Hey, PZ. Remember all those times you tried to write fluff and it accidentally morphed into angst?

Yeah...?

...I'm sure this story will be nothing like that!

The rest of the term rolled by in highs of interesting lessons, music nights, Valentine's Day prep, and time with friends. Passing by at dragon speeds the first term soon ended and Christmas Holidays began. The train ride over was full of excited chatter and hugs goodbye, a sentiment that carried on once Melissa met her parents on the platform.

"I can't wait to hear all about it." Her father chuckled as Melissa chirped about how much fun the semester had been.

"Hope you have the time off to hear it." She joked.

"Aww, can't I have an afternoon to practice?" He mockingly whined as he swung her in a hug.

"If you'd like we can have a jam session and I sing about it."

"From what you said in your letters, Melly-bean, that sounds like a terrible idea." He teased with a grin.

"Ha! Fine, I'll just tell you about it on the way to Surrey."

Her parents gave each other a quick look, then her mother looked back at her.

"Sorry, darling, I forgot to mention in our last letter. Your aunt and uncle are going to Yorkshire for Christmas."

Melissa paused for a moment. In the past couple of years they almost never spent the holidays away from her extended family in Surrey. Not since Harry came into their lives.

"Oh. Okay then. I'll have to give them my presents later, then."

She didn't miss the relieved look her parents gave each other, half-masked by her mother's warm smile. "I'm sure they'll love that, darling."

Melissa kept her animated storytelling all through the car ride home and well into dinner time. It was easy enough. This semester has been her favourite so far, full of fun stories and lessons. Once she was in her own room, however, she had her chance to be quiet and full of thought.

The only real thorn in her side this semester had been the lack of responded-to letters from Surrey. She had asked her parents about it over the term, but they didn't have answers. At most they guessed things got lost in transit, which wasn't likely from Hootini. The few times her uncle and aunt did write to her they were responses to their own letters. Her uncle had apologized at one point, saying that Harry isn't visiting often, but sends his love. That didn't check by her, either. Harry can always write a letter and give it to Jeff at school, so why hasn't he? She had hoped for an answer come Christmas, but the lack of paternal relatives this holiday was worrying. That they were leaving for Yorkshire, in particular, stood up like a red flag. She hoped that maybe there was a good reason, like a sick relative or something, or Harry focusing on his schoolwork again. Either way, it still felt like a good idea to check and be sure.

A couple days into the holiday, Melissa arranged for a day to sleep over at the home of one of her muggle friends. She and Sarah did hang out for a couple hours; but, soon after, convinced Sarah's mum to drop her off at a nearby station. Once she was in the clear, Melissa hopped onto a rail heading South-West and sped off to Surrey.

It took some time to cab to Little Whinging, but she brought more than enough muggle money to pay the fare. Once she got to Privet Drive, Melissa found a hiding spot behind some evergreen shrubs. It was a long wait, scoping out Number Four, but she could eventually see Harry from his kitchen window. When it was clear that no one else was in the kitchen, Melissa fished out a pebble and tossed it gently to the window. It made only a small tap, but it was enough to make the boy jump at attention. He looked out, spotting Melissa as she waved over to him. Harry was surprised, which wasn't surprising at all, really. He looked back towards the hall, then gestured at her to wait. It took another fifteen minutes before Harry came out of the house.

"Finally!" Melissa cheered.

"Shh! They might see you." Harry cautioned. He gestured that they walk away from the house, and Melissa followed suit. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, obviously." She pouted. "I wanted to wish you a Happy Christmas."

"Does Uncle John even know you're here?" His tone was oddly accusing.

"Nope!" She grinned. "Does that bother you?"

"A little." He confessed, then looked away. "I mean, it would have been nice to see everyone."

He wasn't looking at her when he said that. Which meant that, for some reason, Harry was lying to her.

Another red flag.

"For sure." She noted cautiously. They walked outside of Privet Drive before they spoke again. "You haven't been answering my letters."

"Oh, um, sorry, I've been busy with school."

"Learning anything interesting?" She probed. It was a topic that got Harry to open up a little. He answered her questions and talked about school. It wasn't much, but at least he wasn't speaking in that same clipped tone that he used on Privet Drive.

"Our librarian has been letting me spend all recess at the library. She's even gotten new books that she thinks I can use in my studies."

"That's pretty neat. That librarian sounds like a nice person."

"Yes, she is." He smiled slightly.

They walked off to a nearby park and sat at the swings. They kicked at the ground a little before Melissa thought up a new topic, inspired by a recent Christmas card from her family.

"Your opinion on something. Do you think Aunt Sophie should re-dye her hair? I don't think the blonde look suits her."

"What? Oh, right. Um, I think it's nice." Harry stuttered his way through an answer.

"The blonde or brown?"

"I mean the blonde hair, but she looks nice, either way."

"I suppose I should take your word for it. You are the hair dyeing expert between the two of us."

Harry went a little red at that. "Right. I guess that makes sense."

"Yep. Just one problem. Aunt Sophie hasn't dyed her hair blonde." She got off of the swing and turned to stand in front of him, disapproving. Harry, meanwhile, looked up in surprise. "Harry, when's the last time you've seen them?"

"What?" He yelped meekly. "I see them. Just… not in a while."

She stared hard at him. "How long is a while?"

"I…" He paused, unsure how to answer her.

"Harry, you haven't written in months. What's going on?"

"Nothing! I swear. I've just needed my own time to-"

"Don't lie to me Harry." She interrupted, and moved to grab his shoulder. "We're friends. If something's going on-"

Before she could say anything else, Harry flinched from her hand and hissed in pain. He grabbed at his shoulder instinctively.

"What's wrong with your shoulder?"

"It's nothing. It's just sore."

This is wrong. Against her usual instincts, everything about this was wrong. He shares everything with her. So why was he lying? Unless...

"Harry, take off your coat."

"What? Why?"

"Because I need to see your shoulder."

"It's nothing, Melody, really."

Melody. He called her Melody. They only use that name for letters. For secrets. He probably didn't even notice the slip, but she did.

"Harry, I'm only going to ask you this one more time." She moved closer, her boots covering his own so that he couldn't run. "Take off the coat, or I take you to the police."

His eyes went wide. "No! You can't! If we go then they'll-"

"Then take it off!" She yelled.

Harry gulped. Fearful and ashamed, but did as she asked.

"Now the jumper."

He looked up at her again. "Please, don't…"

Her own face was solemn. "I won't ask again, Harry."

The boy shuddered, but gave in and removed his jumper, his torso exposed to the cold. The cold Harry was feeling was not what worried Melissa, though. It was the bruises that marred his body. His shoulder was purple. His ribs were purple, blue, and yellow. There were blue-and-yellow spots on his chest and down his side.

Melissa shuddered a gasp. "What the hell is this?"

Harry wouldn't meet her eyes. "It's nothing." He whispered. "I've been clumsy, is all."

"Don't lie to me, Harry. These aren't from falls or trips! How long has this been going on?"

He squirmed under the interrogation. "...October." He muttered quietly. "Aunt Marge came for a visit. Ripper, her dog, he snuck into the cupboard and found one of my bars." He explained. "I- Uncle Vernon asked where I got them -I didn't tell, I promise!- and he said I was ungrateful. That I was a good-for-nothing and should be thanking them for taking care of me. It was rubbish, I know. So I said- so I told him…"

"It's okay, Harry. Just let it out."

Harry shook in a way that wasn't from the cold. "I told him that they were a bunch of putrid slime buckets. No better than the Nazis."

Melissa almost wanted to laugh at the image. The fact that it caused these bruises, however, was more than enough to keep any humour at bay. "Harry, it's okay. I understand. Does Uncle John know about the bruises?"

Harry shook his head. "No. They only know about the arm. I didn't tell them about-"

"What about your arm?" She asked in alarm. She looked it over again, but his arm looked perfectly fine, minus a couple small bruises.

Harry flinched and looked up at her. He had a look on his face like he had just made a terrible mistake.

"Harry?"

"I…" He let out a frustrated breath. "The bruises are new. When I said that stuff to Vernon he got mad and… I broke my arm."

The statement froze her. "He broke your arm?!"

Harry flinched at her tone.

"Harry!" She knelt down in front of him, her eyes in fire and ice against his frightened green. "Harry, look at me. If he's gone that far… oh god, he's been hurting you all this time!" The gears finally clicked into place. A chronology of the past two months was all over his torso.

"Harry, baby, you can't stay here. He can't keep hurting you like this!"

"I don't have a choice." He whimpered. "If I tell anyone, the obliviators will come back. I can't let that happen."

"At the cost of your life?!"

"I'll be stuck there anyways!" He cried. "If I forget, I'll still be with my aunt and uncle. But I'll forget you, and Jeff, and Maggie, and magic. If they get you, too, then… then I'll be stuck there forever!"

Harry collapsed in that moment, the weight of his fears overwhelming him and he broke into tears.

"Harry." Melissa wrapped Harry up in her arms. Harry held her back in a vice grip. "Harry, baby, it's okay. I've got you. I've got you." She whispered in his ear over and over again. The two children stayed in each other's arms.. Their tears warmed and froze their cheeks with each fresh drop.

"Come on, Harry, let's get your jumper back on. You're freezing." She helped him back into his clothes, but made sure to keep a hand on him at all times, like a fragile piece of glass that could break at any moment without the proper care. They stayed in that park for a long time, holding onto each other for dear life.

"You said they know about the arm, but the rest?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't want them to worry and… I don't want my family to find out how much I like them or find their letters. Aunt Petunia's been going through the cupboard to make sure I'm not hiding anything else. She's probably in there right now."

The idea made Melissa grow cold. She supposed the only small consolation to this was that her letters and books are always left at her extended family's home. For his family to go so far… bad enough they treated him like dirt, but now a beaten prisoner?

"There has to be a way to get you out of there."

"They've been looking into it." Harry admitted. "John and Sophie. They want to adopt me, but wizard law doesn't work that way. Even your family can't since your parents aren't magical."

"Ugh, it's so stupid!" Melissa grunted in frustration. She kicked at the wet dirt, watching it fly in chunks.

"I know." Harry sighed. His own feet swayed against the playset they were sitting on. "You know, when I get out of Hogwarts, I want to help kids like me." He admitted. "Make a place where they can live and not be afraid of magic, or living with people who are afraid of magic. Someplace fun, and free, where they can make friends and learn about the world."

"It sounds like a nice place."

Harry gave a shy smile. "It will be." He promised.

Melissa looked at her friend. Seeing a true smile on his face for the first time that night. It was beautiful, both the smile and the dream. Here this boy sits, enduring his own pain while dreaming of a place where other children won't have to suffer like he is. An honest and good hope he has for the future. It's a beautiful dream, she can't deny that.

He just has to live long enough to achieve it.