit Vernon, made it child's play. After an hour and a half of work, he was done. Anyone who searched for him would think that someone had been in a hurry to get rid of them.
He was going to make it look like he was killed, so he first made his way to the cupboard under the stairs. Dumbledore had said that as long as he saw Privet Drive as his home, so did the blood wards. "NEVER" was the word that ran firmly through his mind, as he had read about it, since they got powered by the 'love of a family' and love was one thing that this family didn't have, especially not for him.
But Harry thought for a moment, 'Okay let's go for that.' He stuck himself in the right index finger with a sewing needle, to get fresh blood. He put three small drops of fresh blood (no external magic or traceable potions on it) on the inside of the door. "Home of Harry Potter," he spoke in a low voice as he drew three small pentagrams with his blood. Here he really missed the blood quills. All the while he was thinking, 'When Albus Dumbledore looks for me, here is where he be looking hereafter.'
The next step was bloody serious; it was blood magic. He had to cut himself, drop blood in a bucket filled with a gallon of water and a potion he had made in the Come and Go Room at Hogwarts.
The potion was brewed so that a with few drops of fresh blood, water and help of some blood magic, it would make the results look like loads of fresh blood. However, the amount of blood he needed was not enough from what he got with just a few drops of fresh blood. For the potion to work, he couldn't add any blood older than three months.
The bucket of water would be a gallon and a half, equaling to six to seven liters, for each gallon of water twenty ounces of blood was needed, as of that some thirty (30) ounces blood was needed. Five ounces of stored could be added for every ounce of fresh. Hence, he took the knife and cut the outside of his right hand. It was already scarred anyway. Holding the bleeding hand over a bucket prepared for blood, he measured his fresh blood by using one of his Aunt Petunia's best teacups. Two cups should do. Then with the still bleeding hand, he added nine cups stored blood.
He closed the wound by applying the ointment he had received from Poppy before he left, with his other hand. She had said that as often as he got into trouble he might be needing it. With only a few words she indicated that she understood that it might be used during the summer. The wound would heal in a few minutes.
It was a lot more blood than needed, but double the blood didn't spoil it, when just very too little would not only be bad but make it totally useless. Now he simply watched as the old blood and new blood mingled with the potion and water in the bucket. He was glad that he had prepared ahead and stored his blood daily in the Room, while he was brewing this marvelous potion.
There was enough to set up a very gory scene, a normal person might spill a little more than a gallon, if cut open, and he had a bucket full. Anyone looking would think there had been a murder, or a bad mutilation, which was just what Harry wanted and planned for.
It was easy enough to spill some here and there or drop it in various places. The first thing he did was put some undiluted blood on his bed, with a few splashes on the wall, the rest of the stored blood came to good use here. It would look like he had been stabbed with a knife as he lay in bed. But for that had to look like it was masked, so then he turned the mattress, and put on a clean sheet. The bloody one was shoved in the laundry basket, under some other clothes.
Then he dragged a towel that had been dipped in blood from the bedroom into the bathroom, where he made a proper big spot. As if he went, or was dragged there, to try and stop the bleeding to spread more in the room.
In closing, he put blood stains on many door handles, and then he came to the big part. The saw, axe and knife were dipped in blood and badly wiped clean, and there was bloodstains where someone would hold them. Again, some stored blood came to good use. Stored blood was without potion and was good on some places where it might have been wiped or tried to be washed off. He then went through the house and made it look like someone tried to wipe it all down. All to make it look like someone did a bad job in trying clean up a crime scene. It all appeared as if they were scared and in a hurry.
It would be quite nasty for the Dursleys, but after many years of hell he had put up with it was time for repayment.
After setting it all up, Harry snuck out with help of his invisibility cloak. He locked the door with the spare key, and then put it back under the doormat. He went slowly towards the park, looking at the grass behind him to make sure that there weren't any foot imprints from any other invisible people. He got on his broom and flew on towards London.
- END FLASHBACK -
Everything had gone smoothly. His name was not Harry Potter anymore and he was also legally of age. All the spells that had been on him Sikkso had removed. Even those on his wand. He had also been given the address of Gringotts branch in Sweden. A place called Vadköping in the town Örebro. It would be roughly in the middle of Sweden, with Swedish eyes seen. It would mean the route Stockholm - Karlstad. But it he shouldn't need to visit the bank, unless he lost his things, then he could get help there. It was more like an emergency solution, to know where to find a local Swedish Gringotts. Harry thought of the Nordic region as an opportunity to take a vacation.
He would not let any traces of Harry Potter go to Sweden, and from there he'd discreetly go to the Mediterranean. But all those things lay in the future.
AN: In this story Dumbledore had put the broom in Harry's trunk with a note, and that's how he got it.
