Hunting for Potions

By: Devil Reader

Fandom: harry potter

Summary: Harry has enough of being imprisoned with the Dursleys over the summers and with Voldemort back, he decides to have some fun and face a little danger. He goes to Africa to become a Hunter, people who find rare and dangerous magical potion ingredients. Idea borrowed from Rorschah's Blot's fan fiction 'Odd Ideas'.

Fic type: Books/Harry Potter

Pairings/Main char.: Harry P.

Published: 2012-07-30

Last updated: 2021-02-13

Words count: 18,731

Chapters count: 8

Converted using www.FF2EBOOK.com
Date: 2022-03-11

1. The Great Escape

Author's Notes:

I got the idea for this story from Rorschah's Blot's fan fiction Odd Ideas, especially from chapters 49 and 58. The first few chapters are going to be very similar to what he posted and then the later chapters will be my own creation expanding on his ideas. I'll accept any and all ideas people make in the reviews, so if you want to see something special happen, then I'll see what I can do. Grammatical corrections and pointing out plot holes are most appreciated.

Happy reading!

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Time of Divergence from the Books: Harry's summer in the fifth book, a few days before the Dementor attack in Surrey.

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As Harry munched through the Chinese food that Petunia had left outside of his room, he thought back to the Dursleys' new treatment of him. He would've had cooked dinner for them, but with the increased Auror protection and the subtle threats to at least provide Harry with three meals a day and a place for him to sleep, the Dursleys had started eating a mixture of takeouts and Petunia's cooking which was unfortunately inferior to Harry's prodigious cooking skills.

As Harry finished his dinner, he began cramming the leftovers into the takeout bag until he heard a crunch.

He frowned and reached in for a partially smashed Chinese fortune cookie. He peeled out the paper and read the phrase typed in it.

"A wise man once said that those who are willing to sacrifice freedom for security deserve neither freedom nor security."

Harry was reminded of Sirius, of the man who even broke out of Azkaban to be a free dog…er…man and to save Harry his godson. He was the only connection he had left to his parents other than Remus and Pettigrew didn't count. Maybe he should start emulating his godfather.

"Fine, Sirius. I'm leaving this waste dump of a home."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry crept out of Dudley's second bedroom with one of the large boy's old knapsacks over one shoulder. He was getting out of here for good.

Stepping past the sleeping guard taking an obviously unauthorized nap in the front yard, Harry was struck by a sudden idea and with an evil grin he grabbed the invisibility cloak and stuffed it into his pack. He knew where the guard was because of the suspiciously human-shaped patch of flattened grass. 'Siriusly', invisibility cloaks did not mean undetectable! Mad-eye probably would be yelling at…oh it was Mundungus Fletcher. Anyway it was always good to have a spare and while he'd have loved to stay behind to watch his . . . 'family's' reaction when they found a drunk sleeping it off on their doorstep, he had other things to do.

Quickening his pace, Harry hurried down the street and summoned the Knight Bus. How convenient that bus was. It was never late and very cheap too! Although it was best recommended to not look out the windows as most people will quickly get seasick, or was it bussick?

"Welcome to . . ."

"Are there any shopping districts aside from Diagon Alley and Knockturn?" Harry interrupted.

"Of course," Stan agreed. "What're you looking for?"

"Some place I can find a room and withdraw a bit of money from Gringotts," Harry replied.

"The old quarter at Cannon Street work for you?" Stan asked. "Looks a bit tarnished compared to Diagon but it's got everything you asked for."

"That'll be just fine," Harry agreed. Doing his best to hide his worry at being out of place as most kids didn't travel by the Knight Bus, Harry took his seat and waited for the ride to come to an end.

"Here we are," Stan said as the bus rolled to a stop. "Just walk toward the London Stone, push on the grill when no one is looking."

"Right," Harry agreed. "Thanks, Stan."

"All part of the service," Stan replied as he shut the door.

Harry got off the bus and after taking a look around, pushed the grill. The grate squeaked open and the stone moved aside to reveal a narrow doorway. On the other side was a new world, hopefully with better opportunities than he had ever got.

IIIIIIIIII

"Dung, hey Dung wake up. WAKE UP, DUNG!"

"Mwa?" The Order member groaned and grabbed his head to stop the pounding that the alcohol and the shrill female voice and blearily got to his feet. "What's up?"

"Where's your invisibility cloak?" Tonks demanded.

"Must have forgot it," Dung mumbled, "You here to relieve me?"

"Yeah," Tonks agreed. "Anything happen?"

"It's all been quiet," Dung replied. "Harry hasn't left his room since I got here . . . since anyone's got here."

"Another nice boring shift for me then," Tonks said with false cheer. "See you tomorrow."

"Later."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry wandered up the street feeling like he'd just entered the magical world. It was all different, nothing like Diagon Alley. The buildings seemed to be an odd mix of ancient and new. Eventually his attention was captured by a bulletin board, more specifically an advertisement offering top pay for Potions ingredients and Wand components. Harry grinned; it was a rare thing in his life to have a chance to seek adventure for the sake of adventure without the world hanging in the balance. He carefully memorized the address and walked up the street to find an awesome adventure.

What'd ya need kid?" A woman asked as Harry entered the building.

"The ad?"

"Forget it," she said immediately. "It's not worth doing if you're not already part of the business."

"Need to start somewhere," Harry replied.

"You sure you want to take on this job kid?" The dealer asked with a frown. "Harvesting Potions ingredients isn't a dangerous profession unless you want to make it pay and there are safer ways to make money."

"Well." Harry gave a boyish smile. "If I can't have a nice quiet life, then why not have a short merry one? Yes I'm sure."

"You do know that if you just wanted to commit suicide in a dramatic fashion, there are easier ways for that too." she sighed, "Alright kid, I tried. There's a pub up the street, you should be able to find one of the pro's drinking to their dead buddies there and if you're lucky they'll give you a few pointers before cutting you loose."

"Thanks."

"And don't partner up with anyone," she called after him. "Not unless you know them and trust them with your back. Better to go it alone then have a bad partner."

"Right," he agreed.

"Good luck," she said softly as he left. "And I hope I see you again."

Harry followed the woman's directions and found himself in a dingy pub. The only other patron was a man in khakis and a pith helmet.

"To Frank . . . you were a good friend, and better bait . . . you will be missed. To . . . uh . . . George . . . or maybe it was Stan?" He mused. "Whatever your name was, you'll be missed too . . . both of you. You were great bait, one might even go so far as to say that the two of you were master bait . . .ers."

"Excuse me," Harry said.

"What do ya need kid?" He slurred.

"Just needed a few pointers on how to break into the business of harvesting potions ingredients," Harry replied. "You got any?"

"Well." He seemed to consider the question. "Get quality gear, good gear can save your ass. Bad gear can end your life."

"What kind of gear?" Harry persisted. "What's the most important thing I need?"

"Most important thing huh?"

"Yes."

"It takes a platoon of wizards to stop a Nundu," the man said with a grin. "You know how many muggles it takes?"

"A hundred?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Just one," the man corrected. "Muggles are very good at causing death and destruction."

"But . . . magic . . .?"

"Is what does in most Wizards who try this business," the man said quickly. "If your only tool is a hammer then every problem looks like a nail. Only problem is that not every problem is a nail, you try a hammer and . . . well . . ."

"So what do you use?" Harry asked.

"Same thing muggles do," he replied. "A large caliber rifle. Put a bullet in the right place and you can stop just about anything."

"Where do I get something like that?"

"You can either buy all your kit new or you can walk down the street a bit and buy it almost new," he replied. "I'd go with the second."

"Almost new?"

"Used only a day or two," he laughed. "Just have to clean off the previous owner and you're set."

"Clean off . . ."

"Like I said," he said with a feral grin. "Only used a day or two. Average life expectancy is about three months, that's with some of the old timers tossed in to play with the odds a bit. In real life, you live that long and you've got a good chance of lasting longer. Most people last a bit less then a week, two on the outside."

"Where do I get kitted out?"

"Shop up the street with a red sign," he replied. "Can't miss it, s'where the heirs go to sell off their benefactor's old junk. Good deals to be had by all."

"Thanks."

"Where was I?" Harry heard the man mutter as he left. "Right, to . . . Phil . . ."

Harry followed the man's directions and soon found himself entering the aforementioned shop. "What can I do for you lad?"

"I need to get kitted out," Harry replied.

"You want used or new?"

"Slightly used," Harry said with a grin. "What do I need?"

"Everything," he said. "Most important thing is a good pair of boots though. That's not the sort of thing you can buy here, there's a boot maker up the street that can get you custom pair. No sense dieing if you have to do it with sore feet 'eh?"

"I guess."

"Clothes I can do, all double stitched. Get two pairs and you're set."

"What about a rifle?"

"Got three in stock right now," the shopkeeper replied. "A six hundred nitro double, a three seventy five Holland and Holland bolt, and a four sixteen Rigby bolt. What'd you prefer?"

"Uh . . ."

"Ammo will be hard to find for the nitro," he sighed. "And bolt action can also hold more rounds."

"Which one is better?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Depends on what you want to do," he replied. "The double rifle gives you a quick follow up shot, but a slow reload and cartridges will be hard to find. Three seventy five is a good general caliber and popular enough so that it'll be no problem to feed it, four sixteen is a bit heavy for a lot of things but it's also good. The bolt action rifles are both excellent quality, both Mauser actions which gives you the claw. Both have peep sights and both are take downs . . . means you can easily take it apart into two pieces to save space."

"What about the double?"

The double was hand made by William Jeffrey & co, just oozes quality don't it?

"Ok, I had almost no idea what you meant by all of that," Harry agreed. "So, I guess I'll take all of them."

"They won't come cheap," he cautioned. "Even used, you're talking a couple thousand Galleons. I don't like robbing dead men before they're even in their graves yet."

"That's fine," Harry agreed. "Just get everything together and I'll come back later."

"Right lad," the man agreed. "Just be sure you look through this before you go out?"

"A book?" Harry asked skeptically.

"On shot placement," he agreed. "It's the most important thing you need to know if you're going to go after dangerous game. To some extent it doesn't matter so much what you're shooting with so much as where you hit your target. This thing'll show you where to hit it and what to harvest. Also, you said you don't know anything about guns, so think of this as a favor to increase your chances of a longer life span."

"Oh . . . thanks," Harry said after a moment of thought.

"There are a couple others you should flip through but this is the most important, understand me? Even if you don't do anything else you need to look through this."

"I . . . ok," Harry agreed. "I will."

"Right then."

IIIIIIIIII

"Damn it," Tonks complained. "This job sucks." A flicker of movement caused her to look up at Harry's window. "And there's Hedwig, going out to hunt. Least he has his bloody owl up there with him, better then no company at all."

2. Dealing with Goblins

Harry approached the one and only teller in the Gringotts satellite branch. "What do you need?"

"I'm buying an outfit to go to Africa to harvest potions ingredients and . . ."

"Right," the goblin interrupted. "This is not a clothing shop, just hand over your key to your vaults and fill out your will while I'm getting your gold, be sure not to sign it until I'm here to witness it."

"Uh . . . I don't have a key to my family vaults. My guardian was very adamant about me not having a nearly unlimited amount of money to spend. Is there any way around him?" Harry questioned.

The goblin chuckled and spoke, "By the ancient laws when Gringotts was first founded, no can stop the Head of a Noble or Most Ancient House from accessing his family fortune, not even the age of majority laws. Only an older member of the family can put restrictions on the Head until his majority. Just put your signature and real name on this document to verify your identity."

Harry enthusiastically signed with a flourish. What hadn't he known he could have his money before? Oh right, meddling old headmaster of Hogwarts.

The goblin took the document out of his hand and walked away from the window. For lack of anything better to do, Harry began writing his will after the goblin had left.

"Hmm, divide my money among Hermione, the Weaslys, Fleur, Victor, and anybody else who didn't hate me on sight except for my rabid fans, donate all of the artifacts in the Potter vaults to charities if nobody I mentioned above wants them, and the rest of the money…oh…into a bounty on Voldemort's and Snape's head. Heh, heh, heh…"

"Here," the goblin returned and flung a bag of Galleons at Harry. "You finished your will yet?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"Let me see it…You should be honest with deciding what you want done with your personal effects, since 42% of all tourists who go to magical Africa tend to die a nasty death and the most of the rest get some crippling injury if they're lucky. You don't want to know what happens to the unlucky ones who don't die." the goblin recommended.

"Uh . . . actually I'm going there to get a job gathering Potions ingredients," Harry corrected the surly goblin.

The goblin stared at Harry, "Then your survival rate just sank down to 25%, but at your age, it really should be at 10%."

He grinned, "Looks like I have a sure-fire way for some money tonight!"

Harry frowned, "What do I have to do with you earning some money?"

"It's a little known secret, but goblins love to calculate odds and gamble against each other. We settle many matters this way through the code of honor and luck. It actually helped to avoid several goblin wars." He confidently shared with a chuckle, "I wouldn't be sharing this with many wizards, but since you're earning me a nice piece of loose change for me tonight at the expense of your life, I figured you should know."

Harry stared at the goblin and realized that this was a prime opportunity to farther ensure his freedom. After all, information was power; you only had to look to Hermione to see that.

Harry thoughtfully asked, "Would you be willing to accept a bet with me? I'll give you the entire Potter fortune if I don't return before September first since I'd be dead otherwise, and you give me information on all of the Death-eaters' and members of the Order of the Phoenix's finances."

"I-I'll have to take this to the head of this Gringotts branch." The goblin stammered in surprise at the possible wealth that his bank stood to acquire.

Harry soon faced the head of the bank in a fancy office. Surprisingly, the leader of the bank was a female goblin.

"Mr. Potter, you may call me Elvaellisin. Now you do realize that to share our…customers' confidential information is considered base treachery among goblin kind?"

"I do, you wish for me to sign a magically binding contract to be quiet. I'd also continue doing all of my business deals solely with your reputable bank."

"Yeeees, I'm glad you can see things from our perspective. This will elevate our status as compared to the other goblin clans."

"Other clans?"

"Typical wizard, you don't even know that each bank is represented by a separate goblin clan?"

"Eeeeeh, no."

"I'm just telling you this now Potter, since you may become a valuable partner to us if you survive Africa and win our deal. Learn about the other magical sentient races. It will save your life one day."

"Okay…" Harry meekly responded.

"Anyway you will have to bring back proof of your stay in Africa and since you said you were going to be a Hunter, you will bring back the skin of a lethifold and the head of a Nundu as proof. You will have to look them up if you don't know what they are."

"Now sign the contract and your will for later." Harry did with a flourish after reading it over carefully. "If there isn't anything else, then Ragbolock will show you out."

"Goodbye," Harry said politely. He grabbed the bag and walked down the street to the boot maker.

"What can I do for you?" The cobbler asked.

"I need a good pair of boots," Harry replied. "Suitable for Africa."

"Right away sir," he agreed. "I don't suppose . . ."

"No, I've made up my mind."

"What quality do you want?"

"The very best," Harry answered immediately.

"Let me take a few measurements then," he said. "Ok, I'll have them done in no time. I suggest you make your purchases and get your portkey, get everything done you can before returning."

"Thanks."

Harry left the Cobbler's shop and walked up the street to buy a portkey that would take him one step closer to the wilds of Africa. "Here for a new pair of specs?" An old woman asked as Harry walked into the shop.

"Hoping to get a portkey," Harry replied.

"Wrong shop," she said with a smile. "You want the one next door. But you may as well come in, from the way you've been squinting I'd say that there's something wrong with the glasses you're using."

"I guess I could use a new pair of glasses," Harry admitted with a frown. "What do you have?"

"What do you do?" She asked. "Different professions require different things."

"I'm going to Africa," Harry said with a grin. "And planning to return."

"Oh," she said dully. The old woman seemed to deflate. "I understand how exciting it seems but you do understand the risks don't you?"

"I've got a very good understanding of the risks, they don't bother me. I've had my share of danger before. You might say that 'Danger' is my middle name," he finished dryly.

"Then can I suggest these," she laid a pair of mountaineering sunglasses on the table. "They'll adjust their tint to compensate for the ambient light, they'll gather more light when it gets dark, and they'll expand your peripheral vision. Just a little something that might come in handy if you persist in your foolish plan."

"Thank you." Harry paid for his purchase and tried them on. "They work great."

"Goodbye kid," she said sadly.

"Bye," Harry called over his shoulder as he walked out to procure his portkey. Harry walked into the shop and tried to introduce himself, "Hello I'm . . ."

"No names," the grizzled man behind the counter snapped. "Makes things easier al'round, you want a portkey to the Lunatic line don't you?"

"I'm trying to get to Africa," Harry replied.

"That'll do then," the man said gruffly. "Won't be more then a day or two wait, should be less den dat if'n you hurry."

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me lad, not till you're on your way back."

IIIIIIIIII

"Ah Nymphadora," Dumbledore said with a smile. "How did your shift go?"

"Boring as hell," Tonks replied honestly. "Only thing that happened all night was Harry letting his owl out to hunt."

"His owl hmmm?" Dumbledore asked with a smile. "Thank you Nymphadora."

"If that's all I need to get home to catch a few hours of sleep," Tonks muttered. "These triple shifts are killing me."

"We all must make sacrifices for the greater good," Dumbledore replied.

"And speaking of sacrifices, I'm afraid that owl can't stay with Harry." Dumbledore muttered to himself. "She's much too noticeable, I'm sure Harry will understand. It's just for the summer after all; she'll be waiting in the school's owlery for him when he returns to Hogwarts."

IIIIIIIIII

"You ever used a rifle before kid?"

"Never even touched one," Harry admitted.

"Well . . . these two'll be easy to learn on . . . well, compared to the nitro rifle anyway," the shopkeeper said after a moment of thought. "First let's get the stocks adjusted to you."

"Stocks?"

"The wooden parts," he sighed. "If they're adjusted to your body they'll be easier to use."

"Oh."

"They're both fitted with magical holographic sights but I'd advise you to learn to use the iron sights, there are weird times and places in Africa where the magic will stop working without warning. Best to know what you're doing when that happens."

"Why's the front part white?"

"The front bead is made out of warthog ivory, won't tarnish like elephant and its nice and visible after it gets dark." What followed was a quick but detailed lesson on how to aim, fire, and maintain the rifles that Harry had just bought. "Well, that's all I can do. Good luck lad."

"Thank you," Harry said politely. "If I don't see you again, well . . . it's been fun."

"Likewise kid," the shopkeeper sighed.

"One stop before I go," Harry sighed. "This is it."

The cobbler looked up when Harry entered. "Good timing, just got these things finished."

"Great," Harry said. "I was hoping to get started soon." Harry slipped off Dudley's old cast off sneakers and slipped into the most comfortable pair of boots he'd ever had.

"You're going to want to break these in before you go into the bush," the cobbler advised. "These are made to fit your feet but they still need a bit of time before they'll be perfect."

"They feel perfect right now," Harry groaned. "I've got to get another pair of these when I get back." With those parting words, Harry activated his portkey and disappeared.

IIIIIIIIII

"There," Dumbledore said with a satisfied smile as he secured Hedwig in one of the larger cages. "Now, to inform Harry." He wrote out a quick note and handed it to one of the school owls. "Just drop it on his bed, no need to wait for a reply."

The owl hooted in agreement and took off to deliver Dumbledore's message.

Dumbledore turned to glare at Hedwig with his eyes missing its usual twinkle. "Now, now, I expected you to be reasonable about this. You must realize that you are too noticeable and Harry could be in danger of the Death Eaters following you back to his house. And more importantly, you didn't need to scratch my hands up so badly!"

Hedwig gave him an equally intimidating glare back. She was offended that he would think so lowly of her skills as a Post Owl. Her white feathers were a mark of pride of how well she could stay unnoticed. Also, how dare he keep her away from her master and more importantly his ever-lasting supply of tasty bacon!

"Don't think that you will be leaving before the summer is out, there is no escape from Loft cage thirteen . . . no one has ever escaped the Iron Headmaster!"

Let him go on thinking that, for he will pay, oh yes he will.

After Dumbledore left, the snowy owl turned her head three hundred and sixty degrees to make sure the coast was clear before jumping down to the floor of her cage and scratching it with her claws. She would have her vacation and she would enjoy it!

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Author's Notes:

I decided to try a different take on the Gringotts goblins and instead of their usual fanatical devotion to honor, I thought it might be interesting to see what they'd be like if they also had a penchant for gambling. They have the best scowling poker faces. The female goblin was just because I never have ever read about any female goblins in the cannon series and in any other fan fiction. Don't worry, we will read about Elvaellisin again and Harry finally goes to Africa in the next chapter.

Oh by the way, PLEASE REVIEW! I've had 112 people look at the first chapter and 11 people add it to their alerts which flattered me. But only one person even reviewed, thanks brighteyes343! Review, they cost nothing. I'd still write, but they encourage me to write faster.

Happy reading!

3. The Birth of the Legend of Snakebite

"Sssssss..." - Parseltongue speech

...

The portkey dropped Harry off on a train platform next to what looked a lot like a worn out and rusted version of the Hogwarts Express.

"Pardon me," Harry asked the conductor, "But how much is it to go to Africa?"

"It's two Sickles and one Knut," the conductor replied.

"Ok then," Harry agreed. "Here. By the way, since this train goes to Africa, is there any advice you can give me for Africa?"

The tall conductor laughed, "Do you know how few people go to Africa without being the slightest bit prepared? Most of them are fools who go to see Africa and they don't tend to return or at the very least, missing a few pieces. I sometimes ask them for their money seeing as how they won't need it anymore. Most people get rather green around the gills at that part. You can do yourself some good by buying sun block and go to the bookstore down the platform. Tell them Stan sent you."

"Are you related to Stan from the Knight Bus by any chance?"

"Yeah, our mother named all of her kids Stan. It made for a confusing childhood let me tell you. Anyway there's a third Stan, I think he does a safe safari tour somewhere in Africa. His tour has the lowest rate of casualties and only one person died on his tours."

"Thanks!"

"Pleasure meeting you." Stan said with a grin.

Harry rushed down the platform to see that there was indeed a bookstore. It was rather small and would have been easily overlooked.

The sleepy woman at the register asked, "What do you need, sir?"

"I'll need some information on the dangers of Africa please. Oh and Stan said to tell you that he sent me."

"One Galleon and Knut for the four books and sun block you'll need."

"Here you go."

"Oh and no refunds. The last guy who did that gave me the books back all ripped up. I still don't get how they got so damaged in two minutes out of the store. If I ever see him again, why I oughta strangle him and then…"

Harry quickly left the store to leave the woman ranting herself.

"You're sure about coming?" Stan asked. "A week before we're back here so make up your mind quickly."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I guess especially since I got the books."

"New at the game then?"

"Does it show that much?"

"Like it's written on your face," Stan chuckled. "Best advice I could give you is to turn back and forget about all this nonsense. But you don't look like you were going to follow that."

"What about the second best?"

"Find a good tracker and a good skinner," the conductor replied quickly. "And make out your will before you go into the bush. Keeps everything nice and tidy."

"Why a train?" Harry asked after he'd bought his ticket. "Why didn't the portkey take me further in?"

"Has to do with the limits of the magic," Stan explained. "It took you to the station where the train was and it would have taken you to one of the next three stations if we were there. Further then that and you're past the effective range that a portkey can travel into magical Africa. Funny enough, the same thing affects non-magical Africa."

"Oh."

"Lots of other things a train can do better then a portkey too," he continued. "Like carry cargo. We make a six day circuit from the coast to the heart of Africa and back. Taking bulk cargo in and all sorts of things back out. It's a rich land lad," he said with a grin. "Place where a man can make his fortune if he keeps his wits. Gold, diamonds, and a hundred different ingredients for potions. They're all waiting for someone to pick them up and bring them out."

"Gold? Diamonds?" Harry asked with a gleam of greed in his eyes. Diamonds may be a girl's best friends, but the other gender was willing to be friends too.

"Be sure to buy an automatic pan," the conductor advised. "Just drop it off on the side of a stream and check it in the morning."

"Automatic pan?"

"A gold pan that's charmed a bit," he laughed. "It'll sift through the gravel and collect any precious stones and metals. Probably won't get anything, but you never know."

"Thanks," Harry said as the conductor walked off to continue his rounds. With a sigh of disgust, he reached into his new rucksack and pulled out one of the books he'd purchased. "Well . . . nothing to do but study I guess, 'The Art of Travel' by Francis Galton huh? Well, I guess this is as good a place to start as any."

Over the next couple days, Harry passed the time by flipping through his books and memorizing everything that seemed to be important . . . and a good deal of what seemed on the surface to be useless information. As Stan had cautioned, the only kind of useless information in the bush was the kind you didn't have. Who knew when the mating habits of a toffee nosed honey badger might come in handy, it could save his life one day. The books on travel and camping, dangerous beasts, important potion ingredients to gather and strangely enough, strategy were at least interesting.

IIIIIIIIII

"What is it Molly?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"Professor . . ." Molly began with a worried frown. "It's Harry, I know you told us not to write but I sent him a care package and Pig . . . Ron's owl, returned with it."

"Not to worry Molly," Dumbledore said in what he privately termed his 'all knowing' voice. "I'm sure young Harry just needs a bit of time to himself. They all go through an independent stage at his age and after what happened in the Cemetery after the TriWizarding Tournament, it's not surprising that he needs a bit of time to himself. Pass the word on to Ron and Hermione not to try contacting Harry until further notice."

"I . . . yes Headmaster," Molly agreed reluctantly.

"Now let's leave for our Order meeting at Grimmauld Place."

Hedwig coughed up another owl pellet and glared at the lock on the cage in disgust. There she was the whole room to herself and the summer off and she gets thrown into the clink. Not this owl, she was going to escape and she was going to enjoy her time off. But alas, the cage was self-repairing! Suddenly she had an idea thanks to her seeing Molly earlier. It disgusted her, but she had no other choice.

IIIIIIIIII

After a few days, the train rolled to a stop in the middle of a muddy collection of tin roofed shacks. "Last stop," Stan called out. "Less you've grown some sense and want to book passage back to the coast?"

"This place looks just fine," Harry said with a grin. "Thanks for all the help, I enjoyed the conversations we had."

"Do yourself a favor and make your first stop the bar," Stan sighed. If he couldn't stop the young fool then maybe he could help him.

"I don't drink."

"Best place to get a bit of information, doesn't matter if you drink or not."

"Oh . . . thanks."

"Don't mention it kid, good bye and good luck."

"Better good then lucky," Harry called over his shoulder. "Luck runs out."

"That it does lad," he agreed under his breath. "That it does.

Harry couldn't miss the saloon; it was the largest of the four buildings in town and the only one that had a sign. He pushed through the bat wing doors and made the last step that took him from a normal life and sent him into a life of adventure.

"TO PETE," one of the men at the bar said loudly. "Another good man killed by the dead, he really should have known better."

"TO PETE," the rest of the bar chorused.

"Killed by the dead?" Harry muttered.

"It's the dead ones that'll kill you lad," one of the men explained. "Bullets are cheap enough to use an extra to make sure."

"You shoot something it goes down," another man took pity on Harry to explain farther. "You think it's dead and you get to work, it wakes up in a bad mood and that's all Pete wrote in his diary when we found his campsite with a lot of blood stains. Same as the way empty guns kill more people then the loaded ones. Understand?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I understand."

"Good, just roll into town?"

"With the last train."

"Be sure to sign the guest book then," he said with a grin. "So we know who to toast when it's your turn."

"Uh." Harry eyed the book for a few seconds.

"Don't want to put down your real name?" The bartender asked sympathetically. "Don't worry, just put whatever you like then. Magic'll know the truth; the ink turns black when you die to let us know to toast you. Better then most funerals in my opinion." Harry looked at the book for a few moments before it came to him. "H. Evans?" The man asked. "You think you're going to heaven when you die or something?"

"Close enough," Harry agreed. "You know where I can hire a good tracker or find an automatic pan?"

"Usually a couple hanging around the general store, that's the third building on the left. Second is the chapel/morgue, they're the best when it comes to scraping up what's left after the bush has had it's way with a man and making it presentable enough to have a closed casket funeral."

"And the first?"

"You might call that one a hotel," he said with a grin. "But only if you want rooms by the hour. Want something a bit longer term then I've got a couple up stairs. I also got an auto pan for three Galleons."

"Hey! He's lyin'. They real'y cost one Galle'n." One of the drunks slurred.

The bartender glared at the drunk, "He's likely to die, I figured I may as well make a profit, before the money goes to waste!"

"That's ok, I'll treat my crew to a drink when I get back." Harry replied while flipping a Galleon to the bartender for the pan. "I also don't need a room, I'd really rather get into the bush as soon as possible."

"Good luck then lad and don't forget to enjoy yourself."

"I won't," Harry assured him.

IIIIIIIIII

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth as he watched a small device spin so fast that it began to melt from the friction.

"I wonder what that means?" He mused to himself. "I'm sure it's not important."

IIIIIIIIII

"Anyone here a good tracker?" Harry asked as he stepped into the store.

"I da best traka in the bush baas," a man replied.

"You're hired," Harry said after no one came forward to contest the man's claim. "See if you can round up a couple of skinners and porters."

"Yes baas."

"You need anything from me?" The east Indian behind the counter asked with a neutral look on his face.

"You stock six hundred nitro express cartridges?"

"No."

"Start," Harry advised. "I'll take a box of three seventy five and another of four sixteen."

"Anything else?"

"Half dozen cans of peaches," Harry said after a moment of thought. "And some vials for any liquids I may need to save as ingredients."

"Care for a bit of advice?"

"Hmmm?"

"Buy a few pounds of tobacco, your men will expect it as part of their pay."

"Fine," Harry agreed. "Toss in anything else you think I might need . . . and be prepared to explain exactly why I need it in excruciating detail."

IIIIIIIIII

Hedwig was frantically thinking of a better plan when she saw the owl she despised most in the world, Pig the Pest as he was known throughout the Hogwarts Owlery. She noticed he was carrying a letter and the writing on the outside was in the scrawl of that red-headed Human Dustbin (she had seen his eating habits) and it was addressed to the Goat Man.

As Pig approached she switched off the part of her brain that wanted to be sick at the sight of him and hooted softly, distracting Pig from his mission.

With a few soft hoots she informed Pig of where there were some particularly fat juicy insect larvae and offered the location for his help out of the cage. Pig being as big a food fanatic as Ron quickly agreed and dropped the letter from Ron. This action did nothing to enhance her opinion of him; no owl worth their flight feathers would give up a letter for the sake of food.

As Pig began to assist her in pecking at the lock of her cage, she congratulated herself on her cunning.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry had his men set up camp on a water hole a few miles outside the small town and motioned for his tracker to join him.

"Wat's up baas?"

"We're just going to have a look around to know get to know the territory better," Harry explained. "Nothing big for now."

"Right baas," the man agreed.

"Let's go," Harry said. "Tell me if you see any tracks."

"Sho ting baas."

Harry followed the man about three kilometers in a large spiral before either of them noticed anything of interest.

"Step back a bit," Harry ordered. "There's a snake up ahead."

"You do'wanna go near dat snake baas," the tracker advised. "Black Mamba, bad news."

"I'll be fine," Harry said over his shoulder. "Now then," he hissed. "I'm wondering if you can help me?" By way of reply, the snake lunged and buried its fangs in Harry's outstretched hand." You wanna play it like that?" Harry asked. "Ok, we can play it like that."

The tracker just turned in disgust, one bloody day and he already had to find a new job. He walked off ignoring the mutterings of the dead man behind him, no sense waiting around to watch the end when he could be in town hustling work.

"Hey where are you going? TRAITOR!"

IIIIIIIIII

Alerted by some strange survival instinct, Hedwig hopped off the floor of the cage and back onto her perch just before Dumbledore entered. Pig had mysteriously vanished. She didn't think he could move that fast when food wasn't in front of him.

"What are you doing?" Dumbledore demanded. "You aren't trying to escape are you? There is no escape from Loft cage thirteen . . . no one has ever escaped the Iron Headmaster!"

"The Iron Headmaster?" A voice filled with mirth asked. "Have you been drinking Albus?"

"It's just . . . Minerva, did you have those end of year reports ready yet?"

"I've still got three weeks before they're due . . . Iron Headmaster."

"Yes . . . well . . . carry on then."

IIIIIIIIII

"New guy . . . Evans? Well, his tracker just came in. Said he was bitten by a ten step."

"Shame about that, didn't even last a day in the bush."

"His name hasn't turned black yet," the bartender interjected. "Think you might be a bit premature?"

Harry walked in with an annoyed expression on his face. "Any of you know where I can hire a new tracker?" He growled. "One who won't run away screaming from a little snake?"

"AHHHHHH! GHOST!" The Harry's tracker shrieked like a little girl and ran out of the bar's second emergency exit for those ducking out of a shooting. The first emergency exit was boarded up from the fire last week.

"He said you got bit mate," one of the men laughed.

"I did," Harry agreed. "By this thing, book says it's fangs are worth a pretty penny and that the rest of it doesn't go cheap either."

"That thing bit you?" One of the men gasped. "And you survived?"

"This lil thing?" Harry asked with a grin. "Maybe I'll tell you what it's like to get bitten by a big snake sometime. Anyway I drained it's venom out of my blood with this nifty healing spell and took revenge. Burp! It tasted delicious. Now, about finding another tracker?"

"Village three days walk north of here is supposed to have some good ones for hire," the bartender said with a yawn. As a bartender, it was against union regulation to show any hint of surprise about anything. "You want me to pass the snake along to a dealer for you?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Figure the money is an advance on my tab."

"Sure thing."

"You know what this means?" One of the men asked after Harry had left.

"That it looks like the new guy is going to live long enough to get a nickname?"

"No that I've just thought of the perfect nickname," his friend corrected. "To Snakebite, meanest bastard to arrive in the last week or so."

"To Snakebite," his friend agreed. "So long as you've got this round."

AN:

A bit longer than I planned, but I did promise to show Harry's first foray into Africa. After this chapter, it should be more my own writing than Rorschach's Blot, because by this point he didn't write much farther than Harry's first trip into Africa. I hope to be able to keep up the same quality of humor as he did. I should be updating in a few hours or by tomorrow. I also intend to keep this story going for until Harry's seventh year. I'm trying to write each chapter with a minimum of 2 thousand words. I'm also setting up a poll to see if you want Harry to go back to Hogwarts or to transfer to Beauxbatons. I may choose based on how I feel rather than how the voting goes. Harry staying in Africa is not an option, although he will return to Africa. As always…

REVIEW!

4. A Crew is Only Good for Bait

"You need what?" Fred asked dully.

"A name plate that says 'Iron Headmaster' and make it tasteful," Minerva said. "I'll also need it to be indestructible and be charmed to return to a set location . . . be sure to use top quality spellwork, I don't want it to be broken easily."

"That'll be expensive," George demurred. "But why don't you just tell us the effect you want and we'll see if we can't give you the same effect for less work."

"We are professionals Professor," Fred said with a smug grin. "Trust us."

"I'd like to put it on the Headmaster's desk," Minerva said hesitantly. "And I'd like it to stay there."

"We can't do spellwork on something good enough so that the Headmaster won't be able to change it," George said reluctantly.

"Maybe if we got Bill's help," Fred mused.

"So you can't do it," Minerva sighed.

"We never said that," George said slyly.

"Then how?"

"If you can't out spell them-"

"- out think them!"

"Don't worry Professor-"

"- we've got you covered." They said with identical grins that sent shivers up the spines of every single teacher in Hogwarts, including the one Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

IIIIIIIIII

Harry returned to the bar five days later after his second trip out with a couple new scars and a sour disposition. "Scotch, single malt with a splash of water."

"Ow'd it go?" The bartender asked.

"Terrible," Harry groaned. "I got to the village and hired a tracker no problem."

"And then?"

"Then he starts moaning about how it'd be nice to get some meat so I says to myself, better to see if he knows his stuff now then when I'm ten days into the bush. Sides, the bugger had a point and extra biltong never hurt anyone."

"Sensible."

"So we go out and right off my new man spots a track, spent four hours following it and another two on the stalk."

"Nothing?"

"Nah, good sized Dagga Boy. So I put one into his shoulder, honesty compels me to admit that I flubbed the shot. It was fatal but not right away if you catch my drift."

"Charged?"

"Drooled blood on my boots," Harry laughed. "So I turn to my tracker . . . then I figure, maybe he was on my left and I turn to my left . . ."

"Ran off did he?"

"And left me to deal with everything on my own," Harry agreed. "So I head back to the village to hire the third new tracker in the same day and I picked one up easy. Not as good as my first but I had high hopes . . ." Harry trailed off.

"Didn't work out then?"

"Just don't understand why everyone's so bloody frightened of snakes," Harry sighed. "So I go back to try to hire a fourth tracker . . . nothing, go on to the next village . . . nothing. To hear these guys tell it, none of them know the difference between a train track and a Ndlovo. Porters I can find, as many as I want. Cooks, skinners, sure. But to listen to these guys, not a tracker to be found."

"Gonna giv up th'show then?"

"Nah," Harry laughed. "Just gonna give up on the trackers. They're impossible to find and flighty besides."

"So what're ya'gonna do?"

"You know where I can find a blacksmith?" Harry asked with a cheeky grin.

IIIIIIIIII

"Hmm, I wonder about that odd spine-tingling shiver I felt the other day. I better check on Hedwig. I suspect that she takes after her owner, Harry's ability to cause chaos and destruction." Dumbledore muttered as he entered his office to see Hedwig working on the lock of her cage as Pig was taking a break from his hard work to eat his dearly won (in his opinion) insect larvae.

"What's going on here? YOU, return to Ron and don't ever come here or I will feed you to the moat monsters."

"Hoot?"

"Yes, yes, I know that Hogwarts doesn't have a moat. But, I can use you as an excuse to make one, and there are always the lake monsters."

"H-hoot…" Pig quietly…er…hooted and flew out to return to the Burrow hoping for a treat.

"Now I better fix the cage and get you a better companion to keep you company," Dumbledore glared at Hedwig.

Hedwig barked in frustration, "Prick." making a clearly insulting remark to Dumbledore.

She was so close, if it wasn't for Pig claiming a break from his eating break to digest his food; she could've broken through the lock before the cage could fix itself fast enough.

"Here we are," Dumbledore returned with a satisfied smile. "Hedwig, I'd like you to meet my owl . . . Schultz."

The owl in question opened one eye and gave a weak 'hoot.' The fact that Dumbledore normally used his phoenix or one of the school owls to deliver his mail made Schultz the fattest owl in the owlery.

"Why don't I just leave things in your capable . . . uh . . . feathers," Dumbledore suggested.

"Bark?" Hedwig gave the other owl a questioning look.

"Hoot," Schultz replied. The owl closed his eyes, turned around, and stuck his head under his wing as if to indicate that he saw nothing, heard nothing, and above all knew nothing. No way was he going to stop having his nice quiet night just because some bearded fool wanted him to do something.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry bought a horseshoe nail from the village blacksmith and set to work. The spell work wasn't that difficult, theoretically well within Harry's abilities. After a few minutes of thinking and several hours of trial and error, Harry had what he needed. Tired of unreliable trackers who ran in terror from the slightest difficulty such as a rampaging Nundu, or something as harmless as a black mamba. Harry set about finding a way to avoid having anything to do with such fragile people, and since he didn't have twenty spare years to learn how to be a competent tracker . . .

"Point me to the nearest source of water," Harry said. He gave a satisfied grin as the nail spun on his palm until it was pointed at the village well. "Point me to the trading post . . . point me to the nearest bongo . . . the nearest dik dik." Satisfied that everything seemed to be in order, Harry got up and returned to his camp.

"We gonna do more hunting today baas?" One of the skinners asked.

"Maybe for a bit of camp meat," Harry said. "Point me to the nearest source of meat."

It swung around and pointed toward a tree… or rather a bird up on the top of the tree.

"Er…the nearest meat on the ground."

It levitated up and pointed straight down.

Harry looked at the ground and went "Huh? Oh well I'll try digging."

After a few inches, he found some spoiled meat buried the night before.

Gagging, he gasped while rapidly covering the meat, "No, no, no! The nearest source of edible meat that I can catch that's still alive."

It pointed to the single pack mule that the hunting crew brought with them ignoring the squirrel closer to Harry. The nail obviously thought very little of Harry's hunting abilities.

"Grrrr, meat that's edible, still alive, and can be caught by my crew."

Then the nail pointed, rather deadly, at the cook standing behind Harry who gulped uneasily.

"Hmm, tempting thought, but no human meat please." Harry murmured with an evaluating gleam at the cook who inched away worriedly.

The nail finally pointed in a direction that led to a wild rabbit that was immediately caught and skinned for its ability to fill a pan over a fire and to fill the men's bellies.

"How are we doing on leftover meat for tomorrow," he directed his question to the cook.

"W-we're good for now baas," The cook replied frantically, while resolving to start joining the hunting crew so he wouldn't be used as dinner if they ever ran out of meat.

"Then I guess I'm not going out again," Harry replied. "Have a good night."

IIIIIIIIII

"Alright men, now I know we've had some problems, such as half of my crew here running off in fear every single, freaking TIME we see a tiny, weensy, little snake!" Harry growled in frustration.

"This will be the first time that we get anywhere without our trackers running off in fear such I'd made a good substitute."

Privately the rest of the crew thought that Snakebite was quite mad to go so near to the snakes and that the trackers had the right idea. The trackers knew just how dangerous the snakes really were after all

"Anyway, I just realized that we are missing just one thing before we start our search for riches," Harry proclaimed.

The crew wondered just what more did they need? They were already one of the most prepared and complete crew in history, or the last month of crews leaving on trips, thanks to their leader's supply of money for funding and his newly-earned reputation bring many volunteers, except for trackers. They had people such as skinners, cooks, packers, and everyone else one could think of for a trip into the depths of Africa and couple more people otherwise (trackers didn't count according to Snakebite). In Harry's opinion, if you had ravenous animals after you, you followed the philosophy 'the more, the merrier' and they made great bait, not that they knew it…yet.

"What's that baas?" One man asked.

"Umm…I-I forgot to decide on something to look for." Harry stammered in embarrassment.

Sounds of audible smacks to the faces of the crew could be heard throughout the clearing.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry narrowed his brilliant-green eyes to stare at the unsuspecting animal that was ignorant of its fate. He sssssllllloooowwwwllllyyyy inched closer to the animal that he nicknamed dinner in his head. Suddenly he sprang into the air screaming "FOOOD!"

He got the wild cat-like creature…eventually with many scratches and scrapes from it trying to escape his grasp.

"Uh, baas?"

"What?"

"You do know that's not dinner right?"

"Huh?"

"We're bringing it back to his owner for the reward money, remember?"

"Oh, I assumed that it was dinner considering that it escaped us five times already. Oh well, the reward should be enough to buy us plenty of food to eat."

The crew all simultaneously shared a glance among themselves and concluded that Snakebite was just plain old delirious. The reward for the craf (the creature Snakebite caught), no matter how sentimentally prized, was not going to feed a crew of six men, excluding Snakebite.

"Well time to mutiny, boys." The oldest man in the crew, a grizzled man of an ancient 27, proclaimed, "Leave the supplies, the poor bastard is going to need all the money he can get."

"What!? You backstabbers! You're all secretly trackers aren't you?" Harry screamed after the retreating backs of his crew.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry was grumbling under the weight of his supplies as he trudged back to the nearest village. Stupid Africa and its ability to mess with almost all forms of magic except for, oddly enough, tracking magic which explained how his horseshoe nail worked. This unfortunately meant no levitation charms.

He found the owner of the cat he took so long to catch and gave him the cat literally trussed up in ropes. He didn't trust the little bugger to stay in any cage, especially since he broke out of three others already.

'Oh thank you, thank you for him. I've been trying to catch him forever. Now I can use him for dinner." The fat owner gushed.

Harry stared at the obese man, "What. Did. You. Say…"

"Huh? Didn't you know? I needed him for my dinner. This species of craf is a rare delicacy."

"I thought you were his owner."

"Preposterous!"

"So, let me get this straight. You were so lazy in catching a craf to eat, that you lied to me to get sympathy to help you. Were you really going to pay me fifty Galleons?"

"What? I thought we agreed on five Sickles?"

"Oh my bad, I have a problem hearing others. I hope you aren't expecting for me to change my mind now are you?" Harry asked in a syrupy sweet tone of voice.

"I-I-I-I-I…" The nervous man stammered as he looked at Harry's suddenly flat, merciless eyes that spoke of danger, havoc, and destruction on the poor fool that dared to anger him.

"Okay?" He squeaked.

IIIIIIIIII

The crew was in a bar while nursing the glass of cheap beer they could afford, lamented the wasted work of the last two days with Snakebite that could have been spent getting themselves good and properly drunk instead. With a bang, the doors to the bar were kicked in by a person who was covered up in fabric.

He walked up to the bartender to slam two Galleons on the countertop, "Well, my good man! Drinks are on me for the poor crowd down their in the corner over there." He proclaimed as he pointed toward the crew.

Jaws fell to the ground with an audible smack as they realized that it was Snakebite who was treating them to better drinks than the beers they currently had.

"Fellows, I regret to say that our partnership has come to such a tragic end. I'm sorry that we couldn't work together anymore and I hope there will be no hard feelings between us, especially since I now have fifty Galleons of my own to spend and no one to share it with. On a side note, I have already sold all of your gear for more money than I previously bought it with and I will be working alone from now on." Harry announced before he walked out of the bar.

Word quickly spread to never mess with Snakebite on payment on a mission and to never mutiny against him.

…

…

…

A/N-

I had trouble with the last bit of the chapter. I was trying to get Harry to decide to work alone for the next chapter instead of with a crew and I didn't want to go to the bother of introducing an entire character profile for a crew that I was going to use for at most half of a chapter. I felt that made it hard to make the ending of this chapter as goofy as the earlier chapters. Sorry!

Next chapter should be when things hit the fan as people finally notice Harry is missing, Harry goes after real treasure, and cookies for the first reviewer who gets the reference to Naruto in this chapter. I will be surprised if anyone gets it though. If you do, I will answer any question about the future of this story for the first reviewer who does. Anyway, REVIEWS ARE IN THE DOUBLE DIGITS! WHOOOO!

Pleeeease review people. Lack of them won't stop me, but they sure are encouraging. Oh and don't forget to do the poll on my profile page.

*Dodges thrown rotten fruit* Alright, alright, I'll stop and start writing the next chapter.

5. How to Tame a Nundu

Harry rode into town a few weeks later on the back of a zebra and made a beeline for the bar passing a number of shocked idlers.

"S'not something you see everyday," one of the men said calmly. "Didna think a bloody Z'bra uld let someone on 'is back."

"Gotta expect this sort of thing when Snake's involved," the other replied. "Weird bastard probly dinna know any better."

"What'll it be Snake?" The bartender asked.

"Scotch," Harry said. "Single malt, with a splash of water."

"If you don't mind my asking," he began. "How'd ya get that zebra to allow ya ta ride it?"

"Charm," Harry said with a shrug. "Just had to get into town to have a drink after the day I just had and I didn't feel like walking so what else was I supposed to do?"

"I see . . . that bad then?"

"Not bad per say," Harry demurred. "More annoying then anything else."

"Annoying?"

"Walking more than a mile when I don't need to be quiet? Of course, it's annoying. Do you have any guns in stock? I need a new one. I messed up the shot on the last one and had to use it to brain a coyote and a grakti before they attacked me."

"Dey prolly got an' old Web for sale in the general store," one of the other men offered. "Not sure if dat's wha yer lookin fer."

"But it might be," Harry said. He downed the rest of his drink. "Thanks, guess I'll mosey on over there with Dinner and head back to camp."

"Dinner?"

"The zebra," Harry explained. "Thought I'd give him a descriptive name."

"Charming him into your pot then?"

"You got it," Harry agreed. He dropped a bag of gold dust on the table. "Next rounds on me. Later all."

"Charmed a bloody zebra," the bartender laughed. "Gotta give him credit, Snake's visits are never boring."

IIIIIIIIII

The bar was relatively quiet for the next few weeks, well . . . relatively is a relative term since they had suffered an attack by a wounded rhino that had had the audacity to chase out all but the most serious drinkers and drink one of the whiskey barrels dry. Current thought was that it was either a very impolite animagus, or all Snakebite's fault. The current attention was devoted to a strenuous argument between two of the old timers on the merits of a pith helmet verses a fedora.

"A pith helmet is for the Purebloods and new-folk. They think it keeps them safe. The old timers know that your head is the last thing to get torn up. You either get poisoned or torn apart, either way, your head is fine. Stick with a fedora and you won't get ripped off as badly."

"I disagree," the geezer replied. "A pith has style, a pith has class, and best of all a pith feels really good if you haven't had one for a long while." The bar collectively groaned and despaired for their sanity if the other old bastard should fight his dementia long enough to muster a reply, that's why it was with mixed feelings when they saw Snake stroll through the doors with what appeared to be a Nundu kitten dogging his heels.

"Scotch," The bartender said as he placed a glass in front of Harry's favorite spot.

"What's that Snake?" the bartender asked politely, wondering if lunchtime wasn't too early to start dipping into his personal storage of beer.

"It seems to be a Nundu kitten."

"H-how d-did you do it, Snake?" One of the old-timers said in shock.

"Killed the momma o'course."

"By the way does anyone have a smaller gun than the last you sold me? These rifles don't work too well in a cave, barrels are too long."

". . ."

"Wh . . . what do you mean cave?"

"S'where the Nundu's live isn't it? In a small cave you can't really set your sights to get a clear shot at its head, plus the way it curls up . . ."

"So, how did you kill it?"

"Well, the only thing I could think of that I had on hand was my knife."

"You stabbed a Nundu to death? No, wait, you got close enough to it without suffocating?"

"Stabbed?" Harry laughed. "What would I do with a straight blade? Nah, I slit its throat. Everyone here should know that the knife to carry is a knife made for slicing."

Several of the man nodded in agreement, choosing for the sake of their sanity to set the rest of the conversation aside for now.

"Then what happened?" The bartender prompted while drinking one of his more alcoholic beers from his personal stores.

"Dragged the bugger out and handed it off to the men somewhere else in the village," Harry replied. "The kitten is another story."

"So, there I was, covered in the Nundu's blood, cutting off its head for the keeping as a trophy when the kitten shows up and bites me rather painfully on a sensitive area. That's right! It had the audacity to bite me on my butt! So, I turned and…"

IIIIIIIIII

As Dumbledore returned to his office, he noticed that something was different in his office. As he looked around carefully, noticing that Hedwig was still stuck in her cage, fuming, he realized that something new was on his desk.

A nameplate with the words "The Ironhead Master" sat innocuously on his desk. (1)

He grinned, "Minerva, surely you must realize that I can't leave something like that on my desk, as funny it may be."

He raised his wand to banish away the plate, and was unexpectedly shocked to see the desk Vanish along with the nameplate allowing all of the items previously on top of the desk to fall to the floor with a clatter, destroying most of his sensitive instruments.

Screams of "Minerva!" echoed throughout the Hogwarts castle as Hedwig snickered from her cage.

IIIIIIIIII

As Arabella Figg brought in her groceries, she was nearly tripped by her pesky Kneazles in their mad dash to her legs in an attempt to be the first to eat the delicious cat food that their mistress provided every day. The ones who were first the most often could be picked out as the fattest Kneazles of the lot.

"Get off me, you annoying furballs, or I will eat your cat food for dinner." Mrs. Figg gripped scaring the Kneazles off at the thought of losing their precious dinner, yes their preeecious fooood.

She sighed, "I swear if it wasn't for the fact that you all are the closest thing I have to being part of the magical world, I would've kicked you all off to the streets a long time ago. I suppose you do help as a magical detector for whenever Harry does accidental magi…"

She trailed off as the Kneazles all stared at her window; the same window that was slowly fogging over with a mysterious mist. Mrs. Figg frowned, wasn't it a hot, sunny summer day just a few moments ago?

Her eyes widened as she realized what was coming that had scared her Kneazles to all scatter elsewhere in her house.

"D-Dementors…" she whispered.

IIIIIIIIII

That Goatbeard-Man was finally gone, Hedwig thought, still making soft barks of laughter at Dumbledore's rage. (2)

She calmed as she inspected the locks of her cage once more, hoping to find a way out to her master and, more importantly, bacon.

Suddenly, there was a CAW! as with a poof of fire, Fawkes appeared in Dumbledore's office. Hedwig realizes that Fawkes had the power to break her out. Hedwig barked anxiously to Fawkes for help.

"Bark! Bark, bark, bark." Hedwig barked desperately.

"Chirp." Fawkes replied bluntly.

"Ba…rk." Hedwig crooned seductively.

"Chirp. Chirp." Fawkes rejected.

"…Bark? Bark?" Hedwig asked as a frantic last-resort.

"Chirp? Chirp! Chirp!" Fawkes denied violently.

"Bark." Hedwig barked innocently, knowing that Fawkes was putty in her hands…er…claws.

Fawkes carefully looked at Hedwig and sighed with the long-suffering sigh of one who knows he is addicted and is helpless before his own desire.

"Chirp…" Fawkes whispered in shame. (3)

IIIIIIIIII

"How did you-ha, ha, ha-do it?" Minerva asked Fred and George in between gasps of laughter.

"It was very simple-"

"-our dear teacher."

"We took your teachings to heart and-"

"-transfigured the desk to 'grow' the name plate you wanted added."

"So, whatever spell he casts on the nameplate."

"It affects the desk, too!"

IIIIIIIIII

"WHERE WAS ALBUS?!" Molly screamed at the guilty-looking gathered Order of the Phoenix.

She had just learned about a Dementor attack on Surrey, barely stopped by Harry's guards, Tonks, Mad-Eye, and a reluctant Mundungus, delivered by the guards themselves.

"He should have been on the scene immediately! He told me that he would watch over Harry! If it wasn't for Mrs. Figg's assistance, things would have been much worse!"

"And just WHERE'S Harry!"

IIIIIIIIII

Dumbledore was muttering to himself, as he rapidly fixed his instruments that he had damaged by accidentally Vanishing his desk.

"There! Now I will be aware of any mischief that Harry gets into in Surrey if any magic is used there. I'm sure that I didn't miss anything too important anyway."

IIIIIIIIII

"So here I am knocking the kitten around and teaching it a lesson to never ever mess with me, after chasing it through all of Africa and having it bite me so many times that I lost count after twenty. Aaaaand now it's following me around treating me like I'm its mom or something." Harry finishes his epic story with a scowl at the Nundu kitten.

"I thought Nundus were supposed to be tough?" Harry frowned at the other prospector in the bar. "Ya know, hundreds of wizards working together to take it down? Ferocious killing machine that kills everything and anything it can?"

The old timers nodded, their faces still ashen pale from the shock of the news earlier.

"So tell me, why is this damn kitten gnawing on my foot and has decided to adopt me as its parent? And the parents, aren't they supposed to be dangerous. A ton and a half of big-cat, magically enhanced and full of mean; a single bullet kills it? The damn thing almost landed on me. It's breath? Don't get me started, sure, I got a good lungful, but after throwing up a few times, I was fine! Isn't it supposed to be dangerous?"

The old timers nodded in agreement putting aside the sheer impossibility of the scene before him to think about later, preferably after several glasses of drink.

One of the elderly men offered a guess, "Most Nundus grow-up being knocked around by its parents, so maybe, missing its momma and you literally kicking it around, it imprinted on you like a duck would?"

"Maybe…" Harry shrugged.

Harry sighed. "Bugger, well, it wasn't as dangerous as the Basilisk I killed when I was 12." He paused in thought. "Basilisks sell for a fair penny don't they? I think I may have to harvest the corpse if it hasn't decayed too badly. Even the skeleton and skin should be worth something I suppose."

The old timer nodded and then quietly toppled over backwards in a faint.

Harry shrugged and signaled for another round. "Put it on my friend here's tab."

Word soon got out. Snakebite the un-killable and his pet Nundu. Amazingly, the prices he paid for equipment took a tumble after that. After all, no one wanted to mess with a man who domesticated a Nundu and killed a Basilisk when he was 12. It just wasn't worth your life. They'd been willing to believe that the first time was a freak accident . . . well, assuming that it had happened in the first place. People had been known to . . . embellish their accounts of what had happened for free drinks, but when the bastard had the audacity to bring proof? Well, that was something else now wasn't it?

(1) Ironhead means a stupid person, so Ironhead Master or Iron Headmaster is a little pun. Just a note of clarification for anyone who may not get the joke.

(2) I learned from Rorschach's Blot that Snowy Owls bark, not hoot and can make a sound like "Prick" like in the last chapter.

(3) Translated for those ignorant of the languages of the birds or aren't 'Poultrymouths':

"Help me! I will do anything for you." Hedwig barked desperately.

"You have nothing I want." Fawkes replied bluntly.

"I have certain…charms to offer." Hedwig crooned seductively.

"I'm only interested in female Phoenixes. So, I must respectfully decline." Fawkes rejected.

"…How about something flammable? Phoenixes like to play with fires, don't they?" Hedwig asked as a frantic last-resort.

"Flammable? No! Dumbledore says I'm not allowed near gunpowder and shame on you for tempting me!" Fawkes denied violently.

"Who said anything about gunpowder?" Hedwig barked innocently, knowing that Fawkes was putty in her hands…er…claws.

Fawkes carefully looked at Hedwig and sighed with the long-suffering sigh of one who knows he is addicted and is helpless before his own desire.

"Can you get me gunpowder?" Fawkes whispered in shame.

…

A/N-

Ya-Hoooo! The number of reviews I had practically tripled (12 to 34) and for two days straight, I had over a thousand people look at my story! (According to my Traffic Stats anyway.)

On to more important matters, I took down the polls, because I believe that I will be going with Beauxbatons and I felt that it would be unfair to the voters for them to choose one school (like Drumstrang) and to place Harry in a different school anyway, even if I warned them that it might happen. I finally got to the Dementor attack! I thought I would be done with it by the second chapter, and now it's…let's see…the fifth chapter! I corrected several errors with the book timeline and it's definitely supposed to be before the fifth book.

Congratulations to Snow, rpgaff2, redstickbonbon, and gama dokusha. You all got the Naruto reference and can PM me for any questions for the future plotline of the story which I will answer. ONE question each!

Next chapter update should be in a week! And I forgot to write about Harry finding treasure. *Doh* Once again, review! Imaginary cookies for everyone who reviews!

6. The Order Gets Suspicious

"Sssssss..." - Parseltongue speech

…

"Ah, Severus. What news do you have for me?" asked Voldemort.

Severus Snape bowed respectfully and said, "My lord, I have heard of a supplier who can provide the Basilisk, Nundu, and Chimera parts you require. His name is 'Snakebite' and he's in Africa."

"Excellent, begin negotiations at once," purred the dark lord.

"Of course, master. Do you wish me to abandon Hogwarts? Preparation for the term starts in a week and Dumbledore will notice my absence." Snape's reply was in a carefully neutral tone.

"Hmm, no I need you there to keep spying on Dumbledore, I'll use…WORMTAIL!" Voldemort hissed out. "Go to Africa, find the man called Snakebite that Severous talked about. He should be able to find the ingredients I need for this ritual and be on your best behavior. A man like him, even I respect his power. Nagini will go with you, she likes to spend time in Africa, so she will know what areas you should and should not venture into."

"Yes master," Wormtail simpered.

Voldemort untied the knot he put Nagini in and she growled in annoyance as he petted her.

"Fffetch." He hissed as he threw a rat at Wormtail, causing him to squeal as Nagini slithered toward him. He stood still, quivering internally, hoping she wouldn't bite him as she ate the rat on the top of his head.

Nagini panted, she hated how he played around with her and all the games of fetch he did with her. But she couldn't wait to go hunting again. There weren't any places other than Africa where she could find rats that grew so large. Also, she liked the Death-Eater that was going to accompany her, he smelled soooo pleasantly of rat. Too bad her master forbade her eating another Death-Eater after she had that delicious recruit.

Wormtail moaned as he crawled away nervously from Nagini, now on the floor, she was always staring at him like he was prey.

Snape was quick to report back to the Order that Snakebite going to be hired by Voldemort unless the Order got to him first.

IIIIIIIIII

A couple days later, Harry was shaking down one of his local 'informants' for information pertaining to his next hunt.

"What areee you looking fffor today?"

"Loud-mouthed Sssnook," Harry said to his . . . informant.

"What'sss in it for meee?"

"Nice fffat juicy rat," Harry replied.

"Fffive ratssss."

"Two," Harry replied.

"Threeee," the snake said firmly. "Fffinal offffer."

"Deal," Harry agreed. "Accio rat, accio rat, accio rat."

"Sssaw a loud-mouthed Sssnook on the river two daysss ago, sssouth of here."

"How fffar?"

"Jussst passst the lightning ssstruck tree."

"Pleasssure doing businessss with you," Harry said with a grin.

"Plesssure wasss all mineee," the snake replied as it turned to its meal.

Two days later, Peter stumbled back to the Dark Headquarters looking much worse for wear.

"How did your meeting go Wormtail?" Voldemort demanded.

"He tried to feed me to a poison snake master," Wormtail simpered. "I barely got away with my life."

"That just shows him to be a man of good taste," Voldemort growled. "By the way where's Nagini?"

"S-S-She stayed to follow S-Snakebite when she saw all the rats he was feeding to the other snake."

"WHAT!? After all I've ever done for her? All the birthday parties, Valentine's Days, and lovingly plump rats I fed her? That bitch! CRUCIO!"

IIIIIIIIII

Harry faced the snake that had been following him for the last mile after he got the 'loud-mouthed' Snook. It was a Blue Krait and what was worse, was that it was a magical Blue Krait. Like the Muggle version, they ate other snakes, and were sometimes even cannibalistic. However unlike the Muggle version, they gained the speed and strength of the other Kraits they devour, which explained why they were so rare. (1)

Harry silently thanked the bookstore keeper who he had bought the books on magical beasts from or else he would have tried to talk to the snake when he was much closer and possibly gotten himself killed. Their venom was much more poisonous than the Muggle variety and he would have died in seconds.

"Who areee you?"

"Nagini."

Saying that Harry was shocked was an understatement.

"Why isss Voldemort'sss pet hereee?" He hissed.

"My massster isss conssstantly treating me like a dog and never feedsss meee enough ratsss." She hissed in reply.

"Ssso you will stay with meee ifff I fffeed you with all the ratsss you could want."

Harry thought it over. It really was a no-brainer, here was Voldemort's favorite pet in front of him and as long as he kept an eye on her, he'd be fine and aware of Voldemort's most recent plans. He didn't have to worry about her attacking him, because as a Parselmouth, he could force her to obey him and with a few days away from her master, Voldemort's control would be gone.

Harry sighed, this meant several sleepless nights until he knew if he could trust her or not.

"Alright comeee with meee." (2)

IIIIIIIIII

Dumbledore raised his hands and calmly said, "Please let me explain, Molly."

"YOU BETTER!" She ranted. "What's this I'm hearing about Dementors near Harry's home and you're telling me that it took a life-threatening attack for anyone to realize that he wasn't in his room?! Didn't anyone think to check why he hadn't been venturing outside of his house?"

"Umm, I can explain that…" Tonks blushingly said while raising her hand up in the air.

As Molly glared, Tonks continued, "Mundungus, Mad-Eye and I were the only guards on Harry. Mad-Eye obviously was able to see immediately if Harry was in his room or not thanks to his magical eye. So, Harry probably left a week ago at most, since Mad-Eye's turn was last week. Mundungus and I were really only watching for any danger that might have approached Harry's home and not for Harry leaving. So we didn't come indoors to check."

Molly kept glaring, and Tonks' blush deepened even farther. "Mundungus might have been just lazy, but he made some crude jokes at the start of the summer about me going to check directly on Harry and coming in through the window when he could be…changing."

At the admission of the Auror's embarrassment, Molly blinked and made a soft "Oh".

"Arrrgh, embarrassment…it's the leading cause of death for Aurors, even before lack of constant vigilance." Moody growled.

Tonks now blinked owlishly, "Is that why you insist on looking in the girl's bathroom and my room? To be vigilant and to not let embarrassment stop you?"

Moody grinned "If that's what you want to think, by all means, be my guest."

Tonks' blush colored her cheeks and hair matched the famous red Weasly hair.

Dumbledore sighed. As helpful as Tonks was for distracting Molly, he really had to explain his failure or as Moody would say, his lack of vigilance.

"Molly, I'm sorry for this disaster, but my instruments were broken at the time and I could not fix them until after the event and by then I was called to this meeting."

Molly glared, "Fine I'll accept your excuse. But, this better not happen again and we still need to find Harry…Ironhead Master."

Walburga Black started screaming about Mudbloods and blood traitors when she was awakened by the screams of laughter from the other room.

IIIIIIIIII

If Hedwig could grin like a human, she'd be grinning from ear to ear, unfortunately she had to settle for curving her beak in a mischievous manner.

Fawkes faced her and focused his formidable powers over fire on her cage, melting the metal bars, carefully making sure that Hedwig wasn't affected by the extreme heat and the metal wasn't dripping on her.

When the cage was completely melted, Hedwig gave a grateful hoot and quickly informed Fawkes on the best place to get gun powder. Back in the Academy for Postal Service, she had been known to be able to get anything…for a price. Her nickname was Fence after the Muggle drug dealers who sold illegal items to other Muggles and had been thought of by a hawk who watch waaaaay too mach Muggle television.

After Fawkes retrieved his promised pile of gunpowder, he…played…around with it.

Many students reported the castle suspiciously shaking and the screams of horror from Dumbledore's office when Dumbledore came back after his Order meeting with the angry Molly.

Fawkes was seen with an impossibly wide beaky grin and suspiciously smoking feathers.

Dumbledore was muttering about the costs to repair his office and how he was going to pay for it.

Dumbledore added a new rule to Hogwarts rulebook for the first time in over a hundred years.

NO GUNPOWDER ALLLOWED NEAR PHOENIXES!

Fawkes torched the new editions of the rulebook.

IIIIIIIIII

When Dumbledore calmed down about the mess and stopped scolding Fawkes, he noticed a slightly singed note on his desk.

To whom it may concern,

Not gonna come back any time soon, find a new hobby.

H.J. Potter

People could hear screams throughout Hogwarts, "WHY MEEEEEE?!"

Later…

"What can you tell us about this Severus?"

"Paper was made roughly out of the skin of a muggle animal called a kangaroo; they're rather vicious creatures with the ability to crush your ribs with a single deadly jump," Snape began. "The ink . . . now the ink is interesting."

"How so?"

"Because it proves that dunder head never had any talent in potions," Snape replied. "Any second year student could have recognized the plant this came from as being a valuable potions ingredient. Potter wasted a rare and valuable root to write his little note."

"Where could this ingredient be found?"

"In Africa."

"So Harry's in Africa?" Minerva asked, her face tightening in worry.

"That remains to be seen," Snape said thoughtfully. "It's equally likely that this is a ruse to throw us off track."

"What do you suggest?" Dumbledore asked.

"I suggest that we release his owl," Minerva said with a glare at Dumbledore, "For while I don't approve of taking a student's pet away, she will be helpful in finding Harry and we can follow her to the poor lost young boy."

Dumbledore's twinkle was conspicuously absent as he inched away from Minerva looking remarkably like one of the Gryffindor first years who were caught doing something bad.

"What…did…you…do?" Minerva growled at him.

"Umm…FawkesburneddownHedwig'scageandnowshe'smissin g." Dumbledore blurted out in a rush of barely audible words.

Minerva's glare rivaled the exploding ferocity of multiple volcanoes and Snape silently thanked that he wasn't Dumbledore and wished he was anywhere else, even with Voldemort.

"You mean to tell me that Harry has been gone the entire summer and while no one noticed, you also lost his bird, the only way we probably could use to find him?" Minerva thundered. She was less then amused when she heard the news. "You told me he was safe Albus." It came out like an accusation.

"The Order . . ."

"Is evidently filled with a lot of layabouts," Minerva sniffed. "How could you Albus? I trusted you with Harry's safety and this is what you do."

"We can still follow that lead to Africa," Dumbledore tried to mollify the irate woman.

"Fine," Minerva agreed. "Let's go."

"Now?"

"If I know Harry Potter," Minerva growled. "Every second we waste puts him deeper and deeper in mortal peril. Unless you want me to put you in mortal peril, you will assemble the Order and we will go to Africa to look for him as soon as possible."

"Do what you can to narrow the search area Severus," Dumbledore said unhappily.

"Hmph," Minerva said as she stormed off.

As it so happened, down in the deepest heart of Africa, Harry Potter was in mortal peril.

"Come on," Harry waved his hand at the growling Hyena. "You want some of this?" He'd committed one of the mortal sins of traveling in dangerous country, he'd gone out late at night to answer the call of nature and he'd neglected to bring a weapon. Harry dodged the animal's clumsy leap and planted his boot in the beast's testicles. The Hyena seemed to shift in mid air and what landed was a human in a loincloth clutching a spear. The man dropped his spear as he leapt to his feet and began running away. "Lesson learned," Harry mumbled as he snatched up the abandoned spear. "Never leave camp without a rifle." A scream and a gurgle rewarded his efforts and after buttoning up, he returned to camp to resume his rest.

"Massster, areee you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, just annoyed at my ressst being disssturbed."

Harry looked at Nagini thoughtfully. So far, she hadn't attacked him and it was looking as if she really was loyal to him. If snakes spent an extended amount of time with another Parselmouth, then all previous control of a different Parselmouth would quickly fade. Harry decided to wait one more day and than he would start trusting Nagini, although he would still carry the antidote to her venom in case. He groaned to himself, at this rate, he would be at least as paranoid as Mad-Eye before the summer was over.

"Bark."

"Argh!"

"Nagini! We're under attaaaaack."

"Oh, it's jussst Hedwig."

"BARK!"

"I'm SORRRY! I didn't mean to leave you!"

The following scene is so horrible that to maintain our rating we have been forced to show only the sounds and warn young viewers to turn away.

WARNING! Snarl, rip, crunch, smack, other screams of agony and groveling will follow…

"Argh, not in the face, not in the face!"

"Why oh why has god forsaken me?"

"BAAAARRRK"

Sickening Crunch!

"I promise that I'll never leave you behind like that again!"

"BARK!"

"What can I do to make the pain stop!?"

"Bark, bark, bark, bark, bark."

"OK, I'll buy you all the bacon you could ever want but I'm not getting you a personal servant."

"Hissssss."

"Okay, I'll do the same for you with snake treats, by the way what do snakes like to eat? Rats?"

"BARK BARK BARK BARK!"

"How about if I give you bacon from a wild boar, will that make you happy!?"

"Bark."

"Thank god!"

"By the way this is Nagini and Nagini, this is Hedwig."

"Please get along you two. For me?"

"Bark." Nagini spoke in Hedwig's language.

"Hissss." Hedwig replied in Nagini's slithering speech.

"Thank god you two are getting along…NO HEDWIG! NAGINI'S NOT FOOD! AND THAT GOES FOR YOU, NAGINI TOO!"

(1) If you're interested in learning more about the Blue Krait, here's a link to the site. It's number three on the list of snakes. I know that Nagini isn't really a Blue Krait, but I thought that I should use a real species of snake and J.K. Rowling said she was a Python reticulatus, or a reticulated python, but they aren't even poisonous, more like a boa constrictor in how they kill prey. Also, I love the color of the Blue Krait anyway.

listverse (DOT HERE) com/2011/03/30/top-10-most-venomous-snakes/

(2) For a point of clarification, Nagini doesn't know about her connection to Voldemort or the Horcrux in her head. Just that her master is excessively protective of her and did weird rituals with her that increased her intelligence and magic. This may be an interesting plot twist later. *wink, wink*

…

…

A/N- It's been a hectic week for me! At 17, I finally have a learner's permit! Yay! I'm slowing down with this story's updates from every 2-3 days to one chapter a week. Sorry y'all! I'm going to go more into Africa's particular system of magic and have Harry learn some useful skills with magic and the Order might finally catch up to Harry…or not! It's a surprise, shhhh.

I will be introducing Sirius next chapter and I really recommend people read The Horror! The Horror! by DisobedienceWriter. Give a big shout out to Hemotem for telling me about it. It's a story where Harry also goes to…guess where!…Africa!

By the way, I'm looking around for a beta; does anyone want to help me? PM me if you do and I'll introduce you by the next chapter. Thank you all for reading and reviewing!

P.S. I also found a nice image for the story to use like a book cover, hope you guys like it.

7. Who Said What To Who?

"Sssssss..." - Parseltongue speech

…

Harry groaned as he woke up to see a…HUMONGOUS CAT ON HIS…shush, shush Harry quickly thought to himself before he could scream in terror and unintentionally awaken the cat the was at least as big as him and could eat him in one or two bites.

'How the hell did this happen?' Harry frantically thought to himself, as the cat…hell no, the thing should be called a monster…purred as its head and upper half of its body rested on top of his chest. The truly scary thing wasn't that it had a disturbingly large number of teeth or that it was as big as some of the wild hyenas he so often had to take down, but the fact that it snuck past his other pets and went to sleep with him as a pillow…ALL without him noticing!?

It would be a fair statement to say that Harry wasn't a happy camper, speaking of which it was getting rather hard to breathe for him as his chest was getting slowly crushed by this heavy cat-monster.

Harry wondered why he gets into these situations with new animals following him around. Did he smell good or something?

"Pssssssssst…Nagini, why do I have a cat on me?"

"Issssn't sssshe your pet? Your sssccccent isss allll over her." Nagini grumped, "Now leeeave meee aloneee, I want to sssllleep."

Nagini loved her beauty naps, although if Harry insisted on waking her up every morning with pointless questions, she would consider moving back to Voldemort's place and see what he thought of that!

"When did I get a new pet? I don't remember ever havinnng a cat as a pet."

"Sssshe'sssss the Nundu you adopted, zzz…snore…"

That was also another point in Voldemort's favor, she didn't have to share him with any other pets. Although if Harry fed the Nundu to her, then she might be tempted to stay, mmm…she knew that fried Nundu tasted like chicken.

Harry sighed, so the Nundu had come back? Well he wasn't too surprised, just a little shocked that it would curl up to him like this. Honestly, he expected it to have left for better pickings, go live in a cave, munching on the poor creatures walking by, like all the other Nundus did.

"Alright Harry, it's now or never. Fingers crossed on it not mauling your face off." He mumbled to himself as he grabbed a dagger for protection as he nudged the Nundu, hoping for the best.

The Nundu sleepily opened its purple-colored eyes and yawned, showing the many (oh gods so much teeth couldn't possibly fit!) teeth in her jaws. Then a sound echoed that froze Harry in place like a solid stone statue waiting for the inevitable attack, the Nundu's belly rumbling in hunger.

Then the Nundu crawled off Harry and bumped him with her head in an unmistakable message for food.

Harry got up and did his daily chores to feed himself and his two…er…three pets. He had to take down a hyena, rat, and pig for the Nundu, Nagini, and Hedwig. He then leaned back against a tree right behind him and started thinking seriously about his life and what he was going to do.

Harry had a great time in Africa, but while he had escaped from his house for freedom, he truly wasn't free. Oh sure, he could do whatever he wanted and the danger he faced on a daily basis made him feel as if he was alive for the first time in his life, but sooner or later he was going to have to go back to Hogwarts and there was still Voldemort out there who wanted his head on a silver platter.

"Hmmm…I guess I'm going to have to 'Siriusly' focus on getting stronger and better, I'll go back to the village for info on that." Harry decided just as a ball of purple fur tackled him and whined for more food while simultaneously licking his face.

"Oh yeah, I need to call you something…hmmm, how about Furball, it describes you perfectly!" Harry muttered to himself.

"Alright, now get off me…Furball!"

The Nundu suddenly growled with its teeth dangerously close to his throat.

"Okay, okay, okay! I won't call you that!" Harry gulped as he nervously realized that he had just avoided a severe mauling by a Nundu that was too close to him for his tastes. He wanted it on the next continent, preferably buried under fifty feet of dirt and then an ocean and encased in concrete for good measure.

"Soooo, seeing how you understand me and can make me regret annoying you, no insulting names for you then."

"Hmm…I'll go with Aerfen, it means to end a battle and I always prefer to end a fight, rather than starting one."

The Nundu then purrrrrrrred in agreement. Harry stared at it and groaned, "What is it with me and intelligent female animals joining up with me. Is it supposed to be a harem for furries or something?"

IIIIIIIIII

The Order of the Phoenix were rushing off to Africa to find Harry; little did they know, it'd be like finding a needle in a haystack crawling with venomous creatures from Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures. Among the Order were Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Tonks, Moody and Sirius.

"Alright, everyone scatter around and ask everyone you can find in this village. We just came from the only train that Harry could've taken to Africa, so Harry must have passed by through here. Dumbledore, you're coming with me, I don't trust what you'd do right now if you found Harry first. Stay in pairs, people and be back here in an hour. I better not see you two, Snape and Sirius, doing anything to each other. Are we clear people?! Then, go, go, go, go!" McGonagall barked. She was furious that Harry, her favorite student, had been left in danger and she was going to have words with Dumbledore when they got back to Hogwarts. After all, how could she win the Quidditch Cup without a Seeker?

McGonagall ran off, Dumbledore in tow while snarling, "If Harry's not okay, so the gods of magic help me, Dumbledore you are going to…"

The group scattered with everyone else thinking, "Don't ever get McGonagall angry."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry strolled through a random village, unfortunately very far away from the one that the Order was combing through right now, with his pets trailing behind him. The village looked abandoned, but all of the people were just hiding in terror from Harry's new pet Nundu.

"I wonder where all of the people went? I know everybody was here just last week when I was stopping by for food supplies. Oh hey, there's a guy running away right now. Why is he screaming in fear? Eh oh well, Aerfen go fetch…HEY! I SAID FETCH, NOT EAT HIM!"

"Let him go, he's in no shape to run anywhere. Look, he passed out and his pants are soiled now. No you can't have him as a treat; you'll spoil your appetite for dinner."

Harry then slapped the guy until he came around, "Mommy did you see the number of that truck that hit me and tried to eat me?"

Harry sternly told him, "Okay, one-I'm not your mommy and two-where can I find someone to train me in dueling for a price?"

"Try Stan's Safari two villages up north." The poor sap replied before passing out again.

"What is it with all of these villagers? You'd think living in Africa would have made them a little less likely to faint when you have ravenous predators after you? HEY Aerfen, I said no eating him, Nagini and Hedwig, that goes double for you too!"

IIIIIIIII

"Have you seen a boy with green eyes and black hair come by here a few weeks ago?"

The bartender was looking down and polishing his glass that seemed to use magic to stay dirty and muttered, "How should I know? Now'days it takes meh awhile to remem'er an'thin' importan', but I could speed i'up if my pockets were a little heavier wit' coin…if ya catch my drift."

"How dare you disrespect your ex-teacher, Bert or should I say, Empty-Pockets Bert, mmmm?"

The bartender looked up with wide-open eyes, dropping his poorly faked accent, "I didn't know it was you Professor, I swear!"

"Then tell me what you know about Harry, and I won't let everyone know about your embarrassments in trying to date Sharon in your seventh year."

"Hey wasn't that a girl you bragged about getting into the sack with when you were in school?" A customer called out on the opposite end of the bar.

"Now, now, I don't think you need to go that far to get him to talk, after all I don't think poor Bert deserve you spilling his secrets."

"Silence, I'm furious at you right now, so don't say another word! And I'm spilling if you don't confess!" as she glared at Bert the bartender.

"Alright! I'll tell you everything free of charge! Please don't say anything else about my school days!"

"While normally I don't condone lying, I'll let it go for now. Tell me what you know about the boy I described."

"I never heard of him and there's no such person in the village right now, but you should ask Snakebite, he knows everybody around here."

"Where can we find this Mister…Snakebite?"

"He's probably in the bush right now; he'll be back in a week to a month, never if he kicks the bucket before then. I don't know anything else, sorry."

"Thank you for helping."

As they left, one of the customers asked, "Hey, I guess you aren't going to pay up on your debts, are you Empty-Pockets Bert?" to roars of laughter

IIIIIIIII

"Alright, you're telling me what I want to know or I'm doing despicable things to you right now that'll be considered crimes against nature." He growled to the poor unfortunate villager who was just passing by and been captured.

"Why are you asking him? We should be asking a bartender for the information. It is common knowledge that they have information for sale."

"First of all, this way is cheaper and second of all, the enemy can't have a planted spy to feed us misinformation if they have to replace every single civilian instead of just replacing the bartenders. Now stop bothering me and let torture this guy for Harry's location."

"Why should I tell you anything? I live in Africa and you guys aren't as scary as the dangers I face on a daily basis." The villager arrogantly responded.

"You see the guy next to me? He killed and tortured hundreds of people in the last war against Voldemort, and that's public information. He's teaching kids in Hogwarts as the Potions teacher. Now look at me, I'm the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher this upcoming school year and already the students are more afraid of me than of him. Do you really want me to hurt you for the information I want?"

"What do you want to know?" The villager politely replied.

"Now tell us what we need to know about a boy with green eyes, black hair, almost about fifteen years old, and is roughly 5'6" tall."

"I should have KNOWN you monsters were looking for him! You're trying to find Snakebite? Hah! You don't scare me as much as he does! The guy has a freaking Nundu as a pet, rode a zebra and cooked it once, is one of the richest bastards in Africa, and there are rumors that me killed a Basilisk as a kid."

"Sounds like Potter alright, just like his father, another attention-seeking prat."

"The kid is impressive, but I'm sure that we could do worse things to you, involving some nipple clamps, baby oil, whips aaaaand my friend here getting…friendly with you…"

"I WILL NOT BE HELPING YOU D-D-DO THIS FOR POTTER!"

"Oh? So, you'd do it for someone else? I didn't know you swung that way. Congratulations on coming out of the closet."

"Gahhhh!"

"It doesn't matter what you do to me, I don't know where Snakebite is. Please let me go." The villager whimpered.

"Well pal, I'm sorry, but I don't believe you."

The villager moaned in terror. Even Snakebite couldn't be this bad, could he?

IIIIIIIIII

She breathed in and asked sweetly while displaying her…er…assets, "Hey you seen a boy named Harry Potter, green eyes, messy black hair?"

The bartender yawned, "Sorry, I don't know anything."

She hffed, "Are you…sure?" She whispered in a sultry voice, straining her chest even more.

The bartender crisply spoke, "Nope toots." Didn't she know he wasn't giving anything up without some money? It was the only reason he was doing better than the bar down the street, now that poor fool was going out of business soon with all the women getting free drinks.

"Give it up sweetie, it's against union regulations for him to blabber everything to a pretty woman. Now a bride on another hand is different, step back and let the master get to work."

"That's right, regs prevent me from saying anything except, 'What do you want to drink?' without a hefty bride…ahem…hefty bride…there you go, that's the amount I wanted. It sounds like you're looking for Snakebite himself. I'd wait for him here, but if you wanted to find someone else to tell you where to find him, I'd suggest going to Stan's Safari to find him there. There's a saying that if you waited by the Safari, then sooner or later everyone in Africa will pass by, unless they're dead first."

"See kiddo, if you stick with me then you'll learn how to get info, being a woman's great to get it out of young suckers, but for older men and other women, you need lessons."

"I don't know what you're talking about, all I know is that you just spent all of our money and I know that you were planning on spending it for some drinks later."

"…shit…"

IIIIIIIII

The Order gathered back together in front of the train station to report on their findings.

"Harry isn't in the village anymore, but I hear that a pleasant fellow by the name of Snakebite can help us."

"Hah, PLEASANT? Harry and Snakebite are the same person! Both despicable attention-grabbers like his father."

"No mocking my student, or you WILL regret it." A very catlike growl snarled out along with whispers of 'shut up or you'll regret it'.

"He's lying; the kid did some very impressive stuff according to a very reliable source, pity he couldn't provide us with any more information."

"After what you did to him? I'll be lucky NOT to have nightmares for a month after this."

"Umm, we heard that Snakebite might be at Stan's Safari."

"We spent our booze money for that information." He wept at that admission.

"I'd thought you'd be glad to spend it for Harry's sake?"

"I am, but if Harry's been in Africa for a month, then he's ready to lose his Fire Whisky virginity and I wanted to be the one to buy the first bottle." He explained.

"...you are a disturbed man…"

"Hey what did you expect after twelve years in Azkaban?"

"Let's just get to the Safari…I hope Harry's there."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry stood in front of a wooden building that looked like it was falling apart, a faded sign on the front saying, "Stan's Safari, The ONLY Safari with a death rate in the SINGLE-DIGITS! Prices-15 Galleons for adults and 12 Galleons for children with a 5 Galleon deposit."

"Why are my spidey senses tingling?"

…

…

A/N-Hello dear readers, I'm sorry for not updating in more than a month. *ducks rotten fruit* Sorry! As a reward for the late update, I have a logic puzzle to solve. The Order was divided into pairs for their search for Harry, figure out who were interviewing Bert the bartender, the villager, and the nameless bartender. If you think that was too easy then, figure out who was saying each line, especially the conversation with the entire Order at the end.

I was busy with my summer job and then college applications when the Common App was released. Although, I was suffering from some writer's block, so I can't say it was entirely because of being busy. Anyway, I was finally motivated into finishing the chapter when I got a lot of e-mails from the website, when a lot of people started adding me to their favorite stories. I was impressed to have so many people reading my writing, I hope that the chapters are funny enough; writing humor isn't my strong suit.

I also finally introduced the Nundu, not that I forgot about it in the last chapter or anything. *looks away whistling innocently* Also, this is the first chapter where there is absolutely nothing written by Rorschach's Blot, which might have been the reason for my writer's block. Yay!

Anyway, I have a new beta, his name is gster391, and he's been really helpful. Check out my profile, I have a little section at the bottom of my profile on how I'm doing in writing the next chapter of my fan fics. I might be posting a new Harry Potter Fan fic soon, I abandoned my Twilight one. It'll be posted some other time. Read and Review, people and you'll get imaginary, cyber cookies! I'm only three more reviews away from a hundred of them.

8. Dead Story's Grave has been Grave-Robbed

Hello,

Throughout the years, I have gotten multiple kind reviews asking me for more chapters and to my shameful regret, I never responded to any of them.

I have updated this story to finally lay this story to rest with a clear declaration that I will not be updating this story ever again. I ran out of inspiration a very long time ago and I don't have the slightest desire to do any more writing for this story.

The main reason why I have updated after so long is because a kind reviewer let me know that Wattpad user, kinkyfool, has plagiarized this work as their own and I am directly informing all readers to make it clear that I do not use Wattpad and will not ever do so.

Ironically, if they have asked, I wouldn't have minded and given permission to repost the first 7 chapters, and then to write whatever continuation they liked to the story after the point I dropped it.

Am I going to do anything about it? Not really other than letting my readers know that I am NOT kinkyfool.

Thank you for your support and kind words all of these years,

Devil Reader

EDIT: All of a sudden, the wattpad account just disappeared along with the associated stories. I have no clue what happened after I posted this chapter, but I have the feeling you guys were helpful in some way. So thanks! To justice, freedom, and original writing!