When Harry returned to Privet Drive Number Four, he found that the Dursleys seemed to be intent on ignoring him. He was spared a tiny portion each meal, and Aunt Petunia thrust a list of chores into his hand every morning; but Uncle Vernon refused to even look at him, and Dudley ran away whenever they were in the same room. It was fun at first, but soon Harry grew bored and even oppressed by the Dursleys' new attitude. His only companion was his owl, whom he named Hedwig after reading one of his books, and he fancied that she could understand him when he talked.
Ardila's pack and his school-books were his other saviours. The food package sustained him more than the measly meals the Dursleys gave, and he read his new books in all the spare time that he had.
Strangely, though, the thing that really gave him comfort was the small painting Ardila had included in the pack. It depicted a patch of wild orchids, violet and pink and red, growing alongside some kind of knuckled wood-ivy, curling around the trunk of a shadowed tree. It fitted Ardila's family quite well, somehow, although Harry could not explain it to himself. He often found himself gazing at it with a mixture of longing and unnerve, when he found no will to do other things.
– Dared he go to them again? Where would he end up now? Would they welcome him for the third time? Then again, he had not found a way to repay Ardila other than returning her money. He had not found a way to make his father's godfather proud, too; and he sorely wanted so, somehow.
These changes, leading to stagnancy, was maddening. Soon he had reread all his Muggle and Wizarding school-books at least twice over, and even dabbled on matching the two worlds' theories on some matters. But it was not enough, by a long run. He felt more and more caged each day, longing to get free by any means. His memories and speculations about his visit to Diagon Alley just worsened the feeling.
He opted to spend his spare time outside, then. He visited the local library and playground, avoiding encounters with his nosy and demeaning neighbours when he could meanwhile. He diligently ran for miles around each morning and evening, just to let out his stress and some pent up energy and emotions. He also began to hunt for odd jobs far enough from his neighbourhood that people would not know of his delinquent image, gathering up some cash for saving.
But it was not enough. He both dreaded and looked forward to his entrance to Hogwarts, and he began to feel restless again two weeks before the Hogwarts Express would bring him to the school. (Regarding the train, he had also been wondering about how he would find Platform Nine-and-three-quarters, as Hagrid had failed to tell him how to reach it.)
He gave up. He had to go somewhere…