Master and Apprentice Shorts

Short One

Summer of the Second Year

If there was anything Harry could say about his first summer away from Hogwarts the best summary he could come up with was that it was moderately miserable. The Dursleys were their normal dose of evil with a slightly more fearful edge to their usual meanness due to their decisive intolerance for magic. His friends… well… they weren't writing to him. Well, one of them was, but Ron and Hermione seemed to have forgotten him over the summer and left him to their own happy families while he sat in his room miserable.

One person, one blessed person, seemed to have remembered that he existed and took great pains to tell him all about her week.

Brianna Davis, fellow classmate and elven princess, consistently made his day every Sunday with a letter summarizing the eventful week that she had with her aunt and cousins in the States. What made it better was that her mode of transportation allowed him to write back.

Harry hadn't told her about Ron and Hermione's neglect of him until about halfway through the summer holidays. While her letters tended to hold him over (most of them were replies to homework questions he had since, while he had his to-do list memorized, he couldn't physically do any of it) he wished that he could have heard from the people who were his best friends. Or so he thought until the summer holidays.

When the absence of Ron and Hermione's correspondence reached Brianna's desk, the elf-girl wrote back telling him that Hermione had been writing to her the entire summer and mentioned that he didn't return any of the letters that she sent him. They wrote back several times in an effort to figure out why this was; especially when it was found out that Ron was in the same boat as Hermione. In the end, Brianna told the lot of them that she would investigate and ordered Ron and Hermione to send all letters written to Harry to her so she could forward them.

Of course, while all of this was going on, their mutual friend couldn't help but include several snide comments about wizards and their "ridiculously moronic aversion to muggle technology and its wonderful perks like e-mail, dammit!" It was Brianna, after all.

Harry reflected on the fact that Brianna had a very good point. While most wizards thought muggles were silly for using things like cars, airplanes, and electricity, there were many useful muggle things that the wizarding world could adapt to make their lives easier. Computers were a good example. Harry vaguely wondered just how much easier the Philosopher's Stone could have been protected if wizards could use magically based computers and magically enhanced electronic locks. From what Brianna had told him, elves had already adapted (sometimes even invented) muggle technology to their magic.

That was another thing Brianna took the time to write to him about; magical technological advances. There were things about magical history and its effect on muggle society that Harry never learned in History of Magic. In fact, he was certain that it wasn't in any wizard book save for any banned literature that might be available through means of wizarding black market. When he had told Brianna this, the elf hadn't hesitated in telling him that he could expect a general modern magical history book authored by a very reliable elf to find its way into his stack of Christmas presents that year. Harry prematurely thanked her for the gift.

This evening, Harry was sulking in his room. Two days ago, thanks to a ridiculously odd house-elf named Dobby, he had been locked inside his room for the remainder of the summer holidays. Maybe. There was a distinct chance that he wouldn't be able to leave in time to get to the Hogwarts Express. It wasn't fair! He received a warning for using under-aged magic in the presence of muggles without actually using under-aged magic at all and he was being punished for apparently using said magic he had never touched in his entire life. It wasn't like he hadn't expected the Dursley's to believe him, but he didn't understand why they never actually kicked him out of the house. It wasn't like he didn't have anywhere to go.

That was all on Saturday. On Sunday, the day before, Harry answered Brianna's letter, along with Hermione and Ron's, telling the three of them what had happened and the consequences for actions he actually wasn't responsible for. Today was Monday and he was going to have to wait a whole other week for a response.

He drew his legs up and rested his chin on his knees while kneading the bed covers with his feet. There was never a time when he felt more alone than at that moment; stuck in his room in the Dursley's house waiting for his friends to reply to him. Just six more days…

There was a flash and the usual phoenix that Brianna used appeared before him several days before his scheduled time. Harry straightened up. His mouth hung open. His limps slackened. His eyes widened. Every single shocked feature imaginable (to the point where describing all of them would be pointless) appeared across his short but skinny features.

Brianna? Yes, yes it had to be her. No one else would use a phoenix to carry mail.

Freydan, the bird was christened, gave him a somewhat impatient nip on the arm to show that whatever he had delivered was very important. Harry sprang into action and reached for the rolled up bit of parchment held tightly in its claws.

He unscrolled the thing and his eyes read over its meager contents.

"Be ready we are coming to get you. Don't do anything stupid. See you in two days.

-Brianna-"

Harry gaped at the letter and then looked up to stare open mouthed at the bird in front of him. Feydan merely looked amused, if that was possible for a bird to do so.

He couldn't help but wonder what she was planning and knew, just knew, that whatever it was he would probably leave with a bang. And that suited him fine.