Labyrinth of Memories
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He walked for a while, not noticing that his feet were not freezing on the cold concrete. He had to get right up to the windows to read the signs, and many of the shop owners chased him away. He stumbled around, until he found a store that bought gold and rare coins.
"Good morning," he stated as he slowly made his way up to the counter. "I found these coins and was wondering if they were really silver and how much I could get for them." He held out two of the silver ones.
The man took them, eyed them carefully, then quirked an eyebrow at the teen and snarled, "Think your funny, do ya? Trying to get me in trouble, are ya?" He slammed the money on the counter and was ready to run the boy off. It had to be a prank or a set up to see if he'd buy them. There was no other reason the kid would come in asking about them. While he had had wizards in the past, they all wanted what that bank Gringotts would give them. They gave the appropriate words that were used in non-magical shops. This kid seemed to want the going prize of precious metal.
"What? They're not real silver then?" was the disappointed sigh. His shoulder slumped in defeat, he had no idea what he was going to do for money now. He didn't think the vendors would take them, especially if they weren't real.
"Oh, no, they be silver alright, but I can't buy them. There is a law against takin' wizard coins," the man sneered as he looked the child up and down, taking in his defeated posture and wondered why he wasn't in school. He didn't look like a street rat. His clothes were new, and he had probably had shoes on last night, judging from his clean feet.
"Wizard coins, what are you on about?" Potter asked with a completely bewildered look on his face.
"Look, kid, I ken give ya what the goblins would, which might be enough to get ya a meal, but you can't sell these to anyone. I ken tell from yer uniform that ya know what I'm talkin' abut," he said, waving his hand at the uniform in question.
"Right, had a bit of an accident, and lost my memory. I did just find these coins in my pocket. Look, here are a few more," the messy-haired teen stated, as he pulled out five more of the silver money. Something in the man's voice renewed his hope.
"Don't know who ya are then? Pity, I might have been able to 'elp. As it is I ken give ya a couple of quid to tide ya over until ya get back to yer school," the man stated as he opened a box under the counter and counted out some money. "Perhaps, ya ken buy some shoes from the junk store, jest down the street," he stated, pointedly looking at the boy's feet.
"Oh, right, shoes," Harry said, and now that he was thinking about it, his feet were getting cold. 'Must have been mind over matter,' he thought.
"'Course, ya could jest wave yer wand and keep them warm," the man said absentmindedly.
"Are you a…. wizard?" the teen asked warily, not really believing the man, but he wanted to see how far the delusion ran.
"Nay, I'm a Muggle, but they let me know when some kids came in with coins like yers. I give them the goin' rate and the goblins fell on me like rabid dogs. I 'ad ter promise ter ne'er to buy them again, accept fer what they give at their bank. I get a sheet once a year tellin' me what's what. The goblins put a spell on me, so I can only talk ter wizard folk," the man said as he noted something in a red ledger.
"Right, Muggle. Well, thanks, and have good morning," Harry said as he scooped up the money and all but ran from the barmy man. It had to be a hustle to keep kids like him from getting the true value of silver. There was no other explanation… goblins indeed. But it wasn't like Harry had many other options, he was basically homeless now. He'd take what he could get, and when he got his memory back perhaps he'd get some payback.
"Get yerself back ta school!" the man yelled as Harry quickly made his exit.
'Wizards,' the boy thought, after the door closed. 'There's no such thing as magic… wait… that sounds familiar…. Where have I heard that from? Think, Harry, if that is your name, think.' But nothing came. His mind was a complete blank as to who he was or where he was from. He knew his name for the men last night, and he knew he was English from his accent. He knew he was a teenager, and that he had been in school, judging from his clothes and height. What he didn't know was how he wound up in that creepy castle, or what crime he might have seen that that weird guy would wipe his memory for, if that was the reason for his amnesia. But he had no other ideas about himself and flat-out refused to believe he was a wizard. 'Everything can be explained through science,' he remembered hearing, just not where from.
He went straightway and purchased a pair of boots from the junk store, though they didn't have socks. So he went without, knowing that he would probably get blisters. There was also a bin of glasses that he tried on until he found some that he could sorta see out of. It was better than seeing the world as one big fuzzy blur that moved. Now only things very far away were unclear around the edges.
He wandered the streets until his tummy rumbled, and then bought the cheapest thing he could. He ate the hot pastry and drank the lukewarm tea, hoping to seep the heat out of them for a while. It was quite cold here in London, which according to the landmarks he recognized, like Big Ben, that's where he was. November was not a good time to be lost in the city.
He ducked the bobbies, because he didn't want to go to an orphanage. He remembered they were bad places, but once again had no clue as to who had told him that. He only knew that he was once scared to death of going there, now that he was a bit more mature he was only cautious.
He could live off the streets, it would be easy.
Meanwhile at Hogwarts, Albus' POV
"Albus, did you send Mr. Potter somewhere last night?" Minerva asked as she scooped some eggs on to her plate.
"No, I told both of our champions to rejoin their friends in their common rooms," the old man said slowly, alarmed at the question. "Why do you ask, my dear?" he turned his head towards his deputy, hoping she wasn't going to say what he thought she was.
"According to Miss Granger and the Weasley twins, he never showed up for the party," she said, getting a bit alarmed herself. She had been certain that the boy had been frightened, and that the Headmaster had sequestered him somewhere. Unlike others she knew Harry was innocent. She had been teaching him for four years and never had he wanted fame or glory. Still, to run was not the Gryffindor thing to do. She didn't worry too much. She knew Albus would take care of it, just like he always did.
"Oh my, this is most destressing," Dumbledore stated, looking over the Hall to see if Harry was sitting isolated from the other students, like he had during his second year. "Well, I am sure this is nothing to worry about. He is more than likely just overcome with emotion and is in hiding. I will send the ghosts to find him to make sure he attends class. It will build character to face his tormentors." He was positive that what he spoke was true. After all, look at him, he had to face bullies in school, and his hometown, and he was a fine specimen of a human being.
"Very well, Albus," McGonagall said and went back to her meal, once again reassured that her boss had everything under control.
Snape listened to the entire conversation, but kept his mouth shut. He only hoped they didn't find the brat, maybe he got lost in a foreign country and would never return to the castle. All Snape had to do was be… kind to the… children and talk to one emotional ghost. Then he'd be free and clear.
After breakfast, the Headmaster gathered the ghosts and gave them the order to search the castle. When they reported the boy was not to be found, he recruited the house elves. They too came back and stated that Master Harry Potter was not there. So the grounds were searched and Hagrid was asked.
"'Arry, sure I saw 'im last night. I was comin' back from 'unting, and 'e was goin' through the gates. Looked to be a might scared, so I thought 'e was goin' ter blow off some steam at The Three Broomsticks, jest like his dad woulda done. Didn't think much of it after that," the gentle half-giant said, scratching his scruffy beard in thought. "Now that I think abut it, 'e seemed ter not recognize me," the huge man recalled.
"Thank you, Hagrid. Next time a student leaves the grounds, I would very much appreciate it if you informed the staff," Dumbledore said, patting the man on the arm.
"I am staff," the Care of Magical Creatures Professor stated, puffing up importantly.
"Quite right, quite right, forgive an old man his memory slip," Albus placated.
"Ah, it's alright, I fergive ya," Hagrid said as he patted the old man on the back, making him stumble.
"Thank you, my dear boy. Now, we must be ever diligent in finding our misplaced student. Perhaps you are correct, and he could simply be at The Three Broomsticks enjoying Madam Rosmerta's lovely company," Dumbledore said as they walked to Hogsmeade with hopeful anticipation.
They were disappointed when the search of the whole town, including the Shrieking Shack, brought up nothing. Dumbledore assigned the teachers to look for the boy on their nonexistent downtime. Snape, of course refused, until he got a look from the Bloody Baron, then he begrudgingly accepted his time to find the dratted boy.
The hunt was on.