Author's Notes:

Redoing this fic after a lot of edits and going over my outline.

I'd like to thank the wonderful folks over at DLP (Halt, Blor, Taure, TMD, Niez, Thejabber and Vira) for giving me critical feedback with my first chapter and summary. It would be (and was!) a much poorer story without them.

Weirdhunterangel, elohiniar, vivithefolle, hunting-ataraxia, peetamaellark, hillnerd and ibelieveinsherlockholmes221b on Tumblr were also essential, giving feedback on character interactions and behaviour of seven to eleven-year-olds.

Chapter 1: Return to Privet Drive

Holly Potter ran under the big oak tree by the edge of the St Grogory's Primary School grounds, buried her head into her knees, and cried. Her cousin, Dudley, ruined everything. He pushed her around, made fun of her clothes, took her food and even stole the snacks Aunt Petunia would give her once in a while if she didn't do anything "freakish". He always had to spoil her day.

It was the first day of year three and two new girls, Angela and Corey, wanted to play with her during break. Being new, they had no idea of her reputation. Holly agreed. They were having so much fun before Dudley and his friends scared them off.

She sniffed, rubbing her green eyes. This wasn't the first time Dudley had done this. Last year it was Emily. Two years ago it was Ava. Neither of them would talk to her anymore. The rest of their yearmates did, too. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

Laughter came from across the courtyard.

Dudley kicked a ball high into the air and one of his friends caught it. The boys laughed again. She clenched her fists. All she wanted was a friend, someone to play with and talk to. Even Dudley, Piers Polkiss, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon had each other, and nobody liked them.

Nobody likes you either.

As Dudley drew his foot back again to kick, the ball split wide open. He went down with a startled yelp. Holly looked away. She'd done something 'freakish' again. She didn't know how. Whenever she got really angry, something odd would happen and she'd get in big trouble with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Her stomach hurt when she saw the break monitors checking over a tearful Dudley. What if they found out she did it?

"Are you okay?"

To her right there was a boy with red hair. He was dressed nicely, if a bit plain, and around her height. His tawny brown eyes looked at her the same way Dudley looked at new food; curious.

Did he know it was my fault? "Yes," she said shortly. If she was rude, maybe he'd go away.

The boy kicked a nearby stone across the grass. "Are you sure?"

Holly glared at the boy. "Who asked you?" He was probably going to make fun of her. Dennis did it all the time so Dudley would laugh at her.

"Well, nobody. You just looked sad." Then he sat down next to her.

"I'm not sad!" She turned away, wiping her tear-stained cheeks. "Why don't you just leave me alone!"

The boy frowned. "Fine." He brushed shed grass from his trousers as he stood. "I hope you feel better."

Once he left, she looked back at Dudley. He was holding up a piece of the ruined ball. A bunch of their yearmates surrounded him as he puffed out his chest and raised the ruined piece of rubber, like it was a big prize.

Her face soured. Now even more people liked Dudley!

~•~

"We probably won't be able to sell everything we want," said Alex, opening the self-organizing notebook she'd gotten him for Christmas to look at his research. "At least not right away. Dad said there's too many tests to go through and they all cost a lot of money. We have to pick three or four potions that we can work on until we have enough money to test more."

Holly took out her hand-written notes. Since returning from Hogwarts, she and Alex had spent most of their time researching what they would need to do to sell potions. "Here's what I should be able to brew. I added the one from Easter too."

"I don't think antidotes for poisons will work. It's too exotic. I mean, how will we explain unicorn horns? And they'd have to drink it."

"Rhea drank it and she was fine."

"Yeah well..." Alex looked uncomfortable. "Rhea's different."

That's putting it lightly. She rolled her eyes. "Okay, so no poison antidotes."

"Or anything that needs to be ingested. That would make it medicine and it would take years for them to go through."

"Okay."

He looked through her notes, going through her list with a pen. "Boil cure should be okay, along with dittany. Muggles have similar stuff and they know about the plant, so there shouldn't be any problems. Murtlap Essence?" he suggested.

"It comes from a magical sea beast, remember? That'd be a bit hard to explain."

"How about burn-healing paste?"

"Yeah that should be fine."

Alex subsequently checked off three potions. "That should be it for now."

"Will horned slugs be okay to use?" she asked as she took her paper back. "I mean, Muggles would know about porcupine quills, but horned slugs are magical. Won't they be suspicious?"

"Nah, they exist in the non-magical world. Dad's taking care of it, don't worry."

Holly frowned at his cavalier attitude. "Alright."

"Besides, they only have restrictions on the really dangerous plant and animal products, so we should be okay. I'll give these to dad so he can look them over."

Holly wondered how Mr Kann would get away with it. It would probably be alright now, but it wouldn't if they were going to sell more potions. They already couldn't sell Murtlap because it was too magical.

She hoped they knew what they were doing. While it was legal to give Muggle and Squib relatives who knew about magic potions, it was fairly frowned upon, so there wasn't a lot of research on effects done on that end. Selling them would be even harder. The people that would check out their business wouldn't know about magic, and it would be pretty suspicious if she was the only one who could make it work. The only good thing was that the Ministry of Magic didn't seem to be able to monitor potion-making, or else they all would have been in big trouble during Easter.

"Well, alright," said Holly.

"Now, about how much all these will cost to make..."

The Dursleys seemed slightly less unpleasant after she returned. Whether that was because she was pleased with the business progress—Mr Kann had approved of their potion choices— or because she was spending most of her time away from Privet Drive, her relatives being in a good mood as well or some combination of the three, she didn't know nor wanted to. When she had returned home on the last day of term, Vernon had locked her books, wand, robes, and broomstick in the cupboard under the stairs. With Petunia and Dudley watching with malicious glee he insisted that Privet Drive would be 'magic-free' for the duration of the summer.

Not that that stopped her from magically breaking in.

Towards the end of July, the Kanns began preparing for their annual mysterious summer holiday. At this point in their friendship, Alex knew better than to brag and she knew better than to ask. Evidently, the twins had been told to keep mum about it as well; they stayed in their room and avoided looking at her, as if the secret would come spilling out if she locked eyes with either of them. The cool reception still bothered her a bit, but it was miles better than the frantic cleaning going on at the Dursleys.

"Snake fangs ready?" she asked. The potion they were brewing bubbled on top of the portable gas stove, like a big pot of stew. The kitchen had become their brewing station; all over the counter, textbooks, notebooks, cutting boards, vials, knives and potion ingredients, Muggle and magical could be found.

Alex twisted the pestle. "Almost..."

"You're grinding it too fine. I need coarse powder, not dust," said Holly in exasperation. He was taking the ingredient prep rather seriously. Probably to avoid another kitchen disaster - it took weeks to clean the ceiling after the last one.

"Alright, alright," he said, passing her the mortar and pestle. The doorbell rang and he made his leave.

She added the crushed fangs to the simmering mixture. Increasing the heat, Holly let the potion boil for ten seconds before waving her hand over it and setting a forty-five-minute that settled, she entered the second sitting room. "Takeaway arrived," muttered Alex. He pushed a bag towards her.

After they went over the Muggle tests the potions would have to undergo, the conversation turned to her wizard friends.

"I have no clue what's happened. Neither's written back to me."

"Hasn't Hermione called you, at least?"

"I didn't give her my number."

"Call her, then."

"Looking it up her landline would take ages. Granger is a common name, you know." She sighed, pushing her bowl away. "I guess I'll just send her and Ron another letter. It's not like I have any other friends."

Alex shook his head. "I still can't believe you aren't more popular."

"Yeah, well, first impressions and all that," she said, remembering her performance in Charms and Transfiguration for the first couple of months.

Worse than the disappointment from Professor McGonagall and Flitwick-who taught her prodigious parents-was the sceptical looks from her classmates. They looked at her as if she couldn't really be the Girl-Who-Lived if she botched so many spells.

"At least I don't have to worry about people wondering where I'm sneaking off to."

He nodded. "So you don't want to be popular?"

"Not really." Even when she was younger, she never felt the need to have several friends. Quality over quantity was her belief. "Why, do you?"

Alex shrugged. "It makes things easier, I guess."

"Speaking from experience?"

He shrugged again and took out a floss-pick, effectively ending the conversation.

Holly drummed her fingers on the wooden table. She pointed a finger at her empty bowl and concentrated. The downside to going from verbal and wanded magic to non-verbal and wandless was that it reduced the potency of the spell, and she had to put in a lot more effort to get the same result. The bowl finally rose.

The most peculiar thing was that magic seemed to work better in certain places than others. At Hogwarts she didn't have to put as much effort into the handful of spells she knew before first year, while at Privet Drive it was a lot harder.

Hermione's always talking about "magic in the air" around Hogwarts, she thought, setting down the bowl. Maybe that's it. But why?

"I freaking hate these," Alex muttered once he finished cleaning.

"There's no potion to even out teeth?"

"I read about one that repairs cavities, but that's it. Anything more advanced requires a wand." Eyes brightening at the idea, Alex grabbed his pen and notebook. His wide grin revealed his braced teeth and he immediately started writing rapidly. "Cavity-repairing potions can be our next big project."

Holly smiled too. It was nice to see him excited rather than serious. "Well, how about you then?"

"Preparing. I don't know for sure when we're going to leave. Dad never tells me. But it's probably going to be within a few days."

Her smile disappeared. "You'll be gone for weeks, won't you?" She knew it was coming. It happened every summer - the dreaded Kann family holiday. But even so, she didn't even want to think that her only human interactions would be with her relatives. Especially since Ron and Hermione weren't writing back.

"We might have a shorter trip this year, because of the business," admitted Alex. "I'll see if I can convince dad to let me talk to you."

"Alright." It was better than the usual radio silence.

Thankfully, the timer went off and they headed back to the kitchen to clean up and complete the potion.

"That makes one cauldron's worth of boil-cure!" said Holly as she sealed the last Kilner jar. "That wasn't so bad, now, was it?"

Alex upturned the dustpan into the rubbish bin at the end of the counter. "I suppose not. I still hate cooking though."

"Yeah, only 'cause you're rubbish at it."

He rolled his eyes as he put the jars away. "I'll save a couple of these for dad."

"Might as well hold on to most of them, you know how Privet Drive is," she said, closing her potions textbook. "Now, you promised you'd help me with this magical makeup Lavender and Parvati gave me?"

As Vernon's dinner meeting drew closer, Holly had little choice but to deal with the rehearsals Vernon and Petunia insisted on doing every mealtime. She had also sent two more letters each to Ron and Hermione, but they still hadn't responded. By the time her birthday came, she was frustrated.

I knew I should have at least gotten Hermione's number, she thought, slumping down on the garden bench that morning. "Happy bloody birthday to me."

The Kanns had gotten her gifts, of course. Potion vials, thermometers, notebooks and headphones, various Wizarding and Muggle sweets, and of course, the dreaded puberty-related items that embarrassed her to think about. They were nice and all, but she'd rather spend time with people who cared about her. She stared miserably into the hedge to find two big green eyes staring back.

"What the hell?" she muttered, trying to think of a spell, or anything that would drive back whatever the thing was.

"I know what day it is," sang Dudley, waddling towards her.

The huge eyes blinked and vanished.

She continued to stare into the hedge, not paying her cousin any mind. "What?"

"I know what day it is," repeated Dudley.

"Oh darn." She snapped her fingers in mock disappointment. "I seem to have lost the bet."

"What bet?"

"That you hadn't learned the days of the week by now. Alex said you did. Now I'm out five quid."

Dudley sputtered. In anger or bemusement, she wasn't sure. "You still talk to him?"

"Of course. He says hi, by the way," she said, giving him a faux-sweet smile. Alex despised Dudley and his mates even more than she did, and he knew it.

"W-well, today's your birthday," said Dudley.

Amused, Holly nodded sagely. "You seem to have a firm grasp of the obvious."

"Your freak friends didn't send you anything?" he sneered.

"They will," said Holly coolly.

Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom. He looked at her with a furrowed brow. "Why're you staring at the hedge?"

"I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire."

Dudley stumbled backwards at once, a look of panic on his fat face. "You c-can't—Dad told you you're not to do m-magic—he locked up that stick of yours, and your only normal friend is on holiday—he said he'll chuck you out of the house—"

"Oh?" she said, wiggling her fingers and whispering under her breath. A rotted weed rose in front of Dudley's face. "You mean like this?"

"MUUUUUUM!" howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed towards the house. "MUM! She's doing you know what!"

After nearly ten hours, Holly was finally allowed back inside. It was a long day of weeding, mowing, painting, washing and cleaning, and she could feel a slight sunburn forming on the back of her neck. She was given a very light supper—slices of plain bread with a teaspoon of revolting processed cheese spread—which she wolfed down before being sent upstairs. There was just enough time for her to take a shower before being ordered once more to 'make no noise and pretend she wasn't there'.

She Quietened her room and locked the door. The bedroom had been sparsely used until the Kanns had left; now it had been Charmed and Transfigured to the best of her abilities. Wincing at her sore neck, she carefully applied the Burn-Healing paste on the sunburn and waited.

Sixty-eight seconds, she noted when the pain faded. Better write that down. Holly went into her wardrobe to retrieve a book when she noticed something - or rather, someone - there.

"What the—!" Holly pointed her finger at the door.

"Dobby is sorry for startling you, Miss," said the creature.

She took in its appearance as it stepped into the open. "You're a house-elf aren't you?" she asked, remembering one of the few stories that Mrs Kann told of her childhood.

It nodded and she lowered her arm.

"Er—I don't want to be rude or anything, but this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom."

Aunt Petunia's high, false laugh sounded from the living room. The elf hung his head.

"Not that I'm not pleased to meet you," said Holly quickly, "but, er, is there any particular reason you're here?"

"Oh, yes, Miss," it said. "Dobby has come to tell you, Miss ... it is difficult, Miss ... Dobby wonders where to begin ..."

"Sit down," said Holly politely, pointing at the bed.

To her horror, the elf burst into tears—very noisy tears.

"S-sit down!" he wailed. "Never ... never ever ..."

Holly thought she heard the voices downstairs become quiet. Were her spells not working?

"I'm sorry," she whispered, relaxing slightly when the conversation returned to normal. "Did you want to stand?"

"Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a witch! Like an equal—"

Holly, trying to say "Shh!" and look comforting at the same time, ushered Dobby back onto the bed where he sat hiccoughing, looking like a large and very ugly doll. At last he managed to control himself, and sat with his great eyes fixed on her in an expression of watery adoration.

She resisted cringing. Mrs Kann had said house-elves were usually treated like pets. She felt sorry for the poor thing. "So, ah, what did you need?"

"Young Miss is very kind indeed, very kind indeed," Dobby sniffled. "Holly Potter Miss is too kind, too important to risk the danger that awaits at Hogwarts."

Her stomach dropped. "What are you saying?"

"Dobby has come to protect Holly Potter, to warn her, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later...Holly Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."

There was a silence broken only by the chink of knives and forks from downstairs and the distant rumble of Uncle Vernon's voice.

Holly let out a weak chuckle. "W-what? I have to go back. Term starts in a month and I need to be there." Magic was her heritage.

"No, no, no," squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. The odd elf then told her of some plot to bring 'terrible things' to Hogwarts, and that for her safety, she should remain at Privet Drive. She personally thought it was a load of tosh, and said so.

"Dumbledore's at Hogwarts, and he'll protect us from any plot," she said confidently. "I'm going back. I'm a witch, it's where I belong."

Dobby frantically shook his head. "Dumbledore is the greatest Headmaster Dobby's heard of, but Dobby knows...Dobby has seen..." And before she could stop him, Dobby launched off the bed and towards her desk, knocking over her birthday gifts as he hit himself with her desk lamp, releasing ear-splitting yelps.

"Spongify!" she cried.

Dobby stared at her, now holding the spongy lamp. He blinked. Then he wailed.

"Oh, don't cry," she said, cringing and staring at the door. The conversation downstairs continued, thankfully, and she reached over to take the Softened lamp from the elf. "Please don't cry."

"Dobby has heard of Holly Potter's kindness, but Dobby has never heard of her power." He looked at her in awe. "Dobby has never seen any wizard perform wandless magic."

"Um, thank you, Dobby. But I'm still going back to Hogwarts. I want to play Quidditch and learn more about potions and see my friends."

The elf's expression turned sly. "Friends who don't even write to Holly Potter?"

Holly stared at Dobby blankly before it clicked. The elf had been taking all her letters. "What the hell?"

Dobby took them out of his pillowcase and explained that if she thought that Ron and Hermione had forgotten her, she'd be willing to stay at Privet Drive. That was certainly not that case, and she told him so.

"Hand them over," she said through gritted teeth.

"Holly Potter will have them, Miss, if she gives Dobby her word that she will not return to Hogwarts. Say you won't go back, Miss!"

"I—" she began, then stopped. Dobby had managed to stop all her letters to and from Ron and Hermione over the last four weeks, find out where she was living and entered her room.

She strained her ears to listen downstairs.

The dinner seemed to be going well, not that she cared. But if Dobby got it into his head to ruin it, she'd be blamed. And if the Dursleys were unhappy, she'd be unhappy. That was a certainty.

Holly let out a deep breath. It pained her to say it, but she had no choice.

"Alright. I won't go back."

~•~

Unlike Dudley, Holly liked school. She didn't have to do as many chores and the teachers would stop Dudley and his friends from bothering her too much. Sometimes. During the summer her Aunt and Uncle let Dudley do whatever he wanted and she couldn't do anything about it.

She entered Ms Michaels' classroom and sat in the back. All the teachers let her since nobody wanted to sit next to her. Her backpack – one of Dudley's old ones, a dingy dark blue - went on the seat to her left after she took out her homework.

"Good morning."

Holly looked up from her paper. It was the same boy from yesterday at break. "What are you doing here?"

The boy put his bag on the desk to her right and sat. "Sitting." He smiled. "What's your name?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

"'Cause I want to be friends."

Friends? This had to be a trick. No one wanted to be her friend. Not with Dudley around. "No."

"But you don't have any," the boy said, confused. "I've noticed, you know."

She ignored the pang in her chest. He didn't need to say what she already knew. "I don't need any. Go away."

The boy's cheerful expression fell. "Okay." He took his bag and went to the next closest seat.

Holly put her foot up on the desk's metal bar. The boy didn't want to be her friend. He was probably faking. Dennis did the same thing last year. He told her that he and Dudley weren't friends anymore and that he was sorry for teasing her. She was so happy that she told him about her scar and even how she didn't get any gifts, ever. Then a few days later he told everyone about the scar on her forehead that she hated and that her Aunt and Uncle didn't get her anything for Christmas. Everybody teased her about it for the rest of the year.

But this boy didn't seem like the sort to trick her. Could he be telling the truth?

Holly shook her head. No. She wasn't going to fall for that again. He'd leave her alone soon enough.