Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way shape or form. The book series and world of Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling and everyone should remember that fact. You may find one or two characters that aren't owned by her, due to the fact I made those fellows up in my own head. Thank you.

A/N This is the first chapter of a story I have been planning on writing. I'm using this to introduce a character that will be used in most of my other works here. If you can't tell who he is when he shows up, shame on you. I do enjoy constructive criticism, so don't hesitate to review. See you all soon, Drac.

Chapter one: Dursley Developements

It was a seemingly normal night, in a seemingly normal neighborhood. Almost too normal one might say, but why be cynical? The neighborhood in question was named Little Whinging and the cause for it not being normal lives on a street named Privet Drive, the house with the number four on it, to be precise. Interesting how such a simple number might seem not so simple if someone found out what goes on in this house.

The seemingly normal family living there isn't as typical as one might think at first glance. They seem ok. There are pictures all over the house of two parents and an increasingly fat boy. This boy, who might have been mistaken for a small whale by the age of fourteen, was always doing something. One of the more resent ones showed him standing in a uniform and holding a cane. The mother was a horse-faced woman, with an abnormally long neck, which seemed to have been made for the task of spying on the neighbors. The father was a large beefy man, who had no neck and beady eyes. He also had a thick mustache and brown hair.

Upon further search of the house, there is still no sign of the abnormality that resides inside it. For this is not a visible thing. What is the central point to the abnormality is, in the Dursley's eyes, another boy that lives at the same address. For much of his life, Harry Potter, a small skinny boy with black hair and striking green eyes, lived in the cupboard under the stairs. He spent his time running from Dudley and his gang, who enjoyed beating him up and being called a 'freak' and 'abnormal' by the Dursleys.

The neighbors on Privet Drive know Harry Potter as a scrawny good for nothing boy, who just happened to be the nephew of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Many felt sorry for him, but wouldn't disrupt the quiet perfect life on the street by interfering. A few years ago, Harry was offered a way to get away from the stifling environment. He received a letter from a school called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and, much to the distaste and fury of his Aunt and Uncle, decided to go to the school.

The Dursley's, afraid people would find out about the wizard living under their roof, told everyone he was a juvenile delinquent who goes to St. Brutus' School for Incurably Criminal Boys. Only one person on Privet Drive besides the Dursleys knows the truth and used to watch over Harry. This woman's name is Arabella Figg. She is not a witch, but is what is known as a squib, or a person of wizarding heritage that is unable to do magic. Actually, Mrs. Figg is really there as a constant guard to watch Harry and make sure he doesn't get into trouble.

Besides Mrs. Figg, there is always a wizard or witch guarding Number Four Privet Drive, against any magical trouble that may arise. The need for this guard is because Harry is not an ordinary boy, even by wizarding standards. Harry was the cause for the downfall of a particularly powerful Dark Wizard, who a couple years earlier had returned to power. This wizard, a self proclaimed lord, goes under the name of Lord Voldemort. His real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, but few know that truth. Well, Harry is under constant protection due to a prophecy naming him the eventual vanquisher of the Dark Lord. Voldemort would like to see Harry dead, so until he is of age, he needs constant surveillance, or that's what the Order of the Phoenix thinks.

Dudley Dursley, on the other hand, goes to a well-known school for boys called Smeltings. He had gone there for a couple years now and was slowly becoming not so fat, but retaining a sort of largeness. This was due to the fact that he now cared about how fit he was because two years previous, he had decided to start boxing.

His teachers saw a violent streak in him that just couldn't be refocused to a more productive measure than becoming a fighter. So, they handed him to the boxing coach at Smeltings, School for Boys. This action changed his life. A year ago, most people didn't see a change, but now there was one. He no longer went around bullying others. In fact, he stayed in the shed most of his time, a shed that his father had built to house some new weight equipment and a boxing ring.

Perhaps a little explanation is needed as to why this change occurred in young Dudders. You see, a year ago, a fully-grown wizard by the name of Albus Dumbledore came to visit number four Privet Drive. Albus Dumbledore is, or was, the Headmaster to a Hogwarts, which is located in Scotland somewhere. He made a comment about the Dursleys that made Dudley think, something he didn't often do sadly. Not because he didn't have a mind, but because he never had cause to use it. You see, Dumbledore told them that the Dursleys had abused Dudley in a terrible way, more terrible than what they had done to Harry.

Dudley took what was said and thought it through. It was a subdued Dudley that went back to Smeltings. He soon realized what Dumbledore meant. He had been spoiled. He had been given everything he wanted, and told he was a perfect child. Everyone else, though, told him otherwise. Wasn't that why he had to go to councilors before? Wasn't that why he had been given boxing gloves? His mind went haywire, and soon he went to the one teacher he respected, his Boxing Coach.

It is said that if one is given everything one wants, their imagination is stunted. Worse than that, though, they begin to think that everyone should give them whatever they want. They may even become angry or violent when they don't get what they want. Dudley not only did this, but also tried to find a way to attain happiness by beating others up. The realization that there was something wrong made him perfect for a change.

Coach Hastings was waiting for this to happen. Not this in particular, but for Dudley to take to boxing in a better way, a more direct way. He was thrilled to see that Dudley had come to him, and Hastings told him what needed to be done. He had to turn to something he wanted, something his parents couldn't just hand to him. Hastings knew that everyone needed a goal, in order to apply ones self.

When Dudley couldn't see what he wanted, he went to the coach for advice. "Coach Hastings, what do you mean by something I want."

Hastings looked at his most promising student and smiled, "What is it that you enjoy doing the most here at school?"

The boy looked at the coach quizzically for a moment, then spoke with passion in his voice, "Boxing, sir."

The coach nodded, he knew that would be his answer, "Tell me, would you like to make it to the pros? I mean, be a Professional Boxer?" When Dudley nodded, Hastings said, "Do you want that more than anything? If you do, then work at it. Try your hardest. Apply yourself with that goal in mind, and you will find yourself becoming greater than you have been. You'll find the joy you've been searching for your entire life and never found."

Dudley thought about this for some time and asked, "How do I apply myself, sir?"

And the coach gave him some rules to follow. He never told Dudley outright to stop bullying, but he frowned upon it and made sure Dudley knew that. The coach started him on a rigorous training program, waking up early to run and lifting weights, telling him that his weight paid a crucial role in boxing and where he'd compete. And Dudley applied himself to everything, winning the National Junior Heavy Weight Championship for Smeltings as a reward.

When Dudley finally came home, he had a burning desire to stay in shape and keep training. His father made a big deal about his newfound desire to become a Professional Boxer and had a shed made, with air conditioning, "Only the best for my son," he chortled. He went and bought the weight machines and the punching bags.

When I say that Vernon had a shed built, what I mean is, he had Harry build it. Harry had just arrived back at the house when Vernon came to him with the task. Not giving Harry even the chance at unpacking first, Vernon banged on Harry's door. "BOY!!" He yelled, "You will come downstairs immediately to hear what you will be doing for the next week." The man's feet could be heard pounding down the stairs.

Harry's room was cluttered with cast offs of Dudley and just happened to be the smallest room in the house. He quickly unpacked everything, putting his books under the loose floorboard and his broom in the closet. He let Hedwig, his owl, out of her cage. Then, he changed into some baggy jeans and shirt and walked down the stairs and into the living room. There stood his Uncle, his red face and angry eyes glaring at Harry, as if accusing him of being alive.

Vernon Dursley always looked at Harry with the same expression, like he was contemplating something nasty and dangerous. His hate, yes it is that strong a dislike was due to the fact that Harry was a wizard and Vernon did not approve of such nonsense. So he tried his best to make Harry as miserable as possible.

Vernon began to grin and said nastily to the young man in front of him, "For the next week, you will work with a carpenter, who will be making a shed in the back yard. This shed will house Dudley's weights and practice ring for his boxing. You will also be working with Dudley and sparring with him after it is done." He seemed to be enjoying telling Harry this, and his grin widened as he came to the part about sparring.

Harry just nodded and shrugged, "If you so wish, Uncle Vernon."

A little surprised at the seemingly calm answer and a little nervous, Vernon answered his voice hard, "And no funny business," spraying a little spittle on the word 'funny.' "You will not use your abnormality." Then Vernon walked off.

The next week was hard work, but it prepared Harry for the next couple weeks of weights and boxing. With his help, the carpenter finished his work within the week and the shed was outfitted with everything that Dudley needed to continue his training as a boxer.

Then Harry spent his time lifting weights with Dudley and boxing. Dudley was, at first, resentful that his scrawny cousin would be his sparring partner. Nothing he said could convince his dad to change his mind, however. So Dudley gave in and instructed Harry how to gain muscle the fastest and how to box. Dudley soon grew to respect Harry in a new way that he never knew he would. Harry was fast and could take a hit surprisingly well. He also seemed to fill out more as he trained with Dudley, becoming stronger in body faster than should have been possible. He was also learning faster than Dudley could believe. All this put together made Dudley realize how good Harry was for his training. As well, teaching his cousin helped Dudley to learn and improve his understanding of the sport he loved.

Over these couple of weeks, Harry and Dudley spent a lot of time together, and one day, while lifting weights side by side, Dudley asked a question, "So, what was that thing you did last year to that Dementor thing?"

Harry paused in mid lift for a moment and, as his arms began to shake, he put the weights in rest position. He was shocked that Dudley would ask him about magic, and answered almost methodically, "Well, it's called the Patronus Charm. It was developed to drive Dementors away." He started lifting again, "It's powerful magic and a lot of people were amazed that I could do it at my hearing afterwards."

And that opened up the floodwaters, as Dudley continued to ask questions. Respect soon turned to friendship as Dudley learned about much of what Harry had done. Including the Triwizard Cup and the many times he'd seen Voldemort. Dudley seemed most keen to talk about Quidditch, a Wizarding Sport played on broomstick that Harry was rather good at. It wasn't enough to totally wipe away the years of animosity between the two, but it was enough for both to trust the other. After awhile, Dudley even shared his last year and his decision to start making his own decisions for a change.

Vernon was not pleased when he saw the astounding progress Harry was making. He had taken to refereeing the spar matches between Dudley and Harry, being extremely biased of course. He yelled at Harry one day, "This is not possible! You have been using your abnormality to make yourself stronger! I know it," he accused. He wouldn't hear any of Harry's words or denials on the matter.

However, Dudley had become tired of his father's constant berating of Harry. "Father stop. Harry hasn't done any magic, I would have seen it if he had. Besides, we know he'd be expelled if he did use it."

Vernon was surprised. His son had openly disagreed with him and had said the M word in his house. His face suddenly became purple and he turned on Harry again. After all, everything was Harry's fault, "What have you done to my son, you freak," he hissed.

Harry was shocked too, he looked at Dudley, who was looking defiantly at his father, then looked back at his Uncle, "N-nothing! I haven't done anything to Dudley. I-I would have been kicked out of school if I had, like Dudley said," Harry replied, his eyes wide.

Vernon wouldn't hear it as he bellowed, "Change him back! Take that . . . whatever you did . . . off him!"

Dudley seemed to bristle. "He hasn't done anything to me. Over the last couple weeks, he has earned my respect as a boxer. I saw him lift the weights, he has worked just as hard as I have, maybe even harder." Dudley was fuming and his own face was red with anger.

Vernon ignored his son and pointed at Harry, "You will go to your room and stay there. You will not lift weights with my son anymore, or speak to him. The only time you may be around my son is when you box, is that clear?" Vernon's voice seemed to go down to a hiss as he spoke and he seemed to be trying to kill Harry with his glare.

Harry looked at Vernon, his expression unreadable and said, "As you wish, sir." With a rather large emphasis on 'sir.' Harry went up to his room.

Vernon turned to Dudley, "Son, this is for your own good. That boy has obviously been a bad influence on you."

Dudley glared at his father, but knew he couldn't convince the man, "He needs to continue to weight train at least. I need a challenge." His tone of voice was as though he was stating a fact, but his anger could still be heard in the background.

Vernon sighed, "Very well, he may lift weights, but only when you are not. You must be someplace else when he is in the shed. The only time you may be together is when someone else is there as well." He looked at Dudley expectantly.

Dudley nodded in acknowledgment. "Ok, that's fine," he agreed.

In his room, Harry was pacing. He was looking around. The room gave him nothing to do and memories were beginning to return as they always did when he was alone. Dumbledore's death was in the foreground. Close behind was Ginny Weasley, Harry's girlfriend and the girl he liked before all others. He hadn't written to her, or Ron her brother, all summer. He did write to Remus Lupin, one of his father's best friends, every week. This was to tell the man that he was ok.

But Harry didn't want to write letters, besides which his owl, Hedwig, wasn't there to carry the letter. He instead sat down and began reading one of his spell books. He'd taken to reading and memorizing spells. He had been surprised, at first, at how easily the knowledge went down. Then he shrugged it off and just read more. He did it everyday to stop the memories from becoming overwhelming.

After a few minutes, he heard the pounding feet of his Uncle coming up the stairs. He entered the door and slammed it behind him. "Boy, you are to continue weight training and sparring with Dudley. The only times you are to be with Dudley is when someone else is present. Is that understood?"

Harry, who hadn't turned around, replied, "Yes Uncle Vernon."

"I don't like your tone of voice, boy, and you will face me when I'm talking to you." The man said, his voice rose dangerously.

Harry, no longer a boy by any meaning of the word, closed the book, turned around, and stood up. He was looking Vernon Dursley straight in the eye, having grown taller in the last month, since getting back to the home. His eyes also seemed to hold a power that hadn't been present previously. He spoke quietly, "Of course, Uncle Vernon."

His uncle stepped back, aware for the first time how dangerous Harry seemed. This was no longer the little boy he bullied for so many years. He decided to back off for now, "Very well then, boy. You will stand by these new rules or you will sorely regret it." Vernon's voice was diminished, due to his fear of this show of growth.

Harry nodded and replied, "Is that all then?"

Vernon said, "Yes, boy, and you will no longer eat with the rest of us. You will eat before or after." He turned and left the room.

Around a week later, Harry was in the weight room, trying not to think about the month earlier when Severus Snape killed Albus Dumbledor, Harry's mentor and friend. He was trying not to think about the coward who had killed the man he had grown to love as a father. He was trying, but not succeeding. It had been so easy when he could talk to Dudley about things to not think about these things, but now the thoughts just came.

The muscle development he was experiencing was astounding. He had no idea how he was doing it. He had no idea that it was a magically induced growth. His birthday was fast approaching, and with it a potential that even Dumbledore had no idea was there. The growth in his physical condition and the mental development as well was part of this potential and Harry was not conscious of it.

He had started training his leg muscles as well as his arms and torso. He had recently started to run as well, and do stretches and push-ups, sit-ups, crunches, and pull-ups. All the while thinking of things he didn't want to.

He finally decided to think through the night Dumbledore's death had happened. He thought of the locket he had taken to carrying around with him and skipped over feeding his mentor that horrid potion. He turned his thoughts to the actual death and Snape's betrayal to the Headmaster. Something wasn't right there, but Harry couldn't place it. He continued to ponder it out, as he rhythmically went through the motions of his weight training.

At this same time, Dudley was at the park with his old gang, who he hadn't been hanging out with as much due to training with Harry. They were talking about how bored they were. One finally spoke up with an idea, "Hey, let's go beat up on Denis Harrington."

Dudley shook his head, "No, that doesn't sound like fun anymore."

The rest looked at him in surprise, Dudley saying that bullying was not fun? Dudley looked up at them and asked, "What?" His voice held something more than a question. It was almost a challenge.

His best friend, Piers Polkis, replied, "It's just . . . you never had a problem with it before."

Dudley sighed, "After fighting real challenges and getting beat up by other people in the ring, beating up people that can't fight back is empty. Sorry guys, but that's just the way I feel now."

The other guys just stared more. Finally another one spoke up, "So you're saying that you don't want to beat up on people anymore?" Dudley nodded and the boy continued in disgust, "You have grown weak."

Dudley looked coldly at the young man before him, "Who are you calling weak? I have fought against people who would make you look like Denis."

The boy's eyes clouded and he continued, "I'm calling you weak. You're the one that said that your weakling of a cousin was becoming quite a challenge." Dudley had told them about Harry at the beginning of the week, when he had started hanging out with them again

Dudley stood up and said, "Harry could take any of you on one on one now. He can hold his own against me."

The other answered, "Prove it."

And so it was decided that they go to Dudley's house, where Dudley knew Harry was lifting weights. The boys went through the house and Dudley told his mom that he was going out back with his friends. Petunia stopped him with, "But it is that boy's time in the shed."

Dudley smiled, "I know. I just want to show this lot a few things in the ring. Harry can help. Besides dad said that I wasn't to be alone with him, I have my friends with me." He looked at his mom, his tone in it's persuasive stage, a definite change from the whiny voice he used to use.

His mother pursed her lips in thought, then sighed, "Ok, but be sure to be through before your father gets home." Petunia Dursley is a horse faced woman, with an abnormally long neck and thin body. When Dudley had started getting along with Harry, she had been worried at first. Now she was tolerant. She had even started giving the boy larger portions because Dudley felt Harry needed it to become more of a challenge to him. She went back to making dinner and checking out the window to spy on the neighbors.