Chapter Two:

Harry woke the next morning to see the sun shining in through the window, casting twinkling light beams on the opposite wall, his door painted the freshest white, his sheets perfectly aligned. He put on his glasses. Then he saw the real devastation of yesterday- a giant hole right in the middle of his wall, several dents in his door from the rocks, his sheets obnoxiously lying every which way, with obscene words written on them. He gave a sigh. Better get cleaning. Yeah, right!

Harry got out of bed, and decided to at least pick up the rocks all over his room. These rocks had been sent to him by Lupin a week ago. A note in the package of oddly shaped and colored rocks read:

Dear Harry,

How's your summer been? Hope it's going well. I've just been to Sirius's house to send you these. I know you're going through a hard time now- the death of so many close to you must upset you. Now, these aren't any ordinary rocks, Harry. They're called Nellaphims. And they brighten the spirit. If ever you're feeling down and low, squeeze the rock in your right hand tightly for a few seconds until it disappears. You'll see the effects. The four of us used to use these before full moon. Especially me. Hope to see you soon.

From, Lupin

Once the rocks were back in the box, he re-read the note. Why not? He certainly was in a bad mood. Harry picked up a dark blue rock. It was jagged and thin. He squeezed it in his hand. A sensation unlike anything he'd ever experienced spread through his body- not his body, it didn't feel like his body. Deeper down. His soul. Harry felt light, happy, and confident. The rock had disappeared. Harry jumped up from his place on his bed. Tsk, tsk, he though. How could I have let my room get in such a bad state? All day Harry tidied his room, washed his sheets, and did random chores around the house. Just before dinner, the Dursley's arrived home and the Nellaphims were still working fine on Harry.

"POTTER!" Uncle Vernon roared, the second he was inside. "Yes?" Harry asked, walking down the stairs. "Don't take that tone with me, you ungrateful jerk. What the bloody hell did you think you were doing yesterday? WHAT?" "Oh, I'm sorry, sir," Harry replied with a smile. "Oh, no. What've you done?" Vernon said, backing away. "PETUNIA! Petunia, he's acting weird." Harry just walked up to his uncle and gave him a great big hug, then went upstairs for a nap.

When Harry woke up from his nap, he felt a little disoriented. Then he remembered. "Oh my god," he whispered to himself. What had happened? Those stupid rocks hadn't just put him in a good mood; he had actually hugged his uncle. One thing was sure now; the Neallphims had definitely worn off. Harry felt disgusted with himself.

He decided not to go down to dinner. He needed to plot revenge on the Dursley's. They didn't deserve anything like a hug. They even deserved worse than the gun incident yesterday. So he began to plot...