Chapter Text
Harry sat in his room, staring at the letter he’d received from Arthur Weasley.
Harry — Dumbledore’s just arrived at the Ministry, and he’s trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE’S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND.
He could feel the rage boiling up within him. Dudley was right. When he was at the park making fun of Harry’s nightmarish ramblings in his sleep, he was spot on. Every night Harry relived the death of Cedric Diggory. He saw the horror on the boy’s face. Saw the pain he must have felt a split second before his body fell to the ground, unmoving. He remembered the pale lifelessness that was his fellow tournament champion.
And no one cared. No one seemed to believe him. Since boarding the train and coming home, as it were, he was isolated. He was cut off. No news, except what little he had gleaned from Mrs. Frigg. She’d only shared that Harry was being ‘looked after’. Spied on is more like it, He thought to himself. But the person that was supposed to be keeping him safe, like everyone else over the course of the summer, had abandoned him.
“No one gives a bloody toss about me,” Harry said, angrily. He rose to his feet, crumpled the letter up and tossed it against the wall. Hedwig ruffled her feathers and hooted softly, then settled back down in her cage. Harry sighed and nodded, his mind made up. “If no one seems to care about me, the I’m through caring for them. I’m not doing this anymore.” He said to the owl. He opened his window, then turn to the cage. “Go to the Burrow. Fly to Mrs. Weasley. She’ll take care of you until I come for you.” Harry said to the pale white owl. “Where I’m going, you won’t be able to follow.” Hedwig seemed to sense the boy’s uneasiness. She stared at him with her big green eyes. “Go on. She’ll treat you well. You know she will.” He reached out and stroked the owl’s beak. “I’m sorry, Hedwig. I can’t do this anymore.” He said, softly comforting the owl. He lifted her from within the cage and set her on the sill. “Go on, then. Go to the Burrow. You know where it is and how to get there.”
With a last hoot, the owl flapped out the window and away into the night. Harry let out a breath and looked around the room. He desperately wished he could simply cast the shrinking charms to make his possessions portable, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to risk another letter from the Ministry if he could help it. So he settled for packing a single change of clothes into a small knapsack, along with his invisibility cloak. He slid his wand into his pocket, put his shoes back on and gathered his broom.
He took one last look around the room, then climbed out onto the roof. He snapped his fingers and quickly retrieved the beat up photo album of his parents Hagrid had given him. “Can’t forget this.” He said, stuffing it into his bag. He then climbed onto his broom and raced away toward downtown London. He noticed with a touch of wry humor that there was no one to stop him. No one to intervene. A smile creased his lips as he thought about his Aunt Petunia’s reaction when she checked on him in the morning and found him gone. Vernon would no doubt stomp and roar. Petunia would fuss and shriek. Dudley would simply blubber about ‘mummy, mummy’. The thought was absolutely hilarious to him.
He stayed high among the cloud cover, making certain to not be noticed. He descended into the courtyard behind The Leaky Cauldron. He dismounted his broom and tapped the necessary brick that would allow him access to Diagon Alley. He knew exactly where he needed to go. He entered the bustling marketplace and made it a dozen paces when a voice that was all too familiar froze him in his tracks.
“Harry Potter.” The droning tones of Hogwarts Potions Master called from his left. Slowly Harry turned to see Professor Snape glide toward him in all his dark sinister glory.
No, Harry thought, quickly. We’re not in school. He can’t tell me what to do here. “Leave me alone.” He said, mustering all of his will to keep his voice steady. “We’re not in your classroom, Professor. So just leave me be.” He turned and continued walking.
Snape stood a moment, then was beside the boy in an instant. “Stop, Harry.” He said, his long thin fingers encircling the boy’s arm. His grip was like iron. He quickly pulled Harry into a darkened alley. “It isn’t safe to-,”
Harry snarled and whipped his wand free, pointing it at the man’s long scimitar-like nose. “I said leave me alone, Professor.” Much to his surprise, the tall man released him and backed away.
“Where are you going?” Snape asked, trying to calm his voice. “You were instructed not to leave your Aunt and Uncle’s house, were you not?”
Harry lowered his wand and chuckled, shaking his head. “You…all of you. You all think you know what’s best for me. Making decisions for me. Ordering me about. Talking about me, talking for me, talking at me, but never talking to me. For the past two months, I’ve been alone. No word from anyone. Not my friends, not my only remaining family, nothing from no one.” He shoved his wand back into his pocket. “I’m not doing this anymore. I’ve been on my own for four damn years and no one has cared. No one has explained anything to me.” He began walking again. “I’m finished. I’m out. No more.”
Snape slid up beside him. “No more…what?” He asked.
“I’m done being used. I’m through being a tool for everyone else’s purposes. I’m through with your world, Professor.”
“What are you talking about, Harry?” He asked, moving in front of the boy blocking him from leaving the alleyway. “You’re a wizard, boy. You’re a part of this world.” He motioned around.
“Am I?” Harry asked him. “Am I really? Where are my parents, Professor? Where’s my family? Where are my friends? Huh? Where are the people that supposedly care about me? I’m supposed to be the savior of the wizarding world, yet no one believes a word I say. I had to watch one of my schoolmates die and for what?” He kicked over a trash can. “So the Ministry of Magic can sit back and do nothing? So Dumbledore can sit back and do nothing?” He stabbed a finger at Severus. “So you can sit back and do nothing?” Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy. “Don’t glare at me, Professor. It doesn’t work anymore.”
“So you’re just going to leave? Leave everyone you care about behind?” He asked. “Just like that?”
It was Harry’s turn to narrow his eyes. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Snape stared at him long and hard. “Have you thought about where you’re going to go?”
“Why do you care?” Harry asked him. “You hate me anyway. I thought you’d be jumping for joy to be rid of me.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Snape responded.
“Neither did you,” Harry said, moving toward the end of the alley. “Get out of my way.”
“Answer my question and I will.”
“I’m going to Gringotts. I’m emptying my vault and going to America. Voldemort and his Death Eaters will never think to look for me there.”
Snape was surprised. It was a rather simplistic plan, but it was quite well thought out. In the muggle world, cash was king. And given what he knew of the funds left to Harry by Lily and James, the boy would more likely as not be a millionaire once the gold, silver, and bronze were converted to Muggle currency. He would have more than enough to disappear and live a life of relative luxury if that was what he wanted. “You can’t,” Snape said, stoically.
“And what are you going to do to-?” Harry began.
“Not without help,” Snape said, interrupting him. “Come with me.” He said, turning to the exit of the alley.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked him.
“Helping you disappear,” Snape said, motioning him to follow. “Quickly, now.”
Harry, dumbfounded, followed behind the man. He allowed Snape to do the talking while he stood by and simply listened. Snape closed his vault out completely and had all of the galleons, sickles, and knuts transferred to a muggle account. Harry signed where was necessary and was handed a muggle debit card.
“Don’t lose it. It’s every pence you own, now.” Snape said to him. “Follow me.” He led Harry from the bank, and then from Diagon Alley as a whole. As they entered the courtyard behind The Leaky Cauldron, Snape pulled his wand out and tapped Harry’s broom. The implement shrank to no larger than a wooden matchstick. “Put that in your pocket.”
Harry quickly did so. “Why are you helping me, Professor?” He asked.
“Because of a promise I intend to keep,” Snape said. “No more questions. Come along.” He entered the bar and strode through with purpose, ignoring the patrons within. The pair stepped onto the busy London street. Snape waved down a taxi and held the door for Harry. He slid in behind the boy and offered an address to the driver.
“Where are we going?” Harry asked, looking about.
“To see an acquaintance of mine.” Snape returned, crossing his arms. “You’ll need to pay for the taxi.” He offered. Harry nodded. Given how much money he had at his disposal, he had no problem with that.
Twenty minutes later, the pair arrived at a rundown brownstone near Oxford. They exited, having paid the fare and signing on for a healthy tip and entered the building.
Harry was once again astonished at Professor Snape’s ingenuity. The man seemed to know everyone and have access to everything. After a few hours, Harry had an entirely new identity. According to the information he had, His name was Harold James Evans. He was a twenty-one-year-old graduate of Oxford Business College that had hit it big on the Stock Exchange and cashed out early to travel abroad. He had an American social security number, transcripts from school, a birth certificate, dual citizenship and even a driver’s license. He looked at the picture as he and Snape traveled to the airport. Given everything he’d been through, Harry did look far older than his mere fifteen years would suggest. He wasn’t quite sure if he could pass for twenty-one, but he didn’t care. It was just going to be nice not to be stuck at the Dursleys anymore.
The cab pulled up to London Heathrow Airport. Harry climbed out of the car and stood, waiting for Snape. The elder man shook his head. “You don’t me any longer.” He offered. “The ticket counter is inside.” He pointed through the glass doors. “You’ll be fine.”
Harry stared at him a moment. “Thank you, Professor.”
“Good luck, Harry,” Snape said. He closed the door and nodded to the driver. Harry watched as the black taxicab drove away. He sighed, turned and lifted his pack up onto his shoulder and headed inside.
It was just after noon when Harry sat in his first class seat, overlooking the city of London as it disappeared into the background. The stark blue of the Atlantic Ocean stretched out beneath him. He’d never seen anything like it. Only on television and in movies and none of them did the sight justice. He leaned back in his chair and relaxed, looking forward to having no one to answer to and no one to tell him what to do. A smile crept across his face as he thought about the fallout of what he was doing. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and all the others would be furious. Molly and Arthur would no doubt worry, as would Hermione and Ron. But he found he didn’t care so much. Like everyone else, they didn’t tell him anything. They just left him to rot in the Dursley’s house because again, like everyone else, they had no use for him. And when Harry was of no use, he was ignored.
Deep down, he knew there was a reason. And he was fairly certain that the reason was probably a rather good one. He was just too busy wallowing in self-pity to care. Not that he didn’t feel his sudden wanderlust justified. Because as far as he was concerned, it most certainly was. He needed to be away for a while. Oh, he was sure he’d go back. He would probably be gone for a few months just to clear his head, have a bit of fun, then return to face the music. But he couldn’t help but think one all-encompassing though; Only if I want to. That made him smile. My life, my rules, he said internally as he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.