SANCTUARY
Chapter 11: Handlebars
Harry's dream was different. It was a disappointing realization, especially with his scar searing hotly - painfully - into his skin the way it was. If Harry were to compare it to anything, it would be as if someone were smacking the flat of his head with a golden poker (something Harry had the unfortunate knowledge of experiencing). But even so, there was no peaceful beach in his dream, or sand, or a little house overlooking the horizon. There was nothing but darkness actually. He was standing in the midst of a rainstorm, occasionally illuminated by the turning brightness of the white and red lighthouse towering over him. Harry could still hear the surf somewhere below him, crashing against the cliff side, and roaring in his ears like some ferocious beast. But there was no peace, only overwhelming fear as there was cackling female laughter from above.
Craning to see in the night and rain, Harry spotted Hermione up on the lighthouse platform, being held close to the edge by a figure in black. His best friend looked older then Harry remembered, tall and slender, struggling honorably in the strangers grip. Harry's stomach twisted in his gut, but his feet refused to move forward as both figures on the lighthouse edge were silhouetted with every clockwise turn of the rotating beam. Eventually, there was a lightning strike and another bout of laughter as Hermione's cry reached Harry's ears, and her figure was pushed from behind. Her shadow fell down towards the earth, down, down,
"No!" Harry sat up rapidly, awakening from his nightmare. Turning, someone was knocking lightly but frantically at his door. Blinking and rubbing his aching scar, while also patting Snuffles who was waiting alertly by the bed, Harry twisted on the lamp at his bedside and went to the door. As he expected - no Weasley would be knocking at this time of night - Hermione stood out in the hallway. But she was dressed in cloak, ready to travel, and had some sort of large sack in her hands. Harry resisted his urge to yank the girl into his embrace, and rubbed his eyes instead, "whatzit, 'Mione?"
"They know,"
It was a simple phrase, but it caught Harry's attention and he was awake in an instant. Allowing Hermione to pass through the open door ( and letting Chrookshanks in to after his master), Harry closed the room tightly and turned to face his friend. Even wild eyed, Hermione still managed to glow with youthfulness in the dim lamplight, "we can't stay here, we have to leave now,"
"Why? What happened?"
Hermione didn't say anything at first, merely moving about the room to collect the pieces of Harry's discarded clothing. After tossing him the pile, she turned around and covered her eyes, alerting Harry that he was to get dressed that instant. Doing so at a rapid pace, his cheeks hot with blush, Hermione explained to him the goings on from across the room,
"I overheard the Weasley adults talking just now," Hermione said, eyes still closed as Snuffles made a noise from across the room, similar to an amused laugh, "Mr. Weasley said he was going to call Dumbledore tomorrow morning. He knows that we're lying,"
"Does he know I'm Harry Potter?" Harry asked, wiggling into his trousers as Hermione shook her head from under her hands,
"Not for sure, but I think he suspects - are you finished?"
Harry made a noise meaning, yes, and Hermione turned back around to face him, "if we don't leave, we might not be able to slip out. Mr. Weasley said he couldn't let you out of his sight,"
"What about you?"
"I'm at an advantage, Harry. I'm just some nameless muggleborn witch, remember? You, on the other hand, are Harry Potter,"
"More like a burden," Harry insisted, shoving both feet into his trainers as Hermione shook her head wildly,
"You're not a burden to me, Harry. Anyway, I have some food from Mrs. Weasley's picnic which should last us a day or two, maybe more if we don't eat a lot. Do you know how to ride a bike Harry?"
"Uh, no?" Harry felt flummoxed as his face got red and he scuffed a shoe. There was no way the Dursley's would ever let him ride a bike. Not even Dudley's old bike. Harry had seen other kids riding them all the time, and it seemed simple enough, but he had never before tried to accomplish the feat, "sorry,"
"Don't worry, maybe I'll have time later to teach you,"
"Why do we need a bike? Where are we going to get one?" Harry questioned, eyebrows raised up into his hairline as Hermione finished clipping a makeshift string collar about Snuffle's neck,
"We won't get very far on foot," she admitted, running a hand over her tightly bound hair, "Mr. Weasley said he had a bicycle, did he not?"
"That's...brilliant, Hermione. But what about me? I can't ride a bike,"
"You'll sit on the handlebars," Hermione beamed at him as she patted Snuffles head and tossed their rucksack over her back, "you'll hold Crookshanks, I'll pedal and Snuffles here can run along side. We'll make better progress that way. Then we can try and find a better ride in town,"
"Sounds good,"
Soon enough, Harry was following Hermione out of the Weasley house and into the yard. It was pitch dark outside, and Harry could barely see anything. But soon, a dim light appeared in front of him, "you're glowing, Hermione," Harry whispered, noting the light was at the tip of her outstretched wand, "what is that?"
"It's a lumos, Harry. It was in Merlin's Book of Spells. I'll teach you later. Do you think this is it?"
Hermione raised her wand to reveal the crooked looking building which was practically falling over,
"Probably. Think it's locked?"
"Only one way to find out," Hermione reached out and tried the door, sighing in relief as it gave her little trouble and creaked open. Sitting inside, leaned against one wall, was Mr. Weasley's 'two wheeled contraption'. Rolling it out towards the dirt path, Harry scooped up Crookshanks and eyed the narrow handlebars critically. Shouldn't we be wearing helmets or something?
"It's easier then it looks, Harry," Hermione insisted, throwing a leg over the seat, "go on, just hold on tight and let me do the rest,"
I'd trust her either way, Harry thought, carefully hoisting himself up to sit where Hermione had instructed, she always knows what she's doing. And indeed she did. Soon, Harry held out his arm, producing the lumos Hermione had verbally trained him to create with his wand. His black bangs were ruffling in the wind, and Snuffles was happily huffing along beside them, keeping easy pace as Hermione pedaled with all her might. Eventually, they stopped to take a rest by the edge of the dirt road, for the Burrow was no longer in sight,
"That was amazing," Harry said, not holding back on his hug to Hermione as he squeezed her with a brilliant smile, "it's like I was flying,"
"Wait till you learn how to ride it yourself, Harry," Hermione breathed exhaustedly in the dark, patting Snuffles head as he panted and happily trotted about her feet, "your lumos was great,"
"Only cause of you," Harry said. Always because of you. "Did you learn any more spells?"
"None that would be of use now," Hermione admitted, "the lumos was pretty simple, as is the Alohamora which can unlock doors. I thought they would be most useful for beginners like us. That, and if we could do a bit of magic, we'd be less noticeable as muggleborns,"
"Did Mr. Weasley say that?" Harry asked, feeling Crookshanks rub up against his leg as the pair walked close together in the night time darkness. The moon was nearly full, producing a light bright enough to faintly see the street. Rolling the bike between them, Hermione made a movement with her shoulders,
"I was learning the spells anyway, but Mr. Weasley said it was noticeable, especially since we are both Hogwarts age. It doesn't really matter to you though, Harry, since you're technically a half-blood wizard,"
"I definitely don't feel any different then you," he admitted, rubbing his scar which still pulsed slightly from the nightmare. Glancing at Hermione, a frown flicked onto his lips. He remembered the way she was pushed, how she fell down but never hit the grass. Looking at her now though, she appeared ethereal. Her milky skin glowed bright in the moonlight, and her dark eyes cast deep indigo shadows across her cheeks. But Hermione was slouched slightly. She probably hasn't gotten any sleep since yesterday afternoon. Harry thought, reaching out to cover her hands with his own on the handlebars. She glanced up, and Harry spoke, "you're tired, 'Mione. Let me try and ride it,"
There was a small noise of concern as Hermione stopped walking to frown,
"But its dark Harry. You'll fall right over,"
"Then sit and let me walk you."
Harry resisted his urge to reach out and brush one of Hermione's ringlets away from her cheek, "You're dead on your feet. I'm not tired at all, I can push you till we find the town,"
"Are-are you sure?"
Nodding, Harry smiled,
"Sure I'm sure. You wont be as tired once I learn how to ride this thing. But I can at least help out,"
"That's very noble of you, Harry," Hermione mumbled, a smile in her voice as she pulled her cloak about herself and scooped up Crookshanks. Carefully, she balanced on the narrow seat side saddle as Harry pushed, and kept the bike balanced using his hands. Not only did Hermione get to rest, but he got to feel helpful. By the time the sun was peeking up over the horizon, Harry and Hermione were walking side by side again, staring down from a knoll in the road at a sleepy little village. It wasn't much, just a few shops on either side of the street, a post office, and a few larger looking homes. The scene though was almost unreal looking, like something on a postcard. Hermione whispered something about beauty, yawned, and the two continued on down the hill without another word.
Ottery, the town Harry supposed, was barely awake. The shutters on the stores were closed, and the post office appeared empty, so Harry and Hermione collapsed down onto the curb with their familiars for a rest. They broke a loaf of bread and cheese to share, and nibbled their breakfast in silence. Harry gave Snuffles a bit of bread which he wolfed down, and Crookshanks happily found his own food by way of the street gutter. Hermione was slightly repulsed by this, but shook it off as she leaned on Harry and closed her eyes. Stroking her hair, he sighed and looked around. They couldn't wait around for long incase the Weasley's decided to come looking. If he was thinking like Hermione - he certainly hung around her enough for that - Ottery was the first place someone would come searching for them. We should have never told Mr. Weasley where we were headed, Harry complained in his mind, glancing down at Hermione who had fallen into a blissfully light slumber. I can't let anything happen to her. So preoccupied with his own thoughts, Harry didn't even notice the mule pulled wagon which had come into town. So when a voice addressed them from above, both Harry and Hermione jolted to alertness,
"Wotcher', lads," the narrow looking man said from the top of his cart, lifting a strange looking hat from his head. He was an odd sight indeed, guiding a wagon, but wearing a full suit and tie with his hat, "you didn't happen to see a Crumple-Horned Snorkack run through here, have you?"
"A what?" Hermione asked, rubbing her eyes tiredly as the man in the wagon nodded enthusiastically,
"The Snorkack. I had one in my possession to take to a friend of mine, but it seems to have gotten away from me,"
"We haven't seen any sort of creature run through here, sir, sorry," Harry stated, patting Snuffle's head as the man sighed heavily,
"Awe nuts, I suppose the Lovegoods will be mighty disappointed. Say, what are two young people like you doing out here alone?"
"We're traveling," Harry state simply, "just stopped to take a rest,"
"Traveling you say? Well, if you help me look for my creature, I'll give you lot a ride on my wagon. I need some extra eyes to spot the Snorkack, its very tricky you know,"
Harry glanced at Hermione, who merely shrugged in return. Hauling their bike up into the wagon, followed by Snuffles, Crookshanks and themselves, the man flicked the reigns and the cart started moving. Soon, the small town of Ottery was left behind, leaving large expanses of farming fields,
"Start looking where you can children!" The man called out happily, "I'm Scamander by the way, or Mr. Scamander if you'd prefer. But keep a sharp eye out! That Snorkack could be anywhere!"
Glancing to Hermione again, she only giggled as Harry knitted his brows confusedly. What did a Crumple-Horned Snorkack look like anyway?
