Facing Uncle Vernon
Harry ambled around the neighborhood before heading back to Privet Drive. Turning up the walk he was greeted by his Uncle's bellow, "BOY! Get in here NOW!"
Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a huge sigh he replied, "Yes Uncle Vernon."
The door was slammed shut behind him and his uncle stood there, red faced and breathing heavily, "Dudley told us what you did today! Let me tell you, threats from those freaks or no threats, I WON'T STAND FOR IT!"
Harry's eyes flashed with indignation. All his life he had to put up with Dudley's bullying and now, when he finally had an edge to keep his cousin a bay, he was being forbidden to stand up for himself. "I'll make you a deal," he offered, "you tell Dudley to stay away from me, and I'll stay away from him."
Vernon huffed, "I'll make no deals with you boy! I'm telling you, you keep that freakishness put away or I'll toss you out on your can!"
Harry's temper flared inside him. He was trying to do everything he could to keep it under control, but he couldn't help retorting, "Do that! Why don't you? Then the protections on this house would fall and you would really find out what kind of freaks there are in the world!"
He stomped up the stairs and slammed his door shut behind him only to have it flung open a moment later. Vernon stood there, anger etched on his florid face, "What do you mean? Protections?"
Harry sighed, "Don't you remember what happened last year?"
His uncle nodded once and stood there, breathing heavily, waiting for more.
"Well," Harry continued, "do you think that Voldemort just went away since then?"
"Still going on about that are you?" Vernon scoffed. "What's so important about you that someone would be so concerned where you are? Not that I don't understand someone hating you enough to want you done in!"
Harry pushed up his bangs and pointed to the lightning bolt shaped scar. "That's what makes me so important to him!" he growled angrily, "I got that when he tried to kill me when I was just a baby. The night he killed my parents he tried to kill me too!"
"Why would someone try to kill a baby?" Vernon continued to scoff, but the color was draining from his face as his temper cooled.
"There's a prophecy," Harry replied evenly.
"A what? A prophecy?" Vernon asked, dumbfounded, "Like that bloke, Nostradamus?"
Harry blinked, he wasn't used to his uncle speaking to him unless he was bellowing at him or ordering him around. "Yes, a prophecy."
Vernon shook his head abruptly, "Well boy, what's this prophecy?"
Harry sighed, he hated thinking about it, but the words were etched in his mind. "The on with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"
"And that scar, that's the mark?" Vernon asked, in an oddly quiet voice.
"Yes."
"How do you know it's you?"
"There's no doubt," Harry replied heavily, he sank down on the chair at his desk, "He's been trying to kill me for years."
"What's this power? The one he doesn't know about?"
"I don't know. I'm still learning."
"And these protections? What are they?"
"I'm not completely certain. It has something to do with me being able to call this place my home. I have to be here at least once a year for the protections to remain. They were set when you and Aunt Petunia took me in, because she's my only living blood relative." Harry answered evenly.
Vernon sat down on Harry's bed, "And if you left, these protections would disappear?"
Harry nodded.
"And Volde-whatsis would come here?"
"Probably," Harry replied, "you see, he delights in fear and death. He might possibly just kill you, to get to me."
Vernon rubbed his face as he sorted his thoughts. "Why? There's no love lost between us."
Harry winced, he'd always known that his uncle didn't care for him, but to have it put so bluntly still hurt. "He doesn't know that. Even if he did, he wouldn't care."
Vernon looked up sharply, "He wouldn't, eh?"
"Anything that would hurt me, he would delight in." Harry told him calmly. "It would make me weak in his eyes."
"You tell me the truth, boy," Vernon demanded, "Are you allowed to use that-that thing yet?"
"Only in life-threatening situations, and even then I'd have to go to trial. Just like last year." Harry answered honestly.
"These protections, what do they do?"
"They keep us hidden from him," Harry answered, "That much I'm sure of. I don't know if they would do anything else."
"Why isn't your government looking for him?" Vernon demanded, "You did tell us last year that your sort has a government right?"
"They denied he was back until recently," Harry answered stiffly, remembering what had happened so very recently.
"Your god-father, what about him? Why isn't he after this Volde-whatsis?" Vernon demanded.
Tears welled in Harry's eyes, stinging painfully, "He's dead. One of Voldemort's witches killed him. That's the night that the ministry admitted he had returned."
Harry couldn't believe that he and his uncle were having a civilized conversation. It was bewildering, but somehow, it was a relief.
"Sorry to hear that," Vernon said gruffly.
Harry nodded. It was still painful to think of Sirius.
"Don't think that all of this is going to make us some sort of happy loving family." Vernon added arrogantly, rising from the bed. "I'll take you up on that deal, though. You stay away from Dudley and I'll tell him to keep away from you."
Harry nodded in agreement, not quite able to say 'thank you' to his uncle. There was too much bad blood between them for that.
"How long will you be staying here this summer? Perhaps it would be best if you went and stayed with one of your kind."
"I'm not sure," Harry answered honestly, "hopefully I'll only be here a couple of weeks."
"Keep me informed, and tell whoever it is that comes to pick you up, to do so in a normal manner," Vernon ordered, "I don't want the fireplace to explode again. And you write to those people and let them know that you are fine."
"I'll do that."
"Then you come downstairs, the lawn needs to be mowed."
"Yes, sir," Harry answered automatically, as his uncle left the room.
He picked up a quill and began to write,
Dear Ron,
You are not going to believe what a day I've had and it's only 2:00 in the afternoon…
Harry dusted off his hands as he finished cleaning the first shelf in Fenton's storeroom when the bell over the door tinkled. Fenton had left pick up some lunch and asked Harry to mind the store for a few minutes. He walked out to the front of the store calling softly, "Can I help you?"
A very pretty girl with merry blue eyes asked, "Where's Uncle Fenton?" Her voice was softly accented, but Harry couldn't quite place where from.
"Oh, he went to pick up some lunch and asked me to mind the store," Harry answered politely, trying not to stare.
The girl smiled as she walked up to the counter, "Well I hope he remembers that I was coming for lunch." She had long honey colored hair pulled up in a ponytail with bright green ribbons that matched her tee shirt.
Harry returned her smile, "I'm Harry, by the way, I'm going to be helping out your uncle for a while, cleaning out his back room."
She wrinkled her nose, "That clutter house? Better you than me! I'm Elizabeth, I help out my uncle once in a while when my family and I visit over the holidays."
"That's nice of you," Harry replied, not knowing what else to say. "Where are you from?"
"Oh, I was born here in England, but my father's job moved him to France several years ago. I go to school there, but I'm sure you wouldn't have heard of it."
"Probably not, but then I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have heard on mine anyway," Harry grinned.
"Probably, I only know of a few and you don't look snobby enough to go to Smeltings," she replied pertly.
Harry snorted, "No, I don't go to Smeltings, but my cousin Dudley does."
"That doesn't tell me where you go," she said, noticing that he tried to avoid the answer.
Harry brushed his hair back from his face, not wanting to lie to this girl and tell her he went to a secure center for criminal boys.
Elizabeth's eyes widened as she saw his scar, "You know," she drawled out slowly, "you just might have heard of my school. It's called Beaubaxton's."
A/N: A bit short and perhaps predictable, but I do have some fun stuff planned. Please review, as I'm sure you know Reviews fuel the fire of creativity!
