Author's Note: Just a quick note here. Do you really think I would entitle an Abuse chapter with Purgatory? Please. I have more subtlety than that…I think.

A definite list of the Harem might be up next chapter. Should I put it up? Shouldn't I? Hmm…let's see….

Read and Review please!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.

"Harry" -Speech

'Ginny' -Thoughts

/Bill\ -Foreign/Non-human Language

Chapter 4: Return to Purgatory

Timeskip - Two Days Later

Living Room, Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Winging, Surrey

Albus Dumbledore sat on the squashy armchair he had conjured -much to the homeowner's fury- and gazed solemnly at the three members of the Dursley Family.

Vernon Dursley was a man verging on life-threatening obesity, with almost no neck, small piggy blue eyes and red hair that was fading into grey. He was currently glaring at Dumbledore with intense dislike.

Petunia, his wife, was a stick-thin woman with an extra long neck and a great resemblance to a horse when she pursed her lips, as she was currently doing. She was fiddling with her blond hair and her watery green eyes betrayed worry for her family.

Dudley Dursley was almost a carbon copy of his father, with his mother's blond hair. He was currently sitting as far away as was physically possible from Dumbledore, a terrified look on his face and he was, for some odd reason, clasping his bottom tightly with both hands as if he were afraid someone would steal it or something.

"I am very disappointed in you, Petunia." Dumbledore spoke for the first time since he entered the house, sorrow in his voice.

"We took in that…Freak!…just as you asked us to!" Vernon answered for his wife, an ugly sneer crossing his face.

"I ask you to take him into your home, yes, but I also asked you to treat him as your own." Dumbledore replied coldly.

"He's nothing like my Dudley!" Vernon said vehemently, "No freakish whelp is like Dudley!"

"That is very much beside the point, Mr Dursley." Dumbledore said severely, "Regardless of your feeling towards Harry, you have treated him like a bonded servant or slave, making do all of the household chores whilst he grew up and quashed any spurts of imagination he possessed. The first time I met Harry at my school, I knew all this and more had been done to him."

Dumbledore's pale blue eyes lost their usual grandfatherly twinkle and became cold chips of ice that bore into the Dursley family like lasers as he spoke.

"Now I find out that he was thrown into a cupboard for the first decade of his life and, just to top it off, that you imprisoned him in his new room -full of barely intact third-hand furniture no less- and fed him substandard food in inadequate amounts. Were it not for the fact Harry needs to live here for the Bond of Blood Charm I cast on him after his mother's sacrifice to work, I would remove him from here post-haste and have you all sent to prison for child abuse."

This broke Vernon out of his paralysis. "For what?! He's a freak!"

"He is a young boy who has endured much in his young life." Dumbledore replied firmly, "Had his friends not effected his escape, he might have starved to death or, at the very least, been forced to recover at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for an extended period of time. That is extreme child abuse in the eyes of the law, regardless of your opinion in the matter."

Vernon Dursley's face had been a brilliant puce at the start of the conversation, but the blood drained from his face very rapidly at the end of Dumbledore's lecture, giving him a complexion rather like badly mixed raspberry ripple ice cream.

"What do you want us to do?" Petunia asked quietly, making Vernon and Dumbledore look at her in amazement, "I told you that it was a bad idea Vernon. The Boy didn't have his…wand…when the pudding floated. I'm all for punishing him when he does something wrong or uses his freakishness, but he wasn't even halfway down the stairs when the pudding was floating in midair and most of…his kind…need to see something in order to affect it."

"Quite so." Dumbledore agreed, "Even accidental magic, the entirely unintentional magic performed by children, almost always takes place in the child's immediate vicinity and within their line of sight. Besides, I have the evidence proving Harry wasn't the actual individual responsible and will be clearing him of this offence at the Ministry after this meeting.

To answer your question, Petunia, I would like it if you would remove the locks on Harry's door. He is not to be a prisoner again. Next, it would be appreciated by my staff if you could allow him to have access to his schoolbooks as he does have summer homework to be doing while he is here."

"Fine." Vernon ground out, "Anything else?"

"I am going upstairs in a moment to transfigure Harry some better furniture. Do not throw it out, destroy it or give it to your son." Dumbledore said with a pleasant smile that didn't extend to his eyes, "Harry is to fed a decent amount of food at least three times a day and you will not attempt to physically assault him. This last condition applies especially to your son. Any breech of these conditions will be discovered swiftly and then, charm or no charm, I will carry out my previous threat. Am I understood?"

"Not like we have much of a choice, do we?" Vernon grumbled.

"Quite the contrary. You had the choice eleven years ago to treat Harry like your own flesh and blood. You simply chose to let your own sense of inadequacy, jealousy and pig-headed stubbornness rule you rather than any sense of common decency." Dumbledore replied as he stood, "I will only be a few minutes in Harry's room, then I shall trouble you with my presence no further until the day after Harry's birthday, barring any emergencies."

"Now see here, you promised us minimal contact!" Vernon protested.

"By taking Harry in, you promised in return to treat him well." Dumbledore returned pleasantly, "I am afraid the previous arrangement is on a slight hiatus until we are certain you will keep your word."

Vernon swelled up like a balloon about to burst before whirling on Dudley, "Dudders, we're going out for a drive. By the time we get back, this…gentleman…will be gone. Petunia dear, please stay to make sure he doesn't do any unnaturalness outside of The Boy's room."

"Of course dear." Petunia replied, "Dinky Duddykins, you have a nice time with your father, you hear? I'll make your favourite meal for dinner, so look forward to it."

"Thanks mum." Dudley grunted before he waddled out after his father, the door slamming shut after him.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. Petunia was spoiling that boy beyond all possible hope of recovery. He had been an educator for well over ninety years and had long since memorised the signs of overly spoilt children, the Malfoy scions being prime examples, especially young Draco.

He made his way up the stairs with Petunia in tow and into Harry's room. Tsking at the poor excuses for furniture in the room, the aged Headmaster closed the curtains with one of his rare uses of wandless and silent spells.

Drawing his wand from his robe pocket, Dumbledore eyed the furniture with scarce regard. Even if he transfigured what little furniture in the room, it would not last very long, as one of the facts of magic that had been established quite early on was that a transfigured item was limited by the initial condition of the original item, and these were far beyond fixing with a simple 'Reparo'.

"No, no, no. Starting over is far better." Dumbledore muttered and, with a wide sweep of his wand, Vanished the entirety of the contents of the room, even the carpet and wallpaper. He then proceeded to conjure a plush red carpet, red and gold wallpaper with lion rampant decals, a bed that bore remarkable similarity to Harry's own bed at Hogwarts, albeit a single bed rather than a four poster, a desk and chair, as well as a perch for Hedwig.

"There, that ought to last a couple of months." Dumbledore said in satisfaction as he re-pocketed his wand, "By that time I can acquire a set identical to this and simply swap them after Harry goes to Hogwarts."

"Is…is this the sort of furniture he has at that…school?" Petunia asked, eying the furniture in mistrust.

"Indeed." Dumbledore replied, "Hogwarts has had similarly designed beds, desks and chairs ever since its founding over a thousand years ago. On the rare occasion we have had to replace something completely, we employ a family of craftsmen to make them, a family who have done so ever since being asked to by the Founders."

"I…see…" Petunia looked uncomfortable, and then blurted out, "I tried to stop him, you know."

"Oh?" Dumbledore said neutrally.

"It's just, when Vernon gets that angry, he's nearly impossible to dissuade!" the sister of Lily Evans continued, "It was all I could do to persuade him that The Boy -Harry- should be fed, or there would be questions."

"Why did you not treat him better, Petunia?" Dumbledore asked, turning to face the woman slowly, "Why did you let Vernon run roughshod over your own nephew?"

"His eyes are exactly like Lily's." Petunia whispered, "We were so close once, then Magic took her from me…Magic and that Snape boy! Then she married Potter. Vernon was jealous of him, I could tell. Good looks, an easy manner and wealthy to boot…there was no way Vernon could compete with him.

That combined with his -our- aversion to everything not normal, made him…volatile…with Lily and James. When you left Harry with us…he saw it as a chance to make a freak normal and did everything he could to try and stamp out any trace of magic from him, possibly also as a way of taking revenge on James Potter for beating him at everything Vernon valued without even trying."

Dumbledore felt sick at this description of events that brought his poor sister Ariana sharply to the forefront of his mind, and the events that had destroyed his family all those years ago.

"Surely you managed to mitigate things somewhat?" he asked softly.

"Sometimes." Petunia confessed, "It was a promise Lily and I had, that if anything happened to one of us, we would look out for our family. Sometimes, I managed to manipulate the circumstances into a treat for Harry, like on Dudley's eleventh birthday. Other times…other times, I let my own selfish jealously for Lily get the better of me. His eyes…it's almost like Lily is looking out at me sometimes and that sets my jealousy off."

"You are fairly perceptive, Petunia." Dumbledore said quietly, "In a very real sense, she is always with Harry. Lily stood in front of the most evil wizard in fifty years and refused to let him get at her son unless he went through her first. Her willing sacrifice cast a protective charm on Harry that ultimately destroyed Voldemort's body when he attacked Harry. That protection lingers in Harry to this day, imbued into his skin, his very blood. As long as Harry lives, Lily Marie Evans Potter is not truly dead. She lives on within her son, protecting him even now."

Petunia began to sob as she listened, her memory of Lily as she had last seen her at her wedding to that Potter man coming to the forefront of her mind. Smiling, happy, exuberant and hopeful for the future. She had truly been radiant that day.

"I shall take my leave now, Petunia." Dumbledore told her, "All I ask of you now is that you remember your promise to Lily and do your utmost to protect Harry from your husband's maliciousness."

With that, he swept out of the room, leaving behind a crying, bitter woman who had been at war with her own bitterness and jealousy for over fifteen years.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Ten Minutes Later…

Improper Use of Magic Office, Level 2 of the British Ministry of Magic Building

"Ah, Mafalda. It is good to see you!" Dumbledore beamed at his former student.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir?!" The witch he was addressing looked taken aback by the sudden visit by the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot into her busy office.

Mafalda Hopkirk was a thin, wispy witch in her late thirties, with already greying hair done up in a tight bun and hazel eyes. She was wearing plain back robes over a skirt and a striped blouse.

"To what do I owe the unexpected visit, Professor?" Mafalda asked nervously.

"Mafalda, I haven't been your Headmaster in years." Dumbledore said genially, "Please, call me Albus. As to why I am here…shall we talk in you private office?"

"Certainly. This way." Mafalda led him to a moderately large office in the back of the section that was allocated to her staff. She sat down behind her desk and nervously offered him some tea.

"Certainly. Some Assam would be lovely if you have any." Dumbledore replied with a smile.

Mafalda nodded and tapped her wand on a cup, filling it with the strong black tea, which Dumbledore sipped with a pleased hum. He always enjoyed a spot of well-made tea while he was politicking, which made the ban on liquids in the Chamber of the Wizengamot an irritating matter.

"Now, to the reason I am here." Dumbledore said as he set the cup back on its saucer, "It is to my understanding that you sent a warning to Mr Harry Potter this summer past."

"Y-yes. For illegal underage casting of the Hover Charm." Mafalda replied nervously.

"Ah, now you see, there is, I'm afraid, a story behind that." Dumbledore said, "A House Elf infiltrated Mr Potter's residence and deliberately mimicked his magical signature in order to simultaneously get him into trouble with the Ministry and alert his guardians that he wasn't allowed to use magic at home."

The witch looked startled. "An elf? Is there any proof, save for Mr Potter's word on the matter?"

"Mr Potter has graciously given me his memory of the incident." Dumbledore said as he removed the crystal vial from his robe pocket.

"He's a minor though." Mafalda protested even as she pulled out the department's Pensieve.

"That particular law only applied to memories given in a criminal case, Mafalda." Dumbledore reminded her, "In a case such as this, of underage magic, you have sole discretion on the matter. I have verified it is a true memory and completely free of fabrication or alteration spells, so the ball is entirely in your court."

Mafalda hesitated before nodding. She uncorked the vial, poured the memory into the rune-encased bowl and then stuck her finger into the silvery liquid, vanishing into the bowl.

Dumbledore sat back and finished his tea while his former student viewed the memory. He had always liked Mafalda. She was nervous and followed the rules blindly most of the time, but she was fair. Her main weakness was that she had a tendency to follow orders from a superior regardless of the morality of the order or the potential consequences of it.

After a few moments, the Commander-In-Chief re-emerged from the Pensieve with a frown on her face.

"This had something to do with the Chamber of Secrets business that happened at Hogwarts, doesn't it?" Mafalda asked shrewdly.

"Dobby was bound to the family that I suspect was behind the plot." Dumbledore acknowledged, "As you saw, he was determined to protect Mr Potter from his bonded family's machinations, even although his solution was…less than helpful to Mr Potter."

"Yes, I surmised as much." Mafalda was lost in thought, before she returned to the present, "Well, this certainly proves Mr Potter wasn't responsible for the Hovering Charm. He in fact tried to stop it from being cast. I'll have a note dropped into his file here absolving him of the charge, another note sent to the DMLE main files clearing him of any wrongdoing and an official notice sent to him immediately."

"Wonderful." Dumbledore beamed at Mafalda happily, "Well, this has been a most productive morning for me. My thanks for the tea, it was most delicious. I should be getting back to Hogwarts now; there are a hundred and one things to sort out before the students return home."

"It must be hectic right now, especially with the clean up from the Chamber." Mafalda sympathised.

"Just so." Dumbledore sighed, "We were very lucky that no one was killed this time around and, thanks to Mr Potter, we will not have to worry about it ever happening again."

With that, Dumbledore strode out of the office with a casual wave to a rather perplexed Mafalda Hopkirk.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Timeskip - Last Day of Term

Great Hall, Hogwarts

Harry walked into the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione in tow. As was the norm, his two best friends were arguing about something, this time about Ron's bad habit of saying 'Bloody Hell!' whenever something happened that took him off guard.

("Hermione, when I'm surprised, I just say Bloody Hell. What in Merlin's name is wrong with that?"

"It's impolite, that's what it is! Your mother would Scourgify your mouth out if she knew you said that so much, Ronald."

"Don't call me Ronald!")

The last week of term had been very restful, what with the exams being cancelled as a school treat. They still had classes, but it was far easier just to review their work rather than furiously practice and revise for exams. DADA was a free period because the teacher (read: idiotic teacher impersonator) was absent, which most took to use as a relaxing period.

He, on the other hand, had used the recent free periods to do spell research, teach Ginny the First Year spells she should have learned in DADA, as well as a few extra ones to be safe. He had also used the time to read his statement from Gringotts, which proved…illuminating.

If the statement on his various Vaults were to be believed, he was as rich as Midas, or rather, he would be upon his majority. Discounting Vault 687, his school Trust Vault, he had seven Vaults. One had formerly belonged to his mother, Lily Evans, one was the Main Potter Vault, one was the Potter Heirloom and Artefacts Vault and one had been his Father's personal Vault. The remaining three Vaults, and their contents, had apparently been left to him in their wills by three very grateful people after his defeat of Voldemort.

In addition, he had discovered that he owned shares in several companies that were spread across the board, from Gladrags Wizardwear Group Limited to Zonkos Joke Shop.

'Definitely have to owl Rockclaw with a list of recommendations on what to do with some of these stocks and investments.' Harry thought idly as he made his friends stop arguing and sit down.

"The Slytherins looks dead sour over there." Ron muttered to Harry in an undertone. It was true. Several members of the House of Cunning were giving the red and gold banners hanging from the ceiling, indicating a Gryffindor victory in the House Cup, a very sour and jaded look.

Notably, Draco Malfoy was glaring at the banners with such distaste that Harry was mildly surprised that the banners didn't spontaneously combust.

"Not really a surprise." Harry replied just as quietly so only Ron and Hermione could hear him, "Mine and Ron's four hundred points meant that Slytherin got left in the dust. Didn't really stand a chance, if you consider they were in second place behind us to begin with. Add in four hundred points and that's all she wrote."

"That's all who wrote?" Ron asked.

"It's a muggle expression." Hermione said with a sigh, "What Harry means that Slytherin never stood a chance once you got awarded those points."

"Oh. Why didn't he just say so then?" Ron asked, slightly bemused.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a shared look of mingled exasperation and fondness for Ron, but before they could reply, Professor Dumbledore stood up and raised his hands in a gesture for silence.

"Silence please." he said with that grandfatherly twinkle alight in his eyes, "Well now, here we are at the end of another year. And what a year it has been. Let us have a round of applause for Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout, whose Mandrake Restoration Draught was so successfully administered to all of the victims of petrifaction."

A rousing cheer erupted from three of the four tables, with polite applause from about a third of the last table. Three guesses which tables did what.

Pomona Sprout and Poppy Pomfrey blushed at the attention given to them. Herbology and Healing were rarely in the limelight, taking the back seat to the flashier branches of magic like Charms, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts, so the two women were unused to being cheered like champions.

Once the applause died down, Dumbledore continued, "The events of this year have been stressful and traumatic for us all, none more so than those who were petrified, as well as those who are close to them. Anyone who wishes to have a referral to see a councillor, please see your Head of House after the feast. With that, let the Leaving Feast begin!"

Once the plates filled up with the usual delicious food served by Hogwarts, Ron eagerly began his usual Welcoming/Leaving Feast occupation of trying to empty the kitchens of all food and drink single-handedly.

Hermione went 'tsked' under her breath as she ate in a far more sedate and dignified manner than her redheaded friend did. Harry smiled at the exact opposite attitudes to eating that his friends showed as he tucked in himself.

After the feast, they took the carriages down to the Hogwarts Express, the scarlet engine gleaming in the sunlight. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the Weasley twins claimed a compartment to themselves and enjoyed the last (legal) time they would be allowed to use magic until the next term.

"Expelliarmus!" Ginny fired a scarlet jet of light at Hermione, disarming her.

"Ginny, where the bloody hell did you learn the Disarming Charm?" Ron asked in amazement.

"Harry taught me it." Ginny said with a mild blush, "He's a really good teacher, you know?"

"Ah, Ickle Harrykins-" one twin said.

"-your talents just seem to keep growing." the other twin said, "Wiping teacher's memories-"

"-hexing that git Malfoy-"

"-slaying Basilisks-"

"-saving damsels in distress-"

"-and now teaching our dear little sister what that ponce Lockhart should have been teaching her." concluded a twin that Harry was reasonably certain was Fred, "What will you do for an encore?"

"Merlin knows." Harry said, "But don't look now - we seem to have some bad faith approaching us."

While the Weasley's looked mildly confused, Hermione cottoned on, drawing her wand surreptitiously. Right after that, the compartment door slammed open, revealing a thoroughly pissed off Malfoy, flanked by his trolls, pardon me, friends, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Go away Malfoy." Harry said without skipping a beat, "I don't feel like hexing you unconscious right now, so if you don't get lost, I'll let my friends handle you and your boyfriends."

Malfoy turned red in either rage or humiliation at both the dismissal and the insinuation that he was homosexual.

"I am not gay, Potter!" Malfoy snarled, "How dare you accuse me of such shameful and dishonourable practices!"

"Homophobic Malfoy?" Hermione said with a raised eyebrow, "How predictable."

"Shut up, Mudblood!" Draco snapped angrily at Hermione.

"Mucus ad Nauseum Maxima!" two voices snapped out loudly, rocking Malfoy back with a pair of sickly green jets of light from both Harry and Ginny's wands.

"ACHOOO!" Malfoy sneezed a gallon of snot all over Crabbe, while Goyle tried to draw his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione cried, disarming the slow Slytherin and then followed up with "Incarcerous!", wrapping Goyle up like a mummy in ropes, the large boy overbalancing onto the floor with a loud thud.

"I'll ged you for dis, Podder!" Malfoy snarled thickly through his newly acquired severe cold, "And your little drollop do!"

Harry's face froze into a set expression of anger before he snarled, "Melofors Magnus!"

An orange jet of light struck Malfoy, who found his head encased in a very, very large pumpkin that had a jack-o'-lantern face cut into the front, but not enough to allow Malfoy to see out through it. The muffled shrieks coming from within the pumpkin indicated that Malfoy was not taking his new head ornament well. He stumbled out into the corridor, bumping into the walls as he fled.

Crabbe, covered in snot, reached down, grabbed Goyle by the foot and dragged him after Malfoy. Harry walked over and slammed the door shut, then pointed his wand at it and said, "Colloportus", sealing the door shut.

"H-Harry…did…did you teach Ginny the more powerful version of the Curse of the Bogies?" Ron asked in a quavering voice, his face slightly pale.

"Yep. She took to the basic version of the spell like a duck to water, so I taught her the more powerful version." Harry replied, "Her version is actually more powerful than mine, so I think she has an affinity for curses, jinxes and hexes with humiliating consequences to the target."

"Ron, don't you dare teach her the Slug Vomiting Charm!" Fred ordered Ron hastily, George nodding rapidly in agreement.

"Spoilsports." Ginny pouted slightly at them.

"Harry, what was that last spell you used?" Hermione asked.

"Hmm? Oh, that was a modified version of the Melofors, or Pumpkin Head, Jinx." Harry replied as he retook his seat, "The regular one encases the target's head in a medium sized pumpkin. The powered up version encases the target's head in an extra large variety of pumpkin and adds the carving on the face area. I've actually been looking for an excuse to try that one on Malfoy since I learned the basic version last week."

"Of all the times for my wand to have been blown up!" Ron cursed in disgust, "Bloody Lockhart!"

"Ronald!" Hermione scolded.

"If you want Ron, I can pay for a new one." Harry offered, "It was kind of my fault that it got broken in the first place."

Ron flushed. "No mate, it's fine. Mum would throw a fit if I accepted."

This made Harry frown in mild confusion, before he recalled the amount of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts that the Weasley's had had in their Vault prior to the school year, a small pile of Sickles and a single Galleon. Being poor, he knew from experience, made people prideful and touchy about being offered charity.

He would have to think about this for a while, as something in his mind was niggling at him, something he had read recently but couldn't quite recall. He resolved to read his books again to find out what he was forgetting.

Outwardly, he said, "Fine mate, but the offer's still there."

Fred decided to break things up by challenging everyone to a game of Exploding Snap, which was accepted by all. Several games and singed eyebrows later, a thought occurred to Harry.

"Ginny, why did Percy shut you up that time at lunch? He looked very nervous." he asked.

Ginny giggled and grinned. "Percy's got a girlfriend." she replied, causing everyone in the compartment to look at her in shock. Fred even dropped a stack of books he had been putting into a trunk on top of his twin's head.

"Percy? As in, our stuck-up, no-nonsense, 'Rules-mean-more-to-me-than-life-itself' elder brother?" George asked incredulously.

"Yup." Ginny replied, clearly relishing the chance to one-up her brothers by telling them something they didn't know, "She's that Ravenclaw Prefect, Penelope Clearwater. That's who he was writing to all summer, who he probably met in Diagon Ally when we were getting our school things and who he's been meeting all over the castle in secret. I walked in on them snogging in an empty classroom one day. That's why he was so upset when she was attacked."

Fred and George simultaneously smacked each other on the back of their heads and started bemoaning the possible pranking opportunities that had been missed that school year.

"You won't tease him, will you?" Ginny asked anxiously.

The twins assured her that they wouldn't, but the expressions of evil planning they had on their faces while they did so made it the most unconvincing spectacle the rest of the compartment had ever seen.

Far too soon for Harry's liking, the train stopped at Platform 9 ¾. Harry, having changed into his usual cast-offs from Dudley, pulled out two pieces of parchment with a series of numbers on them.

"This is called a telephone number." he informed Ron as he gave one to him and Hermione, "I talked your dad through using one last summer, so he should know how to use one. If he can't remember, owl me and I'll send a step-by-step guide. I do not only want to have only the Dursley's to speak to this summer."

"You'll be going to the Ministry for Hagrid's acquittal though." Hermione pointed out as she tucked the parchment into her jean's pocket.

"Not quite the same as talking to my best friends, 'Mione." Harry replied wryly, "That will be an interrogation under Veritaserum, meaning people will be talking at me, rather than with me."

Hermione blushed, but continued, "I'll let you know if I find a way out of your…problem…for you."

"Hermione, just give up on that already." Ron said in exasperation. She had told the both of them about the Founder's Amendment to the B.L.C.A. last week and Ron had been trying to reason with her ever since, "Merlin was the most brilliant wizard to live after the Founders. There is no way he left a loophole that could be exploited so easily."

"I am not going to surrender to an archaic and disgusting law like this one Ron!" Hermione snapped, "It utterly boggles the mind that no one has done anything about it before now!"

"It utterly what?" Ron asked in confusion as they headed towards the gate back to the Muggle part of Kings Cross

"She's baffled as to why no one has done anything about it before." Harry translated for him.

"Oh. Why didn't she just say that then?" the redhead asked.

"Because I have a large vocabulary, Ronald." Hermione sniffed.

"Don't call me Ronald!" Ron shot back, "And mate, how the hell do you know what Hermione was talking about?"

"No friends in Primary School." Harry shrugged, "Dudley kept anyone and everyone away from me, so I spent most of my breaks and lunchtimes either running away from Dudley's gang or sitting reading. I was really bored one day, so I read a dictionary."

Hermione felt a twinge of sympathy for Harry, as her Pre-Hogwarts school life was frighteningly similar to that, except that it had been her own intellect that kept most people away from her and drawn bullies to her.

She put a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze as a show of support, making Harry smile back at her.

"Anyway Harry," Hermione decided a subject change was in order, "I expect your Aunt and Uncle will be proud of you, won't they?"

Harry snorted. "After all the times I could have died this year and somehow managed to wriggle my way out of it? Are you mad? They'll be furious and disappointed, that's what they'll be…"

Just then, the guard waved them through the gate, so they walked back into the Muggle world. The first person they saw was Mrs Weasley fussing over Ginny, while Fred, George and Percy watched in amusement from the sidelines.

"Harry dear!" Molly called as she spotted him, swiftly giving him one of her patented hugs, "How are you? You really should eat more, dear. You're all skin and bones!"

"A regular scrawny git he is." Ron nodded in agreement, earning him a glare from said 'scrawny git'.

"Hermione, you look lovely." Mrs Weasley turned her attention to the final member of the trio, "Have you fully recovered from your…illness?"

She was speaking circumspectly in the station full of Muggles, as well as Ginny being nearby. Hermione smiled back at the Weasley Matriarch.

"I'm fine, Mrs Weasley. A complete recovery." she replied, slightly touched that Molly had asked after her, "Oh! There's my parents, I'd better go. Remember and owl me you two!"

"Yes ma'am!" Harry mock saluted her as she ran over to her parents, who had looked on in amusement as their daughter interacted with her friends.

"Uh-oh, Harry. Don't look now, but you're in trouble." Ron said, nodding at the red-faced Vernon Dursley who stood impatiently waiting for Harry.

"Guess I'd better go." Harry muttered, withdrawing slightly into himself and moving towards his uncle with his trolley. Vernon snorted and turned around, walking away at a brisk pace that made his distended and obese stomach wobble like a mound of jelly.

Mrs Weasley looked at his retreating back and frowned. "I certainly hope those Muggles take care of him. The poor dear always looked worse for wear after getting away from them last summer."

"Harry got Dumbledore to go over and give them a talking to." Ron said with a wicked grin. He felt absolutely no sympathy to people who would willingly starve his best mate and hoped those awful Muggles got transfigured into cockroaches or something.

"Did he?" Molly was surprised, "Well, good for him. I hope they paid attention, otherwise I'll be sending a Howler to those Muggles, you see if I don't."

The Weasley children shivered, Ron, Fred and George especially. A Howler was one of the worst things a Hogwarts student could receive, an audible letter of someone -usually a parent- shouting at the top of their voice at someone, magically magnified to a hundred times their normal volume.

"Well, we'd best be going. Arthur has an announcement to make, although I'm not sure what." Molly said as she began to chivvy her bevy of children towards the station exit.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

The Next Day…

Number 4 Privet Drive

Harry was in mild shock. He had been expecting to be bellowed at for fleeing with the Weasley's last summer, possibly even confined to his room for a while.

Instead, Uncle Vernon and Dudley seemed to be bending all of their (limited) brainpower into finding ways to stay as far away from him as was physically possible, ignoring him unless it was at the table and even then it was strictly things like 'pass the butter'.

Shockingly, Aunt Petunia was making a significant effort to be pleasant, or at least bearable, to Harry. She had shown him the newly transformed bedroom and explained that it was all magically created, or as she called it, 'made out of nothing'.

Hedwig was allowed out of her cage as long as Harry kept her indoors during the day and only sent letters at night, which delighted both Harry and his beautiful Snowy owl, who hated the cage with a passion.

All in all, life in Privet Drive was at an all time high compared to the first eleven-odd years Harry had been residing there, which made Harry make a mental note not to make Dumbledore irritated with him. If he could make the ever intractable and stubborn Dursley's treat him with something approaching decency, there was no telling what could be done to Harry if Dumbledore felt the need to take issue with him over something.

"Well Hedwig," Harry muttered to his pet and friend as he gently stroked her feathers, "Looks like life here is promoted from pure Hell to just Purgatory."

It was true. No matter how the Dursley's treated him, Harry loved the Magical World too much to truly feel at home in the middle of Muggle suburbia. The Burrow, home of the Weasley's, felt far much more like home to him than Number 4 did. He lived at the Weasley's, whereas he merely existed at Number 4, so Purgatory was an apt synonym for how he lived here.

Harry crossed over to his trunk and pulled out one of the books Dumbledore had given him, 'Who rule's the Roost? The Duties of a Head of House', and began flicking through it, hoping something would jar his memory in it.

He turned to the chapter entitled 'Life Debts: Honour without Rest' and grinned. He had found it!

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Next Chapter: Hermione's Trials

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP