Chapter Three – Better run away

Harry entered Privet Drive with great trepidation. He knew now that the memories still residing in Dumbledore's office were not fake. He still hadn't been able to tell Snape or the headmaster what they contained. Harry sighed. He was going to be thirteen soon. Julian could go hang himself, he would not let the man touch him again. Determined to make it through the following three months intact, he set about his usual routine of washing, cooking and cleaning as per aunt Petunia's instruction. It took Vernon only a few days to come out with the news that would change everything.

'Boy!' he shouted as Harry was kneeling and weeding in the backyard one afternoon. Harry looked behind his shoulder and then followed the beckoning finger into the house. Vernon pointed at the kitchen table and Harry sat down. Uncle Vernon remained standing 'We are going on vacation.'

Harry blinked and waited for the axe to fall.

'The company has graciously provided us with a vacation to the Bermuda's for my efforts' Vernon puffed out his chest a bit 'That is, your aunt, Dudley and me.'

Harry already resigned himself to have a prolonged stay at Mrs. Figg's, when Vernon delivered the death blow 'You will be staying with a colleague of mine.'

Harry stared at Vernon and choked 'Who?'

'Julian Fowler.', Vernon said, looking as if he doubted Harry even knew who that was. He didn't notice the blood draining from his nephew's face 'Great bloke. Heard about the company giving me the vacation and that it was family only, which of course excludes you. He offered to take you for the time. You should be grateful.'

With that Vernon turned around to leave the kitchen. Harry felt his arms burning as well as his eyes and scrubbed his hands up and down his forearms, before making a decision. He jumped up and grabbed his uncle's shirt to stop him. Vernon turned around, scowling down at him. Harry let go at once.

'Please…' he whimpered 'Don't leave me with him… He… he touched me.'

Vernon stared at him. Harry stared back. It seemed like he wanted to determine if the boy was saying the truth. Then he shook his head in a bemused way and simply said 'Back to the weeds, boy.'

It was that same night, that Harry heard his aunt and uncle arguing.

'Oh Vernon, please! That is absolutely ridiculous. He is making it up to destroy our vacation.'

Vernon gave a grunting noise. Hard to tell if it was a confirmation. Harry rubbed his forearms together and winced at the pain that flared up.

'And he came out with it after you told him about the vacation.'

'Well, he is certainly not coming with us, Petunia.' Vernon soothed 'I rather thought that mad neighbor of ours could take him… you know, the one with the cats?'

Harry could practically see aunt Petunia crossing her arms 'She is unavailable, I already asked. Come on, Vernon, since when do you believe the boy's incessant lies? He will stay with Julian, who is a perfectly respectable young bachelor, and we will go have a freak free time for a change.'

This time there was no question about it: Vernon's grunt was affirmative. And that was all Harry needed to hear. Determined not to get into Julian's clutches, even for a minute let alone weeks, he packed up a bag with his most treasured possessions. He congratulated himself on having given Hedwig to Hermione and his broom to Ron for safekeeping. He only had his school books and clothes left. As he would need new books next year anyway, he decided to leave those as well. His wand, a few clothes, his money and a bit of stolen food from the fridge would suffice.

Harry waited for his aunt and uncle to go up to bed, then waited a little longer, so they would be deeply asleep. Then he crept out of his room with his bag and left the house, never to return.

He made it to Wisteria Walk before he took out his wand, cursing his own stupidity. Voldemort was on the loose again, with his luck he would be lurking at the end of the street! But that did not happen, instead he heard a loud bang and fell over backwards. When he glanced up, his mouth fell open – the Knight Bus had arrived to get him safely to London.

Harry knew, if he stayed in the Leaky Cauldron he would be found out in about 15 Minutes. So he waited until a large group of people entered the pub and then followed in their wake to Diagon Alley. There he was happy to buy a few charmed lotions from an apothecary. Right behind the shop he started applying them, colouring his hair auburn instead of pitch black – the assistant had said it would last a week, before he had to reapply it – and hiding his scar with a vanishing spell that 'witches swear on!'. He had also gotten himself a tanning cream, that he spread generously on his face, hands and arms up to his elbows.

When he looked into a glass front, he was satisfied that no one who knew him would immediately make him out. And he still had more creams and potions in his bag for further transformation. But for now he was safe to walk through Diagon Alley. As it was late, there were not many people here at any rate. He slipped into Knockturn Alley and slowly made his way up to a dingy pub with smoky windows. Knockturn Alley was fuller than its sister street, Harry guessed that most people here liked to make their business in the safety of the night.

Harry entered the pub and went up to the old landlady, lazing about in the back. He had a plan made out already and for once his runty appearance helped him out a bit.

'Err… Madam.' The old woman looked up to him with a bored expression, he tried to look young and vulnerable 'I wanted to ask… Erm… Do you need help around here? I can do maid duty or waiter or assist in the kitchen…' He had this whole story about being an orphan and getting the Hogwarts letter, having no money and being thrown out by his relatives… But in the end the lady only stared at him and nodded.

'You can stay for free in the smallest room and get 10 sickles a day for helping around the pub.' She grunted, sounding very much like Vernon 'You will do all the work I say, mind you.'

Harry nodded vigorously and she told him where his room was. It was barely better than the cupboard under the stairs but it was enough until he could go back to Hogwarts. As it was, he settled into the room and soon began doing room service, dusting and helping in the kitchen. Seldom, he would be required to stand in for the waiter, as he went out to have a smoke or get lunch himself.

Harry earned enough money to buy his books and supplies without having to go to Gringotts. He got himself a new bag as well, with extension and featherlight charms on it. It was enough to stash all his belonging in now, as they were growing exponentially. He had left his bulky trunk in Surrey as well. Most of the space was occupied by the books of course. Additionally to the books, Harry had found a black journal at Dervish and Banges – making sure it did not write back. But Harry had also gotten himself some new clothes, that actually fit. He still had the two Weasley jumpers, so he only got himself a few nice second-hand shirts, a few warm pairs of socks and other winter gear for the frosting cold Scotland Christmas time.

Working on his essays, Harry frowned as he reached Divination. He would be taking up the subject next year and all teachers of elective subjects had given students test readings and essays to prepare for the coming year. Harry read the essay title and felt like he must have misread

'What do you wish for Christmas?'

What kind of stupid question was that? He was not in preschool, why did he have to answer this? He looked at the reading for Divination, that cleared his questions up a little. In the Divining Arts there was a phenomenon called 'Future Carving', it meant that true Seers could change the path of the future with their dreams and wishes alone. As a little test the students were required to write about what they wished to receive at Christmas and see if their wishing for it led to anything. Harry thought the whole thing quite idiotic, no amount of wishing had ever gotten him anything from the Dursleys after all. So he opted to write about a wish he knew would never come true:

'I want to have a parent for Christmas.'

Harry had finished his essays and sometimes, when the Pub was fairly empty, he got periods of free time. Harry would wander Knockturn Alley at daytime and explore all the shops. He was surprised to see that he was not the only child and that no adult ever asked him whom he was with. Just as the landlady, they did not ask questions and did not make it their business as long as you did not cross them. Harry came along a few interesting people in all shapes and forms. He watched street sellers giving out Wolfsbane potion around the full moon for horrendously high prices. But the really interesting thing was, when a boy his age spoke to him one day, giving him a little package with blue crystals in it.

'That's Blues, dissolve it in water and drink it. If you like the effect, come back next week, same time, same place.' With that he was gone in the mass of people streaming in from Diagon Alley. Harry stared at the small package and tried the strange substance as soon as he got home. And he experienced the most amazing dreams he had ever had. He had thought that fantasy with his father at the sea had been amazing. But this stuff got him dreaming about both his parents in a wonderful home, caring for him, loving him, laughing with him… being proud of him. He lost time. Hours on a stretch until the landlady would come banging at his door. Harry rather thought it was his former sleeplessness that caused the drug to take a severe effect on him. He had started getting horrible nightmares and Blues was the only thing that turned them into something bearable, even pleasant. The crystals were finished sooner than expected and the next week he stood at same corner. And as promised, same time, same place, the other boy met him with a grin. He sent a glance at Harry's forearms and said 'Knew you'd come back.'

It costs him almost all his earnings to get another bag. But it was so worth it, seeing his parents approve of his friendship with Hermione and Ron. Hearing them rant about the Dursleys. Telling him that they did not blame him for their deaths or Ginny's death. That is wasn't his fault Voldemort had returned. It felt like heaven. But too soon, Blues was finished again and Harry had to start saving money for his next bag.

Harry felt better with every week, as meals were included in his stay at the pub, even though Blues took a lot of energy. He mostly cooked his meals himself or ate from customers who hadn't touched their plate – that happened more often than Harry would have believed. But this was the difference between Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley. Most people who came to eat here, stuffed themselves and were gone before you could get a better look at them. Some of them would spot an enemy of some kind and bolt without touching their food. Harry and the waiter got to finish off those treats. As it were one day, John the waiter came into the kitchen and said 'Goin' for a smoke, Ben. Can you take the orders and stuff?'

Ben was Harry's alias and he nodded at John, before wiping his hands and going outside with the next order. He gave it to a lady wrapped in bandages from head to toe, with only a slit open for her mouth. As he turned away he saw a man, clad in black, raise his hand to pay. Harry nodded at the man in the distance and got the cashing bag from the counter. He went up to him and almost froze in shock, as he realized who it was. Snape was sitting there, casually counting coins in his palm to pay for his meal.

'That will be…' Harry's voice shook a little and he was more than grateful that it had begun to break this summer. He hoped that his professor would not recognize it. He glanced at the magical cashing bag, which showed the bill. He was yanked from his reverie, as Snape suddenly grabbed his arm and shook him. Harry gasped at the pain.

'Potter!', he hissed angrily, Harry looked up, ready to come up with his cover story but he never got that far. Snape plunged into his mind and Harry frantically started Occluding, which was more than a give away. He was glad, when Snape let go of his mind, as he was still holding Harry by the arm and it was hurting madly. 'What in Merlin's name are you doing here, stupid boy? We are searching for you everywhere!'

Harry hissed as Snape's fingers closed tighter around his forearm, he wriggled and Snape loosened his grip a little.

'I… couldn't stay… there…'

Snape stared at him incredulously. Harry didn't know what was happening but suddenly his vision was closing in. Before he knew it, he had collapsed all over Snape's lap, earning a curse word he couldn't make out any longer.