Chapter 4
The summer of 1992 was... an experience, shall we say. Harry hadn't been back once since September, and Daisy and Dahlia had grown from babies of eight months to toddlers of eighteen months. Instead of bald little baby heads, they had shiny blond hair. Most heartbreakingly, they didn't recognise him, and were quite uneasy with him for the first week. He won them over by being able to decipher their speech better than any of the others. Petunia was quite cross that, while they had crawled and walked on schedule, their speech was not particularly advanced. Most of the time, she said, they babbled and hissed. Dudley had known dozens of words at that age! Foodstuffs, names of toys, 'no', 'shan't', 'want'... The twins knew 'mummy' and 'daddy', of course, and Petunia had worked hard to teach them to say 'Duddy' for when Dudley was due back from Smeltings. Harry was pretty sure he had heard them say quite a few words, but Aunt Petunia didn't like him contradicting her, so he kept silent and did his chores. Petunia wanted to give the entire house a deep clean, now she had an extra pair of hands, and the garden fence and shed needed re-painting. He resumed nappy duty, fetched whichever toys the twins wanted him to fetch for them, and read books to them at their request. Nobody else had the patience for a dozen re-iterations of Where's Kitty, every single day, but Harry didn't mind, much. It was worth it to see them comfortable with him again, and he gloried in it, knowing that they'd probably forget him again before next summer. He loved Hogwarts, loved magic, disliked the other Dursleys, disliked the fact that he had to do his own grocery shopping and hide it in his trunk in the attic in order to get enough food... but he did miss the twins at Hogwarts, just as he missed his friends at Privet Drive.
They hadn't managed to write to him, even though he'd sent Hedwig to Ron with two books of stamps and careful instructions, the very first day after he got back. And Hermione surely didn't need any help with Muggle post. It occurred to him that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia might hae been intercepting his post, but surely if they had, they'd have been noticeably cross with him having the audacity to have 'freaks' write to them? Or gloating at spoiling his fun? Perhaps his friends' families were keeping them too busy to write to him, he thought. After all, it had taken him over a week before he had managed to sit down and write proper letters to Ron and Hermione, rather than just the one hurried note to Ron explaining the stamps. It had been over two weeks now; perhaps a letter would come soon. Hedwig was a little cross for some reason, but he petted and stroked her, and talked to her soothingly. Uncle Vernon still didn't know she existed (while Petunia chose not to investigate the possibility that the owl who was occasionally seen in the neighbourhood had something to do with Harry), and so he was able to leave the attic window open for her to come and go as she pleased. It made things a little cold for Harry, but he had his winter-weight dressing-gown to use as an extra blanket, and nobody else noticed the draught. He fed Hedwig owl treats, but she hunted for most of her food.
The absence of letters was not explained until the night of the Mason's dinner party. All their parts were planned out in advance. The Masons wouldn't arrive until the evening, after the twins' bedtime; they might be invited to peek in on the twins, in which case Harry was to make himself scarce, but otherwise he was to keep an ear out for them, and stop them crying and disturbing the dinner party. If the Masons happened to catch sight of him - and they shouldn't - he was the Dursleys' nephew, babysitting, and no indication was to be given that he actually lived with them. No weirdness. He was to do his best to pretend to be perfectly normal, or else.
It might have worked quite well if it hadn't been for Dobby. True, Dahlia was having a restless evening, wanting a tea party of her own, and absolutely not wanting to go to bed, but she had a plastic tea-set for that, and Daisy was quite happy to join in, as long as Harry and the dolls and teddy bears were on their best behaviour. Both girls were quite content with the plastic pretend food, rather than demanding real food, so that was something, and Harry dutifully played along. The tea party had turned into a ball, which was just winding down, when Dobby appeared with a pop.
Harry was much harsher with him than he might otherwise have been, initially perceiving him as a threat to the girls, and Dobby had to promise he would never, ever harm little witchlings before Harry even agreed to listen to what he had to say. He didn't tell Dobby how much he hated it at the Dursleys', or that he wasn't getting enough food, or that the thought of Hogwarts was the only thing keeping him going, because none of that was quite true.
"Dobby, I'm a kid," he explained instead. "I'm eleven. Kids have to go to school; that's a rule. Dudley goes to Smeltings, and I go to Hogwarts. My parents put my name down, and the tuition was already paid, and I don't have parents any more, so there's nobody who can decide to send me to another magic school. The Dursleys were going to send me to Stonewall High if I didn't go to Hogwarts, but my letter came, so that's where I go. I like it there, anyway. I have friends."
"Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?" asked Dobby, and promptly started a campaign to get Harry expelled.
The Masons were not impressed with the large owl that interrupted their dinner party. Mrs Mason was terrified of large birds, and Mr Mason didn't think much of a man who allowed his daughters' babysitter to bring dangerous pets into the house. Vernon was furious. Harry got the belt, and was then confined to the attic until further notice.
"If you can't be trusted not to do dangerous hocus-pocus in the house, you won't be allowed in the house!" he roared. "Any more nonsense out of you, and it'll be the garden shed!" Harry stayed in the attic, stroking Hedwig for comfort, while he listened to the twins cry, first for Where's Kitty, and then for Harry to read to them. Aunt Petunia was saying "there there," offering them sweeties and other treats to keep them quiet, but it didn't seem to occur to her to try reading to them. "I do wish you wouldn't hiss, darling," he heard her say. "It isn't nice. Use your words. Mummy's here. Do you want Daddy? Do you want Duddy? Do you want your teddy bear?" Dahlia wanted Where's Kitty. "What about nice choccy biccy? Do you want choccy biccy?" Daisy thought Mummy was silly, and wanted Harry. Harry was quite glad Aunt Petunia hadn't understood that bit. And honoured though he was that they wanted him, he also hated hearing them in distress. As punishments went, it was quite a thorough one.
He stopped stroking Hedwig long enough to compose a letter to Professor McGonagall, explaining about the house-elf and the warning letter, and begging not to be expelled. He included a stamped, self-addressed envelope for the reply, 'as my relatives dislike owls immensely.' He also wrote to Madam Hopkirk, with pleas and excuses and promises of future compliance, also including an envelope in case she wished to reply. He wrote to Ron and Hermione, to explain the situation with the house-elf and how he hadn't got any of their letters through no fault of his own. He sorted through the bundle of letters Dobby had left, and wrote to Hagrid and to Neville, thanking them for their letters and apologising about the time it took. Hedwig was kept very busy for the fortnight of Harry's disgrace. He was allowed out of the attic twice a day, for five minutes, to use the toilet, and gulp down as much tap water as he could. He was also given one sandwich per day.