Beyond the horizon, the sun illuminated the shimmering haze of pollution. In the far distance, the silhouette of the skyline pierced through the warm glow like a jagged mountain ridge. The millions of lights caused the dense mass of landscape to glitter like stars. The people were needle points and cars were blood cells flowing through the veins of the city. Despite the time, the hustle and bustle never came to a halt. It was England.
The residential area of Surrey was lined with houses that looked the exact same from all the other houses in the neighborhood. The houses stood in a continuous row on either side of a central street of astonishing cleanness. In each driveway, there was a different style of cheap car. The white gates were bounded to the side of the houses, separating them all from each other. The front bay windows were square and turreted, a long vista of ramparted respectability.
The young boy was sitting at his desk in his own bedroom. He flipped through the picture book his dear friend had given him last year. He turned the page, staring at the picture of his parents holding him when he was a baby. He flipped through another page, looking down at a picture of him and his three other friends. They were smiling in the moving picture, laughing about something.
The snowy owl squeaked to itself, biting the bars of her cage. She turned her head and nibbled at the lock on her cage, squawking in annoyance. The boy looked over at his owl, shaking his head in denial.
"I can't let you out, Hedwig. I'm not allowed to use magic outside of school. Besides, if Uncle Vernon..." Harry's voice trailed off. His uncle yelled his name from downstairs. He closed his eyes, groaning in annoyance. "Now you've done it," he grumbled.
Downstairs, Aunt Petunia was preparing a nice cake for their guest. She reached up and placed another bright red cherry on the side of the cake, humming to herself quietly. She was dressed for the occasion, wearing a light pink dress suit. A matching shawl was draped over her shoulders, hiding her bony collarbone.
Slowly, Harry opened the door of the kitchen and stepped inside the room. His aunt lifted her head and looked at him with glaring eyes. She gestured with her chin towards the living room, mentally telling her nephew that her husband wished to speak with him.
"He's in there. Vernon?" Aunt Petunia said.
Hesitantly, Harry turned around and walked into the living room. His uncle was straightening to bow tie on Dudley's neck, fixing it perfectly. He looked over his shoulder, glaring at the boy with warning eyes.
"I'm warning you. If you can't control that bloody bird, it'll have to go." Uncle Vernon hissed. He turned back around, moving his fingers to straighten the bow tie. He hummed to himself, narrowing his eyes at the article of clothing.
"But she's bored. If I could only let her out for an hour or two," Harry defended.
"So you can send secret messages to your freaky little friends? No, sir." Uncle Vernon said with a scoffing laugh. He made a face, shaking his head at the absurd thought. The young boy looked down at his feet.
"But I haven't had any messages from any of my friends. Not one...all summer," Harry said in a sad tone. Slowly, his uncle and cousin turned around in their place. The fat boy made a face of disgust, walking up towards his scrawny cousin.
"Who would want to be friends with you?" Dudley barked. He brushed past his cousin, slamming his shoulder into his. His uncle stepped forward, rubbing his head in annoyance. He gritted his teeth together in anger.
"I should think you'd be a little more grateful. We've raised you since you were a baby, given you the food off our table. Even let you have Dudley's second bedroom purely out of the goodness of our hearts," Uncle Vernon said while touching his chest dramatically.
Slowly, Dudley reached forward and touched one of the cherries on the cake. His mother smacked his hand away, shaking her head in denial. He glared at her with gritted teeth. She laughed nervously, composing herself.
"Not now. It's for when the Masons arrive," Aunt Petunia defended.
"Which should be any minute," Uncle Vernon said. He threw his hands into the air, gesturing for his family to enter the living room. The other two family member passed by Harry. "Now, let's go over our schedule once again, shall we? Petunia, when the Masons arrive, you will be...?"
Instinctively, Aunt Petunia waltzed over towards the fireplace. She reached up and placed her delicate hand on the mantlepiece. She gestured towards the couches in the living room with her other hand. A prominent smile stretched across her dainty face.
"In the lounge, waiting to welcome them graciously to our home." She said with a proud smile on her face. She lifted her hand and touched the string of pearls draped across her bony neckline, clearing her throat.
"Good. And Dudley, you will be...?"
"I'll be waiting to open the door," Dudley said in a proper mocking tone of voice. He smirked to himself, straightening out his suit coat. His thin hair was slicked back, pushing to the side perfectly. His suit coat was brand new, unlike the old one where he was nearly bursting out of the buttons. His red bow tie was uncomfortably tight around his fat neck.
"Excellent!"
The family of three gathered together. They turned around and glared at the boy who did not belong in their family. They narrowed their eyes at him, scoffing to themselves about his mere existence.
"And you?" Vernon asked.
"I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending that I don't exist." Harry said as if he had it rehearsed. His uncle narrowed his eyes and nodded his head in confirmation. The poor boy swallowed thickly.
"Too right. You will," Uncle Vernon hissed. "With any luck, this could be the day I make the biggest deal of my career and you will not mess it up," he added with a warning glare. His eyes were burning with rage.
Hesitantly, Harry turned around and walked back up the stairs. He could hear the doorbell ringing in the distance. His family members opened the door, their voices were mumbled due to the distance. They welcomed the guests into the house.
In result, Harry reached for his doorknob and opened his bedroom door. He stepped inside the room. He froze in his place upon seeing an unfamiliar creature jumping on his bed. The creature whooped to himself with each jump.
The little thing turned around and stopped jumping. His large green eyes raked over the boy's body. His big ears wiggled slightly. His long nose was the same color as his skin, a light pink. He was wearing a rather dirty old pillowcase, tied around his two shoulders to keep it up. He was barefoot. A little scrawny for his nature.
"Harry Potter," the creature breathed. "Such an honor it is," the thing said with a small bow.
Quickly, Harry closed the door behind him. He opened his mouth to speak only to find no words coming to mind. He shook his head in confusion, looking at the creature with curious eyes. The little creature smiled up at him with beaming eyes.
"Who are you?"
"Dobby, sir. Dobby the house-elf," the creature explained with a small smile on his face.
"Not to be rude or anything, but this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom." Harry admitted. His eyes were gleaming in the light, panting slightly from the walk up the stairs. He was a bit annoyed, frustrated.
"Yes, sir. Dobby understands. It's just that Dobby has come to tell you..." Dobby's voice trailed off. He fumbled with his tiny fingers. "It is difficult, sir. Dobby wonders where to begin," he said with pondering eyes.
"Why don't you sit down?" Harry asked, gesturing towards the small chair by his desk. The elf's ears lowered and his eyes widened in realization. He looked down at his hands, mumbling to himself in worry.
"Sit down? Sit down?"
In a second, Dobby jumped down from the bed. He closed his eyes and sobbed to himself. The hot tears streamed down his face. He wailed loudly, touching his wrinkled head in confusion. He inhaled a couple of times to regain his breath before sobbing to himself all over again.
"Dobby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you or anything," Harry insisted. The house-elf lifted his head and turned around, shaking in his place. He reached up and wiped away his tears, smiling to himself softly.
"Offend Dobby? Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir...but never has he been asked to sit down by a wizard, like an equal." Dobby said, pulling the pillowcase up around his shoulder again. The wizard smiled to himself.
"You can't have met many decent wizards then," Harry chuckled.
"No, I haven't." Dobby said in a soft chuckle. His eyes widened in realization. He looked down at his feet and walked towards the dresser. "That was an awful thing to say," he admitted. He gripped onto the sides of the dresser, banging his head against it with such force.
The young boy dropped to his knees, reaching out with his hands. He pleaded quietly to himself, hoping the house-elf would stop banging his head against the wooden dresser. He shook his head, shushing the house-elf.
"Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" He chanted to himself in frustration.
After a few seconds, Dobby walked away from the dresser. He reached up and touched his head, wincing in pain. "Are you alright?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked at the house-elf.
"Dobby had to punish himself, sir. Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir." He said, jumping onto the chair by the desk. The young boy furrowed his eyebrows, sitting down on his bed.
"Your family?" Harry asked.
"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir. Dobby is bound to serve one family forever. If they ever knew Dobby was here..." his voice trailed off. "But Dobby had to come. Dobby has to protect Harry Potter. To warn him."
The young boy narrowed his eyes and knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. The house-elf nodded his head in confirmation, looking around to room to make sure nobody was listening to their conversation.
"Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. There is a plot, a plot to make most terrible things happen." Dobby admitted with a trembling state of mind.
"What terrible things? Who's plotting them?" Harry asked.
The little creature grumbled to himself, mentally cursing him for even speaking. He clenched his fists together. He grunted his words, his head twitching with each grunt. The young boy breathed a small sigh of annoyance, nodding his head understandingly.
"Okay, I understand. You can't say," Harry said.
The house-elf scrambled onto the top of his desk. He grabbed the lamp and flipped it over, hitting his face with the base of the lamp out of frustration. He grumbled to himself, grunting with each strike to the face.
The boy jumped to his feet, grabbing the lamp from the house-elf. They grunted to themselves, struggling to take control of the lamp. "Dobby! Dobby, put the lamp down. Give me the lamp," Harry said. He yanked the lamp out of the creature's hands, setting it back down on the desk.
He could hear the footsteps racing up the staircase. He reached up and grabbed the pillowcase around the little creature. He lifted him in the air and carried him towards his closet. He opened the door and tossed the house-elf inside, slamming the door behind him
"Get in there and keep quiet," Harry ordered.
Suddenly, the bedroom door swung open widely. The boy's eyes widened in fear, seeing his uncle standing in the doorway. His uncle reached up and pointed an accusing finger at the boy, glaring down at him.
"What the devil are you doing up here?" Uncle Vernon asked.
"I was just..." Harry's voice trailed off. He reached up and pushed the door of the closet, closing it quickly. His uncle thew his hands into the air and grumbled to himself in complete annoyance.
"You just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke," Uncle Vernon hissed. The boy mumbled a quiet apology, closing the closet door once again. "One more sound and you'll wish you'd never been born, boy. And fix that door."
His uncle gestured towards the opening door. The boy reached up and pushed the door closed again, nodding his head in confirmation. He swallowed thickly, hoping his uncle didn't pester him with anymore questions.
"Yes, sir."
Once Uncle Vernon left the room, Harry reached up and opened the closet door. Little Dobby stumbled out of the closet, grumbling to himself in annoyance. He reached up and picked up a sock hanging on his ear. He smelled it before tossing it to the side.
"See why I've got to go back? I don't belong here. I belong in your world, at Hogwarts. It's the only place I've got friends," Harry said. His mind raced with small images of his friends: Ron, Hermione, and Rose.
The house-elf smiled to himself, spinning around on his heels. He looked up at the boy, tilting his head to the side in question. He raised his hand and pointed a finger into the air as if he was trying to prove a point.
"Friends who don't write to Harry Potter?" Dobby asked.
"Well, I expect they've been..." Harry's voice trailed off. He narrowed his eyes in confusion, staring down at the house-elf in disbelief. "Hang on. How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?"
The smile on the house-elf quickly left his face. His ears moved backwards in an innocent position. He cowered away, pressing his back to the dresser. He reached underneath his pillowcase and pulled out a stack of letters.
"Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby," he said. He showed the boy the stack of letters, fumbling with them in his hands. "Dobby hoped if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him...Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir."
The little creature tipped the stack of letter downwards. The boy's eyes widened in realization when he caught sight of the familiar handwriting on the top letter. It was Rose's messy handwriting. She must have written to him sometime during the summer. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists together.
"Give me those. Now," he said sternly.
"No!" Dobby yelled. He shoved the letters back into his pillowcase, bucking his head when Harry tried to grab him. He rushed past the boy, opening the door of the bedroom. He raced down the stairs with the young boy trailing behind him. The house-elf stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, looking at the tasty cake on the kitchen countertop.
The little elf smirked to himself wickedly, looking over his shoulder. "Dobby. Get back here," Harry whispered. He gestured for the house-elf to come back. The little creature shook his head in denial. He looked back at the cake and snapped his fingers together, levitating the cake in the air.
Carefully, Harry kept his gaze on the floating cake. He panted heavily, swallowing thickly. He looked down at the house-elf, shaking his head. He pleaded for the house-elf not to do anything horrible. The house-elf did not listen.
"Dobby. Please. No," Harry begged.
"Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school," Dobby said in a whisper tone.
"I can't. Hogwarts is my home," Harry insisted. The house-elf turned his head and looked at the whole cake. He shrugged his shoulders in defeat, smirking to himself in a silly behavior.
"Then Dobby must do it, sir. For Harry Potter's own good," he said. He snapped his fingers together, watching the cake flying in the air. It slowly hovered in the air, flying towards the guests in the living room.
Instantly, Harry rushed into the kitchen. He pressed his hand onto Dobby's face, shoving him out of the doorway. He stopped in his steps, watching the cake hovering in the air. He stretched his arms out and walked towards the cake.
The house-elf smirked to himself. The cake was hovering over one of the guest's heads, lingering in the air. The elf snapped his fingers, watching the cake drop from the air. It landed on the lady's head, coating her in the purple and green frosting. The Dursley family froze in their place.
"I'm so sorry. It's my nephew. He's very disturbed. Meeting strangers upsets him. That's why I kept him upstairs," Uncle Vernon admitted. The boy turned around and glared at the house-elf, shaking his head in disapproval. The house-elf cowered backwards, snapping his fingers before disappearing into thin air.
~~~
The very next morning, Uncle Vernon placed his tall ladder onto the side of the house. He climbed up the ladder and placed a rack of bars over the window. He bolted the boy's window with the bars, screwing them into place. He grabbed one of the bars, tugging on it to make sure it was secure. He smirked to himself wickedly.
"You're never going back to that school. You're never going to see those freaky friends of yours again. Never!" Uncle Vernon yelled, staring at the boy in the window. The poor boy blinked a few times, clenching his fists together in anger.
The night sky was dark, pitch black. There were silver stars scattered across the sky with the bright yellow moon hanging high in the sky. A few owls hooted through the night sky, announcing the midnight.
The bright yellow sun had fallen asleep a good few hours ago, sinking beneath the horizon. The veil of darkness covered the vast sky, darkening the entire earth under its harsh wrath. The night creatures yawned, waking themselves up as the silver moon glistening in the sky.
There was a soft humming in the distance. The roar of the engine grew nearer and nearer. The young boy lifted his head from his pillow, grabbing his glasses off his night stand. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood to his feet, looking out the window of his bedroom.
He narrowed his eyes in confusion, seeing two bright yellow lights in the sky. They seemed to be flying, coming closer to his window. The flying car hovered in the air, pointing itself straight at Harry's bedroom window. The car rounded to the side, showing the passengers in the front seat.
In an instant, Harry could recognize the familiar red haired family sitting in the car. One of the Weasley twins turned the steering wheel, getting a little closer to the window. In a second, Ron popped his head out of the car window. He smiled to himself.
"Hiya, Harry."
"Ron. Fred. George. What are you all doing here?" Harry asked, looking at the three boys with furrowed eyebrows.
"Rescuing you, of course. Now, come on. Get your trunk," Ron said.
Instantly, Harry rushed around his room and grabbed all of his belongings. He shoved them into his trunk, closing the lid. The Weasley boys reached out and placed a hook on the bars of his window.
"You better stand back," Ron said. In response, Harry took a few steps back. They drove the flying car in a straight line, allowing the piece of rope to pull of the heavy bars. The bars on the windows were yanked from the wall, chasing to the ground with a loud thud. It was enough to wake the family.
They backed the flying car towards the window, popping open the trunk of the car. The boy threw his own trunk into the back of the car, hearing his raging uncle calling his name. The family rushed towards his bedroom door, unlocking all the locks on his door. The car spun around in its place.
Quickly, Harry grabbed his cage and passed it to the boys through the open window. The boys called his name, telling him to hurry up. Suddenly, the bedroom door swung open widely. In a split second, Harry jumped into the car. However, Uncle Vernon reached forward and grabbed his foot in attempts to pull him back.
"Come here!" Uncle Vernon yelled.
"Let go of me!" Harry shouted.
"No, boy! You and that bloody pigeon aren't going anywhere," Uncle Vernon hissed. He pulled on the boy's foot harder, hoping to pull him back. The Weasley boy's eyes widened in horror and terror.
"Get off!" Harry yelled.
"Drive!" Ron exclaimed. They shifted the stick into the correct gear, pushing down on the pedal. The car took off into the air. In result, Uncle Vernon lost his grip on Harry's foot. He tumbled out of the window, falling into the brushes below with a heavy thump. His two other family members screamed in terror, rushing towards the window.
Slowly, Uncle Vernon lifted his head and looked off into the distance. His eyes widened in confusion as he watched the car fly off into the distance. He cursed to himself, grumbling in utter frustration. The car sped off into the night's sky.
The Weasley boys smiled to themselves in triumph. They flew over the city, admiring the twinkling lights of the houses below them. The two younger boys looked out the window, gazing in awe at how tiny the world looked from the sky.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked.
"Well, we've got to go pick up Rosie. You thought we were just going to leave her at that awful orphanage down in Brighton? No way! We are on our way to pick her up right now," Ron said. He stuck his chin into the air, nodding his head once.
The boy with a lightning scar seemed to brighten at the news. His eyes widened, a soft smile creeping onto his face. He pressed his lips into his mouth, turning his head to look out the window of the car. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks at the mere mention of her name.
~~~
The young girl stood in the presence of her wicked caretaker. She kept her chin high in the air, not daring to look her superior in the eyes. The old lady narrowed her eyes at the young girl, humming to herself. She grabbed the ruler, clutching in in her hands.
The flat end of the rule was brought down on the girl's open palm. The caretaker pushed the ruler down many times, strapping the little girl for punishment of her actions. With each strike, Rose closed her eyes and winced at the burning sensation.
The caretaker lowered the ruler, placing it at her side. She narrowed her eyes at the young girl, pursing her lips out. The little girl swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing the tears back. Her hand was burning in pain, red and swollen from the strapping.
"Now," the caretaker's voice boomed. "Have you learned your lesson?"
In response, Rose nodded her head in confirmation. She kept her gaze straight ahead, too afraid to look the lady in the eyes. She breathed heavily, hoping to contain her anger and rage. Her eyes drifted upwards, glaring into the lady's raging eyes.
"You will never pull another girl's hair again. Am I understood?" The little girl swallowed thickly. She had every right to pull that little girl's hair. The nasty girl had mocked her about her inability to speak. She reached up and yanked the single ponytail on the girl's hand. The naughty girl wailed to herself for five minutes until the caretaker came into view.
It was not the first time the girl had received a hard strap with a ruler by the caretaker. The old lady seemed to think that Rose was in the knack of getting in trouble periodically. She received a harsh strapping at least twice a week. Most of the time, it wasn't even Rose's fault to begin with. She was almost always framed by one of the other orphan girls.
Her punishments were the same each time. She would receive a few straps on the hand with a wooden ruler. Afterwards, she would be forced to go to bed without any dinner. It was a common thing. She didn't seem to mind after a while. She would be going back to school soon. Things would be better then.
"Go to your room and stay there until morning," the caretaker said.
Slowly, Rose turned around and walked towards the staircase in the dark orphanage. Her light blue uniform dress swayed around her legs with each steps. Her hair had been cut short during the summer, reaching the tips of her shoulders. Her hair was pulled back, brushed without tangles. A few strands of her hair were pulled back, tied with a big blue bow. A form of humiliation for her.
She entered her small bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She flopped onto her bed, burying her face into the soft pillows. She cried to herself, wishing she could just go back to school with her friends.
A low rumble streamed through the air. She lifted her head from her pillow, looking out the window to see the headlights of a car. She sniffed up her tears and wiped her eyes softly. She lifted her head and stared out the window. The car rounded around in a hard left, standing next to her window. The four familiar faces popped into sight. Her lips curved into a devilish smile.