Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It happened the night before Violet's birthday. 

They were eating dinner, she and her parents, when suddenly, Indigena stiffened and her fork clattered to her plate. She clutched at her arm, and her eyes met Evan's in shock. 

He smiled. "Finally!" He breathed in awed happiness. He stood. 

"Violet–"

"Go, let me know how it went when you get back. I'll wash up." She said, still eating, unconcerned. 

Indigena and Evan grabbed their masks and robes, dressing as they dashed out the door. 

Violet listened to the 'pop's of them Apparating away and sighed. "Alright, what do you want now?" 

"Do you want to be there, Mistress?" Death asked, coming out of her bedroom silently. 

"I don't. I'm not old enough, anyway, and he'd be upset if I blew his little game early. Let me be his little secret a few years longer. I'm not awe-inspiring enough to get the right response yet." She replied, finishing her dinner and gathering plates up. 

"I see." 

Violet laughed. "You don't understand, but you've been a primordial force so long you've lost touch with what it is to be a child . I don't blame you. I have to wait for my time. I'm told it will be worth it when I get what's waiting for me at the end of the road. And I'm patient, for certain things." 

Death sat down at the table. "But you long to be included." He noted. 

Violet sighed as she set plates in the sink and pulled out the elder wand. "It's hard sometimes." She admitted softly. "I know so much, have all this power, and I'm severely limited by my age–and sometimes my gender, too–in what I can do and how I can use it. I can't scare people off, because I may need them someday, so I tone down what powers I possess and I back off when told–or when I feel I'm coming on a bit too strong. I'm so intelligent I worry the adults around me, too perceptive to be completely comfortable to the others my own age, and sadly, it leaves me lonely." Her face crumpled and her lip trembled. "I just want my brother." She stated, voice quavering with sadness. "He's the only one that can understand, and due to the way he's been raised, even he is beyond my reach. It's not fair, and it's not right !" One of the plates cracked down the centre, and she sighed and repaired it. "Why is my life so hard to navigate?" 

Death came up behind her and explained, "It is the nature of being my Master or Mistress, I'm afraid. You are given the trials necessary to prove you can withstand the power bestowed upon you. But you can rise up and meet each one, I have seen the resilience you possess, you have what it takes!" He enthused. 

"And my brother?" 

Death hesitated. "Will need your help to reach his full potential." He admitted. 

Violet sighed. "Shall I write him?" She asked. 

"I believe that would be best." Death told her. 

"There's still a month before school. Perhaps I can get through to him without others in the way now." She mused. 

*****

Harry was miserable. He knew he'd seen eyes peeking out at him from the hedge he was currently clipping, but Dudley had come along and taunted him about it being his birthday, and the fact that no one had remembered. 

Not Petunia, not Vernon, and not his own so-called friends . 

He hadn't expected gifts , per se, but maybe a card? Perhaps just one simple letter since the end of the year wouldn't have been too much to ask? But there had been nothing, nothing at all.

He would have been happy if anyone had thought to contact him at all.  

But no one had. 

Add to that the fact that Hedwig was locked in her cage, and he had no way to contact anyone else, and his summer was a big letdown, not that he had expected anything else. All in all, it was a bad summer. His only consolation was that the Dursleys were so afraid of his magic that they were mostly leaving him alone, and thankfully, he still had his wand. If they had taken even that from him, he had no idea what he would have done. His wand was the one thing anchoring him to the magical world, the one thing that set him apart as different . Special. More than . 

But here he was, still doing chores for his horrible Muggle relatives, reduced to a servant for the rest of his summer, until he could go back to Hogwarts, where he felt welcomed and appreciated for who he was. Loved, in a way. Admired, in many others. He was welcomed there, and his heart longed to go back sooner. But he had to wait.  

He finished his chores and went inside, mindful to step only on the newspaper, as Aunt Petunia instructed, and she handed him a plate with the end pieces of a loaf of bread on them. He ate it, wishing there had been some protein to go with it, and was sent upstairs so the Masons wouldn't see him and ruin the image of a perfect, happy family they wished to present to them, in order for Vernon to make his large sale of drills. 

He went into his room and was about to collapse onto his bed when he realized there was already somebody on it. The creature was almost as tall as Harry, stunted as his growth was, and he was just as thin. He had large, bulbous eyes that Harry recognized as the ones he'd seen in the bush earlier that day, and he was wearing what appeared to be a dirty pillowcase. 

"Hello, who are you?" Harry asked. 

The creature got off the bed and sank into a graceful bow. "I am Dobby, Harry Potter Sir." 

"Hello, Dobby." Harry sat on his now vacated bed and patted the spot next to him. "Won't you have a seat?" 

Dobby burst into loud sobs, and Harry quickly shushed him. "Ssh, my relatives can't know you're here. They don't like magic, and I'm guessing you're magical, aren't you?"

Dobby calmed somewhat and replied, "Dobby has never been asked to sit before by a wizard–like an equal !" His tone was worshipful and made Harry distinctly uncomfortable.

"Well, then you can't have met many decent wizards, have you?" Harry asked. 

Dobby shook his head, then looked horrified at his slip. He began glancing around Harry's room until his eyes landed on the lamp. He took it in both hands and began bashing himself in the head with it, emitting loud, sharp cries with each blow. 

"Dobby, stop it , what are you doing?!" Harry wrestled the lamp out of his hands and Dobby subsided, looking vaguely cross-eyed. 

"Dobby almost spoke ill of his family–the wizard family Dobby serves. Dobby had to punish himself."

"What are you, anyway? Some kind of servant?" Harry asked.

"Dobby is a house-elf. Dobby is sworn to serve one family until he is either freed or dies." 

"Oh. I get it now." Harry said lamely, feeling sorry for the poor creature.

"Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter–Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts! There is a plot, Sir, a plot to make most horrible things happen at Hogwarts this year!" 

"What?! I have to go back, you don't understand! My relatives hate me, Hogwarts is my home . It's the only place I've got friends ! Well, I thought I had friends." Harry added the last in a mumble. His friends had ignored him, but he still felt a sense of loyalty toward them.

"Friends who do not even write to Harry Potter?" Dobby asked slyly. 

"I imagine they've been busy…" Harry cottoned on and trailed off suspiciously. "Wait a minute, you've been intercepting my mail, haven't you?"

"Harry Potter Sir must not be mad at Dobby." The elf said as he pulled out a stack of letters. "Dobby did it for Harry Potter's own good!"

Harry recognized Hermione's neat and tidy script, Ron's shoddy penmanship, and even Hagrid's messy scrawl on the letters. 

"Dobby…" Harry took a step forward. "I promise I'll only strangle you a little bit if you give me those letters right now !" He lunged at the elf who dodged his grip and ran down the stairs. 

Harry's heart jumped into his throat with alarm as he followed quickly. 

Harry got to the foot of the stairs to find Dobby in the kitchen staring at the pudding Aunt Petunia had painstakingly made (since Harry was out doing yard work and couldn't do that and cook, and she wanted the yard presentable, so she had cooked instead). He mutely shook his head, eyes pleading with Dobby. 

"You don't understand!" He whispered urgently. "Uncle Vernon, he's not a nice man! He'll kill me , probably literally!" 

Dobby just stared unflinchingly back, and Harry got the distinct impression that the elf, like Dumbledore, thought he was overreacting. Exaggerating. 

But he knew he wasn't . 

Dobby raised a hand. "Harry Potter must say he's not going back to Hogwarts." 

Harry felt tears pricking his eyes, born of desperation. "Dobby, I can't !" He softly croaked. 

"Then Dobby must do it." The elf said, and Harry world began to crumble around him. "For Harry Potter's own good." 

Dobby snapped his fingers, and the pudding began to float its way out to the sitting room as the elf became invisible. 

Harry could feel his world ending as he followed the cake, desperately trying to figure out how he'd stop it from becoming the end of his world as he knew it. 

The cake floated over to hover above Mrs. Mason, and Petunia and Vernon watched in horror. Harry was just about to grab it, to what end he didn't know, when he heard a snap , and the cake fell, splattering all over her head and dress. 

Harry felt himself die a little bit inside, knowing that his twelfth birthday had just gotten a hundred times worse. 

Vernon's face purpled with rage and he stuttered out, "That's my nephew, he's very troubled. Meeting strangers upsets him, we tried to keep him in his room tonight to avoid this." He turned his eyes on Harry. "Boy, get back upstairs , I'll deal with you in a bit!" 

Harry went back upstairs as the Masons left and was called back down about fifteen minutes later. 

"Explain yourself!" Vernon barked out. 

"I didn't do it!" Harry defended himself. 

"Then who did?" Vernon demanded sarcastically. 

Just then, an owl flew through the open window, dropping a letter on the coffee table. It animated and flew up to speak in a crisp voice. 

"Dear Mr Potter,

We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine.

As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).

We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offence under section 13 of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.

Enjoy your holidays! Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic"

Harry's heart sank drastically. 

Vernon's grin was malicious. "Not allowed to use magic out of school, eh?" He sneered. "Go upstairs, I'll be up shortly." 

Harry went up the stairs, heart heavy and steps slow and silent. 

He sat on his bed and waited for his doom. 

After only a few minutes, Vernon came into the room. "You cost me a big deal, Freak." He said. "I think you've earned a special punishment." 

"Uncle Vernon, no, please!" Harry begged. 

"Please?" Vernon asked as he pulled off his belt. "Oh, you really want it, don't you? I'll give it to you, Boy." He dropped his trousers and pants to the floor. "Lie down." 

Harry laid facedown on the bed, and steeled himself against his fate.

This had been the worst birthday ever.

Chapter Text

I've been watching JK (Lady Voldemort) the past few months, and I've decided I no longer feel safe, welcomed, or even clean playing in her now-tainted sandbox, so I'm stepping away from the pit of poison and making my own box. There will be queer representation around every corner, of all kinds, there will be social commentary done the fun way as you’ve come to expect from me, there will be humor and profanity and, of course, hot and steamy (and usually kinky) sex!

So if you want to keep reading, just pop over to my new original and get a look at what I'm doing now! Once I have enough people on board, I aim to make giving you quality queer writing my day job! And for those of you who have been with me in the distant past, you already know that when I have nothing but enthusiasm and free time, I can churn out up to 4 chapters a day on my best ones!

Join me and we'll form an army of our own to fill the world with gay (both happy and homo) times and great sex, and as always, I will take suggestions and requests on board with great enthusiasm as well!

It's really a win-win-win for everyone! (Except the bigots!)

This story is up for adoption.