Masked Reality

Chapter Three

Right outside Harry's window was some - thing. He had never seen such a beast in his life, and didn't know whether it was going to shoot lasers at him or break through his window and eat Hedwig... he was frozen on the spot, staring straight at the creature. It was a strange creature with bat-like wings, which were lifted off its body as it sat right outside the window, staring in at him. Its diamond-shaped black eyes stared silently at him through a horrible silver mask-like thing on its upside-down-triangle shaped face. He noticed a pendant hanging from around its neck on a shining gold chain. The gem was the color of fresh blood, and looked as if it were swirling around inside the pendant. Its blood-colored body didn't seem to help either. The creature had claws that could easily tear through his body, which made Harry shudder. The thoughts this devilish creature was giving him made him feel very unpleasant.

A thought struck him. What if Lucius sent this creature to kill him? What if Lucius knew that Harry was going to react the way he did and had told the creature to finish the poor boy off? Another, more awakening thought hit him. What if Lucius had sent this creature to kidnap him? These thoughts were enough to have Harry fumbling for the lock on his door. But he wasn't fast enough.

The creature had broken the window with one good hit, and was squirming in to get to Harry, ignoring the stray shards of glass that were tearing at its scaly skin. It managed to grab hold of Harry's waist, easily wrapping its claw all the way around with some extra room for the tips of its fingers. And then Harry felt himself being lifted out the window, held tightly to the creature's warm but uncomfortable chest, and was suddenly flying, so to speak. The feeling was incredible, making him forget about all of his troubles. All he wanted now was to grow a set of wings and soar over every piece of land in the entire world, examining everything from a bird's view. But at the same time, another problem itched at Harry. Where was this creature taking him? Was it going to eat him, or take him to creatures like it so they could all eat him? Was it taking him to Hogwarts?

The pendant that he'd noticed around the creature's neck somehow levitated itself in front of Harry's face, and began to glow within the blood-colored swirling mist. He became dizzy, and closed his eyes for a few moments.

Unknowingly, he'd kept his eyes shut for hours on end. By the time he opened them up again, the sun was setting and the sky was changing from a fiery rainbow to an ocean of blues and purples. The creature was flapping its wings tirelessly, and Harry noticed the major change in landscape below him as his means of transportation continued on.

The houses were now neatly set apart by a good few acres, with more acres in front and behind them. Harry felt a tinge of jealousy; he had always wanted a rolling backyard of beautiful green, possibly with a horse or goat in a large pen.

Finally, after such a long trip, the creature came upon a very large, old-fashioned mansion. It flew into the backyard, even though the entire house and both yards (even the side yards which was obvious) were surrounded completely by a large, thick forest that went on forever in all directions.

The creature let Harry out of the tight embrace, and he felt the first signs of a few cracked ribs. He moaned slightly and bent over to balance himself out. It took a while because he had grown used to staring down at the earth from above.

"Well, well, well. Look what mangy thing the cat dragged in." A drawling voice could be heard very near to Harry. His head shot up in the direction of where it had come from, and found himself looking up at Draco Malfoy. He was seated atop a large black horse that seemed to have the same amount of arrogance as Malfoy himself. He allowed it towards Harry, slipped off its side, and walked straight up to his arch nemesis.

Harry stood upright, even though it hurt thanks to the strange creature that had by now taken back to the skies. Malfoy watched him flinch, knowing it wasn't because of his presence, but letting himself pretend it was anyway.

"I never thought I'd find the famous Harry Potter in my own backyard." Each word dripped thickly with sarcasm that made Harry want to punch Malfoy more and more.

"If it wasn't for that stupid monster thing that your horrible father sent, I wouldn't even be at this wretched place," Harry replied angrily, forgetting his usual manner towards Malfoy. I'm sick of pretending not to be fazed by his idiotic remarks. For once I'm going to retaliate.

"Ah, so my father's arrived at your godforsaken muggle relatives' house. How lovely."

"Yes, and I'd like an explanation on that matter because he wasn't supposed to be there. A person who was going to save my life should have been."

"Then I suppose it's very ironic that he came along instead, isn't it Potter?" Malfoy asked teasingly. Harry glared at him, thinking of what to say next. "Ah, now the cat's got your tongue?" he continued after Harry hadn't said anything. "Don't tell me - Potter's finally come to a dead end in the retort department, eh? Can't say I'm surprised; after all, you are definitely one to be expected of nothing more than speaking your name and possibly answering simple math or English."

Harry had had enough. He pounced on Malfoy, letting his hand come into contact with Malfoy's inviting throat without hesitation. Scratch marks quickly ripped themselves into the perfectly smooth, pale skin of Malfoy, who screamed angrily. He smacked Harry on the face, hard. He had to roll off of Malfoy to cover his face, which was stinging worse than cold water being poured on it during a winter snowstorm.

Malfoy took this time to sit up and kick Harry in the stomach out of mild frustration. He had already been drained of his energy from the very forceful slap, which made him very angry in itself because his father had always badgered him on how much of a wimp he was.

"Draco, don't go dirtying up our guest before your father has a chance with him." Both Draco and Harry looked up at the woman who'd just spoke. She was standing right above Harry, looking as if she were ready to step on his hands and grind her heel into them. He remembered seeing her during the Quidditch World Cup back before he'd started his fourth year at Hogwarts. She was Draco's mother Narcissa, one who could have been rather attractive had she not let the foul manner infect her.

"Sorry mother, but he came in that way," Draco replied, standing up and brushing himself off. He looked at her for a second, seemed to recognize some unknown look she was giving him, and led his horse away without another word.

"Lucius is going to be here very shortly, and you'd do well not to move from that spot." Harry glared up at her, but she stared straight back at him with the same amount of tension and anger. She finally pulled away, leaving Harry alone to tend to his wounds.

"These damn ribs are hurting like nothing else," Harry commented to himself, "but I simply refuse to stay anywhere even remotely near the dreaded Malfoy Mansion. I'm leaving."

"You really need to learn not to talk to have conversations with yourself outside of your mind, Potter."

Harry saw Draco walking back up to him, the fresh wound on the boy's throat still bleeding profusely. He was ignoring it, however, even though it was a stupid move on his part.

"Shut up Malfoy. I'm getting out of here whether or not you and your stupid family 'allow' it." Harry exaggerated the quotation gestures greatly, which pissed Malfoy off.

"Hold your tongue, Potter. If it weren't for your ridiculous popularity and the fact that that ignorant man Fudge had a liking for you, you wouldn't even be permitted anywhere near our property. Consider yourself more than lucky."

A ball of fluff dive-bombed Draco with enough force to knock him off his feet. The perpetrator let itself up onto Harry's shoulder to rest for a few moments. He looked to see who it was - Hedwig, of course. She had a tiny blue coin in her beak. Harry took it and examined it, wondering where it had come from and what its use was.

"Potter, if you use that I will personally rip all of your limbs off with my bare hands," Malfoy muttered maliciously. Harry looked down at him.

"Use this?" he asked, mostly to see if Draco would blatantly tell him what it did.

"Of course, you nitwit. Those talismans are part Portkey, and it doesn't do well for you to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. Playing dumb has gone quite out of fashion."

"Oh, a portkey, Malfoy? A talisman that's part portkey. Mind telling me a bit more... say, what time it sends me to its destination?" Although it was a very long shot, Harry decided there was no other way to find out.

"I'm not that stupid. Like I would bother telling you that it was one to leave exactly five minutes after the receiver got it. Oh, dear Go-" Malfoy slapped himself in the forehead and rolled his eyes. "Don't think I won't get you for this, Potter."

That was the last thing that Harry heard come from Malfoy. He looked up in time to see Lucius Apparate a few feet ahead of him, his hands outstretched. Apparently Lucius knew that Harry had a Portkey.

Too late.

The familiar feeling of Harry being hooked from his naval and pulled away from his current position returned. Hedwig was still on his shoulder, albeit barely. He had to grab her and nudge her in the crook of his elbow securely, all the while keeping one feather on the tiny blue coin.

After seconds that seemed to be hours that seemed to be years that were really minutes [like the description? Me too!], Harry and Hedwig tumbled into his bedroom. He landed on his bed, while Hedwig fluttered her wings dizzily and landed on her perch.

Harry didn't move for so long that he didn't know how long he'd been back at the Dursleys before Vernon barged into his room. Steam was shooting from his ears as he grabbed his nephew by the neck and barely missed choking Harry. A few spluttering noises escaped him, but words were failing him. Harry was squirming miserably in his angered uncle's death grip, but to no avail. He held tight to Vernon's wrists so as not to be hanged, and waited impatiently for the piggish man to let air return to his lungs.

"Vernon, did you tell him?" Petunia's rigid voice echoed up into the hallway from the living room.

"We're throwing you out, boy," he whispered evilly. "You're to take all of your... magic and your toys and your clothes... your belongings, boy. Take them all and LEAVE." Each time he let a word leave his small mouth, Harry felt his grip on Harry's throat tighten more and more.

Finally, he dropped his nephew, who had begun to readjust to not breathing normally. Harry coughed on the ground, but quickly got back up to his feet and stared straight at Vernon.

"Fine, you wretched mongrel. God help you when I send my godfather after you three."

Those were the last words that Harry ever said to Vernon. In half an hour's time, all of his stuff was packed, and he was out the door. He was outside in the well-remembered winter night that was the result of a cold weather that had arrived quite a few months early. The door slammed shut behind him, and he was alone with a snowy owl, two trunks and a backpack full of belongings, and a strength of will that was slowly being drained by the night's unpleasantness.