Night had fallen on Number Four, Privet Drive. On the second floor of the utterly ordinary English house, Harry leaned against the windowsill, contemplating his miserable existence. The Dursleys were entertaining an important guest that evening—something to do with his uncle's promotion and a raise—so he'd been ordered to stay locked in his room.
On the plus side, ever since Tom's disturbance, Harry's treatment at the hands of the Dursleys had improved drastically. He now had his own room and wasn't treated quite like a house-elf himself. The Dursleys still clearly disliked him, of course, and rarely spoke to him, but he was happy enough with the peace and quiet.
"Sigh... when will this ever end?" Ever since being tricked into returning by Dumbledore, he hadn't had a single good day.
"Harry Potter..."
Hearing a furtive voice behind him, Harry spun around, wand already halfway out.
There on his bed stood a house-elf, dressed in tattered rags, with large, pointed ears, a short stature, and disturbingly dry skin.
"Who the hell are you?" Harry glared at the uninvited guest who had arrived without so much as a by-your-leave.
"Dobby, sir. Dobby is a house-elf," Dobby squeaked, his slightly timid voice somewhat calming Harry's initial anger and softening his attitude.
"Then what brings you here?" Harry was puzzled. He was certain he had only ever seen house-elves in books before; this was probably the first time he'd actually met one. Why would one be seeking him out? Could it be about that thousand Galleons again?
Thinking this, Harry cautiously moved towards his desk.
"Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter not to go back to Hogwarts, or Harry Potter's life will be in terrible danger!" Dobby looked at Harry with pleading eyes.
But Harry's expression turned strange. "You… you know who I am, right?" Logically, if this creature knew his name, he should also know his… other identity.
Hearing this, Dobby's expression turned admiring. "Of course, Dobby knows! Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived, the savior… Dobby cannot let Harry Potter get hurt!"
"I'm the second-in-command of the Death Eaters," Harry muttered dryly. "Logically, it should be me harming others."
Harry stroked his chin, looking at Dobby with open skepticism.
"It's Voldemort! He is waiting for Harry Potter at Hogwarts! Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!" The more agitated Dobby's tone became, the stranger Harry's expression grew.
Does this idiot think I don't know? Of course I know Tom is waiting for me at Hogwarts!
"Then I'm even more determined to go! Why not stay here and be my colleague?" Harry was starting to grow impatient.
"No! If Harry Potter goes to Hogwarts, he will die!" Dobby jumped off Harry's bed and excitedly scurried up to him.
"You mean… my boss wants to kill me?" Harry finally understood; this house-elf named Dobby was definitely up to no good.
"I am… not entirely sure, sir… but that is likely."
"..."
Harry fell completely silent, pulled open a drawer in the desk next to him, and retrieved his wand.
"So… there's no room for negotiation?" Harry looked at Dobby with a serious expression, giving the little pest one last chance.
"Sorry, Harry Potter…" Dobby hesitated, wringing his oversized ears.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry cast the Petrificus Totalus (Petrify Charm) on Dobby without a moment's further delay.
Dobby, surprisingly nimble, leaped aside to dodge the curse, then pushed open the door and bolted downstairs.
Seeing this, Harry quickly gave chase.
Downstairs, a plump old woman, a distinguished guest of the Dursleys, was happily tucking into a slice of cake. Dobby leaped over and, with a swipe of his grubby hand, smeared the cake all over the old lady's face.
As Dobby landed, a red spell struck him dead-on, sending him staggering.
Harry stood not far away, grinning smugly. "You think you can stop the second-in-command from coming out of retirement?"
Dobby, struck by the Stun Spell (Stupefy), swayed, almost losing his balance, and then… nothing happened.
"Damn it! I forgot you don't have a weapon!"
Harry suddenly realized his mistake and was about to rush forward to grab Dobby…
Then Dobby snapped his fingers and vanished with a soft pop.
In the living room, only the old lady with cake smeared on her face, Dudley frantically munching on snacks, the Dursleys glaring at Harry, and an embarrassed Harry remained.
...
The next morning.
Ding-dong~
The Dursleys' doorbell rang.
"Who is it? Coming, coming!" Mr. Dursley yanked open the door and saw Tom and Cassandra standing outside.
Although Tom had used a Disillusionment Charm when he pranked them last time, Dumbledore had mentioned Tom's appearance when he brought Harry back, just in case the Dursleys were… permanently indisposed.
"Uh… what can I do for you?" Although warned by Dumbledore, Mr. Dursley still instinctively disliked these wizards.
Tom smiled politely. "Long time no see… Oh right, you probably haven't seen me before. Anyway… I'm here to pick up Harry."
Upon hearing this, Mr. Dursley's expression darkened. "Then please go back. He's not going to that ridiculous Magic School anymore!"
Hearing this blatant defiance, Tom's lips curled into a slight, dangerous smile. "Oh? Is that so?"
Five minutes later...
The Dursleys stood stiffly in the living room, completely frozen like statues.
"The curse will automatically dissipate in half an hour." Tom, unusually thoughtful, offered this reminder before leaving with Harry and Cassandra.
...
London, the Leaky Cauldron.
The three of them found a seat in a quiet corner of the pub.
"You mean, a house-elf came to bother you last night, claiming you'd die if you went to Hogwarts?" Tom repeated what Harry had just told him, sipping his Butterbeer with a slight grimace.
"That's what the little freak said, yes. He also claimed Voldemort was behind it, but besides you, wasn't the other Tom Riddle already killed by you, sir?" Harry tried a tentative sip of Butterbeer, finding the taste revoltingly sweet.
"So you let him get away?" Cassandra glanced at Harry with a surprisingly sharp look, her expression turning somewhat displeased. She didn't like rumors about Tom, and if she had the chance, she would happily obliterate that meddlesome house-elf.
But Tom didn't seem to care about any of that, because he had suddenly remembered something of vital importance.
It seems the events of Harry's second year were caused by that Horcrux from the Malfoy family. I seem to have… forgotten to have Lucius give me the damn diary.
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