InsaneJournal

RP: Getting the Hell Out of Dodge
Date: 24 August 1997
Characters: Justin Finch-Fletchley
Location: London, Paris
Status: Private
Summary: Justin runs away.
Completion: Complete

Knowing he was doing the right thing for his family didn't help Justin feel any less guilty about this. His parents were going to be devastated when he came up missing, but it was better than learning he was in Azkaban for stealing magic, right? Well, it would be safer for them, at least, if they thought he'd just been kidnapped, or worse. Justin had turned a rather alarming shade of red when he'd read in the Prophet that he was wanted for questioning for doing that very thing along with Hermione, Dean, and the Creevey brothers. Fortunately it looked like they were just going after Muggle-born members of the DA for the moment. He'd made sure to burn all copies of the newspaper that he had in his possession. He'd also spoken in great detail about his plans for the day at dinner the night before. As far as his family knew, he would be leaving early to spend the day in Diagon Alley. He wanted them to think he'd gone missing in the Wizarding world.

He took a taxi to the street with the Ministry visitors entrance, being especially talkative. He'd made sure the driver knew his name, and spoken at great length about his family and such. Hopefully if the Ministry looked too closely it would appear that he'd at least attempted to keep his appointment today. Afterward he'd taken another taxi to St. Pancras station. This time he was much quieter and spent the trip looking down at his hands. Hopefully this driver hadn't got a good look at his face, in case it ended up on the news later.

He'd transifgured all of his Muggle identification. For the moment he was Johnathan Fletcher from Manchester. He was going as far as Paris today, wanting to be close by in case Megan decided to make a run for it too. A very large part of him hoped she would, it would be easier not to worry about her if she were right there. Maybe later he would go to Berlin, or Warsaw, or maybe Novosibirsk. He'd bet no one would think to look for him in Siberia.