Harry and Dudley found themselves back in the playground the following day, on a bench in the far corner, a little secluded by the hedges growing around it. The stray dog they had met the day before showed up as well, as if he had been expecting them. Harry supposed it was because he was missing his original owners that he seemed to get attached to him so easily.
As always the braver of the two cousins, Harry had approached the dog after he had rescued them, feeling sorry for the stray. He reminded him of Fang, Hagrid's gentle-natured pet who had frightened him in the beginning as well. The stray had looked up at him with such pitiful eyes that Harry had found the courage to extend his hand very carefully to pet the dog's head. The animal had dissolved into even more pitiful whining, to Harry's surprise. But that had only caused him to try to comfort the dog more, especially as he became aware that under the shaggy black fur, there was only skin and bones.
After Harry had told him this, Dudley had sacrificed one of the sandwiches his mother had given him to take along, to feed the dog, in an unprecedented act of kindness. No more had been needed for the animal to try to stick as close to them as they allowed.
That afternoon, Harry had his books spread around him, together with a pen and a notebook. The strange-looking books drew enough attention without the convenience of magical wards, and he did not want to make matters worse by using quill and parchment.
He and Dudley had opened the cupboard under the stairs the night before. Harry had taken all the books he would need to do his summer homework, as well as his wand, even though he was not allowed to use it. But just having it with him did wonders for his peace of mind.
He had also taken the small bag of sweets he had remembered to buy on the train for Dudley and had handed them over, saying, "They're supposed to be for your birthday. If you can make them last that long."
After that, they had locked the cupboard and Dudley had returned the keys to their place. Harry did not expect he would be seeing any of his possessions until the end of the holidays – except for his books, which Dudley hid with his other few bits and pieces from the magical world that Harry had sent him over the year. He had packed them in his backpack and taken them with him when meeting Harry in the playground. He could tell his parents he was off to do homework with his friends and they bought it. Harry, of course, could not leave the house with any sort of bag. His aunt and uncle would not let him leave with it without checking what it contained.
Harry once again wished he could do his summer homework at home, in the peace and quiet of his room, but he felt it was too much of a risk. His aunt or uncle might poke their head in and all his careful work would be for naught. He sighed, resolved to be thankful for what he could manage with Dudley's help, and went back to reading his transfigurations notes. If only McGonagall were not so fond of formulas.
"I saw Dennis this morning," Dudley said out of the blue.
Harry made a humming sound, not letting the comment interrupt his concentration.
"He said he was sorry for yesterday. He said, Malcolm said, maybe they shouldn't have listened to Piers. He-"
The dog growled, then barked, interrupting Dudley. Harry put his hand on his furry black head, to calm him.
"That's great, Dudders."
"It is? And how many times do I have to tell you-"
"Yeah, sorry, Dudley." Harry finally looked up from his notes. "I do think it's good news. Maybe, if you pretend yesterday never happened, they'll even come to your birthday party tomorrow."
His cousin looked astonished. "But you never liked them."
Harry rolled his eyes. "So what? That never bothered you before."
Dudley shifted uncomfortably.
"Really, it's fine. They're your friends. They don't have to like me."
"I do want them to come to my party," Dudley said wistfully.
That was really the deciding point. Dudley would have stayed mad at his friends indefinitely after their attack in the playground, had his birthday not been around the corner. As soon as his parents began making plans for the celebration, which as usual was meant to include his friends, he became aware that if he did not make up with at least some of them, he would not have any guests. That seemed too horrible a thought so shortly after meeting Harry's friends.
Dudley remembered only too well that previously, it had always been the other way around. He might have made giant steps in self-improvement, but it was too much to ask for not to envy his cousin.
"I'll be out of your way," said Harry. "I would have to, anyway," he rolled his eyes, "but I'll make extra sure to stay in the background, so they'll forget whatever Piers told them."
"Doesn't that bother you?" Dudley asked with a frown.
"Nope," Harry replied cheerfully. The dog snuffled and tried to lick his hand. "Ew, no. Bad dog. Why would it bother me?" he turned back to his cousin. "It'll look very suspicious if you suddenly lose all your friends, just a couple of days after I returned. And that would not end well for me. So there. I'm all for you keeping your friends." The dog's snuffling intensified, before developing into a whine. He again tried to lick Harry's hands.
"I think he's adopted you," said Dudley.
"Yeah, looks like it. I wish I could explain to him that there's no way I can adopt him. Can you imagine what Aunt Petunia would say if I tried?"
Both boys shuddered at the thought.
"Well, at least you could name him. Maybe he'd listen to you better that way. Don't animals obey magical folks better?"
"Some of them do," Harry answered sceptically. Then he drew his brows together and regarded the dog in front of him thoughtfully. "Now, what would be a good name for you?" The dog barked excitedly, then snuffled again.
"How about... Blackie?" suggested Dudley. The dog snuffled and covered his muzzle with his paws.
"Nah, that's far too mild for this overgrown beastie."
"Fang, then? He does have rather large teeth..."
"Uh, no. Hagrid's dog is called Fang, remember?"
"Well, they do look a bit alike."
"But Hagrid's dog is a coward. And not nearly as large or as scary-looking," Harry added thoughtfully. The dog snuffled again.
"So you want to give him a really scary name? Like Monster, or Black Knight, or-"
"Or maybe a really cutesy one, like Hagrid did. He called that three-headed monstrosity of his Fluffy."
"Fluffy?"
"Yep. So... How about Snuffles?" The dog answered by barking excitedly.
"I think he likes that," agreed Dudley. The newly named Snuffles did his name justice by snuffling once again.
The name stuck.
Dudley found it was not particularly difficult to reconcile with his friends. Most of them were only too willing to get back in Dudley's good graces. He had always been the leader and the group fell apart without him. Piers, on the other hand, had only been listened to because he had been Dudley's oldest friend. So the decision was easy. If Piers and Dudley fought, it was only a matter of time before the group picked Dudley's side.
The birthday party the next day was very similar to the ones Harry had witnessed before he went to Hogwarts. Dudley's parents turned a blind eye on their son's friends' rowdy behaviour and forced Harry to stay as much in the background as possible. That last part was particularly easy this time, as it had been Harry's own idea to do just that.
The days fell into a tolerable rhythm. Harry spent as much time away from Number 4, Privet Drive, as he could get away with. While Dudley was spending time with some of his friends from the neighbourhood, he had Snuffles for company, who guaranteed that no one unwanted dared to approach him, much less bully him.
Not that Dudley would have stood for one of his friends trying to bully Harry. In fact, he found himself arguing more and more with them for their wild behaviour. When they shouted rude words at Mrs. Figg walking her cats, he turned around so she would not see him. He would cross the street when he saw potential victims coming their way, forcing his friends to follow him. He turned a deaf ear to their complaints about Harry and his dog keeping them from the playground – which used to be their favourite victim haunt. They, in turn, rolled their eyes and teased him, calling him a 'softie'. All in all, his friendships were not what they used to be.
Soon enough, Dudley noticed that he enjoyed spending time with Harry a lot more, especially if Snuffles was around. At least every other day, he brought his cousin's school supplies to the playground so Harry could do his homework. Dudley had to admit, though, that sitting by and watching someone else work could get boring after a while.
Dudley leafed through a thick, leather-bound volume one morning, while Harry was furiously writing in his notebook.
"What's with all the diagrams and formulas?" he asked.
"Hmm?" Harry went on writing without looking up.
"It's just strange. What do you need all this for? You have a wand, you wave it around-" He demonstrated with his arm.
Harry frowned at the paper in front of him, then crossed something out. His eyes finally lifted from the notebook, darting around, as if looking for something. He extended his hand towards the book. "Can I have that back? I need to look something up."
Dudley handed it over, beginning to feel bored. He considered playing fetch with Snuffles again and looked around for some sticks.
"It's not that simple," Harry said before he could decide to pick one up. "Magic, I mean. You first have to understand how everything works."
"That doesn't sound like a lot of fun."
"No? Smeltings didn't change your mind about learning, then?"
Even Dudley could pick out the sarcasm in Harry's voice. He frowned. "Maybe it did," he said, mostly to contradict his cousin.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "No offence, Dudders, but have you done any of your homework yet?"
"Will you stop-" He sighed. "No, I haven't. And I'm so bored right now, I might even have tried to, but I forgot to write down what I have to do."
"Couldn't you ask someone?"
"Who? Piers is the only one who also goes to Smeltings, and I'm still not talking to him."
"What about the people you met at Smeltings?" Harry's face scrunched up oddly for a moment, but he shook off whatever emotion had come over him. "You mentioned your dorm-mate. Artie, was it?"
Dudley was about to dismiss the suggestion, but the idea did not sound as horrible as he would have thought. "Yeah, maybe. He did give me his phone number – after a lot of mumbling and stuttering."
Dudley's parents were ecstatic when he told them he wanted to call a 'friend' from school. They certainly had noticed that Piers had been absent from their son's birthday party and that he had not visited even once since the beginning of summer. Of course they would be worried about Dudley's break with the only friend he had at Smeltings. So when he called Artie to ask about summer homework, they insisted on inviting the boy they had never met before to their house. Dudley would have argued, but did not want to raise his parents' suspicions even more. And Artie had sounded so happy at the unexpected invitation.
Harry cautioned that Artie, who had noticed Dudley's letter exchange when no one else had, might realise there was something odd about Harry. The cousins discussed in detail what to tell the muggle boy and how to explain why Harry was treated the way he was without mentioning magic.
They were still arguing about some of the details when the day of Artie's visit arrived. His parents, quiet and meek-looking like their son, brought him one Saturday morning and stayed for an early lunch to reassure themselves that Dudley's family was more or less trustworthy. They were hardly the sorts of people who appealed to Uncle Vernon, but Aunt Petunia at least would not be deterred from gossiping about everyone related to Smeltings that Artie's parents might have heard of. They left soon enough, promising to pick their son up again the next day.
Harry only turned up briefly to greet the guests and then slunk back to his room, but not before noticing Artie's astonished looks as soon as he was introduced. He heard his aunt and uncle describe him as their unfortunately delinquent poor relation, before he had even gone out of earshot, but he doubted that would be enough to quell Artie's curiosity.
"Is that the cousin you were writing letters to?" Artie asked Dudley as soon as his parents had left.
Dudley looked around in panic, to make sure his parents were not nearby. "You promised not to talk about that!" he hissed as loudly as he dared.
Artie frowned. "But... I didn't say anything in front of my parents... And of course your parents would know. How else would you-"
"No, they don't! How was that not obvious? So will you stop talking about it?"
"But if he lives here—"
"Oh!" Dudley raised his voice as soon as he saw his mother approaching. "Oh, we were going to do some homework now, weren't we?" He sounded very much like his former self, the threat in his voice not the least bit subtle.
"Yes..?"
"Oh, Dudley, dear, what a studious boy you are!" said his mother. "But wouldn't you like a little snack to take to your room? I've made some lovely little sandwiches for the two of you—"
"Won't Harry be joining us?" asked Artie.
Petunia's face froze in an expression of utter distaste. "Oh, no, no. You won't need to spend any time with that – that boy. You and Dudley won't be disturbed while you have fun and study—"
"Well, he can't study with us, he doesn't go to Smeltings, of course-"
"Well, there you go," interrupted Dudley, wishing to end that topic. "Let's pick up those sandwiches and—"
"But what school does he go to?"
This was followed by an awkward silence from both mother and son.
"Ah, well, I'm afraid he goes to St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. So now you must see why it would be better if you stayed away from him. I'm so sorry that you have to share the house with him, but I promise you, he won't bother you," she said in her most reassuring voice.
Before Artie could respond, or Dudley could think of the quickest way to get him to stop asking questions, Harry stepped into the living room, looking very casual with his hands in his pockets, as if he did not just hear what had been said about him – or did not care.
"I'm going out," he said. "I'll be back before dinner." He then turned around and walked back out of the room. Soon afterwards, they heard the front door open and shut.
"Well, come on, then," said Dudley and almost dragged Artie up the stairs to his room.
As soon as he had locked the door, he began packing his backpack – with his own books, this time.
"What are you doing?" asked Artie.
"You want to know about Harry?" Dudley almost whispered, then went on packing without looking up to see Artie nod. "I'll tell you about him – but not here. Bring your school stuff, will you?"
They went down again a few minutes later. Dudley told his mother they were going to the playground and she packed their sandwiches for them to take along. A few minutes later, they saw Harry playing fetch with Snuffles, laughing and looking carefree.
"What did he do?" Artie asked softly before they reached him.
"Do? What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean, he must've done something to be sent to that – that St. Brutus Whatsits—"
Harry saw them and waved in greeting before Dudley could answer. "Hi there, come to join me?" he called.
"The tales of St. Brutus haven't scared you off, I see," he added after they reached him and exchanged greetings.
Artie shot Dudley a timid look, then nodded slowly. "You still get along with Dudley, don't you? And I don't even know what you did, so—"
"He didn't do anything," Dudley said suddenly and received a surprised look from Artie, and an alarmed one from Harry. "He doesn't go to St. Brutus," he went on quickly, before he could reconsider. "He goes to a special boarding school for gifted children-"
"Dudley, what—" Harry tried to interrupt, his eyes wide and worried.
"He goes to the same school his parents went to. I think my mum was jealous that her sister – Harry's mum – got to go there, but she didn't. So now..." Dudley finally stopped talking, while the other boys looked at him in astonished silence.
"Oh, wow. So you're super smart, then?" said Artie and regarded Harry with new interest.
"Er, well..." mumbled Harry, while he shot his cousin helpless looks. This was very far from what he and Dudley had agreed they would tell Artie.
Fortunately for him, Snuffles drew attention to himself at that moment, running in front of him before approaching the newcomer and circling him curiously. Having to explain the dog's presence served as an excellent distraction. Artie was soon a lot more interested in how Piers was acting outside of school than Harry's background.
Later, however, when he and Dudley actually sat down to look at the homework they had been given, he noticed Harry leafing through their books curiously.
"Not quite like your books, are they?" he asked.
"Not quite, no," Harry replied, thinking of his ancient-looking tomes of leather-bound parchment.
"This must all be very easy for you," Artie went on.
Harry leaned over to look at the questions. The boys were working on their science homework. "It is," he said and he was the only one who was surprised by his answer.
There were many things he did not know, and many more that looked like he did, but he did not recognise the names. Compared to what he had to learn, though, it was all rather very easy. For example, Flitwick had demanded an insane five-foot long essay that answered a dozen or so hard questions about all the topics they had covered over the last year. And of course both McGonagall and Snape had felt the need to outdo him...
Harry glanced over at Dudley's paper, where his cousin was trying to piece together the solution of the first problem. "No, that's wrong. Here, try this," he said thoughtlessly and wrote his solution in Dudley's notebook.
"Could you have a look through my answers, as well?" Artie asked not surprisingly, and Harry could have kicked himself for his idiotic need to show off. Some of his reluctance must have shown, because Artie said, "You don't have to give me the answers, of course. But if you could just tell me if I made a mistake somewhere..."
Harry picked up his notebook, not wanting to blow his cover, and began reading. His fear faded after only a couple of problems. The names were different and so were some of the calculations – slow and unwieldy and awkward – but you could not learn how to change the very nature of the world around you without first understanding how the world worked. In no time at all, he had looked through the whole thing and corrected what little there was to correct. Artie was a good student, unlike Dudley.
It was a fun afternoon. They stayed in the playground for hours, until even Dudley had solved some of his problems – with some help from both Harry and Artie. They played with Snuffles, who did not act suspiciously around Artie, even though he had only met the boy mere hours ago. He really was a very friendly and smart dog, they all agreed. It was a shame he had to remain a stray.
Artie left the next day, without the slightest suspicion of Harry's magical abilities, something that both cousins considered a success. He promised to write to Dudley before leaving, and even though Dudley pretended not to care, Harry knew that he would stay in touch with Artie, and that he considered him a friend now.
As the days passed, Dudley noticed that Harry was becoming morose. He stayed in his room for hours, even though before he had done his best to stay outside for as long as possible. He was not the only one who noticed, either. Whenever he ended up going to the playground on his own, he would find a depressed Snuffles who could rarely be coaxed into playing even something as simple as fetch.
Enough was enough. One afternoon, Dudley coaxed Harry into leaving the house by telling him that he wanted to show him one of Artie's letters. Once they had been joined by Snuffles, who always managed to get Harry in a better mood, Dudley broached the subject.
"What's with you lately?" he asked without any subtlety.
Harry tried to look like he did not know what he was talking about. "Nothing. What do you mean?"
Dudley rolled his eyes. "You've been sulking for days now. Even Snuffles has noticed." The dog barked in agreement.
Harry looked down. "I... It's stupid, really. Ron and Hermione promised they'd write, but..."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Well. And then what with Artie turning up and sending you letters, I just..."
"Well, what if you wrote to them?"
"I thought about that. But Hedwig is not even supposed to leave her cage. If your parents caught her delivering letters—"
"But they've never noticed her leaving at night. Just tell her to arrive unnoticed. I know she can do that. She's had plenty of practice delivering letters to me."
Harry looked away and imperceptibly shook his head. Snuffles would have none of it and nudged him back towards Dudley.
"See? Snuffles agrees that you're being stupid. Artie didn't call me, because he didn't want to be a bother. But he was happy when I called him. Maybe your friends—"
"You don't understand. You don't know..."
There was a pause , a moment of silence uninterrupted even by Snuffles.
"Know what?" Dudley asked carefully after a beat.
Harry seemed to crumble, to collapse into himself. "I killed someone." His voice, a mere whisper, came from somewhere inside the ball he had curled himself into.
"What?" Dudley laughed uncomprehendingly.
Harry uncurled somewhat, but would not raise his head. His shoulders were tense, his fingers clawing at his legs. Then slowly, haltingly, he began telling Dudley about Sirius Black, as well as Quirrel's undetermined condition – something he had glossed over before. "The tale sounds a lot more glorious when you leave out that bit, doesn't it?" he finished bitterly, finally looking up and resting his chin on his arms.
"What else were you supposed to do? Let him kill you?" Dudley was surprised Harry even thought there was something to worry about.
"I could have learned at least, couldn't I? But, no. I had to go and find more trouble. Hermione told me I was better off not knowing, and so did McGonagall, but I wouldn't listen. And then I wrote him a letter." He paused for a moment. "Not that he didn't deserve to hear what I had to tell him. He did. He probably deserved to die, with all he's done-" He dragged the soles of his shoes across the ground.
Snuffles let out a pitiful whine and buried his muzzle under his paws, in a strange resemblance to Harry's posture. This finally got Harry to come out of his gloomy little bubble. He turned towards the dog and tried to calm him.
"Do you really think your friends blame you for that?" Dudley asked in a matter-of-fact tone. "Even I don't, and I'm not nearly as understanding as them."
"I don't know," Harry replied after some thought. "I don't know what to think any more."
Dudley shrugged. "I still think you should just write to them."
Harry procrastinated some more, but finally the waiting got to him and he decided to listen to Dudley and write to his friends. He wrote two letters, one for each, and sent Hedwig late at night, after everyone else had fallen asleep.
She returned late in the morning, even though Harry had strictly warned her to be back before sunrise. But that was the least of his problems. He did not even worry about his aunt and uncle being mad at him for all the noise she had caused. Neither did it matter all that much that they had nearly seen her.
All that mattered was that she looked bruised and ruffled. The fact that she was not carrying a letter did not come as a surprise after that. Harry was relieved that, at least, she had made it home relatively safely, but this was overshadowed by the worry that something was decidedly wrong. His friends may not have written to him, but of course it was out of the question that either of them might have hurt Hedwig.
Clearly, something odd was going on. He was no longer convinced that no one was writing him. More likely, someone or something was preventing letters reaching him, just as Hedwig was prevented from delivering his letters.
Harry began carrying his wand everywhere with him, but neither he nor Dudley were particularly reassured by this. He knew, and so did Dudley – who had nagged him about a demonstration of magic until Harry had felt he had to tell him – that Harry was not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts.
Then Harry's birthday arrived.