Oh my God. I am absolutely floored by the reception the latest chapter had (1.33K views in one day!). I couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day. I cannot thank you all enough for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing. You guys are amazing!

And sorry for how long this took to get out. I know that last time I said I had it all written, but then I decided that it wasn't good enough, so I went back and re-wrote the whole thing. So this isn't very long, but I just can't seem to get past the point this chapter ends at. I thought you guys deserved at least something. I hope you like this chapter anyway.

Now, enjoy!

EDIT, ABOUT 2 HRS AFTER POSTING: I'm having a total freakout here. When I posted, there were 28 views. Now, there are 591 views, and still counting. I can't believe it! You guys are all insanely awesome!

Previously…

Hermione took a deep breath. "Harry," she said, enunciating clearly, "I think you need to tell us about your time at the Dursleys."

...

"I suppose if I have to talk to someone, it might as well be you guys," said Harry reluctantly… "Could you give me a bit to get myself ready?" "Of course," said Hermione, her expression softening. [But] [h]e would never be ready.

...

"...I guess they were resentful that I intruded on their perfect little normal family." [said Harry.] "...[T]he worst of it was doing...chores and missing...meals... [T]hey called me a 'freak' all the time… I got stuck with the cupboard under the stairs."

...

HARRY POTTER'S FULL CHILDHOOD REVEALED!

by Rita Skeeter

"This can't be happening…" Harry said faintly. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the article.

HARRY POTTER'S FULL CHILDHOOD REVEALED!

by Rita Skeeter

Hello, dear readers. Rita Skeeter, from the Daily Prophet, has finally uncovered the full story of Harry Potter. Get ready, because it's a shocker…

Harry Potter was given to his Aunt and Uncle at one year old, after defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Left at night with only a basket, a blanket, and a note, one must wonder at the irresponsibility at the one who left him there. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were angry that Mr. Potter was left with their family, as they had no choice but to take him in. They decided to keep Mr. Potter downtrodden in an attempt to "squash his magic" out. His bedroom, until just before his first year, had been a cupboard under the stairs. He was made to do strenuous housework from a very young age, such as cooking, cleaning, cutting the lawn with a Muggle "lawnmower," and other such tasks. Whenever the Dursleys went on trips, Mr. Potter was left home alone, even as an infant.

Mr. Potter knew nothing about the magical world at all; anything remotely magical, which they called "freakish," was prohibited in the Dursley household. They were not even allowed to read any Muggle stories having to do with magic.

When you add up all of these crimes, one question comes to mind: Who left the Boy-Who-Lived at this despicable home? Why, when there were so many who would have gladly taken him in? And how did we allow our savior to stay here?

We at the Daily Prophet will make sure to find out.

Below the article, there was another notice:

NEXT WEEK: AN EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH THE DURSLEY FAMILY — TWO SIDES TO EVERY STORY?

Harry put down the paper and glared at Ron and Hermione. Anger pulsed through him, which he welcomed. It was an emotion that pierced through the numbness. "I trusted you!"

"We didn't breathe a word, we swear!" Ron exclaimed. "We would never!"

"We're on your side," said Hermione gently. "Remember in First Year, with the Philosopher's Stone?"

"But — but —!"

Harry deflated, the numb returning. He simply didn't have the will to argue anymore.

"All right," he said finally, slumping in his seat. "But how did this" — he glanced down at the paper — "this Rita Skeeter find out about...it?"

Thoughtfully, Hermione said, "Does the Wizarding World have any forms of bugging?"

"What do insects have to do with any of this?" said Ron curiously.

"Not that kind of bugging," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. Then her eyes widened. "Wait — I think I read something — I need to go!"

And with that, she dashed out the door, likely heading to the library.

"Let us know when you feel like sharing!" Ron called after her.

The whole day was torture, in Harry's opinion. At every turn, Harry encountered pitying stares — from his classmates, from his teachers, the ghosts, everyone.

Professor McGonagall had an expression akin to guilt on her face during Transfiguration. Hagrid had burst into tears and crushed Harry into a hug as soon as he had entered Care of Magical Creatures. Even Snape didn't insult him quite so often during Potions class, with a peculiar expression Harry couldn't place. Remus had given him a whole bar of chocolate and told him the password for his quarters.

And Sirius? Sirius had looked torn between murdering the Dursleys and locking Harry in his room with him so he could keep an eye on him at all times.

It was absolutely horrible. To be perfectly honest, Harry would have almost prefered someone to make fun of him or something, rather than endure the looks of pity. He went through his classes in a daze, not quite able to register that his best-kept secret was now out for the world to see.

Finally, after what had seemed like weeks rather than hours, the day was over. Harry had been planning on immediately retreating to his dorm and not coming out for the rest of the day (or month), but Hermione had other plans.

"Okay," she said briskly, dragging Harry and Ron towards the library, "so at the beginning of the year, Professor McGonagall covered Animagus transformations, right? So I looked them up, and I think that Skeeter could be an Animagus! I mean, of course, she isn't on the register, but of course she could do it illegally, there are ways to get your hands on instructions without going through the Ministry first. Turning into a tiny insect or something of the sort would be perfect for journalism, because you could overhear all sorts of things that people wouldn't normally tell the press. I mean, that's not the right thing to do, but there you are. It's the only idea I've got for how she could've heard you. Oh, sorry, I've been rambling again, haven't I?"

"Maybe a little bit," said Ron, rubbing his arm at the spot where Hermione had grabbed it. They were now in the library, and Hermione was pulling out a thick, dusty tome from one of the higher-up shelves.

"Anyways," said Hermione, dropping the book on the table with a loud thump, "my point is, did you see any insects or small creatures near you when we were talking? I mean, it wouldn't help much if she became, I don't know, a dust mite or a louse or tick, but still —"

"Actually," Harry interrupted her, after wracking his memory, "I think I might have seen a beetle on the windowsill."

"Oh!" said Hermione, furiously flipping the pages. "A beetle, huh? She must have arrived when the window was open! And...here's a way we could prove it! The All-Encompassing A-Z Index of Anything Animagi says that that Animagi have marks on their animal form that match a feature they have as humans! Here, some of the things carried over are things like glasses. If we find a picture of Skeeter, we could see if the beetle had any features that match hers!"

"Uh, Hermione, there's one problem with that," said Ron hesitantly, as though afraid to get in the way of her fervency. "The thing is, the beetle's long gone now."

"Oh, that won't be a problem," said Hermione, pushing her bushy hair out of her face. "Remember how we were talking about extracting memories? Well, if we put them in a Pensieve, then we can watch them life-size and see if the beetle matches."

"Another problem with that," said Ron, as Hermione crouched to pull a copy of The Magically Memorable Book of Memory Magic from the lower shelves. "Where are we supposed to get a Pensieve?"

"I thought of that too," said Hermione, straightening up and brushing off her robes. Ron glanced at Harry, his eyes seeming to say Of course. She hesitated. "Well, I couldn't think of any alternatives, but Professor Dumbledore has a Pensieve in his office."

"Are you, Miss Killed-or-Worse-Expelled," said Ron incredulously, "suggesting that we steal from the Headmaster himself?"

"Well, there are some things more important than school," said Hermione, flushing slightly. "We need to do this, for Harry."

Harry ducked his head, feeling his face redden.

"You are!" Ron exclaimed. He got a certain glint in his eye. "So what's our plan?"

"I did some research and asked some classmates," Hermione said, after giving her head a shake to clear it, "and Dumbledore's password always tends to be some kind of candy." She smirked. "And if anyone knows their candy, it's you, Ron."

Ron shrugged. "Well, at least I'm good for something."

"Thank you, both," Harry said fervently. "You really are the best friends a person could ask for."

"Don't mention it," Ron said, his ears going red.

Hermione smiled at him warmly, then it turned slightly sinister. "We'll get that Skeeter, mark my words. Collecting information via Animagus form is illegal, and if she is an unregistered Animagus, this could mean years in Azkaban…"

Harry suddenly found himself glad that he wasn't on Hermione's bad side.