Ever since returning to the Dursleys' for the summer, Harry felt like his insides were twisted into knots, not a single day passing with any sense of ease.
The moment he got home, Uncle Vernon locked away all his Hogwarts belongings in the cupboard under the stairs. His textbooks, wand, robes, cauldron, and even his brand-new Nimbus 2000—everything was stuffed into that tiny space. It used to be his bedroom, his cage. Now it was a prison for his possessions.
As for Harry himself, he'd been moved to a new kind of captivity: Dudley's old second-floor bedroom. The door could be locked from the outside, and the window was fitted with thin wire mesh. Hedwig was in a constant foul mood, screeching and scratching at the walls because the cramped room gave her no space to move.
The Dursleys, of course, didn't care.
Harry had been hoping for letters from his friends—Ron, Hermione, Edward, even a snarky note from Malfoy would've been something! But nothing came. It was as if all of Hogwarts had forgotten him, as if the entire wizarding world was just a dream.
And it was all because of a house-elf named Dobby, who'd been intercepting his mail!
It was another typical day, locked in his dark, stuffy room, going nowhere, when some commotion stirred downstairs. Normally, he was allowed to wander the house, but a few days ago, he'd landed in trouble. Dobby, claiming Harry couldn't return to Hogwarts because of some terrible danger, had ruined everything. Right in front of him, the elf had blown up Aunt Petunia's prized pudding, made specially for the Masons, Vernon's important clients.
That earned Harry a warning letter from the Ministry of Magic.
But today's noise sounded different—like there were several people downstairs, and two of them seemed to be heading his way.
Then, Harry heard a voice he never would've dreamed of.
"Harry, step back. Get away from the door."
It was Edward.
"Edward! Is that really you? I'm not dreaming, am I?"
"Potter, don't be an idiot. Didn't you hear him tell you to move?" came another, drawling voice.
"Malfoy?!"
Harry was now convinced this couldn't be a dream. There was no way he'd imagine Draco Malfoy standing at his bedroom door.
He quickly backed away.
Bang!
With a loud crash, Edward punched the door open.
"Edward! Malfoy! It's really you!"
Harry, dressed in ill-fitting clothes, collapsed onto his bed, staring in disbelief at the two figures in the doorway. Under the glow of the incandescent light, they looked like divine saviors. "How did you get here?" he asked, barely containing his excitement.
"I didn't get a reply to my letters, so I thought I'd come check on you," Edward said.
"Pfft, the great Harry Potter, living in a place like this?" Malfoy stepped into the dingy, dark room, taking it all in.
There wasn't much to see: a bed, a rickety chest of drawers, and a peeling wardrobe. On the chest sat a chipped bowl with some watery vegetable soup, so plain it barely looked seasoned. The only bit of vegetable in it was probably in Hedwig's dish by her cage.
Malfoy's lip twitched.
A year ago, he would've laughed himself silly knowing Harry Potter lived like this, mocking the "Savior" for his grit in surviving such a place. But now? He just felt sorry for him. Malfoy couldn't imagine growing up in this kind of environment, treated like this. He might've jumped off the Tower Bridge to escape it.
"It's not so bad," Harry muttered. "Before last year, I slept in the cupboard under the stairs—you know, the one you saw."
Malfoy's face flickered with shock, then twisted into something venomous. "Now I get why my dad hates Muggles so much. They deserve to pay for this," he said darkly.
"Don't say that, Malfoy. There are bad wizards, bad Muggles, and good Muggles too," Harry said with a wry smile.
"We'll deal with that later," Edward said, frowning as he looked into Harry's green eyes. "Right now, I've got one question: do you want to grab your stuff and come stay at my place for the summer?"
Harry's dull gaze lit up instantly. "Yes! Absolutely! Are we leaving now?"
No hesitation. He'd rather spend the summer in Snape's dungeon detention than stay here another minute.
"Let's go, then. This place makes me sick," Malfoy said, striding toward the stairs without looking back.
"Wait up!" Harry called, then froze. "Oh, shoot—Hedwig!"
He turned to grab her cage, only to see Edward already holding it.
But as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Vernon's bulky frame blocked the way.
"You're not going anywhere, boy! You or your freak friends!" Vernon bellowed.
"You don't get to tell me where I can go! You're not my parents!" Harry shouted, trembling with rage.
Standing with Edward, Malfoy, Daphne, and Pansy—who'd appeared downstairs—Harry suddenly felt a surge of courage from his friends. If his wand wasn't locked in the cupboard, he might've hexed Vernon on the spot.
"Mr. Dursley," Edward said icily, "I should warn you that what you've done—locking Harry in that room and his belongings in the cupboard—violates several laws, including the Children's Act, the Care Act, and more. One phone call, and plenty of people would be happy to look into this, don't you think?"
Harry barely recognized Edward's voice—it was colder than he'd ever heard, even when Edward had faced off with Malfoy in their early days.
Vernon's face went from purple to deathly pale. "H-how do you know—"
"My parents have always been friendly toward Muggles," Edward continued, "but if they knew people like you existed, they might change their tune. My mum's quite good with hexes and curses, you know." He raised his sword, green magic coiling around it like a snake ready to strike.
Vernon's legs buckled, and he collapsed, leaving the staircase clear.
"So, how do we get this door open? They must have a key, right?" Daphne said, glancing at Vernon, sprawled on the floor, and Petunia, peeking through a crack in the door.
She meant the cupboard door.
"No need for magic. I've got this. Stand back," Edward said.
He grabbed the handle and twisted it hard. With a snap, the sturdy, new-looking lock came clean off the door.
The Dursleys gasped, barely daring to breathe. It brought back bad memories—of a giant wizard who'd torn their door off its hinges, tied Vernon's shotgun in a knot, and given Dudley a pig's tail. They'd spent a fortune getting that tail removed before Dudley's school term.
Dudley hadn't touched a cake for months after that, ever since his sneaky snacking had triggered the fiasco.
Harry hurriedly stuffed his things into his trunk. It looked small but was charmed with an Undetectable Extension Charm, big enough to hold even his broomstick.
The Dursleys watched, trembling, as Harry and his four friends marched out the door.
"Oh, one last thing," Edward said, turning back. "A verbal warning for how you've treated Harry isn't enough. You need something to remind you every day."
The Dursleys, thinking they were in the clear, froze in panic.
"Y-you can't! That letter said you're not allowed to use magic outside school!" Petunia squeaked, her voice shrill.
Daphne and Pansy covered their ears, clearly unimpressed.
"As Draco said, there are always loopholes," Edward replied.
Harry felt like he'd downed a Cheering Charm potion. All these years, he'd dreamed of seeing the Dursleys put in their place, and now it was happening!
But his rational side kicked in. As much as he loathed them, he didn't want Edward getting in trouble. "Edward, maybe let it go? They've learned their lesson, haven't they?" he said, tugging at Edward's sleeve.
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