Author's Note: This is a story idea that's been bopping around in my head, but it is not yet titled. If anyone has any ideas, please let me know and I might well use them.
Summary: Mildly inspired by 'Runaway Wizard' by Yanagi-wa. After the events of his third year at Hogwarts, Harry returns to Privet Drive, but the threat of a mass murderer in the form of their nephew's godfather is not enough to sway the Dursleys. After a particularly horrific bout of violence from Vernon, Dudley throws some money at Harry and begs him to leave. How will Harry survive on the streets?
Chapter One: The Leaving
Harry braced his aching body when his cupboard door opened, wearily turning to face his visitor as quickly as his battered form would allow him. To his surprise, it was a nervous Dudley with whom he came face to face.
"Here," the large boy said urgently, holding out an old and ratty backpack. "Take this and go. You need to go and- and not come back."
Harry blinked wearily, confusedly, his pain-foggy brain not quite processing what his cousin was telling him.
"Potter-" hissed Dudley. "You need to leave. Now! He'll be home in like half an hour."
Shaking his head woozily Harry took the bag, throwing a questioning look at his unlikely helper. He unzipped it, peeking quickly inside.A loaf of bread, two small bottles of water and an old wallet of Dudley's sat on top of what looked to be a hooded sweatshirt.
"Why?" It was all he could prompt his mouth to say, his mind still swirling with confusion and the aches thrumming under his skin.
"I don't want you dead, but Dad seems to be losing it more than usual and I think that might end up happening if you don't run while you can. There's just over 'hundred quid in the wallet, that'll do you for a week or so. You can't come back, Potter, not ever."
Dudley was looking at Harry with desperation in his eyes. Blinking away the maelstrom of emotions coursing through him, Harry nodded and rose. It was then that he realised Dudley was holding something in his other hand too, a clean set of clothes and a plastic bag wrapped around something small.
"What is that?" he asked.
"I picked it up this morning," Dudley replied almost shyly, "Tesco opens really early here, did you know that? I mean- sorry. Antibacterial wipes for your back, I can help you clean up if you can't reach, but we will have to hurry. I really really don't want Dad to catch me helping you."
"Uh-" Harry was a little dumbstruck at the helpfulness of his cousin, but he did move quickly from the cupboard into the hall to remove his bloodstained shirt. "Thanks, Dud."
Dudley worked silently, but quickly, mopping up the blood from the open wounds on his cousin's back and cleaning as best he could. Soon, Harry was redressed in a brand new pair of black joggers- also a relic of Dudley's morning jaunt to the supermarket- and a clean vest and hoodie. Slipping his frayed trainers back onto his feet and the backpack over one shoulder, Harry chanced one more look at the cupboard where he had spent the majority of his life so far as he stood on the threshold. It was almost sad to say goodbye after so long, despite knowing that he would surely not miss a thing about his life with the Dursleys.
"Take care, Harry." Dudley threw the remainder of the box of cleansing wipes to the homeless teen, then he walked back into the house, alone.
The first thing Harry wanted to do, after walking several streets in a state of dazed confusion, was call the Night Bus. Belatedly, he realised he had no Wizarding currency save for that which was in his Gringotts Vault. His uncle, immediately upon his return to Privet Drive, had burned his trunk and everything in it before he had been thrown back in the cramped boot cupboard. Unfortunately, this had included his wand, broomstick and all of his school supplies too. At least he knew Hedwig to be safe, having sent her to live with Ron over the summer. A pang of sadness ran through him as he realised it was unlikely he would be able to see his familiar again. Should he attempt to go to the Weasley's house, The Burrow, Mrs Weasley was sure to contact Dumbledore who would send him straight back to his awful relatives. No, Harry was on his own now. Except for maybe-
"Dobby?"
With a pop the small creature appeared, wearing as usual a ratty pillowcase but with the relatively new addition of a single grey sock.
"Master Harry Potter Sir!" The elf exclaimed, cheerily. "How may Dobby be helping yous, Sir?"
Harry glanced around quickly to make sure they were alone, then he knelt down close to the elf.
"Dobby, I was wondering whether you might like to have a family again?"
Dobby's eyes widened impossibly further and he beamed.
"Oh, yes, Harry Potter Sir! Dobby would love to be bonded to you, Sir. It would be an honour to serve the Great and Noble Harry Potter, Sir."
"Er- great. So, how do I, y'know, bond?" Harry was wondering whether the excitable elf would soon be making him regret this decision, but he ignored the thought. In the long run, he knew, it would be much easier to have an elf on hand.
"You simply reach for Dobby with your Magic, Sirs. Then we shall be bonded."
"I- sorry, what?"
Dobby blinked up at him. "You simply reach for Dobby with your Magic. Like yous is wanting to cast a spell to Dobby rather than at Dobby. It be like feeling, Sir."
Harry felt rather ridiculous attempting to cast a spell to somebody, but to his surprise after a moment he felt a warmth spread through him as though he had just stepped into the sunbeams on a scorching hot day.
"Wow." he breathed.
"That is the bond, Master Harry Potter Sir." Dobby's eyes shone with tears, which Harry hoped were the good kind.
"Thank you, Dobby. Please call me only 'Harry', or 'Sir' if you really want. First things first, can you take people with you when you apparate?"
Dobby nodded his head.
"Cool, could you please take me directly to Gringotts bank, Dobby? I need to see about getting some muggle money so I can disappear before the headmaster catches wind of what is happening." Without a word, Dobby took hold of Harry's shirt sleeve and the two vanished with a pop.
They reappeared on the cobbled street outside Gringotts Bank. Harry smoothed his hair down on his forehead in a weak attempt to remain unrecognisable.
"Dobby could you grow my hair or something? Just enough that it would make me less easily recognisable until I can get a proper look sorted. Is that possible with elf magic?" Harry was racking his brains to see what he might be able to come up with, but his knowledge of elf magic was woefully sparse.
"Anything is possible with elf magic, Sir." Dobby snapped his fingers and Harry felt his hair begin to grow. He also felt a tingle run down his spine and across his forehead. Looking into one of the glass windows in the front of a second hand bookstore he realised that Dobby had altered the colour to that of a golden brown and grown it by only a few inches, but the difference was enough that nobody would look twice at him in a search for the Boy-Who-Lived.
Thanking Dobby, Harry dismissed him and made his way into the bank at last. A teller was free near the back of the room, so Harry walked quickly over and spoke, his voice low but urgent, trying to sound as polite and professional as possible.
"Sir, I was wondering how I might go about making a withdrawal from my vault without having my vault key to hand?"
The goblin didn't look up from his paperwork, which looked suspiciously repetitive.
"This is impossible. Come back with your key later."
"I'm afraid I cannot, Sir. My key is in the hold of one Albus Dumbledore, for reasons I do not know I have not been permitted to keep it, however I need to make a withdrawal without the knowledge of the headmaster lest he send me back to some… unsavoury circumstances."
This time, the goblin looked up from his work and stared at Harry for a moment.
"Why does Albus Dumbledore have your key, Mr Potter? No wizard should ever hold the key to another's vault."
"I don't know, Sir. He has had it since my parents died, I believe. He gave it to Hagrid in order for me to gain my supplies for my first year and it was returned to him then. I have not seen it since."
The frown on the goblin's face deepened.
"Mr Potter, please follow me and we shall have this situation rectified."
There was no time for Harry to respond as the creature turned and made his way quickly into a corridor sprouting from the main chamber, weaving through people and goblins alike until he reached a tall doorway a few doors from the end. The pair stepped inside.
"Mr Potter," said the goblin pulling what looked like a thin sheet of metal from under a desk in the corner. "Place your hand in the center of the Stratum."
Harry followed the instruction without questioning, he knew it would be futile and that the Goblins as a whole could be trusted implicitly, especially when it came to matters of gold or of honour.
"Repeat after me: I, Lord Harry James Potter, call forth the keys of my vaults to assemble."
Harry again followed his instruction. A pale yellow light seemed to emanate from the slate before half a dozen keys appeared simultaneously alongside his hand. Harry gasped.
"Are these all for that one vault? How many keys do you need?"
There was a sigh from the goblin, which unnerved the teen immensely by way of its humanity. It was irregular for a goblin to show any type of humanity, especially in front of a wizard. Taking a seat at the edge of the large desk, the goblin motioned for Harry to do the same.
"Mr Potter, my name is Gloklak. Following the events of this morning I would like to take this time to offer you my services as account manager and financial advisor, should you ever need it, to the Potter family. Should you choose not to accept please know I shall take no offence, I shall still give you the information you seek today and shall be more than willing to help you in the future should you request it, however in offering you my services in an official capacity I am also offering you the help of the Goblin Nation as a whole."
Harry was still gaping at the apparition of the keys by his hand, so said nothing until Gloklak continued.
"I can see you are feeling somewhat overwhelmed, so I shall start with the basics while you consider my offer. Firstly, no. Those keys are not all for one vault. It seems that the esteemed headmaster had two keys for each of your vaults, for reasons I do not know. The two smaller, silver keys are for Trust Vault 687. The contents of that vault is somewhere around thirteen thousand galleons at this point. At just under five pounds sterling to the galleon, that totals to sixty-four thousand and ninety pounds. The two larger silver keys are for the Potter vault, 226. The contents of that vault is upwards of four hundred thousand galleons, or nearly two million pounds sterling. Finally, the two small gold keys are for the Slytherin vault, vault number 3. Due to your conquering of the previous Lord Slytherin you have inherited that vault along with its cumulative three million galleons. That is just under fifteen million pounds sterling but I do not currently have the exact figures. I will destroy one of each of these keys if you would like to take one of each, so that you may now have access to your inheritance, Lord Potter. "
Still, Harry felt as though he was struggling to process the words that Gloklak was speaking. The lack of sleep and continuing pain from his back were causing his thoughts to fog and, in truth, he was feeling particularly overwhelmed by the sums of money he had been completely unaware of. Forcing his body and mind to cooperate, Harry finally looked up from the keys into the eyes of the kindly goblin.
"Sir, Gloklak, I would like to thank you for your offer and accept such kindness, it would be my pleasure to allow you to manage the Potter and Slytherin fortune, as well as to accept your service as my advisor. I thank you greatly for your offer and would like to negotiate appropriate payment for your services." Harry took a deep breath, before continuing.
"Furthermore, I would like to ask whether my house elf will be able to access my vaults or whether he would require a key, since I shall offer those keys to him should that be necessary."
Gloklak grinned, his teeth yellowing but menacingly friendly all the same.
"Your house elf will be able to collect funds from any of your accounts without a key, Mr Potter, as it is the bond with your family magic which allows him access."
"Great, Dobby?" There was a pop.
"Master?"
"Dobby this is Gloklak, account manager and advisor to myself and my fortune. You should now be able to go to any of my vaults without problems, is that correct?"
"Oh, yes Sir. Dobby is being able to get Harry Potter Sir's gold whenever he likes, even if the bank is being closed, Sirs."
Harry raised an eyebrow at the goblin, who confirmed with a nod.
"In that case, Gloklak I would like to thank you for your help today. Should you ready the contract and send it to me, it would please me greatly to pay for your time on these matters. Dobby, please go to vault 226. I would like you to withdraw fifteen thousand galleons. Please exchange five thousand galleons into muggle money, then meet me in front of the apothecary in about ten minutes. Is that alright?"
"Yes, Sir." Dobby disappeared with another pop.
"You treat him with respect." Gloklak mused aloud, staring at the spot Dobby had just vacated.
"He is my friend." Harry shrugged. Nodding to Gloklak, Harry wished him farewell and strode from the office with a new confidence in his step. It seemed taking control of his life was going to be much simpler than he had anticipated.
After a trip to Slug and Jigger's Apothecary where Harry purchased a cacophony of ready made potions including Stomach Soothers, Headache Draughts, Dreamless Sleep, Would Cleansing Salve, Bruise Balm and Pepper-Up Potion, as well as a Basic Healer Box, complete with the magical equivalent to a comprehensive first-aid kit and a handy guide to simple healing spells, Harry found himself in front of Cobb and Webb's. Cobb and Webb's was a small place down Knockturn Alley which Harry knew to sell many items relating to the Dark Arts, as well as selling exactly what he was looking for.
Taking a fortifying breath, Harry strode into the shop with Dobby at his heels. The elf had obediently changed his ratty pillowcase for a tiny black slip of fabric that fit him like a robe with a hood, keeping his identity all the more mysterious. Harry, on his part, still looked every part the lost muggle.
"An associate informed me that you were the best place to come for a trunk with specifications," he drawled, channeling his inner Malfoy as the clerk looked up to greet him. "Am I to believe him? I require both speed and secrecy with this task."
"Of- Of course, Sir." Stuttered the clerk. "What can I get for you?"
"I require a simple design with one keyhole to open a basic compartment. I would like further, concealed access to living space, complete with kitchen, bathing and sleeping facilities. Are you able to have this for me by sundown?"
Harry knew his request would be pushing it, as it had to be nearing two o' clock in the afternoon as it was, but the knowledge that the purebloods he was channeling would also usually expect impossible odds calmed his nerves at asking for such service. Once he had his trunk, he knew he could leave the wizarding world for a long while and not have to worry about finding accommodation in the muggle world, simply somewhere to store it.
"Sir, if I may, I have something that might fit your requirements ready at present. Do you care to see it?"
"Show me." Harry commanded.
It was a nice trunk, a little larger than his school trunk had been but with the runework to allow wandless shrinking rendering the vessel smaller than his fist. The wood was a dark brown and showed one large keyhole in the dead centre that opened a space Harry would, two years ago, have drooled over. The main compartment was large and well organised, with shelving for books and cushioned drawers for potions vials and ingredients. On the right hand side was a space with hangers and larger drawers obviously intended for clothing.
The second compartment was the killer. Harry almost gasped aloud as he entered the vast living room that could be only accessed through a bloodstone on the interior lining of the trunk's lid. The room was complete with fireplace, bed, wardrobe (that apparently connected directly with the first compartment of the trunk), desk, armchair and sofa. An archway revealed passage to a small bathroom with a shower, toilet and sink, as well as a decently sized and fully equipped kitchen with a small dining table and chairs.
"This was ordered about three months ago but the purchaser unfortunately passed away before he took it home. The family did not want it, so I can offer you quite a magnificent deal should you wish to take it home." The proprietor looked pleased with himself, and Harry could tell the man was aware of the awe trying desperately to show itself on his face.
"How much?" he asked.
"One hundred and ten galleons."
Harry nodded. "Have you perchance any featherlight money pouches also? Preferably those with extended innards."
"We do indeed, Sir. Is moleskin alright for you?"
"Two please," Harry said with a nod, "and the trunk also."
The bill was settled quickly but as Harry and Dobby were about to leave the clerk called them back.
"Sir, I should release the bloodward to yourself before you leave, or else I shall always have access to your belongings and such. Perhaps your elf could be keyed in, in my place."
Harry considered the matter, then agreed. Dobby took his place at the side of the trunk and Harry watched as his blood was taken and the wardstone violently pushed the shopkeeper back from where he had been standing. The man got to his feet, unphased by his abrupt removal from the space around the trunk.
"Farewell."
"Thank you," replied Harry. The shopkeeper glanced at the window, but by the time he turned back Harry and Dobby had disappeared out the door.
It was to Twilfitt and Tattings that Harry steered them next, admitting the need for at least one robe should he need to come back without causing a stir in the future. It didn't take long for Harry to be measured, although he did leave the store with two robes, one shorter summer robe and one long black travelling cloak which reminded him of the potions master, Snape, with its many buttons and slightly flared sleeves. After stopping briefly at Flourish and Blotts to pick up a catalogue, Harry finally called Dobby back to apparate them away from the wizarding world, quite possibly for good.