Harry had a plan to pay for his school books and other supplies. When he'd gone to Diagon Alley with Ron and his parents last summer before the start of his fourth year, he'd been dismayed to find his vault practically empty. There had been enough gold to get new robes and his potions kit, but that was all, and he'd spent the year borrowing books and school supplies from his friends. Now that the school year was over, he had three months to find a job and earn enough money to buy what he needed for his fifth year. He couldn't borrow things from Ron and Hermione's potions kits as that wasn't allowed and each kit had just enough to get a student through one year of Potions class. He needed two Galleons for that alone, which meant he needed to earn two hundred pounds. Robes would be another hundred and fifty pounds if he got used ones, and books would be about three hundred pounds if he bought them all used. Harry wasn't sure how much he'd need for parchment, quills, ink, and a new bookbag, because his old one was ripped, but any way he looked at it he needed a job. His uncle would never pay for any of those things.

He would be 15 in a few days, which meant he could find a job in the Muggle world. His plan was to apply at the swimming pool, the library, all of the takeaway places, and the two car washes in Little Whinging. He could walk to work every day if he had to, though he didn't want to. He was certain he could find a job somewhere, and now all he needed was his uncle's permission. Harry had chores to do every day, though the last two summers his uncle preferred him to be out of the house most days so he didn't cause his aunt any ‘stress'. She was stressed just by the sight of him, so he hoped his uncle would agree readily to letting him go into town to get a job.

His aunt and uncle had picked him up from the train station two days ago, and Harry had spent those two days trying to psych himself up into talking to his uncle and figuring out the right way to put his request. Feeling like he couldn't put it off any longer if he had any hopes of earning enough for school supplies by the end of the summer, Harry stared at himself in the bathroom mirror and took a deep breath before going downstairs.

Uncle Vernon was in the living room watching the telly. Aunt Petunia was out of the house getting Dudley new clothes for summer so now was the perfect time to talk to him. At least if he got throttled for asking, then Dudley wasn't there to watch and make fun of him while it was happening.

"Erm, Uncle Vernon?"

He grunted to acknowledge that he was listening. He hadn't snapped at Harry so that was a good sign that he wasn't already in a terrible mood.

"I was hoping I could get a job this summer... in town."

Vernon glanced up at him, wary. "A job? What for? If your chores aren't enough to keep you busy I can find more for you to do. The shed needs painting and the gutters need cleaning out."

Harry bit his lip. This was one of the scenarios he'd gone over in his mind for the last few days, that his uncle would deny him and just assign him more chores, but Harry had a plan for this.

"I'll pay rent."

His uncle looked back up at him, surprised. "Rent?"

"I'll pay you half of whatever my paycheck is."

The man grunted again, seeming amused. "What, a hundred dollars a couple times a month? You'll be making peanuts boy." He hadn't said no though, and seemed to be thinking, so Harry was hopeful. After a few moments Vernon said, "What do you need money for anyway? Saving up for something? If you're planning on getting a car, I won't have a piece of junk parked out in front of the house boy."

Harry looked down at his holey shoes for a few moments and then mumbled, "Clothes. School books and supplies."

"Your school pays for all of that," he said, turning back to the telly.

Harry didn't want to contradict him, and he didn't want to reveal that he had a vault at Gringotts, because it was a possibility that his uncle would be angry that Harry had had money for all these years, but he didn't see a way to lie and still convince him to let him get a job.

"They never paid for it," Harry said.

"That giant man took you to get school things, and you never asked us for money after that. Your aunt said they must be paying because you're an orphan."

"There was a little money left in my parents back account," Harry said, bracing himself for his uncle to start yelling. "It ran out last year. I didn't have enough to get books or school supplies and had to borrow from my friends all year."

He was frowning, but his face hadn't morphed into rage and turned red yet. Harry was holding his breath.

"What about your clothes boy? They didn't pay for those either?"

"I never get new clothes. My friend Ron's mum gives me his older brother's hand-me-downs."

Vernon's eyes scraped up and down Harry's body in a critical way, as though he was seeing Harry's clothes for the first time, and he scrunched up his nose like Harry was some sort of filthy animal. "You go to school like that? Wearing things your friends wore the year before?"

"I usually wear my school uniform." Harry really appreciated the clothes Mrs. Weasley gave him. She always mended them and never gave him anything that was too faded or had holes in it. They were the best clothes he had ever had. Far better than Dudley's old hand-me-downs his aunt used to make him wear before he started at Hogwarts. By the end of the school year the clothes were faded and worn though, and Harry was always in desperate need of new clothes by the end of summer again.

"Where are you going to work?" Vernon asked.

"The car wash, or the pool, or the library. Maybe takeaway."

"Peanuts," his uncle muttered. He looked Harry over again and then said, "Don't try to find a job at a restaurant. You won't make a pound. The library may pay better."

"So I can get a job then?"

"Yes. It will keep you out of your aunt's hair."

"Thank you," Harry said, relief washing over him. He turned to go back up to his room, but stopped, wondering if he should push his luck or not. "Could I get a ride to work every day?"

His uncle gave him a sharp look, telling Harry he was pushing his luck. "Just find a job first boy. I leave early enough in the morning to get into London as it is. I don't have time to drive you all over the place."

That was all Harry needed to hear. He had permission, even if it meant he did have to walk all the way into town and back each day.

The next day Harry left early in the morning before it got hot, wearing the nicest clothes he had, and went to both car wash places to ask for an application. The first one turned him down outright, but at the second one there was a teenager not much older than him that gave him an application and gave him tips on filling it out. He spent most of the day walking around town applying wherever he could, and ended at the library right before closing time.

The library had an open position as it turned out, and the librarian was helpful in giving Harry tips on going to an interview, going so far as to give Harry a mock interview. He had no idea that the person he was talking to was the one in charge of hiring.

"Well, I'd say you got yourself a job," the woman said.

"Maam?"

"You're polite, you're willing to work whatever hours we need you for, and I have faith that you'll work hard. Would you like the job?"

Harry stammered, trying to find the words to thank her. "Yes, yes maam! Thank you!"

"For now I'll have you start at noon and work until close at six."

"I start tomorrow?"

"If you would please."

Harry grinned all the way home, despite that it took him an hour to walk the distance in the heat. His aunt complained that he'd been out all day and hadn't done his chores yet, but his uncle only gave him an appraising look as he sat at the dining room table finishing his dinner and said, "Well?"

"I got hired at the library. Six pounds an hour, noon to six Monday to Friday and one to six on Sundays."

"About 700 pounds a month after taxes," his uncle said.

"350 pounds after I pay rent," Harry said. He thought he would have just enough for all the things he needed by the end of the summer if he could keep his head down and do all that was asked of him at work and home. If he fell behind on his chores he knew his aunt or uncle would make him give up his job.

His aunt stuck her nose up in the air and Dudley looked confused. "Harry's got a job?" he asked, food falling from his mouth.

"Finish your dinner Duddy darling. You don't need to worry about it," Petunia told him, trying to get the family's attention off of Harry.

Dudley frowned at his cousin and went back to his steak and kidney pie. Clearly his uncle hadn't relayed their agreement to Dudley or aunt Petunia.

Harry was about to go up to his room, not expecting anything to eat, but stopped at his uncle's words to aunt Petunia.

"Take him tomorrow to get summer clothes Pet."

"I just took Dudley to get clothing today. He has more than enough, don't you darling?"

"Take Harry."

Harry was just as surprised as aunt Petunia was, but she recovered quickly and scowled at Harry until Harry felt compelled to move for the door to the entryway and the stairs to go to his room. What was his uncle playing at? He didn't have any money to pay him yet, and wouldn't for at least two weeks. He flopped down on his bed to think about it but was interrupted by his cousin coming to his doorway a few moments later.

"What are you gonna buy?"

"Stuff for school."

"Like what?"

"Books, clothes."

"I don't know what you said to dad, but him and mum are downstairs having a row about buying you clothes tomorrow. He said something about clothes for school."

"I didn't say anything to him. I just asked if I could get a job."

Dudley shrugged and laughed. "Nice going Potter. He'll be pissed at you for sure if mum makes him sleep on the couch. You'll go to work all black and blue tomorrow."

Harry wanted to throw his cousin out of the room, but had never managed to make Dudley do anything he didn't want to do. Dudley questioned him for a few more moments, teased him about working at the library, because only nerds would work there, and finally grew bored and left on his own.

Harry waited to see if his uncle would stomp up the stairs to wallop him. It always happened at least once during the summer, usually several times, but it looked like it wasn't happening that day. His aunt was furious at him and refused to speak to him for the rest of the night, and the next morning as she drove him to the cheapest store in town. Harry had never been on a more awkward shopping trip in his life. His aunt held a few pairs of shorts up to him to see if they looked like they were the right size, furiously threw several t-shirts in random colors into the cart, and did the same with a pack of underwear and a package of black socks. She finally ended their trip by demanding Harry remove his shoes and try on a pair of cheap black velcro sandals, which also went into the cart. The total was just under a hundred and twenty pounds, and Harry wondered if that would be added to what he owed his uncle after his first paycheck.

Even if he did owe the money to his uncle, he couldn't deny that he was thankful to have new shorts, shirts and sandals to start his first day of work in. His aunt had bought the cheapest things possible, but aside from his school robes, they were the first new things he'd had in years, and he was happy with the clothes in muted colors she'd haphazardly picked out for him. Three pairs of shorts and four t-shirts were more than he could have hoped for from them, even if he was still confused about why his uncle had told her to buy him new clothes.

"Thank you," Harry hazarded when they got out of the car at home. She gave him a look, like she didn't know who he was or why he was there, and left him in the driveway. What an odd way to start the summer, he mused.

* * *

Harry loved working at the library. It was quiet and cool inside, and he was thankful to be shelving books all day instead of working outside in the hot sun. The librarian that had hired him made sure he was given a library card, and told Harry she wanted him to read one book a week, so he could give recommendations to other teens who came in. There was a ‘teen' room full of books on romance, werewolves and vampires, and other things Muggles liked to read about, and while Harry wasn't assigned solely to the teen section of the library, he spent enough time there, often arriving early to sit and read or talk to others who had come in. It was a full week after he started that his uncle surprised him a second time that summer. Harry exited the library at five minutes after six and found his uncle waiting on the street out front in the car.

"Hurry up boy!" the man shouted out the window when Harry just stood there looking dumb.

He hurried down the concrete steps and got into the front seat. "Your aunt has been complaining that you get home too late to do chores."

"Yes sir. I'll make sure to get them done."

His uncle only grunted in response as he drove off. Harry kept his eyes forward and was prepared to stay totally silent, the way his uncle liked it, for the ten minute ride home, but his uncle seemed to have other plans.

"What do your people do after they graduate?"

"Sir?"

"Is there some sort of university for your kind?"

"No sir." He worried his lip between his teeth. He'd never been allowed to talk about school before, or magic, or ‘his kind', and wasn't sure why his uncle was asking him about it now. "Some people go straight to work, others get an apprenticeship for a couple years to learn a trade."

"Is that what you're going to do?"

"I want to work for the Ministry," Harry said. "I'll get an apprenticeship with the auror office."

"The what?"

"Law enforcement."

"Does that pay well?"

Harry shrugged, but his uncle had his eyes on the road as he drove, so Harry said, "I don't know sir. I don't know too much about it yet."

Another grunt from his uncle, and Harry thought he was done asking questions, but at the next stop light he said, "What does that cost, an apprenticeship?"

"I'm not sure," he said. "A couple years worth of pay I think. It doesn't cost anything if you start before you're 17."

"Why not?"

"If you start before majority the person running the apprenticeship is in charge of you... like your parent. They have to pay for your clothes and food and keep you out of trouble."

"They house you if you start before you're 17?"

"I don't think so," Harry said, seeing the wheels turning in his uncle's mind already. Maybe he was planning on getting Harry out of the house as soon as possible.

"It might be worth it," his uncle said, turning down a side street that didn't lead back to the house. He stopped in front of a takeaway place and told Harry to stay in the car. A few minutes later he came back out with food for dinner. It wasn't uncommon for him to bring food home at least one night a week to keep aunt Petunia from having to cook, especially if it had been a hot day. Cooking in the summer always heated the house up and made his aunt feel faint.

As they drove off his uncle said, "Instead of working all summer, being someone's apprentice would mean they'd have to buy all your school things, wouldn't it?"

"The Auror's office doesn't take apprentices until they graduate school though."

"What about other things? What other things do they do this sort of thing for?"

Harry shrugged again. "Herbology, I think, and Potions I guess. Botany and chemistry," Harry added for his uncle before he had to ask. The conversation had been civil so far, something Harry wasn't used to with his family, and he didn't want to push his uncle over the edge by using too many terms from the wizarding world.

"I assume you need good grades to get into those programs?"

"Yes sir." Hermione had gone on and on about Harry and Ron needing to push hard to get good grades in their last few years of school if they had any hope of joining the Aurory.

"And do you have good grades?"

Harry stared open mouthed at his uncle as they neared their neighborhood. His uncle had never cared to know these things before, or to know anything about school at all. "Mostly sir."

"Mostly?"

"I don't have good grades in Potions. Chemistry," he corrected himself again.

"Seems to me like having an apprenticeship now in that would help raise your grades then, wouldn't it? Help you get into law enforcement later, after school."

Harry really didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't sure if it was because he was still shocked to be talking to his uncle about this at all, or if it was because his uncle had a point. He could get his needs taken care of if he had an apprenticeship, and if he had one in Potions, he might raise his grade in class. The low grade wasn't always his fault, he reminded himself though. Sometimes Snape was just an arse and would mark his papers up in red just to have a laugh, or at least that was what Harry always told himself.

As they turned the corner past the park down the street from their house, Harry said nervously, "Erm... uncle Vernon?"

"What?"

"I'm not trying to be... difficult, or anything. I was just wondering, why you wanted to know... about school, I mean, now."

His uncle pulled into the driveway in front of the house and turned off the car, before turning to look at him. "You're getting to be a man now... fifteen. You only have three years left of school. You need something to do after... a job, so you can get your own place, start your life. Otherwise you'll be hanging around here, being a burden on your aunt. That means you need to start getting things together. Start making a plan and doing what you need to do so you don't end up living here until you're in your twenties. Get your grades up, get an apprenticeship, or whatever it is you need to do."

He didn't yell at Harry for staring at him slack jawed. Instead he got out of the car and took the takeaway inside, leaving Harry in the car by himself. Had his uncle just tried to give him advice? It was self-serving... he wanted Harry out of the house as soon as possible, but it was almost... decent. He was almost decent to Harry.

There was a small portion of food waiting on the table for Harry when he got inside. He scarfed it down and got started on his chores, which included going out back to mow the lawn and weed the garden before it was too dark. His uncle was watching news on the telly when he got inside just before dark, and his aunt was in the kitchen talking to Dudley about some girl he liked at school.

"Find out how to get an apprenticeship early," his uncle said.

Harry stopped behind the couch on his way to the kitchen to wash his hands, silent for long moments.

"Yes sir." He continued on his way and his uncle didn't say anything else about it to him over the next few weeks. Life fell back into a normal routine, though his uncle was now picking him up from work on weekdays. His aunt acted like nothing had happened at all earlier in the summer when she'd grown angry with him about having to buy him clothes, and Dudley ignored Harry for the most part, which Harry preferred. Harry could have no idea that as he gave his uncle half of his first month's paycheck a couple weeks later, that life at Privet Drive was about to be turned on its head completely, not for Harry, but for his aunt and cousin.

* * *

While Harry worked at the library Monday morning, Vernon was having an interesting day at work at Grunnings. He was high up enough in the company that he enjoyed a healthy paycheck and enough time off each year to take his family on vacation over Christmas holidays. He'd worked his way up this high by hard work and doing whatever he could to impress whoever was the next highest person above him. Currently, the next highest person above him was the vice president, who ran most operations at the company, as the president lived out of country and was rarely ever seen in person.

Vernon was always quick to volunteer to take care of whatever vital operations needed seeing to if it was the vice president asking. He made sure he looked sharp every day, paid compliments to the vice president whenever he passed him in the halls, and laughed at all his jokes during board meetings. He didn't know if he could climb higher in the company, but if ever the vice president moved up, Vernon wanted to be brought up with him. This meant that when William Harris came into the office Monday morning with a spring in his step and a smile on his face, Vernon made it a point to ask how his weekend had gone.

"My weekend? Oh, yes, lovely. We took a drive out into the country and then when we got home last night we received wonderful news."

"Have you come into some family money?" Vernon asked. Unexpected windfalls of money were always wonderful news in Vernon's book.

"Money? No, no, nothing like that. My little Arla was just accepted at a prestigious boarding school! Her mother and I are so proud!"

"Congratulations sir," Vernon said. "We were so pleased when Dudley got into Smeltings. What school will she be going to?"

"Ah, yes," William said, suddenly seeming put on the spot. It was so unlike him to look... caught, at something, that Vernon took note. "A school way in the north of Scotland. We'll be sad to have her off to school for so many months of the year," he said, quickly trying to change the subject, "but she's terribly excited you see."

"Scotland you say?" Vernon asked. He couldn't think of any boarding schools in Northern Scotland aside from the boy's school... a school he wasn't supposed to say anything about. Some sort of contract for secrecy he and Petunia had been made to sign after Potter had gotten his letter.

"Yes," William said, still looking uncomfortable.

"Been trying to get in for long?" Vernon asked.

"Actually we didn't have to apply," he said. "She was invited."

Vernon couldn't believe his ears. He knew a lot of people... had prided himself on keeping in touch with all of his old friends from his own days at University and even at Smeltings, yet he'd never known anyone to go to Hogwarts aside from the boy. What if he threw out a similar name just to see how William reacted? That wouldn't be breaking any secrecy contracts.

"Hog-something, isn't it?" Vernon asked.

"Excuse me?" William turned from where he'd been making himself busy making a cup of coffee with far too many sugars in it.

"The name of the school in Scotland," Vernon said, and William met his eyes, searching them as much as Vernon was trying to read William's body language. "Hog-something," Vernon said again.

William looked stunned, and Vernon was pleased he'd impressed the man with his knowledge. He lived for the moments when he could be the most knowledgeable about a subject at work. It meant he had a leg up on his competition. "You know about Hogwarts?" William asked, barely above a whisper in case anyone else passed by the coffee room.

Vernon stuck his chest out and said with a measure of pride (not in Harry, but in his knowledge of the subject), "My nephew attends."

"The nephew that lives with you? I thought he went to state school."

"Yes, that one. We have to tell people he attends the local secondary school. He only has a few years left at school now."

"That's amazing! Can you imagine! What are the odds of my little Arla going to the same school? To magic school!" He whispered the word magic. "Dursley, you'll have to tell me all about it. We have so many questions! For instance, where is this Diagon Alley place we're supposed to buy her supplies at? How do we get onto this hidden platform to see her off at the train station in September? What is the school like?"

"Perhaps we can have dinner together," Vernon suggested. "You, your wife and little Arla. You can ask my nephew all the questions you'd like."

"What a wonderful idea! Just wonderful! That will be so helpful! They told us we could write back with questions, but that we'd have to send it to some strange address and it would take a lot of time to respond."

"They use owls to send letters," Vernon said.

"Yes, they sent her acceptance letter with one!"

"They sent hundreds to our house," Vernon said, giving a big laugh as though it had all been in good fun, and ignoring the stress it had caused Petunia and Dudley, and how angry it had made him at the time.

"Hundreds? Tell me all about it!"

When Vernon got home that evening and told Petunia his boss and his family were coming to dinner the next night, Petunia thought nothing of it. Vernon often invited important co-workers or clients to dinner. Sometimes they went out to a fancy restaurant, sometimes they had them over to the house, though not in the summer anymore while Harry was home from school. Not since the floating pudding.

"Yes dear, of course, but what about the boy? Shall we send him to Arabella's house for the evening?"

"The boy stays. The vice president's daughter is going to the boy's school in the fall. They're coming to dinner to ask him questions."

Petunia paled, and from the hallway where Harry was putting a broom in his old bedroom under the stairs, he froze and his insides chilled. What had his uncle just said?

"The boy?" Petunia asked for confirmation, voice shaky. "Wait, their daughter is going to Smeltings you mean and they want to ask Dudley questions?"

"The other one," he said. "They want to ask about Hogwarts."

"Don't say the name!" she screeched, startling both Harry and Vernon.

He looked at her and then went over to hug her, trying to calm her down. "It's important we make a good impression on them Pet. When he moves up to president, hopefully next year, I want his position. I need him to like me. Imagine the pay if I become vice president darling. We could send Dudley to Uni without emptying the savings and I could retire in a few years. We could buy a house anywhere we wanted... we could go on two vacations a year."

"Harry!" she shouted, and Harry poked his head into the dining room from the entryway where he'd been listening.

"You're to be on your best behavior tomorrow. You're to answer their every question politely and respectfully. And NO flying puddings!"

"Yes aunt Petunia," he said. She swept past him, angry at him for a second time that summer, and left him alone with his uncle.

They stared at each other. "Don't stress your aunt out tomorrow," he said. "She's got a big dinner to plan."

"Yes sir."

He seemed in a good mood as he moved into the living room to watch the news, and Harry heard a thump upstairs followed by Dudley shouting, "What!?"

He followed his uncle into the living room and said, "Uncle Vernon? Can I start getting a ride to work every morning too?" It was always best to ask his uncle when he was in a good mood, and this was the first time he'd ever felt like his uncle was in a good mood because of him.

* * *

Uncle Vernon did give him a ride to work at the library the next morning, and questioned him all the way there. Harry supposed it was because he just wanted to sound knowledgeable at the big dinner later that night. Uncle Vernon always did research about clients he was taking out for dinner, and often quizzed his aunt and cousin on things to make sure they were knowledgeable too.

"What's that sport they play in your world? The one with a broom?"

Harry was surprised his uncle even knew there was a sport involving brooms. He knew Harry had a broom, but his uncle never asked about it and Harry generally wasn't allowed to talk about things involving magic.

"Quidditch. I play for my house team."

"Seems like an awfully funny name for a sport if you ask me," Vernon said, repeating the name out loud a few times, trying to wrap his tongue around the foreign word.

"Explain it to me."

Harry felt odd talking to his uncle about the seven players, three balls, multiple hoops and golden Snitch, but was glad enough to be getting a ride to work that he didn't care. It meant he'd get there early and have extra time to read and hang out with the librarian that hired him. He enjoyed talking to her.

"And what position do you play?"

"Seeker."

"That's the one that gets the little golden ball? Didn't you say that was the star player on the team?"

"Yes. If the Seeker catches the Snitch they get 150 points for their team and the game is over."

His uncle took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at Harry and said, "You seem small for sports."

‘I seem small for someone who doesn't get to eat a whole lot of food three months out of the year,' Harry thought to himself, but pushed the thought aside and said instead, "It's not about muscles, it's about skills, and speed, and outwitting the other players. The Seeker can't catch the Snitch until their team is up by the right number of points to ensure a win."

His uncle seemed satisfied with his answers as he dropped Harry at the library, though Harry was unsurprised when his uncle asked him to repeat all the new words to him later that day when he picked him up at six. Dinner was at seven and they had to get home to get ready.

"Quidditch," Harry repeated. "The Seeker catches the golden Snitch. The Chasers pass the red Quaffle and score points through hoops. The Beaters use Beater's bats and bat two black balls called Bludgers and try to knock opposing players off their brooms."

"Sounds dangerous."

"It is."

"Have you ever fallen off your broom?"

"I was knocked off by a Bludger once and broke my arm."

"Huh." He grunted in response, and Harry supposed it was an acknowledgement that he'd been hurt, though Harry imagined it was what his uncle sounded like when he was impressed. His family had never been impressed with anything he'd done. He was sure they still weren't, but he could try to pretend all the same.

Petunia still wasn't talking to Harry when they got home. His uncle told him to take a quick shower and change into some of the nicer clothes his aunt had bought him. Harry was in and out of the shower in five minutes, and nervously awaiting the arrival of his uncle's guests. He couldn't screw this up. He'd never been allowed to one of these ‘impress people from work' dinners before, and felt like after the pudding incident if he screwed this up he'd be thrown out onto the street before the end of the night. Images of aunt Marge floating away over the back garden also popped into his mind followed by him sitting on the curb in the dark after his uncle had chased him from the house before his third year.

"Set this on the table," his aunt snapped at him just as there was a knock on the door. The change in his aunt as she went to open the door was enough to give Harry whiplash. She'd set aside the bitterness and stress in her voice with Harry and become a gracious host welcoming her guests into her home.

"Mr. and Mrs. Harris, won't you please come in. We're so happy to see you," she said warmly. "And you must be little Arla. Welcome." Harry's gut churned with too many emotions at once. Too many for him to try to sort through. What he wouldn't have given for her to greet him like that even once when returning from school, or from a day at work at the library. She rarely spoke to him these days. It was all fake. He knew it was. She hated magic and couldn't stand to have this little girl in her house, but at least she pretended for them. She never pretended for him.

"William, good to see you," his uncle said, coming down the stairs, fresh out of the shower himself. He'd had a quick shave and changed into a suit. "You've met my lovely wife I see. This is my son Dudley."

"Dudley," the man said. "I've heard so much about you."

"My nephew is around here somewhere," Vernon said. "Why don't you come into the parlor and we can talk until dinner's ready."

"Five minutes," Petunia said. "I'm just pulling the roast out now." She disappeared into the kitchen and shooed Harry away towards the living room, unable to even look at him.

Harry suddenly found himself in the living room and wondered how his aunt had managed to put on such a good show. He was nervous and uncertain he could be such a gracious host. Dudley had had lots of practice at this sort of thing, but Harry had never been allowed to participate or to have guests of his own over before.

"Here he is," Vernon said. "William, Tabitha, Arla, this is our nephew, Harry Potter."

"Harry," William said, holding out his hand. His smile at least seemed genuine. Harry hoped he was happy for his daughter and not bitter like Aunt Petunia. "Nice to meet you. Arla's been thinking up questions for you all day."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said, shaking the man's hand. "And you," he said, holding out his hand to Mrs. Harris, and then to Arla.

"We were so surprised to find out she had magic," Mrs. Harris said, sitting on the sofa next to her husband and daughter. Uncle Vernon was in his chair, and for once Harry was invited to sit in the other comfortable chair, the one Petunia usually sat on when not using the sofa.

"I was surprised too," Harry said.

"Vernon said your mother was magic?" William asked.

"Both of my parents were. They died when I was a baby."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mrs. Harris said. "I'm glad you found a nice home to grow up in though!"

"Yes," Harry said, throat growing tight. He couldn't disagree with them openly. Everything seemed to be riding on this night, including his ability to stay for the rest of the summer... and in future summers.

"So tell us about Hogwarts Harry," William said. "The letter didn't say too much about the school itself other than that it was very old and prestigious."

"It's up in the mountains of Scotland. It's a massive castle overlooking sprawling grounds and a big lake. There's forests around three sides, and a magical village nearby that's close enough to walk to."

"It sounds very pretty," Mrs. Harris said.

"It's really nice." Now that they were talking about Hogwarts, Harry was able to pretend his relatives weren't there and that they weren't openly talking about magic in their home. Instead he focused on the conversation and how open these people seemed to be about hearing his experiences. The more he talked about it the less he felt like he had to put on a show like his aunt, and the more he just relaxed.

"The letter said I'd be living in a house," Arla said, speaking for the first time that evening. "How can that be if I'm living in a castle?"

"There are four houses at Hogwarts. Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin. It's a group of kids you'll spend all seven school years with. They each stay in a different part of the castle and have their own teacher that watches out for them all year. Each house values different traits. When you ride the train to school a bunch of the first years every year try to convince each other there's some sort of test to get into one of the houses. Don't believe them. They always try to say you have to fight a dragon, or a troll, but it's not true. You put on a magic hat and it decides which house you fit best with."

"Dragons and trolls aren't real, are they?" Arla asked, eyes wide.

"Sure they are, but there aren't any at the school. Not normally anyway."

"What house are you in? What are the traits?" William asked.

"I'm in Gryffindor. Gryffindor values loyalty and bravery and Gryffindors live in Gryffindor tower. It's got a view from the tower of the front grounds and a little of the Black Lake. There's Slytherin, they live in the Dungeons, and value cunning and are very direct. I heard a lot of businessmen and women come out of Slytherin. Hufflepuff lives under the Great Hall, they value honesty and friendliness. They're very open to everyone and willing to give everyone a chance. Last there's Ravenclaw. They live in Ravenclaw tower and value intelligence and studying. A lot of studying. All of the houses sort of value all of those things and more, but the things I mentioned are what each house values the most, so when you get sorted into a house you know you're going into a group of people that's already a lot like you. Your house is like your family but at school."

"Dinner's ready," Aunt Petunia said quietly from behind them. For that brief moment she'd dropped her act and sounded sad almost. It had startled Harry because he'd let the room melt away from him and this was his reminder of where he really was. In the next moment, her gracious tone had come back though. "Everything is ready and looks absolutely delicious! Please come and have a seat in the dining room!"

Harry waited until they had all gone through to the dining room to follow. His uncle passed him and slapped him on the back. "Fine work, just fine," he said. A leaf had been added to the table to make room for their guests, and Harry ended up seated next to his uncle who was at the head of the table. Usually this spot was reserved for Dudley when they had guests like aunt Marge.

Harry for once was served a healthy portion of roast, potatoes, and vegetables. He had an equal portion to everyone else. As he ate their guests asked him questions and he did his best to answer. He told them about the various classes, extracurricular activities, and some of the school's history. Uncle Vernon proudly told William about Quidditch, and got all of the names almost right, and ended with, "Harry is the star player of his team. If he catches the Snitch the game ends and his team gets enough points to win the game." It wasn't quite true by his description of it, but close enough. Their guests seemed thoroughly impressed with Harry at least, which seemed to be his uncle's goal this evening.

Aunt Petunia served cobbler, and Harry was only happy that it wasn't floating above their guests heads. He'd double checked in his room after his shower to be certain Dobby wasn't lurking in the wardrobe or under the bed waiting to get him in trouble again.

"Now what about this alley we need to get supplies in," William asked. "It said it's in London, but the instructions weren't quite clear. I drove by the address twice and couldn't see it."

"It's invisible to Muggles. Non-magic folk sir," Harry clarified. "If you go with Arla she'll be able to see it and take you in. You have to go through the Leaky Cauldron, it's a pub with an inn above it. In the back of the pub there's a brick wall. Her letter should have included instructions. The pub owner or someone else will have to tap it with their wand to let you in the first time until Arla has her wand."

"It all seems so complicated," Mrs. Harris said. Harry could see out of the corner of his eye, his aunt shaking her head with her eyes closed, hand over her mouth. She knew what was coming like Harry did before his uncle spoke.

"Well you can go with us when we go to get Harry's things," Vernon said. Dudley dropped his fork in surprise and it clattered loudly onto his plate, and then off the side and onto the floor.

"Sorry about that. So clumsy," Dudley said, picking the fork up and putting it back on the table.

"I'll get you another one," Petunia said, rising to leave the dining room, though once she was gone she didn't come back for several minutes.

Harry for his part, didn't know what to say. His family had never been to Diagonalley. He always went with his friends. He didn't have a definite date set yet, but his uncle already seemed to be ahead of him.

"We can go this weekend if you want."

"Oh could we daddy? Please?" Arla asked tugging gently on his sleeve.

"Of course darling, what a generous offer," he said, turning to Vernon. "That is, if it wouldn't be too much trouble." Then he turned to Harry. "How much money will all of this cost?"

"About a thousand pounds," Harry said after long moments, finding his voice again. "It doesn't cost that much every year, but because it's her first year she'll need a cauldron, dragon hide gloves, and a wand. Those add up fast."

"Those were on my supply list," she said.

"You can buy pets there too... owls and the like," Harry said, "and they can be costly because you have to get all the equipment and food and things you need to take care of them too. You might also want to pick up a few extra books while you're there. There's one my friend Hermione would kick me for not telling you about. It's called Hogwarts: A History and it will tell you everything you want to know about the castle. She had it memorized practically before our first year started."

"Is she from a magical family too?" Mrs. Harris asked.

"No maam, she's Muggleborn. She's the brightest witch in our year... maybe even in the whole school. Everyone says she should have been in Ravenclaw, but she's in Gryffindor instead. She's top of our class in almost everything."

"Almost?" William asked.

"I'm top of our class in Defense," Harry said proudly. Hermione studied hard in Defense, and she was wicked hard to beat in a duel, but nothing could beat the experience Harry had in fighting for his life year after year. Defense and Quidditch were the only things he was really good at.

"Harry's thinking about an apprenticeship with the Ministry of Magic," Vernon said, taking the chance to show his knowledge again, "In law enforcement. But he may take an apprenticeship sooner in another subject. Isn't that right Harry?"

Harry gave his uncle a look, and then looked down at his plate. "Yes sir." In all the excitement and nervousness over their guests, Harry had nearly forgotten about that. He kept hoping his uncle would forget about it.

They stayed until almost ten pm that evening asking Harry questions, and when they left, Harry was surprised to find that Dudley had been listening as raptly as Arla had. It was all things he'd never been allowed to hear before, and he'd been so silent throughout the night Harry had forgotten he was there. It was the strangest night he'd ever had at Four Privet Drive, and that included the night he'd escaped from his bedroom in a flying car and the time hundreds of letters had come in through the chimney. It even beat out the night with the flying pudding.