Book 1: Harry Potter and the Saiyan's Secret

Chapter 4: Chapter Four: The Departure



The Dursleys were stunned into silence. Even Uncle Vernon, who had a talent for blustering his way through any confrontation, seemed at a loss. Aunt Petunia clutched Dudley tightly, as if Harry might explode at any moment—which, given the strange energy still buzzing faintly in the air, wasn't entirely unreasonable.

"Pack yer things, Harry," Hagrid said, his voice gentle but firm. "We've got a long way to go, and it's best we start tonight."

Harry hesitated, glancing at the Dursleys. He didn't have much to pack—just a few oversized hand-me-downs, some broken toys he'd rescued from Dudley's bin, and a battered pair of shoes. His mind raced with questions. Where was he going? How could he leave so suddenly? But the one thing he was sure of was this: anything would be better than staying here.

"I don't… have much," Harry admitted.

"That's all right," Hagrid said with a grin. "We'll be buyin' yeh proper school supplies in Diagon Alley. But first—" He turned back to the Dursleys, his grin vanishing. "A few words with this lot."

Hagrid straightened, towering over Vernon and Petunia like a mountain about to collapse on them. "Yeh should be ashamed of yerselves," he growled, his deep voice rumbling through the room. "Lyin' to the boy. Treatin' him like dirt. Lily and James Potter trusted yeh to take care of their son, and this is how yeh repay 'em?"

"We—w-we—" Vernon stammered, sweat pouring down his face.

"Save it," Hagrid snapped. "If I hear yeh've done anythin' else to Harry, yeh'll be answerin' to me. And believe me, yeh don't want that."

Uncle Vernon shrank back, nodding mutely.

Harry couldn't help but feel a flicker of satisfaction. For the first time, someone was standing up to the Dursleys on his behalf. And it felt good.

"Now then," Hagrid said, turning back to Harry. "Grab what yeh can. We've got a big day ahead of us."

---

Harry's packing took all of five minutes. He gathered his few possessions into an old pillowcase and met Hagrid at the front door. The giant was rummaging through his coat pockets, muttering to himself.

"Ah, here it is!" Hagrid exclaimed, pulling out what looked like a small umbrella. He pointed it at the broken door and gave it a flick. Instantly, the wood snapped back into place, the hinges reattaching themselves as if nothing had happened.

"Wicked," Harry said, eyes wide.

Hagrid chuckled. "That's just a bit o' magic. Wait till yeh see the real stuff."

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Harry felt a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. For the first time in his life, he was leaving Privet Drive—and he didn't know if he'd ever come back.

"Where are we going first?" he asked as they walked down the dark street.

"London," Hagrid replied, his enormous boots echoing against the pavement. "We'll stop by the Leaky Cauldron, then head to Diagon Alley. Got to get yer school supplies—and somethin' else, too."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Answers," Hagrid said simply, his expression unreadable.

---

The journey to London was surreal. Hagrid managed to hail a cab—how the driver didn't comment on his size, Harry would never know—and they rode in near silence, the streetlights casting long shadows across the seats. Harry tried to ignore the weight of the Dursleys' lies pressing down on him and focused instead on the idea of Hogwarts. A school for wizards. A place where he wouldn't be weird or unwanted.

But then there was the other thing. The power inside him. The way Hagrid had looked at him after the outburst in the living room—as if Harry were something more than a wizard. Something… different.

"Er, Hagrid?" Harry ventured as they crossed a bridge into the city.

"Yeah, Harry?"

"When you said… I might be more than just a wizard… what did you mean?"

Hagrid scratched his beard, looking uncomfortable. "Truth is, I don't know fer sure. There's stories, though. Old legends. About people born with magic so strong it ain't just wizardry. It's somethin' else entirely."

"Like what?"

Hagrid hesitated. "Dunno all the details, but I reckon we'll find out soon enough. Best not to worry about it yet. First things first: get yeh to Hogwarts."

Harry nodded, though he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Hagrid's words than he was letting on.

---

When they finally arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry was immediately struck by how… ordinary it looked. Tucked between a record shop and a bakery, the small, shabby pub seemed completely unremarkable. But as they stepped inside, Harry felt the atmosphere change.

The air was thick with the smell of pipe smoke and something sweet, like treacle tart. Witches and wizards of all shapes and sizes filled the room, talking, laughing, and clinking glasses. A group of goblins huddled in one corner, examining a pile of gold coins. A witch in emerald robes flipped through a thick book, her wand tucked behind her ear.

As soon as they entered, the room went quiet. Heads turned toward Harry, and a ripple of whispers spread through the crowd.

"Is that…?"

"Can't be…"

"It's him! It's Harry Potter!"

Harry shrank back instinctively, but Hagrid placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't mind 'em," he said softly. "Yer famous, Harry. They've been waitin' a long time to see yeh."

"Why?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Because yeh survived," Hagrid said simply. "Because yeh gave 'em hope."

The weight of those words settled heavily on Harry's shoulders. Hope? He didn't feel like someone who could give people hope. He was just Harry. Just a boy who lived under the stairs.

But as the wizards in the pub raised their glasses and called out greetings, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—they saw something in him that he didn't yet see in himself.

"C'mon, Harry," Hagrid said, leading him toward a brick wall at the back of the pub. "Time to show yeh where yeh belong."

With a tap of his umbrella, the bricks began to shift and slide, revealing an archway that led into a bustling street filled with magic and wonder.

Diagon Alley.

For the first time in his life, Harry felt like he was stepping into a world where he truly belonged. But even as he marveled at the sights around him, the hum of


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