Harry, unwilling to question the amount of accidental magic that had blessed him so far, was quick to assess his ability to pass unnoticed in the wizarding world. Unfortunately, Dudley's baggy trousers would probably be a dead giveaway to his identity. Harry had never seen an adult wizard wearing trousers, and only a few muggleborns hung onto them past their first year. Figuring his uniform would be a better bet, Harry carefully cracked open his trunk, bracing it against the stable brass pole so he wouldn't go sliding and spill all his earthly possessions over the Knight Bus.

After jimmying out a faded black work robe, Harry looked around to make sure nobody was watching too closely, and quickly ripped off his shirt before shoving the robe on over his head. He slid out of his oversized trousers, and stood up to make sure his oversized trainers weren't peeking out under his hem. Thankfully, though rather sadly, Harry hadn't grown a bit since the end of term. If he didn't hit a rogue patch of wind, no one would notice his distinctive shoes.

He was just shoving his wrinkled, oversized clothes back into his trunk when Stan appeared with a kettle of hot chocolate. Harry offered to hold the cup for Stan, as he seemed to be having a bit of trouble with the violent jerks of the bus as much as any of the muttering patrons were. Still, a fair bit of the chocolate was slopped on Harry's pillow before he managed a full cup.

"Sorry 'bout tha' Neville," Stan said as he mopped up a bit of the pillow with a copy of the Daily Prophet, managing to grind in the stain as well as smear the clean bits of the pillow with newspaper ink. Harry could just imagine Aunt Petunia's reaction to such stains, and manfully held back a wince.

"No problem," Harry contemplated flipping the pillow over so he could have a bit of a lie down, but decided to wait until Stan had returned to the front.

"Now, where will you be wanting to go?" Stan asked.

"I er- London? Maybe Gringotts?" Harry thought he might as well check to see how much gold he had before he decided on an alternative wizard career.

"S'not open til the morning. If you want we can bump you to the back of the queue so you can get off in the mornin?" Harry didn't quite sigh with relief, but it was a near thing.

"That would be perfect, thanks!" And for the first time since Marge had arrived, Harry smiled.

Sleeping on the Knight Bus was a dangerous business, but Harry had slept through worse. Well, not really. He'd never actually got to sleep the night that Hagrid arrived to deliver his letter, and while living in a cupboard was non-ideal, it wasn't really fair to call it worse than the Knight Bus. Sure, there were spiders, but they were mostly non-lethal and didn't cause the ground to slide out from under him.

He woke up as the beds were being changed out for mismatched sofas and squashy chairs. He was glad to see the crusty pillow behind him. Making sure his things were still safe, Harry made his way to the front of the bus, tugging his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage along with him.

Stan noticed him almost immediately, abruptly halting a story that seemed to involve more fruit than was quite ordinary. "Ne-heh-ville!" He tried to stifle a yawn with his entire arm. "We've gotta pop down to Fugglestone St. Peter to drop off Missus Jenkins, an' then we'll get yeh to Gringotts in time for opening."

Harry, stifling a yawn of his own, tried to smile in gratitude. "Cheers then," he said, and stood awkwardly, not wanting to lug his trunk back to a seat, but feeling intrusive by hovering next to the driver. Stan gave Harry another polite smile, pointedly looking forward instead of resuming his conversation, and Harry nudged his trunk backwards, scooting with it against the inertia of the crazy ride. He managed three feet before he had to brace himself for Mrs. Jenkin's stop.

An older woman in a frankly worrying amount of shiny green dragon hide leather elbowed past him, nearly decapitating him with her matching handbag. Harry was joined by both Stan and Ernie in staring after her for a long moment. Then Ernie pulled the doors shut and they were off with a bang.

Harry had the benefit of daylight to truly appreciate how terrible wizard drivers were. Several mailboxes and shrubberies hopped out of their way, and several dozen commuters failed to notice their close encounters with a giant purple bus.

Somehow, they squeezed through a barrier to Knocturn Alley, an entrance Harry had never seen before, causing wizards and witches to plaster themselves to the buildings to avoid a messy death at the wheels of the Knight Bus. The bus lifted onto two wheels and teetered dangerously as it made the sharp turn into Diagon Alley and fell to a halt outside the neat marble facade of Gringotts.

Harry departed on wobbly legs, waving good bye to Stan and Ernie, who waved back at him half heartedly, once again stifling yawns. The Knight Bus fairly disappeared in a BANG, leaving Harry alone in front of the wizard bank, ready to attempt to find his own way in the world.

Harry breathed in a moment, steeling himself, before he was attacked by a mass of white feathers. "Hedwig!" He exclaimed, relieved to no longer be abandoned. "How did you find me?"

Hedwig ruffled her feathers, perching herself more comfortably on his arm and nipping at his hair as if to say, 'You doubted my superior hunting abilities?'

Harry laughed a little at her pride, conceding her point. She'd never lost him before, after all. "I've got to go into the bank now," He informed her. "Do you reckon you should go in your cage for a bit while I talk to the goblins?"

Hedwig stared at him for a few moments, then sidled up to his shoulder, giving every impression of refusing her cage all together. Harry shrugged, not particularly bothered to try to get her into her cage after the summer she'd had so far, and figured that wizards had to have done weirder things than striding into the bank with a trunk under one arm and a bird riding the other.

As he strode with borrowed confidence, Harry noted how many witches and wizards completely ignored his presence in the bank. The goblins' eyes still followed him with narrowed suspicion as he approached the desks. "I'd like to visit my vault," Harry said in a low voice, not sure how much information he had to provide.

"Do you have your key?" The goblin asked.

"Er yes." Harry realized that he probably should have got that out before his turn arrived. He crouched on the ground, feeling around inside his trunk for the small bag with his key in it. Hot tingles rushed up his neck and chest, spikes of sweat prickling out under the neck of his robe as he kept coming up with socks and books. Finally, his hand brushed something velvety, and Harry yanked, hoping he didn't have anything embarrassingly velvet in his trunk. Not that he could think of anything else he owned that was velvet. Luckily, it was his vault bag, and his key was securely inside it. Harry presented it with an awkward flourish of his hand and an aborted gesture towards fixing his hair.

"Slipshod!" The goblin barked, his gravely voice sending shocks through Harry despite his two previous encounters with such customer service.

A small, possibly younger goblin appeared with a lamp to escort Harry to his vault. Harry locked his trunk back up and hefted it once again, arm just barely starting to shake a bit. The goblin led him without asking any question or giving any verbal instructions. Once they'd reached the carts, the goblin merely gestured at an area in the back that Harry hadn't noticed before, where personal items could be stowed. The goblin waited silently in the cart while harry secured his things and settled himself.

"Watch yourself," the goblin finally spoke, "and your bird."

Before he could encourage Hedwig to perch on his lap, the cart was off, almost instantly dropping into the abyss. Hedwig dug her talons into his shoulder a bit, but on the whole seemed to enjoy the ride as much as Harry did, occasionally allowing her wings to catch the air streaming past Harry's face.

They reached the vault eventually, Harry feeling a hundred percent more awake and with several new holes in his body. The Goblin led the way to the vault, holding his hand out and demanding "Key please," when Harry reached the door.

Harry fumbled to untie the key from its secure string, and handed it to Slipshod. Inside the vault was still the mountains of gold, because thankfully expulsion does not include a mandatory fee or any other such unpleasantness. Harry scooped a few more handfuls than usual, not sure how much money he would need. He wasn't sure where wizards lived when they weren't in school, and he wasn't sure he could ask Hermione without admitting that he'd been expelled. Ron might be able to help, but he was in Egypt, and his dad worked for the ministry, so maybe he'd be obligated to turn Harry into the wizard coppers if he knew where he was.

With that dreadful thought, Harry grabbed another handful of gold.