Author's Note: Here we go again! Thanks for all your encouragement and reviews! I loved getting them.

"Mail call!" Harry's homeroom teacher called out. Harry ignored him as he had since Hermione had returned to Hogwarts and they had started writing via the Mini-Messengers. "Evan James!" A letter? Harry stood up, received his letter from his teacher, and sat back down at his desk to read it. They still had ten minutes left in homeroom before classes actually started. He loved being in regular classes. He only met with Sky two nights a week now, just to make sure that he was on track and not falling behind his classmates through some deficiency of his "gifted" education. Sky did not hold a very high opinion of Evan James's previous school.

Harry blinked at the letter he held in his hands. It was from Dudley. He remembered that Dudley had asked if the two could write to each other, but Harry had forgotten amid all of the other stuff he had had going on at the time. Dudley had not written much and what was there was enough to make Harry confused. What did Dudley want from him?

Dear Harry,

I guess that you didn't want to write to me. Mum said I should be patient because we've done a lot to you and it will take time, even if you do decide to try to like us like we are trying to like you. Mum said it was up to you. I just have a question and I would like an answer, even if it is one word. You can pass it through Mum if you don't want to write to me. Do you hate me?

Dudley

Harry stopped and scratched his head. He had never heard such an odd question, and the wizarding world had quite a few of them whenever they managed to corner him in one place long enough to ask. Did he hate Dudley? He should, considering what Dudley had managed to do to him over the years. "Harry Hunting" rose to his mind, but he couldn't find the usual feelings that he had had about it when he was a child. He didn't feel much of anything, really. They had been kids. It was stupid, really. Dudley had been a right prat about a lot of stuff, but that didn't mean that Harry hated him. Or did it?

Harry tried to figure out if he hated anyone. Lucius Malfoy rose to his mind, but the feelings quickly died away. The same happened with Bellatrix Lestrange, though it took a bit longer. Pettigrew might work for hate. Dumbledore? No. Dementors. Harry gave a light shiver. Okay, he hated dementors, but he couldn't find any feelings the same way towards Dudley. It didn't make sense. Harry gathered his books and told the teacher he needed to see Paul. His professor nodded and shooed Harry out of the room. Harry showed up at Paul's office to find Paul missing. Zen, however, was not and seemed more than thrilled to see Harry.

"My lightning child has returned!" Zen hissed happily. "Take me out?" Harry smiled and dropped his backpack onto the floor. He went over to the cage and lowered an arm so that Zen could crawl up. The snake hissed his satisfaction and curled around Harry's arm. "What troubles you, my lightning child?" Zen asked as he blinked red eyes up at Harry.

"It's nothing, really. I'm just confused." Harry answered him as he lay down on the couch and settled Zen on his stomach. He ran a finger down Zen's body. Zen closed his eyes in pleasure and asked Harry to explain his confusion. "I received a letter from my cousin Dudley. He asked if I hate him. I don't know if I do." Harry explained the best he could. He wasn't sure if Zen understood.

"For whom do you have feelings of hate?" Zen asked. Harry frowned and shrugged.

"No one, really. I hate dementors because they affect me more than they should. I hate when people stare at me because of my scar and treat me differently from everyone else." Harry shuddered when he thought of Fudge's fluctuating attitudes towards him from year three onward. He wondered if Fudge knew he was missing. He made a mental note to write Hermione tonight.

"You know what hatred feels like. Do you hate this Dudley person?" Zen asked as he curled up and opened his eyes.

"I guess I don't. It's not hate I'm feeling. I just can't identify what I am feeling!" Harry rubbed his eyes, swore as he tried to fix his contact lens, and sighed with frustration. "I'm just so, just so…"

"Angry?" Zen suggested in a nonchalant way as he curled about himself.

"Yes! I'm so angry at him for what he used to do! How he used to treat me when we were younger." Harry sat up, making Zen hiss in displeasure as he was forced to change position. Harry punched the couch and growled. "That's exactly what I'm feeling! I'm so mad at him!"

"Upset, Harry?" Paul asked from the doorway. Harry looked up, slightly embarrassed that Paul had seen him in a temper.

"No." He answered. Zen hissed at him, starting to lecture that Harry should release some of these feelings to another human and not keep them to himself. Harry returned Zen to his cage by way of answer.

"Just you wait until I get out of here! You're in for a world of hurt!" Zen promised Harry from his cage.

"Get a number! You'll only be number twenty-three. Think you can wait that long?" Harry hissed back at him.

"Are you and Zen fighting?" Paul asked, completely perplexed. It seemed so odd to hear hissing that sounded angry, though how Paul could even tell it was angry was beyond the man's reasoning capability of the moment.

"No!" Harry snapped. He saw Paul's face and regretted his actions. Back, anger, back!

"I'm not sure what has you so upset, or what you and Zen were saying, but I did not appreciate being snapped at." Paul told Harry as he took his chair. Harry sank down on the couch and hid his face behind his hands.

"I'm sorry, Paul." He said as he tried to work out the mess his mind was in about Dudley. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just confused." Paul raised an eyebrow and waited for Harry to continue. "My cousin sent me a letter." Harry told Paul. Paul nodded and dug into his mini fridge and offered Harry a bottle of juice. Harry took it and set it next to him. "He asked if I hated him."

"Do you?" Paul asked. This was something about his family! Something Harry had hesitated speaking about and he could now be ready to talk about it was now finally mentioned.

"No." Harry answered in a small voice. "That's what Zen and I were talking about. He helped me figure it out. I don't hate him. I'm just really, really mad at him." Harry explained. "Furious." Harry's hands clenched into fists and he sighed.

"Why?" The simple question struck Harry like a whip between the eyes. Harry stood and went over to the window. He stared out at the changing leaves and frowned. A thousand things flashed through his mind as to why he was so upset with his cousin. He was unsure if he could tell Paul all he wanted to say. It would be too hard to say it all. It hurt just thinking about it. He wished he could just show Paul what he went through. Harry took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Each breath seemed only to fuel his anger. He didn't' see Zen curl up on his heated rock or whisper that he was cold.

"Buddy?" Paul put out a hand and turned Harry around. Harry looked up into Paul's eyes. Paul saw the pain there from whatever his cousin had done. "What do you need to tell me?" Something happened in that instant, as though permission of some kind had been given to Harry. It was like a slide show was being played right in front of his eyes. He saw images of a rather large blond boy tormenting a child at least three times smaller than him. He figured that the larger boy was Dudley, while the little one was…Harry! What was he seeing? More importantly, how? Several more images flashed in front of his eyes before he felt a small pushing sensation just behind his eyes. He blinked and the images were gone. Strange.

A shuddering breath brought him back to himself. He looked down to find Harry on his knees and hugging himself around the shoulders. He was taking deep, heaving breaths. Paul gasped when he felt the cold air surrounding him and he realized that he could see Harry's breath in the air. He dropped to a knee and gathered Harry in his arms. "It's okay, Harry. It's okay." He whispered to the shaking boy. Harry only shook his head and shut his eyes against the sunlight pouring in through the window. "It's okay."

"Why did he have to hurt me?" Harry whispered as he fought for control of his own body. What was happening? "I tried to be nice to him! He called me names and made sure I couldn't make any friends at school! He made me do his homework. He hurt me." Paul stayed quiet. What could he say? The other boy was a bully, through and through. He didn't blame Harry for feeling the way he did. "I just wanted to be his cousin and he stepped all over me. Family." Harry's fists clenched again as he worked up into a temper again. "He hurt me. Why? What did I ever do to him?" Paul knew that Harry had just asked a rhetorical question and did not require an answer.

Paul held Harry until his breathing softened to light tears that just fell from his eyes. The cold started to disappear as Harry fought to control himself. "Let it out, kiddo. You're allowed to be upset and you're allowed to be angry. It's okay to feel this way." Harry nodded against Paul's shoulder and took a deep breath. He rested against Paul for a few seconds before pulling away.

"I think I'm okay, now." He told Paul as he sat up. "Thanks."

"Still angry?" Paul asked. He opened Harry's juice and handed it to him, motioning that Harry should drink some of it. Harry took a long drink from the bottle and nodded.

"Still angry." Harry agreed as he wiped his face. "It's more manageable now." Harry explained. "Smaller, somehow." Paul smiled and nodded. "I think I know what to tell him."

"Good. Make sure you tell him that you're angry with him. You two will not be able to have a good relationship, or a relationship of any kind, without you telling him your feelings and vice versa." Paul motioned for Harry to drink more.

"I'm supposed to tell him that?" Harry snorted. "Dudley won't take that well." Harry took another sip of his juice.

"Yes, well, if he wants you as a friend, he'll learn to live with it." Paul stood up and helped Harry to his feet. "It looks like Zen is very upset with you." Harry looked at the cage with a regretful smile. "I think that the offer of a mouse will cheer him up."

"Really?" Harry asked. Paul only took out a small box and handed it to Harry by way of response. Harry opened the cage and smiled down at Zen.

"I'm waiting for my number to come up." If snakes could sniff in disdain at someone, Zen managed to do so at Harry. The boy smiled down at his reptilian friend.

"I wanted to apologize." Harry told the snake. "I'm sorry I yelled at you." Zen pretended to ignore Harry. "I have a mouse for you." Zen's red eye looked up at Harry. It seemed like all could be fixed with an offer of a mouse.

"A mouse?" He asked in an excited voice. "Really?" Harry opened the box and released the mouse into the cage.

"Please don't eat it in front of me." Harry said as he replaced the cage's lid. Paul slid a cloth over the cage and whispered 'just in case'.

"Here mousey, mousey, mousey!"

Harry was struggling to stay awake through his Charms assignment. Yes, he knew that animation spells were an important set of spells in many different ways, but he couldn't quite drum up the enthusiasm he needed to complete the essay. Animation charms seemed so empty after facing Voldemort. Heck, everything seemed pointless after facing Voldemort. His eyes drifted shut of their own accord and his head slowly came to rest on his desk.

(Dream)

"Where have you been?" Voldemort demanded. Harry opened his eyes and fought to keep from cringing at the anger in Voldemort's voice. He hoped that he would make it out of this dream alive. He pushed himself up from the ground and stood.

"I didn't have a choice." Harry said as he faced Voldemort. "They've been drugging me. I just happened to fall asleep before the evening meds came around." Voldemort seemed to be considering what Harry had said.

"The Muggle teachers are drugging you?" Voldemort asked, looking at Harry in a speculating way. He waved his wand and the fireplace in the room lit up.

"My nightmares 'disturb the other students'." He spat out and folded his arms. Harry worked up some temper to go into his voice. He was an actor and he needed to convince Voldemort that he was angry about his treatment at the hands of his Muggle teachers. "Now they shove pills down my throat every night to make sure I don't dream." Harry rubbed his face and sighed. "I tried to tell them that I would be fine and that I didn't want them, but they don't listen to me. I don't have much of a choice."

"Need I remind you of our agreement?" Voldemort hissed at Harry. Harry didn't need to be reminded. He knew what Voldemort was capable of and how far he was willing to go. They had an unspoken truce. Harry would submit to Voldemort's lessons, and Voldemort would leave Harry's friends alone…for now. Harry could live with the arrangement, though he didn't like it at all. Making a deal with Voldemort was like making a deal with the forces of nature. You never knew what would happen. He had gotten himself into this and he thought that he might learn something useful to defeat Voldemort. He hadn't counted on Voldemort blackmailing him into complete lessons.

"No, sir." Harry answered. "I'll figure out a way to avoid the medicine." He promised. In truth, he had not taken a sleeping pill for a few weeks now, ever since Sensei had induced the mother of all Occlumency lessons without knowing it. If Voldemort was willing to believe that Harry had not been absent by choice, then Harry was willing to let him believe that. Voldemort eyed him, but accepted the statement at face value.

"Very well, let's begin. Wand out." Harry pulled out his wand and held it up. "I believe you are ready to start wordless spells. No words are needed in this kind of magic. You just think of it. Do not say any spell." Harry nodded and noticed that a table and chairs appeared beside him. Voldemort produced a feather and set it on the table. "Let's start small. Levitate the feather. No spells." Voldemort took his own seat and Harry sat down across from him. He could do this, right?

Harry had learned a few things about Voldemort during these little lessons. He had the same amount of patience Snape possessed with his students and enjoyed berating Harry almost as much as Snape did. He also truly enjoyed teaching, as he became more and more excited as Harry continued to achieve the goals to which he set Harry every time they met. He held back nothing in the way of punishment if Harry failed, but his praise for succeeding almost made up for his cruelty. Almost. Harry continued to heal himself through his wandless magic, but he was becoming unable to heal all of his injuries right away. Either that, or Voldemort was taking out his own frustrations from the Diagon Alley fiasco on Harry.

It was through these lessons that he was beginning to understand why some would find Voldemort an enticing leader to follow. His praise was rare, but when it did happen, it gave one such a feeling of pride in succeeding for such a demanding taskmaster. It was intoxicating, an almost heady experience in knowing that one had been pushed to the limits time and again and continued to exceed those limits.

Harry raised his wand and pointed it at the feather, trying to get it to levitate. Wingardium Leviosa. He thought inside his head. Nothing happened. A quick peep at Voldemort revealed that the man was extremely impatient tonight. Wingardium Leviosa. Nope. This was not good. He closed his eyes and focused for a few seconds, picturing the feather rising from the table. He pointed his wand again and opened his eyes in time to see the feather lift from the table. "That's it!" Voldemort slapped the table. "You've done it."

Harry stared at the feather in wonder. Had he really done what Voldemort wanted him to do? He noticed that Voldemort seemed to be waiting for something. Harry allowed the feather to falter, though he felt that he could hold it up all night. He didn't want to succeed too far too fast. A major part of this game was convincing Voldemort that Harry had no extraordinary ability at all, that he was just an average kid thrown into odd circumstances through the meddling of others and some luck. The first lesson had been a sort of fluke, and Voldemort had told Harry, when questioned about the bright light, that magic sometimes fluctuated and it was nothing to worry about since it had not happened again. Harry had not duplicated the target color white since then, but when he was in his own mental room away from Voldemort, he had accomplished it every time with little effort. Harry still didn't know what the color meant, but he could still produce the same color, only it was increasing in brightness and intensity. His targets were not standing up to the treatment very well at all. He wondered what it meant.

His feather wavered in the air, probably a result of his thoughts, before drifting down to the lacquered tabletop. "How are you feeling?" Harry's head snapped up at the question. Voldemort never inquired as to his state of health without an ulterior motive. The man was a Slytherin, after all, and he used every bit of information to plan. Harry decided to answer truthfully.

"I'm a little tired." He said. It was true. These lessons always exhausted him and he had been tired to begin with.

"That's to be expected. You just accomplished some very advanced magic." Voldemort explained patiently. Harry felt like he was talking to a psycho Remus Lupin as he talked about the Patronus. "The fatigue disappears with practice. The better you become, the less likely you are to become tired." Harry nodded and yawned a bit. "Did you hear about Diagon Alley?" Voldemort asked conversationally.

"No." Harry answered. He knew what Voldemort was talking about. He just didn't want to admit it. "Did something happen?" It was best to sound concerned. The magical world was Harry's home too.

"Something happened to all of my followers, well, save Pettigrew and one other. He reported that something happened and froze all of my Death Eaters and that was all he could tell me." Voldemort stared at the fireplace in the room. "The person responsible will find out why I am so feared when I find him." Voldemort swore. Harry thought of a question to sidetrack Voldemort's thoughts. He did not want to deal with a Dark Lord bent on vengeance.

"Why do wizards use a wand? If we can do wordless spells, why do we need the wand?" Voldemort gave Harry a suspicious glance before deciding that the question had merit.

"Wands help to focus our power. Wandless casters are very rare. I believe Dumbledore is able to do one or two spells without his wand. Children do accidental magic in our world without a wand. The difference between the two is the latter is not controlled at all, while the former is heavily controlled. No one is able to function completely without a wand. If we just did wordless spells, without the wand, the spells would react much like a child's accidental magic. The magic would do what it wanted without the focus." Harry nodded to show he understood and made a mental pact with himself that Voldemort would not find out about either Bleys' book or Harry's wandless talent. Harry had learned one main thing from Voldemort that he applied at every session: Do not give up any advantages you have over your adversary. "You look exhausted." Voldemort waved his wand and incanted a sleep spell. "I'll see you soon." Harry faded away back to his room.

(end dream)

He jerked awake, amazed that he had escaped without a single curse. He counted his lucky stars that he been looking out for him today and turned back to his essay. He wanted to finish it before his session with his aunt today.

Harry reached up to knock on Paul's door when he heard Joe's voice coming from the corridor. What were they already doing here? Aunt Petunia and Joe weren't due to show up until later. Harry checked his watch and sighed. Oh, they were due now. "Petunia, I keep telling you. He is not going to start responding for quite a while. You hurt him as child. You pushed him away repeatedly when he needed an adult. He will just not accept you without the same number, if not more, repetitions that you do want him. You're going to have to be patient." Harry knocked on the door hurriedly and entered when Paul answered.

"I've been here for a few minutes." Harry told him as he tossed his backpack in the corner and went over to Zen's cage. Paul only raised an eyebrow as Harry took Zen out of the snake's cage and started to chat.

"Hello, Harry! What is troubling you?" Zen asked as Harry settled on the couch. "You have a glum look about you, and I can smell it." Zen gave a rather intense stare for a snake.

"Zen, what would you do if someone told you that you were not wanted your entire life, and then changed their minds and said that they did want you?" Harry asked. The door opened and Joe stepped in, only to step out immediately. Harry smirked.

"I would wonder why they changed their minds. Do you know why?" Zen asked as he curled around Harry's hand and sighed as Harry started petting him. Paul looked at the closed door and then back at Harry as though he was asking why Harry had not returned Zen to his cage.

"Yes, I do." Harry told the snake.

"Your aunt?" Harry nodded. "You must forget the past. She wants to care for you now. Allow her." Harry sighed and stroked Zen again.

"Hey, buddy?" Harry looked up at Paul. "Joe really wants to come in, but Zen scares him. Mind putting him away?" Harry nodded, got up from the couch, and went over to Zen's cage.

"Sorry." Harry said as he put Zen back down in his cage. "I just needed to talk with him for a second."

"I understand. Anything you need to talk about before Joe and your aunt come in?" Paul asked as Harry took a seat on the couch and pulled his legs up. Insecure and confused stance. This was not good.

"Yes. No." Harry answered. "I don't know. There's something. Nothing." He shrugged. "Maybe later." Harry said. Paul nodded and called Joe in.

"Hello, Harry." Joe greeted. Harry gave him a smile.

"Hello, Harry." Petunia said. Harry regarded her for a few seconds before nodding towards her.

"Okay, let's get started. Do we need to review the rules?" Paul asked as Harry rearranged himself into a more contract ball. Paul reached out and pulled Harry's feet down to the ground. Harry glared at him. He had been comfortable in that position, thank you very much!

"No, I remember them." Petunia answered. Harry nodded to show that he remembered the rules. He started to draw his feet up, but Paul stopped him with a quick hand on his shin. Harry sighed and pulled his pillow towards him. Paul snatched it away and tossed it into the corner. Harry would have to walk between Joe and Petunia to retrieve his pillow. He missed the look Joe and Paul shared while he was contemplating how to get his pillow back.

"All right, let's get started." Joe said. "We talked about the rules you set for Harry when he was younger. Harry, why don't you tell us a few rules you would have liked to see." Harry was still in the middle of figuring out how to retrieve his pillow. He tried to pull his feet up, but Paul stopped him again. What was this, plot against Harry day? His frustration snapped and he threw out a hand and summoned the pillow. Paul frowned, Petunia jumped, while Joe fell out of his chair.

"Didn't I tell you that I didn't want you to do any more wandless magic until you've figured out the parameters of your abilities?" Paul asked, but more like demanded. Harry hugged the pillow to himself.

"I did figure it out. I'm fine." Paul took a deep breath before talking again.

"How?" Paul asked. Harry dug out Bleys' book and handed it to Paul. "What is this written in?" He asked.

"Parseltongue." Harry answered. Paul looked through the book before shaking his head.

"I don't want you doing wandless magic right now." Paul told Harry. Harry stared at Paul before jumping up and grabbing his backpack. "Harry!" Harry stormed out of the office and down the hallway. He saw Paul come out after him. Harry did the only thing he could do: he ran. He told the attendant where he was going and headed out into the little wood that ran along one side of the property. He adjusted his backpack and climbed a tree in the middle of the trees. Paul wouldn't look up, would he? Harry reached the highest safe looking branch and curled up on it. He drew out Bleys' book and opened it.

Concern yourself withe neither the past nor the future. Focus only on the present. The past shaped you, but it does not control who you are or of what you are able. The past will control you only if you allow it. Focus only on the present. The future changes with each passing moment. Moment to moment – who knows what the future holds? You cannot control it. Focus only on the present.

He closed the book and drew his legs up. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree. Why was everything so weird? He had thought that he knew where he stood. Now, he wasn't too sure. He wondered if it would just be easier to go back to the magical world. All it would take was one simple spell with his wand. Wizards would show up so fast that he wouldn't have time to change his mind. He could go back where he belonged and he would be safe from Voldemort at Hogwarts. Why had he made this choice? Had he even been thinking at all when he made this decision?

He pulled out his Mini-Messenger and said the password.

-Mi? Are you there? I think I've made a horrible mistake. I want to come back to school. I don't want to be here anymore. I did wandless magic in front of Paul and he got really upset with me and said he didn't want me doing wandless magic. I thought he would understand! He always seemed fascinated when I spoke Parseltongue, but he didn't like the wandless magic. Why? He…he…doesn't understand!

Harry closed the book and sighed as his head came to rest on his knees. He didn't know how long he sat there until his breathing calmed down and those little water things (he refused to name them so that he could pretend it didn't happen) finished falling from his eyes. He sat up and let his legs dangle. He almost fell from his branch when he heard the telltale sound of someone Apparating. Remus wouldn't Apparate here. He usually took the bus or a taxi. Who was it?

A familiar face had Harry clinging to the trunk and trying to blend in with the foliage in his blue shirt. The Hogwarts Potions Master stepped through the parking lot and onto the grounds of St. Jude's Academy.

Author's Note: Should I hide now?