Order of the Phoenix: You Got Kidnapped, Robbed a Supermarket, and Fought a Drag Queen with a Wand? Part 4

Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot, his exhaustion almost palpable. “We got away from the detention centre, yeah. But we were still wearing the same bloody clothes, still carrying a bag of half-smashed cereal bars, and still had no clue what the hell we were doing.”

“We needed better supplies,” Daphne said matter-of-factly, arms crossed. “New clothes. Food that didn’t resemble battlefield rations. Somewhere we could pass for normal without getting the authorities breathing down our necks again.”

“So we went to a place that was big, anonymous, and busy enough that nobody would look twice,” Harry continued. “A place where people in weird outfits, carrying questionable backpacks, wouldn’t even crack the top ten weirdest things seen that day.”

“We went to Walmart,” Daphne said grimly.

There was a ripple of confused murmuring from the pureblood students.

“What’s a Walmart?” Blaise Zabini asked, sounding personally offended by the word.

“A gigantic Muggle market,” Hermione explained, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You can buy anything there. Food, clothes, furniture... cattle feed... firearms...”

“You’re joking,” Ron said, gawping.

“I’m really not,” Hermione muttered.

“So anyway,” Harry said, dragging attention back, “we sneak in. Stay low. Act casual. Split up to grab what we need.”

“We had a list,” Daphne added. “New clothes. Trainers. Cereal bars. Blankets. Bottled water. Anything portable and non-lethal.”

“I nicked a pack of socks,” Harry said proudly.

“Very heroic,” Daphne said, deadpan.

“And she... well...” Harry snickered slightly. “She discovered the joys of Muggle cosmetics aisles.”

“Survival gear,” Daphne corrected coolly. “Face wipes. Moisturiser. Sunscreen. Just because we were being hunted by sociopathic pureblood supremacists doesn’t mean I needed to look like death warmed up.”

Eric from the CSI team gave a snort of amusement but wisely kept his mouth shut when Daphne shot him a look that could've peeled paint.

“Everything was going fine,” Harry said. “We stuffed the bags full. Stayed out of the cameras' view. We were this close to walking out clean.”

“And then,” Daphne said, her voice flat with disbelief, “we ran into the two biggest planks of wood in America.”

“Steve and Linda,” Harry muttered like a curse.

“The social workers,” Daphne clarified. “Tracking us down like we were stray dogs who missed their shots.”

“They showed up with a security guard,” Harry said. “Pointed us out. Started yelling.”

“And we bolted,” Daphne said. “Again.”

“There’s a pattern forming here,” Tonks muttered under her breath.

“We made it as far as the car park,” Harry said, grimacing. “But it was packed. Tourists, shoppers, Muggles everywhere.”

“And then we made the mistake of hesitating,” Daphne said. “Just for a second.”

“They caught up,” Harry said. “Security grabbed my arm.”

“I hexed him,” Daphne said without a shred of shame. “Stunner. Light touch. He’ll wake up someday.”

There was a mixture of gasps and poorly concealed snickers across the Hall.

“We sprinted for the far end of the lot,” Harry said. “Scaled a wall. Got out of sight.”

“Lost the bags,” Daphne muttered bitterly. “Had to ditch them so we could move faster.”

“Everything we stole, gone,” Harry said, grimacing. “Back to square one.”

“Well,” Sirius said dryly, “at least you’re consistent.”

Harry smiled humourlessly. “Yeah. Consistently bloody cursed.”

“And that’s when we realised,” Daphne said, “we couldn’t stay in the city any longer. Every time we stopped moving, someone came after us.”

“We needed to find magic,” Harry said. “Real magic. Wizards. Anything.”

“And fast.”

Harry leaned back slightly as he spoke, his voice steady but laced with that rough edge of exhaustion. "So after we got away from Walmart, we hid out behind some dumpsters. Really glamorous, I know."

Daphne smirked faintly. "Our natural habitat at that point."

There were a few snickers from the students. Hermione looked faintly horrified; Ron looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cringe.

"We just kept moving," Harry said. "Kept our heads down. Found a park—FDR Park—and laid low for a bit. Figured it was safer to be somewhere open than trying to hide in alleyways."

From the side, Calleigh Duquesne was listening closely, arms folded as she leaned against the wall near Horatio Caine. They both exchanged small glances—no words needed. The situation was spiraling way beyond anything they had encountered before.

"In between raiding granola bars and pretending we had a plan," Daphne added dryly, "we realised we needed to get out of Philadelphia. Problem was, we had no money, no transport, and about as much energy as a dead Puffskein."

"So we started looking for trucks," Harry said. "Anything that might take us south."

Horatio Caine’s brow twitched slightly. He’d heard desperate kids talk about stowing away before, usually ending in disaster or a body bag.

"Eventually, we found a fruit lorry," Harry continued. "Driver had left it unattended at a petrol station."

"Just sitting there," Daphne said. "Back doors open. Destiny calling. Or, you know, a potential future court case for grand larceny."

There was a ripple of laughter from the Gryffindor table.

"We slipped in," Harry said, smiling a little despite himself. "Got ourselves tucked between crates of oranges and grapefruits. Smelled like someone had set off a citrus-scented bomb."

"And then we waited," Daphne said. "And waited. And nearly suffocated."

"You didn't think about how hot it would get?" Neville asked, wide-eyed.

"We didn’t think about anything," Daphne said. "Except not getting caught."

"Truck finally started moving," Harry said. "We figured we were home free. Heading south, maybe to DC, find MACUSA, get help."

"You ended up in Florida," Calleigh said, her voice calm but curious, cutting through the Hogwarts crowd's murmuring.

Harry shot her a tired smile. "Yeah. Not quite the plan. Woke up at a truck stop outside Miami."

Several students blinked. Luna nodded dreamily, as if Florida made perfect sense.

"We knew we were screwed," Daphne said. "Wrong direction, wrong city, wrong everything. But we couldn’t exactly hitch another ride wearing the same stolen jeans and looking like swamp trolls."

"So we rested," Harry said. "Got some water. Ate more raisins."

"And then decided to head toward the city," Daphne said. "Maybe blend in, find some help."

Ron looked sceptical. "You thought you could just blend in?"

"Better than sitting there waiting to be arrested again," Daphne snapped.

There was an awkward pause. Harry filled it quickly.

"We found a beach," he said. "Figured, at least there, we could pretend to be normal for five minutes."

"We sat there," Daphne said, her voice softer now. "Watched the sunrise. Ate what little we had left."

"And that’s when the Miami police found us," Harry said.

Horatio Caine remained silent, his sharp gaze fixed on Harry. Calleigh’s lips pressed together in a thin line.

"They asked a lot of questions," Daphne said. "Wanted to know who we were, what we were doing. They didn’t believe a word we said."

"Lieutenant Caine showed up," Harry said, nodding toward him. "Took us in, but... it wasn’t like before. He didn’t treat us like criminals."

Several of the Hogwarts students glanced toward Caine with a mixture of gratitude and wariness.

"He gave us food," Daphne said. "Water. Didn’t handcuff us to a bench or throw us in a cell."

"He asked questions," Harry said. "Not the kind that try to trip you up. More like... he was trying to work out if we were telling the truth without making us say anything we couldn't."

"You weren't very good at lying," Calleigh observed with a faint smile.

"No," Harry agreed, smirking. "Turns out exhaustion and hunger aren’t great for coming up with cover stories."

"And we could tell," Calleigh added. "There was something bigger. Something you weren’t saying. You were too clean for street kids. Too careful."

Daphne tilted her head. "Figured that out, did you?"

Caine simply nodded once. "We’ve seen enough lost children to know the signs. You weren’t running from home. You were running from something much worse."

The room fell silent.

"And when you tried to come up with your story," Calleigh continued, "it wasn't the usual 'bad home life' script. You were dodging specifics. Carefully."

"You knew we were lying," Harry said, more statement than question.

"We knew," Caine said. "We just didn’t know why."

"And honestly," Calleigh said, her tone gentler now, "we didn’t want to find out in the middle of a busy precinct. Especially not after you both started looking at the windows like you were planning an escape."

Several Hogwarts students looked guilty; more than a few recognised that same expression.

"So we gave you space," Caine said. "Watched. Waited."

"And then you did something we weren't expecting," Calleigh said, voice low and knowing.

"You used magic." Caine’s voice was matter-of-fact, but it carried enough weight to make half the students stiffen.

"You stunned the lights," Calleigh said. "Confused everyone long enough to disappear."

"But not from us," Caine finished.

Daphne gave a wry smile. "You two are annoyingly observant for Mugg—uh, for non-magical people."

"You don't survive long in our line of work without noticing what others miss," Caine said simply.

"And you didn’t panic," Harry said. "Even after seeing... that."

"No," Calleigh said. "We didn’t."

Harry and Daphne exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them.

"We owe you for that," Harry said at last. "For not treating us like freaks."

"You’re not freaks," Caine said, and somehow, the way he said it made it sound like an undeniable truth.

"Just kids," Calleigh added. "Running from something bigger than yourselves. Trying to survive."

Harry swallowed hard.

"That’s when we knew," Caine said. "We had a choice. Pretend none of it happened. Or help."

"And you chose to help," Daphne said quietly.

Caine's mouth twitched into the barest ghost of a smile. "We chose right."