Harry's Task
By Rachemiester with a little help from Miyoung
Disclaimer- J.K. Rowling's. Not ours. Good, now let's get on to why you clicked on the link.
Chapter 1- The Change
The leaves shuttered as a cold wind blew. Dark shadows hid unmentionable creatures. One howled, adding more to the cold then the wind.
Harry shivered, and pulled his cloak tighter. He knew, technically, that he shouldn't be here, in the forbidden forest, but now was not the time for technicalities.
At the end of last year, almost everyone dear to him had been set on a dangerous task- Hagrid to the giants, Sirius to find the "old gang" and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley- well, he wasn't sure, but it was almost certainty dangerous.
He had met the "old gang the week before- Lupin, Sirius Arebella Figg and Mungdugus Flechter. He had learned his parents had been part of it too. He wasn't allowed to know what they did- it was of up most secrecy, and only Dumbledore and the minister knew.
It was surprising to find out elderly Mrs. Figg from down the street was a witch, but- he smiled- it wasn't too surprising.
He quicken his pace through the forest- the first rays of the sun were peeking up from the horizon. I wonder how long it will take them to notice I'm gone, he thought. He could picture it in his head.
Ron would wake up and get dressed. He'd go down to the common room to wait
for Hermione. When she comes down, she'll ask where I was. Ron would say I was probably still sleeping, and go back upstairs to wake me up. He's draw back my curtains, and yell that I wasn't there. Within 15 minuets the entire castle would be searching. He grimaced. All that for the famous Harry Potter.
Draco's words from third year came back to him: If it was me, I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in the castle like a good boy. I'd be out there looking for him. Ron and Hermione had yelled at him then for considering taking Draco's advice. And here he was, two years later- taking it. All because of the dream.
Of course, Draco had been talking about Sirius Black. But Harry was looking for the real criminal.
The sun was rising higher. Harry checked the watch he'd gotten in Diagon Alley. 6:15. Ron would be getting up any minuet. He broke into a run.
* * *
An hour later, he was at the edge of the forest, looking at the village that lay ahead. Harry took of his pack, and got out some muggle clothes. It seemed symbolic some how, to take of his black robes, and put on the green sweater and jeans.
Making absolutely sure now was around, he took out the compact he'd "borrowed" from Ginny, and carefully covered up his scar. He then took out the brown contacts he'd gotten over the summer, put them on and stuffed his glasses into the bag.
Next, he found a small vial of the face-changing potion he'd brewed. He then held his nose-it looked almost exactly the same as a polyjuice potion- and quickly swallowed some of the potion.
He grimaced- though it was hard because the various things on his face were rearranging them selves, giving him a drastically different face.
Now for the final step. He took out the aging potion Fred and George had given over the summer as a thank you for the money he'd given him.
He carefully measured out sixty drops- he needed to look at least twenty- and quickly gulped them down.
His face burned as new hair appeared, and his skin, bones, and muscles painfully grew 5 years growth in less then 5 seconds.
He looked in the small mirror of the compact. His cheek bones were higher, his face longer, and his nose shorter. His eyes, even though they were brown, looked much the same. Freckles dotted his face, making his newly dyed auburn hair- he'd dyed it before setting out.
He rubbed his cheek, smiling slightly at the sand papery feeling it now had, and felt the rest of "his" face over.
He checked his watch again. 7:30 AM Tuesday. He'd need to do this again on Thursday at 7:30 PM.
He looked at the village that lay ahead, took a couple of deep breathes, and set off almost as if under orders.
* * *
Once in the village, he walked straight to the bread and breakfast he'd found some time before, and looked it over.
It looked fairly respectable. The sky blue paint was chipping of in some places, and some shingles were falling of in some places, but the grass was neatly trimmed, and nothing was in major disrepair.
He cautiously opened the door. A large, dark lobby came into view, with a little old man snoring at a desk at the far side of the room. Harry walked over and cleared his throat.
The man jolted awake, and quickly sat up straight. "Can I help you?" he said, looking as he was trying to deny the fact that he'd been asleep.
Harry nodded. "Yes" He stopped- his voice was a bit deeper. "I'd like a room please?"
"Of course," the man said, and took out a large ledger book and pen. "Name?"
"Henry Cleese," Harry said smoothly. It was a lie that he'd practiced over and over, until he'd felt more like Henry Cleese than Harry Potter.
"Address?"
"Four Privet Drive, Little Winging, Surrey."
"And how many nights?"
"Just one."
"That'll be 50 pounds, 19 shillings."
Harry nodded, and took out part of the muggle money he'd gotten exchanged at Gringotts.
The man smiled s he put the money in an old looking cash register. "Why are you here? Holiday?"
"Research for my semester project."
"Oh? What's it on?"
"Healing plants of the forests of the Northern United Kingdom." He'd deliberately made the topic sound long and boring to discourage questions from curious muggles.
"What school?"
"London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine."
The man nodded slowly, and motioned for Harry to lean in closer. "I wouldn't be doing' my research in that frosts," he said, jutting his thumb to the forbidden forest.
Harry did his best to look surprised. "Why not?"
"It's haunted, some say. Strange howlings come out, and some folks swear they've seen werewolves."
Harry dismissed those thoughts with a wave of his hand. "Fiction. Pure fiction. Can I have my room now?"
"Right. Here you are Mr. Cleese," handing Harry a key. "You go down that hallway, and it's the third down on the left."
"Thank you"
Once in his room, Harry collapsed on to the bed and stared at the ceiling. How can I be doing this? He mused. Make the entire magical community into an uproar, all because- he stopped. He couldn't even bear to think of it. He sighed, sat up and dumped the contents of his sack onto the bed to take stock of what he had.
Cloak, invisibility cloak, robes, glasses, change of muggle clothes, muggle money- 500 pounds- magical hair dye, sneakascope, wand, age and face potions, some freezed dried food, broomstick, cauldron, and potion ingredients. It was a good thing the pack was magical- bigger on the inside than on the outside, and bewitched to be feather light.
He jammed this all back into the sack, and turned on the telly.
A woman reporter appeared, sitting at a news desk. "This is BBC news. 15 year old Harry Potter-" a small picture of himself popped up behind the lady- "has disappeared form his boarding school in northern Scotland. Anyone who spots him should call the number at the bottom of the screen."
Harry turned it off, silencing the woman, but not his thoughts.
* * *
Ron awoke to the wondrous sound of his alarm clock. "WAKE UP LAZY BONES!!!!" it screamed in his mother's voice.
Ron groaned, rolled over and turned it off. As he got dressed, he glanced over at Harry's bed. Strange, he thought. Harry usually sleeps with at least 1 drape open. And he's usually up before me too.
He headed down to the common room to wait for Hermione. Around 7:00, she came down, looking as sleepily as Ron felt.
"Where's Harry?" she asked.
"Sleeping in, I suppose."
Hermione looked at her watch. "It's 7:00!" she yelled. "He needs to get up, we have detention with Snape in 15 minutes!"
"Okay, Okay, I'll get him up," said Ron, struggled to get out of his cushy armchair, and went to the dormitory.
Seamus, Neville, and Dean were up and getting dressed.
"Is Harry up yet?"
Seamus shook his head. "We thought he was with you."
Ron went over to the bed, and drew back the curtains. "Wake up sle- He's not there!" he yelled in disbelief.
"Does he have Quidditch practice?"
"No, we have a detention."
Cold sweat ran down Ron's face as he ran down the stairs. "He's not there!" he said, his voice shaking a bit.
Hermione got up, and ran with him back up the stairs.
Seamus, Dean, and Neville yelled and ducked out of sight as Hermione entered. She ignored them, and rushed over to the bed.
She and Ron pulled apart the sheets, searching for a note, searching for anything that would say where Harry was.
She grabbed Ron's wrist. "We have to tell somebody! Come on!"
The two ran out of the common room and collided with Snape. His cold eyes looked down at them.
"I believe you two and Potter had a detention with me, that started 10 minuets ago," he snarled.
Hermione and Ron quickly launched into speech.
"Harry's gone!"
"His bed's empty!"
"No note or anything!"
"Nobody's seen him!"
Snape looked at there panicked faces and knew they weren't lying. A queasy feeling filled his stomach as the three ran towards Dumbledore's office.
Panting, they arrived at the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
"Acid pop!" yelled Snape, and they rushed up the stairs.
Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, quietly humming and doing paper work. "Hello?" he sang absentmindedly, and looked up. "Merlin's beard! What's wrong?"
Hermione and Ron quickly told him what had happened. Dumbledore jumped up, and grabbed three owls, some parchment, and a quill. He hurriedly wrote out three notes, and sent the owls out.
"There! One to the ministry, one to out contacts at the BBC- yes Severus, I do find it necessary- and one to Sirius. Severus, come with me, we need to alert the castle." Dumbledore looked at Ron and Hermione sharply. "You two go to your common room and stay there!"
* * *
Within a quarter of an hour, the teachers had alerted their houses, confined them to their common rooms, and had started to search the castle and the grounds, while Hagrid, Fang, and Professor McGonagall had began searching the forest.
In the Griffindor common room, Hermione and Ron sat silenced by the fire. Ron was pale, and he rocked back and forth praying silently. Hermione's face was buried in her hands, as she sat sobbing quietly. Much of the castle was like them. With the teachers in a panic, the boy-who-lived missing, and He-who-must-not-be-named on the rise, what else could they do?