Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter,just those pesky people in my mind:P

Chapter Two - Since when?

As the start of July came and went. Harry was still at the Dursleys, counting down the days like he had done every summer since he started Hogwarts. However this year it was different. He wasn't counting down to the start of term now. He was counting down until he turned seventeen and got to leave the Dursleys once and for all!

Ron and Hermione had decided to come and visit him every now and again. The first time that they arrived still brought a smile to his face when he thought about it. As Ron hadn't passed his Apparation test yet, he had to travel side-along with Hermione. This being her first time travelling with another person it used more energy than just travelling on her own. Therefore she didn't arrive, as at first they had thought, outside the front door. With a loud crack, that caused Mrs Dursley to shriek and drop the pile of plates that she had been carrying, Hermione and Ron appeared in the middle of the kitchen stood on top of the Dining table. Ron seemed to find it extremely amusing that Hermione had done something wrong. She, however, didn't think it was funny at all. With a loud sigh she pulled her foot out the potatoes and sent the most deadly glare she could manage towards a chuckling Ron as she jumped down of the table. She pushed roughly passed Harry, who had to hold onto the doorframe because he was laughing so much and marched up to Harrys' room. It took several more minutes before Ron could gather the breath to send a "Reparo" towards the plates that Mrs Dursley had dropped.

During the lonely times in between Ron and Hermione visiting, Harry spent his time poring over the books that Hermione brought him.

After the fire she and her parents had been staying at the Burrow with the Weasleys. Hermione had been able to convince Mr Weasley to bring her and Ron along when he went to the next Order meeting so that she could look in the Black Library. As he knew Hermiones' thirst for knowledge, Mr Weasley hadn't asked too many questions and all Ron had to do was to pretend that he was being dragged along.

The books in the library, it seemed, were full of so much Dark magic that they put the Restricted section at Hogwarts to shame. It seemed that the Black family were more into the Dark Arts than even Harry could have imagined. The Black family had no problem with Horcruxes, and as Hermione had found, even kept documents of family members who had tried and in some cases succeeded in making Horcruxes. Of the few that were successful however, it seemed that none had managed to either complete the spell or the records showed that they died not long afterwards. Whether it was because of side effects from the spell or because the Horcrux was destroyed it never said.

The books themselves gave Harry a better understanding of what a Horcrux was. Before all he had known was that they were something that a piece of someone's soul was put inside and that it had to be destroyed before they would die. Now however he knew more about how a Horcrux worked. Before an object can be used as a Horcrux, lots of protective spells have to be placed on it. Some to protect the soul, some to bond the soul and some to make them unplotable and untraceable. There was a spell that had to be said with a minute of committing murder that would take a piece of torn soul and transport it, in the shape of a pearl of light and put it into the object. The transaction caused immense pain and there was no way of knowing if the spells had been done correctly until after the deed was done. All of the spells had to be done with twenty-four hours or else they would become reversed and the object would then reject any attempt to place a piece of soul inside it.

Harry knew that this information would come in handy, however he didn't realise yet just how much.

XxXxXxX

Since Ron and Hermione had apparated Ron and herself on to the Dining table, Harry had been trying even harder to avoid the Dursleys. They hadn't been very happy and Mr Dursley had gone to Harrys' room later that day and demanded that there wouldn't be a repeat performance.

As Harry had been avoided them more than usual, he had been able to avoid any tormenting that Dudley would normally have put upon him. However, unfortunately for Harry, this couldn't last forever. In the middle of July Harry had been walking back to his room when he had been stopped by a podgy arm blocking his path. He looked up and saw that it was Dudley.

"What do you want?" Harry asked with a sigh.

"Why aren't you gone yet? It's been weeks and you're still here."

Harry restrained from rolling his eyes.

"Of Course I'm still here. Not got much choice, have I?"

Dudley scrunched up his face, confused. He looked more like a pig than Harry had seen in a while. Harry decided to put him out of his confusion.

"My mother left protection for me when she was murdered. I've got it in my blood and it's there until I turn seventeen. The catch is, I've gotta stay with blood relatives until then for it to work."

That seemed to clear it up for Dudley and Harry decided it was his time to leave. He had brushed past and was walking to his room, when he heard Dudley mutter,

"So that's what the crackpot was saying."

Harry froze. Crackpot? Who did he- "No."

"Take. That. Back." He spoke through gritted teeth. His voice was barely more than a whisper. But Dudley heard him.

He turned around with a smirk on his face.

"Why should I? That's what he is, a crackpot!"

"He was the greatest wizard of our time."

Dudley shuddered at the word "wizard". He glanced around in a way that reminded Harry of Mr Dursley. He glared at Harry and snarled,

"Don't say that!"

"What? Wizards, Witches…Magic?" Harry smirked. He loved to wind up Dudley any chance he got. He reasoned that after all that Dudley had done over the years, this was nothing. "They're only words Dudderkins."

"Go say them somewhere else. Go say them to that crackpot friend of yours."

Harry felt himself pale, despite his efforts. They were back on this subject again. "Just shut up Dudley." And without another word he turned on his heel and went back to his room.

XxXxXxX

For the next few days Harry had to try to avoid Dudley more than he had before. The glint in his eyes showed that he knew that there was something wrong, that Harry was hurting. More than once Dudley had watched Harry as he entered a room, ate his food and he was still watching as he left again. It was almost possible to here the cogs turning inside Dudleys head, almost Slytherin like, Harry thought.

It wasn't for another four days that Dudley finally caught up with Harry, as he was sitting on the garden bench.

"You said was."

To say that Harry was puzzled was an understatement.

"What are you talking about?"

"The other day, you said that the crackpot 'was' the greatest… thingy of our time."

"I also told you not to call him that." Harry said as he stood up to leave. He didn't want to talk about Dumbledore, especially with someone who didn't care in the slightest about the Professor.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

Harry stopped, and turned back around. One look at Dudleys' face showed him that he wasn't being taunted. It showed him that his cousin was merely curious about a world that he would never belong to.

Harry paused before answering, he knew that when he did, Dudley would want to know more.

"Yeah, he was murdered last month."

Dudley sat down, and looked up at Harry like he never ad before. He wasn't looking at him like Harry was beneath him or like he was waiting for him to get up so that he could punch him back down again. What Harry saw now surprised him, Dudley was looking at him like an equal.

"You say it like it happens every day."

When Harry didn't reply, Dudley looked shocked. "It does, doesn't it? Murders?"

Harry sat down on the bench next to Dudley and stared at his hands. "How much do you know about my world?"

"Honestly, not much. You said something about a war summer before last, but I was a bit too out of it to take anything in. Is that why that guy was killed?"

Harry noticed that Dudley had stopped calling Dumbledore 'Crackpot' and he was grateful for the gesture. Maybe there was hope for him yet. Of course Dudley wouldn't remember what happened. That summer had been when the Dementors had attacked him. He had been pretty out of it then, Harry still cringed when he remembered just how heavy Dudley had been to carry back to Privet Drive.

"Yeah, he was killed by someone from the other side."

Harry didn't know what to tell Dudley. All his life the boy sat next to him had been the person that made Harry's' life a living hell. Yet here he was sat next to him on a garden bench, talking to him like a civilised human being. Should he trust him, or run like hell n the opposite direction.

"Listen, I'll be honest with you. I don't know why you're suddenly talking to me. But don't think that we're suddenly friends, too much has happened. A lot of it was your fault. I've gotta send some letters, see you"

With that Harry stood up and left, heading back to the house. He didn't know what to make of what just happened. Since when was Dudley… well, not Dudley?

Sorry but i've always thought that Dudley only hated Harry because that was what his parents thought. They're not going to become best friends, just acquaintances :D

Happy reading! Please review :)

Luv Stellie! xxx