The Great Escape, a Harry Potter Omake File

[Innortal]

The completed chapter. Tell me what you think.

Innortal









The Great Escape

Disclaimer: I don’t own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.

I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow my to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.

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It was a solemn gathering at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Only hours ago, during a shift change in the guard protecting Harry Potter, was it noticed that the Boy-Who-Lived had disappeared.

What followed was an immediate call to arms by Professor Dumbledore, a gathering of all the Order members to determine what had happened, and where Harry Potter might be now.

It was also a time when many members were debating about using the Unforgivables on Mundungus “Dung” Fletcher for not only skipping out early on his turn in guard duty, but basically leaving the moment the previous guard had apparted away.

“Alastor,” said Dumbledore, his voice heavy and worried, “what do we know?”

“That Mundungus should be executed.”

The man whimpered a bit, reminding quite a few of a sniveling Wormtail.

“Aside from that,” said Dumbledore, resolving that the man was going to need a serious talking to about responsibility.

“From what we can gather, a small team entered the area when Mundungus abandoned his post,” growled Moody.

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A young silvery blond girl hopped off the Knight Bus, a smile on her face, as she turned and curtsied the driver, causing both the conductor and the driver to smile and wave at her, before the doors shut.

When the bus departed with its usual bang, the blond girl looked around, trying to find the landmarks she needed. “I believe ... this way,” she said, glad for once that unlike her older sister, she actually listened to her grandmother and studied English.

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“From there, we believe they met up with a team of Dementors. We’re not really sure what happened at that point, but they did something to them.”

“Dementors!” cried Molly Weasley. “By Merlin, what were they doing there?”

“I believe that either Voldemont sent them, or another force sent them. Judging by the area, I’d say the most likely target was Harry. And judging by what remained of them, I’d say the team that took Harry didn’t take kindly to someone trying to take their prize.”

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Gabrielle glared at the two Dementors before her, her skin already feeling the chilling effect the creatures produced in all life forms, something she found difficult to shake off, even with the fact her blood was one quarter Veela.

Of course, that also gave her a small advantage. Centuries before, when the Dementors were a problem still in the wizarding world, one wizard studied the one entity that seemed to be immune to the Dementors, whose very presence was as painful to a Dementor as a Dementor was to a human.

He studied the Veela.

Now while the Dementors could feed off positive emotions, they had trouble handling concentrated amounts of it. Of course, he soon realized that non-full-blooded Veela could feel the effects of the Dementors. Thus he discovered that a form that could feel no pain, no despair would repel Dementors. And when the wizard finally understood this, as the Veela themselves were always full of positive emotions, he thus developed the Patronus Charm.

For a Veela of full blood, they are beings of sexual energy. And while being rejected would hurt them, they had a smaller ability to feel negative emotions than a human could. But even the partial Veela were granted the same weapons as the full-blooded brethren.

Smirking, Gabrielle summoned two fireballs in her hands, and launched them at the approaching Dementors. The creatures cried out in pain, as the balls of lust burned into their torturous forms, and killed them.

Hopping over to their forms, Gabrielle tilted her head a bit. The Dementors were dead, now slowly dissolving into piled of neon green slime—something she found oddly both disgusting and very cool at the same time. But their cloaks seemed to hang around.

Shrugging, she picked them up, her fingers tingling when she felt that they had absorbed part of the magical aura of their former hosts.

“Oh, Harry will love these,” she thought. Fleur had spoke of how the boy preferred to shun his celebrity status. Surely cloaks like these would help him.

With that, she resumed her skipping towards Privet Drive.

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“What does the Ministry have to say about Dementors in Little Whinging?” asked Sirius.

Kingsley Shacklebolt sighed. “Fudge is trying to sweep it under the rug, but this is one instance where Skeeter is being useful,” he said, holding up the latest Daily Prophet. “It appears that they are still trying to decide between rouge Dementors who escaped or a corrupt official who was planning on using Harry’s reports of Voldemont’s return to fuel their own propaganda and become a new threat to the Wizarding World.”

Remus snorted. “In other words, someone wanted to send them after Harry and shut him up.”

Shacklebolt nodded. “That’s my opinion. I’m still looking to see who may have had the ability to send two Dementors to do this, more at Fudge supporters than Voldemont’s. I think the Dark Lord wants Potter alive, and Dementors do not go out into the open like this in such a small number just to feed.”

“This is abominable, Albus!” bellowed Minerva McGonagall. “How can we protect Harry from the Ministry as well as Voldemont?”

“Rest assured, I will be adding to the wards around Harry’s home to prevent such things in the future.”

“Could have just kept the cub here for his safety,” grumbled Sirius. “Or perhaps nipped their little slander campaign in the bud by offering them Harry’s memories of Voldemont’s resurrection. Who knows, it may have even got them off my ass. How goes your plans for my being proved innocent, by the way?”

“Now is not the time for second guesses or other issues,” said Dumbledore, both to admonish the group for getting off topic, and to partially relieve his own sense of guilt for the moment. “Continue please, Alastor.”

The man snorted, before continuing. “We discovered that Potter’s family,” he said, spitting out the last word, “had been stunned before the boy was taken.”

“Stunned?” said Remus. “Death Eaters only stun to torture later. They were still there?”

Moody nodded. “Whoever did it appeared to only want Potter.”

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Gabrielle knocked on the door of Number Four Privet Drive, a smile on her face. She beloved was here, now of all places. Her sister hadn’t known much of the place, only what her Headmistress knew from her talks with the Hogwarts Gamekeeper. But from what she could tell ... this place sucked, and that was her upper-class opinion. How a person such as Harry Potter stood this place was beyond her understanding for the moment. Then again, it might be something she understood once she turned ten.

“What is it?” grumbled Vernon Dursley as he opened the door.

“Hello,” smiled Gabrielle, as she looked up. Her mother and grandmother always stressed that politeness was what civilized people used, not violence.

“I am looking for Harry Potter,” she said with utmost politeness.

“You’re one of those freaks, aren’t you,” he growled out quietly.

Gabrielle growled. Okay, so Fleur was right. So what? It just meant turning this piece of shit into a pile of cinders or slime—she’d rather think humans like this would end up forming slime like a Dementor after burning—was out of the question.

Luckily, France did not have such stupid underage magic laws as the English, but rather a great program to teach all those with potential. “Stupefy,” she said with a smile, as her magic lashed out from her wand and stunned Vernon.

Nodding her head that she had done the right thing, she stepped over the threshold of the home, before dragging the human by his feet after her, making sure she hit his head on the corners of the entrances between rooms.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” bellowed one woman, whose face reminded her of the less than beautiful horses at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. “Stupefy,” Gabrielle said calmly, pointing her wand at the horse-faced woman.

Sighing, she looked at the two unconscious adults. “Why are adults so troublesome?” she wondered, as she spotted the perfect place to put them.

Looking around the first floor and not sensing anyone else in the house, she spotted a small cupboard by the stairs in which she could store the bodies. “Oh my, I hope they’ll be okay in there,” she said. It would simply not do to have Harry upset at her that she killed his relatives.

Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it.

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“And they weren’t able to say anything about their attackers?” asked Arthur Weasley.

“Not much,” grumbled Tonks. “Just that they were ‘freaks like us’,” she said with obvious anger in her voice. “I’d love to peek in their minds to find out, but I don’t want to find anything that’ll make me want to kill them,” she finished with a growl more fitting of a certain werewolf, her hair turning dark red.

“Now Nymphadora,” said Dumbledore, “that is not the way to do things.”

“MY NAME IS TONKS!” she yelled back, barely holding back the curse she wished to send towards the Headmaster.

But Dumbledore pretended he hadn’t heard her. “Please continue, Alastor.”

“After the assailants put the Dursleys into the cupboard,” he said with a smile, remembering the stories of Harry having spent his early life there, “they waited until the children returned home, where they attacked the Dursley boy and placed him with his parents. What happened with Potter at this time is unknown; we only know that he arrived after the boy.”

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As soon as Harry entered his home at Privet drive, he noticed a small girl stuffing his cousin Dudley inside the very cupboard he had spent many a night sleeping in. “Um ... excuse me?”

She eeped, slamming the door shut on the entire Dursley line ... literally—as well as causing a sound to be released like the wood paneling was about to bust open. “Hello, Harry Potter,” she said, trying to curtsey and keep the door to the cupboard closed at the same time. It seemed the lock was just not able to handle the pressure it was now under.

“I know you,” he said casually, his hand slowly going for his wand. Expulsion be damned, he wasn’t going to be killed by a pre-teen.

She nodded happily, as she ran and wrapped her hands and arms around him, surprisingly faster than he had been able to try and bring his wand up. “Mama was worried, as was Big Sister that you would not know me,” she said with a smile and a perfect English accent.

He could only blink, staring down at the mop of combed silvery blond hair now nestled against his chest. Okay, so this was obviously not a Death Eater, doubtful it was someone Polyjuiced—he really didn’t want to imagine a Death Eater wanting to hug him like this.

Now, who did he know with hair that color?

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“They seemed to torture Harry a bit,” said Moody. “Scans revealed that his head was hitting a wall very hard for a while.”

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Die brain; DIE!

Needless to say, the first image had been a certain Slytherin, and thus put the unwanted image of said Slytherin hugging Harry like that. As such, Harry was not trying to cause some brain damage so he could hopefully lose the memory forever. The traitorous brain needed to be taught a lesson

“Please stop that!” yelled Gabrielle, wondering why he was slamming his head into the wall.

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“And no one saw anything odd?” bellowed Remus, glaring once again at Mundungus, and partial wishing he could just transform and tear into the man who allowed his friend’s son to be captured by some unknown force that had apparently tortured poor Harry.

“Alas, even Mrs. Figg detected nothing out of the ordinary,” said Dumbledore. “It would appear that whoever kidnapped Harry was able to do so without using any Dark Arts or have a Dark Mark on their bodies.”

“Then who took Harry?” yelled Molly.

“The brat probably joined some fan group,” grumbled Snape.

“Here that, Mooney,” said Sirius with a smile, “our dear cub may be off with some fan girls?”

Remus just smirked, understanding what Sirius was trying to do. “Perhaps a junior or ten from our little Prongs Junior will be making their way to the world in nine months?”

A muffled female voice was heard outside the doors, cursing to the heavens.

Arthur leaned back into his seat, resolving that if anyone asked, he would say Ginny had to have heard those words from Molly. All he knew was that when the meeting was over, he was going to be dragged along as Molly both yelled at the girl for saying those words, but banned her from joining a fan group.

“A whole classroom filled with Potters,” said Sirius with a smile, turning to Snape. “Won’t that be fun?”

“Enough!” yelled Moody. “This isn’t about Potter fathering dozens of children,” he said, hiding a smirk as he turned away from Snape. “We need to find the boy.”

“Could he have been taken somewhere?” asked Tonks.

“The Knight Bus didn’t pick anyone up in the area, only remember dropping off a polite little girl, but they never picked anyone up.”

“Do we know who the girl was?” asked Dumbledore.

“Tourist by how she acted,” Moody added.

“Are you honestly saying a little girl kidnapped Harry Potter?” said Tonks.

“One can never be too careful my dear,” said Dumbledore. “But I doubt it. Did she leave the area?”

“They heard her talk about visiting some Muggles,” the grizzled auror said. “They probably gave her a lift or she spent the night. Quite a few Wizards and Witches live in the area she was dropped off at, and asking some questions would arouse too much attention.”

“And the Knight Bus wasn’t used to cart Harry off?” asked Remus.

“No; neither was Harry apparted or was a port key used anywhere near the area,” grumbled Moody. “Unless a bloody house elf took him somewhere, I haven’t the foggiest how his captures got him out of there without using the Imperius Curse.”

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Harry looked on in somewhat awe over what was the second train station he had ever scene in his life. The Waterloo Station was a far cry from the King’s Cross station. And while he had been a bit worried that Gabrielle had taken him there by cab, he had to admit it would be nice to get away from things for a bit.

Well, she had insisted he go. He could still recall the tale she spun, something involving her grandmother wishing to know the boy who had made such an impression on her two granddaughters.

Well, that and the fact he was still upset about some of the things she told him were being said about him in the papers. After learning that, he wanted to get away for a while. Maybe with him gone, Voldemont would reveal himself, or maybe even Dumbledore would do something other than sit back and twiddle his thumbs. Hell, his friends weren’t even telling him anything. You’d think one of them would have mentioned the load inside the Daily Prophet.

He also made a mental note to both subscribe to it to keep better tabs on what wasn’t being said or done, and to see if Muggle Libel Laws applied to the Wizarding World as well.

So they had taken a cab, and now she was at the station, waiting for Fleur. It seemed the older Delacour sister had just gotten a job at Gringott’s. As such, she was going to use her last free weekend to visit her family before settling in to the usual grind as a bank employee. “Why are we taking a muggle train?” he asked Gabrielle.

She tilted her head a bit. “It gives us time to talk. Plus, who would think to look for you on one?” she asked.

He had to agree with her there. Aside from the Hogwarts Express, he doubted that a Death Eater or even his jailers would discover him here. Come to think of it, only Gabrielle had been using any magic, so there was no trail to lead to him. “Makes sense to me,” he said with a smile, causing the little Veela to giggle.

To anyone else looking, it would have been a cute scene. To the little Veela, this was the best date ever. Now, she just needed to quickly figure out how to explain that Fleur wasn’t going to arrive, since she had taken an earlier train, not knowing that her little sister was already in England.

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“We must assume then that he is somewhere still in England,” sighed Dumbledore. “But we should have our contacts in the Ministry keep close tabs on all detected International Apparting and Port Keys,” he added.

“Already done,” said Tonks. It was pretty hard to track any port keys or Apparting inside of Britain, due to simple volume. However, those that left the isle traveled in narrower corridors, corridors that rarely had the high traffic that prevented national tracking. And with Harry’s magical signature already recorded, as well as that of his wand, any magic, even accidental or that used to heal the injuries of a Wizard, would be immediately found. At that moment, a quick Apparting and they would be there to save the defenseless and kidnapped boy.

Molly began to wail. “We have to find him!” she cried. “Who knows what they’re doing to that poor child!”

Moody just grunted a bit. He knew all too well the techniques for torture used by Death Eaters and their type. And he felt no need to inform those ideas to the group. After all, what good would it serve to remind them that at this very moment, the boy was likely either undergoing or resting from recent torture?

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Harry sighed as he spun around once more.

“Magnificent,” smirked the shop keeper, looking at the newest set of clothes Harry was trying on.

It was bad enough she had paid for his ticket. It was bad enough that Fleur had missed them, and they had to take another train, a train in which she stayed glued to his side, chatting.

Well, that hadn’t been as bad. It was kind of nice she hadn’t asked about his scar, Voldemont, what happened to Cedric, or any other bad memories of his life. She had seemed interested in him for simply being him. Kind of a nice change.

But the bad part was that they had stopped off on their way to Delacour Manor to pick up some new clothes for Harry. Apparently Gabrielle’s grandmother knew of Harry’s lack of suitable muggle clothing, and gave them enough funds to buy some more. And while he did want to make a good first impression meeting this woman—who seemed to know quite a bit about him,--and the fact that wearing Dudley’s hand-me-downs would like diminish that, he still felt it was wrong, taking their charity when he didn’t need it. After all, he could get the funds he needed from his trust fund. He only had a few more years of school left, and he’d barely touched what was in the vault.

But she insisted they needed the new wardrobe now. They had even made a small cloak for Hedwig to wear—he still didn’t know how the hell Gabrielle had not only got a hold of his familiar, but kept the snowy owl calm enough to put the small little cape on.

Not like the owl’s ego needed anymore inflating. Now she was sitting on the top of a shelf, preening, looking like a princess observing her kingdom.

“Now we need to finally go over the boxers,” mumbled the shop keeper.

Sometimes having an entirely new language stuffed into your head thanks to a spell was not a good thing. Of course, it also made him question the intelligence once again of the Ministry people. He recalled a certain scene during the World Cup where such a spell should have been used. Needless to say, he lowered his guess of the collective IQ of the Fudge Administration.

Well that ... and there was something very disturbing about a nine-year-old girl helping the shop keeper with the choices of boxers he would be getting.

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“We will all need to do our best, stress and resources we have available to us, any contacts we know of; but we must find Harry Potter before his kidnappers lose their use for him,” said Dumbledore gravely.

“Are we certain the egomaniacal twit didn’t set this up?” grumbled Snape. It was bad enough he was going to have to probably tell the Dark Lord about this. But now it was likely some third group had arrived, and was going to cause even more trouble.

The glares he got reminded him all too well of his tenuous relationship among the Order.

“We’ll find him, Molly,” Arthur said, trying to comfort his wife. “Harry’s a tough lad; he’ll either escape or let us know where he is. Trust me; he’ll be back here before the week’s end!”

No one knew what had happened that day. It was a day that the brightest, the most powerful, the supposed best of the Light, as well as the undefeatable Harry Potter himself—a boy who had defeated the Dark time and again, were all defeated by a nine year old quarter Veela.

It would be a month before Fleur was inducted into the Order, and told them where Harry had been.

[Atlan]

Omake of an Omake:

We will all need to do our best, stress and resources we have available to us, any contacts we know of; but we must find Harry Potter before his kidnappers lose their use for him,” said Dumbledore gravely.

“Are we certain the egomaniacal twit didn’t set this up?” grumbled Snape. It was bad enough he was going to have to probably tell the Dark Lord about this. But now it was likely some third group had arrived, and was going to cause even more trouble.

The glares he got reminded him all too well of his tenuous relationship among the Order. From all but Sirius, at least.

"You know, I can see him doing that," The Animagus mused. "Running away from those bloody muggles, and having a good old relaxing holiday."

Remus smirked. "But he couldnt use his own name on a holiday- everyone in the world knows who he is. He'd probably use your name."

Sirius chuckled. "My godson, Mr Black. That does have a nice ring to it..."

Moody's upper lip twitched. "Spending his summer holidays traveling, finding rare and powerful magic, killing dozens of Death Eaters by accident."

Even Dumbledore got into the joke. "Then he'd come back, vanquish Voldement in an anti-cimatic battle, and live happily ever after."

There was a brief moment of silence, before the whole room burst out laughing, Sirius in particiular. "Well, not for another year or so, I think. But seriously, where is he?"


My little tribute to Rorschach's Blot's Make A Wish.

[Innortal]

LOL, I thank you for the omake, as long as Rorsh doesn't mind.

[TerraBull]

Some small typo's?

She beloved was here, now of all places.

Her beloved was here, now of all places.

and partial wishing he could just transform and tear into the man.

and partialy wishing he could just transform and tear into the man.

Nice.

[Dumbledork]

Here are some things I noticed

previous guard had apparted away => apparated

as the full-blooded brethren => sisters (Veela are always female)

dissolving into piled of => piles

Fleur had spoke of how => spoken

between rouge Dementors => rogue

She beloved was here => Her

she understood once => she'd understand

having spent his early life there => life in there

as Molly both yelled at the girl for saying those words, but banned her from => would both yell... but ban her

only remember dropping => remembered

neither was Harry apparted => apparated

haven’t the foggiest how => foggiest idea

how his captures got him => kidnappers

Harry looked on in somewhat awe => Harry gazed with an awed look on his face

he had ever scene => seen

mentioned the load inside => load of bull inside

before settling in to => into

International Apparting => Apparition

port keys or Apparting =>Apparition

a quick Apparting => Apparition

<<<<< about the scene with Molly wailing: it would have been nice to have her do a Helen Lovejoy impression and shout Helen's typical catchphrase "Will someone please think of the children?">>>>>>

the techniques for torture => the torture techniques

felt no need to inform those ideas to the group => this sounds rather strange

would like diminish => likely

the shop keeper => shop keeper

before his kidnappers lose their use for him => don't have any longer any use for him

relationship among the Order => realtionship with the rest of the Order

defeated the Dark time and again => again and again



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apparate#A ... apparition

[Innortal]

the shop keeper => shop keeper

You lost me on that one. The rest of the corrections have been made.

[Dumbledork]

My bad:

shop keeper => shopkeeper

[Ellen Kuhfeld]

Voldemont => Voldemort

[borgrabbit]

Fascinating!

Terra's comment:

and partial wishing he could just transform and tear into the man.

partly or partially

Dumbledork's comments:

mentioned the load inside => load of bull inside

Made sense to me, even without the bull.

International Apparting => Apparition

port keys or Apparting =>Apparition

a quick Apparting => Apparition

Apparating
Wes

[Dumbledork]

For Apparating and Apparition I checked on wikipedia.

[borgrabbit]

Dumbledork, you have me there. I guess, regarding disapparition and apparition. My other comments were largely a matter of preference with more than one way to be correct.
Wes

[Spokavriel]

I like the story but one thing I'm not sure about is how they found out about Harry's head getting hit repeatedly. It wasn't observed so how did anyone find out about it before Harry got back?

[Dumbledork]

I think Harry banged his head against the wall intentionally out of frustration. Maybe they found some blood or hair.

[Spokavriel]

I know and that tends to be in one spot. I could see someone taking that as a person being forcibly held to the wall I just don't see what could be found in the house that would have lead them to believe it was torture and repeated hits.

[Innortal]

Any suggestions on how it should be?