He squeezed into existence on the front step of a small little cottage, gasping for breath as he fell against the front door. His head was swimming from the pressure of being compressed through the Anti-Apparition wards. Oorjit was beating his wings frantically, and braining Harry with every flap did not help. Harry let Oorjit go with a groan and pushed himself up off the door jam.
§No more popping!§ Oorjit protested vehemently, landing on the ground a few feet away. §It is most decidedly unpleasant--especially on a full stomach!§
§It was twice as unpleasant as it should have been because of the anti- apparition wards.§
§Where are we?§
§Professor Flitwick's home, if I got the coordinates correct.§
§Well did you?§ the occamy hissed irritably. §I'm ready for a nice long nap--it's good for my digestion.§
§Considering who you ate, I wouldn't be surprised if you got indigestion anyway,§ Harry murmured pointing his wand at the front door. "Alohomora."
The door didn't click open. Figures his professor would have used something far more superior to a third-year spell. Harry gave a disgruntled sighed and jiggled the lock.
§Open,§ he hissed and the door sprung back, revealing the interior of the small home.
He gestured to Oorjit to follow him inside. Carefully he held stepped over the threshold avoiding a well placed booby-trap that hadn't been deactivated with the Parseltongue magic and turned his wand on the light sconces. They flared to life bathing the interior in a warm yellow glow. Harry sighed in appreciation looking at the overstuffed couch and heavily padded furniture.
He mused at the color scheme though--it was decorated in Slytherin colors, not Ravenclaw, like he had expected; Fitwick being an alumni of the house as well as its Head. Perhaps the diminutive professor preferred the dark green to dark blue, it was the only explanation Harry cared to give.
He pulled out his shrunken trunk and tapped it with a finite incantatem. It grew in his hand until he was forced to place it on the ground as the feather-light wore off with its growth and it became too heavy to hold.
An angry hoot alerted Harry to the danger he was in. He glanced up and through the small window between the cabinets andcounter that cordoned off the kitchen from the rest of the living room. Hedwig glared at him clearly irked; Harry shrugged her off and bent to open his trunk.
He plucked out a pair of pajama bottoms and padded softly around the place looking for the bathroom. Finding it nestled between the common room and the only bedroom he ducked in for a quick shower and a scrub.
Flitwick's bathroom was different than any he'd ever been to before, he could only stop and stare. The sink and counter were low slung along the western wall of the magically expanded room. The shower was as tiny as Hagrid's was sure to be big, but the tub sunk into the floor and looked like a small lake. Knobs decorated the walls, covering every inch of space available and even then doubling up on themselves. Harry couldn't imagine what they did.
It was apparent that the diminutive professor had a penchant for bathing and regular hygiene. Perhaps more so than anyone would normally exhibit but a quality that was admirable. Now if only he could figure out how to make the bath work.
Harry tried several knobs and levers, pushing and tugging on each in turn. Several ominous groaning sounds lead to nothing and still the bath was unfilled. He cursed his Head of House softly under his breath and turned toward the sink.
With a sigh he filled the sink placing the stopper in the drain; thankful for having a normal enough sink to deal with. Grabbing the small hand towel at the side he wet it and proceeded to give himself a scrub down. It would have to do, he thought, wringing out the towel and soaking it once more with the lukewarm water.
Unsatisfied with the whole experience, he left the bathroom after tugging on his bottoms, padding tiredly into the common room. His head was starting to throb and the adrenaline crash sapped all the strength from his limbs. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep.
Oorjit, he found to his dismay, had laid curled up against the plush cushions on the plump couch, leaving him very little room to lie down. The little spitfire was snoring lightly, his head tucked under one wing, his fat belly swollen and distended. Harry shoved the occamy over and sat himself down on the cushions, sinking gratefully into their pleasant warmth.
Oorjit grumbled, his tongue flicking out lazily in his sleep as Harry stretched out, maneuvering the snake's position once more as he got comfortable. Throwing one hand toward the fireplace, Harry started a fire which blazed bright before settling into a cozy crackling, its light dancing around the room. Harry put out the sconces and the room darkened dramatically.
He sighed appreciatively and plumped a soft cushion into a pillow. Ignoring the lingering aches and pains in his body from the forced Apparition he closed his eyes. As he drifted to sleep Oorjit mumbled softly in his own about tasty pythons.
---
Harry grimaced in pain the next morning as a series of sharp somethings dug into his skin; squeezing his eyes shut from the bright light filtering through the room he refused to be moved. The source of his torment let out a shrill hoot in his ear, deafening him for a few moments afterwards as he sat up abruptly and clutched his head.
"Ow, girl," he growled, rubbing his aching scar. "Keep the racket down. I've got a massive headache."
Hedwig hooted again shooting him an angry glare before launching into flight. She hit him with her wings as she flew past, making it clear she was still upset. Harry rubbed the tender spot for a moment before fixing his glasses back onto his face; they had fallen to the floor at some point in the night.
Just then a distinct voice called out, "Hallo? Hallo? Harry? Are you there?"
Harry dragged himself into a sitting position and waved blearily to the face in the fire. "I'm here," he told his anxious professor getting up and walking around the couch to sit down by the hearth. "What is it?"
Flitwick looked relieved at the sight of him and said, "I was checking in on you, making sure you got in all right. I take it that you found the place okay?"
Harry nodded, stuffing a yawn with his fist. "Yes, sir."
"Good. You should know," he stated conspiratorially, leaning closer. "That the whole school is in an uproar. I have never seen everyone all a tizzy like this except for when the Triwizard Tournament came through and your brother became the fourth champion."
"Yeah?" Harry asked rhetorically.
Flitwick nodded. "Students are fractured right down the middle between supporting your brother and you. Half of them think what you did was and I will quote here, 'Bloody Awesome!'"
"The other half?"
Flitwick sighed. "I'm afraid they think you cheated and don't deserve to have won the duel. They're being very malicious in their attacks upon your character on top of it."
"At least half of the school is rooting for me. That's more than I've ever had before. The professors?"
"Snape seems to be coming around to our side, albeit grudgingly. I think it's just because you whipped Daniel and James so thoroughly. He's been wanting to see someone do it for a long time. He has quite a bit of animosity from back in school because of your dad."
"Well dad's disowning me," Harry said with a shrug, scratching at the new growth of hair on his chin. "Said so right before I petrified him."
Shocked, Flitwick stammered out, "Are you aha… sure? Maybe he didn't mean it?"
Harry shook his head. "Nope, the pigheaded baboon practically gloated it to me. Overly upset that I ruined poor Dan-Dan's reputation as the best in Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"If he disowns you…" Flitwick said softly, his eyes unfocusing as the ramifications of such an act ran through his head.
"He's making a big mistake," Harry answered. "Can you imagine what the Malfoys will say to him when its finally done? 'Fine Pureblood stalk and he disowns the boy in favor of the one who is more squib than wizard.' They'll rip him to shreds."
Flitwick stared at the malicious smirk before shaking his head. "You're right. I know you're right, Lucius Malfoy will no doubt use your disownment to enact several Pureblood laws and sully the Potter name."
"Which, even if I'm disowned I can use, take a look at Black. His mother burned him off the tapestry in their ancestral home and he can't access the family vaults but he's still a Black. Though of course, depending on how much of a mess the Potter name gets dragged into I probably wouldn't keep it anyway."
"What surname do you plan on taking?" Flitwick asked curiously, his image in the flames flickering.
"Does it matter?" Harry said cynically. "Unless I chose a name carrying a lot of weight behind it from a dead pureblood line, it won't matter, it'll be branded as a muggle surname. Of course I could be contentious and chose Slytherin or something to thumb my nose at the Order and at Voldemort. That could be fun."
"Certainly. But the ramifications of such an act would be hard to live with."
Harry stared at the concerned face of his old Head of House. "The fall out would indeed be terrible. Can you imagine Malfoy senior inviting me to the manor? Dark families everywhere would either be inviting me over to see for themselves the upstart who dared to claim such a name or to kill me on Voldemort's orders."
"Not to mention Albus."
Harry waved away Flitwick's warning, as he shifted on his knees to relieve the growing stiffness in them. "Dumbledore can't see past the end of his nose and for being such a great wizard is surprisingly closed minded. He still insists Daniel is the Boy-Who-Lived despite the ample amount of suggestions and information to the contrary. He believes, I think, too much in his own image to ever admit he might be wrong. He's tried but it's like his brain goes out to lunch and he's back to his normal behavior with me."
"That doesn't sound like Albus," Flitwick frowned. "Though nothing seems to sound like Albus these days. He's been off for a while."
Harry thought for a moment. "You don't suppose he's been…" he trailed off.
"No. I'm certain he hasn't," Flitwick said, negating Harry's suspicion.
"Even the strongest willed of people can succumb to an enticing enough situation," Harry retorted, his knees creaking as he once again shifted his weight.
"Enough about him. How are you doing? You look scratched up--did aha… my wards attack you?" he asked, faintly alarmed.
Harry touched his cheek and felt the jagged edge of a scrape. He hadn't noticed it last night. "Tripped," he offered, which while true was not the cause for the scratch.
"Hmm," Flitwick said, his reservation evident in a lift of a white scraggly brow.
"Could I--" Harry started, running a hand through his hair unconsciously. "Perhaps add a ward or two of my own on the house?"
Interest sparked in the half-goblin's eyes. "What kind were you thinking of?"
"Fidelius," he mumbled, but Flitwick heard him.
"It, aha… won't work."
"I could do it!"
"No, I didn't mean that. I own the house therefore aha.. I must be in on the secret and agree to hiding the house. If you plan to live there you can't be secret keeper anymore than I could. Who else would do it for us that we could trust not to let the secret out?"
Harry's bristling anger fell away instantly. "Damn."
"Yes," Flitwick corroborated.
Harry sat there thinking, chewing on his lip for a few minutes when suddenly he straightened, eyes sparking. "What if--" he started tantalizingly, "What if I could do something similar to the Fidelius Charm that could let us get around that particular hitch?"
Flitwick shook his head in the flames, sneezing when ashes blew up on his end. "I'm afraid it just isn't possible. There's no such charm, Harry."
"But if--"
"Harry," Flitwick returned, disapprovingly. "The very nature of the Fidelius Charm is an act of love and trust. You can't bypass it. Not in any way. Someone has to love you enough to cast it and you have to trust them to hold you more dear than themselves."
"But Peter betrayed my parents…"
"Thus the Charm failed as it is meant to do. He valued himself over all else. He was a rat."
Harry ducked his head and glared at the floor. "He sure was."
"Now, I don't have the stamina of youth. My knees are creaking and I have classes to prepare for. I shall contact you later. There's food in the ice box and pantry."
"Goodbye, Professor."
Flitwick's head disappeared in a flare of green that died into a regular orange fire. Harry groaned softly as he got to his feet, knees popping all the way. He massaged a kneecap and shuffle walked into the small kitchen. Stretching his leg again, he received a satisfying crack and felt better for it.
Harry scratched at his chin, covering a yawn with the same hand as he opened the ice box and checked its contents. He was disappointed in not being able to perform the secret-keeping ward on the house. Without Flitwick's approval wizarding law and magic from the first council of the magical Witenagemot, later renamed as Wizengamot, prevented Harry from 'stealing' another's property by means of subjugation in warding, spell work, or rituals.
Rumor had it Merlin did the original wording of the verbose documents that were held in high security in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for basic rights. He had poured magic into the words and when the fifty ruling wizard clans had signed it, marked themselves and those under them subject to being held to the letter of the law. Literally.
He pulled out a chilled vat of pumpkin juice, deftly canceling the preserving charm placed on it to keep it from spoiling. He took a swig from the container and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Placing the jug on the counter he dug a little further into the ice box and pulled out a cold beef sandwich.
Hedwig flew to the counter, landing with a light click of her talons. Harry tore off a piece of his sandwich and held it under her beak. She raised her head out of the way, rebuffing his overture. Harry shrugged and popped it into his mouth. Hedwig looked nonplussed by this and hooted indignantly, shuffling her wings in agitation.
He suppose he was meant to be tripping all over himself to beg her forgiveness. Not doing so was an unforgivable act, but Hedwig couldn't rule over him forever. He hadn't outgrown her, he would always need her, but she would have to learn he didn't answer to her anymore.
Just before he polished off the last bit of the beef sandwich he offered it to her once more. "Come on," he cajoled. "I know you're hungry. You can't be that mad at me."
Hooting loudly, Hedwig told him differently as she snatched the last morsel and gobbled it down.
"There," Harry said smugly. "Much better."
Hedwig trilled shrilly causing him to wince. He left the kitchen carrying the jug of pumpkin juice back into the common room. Shoving Oorjit aside he plopped down, sinking into the couch. He sighed happily and nursed his juice while Oorjit groused wiggled very little as his distended belly was jostled.
§ Give it up,§ Harry teased, poking the lump formally known as Nagini. § I know you're a right smug bastard at the moment. You just ate the most feared snake in all of Britain.§
§ She is given me indigestion,§ Oorjit hissed, blinking open one eye to study him beadily.
§ Well she would,§ Harry returned, sipping lightly. § She was a frenzied psycho-snake. When have you ever heard those as being a rare and delicious delicacy?§
Oorjit grumbled something hard to hear, but Harry heard it and laughed.
When Harry stopped laughing he straightened up and set the vat of pumpkin juice aside. § Now, we have things to decide.§
§ I'm digesting.§
§ You can still be a contributing factor,§ Harry said, overriding Oorjit's feeble complaint.
§ Fine,§ the occamy stated sullenly.
Harry ran a hand through his hair before stopping halfway and removing it. He stared at it in disgust and dropped it to the couch. § As I see it we have a few options. We can go on the lam, take my money out of Gringotts and go hole up somewhere, we could stay put and do nothing, or we could go to Germany and find Godric's garter.§
§ I vote for the second option,§ Oorjit said without preamble.
Harry patted the occamy on the head. § Yes, clearly that is the best option. As I see it we could do the first one and be all right. Wait out the war and hope Daniel kills the Dark Lord. Since that is as likely to happen as a muggle aeroplane landing right on top of the bastard, I feel our only course of action is to do the third.§
§ What? Why!§
§ Isn't it obvious?§ Harry replied, scratching his chin again, rubbing the growing shadow. § Voldemort will try to find us and kill us for what we did--you eating Nagini and I stabbing him in the back. Hiding has the possibly of working in our favor if I can wrangle permission from Flitwick to attempt a snake language spell over the house or buy a plot of land and do the same thing there.§
§ Go on…§ Oorjit coaxed when Harry paused thinking.
§ Well. I think this garter of Godric's is probably a Horcrux. Why on earth is it a garter I don't know. The picture just doesn't gel, but we have clues and I know Voldemort. He won't hide it someplace inconspicuous, not with the items he laid a bold claim to by using them as his horcruxes. Their heritage is universal throughout Britain, believed lost or forgotten or a myth in relation to the founders of Hogwarts. We would just have to run around the famous wizarding sights of Germany until we stumbled upon it.§
Oorjit hissed disapprovingly. § Oh great plan, running around a country looking for a single mouse hole. Makes perfect sense really.§
Harry stood up off the couch and paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. Oorjit's head swayed back and forth watching his progress. Harry rubbed the back of his neck in frustration and whipped around.
§ Why don't you come up with ideas instead of just shooting mine down!§
§ I haven't said no to all your propositions, only the one,§ Oorjit recalled, flicking his tongue out to lick his nose.
§ We've gotten rid of four of his Horcruxes. There's only two left and then the Dark Lord's mortal. It wouldn't matter if he caught up with us then.§
§ You're more likely to get caught trying to find them then if you just stayed put. He must have spies everywhere.§
Harry glared at the occamy and flicked his hand, flipping Oorjit off the couch. Oorjit hissed warningly, flapping roughly to get back up to the cushion where he'd been resting.
§ Do that again and you can go alone,§ Oorjit declared, curling up, protecting his belly.
Hedwig landed on Harry's shoulder and hooted sharply at the lazing snake. He blinked open and eye and huffed. She called out again and Oorjit shook his head in disgust.
§ Fine, damn it, tell your stupid pigeon to shut up. We'll go hunting down the bloody garter.§
Harry petted his suddenly docile owl, stroking her feathers when she hopped down to his outstretched forearm.
§ Good. We'll still need to run to Diagon Alley for supplies and money. Drop into Flourish and Blotts or Wizzhard Books long enough to secure a tourist guidebook; and possibly some transportation.§
§ Joy,§ Oorjit rhapsodized, his voice surly.
Harry laughed at Oorjit's sarcasm and crossed the room to his trunk. Hunkering down he lifted the lid and plucked out one of his new outfits before striding over to the bathroom.
§ I'm going to figure out how that miniscule shower works, then we're going to make a little trip I think.§
Oorjit tucked his head under a fat coil and declared, § I'm going to nap.§
§ Enjoy it, it's going to be your last for a while,§ Harry called over his shoulder before slipping into the bathroom, all the while humming to himself.
º«««º»»»ºEnd Chapter 37º«««º»»»º