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Betrayal of the Best Kind
Flee

By Draco664

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Flee

"My Lord! There is something you need to see."

Voldemort looked up at Lucius Malfoy. "It had better be important, Malfoy. I dislike being interrupted."

"Only treason, my Lord."

Voldemort leapt to his feet. "Who?"

"See for yourself, my Lord." Lucius said, and passed a mirror to his master.

The Dark Lord peered into the rather dainty hand mirror, watching the scene of Harry Potter emptying the shelves of his room into a backpack. "Damning, and something that will require Potter to explain his actions, but hardly treasonous."

"Potter has been brewing potions without the supervision of my wife. I am curious as to why he feels it necessary to keep things from you."

Voldemort gave his longest serving minion a steady look. "I know you feel that Potter has never been as loyal as he should be. You have warned me before of possible inconsistencies in his behaviour. For that, I'll let you question him."

"Thank you, my Lord."

Harry stuffed the last book into his enchanted bag. Looking around, the empty shelves and potion cabinet looked almost forlorn. He hefted his bag onto his shoulder, grunting a little under the weight. One last check of his pockets, and Harry summoned the elves.

They looked confused at all being summoned at once, but all stood silently as Harry rummaged through his wardrobe.

Their confusion turned to dismay as Harry passed each of them a robe. "Don't worry. This is just to get you out of here. I want you all to go to Hogwarts, ask to speak to Professor Dumbledore."

The expression on the faces of the elves went from dismay to terror. Harry realised that asking these elves to approach a wizard was a frightening concept.

"If you don't feel you can talk to him, ask to speak to Dobby or Winky, they're house elves too. They'll make sure you can work at Hogwarts, it is the best place for a house elf. Imagine, mess everywhere, and three meals a day need to be cooked for one thousand people. There is even a poltergeist there who throws water balloons around. You'd have to clean it all up, and the best thing is that no one will hit you. Hell, no one would even see you."

The looks of delight crossed the features of all the elves. Dressed in their new robes, they snapped their fingers and disappeared, presumably to go to visit Dumbledore.

Smiling at the obvious joy he had given the elves, Harry gave his room one last look. He had created a backpack that was larger on the inside than the outside, combined with a major lightening charm. With it, he could literally pack the entire contents of the room, and carry it on his back.

Harry opened his door and looked up and down the corridor. Removing a pair of tiny flasks of the potion mixture he had finally created correctly a couple of nights ago, Harry opened the flasks, and poured one into the other. He then placed the full flask gently but strategically behind the door. For the mixture to be explosive, it needed double the amount held in one small flask. Harry smiled to himself. His own invention was safe to carry, and deadly to use.

Making his way down the dimly lit corridor, Harry was startled by voices from behind him. Ducking behind one of the suits or armour, Harry peaked through the chinks in the metal plates and gaped at the sight.

Voldemort and a handful of Death Eaters has come from the opposite direction and stood outside Harry's door, less than twenty feet away. Harry recognised Lucius Malfoy from the wand one of the Death Eaters carried. The wand was levelled at the door.

Harry covered his ears. The concussion wave knocked the suit of armour over and on top of him. He felt the various pieces of metal armour land around him, bouncing off his head and shoulders.

Leaping to his feet, Harry fought off a momentary wave of dizziness. Voldemort and his cronies were lying in front of him, stunned, but not unconscious. He turned and bolted just seconds before he heard his name shouted. A white-hot curse grazed his arm as he ran.

This was not how he expected his escape to start.

Wormtail watched with anticipation as Lucius drew his wand and aimed it at the door to Potter's room. James' son had embarrassed him several times since Voldemort offered him a place at the Dark Lord's side. Now Wormtail looked forward to payback.

As Lucius' curse hit the door and blew it open, Wormtail had a faint premonition that something was very wrong. He watched as the wall around the door exploded and hurled him backward into the opposite wall. Just as the sound of the explosion registered in his mind, blackness overtook him.

Macnair raced down the richly furnished corridor, towards the explosion that shook the wing. Ahead at the sharp right turn, Potter appeared, running the other way. He was running so fast that he bounced off the left wall, making a complete turn, unable to make the corner completely at his speed. The backpack he carried seemed to be weighing him down. Blood ran down his face from a couple of cuts in his scalp, and splattered his clothes

"Watch... out! Min...is...try... raid!" he shouted between ragged breaths as he passed the Death Eater.

Macnair sneered at the rapidly retreating back of the boy. He was supposed to be a Gryffindor? The Death Eater faced the corridor's turn, hearing several wizards running towards the bend from the other direction. He raised his wand and prepared to show that coward what a Death Eater was made of.

Macnair's first curse crashed into the wizard that first rounded the bend, laying him flat. His second and third also found their mark, before his Master's furious magical assault lifted him off his feet and sent him flying back down the corridor towards the vanishing figure of Harry Potter.

Harry had no idea how his instinctive blurted claim of a ministry assault affected the chase. He had seen Macnair, and the idea just popped into his head. Hopefully, Macnair would slow the other Death Eaters down. For now, Harry simply ran. The corridors he ran down did not look familiar, nor did they appear to open onto any room with windows to the outside.

There was a stairwell coming up, and a T-intersection in the corridor. Which way should he run?

Shouts coming from the direction he was running towards. Harry couldn't tell from which direction after the intersection ahead the voices were coming from. Well, that left up.

Launching himself up the marble staircase four steps at a time, Harry was silently thankful for the physical training he had been forced to go through for the last couple of months. He rounded the top of the stairs, and fled down yet another corridor. There had to be a room with a window somewhere around here.

Think, Harry, think! Where are you? Right, north wing of Buckingham Palace. Not helpful. Wait, yes it was!

Mentally slapping himself, Harry drew his wand and cast the spell he used in the third task, charming his wand to point due north.

The wand pointed directly to his left. A corridor wall. Harry silently cursed and continued to run down the empty hall. Up ahead, there a door in the left-hand wall! Reaching it as Death Eaters appeared at both ends of the corridor, Harry prayed that the room within would have a window.

Bursting through the door, Harry's heart dropped. It was an enormous ballroom, doors on all four walls.

Harry sprinted directly across the room, his shoes sounding remarkably loud on the polished floor. He was less than two strides from the door in the opposite wall when it opened, Wormtail appearing in the way, blood running down his face, his expression changing to one of anger to surprise.

Harry lifted his elbows, and crashed into his parent's betrayer, knocking him over. Harry made sure he trod heavily on the Death Eater's face for good measure as he sped on, into the new corridor.

At least this corridor had several doors. Harry reached the closest one and wrenched it open. A vista of high, arched windows greeted him. Through them, Harry could see the lights of the London skyline.

With a yell of triumph, Harry ran straight at the window. He was halfway across the room when he swung the bag off his shoulder and hurled it at the window. The heavy bag smashed through the window, taking out several panes of glass. Harry leapt through after the bag and transformed in mid leap. Diving down, he grasped the bag in his claws before it hit the ground, and with powerful beats of his wings, a beautiful phoenix sped north. Faster than even magical eyes could see, he was gone from sight in an instant.

Seconds later, several robed people burst through the door, firing curses and hexes to all corners of the room. One stormed to the broken window, and looked down, expecting to see the body of a young man lying on the ground below. All he saw was the uniformed members of Her Majesty's personal bodyguards, running around below. Amusing as it was to see them befuddled by the anti-muggle charms on the wing, the serpent-featured man didn't laugh.

Snapping his head from side to side, Voldemort couldn't make out even a simple escape route Potter could have taken. He turned to Wormtail, who was flinching from his Master's almost incandescent rage.

"Bring Macnair to me. I want to find out why he was protecting Potter," he snarled.

"Yes, my Lord!" Wormtail screeched, and bolted. He was inordinately glad to be out of the Dark Lord's sight.

"Oh, Wormtail?" Voldemort's deceptively calm voice said.

The short Death Eater was almost at the door, but stupidly turned around to face his Master.

"Crucio!"

For several seconds, Peter Pettigrew thrashed on the floor in agony.

"That is for letting Potter through your fingers twice tonight," Voldemort said after releasing his servant from the curse.

"Yes, my Lord!" Wormtail gasped, desperately trying to regain is breath.

"Master! We must flee!" Avery shouted, entering the room.

"What? I want Potter. I'm going nowhere."

"No, Master. The ministry! It's a raid!"

Arthur Weasley was a satisfied man. He had an absolutely wonderful wife, who he thought was the greatest woman in the world. He had seven children, all of whom he loved to distraction. From casual Bill and danger-loving Charlie, to serious and studious Percy. Fun-loving Fred and George, who of course did try his patience at times, and Ron, who seemed to be a combination of all his brothers. And Ginevra, dear little Ginny, his beloved daughter, he doted on her, he would have spoiled her rotten if he had the chance.

Now, the interim Minister of Magic sat at his office after a particularly productive evening, feet on the massive oak desk, leaning back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. The self-satisfied smile on his face made him appear a decade younger.

Harry Potter, he thought, you are the greatest gift to the wizarding world.

Since his (very) early morning discussion with Dumbledore and Sirius Black, Arthur had organised secret and subtle wards to be extended over the whole of Green Park, and overlapping Buckingham Palace. At once, magical activity was recorded, most of it dark in origin.

It only took a few hours to gather enough evidence to organise a raid, and only two days to organise that raid. In a massive yet discrete operation, hundreds of Ministry officials deployed themselves to Buckingham Palace, and launched an assault on the headquarters of the Dark Lord.

From the start, it was obvious that the Death Eaters within were distracted. Only moments before signalling the start of the raid, those on the scene heard a massive blast from the north wing. With the Queen's personal regiment on the scene in seconds from their barracks across a street, all physical escape routes were sealed.

Fighting had been sporadic at best. Many rooms, crammed to the ceiling with damning dark objects, were found, all without guards. That explosion, which the muggle press was speculating was a terrorist attack, had caused all of Voldemort's forces to leave their posts, leaving them hopelessly out-manoeuvred during the Ministry's assault.

It was quite apparent from early on that the Death Eaters were not going to win this encounter. With only two days preparation, no word of the raid had managed to leak back to Voldemort's ears.

Quite unexpectedly, the muggle soldiers had forced the dark wizards within to use magical means to escape.

Except that with the new extended wards, apparation and portkey usage could be tracked and traced.

Over half a dozen safe houses and hideouts had been identified. Tens of millions of galleons worth of magical items, equipment and funds had been impounded. At least a third of the people on Harry's list had been arrested or killed. Only two aurors had been injured in the raid, one had been showered with glass from a breaking window and was being treated for multiple cuts, the other had tripped and fallen down a flight of stairs, spraining his ankle, for Merlin's sake.

Reporters had been in the Ministry head office when they started bringing those captured in. Even Rita Skeeter, vengeful parasite that she was, had been rendered speechless at the astounding success of the evening's raid. He had felt a warm glow at the faces of the assembly, as one after the other, a seemingly never-ending line of Voldemort's supporters had been traipsed through the building.

Yes, Arthur Weasley was a very satisfied man.

Harry flared his wings and slowed to a hover, dropped his bag and transformed. The feeling of joy at flying for the first time in months still flooded through him, giving him a smile he was sure that not even the Cruciatus curse could wipe off.

He had flown due north from London, without looking back. His sharp eyes had managed to pick out all sorts of details on his journey, useful sites he would need to investigate further.

For now, Harry looked around the rocky cavern where Sirius and Buckbeak had stayed during Harry's fourth year. It was almost completely undisturbed, Harry could even make out the distinctive tracks of a hippogriff in the dirt floor.

In one corner, there was a large container, covered in a tatty blanket. Harry felt his eyes grow unfocused and had difficulty thinking about it. Shaking his head to clear out the feeling of lethargy, he realised that Dumbledore must have placed an aversion charm on it. If he didn't know it should have been here, Harry doubted he would have seen it.

Harry moved over and was about to remove the dirty blanket, when he stopped, arm outstretched. Thinking quickly, Harry spent several minutes setting up some short term anti-apparition jinxes. Small scale, they extended little further than twenty metres from the cave entrance, and would last little more than an hour. Still, it would give him enough time should anyone try and ambush him.

Harry smiled wryly to himself, mouthing the words 'constant vigilance'. He wondered if the real Moody was this paranoid at his age. He doubted it, this sort of paranoia comes from everyone really being out to get you.

Harry removed the blanket, and felt the aversion charm being broken. Harry made his way to the cave mouth and waited to ensure he didn't need to flee.

Several minutes later, Harry went back into the cave to examine the contents. A letter from Sirius and a quill were placed on top of the carefully wrapped packages inside.

Bambi,

I hope you manage to read this. I worried myself silly after you decided to infiltrate those bastards. The old man didn't tell me what you said as you left, so thought you'd actually joined him.

I've got no idea why you want all these weird things, or what you intend to do with them. I didn't recognise most of the stuff, that fluoric acid is bloody potent, eh? Next time you see the greasy git, don't be too upset if he's a little pissed at you. For someone who knows all about handling dangerous liquids, he squeals like a girl when something eats through his shoes.

A special friend of yours wanted me to thank you on her behalf, for taking such good care of her recently. There's someone here who resembles you occasionally who is ready to cry for you, I'm sure you can use that.

If you can, come by and visit. I'm still here, though a rather high ranking minister now has been introduced to a large dog. I doubt we'll need to keep the dog hidden from the world much longer.

You are safe where you are, since a grand total of two people know your whereabouts. Four others are interested, one especially wants to meet you. Prongs was a bit of a ladies man himself, but he never had three beautiful girls desperate to hug him at once. Lucky lad.

Once you open this letter, an owl will be on its way. If you want privacy, just send it back, but please tell us how you are.

Snuffles

Harry read through the letter a couple of times. Cho wanted to thank him? She had been hurt and scarred, and almost raped because of him. Hermione and Ginny wanted to hug him? He had rendered both of them unconscious the last time they met.

Harry hoped that Sirius was telling the truth. Not that he thought that Sirius would ever lie to him, but he may have been given false information.

No, he had better write to his godfather, but tell him not to let anyone come near. That would be too dangerous. With any luck, there would be an end to this once and for all.

Harry turned the parchment over, and picked up the quill and began to write.

Dear Snuffles,

I wasn't going to write, but I need to let you know that I am now OK. I left tonight, I even managed to take a small amount of revenge for you. (Not full revenge of course, but if you see Wormtail before I do, ask if the boot print on his face hurt much. I slammed my elbow into his nose too, so he may have trouble with sibilant sounds now, don't laugh too much.)

I learned a lot over the last few months. Not much of it would be useful in a peaceful world, but I'll put it to good use soon. With any luck, things will finally be at an end for the world, and you can go have puppies.

Don't worry about me, I'm not staying here. I won't endanger you or my friends like that. Please give this vial to my special friend, along with my heartfelt apologies. I wish I'd never brought her back with me that night.

There isn't much more to say. I have been proud to know you, and I hope you have been proud of me.

Please do not try to contact me. I doubt you will ever see me again, there is just one last thing for me to do.

Harry.

Harry put down the quill, and a snowy owl drifted in.

"Hedwig!" Harry exclaimed. His snowy friend landed on his shoulder and nipped his ear. "I have a letter for you. Just wait a moment."

Harry looked in the chest of goodies, and extracted an empty fist-sized vial. He spent the next half hour crying into it as a phoenix.

Harry tied the letter and vial to Hedwig's leg. He traced the tips of his fingers over Hedwig's beautiful feathers. "Farewell girl. Do me a favour, and take care of Hermione. She needs to be able to write to people, and you are the only owl around intelligent enough to give her a run for her money."

Hedwig just stared at her owner. Harry remembered all the times he only had her to talk to while stuck at the Dursleys. "Thank you girl, I'll miss you."

Without waiting for Hedwig to leave, Harry turned back to the chest of items he requested, and began to charm the contents, beginning with the Snape-eating fluoric acid.

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