I don't own Harry Potter, you should know that by now.

Merry Christmas.

Harry Potter - The Spider-Man Burglar.

Miss Ross had gone. It had worked a treat!

For a time, Harry had been worried the plan of getting rid of the arrogant woman wouldn't have worked, that the whole thing would have failed because it was too complicated, but it hadn't.

His fears had been for nothing.

Yes, hypnotising that girl and then using the same trick on his thick-headed simpleton of a cousin and his equally stupid friends had worked out, but what he had done between those two incidents and what he'd done to Miss Ross were both different; with Miss Ross, he had hypnotised her into giving him information which he would hopefully bring down Aunt Petunia's precious friends but also to send her away where he would never have to deal with her again.

Harry pushed all thoughts of the woman aside, and he worked on his future while he filed away the information the teacher had given him for the future, wherein the long run he would figure out a decent way of using it against the bitches his Aunt was a part of. Indeed it was something he was looking forward to, for the chance of blackmailing his own aunt.

After Miss Ross left, Harry decided to continue practicing and developing his hypnotic skills and he had also begun practicing his wall-crawling abilities while at the same time while the school needed time to find a replacement for Miss Ross. In fact, while he had begun practicing the wall-crawling ability still, Harry had begun focusing more and more on his wall-crawling skills, beginning more controlled experiments with the skill, and pushing himself further and further on. In the meantime, the teacher who'd taken her place was a little more impartial than her predecessor, although like the rest of the teachers the replacement was wary of him, she didn't push Harry in the same manner as Miss Ross. He decided to leave her alone

After he had spent a week getting on with his skills, Harry gained more experience with wall-crawling now he had gotten the basics of how he should stick to the walls. He had learnt how to activate his wall-crawling powers instinctively, so he didn't need to worry himself sick by leaning against a wall, and pulling himself away only to find a part of him sticking to the wall still.

At the same time, he continued to experiment with his power and conducting small experiments and learning from the experiences and from the results he got in turn.

Unfortunately, as he continued to experiment with his wall-crawling skills, he inevitably began practicing sticking on the glass. For some reason, he found that glass was even harder to adhere to, and he guessed the smoothness of the material alone was the cause. But anyway, one day as he pushed himself to scale one of the Dursleys French windows. The experiment took place late at night where the Dursleys were asleep and were unlikely to disturb him as he carried out the experiment. Harry had begun scaling the glass door, pushing more and more of his power into adhering to the glass while he scaled it, the sound of a bird he couldn't see spooked him, and he lost concentration for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.

Harry fell to the ground, but fortunately, he went away with a few scrapes to his hand that while they stung they didn't really cause him that much pain. Unwilling to let the whole night go to waste, Harry had continued practicing the wall scaling skill, only this time he stuck to brick for the time being while he had used as much power as he could to keep adhered to the wall. As he climbed the brick wall, Harry thought about what had just happened.

He could stick to the glass, but he needed to focus on concentrating on holding on the whole time. For brick and plaster and wood, that wasn't a problem although it was still a factor.

But while the obvious answer would be to simply avoid crawling across the glass, Harry knew it wouldn't be so simple. He knew he would eventually have to scale a glass wall, and glass was a fairly common building material. He'd seen really high walls made from the stuff, and he didn't like the thought of just giving up anyway. His life could depend on it.

Harry bit his lip, and then he crawled slowly down the wall until he reached the patio again. After letting go of the wall, Harry walked back to the french windows and he took a deep breath and he pressed his hands and fingers against the glass, pressing down really hard. After he felt he had pushed enough of his power into the tips of his fingers and the palms of his hands into the glass, Harry closed his eyes and did his best to picture the wall so he could concentrate hard enough to keep clinging to the wall.

He lifted his feet and he moved up his hands.

His feet followed.

Harry was climbing the glass of the French doors. But he went all the way up, maintaining his concentration the whole time. When he reached the guttering, he stopped; he didn't know if one of the Dursleys would hear him on the rooftop if he went that far up since he had no way of knowing if one of them was a light-ish sleeper since he had never disturbed them late at night. Well, not as far as he could recall.

Harry twisted himself so he was horizontal rather than vertical, and he crawled along the wall slowly though he ducked down behind Dudley's window. He could hear the muffled sounds of his piggy cousin's snores through the brick wall and the windows, but again he didn't know for certain if Dudley was a light sleeper or not, but he wasn't going to try to find out since the Dursleys might lash out at him even if they could never prove he had been scaling the walls outside their son's bedroom.

Harry crawled around the house although he didn't go all the way around so he would find himself in the street. Harry crawled back and silently went through the house, locking the backdoor behind him while he went as silently as he could back into the cupboard under the stairs. After closing the door behind him, the passageway was dark but suddenly through the doorframe, a soft bright light shone through the narrow gaps.

Inside the cupboard, Harry was lost in thought for a minute while he held the glowing ball of light in his hand. While he'd succeeded in pushing himself tonight, he knew it wasn't over yet. The only problem was there were very few glass-fronted or backed buildings in Little Whinging.

Harry shivered a little bit. Winter was coming up rapidly. In a few months time, it would be Christmas. Harry grimaced at the thought of the festive season since it wasn't festive for him. While the Dursleys porked their way through one meal after another, spending huge amounts of cash on Dudley, Harry received zilch.

All he got from Christmas were Vernon and Petunia gloating to him that "Santa Claus doesn't come to freaks!" and half-eaten scraps. Most times Harry genuinely felt Christmas was a waste of time since nothing productive came out of it, and besides since it was supposed to be a time for giving and a time for family, Harry never got any of it since he had no family, and no-one spared him a thought. It only made him despise his parents even more since they had died, leaving him to rot in this fucked up place.

But not this year.

This year, Harry planned on going on a burglary spree. He didn't care if he would be ruining the festive cheer for the people in Little Whinging. In his mind they'd had it for years, they could do without for one.

"…just getting some water, Pet," the sleepy voice of his uncle above which sounded like gravel being mixed in a cement mixer interrupted his thoughts.

Harry gasped and he instantly put out the light in his hand while he mentally went through his mind all the things he had done when he had unlocked the door. As always he'd had some water, but no food since the Dursleys were always keeping an eye on what was in the fridge and what wasn't in there. He had cleaned and washed the glass, and he had moved it back into the cupboard.

Oooh, I don't think I put the chair back. Or did I? Harry thought to himself with a mental wince while he heard his uncle lumbering down the stairs, grunting all the way. Harry kept still, hoping that his uncle was too sleepy to notice a thing. Oh, what am I thinking? If he's getting water then he will notice, and then he'd lose it…

Harry listened as his uncle walked into the kitchen, switching on the light.

But there was no sound of anger, no bellow of rage. All that came from the kitchen was the sound of a cupboard door opening with the hinge squeaking slightly and the sound of a tap running and then the sounds of someone drinking. Harry kept very still while he heard his uncle go back upstairs again before he heard the sound of the master bedroom door shutting.

He closed his eyes and he rested his head on his dirty pillow. As he waited for sleep to overtake him, Harry hoped that he formed a plan soon of committing a real burglary in Little Whinging.

XXX

As the days passed normally at Privet Drive, Harry continued practicing with his wall-climbing ability and he took advantage of the skill when Dudley and his gang chased him again during one of their Harry Hunting games. Harry had run down a cul-de-sac lined with brick and concrete walls, but he had quickly scaled the wall and had managed to clamber over the rooftop itself without anyone seeing him before Dudley and the others came down the cul-de-sac.

While the gang had scratched their heads, Harry was racing across the rooftop and he had quickly found a wall leading down to an alleyway. He had climbed down slowly in case anyone was seeing him, and he had made his escape. But while he was good at climbing brick and concrete walls now, Harry hadn't yet found any glass walls he could properly climb for long periods to give him the chance to scale them and give him the experience he needed to get to grips with holding onto glass.

Harry had decided not to let it worry him. Little Whinging was littered with hundreds of houses and buildings made of bricks and concrete, so he didn't see the point of worrying about it now. In any case, he was getting closer and closer to the nights where he would be a burglar and give the people of Little Whinging a Christmas they would never forget anytime soon.

On the night before Christmas Day, Harry sneaked out of the decorated Privet Drive, not paying any attention whatsoever to the tackily decorated house his relatives favoured, but since he'd been the one to do three-quarters of the work decorating the sad, plastic white tree the Dursleys loved so much, he paid it little attention.

Harry walked out of Number 4's backdoor and he proceeded to walk two streets away from the Dursley house. He walked for a good half an hour before he arrived at a street with a particular house. Harry had decided to burgle the house of one of Dudley's friends first. He had decided to choose Malcolm first. He would burgle Pier's house soon, teach the rat-faced bastard a lesson. He scaled the wall first and he crawled around the back and peeped in through the windows, or tried to since he couldn't see past the curtains.

Once he reached the backdoor, Harry flicked his hands over the house, closing his eyes and picturing and willing everyone as well as everything living inside the house to be fast asleep before he unlocked the door. As he stepped inside carefully, Harry went quietly upstairs and he walked into the bedrooms where he could see Malcolm and his little brother already had their stockings put up. Harry was tempted to steal the presents inside, keep them as trophies, but he decided against it. He would let the family think their Christmas was going to be marvellous although they would soon learn differently when they saw what he did downstairs.

Harry flicked his hand and summoned all of the money in the room. Silver, gold and copper coloured coins, which shone as they hovered through the air towards the bag. Rustling a little, like leaves in the wind, were the pound notes as they came out of a drawer in Malcolm's wardrobe. Harry shook his head.

He had known for a long time Malcolm, like the rest of Dudley's gang, had been stealing cash from other kids at school, and he had little doubt the others had a nice stash themselves.

In the master bedroom, Harry frowned as he caught sight of Malcolms' parents. He wondered if the pair of them were as deluded as the Dursleys were about their own son, believing Malcolm to be an angel and not a bully. Harry just shrugged and he got back to work. He waved his hand over the vanity table and all the woman's jewellery came floating out and went into the bag.

Once he was finished with stealing the money and jewellery from the bedrooms, Harry went downstairs towards the tree. He looked at it for a moment, weighing up the pros and cons of what he was about to do before all the memories of how he had been mocked as a child around this time of year. Decision made, Harry raised his hands, and ripped the tree to pieces, sending ornaments and pieces of tinsel flying everywhere. The tree staggered at the force of the attack, but Harry flicked his hands in a tearing motion, and piece of branch and pine needle went flying everywhere.

Looking in satisfaction at the devastation, Harry nodded and he walked out of the house.

XXX

The next house Harry broke into was the one next door. He shook his head as he studied the house quietly outside, sneering at the extravagant decorations. This was the problem with the people who lived in Little Whinging; everyone in suburbia loved to try to outdo the others, not caring at all how it looked. Anyway, he shrugged his shoulders and he waved his hand over the house, sending everyone to sleep.

After scaling the walls and crawling around the house in a manner similar to the way he'd gotten into Malcolm's house, Harry unlocked the backdoor of the house and he walked inside slowly. He paused in horror when he had barely taken a step inside through the kitchen when he heard the low sound of growling. Harry slowly turned around, and he gasped in horror when he saw the shape of a massive dog.

It was very dark in the kitchen, but there was just enough ambient light for Harry to make out the animals' details and he knew this thing was massive, and he was also guessing the things jaws were huge as well. Harry hated dogs thanks to Marge's Ripper, and the other filthy mangy beasts she often brought with her on her self-invited visits to Number 4. He still remembered the way they kept chasing him around the neighbourhood, and while it never failed to bring tears to Dudley's eyes, all it had done was make him hate the animals.

In this case, things were worse.

This dog was enormous and he knew if it got its jaws on him, it would be virtually impossible for him to hide the injuries. The Dursleys wouldn't care but even they would get suspicious, and they weren't completely stupid. The moment they heard about the burglaries, then they would only need to see the blood to put two and two together.

Harry stared at the dog, keeping very very still while at the same time he looked around the kitchen for a decent enough weapon, and he found one. He raised a finger at the knife block. With a slow shiing sound, several of the knives came out of the slits and flew at the dog, who yelped in shock, but it was too late since the knives were flying at it very quickly, and one embedded itself in the dog's thigh.

The dog howled with agony; Harry regretted the violence, and he wished he had only summoned one knife to slash the dog's throat. But it was too late now, although he hoped the dog's death throes wouldn't be what woke up the rest of the street. Harry summoned another knife, and with his hand to levitate it, he slashed the dog's throat.

Harry closed his eyes. Mental note, he thought to himself annoyed, always make sure everything in a house is asleep before you burgle it.

He kept very still as he listened out for any sign of the neighbours coming to investigate, but he heard nothing. Barely relieved by that, he bit his lip for a moment to work out what he was going to do next.

Harry decided to continue with the burglary, only he was going to do it more quickly since there was a chance the neighbours were getting out of their beds and coming to this house to investigate the noise. Harry stayed where he was in the kitchen as he closed his eyes and mentally sought out coins and notes as well as pieces of jewellery scattered throughout the house. He only needed to wait for a second or two before the coins and notes scattered on the ground floor of the house appeared first, coming from parts littered in the different rooms or in the pockets and wallets or purses of the people who lived here. They came towards him like a cloud.

Harry held open the bag as the treasure flew into the bag and mentally directed them to fly into the bag before the treasure trove from upstairs flew into the bag; Harry caught sight of a number of rings and bracelets, as well as a few necklaces, flew into the bag as well.

When he heard the sound of someone knocking on the door, Harry quickly took his leave and left the house. Once he was outside, he waved his hands over the property, letting the family or whoever lived in the house, wake up normally. He scaled the walls of the house he had just burgled, and he jumped onto the neighbours and then went further down the street to burgle the houses there.

XXX

"Pet!"

Harry groaned as he quickly woke up at the sound of his uncle's voice.

"Vernon, what's wrong? Oh, Happy Christmas, dear," Petunia said.

"Never mind that. Pet, there were over….fifteen burglaries late last night!"

"What?"

"I know," Vernon said, sounding like he was nodding his head as if he couldn't believe what he was saying himself.

Harry smiled. "Merry Christmas," he whispered to himself, thinking about the bag he'd placed under his cot. He knew it was perfectly safe since the Dursleys never searched his cupboard. He wasn't worried. He had already planned to hypnotise the Dursleys so if they suspected him, he would put them right.