Walking was not the word for it. Harry was traveling by foot, through this forest without a care in the world. He was strolling. Walking so slowly that even the animals didn't notice him. He stopped at every tree, every flower, every stream, and absorbed the living pulse of the world. The real world.
He picked up a peach colored flower. It reminded him of Ginny's cheeks when he visited. A simple memory made him smile. He found a violet blossom hanging from a vine, and inhaled it's scent. Why couldn't the entire world be…forested, with flowers. No more buildings, or people, just…life. Why was there so little life in people. Had they deviated so far from their origins that they were no longer part of the natural world? He once again looked at his wrist. The caked blood was preaching that he had the same life-force of any other creature. He wanted to wash it away, but was worried about dislodging the scab, and he had nothing to cover it with…did he? He looked around, and could feel the realizations descending into his mind. Here, in the middle of no where, he had infinite potential. Absolute control over himself. No restrictions by law or otherwise. No morals or values to uphold. Here, here he was free.
He glance down at a wide, stony brook and stopped at it. It's flowing water so graceful, and the gurgling sound so beautiful. More pure than anything he'd ever known. He cupped his hand, and brought some of the water to his mouth, before spitting it out. The flavor of blood still fresh on his hands. He sighed and looked back at the stream, fighting as civilization fought it's way back into his head.
Images of the Auror's Handbook found it's way into his mind. It was a checklist of things to do when abandoned and magic-less in the wilderness. 8. Make sure you are well hydrated. Almost all natural streams and rivers are safe to drink from, but never drink still water, unless under the direst of situations…There. He got rid of it, and stared blankly at the stream. It was two feet deep, and brownish silver fish swam lazily around. The water was moving, so it was fine. He felt a wet warmth on his hand, and saw the blood slowly creep from his wrist. If it was going to bleed anyway, he might as well clean it out. He dipped his hand into the cool stream, and rubbed the area with his other hand. Enjoying the sensation of all of the dry, gritty, and dirty blood off of his body. Improvising, he grabbed a large leave from a nearby plant. It seemed too big to be a bush, but not quite tall enough to be a tree. He like the leathery feel of the leaf and it's dark color. He wrapped it around his wrist, and tore a couple of feet of thin vine from a tall tree to his left, and wrapped it around the leaf, securing it on his arm. He felt oddly happy about his makeshift band-aid, and watched the fish continue to swim around, not bothered by swimming against the current. Harry wished he was like the fish, they always swim against the current, but they were adapted to do so. As more things came at Harry, he was unable to simply swim around them, and the dragged him back, slowly suffocating him…
But now was not the time to be analyzing his problems, he only needed to get out of the woods, and get home. And he was hungry. Watching the fish only made it worst. He felt his stomach growl irritably, angry for being ignored for so long. What was he to eat. He didn't recognize anything edible, except for the fish, and how was he supposed to get one of them? Spear? He didn't have the skill. He had no rod, nor a net. He close his eyes, and waited quietly. 'Listen to nature, it will provide an answer.' He examined the stream and saw a small puddle, really, off to the side of the stream, on the near shore. In it were a couple fish, lazily eating algae. Harry got an idea, and started scrambling around the forest picking up rocks of various sizes. Taking great care not to disturb the fish, he very slowly placed the rocks across the entrance to the cove. With the last rock, he sat on the ground and looked into his man made pond. In it were three fish that could not leave due largely to his ingenious idea. Now he had all the time in the world to figure out how to get them out of the water, but he didn't want to think about it, and took off his shoes and socks before walking right into his pond, enjoying the feeling of the round pebbles and sand in his toes. He tried desperately to grab the fish but they were too fast and very slippery. He realized the futility and gave up, resorting to trying to find another means. An idea entered his mind and he set to work immediately. It was slow work, but effective in catching a fish. He made the wall he put up between the pond and stream thicker, and then proceeded to take rocks from the streamside of the wall and place them on the pond side of the wall, making the pond smaller and smaller. Soon later, his four foot wide pond was only two feet wide, and then very small, so small he could drop in a large rock and be guaranteed to squash one of the three fish. But he wasn't going to be so violent. He stuck his hand in and began grabbing. With no place to swim off to, he was able to secure a grip on the largest of the three creatures, and pulled it out as it bucked and fluttered. He walked a few feet from the waters edge and lay down a few clean leaves before placing the fish down on top. He caught a fish, and was going to eat it.
He wondered along the shore for ten minutes before finding what he was looking for. Some slate. He grabbed a large chip of it, and rinsed it in the brook, before returning to his now dead fish. He supposed he was going to get messy, and the fish may be bloody, but blood never bothered him. He jabbed the stone into the fish, and watched the guts shoot out onto his shirt…he could clean it later. He sat for ten minutes, and cleaned the scales off of the fish, before cutting out four small fillets. He smiled, then frowned. He could never eat raw fish, he had to cook it. To cook he needed fire, and he had no way to created fire. He had magic, but he didn't bring a wand. Wandless Magic. His mind chanted. He grabbed a few good sized logs and put them in the best formation he could think of, crisscrossing each other like a log cabin. Then he put his hand inches from the wood, focused as best he could, and said 'Incendio.' A spot on the nearest log turned black and smoked, He touched it, and it was warm, but no flame. He needed something smaller. He needed…leaves. He grabbed a bunch of dead brown leaves, and small twigs. He threw them into the center of his fireplace and rolled up his sleeve. He stuck his hand into the logs, and above the leaves and small twigs and said 'Incendio' once again. Two of the leaves curled up and turned black. Soon, a number of leaves turned black and curled. They began to crackle, and a small flame appeared. It was soon after that the twigs ignited, and then the logs took flame. He got more sticks, and made a pile next to a tree nearby. He retrieved his fish, and looked longingly at the flame. He had no way to put it into, or take it out of the fire. He picked up his slate knife and smiled. He's use the same thing. Harry sprinted to where he found his slate blade, and found a larger piece of the dark gray stone. He washed it in the stream, and placed it atop his fire. The water on the bottom crackled and boiled away. He watched as the damp top of the stone evaporated quickly too. He tossed on a few more sticks, to the fire, and placed one of the fillets on it. He heard it sizzle, and smiled. He may get something to eat after all. He tossed on the other fillets and let them cook awhile.
When he could smell the fish cooking, he used two sticks to roll the pieces of flesh over. This side cooked much faster as the stone became hot. Carefully avoiding the flames, Harry removed the fish from his stone, and set them back down on the leaves. They smelled…like fish, but in this case this was a reassuring thought. Harry nibbled on a piece, and ate it thoughtfully. It was good. He liked the fish he made at 4 Privet Drive better, but this was food, nourishment, and it was what he needed, making it better than anything he could make anywhere else at any time. He greedily ate the other three fillets, and let his fire burn out. The two live fish were still in the very small puddle, and he saw the flaw in his plan. Kill only what one needs for food. He struggled with each fish as he grabbed them, picked them up and tossed them back into the mainstream, grateful for the purpose they served. Grateful for nature.
He knew it was a little self conscious, but if he appeared from the forest bloody, dirty, and smelling like fish, there may be trouble. Harry smelled his shirt and his suspicions were confirmed. He reeked, horribly. He took of all his clothes minus his boxers, and walked into the center of the stream. The force of the water was strong, considering it was raining the night before, but he held his clothes tightly as he sat in the water, which came up to his shoulders. He shivered, as the water was cold and piercing. He forced himself not to shiver, but felt his chest muscles begin to spasm. It kind of tickled. He took one article of clothing at a time, and rubbed them roughly with his hands underwater, before returning them under his legs to stop them from floating away. Walking out of the woods in his boxers would be rather humiliating. Gathering his garments, Harry trudged out of the water, and hung them on tree limbs to dry, and began to analyze the problem of getting out of the forest.
He honestly had no conception of where he was. He didn't bother looking to see where he was going, but began to wonder about how he would get here. He probably ran in a direction chosen subconsciously, so where, deep down inside, would he go if he was scared? Home. He didn't know where his old home was so that was out of the question. Two months ago he would have said Hogwarts, but he knew he didn't want to go there any longer, so he doubted it was there. It had to be the Weasley's, or the Grangers. But which would it be? He thought to check for footprints, but abandoned the thought quickly realizing the rain would have concealed any. He had moved a distance from his slumbering tree anyways, and did not feel like back tracking.
Thinking realistically, he couldn't be that far from civilization. He wasn't in the woods of Scotland, in the middle of nowhere. If he went in one direction long enough, he would surely come across a highway or road of some sorts soon enough. With that thought he threw on his damp but not saturated shirt and shorts, and picked up his socks and shoes. He trekked across the cool stream, and took one last slurp from it once he reached the far shore. He, for one last time, marveled at its flowing beauty; its true life, and he turned away and put on his shoes, shoving his soggy socks into his pocket. He didn't want blisters on his feet.
He moved quickly through the woods, no longer marveling at the greenery or the flowers. He was worried if he became too attached to this restriction-less life, that he'd never return to where he was "needed."
"Harry." Harry stopped his walking at the familiar voice in his head. He hadn't gone too far, he supposed, in the last fifteen minutes of walking, but the time wasted in taking a short brake could be sacrificed.
"Yes Headmaster?" Harry said, knowing his words would find their way through.
"You did not contact me last night about your visions, and I supposed you chose to wait until morning." A sudden thought struck Harry. He didn't see Voldemort wake up, he didn't see people die, he didn't see young girls hopelessly ra…tortured. The thought was very enlightening, like tons of lead was extracted from his blood, leaving him revitalized and happy. For the first time in a long time he had a moment of happiness, which only increased the happiness of his train of thought.
"Actually, sir, I didn't have one."
"Pardon me?"
"I didn't have a vision last night, and I don't know why. Maybe he died? No that would be too easy…he could have not woken up, maybe that was it, or maybe I subconsciously subdued it, or maybe the forest protected me…" he trailed of rambling like Hermione did when something curious happened. He felt a power, a force in the forest, but he never thought to attribute it to magic. Maybe it was something older and more powerful than magic, but once again, he felt increasing gratitude, even if it wasn't due.
"Are you positive?"
"Of course I'm positive, I always call you after my visions, and I don't forget them easily. Wow, this is incredible. Thank god! Finally! Do you know how long I wished for this to happen!?!?"
"I understand your contentment, but I must ask you one last time, did you have a vision since we last spoke?"
"No, I did not." Harry said, slowly descending from the clouds.
"I do not know why, but this worries me greatly. I will speak with you soon, unless you have another vision. I ask that you contact me immediately."
"Yes, sir." Harry felt the connection die, and the smile returned to his face. He couldn't help but hope he was free from the terrible pictures forever. Maybe he just wished them away? He was trying to look at every possible explanation, each more radical than the previous, but he was enjoying it. Today was a sunny warm day, and he was rested, ready to take on anything.
He marched for another thirty minutes before he heard the distinct sound of car motors. He stumbled forward, and came across a busy highway with a lot of traffic. It was still early in the day and he supposed it was rush hour. He looked at the sun and followed the road eastward until he saw a quiet town nearby. He began to jog, and stopped a man in an expensive luxury car as he pulled onto the entrance ramp to the road. The man cautiously lowered his window a few inches and eyed Harry warily.
"Sorry to bother you sir, but I lost my way and I need to get home, can you please tell me how far it is to Surrey, and in which direction?" The man eyed Harry closely again. He had very dark brown hair and hazel eyes.
"Go farther east on this road. It'll bend south and should take you close to Surrey, maybe twenty, twenty five kilometers." Harry smiled warmly at the man, and turned to walk away after saying 'thank you.' "Hey, kid. Why didn't you ask for a ride?" Harry pondered this, as he turned around to face the guy, who now had two cars stuck behind him.
"I didn't want to trouble you. You already told me where to go, and that is all I needed."
"Get in." He said resignedly, as if he knew he was going to regret it, but the kid was so polite and asked for so little, he couldn't refuse to help him.
Harry hesitated, before saying many more 'thank yous' and sliding into the passenger side of the car. He liked the leather seat. It was very comfortable, and smelled new. Harry notice when they accelerated, the car went all the way up to 5000 rpm before shifting, a tell-tale sign of a transmission problem. He watched the tachometer closely, trying to find the problem.
"Where you coming from, that you lost your way?" The man asked.
"Iya, got lost in the woods back there, and need to get home." Harry responded casually, like it was everyday people got lost in the woods.
"What were you doing in the woods in the first place?" A very good question, which Harry wasn't keen on answering.
"Actually, I'm not so sure myself." The man looked questioningly at Harry but returned his eyes to the road.
"What about your parents, won't they come looking for you?"
"They're dead." There was only the quiet hum of the engine.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know."
"'t's ok, I never really knew them, I was one at the time. Got hit by a drunk driver."
"I'm sorry." The man said sincerely this time. "I was in a drunk driving accident once, but I was the drunk driver. Hit a school bus. Empty, thank god. No one was hurt, but I couldn't help thinking that if there were kids on the bus, I may be responsible for someone's life." Harry didn't respond. "I never drank a drop again. Not even at my wedding." Harry really didn't have anything to say to that.
"So, you're married then?"
"Yes, for eight years. I have a wonderful boy of five, and a two year old girl. I don't usually pick…people up, but your eyes look so much like my kids, that I was inclined to do it."
"Thank you for that. You made my life much easier."
"My pleasure…………say, if you're parents are, you know, who do you live with?"
"My Aunt and Uncle, and cousin. They all despise me because my aunt hated my mother. They are really terrible people, but my uncle's getting better."
"It can't be too bad."
"Try spending ten years of your life living in a cupboard. It was pretty bad." The man glanced once more at Harry, to see if he was lying. From what he could tell, the kid wasn't, and all of a sudden, wanted to change the subject.
"So, do you follow football?" the man said. Harry bit his lip.
"No, I haven't seen a game on the tele since I was eleven." There was more silence as the trees and buildings flashed by, and Harry watched them, his heart begging to go back, to be where he belonged, where he wasn't the boy who lived, where he wasn't famous or rich admired or hated, to go back where he was…where he was who he was, nothing more, and nothing less. No expectations, no corruption, no power. No wonder the human race was destroying the world, we had drifted too far from it. Harry felt a bump in the ride and it awakened him from his thoughts. The car was slowing down, and pulling off the highway. He had a general idea where he was, not too far from the Dursley's place, a sort of reassuring thought. The car came to a stop in from of Gregory's Hardware. Harry looked at the man, who sent him an unsure smile.
"Thank you sir, more than I can put into words, thank you."
"You're welcome kid, take care of yourself."
"I'll try my best. Oh! You may want to check where your transmission fluid is at, I think you make be running low." Harry shut the door and the car pulled away. 'Take care of yourself.' The words were oddly powerful, even when said in a casual way. 'Take care of yourself.' He frowned. If only he could take care of himself, he would, but he was not given that benefit, unless there was a miracle, or Voldemort died, Harry would never be able to take care of himself.
So Harry continued his journey. He jogged a dozen or so blocks before turning right and going four more. Finally, he turned onto Privet drive, and up to the front door. He noticed the Cadillac was gone from the garage, so Vernon wasn't home. Maybe he was at work, Harry really didn't know what day it was. He tried to enter the front door, but found it locked. He tapped the door lightly, not really wanting to aggravate anyone who was home. He saw the blinds in his Aunt and Uncle's room move, but no one came to the door. Just his luck. He walked around the house to the backyard and tried the patio door. It too was locked. If he only brought his wand life would be so much easier. He could just picture Aunt Petunia smugly laughing at him from inside. It boiled his blood to know that she was just so cruel.
There was a loud rumbling behind him, and fearing the worst he twirled around to face any adversaries. There was a line of very dark clouds making there way quickly towards Surrey. Summer storms could brew quickly, and strike even more quickly. He leaned against the back door and stared at the rapidly moving clouds. He wondered what would happen if he flew his broom that high, all the way into the clouds when it was raining. Did it rain inside clouds? He would have to read a few books. Hermione would help him get some. He kept watching the clouds as they stampeded across the sky. Lighting was flashing within them, and the sound was loud and intimidating. He wondered if a storm that violent could be conjured by magic, and why lighting was so loud even when it didn't hit the ground. What was making the noise? On second thought, he didn't want to know if Voldemort could make a storm, it was too scary to think about. He could hear sirens in the distance as more lighting streaked across the sky, and he could begin to hear the rain a distance away.
If only he could use magic to open the bloody door. He was able to start a fire without a wand, and 'Incendio' isn't all that easy with a wand. 'Alohamora,' however, required full magic to do it. There were no stages of the unlocking charm. With the fire spell, you could get heat, then a spark, and if you practiced enough you could get a flame, but the unlocking charm? It was all or nothing.
"At least you should try" his mind told him. Right, all he had to do was focus. People could do wandless magic rather consistently. He'd done wandless magic before so he could do it, all he had to do was focus. Focus.
"ALOHAMORA" He yelled as the rain began to sprinkle onto his head. Lightning flashed out of the sky and struck a few blocks away. He did not want to be out in this storm.
CRACK. The lightning struck a little closer, and he saw all the lights go out in the neighbors house, as well as the Dursley's. So power was out. Harry put his hand on the doorknob and once again shouted the incantation as lightning struck a satellite dish on the roof of the house next to Mrs. Figg's.
"Focus dammit!" he shouted to himself as the downpour began. There was something wrong with the rain though. It wasn't that it appeared or smelled off, but he sensed an artificiality to it. A hidden power. It made him uneasy, and he suddenly got the strong desire to sleep. 'Fight it' his mind said, he closed his eyes and put his hands on his now wet temples. He focused as much as he could, willing the door to open. He was about to say the word when he heard a soft click and opened his eyes to see an open door, leading into a dark house. On a whim brought about by an odd sensation, Harry looked up just in time to see it. The lightning came crashing down at him, and he felt it strike him. But he was still standing, and the lightning engulfed him, as though it couldn't touch him. For ten second he would estimate it was on him, until it very slowly, for lightning, receded back to the clouds. A sudden pain in his forehead explained everything. Dumbledore was right to worry when Harry didn't have a vision. Voldemort had been busy. But, once again, Harry was untouchable. He felt the warm blood trickle from his scabbed forehead and walked into the house, shutting the door before rinsing his scar in the bathroom. This event gave him a lot to think about. He was being protected by something; the lightning, the arrow, something was going on. He had to find out, but now he had information to go on. All he needed was the right resource. He would just have to go to work tomorrow.
I am so incredibly sorry this is out so late. I had a really good and valid excuse like, three weeks ago, but then I just lost my motivation. I am getting it back and hope to update regularly again. This is a short chapter, but I was kinda stuck. I am really really sorry everyone.
