- Harry Potter and the Binding Book of Spells -

Disclaimer: I own none of the original Harry Potter characters, they are all copyrighted and created by the author of the series, the respectable J.K Rowling. I own nothing besides this story plot.

Chapter 1 – The Letter

The sun was already gleaming over the houses belonging to a small town in England. It's warm amber rays touching the town called Little Whinging, and eventually hitting the house marked Number Four Privet Drive, causing one of the houses inhabitants to awake with a start.

A young man by the name of Harry Potter flipped the covers off of his body, and pushed himself out of his bed. His untidy coal black hair was matted to his face from the cold sweat rolling down his temples, and his emerald green eyes were searching around the room.

"Potter!" called a voice from downstairs. There was an uproarious noise that sounded like a train bulleting through the house, but then he realized that it must have been his cousin, Dudley Dursley, screaming delightfully as he realized what this day was. Today (unfortunately for Harry), was Dudley's birthday. He was now 16, and taking advantage of it.

"Where are my presents?" asked Dudley, looking around the room with great anticipation. He was starting to jump around, which Harry wished he wouldn't do, because he was trying to get dressed, and the jumping around made the house shake. Harry viewed Dudley as an overgrown walrus bull... he was surely big enough around the middle.

Harry looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. He had grown about another inch, and instead of being skinny and shabby, he had grown a lot more mature, and muscular in build. He still however, was on the skinny side, and Harry, who knew too well, was how he was always going to be. As he looked into the mirror, he thought about his past year at Hogwart's School, and all that happened. Sirius would have been proud... oh how he missed him.

Harry shook his head and figured he should not think about the past... it was too hurtful. Everything good in Harry's life... was slowly starting to slip away...

Harry left his mirror, and slowly went down the stairs, eyeing Dudley just as he was eyeing him. He knew that the Dursley's (all three of them) were afraid of him, ever since Remus Lupin, and old friend of Harry's father, threatened them at the end of his year at Hogwart's.

Harry's fingers traced the wooden railing as he walked slowly down the stairs. He hated this home... he wanted to be with Sirius... in his home... like the family he always wanted.

"What are you doing, Potter?" asked a voice that belonged to Vernon Dursley, snapping Harry quickly out of his daydream. He, apparently, was still upset at what happened last year with the Dementors, but Petunia (and for good reason), didn't even try to remember...

"Thinking," replied Harry, as he told the truth, "about how much I hate this place."

Harry watched as Vernon's head turned a bright pink, and his eyebrows tilted to the side. For Harry in the old days, this was the sign of a punishment, but now, it was considered nothing. Vernon couldn't do anything to Harry now... teachers were constantly keeping a close eye on him, and members of the wizard group called the Order of the Phoenix.

"Vernon," whispered Petunia, as she handed a small present to Dudley, "please..."

Vernon glared at Harry and then sat in the chair next to Petunia. His face now was not hoarse at all, but instead, looked just as happy as his sons' did. "Here you go Dudley," said Petunia, as Dudley grabbed the small envelope out of her hand. "Open it."

Harry watched as Dudley opened the small, yellow envelope with a mixture of curiosity and unknowing on his face. Harry quietly laughed as Dudley struggled to open it, and leaned over to get a better look when he finally did.

"Tickets..." whispered Dudley, under his breath, holding the three light blue tickets in his hand. "To where?"

"They're to-" Before Vernon could finish his sentence, the light blue tickets started to glow a faint yellow in color, and, to Harry's delight, a few seconds later, they were glowing ever brighter. It was when they looked yellow in color where Dudley started screaming in fright, or rather; shrieked in fright. He dropped the tickets, and then backed away. He was holding his hands to his stomach, which was nothing more than an overlarge deposit of fat, and moaning in pain.

"Dudley Diddlykums!" yelled Petunia, as she ran to her son and looked at his hand. Harry, wanting to know what happened, went over to him as well. To his surprise, the tickets caused his hands to enlarge and swell, and for the worst of it, small blisters were starting to form on his hands.

"It was him!" screamed Dudley, pointing at Harry. The only thing that would ease his pain was to see Harry getting blamed for something he really didn't do. A smile formed over Dudley's pudgy cheeks, but soon disappeared into them.

Vernon, whom was standing over the tickets, looked at Harry with a face of hatred. "No, no, I swear," said Harry, backing up into the wall, "I had nothing to do with that!"

Petunia was looking at Dudley's hand with a look of fear and horror on her face. She then looked at her husband, whom was advancing on Harry with folded fists.

"Don't come any closer," said Harry, putting his hand over his pocket, which held his wand. Vernon, who didn't adhere to this warning, went closer and grabbed Harry by the shoulders.

"What-did-you-do?!" asked Vernon, shaking Harry after every word spoken. "I didn't do anything! You saw me! I was just standing there, minding my own business!" yelled Harry, struggling against his uncle's tight grip.

"Look!" yelled Dudley, staring at the now all-yellow tickets that were starting to vibrate on the ground. "What're they doing?"

All of a sudden, the tickets jumped up into the air, as if being controlled by magic; and started to rip apart into small pieces. After they ripped apart, the pieces started to fall slowly down back onto the ground, and as they hit, they disappeared.

Vernon, who gripped Harry even tighter, looked into his emerald eyes. "OUT WITH IT, BOY!" he spat in Harry's face. Harry, of course, wasn't going to take that. With some force, he pushed Vernon away from him and looked into Vernon's eyes.

"How can I come out with it when I didn't even have anything to do with it!" he yelled, making Petunia and Dudley fall into the chair. "I had nothing to do with this, and honestly, I praise whoever did have something to do with it, because they did what I wanted to do for nearly 5 years now. I'm going up to my room, don't bother me, and don't say anything about me."

With a small pat on his pocket insuring that his wand was in there in full view of the Dursley's, and a small grin, he slowly walked upstairs and into his room, closing the door behind him. He pressed his ear to the door, and was happy to hear absolutely nothing going on down stairs. The Dursley's, apparently taking his warning to heart, sat down there, not moving a muscle.

Harry, feeling a lot better, went to his bed and sat down. He put his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling of his room. He started to daydream about Hawaii; the nice warm weather, the gleaming, calm oceans, and most of all, the fun...

He started to think about Dudley in Hawaii... surely someone would think he was a beached whale, and call Animal Control. That thought brought a smile to his face. How could Vernon and Petunia Dursley even let their son go through that much humiliation? He was always considered to be their little 'Dudleykims'...

"Potter," came a voice from downstairs. Harry rolled off of his bed and opened his bedroom door, to see Dudley standing there, his hands numb to his side (or what Harry thought to be his side, he really couldn't tell with all of that fat...), frowning up at him. For once, Harry thought he looked like the innocent boy Mr. and Mrs. Dursley have always said he was... but that changed when Dudley looked back up at Harry with anger. "Mum wants you to help repair my hands!"

Harry, with a small smile on his face, didn't answer. "Well?" asked Dudley, coming up the stairs so he was face to face with Harry. "Well, Dudley, I would love to help repair them," he lied, "but... I can't, so sorry."

"Why?" asked Dudley, tramping on Harry's foot, and turning red.

"Because I can't do Magic out of, what you call it, the 'freak place'. Unfortunately for you, this 'freak' place is the only place where you'll be healed... but then again, you don't want to be healed by a 'freak', that uses magic, do you?" Harry looked at Dudley with a look of triumph.

There was no time for Dudley to remark, because the doorbell that just rang was echoing through their ears. Harry and Dudley both ran down (Dudley rather... walked down) the stairs, and saw that Petunia was at the door, chatting non-stop. She made room so the woman whom she was talking to could enter.

"Dudley! My Little (Harry wondered is she was looking at the same Dudley he was, because he was not, by far little) Man!" yelled the woman, opening her arms so Dudley could give her a hug. She kissed Dudley on both cheeks, leaving a fresh imprint of red lipstick on both of his cheeks.

"Auntie Marge!" screamed Dudley, showing his aunt his hands, "look at what Potter did to me!"

To Harry's horror, Aunt Marge's cold eyes drew their attention to him. Just as Vernon, Marge got the same shade of bright red, and looked at Harry with the same threatening eyes. Marge looked at him with fury, and shook a meaningful fist at him, but then stopped suddenly. She didn't want to inflate again, just as she did with her last encounter with him. Instead, she started talking.

"You shouldn't take out your anger on Dudley... it's not his fault your parents were youngin's whom didn't know what they were getting into. Your father was a young, immature man, and your mother... your mother had bad taste in men. Don't take this anger out on the only family that would take you in, and give you a roof over your head. They feed you, give you clothes, and raised you for the past 15 years."

Harry's fury rose at the hearing of those harsh words. "First of all, I'm not angry. Second of all, get a clue... I had nothing to do with what's happening with his hands. Third of all, realize that Dudley is a liar, a filthy liar whom always gets his way if he cries, and cries... and cries some more. Ain't that right Dudley?"

Dudley dropped the piece of toast he was starting to eat, pieces of it still dangling out of his mouth. He turned to his mother, whom was looking at Marge. Aunt Marge cursed silently under her breath, but Harry could hear words like 'ungrateful', 'stupidity', and 'thankful'.

Harry looked down at his feet, and wondered about what Aunt Marge said. Maybe she was right... after seeing what his father did to Snape in Hogwarts from the pensieve, he lost all faith in his father; maybe he was immature...

Harry stood there, lost in his own memories and the pictures of his parents flashing through his mind. He used to be so happy he was considered to be a stunning impression of his father... but now, he wished he wasn't. In fact, he didn't even think he had anything to say back to Marge about his father. Silence overcame the four of them, until Petunia broke it.

"Here Harry," she said, giving him a slice of toast, "go up to your room and eat this. Go on."

Harry, amazed on how kindly she talked to him, obeyed, and walked up the stairs once again. As he looked back, he could see that Dudley was just as amazed as he was with his mother's kindness, and Harry could tell that by the color he was turning, jealousy was overriding him.

From his bedroom, he could hear Aunt Marge telling Petunia stories about what happened when she talked back like that. Apparently, she was not satisfied with the way Petunia scolded him (she didn't scold him at all, which made her furious), and wanted him to be punished for his rude actions to her. Harry sat there, nibbling on his toast, and listening to their conversation.

After Harry finished his toast, he figured he would go take a walk outside. He casually made his way out of his bedroom and past Aunt Marge (who was muttering loudly about how bad Harry as behaving), and out of he Dursley household.

Harry hadn't been outside since he came back to Number 4, Privet Drive, and that was a whole month ago. He was happy enough just feeling the heat from the sun warm up his entire body, and almost tasting the sweet air which he breathe.

He looked up at the clear sky (for the past two weeks, they had nothing but rain), and wondered if things in his life were going to get any clearer too... Harry laid on the green grass, and relaxed. He wondered about Ron and Hermione, and how they were doing. They had not wrote to him, but, as he suspected, it was only for his safety. Anyone could intercept letters, and Harry figured that Dumbledore told Ron and Hermione not to send Harry any letters.

Harry sighed deeply. With Sirius gone, and with himself being shunned to the outside world, what was there to be happy about? It was then that Harry knew why Petunia was being so nice to him; there were no 'ruddy birds', which were actually owls delivering mail every now and then. Harry knew it was too good to be true...

Then, as Harry thought, it wasn't long until he was back in the safe walls of his Wizarding School: Hogwarts, and under the careful watch of it's Headmaster; Albus Dumbledore. Then again, if it wasn't for Dumbledore keeping Sirius locked up inside, he might have been still alive today, and Harry might have had a father-like figure...

A tear slowly trickled down Harry's check as he thought of his Godfather. When Sirius died, he took a part of Harry with him. Why, oh why hadn't he used the mirror to check on Sirius? Why had Kreacher taken orders from that horrible lady, Narcissa Malfoy? Even worse, why did Sirius risk his own life when he knew he was so important to Harry?

That last question, of course, had an answer; Love. Although Sirius was not there in body, he was there with Harry in his heart, and that love still lingered on...

After lying there, thinking about his greatly missed School and friends, and his horrible memories of bad times, he slowly pushed himself and went back inside the house. He saw that Petunia, Vernon, and Marge were enjoying a cup of tea while Dudley opened up his present from his Aunt.

Harry watched as Dudley ripped open the small package, flinging the wrapping paper all over the floor (and onto his parents), and then shrieked with delight. Harry watched as Dudley lifted a small puppy out of the box (Harry observed the box and saw that it had air holes in it) carefully.

"That one's a fine, pup!" said Aunt Marge, patting the small puppy on it's head. Harry thought the pup was cute; its short, curved ears, its wet nose, and its golden-brown long fur were just a few properties Harry saw. He could tell it was a Golden Retriever. "Its blood lines are intertwined with my best Stud..." said Marge, looking pleased at herself.

Harry looked at Vernon and Petunia Dursley, whom looked taken aback. They were looking at the pup and then back to each other. Harry, who had enough of this happiness ("Dudley didn't deserve a dog."), walked back upstairs, and once again, into his room. He looked toward his desk where Hedwig was sitting in her cage, trying to stretch out her wings, to no avail.

"I wish I could let you out, Hedwig," said Harry opening her cage and letting her sit on his arm, "but if Vernon finds out, he might not even let me keep you up here." "How about you fly around my room for a while? At least you can stretch out your wings," he said, giving her an owl treat. She hooted joyfully, and started to fly.

After a while, she landed back onto Harry's arm and nipped him playfully. Harry pet her on her head and then went to his desk, to get another owl treat for her. He was stopped by a scream coming from downstairs, and Harry set her down softly in her cage, and then ran out of his room, and peered down the stairs.

Petunia was still screaming loudly, and Dudley (clutching his dog) was looking into the direction of the fireplace with fear. Aunt Marge, whom was hiding behind Vernon, looked over to Harry and sneered. Harry walked downstairs, and looked toward the fireplace...

Amazed and bewildered, Harry looked on at the face of Remus Lupin, burning in the embers and flames of the fire. His face seemed a lot better than at last appearance; his hair (although you could not tell the color) looked to be more full, and combed out, his face, was not sullen; but instead, marked the distinguishable features of his youth - his smile shone brightly even through the embers of the fire, and his chocolate eyes peered happily at Harry, small glints of light illuminating them.

Harry peered at him, his smile gazing longly at Remus, wanting to know why he was here; right in the middle of the Dursley's household, in the center of the Muggle World.

"Hello there, Harry," said Remus, closing his eyes and smiling even more radiant.

Harry, whom was so excited, couldn't even tell Remus how happy he was to see him. He blurted a quick and happy "'Ello," and then looked over to the Dursley's. They were looking at him with a mixture of confusion and fury all in one. Dudley, of course, was hiding (or trying to hide) behind his father. Marge, whom had her hands folded into a fist, was eyeing Remus coldly.

"Don't worry, Harry," said Remus, breaking the cold silence in the room, "they won't mind that I stopped by to tell you something; as a matter of fact, I think they would be rather pleased."

Remus paused, and took the time to looks at faces of the Dursley's and scowl. "Is this always how they treat company?" asked Remus, shaking his head. "I wasn't even welcomed into this," he stopped and looked around the house, "great home of yours."

Harry, pleased with the way Remus noted that he wasn't even welcomed slowly shook his head. Remus, getting what he was trying to say nodded back. "So, as I was saying," he said, looking over at the Dursley's. Before he could finish, he tilted his head and cast a scowl at Dudley. "My word, you must have a very good appetite- er, anyway, as I was saying," he continued, "I would like to ask permission if Harry can leave this household tomorrow morning at eleven o'clock."

Petunia continued her gaze at him while he was talking through, but put her hand over her mouth when he talked about removing Harry from this house. "But... Dumbledore-"

Remus, who held up his hand and stopped her from speaking, cut her off rather suddenly. "I have a note from Dumbledore right here. If you don't mind, I think you should read it."

Then, out of the fire flames, Remus' hand was seen clutching a small, red envelope. Harry peered at the envelope and scrunched his eyes. The only thing he could see on the front of it was a emblazoned 'PP' on the front of it, which was written in fine, gold, old English writing.

Petunia walked over to the fireplace, and took the letter, which Remus held. She took another side-glance at Remus, and then walked away, opening the letter as she walked.

"What is the meaning of this, Petunia?" asked Vernon, raising an eyebrow and looking over at Remus. "What is this man doing in our house? What is GOING ON HERE!" he roared, the whole house shaking.

"Nevermind, Vernon," said Petunia, putting the letter back in the envelope after she was done reading it. "So... eleven o'clock then, tomorrow morning?" asked Petunia, which a slight grin.

"Correct." muttered Remus. "Just make sure you bring your Hogwart's equipment, Harry... I doubt you will be here again to pick it up."

Harry nodded, and wondered why he would have to leave Privet Drive. Dumbledore just told him that he was only safe around Petunia Dursley, and removing him from her grasp would be dangerous. Remus, sensing that Harry was starting to think this over, added in, "well, I will see you tomorrow. You will be spending the remainder of the summer at my house. Bring everything you want; and need."

The fireplace resumed its regular look; Remus went, but still, Vernon, Dudley, and Marge stood there, as if they were petrified. Their eyes looked as if they were on fire; they were fixed on Harry with a sort of 'anger' Harry never witnessed before.

Petunia seemed the only one out of this trance: she was busy cleaning walking around, making sure everything was in order.

After Vernon, Marge, and Dudley resumed their regular composure (Petunia reconciled with them and said everything was OK), Harry went back to his room.

He was excited about going over to Remus' house... and only there was where he could find peace. As he lay on his bed, slowly drifting off into sleep, he thought that he didn't have a care in the world...

Harry didn't sleep for long; he was awoken by the sound of a high pitched scream coming from downstairs. "Mum! It burns!" screamed Dudley, making Harry's bed shake. Harry pushed himself up and looked down the stairs. Dudley was clutching his hand in pain, while Petunia had her hand on her head, and looked confused.

"I don't know what else to do," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "You're just going to have to sleep on it tonight Dudley, and we'll take you to the Hospital tomorrow."

"I'm not going to the Hospital! What about him," he said, peering at Harry with a look of jealousy. "He gets to go on a vacation, while I'm here in pain! It's not fair!"

If Harry ever came so close to punching Dudley, it was then. The anger rose so quickly that Harry could feel it spreading through his body. He bit his lip and then walked right past the two of them, not even caring that Dudley looked as if he wanted to get punched... it would be a great excuse to punch him back.

He heard Dudley mutter something behind him, and ignored it. Tomorrow, thank God, he would be out of this place, with Remus: the only person besides Ron and Hermione that he had left to talk to. Dumbledore, at this point, was considered no more to him as the Headmaster of Hogwarts; no more than a friend, and no less than a friend.

He went into the family room; which held none other than Vernon Dursley, who wasn't even considered Harry's family. He questioned for a minute why it was even called a 'family' room. Vernon grunted once Harry entered the room, and cast him a very ugly glance. Harry smiled: he was so used to it by now that he figured, to get Vernon even more mad to see that Harry didn't care, he would smile. It was his last time to see Vernon go red in the face, and he wasn't going to waste it.

"Dinner!" called Petunia from the kitchen, as a delicious smell filled Harry's nostril. Vernon got up, pushed Harry out f the way, and walked into the kitchen; taking his usual seat at the head of the table. Harry walked in slowly after taking his plate of small morsels of potato, corn, and steak, and then walked slowly back up into his room, where he could enjoy his last dinner in this household in peace and quiet.

After he ate, and the sun went down on the town of Little Whinging, Harry lay on his bed thinking about tomorrow. He heard Hedwig move, and looked at her and saw that, once again, she was trying to stretch out her wings. "Don't worry, Hedwig," he said, in a reassuring voice, "tomorrow, you can fly outside – Remus will allow you." As he thought about going to Remus' place, a smile drifted on his face, as he slowly drifted off to sleep...