Chapter 7

The Fugitives

"You were trying to keep me here," said Harry. "How far away is he."

"Dumbledore'll be here in a few minutes," Norman said in a calm voice. "He just want to talk to you."

Harry stood up so suddenly that his chair fell back with a loud bang.

"No!"

"Harry, calm down," said May.

"I don't want to see him! I can't believe you tricked me like that! Get the hell away from me!"

Harry walked towards the door.

"I'm sorry Harry," said Norman's voice. "But I can't let you go. Vigoroth scratch."

Harry turned just in time to see Vigoroth rush toward him and scratch him. He fell to the ground and everything went black.


Harry slowly opened his eyes and saw that everything was blurry. Someone had removed his glasses. He reached over to the table next to him and grabbed his glasses. He placed them on his face and the room came into clearer focus.

It was a pink bedroom with white furniture. There was a fluffy theme to the bedroom and Harry knew that he was resting in May's bedroom.

Harry gazed around the room and by the closet he spotted his rucksack. It was wide open as if someone had been rummaging in it.

He rubbed his face and noticed that there was no wound on his face from when Vigoroth had scratched him. It didn't even hurt. It was as if someone had healed him while he was unconscious.

Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rose to his feet. He went over to his rucksack and checked to make sure nothing was missing. Everything looked in order. His Pokeballs and Pokedex were still intact and someone had placed Eevee back in its Wizardball.

Harry was sure that everything was fine when he noticed that one of his balms was not filled to the top. He pulled it out of the bag and noted that it was a healing balm. Someone had used it and it was quite obvious on what they used it on. But which one of them was kind enough to heal him.

He closed his bag and placed it onto his back. He quietly walked over to the door and turned the knob. It wouldn't turn. Norman must have locked the door from the other side.

He pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the small keyhole.

"Alohomora!" whispered Harry. The door didn't unlock. "Alohomora!" Harry whispered again. The door still didn't unlock.

Harry was pretty sure that Norman and the others were muggles, so how could the door still be locked.

This must be Dumbledore's doing. He must be here already.

Harry, frustrated, quietly made his way back to the bed. He carefully sat down.

It isn't fair, he thought, There's a whole world out there. Why am I always confined to the same place? Even when I do go to a new place…Voldemort's there. Maybe this is my only purpose of life. To pursue Voldemort.

Harry felt a chill and heard the windows rattle. The two glass screens blowing harshly in the wind.

Harry stood up and looked out of the opened window. The sky was dark with storm clouds despite the fact that it was only dusk. He saw a flash of lightening and heard a distant thunder. It looked as if it was about to pour down.

Harry turned his back on the window and took a few paces. His mind still filled with thoughts of his life.

Maybe I am just a tool. No! I'm not a tool. I'm a human. Dumbledore can't keep telling me what to do. This is my life! My body! My story! It's time for me to take my own actions.

Harry turned back to the window. Another bolt of lightening flashed and thunder rumbled. He walked over to the window and grasped on side of the wall with one hand and the windowsill with the other hand.

He hoisted himself up on the windowsill and looked down. He wasn't that high. He calculated that he was on the second floor. If he really did have the ability to fly, he could easily make that jump.

Taking a deep breath, he bended his knees and jumped out of the window. From within, he pushed himself into the air and dove back down to the ground.

He looked around and saw that no one was around. He was outside. He was free. He started to run out of the town and towards an opened field. A field that meant no restrictions.

He didn't stop running until he placed a great distance between him and Dumbledore. He looked back towards the direction May's house was in one last time before proceeding down the field.


"My Lord?"

Voldemort looked up and saw his most faithful Death Eater standing there watching him. He was on his hands and knees as if he was crawling around looking for something.

He stood up and addressed Bellatrix.

"What is it, Bella?" he said in a voice that held no annoyance. "This better be good. I was in the middle of something important." Still no annoyance.

"It is, My Lord," said Bellatrix bowing to Voldemort. "Harry Potter is on the move. He has just left Petalburg City. Team Aqua swore that they saw him going into the forest."

"The forest?" he repeated. "Are you sure, Bella?"

"Yes," she answered. "They were quite sure. They described the boy perfectly."

There was silence as Voldemort stroke his chin thinking. If the boy had gone into the forest he, Voldemort, would have a hard time getting to him. The forest was huge. Then there was the matter of the boy finding his hidden Horcrux. He was sure that was why the boy was in the Hoenn region. He would need to quickly find the boy and coax him over. He also needed to find an old friend of his, who lived in the forest. He needed more time.

"I need you all in the forest," he told Bellatrix. "Find the boy, but do not harm him. I will join you later."

Bellatrix nodded and left her master to his search. It was important to get the boy to trust him.


It was already pouring down and Harry found himself freezing as the raindrops plastered his hair to his head. He could barely see and was sure that the trees of the forest wasn't helping.

The sun was completely gone and the clouds blocked the moon. Harry didn't like the dark. He wasn't afraid of it, just what lurked in it. Creatures like Voldemort.

The wind blew harshly. Lightening flashed, thunder clashed. Harry ran and hid behind a tree, the leaves above sheltering him from some of the rain. He felt himself shaking and knew that he was scared. Tonight was not the best night to run the forest.

Another loud BOOM and Harry closed his eyes shut wishing that the storm would go away. He would rather face Dumbledore than face Mother Nature.

Harry heard a release of a Pokemon and felt something nuzzle his leg. He started and looked down. His Eevee had released itself from his Wizardball.

"Vwee," it said with a worried look on its face.

"I'm okay, Eevee," said Harry. "I—"

Thunder clashed again and Harry buried his face into the tree. Eevee jumped onto his shoulder and nuzzled his face for reassurance.

"Vwee,"

Harry looked at the Eevee on his shoulder. It really cared about him. It was kind of weird having a Pokemon that was the son of his father's Pokemon.

Harry smiled and reached up to stroke his furry little fox. This was his Eevee. No one could take that away from him. Not even Dumbledore.

Harry suddenly heard a twig snap and he and Eevee looked around. They saw no one, but Harry had a feeling he was being watched. It was an ominous feeling.

Eevee jumped down and they both quietly ran away from the source of the noise. They didn't stop running until Harry shook off the bad feeling he had.

He took a few more steps before he grabbed a tree to lean on it. He was holding his chest trying to catch his breath.

"I think…" he said trying to breath. "I think…we got…away."

There was another rustle and Harry and Eevee both looked up. This was a different kind of feeling.

Curious, Harry walked towards the sound, Eevee on his heels preparing to attack just in case his friend was in danger.

It was another rustle and Harry's steps faltered. Eevee crashed into his leg. It fell back, jumped into its feet, and ran in front of Harry. Preparing an attack.

Harry pulled out his wand and prepared his own attack stance.

The rustling grew louder and Harry felt his wand hand shaking. He knew it wasn't Voldemort. His scar would be hurting if that was the case. It could have been a Death Eater, Team Rocket, or Team Magma.

But it wasn't…

"Pichu," said a small yellow Pokemon that looked like a baby version of Pikachu.

It was smaller and had black on the tips of its pointy ears, tail and part of its chest. It looked frighten.

Harry pulled out his Pokedex and aimed it at the terrified Pokemon.

"Pichu," it said. "Is an electric type. It is the pre-evolved form of Pikachu. The electric pouches on its cheek is still small. They can not store much electricity yet."

"A Pichu, huh?" said Harry as he put away the Pokedex and pulled out a Pokeball. "Sounds pretty cool. Let's catch it, Eevee."

"Vwee," it said with determination.

"Alright, quick attack!"

Eevee ran toward Pichu with great speed and tackled it. The attack was a success. Pichu was thrown back and fell to the ground.

"Great job," Harry praised. "Pokeball…g—"

Harry was about to throw the Pokeball when what he saw nearly made him drop it. Pichu was sitting on the ground crying, but not as if it was in pain.

Harry placed the Pokeball in his bag and knelt down in front of the Pokemon.

"Hey," said Harry in a sweet voice. "What's wrong? I'm not going to hurt you."

"Pichu, Pichu, Pichu." It sounded like a complaint.

Harry raised an eyebrow. He had no idea what was going on. Thunder roared and Pichu jumped into Harry's arms. He held the shivering Pokemon. Something clicked in his mind.

"Are you lost?"

"Chu," it said nodding.

Harry held Pichu out in front of him so that they could look each other in the eye.

"Don't worry, Pichu," he said. "I'll help you get home. I promise."

"Pichu," it said happily.

"Where do you live?"

Pichu jumped out of Harry's hands and landed in front of him. It then pointed deeper into the forest.

Harry stood up and looked between the trees. He didn't really want to go deeper in, but a promise is a promise.

Harry picked up the Pichu and walked in the indicated direction, Eevee trailing behind him.

He, after all, didn't have anything better to do. He and Eevee were fugitives.