Author's Note: I don't really know how to describe London, because the only real city I've ever been to is New York. So if I ever try to describe England and the characteristics I give it aren't really true, just ignore it because I've never been there :P



Harry couldn't believe it. Less than a day out of Privet Drive and he was already engaged in a wild chase in the middle of London by Death Eater grunts shooting spells of all colors and varieties at him, but never a Killing Curse. And Harry wasn't surprised - he knew that Voldemort wanted to kill Harry himself.

Harry thundered down a dark, wet alley, trying any maneuver at all to throw off the Death Eaters, to make them think that he went anywhere else. His footsteps were hard, and he wouldn't last long like this - his knees were beginning to buckle and he was running out of breath. On his way down this particular alley he picked up a rock as he ran by it before skirting down another alley to the left. As he heard the Death Eaters approach, he threw the rock hard down another path, and grinned in victory as the Death Eaters followed the path that the rock was thrown, assuming that that had been a noise made by Harry in his attempt to flee. That was a same trick he had used with the Basilisk in second year, and it had worked then - but a giant snake is very different than two large grown men in black enough clothes to blend into the night.

Although he probably couldn't afford it, Harry sunk down against the wall he was leaning against, trying to catch his breath. He felt as though he had just run three miles - his lungs were constricting and his throat was dry. His glasses were smudged and his hair was matted, his clothes filthy. He cursed the fact that he hadn't had more time to practice Apparating. He could do it just fine when he had enough time to concentrate, to think of the three D's - but when he was being chased like this, he didn't have much enough time to think.

It would be like this for a long time, he expected. Darting from place to place, hiding in the shadows - he was stupid to think that he could have walked around London freely, even if he was dressed as a Muggle. Unless he could somehow change his appearance and blend in with the rest of the tourists, he would never make it - but he didn't have enough experience with human transfiguration and there wasn't any Polyjuice potion for him to disguise as someone else. The only things he had were a small amount of bronze, silver, and gold coins and an even smaller amount of Muggle money. But he could never get into Gringott's and go to Harry Potter's vault without being detected.

He was probably going to die out here.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cold brick of whatever building he had his back to. He tried to rethink what he had done today - he had left Privet Drive at midnight and wandered London since then. He explored the Muggle parts of the city, exploring monuments and things he hadn't even thought about since he had still gone to Muggle school. He had been busy contemplating what his plan of action should be. When the sun had started to go down and thousands of tourists were roaming the warm July evening streets, Harry had stuck himself in the thick of the crowd, assuming he would be safer than he really was. But he learned his mistake, and he now knew that going out in public anywhere at any time would be dangerous.

He put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. This was a mistake. But he wouldn't go back to Privet Drive now, and he wouldn't go asking anyone for help, especially not at the Burrow. They'd never let him go.

And Ron was probably there.

Harry shook his head. He couldn't think about this now.

What he needed to decide was where he was going to go. Could he find a tent and manage to live in the wilderness for as long as he needed to? But where would he get food? Could he find some old abandoned house or rent an apartment somewhere? No, he didn't have the money...

Of course! Harry glanced around him, as though suddenly afraid that people could read his thoughts. But he was safe, for now, because there was still no one in sight. He could go to Grimmauld Place. He doubted anyone would be there, and it was probably safe - from what Dumbledore had told him a year ago, it was still protected by the Order of the Phoenix but abandoned just in case. Yes, Harry thought. He had never wanted to enter that house again, but it was his best bet.

He raised himself to his feet and slung his bag over his shoulder. He began to gather the will he needed to Apparate, and was pretty close until something distracted him. The last thing he wanted to hear.

"There he is!" Harry groaned as he looked towards where the sound came from, and braced himself. They were taking out their wands and he was taking out his, but he still did not want to fight - so he ran.

But like before, he knew he would never last long. They were two experienced Death Eaters, and they were much bigger than him. Harry may have been somewhat athletic from all those long years playing Quidditch, but he still had difficulty running a large distance. And now, as he was sprinting down dark alleyways, he knew that he was in for trouble unless he could escape again and Disapparate immediately.

A jet of golden light flew over his shoulder, smashing the side of a building. Dust and debris flew all around Harry but he continued to run through the mess - he ran left down another alley and hoped that the same dust caused by the Death Eater's spell would distract the Death Eater himself.

No such luck. Harry didn't have to look over his shoulder to know where those thundering footsteps were coming from, so he turned sharply down another alley in this apparent maze. At the end of this one, he recognized an escape - a way into a crowded London street. As much as he wanted the Muggles out there to be safe and unaware of the existence of magic to keep harmony in his world, he felt he had no other choice but to run out and lose himself in the crowd.

The Death Eaters were still following and he heard them pushing yelling people out of the way as Harry used his reflexes to dart in between shopping Muggles. He pushed them out of the way with his wand in his hand, praying that neither of the two stupid Death Eaters would hurt any of the innocent people.

Reluctantly, Harry saw another alleyway and despite what his conscience was telling him, he darted down this one, running as fast as he possibly could. He just needed to lose the Death Eaters for long enough to Apparate, and he was hoping that he might get that opportunity here.

But when he skidded to a stop at the dead end created by three empty buildings, Harry knew he was in trouble.

Without hesitating, he turned around at lightning speed and shouted a curse at the two Death Eaters that he knew were approaching. Their reactions were slower but their curses were stronger, more dangerous, so Harry found himself practically dancing to avoid them. He yelled curse after curse and shouted Shield Charm incantations, only extending the time until he knew the inevitable would happen. And all the while, he was pushing an idea to the back of his mind, knowing it was foolish and would only get him in more trouble than he was already in.

But as hexes flew out of his wand, he began to know that what he had in mind might be his only option. He was only prolonging it, and if he waited too long he might not even have that option...

Sighing internally, he knew that it was his only chance at escaping. He couldn't afford a few moments of concentration to Disapparate, but hopefully he had enough practice that this would world.

Shooting one or two last spells at the Death Eaters, Harry willed all his power as fast as he could into turning into the form he had taken over a year ago, the Magikarp that had so surprisingly defeated Ron.

He could hardly see in this form, or at least he couldn't see much of what was happening around him - from his position on the ground he could see directly skyward, but he didn't even need that - his mouth as angled in the right direction and luckily, the Death Eaters had been so stunned that they had stopped shooting, their wands probably pointing down and their mouths gaping open.

Taking advantage of their stupor, Harry gathered all the energy he could, praying it worked – and then shot an enormous burst of cold water out of his Magikarp mouth and directly into the Death Eaters. He did this for as long as he felt might be necessary, and as long as he could hold it, and then he stopped, flopped back to the ground, and quickly transformed back into his Harry form.

He crouched, gasping for breath. That had taken a lot of energy, more than he had been prepared or expecting to exert, but he shook his hair out of his eyes and looked over toward the Death Eaters. They were both collapsed against a wall, but appeared to be breathing - knocked completely unconscious and maybe bleeding a little from where their heads hit the brick, but they were alive.

He stopped, and just stared at them. He was almost...confused, alarmed, shocked. Had he really done that? Even after a year of being an Animagus, of becoming one of the first people along with Ron to turn into an animal, his overwhelming amount of power was unbelievable. He could turn into a monster, even if it was just a stupid little orangey-red fish...and he was a new definition of 'don't judge a book by it's cover.'

Harry stood up fully, shouldering his bag, and storing his wand in his pocket before he stepped quickly past the unconscious bodies. If he waited here too long they could awaken and track him to Grimmauld place. But Harry knew that he couldn't Apparate now - he had used too much of his power, he would never be able to find the strength to do it without Splinching.

He quickly walked through the crowds of people, heading towards the suburbs where he knew Grimmauld Place waited, striding as fast as he could without looking like he wasn't just in a normal hurry to get somewhere like a lot of the tourists around him.

He was distracted enough by keeping himself looking casual, but there was one thing he couldn't get out of his mind: He had turned into an Animagus in front of two Death Eaters. Two of Voldemort's servants. He hadn't even preformed a memory charm on them - he wasn't good at those. Now those two servants of the Dark Lord would go and report on their findings - that Harry Potter could turn into some strange creation with more power than they had ever seen. They would describe what had happened, and instead of Voldemort shaking it off as those two idiots imagining things, Voldemort would take it as seriously as the prophecy.

Harry knew what would happen now. Voldemort would track down this power and take it for himself so that the Boy Who Lived couldn't beat him at something else. He would find Pokemon and control them, and he would wreak havoc on the entire Wizarding world and even just the entire world until there was nothing left but him and his power.

So as Harry quickly strode through the streets of London, trying to get to Grimmauld Place without taking any more note from Voldemort's forces, all he could do was worry about what the future of his world would be.