He moved as quietly to the door as he could, stumbling a bit still due to how badly he was used to the old way of walking with a smaller gait, moving at a slower speed. Using a thread to keep the door hinges silent, he slipped out into the night and began walking.
God he was out of shape. Harry was barely walking fast and his legs were hurting, his chest was tight, and he could barely stand upright. He had gotten used to his new size and had tried to do some running. Clearly he was not gifted in the field.
Falling to the grass of a nearby yard, he relaxed as his threads examined the most sore muscles. Now that he was so much larger and was wearing form fitting clothing, he was not sure anyone would recognize him. Not that many people even knew he lived at number 4 hell street.
After healing the muscles, he looked at them again. Each muscle had tears in them, and the new ones seemed to be stronger. Well, that was easy to fix. Looking around for a dark spot, he found a place between a fence and a car and lied down, resting his head on the grass. Focusing on his threads, he began rebuilding more and more muscles to act like his newly rebuilt ones.
He actually let out a gasp. He had not expected it to hurt this much. Apparently some muscles had almost never been used, like the ones in his face and near his ears and sides. As more and more muscles began becoming stronger and able to absorb more oxygen, Harry began to feel a deeper hunger than he had ever expected. He had actually eaten two bags of jerky already on this run, but now he was ravenous. He was glad he had grabbed such an amount on his way out of the house, he had almost skipped bringing food in his hurry to get out and get going.
He could almost feel each piece of meat being absorbed before it could make it down his throat. His threads NEEDED protein for this project, it was not simply "Make it work", this was "Make it work better". Harry could probably out eat someone in a competition right now, he felt like hunger was his new favorite color.
As his hunger faded and he looked at what was left of his food, he couldn't help but chuckle. Hopefully half an energy bar would be enough for the way back. He stood, and almost stumbled. He did not feel stronger, but everything else felt easier. Breathing took no effort, and he was breathing MUCH less now. Apparently more efficient muscles required less oxygen, and his enhanced lungs seemed to absorb more with each breath than before.
As he turned back toward his prison, he actually had a bounce in his step... Heck, running felt like a fine idea now. Not like there was any strain right now anyway.
As he left running down the street Harry felt more free than ever before.
Vernon Dursley rested on an older mattress. He had the funds for a new one, but he and Petunia had grown fond of the shapes each of them had made in the old thing. But right now, he felt something unusual.
Instead of darkness and fear, he only felt rest. For the first night in months he had not felt one nightmare, no dream of screams or blood. Even without dreams, it felt so good he wanted to wake up just so he could fall asleep again.
Next to the large man, resting in the dark, Petunia was on a beach. She barely remembered this moment, back when she had friends and time, but now it felt so real. She could see deep ocean waters far into the distance, white sand under her. The rest of her family was doing something, but she had taken a break on the beach. The longer she stayed, the less she kept trying to watch over her shoulder, the less she felt the need to prepare to run. No strange sounds, no odd feelings... just waves.
A small tear formed in her eye as she slept.
Dudley's bedroom was far enough away from the cupboard that he was only used to strange smells or the odd scream, but even he felt more calm tonight.
Not surprising then that the soft opening of the front door and the quiet entrance of Harry did not even provoke a snore. He had checked the red network before entering, and used some threads to coat the hinges anyway. Harry had not created the red threads and was not sure how much he should trust them. He wiped his sweaty hands through his hair, only slightly winded from the second half of his run. He had thrown away the wrappers into a trash bin a few houses back, so he was not worried about extra trash being spotted. Just in case, Harry decided to replace the jerky and bars he had eaten on the trip.
The watch didn't seem as useful an idea as before, since he could now watch people move through the premises using the red network. He wished he understood it more, but it was horribly complicated. Red threads twisted in complex knots, braids of light wove through walls and into the floor creating diamond and square shapes, with no apparent pattern or reason. Still, what was here seemed to work, to reinforce each other and prevent a single weakness from destroying the entire pattern. Refocusing on the present, he headed into the kitchen.
A quick trip to the pantry resupplied him easily enough. Harry had been conservative stealing from the piles of food before, so it was unlikely to be missed. If he had to take more though, he would leave a wrapper and an extra package at Dudley's door. That would probably convince EVERYONE that he had eaten most of them, or at least give enough suspicion that the adults would ignore any evidence just in case their Dudley was involved.
As Harry was about to head back to the cupboard, he noticed recently washed dishes. His face went slack with a bit of shock. He had never seen anyone besides him even attempt to cook. Harry shook his head and reached some threads into the cupboard door, unhinging and letting himself inside the space. Sealing himself into the darkness, he laid back and prepared to once again work on his mind. His body had greatly improved, although the pain cost had been high. Hopefully he could do something useful with his mind as well.