Chapter 4:

Harry awoke the next morning in one of his worst predicaments yet. He was sore, bruised, covered in dirt and leaves, and sporting a rough headache to top it off. The sun had just peeked over the horizon, its rays shining directly on Harry's eyes.

He groaned as he sat up. Currently, he was in a bush. Pieces of it were poking into him. He could see a spider bite on his arm. A quick look around confirmed that this place had probably been used before by other homeless people. There was trash, random bits of tarps and tents, and all manner of junk surrounding him.

Hedwig pecked him in concern and laid a dead rat on his body. While he was flattered by the gesture, he was not eating a dead rat. Harry stroked Hedwig's feathers and cooed, "I'm fine girl, sorry for giving you a scare by doing something stupid."

Even though Harry felt very unintelligent as a result of his blunder, Harry reasoned that it was probably a good thing for him to learn this lesson now. Even though he got beat down, he still had his trunk, his knife, his clothes, and his life. While an unfortunate setback, his plan had not failed yet.

However, it really put his life into perspective. Yes, Harry had risked his life every year at Hogwarts, but, after the main confrontation, Harry had always woken up in the hospital wing. Being healed by Madam Pomfrey had always been one of Harry's least favorite things. He felt very uncomfortable even walking past the medical wing. After waking up a dirty bruised mess, a warm bed and professional healing seemed positively delightful by comparison. He had traded security for freedom. Every mistake made was ultimately Harry's fault now. As a result, He could not afford to be unnecessarily reckless any longer. Harry thought he had learned his lesson from Sirius's death, however, it was clear he needed to reassess.

Harry stumbled to his feet, and the knee on his left leg jolted him. It seemed to Harry that the day was just getting better and better. He started limping southbound, every step was uncomfortable at best. Thankfully, his illusion was firmly in place. As he left the planter area, Harry could see morning runners, and many cars commuting to work. His illusion immediately became more of a chore to maintain. While annoying, Harry definitely expected it. He looked like hell, and probably didn't smell very good either. It made sense that it would take more power and concentration to fool the muggles around him. What he didn't expect was the constant flickering in the focus and concentration demands every step he took. He needed to get out of here.

Hedwig gave him one last look before flying majestically back into the sky to forage and not draw attention to him. If only he could join her. Harry was glad she was here with him, though his heart ached for his Friends as well. The reality of the lonely road he had chosen was all too apparent now.

Last night's failure brought another problem to Harry's attention. He needed a new method of travel. Running excessively fast had its benefits: The mobility could be helpful in a fight if he had more mastery over the ability, and he enjoyed the experience until his untimely crash. The main downside was that he was stuck in two dimensions. Just like in the third task for the Triwizard Tournament, Harry had not been able to go over buildings or obstacles. Because he was sharing space in a densely populated area, running on the ground left him vulnerable to surprise attacks, or simple mistakes.

Harry came across a densely populated intersection. His concentration was stressed even further. He was diving, ducking, and weaving through the crowded walkway. Bumping into someone could break his cover and really ruin his morning. If his magic failed, the bystanders would most certainly be drawn to him because all his non magical deception was not in effect. He did not naturally fit in: he was dirty, smelly, and beat up. They may assume he was homeless, and would most likely ignore him. However, if a magical user came through checking memories, they could recognize him.

The answer to his dilemma was obvious but far out of reach simultaneously. He needed to fly. He currently had no money, so using muggle transport was more risky. Every interaction he had was further risking his detection. A spare memory from someone like that hostess could spell disaster for someone on his tail, or a bus driver seeing through his spell and kicking him off. As evidenced by the previous night, running had its faults. Walking would be simply too slow. It could take months to walk down to Spain and into the Picos de Europa national park.

He didn't have all the time in the world. Harry couldn't abandon Britain forever. If the prophecy was true, his absence would guarantee Voldemort's success. Given enough time to solidify his rule, toppling Voldemort's reign could prove even more impossible than it seemed right now. Even though Dumbledore was alive and actively opposing Voldemort, how long would he still live?

However, flying was not that easy. Harry gave his broom to Ginny last year after being banned from quidditch. Additionally, Harry was not aware of a convenient thestral or hippogriff waiting around for Harry to bum a ride. He didn't let this discourage him though. Brooms were just an enchanted piece of wood. Wingardium Leviosa was one of the most basic charms they learned and mastered in their first year. In fourth year Harry had learned how to fly items to himself like a homing beacon with accio. It most certainly was possible. Harry just had to figure out how to use his magic to propel himself without outside assistance. A task easier said than done.

His progress was slow and steady. Every once and awhile when the opportunity presented itself, he'd snatch a drink here, some food there. The individual acts were not bothering him as much anymore, but rather that he was growing accustomed to stealing. The targets were starting to matter less too. At first Harry justified his actions because he was stealing from large corporate entities and the government, which had done him no favors. The people he was stealing from now had never wronged him. Strictly speaking, his behavior from the start had been unethical. Currently, that did not sit well with Harry. What if he was just selfish, and willing to take from others for his own desires? Quickly, Harry moralized that his mission was of critical importance, and these actions were necessary for the Wizarding world. His excuse felt hollow in his chest. Was he okay with being unethical? This cognitive dissonance irked Harry, and he forced his thoughts to other things.

The previous night, he had sprinted in all random directions, more caught up in his magic than the world around him. Deciding on a smarter approach, Harry went to a bookstore. Despite having a very limited understanding of French, Harry was able to find maps after looking through a few sections. Conveniently, they had exactly what he needed. A road map of France. Harry felt a bit embarrassed that he hadn't he hadn't done this initially. Instead of vaguely traveling south, he could see the fastest route to Spain. Harry stared at the map for a second, focusing his occlumency, to create a special significance to this map so he could remember it perfectly.

That settled, Harry slowly made his way over to the Rite de Coulogne, on to the D127, taking Harry out of the city and into the farmland filled countryside. This part of France wasn't even close to the population density of London. He was able to get out of Calais with about an hour of walking, and out of the remaining suburbs within another.

The French countryside was beautiful. In every direction Harry was surrounded by farmland and low density housing. The sun warmly beamed above Harry in the sky as he walked along the Canal de Calais à Guìnes. Compared to the depression of Surrey and the indifference of London, this peaceful lower energy environment was a welcome change of pace. As much as he just wanted to take it easy and enjoy himself for a bit, his stiff leg jolted him, reminding himself of his mistakes, and his lack of time. If there was a peaceful ending to this path, Harry would happily take a vacation to France.

The river flowed vaguely southeast, calm and serene. In between the small towns of GuÎnes and Hardinghen was the Forêt Domaniale de GuÎnes, a forest network of pine, oak, and beech trees. Harry needed some cover, a place with more privacy and freedom from prying eyes so he could recover. Stolen food was still food, and he fueled himself all the same.

As he walked closer to the trees, he could feel the effort and concentration put into his magical disguise lifting. Once he entered the treeline, there was a general feeling of relief not to be easily visible. Once he could see nothing around him but forest, he stopped and sat next to the trunk of a medium sized tree. Thankfully, his leg was not broken or seriously injured. However, every step jolted him, slowed down his speed, and made concentration more difficult.

Harry needed to do something to resolve this. Healing was never his strong suit. He never possessed the precision of Madam Pomfrey nor the bedside manner. He thought about all the information he knew, using his improving occlumency to draw all the relevant information for him to reason through.

Magical healing is multi-faceted. The two most common are healing spells and potions. The major upside to healing spells is that they are easy, quick, and cheap to perform in the field and cover most basic injuries and annoyances, however, they relied on the caster's proficiency in the spell. Under the influence of drugs or alcohol or duress in the case of a battlefield scenario, or even incompetence could not only fail to solve the problem but make the injury worse. All of the bones in his arm disappearing courtesy of Lockhart played unfavorably in Harry's head. On the other hand, the main advantage to healing potions is that they are capable of much more complicated and deep injuries. while not relying on the spellwork of an individual at the moment. Instead, it was based on the competence of the potion maker. The fact that the polyjuice potion was brewed perfectly by such an inexperienced student in a bathroom really showed how truly smart and capable Hermione was. However, none of them had the magical prowess to magical tranfigure themselves in the same way during second year or even years later into their education.

Granted, Harry did not have any potions regardless, so the point was moot. Magical healing was possible through spellwork, which meant that Harry could probably manipulate his magic to perform a similar function. As he recently assessed, his legs weren't technically injured, so this was child's play compared to the potential complexity that he may be forced to in the future. Harry relaxed his mind and body, drawing within himself. The sensations of the bark faded against his skin. Instinctively, Harry gathered and focused his magic in a way that was becoming more natural every day. He pushed a large portion onto his left knee, generally thinking, Make me feel better. His magic fed into his knee at a much faster speed than his disguise, or his physical enhancements. There almost appeared to be magical steam rising off his knee.

After about 30 seconds, he could feel the easing of his knee until it no longer hurt. It felt completely normal. Physically, he was perfect. Magically, he was feeling the drain from that rather simple healing. He spent more energy in those 30 seconds than he had today using his disguise. Based on the magical exhaust, Harry had a good idea why. His magic was extremely inefficient at healing. However, there were many factors he had to take into consideration. His intent was not very specific. Perhaps having a better understanding of human biology and the specific action he wanted to perform would make this process more efficient. Maybe the way he focused his energy and guided his magic was incorrect for this process. Harry didn't know, but he wondered if people had specific affinities, or if magic was neutral.

It frustrated and excited him to explore magically. While magic violates many of the laws of physics or what muggles think is possible, it is scientific. Magic has its own properties, and obeys its rules in a logic humans struggle to understand. Having such an intimate feel for his magic and not being able to rely on others, made these subtleties all the more relevant and interesting to Harry.

Harry would just have to experiment and improve through experience. There was another task of equal importance ahead of him. He was covered in dirt and he smelled like body odor. He desperately needed a shower. Jumping into the nearby canal was not ideal, because then he would have to dry himself. That could take more magical power and concentration then attempting a solution more in line with a scourgify spell. Magic could expel or make particles disappear to clean objects or people. He could do something similar.

Harry redoubled his focus in his meditative state. Based on the previous experience with healing, Harry focused his intent more clearly and directly. He thought of every foreign particle on his body, and all the sweat in his armpits, and his genitals. Sharply, he could clearly feel every particle of sand and every drop of sweat. He layered a magic blanket over himself, touching every piece he could feel. Once he had his sample size, Harry squeezed the blanket, and imagined everything caught in his web be banished from existence. The magic blanket dissolved into nothingness. Harry couldn't feel a single particle on his body.

He focused some magic into his nose, heightening his sense of smell briefly. Completely neutral. There was no scent on his body, positive or negative. At the same time, he didn't feel clean in the same way after a shower. The experience was disconcerting, but maybe could come in handy to escape or fight dogs and werewolves. If he could remove a scent, could he replicate another artificially? Harry also wondered at other practical applications. Could he shave, cut his hair, trim his fingernails, or remove waste directly from his bladder or intestinal tract using a similar method? Toilet paper wasn't exactly something he had an abundance of. Taking care of personal maintenance was paramount under the circumstances.

Speaking of which, nature was calling. Harry repeated the process but instead focused on removing all the urine and fecal matter from his body. His magic flowed down his stomach heightened the sensation in all his organs, a uniquely uncomfortable experience. To end the discomfort, Harry dissolved the magic coursing through him. The need to urinate and defecate disappeared completely. Harry had never felt so clean and empty inside. He would never need to wipe his ass again in his lifetime unless he chose to. He would just have to get used to the discomfort of the process since it was so convenient and useful.

Harry opened his eyes. Above the trees, he could see the sun had moved decently far. A few hours had gone by in the time it took to accomplish those few tasks. He needed to improve drastically in the speed department. In many ways, Harry felt like drowning in an ocean when trying to decipher the limits of his abilities. Magic had nearly limitless growth potential for utilitarian or more flashy and complex purposes.

Harry found his way back to the road that cut through the forest, and continued on his way to the southeast. This time, looking clean with a spring in his step. Harry passed through the east side of Fiennes, looking forward, without making eye contact and walking as quickly as possible without attracting attention. Thankfully, the work he had done earlier had really paid off. Now that he looked normal and less obtrusive, the concentration requirement to disguise himself was remarkably low. Of the few people out and about at this time in the afternoon. Their eyes slipped right off him like water on oil. Maintaining his speed walking, Harry made swift progress through Hardinghen, Le Wast, and Alincthun along the D127. It took him just over 3 hours to make it to the Forêt Domaniale de Desvres. The city just to the south of the expansive forest, naturally, was Desvres. Unlike the many small communities he had been passing through the entire day of walking, Desvres was another large city similar to Calais.

It was sunset. In the treeline, Harry couldn't make out much more than the orange hue lining the sky. Harry was tired, and the darkness was going to make it difficult. After his embarrassment in Calais, Harry was more interested in spending the night alone in the forest rather than wandering around an unfamiliar city at night. After walking about 20 minutes along the D127 into the forest, and a quick glance making sure no one was observing, Harry made a sharp turn east into the forest. Based on the map, even if he lost his sense of direction in the forest, that would be easiest. If he headed west in the morning, he would find the D127 again. If he headed east, he would meet up with the D253. If he went south, He would enter Desvres anyway. The only direction that would be subpar would be northbound. Three out of four times, He would have no issue. One out of four, He would be inconvenienced an hour or two of his time.

While finding his way in the morning would not be a major issue, Harry still needed a place to lay his head for the night. He was slightly thirsty and hungry, but he could survive the night without, even if it would be uncomfortable. He was not sure what animals roamed the forest, but He didn't want anything munching on him in the night. Climbing a tree would probably be his best bet. Any animals or people who may have been walking around would be unlikely to look up. That would increase his security from none to a tiny bit. Unfortunately, this would also be uncomfortable. With that plan settled, Harry had another task before a long night.

His plans for magical flight were of the utmost importance. Any progress he made on foot would be pointless compared to the long distances he could travel in the sky. Being without his broom turned out to be a massive inconvenience. However, the applications of what he was planning would give a return on investment. This time specifically, Harry wanted to make the extra effort to think through. Instead of focusing on just flying first and figuring out the growing pains later, Harry wanted a holistic and realistic view of the tertiary components at play. After a while, Harry came to a solid conclusion. Obviously, He could not afford any more simple mistakes. He would have to cover all his bases. For example, He was going to need a way to 'stick' himself to his surroundings. He was unsure how much energy it would take to hover or actively fly, but being able to stop by clinging to the environment like it was his first time learning to ice skate would make him feel a bit safer. Additionally, Harry felt it was prudent to focus on slowing down and landing before attempting to fly quickly and perform wild maneuvers like his very first attempt at a broom.

Harry felt nostalgic at the thought. It felt like yesterday and forever ago at the same time when Draco Malfoy stole Neville's remembrall and goaded Harry into performing a prophetic catch that Harry was sure his dad would be ecstatic to witness. At the time Harry was just focused on his righteous anger and his worry about getting in trouble. Looking back, Harry couldn't help but applaud and deride his younger self. That was absolutely reckless and he really could have broken his neck or seriously harmed himself, but upstaging Malfoy so publicly felt amazing. As a bonus, He was then rewarded by getting to join the team and learn about his father. Like cold steel, his nostalgia was cut by the reality of his current situation. Reckless disregard for his personal safety was not possible anymore. No one was going to heal him or save him should he misstep or make a fatal error. He needed to be absolutely thorough with his approach.

One thing Harry was certain he needed to pay attention to was exactly how much magical energy and concentration it required to focus his energy to fly. His attempts so far had shown him that while he was able to do many different skills, they all needed to improve drastically. His attempt to heal himself was a lesson in efficiency. Flying a broom didn't strain his magical reserves as it was enchanted on its own, but Harry was under no illusions about flying using magic alone. Nothing could be worse than being high in the sky and losing concentration or the strain becoming too great causing him to fall to his death for a rather anticlimactic end to the prophecy.

Harry found a tree he liked. Sufficiently wide base, strong branches for support, and good leaf cover. All that remained was to climb to his bed for the night. This was the perfect opportunity to test how he would go about sticking to surfaces and perching.

Harry focused the magic within himself, forced it to his palms and gathered his intent to stick. Once he felt ready, he put his hands against the trunk. Satisfyingly, he could feel his magic latch and dig in like a barbed arrow. To test, he tried to withdraw his hands and found them completely bound to the trunk. Next, he focused on releasing the energy in his right hand. Immediately, he could feel the adhesive retreat at the same rate the energy left. Now his hand was more like velcro, then down to wet glue, and finally until nothing bound it to the trunk.

Very slowly and very carefully, Harry arduously climbed the tree with his hands and feet, always keeping three points of contact, with his palms and the tips of his feet. Every time he spent much of his focus flowing the power and manually pushing it in and pulling it out. This too, would need much practice before it became second nature. If anything broke his concentration, he would tumble to the ground and look like a fool. He was slow and could not concentrate on using his magic for any other purpose. If he was attacked, he would be a sitting duck. However, this first attempt still worked for what he needed. Harry climbed into the branches and found one big enough that he trusted to hold his weight and give him enough room to sleep.

Hedwig flew down into the canopy and perched next to him. Her head cocked and her eyes pierced him with intensity. She really was more intelligent than a mere mail owl. The nuances of flight plagued his thoughts as he stroked her feathers and fell asleep, But not before concentrating his magic into his bum to stick him to the tree and avoid falling out during the night.

Authors Note

Thank you to anyone who reads this story. If you have a critique or ideas, or you just want to say you enjoyed the story, Please comment and let me know. So far I only have 9 but I have read them all. And Stevem1 thanks for the critique and praise on every chapter. I have now graduated college and got married so on one hand, I should have some more time to dedicate to this story, but I am also changed from 2 years ago when I started this. Most everything is headed in the same direction, but I changed my mind on a few things. I'm hoping chapter 5 will be a much shorter wait than 2 years but time is passing quickly these days.

Chapter 3 Responses.

Nauro Redcliff chapter 3 . Sep 26, 2021

Interesting premise. I am looking forward

To more.

Thank you, It has been years now, but I have not abandoned this story, I hope you enjoy chapter 4.

stevem1 chapter 3 . Sep 26, 2021

Excellent chapter.

Harry has to improve his ability to perceive if he's going to be dashing at Olympic level speeds through crowded cities. Or reserve such movements for open areas. Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. And with CCTV everywhere, being a regular recurring Olympic level blur will only attract attention, even if he's doing it disguised.

I was interested in the thought that his newfound abilities would have assisted him in the second task. It would have. The longest a human has held his breath underwater is 24 minutes plus. The deepest underwater dive without oxygen assistance is 200 plus meters. Neither was actively swimming. The deepest diver survived but suffered a brain injury. But with magic, and practice, Harry would probably improve on those numbers while still being active.

I am really enjoying the tone of this story. It feels like Harry Potter is in the initial stages of becoming a Jason Bourne-esq character. Hope to read more.

Good commentary and thank you for the praise. It took years but now that I graduated college, I am hoping to have more time to dedicate to this story. I have big plans

bittatatat chapter 3 . Nov 9, 2021

Hmm, in my opinion you should turn Harry into a bully instead of making him helpless. I mean the "I don't care anymore and take what I want or die trying" seems best, especially if you consider the possibility of having him bond with Bellatrix over showing some muggles (most likely criminal women) their place. The story has a potential, but at the moment is far from horror.

Thank you for sharing your opinion but this is not the direction I plan on taking his character. The horror will pick up later, 4 chapters in and still this is the introduction. I have big plans for this story. Harry will be powerful but he will not start out perfect at everything. I like the idea of him growing and becoming better overtime.