Chapter Text
Harry ducked behind a pillar and held his breath while mentally screaming for help. He could hear the not-ghost of Tom fucking Riddle cackling in the distance and a truly massive basilisk sliding closer. Fawkes had just pecked the thing’s eyes out and Harry felt nauseated by the vision of blood so dark it looked black pouring down the serpent’s face to the frigid water below. He never wanted to hurt the serpent! He just wanted a chance to at least try to escape certain death. Now he would have the blinding of a magnificent creature eating at his conscience right along with all the other bullshit he had to feel guilty for. He took a chance to run back toward the collapsed tunnel when the noise reached a deafening pitch as Tom’s laughter echoed eternally through the twisting corridors. Suddenly the sound stopped and all he could hear was the slap of his shoes on the wet stone. The next second had the path before him filling with the massive head of the basilisk.
Harry slid to a stop and doubled back. The snake may not be able to see, but its sense of smell was still intact. He ran as fast as his exhausted legs could carry him, slipping on the polished stone under two inches of near-freezing water. He burst out of the tunnel back into the main chamber and collapsed on the ground beside Ginny’s motionless body. The translucent form of the teen Dark Lord was nowhere to be seen, so Harry pressed his fingers to Ginny’s throat and begged her to have a pulse. His hands were shaking but he was sure he could feel something. The un-natural glow that surrounded Young Voldemort appeared from a hidden alcove and Harry cried out loud for help.
Fawkes reappeared in a flash of flames and dropped something on Harry’s head. He heard the soft voice of the Sorting Hat in his head and shouted, “Help me! Please! Get Dumbledore or something! Anything!”
The hat chuckled merrily, “Help is always there for those who ask for it, Harry Potter. You’ve shown your Gryffindor bravery tonight.” The hat dropped something heavy on Harry’s head and vanished.
Harry rubbed the lump on his head before picking up a stunning silver sword with garnets embedded in the hilt with a golden lion’s head holding the gem in its mouth. The snake followed the quickly solidifying teenager slowly into the chamber, returning Harry’s attention to the real reason he had a fucking sword in his hand. He pushed himself up and wobbled on shaky legs until he regained his balance. He held the sword out in front of him ready to strike if he could when he felt something pull him back. His arm dropped as an overwhelming desire to stop fighting washed over him. He let the tip of the sword rest on the floor and sagged where he stood. Relief washed over him when the serpent turned around and raced back through the statue’s open mouth.
Voldemort Lite stopped the maniacal laughing and screamed with rage instead, “Get back here! ~I am your master! Return to me, you ungrateful beast!~ ”
Harry leaned heavily on the sword and giggled when the tip sank into the stone, ~That’s no way to talk to a creature that size, Tommy. Can we be done now? I’m tired.~
Tom was struck silent once more. He observed the very small boy who was somehow managing to thwart his every move. There was nothing particularly remarkable about him. Until he opened his mouth. “You speak Parseltongue? Who are you?”
Harry rolled his eyes and hoisted the sword, “I’m a fucking problem.” He slammed the sword into the diary that was apparently the cause of all this madness and cringed when it let out a piercing wail that was matched by the now-fading image of a not-quite Dark Lord. Ginny moaned and sat up. Harry pulled her to her feet and started dragging her toward the exit, “Come on Gin. I’ll explain everything in the hospital wing later. I’m sure I’ll have to report to the headmaster for all this.
******
Harry wriggled in the back seat of Uncle Vernon’s posh car. He was hoping he wouldn’t get a beating as soon as they got to the house. It wasn’t home. Literally anywhere was home if it wasn’t on Privet Drive. He knew it wasn’t going to be good after the Weasleys literally ripped the bars off the window and stole him away in the dead of night. He wasn’t worried about going hungry this summer at the very least. He freed a house elf a few days ago, and promptly bound the elf to himself after learning that a house elf’s life is practically forfeit if they don’t have a magical family to bolster their magic. Dobby promised he could get past any lock Vernon put on the room (or cupboard) and that he would bring Harry food any time he was hungry.
Thankfully, Harry was sent to his room without a beating. There were nine bloody locks on the door and a cat flap, but he wasn’t beaten. Harry called that a solid fucking win. He flopped onto the bare mattress and put his arm over his eyes. Instead of drifting off to sleep, Harry was dropped head-first into a nightmare. He was back in the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk was weeping.
There were gaping holes where her eyes once were. Black blood flowed to the flooded floor and mixed with the icy water. Her voice was strained and fading as her life’s blood ran out of her, ~I never wanted this. I was forced to attack you. Forgive me, Hatchling. Forgive me so that I can die in peace!~
Harry reached out to her and cried, ~I’m sorry! You have nothing to apologize for. You’re dying alone because of me. I’m the one who needs to ask for forgiveness. I’ll make it right. I swear I will. I’ll make it right.~”
He snapped awake in a cold sweat with his shirt sticking to his back. Dobby was standing at the end of the bed worrying the trim of his ratty pillowcase. Harry let his arm fall back over his eyes and grunted, “We need to figure out a way for you to have nicer clothes, Dobby. That thing is filthy and you deserve better.”
Dobby dropped the dirty cloth and meeped, “Master Harry Potter Sir is so very kind! Dobby is only knowing life with his last family, sir. Dobby’s mother trained him the same way her mother and father trained her. We is being Malfoy elfs for so very long.”
Harry flinched and sat up. He realized the sun was set and the crickets were chirping. “Dobby. No. Oh, god. You’ve had a worse go at it than me. Ok. Let me think about this. I can’t give you clothes without freeing you again, and I really don’t feel like freeing you and bonding with you repeatedly just to build a wardrobe for you. Loopholes. Can I tell you to buy fabric?” Dobby nodded his head emphatically but remained quiet. “Ok, we can work with that. As my house elf, you have access to my Gringotts vault. Right! Dobby, when the shops open tomorrow, I want you to go buy some fabric that you like. When you get back with it, make yourself some clothes that make you happy. Just keep it slightly professional so you can do business for me.”
Dobby clapped his hands excitedly before remembering they had to stay quiet, “Dobby can be doing that for Master Harry Potter Sir! Dobby can also be using elf magic that won’t get bad attention from the Ministry.”
Harry sighed and relaxed back on the bed again, “Great! We’ll explore the limitations of that later. For now, I want to try to sleep and forget everything that happened in the bloody chamber. Could you not call me master? It makes me feel really gross.”
Dobby thought for a moment before snapping his fingers, “Dobby will call you Mister Harry! No one will know that you is my master. Dobby is keeping Mister Harry safe from all the bad people. Sleeps, Mister Harry. Dobby will have breakfast ready when you wakes up. And you won’t be doing any of the chores your nasty aunt is pinning to the board in the kitchen. Dobby is doing them for you.” Harry was so tired he drifted off before hearing the end of what Dobby had to say.
The first few days of summer break were magnificent. Harry hid in his room and let Dobby finish all of his chores before noon. When the cleaning was done, he went down to the garden and pruned the rose bushes. It wasn’t on the list, but he really enjoyed gardening. Digging his hands in fresh soil and watching something grow with tender care instead of violence and harsh words was soothing to his soul. His wonderful day was destroyed when he heard a car door slam and a round of raucous barking floated to his backyard oasis. Marge was here.
Harry scrambled up and picked up the rake just in time. Ripper, a stout English Bulldog that got a taste for Harry’s flesh when he was five, burst through the back door snarling and gnashing his teeth. He knew if he used the rake to beat the dog back he would be beaten, and he was really trying to avoid that this summer. With Marge and Ripper around so early in the break, it wasn’t looking good.
Marge was a massive woman who towered over her brother and instilled fear in the hearts of little children everywhere. She knew about magic after an incident when she was headmistress of a school in America. A girl called Matilda scared Marge so badly she ran right back to England and took up breeding dogs for show. Harry didn’t know the whole story of how Marge Dursley managed to convince Americans she was one of them so she could compete on their Olympic teams and then became head of a school, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He’d even heard Vernon and Petunia talking about her changing her identity and everything! Not a person you wanted to be on the bad side of.
She stood in the backyard with her feet shoulder-width apart with her hands on her hips and glared at the scrawny boy, “What do you think you’re doing with that rake, boy?” Her wicked grin spread when Harry cowered against a tree. “Gonna climb the tree again? Can’t take the rake with you, boy.”
Harry felt his magic building for a fight and had to use all of his strength to hold it back. The dog was snapping at the end of the rake that Harry had guarding his feet and shins. Vernon had his hand on Dudley’s back while the rotund teen was doubled over laughing. Petunia was scowling from the doorway and kept looking over her shoulder to make sure her precious supper (that Harry cooked) wasn’t spoiling. Harry jumped out of the way as Ripper lunged and tore the plastic end of the rake off with his powerful jaws. His jump wasn’t far enough to stay out of reach of the sharp tines as Ripper shook his head. Pain seared in his calf as blood started running down his leg.
Everything went ass over tea kettle when the dog smelled blood and whipped around with his teeth bared. Harry screamed. Dobby popped up in front of him. Marge screamed about fucking wizards. Ripper lunged for Harry’s throat. Dobby flung his arm out to shield Harry and a flash of bright white light flashed out of his palm. Ripper exploded into a million tiny pieces splattering the entire yard in a fine mist of blood. Silence held for a split second before Petunia let out a blood-curdling scream that set off a car alarm next door and got all the dogs in the neighborhood barking. Harry grabbed Dobby’s arm and darted into the house as Marge turned her enormous body around with unexpected dexterity. She grabbed Dobby’s ankle and yanked hard. Harry stumbled just before he got his hand around the doorknob for the cupboard under the stairs. Dobby wrenched his ankle free and sent another flash of magic at Marge.
It wasn’t a fine mist of blood that covered him, now. Oh no. There wasn’t a dry spot on Harry. He slipped a few times before regaining his footing. He pulled the cupboard door open and wrestled his trunk out, “Dobby! I need you to calm down for a minute, ok? You’re going to have to clean all of this up. Not a trace left behind. Then get in my trunk and we’ll make a run for it. You protected me, and I’m protecting you. Go! Be quick!”
Dobby nodded his head once and snapped his fingers. The hallway and Harry were cleaner than they had been before Marge exploded. Harry didn’t wait around to see if Dobby’s snap cleaned the backyard. He opened his trunk and helped Dobby crawl in. Before he could close the lid, Dobby put his hand on Harry’s chest, “Dobby owes Mister Harry his life. Go out to the road and hold out you’s wand arm. The Knight Bus will come for you.”
Harry covered Dobby’s hand with his own and then closed the lid. He was out the front door and decided to walk at least two streets over to avoid suspicion if someone called the police about the noise. He was rounding the bend on Wisteria Walk when he felt eyes following him. He kept walking but quickly located the source of the feeling. A dog larger than anything he’d ever seen was stalking him behind the row of trees that lined the barrier between neighborhoods. He was about to stick out his arm and summon the bus in hopes that it would get there fast enough to avoid another dog attack when the dog crouched down low on its belly and whined. Harry paused and squinted toward the dark form. The massive canine crept close and continued its cries. You could see his ribs through filthy matted fur.
Harry closed his eyes and sighed heavily before he knelt down and reached out a hand and beckoned the creature to him, “Come on, then. I figure I could use a bodyguard with the shit I’ve seen tonight. Think this Knight Bus will have a problem with a big fuckin’ dog going for a ride?” The dog yipped quietly and licked at the drying blood on Harry’s injured leg. “I guess we’ll find out together, huh? Come on, Scruffy. Let’s catch a ride outta this hell-hole.”
The dog sat down politely beside Harry and looked up at him expectantly. Harry shook his head and huffed out a breath. He lifted his right arm and wondered how long he would have to wait. The answer came before he could even finish the thought. A triple-decker bus painted the most awesome shade of purple appeared with a loud bang that set off another car alarm and got the dogs started again. Scruffy stayed silent by Harry’s side.
A young man who looked like he’d probably just graduated from Hogwarts in the past couple of years poked his head out of the door and tipped his hat at the small boy standing on the curb, “Welcome to the Knight Bus. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor. It’ll be eleven sickles fer you, and six fer the oversized familiar.”
Harry blew out a breath of relief and counted out the coins from his money pouch. He would need to visit Gingotts soon. Stan hoisted Harry’s trunk into the cargo compartment and Harry hoped Dobby was ok in there. He wasn’t sure if Dobby would realize he could just pop out if he wanted to. He was probably terrified and thought it was an order to get in the trunk. He looked around the strange bus after climbing the stairs with a look of pure wonder on his face. Magic would never cease to amaze him. The space was wide and filled with metal-framed four-poster beds. Some of the beds had people sleeping in them; some had people sitting on the edge, or grasping a post and looking a little green in the face. Harry sat down on the edge of the closest bed and held on to the post, just in case. Scruffy hopped onto the bed and laid down behind Harry and gripped the hem of his jumper that was five sizes too large.
Stan closed the door, wiped his nose, and sniffed loudly before asking, “Where too, kid?”
Harry hadn’t thought he would get this far. His brain went blank. Scruffy nudged his back with his nose and whined. “Uh… The Leaky Cauldron, please.”
Stan shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the driver’s seat, “Take ‘er away, Ern!”
The beds were all thrown backward several feet as Ern stomped on the accelerator and sent them rocketing off down the road. The abnormally tall bus zipped around cars and normal buses like this was a racetrack. At one point, Harry was sure they were going to wreck when the bus was barrelling toward two lorries that were too close together for them to fit between. Instead of crashing, the bus sucked in its middle like Uncle Vernon trying to look fit and squeezed between them before shooting forward again. The ride was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Thankfully it took them less than five harrowing minutes to get from Surrey to London.
The bus screeched to a stop and let off another bang that set off a whole row of car alarms. Harry and Scruffy disembarked on shaking legs to find the Minister for Magic standing by the door to the Leaky Cauldron with the proprietor by his side. Harry ducked his head and drug his trunk behind him, praying that Dobby escaped. “I guess you’re here to arrest me, sir. I’ll come with you quietly.”