Time Astral | Sirius Black

14||The Runaway

December 23rd, 1995

When they'd gotten back from St. Mungo's, Harry was horror-stricken.

He remembered the exact words of Moody from where he'd been listening through extendable years while they conversed, Arthur, he, and Tonks.

'....The boy's seeing things from You-Know-Who's snake, obviously, the boy doesn't realise what it means...but if You-know-Who's possessing him – '

It was the worst thing he'd ever heard in his life. He'd felt dirty, contaminated, as though he were carrying some deadly germ.

I'm the weapon, Harry thought, and it was as though poison were pumping through his veins, chilling him, bringing him out in a sweat as he swayed with the train through the dark tunnel. I'm the one Voldemort's trying to use, that's why they've got guards around me everywhere I go, it's not for my protection, it's for other people's, only it's not working, they can't have someone on me all the time at Hogwarts. . . . I did attack Mr. Weasley last night, it was me, Voldemort made me do it and he could be inside me, listening to my thoughts right now. . . .

"Are you all right, Harry, dear?" whispered Mrs. Weasley, leaning across Ginny to speak to him as the train rattled along through its dark tunnel. "You don't look very well. Are you feeling sick?"

They were all watching him. He shook his head violently and stared up at an advertisement for home insurance.

"Are you sure you're alright, dear?" Mrs Weasley asked once again, when they were walking towards Number 12 Grimmauld place. "You can go sleep, you look pale."

He nodded in an instant, readily snatching an excuse to not converse after what he'd heard.

Here he began to pace up and down, past the two beds and Phineas Nigellus's empty portrait, his brain teeming and seething with questions and ever more dreadful ideas. . . .

A leaden sensation was settling in the pit of his stomach. He had no alternative: He was going to have to return to Privet Drive, cut himself off from other wizards entirely. . . or else he might harm them.

Well, if he had to do it, he thought, there was no point hanging around. Trying with all his might not to think how the Dursleys were going to react when they found him on their doorstep six months earlier than they had expected, he strode over to his trunk, slammed the lid shut and locked it, then glanced around automatically for Hedwig before remembering that she was still at Hogwarts — well, her cage would be one less thing to carry — he seized one end of his trunk and had dragged it halfway toward the door when a sneaky voice said, "Running away, are we?"

He looked around. Phineas Nigellus had appeared upon the canvas of his portrait and was leaning against the frame, watching Harry with an amused expression on his face.

"Not running away, no," said Harry shortly.

His hand was on the doorknob when Phineas Nigellus said lazily, "I have a message for you from Albus Dumbledore."

Harry spun around. "What is it?"

"Stay where you are."

"I haven't moved!" said Harry, his hand still upon the doorknob. "So what's the message?"

"I have just given it to you, dolt," said Phineas Nigellus smoothly. "Dumbledore says, 'Stay where you are.'"

"Why?" said Harry eagerly, dropping the end of his trunk. "Why does he want me to stay? What else did he say?"

"Nothing whatsoever," said Phineas Nigellus, raising a thin black eyebrow as though he found Harry impertinent.

Harry's temper rose to the surface like a snake rearing from long grass. He was exhausted, he was confused beyond measure, he had experienced terror, relief, and then terror again in the last twelve hours, and still Dumbledore did not want to talk to him!