Chapter eleven.
"You can stay here tonight, but tomorrow morning, you will have to leave London. It's simply not safe at the moment. Most people in the wizarding world love Harry, but there are those who are not happy about the defeat of Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore looked tired and grim.
"But why should we need to leave? I have school, and -- and, things! And Harry has school, too. How long will we have to be away?" Nell asked in alarm.
"I am afraid Harry's exact location will be common knowledge by the morning, and when that happens, he cannot be found here. I have found a safe place for you to stay. As to how long, I am afraid I cannot say. Perhaps it would be best if you managed to arrange your schedule as far in advance as is possible?" He managed to make the question sound both polite and inexorable.
Nell paced for a few minutes, deep in thought and muttering aloud. "I can finish my thesis anywhere, that doesn't matter. The psychology course has only one exam left -- I can take that early, I hope. The professor is sympathetic to family problems. My statistics class won't be quite that simple, but if I can return for the final exam, I can at least finish out my degree. Might not get Honours, but I can live without them."
Finally she looked up from her planning. "I'll get us packed. It's lucky I'm so close to finishing school. Harry, will you be a love and pack your photo album and Marauder book? You can be in charge of those. All right, Harry?"
Harry looked absolutely bewildered, glancing between Dumbledore and Nell. "But -- why do we have to go anywhere? What's going on?" he asked plaintively.
"Ah," said Nell. She looked at Dumbledore inquiringly, to see if he was going to jump in and explain, but he only inclined his head and raised his eyebrows. She sighed. He could really be the most infuriating man.
"Well, Harry, someone recognised you, and they wrote about it in the paper -- oh, it was probably that nosey parker of a dog-walker," Nell suddenly realised, "And now people are going to try to come and see you. So we have to leave before they can find us. Try to think of it as a big game of hide-and-go-seek."
Harry looked deeply skeptical, but he nodded and collected his precious books.
Nell turned to Dumbledore, who was twinkling again. Infuriating.
She swept off to begin packing and heard a POP behind her. She didn't turn around.
In the morning, Nell was trying to figure out how to pack her computer when Dumbledore showed up. Unseen from the doorway, Dumbledore obligingly cast a Lightening Charm, but Nell, not expecting it, was heaving the piece of equipment off the desk. Consequently, she smacked herself in the face with its top edge. Gritting her teeth, she moved the now manageable machine to a box.
She gingerly felt her face -- it was rather numb. Lovely, it would probably bruise quite spectacularly. She composed her expression before turning to look at Dumbledore. She nodded and blandly thanked him for his help.
"Are the two of you ready to leave, Miss Burton?" asked Dumbledore.
"Nearly so," said Nell. "Harry!"
He came into the room, lugging a stuffed rucksack. "Do we really have to go?" he asked, looking rather wistful.
"It's not for forever, Harry," promised Nell. She looked at Dumbledore in sudden alarm. "It isn't, is it?"
"Oh, my, by no means," said Dumbledore genially. "Why, I shouldn't be surprised if you return even sooner than you expect."
Nell nodded, suppressing her desire to try to tease out more details as a futile effort.
"Shall we?" asked Dumbledore.
Nell nodded and grabbed her own rucksack and the box with her thesis materials (including the dangerous computer). "Where are we going, and how are we to get there?"
"I've arranged a car for us, as you have no fireplace," announced Dumbldore. With this apparent non sequitur, he began walking toward the door of the flat.
Nell and Harry looked at each other and shrugged. What fireplaces had to do with travel was beyond them, but they were in no mood to ask more questions; Nell, for one, was afraid of more inexplicable and bizarre explanations. She suspected, though, that she rather ought to inure herself to the inexplicable and bizarre.
The two of them trailed behind Dumbledore to the street door. When the door opened, the three of them were met with a rush of flashbulbs and eager questions. The press had caught up with them, it seemed.
"Picture, Mr. Potter?"
"Look over here, Harry!"
"Why didn't you stay with your aunt, Harry?"
"What's your name, miss?"
"What's your relationship to Harry Potter?"
"Professor Dumbledore, do you have a comment on the situation?"
Ignoring the shouts, Nell and Dumbledore hustled Harry to the car, though he certainly did not sturggle. He seemed quite keen on putting distance between himself and the cameras and questions and attention.
The driver, a cheerful redheaded man, turned around in his seat. He restrained himself to a quick glance at Harry's forehead and a grin at Nell before addressing Dumbledore. "Flying or driving, sir?"
"Oh, I should think driving would be adequate for now," said Dumbledore tranquilly, as if this was a request he encountered from every hire car's driver. Nell supposed that that may not have been far from the truth, actually.
"Next stop, Ottery St. Catchpole," said the man cheerfully, turning back around in his seat and pulling the battered Ford Anglia away from the kerb.