Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.

Harry opened his eyes slowly. His back hurt again and he could not see a thing. 'Great. A dark room. How intimidating,' he thought sarcastically to himself as he remembered what had happened. He guessed that someone had found him, and since the neighbors were pretty much his enemies, he felt he should have expected this.

He got up and unsuccessfully tried to adjust his eyes to the light. After feeling around until his hands found a wall, Harry continued to grope in the darkness until he felt a doorknob. He tried to turn it, but it was locked. After a moment of thought, he reached for his wand—miraculously, he found it safe and secure in his pocket—and tapped the door, muttering "Alohomora." The lock clicked, and he opened the door slowly. A hint of light shone from somewhere above him.

"I must be in a basement or something," he guessed. He found a staircase and quietly tiptoed up to find another door at the top. This one opened easily, and Harry blinked as he faced the brighter light of a huge kitchen. Nobody was in the room. Listening carefully the whole time, he moved to a similarly empty living room.

"Maybe the people who live here are gone," he said to himself.

"Oh no, not everybody," said a familiar voice.

"Hello, Aranea." Harry said as he turned round to face her. Both of her ankles were bound and bandaged to help the sprains, and she was still a little pale. Despite this, she was smiling, and her eyes twinkled brightly.

"How did you unlock the door?" she asked.

"I know a few ways to pick a lock," he said with a grin.

"Well then, now that you're out, I can thank you properly."

"For what?" he asked.

"For saving me from that chubby kid, his gang of morons, and that dementor."

Harry gasped. "You're a witch?"

"Yup," she said.

"Do you go to Hogwarts?" he said suspiciously.

"Yes, but I'm in Slytherin," she answered.

Harry gaped at her in shock. Here was an extremely pretty witch who was willing to talk to him even though she was in Slytherin—he had good reason to be suspicious. He gripped his wand tightly at his side.

"Why are you here and why did you lock me in a basement earlier?" he snapped.

"Because the neighbours heard the shouting and the explosion and were coming out of their houses—I've heard what they say about you. Apparently, they think you're a little criminal and go to some delinquent school. They didn't look very happy. My parents hid you in case the police went looking for you or something. As for why I am here, my parents had to move us because their jobs were transferred.

"Oh," Harry said. He was rather stunned by such an honest-sounding answer. Then he realized there was a flaw in her story.

"How did you get me to your house before the neighbours got to me?"

Aranea glanced out the window and whispered, "My mum has a phoenix. He was invisible to the muggles, so he took us out of there by way of his flame apparation gift. I bet those muggles were quite surprised when you weren't there."

Harry quickly responded, "Show me your mum's phoenix if you can."

Almost immediately a phoenix appeared in a flash of fire. It landed on Aranea's shoulder and stared at Harry with great interest. For a moment, Harry was shocked, but he quickly hid his amazement. After a few seconds, the phoenix vanished.

Aranea smirked and said, "I believe you are wondering why I, a Slytherin, am helping Harry Potter of Gryffindor."

"Crossed my mind," Harry admitted.

"Well…I'm not like the rest of the Slytherins. I hate the Dark Arts, and because of that, I'm an outcast. I'm on Dumbledore's side, not You-Know-Who's."

Harry stood stunned. This was a rare moment and a rare chance. To befriend a Slytherin was unheard of in Gryffindor, but he could not help but feel pity for this girl; she was an outcast because of her ideals. Finally he found his voice again.

"Well, you are different from nearly every other Slytherin. Dumbledore'll be delighted to have at least one Slytherin on our side."

Aranea smiled. "I would love to have a real chance at Hogwarts. I've never had friends from any of the houses."

"What year are you at Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Coming into sixth year, just like you."

"Great," said Harry with a grin.

They chatted for several minutes. Suddenly a door slammed and a voice shouted, "Aranea, we're home from the hospital with the potion for your ankles!"

Aranea called back, "In the living room, Mum. Harry Potter is awake."

A small, thin woman appeared in the doorway, quickly followed by a tall, beefy man (though not as big as Uncle Vernon). Aranea's mother wore an incredible amount of jewelery, but Harry could sense a humbleness about her that did not match her looks. Her husband was exchanging some muggle spectacles for some strange glasses that had switches and dials on the thick ear holders; he also wore a watch that seemed oddly familiar to Harry, though he could not think where he had seen them before.

Aranea's father stretched out his hand, and Harry took it. The other man smiled, but he did not break the relative silence.

Aranea's mother spoke first. "So, you are Harry Potter." She noticed his scared look and quickly added, "Don't worry; your secret is safe with us."

"Thanks," said a still very surprised Harry. He checked his watch and gasped. It was nearly 7:00; he had to get home before he got into even more trouble.

Aranea saw his face and said, "I'll walk you home."

They left together and hurried down to Privet Drive, stopping at the Dursleys' house. After a hasty goodbye, they parted, and Harry walked up the steps. Just as he was about to open the door, it burst open, and he was roughly grabbed by Uncle Vernon and dragged to the kitchen.

Aunt Petunia and Dudley were sitting at the table each wearing equally furious expressions. Harry gulped. This was not going to turn out well. Uncle Vernon roughly pushed Harry into a chair and shouted, "You're finished! I don't care what those freak friends of yours say. I want you to pack your trunk and leave immediately! Go anywhere you want. I don't care if Whatever-His-Name-Is kills you or not, and that deal Petunia made is off!"

Uncle Vernon turned around and gave Harry an evil grin. He grabbed Harry again and pushed him to his room.

"I feel pity on you. If I tell my friends, you are going to be hexed into oblivion," said Harry.

"That is why I threw your stupid owl out of the house," Uncle Vernon replied.

They reached Harry's room; Harry waved his wand and dumped everything he owned into his trunk. After he was done, Uncle Vernon forced Harry downstairs and threw him bodily out the door. It slammed shut, and Harry could hear a click—it was locked. Harry stood up and began to walk away from Number 4.