Harry recounted his ordeal to Sirius, who explained house-elves serve wealthy families like the Malfoys or Azraels, bound to their masters.
"Quite a mess. A danger at Hogwarts, separate from Voldemort…" Sirius mused.
"Is it targeting me?" Harry asked.
"Not necessarily. Hogwarts has history—ancient texts, legends, founders' relics. Plenty tempts greedy fools, even from noble houses," Sirius said.
"You're harsh on them… Some of my friends are from those families," Harry replied, recalling Farkas's words: Sirius's family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Sirius, a pure-blood, never boasted like Draco. "Old houses often stagnate, resisting progress. I'm not badmouthing your friends—just a possibility."
"Let's contact them again," Sirius suggested.
"Send letters?" Harry asked.
"You've got a phone, wizard," Sirius pointed to the telephone.
"Phone!" Harry grabbed his notebook, cursing himself for not memorizing Hermione's number, confiscated by Petunia.
He dialed Hermione's number, hands trembling. After three rings, a gruff male voice answered, "Granger residence?"
"I'm Harry Potter, Hermione's friend," Harry said.
"Harry! My daughter's mentioned you! Hold on…" The man called Hermione.
"Harry! What happened? I was worried—called, wrote letters. Ron, Zabini, Azrael said you didn't reply!" Hermione exclaimed.
They talked for over five minutes. Hermione promised to inform the others. Harry, overjoyed, nearly cried. He called Azrael and Zabini, relishing their familiar voices—Zabini's sarcasm, Azrael's bravery. Ron and Farkas lacked phones, and Draco scoffed at Muggle devices.
"The Malfoys once dealt with Muggles. They could still use phones," Sirius whispered.
"Draco's family?" Harry marveled, recalling Draco's helicopter jest.
Sirius watched Harry warmly, but his heart was heavy. No wonder he hates Muggles after that treatment.
Sirius disapproved of Harry's growing Muggle prejudice, hoping he'd emulate James, not bigotry. Andromeda's advice echoed: "If Harry leans toward pure-bloodism, you'll want to correct him."
"It's my duty!" Sirius had argued.
"Your duty is to raise him healthily, guide him rightly. But would you trust words from an unrespected adult when you were a kid?"
Sirius knew Harry barely saw him as more than a pen pal. He aimed to build trust, heal Harry's wounds, and ease his Muggle resentment. Bigots don't make real friends, Harry.
Now wasn't the time—Harry was too raw from the Dursleys. Sirius focused on helping him regain calm.
Living with Sirius, Harry thrived. The modest two-story house in a Muggle neighborhood was magically expanded inside, filled with colorful enchanted bulbs, magical books, and tools. Exploring it thrilled Harry.
Opening a wardrobe, Harry saw Vernon's furious face, threatening to drag him back. Reflexively, he reached for his wand.
"Bo!"
"Riddikulus!" Sirius's spell turned Vernon into a singing, youthful figure.
"Sorry, Harry. That's a Boggart—breeds in dark, cramped spaces, shapeshifting into fears. Didn't mean to scare you," Sirius said. "No magic during holidays."
"Sorry, Sirius. I almost used magic," Harry admitted, nearly casting Bombarda. He handed his wand to Sirius, relieved to avoid expulsion.
Sirius joined Hagrid as Harry's most admired adult. By day, Sirius regulated dark artifacts at the Ministry; at home, he taught Harry magic and party etiquette, using Tarantallegra to teach dance. Harry's athleticism mastered the steps, and he eagerly awaited the party.
Sirius noticed Harry avoided Muggle kids, unlike James, who played football with them. Harry stuck to libraries, studying science, math, or magic, shunning Muggle peers.
Time to adjust my approach, Sirius decided, planning to guide Harry after the party, hoping friend reunions would ease his heart.
In a grand, gloomy manor, a platinum-blonde wizard prepared to curse his house-elf.
"Watch closely, Draco," Lucius said.
"Yes, Father," Draco replied, trembling with cruel excitement.
Draco, furious at Harry's silence, felt betrayed. A letter arrived after two weeks, apologizing, explaining Dobby's interference and Harry's confinement. Confronting Dobby, the elf confessed, self-punishing. Now, Lucius would punish him.
"A servant's actions betray the Malfoy name," Lucius said coldly.
"Please, Master… Dobby is a disgrace…" Dobby begged.
"Who permitted you to speak?" Draco glared.
"Disloyal servants earn clothes, but I'm merciful. Our shame stays hidden. Remember, Draco, cursing non-humans isn't illegal. Crucio!"
Dobby endured agony—burns, suffocation, fractures—silently obeying Draco's order. Draco laughed at first, then grew uneasy, fearing Dobby's death. He maintained a smirk, relieved when Lucius spared the elf.
"Clean the floor," Lucius ordered.
Dobby obeyed sluggishly. Draco berated him but was secretly glad he survived.
House-elves don't have human rights!
Jacob Kowalski in Fantastic Beasts 1-3
Introducing Jacob Kowalski, the warm-hearted Muggle baker from Fantastic Beasts, to this Harry would be a shock. Jacob's kindness, humor, and acceptance of magic—befriending Newt, loving Queenie, and thriving in the wizarding world—clash with Harry's Muggle prejudice. Seeing a Muggle embrace magic without fear, even wielding a wand in Secrets of Dumbledore, would challenge Harry's belief that Muggles and wizards can't coexist.
Jacob's decency could stir guilt in Harry, recalling his own scorn for the Dursleys' ignorance. A conversation with Jacob, who faces prejudice yet remains open-hearted, might crack Harry's bias, forcing him to confront his resentment. Sirius, seeing this, would encourage Harry to learn from Jacob's example, pushing him toward empathy and away from bigotry, shaking his Slytherin-leaning worldview.
---------------------------------------------------------
🚀 Want more?
📖 Unlock 10+ early chapters on my Patreon!
💖 Support me here: patreon.com/DaoistRoeoNQ
🔓 Get ahead of the story today!