Band of Gypsies

Chapter Three

Harry raised his eyelids slowly. He felt a hot breath against his face. His heart leapt when he opened his eyes and focused. Crouching in front of him was a thin, small being with butter-yellow hair falling straight to the chest. It framed a heart-shaped face with cool gray eyes. The face had delicate high cheek bones and an aquiline nose. The cupid lips were firmly pressed together. Harry's eyes were drawn to the ears, pointed and slightly fuzzy with gossamer white hair. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen such a beautiful creature before and wondered if he was in the middle of a dream.

The figure remained frozen. Harry took in the details of the cloak made in shades of forest colors and the soft deer skin leggings and shoes. The creature held a bow and a quiver full of arrows hung at its' back. Harry looked down and saw with rising terror an amazingly shiny knife with serrated teeth pointed at his belly.

"What doest thou in the forest, human?" It breathed. The voice was so musical, Harry thought it came from above; from the breeze blowing through the trees.

"I am lost," Harry mumbled. "I mean no harm."

The being poked at the wand that Harry had carelessly dropped in his lap. "Thou art a wizard."

"Not completely. I can't use my wand." Harry remained still, breathing shallow. "What... what are you?" The creature reminded him of something, but he couldn't place it.

The beauty of the face was marred slightly by the frown. "Thou art just a youngling. We cannot kill a youngling. But thou must leave the forest now. Others of my kind, Elves, will find thee and they will kill thee most horribly." The creature sniffed the air and cocked his head to listen.

Harry was enamored by the musical voice and the beauty. Now he understood the familiarity. He knew Dobby, a house elf. Dobby was definitely ugly, stooped and grayish

and compared in no respect to this elegant creature. But Harry also knew after studying him for a few minutes that there was some link between their races. "You're an elf?"

The creature didn't move from his fixed stance. "Yes."

Harry was thinking furiously and said, "I'm on a journey to find my parent's home."

"Thou hast lost thy nest?" The elf turned to look at him.

"Yes," Harry said and slowly pulled out a map. "I'm looking for this." He pointed.

The elf glanced at the map. It was obvious that it meant nothing to him. The elf shrugged. "We know thee, Harry Potter." The elf withdrew the knife slowly so that Harry could inhale deeply, his hand rising to cover his scar. The elf went on, "The affairs of wizards are not important to us. But we are aware of many things in the world. We claim these forests as our own and evil does not come here." The elf turned slightly. "For that reason we will not kill thee even though it is our custom to kill all humans that enter our lands." The elf began to move away. Harry thought he had his eyes fixed on the figure and then the dappled light of the shaking leaves and sun obscured his vision enough so that the elf seemed to fade. He heard the voice drifting back to him. "Follow the path, Traveler. We will send you a guide. Do not stray and it will take thee safely to thy destination."

Harry put his wand in his pocket and got up. He wasn't sure if he'd had a dream or if it was true until he saw the red fox come trotting towards him. It looked at him, tongue hanging, panting from its mouth. The white teeth and red gums were visible. It appeared to be grinning at him. Harry shooed at it, advanced menacingly and finally stopped and waited. The animal stood, walked away, came back, yipped, circled and walked back in the same direction. Harry followed. He knew other eyes followed him.

Dark fell quickly as he walked beneath the tall trees and in the shadow of the wooded mountains. The trail was visible although Harry thought he would have quickly lost it without his guide. It gave him a moment's ease to just put one foot in front of another and follow the noiseless figure of the animal ahead.

Hours passed. The full realization of what he had done in the past twenty-four hours stopped him in his tracks. He'd run away from Privet Drive, changed his identity and was on a journey. He wasn't sure what he was going to find but he knew that he had to keep his friends safe. He knew that he couldn't wait for other people to protect him, when in the end he would have to face Voldemort himself. He had lost trust in Dumbledore. It was clear to Harry that Dumbledore had pretended that he could protect him. And he had failed. Dumbledore had hurt him badly.

Now he stood in the dark and heard the night forest come alive. Shivering, he drew his cloak from his sack and pulled it around him. He couldn't see the little red fox any longer and thought it best to find shelter from the night. Just off to the side of the deep ravine were a number of hollows wind-forged into the side of the steep hillside. He climbed clumsily over downed timber and roots until he found one that was deep enough for his body.

Curling up in his den with his sack under his head, he fell asleep. No dreams came.

Snape followed the trail easily. He had developed his own form of disguise, leaving the impression, intentionally, that he was the Dark Lord's servant. He kept his inquiries short. "I am looking for a young man with dark hair. He wears glasses and perhaps muggle clothin," Snape murmured the question, always keeping his own features disguised behind a dark cloak. Snape knew how to be menacing. There were a few who quaked visibly at his voice. Rumor spread quickly.

Owls flew on swift wing, back and forth between the Weasley's and Dumbledore's office. A letter from Hermione Granger was so heavy it took two post owls to deliver. Harry had disappeared and a dark stranger was hunting him.

Harry woke in the early hours of the morning smelling coffee and food. He thought he was dreaming. A small twig fire burned near his little den within reach of his outstretched hand and food was set nearby. Shaking the night from his eyes, Harry sipped gratefully from a goblin-wrought silver cup filled with coffee. He put a forkful of the mysterious mixture of stew in his mouth and his eyes widened. He had never had such wonderful food in his entire life and he gobbled it quickly.

He studied the bush that surrounded him and saw no sign of the elf. "If you're out there, will you at least tell me your name," he said aloud.

A movement in front of him exposed the creature. The elf sat cross-legged not more than three feet in front of him under the bough of an immense fur tree. He was so much a part of the natural landscape that looked like the bark of the tree. Harry started. He wondered how the creature could have been so stealthy.

"We are Verillieon," the elf purred, watching Harry finish off his coffee and warm himself at the tiny fire.

"Thank you, Verillieon for my breakfast," Harry murmured quietly, "and for the fire." Harry knew that the elf had saved him from using magic or from going hungry.

The elf sat stiffly sniffing the air, searching the woods as if it were natural to be constantly vigilant. "Harry Potter, thou is being hunted now. Dark creatures enter the forest to find you."

Harry looked around quickly. "Where? Who?"

"They are far away. But they are very evil." The elf wasn't looking at Harry. "My people are also dangerous to thee. Thou must travel quickly today and leave the forest before one more night falls." Verillieon stepped back and disappeared. Harry didn't even hear him move through the thatched overgrowth.

Harry packed his cloak, swallowed the last of the coffee and took the cup with him. He put out the fire and covered it with green brush hoping that it could not be found. Glancing quickly around, it appeared to him that he had covered his footprints and the small den area well. He would have liked to use a spell to erase all signs of himself but knew it was risky. How did they ever find me so quickly? Whose following me? He wondered.

The red fox reappeared just as Harry finished his cleanup. Sunlight was just now beginning to drift down through the trees to the forest floor. Harry moved as fast as he could over the rough terrain. The fox had left the trail and was climbing up the slope, along the jagged bluff. Harry was sweating and holding his side as he climbed behind. He hoped that he wasn't being led astray by the animal.

Several hours passed until he recognized that they had returned to some semblance of trail. The breakfast that had nourished him had long since been eaten and Harry was quickly longing for a break and the rest of his bread. He climbed to the top of a narrow band of rock and searched the forest below. He could see the forest stretching before him for miles.

In spite of the yip of the fox, Harry sat on the edge of a rock and took his lunch; a handful of bread and a swig of water from the flask. Chewing slowly, he looked out and let the sun beat on his face. He felt tired and little nervous. He was alone, on his own, for the first time in his life.

Harry could see Ron's face and Hermione once they learned that he had left the Dursleys. They would both be worried and furious with him. He hoped that he would see their faces again and he would be able to return to Hogwarts. It isn't that I want to stay away forever. It's not like I've been given a choice, really. Harry studied the blue sky and the hawk winging its way overhead and then circling.

A body, not heavier than a small animals' suddenly dropped on his back and threw him to the ground. Combined together, the two bodies rolled to the foot of the slope. "Crazy human!" Verillieon extricated himself and pulled away from Harry. "Worse than a muggle!" Verillieon glanced up at the robin-egg blue sky. The hawk was gone. "Doest thou not see that the hawk has eyes. Sitting up there for all to see! Foolish human! The birds, the trees, the grass, all have eyes!" The elf's voice remained soft but edged with fury. Even in the full sunlight, Harry was amazed at the delicate creature in front of him. The waspy elf stood up majestically, his fists clenched. "We can smell thee from a mile away and hear thee crashing through the trees. If we can, so can those that follow thee."

"I'm...I'm sorry," Harry gasped, grabbing his sack and his belongings.

The elf nodded, relaxed and watched Harry politely until he had gathered himself and got to his feet. "We are trying to keep thee alive," he said.

"But why, Verillieon? Why are you helping me?" Harry asked before the elf could perform one of his magical disappearing acts.

"Harry Potter must live," the elf said simply.

Harry stared at the calm face of the creature whose eyes were so large and so deep they were like pools of clear water. He couldn't read the elf's thoughts. Everyone's trying to keep me alive, he thought. And then, everyone but me. He considered that for a moment. Was he unconsciously sabotaging his own safety. The climb to the rock, exposing himself, was that all a means to an end? Did he want to die? Was he trying to make it easier on himself. Just let the Dark Lord kill me and it'll all be over.

If Voldemort killed him, then what? Harry knew the answer. The wizarding world was doomed. There was no one else that could conquer the Dark Lord.

Harry started walking. No matter how much he wanted the equation to be different, it always came out the same. He continue on in silence, with a heavy heart, knowing that he was putting off the inevitable. He knew people were going to suffer every moment he avoided the confrontation. I'm not ready. Not yet! he concluded. No matter how many lives may be lost, I can't face him yet.

Harry walked cautiously through the forest, trying to muffle his footsteps, remembering the elf's words. He thought of all of the creatures that were in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts and knew that he should be more cautious. There were many animals in the wizarding world that were dangerous. And he supposed that these woods were not going to be any different. For a short time he wished he had not left his Firebolt behind.

The elf did not travel with him, leaving the antics of the crazy furry fox to be his guide.

Snape sat at the table of the pub and dropped more money on the table. The tavern keeper added another full mug to the ones that sat empty in front of the coach driver. "So you do not know when or where he left the coach?"

"No, Gov'na. The boy must've jumped somewhere around Barstill. Jus' glad 'e paid in advance, if you know what I mean. Din na do a runner on me, fer sure. Well, he was done up like a dog's dinner as I tol' yer before. Right, fine clothes he wore." The drunken man laughed garishly. "Too many bloody gits 'oo think they can't get away wit' things fer free, if you know what I mean." He grabbed the full container and a pale white, cold hand covered his to stop the mug from being lifted off the table. The hissing voice whispered, "Legilimens."

A strange vacant expression spread over the drunk's features and drool ran down from the corner of his mouth. His pupils widened and sweat broke out on his brow. "No, no. 'e was dressed in dark blue robes. Very nice ones, they were. 'e paid me and tol' me that the money was to keep me silence. Didn'na say 'is name. Didn'na say where 'e was goin' to. I didn'na hear him when 'e jumped outta the coach. 'e was jus' gone. Gone! If you know what I mean?" The face went slack and the hand holding the mug trembled. Snape stood and swept from the room, leaving a gold coin spinning on its edge until it clattered a moment later to the table. The drunk pulled the mug to his lips, spilling it down his chest as he chugged in large mouthfuls. His eyes never left the gold coin that rested on the table.

The hooded figure of Snape apparated to almost the exact spot that Harry had leapt from the moving carriage. The dark eyes studied the ground and spotted a few broken blades of grass and the edge of a boot print in a pool of mud. Snape surveyed the woods and the oncoming twilight. Wrapping his black full-length cloak around him with a dramatic sweep, he disapparated with a Pop.

Somewhere in the deep woods, a lone figure walked, unaware that his Potions Professor was tracking him.

Harry was exhausted and foot weary. The night was coming on and he had not reached the edge of the forest. It took even more energy to stop and listen and look behind him every so often to see if anyone was following him. At last he saw a little stream and stopped to wash his dusty, sweat-stained face. The woods were cooling off, and it would grow cold at night. But at the moment his mouth was parched and he was hot.

The fox stood immobilized across the little stream. Its' head was lowered and it watched him with feral eyes.

"What are you looking at?" Harry said softly.

The fox raised its head and shook it, cocking it to one side as if to say, 'Speak something I understand.' The yellow eyes followed his hand as he reached into the water and scooped it up to his lips. Harry did it several times, amused at how the fox watched his movements.

Suddenly he heard a noise behind him. Quickly gathering his bag he slid beneath the boughs of a trees and pulled his robe about him. He sat the bare feet of two children followed by that of a horse. The children were talking in a language he didn't understand. They stood in the water and let the horse drop its head and drink.

Harry held his breath, watching. It seemed an interminable time before the two boys pulled on the horses mane and started it moving. Just then a voice, that was familiar spoke. The elf stood in front of the boys. Both immediately dropped to their knees and said something in their own language. The elf, slightly taller than Vermillion nodded and spoke back to them in the same language.

They exchanged words and the elf gestured for the boys to move on. Harry hoped that he was well hidden. He had understood that Vermillion's people would not be happy if they found him.

The elf moved off, disappearing into the summer night as easily as Vermillion had done. Harry stayed beneath the tree and rested.

He woke and found the night dark. Insects serenaded in the tall grass and the little stream gurgled noisily past him. The fox was gone and Harry lay motionless trying to shake off his sleep. There wasn't any way to determine what the time was and he had forgotten his watch in his hurry to leave the Dursleys.

He lay looking out into the darkness. This time Harry knew when the elf was nearby. He wasn't prepared for him to be inches away from his ear when he spoke.

"Thee must not move or speak," the voice cautioned. "We have put a Shielding charm on thee, for there are curse-d Galgaloth nearby. Those thee calls Dementors." The soft wispy touch on his neck disappeared and Harry lay frozen staring out into the dark. His hand was nowhere near his wand and he couldn't risk making a noise to pull it from his sack.

He knew the minute the Dementors were near, for he felt the coldness and saw the darkness deepen. They moved with their rattling breath, drawing ever close, shaking him to the core. He could do nothing. He tried to empty his mind while he waited, feeling sticks and rocks stabbing painfully at his back.

The parchment had very little writing on it and Dumbledore sat back and studied the coal-black wall of the empty fireplace. His mind drifted. Snape had written.

I have been summoned. I have not found the object that interests you, but I am close, as are others, less friendly then myself.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Dumbledore mumbled, his hand passing over his brow unconsciously. He touched his wand to the paper and it burst into flames. He stood and dropped it into the empty fireplace grate and watched it dissolve in flames.