Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Harry Potter universe. It is the property of Joanne Rowling. The only things that belong to me, are the original characters and stories that I have written.

It had been nearly a month since the first time he had woken up in the Dursley's house on Privet Drive. Things had lulled into a sense of normalcy, where Vernon went to work every day, and Petunia stayed at home to care for him and Dudley. He and Dudley had been placed in the same room, the room across from the elder Dursley's, and were sleeping in cribs next to each other.

Petunia and Vernon had been very nice to him so far, which was a far cry from the books and movies he had consumed in his previous life. Petunia tucked him and Dudley in every night, told stories and hummed them songs. Vernon on the other hand had a rough exterior, but didn't seem to have a mean bone in his entire body.

He understood how Dudley could have become the spoiled brat that he was in the Harry Potter books and movies. With doting parents like these, and their room held a million different toys, which was completely ridiculous considering they were only a year and a bit old. But if Oliver had anything to say about it, Dudley would grow up to be a decent human being.

While Dudley still seemed a bit confused about his presence, he hadn't done anything towards him more than look at him weirdly. Which, considering that he was one, was probably all he could do. However, for every day that passed, he seemed to accept his presence more. Also, considering Petunia were calling them brothers, not cousins. It probably wouldn't be long before Dudley called him brother as well. Considering his plan to turn Dudley into a decent human being – it was great.

The elder Dursleys had taken him to the doctor yesterday. From what they could see, he was perfectly healthy. Apparently he didn't have the scar, which was completely unexpected. He could only take that to mean that he wasn't a Horcrux. Even more importantly – hopefully there wouldn't be all those ridiculous stories about, 'the-boy-who-lived'. He couldn't put into words how much he disliked the idea of being a celebrity. The ways that the privacy of Harry Potter from his universe had been violated, he could do without.

He was really looking forward to attending Hogwarts, he could learn magic for Merlin's sake. What boy and girl that read Harry Potter hadn't wished for a letter on their eleventh birthday, and been ever so disappointed when none came. On the subject of magic, he could feel it as clear as day inside of him, or at least what he suspected was his magic.

It was completely and utterly indescribable. Circling around inside of him, it felt like the sun on a perfect summer's day – like a mother's loving embrace – or that feeling you feel deep inside of you when you're holding an excited puppy in your arms. He had no idea if other magicals felt it like he did. His theory at the moment was that they didn't. Because if they did, he couldn't envision anyone ever becoming a dark witch or wizard, surely murder and torture would befoul one's magic, hence ruining the wondrous feeling inside of them. The other part of his theory was that since he had lived without magic in his body, now that he had it, it stood out like a sore thumb.

Even though he could feel the magic inside of him, he had no idea how to bring it forth. Since he knew that wandless magic was, according to his memories, entirely possible. He'd used his index finger as a wand and chanted the words. All the common spells he remembered from his previous incarnation he'd tried. Nothing at all had happened, not even a simple Lumos had produced anything. From what he remembered, that was the most basic spell of this entire universe. He truly was at a loss, because this was completely uncharted territory. Nothing in his memories gave even as much as a hint.

Still, due to the wondrous feeling of his magic. He had taken to submerging himself within it every night in his crib, and as many times as possible during the day. The feeling was – forgive the pun – magical.

It wasn't until after his second birthday, he saw any progress at all with his magic. It was in the middle of August, and almost a year had passed since he woke up in the infant body of Harry Potter. He had tried everything he could think of considering magic, and had come to the conclusion that he was missing something. Therefore, he put the brakes on his magical training until he went to Hogwarts. The only magical thing he was doing these days, was, as always, submerging himself into the wondrous feeling of his magic.

But this day, a completely ordinary Wednesday, was about to become very different. Petunia had, after lunch, put him and Dudley down for a midday nap. Dudley had protested it quite vocally, whereas Harry truly loved his naps. Since during them, he could retreat into the feeling of his magic, completely undisturbed. After Petunia had left them in their room, Dudley continued fussing, he wanted one of his plushies that Petunia had put away. When his fussing brought no attention to him, the fussing turned into wailing.

Harry, naturally, found this very annoying, and tried several times to quiet Dudley. But Dudley would not calm, and was keeping him from his nap. So for the first time in his new life. Harry became truly irritated, and he wished with all of his being that Dudley would get his toy. Suddenly he could feel his magic stirring and a small amount of it left the ocean inside of him. From out of somewhere, Dudley's toy flew straight into Harry's hands.

Well, this is new.

After giving the toy to Dudley, so he would calm down. Harry retreated into himself, he thought deeply about what just happened. What was different this time, from all the other times he had tried. He had imagined the toy, and he had truly wanted it. Some sort of combination – of willpower, imagination, and belief. Could it be so simple. Or was it that he had finally grown enough to perform magic.

Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, the answer could wait, because it was more important to replicate the magic. Now that he knew how it was supposed to feel, he was sure it would be much easier moving forward. It hadn't been easy, but by the time Petunia came to wake them from their nap. He had managed to make his blanket levitate. His focus was so intense, that he missed when Petunia entered the room.

Her soft gasp disturbed his concentration, the blanket wavered and fell back on top of him. Looking over towards the door, he saw Petunia standing there with her hand raised across her mouth.

Oops, I have to salvage this somehow.

He spoke with a low voice, so as to not disturb Dudley, who was still asleep. "Mama, mama, look what I can do." Pointing his arm to Dudley, he continued. "Dudley wanted snuggly, so I made it come." He also made sure to smile his brightest smile.

He could see, clearly, that his attitude had a calming effect on Petunia. Her face, that had reflected deep shock, now was all smiles. Her eyes crinkled as she bent over his bed and booped him on his nose.

"That was kind of you, Harry, but you have to be very careful, and promise me to never hurt anyone with your abilities." Petunia whispered to him. "Promise me." The last one was solemn.

He reached his arms up, to show that he wished for her to hold him, and when he was tightly held in her arms. He whispered back. "Promise."

Where Petunia had been happy and placating when he showed his ability. Vernon was genuinely interested, and had asked a multitude of questions. He'd asked Harry to describe how it felt, what he could do, and how long he could do it. Harry had answered to the best of his ability, then Vernon had come up with several ideas for him to try. A severe deviation from his memories, where the Dursleys abhorred anything abnormal. They also impressed upon him the importance of not showing it outside the house.

Contrary to the elder Dursleys, Dudley had little interest in his magic. Except for the games that they now could play, and the fact that Harry could bring toys and sweets anytime and anywhere -he didn't seem to care one bit. Harry had been afraid that Dudley would be jealous, that could have ended in disaster.

He'd been afraid when Petunia had discovered him the other day when he first managed to use his magic. He thought she might react like she did in the memories he had of her. However, it was probably time to stop relying on those. Because the people he knew were not at all the same, and relying on faulty information might get him killed in the world he now lived.

Things had turned out great, he was able to freely experiment with his magic, and he'd taken to levitating everything and anything. So far he'd not managed to re-create any other magical effect. However, he and Vernon had together written a list of things to try.

Yesterday, he had tried to levitate his utensils to feed him at dinner. It had ended with his dinner in his lap and the incredulous laughter of his family. Vernon had fallen out of his chair because he was laughing so hard. Petunia couldn't stop chuckling while she was cleaning him up, then she had booped him on the nose, and forbidden him from using magic at the dining table. His ensuing pout had only made them laugh harder.

Today he'd been experimenting with making magical lights, since it was supposed to be the simplest of spells, it seemed like a great place to start. The last few hours he had spent sitting on the sofa in the living room, in between Vernon and Dudley, while they were watching TV. His experimenting had been slow, due to the fact that he wanted to perfectly envision what he wanted before putting it into practice.

He did not want a repeat of last night.

Focusing his imagination on the image he had in mind. A small round transparent ball filled with luminescence. Slowly reinforcing the image over and over again, he diverted the ocean of magic inside of him out into his closed hands. He willed his magic to take form. Between his fingers light spewed forth, and opening his hands, out rolled a ball that was neither cold nor hot. It shone with a majestic, bright light.

Vernon and Dudley's focus instantly shifted from the telly to him. "Well, isn't that a nifty little thing you've managed to create there." Vernon said.

Dudley's reaction, however, was more direct. He looked intently at the ball, then at Harry, then at the ball again. In an instant, Dudley snagged the ball of light out of Harry's hands, climbed down from the couch, and disappeared out into the hallway. Harry sat there, looking in the direction Dudley had vanished.

"What just happened?" Harry asked out loud.

Vernon just chuckled and turned his head back to the TV.

After his failed experiment with the Lumos spell. He had to go back to the drawing board, because yes, he had produced light. But not the light of the Lumos charm, that hung off the end of your wand, nor the light of a Lumos Maxima. Somehow the light he had produced had stayed in the ball, and Dudley had been able to carry it off, without it going out for several hours. What Harry wanted, was just to be able to light his fingertip.

It was almost Christmas now, and he was no closer to turning his fingers into a flashlight. He didn't understand why it wouldn't work. He imagined what he wanted – a ball of light on his fingertip. Technically, that was what he got. But he didn't want it like that. They tended to last a couple of hours, so he had filled a box with them. Harry had found out that: by increasing the amount of magic he put into them, he could either make the light stronger, or make them last longer.

Petunia had asked earlier that day if he could create his balls of light in different colours – she wanted to use them as Christmas decorations. So he had spent the afternoon creating long-lasting lights of all colours Petunia wanted. She had thanked him with a boop on the nose and a few pieces of candy, Harry didn't complain.

This would be the second Christmas he spent with the Dursleys. Unlike last Christmas, and their birthdays, there wasn't a small mountain of presents under the Christmas tree. It would seem that Petunia had finally got through to her husband that there was such a thing as too many gifts. That is not to say that there were few presents, there was still a good amount for each of them, including Petunia.

Harry had been warned that Vernon's sister Marge would be visiting this Christmas. They had told him that he couldn't use his magic while she was visiting, or at least not in front of her. He didn't really understand why, since she was family. But he agreed to do as they said. Considering how nice Vernon was, compared to his counterpart in Harry's memories. Marge was probably going to be quite the pleasant surprise. He was looking forward to Christmas.

Boy had he been wrong, Christmas had been hell on earth. Marge truly was as horrible in real life as in his memories. Her visit had started out perfectly fine, she had been very loving towards everyone except for him. Which wasn't weird considering he wasn't really related to her. So he had accepted the standoffish woman without problem, thinking that she would warm up to him later.

The first snag had come a few hours later, when she'd found him curled up on the sofa with her dog, both napping peacefully. She had loudly berated him for allowing her precious Ripper up on the furniture. When Petunia had assured her that it was no issue at all, Marge had turned her shrill voice upon both of them. It had taken Vernon several minutes to calm her down. In a hushed whisper, he had then apologized to both Petunia and Harry for his sister's behaviour.

The rest of the day had not been any better.

During dinner, she had consumed an ungodly amount of brandy, so when the time for dessert came, she was well and truly sloshed. She had scared Dudley by trying to lift him the wrong way and hug him too hard. He had scurried away into his father's lap, so she had tried to lure him out with early Christmas presents. Dudley however refused to leave his father's embrace.

Harry, felt really uncomfortable, so he walked over to where Petunia sat in her comfortable armchair. He wanted to nap in her lap, so he reached his arms up towards her. However, her focus was upon what was happening between Marge and Dudley.

So he'd poked her leg and said. "Mama up."

That had apparently been the wrong thing to say. Because as soon as he said it, Marge's beady little eyes had instantly zeroed in on him. As Petunia was placing him in her lap. Marge pointed her knobbly finger at Harry and snarled out. "She's not your mother, boy!"

Petunia gasped and instantly placed her hands over his ears. Harry could also see, from his vantage point, Vernon turning a peculiar shade of puce. Vernon was actually becoming angry, that surprised him, considering he'd never even heard the man raise his voice.

Then the shouting began, and continued for what felt like hours. Marge was standing and gesticulating everywhere with her thick arms, whereas both Vernon and Petunia were seated with their hands covering his and Dudley's ears. He heard several disgusting remarks about himself, his parents, and Petunia. Only Vernon and Dudley seemed safe from her tirade. She just went on and on and on. Dudley looked to be on the verge of crying. So, with a twitch of his finger, Harry sneakily levitated her overflowing glass of brandy behind her, and dumped it all down her neck.

Everyone froze, and before all hell let loose, he quickly levitated Marge's glass down to the floor behind her back. Then Dudley started laughing, with Vernon and Petunia following not far behind. Marge's face went through numerous interesting colours, before settling on a deep purple. With an inarticulate shriek of rage, Marge stormed out into the hallway. Where they heard her angrily dialling the phone. A few moments later, she was shouting at someone on the other end.

When her call was finished, she slammed the phone down, thundered up the stairs. Where they heard her slam open the door to her room. A few seconds later, she was on her way down again, her briefcase striking the stairs behind her. She stopped at the entrance to the living room, screamed at Vernon, "See if I ever come back here again if this is how you treat family." A moment later, she had slammed the front door shut behind her.

The house was deathly silent after she had left. That was, until Dudley started giggling, which set them all off.

What a horrible woman.

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