Chapter Text
The neighbourhood seemed cheery, too cheery, almost as if it was mockingly oblivious to Harry's current predicament. The air was calm, almost poetically contrasting with the storm brewing inside Harry as he fought to hold back his tears. Privet Drive was not his home. It never was, Hogwarts was. And yet he would now have to spend the rest of his life here, a prison more than a home.
"I will have to leave you now, Harry." Minerva's voice broke through his thoughts. "With Dumbledore gone, I have to take care of... the school."
Harry nodded. He felt overwhelmed by the fact that Minerva had purposefully avoided naming Hogwarts, to ease him from the tiniest amount of pain from adding to his already massive burden. She had become more of a maternal figure to him than Aunt Petunia ever was. She tried to make herself seem stern and strict, but she was the first parental figure Harry had had in a long time.
And then there was Dumbledore. The old Headmaster seemed to Harry like the grandfather he himself could never have. He thought he had time enough to get to know him closely enough, but he was so very wrong. Would he ever get to see them again? He knew that if Dumbledore had his way, he could spend the rest of his time at Hogwarts, if not as Hagrid's assistance, then in another position that would require little to no magic. But with Dumbledore gone...
And what about Hermione? Would she be alright? And who would take care of the monster? And would the Weasleys ever be able to come and visit him? A million questions were swirling in his head, overwhelming him and forcing him to bite his lip to hold back his tears. All of it, the perfect life he had envisioned, all his friends, his one true hope, all shattered with one man's words, simply because he felt like it. It should have been illegal to provide one person with so much power, but there was nothing he or absolutely anybody could do. It was cruel.
Harry snaps out of it. His thoughts are leading him places he’d rather not be.
Professor McGonagall was speaking. He could see her mouth moving… he could hear her. But he didn’t hear anything she said. It went in one ear and out the other, and McGonagall noticed.
She sighs, “I will be taking my leave, Potter. I hope the journey treats you fair.”
She leaves, and Harry stares after her. What did she say? He didn’t hear her… oh well.
He realizes what he must do. He gets up and walks to the house. The door was large and imposing. It never struck Harry back then… but now…
He had to knock, didn’t he? He should.
He raises his hand… but then stops.
Hesitation.
He needed to clear his head. He needed to talk to someone. Anyone.
Hedwig. Maybe that would help.
He goes back to his cabin and peers into Hedwig’s cage. He talks, and the bird hoots in response. Harry seems to understand her.
“Hey, Hedwig,” Harry begins, his voice low and thoughtful. “What do you think I should do? I can’t stay here, can I? But where do I go?”
Hedwig tilts her head and lets out a soft hoot.
“Yeah, I know,” Harry says, nodding. “It’s not like I have many options. But Dumbledore… maybe he can help. Maybe he can find me a place in the Wizarding World, at least. Or once he comes back, I might even be able to go back to Hogwarts and work!”
Hedwig hoots again, more emphatically this time.
“You’re right. To do that, I need to stay in the Wizarding World, or at least close to it,” Harry concludes. “Okay, Hedwig. I’ve made up my mind. We’ll go to Gringotts. We’ll start there, and see where it leads us.”
With a newfound resolve, Harry steps back from the door, turns around, and walks away without looking back.
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Harry really hadn't thought this through.
It was easy enough to decide to go to Gringotts, all the way in London. The problem was actually getting there. Thankfully, Harry found a very small amount of muggle cash, sitting in his trunk from god-knows-when. Just enough to pay for the train fare.
Harry got down at the station and immediately retraced his steps from two years ago. The memory was perfectly fresh in his mind, as though it was yesterday. The Leaky Cauldron, and more importantly, Diagon Alley right behind it, were Harry's first exposure to what a completely magical place looked like. It had been a treat of a lifetime, and he was sure he would never be able to forget it. Smiling slightly, he entered the pub where Tom, the old landlord, was busy wiping glasses.
"Good afternoon, Tom," said Harry brightly. He was glad the pub was currently empty of anyone who might stare at him and his scar.
"Good morning Harry," Tom said, and he went back to polishing the glasses. Then he stopped, looked back at him with a peculiar expression on his face, and rubbed his eyes.
Harry sighed. "Yes Tom, it's me, Harry Potter. I just came here to..."
Before Harry could finish, Tom came around the bar, grabbed Harry by the forearm, quickly shoved him into one of the rooms and entered it himself, closing the door behind him. Then he placed a dozen privacy and noiselessness charms before turning to Harry.
"What the hell ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
Harry recoiled in shock. "I only came here to get some money from Gringotts, and maybe get a room, so that I can stay here till Dumbledore gets back into his position and can get me a job at Hogwarts."
Tom stared at him, mouth hanging open, before he gave a low sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dammit Harry, you're gonna get yourself killed."
Harry was sure he heard wrong. "What?"
"Harry," Tom began slowly, his voice one of forced calm, "do you know WHY you've been expelled?"
"Because I speak Parseltongue, and Fudge has to be seen doing SOMETHING to get the situation under control, and I am potentially the Heir of Slytherin?"
Tom nodded. "For Fudge, his reasons end there. He sees you as a POTENTIAL threat, and has expelled you from Hogwarts in an attempt to save his image. If it does really solve the problem, only then will he take the next step against you. Unfortunately, not everyone is as patient and understanding."
Harry looked at him, face scrunched in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Some people won't wait for results to act, Harry. There are a number of people who already believe that you are the next Dark Lord, Slytherin's Heir, and they are planning to remove you from the equation before you ever become a problem."
Harry's blood ran cold at the thought. "THERE ARE PEOPLE TRYING TO KILL ME RIGHT NOW?!"
Tom nodded. "Remember that I run a pub, Harry. When people are drunk enough, they will easily tell you a lot of things they would otherwise prefer taking to their graves. Just yesterday I overheard a buch of half-drunk lads, planning how to find and kill you at a slightly higher volume than whispering. Drunk enough to lose control of their tongue, but sober enough to plan right. The only obstacle they were facing was that they had no idea where you actually live. Dumbledore, Fudge, Hagrid and McGonagall took the utmost care to make sure NOBODY ELSE knows where your residence is. And now that you're here, that problem has been solved."
All of a sudden, Harry felt very glad the pub had been empty, and that Tom was not one of those who thought of him as the next Dark Lord. "But where do I go? I have no money of my own.The only plan I had was to grab some money from Gringotts and stay at the Leaky Cauldron until Dumbledore got me back!"
Tom sighed, bit his lip, and left the room without a word. He returned a minute later with a nondescript black hoodie and face mask. "Use these. Get to Gringotts. I can't escort you or people might get suspicious. Keep your head down, avoid all eye contact, and don't talk to anyone. The goblins won't say anything, they will help you out quietly."
Harry's jaw nearly dropped. He swallowed and asked, "What if someone recognizes me?"
"They won't, Harry, trust me. Not if you do it right."
"Thank you Tom, I don't think I can ever repay you."
"You don't have to. Now go! Once you get the money, get it converted to muggle cash, and leave. You can stick close to this place, but don't enter it. Stick to the muggle world until the time is right."
Harry nodded and put on the hoodie. With one deep breath, he exited the pub and headed towards Gringotts. With every step, he felt as though he was being weighed down by a million fears in his head. He almost expected something to happen, someone to step out from the and strike him down with a wave of their wand at any second.
But it seemed luck was on his side. Nobody looked at him, nobody acknowledged his presence. Nobody even bothered looking at him twice.
After what seemed like a mile-long walk, he finally reached the steps of the massive white building. Then he completed the painstakingly long process of withdrawing his family fortune and having it converted into muggle cash. His senses went on high alert every time somebody came close to him. Fortunately for him, the goblins were right about being impartial to Harry and helped him through everything, even keeping their voices low when using his name. He thanked them again and again as he fastened the pouch with all of his money in it, and left the way he had come. He took his trunk, Hedwig on his shoulder, and gave a small nod to Tom, who acknowledged him in return. Then, he walked right out.
It was only when he was outside that he realized he had no idea about what to do next.
He would figure something out. He was sure of it.
