Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they led perfectly normal lives, thank you very much. They had a perfectly normal son whose manners are impeccable and very polite (read as: abominable). Things just got exciting – but to the Dursleys, worse – when their nephew turned up at their doorstep on October 31st, and from there on, they had witnessed strange things happening around them.
Of course, Vernon and Petunia Dursley weren't at all amused by these new developments in their lives and tried their hardest to avoid and even prevent this from happening but to no avail. But the last few weeks had been most peculiar, in Petunia's opinion. Her nephew had begun acting so strangely, and almost quiet at times, she'd think she was living with a ghost, not with a living person. The only trace of him was that the chores were done.
Vernon was particularly happy with this development, saying the boy had finally learned a lesson of keeping his head down and knowing his place in the household: the cupboard under the stairs. Petunia thought otherwise. She was unnerved at how quiet the boy had become when she could usually hear a comment slip or a silent grumble.
Petunia could see the similarities the boy had with his mother. Lily may have sported a ferocious temper, but when the woman was feeling particularly vindictive, she displayed the same behavior his nephew had been showing.
She was scared. She knew from the very first accident when the boy had turned his teacher's hair blue that he would grow up like Lily, sprouting random freakish performance. She knew it when the boy refused to wear Diddykins' sweater, and the sweater shrunk to the point a toddler couldn't even wear it or when she tried to cut his hair and it grew back almost immediately.
No. Something was wrong, Petunia was sure of it, but she couldn't know when it would strike. She sighed as she filed the plates back to the rack, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Harry have had the marvelous of times when he got back – well, not really, since he's with the Dursleys. However, it occurred to Harry that he could make them pay back in the slightest of ways. Even though he held no resentment from their treatment, no matter how appalling their behavior were, one couldn't blame Harry for playing with his relatives for a little bit.
Since he had brought his habits back in time – who knew that would work, really – he's been waking up earlier than his aunt and uncle to cook for breakfast. He also munched his share before going back to the cupboard to think about a couple of things namely: how to bypass Dumbledore and Snape's legilimency, what he ought to do about Voldemort, and how he could make the Dursleys treat him better during his stay here for the next seven years.
He wasn't too happy regarding that, and certainly he's not asking validation or approval from the Dursleys, but he understood the gravity of his situation and the charm casted to protect Harry until he's of age. The first dilemma was difficult, knowing Dumbledore and Snape were exceptional legilimens. Even if Harry knew the basics of Occlumency, it would be hard to push them out of his mind.
The second one he tabled to think for later since no plans survive first contact. Thus, he could just make a brief outline of what appropriate actions and preventions he can do but not so detailed so that he can be flexible and change his strategy as it happens.
The third dilemma was one he put on action the moment he arrived back in past: last few weeks. It was Dudley Dursley's birthday when he arrived and he changed none of that except he didn't set free the snake in the zoo because he steered clear of Dudley and Piers Polkiss' way, though he talked apologized to the snake.
Since then, Harry had been keeping his head low to which his Uncle Vernon approved of—as if Harry needed it—and caused Aunt Petunia to look at him with a strange look. Harry felt it's not just because he was acting peculiar but there's some emotion beneath the surface that Harry saw the last time she saw Aunt Petunia, just before the Battle of Seven Potters, that he could not figure out.
No matter, Harry was determined to push through with his plan – the Dursleys would treat him better than they had been all his life. They were currently at the sitting room, Uncle Vernon was sitting on the couch together with his equally large son, Dudley, watching the telly. His Aunt Petunia was perched on the adjacent chair, checking her dreadfully polished nails.
Harry slipped by unnoticed and when he was close enough, spoke, "Aunt Petunia."
The Dursleys were startled out of their activities as Dudley slipped from his seat, Uncle Vernon dropped the remote, and Aunt Petunia dropping the nail file she was holding. It took great restraint from Harry to contain his laughter that was bubbling up in his chest.
Vernon loudly complained, "Boy! Don't you give us heart attacks! And what business have you to ask your aunt a question?"
Harry ignored the man, and it was clear that he wasn't going to answer. Uncle Vernon's face was close to resembling a tomato and was about to explode before Petunia interjected.
"What is it?" she asked briskly after composing herself. She was now glaring at Harry venomously.
Biting his lip to keep down the amusement, he started, "Do you know a beautiful woman who has dark, red hair that fell to her shoulders and almond-shaped, bright green eyes like mine?"
Peering at his aunt curiously, the glare was replaced by an expression of genuine shock. This display by Petunia didn't miss Dudley as he was staring at his mother. Uncle Vernon didn't seem phased but his lips had thinned.
Before anyone of them can insert a word, Harry continued, "You see, she's been in my dreams lately complaining about you, saying, if our roles were reversed and I were in Tuney's shoes, I would have treated her son equally and as humane as possible."
Harry took pleasure as her aunt's face turned pale.
"She said to me that I should bring you some choice words and I should relay this to you, 'Petunia Evans, if you continue to treat him as badly as you have all these years, I swear, even the afterlife can't stop me from banging on your door and berate you, Vernon, and a good reprimanding to your son. Mark my words, Tuney, I will find a way to come back to life and you know how capable I am and how determined I can be. Don't ever try to stamp magic out of my son or abuse him, again. And if worse comes to worse, I'll haunt and torment you in your dreams!'"
Harry would've cracked up at Aunt Petunia's face which is now whiter than sheet as if drained with blood if it weren't for the swelling anger he was feeling, as if Lily Potter took control of his body and really spoke those words. His aunt's eyes were wide in fear, and she seemed to be shaken.
Harry immediately took control of his emotions just as Uncle Vernon found his voice, shaking with anger.
"Now, listen here, boy! You've no right saying those words to us, threatening the family that gave you shelter and to Pet—"
Petunia cut him off sharply, "Vernon!"
Confused, Uncle Vernon's mouth hung open as he turned to Petunia, the woman was shaking his head at him.
"Aunt Petunia, who is she?"
Dudley perked up, "Yeah, Mum, what's Harry talking about!"
Petunia merely shook her head but Dudley continued to pester her, leading for both him and Harry to get kicked out of the room. Harry didn't even bother fighting Dudley for the keyhole and just stuck his ear to the door, hoping for any sound that his ears might hear.
"You don't believe that rubbish, do you, Petunia?" asked Uncle Vernon wildly.
In a shrill voice, Aunt Petunia replied, "Vernon… It makes sense! Him being quiet, these recent new developments from him! You know what Lily is! I'm pretty sure what's impossible for us is possible to them!"
"They can't rise from the dead, can they? Or else, they would have come to this house to take that runt back!" Uncle Vernon said in a hushed whisper, unsure and a little bit shaken.
Aunt Petunia hissed, her voice really scared, "I'm not taking any chances, Vernon! I overheard her and that awful boy talk about ghosts existing and I don't want one haunting our house!"
Harry could feel the low sounds of Uncle Vernon's pacing as he muttered, "Even in death, those lot are still haunting us!"
Aunt Petunia merely whimpered. Harry was satisfied that they were spooked and shaken, he covered his mouth with the back of his hand, hiding his laughter through a cough. By tomorrow, he would be moved to a new room and the Dursleys would stop giving him hand-me-downs, buy him a set of clothes, and lessen his chores.
He felt slightly guilty scaring his aunt but he considered it payback for all the hard times they forced to him. Dudley, looking at him with a strange look, turned to Harry's retreating back to the cupboard, "What did you do?"
"What I had to."
Harry's prediction had come to pass. Uncle Vernon approached him early morning and with great effort to be nice, made him move out of the cupboard and into Dudley's second bedroom. He was shocked that they even managed to get Dudley's junk out and repaired the room to make it more habitable; it didn't turn out well when Dudley discovered – he threw a tantrum.
The next morning, Aunt Petunia dropped few sets of clothes at the bed.
"What are those?" asked Harry cheekily.
"Can't you see? A set of clothes," replied Aunt Petunia coolly, "I suppose with your eyesight and those glasses—"
Aunt Petunia froze and Harry had an inkling why. It had been three years since the glasses were changed, and true to her word of not taking any chances, Aunt Petunia booked an appointment with an optometrist to change Harry's glasses. He still chose a round-rimmed glasses and Aunt Petunia paid the expenses without much fuss, although Harry suspected the woman was grumbling inside her head.
Choosing to ignore that, Harry was now only counting the days before his letter arrives. Aside from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were trying their hardest not to twitch while being nice to him and Dudley throwing a temper tantrum claiming her mom and dad favored Harry instead of him was quite funny.
The parents were growing exasperated and attempting to help them, Harry said, "It's clear that you're the favorite, Dudley."
The Dursleys quietened down as their heads comically turned to him. Harry wasn't fazed, seems like being gawked at by people – and the media – helped him not flinching. He also knew that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were nervous that Harry would count all the times they unfairly favored their son over him – which is all the time.
"They call you Ickle Diddykins, while I'm rarely called by my name. Often, they would just call me 'boy' which is a bit redundant, to be honest," quipped Harry and while this seemed to placate Dudley, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon exchanged a look.
Chuckling to himself, Harry thought that all in all, life in Privet Drive was perfectly normal.