Harry potter The Boy Who Remembers

9 June 1992, King's Cross Train Station

Harry looked back towards the families exiting the platform. He didn't want to cause a scene here. The last time he spoke to the Dursleys, he had made it abundantly clear that he did not want anything to do with them again.

Choosing not to confront the man in public, he followed him to his car and was readying a small speech to give him a piece of his mind.

When he stopped by the man's car, his eyes widened when he saw his aunt Petunia and his cousin Dudley in the car. The boy had lost some weight, Harry noticed, which was good for the formerly obese boy. Oh, he was still overweight, but he didn't look like a blonde potato, so that was a good thing. It seemed like his frankly childish rant when he left had rattled them enough to make a few changes. Even if he had made sure that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with them.

Harry looked around to see if anyone was looking at them. From what he understood of the trace, he was in the clear if he wanted to use any magic. There were too many magical parents that would come pick up their children. The ministry probably had a few obliviators on standby in case something happened. That meant that Vernon literally held no leverage over him whatsoever.

The Hogwarts Express was made just for the trip to Hogwarts, nothing more. It was built to facilitate muggleborn from going to Hogwarts. It was made around two centuries back to replace the endless portkeys that had to be enchanted for every student to have. It was better to overwork a few obliviators a few days a year, then arrange for hundreds of Portkeys to be mailed to students and deposit them back to Hogsmeade. Outside of the trips to the school, the Hogwarts Express was unused, and thus, King's Cross wasn't really a common place for wizards to be, especially not to use their magic. But that didn't really matter now. Harry could use his magic as if he was in Diagon Alley. The ministry wouldn't really notice anything odd in such an area concentrated with wizards and witches.

Harry again made sure that no one could see him and just stood still in front of the car, refusing to get inside. The obese muggle started to look like he was slowly getting enraged. His eyes were reddening, and so was his face in general, for that matter. He practically snarled at Harry, "Well, hurry up, boy. We haven't got all day."

The Potter scion ignored him entirely, "What are you doing here?"

The man moved in a threatening manner towards Harry, who simply raised his wand. At the sight of the magical stick, Vernon practically wilted away. Petunia paled in fear, and Dudley honestly looked confused. Had they not told him about his magic?

Choosing to ignore the comical image of a man five times his size flinching away from him, Harry spoke once more, "I asked you what you're doing here."

"What do you think we're doing here? We're here to pick you up, boy," Petunia snarled back, "I got a letter from that freak school of yours with the time to come pick you up."

"Yes, and we also agreed that it was time for us to go our separate ways. I live my life and you live yours. Isn't that what you always wanted? To get rid of the freak that your dead sister saddled you with. To get rid of the last connection you had to her world which you loathe with all your heart." Harry answered.

"Yes, and we left you alone last Summer. You didn't say anything about it being a permanent thing…" his aunt retorted.

Harry stiffened, doing his best to recollect exactly what their conversation was about. It was so long ago, but by the end, he just remembered feeling free of them. During his stay in Hogwarts, he had made plans to stay by himself during the summer. There was a small voice in his head reminding him about how safe it would be to be with them. It was what the Harry in the stories did, after all.

He shook his head and removed this thought. His confrontation with Quirrell had shown him that following the stories was not always a good idea. No, this was real life, and he wasn't going to follow some sort of silly script and let it dictate his life. Harry loved his new life, he loved his friends, but most of all, he loved using magic. He wasn't about to risk not practising magic for the sake of a story in another life.

Maybe he didn't specify that he wasn't going to leave the Dursleys permanently. But right now, he didn't care. He wasn't going back to Privet Drive. He wasn't going to leave his magic for their sake.

The Potter scion gave a good look at his aunt and spoke up, "Alright, then let's make it permanent then. I won't come back with you, and that's it."

"You what?!" the woman screeched.

Again, Harry raised an eyebrow at the woman's voice. He really hadn't missed her voice, which is what he imagine a Harpy sounded like. He had been forced to suffer this voice for years, and he had spent almost twelve blissful months without it.

"Look, I know you tend to be emotional, but please don't make a scene in the middle of London," Harry calmly retorted.

"So, that's it, you're moving out?" Vernon spoke up with obvious glee on his face.

"Yes, I am. I can take care of myself, and you won't have to suffer my existence anymore. It sounds like a good compromise, right?"

Petunia looked like she wanted to protest but Vernon answered for her, "A very good compromise, yes."

"Well, of course, there's the legal side of things," Harry remarked, making them stiffen.

"Legal side?" Petunia repeated blankly.

"Officially, I will still be living with you. At least, as far as the government is concerned. It's not really a bother, but things like the letter you got from my school and the like will be sent to your home occasionally. Every month during my summer break, I will come to see you in case you got any documents I might need. It will barely take two minutes of your time, three times a year. Other than that, we'll essentially be strangers. What do you think?"

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