The summer holidays had been passing by quicker than Y/n had expected them too. He was sat in his bedroom at a desk writing a letter while Noctis rolled around on his bed playing with a new toy mouse he had bought her.
'Dear Harry.
I am hoping that you are enjoying your summer holidays with your family, but since I have not heard from you I cannot be too sure. Hermione wrote to me last week to ask if I had heard from you either, Well, that and to ask for more notes I have from my lessons with Professor Flitwick.
Ron has invited me to his home called 'The Burrow.' Atticus as you can imagine has already made several jabs at the Weasley family since I asked my Grandmother if I could stay with them but I have ignored them all. He left yesterday to spend the remainder of his holiday with the Malfoy's who seem to have taken a liking to him. I suspect it is because they all share a closed mind when it comes to magical families and those that associate with muggles. Thankfully my Grandmother is much more open minded and has no problem with me going to the Weasley's, much to my relief. I can only imagine Ron has also invited you so I do hope to see you there but If I do not then I look forward to seeing you for another year at Hogwarts.
Sincerely yours, Y/n Grindelwald.'
A few moments after Y/n had finished his letter and sealed it in a envelope an owl appeared outside his bedroom window with a letter.
Y/n noticed Noctis had jumped down from his bed now as she circled abound his feet looking up at the owl.
"No Noctis, you may not play with the owl." Y/n told her as she meowed grumpily in response then nipped at his foot.
"You are becoming a very bad kitty..."
The owl dropped the letter on Y/n's desk now and he immediately recognised the handwriting. He took out a small handful of sickles and put them into a pouch on the owl's leg. "If I let you rest here will you take a letter for me?" Y/n asked the owl and it just hooted in response.
Y/n picked up the letter from the desk as he flipped it over, broke it's seal and took out a folded piece of paper.
'Dear Y/n.
Thank you once again for you written notes on Charms and Defence against the Dark Arts, I've been reading over them several times as I go over last years classes before moving onto our next years. I've also been reading the works of a wizard known as Gilderoy Lockheart, He's simply fantastic!
I heard from Ron that he's invited you and Harry to stay with him. He invited me as well but my parent's weren't keen on me staying in a house filled with boys. Still, I'm sure we can all meet in Diagon Alley when we receive our letters for next years requirements. I'm hoping to buy some more of Gilderoy Lockheart's books if I can get the chance too.
Love Hermione.'
Y/n smiled to himself as he finished the letter now. He then held out his arm now and the owl flocked to it as he picked up his own sealed letter to Harry with the free hand and took the owl downstairs to get it some food and water. Noctis being mischievous followed behind the two her tail wagging swishing in the air.
Meanwhile another argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew Harry's room.
"Third time this week!" he roared across the table. "If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!"
Harry tried, yet again, to explain. "She's bored." he said. "She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night..."
"Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache. "I know what'll happen if that owl's let out." He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia.
Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley. "I want more bacon."
"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. "We must build you up while we've got the chance... I don't like the sound of that school food..."
"Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings," said Uncle Vernon heartily. "Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?"
Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry. "Pass the frying pan."
"You've forgotten the magic word." said Harry irritably.
The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible. Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples.
"I meant 'please'!" said Harry quickly. "I didn't mean...."
"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU" thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"
"But I..."
"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!" roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist.
"I just..."
"I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"
Harry stared from his purple faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet.
"All right." said Harry. "All right..."
Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes.
Ever since Harry had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating him like a bomb that might go off at any moment, because Harry Potter wasn't a normal boy. As a matter of fact, he was as not normal as it is possible to be.
He missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache. He missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, his classes (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master), the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in his four-poster bed in the tower dormitory, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world six tall goal posts, four flying balls, and fourteen players on broomsticks.
All Harry's spellbooks, his wand, robes, cauldron, and top of the line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry had come home. What did the Dursleys care if Harry lost his place on the House Quidditch team because he hadn't practiced all summer? What was it to the Dursleys if Harry went back to school without any of his homework done? The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles, those with not a drop of magical blood in their veins, and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world.
The Dursleys hadn't even remembered that today happened to be Harry's twelfth birthday. Of course, his hopes hadn't been high; they'd never given him a real present, let alone a cake but to ignore it completely...
At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day."
Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe it.
"This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career," said Uncle Vernon.
Harry went back to his toast. Of course, he thought bitterly, Uncle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talking of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him.
"I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon. "We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be...?"
"In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."
"Good, good. And Dudley?"
"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"
"They'll love him!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.
"Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Harry. "And you?"
"I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I' don't exist." said Harry tonelessly.
"Exactly." said Uncle Vernon nastily. "I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eight-fifteen..."
"I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia.
"And, Dudley, you'll say..."
"May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman.
"My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia.
"And you?" said Uncle Vernon viciously to Harry.
"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry dully.
"Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"
"Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason... Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason..."
"Perfect... Dudley?"
"How аbout: 'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you.'"
This was too much for both Aunt Petunia and Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry ducked under the table so they wouldn't see him laughing.
"And you, boy?"
Harry fought to keep his face straight as he emerged. "I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there." he said.
"Too right, you will." said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Masons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way. When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the News at Ten. We'll be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time tomorrow."
Harry couldn't feel too excited about this. He didn't think the Dursley's would like him any better in Majorca than they did on Privet Drive.
"Right...I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you." he snarled at Harry. "You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning."
Harry left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. He crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench, and sang under his breath: "Happy birthday to me... happy birthday to me..."
No cards, no presents, and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. He gazed miserably into the hedge. He had never felt so lonely. More than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, Harry missed his best friends, Ron Weasley, Y/n Grindelwald and Hermione Granger. They, however, didn't seem to be missing him at all. None of them had written to him all summer, even though Ron had said he was going to ask Harry to come and stay.
Countless times, Harry had been on the point of unlocking Hedwig's cage by magic and sending her to Ron, Y/n or Hermione with a letter, but it wasn't worth the risk. Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school. Harry hadn't told the Dursleys this, he knew it was only their terror that he might turn them all into dung beetles that stopped them from locking him in the cupboard under the stairs with his wand and broomstick. For the first couple of weeks back, Harry had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under his breath and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him. But the long silence from Y/n, Ron and Hermione had made Harry feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Dudley had lost its appeal and now Ron, Y/n and Hermione had forgotten his birthday.
What wouldn't he give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard? He'd almost be glad of a sight of his archenemy, Draco Malfoy or Y/n's brother Atticus just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream...
Not that his whole year at Hogwarts had been fun. At the very end of last term, Harry had come face to face with none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort might be a ruin of his former self, but he was still terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power. Harry had slipped through Voldemort's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even now, weeks later, Harry kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remembering his livid face, his wide, mad eyes...
Harry suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. He had been staring absent mindedly into the hedge and the hedge was staring back. Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves.
Harry jumped to his feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn.
"I know what day it is." sang Dudley, waddling toward him.
The huge eyes blinked and vanished.
"What?" said Harry, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been.
"I know what day it is." Dudley repeated, coming right up to him.
"Well done," said Harry. "So you've finally learned the days of the week."
"Today's your birthday." sneered Dudley. "How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you even got friends at that freak place?"
"Better not let your mum hear you talking about my school." said Harry coolly.
Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom.
"Why're you staring at the hedge?" he said suspiciously.
"I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire." said Harry.
Dudley stumbled backward at once, a look of panic on his fat face. "You c...can't...Dad told you you're not to do m...magic...he said he'll chuck you out of the house...and you haven't got anywhere else to go...you haven't got any friends to take you..."
"Jiggery pokery!" said Harry in a fierce voice. "Hocus pocu...squiggly wiggly..."
"MUUUUUUM!" howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed back toward the house. "MUUUUM! He's doing you know what!"
Harry paid dearly for his moment of fun. As neither Dudley nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew he hadn't really done magic, but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan. Then she gave him work to do, with the promise he wouldn't eat again until he'd finished.
While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Harry cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench. The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of his neck. Harry knew he shouldn't have risen to Dudley's bait, but Dudley had said the very thing Harry had been thinking himself... maybe he didn't have any friends at Hogwarts...
Wish they could see famous Harry Potter now, he thought savagely as he spread manure on the flower beds, his back aching, sweat running down his face.
It was half past seven in the evening when at last, exhausted, he heard Aunt Petunia calling him. "Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!"
Harry moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding, a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.
"Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to two slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table. She was already wearing a salmon pink cocktail dress.
Harry washed his hands and bolted down his pitiful supper. The moment he had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away his plate. "Upstairs! Hurry!"
As he passed the door to the living room, Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jackets. He had only just reached the upstairs landing when the door bell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs.
"Remember, boy, one sound..."
Harry crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on his bed. The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.
Harry managed not to shout out, but it was a close thing. The little creature on the bed had large, bat like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Harry knew instantly that this was what had been watching him out of the garden hedge that morning.
As they stared at each other, Harry heard Dudley's voice from the hall. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"
The creature slipped off the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. Harry noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm and leg holes.
"Er...hello." said Harry nervously.
"Harry Potter!" said the creature in a high pitched voice Harry was sure would carry down the stairs. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir... Such an honor it is..."
"Th...thank you," said Harry, edging along the wall and sinking into his desk chair, next to Hedwig, who was asleep in her large cage. He wanted to ask, 'What are you?' but thought it would sound too rude, so instead he said, "Who are you?"
"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf." said the creature.
"Oh...really?" said Harry. "Er...I don't want to be rude or anything, but this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom."
Aunt Petunia's high, false laugh sounded from the living room. The elf hung his head.
"Not that I'm not pleased to meet you." said Harry quickly. "But, er, is there any particular reason you're here?"
"Oh, yes, sir," said Dobby earnestly. "Dobby has come to tell you, sir... it is difficult, sir... Dobby wonders where to begin..."
"Sit down." said Harry politely, pointing at the bed.
To his horror, the elf burst into tear, very noisy tears. "S..sit down!" he wailed. "Never... never ever..."
Harry thought he heard the voices downstairs falter.
"I'm sorry." he whispered. "I didn't mean to offend you or anything."
"Offend Dobby!" choked the elf. "Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard...like an equal..."
Harry, trying to say "Shh!" and look comforting at the same time, ushered Dobby back onto the bed where he sat hiccoughing, looking like a large and very ugly doll. At last he managed to control himself, and sat with his great eyes fixed on Harry in an expression of watery adoration.
"You can't have met many decent wizards." said Harry, trying to cheer him up.
Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting. "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"
"Don't...what are you doing?" Harry hissed, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed—Hedwig had woken up with a particularly loud screech and was beating her wings wildly against the bars of her cage.
"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir..."
"Your family?"
"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir... Dobby's is a house-elf—bound to serve one house and one family forever..."
"Do they know you're here?" asked Harry curiously.
Dobby shuddered. "Oh, no, sir, no... Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir..."
"But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?" Harry asked.
"Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments..."
"But why don't you leave? Escape?"
"A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free... Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir..."
"And I thought I had it bad staying here for another four weeks," Harry said now. "This makes the Dursleys sound almost human. Can't anyone help you? Can't I?" Almost at once, Harry wished he hadn't spoken. Dobby dissolved again into wails of gratitude.
"Please." Harry whispered frantically, "Please be quiet. If the Dursleys hear anything, if they know you're here..."
"Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby... Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew..."
Harry, who was feeling distinctly hot in the face, said, "Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I'm not even top of my year at Hogwarts, that's Y/n and Hermione, they..."
But he stopped quickly, because thinking about Y/n and Hermione was painful.
"Harry Potter is humble and modest." said Dobby reverently, his orblike eyes aglow. "Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
"Voldemort?" said Harry.
Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and moaned, "Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!"
"Sorry" said Harry quickly. "I know lots of people don't like it. My friend Ron..."
He stopped again. Thinking about Ron was painful, too.
Dobby leaned toward Harry, his eyes wide as headlights.
"Dobby heard tell." he said hoarsely. "That Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time just weeks ago... that Harry Potter escaped yet again."
Harry nodded and Dobby's eyes suddenly shone with tears. "Ah, sir." he gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing. "Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later... Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."
There was a silence broken only by the chink of knives and forks from downstairs and the distant rumble of Uncle Vernon's voice.
"W...what?" Harry stammered. "But I've got to go back, term starts on September first. It's all that's keeping me going. You don't know what it's like here. I don't belong here. I belong in your world, at Hogwarts."
"No, no, no," squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. "Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."
"Why?" said Harry in surprise.
"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"
"What terrible things?" said Harry at once. "Who's plotting them?"
Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head frantically against the wall.
"All right!" cried Harry, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. "You can't tell me. I understand. But why are you warning me?" A sudden, unpleasant thought struck him. "Hang on,this hasn't got anything to do with Vol, sorry...with You-Know-Who, has it? You could just shake or nod," he added hastily as Dobby's head tilted worryingly close to the wall again.
Slowly, Dobby shook his head. "Not, not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sir."
But Dobby's eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to give Harry a hint. Harry, however, was completely lost.
"He hasn't got a brother, has he?"
Dobby shook his head, his eyes wider than ever.
"Well then, I can't think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts," said Harry. "I mean, there's Dumbledore, for one thing, You do know who Dumbledore is, don't you?"
Dobby bowed his head.
"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength. But, sir." Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper. "There are powers Dumbledore doesn't... powers no decent wizard..."
And before Harry could stop him, Dobby bounded off the bed, seized Harry's desk lamp, and started beating himself around the head with earsplitting yelps.
A sudden silence fell downstairs. Two seconds later Harry, heart thudding madly, heard Uncle Vernon coming into the hall, calling, "Dudley must have left his television on again, the little tyke!"
"Quick! In the closet!" hissed Harry, stuffing Dobby in, shutting the door, and flinging himself onto the bed just as the door handle turned.
"What...the...devil...are...you...doing?" said Uncle Vernon through gritted teeth, his face horribly close to Harry's. "You've just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke... One more sound and you'll wish you'd never been born, boy!"
He stomped flat footed from the room.
Shaking, Harry let Dobby out of the closet.
"See what it's like here?" he said. "See why I've got to go back to Hogwarts? It's the only place I've got...well, I think I've got friends."
"Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?" said Dobby slyly.
"I expect they've just been...wait a minute." said Harry, frowning. "How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?"
Dobby shuffled his feet. "Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best..."
"Have you been stopping my letters?"
"Dobby has them here, sir," said the elf. Stepping nimbly out of Harry's reach, he pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he was wearing. Harry could make out Hermione's neat writing, Y/n's stylish scripture, Ron's untidy scrawl, and even a scribble that looked as though it was from the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Hagrid.
Dobby blinked anxiously up at Harry.
"Harry Potter mustn't be angry... Dobby hoped... if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him... Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir..."
Harry wasn't listening. He made a grab for the letters, but Dobby jumped out of reach.
"Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back, sir!"
"No." said Harry angrily. "Give me my friends' letters!"
"Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice." said the elf sadly.
Before Harry could move, Dobby had darted to the bedroom door, pulled it open, and sprinted down the stairs.
Mouth dry, stomach lurching, Harry sprang after him, trying not to make a sound. He jumped the last six steps, landing catlike on the hall carpet, looking around for Dobby. From the dining room he heard Uncle Vernon saying, "...tell Petunia that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr. Mason. She's been dying to hear..." Harry ran up the hall into the kitchen and felt his stomach disappear.
Aunt Petunia's masterpiece of a pudding, the mountain of cream and sugared violets, was floating up near the ceiling. On top of a cupboard in the corner crouched Dobby.
"No," croaked Harry. "Please... they'll kill me..."
"Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school..."
"Dobby... please..." Harry pleaded.
"Say it, sir..."
"I can't..."
Dobby gave him a tragic look. "Then Dobby must do it, sir, for Harry Potter's own good."
The pudding fell to the floor with a heart stopping crash. Cream splattered the windows and walls as the dish shattered. With a crack like a whip, Dobby vanished.
There were screams from the dining room and Uncle Vernon burst into the kitchen to find Harry, rigid with shock, covered from head to foot in Aunt Petunias pudding.
At first, it looked as though Uncle Vernon would manage to gloss the whole thing over. "Just our nephew, very disturbed, meeting strangers upsets him, so we kept him upstairs..." He shooed the shocked Masons back into the dining room, promised Harry he would flay him to within an inch of his life when the Masons had left, and handed him a mop. Aunt Petunia dug some ice cream out of the freezer and Harry, still shaking, started scrubbing the kitchen clean.
Uncle Vernon might still have been able to make his deal...if it hadn't been for the owl.
Aunt Petunia was just passing around a box of after dinner mints when a huge barn owl swooped through the dining room window, dropped a letter on Mrs. Mason's head, and swooped out again. Mrs. Mason screamed like a banshee and ran from the house shouting about lunatics. Mr. Mason stayed just long enough to tell the Dursleys that his wife was mortally afraid of birds of all shapes and sizes, and to ask whether this was their idea of a joke.
Harry stood in the kitchen, clutching the mop for support, as Uncle Vernon advanced on him, a demonic glint in his tiny eyes.
"Read it out!" he hissed evilly, brandishing the letter the owl had delivered. "Go on...read it out!"
Harry took it. It did not contain birthday greetings.
"Dear Mr. Potter,
We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine.
As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).
We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy.
Enjoy your holidays!
Yours sincerely,
Mafalda Hopkirk
IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE
Ministry of Magic..."
Harry looked up from the letter and gulped.
"You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school," said Uncle Vernon, a mad gleam dancing in his eyes. "Forgot to mention it... Slipped your mind, I daresay..." He was bearing down on Harry like a great bulldog, all his teeth bared. "Well, I've got news for you, boy... I'm locking you up... You're never going back to that school... never... and if you try and magic yourself out, they'll expel you!" And laughing like a maniac, he dragged Harry back upstairs.
Large green flame erupted in the fireplace of the Weasley home.
"Hello dear, out you pop." Mrs Weasley instructed as Y/n stepped out of the fireplace and Mrs Weasley took out her wand. "Scourgify." She chanted and quickly the ashes on Y/n's robes vanished. "There we are dear, good as new." Mrs Weasley gave him a smile.
"Thank you Mrs Weasley, and thank you once again for inviting me to stay these next few weeks." Y/n said to her gratefully.
"It's nothing at all dear. Now you'll be staying with Ron in his room." She told him as she moved to a nearby staircase. "Ron!" She called out his name. "Your friend is here."
A few moments went by when a door upstairs opened and Y/n could hear the sounds of footsteps on stairs as they descended and soon stood at the bottom of the staircase in front of him was Ron.
"Hiya Y/n." Ron said pleased to see him.
"Hello Ron." Y/n smiled. "Is Harry here yet?"
Ron just shook his head. "I've not heard back from him yet at all."
"Ron, why don't you help Y/n get set up in your room and then we can all have dinner, alright." Mrs Weasley said with a big smile.
"Uhh...right." Ron said moving on the stairs now.
"Oh Mrs Weasley, Is Noctis allowed out of her cage or will she be too much trouble?" Y/n asked now as he looked at Noctis in her cage looking grumpy.
"She should be fine dear." Mrs Weasley told him.
"Just keep her away from Scabbers." Ron was to quick to add.
"I will do my best." Was all Y/n said as he unlocked Noctis's cage door and she was quick to spring out of it and immediately begin to investigate her new surroundings.
Y/n now grabbed the handle to his trunk now as he lifted it and followed Ron up the stairs. Y/n noticed the the house seemed rather mismatched as if it had been built out of several different houses but he didn't mind this. He felt that it added to the buildings charm.
They soon reached Ron's room which was on the fifth floor and he opened the door for them. "It's not much." He warned Y/n who stepped inside.
Ron's room was small with a sloping ceiling. It was messy and almost every inch of it was covered in bright orange Chudley Cannons Quidditch team memorabilia. The team Y/n remembered that Ron supported.
"It does not have to be, As long as it is home to you." Y/n said to Ron who looked at his own room and nodded.
Y/n set his trunk and Noctis's cage down now. "Regarding earlier, what you said about Harry not..."
"Boys! Ginny! Come down to dinner!" Mrs Weasley's voice echoed through the house.
"We'd better go down, besides you'll love mom's cooking." Ron says.
"We can talk about it after dinner." Y/n nodded and the two boys left Ron's room now as they started heading back downstairs.
As they walked on the stairs a door opened and a small girl with red hair popped out. She took one look at Y/n and immediately began to rush down the stairs.
"That's Ginny." Ron informed him. "She's been talking about you and Harry non stop all summer. It's driving me crazy."
"She talks about us?" Y/n asked confused.
"Because your both famous names I suppose." Ron shrugged as they reached the bottom of the stairs now and Y/n could see Ginny staring at him, more specifically his grey eye which made him feel slightly uncomfortable. He looked to the side to see Mrs Weasley who was busy in the kitchen.
"Do you need any help Mrs Weasley?" He asked politely.
"No, no dear I've got this." She told him as she moved around the kitchen quickly. "You and everyone else take a seat at the kitchen table."
"Umm... Where do you want me to sit?" Y/n asked not wanting to be in the way.
"Come on Y/n, you can sit between us." George said as he suddenly grabbed Y/n's shoulder.
"That way you don't have to be sat between little Ronnie and Perfect Percy." Fred joked.
So Y/n sat down in a seat between Fred and George as plates filled with food began to be handed out.
"Evening Weasely's!" A voice called out and Y/n looked up to see a thin man, with hair as red as any of his children's. He was wearing long green robes, which were dusty and travel-worn. coming in through the front door.
The rest of the family all welcomed him home as Y/n stayed quiet.
Mr Weasley sat down at the table now. "I'm sorry dear but I'm only back for dinner I'm afraid, you know how it is with work these days."
Mrs Weasley just smiled as she placed down a plate in front of him and kissed his cheek before leaving to get her own plate. It was now that Mr Weasley noticed they had a guest amongst them. "Now you I don't recognise." He said looking at Y/n as if he was trying to solve a puzzle.
"Oh Y/n sir, Y/n Grindelwald." Y/n introduced himself.
"Goodness gracious." Mr Weasley couldn't help but say. "I do apologize my boy, but it's not a name you hear at your dinner table everyday." He said then held out his hand to Y/n. "Arthur Weasley."
Y/n took his hand and shook it. "It is alright sir. It is a nicer reaction than I have had from others in the past." Y/n admitted.
"Yes, I can imagine." Mr Weasley said nodding his head in understanding. "Well I've heard all about you from Ron of course, The twins have had their input as well."
"Don't worry Y/n." Fred piped up beside him now.
"We only said good things about you, honestly." George added.
"We left all the bad stuff for Atticus." Fred then said.
Y/n just gave them a sad smile and everyone started with their dinner as Mrs Weasley joined them now.
"You knew Y/n was coming today dear." She reminded her husband. "And so was Harry."
"Did I?" Mr Weasley asked. "I must have forgotten it was today. These raids are putting me out of sorts." Mr Weasley then said shaking his head. "I heard Harry was given an official warning by the ministry for using magic in front of Muggles yesterday."
Y/n and Ron just looked at each other now from across the dinner table.
"Tell me Y/n, what is your view on muggles?" Mr Weasley asked carefully as his wife quickly gave him a sharp look.
Y/n lowered his knife and fork slightly now. "I have no problems with muggles myself Mr Weasley. In fact our friend Hermione is a muggle and she is far smarter than most pure blooded wizards I have met." Y/n said and Mr Weasley let out both a smile and a chuckle.
"Very well done." Mr Weasley said. "You have a good head on your shoulders Y/n. It is a shame more pure blooded wizards do not think the same way."
"You mean the Malfoys?" Y/n asked and Mr Weasley lowered his own fork. "My brother Atticus is friends with their son, Both he and Draco behave rather like most pure blooded families do."
"I suspect Lucius has taken a liking to Atticus then." Mr Weasley said grimly but stopped when he looked at Mrs Weasley. "Enough of that though tell us about how you and Ron became friends."
Ron and Y/n were sat in Ron's room now as they let their dinner digest.
"Your family is nice." Y/n said with a smile to Ron.
"When they aren't being annoying." Ron said back.
"Do not be like that." Y/n told him. "I would love it if I could have a nice meal with Grandmother and Atticus."
"You guys don't eat together?" Ron asked.
"We used to, Back when things were easier. Before Atticus and I found out we were Grindelwald's." Y/n explained.
"You mean you didn't always know?"
Y/n shook his head in response. "When we were eight, Atticus and I were exploring the attic, Grandmother had always told us not to go up there, said that it was cursed. But Atticus convinced me there must be something up there. That is when we came across a box filled with clippings from old Daily Prophets. It was articles about our parents and even some very old ones about our great uncle. Atticus and I were shocked and took them to our Grandmother. Naturally she was shocked we had found them and very angry too. But only because she knew she could not keep the truth from us a little longer. She sat us down and gave us a brief explanation on our family history.
Atticus changed after that, He became distant and prideful. He started researching into our family more and more spending his time eating in his room rather than with us. Soon he stopped looking at me like a brother entirely and treated me like an eyesore. But at the end of the day he is still my brother and I miss him very much." Y/n admitted. "I still eat with Grandmother at the table now but we often catch one another looking at Atticus's empty seat."
"Woah..." Was all Ron was able to say and Y/n just sat down on the spare bed in Ron's room. "So... what do think Dad was talking about when he mentioned Harry being in trouble with the ministry?" Ron asked Y/n trying to change the topic now.
"Well, It sounds like Harry used Magic in front of Muggles." Y/n said. "I know he joked about using it on his family so he would have some breathing room, But I cannot imagine why he would actually use it when he knows it could get him kicked out of Hogwarts."
"Do you think he's in danger?" Ron asked worried. "I mean he's not been responding to my letters all summer."
"He hadn't responded to my letters either, Only you and Hermione." Y/n said back.
"Would rather it was her not responding, all she does is go on about school work despite the fact were out of school." Ron said annoyed.
"So, what can we do about Harry?"
"It's not like we can just go there ourselves now is it?" Ron said to Y/n.
"Perhaps we can help." A voice said and both Y/n and Ron looked to see Fred and George stood in the door way.
"Bloody Hell! How long have you two been there?" Ron asked the twins.
"Just long enough to hear you two complaining about how much you miss your dear Harry." George teased.
"Lucky for you both we might have a solution." Fred then said as he held up a pair of keys.
Ron's eyes widened. "You don't mean..."
"Dad's gone back to work and we'll just wait for everyone else to fall asleep before sneaking out." George told the two.
"Brilliant!" Ron said but Y/n looked sceptical .
Uncle Vernon was as bad as his word. He had paid a man to fit bars on Harry's window. He himself fitted a cat-flap in the bedroom door, so that small amounts of food could be pushed inside three times a day. They let Harry out to use the bathroom morning and evening. Otherwise, he was locked in his room around the clock. He lay on his bed watching the sun sinking behind the bars on the window and wondered miserably what was going to happen to him.
What was the good of magicking himself out of his room if Hogwarts would expel him for doing it? Yet life at Privet Drive had reached an all-time low. Now that the Dursleys knew they weren't going to wake up as fruit bats, he had lost his only weapon. Dobby might have saved Harry from horrible happenings at Hogwarts, but the way things were going, he'd probably starve to death anyway.
The cat flap rattled and Aunt Petunias hand appeared, pushing a bowl of canned soup into the room. Harry, whose insides were aching with hunger, jumped off his bed and seized it. The soup was stone-cold, but he drank half of it in one gulp. Then he crossed the room to Hedwig's cage and tipped the soggy vegetables at the bottom of the bowl into her empty food tray. She ruffled her feathers and gave him a look of deep disgust.
"It's no good turning your beak up at it, that's all we've got," said Harry grimly.
He put the empty bowl back on the floor next to the cat flap and lay back down on the bed, somehow even hungrier than he had been before the soup.
Supposing he was still alive in another four weeks, what would happen if he didn't turn up at Hogwarts? Would someone be sent to see why he hadn't come back? Would they be able to make the Dursleys let him go?
The room was growing dark. Exhausted, stomach rumbling, mind spinning over the same unanswerable questions, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep.
He dreamed that he was on show in a zoo, with a card reading UNDERAGE WIZARD attached to his cage. People goggled through the bars at him as he lay, starving and weak, on a bed of straw. He saw Dobby's face in the crowd and shouted out, asking for help, but Dobby called, "Harry Potter is safe there, sir!" and vanished. Then the Dursleys appeared and Dudley rattled the bars of the cage, laughing at him.
"Stop it," Harry muttered as the rattling pounded in his sore head. "Leave me alone... cut it out... I'm trying to sleep..."
He opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on the window. And someone was goggling through the bars at him: One frecklefaced, red haired, long nosed and the other with medium length brown hair and a grey eye.
Ron and Y/n were outside Harry's window.