"When are you coming back?" Hermione asked. She was still reeling from waking so early in the morning after the Holloween Ball. She was exhausted, but that wouldn't stop her from seeing Harry off.
"When one of three things happen" he responded while he tossed a canvas tarp into a framed backpack. She shivered in the cold breeze. It smelled like winter. She couldn't think of more than one, so she advertised her typical confused face. Harry noticed and continued, "One, I find some wood. Two, I get injured and need treatment, or three, I run out of supplies." She sighed and watched as the steam blew a could in front of her face.
"Why do you need wood, again?" She asked. She thought she was the only person good at being vague and difficult. This was a rude awakening.
"For a project" he said.
"And what is the end product of this product going to be?" she asked. She anticipated his rebuke, "provided you find this wood you're seeking." She saw his eye's flash. She'd caught him off guard. That made the score one to…a lot. Harry had a lot.
"A stick" he said grinning. She could tell he was proud to have found such an easy way out. He, with some difficulty raised the metal frame of the back pack onto his back. He then put on a belt with dozens of small vials in little pockets. She guessed from the odd colors of the caps that they were potions.
"Just don't get yourself killed. I can handle a missing arm or legs, but just don't be too stupid. I know it may be below you to use your brain, but, you know, for me." She said. She was trying to strike a nerve in him, to get any kind of emotional response from him. He let out a sigh like a heavy weight had been lifted from him.
"Really?" He asked. She nodded despite the lack of clarity on the subject. She watched as one of his arms disappeared. "Good, because hiding this was beginning to hurt. I'm glad I can finally show myself to you." He watched her face twist in horror, and she stepped back. His arm reappeared and he shook his head in disgust. "I thought so."
She cursed herself inwardly as he shifted the weight of the pack. He leaned in and pecked her on the cheek. She was frozen where she was.
"I'll be fine, and I am fine. I'll see you soon enough. Try to relax a little. And, next time you come outside in the cold, try to wear something a tad thicker, if you understand me" he said with and obvious glance towards her chest. She looked down and noticed that she had twin peaks protruding through her thin night shirt and robe. She gasped in horror of showing them off and covered herself by crossing her arms. She looked up to see Harry marching towards a statue in the Gardens. He said something to it, and it stepped aside revealing a door. Above the door in small letters it was written 'Infinite Forest' She took note of the name. She couldn't figure out why he would need wood. It wasn't necessary for many things. And couldn't he get it anywhere?
She sighed and went back up to her dormitory. She took out a thick album of newspaper clippings. She scanned some of the more recent headlines. "Two Found Dead In Ministry Closet With Four Bound and Gagged, Minister Blames Boy-Who-Lived." "Potter Seen In Hogsmeade Minutes Before Attack, Suspicion Grows." "Minister of Magic Wants Potter Brought in for Questioning, Assembly Agrees." "Search For Potter Continues, Dark Suspicions Slowly Becoming a Reality, However Witness to Attack in Diagon Alley Claims Potter a Hero." Hermione went over them again and again. What was Harry getting himself into. Wanted dead by Vol- You- Know-Who, and now being pursued by the ministry of magic. He was being foolish. He should just turn himself in and tell them the truth, that he didn't do it. But what if he did? A voice I her head whispered. She shivered. Harry could never do that. He could never kill anyone. He wasn't evil. He wasn't. She pushed her thoughts onto something else as an owl flew in the window carrying the day's Daily Prophet. Hermione took five knuts from her nightstand and placed it in the owl's pouch. The owl dropped the paper and left.
Hermione opened it up and dropped it in shock.
"Warrant for Potter's Arrest Approved! Ministry Cites Strong Evidence in Six Killings, and Suspicion in Five Other Murders. Dark Magic Suspected. Wand to be Confiscated. By Sheyite Hoppins. Today, in a stunning convening of the Magical Assembly, Minister Fudge convince the Assemblymen that Potter was a threat to our society, and action should be taken. Due to Potter's self-expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and his blatant use of magic illegally, it was not difficult to achieve this ruling. The charges also include Potter as the top suspect in eleven strange murders in the last month. As suspicions still lingers from the mysterious death of Cedric Diggory at the close of the Triward Tournament held at Hogwarts last year, Fudge felt that this measure of action should have been taken immediately.
When Potter is found and questioned, the consequences are limited. If, miraculously he is found to be innocent of all the murders, he will most likely be let free, but monitored closely by aurors. If he is found guilty, he will immediately stand trial in front of a jury of the most respected wizards and witches of the day. However, due to his illegal magical activity outside of school, his wand will be confiscated by the ministry.
The Daily Prophet was old by an anonymous person that Potter was seen recently with Ludwig Schmidt, who is known for his skill in teaching wandless magic. If Potter's wand was taken away, would it really keep us safe. Many are now feeling that Potter is beginning to follow the dark path. All we can do is hope he is caught soon, before his conversion is beyond repair.
Hermione gaped at the newspaper, and put it down. They were going after Harry. He was in deep trouble. She knew only one person she could go to. She dressed quickly and started running, journeying desperately to the only Gargoyle she could think of.
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Harry sat staring at his campfire. How long had he been out here? A week? A Month? A year? He should have known that finding compatible wood was going to be hard. He had spent days just feeling the forest. Trying to find that sense of power which he should feel somewhere in here. He was getting cold, but he didn't put anymore clothes on. No, the cold felt good. Knowing it was only his body heat keeping him alive made him feel alive. It was a slow and beautiful rush. Knowing that it was only himself keeping warm. He started at the fire and let his mind wander. He was feeling the forest with his mind, trying to sense it's strong subtleties. Trying to find it's hidden power. The only power made for him. Why did it have to be so hard. As he had his mind fly through the forest, he watched as the trees changed. Here, the trees were always in spring, even if the weather wasn't. The green trees gave way to darkness, and Harry felt it. It was so sudden that he almost lost his concentration. He let his mind see where it was. He saw the smooth grey bark, sparkling silver from water in the almost pitch black shade. It was like he had entered a new realm. He had his mind look around and grabbed a leave. He went back to where it was a little lighter and examined it. It was red. A deep and dark maroon red. It was purplish red. He looked at the tree as his eyes began to adjust. It was a large tree, with red leaves. Not too many of those. His mind disappeared from the area and returned to his body.
He opened his eyes to look at the fire once again. He almost knew where to go, but he knew where he was going. He levitated a can out of the fire and put it on the ground in front of him. He opened it and watched with satisfaction as steam poured out. He grabbed a spoon and dipped it in the can, extracting brown baked beans. He touched it with the tip of his tongue and recoiled. It was too hot. He held his spoon for a short while longer before biting down on it. It was good. He always liked baked beans. Probably because for the first ten years of his life it was the sweetest thing he had ever eaten. He dipped the spoon in again and held it up in the cool air to chill. He then took another bite and stood up. He couldn't hold down his excitement much longer. He knew what trees he had to go and see. Finally. Then all he had to do was carve it. And he was convinced that carving would be the easy part.
He sat back down and finished off his beans. Sitting and searching was not very active, and as the sun almost came to noon, he decided he would start his journey down the only path this forest had, he packed the rest of his food, and threw in his tent. He lifted it more easily than he had before, and started off after using his wand to quench the flames. So he had to get to a huge tree with silver bark and red leaves. Not so hard. He clipped on the belt of his pack. He realized a few days ago that it made traveling easier. He started walking down the shady path. He was afraid he was going to forget what the sun looked like. He also wondered if he found them in the closet at the ministry. They really wanted him caught, the six of them. They all seemed in bad spirits when he locked them in. Three of them looked like they were going to murder each other. He was glad he had little to do with what was going to happen in that closet. Six angry men in a tight space. Not a good idea.
Harry enjoyed the trees as he marched. He would touch one every once in a while to try to sense how far he was from the tree he had seen. It seemed to be approaching very slowly. He didn't need to sleep. He just kept eating his beans, and apples, and pancakes, and marshmellows. He'd stop, start a fire, make a meal, and eat as he marched. At night when it got seriously cold he would sometimes put on a cloak or another shirt, depending on his mood. He noticed as he got further into the forest, the number of animals increased. Squirrels, deer, foxes, even an elk. He also learned that chipmunks were not as kind and cuddly as they seemed. He had heard a sound one night as he took a break at a tiny field. He was happy to see the stars for once. He lay down his pack against a tree and stood in the center of the tiny clearing, just looking up. He stood that way for a few minutes, until he heard someone going through his pack. He lit his wand and approached slowly. There was something in his pack. He kicked it softly and heard a number of squeaks. A small army of chipmunks were in his pack, and they left, pulling bread, fruit and marshmellows behind them. He dumped out his pack to find any food they could get into, gone. They were like bears. Mini-bears. He entertained the thought in his head. He should still have enough to make the journey.
He lifted his pack, and cursed at the mini-bears before walking off on the path, continuing on his trek. It was five days since he saw the tree that he finally came across a grove of them. He lay down his pack and wiped the sweat from his brow. It didn't matter that it was fifty degrees, he was hot. He put his hand up against the nearest of the trees. He learned every inch of the tree. It had the power, but it wasn't a perfect match. He went to the next, and then the next. He came to the largest one. He had been through nine of the trees, and only had four more. As he touched the tree, he felt a surge of magic, and the tree began to move. Her couldn't see it, but he could feel it. The tree was measuring him, as he was measuring it. He knew this was the tree, it had to be. He looked at it's branches. He needed to find on that didn't hurt the tree to remove. He searched it with his mind and his eyes. His mind found it first. Near the top of the thirty meter tall sphere was a broken limb. It was long enough and thick enough, but it had been snapped by something. It would be well to remove it.
Without his broom, Harry had no way to get up but climb, so climb he did. It was easy to climb. Eight feet above the ground the trunk split into two trunks, from which all the branches exited. He found that being smaller gave him an advantage. It was easier to move around and lift his small body mass. It only took him ten minutes to get to the top, and he could see where it was broken. It wasn't a real break, more like a small cut, but it was enough to kill the limb. He slid out to where the damage was, and began to try to break it off. He bent it back and forth many times. Under the bark it was still green and fresh. It wouldn't snap. He pulled it back and forth so violently that he lost his balance and fell off the limb he had been sitting on. He held on tight to the piece he was trying to get off, and it hung, without snapping, as he held on, breathing heavily. He let himself down onto a lower branch and slid his way back to the trunk. He leaned back against it until he could recover. He dared to look down to see what would have happened had he not grabbed onto the very branch he was trying to break. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Looking down at his pack he remembered what the mini-bears had done last time he left it unattended. He flicked his wand and it rose slowly to him. He set it on the limb he was sitting on, and pulled out an apple. It was crisp and sweet, and he ate it hungrily. He only had a few more left, but he was really hungry. He went against his better judgment and ate another one. He really didn't care for self control. He didn't care for any control not his own.
Glancing around, he went back up to the branch he had been on before hand, but this time used some rope to secure himself to it. He did not want to fall here. He went back to work, bending it at the joint, then back, then twisting until it was bending so much, he bent it all the way back. He did this for over an hour. He was tired and aching but finally, it fell free, and fall I did, hitting many limbs until it hit the ground with a dull thud. That was expected, the ground was soft. Harry untied himself, and started his descent. He grabbed his pack and let it down with the rope, before going down the same route he came up. Once on the ground, he examined his prize. It was about five feet long, and very straight and smooth. He examined the place where he tore it from. It looked like a crown of green, fresh spikes. And Harry had to admit, it looked very cool. Deciding he was going to stay there for the night, he built himself a fire, and to keep the crown there he roasted it a few feet over the flames. He left it a good distance above the highest flame, and he took out his sleeping bag, he lay it out, and got in. Under the canopy of leaves, he went to sleep.
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"You have failed me, you have failed me time and time again. Even with my own power you have failed me. We have lost ten, ten that know too much. And they are going to be questioned and they are going to talk. So, you, all five of you are going to get them. And if you cannot save them, you are going to kill them. If you are not successful you will suffer far more than ever before. If you cannot succeed you had better be dead. Because if I find you alive, you will sorely regret it. Crucio!" The five men writhed in pain and screams.
"Lucius, this is your final chance. I am getting tired of giving you more and more opportunity. Your disappointments aside, you are beginning to bore me. Do not fall short this time. Go, before I choose to kill you."
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Harry woke up and found himself uncomfortably close to the fire. He sat up and gave his eyes some time to adjust to the darkness. He shivered. The night was cold and he had rolled out of his sleeping bag. He wiped the blood from his brow and winced as his hand came across his scar. It was sore as always. He looked around and noticed the color of the sky. The sun would be rising soon. He guessed he was no more than a few hours away from the portal back to Hogwarts. His journey would have been faster if he didn't need to carry the damn log. It was a shame that he didn't have the skill at wandless magic to sustain it hovering for more than a few score of minutes. He wouldn't do anything to change the log for fear of contaminating it with unnatural magic. Harry pulled out and munched on his very last apple. He thought of it as an early breakfast. Something to get him on his way. Wishing he knew of a stream nearby, he packed his things and placed his pack onto his back. He winced at the blister on his heal as the pressure made it sting. He knew he should have worn thicker socks. Wiping away the tears from the pain of his scar, he began to trek in the fresh, cold air of the November morning. Dumbledore had told him that Fudge wanted his wand. Harry was not ready to give it up.
It was shortly after noon when Harry reached the mirror looking portal he had come through. He simply walked through it and took a look around. The Care of Magical Creatures Professor had his first year students learning about owls. Harry thought it was unnecessary to teach them about harmless and intelligently self sufficient creatures. They needed to know about the dark and evil ones. Who would be insane enough to attack with owls? Owls…
Harry let the smirk on his face linger as he approached the large steps leading up to the main entrance. He quickly notice a man wearing all black, reshaping a rock with his wand into different shapes. There was a man at the door, waiting for someone. Harry flipped his hood up and tried to suck in the pain from the blister and walk normally by as if there was nothing wrong. He was positive that his build and frame, when hidden under a cloak would make him appear much smaller. He was right. The man looked him over for a few seconds before going back to his rock. Harry smiled as he started up the stairways to Dumbledore's office.
Drawing a small, plastic film container from his pocket, Harry extracted a jellybean and put it in the gargoyle's mouth. It was so much easier than guessing candies. Sure enough, the gargoyle stepped aside letting Harry enter. He examined the paintings as he ascended to the office, and found it empty. Pulling out the Marauder's Map, Harry quickly found Dumbledore speaking with the man on the front steps. Harry curiously ran his finger over their dots, and was surprised to see a text bubble appear next to the man labeled J. D. Saltpipe. In the bubble it said 'Nope, no luck as of yet. I don't expect him to come thorough the main entrance anyway. There must be forty different ways into Hogwarts. Potter is a sly one, I don't suppose I'll see him unless he wants me to.' Harry sighed at that remark. So he was looking for him. Probably to take his wand away. Harry wasn't ready to give it up. He continued reading as a text bubble appeared next to Dumbledore's dot.
'I wish you luck, anyway, Jerald. However I must return to my office. I fear I have a visitor.' Harry hesitated. It was hard to put something by the man, but it had been done before. The men exchanged good-byes and Harry watched as Dumbledore went into a secret passage running down into the kitchen. He crossed the kitchen and went into another secret passage taking him right into his office. Harry looked up to see the bookcase slid sideways revealing a passage from which the old wizard emerged he was smiling softly.
"Did you succeed?" By this point Harry and Dumbledore had abandoned the formal titles and greetings. Everything was business to the point where it was unnecessary and repetitive to do such mundane things.
Harry lifted up the limb with the porcupine looking tip on the top. Dumbledore accepted it from Harry and examined the wood closely for any flaws or inconsistencies. It appeared to be fresh from the color and texture. The baked tip to keep the top pointed was a nice touch.
"Now what?" Harry asked. He had gotten the damn log. He wanted to get the bloody project over and done with. Perhaps he could then find a nice place to live. His plan was working, with wandering around the world and being sure the press saw him. No one knew where he was so he was home free, as soon as he found a home.
He watched as Dumbledore went into one of his upper cabinets and removed what looked like a clothe rolled up and tied with a ribbon. He untied the ribbon and unrolled the cloth. In pockets in the cloth were a variety of knives and other tools. All of which looked sharp and in pristine condition.
"Now, young man, you will need to carve all the bark off of your branch. It needs to be pure wood, as to keep it as consistent as possible. Further more, you must carve the wood until its design matches your inner vision of it. Once this process is done, you will place your power within it." Harry took a closer look at the tools. He took out one of the knives and placed it against his finger. Dumbledore couldn't see what he was doing, but when he did see, he was mildly disgusted. Harry sliced a thin patch of skin off of his finger, without going deep enough to make it bleed.
"These are good tools" Harry said as he kept examining them, "but how do I know when I'm done?"
"It's like love Harry, you just know" Dumbledore said in his normal wise-ass voice. As soon as he saw the doubt on Harry's face, he knew he had used the wrong analogy on his pupil. "You will know when you are done. Trust yourself" Harry sighed and with a nod, rolled up the blade kit.
"Thanks, pops. Am I in the same room I was in last time I visited?" Harry asked dully. He really didn't like staying in the dungeons.
"Nonsense. There is that abandoned classroom near the Ravenclaw wing. I gather you'd appreciate it more. The house elves have already equipped it properly. It should be a bit warmer, despite missing a fireplace." Dumbledore said. He watched Harry read the map he had until he located the room. Harry smiled in understanding and without another word he left. Dumbledore remembered the feel of the limb Harry had received. It was strong, and durable. It was not often chosen for the project Harry had embarked on. But then again, nothing Harry did ever was "normal."
Sorry this took so long. Visiting colleges, doing term papers, not failing AP physics, we all, or at least most of us know what's it's like. I have been up 36 hours straight because of the damn snow, and I am falling asleep at the keyboard, so please pardon any mistakes, I am sure there are plenty. Leave a review, I promise I'll respond to them in the next chapter. Too tired to respond this time. Good-night everyone.
