Disclaimer: Anything familiar to JKR's books probably comes from there and is hers not mine. Also, Harry Potter, Hogwarts, the Wizarding World, and anything else that has to do with it belongs to the lovely JK Rowling, not me. I'm just playing in her sandbox and building my own Hogwarts in it.

Chapter Ten

Harry: Why am I not on much in the day? Oh, I help out around the house, go out on walks, go to town, and hang out with Dudley, that's all.

…

Harry: Dudley invited me to hang out with his friends all day, that's all.

…

Harry: Nothing's wrong, you guys. I'm just really busy.

Tracey: How's your homework coming, then? I need some help on the Charms paper.

Harry: Huh? Oh, I've been too busy. You know, hanging out with Dudley and the family. I'll get around to the work later. I've gotta go. Talk to you all another time.

Daphne: I'm worried about him.

Tracey: Yeah, he never doesn't do homework… He's always making Theo and Blaise do theirs during the year.

Daphne: I think we've got a problem on our hands. His homework is always done when we ask during school; we get the most help from him.

Tracey: Well, that's another thing to add to the list…

…

All: Happy Birthday, Harry!

Harry: Huh? Oh, thanks you guys.

Theo: Having a good one?

Harry: Uh… Yeah. I've gotta go; Uncle Vernon is calling me.

Daphne: I'm really worried about him now. It's like he forgot it was his birthday. Even if he didn't, which I don't think he did, he wasn't expecting that from us.

Blaise: Did you see how he hesitated before saying he's been having a good one?

Theo: Yeah. I was about to comment on it as well.

Tracey: Something fishy is going on with him. We've got to drag it out of him this year if not before school starts.

Daphne: Yeah. Any luck getting him to agree to come over, Trace?

Tracey: My dad said he could, but Harry turns the offer down every time. It's like he's afraid to even ask. Keeps saying things like he's busy with his family and helping around the house.

Blaise: Keep trying, please.

Tracey: I will.

…

Harry headed outside after doing the breakfast dishes to enjoy the sun as well as the peace and quiet while it lasted. He hated lying to his friends, which was what he had done just before his uncle had called him downstairs to make breakfast for his family. His birthday meant a nightmare for him; this year this uncle was having an important dinner, and he had to pretend not to exist the entire time.

Harry snorted lightly as he thought about having not to exist, something he'd had to do for most of his life to escape punishments. At least now he had something to do thanks to his journal. He was planning to talk with his friends the entire time. Not even he was blind enough not to see that his friends were trying to pry information about his relatives from him.

Suddenly, Harry saw two tennis ball eyes looking out at him from the bushes. Startled, he blinked and looked back to see nothing there, but he knew that it was something. Being a wizard meant anything was possible, including something looking at him from the bushes. Instead of moving, though, he put the information into his mind to ask his friends about before going back to his thoughts, only to be interrupted again by his cousin, Dudley, coming over.

"I know what day it is," he sang as he walked – no, waddled – over.

"You mean you've learned the days of the week well enough to know that it's Friday?" Harry retorted as he turned to face his whale of a cousin.

"I mean it's your birthday," Dudley sneered once he had let that statement run through his mind for a moment. "No friends writing to you? Do you even have friends?"

"How do you know they haven't written me?" Harry asked, a smirk on his face as Dudley suddenly became unsure of himself.

Dudley turned away as he had been doing all summer. It had been a huge surprise to his cousin that Harry suddenly wasn't as easy to pick on anymore. After being in Slytherin for ten months, Harry had picked up on a lot of sarcasm, cheek, and quick wit – a lot more than his cousin had. Suddenly, Harry was the one winning all arguments between the two, and Dudley was leaving him alone more and more. Harry went back to relaxing after that.

"BOY!"

Harry sighed as his uncle's voice broke through the silence that had fallen out in the backyard for a few hours after Dudley had left him alone. It was just getting dark, which meant it was time for dinner and then a night of silence. Standing up quickly, he made his way into the kitchen, being careful to walk on the newspaper as his aunt yelled at him to.

Eating the two slices of bread and the lump of cheese quickly, Harry made his way into his room just as the doorbell rang, ignoring his uncle's reminder to be silent. His journal was out of his hand and growing before he was even done closing his door.

He activated it, pulled out a pencil, held it to the writing page, and turned around to go fling himself onto his bed when he had to hold in a yell. On his bed was a tiny creature. It was covered in dirt, wearing an unbelievably messy and old pillowcase, and was staring at him with the eyes from that morning.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, his hands not moving from the doorknob or journal. "What are you?"

"Harry Potter!" the creature said in a high-pitched voice. "So long Dobby has been wanting to meet you… so long… It's such an honor to be meeting you."

"I'm sorry, but who are you? What are you?" Harry repeated to the thing that he guessed was named Dobby.

"Dobby, sir. Dobby the house-elf," Dobby said with a gleam in his eyes that Harry didn't understand.

Suddenly, Harry's journal began burning and it startled him enough that he looked down at it instead of at the house-elf. His eyes widened as he saw everything he and Dobby had just said was repeated on it, and his friends were all reading it.

Daphne: Harry, I just heated up your journal. What the bloody hell is going on?

That Daphne had just cursed shocked Harry more than anything else. Daphne never cursed. She was always hitting Theo and Blaise upside the head for doing it.

"I have no idea what's going on here, but I really can't have a house-elf in my room right now, Dobby," Harry said, answering both Daphne and Dobby. "This is a really bad time… My uncle has guests over and…" Harry trailed off.

Tracey: It's obvious Harry can't answer us directly right now, but he's doing it the best he can. Harry, if you can read this, a house-elf is a slave to a family in the wizarding world, usually rich and old ones like the Malfoys. This Dobby could be bad news, so be very careful.

Harry took Tracey's words into account from the corner of his eye as he watched Dobby rock back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking at Harry with a little fear.

"Harry Potter, sir, Dobby has come to warn you, but he wonders where to begin…" Dobby squeaked.

"Why not from the beginning?" Harry suggested, not knowing where the elf should begin either.

"Harry Potter, sir, you must not go back to Hogwarts," Dobby said suddenly, shocking Harry to his core.

"I have to go back to Hogwarts!" he almost yelled, but then remembered about his uncle so he just said it forcefully. "It's where my friends are, and it's my home! I can't stay here."

Theo: Something odd is going on here…

"Harry Potter, sir, there is a plot, an evil plot. It's going to happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Terrible things are to be happening at Hogwarts this year. You must not go back. You is to be in danger if you do." The elf looked very scared.

"Plot? What plot? What's going to happen? Who's doing it?"

"Dobby cannot say, sir. Please, you must be promising not to go back!"

"I have to go back! Term starts in September and my friends will be worried if I don't go!" Harry exclaimed, knowing that four of his friends were all reading what was somehow appearing in the journals without him writing it like there was nothing more important in the world.

"Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter, sir?" Dobby asked. Harry looked at Dobby confused before he realized that except for his four friends writing in the journals, he hadn't had a single piece of writing from any of his numerous friends.

"How do you know about that?" Harry asked sharply, ignoring the fact that Daphne had just written a message.

"Harry Potter must not be angry with Dobby. He was only acting for Harry Potter's own good," Dobby said while walking back a bit as Harry took a step closer to him.

"Have you been stopping my mail? Under whose orders? Your master's?"

"No, sir. Dobby's master doesn't know he is being here. Dobby will have to put his ears in the oven for being here." Harry looked startled at that because, from what Tracey had said, he had gathered house-elves had to follow orders like slaves.

"Have you been stopping my mail, though?" Harry repeated, putting that information away until later.

Dobby slowly pulled out a bundle of letters, some from each of his friends except the ones talking through the journals and Draco. "Harry Potter, please don't be mad. Dobby is just doing this for Harry Potter's own good."

"Give me those letters, Dobby," Harry said through his teeth.

"Harry Potter must promise not to go back to Hogwarts," Dobby stated, keeping the letters out of Harry's reach.

"I have to go back to Hogwarts, Dobby," Harry said. "It's my home." Harry knew that statement would cause him problems in the long run from his friends, but he had to say it to try and get the letters.

"Then Dobby is being sorry, Harry Potter. Dobby must do this for Harry Potter's own good." With that, Dobby ran between Harry's legs, opened the door, and ran out of the room.

Harry quickly glanced down at his journal, which was burning in his hand.

Daphne: DO NOT FOLLOW HIM! He's going to try and get you in trouble so you can't go back to school!

Tracey: We'll tell the others a house-elf was stopping your mail. Don't bother with the letters, Harry.

Theo: Yeah, I mean, you've been talking with us all summer.

Blaise: Ignore the elf; stay in your room.

"Sorry, guys, but I can't let that elf do anything downstairs. I don't care about the letters that much; it's my uncle's wrath if something goes wrong with this dinner that I'm afraid of." With that, Harry ran out of the room, his journal shrunken but still open in his hand so that the four could still read what was being said around him, not that Harry realized they could.

Harry found Dobby in the hallway outside of the kitchen, a finger pointed into the kitchen. Following the finger, Harry's gaze found Aunt Petunia's pudding floating in midair.

"No, Dobby, don't!" Harry hissed at the elf, knowing that if it fell, he'd be blamed even if he was in his room.

"Harry Potter must say he is not going back to Hogwarts," Dobby repeated quietly. "It is the only way."

"I can't!" Harry hissed, his heart falling as he realized he was about to get it good. "Hogwarts is my home."

"Then Dobby must do this, for Harry Potter's own good." With that, Dobby's index finger flicked down to the ground before he snapped his fingers and disappeared with a crack. The pudding fell to the ground with a loud crash, and his aunt, his uncle, his cousin, and his uncle's two guests all came running into the room.

His uncle made up an excuse about why Harry had been in his room while his aunt got out ice cream and made Harry clean up the mess. Harry's journal was still open and in his hand, but he knew that putting it into his pocket while his uncle could see him would give it away, so he kept it in his hand the entire time he was cleaning.

Sadly, an owl came with a letter that Harry was forced to read aloud after the Masons, the guests of his uncle that he was trying to get a deal off of, had left. It informed him, and in turn his family, that he wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school. Harry knew he was in trouble when his uncle grinned an evil grin before locking Harry in his room.

"You're never going back, Boy," his uncle snarled through the door. "You're staying in this room forever."

With that, Harry heard his uncle putting bolts and locks onto his door and watched as a cat flap was put at the bottom of his door. Harry knew it was for meals without even asking. Uncle Vernon talked on the phone quite loudly as he ordered metal bars to be put onto Harry's windows the next day.

Harry finally fell onto his bed, shrunken journal still in his hand somehow, and tried to tune his angry uncle out. It was very hard until his journal started burning in his hand, and he un-shrunk it to find an open and active journal in his hand with very worried friends still on.

Daphne: Harry, what was that?

Tracey: No more games, Harry. We know something is going on at that house, and you're telling us what!

Harry sighed before taking the pencil and beginning to reply, not in the mood to try and figure out what had happened earlier with Dobby and the words turning up in the journal.

Harry: What part are you talking about?

Blaise: Your uncle, Harry. What was going on with that? Locked in your room? Never going back?

Harry: The Dursleys… They don't like magic. I told you the first day of school I didn't like the Muggles I live with, and I really don't. I was never told I was a wizard even though they both knew; they were hoping to force it out of me.

Theo: Force what out of you?

Tracey: And how?

Harry: The magic in me. They wanted it out. I wasn't lying when I said I was doing chores around the house; I was lying when I said I was going into town and on walks.

Blaise: And those times you "hung out" with your cousin?

Harry: He and his friends were chasing me around… Trying to catch me so that they could play an old game.

Daphne: The name of this game?

Harry: You don't want to know it, trust me.

Tracey: Harry, we're you're friends. We know that your life must have been hard, now that we've heard your uncle talk to you and call you a freak. He never even used your name! The thing is, without knowing all we can, we can't help you.

Harry: It was called… Harry… Hunting… *Closes eyes tightly*

Tracey: Oh, Harry…

Daphne: Trace, talk to your dad. Try and get him to do it tomorrow.

Harry: Do what?

Tracey: Bring you to my house. I've been talking to him about going to your home and dragging you over here. We've all been really worried. Now we know you can't stay there.

Harry: You would have really done that?

Theo: Any of us would, but Tracey's place is the best place for you to stay, so all of us have been talking to him whenever we're there. He's agreed to it, just hasn't wanted to go.

Harry: Thank you.

Daphne: It's no problem. Now, sleep. We'll try and get you out of there tomorrow.

Harry: Night, then.

Harry signed off properly this time, and hid his shrunken journal under his pillow before changing into some of Dudley's old pajamas, the only thing his aunt and uncle would let him wear as everything else was in his trunk under the stairs. He was fast asleep before his head even hit the pillow, his emotions having run wild that evening.

Tracey: My dad said he'll go first thing in the morning. He's even going to one-up it.

Blaise: How?

Tracey: Told me to keep it a secret. You'll know when Harry knows. Just trust me when I say you'll all love it, though no one will love it more than Harry. His life is about to change for the better.

…

Harry woke up the next morning to someone shaking him awake. He closed his eyes tighter and tried to roll over, but the person was obviously expecting it as the hand just held him in place. Groaning, he finally opened his eyes and blinked three times before sitting up to face Tracey, who was fully dressed and standing in his room at the Dursleys.

"Tracey?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yup," she replied with a soft smile. "My dad is downstairs, yelling at your uncle for the locks on your door, the cat flap, the mess of your room, the clothes you're wearing, and basically everything I told him about last night on top of anything else he can find. He's furious about what we're seeing here."

Harry looked down at his legs in embarrassment and shame until Tracey forced his head up so that he was looking at her in the eyes.

"Don't be ashamed of this, Harry. Your relatives are the ones who should be ashamed. You're sleeping in a tiny room full of broken junk that obviously belonged to your cousin as much as the clothes you're wearing. We don't even see your school stuff in here."

"It's locked up under the stairs," Harry muttered as he grabbed his glasses from his bedside table and stood up to go downstairs with Tracey.

When they got down there, they were met with a sight. The man standing just inside the door was obviously Tracey's father. Both had blue eyes and blond hair going on dirty-blond.

Her father was glaring at Harry's uncle, who was cowering in fear while his gaze was fixed on Mr. Davis' wand, which was pointed right at Uncle Vernon. It was obvious that Mr. Davis was done yelling at his uncle, but Harry was still cautious as he stepped off the final step of the stairs and stood waiting.

"Daddy," Tracey said as she stood next to Harry and got her father's attention, "Harry's up and says his school things are locked in that cupboard under the stairs there. Can we get them out so that he can change?"

"Of course, dear," her father replied as he waved his wand at the cupboard that had been Harry's home from the time he had been placed at the Dursleys as the age of one until he was eleven.

Harry quickly grabbed his truck, and with Tracey's help, brought it back upstairs. He was careful to stay just out of reach of his uncle, who had switched his gaze from the wand to Harry. None of the magic-users in the house were unaware of the glare burning into Harry's head like a bullet.

When the trunk was in his room, Harry opened it and was relieved to find that the charm that allowed only him to open the trunk that he had put on it had obviously worked as nothing was touched.

Tracey quickly went through his clothes and pulled out some muggle clothes as well as one of the black cloaks from his school uniform. Looking at her quickly, Harry realized that Tracey had on a cloak over her clothes, just as her father had, now that Harry though about it. He smiled at her in thanks before she went out into the hall to wait for him while he changed.

Once in his clothes that actually fit, he stuffed all the clothes that had once belonged to Dudley into the broken wardrobe in the room. Then, he grabbed his wand and put it in his pocket along with his journal, which he grabbed from under his pillow. The rest of the pencils, along with another ten boxes he had managed to find in his room and Dudley's while cleaning, were added to his trunk before he got Tracey again.

He lifted one side of his trunk with one hand while the other carried Hedwig, who was still padlocked in her cage and would have to be let out before too long. Tracey got the other end and, together, they both brought his stuff back downstairs. Mr. Davis unlocked Hedwig's cage so that Harry could let her out. He then shrunk both Harry's trunk and the cage for Harry to put in his pocket.

"You will never be seeing this boy again," he snarled at Uncle Vernon. "You and your wife are terrible guardians and should be ashamed of yourselves! You were asked to raise the boy like your own, I'm guessing, and instead it looks like you treated him like garbage! It's obvious he used to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, he wears castoffs of your own whale of a son, he does all the chores and most of the cooking, and he's barely fed!"

Harry gaped at Mr. Davis as he said these things. He flushed in shame when his cupboard was mentioned, and Tracey looked at him in shock and sorrow. If there was one part of his past he did not want getting out, it was that he had lived in that cupboard for ten years of his life. Embarrassment covered all of his features as he listened to his uncle getting told off.

"Come Tracey, Harry," Mr. Davis said as he turned to leave the house. "We've got other places to be and better people to be with."

Harry followed the two from Privet Drive, getting into the car that was sitting in the driveway with Tracey. Mr. Davis drove for a while before anything was said, and it was Harry who spoke, the things said before finally clicking in his mind.

"I don't ever have to go back?" Harry's voice was a mix of shock, hope, amazement, and disbelief.

"No, Harry, you don't," Tracey said from beside him. "Daddy is going to very quietly take the case of your guardianship to the Ministry, and try to make it so that my parents are your guardians instead of the Dursleys."

Harry stared at her, gob smacked. Then, his face slowly transformed to one of extreme happiness, joy, and amazement, as if he couldn't believe his ears. A smile slowly grew on his face until Tracey was seeing a smile on his face like none she had ever seen before; none of his smiles had that much happiness and joy behind them, nor had they ever been that large. It was like the idea of going back to the Dursleys had always been at the back of his mind and holding him back at least a little.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly, though both Tracey and her father heard him. Those two words showed all of the emotions he was feeling and meant more to both of them than anything else Harry could have done.

Almost forgot it was Sunday, truth be told. I'm blaming the 7 hour rehearsal for the American Sign Language show I had yesterday... Threw me off seeing as I was actually at school for it. Well, that and the fact that I've now written three chapters since the weekend started, including the longest one of the series so far.

Anyway, I hope those of you hoping for Harry's friends to figure out about the Dursleys liked this chapter.

Please review, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. :)

Posted: 12/12/10