Chapter 1

Tearing his eyes from the sight of Uncle Vernon hanging onto Aunt Marge as Ripper ravaged his good leather brogues, Harry raced around the upturned dining table toward the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard door burst open as he reached it Great, more expulsion worth accidental magic, wonderful. Within seconds, he heaved his trunk to the front door. He sprinted upstairs and threw himself under the bed, popping up the loose floorboard and grabbed the pillowcase filled with his books and birthday presents. He wriggled out, glanced at Hedwig’s too small, battered empty cage and bolted back down the stairs, tossing everything but his wand into the top of the trunk and latching it shut.

“MARGE COME BACK!” still echoed from the back garden as Uncle Vernon futilely tried to pull his inflated sister from the sky and back into the house.  

The next moment, Harry slipped out of the front door and across the garden without looking back.

Harry was several streets away before he collapsed onto the low wall in front of Miss Anna’s house on Magnolia Crescent. Panting as the adrenaline and anger bled from his body, exhaustion and panic filled him. He could not just knock on Miss Anna’s door. Yes, she was kind to him over the summer, letting him escape the Dursleys in her garden, but that didn’t mean that she wanted him to just invite himself over. No one wanted him really, Not the Dursleys, not even the Weasleys really. He was always the outsider.

He was stranded in the dark, in the muggle world, sure that another letter for his expulsion was on its way right now.

Shivering, he looked up and down Magnolia Crescent. What to do, what to do. If the Weasleys were in the country, he might be able to get to them if he could get to the Leaky Cauldron in London, but the entire family was away on holiday. So was Hermione, and he had no idea where she lived in the muggle world anyway. He had even left Hedwig at school to keep her safe from Uncle Vernon and Dudley after all the threats to kill her last summer.

Regardless, he needed to get to somewhere safe and he needed money. Money meant getting to Gringotts. London and the Leaky Cauldron it was then. Trudging further up Magnolia Crescent to the bus stop at the edge of the park, Harry tried to come up with a plan to get to London without any Muggle funds. If only he could get on without anyone noticing…Oh hell, the bloody cloak! Under the shelter and light of the bus stop, Harry rummaged around in his trunk until he had the invisibility cloak in hand.

Luck on his side for once, the next bus scheduled would take him to Pumping Station in the middle of Surrey where the next train to London would be leaving with enough time for Harry to get aboard.

Once in London, Harry had a bit of trial and error getting from Waterloo station over to Charing Cross Road and the Leaky Cauldron. Between the turnstiles, his heavy trunk, and no money to buy a ticket, he missed several trains trying to figure out how to get through the Tube Station.

Finally arriving in front of the Leaky Cauldron utterly exhausted and well after midnight, he just wanted to see if the Leaky rented rooms and to go to sleep.

“There you are, Harry,” said a voice from the flickering entrance to the pub.

Before Harry could react, he felt a hand clamp tight on his shoulder. Looking up from the hand to its owner, his stomach turned to lead. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

Fudge increased the pressure on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry found himself being steered inside the pub. A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar.

“You’ve got him, Minister!” said Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord. “Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?

“Perhaps a pot of tea,” responded Fudge, who still hadn’t let go of Harry and his hand was starting to tingle. “In a private parlor, please Tom.”

With a bob of Tom’s head, Fudge marched Harry along the narrow passage after Tom’s lantern, and then into a small parlor. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire bursting into life on grate and he bowed himself out of the room.

“Sit down, Harry,” finally releasing his shoulder, Fudge pushed Harry into a fading wingback chair by the hearth. Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak, tossing it over another chair by the window and sat in the matching chair opposite Harry. A tray of tea and biscuits popped into being on the low table between them as Fudge stared at Harry and Harry tried his best not to fidget and to disappear into the upholstery.

“Well, Harry,” said Fudge, startling Harry out of his nervous silence, bumping the tea table, “you’ve had us all in a right flap, I don’t mind telling you. Runing away from your aunt and uncle’s house like that! I’d started to think… but you’re safe, and that’s what matters.”

“Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then … you will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with unfortunate blowing -up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members for the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad were dispatched to Privet Dive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incidents at all. So that’s that, and no harm done.”

Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying a favorite nephew. Harry thought it was unnerving and just stared at the man across from him in confusion. Wasn’t he expelled? After last summer when Dobby caused all those problems, Harry was sure that this was it.

“Ah, you’re worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?” guessed Fudge. I wasn’t but I am now! “Well, I won’t deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays.”

Harry finally managed to open his mouth. “I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays. And I do not ever want to go back to Privet Drive.”

“now, now, I’m sure you’re feel differently once you’ve calmed down,” said Fudge in a worried tone. “They are your family, after all, and I’m sure that you are fond on each other…er... very deep down.”

It didn’t occur to Harry to put Fudge right. No one ever listened to him about it anyway. He was still waiting to hear what was going to happen to him now. That was the most important part and the reason he hadn’t fallen asleep sitting up.

“So all that remains is to decide where you are going to spend the last three weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and – “

“Hang on,” blurted Harry, unable to contain himself as the Minister bumbled about with whatever he was going on about now. “What about my punishment?”

Fudge just blinked at him like a mentally challenged owl. “Punishment?”

“I broke the law! The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry?”

“Oh, my dear boy. Accidental magic. We’re not going to punish you for a little thing like that!” cried Fudge. “It was an accident. We don’t send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!”

This didn’t line up with previous dealings with the Ministry of Magic that Harry had before. “Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle’s house! The Ministry of Magic said I’d be expelled from Howards if there was any more magic there!”

Fudge looked cagey. “Circumstances change, harry… We have to take into account … in the present climate  …  Surely you don’t want to be expelled?”

“Of course I don’t!”

“Well then, what’s all the fuss about?” laughed Fudge, looking relieved. “Now, have a crumpet and some tea, Harry, while I go and see if Tom’s got a room for you.”

Fudge strode out of the parlor, pinstripe cloak over one arm and what looked to be an unfortunate lime green bowler hat in one hand. Harry stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for him at eh Leaky Cauldron? And now Harry thought about it, surely it wasn’t usual for the Minister of Magic to get involved in matters of underage magic.

Fudge popped his head back in, Tom the innkeeper behind him.

“Room eleven’s free, Harry,” said Fudge. “ I think you’ll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I’m sure you’ll understand … I don’t want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you’re to be back here before dark each night. Sure you‘ll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me.”

“Okay … ,” Harry replied slowly, “ but why - ?”

“Don’t want to lose you again, do we? Said Fudge with a hearty laugh, “No, no … best we know where you are … I  am ...”  Fudge cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, I’ll be off, plenty to do , you know.. “

With that, Fudge turned and disappeared down the hallway back to the main pub and exit.

Trunk in hand, Harry followed Tom up the rickety stairs to door eleven. Not even bothering with a candle, Harry toed off his trainers and let his oversized trousers fall to the floor. Crawling into the bed under the window, Harry let exhaustion claim him.

Safe, for now anyway.