"I wish I could get a hold of the newspapers at least," thought Harry, wishing yet again that he had had the foresight to arrange for a subscription. * As things stood the only place he knew of to get a hold of a copy was Diagon Alley and he was stuck at Privet Drive totally unable to go there.
Suddenly an unlikely name popped into his head - "Dobby, Dobby could get me a copy, after all he was willing to help me out with the gillyweed during the competion, I hope he's still willing to help out."
He quickly scribbled a note on a spare bit of parchment and let Hedwig out of her cage.
"Hi girl, could you please take this to Dobby."
"Master Harry Potter Sir called for Dobby," shouted a elf as he suddenly appeared at Harry's side causing Harry to fall over in shock.
"Dobby," said Harry, "How did you get here? I was just about to send you an owl."
"Master Harry Potter does not need to send Dobby an owl, Master Harry Potter Sir simply needs to call Dobby and Dobby will come."
"Really, that's great," said Harry. "Dobby I need some help and was hoping you could help me out."
"Of course, Dobby is always very happy to help out the great Harry Potter," said Dobby almost hyperventilating in his eagerness to serve his favorite wizard.
"Thanks Dobby, I really appreciate it. Now I've been stuck here without any news since the beginning of summer and I really need to find out what's happening. Do you think you'd be able to go to Diagon Alley and fetch me some newspapers?"
"Yes, Harry Potter sir, Dobby would be happy to go get you as many newspapers as you want," said Dobby popping away immediately.
"Damn, he didn't even wait for me to give him some money," thought Harry. "Oh well, I can always pay him once he gets back."
Five minutes later Dobby was back, his diminutive body dwarfed by a large pile of newspapers.
"Here you go Master Harry Potter Sir, Dobby do be getting you all the newspapers printed since the beginning of summer."
"Wow Dobby, that's way more than I was expecting," said Harry in shock. "I wish I'd thought of contacting you earlier, this is exactly what I need. How much do I owe you?"
"Oh no, Harry Potter Sir, Dobby is owing Harry Potter Sir for freeing him from wicked master, Dobby want to help you."
"Thanks Dobby, but I can't let you spend your money on me, I insist on paying you back. And no I won't hear another word about it, now how much did you spend."
"Dobby spent 5 Sickles and 4 knuts," said Dobby in a sulky voice.
"Here's 5 Galleons Dobby, could you keep the change in case I need you to fetch me something else?"
"Dobby would be happy to fetch anything that Harry Potter wants."
With that Harry hunkered down and began to read the papers from cover to cover. It was not long before he had to stop due to the increasing amount of rage he was feeling at the contents of the newspapers. He quickly skimmed through the rest of the papers and found that the rest of them were the same. He was being portrayed as a delusional attention seeking brat in more articles than he wanted to count.
"I don't believe this, Dobby," said Harry. "I mean, I knew Fudge didn't want to believe that Voldemort is back, but this is ridiculous. He's obviously behind this - this abomination. What is he thinking? Is he insane? It's one thing not to believe me, but this... What sense does it make for him to attack me this way? He can't be that certain that I'm wrong. Can he? Any sensible person would at least allow for the possibility that I was right and investigate what I said about Voldemort being back. This attack on me makes no sense at all."
Suddenly with a dawning sense of horror, Harry came to the only conclusion that the information he possessed allowed him.
"He's in league with Voldemort," whispered Harry. "That's the only way this would make any sense. Obviously Voldemort's not ready to announce his return, and is using Fudge and the Prophet to discredit me so that no one will believe me when I say he's back."
"This changes everything," thought Harry, furiously pacing within the confines of the smallest bedroom at Privet Drive.
"Obviously I can't rely on anyone else to protect me from Voldemort, and if the last 4 years are anything to go by, he's going to be coming for me sooner rather than later. No place is safe. If Fudge is in his pocket how hard would it be for him to find out where I live?" thought Harry with an increasing sense of horror and fear.
"He's more than proven himself of being able to attack me at Hogwarts, hell the bugger waltzed in there right under Dumbledore's nose back in first year. Last year Barty Crouch Jr. was there the entire year without anyone being the wiser. God alone knows how many years Peter Pettigrew was hiding there as well. Death Eaters have proven themselves to be able to move freely in and out of Hogwarts and Dumbledores too bloody incompetent to stop them. Lucius Malfoy could walk in and Avada Kedavra me in the great hall at breakfast and Dumbledore would probably have been the one to happily invite him in - the incompetent old goat. And Snape - everyone knows he used to be a Death Eater, and yet he's still allowed to teach us even with his blatant favouritism and total inability to teach. What's to stop him from arranging a little potions accident? God knows there have been more than enough of them in his class. Come to think of it when Voldemort called the Death Eaters to the cemetery Snape must have been called as well. He could have informed Dumbledore immediately but Dumbledore didn't know that anything had happened until I got back to Hogwarts with Cedric's body. If he had told him, then they could have come to the cemetery and at least have prevented Voldemort from using the cruciatus on me and forcing me to duel him. That's one more piece of evidence that suggests that Snape is still a Death Eater. There's no way I can go back to Hogwarts. Safest place in Britain my ass," thought Harry thinking back to how Hogwarts had once been described to him by Hagrid.
"What do I do then? I can't stay here; I can't go back to Hogwarts. What do I do?" thought Harry as he threw himself heavily onto his bed.