~* Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling deserves all credit*~
When Nightmares Are A Good Thing
Chapter 5: Weight Lifting with Dudley
Morning dawned incredibly bright and with great audacity. The aurora's first arms of light seemed to ignore the curtains of the smallest bedroom in Privet Drive number 4, reaching past the dull cloth -intending to defy the sun- and shining on the attenuated boy. Not that Harry was sleeping, of course, but rather lying in bed to await the daylight.
Sensing that he could in fact get out of bed without waking any of the other inhabitants of the household, Harry tentatively walked to his desk, and pulled a piece of parchment out of a drawer. He ghosted over the words before folding it up and tying it to Hedwig's awaiting leg.
"Be careful out there, girl," Harry cautioned his owl.
Hedwig's amber eyes gave him an annoyed look before hooting and nipping his finger affectionately
The third week of July was just starting – yet, to Harry, it felt like he had been at Hogwarts just yesterday.
'That's probably cause I saw Sirius DIE again yesterday!'
Studying and physical training helped to occupy his time and mind for a short while, but his concentration would sometimes slip up and focus on the real reason he was preparing himself; his motivation; Sirius. Harry was, nonetheless, most certainly better now then he had been in his first week back 'home'.
Today was a Sunday and Harry had nothing left to do. He had read all his schoolbooks respectively and had completed his essays with such assiduousness, that it was sure to not only achieve the highest marks in his class, but also impress his teachers with his proficiency. The teenage boy couldn't help but smile at the imagery of his best friend, Hermione's face when she saw the outcome of their holiday assignments.
Harry wasted no time in doing his routine work out. His body had gotten past the first stage of exercise, and was now taking to his hard work quite nicely. In truth, Harry had increased his repetitions from one hundred, to one hundred and fifty just as soon as he the pain had ebbed away.
After a luke-warm shower and a breakfast consisting of an appropriated mug of coffee from under his Aunt's disapproving eye, Harry sat at his desk drawing up a list of spells, charms, and defenses among other things he needed to learn. So far he had written the following:
Apparation
Port Key Spell
Wards (silencing and privacy)
None of that could be done without the proper books, obviously, which is why Harry could be found posting the 'List of Things to Learn' next to his annual 'Days Until Hogwarts' calendar on the wall by his bed, in the corner of his room.
Realization that there was nothing for him to do struck Harry. He sank into his bed; lulling through the previous dreams he had had to record earlier. His parent's had died again. Harry couldn't help but feel guilt as he listened with a blindfolded head.
'Get over it Potter. There's nothing you can do to take it back.'
No matter what, he knew -deep inside- that he would always carry the of his parent's deaths along with Cedric's and Sirius's. All he could do now was prevent himself from causing another.
At midday, Hedwig flew back in through the open window in his room with a note attached. Harry reached over and took it, while guiding his snowy owl to her cage where fresh water and an owl treat were waiting for her.
It was another letter from Remus Lupin. With an exaggerated sigh, Harry committed himself to actually read the note and send reply. He had a bad feeling that nobody at headquarters was buying his act through his letters. The words that were scrawled on the page before him only confirmed his suspicions.
Dear Harry,
So, how have you been? Really, Harry! I'm not as thick as you might think! I know you are hurting, as am I. We have both lost someone very close to us, I think it is only fitting that we rely on each other for support. I really want to help you, Harry. I know Sirius would have wanted us to be close, in the case of his absence. Besides that, James and Lily would also have wanted this...and so do I. I care so much about you, Harry. Please keep that in mind.
I am here for you,
Remus J. Lupin
Harry begrudgingly picked up his quill and jotted down a quick reply.
Professor Lupin,
If you know how I am hurting, why must you ask how I feel? If I am hurt from our loss, then obviously I am not in any form to talk about it until the pain has dulled. Not to be rude, but I really wish everyone would stop bothering me about it. Honestly, do I walk around spouting tears and breaking down? Then why does everyone think I am not okay? Anyway, thanks for your proposal. Also, why do you bother signing your full name? The only thing it has accomplished is the realization that we have the same middle initial! There's really no need for that sort of formalities, is there?
Sincerely,
Harry J. Potter
The letter, in which Harry successfully maneuvered around Remus' proposition, was sent back with Hedwig. It was very brief, and slightly stoic but Harry couldn't be bothered with sharing his weaknesses with the last marauder. That is what he was, wasn't it? The last marauder. On second thought, Harry should have been more sympathetic with the werewolf. After all, he had lost all of his 'pack' to Voldemort all because Harry wouldn't die due to some stupid prophecy. Maybe, instead of spending all of his time worrying over his own troubles, Harry should be focusing on rectifying the troubles he had caused the people around him. Yes, Harry would certainly have to stop being so selfish. He was their 'savior', wasn't he?
The teenage boy departed from his room only to appear in the kitchen a few moments later. As he sat down eating half a cheese sandwich for his lunch, the doorbell rang. Harry stood up and went to open it but Aunt Petunia had actually beaten him to it. It was such a shock that nobody had shouted at him to do it, that at first Harry didn't notice the postal service employee handing over a parcel with his name on it.
Once the postman had left, his Aunt wheeled around with the box, which was wrapped in brown paper. Her lips were pursed together tightly that he doubted he had ever seen someone press their mouths closed as hard as that of his Aunt. Well, maybe Hermione and Professor McGonagall. A sudden image of Hermione, Professor McGonagall, and his Aunt Petunia all participating in a 'Lip Pursing Contest' floated to the front of Harry's mind. A sneer was repressed as he accepted the box from his Aunt's recalcitrant arms.
Knowing very well that his Aunt Petunia would not take kindly to the opening of the box in privet, Harry careful examined the handwriting on the top. It read from 'Gred and Forge and also appeared to be in one of their handwritings. Still untrusting, Harry peeked inside to see about a dozen books and four or five packs of cigarettes as well as another brown-wrapped box and letter.
A 'humph' was heard over his shoulder. Harry turned and looked directly at his Aunt's disbelieving face.
"Why in the world would someone send you paper?" came her leery question.
Harry was slightly confused for a moment, and then he remembered that he had asked the twins to charm the items. Obviously, the true contents were under a spell so that the Dursley's would only see stacks of parchment.
"Well, seeing as I need to write to someone once every three days, not including any addition letters and homework that require paper, they probably anticipated that I would run out eventually. I think I may even receive a parcel of clothes, sometime soon." Harry replied nonchalantly.
Petunia's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing as she went back to ignoring her nephew.
A few moments later Harry and his parcel were safely enclosed behind his bedroom door. With a very close investigation Harry guessed that the box was charmed feather light, and with a concealment charm to disguise itself as paper to anyone other than the twins and Harry. Also a sizing charm, to allow many more items to fit in, when the actually size of the box would normally have demanded it was physically impossible. Sometimes magic could be such a blessing.
There were thirteen books in the box. As Harry lifted the out of the container, he noticed that some were fairly used while other seemed to be brand new. The twins had managed to get all of the books that he had truly wanted. "The Theory of Occlumency and How to apply it" was the first he examined. Next was "Dueling for Experts" and "Defense for the Strong willed,"
'Well, THAT'S am ironic title! Me, strong willed?'
The rest of the brand new books were titled "Magic for the Wandless", "Everyday Household Spells", "A Healer's Guide to Healing", "So You Want to be an Animagus", and "Appearances; Outside and within". The older books turned out to be for Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, and another Defense Against the Dark Arts book. Since they were second hand, Harry only assumed that the twins had given them a set of their own.
Harry neatly stacked his new books along the wall in his tiny bedroom where his other schoolbooks were place. Returning to the box, Harry pulled out the four packs of cigarettes. Looking around the room for a place to hide for a later use, he finally settled on burying them in the still-damp tee shirt at the bottom of his wardrobe. He
The only thing left was in the box now was yet ANOTHER brown parcel with a note attached.
Rarhy,
Hope you received this all right. The charms on that we placed on the box should last a week or two, no less. We decided to pass on some of our books from sixth year on to you. Since we have no idea what courses you will take, this seemed to be the only way to get you text without asking a professor about it and arousing suspicion. The other books we picked out for you and hope they are to your liking. As you have probably guessed, neither of us wanted to take potions with that ... Anyway, it was Bill's, and then passes on to ...well, we won't go into THAT but it has only been used twice so it should be in slightly better shape. If you find that you don't have all the needed (or wanted) books, let us know. We'd be glad to help out. The cigarettes have been charmed to inflict no harm whatsoever on the smoker. We also added a charm to hide the smell. Honestly, the people who were using those things outside of the store!!! And we thought dung bombs were bad! Anyway, the other box is a...care package as a gift from us to you. I think the cloths are pretty self-explanatory. Dragon hide will not repel all spells, but it helps with most. Think of them as armor. The rest is something we saw in the convenient store and thought you might find appealing. Use it wisely, my friend. Not that any of it was hard to obtain. We thought for sure we'd be in need of a strong disguise. Muggles these days are either very stupid, or very lazy!
The Pranksters That You Chose To Benefit,
Gred and Forge Weasley
With great anticipation, Harry opened the smaller box expecting some Weasley Wizarding Wheezes or some other prank. He was genuinely surprised when he pulled out a pair of black dragon hide leather pants and boots to match. Another note fluttered to the floor as Harry shook the leather trousers free of its wrinkles.
P.S. Don't worry about the sizing, mate. They are spelled to tailor themselves to a perfect fit for you the first time you put them on.
Harry laughed out loud at the irony in the similarities of the leather outfit and the Weasley twins. Fred and George, as beaters for the Gryffindor quidditch team, would always do their best to protect Harry from bludgers, but they could only truly help out if the bludgers was aimed directly at him, the seeker. Now, Harry supposed the pants and boots would ward off any spells, providing they were aimed directly at what was covered in the leather. It was rather like having the Weasley twin's protection with him at all times.
Peering back into the parcel, Harry spotted two glass bottles that contained a clear liquid and two small white container that held tiny pills. Examining the labels, the first two objects proved to be hard liquor. The pills turned out to be aspirin; one was just for everyday headaches and such. The other had a sleeping aide imbedded in it to help sleep through the ailment of whatever the user was inflicted with. With the gifts that the twins had sent, Harry wondered if they were trying to help him escape from the muggles and from the realization that his Godfather was gone, or if they knew of his nightmares. Surely, they would keep this a private matter. If not, at least he wouldn't have to work at keeping his secrets anymore. Either way it went, Harry seemed to win out.
He quickly packed the alcohol and aspirin back in to the small box. He then retrieved the previously hidden cigarettes, keeping out one pack for later, and placed them in the box as well When the box was hidden under the loose floorboard, Harry stood up and made his way across the hall to Dudley's room. He knocked on the door lightly before entering.
His pig of a cousin was laying on his bed, as Harry had been accustomed to doing, and staring up at the ceiling. He glanced at Harry, and jerked upright.
"What are you doing in here? Get out or I'll tell Dad!" Dudley began immediately.
"Look, I wanted to make you an offer. I need to trade you something," Harry said in hurry before Dudley could yell and push him out of the room.
"Why would I want to trade you anything? It's not like you've got anything I want!" the fat whale snorted.
With a mischievous grin, Harry reached in his overly large trouser pocket and pulled out a brand new pack of cigarettes, "Oh, really. Well, I guess these will go to waste!" he tempted, waving them up for Dudley to see and read the label.
"H-how? How didjya? Where did those come from?" came his stuttered reply.
"Well, obviously from a convenient store. Like I said, I want to make a trade with you," Harry paused to survey the other boy, who was recovering from his shock at seeing his dilapidated cousin with cigarettes and was now trying not to seem too eager, "You see, I wish to train my body and you seem to have a weight bench. For one pack of cigs a week, you let me use your weight bench once a day."
Dudley seemed to consider this. He obviously would lose nothing, but gain something he wanted. At the same time, he would be giving Harry something he wanted. The wheels of his mind could almost be seen turning, or rather creaking. Whose needs were more important?
After another minuet Dudley asked, "How would you be able to get in the shed without Mum and Dad noticing?"
Harry was slightly shocked at the intelligent response. "Well, how about if you complain to Uncle Vernon about ho you need someone in there when you work out to add weight to the bar and stuff. You know, get him to force me. Then, when we are in the shed, you can smoke while I get to use your equipment. Deal?"
Dudley fidgeted where he was sitting on his bed. He bit his lip and looked Harry over. In one motion, he stood up and walked over to Harry and grabbed the cigarettes from his hand. After looking at the box closely, he glanced at Harry uncertainly.
"So...you get me one pack of smokes a week, and all I have to do is get Dad to allow you to follow me into the shed once a day?"
With a smile, Harry nodded his head, "Yes, but we don't tell anyone about our deal. Nobody but us two is to know about this, okay?"
Dudley narrowed his eyes in suspicion and said, "If you tell I swear you'll regret it!" while cracking his knuckles, with a Crab-like mannerism.
Harry swallowed, not because he was afraid of anything (through he knew Dudley wasn't joking around when he issued the threat), but because it was always a good ego booster for Dudley.
With a smirk, Dudley opened the pack and slid out two skinny round sticks into his pudgy palm. Carefully placing them in his sock to keep the lighter company, he strode over to the door of his bedroom.
"Give me a few minuets," he called over his shoulder before walking as fastly as his body would allow him to go.
Harry exited Dudley well furnished bedroom and entered his own plain and barren one. He searched his room to make sure that all of the items he had received from Fred and George were out of sight and well hidden, he sat down at his desk. The broken clock said that it was fifteen after five in the evening. Uncle Vernon was probably just getting home. With a sigh, Harry looked over the books that were stacked neatly against his wall. He carefully read over the titles of the new ones and put them in order of what he needed to read first, which he decided on occulemency.
All of the sudden a bellowing voice from the kitchen shouted, "BOY!!!"
Harry jogged down the stairs and made his way towards his uncle, who seemed to be holding back a smirk.
"It seems that my Dudley here, needs someone to spot for him while he doing his weight lifting. Do whatever he tells you to, boy!" Uncle Vernon spat in a manner that was reserved for him and only him but not a second after he said it; Aunt Petunia shot him a nervous warning look. "Right, well if you would be...willing we'll pay you a fifty cent pence each day."
Harry took a moment to pretend to consider before nodding his head in silent agreement. Without a word, Vernon reached a meaty hand into his trouser pocket and produced the promised payment. Of course, the money could barely buy anything; at least the Order's threat had inspired his Uncle to make an intending offer.
"Let's go now, or we won't be in time for my dinner!"
A few moments later, Harry found himself standing outside the shed by the garden behind his cousin. He watched with mild interest as Dudley fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked the large padlock similar to the one on the door leading to Harry's bedroom.
Inside there was last year's living room couch, an old wooden chair, a weight bench complete with a bar loaded with iron, and dumbbells that littered the cement floor. Harry cast a curious eye towards Dudley, who was already settling himself on the couch while lighting up the first of his cigarettes.
"I usually just move the dumbbells around and stuff to make it look like I do what I'm supposed to." The large boy explained stiffly through a puff of odorless smoke.
Quickly, Harry started unloading the iron from the bar. It took five minuets seeing as there was at least three hundred pounds worth set up for Dudley. It turned out to be very challenging for Harry just to work his way to the bar, but eventually he was indeed lying awkwardly on his back staring at the plain bar. He reached up and took hold. It was a difficult task; bring the metal down to his chest and lifting it back up. Harry was only able to do this ten times before his arms felt like gelatin.
"Try lifting the dumbbells like this..." Dudley spoke up, having sensed that Harry didn't actually know what to do next. He made an example by motioning with his arm and cigarette.
Picking up one of the smaller weights, Harry did his best to copy Dudley's example; bringing his arm from parallel to his body, up to his shoulder by bending his elbow all the way.
Harry lifted the iron as many times as he could, waiting for the pain to kick in. fifty repetitions with each arm was all it took for his body to feel completely spent, which worked out fine because by that time Dudley had smoked both of his cigarettes.
The weights were lifted back onto the iron bar, and the padlock was locked behind them as soon as both the boys had left the shed and proceeded to dinner.
Dinner that night was a quiet affair, the only noise being that of his cousin and uncle's fork scraping the plate as they tried to lap up every morsel, while Harry forced himself to eat a bit of mashed potatoes and stew.
Silently, Harry excused himself from the table and placed his dishes in the sink. He left the kitchen without a word to the rest of the household, and retired to his room.
The teenager was too drained physically to worry about showering or changing, therefore he simply settled into a sitting position on his bed, resting his head and back against the headboard with The Theory of Occlumency, and how to apply it.
The subject, surprisingly, was very easy for Harry to comprehend. It helped to actually read the basics and learn the "whys" and "hows" of the effects and consequences of the art. The book was only three hundred pages long, seeing as it was only the basics and the theory. Harry had read it completely and thoroughly by midnight.
Harry knew he should not avoid sleep, but confront it, yet he found himself rereading the first chapter by arguing that he didn't quite understand. Just as soon as he would shake his head to wake up, his eyes would droop shut again. Sighing, the boy placed his book on his night table along with his shirt (although it was very painful to take off) and his glasses.
Wand in hand, Harry slid into bed. Summoning all of his focus, he erected a mental shield around his mind before he allowed sleep to claim him.
When Nightmares Are A Good Thing
Chapter 5: Weight Lifting with Dudley
Morning dawned incredibly bright and with great audacity. The aurora's first arms of light seemed to ignore the curtains of the smallest bedroom in Privet Drive number 4, reaching past the dull cloth -intending to defy the sun- and shining on the attenuated boy. Not that Harry was sleeping, of course, but rather lying in bed to await the daylight.
Sensing that he could in fact get out of bed without waking any of the other inhabitants of the household, Harry tentatively walked to his desk, and pulled a piece of parchment out of a drawer. He ghosted over the words before folding it up and tying it to Hedwig's awaiting leg.
"Be careful out there, girl," Harry cautioned his owl.
Hedwig's amber eyes gave him an annoyed look before hooting and nipping his finger affectionately
The third week of July was just starting – yet, to Harry, it felt like he had been at Hogwarts just yesterday.
'That's probably cause I saw Sirius DIE again yesterday!'
Studying and physical training helped to occupy his time and mind for a short while, but his concentration would sometimes slip up and focus on the real reason he was preparing himself; his motivation; Sirius. Harry was, nonetheless, most certainly better now then he had been in his first week back 'home'.
Today was a Sunday and Harry had nothing left to do. He had read all his schoolbooks respectively and had completed his essays with such assiduousness, that it was sure to not only achieve the highest marks in his class, but also impress his teachers with his proficiency. The teenage boy couldn't help but smile at the imagery of his best friend, Hermione's face when she saw the outcome of their holiday assignments.
Harry wasted no time in doing his routine work out. His body had gotten past the first stage of exercise, and was now taking to his hard work quite nicely. In truth, Harry had increased his repetitions from one hundred, to one hundred and fifty just as soon as he the pain had ebbed away.
After a luke-warm shower and a breakfast consisting of an appropriated mug of coffee from under his Aunt's disapproving eye, Harry sat at his desk drawing up a list of spells, charms, and defenses among other things he needed to learn. So far he had written the following:
Apparation
Port Key Spell
Wards (silencing and privacy)
None of that could be done without the proper books, obviously, which is why Harry could be found posting the 'List of Things to Learn' next to his annual 'Days Until Hogwarts' calendar on the wall by his bed, in the corner of his room.
Realization that there was nothing for him to do struck Harry. He sank into his bed; lulling through the previous dreams he had had to record earlier. His parent's had died again. Harry couldn't help but feel guilt as he listened with a blindfolded head.
'Get over it Potter. There's nothing you can do to take it back.'
No matter what, he knew -deep inside- that he would always carry the of his parent's deaths along with Cedric's and Sirius's. All he could do now was prevent himself from causing another.
At midday, Hedwig flew back in through the open window in his room with a note attached. Harry reached over and took it, while guiding his snowy owl to her cage where fresh water and an owl treat were waiting for her.
It was another letter from Remus Lupin. With an exaggerated sigh, Harry committed himself to actually read the note and send reply. He had a bad feeling that nobody at headquarters was buying his act through his letters. The words that were scrawled on the page before him only confirmed his suspicions.
Dear Harry,
So, how have you been? Really, Harry! I'm not as thick as you might think! I know you are hurting, as am I. We have both lost someone very close to us, I think it is only fitting that we rely on each other for support. I really want to help you, Harry. I know Sirius would have wanted us to be close, in the case of his absence. Besides that, James and Lily would also have wanted this...and so do I. I care so much about you, Harry. Please keep that in mind.
I am here for you,
Remus J. Lupin
Harry begrudgingly picked up his quill and jotted down a quick reply.
Professor Lupin,
If you know how I am hurting, why must you ask how I feel? If I am hurt from our loss, then obviously I am not in any form to talk about it until the pain has dulled. Not to be rude, but I really wish everyone would stop bothering me about it. Honestly, do I walk around spouting tears and breaking down? Then why does everyone think I am not okay? Anyway, thanks for your proposal. Also, why do you bother signing your full name? The only thing it has accomplished is the realization that we have the same middle initial! There's really no need for that sort of formalities, is there?
Sincerely,
Harry J. Potter
The letter, in which Harry successfully maneuvered around Remus' proposition, was sent back with Hedwig. It was very brief, and slightly stoic but Harry couldn't be bothered with sharing his weaknesses with the last marauder. That is what he was, wasn't it? The last marauder. On second thought, Harry should have been more sympathetic with the werewolf. After all, he had lost all of his 'pack' to Voldemort all because Harry wouldn't die due to some stupid prophecy. Maybe, instead of spending all of his time worrying over his own troubles, Harry should be focusing on rectifying the troubles he had caused the people around him. Yes, Harry would certainly have to stop being so selfish. He was their 'savior', wasn't he?
The teenage boy departed from his room only to appear in the kitchen a few moments later. As he sat down eating half a cheese sandwich for his lunch, the doorbell rang. Harry stood up and went to open it but Aunt Petunia had actually beaten him to it. It was such a shock that nobody had shouted at him to do it, that at first Harry didn't notice the postal service employee handing over a parcel with his name on it.
Once the postman had left, his Aunt wheeled around with the box, which was wrapped in brown paper. Her lips were pursed together tightly that he doubted he had ever seen someone press their mouths closed as hard as that of his Aunt. Well, maybe Hermione and Professor McGonagall. A sudden image of Hermione, Professor McGonagall, and his Aunt Petunia all participating in a 'Lip Pursing Contest' floated to the front of Harry's mind. A sneer was repressed as he accepted the box from his Aunt's recalcitrant arms.
Knowing very well that his Aunt Petunia would not take kindly to the opening of the box in privet, Harry careful examined the handwriting on the top. It read from 'Gred and Forge and also appeared to be in one of their handwritings. Still untrusting, Harry peeked inside to see about a dozen books and four or five packs of cigarettes as well as another brown-wrapped box and letter.
A 'humph' was heard over his shoulder. Harry turned and looked directly at his Aunt's disbelieving face.
"Why in the world would someone send you paper?" came her leery question.
Harry was slightly confused for a moment, and then he remembered that he had asked the twins to charm the items. Obviously, the true contents were under a spell so that the Dursley's would only see stacks of parchment.
"Well, seeing as I need to write to someone once every three days, not including any addition letters and homework that require paper, they probably anticipated that I would run out eventually. I think I may even receive a parcel of clothes, sometime soon." Harry replied nonchalantly.
Petunia's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing as she went back to ignoring her nephew.
A few moments later Harry and his parcel were safely enclosed behind his bedroom door. With a very close investigation Harry guessed that the box was charmed feather light, and with a concealment charm to disguise itself as paper to anyone other than the twins and Harry. Also a sizing charm, to allow many more items to fit in, when the actually size of the box would normally have demanded it was physically impossible. Sometimes magic could be such a blessing.
There were thirteen books in the box. As Harry lifted the out of the container, he noticed that some were fairly used while other seemed to be brand new. The twins had managed to get all of the books that he had truly wanted. "The Theory of Occlumency and How to apply it" was the first he examined. Next was "Dueling for Experts" and "Defense for the Strong willed,"
'Well, THAT'S am ironic title! Me, strong willed?'
The rest of the brand new books were titled "Magic for the Wandless", "Everyday Household Spells", "A Healer's Guide to Healing", "So You Want to be an Animagus", and "Appearances; Outside and within". The older books turned out to be for Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, and another Defense Against the Dark Arts book. Since they were second hand, Harry only assumed that the twins had given them a set of their own.
Harry neatly stacked his new books along the wall in his tiny bedroom where his other schoolbooks were place. Returning to the box, Harry pulled out the four packs of cigarettes. Looking around the room for a place to hide for a later use, he finally settled on burying them in the still-damp tee shirt at the bottom of his wardrobe. He
The only thing left was in the box now was yet ANOTHER brown parcel with a note attached.
Rarhy,
Hope you received this all right. The charms on that we placed on the box should last a week or two, no less. We decided to pass on some of our books from sixth year on to you. Since we have no idea what courses you will take, this seemed to be the only way to get you text without asking a professor about it and arousing suspicion. The other books we picked out for you and hope they are to your liking. As you have probably guessed, neither of us wanted to take potions with that ... Anyway, it was Bill's, and then passes on to ...well, we won't go into THAT but it has only been used twice so it should be in slightly better shape. If you find that you don't have all the needed (or wanted) books, let us know. We'd be glad to help out. The cigarettes have been charmed to inflict no harm whatsoever on the smoker. We also added a charm to hide the smell. Honestly, the people who were using those things outside of the store!!! And we thought dung bombs were bad! Anyway, the other box is a...care package as a gift from us to you. I think the cloths are pretty self-explanatory. Dragon hide will not repel all spells, but it helps with most. Think of them as armor. The rest is something we saw in the convenient store and thought you might find appealing. Use it wisely, my friend. Not that any of it was hard to obtain. We thought for sure we'd be in need of a strong disguise. Muggles these days are either very stupid, or very lazy!
The Pranksters That You Chose To Benefit,
Gred and Forge Weasley
With great anticipation, Harry opened the smaller box expecting some Weasley Wizarding Wheezes or some other prank. He was genuinely surprised when he pulled out a pair of black dragon hide leather pants and boots to match. Another note fluttered to the floor as Harry shook the leather trousers free of its wrinkles.
P.S. Don't worry about the sizing, mate. They are spelled to tailor themselves to a perfect fit for you the first time you put them on.
Harry laughed out loud at the irony in the similarities of the leather outfit and the Weasley twins. Fred and George, as beaters for the Gryffindor quidditch team, would always do their best to protect Harry from bludgers, but they could only truly help out if the bludgers was aimed directly at him, the seeker. Now, Harry supposed the pants and boots would ward off any spells, providing they were aimed directly at what was covered in the leather. It was rather like having the Weasley twin's protection with him at all times.
Peering back into the parcel, Harry spotted two glass bottles that contained a clear liquid and two small white container that held tiny pills. Examining the labels, the first two objects proved to be hard liquor. The pills turned out to be aspirin; one was just for everyday headaches and such. The other had a sleeping aide imbedded in it to help sleep through the ailment of whatever the user was inflicted with. With the gifts that the twins had sent, Harry wondered if they were trying to help him escape from the muggles and from the realization that his Godfather was gone, or if they knew of his nightmares. Surely, they would keep this a private matter. If not, at least he wouldn't have to work at keeping his secrets anymore. Either way it went, Harry seemed to win out.
He quickly packed the alcohol and aspirin back in to the small box. He then retrieved the previously hidden cigarettes, keeping out one pack for later, and placed them in the box as well When the box was hidden under the loose floorboard, Harry stood up and made his way across the hall to Dudley's room. He knocked on the door lightly before entering.
His pig of a cousin was laying on his bed, as Harry had been accustomed to doing, and staring up at the ceiling. He glanced at Harry, and jerked upright.
"What are you doing in here? Get out or I'll tell Dad!" Dudley began immediately.
"Look, I wanted to make you an offer. I need to trade you something," Harry said in hurry before Dudley could yell and push him out of the room.
"Why would I want to trade you anything? It's not like you've got anything I want!" the fat whale snorted.
With a mischievous grin, Harry reached in his overly large trouser pocket and pulled out a brand new pack of cigarettes, "Oh, really. Well, I guess these will go to waste!" he tempted, waving them up for Dudley to see and read the label.
"H-how? How didjya? Where did those come from?" came his stuttered reply.
"Well, obviously from a convenient store. Like I said, I want to make a trade with you," Harry paused to survey the other boy, who was recovering from his shock at seeing his dilapidated cousin with cigarettes and was now trying not to seem too eager, "You see, I wish to train my body and you seem to have a weight bench. For one pack of cigs a week, you let me use your weight bench once a day."
Dudley seemed to consider this. He obviously would lose nothing, but gain something he wanted. At the same time, he would be giving Harry something he wanted. The wheels of his mind could almost be seen turning, or rather creaking. Whose needs were more important?
After another minuet Dudley asked, "How would you be able to get in the shed without Mum and Dad noticing?"
Harry was slightly shocked at the intelligent response. "Well, how about if you complain to Uncle Vernon about ho you need someone in there when you work out to add weight to the bar and stuff. You know, get him to force me. Then, when we are in the shed, you can smoke while I get to use your equipment. Deal?"
Dudley fidgeted where he was sitting on his bed. He bit his lip and looked Harry over. In one motion, he stood up and walked over to Harry and grabbed the cigarettes from his hand. After looking at the box closely, he glanced at Harry uncertainly.
"So...you get me one pack of smokes a week, and all I have to do is get Dad to allow you to follow me into the shed once a day?"
With a smile, Harry nodded his head, "Yes, but we don't tell anyone about our deal. Nobody but us two is to know about this, okay?"
Dudley narrowed his eyes in suspicion and said, "If you tell I swear you'll regret it!" while cracking his knuckles, with a Crab-like mannerism.
Harry swallowed, not because he was afraid of anything (through he knew Dudley wasn't joking around when he issued the threat), but because it was always a good ego booster for Dudley.
With a smirk, Dudley opened the pack and slid out two skinny round sticks into his pudgy palm. Carefully placing them in his sock to keep the lighter company, he strode over to the door of his bedroom.
"Give me a few minuets," he called over his shoulder before walking as fastly as his body would allow him to go.
Harry exited Dudley well furnished bedroom and entered his own plain and barren one. He searched his room to make sure that all of the items he had received from Fred and George were out of sight and well hidden, he sat down at his desk. The broken clock said that it was fifteen after five in the evening. Uncle Vernon was probably just getting home. With a sigh, Harry looked over the books that were stacked neatly against his wall. He carefully read over the titles of the new ones and put them in order of what he needed to read first, which he decided on occulemency.
All of the sudden a bellowing voice from the kitchen shouted, "BOY!!!"
Harry jogged down the stairs and made his way towards his uncle, who seemed to be holding back a smirk.
"It seems that my Dudley here, needs someone to spot for him while he doing his weight lifting. Do whatever he tells you to, boy!" Uncle Vernon spat in a manner that was reserved for him and only him but not a second after he said it; Aunt Petunia shot him a nervous warning look. "Right, well if you would be...willing we'll pay you a fifty cent pence each day."
Harry took a moment to pretend to consider before nodding his head in silent agreement. Without a word, Vernon reached a meaty hand into his trouser pocket and produced the promised payment. Of course, the money could barely buy anything; at least the Order's threat had inspired his Uncle to make an intending offer.
"Let's go now, or we won't be in time for my dinner!"
A few moments later, Harry found himself standing outside the shed by the garden behind his cousin. He watched with mild interest as Dudley fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked the large padlock similar to the one on the door leading to Harry's bedroom.
Inside there was last year's living room couch, an old wooden chair, a weight bench complete with a bar loaded with iron, and dumbbells that littered the cement floor. Harry cast a curious eye towards Dudley, who was already settling himself on the couch while lighting up the first of his cigarettes.
"I usually just move the dumbbells around and stuff to make it look like I do what I'm supposed to." The large boy explained stiffly through a puff of odorless smoke.
Quickly, Harry started unloading the iron from the bar. It took five minuets seeing as there was at least three hundred pounds worth set up for Dudley. It turned out to be very challenging for Harry just to work his way to the bar, but eventually he was indeed lying awkwardly on his back staring at the plain bar. He reached up and took hold. It was a difficult task; bring the metal down to his chest and lifting it back up. Harry was only able to do this ten times before his arms felt like gelatin.
"Try lifting the dumbbells like this..." Dudley spoke up, having sensed that Harry didn't actually know what to do next. He made an example by motioning with his arm and cigarette.
Picking up one of the smaller weights, Harry did his best to copy Dudley's example; bringing his arm from parallel to his body, up to his shoulder by bending his elbow all the way.
Harry lifted the iron as many times as he could, waiting for the pain to kick in. fifty repetitions with each arm was all it took for his body to feel completely spent, which worked out fine because by that time Dudley had smoked both of his cigarettes.
The weights were lifted back onto the iron bar, and the padlock was locked behind them as soon as both the boys had left the shed and proceeded to dinner.
Dinner that night was a quiet affair, the only noise being that of his cousin and uncle's fork scraping the plate as they tried to lap up every morsel, while Harry forced himself to eat a bit of mashed potatoes and stew.
Silently, Harry excused himself from the table and placed his dishes in the sink. He left the kitchen without a word to the rest of the household, and retired to his room.
The teenager was too drained physically to worry about showering or changing, therefore he simply settled into a sitting position on his bed, resting his head and back against the headboard with The Theory of Occlumency, and how to apply it.
The subject, surprisingly, was very easy for Harry to comprehend. It helped to actually read the basics and learn the "whys" and "hows" of the effects and consequences of the art. The book was only three hundred pages long, seeing as it was only the basics and the theory. Harry had read it completely and thoroughly by midnight.
Harry knew he should not avoid sleep, but confront it, yet he found himself rereading the first chapter by arguing that he didn't quite understand. Just as soon as he would shake his head to wake up, his eyes would droop shut again. Sighing, the boy placed his book on his night table along with his shirt (although it was very painful to take off) and his glasses.
Wand in hand, Harry slid into bed. Summoning all of his focus, he erected a mental shield around his mind before he allowed sleep to claim him.