Chapter Two: Cutting and Running

In what was becoming all too common an occurrence, Harry was awoken the next morning by a searing pain in his scar. This time, the pain was so bad that it actually made his eyes water. He had revisited the graveyard again last night, only this time he hadn't escaped. He'd been subjected to Lord Voldemort's wrath over and over again, and he was forced to listen as the Dark Lord jeered at him with the high, cold laugh that had haunted Harry since his first encounter with a dementor.

A flash of anger shot through him as his night-time visions flashed before his eyes. Harry had never felt so completely helpless; weak, like a frightened child. He grit his teeth at the memory, vowing he'd never feel so powerless again. Almost as if reacting to his thoughts, the pain in his scar flared up again, causing him to clamp his hand to his forehead.

"Where did that come from?" he asked himself, his feelings of rage subsiding as the pain slowly receded.

He couldn't remember much else from his memory; just a flash of green light and visions of long, dark corridors filled with locked doors. Shaking his head, Harry sat up in bed and checked the time.

"Quarter til eight…" he yawned — still exhausted, but grateful for the few hours of sleep he had managed.

The house was still quiet, which meant that the Dursleys were either having a lie-in, or they simply decided to go about their daily business while pretending Harry didn't exist. Harry decided he was happy with either scenario, because both would make it easier for him to enact his plans. Whatever else happened, he was determined to be somewhere other than Privet Drive by nightfall.

Just then, Hedwig returned from her journey, swooping in through the window and perching herself on top of the headboard. Just seeing the small scroll tied to the snowy owl's leg was enough to make Harry's heart practically leap out of his chest. She actually responded!

His hands were shaking slightly as he removed the scroll, so he calmed himself by carefully stroking Hedwig's feathers in appreciation.

"You've done brilliantly, Hedwig, thank you."

She leaned into his hand for a moment, and then with a soft hoot, she fluttered over to her cage. After a quick drink of water, Hedwig buried her head in her wing so she could get some well-deserved rest, and it was with a deep sense of anticipation that Harry unfurled the note and began to read.

Dear Harry,

What do you mean you were attacked?! I do hope you'll give me a proper explanation at the first opportunity. I want to believe that you're at least safe for the moment, or else you wouldn't have had a chance to write me in the first place. I'll admit that your letter sent me into a bit of a panic. Please believe me when I say that I do want to help you, but this sort of thing is very new to me.

Do you have any way to get to Appleby-in-Westmorland, in Cumbria? I have an idea that might work for you, but you'd have to get here first. There's a muggle pub called the Whistling Pig where we can meet. If you make the trip, just let me know when you get arrive and I will meet you there.

Good luck

This was good. Cumbria was all the way up near the Scottish border, and getting there wouldn't be easy, but at least he now had a destination in mind. Feeling energised, Harry stood up and paced back and forth across his room trying to come up with a plan.

First off, he had to get away from Privet Drive without raising suspicion. The Dursleys seemed keen to ignore him that summer, but last night's events may have changed things a bit. On top of that, there was always a chance that the house was being seemed like sneaking out under his Invisibility Cloak would be his best bet.

But how to get to Appleby? It would take him several hours to fly there on his Firebolt, and there was always the risk of being spotted. The only other really viable option was the Knight Bus. It would be a bit risky, but to Harry, a little risk was preferable to the very real danger that came with being a sitting duck.

"Hedwig," he said, rousing the now-annoyed owl from her nap. "I'm leaving now. I'll be in Appleby, which should be close to where you delivered that letter. Once you're done resting, come find me."

She stared at him for a moment before dipping her head slightly and getting back to her nap. Harry took that to mean she understood, so he picked up his rucksack and prepared to embark on his journey northward. He wouldn't be able to bring his trunk with him, but he figured he could ask someone to pick up his school things for him when the time came. The only question was whether or not to bring his Firebolt. On one hand, it would be quite cumbersome to bring with him under the Cloak, but on the other, it could come in handy if he needed to make a quick escape.

It was a bit awkward, but after some trial and error, Harry managed to hide both himself and his broom under his Invisibility Cloak. So, after first double checking that both his window and Hedwig's cage were left open, Harry slowly opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Dudley's bedroom door was still closed, which he had expected, considering his cousin was rarely out of bed before noon if he didn't have to be.

Harry crept down the stairs as quietly as possible, taking care to avoid the creaky step. The sounds of the television being on were audible from the downstairs hallway, which meant Aunt Petunia was most likely in the living room. Uncle Vernon would've already left for work, so his path to the back door seemed clear. He had taken a few steps down the hallway towards the kitchen when he heard his aunt's voice.

"And what exactly do you think you're up to?"

Harry froze in his tracks, and he would later swear that his heart actually stopped beating for a moment. He turned his head towards the living room to see Petunia standing at the window and peering through the blinds, apparently commenting on whatever the neighbours across the street were doing.

Relief washed over him immediately, and Harry slowly let out the breath he didn't even realise he was holding. Trust his aunt to scare him half to death simply by being her nosy self. Shaking his head, he gathered himself and cautiously resumed his trek to the outside.

Fortunately, he made it through the kitchen and out the door to the back garden without further incident. His plan was to cut through the trees behind the house and follow the road for at least a mile. That way, he would be far enough away from Privet Drive that he could summon the Knight Bus without being noticed by anyone who happened to be surveilling the Dursleys' house.

With one final check to make sure both his body and his broom were completely covered by the Cloak, Harry left Number Four, Privet Drive for what he hoped would be the last time.

oOoOoOo

Walking while hiding under his Invisibility Cloak was slow going, made even more so by the way he had to conceal his Firebolt. As such, it took him nearly an entire hour to get to the spot he'd had in mind to call the Knight Bus. There was a small, wooded area on the side of the road, so he took the opportunity to duck behind a tree and get ready for the next phase.

He stashed the Cloak in his rucksack, then pull out both his money bag and one of Dudley's old baseball caps. Pulling the cap low over his eyes, Harry stepped out from behind the tree. He thought about covering up his broom with the Cloak, but he was afraid that would somehow be even more conspicuous than toting a Firebolt around. After all, the Cloak only became invisible when it was being worn by someone — which was a good thing, considering he'd never be able to find it otherwise.

Making sure his wand was easily accessible — just in case — Harry stuck out his hand to signal for his ride. A short moment later there was a loud bang, and the purple triple-decker bus sprang into existence, screeching to a halt right in front of Harry. The door opened, and Harry was greeted by the familiar, rather pimply conductor he had first met on the evening he accidentally blew up his Aunt Marge.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this morn — Oi, ain't you 'Arry…"

"Arnold," Harry interrupted forcefully. "My name is Arnold…Layne, and I need to get to Appleby."

Stan looked at him sceptically for a moment, but then simply replied, "'At'll be eleven Sickles, Arnold," in his thick cockney accent, after which he stepped aside to allow Harry room to board the bus.

"Mighty fine broom you 'ave there, Arnold. You going up to Appleby to try out for the Arrows or somefink?"

"No, I'm — er — I just like to go around to different Quidditch stadiums and fly around. You know, so I can pretend I'm a real player."

Stan gave him a curious look but quickly shrugged off his concerns.

"Sounds to me like you've got a strange hobby, Arnold, but 'oo am I to judge? 'Ave a seat anywhere you like, we'll be in Appleby shortly."

"Thanks Stan, just one more thing. I'm a bit...embarrassed about my hobby," said Harry, pulling out a small stack of Galleons from his money bag and causing the conductor's eyes to widen slightly. "I'd appreciate it if no one else found out about my little trip, or even the fact that you were in Surrey at all today."

Stan gladly accepted the gold and gave Harry an exaggerated wink.

"Not to worry, guv, you'd be surprised 'ow much we've forgotten over the years."

"Glad to hear it. I'll be sure to remember how helpful you were the next time I need a ride."

After emphasising his point with a quick jingle of his money bag, Harry bid Stan good day and moved towards the back of the bus. He plopped down in an overstuffed armchair and sighed deeply, feeling no small amount of relief, now that the first part of his plan had met a successful conclusion. A small smile appeared on his face as he shut his eyes and settled in for the journey to Appleby.

Harry tried to catch up on a little sleep during the ride, but the constant banging and jumping of the Knight Bus really didn't lend itself to napping. Instead, he spent most of the journey either stewing over the dismissive way he'd been treated over the past several weeks, or fretting about his current situation and all that could go wrong.

After finally arriving at his destination, Harry gave one final nod to the conductor and disembarked. After first confirming that he was alone, he put his Invisibility Cloak back on so he could get his bearings without being seen. The village itself wasn't particularly large, so he was cautiously optimistic that he'd be able to find his way around without getting lost.

At first glance, Appleby seemed like a nice, quiet town, filled with small shops and quaint little cottages. It was home to both magicals and muggles, but it was also one of the few places with a magical population large enough to support its own Quidditch team, the Appleby Arrows.

Harry's next order of business was to find the location of their planned rendezvous, the Whistling Pig. It was approaching noon and Harry was feeling peckish, so he hoped he could find it quickly and grab a bite while he was waiting. Suddenly coming to a realisation, he opened up his money bag. Luckily, he did have a bit of muggle money, but it definitely wasn't enough to last him more than a day or two. That was clearly an oversight on his part; one which he hoped he wouldn't regret.

Another potential complication was finding Hedwig, or rather, letting her find him. Without her, Harry wasn't sure how to get in touch with his still-anonymous patron.

"Oh well," he thought. "I guess I'll just have to wing it from here."

Chuckling to himself, Harry set out walking about the village, still under his Invisibility Cloak. After half an hour of shuffling around without even a hint of success, he reckoned a change of tact was in order. Deciding to rely on his anonymity in the muggle world, he quickly stashed his Firebolt out of sight behind a municipal building and took off his Cloak to ask for directions. That's how he wound up walking into the Whistling Pig a few minutes before one o'clock in the afternoon and grabbing a table in the corner by himself.

The pub had a few patrons lounging about, but it was far from busy. Harry had just ordered lunch and was quietly contemplating where he should go to wait for Hedwig when a voice called out to him.

"Harry?"

He instinctively went for his wand but stopped when he looked up and saw who had addressed him. It was a girl about his age, possibly younger, with wavy, sandy blonde hair that came down just past her shoulders. The girl appeared to be rather thin, just like he was, and she had the pale complexion of someone who didn't spend much time outdoors. Harry's first thought was that the girl was quite pretty. His second thought was that he hoped she was his mysterious correspondent, or else he'd have to come up with a fast excuse for why he was there.

"Yes, I'm Harry."

"Oh, thank goodness," said the girl. "I wasn't sure if you'd be able to contact me again, so I planned on waiting here just to see if you'd show up. Why didn't you write me?"

"I only just arrived," explained Harry, relaxing slightly. "And also, I couldn't bring my owl with me on the trip. I told her to fly up and meet me here, but she hasn't found me yet."

"Wow, can your owl really follow your instructions like that? She must be a genius!"

"Don't tell her that," he chuckled. "She's got a big enough head as it is. Would you care to sit down?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied, taking the seat across from him. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I haven't properly introduced myself. My name is Astoria — Astoria Greengrass. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Greengrass?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly. "Aren't you in Slytherin?"

"No, I'm a Ravenclaw," she responded, rolling her eyes. "You're probably thinking of my sister, Daphne. She's a Slytherin in your year. They're not all bad, you know," she added, in response to his sceptical look.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment while he tried to picture the girl's sister. Based on his interactions with the rest of the Slytherins, the fact that she didn't really stand out to him was probably a good sign.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I recognised the name, and well...most of the Slytherins don't like me very much, so I have to be careful."

"Apology accepted. Now, what's all this about you being attacked?"

Harry told Astoria all about the dementor attack, including the letters from the Ministry and the fact that he still had to go to a hearing to defend his use of the Patronus Charm. He also explained his theories about why the Ministry was targeting him, including his suspicion that Voldemort already had people on the inside.

After weeks of isolation, it felt so nice to finally have someone to talk to that he wound up telling her a lot more than he'd initially intended. He even talked about his frustration with his friends and the headmaster, including his firmly held belief that they were all keeping vital information from him. Astoria sat there patiently and listened to him without interrupting, only asking the occasional clarifying question. She was such a good listener, and being able to finally speak to someone — anyone — was so cathartic, that Harry nearly began telling her about Cedric and the graveyard, only to change his mind the last moment.

"I'm sorry for unloading all that on you," he said apologetically, while absentmindedly running a hand through his hair. "The last couple of months have been...hard."

"That's okay, Harry," she said softly, reaching across the table to pat his other hand. "It must've been bad if you were willing to tell all that to someone you've only just met."

"Yeah..." he replied sheepishly. "I don't usually do that, but I think I'm a pretty decent judge of character, and...I don't know..."

Astoria looked back at him patiently as he tried to find the right words.

"Maybe it's because of your letter. If you hadn't written to me, I honestly wouldn't have even known about everything the Prophet was saying about me. There's also the fact that you're trying to help me, even though we haven't quite gotten to that part yet. It just feels like I can trust you."

Harry was spared from the awkwardness of his admission by the waitress arriving at their table to drop off his meal. Astoria declined to order anything for herself, although to Harry's amusement, she did help herself to a few chips off his plate.

"That's partially why I decided to write to you," she explained. "I've only been in school with you for two years, and even I could see how much gets put on you. I mean, there was last year with the Triwizard Tournament that you obviously didn't voluntarily enter, no matter what people said. And then the year before with the dementors and all that business with Sirius Black."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at her last comment, especially considering the look of consternation on her face when she said it. He actually thought that the way she worried her bottom lip every so often as she spoke was kind of cute, but he quickly dismissed the thought.

"There's an interesting story behind that, actually. Maybe I'll tell you about it one day."

"I look forward to it," she answered.

Harry finished the last bite of his lunch and pushed his plate aside. He took another quick look to make sure they wouldn't be overheard, then leaned forward to ask the question that brought him to Appleby that day.

"So...You mentioned in your letter that you had an idea?"

"Yes," she said quietly, also glancing around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. "My family's home isn't far from this village. It isn't much, but we have a guest cabin on the property that nobody ever uses. It's set back pretty far from the main house, so I think you'd be able to hide out there without anybody noticing, at least for a little while."

"Not even your parents?"

"No," she said confidently. "Father isn't home much during the day, and I don't think my mother has even seen the inside of the cabin."

"And your sister?"

"Well...Daphne can be surprisingly observant. It's a bit annoying, actually," admitted Astoria, frowning slightly. "But she loves me the most. She probably won't find out, but even if she does, I don't think she'd tell our parents — not after I'd explained the situation."

Harry sighed heavily.

"Listen, Astoria. I really appreciate your offer, I really do. But the reason I had to leave was because there was very real danger in me staying there. Somebody sent dementors to my house. Whether it was Voldemort or someone from the Ministry doesn't really matter; the fact is that someone is after me, and my staying on your property would put you and your entire family at risk. I can't ask you to do that."

Astoria didn't immediately respond. Instead, she just observed him for a moment while he avoided her gaze.

"You Gryffindors really are noble to a fault, aren't you?"

"Astoria..."

"No, Harry, just listen for a minute. I'm not sure what your home is like, but the Greengrass Estate is extremely well-protected. There are tons of spells and enchantments all around the property and on the house itself, including the cabin. Nobody who meant to do us harm could even set foot on the place, let alone a dementor. Trust me, we'll be safe."

Harry sat back in his seat. He'd never been to a wizarding home other than the Burrow, so he'd never even considered the idea that such protections existed. He had to admit that he was feeling somewhat more open to the idea after hearing Astoria's reassurances, but there were still a few details that needed ironing out.

"What about food?" he asked. "The money I have with me won't last very long, and somebody's bound to get suspicious if you keep taking extra food."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," replied Astoria, waiving off his concerns. "I ask Flopsy to make me extra food all the time, so that wouldn't surprise anybody." Seeing the confused look on Harry's face, she added, "Oh, Flopsy's our house-elf. She's taken care of Daphne and me since we were babies."

Harry nodded his understanding, but then he was struck by another thought.

"Wait, wouldn't your house-elf notice if a visitor was staying in the cabin? Wouldn't she have to tell your father?"

"Not if I asked her not to," claimed Astoria, with a shake of her head. "She wouldn't have a choice if Father gave her an order, but there'd be no reason for him to ask if he didn't know you were there in the first place."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle to himself. The girl seemed to have an answer for everything. Whether her answers were ultimately correct or not remained to be seen, but in either case, he definitely understood why the hat had sorted her into Ravenclaw.

"I don't know, Astoria. I appreciate all this, I really, really do, but if feels like there's an awful lot being left to chance."

Harry's less than enthusiastic reaction to Astoria's plan left the girl looking somewhat crestfallen, which mainly succeeded in making him feel guilty. After all, she had gone out of her way to help him when no one else would, and here he was, on the verge of rejecting her assistance.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "Your plan is actually more well thought out than most of mine have been. I just don't want to be responsible for you or your family getting hurt or in trouble."

"I wouldn't worry about it, Harry, we can take care of ourselves," she replied encouragingly.

"All right, I'm in," he finally agreed, after a long pause. "It's not as if I have a ton of other options."

"My thoughts exactly," she said, the smile returning to her face.

oOoOoOo

Soon after Harry paid for his lunch, the two of them left the pub and started making their way towards the Greengrass Estate, after a brief detour to collect Harry's Firebolt. Astoria was suitably impressed when Harry took out his Invisibility Cloak, although she admitted it felt odd having a conversation with someone she couldn't see.

It was slow going, but they occupied themselves by making small talk and getting to know each other better. Astoria was going into her third year at Hogwarts. Her favourite subject was Charms, but true to her sorting, she was very much looking forward to starting Arithmancy. She loved Quidditch — an Appleby Arrows supporter, obviously — but unashamedly admitted that she was rubbish at the sport, herself.

Astoria's father was some sort of businessman, trading mainly in potion ingredients and other magical supplies. He travelled often, so even when Hogwarts was not in session, she would only see him once or twice per week, at most. She described her mother as a 'well-bred socialite', though she wrinkled her nose at the term. Based on Astoria's description, the woman didn't seem to have much time for her or her sister while they were growing up, owing to her busy social calendar.

Harry certainly empathised, having far from the ideal childhood himself, and the notion that unsatisfying home lives came in all shapes and sizes was a sobering realisation. In exchange, he shared a little bit about life with the Dursleys, along with what little he knew about his own parents.

Astoria was most animated when discussing her sister, Daphne, who she described as 'smart, beautiful, and a royal pain in the arse'. Harry was forced to admit that he didn't know much about her, even though they were in the same year. Apparently, she mostly kept to herself and focused on her studies while at school.

After nearly forty minutes of walking, they came to a large wrought-iron gate, which was set slightly back from the hedgerow that bordered the road and was flanked on either side by brick columns. A wide cobblestone pathway extended from the road and past the gate, before disappearing around a small, grassy hill.

"Well, here we are," Astoria said brightly. "Hardly anyone ever comes this way. Whenever visitors come over, they usually just use the floo, so the gate's mostly just used by Daphne and me whenever we need to walk to the village."

"I guess that makes sense," replied Harry. "I take it muggles can't see the gate?"

"That's right. Plenty of wizards and witches live around here too, but it's pretty rare for anyone to call at the front gate. Now, take my hand," she said, reaching out in the direction of his voice. "Unless you want to set off an alert, you need to be touching me until we get through the outer layers of enchantments."

Harry carefully reached out from under the Cloak and took her hand — which would have made for quite the unusual sight, if any passers-by were to happen upon them. From there, Astoria slowly led him through the gate and up the cobblestone path, until they came to the crest of a small hill, where she let go of his hand.

The Greengrass home was a magnificent brick building set amidst an expansive, grass-covered field. The lower half of the building was covered in thick ivy, which was only broken up by the tall first floor windows and white-columned entryway. Several large chimneys protruded from the house's weathered slate roof, from which a series of windowed dormers also extended. Harry would later learn that while the house had been modified and added to over the years, the original structure dated back to before the establishment of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy in the year 1692.

As he stood there, Harry couldn't help but feel a small sense of trepidation, so he took a deep breath and tried not to focus on all that could go wrong with the plan. He glanced over at the girl beside him, who seemed completely unfazed. If nothing else, he had to admire her confidence. After a few moments, Astoria turned to speak to him, careful not to make it too obvious that she wasn't alone.

"Now, I should probably go inside first and make sure nobody's looking for me. The guest cabin is directly behind the house and to the left. Why don't you make your way there, and I'll meet you as soon as I can. Just don't go inside until I get there."

She left him without another word and made her way towards the front door. After first making sure that he was completely covered by the Cloak, Harry set off in the direction of the cabin, making sure to give the main house a wide berth, just to be safe.

The cabin itself turned out to be much larger than he had been picturing in his head. It had the wood exterior and rustic charm of a cabin, but it was easily twice the size of the Dursleys' house on Privet Drive. Most importantly, it was nestled up against the treeline near the edge of the property, so far back from the main house that Harry could just barely see the top of the roof from there. Feeling slightly better about his new hiding spot after having seen it, Harry hid his Firebolt behind a nearby tree and sat down on the edge of the veranda.

Fortunately, Harry didn't have to wait for long. A short while after he sat down, Astoria came into view walking briskly down the hill towards the cabin, carrying what appeared to be a picnic basket.

"Harry?"

"Right here," he said, briefly pulling back the Cloak to reveal his face.

"Okay, follow me."

Harry grabbed his broom and followed her through the door into a large sitting room, which was furnished with two sofas and an assortment of chairs and tables, arranged around an enormous stone fireplace. The walls and floor were all made from well-polished wood, and there were several exposed wooden beams criss-crossing the white plastered ceiling.

"You can come out now," said Astoria, setting down the basket. "There are four bedrooms, but I suggest you take the one on this floor near the back of the cabin. It's the most out of the way, and even if you had the lights on at night nobody in the house could see it."

Harry nodded as he looked around, still taking in his surroundings.

"I realised I never asked you; how long do you think you'll need to stay in hiding?"

"Well..." he started, rubbing the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. "To be honest, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I was more focused on just getting away. I am supposed to go to the Ministry on the twelfth for my hearing, though. I'm not sure what'll happen after that, but if all goes well, I expect to board the Hogwarts Express on September first. If not..."

"I see," she said curiously, tapping her finger to her chin. "So, about this hearing..."

"Hang on, it might be easier if I just showed you," he said, fishing the two Ministry letters out of his rucksack and handing them to her.

"So, what do you think?" he asked as she read through each one. "Do you reckon this sort of thing is normal, or is it more 'special treatment' from the Ministry?"

"I don't know, Harry. I can't claim to be an expert, but the fact that they immediately tried to expel you and snap your wand sounds a bit dodgy. I don't suppose you have a solicitor, do you?"

"Can't say that I do. Should I?"

"It might not be a bad idea," she admitted, again worrying at her lower lip. "I'm not really sure how to go about getting you one, but I'll see what I can find out. Oh! And I have some food here for you," she added, picking up the picnic basket and going through the contents. "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I brought you a bit of everything."

"That's great; thanks a lot," he said.

"Oh, it was nothing, don't mention it," replied Astoria, continuing to fuss over the food.

"No, I'm serious," insisted Harry, claiming her full attention by gently setting his hand on her wrist. "I'm not just talking about the food. I'm talking about your first letter, the way you agreed to help me at a moment's notice, listening to me..."

Harry sighed deeply and ran his hand through his messy black hair.

"I've never had many people I could count on, and the ones I do have been...disappointing, lately. For you to do all this for me, and without even knowing me...I can't even begin to tell you how much it means to me. So, thank you."

"You're welcome, Harry," she said in a soft, but earnest voice.

For a moment they just stood there, silently gazing at one another. Not for the first time that day, Harry noticed how striking her pale blue irises really were. His cheeks flushed slightly at that thought, but the moment was soon broken by the sound of a soft tapping at the window.

"Eep!" Astoria squeaked, clutching her hand to her chest. Harry, on the other hand, immediately drew his wand and pointed it in the direction of the disturbance, only to see that the source of the noise was an extremely familiar snowy owl.

"Hedwig!" he said, quickly moving to open the window. Harry never doubted that she'd be able to find him, but he was still enormously relieved at her arrival.

"She nearly startled me half to death," said Astoria, still clutching her chest.

Hedwig surveyed her imperiously for a moment, and then with a soft hoot, she fluttered inside and perched herself on the back of a chair.

"I'm glad you made it, girl," said Harry, as he stroked her feathers. "We're going to be staying here for a little while. You should be able to hunt here, but try to stay out of sight of the big house, all right?"

The owl squawked once, then beat her wings and swooped back out of the window, likely to find a nice tree to perch in.

"I should probably go," Astoria said after a moment. "I'll stop by again tomorrow, as soon as I can get away without raising suspicion. I'll be sure to bring you some more food, too."

With that, she turned and quickly exited out the front door.

Harry quickly located the downstairs bedroom and spent the next several minutes familiarising himself with the cabin. It was quite well appointed, showing off the wealth of the owners without being overly ostentatious or detracting from the rustic feel of the place.

Next, he checked all the windows and doors, making sure to identify multiple escape routes, just in case they became necessary. Satisfied that he was safe for the time being, he plopped down on one of the sofas in hopes he could finally relax for a bit. Try as he might, however, he couldn't prevent the gravity of the situation from settling over him as he sat alone in the empty room.

He had done it. He'd defied Dumbledore, defied Sirius, and had successfully escaped from Privet Drive without being caught by Death Eaters. So, what next?

The Ministry hearing was concerning. Up until then he hadn't given it much thought; he'd been much more focused on the dementors and the potential for follow-up attacks. There was also the fact that his expulsion was almost immediately reversed. At first, he had been relieved, but now he was worried that it was only a temporary stay of execution.

Regardless of their motivation, there was no arguing the fact that the Ministry was at the very least trying to damage his reputation, along with that of Professor Dumbledore. Perhaps Astoria was right; maybe he should try to find a solicitor. The last thing he needed was to show up to a hearing unprepared and get chucked out of school, or even tossed in Azkaban, just for saving the lives of himself and his relatives.

He thought about writing to Ron and Hermione, or at least Sirius, just to let them know that he was safe, but just thinking about them and their useless, inconsiderate letters only made him angry, and he quickly dismissed the idea.

No, he decided that him being the one doing the ignoring this time would only serve them right. In fact, he hoped they did discover that he'd left the Dursleys', so they could see how they liked being kept in the dark for a change. He knew that he'd have to get in contact with them eventually, but he didn't see why he couldn't let them stew for a bit first.

Harry smirked at the thought and grabbed an apple from the picnic basket, then kicked his feet up and caught up on some much-needed rest.