AN: Well it's neither a particularly long, nor interesting update - but it is an update! soooo... yay!

It seemed as if Harry had been running for a long time, truthfully he didn't know how long or how far he'd gone, but when he saw a sign that suggested he was heading towards Reading, he decided to stop and actually think. Some things he had decided – he didn't want to die and he didn't want to be a wizard anymore. For all that it had seemed like a grand opportunity to an 11 year old, for all the money and all the security – it was killing him slowly, eating away his strengths, finding new insecurities, turning him into something he was never supposed to be. He just wanted a normal life where no one knew him. Harry knew that he would never have a normal life, that was just fact, but he could find anonymity. He supposed there were two options for this; one, he headed to a new town, looked for work, built himself a new life from the ground up. Of course the problem with this option is that everyone would be looking for him and he would not be well hidden in a small town…

The second option – he could head to London, it was only 40 minutes by train and a huge city, he knew there were places there that no one would look for him. Maybe once he had made some money in London and enough time had passed, then he could look to head to a smaller village and make a normal life. Harry knew that both plans would be difficult but they filled him with a sort of hope and determination that he had never really felt before – the idea made him happy. So he weighed up his options and headed towards a train station, bound for London.

A complete lack of money resulted in a semi-voluntary disembarkation of the train, probably a little over half an hour into his trip. To be more specific, he didn't have any money but figured it wouldn't matter because once you made it onto the train, no one ever bothered to check tickets. Of course he must have forgotten that he was Harry Potter, and rules of bad luck just started doing back flips once he got within 50 feet. So, of course, the ticket collector just happened to be present on his train. Luckily though, Harry spotted the man before the man spotted him and managed to get off at the next station before he was found out.

He was so concerned about getting out of the station without being caught he never even looked at what it was called; his paranoia didn't wear off until he was several blocks away from the station. Harry decided to simply continue walking in the direction of the tracks, or what he hoped was the direction of the tracks, until he reached London. He walked and walked and walked, the sun was beginning to go down and he was so tired, he knew he needed to stop for the night, but it seemed ridiculous to simply sleep on the street, which was ironic, because that had been his whole plan. It seemed so easy, and he was so tired, just go down an alley and sleep beside a garbage skip, but he couldn't. It didn't matter how tired he was, every alley was too open, too many people would see him, and every time he thought about it he felt eyes on him from everywhere. In his mind it had seemed such an easy thing to do – to sleep on the street, he had never had any delusions about it being warm and comfortable, but neither had he thought for a second that he wouldn't be able to stop.

Harry had been to London before, seen the bums on the street, all they did was sit around all day, he could do this, all he had to do was stop and sit down, he could do this, just turn up that alley and sit down, but he couldn't, people would look at him funny, he couldn't do it. So he pushed on.

Of all the things that would bring his run away plans crashing to the ground, he had not pictured this, but he was having serious doubts… and it was so early. Maybe, he thought, it would just be best if he went back. They'd probably send him to the hospital wing, and he could sleep in a nice bed and in the morning he'd just explain everything to them and they'd… well he didn't know, probably they would forgive him eventually and he could go to school… and hope he didn't get shunned again, because this time he didn't even have Sirius and he'd be really lonely if everyone hated him.

It was then that Harry realised, he'd probably gone for the longest time in a few months, without thinking about the fact that he'd killed his godfather. Which reminded him forcefully, kick-to-the-gut as always, of precisely all the reasons he was doing this. Most of all, because it would make him happy… hopefully… eventually.

So he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and forced himself to turn down the next alley. It probably wasn't his best idea, closing his eyes and walking into an unknown space. However, he recovered his footing after stumbling over the rusted old washing machine insides; people left the weirdest things lying around, and looked up into a very unexpected sight.

The alley before him did not end in a dirty brick wall and more identical, chalk-perfect houses. It would almost seem to be a street itself, except for the narrow, dark, dankness of it. It was a very long alley, filth ridden and crawling with vermin. No windows overlooked it for view, there were a few, thin, ventilation windows and many air conditioning hubs but it seemed no residents of the perfectly uniformed houses wanted to acknowledge the presence of such a sore sight, so haphazardly close to their unblemished lives. Which surprised Harry, because even from where he had been standing, and he was getting closer to it now, at the end of the alley he could see a thing so beautiful, it rivalled even Hogwarts. It was a garden, he noted, as he crawled his way under the warped and dilapidated wire fence surrounding it, but he had never seen much beauty in the city, he had only ever been into shopping malls, only ever known the straight lines and cleanliness of modern art to be beautiful. Then there was Hogwarts, which was everything so opposite, adored by everyone so opposite to the people from the world he had known… he had always just assumed, that was another difference. Harry had never realised until now, as he walked under huge leafy green oaks, towards a lake surrounded by pink and white bursts of azalea bushes, that there was beauty untamed in the muggle world also – his world. One day he would know that he had stumbled into the Isabella Plantation, this day he was an ignorant runaway in need of a good nights sleep.

AN: Right well this note is a bit longer...

First and foremost - thanks to my reviewers... all 5 of you lol.

Wow this drives me nuts - I'll have an author's note in my head, pestering me the entire time I'm writing the chapter. Then as soon as I actually get up to it I can't remember a darn thing and end up writing something even more useless instead...

ummm... I think the main things I wanted to point out were:

1) I actually tried to sorta do research-like things for this story, so if anyone with any knowledge of London was wanting to critique me... or help me lol, then that advice is appreciated.

2) I don't know if anyone picked up on this, but in this chapter especially I've been trying to portray Harry's thoughts without actually saying that he thought them (does that make any sense?) Basically what I'm saying comes down to the same thing as the homophobia note at the end of the other chapter. The idea is that they are the character's ignorant opinions, that will change or whatever. So I'm not saying bums sit on the street all day, doing nothing, having an easy life - I am trying to establish the fact that Harry is ignorant.

Do you think I spelt that out clearly enough? Probably not... I rarely make sense, I especially doubt I make much sense at 2 am in the morning lol.

Stuff any typos Muhahaha

Katty xx

PS - Did anyone actually end up guessing where this story was going?