Summary of the last chapter:

Harry is back with the Dursleys, who reluctantly allow him to keep Hedwig. Although he sends her out with letters to his friends, he doesn't get any replies . At Tom's suggestion, Harry contacts Hermione the Muggle way and learns that his friends' letters got lost in transit. Hermione invites him to spend the last week of the holidays with her, and Harry hopes that he'll be allowed to go. It'll probably all depend on how well the evening with potential customers of Uncle Vernon goes … While making sure that everything is perfect for the evening, Harry sees a pair of huge eyes in the garden hedge, which are gone again before he can take a closer look.

A/N: Thank you to my guest reviewers whom I can't reply in person!

Meetings and Run-ins

Harry had not expected to find the mystery owner of the huge eyes waiting for him on his bed. It was a peculiar little creature who introduced himself as Dobby the house-elf. Harry hadn't even known such a species existed, which seemed to be related to goblins, but had bigger, more bulging eyes, a shriller voice and seemed to be overly emotional (or at least, this one was). Everything Harry said seemed to elicit a very strong response in the little thing, and nothing Harry said could calm him down or convince him to stop his whining, grovelling and wailing and just be quiet.

Harry was in dire straits when uncle Vernon came up, furious about the ruckus Harry was making in his room. Harry barely managed to hide Dobby in the (freshly tidied-up) wardrobe.

"Stop it!" Harry hissed at the creature. "You're getting me into big trouble!"

"Oh no!" whined the elf. "Dobby wants to prevent Harry Potter from getting into trouble! That's why he has come to warn him that he must not go back to Hogwarts!"

"What?"

And to Harry's great astonishment, the little elf told him something about a nefarious plot being hatched and most horrible things being about to happen at the school this year. He could not tell Harry what terrible things or who was behind it – in fact, even asking him for such information sent him into another bout of wailing and hitting his head against the walls in punishment for being a bad and traitorous elf.

"But I have to go back to Hogwarts!" said Harry, before Tom could stop him from upsetting the elf with his honesty. "Everything worth living for is there – my friends are there!"

A sly expression showed on the creature's face. "Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?" he asked.

"How do you … oh! It's you who's been stealing my mail!" Harry was too perplexed to even work up righteous anger. After all, he had successfully worked around the act of sabotage. The elf apologized and assured Harry that it was all in his best interest. He even offered to give him the missed letters in exchange for the promise not to go back to Hogwarts.

This time, Tom managed to stop Harry before he could blurt out 'over my dead body' or something along such lines. "Okay," said Harry instead, though he was still not really comfortable with lying. "I promise."

"You do?" The elf seemed sceptical.

"Yes. You said I'd be in mortal peril if I went. So I won't. It's not as if I like being in mortal peril."

"Then Dobby's work here is done!" declared the elf solemnly and gave Harry his letters. "It was an honour meeting you, Harry Potter!" He bowed, snapped his fingers, and was gone.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the spot from where he had vanished. "Just what the heck was that?"

"I have no idea," said Tom, equally flummoxed. "But I can tell you this: house-elves are bound to their masters and must do as they are told. Usually, they love doing as they're told and are very loyal. For them to go against their master is practically unheard of."

"You know about house-elves?" Harry asked Tom in surprise.

"I've read plenty of books on how wizarding society works, Harry. It's important knowledge."

"Then I'm glad that you have it. So you're saying Dobby wasn't behaving like a normal elf?"

"From what I read, they never take the initiative, even though they probably could. They have powers wizards know nothing about and, weirdly, are not interested in researching. Which is stupid, if you ask me. Look what Dobby did – he must have manipulated Hedwig somehow. Once we're back you should ask Hagrid to see if there's still something wrong with her. He might not know much, but he knows his creatures."

"What Dobby said, about something sinister being planned … do you think there's anything to it?"

"Either that or the elf was deranged. Both seem equally likely. But I don't see what we could do about it in either case."

"We could tell Professor Snape."

"Yeah, let's do that when we get back. At least he knows by now to expect the unexpected when it comes to you. He might even believe you."

*'*'*'*'*'*

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's evening hadn't gone as planned either. The perfect cake with its delicate sugar flowers had unfortunately caused Mrs. Mason to crack a tooth. Although she could hardly blame Aunt Petunia for that, she was so upset that she and her husband left immediately to see an emergency dentist. Uncle Vernon never heard from Mr. Mason again. Her husband's constant moping had Aunt Petunia still in a really bad mood when Harry told her about his plans to meet with the Grangers a few days later. The fact that they were dentists didn't work in their favour, either.

Her answer was a definite 'no', just as Tom had predicted, and the following days were not nice for Harry. When he was taunted mercilessly by Dudley, who seemed to have forgotten over the course of the school year that Harry was perfectly capable of defending himself, Harry cracked and set some garden snakes on him to remind him, which made him run to mummy. It was all the excuse Petunia had needed to lock Harry into his room.

In a fit of pure malice, Vernon, who somehow blamed the noise Harry had made for the failed deal (he'd blame Harry for the weather if it suited his mood), put bars on his bedroom window. It would have greatly disturbed Harry if it hadn't been for the bolt latch installed on his bedroom door to keep him locked in. It was the same as the one on his cupboard, which Harry and Tom had been able to open easily even before Hogwarts. The window bars, thankfully, were wide enough for Hedwig to pass through.

So they just waited for the 25 th to come and used the time to finish reading the books they had borrowed from the library. Harry also wrote a letter to Hagrid, telling him about their issue with return mail being intercepted and requested that he keep Hedwig in Hogwarts and check her for malicious spells.

In the early morning of the 25 th , Harry and Tom opened the door and sneaked out of the house, again with nothing but Harry's backpack. It contained his PJ's and the library books, which they dropped into the return box on their way to the train station.

Harry was rather relaxed about going to London all by himself this time, given that he had made a similar journey the year before. Thanks to his Gringotts pouch, he didn't even have to worry about money. He found the Leaky Cauldron easily enough and wondered why no Muggle seemed to question the existence of the small, seemingly deserted and very much out of fashion pub in the middle of a highly trafficked and probably expensive street.

It was only half past eight and the Leaky Cauldron had very few customers. Harry asked the barman to open the brick wall for him, as he didn't have a wand and didn't know the combination. The barman – a hunchback named Tom – was eager to help, and soon Harry was walking down a still rather sleepy Diagon Alley.

Fortunately, Ollivander's was open already, though he didn't have a lot of traffic at this time of day. Unfortunately though, Harry wasn't able to buy another wand. Mr. Ollivander explained that unless his wand stopped working for him for some reason, he wouldn't find another good match – apparently, owning a wand was a bit like having a spouse: You wouldn't get a new or a second one while still happily married to the first. Apart from that problem, Harry's wand was registered with the Ministry. It served as ID in the wizarding world, so naturally, having a second wand was not entirely legal.

"Of course," said Ollivander, "wands are often passed down in the family and kept as heirlooms. Sometimes, a deceased relative's wand might work for you. Sometimes, the heir of one or multiple wands might decide to sell them to other wizards on the quiet, so there are quite a few wizards who do own a second wand."

Harry was disheartened at hearing that. He definitely couldn't return to Surrey and beg his relatives to release his trunk. This was probably an issue his wizarding representative – a.k.a Professor Snape – would have to deal with on Harry's behalf. Everything else was replaceable, his wand apparently not.

For now, Harry would concentrate on getting all the other things he needed so that he wouldn't arrive unprepared for classes again. The first thing Harry bought himself was a new trunk. One with much more space for books than his old one. To Harry's delight, there even was a trunk so spacious that Harry could climb inside by a built-in ladder – into a small room with lots of storage space in shelves and cupboards along the walls. It was rather expensive, but Harry thought it was a good investment. The shop owner assured him that it could be delivered with a built-in Muggle repellent charm.

"What do they do?" Harry asked interestedly.

"Why – make sure that no Muggle takes notice of the trunk, not even if you put it right in front of their noses."

"That's brilliant!" exclaimed Harry happily. This would make sure that – should he find himself back with the Dursleys next summer – they would not lock away his trunk again. "I'll definitely have that!"

He also ordered a 'sensible weight charm' for the trunk. It cost considerably less than a featherlight charm, but would ensure that no matter how much Harry put into it, it would weigh no more than a trunk of its apparent size would weigh if fully packed. It also allowed him to order another awesome feature: A hover charm, which would keep the trunk afloat as long as Harry had his hand on the handle.

The shop assistant assured him that they would have his customized trunk ready for pick-up in two hours, which suited Harry just fine. Dragging a floating trunk behind him while doing the rest of his shopping seemed impractical.

Very happy with his purchase, Harry left the store. It was still some time before he would meet with the Grangers, and Harry was hungry. He had not eaten very much in the last days he had been confined to his room, as he had been handed a fixed plate with no option for seconds. And he also hadn't eaten any breakfast today.

Harry strolled around the slowly awakening alley, on the lookout for a restaurant more appealing than the Leaky Cauldron. There was Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, but that was not a sensible choice for breakfast on an empty stomach, and it wasn't even open yet. Harry spotted a promising looking pub sign featuring a sort of dragon in a side alley and headed toward it. The pub named 'The White Wyvern' was situated between a pawnbroker and a shop that promised 'indelible tattoos'.

Tom stopped him before he could enter it though. "Uhm, Harry ... I'm not entirely sure of this location. Your empty stomach has you so fixated on the image of bacon, sausages and eggs that you completely overlooked the rather shady looking witch on the corner who is selling what I think looked a lot like human fingernails. You also didn't take notice of the shop sign that said 'Coffin House' but didn't seem to sell something as harmless as coffins, and walked right past 'Shyverwretch's Venoms and Poisons'."

"I did?" Harry stopped dead in his tracks and looked around. What Tom said was true – the entire alley was pretty shady, and so were the people who loitered about. Some of them were casting curious glances at Harry – and some were on the creepy side of curious. Harry turned on his heels and hurried back the way he'd come, only to bump right into a man with long, blond hair who was just stepping out of a shop.

"Watch where you're going, you stupid …"

Harry looked up at the man who was now staring at him with a very surprised expression.

"Mr. Potter. This is quite an unexpected encounter."

"Excuse me, Sir," said Harry with a frown. The man looked vaguely familiar, though Harry was sure that he had never seen him in his life. "I don't think I know you. But I'm sorry for bumping into you like that."

"Indeed. If I may offer a piece of advice: This is no place for a child. I wouldn't allow my son to roam Knockturn Alley all by himself."

"I think that might be Draco's father," offered Tom. "That's why he seems familiar. The same light blond hair, the same air of arrogance, the obviously expensive robes … he even speaks in a similar manner."

"Thank you," Harry said coldly to Mr. Malfoy. "I had already realized that and was on my way back to Diagon Alley when I accidentally bumped into you. If you don't mind …" Harry looked pointedly to the alley behind Malfoy's back, which he was currently blocking by standing there like a king holding court.

"Of course." Malfoy gave him the hint of an insincere, almost mocking smile and stepped aside.

Harry reciprocated with a small, almost imperceptible nod and moved past him.

"Well, that was scary," he said to Tom when they were finally back in sunlit Diagon Alley, which was much more lively now than an hour ago.

"Creepy. Not only the alley, but Malfoy, too. There was something about him … I don't know. Like a dark vibe."

"Maybe you're projecting your negative impression of Draco onto his father," Harry teased Tom, citing from one of his favourite psychology books."

Tom refused to be provoked. "No, I'm not. Have you seen the shop he was exiting? Borgin and Burkes."

"Doesn't mean anything to me."

"To me neither. But there was a withered hand in the display, a stack of bloodstained cards and what looked like torture devices. I wish I could convince myself that it was one of those Halloween supply stores."

Harry shivered. "Let's head back to the Leaky. If Hermione's parents are anything like her, they might be there early."

Indeed they were. Harry and Tom spotted their friend at a corner table, waving excitedly when she saw Harry. Harry was introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Granger and invited to sit down with them. Just like last year when Harry had met her for the first time, Hermione couldn't seem to stop talking: She told Harry about things she had done in the last two months, things she planned on doing while Harry was with them and, of course, all the things they were going to do today.

Her mother finally managed to calm her down a bit and Hermione gave Harry a contrite smile. "Sorry! I'm just so happy to see you and be back here again! Shall we start with the book store then?"

"Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to get something to eat first. I haven't had breakfast yet …"

"Oh, that's a wonderful idea," agreed Mr. Granger. "We've only had some toast and muesli, and I could eat something myself. Do you think wizard locations serve a full English?" He turned around and waved for Tom, the barkeeper.

A full English breakfast was universal in the Muggle and Wizarding world alike, and soon, they were chatting over eggs, sausages, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms and bread.

Hermione showed Harry the supply list that had arrived via owl. "It's really a shame that Hogwarts can't seem to make sure that you get your letters!" she said indignantly.

"Actually, I found out what caused the issue. It wasn't Hogwarts' fault this time." Harry told her about Dobby, the odd house-elf, which got Hermione going again, especially after Harry explained what he had learned from Tom. "But that means they're slaves!" she said, horrified. "And they punish themselves by hitting their head on walls or ironing their fingers? That's terrible! I can't believe nothing's being done about it!"

"We'll have to do some research on that," said Harry, knowing that it was the fastest way to shut Hermione up if she got too carried away with something. Besides, it was also Harry's usual approach to any problem.

Hermione nodded, made a mental note to check the library for books on house-elves and focused back on their to-do list.

"You know, you're getting really good at that psychology stuff yourself," said Tom to Harry.

"Well, there's this guy I know who keeps reading books and won't stop telling me about them …" Harry joked and grinned, then turned to Hermione. "Is Neville coming as well?"

"He and his grandmother will meet us at the bookstore," answered his friend, and her face took on an excited, almost hungry expression when she added: "That's where we should head first – it's the most important stop, after all!"