Author's Note:

Hey! Once again, thank you all so much for the support. I still smile every time I see a new alert for this story, so thanks for making my day. :D If you've reviewed or followed or favd and I haven't gotten back to you yet, I'm so so sorry – I must have missed a notification. They tend to slip through once in a while.

Emily, a wonderful guest reviewer, pointed out that sometimes names aren't capitalized. That's not my spell check, it's the pathetic fact that I can't manage to hit shift and the letter at the same time. Grrr I've done find and replace on all previous chapters as well as this one, so the problem should be fixed now… maybe. If I've missed something, please please inform me so I can fix it. Sorry to anyone else who got annoyed by that.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, that book about Dumbledore would have been published when he was still alive, and we'd all have watched him squirm … enough said. :D

Chapter Three

"Harry, my boy!"

"Coming, Uncle Vernon." With a heavy sigh, Harry stood from the beat-up desk in his room and made his way slowly down the stairs. He had a pretty good guess as to what his uncle wanted. Despite his annoyance, he was pleased to note that his uncle hadn't yelled or called him down in an impolite way. Clearly some of his conditioning was getting through his uncle's thick skull. He must be finally starting to learn that yelling at Harry would only cause him problems. After all, that was what had made him upset the first time. Other notable times included Vernon or Petunia demanding him to cook or clean or tend to the garden. They left him alone for the most part now. Or perhaps, Harry considered, Vernon was just sucking up. With this thought in mind, his annoyance and frustration grew even more.

"yes, Uncle Vernon?" Harry spoke softly as he entered the living room. His uncle didn't like to be disturbed while he was watching the news. Harry decided it was best to stick to most of Vernon's rules as part of his "don't push your luck" policy, no matter how angry he got.

"Come sit," the obese man said kindly, gesturing to the couch.

At this, Harry's mouth tightened in suspicion and displeasure. He'd been thinking through some ways to dissuade his uncle from going after his inheritance. Now it was time to choose one. He stepped gingerly over to the couch and sat on the edge of the cushion. He said nothing, waiting for his uncle to continue. If he was going to use the technique of flattering Harry, perhaps he wouldn't even have to scare the man. Perhaps…

"How was your day, my boy?" Vernon could play nice, but Harry saw right down to the look of greed in the man's pig-like face.

Aha! Step one: Make Vernon crack. The Dursleys hated anything abnormal, especially magic.

Harry's face lit up. "Very good, sir. A professor from Hogwarts took me to this magic alley where I bought all my schoolbooks and potions supplies—and a real, actual wand!"

Vernon's lips tightened in displeasure, but he forced out, "very nice. When did you say you're going to that school of yours?"

"September first, sir."

Vernon grunted. "Say, weren't your parents rich?"

Ah, that had taken much less time than Harry had expected. "yes sir. They left me quite the inheritance. I could easily live my whole entire life without lifting a finger!" Harry adopted a dreamy tone and let his eyes slip out of focus behind his glasses.

"You know, they left us nothing in their will when they—er—died."

Harry pretended not to notice Vernon's stumbling over word choice for his parents' demise. "Really, sir? That's such a shame. I wish I could help, but I can't reach much of it myself."

"Come now, my boy. We've spent plenty on you. We've provided all your necessities. Surely you could pass on what little you are able to touch?" Vernon had dropped any pretense of civility. He was almost spitting the last several words in his desperation to get whatever he could.

"I would, sir, but they only left me enough to buy my school supplies. But"—Harry adopted a hopeful expression, and Vernon's face lit up as well—"maybe if you went to the bank they'd be willing to give you more; you know, as my guardians. But you'd have to be careful—it's run by goblins. Can you believe it?! Real goblins! Oh, and you'd probably have to prove that you're actually supposed to be my guardians," Harry added with a knowing glint in his eye.

This, of course, Vernon could not do. Dumbledore had placed Harry there himself and explained the situation—he'd seen it all in Petunia's mind. Plus, from the little Harry knew of his parents, they would have chosen just about anyone else before the Dursleys to take care of Harry in the event of their passing. So assuming Vernon actually wanted to jump through all those hoops to get his money (or, more likely, send someone to do it for him), he couldn't prove that he had any right to it. In fact, if things worked out right, he might even be able to figure out what had happened to his parents' suggestions. Or alternatively, he could make Vernon lose it entirely. And if that happened… suffice it to say, Harry would much prefer the former.

But the latter seemed more and more likely as time passed. Vernon's face slowly turned purple, and the veins in his neck and temples began throbbing. He was stuck, and he knew it. Harry thought fast.

"I wouldn't attack if I were you," Harry said quietly. "You didn't meet the woman who turned aunt Petunia into that lovely duck you found in your foyer, but I can call her back. Or better, I could do it myself with my new magic books and wand. How would you ever get my money if you suddenly became, say, a whale?"

With this, Vernon's temper hit an all-time high. "You dare—" But Harry breathed half a sigh of relief as he saw the man visibly try to reel it back in.

"You'd better give us something as soon as you can get at it," Vernon spat out finally. "It's the least we deserve for taking care of a freak like you for so long. Now—get out of my sight!" He yelled this last part, spittle flying from his lips to land on his bulging stomach.

Harry had to confess himself disappointed. It seemed Vernon still hadn't learned his lesson about treating Harry nicely. But if Harry pushed it now, Vernon would go over the edge. And Harry did not want to have any more of his bones broken. So without another word, he stood and retired to his room.

… … …

The next several days found Harry memorizing his new textbooks. He already knew most of the material in them from when Tom had learned it, but things had changed since he had been at Hogwarts. The last thing Harry wanted was to write or say information that was out of date.

IN studying, he found that standards had dropped in the last fifty years. Probably Dumbledore's doing, Harry thought with a sneer. His strategy against Tom's regime was clearly going well. Bring muggleborns into the world, make their transition easier on them by removing dark material from the curriculum, convince them that light equals good and dark equals evil, and voila. Instant army, instant divide between those who regurgitate what they were taught and those who were raised with the old traditions and therefore know better. It only worked because he was in such a position of power as Headmaster of Hogwarts. But if Harry had his way, things would soon go back to how they used to be.

Harry had seen evidence of this divide for himself in Diagon Alley (and wasn't that a surreal experience!). While getting his robes sized, he'd met Ronald Weasley, a child from one of the families who supported Dumbledore. He'd told Harry his entire life's story (or at least, the part that had brought him to meet the Boy-Who-Lived): he was too tall for any available hand-me-down robes. The only ones that would fit him were currently being used by his older brothers. Harry had seen this as his opportunity to get in with the right crowd for his persona, so he'd patiently listened and added commentary where necessary. It took very little of his brain power; Harry hoped the rest of Ronald's family were a little more intelligent.

Then he'd met Ron's mother whom, upon meeting him, had all but insisted that Harry could be part of their family too. As annoying as it was, at least he didn't have to try to get in their good graces. But good gods, it would be a long few years until he could finally take his place beside Tom. But until then, he'd just have to play his part.

Author's Note:

Remember that Harry is ten, almost eleven. He has intelligent thoughts, but he must speak as someone his age would. Speaking of which, this is about all we'll learn from him for a while. I've covered most of my bases, and I think I have his personality the way I want it. What do you think of my Harry so far?

I know very little about how wills and guardians and such things work. So if I'm wrong … let's just say it's a quirk of the Wizarding world, shall we?

Please note that Harry does not see Tom in a romantic way at all (at this point). He's sort of like an idol/mentor/best friend. His hormones haven't kicked in yet… :D

Next chapter they're off to Hogwarts! What will happen on the train? (Perhaps if you review with your guesses you'll give me some ideas. :D) Will Harry drop his Slytherin mask to make friends, or will he stick to his Golden Boy image? You shall find out … Tomorrow night! (Hopefully. And depending on your time zone.)