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Author: Rosina Ferguson Story: Harry Potter and the Book of Ages Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: WIP Reviews: 7 Words: 64,426
“Are you going to hand me over to the police?” Harry sat there, eyes glued to Sam’s face waiting for his response. Instead of answering Harry’s question, however, Sam posed one of his own. “If you were in my shoes and had just heard your story, what would you do?” Thinking back over the version of events that he had told Sam, Harry simply sighed and said, “You don’t really have much choice I suppose. I don’t know that I’d believe it.” Harry thought also of all the wondrous magical things of which he had learned since his eleventh birthday: witches, wizards, dragons, spells and Animagi. Not to mention trolls, giants and hippogriffs. The wizarding world had very strict laws about revealing itself to non-magic folk and the Statute of Secrecy had stiff penalties for those breaking it. If only Harry could explain to Sam about the magical world then he would understand, but he couldn’t. Harry rose from his seat slowly, “I’ll go and get my stuff together while you phone the police.” He turned to leave the tiny cabin, not wanting to look Sam in the face. He still had his back to Sam when he heard, “Would it help if I told you that my paternal grandparents were both Squibs?” His jaw open in astonishment, Harry spun his body round to face Sam so fast that his feet didn’t have time to catch up and he nearly fell over. “Squibs?” Harry managed to splutter. “Yup! Both my grandad and grandma on my dad’s side were Squibs. Not a drop of magical blood between the pair of them, nor in any of their children or grandchildren.” Harry had plonked himself back down on the seat staring wide-eyed at Sam. “As soon as I heard the name Harry Potter on the radio-broadcast I wondered if it was the same Harry Potter who brought down Voldemort when I was a kid. I remember going to a party with my mum and dad and looking just like you do now. There were fireworks that seemed to go on for hours. Food that made the craziest things happen when you ate it. I had some chewing gum that made bubbles that lasted for hours!” “So you know about witches and wizards?” “Oh yeah! Just ‘cos I can’t do magic doesn’t mean I don’t know about the magical world. So, would you like to try and tell me what happened again?” It was with a much lighter heart that Harry was able to explain to Sam EXACTLY what had happened and to not leave anything out, well not a lot anyway. Harry kept his knowledge of the Order of the Phoenix to himself as he had no wish to jeopardise any of the members by a careless slip of the tongue. “These Omnioculars you’ve got show whatever it is that Voldemort, Malfoy and the Death Eaters are up to then?” “Yes and it’s vital that I get them to Dumbledore as soon as possible. Everyone always says that Dumbledore is the only wizard that Voldemort is afraid of so I reckon he’d be the best person to get them to and so that’s where I’m headed.” “Isn’t Dumbledore at Hogwarts?” “I suppose so,” replied Harry, “but I have another address I can contact him at in an emergency and it’s in London. If I can come with you to Tilbury I should be able to get to London from there. It is walking distance, isn’t it?” “Sure it’s walking distance, but it’s a long walk – about 20 miles or so I reckon, but loads of lorries head into town from the docks and you could hitch a lift or just get a train. Mind you, we’ve a good few miles to go until we reach Tilbury and I’m starving hungry. Let’s go ashore to eat.” Sam rose from the tiny table, but sat down again when he noted Harry’s forlorn expression. “You worried about being recognised?” queried Sam. Harry nodded his confirmation and said, “If I’m spotted and arrested, you’ll be in trouble for harbouring a fugitive. I don’t want that after all you’ve done for me.” Sam looked at the earnest cast to Harry’s eyes and said in a low and reassuring voice, “Now why don’t you let me worry about that. I’m certain we can sort out a quick disguise. Well, good enough to go ashore for a few hours anyway.” As Harry’s mind clicked into logical puzzle-solving mode he remembered the hat that Tank had given him. He retrieved it from his pillowcase rucksack and stuck it on his head. Sam, meanwhile, had been rummaging around in a box of bits and pieces that he kept under his bunk. Emerging at last, he shouted, “Eureka! I have found it!” He held aloft some clip-on sunglasses. “These should fit your frames OK.” Harry took off his glasses and Sam quickly attached the clip-ons which fitted quite well after a little adjustment. With the hat on his head and his new sunglasses, Harry thought his disguise was OK. Well OK enough for a couple of hours anyway. They moored the Griselda and made their way ashore. “Got to have fish and chips in Hastings – best you can get anywhere,” proclaimed Sam, but Harry had spotted an item on the menu that reminded him somewhat forcefully of Ron. “Double Mixed Grill! If you can eat it all then you can eat on us!” read the challenge on the board outside the restaurant. “My best friend Ron would love to take them up on that. He doesn’t eat his food, he inhales it!” “Ron?” queried Sam. “Who’s Ron?” “My best friend, or rather one of them.” Harry was still reluctant to let Sam know too many personal details. Mad-Eye Moody was always going on about “constant vigilance” and would probably be horrified at the amount of info Harry had already given to Sam. Last year Harry had put his closest friends at great personal risk during their trip to the Department of Mysteries and he had no desire to repeat his error. In an effort to change the subject Harry said, “Isn’t Hastings the place where the Norman Invasion took place?” He remembered this fact from his junior school history classes – they had been a lot more interesting than his History of Magic lessons at Hogwarts. “Yes, it sure is. The main battle took place a couple of miles inland. There’s an Abbey on the site called, funnily enough, Battle Abbey. Well worth a visit if you’re into history. Me, I’m more interested in the future than the past. Get that from my gran I suppose, she’s great at reading the future. Tea leaves, palms, crystal ball, that sort of thing. She’s well known for it.” The conversation had been flowing as the two made their way along the seafront to a fish restaurant that Sam said was the best in town. It was immaculately clean with sparkling black and white tiles on the floor and walls with a gleaming steel fish fryer. The smell of fish and chips accompanied by the unmistakable tang of vinegar made Harry’s mouth water. They seated themselves at a table near the back of the restaurant next to a fire escape. If the police do come in then I can make a quick getaway, thought Harry but his attention was quickly focused on his meal of cod and chips with a mug of hot, strong tea. It’s difficult to be vigilant and to enjoy such delicious food. As they finished their meal, Sam leaned over and whispered conspiratorially to Harry, “Don’t look at the dessert menu – there’s a treat I’ve saved for you. Come with me!” Sam paid the bill and the two of them left the warmth of the restaurant and felt the cool night air on their face as they walked further along the seafront. There was a queue of people standing waiting to be served; Harry couldn’t make out what they were waiting for, but he joined the queue next to Sam anyway. They slowly moved forward and then Harry saw…. “Waffles! We’re queuing up for waffles?” “Yeah, but not just waffles. Just you try them!” By now they’d reached the head of the queue, “Two of your Summer Specials please!” The young girl working behind the counter of the seafront kiosk quickly and efficiently cooked two waffles on a waffle iron then sprinkled sugar on the still-hot waffles. Next, she added two extremely generous helpings of whipped cream and topped the lot off with slice after slice of fresh strawberry. The waffle was placed on squares of greaseproof paper and handed them to Sam and Harry. They were delicious! Both Sam and Harry ended up with cream on their noses and laughed at each other as they tried to lick the cream off with their tongues. Harry couldn’t remember eating anything quite so delicious including all the Hogwarts feasts he’d attended. Sam and Harry had seated themselves on a seafront bench while enjoying their waffles, but as Harry licked the last of the cream from his fingers and gazed out over the sea his calm enjoyment was brought to an abrupt and very painful end. The scar on Harry’s forehead erupted with pain causing him to cry out and clutch at his head convulsively. His scream of pain had caught the attention of passers-by, some of whom rushed to his side offering help. Since it was now dark, Harry was no longer wearing the clip-on sunglasses. The pain reached fever-pitch, causing him to rub the scar in a fruitless effort to ease the excruciating pain as the second half of his disguise – namely the hat – ended up on the floor. A middle-aged man with greying hair and a neat-cut beard had pushed to the front of the crowd around Harry. “Stand back please and let me through! I’m a doctor.” By this time Harry was lying flat on his back, Sam was kneeling at his side. The doctor grabbed Harry’s wrist, supposedly to check his pulse, but his fingers were nowhere near the pulse points below the thumb. Sam helped Harry sit up at his proclamation of, “I’m fine now. Really I’m OK. I don’t need anything.” Pulling his hand roughly from the doctor’s grasp, Harry looked down and saw what was in the doctor’s bag. Bottles that would not have been out of place in Snape’s dungeon and what was unmistakably a wand! Seeing Harry’s glance and sharp intake of breath, the doctor said very quietly, “Now, now, Mr. Potter. Please don’t make a scene. Let’s do things as quietly and unobtrusively as possible.” Harry’s look of horror was quickly noticed by Sam. Unfortunately at that precise moment another man in the crowd shouted, “Hey, isn’t that the kid the police are looking for? His picture was on tonight’s news. He’s a murderer!” Harry felt himself being pulled roughly to his feet with hands holding both his upper arms in vice-like grips. Someone was talking into a mobile phone and obviously giving directions to the police. “Hurry, we’ve got hold of that kid that’s wanted for the murder of his family in Surrey. Harry Potter. Yeah, he can’t get away; two of my mates have got hold of him. We’re outside the ‘Bel-Air’ B&B on Marine Parade.” Harry could hear police sirens in the distance as he looked fearfully around the crowd. The two men holding his arms and wrists were confident they could hold on to their prisoner - after all he was a skinny kid - until the police arrived, but as the police cars got closer Harry knew he had to get away fast. Suddenly there was a surge through Harry. Of what? Power? Electricity? Harry didn’t know, but at that moment both men released Harry, as they could no longer hold him. In that same instant Harry put his head down and charged at the crowd. They parted at the sudden change in events and Harry found his path miraculously clear. He ran! He ran as though his very life depended on it – which it probably did! Harry ran until he reached an amusement arcade packed with teenagers; he passed inside and strolled around trying to look as though he’d been there for hours. Then he saw the signs for the toilets. Harry went inside and entered a cubicle right at the back. He was in luck! The cubicle had a window in it, although it looked as though it hadn’t been opened in some time. When Harry gave it an almighty push it opened; he was able to slip between the bars and drop down into a back alley. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Harry moved to the end of the alley to get his bearings. To his right rose the steep hill with Hastings Castle on its top. Behind him was the sea and to his left was the town centre. Knowing that he had to make his way back to Sam’s boat, Harry headed inland and away from where he reckoned the police were. A long route round Castle Hill and then he could make his way eastwards to the Harbour. Walking over Castle Hill, still wearing the too large trainers, the bottom of Harry’s baggy jeans quickly became sodden from the still wet grass. Looking back towards the waffle stall, Harry could see the flashing lights atop the police cars; there were three of them now and Harry could just make out the policemen talking to the crowd. Between Harry and the sea loomed the ruins of Hastings Castle. As he stood and looked at the jagged remains, Harry remembered Hermione’s words about Hogwarts: “If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a mouldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying, ‘Danger! Do not enter! Unsafe!’” Here, however, all Harry could see were ruins with a well-maintained fence and a ticket office with a sign showing opening times and admission prices. If only it had Muggle-Repelling Charms on it then perhaps I could enter and hide from the police, thought Harry. To his astonishment the entrance gate seemed to glow blue and shimmer for a split second. Cautiously Harry approached it and held out one hand to touch it. His hand went straight through! It was charmed! Harry stepped right up to the gate and passed through it, thankful for the temporary sanctuary. B/N: The mammoth delay in posting is entirely my fault! Hopefully chapter 10 will come sooner.
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