Disappear

Breakdown

"Hey Fred, George!"

The twins looked around to see Ron running up the garden towards them. They immediately hid their new invention behind them. Ron looked suspiciously at them.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Nothing," the twins replied in unison.

Ron looked like he was going to ask more but the news he had was clearly more important.

"Oh, doesn't matter. Anyway, you'll never guess what I overhead Emmeline telling mum and dad!" he said. "You know Harry Potter? Well, Emmeline says she saw him in the Leaky Cauldron!"

"What!"

"Yeah, I know. It's weird. She says he came out of the fireplace with his Deatheater mask on and then he took it off and said something like, 'It's alright. I'm not a Deatheater.'"

"Did he try to kill anyone?" said George excitedly.

Ron looked a bit doubtful. "Well, Emmeline said she tried to stun him and he dodged, but I guess he must've fired a few Unforgiveables."

"That is so cool," said Fred fervently. "Let's go tell Ginny."

Ron's reply was cut off by a shout coming from the road.

"Hey Ron!"

The three boys turned around quickly and stared. Harry Potter was standing outside their house.

*

Harry walked up the middle of the road, feeling better already. Ron wouldn't believe he was a Deatheater. Harry would go to see him and they would sort this mess out. Harry was sure there was some sort of reasonable explanation for why the Ministry was after him.

He stretched out his arms and spun around, ignoring the glances from Muggles, who probably thought he was wearing some kind of a black dress.

He turned back to walking up the road, resolutely ignoring the still unexplainable fact that he had seen three dead people in two days. There was probably a reasonable explanation for that as well. Maybe Voldemort had been planting visions in his mind or something.

The Burrow was just up ahead and Harry could hear faint voices coming from it. The Weasleys would be able to sort everything out. He ran the rest of the way when he saw three redheads standing outside the house.

"Hey Ron!" he yelled happily.

Ron turned around and Harry saw the twins were with him. All three were wearing identical expressions of shock. Harry started to run up but to his astonishment Fred immediately raised his wand and shot a curse at him. Harry acted quickly and jumped behind a nearby wall.

"Stop bloody trying to curse me!" he shouted. "I'm not a bloody Deatheater!"

There was no response and Harry gripped Malfoy's wand tightly. Maybe he'd have to disarm Ron and the twins before they'd listen. He heard footsteps on the gravel getting closer and he jumped up from behind the wall and fired a disarming curse. Fred's wand shot into Harry's hand but before he could disarm anyone else, George shot a stunning curse at him and he collapsed on the ground.

"Bloody hell," said Fred, staring at the crumpled black form on the ground. "Do you think he heard us talking about him?"

"What?" said George. "You mean like those Muggle movies where you say the guy's name three times and he suddenly appears and kills you?"

"I'm going to get mum and dad," said Ron staring at the figure.

"Yeah, go do that," said George shakily. "We'll make sure he doesn't move."

Fred nodded and very carefully moved closer to the Deatheater to try and get his wand back.

Ron ran up to the house and into the kitchen, where Ginny was animatedly telling Mr and Mrs Weasley some story. They all looked around when he came running in.

"Mum? Dad?" said Ron taking a deep breath and wearing an expression that suggested he was going to a funeral. "Harry Potter is outside in the garden and he's here to kill us."

Everyone froze. There was silence for a few seconds.

"This had better not be a joke," Mr Weasley finally managed.

"It's not a joke," said Ron quickly. "Me and Fred and George were talking about him and then he suddenly appeared outside the house because we said his name!"

"Because you said his name?" said Ginny doubtfully.

"Like those Muggle movies we saw!"

Mr Weasley looked very pale. He stood up and grabbed his wand and walked carefully over to the door. He looked outside and relaxed visibly. "At least he's unconscious," he said and motioned for the rest of the family to follow him.

*

Harry blinked slowly, trying to clear the blurriness in front of his eyes. His head ached. He tried to move but was stopped by something tying him down. He tried to move again but there was just a loud bang as something hit the floor. Harry sat there for a while before his dazed mind processed what had happened.

He was tied to a chair … there were people watching him … George had stunned him…

"Wha-?" Harry tried to say as he squinted around him. It was getting really annoying not having his glasses.

"He's awake," said one of the people. Harry stared at the person for a few seconds before realising it was Mr Weasley. Mrs Weasley and Percy were standing nearby.

"Wha-" Harry tried to say again. "What are you doing Mr Weasley?"

Harry recoiled when Mr Weasley stood up suddenly and jabbed his wand into Harry's throat. Harry swallowed and tried to press himself further into his chair. Mr Weasley had never acted like this before.

"What," said Mr Weasley in an uncharacteristically dangerous voice, "were you coming here to do?"

"I-I just," Harry started to say. "I just wanted to see Ron."

Mrs Weasley involuntarily turned to look at the door, where Harry assumed Ron, Ginny and the twins were eavesdropping. Mr Weasley looked even angrier at this answer.

"Are you saying-" he said through gritted teeth, pressing his wand harder against Harry's neck. "Are you saying that my son is a Deatheater? That he's some sort of ally of yours?"

"Ron's not a Deatheater!" Harry yelled, jerking his chair back from Mr Weasley with a clunk. "And neither am I! Why can't everyone leave me alone and stop trying to put me in Azkaban! I haven't done anything!"

Mr Weasley's reply was cut off by a banging on the door. Percy and Mr and Mrs Weasley swivelled around while Harry discreetly tried to look out of the window. He squinted. There were two Aurors standing outside banging on the door and looking angry.

It was amazing how much Harry had grown to fear Aurors. He paled and glanced fearfully at the three other people in the room. He opened his mouth, whether to plead for help or what, he didn't know, but was interrupted by the door flinging open.

"There are some Aurors at the door," said Ron breathlessly. "They say Harry Potter took a Knight Bus here and they're searching all the houses for him. What shall I tell them Dad?"

Mr Weasley looked suddenly unsure and Harry took his chance. He moved his chair forwards and grabbed Mr Weasley's robe as best as he could with tied hands.

"Please don't tell them I'm here," he begged. "I haven't done anything. I don't even know why they're chasing after me."

Mr Weasley fixed his eye on Harry and stared at him contemplatively. "You really don't remember anything?" he asked.

"I don't," said Harry quickly, knowing it was lie, but sensing it was best just to agree with them.

Mr Weasley hesitated and glanced over at the door again.

"Please don't," Harry said. "Get Dumbledore first at least. He can - he can sort this out."

"Dumbledore would want to know first," Percy said quietly. "And he is in charge of you-know-what."

Ron looked a bit mystified by all this 'you-know-what' business but Mr Weasley nodded. Harry smiled suddenly in relief, the first real smile since all of this had started. The four Weasley's stared at him and Harry fidgeted a bit under their gaze, feeling uncomfortable.

"Er-thanks," he said awkwardly, thinking that was what they were expecting him to say.

Mr Weasley motioned at Mrs Weasley to follow and whispered something in Percy's ear. The door slammed shut a second later.

Harry stared at Percy and Ron for a second and then carefully leaned back on his chair until it was leaning against the wall. He pressed his ear against the wall and tried to listen. He glanced at Percy and Ron but they didn't seem particularly bothered by this. In fact, Ron had just got out two extendable ears and was already handing one to Percy.

Harry turned away from them and tried to concentrate on eavesdropping as best as he could. He couldn't hear very much but he heard muffled voices as Mr Weasley told the Aurors outside some excuse to make them go away.

Footsteps passed close by to where Harry assumed the kitchen was. Next thing he heard was Mr Weasley's voice clearly saying "Albus Dumbledore!"

Harry's foot twitched, this was it. Dumbledore would believe him, of course he would. After everything that had happened last year there was no way he couldn't. He had to believe him … he had to…

"…Harry Potter here," Mr Weasley said. "Could be … too dangerous here … alert Ministry…"

Harry frowned and tried to press himself further into the wall, annoyed that he couldn't hear better. The next few words were just a blur to Harry but the next sentence came out remarkably clear.

"Don't untie him until I get there," came Dumbledore's voice. "I want to question him before he gets taken to Azkaban."

There was a loud snapping noise and Harry jerked back from the wall. His throat felt very tight. Dumbledore thought he was a Deatheater. Dumbledore. Dumbledore! He felt dizzy and there was a strange ringing noise in his ears.

Harry looked down. The ropes that had been tying him were in pieces around him. That had been the snapping noise…

Suddenly Harry jumped up and barrelled into Ron, as though he had been planning this all along.

Socked, Ron fought back but Harry's anger was stronger and in a few seconds he had Ron in a headlock with his wand pointed at the back of his head.

"Let me past, Percy," said Harry, feeling as though someone else was talking. "Or Ron gets it."

He tightened his grip on Ron's throat for emphasis and Percy paled and moved aside from the door. Carefully Harry edged out of the door, still holding onto Ron, keeping his eye on Percy in case he did anything.

Mr Weasley and Dumbledore were still talking when Harry entered the kitchen, dragging a struggling Ron with him. They stopped the instance they saw him, and Dumbledore's head fixed Harry with a piercing look from the fireplace.

"Ron!" Mrs Weasley burst out in panic.

"Let go of my son," said Mr Weasley in a barely controlled voice, clenching his fists.

Harry shook his head distractedly and tried to ignore him.

He turned to Dumbledore and said in a wavering voice close to tears, "Why didn't you believe me Dumbledore? I thought that after everything that happened last year you would trust me. I thought you-you weren't going to lie to me anymore."

When Dumbledore spoke it was in a very calm and gentle voice. "We can discuss this Harry, if you wish, after you put Ron Weasley down."

Harry was shaking. "No," he said. He was feeling anger rising up in him again. Dumbledore was talking to him like he was a kid. He still wasn't taking him seriously. "No, you had your chance Dumbledore. I'm-I'm going."

And with that he threw Ron into Mr Weasley and ran out of the door onto the road.

Harry hated this. He hated running away from people. He hated it when people didn't believe him. In other words, he hated everything about this situation.

One of the twins sent a stunning curse at him and Harry swerved to the right to avoid it. He pelted down the village road, running towards the outskirts of the village, thinking that the Aurors would be somewhere in the centre of the village.

His legs were starting to get tired now. He glanced behind him and saw that Mr Weasley and the twins were still running after him. Seeing a stile in the hedgerows he quickly vaulted over it and ran down the footpath, which led quickly into a forest.

Perfect, he thought, more space to lose the twins and Mr Weasley. He ran down a steep bank to the right, wincing as he ran through a patch of nettles, jumped over a stream at the bottom of the hill and sprinted to the left.

The hill on his right was starting to get really steep now and as there wasn't much cover on the footpath he was on, Harry started to climb up the hill, grabbing onto tree branches to pull himself up.

He couldn't see the stream for all the trees in the way, which he assumed was a good thing, as it meant no one else could see him. The Weasleys were splashing around down below and Harry heard one of the twins swear when he got stung by a nettle.

"Bloody nettles," said one of the twins. "Bloody Hackfall woods. Face it dad, we've lost him. We'd better firecall the Ministry or the Order and tell them to start searching the surrounding area."

Harry sat very quietly in the tree he was perched on and waited until he heard the Weasley's footsteps fade. He was shaking again, probably from the cold. He had to get of here, Aurors were going to search the place. They probably had charms to find out where people were hiding.

He dropped quietly from the tree, landing in sticky mud. His eyes scanned the surroundings, screwed up against the dusk light. He had to find somewhere to hide first, somewhere as far away from this forest as possible.

*

Harry crept into the town. It was dark by now and the only people out were drunk teenagers. He could stay here until the morning. After that, well, he wasn't sure if there were any wizards around. And he wasn't going to wait around to find out.

His footsteps sounded very loud in the silence of the night but Harry tried to comfort himself by thinking that no one would awake at this time, and even if they were, they'd probably be watching TV.

There was a church up ahead and Harry ran towards it gratefully. Maybe it would all be all right. He could curl up to sleep against the door and in the morning he'd wake up and everything would be okay. Of course it would.

Harry carefully sat down and leaned against the door, rubbing his legs where they had been stung by nettles. He shifted around a bit, trying to get comfy and rested his head against the cold door.

In about an hour he began to dream.

He was sitting in a chair, chains tying him down; surrounding by the Wizengamot. Umbridge was standing in front of him, a foul black bow perched on top of her hair.

"The accused is present!" shouted Umbridge. "How do you plead, Mr Potter, to the claims that you used Cruciatus, on Bellatrix Lestrange, a fine upstanding woman and a valued member of the Wizarding community?"

"He's guilty!" came a shriek from Bellatrix. "He did it!"

"How do you plead?" Umbridge repeated.

"I-uh," Harry stuttered. "Well, I-uh did but-"

"Guilty!" shrieked Bellatrix again.

"But I only did it because of what she did!" Harry yelled. "She killed Sirius! It was her! You should be putting her in Azkaban!"

"Guilty," said Umbridge in a self-satisfactory way. "100 years in Azkaban."

"No!" Harry shouted at Umbridge. "That's not fair!"

But Umbridge just looked at him in her froggy way … and then she was a frog, grabbing a fly out of the air with her long tongue.

"No, no," Harry murmured, twisting around in his sleep. "It was Bellatrix. She did it. Don't send me to Azkaban. I didn't do anything … I didn't … I didn't…"

"Get up," said a new voice suddenly.

Harry opened his eyes blearily. Someone was standing over him, someone with long dark hair.

"Sirius?" said Harry, confused.

Someone laughed. A woman. "I don't think so. You should be grateful it isn't him though. He's out for blood apparently. Now get up."

Harry blinked, his vision becoming clearer. "I didn't do anything. I'm innocent."

Another Auror, a man, grabbed onto his arms and pulled him up sharply. "Shut up," he said, roughly tying Harry's hands together.

Harry struggled against the man. "No. Get off me. Let me go!" he said, his voice cracking with panic. "Don't send me to Azkaban."

"I'm sorry Potter," said the woman. "But there really isn't anywhere else you can go. Unless of course, you can prove you weren't there at there at the murders of about twenty people."

The other Auror snorted.

Panic was rising in Harry. He felt like he was on the edge of insanity. He kicked out at the man and tried to free himself when he felt the swirling sensation of a porkey. He landed a second later in the foyer of the Ministry of Magic. The two Aurors grips on his arm had not lessened.

The two Aurors led him over to a man behind the desk, who looked up and paled when he saw Harry.

"We're here to escort the Deatheater Harry Potter to a secure holding cell," said the female Auror smoothly.

"Er-go right ahead," said the man.

"No-wait, you can't do this," Harry said in panic. "I haven't done anything."

The two Aurors said nothing and Harry felt a sort of suicidal urge rise up in him. He kicked the female Auror in the leg and tried to pull himself free. The woman swore and the male Auror hit Harry across the face.

"Let me go!" Harry screamed, kicking and scratching and biting the Aurors in a desperate attempt to escape. "Let me go!"

Harry kicked out at the two Aurors and yelled and the Aurors tried desperately to shut him up, or at least reach their wands to stun him. Between the three of them, they had created a fairly big disturbance. The flow of Ministry witches and wizards walking to their jobs had stopped as mostly everyone in the main foyer stopped to watch.

Harry's failed escape attempt ended abruptly when a new person grabbed both his arms and twisted them cruelly behind his back. Harry gasped and froze at the pain.

"Finished with your little tantrum?" said a voice in his ear.

It was Sirius. He wasn't dead. Harry trembled and then, quite abruptly, started to cry.

The hands holding Harry's arms behind his back loosened in shock. Harry wanted to sit down; he wanted someone to hold him. He didn't want to be standing in the middle of the Ministry crying.

There were whispers now, as people stared at the sight of Harry Potter crying. Harry hated them. Couldn't they look somewhere else?

Sirius loosened Harry's arms and tried to turn him around, to lead him down to a cell, but Harry abruptly flung his arms around Sirius, crying into his chest. Sirius stopped in shock but it didn't last for very long. He pulled Harry off him angrily, convinced this was some sort of trick, and tied his hand behind his back with a charm and started to pull him through the foyer down to the maximum security cells.

Harry was still crying, though he was trying desperately to stop. It felt like he was crying for everything bad that had ever happened to him, for all the times he hadn't cried. He couldn't run anymore. He was going to have to face up to everyone, no matter what the consequences.