July to August 1992, summer before 2nd year
The plan had been to stay at the Dursley's until the Hogwarts letter arrived and then leave and stay over at Theodore's house. It was important that the address on the letter read 'Number four, Privet Drive', because Harry didn't know who was writing them and who was reading the address and how they knew where he lived in the first place.
The year before, his letter had arrived towards the end of July. That was not the case this year.
Harry had already made one trip to Diagon Alley at the beginning of the summer, making use of the Knight Bus as Susan had recommended – though the driver and his assistant and any passengers within hearing distance were so interested in his name and hidden scar that Harry had decided to use the Knight Bus only when absolutely necessary in the future.
Harry had wanted to make several trips and small purchases – that way he could go through his reading material and then decide on what to buy next. But going by train was an unnecessary waste of time and thanks to the magical bag he had purchased during his very first trip, purchasing everything at once was no problem at all. He could always go back one way or another if the new books proved to be boring or not enough. He would have to go anyway once the Hogwarts letter finally arrived.
His newest project was Occlumency.
Technically, underage magic outside of Hogwarts was forbidden. Technically, there was some sort of enchantment on every wand that monitored them until they turned seventeen. Technically, wandless and non-verbal magic was very difficult and powerful magic a twelve-year-old shouldn't be capable of using.
Harry had been using his Gift since he had first discovered it and nothing would stop him from using it during the summer. No one noticed, no one complained and all was fine.
All of the subjects taught to first- and second-years Harry had already deemed boring. Even Potions had lost his interest. There wasn't much more he could learn about it, he had already gone through it all.
His newest project had been inspired by the old headmaster. Harry had used the remaining time at Hogwarts to look up mind reading magic, found a general overview, and based his purchase in Diagon Alley on that. Occlumency was the art of shielding your mind against Legilimency – which was mind reading but at the same time not mind reading. Harry would try his hand at that later. For now, shielding his mind seemed more important.
He would have to find a way to test his proficiency at some point and for that he would need someone capable of Legilimency, but Harry would tackle that problem when the time came. For now, he was devouring every information he could find about different variations of Occlumency and their implementations and advantages and disadvantages and trying to come up with something that suited all his needs and would be versatile, yet strong. Harry was nothing if not thorough.
It took him nearly a whole month to notice that someone was intercepting his letters. Harry wasn't writing any, because he didn't own an owl and no one was sending him any. Which was weird, once he actually thought about it. He wasn't used to having friends who would correspond with him regularly. But he did notice the absence of it eventually and it made him wary. Whoever was doing it was being very clever and made it rather hard for Harry to figure it out.
He eventually took another trip to London – by train this time and under the guise of being a girl. It was quite easy to become a girl – all he had to do was untie his mother's ribbon to let his wild curls roam free, modify one of his robes to look like a nice dress and once in London, he purchased a pair of glasses just to be safe. The glasses he enchanted to change his eye colour to some dark brown and when he looked into a window and saw his appearance, he was satisfied to find a tiny girl that looked nothing at all like Harry Potter looking back at him. He might just make use of that disguise more often.
There was a post office in Diagon Alley that Harry used to send a letter each to Theodore and Susan, informing them about the issue with his mail. In his letter to Theodore he also added a line to meet him in the Leaky Cauldron on the thirty-first of July.
Harry had planned on spending his birthday over at Theodore's house, because Uncle Vernon wanted to hold a very important business dinner and Harry was nice like that – no, of course he wasn't. It was just a coincidence. Or maybe Uncle Vernon had been hoping Harry would spend his birthday elsewhere and specifically set the date because of that. Whatever it was, Harry got his useful little bag, always packed with his most important belongings and necessities, used the Knight Bus to go to London and then met Theodore at the Leaky Cauldron.
Theodore, of course, didn't know about Harry's birthday plans, because Harry had never received any reply if there had been one, but he was waiting for him just as Harry had told him to. And if for some reason Harry couldn't stay with Theodore, then he would just rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron for the night.
But it didn't come to that.
It was a perfect birthday.
Mr Nott was a cold and distant man. He greeted Harry politely, sternly told the boys to behave themselves and then left them to their own devices. Harry only saw him one more time during dinner, which was a very silent affair.
Theodore and his father occupied a whole manor all by themselves (and a few house-elves). There were many rooms long abandoned and those that weren't were spacious and lavishly decorated – from the living quarters to the library and, oh, how Harry loved the library. It was much like Hogwarts castle, actually, but without the sheer amount of magic. And, of course, the Hogwarts library scarcely held so many books about the darker magics, not even in the Restricted Section.
Theodore gave him a small, but undoubtedly amused smile and they spent all of their time in the library, reading side by side. Harry couldn't imagine a better way to spend his birthday. He was already looking forward to spending more time with Theodore in his library once the Hogwarts letter finally arrived.
Harry was very content and a little bit disappointed that he had to leave so soon and he could not even write to Theodore, because he had not found whoever was intercepting his letters. Yet.
But relished in what little time they had and then Harry returned to the Dursleys … to a house-elf.
There was a house-elf sitting on his bed.
"Harry Potter!" the elf squeaked and Harry heard a loud thump downstairs. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir … Such an honour it is …"
"Who are you?"
"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf."
As if that wasn't obvious. "And why are you here, Dobby?"
"Dobby has come to tell you, sir … it is difficult, sir … Dobby wonders where to begin …"
Harry sighed. "Sit down."
He regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth. He had forgotten how dramatic those elves could be.
Bursting into tears, the elf started to wail loudly, "S-sit down! Never … never ever …"
There were heavy steps on the stairs, now - not heavy enough to be Uncle Vernon or Cousin Dudley, but heavier than Petunia usually ascended the stairs.
"Then don't," Harry bit out. "Tell me why you are here."
But the elf only looked at him with big, watery eyes and then, suddenly, started banging his head on the window, shouting, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.
There was a tentative knock on the door.
"Is everything alright?" Petunia asked. "Is there – is there something you need?"
"No, aunt Petunia," Harry said. "I have an unexpected visitor. Please do not disturb us."
There was a short pause and then, "Of course, I will tell Vernon and Dudley not to come upstairs for a while." When she returned downstairs, her steps were much lighter – like they usually were.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the house-elf. "Which family do you serve?"
"Dobby cannot tell. Dobby mustn't tell. Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven for this. If they ever knew, sir …" The elf shuddered violently.
At this point, Harry was fairly sure the house-elf was quite positively mad. Definitely had a few screws loose.
The elf rambled on for a while, talking about Harry defeating the Dark Lord as a baby – why did everyone he ever met absolutely have to talk about that? Harry had been an infant. It wasn't his doing.
"Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."
Harry blinked. "Why?"
"Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."
Harry felt his left eye twitch. 'Too great', the elf had said, 'too good'. Who did the elf think he was? Harry wasn't great or good. Harry just wanted to be left the bloody hell alone. He didn't care about some 'plot to make most terrible things happen'.
An idea occurred to him.
"Did you perhaps intercept my letters?"
The elf froze, stopping his rambling mid-sentence. Then he shuffled his feet. "Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby – Dobby did it for the best … Dobby has them here."
The elf pulled a stack of envelopes from his pillowcase. Harry only now realised how old and unkempt it was. Either the elf's family did not care about their servant's appearance – which Harry found rather unlikely, considering how meticulous rich people were about their perfect images – or the elf was so far gone that he didn't take proper care of himself anymore and even his masters had declared him a lost cause. Yes, that was probably the reason.
The elf was rambling again.
"Dobby!" Harry interrupted and held out his hand. "You have no right to steal what does not belong to you. Give me those letters."
The elf took a step back, holding the letters close to his chest. "Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. As, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back, sir!"
That insolent little –
Harry jerked his hand and the letters flew out of the elf's grip and into his hand. The elf's eyes widened.
"But –" The elf started to tremble.
"Let me make a few things very clear," Harry said, his voice calm despite his waning patience. "First of all, I am not the kind and good saviour you think I am. I certainly didn't vanquish the Dark Lord out of the goodness of my heart. I was an infant. Which brings me to my second point. I don't know why you think I'm too important to put myself in peril, but I am not some helpless little child."
It was easy, letting his magic flow freely to give the elf a taste of his Gift. House-elves possessed a different kind of power, used their magic in a different kind of way, compared to witches and wizards. While Harry was special in that he could perceive magic in ways his peers could not, house-elves could do it, too, to a certain degree.
There was no need to threaten the elf physically. Anyone capable of sensing magic would understand that Harry was no weakling. He did not wish to flaunt his Gift like that, but that elf was mad, he would not understand otherwise – and Harry had to make sure the mad elf would not get any other crazy ideas and bother Harry further. Who knew what kind of trouble a mad house-elf could cause?
"Dobby understands," the elf said in a weak voice. "Dobby will not bother Harry Potter anymore."
There. Lesson learned. Hopefully.
"Dobby," Harry said and the elf trembled. "Lend me an owl, will you?"
o
The Hogwarts letter finally arrived in the middle of August and Harry immediately arranged another meeting with Theodore in the Leaky Cauldron.
Harry was not quite convinced that the mad house-elf would truly leave him alone now, but at least his letters were coming through again. Susan had been very worried, but that didn't stop her from scolding Harry about being rude to 'the poor house-elf'. Theodore, on the other hand, thought Harry should have punished the creature properly. Harry thought he had found a good middle-ground without consulting his friends beforehand.
Their booklist for this year contained quite a lot of books from some guy called Gilderoy Lockhart. Harry had seen those books on display. They hadn't seemed worth his time.
"Another wasted year," Theodore said. "Unless the new Defence Professor wants to use those books as examples of what not to do."
"They would have set at least one other book on what to do, then."
"Valid point," Theodore said.
"It might be amusing," Harry commented. "It is quite a commitment to assign so many books from the same author. Is he really that famous? I haven't even heard of the guy before."
"There will be a signing next Wednesday. You could meet him personally."
Harry wrinkled his nose, earning a small smile from Theodore. "Have you actually read any of his books?"
"No. Have you?"
"I heard enough to get the gist." Harry sighed. "Although I suppose we'll have to read them for class, anyway. You don't suppose we could get away with not wasting our money and time?"
"Do not judge a book by its cover."
"I will very much judge these books by their covers."
Theodore laughed lightly. "We both own enough money to our name. And I'm sure we can find some use in them if they do turn out to be utter nonsense."
"Firewood." Harry stopped next to a small sign above a narrow side alley. "Knockturn Alley," he read, looking down the dark, twisting cobblestone street. "What's down there?"
"Dark Arts," Theodore said.
"Dark Arts?" Harry turned around. "Neat. Hey, why don't we take a detour? We can buy our books later."
"No."
Harry cocked his head. "Why not?" He was not pouting, definitely not.
Theodore looked at him for a moment, before he eventually replied, "When we are older."
"Ah." Harry nodded. "Because two children without supervision attract too much unwanted attention."
"Mhn."
"What counts as 'older'?"
"Until we are of age."
"But that's five years! You really expect me to reign in my curiosity for five years? But, Theo, you know how powerful I am. We would be perfectly fine."
"Unwanted attention," Theodore countered. "And no one takes children seriously."
"So," Harry began, circling his friend with a small grin on his face, "if we had someone that looked like an adult at our side, we would be fine?" He paused. "Or if we looked like adults, ourselves."
Theodore didn't answer for a long time. Then he shook his head and said again, "When we are older."
So Harry sighed and grumbled and eventually had to give in and let himself be dragged away from the alluring alleyway and towards Flourish and Blotts, where they bought the ridiculous amount of Lockhart books, and then Theodore bought them a cone of ice cream each and Harry wondered if it was some kind of apology.
They went home after that – home to the Notts' manor – and Harry spent the rest of the holidays there, mostly in their amazing library, with Theodore at his side, and it was wonderful. If only the old headmaster wasn't so fixated on Harry, he could spend all his holidays here. But he would figure that out eventually. For now, he had some terrible adventure books to read and some more research in Occlumency to do.