Dreams and Devils

Chapter One – An interesting stay

A/N: Howdy folks and faithful readers! Welcome to my (almost) first fanfiction. Don't ask why I decided to start writing, I really have no idea. Anyway, this is it. Enjoy it. If you want to contact me privately, review with your screenname/msn/yahoo ID or email me. All reviews except pointless flames are acceptable, so review carefully. Constructive criticism more than welcome, but remember, I'm writing this story for myself, and not for you. Don't be disappointed if your suggestions aren't used! Most of all, though, enjoy the story!

Copyright: No copyright infringement is intended by this piece. All fictional characters native to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, etc. etc. etc.

For the first two weeks of the summer, Harry was a wreck. He had decided that it was his own fault that Sirius passed through the veil, causing an immediate onset of extreme depression. Spending the entire first week locked in his room caused Aunt Petunia quite a bit of worry. He could be heard, late into the night, sobbing. When Uncle Vernon was out, Aunt Petunia sometimes worked up the courage to enter his quarters.

One particular encounter stood out in Harry's mind as a sudden display of affection from the woman who was responsible for treating him like garbage for so many years.

Aunt Petunia approached the door carefully. She heard soft sobbing inside, and, knocking, slowly pushed her way in.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Harry looked up at her and nodded his head, but his answer was meaningless. She knew he wasn't 'alright.'

"What's the matter, what happened?" she asked. Choking back tears, Harry managed to find his voice. Before he knew it, he was spilling his guts to his only living adult blood relative.

"My g-godfather w-w-was murdered," he choked out. "T-t-two months ago, m-ministry of m-m-magic." He struggled with himself and eventually regained his composure. He related the entire story of his previous year at Hogwarts, up through and including the Department of Mysteries. By the end of the story, he was too weak to resume crying. His aunt put a tender arm around him and comforted him as best she could. Suddenly, Harry looked up and decided to disclose the main source of his pain. "It was my fault, Aunt Petunia. If I hadn't fallen for Lord Voldemort's trick, this never would have happened. It's all my fault that he's gone!"

Aunt Petunia was rather taken aback by this statement. She hugged him and whispered, "It wasn't your fault, Harry. It wasn't your fault."

This conversation had represented a turning point in Harry's relationship with his Aunt. Granted, she still treated him as though he didn't exist in front of his Uncle, but he was sympathetic towards her behavior. One night, however, Harry heard yelling coming from his Aunt and Uncle's bedroom.

"—DON'T CARE WHAT HE'S BEEN THROUGH, PETUNIA, THAT DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING."

"Vernon, please, you have to understand what this boy's been through! He's lost everything he ever held dear to him. He has nothing, not even any family to fall back on. This has to stop, Vernon. It has to."

The conversation continued for about ten more minutes, and resulted in Uncle Vernon conceding that he gained nothing by treating Harry in such a horrible manner. The next morning, when Uncle Vernon had left for work, Harry relayed his infinite gratitude to his aunt. She just smiled and said, "It had to be done eventually."

Dudley, however, spent the first week teasing him about his crying. When Harry snapped, however, and explained the situation, Dudley was quickly silenced. The following week, he was extremely kind to Harry, understanding what it must be like for him. He even offered to work out with Harry so that he could take his mind off of his godfather, as well as being able to blow off some steam. Harry graciously accepted this offer and the two grew quite close over the coming weeks.

"What happened with the Privet Drive I thought I knew?" Harry wondered.

He fell asleep easily that night, knowing that maybe there was some love on Privet Drive after all.

Harry woke with a start, rubbing his scar as cold sweat poured down his face. He was breathing hard. This had been the fifth time this summer that he had awoken to the now ever-so-familiar burning in his scar. He stood up and put on his glasses, causing the world to come sharply into focus.

"Damn Voldemort," he thought. "Why can't you just cut it out already?"

He walked over to the window, accepting that sleep would not come again. Cracking it opened half way, he peered out around the street that he had come to know and, well, just know. Privet Drive was normal as ever, at least, if you didn't know who resided in Number Four. Young Harry Potter lived with his aunt, uncle, and extremely large cousin; his parents had been ruthlessly murdered fifteen years before at the hands of the dark Lord Voldemort. See, Harry was a wizard, responsible for the downfall of the most powerful evil sorcerer of all time at age 1. Since age 11, he had gone to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he had come face to face with Lord Voldemort on four separate occasions.

Harry poked his head slowly out the window, welcoming the cool breeze on his sweaty face. Just then he noticed a rather rugged looking man attempting to hide himself behind one of the neighbors' cars. The strong smell of booze drifted up to Harry's nose. "Mundungus," he thought, realizing that this man was Mundungus Fletcher, member of the Order of the Phoenix, attempting to keep watch on Harry. "Couldn't you at least try to keep yourself inconspicuous?" he wondered. He shook his head disapprovingly and withdrew back into his room.

Deciding to make the best of what was left of the night, Harry opened up his Charms book. He scanned the pages, information seeping into his brain as he read everything he could find about wards and defensive barriers. He sighed, wishing he could practice some of them.

He was quickly frustrated by the fact that he couldn't even try any of the charms he was learning, and, closing the charms book, decided to focus on Defense Against the Dark Arts. He flipped to page 655, the starting chapter on offensive spells. "Expelliarmus? I thought this would be interesting!" thought Harry moodily. Soon did he discover, however, that the book was, in fact, very interesting. He had learned several new uses for curses and hexes he had never even imagined.

Harry smiled as he got comfortable reading his book and learning many practical uses for spells he had thought useless. After was seemed like ten minutes, but was, in reality, several hours, he came to the end of the chapter. Not wanting to move, he decided to continue reading. The next chapter was entitled Wandless Magic. "Interesting," he thought as he began to read.

"Wandless Magic is the most ancient form of magic, developed before wands were created to channel the energy put into spells. Because of the nature of wandless magic, very few people are capable of practicing it. In order to achieve wandless spells, much more energy is required than those performed with a wand. However, when performed properly, wandless magic can be many times more powerful than wand magic. People capable of wandless magic will often demonstrate this ability at a young age by unintentionally performing magic without a wand. This magic can be and is very often triggered as an emotional response or defense mechanism in certain situations."

This chapter had more than just caught Harry's attention. He was about to close the book with the last sentence, when he finally processed what it said. He did a quick double take and re-read it. "Wandless magic, however, is strongly discouraged by most ministries of magic, because, due to its nature, it cannot be traced in the same manner as wand magic." The entire meaning of this had just set in. "Wandless magic could be performed and go unnoticed by the ministry!" he thought excitedly.

His heart practically beating in his throat, Harry began to quickly skim all the passages regarding use of wandless magic. Memories began flooding into his brain of jumping and somehow landing on the roof, of shrinking that horrid sweater, of growing out his hair, and, his most delightful memory, making the glass on a reptile cage disappear, causing a boa constrictor to snap at Dudley. All of these, he had decided, were emotional responses. According to this, then, he should be able to do wandless magic.

Consulting every resource in his possession, he learned as much as he could on the matter. All of his books outlined the fact that wandless magic was extremely dangerous if practiced without proper instruction and supervision. Disregarding this fact, Harry decided to give it a go. He focused, just as his Charms book had detailed, solely on the idea of unlocking his door. Staring hard at the lock, he said, "Alohamora!" He felt the energy drain out of his body, and a silver-yellow glow emanated from his person. As soon as it vanished, he dashed to the door and tried the knob. Nothing. The door was still locked.

"Damn!" he muttered.

He decided to put his morning to good use, continuously attempting to unlock his door wandlessly, which he found very tiring. By midmorning, everyone in the house had awoken, and aunt Petunia had come to unlock his door. He had anticipated the breakfast that awaited him downstairs. Struggling to his feet, he staggered down the stairs to the kitchen table.

"Hey Duds!" he said happily, greeting his cousin as he saw him at the table.

"What's got you in such an up mood?" queried Dudley.

"You know, slept well," Harry lied.

All in all, this summer was going well; far better, at least, than any previous summer with the Dursleys. Other than the sporadic conversations with his Aunt and Dudley, he had been left to his own devices for the most part, and he was getting on rather well with what he had. He frequently owled Professor Lupin regarding his situation, as well as keeping in close contact with Ron and Hermione. As he was eating breakfast, he realized that his birthday was only one short week away. He silently pondered whether the Dursleys might recognize it this year. He doubted it, but he did have a little hope.

He spent the entire day locked up in his room reading. When night came, he told everyone that he was thoroughly exhausted and decided to turn in early. His actual reason for this was so that he could wake up early and practice wandless magic. For six days preceding his birthday, he tried, but to no avail, to unlock his door wandlessly. On the seventh day before his birthday, he concentrated hard, eyes almost bulging out of his head. The now familiar yellow-silver aura appeared around him, only this time, it concentrated and flew at the lock, which snapped quickly opened. Harry hardly felt the loss of energy as a rush of adrenaline hit him full force. He had done it! He had used wandless magic!

Just then he felt something tingle in the back of his brain. Sensing something, he turned around and approached the window. Right there, hiding behind that very same car, was Mundungus Fletcher.

"Apparently," thought Harry, "these new powers also help me recognize whenever a wizard is around!"

Harry returned to bed for another two hours before awaking to a soft knocking on his door. "Harry, dear," came his aunt's voice. "Wake up, Harry, breakfast is ready."

Harry climbed to his feet and dressed. He walked down the stairs to the kitchen, feeling rather tired from the mornings adventure. As he walked in, Aunt Petunia looked up from breakfast. "Happy birthday, Harry," she said, a soft smile on her face.

"Thanks," he grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Just then the full force of what she had said hit him. His eyes shot opened. "W-w-what?" he asked, stammering.

"Happy birthday!"

"Uh, thanks, Aunt Petunia."

Harry shook his head, wondering if he was imagining things. He pinched himself. "Nope, still hurts," he thought, dully. His heart raced. Just then, Uncle Vernon walked in.

"Oh, you," he said with a tone of an internal struggle. "Uh, right, happy birthday." Uncle Vernon just barely choked out the words.

"Thanks a bunch, Uncle Vernon. You don't know how much that means to me!" said Harry sincerely.

"No problem," he said, looking rather red.

Dudley strolled in at that moment, turned, looked at Harry, and yelled, "Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks Duds!" he replied.

They all took their seats at the table and began to eat. As breakfast concluded, Dudley cleared his throat.

"Ahem, Harry, I was thinking." Harry almost fell out of his chair. Dudley? Thinking? Since when?

Dudley, however, seemed not to notice. "I was thinking that, maybe, for your birthday, I could teach you how to ride a bicycle. I've already got one for you from mum and dad, and it would make working out together a lot more fun. Besides, we could cover a lot more ground this way than we can jogging.

Harry was about to reply when Uncle Vernon jumped in with his sentiments. "Well, I don't suppose it's such a bad idea. Get you out of the house, it would."

Harry smirked and shook his head. This lot was unbelievable. He, however, was looking forward to the opportunity. "Sure thing, when do we start?"

"Today, if you want."

"Sounds good!"

Aunt Petunia collected the plates as breakfast was adjourned. He ran upstairs and changed into a pair of gym clothes, which he had acquired a few years back. He met Dudley downstairs. While was certainly still overweight, Dudley had lost much of his excessive poundage, mainly due to his jogging, working out and eating habit changes.

Four hours and an intense session at the gym later, Harry and Dudley were on their way home. Harry was drained. "That was tougher than any other session we've ever had!" he thought. "Maybe I'll get better at wandless magic because I'll have more energy, though," piped up another voice.

Harry jumped into the shower to cool off and wash off the stench. He dried off and decided to go for a walk. He glanced around curiously as he felt another slight prickle in the back of his brain. He decided that it must be someone from the order, before turning around and walking down to the park. He plopped himself carelessly on the merry-go-round, feeling thoroughly sore from the morning's workout.

Just then, an owl approached him. Harry recognized it immediately as Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl. He took the letter that Pig was offering him and read it carefully.

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday mate! I'm here at Grimmauld Place with Hermione and her family, as well as my family and Professor Lupin. Anyway, the order is making arrangements to pick you up in two weeks, and they said they'll be driving (this time). I have another owl coming with all your presents, I hope you like them. Anyhow, let me know how you're doing and what you think of the idea. They'll come get you either way.

Ron

Harry read it and took it all in. "Only two weeks?" he thought ecstatically. He ran home quickly. He had to master wandless magic this summer, he decided.

Focusing again that night on wandless magic, he was able to unlock the door several times before becoming weary.

Harry woke early the next morning to practice magic some more before the family was awake. He practiced summoning pennies to him wandlessly, but it was very difficult, and, as he soon found out, rather tiring. A short nap later he was on his feet and greeted the family downstairs. After breakfast, he settled on just reading for the day. He opened another charms coursebook and studied every page. Soon, dinner was ready, and Harry went down. After everything was cleaned up, Dudley and Harry decided to go jogging.

The two jogged until the sun had completely set. They shared a lot of laughs, and by the end of the night, they had gone through sufficient 'male bonding'. As the night ended, Dudley decided to go in and watch some T.V., while Harry resolved to confront whatever order member happened to be tailing him at the moment. Following his instincts, he was able to determine by the intensity of the feeling in his head that it was one of the stronger members. "Must be Moody," he thought.

Sneaking up behind him, Harry stuck out a hand and said, "Expelliarmus!" Moody's wand flew straight into his hand, and he was awestruck.

"Potter, how in the hell did you do that without a wand?"

"Wandless magic," he said simply.

"Eh, not as wimpy as I've heard, then?" he asked, smiling. "Why did you disarm me?"

"Well, I might have scared you into hexing me if I had just jumped into a conversation."

"You're learning, Potter. Constant vigilance. Now, can I have my wand back?" he growled.

Harry had a short conversation with Mad-eye about his removal. They would be traveling by car, as Ron had said, and Moody would be heading the guard again.

"How's Remus?" asked Harry. "He's been writing to me saying he's fine, but I'm not sure I believe him."

"He's getting on alright. He's been better, though," admitted Moody.

Harry shrugged and ended the conversation with a brief goodbye.

When he walked into his house, Dudley was sitting comfortably in front of the television. He glanced up as Harry entered, and he winked.

Harry smiled and walked up to his bedroom, too excited to sleep. He had just caught one of the best Aurors of all time unawares and disarmed him. And wandlessly, no less. To take his mind off things, he practiced a bit more wandless magic. He found objects flying to his hands out of the sheer excitement he was feeling.

Finally tired and relaxed, Harry was able to sleep peacefully.

As the summer slipped by, Harry continued his working out with Dudley, practicing his wandless magic and reading. He found himself heavily studying theories of spells and charms, including the most complex spells he could find. By the time he was due to be picked up by Moody and company, he had put on quite a bit of muscle and was much smarter when it came to magical theory than almost anyone at Hogwarts, barring, of course, Hermione. But he was sure he had the raw power to utilize this knowledge far better than Hermione would be able to. He was also extremely strong when it came to wandless magic, now that he had much more energy due to his constant workouts and practice. He had also achieved complete control over the tingling sensation he was feeling near wizards. His control was so definite that he was almost able to use it as a sort of tracking device for wizards.

Harry retired to bed early that night, anticipating his removal from his private hell on Privet Drive.

A/N: I hope you liked the story, kindly share your thoughts for next time! Expect frequent updates, too!