House-elves and the Flying Car

Harry had never had such a terrible birthday.

His birthday had been ruined by Dobby the house-elf, and he had been locked up as well.

He even felt he might never return to Hogwarts again.

Feeling rather hopeless, Harry peered outside through a gap in the metal plates covering his window. After several days of terrible food, Hedwig had lost some weight.

Looking sickly, Hedwig turned her head away in annoyance.

Just then, the door, which only opened twice a day, swung open.

Harry looked up and saw John walk in.

"John!" Harry cried, overjoyed.

John frowned after entering. The place really was rather cramped.

Very little sunlight came through the sealed window. John greeted Harry.

"Harry, Hermione and the others said you weren't answering their letters, so I came to check on you."

John walked over and plopped down on Harry's bed, then asked with a puzzled look, "How did you end up locked up?"

The mere mention of it made Harry angry. Brimming with resentment, he said, "A house-elf broke in. He told me not to go to Hogwarts, then started wrecking things. Uncle Vernon found out I'm not allowed to use magic outside school."

"God, you have no idea what I've been going through."

Having found someone to confide in, Harry poured out his troubles to John.

John found the whole thing strange.

"A house-elf came to cause trouble for you?"

He was puzzled. House-elves generally wouldn't attack wizards, let alone enter someone else's home and wreak havoc.

"Could someone have put him up to it?" John wondered whether someone was deliberately trying to frame Harry.

"Could it be Malfoy?" When it came to possible culprits, Malfoy was Harry's first choice.

John was speechless. You two really do have a love-hate relationship.

It probably wasn't Malfoy. If it had been, he would likely already be writing to John to brag about it.

He ruled out that possibility.

If no one had ordered it, the house-elf might have been acting on his own initiative.

John couldn't understand how a house-elf had become involved with Harry.

Only old, wealthy wizarding families had house-elves.

It would have made sense if he had once belonged to the Potter family. There was no question that the Potters had been wealthy.

John had read about potions developed by the Potter family. One shampoo in particular had sold out completely.

The problem was that Dobby didn't listen to Harry either.

House-elves couldn't disobey their masters' orders. If he belonged to the Potter family, he shouldn't have been able to defy Harry.

Both of them frowned, puzzled by the matter.

"Let's leave that aside for now. John, have you come to rescue me?" Hope shone in Harry's eyes.

He had heard Uncle Vernon screaming like a pig being slaughtered earlier, and he imagined John had something to do with it.

Remembering how John had cut off a troll's head, he suddenly felt there was hope.

John glanced at him, recalling the letter Ron had sent, then shook his head. "Unfortunately, you are going to be rescued, but not by me."

"Then who?"

Harry was confused.

John gave a mysterious smile. He had received a letter from Ron.

Ron's father had told him that Harry had received a warning letter from the Ministry of Magic, and Harry hadn't answered any letters for so long.

So Ron was planning to bring some people over to rescue Harry. John figured they would probably act at night, which was why he had said he wouldn't be the one rescuing him.

After all, he couldn't actually call in gang thugs to kidnap the Dursley family. He was a law-abiding citizen. He had only said that to frighten Dursley.

Although John couldn't get him out, having him there to talk still warmed Harry's heart.

They talked about their holidays. John said he had taken a trip abroad, which made Harry very envious.

"Harry, you need to be careful. I have a feeling Voldemort might make a comeback before long."

John spoke that name, and Harry's expression turned grave.

"I ran into a Death Eater in France. It was only one, but that still means his forces haven't completely fallen apart. Be careful. Perhaps that house-elf had a point."

John didn't remember the plot very clearly. He barely recalled what Harry had encountered in his second year, though he remembered that a crucial clue was in a Chamber of Secrets in a washroom.

He warned Harry, hoping he would remain vigilant at all times.

"I understand, John. I'm really glad you came to see me. If only I had my things here, I could do some revision."

Harry also felt he needed to work harder. Unfortunately, his things weren't in the room, but downstairs.

John told him not to worry. After saying goodbye to Harry and going downstairs, he looked at the nervous Vernon and said calmly, "Even if you're keeping Harry locked up, you should give him time to sort through his things."

Vernon hurriedly nodded. "I'll take his things upstairs right away."

He was genuinely frightened of this young wizard who was the same age as Harry. Even if John couldn't use magic outside school, he could call in a gang and make Vernon's life miserable.

He only wanted to send this devil John on his way as quickly as possible, so naturally he agreed to everything else.

Harry's things were carried upstairs. He had no idea how John had made Uncle Vernon so obedient.

If he could make Uncle Vernon listen to him, why hadn't he simply told him to let Harry go?

Harry couldn't understand any of it. John had already left the Dursleys' house.

He gave a slight nod to the Dursley family as they watched him leave.

To be honest, he didn't dislike the Dursleys as much as he had imagined he would.

For a Muggle family, being willing to raise a wizard like Harry was already quite commendable.

Night fell.

John heard the roar of a car engine.

He lived in the attic. Opening his window, he saw a turquoise car flying through the air.

The car flew right up to the Dursleys' window. John could see three red-haired heads inside.

He didn't need to think to know they were Weasleys.

John rubbed his chin and said, "They modified a Muggle car with magic. That's some impressive alchemy."

The flying car probably wasn't the Weasley Twins' work. Their alchemy wasn't at that level yet.

John remembered Ron saying that his father headed the Ministry of Magic's Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. He seemed the most likely person to have made the car.

"Interesting. Ron invited me to his house, too. If I find time to visit, perhaps we can exchange some ideas about alchemy."

John watched the people in the car pull Harry aboard. Thanks to John, Harry's things were in his room, so they all climbed into the flying car and left straight away.

When Vernon Dursley woke up the next morning and saw the open window, he roared in fury.

He even suspected John had done it, calling in a gang to dismantle his window overnight.

It left him unable to sleep properly for several days, and Dudley was confined to the house as well.

Petunia feared her precious son might become an offer they couldn't refuse.

Dudley suffered terribly because of it. He didn't even have a chance to go outside and bully other children.

None of this had anything to do with John anymore.

He was currently writing a letter to someone named Ben Abbott.

After realizing he would probably struggle to make a magical sword like the Sword of Gryffindor anytime soon, John had shifted his focus to enchanting.

Ben Abbott was a bladesmith, and John was commissioning a greatsword from him.

His reply arrived a few days later, agreeing to make John a sword.

Of course, John would pay him, and he also sent over the required mithril and some wood.

He only needed to wait two weeks to receive a brand-new sword.

The booklist for his second year at school arrived. John picked it up, took one look, and froze.

Apart from textbooks such as The Standard Book of Spells, the other books on the list didn't seem like textbooks at all.

Titles such as Wanderings with Werewolves, Holidays with Hags, and Travels with Trolls... looked more like novels.

John remembered seeing those titles on the booklist Hermione had sent him, too.

He also remembered Hermione saying their contents were fascinating and recommending that he read them.

"Can Hermione predict the future?" After puzzling over it for a while, John decided to set it aside.

He had set up another alchemy workshop in the basement and had made a few things recently.

Perhaps he could find time to sell them.

His family could be considered middle-class, but even they couldn't bear the enormous expense of alchemy.

John decided to support himself. Ideally, he could find a partner, with him making the goods and the other person selling them.

That person would have to be a professional. After all, what John had weren't prank props like the Weasley Twins' creations, but magical items with genuine lethal power.

John thought it over. He didn't know any professionals like that.

Perhaps he could find one in Diagon Alley.