Work Text:
Ten-year-old Harry closes the book. He's glad his life isn't that bad, but he still feels like he basically is that boy. He gets up and walks out of the house, planning never to return again.
Feeling like he was being pulled in a certain direction, Harry walks for a while. Eventually, he stops at a public bathroom, and drinks from the faucet. He then goes back out, walks until a little while after dark, and sleeps in the park.
Days later, Harry is far away from anything familiar, and he still feels like he's being pulled in a certain direction. He collapses in front of an unfamiliar house, passed out.
Harry wakes up on a couch. He doesn't feel hungry anymore. Actually, he feels pretty good. He sits up and looks around, and it seems as though he's in some sort of magical living room. Some red-haired people approach.