The last month had been horrible.
As soon as me and Harry stepped inside of Privet Drive, everything that had to do with school was taken from us. Our robes, books, wands, and anything else that Uncle Vernon deemed "deadly", the only exception being Hedwig, and Uric, whom were both locked in their cages, and not let out.
Any mention of Hogwarts was also forbidden. If we so much as gave a hint of our quote on quote abnormalities in the houses...well it wasn't pleasant.
The only positive was our continued use of Dudley's old second room. Both me and Harry at least had room to stretch our legs, and it was fun to spend more time with Harry, even if I was still slightly upset he'd almost gotten himself killed. Still, it was nice to have someone to go through this hell with, I shuddered what it would be like If either of us were an only child.
The last month had also been disappointing on another front, none of our friends had sent us so much as a scrap of mail. I had constantly cursed myself for not giving Lisa my phone number, at least then I see why neither she, or Anthony, or anyone had sent us anything...not even for our birthday. Which the Dursley's didn't seem to remember...which wasn't all the surprising.
"Third time this week!" Uncle Vernon's yelling took me out of my thoughts, and I turned to him. "If you two can't control those owls ,they'll have to go!"
I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes, another rant about Hedwig and Uric.
"They're bored, "Harry replied, trying to explain, "They're used to flying around outside. If we could just let them out at night -"
"Do I look stupid?" Uncle Vernon snarled in response, and I had to hold back a laugh at the fried egg hanging from his mustache "I know what'll happen if those owl's are let out."
"We could actually talk with our friends." I murmured under my breath.
"What did you say girl?" Vernon asked dangerously.
"Nothing. "I replied, and Vernon gave me one last look, before turning to Petunia with a dark expression on his face.
"Come on, I promise we won..." Harry's pleas were interrupted when Dudley let our a large, disgusting, belch.
"I want more bacon." Dudley demanded, slamming his fist on the table.
"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," Aunt Petunia replied, looking at her son, her eyes started to tear up. "We must build you up while we've got the chance… I don't like the sound of that school food…"
"Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings," Uncle Vernon said assuredly. "Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?"
For once I had to agree with Uncle Vernon, well, really thought the boys got to much. Given the fact his fat was hanging off both sides of the chair.
Dudley grinning, turned to me.
"Pass the frying pan." He ordered.
Of course, one of the first things that happened to me when I returned to Privet Drive, was being reinstated as the families cook. Every meal, every desert was my responsibility, and Dudley liked to eat... a lot.
I sighed and started to hand him the pan, were loads of bacon was stacked, when Harry held our his hand and turned to Dudley.
"You've forgotten the magic word," Harry told him, irritably.
Time seemed to freeze for a moment as the Dursley's realized what Harry had just said, then chaos erupted. Dudley gasped in horror, and loudly fell off his chair with a loud thud. Aunt Petunia screamed, clapped her hands to her mouth, and looked ready to faint. While Uncle Vernon stood up, a furious look on his face.
Harry quickly realized what he'd said, and tried to explain himself.
"I meant 'please'!" Harry quickly replied. "I didn't mean —"
"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU TWO" Uncle Vernon roared at Harry, while I backed up to avoid to spit coming from his mouth, onto the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"
"But I —" Harry tried meekly.
"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!" Vernon continued, pounding the table with his fists.
"I just —" Harry again tried.
"I WARNED BOTH OF YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITES UNDER THIS ROOF!"
Harry turned from the purple face Vernon, to the pale faced Petunia, whom was helping Dudley up from the floor, then sighed in defeat.
"All right," Harry finally replied, "all right…"
Uncle Vernon sat back down, taking Heavy breaths, while watching Harry out of the corner of his eyes. I looked down at spit covered table, and grimaced, before walking over to the kitchen, grabbing a wash rag, then turned the water on and waited for it to warm up...
While waiting I thought of the last month. This was hardly the first time he'd yelled at one, or both, of us. Yes we always had been treated poorly by the Dursley's, but now it was...different. Instead of the cold contempt they used to treat us with, we were now treated like ticking timebombs, and even though I enjoyed the look of fear on there faces, it still was rather ridiculous.
"What are you doing, girl?" Uncle Vernon asked me suspiciously as I walked over to the table with the wash cloth.
"I was going to clean the table, you..." I replied, nodding at the table to the spit. Vernon looked at the wash cloth like I'd poisoned it, then finally nodded.
"This table better be sparkling." He said, giving me a warning look. I ignored it and looked down at the table. "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day." He continued, and out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Harry look up in hope.
"Our birthday." I said suddenly, not even looking up from the table, though I could tell Vernon was glaring at me. "I mean, it is." I finished, as I wiped the last of the spit from the table.
"This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career," Uncle Vernon finally replied, not even acknowledging what I said, and Harry looked down at the ground is disappointment.
It took all of my self control not to roll my eyes. Of course, I knew they wouldn't even think of our birthday, in fact I was pretty sure he'd deliberately planned his stupid business dinner just to spite us. The worst part was that I would be forced to cook the meal, it would have to be perfect, and I wouldn't get any of it...joy.
"I think we should run through the schedule one more time," Uncle Vernon began. "We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be —?"
"In the lounge," Aunt Petunia replied promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."
"Good, good. And Dudley?" Uncle Vernon continued, turning eagerly to his son.
I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley replied, putting on the fakest smile I'd ever seen. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"
"They'll love him!" Aunt Petunia said, having to hold back tears of joy.
"Excellent, Dudley," Uncle Vernon replied with a satisfied voice, he then turned and looked at me and Harry with a dark expression. "And you two?"
"I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," Harry replied, with no emotion in his voice.
"I'll be doing exactly what he is." I added, and Vernon gave a rough nod.
"Exactly," Uncle Vernon replied nastily. "I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eight-fifteen —"
"I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia, and I growled at the fact that I would have made most of it.
"And, Dudley, you'll say —"
"May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" Dudley replied, holding out his chubby arm to a fake women.
"My perfect little gentleman!" Aunt Petunia replied, sniffing and wiping away a tear from her cheek.
"And you two?" Uncle Vernon asked us with a vicious tone.
"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," Harry replied dully.
"Again, what he said." I replied, not even looking up from the sink where I was now doing dishes.
"Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"
"Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason… Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason…"
"Perfect… Dudley?"
"How about —'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you.'"
Supposedly, that was the breaking point for both Aunt Petunia and Harry. Aunt Petunia because her perfect little boy was so perfect, and Harry because Dudley was just so...fake. Harry ducked under the table to hide the fact that he was laughing, while Aunt Petunia began to openly weep, and pulled gave her son a massive hug.
"This is pure comedy." I said to myself shaking my head, as I finished the last of the dishes.
Uncle Vernon looked at his son proudly, before turning his dark gaze back at us. "And you two?"
"We'll be in our room, making no noise and pretending we're not there," I replied, as Harry came up from underneath the table, trying to keep a straight face.
"What she said." He said, doing everything in his power not to burst into laughter.
"Too right, you will." Uncle Vernon told us forcefully. "The Masons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way. When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten. Be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time tomorrow."
Like the Dursley's would ever actually take us to Majorca...
"Right — I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you two," He turned to us snarling. "You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning."
Me and Harry glanced at each other, then strode into the back yard, hoping at least a few minutes away from the Dursleys. We both sat down on the garden bench.
"Happy birthday to us… happy birthday to us…"Harry sang, barely above a whisper. I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"It'll be fine." I said, trying to assure him. He nodded, but stared at the hedge, clearly he didn't believe me.
We were both silent for a moment, until Harry finally spoke.
"Why hasn't anyone written to us?" He asked, the sadness evident in his voice.
"I don't know...Anthony and Lisa are both abroad, but I assumed they would have sent something. What about Ron and Hermione? They go anywhere?"
"No...heck Ron even invited us to his house? Then he doesn't even write? It makes me feel...well like all of it was fake, like no one cares..."
I instantly stood up, grabbed Harry shoulders, and looked him in the eyes.
"Harry, don't think like that." I said firmly, and he looked at me surprised. "They do care."
"I know...it's just. Why haven't they written?" Harry asked, and I sighed.
"I don't know."
"Heck...I'd even do with seeing Malfoy, at least then I'd know it wasn't just some dream me and you had." Harry admitted, then shook his head, and looked past me out the hedge again.
"It'll be okay..." I said, trying to assure him, but was interrupted as Harry sat up, and looked intently at the hedges.
"What is that?" He asked me as he stood up, and I turned around to look at the hedges, and for a split second...I swear I saw a pair of massive green eyes staring at us.
"I know what day it is," Dudley's singing voice made me jump, and Harry roll his eyes our cousin nearly danced his way over to us, I took one last look at the hedge...but nothing was there.
"What?" Harry replied, not taking his away from the hedge.
"I know what day it is," Dudley repeated, walking right up to us with a look of glee.
"Friday." I replied in a monotone voice.
"Well done," Harry added. "So you've finally learned the days of the week like the rest of us."
"Today's your birthday," Dudley sneered at us. "How come you two haven't got any cards? Haven't you got friends at that freak place?"
"Of course we do." I replied, narrowing my eyes at the boy, which only made him grin more.
"Besides, you better not let your mum hear you talking about our school," Harry added coolly.
Dudley, still grinned as he pulled up his trousers over his fat gut.
"Why're you staring at the hedge?" he asked both of us.
"I'm admiring it's beauty." I replied instantly, Dudley looked at me like he knew I was lying, and Harry shrugged nonchalantly.
"Unlike my dear sister here." He began, patting me on the shoulder. "I was just trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire,"
Dudley's grin turned to fear as he took a few step backwards, I gave Harry a disapproving look, he just continued to grin, and I shook my head sighing.
"He we go again." I mumbled under my breath.
"You c-can't — Dad told you you're not to do m-magic — he said he'll chuck you out of the house — and you haven't got anywhere else to go — you haven't got any friends to take you —" Dudley's stammered out, and I scowled as I was reminded of Professor Quirrell.
"Jiggery pokery!" Harry began in a firece voice."Hocus pocus — squiggly wiggly —"
"MUUUUUUM!" Dudley howled in terror, nearly tripping as he ran back towards the house. "MUUUUM! They're doing you know what!"
Aunt Petunia instantly shrieked in terror, and ran out. Of course Harry, nor I, had actually done any magic, but Harry's fake threat was enough to make her take a swing at us with her soaping frying pan, Harry was able to duck, while I...
"Ow." I said, gripping the side of my head where she'd got me.
"Quit your whining." Aunt Petunia scolded after taking a couple deep breaths.
I glanced over at Harry, whom looked at me guiltily and mouthed sorry. Aunt Petunia, finally seeing Harry hadn't done actually done any magic, calmed down, then dragged both of us back inside the house.
"You troublesome freaks." She mumbled to herself as we reentered the kitchen. Then turned to us, and crossed her arms. "Since you've proven not to be able to keep out of trouble, I'm forced to put you to work, you won't eat until everything is done, understood?" She asked, her tone leaving no room for debate.
"Yes Aunt Petunia." We both replied in defeated tones.
"You better." She said, then turned to Harry. "You will start by cleaning the windows." She ordered, and we both knew that was just the start to Harry's workload, he sighed then went off to find a washcloth.
"As for you." She said, turning to me. "You're not bleeding are you?" She asked, looking at where she'd hit me with the frying pan. I was shocked that, supposedly, she cared enough to even ask...
"No..." I replied.
"Good, wouldn't want you getting blood in the house." She snapped, and I had almost chuckled, of course she didn't care...
"Now, you will be helping me prepare for dinner. Any mess-ups at all will result in dire consequences, understood?" She asked in a dangerous tone.
"Yes Aunt Petunia." I again replied in a defeated tone.
"Good, now you can start by getting the roast out of the freezer..."
For the rest of the day I was Aunt Petunia slave. Forced to fetch this, or stir that. The worst part was the fact that neither I nor Harry would be allowed to eat any of it, yet I was forced to help make it. If it wasn't the fact I was used to this treatment, I would have been furious, but given that this was only the latest example of the Dursley's treatment of us...I was used to it.
Even if helping cook was horrible, Harry had it far worse. After finishing with the windows, he was forced to wash the car, then mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, before repainting the garden bench.
The worse part was Dudley watching us, of course he didn't have to do anything. All he did was go back and for between watching TV, or grinning at me and Harry as we worked, and eating ice cream cone after ice cream cone. Eventually, Aunt Petunia had me temporally take over, while she went and changed into a salmon-pink cocktail dress. I was tempted to take a bite of roast, or a scoop of pudding...but decided it was better not to risk it.
When Aunt Petunia walked back in she examined everything suspiciously, then pulled out a loaf of bread and a lump of cheese. She cut two four thin pieces in total, then a small scoops of cheese, then placed our "dinner" on the table. I sat down and quietly ate, while Aunt Petunia looked outside at Harry.
"Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!" She screamed, and Harry tiredly stumbled over. He looked sunburnt, and I grimaced at the back of his neck...
"Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" She snapped at Harry, pointing at his small plate. Harry quickly stuffed it down about the same time I finished, the instantly grabbed both our plates.
"Upstairs! Hurry!" She demanded, as we both began to flee upstairs to our room. We both caught glimpses of Uncle Vernon and Dudley, both sporting bow ties and dinner jackets. We had just reached the top of the stair's when the doorbell rang, and Uncle Vernon looked up as us with a furious look.
"Remember, both of you — one sound —" He warned us, as we tiptoed into our room, and silently shut the door. Both of us, exhausted for the full day of work, moved to lay down...
"Wh..." I almost shouted but stopped, Harry also looked close to yelling but was able to hold back.
On our bed was a...creature of some kind. It had green, bulging eyes that looked the size of tennis balls, and ears that were shaped like a bats. I instantly thought of the hedge from earlier...and realized this creature must have been watching us earlier.
We both stared at the creature, then looked at each other, Harry clearly hoping I knew what it was.
"No Idea. "I mouthed to him.
"May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?" Dudley's fake politeness echoed through the awkward silence, as we took in the creature in front of us.
For another second no one moved until, finally, the creature slowly climbed off our bed, then bowed so low that his long nose touched the floor, and we both noticed the creature seemed to be wearing a disgusting pillowcase, with rips for it's arms and legs.
"Er — hello," said Harry nervously.
"Hi." I added, equally as.
"Harry Potter!" The creature yelled in a high pitched voice that I was sure could be heard downstairs. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir… Such an honor it is…"
"Th-thank you," Harry replied, itching along our wall to the desk chair next the Hedwig. The creature seemed to completely ignore me...
"Who are you?" Harry asked in a low voice as he sat down.
"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf," the creature replied modestly.
"Oh — really? Harry began, clearly nervous the Dursley's would hear. "Er — I don't want to be rude or anything, but — this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom." Harry explained, and I nodded in agreement.
Dobby hung his head, as Aunt Petunia's high, fake, laugh we heard downstairs.
"Not that I'm not pleased to meet you," Harry replied quickly, "but, er, is there any particular reason you're here?"
"Oh, yes, sir," Dobby replied earnestly. "Dobby has come to tell you, sir… it is difficult, sir… Dobby wonders where to begin…"
As Dobby spoke, I noticed he seemed to be ignoring me entirely. In fact other than when he stared at both of us, he hadn't even made eye contact with me.
"Sit down," Harry said, motioning to our bed, but the kind offer only made Dobby burst into tears...loud tears.
S-sit down!" he wailed. "Never… never ever…"
Downstairs, you could hear voices falter...
"I'm sorry," Harry replied in a whisper, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything —"
"Offend Dobby!" choked the elf. "Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard — like an equal —"
"Shh!" Harry said, trying to get Dobby to calm down, while comfort him at the same time. Harry helped him onto our bed, where he finally calmed down after a few more minutes of crying. "You can't have met many decent wizards," Harry told him, trying to cheer the elf up.
Dobby instantly shook his head. Then, without warning, jumped up and instantly began hitting his head against the window
"Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" He shouted.
"Don't — what are you doing?" Harry hissed.
"Stop." I tried to warn him, as both me and Harry pulled the house elf away from the window, and back onto the bed, but not before Uric, and Hedwig were both woken up and screeching and hitting there cage bars...
"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," Dobby began, and I noticed he had gone crossed eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir…"
"Your family?" Harry asked.
"Your family treats you like this." I added, looking in pity at the elf, though still Dobby seemed determined to ignore me and avoided eye contact.
"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir… Dobby is a house-elf — bound to serve one house and one family forever…"
"Do they know you're here?" Harry asked curiously.
"Who are they?" I added.
Dobby just shuddered
"Oh, no, sir, no… Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir —"
"Shove your ear's in the oven? "I asked in horror, the house elf finally looked at me and nodded, but when he met my eyes he flinched, and instantly looked away...
Was Dobby...scared of me.
"But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?" Harry asked, snapping me out of my confusion.
"Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments…"
"That's horrible. "I said, and Dobby again flinched as I spoke.
What had I done to him?
"But why don't you leave? Escape?" Harry asked
"A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free… Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir…" Dobby explained, and both me and Harry stared at him in pity.
"And I thought I had it bad staying here for another four weeks," Harry said. "This makes the Dursleys sound almost human. Can't anyone help you? Can't I?"
As soon as Harry finished speaking, Dobby dissolved again into wails of gratitude. Both me Harry looked at each other in terror, how much longer until Vernon stormed up here...
"Please," Harry whispered frantically, "please be quiet. If the Dursleys hear anything, if they know you're here —"
Harry's pleading did nothing, and I decided to try...anything to get the elf to calm down. I grabbed Dobby by the shoulders. He stopped crying only to be frozen in what seemed like...fear. I shook off the feeling, and tried to calm the creature down.
"Please, if the Dursley's knew you're up here..."I began, but interrupted as Dobby broke away, hiding behind Harry in terror.
"You are the other Potter..."Dobby began in fear, me and Harry shared a confused look, I then turned back to Dobby and nodded.
"Yes..." I replied, and Dobby shuddered.
"The other Potter is friends with young master. I plead with you not to tell young master... Dobby only wishes to protect Harry Potter." Dobby said, falling to his knees before me, and I felt a mix of confusion, and Pity.
"Who is this young master?" I asked, wondering who I was friends with that could be this cruel. Dobby opened his mouth, only to pause and start banging his head against
"Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" The elf said, now banging his head against the dresser, and again me and Harry worked together to stop him.
"Please...if there's anything we can do to help we will, but please be quiet." Harry begged, and once again Dobby looked at Harry in awe.
"Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby… Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew…"
Harry looked red in the face "Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I'm not even top of my year at Hogwarts; that's Hermione, she —"
Harry looked down, clearly Hermione was still a sore spot for him. I walked over, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"It's okay Harry." I said trying to comfort him, though he didn't look convinced.
"Harry Potter is humble and modest," Dobby replied, his voice full of reverence and his eyes full of a honored look "Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named —"
"Voldemort?" Harry replied, and both me and Dobby jumped at the same time, Dobby putting his hands over his ears in terror.
"Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!" He begged, and I nodded.
"I know what Dumbledore said...but I would prefer if you didn't. "I added.
"Sorry," Harry told both of us. "I know lots of people don't like it. My friend Ron —"
Harry again stopped, and again I looked at him in pity.
"They've haven't forgotten about you Harry." I tried to assure him.
"Easy for you to say, both your friend's our on vacation." Harry snapped at me, and I widened my eyes in shock, Harry instantly looked regretful. "Sorry, it's just...at least we know why your friend's haven't... reached out...On the other hand, mine are still here and have...forgotten me." Harry said bitterly, and I sighed, shaking my head.
"I'm sure there's a reason." I replied, shaking off the bitterness in his voice, and once again trying to assure him.
We turned our attention back to Dobby, who was now leaning towards Harry.
"Dobby heard tell," Dobby said in a low voice, "that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time just weeks ago… that Harry Potter escaped yet again."
Harry nodded, and I scowled.
"Yeah, he was on the back of our defense Professor's head..." I replied, now my turn to be bitter, thinking of Professor Quirrell. "...Harry made the both of them flee the school."
When I finished what happened, Dobby looked at Harry with even more awe.
"Ah, sir," he gasped, dabbing the corner of his eyes with his filthy pillow case. "Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later… Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."
Their was a long silence, only the sound of dinner downstairs and Uncle Vernon's loud voice could be heard. I looked back and forth between Harry and Dobby, fear, but also confusion, overtaking my mind.
"W-what?" Harry finally replied, the slight stutter again making me frown. "But I've...no we've got to go back — term starts on September first. It's all that's keeping us going. You don't know what it's like here. We don't belong here. We belong in your world — at Hogwarts."
"No, no, no," Dobby squeaked, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. "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."
"Why?" Harry asked after another brief pause, surprise in his voice.
"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," Dobby whispered as he stared to tremble. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"
"What terrible things?" Harry asked at once. "Who's plotting them?
Dobby made a odd noise, then began to bang his head against the wall,
"All right!" Harry cried, grabbing Dobby's arm to stop him. "You can't tell me. I understand. But why are you warning me?" Harry suddenly froze, as though a chill came over him. "Hang on — this hasn't got anything to do with Vol — sorry — with You-Know-Who, has it?" Harry asked, and Dobby looked awfully close to banging his head again...I froze at the thought... "You could just shake or nod," He added urgently.
"Not — not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sir —"Dobby replied.
"Is it Quirrell, Quirinus Quirrell?" I asked, and Dobby again shook his head.
Both me and Harry were totally lost, Dobby's widened his eyes, he seemed to want to tell Harry more, or give him some sort of clue, but he couldn't...
"He hasn't got a brother, has he?" Harry asked, and Dobby shook his head.
"A sister?" I added, and again Dobby shook his head.
"Well then, I can't think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts," Harry replied. "I mean, there's Dumbledore, for one thing — you know who Dumbledore is, don't you?"
Dobby bowed his head.
"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength. But, sir..." Dobby's voice dropped, and I could barely hear him. "...there are powers Dumbledore doesn't… powers no decent wizard…"
Dobby suddenly stopped. Then, before either of us could do anything, Dobby stood up, grabbed our desk lamp, and began hitting himself with it, each time yelping loudly in pain, and I realized in horror that the noise downstairs had suddenly stopped. Only to be replaced with footsteps...
"Dudley must have left his television on again, the little tyke!" We heard Uncle Vernon call from the hall, and I froze in fear...while Harry grabbed Dobby.
"Quick! In the closet!" He hissed, forcing Dobby inside.
"Hurry. "I said, climbing onto the bed, Harry did the same and not a second later a furious looking Uncle Vernon came barging in...
"What — the —devil — are —two — you — doing?" He asked through gritted teeth, his face inches from ours. "You've just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke… One more sound and you'll both wish you'd never been born!"
With that Uncle Vernon turned around, slammed our door shut, and stormed back down to the kitchen. I looked over and noticed Harry was shaking, while I was frozen in terror...usually I was just annoyed with Uncle Vernon's threats, but this time...it was terrifying.
Slowly Harry stood up and let Dobby out of the closet, while I took a few deep breaths.
"See what it's like here?" Harry said. "See why we've got to go back to Hogwarts? It's the only place we've got — well, I think I've got friends."
"You do." I told him in a whisper, and Harry gave me a half hearted smile before turning back to Dobby.
"Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?" The elf replied slyly, and I raised my eyebrows in confusion...how did Dobby know about that?
"I expect they've just been — wait a minute," Harry began, then paused, realizing the same thing I had. "How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?"
Dobby shuffled his feet. "Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best —"
"Have you been stopping my letters?" Harry asked, anger building.
"Dobby has them here, sir," Dobby replied, stepping backwards and pulling out a thick stack of envelopes from his pillowcase. I saw Hermione, Ron, Hagrid all had written...and was also surprised to see Lisa, and Anthony had sent postcards from Brazil and Norway respectively.
"So you've been stopping our letters?" I asked, and Dobby nodded.
"Harry Potter mustn't be angry… Dobby hoped… if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him… Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir…"
"Then why have you stolen mine? Am I in supposed danger?" I asked, crossing my arms, and Dobby flinched.
"No, no, no...plotters don't wish to harm the other Potter, like Dobby said, young master speak very highly of other Potter, but Dobby thought, if sister stayed home, Harry Potter would be more willing to stay as well." Dobby explained.
"So the plotter's are your masters?" I asked, and Dobby opened his eye in horror, and again reached for the lamp, but this time me and Harry stopped him in time.
"Whatever..." Harry said, clearly done with the conversation, as he reached for the letters. Dobby again stepped backwards and held them close.
"Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back, sir!"
I was about to urge Harry to agree to Dobby's demands...well actually I was going to try and get him to lie and get Dobby out of our hair for tonight. But Harry, in anger, spoke before I could speak.
"No," He said angerly. "Give me my friends' letters!"
"Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice," Dobby replied in a small voice. Then, before either of us could stop him, Dobby sprinted to the door, pulled it open, and dashed downstairs, me and Harry shared a quick horror filled glance, then followed.
As quietly made our way down the stairs, Harry jumped the last six steps and landed quietly on the hallway carpet, while I tiptoed down behind him, a feeling of dread in my stomach, as we both looked around for Dobby.
"… tell Petunia that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr. Mason. She's been dying to hear…"
Uncle Vernon's voice made me shudder, if Dobby did anything...
We made it to the kitchen, and both of us stopped. Our eyes filled with terror as the pudding floated near the ceiling, Dobby crouching on top of the cupboard in the corner...
"No," Harry begged. "Please… they'll kill us…"
"Please." I added, as I fell to my knees.
"Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school —" Dobby demanded.
"Dobby… please…" Harry begged.
"Say it, sir —" Dobby again demanded.
"Just say it." I added, and Harry looked at me, not realizing I was trying to tell him to lie.
"Harry Potter should listen to his sister." Dobby added, nodding to me.
"Just say yes." I said, and Harry shook his head.
"I can't —" Harry admitted, and Dobby looked at us with a tragic expression.
"Then Dobby must do it, sir, for Harry Potter's own good." Dobby replied, and with a snap of his fingers the pudding fell to the floor in a loud thud. Then, a second later, Dobby vanished with a pop.
After a second of shocked silence, there were screams from the dining room as Uncle Vernon burst in to see us both standing there covered in the pudding. The Mason's followed, looking at us in confusion and horror.
"Who are they?" Mr. Mason asked, and Uncle Vernon tried to salvage his evening, while also looking like he wanted the strangle us...
"Just our niece and nephew —very disturbed — meeting strangers upsets them, so we kept them upstairs…now why don't you two go sit back down in the dining room..." Uncle Vernon motioned the Mason's back into the Dining Room, then turned to us with a deadly expression.
"When they leave, you'll be lucky if all I so is flay you." He said, then grabbed the mop and paper towels, and shoved them into our hands. "This better be spotless if you value your life." He said, then furiously stormed into the dining room. Leaving both of us, already shaking in terror, to clean up the mess.
We started cleaning to the best of our ability, while Aunt Petunia dug some Ice Cream out of the freezer. It seemed that Uncle Vernon was somehow going to pull it out, and even if I hated the man...I hoped he did, maybe that would soften his anger...
The sound of something flying into the living room, dropping a pair of letters on Mrs. Mason's head, and her terrified screaming ruined that thought.
"YOU'RE ALL LUNATICS!" She screamed, rushing past us without a look, and out of the house.
"Mr. Mason..." Uncle Vernon tried desperately, as the man stood up.
"My wife is terrified of birds, any type. Is this your idea of a joke?" And with than Mr. Mason followed his wife, a stern look on his face.
There was silence as Uncle Vernon opened the letters, then he grinned evilly. I backed into the corner...as he approached.
"Read it!" He told Harry, holding out the letter as Harry started took it out of the envelope, then found me in the corner. "You to." He ordered. Shaking I approached and took the letter, and I quickly realized this wasn't a birthday card. "Go on — read it!" He ordered, and me and Harry silently read, and it was clear that this wasn't a birthday card.
Dear Miss Potter,
We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine.
As you know, underage witches are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school. (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).
We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy.
Enjoy your holidays!
Yours sincerely,
Mafalda Hopkirk
IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE
Ministry of Magic
Both me and Harry finished our letters about the same time. I heard Harry gulp, and I couldn't stop myself from shaking, we both shared a horrified look, then turned back to Uncle Vernon, who had a mad look in his eyes.
"You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school. Forgot to mention it… Slipped your minds, I daresay…" Uncle Vernon said, a wicked grin now plastered on his face.
Me and Harry didn't speak, what could we say...
"Well, I've got news for the two of you… I'm locking you both up… You're never going back to that school… never… and if you try and magic yourself out — they'll expel you!"
Uncle Vernon then grabbed us by our arms, and forced us back into our bedroom, laughing crazily the entire time.
Neither of us said anything when the door shut, and we heard it lock...
This had been the worst birthday ever.
Uncle Vernon had gone through on his word to lock us up. He payed someone to put bars on our windows, and put a small cat flap on the door so they could push food through three time a day. The only let us out twice a day, to use the restroom. Other than that, we'd been stuck in our room twenty four seven, with only Uric and Hedwig for company.
This went on for three days. We were barley getting enough to eat, and given the fact we had to share our food with our owl's...
Speaking of food, Aunt Petunia had finally brought our dinner. She pushed through two small bowls of canned soup through, both me and Harry took it. The soup was freezing, but I ate it anyway, only leaving enough give Uric a meal.
"It's no good turning your beak up at it — that's all we've got," Harry told Hedwig, who looked at the soup in disgust.
"At least Uric seems to like it." I said, giving a weak smile and petting my owl through the bars as he ate the soup I had given him.
When we were done we put the bowls back on the floor next to the cat flap. Harry fell into bed, and I sat in the desk chair, staring out the window.
"Someone will have to realize we aren't there." I said softly, trying to assure Harry. "Dumbledore will send Hagrid, we'll be back at Hogwarts no matter what the Dursley's do."
"If they haven't starved us by then." Harry replied, and I cringed.
"Surely they wouldn't let that happen...I mean they hate us...but they're not going to kill us." I replied, though even I sounded unsure of that.
"Whatever." Harry replied, giving a defeated sigh, and I couldn't blame him...how much longer could we last.
Eventually Harry fell asleep, but I couldn't...what if Harry was right? What if we died in here? Would anyone even find our bodies? Would the Dursley's even feel bad about it...
The shaking of bar's shook me out of my depressing thoughts, and I walked over to the window confused.
"Stop it," Harry muttered as he slowly woke up. "Leave me alone… cut it out… I'm trying to sleep…"
As Harry woke up, I looked out the window, and jumped back in surprise. Then relief...
Ron Weasley was looking at me, from inside a flying, old, turquoise car