Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, except Luke and David. The rest belong to JK Rowling. So there.

Author's Note: This chapter is a bit shorter than the first because it doesn't follow the narrative of the book so much, and because you all already know about magic, so I don't have to explain things. Hopefully I'll update more regularly now that I've got going.

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the slightly rusted number three on the Campbells' front door; it crept into their living room, where David sat in an armchair watching TV with his mouth wide open. The photographs on the mantelpiece showed just how much time had passed since Harry had been left with his aunt and uncle. Ten years ago, the photos were all of David and his friends, and a few of him as a child, whereas now Luke was older, and the photos showed a brown-haired boy riding his first broomstick, watching his first Quidditch match, playing Gobstones with his dad.

"Dad!" Luke Campbell exclaimed as he entered the room. "Guess what?"

"What?" David said, sounding surprised to have been interrupted.

"I just saw Harry Potter! He's outside getting into the car!"

David sighed. "Yes, alright. He's lived there for at least nine years now- you don't have to tell me every little thing he does."

"Yeah, but he never goes outside, does he? I hardly ever see him."

David smiled at his son. "Alright. Now, have you had breakfast?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Okay, go and get your shoes on. We're going to go and see Arabella today."

"Oh do we have to, Dad?"

David looked apologetic. "She's broken her leg- we've got to go and check up on her."

"But she's boring! And she smells of Kneazles. Please, Dad?" Luke whined, but David was insistent.

"She's an old lady, Luke. We ought to look after her."

Luke did not protest any more, but looked rather disgruntled as he went to put his shoes on. David looked out of the window as he turned the television off. The Dursleys, Harry Potter, and another rather scrawny looking boy were leaving number four and heading to the car. He rose from the chair, and ushered Luke out of the front door. Luke looked like he was struggling to say something, but eventually seemed to overcome his fear and said "You're Harry Potter!"

The smallest and skinniest of the boys next door turned, surprised, to look at them. Vernon Dursley grabbed him and forced him into the car, slamming the door behind him.

"Stay. Away. From. Us!" Vernon hissed, glaring at David and Luke.

David put his hand on Luke's shoulder. "Come on, Luke. We'd better get going."

The Campbells set off down the road and Vernon pulled away from the drive towards the zoo. As he drove, he noticed that there was a strange noise coming from the engine. He parked at the end of the road and got out of the car. There, in the middle of the bonnet, was a dent that had not been there since David had fixed it almost ten years ago.

"Dad, why are you smiling?"

"Oh, no reason, Luke. Come on."

Luke and David arrived at Arabella Figg's house about ten minutes later, and she hobbled to the front door to let them in. "Come in, come in," she said, nudging a rather large, flat-faced cat out of the way with her one good foot as she balanced shakily on her crutches.

"How are you?" David asked as they entered the living room and sat down on the moth-eaten, slightly damp sofa. Luke looked warily at the sheer number of cats in the room, and perched himself on the edge of the armrest as a fat ginger cat tried to get his attention.

"Oh, I'm fine, dear. A friend came round earlier with some Skele-Grow, I'll be alright by this evening. What about yourself?"

"I'm alright. Have you heard from Dumbledore recently?"

Luke did not hear Mrs Figg's reply, because the huge ginger Kneazle had jumped onto his lap and insisted it be stroked. He did his best, but the cat was so heavy that he soon became unbalanced and fell off of the armrest onto the floor, narrowly missing squashing another cat in the process. Mrs Figg squeaked anxiously and went over to the Kneazle to make sure it was okay.

The rest of the visit passed without incident (the Kneazle was fine) and an hour and a half later the Campbells walked back to their house. Luke rushed upstairs to his room and David got to work. When Luke came back downstairs later to get something to eat, he asked his dad, "What is it that you do, exactly? For your job?"

David pointed to a rectangular metal device around the size of a small suitcase. "That," he said, "is a piecey. Sometimes called a Mack. My job is to fix them, when the Muggles break them."

"How do you do it? I didn't realise you knew anything about Muggle artefacts?" Luke replied, amazed.

"Well, I sort of... cheat a bit."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when you're a wizard, things are quite a lot easier. I just point my wand at them and say Reparo. That usually works."

"And if not?"

David looked serious. "There is one thing. But you have to promise me you'll be careful. Don't do it on your own, okay?" Luke nodded earnestly. "There's a button here," David continued gravely. "If you press this, it'll turn off. You have to wait for a bit, and then press it again. It's called a hard reboot."

Luke's eyes widened. "Why's it called that, Dad?" he asked, enthralled.

"Because it's... really hard."

"And what about the reboot part?"

David paused. "Come on, time for dinner."

Outside the window, Vernon Dursley was shouting at Harry. "Car broken! Birthday ruined! Glass vanished! Snake escaped! Cupboard. Now. No food."

David went outside and over to the garden wall. "Is everything alright? I heard shouting."

Vernon glared at him. "Yes, yes. We're fine. Get inside!" The last two words he hissed at Harry, who was lingering to watch. As he ran inside, he happened to put his hand in his pocket and found a packet of biscuits and a sandwich. David winked at him, and Harry smiled gratefully back.

"I'm sorry," said David quietly, "I didn't mean to disturb you." He went back inside and shut the door behind him.

"What was that about, Dad?" Luke asked him.

"Oh, nothing," he replied. He didn't want to upset his son by telling him that his hero was practically a prisoner next door.

He did not see Harry at all for almost two months, prompting him to wonder whether the Dursleys had finally had enough of him and sent him away. His fears were put to rest, however, when he saw Harry emerge from the front door of number four and walk off down the road. David hurried downstairs and ran after him.

"Harry!" he cried, once he was sure he was out of earshot of the Dursleys. Harry turned around.

"Oh, er... Hello," he stammered. "You live next door, don't you?"

"David Campbell," David replied, holding out his hand, which the small boy shook.

"Thank you for the food, by the way. That was very nice of you."

David smiled. He was glad that Harry had not inherited his cousin's manners.

"How did you get them into my pocket, anyway? I didn't notice them get in there."

"Oh... Er..." David faltered, remembering Dumbledore's warning not to get involved with the Boy Who Lived until he was old enough. "What's the date?"

"The twelfth of July, I think. Why?"

"Oh... Nothing. Don't worry about it. I... I'd better be going. It was nice meeting you, Harry."

David turned to walk away, but Harry called after him. "How do you know my name?"

"... Don't worry about that. Soon, I promise."

Harry did not know quite why he should believe the promise of a stranger, but somehow he did. He decided not to mention the meeting to the Dursleys when he arrived back that night, consoling himself with the knowledge that he would find out 'Soon.'

A few days later, Luke rushed down the stairs, excited. "Dad! Dad!"

David knew what was coming, and smiled.

"DAD! I can see an owl!"

"Oh, yes? What does it look like?"

"It's a tawny, I think. Those are the ones Hogwarts uses, aren't they? You said they were, they are, aren't they?"

"We'd better just wait and see," said David.

The owl swooped down low along the street and up to the door of number three. Without stopping, it released the letter it was carrying and flew off. The letter shot through the letterbox and onto the doormat. Luke scooped it up eagerly and tore it open. "Dad! I got in!"

David ran out of the living room and beamed at his son. "Congratulations, Luke! You'll be casting spells all over the place in no time, I'm sure." Luke gave the letter to his father, who read it.

"Right, you're going to need a few things, so we'd better go to Diagon Alley as soon as we can. I think..."

"I wonder if Harry Potter's got his letter yet?" Luke interrupted.

"Oh, I expect he has," replied David. "Now, shall we have some breakfast?"

After breakfast, Luke launched into a long explanation of exactly what he wanted to do at Hogwarts. "...and I want to be in... What house were you in, Dad?"

"Gryffindor," said David over the top of the Daily Prophet.

"And I want to be in Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw I suppose, but Hufflepuff is a bit boring and Slytherins are evil, so..."

"Luke, not all Slytherins are evil..." David tried to stop his son, but he was too late.

"...and then I'm going to go up to the dormitory and make sure I get a bed by the window, and then I'll unpack and- oh, I'll make sure my bed's next to Harry Potter's, and I want to go to Charms. Charms is a good lesson, isn't it, Dad? Where you learn spells."

"Yeah, Charms is good," said David wearily. Where does he get all of that energy from, he wondered.

"And Transfiguration, and Potions, and Herbology, and Quidditch!"

"I don't think you can do Quidditch in your first year, Luke."

"Yeah, but I can watch. And they teach you how to ride a broom."

"What other lessons, then? What about Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"Who teaches that one?"

David paused. "I don't know, actually. I think it's a different teacher this year."

"Oh, right. Is that another owl?" Luke said, pointing suddenly out of the window.

He was right- another owl, a tawny like the first, was swooping down towards the door of number four. It released the letter, and the two Campbells watched as it flapped away.

"There you go- Harry Potter's got his too. Now, let's go and tell your Auntie Anne." David picked up a handful of Floo Powder from a pot near the fireplace, lit a fire, and threw the powder into it. "17, Montgomery Close, Ottery St. Catchpole," he said, calmly stepping into the fire. Luke followed.

David had suspected that the Dursleys would not be pleased to see Harry's Hogwarts letter, so he was not entirely surprised to see that, the following morning, another owl was gliding down the street towards number four. The next day, the same thing happened. Surely Harry must get his letter soon, he thought. The next day, there were twelve. After that, David noticed a very bemused looking milkman carrying an egg box emblazoned with what appeared to be the Hogwarts crest. If that didn't work, David thought, nothing will.

David awoke early on the next day, eager to see what measures Hogwarts would have come up with to ensure the letters got delivered. Instead, he was surprised to see a single owl coming towards Privet Drive. He was even more surprised to see that the owl was in fact heading to his own front door rather than the Dursleys'. He went downstairs in time to see the envelope land on the doormat. It was addressed to him. Opening it, two pieces of parchment fell out. One was an envelope addressed to 'Mr H. Potter'. The other simply read:

David,

Do your best.

A.P.W.B.D.

Smiling to himself, David took out his wand and pointed it at the envelope. He knew exactly what to do. "Geminio," he said. There was a flash of light, and suddenly there were two letters. He repeated the spell until there were thirty or forty letters in a pile on the floor. Then, he conjured a bag to put them all in and Apparated onto the Dursleys' roof. Looking around to make sure there was nobody watching, he opened the bag and tipped the letters down the Dursleys' chimney. Smiling to himself as he thought of the scene that must be unfolding beneath his feet, he turned and Apparated back into the hallway of number three.

"Morning, Dad," Luke said as he walked downstairs.

"What? Oh, morning." David replied, looking distractedly out of the window for any sign of a reaction to the latest batch of letters. He was not disappointed. Around ten minutes later, Vernon charged through the front door and got into the car. The rest of the family followed him hesitantly, Dudley hitting Harry as they went as if to vent his anger at missing his favourite television program.

The Dursleys did not return that evening, nor the next, and David began to wonder whether he had gone too far. Lying awake in bed, he distracted himself by watching the clock tick closer to midnight. 11:58... 11:59... 00:00.

Somewhere out there, wherever he was, it was Harry Potter's birthday.

Phew. I've done pretty much nothing but write that all day. Hope you enjoyed, please review if you did. Thanks!