A special heartfelt thank you to Taracollowen, my very first, ever review. And yes, I do think I will continue for a long while.

Beep .Beep. Beep. Beep. Harry bolted upright in bed, he glanced around. He automatically turned the alarm clock off. The sun was not visible yet, but it cast a bright orange glow into the sky outside his window. He looked around his dim room, feeling more refreshed than normal, and stood up, stretching his legs. He knew today was a good day, a day to be pleased, but he couldn't quite remember why. Instinctively he grabbed one of Dudley's cast-off shorts and kept them around his waist with a belt Dudley grew out of when he was six. He put on his t-shirt as there was a tap at his window. He was a bit startled to see an incredibly large tawny owl hovering outside. Harry quickly opened the window, afraid that an owl that sized, when impatient might not wait for it to open.

                The owl carried a small package and a note. Harry, seeing the size of the claws of the owl felt it may be better to get on the creature's good side before addressing the parcel hanging very close to the razor like talons. He stroked the owl softly, getting it to emit a very deep and throaty sound that was friendly enough. Harry slowly and carefully untied the package and the owl left beating it's large wings fluently. Harry was undoubtedly relieved the animal left, but could not say he didn't marvel at it. Wondering who would send him anything with such an owl, his attention turned to the package in hand. Harry opened the envelope and read quietly to himself.

                Harry,

I realized when I got home last night that you may have trouble getting to the store if you have no floo-powder. I have sent a small amount to last until you can get some of your own. I don't mind if you are little tardy, because business really doesn't pick up until about eleven. You may want to bring your school work with you because until it gets busy you won't have much to do. I'll see you later.

Spencer.

                "Oh yeah" Harry muttered as he put on his shoes. He was going to begin work today, and he had to do well. He didn't know why, but he had to. Perhaps that was why he was happy. Of course it was, why else would he be happy.

                He sighed and walked out to the landing before tiptoeing down the stairs. Inside it was still dark and he was careful not to wake the Dursleys. They would not have approved of being woken this early by Harry making his way outside. He let out the contents of his lungs when he had closed the door and looked around the neighborhood. He began to jog as he did yesterday, but his sleep had helped him store a lot of energy and he went for nearly twice the distance he went before. When he got to tired to continue, he waited five minutes to catch his breath before jogging home. It wasn't particularly long, he guessed maybe half a mile there and another half back, so one mile. Not very long he admitted, but a start. He watched as the trees and mailboxes went by as he moved back onto Privet drive and up to the house with a number four on the mailbox.

                He stepped inside quietly, and closed the door with a soft click. He bypassed his room and went straight to the bathroom for his shower. He let the warm water run over his body, tingling his senses, and making him feel good, stealing away some of the stress. He was very happy to start work so soon into vacation, it wouldn't give him any time to sulk and be depressed. Work could be the best thing to happen to him this summer. He let the water rinse him for a few more minutes before turning off the tap and staggering out. His legs were stiff and aching and not fully following orders. He brushed his hair neatly, knowing as soon as it dried it would stand up again. Traipsing into his room he got into a clean pair of shorts and boxers, and a recently washed pair of socks. He looked at his chest in the cracked dirty mirror before putting on his shirt. He was pale and skinny, sort of sickly looking. Sirius when he had escaped from Azkaban came to mind. He shivered and quickly put on his shirt. It was understood that Harry would be working in a wizarding environment, so he also put on a Hogwarts robe before picking up his wand.

                He walked down to the hall and looked into the large mirror there. The wand went to his head and he muttered 'Capillus Fuscum' and watched as slowly, the roots of his hair turned from black to a dark earthy brown all the way out to the tips. He was surprised it only took one try. Most magic was more difficult. Next he brought the wand to his right eye, and muttered 'Oculus Caeruleum' and watched his emerald eyes become a uniform sky blue. In all honesty he looked horrid with brown hair and the one blue eye. He got an idea and put his wand to his other eye muttering 'Oculus Fuscum' and smiled as his eye turned from the jungle green to brown. He looked from eye to eye and decided on brown. With a wave of the wand his currently blue eye became a brown eye instead. He smiled at himself, he actually almost could pass as looking a little bit normal. Now the last one. Harry put his want against his scar. The pain was short and sharp. He shrieked in agony as he felt his forehead light on fire.

                Harry found himself on the floor of the hall with his wand nearby. He felt the pain reduce into an ache, and he refused to cry. He would not cry over something so trivial. A noise upstairs took him out of his dozing state, and he listened closely to the thumping of a large man down the stairs. Uncle Vernon came around the banister and into the hall, facing Harry, who was sitting still against the wall.

                "What was that, boy?" He was visibly restraining all of the insults he wanted the shoot. Harry turned his face to him, and was surprised to see Vernon's face soften and his rage disappear.

                "Ummm, I think that was me." Harry said quietly.

                "What happened to your face?" Again, odd behavior from the Dursleys, but to his benefit, so he might as well use it.

"My wand touched my scar, and it hurt. That's all, Uncle Vernon." He said trying to pass it off as magic gone wrong.

"Why's it bleeding?"

"Huh?" said Harry, not really paying attention anymore. Vernon was buttoning his shirt, obviously getting ready for work.

"Your, ummmm, scar. It's bleeding. You should, well, you know, so you don't get blood everywhere." Vernon could not be too nice, because those sly magic folk would surely steal his soul and sacrifice it to the devil if they got close.

"Oh. Okay. I'll just go and wash this off. I'll make breakfast in a minute." Harry got up slowly, testing his legs. They failed. Thud! He fell back against the wall smacking his head. Of course Uncle Vernon could help his nephew, but…..why? So Harry took two deep breaths while Vernon blindly continued buttoning his shirt with a slight frown on his face as he watch Harry struggle to his feet once again. Harry stood and started to walk. Slowly the blood began to pump and in no time he had reached the bathroom.

Another mirror. He looked into it and washed the blood from his forehead. It appeared his scar had reopened, and was very sore. It had clotted, leaving a rather nasty scab. He sighed sullenly and walked back downstairs where he picked up his wand. He knew better than to let it touch again. He held it and inch from his face and murmured 'Celare.' He wasn't sure but he thought he saw it fade for a second before was as clear as always. He tenderly pulled back his hair and tried again. The scar seemed to become blurry, mixing in with the skin around it. It was no where near as clear but evident enough to be noticed, even if it was hiding under his newly colored brown hair.  He took a deep breath and tried again. It became much less conspicuous, but still there if eyes were searching. 'One last time' he thought, and he said 'Celare.' To his distinct pleasure it was now entirely hidden, but still very sore. He touched it gently, like a man touching something worth more than his life. He winced and pulled his hand back, before switching off the hall light and carefully walking into the kitchen to fix breakfast.

Harry made two dozen large breakfast sausage, and ten eggs worth of scrambled eggs. He ate three of the sausage and maybe two of the eggs before he went back up to his room and picked up the box he'd received earlier. He opened it to find what seemed like a small jewelry box, such as that of a ring, filled to the brim with the white powder. He took a pinch, closed the box and placed it under the loose floorboard. Harry grabbed a quill, a bottle of ink, and a few rolls of parchment and pocketed them. He marched down to the living room and glanced in the kitchen. Dudley and Aunt Petunia had arrived and were joining Uncle Vernon at breakfast, who was casually describing Harry's "dangerous seizure" as he from then on called it.

"I'll be going now. I won't see you till five." He forced a smile.

"You changed!" said Aunt Petunia in her short shrill voice.

"Umm, yeah. It's a disguise so the dark wizards can't find me." A lie, no one's perfectly honest.

"How'll you be getting there?" Asked Vernon, suspicious of all of the shady figures (magical folk) that Harry was associated with.

"By the fireplace. Don't worry, I won't blow up the house." Harry turned back to the living room.

"Can I watch?" Yelled Dudley through his eggs. Harry wasn't expecting this.

"Ummm, yeah, I guess." He said loudly, for yelling would surely make all the Dursleys mad. Harry wasn't allowed to raise his voice to that level. It showed strength, power, some things that Harry couldn't have.

Dudley raced into the living room and stood near the doorway. He really had slimmed a bit. He was in no way skinny, or normal weight, but he had lost a lot of weight and Harry had to give him credit. He noticed Vernon stood solidly behind Dudley "just in case" and Petunia next to Vernon. Being mildly embarrassed he raised his wand, and heard a loud gasp from Petunia. He paused, but decided not to respond to it at all, not even with a look. It might be seen as a challenge, and challenging any of the Dursleys was bad news.

"Incendio" He cried, and flames lit up the rarely used and dusty fireplace. There was a loud grunt, if it could be called that from Vernon, Petunia shrieked, but remained watching, Dudley clapped like he just saw a monkey get drunk and break dance. Harry turned to Vernon, who alone among the three seemed the least bit composed. "Uuuuuh, do you want the, the fire to go out after I leave?" He asked as cautiously as he dared. Vernon contemplated this; it wasn't a hard question, but it wasn't one that really mattered. It was just a matter of convenience.

"Yes, you do that." He said gruffly, trying to contain his anxiety.

Harry pointed his wand at himself and muttered "Finis Incendio." Vernon noted nothing visibly happened. Harry threw the pinch of floo-powder into the fireplace which was cracked from years of disuse and stepped in. He felt the familiar warmth surround him and shouted "Flourish and Blotts." With a faint 'pop' Harry disappeared into the flames. Aunt Petunia fainted, Dudley's greedy eyes became large with admiration, and even Vernon allowed an amused smile to break the cast of his mouth. A second after Harry left, the fire went out similarly to a candle that runs out of wick. The only evidence of a fire was the little warmth that penetrated the bricks in the brief blaze.