I did not abandon this story, I have to be in the mood for Hp stories and I wanted to figure out a better path for this story, I was really struggling before.


The drive back to Number 4 Privet Drive was tense, just like it always was. There was a routine here, a ritual of sorts, that the four... well now five relatives in the car followed every time Harry and now Adrian returned from Hogwarts to Surrey. Vernon, the small-minded bigot, would drive, snarling whenever he saw something or someone that did not fit in his perfectly normal world; needless to say, he did so the entire way back. Petunia, the gossiping harpy, would make snide comments about all their neighbors, even though it was clear that none of the three males in the car were listening. Dudley, who while a month older than the boy wizard already weighed as much as three Harrys of five Adrians, would constantly stuff candy and sweets down his throat, his piggy eyes seeing nothing but the route between hand and mouth. In the past, Harry would have been silent while he relived whatever traumatic event signaled the closing of the school year. Adrian was made of sterner stuff than Harry though, and he focused on how he was going to make the most of his summer, he refused to be miserable as they always were.

'I need a way to practice magic, if Harry refuses that is his fault but I refuse to be a target for Voldemort. He is back and I, we, need to be prepared... how do we do that though? I think I need to do some reading, Harry's memories are sort of fuzzy academically.'

Vernon's company car finally pulled into the driveway, and the Dursleys left them to gather all their belongings and carry them inside by themselves. Not that it was a task, really, considering that he had put a feather-light charm on his trunk before the Hogwarts Express had arrived at the station, but it was the principle of the matter. Personally, Adrian carried his trunk across the kitchen and had begun to ascend the staircase when he heard Vernon's bellow.

"Boy... boys, you put all your… things in the cupboard. You have so many chores to do that you won't have time for your freakishness."

Adrian frowned and sat his trunk down on the bottom stair and walked back into the kitchen where his uncle was standing.

"No, I have too many magical plans for this summer." Harry, standing behind Vernon, was waving his hands in a don't do it gesture, but Adrian was on a roll. "You can take your chores and shove it."

Vernon pointed a shaking finger at him. "Now you listen here, boy. Your aunt and I put up with your… abnormality, so you will do what we tell you to do to make up for being a drain on us. We put food in your ungrateful mouth—"

"Food that I cook, and get to eat only what the three of you can't put away."

"—and a roof over your head—"

"I'm not sure that a cupboard under the stairs really counts."

"—so you put your damn tricks in that cupboard, or so help me—"

"Or so help you what!" Adrian shouted, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at a shaking Vernon.

"But you can't," the walrus gasped, "they'll expel you from that school of yours."

"Try me you abusive, worthless pile of garbage! I am not Harry, I will always protect myself. Touch me or my brother and I will make your last days more painful then you can imagine. We watched a man die this year, we fought in a tournament of death and misery, you don't scare us. So try me."

By now Vernon's face had turned the white of old porridge, and he stumbled backward only to trip and fall onto the floor. "You can't do that," he whispered, "you aren't tough enough."

"You gave me fourteen years of hatred for you, your wife, and your son. Did you never think that it was going to come back to haunt you?" He walked to where his uncle's body was spread out and pointed the wand straight at the man's forehead. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you now."

The man shuddered and gave out a quiet squeak. "Okay..."

"Good, now that that is settled, you will leave us alone bar meal times, and we will leave you alone. Try and lock us in our rooms, oh I will be taking the spare by the way, and you will see what a mere four years of magical training can do. Especially when you prepared for a death tournament. Sound fun? Good." Turning he gestured for the real, gaping Harry to hurry up the stairs.

They made their way to the spare room, which Adrain started to make his own.

Harry harshly whispered out. "What is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"They are just going to hurt us more now?"

"No they won't, and if they try I will carry through with my threats. Harry, I just got my life, my first and only life, I refuse to let it be dominated by abusive berks with an ego problem." He got close to Harry. "I have magical plans this summer, we need to be prepared for Voldemort, we can't just sit here. Like with the Tournament, we need to prepare ourselves. Hogwarts is not and has never been safe, every year we are in danger. I for one will be prepared. You can either work with me, or do nothing. It is your choice."

Harry just looked at him. "How were you born of me but are so different?"

"A great mystery of our time... but for now, we should go over the spells we learned for the Tournament, anything to bolster our chances to survive. I refuse to me a target this year, Harry... and so should you. I've been thinking about it a lot, between the naps in the Hospital wing and even during my dreams. Those moments of suffering, of survival, they dominate our collective memories. Our lives are always in danger and I refuse to let that be our normal anymore,..."

Harry, kind of a lazy person he was, shocked Adrian by nodding. "Okay... where do we start?

"Let's start with a review of what we learned, Hermione's favorite study methods. We can do flashcards too, Hermione did those a lot, I remember."


Chapter end, tell me what you think in the reviews.

This was a blast to write.

Love, your Ninja Overlord,

Mika.