Dreams
Harry was jolted awake, his eyes searched his surroundings. His throat cinstricted a second before he remembered where he was. His cloak still covered him from head to toe, thankfully. His breathing evened out as he recalled yesterday's events. It felt odd that it was only yesterday that dementors decided to visit Surrey, it was only yesterday that he had decided to run away.
Harry stood up, his legs shaky after having slept on the floor in the corner of the carriage. He could see light pour through the windows, the proof that he had indeed slept several hours. This was the first time he rode train that wasn't the Hogwarts express so he had no idea on how to check where he was. That problem were solved a second later when a loud speaker announced their arrival.
Paris, they had reached paris!
Harry felt almost giddy at the thought, he had actually done it. He managed to leave the country and were currently on the continent. He smiled at his success and pressed himself against the nearest wall. He would have to exit the train last to try to avoid walking into someone. He didn't want to start his visit with giving some poor muggle an heart attack by colliding with a ghost.
It all went quicker than Harry thought was possible, and he almost walked into five people while trying to navigate through the thick crowd at the station. It were full of people, and the further he walked the less english could be heard. He kind of wished that he could understand french as it was disconcerting walking around and being surrounded by conversations which had sentences with words he couldn't separate. It all seemed to flow together and he couldn't help but wonder if english sounded the same to people who didn't speak it. For the first time in his life he felt quite restricted with only knowing one language, parseltongue didn't count.
He were grateful for the familiar sign indicating a restroom, he hadn't taken a leak since he left Privet drive. He hadn't dared to step into train's restroom as it would be hard to explain if someone would manage to see a door simply closing and opening itself. He quickly found an empty stall and discarded his cloak. He didn't know where he could go now but he felt that it would easier to get through the crowds being visible.
---
Harry felt quite stupid traipsing down the streets of Paris while holding a poorly folded cloak against his chest. Why hadn't he brought a bag or something?
Several thoughts entered his head while he walked, he had been proud of his exit of Britain an hour ago but as the time went by he started to doubt himself. He was a fifteen year old all alone in another country. He had money, his wand and his cloak. But he didn't dare use magic in case they would be able to track him. And the money were in galleons. He had thought that he were smart in not exchanging it but it felt foolish now, because he didn't know where he could exchange it now. He doubted that he could pay for a room with golden blocks, they would surely call the cops at him. Because how could a teenager have that kind of gold?
So Harry reckoned that he was officially homeless. It was daytime now and he had gotten quite a bit of sleep on the train but for each day there was a night and he had no idea on where he could spend these nights. There had to be something like Diagon alley here but he had no idea where and it wasn't like he could ask someone.
His hand made a movement to drag through his hair, a habit that would only worsen the unruly locks, but it was stopped by the cap. A yellow one. He had managed to nick it at the station after realizing that the nest of hair on his head were too recognisble. He couldn't do anything about the glasses but the cap did a good job at hiding his hair. But he knew that he were breaking some kind of rule by the looks som people gave him, Dudley's old red jumper, the too big jeans and the yellow hat weren't that well matched. Even he could admit that.
He soon reached a park, it wasn't that big but it had some bushes and trees. Some of the bushes seemed very tight, the leaves shielded them thoroughly. He felt himself relax a bit, he could sleep there tonight. He knew that he would probably freeze a bit during the night but that was okay. It was colder in England and his aunt had made him sleep in the garden many summer nights when they had wanted the house free from freakishness.
He could do this.
---
Harry spent the day exploring the surrounding of the park, trying to see any sign of magic. He had decided to wear his cloak which had made it easier for him to nick things, a bottle of water from someone's backpack, a sandwich from a shop and even some money. He knew that he should have felt bad about stealing, a gryffindor would never steal. But Harry couldn't bring himself to care, he had tried to form himself after what a true gryffindor was for too long. He had always nicked things as a child, it was the only way he could sate his hunger some days. It had been as natural as breathing. But then he got his letter and started to hear all these stories about his parents, about how wonderful they were. True gryffindors. It had made him want to be different, to be the Harry he could have been if he still had parents. A Harry Potter who was chivalrous, selfless, honest and brave. He had chosen gryffindor and the Dumbledore were right when he said that it's all about choices.
Harry's choice right now was to do whatever it took to survive and if he had discard his house to do that then very well. He had been Harry far longer than he'd been a gryffindor.
---
The night were colder than he thought, he covered himself in his cloak while trying to make himself as small as possible in his chosen bush. It weren't exactly comfortable but it had to do. His thoughts wandered to those he had left behind. He were still quite angry at Hermione and Ron, they had barely contacted him the whole summer and all their letters were worthless. He felt abandoned by his only friends and he couldn't care less for their reasons. He pulled out his wand, it felt the same as it had always done. It felt warm with a promise of something he couldn't really make out. His wand which they had wanted to snap. Well kind of. They had retracted and wanted to call him to a hearing, but he wouldn't risk it. A part of him knew that his actions had ben rash and he may have only made it worse for himself.
No, he knew that he made it worse. The ministry would surely want to banish him forever after this but why should he care? He had no doubt in his mind that the hearing was a ruse, they had wanted to snap his wand before even hearing his side of the story. Convict him without any grounds what so ever. Just like they had done with Sirius. The thought of his godfather made him close his eyes. He felt bad for leaving him behind without any word. Sirius were the only person who had ever shown real concern for him. His concern was the only one that felt genuine. Dumbledore had plan's for him, Harry wasn't stupid enough to not know that. Hermione and Ron didn't understand, to them he were Harry Potter The-boy-who-lived. He wasn't sure about Professor Lupin, the man was a conundrum. He seemed to care but he wouldn't show it, Harry didn't know if it was becuseof his lycantrophy and frankly he didn't care. Lupin didn't want to partake in Harry's life and so Harry would not spend any time thinking about him.
Sirius were different. He had been locked away and while Harry felt bitter about how his revenge against Pettigrew had been seen as more important than Harry, he couldn't help but forgive him. Harry were ready to forgive all of Sirius faults because he was the only who had ever offered him a home.
He sighed and held his wand tighter, he would dream of a home that night.