Ma Chérie

Harry has only three photos of his friends, taken with Dudley’s old Polaroid at Hogwarts during second year (it still had almost a full film).
He placed them on his bedside table in his room at the Dursley’s, at the start of summer.

They don’t move like magical photos, like the one Hagrid gave him of his parents dancing, but Harry doesn’t mind.

The first picture is him, Hermione, and Ron smiling on the Hogwarts Express at the end of second year, Harry grinning wider than ever. It’s a bit blurry, because he took it from the back so he could be in it.

The second one doesn’t have him in, but is a photo of Hermione studying and Ron pretending to study, on a picnic blanket under their usual tree by the Great Lake.
This had been just before Hermione was petrified, and Scotland was surprisingly sunny that day.

The third and final photo (although Harry resolves to take more this third year) is of Draco Malfoy, which the blond had made him swear to never ever show anyone.
It was on Christmas day in Gryffindor’s common room- Draco has a scarf of red tinsel around his neck.
The blond boy is grinning widely, which is the main reason Harry loves the photo- Draco’s proper grins are rare. He normally looks artfully bored and abnormally beautiful- his white blond hair seems to Harry to be magical- Draco has always looked a bit unearthly, sort of like a fairy… Not that Harry thinks about it much, he’s just had a lot of time to reminisce about Hogwarts this summer.

Harry’s been making more of an effort to make his room at the Dursley’s his own this summer- he even painted an alright picture of Hedwig and pinned it to his wall.
She had looked at it when he finished and squawked in approval, before flying out the window to hunt for mice.

At least the Dursley’s have let him leave Hedwig’s cage unlocked so she can hunt, and deliver his letters.

He has also been able to do his homework during the day this year, as the Dursleys are always off on trips to theme parks and the like, leaving Harry alone. He finished all of his Potions work in the first week, and has been studying the Potions they’re doing in third year, memorising them and even figuring out ways to improve them. They all seemed a bit easy, so he has moved on to fourth year potions after finishing with third year. Snape would be proud.

He’s very glad for letters this summer, keeping him in contact with the Wizarding world.

Hermione writes every two days, almost without fail, and Ron writes about once or twice a week as he has to send letters from Egypt, Harry eagerly awaiting their letters and trying not to be jealous of how fun their own summers sound. He wished he was on holiday in Egypt.
He’s only ever been on holiday to Brighton, and that was because the Dursley’s couldn’t find anyone to look after him for a week.

The most interesting letter arrives in the middle of August.

A dark brown, fancy-looking owl that Harry has never seen before lands on his window ledge, looking at Hedwig judgementally.
Harry has a feeling who this owl is from, as its demeanour reminds him of someone else he knows..

He gives the owl a few treats, gently removing the letter tied to its claw. Even the paper feels posh.

The dark owl gives a loud hoot (the Dursley’s would not be happy about that) and flies off into the warm evening sky.

He lies on his bed and unties the parchment to reveal fancy, thin calligraphy. He smiles and starts to read:

Dear Saint Potter/Chosen One/Boy Who has never met a hairbrush,

I hope you gave Arlene (the owl) a few treats, otherwise she will probably bite you. Not my fault.

How’s your summer with the muggles? I bet you miss me.
It’s so boring at the manor, I’ve recently started talking to the peacocks. Yes, peacocks, Potter. I’ll send you a picture of Hugo, my favourite, sometime.

I saw in the Prophet that Weasley’s off getting a nice tan in Egypt. I’m not that jealous- I myself cannot tan, I just burn. One of life’s major injustices, I know.

Anyway, I hope you’re not letting the muggles get you down.
In case you’re wondering, Hermione gave me your address so I could write this lovely letter to you.

Hermione said in her letter that she’s already reading the 4th year Transfiguration textbooks, as she’s finished the 3rd year text already.
Sadly for her, I’ve already read both 3rd and 4th year books, and am starting the 5th year one now. I will not let her beat me to top place in Transfiguration this year, I assure you.

I’ve enclosed my own address (actually, the local muggle post office, as I’m sure my father looks over my letters sometimes) on the back of this parchment. I know you’re probably exceedingly eager to write me back.

Love and kisses from your favourite Slytherin,

Draco

P.S- I have grown 11 inches this summer so far, so will tower over you this year.

P.P.S- Guess who got a new broom (hint: dashing blond fellow). Can’t wait to absolutely crush you at Quidditch.

*

Harry is returning from the local library on a sweltering day a few days after he received the letter from Draco when Aunt Marge arrives. (Harry still hasn’t replied to the letter- he wrote three drafts but decided they were all too boring and has resolved to try again later).
Not technically his aunt, but Vernon Dursley’s sister, this massive woman is the worst of the worst Dursley.

She would prove right all the pureblood anti-muggle wizards, just with her pure awfulness.

He mumbles a greeting because he knows he’ll be in trouble if he doesn’t, before running up two steps at once to get to his room, ignoring her insults floating up the stairs after him.

He flops onto his bed and opens the most recent book he’s borrowed from the local library. It’s the third of a series of French for beginners books, and Harry is rather proud of his progress so far.

Since the start of summer he’s already got the hang of conversational French, and is having fun on the current section of the book, which is ‘French insults’.
He’s saved up a few for Malfoy, although he’s decided to get really good at French before surprising Draco.

When he first mentioned his decision to learn French in a letter to Hermione a while ago, she sent him at least 5 actual French novels of hers’, as her mum’s from Senegal so speaks fluent French.
Hermione’s sad she never learnt, she told Harry in her letter, but, as she said, ‘there’s just so much to learn at Hogwarts already’.
She also told him she’s planning on taking all of the optional subjects next year, which Harry didn’t even know was possible, but it’s Hermione, so, really, anything’s possible.

*

After three hours of French, one hour responding to Draco’s letter, and one hour of Defence Against The Dark Arts, Harry is called down to dinner (which he will have to serve, he already knows).

He serves the roast dinner to the Dursley’s before eating his own, and then has to get back up to serve dessert and refill the wine glasses.
He hates playing servant for the Dursleys, but he knows he has to play nice for now, as Vernon has promised to sign his Hogsmeade permission slip if Harry ‘behaves himself’.

He’s giving Marge her fifth refill of red wine, when the cruel-faced woman starts talking about Harry’s parents, who she knows nothing about except a few lies Vernon’s told them.
He clenches his fists and forces himself to think of flying on his broom and Hogwarts.

When she calls his father a drunk and his mother a bitch, however, Harry can’t control his anger anymore.

“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!”

As he’s shouting, a strange thing starts to happen. Marge’s fingers are swelling, and her neck, and then all of her is blowing up like a balloon.

She floats out of the conservatory and away into the evening sky, with much shouting from Petunia and Vernon. Dudley just continues watching his TV programme. It’s an interview with the band Blur, actually, Harry sees out the corner of his eyes.

He’s had enough of Privet Drive, and knows he’s probably expelled from Hogwarts for underage magic, so he runs upstairs and grabs his trunk, throwing in everything haphazardly, squashing all his clothes (not that there are many) in.

He shuts the case, grabs his wand, broom, and Hedwig’s cage (she squawks at him) and runs down the stairs and out the door away from Vernon Dursley’s shouts of “change her back”.
All he says as a farewell is a growled, “She deserved what she got,” to his uncle.

*

He’s wandered to the edge of Little Whinging and is feeling cold and tired, when he stops at the local park.
The swings are creaking and it’s creeping Harry out. Not as creepy as the massive black dog that he spots staring at him in the bushes behind the park.

Harry pulls out his wand and holds it up, about to cast Lumos to see the dog-demon-thing, but as he stands there a dark blue bus suddenly swerves round the corner and stops abruptly in front of him.

Harry falls over, shocked at the bus appearing out of nowhere, and from the ground he stares at a young man who gets off and starts introducing himself. As he’s telling Harry welcome to ‘the Knight Bus, for the stranded witch or wizard’, he seems to notice Harry lying there in the dirt, and offers a hand to help him up.

This man happens to be called Stan Shunpike, and he leads Harry onto the strange bus, which is full of four poster beds with witches and wizards sleeping on them.

Harry, in his exhaustion and confusion, tells the driver (Ernie) that he is going to The Leaky Cauldron. He can’t think of anywhere else a potentially expelled wizard could stay the night, as he doesn’t know any other wizarding public houses.

*

Harry arrives at the Leaky Cauldron late, and the bloody Minister of Magic is there to greet him.
Harry’s instantly worried about being expelled or even put in Azkaban, as that’s what he assumes the Minister is there for.

Luckily, but oddly, Minister Fudge brushes off Harry’s concerns and tells him it’s nothing to worry about, of course he’s not expelled. The portly man then warns Harry not to go wandering off on his own, with Black on the loose.

Harry had seen the escaped murderer on Stan Shunpike’s Daily Prophet, on the Knight bus, and so he knew who to look out for. Still, he wonders why Fudge was specifically warning him.

As soon as he’s alone in his hotel room above the Leaky Cauldron, Harry collapses on the bed and falls into a heavy sleep, empty of dreams.

*

Honestly, why can’t he run away from the Dursley’s every bloody summer. Having Diagon Alley only a five minute walk from his hotel room is amazing, as is Harry’s realisation that he can literally do whatever he wants (except ‘wander off too far’ apparently). He wonders if he can go into Muggle London..

The first thing he does in Diagon Alley is take out a hefty pile of galleons from his Gringotts vault. He also converts some of his galleons into muggle money, in case he decides to sneak out to muggle London.

Standing outside the bank with his bag full of wizarding money, Harry is overwhelmed by the endless choice of shops.

He has three days here till he has to catch the Hogwarts Express on the 3rd September, so he decides he might as well check out as many places as possible.

Both previous times Harry’s come to Diagon Alley he had to rush about, quickly finding and buying the school books and potions ingredients needed.
This normally made for quite a hectic experience with not much time to browse, but this summer is different.

Harry buys all of his school books first, before spending a good hour poring over a ‘Potions for Defence’ book in Flourish and Blotts’. He only stops reading when the pimpled shop assistant asks him if he’s going to buy the book, and if not, then he needs to clear off.
He buys the book. It’s only a galleon anyway.

He then wanders into each shop along the street, taking his time to look around at the weird magical stuff being sold as well as buying the necessary Hogwarts things.
In a second-hand book shop, he finds a few of the ‘Lilipet the Dragon Tamer’ comics that Draco had lent him, and can’t help but buy a couple of them. They had been very interesting to read, and he couldn’t very well ask Draco to borrow his again.

Harry has a break in Fortescue’s ice cream parlour (he gets a huge chocolate sundae) before going to Madam Malkin’s for new school robes.
As he had boasted in his letter to Draco, Harry has grown a lot over the summer, he’s perhaps even a foot taller than the previous year. Sadly, the downside of this is his robes stopping above his ankles and the sleeves almost at his elbows.

He feels slightly nostalgic as he enters the robe shop, remembering first meeting Malfoy in there- the first wizard his age that Harry had ever met, and he had been a bit of a snob. Okay- a lot of a snob. Still. Fond memories.

After Madam Malkin’s, Harry is feeling exhausted from all the shopping, and decides to have a nap back in his hotel room. He ends up sleeping till 9 am the next morning.

*

The second day, Harry decides resolutely that he needs some actual clothes of his own, not just Dudley’s baggy old t-shirts or his one pair of jeans.
He also wants to have a look around muggle London anyway, as he’s only ever been to the tourist bits on school trips, and not the cool vintage areas and other shopping districts.

He decides he’s probably not exactly allowed to go off on his own into Muggle London, so he wears his invisibility cloak until he’s got at least three streets away from the Leaky Cauldron, before taking it off and stuffing the bundled up cloak into his bag. He’s glad for the extendable charm Hermione put on his rucksack at the end of last year.

This being London, it’s obviously raining, even in the summer.
Harry doesn’t mind though, he’s busy staring at the album covers in a HMV shop window.

He only really listens to music on the radio, or borrows Hermione’s cassette player at school, and so he can’t help but be intrigued by the sheer amount of music to buy in this shop.
He goes in, and twenty minutes later, exits with his own new cassette player and five different cassettes.

Harry mainly chose the cassettes on the album or artist names, if they sounded interesting or not. He did find the Beatles ‘Rubber Soul’ album as a cassette though, which he knew he liked from hearing on the radio sometimes, so he got that.

The other four cassettes he bought are by the artists: David Bowie, Blur, Pink Floyd, and Blondie.
The last one he had only gotten because it reminded him of Draco and he planned to tease the boy with it.

Harry spends the rest of his day happily, finding a cool area around Neil Street in Covent Garden, which is a great place for vintage clothing.
Lunch he has in a busy indoor market- chicken korma with extra naan bread.

Harry feels a bit overwhelmed at some points, considering he’s just a teenager still, and alone, but weirdly, he feels safe in London’s winding streets, so the feeling passes.
He’s used to being alone most of the summer anyway, as the Dursleys aren’t normally much company.

As the sun starts to set, casting the buildings in an orange glow, Harry pulls on his invisibility cloak and sneaks back into The Leaky Cauldron, depositing his purchases in his room before having dinner.

*

On the third and final day, Harry hears a muddle of familiar voices as he walks downstairs, and sees a massive fluffy and orange cat run past him chasing a rat that he recognises.

The cat jumps into a curly-haired, dark-skinned witch’s arms, and this witch turns round to Harry.

“HARRY! We missed you! This is Crookshanks, by the way!”
Hermione shouts as she envelops him in a crushing hug.

Harry spots Ron standing behind Hermione, holding Scabbers, his rat, protectively. The ginger boy grins and says,

“Yeah, hi mate. Wicked jacket.”

Harry is wearing a new suede jacket that he got the previous day, as well as high rise Docs that are hurting his feet but which he already loves. Hermione steps back from hugging Harry, seeming to notice his outfit too, and says,

“Oh yeah, you look like a famous 1950s badass actor, Harry. James Dean or someone.”

Harry has no idea who that is, but responds with,

“Thanks guys. It’s great to see you both too. How was Egypt Ron- you look well tanned!”

After the three have caught up- Hermione’s shocked that he blew up his aunt, Ron is in awe- Harry turns and says hi to the rest of the Weasley’s and Hermione’s parents. It turns out they’re all staying the night at the Leaky Cauldron so they don’t have to rush off too early to Kings’ Cross tomorrow.
Mrs Weasley gives Harry a big hug and tells him how much he’s grown, while Mr Weasley says to him that he’d like to have a quick chat, if Harry wouldn’t mind.

Ron’s dad tells him almost the same spiel as Fudge, except he also adds that Black is most probably looking for Harry, and will be trying to kill him. Yay. Harry had sort of guessed this from Fudge’s manner, but it makes him shiver to know it for sure.

*

Harry tells Ron and Hermione the gist of what Mr Weasley said while they’re on the train. The mysterious sleeping professor doesn’t wake up the whole time he’s telling them, and Harry wonders if this professor will last longer than his predecessors at teaching Defence.

The drably dressed man- Remus J. Lupin- only awakens when a dementor comes into their compartment and starts sucking out Harry’s soul. Talk about a mood killer.

Luckily, Lupin casts some spell none of them have ever heard of, scaring the dementor off. Harry doesn’t see Lupin do this, however, as he faints instead.

When he’s come to, he eats the chocolate Lupin offers him and worries about what’s wrong with him. The other two weren’t anywhere near as affected by the dementor as Harry, and Hermione tells him, in a worried voice, that none of them heard a woman screaming. Harry wonders absently why the scream had sounded so familiar…

He just hopes that this year isn’t such a disaster as second year was. At least there’s no basilisk.