Chapter Text
Harry stumbled down the low lit street, dragging his trunk behind him. Hedwig’s cage swung empty at his side as he tried to pick up his pace. Where was he going? His mind was going too fast, too slow, he didn’t know how he got here. Brief memories of dinner with Aunt Marge, Uncle Vernon’s idea of after dinner entertainment, the belt, Aunt Marge using her cane. Something had happened, everyone was so angry, but Aunt Marge had stopped hitting him.
After that was where everything was more snapshots. Looking over his shoulder to see an ever-expanding Aunt Marge. Uncle Vernon screaming at him to ‘Fix her right now, damn it!’ His trunk coming down the stairs behind him. Pushing past his aunt and uncle. Then the cool night air.
He was free. For now. But what was he supposed to do? This felt like the time he was 6 and he finally worked up the courage to run away. He had gotten a few blocks away before he realised there was absolutely nowhere to go. When he was 6 he had cried and tried to breathe before eventually giving up and going back. He was older now though, maybe he could manage.
He felt fresh blood trickle down his back.
He was so tired the night was spinny around him. He couldn’t risk passing out or throwing up here. He had to keep going.
As he was turning the next corner he felt something watching him from the bushes across the street. He whipped around as fast as he could to do something? He didn’t think he could do anything in this state, half mad, back ripped open. As he turned, wand pointed into the darkness, his foot slipped off the curb and his whole body twisted as he landed on his ass.
As he landed, a sound like a cannon sounded from the road. Looking back up, he saw a bright purple triple-decker bus. The words ‘The Knight Bus’ written in bright gold across the side. Just as Harry was contemplating if he had truly, finally lost it the door sprang open.
“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded wixen. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you where you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this even…”
The young man at the door stopped speaking as he finally looked up from his cards that assumedly contained his welcome speech. The man, or boy really looked like he could be fresh out of Hogwarts, still covered in puberty causing acne. He had dirty blond hair and his limbs had a lankiness to them that spoke of not having reached true adulthood.
He seemed to register Harry splayed out on the pavement before him and blinked at him slowly. “What were you doin’ down there?” Said Stan, seemingly giving up on his business pitch.
“Fell over,” said Harry.
“‘Choo fell over for?” sniggered Stan.
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” groused Harry as he achingly peeled himself off the ground.
Harry tried to look around the bus briefly to see what had originally grabbed his attention, but whatever it was seemed to have vacated. He turned back to Stan and came to a decision. He needed to get away and this seemed the simplest solution. He would go to Diagon, get some money and come up with a plan. Who knew if he could go back to Hogwarts after whatever he had done to Marge. So plan B, grab as much money as possible, convert it to pounds and get the hell away from here.
The process of getting his trunk situated with him on the bus and paying the toll took longer than it might’ve, what with his current limited movement. Maybe he would stop by the apothecary too, see if they have a balm that’ll help.
The bus jerked around too much and he felt even more nauseous than before. He would bet anything his face had literally turned green with the way it shot around and seemed to squeeze through impossible gaps in the evening traffic. He shut his eyes and hung on hoping for it all to be over soon.
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Whole big section where he meets the minister, pretty much canon compliant.
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After Tom, the barman, left him in his room with Hedwig, Harry tried to think more about his plan. He still didn’t have enough information. It didn’t really make sense that the minister himself was here to collect Harry, or that he knew where he was going to be. He felt like everyone was keeping information from him.
This wasn’t a new development. His entire childhood had been like that with the Dursleys. He had learned early on not to question things, but he had always had this feeling that something bigger was going on that he didn’t know enough about. He had turned out to be correct in that aspect, the Dursleys knew about the wizarding world but purposefully kept it from him.
He had thought that when he learned this big secret, that feeling would go away. He was in the know just like them now, but it persisted. The last two years when all the awful things would happen to him the feeling was there. And he was even allowed to ask questions. At the end of both years he questioned Dumbledore, but he never really got answers. He got half answers and riddles and fortune cookie sayings.
Maybe it was time to look for answers himself. So he had to make a plan and see where it would take him. The first step of the plan was the same, Fudge might be paying for his lodging right now, but the man had all but confirmed he was being watched and that would not be conducive to the plan. So, money first, possible change of lodging, and then finding answers.
The two other times Harry had gone to Gringotts Bank he didn’t think he saw anything about their hours. It was dark out, but only around 8 at night so there might be a chance he could still make it in. He didn’t have his key. That might be an issue. The last person he remembered having it was Mrs. Weasley. It would probably be better to find out tonight if it was an issue or not so he could send her a note first thing if needs be.
With that in mind Harry decided to best get to the bank as soon as possible. He didn’t really want to explain himself to Tom, the barman, so he popped open his trunk and pulled out his dad’s cloak.
Hedwig clicked her beak at him in the corner of the room. She looked like she knew he was up to something and couldn’t decide if she approved or not yet. He gave her a small smile to reassure her and put a finger over his lips to get her to keep quiet so he could open the door. She ruffled her feathers as if to say ‘if I must’ and looked the other way.
With the invisibility cloak firmly around his shoulders and his wand back in his pocket, Harry slipped back down the stairs into the bar area. It wasn’t empty at this time of night, but not as rowdy as a weekend probably would be. Harry was able to easily navigate the tables from under his cloak without anyone the wiser. He was nearing the back alley entrance to Diagon when someone else got there before him. He was able to perfectly slide in behind the group as they stepped through the brick wall together.
Diagon was as cheerful as usual, though much less lively this late at night. Most shops had their lights turned off and signs flipped down, with a few exceptions. Right at the end of the Alley, Gringotts stood out tall and white, almost glowing in the night. The most important thing to note as Harry made his way ever closer was the huge metal doors leading into the bank were wide open.
Harry maneuvered his way through the Alley only once bumping into someone, an elderly man who seemed to be talking to himself and smelled like Uncle Vernon on a Saturday. He didn’t seem to even register when Harry clipped his shoulder, trying to avoid a group of witches on the other side of him.
He finally arrived at the bottom of the steps to the bank. There were two goblin guards on either side of the main doors looking appropriately menacing in their golden armor with their pointy spears clasped in their hands.
Harry cautiously made his way into the bank, walking past the first set of heavy double doors, where he paused at the sight of the poem he had read on his very first visit to the bank.
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn,
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
Perhaps, it wouldn’t be a good thing to sneak in while invisible. Thought Harry. He looked left then right and saw the coast seemed to be clear. Up against the wall, between the two sets of doors leading into the bank, Harry slipped off the invisibility cloak and quickly folded it before shoving it in his overly large trouser pocket.
He took a calming breath and stepped into the bank lobby. There seemed to be a handful of bank tellers still working despite the late hour, perhaps they didn’t close at night. Harry walked up to the closest teller to him and waited while the goblin continued to scratch out notes with his quill. He didn’t want to rudely clear his throat, but he also didn’t want to just stand there forever staring at him. Maybe there was a book on the proper way to interact with goblins so he didn’t just stand around all the time feeling like an idiot.
As he was lamenting his previous lack of goblin etiquette reading material, the teller finally looked up at him.
“Did you need something?” He seemed to sneer.
“Oh, um, yes, well you see, I was wanting to get into my vault, but I don’t actually have my key, I don’t actually know who has it,” Harry muttered the last bit under his breath. “And well also, I don’t really know how it works, but I was hoping I could get something like a bank statement or maybe I could talk to someone about my account, or…”
Harry realised he was just rambling at this point and the goblin teller in front of him seemed to look more and more annoyed the longer he spoke until he just tapered off looking at the goblin helplessly.
“Name?” The goblin sighed.
“Oh, yes, I’m Harry Potter,” he tried to say this in a normal speaking tone but also quiet enough not to draw unwanted attention.
The goblin narrowed his eyes like he thought Harry was the stupidest thing he had ever seen before a chilling smile spread across his face, complete with overly sharpened teeth.
“Ok Mr. Potter, follow me then.”
Harry looked around quickly before he decided to just follow along and hope for the best. The goblin walked at a surprisingly quick pace for someone with such short legs and Harry was struggling to keep up while he was still nursing his injuries.