Chapter 1
Harry awoke from his sleep drowsily; he looked at his clock and barely managed to see the red block letters, 5:00 a.m. One more hour before one of the Dursleys (namely, dear Aunt Petunia) come and bang on his door to interrupt his 'peaceful' sleep.
How he wished he was at the Burrow, where there are late mornings, wonderful meals (thanks to Mrs. Weasley and her magic), and Quidditch. Especially Quidditch; he missed Quidditch, every time he's on the pitch it feels like a dream, that it's the only time he could relax and just feel the wind against his face. Every time Harry spot the tiny golden Snitch (a bewitched walnut painted gold in this case for there are certain limits to the Weasleys' money…), flitting around, he dives and feels the tenseness, the exhilaration, the swooping sensation, and the excitement of the crowd while they cheer and whoop for him (Harry!). The crowd is focused on him, watching his every move, their breath held, waiting to see what happens…
He looked back at his clock (5:29), and decided to get his last half an hour of blissful sleep before his monster of an aunt comes and wakes him up. His eyelids were heavy, and sleep got the better of him. In a moment, he was dozing once more.
BANG BANG BANG BANG
Harry's poor, already-crumbling door suffered the impact of Aunt Petunia's (deadly) broomstick. He pushed himself up groggily.
"Shit," Harry muttered, "and I was just getting some sleep."
"WAKE UP AND COOK BREAKFAST!" came Aunt Petunia's shrill voice through the door. "I EXPECT YOU TO BE READY and down here in 20 seconds or else!!!"
Harry, who was used to threats like this coming from his aunts mouth, got up and dressed quickly. "POTTER!!!!! YOU
GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!!!" Uncle Vernon yelled upstairs.
Harry sighed and hurried down the stairs to find his red-faced uncle looking at a small owl that had apparently just flown straight through the open window and landed on top of the kitchen counter (the cause of his unnecessary fury, as he hadn't had a good first impression of the owls since they had flooded his house with 'those Hogwash letters').
"I SWEAR IF I SEE ONE OF THOSE RUDDY OWLS FLY IN THIS HOUSE AGAIN, I WILL WRING THEIR BLOODY NECKS!"
Harry stared at Uncle Vernon's large, beefy face.
"Sorry, it won't ever happen again, sir," Harry said, holding back his tendency to roll his eyes.
Even if he knew full well that it wasn't his fault that the owl flew in, he was going to try to be nice this time and not start and argument. He then walked over to the small, excited owl fluttering about (which he recognized as Ron's owl, Pig) and looking pleased with himself for sending the letter. After he had calmed the owl down, he took the letter from its beak, with the Dursleys watching his every move.
Uncle Vernon broke the silence and said, "You'd better get that damned owl out of this house or-"
Harry cut Uncle Vernon off: "I'll bring it upstairs."
He started up the stairs with Pig in one hand and the letter clutched in the other. He looked back over his shoulder just in time to notice Aunt Petunia's new broom, there was something familiar about it. It had a smooth handle, and it was carved perfectly, he didn't know that Aunt Petunia bought a new broom, the Dursleys were usually too stingy to buy anything unless it was absolutely needed, or a present for their son Dudley. But he took a closer look and saw, at the end of the handle were shiny gold letters:
Firebolt
Aunt Petunia followed his gaze and saw him looking at the Firebolt.
"That's right, and if you dare do anything mischievous, I'll break your precious broomstick in HALF!" she sneered.
"Give it back," Harry said quietly, although he knew that she wouldn't.
"Why should I? You've been a bad boy and you need punishing, I'll give it back when you're behaving like the angel Dudley is, right Duddykins?"
Aunt Petunia looked over at the fat blond boy who was lying lazily on the couch watching TV. Dudley merely grunted at his mother and went back to watching his all-time favorite show, "Ninja Turtles".
Harry forced himself to turn away from them and resume his walk up the stairs. He clenched his fists until they were white. That bitch will pay when I'm old enough to use my wand outside Hogwarts, Harry thought menacingly. But he managed to control himself, and walk shakily up the rest of the stairs.
He went to his room and closed the door tightly. Then he put Pig in Hedwig's empty cage. He ripped open the letter and started reading the small, neat handwriting that had to be Hermione's.
Dear Harry,
Hello! I hope you're having a wonderful summer, how's your aunt and uncle?
And here, Ron added (with his messy and big handwriting) something.
I really hope those muggles are treating you right, mate, I look forward to seeing you! By the way, do you know that Hermione stoped writing to Vikt
Something was scribbled out here. He pictured Hermione jamming her elbow into Ron's stomach to keep him from writing something… Harry grinned, but he knew, Ron had wrote enough to get the message across. Hermione had stopped writing to Viktor Krum it seems, well, there's always an end to everything, Harry thought to himself. He read on; Ron's messy scrawl was replaced by Hermione's tiny writing.
Oh, ignore that Harry. So we were wondering if your aunt and uncle could maybe send you to London? We can maybe meet at Diagon Alley. Well, send us a reply as soon as you can.
Your Friends,
Hermione and Ron
Harry quickly grabbed a quill and scribbled a reply on the parchment.
Fine with me.
He gave it back to Pig and sent it off on its way. Of course, he still had to talk to the Dursleys about this and he didn't want to go back down there, especially since his uncle just yelled at him. But he had no other way to get to London, and the Dursleys should be glad that he's leaving for half the summer. Besides, Aunt Petunia still had his broomstick and he needed to do something to get it back…
Later, Harry had finally gathered up the courage to go down and tell the Dursleys. He would really rather go outside and meander around, looking at shrubs and bushes than go and confront the Dursleys about this, but he knew he had no choice. He couldn't afford losing to the Slytherin Quidditch team on one of those stupid Cleansweeps. He got as far as the 2nd step down the stairs when Uncle Vernon looked up from his newspaper.
"Whaddaya want boy?" Uncle Vernon growled.
"Um, my friends were wondering if I could meet them in London next week and I was wondering if you could send me there…"
Harry could tell that Uncle Vernon wanted him to leave as soon as possible, but he didn't want to send Harry to London.
"And I also need my broomstick back for school," Harry said.
"Alright, but you have to ask your aunt for the broomstick, she's the one who has the ruddy broomstick."
"Ok."
Harry left and walked into the garden where Aunt Petunia was admiring her flowers. She looked up as he walked towards her.
"What do you want now???" Aunt Petunia said in an exasperated voice, making it sound as if Harry had been bothering her the whole morning.
"Well, I'm leaving for London in a week to meet my friends, but I need my broomstick back for school."
"Well, you can leave, but the broomstick stays."
"But-"
"No," Aunt Petunia said firmly, "I-I've already burned it!!!"
"Give it back, NOW."
"NO. Don't you dare use that voice with me- interrupt me one more time, boy!!!- and you're not going to get broomstick back if I can help it!"
And she could help quite a lot, but Harry was starting to get impatient, and he demanded that she show him where the broomstick was or he'd hex her.
"You wouldn't dare!!" Aunt Petunia laughed her regular I-don't-think-so laugh. But she needn't argue anymore, for Uncle Vernon had walked outside just in time to hear Harry's threat. He opened his mouth to say something in rage (his face already turning into a nasty shade of barf), but Harry had already rushed past him and ran upstairs, packing everything within 2 minutes. With a wand in hand, he quickly rushed down the stairs again to find his uncle blocking the sink cabinet. His uncle eyed his wand, but didn't budge.
"You're not getting that ruddy broomstick!!!" Uncle Vernon yelled, revealing the location of the broomstick.
"Move aside," Harry said, breathing heavily.
"No! You DARE do that to your aunt?!?!?! I'm not sending you anywhere! You're staying in your room-"
Harry laughed quietly.
"You really think I'm staying here? Step aside and no one gets hurt," Harry said, this time more fiercely.
It wasn't like Harry to do this, but he couldn't bear the thought of staying in this house one more minute. He quickly opened his mouth to say "Stupefy!" but no words came out. He knew he would be in trouble for casting a spell outside school, so he hesitated, and then decided against it.
So… Why not solve this the easy way? He grinned (despite the current situation he was in), and flung his heavy suitcase at the cabinet where his uncle was standing (how could they possibly hide his precious broomstick in a sink cabinet?). His uncle yelped and leaped aside a fraction of a second before the suitcase smashed into the cabinet, full force. The cabinet door was smashed into several pieces, (the water tube in the cabinet breaking in the process), and Harry ducked under the water to grab his broomstick from under the small, wood splinters.
Harry took his suitcase and rushed out the open door. His heart was pounding against his chest and his back ached from running with his suitcase full of magical spellbooks, ingredients, and (of course), his robes, but he kept running and didn't look back until he was out of Privet Drive. Harry couldn't believe he had just run away… AGAIN. He ran away a couple times before, but now that tempers are running higher than usual, he got into fights with Uncle Vernon more often than ever before.
He was tiring quickly from the run, so he sat down on the middle of the road, too tired to walk to the sidewalk. He held his broomstick tight in one hand, and suddenly, an idea sparked in his mind. He could tie the suitcase and the birdcage to the broomstick and ride to London, but there were flaws to the plan. First of all, it was pretty dangerous, (how the hell am I going to ride all the way to London with a 50-pound suitcase and a birdcage that takes up half as much space as the bird???) many people could possibly see a teenage boy riding a broomstick like a witch with a huge suitcase and an empty birdcage tied to it… Second, he didn't really know where London was, he never really got there by broomstick. He sighed and sat back down on the sidewalk, hitting himself for being so stupid and dwelling on the idea for even a split second.
But… Speaking of an empty birdcage… WHERE'S HEDWIG?! Would she know that I went to London? What would the Dursleys do if she showed up in my room with a rat…? Harry thought frantically, he couldn't go back to the Dursleys they'd just about slit his throat if he showed his face anytime between now and next year. And he wasn't sure if Ron and Hermione had Hedwig, because Hedwig sometimes hung out with them for a couple days. He knew he had no choice but to go on without the snowy owl, he just had to hope that Hedwig would find him, or she would be with Ron and Hermione. He didn't feel comfortable moving on without Hedwig, but he couldn't hang around here forever. He had one week to get to London. Now he had to figure out HOW to get there…
By the time Harry had awoken, night had fallen, he had accidentally gone to sleep while thinking about how to get to London, but he WAS exhausted from his recent incident involving the Dursleys… It wasn't a problem, Harry muttered, "Lumos." And the tip of his wand glowed yellow. He stuck his wand out and looked around him. He was still there in the middle of the street. And it was surprising that nobody hit him with a car, they must have gone around them because they didn't want anything to do with a street boy. Then, he sat back down, forgetting that he was still in the middle of the street, feeling extremely tired…
"Almost hit the poor guy!"
"Right smack dab in the middle of the street, but luckily, we stopped just in time."
Harry woke up to find that he was laying in a nice soft bed with clean white sheets. He opened his eyes and saw Stan, the driver of the Knight Bus and a bunch of others crowded around him.
"He's awake! 'Arry! Is that choo? Long time since we last met, eh? So err… What choo doin' in the middle of the street sleeping? We nearly hit choo!" Stan exclaimed.
"Hey Stan! Ummm… How'd you get here?" Harry asked, he didn't remember doing anything to summon the Knight Bus.
"Choo stuck out your wand dincha?"
"Oh yeah…" Harry hadn't realized that when he was sticking out his wand with a light to see around him, he was really flagging down the Knight Bus.
He stood up unsteadily and gave Stan 11 sickles. Stan hesitated, then handed it back.
"No, use it for something else!" Stan said to Harry and smiled.
"No, really, it's alright."
But Stan refused the money, and shoved it back into Harry's hands, so he didn't have a choice, other than to take the money. Harry told him, "London."
BANG
In a second, they were rolling along through a peaceful, serene neighborhood then
BANG
Next thing he knew, they were bumping along a rocky road-
BANG
Once again, Harry was thrown into his bed as the Knight Bus lurched into a whole new town. (The familiar feeling of uneasiness filled his stomach as the eggs he had for breakfast threatened to force their way back up through his throat.)
He remembered the Knight Bus. It had been some 4 years since he took it last, but he still remembered it (and the feeling that went with it). He allowed himself a grin as memories of Aunt Marge's dress almost bursting off her inflating body flooded his mind.
Within 15 minutes, they had arrived at London. Harry awkwardly got off the bus and walked to the Leaky Cauldron where the secret entrance to Diagon Alley was. He managed to walk past the people without them noticing the "famous Harry Potter", (miraculously) by keeping his head low. He started counting the familiar bricks on the solid wall and after tapping the wall with his wand, he stepped back and the bricks moved aside to reveal a magical place that still awed many every year, a place bustling with activity: Diagon Alley.