A/N: Thanks to Bakeku67, JanuaryLestrange, Amber and BlueWater5 for their comments!

Back with the Dursleys

When Harry got home for the dreaded summer holidays, he was in for a couple of surprises. Not only did Uncle Vernon pick him up from King's Cross Station (who had informed him – and how did that mystery person convince him to go to that much trouble for his nephew?), but when they got home, Harry was told by Aunt Petunia that the cupboard under the stairs had gotten too small for him and that he was to get Dudleys's second bedroom!

Before Harry could react in any way to this pleasant piece of news, however, his trunk was shoved into said closet and the door locked – with a newly installed, heavy duty padlock.

"But what about my homework?" Harry dared to protest before Tom could stop him.

"I couldn't care less about the nonsense they call education at that school!" Aunt Petunia snapped. "Do it on your way back to that place or not at all. You're not supposed to do any hocus-pocus during your holidays, and I want none of your witchy gimmicks where innocent people could accidentally stumble across them!"

After that, Harry didn't dare inquire about the clothes he had bought himself. Aunt Petunia would probably intentionally shrink them in the washer or dryer just to be spiteful. For the coming months, he would be back to wearing Dudley's old corduroys or the elephant skin that would have been his Stonewell High uniform. Fortunately, he had his Gringotts pouch in his trouser pocket, so money wouldn't be an issue.

The new room more than made up for the temporary loss of his trunk. It had a decent bed, a small desk (at which he sadly wouldn't be doing his homework) and a wardrobe. As Harry found out, it contained all of Dudley's old and broken toys, which rained down on Harry when he opened the door. Well, he wouldn't be needing the wardrobe for his clothes anyway.

That he had brought an owl back with him had also raised a heated discussion, as it was hardly a 'normal' pet. Uncle Vernon wanted to keep her locked in her cage for the entire holidays, which, for a moment, had Harry frozen with panic. Poor Hedwig – that would be animal torture, and Harry wouldn't be able to communicate with his friends!

Thanks to Tom's quick thinking, however, Harry was able to give Vernon a totally different reason for his panic. "It's a magical owl, Uncle Vernon," he repeated what Tom was prompting him to say. "If she can't fly, she won't be able to hunt, and how will I feed her? She'll starve and also get very upset at not being able to move. Magical owls are known to commit suicide by self-incineration if they suffer and feel like there's no hope left. Their magic causes them to burst into flames, and I mean really huge flames." Harry made his eyes huge to emphasize the gravity of the situation.

Fortunately, his relatives really believed everything they were told as long as it fit the narrative that magic was bad and dangerous, and even uncle Vernon judged the risk too high. Harry assured him that magical owls were very quiet and peaceful pets as long as they were happy, especially since they slept during the daytime. Provided they were left out at night, they didn't even make a mess in their cages. Harry promised to keep her locked up until it was really dark, so the neighbours wouldn't see anything suspicious. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia weren't happy, but were willing to compromise to avert the danger of self-incineration.

These ground rules firmly established, Harry soon fell into a new, old routine. He would do his chores as he had done before (he wondered who had washed the car, mowed the lawn, weeded the flower beds, cleaned the bathrooms, cooked breakfast and done the dishes while he was away) and spent as much of his day as possible outside the house, which is to say: in the library.

It was the only place where Harry could spend his time sensibly, and it was pleasantly cool during this unusually hot summer. As an added bonus, he wouldn't ever run into Dudley while he was there. Harry kept sending letters out to Hermione and Neville with Hedwig, but so far, he had not received a reply. He was a bit disappointed about that. The letters seemed to arrive at his friends', as Hedwig always returned empty-taloned. But she also never brought back a return letter. Harry might be imagining things, but he couldn't help but think that Hedwig was upset about it as well.

"I don't understand why they won't write to me," he complained to Tom. "They promised they would – they can't have forgotten about me a couple of weeks into the holidays, can they?"

"Well, Neville does not have a good memory, but it seems unlikely that he would forget he had a friend. And Hermione doesn't forget anything, ever. I agree that it's weird."

"Maybe something unexpected has come up … They might have gone on a holiday they didn't know was planned ... or they fell ill ..."

"Both of them?" Tom asked sceptically.

Yes, that seemed unlikely. "It's possible that one of them fell ill and the other went on a holiday," mused Harry. "Or something's wrong with the owl delivery. Hermione lives in a Muggle neighbourhood. Can we be sure that it even works?"

"Given that wizards stick to it, I would assume that it does. Pretty stupid to keep relying on owls for centuries if letters rarely make it to the addressee. Though it wouldn't be the first illogical thing wizards have done …"

"I wish I had gotten Hermione's Muggle address," sighed Harry wistfully, "then I could just send her a letter by mail."

"Well, that should be easy enough to find out: Her parents are dentists. Look in the phone directory and see if you can find their practice."

That was why Harry was so happy to have Tom. He always had brilliant and smart ideas, and this one (as most others) worked out perfectly. It wasn't hard at all to find the Grangers, who lived in Hamstead Garden Suburb in the north of London. He even found their private address at number 8 Heathgate.

Harry immediately penned a letter to his friend, telling her that so far, he hadn't received a reply to his letters, neither from her nor from Neville. He asked if everything was alright with them or if maybe the owl delivery didn't work as reliably as wizards claimed. He told her that his summer had been rather boring so far and that he'd be happy to hear from them, as he was missing them already. To be on the safe side, he asked Hermione to send her reply by Muggle post – if she still wanted to correspond with him, that was.

It didn't take long for an answer to arrive this time. Harry, who usually picked up the mail from the letterbox, quickly hid the envelope addressed to him, just in case his relatives objected to him having friends, and only opened it when he had left the house.

'Dear Harry!', he read. I'm so glad you wrote to me and gave me your Muggle address! Hopefully, this letter will arrive, as it seems all the others haven't. I replied to all of your letters, and Hedwig took off with them immediately! It's really weird that she didn't arrive with them! Owls are very reliable from what Neville told me, who was also wondering why you didn't respond to any of the things he said or asked in his letter to you. How peculiar that your letters arrived safely, but ours didn't!

If this works out I will tell Neville to send his letters to me first, so I can put them in the Muggle post. Neville is not at all familiar with it.

"There, I told you!" said Tom. "Something is definitely fishy. How did Hedwig lose the letters? I can't imagine she would drop them intentionally."

"No, she'd never! I'd suspect the Dursleys, but I'm not sure they even realized that I sent Hedwig out with letters."

Harry continued reading Hermione's really long letter. She told him about her holidays and the assignments she had done so far, and expressed outrage at the fact that Harry couldn't do his and wondered if he had even gotten his new supply list if letters by owl didn't get through to him. Apparently, they were going to have a very famous wizard as a teacher for Defence this year: A certain Gilderoy Lockhart whom Hermione couldn't wait to meet. She invited Harry over to her place and suggested meeting in Diagon Alley, so they could do their shopping together. If his relatives were okay with that, Harry could stay with the Grangers the week before they had to leave for Hogwarts, and her parents would bring them both to King's Cross. She had also invited Neville to stay with her and thought it might be interesting to show him around in the Muggle world.

"Do you think they'll let me?" Harry wondered aloud, sounding hopeful. "After all, Hermione's parents are Muggles, and dentists! And they live in a really fancy suburb, so they're probably pretty well off."

Tom snorted. "You still don't get your aunt, Harry. She's eaten up with jealousy. She won't let you have anything she doesn't have herself if she can prevent it, not magic and not rich, upper class friends. She will point out that Hermione's still one of you demon-cursed freaksfor being able to do magic. Don't even bother asking her or she'll lock you up for the remainder of the holidays."

Harry sighed. "If she does that, will we tell her that wizards are prone to self-incineration, too, if locked up and unhappy?"

Tom snickered. "Easier yet, just tell Hermione a date and go to Diagon yourself. You can ask her for the Muggle address of the Leaky Cauldron. We'll just catch a train. Aunt Petunia will be very upset, but what does it matter if you don't return before next summer? She will have forgotten the specific reason for being upset with you by then and just be upset with you on principle."

"What about my stuff?"

"You need new books and new clothes anyway, and you also wanted to get a bigger trunk. Maybe you can also get a new wand."

"I think I'll keep that in mind as plan B. Let's see how that important business dinner goes next Saturday. Aunt Petunia might be in a good mood if Uncle Vernon gets the deal, and allow me to go and let me take all my stuff. If not, we can still sneak out at night."

Harry asked Hermione for the Muggle address of the Leaky Cauldron and suggested Monday the 25th for meeting the Grangers in Diagon. If her parents were really willing to have him over until Monday the 1st, Harry would be happy to stay.

Much happier with the prospect of meeting his friends soon, Harry didn't even mind that his birthday passed unacknowledged by the Dursleys, as always. Hermione had sent him two birthday cards – hers and Neville's, confirmed their meeting and stay with the Grangers and told him he would get his presents when they met.

The entire Saturday before the Masons – important customers-to-be of Grunnings, the company Vernon worked for - were expected to arrive for dinner, Aunt Petunia worked Harry to death. Everything had to be perfect – the kitchen spick and span, the car shiny, the flowerbeds extra weed-free and the lawn perfectly mown. Harry was just re-painting the garden shed (which had to be perfectly white for some reason), when he suddenly caught a glimpse of movement in the hedge. Looking closer, Harry thought he saw a pair of huge eyes staring at him, but Dudley came out that moment to offer Harry a piece of wisdom (or what he considered witty) and the next second, the eyes were gone.

"Tom, did you just …"

"Yes, I saw them, too. No idea, though, what they might belong to."

"Maybe a stray dog?"

"It must be huge to have a head with enough space for eyes the size of tennis-balls!"

Whatever it was, Harry had forgotten all about it by the time the dinner table was perfectly laid, the dessert was perfectly decorated with sugary flowers, Aunt Petunia's hair was perfectly styled and Dudley and Vernon came down looking perfectly ridiculous with their matching bow ties.

Harry was sent up to his room with a snack and emphatically told to remain there and be quiet as a mouse. He was perfectly happy with that.

He'd spend the evening with his latest mystery novel, Tom would read another science book and afterwards, they'd practice their telekinetic powers, as they did every night before bedtime. Meanwhile, Uncle Vernon would try to charm the owner of some important company into buying drills from Uncle Vernon's company. And then, tomorrow, Aunt Petunia would be so happy that she'd allow Harry to visit the Grangers.

Except that nothing, really nothing, went according to plan.

A/N: For all of you who don't remember: Yes, there used to be phone books that had everybody's number and address in it! If you knew a person's name, you could look it up or call directory assistance. Seems like a century ago! :D