Author's Notes:

Well, I decided that I'd post one more chapter this weekend. There's hardly anything here really, haven't gotten to the meat of the story yet, and one more chapter brings us one more chapter closer to it. Also, this should put the story beyond the point of 10,000 words, which I'm really pretty thrilled about.

I don't intend to post any more chapters than this before the next weekend unless I get everything up to chapter ten written out, because I think it would be nice to have five chapters up and five more chapters ready to go. But with work, I seriously doubt that's going to happen.

Anyways, without further ado, here is . . .

Chapter 4

In the first few weeks after Harry's departure for Hogwarts, Brandon and he exchanged letters almost every single day, but as the weeks turned to months, and the school year went on, it eventually dropped down to about twice a week.

Brandon read all about the classes his cousin was taking, and about all the adventures he had with his new friends, Ron and Hermione, throughout the year. Three headed dogs, philosopher's stones, trolls in dungeons, dragons - the works.

A couple of times, Harry even sent him some magical candy. Brandon had been stupid enough to open a chocolate frog while his mother was in the room. Thankfully, she hadn't been looking at that moment, and he managed to capture the rouge frog fairly quickly. It had come with a card, like Harry said it would in the accompanying letter, that showed a picture of a famous witch or wizard, and Brandon got to see his first moving picture. It also had a short paragraph about that witch or wizard's life and accomplishments. Brandon's was the witch Morgana.

Needless to say, he could hardly wait until it was time for him to go to Hogwarts too, and as the months went on, he found himself more and more afraid that his parents wouldn't let him attend. He never dared bring up the subject to them directly. He simply reminded himself that Hagrid had said that Professor Dumbledore would probably come personally to talk to them, doing his best to convince himself that it would all work out.

Hoping to prepare himself, Brandon had been trying to practice magic all year long, with little success. Not that he expected much. He knew from his letters with Harry that successfully performing magic without a wand was very difficult to do on purpose. But that wasn't enough to stop him from trying. He would think back to all the times he had ever done accidental magic, and try to put his mind back in the situation to see if he could replicate the effects. He'd had some minimal success trying to magically close a door. He'd moved his bedroom door a whole six inches one time when he was really concentrating.

He'd tried it on a much smaller scale with small objects - marbles, paperclips, pens, and such - and had a little more success. He could make the objects slowly slide across a surface, but he could never make them levitate or anything of that sort.

In the week before Harry was supposed to come home, Harry wrote him about what had happened when they were trying to protect the Philosopher's Stone. More importantly - at least, as far as Brandon's worries were concerned - he had had a nice long talk with Professor Dumbledore, who had said he would be visiting Number Four in a few weeks to personally talk to the Dursleys about Brandon's acceptance into Hogwarts. This had Brandon practically jumping for joy.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the day came that Vernon and Brandon would travel to London to pick up Harry from Kings Cross. Upon seeing his cousin again for the first time in almost a year, Brandon attacked Harry with a monstrous hug. "I missed you so much Harry!"

"You must be Brandon," said a tall, ginger-haired boy that was standing next to Harry. "Nice to meet you."

"And you must be Ron," Brandon replied, offering his hand, which Ron shook. "You too." He noticed a girl standing behind Harry. "And Hermione?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Brandon Dursley."

After the brief exchange of pleasantries - while Vernon was very conveniently off using the public restroom - a girl's voice cried out excitedly, "There he is, Mum, there he is! Look!"

It was a little red-haired girl, that Brandon was certain could only be a Weasley. "Your sister?" he asked Ron, who nodded, looking a little red.

"Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mum! I can see -"

"Be quiet, Ginny," said a somewhat plump, middle-aged, red haired woman, who was probably their mother. "And it's rude to point."

"Busy year?" she asked Harry and Ron with a smile as she and Ginny approached their little group.

"Very," Harry told her. "And thank you for the fudge and sweater, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, it was nothing dear," she told him sweetly. "And this young man beside you must be your cousin?"

"Brandon Dursley, ma'am," he told her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Weasley."

"You boys are both so polite," she beamed at them.

"Ready are you?" spoke Vernon's voice as he came up behind them. Brandon could just tell he was thinking, The nerve of these freaks! Carrying owl cages in a station filled with ordinary people!

"You must be Harry's uncle!" Mrs. Weasley said with a smile, oblivious to the fact that he felt insulted by her very existence.

"Yes, yes," Vernon said irritably. "Hurry up, boy! We haven't got all day." He walked away.

Brandon and Harry hung back long enough to get in a word with Ron and Hermione.

"Hope you have - er - a good holiday," Hermione said, looking uncertainly after her friend's uncle.

"Hope to see you over the summer, Harry," Ron said.

"We'll see where we stand after we've had our visit from Dumbledore," Harry said. "I'll send Hedwig. See you both next term, hopefully sooner!"

X X X

As soon as they had arrived home from Kings Cross, Vernon had hauled Harry's trunk inside the house and locked it under the stairs, much to Harry and Brandon's dismay. He had wanted to lock Hedwig inside her cage the whole summer too, saying that he didn't want the neighbors noticing an owl hanging around the house; Harry not being able to send any letters would be an added bonus. Brandon, however, managed to talk him out of it.

"Harry's friends will be expecting him to write to them, and if he doesn't, they might show up here to check and see if he's okay," he had told his father. "Would you rather chance the neighbors seeing an owl hanging around the house at night, or a Wizard knocking at the door in the afternoon?"

These words left a definite impression on Vernon. "Fine," he'd said. "But you're only to let her out at night, and you'd best make bloody well sure she's back inside very early in the morning!"

During the following week, whenever the rest of the Dursleys were out of earshot, Harry gave his cousin an oral account of everything that had happened during his school year, answering all of Brandon's questions. Brandon, in turn, told Harry about how he'd been trying to practice magic.

"You mean it actually worked?" Harry asked, looking impressed, when his cousin told him one night in their bedroom. "That's brilliant! Show me."

Brandon pulled a marble out of his pocket and set it on the floor. With a little effort trying to concentrate - he'd never tried doing it with an audience before - the marble started to roll. He managed to direct it so that it rolled around in a perfect circle.

"Wicked!" Harry exclaimed. "Wandless magic is supposed to be really difficult! I think I remember Hermione saying that it's only taught at Hogwarts once you reach your seventh year, and even then, not everyone can do it."

"I think it might be because I'm still untrained. That's when accidental magic happens the most often, right? During the time before you start going to Hogwarts?" Brandon asked, forming a theory. "Maybe what I'm doing is kind of - controlled accidental magic, and I won't be able to do it anymore once I've started working with an actual wand."

"I don't know," Harry said thoughtfully. "You should definitely ask one of the Professors when we get to Hogwarts. I bet Professor Flitwick or Professor McGonagall could tell you."

Finally, on a Saturday, with Vernon home from work, the day came that Harry and Brandon were waiting for. From the window in the living room, Brandon saw the tall, bearded man approaching the house, wearing outrageous violet colored robes. He thought about hurrying to answer the door, but decided against it, reasoning that it would probably be best if his Vernon answered it himself. Brandon could hardly wait to see his Dad's reaction.

Vernon didn't disappoint. He opened the door, and his mouth fell open at the sheer audacity of the man standing before him. How dare this madman knock on his door dressed like that?

"Boy!" Vernon shouted up the stairs at Harry, who came running down the stairs just a few seconds later.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Dursley," the bearded man greeted him cordially, as though Vernon had not just shouted. "I am Professor Dumbledore. Would you like to invite me inside, or should I stand out here all day where your neighbors can see me?"

Brandon thought it was almost comical how quickly his father ushered the strange-looking man inside after that statement, and how he made sure to close all the curtains to the windows.

By this point, Petunia had come into the room to see who it was and dropped her feather duster as soon as she saw the man standing in her living room.

"Good afternoon, Petunia," Professor Dumbledore said with a bright smile. "It has been far too long."

Brandon watched as his mother seemed to pull herself together. "Not long enough, if you ask me," she said evenly. "The last time I saw you, you took my sister away from me. Now you plan to do the same with my son?" Her voice became more venomous as she went. "I will not have it! Vernon, tell him, we will not have it!"

"Your son is magical, Petunia," Professor Dumbledore said before her husband could get a word in. "There is no denying it. He needs to learn to control his powers, and Hogwarts is the best place -"

"Rubbish!" Vernon shouted. "Even if my son is a little strange, that doesn't mean that he has to become - to become one of you! He can live a normal life, go to a regular school. I've already registered him to go to Smeltings with Dudley!"

"That is exactly what it means," Dumbledore said. "If Brandon is not trained to use his magic, the raw untapped power within him will build up until it finally forces it way out, in unexpected ways and unpredictable times." The Dursleys looked horrified at this revelation. "Sometimes it will be harmless, he could accidentally make objects levitate, or make the carpet change color, but other times," Dumbledore looked sad as he said this, as though he was speaking from personal experience, "other times, the magic will emerge violently. One very bad temper tantrum would be all it would take to leave this house in ruins."

"You're lying!" Vernon said, though somewhat deflatedly. The battle seemed half won.

Brandon chose this moment to demonstrate what he could do. He concentrated with all his might, and the couch slid three feet across the floor. Everyone in their room immediately turned their attention to him. Harry was smiling from his place by the foot of the stairs, his mother started sobbing violently, Dumbledore looked surprised and maybe a little concerned, and his father was shaking his head, with his eyes closed, as if refusing to believe it.

"You see what your son is capable of?" Dumbledore told them. "That is nothing compared to what could happen should he lose control in an emotional situation. The instances of accidental magic will only become worse and more frequent as time goes on."

"Let's say that we do let him go to your school," Petunia began.

"Petunia!" Vernon exclaimed.

"You saw what happened," she said tearfully to her husband. "We can't just keep ignoring it."

"But - but -," Vernon couldn't think of anything to say.

"If we allow him to go to your school, could he still live a normal life?" Petunia continued.

"Some wizards do choose to integrate themselves into muggle lives rather than live in the wizarding world, it's true," Dumbledore told her. "But to be honest, not many choose that path, and those that do often do so because they don't have much other choice."

Petunia looked thoughtful for a moment. Vernon meanwhile looked in a stupor, seemingly unable to believe that his wife was even considering this. He would open his mouth to speak, but no words would come out, so he'd close it again.

"Will you take him yourself to get his school supplies?" Petunia finally asked.

Brandon looked at Harry, scarcely believing how smoothly this whole thing was going.

"I'm afraid I cannot go myself," Professor Dumbledore said. "However, I believe the parents of Harry's friend Ron, the Weasleys, would be more than happy to take both Brandon and Harry to Diagon Alley during the summer. Arthur and Molly are good people, and I'm certain you have no intention of venturing into Wizarding London yourselves."

"We'll want to meet them," Petunia told him.

"That can be arranged," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling in his smile. "I'll send them an owl."

Vernon finally found his voice again, "Are we really doing this, Petunia? Are we going to allow our son to - to become a freak at that school?!"

"It's not something you can choose for me," Brandon said loudly. "I myself am not choosing to be a freak. I was born a freak, and it's not something you can just stamp out of me!"

His dad looked totally defeated. "Fine," he said. "You can go to that school. To - to Hogwarts." He said the last word like it left a very bad taste in his mouth.

"Well," Dumbledore said, "I'm glad that this visit has come to a happy conclusion. I shall see both of you next year, Harry - Brandon." He nodded to the two of them. "And I thank the both of you for your hospitality, and bid you a good day," he added, turning to the Dursleys. And with that, he turned around and walked out the door.

"Bollocks," Vernon said, and Brandon and Harry smiled to each other.

That night, Harry wrote a letter to the Weasleys. Most of the letter was for Ron, but he also included a part intended for Mrs. Weasley, doing his best to be polite rather than presumptuous, asking if they would be kind enough take he and his cousin to Diagon Alley, as well if it would be alright if they could stay over for a while during the summer. They were somewhat alarmed, however, when Hedwig arrived back at the window, less than an hour later, with no letter tied to her leg, looking rather agitated.

Author's Note: Leaving you with a minor cliffhanger. Aren't those fun?