Chapter One
Something gold was glinting just above him. A snitch. It was floating in a sea of white clouds. No wait. It wasn't the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses.
How strange.
Harry blinked a few times, his bruised mind gearing tiredly back up and the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.
"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.
Harry struggled to sit up. The level of power Dumbledore had over his life had not been lost on Harry. From having had possession of his Gringotts key, to being entirely responsible for his placement with the Dursleys, to having handled his reintroduction to the wizarding world…no, Harry was under no illusions about who was in control of his life. Not to mention his education.
That first conversation with Hagrid had revealed a great deal of interesting information. But then really, any conversation that started with 'you're a wizard' was bound to.
"Hello, sir," Harry said cautiously.
"You are not in trouble, Harry," Dumbledore ventured after a moments silent observation.
"Oh." Harry said, struggling to establish his accepted heroic role in the situation.
"Sir, the stone-"
"Professor Quirrell does not have the stone, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted.
"Oh," Harry said again, "is he alright, sir?"
"I'm afraid that between the injuries sustained from you and the trauma of Voldemort's exit when he detected my approach, Professor Quirrell is no longer with us," Dumbledore said carefully.
Harry swallowed but nodded.
"You got Hermione's owl?" he asked.
"We must have crossed in mid-air. No sooner had I reached London then it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull you one from under the mirror."
Harry nodded, although something about that image didn't sit right. Surely Dumbledore did not use a broom to get to and from London every time he had work there, especially if the Minister 'peppered' him with owls as Hagrid said. Harry did not voice his doubt however.
"Where is the stone now sir?" Harry asked, then immediately realised how presumptuous that sounded, "I mean to say…is it safe sir?" he corrected lamely.
"The stone has been destroyed, my dear boy," Dumbledore said, smiling gently. That fact that Harry knew this expression was designed to put him at ease in no way effected its capacity to do so.
"But what about Mr Flamel sir?" Harry asked.
"Oh, you know about Nicholas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted.
"You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well Nicholas and I have had a little chat and agreed it's all for the best."
"Oh," Harry said for the third time, beginning to feel rather stupid. He had an opportunity to talk to Dumbledore, he should be making use of it.
"Sir, I was wondering…all year I've been under the impression that Professor Snape was trying to kill me during my first quidditch match but in light of recent events…" he trailed off awkwardly, unsure how to finish his question.
"Professor Snape was attempting to save you, Harry," Dumbledore stated calmly.
"Oh," Harry said again, mentally chastising himself even as he said it, "Um, would you thank him for me?" he said, mentally shuddering at the thought of trying to do so himself.
"I shall pass on your gratitude."
"Speaking of gratitude," Harry began, sure this was the best segway he was likely to get, "I was wondering, was it you who gave me the cloak, sir?"
"Ah – your father happened to leave it in my possession and I thought you might like it."
"Thank you, sir," Harry said, smiling a little.
"You're quite welcome, my dear boy," Dumbledore told him, smiling back brightly. Harry turned a little unsure if there were any other subject he really wanted to broach with the headmaster. His eyes feel on the collection of sweets adorning the end of his bed.
"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, seeing his confused expression, "I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a lavatory seat," Harry sorted, remembering the conversation at Kings Cross, "I see they were correct in thinking it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey however, felt in might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."
"How long have I been in here sir," Harry asked.
"Three days," Harry nodded, suddenly remembering what Voldemort had told him about the prophecy.
"Sir…you made it sound before…like you were friends with my parents…I was wondering if you could tell me if there was any particular reason Vol- I mean You-Know-Who tried to kill them," Harry felt it best not to reveal that he'd already asked Voldemort the same question.
"Alas my boy, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day…put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older…I know you hate to hear this…when you are ready, you will know."
Trying not to show how incredibly unimpressed he was with that answer, Harry nodded.
"And sir?" he asked timidly. Dumbledore smiled encouragingly.
"Why did Quirrell's hands burn when he touched me?" Dumbledore seemed delighted by this question.
"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realise that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign… to have been loved so deeply, even if the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch someone marked by something so good."
Harry nodded again, unable to summon any verbal response to this blatant load of tripe.
The rest of the year passed in something of a blur for Harry, Ron and Hermione seemed suitably impressed by his story of trying to use the body bind Hermione had demonstrated, on Quirrell and then being cursed and forced to retrieve the stone from the mirror. Hagrid shook the windows in the hospital wing with his sobs before giving Harry a photo album that Harry was waiting for a time when he was alone to look at.
The end of term feast had been horrible. It had been nice to see all his housemates so happy and the look on Malfoy's face had been very gratifying, but that did not change the fact that Professor Dumbledore had stolen the house cup from Slytherin by awarding him and his friends hundreds of points after the school year had technically ended for breaking the rules. It didn't escape Harry that Slytherin had also been about to set some sort of a record that they had apparently been working on for seven years and the gutted expression of many of the older Slytherins wasn't something Harry was likely to forget soon. Especially given the fact that they probably all blamed him for what Dumbledore had done. Seriously, it was like Dumbledore wanted them to hate him.
However, compassion was a commodity that was fast disappearing behind him. Harry had already set a date with Ron and Hermione two weeks into August to all go shopping for school supplies in Diagonally, something that had been enthusiastically, – Mr Weasley – politely, – the Grangers – and extremely rudely – the Dursleys – agreed to by everyone's parents before departing King's Cross.
Which left Harry six weeks before he would see everyone again. On the one hand this meant six weeks alone with the Dursleys, which Harry wasn't excited about, but on the other, this would be the first time Harry would have to himself since September.
He really did have some thinking to do.
Firstly, there was a prophecy about him and Voldemort, of which Dumbledore knew, but refused to tell Harry until he was 'ready' which basically meant until Dumbledore wanted to. Which really raised more questions than it answered. Firstly, this meant that prophecies were an actual thing. It was actually possible to predict the future. This in turn called into question the idea of free will but Harry chose to close down that particular line of speculation for the moment. What he really needed was concrete information about the field, which could be gotten at Flourish and Blots presumably however he'd rather not do so while he had everyone staring over his shoulder, especially as he wasn't supposed to know about this and Hermione's respect for authority figures bordered on the fanatical.
But as he'd already told Uncle Vernon he'd be going school shopping in August, he couldn't get a lift. This left him sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night and trying to get to London on his own, a prospect Harry was not thrilled by. No, he'd try sending an owl to the shop first and see if anything could be arranged that way.
However, to return to the prophecy in question, well, all he really knew about it was that it had resulted in Voldemort attempting to kill him, which wasn't promising. However, a prophecy presumably had to come from somewhere, if it was made by someone, he might be able to find out who or find a record of it somehow.
Really, he needed more information before he could do anything.
Secondly, was the issue of not being allowed to do magic outside of school. It went without saying that the Dursleys must not find out about this rule, but Harry would also really like to know how his magic was detected so that, who was he kidding, he could find a way to circumvent it. After all, what was the point of being a wizard if your cousin could still beat you up just to pass the time.
That however, would also require books.
Shifting in the back seat of the Dursley's car to supress his impatience, Harry made a mental note to write to Flourish and Blots the moment he got home.
Thirdly, was Dumbledore's monopoly on his life, not only was it making him incredibly uncomfortable…
Well, actually that was it. It was making him incredibly uncomfortable. However again this required information. There was apparently a Ministry of Magic, but the last thing Harry wanted to do was go bumbling about without understanding the law and systems by which the Ministry presumably ran.
Finally, Harry thought as they pulled into Privat Drive, there was the photo album he'd been avoiding since Hagrid gave it to him.
"Get out boy!" Uncle Vernon snarled the moment the car stopped, obediently, Harry opened the car door and began manoeuvring Hedwig's cage and his broom out after him. By the time he straitened, Uncle Vernon was already at the door with his trunk, which was worryingly nice of him.
Harry reached the front door himself just in time to see his uncle shove his trunk into his old cupboard. The reddening man turned to smile at him nastily.
"The broom, freak."
Wordlessly, Harry handed it over and watched as his uncle snapped a padlock on the door.
"Now the bird."
Panic flooded Harry's chest but as much as he liked Hedwig, there was no way he was going to die for an owl. Harry swallowed and handed over her cage however to his relief, his uncle only snapped a second padlock onto her cage before handing it back.
It was in a deep silence that Harry climbed the stairs and closed the door to his room.
Well, home at last.
He set Hedwig on his desk and examined the lock. It was extremely generic, the kind one could buy at a supermarket which was probably where Uncle Vernon had gotten it.
Sighing, Harry began searching the mounds of Dudley's old junk that decorated the majority of his room for something that could be used to pick it. Wires ideally.
It took him twenty minutes to give up and admit he needed some of Aunt Petunia's hair pins and a further ten to establish that it was safe to sneak into her and Vernon's room to steal them.
After a fruitless night of trying, Harry rose the early next morning, stole an apple for breakfast and renewed his attempts. It was almost lunch time when he finally heard the click.
Hardly daring to breath, Harry lifted the lock gently away from the cage like some sort of wild animal that would latch back on if he startled it, and placed it delicately on the table, Hedwig hooted and shuffled towards the cage door, but Harry merely shushed her. No way he was letting her out in broad daylight. No, what he needed right now was a plan.
The most important thing would be to make sure his Uncle never found out, which either meant putting the lock back on and picking it every time he wanted to open the cage or getting another lock from the supermarket. As he didn't have any money, at least not muggle money, he'd have to steal it.
Later that afternoon found one eleven-year-old Harry Potter walking out of Costcutter with two padlocks, replete with the necessary keys, tucked into his underwear. At the last moment he'd remembered he'd need one for the lock on his cupboard too. Luckily, he wasn't bothered beyond a squealing from a fleeing Dudley on his way back to his room as he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't limping. He'd never really appreciated how many corners a padlock had before.
Quickly snapping the first padlock onto an indignant Hedwig's cage Harry stashed the other, along with the open one and the lone key in a corner under his bed. He'd need a better hiding spot for them soon but right now he was eager to write his letter in case he was called down to make dinner. Tearing a page out of one of the old school notebooks Dudley had never so much as touched, Harry began to write:
To the proprietors and employees of Flourish and Blots
As a young wizard raised by muggles I found your shop to be an invaluable source of information while shopping for my first-year text books, and I am writing to enquire whether it might be possible to order more extracurricular texts by owl so that I may continue to enjoy them over the summer Holidays. The subjects in which I am interested are:
prophecies, their origins and how they are dealt with by wizarding society:
wizarding law and government, most specifically relating to children:
and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, relating to the events of the war which killed my parents and the reasons for it:
Any help you could offer me would be most appreciated.
Your Sincerely
Harry James Potter
Yes, that sounded appropriately formal. The last one was mainly so he could work in the bit about his parents, which he worried might be laying it on a little thick, but if he had to put up with being accosted every time he went shopping, he might as well name drop himself once in a while. It wasn't like he was being rude. At least he hoped not.
Removing a pair of scissors, tag still attached, from a pencil case which also still had its tag attached, Harry trimmed off the frayed edge the spiral binding had left and had just finished folding the letter as Ron had showed him when her heard his Aunt's footstep on the stairs. Quickly shoving the letter under his pillow, Harry was halfway to the door when she banged on it.
"Diner!" she shrieked, and Harry relaxed as he heard her turn back towards the hall, "now!"
With one last cursory glance around the room, Harry hurried to follow Petunia Dursley down to the kitchen. It wasn't until he was frying up the sausages that he realised he'd forgotten to mention anything about underage magic. Although now he thought about it, that might not be such a bad thing. He really only had one reason to be interested in that area anyway. He'd just had to wait until he was actually at Diagon Alley.
Dinner that night was a quiet affair, Harry of course not receiving much of it and hurrying upstairs immediately after doing the washing up to let Hedwig out with his letter just as it was getting properly dark. His last though that evening was that if they refused to send books out to him, he'd have to find some way of stealing money. It was much harder to avoid paying for buss fair then it was for padlocks.
Harry was awakened at 4:23am by the sound of a sharp beak rapping against his window. Immediately, Harry leapt up, stumbling over his blanket as he hurried to open the window and cursing himself for not leaving it open before he went to sleep. Hedwig flew in, and he wasted no time removing the package attached to her feet before locking her back in her cage and stumbling back to his bed, package in hand.
Hedwig hooted loudly in indignation, but Harry ignored her, panting as he lay in bed, the package clutched to his chest.
Silence.
Slowly, his breathing stilled.
There was no sound of footsteps.
Far more carefully this time, Harry got back up. He left the package still concealed in his bed and he crossed back to Hedwig's cage and stroked her feathers through the bars. She nipped his fingers rather harder than necessary, but Harry thought that was probably fair considering what she'd been but through in the last forty-eight hours.
After a few more minutes of silence, Harry collected the key to her cage and let his rather grumpy owl out to hunt, this time making sure to leave both his window and the door to her cage open. Shoving some old jeans of Dudley's that he wasn't particularly fond of under the door to hide the light, Harry flicked his light on and collected his parcel from the bed.
It turned out to contain catalogues. Each was in black and white and had the name Flourish and Blots printed in large loopy letters across the front under the title. There were three and each was printed on the same thin parchment as the prophet. The first was titled Everything a Muggleborn Needs to Know the second The Ministry of Magic and the last Hogwarts Electives, Make Your Choice Early.
There was also a letter.
Dear Mr Potter
I was delighted to receive your owl and am pleased to inform you we do offer an owl order service for those who are unable to come to the shop in person. I have taken the liberty of sending you several of our catalogues which cover some of the subjects in which you expressed an interest. It's always encouraging to see students looking into their electives before actually choosing them as the choices you make can drastically affect the jobs you can apply for later on.
I wasn't entirely sure what to send you regarding that war as we don't actually have a catalogue devoted to it. Some of the information in the one for muggleborns might be helpful but personally I would suggest The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts as it has a good section about You-Know-Who and is generally cited as the most accurate in relation to your story.
Please feel free to write a list of any titles that interest you by return owl and we will send them to you directly. You can retain a bill with us of up to one hundred galleons for up to a year, before it has to be paid off.
Yours with the best of wished
Nicholas Moon
P.S. – it was an honour to
Harry smiled at the scribbled-out post script. Being thanked by strangers for defeating Voldemort had always made him feel awkward, and it was nice to see someone making an effort to reign in their enthusiasm, even if only as a second thought. He then turned his attention to the catalogues.
The first thing he noted was that they were nothing like muggle catalogues. The only pictures where on the front and they were very simple in their design. Instead of the glossy images and eye-catching displays that he was used to, the inside of each was filled with carefully ordered columns listing price, title, authors, and a little about the book. The only variation was in the amount of description the books were given and the categories they were sorted into.
The one for Muggleborns has categories like Transportation, the Ministry, History, and Life at Hogwarts while the Elective catalogue was organised into Hogwarts Electives, Non-Hogwarts Electives and Masteries and then by subjects. The ministry one however looked the most daunting, as it was organised my ministry departments and then by offices and didn't seem to contain a single full sentence but was made up of incredibly complicated entries filled with indents and dot point designed to show under which sub-department, department, office, major department and whatever else each specific employee of the ministry worked, and in which book you could find a description of their job.
It took Harry nearly forty minutes decide to get both the book covering the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the one on the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes as both looked like they might contain information relating to underaged magic. It was during his search that he made a rather worrying discovery.
There was no department of child services. There wasn't even a department of public services. No wonder Dumbledore had the monopoly on his life, the was actually no competition.
Trying not to dwell on the social implications of this discovery, Harry wrote down the two books by someone named Casper Crouch that he wanted, before moving onto the other two catalogues. He'd at first been confused by Moon's comments about electives and the subsequent catalogue but a closer look explained the connection. There was an entire subject devoted to predicting the future which he would have the option of taking up in his third year. Relieved at the presumptions Moon had made - there was no reason to imagine the staff and Flourish and Blots reported to Dumbledore, or even that the man would care Harry had lied to him, but a life under Vernon had made Harry secretive and suspicious of authority figures by nature - Harry added the third-year divination text Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky to his list as well as the book Moon had recommended. He added a polite salutation and an expression of gratitude around the list and them folded the letter up and hid it under his pillow to send that evening.
By this time, the sun was peaking over the horizon and Hedwig had long ago returned with a dead mouse which she was now digesting with a satisfied air. Harry rose to turn off his light, stretching and cracking his back as he bent down to remove the jeans from under the door. He replaced the lock on Hedwig's cage, she took this with substantially more grace on a full stomach, and retreated back to his bed with his catalogues. He'd yet to give the Muggleborns one any serious attention.
By the time his aunt called him to make breakfast, Harry had decided he would also get Wizarding Transportation: A Guide and History, A Brief History of Magical Britain, and Hogwarts: A History because what his friends didn't know wouldn't make Hermione smug or Ron complain.
Harry's day passed in something of a blur, not least because he was rather tired from having gotten up to early, as his aunt had managed to find a long list of chores that needed to be done, mostly involving tending her garden, and it wasn't until after 'lunch', or piece of bread with lettuce leaf as Harry called it, that he was able to return to his room. After a good couple of hours sleep, Harry eventually found himself once again lying in bed perusing his only real connection to the wizarding world.
Still warry of the suffering brought by the ministry catalogue, Harry this time decided to read up on his electives. It seemed Hogwarts offered five: Muggle Studies, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy. The only one that sounded totally useless was Muggle Studies, and Arithmancy sound downright wonderful. It was the first time he'd read words like 'geometry' and 'equation' in relation to magic. Harry had actually liked maths quite a lot at school, it had been one of the few things he was proud of as a child because no matter what the Dursleys said, nothing would change the fact that five and five did not make fifteen (Dudley's answer) and any person with all their fingers would have to agree.
On the other hand, there were dozens of subjects that weren't offered at Hogwarts and half of them actually seemed to be banned or not recognised in Britain. There was:
Wizarding Etiquette and Culture – British (not recognised)
Eastern Wizarding Etiquette and Culture
Asian Wizarding Etiquette and Culture
Obscure Wizarding Cultures (not recognised at OWL level, Mastery Available)
French (not recognised at owl level, Mastery Available)
German (not recognised at owl level, Mastery Available)
Greek (not recognised at owl level, Mastery Available)
Chinese (not recognised at owl level, Mastery Available)
Arabic – Urdu (not recognised at owl level, Mastery Available)
Spanish (not recognised at owl level, Mastery Available)
Magical Art (not recognised)
Magical Music (not recognised)
Magical Medicine
Duelling – British Tradition
Duelling – Eastern Tradition (Banned in Britain)
Necromancy (Banned in Britain)
Metamorphic Magic (Banned in Britain)
Soul Magic (Banned in Britain)
Dark Curses (Banned in Britain)
Dark Arts – General (Banned in Britain)
Healing
Light Magic – General (Banned in Britain)
Spell Crafting (not recognised at owl level, Mastery Available)
Goblin History and Culture
Centaur History and Culture (not recognised)
Elf History and Culture (not recognised)
Giant History and Culture (Banned in Britain)
European History of Magic
Asian History of Magic
Middle Eastern History of Magic (not recognised)
Theology of the Origins of Magic (not recognised at owl level, Mastery Available
Which left the only available electives not offered at Hogwarts as:
Eastern Wizarding Etiquette and Culture
Asian Wizarding Etiquette and Culture
Magical Medicine
Duelling – British Tradition
Healing
Goblin History and Culture
European History of Magic
Asian History of Magic
The history and culture options all sounded boring, but Duelling, and the medicine subjects looked interesting, even if the information available was frustratingly limited. Harry smiled as he reread the subjects he could only study as a Mastery. Spell Crafting! Actually creating spells? That sounded absolutely fascinating as did the origins of magic. Where did magic come from? It was an incredible question that Harry had never even bothered to think about, but he quickly added a post script asking about books on the topics to his latest letter to Mr Moon.
By the next morning his books had arrived, and Harry spent the next few weeks reading like he had never read before, the Misuse of Magic Section of the Law Enforcement book revealed that underage magic was detected by something called the trace, a subject upon which Moon was regretfully unable to offer him further assistance.
On the other hand, Unfogging the Future was very helpful and clearly explained the nature of different types of prophecies and their properties. For example, there were various forms of divination such as reading tea leaves and crystal balls that a true seer could use at will, however these were often unreliable as, even if the person reading them was a seer, which wasn't always the case, reading was subject to the seer's personal interpretation.
On the other hand, true prophesies were spoken, and were usually the result of a prophetic trance that only the most gifted seers could bring on at will. These would almost always come true however the ambiguity of language still meant that free will held, events would be confined to something that could conceivably fit into the wording of the prophecy however the book warned strongly against acting on or trying to influence a prophecy. In short, the text seemed to suggest that even at its best, divination was an extremely imprecise art which could only offer a vague idea of the future even to the most proficient.
After reading the entire book cover to cover, Harry decided against taking it in third year, although it was all very interesting in theory, the book repeatedly referred to a true seer in a way that seemed to suggest he lived in a world polluted by false seers and that these wannabees should really just leave things to the professionals.
On the other hand, Harry was greatly enjoying Numerology and Grammatica by L. Wakefeild and M. Carneiro which essentially picked up mathematics where he had left off at muggle school and took it more into the realms of physics, which specific focus on magical waves, fluctuations and variance. In short, it was fascinating. Ancient Runes was much drier and seemed more like learning complicated Japanese characters than anything else Harry was familiar with, but the introduction to Ancient Runes Made Easy discussed the necessity of runes in the British and European spall crafting tradition, so Harry persevered, even going so far as to copy down a few of his favourites, though he dreaded to think what the Dursley's would do if they even happened to pick up Dudley's old notebook.
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander had also been thoroughly covered in the week following its arrival, and Harry was amazed to read about the variety of magical creatures in the world. It was a wonder he'd never run across one before, although as he thought about it, Harry remembered the talking snake from the zoo that one time and admitted that maybe he had after all.
Moon had also eventually been able to locate A Beginner's Guide to Spell Crafting and two books called Origins of Magic by Nicolas Flamel – which made Harry feel rather guilty for the Philosopher's Stone incident, not least because it was brilliant, and the world had now lost the possibility of a sequel – and another called Finding Magic by Wo Li which each seemed to offer a different, but not necessarily opposing view on how witches and wizards came to have magic.
On the one hand, Flamel asserted that all magic originally came from certain breeds of magical creature such as Veela, Centaurs, Goblins and Giants which were able to breed with humans and thereby pass on their own innate magic to their part human offspring. Harry had been very disappointed to find that whatever 'Veela' were, they weren't a fantastic beast, but he still got the general idea.
Li on the other hand, talked about magic as being concentrated in a 'magical core' that apparently existed inside every witch, wizard and magical creature, but not, it was implied, insides muggles, cats, and dogs.
Harry personally felt that these ideas opened more questions than they actually answered, but after all the trouble Moon had gone to to find them, he didn't really want to demand more books on the subject.
On the other hand, The Healing Powers of Magic had quickly convinced Harry that he wasn't meant to be a healer. Although he'd made note of some of the simpler spelled to flush out curse residue, and heal bones and minor scrapes, two paragraphs into Chapter Two: Magical Diseases Harry had been well and truly out of his depth.
Yet the book which had most drastically effected Harry's life was one he had almost not gotten. It had the demeaning title What You Need to Know About the Magical World: Basics for Children and Harry had only decided to buy it after a particularly gruelling chapter on rune combinations in advanced charms had left him wanting something a little lighter so he could procrastinate in a productive way.
The book had been amazing! It had immediately told him to take out a subscription to the Daily Prophet and had gone on to explain the existence of the night bus as a suggested way for young muggleborns to get around. Furthermore, although the word 'muggleborn' had seemed fairly self-explanatory, the book had gone on to explain in great detail, the ideas and issues surrounding blood-purity, which Harry had barely been aware of after skimming the issue with Hagrid a year earlier. The book also offered the simple and straight forward breakdown of the Ministry that Harry had originally been looking for, and talked about Quidditch as a major interest of most young witches and wizards, something for which Harry would have been very grateful a year ago.
The result was that when Harry's second strangest birthday of all time rolled around, he had quite forgotten about his plans to retrieve his trunk from the cupboard under the stairs, and had been so distracted by the growing stacks of books under his bed, he hadn't even noticed the lack of communication from Ron and Hermione, let alone considered writing to them himself.