(A/N): Wow, I was pleasantly surprised by the positive feedback; over 140 follows on the first chapter (tough act to follow). So here comes the second chapter. Review to give me your thoughts, and if you enjoyed it, please Follow and Favorite!

Also, I'm looking for a Beta. A bit for spelling and grammar, but more so to, er, Britishize some of the dialogue and such. I'm just no good at it. :-(

Edit: Fixed some grammar and spelling mistakes. Also added a bit to make clear why Harry has a little... incident near the end when trying out a new power.

(2 weeks later, early June 1988)

Over the past two weeks, Harry had begun to acclimate to his new environment - the district of Brixton in southern London - but he was running into a certain issue rather frequently. Thanks to a photograph of St Matthew's Church he sneakily tore out of a library book at school, he was able to Squish to the location a couple of weeks previously. When he had first arrived at the back of the then-empty church between a number of trees, he wasn't sure what to think of the building. It was made of some kind of funny white rock and had a number of columns running across the part of the building Harry appeared at. Some of his schoolmates had often spoke of going to church, but the Dursleys had never taken him to one. He wasn't even sure if they were part of the Church of England.

After sneaking around the church property to look for occupants and waiting until the the night had progressed a bit more, Harry had snuck into the church with the use of a couple of Squishes to get past gates and closed windows. Finally, after sneaking around in the darkened church for a few minutes, Harry was able to find a closet used to store a number of cleaning materials such as brooms, mops and a few different sprays. To prop up his head, Harry took out a few pairs of shirts and sweaters to mush together into a makeshift pillow, while Dudley's old, large winter coat served as his blanket. Many children would find the arrangement unbearable, but it wasn't much different than his bedding in his old cupboard.

If the Dursleys had given Harry one thing, it was the ability to wake up at the slightest bit of sound so that he could avoid increasing their… displeasure at his "rebel nature". Harry stirred at the sounds he heard outside. It sounded like quite a number people walking down the hall and talking animatedly about something or other; the sound was muffled. Not willing to take a chance at being caught, Harry quickly stowed away his clothing in his backpack and Squished back outside to the spot he appeared at the night previous.

Appearing outside, Harry could tell it was early in the morning, probably a little before 7 a.m. given the sun was just peeking over the horizon.

'Let's get to work,' Harry thought. Ever since he had discovered photographs were enough to let him Squish to the place he saw, Harry had wanted to purchase a camera to make it easier to keep a log of places he could transport to when he needed to get moving in a hurry.

Spotting a store selling cameras after walking a few blocks. Given how early it was, Harry wasn't that surprised to see that it hadn't yet opened. Acting quickly, Harry ducked into a nearby alley and focused on the interior of the store.

When the compression he had long since gotten used to ended, Harry found himself in the semi-darkness of the closed establishment. It took a few moments, but he was able to find the Polaroids. With their capacity to make instant photographs (as touted on the store display next to the cameras), they were just the sort of thing Harry needed.

'How am I going to hold all these photographs?' he thought, before spotting a stack of small photo albums down the aisle.

After placing the stolen goods in his backpack, Harry quickly teleported back to the alley and made his way to the streets proper, feeling pretty good about his plan so far.

It was only then that he found himself paralyzed. What was his plan? He had thought for so long about how to stay away from the Dursleys that he hadn't given much thought about what he would do once he had. It was one thing to wish to be free, but another thing entirely to know what to do with it. Freedom of choice was a pretty new concept to him, and it made him nervous about what to do. Now that he could stop and look around, everything seemed so big, he was at a loss.

"Maybe I should get some food," he said. He hadn't eaten anything since the small dinner the Durselys had given him the night before. It took about 20 minutes of walking about aimlessly to find somewhere to take food from, but he managed to spot a small street that had a number of stands selling foods of all sorts out in the open. There were mostly fruits and vegetables stacked and displayed at the various stands, though a few had strange meats Harry had never eaten before.

Feeling an apple or two was in order, Harry weaved through the crowd of people at the marketplace until he found a decent hiding spot between a few trees off to the side. After making sure no one was watching him, Harry raised his right arm and directed it at a black container that had bunches of apples within it nearly spilling over the top. Harry took a few deep breaths and concentrated on two of the apples on top as he felt his magic come aid.

'Come on, get those two apples, I'm starving…'

Unfortunately for Harry, while the apples did fly toward him, they weren't doing so gracefully by any means and sped at him like a thrown dodgeball. The first smacked him in the forehead, which thankfully knocked him onto his back and allowed him to avoid the second apple from doing more damage.

Harry rubbed his head and groaned in irritation. "Why can't this magic stuff be easy?" he complained to no one in particular. He picked up the apples and began to eat one, much to the satisfaction of his grumbling stomach. However, he heard a familiar popping sound that made his hairs stand on end.

Looking toward the source of the sound, he spotted them about 30 feet to the right in an empty alleyway. It was the strangely dressed people from before, the ones who would get rid of whatever magic he left out after practicing.

'Oh come on, these guys are no fun at all,' Harry complained. Harry was about to Squish back to the church when he overheard a couple of the people dressed in strange uniforms speak to each other as they searched for him.

"Fan out and find the kid who used the Summoning Charm," one of them said to another.

Another replied, "Do you think it's the one Shacklebolt mentioned?"

The initial speaker shrugged his shoulders. "No clue, Kingsley was awful tight-lipped about who it was, he just told me that his mystery kid was the one leading Marcus's group on wild goose chases. Either way, someone underage was Summoning around here."

A third voice, a woman this time, said "Isn't it strange though? The Trace should pick up who it was, shouldn't it?"

"Not if it was Accidental Magic. The detection spell the Ministry uses to find accidental magic uses is less accurate and can't identify the user, since they aren't registered as magic done with wands is. All wands are registered with the Ministry, so we know who owns them and when underage magic is cast. Now enough dawdling, find them!" he commanded.

Harry had heard enough and quickly Squished to the church from earlier. After settling down on a nearby bench to continue eating his apple, Harry began to mull over what he had heard.

'Those guys really are no-fun... like the No-Fun Police. But if they can Squish does that mean they're magic too? And they called my pulling magic a Summoning Ch...Charm?'

Harry didn't know what a 'charm' was, but since those people could tell when he used too much magic, he realized he needed to be even more careful about using magic besides the Squish.

Over the next several days, Harry wandered around Brixton and occasionally nearby London districts to snap photographs of potential places to hide and sleep for the night, and stored them in his photo album. The church had become his go-to place to crash for the night, but his near run-in with those other magic-users made him feel like he should move on soon.

Harry (now sporting a hat) made his way through the market after nicking a banana and orange from an unsuspecting vendor for his breakfast. In the cool air of the Saturday morning, Harry decided to pass a bit of time watching people go about their business without a care in the world. Harry was particularly jealous as he saw kids out and about with their parents, chatting away with them, smiling and generally looking happy.

Harry hadn't felt such things in quite a while, even before leaving the Durselys. He didn't think he'd ever come to regret running away, and he still didn't, but he still yearned to be part of something like those kids were.

Not liking his current thoughts, Harry and began to walk around instead as he waited for the Tate Library to open its doors. He was gazing around at nothing in particular, thinking about this 'multiplication' thing he read about the other day, when he walked past a couple of policemen talking to one of the vendors at the market. But as he walked by, snippets of their conversation caught his attention.

"...run away. He's likely to be in a bad state, given he's been missing for a number of days now."

The officer showed the man what looked like a picture of someone on a piece of paper, though from behind the officer Harry couldn't make out of whom it was.

"Hm, I might have seen him somewhere, but I see so many faces it's hard to say. I'm sorry I couldn't be more help, I do hope you find him and return him home," the vendor said as he lay the picture down on his stand. "If I spot him I'll be sure to contact the police."

The policeman nodded and walked off to hand out more flyers. While the vendor began speaking to a customer who walked up to his stand, Harry snuck over to get a look at the flyer and froze.

It was a picture of him on the flyer. It as his school photograph from the beginning of the school year. Harry hated the photo; being clothed in Dudley's oversized hand-me-downs made him look like a delinquent. Well, now he was a delinquent technically, but that's neither here nor there. The flyer noted the day he ran away, his identifying scar and the number to call if one had information relevant to the police relating to him.

Harry was beginning to sweat a bit, despite the early morning air. He refused to go back Durselys, there was not a chance he'd set foot in the same neighborhood again. He'd sooner starve than be thrown back into his cupboard again, not when he knew there was a whole world out there where he could just get away from it all, even if he was rather lonely.

As panic began to set in, Harry felt "the tug" again as his magic began to respond to his worsening state of mind. He didn't mean for it, but a strong gust of wind began blowing through the area, surprising many people given the relative lack of wind that morning.

Harry realized what he was doing and began to reign it in, figuring he might blow everything down of he didn't quit it. The deep breathing and closing of the eyes helped re-establish his control.

Just when the wind died down to normal, a voice called from behind him, "Hey kid, what are you doing out here by yourself?"

Harry turned and saw the policeman from before looking at him with an arched eyebrow. Harry was sure if he didn't have his hat on he would have been found out immediately.

"Oh, um, my parents are in the shop over there," he said while gesturing at the bookshop 20 feet to their right. "My mum let me wander around out front while they got their things."

Harry had practiced this lie after getting similar questions in previous days. He quickly realized people would know he should be in school if he walked around so much during what should be school time, so he began to come in the afternoons to arouse less suspicion.

The policeman seemed to doubt Harry's story and began to look down at one of his flyers. Harry noticed the look of recognition as he matched him with the photograph.

"Son, would you come with me for a moment? I need to show you something," he said in an offhand tone of voice.

But Harry wasn't a fool, he clearly recognized him. So Harry turned and ran as fast as he could, rounding the nearest corner of the building behind him. He heard the policeman make a sound of protest and beginning to give chase.

Harry was trying to picture a place to Squish to, but he was having a hard time focusing given the consequences of getting caught. He could feel his magic welling up within him again but he couldn't pay it any mind at present. He just needed to get away and find a way to hide.

After a having ducked through another alley, Harry leaned against the wall of the building and began to despair as he knew he wasn't fast enough to get away from the adult man chasing him. He prayed the policeman wouldn't find him. He didn't know what else to do besides focus on his magic as hard as he could to give him the answer to stop from being found out. Despite feeling a sort of popping sensation on his face and an odd warmth making its way through his body as his clothes felt snugger than usual, no answer came to him.

He could hear the policemen bounding down the alleyway toward him and prepared for the return to prison, but the policeman barely paid him any mind as he turned every which way as if he couldn't see him.

"Hey, have seen a kid who looks like this come through here?" he asked Harry and showed him the flyer with his image upon it.

Harry didn't dare to question his luck. "Um, no sir, I haven't seen anyone like that. I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

The man ran off to continue to search while looking frustrated at having come so close only to let him slip away somehow.

After the policemen had run out of the alley, Harry began to frown.

"How did he not know it was me? He just saw me a minute before," he muttered aloud, as if expecting someone to tell him the answer. Deciding that the warmth he felt must have done something, he put it on the back burner and decided to Squish somewhere else until he had calmed down from the excitement.

Harry appeared inside an abandoned dance studio a couple of miles from the Tate Library he had started visiting a few days ago. The place had been boarded up, so Harry had taken a photograph of it with his Polaroid. Inside, there was a large mirror spanning the entire main room of the abandoned building. As Harry walked by said mirror on his way to the bathroom, the sight he saw in the mirror nearly caused him to scream.

The image reflected in the mirror wasn't himself, but rather that of a boy quite a bit older and taller. He had neck-length blonde hair and a longer, more pronounced hook of a nose. Best of all, his scar had completely disappeared. Only his green eyes remained to convince him that he was seeing himself reflected.

After waving his arms around sporadically just to be sure, Harry accepted that he had somehow turned himself into a completely different person. His extra few inches in height explained by his clothes felt tighter on him.

"This must be why the policeman didn't know it was me. B-but how did I do it?"

He then recalled the warm sensation spreading through his body and the popping sensation he felt on his face when he was frightened of being caught earlier.

Having been tapping into his magic for months now since his first Squish, he knew magic had to be the cause. And so he concentrated until he felt his power within him. He then pictured his usual self within his mind's eye and tried to will himself back to normal.

And he hit dirt. The warmth and popping returned full force and Harry got to watch in fascination as his skin began to morph and alter until he blinked and found, well, himself standing there. His real self that is.

Smiling broadly at his discovery, Harry said This so brilliant."

(Hogwarts, late July)

Minerva McGonagall was, as she had been as of late, distracted and short-tempered. It was not uncommon to catch her staring out a nearby window and generally rather fidgety. For the students who had left for the summer holidays the month previous, her sudden change in behavior was a mystery. But for several members of the Hogwarts staff, it was difficult to blame her.

Although the news wasn't public, some members of the Hogwarts staff had been alerted that Harry Potter had done a runner back in late May. Once this information had been spread throughout the members of the Order, there was a near panic to find the boy before he was hurt in the Muggle world or captured by remnants of Voldemort's forces.

The Order's connections inside the Ministry of Magic - particularly among the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - was of particular use. Kingsley Shacklebolt was able to put the word out about an unspecified magical child who had run from an abusive Muggle home and was having issues with bouts of accidental magic in public places. Naturally the Accidental Magic Reversal Department pressed Shacklebolt for more specific information, such as the identity of the child. However, Kingsley had given Minister Fudge an overview of the situation, and so was allowed to handle the situation with enough secrecy to keep the runaway's identity unknown with the excuse that it was national security matter.

McGonagall had gone to her family manse in Caithness to try and take her mind of it all for a bit before rejoining the search. She had cast a Stasis Charm on the bed covers she had taken from Harry's cupboard so that the smell wouldn't dissipate. Thus far hadn't had success picking up his scent, but then she didn't know here Harry had Apparated to.

Ten minutes had passed after she sat down on recliner when a buzzing at her fireplace indicated someone was requesting entrance. The identification charm on the mantle flashed the name 'Albus Dumbledore' (mercifully not his entire name) and so she allowed him through.

Rather than come through, when the emerald flames sprang into existence, Dumbledore called out "Minerva, I have news. Come on through, the school is more secure."

Agreeing, McGonagall walked through the flames to Floo to the headmaster's office at the castle. The moment she came all the way through she said, "What has happened, Albus? Did they catch him?" she asked in a rush.

"Kingsley mirror-called me. The DMLE plants within the London police force caught wind of Harry. Apparently one of the Muggle law enforcement policemen ran into him in Brixton this morning, but he took off running."

McGonagall's brow scrunched together. "He escaped?"

Dumbledore nodded. "They don't know how he did it either. He rounded a corner and vanished. I presume it was Apparition, though the policeman in question didn't make mention of the typical cracking sound that accompanied Apparition." McGonagall found Dumbledore's frown at this information to be odd. It seemed less like a look of worry and more like a look of contemplation.

"Albus, if he can Apparate on command then how will we catch him? If he moves onto the continent we may never catch him. He may even splinch himself for Merlin's sake!"

McGonagall was becoming frantic again. Harry about been homeless for two months. Children who ran away from wizarding families were always either caught or they lost their lives tragically. But the added complexity brought on by Apparition being involved made capture the far less likely outcome. They couldn't very well set up anti-Apparition wards around the whole of Brixton.

Dumbledore knew he needed to get things settled quickly lest his deputy headmistress go hexing her way through southern London to find him.

"Minerva, there may be a way to an easier way of finding him if we consider who it is we're trying to return safe and sound," Dumbledore said in a placating tone of voice.

McGonagall looked at him questioningly.

"Consider that Harry is a child, nearly eight years of age. He won't have the tolerance to withstand repeated nights without adequate sleep…"

McGonagall caught his train of thought and said, "So if we restrict our searches to nighttime we can overcome the issue of catching him despite the Apparition. But surely such a simple tactic has been used by those in the DMLE?"

"Indeed it has, but this is where you have the advantage. Because Kingsley has had to keep strict information control on this case, he can't very well make a scene by requesting numerous Animagi to track Harry's scent. And now that we know Harry's general location...," Dumbledore said.

McGonagall understood the role she was being asked to fill, and she agreed to it immediately. Not only was she an Animagus with a heightened sense of smell, but her cat form also granted her very acute vision during the nighttime. And with McGonagall not having been an employee of the Ministry in decades, her joining the search wouldn't be noticed by parties interested in taking Harry for their own sordid reasons.

McGonagall turned and began to walk back towards Dumbledore's fireplace. But before she exited, she turned her head back at Dumbledore. "And Albus? About what I said before. When Harry is found, I'm taking custody of Harry like I should have done to begin with. James and Lily listed me as one of his allowed guardians should they have died in the War. I only allowed those horrid Muggles to take over because you swore those protections would keep him safe while he lived there."

Dumbledore inclined his head, knowing full well that Minerva was well within her rights to do so, and at this point he had little qualms with her taking over. He nodded in response to her statements as Minerva Flooed back to her dwelling. Dumbledore's thoughts were occupied with a different matter and their possible implications.

'It's been two months since he ran away, so he must be stealing food and hiding in out of the way places in order to survive,' Dumbledore thought. Dumbledore was reading over all the information from the dossier Kingsley had given him that was relevant to this case.

'From what Kingsley said, there had been a string of apparently accidental magic uses for months in various places around Little Whinging, where Harry lived. If he can Apparate properly, and if the damage he did to the front door is any indication, I very much doubt those were accidents at all.' After thinking about the some of the spells used in that period from October to May - the Water-Making Spell (Aguamenti), the Fire-Making Spell (Incendio) and the Levitation Charm being chief among them - he noticed a trend. The spells would be used once or twice, and the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad were dispatched to handle the disturbance. However, they were never again brought to Little Whinging for the same spell once a new spell alerted them.

"So he had been testing his powers," Dumbledore said aloud. "And not just whatever struck his fancy, these are spells that would help him to survive in many different kinds of places. Fresh, clean water for thirst, fire for warmth, levitation to reach places… although Apparition serves that need better. Perhaps he finds it safer to use?"

It was clear to Dumbledore that Harry hadn't just run away without putting any thought into it. He had developed a foundation that would at least keep him alive. Even if the water conjured from Aguamenti was not permanent, it only needed to last long enough to be absorbed into the body to prevent it from vanishing as conjured objects usually did after a certain amount of time.

The information in Kingsley's dossier was beginning to unsettle Dumbledore. The methodical exploration and development of magic by a child - without a wand, no less - was something he had only personally seen once before, and the previous example was both ironic and worrisome given the connection between the two. Dumbledore knew that the two used their magic in very different ways, but life on the streets could have a very negative impact on a person, especially a child.

"I can only pray he is nothing like you, Tom. I'd like to believe that Lily's sacrifice is proof enough that his fate will be different than yours."

(July 31st, 1988)

An adult man in his early 30s briskly made his way down the sidewalk in the pleasantly cool evening of Brixton. The man carried himself with posture and body language of someone who took charge and got what he wanted. His shoulders were squared and his gait steady and deliberate. The overall picture was greatly assisted by the dark blue power suit the man wore, his neatly trimmed facial hair and short, tamed raven-black hair. The tan briefcase he had in tow cemented the image he intended to portray of a no-nonsense businessman having ended a trying day at work.

Harry quite liked using this 'Harold Porter' form he came up with. After learning about "The Pop" letting him become different people, Harry had spent several days watching various people to figure out what kind of people would let him move around without suspicion.

'Harold' was the easiest one to wrap his mind around, as his Uncle Vernon often wore suits to impress others. Harry had even taken a leaf out his pudgy uncle's book in regards to how 'Harold' carried himself. Vernon walked rather aggressively, back straightened, facing determinedly forward and with his fists clenched, so people tended not to bother him out in public of they could avoid it. Harry adopted a similar manner of walking to get equivalent results, though he hoped he came across less unhinged than his uncle did. The incident with the police the month before ground into Harry how important it was not to look out of place, and how even his own face could get him caught by total strangers. He couldn't stand it whenever he saw his face on flyers of lost children. It wasn't quite fame, but Harry thought he'd go mad if unknown people could recognize him at a glance. He was already rather shy before all of this, and he thanked whatever higher power would listen for letting him shape-shift to let him feel comfortable in someone else's skin from time to time.

On his way to his destination, Harry began thinking over his shapeshifting magic. He didn't know what to call it for awhile, he just called it "The Pop" at first because he felt a popping sensation whenever he changed. However, after consulting the sacred world of comic books again at a comic shop, a certain comic gave him the name to this newest power. Harry had taken on the look of a fairly unremarkable teenager with dark brown hair and entered the small store nervously, as he hadn't been using the power for very long at this point.

"Excuse me, sir," Harry had said the the man behind the register. It was a somewhat rotund ,young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties.

"'Ello kid. What can I do you for?" the man asked.

"Um, well, I'm looking for a comic… duh. I mean, I'm trying to find one where someone has a specific power," he said shyly. He didn't like to talk so much if he could avoid it, as it seemed like people could tell he didn't speak quite right for the age he looked like.

"What sort o' power? There's a million of 'em, so I'll more than likely have something that strikes your fancy."

"I'm not sure what the name of the power is. The ability to turn into someone else."

The employee nodded his head in understanding. "Ah, shapeshifting you mean. Yes, I've got just the series for you," he said before directing the shapeshifted Harry to a row of comics, a series Harry hadn't read before.

The man pulled out an older issue of the series and said, "The Uncanny X-Men. There are some shapeshifters in 'ere. The one you'll be looking for is Mystique, the one with the blue skin."

Harry purchased a few older issues of the series on the cheap and proceeded to a nearby park to read it to pass some time in the afternoon. This "Mystique" lady used her shapeshifting to impersonate people to steal and to escape from others by pretending to be someone well-known to those around her who wouldn't look out of place. Harry was just glad he didn't have to have blue skin. Although he figured he could make his skin blue if he was feeling really adventurous, but he figured he didn't actually want to be Mystique herself.

Speaking of women, current Harry's stomach turned at the thought of what had happened when he turned into a woman once. At the time, he hadn't known if it would work, but since Mystique could do it he figured he should have no problem doing it too. Boy was he ever wrong.

After he had finished reading some of the X-Men comics he purchased, Harry spent part of the day walking around Brixton as 'Harold' to see what sort of woman he should turn into. He thought he would just look for a woman who could get similar results to 'Harold' just in case he needed to be a girl for some reason. And besides, he was curious what it was like to be a girl. He spotted a woman giving her husband a hard time for some reason or other. The man seemed resigned to the treatment, as if there was nothing unexpected about it, and simply tried to placate his wife. She did seem rather irritated, if not angry.

'Bingo, I'll try turning into her,' Harry thought. He proceeded to slip into the alley and then Squished to the top of the building beside him. Once ontop it and alone, Harry quickly switched into some adult-sized clothing and began to shape-shift into the woman he saw. He didn't just want to look like her, Harry wanted to be her, to figure out how she got her husband to do whatever she said. He focused on her to make clear to his magic who he was trying to become. It was rather stranger than his usual body alterations. The increased height he was used to by then, but his hips began to widen more than when he was a grown man. He also noticed his chest was… growing? Whatever those things were that women kept under their shirts. And he didn't know what on earth was going on in his pants.

As the transformation finished he looked himself up and down. 'So… this is really weird,' he thought. He still didn't understand how this lady had such a leash on her husband and was about to go look around a bit more when it happened.

He started getting an awful awful cramp in nether regions. The burning and pinching down there was just about unbearable, almost as if he had been stabbed. He nearly wobbled and fell to his knees, scared at whatever was happening to him. His underwear felt wet and he didn't want to look and see why.

And then he realized he could just undo the shapeshift to stop whatever curse he had been hit with. As he undressed again, his new body puzzled him but he tried to ignore it as it was now returning to normal. He took out a pair of clothes from his briefcase he kept for when he was in the form of a teenage boy and donned it after his changes ended.

"Maybe I'll just stick to being a boy for now" he had concluded after noticing a fair amount of blood in the underwear he had been wearing.

In the present, 'Harold' snapped out-of his reverie as he reached his destination, the Ritzy Cinema. Pulling out some money he had pilfered from a local grocery store safe the night before, Harry said to the employee at the ticket booth, "I'd like one for Superman IV at the 6 o'clock showing." After receiving his cinema ticket, Harry entered the cinema to go watch his film before heading to one of his hideouts to sleep. Although he didn't have much money besides what he would steal from the occasional business, Harry didn't mind also splurging on a large tub of popcorn and drink. After all, it was his 8th birthday.

...And later that night Harry walked out the cinema sorely disappointed. He couldn't believe a Superman movie would be so boring. "The comics are always better I guess..." he muttered.

As he proceeded down the street with a photo in hand to seek refuge and tuck in for the night, he didn't notice a cat wandering near the cinema in the night. The cat in question had its nose up in the air, sniffing out its evasive prey as the scent kept changing itself somehow.

'How does he keep getting away?' McGonagall thought sadly.

(A/N): Review, Follow and Favorite~

Sorry if this chapter wasn't as entertaining as the previous one. Next chapter will have a bit more action for Harry, he'll be making more direct use of his developing magic in certain conflicts he comes upon. Oh, and I think Hermione should be appearing next chapter, but don't expect it to be too much just yet. It's more of teaser I guess (is that mean? xD)

I'm not entirely sure why I chose Brixton for the setting here. I've only been to the UK once (for a wedding, curse the jet lag and soreness from 2 trans-Atlantic flights...), so I'm not really familiar with it. Hopefully I was able to get by with Google and such without bungling things, hehe. However, Brixton does allow me to set up one potential conflict if I decide to (my outline of this bit was rather vague, curse my past self).

Also, McGonagall is going to start having some success next chapter, once she figures out that Harry has displayed Metamorphmagus abilities. Sorry if people don't like that I gave him this. I was hesitant to do it, because it seemed like a bit much. But otherwise I would find it too unbelievable that a kid could survive on the street alone, even with Apparition.