FicWad

/WARNING/: Coarse language

2: THE SEEDS GROW

Although July had arrived, the weather seemed not to cooperate. Contrary to the previous summer, it felt cooler, damp, with the sun barely able to break through the shroud that seemed to be falling across the United Kingdom.



That was neither here nor there for a 15 going on 16 year-old boy tending the garden in the bark yard of No. 4, Privet Drive. Although his aunt and uncle had eased off on the chore list, Harry Potter still chose to take care of the gardens and so on; it was something to do, rather than sit in his room, and do nothing. After all, idle hands were the devil's workshop, and his previous year being his OWL year, there was no summer homework.



All the same, Harry found his mind wandering back to the disastrous events at the end of the month previous. He had blindly trusted a memory that Voldemort had planted in his head. He had blindly trusted that useless excuse for a house-elf. That resulted in events which left his close friends with serious injuries, and had resulted in the death of his godfather.



Sure, magical Britain was now fully aware Voldemort was back; the numerous copies of the Daily Prophet scattered about his meagre room were a testament to that. Yet, the cost had been severe. /If only people would just be honest with me!/He shouted in his head, /None of this would have happened! /Snape, with his absolutely useless Occlumency lessons; and that evil toad that the ministry had planted at Hogwarts to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts; he felt even less prepared after the incident at the ministry. It all came back to one thing he had said, or rather yelled at Dumbledore in his office, immediately after. Something that summed up exactly how he was feeling.

"I DON'T CARE!" He had yelled, "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE..."(1)



He had felt his anger soar to new heights, when the old man had told him the prophecy. He had known! Yet, he had said nothing, and DID nothing! He should have been honest and up front right from day one! Yet, now, here he was, going on 16, without any preparation. How did wizarding Britain expect him to defeat Voldemort like that?!



He was snapped out of his thoughts, by ashrill voice coming from the back door. "Boy! Get in here and have your dinner!"

"Coming, aunt Petunia." Said Harry, quickly gathering up the garden tools. He tossed them into the small shed, then stepped into the house. Last year, he would have been expected to actually cook dinner for them. Yet, after the 'discussion' Tonks, Remus, Moody, and Mr. Weasley had with his relatives, the Dursleys for the most part ignored Harry.



After quickly washing his hands, he slid into his spot at the dining table, very much aware of the sour looks he was getting courtesy his cousin, aunt, and uncle. There sat yet another sore spot; his relatives. Dumbledore knew all too well he wasn't treated well. Yet, year after year, he had been sent back to the hell-hole that was No. 4, Privet Drive. It was as if he were brought back into the wizard world to learn a little bit, battle Voldemort, then, he was just tucked away out of sight, like some tool.



Someone's tool. That's what it came down to, he realized, his anger starting to boil to the surface once again. A gasp from Dudley drew his focus back to reality. His plate was floating 3 inches off the table.

"BOY! WHAT IN BLAZES DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!" Vernon thundered. The plate dropped back to the table with a light plop, sending some of its contents onto the table.

"S-s-sorry." Harry murmured, "I'll eat in my room." He stood up, gathered his plate, and left the room, leaving his relatives sputtering in his wake. Last summer, that would have more than likely got him locked up in his room for a week.



Harry entered his room, and pushed the door closed with his foot. He set the plate down on his desk, then sat down, still lost in thought. Of all the things that kept rising to the surface, it was asimple phrase, Someone's tool. /Is that really all I am?/ He thought.

"Am I just Dumbledore's tool?" He said aloud. Hedwig, his faithful familiar, only blinked in understanding. She knew her master was hurting emotionally from something.

"I am NOT a tool!" He said quietly, but forcefully, more to himself than anything. He picked at his meal, now having for the most part lost his appetite. Vernon's yelling tended to do that.



oOo

Miles away, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the aging headmaster inspected one of the many trinkets that Harry had managed to smash during his 'tantrum' in his office. Of course the headmaster had since repaired it, along with most of the other items that had been damaged. It had moments earlier let out a loud cry, and now showed a light blue aura around it. An indication of accidental magic.



The headmaster had more than expected this type of thing to happen, given the boy's fragile state, all considering everything that had happened not too long ago. Yet, everything was going according to plan. Now that Black was out of the way, Harry would continue to look upon the headmaster as a father/grandfather/mentor figure. Black had been a loose cannon, someone that by no means fit into the plan, and, although Dumbledore had not directly wished him to die, things were far more simple now that he was out of the way.



He sighed, sitting back down at the massive desk, glancing over at the perch, on which sat the his familiar, Fawkes. His familiar had taken the Avada Kedavra curse for him in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, and was just now regaining his adult form. The phoenix seemed to meet his eyes, and chirped uneasily, as if to say, "I don't approve of what you're doing."

"I'm sure you don't, but it is for the best." Said Albus, "Harry is the only one who can defeat Riddle."

"If you were truly interested in the greater good, Dumbledore, you would have that boy in proper training from day one, as I have said many times." Said the portrait of Phineas Black.

"That you have." Dumbledore sighed, not really wanting to get into another argument with the portrait. Fawkes gave him yet another disapproving look.



He glanced once more at the instrument, and seeing as it, nor any other monitoring devices had been set off for a second time, he filed it away as an isolated incident. He turned back to the blank parchment that rested on his desk; he had another letter to write, and the recipient was not going to like the contents.



oOo

Harry once again found himself standing in the death chamber, a 3rd party witness to the terrible events of June 21st. Every detail played out in vivid, terrible colour before his eyes, culminating with Sirius falling through the veil.

"Such a wonderful performance, Harry." Said a voice, coldly. Harry knew that voice. Voldemort. /Clear your mind/, he thought, but only heard the Dark Lord laugh. The vision of the death chamber vanished, as he once again found himself bound in the coils of a snake, exactly as had occurred in the Ministry of Magic.

"It would be so easy to take your life."Voldemort hissed, "You and your friends have meddled so much with my plans." He felt the coils grow tighter. "Yet, just perhaps, Potter, you might be of use. This, 'connection', is rather useful, don't you think?"

"Piss off." Harry managed. The Dark Lord clucked his tongue, seeming to be amused by Harry's choice of words. "Just imagine, Potter. When you're least expecting it. As I know you have been able to see things through my eyes, I can most certainly see through yours... Ah, you have been having some second thoughts about the dear headmaster, most interesting. You no longer trust him?" The Dark Lord's voice softened, and the coils seemed to relax a little.

"Not that it's any business of yours."

"Ah, but it is, Potter. He is manipulating you as he manipulated me when I was your age. I, on the other hand... have been for the most part honest with my intentions." Said Voldemort. As much as Harry hated Voldemort, he did have a point. However... "You planted that memory in my head, you TRICKED me!"

"That I might have, but answer this. How often has your beloved headmaster mislead you?" Once again, Harry had to agree with Voldemort on this one. It had been one of his key thoughts over the past week or so. It was all about control.

"We could be a truly powerful team, you and I. We could have the wizarding world at our feet. Join me, Harry." Said Voldemort.

"I would rather die."

"Oh, then you will, Potter. You will. Not before I help you destroy everything you hold dear." Said Voldemort, his voice once again cold. The snake's coils once again began to tighten.

"THEN JUST BLOODY KILL ME AND GET IT OVERWITH!" Harry screamed. Voldemort only laughed at this outburst, and Harry could feel his anger rapidly boiling to the surface. The one who was causing it was in his head. Snake face himself. He focused his rage on the face of his enemy, and visualized himself screaming as loud as he could... no, using aSonorus charm, and screaming as loud as he could, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD YOU SNAKE FACED GIT!!!"



Harry awoke abruptly, his scar searing white-hot with pain. He touched it with his hand, and was not surprised to find blood. He was soaking wet with sweat, and along with the searing pain in his scar, his head was throbbing. Fumbling around on the bedside table, he found his glasses and slipped them on, then glanced at the clock. 4:30 am.



He realized at once what had happened: Voldemort had possessed him again. Dumbledore had asked Harry to notify him if he had any strange visions or the like; this most certainly qualified. Yet, the conversation he just had with the snake was still vivid in his head, and Voldemort had most definitely raised a valid point. Dumbledore was no more trustworthy than Voldemort, perhaps less so. So no, he wouldn't be writing any letter to the headmaster. Still, it might be a good idea to at least write down the details of the event, he thought. As to who he would share it with, at this point, he had no idea. /If only I had a pensive/, he thought.



Several hours later, he had not only carefully written down the details of his latest encounter with Voldemort, he had also began writing down some of the incidents he had been involved in over the past 5 years at Hogwarts. Seeing it all in black and white once again got his anger boiling. 4 different occasions where he and his friends were in incredible danger, and Dumbledore only showed up once all the fireworks had ended. One such event got another student killed, and all too recently, Sirius had been killed.



Just then, there was a loud pounding on the door.

"Boy, you up!?" Came the shrill voice of his aunt Petunia.

"Yes, aunt Petunia."

"Breakfast is out, but you are not to eat with us." His aunt said. Harry understood at once, and actually agreed. He would rather there not be a repeat performance to last night's dinner, given his mental state.



His relatives were already having breakfast, Vernon with his nose stuck in the newspaper. A typical morning scene in the Dursley household. Aunt Petunia gestured to a plate on the counter, her face carrying just perhaps a little bit of fear of her nephew.

"Thank you aunt Petunia." Harry said quietly, taking the plate.

"I expect you to take care of the dishes this morning, boy."

"Yes aunt Petunia." Said Harry. Retreating from the kitchen, he heard his cousin mumble something that sounded like "Bloody freak." That was followed by a gasp from his aunt. "Dudders, please. THEY might be listening." She whimpered. Harry smiled at this. They were truly afraid the Order might burst in at a moment's notice. The Order should've done that years ago, he thought, as he climbed the stairs, and retreated to his room.



Setting his plate down on his desk, and pushing his supper plate off to the side, he took a piece of bacon and offered it to Hedwig, who took it with a happy Hoot.

"And good morning to you too." Said Harry. There weren't too many things in the world that brought a smile to his face; Hedwig was one of them. His loyal familiar, a gift from Hagrid, the first wizard friend he had made. His mind drifted to his half-giant friend, as he sat down and began to eat. If push came to shove, whose side would he choose? And what about Professor McGonagall? As he had saw many times over his 5 years at Hogwarts, both of them were staunch supporters of him, McGonagall more than Hagrid, but all the same. As the wheels turned in his mind, the writing was on the wall. Changes were coming. He would be sure of that. He didn't know exactly how things would change, but the status quo no longer suited him.



His thoughts were interrupted by a flash, and Fawkes appeared right over his bed. He had a letter tied about one of his legs.

"Hi Fawkes." Harry greeted, as the bird set down on his desk. Boy and bird met each other's eyes, the bird trilling softly. He too, had been at the Ministry of Magic, and also understood the pain the boy was going through.

"Guess immortality has its advantages, huh?" Said Harry, gently untying the letter from the bird's leg. Unrolling it, he recognized the thin slanting writing. Of course, who did you THINK it was from? He scolded himself in his mind, and began to read:



Dear Harry,



I do hope things are going well for you at your relatives' place. As much as I would like to explain all that has been going on since you started your holidays, regretfully I can't. As I am sure you are aware, the owl post can be intercepted, and as such, sensitive information is best transmitted in other ways.



I therefore must ask you not to owl your friends over the summer, as once again, I point out, your letters and their contents could be intercepted and read. The Weasleys will be moving to Sirius'place sometime about the middle of this month, and I do hope to have you move there near your birthday.



I must warn you, however, it may be more likely you won't be removed from your relatives' place until the second weekend in August, Order business and all.



I have asked Professor Snape to resume Occlumency training with you, and he has reluctantly agreed, however that is also dependant on how soon we can move you to Sirius' place. I do understand you and Professor Snape do not get along well together, but you both must understand, learning Occlumency is paramount.



I will see you at Sirius' place.

Albus Dumbledore



SMASH! The windows to Harry's room exploded, showering both boy and phoenix with thousands of shards of glass. The entire house actually began to shake, as the overhead light started flickering. Hedwig actually looked frightened, while Fawkes sat there, and began to sing, the song filling the air, his attempt at calming the boy down.



It took a full 15 seconds for the house to stop shaking, and the lights to finally stop flickering; Harry gently stroked Fawkes on the head, feeling his calming magic bridge the gap between feathers and skin. He felt something warm on his face, and touching his other hand up to it, realized that for the second time that day, he was bleeding. This time from multiple cuts.



Then another dread filled his head. He had just used accidental magic. A letter from the Ministry of Magic was already on its way, he was sure of it. There wouldn't even be a trial this time, just an outright expulsion. Then what? Where would he go? What would he do? Totally buggered, he thought, can it get any worse?



Heavy steps pounding up the stairs reminded him of the fact it was about to get MUCH worse. Resigning himself to fate, he drew his wand, pointed it at the door, and muttered a spell. At just that second, the handle turned.

"Boy! What the devil are you doing in there?! Open this door at once!"

"Piss off." Harry growled.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL FREAK!" Vernon roared. There was a loud bang, as flesh came into contact with wood.

"If... if you come in here... I'll... You'll regret it!" Harry yelled, stumbling over his words. Of course, he really had no clue what he would actually do. /In for a knut, in for a galleon/, he thought. He looked at the magnificent bird that still sat on his desk, looking at him with knowing eyes. What to do?



Another loud bang, and the door rattled again. A plan. He needed a plan, and FAST. First, he thought, just get away from Privet Drive. Aurors will be here any minute! He started waving his wand at his meagre possessions, watching as they flew half neatly into his trunk. The parchments off his desk, he folded up and stuffed into his pants, hand-me-downs from Dudley that were 3sizes too big, being held up by a piece of rope, of all things. A shrinking charm was quickly applied to the now packed trunk, and it was then also placed in his jeans pocket.



Lastly, what to do about Hedwig. The Burrow, he thought. "Hedwig. I need you to go to Ron's place. I'll figure out how to get you once I get this settled, Ok?" Said Harry softly. Another loud bang on the bedroom door let him know Vernon was still out there, trying his best to break it down. His familiar only gave a hoot of understanding, then opened her wings and took flight, soaring out his now broken bedroom window.



He then turned back to Fawkes. "I hope the old codger didn't want a reply." He said darkly. The bird seemed to shake his head.

"I doubt I'll make much better company. But... err... you're welcome to stay. I don't know where I'm going, but any place will be better than this... Merlin, I'm so buggered." Said Harry. Fawkes only trilled a note as if in understanding. Harry then turned back to the door, and pointed his wand. After all, there was only one way out of the house."Alohamora."



The door flew open, and Vernon stumbled into the room. His hands were instantly out, ready to grab Harry around the throat. Instead, he met the end of Harry's wand. "Put - put that - away!" He stammered.

"Not this time, uncle Vernon." Said Harry, dangerously, "See, I've already broken the wizard laws today. I'm as good as expelled, not that Ireally care. How does the muggle saying go, oh yes, in for a penny, in for apound? So just try me." Vernonlooked at Harry quizzically, then lunged for the wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"Harry snapped, and the great walrus of a man toppled over like a tree.

"The Aurors can release you when they get here. Just tell them I went to Timbuktu. And Uncle Vernon, you won't see me again. Take that as the silver lining in the cloud." With that, he walked out into the hallway, Fawkes lighting on his left shoulder.



"What... where's Vernon, Boy! What have you done?" Petunia screeched, seeing Harry coming down the stairs.

"Frozen." Said Harry, calmly, surveying the hallway. "Merlin!" He exclaimed, mostly to himself. The small table in the hallway had been overturned, its contents strewn across the floor. He made the assumption his bout of accidental magic had affected the entire house, not only his room. Petunia whimpered, just then noticing the phoenix resting on Harry's shoulder.

"I won't be returning. The Aurors can set the house right again. And thanks... for nothing. I hope Voldemort finds you." Said Harry, his voice laced with venom. With that, he pocketed his wand, and walked out of No. 4, Privet Drive.



Half way down the walkway, he was stopped by a large brown owl, carrying an envelope. Harry groaned, and accepted the letter, which bore the large 'M', the mark for the Ministry of Magic. Knowing already its contents, he stuffed the letter into his pocket, watching as the owl vanished into the distance. He started walking again, when it dawned on him.

"Fawkes, you can't be seen. Dumbledore will probably miss you anyway." That got him a glare from the bird.

"You're pissed at him, then." The bird seemed to nod yes.

"I'm going to catch the Knight Bus. Ithink the best thing would be to go to Diagon Alley. Come find me there, Ok?"Said Harry. The bird only nodded, then vanished in a flash of flame.



He finally reached the small park where he had saw Sirius in his animagus form 3 summers ago. The same place he had caught the Knight Bus that same year. He stood at the curb, drew his wand, and thrust it out at the street. The violently purple bus appeared moments later with aloud bang, sending a nearby cat streaking across the park into nearby bushes.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transportation for... Mr. Potter!" Exclaimed Stan Shaunpike, the conductor.

"Err, hi Stan. I need to get to the Leaky Cauldron." Said Harry, fishing some change out of his pocket. A few galleons, but nothing smaller. He thrust one of the gold coins into Stan's hand. "Keep the change."

"Leaky Cauldron, got that, 'Ern?!" Stan called out.



oOo

The ride was every bit as hair-raising as he had remembered from earlier that year, returning from the Christmas holidays at Grimmauld Place. The bus finally screeched to a halt outside the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry was more than happy to get off. /Now what, /he thought, stepping into the pub.



Luckily, the pub was for the most part empty, with just a couple of witches off in the far corner, reading the Daily Prophet and engaging in quiet conversation. Keeping his head low, he quickly crossed the floor of the pub, then slipped into the court yard. A plan had popped into his head... he would go to Fred and George's shop. They had been close friends, and being Weasleys, he trusted them. He had to trust someone.



So, he drew his wand, and tapped the bricks that revealed the opening into the alley. He breathed a sigh of relief, seeing it not too crowded that early in the morning. The big question was, would Fred and/or George be at their shop?



His question was quickly answered. Their shop was impossible to miss, the violently bright storefront was like being hit over the head with a beater's bat; Harry's eyes started to water just looking at it(2). In one of the windows, was a large, purple poster, similar to that of those issued by the ministry, except for the text. In flashing yellow letters was the caption:



Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who?

You SHOULD Be Worrying About

U-NO-POO-

The Constipation Sensation That's Gripping The Nation!(2)



Harry burst out laughing. That was all there was to it. /Oh, what would Mrs. Weasley think/, he thought, as he was again overtaken with gales of laughter. This was EXACTLY what he had needed, after all the insanity of that morning. A sudden flash, and Fawkes once again appeared, and landed on Harry's shoulder again.

"Still mad at the old codger, are you?"Said Harry. The bird seemed to nod. "You know Fred and George Weasley, right... this is their shop." At that, he tried the door. It was locked, so he knocked. It seemed like an eternity, but finally, one of the twins showed up, Fred, he thought, beaming brightly as he unlocked the door. "Harry, mate, what are you doing here? Gods! What happened to your face?" Fred gasped, seeing the number of small cuts on his face.

"I'm in trouble." Said Harry. Fred drew his wand, pointed it at something in a corner, and muttered an incantation, then stepped aside, beckoning Harry inside.

"What was that?"

"Well, had you stepped in before I disabled it, the results might have been... unpleasant."

"Gred, who is it?" Came a voice from the back.

"Our esteemed business partner needs our help." Fred called back. Moments later, the other twin appeared.

"What's Professor Dumbledore's phoenix doing with you?"

"He's pissed at him, and so am I." Answered Harry, darkly. At that, Fred again locked the door. "We'd best take this in back, perhaps." Harry nodded. It was a good suggestion, considering how loud the store actually was. The shelves were packed with jokes, gags, and prank items.



The twins led Harry into the back area of the store, which was clearly the testing area for their pranks. George passed him a cloth, which Harry used to wipe the dried blood off his face.

"Ok, Harry, what's going on?"

"I'm in trouble. I..." He pulled the letter out of his pants pocket. He also pulled out the letter he received from Dumbledore, and the notes he had written. He passed the notes and Dumbledore's letter to the twins, while he opened up the letter from the Ministry.



Dear Mr. Potter,

We have received intelligence that you performed the locking charm at thirty-eight minutes past seven this morning in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle.

The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives...



He didn't bother finish the letter, he had saw one of those before, less than a year prior. He held it in front of him, drew his wand, and said "Incendio." He dropped the burning parchment to the floor.

"Harry, you just..." George began, shocked.

"I don't care... in for a knut, in for agalleon." Harry answered, taking a seat on one of the stools, "Dumbledore's amanipulative, controlling old codger, the ministry is auctioning itself off to the highest bidder, and I feel... I feel like I'm just someone's tool! I'm NOT someone's FUCKING tool!" Several jars on various shelves around the room rattled a little, and Harry quickly clamped down on his magic. Best not to have amagical outburst here, he thought. "I can't stay here. I think... I think it's best if... if I leave the country."

"That won't ever fix things, mate." Said George. Both twins carried very serious looks on their faces at this point; there was no room for comedy.

"I know that." Answered Harry, "It's only until I can sort things out for myself, maybe get the training I actually need, rather than some dodgy excuse from a meddling headmaster."

"V-v-Voldemort... he will come after you, Harry." Said Fred.

"No doubt." Said Harry, "He was so kind as to visit me this morning, in my dreams. Occlumency. That's my first priority, I think."

"No, your first priority is a cover, adisguise. You can't go out in public looking like Harry Potter, mate." Said George.

"Quite right, Forge." Said Fred, drawing his wand. He tapped Harry on the head, muttering an incantation. He felt the strange magic wash over him, as George conjured up a full-length mirror.



Harry was shocked at the person staring back at him from the mirror. His hair, while still raven-black, was then shoulder length, and pleasantly wavy, rather than the messy rat's nest it usually was. He pushed the hair off his forehead, and found another pleasant surprise, or more like the absence of something: his scar. He looked more of ayoung adult, filled out a bit more, and just perhaps, a little taller. If only this could be permanent, he thought. "Thanks." He said.

"Anything for our..." Fred began.

"...esteemed business partner." George finished.

"I guess the next thing I need is some money. Muggle money." Said Harry.

"A better thought," Fred began, "Would be for us to talk to Bill. He has certain contacts in the Muggle world."

"And he's also an Order member. What stops him from going straight to Dumbledore with my plans?"

"Harry, how long have you known us, as afamily? Mum and dad love you to death, Merlin, we all see you as an honorary brother!" Fred exclaimed, "If it ever came down to a choice between you or Dumbledore, we would all quit the Order in a heartbeat... and this... bloody hell, mate." Harry could only nod, his eyes filling with tears. He knew without adoubt, every word Fred had just said was true. How much control did Dumbledore have over Mrs. Weasley? He suspected that, without a meddling headmaster, he would have been officially adopted by the Weasleys years earlier.

"Let's talk to Bill." He finally managed, as he removed his glasses, and wiped his eyes.



10 minutes later, the twins, Bill, and Harry were all seated in a conference room at Gringotts. A quick conference with his goblin superiors got him access to the room. A familiar goblin had also joined the group.

"Nice to see you again, Griphook." Said Harry.

"And you, Mr. Potter."

Bill, meanwhile, was staring at Fawkes, who was still perched on Harry's shoulder. "What's Professor Dumbledore's familiar doing with you, Harry?" He finally asked.

"Before I say anything, I need a wizard's oath that none of this will be repeated. I trust all of you, but there are things that... Merlin, what a mess this is!" Harry blurted. Bill didn't hesitate, but quickly gave his oath.

"I'm a fugitive." Harry announced, matter-of-factly, "I shook the house this morning, because of THIS." Harry again produced the letter Fawkes had delivered earlier that morning, and passed it to Bill. He quickly read it, his features seeming to darken.

"Now I understand why Fawkes is with you."Said Bill.

"Pissed at him, no doubt."

"I will not be anyone's tool." Harry declared, "That's all Dumbledore and the Order see me as. Someone to come in and duel Voldemort or his death eaters or a combination of both, then to be shunted back into a cubby-hole somewhere until I'm needed again. I just lost my FUCKING godfather, the closest person I had to a dad, and what does he do? He sticks me back in that hell hole at Privet Drive. Last year, I watched Voldemort regain his body, and kill Cedric. What did he do? He stuck me back at Privet Drive, rather than putting me someplace where I could talk to someone, or... Bloody Hell, I don't know anymore!" He put his head in his hands, as emotions once again overran him.



The others waited patiently for him to vent his emotions. Bill hesitated, but then gently placed a hand on his back, rubbing it gently. The boy actually flinched at such contact; after all, it had been something he rarely got. He did not pull away, however, but accepted the contact.

"I don't see you as a tool, Harry, nor does mum, dad, or Remus."

"I... I just-want-control-of my life." Harry sniffled.

"We can most certainly help you with that, Mr. Potter." Said Griphook, "It will be a few days, however." He opened afolder and slid it across the table to Harry, who quickly wiped away the tears from his face, and looked at the heading. "Last will of Sirius Orion Black will be executed on..." He said quietly, and collapsed into tears again. There it was. In black and white. Sirius was truly gone.



It took several minutes for him to regain composure this time, after all, the events of the end of June were still so vivid in his head. Voldemort made sure of that.

"When is the reading?" He finally managed, recomposing himself.

"July 18." Said Bill.

"I'll be long gone by then." Answered Harry.

"It's only a matter of where, Mr. Potter. Arrangements can be made no matter where you might get off to, unless you have the misfortune to end up in Azkaban." Said Griphook.

"I want to go to Canada." Harry announced.

"I can probably arrange that." Said Bill,"I have a number of wizard and muggle contacts. The international floo would be out of the question, Canada's a member of the International Confederation of Warlocks, they'd only extradite him back here. What did they charge you with this time?"

"Same as last August, using magic in the presence of a muggle. I didn't bother to look at the date of the hearing... Ijust burned the parchment." Said Harry.

"Send him by muggle aieroplane." Said George.

"Airplane." Harry corrected. He thought for a few moments. "I can't be known as Harry Potter. My mum's last name was Evans... James Evans." Bill only nodded, scribbling down a few notes on a piece of parchment. He then stood up. "I will need to go borrow a floo, I'll be afew minutes."

"Harry, mate, why Canada?" Asked Fred.

"I don't know... I guess well, I saw the article in the Prophet back in May... those two guys my age..."

"Ah, Mr. Carter and Mr. Bartlett." Said Griphook, nodding, "Quite an interesting investigation under way in the matter of Mr. Bartlett. The details I can't divulge, client privilege and all, but it is raising some concerns. The Wizard Court in Canadasubpoenaed the Bartletts'banking details."

"And Gringotts complied?" Fred appeared confused, as did his twin.

"Indeed, Mr. Weasley." Answered Griphook,"We have a much more friendly working relationship with the Canadian wizarding government, and by extension, Canadian wizarding society. We're far more inclined to work with the court and so on."



Harry only nodded. The idea of going to Canada was looking even better. He would have to see about schooling and so on, and there were dozens of other issues that would have to be dealt with. Yet, on the other side of the coin, there was really not much to keep him in England. His friends, he had very few. He would be sure to keep in touch, and so on. Yet, those few friends were in far contrast to the overwhelming negative aspects to his young life. Dumbledore had been so concerned about giving him a 'normal' childhood, yet, Harry realized there was nothing normal about him. He was the 'saviour' of the wizarding Britain. As long as he stayed in Britain, that would be all he would be.



"Alright, Harry." Said Bill, slipping back into the room, "You'll have a muggle passport in a few hours, along with proper papers and so on."

"I originally needed to exchange some money into muggle currency." Said Harry.

"A better suggestion, Mr. Potter, would be for you to set up a 'debit card', as muggles call it. When you make apurchase, the money would simply be removed from your vault." Suggested Griphook.

"What do I need to do?"

"I'll retrieve the forms for you." Said Griphook, standing.

"You'll still need money on you when making purchases here in Diagon Alley, or any other wizarding business for that matter." Said Bill, "They still haven't caught on to the idea of using aplastic card."

"What will happen to my trust vault?" Asked Harry.

"That depends on what you decide to do, Harry." Answered Bill, "If you permanently move to Canada, Gringotts will transfer the contents of any vaults you hold the rights to, to the Baldwin Alley branch in Toronto."

"Baldwin Alley?"

"The wizard shopping district in Toronto. There'll be a booklet explaining that for you, and how to get there." Said Bill, "I'll see about setting up acontact for you at the airport."



oOo

It had taken the better part of the day, but Harry at last had everything in order. Through a number of contacts in the muggle world, Bill had gotten him a one-way ticket to Toronto; the flight would depart at 7 pm. He had also gotten him proper identification, including apassport, something customs would require. There were also several books included in the package.

"Defence of The Mind, a practical guide to Occlumency" Harry read the title of one of the books.

"Yes." Said Bill, "Consider that an early birthday gift. It should help you to stop Voldemort from visiting you in your dreams." Harry nodded. "Thanks."

"Once you get resettled, mate, write to us, let us know how you're doing." Said Fred.

"Count on it." Said Harry, "I would write Ron and Hermione, but for now, just let them know I'm Ok, and I'll get in touch with them soon."

"We'd best get going, Harry. My contact with the travel agency says it's best to be at the airport 3 hours before the flight leaves." Said Bill. It was going on 3:30 pm.

"How do we get there?"

"Apparate, of course." Said Bill, "Now Iknow you haven't been taught how to do that yet, so you'll have to hold on my arm. I'll side-apparate us to the wizard section of the airport."

"They have a wizard section?"

"You don't think you're the first wizard to fly in a muggle airplane?"

"Oh." Said Harry. Just then, there was aknock at the door, and a goblin entered. "Sorry for the interruption, but Albus Dumbledore is in the lobby, looking for Mr. Potter."

"We'll use the employee apparition area."Said Bill.



oOo

As the plane left the ground, Harry felt atremendous weight lift from his shoulders. He knew he was heading into the unknown. 6 hours from then, he would be on foreign soil, surrounded by strangers. Yet, that was only a minor thing, compared to the world he was leaving behind. Sighing, he opened the book Bill had given him. He had 6hours to kill, best do something productive.



oOo

The morning had not started well for Albus Dumbledore. He had been up for quite some time already, and had only a minute earlier sent a letter off with Fawkes. For the second day in a row, one of the many monitoring devices scattered about his office let out an awful cry. It was just after 7:30. There had been yet another bout of accidental magic at No. 4 Privet Drive. The item screamed again, this time turning a sharp blue. That was NOT accidental, he had purposely used his wand this time. Albus knew it was most certainly going to be a long day. He debated for a minute as to which was the larger priority; determining what had happened at the Dursleys, or dealing with the Improper Use of Magic office. The ministry seemed to be the more crucial issue at the time, since an order member was on watch at Privet Drive. Pointing his wand at himself, he muttered an incantation, instantly changing from his bedclothes into his midnight blue robes, the same he had wore to Harry's hearing a year prior. He grabbed a handful of floo powder from the urn beside the fireplace, tossed it into the fire, then stepped in, saying, "Ministry of Magic!" He vanished into the suddenly green flames.



He groaned silently to himself, as he found Fudge already there in the atrium.

"I've got him this time, Dumbledore!" He announced, smugly. He came across like a cat that had just caught the mouse.

"We don't know all the details, Cornelius, there may have been a death eater attack." Answered Albus, matter-of-factly,"You saw for yourself not that long ago, Voldemort is back. You know Harry is at the top of his list of targets."

"He... but... he's broken the law yet again! The boy has no... he's... he completely disregards the statute of secrecy, Dumbledore, the boy's a menace to the wizard world, I tell you!"

"And what would you have him do, Cornelius, just stand there, and let whomever or whatever attack?" Albus challenged,"Harry wouldn't have used magic outside of school unless there was a good reason. I assure you, I'm looking into it."

"Weasley. Take the professor down to the Improper Use of Magic office. Inform Ms. Hopkirk to disregard the incident at Potter's residence." Fudge instructed. The 3rd oldest Weasley nodded, and indicated for Albus to follow.



"I'm sorry, the letter was already dispatched." Mafalda Hopkirk, the head of the Improper Use of Magic office, informed.

"Is there any way I could get you to for now just ignore any further incidents there? Harry is under a lot of stress, and may have caused a bout of accidental magic."

"We detected a locking charm, Albus."Answered Mafalda.

"A locking charm?"

"Shortly thereafter, he used a series of packing charms, a shrinking charm, then unlocked whatever he had previously locked. He also used the petrifying jinx. That was the last spell detected."

"Curious." Said Albus, frowning. He thought for a moment. "Could I ask you to contact me next time magic is detected at Privet Drive? Like in this incident, I am sure there is a logical explanation."

"I think I can agree to that."



Using the public floo in the atrium, he travelled to Mrs. Figg's house on Magnolia Crescent.

"Albus! What a pleasant surprise!"Arabella greeted the headmaster, "I just started a pot of tea."

"I'm afraid I will have to take you up on that offer another time, there may be a problem at No. 4 Privet Drive."

"Oh dear." Said Arabella, quickly understanding. Mundungus Fletcher was on duty that morning.



As he left the house, he dispatched amessage back to the Order via his Patronus, reporting the potential problem. Concerned with what was actually happening, he didn't stop to think that just maybe, he himself had been the cause of said problem. All the same, he had apretty good idea Harry Potter would not be at Privet Drive when he got there.



A group of Aurors were already at No. 4 Privet Drive when the aging professor arrived. The house looked intact, but the windows had all been blown out, and some of the shingles had been displaced on the roof. Whatever had happened, effected the entire house. Or perhaps, selectively. He shivered at the thought of an almost 16-year-old wizard capable of causing such damage, wandlessly.

"Ah, Professor Dumbledore. We expected to see you here eventually." An Auror by the name of Dawlish said.

"Where's Harry?"

"Definitely not here, Professor." Answered Dawlish, "We've searched the residence, and questioned the muggles."

"He's not here."

"His room has been cleaned out. Lots of residual magic, but nothing magical left behind."

"I somehow suspected that, from what Ms. Hopkirk explained." Said Albus, "I do believe one of the Dursleys had to be un-petrified, am I correct?"

"Yes, Mr. Dursley. Between his incessant muttering and cursing about 'freaks', he did mention something about Harry going to, err, Timbuktu."

"YOU!" A voice shrieked. Albus turned to see Petunia glaring at him from the front door. "Look what the little freak did to our house! I don't care WHAT rubbish you come up with, he'll NOT be allowed back!"

"Petunia, I need not remind..."

"My wife and I have... had quite enough... of your kind, darkening our doorstep." Vernon snarled, joining his wife in the doorway. Petunia was torn between continuing her rant, and glancing nervously at the yard next door. Here were acrowd of FREAKS crawling all over the house, oh what would the neighbours think?!

"Petunia, Vernon. You have to understand, as I have said many times before, Harry is not safe staying elsewhere." Said Albus.

"He said... something about Voldemort, or hoping he'll find us... ungrateful freak..." Petunia scowled. That caused Albus to pause for a second. What had set Harry off? This was definitely not good.



A series of POPs brought Albus out of his thoughts. They were using invisibility cloaks so they could come and go, not worrying about muggles seeing them. Of course, Albus could see them quite plainly. "Well, is he here?" Asked one of them, Alastor 'mad-eye' Moody.

"No, he's not." Answered Albus, "It's as Ihave feared. Something set him off, he's run off again."

"I tell you again!" Vernon roared, "He will NOT be returning here!"

"No, not this summer he won't." Answered Albus, "We'll be taking him to London once he is located. We'll discuss arrangements for the end of the school term later. Now I must insist on seeing exactly what damage Harry has done." The Dursleys glared at Albus, but reluctantly backed out of the doorway, allowing the headmaster to enter.



It looked like every piece of glass in the house had been broken. Once again, Albus felt unnerved by the raw power demonstrated here. Of course, if that power could be harnessed, honed and trained, then just perhaps, the light had a chance against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He quickly began casting repair charms on the broken windows, while the Dursleys continued to glare at him.



Shortly after, a young woman with violently pink hair stepped into the house.

"He's utterly vanished, professor." She announced, "He walked to the park, and was picked up in a muggle vehicle by the looks of it."

"More than likely caught the Knight Bus."Said Alastor from the door.

"I'll have you pay a visit to the Burrow. Let Molly know he's ran off." Said Albus. Alastor nodded. "He might have gone to the Grangers, I'll have a look there, too."

"You might want to check with the Lovegoods, as well. Any of his friends that went with him to the Ministry, for that matter." Said the young woman.

"A wise thought, Nymphadora." Said Albus. The young woman glared at him. "It's just Tonks, professor. You KNOW I hate my given name."

"Well then, Tonks. I'll have you check in with St. Mungo's, although it's unlikely he's gone there."

"Still worth checking." Tonks agreed. Just then, another wizard stepped into the house. Shabbily dressed, his light brown hair streaked with grey at the temples. "Well, is he here?"

"No, Remus, he's not." Answered the headmaster.

"I've warned you many times this kind of thing would happen."

"That you have, and we have had this conversation many times, Remus. You know the reasons."

"Albus, you know you won't be able to keep him under your thumb forever. He's not a child anymore." Said Remus.

"That he isn't, and yet, he isn't an adult yet either. He still needs our guidance."

"He did go to the Leaky Cauldron the summer before his 3rd year, did he not?" Said Alastor.

"One of the places I will check for myself."



After several hit-and-misses, along with meeting with other Order members to discuss their unsuccessful assignments regarding Harry's disappearance, the aging headmaster at last arrived at Gringotts. Perhaps the boy had withdrawn a quantity of money from his vault. The goblins should at least be able to tell me if Harry had been there or not, right? He thought to himself. He strode into the lobby, and approached one of the tellers.

"Yes?" Asked the goblin behind the wicket.

"I would like to know if Harry Potter came into the bank earlier today." Said Albus.

"One moment please." The teller got down from his stool, and disappeared through several doors leading away from the banking hall. He was gone for several minutes, but at last returned, with another goblin.

"We cannot say whether or not Mr. Potter has been into the bank today. That is covered under client privilege, Mr. Dumbledore."

"I see." Albus was clearly not amused. "Why do I draw the conclusion he is here?"

"Draw what conclusions you may, Mr. Dumbledore, Mr. Potter's business with Gringotts is not your concern." Said the first goblin. This had drawn the attention of nearby tellers, as well as security. /This was going nowhere/, Albus thought. "Very well. I'll just wait for him, then."

"By all means." The second goblin gave amenacing smile. Albus sighed, and stepped away from the teller's cage, and retreated to the waiting area. He also sent off another Patronus with amessage as to where he was, and what was going on. If all went well, Harry would be moved to Grimmauld Place that evening, and Albus vowed to have a long talk with the boy-who-lived. Unknown to him, the boy-who-lived had just side-apparated with Bill to London's Heathrow International Airport.





/AUTHOR COMMENTS/: I had one reviewer say the last chapter was a little short... I hope this makes up for it. Lots of stuff happened here, and rather abruptly at that. However, this was my vision, I'm only following the basic plot design.



Now that you've heard from me, I'd love to hear from you. I see lots of people putting the story on their alert list... well, tell me what you liked about it. It doesn't have to be a book... aone-line saying 'hey, I liked what you've written'.



Alas, I write for myself, and if my audience likes it, then all the better. 'till next time!



(1) Taken from p.726, OotP, Canadian soft cover edition. Verbatim text. I won't tamper with Ms. Rowling's words here. Just making it clear, not mine. It sums up perfectly how Harry is feeling at this point in the story.



(2) Taken from p.113, HBP, Canadian soft cover edition.