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Dark Clouds
Chapter 2

By Kinsfire

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Kingsley Shacklebolt was not expecting the door to the cell to explode outward, and it was only his Auror training that saved him from being crushed.

"You vile, disgusting bastard!" a hoarse voice yelled from inside.   "What's the reason?   Realising you're losing the war and now you need your fucking weapon?   Do you really think that I'm going to leave this cell just so that your pet Aurors can get away with killing me?   You actually think that after I was tried without any chance to defend myself, that I would be willing to trust anyone in the wizarding world?   Especially you things that pretended to be my friends!"   The voice stopped yelling for a moment, then resumed in a calmer, but world-weary tone.  "Just pick up your self-righteous ass and carry it out of this prison.   Let the Aurors get back to their games."

"Harry -" Kingsley began.

"Not that I can stop you from doing it, but I would prefer that you not use my name.   The only ones who I'll allow to use it aren't alive anymore, and I'm not in any hurry to join them.   Now get the fuck out of here and let the one who is ‘obviously’ my Lord and Master show up to take me," he finished sarcastically.

Kingsley blanched at that declaration.   He could hear the sarcasm lacing the statement, but the fear that the young man had decided to join Voldemort was still a worry.   He hoped that it was a particularly small worry.

He pulled his wand and watched as Harry shifted into a defensive pose and dropped the potentially entangling blanket.   "You’re going to earn it, Shacklebolt," he said, diving into the single corner of the room which was not in direct view from the doorway.   "I’m not leaving this cell just to be killed for ‘trying to escape.’"

Kingsley shook his head.   When they had everything that they needed, someone was going to pay, if only for the annoyance of forcing him to fight someone who seemed to have an instinctive understanding of combat.   Either that, or the Death Eaters are even stupider than anyone imagined.

He chuckled to himself as he had a sudden idea.   He created a very small mirror in the room,against the far wall, and then manoeuvred it to show Harry, who was crouched in his corner, ready to attack with his bare hands and raw magic.   He raised his wand to eye level and fired off a Stunner.

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Harry awakened an unknown time later, feeling warmer than when he had been in his cell.   He could hear people nearby and worked hard to still appear to be unconscious.   Okay, they must really need me for something if they broke me out of Azkaban.   He listened carefully and realised that he was likely at the Burrow, what with the way that sounds bounced through the helter-skelter home.   The door seemed to be closed, and he couldn't hear anyone in the room with him.   He cautiously opened an eye and found himself looking at bushy brown hair.   She appeared to be dozing in her chair, a book in her lap.

He thought for a while about what he might do.   The room was silent, and it seemed to be dark outside.   If I can get a wand, I bet I can get a good distance away from here.   I've got Hermione here, and I used to be able to use her wand.

Where the fuck am I going to go to get a new one of my own?   Even if Ollivander's was still open,   I don't exactly trust that creepy old man. Knockturn, then.  Damn, I need to get to Gringotts at least, for money.   Crap, crap, crap.   I'll figure out later how to do that.   First, I need to get out of the Burrow.

He carefully sat up and felt for his glasses, which were sitting on the table next to the bed.   He raised an intrigued eyebrow in response to their stupidity in leaving them where he could get at them so easily, and then stood and began to sneak around behind Hermione, working carefully to make no noise.   He stopped when she moved slightly but realised that she was merely shifting in her sleep.   He looked for her wand and then leaned over her to see if it was in her lap.   He was impressed by the view of her cleavage that this angle afforded him, especially when he realised that he could see the handle of her wand between her breasts.   What the hell is she doing storing it there?   It doesn't make it easier to get at, except for me.   He reached for it and pulled it out quickly, silently casting,"Silencio," as it slid free of her brassiere.   She started awake and turned to find Harry looking at her with a sneer on his face for only a moment before a red beam sent her back into unconsciousness.

He looked about the room and realised that he had to be in Percy's old room.   The window out afforded him the same view of the grounds that the view from the kitchen did, but from higher up, so he knew precisely where he was, and the greenery he saw in the light shed from the kitchen windows made him think it was late spring to early summer.   He cast another Silencing Charm, just in case, and opened the window.   He burgled Percy’s room for some clothes that he Transfigured to fit and then cast a Cushioning Charm on the ground below before jumping.

He hit with a thump and rolled to his feet quickly.   He looked at Hermione's wand and thought for a long moment after realising that no one had seen him drop from Percy’s room.   There are probably tracking charms on this thing, just in case.   Part of me wants to snap it and leave it behind, but I think I'll just drop it.   The little bitch is really the only one with any hopes of locating me, and she's pretty solidly thrown herself into the wizarding world.   Given her fuck buddy, I'm not surprised.

He thought for a bit after he dropped her wand and headed for the woods.   I'm pretty much screwed, no matter how you look at it.   I'm not going to be used by the Order and those pricks, I'm   wanted for murder in the Muggle world, and the same goes for the wizarding world.   I need to work something out, because I'm eventually going down.   I know that.   I just want to figure out how to take as many of them with me when I go.   Scrimgeour, if only because he gloated so much about getting me into Azkaban.   I'd love to take out the Aurors who enjoyed breaking my bones, but that's not likely.

He ran for a short time in silence.   I want revenge.   If I'm going down, I at least want to make sure that Aunt Horse-face and Cousin Fatso go down first.   Now I need to get to Surrey from here.   If I'm going down for murder, then I'm fucking well going to do the crime before I get executed for it.

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He finally made it to the road as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon.   Looking up and down the street, he realised he was mere yards from the tiny village of Ottery St. Catchpole.   He skirted the edge of the town but quickly realised that he was going to need to go into the town to learn the direction to Little Whinging.   He’d only travelled between Little Whinging and the Burrow by magical means before, and had no idea how to get back to Surrey the Muggle way.

What the hell kind of excuse am I going to use to convince them that I should be helped?   I don't want to hurt any of these people.   They have no idea what happened and can only trust what the Muggle papers told them.   To be honest, I really have to allow the same for the wizarding world, by and large.

I just want my betrayers to pay.   He took a deep breath and stepped into the town, waiting for it to wake up.

It wasn't more than half an hour before someone came by in an older model truck, slowing down next to him.   "Hey there, young man," said a man who looked old enoughto have taught Dumbledore’s grandfather. "You look lost."

Harry's mind worked fast as he put the finishing touches on a story he'd spent the last thirty minutes working on.   "I am.   Some … 'friends' played a prank on me.   I fell asleep in the back of their car and they dumped me, without my wallet or anything.   I woke up a little while ago near here and wandered into town."

"You’re a pretty sound sleeper if you didn’t wake up when they got you out of the car," said the old man.

Harry winced and tried to look shamefaced.   "Well, er, there might have been some alcohol involved."

The old man nodded.   "I had a night or two like that myself when I was your age.   Learn something from the experience?"

"Most definitely, sir.   Now I need to find my way back to Little Whinging, in Surrey."   He paused.   "Assuming they didn't just drive me around for a while and drop me outside town, but this doesn’t look like Surrey."

"No, son, you're in Ottery St. Catchpole in Devonshire.   You’re quite a long way from Surrey.   Climb on up in here, and I'll see what I can do for you."

Harry blinked and found himself holding back tears.   Doesn't even know me, and he's helping me, even if it's just being nice.   He climbed up into the cab and rode with the man for a very short time, until they reached the petrol station.

The unnamed driver spoke to an equally old man sitting beside the front door of the station.   "Daniel, could you let Cecil know that I won't be able to help him out today?   I've got to help this young man get home.   Some folks dropped him out here as a prank, and I'm certain that they left him without any money."

"Certainly, Charles.   He'll understand."

Harry realised that the only word that fit his attitude right now was 'gobsmacked'.   A man I've never met is helping me return to Surrey.

Charles filled the petrol tank on his truck and pulled away from the tanks with a jaunty wave at the proprietor.   They were quickly driving down the road outside of town and headed for the nearest train station.

"I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay you back, sir," Harry said as they reached the station.

"Don’t worry about it," Charles said, handing him the train ticket. "I’ve been in your shoes before, and the kindness of a stranger helped me.   Just help some stranger yourself someday."

Harry nodded at the idea. "I will," he said.

As he settled into the cabin on the train back to Surrey, he found himself thinking, Why did Kingsley want me free from Azkaban? Are the Aurors taking too many losses from Tom, and they need me to kill him off once and for all? Why couldn’t I have met people like Charles earlier in life? He’s the type of person I could be friends with, not those traitorous bastards that I left back at the Burrow.

‘You’re like a son to us, Harry,’ he sneered to himself. Screw you, Molly! If I was such a son to you, then why in hell didn’t you visit me? Why did you trust the Ministry’s take on this?

His eyes narrowed as he thought more. I was told that the only way I was leaving Azkaban was as potions ingredients, so something has happened. When did someone decide that it was my time to face Riddle? I expect that they’re hoping for a mutual take-down, so that they can get rid of two problems at the same time.

Well, I’ll be a problem all right.   I’ll make them earn they’re damned kill. I’ll kill Riddle for people like Charles, but I am not going down easily when the Aurors make their play for me. They’ll find that Harry Potter has gone quietly for the last time.

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