Hey everyone,
There will probably be some extra bits of text in this chapter. However, I decided that, at least for the sake of this story, I won't add to much of text to any bits of PS/SS.
I did some thinking and it just makes more sense to make Harry start questioning Dumbledore after he makes his canon realization at the end of the book.
So apologies, but most of the next 15 CR chapters will be just that; CR. I definitely plan to add bits of text to start building the bond Harry has with his friends
And maybe some other stuff,

Venquine1990

Chapter 30
Magic Is Coming

26th of June 1995
Great Hall, Hogwarts
Sirius' POV

The last few chapters made me very much regret giving baby Harry to Hagrid all those years ago. Yet, thankfully, James and Lily seem to blame Dumbledore for this more than me.

And because, in the end, it was Dumbledore's decision to send Hagrid – and probably rely on the big man's loyalty to him to get what he wants – this all helps me ease my sense of guilt.

At the same time I can't help myself and ask Filius for the book. The man levitates it over to me and just the title of the next chapter brings a smile to my face.

Chapter Three
The Letters From No One

The escape … longest-ever punishment.

It was also one of the few times when Uncle Vernon actually got physical as, apparently, the man had gone to bed furious with Harry and he had decided to unleash this upon him the next morning.

All because Harry had still been preparing the bacon by the time Vernon to come down for breakfast. And while Harry had sometimes caught himself wondering if the man had a real brain in his head, Vernon had proven this to be true the few times he got physical.

And this time was no different as, like previous occurrences, the man made sure to deal the most damage to Harry's legs. And because Petunia never bothered getting Harry any shorts, his long trousers hid the large amount of bruises all over Harry's legs.

I should've known and expected that, while this chapter will probably describe Harry getting his first Hogwarts letter, that trouble with the Muggles would also be mentioned.

Silently I wonder to myself why I was expecting the chapter to start with anything other than the aftermath of the previous chapter.

At the same time, my troubled mind almost reminds me of some of the punishments I got from my own mother for disappointing her or disgracing the Noble Name of the House of Black.

Yet before I can start to remember some of the harsher punishments, James turns to the Head Table, stands up and asks:

"Poppy, from what Lily and I have been able to see from the Viewing Orbs, you've only checked and healed my boy of the injuries you were told him to have.

Would you mind giving him a Full Physical at some point? I'd like to see if my son might have some long-lasting effects from the other injuries he sustained.

Not to mention that he kept his mouth shut about an injury he sustained back in his second year. And yeah, I agree with his reasoning, but – still."

I notice a lot of students – especially a lot of Harry's own peers – turning to look at my godson. And their looks make it clear that they're expecting Harry to feel embarrassed.

Yet the smile of grateful care on my boy's face clearly proves them wrong. And while I read on, I wonder why these people would even expect this of an orphan.

By the … her crutches.

"How has that kid not been arrested yet?"

I really can't help but agree with young Susan on this. And Harry makes us both feel much relieved as he calmly states:

"I expect that to happen as soon as he turns 18, becomes an adult in the eyes of the Muggles, and moves out of his family home and Little Whinging.

Those – people obviously believe that, because they protect each other, they can get away with whatever they want.

Yet while they often created excuses to explain why some family suddenly no longer lived in a house or why someone had suddenly stopped being part of the family, I noticed after a while that this always happened – after said person or people went on holiday outsideof the neighborhood.

It's one of the few things I agree with those people on when they say I pity the poor soul who thinks they can have a better life outside of our neighborhood and community.

Though obviously, I don't agree for the same reasons as the ones often making this claim."

I don't know if it's because he now finally feels free to share his thoughts or because he knows it pisses off Dumbledore, but my godson is grinning broadly as he derives the people he grew up with and gives his explanation.

And the sight of many of those around him agreeing with him must also be causing the same results – Harry's pleasure and Dumbledore's annoyance growing.

And with a smile on my own face I read on.

Thankfully, by this time, Harry's injuries had also healed.

Harry was … the leader.

"How does that even make sense?"

I want to say that it doesn't and that it's just their kind of logic, but Susan interrupts me.

"Unfortunately, my aunt has told me enough stories – while omitting details that are considered sensitive information to the cases – that proves that this is actually how a lot of gangs are formed.

One of her Aurors even keeps a record of how many gangs that are like this are arrested on a monthly basis. According to my aunt, that number has never gone under 50.

Yeah, I wish I was joking. "

"How could there be so many?" Someone shouts and Susan answers: "Most gangs only commit minor crimes.

Destroying a trash can in a park.

Stealing something small from the apothecary.

Stuff like that.

Because of that, they only receive sentences of either payment or a few days in a holding cell. Even the worst of them are hardly ever sent to Azkaban.

So yeah, while the number has never gone under 50 and while that might sound like a crazy high number, it's usually the same gangs.

I don't know how many or what they're called. My Aunt's not allowed to tell me, unless I start working for her. But I have heard her wondering when these people will learn or wizen up. She sometimes feels like she's wasting her forces on them."

A lot of those around me look like they either agree or empathize with the woman. And while the memory of the woman letting me rot in Azkaban still feels like a stab in the back, I ignore this to focus on the book in my hands.

The rest … he'd said.

Yet after a few days of waiting, Harry realized that Dudley had failed to get that he had been insulted and that he had just moved on.

It made Harry wonder if he could pull similar stunts on Dudley's friends. Yet for the time being, Harry felt it might be better to just focus on what life might be like without the Dursleys breathing down his neck for all his "faults".

"Did you ever try?" Seamus asks and laughs when Harry answers: "No, I had too much fun with faking magic with Dudley in the following summer."

One day … several years.

Yet when the woman took a bite herself, the truth came out. And Harry had to work hard to keep himself from either staring or laughing as she muttered that she shouldn't have taken the cake out as soon as she heard that Harry would be over.

Which had been two hours before Harry got to eat his slice. Harry genuinely enjoyed the rest of his slice before telling her of some of the meals he had been learning to make for the Dursleys.

At first Mrs. Figg had, strangely, looked a little trouble, but they had still had a pleasant afternoon. And Harry got to enjoy his own creations more than he ever had in years.

"And of course, Arabella knew that kids at the age of five shouldn't be allowed near the stove. So she did the right thing and reported this to Dumbledore, like she had been doing for years.

Just a shame that she reported it all to the wrong person."

At this Lord Hades bursts out laughing. And with that, he interrupts and shocks Dumbledore, who obviously wanted to object to the statement.

And when the god asks my best friend – and no longer secret love – if he's always this witty, James proves himself as he grins and quips back: "I am my mother's son, Lord Hades. And trust me, she's not known as the Best Debater Hogwarts has seen in 200 years without reason."

The God vocally makes a memo to himself to do so once he's back down in the Underworld. And while the sight of this is a little humorous, I read on.

That evening … later life.

"How is that even legal?"

Susan seems to write this down and I realize that she's probably going to report a lot to her aunt by the end of this reading.

And while I wonder what Amelia might be able to do about something that so obviously only affects the Muggle world, I do commend the young girl for her desire to help others and better the world.

"Don't worry, that writing is just more of the Little Whinging propaganda. In truth, this is just another case like what I mentioned earlier.

Within the community, this behavior is acceptable. But while they rarely talked about it, I did sometimes hear about members of the community being arrested on false allegations."

And while Susan and quite a few others feel glad that this crazy behavior is just contained to one community, I can't help myself.

"Can't the same be said for our own magical community, seeing as how much our numbers have shrunk in the last century?"

And while I wonder if this might be another, indirect reason for the books to exist, I continue reading the chapter that we're on.

As he … to laugh.

"Was it that bad?"

One of Harry's peers asks and Harry answers: "Just be glad that Hogwarts' uniform is mostly black. At least that's a color that, together with the long robes, hides a lot of – let's say – people's physical insecurities.

The color and size of that uniform – did the complete opposite."

Some students, at hearing, burst out laughing, while others start to look as if they're going to be sick. At the same time I feel a light burst of pride at how the boy chose his words as he spoke.

There was … skin, probably.

Silently he wondered if this was his punishment for his thoughts about Dudley's uniform or if Petunia had noticed his true thoughts when Dudley was showing off.

After all, while Petunia had rarely ever been willing to buy anything for Harry, the clothes she usually either made Dudley give him or made for him herself at least looked as if a person was meant to wear them. Even if they often looked like they were meant to be worn by the homeless.

"Wow, this chapter is just the worst for us fashionistas." Lavender mutters to herself, yet just loud enough to be heard around the Great Hall.

The girl turns red to prove that she hadn't meant to be so loud, yet Harry saves her the embarrassment as he says: "Don't worry, the whole thing will end soon. And things will – for a while – get better for you guys next book."

I can't help myself. I look around and notice quite a large amount of students – somewhere around 40 or more – looking happily excited.

Dudley and … the doormat.

And as I read this, a sense of excitement is shortly followed by a sense of confusion as I suddenly wonder why the title says letters.

I want to look up and see if anyone else feels interested or confused about this, but instead, I just take a sip of water and read on.

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper. "Make Harry get it." "Get the mail, Harry." "Make Dudley get it." "Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley." Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - a letter for Harry. Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band.

"What is that about?"

James stands up and just the look on his face says it all. The man might not like what he's about to say, but he believes it regardless. Yet the look in his eyes also proves that the man has a plan in mind that makes it easier for him to speak.

"Remember how shocked Dumbledore was earlier when it was revealed that Magicals having business in the Muggle world ran into my son?

This is something similar. And, as much as it disgusts me to say this, I will consider this one of Dumbledore's only good decisions.

After all, the Statute of Secrecy would be dangerously risked if all fan mail kept being send to such a close-knit Muggle community. Not to mention that it would probably fuel Petunia's disgust for my son, if not her and Dudley's jealousy.

Just a shame that he decided to stick to that decision after Harry came back to Hogwarts and that he kept including most of the friends my son made."

I had been subtly watching Dumbledore from where I was hidden from his sight by James' form. And while the man had slowly started to look relieved and pleased, now he looks furious and shocked.

I grin as I read, enjoying how said friends are now sending the man annoyed looks.

No one … Whinging Surrey

"How is it possible that no one noticed that?"

James grimaces as he answers Susan's question with one of his own: "Who says no one noticed?"

Needless to say, this notion turns a lot of annoyed looks into disgusted ones, that are still aimed at the same person.

The envelope … own joke.

"THAT'S NOT FUNNY! Letter bombs have been injuring and even killing people for almost 230 years now. There's actually reports of that happening, even now, in Austria."

Someone in Ravenclaw asks Hermione how she knows that and she shrugs as she says: "My parents and I watch the news every night over summer. This stuff has been all over the news for almost two years now."

"Don't you mean, read the news?" Again Hermione shakes her head and tells them that the news is also shown on the television.

Yet before the girl can start to explain this, Harry turns to send me a pointed look. And while I feel a little guilty, I interrupt her and continue reading.

Harry went … traffic lights.

"Sorry, I can't help myself this time. What's a traffic light?"

The fact that the kid apologizes before asking his question makes a lot of his older peers smile at him in sweet care and pride.

Harry stands up, again interrupting Hermione. He pulls his wand and draws several lines in the air above the table.

Four halves of a square create a total of nine squares, with five of those not having an interrupting line. Then Harry follows this up by creating four arrows, one at the top right center that aims down, one at the bottom of the right center that is aimed left, one at the bottom center left that is aimed upwards and one at the top of the center left that is aimed right.

"This is what is known as a crossroad in the Muggle world. The arrows are where most cars would be going and from where they are coming.

However I'm sure you can see how dangerous and even deadly this can be, if not for traffic lights. They make sure that if cars from here and here (he motions for the top and bottom arrows) are allowed to drive, that these two (He aims for the other two) stand still.

That's why the books describe the colors. In regular traffic, green means that cars can go and red means that they need to stand still.

Though traffic lights are also used at other points. Such as at certain sections of a long straight road, to make sure that pedestrians can cross the road safely."

"How did Muggles get the chance to create such a clever thing?"

The derision in Parkinson's voice seems to lessen the disgust a lot of her fellow Blood Purists feel for her indirectly complimenting the Muggles, while it also makes a lot of Muggleborns glare at her.

Yet Harry silences her with a single statement that reminds me of his grandmother: "It's called the human ability to grow."

Parkinson clearly doesn't seem to have a witty comeback or retort to this, so I just read on, a huge grin of satisfied pride on my face.

And it … goodness - Vernon!"

From the corner of my eye, I spot one of the twins opening his mouth. Yet before Molly can stop them or reprimand them, Harry calls out to him and tells him:

"Fred, remember where you are. Act like the Heir you are. Think before you act." Fred and his twin brother share a look and then, in chorus, thank him.

And while Molly looks at Harry with wide eyes, I read on.

They stared … he sleeps?

"To be honest, I wondered the same thing when I first read my letter." Dean mutters to himself. James smiles and explains:

"To put it simply, it has to do with blood. It's one of the rare few methods of Blood Magic that is considered acceptable by the ICW.

When a magical child is born, Unspeakables from the ICW come to collect a small sample of their blood, less than a syringe really, and they store that in special samples that are linked to the Hogwarts wards.

The storage chamber itself is actually located right underneath the Headmaster's office, underneath that griffin statue that guards the entrance.

Then, when it's time for new first years to be welcomed to Hogwarts, the Headmaster meets with his Deputy and they each take a feather from the statue and put those to the envelopes.

That's how Dumbledore noticed what was described earlier, but not Minerva."

At this Susan stands up and says: "Professor McGonagall, if it's alright with you, I'm going to see if my aunt can come join you in these sessions from now on. So that cases as obvious as this one can never be overlooked or covered up again."

I don't know what amuses me more. The swiftness with which McGonagall tells Susan that Amelia will always be welcome in her office, proving that she'll no longer work together with Dumbledore on this, or the fact that Suan made this request to the Deputy instead of her boss.

And, just to increase my own sense of amusement, I interrupt Dumbledore and read on.

You don't … Vernon wildly.

"Not this book."

Those three words make a shiver run down my spine as I remember the last time Chirithy uttered them.

Yet this time, the little critter sounds annoyed and disgusted instead of horrified. And for some reason I get the feeling that the two events – are somehow linked.

"But what … do anything...

"Does he really think that will work?"

A lot of students ask. Harry rolls his eyes and asks: "Did you guys already forget what kind of community they created around themselves?

If we ignore it, it doesn't exist. That's why they grew so arrogant and full of themselves. They raised their offspring with the belief that cultures other than their own don't exist, because those rarely if ever come to their part of the country.

It's bloody stupid, disgusting and even a little sad that, regardless of them being landlocked, they basically created an island community over there. Heck, most of them only watch the local news and only check the national news for intel on criminals and the royal family.

But any news that proves that people don't live in England with the same high level of self-centered ambition and drive – that's either described as slander or outright ignored as fake news."

"But -" "I'm … dangerous nonsense?"

"ALBUS PERCIVAL WULFRIC BRIAN DUMBLEDORE!"

I don't know what surprises me more. How high-pitched Molly, Sprout, Pomfrey and Minerva can sound combined.

Or the fact that, for the first time since reading about B-Cedric's death, Dumbledore seems to genuinely whiten in shocked horror.

I turn to Harry and the boy seems to actually study and observe the situation as the four women vocally rip the man to shreds.

Yet when Molly screams: "I can only imagine –." Harry steps in and says: "Remember the start of the chapter, everyone."

This silences the four women and everyone turns to my godson. Harry stands up again and says: "He meant verbally. Like the book described earlier, there were rare occasions when any of them got physical.

Dudley and his Harry Hunting was really, genuinely the most frequent act of violence and, as large as that bastard is, his hits never caused more than severe bruising.

It was more what was described earlier, how the two of them didn't approve of imagination and all that, that he was talking about.

And don't you go getting any ideas, Headmaster. I'm not saying this to defend those Muggles. They can rot in prison for their verbal abuse and neglect for all I care.

I'm explaining this, because I didn't want Mrs. Weasley to worry about something that rarely to never happened, nothing more."

The whole Weasley family smiles at Harry, who gives most of them a wink and a nod before he sits down and I read on.

That evening … upstairs, now."

"And that's why I spoke up."

Everyone looks at Harry, who is leaning against his mother as he speaks: "Like the previous book mentioned, I've been waiting for my seventeenth birthday.

I'd be an adult by then and able to take control of my own life. But I haven't been sitting idly by and just waiting for that day to come.

I studied the law whenever possible and learned about the various ways a guardian can be held responsible for failing their charges.

I wanted the Dursleys arrested in the Magical world, because then I could use the fact that Dumbledore was the one to place me there against him.

I wanted an ironclad case against them all and for that, I needed to know what actions could be connected to what laws."

"Why didn't you contact me or ask me to contact my aunt?"

Harry grimaces as Susan asks him this and answers:

"I didn't start thinking like this until the next book. By then, I had started growing the belief that there were few people who didn't let themselves be blinded by Dumbledore's image. And the only person who proved otherwise – well, they didn't scream trustworthiness either.

That was my own fault, Susan. It was a combination of the effects of my upraising combined with what I saw around me."

Susan nods, an understanding smile on her face and Harry seems relieved to see this as I read on.

The Dursleys' … first bedroom.

"That is just a whole new level of wrong."

"I don't know. I think the way that Dursley said we think you're growing a bit too big for this cupboard to be much worse.

That proves that he genuinely doesn't see some people as actual humans with the human right to have a room of their own.

I think that kind of uncaring is actually much worse. That means that, whether that house had four, five or only three bedrooms, Harry would've been placed down there regardless."

"Not to mention that it further proves that mindset that Potter was talking about.

I'm going to ignore that what I'm doing is wrong until I have no other choice. And even then I'll try to pretend that I had a good reason to change it, instead of outside sources forcing my hand.

That man is giving Harry that bedroom because he fears us, yet he tries to pretend that this isn't the case and that he's doing Potter a favor."

"Are we going to have to deal with these filthy Muggles for much longer?"

For once I don't mind how few people are disgusted with Malfoy and his obvious anti-Muggle sentiments.

Harry grimaces and tells him: "Sorry Malfoy, but unfortunately Dursley can be very stubborn when he wants to keep something from happening.

That and his wife's refusal to accept that our community exists makes my actual introduction a lot more complicated than it had to be.

So, at most, we probably won't be rid of them until the chapter after the next one. And even then, the book might describe the time between my trip to Diagon Alley and September 1st."

Malfoy – and naturally a lot of others – seem to feel genuinely annoyed with this. And while I'm sure that their reasons are quite various, I read on with a smirk.

It only … this room.

"Before any of you speak up, I'm glad for this fact. It means I don't have to leave anything personal behind whenever I return home to the Magical world.

And it also means that, when I go home with my parents this summer, I don't have to make an annoying pitstop to pick up anything over there.

So thankfully, now I can just consider my floo trip from there to the Burrow last summer the absolute last time I ever laid eyes on that place.

Good – riddance."

I don't know what annoys Dumbledore more. That Harry is so obviously talking bad about a situation created by the old man's decision to leave an infant there. Or the fact that, by now, the entire hall seems to either agree with my godson or just not care.

But no one seems willing to continue standing with the old man and his belief that he did the right thing all those years ago.

He sat … on it.

"I don't know what's worse. That anyone would sell a weapon to someone under the Muggle adult age of 18 or that there is at least between one and two-thousand pounds of wasted money stored in that room.

All that stuff – bar the rifle – had to have been bought with Harry's money. There is no way anyone working for a company like Grunings can make enough money to pay for all that."

Other shelves … without it.

"That is just – too many levels of wrong."

Harry smiles at Susan and tells her: "Don't you worry. I only needed one year at Hogwarts, outside of their community, to start seeing the world the rest of humanity sees it. After that, it didn't take me long to start realizing the legality of my upbringing.

Or – lack thereof, really. And like I told you, I intend to see them arrested in this world, not theirs." Suan happily assures him that she'll make sure her aunt does just that as I read on.

Next morning … room back.

"Was that poor thing okay?"

A few students seem shocked that the young Hufflepuff sounds so worried. Yet Harry snickers and says: "Actually, it was on that day that I learned that we have someone working for Animal care living next to us.

The tortoise ended up in their backyard and when Vernon tried to get it back, the officer told him that he had two options. Either Dudley would spend time in juvie for animal abuse – or Vernon would leave the tortoise in his care.

Personally, I think that fact added to Dudley's shock. He didn't just not get his room back, he also lost his tortoise and he only had himself to thank for it."

"You really think it okay –."

But Harry rolls his eyes and says: "The guy had no choice. His company is all like protect the animals from abuse or you can find yourself another job.

He didn't really care for the tortoise, working for that company gave him a sympathetic reputation in the community. That's all he cared about. That and his paycheck."

As I read on, I hear someone whisper: "I wish someone lived there who worked in the police department. Or Child care, for that matter."

I genuinely agree with them.

Harry was … Privet Drive –'"

"How stupid is that kid?"

"Actually, I think I get his strategy."

Everyone looks at one of the older Ravenclaws and one of her younger peers asks "There's a strategy there?" The young woman nods and says:

"I think that the younger Dursley was under the belief that this was all a plot to make Harry unhappy. So he must have thought that, if he helped his parents with this plot, they'd reward with him what he wants most, to read the letter."

"How do you figure that?" The girl shrugs and answers: "The kid seems to have a one-track mind that is all about what he wants. So thinking about new ways to get that seems to me to be right up his alley."

I really don't like it, but I silently agree with the young woman as I read on.

With a … his hand.

"I guess that's the end of that theory." But the girl, whether out of stubbornness or something else, shakes her head and says: "It might be, or Dudley just didn't expect that kind of reaction from his father. Remember, the book did say that he had been in shock just earlier."

Someone jokingly asks her if she's studying to be a Mind Healer or something and the young woman jokes back: "How did you guess?" Under the sound of laughter, I read on.

"Go to … first letter.

"How exactly did you know that, Albus? Or were you actually expecting that fat Muggle to be so disrespectful to our world and custom?"

Before Dumbledore can talk his way out of the question, Harry mutters: "Considering how the rest of the year is going to pan out –."

Yet while he leaves it at that, the looks on the faces of McGonagall and Hagrid especially have me read on in deep concern.

Yet I also hear James mutter: "The letters are enchanted. If something happens to them, the Headmaster is alerted, so he can either take action or send another. My grandfather told me while we watched all this unfold."

Surely that … a plan.

"One that proved that I sincerely lacked proper education and that the upraising of those Muggles and their way of thinking affected my own personal talents, regardless of how much it disgusts me to admit that."

Harry grumbles to himself, only to burst out laughing as his father quips: "In other words, a plan devised by a ten-year old kid."

The repaired … uncle's face.

Though a small part of him felt this was a nice bit of vindication for the belt hitting he received a few weeks earlier.

Uncle Vernon … his eyes.

Harry handed him his tea and left the hallway. He cursed himself for coming up with a plan that was so simple, someone like Vernon could come up with it. He also silently cursed Vernon for obviously waiting for him to come back before he ripped apart the letters. Then he cursed himself again for not stepping onto more sensitive parts of the man.

"Molly, you and I both know that kids can often have some violent thought processes. We shouldn't judge them for it, unless they actively try to live out those thoughts.

Not to mention that everyone on earth has someone they dislike on such a level, they revel in the thought of personal revenge and vindication over official.

I'm not saying the former should precede the latter, but that the human brain and heart often make someone prioritize the former over the latter."

For some reason Molly still seems determined to reprimand my godson, even though she just received a clear reminder that he's no longer an orphan.

James sighs, stands up and walks around the table. He whispers something in her ear that makes her look at him scandalized.

Yet the reddened look on her face betrays her and James mutters: "Exactly." Before he returns to his side of the table.

I look at him from the corner of my eye and notice a lot of others also looking at him. Yet the man only motions, with his glance, at the twins.

I read on, understanding what he means. Even Molly, deep down inside, still wants personal justice for the loss of her brothers.

Uncle Vernon … brought him.

"How does that even work?"

Ron asks scandalized. Harry winces and mutters: "It was supposed to be for Dudley's tenth birthday party. They had bought it ahead of time, put in the freezer and then forgotten about it.

By the time they remembered, the effects of the freezer and the fact that it had expired months ago had made it almost as hard as a brick."

Amazingly enough this makes Ron look even more scandalized. The sight of this makes me hold back a chuckle as I read on.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Harry. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

"Okay, how does that even work?"

Harry sighs and asks: "If I answer this question, can we try not to focus on small details for the rest of the chapter? Malfoy and I might not agree on a lot of things, but we both want to move on from these Muggle chapters as quick as possible."

Malfoy himself doesn't actually seem to feel offended at being called out. And thankfully a lot of other students nod in agreement to the request.

"So from what I heard and learned, most Muggle homes have this small closet next to their door where they store their jackets, their shoes and some other stuff.

But the Muggles had gotten this really fancy coat hanger for their anniversary or moving into the place or something, I forgot.

So they had this handyman or something work to expand the size of the closet till it was the size of a small restroom. And Petunia, being the nosy bint she is, demanded a small window so she could enjoy the sight of her lovely neighborhood when she had to go.

Please don't ask. She's just that vain."

I feel for the kid, so I just quickly read on.

Uncle Vernon …. room window.

"Did someone Confund that poor man?" Susan exclaims horrified. Harry sighs and mutters:

"While I am sure that there are various groups of people who would either get a good laugh out of that or do so for their own gains, I don't believe that to be the case this time.

It's just that the man was worried about the state of the house and confused about Petunia not acting as if anything was wrong with her not being able to open her front door for him.

It was the first time that I could honestly remember where she didn't have an excuse that would be considered believable by that community."

Susan sighs relieved and apologizes for her outburst. But Harry, who seems more annoyed with the chapter itself than the interruptions, just smiles at her as I read on.

While Uncle … in amazement.

James sends his son an apologetic look and then turns to his Patron God as he asks:

"Lord Hades, do you think Lord Hermes would be willing to seek out all of the mail that my heir has failed to receive over the years?

I'm sure some people would expect that to simply be inside a vault at Gringotts, but you and I know the Goblins there well enough to know that they would never accept that much incoming owl post to fly into their facility on the daily.

Not for financial or official matters and certainly not in the first few years, where the entirety of Wizarding England was just desperate to get in contact with their new hero."

The god smirks, yet he tells James: "You'll have to ask him yourself, I'm afraid. You and the others did wonders on Hera, but Hermes is as loyal to Zeusy high-and-mighty as you can get.

And considering my most – ahem – recent altercation with my – darling brother, that flighty little flyer does not like me very much right now, to put it kindly."

Sora, Donald and Goofy seem to have a hard time either holding back laughter or snorts and Sora mutters: "Yeah, very lightly."

Amazingly enough, the God of Death only sends him a mildly annoyed glare before he turns his gaze back my way. I take that as my cue.

On Sunday … his newspapers,

A few Purebloods that are seated opposite me want to open their mouths. Yet thankfully they all have Muggleborns seated near them and these whisper I'll explain later to them.

"no damn … catch one.

"THAT'S MY SEEKER!" Oliver Wood startles a lot of us as he suddenly yells. And while he gets snapped at for his loud cry by Angelina and Katie, I read on.

At the same time I can only imagine how quickly his silence will come to an end once we reach the right parts of the Diagon Alley chapter.

"Out! OUT!" … and floor.

"Albus, what made you think putting a Duplication spell on those letters was a good idea? You've never done that and I've never seen that happen in the almost 30 years that I have been working here. Why are you doing this instead of just going there yourself?"

Dumbledore opens his mouth, yet James seems determined not to let the man talk as he says: "Minerva, that would require of him to actually put effort in his self-appointed role of guardian. Surely the last few chapters have proven that Albus is just much too busy with his other positions for that to even be an option."

The glare Dumbledore sends my best friend and partner seems to scare quite a few around me. Yet then Terra, Isa and Axel all stand up and glare straight back at the man.

And when Master Yen Sid stands up to block the man's gaze, an incredible aura of power seems to suddenly fill the entire hall.

Yet while the glare aimed at my beloved made me fear for him and his newly revived life, the sense of this power calms down all of my nervous energy.

"I said it before and I'll say it again. Those who would willingly voice their desire to do better are those who are best of heart.

Those who glare to refute criticism, regardless of the source, are weak of heart. Those weak of heart are always those who succumb to the darkness of greed or pride the first."

I bend to look around the man to see how Dumbledore reacts to this obvious challenge. My eyes widen when I see the sight before me.

Sweat drips down the man's brown, his eyes seem to water with tears of rage and his entire body seems to tense up with some kind of effort.

After a moment I realize what I am seeing. Dumbledore is trying to emit his own aura of power to match that of the Master's – yet the Master's is too strong for him to even manage that.

I stare at the man who sits only a few seats away from me and wonder: "How old is this man? Where did he acquire this kind of incredible strength? How long has he trained to get here?"

And while I silently vow – probably like many others – to talk with the man about this at earliest convenience, I resume reading.

"That does … sports bag.

Harry, on the other hand, because he owned so little, had managed to sneak a few fantasy books into his own duffel bag, which he had found at the bottom of the broken wardrobe.

They drove … did this.

Harry read one of the books he had taken with him, just to distract himself from how much Uncle Vernon's mental instability worried – and even somewhat scared – him.

"It didn't really work. I needed a year at Hogwarts to find something that could help distract me from the Dursleys and their crazy madness.

And even that failed in the following summer and the one after. Though the following summer wasn't really anyone's fault and the summer after – I tried harder than I did both this and the next summer combined and still failed."

James nods to emphasize this, while Lily seems to silently seethe with remembering what made her son fail.

I only remember strangely enough meeting my thirteen year old boy in the middle of the night that summer and worry over this as I read.

They didn't … his computer.

"Only one of those things is something that can really be considered something to complain about."

I roll my eyes at this statement as I remember plenty enough reasons of a similar nature that my mother and other relatives considered acceptable to complain about.

Yet I push these thoughts to the side and think to myself: "I'm already reading about one terrible family. No need to make my own mood even worse by remembering another."

And so I put my focus back on the family I currently despise.

Uncle Vernon … Hotel Cokeworth

"I can't believe I didn't notice this. You were actually being just as much of a threat to the Statute of Secrecy as the people in the first chapter, Albus.

And outside of what James just said, which can't be considered acceptable to begin with, you don't even have a valid excuse to hide behind."

This time James seems willing to let the man speak. Yet I can't help but notice that this is because he isn't staring at Minerva and Dumbledore – but at Hagrid.

A silent conversation seems to go on between the two, while Dumbledore tries to reassure his annoyed Deputy Headmistress.

"Yeah, a plan that've worked out better if you had picked a better person. No Professor, I don't consider what you and I did that week acceptable.

I felt honored, but I honor myself more by admitting my shortcomings. And I am not the person who should reintroduce someone of Harry's stature into this world.

And I'm not even talking about his fame when I say that, so don't any of you be getting any ideas."

I can't help but turn to James as I instantly understand what just transpired between the two. And while I feel intense pride for both the half-giant and my beloved, I read on.

Harry made … dining room.

Harry saw Vernon reach into one of his pockets and sunk back into his chair, already sure that he wasn't going to even get to see a single of those dozens of letters.

"He actually bribed her?"

Someone yells. Harry sighs and mutters: "Hotels that are that far outside of the popular areas are usually very dependent on tips. She probably decided not to see the difference in that instance. Like the book described, the place was pretty rundown.

Just trying to keep things clear here, people."

I read on, wondering why he even bothers.

"Wouldn't it … parking garage.

"Are we sure he's not the one who was Confunded?"

Someone mutters. Lily snorts and says:

"Dumbledore already admitted that when he told McGonagall that he had his reasons."

Quite a few people look at the man scandalized, yet because Axel and Terra are still standing, Dumbledore doesn't seem willing to respond.

"Daddy's gone … that afternoon. By now Harry had given up on reading any of the books he had with him. He even cursed himself for accidentally forgetting one in the hotel. He had still been trying to read that one the other day, even if he hadn't gotten past the first few pages.

"Which one was it?" Hermione asks, only to blush when Harry retorts: "You expect me to remember that? With everything else that happened in the last four years?"

A lot of laughter fills the hall, some at Hermione's expense, some in humor at the incredulous tone and large grin on Harry's face.

Hermione, thankfully, picks up on this and just quips back that Harry's a prat before she smiles back at him as I read on.

Uncle Vernon … eleventh birthday.

"Now I really want to know your reasons for doing things this way, Albus. I finished all of my Muggleborn visits by the previous Friday, the day the mail came through that small window in the bathroom.

Why didn't you send me out the following Saturday? Was it really because of what Hagrid said? Because you relied on his inability to properly reintroduce Mr. Potter? Was there something about his reintroduction you felt compelled to ignore or skip, per chance?"

"Read on and see for yourself, Minerva." James answers for the old man. instantly Minerva turns to me and says:

"I'll take the next chapter, Sirius. I want to see what Hagrid might have, unknowingly, forgotten to include."

And while Dumbledore tries vainly to tell the woman that he had good reasons to do things this way, I just speak over him and read on.

Of course, … old socks.

The only good thing about his birthday was that, for some reason, it was the one day that, no matter how angry he was, Uncle Vernon never let his anger out on Harry.

"I wonder if someone might have warned them about how emotions can affect someone's chances at casting Accidental Magic.

Maybe the Dursleys worried that, if they worked too hard to ruin Harry's fun on his birthday, it would make his emotions – and thus his magic – more volatile."

Just like Oliver, Luna's sudden statement shocks a lot of her peers. Harry rolls his eyes and mutters: "If so, they forgot to warn one member of the family."

And the look on his face reminds me of myself when I was his age and being reminded of being related to Walburga Black.

Again I force those thoughts and memories to the back of my mind, yet the look on my godson's face still worries me as I read on.

Still, you … all aboard!"

"Yep, definitely Confunded. No man, regardless of a state of sanity, would willingly risk his loved ones in a place like that.

No, I'm not talking about Potter. But that man has been described to care about his son and wife. I meant them."

A few students snicker at how embarrassed their peer sounds as he explains himself. Yet I tell them: "Only a few more paragraphs. Keep your comments to yourself for a bit, please."

Everyone turns to me and their gazes prove one thing; they're all very willing to comply. I feel a mix of gratitude and light embarrassment as I read on.

It was … two rooms.

I really can't help myself. While I take another sip of water, I silently wonder to myself: "Did Dumbledore seriously try to build a miniature version of the Shrieking Shack on that rock or something?" I clear my throat and read the last bit.

Uncle Vernon's … ragged blanket.

It's obvious that this bit of the chapter stirs up a lot of emotions in those around me and in the hall at large. Thankfully, everyone keeps quiet. I mentally thank them for this as I continue reading.

The storm … with hunger.

He had put one of his books underneath his cloths, yet the spray of the water on the way to the rock had still soaked through and now the pages stuck together. Even that distraction had been taken from him.

Dudley's snores … it did.

Just to be safe though, he silently moved over to one of the corners near one of the filthy windows. If the house did collapse, that would probably make the windows shatter. So if he stayed close, but out of range of the splintering glass, he might have a better chance of getting out of the rubble than the Dursleys. He felt sure that Uncle Vernon and Dudley's thick forms would protect them from the worst of damage.

He wasn't so sure about Aunt Petunia.

Four minutes … the sea?

Harry reassured himself with the thought that the sound seemed to be coming from the other side of the hut, away from where he was lying and waiting.

One minute … come in.

Instantly alle yes turn to Hagrid, who grins.

That was that.
And guess what. Unless I change my mind between now and the next time I start on this story again, which I don't see happening anytime soon, I may just pull a Preventing Trouble PoA on the start of the chapter following the next one.
To be honest, those changes to PoA Preventing are what keeps drawing me back to that story. Even if the upcoming CR chapter makes it really, REALLY hard for me to bring up the drive to get started on it.
Who wants to write about those fiends?

Venquine1990