Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story. They belong to the talented JK Rowling. Please read and review. No flames please.

Home is Where the Heart Is

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon screamed the moment he closed the front door behind himself.

Harry opened his cupboard and peered out fearfully.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?"

His uncle's face was red with anger. He was holding a parchment envelope with emerald script on the front.

"What is the meaning of this letter?" Vernon growled.

Harry felt his stomach drop.

"I... I d-don't know sir," Harry stammered

Uncle Vernon's eyes darkened.

"I bet it has something to do with that freak school of yours," he said.

He tore it open and his eyes scanned it quickly. His face became purple as his anger grew. Then he threw the letter down in front of Harry.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

Harry picked up the parchment with trembling fingers and quickly scanned it. It was a letter from Ron.

Dear Harry,

I hope that you're having a good summer. How are those muggles treating you? Dumbledore said I should ask since we haven't had a letter from you in the last week. No one's panicking yet. They're all hoping that you just forgot to owl us. Send Hedwig back with your letter. If you don't my parents will be paying your Aunt and Uncle a visit. I hope you're all right,

Ron

Harry let the parchment drop back to the floor and faced his uncle. Vernon was snarling at him.

"What have you been telling those freaks about us?" he growled.

"Nothing!" Harry cried.

"Liar," Vernon accused, pointing a pudgy finger at his nephew.

"But-"

Harry's reply was cut off by Uncle Vernon's fist smashing into his face. He staggered backward and nearly fell back into his cupboard. He landed on his knees in the doorway. Vernon grabbed a fistfull of hair and pulled Harry upright.

"Get some paper. We're going to write those freaks a nice letter," he snarled.

He threw Harry into the hallway and pushed him into the kitchen. Harry pulled some looseleaf paper out of the kitchen drawer and grabbed a pen that was next the phone. Vernon pulled out a chair.

"Sit," he said.

Harry sat down.

"Now, you're going to tell those freaks what I think you should tell them," Vernon instructed.

He began to dictate.

"Dear freaks."

Dear Ron and Hermione, Harry wrote.

"I am fine. I just forgot to write you for the last few days. I have been very busy lately. I hope that I will you see you soon. From Harry," Vernon dictated.

Harry copied it all down. When Vernon was done he inspected the letter and deemed it acceptable.

"Go and send that letter. Then go to your cupboard," he said dissmissively.

Harry went upstairs to the second bedroom that now housed all of Dudley's broken toys again. Hedwig let out a screech when he opened the door.

"I'm glad to see you too," Harry said, reaching out to gently stroke her head. "Have they been feeding you at all?" he asked.

Hedwig made a disdainful face which Harry took to mean "no".

"I'm sorry about all that," he said softly. "Take this letter to Ron and stay with him until I visit."

He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and opened the window. She flew out and disappeared into the distance.

"Boy!" Vernon roared again.

Harry climbed down the stairs where his uncle was waiting for him at the bottom.

"Cupboard. Now," he ground out.

Harry went into his cupboard. Uncle Vernon locked it behind him.

Ron was eating his breakfast when he heard a screech outside the kitchen window.

"It's Hedwig!" he cried.

"Oh thank god," Molly Weasley breathed. "I bet he just forgot to owl us."

Hedwig landed on the kitchen table. Hermione untied the letter from her leg and scanned it.

"I don't like this," she said. "Something about it dosen't sound right at all."

She handed the letter to Ron. He read it over and frowned. Hermione was right.

"This is really short. Harry never writes short letters, he always writes really long ones about how boring things are and how he can't wait to see us again," Ron said.

He gave the letter to Molly. As she read it over her face knitted into a frown. She took the letter and left the room.

"Arthur!" Ron and Hermione heard her call.

Ron touched Hermione's shoulder to get her attention. She turned to look at him, her eyes filled with worry. Ron gave her shoulder a squeeze.

"Don't worry Herm," he said softly. "My parents will take care of things."

Harry awoke to complete darkness. He had fallen asleep in the cupboard after Uncle Vernon had locked the door. He let out a groan and touched his face. It felt as though his eye had swollen shut.

Harry tried the door but found that it was still locked. He grunted in anger. He was hungry and he wanted to get something to eat. He didn't know what time it was because he didn't have a watch.

Then he heard the sound of footsteps. Harry cringed and squeezed back into the furthest corner of the closet. The lock clicked and the door opened. A shaft of light penetrated the darkness and Harry was relieved to see that it wasn't Uncle Vernon. It was Aunt Petunia with a list in hand.

"Come," she said sternly. "There are chores for you to do."

Harry followed her out into the hall and she handed him the list of chores. He was to clean out all the kitchen cupboards, sweep and mop the kitchen floor, dust the house, clean Dudley's room, wash the car, mow the lawn, weed the garden, and spread mulch on the flower beds.

Harry scowled. He'd never be able to finish all this in one day. He was weak with hunger and he desperately wished that his aunt would give him some food before forcing him to do his chores.

A sharp pinch to his arm broke him from his thoughts.

"Hurry up and get to work," Aunt Petunia snapped.

Harry obeyed.

"What is that Arthur?" Molly Weasley asked, eyeing their mode of transportation critically.

"It's a car dear," Arthur said sheepishly. "It was the only one I could get on such short notice."

The "car" in question was a large bus painted in neon pink, violent yellow, and glowing orange with lurid green and purple flowers all over it.

"Well, I guess it will have to do," Molly said. "Let's get going then."

Arthur let out a sigh of relief. He had been so sure that his wife was about to throw one of her famous shrieking fits.

Harry never did manage to finish all of the chores on his list. Aunt Petunia complained to Uncle Vernon about it, calling Harry lazy and selfish. Uncle Vernon had dragged Harry back to cupboard and locked him in without food as punishment. Harry lay there, crying softly. The entire situation seemed hopeless. He would never get through the entire summer alive, especially if the Dursleys kept witholding food from him. He whimpered and curled up on the floor of the closet. He pulled his ratty, thin blanket around him and drifted off to sleep.

Awhile later he was awoken by shouts coming from the hallway.

"How dare you freaks drive up to my yard in that hippy contraption! My neighbors are watching! Do you know how much embarrassment this is going to cause me? People are going to ask questions!"

"Quit stalling and tell us where Harry is!"

"I told you! There is no one here by that name!" Uncle Vernon shouted. "The boy ran away!"

"Hogwash!" a familiar voice said irritably. "Now tell us where Harry is or I'll have to hex you."

"Don't you point that thing at me you freak!" Uncle Vernon screamed.

Aunt Petunia's shrill voice broke through.

"There! He's in there!"

Harry heard the lock on the cupboard slide back. Light filled the closet as the door was opened.

"Harry dear! Are you all right?" he heard a frantic voice asking.

Gentle hands shook him. Harry tried to sit up and immediately dropped back down again. He was dizzy.

"I don't feel so good," he murmured.

He was scooped up into a strong pair of arms against a billowy fabric that held a large pillowy busom. Long red hair which had slipped from it's confines tickled him. Harry knew who it was instantly. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had come to collect him. He spiralled back down into the darkness again.

When Harry opened his eyes again he heard Mrs. Weasley conversing with an unfamiliar voice.

"He's got a few bruises and cuts but nothing that a few potions can't cure. I suggest you get some water into him as soon as possible. He's dehydrated and quite malnourished. It would be best to introduce food slowly though. Don't force him to eat too much at once."

Harry moaned and mumbled something about his head hurting.

"Oh Harry dear, you're awake," Molly said.

"Whos'at?" Harry said thickly, pointing to the man in the white coat.

"This is doctor Herbert von Crinklemeyer. I called him to make sure that you're all right," she said. "How do you feel? Does it hurt anywhere?"

"Now now Molly," the doctor said patiently. "Let's not overwhelm the boy with questions just yet."

He was pulling several vials of potions from his bag.

"You'll need to take these," he said. "They'll help you feel better."

Harry was too weak to argue. Mrs. Weasley helped him sit up and he took each potion as the doctor handed it to him.

"That's a good boy," Mrs. Weasley said.

Harry laid back down. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

When Harry awoke for the second time he was lying curled up on his side and he felt much better. He yawned and stretched. He was still weak but this time he could actually sit up without feeling as though the room was spinning in circles. Holding onto a chair next to the bed for support he carefully put both feet on the floor and hoisted himself up.

Once he was sure that he could stand reasonably well Harry made his way downstairs. Mrs. Weasley was standing in the kitchen, cooking supper. Ron and Hermione were sitting at the table, their heads bent together, discussing something in hushed tones. They looked up when he entered.

"Hi Harry, how do you feel?" Ron asked.

"Not too bad," Harry said.

He took a seat at the table.

"Dumbledore was here awhile ago. He went in to see you but you weren't awake," Hermione said.

Mrs. Weasley turned from the stove to face Harry.

"He was quite concerned about you," she said.

Harry didn't know what to say but she didn't seem to notice and continued on.

"He wanted to talk to Arthur and I about where you'll be staying next summer."

Harry felt his heart start to pound.

"Did he say where?" he asked, hardly daring to believe that it would be anywhere other than with the Dursleys.

Mrs. Weasley's face lit up into a smile.

"He asked if we would be willing to take you in for the summers and I told him it was no problem. Arthur and I would be glad to have you," she said enthusiastically. "After all you shouldn't have to live with people who don't treat you right."

Harry felt his face light up with a huge grin. The prospect of never having to visit the Dursley's again made him feel as though Christmas had come early. He looked over and saw that both Ron and Hermione were grinning as well.

"That's wonderful!" Harry said.

"We thought you'd like it," Molly answered.

She turned back to her cooking.

"Hey Harry, wanna play some Quidditch later today?" Ron asked eagerly.

Hermione cut in.

"I don't think Harry's up to playing Quidditch just yet. He's just recovering. We don't want him to fall off his broom and break his neck. "

"I think I have to agree with Hermione on this one. I don't feel all that good yet. Let's just play exploding snap," Harry said. "Hermione can play with us."

Ron went upstairs to fetch his exploding snap cards.

Harry leaned over and whispered to Hermione, "It's great to be home."

THE END