Fighting The Fates
By Abay
-Chapter-Three
Running away
"Mundungas, you checked on the boy? Are you sure he's alright?" Arabella Figg asked anxiously.
"I told ya' Figgy, 'es alright. Saw 'em with me own eyes I did," Mundungus said with a black pipe in his mouth, green smoke protruding out of it.
"Oh for godness sake! I'm going to tell you this for the last time Mundungus, stop calling me Figgy! And put that out will you! I won't be able to breath in my own kitchen!" snapped Arabella moving towards the door.
"Righ', sorry. Ey! Where you going Figgy?" he called.
"To get some fresh air! And when I get back my kitchen better not smell of that- dear lord," she mumbled suddenly in the middle of her lecture.
Squinting her eyes, just to make sure she was not mistaken, she could see a skinny figure of a boy, walking briskly up the street, pulling a trunk behind him…Muggles didn't carry trunks like those…she had never seen one of the Muggles with a trunk, and she had lived here for fifteen years. It was a wizards' trunk, and the only wizard she knew in Little Whining was Harry Potter.
What was he doing! What was the boy thinking! Running away like that! He could get killed! Oh Merlin, oh dear Merlin! Harry was running away! She had to inform Dumbledore! And quickly!
Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Dumbledore won't like this.
"MUNDUNGUS! MUNDUNGUS!" hollered Arabella.
Slamming the door of Privet Drive, number four behind him, Harry grabbed his trunk and started to furiously make his way to…
He didn't even know where he was heading! He didn't know where he was going to go, but all he knew that he wouldn't set another foot in that house ever again! How dare he hit me! How dare he!
But just as he was about to think of insults about that bloody uncle of his, a voice called him from behind.
"Harry, Harry!"
Inwardly groaning, Harry turned to face Mrs. Figg; a woman who had an insane obsession for cats, and who was secretly assigned by Dumbledore to keep a watchful eye on him. But the old squib thought that Harry knew none of this, she thought that he was ignorant to all these facts, and Harry was intending to keep it that way.
"Mrs. Figg," he said with forced pleasantness in his voice. "What are you doing out at this time of night?"
"Me boy? What are you doing out here?" she asked peering at him, with her old batty eyes.
"Nothing!"
"Don't you lie to me boy!" she said sharply. "What are you doing with your things? Running away are you?"
Harry had just opened his mouth to retort with an answer when an owl swooped over him, dropping a large parchment envelope right to his feet. Harry stared at it, not really certain why, when he heard Mrs. Figg snap at him again.
"Well! Open it up boy! It's from the Ministry, read what it says!"
Harry looked up at her, not sure how to exactly react. He was supposed to be unaware to the fact that Mrs. Figg new the secrets of the magical world, and Harry, simply blinked at her, then opened his mouth to ask her a curious question which he knew the answer to, but she gave him no time to ask.
"Yes, yes, I know about the wizarding world, now will you open the envelope!" cried Mrs. Figg, wringing her hands nervously, and without waiting for him to do as asked, she bent over, snatched the envelope, and ripped it open reading the parchment, her eyes growing wider with each sentence she read, but Harry could only catch a few words, seeing that she was mumbling under her breath. "Dear Mr. Potter…breached decree …underage sorcery…result in expulsion…destroy wand…disciplinary hearing…Oh dear lord, oh dear lord!" she cried thrusting the letter in Harrys' hand. "Snap your wand! They're going to snap your wand!"
Harry didn't even read the letters contents, he knew what was written down in it, and he knew what was going to happen. He needn't worry. He was sure that he would be allowed to attend Hogwarts.
"Oh this is all Mundungas's fault! If he hadn't gone to buy those cauldrons! He could have fought those dementors instead of you! I told him not to go," she rambled. "Dumbledore is going to be furious. Now Harry, I want you to go back to your Uncles' house. Don't leave no matter what--"
"I'm not going back there!" Harry informed her heatedly, in a matter of fact way.
"But you have to go back there!" Mrs. Figg reasoned.
"No bloody way am I going back there!" he answered back stubbornly.
"Now these are direct orders from Dumbledore--"
"I'm not going back there alright! I don't want to ever see them again!" he said inflexibly, once again storming in the streets, and dragging his heavy trunk along with him, leaving a flustered batty old lady behind.
"Wait!" he heard her call, running after him. "Wait!"
But Harry ignored her and kept going.
He was not going back. No one could make him, not Dumbledore, and certainly not this loony old lady.
Mrs. Figg jumped in front of him, blocking his way, puffing. "Wait, wait," she breathed. "Come, come to my house. You can't wonder in the streets. Dumbledore would be livid at me if you did!"
Harry looked at her, and hesitantly nodded his head. He had no other choice. It was either starve to death in god knows where, or Mrs. Figgs' house. Although he had never enjoyed his stay with that loopy old lady, the latter choice seemed to be much more appealing.
"Alright," he said with a nod.
"Good," she sighed. "Follow me."
Mafalda Hopkirk was a fairy old, humble lady. She was branded for her traits of modesty, honesty, her uprightness and she was self-righteously proud of it. She had three well, married children, who had children of their own, and nothing could her make her happier than their contentment. Though Mafalda was not always at ease as she seemed to be, for their came a time in her life were she lived her darkest days. It was a time when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, had come to take over the world, and stole a part of heart, her sole, her husband; and this, this had been too much for her, too much to handle, so she rescind from her previous profession, which used to Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Many had objected to her resignation, but Mafalda had found it hard to carry on with the war that had come to pass ever so slowly, she found it hard to differ between who sot the good and who desired evil. She did not trust herself to carry out the right judgment, and she found that it would be well to step back, away from the troubles, and seek the peace of her mind.
Knock.
Knock.
''Come in!" Mafalda Hopkirk called from behind her desk, and when she saw a crooked nosed man, with a silver white beard peer from behind the door, she smiled."Ah Albus, do come in."
Albus Dumbledore smiled, and walked into the cozy little office with graceful movement. "I see the storms are over," he commented looking out of the fake window.
"Yes," she replied. "The Ministry has finally raised the pays of the Magical Maintenance Department, and about time to! Do have a seat will you Albus?"
Complying with the polite request, Albus took a seat in the red arm-chair.
"And to what, do I owe this delightful visit?"
Albus chuckled with the familiar twinkle in his eyes, "School business as the usual."
"Ah," she replied knowingly. "And is this about young Harry Potter?"
"Indeed it is."
"I'm afraid there is nothing about it you can do," Mafalda replied forlornly. "He has broken the laws, and the rules apply to everyone, the boy-who-live or not."
"And I respect those terms completely," Albus agreed, inclining his head. "But if you could please, look into Harry Potter's record, and look over the spell he is being charged of."
"Certainly," she responded courteously, and with a command from her wand, a file flew out from the drawers into her hand. "Let see…" she mumbled moving her finger down the piece of parchment. ''Ah, here it is: At twenty three minutes past nine, in a muggle in-habited area, and in the presence of three muggles, Harry Potter had cast a Patronus Charm."
"And what, may I ask, is a Patronus Charm used for Mafalda?"
Mafalda blinked at the question, and answered with no difficulty, a first year would know that answer. "Why, it can only be used to fight back dementors--"
"Exactly,'' said Albus, his eyes twinkling, as her face dawned into understanding. "There seems to be more to the case than it appears, does it not?"
''I-I don't know how I overlooked this before, Albus," she mumbled with embarrassment as she felt the heat rise up her cheeks.
"No need to fret, no damage is done, but I request of you to take back the decision of destroying Harrys' wand."
"But of-course! I'll see that a hearing is set up at once!"
Harry was sitting down in the dingy, cabbage smelling house of Arabella Figg, and he could not help but wrinkle his nose at the smell.
"Ooh, where in the world have I left it? Where…where…" Mrs. Figg mumbled under her breath as she passed in front of him every minute or so searching, for what ever she was hunting for.
"What is it Mrs. Figg? Maybe I can I help you find it?" Harry offered.
It was dead boring in here, and he might as well do something useful that would take up his time.
"Oh no, you sit down. You've had a rough night, now let me get you some chocolate. I daresay you would need some after your encounter with the dementor."
"What?" Harry said fearfully remembering her fowl chocolate bars she used to offer him when he came over. "No! I, err, I already had some at the Dursleys' before I left! Lots of it" he said dishonestly.
"Oh, you have. Good. Now you have a seat and lay down," she ordered, then turned her back to him, disappearing into yet another room, while mumbling under her breath. "Where is it? I swear I saw Mundungus used it yesterday…"
Harry threw himself on the worn out couch, and sank deeply into it.
Things were going to turn out boring in Mrs. Figgs' house. They always were, and he had a hard time imagining what he would be doing around here, although he'd probably be sent back to the Dursleys by Dumbledore, but he wouldn't have that! He would send a letter to Sirius if he did, maybe he'd talk Dumbledore out of it.
Harrys' head lolled to the side… his eye lids were felling heavy with sleep…. It was a long day…and the struggle with the dementors had really worn him out. He would just...sleep for a few minutes…Finally giving up to the drowsiness that was consuming him, Harrys' head fell to his chest, falling into a not so comfortable sleep.
…He was running in a bare hallway with no windows…His heart was hammering with excitement…the door was so close…so close…He held out a white hand to open the black door--
"Aha!"
Snorting out of his petty sleep, Harry jumped at that sudden loud noise, and watched blearily as Mrs. Figg walked out of the room with a triumphed look on her features.
Harry looked at her questioningly as she looked back at him, then her brow furrowed. "Well! What are you waiting for? Get in, get in!" she said gesturing for him to enter.
Walking passed the old woman, who was, in Harrys' opinion, getting battier every day; he entered the room to find a fire cracking merely.
"Here," Mrs. Figg said handing out a bag of floo powder to him. "You've used the floo before haven't you?"
"Yeah."
"Alright, then I want you to floo over to Grimmauld Place, you're just lucky that Mundungus left the fire before he disapparated."
"I'm not going to stay here?" Harry asked with relief. He didn't know if he could stand the cabbage smell for too long.
"You can't stay here! No, no, not here. Not enough protection, not safe at all. I'm sure Dumbledore will understand. Now go, it's not safe for you to be here for too long, not after what happened last June, no, defiantly not safe," she in a hurry thrusting the bag of floo in his hands.
Taking a handful of full of floo, Harry threw it into the fire, which turned into a blinding green, emerald, flame.
"Now say it loud and clear," Mrs. Figg instructed as he stepped into the fire. "Num-ber twelve, Grim-auld Place," she said slowly, emphasizing on each syllable, as though she was teaching a child how to speak properly.
Rolling his eyes, Harry cried. "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!"
Seated in the faintly lit, spacious room with rough stone walls supporting it, Sirius Black sat alone in the kitchens of Grimmauld Place, poking the pieces of his potatoes which he was intending to eat. But Sirius had lost his appetite as he felt himself flare up with anger.
Today, the Order of the Phoenix had held a meeting, in which Severus Snape had reported the devious plans of Lord Voldemort, and every once in a while, he flashed a smirk towards Sirius, taunting him with the fact that he was out there risking his life, while Sirius sat here in this damned house which he hated with every fiber of his being. But each and every time he growled in the back of his throat, ready to give Snape a piece of his mind, Remus would elbow him in the ribs and hiss in his ear. 'Ignore him Sirius, ignore him.'
But as meeting after meeting passed, Sirius found it harder to suppress his animosity towards Snape, he found it difficult to pay no heed to him, and yet Sirius knew he was in fact a part of this order, he couldn't help but feel that he played no role in it. He couldn't help but feel useless; he couldn't help but feel that Snape was truthful in his accusations. He had, of course, asked Dumbledore to give him a task, anything to aid the order with, but he had, as always, answered with the same retort.
"I am sorry Sirius," Dumbledore had said in his annoyingly calm voice. "But you know that it is too perilous for you to be out there, I would be risking your life and the Orders confidentiality as well."
Sirius retorted with nothing when Dumbledore would reiterate the same line, but this time, Sirius had. It was not for a selfish cause however, it was not for the need to get out of this place he loathed so much. On the contrary, it was because of the news that Arthur Weasley had informed him, and that news concerned his godson, Harry, who right now could be hurt. He had told Dumbledore that he wanted to check on Harry, that he was worried about him, but the old man had right out refused, and Sirius was tempted with the idea of completely ignoring him, and barge into Privet Drive himself. He would have done it of course, with no fear of the consequences. He knew that he wouldn't get caught, but if it were not for Remus, who had persuaded him to stay if, he, himself had checked on Harry, then Sirius would have gone through the idea that had settled in his head.
But Remus had yet not returned, and now, he was starting to get apprehensive as he listened to the ticking of his watch.
Tick...
Tick…
Tick…
The wait was driving him insane as the seconds passed! And Sirius was on the brink of sanity!
"Ouch!"
Letting his fork fall to a jangle on his plate, Sirius's head jerked up at that sound, and he pulled out his wand. Now, the blaze of anger inside him altered into an excited flare. Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside, strode around the table towards the figure that had rolled out of his fire place keeping him at wand point.
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Authors Note
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Err, sorry about the wait...but I hope this chapter was worth it .. Anyway please Review !
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Oh! And Happy 4th of July for any Americans out there !