The Hogwarts Express slowly began to unload. The people around him were bustling with excitement for the summer. All that is except one. Harry Potter slowly navigated his way through the crowed wizarding side of Platform 9 3/4 making his way along with Hermione to the muggle side of King's Cross Station. The bushy haired, brunette witch that was his female best friend went through first. They not more than 12 years old, followed her and began to scan the crowd, when a large walrus of a man bellowed, "Boy get over here. It bloody took you long enough." With that statement the raven-haired boy followed the man to a modest midsize sedan.
The car ride was decent enough, so Harry enjoyed the quiet as the car slowly maneuvered through the London traffic that typified commute times in the city. The boy thought to himself he would not mind if his relatives left him alone for the summer. That would be more pleasant than normal. The only sound in the car was that of his uncle cursing the traffic for the length of time it would take to get from London to Private Drive. The boy settled in for the long and uneventful car ride.
Once they reached Private Drive his uncle took out Harry's trunk and locked it away in the cupboard under the stairs that had just until last year been where Harry slept. This year was different though. Harry had a room of his own and friends that would hopefully write over the summer. These hopes were dashed when Harry then saw his uncle put a lock on Hedwig's cage. There were no warm hugs and greetings, as Harry had seen for other students reuniting with their families, or questions about his school year. His Aunt ignored his presence completely and continued working on dinner.
Harry went up to his room to make sure that all was well. Not that Harry had much in his room to begin with. There was an old bed, and a desk with a chair. Dudley's old and busted toys that he had swept into the closet so as not to make a huge mess. You would not have expected it, but Harry likes routine, and he likes organization. So, he did not mind school, unlike Ron who complained endlessly about having to get up early and the homework. Never having had spare time for book learning while at the muggle primary school he had attended along with Dudley. The raven-haired boy was not particularly dumb. In fact, the hat had said that he would do well in any house. The problem was that Harry struggled with writing and while he did not mind books, he was not the bookworm that Hermione was. He much preferred the practical aspects of his classes.
The evening turned to night, and night into day. Harry started on a routine of sorts that he had followed over the years. Making breakfast for his aunt, uncle, and cousin first thing in the morning. Then, the boy headed out to weed the garden and make sure that the plants got watered. The garden was always a priority to his aunt and Uncle since the neighbors could see it. Harry took his time on this enjoying the feel of the afternoon sun on his skin. Next Harry swept the driveway, and then taking off his trainers he cleaned up and began his indoor chores. Thankful for the peace and quiet, the boy was able to get the inside work done quickly, without Dudley getting in his way.
Finally, the raven-haired boy sat down on his bed, the day's chores done for now. Deciding to start on the summer work his professors had assigned. He went and picked the lock on the cupboard under the stairs and took out his schoolbooks, parchment, ink, and quill. Then, set about righting the lock and headed back to his room. Harry started with Transfiguration, wanting very much to do well. He had heard that his father had been particularly gifted at Transfiguration. Beyond that Harry really did want to do well in the class taught by his head of house. Wishing that the formidable witch would favor them as much as Snape favored his Slytherins Harry started on the assignment just the same.
That was his routine, and he was thankful to be left alone aside from an occasional note from his aunt telling him additional chores. It was alright mostly, because Harry liked to be busy. What started to weigh on him was the fact that he did not receive a single letter. He had been home for a month, and no one had written. Not even Hermione or Neville, both whom he had counted on writing, no invitation from Ron to visit, or anything.
It was about 7 o'clock when Vernon Dursley lumbered up the stairs and standing in the doorway spoke in his deep baritone, "No fun business boy. I am warning you. With any luck I may very well make the biggest deal of my career tonight, and you will not mess it up. You hear me boy?" Harry nodded, "I will stay in my room making no noise and pretending that I do not exist. "
Everything was going fine this summer, until his uncle's guest arrived. Of course, that was when everything went horribly wrong. A soft pop sounded in Harry's room as the small boy of twelve laid on his been attempting to read the potions textbook and determine what information he should include in Snape's essay on the Wigenweld Potion. The green-eyed wizard looked up to see a creature with bulging eyes, pale skin, and enormous, pointy ears. The creature spoke noting Harry's surprise at seeing it is presence in his room, "Harry Potter, such an honor it is." The boy cleared his throat, "Thanks," his voice trailed off. The creature smiled, "Dobbt sir, Dobby the house elf. Dobby must warn you sir horrible things, most horrible things are going to happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. Harry Potter must not go back." The wizard considered the elf a moment, before replying, " But I must Hogwarts is my home. I do not belong here; I belong in your world at Hogwarts. It the only place I have," the soft tenor of Harry dropped off as a realization struck. Sure, enough the elf all but confirmed his suspicions, "friends who don't even write Harry Potter." Demanding them back, Harry lunged at the creature.
The incident escalated from there, ending with his uncle's guest leaving covered in the desert that Harry had made earlier in the day, a delicious pudding cake. It was then that Harry saw an eagle owl swoop in with an envelope. Reading it informed him that he was on probation, for performing magic in the presence of a muggle outside of school. His uncle ripped it from his hands and read it as well.
The following morning bars inserted on Harry's window and his textbooks and quill removed. His uncle placed a series of locks on the bedroom door and a cat flap at the bottom that was barely big enough for one of Mrs. Figg's cats to fit through. His Uncle smirked as she saw Harry watching him do this, "You are never going back to that school, and you are never going to see those freaky friends of yours again. Never!"
With nothing better to do than lay on the bed against the wall, the young wizard found that he lost track of the days and hours. All he did know was that about once a day he got cold soup and bottle of water through the cat flap, with stale crackers, which he shared with Hedwig through the bars in her cage. She would softly hoot and nip the tip of his finger in thanks. It was in the middle of one of his sleeping bouts that Harry jolted awake. To a strange voice outside the door.