I do not own Harry Potter or Firebreather, no matter how much I may want to.

Somehow, with all his running and hiding, he had managed to avoid all of the muggles amalgamating into whispering groups around the area of his house.

Past the numerous fire engines, out of the cul-de-sac, and over a couple of fences. Once past that point, he had no idea where to go. His only instinct was to get away from the scene of the crime. He was in real trouble this time-but- then again, when wasn't he in real trouble.

His whole life had been dealing with the shit life had thrown at him one after another. So, he'd have been more surprised at this point if anything went according to plan, or without a hitch.

Like that stupid plan to use the Sirius's gift. He had only wanted a backup plan, something to pull out of his metaphorical hat should shit hit the fan. And look how that went. He was up shit creek without a paddle.

Or more accurately, a freaky purple draconic long haired guy running half naked through the streets of Surrey. That would draw attention even in the wizarding world, but if he really thought about it, they seemed to be just the same as the muggle world in things that they don't understand. If they can't understand it, then it must be feared, hated or controlled, and if you cannot control it, then it must be destroyed. But that seemed to be just human nature, one of intolerance. But it really wasn't up to him to condemn others, not when he had made mistakes of his own.

There were people he could have saved, but was unable to, and their deaths would weigh heavy on his soul.

Shaking his head, he looked around, finding himself on the outskirts of living areas, a sparse forest lay before him. Trees were scattered haphazardly, as if some time ago, some giant had plucked bunches of trees from the group, leaving them scattered in unusual groups of two to three.

On the other side, came rustling as two other figures walked out from a shield of twisting branches, leaves drooping. Tawny hair billowed behind a face made of stone, eyes yellow pebbles in the creases of his face. They shone with determination, and confidence. Behind him stood two other people, one tall, lanky, and orange haired, face dotted by freckles, and eyeing the ground around him with scorn that masked a deep uneasiness. The last he was barely visible, even in the moonlit evening. The only thing he could see were dark small spheres of dark bleary blue.

His first instinct was to stay out of sight, so he dove out of view, plowing headfirst into a pile of leaves in a dry powdery ditch. Just out of sight of the wizards ahead of him. They hadn't seen him yet, though he could see their eyes roving from one side to the next, only to double back as if to catch a hasty movement. Every sway of a tree branch had their wands instantly focused on it- ready for trouble.

They stopped, and the Minister of Magic took up the head of the group, while the other man, hood hiding his face from sight, save for those … dead looking eyes, and took a rear position guarding the backs of the other two. They younger red head had a quill and book tucked into his side, satchel swaying a too and forth a bit before he steadied it with a slightly trembling hand. The other clutched a wand grip tightening so that even from this distance he could see the white knuckles standing out against the rest of the skin. The Minister brought out his wand, and the man from behind moved to the front, speaking silently, spell-words winding silently into the air. They continued this for a few minutes, every so often pointing in a different direction. Searching…. Searching?

The defensive position, the obvious nervousness, it just screamed that they were ready for a confrontation. Did they know what had happened to him?

Why else would they be so nervous?! He didn't even know what had happened to him! All that he did know, was that he was a lot more capable than he used to be.

Heh, he kind of accomplished what he was setting out to, in rather twisted and unwanted way.

Eyes turned his way.

Okay. Okay, no reason to panic. Maybe they are just out taking a walk, just the Minister and his lackeys wandering out in a dark potentially dangerous forest- who am I kidding.

He was pretty sure that the only thing warranting the minister's attention, not to be arrogant, was most likely his earlier incident. He wasn't sure how they could have known, whether it be through the muggle news, or some kind of magical tracking spell. Hell, at this point it would be stranger if they hadn't noticed, and here he'd thought that they would've left him alone for bigger fish.

The Minister's wand glowed a bright white, pointing in his direction, while the other man's shimmered an ominous crimson.

They both talked, and then spoke quietly amongst themselves for a moment before a bit of an argument, and then finally after what seemed like hours, the Minister stepped forward.

"… Harry?" this was tentative, unsure.

Should he get away now, while he had the chance? He peered out of his hiding place in the ditch, eyes creeping up just above the line of dirt, only to find what seemed like death staring straight into his own. He froze. The man stared immobile and he could only wait until he announced his find to the group- but then his eyes moved on.

He slowly turned towards the Minister, freezing every time the man might eye him again, but he was safe.

"Harry, I- we know you are there." He paused, waiting for some kind of response head slightly turned towards his hiding place.

"I saw what happened to the muggle- your relative's house." Then he raised his voice a little, "I can help you. I can fix the house, erase everyone's memories! I can make it so that you can go back to your old life!"

There was no way that he would do that, would he? For free? There had to be a catch.

"I can even help with that monster that caused all of this mess! The man behind me? It's Walden Macnair, he works with the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures! He can find and kill any magical creature out there, even the one that is hunting you!"

Oh. That wasn't good. He wasn't being chased, as far as he knew, and for some reason he could tell, there was nothing chasing those than the group across from him (though something weird was happening on the left) so the other logical conclusion was….. that they didn't know that Harry Potter and that mysterious creature were one and the same.

"All it would take… is your help. The Ministry is fighting a losing battle, every day, we find out that more and more of us are on the other side.- but with you! Morale would rise! People would fight in your name! To know that they chosen one was on their side, that they were in the right! Winning would become a feasible goal- rather than some pipe-dream!"

He had to visibly calm himself, his eyes had garnered a bit of a crazed glint, and his arms had been gesticulating wildly, he looked as if he had been teetering on the edge of sanity, right and ready to take the plunge.

Harry knew that he couldn't afford to wait all night… and as time was passing, he noticed that they weren't going to leave anytime soon. He started to stand knees creaking a bit due to staying in the same position for so long.

And suddenly, there came a rustle off to his left, tree limbs willingly parting to reveal…

Surprise! You'll have to wait until the next chapter!

BTW:

In OOTP, Walden Macnair actually got his eye poked by Neville with Hermione's wand, and was presumably captured and sent to Azkaban. Here, he was actually thought to be on the side of the Ministry during the battle, rather than the Death Eaters and was therefore exempt from a prison sentence. So, his presence in the chapter makes it a bit AU, but I couldn't resist putting him in.

Thanks for reading.

Have a nice day.