AN: Here is the next chapter for you guys. More chapters are available to read, link is in my bio for my discord community from where you can get access.

Enjoy this one!

-_._ .

Bellatrix Black looked down at the sleeping form of her godson with a frown. Sitting at the edge of the bed, she removed some of the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead as she took in his youthful face with barely controlled exasperation.

It had been a week in this quaint neighbourhood and she thought he'd have had his fill by now. But that hadn't been the case. She'd let him stay for seven days in this distasteful place and on the eighth, she'd eagerly awaited his arrival in the Grimmauld Place but he hadn't come.

So she'd decided do something she hadn't done since he went to Hogwarts.

And here she was, tiptoeing to his room in Privet Drive, wanting to know just why was he delaying leaving this place. She knew his sleep schedule and had wanted to surprise him before he went to bed. But she had been wrong and he'd already retired.

And now, she had even more questions, because now that she had taken a look at him, he looked different.

Warring with indecision, she shook her head. A large part of her told her to wake him up and have the conversation right then and there, just like old times while the other, the more rational part, she decided to call it, wanted her to leave quietly so she could come back in the morning.

Knowing what was the right thing to do, she sighed and began to tiptoe back towards the door. But the decision was taken out of her hands when she had to whip her wand in an arc to absorb a dangerous throttling curse aimed at her back.

"Harry!" she exclaimed in surprise and alarm.

"What the fuck?!" came the agitated voice of her godson.

"It's me, Aunt Bella!" she pleaded from behind her shield.

Harry stopped casting and looked around as he fumbled about the room. She didn't know what he was doing until the room was flooded with bright light and she was almost blinded.

When her eyes adjusted, she blushed beet red as she took in the half naked form of her godson, with wand hanging limply at his side, now looking at her as if she were mad, while waiting for an explanation that she was just too confused to muster.

-_- .

After his visit to the Gryffindor common room, Harry had decided to take a detour, a rather large one at that, within the Hogwarts castle as it was already late enough that the chances of getting caught was significantly reduced.

After taking a satisfactory stroll in the Great Hall and a few classrooms on the first floor, he took his second ever descent into the dungeons where the Slytherin common room was located. To say that he had been shocked that the Harry Potter in this world was a snake would be an understatement, but still, he'd never expected the boy to be as naive, cowardly and easily manipulated as he'd been told. The Slytherins had never surprised him with their cruelty in his own world, and this world didn't seem any different as the other Harry had taken the brunt of the most vicious sides of his housemates.

Regardless, that was a problem for a later date, one that he refused to let dampen his mood.

The grounds seemed familiar enough, along with the little hut that the gentle half-giant slept within. The Black Lake was as mysterious as ever as he absently recalled that the Triwizard Tournament will be scheduled to be held in this year.

It was with some reluctance that he left Hogwarts to take a casual stroll through Hogsmeade and then Diagon Alley, only venturing to the adjacent Knockturn Alley on a whim when he'd been satisfied with the state of the two popular wizarding districts. He couldn't help but be relieved that a large part of the world seemed to be the same.

However, he knew he shouldn't celebrate too early, things always seemed to have a way of surprising him in the worst of ways and it'd be foolish to not be on his guard and take this...opportunity a day at a time.

So it was then that he made his way to his last stop for the day, his childhood prison, having only a vague idea from the other Harry that he was treated like the part of the family by the Dursleys and not like a castoff that had no business interrupting the normal lives of upstanding citizens.

Keeping his expectations low as always, he'd entered the house and had been promptly surprised when he'd been ushered into the warm dining room where his Aunt Petunia was just finishing cooking up dinner. He didn't think too much of it and spoke as little as possible to the exceedingly polite and normal queries of his Uncle and Aunt.

When he'd retired to his room, he'd had enough of the strangeness of his circumstances that he decided to put off going through the other Harry's things tomorrow, remembering that he still had to read through his journals to familiarize himself with this strange world.

However, it seemed that the excitement of the day had yet to reach its climax.

For no sooner did he try to relax and sleep that he was assaulted with a blinding pain in his scar, his forehead threatening to split into two from the pain. His scar had started bleeding then and Harry had realized that this was probably only the first of the many surprises of this new life.

He didn't know what was happening, only that his pain made him thrash uselessly on the bed, reaching to thresholds beyond anything he'd ever had to tolerate, much worse than the Cruciatus that he'd endured from the Dark Lord.

Only through sheer strength of will had he stopped himself from crying out at the top of his voice and waking the household, and only in the morning did he realize that in this process he'd repeatedly bitten his tongue quite painfully.

It could've been hours or minutes since the pain began before it began to recede to a dull throb and Harry found himself slipping into unconsciousness. It wasn't until six hours later that he found that disregarding the pain in his forehead, his head suddenly seemed lighter and his eyes clearer to the point that he no longer needed his glasses to see more than ten feet along.

After a long warm shower and some hearty breakfast, which he'd still had trouble believing, and ignoring some weirdly intrusive stares from Petunia, he retired to his room and begun to take stock of his new life.

His scar had faded to a thin line overnight and his head felt as if it had shed a major burden and was no longer...restrained. Yes, that was the word, he decided, that aptly described the feeling he was experiencing. It wasn't that he'd suddenly gained some new superpowers, it was more like he felt more like himself, more in control, and just more free than ever before.

It was inexplicable, this feeling, and he was left to wonder if this was the only side effect he was supposed to be experiencing from his troublesome scar. Before last night, whenever his scar erupted, it haunted him mentally and physically for days, and now, it was the stark opposite.

Anyhow, putting aside the issue of the scar, he was pleasantly surprised and in many instances, shocked, to discover the other Harry's experiences in this world. He'd started writing since he was just nine, and reading the private thoughts of his counterpart was both helpful and...frustrating.

Once such frustration was the issue of his Aunt Bella. The Harry of this world had been close to his godmother, her role often taking the form of a dear friend and confidant to his lone self. She was kind, caring, loyal and immensely protective of Harry, and bore no resemblance to the insane witch of his world who had killed his godfather without remorse.

That frustration and his inability to determine how to behave around her was the reason was standing at the foot of his bed with his wand in hand, glaring at the witch who'd invited herself to his room in the middle of the night and was now looking at him with a mixture of shock and apology.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I thought you'd be awake," she said softly, contrition apparent in both her tone and expression.

Harry exhaled noisily through his mouth, a habit he'd picked up while training in the Room of Requirement. "What do you need, Bella?"

He'd carefully modulated his tone to keep the anger out, and was grateful to see that it had the intended effect on the older witch and she sighed.

"I wanted to talk to you about your stay here. It's been too long and I was expecting you at the Grimmauld today."

Harry pursed his lips. "And that couldn't wait until the morning?"

He hoped he didn't sound accusatory. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate someone who cared about him in this new world.

"No, I just thought we'll talk like old times..." she began listlessly, turning towards the door. "Obviously, I was wrong to come at this indecent hour. Forgive me for disturbing your sleep, Harry."

Before he could so much as utter a word, she'd left the room.

"Wait!"

He ran after her, quickly grabbing a shirt while cursing about moody and frustrating females.

Bella was already at the bottom of the stairs as he climbed down two at a time. Bella looked at him with such an adorably sulky expression that he cursed inwardly. If this wasn't proof that this world was the diametric opposite of his own, he'll be damned.

"Goddamn it, Bella! Will you stop!" he whispered furiously. "We can talk now."

Bella looked at him uncertainly. "Are you sure, Harry?"

Her godson nodded, gently taking her by the arm. "Let's go back to my room. I'm awake and I'd rather know immediately what made you visit me at this indecenthour."

Bella frowned slightly but smiled and as he took her to sit beside him on the bed, absently noting how her eyes observed him as he made some space beside the duvet.

"You look different." She looked at him from head to toe. "And you've grown!"

Harry knew he'll have to work harder to blend in with his previous self, but getting caught so easily grated on him all the same. Obviously, telling her the truth was out of the question, so he chose a version of the truth instead.

"I've been trying to be. I've found that some nice long overdue reflections have made me reconsider how I want to live my life."

Bella peered worriedly at him. "Are you okay, Harry? Did something happen at Hogwarts?"

Yes, but thatcouldn't be said out loud. So he hid the truth.

"Nothing major. Some of the priorities in my life have shifted. I'm trying to be a better wizard."

That was true enough. He had one too many things he wanted to rectify both from his previous and this new life.

Bella took his hand in her own. "You are one of the best wizards and men I know, Harry," she assured him, "If something did happen, you'll talk to me, right? I promise I'll help you, or find someone who can."

She looked so invested in his well-being that Harry was stunned speechless for a moment. Slightly self-conscious now, he sighed, trying to find words to describe his predicament without divulging the unbelievable details.

"I will, I swear," he replied hoarsely. Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug, his nose resting in her hair, inhaling deeply, a unique scent comprising of a mixture of lavender and ash overwhelming him for a second. "I've realized that I've spent too long ignoring what's important and permanent for what's useless and fleeting. Too long I've been trying hard to fit in a world which doesn't care about me. Well, no more. Now, I'm only going to be living life by my own principles and no one will stop me."

The determination in his own voice almost took him aback. Pulling back, he regarded Bella who was looking at him with shock and...what was it? Hope?

She ruffled his messy hair and chuckled, "You aredifferent!"

Harry narrowed his eyes, his mouth set in a teasing line. "How so?"

She burst into a tinkling laugh. Harry regarded her with admiration. It was impossible to not like this Bellatrix Black.

"It's the small things, like how you're talking and how serious you've become suddenly. I'll admit, it's a nice improvement. Last time I saw you, I was afraid you'll never partake in anything but jokes and silly banter with me. And look at you now!"

Harry was glad his changes could be attributed to the infernal teenage hormones and puberty. He also wished he'd had enough time to read all the journals to the present day, because he had no idea when he'd seen Bella last.

"I'm sure I was not that bad," he said, attempting some humour.

Bella shook her head, still smiling. "Of course not, Harry. But I'll never complain if you maintain this... intensity." And then she seemed to suddenly get a twinkle in her eyes. "It'll definitely help you snag a witch or two."

Harry snorted, giving her an unimpressed stare.

Bella's eyes widened. "Don't tell me. You already did!"

It was the disbelief in her tone that irritated him. Sure, he'd fucked Ginny once, but he didn't even know if you could consider that as "snagging a witch". He certainly had different reasons in his mind during the encounter anyway. And, he thought faintly, he didn't even know if there was a Ginny Weasley in this world.

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

Bella didn't answer, instead she simply scooted closer as if they were going to be discussing a great secret. "Tell me everything!"

Harry folded his arms defensively, not letting his embarrassment show. "What makes you think that I'd like to discuss it?"

Bella pouted. "Are you suddenly so experienced that you don't need your poor old Aunt Bella anymore?"

Harry decided this had gone on long enough. "You know that's not true. And I'll be sure to consult you when I'm next in need of seducing a witch."

Bella raised an eyebrow, her cheeks reddening a bit and relented. It was to her credit that she didn't avert her eyes. "Alright mister. I'll let it go for now. But you do owe me some details later."

Harry cleared his throat. This conversation had gone in a completely different direction than he'd been expecting. His love life was the last thing he'd ever thought he'll be discussing with another human out loud, let alone with...

But then again, far more unexpected things had happened. So he shouldn't be surprised. Not really.

Bella seemed to go from confident to uncertain in the next moment. "Are you coming to the Grimmauld Place today?" she asked softly.

Harry nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "Around dinner time. I just have a few things to do first."

"I'll come fetch you then," she said happily and stood up.

In an unexpected bout of confidence, Harry took her arm and place it within the crook of his own and led her downstairs to the front door. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Bella's surprised look but chose to ignore it.

It seemed he'd already made a good impression on someone he was supposed to be the closest to. Things will only progress nicely from here, he decided firmly.

After she'd left, their conversation stayed within his head for another hour before he could feel his neglected sleep come knocking again.

-_- .

It was nearing noon when Harry was finally able to get through the last of the journals. It had been a lot to absorb, especially the parts which detailed some instances of his difficult relationship with his family, his few friends who sounded extremely selfish and opportunistic and finally, his more baser desires and escapades which left him both shocked and frustrated.

Shocked because the other Harry sounded exactly like what a careless teenager would do and wish for if he didn't have the burden of tragedy and responsibilities from an early age. His words felt both childish and mature at different times.

But a larger, more dominant part of Harry was frustrated because he was less than three days into this new world and already some of his own deepest, darkest desires seemed to match that of his younger counterpart. Not only that, but now, Harry felt confident enough to act upon them at his will which only added to his frustration.

Normally, he'll never be able to dedicate any time to something as unimportant as his physical needs, such things were never the top priority for him. But now, he felt little reason to not pursue them. He was free, after all.

And that freedom extended to every other area of life too, from which he could only foresee untold advantages.

It was with a mixture of excitement and trepidation that he finished packing his belongings into his trunk to carry to his more permanent home at the Grimmauld Place. If he had his way, he'll never be setting foot in this house again.

-_- .

Petunia Dursley was afraid. As she bustled about the kitchen preparing lunch, her thoughts presented things that made little sense to her. One major dilemma that was eating at her was the fact that her nephew looked different.

When she'd last bid him goodbye in January, he'd been a shy little kid, soft spoken and demure. He never spoke unless spoken to, offered little in the way of his own opinions and kept mostly to himself all the time, locked away in his own room.

But in the last three days, she had seen a completely new side of her nephew. So different was he that seemed like a completely different person, as if something good or terrible had happened to him. Something freakish.

The most unsettling change in him though was something completely ordinary for a boy his age. A change so commonplace that nobody will pay a second thought to it, especially since teenagers were supposed to be like that. But it had the opposite effect on her.

He had begun to smile more.

And combining it with his freakishness, it was most unnatural. And it had taken control of her senses. She hated and loved it with equal measure. In fact, she didn't know what to do about it at all!

Just thinking about those smiles sent shivers up her back.

She'd tried her best to put it aside in her mind, keep those smiles away for when she was alone, when she could enjoy them privately but failed, utterly and miserably.

Oh why couldn't he be like that friend of Dudley's? Piers, she thought, was a sweet boy who always obeyed every command she gave him without question. Especially when she made it a habit of inviting him and her dear Diddidums to lunch often. And often, when Dudley had to leave for his Boxing classes, she'll have Piers all to herself, and such a good company that boy was! So sweet and normal...and fun.

But Harry? He was a freak. But he was a freak who never failed to vex her.

It was all due to those freaks that his mother kept the company of, she thought. The boy had been so good and trusting until last year but those freaks had taken him for the third year in a row to go to that freak school of hers and ruined him.

And now, she didn't know how to get him to-

"Harry!" she squealed in surprise.

Two rough hands were suddenly travelling along the her waist, touching and caressing as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

She squirmed, her hands finding support on the counter as the foreign touch left her breathless and panting in frustration and...need.

"What are...you doing?" she asked with a shuddering exhale.

His hands seemed to gain even more strength in their touch as her body practically melted in into their burning touch. Her eyes shut and her body flush between the counter and his own, she gulped.

"Just what you need, Petunia," he murmured against her ear and she cried out.

Her words died in her throat as his touch attained an urgency it didn't have before, bathing her in ecstasy.

Whatever this was, it was miles better than anything she'd ever had with any of Dudley's sweet friends.

She moaned as her breasts finallycaught the attention of his touch, bringing her more pleasure than she could handle. She shivered and pushed back against his hard body, his chest providing the kind of pleasurable support she so desperately needed.

It wasn't until moments later when she realized something long and hard pressing into her most intimate of areas from behind, and she involuntarily ground against it, seeking the friction to satisfy the deep ache within her stomach.

"I need something from you, Petunia."

His voice made her shudder and she did the only thing she could, which is sag against his ministrations in pleasure.

"Do you know what?"

With his words, she felt his long, hard length pressing into her and she nodded, finally understanding both their desires.

"Good, give it to me."

She turned around and dropped down to her knees, her hands working to relieve him of his belt. It was only moments later that his rock hard magnificence was slapping her cheek as if teasing her, daring her to do what she so needed.

So she did. And Harry's resulting moan filled her with satisfaction.

"That's good, Petunia. Now, look at me."

His command was firm and clear and although she struggled, her eyes met his and she continued working her mouth in all the ways she knew to see his eyes fill with same desire that she could swear was coursing through her own.

But the desire was left to the back of her mind when suddenly, memories upon memories of years gone past began assaulting her, overwhelming her. As if sensing her discomfort, his soothing voice provided a helping hand, a balm to her senses that she was doing good. That he was pleased and he didn't need anything else except the pleasing caresses of her hands and mouth.

She saw herself reliving the day she was given Harry to raise when he was but a toddler of three, the years she'd spent making sure he hated freak sister Lily and her freak husband as much as she did, helping raise him to the ideal standards of normalcy that she herself grew up to.

Harry had always been a good boy, never raised his voice and always did well in school. She felt proud of him then, even if her own Diddidums was barely passing in most subjects. There had been a few bouts of his freakishness as he grew up, but under her supervision, they'd been disregarded as the Devil's influence and a visit to the Church later, it was forgotten. It did take some careful explanation as to why such freakishness wasn't tolerable in normal society but Harry was always a good boy and he understood.

Sure, the hatred of his parents cultivated in him a healthy hatred of freakishness that he may unfortunately have gotten from them, in the end, all was well. Or all had been well, until that freak godfather of his had found them and put an end to all the she and Vernon had instilled in him since they'd had him.

And before she could comprehend what had happened, Harry was off to that freak school in Scotland and out of her and Vernon's reach and influence. And ten months later, he came back as a completely new person.

He was slightly more confident now, liked to bring up more unnatural tales of his freakish school and freak friends. But at least, his hatred of Lily and her husband was still alive. In fact, it had become even more pronounced as he sought Petunia out to hear more tales of her sister's freakishness and how she'd alienated Petunia as soon as she'd gotten her letters on her eleventh birthday.

She'd encouraged him to maintain as little contact as possible with Lily and her family, and he'd listened to her and trusted her judgement. He did have after all, a prime example of betrayal from her and her husband when they'd agreed to send him away on the Old man's suggestions.

When he came back from his second year, he had become a little more secretive and in his third year, he'd become so silent and she'd despaired that the boy she knew and raised was being slowly taken away from her.

It was probably because of his freak godmother who liked to pay most infuriating announced visits to her home and tried to question her about details on his living arrangements. Her questions were most insulting and she would have liked to give the freak a lesson in manners but couldn't. Because the woman was mad, absolutely mad. And she terrified her like no other.

With violet eyes, a lithe, curvaceous figure, high, well-defined aristocratic cheekbones and a sharp tongue, she was everything Petunia had dreamed of becoming when she was a little girl. And this...freak woman was the embodiment of everything she wasn't and more and having one of her death glares directed at her chilled her to the bone.

Petunia could swear she was the reason Harry had changed so much that she almost didn't recognize him.

But before she could reminisce some more, she was pulled back to the present and absently, she realized that her eyes were burning and her chest heaving. She could smell something warm and metallic dripping from her eyes but she paid it no mind as she had better things to do, or rather, a better thing to please.

It was when she'd consumed every last drop of his delicious essence that her mind was filled with a warm voice that sent tingles up her spine.

"Petunia, do you know what I want you to do?"

She frowned in confusion before memories assaulted her mind once more, plunging her into some unfamiliar depths of despair and rage. Never before had she been so enraged at her husband and her son. What had they been thinking?!

It was because of them that Harry had turned out the way he is. It was because of them he felt so unloved and so miserable for eleven years of his life. It was because of her and her family that Harry had to endure a childhood so traumatic that he still sometimes had nightmares of suffocating in the cupboard.

A tiny voice at the back of her mind told her that she'd never put Harry in the cupboard below the stairs but that voice was quickly snuffed out of existence and the more forceful and dominant rage consumed her.

By the time she was back on her feet, her hands were shaking from fury.

"Do you know what I want you to do?" Harry asked again, his eyes glowing a vivid green that made her want to obey him immediately.

She knew exactly what she wanted, nay, needed to do. She had to right the wrongs. She had to do right by Harry. A fiery determination consumed her and she nodded resolutely.

"I'll kill my husband and Dudley as soon as they come home."

Harry smiled. She shivered in pleasure. "And then?" he asked.

"And then I'll blow up this house," Petunia replied firmly.

Harry embraced her. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia. You're awesome."

She smiled. "Of course, Harry, anything for you."

"Goodbye."

Harry walked out of the door, not deigning to look back.

-_- .