Greetings, one and all! And welcome to another installment of The Potter And Kent Chronicles! I hope you all enjoy it and now on to some reviews!
Dark Blue Wing: Glad you liked the ending of the second year! I get why some people don't like HarryXGinny, though I personally have nothing against it. And yes, Tom knows Clark's mother.
Savoxgut: Let's just say Tom/Voldie and Clark's mother have a history, though I am not going to spoil it!
Wolf King 0811: Glad your looking forward to year 3 like I am! As for when the pairings are going to start showing... there are some hints in year 3 but it will really start in year 4.
Now onward to the story!
On a island far out in the sea, stood a dark tower where the most dangerous of all wizard kind was locked up. Inside one of the dimly lit interrogation rooms a man with tangled hair. This man was perhaps the only sane prisoner on the entire island, unlike the other prisoners who all had gone mad.
In the hall way outside the interrogation room, he could hear someone say, "Are you sure you want to meet him, my lady?".
"I am a hundred thousand percent sure. I personally requested to talk to him, didn't I?", another voice said, as the man could hear footsteps closing in on the room. The iron door opened and a person dressed in a black cloak stepped in the cell. Though said cloak covered all features, from the curves of the stranger, it was a female.
"Give me a sign if you want to leave, my lady.", the other one said, before closing the door behind her. She walks into the room, placing a hand on the chair on the other side of the table, before sitting down. "It's been a while, hasn't it.", she said after a while, placing her hand on his, gently gripping it, "How have you been?", she asked concerned.
"Oh, pretty good. Aside from the Dementors, my prison has a great view over the ocean.", the man said dryly, even joining in a chuckle with the woman. "I am sorry, it's taking so long. My search has been taking me far away from here.", the woman continued, the man knew this wasn't just a social call, as she reached into her pocket, taking out a recent copy of the Daily Prophet and sliding it towards him.
He studied the article she had pointed out and his eyes widened, "Do you think?", the man asked hopefully, and the woman nodded. "Yes, he is at Hogwarts.", the woman stood up, walking around the table before placing a wand inside the man's pocket. "I have a clue to look into, but try to take him alive.", she advised, placing a kiss on the man's forehead, making her way towards the door.
"I have seen him.", the woman said, "He has your eyes.", and with a knock on the door, it slid open as the woman disappeared.
Clark had only two weeks of his summer vacation left and until now it had to be the dullest one yet for Clark. Not only had he finished all his summer home work within a day, the time he could spend with Harry was also cut short as Harry's aunt Marge, who wasn't even his real aunt, she was his uncle's sister but he was forced to call her aunt anyway, was staying for a week, forcing Harry to stay inside and act like a Muggle.
Clark has spend that time doing what he usually did before he arrived at Hogwarts, just sitting in his room reading or walking around. Currently he was just walking around aimlessly in a park, just trying to kill the time until it was September 1 again.
Sitting down on one of the deserted swing, he thought that maybe he could try and visit Ron, Neville or Hermione over the summer, but his thoughts where interrupted by a sudden movement in the bushes next to him.
Clark turned around to see a enormous dog staring at him, "That's a big dog.", he said, as it slowly walked towards him. The dog had jet-black fur, and the size of a bear. "Hey, Wolfie?", Clark said as he was reminded of Fluffy from his first year at Hogwarts.
Despise it terrifying appearance, the dog let out a soft whine and gave his hand a lick. Looking at the dog if it was okay, Clark stretched out his hand, softly petting the dog on his back. "Your not a scary dog at all, huh?", Clark said with a smile, and the dog gave a happy bark. "Are you looking for your owner or are you like me?"
The dog whined sorrowfully, "So your just like me then? A stray nobody wanted?", Clark gave the dog a rub against his ear, and in return the dog gave his hand a lick, before turning around and sprinting away.
Before it disappeared back into the bushes, it gave Clark one last look with its grey eyes. "What a nice dog.", Clark said, realizing the time, he made his way back to the orphanage, enjoying the summer evening.
Clark woke up by something ticking against his window. Sitting up, Clark closed his copy of 'Advanced Dueling Spells And Tactics' and placing it on his nightstand. Rubbing his hand through his hair, he noted that it had started to become long before opening the window.
Assuming the ticking noise was an late night owl, but instead Clark felt a pebble being throw against his forehead. Letting out a curse word, he started to rub the spot the pebble had hit him, "This better not become a scar. That's Harry's thing.", he muttered angrily before looking at the person who had thrown it, and much to his surprise it was Harry, standing below his window with his trunk.
Telling Harry to wait down there, Clark sneaked down stairs and using a little wandless magic, opened the back door allowing Harry entrance. Helping Harry carrying the trunk to his room, he sat Harry down in the only chair in his room, before sitting on the bed. "Harry, I said you could drop by any time but I didn't had in mind this late.", Clark said, but the look on his friends face showed that this was quite serious. Harry explained that on the final night, Aunt Marge had called his father, James Potter, a lazy good for nothing drunk and his mother, Lilly Potter, a bitch.
Harry had lost his temper and had accidentally inflated her, he had decides to take his school things and run away, fearing he will almost certainly be expelled from Hogwarts, after using magic outside school again.
After listening to his explanation, Clark was rubbing his hair, trying to process it all. "Well... shit.", was all Clark could said, asking what Harry was planning to do. "I don't know... remove all the gold from Gringottss and... begin his life as an outcast.", Harry said, he felt horrible at the prospect.
"Alright... But Gringottss won't open for another few hours. Let's get some sleep before we head out.", Clark offered, it was sudden but Harry felt tired. Clark had started rubbing the back of his head, "I have only one bed... So I guess we have to share it...", he said slowly.
A few hours later, after a quick sleep and working down some chocolate Clark had left, the duo where carrying their trunks out of the orphanage and into the street. As they were making their way to the nearest Muggle Bus station, they had a feeling something was watching them, but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses.
Clark had sensed it, someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind them. Squinted at the black alleyway, If only it would move, then he'd know whether it was just a stray cat or something else. Suddenly Clark saw it, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes. Clark thought it looked like Wolfie, but Harry had stepped backward his legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His wand flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard, in the gutter.
There was a deafening BANG, and Clark threw up his hands to shield his eyes against a sudden blinding light... A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt. They belonged to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled 'The Knight Bus'.
A conductor in a purple uniform leaps out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this mor..."
The conductor stopped abruptly. He had just caught sight of Harry, who was still sitting on the ground. "What were you doin' down there?" said Stan, dropping his professional manner. "Fell over," said Harry as he snatched up his wand again and scrambled to his feet.
Clark meanwhile turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and fence. The Knight Bus's headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty. "What are ya looking at?" said Stan.
"There was a big black dog," Clark said, pointing into the gap. "What's your name?", Stan persisted.
"Neville Longbottom," said Harry, saying the first name that came into his head, earning him a amused look from Clark. "Clark Kent, so did you say this bus goes anywhere?"
"Yep," Stan stand proudly, "Anywhere you like, as long it's on land. Can't do underwater."
"Listen, how much would it be to get us to London?", Clark continued to ask, the price was eleven Sickles each, but for fourteen they got hot chocolate.
Harry was about to open his trunk, but Clark told him it wasn't necessary, paying for the both of them. He, Harry and Stan then lifted their trunks, with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus.
Stan shoved Harry's trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom and Clark Kent, Ern."
Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Harry and Clark, as the two sat down.
Stan, sat down in the armchair next to Ernie's, there was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Clark found himself flat on his bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus. Pulling himself up, Clark stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street.
"This is where we was before you flagged us down," Stan said. "Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?"
"How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" Harry asked, but it seemed the Muggles just never listened or something. Stan had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly at Clark from the front page. He looked strangely familiar.
"That man!" Harry said, nearly startling his friend, "He was on the Muggle news!"
Stan turned to the front page and chuckled, "Sirius Black," he said, nodding. "Course he was on the Muggle news, Neville. Where you been?", He gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on Harry's face, removed the front page, and handed it to Harry.
Harry held the paper up to the candlelight and as Clark looked with him over his shoulder.
BLACK STILL AT LARGE
Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.
"We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."
Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.
"Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it - who'd believe him if he did?"
While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.
Clark looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. "He murdered thirteen people?" said Harry, handing the page back to Stan, "With one curse?"
"Yep," said Stan, "In front of witnesses and all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, didn't it, Ern?", Stan swiveled in his armchair, his hands on the back, the better to look at Harry and Clark. "Black was a big supporter of You-Know-who," he said.
"What, Voldemort?" Clark said and Stan's pimples went white; Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse had to jump aside to avoid the bus. "So Black was a supporter of Voldemort?", Clark asked annoyed by their reaction.
"Yeah," said Stan, rubbing his chest. "Yeah, that's right. Very close to You-Know-who, they say... anyway, when little Harry Potter got the better of You-Know-Who all his supporters was tracked down, wasn't they, Ern? Most of 'em knew it was all over, but not Sirius Black. I heard he thought he be second-in-command once You-Know-who had taken over. Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles and Black took out his wand and blasted half the street apart, and a wizard got it, and so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. Then he laughed, just stood there and laughed. When reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, he went with them quiet, still laughing his head off."
The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths and trees, after a while, Stan remembered that Clark had paid for hot chocolate, but poured it all over Harry's pillow when the bus moved abruptly from Anglesea to Aberdeen. One by one, wizards and witches in dressing gowns and slippers descended from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go.
Finally, Harry and Clark where the only passenger left. "Right then, Neville and Clark," said Stan, clapping his hands, "whereabouts in London?"
"Diagon Alley," said Harry. They were thundering along Charing Cross Road. The sky was getting a little lighter. If they had planned it right, Gringottss would just be open, then Harry would set off to... that they hadn't planed yet. Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small and shabby-looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley. "Thanks," Harry said to Ern.
The duo jumped down the steps and helped Stan lower his trunk and Hedwig's cage onto the pavement. "Well," said Clark. "Bye then!"
But Stan wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus, he was goggling at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. "There you are, Harry," said a voice, before they could turn, Clark felt a hand on his shoulder as well. Clark looked up at the owner of the hand on his shoulder and felt a bucketful of ice cascade into his stomach, they had walked right into Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself.
Stan leaps onto the pavement beside them, "What did ya call Neville, Minister?" he asked excitedly. Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted. "Neville?" he repeated, frowning. "This is Harry Potter."
"I knew it!" Stan shouted gleefully. Fudge increased the pressure on Harry and Clark's shoulder, and Clark found himself being steered inside the pub. A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord. "You've got him, Minister!", Tom said. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"
"Perhaps a pot of tea," said Fudge, who still hadn't let go of the two. Fudge marched Harry and Clark along the narrow passage after Tom's lantern, and then into a small parlor. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room.
"Sit down, Harry, Clark." Fudge said, indicating a chair by the fire. The two sat down, as Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite Harry. "I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry and Clark. The Minister of Magic."
The two already knew this, of course. They had seen Fudge once before, but as they had been wearing Harry's father's Invisibility Cloak at the time, Fudge wasn't to know that. "Well, Harry," said Fudge, pouring out tea, "You've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think... but you're safe, and that's what matters.", Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry and Clark.
"Now then... You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done."
Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying a favorite nephew. Harry, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again.
"Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?" said Fudge. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays."
"So all that remains," said Fudge, now buttering himself a second crumpet, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your vacation. I suggest you two take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and..."
"Hang on," Clark said, interrupted the minister. "What about his punishment?"
Fudge blinked. "Punishment?"
"Harry broke the law. The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry?", Clark continued worriedly.
"Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish your friend for a little thing like that!" Fudge cried, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!"
Fudge strode out of the parlor and Clark stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for Harry at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish him for what he'd done?
Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper. "Room eleven's free, Harry and Clark." Fudge said. "I think you'll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand... I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you two be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me."
"Okay," said Harry slowly, "but why?"
"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" said Fudge with a hearty laugh. "No, no... best we know where you are...", he cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cloak.
"Have you had any luck with Black yet?", Clark asked. Fudge's finger slipped on the silver fastenings of his cloak. "What's that? Oh, you've heard... well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed... and they are angrier than I've ever seen them.", Fudge shuddered slightly as he held out his hand, shaking it with Harry and Clark and with a last smile Fudge left the room.
Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harry. "If you'll follow me, Mr. Potter and Mr. Kent," he said, "I've already taken your things up..."
They followed Tom up a wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for him. Inside where two very comfortable-looking beds, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe was... "Hedwig!" Harry gasped. The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harry's arm.
"Very smart owl you've got there," chuckled Tom. "Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask.", he gave another bow and left. Harry and Clark sat on their respective bed for a long time, Harry absentmindedly stroking Hedwig.
The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold. "I can't believe I left Privet Drive only a few hours ago, that I am not expelled, and now I am facing two completely Dursley-free weeks.", Harry said
"It's been a very weird night, alright.", Clark said with a yawn, before noticing that without even removing his glasses, Harry had slumped back onto his pillows and fell asleep, with Clark soon following.
There ya go, year 3 has started. I hope you all enjoyed it and many thanks to everyone who read, reviews, follows or favorite this story, you beautiful bastards! I hope you all have a fantastic day and I will see you ladies and gents, next time!