Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Thanks to Anna Rose for correcting this chapter!
If you want you can take a look at my ff.net account: http:// www. fanfiction.net/~quizgirl .
I will always be a H/Hr shipper, but after this story I may want to try something new. I haven't made up my mind yet.
- .
Ch 32: ANNIE HIGHWATER
When the hour is upon us
And our beauty surely gone
No, you will not be forgotten
No, you will not be alone
And when the day has all but ended
And our echo starts to fade
No you will not be alone then
And you will not be afraid
No you will not be afraid
(Now Comes the Night by Rob Thomas)
The first thing Harry noticed when he opened his eyes was that he was in a completely unfamiliar place. Everything looked very soft, innocent and light. The next thing he noticed was that he felt very warm, and he was cold and sweating at the same time. He groaned and rolled over in the comfortable bed he was sleeping in, trying to shield his eyes from the light. He did not have a wand and he did not have his glasses, nor did he know where he could find them. He figured that he could just as well continue sleeping and a second later he did just that.
The next time Harry awoke he felt much better. He was still weak, but now other things were on his mind. First of all, he needed to use a bathroom and secondly he needed to find a shower. Then he wanted to get something to eat.
Looking around he managed to find his glasses and put them on. The world immediately came into focus and he saw that he was indeed in an unfamiliar bedroom. The walls had a light, warm colour and had a window with thin curtains in the front. Sunlight peaked through a small crack, reminding him of the world outside.
Harry remembered vaguely escaping from the Dark Lord and walking around in the streets, but it was all a little cloudy as though it had happened a long time ago. Maybe it had; he couldn't tell.
Shrugging, his eyes wandered from the window to the other furniture in the room. He had a small table with a lamp, a bookcase and a wardrobe. He couldn't see his wand. An uneasy feeling swept through him.
"Hello?" he called out. A few seconds later he heard someone come up the stairs. A short girl with blonde hair walked in. She looked a little weary, but she didn't look scared of him.
"Oh," she said. "You're awake. About time."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Do you know where I can find a bathroom?"
The girl pointed out the door she had just came in from. "Out there and the first door to the left. Shouldn't be so difficult to find, or do you want me to draw you a map?"
"It will be fine," said Harry, annoyed by the way she talked to him.
After he had done his business and washed his hands, he came back and saw that she had taken the curtains away from the window so that the room bathed in sunlight. Harry had to blink; it was too much light at once. He was used to dark rooms and walls and he liked it that way. However, he knew he was in no position to complain. She looked like she wouldn't hesitate to throw him out if he gave her a reason to do so.
"Where is my wand?"
"Sorry?" said the girl, looking at him as though he was mad. It occurred to him that she might be a Muggle and he instantly felt more uncomfortable. Muggles were below him, but yet she was the one in charge. Besides, he could get in trouble for revealing too much to her. He was actually a little tempted to be thrown back to the street just to escape from the situation he had gotten himself into.
"The ... uhm, stick. It is a toy wand and I promised to keep it," he said lamely, kicking himself mentally for the bad excuse.
"I threw it out. It's probably still outside somewhere."
Harry felt himself go cold. "You did what?"
"Sorry," said the girl with a shrug. "I didn't realize it had emotional value to you." She seemed to be waiting for something because she kept looking at Harry as though he was meant to say something.
"So …" he tried. "Where am I?"
"In Ealing," she said. "West London."
"When did I get here?"
"Six days ago. You had a very high fever."
Harry nodded, already knowing he had been sick. "What is your name?"
"Annie Highwater," she said, holding her head high. "And I've been dying to know your name."
"I am Harry … Potter, I think. I do not know for sure."
"You have a memory loss?" asked the girl with a skeptical frown. When Harry nodded, she sighed. "That's great. Just what I need! A homeless beggar that doesn't remember where he comes from. Just great!"
"I am not a beggar!" said Harry fiercely. "And I know where I came from, but I can't go back there." Seeing her confused look, he figured that he had to add some more into his explanation. "Look, when I first lost my memory, I did not know where I was. A group of … people took me in. They were violent and harsh though and they wanted me completely under their control. So I ran. If I go back now, they will definitely kill me."
"You don't know that," said Annie, looking annoyed but intrigued at the same time.
Harry sent her a challenging look. "Yes, I do. Trust me, they will. They are the most powerful group in Britain and they do not take betrayal easily."
Annie sat down on the bed and curled her right leg up underneath her, still looking skeptical. "Let's say that what you are saying is true for a moment … how did you 'betray' them? What are you going to do about it?"
Harry stared at her, not used to talking like that. Again he wished for his wand; he'd feel so much stronger and confident with it. If he had it, he could just use the Imperious Curse on her and tell her to let him stay until he knew where to go. He realized he had to do this the hard way; namely gain her trust in one way or the other. He should be able to do that, he was a good manipulator. He licked his lips and looked down to make her think he was more vulnerable than what he really was. "Well, they tried to frame me for murdering a couple of people not too far from here and I would not go along with it."
The girl was silent for a moment, before she gasped and clasped her hands in front of her mouth. "You mean the Smiths? I knew them! I used to watch their dog! They always asked me to take care of it if they were going away for a weekend or two. It died last summer of cancer."
"Yes, I think they were the Smiths," said Harry wearily, praying intensely that she would take his words at face value and not get the idea that he could be lying. Or worse, believing that he had done it. He would be in real trouble if she did.
"Wow…" said the girl, lost in thoughts. "You don't happen to know how they died, do you?"
"No, sorry."
"The police think it was because of the blood loss, but I don't know. I have a feeling there's something more than that."
Harry kept his face and voice as impassive as possible, only letting a small streak of curiosity out. It wasn't a problem for him anymore, he had become a good liar. "Really? Like what?"
"That's just it, isn't it? Nobody knows for sure." Annie suddenly seemed aware of that she was talking to a complete stranger and jolted to her feet. "Dinner's in an hour. Come down whenever you're ready and make yourself useful."
Harry stared after her retreating form. She wasn't gorgeous, but there was something about her that he liked. She didn't seem like the type who was afraid to say what was on her mind.
Smiling slightly, Harry went to the wardrobe and found his old clothes in the top drawer. The clothes were clean but not ironed, but he knew he had to live with it. Scooping up the familiar looking clothes in his arms, he found the way to the bathroom to take a shower.
-
When he came down again Annie was preparing something strange in the oven.
"You like pizza don't you? That's all I had left in the freezer."
"Erm, sure," said Harry uncertainly, staring at what looked like cheese and tomatoes. It didn't look like anything he had seen before, but it didn't smell too bad and he wanted to know what it tasted like. Harry went out of the kitchen and into the dining room, where he sat down by the small table and waited.
A few minutes later Annie came out with the smoking pizza on a round plate, wearing something Harry had never seen a human wear before: oven gloves.
He concealed his surprise, but he couldn't help but stare.
"What?" asked Annie, looking down at her cleavage. "Are my breasts falling out or something?"
Harry blushed. "No! I wasn't looking at them, I was looking at your, uhm, gloves."
"Sure," said Annie with more than a little sarcasm in her voice, setting the pizza down at the table. "Help yourself."
"Thanks," said Harry carefully, not daring to look at her again for several minutes.
-
After Harry had wolfed down as much as he could of the pizza, someone knocked on the door.
"I'll get it," said Annie quickly as she left the table. Harry sipped on some water, which he noticed tasted a little funny. It definitely wasn't bottled water.
He waited for several minutes, but Annie didn't return. Curious, but also a little nervous because he was still lacking a wand, he got up too and slowly walked towards the exit.
If the Death Eaters had found him already he had no idea what to do.
The house was still new to him, but it was fairly small so he had no problems finding the right way. Harry couldn't help but think that the whole apartment had to be the size of an average room back in the Stone Edge.
Annie wasn't inside, but he could hear a heated argument right outside the door. Harry inched forward and pressed his ear to the side of the door and listened.
"Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It's only for a few days!"
"You think I'll believe that? Do you think I'm stupid? I know where this will lead to! I know how you are."
The first voice clearly belonged to Annie, but the second one belonged to a male.
"It wouldn't hurt you to trust me once in a while you know. Just because you can be a little `loose' doesn't mean that I am too," came Annie's voice again.
"Don't change the subject! I don't like you being too close to other guys, especially not living with them. I want you to throw him out today!"
"Or what?"
"You know very well what."
"Luke ... please. He's in no condition to take care of himself yet. I may be a cold person, but I'm not that cold."
"I'm warning you, Ann..."
"Dammit! I said I would come to you tomorrow night and I will! Now shut up and go!"
Harry could hear the conversation ending. Faster than he thought he was capable of in his condition, he retreated back quietly to where he had been. He shot her a small smile when she came back, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Done yet?" she asked. "Then put away your dishes. Don't expect me to do it for you."
"All right," said Harry, managing to hold back a frown. He had never cleaned dishes before.
Luckily, Annie took her own dishes before him. She washed them in hot water and soap before drying them with a towel. Then she put the dishes back to where they belonged. Harry smirked to himself as he mimicked her movements.
Despite being a little clumsy it wasn't too hard. He felt oddly pleased with himself. Next time though, he would use his wand and charm the plates clean. He still had some wizard-pride left in him.
Just as he thought that, he felt his mark burn. If he had been two minutes later with cleaning the dishes he would've dropped something, for the pain took him completely by surprise.
At first it started as a little sting, but then the full blow of it hit him and he crumpled to his knees. Every instinct told him to just push the mark and Apparate, but he knew he couldn't. He would be killed on the spot. Feeling his eyes water, he slowly rose to his feet again, aware of Annie's look at him.
"Either you're a very good actor, or something's hurting you," she said matter-of-factly. "Go back to bed and I'll call the doctor again."
"That's not necessary-"
"Yes it is. I refuse to be the reason that you get seriously ill. I'd rather be on the safe side. You can either go back to bed or you can leave this house. It's up to you, but you're not staying where you are now."
Harry sent her a sour look but did as he was told and returned to bed. It already felt like a sanctuary to him and right then he just wanted to be alone with his pain. A pain that continued to burn for a whole hour.
-
Having a doctor to see him again reminded Harry very much of the time he had woken up after taking the second dose of the potion. This time, however, he had no wand and there was no Bellatrix nearby. He almost missed her; her wicked nature made her a cool person to be around. She kept him on his toes constantly. She would've known what to do in his situation. She would never have to sink down to the level where she had to wash dishes with a Muggle to not get kicked out to the streets. Of course, she would never be a chicken-shit like him and escape from the Dark Lord either.
The doctor took several tests, but he ended up saying that Harry was simply exhausted and needed more time to recover. ("Tell me, have you been under stress lately?") He also told Harry that he needed to be careful about his blood pressure, because it was quite high.
Harry almost snorted. Raising his head up so he stared the doctor fully into his eyes, he gave him the ugliest glare he could produce. "Yes! I will be careful."
The doctor's confidence staggered a little and he did what looked like a double - take. He cleared his throat. "Then I strongly recommend you to change whatever has you under pressure. If you continue like this then you never know when your heart can't take it any longer and a vein bursts. I would also recommend you to avoid salt as much as possible, especially in food. You must also dress properly when you're outside so the fever won't come back."
"I will keep it in mind," muttered Harry sourly. He didn't know much about high blood pressure, but it didn't sound like a good thing.
"I'd say `I hope to see you again,' but that wouldn't be very lucky would it?" said the doctor in a feeble attempt to joke. Harry just glared at him. The man should be happy he hadn't ended up like the other doctor who had checked Harry.
When the doctor had left Annie turned to Harry with a stern expression on her face. "Now, that wasn't too bad, was it? No need to be rude though, we are doing you a favor."
Harry opened his mouth but had to close it again when he was unable to think of something clever to say.
Annie just rolled her eyes and left the room, leaving Harry alone to his thoughts.
-
Harry stayed in his new room for a long time that evening, only leaving once to go to the bathroom. At some point he also fell asleep in his bed. He had only meant to rest for a while, but the bed was so soft he couldn't resist closing his eyes.
He woke up later by Annie entering his room again, but he stayed still and kept his eyes closed so she wouldn't ask him questions. Only after he knew she had gone to bed herself did he get up. He walked softly down the staircase in the dark, careful not to make any sound. He felt the way down with his hand on the rail.
The whole house was covered in blackness and as Harry already had a bad vision - even with his glasses - he didn't see much. Fortunately, he made it down without any incidents. The dark shadows in the corner of the room played tricks on his mind, making him want to do the whole thing quicker.
After putting on some shoes, he unlocked the front door and crept through it. The frosty winter night felt like needles against his almost naked skin, and he turned back and took one of Annie's jackets. It helped, but he was still freezing as he began to search the ground outside. The wand had to be there somewhere, it just had to, even though it had been a week since his arrival. What would he do if he lost it? He couldn't get himself a new one when he was a wanted man wherever he went.
Pausing, Harry did the only thing he could think of: "Accio wand." For a moment he didn't think it had worked, but suddenly the Dark Lord's wand came soaring through the air, right into his hand. He breathed a sigh of relief as the familiar feeling of power returned to him; his whole body shaking with anticipation and excitement. Lifting his hands to the stars in the sky in a moment of inspiration, he grinned widely. For the first time in a very long time, he felt some hope return to him.
-
For the next week he stayed in Annie's little compartment, trying to enjoy life as much as he could and recover. Even though his attempts seemed a little half-hearted at times - something Annie noticed - he resisted the urge to obliviate her. It felt rather nice to have company, even though she continued to be rude to him and make not - so - subtle hints that she could throw him out whenever she wanted to. Harry just smirked, he had come to realize that she enjoyed his company as well, at least compared to that Luke Joans guy. Luke Joans was a man that seemed harmless on the outside, but who would turn violent after a few drinks. When Annie had returned the morning after her little night with him, she had a bruise on her chin that she refused to tell where she got it from and was horribly tense. Harry wasn't stupid; he knew right away that Luke had hit her. However, even with that knowledge Harry did nothing to stop her from seeing him. It wasn't his problem what she decided to do with her life and he wasn't planning on staying with her for long anyway.
He had also begun a new hobby that he found entertaining and satisfying. At night, when he felt restless from all the build-up tension in his body, he would open the window and summon a bird. They were good toys to play with, and it wouldn't raise as much suspicion as playing with humans did.
The birds always put up a struggle, but after he had summoned them through his window and closed their only ways out, they had pretty much lost the chance of survival. Harry would first make them do funny things under the Imperious Curse, like flying full speed into the wall before tumbling to the ground. There - as the impact seldom injured them severely, just knocked them out - he liked to use the Cruciatus Curse on them, making them thrash and make ear-piercing, desperate sounds from their tiny throats. Then he would kill them with a carefully aimed Avada Kedavra. The Dark Arts had long since made him addicted and he was unable to stop doing them. It was the only thing that would let him sleep at night, instead of laying restless and shaking in his bed. After he was done he would open the window and throw the bird out, before he cleaned whatever mess the bird had inflicted in the room. After that he would remove the silencing charm he always had on the walls before summoning a bird, so Annie wouldn't wake up and come to investigate what was going on. That would most certainly create problems for him and he would have to do something about it.
As it was, that did not happen. Harry got to do it again and again without being discovered, for which he was glad. To his confusion, however, he had mysterious dreams about a girl he couldn't see, but obviously felt something for. It didn't make sense to him.
He could remember a few glances. He and that girl sitting a train, talking about something. He and that girl sitting in front of the fire, the girl stroking a ginger cat across its fur. He and that girl lying in a small meadow in a forest, looking at the stars. He could remember her saying something about the possibility of someone looking down at them. Then he remembered sitting on a fence with her, holding her soft hands. Even though he couldn't make out the outline of her face, he knew that something made her face shift from one colour to the other.
Red, blue, green...
Harry often had trouble sleeping because of that, but also because his mark tended to burn in the later hours of the day and would cause him headaches. He was sure Annie noticed the bags under his eyes and that he had little energy to do much, but she didn't mention it once.
Not that he expected her to.
She did, however, do the strangest thing he could remember someone doing for him:
She rented a DVD for Harry, and they sat on the couch for several hours, not saying a word, but just enjoying each other's presence.
All in all, Harry was glad he had run away. He shuddered to think of what would've happened to him if he hadn't. He knew things were far from over, however. He had a strong feeling that it was just the beginning of something big that would happen very soon. Like it was just the quiet before the storm.
If only he knew what to do about it.
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