A/N: Well, so far there are no reviews, so I'll post the next chapter and then I'll wait until I get atleast one for each chapter. Anyway, please review, I would appreciate it much.

James the Conceited

Harry woke up the next day to what he thought was a fly buzzing around his head. But when he opened his eyes and sat up, Pigwidgeon was gleefully flying around his room.

"Back already?" he tiredly asked, catching him as if he were a snitch and untying the letter from his leg.

As he unrolled the piece of parchment, Harry noticed Dumbledore's owl had gone.

"Harry, Hermione came over last night and we can't wait until you arrive. I tried to convince mum and dad that you should come over earlier because I heard that Snape was living with you, but they said you need to practice Occlumency as much as you can. Anyway, I thought mum told you before you left with your aunt and uncle that they expected you to come over. Dumbledore sent your broom over days ago. I reckon he thought you didn't have any use for it at your aunt and uncle's house and he knew you'd be coming here, so he just sent it straight here. Well, enjoy Occlumency. I expect your cousin is having loads of fun. See you soon."

Harry turned the parchment over and, just like the day before, wrote his reply on the back, "Good, that's one less thing I have to remember when I pack. Yeah, Snape is sleeping in Dudley's bed. I don't know what's going on with him. He was so mean when we left school, and he wasn't any better when he arrived here at first. But then my aunt and uncle wanted me to sleep on the couch so Snape could sleep on my bed, but Snape told them I should sleep in my bed. He's so odd. And then we had a dandy conversation about who had endured more from Voldemort. And then he did the weirdest thing, Ron. When I showed him to Dudley's room, he smiled at me. He iactually/i smiled! I'm going to have nightmares for months…ha ha… Yeah, I'll see you soon. Say hi to Hermione for me. Your friend, Harry."

Once again, Harry tied the letter to Pig's leg and he zoomed out the window and out of sight.

"Potter, get down here!" Vernon yelled.

Dejavu, Harry thought.

Harry quietly, but quickly made his way through the hall, down the stairs and to the kitchen where his uncle's voice had come from.

"Make us some eggs. Hurry up, boy!" his uncle commanded, walking from the kitchen to the sitting room and switching the telly on.

It was a moment, after Harry had gotten the skillet and eggs out, before he noticed Snape standing on the other side of the breakfast bar, studying him.

"What?" he asked, turning the stove on and setting the skillet on the burner.

It was another moment before Snape spoke, "You seem to have come very far in your studies of Occlumency, Potter," he calmly said, "Have you been practicing since you came home from school?"

"You mean since I've come to prison from home?" he sarcastically asked, only earning a scowl. Harry didn't want to admit that he hadn't been practicing, but what was the harm now that he had improved?

"No, I haven't been practicing, why?" he asked.

"You must have been practicing some how, Potter. You can't improve that much in that short amount of time with out some kind of practice. Surely you have…"

Harry interrupted him, pouring oil in the pan, making it sizzle slightly, "I haven't been practicing. I've had too much on my mind."

Snape didn't say anything, only studied him again.

"Mum I want ice-cream for breakfast!" Dudley complained as what sounded like a herd of elephants came down the stairs.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes as he heard his aunt say, "Well, Duddykins, we're going to have yummy eggs for breakfast! We can have ice-cream for desert after dinner. How does that sound?"

"I want ice-cream!" he yelled, banging into the kitchen, making Snape jump and look at him.

"Harry is making us nice eggs now, aren't you Harry?" she asked, looking at Harry.

"Oh, yes…" he began, but was interrupted by an enormous sound.

"I'M NOT GOING TO EAT ANYTHING HE MAKES! HE'S GOING TO POISON IT! MUM HE'S GOING TO USE MAGIC TO KILL ME!" he yelled, spilling crocodile tears down his face.

Harry only rolled his eyes again and cracked three of the eggs, spilling them into the skillet.

"Dudley, dear, Harry isn't allowed to use magic out side of school, remember?" she tried reassuring him.

"HE USED MAGIC LAST NIGHT!" he yelled as Vernon, quite flustered, came into the kitchen to see what was making all the racket.

A realization came to Harry as the eggs started to sizzle. Dumbledore had twisted the underage magic law for Harry so he could use magic to practice Occlumency. This only meant that he could use magic whenever he wanted…

"Potter," said Snape, making him snap back to reality, "I only saw part of your dream. Was it like the others?"

"How do you mean?" he asked, concentrating on the eggs.

"Did you see yourself as the Dark Lord?" he asked, irritation sounding in his voice.

Harry thought a moment, wondering the same thing. Yes, he had seen Voldemort behind the vale, but did that mean that there was a mirror behind the vale or did it simply mean Harry had seen him?

"No, I didn't," he finally answered, "But I did see him."

Snape looked slightly interested.

"Do you know what it means, professor?" Harry asked, looking at him.

Snape only looked back, not saying anything.

Harry looked down at the skillet and flipped the eggs over, wondering why he expected any answers out of Snape.

"What's this non-sense?" Vernon asked as Dudley's wails became louder.

"What non-sense?" Harry absentmindedly asked.

"About dreams and such!" he yelled over Dudley.

"Hush, hush, dear," said Petunia, trying to usher him into the living room.

"When I dream at night I'm actually dreaming what Voldem…you-know-who is dreaming about. Sometimes I actually see what he's seeing and do what he's doing, alright?" Harry explained, becoming impatient.

"Don't you take that tone with me, boy!" he yelled, his face growing purple.

"It seems as if the tables have turned, Potter," Snape calmly said.

"Huh?" Harry stupidly asked, looking from his uncle to Snape.

"It seems as if you are dreaming your own dreams, Potter," Snape said. Harry noticed he was also feeling impatient, "Not the Dark Lord's."

"Oh, right," said Harry, sliding the eggs onto a plate as Dudley came back into the kitchen, wiping his face.

"Here," Harry muttered, handing him the three eggs.

Dudley stared at it in horror.

"What?" Harry yelled.

"This is all I get?" he asked.

"It's all I've made, Duddykins," Harry sarcastically replied, watching Dudley, just like his father, turn purple.

The next thing Harry knew, Dudley had thrown the plate into his face so egg was dripping onto his nightclothes, Uncle Vernon was laughing, and Petunia was softly scolding a cackling Dudley.

Harry, trying not to blow up, pulled what egg he could off of his face, hair and nightclothes and threw it down the garbage disposal.

He looked up at Snape and saw a smirk playing across his face, making Harry even angrier.

"Are we a little messy when we eat, Potter?" he softly asked, hushing the three Dursleys.

Harry glared at him as Snape raised his wand. He quickly looked at his uncle, who clearly thought Snape was going to hex him, who had the happiest expression he'd ever seen him wear.

Snape gave his wand a little flick and all of the egg vanished. He then stood up and walked around to where Harry was standing and magically cooked not only eggs, but bacon and toast.

Harry watched wide-eyed and open-mouthed as Snape worked.

"Fix that plate, potter," Harry's uncle ordered him, wearing a smug expression, "If it's not fixed enough to be used, then you're not allowed to go back to that mad-house you call a school," he finished and left the room, Dudley and Petunia close behind.

Harry looked down at the plate, which had fallen to the ground and shattered. It looked as if it was broken beyond repair, but Harry knew better.

"Fine," he muttered, pulling his wand out of his pajama pocket, "Reparo," he said, then picked up the plate, took it into the sitting room and thrust it under his uncle's nose.

"Here," he said, "I fixed it."

His uncle stared at it a moment, finally grabbing it. He looked at it as if it were some kind of horrible creature that shouldn't be messed with, then broke it in two over his knee.

"There," he said, as if that had done it, "now fix it," he triumphantly handed Harry the plate pieces and sat back in his chair, watching Harry's face.

"Alright," said Harry, pointing his wand at his, watching his uncle's smug expression turn to surprise, "Reparo."

The plate fixed itself, "I think I'll go put it away now," Harry said, not wanting to fix it yet again. He walked into the kitchen and opened a cupboard, placing the plate in its respectable place.

"Quite the relatives you have, Potter," Snape smirked as he put three pieces of bacon on a plate, "In fact, they remind me vividly of your father…" he let his sentence trail off.

Harry tried his best to control his anger even though he knew Snape was right. He had seen, in Snape's pensive the year before, just how horrible and conceited his father really was.

But something must've changed he thought as he looked at the melting butter on the toast, or my mum wouldn't have married him