Wow! Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
Miss Lesley - Thanks for your tips! I had thought about several of those things, but certain ones, such as the tracking of the wand thing, are key to the story. You'll see in this chapter.
LocalfreakBoy - Thank you very much! I prefer showing rather than telling; in my experience, it allows the reader to analyze the story for themselves.
Blue Rose Dragon - Thank you! I find that the angsty music of Meteora is an excellent backdrop for Harry's difficult position. This chapter in particular is particularly suited for the job, I think.
METEORA by AnonymousBystander
---------------
Chapter 3 - Easier to Run
---------------
"Draco! Over here!" hissed an ice-cold voice.
Draco Malfoy turned towards the sound of the voice, spotting moonlight glinting off of his father's alabaster hair.
"I don't know why you wanted to meet me here in the forest, of all places, Father," Draco whispered, afraid his drawling voice would carry up to the castle. "There are much more secure places than this off the grounds of Hogwarts."
"Yes, Draco," said Lucius Malfoy icily, "but Dumbledore would notice if you left the grounds, he notices everything, so we must take precautions."
Draco was annoyed, but in this case, obedience was better than rudeness. "Yes, sir," he muttered.
"Draco," Lucius said, whispering even more softly and moving in closer to Draco, "you know what you must do, don't you?"
Draco choked. "You're - you're sending me after Potter?" Lucius nodded. "Why me?"
"Well, for obvious reasons, the Dark Lord can't do it. Any dissappearance from the highest Death Eaters would be conspicuous, and Wormtail refused to kill Potter and is now...not fit for the job. Furthermore, two missing students from Hogwarts will be noticed, and will not look good for Dumbledore, who's only just been recognized as sane. You'll run away tomorrow night, and follow Potter. Come back here tomorrow night at midnight; supplies will be waiting with you. Good luck." Lucius Malfoy disappeared into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest.
---
It's easier to run replacing this pain with something numb it's so much easier to go than face all this pain here all alone
--
The wind swept through Harry's hair as an exhilarated feeling tumbled through his stomach. This was what it meant to be truly free, in the air, dancing through light pillows of clouds, moisture and exitement gathering on his face, all obligations left behind him in a dot that was fading fast.
As he left the castle, the inner pain within him faded, hiding itself in some deep recesses of his mind which he couldn't feel. It doidn't bother him that the pain was just hiding; he was just glad that he couldn't feel it anymore.
He was gone...
But where to go? First, he needed money, but not Galleons. He doubted that he could stay in the wizarding world; he was much too conspicuous, he'd be sighted instantly. But then came the problem of actually getting to Muggle London and to Diagon alley, where he could get and exchange money. He had no idea where Hogwarts was.
Then Harry got an idea. He turned around in midair and started to head back towards Hogwarts. But instead of going to the castle, Harry landed in Hogsmeade. He landed in the pitch black town center and crept along the silent street to Oldman's Currencies, a run-down old currency exchange center in an alley off of the main street.
Harry took out is wand. He knew it was risky, using magic, because it was easily traceable, but he would be out of Hogsmeade by the time Dumbledore or whoever else was watching him would have time to raise the alarm and get here.
"Alohomora," Harry whispered at the lock. It glowed green, then red, but didn't click open.
'Shit.'
Harry slipped around to the back of the building and found a back door.
"Alohomora," he whispered agian. The lock clicked and the door silently swung open. Harry crept inside, making sure not to make a sound.
The room he entered was dark. Fully knowing the risks, Harry muttered, "Lumos," and his wand's tip ignited with a small glowing light.
The room was small and cramped. One entire wall was covered with drawers of different shapes and sizes. Harry went over to the wall and held his wand close to one of the drawers, which had a card that read "American $". Other drawers held other muggle currencies from around the world. Eventually, Harry found the drawer that held English pounds. He opened it and grabbed a handful of crisp bills.
As an afterthought as Harry exited the store, Harry opened his money back and emptied his last few galleons onto the table. Hopefully, he thought, it would be enough to cover whatever he had taken.
Now, he could fly under cover of darkness to the nearest muggle settlement, and take a train to London, where he'd be able to get money from his vault and start a new life.
---
"Why didn't the alarm go off?!" Dumbledore demanded of his deputy, Minerva McGonogall.
"The charm is set so that the alarm is only set off if something is stolen from the shop! Potter left more than enough money to cover what he took, so technically, he didn't steal." She paused contemplatively. "Albus, how are we going to get him back? We can't trust that he'll continue to use magic that we can trace."
"Yes, Minerva, I doubt that he will. However, there is somebody who does know how to track him..."
McGonogall gasped. "You don't mean...?"
Dumbledore smiled bitterly. "I was lucky enough to hear young Mr. Malfoy's conversation with his father...I've already placed a tracing spell on him. Voldemort has the power to track Harry using Draco, and I have the power to track Draco."
"But isn't that dangerous, Albus," McGonogall pleaded, "to leave the hope of the wizarding world in the hands of somebody who's out to kill him?"
"Minerva, I'm afraid we have no other choice."
---
Something has been taken from deep inside of me a secret I've kept locked away no one can ever see. Wounds so deep they never show they never go away. Like moving pictures in my head, for years and years they've played.
--
Draco crept into the forest, silent as the night itself. As expected, when he reached the arranged meetingplace, there was a small pile of objects, on top of which was a parchment note. Igniting his wand and holding it close to the ink, Draco read:
"Draco--
I'm glad to see that you have found your instructions and supplies without difficulty. As you know very much is resting on this, Draco. Do not fail me, or the dark lord will be after both of our blood.
The supplies here are very simple. The first is a wand solution. Simple dip your wand in this liquid and it will modify your 'point me' spell to always point in the direction of Potter. Furthermore, it will vibrate at different levels depending on how close to him you are.
The second is a Firebolt. It is the best way for you to get around.
The third is a simple, fast-acting poison. If it comes to it, you can just throw it in Potter's face. It should take about three seconds to take effect.
From here, I must cut off all contact with you, though you must owl me immediately once you kill him. If you cannot, or he kills you, then you deserve to die.
Cordially, your loving father,
Lucius Malfoy"
Draco scowled. Ifi he didn't bring home Potter's body, he wouldn't be able to set foot in Malfoy Manor again.
'Never mind,' thought Draco, 'that's not a problem. I'll just kill Potter and be done with it.'
Draco picked up the small bottle of purple wand solution and dipped his wand in it. It hissed and glowed blue, before dying down again.
"Point me," he whispered, and his wand swiveled around on his palm to point almost due east. "Well," Draco said to himself, "let's go!"
He mounted the firebolt and kicked off, soaring above the trees and away from Hogwarts.
---
"How much is a ticket to London?"
"Er -- twenty pounds. Train comes at eight though, so you'll have to wait."
Harry laid a twenty pound note on the ledge and the man behind the ticket booth handed him his ticked. Harry glanced at his watch; it was still seven A.M., which meant he had an hour before he'd have to get on the train.
Harry yawned; he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep. He'd flown on his broomstick for a few hours before spotting a town and discreetly landing. He'd slept for a couple of hours on a bench, but was still exhausted.
Not wanting to lie down on the hard, uncomfortable bench again, Harry made his way over to the Hillshire Inn, a small, nearly empty bar close to the train station. He sat down at the bar, and, wishing that he could have had a nice cool butterbeer, he purchased a coca-cola and sipped it slowly, evaluating his situation.
He regretted having to take the train, it was too clear a day to try flying over it, and he knew he'd be more difficult to track if he was traveling like all of the other muggles.
Harry stared mournfully into the dark soda. Was this the right thing to do, runny away from all of his fears?
'You coward,' a voice inside of him said. 'You're too scared to face scary ol' Voldemort so you're running away...'
'No!' another voice shouted. 'I can't avoid my battle with Voldemort; the prophecy says so. I'm running away from something else, you fool.'
'And what would that be?'
'From you!' shouted the reasonable voice. Harry wished desperately that he could have something to distract him from the annoying voices inside his head. Luckily, something, something wearing a disgusting green dress cut down to the navel, sat down next to him.
"Hi, honey," said the woman. She looked to be only a few years older than Harry, and she was quite obviously a hooker. She leaned in close to him. "You look a little lonely."
Harry didn't say anything, he just took a sip of his coke.
"I can help you relieve some of your...stress."
Harry couldn't believe this. He was in a small town called Hillshire and a hooker was trying to get him into bed at seven in the morning?!
He turned to her with a gracious smile. "Thanks, but no thanks."
"Why not?" she purred into his ear.
Harry put his mouth right next to her ear and whispered, "I'm a fag."
She leaned the other way and looked at him. "Oh," she muttered, abashed. "Sorry."
She walked away. Harry sat there, whiling away the time until his train came.
------
A/N - I hope you liked it. The next chapter, if you think this fic is fit to go on, is 'Lying from You'.
Miss Lesley - Thanks for your tips! I had thought about several of those things, but certain ones, such as the tracking of the wand thing, are key to the story. You'll see in this chapter.
LocalfreakBoy - Thank you very much! I prefer showing rather than telling; in my experience, it allows the reader to analyze the story for themselves.
Blue Rose Dragon - Thank you! I find that the angsty music of Meteora is an excellent backdrop for Harry's difficult position. This chapter in particular is particularly suited for the job, I think.
METEORA by AnonymousBystander
---------------
Chapter 3 - Easier to Run
---------------
"Draco! Over here!" hissed an ice-cold voice.
Draco Malfoy turned towards the sound of the voice, spotting moonlight glinting off of his father's alabaster hair.
"I don't know why you wanted to meet me here in the forest, of all places, Father," Draco whispered, afraid his drawling voice would carry up to the castle. "There are much more secure places than this off the grounds of Hogwarts."
"Yes, Draco," said Lucius Malfoy icily, "but Dumbledore would notice if you left the grounds, he notices everything, so we must take precautions."
Draco was annoyed, but in this case, obedience was better than rudeness. "Yes, sir," he muttered.
"Draco," Lucius said, whispering even more softly and moving in closer to Draco, "you know what you must do, don't you?"
Draco choked. "You're - you're sending me after Potter?" Lucius nodded. "Why me?"
"Well, for obvious reasons, the Dark Lord can't do it. Any dissappearance from the highest Death Eaters would be conspicuous, and Wormtail refused to kill Potter and is now...not fit for the job. Furthermore, two missing students from Hogwarts will be noticed, and will not look good for Dumbledore, who's only just been recognized as sane. You'll run away tomorrow night, and follow Potter. Come back here tomorrow night at midnight; supplies will be waiting with you. Good luck." Lucius Malfoy disappeared into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest.
---
It's easier to run replacing this pain with something numb it's so much easier to go than face all this pain here all alone
--
The wind swept through Harry's hair as an exhilarated feeling tumbled through his stomach. This was what it meant to be truly free, in the air, dancing through light pillows of clouds, moisture and exitement gathering on his face, all obligations left behind him in a dot that was fading fast.
As he left the castle, the inner pain within him faded, hiding itself in some deep recesses of his mind which he couldn't feel. It doidn't bother him that the pain was just hiding; he was just glad that he couldn't feel it anymore.
He was gone...
But where to go? First, he needed money, but not Galleons. He doubted that he could stay in the wizarding world; he was much too conspicuous, he'd be sighted instantly. But then came the problem of actually getting to Muggle London and to Diagon alley, where he could get and exchange money. He had no idea where Hogwarts was.
Then Harry got an idea. He turned around in midair and started to head back towards Hogwarts. But instead of going to the castle, Harry landed in Hogsmeade. He landed in the pitch black town center and crept along the silent street to Oldman's Currencies, a run-down old currency exchange center in an alley off of the main street.
Harry took out is wand. He knew it was risky, using magic, because it was easily traceable, but he would be out of Hogsmeade by the time Dumbledore or whoever else was watching him would have time to raise the alarm and get here.
"Alohomora," Harry whispered at the lock. It glowed green, then red, but didn't click open.
'Shit.'
Harry slipped around to the back of the building and found a back door.
"Alohomora," he whispered agian. The lock clicked and the door silently swung open. Harry crept inside, making sure not to make a sound.
The room he entered was dark. Fully knowing the risks, Harry muttered, "Lumos," and his wand's tip ignited with a small glowing light.
The room was small and cramped. One entire wall was covered with drawers of different shapes and sizes. Harry went over to the wall and held his wand close to one of the drawers, which had a card that read "American $". Other drawers held other muggle currencies from around the world. Eventually, Harry found the drawer that held English pounds. He opened it and grabbed a handful of crisp bills.
As an afterthought as Harry exited the store, Harry opened his money back and emptied his last few galleons onto the table. Hopefully, he thought, it would be enough to cover whatever he had taken.
Now, he could fly under cover of darkness to the nearest muggle settlement, and take a train to London, where he'd be able to get money from his vault and start a new life.
---
"Why didn't the alarm go off?!" Dumbledore demanded of his deputy, Minerva McGonogall.
"The charm is set so that the alarm is only set off if something is stolen from the shop! Potter left more than enough money to cover what he took, so technically, he didn't steal." She paused contemplatively. "Albus, how are we going to get him back? We can't trust that he'll continue to use magic that we can trace."
"Yes, Minerva, I doubt that he will. However, there is somebody who does know how to track him..."
McGonogall gasped. "You don't mean...?"
Dumbledore smiled bitterly. "I was lucky enough to hear young Mr. Malfoy's conversation with his father...I've already placed a tracing spell on him. Voldemort has the power to track Harry using Draco, and I have the power to track Draco."
"But isn't that dangerous, Albus," McGonogall pleaded, "to leave the hope of the wizarding world in the hands of somebody who's out to kill him?"
"Minerva, I'm afraid we have no other choice."
---
Something has been taken from deep inside of me a secret I've kept locked away no one can ever see. Wounds so deep they never show they never go away. Like moving pictures in my head, for years and years they've played.
--
Draco crept into the forest, silent as the night itself. As expected, when he reached the arranged meetingplace, there was a small pile of objects, on top of which was a parchment note. Igniting his wand and holding it close to the ink, Draco read:
"Draco--
I'm glad to see that you have found your instructions and supplies without difficulty. As you know very much is resting on this, Draco. Do not fail me, or the dark lord will be after both of our blood.
The supplies here are very simple. The first is a wand solution. Simple dip your wand in this liquid and it will modify your 'point me' spell to always point in the direction of Potter. Furthermore, it will vibrate at different levels depending on how close to him you are.
The second is a Firebolt. It is the best way for you to get around.
The third is a simple, fast-acting poison. If it comes to it, you can just throw it in Potter's face. It should take about three seconds to take effect.
From here, I must cut off all contact with you, though you must owl me immediately once you kill him. If you cannot, or he kills you, then you deserve to die.
Cordially, your loving father,
Lucius Malfoy"
Draco scowled. Ifi he didn't bring home Potter's body, he wouldn't be able to set foot in Malfoy Manor again.
'Never mind,' thought Draco, 'that's not a problem. I'll just kill Potter and be done with it.'
Draco picked up the small bottle of purple wand solution and dipped his wand in it. It hissed and glowed blue, before dying down again.
"Point me," he whispered, and his wand swiveled around on his palm to point almost due east. "Well," Draco said to himself, "let's go!"
He mounted the firebolt and kicked off, soaring above the trees and away from Hogwarts.
---
"How much is a ticket to London?"
"Er -- twenty pounds. Train comes at eight though, so you'll have to wait."
Harry laid a twenty pound note on the ledge and the man behind the ticket booth handed him his ticked. Harry glanced at his watch; it was still seven A.M., which meant he had an hour before he'd have to get on the train.
Harry yawned; he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep. He'd flown on his broomstick for a few hours before spotting a town and discreetly landing. He'd slept for a couple of hours on a bench, but was still exhausted.
Not wanting to lie down on the hard, uncomfortable bench again, Harry made his way over to the Hillshire Inn, a small, nearly empty bar close to the train station. He sat down at the bar, and, wishing that he could have had a nice cool butterbeer, he purchased a coca-cola and sipped it slowly, evaluating his situation.
He regretted having to take the train, it was too clear a day to try flying over it, and he knew he'd be more difficult to track if he was traveling like all of the other muggles.
Harry stared mournfully into the dark soda. Was this the right thing to do, runny away from all of his fears?
'You coward,' a voice inside of him said. 'You're too scared to face scary ol' Voldemort so you're running away...'
'No!' another voice shouted. 'I can't avoid my battle with Voldemort; the prophecy says so. I'm running away from something else, you fool.'
'And what would that be?'
'From you!' shouted the reasonable voice. Harry wished desperately that he could have something to distract him from the annoying voices inside his head. Luckily, something, something wearing a disgusting green dress cut down to the navel, sat down next to him.
"Hi, honey," said the woman. She looked to be only a few years older than Harry, and she was quite obviously a hooker. She leaned in close to him. "You look a little lonely."
Harry didn't say anything, he just took a sip of his coke.
"I can help you relieve some of your...stress."
Harry couldn't believe this. He was in a small town called Hillshire and a hooker was trying to get him into bed at seven in the morning?!
He turned to her with a gracious smile. "Thanks, but no thanks."
"Why not?" she purred into his ear.
Harry put his mouth right next to her ear and whispered, "I'm a fag."
She leaned the other way and looked at him. "Oh," she muttered, abashed. "Sorry."
She walked away. Harry sat there, whiling away the time until his train came.
------
A/N - I hope you liked it. The next chapter, if you think this fic is fit to go on, is 'Lying from You'.