The Summer holidays were always a struggle for Harry. During his time at primary school, he'd never made any friends to enjoy the long break with. At Hogwarts, the period was only a time of separation for him. He was away from his friends, his new hobbies, even the professors he enjoyed speaking to (even no normal student would ever say that out loud). The time last year hadn't been too bad, thanks to Hermione's intervention, taking him to the sanctuary of her home. But she had been slightly distant since they'd left Hogwarts. Not massively. She still wrote a letter a week to check up on him, to make sure the Dursleys were treating him as well as could be expected. But he had hoped that another trip to her home would have been on the cards yet so no such invitation had arrived. For some reason, her spirits hadn't been as high as he would have expected during their final day at school. They had, after all, just stopped Voldemort together and their friend had returned to them. But barely a smile had passed on her face as she'd said her customary goodbyes, with the train journey being the quiestest they'd gone through (although Matthew was always on hand to provide entertaining conversation). Her hug wasn't as tight and her embrace with Matthew had been fleeting to say the least. Harry had tried to bring it up in their letters without appearing to be too nosy; if she had picked up on it, she had deftly avoided the subject. He was worried about her, wondering whether the end to the year had placed her under a strain he hadn't appreciated. When he thought about it, facing the most powerful dark wizard in history, albeit before he became said wizard, was a difficult thing to go through, even if he'd faced that threat three times so far in his life. It was perfectly acceptable for her to be struggling. He just wished that she would talk about it with him.

Harry remembered how happy he had been on his birthday the year prior and how important he had felt. It was a complete contrast now. He'd been thirteen years old for precisely six minutes and seventeen seconds. He didn't feel any different. Nothing had changed. He was still on his own, with his duvet over his head as he worked on a potions essay, using the tip of his wand as a source of light. He could have done it during the day but Uncle Vernon didn't like to hear anything about it so Harry had been unable to use it as an excuse to get out of his chores. He probably should have been asleep by now. Aunt Petunia hated it when he had long lie-ins and, just because it was his birthday, there was no way she was going to let him off. There was no chance of any of them remembering that it was his birthday anyway. So Harry was risking being incredibly tired because…a small part of him felt that he had to be awake. On his eleventh birthday, he had been awake at midnight at the turn of his birthday and that had brought Hagrid crashing into his life. Staying awake was almost a ritual now.

It seemed that it wasn't paying dividends this year though. Harry slowly closed his book, opening himself to the darkness of his room. His blinds were still open so the moonlight was seeping in but that was the only illumination he got. He was faintly aware at one point of the wind seeming to pick up outside for some reason, followed by a strange groaning noise. But it was over shortly after it began so he put it down to his sleep-addled mind. Perhaps, when he woke up in a few hours time, there would be presents waiting for him. That would be nice. It would make for a nice dream at least.

Harry had barely closed his eyes before an impatient tapping came from the window. It was loud and obnoxious, making him fearful of what would happen if the noise woke Uncle Vernon in his nearby room. He shuffled about, getting partially caught in the bed sheets as he attempted to put his glasses on in the rush, eventually stumbling out of bed, landing on the floor with a heavy thump. Harry paused, hearing Vernon snort audibly in his sleep but there was no sign of him waking. Which allowed Harry the opportunity to see what was causing the unexpected ruckus. And he promptly fell back onto the floor when he found a face looking back at him.

He was surely dreaming because this wasn't possible. It didn't make any sense. But, as he moved to open the window, he had to accept that it seemed real. Matthew was balancing precariously on top of the conservatory that protruded into the back garden, one arm being used to tap the window with his walking stick, whilst Hedwig perched on his shoulder. Harry rubbed his eyes in disbelief, blinking every so often as if to wake himself up back in reality. But no, Matthew remained, grinning at him slightly manically. The night air was cold and his cloak billowed in the breeze. Harry looked around at the garden. The gate was closed, there was no obvious disturbance in the flower patches, and there was no ladder by the extension. Meaning Matthew must have clambered onto it himself, which seemed like it must have taken a lot of effort. And it didn't account for why Hedwig was with him or how he'd caught her. Although that was way down on the list of questions Harry needed to get out.

"Matthew?" he hissed. "What are you doing? How did you get here?"

"It's your birthday, isn't it?" he replied as if he was the sane one. "I have got the date right, right? I'm always getting my days mixed up these days. I had wanted to arrive exactly at midnight but, again, my timing has never been my forte."

Harry's mouth kept opening and closing but no sound was coming out. He scratched his head, wondering why his life was always this crazy. "How did you get up there?" The conservatory was all smooth edges with very few vantage points to place one's feet, though Harry had never tried it. There had been the time he'd accidentally put himself on the roof at primary school but that was a bit different.

"Magic," Matthew said sarcastically. "No, I got up here through a great deal of effort, which I don't think is getting appreciated enough right now."

"You know…we have a front door, right?"

Matthew was growing visibly annoyed, probably because of the strain he was currently going through. "Yes, and that would have gone down really with your family if I'd turned up at twelve o'clock at night, banging on the door and ringing the doorbell. I bet the neighbours would have loved that as well. Come on, Harry, I know it's late and it is your birthday so I should cut you some slack…but do try to keep up." He huffed loudly. "Now, are you going to help me get in or are we going to talk like this all night?"

It took a lot of effort to pull Matthew into his room, mainly because Harry hadn't done a lot of physical activity over his years and Matthew was heavier than he first looked. The situation was helped out by Hedwig flying through the window unassisted, though the owl then just sat and watched the chaos unfold. Dragging Matthew through the window was also not the quietest of tasks and Harry thought he heard his relatives stir once or twice, but no one came barging in to see what was going on. Perhaps they thought someone was breaking in to take him away - they probably would have been happy about that.

Matthew shook himself off once he was standing in Harry's room, the first time he'd been there. This was the first time he'd been to the house full stop, though Harry wished it had come at a better time. Despite saying that, he was pleased to see his friend. It had been too long over the Summer weeks and not knowing Matthew's living arrangements also added to his concern. He watched, almost nervously, as Matthew sauntered around. When Hermione had picked him up last year, they had stayed at the front door. They'd been nowhere near his room but now he was exposed. Matthew was seeing how he truly lived, the shame of it all. Hardly any personal belongings of real note. A few quills scattered across his desk with parchment either neatly stacked or thrown into the bin. But Matthew kept looking around. He spotted the photo he'd commissioned of the three of them, taken by little Colin Creevey. Harry spotted the other boy smiling softly at it.

"You don't get many visitors, do you?" he asked, turning to face him. Every movement he had was eccentric and flamboyant, turning on his heel, ensuring his coak twirled dramatically. It was so different to the banality of the Dursleys and it was taking some time for him to get used to it again.

"You're the first," Harry replied, absentmindedly kicking stray objects under his bed to make the room seem tidier. Matthew picked up on it but chose not to say anything.

"Well…I see it as an honour." He moved over to the door and flicked on the light switch, making Harry squint uncomfortably at the sudden change. "That's better."

"You shouldn't do that. My family…they'll notice. They won't want to be woken."

"Oh, please…do you think I'm that much of an amateur that I wouldn't have made it so they can't hear anything we do? You've mentioned a few times how terrible they are so I thought I'd take no chances. Although, if they did decide to come in and ruin our fun, I'd love to show them what I can do."

"But…how could you do that? We can't perform magic!"

Matthew just winked at him, before beginning to root through his long coat. "Do you really want to be wondering about that or see why I'm really here? I'd love to talk for hours about how brilliant I am but I reckon you'd rather be given what I have tucked up my sleeve. Well…not sleeve, my many pockets but that doesn't sound as exciting."

Harry perched on the side of his bed, suddenly excited. It was his birthday after all, which surely meant…presents. Harry had never been too fussed about receiving gifts, which was good because he'd hardly got any growing up. But there was a part of him, after experiencing what it felt like when it came from people who cared about him, who looked forward to it. It was a reassurance that people did think about him and planned special items for him.

Matthew produced a slender envelope and held it out. "Hermione sends her love. She's on holiday with her parents in France and she's very annoyed she hasn't been able to see you. Hedwig was supposed to deliver this but I was doing other rounds so thought I'd take the load off her majestic back." He paused to scratch the owl gently, cooing softly at the content bird.

"Have you seen Hermione then?" Harry couldn't help but feel jealous at the prospect, imagining his two friends meeting up without him because they didn't have to worry about being trapped with their relatives.

"Sadly not. I have called her though. You know how much I love a telephone. She sounds fine, doing her homework as you'd expect. I'm sure she's written about all that in her letter."

Harry carefully tore through the envelope and found that Matthew was right. The message was similar to the ones he'd already been sent by her, though this one started with a large 'happy birthday' declaration in careful and grand cursive. He smiled throughout, able to hear her voice through the words. Harry noticed that the envelope was still weighted down with something and found his present waiting there. It was a small painting, which Hermione explained was of the magical village they had visited whilst on the continent. Harry was fascinated by the presence of another community akin to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade and Hermione put exactly that for her reasoning behind getting it. He imagined going there himself one day. He wanted to visit every single magical colony across the globe.

"She also wanted you to have this. Turns out that there's a lovely bakery near her home and she placed the order well before she left." Matthew was rummaging again and, somehow, his hands returned with a cake on show, large and rectangular. "Huh. She's had magical items piped on. Cauldrons, brooms, a few wands…I wonder what the baker must have thought."

"How…how did that fit in your coat?"

"Bigger on the inside," came the reply, as if that made sense. "I sometimes forget how much you still have to learn about the magical world. Although…it doesn't stop my pockets now having chocolate icing all over them. That's going to be a nightmare to wash out." He licked his fingers to emphasise his point, waving the offending icing for Harry to see. "Can you wait to cut into your cake? It's just, I'd rather empty my coat so I can relax."

"You have more things for me?"

Matthew frowned, looking at him like he'd grown a second head (or three, like Fluffy). "Of course I do! I stopped off to see Hagrid. I'm quite worried about what he's got you. It's been rummaging in my coat for a few hours now and I'm not looking forward to the mess I'm going to find."

As soon as Matthew produced the next present, Harry eyed it with caution. He slowly approached the wrapped object, watching how it fidgeted on the floor. When he tore through the first shred of paper, he found some sort of mouth wanting to bite at him and he fell onto his rump, not for the first time that night. He was grateful that Matthew had sound-proofed the room, no matter how he'd managed to do so. His friend had jumped up at the reveal, lending him a hand. The present wriggled in his hands as he picked it up.

"This is fun. Your Care of Magical Creatures textbook for this year. It's a bit livelier than the last." He held up one finger and then proceeded to use it to stroke the covered spine. The movement thankfully stopped. "Don't forget that tip. Or you'll discover that studying is even more difficult and tiresome than it should be. I am confused as to why Hagrid would make a point of getting you this but I'm sure we'll find out when we next see him."

Harry looked down at the now sleeping book and stroked the spine in the same way his friend had done. "I'm always at a loss as to how you know these things when we're the same age."

"My birthday's in November so you could say I'm younger than you right now. Not that that should make you feel any worse." He grinned at him cockily. "We've had different upbringings. I'm sure that means you know things that I don't."

"I doubt that," Harry grumbled, his arms crossed. "I don't even know what your upbringing was like. Maybe that could be your present to me. Telling me about your life before Hogwarts."

Matthew suddenly looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I'd much rather give you the present that I actually got you."

Harry was well aware that Matthew was distracting him from his invasive line of questioning, but he wasn't that fussed when he saw the haphazardly wrapped gift emerge from his cloak. It was a small package and Harry caught it as it sailed through the air from Matthew's unexpected throw. Cutting through the paper, he was confused to see a pair of socks, not matching, that appeared to be handmade. A Gryffindor lion roared on one, its golden face standing out against the crimson fabric. The other had three people waving at him, who had to be their trio. Harry didn't know what to make of them.

"Did you…make these yourself?"

"Do you not like them?"

"No, it's not that. They're just…unexpected. A bit different."

Matthew couldn't keep a straight face and began to chuckle. "Sorry, I tried to be convincing but imagine if I'd actually made you socks. They're from Dobby. He was very excited for you to have them. He's actually besotted by you and reckons he can make up for the torment he put you through last year by giving you underwear. Isn't that fantastic?"

"I'm confused. How would you have seen Dobby? How would you have seen all these people?"

"I had a lot of time on my hands. As for Dobby, he's currently at Hogwarts. I think the idea is to get him working in the kitchens with the other elves, though he's choosing to do so so gets to maintain his freedom. Anyway, I was at Hogwarts mainly for another reason. Your actual present from me." He brandished a small piece of paper in Harry's face, who took it curiously. It was blank, save from a scribble in the middle. Was this another joke?

"Is this a…signature?"

"It is. But not any old signature. Professor Dumbledore's, to be precise."

Harry's eyebrows raised, though he was still very much confused. "And he signed this because…"

"Because I thought you'd want proof that I'm telling the truth. That he's allowing you to leave the Dursleys for the remainder of the Summer and go under my scrutinising care instead."

Harry's eyes went wide straight away, a smile instantly on his face. "Really?"

"We'll be going tomorrow. There's some rooms above the Leaky Cauldron that I've already paid for and then we can get your shopping done for school." Matthew suddenly looked nervous. "Unless you want to stay here, of course. I wouldn't be insulted."

"Are you serious? This is amazing!"

Matthew wore a wide smile. "Great! Because I don't think I'd be able to get my deposit back on the rooms if you'd chosen the other option. So, tomorrow morning, I'll arrive at the front door like a normal person and whisk you away. We can't have your relatives knowing that you've stowed a person in your room overnight. That'd be a massive scandal. But…for now…I've been staring at that cake for ages and I really need you to start cutting it."

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They both ate three slices each of the chocolatey goodness, the sort of appetite that young boys could get away with. Harry vowed to thank Hermione profusely for that gift and wondered how he'd go about getting a cake to Hogwarts for her own birthday. Matthew had left the same way as he'd entered, moving with a flexibility that he very rarely showed. Harry still didn't know he'd got there or where he was going until the morning. All he'd said was that it wouldn't feel like a long time for him, whatever that meant. Harry was fairly certain that he had dreamt the entire interaction in his head, but the sight of the presents lying on his bed when he woke up reminded him that it had actually happened.

He was barely downstairs for long before the doorbell was ringing. Vernon, who was sitting at the table with his morning newspaper, barked at him to answer it. Even then, Petunia beat him to the door, as if she had remembered that they didn't like unleashing Harry onto the unsuspecting public. He was immediately nervous when she opened it, revealing a waiting Matthew on the welcome mat. He didn't look anything like he normally did. His cloak was missing, as was his walking stick. His pants had been swapped for jeans and a jumper was shoved over a hidden t-shirt. And his smile was wider than usual, though Harry could tell that it was entirely fake, designed to lure his aunt into a false sense of security.

"Hello?" Petunia asked, unsure as to what was happening. She didn't want youths at her door because that would likely encourage more to come by, and then it would be an infestation. "Can I help you?"

"Hello," Matthew greeted, more stilted and polite than his typical tone. "I think we've spoken before on the telephone. I'm one of Harry's friends, Matthew Mormont. He might have mentioned me, he might not have…but that's not important."

Petunia's face had gone ashen at his words. "You're…one of…Harry's friends?"

He waved at the boy standing behind her. "Indeed."

"Vernon!" she shouted and, soon, the burly patriarch was bounding over, ready to get rid of whatever this nuisance was.

"What is it?" Harry's uncle asked, peering down at the sight before him.

"He knows Harry." She whispered it to him, not wanting to risk the neighbours hearing.

Vernon scrunched his nose up. "He doesn't look like one of those weirdos."

"I do pride myself on my fashion sense," Matthew intervened. Harry was hoping he could rein in his usual demeanour otherwise there would be no chance of them letting him leave with him. "And I have a particular love for your world."

"You better come inside," Petunia said, sounding like she wanted the complete opposite. But the last thing she needed was for the other people on the street to begin to get nosey.

Matthew made sure to wipe his feet thoroughly before entering, and made a point of looking around the hallway. "Lovely house you've got here."

"Why are you here?" Vernon asked, cutting to the chase as soon as the door was closed. "What do you want?"

"I would like to take Harry off your hands. You won't have to see him until next Summer, which I've been told is very desirable for you."

Harry winced. It was the sort of wisecracking comment that Matthew loved and the sort that would only serve to annoy his relatives.

"We don't know who you are!" Petunia argued.

"Like I said, you talked to me last year! Don't you recognise my voice? Anyway, from all accounts, you'd hand over Harry to any willing participant so I don't know what the fuss is about."

"What are you trying to say about the way we care for our nephew? Did that mad old man put you up to this? Is he checking up on us? Because you can tell him that we've listened to his every instruction, no matter the financial cost it puts on us." Vernon was practically seething.

Matthew bit his tongue. Now wasn't the time to be bringing up his concerns about their treatment of his friend. "Nothing of the sort. In fact, that mad old man signed off on this idea." He produced the same piece of paper that he'd given Harry the night before, who was wondering how he'd taken it back without him noticing. "Here you are. This is the security you need to know that there's absolutely no chance of you getting into trouble for this. If anything happens to Harry, which shouldn't be the case, I'll be the one responsible. I reckon that's a pretty good deal for you."

"I suppose that sounds reasonable," Petunia begrudgingly admitted. Harry beamed hopefully behind her.

"And we wouldn't have to do anything for him again until next year?" Vernon asked to make sure. You could never be too careful.

"Not one iota," Matthew confirmed.

Vernon turned his beefy neck to Harry. "Go and pack your bags then, boy."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "They're already done, sir. But if I could ask you something else…"

His uncle eyed him suspiciously, not least because his bags were already packed. "Go on."

"I received this letter from my school last night, along with the general things they normally send. It's just a permission slip to allow me to go to the village nearby on some weekends. I need the signature from a guardian so I was wondering if you would do that for me. Then I'll be out of your hair."

"And this will make you leave quicker so I can go and pick up your Aunt Marge?"

Harry shuddered at the prospect of seeing that woman again and made sure to remind himself to thank Matthew even more for taking him away in time. "It'll be the last you see of me." He waited for Vernon to nod his head and then he was rushing as fast as he could go to find a pen. As soon as that was signed, he was pulling his trunk down the stairs, with Matthew helpfully carrying Hedwig's cage (with owl inside). They had hardly been given the time to step outside when the door was one being closed on them. Matthew chuckled, mainly at Harry's relieved sigh as he breathed in the fresh air of freedom.

Harry gazed at the quiet road, where there was a notable absence of any vehicle waiting for them. He wasn't going to walk to Diagon Alley and he was sure that Vernon would have just laughed at them if they asked for a lift.

"So…how exactly have you been getting about?" he wondered. "The Leaky Cauldron is a fair distance from here."

"I'm changing it up from my usual method," Matthew explained. "I like to keep things fresh. How do you feel about…travelling by bus?"

Harry should have been scared at the mischievous look in his friend's eye.