A/N: Thank you for stopping by, to all 6 readers marking this story as favorite and/or subscribing for updates, and very particularly especially to Bonbonnet and hreft93 for the reviews!

I think this is the last chapter of this very small story. I feel it should end here, but if you feel it to be badly explained or abrupt, let me know it and I'll try to work it out. This is mostly a writing experiment and I'm not trying to add anything to canon, I just wanted to explore a "what if" (very logical if we consider Harry's complete emotional and mental sanity).

So long and thanks for all the fish! n-p


When Harry and Dudley were seven they were placed in different classes at school. It was the first time in their short lives that they didn't share mates, although they could naturally meet at recess or lunch time.

It was also the first time Harry kept a secret from his cousin. There was a girl in Harry's class he thought of as lovely.

Her name was Virginia (he once heard her mother calling her Gina, and secretly delighted in saying the name when he was alone in the alcove under the stairs), and her hair was straw blond, with a certain reddish glimmer when the sun kissed it so. She was shy, and so was he, but one day they were matched to read together and her barely noticeable lisp was music in his ears.

Shortly after that glorious day in Harry's life Virginia stopped coming to school, and he didn't know what had happened to her until Uncle Vernon found out for him. It was not in Vernon Dursley to set about finding things about his stepson's classmates' parents' businesses at all, but seeing Harry's state of complete despair he had decided to inquire discreetly.

The reason was quite simple: Virginia's father had been relocated by his employer quite abruptly and the family had followed him. Harry had been heartbroken with all the might of his seven year-old soul, but had been thankful his uncle had relieved him from the fear they had died in an accident like his own parents had.

oo0oo

This Hagrid person had left almost two days ago and Harry was feeling in his own body what antsy truly means. He didn't seem able to sit still, or to keep a train of thought for more than a few ideas, or even, to eat a whole bowl of oats. And he wasn't the only one.

Everyone at the Dursley household was behaving very strangely. Aunt Petunia was very quiet and forgot to water her beloved flowers so they wilted in the summer heat. Uncle Vernon misplaced his desk calculator and was lost without it. Dudley didn't seem excited about going to Smeltings anymore, his father's former school had, dare he think, magically lost its appeal. A heavy silence hung over their conversations, hushed steps would go up and down the stairs, a willingness to avoid eye contact seemed to rule the once the very functional and happy family.

Harry didn't know what to think of it. In reality, he didn't quite understand anything at all. So he had been accepted to this very strange school, but without any money and his guardians' consent where was the issue? It was a short lived dream, like a butterfly or a daisy. You think they're nice, but you can't really count on them for very long, can you?

oo0oo

Aunt Petunia left, the dishes done and everything quite tidy, to put on her pink curlers in the bedroom she shared with her husband. Dudley was already in his room, watching mind-numbing TV. Harry was downstairs looking for a book and Vernon, truth be acknowledged, hoping to bump into his stepson. Given Vernon Dursley's anatomy this was quite likely to happen at almost any time.

Harry thought, at first, that his uncle would keep ignoring him and he'd be reading one more chapter before dozing off that night. But his uncle thought differently.

-"So, Harry, school...", Vernon began almost casually.

-"What with it?", replied Harry. It came out sounding more belligerent than he felt or intended, and Uncle Vernon's brow showed how much it did. In great quantities, actually.

-"What do you want to do?", he almost barked in his customary tone.

-"What does it matter?", Harry shot back. "You and Petunia won't let me go regardless of what I want, so why bother?"

-"It matters, Harry, it matters a lot", Vernon sighed and for the first time Harry found a little thread of vulnerability in otherwise bigger than life and things Vernon Dursley. He didn't say anything waiting for his uncle to clarify himself. He did. "Harry, your aunt and I can't go against your decision in this matter, you know?"

He didn't know, but he simply jutted his chin in hopes of looking if not intimidating, at least not intimidated.

-"But you don't want me to go", he insisted.

-"Harry, what they do is dangerous!" Vernon's face was becoming red, which wasn't unusual. "It killed your parents... Harry, if you were going to experiment with drugs what should we, your guardians, do? Just look from the sidelines as you injure yourself, or should we step in as early as we can?"

-"Is it the same thing?", Harry asked in a thin voice.

-"For all practical purposes it is, Harry. It is." Uncle Vernon said these words without looking at Harry. His eyes were on the family picture on the mantel, and Harry was stabbed with the feeling that his uncle was not trying to protect him but the picture perfect family he had created. "It will break your aunt's heart. She has given you so much, and you can't forget that."

-"And I won't!", Harry became agitated. "I'm very thankful for everything you've done for me, Uncle Vernon, but I don't owe you my life. And you don't own my life, either!"

Vernon Dursley's face became rigid. He seemed to fight hard to regain some measure of calmness, or at least, to make his heart beat not so fast.

-"You don't have to be a weirdo like your parents, you silly boy. You can study in a serious school become a useful member of society! That's how you can right what your parents did wrong, that's what we've worked so hard for with you, Harry!"

It was too much for Harry. He felt manipulated and the precious little memory of his parents (created rather from hopes and dreams than solid facts, but still very true), stomped over by Uncle Dursley's size 15 shoe. And that's what made up his mind, while his uncle vociferated and gesticulated like a doll with a mad puppeteer, he promised to himself and the memory of his parents that he would go to that Howard's school (or whatever the name was), and he would find about them, and most importantly, about himself.

oo0oo

Aunt Petunia seemed so disgusted that Harry believed she would never talk to him again. Her horse like facial features contracted all the time as if something in her proximity were smelling afoul. Dudley suddenly become quite sour and mean to him, the full extent of his stupidity exhibited for the world to see, and his Uncle treated him like a dog. And he didn't have clothes or even a trunk, or nothing that would matter (not even money!), but he had a feeling that things would work themselves out, somehow.

Because maybe, after all, magic was real.