Chapter 2
Percy risked a look out the window and watched the land fly by. He was sitting in a deserted train compartment headed towards the North Sea. He had two layovers before he reached his destination, but he believed in himself. So long as he stuck to his animagus form— which followed him into his past, thankfully— no one could possibly stop him from his goals. A wandering ten year old would surely be questioned, but a small orange kitten? So long as he wasn’t seen, he was fine.
Crawling back under the seat again, he prepared himself for the next 8 hour trip. Around his neck hung a small expanded pouch he had thrown together before he left, which contained some food, some stolen money he felt guilty over, his wand, and one more thing he was trying hard not to think about.
The very first thing Percy had done was to take a trip on the knight bus to pay a visit to his family vaults. The goblins had looked at him judgmentally, but he had the key, and he was on the list, and so they’d let him in anyways. His parents had added him during the war, while all their friends were dying around them. It had come in handy today.
Within the vault lay his wand, an old friend. In his past life, he’d lost the old thing to the war. It had been a good excuse to get a new one, made just for him. The first one was nostalgic, however, and as he had picked it up, he made a promise to keep it safe this time. It worked just as well with Percy’s magic as it had the first time around.
He had taken a bit of money too, just to get through this trip. The last thing he had grabbed was a little yellow raincoat he had found amongst the junk and family heirlooms. It was a great find, and would prove invaluable in his mission.
From there, it had been simple to get from Gringotts to the train station. He’d just left through the muggle entrance as a kitten, and walked down the roads he knew by heart from his first life. It took him some time to map his way to his destination, but he managed eventually, and only had to answer a few questions as to where his parents were.
The first train left at six, and Percy had snuck on and made his way to an empty compartment.
It took 11 hours to get to the North Sea. He ate through all his food, and was still hungry. That wasn’t good, as it would take longer to get to his real destination, and there was no stops for food there. Percy cast a small disillusionment on himself and switched trains twice to get to the closest town, as it was much easier to switch trains with human legs than it was with tiny kitten legs. His magic felt a bit wobbly, but no one gave him a second thought, so he supposed it was fine. He would have to practice some.
In his past life, as a child he had once travelled all the way to the muggle side of Ottery St. Catchpole, and cast a series of the strongest spells he knew with this wand. Out of sight, of course, but away from the magical community all the same. The ministry had never found out. The trace was, after all, only put on new wands, and this wand happened to be very old. Furthermore, the previous owner had graduated from Hogwarts. So if there ever was a trace put on it, it had already been removed upon their graduation.
Percy walked to the beach as a kitten, stumbling his way along until he hit the grassy hills that meant he was close to sand. He climbed over those as a boy, figuring he wouldn’t be seen as suspicious then, even without a family around. For all the surrounding people, and more importantly the police, knew, he was just a local boy headed towards the beach to play. He carried the pouch in his pocket and the rain jacket over his arm. Percy hoped it wouldn’t look strange, as he was already wearing a jacket, and the yellow one was much too small for him.
‘It’s for my little brother!’ He planned to say if anyone asked. ‘He’s with my mother down the way.’ No one did ask, but he was prepared anyways.
It took him a while to find what he was looking for. There was no one around, thankfully. Percy cast a homium revelio regardless, an old habit from the war. It showed nothing. He cast animagius revelio as well, for good measure. Nothing, again. He turned to his target, a large piece of driftwood. It was long and smooth. Percy studied it intently, learning the shape and size of it, looking at every little groove, every knot.
He pulled out his wand and cast the spell, imagining it changing, bit by bit. Watching as his imagined changes came to life and the wood warped and turned into a boat with two rows and a sail, perfect for sailing across the sea. The sail was the hardest part, as the wood had to turn to fabric, wherein the rest of it just stayed wood. Percy wondered if it was waterproof. He would only need it for one small journey, so he supposed it didn’t matter.
It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t graceful. But it was functional.
Percy pushed the boat out into the sea. Panicked movement came from the pouch in his jacket pocket. Percy squeezed it a bit and climbed into the little boat. He had done this too, in his previous life. His days as a spy had him doing many illegal tasks. When Marcus Flint, his old friend, was arrested and put into Azkaban, only Percy was willing to break him out. It had been the same plan then as it was now. Transfigure a boat, sneak on as a cat— now a kitten— find the prisoner and get back off using the same boat.
Technically, there were wards which kept people out of Azkaban, but a simple point me could get Percy right up to them, and they did not account for animagi. Last time, Marcus had had to be put into a little pouch just like the one in Percy’s pocket. Though, the pouch he had created last time was far more sophisticated than this one. This one was just a random pouch he happened across in the house, with a few runes hastily painted inside.
But it was enough to keep Peter Pettigrew inside, and that was all that mattered.