CHAPTER TWO
Rescue Dog
While Harry knew that Britain was a large place, it was still startling to experience just how large it was in first person.
There were hundreds of miles between the Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts stood proud, and the upmarket county of Surrey where he had grown up. Several times he had to land in whatever uninhabited spot he came across, be it grassland or forest, and rest his exhausted body. While the potions he had consumed kept him awake, they did little for the fatigue in his bones. Every time he landed for a quick rest, he made sure to stretch his body out before forcing himself to climb back onto his stolen Nimbus 2000 and keep flying before he fell asleep in an unfamiliar terrain.
In all that time he did not dare to remove his Invisibility Cloak, just in case he was spotted by a perceptive Muggle.
Harry flew southward, following the cardinal direction that the moving sun provided him with, but this proved inaccurate. Twice he had to reorient himself when he landed near a town that was too far west, and once he even had to stop when he spotted the coastline to the east. Giving up at that point, he merely followed the eastern coastline from a great height and followed it south, hoping it would lead him to the capital before he reached the white cliffs of Dover.
Harry ignored the biting hunger and desperate thirst he felt as he flew over London from a great height. While the winds were strong and chilly at this altitude, it would keep the few Muggles that could see magic from being able to identify the shape of a broomstick and, hopefully, mistake him for a bird. Whether or not this worked, Harry never found out, but he was able to follow a motorway southwest to Surrey, and through that, found the way towards Little Whinging.
As Harry landed in the park nearest Privet Drive, he forcibly ignored the voice of reason telling him that this was a foolish idea. He had already accepted that it was, but he had no intention of staying for long. He simply needed a place to wash the dried blood and viscera from his body, and to hopefully pick up some of the clothes he had left behind, before departing to parts unknown. While he knew that this would be the first place his pursuers would look for him, he also knew he could not go on for much longer without a meal and a night's rest, and Number Four Privet Drive offered him both.
Dreading the idea of the Dursleys spotting him, as he knew that they would gloat over his misfortune and remind him of their warnings, Harry headed for the footpath behind the house, but only after stuffing his broomstick into his bag. While Dave of Scribbulus Writing Instruments had assured him of his messenger bag's Undetectable Extension Charm, it was still a bit of a struggle to get the broom inside the bag as the stirrups made it too wide unless inserted at an angle. Wishing he could use magic without alerting the Aurors to his location, Harry climbed over the fence into the back garden.
It was lucky he was still wearing his Cloak when he did so.
There, in the garden of the house he had grown up in, were two strangers. A small, mousy haired woman watering the flowers and a little girl, that could only be her daughter, playing with her dolls. Harry stumbled back, bumping into the fence, afraid that he had jumped into the wrong garden, but he recognised both the shed and the winding path that led to the house. The house that he had grown up in.
Like most small children, the little girl seemed to possess the perception to see through the Veil, as she glanced up at the sound that he had made bumping into the fence. Unlike her mother, who continued to water the plants without pause, the child seemed to stare right at Harry. If he hadn't been wearing his Cloak, she would have been screaming for her mother at the sight of his bloody form.
Carefully avoiding the two strangers, Harry made his way around the house, through the side gate, in order to examine the front. Yes, there it was. Number Four Privet Drive. If, for some reason, he hadn't recognised the outside of the house, the Number on the front door would have been enough to tell him what he already feared.
The Dursleys had moved.
Harry remembered the odd interaction between Vernon and himself when the man had been dropping him off at King's Cross Station on September 1st. Vernon had looked guilty as he opened his mouth to say something, but he ended up just driving away. Petunia had ignored him all summer, even more then she had before, from the day Hagrid had arrived as though she had already cut him out of her life.
If Harry were a pettier, he would track them down through Dudley's school, Smelting's, and scold them for moving without telling him. For deserting him without telling him. But he wasn't, and he had much more important things to deal with than the Dursleys. Besides, it wasn't as if he cared about their abandonment of him.
Or at least that's what he told himself, as he walked away from Privet Drive for the last time.
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Harry thought he had been walking around aimlessly, but he soon realised that his feet were taking him to St. Greggory's Primary School. He didn't fight it, as he needed a place to rest for a few hours, at least until he figured out what he was going to do next.
Walking around his old school, Harry headed for his secret hideaway by the river. Feeling safe as he entered the grove, he removed his Cloak, stuffing it in his bag, yawning. It had been his secret sanctuary, from both school and the Dursleys during the long summer holidays, and it was something that he had never shared with someone else.
Except, Harry was forced to remember by the sight in front of him, for one other person.
The sound of his footsteps must have alerted her, as she glanced up from where she sat reading underneath his favourite tree. Sara hadn't changed all that much in the ten months since he had last seen her, and her face looked exactly as he remembered, although it was a little difficult to tell by the way it twisted in terror at the mere sight of him.
At the sight of him.
Harry froze when he realised that Sara could perceive his presence despite his bronze Ouroboros. He had been planning to walk right past her to another one of the pathways that led to the local library, but now he froze. They both stared at each other for a long moment and, much to his shame, it was Sara who broke the silence first.
"Harry? Is that you?" She asked, tentatively. Not knowing what to say, he just nodded stiffly. "What are you doing here? Your family moved away last September!" She quickly got to her feet and approached him.
Harry wasn't sure what surprised him more, how happy she was to see him or that the Dursleys had moved away as soon as he had left. They really didn't waste any time, did they? His derisive thoughts were cut off by Sara's arms wrapping around him. He stood there, not sure of what to do, until she released him.
"Are you okay?" She asked, not sounding offended that he hadn't hugged her back. Her neat Ladbroke Academy uniform was mercifully undirtied by the various dried species blood that coated his Silver Spears uniform. "What are you wearing? Is that blood?"
"I'm okay." Harry confirmed, before distracting her from the other two questions with a question of his own. "Are you okay?"
Sara looked surprised. "Of course I am! Why would you ask that?"
Harry glanced at his watch. "Its almost four on a Friday afternoon, but instead of going home or hanging out with your new Ladbroke friends, you're here, hiding behind your old primary school."
Sara's shoulders tensed. "I could say the same of you, and you go to school in Scotland."
Harry smiled weakly. "I won't ask if you don't." He made his way to the tree, intending on taking a long nap underneath its shade. Before he could make it there, Sara grabbed his arm.
"Alright, no questions. But you're a mess." She pointed out. "Let's go to my place."
Harry raised his eyebrow. "What about your family?" He was eager to avoid the possibility of more people knowing he was ever here.
Sara shrugged. "My dad won't be back until after I'm in bed, my sister moved out now that she's engaged, and my brother's gone backpacking. It's just me." Harry noticed the conspicuous lack of mention of her mother, which gave him a better idea of what she was doing here alone, but he wanted to avoid questions and respected her desire to do the same. Nodding he allowed her to lead him to her home on Wisteria Walk, the two walking in companionable silence.
Along the way, he noticed Sara side eyeing him whenever they passed other people. It was after school, so there were plenty of school kids hanging around enjoying the summer air, and parents chatting while their small children consumed ice-creams and chased each other around on a sugar high. She was clearly baffled by the lack of attention Harry was receiving in his strange, bloodstained garb, but Harry wasn't. Only one in a thousand Muggles could see through the Veil, which made Sara a rare breed.
When they had reached her home, Sara pointed right upstairs. "The bathroom is the first door on you left." She shooed him to the stairs, ignoring his weak protests. "I'll get some of Scott's old clothes for you to wear." Not hating the idea of finally washing the blood and viscera from his form, Harry climbed the stairs and followed the simple directions to the bathroom.
He took off the uniform in a hurry, throwing every bit of it off his body without care, only being careful with his bronze Ouroboros as it was one of the few relics he had from his time with his parents, and the messenger bag which was too useful to discard. Harry took the Ouroboros into the shower with him, washing it clean of all that dirtied it before he even began to wash himself, but when he began to do so, he felt it difficult to stop.
It was a long while before he felt clean again, and longer still for him to feel comfortable enough to leave the shower. Opening the door to find the offered clothes folded neatly on the floor in front of the bathroom, Harry changed into them and carried all of his things downstairs. "Is it okay if I put these in the wash?" He asked Sara unsurely. Both because he was unaware if it were a rude thing to ask in someone else's home and because he wasn't sure if enchanted fabric was something you could even put in a washing machine.
Sara shrugged from where she sat in front of the television. "Be my guest."
Once Harry had done so and had taken a seat on the sofa beside her, she turned to him. "Hungry?"
"Like you wouldn't believe." Harry responded, beyond politeness.
Sara smiled. "My dad left money for a takeaway, and he always gives me way too much, so what are you in the mood for?"
"Pizza." Harry said, avoiding the second comment about her dad. Did she want him to ask?
"You can't go wrong with pizza."
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. Harry wasn't exactly sure when he had nodded off, but one moment he was enjoying a stomach full of pizza and a mediocre sitcom playing on the television, and the next he awoke to a dark house and the feeling of someone shaking him.
"I put your clothes in the dryer for you." Sara was saying as she presented him with his uniform. "Do you have anywhere to go tonight?"
Harry was too drowsy to come up with a lie. "No."
She smiled, far too happy with that answer. "You can stay here if you want."
Harry smiled sleepily. "I don't think your dad would like that too much." He frowned, glancing at the clock. It was half past ten. "Isn't he back yet?"
Sara's smile slipped. "He'll be back when the pub kicks him out."
Harry was awake now, focusing on her properly. "Your mum is okay with that?"
"She's the reason he's trying to drown himself in booze." Sara snorted bitterly. "She left him a few months back."
Harry heard the implied us in that statement. "Oh."
She continued. "For my science teacher."
Harry winced. "Wow, that's bad." He could now guess why she hadn't been hanging out with her friends from Ladbroke's after school, if she had managed to keep any of them after such a scandal. He knew from experience that anything could be weaponised against you by bullies, and nothing was better than drama involving your family. "Do your brother and sister know?" Sara shook her head but didn't explain why. "You should tell them. It's about their parents too. Besides, you shouldn't be on your own."
"You mean like you?" She responded sharply.
He leaned back. "Ouch."
Sara grimaced. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
Harry thought that she did but was too tired to make a fuss over it. "It's your life." He shrugged. "Are you going to finish that?" He gestured to the stack of pizza crusts remaining in the box.
"No." She wrinkled her nose. "Pizza crust is disgusting."
"You're doing me a favour by letting me stay here tonight, so I'm going to ignore you said that."
Harry spent the night in Scott's room and, thanks to the vial of Dreamless Sleep he had stolen from the Hospital Wing, woke up the next morning without suffering from the nightmares that he could almost feel lurking in the corners of his mind.
It took him a minute to remember where he was and what had led him to being there, which was enough to kill his morning cheer. Rising out of the bed, he made his way to the bathroom to take care of his morning ablutions, silently thanking Sara for thoughtfully providing him with a toothbrush, as the Mouth-Cleaning Charm was no longer safe to use.
Making his way back to Scott's room, he froze on the landing when he heard a man's raised voice coming from the kitchen. All the potions he had consumed had done a number on him, because despite all the pizza he had eaten yesterday, his stomach felt like a hollow pit. So, he headed downstairs for the kitchen despite the raised voices once he had dressed in his Silver Spears uniform.
He was relying on the notion that Sara seemed to be the only person older than three who seemed to be able to pierce the Veil in this town but was saved from finding out as the front door slammed closed just as he was climbing down the stairs.
"Breakfast?" Sara asked, once he entered the kitchen. She indicated the cereal box she was already eating from.
Harry decided to politely ignore the argument he overheard. "Yes, please." He said gratefully, helping himself.
"I don't know where you put it all." Sara was shaking her head in wonder as Harry scarfed down his third bowl. "After all that pizza you ate?" Something about her comment left him feeling self-conscious so, as soon as he was done eating, he stepped towards the sink in order to clean his bowl. To his surprise, Sara joined him, despite finishing her own breakfast minutes ago.
They both cleaned their bowls and spoons at the same, a strange silence having settled over them. Harry could feel her tension, a tension that had been their yesterday, but he had been too tired to comprehend properly. Before he could think to ask what was on her mind, she spoke.
"I'm glad you're here." Her voice was quiet, barely audible over the sound of the running water. "I've missed having you around." Harry tried to keep the surprise off his face, but she must have seen it anyway, because she quickly asked, "Wasn't it the same for you?"
"Was what the same for me?" He wasn't sure what she was getting at.
Sara's eyebrows knitted together. "Did you miss me?"
"Oh! Yes, of course." While he had thought of her here and there throughout the year, Harry honestly couldn't say if that was the truth or not, but Sara seemed to take his answer as a negative when her hands clenched around her squeaky-clean bowl.
"I thought about you a lot, especially since the trip to the zoo."
Harry started. "I thought nothing happened at the zoo." Harry had thought Lupin had used a Memory Charm on her. Was it only temporary? No, what would be the point in that?
Before he could figure it out, she spoke again. "You're the only person I know who was completely honest with me when I asked you to be. Not even my family can say the same." Her voice had a dark edge to it as she spoke on her family. "No matter how much my mum and dad talk about family secrets and trust, they can never be honest when it counts."
Harry put his bowl in the drying rack before turning to her. "What are you talking about?"
Sara turned to face him, a curious expression on her face. As he watched her mouth open, he couldn't help but focus on how close they were standing together. "I'm saying I missed you."
Harry was about to say something, but he immediately forgot what that was when Sara leaned forward and firmly pressed her lips to his.
His mind, already chaotic from yesterday's events, was shattered into three parts by her sudden kiss. Each fragment was centred forcefully on a divergent train of thought.
The first fragment was intensely focused on the feeling of her soft lips and how they tasted like the sugary cereal they had just eaten together. Her blonde hair (when had he reached for her hair?) was soft against his fingers, and he took comfort in how warm she felt against him.
The second fragment was the part of himself that remembered the small crush he had harboured for her at St. Greggs. This part was both embarrassed at this turn of events and secretly pleased by it. It was the part that regretted going to Hogwarts at all, the part that wished he had never been a wizard and never had to learn what he had learned the night before. He would have stayed in Little Whinging with Sara, and they would have helped each other in all the ways that their families should have done. He would have been much happier living that life than the one he was stuck living now.
It was the third fragment that saved his life.
His year at Hogwarts had taken a suspicious boy and transformed him into a paranoid one. A small part of him was unable to believe this turn of events, so his senses, so keenly honed in both duelling and Quidditch, were on high alert. While his eyes had been closed during the kiss, his sharp ears were not hindered at all, which was how he picked up on the softest of impacts from the foyer as the front door was closed.
Tearing himself away from Sara, Harry drew his wand from its holster as he turned on his heel and shouted, "Protego!", just in the nick of time. The taser wires that had been aimed at his back were deflected by his Shield Charm, allowing him to see his attacker. Harry felt his stomach drop when he recognised his attacker.
It was Mr. Bridger.
Harry glanced at Sara, but when he noticed her watching them both through wide, but not surprised eyes, he turned back to her father. The pieces had begun to fall into place, but he needed to be sure. "You're a Witch-Hunting family?" He asked, trying to sound unimpressed. "I thought your kind were extinct."
Mr. Bridger began to say something, probably about the virtue of murdering children who were born different and how Harry was headed for eternal damnation or whatever, but he didn't want to hear it.
"Lumos Solem!" Both Bridgers cried out as the incredibly bright flash of light temporarily blinded them. Harry had caught a glimpse of the crossbow that had been strapped to attacker's back and didn't want to give him a chance to use it now that he wasn't tightly pressed against his daughter. "Stupefy!" The red jet of light caught the man in the chest and fell to the ground in a heap.
"Dad!" Sara cried.
"Don't worry about him, he's only knocked out." Harry's voice was dark. "You should be more worried about what I'm going to do to you."
Sara's eyes were as wide as can be and she had already pressed herself against the cupboards when Harry had cast the Shield Charm, but when Harry had only begun to threaten her, she somehow looked even more terrified. "I didn't want to do it! He saw your uniform and when he heard you move around upstairs, he went to get a weapon." Tears had begun to stream down her face, but Harry was unmoved. "He said he was only going to ask you questions."
"Your family are Witch-Hunters?" Harry needed to know how long he had been in danger without realising it.
"Only my dad, and he gave it up before my sister was born!" Her voice was too panicked to not be telling the truth, Harry silently decided. "My mum can't see the strange stuff that goes on, neither can my brother or sister."
"So, it's just you and your dad then?"
Sara nodded rapidly. "I didn't even know he could see the things I could until Mr. Lupin came."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Explain."
"After what happened at the reptile enclosure, he came round our house that same night and he waved his magic wand at my family before trying to erase my memories."
"Trying to?"
"My dad says it doesn't work on special people. After Mr. Lupin left, no one but my dad and me remembered he was ever there. He told me about witches and how his family used to hunt them." She looked at him, with either worry or regret. "I'm sorry I told you I couldn't remember any of it."
Harry shook his head, amazed. He knew now, from History of Magic classes, that Witch-Hunters were a worldwide force, prevalent but divided, hundreds of thousands strong, and even outnumbering the Auror Corps ten to one. But still, he never expected to have one living down the street from where he had grown up, he never expected them to be so normal. He could still remember Mr. Bridger inviting him in for breakfast before school, but the second he knew that Harry was different, he took a shot at his back.
Before Harry could figure out what to say to her, he heard several cracks! coming from outside. Knowing that it was the Aurors tracking his use of Martial Spells in a Muggle home, Harry pointed his wand at Sara's face. "Stupefy!" The jet of red light knocked her out immediately, leaving her to slump against the kitchen cupboards.
Even though he now knew that her mind wasn't susceptible to Memory Charms, Harry had no idea if the same could be said for Legilimency. He wanted to keep the method of his escape a secret from those pursuing him and even if it wasn't necessary, he didn't have to deal with the consequences. It wasn't like he was going to ever see a Witch-Hunter's daughter ever again.
Summoning his Invisibility Cloak, Harry waited in a corner of the sitting room for the sweeping Aurors to move past him before making his way out the still open door. As he did so, he heard one of them cast a Human-Presence-Revealing Spell before calling out to their comrades. "I've only got two Muggles. Whoever did this is long gone."
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Harry quickly learned how boring life on the run could be.
The first day was still the most exciting, but only because he had no idea how he was going to survive on his own. Still feeling an ache in his left calf, he headed for a large hospital in North London, miles away from Little Whinging. When Harry took off his bronze Ouroboros, the doctors and nurses had given him strange looks because of his duelling gear, but Harry was beyond caring.
"I'm in a school play." He said, and when the doctor seeing to him looked unconvincing, he added, "We have a really good costume department."
The doctor hummed, temporarily deciding to cease questioning his attire. "Well, your injury looks weeks old, but it's healing nicely." He looked at Harry over his slipping glasses. "Are you sure you haven't been to a hospital?"
Forced to stick with that story, Harry merely nodded. "All I can do is wrap your leg in bandages and tell you to not put too much weight on it." He paused before continuing, "I can prescribe you something for the pain, but only if your parents were here." He looked at Harry as though he expected him to break down and tell him the truth of what brought him here, but Harry just smiled at him.
"Thank you, doctor."
The doctor left the room, throwing a concerned look over his shoulder and the moment he left the room, Harry jumped out of bed onto his newly bandaged leg. He had seen enough hospital dramas on the television in the Dursley's attic to know what happened next. The concerned doctor would call someone who worked for the government, someone who looked out for kids in trouble. He remembered considering calling the number they would show on the screen after these episodes before talking himself out of it.
At least he knew what the Dursleys were capable of, he had told himself, What if whoever comes next is worse?
Harry had gone to Hogwarts and learned just how worse things could get.
He summoned his Invisibility Cloak and slipped on his Ouroboros before ducking out of the room. While he was sure the doctor meant well and the person who he was obviously calling must be trustworthy to deal with at risk kids, they would in no way be prepared for the trouble Harry would bring to their door. So, wishing he could have at least spent the night in the hospital bed, he left the building to go find somewhere to spend the night.
It was the middle of June, and the weather reflected that, so it didn't take long for him to grow sick of wandering the busy London streets under the cover of his stuffy Cloak. He took a detour into the nearest clothing store but, with just a glance at the prices, he turned right around back towards the baking streets as he couldn't justify spending that much on a single item of clothing.
Following a harried looking mother who was shepherding two small, rowdy boys who were asking repeatedly for shoes with wheels, Harry found the local Shopping Centre, and inside that, a familiar branded clothing store. Much more comfortable with this, he began pulling clothes off the rack, only stopping at a single outfit when he remembered even an Undetectable Extension Charm had its limits. Leaving the appropriate amount of Muggle money, he had exchanged in Gringotts just two days ago (had it really only been two days?) by the till, Harry walked into the changing room to get out of his stifling duelling gear.
When he had finished dressing himself in t-shirt, shorts and trainers, Harry examined himself in the mirror. It had only been a day since he had looked into his own reflection in the Mirror of Erised, but he felt completely different. If he looked into the Mirror now, would he see the same thing? His family having never been separated? Or perhaps a more concrete goal, such as the key to freeing them from their individual prisons? He had no idea how long he had stood there, lost in his thoughts, but he was startled out of it when there was a knock on the door.
"Hello? Is there someone in there?"
The shop assistant continued to knock, asking if he needed help, while he gathered his things. Pausing only to check himself in the mirror one last time (wand holsters look really awkward when wearing shorts, Harry thought) before opening the door and walking out of the store, leaving the bewildered Shop Assistant to stare at the empty changing room.
It was only when the sun began to set, late in the evening, that Harry finally decided to admit the inevitable. He wasn't going to sleep rough, not when there were other options available to him. His Ouroboros and Invisibility Cloak gave him access to places that other runaway kids could only dream of: Hotels.
Having already decided to get in without paying, he decided to go for the best, so he jumped into the back of a black cab that was idling outside of a train station as soon as he took off his Ouroboros.
"I've got cash." Harry told the driver as soon as he opened his mouth, waving a twenty-pound note. "I'm just supposed to meet my dad at the hotel. He said it was the nearest one to the station. He called it The…" Harry paused as though he were struggling to recall.
"The Hotel Babylon?" The driver asked, and when Harry nodded, he complained. "You could walk there faster than I could drive you with this traffic."
Harry stared at him. "Do I look as though I walk places?" He asked in his most pompous voice. The driver said nothing else to him, just turning around to merge his car into the slow-moving traffic, all while muttering about rich brats. He was right though, it would have been much faster for Harry to walk as it was only ten minutes away even with all the traffic, but he needed the directions without asking for the directions.
When the black cab came to a stop in front of the hotel, Harry passed him the twenty-pound note and told him to "Keep the change", before stepping out onto pavement. Slipping his Ouroboros back on, Harry stared up at the magnificent building. It was a marvellous white hotel, ten stories tall, wide enough to take up the entire block and upheld with impressive columns. With the lights that were subtly placed behind the white barriers shining up at it, the building was illuminated in a beautiful golden glow against the darkening blue sky.
Repressing the thoughts that were telling him that he didn't belong in a place this fancy, Harry walked up the marble steps and pulled the door open for himself, baffling the poor doorman as he went. He examined the giant entrance foyer with the floors that were so clean they gleamed, before strolling right past the front desk and the elevators. Harry made his way to the stairs, climbing to the first floor as he began his search for an empty room.
After several awkward failures where the inhabitants of the rooms answered the door upon knocking, he climbed back down to the ground floor, slipping on his Cloak in case any of the Muggles proved perceptive, and made his way to the front desk. Wishing he could cast a Confundus Charm, Harry had to hang around the lobby for nearly an hour until the man behind the desk finally went to go help a guest, allowing him to take his place.
Slipping behind the desk, he made his way to the computer, managing to add a Terrance Goldstein to the first available room he saw. He never would have known to do that if he hadn't seen the man welcome a guest twenty minutes ago. Snatching the appropriate key, Harry scarpered just as the man made his return. For one terrible moment, he paused, and Harry was sure that he knew something was wrong, but then he just sneezed, and he felt like a moron.
Making his way to his room on the third floor, Harry opened the door to find a suite twice the size of his dormitory back at Hogwarts with a television bigger than any Dudley had owned and a bathroom that had a bathtub big enough for Hagrid to squeeze into. For the first time since he had opened that blasted envelope, he felt a genuine smile spread across his face.
Oh, I could get used to this, Harry thought.
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Which, after five days, became the exact problem.
Harry whiled away his days in the lap of luxury, switching rooms every morning under a different name so as not to attract attention. But this minor form of subterfuge was the most excitement he had that week. Harry shouldn't have been so surprised, because while he might daydream about the childhood he could have had with his parents or the mundane alternate life he could have explored with Sara, he knew deep down that he craved excitement and the experience of new things. At Hogwarts he had satisfied that itch by learning new magic, duelling, Quidditch and causing trouble with the other Marauders. Here, the only exciting thing he experienced was avoiding the guy who brought him room service.
Harry knew he shouldn't crave danger anymore, not after what had happened with Voldemort just last week, but he couldn't help it. Besides, focusing on that while eating too much room service in his fluffy robe while watching a television that was pointed right at his bed (Harry had already decided to get an Odeon pointed right at his bed if he ever got his own place) was much easier than focusing on what was really bothering him.
Five days cooped up in this fancy hotel had left him restless, as the most exercise he had was the walking around he did to stretch out his still aching leg as he explored every inch of the hotel, so he wound up being unable to sleep. Even when he eventually managed to nod off it was only for a few hours, as the nightmares of what had occurred during the gauntlet kept waking him up. As such, he yearned for something to do, something that would distract him from his dark thoughts and darker nightmares.
His need for excitement came during his sixth morning at the hotel, and it occurred during the most embarrassing time.
Harry realised later that the room keys being returned after a single night with no records of payments being made was bound to stir up some confusion from the Muggles who managed the place, and that they would soon investigate, but as he was too wrapped up in feeling sorry for himself, he didn't think twice about it. This came to bite him on the backside.
Lying in his warm bubble bath, Harry's eyes snapped open when he heard the suite door do the same. Leaping out of the bathtub, Harry only had time to reach for his bronze Ouroboros before the bathroom door was abruptly opened. Later, he would tell himself that none of the Muggle security guards could see him, so it didn't matter that he was naked and dripping wet with soap bubbles in his hair, but the mere thought of it still made him want to die of shame.
That should have been the end of it, but one of the guards spoke to the other. "No one in here, but the bath is full and his clothes are here." The guard narrowed his eyes. "Kids clothes." He was clearly expecting someone older.
"He left his bag too." Said the other guard, lifting Harry's bag. "Should we wait?"
Harry never found out what the other guard was going to say, as he had summoned his Invisibility Cloak (feeling much braver now that his privates weren't in the open air) and slipped around them towards his wand. Whether they couldn't see it or just didn't think a polished length of wood was a threat to them, Harry didn't care as he counted himself lucky that they just hadn't taken it. Turning on them he cast two Stunning Spells on two Muggles for the second time in a week.
Dressing himself in his fluffy robe before gathering his things, Harry felt the deepest regret that he didn't know how to cast the Memory Charm. The Aurors who came would likely get a kick out of the fact that he was almost caught naked in the bathroom.
Harry was forced to clean himself up in another room. Uncaring of the tracks he left behind, he ran from the ninth floor to the fifth, as he knew from the Auror's Enchiridion that Auror squads often split into two groups once they had tracked magical activity to tall buildings, one coming from below and another from the roof. Harry randomly stopped at the door to the eighth suite, opening it with his kindjal, leaving the lock in pieces and entering the room.
Mercifully, it was empty of guests, so Harry swiftly entered the bathroom to the wash the soap off of his body as quickly as he could. Once he had done that, he dressed himself and carefully examined his things, making sure he didn't leave anything behind for Auror custody, before leaving the room under the cover of his Invisibility Cloak.
As he headed towards the stairwell, he came across two Aurors marching down the corridor, examining each room for magical activity as they went. Stomach dropping, as it was only a matter of time before they came across the magically damaged door, Harry hid in a corner, as silently as he could until they arrived at the suite he had just entered. Harry saw them both stiffen and nod at each other before kicking the already ajar door wide open and going in wand first.
Harry used this opportunity to hurry to the stairwell, wanting to leave the Aurors far behind.
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Harry wished he could say that the rest of the afternoon was tame in comparison, but things only got worse from there.
Once he made it outside the Hotel Babylon, he didn't waste any time trying to put as much distance between himself and the searching Aurors as possible. He ducked into the nearest Tube station and took a random train headed to nowhere he had heard of before. Harry crashed into a seat, not feeling safe enough to take of his Cloak despite the summer heat, and carefully watched the doors for any pursuers. When no visible wizards entered, he relaxed a little, and got off a few stops later when he felt his heartrate finally return to normal.
Taking the escalators back to the surface, Harry stepped out onto an ordinary, if a little busier than usual, London street that neighboured the Thames. Following an advertisement for the local shopping centre, which was boasting about its own cinema, he felt watching a movie would be a good distraction from his problems.
That was all he was doing these days, distracting himself from his problems. It was far easier to ignore the three impossible tasks that lay before him than to acknowledge just how far out of his depth he really was.
Pushing that incessant train of thought to one side, Harry entered the cinema under the cover of his Cloak, leaving cash next to the till and entering the theatre that was playing an animated movie. Finally feeling safe in the darkness and under the colourful glow of singing animated characters, Harry finally took off his Invisibility Cloak and relaxed against the cushy seat.
A couple hours later, he left the cinema in a better mood than he had entered it with. His appetite had returned in full force, so he wandered down to the food court to eat an unhealthy amount fried anything. While he sat at a table by himself, digging in to his second meal of the day, he had the oddest sensation that he was being watched. Frowning, he examined his surroundings carefully.
Harry immediately saw what was bothering him. In his peripheral, he had only glimpsed what he clearly saw now: A middle aged, portly man standing on another level and staring at him with a blank expression on his face. That wasn't all. When he looked carefully, Harry noticed that he wasn't the only one. There was a young woman lining up to place her sandwich order that kept glancing at him and another, older woman who sat by the fountain on the ground floor that was laser focused on him.
Harry didn't understand what was going on. While he had taken off his bronze Ouroboros briefly to place his meal order, no one but another witch or wizard should have been able to perceive his presence now that he had it back on. They could either be Muggles who the Veil had no effect on, or they could be witches and a wizard who were shopping amongst Muggles and just happened across the Boy-Who-Lived. But, if either of those things were true, what were the odds of all three being at the same place at the same time?
Harry's eyes narrowed when he caught a glint of bronze on the young woman's wrist. They were wizards then, but not Aurors. One of Voldemort's perhaps? Harry supposed it didn't matter either way, as they were a threat to him since they had somehow managed to track him down at all.
How? Harry wondered. I wasn't tracked for five days before this. What did I do wrong now?
He would probably get that question answered if he stuck around, but Harry's curiosity wasn't enough for him to trade for his freedom.
Standing up so quickly that his chair went flying, Harry made a run for the escalators, and from hearing the various yells of surprise coming from the Muggles behind him, he knew that the three were in hot pursuit. Harry hadn't even made it halfway there before a jet of purple light flew inches above his head, colliding with the top of the escalator and setting the entire moving staircase on fire with violet flames.
Immediately changing directions, Harry ran for the bright red fire alarm on the wall, pulling it as soon as he was within reach.
There was a sudden, wailing, caterwaul that was let out throughout the building in conjunction with a flashing blue light and the dousing, indoor rain of a hundred sprinklers. The sound repeated itself every few seconds letting everyone in the vicinity know that they needed to evacuate the shopping centre. Harry couldn't help but notice that the water did nothing to douse the purple fire that only seemed to grow by the second.
He wished he had the chance to even think of a way to put out the flames, but the repeated spell fire from his adversaries left him hardly enough to time to breathe, much less think. He paused a little too long when he was thinking of his next move and one of the spells, a disturbingly familiar Gouging Charm, would have hit him in the head if it wasn't for a fleeing shop assistant coming in between them at exactly the right moment.
Harry spared the screaming man a glance as he fell to the ground, clutching his already blood seeped side, before turning on his heel and running away. As much as he would like to help the poor man, the only way he could do so in this situation was to lead the attackers away from any more of the fleeing Muggles and wait for the Aurors to arrive. One of them will heal him, Harry tried to convince himself, He won't die here.
Harry knew that he couldn't outrun three pursuing adult wizards, not without exposing his methods of concealment and travel, so he decided to make his stand within the shopping centre, where he would have resources to fight and places to hide.
If he managed to get a little distance first.
Harry jabbed his wand over his shoulder. "Lumos Solem!" He heard winces of pain, shock and confusion come from the Muggles that were between him and his pursuers, and Harry used the opportunity to duck low and enter the nearest store: A clothes shop.
Having done what little he could for the Muggles around him, Harry knew it was past time he concentrated on saving himself. As he ran past isles of clothing racks, he flicked his wand at every one that he ran past. "Depulso Clothes! Oppugno!" Clumsily rolling over the till, Harry took cover behind it as he observed the results of his efforts.
Much to his initial confusion, and then worry, he saw that only the portly man had followed him inside the clothes shop. After a quick glance around to make sure that they weren't trying to sneak up on him, Harry forcibly pushed the thought of their current positions from his mind. He'd worry about them after he dealt with his present adversary.
Speaking of which, the portly man was forced to deal with the tsunami of clothes that had set themselves free of their hangers to wash past him over the rail to the ground floor, obscuring his vision while a dozen or so metal clothes racks had surrounded him for repeated attacks as they zoomed towards him on their squeaky wheels.
Unfortunately for Harry, the man was doing terribly well against his initial attack. He held his ground, taking the hits from the clothes racks without forfeiting a single step, and using the General-Counter-Spell to remove the Attack Charm from the clothes racks one by one.
However, even in just the few seconds in which he observed the man, Harry noticed something; He wasn't a duellist. How could he be? In all the duels that he had watched at school and on the Odeon, Harry had taken note that even the most amateur of duellist took care to avoid even the most harmless attacks in case it was a distraction for a second more critical attack.
Taking this into account, Harry approached the man as stealthily as he could, keeping low and hiding his increasing proximity by only moving when the few racks that were still attacking were blocking his eyeline to Harry. When the last of the attacking clothes racks had been returned to their normal state, Harry made his move. "Carpe Noctem!"
The portly man had turned to Harry the second he was unoccupied and immediately raised his wand to defend himself against the jet-black spell that was soaring towards him. "Protego!" He bellowed, just as Harry had hoped. The Nightmare Hex sailed through his Shield Charm like it wasn't even there and struck the man in the chest. Harry had guessed that an inexperienced duellist wouldn't know to block an Illusion Spell with an Anti-Martial Shield Charm rather than the standard version. What he hadn't predicted was what happened next.
The man began to scream as he was made to see the worst horrors he could imagine, but he stumbled too far back in order to get away from his nightmares, so far that he fell backwards right over the rail. Harry watched in horror as he tipped over, landing with an audible thud not even a second later on the ground floor.
Harry ran right out of the clothes shop and peered over the rail, just to see the portly man weakly thrashing on the polished granite floor. "Carpe Diem!" Harry cast hurriedly, and the man finally stopped moving his injured form. Harry was just about to go down and check up on him, but he had temporarily forgotten that he had other pursuers.
While he was looking down, he noticed that his shadow was rapidly changing. Glancing up, he saw that a jet of purple light had been shot at him from a higher floor and had been about to hit him in the crown of his head. Leaping backwards, the spell struck the railing he had been leaning over and it erupted with the same purple flames that had overtaken the escalators a minute earlier.
Before he could examine his still unidentified fourth pursuer, the two women from earlier were both coming at him from different directions. Harry understood then that they had gone around to stop him if he used another exit and his fourth adversary had called them back. He was going to have to deal with Number Four later, as the other two were now close enough to fire spells directly at him as they ran in his direction.
Harry hurried back to the food court, hoping to reach it before the younger of the two cut him off. Harry just made it to the pizza place, rolling over the counter as the younger woman's Exploding Curse hit one of the tables.
Harry made a note of her bad aim and weak curse, as he suspected that just like the portly man, she had little experience with Martial spells. Why are they attacking me then? Harry wondered as he hurried into the kitchen. Voldemort didn't permit weakness when he was teaching me, so why would he accept it from his followers?
Despite hating the feeling that he was playing a game without knowing the rules, Harry had to put it out of his mind for now. He had an idea of how to deal with whoever entered the kitchen after him, but he needed to time it perfectly, so there was no room for a distracted mind.
Snatching up a handful of metal cooking instruments as he ran past the preparation counters, Harry paused only to loosen the lids of two plastic containers that must have had a gallon of cooking oil each, before stopping in front of the microwave and set it to twenty seconds.
Behind him, he heard the younger woman's footsteps finally make it into the pizza place and rapidly head towards the kitchen where Harry wasn't bothering to keep his actions quiet. He paused for a couple of seconds, knowing that he was going to have to time this perfectly for the best result.
When he guessed that he had waited long enough, Harry threw the haphazard arrangement of spatulas, serving spoons and tongs inside it before pressing start and making a run for the employee exit. "Alohomora! Arbeto!" The door unlocked and burst open, and Harry dived inside, jabbing his wand behind him at the containers of cooking oil and shouting, "Flipendo! Flipendo!"
Harry managed to glimpse the containers flip into the air chaotically, strewing their very flammable hoard around every corner of the kitchen before he closed the door. Even though he wasn't sure if the woman had entered the kitchen in time, Harry ran down the service corridor as he didn't want to be anywhere near the kitchen for what happened next.
Which was good, because not even five seconds after he had closed the kitchen door there was an explosion so powerful that it lifted him off his feet and made his ears ring. Throwing his hands out, Harry managed to protect his head when he landed, and despite the new aches in his body, he managed to scramble back up and continue running down the service corridor without looking back.
As he did, he tried not to reflect on what he had just done. He couldn't hear footsteps behind him, which meant the woman was either dead or so injured that she couldn't continue to give chase. Either way, Harry had been ruthless in his defence, and while this bothered him, he forced himself to see the bigger picture. He had allowed his empathy to distract him when the man fell to the ground floor, and he had almost been set ablaze with purple fire for his efforts. He needed to think of himself first because no one else would.
Finally reaching the door to the stairwell, Harry used his wand to open it as he didn't want to break his pace, which might have been a mistake. Waiting for him on the other side was the old woman. Harry skidded to a stop and immediately began to run back in the direction he had come from, but the woman didn't give him a chance.
"Sectumsempra!" Harry wasn't sure what that spell did, so he didn't try to shield against it. Throwing himself on the ground, he lashed his foot out against the still swinging door that separated the two of them and watched in dull horror as it was broken into splinters. Not wanting to hold back against such a vicious opponent, no matter how old and frail she looked, Harry fell back on an old reliable technique.
"Acusignis! Depulso!" The shower of splinters that had once been the swinging door had now transfigured themselves into a hundred needles and were banished towards her with impressive speed. The elderly witch didn't even flinch as she transfigured them into birds, but before she could use them to attack Harry, she was bowled over with all the force a desperate eleven old boy could summon.
Unlike the other two attackers, Harry was sure he could take an old lady in a physical altercation, so instead of trying to duel her (as she was already the most impressive of the three) he used the shower of needles as a smokescreen for his actual attack. He would have been ashamed if he lost to an old lady in a brief wrestling match, but while she put up an impressive struggle, Harry was able to pin her wand arm to the ground and point his own at her face. "Stupefy!" He managed to get out from around the old lay's choking hand.
When she slumped as she fell unconscious, Harry rolled off her and fought to catch his breath. After a few seconds he waved his wand at the still circling falcons. "Oppugno Maxima!" Without their initial creator there to fight for control, they fell under his command with ease, and he directed them to fly out of the stairwell and attack the first person they saw. He wished he could give them more specific instructions, but he was reaching his limit.
It wasn't long before he realised that sending the birds out of the stairwell was a mistake. When the birds left the stairwell, all that he had done was reveal his location to the fourth attacker, the one who had made use of the inextinguishable purple flames.
As he began to descend the staircase, following the wake of a hundred enchanted and transfigured falcons, Harry heard the ground floor door slam open. Regretting it already, he peeked his head over the railing to catch a glimpse of who had entered the stairwell.
She was a young, East Asian witch, average in height and with shoulder length black hair. Her skin had a golden hue, and her nose a smattering of freckles, all of which Harry noticed as she stared up at him. They both remained frozen for a second, clearly not expecting that their adversary would be so close, but she reacted much quicker than he did.
The witch smiled, as though it were her lucky day, and pointed her wand right up at him. Without moving her lips, a blue spell launched itself from the tip of her wand right towards his still peeking head. Harry ducked backwards and began to flee back up the stairs and towards the now burning service corridor. He knew, with just that one non-verbal spell, that he wouldn't be able to win a fight against this one.
Harry ducked into the first door along the service corridor, which turned out to be the exit of a furniture store. Breathing erratically and fighting against his own exhaustion, he ran for the entrance and back into the shopping centre proper. He wasted only a second in deciding his next escape route, as he didn't have that many options available to him.
In just a few minutes, the purple fire that had begun at the escalator near the food court had now set half of the shopping centre ablaze with inextinguishable flames, which was not helped by the kitchen Harry had turned into burning kindling. With one side of the building being unavailable to him, Harry ran towards the public stairwells. While his tired body would have preferred one of the elevators, he doubted that they would be in operation while the fire alarms were still blaring.
As he ran, Harry pointed his wand at the furniture store over his shoulder. "Accio desk chair!" Harry heard the desk chair break right through the display window as it followed him. Perhaps it was a mark of his improving spell work, or maybe it was a sign of how slow he was running due to his fatigue, but the chair caught up to him in no time. "Locomotor chair!" Harry cast as he slammed into the stairwell door. The chair faithfully followed after him as he began to climb the stairs, heading for the roof.
Harry's thighs felt like they were on fire as he reached the seventh floor and pushed the door to the roof open. His running pace had slowed to a fast walk and he was gasping for breath as he stumbled onto the flat roof. Making his way to the edge of the building, he levitated the chair onto the edge before climbing on himself and sat backwards on the chair.
He took a second to glance down to see if there were any Aurors present, and much to his despair, he noticed a few of them running into the building and ignoring the struggles of the Muggle firefighters. It won't be long before they undue all the damage Harry and his still unidentified attackers had caused and made their way to the roof. He had to leave now.
Hearing the door to the roof open up behind him, Harry turned in shock which quickly turned into self-chastisement. Of course she had followed him up here, with the Tracking Spell likely being in her arsenal, he might as well have left a trail of breadcrumbs for her. Still, Harry wouldn't give her the chance to attack first this time.
While the fourth pursuer was still adjusting to the bright sunlight after the darkness of the stairwell, Harry quickly whispered, "Fumos!" The dense grey smoke from his wand joined the smoke coming from the burning building which obscured Harry from her vision. Hopefully she wouldn't realise where he was going.
Tapping both the chair and himself, Harry cast, "Talpa!" twice, and watched as both he and his seat became mere shimmers in the air. Waving his wand over the chair once more and gripping wrapping his left arm around the back of the chair, Harry murmured, "Locomotor!"
Now knowing what to expect after trying the same trick during the gauntlet, Harry did not yelp as the chair launched itself forward and over the busy London street. Harry thought it was surreal to fly over the capital, seven stories up, without being able to see exactly what he was flying upon. Still, he managed to keep his senses about him as he directed the flying chair to fly over the Thames, wanting to put the river between himself and his last remaining attacker.
That was when things started to go wrong. Well, even more wrong than they already had today.
Maybe it was through the use of another Tracking Spell, or maybe it was because his Disillusion Charm was failing, but the witch was able to locate him and began to fire spells at his back. Harry only became aware of this by the now too familiar purple jet of light whizzing past his head. Glancing back towards the burning building, Harry could see that the witch was unconcerned with her own safety as she fired repeated spells at him.
Her aim was far better than her cohorts, as the third spell came uncomfortably close and the fourth was seconds away from hitting him in the back. Harry knew Shield Charms did little against Elemental magic, which only left one option to him.
Taking a deep breath, he threw himself off the chair and towards the grey river below, and not a moment too soon. The chair exploded into purple flames a second later and was thrown forward, across the river, setting the nearest building on fire.
Harry didn't see any of this, as he was occupied with the quickly approaching surface of the River Thames. Falling from seven stories, Harry knew that hitting the water would likely injure him, if not outright kill him, so he adjusted himself in mid-air so that his legs went in first and pointed his wand desperately at the water. "Confringo!" He bellowed, giving it everything he had.
The Exploding Curse hit the water when Harry was twenty feet up and sent the water in every direction, including upwards. A torrent of water hit Harry, slowing his fall infinitesimally, just before he hit the river's surface. It still hurt though, especially as he went legs first, which wasn't very fun with his still healing left calf.
Harry fell into the river with a torrent of bubbles following after him, and his entire body on fire from various damages. Worst of all, he had lost the grip he had on his wand, and felt it being taken by the river's current. Wishing he had worn his enchanted Quidditch goggles, Harry tried to find it with his eyes, before remembering what had occurred in front of the Mirror of Erised. Focusing on the return of his wand, Harry felt his Ouroboros burn and a second later his wand slapped into his palm.
Glad that at least something had gone right today, Harry kicked his way to the surface, lungs burning, desperate to get out of the freezing and filthy water. Finally, his head broke the surface and he breathed in the city air gratefully before making his way to the shore. It took a while, especially as he had never swum in waters with a current before, but he eventually managed to drag himself onto shore.
Not giving himself a minute to rest, Harry frantically began to hobble his way to the poorly maintained steps that led to the street. At the top of the short stairway there was a gate and Harry, groaning because he knew that his next spell would likely be his last of the day, pointed his wand at it. "Arbeto!"
Harry stumbled onto the street, ignoring the Muggles who were frantic at the second building that was now on fire, he began to search for somewhere that was out of sight so he could put his Invisibility Cloak on a get out of dodge, but he was stopped by the worst sight he could imagine in the moment.
The witch was waiting for him on the pavement, having somehow gotten off the roof and had gotten around the river much faster than he had. Harry wasted a precious second looking for any sign of a broomstick, before his weary brain remembered that Apparition was something that older wizards and witches had available to them.
Out of tricks, ideas, and anywhere to flee, Harry had no idea what to do next, and judging by her widening smile, his pursuer seemed to realise this as well. However, before she could even raise her wand at him, Harry was rescued by a miracle.
Or at least, that was how it first appeared.
A shaggy black dog the size of a bear came running down the street with a howl, leaping right past Harry and onto his adversary. With a scream, the witch fell to the ground as the dog bit and scratched at her, seemingly determined to maul Harry's attacker for reasons unknown. Before the dog could make much headway however, the witch pointed her wand at its flank.
That's when things became even more bizarre.
The huge dog shifted and transformed in the same eerie way that all transfigured items did, but instead of returning to an incongruous item like a table or a vase, it instead turned into a woman. Harry watched, open mouthed, as the attacker's spell flew into the open air over the river as the woman was much smaller than the dog.
The dog-who-was-now-a-woman wrenched the wand from the grip of Harry's attacker and pointed it at her, but before she could get a spell off, the attacker wiggled out of the thin woman's grasp and took off running down the street. Harry assumed, from the way she had attacked an eleven-year-old with three other people, that she didn't want to fight against two people at once, preferring weakened prey.
Almost immediately however, Harry learned exactly why she ran. There were a dozen cracks in the street and Aurors wearing black and silver uniforms appeared out of thin air. Harry ducked behind the nearest car, praying they hadn't seen him, but his saviour appeared to believe they were after her, as she was swift in her attack.
Harry didn't see what she had done exactly, but when he peeked over the car's trunk, he saw that there was a wall of blue flames separating them from the Aurors, with only one thin path that led to the next street. Harry had thought that the woman would have already taken off running, but instead she hurried over to him and asked, "Are you all right?"
Harry stared at her. The stranger was wearing an odd assortment of clothes, a black trench coat, pink smock, and grey cargo shorts, as though she had found these clothes in a donation bin instead of purchasing them. Her hair was cut short, almost to the scalp, and her face was gaunt with waxy skin stretching out over the bones. Despite all of that, Harry was most taken aback by a complete stranger sounding so worried about him.
"Err…yeah. I'm alright."
She nodded, and her expression didn't change, but her dark eyes seemed to relax once she had heard that. "Good. Stay here. The Aurors will keep you safe." With that she stood and ran for the clear exit that she had left for herself, leaving a baffled Harry to watch her flee.
After a long moment, he shook his head and summoned his Invisibility Cloak, feeling safe to do so now that he was certain that no one could see him. He appreciated the woman's timely rescue, but she obviously wasn't aware that Harry was a wanted murderer.
Still, as the Aurors finally managed to extinguish her blue flames only to see neither Harry nor the woman present, he wondered why someone who would flee from the Aurors would deign to help him. He wondered why anyone would help him.
He kept thinking on this even as he walked away from the scene of the crime, as the sky above turned black with smoke from all the damage that he had caused.
Biggest change out of the way, I changed Sirius' gender. I noticed a hilarious lack of maternal figures in my planning stage. I ended up with about ten male role models and paternal figures for Harry to look up to and not a single witch. That changed and Maia Black is the first to show up.
Say what you will about Mrs Weasley but canon Harry would be all the lesser for not having her in his life.
Canon Sirius is probably my favourite character due to how loyal he is to James and Harry, but also because he's kind of an ass to everyone. I can relate to that. Somehow him being my favourite made it easier to take him out of this AU and replace him with a different character because I don't want to do a poor job in writing him. Now I can just experiment with Maia in his place.
Hotel Babylon was a show that I never watched, but I remembered the name and thought it sounded cool, so I used it here.
I'm not entirely sure if putting metal in microwaves causes it to explode, but I've seen it in movies (Iron Man 3 and I think an old Batman movie) but I pictured Harry doing it in the shopping centre scene, so I wrote it anyway.
Please review.