Chapter 2

Disclaimer; you know the drill, I don't own Harry, Lily, James and wouldn't even want to own the Dursleys if you paid for it. Or maybe just to get them a trial on child neglect and abuse.

AN; I loved to see you liked the first part and hope you appreciate this one as well.

Chapter 2

You could say that the Dursleys did not really appreciate him being there; Petunia didn't like her sister, and the magic she stood for. Actually, Petunia had been so jealous; the pretty Lily was a witch and their parents actually were proud she was. Every holiday Lily would come home with fantastic stories, new tricks and magical items, not that she was ever allowed to show any real magic thank god. But every Holiday all the attention would go to Lily, not noticing that she, Petunia had her parents to herself the rest of the year. She had carefully nurtured her jealousy, blaming Lily and her fellow freaks when their parents had died in an odd way. She was right on that count, but Lily couldn't help it that Voldemort had taken an interest in her. And those feelings got worse when Petunia noticed a walking, talking toddler a bit younger that her own Duddidums, while her precious didn't even try to say more than single words or doing more than a bit of crawling. Not realising that that was all her fault; she would run when he uttered a single wail, a pointing finger or single word being enough for her to understand him. Every time happily carrying him around to where he wanted to go, Dudley had no reason to learn.
Vernon was just a bit obsessed with climbing the social ladder, and he believed that you had to be perfectly normal to do that. And well, you can't consider magical sisters-in-law normal, can you? And a magical nephew living in your own house was totally out of the question.
And Dudley? Well, he was just a one-and-a-half year old toddler, spoiled rotten, who never had to share anything with anybody and didn't like the new child, taking up attention.

Thus little Harry didn't exactly receive a warm welcome, but it wasn't too bad either; he got a cot in the spare bedroom, his nappy was changed when he wailed to much or smelled bad and he was given a bowl of food, a bib and a spoon while Petunia fed Dudley. And he managed to learn how to eat relatively neat quite soon, a bit of negative feedback and maybe an appreciating glance when he did correct, did wonders. And well Petunia was happy with it for it meant less work for her; after two months cleaning the mess he made with every meal was less than feeding him herself, or cleaning the messes Dudley made, even with her feeding him. But that was her little precious.
During the day she sent him to an out of the way corner of the living room, for then she didn't need to listen to his chattering during the day, allowing him a toy or two her Dudley didn't play with anyway. Although Dudley often found Harry's toys more interesting than his own, taking them away from him with a little help from his mother. Leaving little Harry in the corner, silently observing that what happened around him. And with either telly of radio on each day he had plenty things to listen to as well.
When Petunia would go out to gossip with the neighbourhood she took them both to the play park, and well, in public she had to seem charitable, taking care of her orphaned nephew, which did include giving him some attention.
For a while she had wondered if it was good or bad that many of the neighbours had taken a liking to Harry, while being only polite towards her Dudley, but eventually decided that now she had to spend less time on Harry which was always profitable. And they often gave her boxes with their children or grandchildren's old clothing, so he was presentable without her spending a penny and the neighbours felt appreciated with Harry wearing their gifts.
And Harry was totally happy, he loved those outings; people who listened to him and talked back, his aunt who answered him when he asked questions instead of the sharp 'Don't ask questions!' he normally got. Although he didn't understand why only one of the ladies answered when he spoke welsh, the language his mummy loved, and almost all of the townspeople spoke while living with mummy and daddy. Not that he really had seen it as a different language before, it was just another way of saying the same thing. He did learn quite fast the difference between Welsh and English with his aunt punishing him for the use of that unnatural language. For Petunia his Welsh was another bad memory of her sister being better, brilliant and more appreciated. But she couldn't really admit that in public could she? So Harry was allowed to speak to Welsh to Mrs. Lonsey. The elderly Welsh lady had offered to babysit, and often came out of her house when she saw them at the play park, so he settled for that.

Uncle Vernon was something else entirely; he tolerated Harry as long as he didn't notice him, as long as he did nothing out of the ordinary. And unfortunately for Harry he did show that he was a wizard, born to wizards, encouraged as a toddler, even given some little control exercises already though he definitely hadn't recognised them as such, nor had any real control training started for the not yet one-and-a-half year old toddler. Soon Vernon had enough of it, he didn't want his precious social contacts noticing anything off and he fell into the habit of yelling at Harry. He started out quite reasonable, yelling when Harry actually did something, but after a year or so he became more and more unreasonable and then it didn't take long before everything was Harry's fault. And while it became unreasonable it also slowly turned into manhandling and hitting the small child. He managed to break Harry's arm at age three, and you might not know the difference between children's and adult bones, but I do and can tell you that breaking a bone at such a young age is quite a feat. When Harry needed glasses it resulted in him being moved to the cupboard under the stairs; 'to pay for the glasses, the spare bedroom was much too good for such a freak anyway.'
But after the first initial shocks Harry, with a child's resiliency, learned to adapt. He learned to anticipate and move out of the way, out of sight. Anticipating was necessary, but also nothing more than extending and improving his observative skills. He was aware of the things and beings around him; he just took it a step beyond necessary. He expanded this heightened awareness to his whole surroundings. And being the magical being he was he poured magic, unconsciously, into sensing the sings around him, developing a hypersensitive sixth sense which was what some people would call empathy. Not that the Dursleys noticed, they paid only the most essential attention to Harry. But while the empathy did tell him when uncle Vernon was very mad, hitting mad, or when Dudley was trying to sneak up to him, it also was a bit overwhelming. He did not know how to control it, how to dampen it. He tried and did find ways of living with it, but well he had no one to teach him and could only take it so far himself. He did manage to extent his senses; he could feel anyone in the house and some in the neighbouring houses as well, not only short range anymore. So he would know they were angry before entering a room, better to stay out of sight if they were.

Of course Uncle Vernon wasn't the only influence in Harry's life; Dudley was encouraged by Vernon to be nasty to Harry and definitely liked the new game.
Aunt Petunia's role didn't become easier with Vernon's growing distaste of his nephew either. He expected her to show the same resentment, not that she liked Harry, but she did not really hate him either, and in public she had to at least act humane. So she could not withhold too much food, nor did she want him to be dressed in rags like Vernon wanted; with a young child like Harry it wasn't the child that would be looked at. Changing his diapers though was not really necessary unless they smelled, and with Harry was uncomfortable in wet diapers he became potty trained at two. His aunt chose to ignore the comparison to Dudley and see the advantages. She just praised Dudley some more, for everything he did, including his bullying Harry.
Leaving him all day changed as well after a while, he was old enough to go to the toilet and walk around? Then he was old enough to help her by getting a towel, a bottle of cleaning agent, helping her in the super marked by finding the correct tins and bags or empty the little trash bins around the house. And those tasks were explained once, same with the cleaning agent bottles or tins, their colour form and appropriate names, spelled out from the labels to differentiate between some seemingly the same tins and bottles. After which she expected him to remember, and he learned to remember. While uncle Vernon was a brute aunt Petunia was nasty which he didn't like at all, nor did he know how to avoid her punishments. So he was Petunia's errand boy for an hour or so a day, being a silent observer and listener the rest, and of course going over things in his mind to make sure he remembered, actually applying this memorising to what he heard on the radio or telly.

By the time his fourth birthday arrived he had started to read on his own. He started out like any other, spelling out letters to form the words. Dudley's books were quite numerous, nor missed when he took one, sitting out of sight behind the couch. Not that they were the ideal books for starting readers as they were books to be read out to children, but they were better than the magazines he had tried.
And on his 4th birthday he received two letters, unnoticed by the Dursleys, or they would have taken them, made sure he never read them. Those letters were actually small packages, multiple sheets of paper and one of the two included a book as well.
They arrived in the early hours of the morning next to the sleeping Harry were he found them the next morning. He quickly hid them under the cot before leaving the cupboard.
He did his chores as normal, no way around that, nor did he want to draw attention because by now he had realised that they really hated him, that they would never love and praise him like Dudley. His empathy did give him the means to escape his uncle but also forced him to see what they really felt about him, and that is not something a four year old should know.

That afternoon he hid in his cupboard, secretly creating his own magical light, not that he knew it was magic. He just could do it so he used it, just keeping it secret like his reading and not thinking it was anything odd. Nor did he realise that parchment and paper were different. That afternoon he tried to read the letters, but his parents had never considered the possibility of him being able to read at his fourth birthday, they had expected his guardian to read them out. But the love he felt radiating from them did give Harry the reason to really study hard, he spent the next weeks on learning to read. Going over the names he had memorised, on the tins and cleaning agents his aunt had spelled out and named over a year ago. Working on deciphering the letters his parents had sent. Listening to his aunt, who was trying to teach Dudley basic literacy and mathematical skills before starting school, without much success. He loved the book included in the one from his father, the only book he had access to that was mend to be read by children just learning to read. The book in the package from his father was a learning to read book, wizarding style. Next to the normal words many odd ones like Quiddich, muggle and wand were in it as well. And a special Potter one at that, it had a simplified version of the family history in it, next to some other wizarding stories, to practice with. So he memorised it in his attempts to learn to read, and practiced in on any other text he could get his little hands on. All in all, Harry was a very good example of what children can learn if they want to, if they are motivated. All in all it took him three weeks learn to read, a week before he had deciphered the letters, not that the letters were easy material. Which four year old would not have trouble reading words like mischievous? And since he hadn't learned how welsh was written he could not read some parts. They both included a loose piece of parchment with an explanation of what the letters were, when they would come and when they were written. Those said many more were to come, for every birthday and some others as well. He would get birthday letters! The actual letters were heaven to Harry; he could not only feel the love in the paper, it was in the words as well. His parents had loved him, they had not been worthless and to them he was not a freak. His mother had not only asked if he was going to school and looking forward to it, she had also told about herself. She had answered his question without him asking! And the oddest thing, they thought magic was real! His mother even included exercises titled magic control, and they didn't seem to be that difficult.
He put it aside to read later though, now he wanted to find out what the welsh words were. He found himself a piece of paper and a pencil, diligently copying the unfamiliar words. The lines and shapes were a bit off, but this was the best he could do, for now. He would practice later, now he wanted to go to Mrs. Lonsey, the Welsh neighbour.
He did not manage to get out of the house that day though. Aunt Petunia saw him and made him do some chores before dinner, and after he was sent back to his cupboard. So he practiced on forming the letters before going to sleep and tried again next day.

The letters did wonders to little Harry, he was wanted, his parents had loved him and now the neighbours did. The Dursleys didn't matter anymore, their praise nor hatred. And this made him so much more self-conscious. He practiced the exercises his mom recommended, knew the book by head and practiced this letters and the mathematical skills his aunt hadn't managed to explain to Dudley, with one goal in mind, making his parents proud of him. Not that he would see them, not yet anyway. When he died he would, but now he could dream about it and that was enough. Harry was happy for the first in a long time. The exercises were mostly focused on mental control, thus they didn't only help with accidental magic or magic control; they also gave him a bit more control over his empathy. And with that control he understood how he could gain complete control. How to shut it down, or keep it at an acceptable level.

That September Harry and Dudley started at the local school, changing the daily routine for all but Vernon. Harry now had to do some chores in the morning, setting the table, toasting bread, making the beds, and getting more food. Since he now had to bring a packed lunch to school and eat in public his aunt didn't dare to give him nothing, she actually packed three slices of bread since Dudley got four, and sometimes replacing a slice of bread with a brown banana or bruised apple. Oh, the bread was old, wholemeal and leftover but it was a lot of food, and Harry didn't need three slices of bread for lunch, so he ate one each morning, to add to the crumbles he got then. With what he would get for dinner, usually only some vegetables, that made enough food for the little boy, not much but they didn't underfeed him either. Harry was very happy to be able to tune down his empathy now, with so many people he would not have been able to function before. And Harry loved school, not Dudley and his gang of course. They only tried to get him in trouble, but the learning! There he excelled, not that that is unexpected. And he got to play games, play with other children, make things, draw and lots of other things Petunia hadn't allowed Harry to do.
The school had a little library too, with many, many books. Loads more than the bookshelf in Dudley's room. So almost every recess and lunch break he would sneak in, making sure he wasn't seen by Dudley, and read through the break. And well, the library isn't exactly a place were Dudley wanted to be seen; he actually didn't want to go in there. So Harry spent his time doing what he wanted while also protecting himself from an attack by Dudley. Because the recesses he did spent with the other children often resulted in Dudley ganging up on him, scaring the other children away and get them both in trouble. And that Harry would hear it later at home; Vernon would yell and lash out.

On his first school trip aunt Petunia refused to sign his permission slip and taunted him by ripping it to pieces in front of his eyes just after signing Dudley's. But when the teacher asked her later if Harry's slip might have been misplaced somewhere since she hadn't received it, Petunia didn't dare to say it was anything else. So Harry did get permission and after that Petunia signed them all, not actually looking at them. She didn't even notice when she signed the one allowing him to check out library books. Now he could read books he wanted to read in his cupboard as well, instead of Dudley's books, or Petunia's magazines. He would carefully hide the book he took home, paying extra attention to Dudley and his gang when walking from and to school with those books.
He often talked with many of the neighbours on his way, some would make sure to be out at his usual time, others he spoke only when they happened to pass him on his way. Mrs. Lonsey was one of the ones who made sure to be out if the weather allowed and sometimes invited him in. They would talk, and since his question about the written Welsh in the letter she had been teaching him to write and read it, much to his delight.
So in combination with the chores he was supposed to do in the time around dinner his days were quite filled, leaving some time after dinner and sometimes a bit before to read in his cupboard.

His report card wasn't received well though; his aunt was making sharp comments while 'consoling' poor Dudders. Vernon meanwhile was yelling at Harry; how dare he to do better than Dudley, he had been cheating, just like his good for nothing parents, useless freak. He lashed out a few times and after that locking him in for the weekend. Harry actually liked that since he had smuggled in quite a thick new book to read and this way no one would interrupt him. And it was not like his uncle had said the truth, his parents hadn't been useless so he was allowed to do well in school, they would be proud of his achievements. Yes, the letters made all the difference in the world.

So he continued the way he did before and the Dursleys could do nothing more than lock him up and hit him sometimes, although Vernon almost never reached Harry when he tried that. Actually there had maybe been three occasions that he did hit his mark since Harry had gotten the hang of his emphatic feelings, quite remarkable for a 4 year old against his adult uncle isn't it?
The scene of the first term was repeated the second, this time with one hit out of three and being locked up for a week, when he wasn't in school. And it happened again with the final term. This time he got locked up a bit longer though, without any schoolbooks since the school had closed for the summer. But he had hidden two magazines and a fairy tale book before, which he spent reading the next two weeks. He did get a bit hungry, but the exercises his mother had written down had given him enough control by now that he managed to open the lock every night to sneak some bread and a pitcher of water. He even replaced his magazines once.
After being left out again he had to help with many of the chores, 'to make up for the wasted time.' And he learned to do some new chores, including cooking breakfast, doing the laundry, cleaning the bathroom and weeding the garden. It took a few days of working almost all day before he was allowed to do something else, and by then is was only a couple of day's till his 5th birthday. For the first time he counted the days 'till his birthday, waiting exited for his letters.

When they finally did arrive it was quite difficult to finish his chores, but he managed without alarming Petunia. He took off to his cupboard as soon as possible.
The explanatory sheet was almost the same, but this year his mother's letter was written in a style that a child who was just learning to read, could read it himself. She told that she could read at five and hoped that he was taught as well, and not only the pranks and jokes his father and friends preferred. It didn't say really much, but it said all he wanted to know; he was loved and she would be proud at his report cards. His father's letter was funny, proposed a couple of pranks, which Harry didn't dare to do to the Dursleys, and included another family heirloom. This year it was an amulet with the Potter crest, a lion like creature with spread wings holding a sword. It was a beautiful piece of gold with a single ruby set in the eye of the creature. A griffin if he had to believe the book he had received last year. A protective amulet that proclaimed him the Potter heir, but Harry didn't know that. He did try it on, with the intention of taking it off and hiding it from the Dursleys. But when he did the clasp disappeared, leaving him no other option than hiding it under his clothes. The Dursleys didn't notice the amulet though, oddly enough, actually no one did. What Harry didn't know was that no muggle would see it, and Harry was the only wizard around. Mrs. Figg from Wisteria Walk would have been able to, as a squib, but she had passed away last spring.

But some big changes were about to occur. His aunt and uncle had already known for a while that Vernon would be transferred to the Netherlands, he would be representing his English company in a sister company there, quite a step up actually. He had one year there, after both England and the Dutch company would evaluate him, which could result in moving back, staying there for a couple of more years of moving to another country, another company somewhere else. Well those terms could be accepted could they not? Especially since it came with a nice pay raise and a leap up the social ladder.
Mr. Dursley had been offered some courses in Dutch by Grunnings, the company he worked with, with an assurance that the Dutch people spoke excellent English. So Vernon Dursley went, picked up some of it but well, you can't say he had a linguistic talent. And Petunia decided that taking courses here in Britain was not worth the trouble, she would pick it up along the way, nor would she need to learn it all if they might come back after a year. Learning Dutch was not something high on her to do list. She spoke English and a bit French, that should be enough.
Now many plans had to be made, the house had to be sold, the boys singed up for the international school, and they had to put up with an interview and visit from a school nurse! The horror! They actually had thought about sending Harry to another school, no problem with that nurse and a lot cheaper. But that would raise too many questions so they had eventually decided to do it this way. But the boys had yet to be told. So Petunia sat down with Dudley while Vernon shouted at Harry; 'We'll be moving in the Christmas holiday, to the Netherlands and don't you dare to make trouble. You'll help Petunia pack our stuff, be glad that we let you go to the international school, you freak!'
So Harry helped Petunia pack all that they would take, during the next months, learning to appreciate the systematic way of working and the list she kept with which box held what. Although maybe the appreciation didn't come 'till the unpacking in the new house.

He was send up to the attic many times, while before he was never allowed. 'Get down that box!' or 'there are some chests there, see what is in them!' One of those days he found a chest with old children's books, al with the name Lily Evans in it! They actually looked used, more so than any of Dudley's books. But his mother loved reading, just like him, now he had real proof! And well, his aunt had said to see what was in it, not? So he went through it and took out some; the children's dictionary and encyclopaedia, leaving the storybooks. He'd never be able to hide them all. Those three would already be difficult and the school had many storybooks, but he had never seen the dictionary or encyclopaedia. He sneaked down to his cupboard, hid the books with the letters from his parents and dutifully told his aunt that it contained children's books. Those books ended up on the give away or throw out pile, in the spare bedroom. Harry did manage to sneak back once, to grab a couple of the story books.

When the Christmas hols neared Uncle Vernon became more careful, making sure not to hit him, aunt Petunia feeding him a bit more than normal. They definitely didn't want to be caught abusing their nephew. For once no one said anything about his report card and the recommendation the school had written for the international school in the Netherlands. They sold the car, the last boxes were packed and shipped and they were taken to the ferry by Aunt Marge. Ready to start a new adventure.