The following morning, his things all shrunk and in his warded bag, Harry dressed in his charmed cloak, his invisibility cloak and a weak disillusionment charm. It was alarmingly easy to slip out of the castle, now. It always was. Hermione met him at the base of the stairs, and they huddled under the clock and snuck into the forest for a run. After stashing his bag and extra layers under the willow, they headed through the forest for their last morning run before the holidays.
"You okay Hermione?" Harry asked after a while, looking at his friend closely. She'd been really quiet that morning, and there was something that just seemed... off about her.
"Of course," she said, with a smile. But Harry just raised an eyebrow at her. She sounded exhausted and a bit too cheerful for this early in the morning, she was normally not a morning person.
"I'm fine," she said falsely.
"Are you sure? You've been a bit off this week, I thought it was just the Gryffindor situation, but I'm not so sure. Do you need anything?" He asked again.
She was silent for a long time before saying, "I'm okay."
And he left it at that, even if it sounded a little brittle. She'd tell him when she was ready. It was only when they were washing up in the change rooms later that Hermione finally said something.
"I got punched again, by one of the seventh year girls last night." She said as she towel-dried her hair
"What? What happened?" Harry asked appalled.
"They were talking about the un-housing again, and I ripped them a new one about how unfair it was, and well... I guess I hit a nerve because she punched me. She caught me by surprise I didn't have a chance to block her." Hermione said, waving her wand over her face.
The magic rippled, and the glamour fell. A glamour, that's what had been wrong, he thought. The glamour had been hiding a spectacular black eye.
"Please just stop Hermione! This is hurting you." Harry said, "it's not worth it."
I'm not worth it, went unsaid.
"No," she said shortly.
"Brave and courageous. Gryffindor all the way," he said fondly.
Hermione flicked her wand at her hair again, and it dried. A few more flicks of her wand as well as some potion and it was in neat curls tied back in a sensible ponytail.
"Yes," she agreed, "but that's not all I am. Just like it's not all you are. It's them that are letting down the house. Not us, and it infuriates me, that I can't make them see that. I'm done."
"Oh, good," Harry said relieved.
"No, I'm done with them. I'm going to leave Gryffindor. I'm done."
"Hermione you don't have to do that for me-"
"I'm not asking your permission Harry Potter; I'm telling you politely! You're not going through this alone. We're in this together. I've had enough."
"Okay okay," he said, slowly digesting it, guilt crawling in his stomach.
"Anyway, I'm not doing it just for you," she said with a grin, "I'm doing it for me too."
"Thanks, Hermione," he said eventually, pulling her into a gentle hug, "come on, I have some cream in my bag you can use on your eye."
"Oh good! I was worried, you'd really object," she said with obvious in relief, "because I've already done it," she blurted out.
Harry just laughed and hugged her again, "thanks, Hermione. Anyway, what happened? Why didn't you go to Madam Pomfrey or McGonagall?"
"Madame Pomfrey would ask questions and tell McGonagall," Hermione started. Harry narrowed his eyes slightly when he noted that she did not use the professor's title.
"She hasn't even noticed you, and it's been weeks! Did you know your robes have changed? They have the Hogwarts crest on them now; no house affiliation."
"Really?" Harry said, surprised, looking down. Sure enough, his Gryffindor crest had gone. That must be what Professor's Snape and Flitwick had been looking at. Dread pooled in his gut.
"Yep, I noticed it yesterday," Hermione said.
"If she hasn't noticed you, why would she notice me?" She continued, distracting him before he could panic further, "she hasn't done anything about it. And there's no way that anyone could not notice the tension in Gryffindor lately. Not with all the pranks Fred and George have been setting on everyone in retribution. Didn't you notice everyone was green last Tuesday?"
"Huh? I'd wondered about that." He said, pulling out a pot of salve and handing it over to her.
She snorted as she dabbed some of the thick paste over her eye, "well it came to a head last night. They were saying some awful things about you after dinner, and I lost it. I punched one of the seventh year girls who said something particularly nasty about you and your mum. It escalated to an ultimatum. If I had such a problem, I could leave. They voted and cast me out." She said matter of factly, "Fred, George and Neville came too."
"What? But? What....?" Harry stuttered.
"Fred and George said they already disappoint their mum, a bit more won't make much difference. Neville agreed actually with them, said, being declared not Gryffindor enough wouldn't surprise his Gran. He hexed McLaggan good though! He used the one George taught us last week. The Romanian one you need a proper counter for." She said with a wicked grin.
"Wow, good on you!" He said, "where are you guys staying? Are you guys, okay?"
"We went to the Room of Requirement, it gave us hammocks." She said, simply handing back the pot of salve.
"You keep it," Harry said, "I've got more. It works best if you put it on three times a day, till it's gone. It will heal it in two days I've found, for the nasty ones, a few hours for little ones. Are the others okay?"
"Thanks," she said pocketing the salve, "Yes. We got our things out no problem, they hadn't destroyed them like they did yours. Anyway," She smiled, "it's nice and peaceful there, and, all the books!"
"You sure you're okay?" He asked
"Yes, we're fine. Now come on, I know you have some time before your lesson with Bill. The train doesn't leave till 11, and they agreed to have an early breakfast with you in the kitchens."
"Are you sure you're right there? We don't know who else can get into the Room of Requirement. That's why I went to the lower dungeons. I hijacked a room and warded it." He said as they turned down the corridor to the kitchens and stopped outside the portrait of a bowl of fruit.
"We'll keep that in mind, but yes, we're fine," Hermione said as she tickled the pear and the portrait giggled and swung open.
The sea of elves parted for them, and they joined Fred, George and Neville at their usual little table by the fire in the back of the room.
"You lot okay?" Harry asked worriedly when they'd sat down. They didn't look worse for wear.
"Yeah," said Neville. He seemed to be sitting up a little straighter and seemed a bit more confident, "we got sick of hearing them bad mouth you, and we got sick of putting up with a house full of ass-holes."
"Go, Neville!" Harry said a bit shocked, by the change in the quiet boy.
"You should have seen him and Hermione, mate," they ripped the older Gryffindors a new one," Fred said with a grin.
"Hermione got Mclaggan in the nose, and then when he punched her back, Neville hexed him good!" said George.
"And they kicked us out!" Neville said proudly.
"You didn't have to-" Harry started again only to be cut off.
"Yes, we did," Neville said, "it wasn't right, and we're Gryffindors, brave and chivalrous. We won't stand by someone being wronged."
The others nodded and dug into the breakfast Winky brought them.
"I've been researching it," Hermione said, "I can't find much, but it seemed to be an old thing that doesn't actually have any negative consequences as far as I can tell. I really want to check the charter, but I can't find a copy anywhere." She said with a huff.
Harry fossicked around in his bag for a bit, then handed her his copy, "here. Flitwick gave me this one. You can borrow it, if you like. I haven't had a chance to check it yet."
"Oh, thanks, Harry!" Hermione said, going to open it only to be interrupted by three owls.
Two landed in front of Neville and Hermione. Errol, however, crashed into George, holding a red-letter.
Fred and George just looked resigned and took the red letter from a half-dead looking Errol while Fred coaxed some bacon into the tired old owl.
"We figured it would be better just to tell them last night and get it over with," Neville said gingerly taking his own white letter from the regal-looking owl his Gran had sent.
No sooner had Neville finished speaking than the Howler burst open filling the kitchen with Molly Weasleys shrieking.
It was not nice.
The yelling went on and on for a full 10 minutes ranging from being sick of their misbehaving and throwing their education away, to the twins shaming the family, the first to be un-housed in a century and, the first not to be in Gryffindor! She went on about how much of a disappointment they were and that she didn't want to hear another thing about them for the rest of the year or they would be sorry!
The twins seemed used to her yelling and looked like they were just going to brush it off as if it didn't matter. But Harry could see the slight slump in their shoulders, the slight tension in George's hands as he cut up more tiny bits of bacon for Errol and, the slight disappointment in Fred's eyes as he fed it to the owl.
Harry thought it was a bit unfair of her. It was a bit of a shock actually. Molly had always seemed like such a perfect mum. It seemed harsh for her to be giving the twins such a dressing down. It didn't seem fair. But then, she had been unusually angry at their prank sweets for the Quidditch World Cup...
"Are you okay?" Asked Hermione.
George sighed, and Fred said, "she thinks we're wasting our education by wanting to open a joke shop. She wants us to be more serious and studious and go into the Ministry. She wants us to be another Percy really. She doesn't like us much. Just the idea of who we should be."
"Don't get us wrong. She loves us a lot, we're her kids. She just wants different things from what we want. And she thinks we're not good enough as we are. We should aim to be what she wants for us, you see. We're just a bit of a disappointment to her." Fred continued when it was clear that George wasn't going to say anything.
"Bill explained it to us once," he went on, "she loves us dearly. She prides herself in being a good mum, and she wants what's best for us. But she has very strict ideas of what that is. She gets very upset when we don't conform to those things."
"Why do you think Bill and Charlie live overseas and don't come home too often," George said rhetorically. "They don't like being on the receiving end of hearing how much their choices aren't good enough and they should come home and get a proper job, a proper hair cut or do something useful and safe with their life."
"She means well," said Fred, as if it were something he'd been told endlessly.
"She just goes about wanting what's best for her kids in all the wrong ways," George added in the same way.
"She shouldn't have sent you a howler for that. You guys did nothing wrong by standing up for a friend." Hermione said, hotly.
"Yeah, but she doesn't see it that way. It's how she shows that she cares," said, George.
"Anyhow, it doesn't matter, this is just another fuck up, in a long line," Fred said flippantly "anyway, what did your Gran say, Neville? Was she disappointed too?"
"No! Actually," Neville said, sounding as stunned as he looked. "I thought she'd be mad at me for being a disappointment again! But she was really pleased. 'said I'd done my family proud and said I'm starting to live up to my dad at long last.
She said she was proud of me! She's never said that before."
"Well done Neville," the twins said. "Good for you."
Neville beamed and tucked the letter carefully into his pocket, "what about you, Hermione? Did you hear back from your parents about Christmas?"
Hermione sighed, "yes."
"Wait, what happened?" Harry asked, taking another bite of his toast.
"They want me home for Christmas." Hermione sighed, "I wrote to tell them about the Yule Ball and how I wouldn't be home for Christmas. They didn't care last year or the year before! I don't see why they'd care now." She said, slightly bitterly.
And Harry realised she very rarely talked about her parents.
"What happened?" he asked gently
"They feel I'm being too distant," she said bitterly. "They want me home for Christmas so we can get together as a family, and get to know one another again."
"Is that a bad thing?" Harry asked tentatively
"Yes," Hermione said bluntly, "they never cared much before. Why start now?"
She signed again and said, "I was a bit of a surprise. They were married and had their own shiny dental business. While they didn't really have time for a child, it was the done thing. So they hired nannies to look after me and had my life planned for me. I know they love me, but I think its more the idea. They don't really know me. And then McGonagall came, and it was so exciting! But then they realised it would mean I wouldn't go on to run their practice when they retired. And they're not so keen on the magical world now. They just don't understand." She said with a huff.
"We were never close. I was always too curious, always pestering them with questions, too bookish, not interested enough in the things they thought I should to be. They wanted me to take piano and ballet classes, but all I wanted to do was read." She said, slightly deprecatingly.
"I wanted to be a teacher or a lawyer when I was a kid, but they insisted that I'd be a dentist. I was relieved to get my letter. It meant I'd have some choice. But we've been growing further apart. It seems they've decided to do something about it."
She sighed again, "I hate it. I'm not who they want me to be. I don't fit into that world. I worry they're trying to take me away from my world."
He'd had no idea things at home had been so stressful for her. They always seemed so normal, even if she never said much about them.
"I managed to persuade them to let me come back for the ball, then go home again. Hopefully, this means they'll actually take some time off to spend with me this year, not just keep working. And the ball here means I won't have to go to their huge charity gala. Normally they make me go so they can show me off. It's not much fun." she said bitterly.
"I guess this is the best of both worlds then," Neville said, "you get to keep them happy, and get to come back for the ball."
She nodded, "yes, it was a compromise. I'm glad they agreed. If I'd pushed it, I was worried they may try to withdraw me."
"They can't," Neville said. "Non-magical parents can't withdraw a magical child from school before the NEWTs. It's not legal. Not without your magical guardian's permission. It wouldn't be safe for you. You probably have enough magical control, but you need to use it regularly while your magical core is developing." Neville said.
Hermione slumped with relief, "oh, good!"
"Cheer up, Hermione," Fred said, "it won't be so bad. We'll all write to you over the break."
"Thanks," she said, smiling again, "I should probably go and tell McGonagall what my parents have decided."
"Don't you have a lesson with Bill now, Harry?" George asked.
"Oh!" Harry said, jumping up, "I do!"
"Say hi for us!" Fred said.
"Will do," Harry said as he followed Hermione from the Kitchens.
"I'll meet you on the train at 11 o'clock." She said before leaving the kitchens to find McGonagall.
*
Harry was a bit late to meet Bill, who was already waiting for him. They'd agreed to do a short early lesson today. Bill had been working on an important dig in Egypt and was about to close it up. It had been in the works for ages, so it was important he was there for it over the next week. It sounded exciting, but it did mean he wouldn't see Harry for a few days and wouldn't be able to take him to Knockturn or Gringotts for the start of the holidays. So they'd agreed to do an early lesson before he left.
"Sorry I'm late, I got caught up, Hermione-" Harry started as he rushed in, but Bill just caught him by the shoulders, "it's okay Harry, breathe. I don't mind."
"Oh," Harry said deflating as his panic, built from years of being yelled by his relatives for the slightest infraction, melted out of him.
"Thanks," he said, giving Bill a hug, "hi."
Bill hugged him back fondly and said, "so Occlumency first?"
"Yes please."
They spent some more time on Occlumency. Harry was getting better at it, though it was difficult and he had not managed yet to get as far as finding the centre of his mind.
Bill then started taking Harry though what his role as an Heir would be, what to expect when he took up his heir rings and how that process worked. It was interesting, but a little daunting too. Harry had the bows and formalities down pat by now. The Slytherins had been teaching him well, and he could act the part of an heir. But they hadn't been able to teach him to be an heir or a lord, that was their older siblings.
So Bill started taking him through the process he'd go through at the bank of doing the induction ritual into his families that would then allow him to step up as heir. They also ended up with a little bit of time before they both had to go. So Bill explained Nocturne Alley a little bit more to Harry.
"Like Diagon Alley, Nocturne Alley is a whole district. It can be a genuinely dangerous place, so you have to understand some of the more unspoken rules and etiquette for Nocturne alley." He'd explained.
"But first, while the outsiders call it Knockturn Alley, it was originally named Nocturne. Nocturne is a piece of dark music."
"A Nocturne is inspired by, or evocative of, the night," Harry chipped in. As a child, he had not been above reading a dictionary or an encyclopaedia to stave off boredom when locked up for long hours.
"Just so," Bill explained. "The alley was named by its denizens. It's a nocturnal place full of Darke culture. But the ministry came along in one of its bids to wipe out the Darke and changed the name in an effort to bring it up to the Lyght standards and wipe out the seedier side of the Wizarding world as well. All they really managed was pushing the Darke underground and making Nocturne stubbornly shadier and seedier, with those shunned and on the sides taking shelter there. Nocturne housed the seedier, less legal underbelly of the Wizarding world as well as the Darke culture."
"Now, Nocturne is both, just as dangerous and not as dangerous as its reputation suggests." Bill explained, and Harry could hear the faint worry in his voice, "Kockturne is general refuting the first 100m or so of the alley leading from Diagon. It's open during the day and is often dirtier, shadier, and the ministry thinks they control it. That leads into Nocturne Proper, which is where Gringott's back door is located. That place is completely nocturnal, is outside Ministry control, though they'll never admit it, and is much freer than Knockturn. It is made up of quite a few other alleys all spiralling together to make up Nocturne Proper."
"It's not too dangerous or unsafe if you stick to the rules," Bill went on, "Nocturne has an unspoken etiquette. The rules are a bit different. First of all, show no weakness. Especially as an outsider, it will be exploited, and outsiders are often scared off. They're tested. So act like you belong and that you know what you're doing, even if you don't.
Secondly, don't poke your nose in other peoples business and expect it not to be bitten off. People don't take kindly to others poking their nose where it doesn't belong, especially outsiders. Keep your nose clean, stay out of other peoples business. The rules are all tougher and harsher in Nocturne because it's a tougher, harsher place. That's not to say it's a bad place or an unkind place, it looks after its own. Just different. And it can be dangerous if you're not careful. Everyone there has been prosecuted or shunned in some way. It means they can be both prickly and at times understanding if you're one of their own. Which you're not. So don't forget it." Bill went on.
"Another thing, hardly anyone uses their real names, so don't ask someone if it's their real name. It's rude. Just as no-one else will ask if whatever name you give them is your real name. Be cautious. People will use things against you if they can. Having said that, though, Nocturne looks after its own." Bill repeated.
"And Respect. Always respect others Harry. And don't call the aurors. Nocturne deals with things in house. There are many runaways, and people with things to hide; don't pry, and don't drawn in outside trouble. Darke culture is more prominent, don't ask about it. It causes trouble for you if people think you're an outsider and people are distrustful of outsiders. That all make sense?" He asked.
Harry thought about it for a moment, then nodded.
"Good, and Harry?" Bill asked, looking concerned. "I know you can look after yourself, but be careful, please. When in doubt run, and if you can't do that, Hex first and ask questions later, that's the Nocturne way. Nocturne can be dangerous. It has, to an extent, earned it's reputation okay?"
Harry nodded.
"Sweet, keep your wand on you at all times, don't be afraid to use it, and I know you can use a knife, keep that on you too, use it if you need to."
When Harry patted his boot, where his knife (or one of them,) was hidden now, Bill nodded and changed the subject, "now let's put some wards and spells and things into your clothes. I meant to show you earlier but didn't get a chance. It will help ward off hexes." Bill said.
They worked on the protection bands after that and almost perfected the rune set to recycle the magical energy. Bill enjoyed it a lot.
It blew up in their face a fair but and Harry apologised profusely for wasting Bill's time. It hadn't worked yet, but Bill just grinned and said, "Nah this is great. I'm learning loads. You think and use magic in really different, innovative ways. This is brilliant. Better than my versions which are spells."
"Really? Show me," Harry asked eagerly, sucking up Bill's shared knowledge like a sponge.
In the end, he combined the two, and they got the recycle thing going. First they tested it out on the shield bands with minor stinging hexes. Then, trip jinxes, and managed to get it to get it to hold up against a stunner before it buckled and blew up. Harry was so excited that it worked he actually jumped up and hugged Bill, laughing with excitement.
Harry was almost late for the train and Bill had to apparate him straight to the Hogsmeade platform, from the grounds of the Shack. Bill had offered to apparate Harry straight to Gringotts, but Harry said he'd use the cloak and take the train. They expected him to stay, so it shouldn't be a problem. Besides, he'd promised his first years to help them with their holiday work. But really, he'd never been able to take the train over the school break, and Harry really wanted to see if it was any different than at the start and end of the year.
"Again, I'm sorry I can't stay today and help you get settled in Nocturne. But, the Unhinged Door is a semi-decent place to stay if you're on a tight budget. So is the Murder Mile Motel, though that is a bit more expensive." Bill said, giving Harry a hug.
"I know, and The Hung Drawn 'n' Quarters is dirt cheap if I'm desperate, but I'll get more dirt than I bargained for because Dung owns it." Harry parroted with a smile, "don't worry, I'll be fine."
It was too odd to have anyone worrying about him to be really irritated by it. Not when it was coming from Bill.
Bill ruffled Harry's hair and gave him another hug, reluctant to leave. Something about Harry made all Bill's protective instincts stand on end. He was a strong kid, though, "I'll see you at Gringotts in a few days. I'll be there for the Ritual," before he gave Harry another hug and apparating away.
The train ride was mostly the same as it always was. Hermione was sitting in their usual compartment with the Hogwarts charter on her lap and looked up when the door opened, but no one came in. She just nodded at Harry, who she'd correctly guessed was under his cloak, and kept reading.
Harry didn't relax until the train had left the Hogsmeade Station and had well and truly pulled away from the school. It was only then that he took off his invisibility cloak and lowered his hood.
"Hey," he said, "how'd it go with the professor?" He asked her.
She shrugged, "she helped me work it all out, so we could keep both worlds happy. We agreed I'd come back the day before the ball, and we agreed I'd go home on Christmas Morning."
"Which means you'll still get to go to the ball. But it will keep your parents happy too." Harry said
She nodded, "yes,"
"Well, do you want to meet my study group?" Harry asked, "I didn't think you'd be on the train so I promised them I'd help them with their holiday homework, so they'd have less to worry about over the break."
"Oh?" Hermione said, "your Slytherin first years?"
"Yes."
All the Slytherin first years were in one larger compartment that was normally taken up by some of the older years. Harry introduced Hermione with the proper formalities. To the first year's surprise, she replied and greeted them all in with the proper etiquette that had them all relaxing a little. Not enough for her to notice, but enough for Harry to. He'd spent quite a lot of time around them this term and was starting to see through their reserved natures, and Slytherin masks. After all, it takes one to know one.
The first years were quiet and reserved around Hermione, who they didn't really know. She also wasn't a Slytherin, and as the least popular house, the Slytherins were often weird around the other houses.
Harry didn't count, as Astoria had told him, "you speak our founders tongue and could have been a Slytherin, that makes you an honorary snake!"
But soon they warmed up once she'd helped explain a particularly complicated bit of transfiguration theory to Alice. They were joined by some second-year Slytherins and a few third years, once word got around that Harry was tutoring on the train. They got most of their homework done, and they have a fun ride, practising Defence Against the Dark Arts.
*
When the train pulled into Kings Cross, Harry had his things in his warded bag. He had managed to put runes on it allowing him to shrink it with a tap of his wand. The magic was too passive to be detected by the underage magic rule, which allowed him to use it out of school and away from wizarding areas.
Harry said goodbye to Hermione on the magical side of the platform before going to find his aunt. She was waiting on the other side with a familiar fierce scowl of pure loathing. Harry just put his wand and tiny bag into his pocket and said nothing. He took a deep breath and pushed all emotion deep down into the little box in his gut until he felt nothing at all and walked up towards her.
The drive back to no.4 was filled with a stoney silence. She set him to work immediately, cleaning the bedrooms and the bathrooms, before sending him out to do the gardens and the weeding in the cold dark night air while they had dinner.
She set him an intimidatingly long list of chores to do in payment for her cooperation and the threat of being truly sorry if he skimped on them, or if he came back at all the following summer.
He was thoroughly cowed by his aunt's threats. Personally, he had no intention of ever seeing them again if he could possibly avoid it. And a small part of him (that had no self-preservation) did not care if he pissed them off. They were lucky he was doing anything for them at all. But knowing his luck, he didn't want to risk pissing them off too much, just in case, he was forced to go back in the Summer.
He worked all evening in the house, scrubbing it within an inch of its life, trying to work around his relatives without drawing his uncles ire. There was a vein throbbing in his uncle's temple, and Harry was relieved when they went to bed. He only had a few rooms left to scrub before he could move on to all his outside chores and the cooking preparation.
He was an old hand at doing a complete go over of the house by now. His aunt made him do it once a month for as long as he could remember. It didn't take as long as it used to, to finish the cleaning. It was not as bad as it normally was at the end of the year. Maybe he could sneak a nap before the gardening. She hadn't given him cooking or Christmas decorating chores this time!
He headed upstairs, avoiding the creaking step... but frowned at the sight of the door to Dudley's second bedroom.
It had been replaced. There were no traces of the cat flap or the many locks. He opened the door. They'd turned it into a home office! The window with its broken bars had been replaced. The broken junk and falling apart furniture had been replaced. Now it was clean and shiny looking. It smelled of new paint and new carpet. It had a shiny white desk in the corner along with a shiny new computer, a brand new wheelie chair, a bookcase and a comfy looking couch.
They'd removed all traces of him. It shouldn't hurt. He'd known for longer than he'd know his own name that they hated his guts. He'd known they wanted nothing to do with him. But this was fast, even for them.
It shouldn't hurt. But it did.
He sighed again, then spotted a note on the door. Typical. More work to do. Never a thank you or a moments rest. Honestly, why did he put up with this? He could just go. But if Dumbledore forced him back somehow, he shivered, he knew better than to disobey.
He read the note, written in his aunts angry angular writing.
"Freak, don't think you can get away with slacking, even if you finish the house and garden, you still have the Christmas cooking to do! I expect it to be all out this year, and don't forget to decorate properly!"
Harry let out another gusty, but always silent, sigh and mechanically started the cooking. He knew what they wanted, what they made him make every year. Thank the gods this was the last time.
He baked biscuits and gingerbread houses and fruitcake, and the Christmas puddings for his aunt's lady's lunches. He was, as always, quieter than a mouse, mixing things by hand, cutting things carefully and quietly, knowing better than to risk waking his relatives. He prepared all sorts of Christmassy foods, bitterly resenting the fact that once again he wouldn't get to eat any of it! His aunt knew the exact amounts that would be produced. She'd know if he nicked some. She always did. And he wouldn't put it past her to come down to check on him in the night. She normally locked him up at night, not trusting him in the house unsupervised. He knew he had no choice but to toe the line unless he wanted the hiding of a lifetime.
While the food was baking or boiling in batches, he covered the house in tinsel and fake holly and other Christmas decorations. He plugged lights in and decked the house out like he hadn't had to in years. It did not bring anything pleasant back. He was relieved to get out of the stiflingly clean and Christmassy house to start the garden chores.
He was exhausted by that time and had to fight to stay awake. He had the garden path to scrub, the shed to tidy, windows to scrub and a fence to paint. On top of all the weeding, the pruning and watering. And that was before he could do the outside decorating! It took the rest of the night to get it all done, between going back inside to top up the pots of boiling water, that the puddings were cooking in.
When the garden was done, and he'd washed up, he had enough time to prepare the full English breakfast for his uncle and cousin and a fruit salad for his aunt. Just in time, too. He knew what he'd get from his uncle if he was still there when he got downstairs, and it wouldn't be a Christmas present!
"You're cutting it fine!" His aunt snapped in greeting after she'd inspected his work. He allowed himself to sag slightly in relief when she didn't tell him to re-do everything. It must have been at least adequate, then.
"Well!" She snapped, "get out of here! And don't expect anything else from us! And don't you dare ever come back!"
Harry left, pulling up the hood of his coat up to hide his face. He pulled out the last half sandwich Dobby had packed. Everything ached.
He'd nicked some loose change when he was doing all the laundry, and it was just enough to get a bus ticket. He didn't have enough Wizarding money for the Knight Bus and didn't want any wizards knowing where he'd gone.
He had been worried that someone would recognise him, so he had pulled out a black hooded frock coat from his mum's wardrobe and used it to cover his face. It seemed to have similar charms to his cloak, to keep him warm and his face hidden. And it was muggle enough, at a glance. It looked Victorian and not wizarding. He kept the hood up, no-one even looked twice at him. It was glorious.
Despite his exhaustion, he was too alert to fall asleep on the bus. But he did doze lightly, keeping one ear pricked, one hand on his knife (he couldn't risk using his wand here) and the other on his bag strap. He knew better than to risk letting his guard down completely. He didn't trust anyone not to try something.
When the bus final dropped Harry in London, he wearily trudged through the back alleyways. After putting his wizarding cloak around his shoulders too, now that he was away from muggles. He put it's hood up as well for extra protection.
Harry slipped easily into Nocturne without being seen. He couldn't risk being recognised. Harry Potter could not be in 'Knockturn Alley!' And the fewer people that knew his whereabouts, the safer he'd be.
But no-one asked. Bill had been right. The people of Nocturne didn't nose into other peoples business. Harry was relieved to be able to hold his wand in his hand openly again as he wandered down the alley. He was relieved to be surrounded by magic again, and Nocturne's Darke and wild magic was comforting. Even with its subtle threatening untamed edge. It felt homey. Almost like Harry belonged.
The magic was heavier the further in he went, away from the outer alley that joined onto Diagon Alley. The entrance to Nocturne, off Diagon, was called Knockturn. It was quieter, and had a more neglected feel. It's magic had a slightly more sinister feel and Harry wondered if it was deliberately so, to warn away outsiders.
Nocturne Alley as a whole, had a Darker feel to it as if the weak winter sunlight didn't quite penetrate its magical haze. The alley here was less dirty and dilapidated compared to the small outer Knockturn. It seemed less neglected and more deliberately kept dark, creepy and gothic. The spider webs in some windows seemed to have been cultivated as if it was just part of the style of the place. He liked it.
The further into the alley he went, the quieter it got, as true Nocturne was nocturnal. The shops and vendors were closing up for the day now the sun was rising. While Diagon would just be waking up, Nocturne seemed to be winding down. It had a slightly slower sleepier air to it now than the last time he was here.