HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS
1. The Escape
Harry slunk warily along the footpath, his head slightly bowed, eye’s darting up and down the street, glancing every now and then left and right. His right hand hovered over the pocket in his worn out faded jeans where his wand lay hidden, but within easy grasp. His fist was unconsciously clenching and unclenching. Most people would have found the misty cool night air soothing, pleasant, but Harry was on edge.
As he rounded the corner of Privet Drive, he stopped. His head turned to survey the street before him. There was nothing out of the ordinary, but he knew someone was there, somewhere, lurking in the darkest corners, or hidden by magic. He could feel their presence as sure as he knew he was standing there himself. He waited for someone to show. He never knew who it would be, but he could predict their appearance down to the last second. He stood for a moment, almost overwhelmed by his impatience. It had been the same every night ever since he had been at his Aunt and Uncles. And tonight, as before, a figure gradually emerged from the nothingness.
Harry was able to make out the features as it made it's way towards him. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt. After scanning the area as soon as he had seen Harry, Kingsley had removed his invisibility cloak and given Harry a quick nod in greeting. When they were within a few feet of each other, Harry spoke.
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