Disclaimer: not mine, all J.K. Rowling's and friends.
From chapter three:
Liz looked at him with wide eyes that held some sort of knowledge. "Harry, are you holding a – a wand?"
Chapter 4: Untitled
Harry looked around at the five muggles staring at him and his wand. Only Andy knew the truth, but Liz looked as if she knew he was a wizard too. He was trying to decide whether he should obliviate them, stun them and run, or explain everything to them. Since he didn't know the intricacies of casting a selective obliviation spell, and didn't think he could run, he decided just to go with the tide. After all, maybe Liz just thought he was a rather strange boy who carried a pretend wand… he doubted that.
"Are you a witch?" he asked Liz. Oops, that was definitely not what I wanted to ask first.
"No, but I've heard… stories," she said uncertainly.
"Oh," he was disappointed. He hoped she was a witch and she'd know how to get help for him. "Er, should we have dessert?" he asked in a lame attempt to change the conversation.
Josh looked at him a little awed and a little frightened. "What are you? What did you do to me?"
"I-I just got scared… I reacted on instinct from my dream. I have to get to Surrey," he mumbled mostly to himself. Where were the officials? Shouldn't he have been arrested for using magic not only in front of muggles, but on a muggle?
"We saw how you reacted, but how did you do it? Why did you ask Liz if she was a witch? And what is that?" he asked pointed to the wand again. Harry realized he had it raised in a defensive position and lowered it.
"I, well, I am a w-wizard, and this is my wand. Never mind that for now. Liz, what kind of stories have you heard? Where did you hear them if you're not a witch?" Harry asked quietly.
"My grandmother used to tell us kids all kinds of tales when we were young. She would tell us about her sister's school, and how paintings moved and talked. She loved to tell us about people flying on broomsticks and casting spells. The creatures she talked about were amazing… When I was little I always wanted to ride a unicorn," she said with a laugh and slight blush. "We all just thought they were stories she'd made up, because she was such a good story teller. It's true, thought, isn't it? All of the spells and creatures and all that is true."
Harry nodded thoughtfully, then he snorted. "Except for riding a unicorn. If she ever told you that, she was making it up. They're much too proud and pure to let a human ride. Do you think we'd be able to contact your grandmother or her sister?" he asked hopefully.
"No, she died a few years ago. I never knew her sister; she was killed many years before my father was born. I heard once that she was murdered, but no one really knows much about what happened," she explained sadly.
"I'm sorry, Liz. I didn't mean to bring it up," Harry apologized.
"It's alright, Harry. Now, about you – what exactly is going on?" she asked seriously.
"Yeah, I'd like to know that too," demanded Cory, who was looking not a little afraid of Harry and his wand.
Andy spoke before Harry could explain. "Let's get everyone off the floor first, eh? I don't really care what Harry is or can do, all I know is that he's still hurt and my guest."
They followed his directions and Harry found himself back on the couch with Josh and Andy on either side and the others on chairs in front of him.
"Are you feeling alright, Josh?" Harry asked worriedly.
Josh smiled, "Don't worry, buddy. It's not like I never took a knock to the head before, and your little drink made it stop hurting. What about you? You don't look so good," he observed.
In truth, Harry felt like he could drop dead any moment. Well, that was an exaggeration, but he didn't feel particularly well. The injuries were enough, but to have to explain magic to a group of muggles was quite another chore.
"You look like you've been run down by a pack of wolves," joked Samantha.
"Really? I must look pretty good then. I feel like I've been taken down by a dragon or two." He smiled at her to try and ease her concern. "I'm kidding, I feel fine."
"Liar," smirked Liz.
"Well, ok, maybe not completely fine, but I'll live." Harry looked around and saw that they were not going to drop the whole magic issue, and he was too tired to fight it at this point. "Right, where to start… Ok, I'm a wizard, which you people seem to have accepted with an odd amount of trust."
"Nah, we're just waiting for all the details before we send you off to the funny farm," stated Josh with a barely restrained smile.
"Well, I guess I can show you some stuff, considering I haven't been taken away yet."
"What do you mean taken away?" asked Samantha frantically.
"It's against wizarding law to do magic in front of muggles, non-magical people. I should have at least gotten a warning or something. Maybe this country's government isn't as strict. Anyway, what should I show you?" he asked himself out loud. He smiled and said, "Accio broom! Accio photo album!" The two items came flying into the room, narrowly missing Andy's head, and landed on Harry's lap. "Well, this is my broom. Yes, it flies. No, I will not show you right now because I'll fall off, and we'd need to go outside where I hear it's pretty cold." They laughed a little as they stared at the broom. "This is full of wizarding photos. The people move around, but they don't make any sound." He let them look at the pictures for a while, until they'd seen them all.
"So, where do you really come from, Harry? Why are you here?" Cory asked. He seemed to have lost some of his fear and was merely curious at this point.
Harry sighed. "I don't know. It's true that I just showed up in the forest, and I don't know who I am. I couldn't have apparated here, I wasn't strong enough. Oh, sorry, apparating is like teleporting from one place to another. You have to concentrate and be in fairly good physical condition to do it, otherwise you could splinch yourself. That's where part of you stays where you started, and part ends up at your destination. I don't think I flew in, because my broom was shrunk and in my pocket when I woke up. I must have taken a port key, but whether that was mine or theirs I don't know."
"'Theirs'?" asked Liz.
"The wizards who captured me. Er, listen, I need to leave this place. They're still looking for me, and I don't want you guys to get caught in the middle if they figure out where I am."
"What do you mean you're leaving?" exclaimed Andy. "Might I remind you that you can barely walk across the room, much less get to England?!"
"I know, Andy, but you don't understand. If these men find me here, they will hurt you, maybe even kill you. I won't let that happen," stated Harry.
Andy didn't seem swayed, but asked a different question. "Where will you go?"
"Surrey, England."
"What's there?"
"Apparently my relatives," Harry said distractedly. He didn't know how he would get there, but he had to.
"When did you remember that?" Andy asked.
"I didn't. It was in my dream. I can't explain it, but I'm dreaming of the group of wizards who are after me. I know it's real. They've decided to attack my relatives to try to get me back. I need to go help them."
"Harry, even if those dreams are real, it's just a big trap. Can't you see that?" Josh asked.
"Yes, I know. If I go in expecting a trap, I'll be ok. Hey, none of this is your responsibility. You don't even know me. You've already helped more than I could have hoped." Harry was absent-mindedly rubbing his chest, which had become tight in the past several minutes. He thought it was from the kindness of these strangers, but he was starting to question that as it got more painful breath after breath.
"Harry?" Andy's voice asked next to him. Harry's eyes were closed, but he didn't really remember closing them. He heard people calling his name, but it was too hard to breathe, and he couldn't answer.
He felt something cool pushed into his hand and looked down. It was a pain relieving potion. He opened it and drank a couple mouthfuls right away.
After a few seconds his breathing became easier and he looked up at Andy, who was looking both anxious and relieved.
"Feeling better?" Andy asked.
"Yeah, thanks for that. Merlin, what I would give for a healer right now… Anyway, where was I? I kind of lost my train of thought."
"It's ok, Harry. Why don't you go to bed? We'll worry about other things in the morning."
"Wait, Surrey. I have to get back there!"
"We'll take care of it, Harry," said Liz.
"What? How?" he asked.
"We'll pool our money and get you a plane ticket," explained Josh.
"Aren't those really expensive?" asked Harry.
"Nah, don't worry about it. It means a free ticket for you. But, you have to get better first, young man," Samantha commanded.
Harry was exhausted and didn't care to argue on the matter anymore. Although, he was pretty sure those plane tickets were quite pricey. "Alright, I'll go to bed. We'll talk about the plane ticket thing later. Hey, Andy, are there anymore healing potions left?"
Andy looked through the pouch again. "Yeah, one and a half. Do you want the whole one?"
Harry thought for a moment, "No, I better just take the half. I don't want to run out if anything else happens. I don't have the ingredients here to brew anymore either. Damn, I shouldn't have gone through so many. I've never needed more than a whole one before…" Harry trailed off voicing his thoughts out loud.
"Do you think you need more help than just the potions?" Andy asked.
"What? Oh, no, I'll be fine. It's just that the potions usually accompany a healer's spells and such. Don't worry, I'll be good as new in the morning," he assured them.
With that, he got up and walked unsteadily to the bedroom and crawled into the comfortable bed. He knew he was fooling himself if he thought he'd be fine by morning. If that was true, the potions should have already fixed everything. As it was, he probably wouldn't be completely fixed up until he saw a healer, or rested for a couple of weeks. It disturbed him how much energy it had taken to get from the living room into the bedroom. He didn't even change out of his clothes or pull back the blankets before he fell asleep.
~~~
The familiar room with its black robed occupants appeared before his eyes. A dull throbbing in his scar made itself known despite the pain potion he'd taken earlier.
"The arrangements have been made," he hissed. "By the fifth day of the new year, the insolent boy will be mine and Hogwarts will fall without him. It is time to celebrate, my friends. I have brought treats for the holiday. Enjoy," he said with an inhuman laughter tumbling out of his mouth.
A door to his left opened and two muggles were pushed through, a young boy and girl. They looked to be siblings in their early teens and immensely frightened. For some reason this pleased Harry, and he threw a curse at the girl. She shrieked in pain and horror as numerous small cuts appeared all over her body. Her brother tried to go to her but was held back by an invisible force.
"Have fun tonight, my faithful followers. Imagine what a treat it will be to have the Boy-Who-Lived here soon. Severus, if you please."
A tall man walked over and knelt in front of him as the others started having their 'fun' with the muggles.
"Yes, my lord?"
"Severus, I would like you to join in the festivities tonight. You often let yourself get lost in your work and are denied the pleasures I allow."
"Thank you, my lord. I only wish to serve you and think of my own pleasure as inconsequential to our goals. If it is your wish, I will give in this night and take advantage of your generosity," replied the silky voice.
"It is my wish, Severusss. When you are through, come back," he commanded.
"Of course, my lord." The man named Severus glided over to the gathering crowd, many of whom parted for him.
Harry was pleased. His servant was excellent for obtaining difficult potions, but his loyalty was still an issue. If he had refused Harry's offer, he would have joined the 'treats'.
Harry watched as Severus circled the two youths, reveling in their fear without doing anything.
"Choose," Severus commanded to the muggles.
They looked at him blankly. He held up his wand and a vial. Harry didn't know what the vial was, but trusted it was something adequately nasty.
The boy pointed at the wand, obviously trying to save his sister some pain. 'Foolish muggle,' Harry thought. 'Likely whatever potion that is will cause more than enough pain compared with a wand.'
Severus shook his head with a smirk and flicked his wand at the girl. She was slammed into the floor and held there by a strong presence on her chest making it hard to breathe. The potion was shoved down the boy's throat. After a few seconds he was screaming louder than the girl had under one of the other's Cruciatus curses. Loyal or not, Severus's tortures were usually more interesting than the rest. Most Death Eaters put no thought into it and went for the painful curse. A select few, Severus included, like variation. Harry felt a smile form on his face. He enjoyed a variety show as much as the next Dark Lord.
Severus approached. "My lord, you wished to see me again?"
"Yes, Severus. Thank you for breaking up the mundane curses. Wasn't it delicious when you circled the carrion without doing anything to earn their fear? Yet, you could taste the terror emanating from them." Harry stopped to drink in the feeling again. After a few moments he spoke again. "I expect you to inform me of any leads the old fool has at once. Good night, Severus."
"And you, my lord," Severus started to rise.
"One moment, Severus. I feel like celebrating again, but I would like a fresh participant. You will do nicely. Crucio!"
~~~
Harry woke with a start and his scar a fiery gaping wound, or so it felt. Lifting a hand to his head, he found it normal to the touch if a bit hot. He was shaking all over and felt like he was going to be sick. Check that, he was sick. He quickly cleaned up the mess with his wand as he started to catch his breath.
He'd seen what was happening to those muggles. Not just what Severus did, but the others also, as they were in the background the whole time. Those were young kids! No more than thirteen he guessed. There was no reason for them to be tortured like that, or anyone for that matter.
The one important thing he'd gotten from the dream was that the attack would be on, or before, January fifth. He needed to get to England soon. Tomorrow was Christmas, so he had some time still, but not much considering he still needed to find where exactly he needed to go in Surrey.
It was only one in the morning. Finding his potion pouch next to the bed, he dug around for a dreamless sleep draught. He drank it and quickly fell asleep. In his fading mind remained one word, 'Hogwarts.' What did it mean?
_-^-_-^-_-^-_-^-_-^-_-^-_-^-_-^-_-^-_-^-_-^-_-^-_
Professor Dumbledore was up early the morning of Christmas Day. He wasn't opening gifts, or even wrapping any. Instead, he was scribbling furiously on several pieces of parchment. Once he was done, he attached the letters to each of a dozen owls and sent them out of the window.
He decided to go to the infirmary and check on Remus Lupin. The previous night had been the full moon, and he'd injured himself quite badly. It was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix, of course, but it still worried the aged headmaster. It pained him to see any of his children hurt, especially those to which it happened often.
The ex-defense professor was sleeping comfortably in a bed in the corner. There was a bottle he recognized as dreamless sleep potion on the bedside table. Dumbledore sat on a chair between the bed and the window, alternately looking at the younger man and the snowy grounds. He was lost in thought, trying to figure out how to determine his young Gryffindor's location.
He noticed a dark-clad figure emerge from the forest and stumble toward the castle doors. He rushed out of the Hospital Wing and through the doors into freshly fallen snow, and approached the freshly fallen potions professor.
"Severus?" he asked gently.
"Jan – airy – fffth," he mumbled.
"Come, Severus, and get inside. We'll fix you up and you can tell me then. I can't understand you right now." He was worried, but he didn't seem to do anything else these days. He rarely saw the proud man in this state and it pulled at his soul a little more each time. He knew that he had put the man in this condition. Maybe not directly, but if Severus wasn't working for him, he certainly wouldn't be going to torture sessions with Voldemort.
He managed to lead the disoriented Snape to the hospital wing and into a bed. It was nice not to have to fight with him, but it only served to increase his uneasiness.
He stuck his head in the nurse's door. "Poppy, Severus has just returned and needs attention." She nodded sharply and headed out to the ward.
Snape was unconscious and she didn't bother waking him until she was done with her healing. Dumbledore couldn't argue that the man was a very difficult patient. He just watched, slightly amused when he knew the man was in no serious danger, because Snape acted like such a petulant child when it came to relying on other people for anything.
When his eyes finally opened, Snape wasted no time in giving his report. "He has set a deadline for the attack. It will be on or before January fifth. I don't know if there is any significance to the date or if it was just an arbitrary choice. He also brought in what he called holiday treats for us. They were a young brother and sister, muggles by their reactions. He – I," for the first time, Snape faltered in his report and gulped down a drink of water from the glass offered. "He requested that I participate. I did as expected. He again ordered me to tell him anything you learn concerning Potter."
Dumbledore sighed. For once they weren't intentionally withholding information from Voldemort; they simply didn't know where Harry was.
"Did he punish you for lack of information again?" Dumbledore asked regretfully.
Snape's lip curled. "I told you before, Albus. He needs no reason. Tonight, more accurately this morning, he wanted to celebrate some more. The muggles were about wasted by that time from his point of view. He wanted someone unharmed, and I was the lucky one. He decided to put a little variation in the routine tonight. I believe he gets bored using the Cruciatus so often, even though it is the most effective."
Dumbledore nodded and dropped the subject. Snape didn't like to talk about it anymore than he liked hearing about the torture.
After doing all he could (what Snape would let him), Dumbledore left to get some more rest. There was little he could do until the owls returned. When he was a little more rested, he would continue planning the ambush on Privet Drive.
A/N: Please leave some feedback. This chapter was a little iffy for me. I liked some parts, and some just didn't want to come out right, so I got frustrated and just stopped rewriting.