Harry's POV:

It was now almost the end of summer. I was sitting in my room, looking through my photos in a scrapbook, but stopped at a photo of Ron and Hermionie. I missed them, dearly. Hedwig made a sound so loud that it scared me. I jumped and looked over to see Hedwig pecking at the lock on her cage.

“I can't, Hedwig. I'm not allowed to use magic outside of school. Besides, if Uncle Vernon –”

As if on cue, Hedwig made a louder sound, and my uncle called me.

“HARRY POTTER! YOU COME DOWN THIS INSTANT!”

“Now you’ve done it.” I mutter as I look back at Hedwig before turning and walking out of my room.

“I warned you. If you can't control that bloody bird, it'll have to go.”

“She's bored. If I could just let her out for an hour or two –”

“And have you sending secret messages to your freaky little friends? No, sir.”

I rolled my eyes and looked away. “But I haven't gotten any messages. From any of my friends. Not one. All summer”

Dudley laughed. “Who'd want to be friends with you?”

I glare at Dudley while he just smiles and laughs.

“I should think you'd be more grateful. We have raised you since you were a baby,” I roll my eyes, not my choice, “give you food off our table,” again, not by choice, “even let you have Dudley's second bedroom... purely out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“I thought he got the second bedroom because Mum was afraid he'd turn us into dung beetles if you put him back in the cupboard under the stairs.” Dudley spoke and I smiled at him which caused him to look away.

“Well, I'll just be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I don't exist.” I said, sighing and backing away.

I enter my room, closing the door and then turning and stopping dead in my tracks to see a creature with bat-like ears and bulging green eyes just jumping on my bed as if it were a trampoline.

“Harry Potter! Such an honor it is!”

“What... Who are you?”

"Dobby, sir. Dobby the house elf.”

“I see. Not to be rude or anything, but this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom. “

“Oh, yes, sir, Dobby understands. It's just that, Dobby has come to tell you... it is difficult, sir... Dobby wonders where to begin. “

“Why don't you sit down?”

“S-s-sit down?”

Suddenly Dobby bursts into loud tears and I start to panic.
Why is he crying?!
I try frantically to calm him down so I don’t cause any issues with my uncle or aunt.

“Shhhh! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you or anything –”

“Offend Dobby! Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but never has he been asked to sit down by a wizard, like an equal... “

I look at the door quickly to make sure I don’t hear anything when Dobby's words finally sink in. I looked at Dobby and frowned.
Who’s house elf is he?

“You can't have met many decent wizards then.”

Dobby shakes his head, then without warning, he leaps off my bed and starts to band his head furiously on the dresser. “Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!” Dobby gets back to his feet, wobbling, eyes spinning dizzily. I regard him with a mixture of concern and wariness. Too scared that I’d set him off again.

“Are you... all right?”

“Dobby had to punish himself, sir. Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir.”

“Your… family?”

“The wizard family Dobby serves, sir. Dobby is bound to serve one family forever. If they ever knew Dobby was here…” Dobby shudders in fear, then looks up, whispers urgently. “But Dobby had to come. Dobby has to protect Harry Potter. To warn him,” In a fierce whisper, “Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. “
“Not go back? But... I have to.”

“This is a plot. A plot to make most terrible things happen. If Harry Potter goes back to school he will be in great danger.”

I frown. “What terrible things? Who's plotting them?”

Dobby shakes his head as he looks away. “I can’t say.” He then looks around my room. Dobby grabs the bedside lamp and starts beating himself about the head and yelping loudly.

I wrestle the lamp away from him, yelling at him to stop. “Stop! Stop!”

Footsteps thunder on the landing. Quickly, I grab Dobby by the pillowcase and pitch him into the wardrobe... just as the door flings open and Uncle Vernon appears. “What the devil are you doing up here! You've just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke. One more sound and you'll wish you'd never been born, boy!” He stomps flat-footed from the room and slams the door. I let Dobby out of the wardrobe and sigh.

“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.”

“Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?

“Well, I expect they've been -- hang on, how do you know my friends haven't been writing me?”

Guiltily, Dobby takes out a big bulky stack of letters.

“Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby -- Dobby hoped if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him... Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir…”

“Give me those. Now.”

Dobby handed them to me hesitantly but as I was about to grab them, he shrieked and ran out of the room. I panicked and ran after him as he ran down the stairs. Dobby bounces like a ping-pong ball down the stairs and into the kitchen. As I race in, I find Dobby on the counter, waving his arms. Aunt Petunia's masterpiece of a pudding rises, then floats into the living room, hovering over the Mason's heads. The Masons don't see, but the Dursleys – goggle-eyed--do.

“Dobby... Please... No..”

“Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school.”

“I can't. Hogwarts is my home.”

“Then Dobby must do it, sir. For Harry Potter's own good.”

Dobby snaps his fingers and the pudding plummets– straight onto the Masons. They stand blinking, covered head to foot with whipped cream and sugared violets. The Masons exit. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia race after them.

“I'm sorry. It's our nephew. Very disturbed. Meeting strangers upsets him, so we kept him upstairs…”

The Masons get into their car and drive off, just as a shrieking sound splits the sky. An owl swoops down, and drops a letter at Uncle Vernon's feet. He picks up the letter, opens it. As he reads it, a mad gleam dances in Uncle Vernon's eye. He turns and races back inside the house. Aunt Petunia follows. Uncle Vernon runs back into the living room, extends the letter to me.

“Go on. Read it. “

“'Dear Mr. Potter. We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence at twelve minutes past seven this evening. As you know, underage wizards...'” I mumble.

“'... are not permitted to perform spells outside school.'” Uncle Vernon finishes. “You didn't tell us you weren't Allowed to use magic at home. Slipped your mind, didn't it? Well, I've got news for you, boy. I'm locking you up! And if you try to magic yourself out, they'll expel you! You're never going back to that school! Never!”

I stare gloomily out the window. The metal flap of my door opens and Dudley's pudgy hand slides a bowl of tinned soup onto the floor. He grins cruelly through the opening.

“I know what day it is.”

“Well done, Dudley. Finally learned the days of the week, have you.”

“Today's your birthday. And nobody cares.’ Dudley snaps shut the flap. I sigh, take the soup and a bit of stale bread, and cross to Hedwig.

“It's no good turning your beak up. It's all we've got.” I feed a piece of bread to Hedwig with a sigh. I shouldn’t be putting her in this situation