1992, summer before 2nd year

"I am proud of your progress," Healer Wright told Harry. "You have almost completely recovered physically and from what you have told me, you are faring much better in your day-to-day life as well. It seems Hogwarts has been good for you."

Harry thought back on Quirrel's attempts at his life and said nothing. Healer Wright wasn't wrong. Overall, being at Hogwarts had actually been good for him. Having friends that supported him helped. Harry thought the particular way his housemates dealt with literally everything was mainly responsible for that.

"If it's alright with you, I would like to schedule one more follow-up next summer," Healer Wright continued.

Harry nodded.

"Then that's all for today. Enjoy your summer, Harry. Don't forget to meet up with your friends."

Harry blinked. "I can do that?"

Judging from the looks Healer Wright and Severus gave him, yes. Yes, he could. And he should have known that. Because it was apparently a normal thing that normal children did and were allowed to do.

It turned out to be a bit more complicated than it had to, because Harry soon discovered that he wasn't receiving any letters. He hadn't paid it much mind at first, truthfully not even noticing the lack of letters. But when he sent out a few, himself, and did not receive a reply to a single one of them, Harry grew suspicious.

With Severus' help, they quickly figured out that someone was intercepting Harry's letters – which was easily circumvented, but it bothered the two of them that they could not figure out who was behind it. Harry didn't think his friends' letters could be all that interesting, but he also couldn't imagine why else anyone would take them. To prevent Harry from talking to his friends? But why?

None of the others could explain it, either. Oliver mailed him a list and a couple of books with possible ideas and solutions via Muggle post less than a week after Harry had informed all his friends, the others used the Floo or their house-elves – or an actual telephone.

Harry had not expected Rhea of all people to know how to use a telephone, let alone her family to own one, and was not ashamed to admit that she scared the living daylights out of him the first time she called.

(Harry would only later realise that the phone displaying the name 'Lémure' meant Severus knew and had saved their number. Harry honestly did not want to know why.)

Blaise's call was a pleasant surprise in comparison, though Severus told him to find a different method because Muggles charged extra for international calls.

It was kind of ironic that the solution to the letter mystery was solved by Draco using his family's house-elves to deliver his letters, for it turned out that one of these very elves was the culprit.

House-elves could not directly apparate into Severus' home, because there were specific wards to prevent that particular breach of security. In a way, this actually made Severus' home far safer than even Hogwarts. Anyone could order their house-elf to sabotage anything at Hogwarts – or other people's homes, apparently – anti-apparition charms or not – and nothing would prevent the elves from doing so. Harry didn't understand why no one saw any issues with that.

Harry had questions. Quite a lot of them. Only some related to security issues and most concerning the particulars of house-elf magic instead.

Either way, the house-elves that were sent to deliver letters to Harry had to knock on the door. Why they did not simply put the letters into the mailbox, Harry did not know and only tried to ask once.

If Harry had thought that house-elves in general were strange creatures (and elected not to think about their circumstances too much, because the implications were truly horrifying), Dobby topped that by a mile or two. It was the strangest conversation Harry had ever held – and Harry had held a lot of strange conversations in his life. He couldn't quite make sense of it.

The obvious thing to do would have been to ask Draco about it, but Dobby was already pitiful enough as it was and Harry had a feeling telling Draco would only make his situation worse. It was a wonder Dobby had dared to speak up in the first place, despite being unable to hide who his masters were.

(Harry really wanted to know what magics bound the elves to their masters. Why could they not free themselves, if they were powerful enough to even ignore standard anti-apparition charms?)

"Is there no way to help him?" Harry asked Severus.

"Manage to help yourself first," Severus grumbled. "You can try to fix the lives of other people after you've fixed your own."

"But –"

"How would you even help him?" Severus asked sharply. "What can you possibly do? An eleven-year-old going up against an old, pure-blood family for the sake of one, single house-elf."

Harry did not correct him that he was almost twelve. It wouldn't have changed the argument.

"So my letters weren't intercepted for malicious purposes," Harry said instead.

Severus hummed.

"And the Dark Lord is trying to kill me once more," Harry continued, "but at the same time, it's not him."

"So it would seem."

"Is there anything we can do about that?"

Severus scowled. "The safest option would be to do as the elf told you, but the headmaster will hardly allow it."

Harry nodded. "And Healer Wright would have words with you about the importance of socialising at a young age."

"The Risbergs –"

"Are also attending school now."

There was an aggrieved sigh.

"I could try asking Draco whether he knows something?"

Severus arched an eyebrow at him. "And how would you go about that without arousing suspicion?"

Harry bit his lip. "It has to be natural. Maybe I can rope Blaise and Daphne in? But I would need to get them all together for that … Wasn't there some festival in August?"

"Lughnasa, yes. You could also simply invite them all to your birthday."

Harry blinked. "Oh. I hadn't thought of that."

"Evidently."

o

Meeting up with friends during the holidays was a novel experience for Harry.

It was fun.

And he was allowed to do it more than once.

The logistics were a bit complicated at times, since Harry couldn't actually invite anyone to his home, to Severus' home, but it only really came up for his birthday since his friends invited him over to their own homes all other times. Oliver's home was surprisingly normal. Sue and Daphne had lovely homes that were a bit more high-class than Harry was used to.

"Next year, I shall show you my home in Italy," Blaise promised, when Harry saw him at Daphne's.

Their house was apparently under construction at the moment – something about an accident involving Mrs Zabini's late husband?

"And what have you been up to so far?"

Harry shrugged. "I've been reading, mostly. I honestly don't quite know what to do with all the free time."

Blaise arched an eyebrow. "How about taking up a new hobby? I myself have been practicing my piano skills."

"I would love to hear you play someday."

Blaise flashed him a smile. "I'd be honoured." He turned his head to Daphne, who was sitting behind Harry, braiding his hair. "Perhaps we could give him a duet?"

Just a year ago, Harry reflected, being this close to another person and letting them braid his hair wouldn't have been relaxing at all.

"Perhaps," Daphne replied. "I would have to brush up on my playing first."

"What instrument do you play?" Harry asked curiously.

"Cello. Mother wanted me to learn how to play the violin, but I found the violoncello more suitable."

"I think Sue actually plays the violin," Harry mused. He vaguely remembered her mentioning something of the sort.

Blaise clapped his hands. "Perhaps we can do a trio, then, instead of a duet."

"I'm sure that would be lovely."

"Or a quartet, if you take up an instrument, Harry, dear."

"Ah, I don't think – I don't have a talent for music."

Blaise leaned in closer, a conspiratorial smirk on his lips. "I can always teach you."

"No, no! It's – It's fine, really!" Harry waved his hands frantically. "No need to trouble yourself."

"Stay still, Harry," Daphne admonished him.

"It wouldn't be any trouble at all, trust me," Blaise said.,

"Music is a beautiful art, Harry," Daphne said, leaning around to look at him. "It wouldn't hurt to try."

Harry felt himself wilt under her gaze. "I will look into it."

She smiled gently at him. "That's all I'm asking for."

Then she resumed braiding his hair.

Harry declined Draco's invitation on Severus' advice (which was more like an order), even though that would have been a good opportunity to try and figure out what 'terrible things' were being plotted to happen at Hogwarts. (Draco himself had no clue at all, as Harry figured out during his little birthday get-together.)

One terrible thing being plotted, even if it was unrelated to the Dark Lord, was apparently the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor – one Gilderoy Lockhart.

When Severus gave Harry his new list of books and Harry later got a good look at said books (they owl-ordered them, because Harry's robes still fit him and he had no other items to purchase), Harry got quite the first impression of the man. It could be summarised in one word: Fraud.

"Why would anyone believe a word of this nonsense?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

Severus, who had been scowling and grumbling under his breath constantly ever since he had been informed of Lockhart's employment, gave Harry a dark look. "Because we are surrounded by idiots."

Surrounded by idiots, indeed. Not a week later, Harry received two owls telling him about the drama Draco's father and a Mr Weasley had caused during Lockhart's signing at Florish and Blotts.

(Harry was receiving his owl-mailed letters now, thankfully.)

Daphne gave him a delighted retelling of what Pansy had told her, whereas Draco kept ranting about 'the audacity of those blundering, hand-me-down, red-headed fools'.

"See?" Harry said to Severus when the news appeared in the Daily Prophet. "It was a good thing to owl-order my books."

"You just wanted to avoid confronting the crowds."

Harry ignored him. "I didn't expect Mr Malfoy to get into a brawl. He doesn't seem like someone who would fight with his fists."

A contemplative look entered Severus' eyes. "It is indeed out of character."

"Do you think it had something to do with the plot Dobby was trying to tell us about?"

"It is possible. But I cannot imagine how a physical brawl with Arthur Weasley could possibly be related to any nefarious things being planned for Hogwarts. Let alone …"

o

Like the year before, Harry and Severus took the Floo to London and went to King's Cross Station via cab. It was as crowded as ever. Unlike last year, Severus did not depart before they reached the barrier, being conscious of leaving Harry alone among strangers when someone might be after his life. Again.

(Harry hoped Dobby's words would prove to be untrue. Harry hoped to not have another year full of attempts on his life.)

It was a good thing, too, for when Harry approached the barrier to platform nine and three-quarters, he encountered resistance. Or rather, the ticket barrier stubbornly remained a solid ticket barrier.

"It must be either 'the plot' or Dobby," Harry said, watching Severus discreetly wave his wand over the barrier, a notice-me-not charm in place to take care of the Muggles around them. "It would be too much of a coincidence if it is actually unrelated."

"That may be true, but that does not solve our current problem," Severus drawled.

"You can always take me with you?" Harry paused. "But what about other people trying to access the platform? Do you think the barrier will open for them? Is there a staff member we can ask about this? A magical security guard or something?"

"What would you need a security guard for?" came a voice from behind them and Harry turned around to see a family clearly of magical origin coming up behind them, the cages of an owl and a cat perched on top of a trolley packed with trunks. "Is something the matter?"

Harry didn't recognise them, but the two boys seemed like older students, probably from a different house.

Trying to get ahead of Severus' sour mood, Harry quickly addressed them. "The barrier won't let us through. Would you like to try? Maybe you'll have better luck than us."

He received a raised eyebrow in return, but one of the boys went forward and tentatively reached out to touch the barrier. His hand went through.

"You sure it was blocked?"

Harry gave him an awkward smile. "Probably a prank."

The boy threw him a smirk and then passed through the barrier.

Harry and Severus made space for the rest of the family and then cautiously tried again. The barrier was solid once more.

"Definitely targeted at me, then."

Harry watched Severus pinch the bridge of his nose, annoyance written all over his face, then seemingly coming to a decision, turning abruptly on his heel.

"Come," he said to Harry. "We shall take the Floo to my quarters in Hogwarts."

Travelling directly to Hogwarts, Harry mused, was still far more comfortable and practical than taking the train – even if he missed out on time spent chatting with his friends before they were back at school.

Harry wondered, briefly, if he could somehow send a letter to his friends to let them know he wouldn't be on the train, but then decided it would suffice to tell them at the Welcoming Feast.

AN

I'm putting this fic on hiatus for now, while I concentrate on my other works.
I'm not abandoning it, don't worry!