Chapter 4 - The-Letters-From-No-One-Part-2.

It had been three weeks since Harry ran away from his uncle and aunt's house. The feeling of freedom was incredible, he no longer needed to create an image of a silly little boy for his relatives, nor did he have to accept orders and humiliations quietly. He experienced so many new emotions that he even forgot about the letter addressed to him at the Dursleys' house.

 

After the whole incident at the house, Harry decided to go to a place where his uncles wouldn't find him. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice that it was already day and that he was standing in front of a style of inn. He had walked all night, and it had been the best adventure of his life, being alone, going wherever he wanted, doing whatever he wanted... and now this place that he used his quirk for the first time to guide his steps, was a rather shabby and slightly dark place. The people wore cloaks and dark robes, and the strangest thing of all was that they whispered to each other while watching him walk.

 

 

- Excuse me... - Harry said to a woman who had her back to him at the counter.

 

 

She quickly turned around and announced:

 

- Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, how can I help you? - The woman, who appeared to be in her twenties with dark hair and fair skin, replied.

 

 

- I'm looking for a place to stay, any room will do as long as I can stay indefinitely. - Harry said to the woman who looked at him with some curiosity.

 

 

- Are you going to Diagon Alley by any chance? - The woman asked while grabbing some documents from under the counter.

 

 

- What is Diagon Alley? - Harry asked with a puzzled expression, leaving the woman slightly surprised.

 

 

He didn't know if it was a neighborhood or something, he just found it strange that the counter lady asked him various odd questions in the next few minutes. However, as he had never had good contact with other people, he chose to put it aside and just answer them.

After that, the woman continued asking Harry some questions, where she discovered that he had left his uncle and aunt's house and needed a place to live. The most impressive thing of all was that the boy had managed to enter the Leaky Cauldron without even being a wizard, at least according to her line of reasoning.

Not wanting to make a customer uncomfortable with the questions, she simply allowed him to be accommodated under certain supervision and general control by her hidden staff.

 

 

- Alright! These are your accommodation documents, breakfast is included and will be on the table every day from 6:00 to 9:00. Do you need anything else? - The receptionist explained, still puzzled that a common person had noticed her establishment.

 

 

- Just that, thank you. - Harry said as he climbed the stairs to his new room.

 

 

- Who was that? - A hunchbacked man in dark robes asked.

 

 

- A boy who ran away from his uncle and aunt's house. I'm just surprised he managed to find this place so easily without even being a wizard. - The receptionist replied. - Don't worry, I'll find out who he is and nothing bad will happen between Muggles and wizards. It's just that his appearance reminds me of someone. - She continued under the strange gaze of the man.

 

 

[ ... ]

After that, the days went by with Harry living on the second floor of the Leaky Cauldron. In the morning, he helped the receptionist, whom he discovered was named Martha Abbot. It was a bit strange, the frequent questions she asked Harry, always wondering if strange things happened to him or even unexplained accidents.

In the afternoon, Harry studied elective subjects related to astronomy. He had always been very intelligent and easily grasped the material taught to older boys and girls, in addition to the fascinating idea of outer space that he had always studied and theorized about alone in the school library.

Apart from that, he trained his hand-to-hand combat skills and techniques with the katana. He didn't know where he got all this enthusiasm for battle techniques, but he felt less lonely by keeping his mind occupied with some activity.

All the events of the past few weeks went through Harry's mind, and that wasn't a bad thing, it was incredible. He was extremely happy to be able to fend for himself, he didn't need anyone dictating the rules to him, and he could finally act with his real personality. Harry, who previously appeared very cheerful and receptive at his uncles' houses, now appeared more serious and focused on what he was doing. He always wore a style of black suit, the suit had buttons and some designs in silver, and he had bought a necklace at the Leaky Cauldron, the necklace was a crest style with four symbols side by side.

 

When he asked the owner what that crest represented in four parts with a nicely drawn "H" in the center, the answer was that it was an old football team. That's right, after Martha realized that Harry had no wizarding knowledge, she stopped with the strange questions and ordered no one in that place to talk about related matters. She didn't know why, but she felt a great sympathy for the boy and hoped that he wouldn't be found by his uncles to continue suffering in such a way.

Harry barely noticed that the symbol on his necklace was the same as the one on the letter he received, but maybe this happened because he didn't want to remember anything about his uncles and thus focused all his attention on any parallel activity.

 

 

[ ... ]

Harry had just left the barber where he had asked for help with his hair, which always insisted on being messy above his eyes. To the barber's astonishment, Harry's hair wouldn't stay neat in any way, he even thought about cutting it in a military style but gave up on that. After trying several different hairstyles, he finally found a way to keep it neat and stylish. His hair was slightly arranged on the sides with the top part a bit messy but fixed back in a stylish way for Potter.

As he left the barber shop, Harry had the feeling of being watched. For a moment, he thought it could be the Dursleys, but he dismissed that thought knowing his uncles should be more than happy not to have him around and he was far away from that place, having walked for hours to get away from Privet Drive, to the point of getting lost in where he was.

 

 

To his fortunate misperception, the Dursley family was having a hard time due to Vernon's madness.

At the Dursleys' house, six days after Harry Potter's supposed disappearance, something Vernon and Petunia made up to tell the neighbors to find Harry.

Precisely on a Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Harry. As they didn't pass through the mail slot, they were pushed under the door, slipped through the sides, and some even forced through the ground floor bathroom window.

Vernon stayed home again. After burning all the letters, he grabbed a hammer and nails and boarded up the gaps around the front and back doors, so no letters could get in.

On Saturday, things started to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters ended up getting into the house, rolled up and hidden inside the two dozen eggs that the milkman, very confused, handed to Aunt Petunia through the living room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious phone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Petunia shredded the letters in the food processor.

 

 

And all the letters read:

"To Harry James Potter - Lost Boy of Privet Drive, No. 4."

 

 

Dudley wondered who was so eager to contact Harry, but he couldn't get any answers because his father always destroyed the letters.

On Sunday morning, Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and somewhat sick, but happy.

 

 

- There's no mail on Sundays, no damn letters today... - Vernon said sinisterly, smearing jam on a slice of bread. But to his dismay, something came whistling down the chimney and hit him hard on the back of the head. The next moment, thirty or forty letters burst out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked in desperation with Vernon simply yelling in irritation.

 

- That's enough, even without that boy this still happens! - Vernon said, trying to speak calmly but simultaneously pulling out tufts of his mustache. - I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave! - He continued angrily. - We're going on a trip. Pack only a few clothes. I don't want any arguments! - He looked so dangerous with half of his mustache pulled out that no one dared to argue.

 

 

Ten minutes later, they had removed the boards from the doors and were in the car, speeding down the road. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat, having been slapped on the head by his father for delaying them by trying to pack the television, the video game, and the computer into his sports bag.

The Dursleys drove in the car and traveled for a long time. Not even Petunia dared to ask where they were going. Occasionally, Vernon would make a sharp turn and head in the opposite direction for a while.

After hours of traveling, Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley finally stopped at the door of a shabby hotel on the outskirts of a big city.

 

 

They ate stale cereal and cold canned tomatoes for breakfast the next day. They had just finished eating when the hotel owner approached their table:

 

- Excuse me, but is one of you Mr. Harry James Potter? Because I have about a hundred of these at the reception. - And she held up a letter for them to read the address in green ink.

 

"To: Mr. Harry James Potter - Temporarily Lost, with Family Residing in Room 17, Railview Hotel Cokeworth."

 

 

Vernon finished reading and simply went up to his room completely enraged, where he burned all the letters at once.

 

 

- Wouldn't it be better if we just went home, dear? - Petunia timidly suggested inside the car, but Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, no one knew. He drove them to the middle of a forest, got out of the car, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and they left again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field, on a suspension bridge, and on top of a multi-story car park.

 

 

- Dad's gone mad, hasn't he? - Dudley asked wearily to Aunt Petunia late that afternoon, as Vernon had parked at the coast, locked the car with everyone inside, and disappeared.

 

 

- It's Monday, The Great Humberto is on tonight. I want to be somewhere with a television. - Petunia said.

 

 

- I found the perfect place. - Vernon said as he returned with several bags of food and drinks. It was very cold outside the car. Vernon pointed to what appeared to be a large rock in the middle of the sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable shack imaginable. One thing was certain, there was no television there.

 

- They're predicting a storm for today! - Vernon said cheerfully, clapping his hands. - And this gentleman has kindly agreed to lend us his boat. - Vernon continued, pointing to a toothless man leisurely walking towards them. - I've bought food for a week, so everyone on board!

 

 

After several long minutes of rowing, the small boat finally reached the "house." The place was horrible, completely dusty and moldy, the only redeeming feature were the two double beds in the living room.

The storm roared with increasing ferocity as the night went on.

Petunia thought her husband was crazy, but she understood him. Perhaps the house on Privet Drive was so flooded with letters that Vernon would get much worse than he already was.

She had never accepted anything from those strange people and wasn't going to change now, at least here they would be safe and far from the letters. That's what she thought until she started to get a chill down her spine, feeling that something bad could happen that night, and the rain and storm didn't help with those negative thoughts.

Petunia tried in every way to sleep; hours had passed, and it was very close to midnight.

 

 

- "Three minutes, could it be the sea hitting the rock so hard?" - Petunia thought as she heard the various sounds of the storm.

 

- "And with two minutes left, what was that strange grinding noise? Could the rock be disintegrating into the sea?" - Petunia wondered.

 

 

With one minute to midnight, she felt really tired at that moment, thirty seconds... twenty... ten, nine, eight. She finally fell asleep.

However, just to interrupt, the sound of the door being thrown open reached everyone's ears, making Petunia get up and waking Vernon and her son.

The whole shack shook, the door had been opened abruptly, and they finally saw the person responsible for it all.

And with that, I end the fourth chapter of Changed Prophecy.

I hope everyone is enjoying it and don't forget to comment.

Martha Abbot will have a certain friendship with Harry that will help him a lot throughout the books.

Anyway, I look forward to seeing everyone in the comments section, whether with criticism, opinions, ideas, or whatever. XD

Kenjutsu: It is the classical Japanese martial art of sword fighting.

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Necklace bought at the Leaky Cauldron:

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