Harry got a letter on the second of August. A letter that contained his exam scores and the book list required for the coming school year. The poor old owl that had delivered the letter was thoroughly exhausted when it reached him in Afghanistan. He settled it on the saddle horn, letting Sif ride on his shoulder, and headed towards the nearest magical settlement. The map he'd bought of magical sites around the world was very useful, as was the compass he'd bought before even entering the desert. In the magical district of Fayazabad, he did a bit of shopping (though none of the books on the book list were purchased. He had the full set of The Standard Book of Spells, and had no interest in wasting money on a full set of the works of Gilderoy Lockhart – he'd looked through one of his books the first time he was in Diagon Alley and had not been impressed), and in particular he purchased a bird-standard portkey that would take the delivery owl back to England.

For himself? Well, it was only another week to a city with an airport, and once he reached it he'd sell his camel. It had been a good camel, and honestly he'd grown rather fond of it (whatever Tony Stark had to say about the uncomfortable rocking or the smell), but it really wasn't at all sensible to try and take it back to the UK with him. It would be absolutely miserable in the cold for one thing. It would be an absolute bugger to get through customs for another.

Once he (and Sif) were back in England, Harry had pulled out his little address book and opened it to the T section. Thomas, Dean was the only entry there, and Harry made his way to the nearest public phone to give his friend a call. He had said Harry should call him when he got back from his holiday adventures, come for a visit, meet the family and all that.

One phone call later, and Harry was on his way to Westminster, where Dean's family lived. He only stayed over with his friend one night though. Dean's younger half-siblings were quite lively enough without the excitement of Christmas upon them (so were the family's terrier dogs for that matter). Dean had laughed at Harry as he'd said goodbye and promised to see him on the Express on the first.

Harry had stopped by a stationers for some envelopes and a few sheets of loose paper, wrote off a few quick letters to let Lee, the twins, Neville and Hermione know that he was back from his latest adventures, but to not bother with sending him owls as he'd see them all soon enough. That done, he bought a stamp and mailed Hermione's letter before heading to Diagon Alley to send the other letters by owl.

Since he was in the alley, Harry saw to a few other things he'd been meaning to. He went back to the optometrist to make sure that his prescription was still good. It wasn't. He needed his lenses changed. Since the enchantments were in the frames, however, that wasn't a problem.

With that sorted out, Harry went to the goblins to see about the tracking spells they had removed from the cloak that had apparently belonged to his father. He'd given it to them at the beginning of the holidays, left them coin, and they had promised to put the cloak in his vault when they were done removing the spells and investigating the matter.

The goblins were quite upset to learn that someone other than them had been holding onto anything that belonged to Harry's parents. It should all have been in the family vault unless Harry himself had withdrawn it.

… Or it had been stolen from the house in Godric's Hollow before the goblins had arrived to collect all the valuables up for placement in the family vault. They'd collected books, jewellery, little handmade glass statues, paintings, undamaged furniture, kitchen goods, and of course the Potter's wands... but they either hadn't known about this cloak to notice that they hadn't collected it, or the goblin who should have collected it had lied about having done so.

That called for an investigation once the ritual to remove the unwanted spells was conducted. It turned up that a goblin had lied about collecting it, rather than the goblins not knowing about the valuable invisibility cloak. A bribe had been paid to this goblin for his lie. A hefty bribe, paid by one Albus Dumbledore.

The goblin was executed and his personal assets split between the bank he had betrayed and the customer who he had broken trust with – the greater portion going to the bank, of course.

Harry thanked them sincerely for all the efforts they had taken in his absence, paid a little more gold (since they had done more than the initial fee had covered), and ultimately decided to leave the original invisibility cloak from the tale of the three Peverell brothers (they'd confirmed that too) in his vault. For now.

~oOo~

"Harry Potter must not go to Hoggy-Warts!" a small creature with big eyes and floppy ears insisted as Harry skinned a rabbit that Sif had caught. Sif immediately dive-bombed the thing, pinning it to the ground beneath her claws. Harry recognised it as a house elf, though it wasn't as clean as any of the house elves in the Hogwarts kitchens were.

Harry had set himself up in a field again, a different one to the August before his first year, but a field with rabbits, pheasants and other such all the same, and he did the skinning and gutting of the animals outside of his trunk. Sif could chow on the entrails as she liked, and if Harry wanted the skins or the feathers for anything he'd collect them up before he headed in. He just didn't do the task inside his trunk. He didn't fancy having to live with the smell, after all.

"Why?" he asked the elf as he carefully collected Sif from on top of it and moved her to his shoulder. "And for that matter, who are you and who is your master?"

"The Great Harry Potter asks Dobby's name!" the elf cried happily. "Dobby knew Harry Potter was great, but to ask the name of a lowly house elf!"

Harry sighed, and waited out the raptures of the little creature. The elves at Hogwarts weren't nearly so excitable, but they still took even little compliments to be very big things.

"Why must I not go to Hogwarts Dobby?" Harry asked again. "And who is your master?"

"Dobby cannot say!" the elf wailed. "He is a bad elf and must be punished!"

Harry sighed again and waited for the elf to stop banging his head on the ground. So one of his questions at least, Dobby couldn't answer. Now it was a matter of figuring out whichof his questions was the problem.

"Dobby," Harry said firmly once the elf had finished trying to concuss itself. "Why must I not go to Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Harry Potter will be in danger!" Dobby answered earnestly.

Harry stared at the elf and resisted the urge to sigh a third time. "From explosions in Potions class?" he guessed. "Always a hazard. Perhaps from the carnivorous plants in Herbology?" he suggested. "Though I'm fairly sure we don't get onto those until third year. Maybe from my fellow students? There is that little trio in Slytherin who like to pick on the kids who weren't raised in magical households, but they haven't really bothered me at all."

Well, there was some name-calling at first, but he just ignored it, and they gave up when they didn't get a rise out of him.

Dobby wrung his ears in his bony little hands and fidgeted nervously.

"Really, I appreciate the warning Dobby," Harry said, "but I will still be going to Hogwarts on the first of September. Even if I have to walk to get there," he added solemnly.

"But Great Harry Potter must be kept safe!" Dobby objected, near tears.

"I do, in fact, value my happiness just as highly as I value my safety, Dobby," Harry said, as kindly as he could, "and I would be happy to see my friends at Hogwarts, even if that put my life at risk. Better a life that is short but happy than one that is long but unhappy."

Dobby wilted where he stood, and sniffled. "Dobby understands," he said sadly. "Dobby hopes that the Great Harry Potter will be safe and happy though," he added, and then he popped away.

"I hope so too, Dobby," Harry murmured to himself, a small wistful smile on his face. "I hope so too."

~oOo~

As a second year, Harry was now permitted to own his own broomstick that had been enchanted for flight. Flying lessons were part of the second year timetable, which they had not been for first years. Didn't want to tempt the firsties, or some such. It also meant that those who were keen on flying could buy and bring their own brooms and learn on them, and those who weren't keen on flying could learn on the school brooms, which were loaded with safety spells, couldn't go faster than a walking pace, and wouldn't go higher than five feet off the ground.

Harry wasn't sure about the whole thing. Certainly he liked the idea of flying, but he wasn't so sure about having a length of wood between his legs being the thing that held him aloft. Frankly, it looked painful. Magic carpets, on the other hand, had looked really comfortable when he'd seen a few for sale in Afghanistan. They hadn't looked very tasteful, which had kept him from buying one, but they'd looked a good deal more comfortable. Still, he'd gone to the shop that sold broomsticks on the absolutely last day of August, at which point all the school-shoppers were either finished or frantic, and had a look around.

Harry looked at a broom that had 'Cleansweep 7' written on the handle, one of several on display – there being a five and a six sharing the same rack, while there were brooms with 'Comet 260' written on them, and further along there were brooms with 'Twigger 90', 'Nimbus 2000' and 'Nimbus 2001' on the handles. Harry pulled a face as he looked at them. They all still looked dreadfully uncomfortable to him.

The shop clerk must have seen him pull that face though, as he chuckled.

"Had a tumble from one have you?" he asked.

"Never been on one that I can remember," Harry answered as he turned from the brooms to face the man. "They all look uncomfortable though," he said, hoping that such a comment would induce the man to provide information on his stock.

The man smiled widely. "That was true enough, once," he agreed, "so it was only witches could ride them for a long while, but that was before a clever wizard figured out how to do built-in cushioning charms, so us male riders could have a comfortable seat as well."

"Oh," Harry said softly as he nodded along in appreciation of this information. "Alright then. What do you recommend for a first-time flyer? I'm not sure how much I'll actually end up liking flying, but I know I like the idea of it."

The shopkeeper nodded and moved to take a broomstick with 'Comet 260' off the rack. "The Comet Trading Company were the first ones to figure out breaking spells for their brooms, and they'll give you good speed and manoeuvrability, but you'll probably want to trade up in a year or two," he explained. "Of course, next year," he looked covertly around the shop and leant in to whisper, "I'll be getting in something that will leave everything I've got in stock right now in the dust. Even the Nimbus 2001, which is a big hit with the quidditch teams."

Harry chuckled in appreciation of the information.

"So you take a year to get the hang of flying on something like this," the man said as he straightened up, "and then next year you'll really be ready for the brooms that will see you going from the top end of Scotland to the bottom end of England in no more than three hours. Or," he allowed, setting the Comet 260 back on the shelf and taking the Nimbus 2001 instead, "you could go straight into a good broom that will take care of you for a good ten years, easy. And who knows what the broomstick companies will come up with in that amount of time," he pointed out with a smile.

Harry smiled back. "I think I'll go with the Nimbus," he decided. Of all the uncomfortable-looking brooms that were available to him, the Nimbus 2001 looked the smoothest and... leastuncomfortable option. If it also had spells on it so that it actually was comfortable to ride, then all the better. If he decided he really liked flying, then maybe he'd get this broomstick that was going to come out next year that would go stupidly fast. Maybe.

~oOo~

"Huh," Harry said softly as he looked at the strange winged horses that were pulling the coaches, but he shook his head and climbed in without making any further comment.

"Oh I'm so excited!" Hermione exclaimed as she was practically vibrating in place where she sat between Dean and Lee – Harry took the last seat available between Fred (he was fairly sure he could tell them apart now) and the wall of the carriage. "To think! Gilderoy Lockhart is going to be our Defence teacher this year!"

Harry saw Lee, Dean, and Neville (who were all on the opposite side of the carriage) all roll their eyes, and was fairly sure the twins next to him had as well. Hermione had said exactly the same thing at intervals of approximately one hour throughout the train ride to the castle. She'd interrupted Harry's, Lee's, and the Twin's tales of what they'd gotten up to during their holidays with that rapturous exclamation. Dean and Neville had escaped being interrupted by having kept their holiday stories short enough that Hermione didn't have the chance to interrupt them. Even out of the blue as they were sharing a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans – Hermione had just pronounced her bean as being peppermint, and then swooned over Gilderoy Lockhart being their professor.

When Hermione had left them to change into her robes, the boys had all agreed: self-study for that subject and either re-selling Lockhart's books or indulging in burning them at the end of the year when it was guaranteed they wouldn't need to be referenced for any homework assignments the twit might hand out. It was also agreed that they wouldn't be informing Hermione of this plan. She would almost certainly get defensive of the fop and his ridiculous books.

After all, she hadn't even blinked when Harry had said he was in Afghanistan and had rescued an American from the desert after he'd blown himself up to escape his kidnappers. She would normally have gone off at him about a) being in Afghanistan, b) travelling in the desert alone, c) being anywhere near an explosion and d) being anywhere near people who kidnapped people. She didn't though. She was deep in la-la land with the prospect of learning from Gilderoy Lockhart. It was somewhat nauseating, actually.

~oOo~

At breakfast on the very first day of classes, Harry received a letter from Tony Stark, via the school's 'muggle re-rout' address, which was there to be given to non-magical friends – as only witches, wizards and any non-magical family were permitted to know the truth of magic, and no, that did not extend beyond immediate family, as in, members of the same households.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, craning her neck to read over his shoulder.

Harry immediately reacted by removing it from her sight. "Mail," he answered, giving her an incredulous look. "Private correspondence. Not a textbook to be shared around."

Hermione blushed and ducked back. "Sorry," she said. "It's just... you spent a good portion of the beginning of last year telling your fans to stop writing to you, and when they did you only got Gringotts mail after that... But you looked happy to get this letter," she explained.

Harry sighed. "I don't mind if you're curious," he told her, "but I don't read your mail over your shoulder. I would appreciate the same courtesy."

Hermione nodded quickly. "Of course Harry," she agreed. "I really am sorry. I just..."

"You have a vice?" Dean suggested with a grin. "Curiosity killed the cat, Hermione."

"Satisfaction brought it back," Hermione immediately answered, but then sighed. "Yes," she agreed. "Just call me Alice," she said, and rolled her eyes. "And I will look at the world around me and declare 'curiouser and curiouser'," she finished with a smile.

"Why would we call you Alice?" Fred asked as he buttered his toast across the table.

Harry, Hermione and Dean all exchanged glances, the silent exchange concluding that it would be up to Harry to answer.

"It's a literature reference," he started. "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and Through the Looking Glass are classics that just about every kid, er, every muggle kid in the UK gets to read at some point before they're ten," he explained.

"And if they don't read them, then there are videos," Dean added.

All four of the boys who had grown up in magical households frowned in confusion.

"What's 'videos'?" Lee asked.

Dean stared at Lee for a few seconds before he abruptly dropped his head to the table-top and started gently banging his head against the wood.

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and dragged him upright again, forcing him to stop. "That won't do any good," she reminded him pertly. "I'll write to my parents and see if they'd be agreeable to having you all over for Christmas hols. You can all get a crash-course in how the other eighty- to ninety-percent of the world's population lives without magic, and I'll show you all what videos are."

"I'll skip the globe-trotting this Christmas then," Harry said with a smile. "If you get permission from your parents, of course."

Hermione perked up happily.

"And you three can come stay with me for a week or two over the summer break," Lee countered with a grin. "Learn what it's like to live in a magical household. A normal one," he added with a joking but pointed look at the twins. "Not one that looks like it should be falling over like these berks live in. Not meaning you, Neville, of course."

Neville just shrugged. "Gran isn't really the sort for visitors unless it's formal dining. None taken," he answered.

"August after the letters come?" Harry suggested absently as he opened his letter at last – content that there would be no reading over his shoulder this time – and started to scan the printed pages with their tidy little black letters and interesting diagrams and equations spread through. Those would take a second (and possibly third), more in-depth reading than he was giving the letter at that moment. "We could meet up in the alley, do the school shopping, and then all just follow you home."

Lee nodded. "Sounds good," he agreed.

What it sounded like was planning well in advance of the holidays. It was their first day back and they were already looking forward to the holidays!