I would highly recommend reading Book One before Book Two, or there may be certain references and changes that you won't understand!
Neville was bored. Home from his first year at Hogwarts, Neville had expected a fair amount of boredom. After all, there would be no classes, no homework, no spells, and worst of all, no friends. Though Harry and Ron had been quite kind of Neville over vacation, and invited him over nearly every day, they had now gone away on holiday, leaving Neville home with only his grandmother for company. He had not even received a letter from them, though each had promised to write daily.
Neville sat in his grandmother's ornate, slightly dead garden. The heat bore down on the back of his sweaty shirt and sunburned neck, but Neville did not notice. He was quite preoccupied trying to remember every moment of his first year at Hogwarts.
This was an activity Neville had found himself doing more and more often as the dull summer droned on and on, for he did not want to forget even a moment of his spectacular first year.
Neville was just remembering his encounter with Voldemort in the forest when he heard a shrill voice shouting his name. His trance broken, Neville stood up at once and proceeded into the house, correctly guessing who was calling him. Neville made a great attempt to smarten himself up before reaching his grandmother, though it was quite futile in the heat of the afternoon.
"Stop dawdling in the garden, boy." His grandmother snapped, looking harshly at Neville. "What are you doing out there anyway? No doubt causing trouble, or planning shenanigans for you and your friends."
Neville tried to ignore his grandmother as she rambled on about Harry and Ron, his best friends from Hogwarts, and how they were surely a bad influence on Neville. Though she had been somewhat mollified after meeting Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Weasley, and realizing they were quite nice people, Neville's grandmother had not forgiven him for a slight incident that had occurred at their house the first, and last, time he and his friends had gotten together there.
Neville tried very hard not to smile as he remembered that day, for his grandmother was still lecturing crossly. He recalled creeping into the dusty old library with his friends, attempting to find a book to help with their summer Transfiguration homework, and accidentally breaking a rather ornate glass vase, of which his grandmother had been quite fond. Though the three boys had tried to explain the situation, they were unsuccessful, and Harry and Ron were sent home at once. The two boys had later written to Neville apologizing, and saying they had still had an enjoyable time, but Neville still felt like an outsider for not being able to welcome his home to his very best friends.
At last, Neville's grandmother stopped talking and looked expectantly at her grandson. "Well?" she asked irritably.
Neville panicked. He could not admit that he had not been listening, for his grandmother would surely be angry. However, he could not say the wrong thing at this crucial moment, or he would surely be risking serious punishment. Neville did the only natural thing he could. He looked timidly up at his grandmother, widening his eyes in an attempt to appear angelic, and said, "S-sorry?" hoping his grandmother would repeat herself.
She sighed theatrically. "I said, can I trust you to stay here for one evening without causing trouble?" She looked crossly at her grandson.
Neville nodded quickly. His grandmother was going to Great Uncle Algie's for the evening, and Neville desperately did not want to go. Though he did not mind his uncle in very small doses, he despised seeing the wizened old man for the long periods of time that a dinner would require. "Y-yes Gran, you can trust me. I'll be good, promise."
Neville's grandmother looked appraisingly at him. He could feel her sharp cold eyes assessing him. "Very well." She said crisply at last. "I will be leaving very shortly." She turned at once and proceeded into the gloomy house, Neville following happily behind.
In ten minutes time, Neville stood in the lounge, saying a last goodbye to his grandmother. He had attempted to clean up while she bustled around the house, for he felt his grandmother might feel slightly better leaving the house to a clean Neville than a messy one. He was right, and she did not once threaten to force him to come along.
At last, after several last minutes warnings and threats, Neville's grandmother departed through the fireplace. Neville stood for a moment, staring at the vibrant green flames, until he was well and truly sure his grandmother had gone. At last, Neville had freedom.
After pausing in the kitchen for a biscuit or two, a delicacy his grandmother did not often allow, Neville proceeded up to his room. He climbed the stairs slowly, munching loudly and enjoyably, glad his grandmother had gone out. She did not leave Neville alone often, for she did not trust him at all, especially after the incident with Harry and Ron.
After this thought had crept into Neville's mind, he began pondering his friends' lack of letters once again. They had promised to write; surely they wouldn't both have forgotten altogether. Neville had a very strange suspicion his grandmother might, perhaps, be hiding the letters, for fear that they might contain ideas for more terrible plans. He decided to investigate.
Neville was quite preoccupied with how he would carry out such a search as he entered his room, and decided it might perhaps be a good idea to carry his wand, though he was not allowed to use it. Neville felt much safer just carrying the faithful instrument, however. He hurried out of the room, oblivious to the strange being sitting on his bed until it emitted a very loud sneeze.
Neville paused in the doorway of his bedroom, almost too scared to turn around and find out who was in his room. A list of possibilities ran through Neville's head, each option more unlikely that the previous. At last, gripping his wand extremely tightly in his sweaty hand, Neville turned around to quite an unusual sight.
A small creature was standing on the bed, looking extremely innocent. Neville lowered his wand slightly to get a better look. It looked to be about the size of a small child, thought quite a bit skinnier. It had large, bat-like ears and unnaturally large green eyes. Its limbs were extremely skinny and knobby, and it wore a strange bit of old, draped fabric, which was tattered and soiled. Neville felt extremely grateful that his grandmother had chosen this evening to go out, for she certainly would have punished Neville most severely for this mysterious being in his room.
At last, the creature staring expectantly at him, Neville spoke. "H-hello." He said cautiously, trying to be polite despite his fear.
The creature's eyes widened even more, and it smiled. "Neville Longbottom!" It exclaimed, tipping over slightly from the shock. "Dobby has been wanting to meet Neville Longbottom for a long time! Dobby has heard many great things!"
Neville was a bit confused, and still slightly afraid, especially after the creature's strange greeting. "Erm, wh-what are you?" He asked nervously, hoping the creature would not take offense to such a question.
"I is Dobby, Dobby the house elf!" He exclaimed, attempting to bow while balancing precariously on Neville's pillow.
Neville relaxed slightly, for he did not think elves were very harmful. "S-sorry, but what are you doing in my bedroom?" He asked, confused.
Dobby straightened up from his lopsided bow. "Dobby has come to warn Neville Longbottom he must not go back to Hogwarts School this year!" He said this in such a cheerful voice that Neville did not believe he was serious for a few moments.
"But I've got to go back!" Neville exclaimed after a bit of silence. "I'm all alone here! I want to see my friends, and learn more spells, and….. and….." Neville was not sure how else to express his dire need to return to Hogwarts.
"Neville Longbottom must not go! There is bad things coming to Hogwarts this year, and Neville Longbottom must stay safe!" The elf stared nervously at Neville, wide-eyed and innocent.
Neville began to feel a bit anxious, for he had experienced quite enough terrible things in his first year at school. "What sort of bad things?" He asked nervously. "How do you know? And who's going to be causing them?"
"Dobby cannot say, sir! Only that bad things will be coming, and Neville Longbottom must not go back to school!" The house elf looked fearfully around the room as though he were afraid of something.
"Why can't you say, Dobby?" Neville asked politely, hoping a change of tone might help persuade the reluctant elf.
"Dobby will be punished by his master if he says anything else!" he exclaimed sadly.
Neville was taken aback. "Punished? How?" He could understand the elf's hesitance now, for Neville, too, did not like being punished.
"Master makes Dobby do bad things! Master once made Dobby iron his hands. Dobby does not like being punished by his master." Dobby's eyes grew scared as he said this, and before Neville could stop him, rammed his head into the wall.
Neville gasped at such a terrible sight, and attempted to pull the elf away. "Stop, stop!" He shouted.
At last, Dobby stepped away from the wall, his eyes unfocused. "Dobby is forced to punish himself when he speaks ill of his masters." He said sadly.
"That's terrible!" Neville exclaimed, feeling suddenly grateful for his grandmother's less harsh punishments. "Dobby, isn't there anything you can tell me that wouldn't make you punish yourself? Can't you tell me who is behind all the bad things that are going to happen? Is it-" Neville paused, suddenly getting an idea. What if Voldemort was behind the coming disasters? Neville panicked. "D-Dobby, it isn't You-Know-Who, is it?" He was hoping desperately the elf would say no.
Thankfully, he did. "No sir, not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" Dobby appeared to be giving Neville a significant look as he said this, but Neville did not understand why, for he was busy feeling relieved.
"If it's not You-Know-Who, then I think I'll be alright. Dumbledore's at Hogwarts! And Harry and Ron helped me last year, I'm sure they would again, they're great friends!" Neville felt as though he surely must have convinced the elf Hogwarts was safe.
"Friends? Neville Longbottom's friends have not even written to him!" Dobby exclaimed in a shrill voice.
Neville was taken aback. He felt as though it were different when someone else criticized his friends' lack of communication. "Yes, but I suppose they must be busy, and they might not have owls, and-" Neville paused suspiciously. "Hang on, how d'you know they haven't written me?"
Dobby's eyes grew wide, a guilty expression on his face. "Dobby only thought… If Neville Longbottom did not hear from his nice friends… he might be easier convinced… to stay home this year…" The elf looked down shamefully.
Neville suddenly felt much better. Although Dobby had been quite rude by taking his only source of comfort away, it was much better than the alternative; that his friends had forgotten altogether. Despite his frustration, Neville smiled. "Can I have the letters?" He asked excitedly.
To his great surprise, the elf shook his head. "Neville Longbottom must say he will not go back to Hogwarts before he may have his letters." With this pronouncement Dobby jumped off the bed, landing lightly on the floor and looking imploringly at Neville, who gulped.
"I-I'm sorry, Dobby, but I've got to go back. I need to see Harry and Ron, I'll go mad if I have to live here all year!"
Dobby sighed and ran out the bedroom door, Neville chasing him desperately. The elf scampered down a long flight of stairs, Neville panting and wheezing behind. Dobby paused at the bottom. "Neville Longbottom must say he will stay home, or Dobby will have no choice."
Neville shook his head. "I'm going, Dobby!" He said fiercely, lunging desperately for the letters he was sure the elf was hiding. He missed, however, as Dobby turned suddenly and ran into the lounge. Neville regained his balance and followed behind. He stopped short in the doorway, sure his eyes must be deceiving him. Dobby was standing in the middle of the room, levitating several glass ornaments and china plates. Neville felt his stomach drop. "Dobby, please!" He shouted.
The elf shook his head. "Dobby must protect Neville Longbottom."
With that pronouncement, there was a loud cracking sound and Dobby disappeared. The plates and ornaments fell to the floor, smashing into pieces. Neville stared at them in despair, a sinking feeling in his stomach. His grandmother would never forgive him.