Harry careened headlong into safety, just barely managing to keep himself upright. Wizard-style travel was such a pain in the arse. If one wasn't getting crushed through a black hose, splinched in half, tumbling headlong out of fireplaces covered in grime, smacking into windows and lurching sickeningly around corners, you were falling headfirst after being tossed about in a whirligig of compressed space.
He let go of Oorjit and took off the petrifying hex, freeing the poor occamy of the immobilization effects. It was then he realized he didn't have Hedwig with him and he groaned covering his face with his hands.
§She'll kill me,§ he said behind his hands.
§Perhaps, however, you have slightly more pressing matters.§ Oorjit said dryly, flapping his wings irritably as he stretched and curled his slender body working out its kinks.
Harry nodded. §Flitwick is in danger, possibly dead.§
§Voldemort will trace the portkey distortion signature.§
§Right,§ Harry agreed, holding out his arm for Oorjit to land on. §Obviously we must be heading out then.§
The occamy perched heavily on the arm, reminding Harry of the dull heavy ache of the curse he'd been hit with earlier. Oorjit curled his tail tightly around his arm, causing the ache to throb warningly. He just barely managed to withhold from wincing. The blasted snake was doing it on purpose.
§Quit it,§ Harry warned.
§Or what?§ Oorjit said with studied indifference. §You'll immobilize me again?§
Harry dropped the argument and, with a thought, locked on Oorjit's presence and shifted their masses to one hundred kilometers south of Nuremberg, a small dot on the traveler's map, with easily memorable coordinates; from there he Apparated them to the smaller wizarding village of Zauberin, founded seven hundred years ago by the Zweig family. The town was famous for its local brewery which produced many fine selections but was most known for its ale.
Materializing in the middle of town, his appearance evoked several stares and shocked a few more, who stared at him and Oorjit like they'd grown two heads. Realizing how disheveled and wounded he looked, Harry cast a quick glamour and hoped for the best. His knee twinged in pain as he started walking around the small crowd of shoppers and villagers to the inn on the other side of the square.
Oorjit drifted in the air above him and with a parting hiss indicated he was going to go hunting in the meadow to the north. Harry glanced down the wide main street with an unheeded view of the snowy meadow and waved a hand at the departing occamy.
He entered the well lit and cozy little inn, basking in the sudden warmth that seeped into his limbs. Harry drifted over to the innkeeper behind the counter, his gaze alighting on every gleaming surface. The whole place cheered him. It was nothing like the Three Broomsticks or the Warty Inn of Hogsmeade.
The beaming innkeeper had a jovial round face and greeted him in German. Harry quickly cast the translating spell Luna had given him upon his expulsion and returned a hesitant hello.
"Good, you speak German," the innkeeper said. "Of course with help from a spell, but no matter. The mother language is a beautiful one and with extensive use of the charm, you should no doubt start to understand segments of our speech and before long you'll be as fluent as Ludo my son. I'm joking of course, you'll speak much better than my four-year old, at least I hope."
"Er… thanks, I think."
"How can I help you?" said the man, opening a ledger and pulling out an abacus which seemed to move and calculate on its own when left to its own devices.
"I need to make an international fire call. It's an emergency."
The innkeeper's eyebrows raised. "What is wrong?"
"I must speak with my uncle," Harry fibbed. "He sent me away from a fight, you see, to protect me. I have to make sure he's okay."
"Can you not jump to him?"
Harry shook his head vehemently. "No, the wards stop me, so Floo?"
"This way, there's a small converted broom cupboard with a chair. Not much, but you'll have more privacy and a longer time without incoming interruption from travelers and guests."
"Thank you," Harry said, following the man to the small niche. "How much do I owe you?"
"If you're uncle is fine, then you and I will discuss. Otherwise, my sincerest condolences. I've heard about those men in the black robes with white faces. The Dead Eats?"
"Death Eaters."
"Yes, the Death Eaters. Terrible business. Been a few unsettling occurrences over here, disappearances and the like. The papers say it's nothing to worry about."
"It started as disappearances in Britain too."
"I see," the innkeeper said, looking unsettled. "I think when you are done I will call my Becky and tell her to come back from that confectionary conference she's at. Becky is English like you. She and I married the summer of her second European Tour."
The innkeeper's worried frown was the last thing Harry saw before the door was shut and he was alone in the claustrophobic room. The heat from the fire was unbearably hot, and Harry cast a cooling charm on his feverish skin before grabbing a handful of the international purple Floo powder and throwing it into the fire. The flames flared, flashing a bright purple before calming and dancing merrily in the hearth.
"Flitwick Cottage."
"Password?" came a warm monotone voice.
"The firebird's flame is searing in knowledge that is neither good nor evil and simply is."
The image in the flames coalesced into an image of Flitwick's common room. At first it appeared empty and Harry was disappointed until he caught movement from the direction of the kitchens.
"Professor!" he called out.
The tiny head of his diminutive ex-Head of House jerked upright. A wand appeared in his hand as if it had always been there, mystifying Harry, before he locked gazes with Flitwick.
"It's good to see you all right."
"Who are you?" Flitwick snarled, leveling the wand at Harry's flaming head.
"Harry Potter, sir," Harry stated confused.
"Harry doesn't know German."
Enlightenment dawned and Harry quickly thought of the cancellation of the charm, letting it drop. "Sorry professor, it really is me. I'm glad to see you're all right."
"What did Luna find in my hat the day you were expelled?"
"A er.. bootplunky? Plinky? A hamster-thing."
Flitwick lowered his wand and tucked it in his sleeve. "That killing curse almost hit you. I was afraid it had when you disappeared. I am glad you fire called. Where are you in Germany?"
"Zauberin."
"Aha… I know a friend there. A Mrs. Amsel, she runs a bakery. Makes the most delicious blackbird pie. The birds of course are unharmed and fly delightfully away after cutting through the crust. Be sure you give her a visit and say hello for me now."
"Yes, sir."
"Now Harry, why are you in Germany?"
"Looking for something."
Flitwick leveled him with a shrewd look humming noncommittally under his breath. "Sure thing, Harry. Might I ask however how you intended to continue your studies whilst on this search of yours?"
Harry ducked his head sheepishly. "I had thought to pop in on the weekends in Hogsmeade like we had planned."
"And had this little disturbance not occurred, would you aha… have told me you were out of the country?"
Harry grinned slightly. "Guilty as charged. Sir, how did you escape Voldemort?"
"I activated some of my more interesting wards and drove them off. Apparently Voldemort wasn't aiming to attack my home so much as he was trying to get to you. Do you have any idea why is he after you?"
"I'm related to Daniel. Isn't that enough?"
"Perhaps. Perhaps, he went after you because Daniel's been exposed as a fraud. That leaves me with yet one more thing to apologize to you for. Might I ask you aha… an indelicate question?"
Harry shrugged.
"Was it you and your deeds Daniel always described so effusively as his own?"
"Yes."
Flitwick's expression saddened, a trace of pity lingering in his bright blue eyes before being pushed aside with a look of determination. "We'll start training the day after tomorrow. Twice a week, inside the Shrieking Shack. No excuses, not even this European Tour business you have going on will stop our meetings. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Get some medical attention and some rest."
"Thank you," Harry said quietly, retreating out of the flames.
"It is I who should be thanking you," Flitwick countered, "for giving me the chance to right some wrongs."
The image of Flitwick's home dispersed in a shower of sparks and the flames returned to their normal color. Harry rubbed his tired eyes and thought about how angry Hedwig would be when they met again the day after tomorrow. That was twice he'd left her behind in nearly as many days. In fact, angry was too dull a word; Hedwig would be livid and riled up enough to give him a few scars from her sharp talons by way of retribution.
Harry opened the door and stepped out of the tiny space, closing it behind him with a soft click. He made his way back to the innkeeper who watched him come over with concern. Harry offered up a tired smile and recast the translating charm on himself.
"How is your uncle?"
"My uncle is well. Apparently they had been thwarted by some very potent and latent wards my uncle had ready to spring on them. He's nothing if not thinking ahead two paces when it comes to dueling," Harry paused, "Of course he's starting to sound more and more like Alastor Moody--"
"The crazy Auror? Yes, yes, I've heard of him. Quite the character."
"You said I would owe something if news was good?" Harry asked taking a small pouch of money out of his pockets. "I'm afraid all I have right now is a couple of galleons, a few sickles, and a handful of knuts."
"First time out of the country?" the man asked bemused.
Harry looked up from the pile of coins in his hand. "It is."
"Goblin money is the same everywhere. Why do you think the galleon is so high in conversion rates with muggle money? Very rarely does local economics play on it's value. The call will be 12 knuts."
Harry counted them out and handed them to the man. "Do you have any rooms available to rent?"
"Yes, yes. Plenty of rooms. I will set you up then go fire call my Becky."
A few more coins were exchanged and Harry was escorted to a spacious private corner room with it's own fireplace and bath.
"There's no connection to the Floo," the innkeeper said beside the door and Harry nodded, waving the man off to go call his wife.
The door shut tightly leaving Harry alone and he indulged himself with a loud groan and flopped heavily onto the bed. He ached now all over and could barely wrap his mind around the idea that he was in another country searching for pieces of the Dark Maggot's soul. He groaned again, forcing himself to sit up and take the trunk out of his pants.
He enlarged it and placed it at the foot of the bed. When it was full size he opened the second compartment grabbing several toiletries and carrying them into the small bath adjoining his room. He took a shower, scrubbing off leftover goo, vomit, and blood, and then he took some time to relax under the spray of the warm water; he stood there mindlessly letting the water pound down around him.
After a while though he turned the spray off and got out, drying himself on a soft fluffy white towel. He shaved quickly and finished up with his ablutions, not bothering with the comb he'd packed. His hair was sticking up all over the place, but previous battles with it had taught him not to care so much.
He eyed his appearance in the mirror, focusing on the red stripe in his hair and shaking his head at his life. It would seem he had his validation, his word was weighted against his brother and found true. All his brother's lies had surfaced and the joy he should have felt was not present. He wasn't even slightly smug. All right, perhaps he was, but there was a hollowness to the victory.
His father hated him, planned to burn him off the family tapestry and cut him off from the Potter line as soon as he woke from his petrified state. His mother was oblivious, focusing all her attention on James. He doubted she had even tried to wrap her mind around the sudden switch in her sons, with Daniel now being reviled and Harry being glorified. Hermione was more elated then he was by this turn of events and Luna was lost to the workings of the universe, interpreting it as if it were her personal toy.
"It's not a toy, Harry," she singsonged from the other room.
Harry jerked out of his thoughts, canceling the translator spell once more, and padded quickly into the bedroom, sifting through his pants pocket for the mirror. "Luna?" he questioned, staring down at her pink face.
"Oh my," Luna chirped, blushing, "I never realized you were so built. You sure are scrumptious, like the kettlopper in daddy's backyard."
"Luna," came Hermione's voice warningly in the distance.
"Hang on a sec," Harry said as he put the mirror down on the bedspread and hurried to his trunk opening the first compartment and pulling out a pair of clean robes.
"How many robes have you ruined?" Luna asked dreamily, when he came back into view. "And how?"
"Several. Fights."
"Hero work is hazardous to one's wardrobe," she said, nodding sagely, pulling her wand from behind her ear. "Sassafrazzle."
A flash of pink light danced across the surface of the mirror.
"That's not possible!" Hermione declared hotly, sounding perturbed. Harry grinned.
"That's Luna," Harry said with a cheeky smile. "It's good to hear from you both."
Luna waved away his words. "I needed to make sure you were all right."
Touched, Harry's gaze softened. "Worried about me?"
She nodded eagerly. "My leftover bread crumbs at dinner this evening told me you were being attacked by giant fooluzzelers. I wasn't sure what a fooluzzeler was, but it can't be good."
Bemused Harry shook his head. "I'm fine. Thanks for checking in."
Hermione took the mirror from Luna and with a singularly exasperated look at the blond she turned her attention to Harry. "I told her there was no such thing as a fooluzzeler, but she didn't believe me. Insisted quite a bit to use the mirror."
"Thank you," Harry said, arranging himself more comfortably against the headrest. "I appreciate your letting Luna call me."
Hermione smiled shyly. "It's not a problem Harry. I know she's your friend… and--and I think she might even be mine."
Harry could hear the questioning lilt in her voice and said, "Luna doesn't have one mean bone in her body. How could she not like you? Of course you're friends."
"Yes, well," Hermione shifted, his view of her wavered as she got more comfortable. "I thought it might be nice to check in."
"Share the latest gossip?" he guessed.
"The inquiry is pushing forward. My parents have come up with a squib attorney the few times Aurors or Ministry
Officials dropped in to ask questions. They want to check and double check my story. I think they're talking to the
Weasleys too, though I'm not sure what they're saying. My story hasn't changed.
"Lucius Malfoy came once in the official capacity as a Board Member. He delivered a bag of gold for negligence on the school's part in taking action. I think the Board of Governors finding me in the right will pave the way for what the Ministry would consider an equitable end. Lucius also had a written letter of apology from Dumbledore. I think it was forced out of him."
"I doubt very much Dumbledore eats crow very easily." Harry smirked, relishing the very thought before continuing, "Lucius is in his element. Be careful and don't see him alone again. Especially if he starts asking you about us or me. I don't trust him."
"He did ask about you, Harry," Hermione said, suddenly worried. "I told him you were safe at a professor's home when he commented on you being out in the world alone without anyone to lean on."
Harry groaned. "I was attacked at Flitwick's home tonight. Hermione."
She gasped, her eyes going bright and watery. "I'm so sorry Harry. I didn't--I mean I should of realized--I can't believe I was so stup--"
"It's okay, honestly, happens to the best of us. Don't cry Hermione," Harry replied, her worry and tears causing his stomach muscles to cinch tight. "Both of us are fine. I thought perhaps Flitwick had told you both about the attack and that's why Luna was insisting on calling me tonight because she somehow felt I was in danger."
Hermione wiped at her leaking eyes and sniffed loudly. "I'm such a mess. Since you've left I teeter throughout the day. I can be good one minute and bawling the next."
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "It'll be better."
"When Harry?" she asked, her luminous brown eyes boring into him. "When does it get better? I can't stop thinking about you. Us. That kiss the night you left Hogwarts. Why are you punishing me? What happened with Daniel; I wasn't myself! Stop punishing me, Harry."
"Hermione--"
"I miss you, Harry," Hermione inserted, shaking her head. "But I need to know where we stand. Where I am in your affections. Do you love me? You've never said it you know."
"Hermione, I--" Harry floundered. "I--"
"Yes, Harry," she said, suddenly eerily calm, making Harry nervous.
"I do care for you, I care a great deal, but whenever you get close I picture Daniel doing the same things I do to you and I can't do that. I can't compare myself to him anymore, not even for you, Hermione--not even for your affections."
Hermione blinked slowly, digesting his hastily spoken words. "But Harry, Daniel can't even compete with you. You outclass him on all counts, especially in those matters concerning my affections."
"But since the--the incident with Horcrux, you've compared me to him," Harry replied, firming his jaw. "I would do something and then you would point out how I do it exactly like him."
"I didn't mean to," she said, stricken.
"But you did," Harry said, unable to withhold his bitterness. "How could you not? We are after all twins. You must have compared every kiss of mine to one of his. You practically told me I was as bad as he was, Hermione!"
Hermione shook her head vehemently, "Never!"
"You did!"
"Harry, whatever it sounded like it was not what I meant. I know you're better than Daniel. You prove it every day, with every breath you take."
"Then how come--"
"I was distraught, Harry! You weren't there for me. When you were around I was still reliving everything, torturing myself with it over and over."
"Adding me into the mix too."
"No," she denied. "I always looked back and saw your face. I know being with Daniel, even for a little bit, even when it wasn't really me, killed a little bit of you. You were so hurt and you still are, but you have to move beyond it, Harry or we won't work. We can't work, not with this still between us."
"I don't know if I can."
"Get over it."
"It's not that easy," he growled.
"It is that easy!"
"Hermione," Harry said tiredly. "I'm trying. I still need time."
"I love you, Harry," she whispered. "But I can't wait for you forever."
The mirror went blank.
"Hermione," Harry said, touching the mirror. "Hermione!" he called.
When she didn't reappear even after he gave the password, he flung the mirror away and ran his fingers through his hair. She was wrong to force this conversation, wrong to deny him more time--she was wrong. Harry stared blankly down at his bare feet for a long time; rising only to open the window for Oorjit and turn off the lights. He lay awake in bed long past the dead of night, wondering if he was right.
º«««º»»»ºEnd Chapter 39º«««º»»»º