Carl blinked his eyes open. He couldn't see anything to tell him just where he was. His memory was feeling very sketchy at the moment, not giving him any clues. He tried to move, and found that he was wrapped up tight in some cloth.
There was a huge amount of heat on one side of him from what felt like a huge body. He couldn't hear anything beyond the loud rushing of wind and the rumbling of a motorcycle engine.
Suddenly, his mind clicked together and he remembered how he had died in a Walmart of all places. Just a moment later, images began flowing through his mind, as if he was watching a first person movie, or remembering events in his own life. The attached feelings and emotions were muted though, as if he was experiencing them second hand.
At first everything was blurry, and he couldn't see anything, only feel some sensations. Carl was embarrassed to be experiencing what it was like to crap his pants and have his tush wiped clean.
As fantastical as it was, Carl admitted to himself what was happening. Memories of his death, having a small and uncoordinated body, and having memories running through his mind. All the signs indicated he was in a new body in a new life.
'Maybe not quite so new.' Carl thought as he watched plenty of time pass through the movie in his mind.
He saw his parents in this life for the first time. His beautiful redheaded mother always had a kind and loving smile for him. His goofy father with messy black hair always had a smile of pride for him, or a loving kiss for his wife.
Carl startled hard when he heard them name him Harry and called each other Lily and James.
'Well, shit.' Carl thought. 'I'm Harry Fuckin Potter!' Even though he was enjoying the memories of his interactions with his mother and father, he felt a sense of sadness and melancholy flooding him.
Judging by the sound of the engine, the wind, and feeling like an enormous body was holding him, this could only be Halloween Night of 1981. Which meant that Lily and James were already dead. And with him here, it also probably meant that poor little Harry Potter didn't survive the killing curse in this universe.
The speed of the memories passing through his mind were quite subjective. If felt like months were passing in his mind, but he was still flying with Hagrid on the motorcycle. So obviously he was experiencing them much faster than real time.
Carl watched and experienced the early life of Harry that was full of happiness. He could see the signs of Lily and James keeping their worry over the war and the prophecy in the back of their mind when they were around Harry. They didn't want to affect the growth of their child.
As Carl watched the interactions between James and Lily, he was touched by seeing how good they were together.
He really only had speculation and scattered ideas from reading the original books in the past, so he really had no idea what it was that eventually brought the two together. But he could see how good they were together. Even when they were having differences of opinions they respected each other and tried hard to work their problems out.
'At the very least, I can rule potions out.' Carl thought over some of the nastier fanfictions he had read that talked about James using love potions on Lily. 'There's no way that someone befuddled by love potions would act that way. They are just two young people in love, trying to get through the hard times together.'
Carl also watched his early memories of the other Marauders, especially at his- Harry's birthday party.
Sirius acted in the way that he expected him to, from his memories of the books. He was a clever goof that liked to play around.
Remus was much calmer, obviously through much effort from having to deal with Sirius.
James got a bit rambunctious with his buds there, but he would calm down when he saw Lily's significant looks.
Peter, on the other hand, didn't seem like a rat at all at that time.
'Maybe it was living for over a decade as a pet rat that influenced his appearance by the time of Harry's third year?' All Carl had was speculation.
While Peter wasn't acting like a rat or suspicious, he was a very self effacing man. Even going so far as to crack jokes at his own expense for a laugh. Carl got the sense that many of the jokes that all four men were cracking had been endlessly repeated over their school years. They felt very comfortable together.
Carl felt a sense of sadness at seeing the scene of all four Marauders together. If there had never been a Voldemort, if he hadn't been engaged in a war to grab up the reins of power for himself. If things had been different, the four men's fellowship would never have been broken. They would have just been four school friends trying to get on in the world, build a family, and live their life.
But despite a lingering sense of sadness about the tragedy of their lives, Carl couldn't shake off the feelings of 1 year old Harry Potter that was having the time of his life. All his favorite uncles were there. And he had a broom that let him chase their cat!
Feeling Harry Potter's feelings on that broom, Carl could see how the boy could love flying so much. It felt great!
Carl felt them descending when his memories were still about a month away from that fateful Halloween.
They came to a stop, and Carl heard the motorcycle engine shut off.
"Professor Dumbledore, sir. Professor McGonagall." Carl heard the rumbling deep voice of Hagrid coming from next to him. He kept his eyes closed and pretended to be asleep.
"No problems, I trust, Hagrid?" The aged voice of Dumbledore queried.
"No, sir. Little tyke slept the whole trip. There you go, try not to wake him."
Carl felt a large pair of hand handing him over to a more normal adult sized pair of arms that cuddled him. It felt really weird to be so small again, after being an adult for so long.
He felt his body being shifted a bit, and cracked his eyes open to see a wand waving over him. The next second, Carl's connection to his body sense faded away.
He was still experiencing the memories of Harry Potter, so he could only assume that Dumbledore had made sure that he would sleep until he was picked up by the Dursleys in the morning.
With no bodily senses or signals distracting him, the memories of Harry Potter that he was viewing became several times more intense. He felt as if he was living them, instead of just watching them.
'Damn.' Carl thought as he was experiencing everything that little Harry had, from changing diapers to running around and getting carpet burns from skidding on the rugs. 'I get to live it just in time for the really bad event.'
Halloween arrived.
Carl, stuck in the memory that he knew was going to be bad, was struggling under his own dread that sharply contrasted with Harry's mood of fun and enjoyment. He wasn't sure how to handle the conflicting emotions.
And finally came the time in the evening that Voldemort attacked. The loud bang and crash from the front door told Carl that Voldemort was in the house. Carl was surprised that through Harry's senses, he could feel the huge amount of magic that was wildly crashing around the in the surroundings.
'It makes sense that a large amount of magic was being thrown around. It's not like the Potters would have relied on only the Fidelius. Voldemort probably tore down their defensive wards in a spectacular fashion to instill fear and hopelessness in them.'
"It's him!" James stated. Harry was snatched up by Lily, so Carl didn't get a good view of what was happening in the room. But he felt the three way hug. "Take Harry and run. I'll hold him off."
Carl wished he wasn't stuck in the memory. He was feeling the fear that Harry felt at his parent's unusual behavior. He could hear the despair and knowledge that he was going to die in James' voice. But he also heard the determination to give his family time to escape.
Carl felt little Harry being carried to through the room to the kitchen. He was held so his face was over her shoulder. Harry was looking back where they left his father. Carl could hear the sound of a doorknob rattling.
A moment later, the sounds of combat and yelling came from the entryway of their house.
From the corner of Harry's eye, Carl saw Lily trying to cast spells on the door and windows, but nothing was working to open them up. Voldemort must have done some careful preparation to keep the Potters from escaping. After all, with them having escaped him three times already, he knew how slippery they could be.
Lily then carried Harry upstairs. Carl watched as she failed to open any of the windows on the second floor. If the situation weren't so tragic and dire, Carl would have laughed at the curse words that came out of Lily's mouth.
The sounds of combat downstairs ended. Silence fell.
Through Harry's eyes, Carl saw the tears falling from Lily's face.
Impatiently dashing her tears away, Lily placed Harry in his crib in the room they were in. She couldn't open any of the windows to make her escape. James was dead. And they were trapped up here, with that monster coming.
Carl watched as Lily took up a knife and slashed her hand, pouring blood in a certain spot of the room. The bare walls of the room were lit up by red glowing runes that were scrawled all over them. Even the ceiling and floor had the magical glowing runes scrawled all over. A moment later the runes faded back to invisibility.
Lily used her wand to close her wound and then turned to face the closed door.
Carl could then hear the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. The sound echoed in his ears.
'It seems like Voldemort has a sense of the dramatic and how to instill fear in his victims. He had to have cast a spell to cause the sound of footsteps. Has he been watching muggle horror movies?'
The footsteps paused outside the door for a moment. Carl could see Lily getting more and more tense.
The door blasted open, revealing the Dark Lord.
Lily started casting a spell, but Voldemort wordlessly ripped her wand out of her hands. Carl thought that she had been disarmed so easily because the amount of magic power she had sunk into the runes left her tired and unable to defend herself properly. At least the way she was leaning weakly against Harry's crib led Carl to this conclusion.
"Stand aside, girl." Voldemort's tenor voice intoned from the doorway.
Carl could only see Lily's back from where Harry was standing in the crib.
"No, please. Take me and leave Harry." Lily's voice pleaded.
Carl could hear a hidden note to her voice. As if she wasn't simply pleading for mercy from the notoriously unmerciful Dark Lord. It sounded to Carl like she was invoking a clause that was hidden in the small print of a contract.
"Just stand aside and you can live, foolish girl." Voldemort impatiently said.
"Don't hurt Harry. Please, take me and leave him alone."
Carl could see Lily's hands were clenched tightly.
"I've promised one of my followers that you would be spared. But if you defy me once more, you will die. Now, for the last time, move aside." Voldemort sounded angrily offended, as if having someone who didn't immediately jump to do his will were an affront to his dignity.
"No, please spare Harry, and take me instead." Lily said for the third time.
"Very well, you made your choice." Voldemort stated coldly, cruelly. "Avada Kedavra!"
Carl saw a flash of green, which seemed to wash over Lily's form. Then Harry's mother fell limply to the ground. Harry's eyes followed the falling form to the floor. Carl saw the lifeless eyes of Lily. But her face had a strange sense of peace, instead of fear. As if she had accomplished her goal at the cost of her life, and found it worthwhile.
Harry's eyes then tracked up to look at Voldemort when he heard the mocking laugh from the Dark Lord.
Carl got his first look at the Dark Lord Voldemort, born as one Tom Marvolo Riddle. He still had hair at this point. Voldemort looked like a handsome but cruel man in his early 30s. Only the glowing red magical energy flowing from his eyes showed that he was anything other than a regular man.
"So, this is one of the possible Prophecy Children. I'm not impressed." Voldemort sneered at Harry. He raised his wand, pointing it directly between Harry's eyes. Carl's gaze focused on the tip, which was already glowing green. "Avada Kedavra!"
The memories then grew chaotic. Carl vaguely saw the green light of the curse hit him before rebounding and striking Voldemort, before his vision grew blurry. Carl felt the pain in every part of his body. It felt like it was tearing him apart!
Then darkness took him.
"Vernon!"
The next thing Carl knew, he heard a woman's strident voice waking him up. He opened his eyes and tried looking around. The early morning sun shone down on them, illuminating the world. But Carl's vision was still horribly blurry. He could barely see the two faces of who he could only assume were Vernon and Petunia Dursley staring down at him.
"What is that doing here?" Carl heard Vernon say.
'Yeah, thanks for that consideration.' Carl sarcastically thought.
"It looks like Lily's boy. It has her eyes anyway. There's a letter." Petunia said.
Carl was wondering just how long were they going to be staring at him, leaving him lying on their front porch. He didn't feel cold, so presumably Dumbledore had cast some spells to ensure he wouldn't die of exposure.
Unless it was his new body's magic that kept him warm?
"Vernon. The neighbors are watching." Petunia's stressed voice then said.
"Fine." Vernon ground out. "We'll take him in for now."
Carl felt a pair of hands picking him up and brining him in. He belatedly wondered if he should have struggled out of his blankets and got up on his own, instead of stupidly staring back at the Dursleys.
Inwardly shrugging at his late impulse, Carl tried to look around the house he found himself in as he was being carried into the living room. He was set down on the floor in the corner, which caused him to snort at their strange behavior.
Shrugging once more at the absolutely strange situation he found himself in, Carl struggled out of the blanket that was wrapping him up and sat up, looking around curiously. He heard the sound of the letter opening, and paper rustling.
Carl thought it telling that his vision was so bad now, when his memories of Harry's year of life had him with perfect vision.
'Harry's vision - well, my vision now - must have been ruined either by the Avada to the face, or the soul leach that grabbed on to my head.'
Carl reached up and felt his forehead. Sure enough, there was a ropy, bumpy scar in the middle of his forehead. It felt quite tender too, like it wasn't fully healed.
'So, I'm a Horcrux now?' Carl thought. 'And it's ruined my vision, dammit.'
Carl's attention was brought once more to Vernon and Petunia as they were arguing about whether or not to keep him. From what he could gather, the note left by Dumbledore had stated that the protections on their house that kept them safe from the magicals would last as long as Harry was a resident.
"You don't understand what all those freaks can do Vernon!" Petunia frantically argued. "Even shortly after Lily's first year, that horrid boy Snape had already learned some nasty spells that were so painful!"
"He cast them on you?" Vernon sounded furious on behalf of Petunia. "That bastard, if I ever see him, I'll-"
"No! It's better if we never see them ever!" Petunia desperately interrupted. "If these protections can keep those freaks away from us, and protect our Dudders, it's worth it to have to give room and board to Lily's boy. Even if he turns out a freak like them, at least we'll only have to deal with one freak that doesn't know how to use his magic to hurt us. It's better than some of those adult freaks coming here and torturing and killing us."
"Are you sure, Pet? I don't see why they would even bother with us normal folks. I can just drop him off at child services on my way to work, and we won't ever have to put up with them." Vernon tried to persuade Petunia to get rid of Carl in Harry Potter's body.
"It wouldn't work, Vernon. That Snape freak was Lily's friend, and from what I gathered from her letters before we stopped talking, he chose that Dark Freak's side. He knows about me and might come looking, or send their freak friends here to look for Lily's boy. If we don't have those protections when they come looking, I shudder what might happen to us and to Dudley." Petunia's voice just kept getting more frantic and desperate as she tried to convince Vernon to keep Harry Potter.
"Fine. You're right, Pet. But I won't put up with any of his freakishness. Especially if he tries to use it on our boy." Vernon announced.
Carl heard and vaguely saw the shape of Vernon stand up from the couch. Vernon approached Carl and bent down to pick him up. Carl felt the man's two hands under his armpits, holding him at arm's length.
"Runty little thing, isn't he? Not like our Dudders."
Carl kept an inquisitive look on his face, not indicating he understood what Vernon said. It was hard for Carl not to laugh at what Vernon said. He couldn't blame any parent for being proud of their boy, but the blindness and pride in Dudley that the Dursleys evidenced in the book was just amusing.
"Well, I'll put him in the spare room for now." Vernon said as he carried Carl upstairs.
A short time later, Carl found himself sitting on the floor a mostly empty room that had some boxes stacked in the corner. Vernon had firmly shut the door behind him as he went back downstairs.
Carl was actually glad the man had left him alone, since it gave him a chance to think about his situation.
The first thing that Carl pondered was what Petunia had said about Snape. It sounded an awful lot like Snape had taken to tormenting Petunia when Lily wasn't around. If that was really the case, then it explained a lot of Petunia's estrangement from Lily.
And Carl couldn't really blame Petunia at all, when he thought about it. He sighed at the sheer horrible drama of it all though.
While Carl couldn't be sure that he was 100% right in his conjectures, based on what he knew from the canon books he could make a guess.
Chances were that all through their first year Lily had to deal with the fighting between James Potter's group of four and Severus Snape. She would have been conditioned and trained to automatically take Snape's side, since Snape was her friend.
Carl even speculated that Snape had run a sneaky plot at least a few times where he would start the trouble with James and his group, and when the altercation ended, he would show his pitiful puppy dog eyes to Lily, who would tear into James.
Carl came to the conclusion that Snape would have done something like this because it was basically what Draco Malfoy had done years later with Harry. Provoke a conflict with Harry when his godfather Snape was around, so when Harry exploded Malfoy would use his relationship with Snape and his pitiful look to get Harry in trouble.
So Lily would have been conditioned all year to automatically take Snapes side. So when Petunia complained about Snape to her, Lily would have felt like it was a repeat of the whole year and automatically protect Snape from her sister.
Petunia would have been hurt by her own sister taking the side of Snape. It would only take so much of that before she felt like the magical world had taken her sister from her. Petunia would have felt like the magicals were cruel people.
Especially if she ended up getting pranked by James or his friends in later years when Lily started dating James.
Any amount of casual pranks to the Marauders, who were used to dealing with future Death Eaters, would have felt horribly demeaning, frightening, and cruel to Petunia.
The fact that they could reverse the effects would not have helped one whit. The sense of helplessness, the fear. That would stick with Petunia.
So while Carl was completely speculating about their past based on one sentence from Petunia, he really couldn't blame her for the fear and hate toward magicals if anything like that had happened.
And the couple hadn't been cruel to him at all. He was even put in the spare bedroom, rather than the cupboard under the stairs.
Thinking about that, Carl was thinking that Harry's own accidental magic was probably the catalyst for him being chucked in the cupboard under the stairs.
Carl wasn't blaming Harry for it, by any means, but the catalyst for why he was so poorly treated by the Dursleys was likely Harry's own accidental magic.
A small 15 month old boy who had seen his mother die in front of his eyes, gone through the trauma of a death curse, been messed up by a horcrux, and was suddenly plopped into an environment where he was merely tolerated, not loved? Yeah, chances were high that his emotions went out of whack and caused some kind of accident.
And if that accident affected Dudley? Or even almost affected Dudley?
Yeah, chances were that was the reason that Harry got chucked into the cupboard that was as far from Dudley's room as it could be in the house.
"Keep him busy with chores and he won't have time to mess about with that freak business" was probably the rationale for the excessive chores.
And if some accident happened to Dudley because of Harry's magic, but they couldn't get rid of Harry because of the fear of the rest of the magical world? Which resulted in the Dursleys feeling guilty for putting Dudley in danger, even if it would protect them from further danger? Then they would probably overcompensate and give him lots of gifts and spoil him.
That accident would likely have happened after a few weeks. In that time Vernon would have seen all the crazy freaks celebrating Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived in public, so he would have gotten an inkling of how much the dark freaks would have wanted to find the boy for revenge.
And the more time that passed where none of the freaks showed up at their house, the more convinced the Dursleys would have been that the protections were working.
And that was the basics of the hate-need relationship that developed between the Dursleys and Harry, or at least that is what made sense to Carl, based on the few clues he had to work with.
What did all this mean for Carl? Why was he thinking of this?
Because as a 15 month old, he knew he couldn't survive on his own. He knew from the canon books that there were despicably evil Death Eaters out there that would love to skin him alive and torture him to death.
The original Harry lived with the Dursleys until it was time to go to Hogwarts. He survived, so those wards that Dumbledore put up had to have done something, even if he didn't know the exact details.
Ultimately, Carl knew he would be here for the next 10 years. And the best way to make his life for the next decade not suck was to avoid accidental magic. While he didn't need to go so far as to become the Dursley's House Elf to suck up to them, he needed to at least keep up the appearance of normality to keep them from actively thinking of him as a freak.
So his step 1 would be to meditate. He needed to make sure he was in charge of his emotions, since emotional spikes seemed to be connected to accidental magic. And meditation was likely to be connected to the Occlumency skill, and maybe even the preliminary steps to gaining an animagus form, so he figured it would be good to arrive at Hogwarts with that much work and effort put in.
Step 2 would be to observe Dudley and imitate him, to a degree. It had been a long time since Carl was a kid, and he had no idea how to be a 2 year old. So he would take his cue from Dudley as to what kind of activities he would be interested in, and what level of development he should be at.
Step 3…profit?
Carl had no idea. There were a lot of fanfic ideas, speculation, and hopes and dreams for magic that he would like to explore. But the fact of the matter was that he had no idea what to do.
Sure he knew there was a supposed Prophecy hanging over his head, and that two crazy powerful wizards were going to do everything they could to force Carl, who was now Harry, to fulfill said Prophecy.
Carl's opinion on that could be summed up in three words: Load of Shit.
Sitting in the corner of his room, Rubbing his lightning bolt scar which was probably a horcrux – 'And what the hell am I going to do with that Horcrux, anyway?' – Carl was at a loss for what he could do. He was feeling a bit overwhelmed at the huge changes in his life.
Not only was he in a difficult situation as a 1 year old, with the knowledge of what was likely awaiting him, but he was starting to feel like he was on the verge of crying.
Without wasting any more time, Carl adjusted himself so he was sitting cross legged and began trying to figure out just what the hell someone did when meditating.
Looking down at his belly button for a few moments, Carl thought he may have been taking the phrase "navel gazing" a little too literally.
Looking across at the light switch on the wall, Carl focused on that one item. He studied the features of the light switch. He thought about its function. How flipping light switched felt. How the light would fill the room when flipping up the light switch, and how the room would get dark when flipping down the light switch.
Carl didn't let anything else distract him from thinking about everything he knew about light switches. He thought about where the copper wires ran in the walls to go from the switch to the light bulb. About how the electricity entered the house and passed by the switch, then moved on to the light bulb, back to the switch, and once more exited the house.
Focusing on something that was not related to his situation seemed to calm him. His young body's emotions calmed down and he was no longer feeling overwhelmed. The sadness that the Harry Potter memories of his parents imparted to him took a step back in his mind.
Carl took a deep breath in, held it, and then exhaled slowly, imagining that he was expelling all the negative feelings that were so threatening before.
"I don't know if that's how other people meditate, but it seemed to work for me." Carl whispered to himself.
Carl returned to his meditation attempts while he waited in the room.
A short time later, he felt the need to take a piss growing. Standing up, he moved over to the door and stared up at the doorknob that he could barely reach.
"I don't know when kids get potty trained. But I am not going to piss myself until Dudley figures it out!"
Jumping up, Carl managed to grab the handle. With a twist, he opened the door. Cautiously looking out, he saw the hall was empty. Listening intently, he heard the sounds of Petunia and Vernon talking. He couldn't make out what they were saying, just heard their voices. Occasionally he heard the laughing sound of Dudley.
'Guess they are talking while they feed the little tyke?' Carl thought. 'Should I wander down after going to the bathroom and make myself known to get some food?'
The empty feeling in his belly decided him. If the Dursleys ended up starving him maliciously would be one thing, but if they just neglected him because they didn't really care for him and he didn't fight for his share of food and grew up into a runt, that would be his own stupidity.
He made his way to the bathroom in the hallway and shut the door behind him. He saw there was a stepstool next to the toilet. Pulling it into position, he soon had his shorts down and feeling good about the stream he was making.
After flushing and washing his hands, Carl- no, Harry, made his was downstairs. He stood at the edge of the dining room, looking in for a bit before he was noticed by Petunia.
"What are you doing here?" Petunia asked a bit too harshly in Harry's opinion.
"Food?" Harry asked hopefully in what he hoped was an innocently childish imitation.
Petunia sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose, while Vernon snorted in amusement.
"Well, scrawny he is but he seems to follow his stomach." Vernon joked, causing Petunia to gain a small, strained smile. Even if she was estranged from her sister, it still hurt that she was now dead. Especially how uncaring and callous those freaks were to inform her by letter when dropping her nephew off on her doorstep in the middle of the night like an unwanted sack of potatoes.
"Yeah. Sit over there." Petunia pointed at one of the chairs at the table. Harry walked over and pulled out the chair. Climbing up, he sat while Petunia busied herself at the stove and Vernon continued reading the paper while he ate.
He looked over at Dudley who was in a booster chair busy playing with his food. He didn't know how this Dudley would turn out in the end, but right now he was somewhat of an adorably fat toddler. Chuckling a bit the happily playing boy, Carl admitted to himself that he could see how Dudley's parents had grown so fond of him.
'As long as they don't go spoiling him for whatever reason, either to emphasis how unwanted and unloved Harry is, or to make up for the guilt they feel, this Dudley shouldn't turn into such a bad guy.' Carl thought.
In the canon story, once Harry saved Dudley from the Dementor, he really changed himself. If canon Dudley had that potential inside him, even after years of being a bully and spoiled brat, then this Dudley definitely had potential to be a decent person. Hopefully he wouldn't need to go through the same experiences to finally learn to be a decent person.
Carl/Harry thought of ways he could help with that. Kind of hard when he was pretty much the same age as Dudley.
'Maybe if I can just be his friend and cousin/brother?' Harry thought. 'As long as I keep my temper and don't have crazy accidental magic, the Dursleys seem willing to at least treat me in a neutral manner.'
Carl's thoughts were interrupted by a plate of pancakes and eggs being put in front of him.
"Eat." Petunia said in a decently normal tone of voice, before beginning to fuss over Dudley.
Harry flashed his aunt a smile and began awkwardly eating the food. His hands didn't seem to want to follow his orders like he was used to. Internally shaking his head, Harry began planning ways to train his body so that he didn't feel so awkward in it.
A short time later, Vernon put away his paper, piled his plate in the sink, rubbed Dudley's head, kissed his wife, and left for work.
Harry ended up in the living room with Dudley while Petunia cleaned up while keeping an eye on the two boys. He watched Dudley play with the toys and sat down with him. He didn't try to grab any of Dudley's toys from him to start playing with them.
He had seen Dudley watching him occasionally during breakfast. He really didn't know what kind of thoughts ran through a regular 2 year old, but he knew that humans could be territorial. If he tried to grab Dudley's toys, it might precipitate a fit. It would probably be better to get Dudley used to his presence and make friends first, before trying to imitate the young boy and play with toys.
It seemed to work, cause only a few minutes later Dudley handed him a little car to play with. Harry smiled at Dudley, who smiled back at him. They soon started playing together.
Harry had an idea after a few minutes when he was already feeling bored from the lack of mental stimulation. He started treating this play time with Dudley as a time to meditate. It had worked earlier when he had put all his attention on the light switch, everything else had fallen to the wayside. All his concerns and worries had seemed less important and his mind had been focused on just the one thing.
So Carl decided to try to do the same thing with the play. He would focus all his attention on the moment, trying to let his attention focus on one thing while allowing his mind to wander. It didn't make a lot of sense when he was trying to come up with a way to describe it, but it seemed to be working for Harry.
Meditation seemed to be kind of like those Magic Eye pictures, really. You had to focus on it, while looking through it, be focused yet unfocused in a particular way. No matter how much someone described the method to be able to see those 3D pictures, a person had to experiment on their own to get the hang of it. And some people never figured out how to do it.
Harry felt like he was starting to get the meditation thing, maybe. It felt like it was calming him, at least, which is what he hoped for from it. Now he just needed to continue doing and experimenting with it, to see how much use he could get out of it.
In the afternoon Vernon arrived home with a mattress for Harry to sleep on. Seeing that, Harry felt like there were a lot of things that Dumbledore really should have done to make things easier for the Dursleys.
How much money does it take to provide for a kid? Aside from food, there are clothes, bed, bedding, hygiene items, and a host of other things. And what does Dumbledore do? Drop him on the doorstep with nothing else. No financial aid, as far as Harry knew. No bag of clothes, just what he was wearing. No toys to keep him occupied. Nothing but the boy and an expectation to provide for him.
Yeah, thinking of it now, Harry could see how the initial expense of providing for Harry, an unwanted complication to Vernon's life, could have annoyed the man greatly.
But seeing the man bring home a mattress so Harry could have somewhere to sleep at night actually caused him to feel a bit of respect for this Vernon. Dare he say it, a bit of affection for the opinionated man. He at least seemed to be family oriented and proactive. Admirable qualities.
Thinking about the whole situation, he felt that he could come to like these Dursleys. Understanding how a person got to a certain point in their life due to the various influences on them was one thing. Forgiving them for what they actually did, their actions, was another thing. Just because someone could feel sympathy for a person for being in a tough situation didn't mean they had to countenance their actions when they did something wrong.
Like Vernon, for example. By the time that the original Harry had turned 11, his relationship with his relatives were horrible. Vernon treated Harry poorly, barely provided for him, and at least verbally abused him.
But this Vernon that Carl/Harry was dealing with hadn't gotten to that point yet. He hadn't actually done the actions that made the story Vernon such a bastard. So Harry just had to keep up his part and not disrupt their lives, as much as he was able, in order to not put Vernon in the position where he would commit actions against him.
If he could have a good relationship with the Dursleys, then his life would be better and he wouldn't be starved or worked to the bone. So it was in his own self interest to not be a snotty little bastard that provokes conflict with his new guardians just because a story version of them was less than ideal.
And just like that, on Carl's first day in the new world he became Harry Potter and began his life with the Dursleys. He fell into a deep sleep on the mattress and sheets that his new Uncle Vernon had purchased especially for him.
"Up, up! Get up, boys! It's your first day of school!"
Harry easily rolled out of his bed at his Aunt Petunia's call from the hallway, having already been awake. He laughed out loud when he heard the thump of Dudley falling out of bed in the next room. His cousin was not a morning person.
On the other hand, he always woke up very early and spent some time in his meditation practice before starting his day. Over the past five years, he felt like he had made a lot of progress in his ability to meditate.
He could quickly drop into the mindset needed at a moment's notice now. Even if his cousin was being loud and rambunctious, a quick bit of effort and his emotions would smooth out and he wouldn't feel the need to indulge in frustration, anger, sadness, or other strong emotions.
Harry was very thankful that the meditation seemed to come so easily to him, because his young body seemed to experience emotions very strongly. Without the help of meditation, he would have lost control long ago, which would have probably ended up with a bout of accidental magic. He could always feel his magic inside. Sometimes it bubbled around excitably, sometimes it flowed calmly like a deep river.
Being able to calm himself and avoid accidental magic had allowed his relationship with the Dursley to continue getting better and better. They never threw him into the cupboard under the stairs. They never forced him to cook, or hit his head with frying pans. He was treated like a normal boy, which suited him just fine.
After making his bed, he pulled on the pants and shirt he would wear for his first day at school, tied his shoes, and then scooped up his glasses from the desk and put them on. The world around him came into focus. He was still annoyed that he used to have perfect vision but Voldemort ruined it for him. What a dick.
Harry left his room and went downstairs and sat at the table.
"Morning!" He called out to his aunt with a smile.
"Someone is eager for their first day of school." Aunt Petunia commented with a smile from her place at the stove.
"Yeah, I think it will be fun." Harry answered while twisting back and forth on his chair. Kids were fidgety, he had learned from watching Dudley. "Dudley didn't seem as excited about it, until he heard about the kind of games we can play with others at recess."
"Oh, that boy. So active." Petunia fondly muttered.
Harry smiled a bit at his Aunt's obvious love for her son. He wasn't a normal six year old that yearned for the love and care of a mother figure, so he didn't feel jealousy or feel there was anything wrong with her pouring more love for her own child than for him. In fact, he quite enjoyed the secondhand feelings of love between the family members, and was content that his relatives didn't treat him poorly.
He was quite happy and thankful for his meditation practice, since it kept him from doing accidental magic, which kept his relatives happy and made sure he had a decent relationship with them. As a result of their good relationship he was allowed to play games with Dudley; Harry made sure a lot of those games involved him and Dudley running around the yard. As a result, Dudley wasn't the fat ball of pudding that was described in the original story.
He also found that, aside from his vision that was messed up by a curse, the rest of his senses were sharpened through his meditation. So he often heard the little mutters and whispers of people around him, even when they didn't intend for him to overhear.
Harry wasn't sure if his slightly better than normal hearing was a result of his magic enhancing his senses, or if it was just a natural result of being able to concentrate better through meditation. Either way, he was happy with it.
'Now, if I could just get rid of this damned Horcrux and regain my perfect sight.' Harry sighed in resignation. He knew it would be a long time before he could rid himself of the fragment of Riddle's soul.
Aunt Petunia put down a plate of breakfast for him and Dudley at the table just as Dudley came running into the kitchen.
"No running in the Kitchen, Dudley!" Petunia snapped.
"Sorry, mum." Dudley sat down at the table and began eating. "Yum!" Dudley mumble-hummed through his food. The boy did like his meals.
Petunia beamed down at her son, before returning to the stove to fix up a plate for her and Vernon.
While Harry ate, he thought once more about the Horcrux. It was something he had pondered off and on over the previous five years.
From the original story he knew there were three methods to get rid of the damned thing. Basilisk venom, Fiendfyre, and the Killing Curse. None of those were methods that he would use willy nilly.
Even the idea of injecting a bit of Basilisk Venom into his scar before using Phoenix Tears to heal the damage after destroying the Horcrux had a lot of risk involved, namely death. There's no way he would make that attempt himself. At the very least he would have a qualified healer on hand to do the procedure.
The idea of trying to control Fiendfyre enough to burn out just the Horcrux was ludicrous. His face would melt before he got rid of the soul piece, no doubt.
And he had no idea if simply casting the Killing Curse on himself would work. Part of the theory why it worked with the original Harry was that since he and Voldemort were so tightly bound and linked together, then Voldemort casting the Killing Curse somehow was seen as suicide? Or something like that. Harry was a bit iffy on the whole situation that Dumbledore manufactured to end the threat of the Dark Lord.
What if Harry cast the Killing Curse on himself and the same thing happened to him? His soul went on, but the fragment was left behind to take over his body. He didn't want to take the chance of that.
So, ultimately Harry was stuck with being a soul jar for Voldemort for the time being. When he finally returned to the Wizarding world at age 11, he would have to start doing some research to see if any of the fanon ideas could work.
Using Occlumency and his magic skills to overcome the Horcrux and plunder if of all of Voldemort's magical knowledge was a favorite idea of his. It would empower him and redress an imbalance between him and Voldemort, namely their knowledge of magic.
But that's where he was stumped, really. The night that Voldemort came to kill Harry, old Riddle was about 55 years old. Which meant that he had 44 years of magical knowledge, experience, and practice.
Throwing his 0 years of magical knowledge and experience into a magical mind battle against a Dark Lord that was renounced for his Dark Arts and Occlumency/Legilimancy skills? What, did he want to commit suicide? He wasn't that big of an idiot.
The only reason the soul piece hadn't already taken him over was that weird Rune Scheme / contract that Lily had set up just before her death.
"Go brush your teeth and grab your school bag. It's time to go to school." Petunia said when she saw that Harry and Dudley were done with their breakfast.
Harry followed Dudley to the bathroom and joined him in brushing his teeth while continuing to think about Lily Potter. Because of the body he was now in, she could be considered his mother. At least half a mother.
When he had been able to really think about the confrontation between Voldemort and Lily, he had wondered and speculated about it. It seemed weird that Voldemort would pause for even a second when he was attacking. Even if he had promised Snape that he would spare Lily for him, Harry didn't believe for a second that, faced with a defiant mother, Voldemort would have paused and entertained those three pleas/demands.
There had to have been some major mojo in those runes to force Voldemort to pause and respond. Harry wondered if it was some type of magical ritual / contract. The moment that Voldemort broke it by trying to kill Harry while still surrounded by the contract, he had suffered the backlash.
'Another thing to try to research when I get older.' Harry thought while he and Dudley were being walked to school by Aunt Petunia. 'See if I can find the books that Lily found that ritual thing in. See if I can find anything of my parents once I get back to the wizarding world.'
While he was sitting through the classes on his first day, only barely paying attention to the easy lessons, Harry was continuing to think about the various ideas about how he could get rid of the Horcrux.
The idea that he could spend a bit of gold paying the Goblins to remove it was great. But he didn't know anything concrete about them. He didn't know how far he could trust their sense of honor and contract, or if they even had the means to remove the soul piece.
If the Goblins could do it, could the Department of Mysteries? St. Mungos? A Native American wizard named something like Bearclaw? (Bearclaw's mother really liked donuts. She was odd like that, to name her son after a pastry.)
Could Harry pay for a muggle surgeon to shave off bits of his skull until they got the Horcrux out?
Could he simply have a doctor stop his heart for a few moments to simulate death, then revive him when the Horcrux died?
There were so many possibilities, and all of them were out of his reach for the time being. He was only six! He had no power or ability to make his own choices in life yet, aside from which clothes he was going to be wearing for the day.
So Harry resigned himself to simply waiting. He would enjoy these simple days as a kid without any worry while he could.
"Psst, Harry!"
Harry looked around and saw Dudley with a couple boys behind him on the playground.
"Yeah?" Harry answered.
"We heard there was a spooky condemned house over on Wisteria lane. We're going to go check it out after school, you in?" Dudley asked, while the other boys were whispering excitedly.
"Yeah, sounds like fun." Harry chuckled. He remembered that when he was a boy in his past life he too had joined some kids while they were exploring a construction site. He had jumped on some boards which broke and one of the ends had somehow stuck into his arm, leaving some big splinters. His parents had to take him to the doctor to get them removed and stitches. So he knew that young boys will be adventurous.
The past few years had been pretty simple, just normal school days. Dudley was actually quite a social person, so he had gathered a group of boys that always had fun playing games after school or just running amok looking for something interesting to do. Harry joined them more often than not, since they at least provided a break from the normal routine of school, homework, etc.
After the final class was over for the day, they were released from the confines of school. Harry met up with the group and they began heading for the abandoned "spooky" house.
The idea to have some fun poking around an abandoned house had seemed like a good idea before. But now that Harry was standing in front of the house, he was starting to have second thoughts.
To either side of the house were normal tract housing. They looked normal and like they were well maintained.
But the house in question looked like it had been standing there for decades without any maintenance done. The paint job had long since faded to a grey rotted wood look. There was a gable roof over the porch where the front door was centered on. There were several windows on the second floor, each of which seems to have been papered over.
Something about the house was really creeping him out. It felt like something was just out of sight, staring intently at him. He felt a shiver go down his spine. He really didn't like the looks of this house.
Apparently the rest of the guys were having a similar reaction. Harry looked over at the other guys who were all standing and staring nervously at the house. Piers, Dennis, Gordon, Malcolm, and Robert were all nervously shifting their feet, but unwilling to be seen a wimp who would back out.
"I don't know about this. That house seems a little too…weird." Harry stated, only then noticing how dry his mouth was.
"Yeah, if Harry thinks it's weird, it must be." Dudley agreed. Over the years he had known Harry, he had never once seen Harry showing fear or being weirded out by anything, no matter how out there what he said was.
"What, you afraid?" Piers sarcastically laughed as he began walking determinedly toward the house. "We said we were exploring this house, so we're exploring it!"
Aside from Dudley and Harry, the rest of the boys trailed along behind Piers. Harry and Dudley exchanged glances.
"Reckon we ought to go with them." Dudley said.
"Yeah. I guess we should, if only to keep them out of trouble." Harry said. He had never understood what people meant before when they were talking about their sixth sense telling them of danger, but he sure did now. Even his magic was warning him going near this house was a bad idea. He had no idea why, and he really didn't want to find out. But he had to at least try to keep the guys out of whatever danger was setting off this feeling.
Harry and Dudley then walked forward. They arrived on the porch when the boys were just opening the front door.
"Hey, it's not even locked!" Piers excitedly exclaimed. "Let's check it out! Maybe there will be some cool treasures or something!"
One by one, the boys filed into the house. Harry was the last to enter. He was looking around nervously, trying to spot just what it was that was making him so jumpy.
The door that Harry had left open deliberately slammed shut at that moment. Harry and the rest of the gang spun around in shock.
"Harry, why'd you slam the door like that? Gave me a heart attack!" Gordon shouted.
"Dude, it wasn't me. I left the door wide open." Harry replied.
"Must have been the wind, then." Robert said.
Everyone but Harry relaxed, now that they had a reasonable explanation. They began poking around the entryway, looking at and making fun of the various paintings on the wall.
Without discussing it, the group of boys decided to stick together while they explored. They left the entry hall and moved to what looked like a room for entertaining guests. There was a piano in one corner of the large room, and chairs and couches arranged in clusters, with white sheets over them.
The groups of boys, even Dudley who had been nervous previously, started relaxing and playing around. They picked up some of the sheets and messed about with them. Dennis moved over to the piano and opened it up so he could plink about on it.
No sounds came from the piano though. The keys didn't even depress, which was another oddity.
"Damn, what's up with this piano!" Dennis exclaimed. "The keys don't even move. Is it so old they got stuck?"
Harry was standing near the other boys, looking at the piano. The rest of the group was focused on Dennis. So Harry was the only one who saw the shape of the white keys change. They lengthened and got sharp.
"Dennis! Get away from the people now!" Harry barked at the boy.
Thankfully Dennis listened to Harry and didn't stupidly stand there asking "What?" Dennis jumped away from the piano just as it opened up like an enormous mouth and tried to bite Dennis. The jaws of the piano monster snapped shut with a discordant clashing of piano notes.
"Ahhh! What the fuck!?" Dennis yelled as he and the rest of the gang ran as fast as they could back to the entrance door. Screw this house! They're getting out!
Harry arrived first at the door to outside and grabbed the handle, trying to open it.
"Shit! It won't open!" Harry called out. The rest of the boys started yelling their own panicked questions, so no one could understand anything.
After a few moments of listening to the panicked babble, Harry shouted loudly for them to shut up!
"This house is weird. We need to figure out how to get out. Look around for something we can use to break a window and climb out." Harry commanded once they had shut up.
"There's this coat rack!" Dudley announced, picking up one of those coat rack stands that was basically pole on a tripod.
"Good, grab that Duds and let's go over to this room and try to break a window." Harry stated while pointing at the room opposite of the piano room. They could still hear the chomping banging of the piano in the room they had ran from.
Dudley picked up the coat rack stand, and they all rushed over to the room Harry had indicated. It looked like it was a room set up for indoor plants. Potted plants were everywhere. The ivy vines and flowers in the pots looked particularly fake to Harry, like they weren't real plants, but decoys meant to deceive someone.
Keeping an eye on the fake plants, Harry urged Dudley to smash open a window. Dudley reared back and threw the coat rack with all his 9 year old strength at the nearest window.
The coat rack bounced off the window with no damage done.
The group of boys were all looking between the window and the coat rack, jaws agape. That should have broken the window.
"Let's try again. This time you help me Robert, since you're the strongest of us besides me." Dudley said.
Dudley and Robert picked up the coat rack, one on each side. They backed away and got a running start and smashed the coat rack into the window. The window didn't even get a scratch, but the impact shocked Dudley and Robert's hands.
"Ow! Dammit!"
"Damn that hurts!"
The two boys complained about their hands stinging.
"This isn't good. Something in this house wants us to stay and be dinner, or something." Harry muttered to himself. He suddenly realized that his magic was acting very frantically inside him. "Well, if there was ever a time for accidental magic, now is the time!" He decided.
Harry then picked up the coat rack. He tried to force his magic to fill up the coat rack, strengthen it with the concept of a battering ram. A battering ram on a huge wheeled contraption that is driven by 20, no 50 tanks. The battering ram is strong, it is inevitable. Nothing can stand against it!
Harry charged forward with a yell, slamming his Battering Ram into the window. With a crunching sound, the window broke, crumpling up like glass never would have and falling out of the window frame.
"Quick, everyone out!" Harry yelled as he saw the fake plants begin to move and stretch out toward them. Harry dropped the battering ram to the side and grabbed Dudley to pull him out of the house. His relatives would never forgive him if he didn't at least get Dudley out!
The boys, almost in one bunch, all jumped out the window and didn't stop running until they were nearly a block away from the house. They were all bent over, gasping for breath and still filled with fear about the close call they had.
Harry looked over the lads, and frowned.
"Hey, where is Robert?" He asked.
"Who?" Piers asked.
"Robert! Where is he?"
"Dude, we don't know any Robert." Gordon said, looking at Harry like he was wondering what the joke was.
"None of you know Robert?" Harry asked, feeling a rising sense of horror.
"No. This is the whole gang." Dudley confirmed for Harry. "Where are you going, Harry?"
"I'm checking that house. I don't think Robert got out."
"What house?" Malcolm asked.
Harry whipped back around to stare incredulously at the group of boys.
"What do you mean, 'what house'? The house we just escaped from!" Harry shouted.
"Dude, what do you mean? What house did we escape from? I thought we ran from a dog." Gordon said.
"Yeah, it was a pretty mean dog that chased us for a bit, that's why we're so out of breath." Piers added on, although Harry saw that his gaze was a bit unfocused.
"Yeah, it as even worse than Aunt Marge's dog, Ripper." Dudley added in a slightly confused tone of voice.
"Shit." Harry subvocalized. There was definitely some mojo going on here. "I'm going to check something out." Harry then marched back to where they had just escaped from the house.
After turning the corner, he only saw an empty lot. There was no sign that there had ever been a house there. Harry had chills running down his back. The house disappeared and no one remembered Robert McKinnon but him. A thought occurred to Harry, and he began jogging down the streets to Robert's house.
The group of boys confusedly followed behind him. They weren't sure just what had happened to Harry, but he was acting pretty odd.
A few minutes later, they arrived at Robert's house. He was an only boy, so his parents had given him plenty of toys, which were strewn around the yard.
When they arrived, Harry saw Robert's dad just setting a box full of Robert's things on the curb.
"Hey, you're some neighborhood boys I've seen around, yeah?" When Mr. McKinnon saw them, he smiled and waved at the boys like he had never met them before, even though they had spent plenty of afternoons at Robert's house in the past three years.
"Either someone has been playing a prank on my wife and me, or we just never got around to cleaning out that room when we moved in!" He jovially said. "There was a bunch of toys and whatnot just lying around in that room. If you want, you can have some of this stuff. If not, it'll get thrown with the trash."
Carl gaped at the box of Robert's stuff that his dad was setting out. Apparently his parents had also forgotten Robert. They had moved into the neighborhood over six years ago. But now he was coming up with some excuse of not cleaning a room for six years to cover the gap in his memory.
"Cool!"
"Hey, dibs on the glove."
"Thanks, Mr. McKinnon!"
Harry just stood frozen as he watched the rest of the guys going through Robert's things and grabbing what they wanted without a care. No one remembered Robert but him.
"I think I'll just take this." Harry muttered when he saw one of Robert's footy trophies in the box. It had his name on it, and even a picture of Robert in a frame next to it.
He would keep the picture and trophy as a memorial to Robert. Even if no one else remembered him, Harry would. He worked hard to keep tears from falling, so no one would ask him what was wrong.
They split up after a bit and went to their separate homes. Harry found a place on his shelves and put the trophy and picture there. The boy that disappeared from everyone's mind when he got caught by that house.
Later that evening, after dinner, Harry was staring at the trophy, cementing in his mind all the times he had with Robert. The kid hadn't even gotten out of primary.
It made him wonder, really. There was no mention of Robert anywhere in the original story. All the other members of his and Dudley's group of friends were mentioned. Did this happen in the original story? Was Robert dared by the group to go in alone, and he disappeared from their minds and life, as if he had never been?
For the first time, Harry really truly understood just how dangerous the world of magic could be.
It took Harry quite some time to get over the depressed funk that losing Robert had put him in. Every time he looked at the trophy, he wondered just why he didn't stay to make sure they all got out. He had grabbed Dudley and run. What would be different if he had acted a bit different. Would he have been able to save Robert?
While the saying "Time heals all wounds" was true, it doesn't touch on the part where they leave behind scars. As time passed, Harry eventually realized that he had to eventually let go and live his life. He couldn't be lost in the what ifs, should haves, and if onlys.
So while he would always remember Robert, who was a friend for three years while he was in primary, he had to live his life. Harry comforted himself with thinking that Robert would have slugged him in the arm and called him a pussy if he saw how mopey Harry was being.
Life returned easily to the normal routine of school, school work, chores, and meditation.
The only change, really, was that Harry was working harder on his meditation now. He was working to gain a closer control and feel for his magic.
The brush with death and how close he had come to being forgotten to anyone in the world caused Harry to feel a sense of crises. He only survived and saved Dudley and the rest of the guys through his magic. And he had been sitting back all this time while growing up, wasting the opportunity to train it, or use it, or figure out wandless magic or something.
Sure, he had been practicing meditation, but he had long since plateaued on his skill there, and he wasn't pushing himself to experiment and learn more.
His reasons had been good, or rather his excuses. He hadn't wanted to accidentally do something that would scare the Dursleys. His relationship with them was only as good as it was because he had avoided any magical accidents happening, which would have caused them to fear him, or take their fear and anger out on him.
So he had been reluctant to rock the boat and experiment where they could find out.
But now in the aftermath of the House Incident, he felt like he was wasting his potential, wasting his time, and that if he didn't get a move on, he would die an ignoble death that he could have prevented with a bit more magical skill or ability.
Which led to Harry being out early on a Saturday morning at the local park. Dudley was home playing some games or watching telly or something. Looking around, he saw that he was pretty much alone. Some older people were walking around, but they were pretty far away.
Closing his eyes, Harry felt his magic as it flowed through him. It felt like a deep river at the moment, while he was calm. When he had used his magic to fortify his Battering Ram, his magic had been quite agitated and gushing forth like a waterfall.
Harry worked to rile up his magic, to bring it forth and use it. His imagery of the massive battering ram had worked, so he felt like the intent and imagery was the most important thing in directing his magic.
Once he had gotten his magic riled up, he opened his eyes and looked around. There wasn't really anything he wanted to break, smash, change, or rip up around him in the park. He didn't want to leave a mess and evidence of what he would do with his magic.
What if he turned it inward, though? He was thinking of how there seemed to be dark rituals to permanently change and enhance someone, if Voldemort was any indication. So if there was magic to permanently change someone, couldn't he use his magic to temporarily boost himself?
It worked for the ninjas of the Naruto comic, and magic is much more versatile than chakra, so Harry was hoping it would work.
Closing his eyes again, Harry focused on the idea of magic enhancing his muscles with extra strength, speed, durability and endurance. He used his long years of meditation practice to focus on just that one idea, of enhancing his body with magic.
He let the magic flow and do what he was asking. He felt an immediate change. It was like he was suffused with power.
He opened his eyes and began running. He took off like a shot, tearing down the green of the park. Seeing a bench nearby, he jumped over it and went soaring. He had freaking springs in his legs!
His concentration was ruined by his elation and fun, and the magic receded from him, causing him to stumble mid stride and go tumbling.
Harry lay on his back, catching his breath from the tumble. He began laughing crazily. It worked! He could enhance himself to be harder, better, faster, stronger!
'Now I just need to master this and I'll be much more prepared to protect myself.' Harry thought as he climbed to his feet to have another go.
He soon got into the mindset he needed to improve his concentration. He soon had the magic flowing and enhancing his body once more.
"That was definitely too slow. I need to be much faster than that at embracing this power." Harry whispered. Since it left no outward sign of what was happening, Harry knew he could practice it anywhere. In class, in his room, or even while he was walking. "Just as long as I don't do this on the playground. Besides letting people see me using superhuman abilities, I don't want to chance hurting anyone."
Harry then started practicing activating his body enhancement at a faster speed. He was hoping to get it to less than a second by the time he left for Hogwarts.
Time continued to pass by relatively quickly for Harry. He kept up with his studies and occupied himself with training his magic and body enhancement use of magic. He soon became adept at being several times stronger than a normal boy his age.
The more he practiced, the faster he got at activating his magic enhancement, and the longer he was able to hold the enhancement magic. Soon enough simply running around the park wasn't enough for him, since there were a distinct lack of obstacles for him to use as practice.
So he had to figure out a way so that he could free run around the neighborhood without being noticed. The neighborhood was chock full of unrepentant gossips. If anyone saw him doing something unusual, word would immediately get back to his Aunt, and there would go all the hard work he had put into having a good relationship with his relatives.
So he began practicing deploying an S.E.P. field. The Someone Else's Problem field would keep people from paying attention to him and what he did. Since magic seemed to run on intent, he figured he had a decent chance of creating an effect that would follow his desires to be unnoticed.
The problem he ran into was how was he to test it? Asking anyone to be his test dummy was right out. But where could he practice the SEP field where he wouldn't get in trouble for being there, but would have an immediate answer as to whether it was working?
Harry wracked his brains for an answer, and it soon popped into his mind. Old man Dustan! He was halfway down the neighborhood and he was absolutely fanatical about his lawn. Whatever he did in his house all day was a mystery, but he always kept half an eye out for neighborhood kids that walked on his lawn. If he saw anyone daring to touch his lawn, he would immediately burst out of his door and chase the kid down.
He never actually beat any kids if he caught them, he knew he would get in trouble with the law. But he would give them such a telling off while dragging them to their homes, the kids would completely avoid his place from then on.
So when Harry thought he had the SEP field down, he made a trip to old man Dustan's place. Focusing his concentration on the SEP field, he slowly approached the lawn of doom. Without losing his concentration, his work with the physical enhancements had improved Harry's concentration greatly, he reached a foot out and stepped on the lawn.
Nothing happened. Old man Dustan never came out. Just to be sure it was his SEP field working, and not that something was distracting the cantankerous coot, Harry dropped his SEP field.
The door banged open immediately! The old man came charging out, straight over his lawn.
'Crazy old man! He walks on it just fine, but doesn't let anyone else do so.' Carl thought as he put the SEP field up again while preparing to run if it didn't work.
The old man took another couple of steps, before starting to look around in confusion, unsure of just what he was doing. After looking around to be sure that no one was around, he sniffed and turned around. After he entered his house and slammed the door shut, Harry started chuckling.
He decided to put some distance between him and that crazy old man first. While he was walking away, Harry started working on the next step of his training plan.
He had done a great job of training himself to concentrate on one thing, and then he added his magic into the mix and was able to get the results he wanted from concentrating on that thing.
But how was he to run crazy through the neighborhood shouting "Parkour!" if he couldn't do two spells at the same time?
So he needed to learn how to concentrate to have his SEP field up, while also keeping his physical enhancement magic going. In a way he was already doing it, since he had been practicing his meditation while paying attention in class, or walking, and other things.
He just needed to allocate enough concentration on both spells to make sure his magic did what he wanted. That was another thing he had discovered. That a certain amount of concentrating on the spell needed to be done to keep it stead and not drop it. So having the requisite amount of concentration on both spells at the same time would be difficult, but not impossible.
And he was sure this practice would help him when he got to Hogwarts. How much easier it would make the spells they learned there, he wasn't sure. But he was still excited to go to a magic school of people he had read about! His childhood friends and heroes, come to life!