Harry Potter 1. House of Concealments

Chapter One  
  
"House of Concealments"  
  
Kill or be killed. That was Harry Potter's option. His life, which had started out so inadequately, was now a tangled web of lurid memoirs that were required in order to fulfill his providence of destiny. The Prophecy, which up to now was still unknown by the majority of the magical community, had officially sealed the doomed fate of his existence.  
  
Harry didn't know how to exactly feel at first about the Prophecy afterwards when he lied sprawled on his bed at nights. He supposed he had mixed emotions. On one hand there was a new excuse abroad for him to brood about life (mainly because of Sirius Black's death did he fancy this reason), but on the other hand he was now facing something so real and dark that he was beyond scared.  
  
"Gryffindor" he muttered under his breath sometimes at night when he would open his trunk to stare at his Gryffindor House Badge.  
  
Why had the indistinct Sorting Hat placed him in a house when he never felt less brave in his life? Why had the imprudent and egotistical Sorting Hat insisted that the correct house for him was Gryffindor? And most of all, why had Harry believed in the Sorting Hat's judgment so much the previous year that he felt him too merited to let the bounds of restrictions and warnings keep him away from his own irresolute decisions?  
  
"Oh yes" Harry mumbled to himself closing his fingers on his badge in disconcert at his own recent idiocy, "I am really so superior enough to face Voldemort that I can't rationalize one of his dupes when its right in front of my eyes. I'm not the one. I don't care what Dumbledore, or anyone else says! I am not the one!"  
  
Harry flung his Gryffindor Badge across the shadowy bedroom and didn't bother to give a second thought to searching for it afterwards. As far as he was concerned he was not a Gryffindor. He wasn't even a teenager. He, apart from the rest of the world, was the only savior. ~*~*~*~  
  
Ever since Harry could remember he was diverse from everyone around him (the Muggles, the Dursley's, the kids at school), but when he entered the magical world it seemed he had a ray of hope to finally find his kind. That ray of hope was doused when Hagrid had explained to him all about the dark wizard that had murdered his parents and attempted to kill him as well.  
  
The first feeling Harry felt when he learned this news was of mixed emotions. He was still pleased at his escape of the Dursleys, but he was inquisitive about why exactly Voldemort had wanted him dead so acutely. But of course he got his answer to his curious question on that horrible June evening when Harry let his protagonist desires get in the way of reality.  
  
It still hurt more than anything to think about it. Whenever he would fall asleep it would seem he'd dream about the worst day of his life. The day he showed his heart on his sleeve and risked everything. The event seemed to haunt him perpetually in his dreams and usually during the humid summer nights he'd awake panting and screaming in horror, always thinking that Sirius had just died a moment ago. But he hadn't. He was long dead, and he was never coming back.  
  
And if things could possibly even get worst than the death of the only true fatherly man he had ever known, that was the same night he learned of the Prophecy. The same Prophecy that would make others beam at the thought of being conceded with such magnitude, made him quiver with sickness and anxiety.  
  
It was that cursing Prophecy that set him apart from everyone. It was that Prophecy that basically set Voldemort on the warpath for his blood, and eventually killing his parents. It was that Prophecy that was the reason he spent ten years of hell with the Dursleys and every summer after that. It was that Prophecy that was the result of the demise of Sirius Black, whom would have been set free of his condemned convictions a few hours later. And it was that Prophecy that marked him, apart from everyone else, to face Lord Voldemort in order to save the free world. ~*~*~*~  
  
One Thursday morning when the sun had barely just rose above into view, a snowy white owl by the name of Hedwig flew into the half open window of Harry's bedroom with a letter attached to her ankle. Hedwig stopped at her water dish and quenched on the satisfying water for a moment before she thought of waking her owner, and notify him that he had received a letter.  
  
Softly, Hedwig hooted at Harry to alert him of his mail. When her first attempt did not work she hooted a tad bit stronger as if it were an alarm or warning.  
  
This seemed to wake the sleepy teenager, because he began to stir. Finally, when he was fully awake she held out her leg for him to untie the parchment, and nipped at his ear torridly before she went to rest in her cage.  
  
Harry tore open the letter eager to have some communication with someone he was familiar with so that it would temporarily end his trepidations. He was mightily pleased to discover it was a letter from one of his two best friends, Ron Weasley. The letter read:  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
How are you mate? The beginning of the summer's always a dread, because your miles away. Ginny's too annoying to spend time with, and Fred and George are always busy with duties for the Order and with their joke shop. I'm left alone mostly all day with Ginny since the whole families busy with the Order's cause now. It's pretty dull. On a brighter note, did you hear the good news about the Chudley Cannons? They're in third place for the Quidditch Cup and if they beat Peru next week, they'll take second! Other than that things are as they always are. And no, before you ask I don't know of anything real unusual happening dealing with the war. You know mum and dad won't tell me a bit. And the worst part is Fred and George are just like them! To think they'd remember how it was being stuck in the dark! But its like they're totally different about matters like that now. Well mum wants me to tell you we'll see you soon, but I dunno when. I guess I'll write to you again soon, later then mate!  
  
-Ron  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Harry sighed involuntarily. It was always soon. Always, every summer, they would always write they'd see him soon. And every summer he'd always wonder how soon was soon?  
  
Harry folded his letter and stuffed it inside the box under his bed where he collected all of the letters his friends had written him over the summers; he had built up a very impressive album of letters by now. He was still waiting for the response from his other best friend Hermione Granger and of course the reply to Hagrid the Hogwarts gamekeeper as well.  
  
That was all there was to do. He had nothing better to do during his dull and tedious summer days, but mark down his calendar in excitement until the day he'd leave. That's how it was every year, and he wouldn't expect anything more or anything less. Afterall this was Privet Drive, and at Privet Drive everything always continued in a repetitively droning pattern.  
  
Harry could already tell that this day (like everyone else) was going to be just the same. He'd spend the morning in his room reminiscing about his life in the magical community, at exactly half pass noon he'd use the restroom before he ate the bowl of chilled soup his Aunt Petunia had prepared for him, once he returned to his room he'd sit down on the edge of his bed and bewail about Sirius until the afternoon was over. When evening fell and Uncle Vernon returned he'd decide that he usually needed a change of venue and would take a nice walk outside to the park around the corner and back. For the rest of the night, that is after he finished the stale dinner from the Dursleys, he'd spend hours dooming his fate.  
  
Over his hours of thinking about everything he had noticed something rather key. Comparing himself with the old Harry, even the one before fifth year, he had changed so much. A year ago he was just satiated and bursting with aggression, but now when he thought about it, he wondered what was the point? He couldn't think of any essential reason to brood and rant about silly, meaningless things any longer. He seemed to not have the energy, or quite frankly the mind for it.  
  
As Harry sat there on the edge of his bed staring ahead of him profoundly in thought he asked him aloud, "maybe...maybe I should go for a walk...now...instead of waiting until later" He stood up actually feeling that a change of routine was good. Privet Drive needed an alteration, for it was much too dull and perceptible; or that's what Harry thought, but he didn't know that even Privet Drive had its concealments. ~*~*~*~  
  
Aunt Petunia was out back planting more bougainvillea flowers in their flowerbed, stealing glances over the perfectly painted white, picked fence as Harry crept from his bedroom that morning. All seemed so well, and so dully boring. The sky was now a healthy blue, the sun a round, bright yellow, and the atmosphere smelled of its usual replicated optimism.  
  
Harry was grateful that Aunt Petunia had not heard him shut the front door and step out across the front path for he did not want a confrontation with her. He tried to avoid her all times of the day now during these recent times.  
  
He still wasn't sure what to think about his Aunt. At times it seemed as if she weren't hiding anything at all, but then there were other occurrences where she'd act so weird it was unDursleyish. But above all the inexplicable memories dealing with his Aunt, the most baffling one up to date was last summer when Headmaster Dumbledore had send her an owl with the four words, "Remember My Last Petunia". Still, despite the explanation from Dumbledore, Harry couldn't help pondering if there was more to this.  
  
Why had Dumbledore sounded so callous and rude? That wasn't his voice at all, or else Harry surely would have recognized it. Harry shook his head to rid himself of the ridiculous thoughts. He couldn't waste time now thinking about all of this. He had more important things to stuff his mind with.  
  
While he passed Mrs. Figg's house on that Thursday, summer morning Harry thought of visiting her (now that she was identified as one of his kind, or near to it anyway), because he found that maybe she could give him some answers as to what were happening.  
  
Harry stopped at the park, as he always did, and sat down on the nearest bench. The whole park was deserted except for a few toddlers playing about with their older brothers or sisters keeping careful eyes on them. Harry didn't pay any particular attention. Why? He couldn't bear to think that so many children in the world had such happy and colonized families when he had absolutely no one, but a heartless and insensible Aunt. He supposed he was jealous of them.  
  
"How" he muttered under his breath his eyebrows curving into anger, "am I supposed to save them...why should I even worry of them? They're so happy and I'm not. They get everything and I get nothing. They..."  
  
He had stopped in mid-sentence for he had just had a sudden and astonishing epiphany. It had to be the oddest one he had ever had. He didn't know where it had come from, it had just sprouted from somewhere.  
  
"That's why I'm cursed...that's why its me...I'm so shallow...I always think about myself? How could I ever for even one second resent them? They're just little children. It's not my fault they've got what I want and I'm stuck with scratch. Maybe I should for once...well...maybe I should stop brooding. I said I wouldn't, I thought I didn't have enough strength after Sirius, but apparently I rant subconsciously. I need to stop. Now. I can't keep doing this to myself. It only makes me feel worst. What the hell am I mad at them for? I have two of the greatest friends I could have ever wanted...I guess I can't ask for much more with my luck" he thought.  
  
Harry stood up from the bench actually feeling good for the first time in a long time about his new resolution. He thought he would actually be able to keep this one. It sounded simple enough. He honestly never felt like it had been truer. And as he walked back to number four, Privet Drive he actually felt the gap where Sirius had been clench itself just a tad more. ~*~*~*~  
  
"Where did you go?" asked Aunt Petunia as soon as he stepped through the front door. She was still wearing her light cobalt gardener shirt with matching overalls and a straw sunhat to bloke the already burning rays of the sun. She had her blonde hair tied back so that her horse-like face could be seen even clearer.  
  
Harry looked over at his Aunt, and for a moment he attempted to ignore her until she cleared her throat soundly. He stopped at the foot of the stairs rolling his eyes as he replied, "I went for a walk"  
  
"Uh huh..." she answered taking off her gardener gloves and tossing them onto a hallway table where a vase and a picture of Dudley were placed. "Out for a walk eh? Well you better not have been up to anything odd...but I know you were"  
  
"Can I go now?" interrupted Harry quite rudely, but somehow not really caring that he was. He had had enough of her, and that was precisely the reason he had been trying to evade her since he had arrived there in June. He despised his Aunt, and for the main reason, he really didn't know why. It seemed that his hate had grown over the years. The fact that she had 'pretended' to care for him so much to take her into her home and raise him, made him sick. No matter what Dumbledore said she did not care for him. He was positive of that.  
  
"You ought to have more politeness...I'm your Aunt," she reminded raising an eyebrow as she glared at him.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and answered in a sigh, "I know you are. Now can I go now?" Each second she held him back made him slightly more aggressive. He knew he had just vowed to tirade less, but this wasn't haranguing. This was personal.  
  
"Get out of my sight then" she snarled finally taking a moment to respond. She turned around and stormed from the narrow hallway into the kitchen shutting the door behind her.  
  
Harry gladly made to continue upstairs when he thought he heard something. At first he wasn't sure what it was, but it seemed to get clearer. "No" he thought silently, "she can't be...she's not crying...what for?" But as he listened he did have to admit it did sound as if Aunt Petunia, for the first real time ever that Harry had ever heard, was truly, deeply, sorrowfully crying. ~*~*~*~  
  
"Oh no" Harry muttered under his breath. What was he to do now? It would make him a horrible person to just ignore it and to just leave his Aunt crying, when he really didn't know why she was sobbing. Harry stood on the staircase in a junction of whether or not to go ask her what was wrong. Finally, he decided what he had to do. He sighed and murmured to himself, "oh Harry you bloke...you're going to regret this soon..."  
  
He pushed the kitchen door open and peered around. His Aunt was standing at the sink her head bowed and a soft gurgling noise escaping her lips. Harry stood barely over the threshold to the kitchen, watching her with his hands at his side. Did she know he was there?  
  
Harry purposely cleared his throat to get her to acknowledge him, but her response was a hiccup. Just in case she didn't hear him, he coughed a long, slow, dry cough. The gurgling stopped and steadily she turned around to look at him. He didn't know what expression to wear on his face; should he look sad, or angry, or curious? He decided to go with a blank stare, because it seemed it would fit the occasion best.  
  
"Erm...what's wrong?" he asked quietly swinging his hands casually.  
  
"Why should you even care?" she snarled at him dabbing at her eyes with a dishrag that had been lying on the nearby counter. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was pink now; it was obvious she was upset.  
  
"Fine, if you don't want to talk..." Harry said coolly crossing his arms before he turned to go.  
  
"Of course I don't want to talk about her," she whispered loathingly, obviously bursting to get out the thoughts tormenting her mind. Petunia tossed aside the rag and continued voluntarily, "Why would I want to spend such a glory worthy summer morning chatting all about her..."  
  
"Who?" Harry asked, though he was sure he knew.  
  
"Hah..." she snorted. Her eyes were lit with a crazed humor that he had never seen before; he wasn't sure he wanted to. "You think you knew all about her" she whispered taking a few steps closer, "but you don't...you don't know..."  
  
"Know what?" Harry asked still dumbfounded.  
  
"I can't tell you, right? I'm not supposed to..." Petunia yelled laughing stridently. "And I'm not supposed to break those rules, am I? REMEMBER MY LAST PETUNIA!" she mimicked with her attempt at Dumbledore's angered voice the previous year.  
  
"What does that have to do with everything?" Harry questioned now finding this chat quite informative.  
  
"No" she answered beginning a pace around the kitchen as she fidgeted madly; Harry watched her closely, not wanting to make any sudden movements. "Nothing's wrong" she whispered under her breath, "absolutely nothing...everything's keen...everything's perfect...everything's just peachy..."  
  
But by the looks of things, nothing was even close to being peachy. ~*~*~*~  
  
"It...it doesn't look peachy" Harry said quietly. He knew he was pushing his luck with this comment, but his probing and curious side seemed to take control before he replied, "it even looks like something's bothering you...something from your past..."  
  
"Shut up boy!" she shouted surprisingly aggressive suddenly. She turned away again hiccupping between snivels as she rested on the counter again; Harry wondered what was so upsetting to make her do this.  
  
"Look I'll go then. I don't feel like standing here and watching your ramblings. Bye" he said coldly turning for the exit, but it appeared his dear old Aunt Petunia had had a change of heart.  
  
"You're going then? Fine! You wouldn't understand anyway! No one would!" she cried her voice trembling with emotion.  
  
"This is odd. She's having an emotional break down, but the question is...about what?" he thought inside his mind, "is she keeping something from me?" He tried to move, but his feet were rooted to the floor with utter oddity.  
  
"I won't have you think that I'm harboring some secret! I'm not! I was just...just feeling sensitive this morning, okay...now...please...go...now...GO!" she choked her voice tearing with so much feeling she was unable to say anything else.  
  
Harry indeed left this time to return to his haven of a bedroom. He didn't feel he needed to sit down anymore, but his feelings were more along the lines of restlessness. He was being pumped with so many questions now that he didn't know what to think or what to believe. What was bothering Aunt Petunia so much that she would crack up with such expressed sentiment? And what did she mean about Dumbledore's owl post to her the year before? Was there more to the four-worded letter that met the eye? ~*~*~*~  
  
"Do you want any more?" Harry asked Hedwig dipping his hand in his bag of owl treats to refill his handful. Hedwig nodded no as she gulped down the rest of the bits she had in her beak; apparently Harry was over feeding her. "Sorry" he said setting down the bag and walking away from her cage.  
  
He didn't have much to do, but talk to Hedwig, and the majority of the time that was as interesting as having a conversation with Dudley (well he wasn't sure he'd go that far). Harry decided to fetch a piece of parchment and write to his best friends and Hagrid to pass time. He had begun to run out of things to say to them over the past few days (he wrote to them a minimum of three times a day).  
  
"I wonder how Hagrid is," Harry thought aloud. He dipped his quill in ink and began to write. It only took him a few minutes before he finished his whole letter. He was about to send Hedwig off with the letter when a small owl barely bigger than Pig entered. This owl was black with quite a fury coat for being an owl.  
  
The adorable owl landed on his shoulder and held out his leg for Harry to untie the letter. "Why hello" Harry said to the owl as he carried it over and offered it water, "whose sent this letter?" He discovered a second later that the letter was from his best friend Hermione Granger. He eagerly opened it fervent to have some sort of communication with her. The letter read:  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
How have you been? Are you all right? I've been really worried about you. I didn't know what you would do alone, left to think about Sirius all summer. I was going insane for the first couple of days. Well anyway, I just want to remind you that if you ever need to talk about his death that Ron or I will always be here to listen. Before I begin ranting to you about how important it is that you express your feelings, I just thought I'd let you know I think we're going to be seeing each other soon. Ron wrote me yesterday stating that the Weasley's were going to come get you soon, I mean really soon. I'll probably be there shortly after, because it'll take me much longer to get to the Burrow. Erm, well anyway I have to be going. Bye!  
  
~Love always, Hermione  
  
Harry folded the letter just glad to have a response from one of the people he knew deepest. He walked over to his desk and began writing a response quickly. He was almost through when he heard something outside. He stood up and walked over to the window to see just what the ruckus was; he could see just barely from his window a man with his hand clasped onto a collar of an abnormally overweight teenage boy. Harry recognized the boy as Dudley and a moment later he recognized the man as a police officer. ~*~*~*~  
  
"What the..." Harry began. He couldn't believe it. Was he seeing what he thought he was witnessing? Was that really a police officer on the doorstep of number four, Privet Drive? He was positive that the police officer had gotten the wrong boy. Dudley would have never done anything seriously illegal, would he?  
  
Harry raced from his bedroom keen to find out what was going on. He reached the bottom step just as Aunt Petunia came out the kitchen and bustled over to answer the front door. She looked inquisitive, but at the same time pleasant. It was apparent that she did not know who was waiting along with her son on the other side of the door.  
  
She opened the door and when she saw whom it was she almost choked. "Oh! Erm...hello...is there anything I can..." she paused, because her eyes had fallen on her son who was trying to break free of the mans massive grip. "Erm...whats going on?" she asked instead.  
  
"Mrs. Petunia Dursley of number four, Privet Drive I am Police Officer Arnold Finnigan here to deliver your son Dudley Dursley to you. He was caught vandalizing the sidewall of the Y.M.C.A Children's Learning Center. He and a few pals were spray-painting the words "Liberty is Control" in colored letters. I caught the five of them and everyone that I interrogated said it was in fact his idea and that he's the ringleader of the group. So, with that in mind I decided to walk him home and talk with you the offenses he's facing" explained Police Officer Arnold Finnigan.  
  
"Offenses? He's facing charges Officer" Aunt Petunia squeaked now chalk white.  
  
Even Harry didn't have the nerves to interfere in this; he was standing as still as a pole in disbelief. How could Dudley's friends sell him short like that? He even felt sorry for his cousin Dudley.  
  
"Yes vandalizing public property is a very serious charge. He may be facing time in Juvenile Jail" the officer answered. He released Dudley from his grip and Dudley gratefully ran past the threshold of the front door to hide behind his mother (though he was still as visible as ever).  
  
"But...but..." stuttered Aunt Petunia still apparently have trouble facing the news.  
  
"Here" said Officer Arnold Finnigan handing her a slip, "this is the date of his trial. Make sure you and your husband accompany him. You will need to have a defense of course and he will be tried in front of a full-fledged courtroom. The date is exactly a week from now. You may even have to testify if necessary. If I were you I'd hire a lawyer just to be safe"  
  
And with that Officer Arnold Finnigan turned away and disappeared from view heading back toward his Squad car. A moment later the door had snapped shut and Aunt Petunia had turned away from it looking like stone. She didn't say anything for a moment until she was halfway down the hall.  
  
"You disappointment" she said finally to her son before she pushed the kitchen door open and disappeared behind it.  
  
Harry looked over at Dudley to see what he had to say about this; his cousin was standing quite still as if not knowing what to do or say next. Finally he turned toward the staircase and headed straight up it. Harry thought he would comment something to the fact that he, Harry had overheard everything, but he didn't. He just simply walked around him and continued on his path to his room.  
  
For a moment Harry was actually tempted to go after him, but the sixteen years of loathing of his cousin prevented him. Instead he rushed toward the front door and into the front yard to find out whether Officer Arnold Finnigan was Seamus Finnigan's father. ~*~*~*~  
  
"Wait! WAIT!" Harry yelled coming to a halt on the sidewalk as he watched the officer get into his Squad car. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked politely walking up to the car.  
  
"Yes" said the man shutting his door after all.  
  
"You see...well...this may sound a bit odd, but...well...erm...is your son...does your son go by the name of Seamus Finnigan?" Harry asked him fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves to his shirt. The man didn't seem to understand his question at first until the very end.  
  
"Seamus Finnigan? Why o' course! That's my son! Do you know 'em?" the man asked his voice suddenly becoming that of a Scottish accent (apparently his stern voice was only for police officer duties).  
  
"Yeah, yeah he goes to my school" Harry said simply.  
  
At first the man was baffled before his face dawned with comprehension and he replied, "o' course! You're Harry Potter! Seamus has told me all about you! Then again everyone talks about you o' course! Howya doin' Harry?" he asked merrily, "are your relatives treating you o' right?"  
  
"Erm...decent...anyway so you caught my cousin impairing a wall, did you? How can you be so sure his friends weren't lying to get themselves out of trouble?" Harry questioned in a defensive way.  
  
"I'm sorry Harry but my job o' course is to believe the majority and the majority this time says your cousin is guilty!" he said waving his index finger in the air; Harry couldn't help, but notice the man had sand colored hair just like Seamus did. "Well I must be goin' Harry! See you soon I hope! Bye!" he said waving as he got into his Squad car and pulled out of his parking.  
  
Harry watched him drive off out of view until he decided he better return into the house. He shut the door ready to return to his dark room when he thought he heard shouting coming from the kitchen. Thinking that nothing too important was waiting for him back in his room he edged his way to the door and pressed his ear to it to listen. Behind the door were the screams and shouts of Aunt Petunia and Dudley Dursley. ~*~*~*~  
  
"YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" Dudley roared. "You shut your mouth" his mother said her voice trembling unbelievably with antagonism and most likely disappointment beyond words. "Don't you tell me to shut my mouth! You don't know, nor understand anything!" Dudley yelled.  
  
Harry listened in surprise to find out how deep Dudley could talk verbally; he had never heard his cousin speak so verbally and powerfully before; it was astonishing. It was a few moments before Harry realized his feet were automatically moving him closer to the door, longing to push it open and watch the argument from first sight.  
  
"I understand everything! You have brought shame on this family! Shame! I never, never thought you'd do something so...so...embarrassing!" she bellowed loudly as if unafraid (for once) to be overheard by the neighbors. "Is that all you care about? Being embarrassed mother? YOU CARE ABOUT YOUR IMAGE MORE THAN YOU CARE ABOUT YOUR SON!" he barked so deafeningly Harry's ears were ringing slightly; he had never heard people argue like this, especially the Dursley's.  
  
"Get out of my face" she whispered so loudly that if it were any noisier it would have been a soft shout. "I will" he spat, "and don't expect me to look back"  
  
The next second the kitchen door burst open (narrowly missing Harry's nose, because he had moved out the way just in time) and Dudley strode from the hallway and up the steps torridly. Harry watched after him blinking quite blankly. What was he to do now?  
  
A few moments later he walked back up to his room in total silence honestly curious to find out what was going to happen in four hours when Vernon Dursley returned home from a long day at work, only to discover his son had made a complete and total mockery of the Dursley surname. ~*~*~*~  
  
Indeed the four hours dragged. Harry amused himself by tossing an old green ball at the wall for entertainment; it got quite dull after five minutes, but there was nothing else left to resort to. Harry didn't hear a single peep out of Dudley, Petunia, or even the world. It seemed everyone knew about the incident and therefore were all hushed up about it.  
  
"This has to be the dullest summer," Harry muttered under his breath as he caught the green ball into his hand and peered around his room for some sort of other entertainment. His emerald eyes spotted his leather bound photo album sticking out of the bottom of his mattress.  
  
Harry stood up and walked over to pick it up, keen to reminisce on some of the memories rather than stay bored throwing an old chew toy for Ripper the dog, at the wall. Harry sat down in a corner of his room and opened the book eager to see pictures of himself, Ron, Hermione, his parents, and many others he knew.  
  
A slight grin spread across his face when he saw a picture of his mother holding him as a baby in her arms with his father beaming gallantly as he put his arm around her lovingly; he liked to just sit still and watch his parents in photos. It was as if he were sitting there with them; there was nothing he enjoyed more.  
  
He turned the page and now watched in amusement at an old school photo of James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew laughing as they walked across the lawns; this was obviously taken by one of their many admirers and sent to Hagrid in first year when he had contacted their old friends and admirers from their school days.  
  
Harry looked through the photos for a full hour before he realized the car door of Vernon Dursley had slammed and there was the beep of his alarm. Harry snapped shut the album and stood up fervent to find out what happened next in the Dursley's new nightmare.  
  
Apparently Vernon Dursley already knew about his son's run in with the law, because the moment he slammed the door shut he roared, "DUDLEY GET YOUR BUM DOWN HERE! NOW!" A second later there was the noise of thundering footsteps as Dudley went down to obey his father.  
  
Harry gave in to inquisitiveness and followed in a stealthy way, stopping just out of sight and lurking in the shadows of the hall so that he could keep his eyes on the Dursley's.  
  
"What do you want?" Dudley asked coldly crossing his arms and staring at his father toughly. "What do I want? BOY I NEED TO SPEAK TO YOU!" Uncle Vernon bellowed his face turning a nasty plum (the color it always turned whenever he had a run in with magic). "Then make it quick" Dudley growled; Harry was astonished to hear him speak that manner.  
  
"Come here boy" Vernon said grabbing Dudley and pulling him away from Aunt Petunia, "we need our privacy!" Aunt Petunia nodded and bustled off into the kitchen without a single word; Harry turned his attention away from his Aunt and looked over at his cousin and his uncle.  
  
"You listen to me boy" Vernon whispered apparently unaware that Harry was overhearing, "we've had this discussion before. Stop trying to assimilate yourself with them. You are different from their kind. I have told you this before! DO YOU HEAR ME BOY?"  
  
Harry frowned slightly. He had no clue what Uncle Vernon was talking about; but apparently, judging by the look on his face, Dudley knew what his father meant. ~*~*~*~  
  
There was silence for a moment. Apparently Dudley didn't want to respond. "I said, 'did you hear me boy'?" he growled. Dudley still didn't reply; Harry was burning with curiosity. He was dying to know what they were talking about! Who was Dudley trying to assimilate himself with?  
  
"This is the last time I'm asking you" Vernon said in a low voice, "do you understand me?" Dudley nodded slowly to show that he indeed did comprehend what his father was telling him. Uncle Vernon nodded and said in a low voice, "I told you its for your best...you don't belong with them...its best to take the safe road"  
  
He walked around his son and disappeared into the kitchen where his wife had a few moments earlier. Dudley sighed audibly before he turned toward the stairs and started up them. Harry didn't have a chance to duck out of sight before Dudley had spotted him. When he did he froze on the stair with his foot hovering an inch over the carpeted stair.  
  
"What...what are you doing here?" he asked. "I forcibly live here during the summer" Harry answered smartly crossing his arms, "so what was that whole scene about? And why exactly did you get escorted by a police officer in the first place?"  
  
Dudley rolled his eyes at Harry before he went around him on his journey back to his room; Harry wasn't going to give up that easily, he followed Dudley up into the hallway.  
  
"What's the matter? Why aren't you answering me?" Harry questioned curiously, "what has you getting arrested for vandalism have anything to do with staying away from people that you don't belong to?" "Shut up, shut up! I'm warning you Harry! JUST SHUT UP!" Dudley roared turning around and facing Harry; his face was contorted with full anger.  
  
"Or else what?" Harry asked with a gleeful and taunting expression, "or else what Dudley, huh? What are you going to do about it if I don't hush up? I'd like to see you try and make me now"  
  
Harry wasn't afraid of Dudley and he felt he didn't really need a reason to be anymore. He was no longer the short and very skinny boy he used to be. Besides having magic as his weapon he was more physically in shape than Dudley had ever been; he would have liked to see what Dudley could possibly do to him now.  
  
"You know what" Dudley said cracking his knuckles, "I will right now...I'm angry and I need someone to take out everything on...since that little snot face Mark Evans isn't around you're the perfect candidate!" "Wow Dudley I'm impressed, you managed to go a whole few seconds without pausing to think up of my words" Harry teased; he was trying to provoke him so much so that he'd have to crack on what exactly was happening. Dudley took a step closer ready to attempt to take out all his frustrations on Harry when a loud shout from the floor below could be heard.  
  
It was Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. They were apparently having an argument. The first argument Harry had ever heard them have. "If it weren't for you and your genes we wouldn't be in this whole mess!" Uncle Vernon roared at his wife. "ITS NOT MY FAULT THE BOY IS STRAYING OUT OF OUR CONTROL!" Aunt Petunia screamed back, "I can't control it! We must have known this would happen sooner or later!" ~*~*~*~  
  
Harry wanted to hear more of the Dursley's wrangle, but it seemed they had come to their senses and had retreated into raged silence. Dudley's irate desire to strike up a fight with Harry appeared to have evaporated, for he slouched down the hall and into his room. Harry stood there for a brief moment in bemusement at how quickly things had gone from blazing tension to idiosyncrasy stillness.  
  
After a few seconds of standing in the middle of the hall, he turned toward his bedroom feeling quite downhearted; he had been so looking forward to discovering what was going on at last and just like that everything had been skirted once more.  
  
He shut the door commencing absolute darkness inside his bedroom so that the only light was that of the street lamps fissuring through onto the ledge of his windowsill. He had now returned once more to his room, left to question all and ponder everything. This seemed to happen ever year as if it were some sort of tradition to keep him in the dark.  
  
"Was Uncle Vernon talking about Dudley's friends?" Harry pondered aloud to himself as he paced the length of the room. "Whom was he talking about? I just don't get it, how could Aunt Petunia have known this would happen? For once it seems Privet Drive has some secrets," Harry said stopping at the window and peering down onto the Dursley's perfectly cut lawn.  
  
A sudden thought floated into Harry's mind while watching their next-door neighbor Malone Erickson check his mailbox for mail. What was Seamus Finnigan's father doing patrolling the streets of Little Whinging? Harry never knew he worked near Privet Drive; Seamus had never mentioned it.  
  
"This is totally insane" Harry growled pulling away from the window and stopping instead next to his bed. "How long is this summer going to last?" he shouted out of exhaustion from lack of information. He hadn't even been at Privet Drive for a month and he knew he still had a few more weeks left there to stay; he couldn't see how the summer could protract any longer. He felt as if he hadn't seen Ron and Hermione in ages. Harry questioned if he would turn nineteen before the next time he caught even a glimpse of his friends again. ~*~*~*~  
  
The day of Dudley's trial finally dawned upon them. The Dursley's had been behaving in the most bizarre manner ever before. They no longer dined together in the dining room, but Uncle Vernon stayed working late into the nights and by the time he arrived home there were leftovers freezing in the fridge. Dudley seemed to have lost his appetite (as hard as it was to believe) and Aunt Petunia's only meal seemed to be her tongue.  
  
On the day of the trial Uncle Vernon had called in 'sick' for work and instead of eating breakfast, he drank half a bottle of brandy in three gulps; Dudley remained to be seen, and apparently was taking supreme refuge in his bedroom until the time they had to leave their house. Aunt Petunia was trying to act as if nothing were wrong by scrubbing and spraying the house with cleansers twice as much as she routinely would.  
  
This left Harry to witness them all in a not so frolic state as the hour of the trial grew closer. Finally at half past ten Uncle Vernon capped the bottle of brandy and stood up, straightening his tie. Aunt Petunia told him to try and make it back before dinner, but he apparently ignored her.  
  
Shortly after Dudley left his room and followed his father outside to the car never even saying half a word to his mother. Harry waited until the rumbling engine's sound died out outside before he became visible, and stepped out from behind the hall cabinet.  
  
Aunt Petunia had decided to take the opportunity to do even more housework and immersed herself in vacuuming the carpet. Harry knew what he was going to do; he had to ask her just what exactly was going on.  
  
"Get away...I'm busy" she spat when she saw him approach her. "Not yet" he said firmly, "I have a few questions" "Oh, excuse me! You have a few questions! Why in bloody hell would I answer them?" she snarled puckishly to him. "Because you know the answers" Harry told her, "and I want to know what's going on" "You should know by now not everyone gets what they want" she replied, "Now leave me ALONE!"  
  
She disappeared into the kitchen leaving Harry standing just outside facing the blank door. He leisurely turned around and started for the stairs feeling plain hopeless; he'd never discover just what was going on around him. It incensed him, because he knew Privet Drive was concealing something major from him.  
  
The sweltering hot afternoon dissolved into a casual breezy evening as the sky transformed from its fading orange to a gleaming purple. Harry had spent the day rereading all the letters his best friends and Hagrid had ever mailed him, his stomach snarling with hunger. Finally after half past six he could not bare the famine any longer, so he decided to head downstairs and find something to eat.  
  
He had entered the hallway just before the entrance to the kitchen when he heard something; it was a soft weeping sound. Someone was crying inside the kitchen. Step by step Harry inched his way closer to the door his lips forced into a slight frown. Why was Aunt Petunia crying?  
  
Harry pushed the kitchen door open and stepped through trying to act as if he did not hear the wailing sound at all. Aunt Petunia was perched in a corner, squatting down to her knees with her face buried in her hands; she looked up when he entered.  
  
"Get...out..." she choked pointing a shaking finger toward the door. "Why are you crying?" Harry wondered. "N-None of your b-business" she stuttered. "Is it about Dudley?" Harry pondered aloud. "I SAID GET OUT!" she roared shaking with emotional rage. "I won't until you tell me what in the bloody hell is going on?" Harry refused.  
  
Gradually Aunt Petunia stood letting her hands fall from her face and her teary eyes become visible. "Alright" she agreed in a quite cool voice now, "I'll tell you. I think its time you found out anyway" ~*~*~*~  
  
"Time I found out what?" Harry asked, befuddled. "Everything! The secrets that have been hidden and kept by everyone about certain things" Aunt Petunia said sighing greatly; her face was absent of her usual pretentious expressions and now wore a daunted, tired one.  
  
She walked over from where she stood in the corner between the counter and the stove and plopped down into a kitchen chair; Harry decided to follow her and sat down in the chair directly across from her.  
  
"I guess the only place to start is where this all began...well not where it [I]all[/I] began, but where...where my story and your mother's story began. There's something that very few people know about your mother and I" she began quietly. "What?" Harry questioned. "We were only half sisters," Aunt Petunia answered staring at the titled floor.  
  
"Half sisters? How come no one's said anything before?" Harry queried. "No one knows. Only my father and my mother knew, and they're both dead. My parents were having a difficult time in their marriage and they were actually on the brink of getting a divorce. They decided to give themselves a rest, and instead separated. My father left and moved in with his brother while my mother remained where she was. For a few months she was desperately depressed until she met a man by the name of Tom. She almost fell in love with him though he was almost twice her age. She liked him mainly, because he was the ideal type for her: charming, witty, caring, and gallant. Eventually they decided they're relationship was serious enough to have a child. Shortly after that when my mother was pregnant my father Jeb wanted to solve their differences and get back together. My mother Morgana decided it was best for me, to return to her husband"  
  
"But didn't your father Jeb realize she was pregnant with another child?" Harry asked frowning slightly. "He did, but Morgana told him it was his. He believed her. My mother's second child was born, they decided to name her Lily" Aunt Petunia said, tears rounding in her eyes. "Wait...so my mum never knew her real dad, though she thought Jeb was her father?" Harry said still very confused. "Yes. But that's not where it stops" Petunia continued, "so Lily was born and everyone was delighted about her. Our family was going along great. About a year after Lily had learned to walk Morgana got pregnant once more, this time by my father. Jeb named this daughter Kendle Evans. Shortly after they left the hospital, however Kendle passed away when my father was at work. We had a inexpensive funeral, before we all eventually had to move on"  
  
"Wait, did you actually see my other Aunt's dead body? How'd you take it?" Harry questioned frowning. "No. When my father arrived home my mother had already buried her and was waiting to perform the short ceremony...it wasn't much of a funeral" Petunia said, "years later we received a letter from that wretched school of yours, inviting Lily to attend it. For some reason my parents were overly gleeful and that's when they began they're obsessive gloating about the honor it was to have a witch in the family. Of course I couldn't handle them prizing her, I knew I was better than her. Never did my parents seem to agree that I was talented and intelligent, because whatever I did Lily always beat it. We grew up and I moved out the first chance I got. I never talked to my sister after that, I only met her dreadful husband James a few times, but I wanted my distance"  
  
"Wait" interrupted Harry, "what does this have to do with Dudley and the reason you and Uncle Vernon were arguing?" "It's coming up. Well your parents died and they left you in my possession, legally. As you know we took you in and raised you the way we thought was best for you to be raised. But then...then yours and Dudley's eleventh birthdays came around, his being on June 22, and yours being at the end of July. In August is when you received your Hogwarts letter, but little did you know it wasn't the only letter we received from Hogwarts addressed to Privet Drive" Aunt Petunia said, her voice was so low now Harry was straining his ears to catch every word; she still hadn't peered up from the kitchen floor.  
  
"Hang on, hang on! Are you trying to tell me that Dudley received a Hogwarts..." began Harry, but he just couldn't finish. "That's right" Aunt Petunia confirmed, "Dudley received a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" ~*~*~*~  
  
Harry didn't feel that he could quite comprehend exactly what his aunt was telling him. Did this mean that Dudley was a wizard too? If so, why hadn't he ever mentioned it? Harry stared at Aunt Petunia for a moment before he muttered, "d-does this mean Dudley's a...a wizard?"  
  
"No" Aunt Petunia answered, "he is, however a squib. Hogwarts was contacting him to test him. They wanted to see if he had enough magic in him in order to attend basic classes of magic. In the letter they said he wasn't positively classified as a squib, but not quite talented enough to be a wizard. He was sort of stuck between you can say"  
  
"So...so you and Uncle Vernon didn't let him go?" Harry asked. "No" Aunt Petunia replied, "We didn't want our son to be affiliated with your kind. He didn't find out, though. He never knew. He barely found out less than a year ago, he over heard me and Vernon talking about it. We didn't want to tell him, but he had already figured it out. Ever since then when he found out he's been...been acting up"  
  
"Wait...wait I have a few questions" Harry interjected, "firstly how'd you find out about my mum being your half sister?" "After Lily died and my mother Morgana was on her death bed, she confessed it all to me. She also confessed something else" Aunt Petunia said. "What?" Harry asked dying of curiosity. "My sister Kendle...she never died" Aunt Petunia answered. "What do you mean Kendle never died?" Harry asked.  
  
Suddenly Aunt Petunia jumped to her feet, her face no longer worn out with exhaustion, but fuming with rage. "GET OUT! I SAID GET OUT! GO! GO, GET!" she barked pointing a trembling finger at the kitchen door. "But...but why?" Harry asked as his Aunt shoved him toward the door, "why do you want me to..." "OUT! GET OUT! NOW!" Aunt Petunia screamed pushing him over the kitchen threshold and slamming the door straight in his face; the next second he heard her burst into uncontrollable tears. Harry stared blinking blankly at the door, everything he had just learned racing through his thoughts. 


	2. Deception and Reality

Hey my readers, sorry I haven't updated in almost two weeks, but it took me that long to finish the chapter. This chapter basically has a lot of angst through the beginning, and middle, but it does lighten up somewhat towards the end. In this chapter you'll find out more about Dudley and Aunt Petunia, but of course not nearly everything (especially dealing with Aunt Petunia). Anyway, please read and review my story, it would mean everything to me! Okay I'm done babbling. Enjoy! Bye!

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**Chapter Two****  
**_"Deception and Reality" _

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**"I**nnocent" Uncle Vernon said the night they returned from the trial, "he was found innocent! We only had to pay a fee, but that's all right! As long as hardly anyone found out about the...the incident" He slapped his hands together and looked around the hallway avidly. "So what's for dinner?" he asked looking expectantly at his wife.  
  
"Dinner is at the supermarket Vernon" Aunt Petunia told him as she headed up the stairs, the next second they heard the slam of a door. Uncle Vernon automatically rounded on Harry. "What did you do to her?" he growled.  
  
"I didn't do anything" Harry argued, "Your wife is upset about other things" "The hell she is...I'll find out what in the ruddy name of hell is going on" Uncle Vernon snarled heading up the stairs the fastest his short, and stubby legs could ever manage.  
  
Harry watched him disappear up the steps before he turned around and faced Dudley. "So, hiding anything lately?" he asked his cousin crossing his arms and looking at him with a slight smirk. "Why would you think I'm hiding anything?" Dudley snapped starting for the kitchen out of hunger. "I know you are" Harry told him, "I think I've finally figured out what your worst memory in your life was Dudley"  
  
"What are you rambling about?" Dudley shouted. "I'm talking about last summer! When we encountered the Dementors! You're worst memory was the day you couldn't go to Hogwarts!" Harry roared before he could control himself, "You wanted to go! ALL THIS TIME YOU WERE JEALOUS!"  
  
"I didn't want to go," argued Dudley, "who told you that?" "It came out the mouth of your own mother" Harry countered, "and I believe it! You didn't want to be normal, did you Dudley? You wanted to be different from your parents! I never knew you were so deep Dudley" "LEAVE ME ALONE!" Dudley yelled at the top of his lungs before he broke in a run toward Harry's direction.  
  
Harry thought he was going to try and fight him, but he was incorrect. Instead, Dudley bounded straight for the door, wrenched it open, and disappeared into the darkness outside.  
  
"Dudley! DUDLEY!" Harry called after him predicting that this could only lead to trouble for him, "COME BACK!"  
  
But it seemed that Dudley had long gone from the road of Privet Drive. It even seemed he was going to be leaving Little Whinging; to where, Harry had no idea.  
  
Harry looked over his shoulder quickly debating whether or not he wanted to go after him. He knew that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would blame everything on him if they found out that their son had disappeared shortly after a wrangle between he, and Harry. They would probably kick him out for this one.  
  
Sighing, Harry tore off into the dark after him. The air was still warm and humid as if it were still the scorching, hot summer afternoons, only minus the light from the sun. Harry stopped at the end of the Dursley driveway and listened carefully with his ears as if he were some kind of a watchdog.  
  
He didn't hear any indistinct footsteps meaning Dudley was still nearby somewhere. Dudley must have left the whole block completely; Harry had no idea his cousin could run so swiftly. The only light other than the one coming from the Dursley step was the kitchen light coming from the York's window; he figured the whole street was going to bed by now.  
  
Harry decided that he had to search for Dudley anywhere before the Dursley's noticed he was missing. He decided to go in the direction that led to the park; Dudley always liked to go to the park with his friends.  
  
"Dudley!" Harry called as he started promptly down the sidewalks still keeping his ears on the alert and his eyes as well. "Dudley come back! I didn't mean anything I said" he whispered more to himself than to anyone; the fact of the matter was he didn't know why he had said anything so cruel to Dudley, he had just let his temper get the best of him he supposed.  
  
It was at that moment that he was almost knocked off his feet with such a powerful epiphany; Dudley and him weren't enemies. They were alike in a sense. Both of them had had things kept from them for they're whole life and both of them were feeling anger towards the one person that had kept it from them, Aunt Petunia.  
  
He didn't know how long he had been walking down the shadowy streets as the street lamps flickered in a rowed pattern as if it were some kind of show routine. He didn't realize it at first, but his eyes were burning with tears of anger. He was feeling revolted odium at his Aunt for what she had done, and kept. How could she live with herself knowing the lies and secrets about his mother, Dudley, and himself? He supposed he shouldn't blame her solely, but also Uncle Vernon.  
  
"He doesn't know better...he's just a hypocritical Muggle" Harry muttered under his breath in anger. It had been over two-dozen minutes since he had begun his quest to find Dudley and he discovered that he was nowhere closer to discovering his whereabouts than to discovering what else Aunt Petunia was concealing.  
  
A few more minutes passed, and in return Harry passed a few more blocks. Finally he figured out where his cousin had taken refuge to; it was just outside the YMCA where his 'supposed' crime had been committed.  
  
Harry stopped just next to him and dunked his hands into his pockets casually; he didn't know if he should come off too strongly at first, he didn't want to have to get into another fight with Dudley, who was acting overly sensitive for a bloke his size.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Dudley finally asked. Harry sighed and answered, "you know I didn't think it would be such a good thing if you disappeared just after we had an argument...you know your dear mum and dad might seriously chuck me out if you disappeared...normally I wouldn't mind, but under these circumstances I'm afraid I do"  
  
"Cut the sardonic wit" Dudley whispered just barely audible as he got a good gaze at his feet. "Sardonic? Wow, big word for someone like you. I didn't think you knew any words past the letter C" Harry teased, but a second later he reminded himself that he wasn't supposed to be driving away the person he had just spent the pass forty minutes questing for.  
  
"Very funny! That's what everyone thinks of me, isn't it? That I'm just some kind of blubbering bully, right?" Dudley mumbled, "that I'm not good for anything else, but shaking people upside down for their money or looting around with my gang...I'm just someone everyone's scared of...that's why they all follow me, because they're scared of me. Not because they respect me"  
  
"Wow, it took you that long to notice?" Harry murmured quietly; once again he almost kicked himself for his derisive comments. "What good is power if fear only condemned it?" he asked aloud; Harry didn't say anything, he quite frankly couldn't think of a word to say, even mocking comments seem to have wafted from his mind.  
  
"So she told you about the secret they've been keeping from me?" Dudley questioned suddenly looking over at Harry for the first time. Harry nodded, as he replied, "not by choice I had to almost corner her"  
  
"Of course it wasn't by choice! Nothing's ever by choice from that woman! NOTHING!" he roared, "I could have been something different! I...I could have done something better...better than just pocketing money from poor little blokes at the play yard. What a productive life I've been living? I train nine months of a year to go through a three month tournament where I senselessly pound the snot out of any git who steps in the ring with me...its meaningless"  
  
"Wait, let me get this straight" Harry interposed pointedly, "are you trying to say...say that you're jealous of..." "YOU SHUT UP!" Dudley barked abruptly turning away again, "Just because you were lucky enough to..."  
  
"TO WHAT?" Harry shouted back just as angrily, "A PLACE WHERE DOZENS OF WIZARDS WANT YOU DEAD?" He couldn't help, but shout; he unexpectedly felt the need to express himself as well, explain just how lucky Dudley Dursley had it. "What the hell did I ever do to them? Oh I remember, I survived some incident when I was an infant, too young to know or even care! I survived while accidentally murdering killing the dark lord! And now, because I have a scar on my forehead and some fraud Seer make a Prophecy with my name on it I have to face something alone! And whether or not I win determines the fate of the whole world! Oh yeah Dudley I am the luckiest boy on this earth! I feel so lucky I sometimes pinch myself to see if this is all some magical dream!"  
  
Dudley remained silent; Harry wasn't sure if he was even listening. He had his head bowed and was staring into the moist grass as the lawn sprinklers from the YMCA did its nightly routine spray.  
  
It was then that Harry noticed something. His eyes traveled upward and downward across the YMCA wall and he discovered there was no spray painting that Dudley and his gang had vandalized; he wondered if possibly public services had already done away with the mess.  
  
"What happened to you're graffiti?" he inquired pointing at the wall, which was a plain painted white; the color shone well even for the darkness of the nocturnal night.  
  
"There was no graffiti," Dudley snarled simply before he broke into a quick stride across the grass; Harry followed. "What do you mean there is no graffiti? You went to court for it, didn't you?" he asked keeping up with his cousin. "You don't know what happened" Dudley told him shortly.  
  
"Are you telling me the whole thing was just some kind of hoax?" Harry asked in incredulity, "you all lied to me...again?"  
  
It all seemed to make sense. Of course, why would Arnold Finnigan suddenly be patrolling the streets of Privet Drive, and just so happen to catch Dudley and his gang in a 'supposed' graffiti tagging of the YMCA building? There was something else going on that Harry totally didn't know about.  
  
"Okay, so besides everything else there's something else being kept from me?" Harry said loudly into the night as he and his cousin made they're way across the mushy sod.  
  
"None of the school children around here ever have to worry again" Dudley muttered, "never ever again"  
  
"Why? What's going on?"  
  
A smirk could be seen spreading across Dudley's face through the beams of the moonlight; it looked a bit uncanny. He stopped walking and paused for a moment. The silence of the night was really starting to infuriate Harry.  
  
"Because I don't have people left to help me bully them" Dudley said simply cackling a bit, "they've all abandoned me" "But why? That's just what I don't understand. Why did they abandon you?" Harry questioned feeling as if everything was taking an eternity to get answered.  
  
"Just because" he answered, "it was all a cover up. No one ever vandalized that wall...and I never went to court...at least not the court you thought I went to" "So, you went to another court? Hang on, did you go to a wizarding court?" Harry queried.  
  
"It started that afternoon as I set out across the YMCA field...this field to be exact...my gang and I were just looking for more gits like Mark Evans to torment, but then...something happened" he trailed off.  
  
"What exactly happened?"  
  
"I couldn't control myself. I accidentally...I set Pier on fire by mistake" he said. "How did that happen?" Harry asked frowning, "how'd you set him on fire and what does this have to do with appearing in wizarding court?" "I set him on fire involuntarily...without even stepping close to him...I didn't even have any matches near me" he explained, "we put it out, but...but my friends...they knew something was abnormal about me. You're lots wizarding council knew about it so they sent the two nearest wizards of Little Whinging. One was that Muggle bloke, I dunno why he came, and the other was some witch lady...I think it was his wife..."  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Finnigan" Harry whispered, "They came...Mrs. Finnigan probably charmed every Muggle nearby to not remember a thing and Mr. Finnigan took you back to number four"  
  
Dudley nodded slightly.  
  
"But then how come you had to go to court?" Harry questioned, "They considered that illegal magic? You didn't mean to, right?" Dudley didn't answer for a moment; he seemed to be thinking over something. "Right?" Harry repeated.  
  
"I don't know what I wanted to do at that moment" Dudley confessed, "I was angry...they...they were telling me I had to stop trying to act different from them if I wanted to be leader...they said I had to act tougher, they told me I had been acting weird lately...I was upset"  
  
"So you set him on fire?" Harry said in utter shock, "wait, does this mean you're...you're a wizard?"  
  
"I'm not a wizard! I wasn't magic enough for them to invite me to you're school...I'm stuck between. I'm more talented than a Muggle, and a Squib, but I can't...I can't perform anything voluntarily" Dudley explicated.  
  
"But surely they could have only taught you basic classes?" Harry told him, "Maybe they'll still accept you"  
  
"ARE YOU THICK OR WHAT?" Dudley barked, "My parents would never let me go to a place like that...they'd disown me" "Who cares what they'd do?" Harry said, "it doesn't matter what they think, it doesn't..."  
  
"IT DOES TO ME! IT ALWAYS HAS! You don't know how much pressure my father puts on me!" he yelled his face obscured with red from anger and frustration. He changed his face to a scrunched up expression, exactly like the one Uncle Vernon wore whenever he showed his competitiveness. "You got to do it Dudley! You have to bring praise to the Dursley name! MAKE ME PROUD! You can do it son! You better son! I won't accept failures in this family! YOU HAVE TO DO IT!" he howled in an astonishingly similar voice to what Mr. Vernon Dursley used.  
  
Harry didn't know what to say. At the moment he was still confused greatly, but on the other hand he understood things more clearly. He understood partly why his cousin was the way he was. All these years his father had been pushing so much pressure onto him, finally it seemed Dudley was about to explode from it.  
  
"I can't let him down" Dudley croaked, his voice clearly full of hurt emotion, "I'm the only son he's got"  
  
"You shouldn't be forced to do something you don't want to do just, because you're afraid to disappoint your father. Its you're choice" Harry stated. He exhaled a deep breath and looked up at the sky. "So, what now? Now that we've had the longest and closest talk we've ever had, what do we do now? Are you back to our usual loathing of one another or are we civil?"  
  
"No one can know about this talk" Dudley snarled waving a finger warningly at Harry, "no one can ever know about what happened and what I think...my father doesn't want me to think...he wants me to fight...to box...to bring admiration to our family"  
  
Harry nodded slowly and turned around toward the opposite direction of his cousin. He wasn't going to feel any pity for him if he continued to try and impress his father so badly. "Its you're choice" he said simply shrugging as he disappeared from the view of Dudley, "its you're life..."  
  
Dudley returned to Privet Drive that evening to discover his parents had already dozed off into sleep. Harry arrived a few minutes after him, cautiously stepping inside just in case the Dursley's were waiting to barrage him with shouts and hails as to why he, and Dudley had disappeared at the dawn of night.  
  
Harry shut the door to his bedroom, not full of an ounce of fatigue. In fact, he felt as if he had drained a sack of sugar down in three gulps; he almost grinned at the memory of when Fred and George had done so out of dare from Ron, and a bet placed from Mundungus Fletcher, last summer.  
  
"Okay" he breathed under his breath, "in order to at least understand this I have to start from the beginning. My mum and her sister were mistaken by my grandfather...well he's not my real grandfather now...my mum's mum never told anyone until Petunia...but why did she tell Petunia? And what's so significant about this?"  
  
For a few minutes he considered every possibility until he decided it wasn't worth pondering over. Instead he moved onto the mystery growing around Dudley. Part of him was still stunned at the news about Dudley.  
  
He didn't have much more of an opportunity to say anything more, because he could hear a sudden screeching coming from the outside of his bedroom window. Harry pulled back the curtain and glanced out the window for the source of the noise; he definitely knew it was an owl, but it couldn't be Hedwig, she was in her cage asleep. Sure enough, it was an owl, but whose owl, Harry did not know.  
  
The owl was husky and had dozens of small, frilly feathers outlined around its outlined body. The eyes of the owl peered at Harry for a brief moment before it took flight toward another window, clearly deciding it had the wrong addressee.  
  
"Wait a moment!" Harry exclaimed, "I'm the only one that accepts letters by owl post in this house! Aren't I?" He broke into a fast run toward his door, and took off speedily down the hall. The owl had started in the direction for the family room window.  
  
He entered the room determined to read the letter. For all he knew the letter contained important information. He reached the window just as the owl came into view, dropped the letter, and flew off into the night sky. Harry caught the letter in mid-air, before it could hit the carpet.  
  
"Uh huh" he murmured, "caught you"  
  
"Now, who is this from?" he asked.  
  
"What are you doing?" came a voice from the doorway of the family room.  
  
Harry looked up in alarm to see it was Aunt Petunia, herself. She was clearly taking a mid-night stroll around the house for she still had her pastel bathrobe on and her hair was pinned back with rollers.  
  
"It's n-nothing. It's for me," Harry answered standing up and hiding the letter behind his back. He knew he must look a bit obvious, especially since his eyes couldn't look straight into her brown ones.  
  
"Uh huh...if that's so then why didn't the damn owl deliver it to your room?"  
  
"Because...because it didn't know, which room was my bedroom...you see this owl has never delivered here so it doesn't know any better...you know how silly owls can be sometimes, especially ones that aren't trained up to quality" he rambled.  
  
"Let me see that letter" she said suddenly, "now"  
  
"It's my letter..."  
  
"NOW!"  
  
"No" Harry replied defiantly, "Why should I have to have my mail read as if I'm a common criminal? I have a right to privacy and if I don't want you to see who my letter is from I shouldn't have to"  
  
"Are you flouting me?" Aunt Petunia questioned, her jaw slightly dropped, "are you refusing?"  
  
"Yes, I am"  
  
"I have had enough," she growled, suddenly shaking with rage, "I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR ATTITUDE! YOU'RE DISRESPECT! YOU'RE DEFIANCE! Either you give me that letter now, or you are packing your bags!"  
  
"Hmmm...let me think that over...I'll be packing my bags then" Harry remarked tidily, "I don't have to obey you anymore either! Whatever the hell you're hiding about my mum, I don't care! I don't care about any of you three people! You all need help!"  
  
"Ha!" she shrieked stridently.  
  
Harry stopped on his way out of the room, and turned around to face Aunt Petunia again. "Oh and one more thing dear Auntie" he began, curling his hands into fists, "I don't believe for one second you took me into your home, because you loved me...I don't believe it for one tenths of a second even...you're an awful woman, and you're filled with jealousy and revulsion and you'll never change...NEVER!" With that he spun around and strode toward the exit.  
  
"Oh sure!" she wailed raucously, dropping down onto her knees, "everyone hate Petunia! Everyone blame Petunia! Everyone ignore Petunia! GO ON, GO! I don't care what you think about me anyway...I don't need the opinions of you to validate the incorruptibility of my conscious! I don't want you here anyway, I don't ever want to look into those ghastly horrible emerald eyes and remember the woman that graced the same shape and color of them! And I certainly don't want to see that shaggy, black hair replicated from the boy she 'supposedly' fell in love with! NEVER do I want to see you...never..."  
  
"Yeah, well you won't have to!"  
  
"Story of my life! I'm always the evil one, right? I'm always the bad one, right? It's always me! Yes, I am the villain! I am the terrible soul that conceals the secrets you yearn to discover! It's all on me," she sobbed into her hands.  
  
"Look," sighed Harry, "you're not that terrible of a person, but...I just wish you'd tell me exactly what kind of secrets you're hiding"  
  
"Oh yes, now you'll talk to me, right? When you think I'm on the verge of spilling something great, you'll be nice and polite and proper to me, eh?" she yowled, looking up at him with puffy eyes, from her hands.  
  
"Suit yourself, but as long as you harbor things like that to yourself, everyone's going to continue thinking the same"  
  
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT TO KNOW FROM ME?"  
  
"What happened the day Dudley 'allegedly' got arrested?"  
  
"Why do you want to know about that?" she questioned, "it doesn't concern you at all. I thought you'd ask something about you're mother, or along the lines of relation to you...not about him..."  
  
"You don't love him as much as before, do you? Now that he actually wants to be a part of the wizarding world...you're ashamed of him...what kind of mother are you?" Harry retorted, "You are truly appalling"  
  
"Fine! If the truth is what you want me to tell you, it's what you'll get" she said, slowly standing straight, "I'm going to hurry this up before Vernon or Dudley find out we're talking...they haven't noticed anything yet, because they are both quite heavy sleepers"  
  
"Okay"  
  
"Ever since Dudley found out that Vernon and I have been lying to him about being a half-wizard, he's been trying to force more magic into him...he's been trying to study the books you've left over from you're first year...his father and I have been trying to prevent him doing this, but he seems to have gotten around us somehow...he began to act weirder by the day, even his friends were noticing. The morning you thought he was arrested Dudley and I had a fight..." she explained.  
  
"Oh yeah, I remember hearing something while I was sleeping" interrupted Harry.  
  
"He was furious when he left with his friends to do their daily pillaging. Dudley can only use his m-magic when he's in a high temper...he accidentally"  
  
"Set Pier Polkiss on fire" finished Harry.  
  
"Talking about me eh?" said Dudley Dursley from the doorway; his face was half shaded over from the darkness of the hall, and the only part of it that was showing looked ethereal. "Having a nice conversation about me...well don't stop at my appearance...continue mummy"  
  
Aunt Petunia looked as if she were about to faint at that moment. Her shaking hand quickly reached for her face to wipe away the tears that had escaped her eyes. She reached into the pocket of her pastel bathrobe and pulled out a tissue to wipe her very pink nose. "Erm...Dudley dear...how about mummy fixes you breakfast right now? A platter of bacon, pitcher of orange juice, pan full of eggs...ah yes perfect idea, isn't it?" she asked in a falsely cheery voice.  
  
"I don't want any of you're breakfast! Save it! Do you honestly think I am that stupid? That I don't know what you're talking about?" Dudley shouted at his mother in disbelief, "you honestly think I'm an idiot, don't you?"  
  
"Oh, of course not Duddy darling! Now come, let mummy feed you," she said blissfully walking over to her son and grabbing his elbow to pull him along. She went to leave the room, but there was a problem; Dudley hadn't moved an inch, and since Aunt Petunia was holding onto his arm, she couldn't move. It was as if she was grabbing onto a metal pole planted into the ground and had just tried to pull it out of the floor.  
  
"I said, I don't want any of you're breakfast!" Dudley growled, looking at his mother fiercely.  
  
She let go of his arm sheepishly and decided to hide her hands behind her back better. For a brief instant she looked on the verge of some sort of apology. However, it seemed a second later she caught herself, and regained her full optimism. "Dudley dearest, please" she whispered, "please"  
  
Dudley stared right into her hopeful brown eyes a few seconds, thinking. "No" he replied finally, "I won't". He wrenched his arm out of her grasp and left the family room without another look back.  
  
Once again Aunt Petunia was overcome with trembles of feeling, as tears poured back down her pale, bony cheeks, and her eyes rounded on Harry. "Y- You" she stuttered greatly holding up a wobbly index finger aimed at Harry, "it's all on y-you"  
  
"Me?" Harry repeated incredulously, "ME? Are you insane? It isn't me! It's you! This is all your fault, you and that husband you married! Everything is your fault! And now when things aren't going normal like you always want, you can't handle it! Like I said before, I'm out of here!"  
  
"HOW DARE YOU CHILD? I took you into my home! I treated you like a son! I gave you everything I could! EVERYTHING!" she screeched wildly; strands of her hair were falling down from their rollers.  
  
"You never gave me anything, but a life of being ignored as a child, no friends, and a miserable existence! And now you expect me to feel sorry for you! Ugh! It never ends with you, does it?" he yelled turning red with anger himself.  
  
"Alright, alright...lie why don't you? LIE! Get out of my house...when the sunrises I expect to see you out of here you dreadful, dreadful boy! Go pack your bags and expect to never come back here! I mean it! Next summer when that freak school of yours lets out, you best not think you'll come right back here for the holiday! Oh no, you are not! I want to forget all about you! All about your father and your little mother, you're little perfect mother! GET OUT OF MY LIFE! ALL OF YOU!" she shrieked insanely leaning against the nearest wall and sliding down until she reached the carpet. Her hair had now fully fallen from the rollers and she was spitting everywhere with each word she spoke.  
  
Harry didn't say anything, but just walk slowly to the door again passing her like nothing. He was onto the first few steps of the stairs when she poked her head out and around the wall so that it was hanging over midair in the hallway.  
  
"You have nothing to say to me, boy? Nothing?" she cackled strangely.  
  
Harry looked back at her coldly, his emerald eyes alive with a dull spark. "No" he answered simply and calmly, "I don't...because you are nothing to me"  
  
Within an hour Harry had finished packing everything. Though he was quite silent throughout all his packing, he was feeling a pang of panic travel through his chest. He was very eager to leave Privet Drive, but the problem for him was where he was to go. He thought about locating the Knight Bus again to get to the Leaky Cauldron so that he could reside there, but he wanted to make contact with someone he knew first.  
  
"The Weasley's" he whispered picking up a quill that he had left sprawled across his desk. He dipped the tip in ink and had begun his first sentence when there was a loud thump at the window. Someone had thrown a rock at it.  
  
"What the..." drifted off Harry walking over to the window. He lifted the latch and pulled the window open to look out; the dark, night sky was turning a pale pinkish orange. He tore his eyes away from the wonderful sky and onto the front lawn of the Dursley's. He couldn't believe who was standing there, holding a handful of rocks with their neck craned upward toward his window.  
  
"Mrs. Figg" Harry began.  
  
"Shhh...boy! Are you mad? Pack everything and get down the street quickly! C'mon now! Chop! Chop!" she said as quietly as she could manage, while at the same time getting Harry to hear her.  
  
Harry nodded. He shut his window and ran over to his Hogwarts trunk and Hedwig's cage. It was a bit difficult for him to lift it, but all the same he managed. Once he was at the front door of the house, setting down Hedwig's cage so that he could turn the doorknob he heard a rumbling of footsteps come crashing down the stairs.  
  
"YOU JUVENILE! PUT HER BACK! NOW! WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU DO TO MY WIFE! I DEMAND THAT YOU...WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING?" Uncle Vernon roared in a ramble, stopping at the sight of Harry standing in front of the front door with his trunk, and putting on a rather perplexed expression.  
  
"I'm leaving and I didn't do anything to your wife! She was like that since the day she was born! I think it's a birth defect" Harry teased wrenching the door open finally and dragging his trunk outside, shortly followed by Hedwig's cage.  
  
Uncle Vernon stepped closely up to the door still staring at Harry in bemusement. He looked as if he were about to say something; at last discovering his voice again, but Harry beat him to it.  
  
"Have a good life...porky sir" Harry said in a polite voice shutting the door in Uncle Vernon's puzzled face.  
  
Harry walked down the sidewalk pulling his belongings with him, feeling somehow freed. For the past sixteen years of his life he had had to endure difficulty from the Dursley's, he was made to return to them every summer, and deal with their neglect, but now he was gone! No longer was he to go back to that annoyingly perfect clean home, the cruelty of his Aunt, and be excluded from the magical world.  
  
The wind blowing gently through the air made Harry's headache drift away, and put a sort of calmness in his mood. He was getting a good glance around at the streets of Privet Drive, for he knew he would no longer have to see them, which was a happy enough thought to help him conjure a Patronus any day.  
  
"There you are!" Mrs. Figg said once he had stopped shortly in front of her lawn. She had been peeking nervously out of her kitchen window, obviously waiting for him. "Come, come..." she beckoned, "come inside now...the doors unlocked...I've been waiting for you...I was walking dear Dominos and while passing by your house I could hear some shouts...I knew instantly what was happening. We have already arranged a quick exit for you into the magical world Harry, don't worry"  
  
"Why were you walking Domino? I mean, cats don't need to be walked, do they?" Harry asked in curiosity.  
  
"Oh, but Domino does...he gets gassy during the late night and sometimes he needs to walk it off...I usually walk him just before sunset...look I even bought him a little leash...it's a dog leash, but he never notices the difference, do you Domino my baby?" she explained kneeling down and petting Domino gently on the head.  
  
Harry normally would have been a good sport and try to pet the cat, but Domino was staring straight at Harry, one of his eyes half closed, but the other seemed to be threatening Harry in some sort. He reminded himself that though Mrs. Figg thought all of her cats were absolute wonderful babies, they weren't.  
  
"Anyway" she said standing again and clapping her hands, "you can't stay here or that would be awful suspicious...we decided to have you travel by Portkey...don't worry Harry, I'm sure where you're going you'll like...its only temporary until we can get you over to the Weasley's. Maybe about a day or two...anyway you know what to do...grab onto that old cat liter bag...no, no its not dirty now...grab firmly onto it...its leaving in exactly sixty seconds, have a safe trip Harry...oh and don't worry about your things...they'll be there by the time you get there...I've been practicing magic see from this Kwikspell Agency, great people. I know how to perform simple spells you know, impressive for a Squib, I know. Now, where is that wand of mine...aha found it! Oh no...that's a pen...my blunder haha, let me see"  
  
Harry watched her quite unsure what to say. He wasn't positive if he trusted Mrs. Figg, especially if she had made the Portkey he was about to travel with. He was about to suggest him traveling by Floo Powder better, because then at least he would be in charge of whether or not he made it to his destination, but just then Mrs. Figg found her wand.  
  
"I should have remembered I put it there...I also use it sometimes to stir the batter of my cakes...great stirring power, wands. Do you wand some cake?" she asked courteously.  
  
"No! No, Mrs. Figg...the Portkey..." he said.  
  
"Oh yes...okay now...still holding onto it? Great...ten seconds dear" she told him, "and remember don't let anything your Aunt said to you get to you...don't, remember that"  
  
"What...why would I..." Harry asked in a sort of surprised scream, because at that moment the Portkey had reached one and he had been lifted from the floor and spun around speedily into a swirl of all the colors you'd see in a rainbow. His mind left his body for a moment, traveling slower than his body was. He was thinking all about his summer and just exactly what Mrs. Figg meant about not letting anything Aunt Petunia said get to him. 


End file.

Harry Potter, Adventure