Disclaimer: I own nothing; if I did, I would be rich and famous and wouldn't be writing fan fiction.
CHAPTER FIVE: RUNAWAY
He walked stiffly along, eyeing the people bustling about him warily, their seeming unawareness of his presence making him somewhat apprehensive though he was glad all the same that they hadn't come over to start fussing over him. He was led through the pristinely white hallways; the sterile cleanness of the whole place an odd contrast to his environment of the past couple months.
They stopped in front of an elevator, waiting for a handful of people to step out before boarding and waiting with tense silence until the elevator reached the fourth floor, alerting them of this fact with a soft ding. They walked the short distance to the receptionist's desk and Harry stood off to one side, ministry workers guarding him all the while, and cautiously took in his surroundings.
It was obvious that the place was decorated to give one a sense of peace and comfort. A serene, calming blue blanketed just about everything in sight; the color, oddly enough, made him want to retch. There were cushioned chairs arranged to form a small waiting area off to one side; a couple of small end tables were interspersed amidst the seats, well worn magazines and books haphazardly placed upon them.
He scanned them quickly, his eyes coming to rest on a copy of the Daily Prophet. The date atop the page read September 25th, but it looked to be at least a couple of weeks old. He read the headline, "Breach in Ministry Security Leaves Officials Skeptical;" he wondered what that was all about, but seeing as he couldn't make out any of the rest of the article from this distance he filed the information away before letting his eyes drift over to where Mr. Weasley was heatedly conversing with the receptionist, the name tag on her desk identifying her as Ms. Rose. He gazed at them with disinterest, vaguely wondering what could have gotten Mr. Weasley so worked up before moving on to look down the hallway to his right and what he assumed to be the psychiatric ward.
He watched as nurses walked purposefully about striding in and out of rooms and checking up on various patients. Some of the attendants could be seen walking patients down the hall, talking cheerfully to them as they strolled along, fake smiles plastered onto their stiff faces. Their uniforms were as white and sterile as the building itself, stiffly starched and ironed to perfection. How do they stay so immaculately clean working in a hospital surrounding by sick people? Hmm...must be magic. Harry was vaguely amused by this thought, a small smirk slowly making its way onto his face, but nothing that would be noticed by anyone who might be looking at him.
Just as he was about to turn his attention back from his assessment of the ward and to Mr. Weasley's argument, he was startled by a flurry of nurses rushing towards room 413, their cheerful demeanor all but forgotten in their hurry. He was beginning to wonder what exactly was going on, his curiosity peaked, when a loud wail broke out from the room echoing down the hallway and sending a shiver down his spine as it reminded him of his stay in Azkaban.
Everything stopped as the inhumane shriek filled every nook and cranny of the ward with its heartbreaking sound, it was as if time had been put on hold, the cry the only thing that continued as it reverberated off the walls. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. There was a hushed, shocked silence, then a collective shuddery breath before motion resumed, everything speeding up again until a normal pace had once again commenced.
The nurses exited the room looking significantly more haggard and worn than they had when they had gone in. They talked in low, troubled voices about the occurrence as they made their way back to their stations. Harry couldn't pick up much from where he was standing, but from the few bits and pieces of information he picked up from his eavesdropping; this wasn't an uncommon occurrence.
It was at about this point that Mr. Weasley finished with his discussion and made his way back to the little group, all the while muttering about incompetent administration under his breath. He stopped in front of them, a small, annoyed frown creasing his face, and spoke in a frustrated clipped voice, "We're taking him to Hogwarts." Though Harry's face remained impassive at this troubling news, his mind began to race, all the horrible memories and faces that he wished not to recall plaguing his conscience.
The ministry officials, too, seemed troubled by this announcement, sending apprehensive glances one another's way. One of them took on the appearance that they were going to speak, ask a question most likely, before backing down after taking a good look at Mr. Weasley's expression. The other one simply rolled his eyes before daring to ask, "Sir, if you wouldn't mind explaining the situation to us?"
Mr. Weasley turned to him, glaring, looking very much as if he did mind, but began to explain regardless of that fact after a long, exasperated sigh. "Well, Jenkins, it appears that Saint Mungoo's has screwed up once again. As you recall we made arrangements with Mr. Morningside that if the situation arose, then Potter would be transferred here. He said he would make all the necessary arrangements, but somehow the paper work got messed up. Anyways, they won't take him. You know as well as I do that we can't take him to the ministry holding cells, too many people of questionable alliances there, so it would appear that Hogwarts is the only option left," he ended with a resigned note, his gaze falling upon Harry and truly taking him in for the first time since his release from Azkaban. The boy really looked terrible; it was hard to see him like this, but...well, there was nothing for it. After receiving a nod of acknowledgement from the two underlings he'd brought along, he stalked to the elevator and pressed the down button.
The lights atop the elevator signaling each floor the elevator passed lit up from the L for lobby, all the way until it finally got to 4, and the doors opened with a swoosh. The inside was empty this time, so all four of them piled in, as Mr. Weasley pushed the large round L button, and the elevator was soon descending towards the lobby. It was odd how alike this elevator, and hospital in general, was to its muggle alternative, yet oddly comforting in a familiar sort of way.
The elevator soon deposited them on the first floor and they made their way out of it and under an archway that read "Portkey Exit." They now stood in a well-sized room that's purpose, apparently, was to allow one to exit the building by use of a portkey. If Harry had thought the journey here was bad, it was nothing compared to what was in store.
He was going back to Hogwarts, the castle he had once regarded as home sweet home, but now stood for everything and everyone that had rejected and betrayed him. The thought of going back there made his muscles tense and a knot was quickly forming in his stomach. But, it would appear he had no choice but to go back there, he certainly couldn't run away at the moment, and so he hoped, at least, that he wouldn't run into anyone else that he knew, or used to know; seeing Mr. Weasley again was bad enough. He would probably be spending the whole time he was there locked up in a dungeon cell, anyways, if Mr. Weasley's earlier explanation was anything to go by. And just when he had thought they might have actually come to believe in his innocence. Oh well...he knew he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up; it had been too good to be true anyways.
Harry turned his attention back to Mr. Weasley as he drew another portkey from his cloak, this time it was a chocolate frog card featuring Albus Dumbledor's smiling face, and Harry glared at it though he knew that it was only a picture. A quick spell was muttered to activate the portkey, and Mr. Weasley held it out so that all of them could grasp it. Harry refused to grasp it of his own free will; they thought he was crazy anyways, so it's not like they would get mad at him for his small defiance. Jenkins deftly snatched his left hand and placed it on a corner of the card. Not thirty seconds letter there was a great jerk as if a giant hook was attached to the navel of all of the individuals present and then, they were off.
Author's Note: Once again, thank you sooooo much for all the lovely reviews! I appreciate your feedback. Well, Harry is now on his way to Hogwarts where there WILL be a confrontation scene (Gosh, I keep promising that, but it never seems to happen). I have already written part of a scene, as I have said, where Harry chews everybody out and I know you're all looking forward to it (I know I am too!) and I thought I would get to put it in this chapter, but writing about the journey to Saint Mungoos took up a lot more space than I thought it would. I know there are still a whole lot of questions left unanswered, and I'll be getting to those too. I have everything concerning why Harry went to Azkaban all worked out in my mind, but I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to integrate it into the story yet. I've been busy with school lately and with trying to get my web page up and running which, by the way, you should all come and visit once I do, so I don't know how much spare time I'll have in the near future. Hopefully I'll have a chance to write chapter six sometimes soon (summer break is coming up in just a couple weeks) but, in the mean time, I hope you enjoy chapter five!