Chapter 25: Nott an Escape

Harry accepted the plate with a bit of hesitation. The man was grinning and nodding as some sort of gesture of approval. The amount of attention Harry was receiving evoked a kind of fear. No one should appear so pleased by the acceptance of a plate of breakfast. Harry had not fully recovered his wariness of the man since he passed out in his office. Harry's scar had not hurt and he had felt nothing close to ill until the time he sat in Prof. Ainsley's office drinking tea with Theo. He wished Theo was there this time. It was only the teacher and him.

"Did you… Did Dumbledore send you?"

Ainsley just smiled at him.

Harry swallowed and asked again, "Sir, did Dumbledore ask you to retrieve me?"

"You were at the Leaky Cauldron all on your own. That hardly seemed safe." That still did not quite answer Harry's question. He eyed the plate he was holding as if expecting it to be poisoned. Maybe it would begin dripping acid soon.

The man rose to full height and motioned about the room. Harry's things had been brought along and were stacked up beside the door. Hedwig was on the counter walking up and down the surface pecking at stray crumbs. Ainsley decided to give Harry the full tour: there was a couch, a small bed in one corner, the kitchen on the opposite corner, and the door into the loo. That was all there was to it. A small one room flat. He claimed that he lived close to the Leaky Cauldron, but Harry found himself not caring much about what the man said. He was increasingly uncomfortable and his hands were quaking.

Ainsley took the plate from him and placed it on the coffee table next to where the cot lay. "You can go wash up and come back to eat if you wish."

Harry got up slowly and when Ainsley tried to help him off from the cot, Harry refused him. Harry crossed the cold wood floor toward his things. He picked up some clothes to change into and found his wand missing. He rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. He pressed himself against the wall and stared at the ugly yellow bathroom. The only source of light was a bare swinging bulb in the center of the ceiling and it flickered a few times. Harry did not know if it was a wise decision to shower. He washed his face at the faucet; changed his clothes; opened the door a crack to see what Ainsley was up to.

The man was seated on his sofa with Hedwig perched on his shoulder as he fed something to her. Harry, feeling pangs of horror that the man was going to murder his bird, burst from the room and both the man and Harry's owl glanced back at him. "Are you alright, Harry?"

"I'm fine. I'm just a little out of sorts, I suppose." He felt a little juvenile. His stream of thought had been only on negative contemplations since he awoke. Ainsley had not hurt him and he had not done anything wrong as far as Harry knew. His wand could have been anywhere. Hedwig seemed to find a sort of fondness toward the man. Harry strolled behind the couch and back toward his belongings. "Forgot my toothbrush." He grabbed it and returned to the bathroom and gave himself a small scolding as he stared at himself brushing. Surely, if the man were up to no good then Harry would have already been in his grave. Harry pointed his toothbrush at the mirror and with a foamy mouth said, "Give him some time. He probably isn't a bad man." He spat in the sink. "You're just paranoid."

When Harry left the bathroom a second time he felt much more at ease. His fears were not completely abated, but it was a start. Harry sat at the small round dining table in the corner that was arranged as the kitchen. Ainsley was living the thrilling bachelor life it seemed in his small flat. A few Quidditch posters were up. One of which Harry saw to be the Holyhead Harpies: an all-female team. The place was not dirty, but it looked so bland. It wasn't hard to figure that with so little space there would not be much to do with the room.

The plate of food was still there for him, but Harry said he was not hungry and the man just tossed what was left into the rubbish bin. Ainsley then asked if he was interested in some tea. Harry quickly declined this offer. The man stated simply, "You can't go without food and beverage, Harry."

"I'm not a big eater."

Ainsley went to his kettle and began to make tea regardless of Harry's attempts to dissuade him from doing such. Harry guessed that he did not have to partake in the drink even if it was offered to him. He simply sat at the table and watched to see what sorts of things were being thrown into the mixture. Hot water and a bag of tea. Harry couldn't be sure the man had not constructed his own bags.

A cup was placed on the table. Harry stared at it. Ainsley sat at the chair opposite of him as he sipped at his mug with a small grin stretching the corners of his mouth. He looked absolutely normal. He was in muggle clothing. His hair was kept. He was clean shaven and did not smell odd. Harry's brows knit in frustration. His scar was not hurting, but he hadn't drank the tea yet, he reminded himself. The mug was right in front of him just waiting to sooth his parched throat. He was nearly ravenous in all honesty. The smell of breakfast earlier had been one of the most delightful things he had smelt in a long time, but Harry was too alert to risk it.

For some time there was a standoff. The man may not have realized he was a part of it. In Harry's mind he was guilty until proven innocent. If his life were truly on the line then he would need to be as cautious as ever. Harry pulled the mug closer and Ainsley was watching from over his own cup. The rim was at Harry's lips and he took a quick sip. Delight filled his taste buds. The tea was normal too.

A few more gulps later and Harry felt no less aware of his surroundings than before. The room was not struggling to stay upright and Ainsley was not cackling diabolically. Harry found himself safe thus far. The only thing that worried him now was how the man had just ignored his questions earlier. He gave little insight as to whether Dumbledore had sent him. If not; Ainsley was following him with malicious intent. If so; then what hide it?

The remainder of the day went by with ease. Harry partook of lunch and even supper. A second session of tea was served just before they were to get prepared for bed. Ainsley talked a little—not as much as Harry would expect of him. When he did speak it was all drivel. Nothing hardly held any sort of hints as to his intentions or overall nature. That was the strangest part about Prof. Ainsley. He was unbelievably indistinctive in nature. The man lacked any sort of substance and Harry just could not figure out what sort of person he was. The only things he knew were: he was Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, he went to Hogwarts fifteen years ago, and he had been a Slytherin.

The only strange and characterizing feature was how he would pick on Harry and Theo. It was not even negative picking. It was just friendly banter—mere gibberish. Harry hardly felt like the man would have any reason to feel resentment toward either teen for their relationship.

The man told him he could get a snack if he woke up in the middle of the night. His shower was free for use whenever. He also said that Hedwig could do as she chose. Harry decided the best course of action was to go through his luggage and find his wand. Ainsley was in the shower as he conducted his search. The man had expected him to be in his cot before he got out. Harry rummaged as much as he might only to come out empty handed. The flat was at his disposal so Harry went through all the drawers. Where was it? His wand had really vanished then? This was not good. Harry pursed his lips and began searching in more ridiculous places. The stove was empty of all wands. Under the man's mattress also came out fruitless. Harry heart the water spray form the shower heard die. He gulped and ran back toward his cot and lay down. Hedwig decided to join him by perching on the corner. Harry pulled the cover over his head and listened to hear if Ainsley was going to do anything harmful, but all he heard was footsteps, the sound of a light being turned off and then the sounds of a bedspread being ruffled.

He was safe for another night.

Ω

Two nights passed like that. Harry acted apprehensive about eating only to give in by lunch. Ainsley made no efforts to explain anything to him. Both of them were at his small dining table with tea in front of them. It was about to be his fourth night's stay. Harry still came up empty handed in his endeavor to find his wand and felt ill at ease by asking the man of its whereabouts.

Hedwig had left a while ago just for a stretch of her wings, but Harry could not stand it anymore. Everything was the same day by day and Harry was gaining suspicion that it was only a ploy to confuse him. Other times he would calm himself down and rationalize it as Ainsley doing his best to be kind. The voice that told him it was all some sort of conspiracy was growing louder by the hour.

Harry finished his tea and still felt levelheaded. "Sir?"

"Yes?" Ainsely asked from behind a copy of the Daily Prophet which showed nothing of interest.

"Do you have any paper and a pen? I think I should like to write a letter."

Ainsley held onto the crisp newspaper with one hand and took up his mug with the other. There was a faint sound of him drinking. "Certainly, Harry. I have some in the desk drawer next to your trunk."

Harry thanked him and the man just replied he was more than happy to accommodate him. Harry slipped out from between the chair and table and crossed toward the small desk. It was very small. It looked hardly used as well. A few marks indicated it had been written on. Harry opened the topmost drawer and pulled out ruled paper and an ink pen. It took a bit of scratching to get the ink flowing again. Once it was writing and the corner of his paper soiled, Harry set to work. His hand shook as he thought about who he was writing to and what he was going to say. Help, I am being held captive by My DADA teacher. Save me. Love Harry Potter. The idea crossed his mind several times as he sat there drumming his pointed finger on the desk.

In crooked letters he managed this much; "I have no idea what is going on. I feel in danger when nothing is happening. I feel as if I am forever being watched. The man I am with has given me many suspicions and I would be very much obliged to be rescued from his care."

A voice—which was uncomfortably close to his ear asked, "To whom are you sending this letter, Harry?"

Harry's hands jerked and he slammed the pen into the closest part of the body that his arm reached. Ainsley let out a loud scream in pain and began trying to remove the end of the pen from what happened to be his forearm. Blood was hitting the floor with a disgusting splat splat. Harry took the paper and rushed form the flat. As Ainsley was screaming; however, this time it was more likely to be in fury than in pain. Harry ended up in a very narrow corridor which branched off into more little flats. Harry looked for the closest exit sign.

Bounding down the stairs, his legs managed to take them two or three at a time until he was at the ground floor. What had he done? It had been an accident. Yet, every time someone had snuck up on him before he had never had any sort of inclination to stab them with a writing utensil. That wasn't to say he had purposefully meant that as his means of escape, but it was what worked. His wand was lost. His owl was already out. Harry could buy new things. He just needed to leave. He needed to be as far from Prof. Ainsley as possible. If Harry ever had to face the man again he could only hope that it was at Hogwarts where so many other people dwelt.

His heart was pounding in his chest and his head was light. There was no time to get all shaken. There was too much to take care of before he could rest. Outside of the building there was nothing to be seen except for relatively empty streets. Harry had no idea where he was. His only hope was that he was still in London. If he was in London then he could perhaps find Grimmauld Place. He could find Sirius and Lupin. He would be safe.

A man in a suit was walking by when Harry rushed toward him and in a flurry of words and spit Harry asked, "Excuse me… Sir. Could you please tell me… Am I anywhere near Islington?"

The man stared at him with some concern; mostly for himself. He said nothing and quickly tried walking away.

Harry got lucky the next go round. He ran into an older woman who pointed him in the right direction and offered him a ride. She had been leaving a store with some groceries. "You look so exhausted. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied quietly. He wished to get it all off his chest. Stabbed my teacher and ran for it. His thoughts were still idiotic. He was relieved when he saw the entrance to Grimmauld Place. He could think of nothing better to do then jump from the moving vehicle, but he refrained and told the woman that he could make it from there. "Thank you so much. I'm sorry I have no way of thanking you."

"Just get to your house safely. Be more careful."

With that the older woman was gone from sight in her little car. Harry rushed up the sidewalk toward 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place. The mystical 12 would appear for him in only a moment.