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Within moments, he was standing back in front of the Evans house, the quiet hum of the suburbs a stark contrast to the vibrant magic of the Flamels' castle. He tucked the ring safely into his pocket.
As soon as Harry opened the front door, Petunia, with her hair in a brisk ponytail, welcomed him with a tight embrace. "Welcome back, Harry," she said warmly. Harry, returning the hug, replied, "It's nice to be back, Aunt Petunia."
Almost immediately, Misty appeared with a pop, her eyes wide with excitement. "Misty is so glad to see Master Potter return!" she exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Crookshanks weaved between Harry's legs, purring loudly.
"I've missed this," Harry chuckled, scratching Crookshanks behind the ears, while Misty hurried off to get tea ready, her form a blur of enthusiasm.
Petunia smiled, a rare expression that lit up her features these days. "Let's get you settled in, and you can tell me all about your summer," she suggested, leading him into the living room where the evening light cast a soft glow.
As they sat, Harry began recounting his experiences, carefully omitting the more secretive aspects of his magical education. Petunia listened, genuinely interested, which was still a bit surreal for Harry to see after their rocky past.
"And the legendary Nicolas Flamel, taught you personally?" Petunia asked, her tone mixed with awe and curiosity.
"Yes, he and Perenelle taught me loads about alchemy and the deeper laws of magic," Harry explained, his mind still processing all he had learned.
Petunia got up to check on the tea Misty was preparing. "I'll be right back, Harry."
Left alone with his thoughts, Harry's mind wandered to the ring Nicolas had given him—a Portkey with a direct line back to their castle. He pulled it out of his pocket, examining the intricate carvings and the faint, pulsing glow of the embedded gem.
Looking at the ring, Harry's smile faded into a more serious expression. "Just like the letter, this ring has a tracking rune. If I place it in my inventory, Flamel will know instantly. It seems that despite teaching me for months, he still has reservations," Harry thought aloud in his mind.
"Seems about right, Master Harry," Nigel responded with a touch of amusement. "Perhaps he's worried you'll start turning lead into gold in your backyard and ruin the economy."
Harry chuckled softly, his mind racing with the implications of Flamel's gift. "I couldn't even study the replica Philosopher's Stone in France because Flamel would sense its magic and pinpoint my location. Now, this ring... it's like a leash, in a way."
"Indeed, and let's not start on what could happen if you actually tried using that stone. You'd probably have half the wizarding world on your doorstep by dinner time," Nigel quipped.
Harry's thoughts shifted as he contemplated the security of his current residence. "I need to fortify this place better. We'll need anti-apparition, anti-portkey, and anti-phoenix runes at the very least."
"None of those are child's play, Master Harry. You might need to either hire some serious muscle or become a prodigy in protective enchantments overnight," Nigel advised, his tone only half-joking.
"I'll speak with Grimbletack at Gringotts. Goblins know their runes better than anyone," Harry decided, feeling the weight of the responsibility settling on his shoulders.
Petunia returned then, carrying a tray with tea and biscuits, setting it down as she sat opposite Harry. "All set, Harry. Now, what are you thinking with that frown?"
"Just thinking about some home improvements," Harry replied vaguely, not wanting to worry her with the details. "Grimbletack is an expert; he can advise me on the best ways to keep the house safe."
Petunia nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. She had come to accept the magical part of Harry's life, even if she didn't fully understand it yet.
As Harry sipped his tea, he reflected on his summer with the Flamels. It had been enlightening, challenging, and utterly transformative. Not only had he learned about alchemy, but he'd also delved deeper into the philosophical and ethical implications of magic. He realized he had much to learn about the power he wielded and the responsibilities that came with it.
"Tomorrow, I'll go see Grimbletack. Best to get a head start on these protections," Harry planned out loud, thinking through the logistics.
"And maybe after that, you could consider a nice, relaxing day? Perhaps read a book that doesn't involve ancient alchemical secrets for once?" Nigel suggested, his voice dripping with mock concern.
Harry grinned, appreciating Nigel's attempt to lighten the mood. "Maybe. But first, I've got to sort out these defenses. Can't have too many dark wizards popping in for tea."
"That would only be proper if they brought cookies," Nigel joked.
Harry chuckled mentally. "Was that a Star Wars reference?" he asked internally.
Nigel's voice came with a chuckle, "Perhaps."
On the morning of July 30th, Harry was abruptly woken by Crookshanks jumping on him. Sitting up with a start, he muttered, "What's the matter?"
The cat glanced towards the door, meowing sharply. "Misty caught an elf."
Curious, Harry quickly got up and went to the next room where Misty stood guard over another elf. This elf, with large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes, was dressed in an odd patchwork of a sack as clothes. As soon as it noticed Harry, it began to speak anxiously, "Oh, Great Harry Potter. So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir... Such an honour it is..."
Harry eyed Misty, who shrugged as if to say, 'He's all yours, I didn't invite him.'
Turning back to the elf, Harry addressed him, "You must be Dobby."
The elf's eyes widened, and he gasped, "The Great Harry Potter knows Dobby's name. Oh, what an honor!"
Nigel snorted in Harry's mind, "Does this elf know he's practically shouting his name with every breath?"
Ignoring Nigel's comment, Harry asked gently, "What brings you here, Dobby? It's quite early."
Dobby wrung his hands nervously, almost vibrating with anxiety. "Dobby has come with a warning for Harry Potter. There is a plot, The Great Potter. A plot to make terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered the elf, glancing around as if afraid of being overheard.
Harry furrowed his brows, concern mounting. "What kind of terrible things, Dobby?"
Dobby looked terrified at the question but pressed on. "Dobby cannot say, sir. Dobby can only warn Harry Potter to stay away from Hogwarts. It is too dangerous."
Nigel's tone was skeptical. "Ask him who's plotting these things. This sounds like an overcooked cauldron of trouble."
Harry nodded slightly at Nigel's advice. "Dobby, who is behind this plot?"
The elf's eyes filled with fear, and he shook his head violently. "Dobby cannot say, sir! Dobby only wants Harry Potter to be safe."
Harry considered this. "I appreciate your warning, Dobby, but I can't stay away from Hogwarts. It's my home, my school. But I will be careful, thanks to your warning."
Then, without warning, Dobby began to beat his head against the floor. But Misty swiftly caught him by his bony arm, "Dobby spilled the secrets of my family. Bad Dobby. Bad." He tried to punish himself, but Misty's grip was firm.
Frowning, Harry cast, "Immobulus!" freezing the elf in place. "Your family?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir... Dobby is a house-elf—bound to serve one house and one family forever..." Harry's eyebrows knitted together in concern.
"Do they know you're here?" he pressed.
Dobby's eyes widened with fear. "Oh no, sir, no... Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir—"
Harry interrupted, "But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?"
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