A year in the life of Harry Potter
Chapter 5: August, 1
Harry looked at his watch. Minutes past midnight. His mind was too full of questions to be able to settle down to sleep. He'd spent the rest of his birthday locked up in his bedroom, refusing to come out, refusing to eat or drink, refusing to open his presents. The whole thing about him being a wizard had upset him too much. He'd been told reluctantly by his relatives the truth about him being here. The truth about his parents. They were not life-long in jail. They had sacrificed themselves for him. They'd been killed so that he could live. His scar was a left-over from that night, and not something they'd cut willingly into his forehead. It was something he didn't want to accept, knew that he would never ever accept the fact that his parents had been dead the whole time. He hadn't believed his aunt and uncle when they'd told him; he still didn't believe them now.
He couldn't stay anymore at the house of his uncle and aunt, and the house of hatred and lies. His whole life was built up of lies. Nothing more than lies.
Spontaneously he decided to run away. Go to a foreign country. Start a new life. Never come back again. As noiseless as he could Harry jumped out of bed, got dressed in enough clothes to last him a few days or so, and then grabbed a bag. First of all he collected all the money he could find in his bedroom. Then he took five packets of wafers, an extra jumper in case it got cold, a book to keep him entertained. In the end he had to leave three packets of wafers behind as they didn't fit into his backpack if he wanted to take some other food as well.
Once downstairs he went into the kitchen, took some apples and bananas. He was ready to go when he saw the still closed pile of presents he'd received. Wanting to have one time the feeling of being able to unwrap presents he but his bag down and knelt beside the pile. First of all he opened an envelope which lay on top of it. In it was a birthday card which was signed by Aunt Petunia and an extra twenty pounds. The other presents turned out be somewhat helpful as well. There was a map of London big enough to be a wallpaper. He stuffed that into his bag. A few boardgames which he left on the kitchen table for Dudley. The next presents were some more games and books. Weirdly all tags on the presents were signed by his aunt, though he didn't give it a second thought.
Finally, half an hour later, he was ready to leave Privet Drive forever. Lastly he wrote a note to his relatives.
Dear Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley,
I am grateful for all the things you did for me. You clothed me and fed me for years though you didn't had to. Thanks for doing so.
Love, Harry
Minutes later he closed the front door behind him, ready to start a new life.
"King's Cross?" the man who sold tickets at Little Whinging Train Station asked with raised eyebrows. Harry had token the first bus to get to that bus station which was on the other side of town.
"Yes," he replied. He'd had to wait for three hours at the bus station and another two in front of the train station waiting for it to be opened. In that time he thought about where to go, and now he was determined to go to London from where he could proceed not only by feet and train, but also by ship. And, as he'd already wasted so much time, he needed to get away as fast as possible.
"You on your own? No parents, guardians, older friends?"
"No. Only me."
"Well, what does a boy your age have to do in King's Cross at this hour on his own?"
"I am fifteen," Harry replied icily. He'd always been good at lying. He looked at the wall clock. The first train to King's Cross would be, he knew, leaving in seven minutes.
"Don't look like fifteen. More like twelve, thirteen at most."
"My parents were midgets, okay?"
"Calm down, calm down, eh!"
"Just give me my ticket."
"Here ya go. That'll be ten pounds fifty if ye have that much, eh!"
Angrily Harry shoved a ten-pound note and a fifty-pence coin into the man's hands and steamed off. If he didn't catch the first train his relatives might notice his absence and contact the police who then could easily find him lingering about the platforms. Luckily he just managed to jump into the last carriage before the doors closed and the train departed. He was on his way to his new life.