Chapter 4 : Determination
Harry sat at a picnic table outside an unoccupied caravan, full from his unanticipated feast. Thinking back over the last couple of days Harry realised how lucky he had been to get this far; he now had some decent shoes on his feet and his stomach was full and – miracle of miracles – he'd seen no evidence of his pursuers!
Knowing that Malfoy and the Death Eaters would be fairly close behind him Harry realised that he couldn't go on much further on foot. He needed some form of transport and he needed it fast. He also needed to determine his destination!
Where to?
Harry carefully weighed up his options.
Back to Privet Drive? No point. The Dursleys were dead and the house would probably still be crawling with Muggle Police Officers. Might as well just hand himself to the authorities.
To Arabella Figgs?
Too close to Privet Drive. Somebody who knew him or the Dursleys might spot him.
Hogwarts?
Too far! Would be safe there, Harry hoped, but would be really pushing his luck to try and get that far whilst being pursued by the Death Eaters.
And then it came to him... where next to Hogwarts was one of the safest places in the wizarding world? Grimmauld Place. Of course! Much nearer than Hogwarts and with the protection on the place Harry would surely be protected from pursuit and from the Muggle Police and he would be able to get the omnioculars and the information they contained to the Order of the Phoenix!
With a destination now firmly in mind the next item on the agenda was How?
If only I knew how to apparate it would take only seconds. A portkey.... Floo.... Broomstick ....!!!
Harry sighed with frustration. There were many different ways to magically transport onself from one side of the country to the other but not one of them could Harry use so he was going to have to stick with Muggle methods then.
Bus?
Too far and no money for fare.
Train?
Better but still need fare money.
Car?
He couldn't drive and he'd done enough stealing and didn't want to do more if he could avoid it, not only that but he was already wanted by the Police and didn't want to risk drawing any more attention to himself.
Walking between rows of caravans Harry approached the back of the food court once more and then the answer came to him.
Parked at the back of the "Fish'n'Chicks and Buckets o'Chips" restaurant was a lorry bringing fresh fish from Billingsgate Fish Market in London!
He could try and hitch a ride with the lorry driver!
Excitement coursing through him Harry rapidly strode towards the back door of the restaurant hoping that the driver might still be inside but when he looked inside his insides turned to ice!
Sitting on the counter was a portable TV with the lunchtime news on and slap bang in the middle of the screen was his own face!
Panicking Harry turned tail and ran.
He ran up the road to the entrance to the site and kept on running right out on to the main road.
It only took about five minutes for Harry to realise that he couldn't keep on going like this and seeing a sign saying Public Footpath to Summerton Bassett he turned into a hedge-lined avenue running at right-angles to the main road. Slowing his pace to a fast walk Harry re-thought his options.
A lift in a lorry up to London would have been perfect but now would be too risky. If his face was on the TV news then the chance was that his description would also be on the radio so a lift by a lorry driver could be a lift straight into captivity.
Well until he could think of a better choice it would have to be Shanks's Pony.
Harry knew the winding country footpaths would keep him well away from busy muggle-populated areas but the only problem was that the more remote the path was from "civilization" then the Death Eaters would be free to use brooms to try and search for him without running the risk of being spotted. So another compromise then.
Stick to the B class roads through the scattered hamlets and hope that the risk of cars and farm vehicles passing him would also keep the Death Eaters away. Surely motorists spotting a lone kid on the road would pay very little attention to him and wasn't he being sought in Surrey and not in Wiltshire?
With these worries playing on his mind Harry arrived in the village of Summerton Bassett. Typical of many hamlets in that part of Wiltshire, Summerton Bassett was strung out along one main street with a church, a pub and a petrol station that had a mini-supermarket and post-office attached. Having drunk a most of the coke along with his fish and chips Harry needed to use the loo and fortunately the petrol station had one that was not only open but immaculately clean.
Harry had just vacated a cubicle when a young man in his early twenties wearing motorcycle leathers came in and Harry heard the unmistakable tones of a mobile phone ringing. With an annoyed shrug to Harry the motorcyclist dumped the rucksack he was carrying on the floor and rummaged inside it pulling out nearly the entire contents until he found the phone. Answering he shouted to his caller that the signal was breaking up and to hang on.
"Do me a favour mate? Keep an eye on me stuff for us will ya?"
"Yeah sure" replied Harry walking over to the sink to wash his hands.
In just a couple of minutes the biker was back.
"Bitch! Bloody bitch! Couldn't even tell me to my face!" Despite the tough looking exterior Harry could see tears welling up in the man's eyes.
Harry didn't know what had happened but it was obvious that the call had been devastating to receive.
"You OK?" Harry enquired with not a little trepidation. The man was only a few years older than Harry it was true but he seemed to have muscles on top of muscles and Harry had no doubt he could flatten him if he chose.
"OK? No I'm bloody well not OK! I've just got off a six-week stint on a rig in the north sea and do you know what the first thing I did was when I hit shore? I went and spent two months wages on a bloody engagement ring that'll never be worn that's what I did! I've been riding all night to get here and with only another fifty miles to go she rings me up and says not to bother coming round tonight because she's going out to dinner with Alexander!"
The rider spat the name out as if it were some foul swear word.
"I knew he was coming on to her but she kept on swearing that he was only coming round to her flat to talk about work 'Its a major project and we just don't have time in the office to get to grips with all the problems' Yeah right! It was problems he wanted to get a grip of was it! I know what he wanted to get his hands on and it weren't no problems!"
At that his anger seemed to be drowned in the welling tears and in his embarrassment he turned to Harry.
"Sorry kid, shouldn't be blubbering all over you like a bloody girl!"
"No its fine, really. Don't worry about it!" Harry was strongly reminded of Hagrid whose rough exterior belied a very soft and emotional centre.
Bending down to re-pack his bag the biker picked up a baseball cap bearing an oil-company logo on the front of it.
"Brought that back for her this trip I did. Well that was another waste of time weren't it! Tell you what why don't you have it. Can't bring you any more bad luck than it has me."
Bad luck! Thought Harry. He'd had enough of that to last a lifetime but he thanked his new found friend and stuck it on his head. "Cheers. At least it'll keep the sun out of my eyes while I'm walking. Anyway better be getting a move on." Harry went out the door and was walking across the forecourt with his new "disguise" and thought that perhaps his luck would hold after all when he heard footsteps behind him.
"Here hold up kid! You said you were walking? Where you going? D'ya need a lift?"
Not believing his luck Harry quickly said that he was making his way to London and the biker's face fell.
"Sorry but I'm going in the opposite direction. I'm heading for Southampton. You're welcome to join me if you like. Tell you what, my mate Sam's taking his forty-footer up to Tilbury for a re-fit I'll ask him to give you a berth if you like."
Harry's face broke into the first real smile he had worn for days.
"That'd be brilliant! Cheers!"
"Well if we're travelling together I'd better introduce myself proper like. Name's Michael Thomas but most of my mates just call me Tank"
Harry looked puzzled and Bob quickly added "Yeah I know but on the rigs everyone has a nickname and I got mine because of that damned kids TV programme!"
Harry continued to look puzzled. The Dursleys had allowed Dudley to watch all the TV he wanted but anytime Harry tried to sit down and watch something he was curtly told "Don't sit their wasting your time boy, go and do...." And then they would reel off a list of chores for him to do instead.
"Don't tell me you've never heard of Thomas the TANK engine?"
Tank roared with laughter. "Well so much for the theory that anyone under 25 spends all their time watching TV eh? Anyway that's the nickname I was landed with."
"Well I don't mind calling you that" said Harry
"Good! What's your name? Or have you got a nickname too?"
No, thought Harry, don't go using a classmate's name again. He remembered using Neville Longbottom as an alias back in third year. Stick to a nickname it'd be safer. But he'd only ever been called Harry by his friends. The Dursleys called him all kinds of names none of which he cared to remember! But then he remembered back to first year when the Gryffindor Quidditch Team were upset at him for losing 50 points in one go.
"You can call me Seeker!" said Harry quite pleased at coming up with what he considered not only an appropriate but "cool" sounding nickname.
"OK Seeker! Let's get going then."
Tank pulled a spare cycle helmet out of the top box on the back of the bike, showed Harry how to adjust the chinstrap and once it was on his head and his new baseball cap safely stowed in his "rucksack" they were off.
Harry sat at a picnic table outside an unoccupied caravan, full from his unanticipated feast. Thinking back over the last couple of days Harry realised how lucky he had been to get this far; he now had some decent shoes on his feet and his stomach was full and – miracle of miracles – he'd seen no evidence of his pursuers!
Knowing that Malfoy and the Death Eaters would be fairly close behind him Harry realised that he couldn't go on much further on foot. He needed some form of transport and he needed it fast. He also needed to determine his destination!
Where to?
Harry carefully weighed up his options.
Back to Privet Drive? No point. The Dursleys were dead and the house would probably still be crawling with Muggle Police Officers. Might as well just hand himself to the authorities.
To Arabella Figgs?
Too close to Privet Drive. Somebody who knew him or the Dursleys might spot him.
Hogwarts?
Too far! Would be safe there, Harry hoped, but would be really pushing his luck to try and get that far whilst being pursued by the Death Eaters.
And then it came to him... where next to Hogwarts was one of the safest places in the wizarding world? Grimmauld Place. Of course! Much nearer than Hogwarts and with the protection on the place Harry would surely be protected from pursuit and from the Muggle Police and he would be able to get the omnioculars and the information they contained to the Order of the Phoenix!
With a destination now firmly in mind the next item on the agenda was How?
If only I knew how to apparate it would take only seconds. A portkey.... Floo.... Broomstick ....!!!
Harry sighed with frustration. There were many different ways to magically transport onself from one side of the country to the other but not one of them could Harry use so he was going to have to stick with Muggle methods then.
Bus?
Too far and no money for fare.
Train?
Better but still need fare money.
Car?
He couldn't drive and he'd done enough stealing and didn't want to do more if he could avoid it, not only that but he was already wanted by the Police and didn't want to risk drawing any more attention to himself.
Walking between rows of caravans Harry approached the back of the food court once more and then the answer came to him.
Parked at the back of the "Fish'n'Chicks and Buckets o'Chips" restaurant was a lorry bringing fresh fish from Billingsgate Fish Market in London!
He could try and hitch a ride with the lorry driver!
Excitement coursing through him Harry rapidly strode towards the back door of the restaurant hoping that the driver might still be inside but when he looked inside his insides turned to ice!
Sitting on the counter was a portable TV with the lunchtime news on and slap bang in the middle of the screen was his own face!
Panicking Harry turned tail and ran.
He ran up the road to the entrance to the site and kept on running right out on to the main road.
It only took about five minutes for Harry to realise that he couldn't keep on going like this and seeing a sign saying Public Footpath to Summerton Bassett he turned into a hedge-lined avenue running at right-angles to the main road. Slowing his pace to a fast walk Harry re-thought his options.
A lift in a lorry up to London would have been perfect but now would be too risky. If his face was on the TV news then the chance was that his description would also be on the radio so a lift by a lorry driver could be a lift straight into captivity.
Well until he could think of a better choice it would have to be Shanks's Pony.
Harry knew the winding country footpaths would keep him well away from busy muggle-populated areas but the only problem was that the more remote the path was from "civilization" then the Death Eaters would be free to use brooms to try and search for him without running the risk of being spotted. So another compromise then.
Stick to the B class roads through the scattered hamlets and hope that the risk of cars and farm vehicles passing him would also keep the Death Eaters away. Surely motorists spotting a lone kid on the road would pay very little attention to him and wasn't he being sought in Surrey and not in Wiltshire?
With these worries playing on his mind Harry arrived in the village of Summerton Bassett. Typical of many hamlets in that part of Wiltshire, Summerton Bassett was strung out along one main street with a church, a pub and a petrol station that had a mini-supermarket and post-office attached. Having drunk a most of the coke along with his fish and chips Harry needed to use the loo and fortunately the petrol station had one that was not only open but immaculately clean.
Harry had just vacated a cubicle when a young man in his early twenties wearing motorcycle leathers came in and Harry heard the unmistakable tones of a mobile phone ringing. With an annoyed shrug to Harry the motorcyclist dumped the rucksack he was carrying on the floor and rummaged inside it pulling out nearly the entire contents until he found the phone. Answering he shouted to his caller that the signal was breaking up and to hang on.
"Do me a favour mate? Keep an eye on me stuff for us will ya?"
"Yeah sure" replied Harry walking over to the sink to wash his hands.
In just a couple of minutes the biker was back.
"Bitch! Bloody bitch! Couldn't even tell me to my face!" Despite the tough looking exterior Harry could see tears welling up in the man's eyes.
Harry didn't know what had happened but it was obvious that the call had been devastating to receive.
"You OK?" Harry enquired with not a little trepidation. The man was only a few years older than Harry it was true but he seemed to have muscles on top of muscles and Harry had no doubt he could flatten him if he chose.
"OK? No I'm bloody well not OK! I've just got off a six-week stint on a rig in the north sea and do you know what the first thing I did was when I hit shore? I went and spent two months wages on a bloody engagement ring that'll never be worn that's what I did! I've been riding all night to get here and with only another fifty miles to go she rings me up and says not to bother coming round tonight because she's going out to dinner with Alexander!"
The rider spat the name out as if it were some foul swear word.
"I knew he was coming on to her but she kept on swearing that he was only coming round to her flat to talk about work 'Its a major project and we just don't have time in the office to get to grips with all the problems' Yeah right! It was problems he wanted to get a grip of was it! I know what he wanted to get his hands on and it weren't no problems!"
At that his anger seemed to be drowned in the welling tears and in his embarrassment he turned to Harry.
"Sorry kid, shouldn't be blubbering all over you like a bloody girl!"
"No its fine, really. Don't worry about it!" Harry was strongly reminded of Hagrid whose rough exterior belied a very soft and emotional centre.
Bending down to re-pack his bag the biker picked up a baseball cap bearing an oil-company logo on the front of it.
"Brought that back for her this trip I did. Well that was another waste of time weren't it! Tell you what why don't you have it. Can't bring you any more bad luck than it has me."
Bad luck! Thought Harry. He'd had enough of that to last a lifetime but he thanked his new found friend and stuck it on his head. "Cheers. At least it'll keep the sun out of my eyes while I'm walking. Anyway better be getting a move on." Harry went out the door and was walking across the forecourt with his new "disguise" and thought that perhaps his luck would hold after all when he heard footsteps behind him.
"Here hold up kid! You said you were walking? Where you going? D'ya need a lift?"
Not believing his luck Harry quickly said that he was making his way to London and the biker's face fell.
"Sorry but I'm going in the opposite direction. I'm heading for Southampton. You're welcome to join me if you like. Tell you what, my mate Sam's taking his forty-footer up to Tilbury for a re-fit I'll ask him to give you a berth if you like."
Harry's face broke into the first real smile he had worn for days.
"That'd be brilliant! Cheers!"
"Well if we're travelling together I'd better introduce myself proper like. Name's Michael Thomas but most of my mates just call me Tank"
Harry looked puzzled and Bob quickly added "Yeah I know but on the rigs everyone has a nickname and I got mine because of that damned kids TV programme!"
Harry continued to look puzzled. The Dursleys had allowed Dudley to watch all the TV he wanted but anytime Harry tried to sit down and watch something he was curtly told "Don't sit their wasting your time boy, go and do...." And then they would reel off a list of chores for him to do instead.
"Don't tell me you've never heard of Thomas the TANK engine?"
Tank roared with laughter. "Well so much for the theory that anyone under 25 spends all their time watching TV eh? Anyway that's the nickname I was landed with."
"Well I don't mind calling you that" said Harry
"Good! What's your name? Or have you got a nickname too?"
No, thought Harry, don't go using a classmate's name again. He remembered using Neville Longbottom as an alias back in third year. Stick to a nickname it'd be safer. But he'd only ever been called Harry by his friends. The Dursleys called him all kinds of names none of which he cared to remember! But then he remembered back to first year when the Gryffindor Quidditch Team were upset at him for losing 50 points in one go.
"You can call me Seeker!" said Harry quite pleased at coming up with what he considered not only an appropriate but "cool" sounding nickname.
"OK Seeker! Let's get going then."
Tank pulled a spare cycle helmet out of the top box on the back of the bike, showed Harry how to adjust the chinstrap and once it was on his head and his new baseball cap safely stowed in his "rucksack" they were off.