Authors Note: Thanks to the wonderful Paq, who was my first reviewer, and also the only reviewer I didn't know since the only other person to review was my sister (love you!) Anyway, I'm glad you both enjoyed it.

Spoilers: All 5 books

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. smirks evilly but I do own JKR, bought her last week. cracks whip Write, damn you, write!

Chapter One: Dursley Life

'Boy!' Uncle Vernon shouted up the stairs. 'It's about time you got started on dinner!'

Harry smiled. While Uncle Vernon was never likely to treat him as a true member of the family he was certainly treating him better than he ever had before. Harry felt fairly sure he had Moody to thank for that. Professor Lupin might be a werewolf but he looked like a mild mannered librarian, he really wasn't very intimidating unless he got really, really angry. Or it was the full moon.

Mr Weasley, well, much as he loved Ron's dad he really wasn't all that scary. Mrs Weasley was the scary one. And as for Tonks! His Uncle still thought she was 'one of those good-for-nothing teenage punks…always knew there was something freaky about them, wouldn't be surprised if they were all your sort!' And after she'd tripped over her own feet at the station it wasn't hard to see why he wouldn't automatically associate Tonks with the sort of elite law enforcement that the Aurors were. Even if he'd known what aurors were. Harry sometimes had a hard time believing it himself.

No, it was mostly down to Moody. He was definitely intimidating. And with his magical eye, he bore absolutely no resemblance to 'normal' people. The Dursley's definitely didn't want him turning up on their doorstep. The others they might be able to explain away but not Moody.

He laid down the book he had been reading with a smile. The Dursley's still had him doing chores since it was 'only right that the fr…boy pulled his weight around the house' but they weren't nearly so long, nor as hard as they had been in previous years. No long list of tasks impossible to complete which would then lead to a punishment for failing. No, now, even though he was still lumped with most of the work, they took care not to work him so hard that he might be tempted to complain to the Order.

He didn't mind. He'd always enjoyed cooking, and he had found that the physical jobs gave him purpose, left him no time to brood. It wasn't as though he could practice his Quidditch for exercise, not in Little Whinging. And no matter how intimidated the Dursley's might be they certainly weren't about to fork out any money for their freak nephew to go swimming or to the gym or anything. He could have fixed Dudley's old bike but then Dudley would have wanted it back so why waste the effort?

They weren't about to take him anywhere if they could get away with it either, not that Harry was terribly interested in places the Dursley's liked, he was sure they weren't a patch on places like Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. And he'd given his word, even though he didn't particularly like it, to stick close to Privet Drive.

He preferred to fill his days rather than just sit and brood about things he couldn't change. Keeping busy left him tired at the end of the day and meant he was sleeping better than he had done for a while. It gave him something to focus on when he needed it and at other times the repetitious tasks left his mind free to concentrate on more important things. Like Occlumency. He smiled at the thought that he had Aunt Petunia to thank for that.

He had taken to doing a quick once over of the sitting room every morning, a quick dust and tidy up meant he didn't have to spend hours on it when there was company coming. And it was a quiet, undemanding job that wouldn't annoy his aunt while she watched daytime TV. Honestly, the woman spent nearly as much time watching daytime TV and soaps as she did gossiping with the neighbours. Still, he supposed it gave them something to talk about.

A few weeks ago there had been a 'Summer Relaxation' slot on the show, with various people giving little talks or demonstrations on Aromatherapy (he thought that Neville might be interested in that), Tai Chi, Massage and, most importantly to Harry's point of view, Meditation. His ears had pricked up when he heard the woman talk about 'clearing your mind from the stress of everyday life.'

He had watched attentively as she demonstrated breathing patterns and how it helped to 'free your mind and soul from its burdens.' He had been intrigued. She hadn't talked about building mental walls or shielding against mental attacks but then why would a muggle need to? He'd decided to pull a Hermione and head straight for the library.

There had been a surprising amount to choose from. He wasn't too sure about the one which talked about building a 'safe space,' and he hadn't even tried finding a 'power animal' (and wasn't sure if he ever would) but the exercises in clearing the mind were fantastic! It had taken him a few weeks to get the hang of them but he had been determined to manage it so every day, before he got up and before he went to sleep he had practiced.

Once he had started to grasp it he began to try clearing his mind while he pulled weeds, since the repetitious action didn't require a lot of thought. If he was in his room he'd try to meditate for ten minutes before starting on his homework. It really had helped. If Snape had only told him about this, well, he probably wouldn't have actually done it but at least he'd have had a better idea of how to go about Occlumency.

He had written to Hermione asking if she knew of any Muggle books that would help with shielding the mind. Dumbledore had realised at the end of term that it would be practically impossible to stop all his mail so had had to settle for telling Harry that any letter originating from the Order HQ would be carefully vetted. It was annoying to think that at least one of his teachers, or maybe even an unfamiliar member of the Order, had already read his friends letters to make sure they didn't spill any secrets but it was still far better than it had been last year.

Shockingly Hermione hadn't had a list of books, with chapter references, to give him but had suggested looking at anything on Psychic ability. Apparently her Mum had read some romance novels about a psychic detective who had to shield her mind to stop the murderer finding her. Harry had been a little sceptical since most of the Muggle psychics he had seen on TV reminded him strongly of Trelawney but he'd decided to give it a go anyways. It wasn't as if he had access to wizarding bookshops in Little Whinging.

He hadn't found much that was of any use, probably because most of the writers probably had no psychic talent whatsoever - kind of like all those New Age spell books with the little poems to recite (guaranteed to bring you the love of your life!) and which had absolutely nothing to do with real magic. It was amazing sometimes, what ordinary Muggles could believe about magic.

Still, there had been one or two ideas, about imagining a strong shield or building a wall around your mind, which he was willing to try. After all, it wasn't really that much different from imagining a 'safe place.' He wasn't sure if it was working but figured that it couldn't really hurt to try.

He headed down the stairs to make dinner. There had been another improvement there. His portions were still smaller than Dudley's but Aunt Petunia had been so worried about the diet affecting Dudders 'delicate constitution' and Uncle Vernon so annoyed that his son (and himself) were being forced to eat 'bloody rabbit food' that instead they'd gone out and found a new diet, more suited to Dudley's 'athletic capabilities.'

After all, Uncle Vernon said, they couldn't expect a strapping young man like Dudley to put on a good showing in the ring without a proper meal under his belt. Harry didn't think that Dudley being able to punch someone with his fat fist was really that athletic but he didn't complain. He was getting far more to eat, since it wouldn't do for the Order to think they were starving him, and it was all fairly balanced and nutritious.

When added to the food Mrs Weasley still sent him, since, having raised six of her own she was of the opinion that all growing boys were little better than bottomless pits, he was eating far better than he ever had before during the holidays. He was even hopeful that it was beginning to have an effect, or that maybe he was long overdue for a growth spurt. He certainly seemed a little bit taller, and a little more filled out, at least to himself. But it was hard to tell in Dudley's elephantine cast-offs.

He wasn't hoping for miracles, he knew perfectly well he'd probably never catch up with Ron, who was still shooting up like a weed, or Snape, though he would have paid good money to see the Potions Professors face if he was ever able to loom over him. He probably would have been able to sell tickets, but it didn't seem likely to happen. Still, if he managed to hit enough height not to be stuck with being the smallest sixth year then he'd be grateful. At the least it would be one less thing for Malfoy to mock.

Harry was working damn hard this summer, on anything he could get his hands on. After all, Hermione had given him plenty of books over the years as gifts, some of which he had barely bothered to open. Sirius and Remus had got him that excellent set of DADA books last year, which had been a great help with the DA, but he certainly hadn't learnt everything in them. He was doing his best to change that though. He was even going through all his old school books.

Although he knew he was fairly skilled for his age in DADA and Charms he was well aware that he could have done better on most of his OWL's, and he felt that if he at least read over some of his old stuff then maybe he could improve. Magic wasn't like some of the subjects learned in Muggle school where you only needed to remember long enough to pass the test and then you moved onto something new. It was more like maths, where if you didn't know the basics then you struggled with the rest. He didn't want to risk any weaknesses if he could help it.

Hermione was already going on about how much more intense the NEWT level work was and how she wasn't prepared. Personally Harry was more afraid of not being prepared for Death Eaters than exams but either way it was still a good idea to make sure his grasp of OWL level subjects was secure. And he didn't really have a lot else to do in the evenings.

He'd given Dumbledore his word that he wouldn't spend any more time than necessary outdoors once it started getting dark. He'd done most of his holiday homework, had reread the books from his previous years (even Lockhart's, as nauseating as they had been, and then he'd written all of the useful information in a notebook so he never had to look at them again. After all, what use was it knowing what Lockhart favourite colour was?)

He'd even taken to studying Herbology and Potions while he cooked. It was actually quite amusing; working out how much of a certain herb would turn the Dursley's stew poisonous or wondering, if he added some beetle eyes, was it likely to blow up. He'd take a list of the ingredients from a recipe and work out if there were any potions he could make with just them (one dinner party he had been amused to find could have made a simple Flatulence Potion) although usually he had to add other ingredients.

Other times he would try and think of how many potions he could make that included all the herbs and spices that had been in the recipe. While he was working he'd try to list all the magical properties they had and then check his herbology text to see how many he'd gotten right. It was actually one of his better ideas. He'd always enjoyed cooking and relating the drier aspects of the two courses to something he had always loved was certainly helping him to remember the information.

Maybe if he treated it more like cooking he'd get along better in Potions? That is if the greasy git actually let him take the NEWT class, which Harry doubted. Now if only he could do something similar with History of Magic, unfortunately the only thing his studying those books had done was ensure that he fell asleep without too many problems. On the other hand, considering what had happened in the exam, Harry didn't feel it was likely that he'd actually still be taking the class so it didn't really matter all that much.