Disclaimer: My elaborate plans to capture the almighty J.K. Rowling and force her to relinquish ownership of Harry Potter to me have failed yet again and thus, I own nothing.

A Life Alone
Chapter Forty-Four

By Loony

Harry stared down at the busy bustle of witches and wizards below him. Unfortunately, Nymph hadn't forgotten the idea of playing dares in Diagon Alley. It seemed it had been an idea of hers that she had been itching to do for months. He had managed to keep her away from forcing him to participate in the game for two whole weeks before she would have no more of it and petulantly bullied him into it.

The day after they had returned to London, Nymph had acquired the Daily Prophet, the wizarding newspaper, (Harry didn't even want to think how) and it had amused them greatly to find that Harry's escapade in the Three Broomsticks was in it. The article had detailed how a "young hooligan" had purposely stirred up trouble by attacking innocent customers. There was no mention of Nymph. The picture, thankfully, did not show Harry but rather the destruction left in the pub. Glass was shattered everywhere and there was not a table, chair or beverage left standing. The fireplace had suffered the worst damage; during Harry's escape, the multitude of witches and wizards had all fired spells it and it had thus collapsed inwards leaving only a pile of bricks.

In the process of keeping Nymph away from Diagon Alley to play dares, Harry had ended up fighting everyone either of them knew and even some people they didn't. Multiple times. It had taken quite a number of days to track down various hide-outs of different gangs and factions. In the end, Harry felt much more confidant in his fighting abilities again than when he had first returned. Perhaps the only person he hadn't fought against at least once was Nymph. For some reason she stayed out of the fights against him. Perhaps she thought she stood no chance against him or thought it would affect their friendship.

Whenever they had met others for Harry to fight, the pair had ended up spending the day with them talking amiably of what they had done since their last meeting. Though he knew it was dangerous for them to be talking to him, Harry quite enjoyed catching up with old acquaintances.

Another thing Harry ended up doing to avoid playing dares in Diagon Alley was to play the game in the muggle world. News of Harry and Nymph's intentions spread, however, and the game ended up with not only themselves but thirty-two others as well. It was the larges game Harry had ever participated in. The first round was filled with mundane things, such as hugging the first brunette that came into sight or stealing a fish bowl, but by the time the second round began, all the mundane dares had been used and they grew more outlandish. By the time the fifth round began, there were only fifteen left playing. The others had failed their dares or refused them and so the numbers were significantly smaller. It actually took several days for the game to end; a girl named Trix was the only one to successfully complete her dare which involved her stealing a car, somehow getting it to the top of a ten story building and pushing it off the roof. It wasn't really clear how she managed it…

And so, it was the last week of the holidays before Harry ran out of… amusing activities to keep Nymph entertained with. They had done everything imaginable from sneaking into the cinema to throwing water balloons off buildings of great height in attempts to soak those below.

"Right, 'arry," Nymph declared from their spot in an unobtrusive alley. Harry thought it was rather odd that there were small alleys off Diagon Alley but considering their reason for being there, he chose not to comment. "You can go first 'cause it were my idea. Your round one dare is… to swipe someone's hat."

He blinked at her. That was all? No drop a wizard down a hole? Not that he was complaining… He smirked. "Piece of cake."

Leading the way back into the main alley, Harry inspected passers-by for a suitable candidate. He walked innocently forwards until he was alongside a short wizard with a short grey beard and greying hair. Without breaking stride, Harry tapped the wizard on the shoulder away from him so that the wizard turned his back to him. With a well practised movement (and still without breaking stride), Harry lightly took the hat from his head – so lightly that it took the confused wizard a moment to realise it was missing, by which point Harry had already walked away with the hat hidden in his clothes.

Back in the alley, he presented the hat to Nymph with a grin. "That wasn't even slightly hard."

She sneered at him good naturedly. "Beginner's luck. You gots a better one?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Your round one dare is to get someone to buy you – willingly – some ice-cream." She gave him an unimpressed look and walked out of the alley.

Harry watched in fascination from the side as Nymph walked up to the ice-cream parlour where several families were examining the menu of bizarre wizarding flavours. She pretended to look at it too and then her expression changed from interested to sad and forlorn. She sighed pathetically.

"Oh they all look so wonderful! I wish I had money with me to buy one…"

He had to admit, as a kindly old gentleman bought her a Starry Sorceress's Swirl, that she was a good actress. She returned to him after an exclamation of "Oh thank you, kind sir!" with her ice-cream, a triumphant grin on her face.

"As you says, 'arry, piece of cake." She gave the ice-cream a lick. "Your second round dare is to… go into the bank and get some money."

Suddenly he found himself wishing she would go back to the simple stealing of a hat but he knew he had to at least attempt the dare or she would probably throw a fit. Dares was a game Nymph took very seriously indeed.

Licking his lips in anticipation, Harry made his way towards the bank, balking slightly as he saw a sinister warning against thieves. That was one option out. There was no chance that he was about to cross someone who put that as their welcoming message. Inside was a giant marble hall filled with, what looked to be, goblins, nearly all sitting at a long counter weighing coins, examining precious stones and writing in ledgers. They were eerie creatures and looked every bit as sinister as their message. He left Nymph at the door, happily licking her ice-cream, and almost burst into laughter as he caught a goblin speak to her.

"Are you in need of assistance, miss?"

"Nah, just waiting on me friend," was the chirpy reply.

What amused Harry, however, was what he heard the goblin whisper to a couple of its companions. "Keep an eye on that one; she looks like trouble."

On his own, he approached a free goblin at the counter, nerves twisting and writhing in his stomach. The formidable creature turned a beady eye on him and stared coldly until Harry spoke. "Erm, yeah, hi," he said awkwardly. "I'd like to make a withdrawal."

"Mr Potter," the goblin said, with a glance up to his forehead where Harry knew his scar might just be visible through his hair if one looked closely. "Do you have your key?"

"Heh?" Key? What key? Generally speaking, a key opened a lock but what this lock was on, Harry had no idea. He had no money in Gringotts; he'd never had much money, full stop. But why would the goblin ask for a key if there was not a vault to accompany it? Impossible, that would mean his parents would have had a vault and Aunt Petunia would have said something about it. Unless she didn't know about it…

Dumbledore. Dumbledore would have known if Harry had a vault with money and surely Dumbledore's mind didn't twist enough that he would keep hidden something that would keep him well fed. Then again, it was Dumbledore.

"I shall assume then, that you do not have your key, Mr Potter?" the goblin said stonily when Harry did not say anything more. He nodded dumbly. Well, he didn't have a key. Even if it didn't exist, he still didn't have it. "Well then, sign here –" from the air the goblin produced a piece of parchment filled with writing in a curvy writing that Harry couldn't read. "- and a new key will be presented to you. If you are not, in fact, Mr Potter, I should warn you that… adverse affects should occur if you sign."

Taking the quill that was offered, Harry scribbled his signature at the bottom where indicated. He didn't have anything to fear; he was himself. It was just a little peculiar that he should need to sign to be told that he did not have an account.

To his surprise, the goblin nodded after examining the parchment and produced a gold key, again from the air, and handed it to him. "Griphook will escort you down to your vault, Mr Potter."

"Heh?" Harry reiterated. He barely had time to call Nymph over before another goblin came and escorted them into a small, narrow stone passageway that was lit by torches along the walls. At Griphook's whistle, a cart came hurtling along to greet them. The ride down reminded Harry strongly of a roller coaster ride he had been on shortly before Aunt Petunia had been murdered. He and Nymph thoroughly enjoyed the ride down to his vault but when they disembarked, Griphook appeared slightly disgruntled at their whoops of joy during the ride. The goblin opened the enormous door to the vault using Harry's key and revealed mounds upon mounds of coins.

"Whoa, 'arry, you lucky son of a –" Nymph began but she was cut off by a stream of profanity that Harry directed towards Dumbledore. He knew. Dumbledore knew about the mountains of gold that awaited Harry and he never said anything! Sometimes he wondered if it was Dumbledore's mission in life to make him loath him as much as possible.

Once back in the open in Diagon Alley again, with considerable piles of gold in their pockets, Harry and Nymph found that they had nothing on which to spend the money. They had already stolen all the supplies Nymph would need for Hogwarts and Harry's were still at the castle. Their stomachs were well accustomed to not eating much. There were only a few days left of the summer holidays and they had agreed to spend it with some friends. It was odd, but now that Harry had the money he had so desperately wanted at times, he found he had no use for it. In the end, the pair returned most of it to Harry's vault in case someone tried to steal it. That was what they told themselves. In actual fact, the pair wanted to have another ride in the cart.

After they had emerged (again) into the dazzling sunlight that had befallen Diagon Alley, Nymph insisted that they continue the game of dares. It was her turn. Harry was rather stuck for ideas that he could make her do. Following several minutes of thought he settled for the good old "Punch the first blonde person you see in the face" dare.

She was only too happy to comply; this was one of her favourite dares. In a matter of seconds she had located a boy with blonde hair, tapped him on the shoulder and punched him – hard – on the nose. The boy fell over backwards in surprise but swiftly got to his feet and drew his wand. It was Malfoy and he was advancing on her, looking well and ready to use his wand.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Harry propelled himself forwards and bowled Malfoy over from the side. They landed together on the ground with a light oomph sound.

"Run, Nymph!" Harry gasped from his position on top of Malfoy. She didn't need telling twice, which was a first. Before Malfoy had even thrust Harry off him, she was gone.

"What the hell do you think you're doing White?" he demanded as soon as he had gotten to his feet and begun brushing off his robes. He glanced at Harry. "Wait you're not White… you have his hair though…"

Mentally, Harry cursed his black hair that still retained the green highlights that had resulted from the Weasley twins attempted prank. It seemed that particular spell was there to stay. "Erm, yeah… it's all the rage in, erm, Germany."

Malfoy frowned at him. "You are White, aren't you? You're under a glamour charm."

What should he say? He could deny it, but that wasn't very effective. His hair really was a big give away. After all, who would just happen to have the exact same hair? It was helpful that Malfoy had the glamour backwards though. Maybe he could get away with admitting it.

"Yeah," he sighed, at last. Absentmindedly, he ran a hand through the fated hair. "I am. Listen, I have to go. See you at school." Harry darted quickly after Nymph, not waiting for Malfoy to answer and missing his wide eyes.

It took several more rounds of the game before Nymph finally consented to finishing it. Fortunately there were no major mishaps, though Nymph did get chased down the alley by a group of vicious pixies.

xXxXxX

The last few remaining days before they due to return to Hogwarts passed all to quickly for Harry's liking. Though he knew he had to return to learn so that he could defend himself and extract his revenge on Dumbledore, he didn't have to like it. In actual fact, he was dreading the moment when he met the old fool again; Dumbledore would be most anxious to know where he had been for sure.

So it was on their last night of the holidays that Harry was surprised when Nymph informed him that there was something she needed to do. On her own. No amount of questioning or coaxing enticed her to reveal where she wanted to go or why. It felt a little unjust to Harry; after all, she never let him out of her sight, so why should he be expected to? Once he had seen how futile his protests were, he ended up letting her go. He then followed her stealthily.

Nymph, as if suspecting he might do something like he was, did a very good job of attempting to lose any stalkers. She got on a bus, then a train, then another train, another bus, ran round the same block three times and proceeded to travel at a fast pace through many twists, turns and bends. She did indeed do a very good job of attempting to lose him (not that she was certain he was there) but Harry was an even better tracker than she was. By the time Nymph had reached her destination (a house, that looked as normal as any of the similar ones that the street was filled with), however, Harry wasn't entirely sure where they were.

The girl in question glanced in paranoia from side to side up the street before approaching the door of the house. Harry smirked from his hiding place (he was crouched behind some bushes); he was positive she had no idea that he was there. As the door to the house opened and closed once Nymph was inside, Harry half crouched, half ran to duck down beside the window of the room that had just flicked its lights on, knowing that he might just be able to hear the conversation within. True enough, he was able to make out the murmurs of conversation and, if he listened carefully, he could decipher most of what was being said.

"Have you gots it?" That was unmistakably Nymph's voice, but what was it after? What could the inhabitants of this house possibly have that Nymph wanted?

"Yes, yes, here it is. Do you remember our deal?" This was the voice of a female that sounded to be in adulthood. Who was it? They obviously knew Nymph and had met her before if they had arranged a "deal". They must have met her at least before August; Nymph had been with him since then.

"Yes," Nymph sounded thoroughly exasperated, as if this had been gone over many times. "I'll see you in the holidays."

"There's a good girl," a male voice placated. "Are you sure you don't want to stay with us? It has to be better than wherever you're staying at the moment."

"Where I stay has nothing to do with you! It's my choice!" Nymph sounded angry, more so than Harry had heard her in a while. "I wouldn't stay with you if we were the last three people on earth!"

Now he was thoroughly confused. What had these people given Nymph and why had they struck a deal that said she had to meet them during the holidays? It shouldn't concern them what Nymph did with her life or where she stayed. It was her life, she could lead it however she chose.

"Calm yourself, Nymph. He meant no offence; you know we-" At that particular moment a car drove noisily past and Harry missed what was said by the woman, only Nymph's disgruntled response.

"If that was true, we wouldn't be talkin' about this. Now good bye."

Footsteps sounded from within as Nymph in her sturdy boots walked swiftly to the front door, yanked it open and slammed it behind her as she left. Knowing that this strange mystery would not be solved unless she explained it to him, Harry announced his presence by catching up with her as she stormed down the street. As he expected, she was not pleased to see him.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded at once, after putting away the knife that she had drawn, obviously thinking he was an attacker. "I told you not to come!"

"I wanted to know what you were up to," he said, truthfully. He didn't think it was particularly wise to anger her further when she was in this type of mood. "Who were those people?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, distrustfully. "What did you hear?"

Giving her a sympathetic glance, he replied, "Pretty much everything."

Nymph sighed and the anger fell from her face to be replaced with a dejected look. They had arrived at a small children's play park, which was deserted in the twilight that was shadowing it. She sat on a swing and motioned for Harry to do the same.

"They're my relatives." Harry stared at her in disbelief. "My aunt and uncle. I went to live with them when I were three an' I ran away when I were six." He didn't ask about her life before that; she was saddened enough already. "They – they hate my parents. Always have, always will. Those three years I stayed with them were horrible… They always looked at me, not hating me, but never liking me. It was as if they thought I was my parents or I was going to become them. Everyday they told me how horrible my parents were and what nasty things they would always do. I don't remember them much, but I know they were good people. They only did what they believed was right. So I ran away from my aunt and uncle and that's why I live on the streets."

An overwhelming rush of sympathy filled Harry. He could not imagine how horrible it must have been for Nymph having to grow up with people who hated her parents and treated her badly for it. There was only one thing he didn't understand. "But why go back, then?"

Nymph smiled softly, which was an expression Harry was not used to seeing on her. It unnerved him a little. "Because I knew they could get me these." From within he baggy jumper, she withdrew a vial that was filled with a potion of some kind. The same type that she had gotten for him before to change his appearance.

He shook his head and groaned. "Nymph, you didn' have to do that for me. I'm not worth it."

To his surprise, she laughed. "I'll be damned if you're not worth it, Harry Potter. Come on, we'd better head off. We gots to get to Kings Cross in the morning."

xXxXxX

AN: Slightly longer than the last chapter… Don't you find it really strange that in every story the goblin that takes Harry down to his vault just happens to be Griphook? It's almost as if the little goblin goes out of his way to meet Harry…

As proof that I do, in fact, take into account suggestions given in reviews, Intelligo suggested that Harry get dared into Gringotts and look! It happened! As always, please review and thanks for reading, Loonz.