Green Eyes
By: Hobblefoot.11
Anything ITALIC is a flashback
A/N: From now on when I put a "!" in it means it is two different flashbacks or breaks or timelines or different places.
Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my older sister, who (although she's not a member of ) reads this story and encourages me. She was married two years ago today. Love you Daphne!
Chapter Four:
"I... I didn't realise there was a chance he might still have it." Lily sobbed, sitting on the loveseat with James in Dumbledore's office, her head buried in his chest.
Ariel sat in the opposite side of the room, fidgeting nervously. The adults seemed to have all but forgotten her.
"We need you to tell us everything about that bracelet." Dumbledore commanded gently.
James spoke, as his distressed wife seemed to have no intention of doing so. "We gave him the bracelet on his seventh birthday. You remember how he was always running off on his own in Diagon Alley." A brief, straggled laugh escaped Lily.
"Harry has to tap it twice with his finger and whisper domus. It's Latin for 'home'. The bracelet is designed to take him straight into the manor living room."
Dumbledore turned to Ariel. "Miss Potter, can you explain everything that you saw in your vision?"
The twelve year old girl shifted in her chair, then began to tell her story.
"Harry was in a club. With a bunch of older men," She started hesitantly. "He was dancing with them, and then this blonde man came over... then they were in this room, and the blonde man was kissing Harry, and Harry was fighting him. Then all of a sudden Harry was somewhere else, on this street."
"Is that everything?" Dumbledore questioned.
Ariel nodded mutely.
"Can you describe what he looked like, Miss Potter?"
She closed her eyes and concentrated on the flashes she had seen. "Well... he was older. He looked a lot older then fifteen, and he had long hair. I didn't get a very good look at him." She admitted.
!
Hayden had been walking for almost three hours, still pondering the occurrence. He was still unsure about what had happened. All he knew was when he disappeared from the blonde mans house, he had somehow managed to land himself in a place he now knew as Sheffield, England. He thanked whatever gods there might be that he hadn't managed to land himself across the ocean or something, but he assumed the teleportation must have some kind of limit.
He wanted to go back to the Snake, but was afraid that the blonde man might come looking for him, and use David to get to him. Hayden and David never had much of a relationship, but the man had taken Hayden in when he was in need, and he couldn't do anything that might put him in danger. He mentally berated himself for telling his would-be rapist his name, but he had told many men at the bar before, and this had never happened before. After the first year of working at the Snake, the regulars seemed to know he was untouchable, and of course he could defend himself.
Hayden wondered if his new found powers could help him, if he could teleport, who knew what else he could do?
He idly kicked the pebbles under his feet as he walked, oblivious to the world around him, his thoughts drifted back to this power he possessed. Could it help him? But did he want it? He needed to find someone else like him, someone else with the power to explain it to him.
He paused in the outskirts of London and went into a small coffee shop. Inside he followed the signs to the washroom, and on the way, swiped some poor man's wallet from his back pocket. Hayden had picked many pockets over the years, but less often since his 'employment' at The Snake. He had been afraid he would get caught, but the man continued to walk out of the store, oblivious.
In the bathroom, he went into one of the two stalls and bolted the door. He sat down on top of the closed toilet seat and opened the black leather wallet. The ID read John Griffin. There was a license inside it as well. He found forty dollars cash tucked inside and pocketed it. The teen left the rest of the wallet untouched and set it on the toilet paper dispenser. As helpful as a license would be, it wouldn't do to be caught with any stolen ID on him.
Hayden peeked under the door to verify he was alone and then held his right hand up. He concentrated on the energy he had felt last night, pulling it into his out-stretched palm. Hayden could feel it sizzling under his skin.
It bubbled and cracked in his fingertips.
"Rise," He commanded confidently, feeling rather stupid, pointing at the wallet.
Nothing happened. The green eyed boy dropped his hand, strangely disappointed.
He moved the wallet to hang on the single hook on the back of the stall door and outstretched his hand again.
Getting to his feet, Hayden once again concentrated on moving all of the tingling power to his hand.
"Rise," He whispered again, and there was a loud groan and the sound of breaking metal, and the door pulled free from the hinges and started to float higher, until it banged loudly against the low ceiling.
"Shit!" Hayden yelled, dropping his hand.
Immediately the metal door crashed to the ground, the noise making his jump backwards. He swore under his breath and darted quickly over the rubble and out the swinging door.
No one paid him any attention as he slipped out of the shop unnoticed.
Out on the streets again was a different story. His clothes from last night at the club did not stand a chance at blending in, and many people turned his way. His lack of coat or sweater in the chilly October morning did not go unnoticed either. He ducked his head, and walked wearily through the streets, the forty dollars burning in his pocket, promising a sweater and a warm meal, and too the homeless teen, that was more than enough for now.
But although his outburst of power in the bathroom was not linked to him by anyone at the coffee shop, little did Hayden know that at that very moment, a large eared house elf had just appeared before his master, telling Lucius Malfoy about a large surge of power, with Hayden's magical signature.
And in a large stone castle, where a distressed family of three was being consoled by Albus Dumbledore, one of said man's underage magical detectors started whirring.
And in a small enclosed room, a self-writing quill wrote out a warning for the use of underage magic, and sent it via owl, placing a copy upon the minister's desk for verification.
And so the search for Harry James Potter began once again.
AN. God, feel free to hate me. I am such a horrible person for making you guys wait this long for this chapter, but I just didn't feel like writing lately. Anyways, I think Green Eyes is one of my more popular stories, so I posted a chapter for that. I've been working on two other storiesThe Potion's Masters Daughter, and one called A Dragon's Pain, that I hope to post on soon, but I wanted to write several chapter for each one before I started posting them, so my already posted stories are taking a bit longer. Apologies all around! Hope the ending to this chapter didn't piss you guys off too much. Lol.