It was his birthday and he was going to buy a present for himself. That was the first thought on Harry's mind when he woke up. He had been keeping track because he had been waiting for this day to buy himself a broom. Nothing too expensive of course, just a Cleansweep 7. He kicked off his blanket and got out of bed - it wasn't really a bed - it was just a mattress on the floor but it was a vast improvement from last summer. He climbed up the ladder and opened the lid of his trunk, stepping out onto the roof.
Taking in a deep breath of London air he grinned. He picked up his trunk and put on his invisibility cloak. Sneaking around had never been easier. Soon he arrived at a shabby pub called the Leaky Cauldron. Taking off his cloak before he got inside he greeted the bartender, "Hi Tom." Tom looked over the bar at him and nodded.
Harry sat down at one of the tables off to the side and went into his trunk to bring out The Standard Book of Spells Grade 2. As he was reading, a waiter brought his usual breakfast and surprisingly an owl. The barn owl looked quite dropped off its package and hooted at him. Harry just pet it and asked, "Well hello, who sent you?" He opened up the package, wondering who had sent it.
It was a handsome leather-covered book from Hagrid. Harry opened it expecting a book about dragons, specifically the Norwegian Ridgeback. Instead he saw that it was full of wizarding photos, smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother and father. Harry tried very hard not to cry and quickly closed it. He wrote back, Thank you Hagrid. He didn't know what else to write.
Carefully putting the book in his trunk he finished his breakfast and bought himself his second birthday present, a Cleansweep 7. He couldn't ride it around of course, that would have to wait until Hogwarts. He spent the rest of his morning on practicing the Engorgement Charm and the Shrinking Charm on a spoon that Tom had let him borrow.
Once he was starting to get hungry again he handed the spoon back. "Here Tom," he said. Tom accepted the spoon without a second look. Harry learned that as long as the spoon was in relatively the same size and shape he wouldn't care less.
He bought himself a burger and went to the library.
He said, "Hi Gloria."
"Hi Harry, how was your day?" she asked. Gloria was one of the librarians that worked at the public library that he had gotten familiar with over the years.
"Good." Harry smiled, it felt good to say that without lying.
"Here are your books from yesterday. Happy studying!" She said cheerfully. The staff had somehow extrapolated that he was a genius after he told them he went to a boarding school and urged him to use his time in the library to study. He agreed mostly to get them to stop bothering him and also because he couldn't tell them that he went to a boarding school for magic. It was much more boring though and Harry left to meet the older boys after about an hour.
"Hey guys." Harry said to the older boys.
"Hey Harry." Johnny replied. Niko was busy snogging his new girlfriend and Evans was kicking a trash bin over. Harry took a seat on the cold concrete and took out his deck of cards. He flipped them, shuffled them, and threw them around but quickly grew bored.
"Hey Johnny what do you guys learn in school?" Harry wondered.
"Just a bunch of shit you'll never use." Evans drawled.
Johnny laughed. "Yeah, you think people are gonna care if you can find the derivative or whatever when you're looking for a job?"
"I don't know, what's a derivative?" Harry asked.
"It's a mathematics thing," Johnny waved his question off, "Look, Harry what's important is that you find what you enjoy doing."
"Like music?" Harry nodded at his guitar.
"Yeah, like music. You know, I bet there's a school for magic." Johnny said. If only he knew. Harry just leaned back and thought to himself, "What I enjoy doing…" He enjoyed magic, flying, and he enjoyed feeling smarter than others, perhaps as a side effect of practicing magic tricks so much. Did he enjoy talking with the older boys? He looked around slowly. It was cold, dilapidated, out of the way, and the only reason he was here was because Niko had seen him do a trick once and wanted to show the others. He hadn't missed them at all when he was at Hogwarts.
Having come to a decision, he leapt up to his feet. "I'll see later guys, gotta go home early." His statement was met with a chorus of nods, grunts, and the odd guitar strum. He went to the library and informed Gloria that he wouldn't be able to come back because his parents were moving away. After a heartfelt goodbye, he ate dinner in the Leaky Cauldron and went to sleep in his trunk.
Neville Longbottom's birthday had passed with the usual celebrations. His mother had invited a few people including Susan, who had been annoyed with him for ignoring her letters which had confused him. He had received a few gifts and the day passed happily without incident. It was the day after that had caused a ruckus.
He opened the door to his room to find a house elf standing there waiting for him.
"Neville Longbottom!" the house elf cried, "Such an honor to meet you it is!"
"Thanks." Neville had said just looking at the strange house elf.
"Dobby has come to warn you sir… Dobby wonders where to begin…" At this point Neville was considering yelling out for his mother when Dobby said, "Dobby has come to tell you sir! Neville Longbottom must not go back to Hogwarts!"
Neville blinked at Dobby. Not go to Hogwarts? The idea was unthinkable. What was he supposed to do then, just spend his days here doing nothing like it was always summertime?
"I can't not go to Hogwarts." Neville said. It might not have seemed like such a bad idea at the beginning of the summer but now he realized how much he missed being at school.
"No, no, no, there is a plot sir! A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts this year." Dobby whispered. "Neville Longbottom must not put himself at peril. He is too important, he must stay home!
Neville's heart raced and his mind immediately remembered his encounter with Quirrell. "Dobby, this terrible plot wouldn't have anything to do with You-Know-Who would it?" he asked. Dobby just shook his head.
"Not - not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named sir." Dobby's eyes widened to the size of saucers and Neville released a sigh of relief.
"I don't suppose you can tell me who your master is or what the plot is?" Neville asked hopefully. Dobby shook his head again.
Neville asked, "Is it one of his death eaters?"
"Dobby cannot say… Dobby cannot say… All he can say is that - that - the plot is by a very bad - !" Dobby froze for a moment as if realizing what he just said. Then, without warning he started banging his head frantically against the nearby wall. "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" he screamed.
"Stop - What are you doing?" Neville yelled and seized Dobby, pulling him away from the wall.
"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir…" Neville stared at the elf who was nursing a rapidly forming bruise on the top of his head. He knew house elves had to obey the orders of their master so this meant that someone had ordered Dobby to hurt himself if he spoke badly about them.
Determined now, to help Dobby, he stood up and took Dobby by the arm. "Come with me Dobby, let's talk to my mum she can help you."
To his surprise the house elf burst into tears and cried, "H - Help!? Never - Never has a wizard offered to help - Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but never of your goodness, Dobby never knew…"
Feeling distinctly uncomfortable Neville said, "Alright well let's talk to my mum now. She'll know what to do."
"No, no, no," Dobby squeaked, "Dobby must not be speaking… Dobby will have to punish himself already most grievously for coming to see you… Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this... If they ever knew sir - "
Neville stopped and let go of Dobby's arm to say, "Okay then, I won't take you to my mum but if there's a plot at Hogwarts surely Dumbledore will stop it."
Dobby bowed his head. "Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength. But, sir" Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper, "There are powers Dumbledore doesn't… powers no decent wizard…"
Before Neville could react, Dobby ran to the wall again and started headbutting it with ear splitting yelps. Neville grabbed him again and waited until the house elf had settled down.
"Neville…? What was that?" Someone called.
"Nothing!" Neville called back.
"Listen, even if I don't go back to Hogwarts, what about the other students? My friends? I have to go back." Neville said.
"Friends who don't even write to Neville Longbottom?" said Dobby slyly.
"They're just having a busy summer - wait how do you know that?"said Neville.
"Neville Longbottom mustn't be angry with Dobby, Dobby did it for the best - " Dobby shuffled his feet nervously.
"Have you been stopping my letters?" Neville stared at Dobby. He hadn't even known house elves could do that.
"Dobby has them here sir." he said and he pulled a wad of letters out. Neville could see Hermione's neat handwriting, Ron's untidy scrawl, and Susan's swirly lines. Neville's heart gave a start and he realized just how much he missed them.
Dobby blinked anxiously at Neville. "Neville Longbottom mustn't be angry... Dobby hoped if Neville Longbottom thought that his friends had forgotten him he might not want to go back to school."
"Give those back Dobby." he said, trying to contain the anger in his voice.
"Dobby will give them back sir, but only if Neville Longbottom gives his word that he will not go back to Hogwarts!" Dobby said.
"Dobby just - " Neville lunged for the letters but Dobby dodged nimbly out of his reach. "Just, give them back!"
"No! Neville Longbottom must first give his word that - " Dobby and Neville both stopped as they heard footsteps approaching. With a crack, Dobby vanished - taking the letters with him.
Amelia Bones opened the door to her son's room with the type of movement that implied she was expecting to find something he wasn't supposed to have. Her eyes raked over the room and finding nothing she turned them to Neville, who smiled nervously.
"What was that?" she asked suspiciously.
Neville gulped. He never managed to hide anything from his mother, experience told him it was best to come clean.
About an hour later Amelia sank back into her office chair with a grim visage. First, she had been told that You-Know-Who was alive as some sort of half-ghost and he possessed a teacher to try and kill her foster son, now she was being told that a death eater had let loose some sort of plot at Hogwarts. Worst of all, there was no evidence to back up any of these claims. She couldn't do anything but wait. However, at the first sign of something going wrong at Hogwarts, she would use it as an excuse to acquire more funding for her department and bring the full wrath of the Aurors upon whichever fool who dared to harm her son.