Chapter 3: Can I Escape the Dursleys?

The last month with the Dursleys wasn't exactly pleasant. True, Dudley was now so scared of me he wouldn't stay in the same room, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had taken to pretending I didn't exist rather than locking me in my cupboard, but it was still far from ideal.

In some ways, the silent treatment was better than active hostility—it gave me space to think, to plan. And I had a lot to plan.

I'd spent my first day back organizing my new possessions. I carefully hung my wizard robes in the back of the wardrobe where the Dursleys wouldn't notice them and arranged my spellbooks on a previously empty shelf. Hedwig's cage sat by the window—I'd let her out each night to hunt, which drew suspicious glares from Uncle Vernon but no direct confrontation.

As I lay in bed that first night home, staring at the ceiling, the enormity of my situation truly hit me. I was Harry Potter. I had knowledge of events spanning seven years—knowledge that could save lives, prevent suffering. But altering the timeline could have unpredictable consequences.

I needed a plan, but I also needed caution. And right now, I needed to endure the Dursleys.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon's shout broke through my thoughts the next morning. "Get down here!"

I found him in the kitchen, purple-faced with a vein throbbing in his temple. In his hands was a letter from Hogwarts, addressed to me.

"What is this rubbish?" he demanded.

"My school acceptance letter," I replied calmly. "For Hogwarts."

"I KNOW WHAT IT IS!" he bellowed. "I mean what is this nonsense about term starting September first? Who's going to take you to London?"

I'd forgotten this detail. "I thought you might," I said simply.

"And why would we drive you all the way to London?"

"Well," I said carefully, "it would be the last you'd see of me until next summer. I'd be gone for the whole school year."

I could see the calculation happening behind Vernon's eyes—nine months without me in the house versus the inconvenience of a drive to London.

"What's platform nine and three-quarters supposed to mean anyway?" he sneered. "There's no such thing!"

"It's between platforms nine and ten," I explained. "It's hidden from non-magical people."

Vernon's eyes narrowed. "Non-magical people, eh? That's what you freaks call normal people like us, is it?"

I bit back a retort. No need to antagonize him when I needed his cooperation.

"I just need a ride to King's Cross on September first. That's all I'm asking."

After a long moment of hostile silence, Vernon grunted what I took to be agreement.

With that settled, I retreated to my room to continue my preparations. The key question weighing on my mind: How much should I follow the original timeline, and what should I change?

Sirius Black was innocent and languishing in Azkaban. Professor Quirrell was currently hosting Voldemort on the back of his head. The Chamber of Secrets waited below Hogwarts, housing a basilisk. And somewhere in an old shack, a ring containing a piece of Voldemort's soul was slowly corrupting all who came near it.

I needed knowledge and allies, but I also needed to be careful. Dumbledore would be suspicious of an abnormally knowledgeable first-year. Snape could read minds. And any deviation from the timeline might alert Voldemort to my advantage.

For now, I decided, I would focus on learning as much as possible. I pulled out my textbooks and began to read methodically, starting with "A History of Magic" by Bathilda Bagshot.

Days passed in this fashion. I'd wake early, read until the Dursleys got up, perform whatever chores Aunt Petunia assigned, then return to my studies. At night, I'd let Hedwig out and sometimes write notes to myself—plans, contingencies, important dates and events—in a small notebook I'd purchased in Diagon Alley.

"What are you always reading for?" Dudley asked suspiciously one afternoon, having gathered enough courage to approach me after two weeks of avoidance.

"Just learning about my new school," I replied, not looking up from my copy of "Magical Drafts and Potions."

"You can't actually do any of that stuff, can you?" There was fear behind his bravado. "Dad says you're not allowed to use... you know... the m-word... outside school."

This was an important point—I couldn't practice actual magic yet. The Trace would detect it, and I'd be in trouble before I even started Hogwarts.

"That's right," I confirmed. "But that doesn't mean I can't learn the theory."

Dudley seemed relieved but also disappointed, as if he'd been hoping to catch me breaking rules.

As August wore on, I found myself increasingly impatient. Despite my knowledge of what lay ahead, there was only so much I could prepare without actually performing magic. I'd read through all my textbooks twice, made detailed notes, and even started crafting contingency plans for various scenarios.

But there was one key problem: I was stuck with the Dursleys until the school year began.

Could I escape early? I pondered this question as I lay in bed one night, Hedwig hooting softly from her perch by the window. The Leaky Cauldron would be an option, but it was too public. Tom the innkeeper would surely report an unaccompanied Harry Potter to Dumbledore, and my early arrival would raise questions I wasn't prepared to answer.

The Weasleys? I hadn't met them yet in this timeline. Showing up at their door would be bizarre and suspicious.

No, I realized with resignation, I needed to stay put for now. But that didn't mean I couldn't plan for the future.

For the next summer, I'd need an alternative to the Dursleys. The blood protection was real and important—it had protected Harry in the original timeline. But perhaps there was a way to satisfy that protection without spending the entire break here.

According to what I remembered, Harry only needed to call Privet Drive "home" and stay there for a short period each year to maintain the protection. That meant I could potentially spend most of the summer elsewhere, as long as I returned briefly.

But where to go? The Burrow would be the obvious choice, but I didn't want to impose on the Weasleys for the entire summer. They were already struggling financially.

Then there was Sirius. If I could free him, prove his innocence... but that would take time. Pettigrew was with the Weasleys as "Scabbers," and exposing him would require careful planning.

For now, I needed patience. September 1st was approaching, and soon I'd be at Hogwarts. There, I could begin implementing my plans in earnest.

I spent my final week with the Dursleys reviewing everything I knew about the coming year. Quirrell would attempt to steal the Philosopher's Stone. I'd need to decide whether to let events unfold as they had originally or to intervene earlier.

The night before departure, I packed everything carefully into my trunk. Wizard robes at the bottom, Muggle clothes on top. Books arranged by subject. My personal notebook with all my future knowledge hidden in a secret compartment I'd fashioned in the lining of the trunk.

"We'll be leaving at eight tomorrow," Uncle Vernon announced at dinner, his tone making it clear this was a great inconvenience. "Be ready."

I nodded, trying not to show my excitement. After a month of confinement with the Dursleys, tomorrow I'd finally be free—at least until next summer.

But as I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, I made a silent promise to myself: I would find a better solution. I wouldn't be a prisoner at Privet Drive forever. Somehow, I would escape the Dursleys permanently, without compromising the blood protection that kept me safe.

The problem was, to do that, I needed allies. I needed power. I needed knowledge.

And most importantly, I needed to survive my first year at Hogwarts, where Voldemort himself was waiting.

As Hedwig returned from her night's hunting, swooping silently through the window, I stroked her feathers and whispered, "Tomorrow, girl. Tomorrow everything changes."

She hooted softly in response, her amber eyes gleaming with what almost looked like understanding.

I closed my eyes, picturing the scarlet steam engine that would carry me away from here. The Hogwarts Express—my true escape from the Dursleys, even if it was temporary.

For now, that would have to be enough.