Chapter Text
The sun was beating down on the large square houses of Privet Drive. All of the shining cars had been pulled into their driveways, and the perfect lawns shone bright green in the sun. Every inhabitant of the street had retreated into their cool homes. The only person still outdoors was a teenage boy laying flat on his back in the back garden. He was a skinny black haired boy who had the pinched, slightly unhealthy look of someone who had grown a lot in a short space of time. It didn't help that his clothes were far too big for him, making him seem even skinnier than he was. But Harry Potter's appearance was the least of his worries.
Rolling over and sitting up so that the sun shone on his face, he decided it was about time to retreat inside, and pull something together to eat. Stepping into the kitchen he pulled the fridge open and disappointment washed over him. Half a bottle of milk, and 3 eggs. That was all that was left. The milk had probably gone off days ago. Harry shut the door and pressed his forehead against the cool white surface.
Two weeks
That's how long the Dursleys had been gone. Two whole weeks they had left Harry to fend for himself. Two whole weeks since they had packed up their things and driven off. Two weeks since Uncle Vernon had screamed at Harry telling him he was to never come anywhere near him or his family again. Harry let out a sigh. He had thought that they just needed some time to cool off and that they would be back in a day. But now the silence that had washed over Number 4 Privet Drive felt permanent.
Harry didn't much mind the silence that overtook the house. In fact he found it peaceful. It gave him time to practice his schoolwork (without doing any actual magic, since he wanted no more trouble with the ministry), and he was able to write to his friends freely. Though Harry was quite annoyed with his friends' letters. They had all been so vague, even Sirius’ letters were no good.
They all seemed to be along the same lines of
“We can't say much about you-know what… obviously”
“We’ve been told not to say anything important in case our letters end up in unwanted hands…”
“There's a lot going on, but I can't say here. We will tell you what we can when we see you.”
This caused Harry to be so frustrated. That he hadn't even bothered to tell anyone that he had been left with no food or money for 2 weeks.
The thought about sending an owl to Ron or Hermione had crossed his mind, but then he thought about what they would say.
“Mate you should write to Dumbledore, He’ll know what to do. And I'll ask Dad. The ministry might know something about muggle abandonment?”
Yes that's what Ron would say he should write to Dumbledore and in the meantime he would ask his dad. Harry was sure Dumbledore wouldn't care though. Besides, he had been the one to leave him here. He probably already knew about the Dursleys and Harry certainly didn’t want anything to do with the Ministry. Especially after they had threatened to expel him for saving him and his cousins neck
Hermione would probably say something along the same lines, and besides he didn't want to bother them with something as simple as being left home alone. What would they even think? That he couldn't take care of himself. No, he wouldn't let them think that. He would just have to work it out himself. Harry was so fed up with all the vague letters that he didn't even want to talk to them. Not unless they were going to give him some sort of information.
He would just have to go a bit longer without eating. Thinking it would be best to look around the house for some money, so that he could buy some form of food. He would have to face the wrath of the Dursleys when they got back. The worst that could happen is Harry would get a slight beating. Maybe locked in his room with no meals or a screaming match with Uncle Vernon, and Harry was perfectly ok with that. It was nothing he hadn't faced before, and in any case the Dursleys hadn't shown their faces yet so Harry had no reason to think that they would any time soon.
***
After an hour of searching through every cupboard and drawer, Harry had scraped together £2. Harry sighed. There was no way he was going to be able to get enough food with £2. He stared down at the coins spread across the counter. He would have to find something else. Flopping down on the couch he sifted through his options in his head.
He could reach out to Ron and Hermione and ask for help. No, that was no good. They would all pity him, and that was the last thing that Harry wanted. They all already thought he was a fragile little boy that was on the verge of breaking after Cedric's death and Voldemort's return to power. And the last thing Harry wanted was for people to pity him even more than they already did. He would just have to keep up the charade that everything was ok. And it was. At least that's what Harry kept telling himself. A few missed meals was nothing that he hadn't experienced before. No asking Ron and Hermione for help was out of the picture. Besides if they weren't telling him anything he wasn't going to tell them anything either.
Harry ran through his other options. He could ask the neighbours? No. That was definitely not an option. Every one of the residents of Privet Drive thought he was a good for nothing brat who went to St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. They would definitely think he was trying to rob them. Aunt Petunia and Dudley had made sure that every person on the street thought he was a liar.
Harry let out a sigh. He was just going to have to starve. There was nothing that he could do. Or… Harry let the idea run through his head. Everyone already thought he was a delinquent, and most of the wizarding world thought him to be a liar. It couldn't be that hard? Yes, Harry thought. That was his only option. He had to eat sometime. It was the only way. He would have to steal.
Harry had never stolen anything before, unless you counted the times he had tried his luck to swipe something of Dudley's, but he always returned them before anyone noticed it was gone. And this was much bigger. There was a lot more on the line than a screaming match and a few bruises. He could get into serious trouble for this. But he had to do it. He wasn't about to die from starvation. Not when Voldemort was at large. Harry started to pace around the room. This was wrong, and Harry knew it. But he couldn't get into trouble for just wanting to eat could he? Harry kept lulling the idea over in his head, trying to convince himself that this was ok. If he was going to do this he needed a solid plan.
***
Pacing the room Harry ran over his plan. He would go in and ‘browse’ the isles while slowly pocketing things, then he would reach the register and buy something small so that they didn't suspect him and then he would walk out. Simple as that. How hard could stealing be really? But even though Harry had come up with a solid plan he still felt guilt ebbing away inside him.
“No, it's this or starve.” Harry kept having to remind himself, but no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that this was ok he still felt like the guilt was going to swallow him whole.
“If you don't do this you'll starve, and then Voldemort will take over.” Kept repeating this in his head as he slowly made his way upstairs to grab a bag.
“You have to do this, it's ok, everyone has to eat.”
Harry pushed all feelings down like he had done so many times this summer. This was important.
“It's this or die in this bloody house.”
Slowly he made his way down the street, careful to make sure he seemed as normal as possible. He held his breath for what felt like the whole walk. Still assuring himself that this was ok. It wasn't until he reached the little market that he let out a breath. He couldn't back out now. He was here and he was going to do it. And with a deep breath he stepped inside.
***
The shop was fairly busy, people bustling to get in some last minute shopping for the day. Harry felt as though every set of eyes was on him and he was sure that someone would be able to hear how loudly his heart was pounding against his chest.
Just the essentials, that's all you need. No one knows what you're up to.
Harry browsed through the isles pocketing what he could making sure that no one was around him. After he had walked through every aisle and had enough food in his bag to last him at least a few days he went to the checkout with a small chocolate bar. The lady gave him a suspicious look but didn’t say anything, just wrung it up.
“That’ll be 30p”
Harry tried not to let the look of relief show on his face as he rummaged in his pocket for the change he had found. Handing over the coins he walked out of the store, feeling an immense weight off his shoulders. It was over, he had done it.
Harry began his walk back to Privet Drive when someone called behind him.
“Sir! Sir! Stop walking!”
Harry froze. Were they calling for him? Glancing back to check he saw two security guards walking straight for him. Harry’s stomach fell to the floor. He had not gotten away with it.
No. There’s no way they could know. Maybe you just dropped something.
Slowly Harry turned and stepped towards them, trying his very best to put on the neutral face he reserved for when Uncle Vernon was in danger or exploding.
“Hello officers, can I help you?” Harry tried his very best to put on his most innocent voice.
The guards scowled at him.
“Turn out your bags.” The guard spoke with so much venom in his voice that Harry didn't dare try and argue. Feeling defeated, Harry opened his bag, tipping out the contents. Food tumbled out falling to the floor. Harry held his breath waiting for what was coming. Sure enough the two guards stepped towards him pulling his hands behind his back and cuffing him. They dragged him to a car shoving him in the back seat, before driving off.
Dread washed over Harry. What was he going to do now? He certainly couldn’t call the Dursleys and ask them to come pick him up. Even if he knew where they were he doubted that they would even want to come get him. He also highly doubted that owls were allowed in the station, so there was no chance of contacting anyone from school. Harry rested his head on the car window. Well if Voldemort wanted to come get him he would certainly be an easy target now.
***
The station was small. There was a little bench across from the two holding cells and a tiny office where a stern woman sat behind filling in forms. Harry was put into one of the little cells and told to wait there until he was called.
Harry’s mind raced. He needed to get out of here, and fast. Gosh if only I had my wand. Harry looked around the room hoping to find even the slightest bit of hope that he could get out of there.
After about 20 minutes the lady behind the desk walked up to the cell and unlocked it.
“I can go?” Harry asked hopefully
“No, but you can call your parents or guardian to come and collect you. They need to answer some of our questions and fill out these forms.” She gestured to a stack of papers sitting on the desk.
Harry’s heart sank. What he would do for an owl right now. Walking up to the phone and racking his brains for the number Hermione had given him so long ago. Very aware that he was being watched, he decided quickly on just dialling the Dursleys. If he was lucky (if you would consider the Dursleys picking Harry up from the police station lucky) they would have come back home, but as the phone rang and rang with no answer he knew it was no good. Preparing for what he knew would be a long night he turned back to the woman who guided him back into the cell, locking it behind her as she left.
Harry let out a defeated sigh before sitting on the floor of the cell. He was stuck in a muggle police station with absolutely no one to contact. Harry thought that this situation couldn’t get any worse, so preparing for the long night ahead of him he found a comfortable spot in the corner and began to count the bricks on the wall until eventually he dozed off.
***
Almost a full day had passed since Harry had been brought to the little station, and still no one had come to get him. To fill the time of utter boredom Harry had taken to reading the posters on the wall. There wasn’t anything that really peaked Harry’s interest though. Only warnings of drinking and driving, drug usage and self help lines. By the end of the day Harry had memorised every single poster that littered the wall.
Maybe if I call a self help line they can come get me? Harry thought to himself, but alas he had already used his one call and was likely to rot in here until Voldemort came and found him.
Harry leaned back against the cool stone wall and let his thoughts wander. What would he do if Voldemort found him? His wand was locked away in his trunk, and he certainly wasn’t going to defeat Voldemort with his fists. No Harry was doomed. This would be how he would die. In this mangy old cell abandoned by the Dursleys. How pathetic. Harry shut his eyes trying his hardest to focus on the coolness of the floor, rather than the probability of his death. Harry sat there, his thoughts filling his head until his brain felt like it might explode. It wasn’t until a lock clicked that he was brought back to reality.
“Mr Potter, someone's here to collect you.” the stern looking woman said standing in the door.
Harry sat there for a moment, the shock of this statement leaving him paralysed. Surely the Dursleys hadn’t come to collect him? Getting up Harry scanned the room to see who was there, and to his horror he saw Snape standing over a stack of papers looking livid. Harry knew that whatever Voldemort had in store for him Snape was certainly about to be worse.