A/N: I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone
The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Chamber of Secrets
The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Prisoner of Azkaban

Also if you haven't please take part on voting for which story you want me to update next month

Harry's Scar Gives Him Pain Again

"Harry, are you alright?" James asked leaning over Harry as he woke up in their shared room at the Dursleys.

Like James, Harry has messy black hair and glasses. In fact now that Harry hit his growth spurt, he is catching up in height too. His uncle godfather and his dad's best friends Sirius Black—often joked it won't be long before the only thing they have to identify Harry from his father was Harry's lightning bolt shape scar on his forehead and his green eyes that he got from his mother: Lilly Potter.

Harry was laying flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He had awoken from a vivid dream with his hands pressed over his face. The old scar on his forehead was burning beneath his fingers as though someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to his skin.

"Your scar again?" James asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

James got up. "I'll be back."

"But dad…"

"Relax, I'm just getting a damp cloth. Even Vernon can't argue against that." James explained. "Besides, tonight is our last night for the summer."

Ever since the Marge incident last summer, James agreed to lock up his and Harry's wand in the closet under the stairs. Although it will not stop accidental magic, it was the only way for the Dursleys to agree to let them visit. Fortunately, James still remembered some old Muggle remedies and tricks his late wife and Harry's mom taught him.

Harry sat up, one hand still on his scar, the other reaching out for his glasses, which were on his bedside table. He put them on, and the bedroom came clearer focus, lit by a faint orange light that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the window.

Harry tried to recall what he had been dreaming about before he had awoken. It had seemed so real… There had been two people he knew and one he did not… He concentrated hard, frowning, trying to remember…

The dim picture of a darkened room came to him… There had been a snake on a hearth rug… a small man called Peter, nicknamed Wormtail… and a cold, high voice… the voice of Lord Voldemort. Harry felt as though an ice-cube and slipped down into his stomach at the very thought… He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember what Voldemort had looked like, but it was impossible… All Harry knew was that at the moment when Voldemort's chair had swung around, and he, Harry, had seen what was sitting in it, he had felt a spasm of horror, which had awoken him… or had that been the pain in his scar?

And who had the old man been? For there had been an old man, Harry had watched him fall to the ground. It was all becoming confused. Harry put his face into his hands, blocking out his bedroom, trying to hold on to a picture of that dimly lit room, but it was like trying to keep water in his cupped hands; the details were now trickling away as fast as he tried to hold on to them… Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking about someone they had killed, though Harry could not remember the name… and they had been plotting to kill someone else… him!

The door opened and Harry took his face out of his hands, opened his eyes.

"Here, Harry," James offered a rag.

Harry took it and placed it on his scar. Sure enough, the pain ease.

His dad was right. Today was the last day with Dursleys. Then they head to the Weasleys to stay until the Quidditch Cup.

"So tell me about your dream." James said. "I take it Voldemort was in it?"

Harry was not surprise his dad figured it out. This was not the first time his scar hurt. But last time Voldemort was near. Not now.

Harry told his dad the dream.

"So Wormtail found Voldemort," James sighed. "I was afraid that might happen."

At the end of last semester, Wormtail escaped while Harry's other uncle and his dad's best friend Remus went through a werewolf transformation.

"Sorry dad," Harry said.

"It's not your fault Harry. We knew it would happen eventually since Wormtail escaped Azkaban," James said.

"But dad, could this mean Voldemort was nearby?" Harry asked.

"No, we should be safe here as long as your aunt accept us every two weeks," James said.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Ah … well…" James realized he never told Harry the full purpose of these visits. "I guess you're old enough to know now."

"What?" Harry responded.

"Well, you see, Harry, you remember that protection your mom blesses on you?" James asked.

How could Harry forgot. The night his mom died she sacrificed herself to save Harry and cast a powerful charm that protected Harry from Voldemort. That was how he got his scar. Then during Harry's first year that protection manage to save Harry from the touch of a professor that was sharing a body with Voldemort.

"Well, you see Harry. The truth is the reason you still have your mother's protection is because Dumbledore found a way to enhance it. But it is only possible if you stayed with a blood relative of your mother for two weeks," James explained.

"Wait, is that why we had to endure the Dursleys every year?" Harry asked.

"Yes. And at the same time Petunia and her family is granted the same protection from any dark wizards and witches too, thus maintaining their normal muggle lives when we are not around," James said.

"So we have to deal with this for the rest of our lives?" Harry was not too keen to the idea of visiting the Dursleys for two weeks every years for the rest of his life.

"No. Actually. Even with the enhancement, the charm only last until you are seventeen… or until Petunia stops welcoming you to her home," James said.

"So that's the only reason Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon puts up with us?" Harry asked.

"Well, it's possible she might have personal reason to agree, but yes, that's most likely the main reason," James said. "Anyways, as long as Petunia welcomes us to her home Voldemort can't come near here."

"So what about my scar then?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. But tell you what. After we leave today, I'll owl Dumbledore."

Just the reminder that today was the last day was a relief to Harry. Dudley been on a diet since the previous semester at his school Smeltings—which the same school his dad and Petunia's husband Vernon went to. Dudley had gotten so fat not only his uniforms will not fit.

So Petunia manage to agree to a diet based on what the Smelting's school nurse had suggested for Dudley (they even taped the diet suggestions to the fridge), and everyone had to follow Dudley's diet. All of Dudley's favorite meals been taken out of the fridge and filled with diet food—or as Vernon puts it, rabbit food. Too add to it, James and Harry had to agree to follow the diet too while they stay.

"Let's get some rest, Harry," James said. "Sooner we sleep sooner we can leave."

"Oh yeah," Harry agreed, almost forgetting about his dream.