Wednesday, 12th August 1992

Harry looked at the cage. It was small, and golden, and locked with an emerald padlock. Flecks of what looked like oddly vibrant rust marred the otherwise perfectly polished metal. Strangely, Harry couldn't see what was inside. He knew somehow that something was trapped, but it was as if his eyes refused to focus properly. Or perhaps he could see it, but not remember doing so? Harry wasn't sure.

He tried to grab hold of the lock. Perhaps he could break it, or use magic to get it open. He knew that opening the cage was very important. Though he did not know why. His mind felt somehow clouded.

As Harry grasped the lock, his hand seemed to phase through it. He felt the touch of cold, metal bars and heard a resounding crack from behind him.

Before he had time to turn around, he heard a squeaky voice. A voice that he recognised. How was he here? Where exactly was here anyway?

"Dobby is sorry Harry Potter sir, but it's not safe for you to come out yet."

Harry looked around wildly for the elf. But he found that now he barely had space to turn. Settling for only moving his eyes and head, he attempted to identify the cause of his sudden confinement. All he saw in every direction was a grid of red-speckled gold. With dizzying panic, he realised that somehow, he was now in the cage.

He fluttered feebly, but there was no room to move. He knew that there shouldn't be enough room for him at all. The cage had been much too small for that. He tried to look down at himself. He knew, with instant, cold certainty that whatever he would see, it wouldn't be human.

Harry thrashed around frantically in his bed, his limbs becoming entangled in the sheets. The strong feeling of being trapped had not left him. He fought desperately to free himself from whatever was restraining him. He needed to see where he was. Everything was just so blurry! He needed to get out. If he didn't get out…

With one final kick, Harry rolled off the bed and hit the floor with a thump. The pain brought him brutally back to earth.

Just a dream, he reminded himself. It was all just a dream. This realisation jolted him out of his panic somewhat, but the fear and claustrophobia remained. After all, the dream was true. He was trapped. His life here with the Dursleys was just as confining as the small, silver cage. Waking up had not freed him. He still needed to get out.

Fred scanned the faces of each person he passed as he walked down Diagon Alley with George. They'd both promised Ron and Hermione that they'd look out for Harry. Of course they all knew that it was very unlikely that Harry would just happen to be here on the same day as themselves, but they had to hope. So far though, there had been no sign of the young wizard. Not in Quality Quidditch Supplies, or in the Owl Emporium buying treats for Hedwig, or in any of the other places that they might expect to find him.

"He's not here," George confirmed Fred's thought, "we would have seen him by now if he was, we've looked everywhere."

Fred sighed, "you're right. I knew it was a longshot, but, well..." he trailed off sadly.

Fred was very worried about his honorary little brother. Unlike Ron, who was occasionally clouded by his insecurities, according to George, Fred understood that there was no way Harry would just stop writing to the other members of the trio. The fact that he hadn't responded to any of Ron's or Hermione's letters was a very bad sign.

Harry's uncle, Fred recalled, was a big, threatening looking man. Harry didn't talk about his relatives much, and his uncle definitely hadn't seemed happy to have him back at the end of the summer term. Fred and George had realised some time ago that Harry probably wasn't very happy at home based on the things he had and hadn't said, and certain other pieces of information. However, while they'd thought it was bad, and were unhappy about the situation, they hadn't ever considered the possibility that he might be in danger before now.

"What do you think could be going on with Harry?" he asked his twin for the umpteenth time that summer.

"I don't know, Fred," his brother replied patiently, also not for the first time.

"Mum doesn't seem to think it can be that bad, so maybe?" Fred began hopefully before stopping and shaking his head despairingly.

"Mum doesn't like to think that not everyone has a great family like us," George said sadly, "she'll be distraught when she finds out, assuming things are as bad as we think anyway, but we'll need proper evidence to convince her. She'll just think we're exaggerating to get round her otherwise."

Fred's shoulders slumped. George was the more insightful of the two, and Fred trusted his instincts. He must be right. But what could they do? Fred wasn't used to feeling trapped like this, with no options available to him.

He always saw himself as the confident twin; the one who could talk to anyone and try anything. But in this situation, there was no one to charm or trick, and his last plan had failed catastrophically. Maybe if he'd just put more thought into it? Been more careful?

"George…" Fred said hesitantly, beginning to voice a question he hadn't dared to think about thus far, "you don't think… They couldn't have hurt him, could they?"

George immediately reached out a hand for Fred's and squeezed it comfortingly. Looking into his brother's eyes, Fred understood that George had been burying the same question deep in his own mind, also not wanting to think about it. He also thought that George could probably see the guilt that now churned in the pit of his stomach.

"Those muggles wouldn't dare. Harry's faced Voldemort twice, and that brute of an uncle doesn't look like he could face a pixie," George attempted to joke, though the slight shaking of his voice gave him away.

"You're right," Fred said, deciding to play along for both their sakes, "that lumbering idiot has no chance against our Harrykins."

George nodded, forcing a brittle smile. Fred sucked in a ragged breath through his tightening throat. He didn't think they'd ever come across anything that they couldn't make better with jokes before.

George squeezed Fred's hand again, and looked at him seriously before saying, "Fred, it's not your fault you know. You tried. We all did. It's no one's fault really. Mum and Percy didn't realise what they were doing. But you did your best."

"Thank you," Fred replied quietly, not meeting his twin's eyes.

George continued to glance at Fred as they walked, but seemed to have decided that this wasn't the time to push the issue. Fred logically understood what he'd said, and at any other time, he would have been soothed by the words as he usually was. This time however, he could not simply wave his emotions away. They weighed him down, making him sick and twisting painfully in his chest. It was all he could do to stop it showing on his face.

Silence descended once more. Neither of them quite knowing what to say. Fred was sure that if anyone from school came across them now they would know something was wrong. The Weasley twins were never known to be quiet unless they were planning something. After a few moments, Fred found his thoughts turning back to Ron.

His youngest brother had always been somewhat lacking in confidence, he supposed. But this had never been so clear as it was this summer. Even their mother had soon decided not to bother making Ron complete the chores she'd originally set as part of his punishment. He was obviously punishing himself enough.

Fred hoped that spending some time with Hermione would help set him straight. She seemed sensible, if a bit bossy and overly concerned with authority figures. Hopefully she could convince Ron that Harry hadn't abandoned him.

"Any ideas for how we could cheer up little Ronnie?" Fred asked, seeking a distraction from his own depressing thoughts.

"I don't think the usual approach is going to cut it," George responded, shaking his head, "all we can really do is be there for him, and find Harry as soon as possible."

"Right," Fred agreed dejectedly.

As they completed their shopping and headed towards Flourish and Blott's to meet up with the rest of the family, Fred's mind raced; fruitlessly searching for a way out of this restrictive situation. There might be nothing to do this time, but he swore to himself that he would make sure that Harry never got into this kind of trouble again. Whatever it was. Even if he had to visit the Dursleys himself.

Hermione was attempting to browse the shelves in Flourish and Blott's. This was made rather more difficult than usual by the staggering number of people crammed into the shop. Gilderoy Lockhart, famous adventurer and author, was here for a book signing.

At any other time, Hermione would have been ecstatic at having the chance to meet such a fascinating person. He'd written the entire booklist for defence against the dark arts, and from what she'd read and heard, he seemed very impressive. Now however, her mind was occupied with thoughts of her two best friends. In fact, her only friends.

Harry would have hated being here Hermione was sure. He avoided crowds, except perhaps at quidditch matches. She suspected he wouldn't think much of Lockhart's demeanour either. Then again, he might appreciate the man's heroics. Hermione wished that Harry was here for her to ask these questions. Instead, well, she supposed he must be at his relatives...

She remembered her most recent attempt to call Harry. Unlike the first time, someone had answered. A high-pitched, simpering voice had asked politely who was speaking. Hermione, thinking that perhaps mentioning Hogwarts by name might make the woman uncomfortable, told her that she was a schoolfriend of Harry's.

At this point, the woman had insisted that she knew no such person. Hermione tried again, clearly enunciating the name "Harry Potter" in case the woman hadn't heard. This had only seemed to aggravate the woman however, as she shouted shrilly that there was no one by that name at that address, and hung up. It was at this point that Hermione had really started to worry.

Before the phone call, she had been fairly convinced that things were probably alright. Maybe Harry was just on holiday and didn't want to send Hedwig too far. Maybe his relatives had been concerned about what had happened at the end of the year, and punished Harry by not allowing him to communicate with his friends in the hopes of teaching him to be more careful. She hadn't considered that anything could really be going on.

Her mind had immediately confronted her with two possibilities, neither of them good.

Number one: Harry had given her the wrong number.

It was quite possible that he'd just made a mistake, and she'd called the wrong house. Though, thinking about it, she was sure that Harry's relatives were the Dursley family, and the woman had introduced herself as Petunia Dursley. Then the obvious follow-up question, which she was unable to dismiss in time, was "what if Harry gave her the wrong number on purpose?".

Hermione didn't like thinking about that question. It brought back horrible memories from before Hogwarts. Before she'd had friends. Most of her peers had simply ignored or made fun of her, which was bad enough. But what had been worse were the few times when someone had pretended to be her friend, and copied her homework for a time while laughing at her behind her back, only to completely dismiss her when they got bored. Hermione closed her eyes in a futile attempt to shut out the sudden onslaught of gut-wrenching flashbacks.

Shaking her head, she pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind once more. She didn't want to think about Harry as though he was the same as all those people. Harry was different. She was sure of it. She had to be.

Number two: Harry's relatives were much worse than she'd imagined.

This explanation was in a way, just as painful as the first. To Hermione's shame however, she couldn't help also feeling a sense of relief at the idea that Harry hadn't meant to ignore her. What kind of friend did that make her? Wishing that her friend was in a horrible situation, just as long as he still liked her?

Hermione felt her lips twist in disgust at herself. No wonder no one else had ever wanted to get close to her before. She really was just an insufferable know-it-all who only cared about books and teachers.

Hermione blinked rapidly, her eyes darting, looking for the closest exit. She had to get out of here. A toxic blend of emotion was rising through her chest, burning her throat. Drowning her. Disgust. Worry. Loss. Fear. Uncertainty.

"Hermione?"

Hermione forced herself to breathe. After a moment of grappling with her raging emotions, during which she managed to draw a thin curtain of calm logic across her inner tumult, she looked up to meet the worried blue eyes of her other friend, Ron. Clearing her throat awkwardly and hoping her voice would remain steady, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Ron! Sorry I was just..."

"You were miles away," Ron observed, "everything alright? Were you thinking about Harry?"

"Yes!" Hermione seized the half-truth with relief, "yes I was thinking about Harry. I hope he's alright. Will he be able to get his books?"

Ron patted her awkwardly on the arm. Hermione observed in a detached sort of way that he hadn't even rolled his eyes at her when the first thing she'd come out with was a question about books.

She was worried about Ron too. Not that she'd dare tell him. He was taking the failure of the twins' plan hard; shifting between anger at Percy and his mother, and anger at himself at a rapid rate. She'd tried to convince him that what had happened wasn't really anyone's fault. But she'd found it hard to conceal her disapproval of the plan, and of Ron's fight with Percy, and so they'd split off from each other as they entered the book shop.

Their argument was forgotten now though. Even when he wasn't with them, Harry could still bring them together.

"We should probably join the others," Ron said gruffly, "I've got our books for charms and potions. Have you got transfiguration and herbology?"

Hermione nodded, finding a better grip on her stack of books, as well as her emotions. This more normal topic of conversation comforted her, allowing her to draw the curtain even tighter. She could not let go yet.

Hermione and Ron found the others gathered round Mr Weasley in the queue for the counter. They were the last to collect all their books. Mrs Weasley was still in line to get their defence ones signed.

Mr Weasley was talking animatedly with Hermione's parents, who seemed rather bemused by his enthusiasm. Fred and George were studiously ignoring their older brother Percy, who stood a little off to the side. The youngest Weasley, Ginny, was looking round at all her brothers uncertainly, carrying a cauldron containing a pile of textbooks.

"Weasel, Granger. Fancy seeing you here. Potter not with you? Finally realised he can do better has he?" an obnoxious, drawling voice said behind them.

Hermione turned, knowing even before she caught sight of him who she would find. Draco Malfoy stood there, sneering maliciously. Behind the curtain, fear and uncertainty lashed out like striking cobras. She flinched, feeling Ron tense beside her. Knowingly or not, Malfoy had touched a nerve with his little gibe.

"Shut up Malfoy!" Ron retorted angrily, ears reddening.

The loud response caught Mr Weasley's attention. He turned around to see what was happening behind him. As he did so, another man walked up to them, his pale pointed features and platinum hair making it abundantly clear who he was.

"Ah, Draco. I see you've found some of your classmates. Would you care to introduce me?"

"This is Granger," Draco began, a note of annoyance creeping into his tone.

"Oh yes," Mr Malfoy interjected smoothly, "the... muggle-born you've told me so much about. Draco tells me you came top in all your classes Miss Granger. I suppose for one of your position you must feel like you need to work harder."

Hermione felt her cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment. She was no fool. What he'd said could have been a reasonable observation, if not for the cruel smirk that crossed his face as he said it, and the condescension dripping from his tone. She opened her mouth, seeing many of the Weasleys do likewise. Mr Malfoy continued speaking before anyone had a chance to interject, however.

"And I need no introduction to recognise you," he turned his patronising gaze on Ron, "red hair, old clothes, and more of you than anyone can remember. And of course, I do know you're father."

"Malfoy," Mr Weasley greeted stiffly, finally getting a chance to speak.

"Arthur," Malfoy replied, "been very busy at work so I've heard. All those raids. I do hope they're paying you overtime."

Reaching past Hermione, the older blond snatched a book from Ginny's cauldron. Holding it up and pretending to scrutinise it, he smiled smugly at the clearly second-hand volume.

"Sadly, judging by the look of this, I'd say not. Pity that you get paid so little for disgracing the name of wizard," he paused, then looked at Hermione's parents, "and in public now I see."

Now it was anger's turn to attempt to break through her facade. How dare this man just come up to them and offend them like that? It was bad enough that he'd insulted her, but at least then there had been some subtlety. But to openly call her parents a disgrace? She felt her blood boil. She thought she finally understood how Ron felt whenever he got into a fight with Malfoy at school.

She opened her mouth to say something, what, she had no idea. Before she could utter a word however, she felt Mr Weasley brush past her as he charged Mr Malfoy.

The Weasleys all began cheering on their father as he punched his opponent in the face, then the stomach. Soon they were full-on brawling, and it was hard to distinguish who was doing what in the tangle of limbs.

Hermione felt conflicted. Certainly she had been very angry, and had just sympathised with Ron for all those times he'd almost started a fight. But she wasn't sure how to feel about Mr Weasley getting into a fight like this. He always seemed so calm. She was amazed that he had such a temper. She moved closer to her parents and away from the two men.

Hermione's parents looked shocked and rattled. This wasn't what she'd intended when she'd asked if Ron's family could maybe go to Diagon Alley on the same day as hers. She hoped they wouldn't feel too negatively towards the Weasleys now. She needed one friend at least.

"Come on! Break it up!"

Hermione jumped. Somehow in the midst of her inner turmoil and thinking about her parents, she'd completely failed to notice Hagrid. The giant man was holding both wizards apart in his massive hands. Hermione noticed smugly that Malfoy had a black eye, and looked very uncomfortable in Hagrid's grip.

"Honestly Arthur! What did you think you were doing!?" Mrs Weasley shouted.

"Here girl, take this book back," Malfoy spat, finally having been let go by Hagrid, "it's the best your father can afford."

Throwing the book back into Ginny's cauldron, Mr Malfoy turned and strode out of the shop, gesturing imperiously at his son to follow. Hermione sighed with relief and began hurriedly explaining things to her parents in a way that hopefully didn't sound too bad.

She was struggling to understand everything that had just happened herself. She understood the concept of discrimination, but this was the first time it had ever really affected her. She was shocked and outraged, and furious that there was nothing she could do about the situation. She silently determined to do even better in all her classes. She might be stuck in a world where some viewed her as a lesser being, but that didn't mean she couldn't show up those prejudiced morons.

Diary Entry: Wednesday, 12th August 1992

Dear diary,

I'm so glad my mum bought you for me. I feel like writing things down could really help me make sense of things. It's been a strange few weeks, and I'm not even at Hogwarts yet.

You see my brother Ron is friends with Harry Potter. It's amazing really, I have no idea how he managed to become friends with someone like that. Anyway, Harry hasn't been writing to Ron this summer apparently. I suggested that he might be too busy. He is famous after all. But that just seemed to make him angry for some reason.

I'm not sure what's going on now, but I know Ron and the twins have been punished, and they're all mad at Percy. I think it has something to do with Harry Potter, but I'm not sure what it could be. Now they're not allowed to fly! And Fred and George had to do loads of chores. Ron got out of them though somehow.

The worst part, is that mum said another part of their punishment is that Harry can't come over now. That's really unfair! I wanted to meet him.

Then today, a boy called Malfoy said something about Harry, and Ron got really angry. I saw his ears go red. I thought maybe he would punch him, but instead dad punched his dad. That was strange, but it was really fun to watch. Mum wasn't pleased though.

I'm going to go to sleep now. Only 20 days until I get to go to Hogwarts! Harry Potter will be there. I'll have to get a chance to meet him then.

Had anyone been looking at the diary a little later, after Ginny had fallen asleep, they would have witnessed her entry vanishing from the page. If they had then continued to watch the page, they would have seen new words appear in its place.

"Hello, my name is Tom Riddle. What's your name? And who is Harry Potter?"

A/N

CrypticSpren: Wow! Yet again I'm blown away by all of the kind and constructive reviews, and the amount of attention this fic is getting. I don't quite know how we've managed to get over 100 followers already, but I'm so grateful and I sincerely hope that you continue to enjoy this story.

Truthweaver: Yeah I'm so grateful and amazed by all of the follows and favourites! You guys are all great! We want to celebrate the milestones of gaining over 100 followers, and 50 favourites in some way, but didn't have too much time this week. Check my profile later today/tomorrow for a short oneshot I put together, and stay tuned next week when we hope to be able to announce two surprises that we hope you'll all like. Thanks again for all the support!

So we finally rounded out the trio's points of view. I hope you enjoyed seeing what Hermione has been up to. We've also had POV's from all of the school aged Weasleys (if you count a diary entry).

We also want to thank Kaylee for her wonderful review. If you do get an account, please let us know and we'll reply to you properly.

See you next week, when we finally get a glimpse of Minerva McGonagall.