Time passed quickly as Harry successfully managed to push the thought to the back of his mind. Chores, eat, return. Chores, eat, return. He let it all blend together for a while. Before he knew it, it was a week from his birthday.

He had almost forgotten about his Hogwarts letter, so focused on his chores and work around the house. He was quickly reminded when he heard Aunt Petunia's shriek from the front door.

Uncle Vernon was at work, as usual for this time of the day. Harry carefully peeked out of his crawlspace, looking towards the source of the shriek.

Aunt Petunia was holding a letter… HIS letter, in her hand, glaring at it with a terrified look as if it was a ticking bomb. She was holding it at arm's length, a look of utter revulsion on her face.

Harry for a moment thought that she was going to rip it up, the idea obviously crossing her mind. However, after a moment, she stormed over to the crawlspace before wrenching it open. "Get out here, you little freak!"

Harry shuddered. His Aunt was in the worst mood she'd been in years. This wasn't good.

As he crawled from the crawlspace, he yelped as his Aunt grabbed a handful of his scraggly black hair. The rough movement yanked him completely out of the crawlspace, as she shoved the letter in his face, ignoring the tears of pain in Harry's eyes.

"You listen to me, you filthy little freak. You are to write them back and say that you will not be going to this disgusting, freaky school of theirs. I don't need you to get any ideas of practicing those abhorrent abilities of yours!" Aunt Petunia half screamed, half spat at him.

Harry's eyes continued to water in a mix of the last few flashes of pain from his scalp and having his hopes dashed. He fought back the growing sob in his chest, as he knew not to cry when Aunt Petunia was in one of her "moods".

Reaching out, he took the letter and gave a light mumble. His Aunt practically threw him back into the crawlspace, tossing a pen and some old paper in with him and slamming the small door.

Harry shuddered as he rubbed his burning scalp before hearing a light hiss from the shadows where his snake had made its nest. §§Sssspeaker's nessstmates dangerousssss. Big man nice, but other two have air of darknessssss.§§

Harry sniffed a bit before shaking his head. "She's not always like that. Just… most of the time." Harry said softly as he picked up the pen and paper. He gently opened the letter, HIS letter, before reading it carefully.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class; Grand Sorc.; Chf. Warlock; Supreme Mugwump of the International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry wiped away the last of his tears before looking over all of the titles of the headmaster. So this was his Hogwarts letter? Mister Dark had said this was where his mother and father went! He started to get excited before he remembered what his Aunt had said.

Then, he stopped, his hand moving to stroke the python's head as it moved into his lap. Could she even tell him not to go? Uncle Vernon was his guardian since he was the man of the house, right? Maybe he could talk to him, convince him to allow him to go.

Having a new idea, Harry considered his options.

While he was at school, he read books on different subjects, but one of them had a portion that said the man of the house was the one in charge of the family. And if he was secretive about it, he could probably ask Uncle Vernon tonight!

His Aunt would be furious that he went to Uncle Vernon to override her. However, he had never done anything like this before, so she wouldn't expect him to do it. that might just give him the break he needed.

making up his mind, Harry finally decided that was what he was going to do. He'd have to be secretive, but the plan would work. He was sure of it!

As Aunt Petunia opened the crawl space door, he hurried out to get working on his chores before setting the letter down in his bed.

"Did you write the letter, freak?" Aunt Petunia's scathing comment made Harry flinch back, half expecting her to grab his hair again.

"I-I started, Aunt Petunia, but I w-wanted to get my other chores done first. Like you told me I should d-do." Harry stammered back. He knew what buttons to press and how to get his Aunt buttered up.

Harry saw his tactic pay off immediately as his Aunt was nearly immediately placated. "As you should. Get to work, and don't let me hear any complaints. Off with you." Harry could see a smirk of self-satisfaction as he hurried off.

Such a tactic didn't help his pride, but it certainly helped to calm his Aunt down. Perhaps that's all that mattered.

Harry got to work, finding that having the letter waiting for him gave him a powerful incentive. He found himself scrubbing everything until they sparkled, using his magic here and there to assist with the work.

It was always fun to have his magic help, ever since he started consciously being able to call it. It was like a small, fluffy creature wanting to come to his aid, hidden under the soapsuds of the filled kitchen sink. He had never been caught even once using his magic, and he planned to keep it that way.

The sun rose into the sky, marching across the horizon. It didn't take long for the warm afternoon heat to begin to cool into a light evening breeze, and shortly after Harry heard his Uncle's car pull into the driveway. Dudley rushed to the door to give his father a hug as Harry wrung the water from the rag he had been using into the sink before he put it into the basket to be cleaned.

Letting Aunt Petunia and Dudley tell Uncle Vernon about their day, Harry waited for Uncle Vernon to sit down for a cup of tea, hurrying over to serve it to him. Harry's movements were fluid, dancing around Dudley's attempt to trip him. He had gotten quite talented at that.

The tea steamed in the cup he had brought for his uncle. One lump of sugar and a splash of milk. Uncle's favorite. The large man accepted the proffered tea and sipped it carefully, savoring the taste with his eyes closed. After a moment Uncle Vernon looked at Harry, who decided to seize the opportunity presented to him. "Uncle Vernon?"

"Yes, lad?" Vernon asked, setting down the tea next to the small table beside his chair.

"I got a letter today; I'm unsure about it. Aunt Petunia says I should write them back and say I don't want to go, but it sounds like some sort of special school. It doesn't mention anything about tuition, only that I've been accepted." Harry saw Aunt Petunia's face flick between shock, and then absolute rage. Hopefully he wouldn't pay dearly for this.

Uncle Vernon nodded, and considered. "A scholarship, perhaps? Let's see the letter, lad. It could be spam, but we might as well be sure of that before dismissing it." Vernon gestured, as Harry set down the tea kettle and rushed for the crawlspace, nimbly dodging Aunt Petunia's arm that attempted to grab him.

Soon after, he returned with the letter; he quickly handed it to Uncle Vernon.

Vernon peered it over, reading it carefully as recognition slid across his face. "Well then, lad, make sure to send them a letter to confirm you will be going. Though I'm unsure where to go to get you those supplies. I can't think of anywhere that I know of that sells things like that."

Petunia's anger exploded, her mouth opening as she started to shriek loudly, "He will NOT be going! I will not have his… freakishness get even worse!" Petunia stood up immediately, walking towards Vernon and reaching for the letter.

Vernon winced and shook his head, quickly moving the letter away as she snatched for it. "Pet, it's where his parents went. You told me that yours-"

SLAP! Petunia's hand struck Vernon across the face. There was a stunned silence, as even Dudley had frozen in place from where he stood on the stairs. Harry felt his breath hitch. No matter how angry Aunt Petunia had gotten, she had NEVER struck Uncle Vernon. She had always taken it out on him when Uncle Vernon wasn't around.

"I will not have him learning that same disgusting freakishness that my sister was drawn into! That insane, dangerous world that lost me my sister! He will not be going, Vernon! Not now, not EVER!" Petunia's shouting was on the verge of shattering glass with how shrill it was.

Vernon glared at Petunia, a new expression that Harry had never seen before from the slightly overweight man. The sight of it made the hair on Harry's neck stand on end. The man's size and power loomed over Petunia, reminding her of the man's college boxing career.

Vernon took a deep, rumbling breath before his own stern, powerful words came out. The rage in his voice was evident, but the man didn't move a muscle. "You will NOT stand between the boy and a good education, Petunia. You have been nothing but hate-filled towards the boy since he arrived. And now, you raise your hand against me! Enough is enough, Petunia! I will NOT allow you to ruin his life any further! If you do not stop this very INSTANT, I don't care if you call Marge, I don't care if you tell everyone I was a bad husband, we are THROUGH! You can then explain to your fair-weather friends why you have been DIVORCED!"

Petunia froze. Vernon had never shouted back at her like that, and the barest mention of the dreaded D-word as she trembled a little. Seeing Petunia's reaction, Vernon's face faltered from its stoic look. Harry knew this must have hurt the man more than he was showing.

Harry had seen old pictures in the attic when he had cleaned it, of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia fresh out of school. Married and happy, with Uncle Vernon a rising star in his college Boxing team. When asked, Uncle Vernon had said he gave up his Boxing career, despite an offer to go regional when he had found Aunt Petunia was pregnant.

The man's face finally softened as he reached out, pulling Aunt Petunia into a hug. The woman seemed to tremble, and then start to cry. Harry had never seen Aunt Petunia cry before, as some sort of wisp flicked into Harry's view for a split-second.

Uncle Vernon spoke softly a few minutes later, letting Aunt Petunia cry into his chest. "Now, Pet… he will go, and then you don't have to deal with him for a majority of the year. It's a boarding school. Wouldn't you prefer that?"

Petunia seemed to recover as that same off flicker around her shifted. She nodded, and sniffed. "Fine. Only because it's more time that the boy doesn't need to be seen or heard."

Harry internally cheered but managed to control himself. The tension in the air was still palpable, as he saw Dudley slink back up the stairs, not saying a word.

Harry took the letter as Uncle Vernon reached over, passing it to him. "Thanks, Uncle Vernon." Harry whispered before quickly he ran back to the crawlspace.

He heard mumbling and a muted apology above him, both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia not moving from where he had left them as he wrote his return letter.

It had taken a day for the owl to return to give it his response to. Harry had been nervous, not knowing how to send the letter when the owl had come, sitting near the front door. Petunia had been livid, but Harry had given the owl his response quickly, allowing the owl to flee before Petunia's wrath struck.

A few days after that, he received a new letter, wrapped in the same parchment envelope that he had received the first within.

Dear Mr Potter,

We will be sending someone to escort you to Diagon Alley, where you will be able to purchase supplies. Please be available at midday on July 30th, and be prepared for Hogwarts' representative to come and escort you.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry had returned to his crawlspace, excited over the revelation in the letter. Today was the 30th! He only had a couple more hours to wait, and then the magical world would be his oyster.

It didn't take long for a heavy knock to sound at the door, as the clock struck noon.

"Pet, can you get it?" Vernon's voice came from upstairs, the water running. Harry peered out of the crawlspace and through the kitchen, looking towards the front door as Petunia made her way to it and opened it. Petunia took one look and froze, a wordless scream on her lips as a massive, almost nine foot tall man walked in, ducking under the door frame.

"Pleasure t' meetcha. Y' must be lil' Harry's Aunt. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts." The large man offered a huge hand to shake, but Petunia shrank away quickly from the man's courtesy. She had a look of absolute horror on her face. Vernon soon came downstairs, walking up to the massive man, immediately taking his hand.

"A pleasure, my good man. I assume you're from Hogwarts, here to guide my nephew to Diagon Alley?" Harry had explained about the magical hub in the depths of London, something that fascinated his Uncle. It was too bad that Uncle Vernon wouldn't be coming, Harry thought.

Hagid nodded. "Aye. I also brought 'arry a little something fer his birthday." He reached into his bag, taking out a white box.

Harry could see it was a cake, a look of happy surprise on his face as he accepted it from the huge man. "Thank you, Mister Hagrid!" Harry beamed, and brought the cake over to the table. "Aunt Petunia, you and Dudley can have some if you like while I'm gone."

Harry knew they'd probably eat it while he was away. At least this way, he could make it seem like he was being nice.

Hagrid, however, seemed quite happy at the kind gesture, his cheeks a rosy red of joy. "Happeh Birthday, 'arry. Now, shall we get goin'? Ther's much t' do!"

Harry nodded, moving forward as Vernon spoke up. "Will he be home in time for dinner?"

Realizing an opportunity when she heard one, Petunia spoke up. "There's no rush at all. Feel free to keep him as long as you wish."

Hagrid nodded. "He'll be back, safe 'n sound, by this evenin'." Hagrid nodded, offering Harry his hand. Aunt Petunia looked like she had sucked a lemon, her plan to get Harry out of the house for a while thwarted.

Harry took the proffered hand quickly, grinning like a loon as the large giant of a man turned. Harry could see a motorcycle, sitting in the driveway. Petunia nearly fainted at the sight. What her neighbors would think, with a large ruffian and his motorcycle!

Harry didn't much mind about that, moving to the Motorcycle as the man helped him into the side cab. The rumble of the engine revving could be heard, as Harry felt a sudden shift. Harry was startled and excited when he noticed the motorcycle was lifting off the ground! The feeling of the wind in Harry's hair felt amazing as it took off, heading into the sky.

"Y' seem t' like flyin' 'arry." Hagrid said, as Harry held tightly to the sidecar. The boy looked all around, taking in the sights with a glowing grin on his face. Harry turned to Hagrid with that golden smile. "It feels great! I've never felt so... so free!"

The large man laughed softly, as the motorcycle dipped into the clouds and out of sight.

-Author's Notes-

And so the meat of the story begins. With a better foundation of magic than he had in canon, and a far more inquisitive mind, what sort of chaos will Harry get up to? Uncle Vernon seems to be putting his foot down, having enough of being henpecked. It seems things are changing in the Dursley Household. The question is: is it for the better, or for the worse?

Thank you all so much for the continued interest in the story. We've now left the chapters that have been proofread, and now things might get a bit more rough, as the one person I had reading the story a month ago had some real life issues.

Once more, if anyone has any form of interest in the story, I implore you; send me a private message! I'd love to have a couple people helping me proofread, and make sure everything flows well. The biggest worry I have is I'll forget a minor detail that ends up leaving a plot hole, and the only way I can solve that is having more eyes reading it.

Once again, Harry potter is owned by JK Rowling. This is merely a retelling of her story.