Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a few other people own everything, I don't.

Come Take My Hand

Chapter 4

Don't Look Back

The morning brought with it faint beams of sunlight and the distant chirping of birds. The light that filtered through the leaves came to fall on the pale face of the child who had seeked refuge under the aged tree many hours earlier.

Rather than a bitterly cold breeze, a slight morning chill lingered in the air now. The damp forest leaves were stationary, not rustling in the slightest and were weighed down with dew.

As the sunlight gave warmth to the boy's previously cold face and arms, Harry stirred. Taking in his unusual surroundings, he was hit by initial confusion that after a couple of moments thought was replaced with reluctant comprehension.

If he had been alone in the world a few weeks ago, he was even more so now. His remaining family had basically thrown him out, leaving Harry to imagine what the consequences of returning may be. If his uncle was still harbouring the anger that he had felt the previous night, he didn't doubt that he would be beaten to a pulp.

Being tortured by Dudley was bad enough and the boy didn't really want to make any predictions on the amount of pain the larger version would be capable of inflicting.

Especially now Harry had killed Aunt Petunia.

If Harry's own mother had been murdered as opposed to dying in a car accident, he was sure that he would be very angry at whoever had committed such a crime.

No wonder Dudley wanted his father to hurt him.

He deserved it, for he was now relatively certain that he must be responsible for the fire. Uncle Vernon said so and he was a grown-up, he'd have reasons for making the accusation.

He deserved to be hurt.

But no matter how hard he tried to force himself to return for his rightful punishment, Harry couldn't bring himself to venture back to Marge's old house.

It was an accident, certainly it was...

He wouldn't go back there, he was alright by himself, he was used to being alone.

But neither could he stay where he was. Dressed in a worn t-shirt and thin pajama pants, he would easily catch a cold before long...he had no food at all, and although his eyes carefully surveyed the area around him, nothing seemed remotely edible.

Where was he to go to now?

Harry cautiously arose from the small hide-away, his muscles aching as they were stretched at last. He shoved his long black hair away from his eyes, before looking downwards at his appearance.

He would surely attract some stares, he realised.

Unless he kept out of sight, only going in open areas during darkness. By day, he could follow the path of the forest, hidden behind the boughs and leaves.

Eventually, he might find somewhere safe to stay.

The child began wandering as he daydreamed about being found by some long-lost relative, maybe someone with the last name 'Potter', just like him.

Perhaps they hadn't heard about his parents' death, that was why they hadn't collected him from the Dursleys' earlier.

But they would recognise him straight away, sweep him up into their arms and take him home to live with them.

There, they would read him stories, hug him, maybe even bake him a birthday cake on his birthday. He would stay with them for ever and ever, it would be him very own home and family.

The child smiled as he walked on through the thick forestation. His empty stomach and sore, bare feet didn't bother him, he was lost in his brilliant fantasy world.

However, the forest soon transformed into a green countryside, quite unfamiliar to him. It appeared to be deserted, and after Harry felt assured of this, he ventured out over across the fields. The atmosphere here was calming and quiet.

Soon it became obvious to him that this peaceful paradise did not stretch out infinitely into the distance. Before him stood a flimsy fence formed by wire and unevenly sawed wooden bars. And behind this lay a rough country road. It was this road, of course, that caused the boy the greater distress. Although there were no cars in sight, it couldn't be guaranteed that it would remain this way for long.

Yet following this road would no doubt lead him to a town or city. There, he may be able to find food or shelter. He wasn't exactly sure how, but he would certainly have a better chance in finding all that he needed in a more populated area.

Of course, he would have to be exceptionally careful if he was to avoid attracting attention. If someone realised he was lost and alone, what would happen to him? He wasn't sure.

An orphanage seemed the logical place for them to put him. And maybe that wasn't a fully bad thing. At least there he would be given food. Yet he still was ambivalent where it came to orphanages.

Feeling weary from a combination of hunger, exhaustion and worry, Harry traipsed behind a rising of grass that blocked any view of him from the road. Here he collapsed into the long grass. He had been walking for a large portion of the day and the slowly sinking sun hinted that darkness would set in after a few more hours.

Then, he might follow the road. If he kept low, behind the fence and amongst the grass, he might be less visible to anyone driving by. If there was only an occasional car passing during daylight hours, the chances of encountering much traffic during the night appeared slim.

Harry picked at the grass, shredding it and twisting it idly. He thought it best not to fall asleep; he may then wake up and find it morning once more. The nighttime seemed to offer him some degree of protection, he didn't wish to miss it.

As soon as the sun dropped behind the darkened hills, the child began to follow the road from what he felt to be a safe distance. He had been right in thinking that he wouldn't met many cars, the road now seemed more lonesome than it had during the day.

Still, every so often the distant beams of headlights gave him reason to drop down onto his stomach.

During the first night of tired walking, he figured he had made very little progress. The country around him didn't seem to be changing a great deal, with just a few houses scattered over the hills and fields.

As he stumbled along on the second night, his empty stomach caused him pangs of hunger and his lack of energy made him drowsy.

Once, he had been lost once more in a daydream, and he was caught off-guard by the sound of a motor approaching fast. As he dropped down, he felt he may have been a fraction too late, yet the car drove on. Feeling that perhaps his existance would be ignored by most, he carried on with slightly more confidence, and his surroundings soon became less rural and more urbanised.

This new scenery turned out to be more beneficial for Harry. The buildings, fences and other structures offered shadows for him to travel through and anyone that was out at this time of night paid him no attention, busy with suspicious tasks of their own.

For these reasons, the child risked walking out in the open whenever it seemed easier than seeking formations to take cover behind.

A drinking fountain Harry discovered near a schoolyard helped to soothe his dry mouth and throat and, now no longer thirsty, he couldn't help but feel slightly happier. Neglecting any form of cover or shadow, he skipped and jumped along the footpath, biting into a juicy apple that had fallen from a tree by the park.

The dark shops that lined the street were all closed and the next sign of life Harry saw was a finger pointed directly at him, portruding from a small group of unfriendly looking people on the other side of the road.

The second that this registered in his mind, the child tore off down the street. His time spent in solitude had made him uneasy with strangers, and the fear of any form of confrontation favoured the idea of running. It was his first instinct, and the behaviour of the seemingly drunk figures behind him proved that it wasn't a mistake.

Running...he'd found himself doing this very often as of late.

Did these people also think he was a murderer?

No...how could they have heard about him?

Unless...could his Uncle have told everyone about Aunt Petunia?

The child frantically turned a corner, finding himself on yet another street of shops. There was nowhere for him to seek refuge...no trees, no hills, no cupboards...

Looking back over his shoulder, it was evident that his pursuers hadn't yet reached the corner. Maybe they had given up, or maybe they were still to arrive. He glanced around behind him, checking for any hiding places he may have missed earlier.

Not looking where he was going, the boy promptly collided with something hard in front of him and he was knocked backwards, off his feet. Hitting the concrete pathway, his glasses fell from his pale face.

"Watch where you're going, muggle."

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A/N - Thank-you again for the reviews, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Next Chapter: Next weekend, probably, I have exams this week and I should probably add another chapter to my other story before updating this one again...