Harry's trip to India
Chapter 8
"I can honestly say that it was a pleasure to learn from you. I will forever remember and cherish the time spent among your people, and it was undeniably very kind of you to trust me with your pictures. Be sure that no one will know of you except my closest friends," Harry said by way of a farewell, and activated his portkey back to the room in the lodge.
The elders had been reluctant at first, not wanting the knowledge to leave the village. But then one of them, the grandfather of the boy he had saved, started explaining the basics, and another had taken it up when he stopped, and soon Harry was learning their unique variety of magic. By the time the day had ended and he sat on his bed in the tent, he was already able to disillusion himself wandlessly; though they called it adrishta, a peculiar word.
He shook off the reminiscence, and focused on his surroundings. Bitter experience had taught him to be very alert and paranoid when travelling by Portkey.
He found no immediate danger, and sat on the bed. He began meditating, as had been instructed to him.
He sat in the classic cross-legged position, feet tucked under the opposite leg, placed both palms on the knees, and started concentrating and focusing on certain emotions and expressions.
Peace... Quiet... Silence...
He thought of them, thought about them, and thought with them. He searched within himself for the peace, and let his senses extend for the blissful silence.
But something just didn't seem to connect.
So he tried a different track.
Fire... Warmth... Sunshine... Comfort...
He kept this one up for longer moments, but this didn't seem to work either. He was getting quite frustrated now, which was more of an impediment than one might think.
But he was nothing if not determined. After all, the Fates themselves had decreed that one of them would die by the hands of the other, and Voldemort wouldn't be killed by Tickling Hexes.
He searched within himself, looking for that one emotion, which was at the core of his being. He recalled the weeks he had been starved by his 'loving' family. He saw through his own eyes, and felt the desperation, when the dragon was breathing fire over his head, the feeling of being trapped. Trapped in the miniscule cupboard. Trapped under the stupid Tournament. Ensnared in the bloody Prophecy.
And he had the answer instantly. Or so he thought. Unknown to him, it had already been three hours since he had sat for meditation.
Freedom... Independence... The Sky... Flying... Broom... Quidditch...Magic...It was like a dam had burst, allowing the feelings to flow like a river, a wave.
The meditation went on for a while longer.
It was five hours since he had arrived, that he called it a day and packed up all his belongings in his bag.
He knew that he couldn't spend too much time in one place, both for security reasons, as well as for the fact that he wanted to experience as much of India as he could before the trip ended.
Giving a final look around the room to verify he had packed everything, he closed the door and went back to the reception area.
Some light conversation with the Old lady, and he paid the bills and walked out the door, into a dusk quickly flowing into the night.
Entering a nearby Easy travelling for Wizards and Witches, he came across a bald man sitting in a chair, feet on the table, watching some cricket match in a box-sized TV.
"What can I do for you Mister..." The shopkeeper droned, eyes still fixed on the match.
"Black, and I would like a portkey to Bangalore."
Nowthe shopkeeper did look up, onto his obscured face and registering his flawless local accent, and nodded to himself. He opened an old drawer, pulled out a small curved dagger with intricate designs on it. The sheath was also flawlessly designed, and golden in shade.
"This is a one-use portkey, but it also is a very useful weapon. Something tells me you will have use of it in the near future. You can of course ask for a standard one, but I would prefer if you take this."
Harry considered it, shrugged, and paid the amount.
"Bangalore." He stated clearly, and was brisked off to the AC city of India.
The man nodded to no one, dragged back his chair, and sat back to watch the game. It seemed that Mullally had taken yet another wicket against Pakistan.
*
Harry arrived in the centre of a park, and promptly stumbled down yet again.
Sigh. Using portkeys clearly didn't cure his problem, whatever it was.
He shrugged. It was just another thing making him Harry Potter. Nothing to do about it.
He took a taxi to a nearby hotel, and settled for the night.
*
Luna Lovegood was deliriously happy, Harry had taken all the right paths.
She had seen many possible outcomes, and people suffered in every one of them. It had been heart-wrenching to see her father die so many times, herself and her friends getting tortured, Harry losing to Tom Riddle...
And, it was exponentially worse because she knew every one of them was happening in some other world, some other reality. Her other versions had suffered so much, it was painful to imagine them happening to her friends. But that was the reason she was happy.
Draco, in his infinite stupidity (though she was very thankful for it), had arranged the circumstances in such a way that Harry had run away from his home. Every future had devolved into a desolate world only because Harry had been controlled and manipulated.
She was so happy that she didn't even feed the Snorkacks in her garden.
*
Lucius Malfoy had already reached the coast of India. These stupid Death Eaters and their half-brained schemes that always failed...
He had to negotiate two whole hours with the Goblins to get a decent amount of gold. As he was technically a fugitive, Goblins had been adamant about not giving him any gold whatsoever. As he was a Malfoy, he knew that certainly won't do.
So, as a last resort, he had finally traded one tenth of his gold in exchange for the Gringotts swearing that they will never prohibit him from taking any more of his gold. They had unsurprisingly agreed, greedy bastards.
They had completely and utterly denied him access to a portkey directly to India. They were absolutely adamant on this, and refused even 2,000 Galleons. This was highly irregular, and had rendered him helpless. He wouldn't go down to the level of asking his other comrades to arrange a portkey for him. His reputation was already damaged, it couldn't bear another blow without falling apart entirely.
Though he did ask Lord Parkinson for a paid ride in one of his boats. He was his childhood ally, and agreed wholeheartedly.
So it was that Lucius had spent more than five days on the magically enhanced boat, which was carrying two dragons and dozens of different animals that were used as ingredients in various rituals and potions. He was feeling very sick, and was about ready to deboard the boat and never see it again.
As he lifted his trunk and made to walk down the ramp, the captain, who was forseeing the transfer of two dozen Cornish Pixies, abruptly stopped him.
"Sir, you wanted to travel to India, yes?"
"Yes, now please step aside. Your payment has already been made to your employer." Lucius was in a hurry.
"You misunderstand. This is not India. We still have four days to reach there. Please step back into your accommodation so that you do not occupy this ramp for longer."
Lucius smiled, thanked the captain, went back to his room, and vomited all over his bed.
Thank Merlin for the Scourgify charm.
He locked the door, silenced and warded the room, and promptly screamed. He cursed Voldemort for sending him here, he cursed the foolish Death Eaters for getting captured in India of all places, he even cursed the sea for being very turbulent (it wasn't).
So it was that he again settled down for another 4 days. He had never thought he would be desperate to visit India, but he sure as hell was at the moment.
*
Tinkly the elf, who her master always called Tipsy, had run out of tears, but her resolve was stronger than a Dragon's claws. She knew that with all the restrictions on her, she was powerless to do anything to help the Boy-Who-Lived, but she knew one other elf who could help her.
Who had been released from her master's clutches.
Who was a friend of Harry Potter.
Tinkly had to contact and hint Dobby somehow. She could think of only this way to help Harry Potter.
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AN: Relatively short chapter, because it had been a long time since I had updated it, and I really wanted to keep updating it, lest I lose the momentum and the muse...
Anyway, about the Omake/Interlude:
1. I am humbled and quite frenkly stunned that so many went out of their way to respond.
2. In the Omake's idea (henceforth the "2nd idea"), Draco has been following Ron, albeit by proxy, throughout a year. So, if Ron had in fact betrayed Harry in any way, Draco would have known of it.
So, those who are suggesting I use both, I tried, but things don't seem to match.
3. Many are of course correct in saying Draco can/will never be as clever as shown here, and you're absolutely right. But I like to play with smarter characters. So, although the baseline Death Eater will still be very dumb, certain key characters are recieving a boost in their intelintelligence. Harry, Draco, Tom are among them, about Bellatrix I haven't decided yet.
4. All those who absolutely hate Ron... I can feel why. Believe me, I really can. But, when I read the books again, I realised he really wasn't all that bad, and my perception had changed due to reading so many fics. Maybe your thinking has gone the other way as well, it's a worthwhile thought.
5. As you can probably infer from the above, yes, the 2nd idea is officially inducted into my story.
6. A couple suggested I use Ron to basically say all the mistakes he made, while none of them were in the diary. It could work, but I would have to invest time into the diary, and I frankly enjoy playing with Harry more. So I am not saying "No," per se, but it is highly unlikely.
Now to answer certain specific issues I believe readers are unaware of:–
1. Why Harry trusts a random diary after what happened in 2nd year?
Harry is an emotionally shunted and isolated child and young man. Whenever he has something good happened to him, there is always a selfish reason behind it. He is pretty sure that Hermione is his friend only in obligation to him saving her life, and any day she would decide that leaving him was for the better.
So, even though he saved Ron's sister's life, he was always a little wary because he didn't really know his motive.
After enduring the emotional trauma of Sirius' death, and having the weight of the prophecy on his untrained shoulders, he probably was very emotionally strung up, and this just provided an easy outlet and a welcome diversion, which he seized immediately.
2. Why have I not updated recently?
Because the muse left me, and has refused to return till now.
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Now, since this is just a filler chapter, I have also uploded another Omake, and this one is definitely an Omake ONLY.