Disclaimer: Anything recognisable belongs to J.K. Rowling.
. o O o . 36 . o O o .
Striking Out
As the car pulled up at Number 4, Privet Drive, a sense of gloom settled over Harry, though perhaps not quite as pronounced as it had been in previous years.
He unloaded his things from the car and lugged it into the house and then began to lug it up the stairs until Vernon's voice stopped him.
"I don't think so, boy. I want all your freaky things down here."
Harry frowned. This may put a bit of a wrench in his plans, but if he worked hard, it shouldn't make things too much more difficult.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon," he replied robotically, and dragged the trunk around the bottom of the stair to the cupboard. Pulling it open, he pushed his trunk in and closed the door. He supposed he should be glad they weren't destroying his things like they had the previous summer, and he could only assume that someone had talked to them.
Vernon snapped a shiny new padlock on with a sickening grin.
"What was wrong with the last one?" asked Harry, referring to the heavy duty padlock.
"Only the best for you, Potter," replied Vernon with ill-concealed glee, rattling the lock before shuffling away.
Harry rolled his eyes and took the stairs two at a time. He reached the landing just in time to collide with Dudley, who gave him a hard shove.
Harry waved his fingers spookily at Dudley and his cousin's eyes widened. Spluttering, and tripping as he walked backwards, Dudley escaped back to his room and Harry to his, both of them shutting their respective doors harder than was necessary.
He deposited Hedwig's cage on the desk and let her out, opening the window in case she wanted to hunt. He removed Salz from his pocket, the snake giving a hiss of relief at finally being allowed out after the long train ride and then the car ride.
Harry laid down on the bed whose sheets, judging from the musky smell, had not been changed since the last time he had been there. He stared up at the ceiling for a brief moment and then slipped the old padlock from his pocket.
It was slightly rusty, leaving a faint trace of brown on his fingers, and it was locked tight. He swung it on his finger a few times and then held it still, clearing his mind.
After a few moments, he opened his eyes and focussed on the padlock. "Alohamora," he whispered. The last thing he wanted was for the Dursleys to hear him doing magic, though there wasn't much they could do to stop him except keep him busy with chores.
The lock remained firmly shut, though he tried the spell numerous times and holding the lock in different ways.
Perhaps it would work if he tried doing it with the wand movement? Accio had no wand movement, but Alohamora required the caster to tap the lock with their wand.
Harry sat the lock on the bed and held his index finger out straight. This time when he incanted, he tapped the lock lightly with his finger.
He couldn't quite explain why, but it felt slightly different to holding the lock, though it still didn't unlock.
After a while, he took a break to stretch his legs a bit, walking several circles around his room.
He had been asked to send a letter to the Order every three days again, though he suspected the reasons this year were different to last year's.
He went downstairs into Vernon's study and returned to his room with a blank A4 sheet of paper and a blue ballpoint pen. Sitting at the small desk, he composed a short letter to Dumbledore.
Professor Dumbledore,
I'm writing like you asked.
I'll write again in three days.
Harry
There really wasn't much else for him to say, so he rolled up the brief missive and tied it to Hedwig's leg. His snowy owl took flight, heading north towards Hogwarts.
Harry flopped back down on the bed and focussed once again on the old padlock.
...
Aunt Petunia called him down for dinner at six o'clock, and he descended to the kitchen. He hadn't seen his Aunt since he had arrived back at Privet Drive, but she was as thin-lipped and horse-faced as always.
He sat in his usual chair and Petunia placed a plate in front of him.
Harry ate quickly and was standing to leave when Vernon told him to sit.
"Now boy, we've got a few things to discuss." His uncle turned a foul scowl on him.
"What might that be," asked Harry, crossing his arms and settling back for a lecture.
"Don't take that attitude with me, Potter! This is your last stay with us, and we want it as normal as possible. None of your magic in this house!"
"I'm not allowed to do magic out of school," he intoned. Although, he thought, he would be seventeen soon and he would legally be allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts.
"And there'd better not be any more of your freaky friends suddenly appearing in our house, boy!"
Harry had forgotten that he had apparently apparated himself, Malfoy, and Snape into the cupboard under the stairs.
"Er... there won't be."
"Good," sniffed Aunt Petunia.
Vernon stood and glared down at Harry. "That's all, now get upstairs to your room, boy. We don't want to hear a word from you for the rest of the night."
Heaving a sigh of frustration, he left the kitchen and headed to the bathroom, ignoring a snide parting comment from his uncle. Not long now.
...
Later that night Harry stepped out of his room and heard a crunch as something was crushed by his foot. Cursing, he stepped back to see a broken teacup, cold tea now soaking the carpet of the hallway. Shaking his head and wondering if it was Dudley's idea of a joke, he picked up the pieces and threw them in the bin, returning to his room with a bucket of water and a rag.
oOo
The next few days passed with irritating slowness. Vernon and Petunia kept him bust each day with chores; cleaning leaves from the gutters, repainting the front fence, sweeping out the shed.
It was while he was on the ladder filling a bag with handfuls of leaves that Petunia approached him.
"Harry!" she called sharply.
He looked down at her, wiping his sweating brow with the back of a gloved hand.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia?"
"Come down here."
Harry stepped down the ladder and came to stand in front of his Aunt. Her lips were pursed tightly
"That night you turned up here with those other two."
She stopped, and it seemed she had left a question unasked.
"Yes?" he prompted.
"That man – Snape – what happened to him?"
Harry looked down, frowning. He couldn't imagine why his Aunt would care what happened to someone he knew.
"He was tortured." Harry paused for a moment before adding, "By Voldemort."
His Aunt's face paled slightly. "Why?"
"Erm... Snape was a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. That's a group fighting against Voldemort. My parents were -"
"Yes, yes, I know," she murmured, surprising Harry. Petunia was staring off into the distance.
"Er... Aunt Petunia?"
She shook her head slightly, looking back at him. "And how do you know him? You must know him quite well to bother rescuing him."
Harry shrugged. "I don't know him well, really. He's a teacher at my school."
"He teaches at your school?" His Aunt looked surprised at this.
"Yeah, why?"
Suddenly his Aunt's expression became closed, and she stood straighter. "Lunch will be ready shortly. Finish up with this chore and then come inside."
It was only as she was walking away that Harry began to wonder how on Earth she knew Snape's name.
...
He climbed into bed that night with the same question running through his head. How did his Aunt know Snape's name? It was possible whoever had turned up to collect them had told her, but it was still odd for her to mention him specifically, and he thought that perhaps there was something more to it.
When he fell asleep, he dreamed again of the night they had rescued Snape, but again when he woke he could not remember it, much to his frustration. He was sure something important had happened and it niggled away at him.
oOo
The next day he sent his second letter off, this time to Lupin. It was a little longer than the one to Dumbledore had been, and somewhat more friendly.
Harry felt an odd sort of satisfaction as he watched Hedwig disappear into the distance.
When he could no longer see her, he moved to sit on his bed, once more with the padlock lying in front of him on the tangled sheets.
Holding out his finger, he tapped it and spoke, "Alohamora."
The lock clicked open.
His satisfaction grew.
oOo
On Monday morning after Vernon had left for work and Dudley had left for the shopping centre with Piers Polkiss, Petunia surprised Harry by telling him he could leave the outside chores for today.
Harry was glad, he was quite stiff from having spent the day before weeding the verge.
Instead, she had him help prepare lunch for the two of them, and then later, dinner. Apart from that, he was free to do as he wanted.
Most of the time he spent thinking about the conversation he had had with his Aunt as they prepared and ate lunch.
She had been standing at the sink shredding lettuce, and he had been getting cutlery when she had spoken.
"I am sorry for what Vernon did to you last time you were here," she said stiffly.
"It doesn't matter," muttered Harry after a pause, surprised by her admission.
Petunia sighed. "Yes it does. Your mother would hate me if she knew I let that happen."
Harry didn't know how to reply. His Aunt had never really talked about his mother to him before.
They finished getting the food ready in silence, and then sat opposite each other at the small kitchen table.
Drawing a deep breath, Harry finally spoke. "What was she like?"
Petunia's eyes flickered to his, and then away again, and he was sure an expression like pain passed across her face. It was a while before she answered.
"She was... Lily. Always happy, always kind. We were... close." Petunia drew a shaky breath before continuing. "We didn't live in such a nice area as this." She waved her hand vaguely. "But Lily brought a sort of light wherever she went. Nowhere was quite so dismal when she was there. I remember when we were little girls; we were forever playing in the park or the small woods that were close to where we lived."
She paused again, staring off into space, as though she were recalling long forgotten memories. "She would give anyone a chance. Not like me."
Harry wondered at the disjointed tale, and supposed his Aunt was reliving a particular memory.
"She was always doing odd little things, and we were both fascinated by the things she could do. Then of course her letter came. We grew apart after that. She was gone most of the year, and when she came back I didn't understand her quite as well as I had before. People change."
"Did she change much," asked Harry softly. "After she went to Hogwarts?"
His Aunt sighed. "She became stronger, more independent. She didn't need me anymore. But she was still the same happy, kind person." She shook her head. "Oh, I don't know why I'm saying all this. These things should be forgotten! Well, it doesn't matter anymore." His Aunt stood and robotically began to clean up the table, despite the fact that neither of them had finished lunch.
Taking the hint, Harry stood and left the kitchen.
He did however, pause in the door way and look back at his Aunt. "Thank you."
...
When Harry went up to his room that night, he found on his bed a chain, and he recognised it with a shock. It was his Aunt's, for as long as he could remember she had worn it.
He picked it up with a frown and wondered what it was doing on his pillow.
Hanging on the chain were two rings. They were clearly meant to be worn separately, but they could be joined as one ring as well. One was gold with clear stones, the other silver with little yellow stones.
He tried to slide the rings onto his finger, but they were too small. As he watched though, one became larger, until he could quite comfortably wear it.
He realised with a start that the rings had a charm on them, and knew that his mother must have done it.
His suspicion was confirmed as he inspected the rings closer. The gold one had an inscription on the inside; 'To Lily, with love. Petunia.' The now smaller ring also had an inscription: 'Friends forever, Tuney! Love Lily.' AT the end of the sentence was a small rune, which Harry recognised as one for protection.
He wondered why his Aunt was giving him the necklace, and then recalled what she had said earlier in the kitchen. She wanted to forget. He couldn't imagine why. Perhaps she had regrets. She wanted to move on. Harry could understand that.
oOo
The next day, his Aunt had returned to her usual unpleasant self, stoically standing behind Vernon as he berated Harry for not having completed his chores the previous day.
Harry simply rolled his eyes and headed out to the garden.
He was mowing the lawn when he saw something that made him feel a lot better; Hedwig appeared, soaring through the air and into his open bedroom window.
He finished mowing before it got dark and headed inside for a shower. Then he returned to his room and waited for night to fall.
He was interrupted however, by a quiet knock on the door. He opened it to find Dudley shuffling his feet nervously.
"Dudley, what is it?"
"Can I come in?"
Harry raised an eyebrow, but stepped back, allowing Dudley into the room.
His cousin walked in, and Harry realised that Dudley had lost a lot of weight since the last time he had seen him.
"Looks like that grapefruit diet worked, Duds."
Dudley scowled in remembrance of the diet, and he shook his head. "It was those things."
Harry looked at him quizzically. "What things?"
"Those things that attacked us last summer. They med me see... things."
Harry frowned. "The Dementors?"
Dudley nodded, shivering. "I couldn't sleep for weeks without having nightmares. Mum wanted to take me to a doctor, but I convinced her not to. I said they wouldn't know anything about... you know," Dudley lowered his voice to a whisper, "Magic."
Harry flopped down on his bed, still frowning about what Dudley was saying. "Well, you're probably right there; they wouldn't have been able to help you much. Are you still having nightmares?"
Dudley shook his head. "No, not really. But I feel different, like they did something to me."
Harry looked at his cousin, who was trembling at the memory. He really did seem changed, actually, now that Harry looked closer. he thought over the past few days and realised Dudley hadn't once insulted or threatened him.
"Don't worry, Duds. They didn't do anything to you; it's all mental."
Dudley narrowed his eyes. "I'm not mental!"
Harry sighed. "That's not what I mean. Dementors suck out your soul – believe me, you'd know if that had happened. If you've changed," Harry shrugged, "It's just because you changed, not because they did anything to you."
Perhaps the near death experience had frightened Dudley into getting his act together a bit, and Harry thought that that probably wasn't a particularly bad thing.
"Yeah," Dudley muttered. "Maybe you're right."
There were several minutes of silence during which Harry stared at the ceiling and Dudley looked around the empty room, avoiding going anywhere near Hedwig.
"Thanks," grunted Dudley.
"Huh?"
"Thanks. I mean, I know you saved me from those things. I didn't tell Dad, but that's only because I was shaken up. But I know what you did."
"Oh, well, that's alright. I might not like you much, but I wasn't going to let you have your soul sucked out."
Dudley frowned slightly, but then perked up. "Want to go to the park?" he asked.
"What?"Harry sat up.
"I'm going for a walk. Want to come?"
harry thought about it for a moment. He wasn't really supposed to leave the house, but he knew if he did that someone from the Order would be following him. Another thought occurred to him, and he stood up enthusiastically. "Sure, Duds, why not? Let's just stop downstairs on our way out."
Dudley nodded and they went down the stairs, Dudley calling into the kitchen that they were going out.
Instead of going straight out the front door, Harry went round to the cupboard under the stairs.
Dudley followed, but Harry motioned towards the end of the stairs. "Wait there and make sure your mum doesn't come."
Dudley frowned, but did as he was told, keeping one eye on Harry and the other in the kitchen doorway.
Clearing his mind and focussing, Harry tapped the shiny new padlock. "Alohamora."
A small click sounded in the hallway as the lock popped open, and Harry grinned at Dudley, whose eyes were wide.
Harry dove into the cupboard and dragged out his trunk, flipping the latches and opening the lid.
His belonging lay in there and he grabbed out his invisibility cloak, thinking that he probably should have had it with him the whole time. He had been told to keep it with him at all times.
He closed his trunk and slid the cloak over it, and the trunk disappeared from sight. Dudley audibly gulped.
"Want to help me out her, Duds?"
Dudley nodded reluctantly.
"I need you to grab the other end of the trunk there. Just feel around and you'll find the handle.
Dudley came forward and felt around, his eyes wide. They both found a handle and lifted the trunk into the air. Harry knew they were going to have to be careful. He didn't want whoever was following him to realise they were carrying the trunk, and he told Dudley so.
They left the house, walking about a metre apart, and Harry thought they were doing a pretty good job of looking casual, despite the fact that the trunk was fairly heavy.
The park was only a few blocks away, but Dudley was panting and Harry's fingers were feeling like they were going to drop off by the time they got there.
"Alright, Dudley. We just need to put this down somewhere it won't be seen," muttered Harry. He though the Order member would keep their distance, and he was just hoping they weren't using any listening charms.
Dudley pointed to a small, dark reserve of pine trees on the far side of the park and Harry nodded. They headed over to it and as soon as they passed around a thick bush, they dropped the trunk. Harry quickly stuffed his cloak into his pocket and they did a quick circuit of the small reserve before heading back to the playground and settling on the swings.
They chatted amiably for a while, and Harry found he quite enjoyed it. He couldn't believe how much Dudley had changed.
...
Dinner was a quiet affair. His Aunt had barely spoken a word to him since the day she had spoken about Lily, Dudley had been abnormally quiet the whole time he had been back, and Vernon never talked much while he was eating anyway.
Glad to be out of the awkward silence, Harry left as soon as he had finished eating. To his surprise, Dudley followed him up to his room.
"You're leaving, aren't you? That's why you took all your stuff to the park."
Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I'm leaving. Tonight, actually."
"Oh." Dudley's voice was small, and he sounded somewhat disappointed.
"Mm," murmured Harry. He was slightly disappointed that he wasn't going to get to know this new Dudley, but it really wasn't enough to keep him there.
"D'you think maybe... you could write? You know, just if you have the time or whatever..." asked Dudley, stammering slightly.
"Sure, Duds. I think I could find the time."
Dudley gave a grin then, and Harry returned it. It solved another problem he had been facing.
...
That night Harry waited for the sounds of his uncle's snoring to start before he moved from his bed.
He changed quickly and slipped his wand into his pocket. Salz curled himself around Harry's neck with a quiet hiss, and Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage, quietly ushering her into it. Thankfully she kept quiet, and he left the room, not sparing it another glance.
He paused when he reached the landing though. Putting Hedwig's cage down, he spent a few minutes walking through the house, not really sure why he was doing it. He had no fond memories of this place, but for the first eleven years of his life it had been home.
He left the letter he had written for the Dursleys on the kitchen table. It was short, explaining that if they informed anyone that he was gone that there would be trouble and he would most likely wind up being brought back there to stay the rest of the holidays with them. He was quite sure Vernon would be quite happy to have him gone and would willingly lie to anyone who came asking. He had also impressed these points upon Dudley, who had grudgingly agreed to help him.
He slipped quietly out the back door and around the side of the house, jumping over the front fence instead of opening the gate.
He cast one last look at the house he had grown up in, and noticed a dark figure watching from the living room window. It was Dudley, and he almost raised his hand to wave before he remembered he was invisible. Turning away, Harry started off down the street.
...
The park was dark and quiet. Harry hurried to the reserve of pine trees and found his trunk as he had left it. He performed another wandless Alohamora and opened the trunk, pulling out his broomstick, which lay diagonally across his trunk, barely fitting.
He tied the trunk to the underside of his broomstick and threw a leg over his broom.
It rose slowly with the weight of the trunk, but gradually he was high enough that he didn't think anyone would easily see any part of his trunk or broom not covered by the cloak.
...
It was dawn by the time he settled down in London and he headed directly for King's Cross Station.
He wasn't entirely sure where he was going to go; admittedly he hadn't thought that far ahead, so consumed had he been with simply getting away from Privet Drive without being seen.
He looked over the list of departing trains and saw one that left at midday for a place called Pembroke Dock. He wasn't sure, but he thought it might be on the coast somewhere. He had only seen the ocean twice before; the first time when the Dursleys had gone on a trip to Southend-On-Sea, and the second time when they had been escaping from Harry's letters and had found shelter in the Hut on the Rock.
Harry smiled at the memory and thought that he would like to see the ocean again.
He dragged his trunk to a bathroom and his it in a cleaner's room, under an empty bench. He removed a few things he would need and then locked it, fairly certain that it would be safe for the short time he was gone.
He would be back to catch the train in a few hours, but first he had to make a little trip to Diagon Alley.
Unfortunately, he couldn't use his wand to change his appearance, and he just hoped he wouldn't be recognised.
Before he went anywhere near the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley, he ducked into a muggle building and went to the bathrooms.
He had taken some hair-gel he had found in the bathroom cupboard at Privet Drive. He wasn't entirely sure whose it was; Vernon wouldn't use the product, and his Aunt Petunia was more of a hairspray kind of woman, and he had a sneaking suspicion it had belonged to Dudley.
Facing the mirror, he unscrewed the lid and scooped out some of the goop. Cringing at the chemical fruity smell and the slimy feel on his head, he smoothed it into his hair, and for once his hair stayed down. He swept his hair over in the way he had often seen Uncle Vernon comb his hair, and it hid his scar perfectly. It dried quickly, and his hair felt like plastic.
Just the different hairstyle changed his look quite a bit, and he thought that as long as he didn't see anyone he knew, he would be okay.
For good measure, he tucked his glasses into a pocket and slipped on a pair of sunglasses he had swiped off the kitchen table as he had left. He couldn't see very well, but he wouldn't fall down any manholes, either.
Trying not to laugh at his slightly absurd appearance, he hurried to the Leaky Cauldron. No one paid him any attention as he walked through the pub and out the back, boosting his confidence that his disguise would hold.
The apothecary wasn't the one he usually went to for his school supplies, and as he walked in the man at the counter didn't spare him a second glance.
Harry waited until the shop was empty before approaching the counter.
The man looked up at him, expecting Harry to deposit his purchases on the counter.
Harry spoke. "I'd like to sell some ingredients."
The man eyed him with little interest. "I have a regular supplier for most ingredients."
"Not for these ingredients," argued Harry lightly, slipping three vials from his pocket. He had gathered scales, venom and blood on his last trip to the chamber, and he set them on the cupboard. "Basilisk parts," he said quietly, and the man's eyes widened.
"You'll be the one selling the stock in Hogsmeade, then."
Harry paused. "Perhaps."
The man eyed him more carefully, and then picked up a vial to inspect it. "You seem very young. Where did you come across these?"
Harry gave a small smile. "I couldn't tell you that."
The man seemed to have expected the answer. "Alright, I'll give you 80 Galleons for the lot then."
Harry nodded in agreement at the price. It was enough for any school things he would need for next year, and to last him through the holidays.
Harry took the bag of money that the man filled for him and left quickly, heading back to the train station.
He stopped twice; first at Gringotts, exchanging some of his galleons for pounds, and then again at another apothecary where he purchased several doses of polyjuice potion.
At King's Cross Harry bought his ticket and then found a small cafe where he ate breakfast.
At midday he boarded the train, and with a thrill of elation he had never felt before, he left London.
oOo
Pembroke Dock was a fairly quiet town, and not many people were left on the train by the time it arrived, though many were waiting to board.
The air smelled salty and Harry made his way out into the street. He ducked out of sight for a moment and tied his trunk to his broomstick again, and then threw his cloak over it. He could walk freely now, with the trunk and broom floating behind him, and he followed the sound of waves until he arrived at a rocky stretch of coastline.
The sea was steely grey and the wind had a chill, despite the fact that it was the middle of summer.
There was a ferry docked in the harbour nearby and on a whim, Harry made his way down there.
There were crowds gathering and Harry made his way over to a ticket seller's window. A board said that the ferry was headed to Rosslare, Ireland. He suddenly recalled something Seamus had said once: "We don't get any Death Eaters up our way, in Ireland. Not yet, anyway."
Yes, that would be nice, thought Harry, to be somewhere there were no Death Eaters. With that thought in mind, he purchased a one-way ticket for twenty five pounds and joined the line of people who were waiting for the ferry.
He was extremely excited. He'd never been on a boat before (if he discounted row boats) and he couldn't wait to get on board.
No sooner had he had the thought then the line began to move and no more than three minutes later Harry was sitting in a comfortable lounge with his trunk at his feet and Hedwig's cage beside him.
Fifteen minutes later the ferry, which was called Inishmore, began to move and Harry left the lounge and headed for the deck.
He opened Hedwig's cage and watched as she soared over the ship.
The trip was just under four hours. Harry spent a while on the deck, letting the wind throw salty sea spray over him. Walking was a challenge as the ferry rocked on the waves, and he found it quite entertaining watching people trying to walk around the deck.
After a while it started to rain, and Hedwig came back to him. He staggered over to a door and went back to the lounge where he could watch out the windows.
...
It was raining when the ferry arrived in Rosslare Harbour and Harry followed a large group of people off of the boat.
He felt strange walking on solid land after the rocking ferry, and he stumbled quite a bit as he walked to collect his trunk.
There was a small motel not far from the dock and Harry paid for a single room for the night.
It was as he was finding some dry clothes from his trunk that he heard a tapping on the window and turned to see a grey owl tapping at the window.
Frowning and hoping that this didn't mean anyone could trace him here, Harry opened the window and let the bedraggled bird fly into the room.
The disgruntled owl immediately attacked Hedwig's owl treats, much to the snowy owl's annoyance.
Harry removed the wet letter from the owl and looked at the address. It was from Hermione.
He carefully removed the letter from the envelope and unfolded it. The ink had run a bit, but it was still readable.
Dear Harry,
I know you're still angry at me, but please finish the letter.
I miss you – I miss being your friend, and I'm so sorry for lying to you about everything. I thought we were doing the best thing for you, and I know you don't think that's justification for lying, but that is the reason and I can't defend my actions any more than that.
You should know that Ron wanted to tell you about Tonks; in fact I think he was going to, despite the fact that we'd had dozens of conversations about how he wasn't supposed to. He's been quite upset about the whole thing, and I think you should forgive him, because I hate seeing you two fighting even more than I hate fighting with you.
I really am sorry, Harry, and I hope you can forgive at least one of us.
I hope you'll be coming to Bill and Fleur's wedding and that I'll see you there.
Love, Hermione.
Harry sighed and put the letter aside. Something had to be done about the situation. He'd been angry when he had found out they had known about Tonks, but looking back after so many months it really didn't seem like such a big thing, even though it had felt like a huge betrayal at the time.
He had missed his two best friends the past few months, though probably not as much as he should have, what with having the chamber and Malfoy's companionship.
Thinking about Malfoy made him begin to worry. He wondered if the Slytherin had taken the Dark Mark yet. It had certainly seemed that that was the path Malfoy had chosen towards the end of the term, and Harry wondered yet again if Malfoy had had anything to do with the attack on Hogwarts.
Clearing his mind of the depressing thoughts, Harry practiced Legilimency for a while before falling asleep.
oOo
The next morning before he left the motel Harry scrawled a quick note to the Order assuring them that he was well and good at Privet Drive, and sent the grey owl on its way.
Rosslare was quiet except for the occasional car as he set off. He had no idea where he was headed, but it was that fact which gave him a sense of freedom he had never felt before.
He could hardly believe he was here, and that nobody – nobody – knew where he was.
He continued to walk in the early morning quiet and eventually found himself away from Rosslare and on a muddy, rutted road surrounded by fields. The road he had taken had veered away from the coast some time ago, and he could no longer see the ocean or smell salt on the breeze.
His trunk floated behind him, hanging from his broom and covered by his invisibility cloak. It occurred to him that he should practice wandlessly performing Wingardium Leviosa, or a shrinking spell so that he could carry the trunk in his pocket.
Sometime after he stopped for lunch, he found himself at a crossroad, taking another break. He was sitting on his trunk and trying to decide which way he should go when a quiet rumble sounded behind him and he looked over his shoulder to see a truck slowly ambling along the potholed road.
To his surprise, the truck slowed down and pulled up alongside him.
A fair-haired man stuck his head out the window. "Looking for a lift, are ye?"
Harry looked back the way he had come and then the way he was going. He had been walking for hours and come across not much, and he wasn't sure how far it was to the next town.
"I suppose so," he replied.
"Get in, then. Ye'll not be wanting to walk all the way to the next town."
Harry nodded his thanks and headed around to the passenger side, hefting his trunk onto the back of the truck on his way around.
He climbed into the truck and the man began to drive again.
"Have you a name, then, lad?"
"Harry," he replied, and reached across to shake the man's calloused hand.
"Niall. You'll be English, then?"
Harry nodded. "I'm on my school holidays at the moment, and I thought I'd have a look at Ireland." He gave a small smile. "I've never been overseas before."
Niall chuckled. "Welcome to Ireland, then. How do you like it so far?"
"Well, I only got here yesterday evening, and today I've just been walking down this road, so I haven't seen much at all. It seems nice, though. It's peaceful."
The man nodded in agreement. "That it is."
They drove in silence for a while before the man spoke again. "Where are you headed?"
Harry grinned. "That's a good question. I'm not really sure."
"So you have no plans for your holiday?"
Harry shook his head. "Just wandering."
"Hm... well perhaps I can offer you a job? I need a hand on the farm, and I just dropped my previous helper off at the dock. I can offer you food and board, plus a small wage."
Harry jumped at the opportunity. He hadn't had any idea what he was going to do, and since his path had led him here, he saw no reason to turn Niall down.
They drove for another hour and through a small town called Castleknock before they came to Niall's farm.
It was dark by the time the old red truck pulled up, and the night was silent.
"You can sleep in the barn here," said Niall, pulling up beside a large wooden building.
Harry glanced at it uncertainly.
"Don't worry, it's quite warm and we've set up a living space in there. You'll be nice and comfortable. I'll talk to you tomorrow about some work."
Harry nodded his thanks and went through the small door in the side of the barn. It was mostly empty inside, except for a work bench and some farming equipment. Directly to his left was a set of stairs and Harry went up them, finding the loft to be quite comfortable looking.
It was one large open space, except for what looked like a small bathroom in one corner. There was an old spring bed against one wall and a very small, square table with two chairs in the middle of the room.
To another wall a small and basic kitchen was set up.
Harry went back down the stairs and dragged his trunk up, the pulled out a dry set of pyjamas and got ready for bed.
oOo
Sorry about not updating on Sunday like I said I would. Not my fault though, for once. There was some problem with the site.
I really love Ireland, never been there though, so Harry is going for me. I'm planning for Harry's holidays to be over and done within two or three chapters, so if you don't like the direction the story has taken, hold in there and he'll be back at Hogwarts soon, and you'll see more of Malfoy and the chamber. : )
Please review and tell me what you think!
Thanks to cyiusblack, fhippogriff, nxkris, La Mariane, ams71080, Vanessa riddle, jenstarfire, SHuntress, Jensindenial3516, Forgotten Lake, black-heart-green-eyes, tallica343
and
alex: No, Harry's not retarded. If you need clarification on anything else, feel free to review again...
QuannanHade: hehe ur reviews always make me laugh. Thanks for reviewing : )
Kris: Thank you! And thanks for reviewing, as always : )