Dumbledore was speaking, and I forced myself to listen. I had begged my mother to let me in on the meetings, and my wish was finally granted. I didn't expect to come out of it despising my headmaster, however. What he was saying…was so disturbing. I could only think about how Harry had to know, but Dumbledore was keeping him in the dark. Harry wasn't there with us. He was the one who should have been allowed in the meeting, not Hermione and me. Harry had to know. How could Dumbledore even consider keeping this from him? Seeming to read my mind, Hermione spoke up.

"Professor, what about Harry?"

"What about him, Miss Granger?"

"Shouldn't he know this?"

Dumbledore paused a moment before replying. "Ah," he said, and I wanted to kill him. Whenever he says that, it annoys me to no end. It means that there is a long explanation of some sort succeeding, and the information would not be comprehended quickly. "Yes, you are correct." Well, that was blunt. He usually skirts around the point long before making it.

"Good," I said, wanting to speed things up. "I'll owl him later."

There was a rustling at this, and Dumbledore was quick to counter me. "I'm afraid that is not a possibility, Mr. Weasley. To put this information in a letter is asking for trouble."

"Than how do you suggest he find out?" I turned to Hermione. She sounded so far from her usual I-will-act-polite-because-you're-a-teacher attitude. Instead, she was brisk and annoyed.

"He needs to be informed in person. He'll know when he returns."

"Which will be when? You know he hates it there!" Now she sounded accusatory! I didn't know where this personality came from, but I had to admit, I liked it.

"Just two more weeks. Believe me, I do not get any enjoyment out of sending him away for summers; it is for his safety."

"We'll tell him," I put in. "We'll go to his house and tell him. He has to know." Dumbledore looked surprised, and actually considered my suggestion. It seemed to take years, but he finally said, "Perhaps. See me later."

+--+--+

Most people left after the meeting, but others lingered for dinner. Dumbledore pulled Hermione and me aside.

"If you can swear to me that you'll accomplish this without being seen by anyone but Harry, I will provide you with an invisibility cloak, and you may see him."

Well, that was a surprising answer.

"Why can't we be seen?" Hermione questioned, skeptical.

"If Death Eaters notice you entering the building, they will know that Harry is there. There are wards, but I would prefer for him to able to exist the house at times. You must also hide yourselves from his relatives. They are not keen on magic, and are likely to kick you out of the house before you get a word in."

Challenge accepted.

+--+--+

"Merlin, Hermione, what time is it?" We were nearing Harry's residence, and I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone see where I was going cramped under the cloak with Hermione.

"It's seven, Ron. It's not that early."

"Couldn't we have left later? This isn't normal, to be up so early. It's inhuman."

"Shut up," but she smiled at me. "I wanted to leave the whole day, in case it's hard to get him alone. Remember, they can't even see us talking to him." I grudgingly agreed, and trudged up to the front door. "How do we get in?" Hermione wondered, looking slightly panicked.

"Can't we just open it?"

"Most people have alarms. They'll hear us enter. And besides, I doubt they left it unlocked." We stood there on the doorstep for a while, not sure how to proceed. And then, "Move over, someone's coming!"

The door opened, and Harry's and put some bottles or something outside. Taking advantage of the situation, we snuck inside, holding our breath. His aunt, Petunia I remembered her name was, then walked up the stairs. Hermione and I shared a glance, and followed. She banged on a door and said, relatively loudly, "Get up," and she left.

"That's Harry's room," I informed Hermione, remembering it from second year.

"Why is there a cat flap on the door?"

I shrugged, unsure myself. We waited a moment, and then Harry emerged. He looked pale and skinny, like he always did at the end of summer, and he was wearing those disgusting hand-me-downs they gave him. We almost said something to him then, but he was shuffling down the stairs before we could.

In the kitchen, Petunia was sitting at the table, staring at the television on the wall. It was some cooking channel. Harry was pulling out pans and cooking breakfast. Harry can cook? I looked at Hermione, and saw that her eyebrows were raised. She was surprised, too.

He was making eggs and bacon while his aunt watched people cook on a screen. I desperately wanted to say something to him then, but Petunia's presence made it impossible. Eventually, Harry's uncle entered the kitchen, looking very self-important. He sat down on the table next to his wife, and Harry immediately served them both breakfast. He then returned to the sink to wash the materials. Petunia and Vernon discussed something I didn't care about, while Hermione and I had our eyes fixed on Harry. When his lard of a cousin joined the scene, Harry served him as well. His family paid him no notice as he did so, and he turned to clean off the other's plates. The family talked and laughed, as he cleaned in silence.

When he'd cleaned and put away Dudley's plate, his aunt sent him outside to work in the garden. We watched him through the window, since we weren't able to get out with him. He hadn't eaten yet. It was a considerably long time of various Harry-excluded activities before his uncle called him in.

"Doesn't he have somewhere to be?" I asked Hermione under my breath, indicating the fat man.

"It's a Saturday, Ron. Most people don't work today."

"Get in here, boy," Vernon demanded. I found myself upset at the obnoxious tone he used. "We're going out. You're to stay in your room. Go, I don't want to see you." As Harry turned to leave, I noticed how he rolled his eyes. Dudley stopped him.

"You're not eating again today, you know that?" He was taunting him, shoving potato chips down his overgrown throat.

"I surmised as much," Harry replied, continuing on his way.

"How long has it been now? I know you've been stealing water from the tap."

"Whatever."

"I'll tell Dad."

"Wow. You're five," Harry said, indicating his cousin's immaturity.

'Fuck you."

"Yeah, fuck you, too," he said casually. Dudley smirked.

"Dad! Harry's cursing at me!"

I watched my friend stop in his tracks, his eyes widened. His uncle's booming voice echoed from the kitchen. "BOY! GET YOUR SORRY ARSE IN HERE!" Harry glared at Dudley before complying.

Hermione and I followed him, still hidden under the cloak, and watched Vernon grab him by the hair. He pulled his head up, and spoke an inch from his face. Spit was falling onto Harry.

"Who do you think you are, you piece of shit?" Vernon shook him, and continued ranting. "How dare you speak rudely to my son!" He threw his nephew away from him, and Harry stumbled to find his balance. Vernon then slapped him across his face. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Harry turned, glaring at his uncle. "You are a useless bastard. We took you in, out of pure kindness, and you've been nothing but a burden all these years!" Another smack in the head. I wanted to run out, reveal my identity and protect him, but I knew I couldn't. "You will respect your betters, boy! Get up to your room, and that's another week without meals!" He threw him toward the doorway, and Harry hastily made his way up the stairs, ignoring his grinning cousin. We followed him, and snuck into the room as the door opened. He collapsed on his bed.

We could have said something then, but we were both in too much shock to do so. Behind us, we heard locks close on the door, trapping us in. Harry lay on his stomach. It was a moment before he spoke.

"Who's in here?"

I was so taken aback at that. How did he know? I did the only thing I knew in situations such as these: I looked at Hermione for the answer.

"Harry," she said quietly.

"Shit," Harry muttered, turning around. "Hermione, what are you doing here?"

She pulled the cloak off us, and we approached him. Hermione flung her arms around him before responding. "We have to tell you something," she said, "but we had to tell you in person. How are you?"

"Terrific," he said, sarcasm dripping from each syllable. Hermione looked abashed. "What do you have to tell me? Can I leave?"

"Not for another two weeks, according to Dumbledore. I wish you could. Your relatives are awful."

"How long were you here for?"

Hermione stumbled over her words. "A while."

Harry was clearly upset, but he let it go. "What do you need to tell me? Because you need to be out of here before they get back."

Hermione turned to me, and it was obvious she was done speaking. It was my turn.

"You-Know-Who," I said slowly slowly, "he's moving fast now. I mean, faster than before. He wants you dead."

"He's not the only one."

I ignored this and continued, "They're setting up this huge thing, him and his Death Eaters. Like, they're going to be following you everywhere. Literally. And You-Know-Who, he…he can fly. He wants to get you surrounded so that he can easily, I don't know, swoop down, and…well…"

"Kill me."

"Yeah."

Harry sighed, and rubbed his hands over his face, thinking. It seemed to take forever, but he finally spoke. "Well, that's good to know." He paused. "When am I coming back?"

He seemed so desperate to get out of there. Hermione looked heartbroken.

"Two weeks," she said, barely audible. Harry chuckled humorlessly. "I wish you could come with us now," Hermione continued, a bit louder, "but Dumbledore said you need to be here longer this summer, because of the protection or something."

"Yeah, mate," I said, "We all want you back. It's pretty boring without you."

Hermione formed her next words carefully. "Harry…I didn't know it was this bad here,"

Harry looked surprised and upset at the turn of conversation. "It's not that bad. I mean, this is a huge improvement." He meant it to calm us, but it had the opposite effect.

"When was the last time you ate?" I asked. He was so emaciated.

He shrugged. "Last week. I'm fine, though. It's Hedwig I'm worried about. I took some stuff for her from school, but it only lasted a few weeks."

It was like this all the time for him. He had even prepared for it before the summer holidays, by sneaking food from school. And he wasn't even concerned for himself.

"Why haven't you answered our letters?" I continued my questioning. He just nodded toward the window. I was sickened to see the bars we'd torn down back up. He needed to get out of here.

Hermione took over, repeating the questioned she'd asked me earlier. "Why is there a cat flap on the door?"

Harry looked embarrassed. I was going to tell him he didn't have to answer, but my curiosity stopped me. Harry rubbed the back of his neck, as he always did when he was uncomfortable. "For food."

I couldn't suppress my shocked "What?"

"Yeah...you know," he said. "For when they lock me in here for a really long time."

This was horrible. I couldn't believe I was ever jealous of him. I'd never trade my life for his! And he'd been doing this for fifteen years…and he said it used to be worse.

"Oh, God, Harry…" Hermione whispered.

"Look, can we not talk about this?" Harry said, austere. "Anyway, you really should leave. They can't know you're here. Oh…"

"Oh, what?" Hermione pressed.

"You can't get out."

A/N: I was going to make this a one-shot, but something compelled me to end it here and continue. It'll be chaptered, but probably not very long. Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading, and please review!