Posted: 8 April, 2010

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story that is recognisable from the Harry Potter books, movies, etc. Everything else however (eg. story plot, original characters, etc.) stems from my own imagination and belongs to me. No copyright infringement is intended and I am not profiting financially from this story in any way.

Chapter 13 - A Party and an Elf

Friday, 31 July, 1992

As Harry came down the stairs, Vernon was waiting at the bottom, face slightly red and moustache twitching. He most certainly did not like the fact that his nephew was frequently in and out the house, going off visiting his former convict godfather, but knew better now than to argue. The first time he had kept Harry from leaving, Sirius had shown up, highly worried. When he discovered Vernon Dursley had been 'holding his godson captive', he responded with punishment pranking. It had taken forty-eight hours for the green to fade from Vernon's hair. He'd taken off 'sick' from work and hidden in his room till it did. The man was much more accommodating about Harry's comings and goings now, fearful of a repeat punishment.

Still, that didn't mean he didn't give Harry a good telling off whenever he could, if only to sate his ego that he had some sort of power over the situation.

"Now, you listen here boy," the man grumbled as he reached the bottom step.

"Yes Uncle?"

"Today as you well know, is an important day," he said. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing Vernon wasn't talking about his birthday, as a caring uncle would. "The Masons are coming over for dinner. It could mean a big new order if things go right. And it better go right. I won't have any of your funny business messing it up."

He sighed. "I won't even be here."

"No you won't. And you'd best keep it that way. I don't want you returning to this house any earlier than nine o'clock, just to be on the safe side, is that clear?"

"Yes Uncle Vernon."

"Good," he nodded, glared one last time, barked, "And don't wear a hat in the house," and stomped off.

"I know what today is," a mocking voice called out once he was gone.

Harry looked over to the living room to see Dudley standing in the doorway. He was wearing a malicious smile.

"You've learnt the days of the week? Congratulations Dudley. That Smeltings must be something, to get anything through your thick scull."

Dudley scowled. "I meant it's your birthday," he said, then grinned meanly. "I bet your freak godfather and his ratty friend forgot too. Not like it's important."

"I very much doubt they've forgotten."

"Yeah, well," Dudley searched for something else to say, "your friends probably have, if you even have any."

"I have a very good friend, thank you very much."

"Yeah? One who doesn't even call you, or send you freaky owl letters?" Dudley said and Harry frowned, reminded of Dobby's interference. Dudley took this to mean he'd scored a hit however. "I knew it. No one'd want to be friends with a pathetic thing like you," he jeered, sneering at Harry, then returned to his television.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh that hurt," he said sarcastically under his breath, "because your opinion means so much to me. Not!"

Then he turned and headed out the door. When he reached the sidewalk, he made sure no one was looking and subtly drew his wand, waving it in front of him. He waited a moment until … *BANG!*. A purple triple-decker bus appeared on the road, screeching to a stop before him. Harry self-consciously pulled the cap he was wearing further down his head, making sure his scar was covered, as the bus doors were throw open.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for stranded witches an' wizards. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this afternoon," the pimply conductor said, and Harry stepped forward and gave the address for Sirius' London flat. "That'll be eleven Sickles, but for firteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot-water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice."

Harry pulled his money sack from his pocket and handed over eleven sickles. Then he boarded the bus, taking a bed near the back so as to avoid conversation with the chatty conductor. He didn't want to be fussed over if they realised he was Harry Potter, and he'd prefer not to have to lie about who he was like last time just to keep the conductor and driver in the dark. He still remembered claiming to be Neville Longbottom, when fleeing from the Dursleys after inflating Aunt Marge.

Five minutes and a very jostling ride later, the bus came once more to a screeching stop, and Stan called out his destination. Harry clambered up from where he'd been thrown back on the bed and made his way down the isle, bidding the conductor and driver farewell as he exited the bus. The doors snapped closed behind him, and with a *BANG!*, the bus was gone.

As he entered the building and walked across the lobby floor to the stairwell entrance, he gave the shiny elevator a wistful look. As part of Sirius' physical fitness routine, Healer Bennington had jinxed the building against Apparition, and then cast a Wizard Repelling Ward on the elevator, in order to force Sirius to use the stairs to reach his flat. His flat on the seventh floor!

Finally reaching the exit door labelled '7', a puffing Harry Potter reflected that he really ought to work on his own fitness. This sort of weakness would have gotten him killed in the war. Leaving the stairwell, he made his way down the corridor to the door labelled '7c'.

Sirius had made it clear the door was keyed to his signature, and he should always feel free to come on in. He placed his hand on the door knob and heard a click as the locks disengaged and it swung inwards. He squinted into the darkness within, wondering why all the windows had been blocked out and the lights turned off. He took a hesitant step forwards, reaching for his wand when suddenly …

"SURPRISE!" voices yelled, and the lights flickered on.

Harry reacted automatically, diving into a roll behind the cover of the sofa, then leaning over to point his wand out the side, aimed at the 'attackers'. He managed at the last second to stop himself from casting a spell as he took in the room properly.

Sirius, Remus and Neville were all dressed in party hats, and the room had been decorated with colourful streamers and balloons. The three were standing there, arms raised from their yelled greeting, looking at him strangely.

"Er …" he said, easing himself out from behind the sofa, "sorry about that." He tugged his ear in embarrassment. "You caught me by surprise."

"Merlin Harry, you looked like you expected an attack!" Sirius said, as they all lowered their arms.

Harry resisted the urge to wince. "Well what can I say? I have the reflexes of a- a … well something with really good reflexes."

"Cat?" Neville supplied, even as Remus said, "Seeker," and Sirius cried, "Ninja!"

He blinked. "Yeah, something like that." Then he paused, took in the room again, and a smile spread across his face. "Wait, this is- you've thrown me a birthday party!"

"Sure did kiddo," Sirius said smiling proudly. "Although, it's not much of a party with only three guests; you really need to make more friends."

"No- I mean maybe, yes, I could do with more friends- but I mean, well, I've never had a birthday party before." His grin widened. "This is brilliant!"

Upon hearing this was his first party, the other three looked torn between pity for him and anger at his relatives. He quickly changed the subject, not wanting to bring down the mood, by bouncing forward to give Neville a brisk hug, thumping his back before releasing him.

"Neville, how've you been? It's good to see you."

"You too Harry. And I've been good. I- I was a bit worried when I didn't get any mail from you and then I wondered if- if maybe-"

"Maybe I just didn't care to write you?" he asked knowingly and Neville's cheeks pinkened. He rolled his eyes in a way that said the other boy was being plainly ridiculous. "Don't be daft, of course I wrote. But my mail's being interfered with for some reason we can't figure out." He looked up at Remus. "We haven't figured it out right?"

"No. Not yet."

"I know that now," Neville hurried to say. "About the mail being taken, I mean. When Mr Black wrote me to invite me for today, he mentioned it, and then Mr Lupin explained it more when I turned up earlier."

"Good," he nodded. "Though I really want to know where it's all going. Anyway, back to the point: a party!"

"Yeah, happy birthday Harry!" Sirius cheered.

"Yes Harry," Remus said. "Congratulations on turning twelve."

"Happy Birthday," Neville also added. "I've brought you a present."

"Oh!" Harry said suddenly, looking up at Sirius. "Did that package I got you to owl order for me arrive yet?"

"It's in the hall closet. Moony even wrapped it for you. Hang on," the man said, hurrying over to the cupboard and pulling from within a brightly wrapped present. "Here," he said, handing it over to his godson.

"Thanks," he accepted the box, then turned to present it to Neville. "Here, for you."

"What?" the blond looked surprised.

"You didn't think I'd forgotten it was your birthday yesterday too did you?" he said, and his friend lit up. "I would've sent it to you but, like I said, my mail's being intercepted, so I didn't want to risk it."

"Thank you Harry!"

The rest of the afternoon and evening went well. It wasn't really much of a party, per se, given there were only four people, but they did have some fun. Plus, he got the chance to properly introduce Remus and Sirius to Neville and vice versa. Neville seemed a bit nervous around Sirius at first, but that eased as the man regaled him with tales and pranks of times gone by. He seemed instantly at ease with Remus however, which was understandable given the werewolf put off a mild, friendly, bookish vibe. In the other direction, once Neville left – his grandmother had ordered he return home by seven – Remus told him that Neville seemed like a very nice boy, whilst Sirius said he was a bit quiet, but had potential.

The rest of the evening was spent watching movies. Sirius had been awed with the progress television and cinema had made over the years. He'd previously only once watched a movie (at Lily's Muggle home many years ago) and had enjoyed it very much. He'd immediately, upon getting his new upscale London flat, gone out to buy a home entertainment centre, with much help from Remus who was the more Muggle-savvy of the two.

And so it was around nine thirty that Harry finally returned home. With all the fun and busyness of the day, he'd completely forgotten that something else significant was supposed to happen that day. He was abruptly reminded as he quietly sneaked up to his room, opened the door, and found a small being with bat-like ears and huge eyes, wearing a pillowcase, sitting on his bed.

He stared for a moment, before slowly closing the door.

"Hello," he said, "and who are you?"

"I is Dobby sir," the elf said, standing up to bow low before him. "Dobby the house-elf."

He tilted his head to the side. "And what's a house elf?"

"Oh, we is being wizard's servants sir. Bound to serve one house and family forever, we must do everything our master commands."

"So you're actually a slave?" he faked surprised disgust, even though this wasn't truly news to him.

"Yes sir," he nodded.

"Hmm, well what are you doing here? No offence, but I don't want a slave."

"Oh no sir. Dobby is here because … hmm, it is difficult sir, to explain."

Harry resisted the urge to offer him a seat. He knew that would only set the little guy off into wails about his kindness and likely wake his relatives. While he doubted they'd go so far as to lock him up this time – knowing that Sirius and Remus, two adult wizards, were looking out for him – they could still make things unpleasant.

"Just- just take your time then," he said encouragingly, then cursed his mistake as tears welled in great green eyes.

"T-take Dobby's time? Take Dobby's time!?" he cried, and Harry froze listening for sounds of his relatives waking. All was blessedly silent. "Oh, n-never has a wizard shown Dobby such kindness and patience! Dobby had heard tell that Harry Potter was great, but not that he had such goodness also."

He shifted awkwardly. "Erm thanks, but I'm really not that brilliant."

"Ah, and Harry Potter is also humble and modest," he said in awe. "It is truly Dobby's honour to be in your presence."

"Right." He decided to just let it go. "Well I'm … happy to be of service? Now perhaps you can tell me why you're here?"

"Dobby has come with a warning, to protect Harry Potter from harm, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later-"

"What?" he played ignorance. "Why would you do that?"

"Oh, as punishment sir. Dobby really should not be here. His masters would be most displeased Dobby is coming to see you. And to dare warn you … well, Dobby must punish himself most grievously. Yes, if masters knew, they would insist, if not punish Dobby themselves … but Dobby is being distracted sir. The reason I have come is this: Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."

Harry stared, wondering how to respond. The silence of the night was long and loud. Finally he spoke.

"I can't not go back to Hogwarts Dobby. It's where I belong."

"No, no, no," he squeaked, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. "Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."

"Why?"

"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"

"What terrible things?" Harry asked. "Who's plotting them?"

Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head frantically against the wall. Harry immediately jumped up and yanked him back. He held a hand over Dobby's mouth to silence him and listened intently. Next door, Vernon snorted in his sleep and rolled over, but seemed not to wake. He relaxed, releasing the house-elf.

"Okay, I get it. You can't say because your master wouldn't let you, and you have to punish yourself for even trying."

"Y-yes, that is it exactly, Harry Potter sir."

"Is there anything you can tell me?" he asked and Dobby looked thoughtful before slowly shaking his head. "Well, thank you for the warning."

"Harry Potter will stay away from Hogwarts?" the elf asked hopefully.

He shook his head, "No," he said, and Dobby drooped. "I'm sorry but I can't. And even if I tried, I wouldn't be allowed. I'm fairly sure the Ministry makes sure all students are being educated. Even if I wanted to stay here, they'd send me back anyway."

Dobby had drooped even further, and looked devastated. Harry suspected his words had convinced the elf that keeping him away from Hogwarts was not so simple a matter as Harry just deciding not to go. Or rather, he hoped they had, because he really didn't want to have to go through Dobby trying to 'save' him again.

"So Harry Potter must go," the elf said sadly, "and he will most surely perish. Dobby's efforts have been in vain."

Harry wanted to reassure the poor house-elf; he wanted to tell him that he knew of the threat and already planned to neutralise it. But he couldn't. With Dobby bonded to the Malfoys, it was just too dangerous. So instead he tried to reassure him.

"Look, Dobby, what if I promise to be extra careful? You've risked a lot to give me warning, and I really appreciate it. Because of you I know to be on the lookout."

Dobby's great green eyes became misty. "Oh, Harry Potter thinks too well of Dobby. Dobby is only wishing he could be doing more."

"You've done more than enough," Harry said kindly. "Now, you'd best get back home before you're missed."

And then Dobby swept him another bow, so deep his nose brushed his toes, then with a *pop*, he was gone.

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