Harry Potter and the Seeker of the Shadows

Harry Potter and the Seeker of the Shadows

Chapter One: Betrayal

Harry Potter slumped at the window of his room in Privet Drive. His green eyes were fixed on the sky, and the nearly full moon that filled his vision was distorted by tears. Some might have thought it odd to see a fifteen year old boy - a young man, really - crying, for the world harbours the strange notion that a man should not cry ... but if they had had any conception what Harry had gone through, they would have understood his tears.

Just over a week ago, Harry had made his way through the final event in a competition comprising of three tasks. With him had been a fellow contestant from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Cedric Diggory. They had been rivals in Quidditch as well as the Triwizard Tournament, and were fairly evenly matched.

In fact, they were so evenly matched that they had both reached the Cup at the same time, although Harry had had to save Cedric's life at one point when one of the other Champions had been temporarily bewitched by a servant of the Dark and had tried to kill, or at least delay, Cedric.

Minutes later, Cedric was dead at the hands of another of the Dark Lord's servants and Harry had been helpless to do anything to prevent the tragedy. He could still remember Cedric's form lying sprawled across the ground, his sightless eyes staring up at the starry sky above, almost as if he wondered what had happened, how his life had been stolen so fast.

Harry had watched the Dark Lord Voldemort return to strength ... and he had seen his parents for the first time in his life. They had come out of Voldemort's wand when the brother bond between his and Harry's wand had been activated and had helped him to victory. As often as Cedric's sprawled form had haunted Harry's dreams in the week since the event, the ghostly forms of his parents, smiling sadly at him, had taken Cedric's place.

They had helped Harry escape from Voldemort, and Harry, at Cedric's request, had taken the dead boy's body back to Hogwarts, babbling that Lord Voldemort had returned. The Ministry had refused to believe him, though Harry wasn't surprised. He had never liked Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, thinking the man was too soft for the role that he had assumed. Dumbledore said that Fudge had been blinded by the love of the office he held, and Harry could only agree.

Harry knew that the only reason anyone had paid any attention to him when he said that the Dark Lord had returned was because he had returned with a dead body clutched in his hands and there was no other way to explain what had happened. Not one that people would believe anyway.

Harry sometimes wondered if Fudge had told anyone the story that Harry had told him, but when he thought it over, he decided that Fudge would have told them, but only because of the Cedric's otherwise unexplainably dead form. If Cedric had never died, Harry felt sure that Fudge would have tried to smooth everything over and pretend that nothing had happened.

Well, Harry thought viciously, let him. I'll be proved right soon enough. No one can argue with solid proof and soon enough Voldemort will show himself and the world will see that Fudge has been leading them wrongly, that they've blindly trusted an utter fool.

Harry knew that Voldemort had yet to reveal himself to the Wizarding World simply because he knew that he would feel it when Voldemort started killing people. So far his scar had only burned with pain on a couple of occasions, and on both of those Harry was inexplicably sure that this was because he was torturing his followers for not doing what he wanted them to.

He wondered what Voldemort was waiting for, but the one letter that he had sent to Professor Dumbledore asking about this had been returned with a simple message saying, "Voldemort is biding his time as yet. I can only hope that I can stop what he is trying to achieve. Stay where you are and do not get into any trouble at all. If you do, I cannot assure you that I can do anything to help you. -Albus Dumbledore."

It had been completely unhelpful, not to mention dissatisfying, and Harry was still pacing around his room wondering what he was going to do, wondering what was going on in the Wizarding world, wishing that there was someone who would tell him what was going on. He knew that Sirius would tell him, but he also knew that Sirius was out doing something for Dumbledore and he wasn't sure if Hedwig would be able to find him, should he send her out to look for his godfather.

The Dursleys were still in fear of Sirius Black, a man who had been convicted of murdering thirteen people with a single curse, when in fact only twelve people had actually died, and the thirteenth one had been the one to kill them in the first place.

However, they were also furious with Harry. The summer before, the Weasley's had come to pick Harry up and take him to the Quidditch World cup, and Fred and George had managed to get Dudley to eat what they had named a 'Ton Tongue Toffee', which had made Harry's cousin's tongue swell and grow to enormous proportions. The Dursleys were, needless to say, not in the least bit happy with Harry about that.

Harry shook his head, clearing his mind of thoughts of his relatives and going back to contemplating the Ministry of Magic. He was sure that Fudge would be saying something along the lines of Harry being delusional and searching for fame, and he was sure that Lucius Malfoy, one of the Death Eaters, if only the Ministry would realise it, would be helping the tale along, with presents of gold to make sure that people believed it.

Harry's emerald eyes narrowed in intense anger and dislike. He hated Mr. Malfoy, and he could not understand why the Ministry of Magic, in particular the Minister, listened to everything that the man said. Sure, the man gave them a lot of gold for their cooperation, but surely the Ministry couldn't be as corrupt as all that?

Well, maybe it could, at that. Harry was disgusted to think that the very organization the Wizarding World relied upon to keep it safe was listening to man Harry knew was a Death Eater simply because he paid them for listening to him. Utterly disgusting, was Harry's only view on the subject.

Anger scorched away his grief for the moment, and with his despair momentarily forgotten, Harry could wipe the trails of tears from his face without the knowledge that they would simply be replaced again with fresh. As he looked out over the sleeping town of Little Whinging, he saw an owl sweeping toward him overhead, framed against the rising moon.

He knew that it must be for him, because, as far as he knew, there were no other wizards in the town, and certainly none who lived near him. Sure enough, it angled down and headed straight for Harry's open window. He stepped aside and waited within, wondering who the owl had come from.

He didn't think it was from either Ron or Hermione, both of whom had been sending him letters almost daily to try and assure him that Voldemort's return and Cedric's death were not his fault, but Harry wasn't paying the least bit of attention to the letters - he knew that it wasn't his fault, exactly, but that didn't stop him from blaming himself for what had happened. He knew it was stupid, but he couldn't help but feel that way.

Soon enough the owl swooped through the window, and Harry was immediately sure that it had not come from either of his friends. It had an official look to it, and so he wondered if it was from Hogwarts, or perhaps the Ministry of Magic. It also crossed his mind that it could have been sent from one of his enemies, but he somehow didn't think it was.

The creature landed heavily on top of Hedwig's cage, and Harry's owl gave a soft hoot of annoyance when the cage rattled loudly. The new-comer hooted apologetically and held out its foot so that Harry could remove the letter from it. Harry looked carefully at the letter and its seal before he took it from the bird. The seal said that it was from Hogwarts, and the envelope certainly looked as though it could have come from there.

Harry hesitated for a moment before he opened the letter, wondering if it could still have come from someone harmful ... but somehow he was sure that it hadn't. Perhaps Dumbledore had sent him some proper news this time. That thought overcame the last of his shortcomings, and he quickly opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

He felt no sudden pull behind his navel, so he knew that it wasn't a Portkey sent to try and bring him before Voldemort yet again. He flicked open the letter and began to read; by the time he was finished, his face was pale with anger and his eyes stony and harsh.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It grieves me to inform you that, against my wishes and councils, the Minister of Magic has come to the decision, with the full support of the Wizengamot, which has decided that it no longer needs me at its head, that your claim of the fact that Lord Voldemort had returned just over a week ago was simply a farce to hide the fact that you murdered Cedric Diggory so as to clear your way to the Triwizard Cup, and that Barty Crouch Jr.,(they have managed to come to the decision that he is in fact the son of the late Barty Crouch) was an aide because you had promised him half of the winnings when you got them. It is preposterous, but the Ministry seems to think that it is better for things to be like this than to acknowledge the return of Lord Voldemort. It was a sad day for the Wizarding world when Cornelius Fudge came to office.

I am terribly sorry for this, and I am sure that it must come as quite a shock to you, but then, Cornelius has a habit of disbelieving and ignoring things that he feels might be a threat to his success and office, simply because that is what they are. I said last year that he has come to love his office more than the trust that the people put in him to protect them, and I fear that was truer than I knew at the time.

He refuses to act on the information that you, Severus and I gave him, and continues to ignore the advice of both myself and Severus, and instead, he judges that we, too, were a part of this 'plot', despite the fact that just a year gone he had been offering the Order of Merlin, possibly first class, to Severus for capturing Sirius Black and that my Potions Master obviously hated you. He has decided that my part in this was to overthrow him as Minister and take on the position myself, despite the fact that I have never shown the slightest inclination of trying to take over from him, nor have I ever accepted the nominations in the first place. I am quite certain that a certain Lucius Malfoy is not aiding matters in the least.

You are to be arrested tomorrow afternoon, I feel obliged to inform you, although no one should know of this until after the event itself, but a friend of mine was able to get the information to me, believing your story to be the correct one. I will not give their name here, in case this should fall into the wrong hands. I'm sure you will understand, and will not wish to endanger those who support you.

I acted immediately on the information and contacted your old friend Snuffles, as he insists on being called in letters, and he is more than happy to give you any help that you might need. He was in the area in any case, on an errand for me, and will meet you in front of the local Marks & Spencer tomorrow morning at eleven o'clock. Bring with you everything that you believe you might need, or want. What you leave behind will no doubt be confiscated, and destroyed if it holds no clue as to what has happened to you. I might also add that you need not worry about using Underage Magic, because you need to get out of there, and will be arrested in any case should the Ministry catch up with you. A further charge against you will not matter much, to my way of thinking.

I warn you not to leave anything that might link you to Snuffles here, as this will probably do nothing but give the Ministry the proof that what Fudge claims is the right of the matter, and place both you and he in more danger than before. If they do not know where you are, or who you are with, all the better for us, because that way they will spend more time searching for you, hopefully in the wrong places.

I have more than one friend in the Ministry, and these friends will do their best to lay false trails and make sure that you are given the opportunity to get as far as way from the Magical world as possible. I'm sure that Padfoot will have many ideas as to where you can hide, and I sincerely hope that we will meet again one fine day soon, when all of this has blown over and the Ministry has realised who the real criminals are.

Destroy this letter before you leave, if not immediately after you have read it, and be as careful as you can in the upcoming months, though I'm sure that Padfoot will give you all of the tips and help that you could need or want. He won't let anything happen to you.

Yours in haste,

Albus Dumbledore.

Harry was quivering in anger. That the Ministry should believe that he had killed Cedric Diggory, that they were listening to Lucius Malfoy, all because of his gold, that they should try to arrest him for doing nothing wrong ...!

His faith in the Ministry, never strong, was now completely destroyed. As he tore the letter into shreds, then chewed them into a small ball and swallowed them, the best that he could do to destroy it, Harry swore to himself that he would never again place himself under Fudge's jurisdiction, even if he was ever granted the opportunity to return to the Wizarding world.

Although it was not yet midnight, Harry knew that he had to move fast, and rather than sleep, which he hardly felt like anyway, he wandered around his room, trying to decide what he would need for the time ahead. His trunk, which he had yet to unpack, was lying at the base of his bed. He tore everything out of it, then looked carefully at all the things that were lying on the floor.

After some consideration, he folded up and stored away most of the clothes that were hand-me-downs from Dudley, both because they were horrible and because he doubted that they would be practical. He would have to avoid the Muggle world as well as the Wizarding one, and he would rather wear his robes which at least fitted him properly.

He packed a couple of the better fitting articles of clothing into the bottom of his trunk, along with socks and other pieces of underwear, and his Hogwarts robes. Next in where some of his Hogwarts books, particularly Quidditch Through the Ages. He knew that Sirius probably knew all of the stuff that he was learning in school anyway, so he didn't think that his school books were particularly important. None the less, he kept most of his last year's texts, just on the off-chance that he would need them.

All of the rest of his books he stacked up neatly on his desk. He also left some parchment, an old inkwell and a few of his quills which he didn't particularly like. He packed his favourite quills, his spare inkbottle and a few sheaves of parchment, also just in case.

He stepped back to survey his work for a moment. His Invisibility Cloak was down at the very bottom of the trunk, where it always stayed when he wasn't using it, and once Harry had dragged his Firebolt out from under the bed and set it beside his trunk, he knew that he was ready.

It had only taken him an hour to pack, and soon he lay down to try and get some sleep. He had no doubt that tomorrow would turn out to be a very busy day indeed.

His last thought before drifting into the realm of dreams was that at least he would be able to spend more time getting to know his godfather, if they were on the run together, and so it was that, despite everything, Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face.

"Master, I have convinced Fudge that his idle speculation about the Potter boy being a murderer could be true, and the rest of the Ministry fell in step almost instantly. I hope that I have been able to aid your plans in some way, however small that might be."

It was Lucius Malfoy, the father of Harry's greatest enemy in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, kneeling at the feet of Lord Voldemort, a tall pale-skinned man with a lipless mouth and slit snake-like nostrils. His eyes, demon red, glowed eerily in the darkness, and Harry shivered. Lucius Malfoy sounded so ridiculously happy to please the Dark Lord that Harry felt like trying to kill the man then and there for being weak enough to give in to slavery to the Dark Lord.

"Who are you to think that you aid me? Who are you to even suggest that I might need the assistance of anyone else? But since you have managed to lessen the tasks that I would have done myself, I will not punish you. This time. If it happens again, you will regret it, Lucius, if you continue to act without my prior approval, you will find yourself hindering my plans, rather than helping them, and for that, you would have to pay dearly," Voldemort hissed at the man prostrate before him, and Harry shuddered again. There was no mercy in Voldemort's heart, that much was for certain. He remembered that Dumbledore had once said something like, "Lord Voldemort shows as much mercy to followers as he does to his enemies," and Harry was seeing the proof that was indeed true.

Wormtail entered the room, and Harry snarled softly, silently as far as those in the room were concerned, though he could hear himself. It was Wormtail who had betrayed Harry's parents, Wormtail who had killed Cedric Diggory and brought Voldemort back from the grave, and Wormtail who had killed the people that the world thought Sirius had. All of Harry's current troubles could be laid at the feet of this single vile excuse for a human being.

'My lord, there is no word on the giants,' he began before realizing that there was another in the room. He didn't have the time to apologize for his oversight before the Cruciatus curse hit him in the chest and he fell screaming.

Harry jerked from the dream into the waking world with a cry of pain.

He woke just before the sun was up the next morning and for a moment he wondered what his trunk was doing packed so neatly; then he remembered the events of the night before. Once more his anger at the Ministry mounted, but so did his excitement at the prospect of seeing his godfather again.

He went downstairs and made himself breakfast, knowing that if he waited to eat for too long, the Dursley's would awaken, and try to punish him, or give him extra chores, then headed back upstairs to pace up and down his room while he waited for eleven o'clock to tick nearer and nearer. The Dursleys didn't bother to disturb him as they got up, beginning their own morning routine as if he had never existed in their lives.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia got up and went downstairs. Aunt Petunia made breakfast and kissed Uncle Vernon goodbye as he headed off to work at Grunnings. Dudley remained snoring in the room next door, oblivious. He wouldn't be up until around ten in the morning, Harry knew.

Harry opened Hedwig's cage and sent her to Dumbledore with a note saying that he would be waiting for Sirius at the appointed place and time, and thanking him for the warning. He didn't want his owl to get in trouble for what he had done, and he knew that he couldn't take her with him yet, but he was sure that Professor Dumbledore would get her back to him at some point in the future.

Finally, the clock ticked over to half past ten, and Harry knew that it was time to leave. Bearing in mind what Dumbledore had said in his letter, Harry whipped out his wand and touched it to his trunk, which shrunk immediately. Harry tucked it, and his broomstick, into his pocket and headed downstairs. Soon enough an owl would arrive from the Ministry of Magic advising him that he had broken the law. He knew this from prior experience.

Aunt Petunia was pottering around in the kitchen as Harry hurried downstairs, and completely ignored his fast departure, as he had known she would. When the owl arrived with the news that he had broken the law, she would regret ignoring him, but for now, she could remain happily oblivious to the whole thing.

He hurried through the residential area of Little Whinging and soon found himself on the High Street. There was the Marks & Sparks, and standing out on the street in front of it was a leather-clad man wearing a helmet and standing beside an enormous motorbike. The passers-by were giving him a wide berth, and Harry didn't blame them; the man did not particularly pleasant.

Harry walked straight passed him, heading for the pavement next the doors to wait for Sirius, when the man turned from his bike and reached out a hand to touch Harry's sleeve. Harry jerked around to face him in surprise, hand going automatically for his wand.

"Easy Harry, it's me," a familiar voice murmured so softly that anyone standing much further away than Harry was would not have heard a word that had been said.

"Sirius?" Harry enquired, just as softly.

"Of course," Sirius replied. "We'd better get out of here. I take it you used magic to get your stuff away from the Dursleys' - that means that the Ministry will be alerted to the fact that something has gone wrong, and will come to investigate. When they find you gone ..."

"Right," Harry nodded. "What do I need to do?"

Sirius laughed softly and handed Harry a second helmet. "Put this on, for the minute. I've taken care of everything else." Once Harry had the helmet adjusted to his satisfaction, Sirius gestured for him to get on the back of the bike.

Harry did so and wrapped his arms tightly around Sirius's waist while his godfather gunned the engines into life and took off down the road as fast as the vehicle would carry them. It was time to get out of here. Sirius swerved through the intersections and around the roundabouts with a surety that came from familiarity. Somehow, Harry decided, his godfather had spent some time in Little Whinging before now, and obviously knew his way around quite well.

Finally they moved out of the housing area of the large town and down a road that went passed the great forest that bordered the down. Harry recalled that there was an old mansion somewhere in the forest, which had been abandoned for years because everyone thought that it was haunted.

As Sirius turned off the main road and onto a fairly unused country track, Harry knew suddenly that it was to the abandoned mansion that they were going. Well, at least they would be sure of having some privacy in this place. It wasn't as if anyone from Little Whinging would come anywhere near the mansion - it would have ruined their reputations entirely to be seen in a place like that.

Sure enough, Sirius soon pulled up outside the deserted mansion. It looked for all the world as if it was going to fall down at any moment, and Harry wasn't entirely sure that it wouldn't. "Is this place safe?" he asked Sirius, glancing around.

"Sure it is," his godfather assured him with a wink. "I've been here already and put up a couple of charms, nothing's gonna come down around our heads or anything, you may rest assured of that!" Sirius tapped his wand against the motorbike, and, quite suddenly, it was the size of a toy, which he tucked into his pocket for safe keeping. "That way if by some turn of chance anyone actually comes here, they won't know anyone else is here," Sirius remarked.

Harry smiled, taking off his helmet, which was hot and uncomfortable. Sirius took off his own, and Harry suddenly threw himself forward and wrapped himself around his godfather's waist. He was still rather short for someone his age, and his godfather was quite a bit taller than he was, but Harry didn't mind. He was finally in the company of someone who genuinely cared about him.

Sirius seemed surprised for a moment, then returned the hug happily enough. "Come on inside," he said, when Harry released him. Harry suddenly realised that he couldn't stop smiling as he tucked his hand into his godfather's and walked into the house.

It was dank and dusty inside, and the place seemed very breezy but Harry didn't care. As long as he was with Sirius, he didn't really mind about anything much. Besides, anywhere was better than Number Four, Privet Drive.

"It's not the nicest place in the world," Sirius remarked, looking around, "But it'll do for someplace to spend the night, that's for sure."

"The night?" Harry asked.

"We can't stay here for long, Harry," Sirius smiled in return. "We're heading up towards my place, but we'll move slowly, through unpopulated areas, just to make sure we avoid the attention of anyone who might be looking for either of us."

"You have a house?" Harry asked.

A look of dislike crept over Sirius's wasted face as he nodded. "In a manner of speaking," he remarked. "I don't particularly like it, but I'm sure it'll be more bearable there when I have some constant company. Dumbledore's around a little bit, but he's busy trying to keep in touch with those few people who support him in the Ministry, and doesn't have much time for men on the run at present."

It was as if Sirius's casual comment about the Headmaster had unleashed a torrent of questions in Harry's mind, and he wasn't going to be happy until he could ask some of them.

"What happened to Dumbledore? Where's Professor Lupin? What's the Ministry doing? What about Voldemort? Why hasn't he come out into the open yet?" he asked, all in one breath.

Sirius held up a hand to stem the flow, and Harry cut off before he could voice the next question on his list, which would have been, How are the Weasleys?

"Fudge has turned against Dumbledore, and he's trying to turn everyone else in the Wizarding world against him too," Sirius said grimly. "Remus is doing what he can to help out, he's staying at my place most of the time but leaves whenever Dumbledore needs him. The Ministry is concerning itself with trying to strip Dumbledore of any power and influence he might have, and unfortunately, they seem to be succeeding. As to Voldemort ... well, I'm fairly sure that he's staying out of things so that by the time he does come back, Dumbledore is so destabilised that he can come in and take over the Wizarding world the minimum resistance."

Harry digested this slowly, and then nodded. "I guess that sounds reasonable," he said reluctantly. "How have you been?"

"Until now? Pretty bored. It took me all of a day to get around to the Old Crowd, and ever since I've been locked up in my house while everyone else is out being useful," Sirius sighed. "Six days and I'm already starting to want out ... the only thing I have to do is clean house, which I can assure you is not fun."

"I know," Harry assured him with a faint smile.

"OK, get me your trunk and I'll restore it to its proper size," Sirius said, and Harry pulled out both trunk and broomstick, setting them down on a rickety table. Sirius took out his wand and quickly murmured a charm over the two items, and in a second Harry's things were rightly sized again.

Sirius took Harry's trunk and gestured to his godson to get the broom. "Come with me upstairs, I've got a couple of things to give you," Sirius said with a grin.

Harry picked up his broom and followed Sirius up a damp, decaying staircase a little nervously, because it looked as though it might collapse at any minute. "Don't worry," Sirius said, glancing back down at Harry, "The stair is fine, I've got supporting charms in place to make sure that you won't fall down."

Harry nodded and moved with a little more surety. Upstairs Sirius wandered into what once have been the master bedroom. A king-sized bed with mouldy covers was in one corner, covered in dust, and there were various other bits of bedroom furniture scattered around the room. Sirius dropped Harry's trunk and went to the wardrobe, leaning inside and then coming out with his arms full of clothing.

"Here Harry - you need something decent to wear. They should fit - I modelled them on some of James' old clothes," Sirius told Harry, pushing the bundle into his arms. "Why don't you try them on?" he was retreating from the bedroom to give Harry some privacy before Harry could open his mouth.

With a shrug, Harry stripped off Dudley's old cast-offs and changed into the blue jeans and black t-shirt that was on top of the pile of clothes that Sirius had gotten him. There was a new pair of trainers at the bottom of the pile, and Harry was very happy to change out of the pair that he was currently wearing - they'd been falling to pieces when he got them, and they'd only gotten worse.

"You done?" Sirius called softly from outside.

"Yeah," Harry replied, and Sirius slipped immediately inside.

"Stay quiet," he told Harry, "There's a group of fat kids outside, they seem to be coming toward the house."

Harry went over to the dusty window and peered out of it. Sure enough, on the path leading to the house were a group of kids, and Harry recognised Dudley out in the lead. "That's my cousin, the one that's leading them," he remarked. "I guess they must have come here on a dare - it's supposed to be haunted, you know. They had to come to prove that they're the bravest kids around."

"You don't like your cousin, do you?" Sirius asked, with an interested expression on his face.

"Not particularly, why?"

"I reckon we should have a bit of fun with them before they leave," Sirius replied, a smile forming on his face.

"What do you suggest?" Harry asked. He would love to get Dudley back for all of the things that his cousin had done to him, particularly before they found out that Harry was a wizard.

"Well, they look like they're trying to get up the courage to come into the house. If you wait until they come inside, then run at them and bark, they'll be running as fast as their fat legs can carry them all the way back to their homes," Harry remarked. The only thing wrong with this option was that it meant that Harry couldn't do anything himself - but he could still watch, and know that it was him who'd come up with the idea.

"Works for me," Sirius said, then shifted form and headed downstairs before Harry could say anything else. He heard Sirius padding softly down the stairs again and then the noise stopped, so obviously Sirius had found some shadows to hide in and was waiting for the group of delinquents to come inside. Harry peered down from the dusty window and watched as, slowly, Dudley's gang crept up toward the veranda out in front of the house, and just as slowly mounted the steps, edging toward the door, each trying not to be the first on inside. After a time, Dudley got bored of waiting and shoved everyone else out of his way, pushing the door open and walking inside.

The moment he turned around to smirk at his friends and tell them how brave he was, Sirius charged, barking and snarling like one of Hell's own hounds. Dudley screamed, and suddenly the entire gang was fighting to try and get out of the house and away.

Harry sat up there and laughed as he watched his fat cousin do his best to waddle away from Sirius, who came only to the bottom of the porch steps and remained there, fur bristling, hackles up, barking furiously until Dudley and his gang were far out of sight.

Then Sirius came back upstairs and grinned at Harry, "You look good in proper clothing," he remarked, "And that was fun. They won't be back to bother us!"

Harry grinned back for a moment, but the smile died as quickly as it had come. "No, but they all like exaggeration - they'll be telling their parents that you tried to rip them to pieces, or that there were ten dogs set against them by some mad old man, mostly to try and convince themselves that they only ran away because there was no way that they could fight against you."

Sirius looked thoughtful, "That means we really should get out of here quickly," he remarked, checking his watch. "It's almost twelve. The Ministry will be turning up to arrest you any moment now, so we need to avoid any place where they might look for us. We'll need to stay within the forest, because we can keep ourselves out of sight here."

Harry nodded.

Sirius suddenly looked at him, "Can I have your wand for a minute?" he asked, and Harry handed it over without thinking twice.

Sirius touched his own wand to Harry's, and they glowed brightly for a time, then the glow subsided and Sirius handed Harry his wand back. "What did you do?" Harry asked.

"It's a spell to get rid of the Ministry tracking device on your wand," Sirius replied with a smile, "James and I discovered it in the holidays after our sixth year. Now you can perform magic without getting messages from the Ministry telling you that you are breaking the law, and they can't use that to trace your location."

Harry nodded, and tucked his wand back into his pocket. "Where to now? Outside?"

"Yeah. There's one other house in this forest, an abandoned shepherds hut. It's small and not particularly comfortable, but it'll keep us safe for the night before we head off again in the morning."

Harry nodded and they headed downstairs again.

---

Back in Privet Drive, earlier that morning

Petunia Dursley shrieked as an owl soared through the open kitchen window to land on the kitchen table. Since her husband had gone to work, and her son was still fast asleep, she edged toward it herself and slowly took the letter that it held. Immediately the bird took off and headed back outside.

Aunt Petunia opened the letter and read through it. Her eyes scanned over the letter quickly, then she let go of the letter, letting it flutter onto the table top and went upstairs to find her nephew, but he was gone. Oh well, he'd be back soon enough - he spent a lot of time out walking around the neighbourhood these days, but would probably turn up again for lunch. Oh, she would be looking forward to that.

She went to the telephone and phoned her husband.

"Hello you've reached Grunnings, this is Vernon Dursley speaking," her husband's voice came across the line.

"Vernon, it's Petunia," she said excitedly, and Vernon's tone changed from boredom to interest.

"Petunia, what are you calling for?"

"An owl just came here," Petunia said distastefully, and Vernon started muttering something about getting his nephew for making them put up with the bloody birds. "It's alright, it brought good news. They've expelled him for doing magic. He's not in the house now, but when he comes back, he'll be in for a surprise. They've arrested him, Vernon!"

"Really?" Vernon's tone was now completely delighted. "Well, serves him right! Going about threatening us with that no-good godfather of his, now he's getting what he deserves! I'll leave work around lunch time and make sure everything goes smoothly."

"I'll see you then," Petunia said, and hung up the phone.

For a moment, she remained happy, then suddenly she remembered Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the letter that he had left for her ... well, she wasn't about to stand up to the Ministry of Magic to protect the nephew that she cared nothing about. If Dumbledore had a problem with that, he could deal with it on his own.

She went back to her housework, merely smiling at her son when he came downstairs and left immediately, heading for one of his friends' houses. He had so many little friends, her darling child. Not like her nephew. She was willing to bet that the only friends he had were those who were outcasts even amongst the freaks. Look what the red-headed family had done, just last summer! Normal people didn't do things like that, and she was sure that more normal of the freaks didn't either.

Vernon returned almost an hour later, but they quickly forgot that they were waiting for their nephew to come home, as Petunia told him all about what the neighbours had been doing, as well as what was going on in the news regarding a famous actress's divorce from her equally famous husband.

Two hours later, when they had almost forgotten about their nephew, an official-sounding knock came at the doorway. Vernon got up and hurried over to open the door. Standing on the porch were a group of people wearing normal suits, but all of them had wands in their hands, so he knew that they were freaks.

"Vernon Dursley, I presume?" The leader, a tall, black man enquired coolly.

"Yes," Vernon said nervously, "And you are?"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," the man replied calmly. "I have with me an arrest warrant for your nephew, one Harry Potter."

"Yes, we got the letter this morning saying that he'd broken the law. What has he done, exactly?"

"The Ministry believes that he murdered a fellow student last year," Shacklebolt's tone was such that they could not be sure if he thought the Ministry had it right or not. "He is to be arrested and the case will be looked into by the Ministry. If you wish to attend court in support of your nephew, you may get in contact with the Ministry in regard to times and dates."

"No, that will be fine," Vernon said. He didn't really believe that Harry had killed anyone, didn't think that his nephew would have been capable of it, but he wasn't about to tell these freaks that. If his nephew was going to jail, all the better for him really. "I wouldn't put it past him anyway. I'm afraid he's not in right now - he went out this morning and hasn't been back since. I assure you that if he'd returned, I would have made sure he stayed here, Sir."

"If you don't mind then, we'd like to take a look around," Kingsley Shacklebolt pushed past Vernon, and it was obvious that though his statement had been framed courteously, Vernon wasn't going to be given the opportunity to argue with the request.

The rest of the Aurors followed hastily, and spread out over the house, poking into corners and looking around at everything, while Vernon and his wife retreated to the kitchen to try and avoid them. "Freaks," Vernon muttered under his breath, "If they break anything, you can be assured that this Ministry of theirs will be hearing about it!"

It was discovered that Harry's trunk was missing from his room, as was his broom. There were several things still remaining, but Kingsley apparently decided that Harry had gotten wind of what was going on, and had fled before the Ministry could arrest him.

Taking everything from within Harry's room with them, the Aurors took their leave, with orders to Vernon and Petunia that if they were to spot their nephew, he was to be held in the house until Aurors could be contacted and come to remove him. Vernon and Petunia agreed readily, and the Aurors left.

---

Back at the Ministry of Magic, Kingsley made his report to the Minister, and seemed genuinely furious that Harry Potter had not been caught. He was, however, not angry about this at all, because it had been him who contacted Dumbledore to warn him as to what was going on. What he was angry about was the way that Harry's family had seemed to hate the boy and had been happy to learn that he was in trouble.

"Well, since he has run away," Fudge remarked happily, "That is proof that he is guilty. When he is found, Shacklebolt, he'll be going straight to Azkaban. We don't need murderers running around wasting the time of the Ministry."

Leaving the Minister's office, Kingsley was in a worse mood than when he had arrived, which was saying something. He decided that he'd definitely need to speak with Dumbledore, and soon, because he really wanted to know why Dumbledore would have left Harry with people like the Dursleys, and, of course, he needed to tell the Headmaster what had happened at the Ministry, and what Fudge's thoughts on the matter where.