Welcomeone and all to the reposting of Doll Maker! Alice and I haven't really reworked these first couple chapters, because... Well, because I'm lazy. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Regretfully, Alice and I do not own the Harry Potter Franchise.

He got the first one in third grade. It was a small little thing, with rips and tears borne of carelessness and neglect. Dirt had covered it so much so that he'd have thought it to be part of the ground, if it hadn't been so soft when his bully of a cousin pushed him down. He'd snuck it inside of his overly baggy shirt, tucked between his waistband so it wouldn't run away, and snuck off to clean it when his cousin was busy picking on someone else.

He snuck around the back of Number 4, turned on the hose the tiniest bit, and scrubbed the thing with such care and tenderness, you'd think he was washing a small animal instead. As the thing became soggier, its features became clearer to the abnormally small child. Why, it was a little prince! It was a handsome little doll, once one got past the wear and tear, and was still soft with what little stuffing it had left. It had a small crown on its head that was bent at strange angles, and the poor thing looked very unprincely with how ruffled he was. The worst thing about it was its face. It looked lost, betrayed and confused. The little prince must have been thrown out by some very not-nice people. He leaned down and whispered to the soggy, dirty, torn and worn doll, "You're just like me."

The dolls eyes seemed to widen, and then soften. The little prince knew, and the child knew that he knew, that they were birds of a feather. And birds of a feather flock together.

Harry resolved to fix him that night.

As much as Harry had resolved to fix his new friend (because they couldn't be anything else, now that the little prince had seen his cupboard), he just really didn't have the materials for it. Nor did he know where to start. As Harry sat in his cupboard, stomach growling with hunger as he had once again gone without dinner, he pondered what to do about his little problem. He couldn't steal from Aunt Petunia's sewing set, she'd hit him with the frying pan for sure, and he also didn't want to give up what little food money he had collected over time for severe emergencies. Harry needed that, as much as his new friend needed some new clothes and a thorough cleaning. The child glanced over at the little prince, worry marring his innocent face. Surely he couldn't be at all comfortable? But he really couldn't afford to let go of his food money to get him some fabrics, stuffing, and a needle to work with. Harry groaned in frustration and wished with all of his might that he had some instructions for fixing dolls and a sewing set with nice fabric, for the little prince surely deserved some luxury.

Harry huffed and stewed over it some more. He would just try to mend the little prince as best he could with his limited supplies for now. His birthday was in a few weeks, and maybe the Dursleys would be nice for once and get him his own sewing kit, and he could borrow instructions from the library!

…..No, Harry had best keep that desire to himself, for he'd surely be banned from even going near Aunt Petunia's sewing stuff and then he wouldn't be able to fix his new friend at all.

A few days passed and Harry kept fixing up his little prince whenever he was able. Meaning whenever he wasn't being watched like a hawk. He thinks he did a rather commendable job, all things considered. The little prince no longer looked like he'd fall apart at any moment, and though the inexperienced stitches made for nasty scars, the little prince looked a lot happier than he did when Harry had brought him in. He couldn't do anything for the crooked crown though.

A strange thing though, was that Harry always knew where his little prince was. Dudley had even thrown the little prince away at some point, but Harry had found him within the hour. Even out of his mind with worry for the doll he'd hardly let out of his sight, Harry spared a thought or two towards why he was able to find his friend. He suspected that it had something to do with the mysterious sparkling green stuffing that filled his friend after their first day together. So he experimented.

After softly apologizing to his friend, Harry removed the green stuffing and waited for a change. To his surprise, not only could he no longer feel where his friend was, but the stuffing was disappearing into his skin. Harry let out a startled yelp as the chunk he took out of the little prince turned into a sort of brilliant, grass green, sparkling-like-the-stars mist that wrapped around his hand as it seeped into his skin. Was this the freakishness Uncle Vernon was always raving about? This… strange green energy-ish type thing? It was kind of misty, kind of like a light, and it definitely reminded him of a night sky. If said night sky were green. The child watched, half-fascinated, half-terrified, as the stuff unwound itself like yarn fraying into wool and he came to a conclusion. This must be magic. If magic existed, that meant Uncle Vernon was wrong! Maybe Harry really wasn't a waste of space! He even had his very own friend now! An inanimate, sort of broken friend who was probably super cool and princely and stuff, but a friend none the less.

And all of the sudden the good feelings stopped. He had just taken the stuffing out of his friend. Oh gosh, he'd taken the stuffing out of his very first friend! Oh no, the little prince was probably not at all happy with him right now. He didn't even know how to get the strange sparkly-green-mist-magic stuff out of his hand again! Okay, he had to find it first. It'd probably feel like when he found the little prince, so he'd just have to find that and bring it back out of his hand. He could do this. No problem. He would get stuffing for his little prince!

Harry took a deep breath and tried to find the magic (?) that had been in the little prince since their first day together. And find it he did. He felt it shifting along lazily inside him. It slithered through his blood and around his body, seeming to originate behind his heart. It felt shifty and mysterious, like a cat but more easily dangerous. Like The lynxes or a wildcats Harry had read about when he was hiding in the school library. It drifted through his body, fading through what felt like invisible walls before condensing again and continuing on, if a bit thinner than before. It felt like a cloud, just drifting about as it pleased, sometimes releasing bits of itself that seemed to feed something around the house. The thing it fed seemed to thank it graciously, but it felt rather flimsy as well. Something told him it should have been much stronger than it was. There was another, more grounded kind of feeling around his stomach, feeling closer to his belly button, and it didn't drift around like the misty, cloud-ish stuff did. It pooled in his stomach and it made him feel calm. Like a nice resting place after a long, long flight with the birds migrating south. He poked at both feelings, both literally and mentally, and received acknowledgement from both. The calmer feeling just seemed to lazily crack open an eye and go back to ignoring him. "Yes, yes, I can see you, but you don't need me now, so go away." It seemed to say. The drifty feeling, however, seemed to grow excited about his poke. "Yes, yes! You've found me, and now we can play!" Was the feeling he got from it.

Harry bit back a surprised gasp as the drifty-magic (defiantly magic) jumped to just above his skin, giving him an ethereal glow while it moved about in the same manner it had in his body. Strangely enough, the thing that had been eating the stray bits wasn't trying to eat at it now. He instinctually sent an image of the stuffing he needed for his friend to the drifty-magic, who just seemed to wink and give off an, "I can do better than that," kind of smug feeling. He watched, completely enraptured, as the magic coating his skin healed his own bruises and scars and fixed his clothes, before condensing into a tight ball and flowing into his little prince. It dropped a small golden crown with little green gems set into it with a tiny 'clink' as it disappeared into his friend. His little prince's own scars from Harry's patch jobs disappeared and his clothes got repairs that Harry simply hadn't been able to do. In fact, he got a lovely pale yellow poet's shirt and a rich golden vest, those old fashioned kind of puffy pants in old movies in a dark green that looked almost black, and a beautiful shimmering green cloak with silver clip things keeping it in place. He looked a bit more common than Harry imagined a prince to be, more noble-ish instead of princely, but Harry supposed that even princes had a humble dress code for off days. He'd look better with the crown for sure. So, Harry picked up the tiny crown, little more than a large ring for him, and placed it on the top of his little prince.

"Much better." He giggled. Only to bite back another surprised gasp (he was doing that a lot today) as the prince seemed to become more real looking every second that passed from the head down. He looked firmer, more like a human than a floppy stuffed doll. He also started smelling better as well, since sitting in Harry's waistband all day while Harry did chores and he collected the boys sweat was not good when it came to smelling nice (Harry wouldn't let the doll out of arm's reach after he'd been binned by Dudley). As the magic that radiated from the crown seeped past below his waist, his rounded off hands acquired fingers and his elbows became moveable. As the transformation was complete, he was also gifted with shiny black loafers and socks the same deep green as his pants. All-in-all, he looked like he may sit up and breathe at any second.

The extra magic in the now human-looking doll rose from him like steam and curled lazily towards Harry's open-mouthed visage. The magic sunk back into his bloodstream as Harry only stared in awe and shock. As it settled back into its lazy drifting, seeming to be more sluggish than before, Harry reached towards his only friend.

"Wow," Harry breathed, "Wow." It was all Harry was able to say as a shaky hand rubbed a thumb across the tiny prince's new face, a wide grin spreading across his face. Another "Wow." was breathily released as Harry's entire form stated shaking in exhaustion. It was impressive magic for one so young, definitely. Especially because the fabrics and the crown were no mere Conjurings! The new body of the once flat-ish doll was no mere illusion or reversible Transfiguration either. All were very permanently in the material word. Harry knew none of this though. All he knew was that his magic was ultra-awesome and his first friend was still as surprisingly soft and snuggly as ever as he collapsed onto his cot and fell asleep.

As Harry drifted off to sleep, little prince cuddled in his arms, he never noticed a glittering green pulse of light, as it both cleaned his new friend and gave it (sparkling green) stuffing so that the little prince looked a little fuller. Then traveling out to one Marge Dursley, giving her the inexplicable desire to buy her shameful nephew a mocking sort of gift and bring one of her more mildly tempered dogs. That disgraceful Shiba-inu pup she was given earlier that year and a cheap sewing kit would do. She could abandon the pup after her visit.

Thank you for reading! Please leave a review, if you could. Alice really appreciates them! For real, she, like, stares at each one for hours. They're her reason for writing.