Disclaimer: See ch.1

A/N: Thank all of you who reviewed. It means allot to me. On that note I want your input on relationships. Should he have one at all? Should Harry be gay, straight, bi or asexual? I intend to set him up with ether on OC or a secondary character if he has a relationship at all. Don't worry, I don't plan on having Harry start a relationship until much later, but it will determine the direction this story takes. There will be no marry sues/stews, if you see one let me know and I will soot to kill. I should also point out that Harry is ten at this point.

A/N2: A special thanks to my proof reader GoddessFanta, your the best!

3: The Prince

Before heading out to fix breakfast I checked to make sure that the small storage space concealing my books was once again covered. That was one of my more lucky finds. The apparently solid back wall of the small cupboard was actually just a thin backing that made the room look more symmetrical. This left a small hollow space at the base of the stairs. Normally I wouldn't have cared, except to rage that it cut into my already limited space. One day, out of boredom, I removed a semi-hidden door that led to the space I found someone's old college books. They were so out of date that they were, mostly, useless; I read them all any way with the help of a good thesaurus, but one struck a strong cord with me.

Machiavelli's "The Prince" was my guiding light, it opened my eyes to the world as it was and gave me the mental tools to forge the simmering need for greatness that was my constant companion into the drive it was today. I no longer let the morality of the weak to dictate my actions. If I was going to become great, such constraints would have to be forsaken. The world is a cold and lonely place to become grate, or even survive, I must be colder. People are pawns, who's only purposes in life are to be used by those who are unafraid to grasp at power.

Seeing the hiding place was reassuringly closed, I wiped my face clear of all emotion and stepped out into the main house. I must present myself as a subservient and normal child until my time for greatness arrived. I walked out down the hall and into the kitchen, and catching sight of Petunia peering eagerly out the window in hopes of witnessing another shouting match. As I quietly salvaged the bacon and eggs, I reflected that she had gotten up early for no reason unless my guess is way off. Ms.Bushman and her daughter would both be feeling guilty about the things they had said, especially, her daughter Sara who had used language that would make a sailor blush.

All this was because Sara felt embarrassed for her mother had been right about her last boyfriend. I was honestly dreading puberty, how could it matter so much if some boy had cheated her, why get so emotional? She should have simply gotten revenge, taken back whatever he had cheated her out of and picked up another boy to slobber all over. This fight had nothing to do with the real problem. Of course it was probably something stupid that had resulted in Sara lashing out with all her pent up resentment, towards her mother for being right, the boy for cheating her and herself for falling for the boy's scam.

As I was considering the bane that is puberty, Vernon came down barely glancing at me and started to read his paper. Dudley was probably going to sleep until noon, after all as Petunia said "A growing boy needs his sleep." I will concede that Dud was growing rounder at an incredible rate. I knew the blissful silence was going to be short lived, naturally I was right.

As I was serving breakfast Petunia finally reached the conclusion that I already had, namely that there will not be any more fireworks next door (for now). So she sat down at the table and started to regale us with the whole sordid affair. The only deviation from my own conclusions was apparently the boy had sex with some other girl. Can you believe it? This entire drama was over the fact that that some hormonal teenage boy had given into the biological urge imprinted on every male, to spread his seed to as many females as possible. She had no one but herself to blame. If she had been smarter, she would have insured his fear of her wrath was stronger than his instinctual drive for more sex.

While Petunia gossiped, happily unaware of her listener's inattention, both Vernon and I finished eating. She only nibbled at some toast; I suspected that she was slightly anorexic. It only made sense for her to envy of other women's figures considering her deep seated jealous nature. It was completely pointless for her in my opinion because no matter how much she tried, she would always look like a horse that was beaten with the ugly stick.

While I cleared the table, Vernon finally emerged from his newspaper and barked out that I was to "Make yourself useful and do what your aunt tells you today BOY." I felt a flash of irritation at the indignity of being called "boy" by a "man" who couldn't even make it through the week without throwing a tantrum. This utter imbecile had no clue how close he was to being reduced to ash. I was only able to keep a stony facade because of long experience dealing with such indignities. I would have to continue to deal with them too, at least until I was ready to take my revenge. That day is fast approaching, and I will see to that.

After making his declaration of my duties for the day he got up, kissed Petunia and left for work. I could tell Petunia was positively bursting to be the first one to start the gossip about the Bushmens. She told me to weed the front garden; she just wanted me out of the house so she could indulge in vicious gossip without having to keep an eye on me. I made my way out front and confirmed that no one was out yet. I closed my eyes and let IT flow outwards griping the roots of several weeds in front of me and tugged. They came up easily, I then sat down and got to work of relaxing under the cover of a tree letting IT do all of the work for me. As IT pulled the weeds, I considered the possibilities of inspiring another fight at the Bushmans, should I ever need to get rid of Petunia for most of the day. She would be too enthralled to notice a brass band marching through the living room. I would be free to go to London, something I had always wanted to do. I had long ago figured out that money is easy to get if you can lift a wallet out of a pocket without touching it. Yes I think it is time Sara and I talked. After all it would be downright rude of me not to pass along all the horrible things that boy, Mark I think his name was, and her mom were saying about her. It would be down right unfriendly not to tell her everyone was laughing at her; and if my telling her just happens to coincide with the day Dudley will be out camping with friends and Vernon had an overnight convention about drills, well all the better for me.

A/N: Pease review. Don't forget to let me know about your preferences concerning his relationship(s) or if he should have one at all.