First Steps

by: Whomping Willow

Disclaimer: You should know by now, they are not mine.

***

Chapter four: Harry Hunting ~


Hedwig's arrival had brought a flurry of activity to the previously sullen room. Whatever remained of this summer's correspondence was laid in a small pile on the table for comparison. They wanted to know if there were anymore clues as to when the new letter was sent. If there was any unusual content, it could help. Unfortunately not everyone saved the short notes of reassurance Harry had sent. The big question was, had Harry ever signed "I'm looking forward to seeing you all really soon," before? Could this be a clue that he was already on his way? All of the Weasleys were eager to help and the twins kept coming up with ridiculous schemes to find Harry, mostly involving their products. Hermione wanted to have the mud from the parchment examined, to see if they could pinpoint its origins, but they would need Snape for that and he still hadn't returned.

***

Pounding, he could hear pounding. Pulse pounding in his ears so loud he was sure someone else would hear. Harry's heart was hammering hard against his ribs in protest and his lungs burned in agreement. There had been no Harry-Hunting this summer and his body was protesting the new advanced version of the game . . .

Death Eaters had spelled open the front door and strolled in, like they were welcome guests, not the murdering lackeys of Voldemort they are. He knew the moment Lord Voldemort himself made his appearance, his scar lighting up in a blaze of pain.

"How did they find me?" Harry asked himself silently. Dumbledore had told him he would be safe as long as he could call Privet Drive home. It seems he was wrong. Appropriately enough, Harry had been crouched in his first home, the cupboard under the stairs, while he listened to the unwelcome guests search the house for him.

Hidden under the invisibility cloak, he had waited patiently for a chance to sneak out. Harry listened carefully to their movements while trying to plan where to go if or when he managed to escape. His situation had seemed hopeless considering there were at least two Death Eaters searching the first floor and they never went far enough from the cupboard for him to slip past and out the door. Then he heard a hand rest on the doorknob to his hiding place, and his breath caught in his throat. He knew that all the Death Eaters would come down to witness the destruction of his trunk . . . then he would be surrounded, but a sudden shout from upstairs brought them all running. Feet pounded heavily up the stairs above his head. He hadn't wasted the opportunity and fled the cupboard then out the front door wrapped in his cloak with his broom clenched desperately in his fist.

In his haste Harry hadn't been quiet enough. One of the Death Eaters had heard the front door and alerted the others. They chased him as best as they could, catching occasional glimpses of him when his cloak flapped behind exposing his legs. He had run as long as his lungs would allow, zigzagging his way around Little Whinging, checking his pocket occasionally to be sure he hadn't lost his wand while trying to shake them off his tail. He worked hardest at hiding his broom. If they thought he was on foot it might limit their search area, but at the moment he was on foot. He would surely risk expulsion if he was spotted by Muggles in broad daylight on a flying broom. He knew, no matter how well he tried to wrap himself up in his father's cloak, he wouldn't be lucky enough to go unnoticed. He would have to wait till night fall and stay hidden till then.

The gentle rain falling in the trees was soothing Harry's panic numbed mind. Unfortunately for him, the adrenalin that had been surging through his body began to recede. He had been alternately running and hiding for several hours and it left his body trembling and his mind whirling with new thoughts. For the first time since the Death Eaters breached the wards at the Dursleys' home, Harry had a moment to wonder how. Dumbledore had told him they were based on blood and some sort of family bond. Did that mean the Death Eaters had killed the Dursleys? Had their deaths broken down the wards? Was he responsible for the death, of yet three more . . . just like his parents, Cedric, and Sirius?

He had to stop thinking like that and think of the positives . . . he had his wand, his broom, and his invisibility cloak. It was a start. It seemed the Muggles had sense enough to stay in out of the rain. If Voldemort did show up, he wouldn't be risking more innocent lives.

Harry tried to think of where to go next. Soaking wet and cold, in a thin T-shirt and threadbare oversized trousers, it was clear he wasn't prepared for a day out in the rain. He hadn't wanted to risk being discovered, making a sound while searching through his trunk for his money bag, so he left it along with any chance of catching the Knight Bus. He thought about backtracking to Mrs. Figg's, but being a squib, she would be little help if he was followed there. The Burrow was out of the question as well. Ron's letters had stated that the Weasleys had moved to Grimmauld Place for the summer. He supposed he could fly to Order Headquarters, but what if this was a trap – he did get away without ever being struck by a single curse. Was he just lucky or was it all a plan to get Harry to lead Voldemort to the Order of the Phoenix? He couldn't risk it. Perhaps if he could make it to the Leaky Cauldron . . . Tom might put him up again, like in the summer before his third year, at least till he could get word to the Order. Now that he had a plan, all he had left to do was to wait until nightfall.

***

Although Molly fixed dinner, few were inclined to eat. The letters still littered the kitchen table now in stacks showing their order of significance. They seemed to be of almost no help at all, but they were waiting for Dumbledore to go over them himself for a final verdict.

If there was any chance that Harry was still alive and in danger, they needed to be there ready to help. They didn't want to see a repeat of last summer, although perhaps Fudge might be a bit more understanding of underage magic use in this case.

Dumbledore arranged a rotating schedule to keep a wizard with Mrs. Figg at all times and sent Bill and Charlie Weasley home to the Burrow in case Harry somehow turned up there. The Leaky Cauldron was also a likely spot, being where Harry fled to in his third year, so Mundungus Fletcher was sent to keep an eye on the comings and goings there. He wanted to ensure it was as easy as possible for Harry to obtain help, wherever he may go.

The protective charms around Harry were both a blessing and a curse. Much like the Dursleys' home, Harry himself was protected by spells carefully woven on top of the shield of his mother's sacrifice. Although they prevented Voldemort and his minions from seeking Harry out with a simple Point-me, they also prevented Dumbledore and the Order from coming to his aid in the same manner. The charms were too well planned, too intricately woven, they would just have to wait and hope for the best.

***

Harry stood pacing back and forth in front of a park bench somewhere in Little Whinging. He had sat there for a long while remaining quiet in case there were Death Eaters searching the area for him, but now nervous energy was overwhelming him. He had to move. His scar had started burning and he didn't feel safe staying put any longer. He decided it couldn't hurt to get a head start to the Leaky Cauldron on foot.

Leaving the deserted park behind filled him with a sense of great relief. Sitting alone looking upon empty swings had inevitably led his thoughts to his friends. He missed them and was worried about them even though he knew they were far safer than he was at the moment. That didn't stop him from worrying though. The Daily Prophet was sure to write about the attack, as soon as they found out about it. He hoped he could get word to them before then so they wouldn't be concerned, but Hedwig had been sent to the Order with a note that morning and he wouldn't expect her back anytime soon. As much as he could use Hedwig right now, he was far happier knowing she was safe.

He considered the note for a moment. He had implied that everything was fine so they wouldn't worry. Harry wanted to reassure Remus that he was coping with his godfather's death regardless of his being stuck with the Dursleys, but now he wished he had waited. If the note hadn't been sent, he could've expected the Headmaster to send someone to check on him soon. If that were the case, he could double back to Privet Drive and hide till they arrived, but as it was now he had no way of knowing how long it would be till someone was on their way. It would be best not to risk hiding where the Death Eaters might still be looking. That made the Leaky Cauldron his best option.

He thought of the hot tea and biscuits that would be waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron and smiled. If all went as planned he would soon be resting safely . . . warm, dry and full of hot tea and biscuits. After that he could worry about contacting the Order.

***

In robes soiled with blood and dirt, Severus Snape entered the kitchen. He smelled like stale vomit and looked little better. His nose appeared to be broken and he was having difficulty standing. Dumbledore was quickly at his side wrapping an arm around his waist to help him to a chair. Once seated, he waved the Headmaster off and began searching his robe's pockets for the necessary potions. He tried to speak, but no words would come.

Molly Weasley poured a hot cup of tea, setting it on the table in front of him then joined her family waiting anxiously with the others for his report of the day's events. Despite the condition of his robes and pained expression all present knew it looked like the news would be good. Perhaps it would be enough to give them a place to start or somewhere to look. Sitting around was making them all edgy and they needed something to do with that energy.

Snape's hands shook terribly as he struggled to down the pain potions. He had obviously spent time under the Cruciatus Curse and was suffering from its lingering effect.

Anyone else might have felt self-conscious with a room full of people staring with such intensity, but he understood the reason why he held their attention in a way no Potions class ever could. He still needed a few moments to regain his voice and the strain of waiting was shown on many faces.

Among the group seated around the table were Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, Harry's best friends. Ron was glaring at his hated Potions Professor and getting more anxious every minute. Hermione gently took Ron's hand in hers hoping to calm him and gaining a moment of support for herself. Remus Lupin saw the gesture and smiled briefly. From where he stood he could feel the tension radiating off of them. He rested a hand on their shoulders hoping to comfort the worried children further. Hermione glanced over her shoulder and gave a tight smile at the kind gesture, while Ron nodded solemnly. The silence was interrupted abruptly.

"Damn it Snape, you going to make us wait all day?!" Spat a very impatient Mad-eye Moody.

Dumbledore admonished him with a look. "Please everyone, just give him a moment," he said, but when he looked back to the Potions Master his blue eyes were pleading behind half-moon spectacles. "Severus, is he alive?" He inquired gently, knowing it was the question on everyone's lips.

To everyone's relief Snape nodded confirming their hopes. His expression was far from optimistic, but it still lit hope in the eyes of everyone around the room.

"Does Voldemort have him?" Dumbledore asked again holding back the flood of questions with a glance around the room.

Snape swallowed thickly, shook his head and finally spoke. "I don't know where he is hiding Albus, but neither does the Dark Lord. He must have known somehow . . ." He paused a moment, coughing painfully and took a sip of the tea. "I was there at the time of the attack. Potter was already hidden when we entered the house. He slipped out when we were distracted upstairs . . ."

The room filled with proclamations of relief and joy. Molly's happy tear-filled sobs were heard easily above everyone else.

Snape knew it was only a short reprieve from the questioning. After another sip of tea he continued his explanation, with a touch less contempt in his voice than he usually used when discussing Harry Potter. "Potter gave quite a chase from what I hear. Wrapped in his father's invisibility cloak there was little chance they would catch him once he left the house, although quite a few still tried. The Dark Lord was most displeased at Potter's escape." He grimaced slightly at the memory of the Dark Lords anger before continuing. "He took great care in destroying the boy's trunk before starting on the rest of the house."

"Thank you Severus. I'll be waiting for a detailed account after you've had a chance to rest. Everyone, it looks like there is a busy night ahead. We have an invisible boy to look for."

"There is one more thing, Albus," choked Snape. "It appears the Dark Lord is mobilizing dementors to aid him in the search . . ."

"Let's hope Mr. Potter can find his way home to us before that becomes an issue." Hermione and Ron appeared about to speak, but the Headmaster was one step ahead of them. "The children will wait here. We need someone to coordinate the search efforts . . ."

"Professor," Hermione interrupted. "Wouldn't it be better if we searched for Harry as well? We could fly overhead on brooms . . . perhaps under a Disillusionment Charm. The more eyes the better?" Even she knew she was grasping at straws, but it didn't keep Ron and Ginny from nodding along enthusiastically.

"Yes, the more eyes the better," Sneered Snape. ". . . Especially when looking for an invisible boy."

Hermione's cheeks flushed scarlet, while Ron murmured something decidedly unflattering about Snape.

"Now is not the time for that Severus," Dumbledore scolded. "I'm sorry children, but there may be dementors involved. If that is not reason enough for you, it is still the summer holidays and if you were to perform magic during the search or rescue even to protect yourself, it could mean your expulsion . . . And that is a risk I'm not willing to take. End of discussion."

The teens looked dejected, but nodded their understanding. It was getting late and would be dark soon and they each thought silently, "Where are you Harry?"

After a few furtive glances around the table, Ron summoned the other teens to follow him out of the room. He wanted to go somewhere that they could talk without the risk of being overheard by the adults. They crept quietly up the stairs past the portrait of Sirius' mum and into his room. Once they were all safely locked inside Ron addressed the group. "What if Snape is lying and You-Know-Who really does have Harry? He could be trying to distract the Order to prevent them from rescuing him."

"Ron, Professor Dumbledore trusts Professor Snape. I think we should have confidence in his opinion." Hermione felt worn-out. She was not ready to fight about Snape when they should be focused on Harry.

"I can't help it 'Mione. I don't trust the greasy git. There's something he's not telling us."

"As much as I hate to defend Snape, I think Hermione has got a point. Did you get a look at him? Does he look like he spent time at a victory party with You-Know-Who?"

"Whose side are you on Fred?" Ron asked, ears turning pink.

"Ron isn't it obvious Snape was punished . . . most likely for Harry's escape. He may have even helped him," admonished Hermione.

"I hope you're right 'Mione, for Harry's sake."

"So do I . . ." she agreed. "Now let's go back down and find out if there is anything we can do to help."

***

Ginny checked on the owls. She gave them all food and fresh water then sat on the floor in a corner stroking Hedwig. She murmured reassuring words promising that Harry would be safe soon, hoping it was true.

***



tbc . . .

~ Whomping Willow ~