It All Comes Tumbling Down Chapter 10: Easier to Run, a harry potter fanfic

Summary: Harry Potter-the perfect little savior...the convenient scapegoat whenever the wizarding world has a problem, or needs somebody to blame. They've condemned him...to Azkaban. It's a hard place to survive, even harder still to come out as the same, naïve person that went in.

Disclaimer: I own nothing; if I did, I would be rich and famous and wouldn't be writing fan fiction.

CHAPTER TEN: EASIER TO RUN

He awoke with the sun the next morning, its slanted golden rays shining onto his pale face. Pale from all the time spent locked up tight, where the sun could never reach (they wouldn't want it to bring hopng himself get so worked up over what had turned out to be nothing.

But what if the thestral really had left me? He questioned himself, allowing himself to realize, perhaps for the first time, how susceptible he was to being caught. And it didn't matter who caught him; the muggle authorities, ministry officials, Voldemort...once he was found, they would all know. No matter what, he can't allow himself to get caught by anyone.

And that meant that he couldn't allow himself to stay in any one place too long. Although he was fairly certain that no one had seen him here, so far; it was time to move. Besides,

And that meant that he couldn't allow himself to stay in any one place too long. Although he was fairly certain that no one had seen him here, so far; it was time to move. Besides, he hadn't had anything to eat or drink in quite some time; he would need to remedy that as soon as possible.

"Come here," he called softly to the thestral, eager to get a move on it. As the black, winged creature trotted swiftly up to him, Harry felt more affection and trust for it than he had felt for anything in a long while. Deciding that the only one to stay loyal to him when he needed it the most deserved, at least, a name, Harry quickly raked his brain for one that would be fitting.

At first he was thinking something along the lines of Shadow or Midnight, maybe obsidian, for the thestrals dark, black colouring, but it didn't seem personal enough and that just didn't seem right. This thestral was the only one in the world who Harry felt really understood him now. He knew it didn't really make any sense, but he could tell that the creature was more intelligent than one might assume; he really did understand. Or maybe I'm just loosing my mind. Either way, the thestral was special to Harry, important.

Arcane. That was what he would name the thestral. It came to him almost out of nowhere. It seemed a fitting name, though, and it was as if the horse had somehow planted it in his mind. Odd—but that wasn't really important right now. Let's see, arcane...it means known by few, understood by few, something like that. Yes...it was perfect. He whispered the name he had chosen for the thestral quietly, over and over again, as he petted the oddly textured skin on its muzzle. Arcane nuzzled against his hand, signalling his approval of the name (and the petting.)

Speaking of names, the name Harry Potter certainly wouldn't be useful anymore. If he were to meet anyone in the near future, he would need to come up with an alias of some sort...and find some new clothes, get washed up, a haircut, etc. He knew enough French to get by here...at least he hoped so.

Hmm...a name...what could he call himself? It had to have meaning, just as Arcane did, but how would he come up with the name? Maybe from history or Latin or...something. It had to be dark, to suit him now. Let's see...what was the name of that spell that would transform an object into a black raven? Coreck—no, Crobet—no, Corbett...yes, that was it. Black raven...it would certainly do nicely. And Corbett was Latin, so the French wouldn't think it too weird, would they?

So what if they do? It's not like I'm going to be talking to many people anyway. And for a last name...Moore; I've always liked that name, plus it's pretty common. All right, now for a cover story. I could be an orphan—that much is true—who ran away from his horrible foster parents that abused and neglected him (sounds like the Dursleys.) Hell, I don't even have to lie really.

Of course, names of people and places will have to be changed and I won't be able to answer every question someone might ask. But how to avoid answering without them getting suspicious? I could always tell them that 'I don't want to talk about it, the memories are just too painful.' Ha! People are saps when it comes to sentimental bullshit; it'll work for sure.

I guess I'd better get out of here now, Harry, or rather Corbett as he would be known from now on (at least to the rest of the world), decided with a sigh. First things first; he needed food, water, and some new clothes (for wizard's robes would draw far more attention to him than he would like.)

"Okay, Arcane, you're going to need to take me to a nearby city. I don't want it to be so big that someone could possibly recognize me, but it can't be too small, I don't want to be remembered. And we wouldn't wanted to be spotted flying out in broad daylight; you can make me invisible too when you fly, can't you?" Harry spoke softly to the thestral, peering imploringly at it as if searching for the answer to his question. When the Arcane lifted his head proudly and shifted his wings in what Harry supposed to be indignation, he concluded that the horse was insulted that he had even had to ask. "Good," Harry responded, rubbing the thestral's neck fondly. "And I didn't mean to insult you, you know," he added as an afterthought, giving the creature a mock glare.

Arcane merely gave a soft snort, as if to say that he wasn't surprised that Harry hadn't meant any offence and that he should have assumed Harry would be so foolish as to ask such a question. Harry merely rolled his eyes at the thestral, otherwise ignoring the gesture, and moved to Arcane's left side, where he could easily mount. Arcane unfolded his wing and placed it conveniently low enough that Harry could step on it and therefore mount easier, almost as an apology for his teasing of just a moment ago.

Harry gratefully accepted the offer, mounting with relative ease, compared to the other times he had ridden a thestral, and was soon situated comfortable atop his new companion. He had a hold of the mane, the course hairs clasped firmly between his fingers, and his legs lay comfortably up near the thestral's shoulders, where they were out of the way of the massive wings. Giving a small nudge with the heels of his feet, barely hard enough for Arcane to feel, he signalled that he was ready for take off.

Once again he felt the familiar sensation of air swirling around him, disturbed by beating wings, and then the imminent leap into the sky, rising up into the air as the wings furiously pumped to keep both him and Arcane afloat. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time, everything he had come to associate with riding atop a thestral.

They rose higher and higher until they were soaring amidst the clouds. As they rose, Harry felt his spirits rise as well; it was so hard to think of all of the people out to get him when the world looked like a city of ants spread beneath him, the people occupying it only tiny dots in a sea of shifting scenery. It was pleasant; unlike the time he had flown the Ford Angelia with Ron (Why did that memory have to surface now?), for the wind blowing in his face offset the heat of the sun blaring down on him from above.

The ride was over all too soon and Harry was surprised that he felt that way; he had never particularly liked riding a thestral before now. Arcane had apparently, with what Harry could only assume was excellent eyesight, seen a suitable city down bellow.

They descended swiftly and Harry was almost afraid that they would crash, but at the last minute, Arcane pulled up, and gently landed with a soft thud on the grassy outskirts of the town. Harry dismounted carefully, hesitantly ordering Arcane to stay put for the time being.

He took in the sight of the town for a moment; the four-lane highway leading up to it, the many tall buildings that towered above the rest of the city some way off, and the growing suburbs that surrounded the city center; it would do. He strode swiftly up to the nearby houses, ones that were quite some distance out from the rest of town and hurridly surveyed the area before deciding to enter a blue house with white trim that was the closest to him; from the looks of it, no one was home.

It was a nice house, medium in size, nothing extraordinary, but good enough for any middle class family. There was a healthy, green lawn and a few vibrant flowers in the front, with a tree placed here and there among them. There was no garage, but a slanted, concrete driveway big enough for two cars lay positioned in front of the house; no cars were present at the time, though.

Making his way up the flower-lined path that led up to the front door, Harry hastily took one more look around him to make sure no one was watching, wouldn't want any nosy neighbours (like his Aunt Petunia had been) to see him break into the house (if it came to that.) Determining that the coast was clear, he proceeded to ring the doorbell.

After three rings and no answer, he assumed that no one was home. He first tried the doorknob, but it was locked. Walking around the house, he checked every window to see if any had been left ajar, or at the very least unlocked.

It was, naturally, the last window that he tried that happened to slip open at his touch. There were no screens (which made breaking in a great deal easier), so he was able to crawl inside once he had slid the glass over far enough so that he would be able to do so. Slipping into the house and carefully closing the window behind him, he set out first to eat and drink something; showering and changing clothes could wait until later.

Author's Notes: There! Another chapter finished and only four days after I posted the last one! I must say, I'm rather proud of myself. Well, I hope you like it. I'm glad that everyone enjoyed the last chapter! I don't know what exactly is going to happen to Harry, yet, but he'll be getting cleaned up pretty soon here and, who knows, he might even start a new life in France. I'm not really sure how long the thestral (a.k.a. Arcane) is going to be staying with Harry, but he's kind of become an important character, at least for the moment. I don't know what will happen with him (I really didn't know when I sat down to write the chapter that he was going to play such a big part in it), but if people like him, then he'll probably stick around. Thanks for reading; see you all next chapter!