FIVE

Said smile hadn't left Harry's face the next morning, although it had shifted to a smirk by the time he reached the kitchen for breakfast.

A note from Luna had arrived during the night reminding Harry that it would only be a few more days until he could just relax at her house for the rest of the holidays. Harry was a tiny bit sad for missing Hedwig, but he would see her soon anyway. Like with most things regarding the Lovegoods, the postscript made Harry snort, but also have to wonder exactly how much the Lovegoods really knew.

Harry Potter,

I hope you are having an excellent day! You should be proud of spinning around the sun for another round. Be wary though, Daddy tells me you are more at risk from Neddlecrites the more exposure you get to time-dust. I am sure they can't be that bad, but let me know so I can prepare myself if they are.

Has your holiday been good? I always love being home. Hogwarts is nice, but even the grounds are a little unimaginative. A friend of our family visited last week and has shown us an excellent charm! I'm excited to show you. Our grass is every colour except green, and changes sporadically. Daddy has his suspicions that it is acting like a mood detector for the ocean spirits that live in the creek at the end of our wards.

Oh, that reminds me.

I didn't know you asked Daddy for plums last year, you could have just asked me. We are both looking forward to your stay, Daddy has talked up your cooking abilities but we are all out of plums. They only fruit when no one is looking, and we can't help but watch for them in anticipation. I have a gift for you, it's from Daddy too, but you'll have to wait until you get here.

I'm sending you a hug with the faeries. It's said that you should feel it every time you feel a bit low throughout the day.

Luna.

P.S. Will you bring Stubby Boardman? We don't have much extra room, but Daddy would love to get his autograph.

Luna's note had cheered Harry even more from the good mood he'd woken in, and he had to remind himself not to whistle on the way to breakfast. Harry walked into the kitchen in time to catch the middle of the muggle report on Sirius.

'…the public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately.'

'No need to tell us he's no good,' snorted Uncle Vernon, staring over the top of his newspaper at the prisoner.

'Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!'

He shot a nasty look sideways at Harry, whose untidy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Uncle Vernon. Compared to the photo the television station had of Sirius, however, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, Harry felt very well groomed indeed.

The reporter reappeared.

'The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today —'

'Hang on!' barked Uncle Vernon, staring furiously at the reporter. 'You didn't tell us where that maniac's escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!'

Harry remembered this conversation well, and waited for his Aunt Petunia to be looking intently out the window before speaking in a carefully nonchalant voice. He was about to squash any desire in her to be the one to call the hotline, nosiest woman in the world or not.

'Oh, don't you remember him Aunt Petunia? He was at my parents wedding. Best man.' Harry looked up to see his Aunt go sheet white.

'Wh- what?'

'Yeah. Sirius Black is my Godfather. You've met him.'

This had double the effect needed. It was a reminder that Petunia had had dealings with Lily, and also had a supposed killer Godfather. Again, Harry would hardly be mentioning that Sirius was innocent.

It seemed none of the Dursleys could form a response to that (although to be fair, Harry wasn't even sure Dudley had been paying attention until Petunia dropped the plate she had been holding).

'So what time is Aunt Marge's train arriving?' Harry asked his uncle with an innocent smile a couple of minutes into the chaos.

'T-ten.'

'Well it's going on nine now. Shouldn't you be heading to the station? Wouldn't want to miss her.' Harry gave another innocent smile before standing to rinse his plate then leave the room.

He didn't go far however. Dudley was quickly sent upstairs to change, while Vernon rushed to find his coat and headed out to the car. Harry waited five minutes on the stairs after he heard the car roll out of the driveway, before he headed back into the kitchen. Poor Petunia was going to get more reminders. Harry felt a tiny bit bad, so paused at the balustrade and dropped Apep off.

.:You best head back to my room:.

.:Best for whom?:.

Harry snorted.

.:Just do it please:.

.:For you Harry:. Apep snapped playfully at Harry, who had flicked him on the nose for a response.

Petunia was digging around in the cleaning cupboard, and let out a surprised whine when she saw him again. Upon seeing what she was doing, Harry raised one amused eyebrow at the expensive bottle of Gin she was hiding inside an old laundry detergent box that sat at the back of the cupboard.

'What do you want now, Boy?' She snapped. She never had been one to explain herself to him. Harry ignored the attitude and sat gracefully onto the chair Dudley had left pulled out and balanced one ankle over his knee, arm resting along the top of the chair beside him. He smirked down at her looking perfectly calm and relaxed. He had picked Petunia, because despite appearances, she was actually the weaker link.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

'So, I can't help but remember reading my mothers journal about the time your Aunt Sophie came to visit.' Harry said in a casual voice.

Petunia sniffed. 'Aunt Sophie always did favor Lily. Just like the rest of them.'

'Hmm…' Harry pretended to find a bit of dirt under his nails. 'So she was allowed in on our little secret.'

Pentunia sneered a little. 'Get to your point? I haven't got time for idle chit chat.'

'Well,' Harry said, leaning forward with an evil glint in his eye, 'You may or may not be aware, but I'm rather popular in my world.'

'You've brought up that nonsense more than enough this morning- Boy.'

'Oh, I was just thinking, that my own Aunt shouldn't be excluded.' Petunia's face showed her confusion, but Harry pushed on figuring she'd catch on soon enough. 'I'm sure if I wrote to the Minister for Magic, that dear Cornelius would be pleased to help out Harry Potter. If I wanted my most favorite Aunt to share my life secrets with, they would be more than happy to accommodate me. No pesky magical removal squad or obliviators.'

About half way through Petunia came to the horrifying conclusion that Harry was referring to Aunt Marge. She went white as a sheet and stopped mid-movement to stare at Harry in horror; the scourer paused in mid air on its way back to the cupboard.

'Don't you dare!' She eventually snarled.

Harry slowly let a smirk bleed onto his face, and Petunia paled.

'Why shouldn't I?'

'You won't eat for the rest of the holidays!'

'I wonder how most-favored-dogs hold up against hungry, nine foot, poisonous snakes?'

'No.'

'But Marge is family!' Harry put on an obviously fake concerned voice.

'I'll lock you back in that cupboard!'

'Doubtful, Apep wouldn't like it. I really do think dearest Aunt Marge should know. Unless-…'

'Yes?' Harry saw Petunia flinch at herself for sounding so pathetically weak, but she didn't take it back. His smirk increased and he pulled the permission slip out from his pocket and placed it carefully in the middle of the table followed neatly by a black pen. 'Sign on the dotted line please.

Petunia sneered down at the form not moving. She was obviously torn about giving Harry something he actually wanted.

Harry nudged the pen next to the form, his face hard.

'You will not say one thing about your filthy habits to, or within hearing of, Marge?!'

Harry sneered a little at the description of his magic, but nodded once. 'We will keep this between ourselves.'

Petunia actually seemed a little relieved at that, but didn't back down.

'You will leave no later than one day after Marge does.'

Harry had been intending to anyway, but saw no reason to let Petunia think she might need to get more out of him. 'I suppose… so long as the wards are fully charged.'

'So be it then.' Petunia sneered, then snatched up the form and signed. As her pen left the page she let out a small gasp.

As it happens, the pen Harry had found in Knockturn wasn't cursed with just a simple addiction curse. It also was a type L Blood pen. It wasn't illegal like Umbridge's type N, but was highly frowned upon. When someone (magical or not) signed an agreement, the pen pricked their hand and imbedded the ink with a 1% grade of their blood. It also wasn't legally binding, but it caused a strong compulsion for the people involved in the agreement to stick to the word as it were. It wasn't illegal because it was based on the perceptions, not the words on the paper. So you couldn't accidentally sign your life away. However by the same rule, the contract you signed was outweighed by a verbal agreement, and the actual words on the paper didn't matter at all. They were highly sought after on the black market for paper-trail-free (il)legal agreements. It was pure luck that Harry bought it, as he had just liked what it looked like. He made a mental note to return to Curios as he had now found several gems in amongst the supposed junk.

Harry snatched the form away from Petunia and smirked once before heading up to his room to put the form away. It would be a test of his patience for the next few days, but then again… it's not like he promised not to use magic on Marge; He only promised not to say anything about it.

Harry never really wanted to see Marge ever again, and a large portion of him had wanted to just return, charge the wards and leave before she even arrived. Unfortunately the logical part of his brain registered that it would be very difficult for the Dursleys to explain to Marge why her favorite nephew (to torment constantly) wasn't there. Harry knew that one of the reasons she visited so often during his childhood was because there were few things Aunt Marge liked better than picking on Harry. It would have made her disagreeable for the Dursleys, which in turn would have made them disagreeable with him. Surprisingly Harry didn't want that. It was excellent only having to return for two or three days a year, so despite despising Marge, he had decided to return for her visit to maintain the positive replenishment of the wards.

Harry cringed as he heard Vernon beep the horn pulling back into the drive a half hour later. He had sent Hadwin to Luna's that morning, and had spent the last few hours arguing with Apep about revealing himself if he thought Harry might be in danger. Apep had been abnormally stubborn about it, and after the exhaustive conversation Harry now had a cramp in his tongue of all places. He may be able to talk to snakes, but even for magicals it wasn't ever going to be natural. Apep had lost the argument, but was now back in his pouch, wrapped around Harry a fair bit tighter than normally comfortable.

As such, it was a very distracted Harry that passed Dudley in the hall down to greet Marge.

'Oi Potter!' he stage-whispered.

It wasn't until later reflection Harry realised it was odd for Dudley to bother whispering to him at all. It wasn't like he had ever gotten in trouble for tormenting Harry, quite the opposite in fact.

'What do you want Dudley?' Harry asked distracted. Having promised not to mention magic he would be reverting to his treatment pre-1st year, and could expect a yelling if he wasn't downstairs before Vernon even anticipated needing him.

With the other distraction Harry's instinct was to duck quickly out of the way when Dudley stuck out his arm. When nothing came of it, Harry looked up at Dudley in confusion. Reflected back at him was a pensive look that appeared entirely foreign and strange for Harry to see on Dudley Dursley's face.

'What's this then?' Harry asked warily. He had barely seen Dudley for the last few years and he wasn't the same as Harry remembered, so Harry didn't really know what to expect.

'It's a lollie, idiot!' Dudley whispered out again.

Harry frowned. 'Oh?'

Dudley shook the hand containing the single hard-boiled lollie under Harry's nose. 'Aren't you gonna take it?'

Harry eyed his cousin warily and slowly took the lollie, surprised when Dudley didn't snatch his hand away at the last minute.

Apparently Harry's Slytherin mask wasn't working at all, and all of his confusion must have shown on his face, as Dudley rolled his eyes and gave Harry a nudge towards the stairs.

'You eat it. Dim-wit.' Dudley pushed past Harry right before they both reached the front door. 'Happy Birthday, Freak.'

The last part was the barest of whispers, but it sent Harry's world spiraling in to shock. Harry's brain shuddered to a halt and he stood staring open-mouthed at the back of Dudley's head. He remained frozen like that until he realised he had missed Marge's entire introduction, had somehow been shuffled into the kitchen, and everyone was suddenly looking expectantly at him.

Harry looked blankly back at Marge, desperately trying to remember the previous timeline's conversation, but coming up blank.

'Yes.'

In the end he figured he had about a forty percent chance it was a yes/no question, and that yes was an acceptable answer.

'Don't you say yes in that ungrateful tone,' Aunt Marge growled. 'It's damn good of Vernon and Petunia to keep you. Wouldn't have done it myself. You'd have gone straight to an orphanage if you'd been dumped on my doorstep.'

Harry's sarcastic reply that he would have preferred anywhere else up to and including an orphanage was much easier to hold in while he was busy congratulating himself on pulling off an answer. He managed a strained smile.

'Don't you smirk at me!' boomed Aunt Marge. 'I can see you haven't improved since I last saw you. I hoped that new school would knock some manners into you.' She took a large gulp of tea, wiped her mustache, and said, 'Where is it that you send him, again, Vernon?'

'St. Brutus's,' said Uncle Vernon promptly. 'It's a first-rate institution for hopeless cases.'

He looked pleased with himself for a second, before the hard reality, that he hadn't given Harry his demands on behavior after the distraction with Sirius, settled over him with a cold wave.

'I see,' said Aunt Marge oblivious to her brother's sudden discomfort. 'Do they use the cane at St. Brutus's, boy?' she barked across the table at Harry.

'Harry caught his uncle's eye, and purposely paused for a long minute, enjoying watching Vernon sweat. 'Oh yeah. All the time.'

Relief was quickly followed by glee on Vernon's face, and the general tone of Harry's life went rapidly downhill from there.

Aunt Marge, unlike the Dursleys who like to forget Harry existed, liked Harry under her eye at all times, so that she could boom out suggestions for his improvement. She delighted in comparing Harry with Dudley, and took huge pleasure in buying Dudley expensive presents while glaring at Harry, as though daring him to ask why he hadn't got a present too. She also kept throwing out dark hints about what made Harry such an unsatisfactory person.

'The boy's hair is wild! What does he do? Electrocute himself daily!? You ought to shave it all off, Petunia, dear. Although it's probably bad genetics.'

'Not everybody can be well supported like you, Dudders. Some people are unfortunate enough to live their life as a skeleton. I put down a dog like that last week.'

'No doubt the boy's grades were dismal. In normal circumstances I'd suggest sending him to a good school like Dudders', but in this case it would clearly be a waste.'

'What is wrong with your coordination, Boy?! You've spilt tea everywhere.' She complained when Ripper came running in and bowled Harry over from behind. 'Clean it up. No, don't use a cloth. You've kept your clothes looking like rags, you may as well use them for it.'

For the most part, she sniped at things that Harry had already fixed outside the Dursleys, and had changed back for the visit. On the evening of the second night she's gleefully taken Harry's glasses, saying Ripper had an eye for them, and had laughed as he'd struggled through the cooking. Of course Harry could actually see perfectly, and he just took it as an opportunity to take twice as long so they had to eat late, and to put extra spice in when he accidentally knocked the chili powder over. Aunt Marge hated hot foods.

It was either insults or she would complain about things he didn't control (like his genes) but for the most part he didn't see them as negative anyway as they had almost polar opposite views. She took a great pleasure in insulting Harry's parents, something that in the past had never failed to get a rise out of Harry. However now Harry actually agreed with her for the most part and he was frustrating her to no end with his lack of response.

Harry was going really well at being utterly unconcerned with what Marge had to say, right up until lunchtime on the third day. The three adult Dursleys had been indulging in wine (Harry noted it was a cheaper version than Petunia normally bought) since breakfast and were getting rather sloshy.

'You've had rather a hard few years Vernon; you should have got that last promotion. Denwell sounds like a parasite.'

'I was rather busy with other things, Michael just had more time than me.' Vernon talked himself out of the guilt. It took a lot of control for Harry not to snort too loudly. Unfortunately the abortive movement drew Marge's attention anyway. She looked at him and her eyes narrowed. Harry was the only one who saw it. Internally he sighed.

'To true, to true, brother. You have to look after your son too, which Denwell doesn't have to worry. Not to mention the other one. Things would have gone a lot smoother without him.'

Facing away from Marge and pretending to watch the football with Dudley, Harry rolled his eyes.

'Why his parent's had to go and get themselves killed I don't know.' Marge continued, at which point she turned and sneered at Harry. 'Although… if they knew he was going to turn out like this…' She paused and increased her sneer, 'Well, I wouldn't be surprised if they wouldn't have just abandoned him to someone else anyway. I know I wouldn't have kept a-'

At that moment, the wineglass Aunt Marge was holding exploded in her hand. Shards of glass flew in every direction and Aunt Marge sputtered and blinked, her great ruddy face dripping.

'Marge!' squealed Aunt Petunia. 'Marge, are you all right?'

'Not to worry,' grunted Aunt Marge, mopping her face with her napkin. 'Must have squeezed it too hard. Did the same thing at Colonel Fubster's the other day. No need to fuss, Petunia, I have a very firm grip…'

But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were both looking at Harry suspiciously.

Harry barely saw them. He had been fine, more amused at Marge's pathetic jibes than anything else. But suddenly he went from mildly annoyed but relatively happy, to devastated. His chest tightened and he had to clench his teeth and his hands. He felt a second of anger, in which his magic lashed out at Marge, and her wineglass exploded, before he was completely enveloped in absolute sorrow. He skipped dessert to get away from the table as soon as he could.

He stood outside in the hall, leaning against the wall and breathing deeply until he could bring himself back from the brink of crying. It had been a long time since he'd lost control and made something explode. In fact, it had only happened twice since he turned nine or so the first time around, and once had been this very day last timeline. Marge had a way of getting under his skin. The only other time had been when Dumbledore had told him of the Prophecy after Sirius died.

He couldn't afford to let it happen again. Apart from anything else, in this timeline he didn't have a single spot on his record, as he hadn't been around for Dobby to drop a cake on someone's head. But more importantly his power had increased by spades after he reached magical maturity, and that power had come back with him and seemed to be adding to what his eleven-year-old self had had. That had only been a minor spike because he hadn't been expecting it at all, so he had got it under control very quickly. A major one could now flatten the neighborhood if he let it.

At long last, the Dursleys sat down for the final meal of Marge's stay. Aunt Petunia cooked a fancy dinner and Uncle Vernon uncorked several more bottles of wine. They got all the way through the soup and the salmon without a single mention of Harry's faults; during the lemon meringue pie, Uncle Vernon bored them a with a long talk about Grunnings; then Aunt Petunia made coffee and Uncle Vernon brought out a bottle of brandy.

'Can I tempt you, Marge?'

Harry eyed the bottle warily. Marge was already drunk, and this hadn't gone well last time.

'Just a small one, then,' she chuckled. Her huge face was very red. 'A bit more than that…and a bit more…that's the ticket.'

Dudley was eating his fourth slice of pie and seemed oblivious to the inebriation of the adults. Aunt Petunia was sipping coffee with her little finger sticking out. Harry glanced at the clock again, counting down the seconds until nine, when he knew Vernon would need to take Marge to the train station.

'Aah,' said Aunt Marge, smacking her lips and putting the empty brandy glass back down. 'Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after…' She burped richly and patted her great tweed stomach. 'Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy,' she went on, winking at Dudley. 'You'll be a proper-sized man, Dudders, like your father. Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Vernon…'

'Now, this one here-'

She jerked her head at Harry, who felt his stomach clench. Dear Merlin, he thought.

'This one's got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred.'

Harry was carefully maintaining his Slytherin mask.

'It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia' she patted Aunt Petunia's bony hand with her shovel-like one and Harry was reminded of Hagrid for a moment. 'but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result right in front of us.'

Better than the genetics from a killer whale Harry mused to himself, slyly glancing at Dudley and Vernon.

'This Potter,' said Aunt Marge loudly, 'you never told me what he did?'

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were looking extremely tense. Dudley had even looked up from his pie to gape at his parents.

'He… didn't-' Vernon started, but Harry cut him off.

'Dad was a cop.' He recognized a momentary surprise on the Dursley's faces, and Harry wondered if it was because he interrupted, or because they didn't know.

'Ha! Probably a corrupt one.' said Aunt Marge, taking a huge swig of brandy and wiping her chin on her sleeve. Harry said nothing, as he didn't particularly care to defend James Potter. Marge seemed to take courage from that.

'No doubt the lot of you lived of his probably too big wage.' She said, and then glanced at Petunia.

'Lily didn't work.' Petunia confirmed. It wasn't quite true, as Lily had been researching, and had been working for The Order, but again, Harry wouldn't really bother to waste any effort defending her.

Marge was gleeful at being able to finish her monologue.

'So, a no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who —'

'MORE BRANDY!' yelled Uncle Vernon, who had gone very white. Harry was completely confused as to why, until he caught a view of himself in the window to the garden. His eyes were almost glowing. He had been right there along with Marge, only he was sneering a list of the faults Lily actually did posses and had been working himself up. Obviously Vernon had seen this and didn't want the neighborhood flattened either. Vernon emptied the bottle into Aunt Marge's glass. 'You, boy,' he snarled at Harry. 'Go to bed, go on-'

'No, Vernon,' hiccupped Aunt Marge, holding up a hand, her tiny bloodshot eyes fixed on Harry's. 'Go on, boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash, drunk, I expect,'

'They didn't die in a car crash.' said Harry calmly, surprising all of the Dursleys. But Marge was too far-gone to recognize his tone.

'They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives!' screamed Aunt Marge, swelling with fury. 'You are an insolent, ungrateful little shit who is nothing but a blemishment on my own excellent brother's life!'

Aunt Marge finished so abruptly that for a moment Harry thought he'd somehow managed to blow her up again, however it seemed that she was waiting for Harry to respond. Harry didn't have the foggiest idea how to do so.

On the one hand, he could pretend anger, however he didn't really feel it, and the fight would only escalate. On the other hand, he could apologize. He didn't think that would work either. He had a total mental blank, and just sat there staring at Marge watching her slowly get a tick in one eye.

The odd family sat in total silence for a moment, before Dudley looked up from the TV and surprised everyone by announcing 'I have always thought about becoming a cop.'

Petunia looked torn between being proud, and being disgusted he might have even the slightest link with James Potter. Surprisingly (as far as Harry was concerned) Aunt Marge left the previous conversation completely off, and moved on to praising Dudley. In fact, Harry managed to stay almost entirely forgotten for the rest of the evening right up until Vernon's watch alarm went of a ten to nine and he was told to help carry Marge's suitcase out to the car.

By help the of course meant do, and do with a yapping dog running circles around your feet. Harry thought he might actually get through the whole evening unscathed, when suddenly Ripper started growling at the bushes and went deadly still, causing Harry to trip over him and drop Marge's (incredibly heavy) suitcase from the top of the stairs. He watched as it tumbled once, twice, then landed heavily on Marge, bowling her to the ground. There was a nasty crunch, quickly followed by a horrible scream as Marge's wrist snapped cleanly in half under the combination of the suitcase's, and her own, heavy weight.

Vernon screamed as well and rushed over to help Marge off her arm. Petunia rushed back inside yelling that she would call the ambulance, stepping over Harry not even pausing to see if Harry was even injured at the bottom of the stairs, which he had fallen down. Harry lay on the ground, perfectly still.

Dudley however had noticed that Harry was okay (minus a few new scrapes and bruises), and seemed to be staring off to the right of the grand commotion.