When Harry arrived at the farm, he was immediately surrounded by everyone, and Steven enthusiastically prepared a lavish dinner.
"So, what exactly happened?" Theo asked after they finished eating.
Holding a cup of pumpkin juice, Harry began recounting his story—how the Dursleys had confiscated all of his magical belongings as soon as the summer holidays started.
At first, he was at least free to move around until he encountered a house-elf named "Dobby."
"He said something terrible would happen at Hogwarts and told me not to go back."
Harry recounted, still finding that day surreal.
"He said he was trying to protect me, and to do that, not only did he intercept all of your letters to me, but he also used a levitation charm to ruin the dinner Aunt Petunia had prepared for her guests, which messed up Uncle Vernon's business deal."
Under the concerned and tense gazes of Hermione and the others, Harry tried to recount the events in a lighthearted tone.
"And then I got a warning from the Ministry of Magic and was locked up in the room... until Wade and Mr. Lupin came to rescue me."
"That's so strange," Theo frowned. "Without an order from their master, house-elves aren't supposed to act on their own, nor are they allowed to use magic."
"Who could be behind this?" Hermione asked, glancing around.
"It's definitely Malfoy!" Harry said. "He hates me."
The group spent some time discussing the various misdeeds of the Malfoys. Michael noticed that Wade had been quiet throughout the conversation.
When everyone started yawning, Wade finally spoke up, "Time for bed. The farm has protective spells in place—no house-elf can enter without permission."
Harry nodded, slowly beginning to agree with what everyone had said—that Dobby had been sent by the Malfoys to mess with him. It would be foolish to take his warning seriously.
As everyone headed off to their rooms, Michael stayed behind.
"Wade," he asked, "are you still thinking about that house-elf's warning?"
"What do you think?" Wade responded.
Michael thought for a moment before saying, "My family doesn't have a house-elf, but I've heard my father talk about them... based on the nature of such creatures, their actions are generally driven by their master's commands."
"But..." Michael paused, then added, "I believe that anything with its own thoughts is never absolute."
"While it's rare for a house-elf to betray or even kill its master, it's not unheard of."
"Still, there's nothing to worry about," Michael said naturally. "After all, Dumbledore is around!"
At this point, Michael's admiration for Dumbledore was at its peak.
Though he hadn't voiced it, much of last year had been spent in fear, worrying that the Dark Lord might attack students at any moment.
But the outcome proved that the Dark Lord, who had once cast a terrifying shadow over the British Isles, was nothing more than a pawn on Dumbledore's chessboard.
What could be more terrifying than Voldemort?
"Yes," Wade nodded. "Let's hope this year at Hogwarts is peaceful."
Michael headed to bed, but before going upstairs, he glanced back.
Wade sat by the window, reading a newspaper, with a flickering candle beside him. The moonlight, silver and frost-like, bathed him as though wrapping him in a cloak.
An owl flew across the night sky.
Wade's gaze fell on an advertisement in the newspaper:
[Gilderoy Lockhart will be signing copies of his autobiography— "Magical Me" in Diagon Alley.]
...
In the bedroom, though Harry was a little drowsy, he still opened his long-unseen Book of Friends.
This particular page was connected to him, Ron, and Hermione.
When he hadn't received any birthday wishes, Harry had felt utterly dejected, thinking his friends had forgotten him.
But after Dobby's appearance, Harry realized that his friends had indeed sent him gifts, only for them to be intercepted by the bothersome house-elf. With that knowledge, his spirits lifted once again.
Hermione was already here at Granian Farm, so Harry figured he should send Ron a note of reassurance, letting him know it wasn't that he didn't want to contact them—it was that he simply couldn't.
As soon as Harry sent a quick greeting in the Book of Friends, Ron's messages began popping up one after another.
[Ron: Thank Merlin, you're alive!]
[Ron: Why haven't you replied to any of my messages? I've invited you twelve times. Dad says you got a warning from the Ministry of Magic for using magic in front of Muggles…]
[Ron: Are you okay? I'm planning to steal my dad's car to come get you. Fred and George are coming too.]
His handwriting was messy and rushed. Every time Harry tried to reply, Ron's next message appeared on the parchment.
When Harry read that last sentence, he was startled and quickly responded:
[Harry: No need.]
[Harry: I've already left the Dursleys' house.]
[Ron: What happened?]
Finally having the time, Harry explained everything to Ron, including everyone's theories about what was going on.
Suddenly, he heard a tapping at his bedroom window. Looking up, he saw Hedwig outside, staring at him intently.
Harry opened the window, and Hedwig strutted in, placing a fresh dead rat on the table and pushing it toward him with her claws.
"For me?"
Harry chuckled. "Thanks, girl... but I don't eat rats. You can have it."
...
Life at Farm was full of fun.
The group followed Steven around, learning how to care for Bowtruckle babies, rescuing fairies trapped in vines, and watching a Kelpie leisurely play with its foal by the lakeside.
In the early mornings, they collected Mooncalf dung while walking through dew-covered grass. They traded food with Murtlap rats for the juice from their tentacles and, in the evenings, left chicken and fresh fish near Knarl dens.
"It usually hunts for itself, but now it's nursing," Steven explained. "If it doesn't get enough food, it might abandon one or two of its weaker offspring."
The young wizards occasionally found dropped feathers from the Jobberknoll in the bushes, which are valuable ingredients for making truth serums and memory potions. Steven generously told them they could keep whatever they found.
In the afternoons, when they had free time, they would gather in the living room to do homework and practice spells. Sometimes, they'd fly around the farm on their brooms.
A few days passed in the blink of an eye. The young wizards returned home one by one via the Floo Network, and Lupin had finished preparing his new house, ready to take Harry with him.
Before that, though, he confessed something openly: "Harry, Wade, I... I am a werewolf."
He hadn't intended to tell anyone, but after thinking it over, he decided it wasn't something he should hide.
"A werewolf?" Harry was confused.
He knew what a werewolf was, but he had no real sense of the danger they posed.
Wade nodded, "I know."
"You... know?"
Lupin was first surprised, then smiled bitterly. "No wonder you never contacted me on full moon nights. I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner..."
Looking at Harry, he explained, "I was bitten by a werewolf when I was a child, so I became one too."
"But I promise, you're safe. I leave the house every full moon, and I take the Wolfsbane Potion..."
Now that he had a job thanks to Wade, he finally had enough money to afford the potion, which allows a werewolf to retain their sanity after transforming.
"Of course." Lupin, worried Harry might be uncomfortable, quickly added, "You can also stay at Granian Farm if you want. I asked Mr. Murray, and he said he'd be happy for you to stay here until school starts."
"I'll stay with you," Harry said firmly, gripping his hand. "I trust you won't hurt me!"
Harry had longed for a place to call his own for so long, and not even the fact that Lupin was a werewolf could make him afraid or hesitant.
...
"Get ready, Wade," Steven said cheerfully after the farm had returned to its usual calm. "Tomorrow, we're going to visit Mr. Scamander. I've already set up a meeting with him."
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