Chapter 09

The location Harry had said to meet was listed not as Lashkargah but Bost or Boost on all the apparition maps and on the portkey destination maps he'd seen.

He wanted to ask Harry why he chose such hard to get to locations.

He didn't know what to get Harry for his sixteenth birthday. What did someone get their godson who had spent over two years wandering around the Middle East? Aside from a portkey away to somewhere nicer, something Harry had said he didn't want.

It wasn't as though he could give him a bottle of firewhiskey to celebrate Sirius thought with a frown as he opened up the box containing the very expensive portkeys. 'Safer to have one there and a separate one to return', the witch had said whom he'd got the portkeys from, she came recommended from his last portkey specialist, but this was further with more ancient protections to contend with so she said.

Sirius slipped a money bag into his pocket and another for Harry, it was the only thing he seemed to…it wasn't enjoy, Harry hadn't seemed to covet money, it was useful, a safety net for him.

He not so much said, not explicitly, that he had begun with nothing…because of the Dursleys. That was the crux of it, he sometimes wished he could have done more with them before the Dementors found them.

Sirius looked away from the portkeys and to his drinks cabinet, mostly containing bottles of firewhiskey, and covered the small distance and poured himself a large glass of the amber liquid.

Swallowing it he sighed, relaxing, the thought of the Dementors and what they did edging off from his memories.

Putting the glass down he looked and frowned at how much of the bottle he'd consumed, and looked back at the portkeys. It wasn't as though the location Harry had chosen was likely to contain a decent bar.

-/

It made him uneasy, walking along the path, the religious building dominating the landscape. Sirius cast a glance at the domed building. Cutting through the buildings towards his destination he tried to keep a low profile. More subdued than his previous meetings with Harry.

Making his way through the spaces selling items, he saw the establishment, as Harry had described with its light blue sign and writing in Arabic, and there Harry was, sat reading a book seemingly unconcerned by the dust and noise around him.

He still had a bag beside him, and hair was longer than it had the last time he'd seen him, roughly tied together and sitting on his chest. There was a cup and a small pot of tea on the table, he couldn't tell as he approached how long Harry had been there.

"Charming location Harry," Sirius said by way of greeting as he sat opposite Harry.

Harry looked up from his book, he didn't seem surprised.

As he settled into his chair a man came by and removed the small teapot, replacing it with a larger one and another cup.

Harry said something, perhaps a thank you, Sirius wasn't sure as the man returned inside his shop.

"This is nicer than some places I've been recently Sirius," Harry commented pouring them each some tea. "Spent a lot of time appartating across rocky, hilly areas, few people," Harry said in halting sentences, like he had to think about what to say. "I guess you'll still lament the lack of a bar?" He asked in a more natural tone, slightly amused too.

"I was going to say happy birthday," Sirius paused. "And a pity we can't toast."

Harry nodded. "I thought you'd like to see me for my birthday," he paused and pushed his hair he'd tied together off his chest over his shoulder onto to his back.

"Going to cut that off to celebrate?" Sirius joked.

Harry shook his head. Pulling it into a bun had only worked for so long, he liked keeping it long. Long enough at the front it covered the scar and at the back because…he could. "I've only needed to account for myself Sirius," Harry smiled. "I like the independent look, the look of a…"

Sirius gave him a puzzled look as he tried to wrap his tongue around what Harry had just said.

"A wanderer, or maybe a lost one," Harry explained. "I kind of like it."

"Even if it is lonely? I remember being on the run Harry," Sirius mused in a sad tone and shook his head. "I didn't mean to be so solemn Harry," he said reaching for his tea, wincing as he sipped it and realising how strong it was.

Harry shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm here Sirius, the loneliness I have…" Harry trailed off in thought. "I have gotten to know it, embraced it, and got to meet lots of people. Few have been judgmental of my lifestyle, few have turned as some others in the past have," Harry let the statement hang and took a hold of his own mug sipping it caught in his own thoughts, and then caught Sirius watching him, worried. "I realised several months ago, this is my life Sirius. I caught a ride on a boat and being trapped on it for a few weeks, it was terrible, being beholden to another's journey, another path."

This seemed to worry Sirius more because he breathed in deep before he spoke again. "Dumbledore asked me, the next time I saw you, he wants to speak with you."

Harry looked at him surprised. "To what Sirius? Explain and withdraw his support of the death warrant he endorsed? To apologise perhaps? For the Tournament?"

Sirius shook his head. "No Harry, something else, something…I don't know what exactly. To do with Voldemort. Snape has been spying for the Order of the Phoenix," Sirius paused in his explanations. "He was caught recently, injured badly, almost felt bad for him," Sirius finished with a wrinkle of his nose.

"What if I say no Sirius?" Harry asked as he poured more tea into his mug. "What if I say you and I will only speak over the phone, and we never meet again?" Harry did not say what he thought concerning trust.

Sirius watched him, some worry in his eyes. "I haven't been spying on you to Dumbledore Harry," he implored honestly.

Harry leaned back into his chair. He'd learnt enough, enough thus far about meeting places, dangerous places and places that held power…and minimised the power of a wizard. It was quite a tantalising thought. To get some answers. But considering said wizard had offered none the last time he had come asking, why would he now?

"I didn't think you had," Harry lied. "I just think back sometimes, think how much a friend Ron was, how much my house rallied around me in previous years, with everything that happened. Then…" he trailed off, thinking. "I'll find somewhere to meet Albus Dumbledore then," Harry smiled sadly. "I don't think I will be calling him headmaster Sirius, I'm not sure I would want to return there, even if I could, now that I've had time, and space away from it."

Sirius nodded, he smiled, but it didn't seem to reach his eyes.

-/

He didn't rush to find a location for his meeting with Dumbledore. He promised he'd call Sirius when he found a location, and after Sirius had departed, Harry remained in Lashkargah for a few weeks, just to see…just to see and keep an ear to the ground to see if a wizard with a long white beard made his way into the city, or to the tea house where he'd been with Sirius.

No one had shown up, so he'd sought out somewhere to have his meeting from those wizards he'd met around the here. Some hadn't wanted his assistance, in potion making or whatever, just a story, of how he came to be here, and why he would want somewhere so protected.

It certainly tested his Arabic to explain all of that, if he was honest he would have preferred doing labour or brewing potions than drawing upon his language skills thus far to explain what and how led him here, the longer story of it.

But it had led to more revelations, much humour and interest in him and his meeting, the journey of travel and…life he supposed.

He'd needed to go further north. Sat between an ancient ruin and a mosque was a small well, with a tree shading most of it. It was beginning to lose its leaves at the moment.

There were chairs and tables sat beneath it, and as he discovered with some surprise and delight he couldn't perform any magic here.

The tree stood in the confluence of locations, just positioned in the right place, overseen, albeit from some distance by another mosque.

Feeling the tree, it felt ancient, even if it was looking a little scraggly at the moment. Which considering the chill in the air was probably helpful.

Harry resolved to source a few things, tea things to make his meeting with Albus Dumbledore seem homely, at least a little bit, for him at the very least.

-/

He'd scouted out the area, just in case he needed to do a runner, and he would have to run, he'd tested it, no spells could be fired around here, but there was a region where you could perform magic. But here it was a very small field of nothing.

But it was enough.

Harry adjusted the tea kettle on its warmer. He had two mugs ready, although wondered if Dumbledore would drink any of it, especially if he couldn't check to see if Harry had poisoned it. He wasn't sure he'd know where to start, not that he wanted to, he'd never wanted anyone's deaths.

Then he saw it, some movement on the side street, a man in long robes, not like the locals here. This man had long robes with a subdued purple tone and pale stars on them, like it had gone through the wash too many times. He bore a quizzical expression on his face as he approached.

He seemed to have tucked his wand up one sleeve.

Likely having failed to cast about as he'd approached, his wizarding spell crafting useless here.

Harry gestured the opposite chair without speaking as Dumbledore approached.

"You're looking well Harry," he said as he took the offered chair and drew his wand, gesturing at the tea kettle and mugs.

Harry wasn't sure if he was summoning them or checking them, he didn't say anything, and nothing happened.

He looked at Harry with some surprise. "Those instructing you have taught you well my boy."

Harry shook his head. "This place is nullified, the properties of these" Harry gestured around him. "Impart on the landscape," Harry paused. "Nothing to do with me," he finished as he reached forward and poured the rich brown liquid into two mugs.

Dumbledore reached for his first, breathing in the steam from the mug. "Ah, such a robust brew," he said putting down the mug having not even wetted his lips.

"For someone who escaped a potentially lethal Tournament, skipped out on a magical contract and had a death warrant issued against me, I'm quite well," Harry commented dryly as he took his own mug, sipping the hot liquid carefully as he watched the older man before him.

Dumbledore at least had the courtesy of looking a uncomfortable. "That was unfortunate. But it was something you should not have done Harry."

Harry put the mug back down. "If I had remained, or even had I returned, would you have forced me to participate in the Tournament?" Harry asked watching for his reactions.

Dumbledore remained silent, he merely stared into the mugs on the table not meeting Harry's gaze.

"Contracts exist in the magical world Harry," Dumbledore stated after a long moment's pause.

"Even ones you don't agree to? What sort of legal system is that?" Harry questioned.

"A better one than exists here Harry," Dumbledore almost snapped in a bristly tone.

Harry smiled and relaxed into the chair, watching him. "I've travelled several places and a few countries, the rule of law is quite brutal, and also often quite non-existent, but these places usually have some sense to them and their spaces," he paused to take another sip of his tea. "I could have been the spare dead in the cemetery, instead of Krum," Harry said quoting what Sirius had explained about the events in the cemetery, what had been said and what Cedric had heard.

"That would not have happened Harry," Dumbledore said softly.

"It wouldn't have?" Harry pressed. "Perhaps then Cedric would have been the one dead there?" He pressed. "Or was I meant to have ended up facing Voldemort alone?" He continued. "No need to kill the spare, just me?" He watched Dumbledore who tried to avert his gaze. Harry continued with his questions, questions that had been brewing within him for sometime. "Even if I had failed every task, if I'd just refused to participate, I would still have needed to have completed the Tournament, correct?"

Dumbledore remained silent for some time before nodding.

"And whoever was orchestrating the Tournament would have ensured I was placed with that cup, without it seeming too obvious of course, it wouldn't have done to be prepared," Harry commented cynically.

"The outcome of the Tournament is not what I have come to speak with you today Harry," Dumbledore interjected in Harry's dialogue.

Harry shrugged as he reached forward for his mug again. He had waited more than two years to ask these questions. Sirius had provided him all the basic information fo what had happened, but not the hypotheticals that made him pause and think at night. "Sirius said Snape's been exposed as your spy, and you're worried," Harry watched him. "Now you've decided you need to speak to me."

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore added needlessly.

"I haven't been at Hogwarts for more than two years Headmaster," Harry commented in a sarcastic tone that he very rarely used outside of his own internal monologue. In fact this was the longest conversation he'd had in English since meeting Sirius, and that wasn't too much of a lengthy conversation. "I don't think you're in any position to ask me to use terms like 'professor'," Harry paused to calm his angry tone and looked at Dumbledore carefully. "You endorsed the death warrant."

Dumbledore looked at him. "A mere formality Harry, it was imperative for you to return, I mistakenly thought that would hasten the investigation."

"Hasten the return of a fugitive of the Ministry?" Harry pondered.

"You may well be pardoned Harry, as Sirius was," Dumbledore commented carefully, it sounded somewhat like a threat.

"Well?" Harry asked as he poured himself another cup of tea, Dumbledore he noted had not drunk any of his.

"May we go somewhere less open Harry?" Dumbledore asked looking around them.

Harry shook his head. "We are secluded enough here. I am sure you saw the dome of the mosque," Harry fixed him with a look. "I will not go anywhere else Albus Dumbledore, you can speak here, or" Harry gave a large shrug. "I will leave, and contact Sirius again whenever."

Dumbledore seemed to hesitate.

Harry stood up. "Give Severus my best," he fixed him with a look. "It hasn't been pleasant."

"Harry, stop," Dumbledore said in a panicked tone.

Harry sat back into his chair and tilted his head inquiring, but not saying anything.

Dumbledore looked at him for a moment, seemingly collecting his thoughts and then sighed "It concerns a prophecy and what Voldemort has done to prolong his life."

-/

Harry picked up his mug as Dumbledore finished speaking and then put it back down, looking at him casually. "I feel as though I want to say, that this…" Harry trailed off "…this problem is yours."

Dumbledore looked at him with wide eyes. "Harry, a prophecy is not something to be walked away from."

"That is what they cautioned me about when I ran away from the contract," Harry countered.

"That is different," Dumbledore said in a short tone.

Harry breathed in a deep breath tasting the afternoon's breeze on his tongue and sighed. "And if I say no?"

"I could force you to return Harry," Dumbledore said in the same tone as Harry had imagined when he'd read of the death warrant against him.

It made a chill pass down his back, but he forced himself to remain calm in the face of Albus Dumbledore who in this situation had whatever strength whatever age person he was, and nothing more.

Harry was pretty sure he could outrun the man. He was fairly certain he had better knowledge of the area. The mosque would offer easy sanctuary should he need it, the ruins too held their own protections. He forced himself to laugh. "Not likely," he looked to the mugs. "You can't even float a tea cup," he looked around. "I could run off and disappear," he fixed Dumbledore with a look. "I did it from Hogwarts, I could be sailing down the Gulf of Oman and out into the Arabian Sea off to parts unknown," he paused. "Away from your tales of prophecy and horcruxes." It was a lie, he wasn't sure if he'd get on another boat for a lengthy amount of time, he enjoyed leading his own travel.

Dumbledore looked shocked at him. "Harry, what of your friends?"

"The one who endorsed the Ministry's warrant or the one you threatened with expulsion unless she revealed information she didn't know?" Harry countered.

"An unfortunate turn of events," Dumbledore said simply.

There extended a long silence as Harry thought over what Dumbledore had said.

"I wonder why you trekked out here," Harry mused watching the older man. "Why I couldn't just be left to be," he paused.

Dumbledore wasn't Ron, but that didn't make him less terrible, just a different sort awful. He also wasn't sure if he could believe him.

"I won't help you with your quest for these splinters of souls," Harry said firmly after some time of quiet consideration. "Send your lackeys, the Order Sirius has talked about, or whoever," Harry paused and shook his head as Dumbledore seemed to sit up and want to speak. "Why would I have any more success than you would, being the leader of the Order?" Harry watched Dumbledore carefully.

"I'm not going to rush off on a quest just because you vaguely proclaim something, from the way you have explained, the prophecy mentions nothing of these soul fragments," Harry asked in a wondering tone. "You'll have to to your best," Harry finished.

Dumbledore looked at him, perhaps mulling the phrasing of his sentence. "What of the prophecy then Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry watched the older man. "You and the Minister said I 'abandoned my duties to wizarding life'," Harry quoted.

"That was…unfortunate turn of phrase," Dumbledore admitted.

Harry rose from his chair, holding his tongue as much as he wished to comment on how many times Dumbledore said 'unfortunate'.

"I'll consider the prophecy, when the time is right I guess," he let out another sigh and shook his head.

"Harry, how might I contact you?" Dumbledore began as Harry walked away from him.

"You won't," Harry paused in thought. "Give me a time frame."

"Once a week?" Dumbledore asked hopefully as he rose from the table to follow Harry.

"In a few months then," Harry called as he rushed away.

"No, Harry," Dumbledore walked quickly to follow Harry as he disappeared around a corner of one of the buildings.

There was nothing but dust and sand.

-/

Albus cast around with his wand, here away from the chairs he could use his wand, albeit in a reduced way. He gazed around and looked at the religious building, he felt a nervous energy from it, an energy that it seemed had not prevented Harry from apparating speedily away from him.

Casting around in a wide arc he couldn't detect any evidence of his apparition, however there were no footprints and there were no doorways or alcoves that he could have disappeared into.

Returning his wand to his robes he looked around once more before returning to the path he had trodden to reach this location and find the secluded spot he had apparated to in order to depart again.

-/

A moment later Harry stepped out of the alcove, ending the spell occluding it and him from anyone who might be gazing around and walked off in the opposite direction to his former headmaster. Pleased that Dumbledore had not seen through his spell.

-/

He'd given away a lot of his warmer weather clothes, as he ventured further north into Afghanistan, he'd also picked up some books on Slavic languages, although looking at them he knew that Cyrillic was going to give him as many problems as Arabic had.

He wasn't sure when he'd decided to continue to venture northwards.

Russia and its surrounding countries seemed like an interesting place to head for, they also didn't have any extradition treaties with Britain, which was good for him.

Right now he was trying not to shiver as he shopped for more colder weather clothes than he had been wearing. That was the problem with apparating bigger distances, and warming charms. The seemingly sudden drop in temperature was huge now that the end of the year was approaching.

-/

Hermione trepidatiously waited for the phone to ring, she'd earlier been at Cedric's house practising flying with him and the twins after last year with the Delacours this year Cedric remained at home, from his letters he was still unsure, now that he had completed his schooling at Hogwarts what he might do progressing forward.

But had invited her round nonetheless for Christmas, so she could take advantage of his parents' library over the Christmas break. The twins had come round too, Fred and George had jumped on her idea for a 'tow hook' to take advantage of the recent huge snowfall that had dumped an unusual volume of snow over Britain this year. She was less certain about being on skis, so preferred to fly and watch out for Cedric and the twins.

Then while they were trialling the tow hook the twins had fashioned she'd been summoned back home.

Harry had called.

-/

The phone rang, making her jump.

"Yes, I accept the charges," her dad said and handed the phone to her.

"Hello old friend, it's been a while," Harry's voice sounded different, older.

"Harry, I…" she started and found she was at a loss for words. "I…" she started again.

Harry laughed.

"I got your postcard," she finally said.

He laughed again. "I almost forked out an excessive amount of money to send a wizarding-post letter."

"You should have, I could have replied, you, you just up and left Harry," she burbled.

Harry sighed. "After the dangers of the Tournament…I'm sorry you were forced from-"

She cut him off. "Dumbledore tried to blackmail me Harry. I've friends, people who respect me and my ideas and a group of international friends and associations at Beauxbatons, much more so than had I stayed at Hogwarts. Don't you start apologising for anything Harry. What Dumbledore did was all him, you've got nothing to apologise about."

"Okay Hermione, relax," Harry said down the line. "I should go, I just wanted to call and say hi. I'm not sure when I might be able to again, be able to catch you at home I mean."

"You could write, if you'd taken your owl with you," she chastised.

"That would have made it easier, I…I like this Hermione, even if I am…freezing my tits off," he said, seemingly failing to come up with words. It was only now Hermione realised it was what she sometimes sounded like, and that Harry had the same, yet different odd accent to his words.

"You've learnt to speak another language haven't you? Good on you Harry," she praised.

Harry laughed. "Of course! You can't go around talking loudly and gesturing at people, that's what Sirius tried to do when he first met me out here," he paused. "Say sorry to your dad for such a long call. Hopefully at the end of all this we can have a proper chat, bye."

Then the line went dead.

Hermione wiped her eyes, she didn't realise how emotional it was to hear Harry's voice after more than two years.

"Did he say where he was?" Her dad asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Just that he's freezing his tits off," Hermione looked to him. "You think he's moved on from the Middle East?"

Her dad mused on this information. "The Middle East is large and it does get cold around a lot of parts."

-/

Harry shoved his hands into the sheepskin coat he'd purchased, it helped ward off pretty much all of Baghlan's chills. It was worn in places and only had two huge pockets on the front. But it felt more 'him' than the various ex-military coats and jackets that filled the shops and markets that he'd scoured for clothing.

He'd also found some indications that there was a wizarding population of some sort around here.

He'd grown used to looking for the signs of magic, or potions or something, some signs that there might be witches or wizards who might want assistance, or to trade for his abilities or skills, such as they were.

Sometimes it was a market stall with something magical on it, sometimes it was a bit of graffiti on walls pointing to a location, sometimes it was just a feeling that guided someone who could feel or detect that 'otherness' to a location.

Here though the signs seemed to point out of town towards a small encampment, with a few tents and a handful of more permanent storage buildings.

He walked up, their wary gazes on him, as he held his wand out in an open manner he saw their expressions relax.

They were mostly travelling mages, who'd bedded down here, and were happy to trade, chat and discuss.

He always admitted he wasn't the best potion brewer, but showed them samples of what he had, and if they were willing he could brew them what he had, or be instructed by them, if they wished.

These mages, like many he'd met freely accepted his offer, many he'd learnt purchased potions rather than brewing themselves, or sold a small selection of raw ingredients. It was the rarer ones they sold, or they plied their more rarified spells and knowledge that people around these parts never learnt.

He had learnt that for a lot of magical people, places like Hogwarts or the other European schools were a luxury that they couldn't afford to take up, it was down to the local communities to educate, and sometimes that was lost to conflict or other things.

It was a harsh way to live.

He tried to help where he could, learn and give away and try to help as he passed through.

Almost everyone he met was willing to teach him something, and those who weren't…he'd learnt valuable lessons regardless.

These mages cautioned him travelling further north, the weather and everything would only get worse and colder, head south they said.

Harry laughed at their suggestions - that's where he'd come from. He wasn't ready to go backwards just yet, he'd started trying to work out Russian in any case.

-/

Severus looked up, Albus was lingering in the doorway. "If you've come to plead your case again, I will not 'try my contacts' again Albus," he paused to invoke Poppy's name. "Poppy-" he was cut off.

"I am aware of what Poppy said Severus. Without your presence within Voldemort's inner circle we have no means of knowing what his movements will be," the older man commented.

Severus looked back to the potion he was brewing. It was a stronger version of one prescribed to Diggory following his encounter with the Dark Lord's followers. Their skills with the Cruciatus seemed to have improved vastly. Despite the length of time that had passed since his abrupt exit from their circle he still had twitches of pain. Not just twitches, sometimes, bending down to pick up a canister of ingredients he'd feel like he was pulling a muscle, then the pain would spread slowly. And then he would be sat in a chair, sweat pouring down his face as he tried not to black out.

He had not told anyone of this, he suspected Poppy knew, but had assured him his health was only between the two of them. She didn't even keep any notes.

Good.

In a way he admired Potter's callous pondering that Albus related to him after his meeting with Potter.

As Albus related, Potter had suggested that it was their problem, Potter had quite rightly surmised that he had remained away from the wizarding Britain for two years. Managed not to get himself killed, yet was still drawn back into events beyond his control.

While a simplistic reading of the situation, Potter had shown some intelligence, if not much forethought concerning the Tournament. Leaving had ensured his safety.

"Then perhaps you should find another 'lackey' as Potter put it to infiltrate his inner circle?" Severus quoted with a sneer.

"Severus, I am surprised, quoting Harry?" The old man chuckled, clearly amused, but at least he departed the doorway.

-/

A/N:

The encounter Harry has with Dumbledore is largely the same as Extradition Challenges, except I've mostly rewritten it. Much of the dialogue is the same, because I still quite like the dialogue. But the reactions are different, the tone is different and it's paced in a different way.