Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Surprisingly the Dursley’s were home. Harry didn’t know why since Dudley always had parties to go to at the end of the school year, this year shouldn’t have been any different. Hagrid waved to Harry before he flew off in his flying motorbike, leaving Harry alone, once again. For the first time, Harry had thought of how the Dursley’s would react to Harry walking through the door as if nothing had happened before he’d left.

He couldn’t imagine Uncle Vernon treating him with more respect, Aunt Petunia taking care of him as he was her own son, and the mental image of Dudley taking him under his wing seemed totally unrealistic. Yet the young wizard reached out to the door feeling confident that the Dursleys had changed.

The door opened dramatically slow and from the second it opened, the telly from Dudley’s room could be heard. Harry walked pass the stairs not noticing his uncle in the front room, staring lasers in the back of Harry’s head.

“So you’ve come back, eh?” The fat man folded the newspaper onto his lap and had raised an eyebrow.

“Um, yes, sir.” Harry tripped over his words, astonished he wasn’t yelled at yet in the couple minutes he had gotten to Privet Drive. He nervously folded his hands in front of him, he was about to speak but Uncle Vernon had beat him to it.

“You won’t be staying in the space under the stairs anymore. Your aunt and I generously convinced Dudley to donate most of his toys and things after you had left. The room is yours.”

Ah yes, Harry’s ‘bedroom’ under the staircase, you would think that he would have space for himself for the name of this cupboard had ‘room’ in it. Though, he smiled- the boy who lived never had an actual room for himself. He had cracked a smile but Vernon’s face was stone cold.

“Now go on and wash up, Petunia needs help with supper.” Uncle Vernon unfolded the paper he was reading and spoke behind his wall of separation. “We are having Dudley’s favorite tonight.”

Chapter Text

Mrs. Dursley’s infamous Stargazy pie. Single handily the grossest dish on the planet was Dudley’s favorite dish. The pie consisted of eggs, potatoes, Herrings and Sardines covered with a thin pastry crust and that wasn’t even the worst part. Harry hated the fact that the fish were still whole and their heads protruded from the crust, staring you down as you ate it all up (or in Harry's case till he gave his small portion to Dudley, the pig). This dish originated from Cornwall, England in Harry’s opinion it should’ve stayed there. The stench of fish masked the whole entire first floor of the house and it lingered longer than it should've.

He was making faces back at the poor sardine in front of him Dudley, on the other hand, was already starting his second helping of supper quite enjoying himself actually.

“What are you looking at?” Dudley spoke with his mouth full of the unpleasant pie.

“Apparently National Geographic’s special on pigs.” Harry smirked devilishly at his cousin, aunt Petunia sat there gaping at the snide comment and uncle Vernon threw his silverware onto the table.

“What is it with you boy? We are trying to have a civil supper here like any other night and you spoil it by insulting Dudley!” Nobody was eating anymore; they were all staring at Harry.

“Oh, I wasn’t just talking about Dudley.” Uncle Vernon let out a shout of absolute rage. The neighborhood knew in that moment, Harry Potter was home. The fat man hastily got up from his chair and dashed over to Harry. Harry widened his eyes in disbelief- he didn’t know Vernon could move that quickly. He was pulled up from his seat by Vernon’s meaty fist, centimeters from fiery red face.

“Let me go!” Harry squirmed trying to escape the pudgy man’s clutches. “Put me down!”

“You are a spoiled little brat and you have no right to insult this family! After all we feed you, we clothe you and we put up with your silly little magic tricks!” There was no escaping the thick spit the man had spat. “Now go to your room!”

Uncle Vernon had dropped Harry to the floor and stepped over him cold-heartedly. When the raven haired boy got up, he made no eye contact with the Dursleys. Harry cleared his place from the table, apologized to Dudley and solemnly walked up the stairs.

Once Harry had reached the top of the stairs with his suitcases, with a flick of his wand those frightening little fish started to sing Yellow Submarine by the Beatles. Content with the frightened screams and howls, Harry walked into his new room with a renewed smile.

 ~~~

The next morning was not another day at Hogwarts. Dudley woke Harry up earlier because he was expecting company and did not want to be bothered by ‘head wing’ or any other of Harry’s tricks. Breakfast wasn’t fun either; aunt Petunia said because of Harry she will not be preparing any meat dishes till she can cope with last night's sardine catastrophe. Instead of the usual ‘all you can eat fest’ she prepared pancakes, parfaits, and fruits. Dudley struggled through the morning meal since he couldn’t stand the taste of food in the morning.

“So Harry, I've made a list of chores for you to do.” Mr. Dursley said through the newspaper. “You know, to keep you busy and away from Dudley’s company.”

Harry took a small bowl of fruit to the table, he remembered the last time his cousin had invited his friends over.

It was before Hogwarts and before Harry had known he was a wizard, Dudley and his mindless friends had played pranks on him all day but nothing too serious. But then, when one of Dudley’s friends asked why Harry had to live with his aunt and uncle, Dudley replied; 'Harry’s parents had died in a car accident, they wanted to get away from him and that was the easiest way.'

Harry was livid, nobody talked about the dead like that, especially his parents. So, Harry punched him in the nose and put Dudley into the deadliest head lock anyone had ever seen. Of course, Dudley's friends told on Harry and of course Harry had been grounded but, the Dursleys had not listened to the parents recommending therapy for Harry.

“You better keep your hands off me, Potter.” Dudley muttered to Harry before going up to his room to change. There was no point in starting an argument since Harry was already in deep waters so he willed himself to stay quiet.

“Now, I’ve checked around the house, back yard and the front yard. I've made a list of what needs to be fixed, trimmed and cleaned. Obviously, this chore list is for you and you only. Get it done before supper.” Uncle Vernon passed Harry a long list of things to do around the household but it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to cleaning up after the Dursleys. Regretfully, Harry picked up the list and it read;

Front and back yard:

• Weed flowers
• Cut grass
• Wash windows
• Bug killer
• Wash the porch

House:

• Organize post (from sender)
• Vacuum
• Dishes
• Clean downstairs closet…

So on, so forth. With a huff and not a word more, Harry got up and started on his chores. “All of this, of course, should be done without magic.” Uncle Vernon added with a slight fear in his eyes.

“I… I can’t use magic outside of Hogwarts,” Harry turned around “I’m under age.”

“Well!” The fat man at the head of the table erupted back into joy. “Better get to work boy, don’t want to miss supper!”

Harry headed to the front yard to weed the flowers and caught Aunt Petunia reading the mail. She had a hand over her mouth and her eyes were widened to their full extent.

“Aunt Petunia, are you alright?” She whipped around and held the envelope close to her chest, as if she was cradling a small child.

“Why, yes, of course! What are you doing?”

“I was going to the front yard to do some chores outside.” He flashed her the list that was folded already.

“Of course, be careful with my flowers!” Harry grabbed the door knob almost walked out of the house but then he remembered that Ron and Hermione promised to write to him.

“Uh, aunt Petunia?” She hadn’t moved since Harry walked out.

“Yes?” Petunia looked very unsettled at the moment so Harry tried not to make a fuss.

“Did I get any post, by chance?”

“No, now stop thinking of your weird wizard friends and get to work!” She slammed the door in Harry’s face. Odd. Very odd. Ron and Hermione told Harry that they would write to him so he wouldn’t be absolutely tortured over the summer. Maybe they would write later on in the week besides, it’s only the first day of summer.

Chapter Text

Dear Hermione Granger,

It’s Harry if you didn’t guess by the white owl. How was your first week of summer? All I've been doing is chores and made some fish sing. But don’t worry! I've been keeping up on my studies, reading every night or whenever I can. I miss Hogwarts so much already, don’t you? Have you kept in touch with Ron because he hasn’t sent me an owl yet…? Anyways, I hope you're having a wonderful summer!

Your friend,

Harry J. Potter

Harry folded the parchment into its envelope and given it to Hedwig. He sighed as he saw his owl fly out the small window to the horizon. He was extremely jealous of her, as Harry has trapped inside of his personal hell Hedwig on the other hand could fly free. Soaring through the sky, not worrying about if his friends remembered to write to him or thinking from time to time if running away would be a possibility. The Dursleys had not changed from the time Harry was away, it wasn’t surprising really. They were too wrapped up in their ways, cemented to their ideals. There was no room for change or Harry.

That letter had been sent just about a month ago to his friend. In return, he had received no reply, no scrap of parchment from the book worm or the Weasly boy. But he guessed it was okay, people get busy, right? People make promises during the school year and never fulfill them by the summer holiday. The young wizard understood that Ron was being the guinea pig for the twins’ and Hermione had studying to attend to.

“Harry!” a voice shouted from down stairs but he ignored it, continuing his potions book. “Harry don’t make me come up and get you!” the voice was louder and more angry this time. He shut his book and moseyed on downstairs, in the kitchen there was a pile of post in front of Uncle Vernon. Harry hoped all those letters were for him, just like the year before.

Don’t be so greedy! A voice in his head called out in his head.

“Yes, Vernon?” Harry said as he dodged Dudley and one of his thugs.

“This is for you.” Vernon handed the boy a single sheet of paper and his heart jumped, it was a letter. He reached out for it and from the moment Harry’s hand had touched it, he knew it was not parchment. It couldn’t have been anything to do with Hogwarts.

This single sheet of paper was a note written anonymously, Mr. Dursley mentioned he had found it taped on the front door.

Please cage your animal, it has pooped in my garden multiple times and had damaged my tomato vines. I am not afraid to call animal control.

Thank you.

“Do you know what this means boy?”

“Uh, no sir.” Harry was now being poked and prodded by Dudley and his goon and if they didn’t stop it this…

“The pigeon must stay inside!” uncle Vernon exploded with his fist slamming onto the table. The pinching, poking, and prodding stopped immediately afterwards.

“But Hedwig needs the fresh air, she can’t be caged, she’s an animal!”

“That’s exactly why! Animals were meant to be caged, just look at the zoo!” he gestured wildly with his arms, “Its staying in the cage. Besides, we don’t want any of your freaky wizard friends coming to the house. No siree.” Aunt petunia placed a cup of tea before Uncle Vernon to calm him down.

“Please don’t argue with your uncle, he has more important things to do back in reality.” She shooed him upstairs and harry locked himself in his new room.

He wanted to tell Vernon and Petunia what it was like living with them. He hated them so much. Especially Dudley, he didn’t know what it was like not being spoiled. To not be loved in all directions. To have his parents killed right in front of him before he could even comprehend what death was. Dudley was everything Harry hated. But he also had everything Harry had ever wanted. He had his own home, parents who loved him, friends and hell, he even had a girlfriend at age 12.

Harry barely knew what it was like to be loved.

The story Dudley told to his friends echoed throughout Harry’s mind. “Harry’s parents had died in a car accident, they wanted to get away from him and that was the easiest way.” He knew it wasn’t true but it still hurt him. An unpleasant though appeared in his head;

What if his parents didn’t fight back you-know-who because there was not chance in trying to fight? That they’d rather die than see what would happen next, what would happen to Harry.

He had thought to himself, it’s been almost a month and there’s been no letters sent to him…

Maybe Ron didn’t care about him, he wanted to get close to him because he saw Harry blow his money on the sweet cart. Hermione probably though it would be fitting for the most famous wizard in the world should be friends or even paired with the smartest witch their age.

Of all the people harry had met, they were just interested in his story and not him.

He wanted to disappear. Harry shoved his head into the thin pillow he had brought from the small cupboard. Except… one person.

Draco Malfoy.

He had never asked questions or relished in Harry's fame or fortune. He didn’t talk to him in a condescending way like Malfoy Sr. or like other jealous wizards and Harry liked his attention. Honestly Harry had never felt this way about anyone, not even girls got this far into Harry’s mind. It was refreshing thought, for someone not treating him differently because he was the boy-who-lived. So, Harry picked up his quill and grabbed some parchment.

“Hedwig, you're going on a mission.”

Dear Draco Malfoy,

Chapter Text

This wasn’t a house, no, this was a castle. The multitudes of windows were ten men across and at least 20 men high. Those windows were always kept shut and locked with curtains covering the secrets inside. The paint on this castle was a drab yellowish egg shell but it was well kept. The roof top had a dark brown tint with gothic styling that framed the castle. Within, though it was filled with dark treasures and a well-off family, it was empty and soul-less.

This castle mirrored the lord who owned it, Luicious Malfoy. He, his wife and his bratty son occupied such a space. You’d think that Luicious Malfoy would have extravagant parties and guests always over. No, those rooms were locked up tight from his family. But the house still had to be looked after. Malfoy had the house elves to take care of it, not him – are you mad?! House elves had been with the Malfoys for generations; those who disobeyed would have to inflict self pain.

Lucius had locked himself in himself in his study all weekend. Scheming and planning how he could avenge the Dark Lord’s death by killing Harry Potter.

But he had failed to notice the small shadowy figure behind him. It lurked in the shadows of the study, thriving quietly for the time his master didn’t know he was there. That moment didn’t last long though.

“Dobby.” The dark man called out to the creature, whom, stepped into a small ray of light.

“Yes, master Malfoy?” Dobby bowed slowly.

“What are you doing in my study at this hour?” He had stopped writing and turned to the house elf.

“It’s 4 PM sir, and Dobby had brought master his mail.” The pathetic thing raised the bunched up letters and when it was close enough to Lucius, he had snatched it out of his servant’s hands. He then twirled back to his desk, flicking the letters on to his desk as he read the tops of the envelopes. He stopped at a letter with handwriting he had never seen before, addressed to his son.

“Dobby, where is Draco?” He said slowly, Dobby winced in fear as his master stood.

“Master Draco? He is in the common room, reading, sir.” Dobby observed the Malfoy reach the door and exit. He then walked towards the door but saw it whip open again. “Before you leave Dobby…” Lucius looked around his study “clean up a bit.” The door slammed shut once more.

The poor creature turned to the center of the room and snapped to turn the lights on. He began to put away books labeled ‘Dark Wizards and Witches of Our Time’ and ‘What Happened to Our Dark Lord’ when he had noticed his master had left an unfinished letter on his desk. Dobby picked up the parchment, though he could not read he still noticed the words ‘Voldemort’, ‘Harry Potter’ and ‘kill’

Harry Potter mustn’t return to Hogwarts! Dobby thought with a worried snap.

***

“Draco, my dear boy,” Lucius started sweetly, “may you tell me what the hell is this!” he threw the letter down onto his son’s lap.

“It’s a letter, father.” Draco said without looking away from his book, taking a bite of his sour green apple.

“Obviously it’s a letter. Who is it from? It's muggle parchment!” The boy’s father was running out of patience, clearly.

“Um, I don’t know. The handwriting isn’t familiar to me.” He inspected the envelope, he’s seen the hand writing before but he doesn’t know where from.

“Read it out loud to me and don’t you dare tell a lie.” The young wizard gulped in fear. This letter could be anything, from anyone, in a matter of seconds he could be dead to his father. So, he followed his father’s order and unwrapped the letter carefully as if it was going to explode.

Draco had finally recognized the handwriting and froze.

“What is it boy? Read it!” luicious had hit his son in the leg with his walking stick. Nervously, the small blond cleared his throat and broke out into a sweat.

“Dear Draco Malfoy,” He gulped, “I haven’t heard from anyone from Hogwarts so, I decided to write to you. And hopefully, I addressed this correctly… Anyways, thank you for treating me like I was normal back in school, it was nice to have someone treat me like I was normal not like a special case. You ride your broom really well too; you should try out for the Slytherin Quiddich team! I'm sorry we started off on a bad foot back before the sorting ceremony and all that. I hope we can become friends, or something, one day.” Draco did not dare to read the sender’s name to his father.

“Well, who’s it from?” his father was gripping his staff so tightly, his knuckles were white. His son squeezed his eyes shut; he couldn’t bear to see the look on his father’s face.

“Harry Potter.” He said quickly.

“A Harry Potter?” Draco father’s eyes lit up and scoffed. “How dare he write to you, his owl still here?” he turned to Dobby, which appeared seconds before. Dobby shook his head fearfully and Draco hung his head in shame.

“What should I do?” a small voice came from the boy.

“Reply of course!” his father bursted with his arms midway into the air.

“Really?” He didn’t believe what he was hearing from his father.

“Yes, get your parchment and quill.”

“Yes father, of course father!” Truth be told, Draco had never been this excited to write, ever. He didn’t believe that his father was going to let him write to Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Though his father despised him and planned to kill him later on.

Excitedly he quickly scratched down;

Potter,

Then he felt something cold stop his hand from writing anything more.

“Copy my exact words, I’ll be reading it afterwards.” Mr. Malfoy whispered into his son’s ear and a large pang struck throughout Draco’s heart.