Disclaimer: as much as I want Harry, I can't have him. As much as I don't want the Dursley's, I still can't have them. So, what I'm getting at is I don't really own any of this, no matter what misconceptions you have.
Free at Last
He had left them. It was as simple as that. Yet the situation was so complex that Albus Dumbledore had to think over it again and again before it finally registered in his mind what had happened.
Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, the boy-who-lived, had run away from the Dursley's, his only living family.
They had gone to check back up on him, a year later, just as Albus had said they would. Minerva had been right. She had waited outside Number 4, Privet Drive a whole week and had seen no sign that the boy was still there. When Albus had gone to the Dursley's to personally check on Harry, they had gotten unnaturally quiet. Albus had eventually coaxed the story from a terrified Petunia, while young Dudley had watched the scene with a curious gaze.
From what Petunia had said, it seemed as if the boy had just disappeared over night. The Dursley's hadn't realized that he was gone until they noticed that their breakfast was not yet made and the dishes had not been washed.
Dumbledore's ignorance of the situation had led to a six year old boy running away. He only hoped that Harry would not blame him, that is, if Harry was ever found.
Currently sitting on an old log in the middle of an ancient forest just outside of Cornwall was the object of the headmaster's thoughts. Harry's hair had grown into an unruly mane, only barely held back by a small leather thong that wrapped it into a ponytail. Any sign of civilization on the boy had long since worn off, he was wild now.
The day that Harry had run away had been one of the worst he could remember. His Uncle Vernon had actually beaten him, just because he had accidentally burnt his bacon. A bruised and weeping Harry had stumbled to the park, thinking about the ancient oak tree where he had felt so safe. Curled up between the trees roots, Harry Potter had slept. Anyone watching the small boy would have been astonished to see, that after the boy had fallen asleep, he had shimmered away.