I

Voldemort turned from his view of the Irish landscape, small frown in place. He'd startled the boy, but that was to be expected. Young adult minds were fragile, and this one in particular, even more so. The boy did show some resilience even in the unconsciousness of his dream self, and that was precisely the sort of thing that drew him. It was a shame he hadn't stuck around in the dream. But over the weeks the Dark Lord grew stronger, and now Harry wouldn't have to be asleep to be contacted through their connection.

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Harry laid in bed until the sound of his uncle's alarm clock rang throughout the second floor of Four Privet Drive. He groaned remembering his relatives had gone on a vacation. Vernon had forgotten to shut it off which meant Harry would have to do it.

Downstairs in the kitchen he found a letter on the counter and large barn owl nipping at a bowl of waxed fruit. His aunt and uncle had locked up any foods they didn't want Harry to get a hold of...leaving namely dairy products, bread, and anything that could spoil before they returned. He pulled a roll from the pantry and fed the owl before investigating the letter. It was from the headmaster.

Harry,

I hope you are enjoying your summer, but it has come to my attention that your relatives have left for a vacation leaving you unattended. Of course I am aware that you are nearly seventeen years of age and your behavior does not warrant constant supervision. But Voldemort has been suspiciously scarce as of late and we worry that he would choose this period to make an advance. Therefore, I've convinced the Ministry of Magic to lift your restriction on under aged wizardry for defense purposes until you return to Hogwarts. I need not mention caution, as you've already experienced the danger we are dealing with. Do stay out of mischief, and we'll see you at the end of summer.

Professor Albus Dumbledore

Lifted the...restriction? And how did he know his relatives had gone away? Harry hadn't been able to send a letter, what with his aunt forbidding any magical behavior. Well, the details weren't important. What mattered was that Harry would be left alone possibly tile the end of summer, with permission to use magic....in self-defense, of course. But what qualified as self-defense?

The bird finished with the roll and waited for Harry to send a reply with him. After a moment of deliberation Harry snatched a sheet of note paper from Petunia's grocery list pad and wrote a short reply thanking the headmaster. Purposefully leaving out and mention of his dreams of the Dark Lord, which is what he was choosing to call it after all. He needed more time to consider what that could have meant, if anything. The owl eyed the too-white paper and fruit borders suspiciously as Harry secured it to its leg.

"Professor Dumbledore," he told it before sending it off. He was reminded of Hedwig locked up in his room and took a roll for her. She usually preferred to hunt, but that would have to wait until evening when neighbors had less chance of noticing a large snowy owl taking flight from his bedroom.

After feeding his familiar, Harry went to the shower, taking his time and reveling in the silence of a house without Dursleys. He examined this pale and too-thin reflection. Hogwarts' full menu had added some necessary weight but after spending so many of his developing years on Dudley's table scraps, he figured he'd always be small-framed. He was in need of a trim. The back ends covered the nape of his neck and the front kept flopping over his brows, even if the weight had tamed it to some degree. He frowned, wondering if Mrs. Weasely wouldn't mind taking care of it before they went to Diagon Alley for school supplies.

He quickly dressed in a sagging pair of Dudley's old jeans and a faded T-shirt before running outside to grab the paper. The front page held surprisingly little bad news, and therefore didn't spell any obvious threats from the wizarding world. He stood in the center of the living rooom trying to figure out what to do with himself. The TV was off-limits, for Uncle Vernon had disconnected the cord and hidden it somewhere...along with the stereo cord and any other aid to entertainment.

Well, his magic stuff was locked in the cupboard under the stairs. He supposed he could bust it open and pick through it for something to read. Not to mention just having his wand with him would be a good idea.

Harry knelt in front of the cupboard considering the padlock on the door.

A simple unlocking charm could have taken care of this, he thought wryly. There had to be a way to get it off the muggle way without destroying anything. He tried picking the darn thing with various tools - a narrow screwdriver, a fork, some pointed piece of metal he'd found in the bathroom. After having tried anything that would fit he returned to the cupboard angrily yanking at the lock.

"Merlin, just UNLOCK!"

The lock clattered to the floor with a dull thud.

Several seconds had passed before Harry realized what he'd just accomplished: wandless magic. And come to think of it, it hadn't been the first time if one counted the time he'd trapped his cousin in the python exhibit at the zoo. Silent with wonderment, he opened the door to reveal his school trunk. When Ministry officials failed to appear with a 'pop' right there in the hall Harry set out to open the trunk. With much more effort than it had taken him a moment ago, he was unable to unlock that as well.

Had he known he could still do that, and at will, he would have explored this side of magic more thoroughly. And come to think of it, why didn't more wizards use wandless magic? It wasn't exactly easy, but it was possible.

Harry pulled out the polished wood that was his wand, closing his eyes at the subtle vibration it sent through him. Barely disguised was the pull towards a direction-less force that sent a shudder deeply through him. How far did this connection to Voldemort go, Harry wondered. There always was the possibility that the blood they now shared could have made the link stronger. But feeling strangely compelled to make contact with the murderer of his parents left a shifty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Feeling unsettled, and suddenly without appetite, Harry slipped his wand into the waist of his pants allowing it to rest against his thigh before leaving the house for the neighborhood park.