Saturday breakfast at the Dursleys' was its usual long affair, made more so by it being served in bed to the two whales in residence. Second and third helpings, all lovingly carried up to them by a gushing Aunt Petunia, left them mostly out of sight and even helped him grab some bit of it to eat himself while his aunt was away. It was well into morning when all the plates had been washed, dried, and put back in their proper places - all by Harry, of course.
With Uncle Vernon taking Dudley out for a new video game - in payment for his stellar performance in boot-licking the night before - Harry hoped being run ragged the day before would provide him some time to himself so he could start writing his replies. His aunt seemed to have different plans for him though.
"Since you're done you can stop lazing about," the horse-faced woman started. "Go upstairs, get your things, and start a load of laundry. Then take out the trash and make yourself scarce. I don't want to see you until it's done."
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry gave his rote response as he made his way back to his room.
For the second time in as many days Harry opened his door to find something waiting on him. A large, disgruntled-looking black owl stood imperiously at his open window. It called to him loudly, as if offended it had been kept waiting.
"And keep that bird quiet!" his Aunt Petunia called up after him.
"Sorry about that," Harry told the owl, closing the door behind him. "I wasn't expecting any more mail."
Relieved of its burden the beast started nipping at the drawer he had stashed everything in earlier.
"You want an owl treat? Hang on, I'll get you something."
Harry dug out the bag he kept his wizarding money in. He had always kept something for Hedwig in there too. Letting the bird root through and take its fill Harry concentrated on his letter. The owl soon departed with its prize: it had a solid silver sickle clutched in its beak.
'Leave it to a bank to charge me postage, ' Harry grumbled in his head.
'To: Account-Holder H. J. Potter
Re: Your Inquiry
Thank you for contacting Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Diagon Alley. Your letter has been quite informative and brought forward many issues worthy of discussion. Your hereditary account is currently in the charge of F.M. Gropegold. His practice is to arrive for work shortly after 10 o'clock. Upon a preliminary review it appears the first of August is a very important time for your account and we would suggest seeing your Financial Manager immediately upon his entry.
Due to strictures placed upon us by the Ministry, we are unable to provide non-employee human transport. I am reliably informed emergency wizarding transport already exists in the form of the Knight Bus and that casting forth your wand from any street curb should summon the vehicle to you. Please note they do not accept cheques or promises of payment.
Gringotts looks forward to your visit,
Overseer Barchoke, Hereditary Accounts'
Not sure how today was supposed to be important, Harry wondered if he could really do it. 'Could I really slip away?'
"Laundry! Now!" his aunt bellowed from below.
Harry's mind was made up. He was going. Today. Now.
He crammed the letter into his money pouch and crammed that in his pocket. Out from the drawer came his letters and things and quick as a flash they were tossed into his trunk. The trunk itself was another huge problem. Getting the trunk out of the house without his Aunt Petunia noticing was going to be impossible, even without his broom slung over his shoulder, and unless he happened to stumble into the Weasleys in the middle of Diagon Alley it'd be pointless to even try.
As much as he hated it, Harry knew he'd have to come back.
A few more moments had his wand, Hogwarts robes, and his dad's old invisibility cloak retrieved. Thinking for a moment, Harry removed Hedwig's cage and his Nimbus 2000 from the wardrobe and set them on top of the trunk, carefully arranging the cloak to cover everything.
With his wand up his sleeve, money in his pocket, and Hogwarts robes stuffed unceremoniously into his bulging hand-me-downs, Harry scraped together whatever bits of laundry he had and was out of his room before his aunt could bellow again.
"Hop to it, before I think of something else for you to do," his aunt said as Harry made his way back downstairs. "And don't forget the trash."
Throwing his odds and ends in the wash with a splash of detergent and hitting the button, Harry made his way to the kitchen, glad to have some legitimate reason to go outside. As soon as he was out the back door the trash was dropped and he bolted for the back hedge. Aiming for the well-worn passage Dudley and his gang had made years before, Harry found himself in the alleyway beyond. Turning left, he made his way towards Magnolia Crescent, the nearest side street he could get to that was out of sight of Privet Drive.
There was a thrill of excitement in the air as he stole a glance around to make sure he couldn't be seen. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Harry took out his Gringotts letter to check what he had to do. 'Casting forth your wand from any street curb should summon the vehicle to you.' Hoping there wasn't some special incantation he was supposed to do Harry took out his wand and pointed it towards the street.
With a bang like a canon blast a giant purple triple-decker bus exploded into view as Harry leapt back in surprise. Harry saw some disheveled faces peek out of the bus windows to see where they had landed. In no time at all a pimply young man jumped out and recited his company line.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. I'm Stan Shunpike and I'll be your conductor for this eav-morning."
"You're real," Harry said, still in awe of the giant magical bus in the heart of muggle Surrey.
"Last time I checked," the young man said with a grin. "You gettin' in or not?"
"Absolutely!"
"Well, hop in then," Stan gestured to the door beside him.