"What is it about swiping bacon that makes it taste even better?" Harry asked himself as he picked a small bit out of his teeth. Maybe it was just the satisfaction of knowing he'd be away from the Dursleys for the day. After Dudley unwrapped his loot, they always had a family outing to somewhere.

For some reason, just the idea of going to the zoo left a bad taste in his mouth. So, he was rather grateful at the idea of them leaving him behind. Besides, he could get back inside without much fuss. As he headed down the street, faint giggling across the street caught his attention. That was another bonus from whatever had caused him to be like he was; like his vision, his hearing and smell were a lot more sensitive than normal.

So he didn't have much trouble hearing the two girls across the street. What he found odd, though was that a cursory glance over to them indicated they were giggling while looking his way. Between the Dursleys telling most of the neighborhood that he was a troublemaker, and his habit of not mincing words, he was seen as something of a cold, unfriendly person by most. Which is why he was somewhat perplexed by the fact that a group of girls on Privet Drive and at school seemed to act giggly, and blushing when he was near.

Or the fact that that seemed to infuriate Dudley and his gang. He'd caught them more than once threatening some girls, especially ones younger and smaller than them, to stop doing whatever they were doing 'or else'. He honestly wondered about their intellect sometimes. Either way, the girls within a year or two of his age, and a couple of younger ones, acted very oddly around him. He'd been referred to as 'tough', or 'rebellious', but failed to see what those had to do with anything.

He was brought out of his current train of thought by a couple of meows behind him. It was a couple of cats belonging to Mrs. Figg, a somewhat odd woman who lived nearby and owned more than a few cats. While he had nothing personal against her, he'd never enter her house if he could due to the painfully strong smell of cabbage and cat urine. The cats, however, seemed to love him; sitting down in her house inevitably resulted in him hidden under a pile of purring felines. It didn't take him long to recognize the two as Tigglesworth and Miss Brumble.

"If it's your noses you're following, then you're too late. I've already eaten the bacon." He showed them the empty and still slightly greasy fingers. They meowed, but seemed content to just follow him, tails sticking straight up. He just shrugged. "All right. Don't blame me if Figg gets annoyed with you." Making his way down the street, he continued until it came to a dead end and turned off into a small, unpaved path. Figg's cats had gotten bored and headed home by then, so he was alone again. The path itself went on until he managed to find a small batch of trees growing in the remains of an old house.

He'd found the place on one of his earlier walks around the neighborhood. It must've been made some kind of historic spot because there were lingering signs of construction nearby. Harry found it amusing that the few denizens of Privet Drive that knew about this place considered it an eyesore even though it was out of street view. He liked it because it was quiet, relaxing…

"Ssspeaker."

"Hey, Boss."

...and had occupants he could have a decent conversation with. Harry had found out, when he finally learned to speak, that he could talk to snakes just as easily as humans. And lizards...turtles, reptiles in general, actually. He looked at the small garden snake and lizard that had emerged from behind one of the small bushes.

"Hey guys. Anything new going on?"

The lizard gave what seemed to be a shrug. "Had a big dog run through the other day, but nothing much else."

"Exssssept..."

"EVERYTHING SMELLS LIKE YELLOW!" Another lizard came scurrying out from the same bush, charging right over the snake.

Harry watched as it started spinning around before clamping down on its own tail. "He hate another one of those yellow and orange beetle, didn't he?"

The first one hesitated for a second. "...yeah."

"I TASTE LIKE A FLAVOR!" It was now gnawing on its own tail. Harry was certain that, if it was physically capable, it would probably have a demented grin right now.

The snake gave its version of a huff. "I told him not to, but…"

"Oh, you liar!" The first lizard retorted. "You were laughing your cloaca off the last time!"

Granted, they weren't always the best conversationalists, but it was never really boring.

Taking a seat near the arguing pair, he quietly focused on some of the odd little bits and pieces of info that had been shoved in his head how. It was just a short while after the ugly man blew up. He was being taken out of what was left the house by a guy who looked like he could toss Vernon like a rugby ball. During this, he started getting these weird pieces of information about stuff like pulling or pushing things without touching them, cutting something from a distance, or even making it change into something else. He'd found out that with a little concentration, focusing on his intent, he could get those result. He hadn't really achieved much, but it was better than nothing.

His current target was a small branch. Taking a deep breath, he pointed at it and pictured a section being sliced right off. A faint sensation sparked inside him, and a smile appeared on his face. Whenever that feeling came, he knew that it was going to happen. "Cut!" He ordered in a whisper. There was a faint 'click', and a five inch segment of branch fell to the ground.

"Hey, you're getting better at that." The first lizard piped up. "Looked a little faster from last time."

"A little." Harry picked it and ran his thumb over the cut. It was almost glass smooth. "I'm definitely improving, at least." There were a few other things he'd seen as well, but they looked a bit too cruel for his taste. Seriously, who wants to make a person turn inside out? That's disgusting!

In the days following, things went back to their usual routine. While he refused to let them use him as an indentured servant, Harry did a share of the chores. Dudley (at Vernon's coaching, most likely) had tried to sabotage him on more than one occasion, and gotten slapped for his troubles. That came to something of an end when they announced the boy would be heading to Smeltings, Vernons old 'alma mater'. He nearly hurt himself laughing at the maroon and orange uniform the school had, thinking he looked like a giant tangerine. Of course, he made sure Dudley knew he'd be eating that stick the first time he swung at him

Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall high. "They stuff new students' heads in the toilet on the first day at Stonewall." Dudley smiled nastily as he said this. "You should practice for it."

"Good idea." The boy froze when Harry grabbed the back of his neck. "You first. Hopefully the toilet won't get sick from you." He let him go when he fainted at the foot of the steps.

He didn't really mind the grey uniform there, but it spoke volumes at how cheap his relatives were when he found Petunia dying some of Dudley's old clothes. Ones he knew he'd probably have to alter some. Despite his cousin's girth, his clothes were always in need of altering in some manner to make them comfortable. Ripping open the collar and/or removing the sleeves usually worked.

The next day, everyone was having breakfast when they heard the sound of the mailman making a delivery.

"Get the mail, Dudley." Vernon said.

"Make Harry get it." Dudley whined through a mouthful of sausages.

"He told you, now get going." Harry replied, staring at him when he started raising his stick. "Really?"

Sulking, Dudley stomped out of the kitchen, hitting everything with his stick on the way. There was a couple of minutes of silence before they heard him yell. "Dad, Harry got a letter!"

"What?" Vernon shouted back between eggs.

There was loud thumps as Dudley, surprisingly, showed he could run, waving a small envelope in his hand. "He's got a letter!" He pointed at Harry, who pulled it out of his grip.

He gave it a look over, surprised at the fact that he'd actually gotten something. It didn't feel like regular paper, and the address was bizarre for lack of a better term.

Mr.

The Cupboard Under The Stairs.

4,Little Whinging,

Surrey

"That's...specific." He said. He flipped it over to open when He caught Vernon, his face a mix of terror and anger, lunging for it. "Back off!" He snarled, showing a full set of fangs at the fat man.

*riiip!*

Unfortunately, he'd managed to get hold of part of the letter before he recoiled from Harry's teeth, and tore away a good portion, rendering Harry's half unreadable.

All three Dursley's looking on in silence, Harry stared emotionlessly at the torn remains of his first actual piece of mail. Thanks to his fat bastard of an uncle, though, he'd never know what it said. "Um, p-perhaps it's time we got you out of that cupboard, boy. Dudley, start moving your things out of the spare bedroom, and…"

Harry slowly turned to face him. "No thanks." His voice shifted to its lower timbre. "And Vernon, that's three."

"That's wha-" He didn't get to finish before his nose and Harry's fist became well-acquainted.