Chapter 2: Sneaky Beaky like
When Harry awoke the next morning, he felt extremely refreshed. Even though the anticipation and excitement in his stomach was palpable, it hardly compared to the peace of mind that came with abandoning his summer residence with the Dursley's.
As he rose from his bed to start the last of this particular routine, Harry actively felt his magic. His magic was like a calm and cool ocean breeze enveloping him, comforting his psyche, pleased with the turn of events. Harry wasn't sure if it had its own temperament or was merely a reflection of his subconscious, but he was fairly sure his magic didn't like to be chained while he was at the Dursley's either way.
He quietly slipped out of the front door in oversized shorts that Dudley wore when he was ten years old. He jogged out of the driveway at a moderate pace to warm his legs. Humans were creatures of routine and habit. Harry was no different. There was a sense of familiarity and safety in the Dursley's. While not pleasant, he still knew to expect the cold shoulder. He was already prepared to be basically ignored unless he annoyed them too much with existing. In order to achieve his plan, he would be entering the unknown. His plan carried a great deal of risk. It was a high risk, high reward scenario.
His legs felt warmed up while his lungs were struggling to get the appropriate amount of oxygen through his body. He had started noticing over the past few weeks that his magic aided in the healing of his muscles. Barely noticeable, but a sliver of his magic that normally coalesced around him would condense inside his body where he needed it. It was an automatic function that must have happened every time he was injured or under duress.
Over the past two weeks, he had been trying to consciously control the flow. Understandably so, it was difficult to tangibly harness and focus his magic into his body through sheer willpower while under running. A few days ago he got his magic focused into his left leg, the results instantaneous, but asymmetrical. His right leg still was an anchor weight, destroying his focus as his brain tried to process the disparate feelings in each leg, nearly causing him to fall over. Today, He focused on the same feeling of a straw to his leg, but added a split to his right to evenly power them.
Surprisingly, it worked. The muscles in his legs were tearing as fast as they were healing. From buckets filled with concrete, to the feathers of a bird. Harry took off into a sprint faster than he ever ran before. His legs gliding like a gazelle. However, another problem made itself very apparent. Despite the pain in his legs receding, his respiratory system couldn't keep up. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his gasping for breath was even more ragged as he ran over a bridge.
Once he set up the magic stream to his legs, it passively stayed in the same state without much attention needed. With the remaining mental focus available to him, Harry stopped his ragged breathing for a deep intake. Instead of just air, Harry imagined himself sucking in his magic. His magic was pulled within, coating his lungs. As fast as the snapping of fingers, his breathing returned to normal. In fact, better than normal. Under this condition, he could probably complete the second task while only coming up for air maybe once or twice.
Like a bat out of hell, Harry raced away. Breathing even, legs barely under load, propelling him forward with extreme velocity. However, Harry thought, This was not very efficient. Normally his magic hung around him like a vortex, and now he had taken it all within himself. Additionally, his mental load was complete as well. He would need to practice his occlumency and this technique more to be more efficient. He wasn't drained of magic, but the way he was going about it was like throwing buckets of water into a small container when he really only needed a pipette.
Every passerby he sped past seemed to be traveling so slow at their normal walking pace. Even other runners were left in the dust in the face of his pace. Harry stopped at the park he usually did. Partially forgetting his legs, he jumped up and nearly missed the bar as he jumped so high. A pull up turned into a muscle up. He really needed more practice so he could simultaneously spread his magic throughout his entire body with minimal effort. Still, In no time at all, Harry reached Privet Drive, barely even sweating despite his Olympic level sprint.
He was fifteen minutes faster than usual. Damn! Harry focused on expelling his magic back to its normal state. It flared out his body, swirling violently for a second before settling to the calm demeanor from that morning. His legs felt like they had before his run this morning, his breathing was even, but his arms were still sore. Naturally, his magic started seeping into his biceps and back. Without his conscious approval, the healing was slower and less noticeable. His mental load lightened up and he was able to focus more on his thoughts and surroundings. While using his magic in this manner, it consumed his attention and shut out everything else.
Everything back to normal, Harry dutifully made his relatives breakfast, heading outside to finish his chores as the Dursely's came down to eat without a word of thanks or even acknowledgment. He needed to pass the time anyways. Mundungus wouldn't show up until the early afternoon and it was still early morning. Harry mowed the lawn, weeded the garden, clipped the bushes, doing any and every chore he could think of.
Today was Friday, which meant that the Dursley's would be out to stuff their faces out of the town and maybe go somewhere fun. It was one of the last summer's Dudley would be with them after all. Naturally, Harry was not invited, but rather than be miffed, Harry was glad they would be out of his hair. They wouldn't stop his leaving, maybe even thank him for running away, but Harry preferred his leave to be more mysterious. The Dursley's were not discrete and could have their minds read by Dumbledore or Snape quite easily. Any misdirection would be useful.
Harry had already done everything to do inside and out of the house. He did one last look around the yard, appearing to be looking for any imperfection to correct. Really though, he was looking for Fletcher.
And here he was. Harry looked at the ground in slight disgust. A fire whiskey bottle was partially sticking out of the invisibility cloak, the stench of alcohol wafting up, and the sound of snoring emanating from the bush. Not much use for actually protecting Harry from anything, but, it also made his escape all that much easier. Harry spared another moment to frown down at the sleeping wretch before heading back inside to finalize the preparations.
He jumped into the shower, scrubbed himself down well, using non scented soap. He didn't want his plan to be foiled by smelling too good. Lupin would be one of the people potentially chasing him after all. The Dursely's had already left to enjoy their night away from him. It was all coming together.
Harry dressed in nondescript baggy oversized pants and light jacket. From Dudley's closet, Harry snagged a beanie to cover his hair and scar. Harry never wore hats. Even such a simple change would make it much harder to pick him out in a crowd.
Cleaning the Dursley's house routinely gave Harry intimate knowledge of lost money and some stashes in the house. Dudley had one underneath his bed in a box with ninety-five quid in it. Petunia had another seventy-five inside a vase in the kitchen. Harry pilfered their money to add to his own thirty-three pounds and eighty-nine pence. All together, that left Harry with two-hundred pounds and eighty nine pence. Not a fortune by any means, but it gave him a small buffer for muggle transport and cheap meals for a few days. Much better than trying to use galleons to purchase vegetables at the local Tesco.
Harry didn't like stealing, but the Dursley's also never paid him a pence for his continual servitude in the house, so he didn't feel too bad about it. He'd rather steal from Petunia, Vernon, or Dudley than some random person who may really need their pocket change.
In the kitchen, Harry grabbed a decent sized kitchen-knife, wrapping it in a shirt as a makeshift sheath and placing it inside his jacket. Knives were useful tools, especially since Harry wouldn't be able to use his wand. His wandless magic was still limited to enhancing his body, so Harry didn't want to rely on trying to use regular spells wandlessly when he had no idea how to accomplish that feat yet.
Slinking back to his room, Harry opened Hedwig's cage. "Girl, we are leaving. Let's go!" Hedwig hooted in approval before perching herself on his shoulder. Harry jammed his shrunken trunk into his pocket. He had shrunken his trunk before getting on the train outbound from Hogwarts.
Harry walked out the back door, serenely closing the door behind him. Briefly, a dark thought entered his mind. Should he incapacitate Mundungus? He could knock him out since he didn't know when he would wake from his drunken stupor. Alternatively, He could slice Mundungus's throat to throw the order for a loop. It certainly would add credence to him being kidnapped as opposed to running. He shook his head and shot that thought down. He really didn't want to stain his hands anymore than necessary. While he had steeled himself to take the lives of those who threatened his, he couldn't just murder someone who was trying to do some good, even a lowlife like Fetcher. Plus, Snape would inform the order that the Dark Lord did not have Harry, so any minor misdirection in the short term, wouldn't benefit him in the long run. Finally, it would serve his interests to have Mundungus give the all clear to the next guard, who would potentially sit at privet drive for hours until they realized he was long gone. He deserved to be exposed as an incompetent alcoholic. A heroic death protecting the boy who lived was much too good for him.
Back to the task at hand. "Alright Girl. I don't know when I will have a steady source of food, So I need you to hunt for yourself. Just follow me from afar. I don't want any attention drawn to us." Hedwig nipped at his finger, before balefully looking at him. The look suggested that she thought he would be the one to screw up and bring attention to them. One hoot of concern later, Hedwig extended her wings and shot up into the afternoon sky.
Harry chuckled to himself. She was probably right. Harry gazed around the immaculate backyard. If he had the misfortune of ever seeing this place in his life again, it would be too soon. He wouldn't miss the Dursley's, the neighborhood, the house, or anything so normal and upstanding as Privet Drive.
Harry could feel his magic pulse with conviction and determination. It was time to forge his own destiny. There may be a prophecy hanging over his head, forcing him down a path he'd rather not. However, Harry knew at that moment that he needed to fulfill the prophecy on his own terms.
Harry deeply inhaled, and focused his magic. He drew the latent magic around him within himself, constricting it, like he was trying to create water pressure in a pipe. Holding his breath, Harry opened his eyes.
The plants slightly swaying from the wind seemed sharper in his vision. He could count each leaf individually, whereas before he saw a mass of plants. Slight disorientation occurred as time seemed to slow down. The leaves swayed at half speed. Harry shut his eyes and forced his magic to the same layout as his workout earlier.
He ceased to feel any strain from standing, while the breath he had been holding in lost all urgency. Thankfully, His perception of his surroundings had returned to normal. He really needed to investigate the effects of his magic in detail. That would have to wait though.
Harry leaned forward and sprinted full speed ahead at the fence across the backyard lawn. His gait was like a gazelle, his footing moving with grace he certainly didn't possess in fourth year during the yule ball. As his dominant foot hit the edge of the planter, Harry propelled himself upwards. The five foot five fence never seemed so short. He grabbed the top of the fence with his hands, his legs effortlessly arching over. He hit the ground with speed and dominant force, knees tucking to absorb the shock, but he barely even felt like he was moving. He hopped the neighbors fence to the street, sprinting full speed out of Privet Drive.
People were milling about, some walking around, the occasional porch sitter, and a few other runners. Harry flashed past them all. He took a seemingly random route. He Turned at stoplights, and ducked through alleyways until he came upon a bus stop he had investigated while prepping his escape. He would only have to transition to a different bus once to be taken out of Surrey en route to the London rail station.
Thanks to his magic, he wasn't panting or even sweating. There were a few other people waiting for the bus. Now that things slowed from an Olympic level sprint down to casually standing still waiting for the bus, Harry could feel himself become self conscious and paranoid. What if one of these people happens to recognize me? My plan, burnt to cinders in a moment with no reasonable way to escape.
Harry suspiciously looked at the other people waiting. Two men in Business attire, and a couple dressed more casually. Thankfully, the two men had that glazed over look that comes from commuting every day. Lost in thought, desperately wishing to already be at their destination, but resigned to reality. Neither was paying any mind to anyone else. The couple looked like a pair of tourists. They were animatedly looking around, chatting loudly, and carrying maps, binoculars, each with a fanny pack strapped around them. They seemed completely absorbed in their plans and each other. The company lessened his worry about being caught.
Plus, how many wizards were lining up to ride muggle transport? In the muggle world, Harry was just another nondescript young man in a large city not even worth noting. Anyone looking at the group, muggers or wizards alike, would be much more drawn to the colorful tourists. He still couldn't help but feel a bit on edge however.
After a ten minute wait, and two bus stops on different routes to Harry's in which one the business men boarded, the bus heading into London stopped to allow them on. Last one aboard after the Tourist couple and the other man with a rather large mustache, Harry saw the driver looking at him with that same disinterested look he probably gave to everyone. Paying his fare quickly, Harry walked to the first available seat next to a middle aged man reading a newspaper in the window seat.
When Harry sat down next to him, he didn't even look at him, so engrossed in reading the news as he was. Curious if the muggle newspaper was just as shoddy as their magical counterpart, Harry stole a glance at the article he was reading. Knife crime on the rise in London! Apparently, some gang members had carved up a junkie who couldn't pay and raped the woman with him. Harry tensed the hand he had on his kitchen knife underneath his jacket in the makeshift sheath. He wanted to protect himself, but he also was not too keen to become another muggle crime statistic.
A few minutes later the bus stopped and the man turned to Harry and gave him a look. Harry almost panicked before realizing he only wanted off the bus. Jerkily standing up, Harry let him get off and he left without another glance. Harry now had the window seat all to himself as the bus slowly went about its route. They were Heading into London proper, so Harry allowed himself to enjoy the scenery.
The few times he had been in London were always ruined by sharing the experience with the Dursely's. The stress of his Uncle's disapproving glares, and Dudley's harassment prevented him lowering his guard. Being an anonymous muggle in a large city of roughly seven million people gave him the confidence to just look out the window and enjoy the city. The tall skyscrapers that dominated the metropolitan area were beautiful, even if they didn't compare to the majesty of Hogwarts. At his intermediate stop, Harry switched from the commuter bus lane to the one that would take him to the train station.
While the bus continued its journey, Harry found himself lost in his thoughts. The decision of where to escape had plagued Harry for a week until he was able to asses his options. The year before he had heard Vernon talking about the Shengen zone allowing for free travel in a number of European states. The Dursely's were planning a trip, naturally during a time when Harry was at Hogwarts so they wouldn't have to drag him along. That said, Leaving Britain would be very convenient for lowering his chances of getting caught.
He was not sure how popular he was internationally. Potentially, he could even sparingly participate in wizarding culture in another country without having his cover blown if he was only super famous and recognizable to British wizards. Fleur, after all, had called him a, "leetle boy" during fourth year, as opposed to making a comment about his status. Then again, the fiasco with the tri-wizarding tournament was an international debacle with press on Harry himself. France itself was probably not a good choice as a result.
Still, the potential was there so Harry had visited the library to research the Shengen Area. Harry was disappointed to find out that the UK had not become a member. Once he crossed the English Channel, Harry would have to show his visa to the French border control. Naturally, The Dursely's had never gotten a passport for Harry, and as an underage minor, his ability to get one legally was nonexistent. Due to his lifestyle and lack of muggle or magical contacts, his ability to have one forged was also nonexistent. However, Harry did have Magic on his side. It was a massive risk to attempt to confound border control, but Harry didn't have many options. High risk High reward was going to be his best bet. Once he was in France however, he could go to Belgium, Germany, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Portugal, and Spain without border checks.
Naturally, He needed to decide where to go first. Staying in France or Germany did not seem like the best options in terms of staying incognito, so Harry assessed the others. Once again though, he was limited by the options in the library. Due to his age, and not being a citizen of these countries, Harry would not be able to just move there and live as a muggle. Even if he could, a forty hour work week would really hamper his ability to train for his eventual return to Britain. He didn't have many survival skills, but it seemed his best bet was to find a large national park or reserve, and just disappear and live off the land for a bit. It would give him time to become truly in tune with his magic.
Additionally, Harry had a hunch that in most reserves a portion of it was reserved for magical use. The fact that Hogwarts was in Scotland and not anywhere else in the country was very telling. The entire population of Scotland was lower than the city he was currently in. Muggles had satellites and a desire to build anywhere possible. Having a giant forest where development was forbidden meant much less scrutiny on the area, perfect for magical creatures, villages, and schools.
At the library, Harry had found a book on Spanish national parks. After looking through them, the Picos de Europa national park seemed to be a great destination for Harry to travel to. The park was a staggering size of 67,127 hectares. There would be plenty of animals to hunt, as the park contained half of vertebrates found in the Iberian Peninsula. There would also be a multitude of places to hide considering the lush forests, meadows, mountains, gorges, and lakes. Under better circumstances, it would be a great vacation location. Finally, if his theory about magical placement was correct, there would be magic there for him to experience too, whether a wizarding village or a pocket of magical creatures. There were certainly worse places he could choose under the circumstances, like going to Scotland, just as a muggle.
His Decision reinforced, Harry snapped back to reality to see that his bus had finally arrived at Kings Cross Station. Harry stepped down the steps of the bus and started walking in. Weaving in and out of the crowded station Harry made his way over to the ticket booth.
"Hello sir, What can I do for you today?" a relatively attractive woman in her early to mid twenties asked in the perfect customer service vernacular.
"Just one ticket to Folkstone Central Coast, miss." Harry said a tad shyly.
She smiled at him, picking up on his unease. "That will be twenty-five pounds."
Harry steeled himself. His money supply was very limited and he needed practice, especially if he was going to manipulate the French Border control in Calais. Clearing his mind and retracting his magic within his right arm. His arm felt tensed, his magic ready to to strike like a viper..He simply pulled out a five pound bill and pushed all his willpower into making it look like twenty-five pounds sterling. To Harry, the bill looked unchanged, but he forced himself to hand it to the attendant.
She seemed to take his awkwardness for something rather than trying to swindle her as she took the bill, and put it into the register like it was the proper amount. She smiled at him again. "Here is your ticket sir. You may want to hurry, as the train should be leaving in the next ten minutes."
Harry grabbed the ticket from her, feeling much more confident now that his trick worked. He smiled back with a simple one word reply coming from his lips. "Perfect."
This was good news indeed. Harry had one more task at hand before boarding the train. At the end of last year, he had destroyed a number of Dumbledore's trinkets. Some of which monitored him. Harry was not sure if there was a type of tracking charm on his person. He strolled over to a random train he would not be boarding.
Once again he pulled all of his magic and pulled it in towards his abdomen. He forced all of it into a tight ball. His focus and willpower were strained as his magic wanted to be free to flow off of him like its normal state. This was not a stable way to hold his magic. Harry took out his miniaturized trunk and put it on the ground. Before he lost control and all his effort was for naught, Harry focused on forcing any foreign magic on himself to be ripped off and pushed away. He pulsed his magic, feeling two signatures that he never noticed before getting torn off like a band-aid and dissipating into the sky. If his earlier trick didn't alert the magical authorities that magic was being used in the area, that most certainly did.
Harry scooped up his trunk off the ground, placing it back into his pocket, before leaving in the most inconspicuous way possible. Head tilted down, not making eye contact with anybody, Harry walked fast enough to show he was in a hurry to catch a train, but not in a way to suggest he was running from the police or being chased in any way. Dodging and weaving through the crowded terminal towards his actual destination, Harry pulled his magic inside once more, except this time, he focused on spreading it throughout his entire body but containing it so that he didn't leak an aura.
Two men rushed past Harry in the direction he came from. Daring to look back, Harry could clearly see the tip of a wand peeking out of their sleeves. Evidently, They did pick up on his magical use, and based on the way the two aurors were acting, they judged it to be a serious breach of magical security. Harry was glad to be wearing a hat and clothing he normally didn't wear. If they had seen him how he normally looked, they would have seized him like hawks before he even knew they were there.
Harry rushed over to his train, getting in just as the last call came out. Finding an empty seat next to a few commuters, Harry kept his aura contained but allowed himself to relax.
Looking towards the window, Harry got a peculiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. On one hand, there was a sense of danger. That was a close call. If the risks he took did not pan out, all his efforts up to this point would have been for nothing. On the other hand, there was sentimentality gripping his psyche. He was not leaving on a train to Hogwarts, the place he truly felt was his home. In fact, it could very well be years before he ended his self imposed exile to walk through those exalted halls. At the same time, There was some poetic justice to really starting his journey here. When he was eleven, he left this train station for a place that truly opened his eyes to a whole new world, a whole new home. Here he was doing the same thing again, just on his terms this time. That thought gave Harry a rush of satisfaction.
He was pursuing his goals, his ambitions on his terms. The path ahead was not going to be easy, but it was the path Harry was choosing to walk. There really was nothing better than freedom. For So long, harry had felt trapped by doing what others forced him to do, whether teachers, Voldemort, or other students. Then more recently, He had his destiny thrust upon him. The hard and true reality that saving the wizarding world was entirely in his hands. Yet, at the same time, being completely hamstrung by adults telling him to let them take care of a problem they couldn't solve. Arthur nearly died, Sirius did die, mostly due to Dumbledore withholding information from him, in an effort to give Harry a "childhood". Harry was done being a boy. He was ready to be a man, ready to solve his problems and his destiny in the manner Harry felt was appropriate. He would forge a new home, a new life, and a new wizarding world in his own image.
At Folkstone Central Harry got on the last train to Calais, once again scamming to the teller. He did feel slightly bad since they probably had to count their tills, but the ethical dilemma was not going to stop him. The tunnel was quite discerning. It had opened the previous year and it was quite weird to think there was billions of gallons of water above him as the train bulleted on at one hundred miles an hour.
In Calais, Harry got off the train to see the large line of people going through the normal channels of getting verified and allowed into France. Once it was Harry's turn, He handed the man his shrunk trunk, imbuing it to make it appear as a passport to the border patrol man. With zero confusion, the man read his trunk and stamped it with the seal before handing it back to Harry. Harry walked out the station in the cool air of the french night. Hedwig dived out of the sky and landed on his shoulder. Harry stroked her feathers affectionately. "Common girl, let's get some food to celebrate. We are free." Hedwig Hooted in appreciation. The flight must have built quite the appetite for her. Harry's own stomach growled in anticipation. Tonight was a good night.
A/N: I wrote the majority of this chapter, lost 3-4k words, then took a break from this story to work my job, play CS:GO, and hit the gym because losing that killed my motivation. The comment by Yaww6113 telling me to get off my lazy ass and write this story spurned me to finish this. If this chapter or some of the ideas in it feels disjointed as a result of my break, I apologize. I am starting college up again and working full time so the next part is going to take awhile too.
Stevem1 I don't have a beta so that doesn't surprise me. If my capitalization is also bad in this chapter then my b.
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