(Haile Potter will be portrayed as Lucy Hale in her younger years and Megan Fox in her older years).
Disclaimer: I of course do not own Harry Potter
I stared up at my ceiling of small, upstairs bedroom, pondering whether I should go downstairs for my early dinner or not. Since I had been home all summer, I had tried my very best to avoid the Dursleys, but sometimes it was inevitable. For one, I was hungry, and two, I was lonely.
Then, I realized my company would be the Dursleys, and I decided I rather stay up here in my bedroom alone. Besides, I had my gorgeous, snowy white owl, Hedwig. I talked to her when I was lonely or bored, and she was quite a good listener.
Hedwig was my only real proof that I had spent the past year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Even after a whole year, I was still trying to process the fact that I was a witch. After eleven years of being your typical unwanted orphan, to have a giant gamekeeper named Hagrid burst into your shack out at sea shouting that you were a witch after running from hundreds of letters that had been chasing after you from some unknown relation, it was a bit of a shock.
Hello, understatement!
Okay: it was completely mind-blowing. Hogwarts had been more than I could have ever imagined. The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was simply the greatest man and wizard in the world, and my two best friends I had made were the only friends I had ever really had. And then there was the magic. Doing magic. With a magic wand. I felt like the luckiest twelve-year old girl in the world (for today was my twelfth birthday!).
Well, almost. It was my birthday, but I never celebrated it, of course. However, I never had to spend the whole night in my room, pretending I didn't exist. Although it wasn't much of a change from normal days. Weren't normal kids birthdays supposed to be special?
I'm not normal, I quickly reminded myself. I defeated the Darkest Lord of all-time when I was merely an infant, after he had murdered my parents, leaving me with a famous lightning-shaped scar on my forehead. I was definitely not normal, even in the wizarding world.
Anyhow, the reason why I was spending the whole night in my room, pretending I didn't exist was because Uncle Vernon was inviting over the Masons, and if dinner went well, Uncle Vernon would have a very large deal signed. I was to stay out of the way, no matter the circumstances.
I was bored most of the time, for my uncle locked up my school trunk, books, and broomstick in my old cupboard under the stairs. Great. So, I wasn't going to practice Quidditch all summer and I couldn't even do my homework. It sounds ridiculous, but I was fascinated by the schoolwork we completed.
Anyway, here's where my second year of witchcraft begins, in my room pretending I don't exist, while the Dursleys got ready for their big dinner date.
"Haile!" came Aunt Petunia's sharp screech from downstairs.
I indifferently stood up and walked downstairs. There was a bowl of cereal waiting for me. Aunt Petunia watched me with hawk eyes as I poured the milk, making sure I didn't spill any. She stood near me while I nearly inhaled the cereal, and when I was done, she whisked away the bowl and spoon.
"Nice dress," I commented, eyeing her blue cocktail dress. In truth, she looked rather disproportional in it, but I wouldn't dare say anything.
"Hurry upstairs!" was the reply I received. While she peeked out the window, looking for the Masons' car, I stole a banana from the bowl of fruit on the counter by the fridge, and ran upstairs.
I was awfully skinny, but I had a large appetite. After several months of huge breakfasts, lunches, and dinners of Hogwarts, I was not used to eating so frugally. As I walked up the stairs, I thought the thought I had been thinking for the whole summer thus far.
Why hadn't Ron or Hermione or Hagrid written? Ron told me that he was going to write. Hermione and Hagrid wouldn't just leave me stranded, either. I shrugged, preferring to think that all had their reasons, and since Hedwig was not allowed out, I could not send her.
As I reached my room, I faintly heard the Masons arrive downstairs and I quickly shut the door and flung myself on the bed. From underneath me, came a small yelp. I jumped back up as though electrocuted.
I stifled a large scream. There was something on my bed and I just sat on it. "Oh, Dobby is so sorry!" came a squeaky voice, and, my face white and bewildered, I looked at the small creature I had landed on.
It looked like a little elf. It had large ears, humungous green eyes, wrinkly, brownish-greenish skin, and it wore a dirty, aged pillowcase. "What in Merlin's name…" I murmured.
The little character followed suit, and stood up. It bowed deeply, and spoke again. "Haile Potter! So sorry to have startled you! I am Dobby, the house-elf! Dobby, ma'am, just Dobby will do!" the elf squeaked, and I nervously glanced at the shut door.
"Um, Dobby, would you mind keeping your voice low?" I asked, politely. "And it's nice to meet you." I sat down on the bed, and stared at the little creature.
"Oh, it's Dobby's pleasure!" it shrieked, and then realized it disobeyed my orders and began to choke itself.
"Hey!" I hissed, bewildered. "Stop—it's okay!" I wrestled its arms away from its neck, and the elf looked at me with its huge eyes.
"Oh, thank you, Haile Potter. Us house-elves have to punish ourselves for every little thing! Just coming here was a terrible punishment." He (I'm presuming it was masculine) showed me his bandaged hands. I took in a sharp breath.
"Why?" I asked, puzzled. "Why do you have to punish yourself for coming here?"
"Oh, if Dobby's master knew…" Dobby said, shivering. "Dobby's punishment would be much, much worse." But his eyes shone as he looked up at me. "But Dobby had to come. Dobby had to warn Haile Potter about the dangers ahead! There are terrible, terrible dangers, and Haile Potter must not—"
"Dangers?" I interrupted, skeptically. "Listen: no offense, but I don't even know you. I have no idea who sent you or if you could be lying. So, excuse me while I don't care about these so-called 'dangers' you speak of."
"No, no, no, Haile Potter," Dobby squeaked. "Haile Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby only wants to help her; no one sent Dobby. Dobby doesn't lie. If Dobby should lie, Dobby should punish himself deeply! Dangers ahead, Haile Potter, dangers!" Jeez, doesn't this thing ever speak in first person?
"Look, Dobby, it's nothing against you or anything. But what the bloody hell are you talking about?" I blurted out.
Dobby pointed at me. "Haile Potter must not go back to Hogwarts," he said, very dramatically.
I paused. I laughed. "Good one," I said, smiling. "No, seriously. Why are you here?"
Dobby shook his head. "Dobby is quite serious, Haile Potter, ma'am. There is a terrible plot, Haile Potter, that Dobby himself has known about for months! Haile Potter must not put herself in danger now! Haile Potter must not return to Hogwarts!" the elf screamed.
My eyes widened and I quickly covered Dobby's mouth. "SH!" I hissed. "You've got to be quiet. And what? A plot? Who? What is it?"
"Dobby can not tell," Dobby whispered, once I lowered my hand. "It is secret. All Dobby can tell you is…it is not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…"
"What?" I hissed. I leaned back on my bed. "Not Vold—" I stopped short in case Dobby would scream if he heard his name. "I mean, if not You-Know-Who…then…then who?"
"Dobby can not speak of this any longer!" Dobby squealed.
"SH! Okay, okay, okay. But listen, Dobby, no matter what this…plot…is, I'm going back to Hogwarts. I can't not go," I told Dobby, helplessly. "It's my life…"
"Haile Potter must not go!" Dobby mumbled fearfully. "Haile Potter must not go to Hogwarts! Stay here, Haile Potter, stay here and be safe!"
"No!" I said forcefully. "I can't stay here with my relatives, Dobby! I have to see my friends…"
"Friends that don't even write to Haile Potter?" Dobby said mischievously.
I looked at Dobby with a suspicious look. "How do you know they haven't been writing?" I asked, annoyed.
Dobby pulled out a thick stack of envelopes from his pillowcase. "Haile Potter must understand why Dobby did it. If Haile Potter thinks that her friends don't write, she will not want to return to school."
"Give me them!" I exclaimed, reaching for them.
Dobby shook his head. "No!" he squeaked. "Haile Potter must promise she will not go back to Hogwarts first!"
"I won't do it. Give me my letters, Dobby!" I demanded, furiously.
Dobby ran downstairs without another word and I frantically ran after him. I peered around the staircase where Dobby was sitting on the kitchen table, hovering Aunt Petunia's pudding.
My mouth dropped open. Magic! In the Dursleys' house! I'd be skinned alive and then brought back from the dead and killed again! "Dobby, no!" I squealed softly. "PLEASE."
"Haile Potter must say she will not return to Hogwarts," Dobby insisted stubbornly.
"I can't, I can't do that, just please—"
"Dobby has no choice. Dobby does this for Haile Potter's own safety."
My heart nearly beat through my chest, but the pudding was dropped and it smashed over the newly cleaned, white kitchen floor. My mouth dropped in horror again, and Dobby disappeared with a sickening crack.
I acted on instinct. I turned around and rushed upstairs, but before I reached my bedroom door, Uncle Vernon was climbing the stairs. "HOLD IT THERE, MISSY!" he yelled, his face a sickly purple and his mustache bristling.
"I didn't do it!" I screamed honestly. "I swear I didn't! There was this elf and he—"
"I'm SICK and TIRED of this nonsense! CLEAN IT UP! CLEAN IT UP," he bellowed, and threw me by the scruff of the neck down the stairs.
I landed swiftly on the second to last step, and as I hurriedly jumped the last two, the rest of the company appeared in the kitchen.
Aunt Petunia was looking frightened, Dudley dumbfounded, and the Masons confused and a little scared. "Who is this…young lady?" asked Mrs. Mason.
"I'm Haile!" I said, brightly, trying to regain my composure. Okay, maybe the night isn't ruined completely. At least Dobbyis gone and I can sneak Hedwig out tonight to explain to Ron and Hermione. I just have to clean this mess up and finish out the evening quiet.
That plan worked only for the next two minutes.
For two minutes later, a large barn owl came swooping in the living room window, dropping a letter on the coffee table, specifically in Mrs. Mason's ice cream bowl.
Mrs. Mason cried out in fear, and fled from the house in large sobs. Mr. Mason stood up abruptly and barked, "My wife is terribly afraid of owls, well, all birds, as a matter of fact. And would you look at the time…? Ten past eight. Looks like this evening has come to an…end, yes. Good-bye, Vernon, Petunia."
And he, too, rushed out of the house, grabbing his and his wife's coats.
There was a terrible, piercing silence. Seriously, who knew silence could be louder than noise?
I stood there, not daring to breathe.
Dudley waddled over to Mrs. Mason's ice cream bowl, and picked up the letter. He ripped it open and stared pointedly at his father.
His father walked over and snatched it from his son's hands. He eyed with his beady little eyes, evilly, and read the letter aloud with a forced serenity.
"Dear Ms. Potter, we have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was performed at your home at eight minutes past eight. As you should know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform magic outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion—" He stopped short. "Underage…wi—wizards…are not permitted to perform…ma—magic!"
"Oh, did I forget to mention that?" I squeaked quietly, my roseate cheeks burning.
"I daresay you did," Uncle Vernon said through clenched teeth. "Have I got a plan for you, girlie. I'm locking you up in your room and you're not to return to that—that school and if you try to magic yourself out, they'll expel you!" He laughed madly, and dragged an anguished me up the stairs and into my room.
He bolted up my door that very night. The next morning, I awoke to the sound of my window being fixed so that bars replaced the glass and a cat-flap being installed at the bottom of my door so food could be pushed through. Hedwig was my only companion and I lovingly shared with her the small amounts of food I received a few times a day.
I hadn't cried in months, but this had reached an all-time low. For three days straight, I cried. I had nowhere to go now. I couldn't return to Hogwarts. I couldn't leave Privet Drive without using magic, and then I would be shunned from the wizarding world. What was I to do?
On the third day of complete and utter misery, my plea was answered. I had fallen asleep in the afternoon, after crying myself to sleep, and I awoke to rattling. Irked, I looked over at Hedwig, but she was perched quite serenely, hooting at my window.
My bars were rattling. And someone was rattling them!
"RON!" I croaked happily, and peeked through the bars. "How did you…why are you…HI!" My grin was literally stretched from ear-to-ear, my bright smile shining in the darkness, outlining my dimples that hadn't shone in weeks.
"Haile, good to see you! I sent you a million letters, what have you been doing?" he asked, brightly. I forgot how red his hair was, how silly his grin looked, and how many freckles covered his long nose.
I could not believe he was here. He was sitting in a car. In mid-air. Fred and George were in the front seats, and they waved. My jaw dropped.
"RON! IS THAT A FLYING CAR?" I squealed and then shut my mouth. "Bloody hell, if the Dursleys wake up…what are you doing here?"
"Rescuing you! When you didn't answer my letters and Dad found out at work that you performed magic, I figured I'd find out what's going on myself. Hermione's been worried sick! Anyway, let's get this show on the road. Stand back."
George climbed to the back seat and expertly tied the rope tight on the bars.
I took a few steps back and watched silently as Fred revved up the car and pulled the bars out of the window with a large CLINK and a big VROOM, VROOM, VROOOOOOM.
"Hope that wasn't too loud," George apologized, as he quietly crawled through the window. "Where's your stuff, Haile?"
"Downstairs, under the cupboard. But my door's locked, and the cupboard…"
"Not a problem," Fred said, brightly, joining George and I in my bedroom. "We know how to lock-pick!" He pulled a safety pin out of his pocket and he began picking the lock on my door.
It opened quite easily, and I retrieved items from all around my room, including Hedwig, and handed them to Ron through my window. "You don't know how grateful I am," I gushed, handing him my snowy owl. "I've been locked up for three days and I've been miserable."
"What about the magic?" Ron blurted out.
"Oh, I'll explain in a minute, let me go help Fred and George," I told him, but George and Fred arrived a second later, lugging my trunk and broomstick up.
We loudly escorted my stuff through the window and into the car. Then, Fred helped me through the window and into the car, and George climbed in after me. Fred was the last one in, and just as we started the car again, Uncle Vernon burst his way through my door.
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS?!" he bellowed, and ran to the window.
Fred pushed the gas pedal and we were off. "SEE YOU NEXT SUMMER!" I yelled over my shoulder. Fred, George, and Ron burst out laughing, and I joined in, too.
After they made me stop thanking them, I explained to them about Dobby's visit.
"House-elves usually come from old, rich families and manors. Maybe someone sent him as a prank. Do you have any enemies, or anything?" George asked.
"Malfoy," Ron and I said together, laughing.
"Malfoy?" George and Fred asked together, incredulously.
"Yeah," Ron and I said simultaneously, again. "Draco Malfoy," Ron added.
"His dad—Lucius Malfoy—was a huge supporter of You-Know-Who back in the day. Came back to our side after it was over, but that's a load of rubbish, Dad reckons," Fred explained.
"Doesn't surprise me," Ron barked.
"Yeah. Malfoy is the most evil git we've ever met," I agreed.
"I'd try to stay clear of him, Haile," George forebode. "They're bad news, those Malfoys…"
We flew for a while longer in contemplative silence.
"So, how's everyone been?" I asked casually a while later.
"I've talked to Hermione a bit," Ron said. "Like I said, she's having a good summer, but worried sick about you. We'll have to write her when we're home. Mum and Dad are good. Percy's been shut up in his room a lot…doing who knows what."
"I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a prefect badge," Fred said, rolling his eyes. He glanced at his compass, and changed the direction a bit.
"So, where'd you get the car?" I asked curiously.
"We, er, borrowed it," Ron said, shrugging. "It's my Dad's, but if Mum knew we had it…" He drew an imaginary line from one side of his neck to the other. "Dead."
I nodded, understandingly. "We'll be there in fifteen minutes," George noted, looking down. "We're lucky it's a cloudy night."
Soon enough, we started going lower and lower. The sun just peaked over the tip of the horizon as we landed in front of the coolest place I had ever laid eyes on. Several small farm animals ambled around a several stories high house that was almost lopsided and very messy-looking. It was so clumsily made that it was beautiful in a way.
"Home," Fred said, motioning to a sign that read: The Burrow, in the front yard.
"I love it," I said automatically, finding that it was true. "Let's go in, shall we?"
They nodded agreeably, and started walking towards the house until…
Until we saw Mrs. Weasley standing in front of the door, arms crossed, her pink slipper tapping, her eyes looking dangerously evil, and her hair up in curlers.