Summary: (AU) The final battle has been won, but was it worth the cost? Harry, alone and determined, sets out to rewrite history for a better world ... only to find himself stranded in another.
Disclaimer: All belongs to the one and only J.K.Rowling
…Chapter Ten…
Closing Time, Closing In
Harry couldn't keep the stupid grin off his face.
He leant up against a grimy wall opposite the bathroom, watching crowds of harassed muggles amble slowly past. Few spared him a smile in return - but then, airports were always the most unfriendly, dreary places he had found and the Bulgarians were no different.
Their flight had been delayed.
When he'd suggested the mode of transport to Cho she'd laughed - but the idea had its own appealing implications and merits, and had quickly turned from a flippant whim to a definite must. Crossing a mix of magical and muggle means made the pair much harder to track - although that had not been within the delicate reasoning he'd prepared for Cho. There had been a few complications in acquiring passports and other muggle paperwork, but nothing a trip into Knockturn Alley hadn't easily procured.
And nothing, Harry briskly amended, a quicker mind charm wouldn't if the need pressed.
Money wasn't an issue. Harry figured when they ran out he'd simply 'come by' some more. Legally or not - Harry really didn't give a damn either way. The world did owe him that much, didn't it? A crafty bit of experimenting transfigurement and that problem had been happily quenched.
They hadn't told anyone they were going. Again, Cho had been reluctant - but quickly brought around, by the idea of surprising her friends with exotic postcards of their travel. Harry had written a short note to the Headmaster and left it on his desk up high in the North Tower. His absence would be realized immediately, of course, but Harry guessed it would be a few days before the letter was eventually found and read.
"You ready?" Cho said, walking from the bathroom, breaking through Harry's jumbled stream of thoughts.
Harry turned to her, still grinning, and latched his hand in hers. "C'mon."
"Do you even know where we're going?" Cho asked him as he pulled her through the swarms of people.
Harry laughed. "Not really, no."
Glancing at another screen as they past by, Harry saw their flight had been set back a further two hours. Harry didn't care - nothing could possibly spoil his cheery mood. Following a trail of the most frustrated, bored looking people lead them to where Harry had hoped it would - the bar.
"You want something?" Harry asked.
Cho shrugged. "Might as well," she said.
Harry scrunched his face up at the board, unable to recognize anything in the strangely different tongue. When the bar attender swooped down, jabbering incomprehensibly something or another, Harry simply pointed at a customer to his left who cradled a creamy pink substance, and held up two fingers.
The muggle nodded his understanding and swooped away again.
Harry sighed, sitting himself down on a wobbly stool next to Cho, who had pulled a magazine out from her handbag.
"You lot are English, aren't you?"
Harry turned around to face the customer with the pink drink he'd bought.
The man was gruff, a no-nonsense type with an accent Harry couldn't quite place. He wore the standard sort of muggle clothes, nothing to set him apart from the crowds, as did Harry and Cho. He carried with him a large black briefcase and looked every essence the traditionally boring businessman.
"Yeah," Harry replied slowly, decided he was safe enough to chat to for then. "Our plane's been delayed," he explained, rolling his eyes.
The man nodded. "There's a lot of people fleeing Britain these days, don't you find?"
Harry shrugged. He didn't really know much about what was happening in the muggle society. Still, Voldemort's great rein of terror wreaked havoc in all parts and worlds, didn't it? "I suppose," he finally settled on.
Then the bar attender appeared again, clutching their drinks. Harry was glad for the interruption, and took his time paying the man, hoping the other would let it go. But as soon as the attender left, he started up again.
"Terrorist attacks," the man went on, visibly becoming more agitated. A twitch near his left eye pulsed threateningly. Harry began to regret ever conversing with him - the bloody war always followed him, no matter where he was or who he spoke to. "They're spreading right through Europe now, all these odd occurrences. Something evil's in the air, you mark my word."
Harry nodded, slurping up his drink. It was thick and sweet, and near instantly sent dizzy spells through his head.
"Honeymooning?" the man asked politely.
Harry grinned, eyes quickly flocking to Cho - but she wasn't listening. "No," he replied steadily, fighting not to laugh. Oh, hell no! "No, we're just good friends."
"Where are you headed?"
Harry shrugged, rolling his shoulders. "Where aren't we?" he asked back, forcing up a small chuckle. "Anywhere and everywhere," Harry added. They hadn't really made definite plans concerning any such destinations in particular - Harry reveled in the freedom of going wherever and whenever he liked.
The man nodded. "Be careful, mind you," he croaked, leaning forward. "These are dark times, and only darker rest ahead."
"What makes you say that?" Harry asked.
The man raised a heavy eyebrow. "You read the papers, lad?"
"No," Harry told him. Long and dreadful experience with the Prophet had Harry burning any copy he ever laid hands on, up until his time-turning incident. He absolutely loathed any form of media, especially the newspapers, and hoped to avoid it at all costs.
The man's face turned sour, his brow wrinkled tight. "You ought to, you know. Funny stuff - very funny stuff, plaguing these last few years. It'll make even the most unassuming man suspicious these days, the papers will. The arbitrary increases daily. All these strange deaths. Very strange."
Harry made a noncommittal noise and struggled to find something to add. "Where are you off to?" he asked at last, swaying away from the depressing conversation.
The man grinned, revealing several gold-capped teeth. "Where?" he smiled, bemused, clucking his tongue to the roof of his mouth. "Back home - Ireland. Ought to get going now, really." He stood, swinging back the rest of his drink.
Harry inclined his head, watching as he up and left.
For some reason the man had left a sour taste in his mouth, and Harry didn't like it. His senses honed in, his gaze sweeping the area for any posed threats. There didn't seem to be anything off, but still a sense of ill foreboding lingering in Harry's gut. Quickly finishing his drink, and most of Cho's, Harry stood up.
"I think I'll stretch my legs while we've got a chance," Harry told Cho. "Back in a few, ok?"
"Uhuh," Cho said, never looking up from her magazine.
Harry left her, stalking through the lounge bar. His heartbeat accelerated, thumping harder in his chest. Rounding a corner, Harry made a quick circuit around the bar, back past the bathroom to the gate they were meant to be boarding from. Everything looked fine - not once did Harry spot anyone who looked even slightly out of place, from the magical world or elsewhere. The airport was just as Harry presumed it should have been normally, just as he figured it was every other day.
Instead of putting his worry at ease, however, the tidiness of it all only further increased Harry's sense that something was up - that he was missing something important.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickling uncomfortably, as Harry fought to place his concern. He shivered slightly, and that's when the answer made itself obvious -
Someone was watching him.
Harry spun around in a wide arc, his gaze flicking left, right and centre.
Still he couldn't spot a thing. No-one. Nothing. Deciding he was either far too paranoid or whoever was watching him was doing a damn fine job of keeping invisible, Harry's resolve straightened, and he made his way carefully back to the bar.
"Cho," Harry said, grabbing the magazine from her lap.
"Hey!" she cried, glaring playfully. "I was reading that!"
"Come on," Harry said. "We've got to go."
Rolling her eyes, snatching the magazine back, Cho stood up and reached for his hand.
Harry walked quickly, pulling her along behind him. They existed the bar and started out towards the closest door that would take them outside, away from the confines of the swarming airport.
"Hadi - this isn't right," Cho called out. "We're going the wrong way, the boarding gate is back over there."
"I know," Harry told her impatiently. "We're not boarding that plane."
"What?" Cho said. "Hadi - but what about Spain?"
"Fuck Spain," Harry said over his shoulder.
"But Hadi," Cho began again, and then she'd stopped. Harry tugged her hand, but Cho refused to budge.
"What is it?" he asked irritably, turning back to face her.
"I don't understand!" Cho said. "You're not making any sense - the flight's been paid for, all our luggage's been put through - "
"It doesn't matter," Harry replied. "Don't worry, we'll fix it up later. Let's just go, alright?"
"What's going on?" Cho pressed, gritting her teeth and glaring at him dangerously.
Harry groaned. "I've got a bad feeling about Spain," he said, quickly lying. "I don't want to go there and I want to get out of here, now."
Passing traveler's were giving them looks - most directed none too kindly at Harry.
Cho leaned forward, bringing their bodies closer. "What kind of bad feeling?" she asked softly, eyeing the muggles as they struggled to get around them, Harry and Cho blocking their path.
"You know," Harry snapped, widening his eyes and wiggling an eyebrow. "A bad sort."
Cho frowned. "A vision?" she asked thoughtfully.
Harry smiled, thanking whoever might have been listening that he'd ever considered to apply for the Divination position at Hogwarts. The scraps it had gotten him out of! "Yeah, something like that," Harry said.
"Right," said Cho, taking a deep breath. "Where shall we go, then?"
Harry pointed forward, the way they'd been headed. "I have an idea - let's go back over to the train station and buy two tickets. It doesn't matter where - just the first two out of here."
Cho nodded, swinging her hair out of her face. "Alright," she said. "Sounds like a plan."
She was suspicious again, Harry thought, as they quickly made to leave the tightly crammed airport. But it didn't matter - they were going. As they rounded another corner, though, Harry stopped them again. He really couldn't be bothered edging back out past the guards, navigating around the metal detectors and all that other useless muggle rubbish. It'd take far too long. Looking swiftly over his shoulder again, hoping that no-one would see them, Harry silently spelled the door of a broom closet open and hurried inside, pressing Cho in before him.
"And what exactly did you lead us is here for?" Cho asked him dryly, a flush creeping up her cheeks.
Harry spread his arm over the wall, trying to find a light switch. "So that we can apparate out, of course," he told her, his voice mockingly sweet.
Cho laughed, pressing her body up against his, whispering into his ear, "Oh, is that so?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Harry said, reaching an arm around to wrap behind her waist.
With a loud crack they were gone.
They'd been to the train station before, having caught a ride in from France that way. Harry thought of a dingy little side street he remembered seeing just across from a row of stands where you could purchase hot beverages at the entrance. When he opened his eyes again they were there.
"Right," Harry said, and grabbed Cho's hand again, resuming his brisk pace.
At the end of the street he looked back, but was sure no-one was there. The pursuer thankfully lost at last, Harry pulled Cho quickly away from the empty side street and up into the train station. The platforms were hectically busy, muggles shoving past through thick, heavy crowds. The busier the better, Harry thought. On a large board flashed destinations and times in an array of different languages. Harry scanned the board, reading names off to Cho.
"Portugal, Iceland, Athens," Harry read aloud. "I hear Greece is quite lovely this time of year."
Cho gave him a disinterested look.
"It leaves in twenty minutes, we can make it if we hurry," Harry told her, ignoring her small protest. Grabbing her hand again, Harry dragged Cho off towards the shortest que.
Purchasing their tickets and scurrying off again to the platform was breached with minimal time and effort - a large part of that accounted for a careful bladder-straining hex tossed here and there. Harry kept looking around him, unease rising yet again tenfold. His eyes fixed constantly to a clock, digital numbers passing by horrendously slow.
Five minutes until the train was meant to arrive was when Harry spotted him - the first of many more.
James Potter.
What the hell was he doing there, at that particular train station in the middle of Bulgaria?
"Is that - oh, Merlin, look over there!" Cho laughed, incredulity dripping in her voice, laced with her pointed finger. "Is that James Potter? It is, look! Just there!"
No, it was too much of a coincidence -
Fuck.
"Should we go and say hello?" Cho asked.
"I don't know," Harry said. "He might not appreciate it." At Cho's skepticism, he added, "You know - he is an Auror. Who knows what he's doing here - he might be undercover or something."
Or he might have been following us, a voice of stern reason rang loud and clear in his head.
"I guess so," Cho mumbled, but she was standing on her tiptoes, craning her neck to get a better look beyond Harry.
When Harry turned back again James had disappeared.
They were easy to spot, when you knew what you were looking for.
Dedalus Diggle was behind them back at the counter, paying for a ticket. Hestia Jones sat on a bench to their far right, reading a large red book. Emmeline Vance was trying to buy a chocolate bar at a vending machine and not having much luck, as a growing line of muggles growled impatiently behind her.
The whole station was packed full of Order members!
Harry felt a terrible dread begin to boil in his stomach, swelling dolorously. He stared at the ground, trying to look inconspicuous, glaring at the dirty tiled pavement.
How had they possibly been followed? And how had Dumbledore caught on so impossibly soon?
It didn't make any sense - nothing made any sense. The plan Harry had labored on for countless hours had been perfect, failproof! Harry clenched his teeth together hard, biting his nails deep into his palm. He harbored no doubt that they had come to fetch them - to fetch him - and that they would not be happy in the slightest with Harry's plight to be rid of them. No, not happy at all.
He could see Tonks then, inching closer to them, stumbling around a group of giggling schoolgirls.
They were closing in around them.
"Hold on," Cho said slowly. "Is that Mundungus, right over there?"
Harry made no comment.
"I think it is!" Cho added, her voice wavering. "This is weird. Do you think something's up? Perhaps something terrible has happened back home?"
Harry shrugged, thinking fast. He tested the apparation barriers - a brittle ward had been put up. Harry cursed under his breath, trying to look in all directions without it seeming like he was. They could try to pull a runner - they might make it out. Unlikely, but they might. If he abandoned Cho, Harry thought for a moment, before shaking his head. No, that'd only loose him his only friend, and right then Harry had a feeling he'd need all the friends he could get. If they were going down, it had better be together.
They were trapped.
Harry bit his lip, craning his neck out along the train tracks ahead of them, desperately trying to find a way out.
The train would be there in two minutes, if only they could hold out -
"Hadi?" Cho said. "Mad-Eye Moody's walking straight towards us."
And he was, too - long robes swinging, wooden leg clicking rhythmically on the pavement. Harry could see Moody's hand was in his pocket, clutching his wand between worn fingers, ready to fire at the slightest twitch.
"Alastor," Harry greeted reproachfully.
"Evans, Chang," Moody said, nodded his head. "Nice day for it, isn't it?"
"What are you doing here?" Cho asked, taken by surprise.
Harry crossed his arms against his chest, not caring at all for politeness. "What do you want?"
Moody brought his wand out from his robes, and that must have been their signal - because by then the rest of the Order had come forward, forming a tight circle around them. All had their wand pointed straight at Harry, trailing him.
Muggles surrounding the group had stopped to stare and whisper.
"Whatever happened to the Statute of Secrecy?" Harry asked the old Auror dully.
"We're escorting you back to England, Evans," Moody growled, his voice low. "At any cost."
"And what if I don't want to go?" Harry asked, anger welling tightly in his chest. They couldn't do this to him - where was the justice? Morailty? And weren't they meant to be the good guys, anyway? "You can't force me to do anything," Harry spat.
"That's what you think," Moody said lightly. "I know better."
"Is that a threat?" Harry replied snidely, pulling his own wand out from the pocket of his jeans.
"Put it down, now," Moody thundered. "On the ground."
Harry twirled his wand between his fingers, pretending to consider it.
Fuck that!
"How about ... no."
"Evans," Tonks called out. "Don't be stupid!"
"Stupid?" Harry repeated, laughing. "This is stupid. I haven't done anything wrong - you have no right to make me do anything at all."
"We do, Hadi, and we will," said a voice behind him. Harry thought it was Vance.
"Look," Cho cried, clutching onto Harry's arm. "This is ridiculous!"
"Step away from him, Chang," Moody ordered. "He's dangerous."
"Dangerous!" Harry cried. "How did you figure that?"
Moody grinned, and was about to answer - but he never got the chance.
I'll show you dangerous.
Harry didn't think, spinning in an arc to rattle off spell after spell - nothing too painful, nothing life-threatening. He only wanted to show them all who exactly was in control. But the tip had spurred the Order into action, and they attacked from all directions. Voices lunged at him, dodging his attacks to cut away at his conscience.
"Couldn't let you get far now, could we Hadi?"
"We need you. Don't you understand that?"
"Is it too much to ask, really? To lend your services to our cause?"
"Selfish, that's what it is. You're just selfish - "
"Think of the children! Think of your students! Will you just run away and watch them all die?"
"With power comes responsibility. You'd do well to remember that one, Evans."
Their taunts rang about his head and Harry's anger grew - grew and grew and grew, bubbling and curdling and exploding in a bloodthirsty, throttling rage.
"You don't know the first thing about me!" Harry screamed back above the voices. "Who the fuck are you lot to judge - you don't know anything!"
"We know what you have to give," someone yelled. "And what you're holding back - you could end this war for us in a moment!"
"I don't owe any of you a thing - not a thing, let alone my life!" Harry cried. He was no saint - he would not be their tool, their weapon to be used at will and abandoned soon after.
"Have you no shame?" a woman called out in a tearful, strangled voice. "Have you no love at all?"
"No!" Harry screamed. "No, I don't - not for any of you!"
"Coward."
"Bastard."
"Snake."
Harry had had enough - enough! "SHUT UP!" he roared, spinning curses left and right, each nastier than the other.
"You can't run, Evans - we wont let you turn your back on us again. You didn't get very far this time, and you'll get less the next," a voice behind him leered unpleasantly.
"I got far enough to know I don't want to go back," Harry shot out, flicking his wand behind him to send a blood boiling curse.
Anger fueled him, spurring on his magic.
Harry was dreadfully outnumbered, he knew - forty to one, or roughly thereabout. He'd seen James before - his father. Was his mother there too? And Sirius, Remus - had they all come to support his capture? To force him on his knees to do their bloody bidding?
The anger churning in the pit of his stomach knew no bounds - Harry had never felt so vile, so riled in all of his life. And the magic pumping in his veins loved it, soaked in the loath and lapped up the injustice.
Harry wanted out. He was sick of it - sick of everything; the disguise, the act, the lies.
The world had not embraced as he'd thought it would at all. Far from it - he was only another means to the end for them, and that's all he ever would be. Whether it be Light or Dark, Voldemort or Dumbledore - all they wanted was his power, his weight in their allegiance.
Harry was mad. Very, very mad.
...pppqqq...
A/N: Eek. Sorry for the wait - I think I must say that every other chapter! Many thanks for reading, as always. Reviews are great.