Chapter One: Little Snake, Little Snake, Where Have You Been?
- July 31st, 1996 -
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"Boy! Get up!"
Harry fell out of his bed with his head pounding. It couldn't be morning already.
"Move!" Uncle Vernon hissed.
"I'm up, I'm up." Harry grumbled as he put his glasses on. Couldn't this wait?
His uncle stood at the door, sneering. "Quiet and get your things together. You're leaving."
Yes! Who was here? Remus? Sirius?
Getting dressed, Harry pulled on his cargoes, a white t-shirt, socks, and ran his fingers through his hair to get the worst of the tangles out. He pulled on his trainers, his fingers stumbling over the laces as he rushed to get them tied. "Where am I going?"
"I don't care, boy, and I don't want to know."
Confused, Harry stared at his uncle. "Who's here?"
"Get moving." Ignoring Harry's question, Uncle Vernon gestured at his truck. "You have five minutes to pack."
Shrugging the question off as not important, Harry packed his things into his trunk. "That's everything."
His uncle grabbed the trunk and carried it downstairs. Harry followed him to the front door. "What time is it?"
"Midnight." Harry did not like the look on Uncle Vernon's face. The man was smiling. Satisfied.
"Oh," he said. Were the Death Eaters waiting outside? Was his uncle really handing him over to them? And why wasn't Dumbledore doing anything to stop this?
His uncle opened the door and pushed his trunk out onto the grass. "Get out."
"Where's Aunt Petunia?" Harry wasn't taking one step out that door, until he knew what was going on.
"Sleeping and in full agreement with me. We want you gone. You've been a burden on this family long enough. Legally, we are no longer responsible for you. And you make sure you tell your people that."
Then it hit him. It was his birthday. He was sixteen.
"Get out, boy! Out!" His uncle grabbed his arm and pushed him roughly outside. "You're no longer welcome here."
Harry stumbled down the steps as the door slammed shut, quickly followed by the lock clicking into place. Yay, Happy Birthday to me.
Harry looked up and down the street. Just what he needed, something else for newspapers. He could imagine tomorrow's headline – Boy Who Lived Needs Place to Live. Snape was going to have a field day with this.
And where was the person who was supposed to be on duty for the order tonight? They should have made an appearance by now. Unless, of course, they'd taken off and left him alone as well. Harry stalked over to his trunk and flopped down on it. This was just bloody brilliant.
An owl dropped a letter at his feet, which Harry couldn't be bothered to read right now. He put it in his pocket for later. What a way to start his birthday. More owls dropped presents and letters on the ground. Hedwig landed on his shoulder with his present from Ron, which he removed and put in his trunk with the others.
So, no order and fortunately, no Voldemort. What was he going to do for the rest of the summer and where was he going to go? Dumbledore wouldn't let him stay with the Weasleys. And he couldn't put Hermione's family in that kind of danger. They didn't have anyway of defending themselves. That left Hogwarts.
Harry sighed and opened his trunk, looking for his wand and his money pouch. How much money did he have? He'd planned to replenish his funds when he went to get his school supplies and he knew he didn't have much left in his pouch at the end of the year. Two galleons, it wasn't much, but it would be enough.
First things first, catch the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron and he could figure out things once he got there.
Harry shrank his trunk and placed it in his pocket. It didn't really matter to him anymore what the Ministry thought of his use of magic outside of school. They could take away his wand, but they wouldn't. He was too famous, too needed, and the Ministry could no longer deny that Voldemort had returned.
Harry held his wand out and signalled for the bus.
A loud bang rent the air as the Knight Bus came flying down the road screeching to a halt in front of him. A conductor in a purple uniform stepped from the bus to help Harry aboard all the while chattering away. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Phillo Philpot, and I will be your conductor this evening. North, South, East, West, what's your pleasure, sir?"
"What's happened to Stan?"
"Eh, Stan, he's gone on to greener pastures and down right happier in the bargain."
Harry nodded and climbed aboard.
"Luggage, sir?"
"No." Harry shook his head.
"This here bed all right with ya?"
"Fine, fine."
"Now, where to mate."
"Leaky Cauldron."
"That'll be fourteen sickles for the bed. And an extra three sickles will get you hot chocolate or..."
"No thanks. Just the bed." Harry handed over the fare and was about to settle into the bed when Phillo spoke again.
"What's your name?" As dishevelled as he was, Harry was hoping he'd go unnoticed. The driver and the conductor weren't the same people as last time. No one knew where he lived, right? He just might get away with it.
"Oh, sorry." Harry thought quickly and held out his hand. "Billy Baggins."
Phillo shook his hand enthusiastically. "Welcome aboard Mr. Baggins. Enjoy your ride. We'll be at the Leaky Cauldron by morning."
Harry fell back into the bed too exhausted to worry about the speed of the vehicle or the frantic turns it took. He was asleep within minutes.
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"Mr. Baggins."
"Coming, Uncle Vernon." Harry mumbled as someone shook his shoulder.
"Mr. Baggins, time to rise and shine, sir. Leaky Cauldron. Your stop."
Harry groaned. Already? He'd barely fallen to sleep. "What time is it?"
"Sunrise. You've picked a perfect time for travelling, sir. There's barely a soul astir," Phillo Philpot said with a joyful flare.
Harry groaned and tried to get up.
"All right there, Mr. Baggins?"
"M'fine." Harry struggled to his feet searching for his glasses. "Have you seen my glasses?"
"Here you are, sir! Right on the bed where you left them." The overly happy attendant put the glasses on Harry's face cockeyed, leaving Harry half blind and fumbling to right them as he walked toward the door.
"Let me help, sir." Harry stumbled down the stairs and would have fallen if Phillo hadn't been holding his arm the entire time. He sank gratefully to the ground, his back against the wall of The Leaky Cauldron, hoping the world would stop spinning. He was hungry and tired. And he still had a ways to go before he reached safety.
Phillo hopped back on the bus and waved frantically from the door as it pulled away. "And thank you for choosing the Knight Bus as your mode of transportation this evening, Mr. Baggins. We've enjoyed your company!"
Harry winced at the noise as the bus exploded into motion yet again. His head pounded and his stomach growled. He really needed something to eat, and a bed that didn't move. That would be his first priority. Then, he'd go to Hogwarts. Dumbledore would know what to do. He always did.
Harry sighed and, using the wall for balance, rose from the ground. The dizziness from earlier was gone for the moment and Harry took advantage of the situation to slip inside the inn as quietly as he could. Fortunately, the innkeeper Tom was nowhere to be seen and Harry rushed to the fireplace. Since he'd had no idea what the schedule was for the train, his only hope of reaching Hogwarts quickly rested with the floo system. And the soot would help hide his telltale scar on the other end.
Taking a handful of power, he threw it into the fireplace, stepped inside and spoke, "The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmede," as loudly as he dared.
As Harry tumbled out of the fireplace, his world burst into agony, terror, and noise. Terrible heat licked at his skin and filled his mouth and nose with smoke. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe. His eyes watered in an attempt to clear them. He coughed and coughed, waving his hands around in vain trying to clear the air. Fire. The restaurant was on fire!
He had to get out. Outside where it was safe, but which way? He flashed back onto his primary school training. The floor. Get onto the floor where the air was clearer. Harry fell to his knees, still coughing and rubbing his eyes. It was so hard to think. What next? What next? Where was the door?
Harry started crawling along the floor staying as far from the heat as he could. He had no sense of direction in the blaze and the roar of the flames drowned out any other sound. He just had to keep moving away from the heat. It was his only chance. Beams fell around him and all he could think was, 'get out, get out, get out'.
An explosion to his right disintegrated the wall and opened a pathway outside. As quickly as he could, Harry scrambled for that blessed hole and tumbled out into fresh air. Blessed fresh air. He rolled away from the burning building concentrating solely on clearing his lungs. It was several more moments before the world around him began to penetrate the need for oxygen.
Screams, curses, and horrifying laughter echoed around him as people fled in panic from the battle he'd unknowingly flooed right into. Just his luck, Hogsmede was under attack from the Death Eaters. It couldn't be anyone else.
Struggling to his feet, Harry searched his pocket for his wand. His mind was torn between hiding and jumping into the fight. The choice was taken from him seconds later as a masked and robed figure stalked toward him. The force of a punishing pummeling hex threw Harry back, stealing his breath once again before he'd even had the chance to raise his wand in defence. The Death Eater was toying with him, intent on torture not killing.
He didn't understand. Why not Avada Kedavra?
Another curse lashed the morning, and Harry cringed waiting for it strike. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes to see his opponent crumpled on the ground screaming, his body contorted beyond all human ability. He watched unable to care as the bones in the Death Eater's arms and legs began to snap under the strain. His screams ceased abruptly as his neck bent back in an impossibly angle. Dead.
What was that hex? Whatever it was, Harry wasn't too thrilled on meeting the person who threw it, jumped to his feet, and ran.
Loud cracks exploded around him, missed curses and hexes striking empty air where he'd been just seconds before. His side hurt, his lungs ached, but he didn't stop for a second. If he stopped moving, they would get him. He didn't know who'd killed the Death Eater, but whoever it was, thought he was one too…or just didn't care.
Harry weaved in and out of the buildings as Aurors began to apparate in to join the fight. Tossing out the spare stunning curse or expellimentarius, Harry did what he could to disarm the enemy. No one knew he was there, nor who he was and for the moment, that was just fine. He had no idea what was going on and felt exposed. And worse yet, no one to guard his back.
He couldn't remain out in the open and besides, what could he do in all of the confusion? He didn't even know who was on whose side. Was it an internal war among the Death Eaters? Did Voldemort finally lose it and start killing his own people?
As the fighting began to die down, Harry slipped into an alleyway to make his way to the school. He would be in a world of trouble with Dumbledore if the Aurors found him in Hogsmede instead of safely tucked away on Privot Drive. There would be time to deal with the fallout tomorrow, after he'd had some sleep.
Hogwarts loomed in front of him before his mind had time to process that he'd reached safety, his wand clutched uselessly in his hand. Falling against the comforting stone, Harry clutched his side and just breathed. Now all he had to do was get inside.
The doors opened as if he'd commanded them.
Harry froze. Was someone coming out? He desperately looked for a place to hide, but no one came through the doors. Cautiously, he peaked around the edge. Still no one. Not one to question such good luck, Harry slipped inside and started up the stairs. He was trailed by one of the portraits that whispered to him just as he reached the safety of Gryffindor Tower. "Little snake, little snake, and just where have you been?"
"Is this where I'm supposed to respond with 'to London, to visit the Queen', because I haven't."
"Such spirit." The portrait laughed quietly. "Don't you know boy, that you shouldn't be out wandering alone in such dangerous times."
"What's it to you?"
"Because my little snake, you are misplaced. A snake amid the lions, whatever would Godric say?" The portrait slyly hinted.
"That I'm right where I belong!" Harry hissed. "Now, get out of my way."
"By all means, little snake. Go and hide." The portrait laughed evilly.
"Shut. Up. One more word from you and you'll find your frame burning in the grate." Harry threatened.
This only made the portrait laugh more, his voice echoing in the dark hallway. "Definitely the wrong house for you, my boy." The portrait swung open anyway, letting him inside. "Good day, Harry Potter."
"Good riddance," Harry hissed just as he realized that he'd been speaking in Parseltongue. Fuck. There were only two people in the world that could speak it, himself and Voldemort. If anyone had come along, it would have been a dead give away. He'd have to be more careful in the future when he stumbled across Salazar Slytherin.
"Think like a Muggle, Harry," he mumbled to himself. "It's what's kept you alive."
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tbc...