Speak Up - Female Deaf Harry Potter AU

Dobby, The Whispers in the Walls, Chapter 1

Not for the first time in the two weeks since Hari had left Hogwarts,  Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his niece Hari's Owl, who was in a padlocked into her cage by a upstairs window to stop her from talking to anyone; and was taking it out on said niece. "Third time this week!" he roared in her face.
Hari tried, yet again, to explain. She's bored, She wrote, She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night.

"Do I look stupid, freak?" snarled Uncle Vernon, pushing her, backwards, she tripped over the door frame. "I know what'll happen if that owl's let out." 

She missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache. She missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, his classes, the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in her four-poster bed in the tower dormitory, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world. The thing Hari missed the most though, was people who cared about her. 

All Hari's spellbooks, her wand, robes, cauldron, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a cupboard in the pantry by Uncle Vernon the instant Hari had come home. What did the Dursleys care if Hari lost her place on the House Quidditch team because she hadn't practiced all summer? What was it to the Dursleys if Hari went back to school without any of her homework done? As far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame, and she ought to be punished for it...... constantly. Whether if was hitting her when she annoyed them, tripping her as she passed, making her do horrible chores, or just plain out beating her, she was always seen as a freak, and shown what they thought of it.

After breakfast, which Hari was not allowed to participate in, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day. This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career, "

 Uncle Vernon was talking about a dinner party. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon's company made drills). "I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon. "We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be -?"

"In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."

"Good, good. And Dudley?"

"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"

"They'll love him!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.

"Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Hari. "And you?"

I'll be upstairs, in the laundry room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there wrote  Hari on her slate. She'd be up there, because her cupboard under the stairs was too close to where the guests would be.

"Exactly," said Uncle Vernon nastily. "I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them -drinks. At eight- fifteen -"

"I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia.

"And, Dudley, you'll say -"

"May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman.

"My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia.

"And you?" said Uncle Vernon viciously to Harri

In the laundry room, making no noise

"Precisely and stop pointing your finger at us freak." He said, bending it backwards painfully. "Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"

"Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason.... Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason ......

"Perfect. . . Dudley?"

"How about -'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you."'

"And you, girl?"

In the laundry room, making no noise

"Too right, you will," said Uncle Vernon forcefully. 

What wouldn't she give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard? She'd almost be glad of a sight of Draco Malfoy, just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream .... because no one had contacted her, no one had asked if she was ok, no one asked why she hadn't been sending them letters.

Hari kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remembering his livid face, his wide, mad eyes

Harry suddenly sat bolt upright from where she'd been kneeling, weeding the garden. She had looked into the hedge - and the hedge was staring back. Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves.

Hari jumped back to work as Dudley appeared behind her, and pushed her into the mud.

The huge eyes blinked and vanished. While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Hari cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench. The sun blazed overhead, burning her skin. Maybe she didn't actually have any friends at Hogwarts .... Wish they could see famous Hari Potter now, she thought savagely as she spread manure on the flower beds, her back aching, sweat running down her face, fogging her glasses, which were once again broken, curtesy of a punch to the face from Dudley.

At half past seven, Hari moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen, walking on the newspaper. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.
Still dirty, she did her best to towel herself off, Aunt Petunia gave her two slices of bread and a lump of cheese then had her walk on the newspaper until she reached the laundry room. She opened the door and went to sit down, glad to be alone. The trouble was, there was already someone, or something there.