Chapter 3
Blink
The pain always felt too real. The taste of blood still hovered in his mouth, and the wetness of his 'imagined' wounds seemed to have soaked him from head to toe.
'Damn… Why at a time like this…' Harry thought inwardly.
Blinking rapidly before fully opening his eyes, Harry saw that he was still behind the counter. Turning to the corner by the counter, he was unsurprised to discover the trail of blood in his vision was in fact real. Grabbing the nearest cloth, Harry all but threw himself on the ground and quickly scrubbed away all traces of the blood and rain that were left by the injured Tonks.
After one last check around the shop, Harry was satisfied to find that know all traces of Tonks's arrival was covered. This was not the first time he had experienced one of these realistic visions. They were like daydreams that appear too real until the moment you snap out. During these episodes, he was in his body but he wasn't himself. It was almost as though someone else controlled him and he was the front-seat spectator of the show, a show that is often grim and violent. Harry used to ignore these visions and pretend they never occurred, but he learned to take them more seriously as they often carried inexplicable foresight and truth.
Stepping to the door, Harry was about to bolt it before deciding that it was a bad idea. Even though the inside of the shop was clean, there might be traces outside which would lead the assailants here.
'It would be better for me to confront and lead them off her trail rather than hiding until they discover where we are,' Harry thought.
With the lights on, but dimmed, and the door unlocked, Harry left the counter and took upon himself to repeatedly wipe the front windows, in order to monitor the movements outside.
And so, he waited.
In what seemed like an eternity, three cloaked figures quickly approached the shop from the distance. Harry readied himself in front of the door as the three cloaked individuals steadily got closer. Without hesitation, they violently flung open the door and stepped into the shop. Turning to Harry, the three, to Harry and Tonk's good fortune, stayed near the entrance surrounding Harry, completely unaware of Tonks presence.
"Good s-sirs… the shop is currently closed," Harry said with a practiced stutter, "I was just about to lock up and head home."
The person standing in the middle pulled from his robes a long wooden stick and pointed it at Harry.
"Tell me, boy, where did that little metamorphmagus go?" the hooded figure snarled.
'Metamorphosis... magus?' Harry thought in confusion. Whatever question he was anticipating to answer, that was definitely not one of them. Before he managed to articulate a reply to such a confounding question, the hooded figure to the speakers right swatted his partner.
"He's a bloody muggle you idiot," the person to Harry's left said in irritation. Turning to Harry, he continued, "Did you see a woman wearing a leather cloak head this way? We have... Suggestions that she might have come this way."
Pretending to only slightly perplexed, Harry nodded slowly. "I did see a person walk by the shop only moments ago. Not many people come around to this little street so late at night, so I was surprised when I saw her."
"Did she see what she looked like and where she went?" the one in the middle pressed, wooden stick still raised at Harry.
"Since my light was on, I couldn't really see any details of the things outside, but I did see her continue to the right of the shop and cross the street."
"Muggle, you have served your purpose," the figure in the middle snarled, "AVADA K..."
Before he managed to finish, his hand that held the stick was immediately pulled down by the person on his right.
"You are a bloody idiot. The Killing Curse on a muggle so close to a ministry entrance?" the man said in disbelief.
Harry did not like the threatening tones and he especially didn't like to hear the term 'killing curse' and whatever it might implicate. But nothing they did showed any signs of getting ready to use weapons, although the sticks they held gave Harry a feeling a discomforting familiarity. It felt as though he had seen them in a long forgotten dream.
"Just Obliviate the bloody boy and get it over with. There is no time to lose."
Harry could swear the person standing in the middle grinned at the last remark. He quickly raised the wooden stick again and pointed it to Harry's head.
"Well, since I won't have any fun with you, maybe I will wipe, what... ten years? Obliviate!"
A blinding flash sped from the wooden stick and hit Harry directly on his forehead, with the impact knocking Harry back. As though time had stopped, Harry found himself suspended in free fall. A violent surge of heat erupted from his chest and crashed through every fiber of his body. Harry felt a wave of scorching red energy release from deep within his body, sizzling each cell with excitement. The flush of circulating power didn't hurt him in any way, but his body felt like a pressurized container, one which was about to explode at any given second. In a silent scream, the boy crashed to the ground.
Harry remained conscious, but his scar burst in pain. Never before had he experienced such a reaction from his scar before, and it took all the will to refrain from howling in pain. Trembling violently, he waited until he heard the three sets of footfalls leave the shop before clawing his fingers at his scar. No matter what he did, the throbbing from the scar remained, and it threatened to take the light from Harry's eyes. Realizing nothing that he was doing made the pain any better, he clenched his teeth and ignored the throbbing to slowly sit up.
Although Harry was shocked by what had just happened, he buried his inquiries, seeing as more pressing issues were at hand.
"I'm… so sorry," Tonks sobbed hoarsely from the behind the counter, "It's all because of me."
"No, I'm fine Tonks," Harry forced a smile through the pain as he slowly stumbled his way around the counter, "My head throbs a bit, that's all."
Tonks was wide-eyed and decorated with streaks of tears. She stared at the boy as though he was a miracle.
"How? He… Obliviated you," Tonks whispered between breaths, "You… shouldn't even… know who I am."
Harry squeezed Tonks's hands and slowly helped her to her feet. "Nothing is going to happen to me. You're in a bit of shock. I'd say from the blood loss."
"But Harry..."
"Now is not the time" Harry interjected, worrying about the state of mind of his friend, "Can you walk?"
Tonks paused for a moment, staring into Harry's eyes, but snapped herself back into reality shortly after.
"Your right, we need to get to safety," Tonks strained weakly, "I can limp, but I will need some help. I'm a lot better than before though."
"It's alright, Tonks," Harry said, "I will help you walk. Those three might come back, so it's not a good idea to stay. Let's wait next door in Fisco's pub. I have a spare key. I'll go get the police once you are safe inside."
"No," Tonks said as she leaned onto Harry, wrapping her arm around his shoulder for support, "The police won't come. They have put up muggle repellent and anti... We need to get out of here on our own."
"You lost way too much blood Tonks, I am surprised that they didn't notice the small trail on the floor. You are in no state to try something like that, just wait for the police. "
"Harry, please believe me," Tonks pleaded, "We have to go. Now!"
Harry looked into the desperate yet determined eyes of the girl and nodded. Although he doubted her current physical capabilities, he placed his complete faith in her.
"I believe you, but we have no time to lose. Let's leave from the back exit, it's the opposite direction to where I pointed them, and try to put as much weight on me as you can."
Supporting her by the waist, Harry and Tonks quickly moved to the back of the shop and stepped out into a narrow alleyway. The rain fell gentle but dense, and the street alley was fleeting with water.
"Which way is South?" Tonks whispered.
"Keep following the path."
Tonks nodded and the two maneuvered down the alley, this time slower due to the rain and the wet stone path. The two barely traveled at walking speed, and Tonks's gasp of pain with every limp didn't help their progress.
"We can't keep to this road, there's a dead end next block," Harry whispered as he lifted more of Tonks' weight unto himself.
"I'm feeling better," Tonks wheezed in a strained voice, "You don't have to help me as much. We need to get past the ward boundaries, Harry. Just trust me."
"I trust you Tonks, but none of what you and those people said make any sense, what are ward boundaries?" Harry pressed in concern, "It might be better to seek help and get your wounds treated."
"I…" Tonks scrunched her face, "I can't explain this properly right now. Just please keep heading south. Please, Harry."
Harry nodded and observed the limping girl pressed against him. Her breathing seemed much easier than before, and the pain in her injured leg appeared to be having less of an impact on her walking. The openings of many smaller cuts were surprisingly gone, and, to Harry's confused amazement, her flesh seemed to be regenerating rapidly and her movements were increasingly coordinated.
Barely reaching the next block, Harry heard a loud bang from somewhere behind him and saw a large fizzling red spark arching across the night sky.
"The little muggle shite was helping her all along! They're right there!" Harry heard a voice scream, a far distance behind him.
Suddenly Tonks jerked him to a stop. "Leave me here, Harry," Tonks pleaded, her eyes filled with dread, "They only want me, not you. Go to safety and… send for help. I can handle myself."
Harry looked at her in disbelief and began to drag her forward, pulling all her weight.
"I'm not leaving you here alone. God knows what those bastards will do to you."
"Harry, please... I got into this mess, and I shouldn't have dragged you into it!" Tonks sobbed, "Just let me go. You can't escape those three - especially not with me slowing you down."
"No means no," Harry stated.
Tonks began to protest, but a series of red and violet sparks, missing them by only an inch, kept the words from her mouth. The two instinctively ducked down, and Harry pushed Tonks ahead, putting himself between her and the source of the sparks.
Turning his head back, Harry caught a glimpse of another volley of red flashes coming from the wooden stick one of the assailants was holding before feeling the projectile hitting him directly on his right shoulder. Surprisingly, Harry felt no pain, but the force of impact propelled him off his feet, causing both him and Tonks, who was crouched in front of him, to crash into the wet stony ground.
Knowing the worst was likely about to happen, Harry crawl over Tonks's body and covered her protectively. Hearing a sinister laugh, a rigid boot dug into Harry's side, forcing the air out of Harry's lungs, but he refused to budge from shielding Tonks.
"Would you look at that, the muggle is trying to save the metamorphmagus whore," the man stomping on Harry's back snickered.
Wincing in pain, Harry, with his head pressed firmly against the wet pavement and glasses nowhere to be found, saw two more sets of boots arrive in front of him.
"What do we do with the muggle? We can't kill him right here, can we?"
"I don't see why not; the ministry knows by now."
"Screw the muggle! Take him with us and we dump his body somewhere in a ditch," the man laughed.
"Pity that the master wants the bitch, or we could have had a lot of fun with this one. Little bitch almost cost me my arm."
"They fetch for quite a bit o' gold on the market, but I dun think nobody's want her after our master is done with her."
The three men standing around Harry and Tonks laughed frantically. Hearing their words trembled every muscle in Harry's body. It wasn't fear or disgust that he felt, but a primal flaming rage and instinctive protectiveness which seemed to possess his mind and body.
"Well, I don't see why we need to hand her over right away. Waiting an hour or two won't hurt, as long as she is alive."
"Then let's have some fun," one of the men snickered.
Harry felt another impact on his back and was instantly flung three feet away, face digging into the cold and wet ground. The pain in his scar returned, but this time even stronger than before. Harry felt as though every nerve ending was being bitten by insects burrowing into his skin, and the heat within his chest threatened to explode from the confines of his body. At first, he thought that this was caused by whatever the criminals hit him with, but he came to quickly realize that this was internal. Harry felt the change, like an inexplicable morph of a butterfly bursting from the prison of the chrysalis. After an eternity of scorching in the flames of that internal heat, the unbearable energy suddenly became a gentle warmth, like the touch of a familiar friend, and it seemed to pull on Harry, summoning him deeper into himself.
Grinding painfully against the pavement, Harry turned his head to look at Tonks. His hands shook uncontrollably when he saw Tonks being forcefully pinned down as two of the men, taking pleasure in her struggling and screams, began feverishly tearing away at her clothes. At that moment, Harry felt all the scorching heat that was tormenting him only moments ago gather in the palms of his closed fists, and it continued to gather and grow until Harry's hands felt detached from the rest of the body. Harry opened his palms and directed at Tonk's frantic assailants, and through all his will he pushed and guided the heat out from his palms.
Instantly, two colossal jets of searing orange flames shot from Harry's palms toward the three shocked men and Tonks, whose glazed eyes perfectly reflected the light of the flames. Although blinded by the sudden flash of light, Harry scrambled to his feet and staggered towards Tonks. The boy was shocked by what had just occurred, but he sensed an ethereal connection with the flames: it was as though the two swirling masses of fire were assuring him, whispering to him, and protecting him. Somehow, he knew they will not harm Tonks, and he knew they will not cease until the other three men have fallen.
Not caring about, or even noticing, the fates of the three men, Harry knelt next to Tonks and cradled her protectively.
"I'm here now, Tonks," he whispered into her ear, "You will be safe."
The burning touch of the tightly wrapped arms around Tonks's body cleared her mind and returned her to clarity. Her fear and anguish were extinguished from her body, and the painful trauma had simply vanished.
"Harry, the wards… They are gone! Quick, take the wands!" Tonks urged.
Seeing that she can support herself, Harry released his hold on her and scanned his surrounding. Two wooden sticks, wands as Tonks claimed, like the one pointed at him during the assault, laid motionlessly in a puddle on the ground. Around him, the three flailing men rolled wildly on the wet pavement, desperately attempting to extinguish the almost living flames that coiled and constricted like snakes on their prey. Their cloaks blazed like torches shining in the night, and the blackened smoke escaping from their bodies spread the scent of charred flesh. No matter how hard they tried to put out the fire, it only continued to rage on, consuming their hosts painfully and steadily.
Quickly grabbing the two wands, Harry threw the two potentially powerful weapons to Tonks. The girl expertly snatched one of the two out of the air and reached out and grabbed the second after it had hit the ground.
"Harry, more of those bastards are coming," Tonks said faintly, clearly dazed by her wounds and blood loss, "Grab onto me and please remain calm."
Complying with her orders, Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders tenderly. The boy was expecting to help Tonks off the ground or to carry her in his arms, but nothing in his mind prepared him for what came next.
Crack.
