Mine

Disclaimer: Although the plot is mine, the characters and the whole Harry Potter franchise belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, the woman that started my addiction into the Potter universe. I receive no monies for this story, but write for the pleasure of twisting the characters to my will.
Summary: Harry comes into a long forgotten inheritance on his seventeenth birthday. He is no longer human, but a creature that is quite rare and beautiful.....a creature that is strong, powerful, and sexual in nature....a Vanteera.
Thanks go to Strife who helped me fine tune the story for you all to read.

Chapter One It was quiet in the large, circular room, the faint sounds of the bits and bobs moving about magically on their own, or the past Headmasters in their portraits snoring softly as they slept, the only sounds to be heard. The late afternoon sun could be seen from the ceiling high windows on the second level of the room, the large telescope idle, waiting for the current Headmaster to gaze upon the constellation of stars. Fawkes, the Headmasters Phoenix, sits on his perch, the occasional melodic trill coming from him as he watched the two wizards sitting close together, a chessboard between them.

“You’ve gotten better at the game Harry,” Albus Dumbledore said, grinning to the young wizard across from him, who just took one of his knights.

“Ron’s been teaching me some different strategic moves of the game,” Harry smiled, taking a few smarties from the bowl at the side of the board, the present treat that seems to satisfy the Headmaster’s sweet tooth. Loads better than those blasted lemon drops he used to always push on people.

“Are you all ready to leave tomorrow Harry?” Albus asked.

“All packed. Are you sure I can’t stay here or at Grimmauld Place, instead of the Dursleys?” Harry hopefully asked.

“Although I would love to have you here, to have our afternoons together, you need to stay at your relatives for a short while, because of the blood protection from your aunt. It is for your own safety as well as theirs that you stay there for the few weeks.”

Harry sighed heavily, resigned to his fate. “I can’t believe I have only one more year left at Hogwarts,” he said.

“It has been an eventful time for you here, hasn’t it?” Albus smiled. “And not all good I’m afraid.”

“No . . . it hasn’t,” Harry replied, giving a sad smile in remembrance of Sirius, his godfather, who he didn’t get a chance to know; or Cedric Diggory who had died because he was portkeyed to Voldemort with him during the Tri-Wizard tournament in his fourth year. Wrong place at the wrong time.

“You’re a stronger person because of those tribulations you went through Harry,” Albus said, then gave a small chuckle when Harry dramatically rolled his eyes in response. “If there was any way I could have made things easier for you, I would have Harry.”

“It didn’t help that danger always seem to find me,” Harry grinned. “Any training or reading you would like me to do over the summer?”

“There are a few books on wandless magic, as well as shielding charms, that have already been added to your trunk. As for using magic . . . with your wand . . . the Ministry refused my request that you be able to use it.”

“You did say magic with a wand, right?” Harry smirked.

“Yes, wandless magic isn’t detected as easily by the Ministry.”

“What about Dobby in my second year, or the time I blew up my aunt like a balloon in third year? The Ministry knew about those things happening. I almost was charged with underage wizardry in fifth year when I used the Patronus spell.”

“Yes, they detected magic . . . accidental magic. Accidental magic tends to be forgiven more through the Ministry. Furthermore, the Ministry is a bit more lenient with you since Fudge found out that Voldemort is actually alive. He knows that you are being trained to defeat him,” Albus said.

“Does he know of the prophecy?”

“He knows you are part of the prophecy, as does Voldemort, but does not know you are the only one able defeat him.”

Just then a pop was heard in the room, and a house elf with big ears, big eyes, and a motley outfit of a Chudley Cannon T-shirt, a plaid kilt, and mismatched striped socks, appeared at their side carrying a tray. “Masters Harry Potter Sir, and Headmaster Sir, I’s have your afternoon treat and tea,” Dobby said, smiling at the two of them.

“Thank you Dobby,” Albus smiled. “Would you like to join us in eating this fine treacle tart?”

“You are too kind Headmaster Sir, to invite Dobby to sit with two great wizards like yourselves,” Dobby said, twisting the hem of his T-shirt in his long fingered hands.

Harry used his wand and moved another chair over to them. “I won’t be able to eat all this myself Dobby,” he grinned.

“Buts that is your favorites Harry Potter Sir,” Dobby said, climbing onto the chair.

“Yes, it is, but I would like you to share some with us,” Harry said. “I won’t see you all summer.”

“That is a lovely shirt you’re wearing there, Dobby,” Albus said, his eyes twinkling madly.

“Mister Weasleys gaves it to me. He said it didn’t fit him anymore,” Dobby grinned, smoothing his hands over the front of the shirt. “Is was okay for Misters Weasleys to give Dobby his shirt?”

“Of course it is Dobby,” Harry replied. “You are a free elf. If you are given clothes, there is no harm in that. Besides, Ron was meaning to give that to you for ages.”

“Misters Weasleys and of course Mister Potters are great wizards,” Dobby smiled, placing their treat on individual plates.

Harry took a bite, looking forward to that first sweet taste. He began to slowly chew, the taste unpleasant to him. “Is something wrong Harry?” Albus asked, seeing Harry struggling to swallow what he put in his mouth.

Harry shook his head, and took a swallow of his pumpkin juice. “It just tastes different,” he replied, grimacing. “Was anything different put in it Dobby?”

“No, same as always. Is dessert making Harry Potter sick?” Dobby worriedly asked.

Harry grabbed onto Dobby’s hand before he could get up to punish himself. “I’m sure it is fine Dobby,” he reassured him. “A lot of things have been tasting rather odd to me lately.”

“For how long?” Albus asked, spooning more of the treat into his mouth.

“Not long . . . couple of days, maybe,” Harry shrugged. “I’ve been feeling down lately. Probably from all the extra training lately.”

“Just to be sure, make sure to visit with Madame Pomfrey when you leave here, to check for any potions or hexes that may have been given to you,” Albus said, looking over his half-moon spectacles at Harry.

Harry nodded his head, then looked down at the chessboard. He smiled to himself, then moved his queen. “Checkmate,” he proudly said. “I can’t believe I finally beat you Albus.”

“So you have Harry. Well done,” Albus grinned.

“Wait a minute! You let me win,” Harry said seeing the mischievous look on Albus’s face.

“Did I Harry?” Albus replied, waving his hand over the board to reset it for another time. “Now, I believe your friends are waiting for you in the Room of Requirement for a little meeting.”

“But, how did . . . ” Harry began.

“Can’t tell you all my secret’s Harry,” Albus twinkled, then stood up. “Make sure to see Madame Pomfrey before you go, and owl us if you have any concerns when you are at your relatives.”

“You’re scary sometimes. You know that?” Harry laughed, then hugged Albus. “Maybe next time I’ll actually beat you . . . without you giving me the game.”

Harry shook his head, smiling to himself as he made his way down to the infirmary. The Headmaster and himself have gotten to be quite close over the past year, where they were able to talk about most things. He never mentioned how his relatives actually treat him though. He couldn’t stand the look of pity he would see in other peoples eyes if they were to find out. When he entered the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey didn’t seem surprised to see him. Albus must have flooed her in warning. She immediately scanned for any wrong doing against him, but was unable to find anything. She told him not to hesitate to come back if his symptoms worsened, before sending him off.

When he entered the Room of Requirement, he was waved over by Draco Malfoy. It was still surprising to him that Lucius and Draco were spies, alongside Severus Snape, for the light. What was even more surprising, is that once Draco and himself cleared the air between them, they became quite close. With Ron and Hermione in their own relationships, the Golden Trio were not as close as they once were. Ron was often seen snogging with Lavender Brown from Gryffindor, and Hermione and Blaise Zabini from Slytherin, were often seen holding hands with their noses in the thick magical tombs in the restricted section of the library. Although there may have been a bit of an attraction between Draco and Harry at the beginning, it never became of anything. For both of them realized they were better off as friends, and very good friends. Harry found he was able to talk to Draco a lot easier than Ron or Hermione, to talk of his muggle upbringing, or his dreams and wishes for the future.

Draco was quite a bit different in the company of the defense group that Harry and Hermione began a few years ago, which he joined midway through sixth year, along with Blaise, Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott, and Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin. They still had to appear like Death Eater wannabes to gain information from the Serpents lair, but had toned down their spitefulness. Of course, with Draco, it helped that he was secretly seeing the two notorious pranksters of their time . . . Fred and George Weasley. That triad coupling surprised many, but when together you could see how they all complimented each other.

“Hey Harry, you’re zoning again,” Draco grinned, pulling on Harry’s hand to get his attention.

“Sorry ‘bout that Dray,” Harry said, returning the grin. “What are you three up to now?” He asked, looking at Fred and George suspiciously.

“Nothing,” George smirked, putting his arms around Draco, pulling him back to lean against his chest.

“We were just,” George began.

“Talking about our new line,” Fred added.

“Of adult sex aids that they’re adding to the shop,” Draco finished.

“You realize you’re talking in sync with them right?” Harry laughed, looking at Draco’s flushed face.

“Well, they’re rubbing off on me,” Draco smirked.

“I’d like to rub off on you,” Fred suggestively said, not noticing Harry’s face flush pink.

“Hmm,” Draco hummed, pulling Fred closer so he was sandwiched between the two redheads. “Sounds promising,” he huskily added, as George started to nibble onto the side of his neck, and Fred leaned in to claim his lips in a heated kiss.

Harry stood and watched, gobsmacked, as the trio were making good use of their mouths and hands. He was embarrassed to witness it, but couldn’t help but not watch. He never felt that certain connection that many of his friends had with their girlfriends or boyfriends. He always felt too old for his years, to have anything in common with his peers. He has known for a few years that he was attracted to the same sex, but never pursued anyone. Too busy, or too afraid to get close to anyone. His eyes usually strayed to the older men, like Remus Lupin, for his kind but animalistic ways; Oliver Wood for his determination . . . not to mention looking quite good in his quidditch uniform; and Lucius Malfoy with his gorgeous blonde hair and a body that rivaled the sons. Most notably, there was Severus Snape that took most of his notice. Over the past year, the two of them spent quite a bit of time together, getting to know one another. With the Headmaster’s insistence, Severus had started the occlumency lessons again, as well as some dark arts training, that Lucius Malfoy assisted him with. During that training, Harry a hard time concentrating, as the elder wizards would often take off their outer robes, leaving them in form fitting trousers and open necked shirts. He quickly learned to pay attention to the lessons, instead of the two wizards, when he was hexed for not paying attention at the beginning of the first lesson.

“Harry,” a voice quietly said by his ear, from behind him. “You okay?”

Harry turned to face one of his favorite professors, Remus Lupin, who came back to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts that year. “Yeah, I’m okay. You?” He asked in a choked voice.

“I’m good. You sure you’re okay, because you look all flushed and hot,” Remus said grinning knowingly.

“You see more and more of that. I guess I feel kind of jealous,” Harry shrugged, walking to the punch bowl to ladle some punch into his cup.

“Isn’t there anyone you have your heart set on?”

“Not really,” Harry replied, turning his face away from Remus. “There aren’t too many people that would want, just me. I’ve had offers, but they wanted the-boy-who-lived, and all the bloody fame that goes with it. No one would want to get to know the person behind all that.”

“You’d be surprised Harry,” Remus said. “You have a lot of friends . . . true friends that like you for you.”

“But not enough to risk their lives getting close to me, or to snog me senseless,” Harry sighed, taking a sip of his drink. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, then put his cup down. “I’ll see you later Remus,” he said, before leaving the room to go to his bed in the dorm.

Remus picked up Harry’s cup and took a small sip, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. The usual punch spiked with a bit of muggle rum. “Something wrong wolf?” Lucius asked from beside him.

“Have you noticed anything different about Harry lately?” Remus asked.

“Here and there. Magically, he’s showing an aptitude in spell casting, his powers are growing. As for he himself, he seems more withdrawn, and he barely eats during meals,” Lucius replied.

“Something doesn’t feel right about Harry. I’ve sensed a different smell about him. He’s still Harry, but there’s just something off about him,” Remus said.

“He goes to those muggles tomorrow, doesn’t he?” Lucius asked.

“Yes. I’ve never thought that was a good idea. It’s necessary for his protection from Voldemort, but what about the protection from his relatives? He always comes back more withdrawn, and the few times I’ve been here when he returns, I’ve noticed he walks carefully and I can smell blood.”

“Have you ever asked him about it?”

“Yes, but he always insists he is fine. When I try to get the truth from him, he brushes me off. I’ve wanted to check up on him during the summers, but I’ve always been off on assignments for the Order.”

“Do you have an assignment this summer?” Lucius asked.

“Yes, I’m going to a few werewolf colonies to try to waver them away from the dark side. Severus’s wolfsbane potion will be helping me with that.”

“When are you due back?” Lucius asked.

“Sometime around mid-August,” Remus replied.

“I’ll miss you,” Lucius whispered by Remus’s ear. “How long do you need to stay here?” He asked, licking the shell of the other’s ear.

“Mmm . . . until midnight,” Remus sighed, leaning into his lovers touch.

“Do you think your students would miss you . . . say, for a half hour?” Lucius asked, as he slipped his hand into Remus’s robe, to press against the growing hardness there.

“Gods, Luc,” Remus quietly moaned, pushing forward into Lucius’s hand. He let the sweet torture continue for another minute or two, their bodies facing away from the partying students. He reluctantly pulled the blonde’s hand away and took a step back. “Five minutes, in my rooms,” he huskily said, before walking away.

After Remus told the Head Boy from Hufflepuff that he would be back, he went to his rooms to find that Lucius was there, naked and waiting for him. He pulled him to his feet from the couch and savagely took his mouth in a passionate kiss, his hands eagerly roaming over the familiar pale body. His mouth left the moaning lips to nip and lick his way down Lucius’s body. While he was marking his way further down, Lucius used wandless magic to bare Remus’s body.

Lucius cried out and threw his head back, as Remus engulfed his cock into his mouth, his nose nuzzling the blonde pubic hair. His hands went into Remus’s hair, as he thrust in and out of the wet heat. He felt Remus’s tongue slide up and down his length, swirling around the head when he pulled back. He muttered a lubricating and preparation spell, then reached behind him to plunge a finger deep into himself, over and over again.

Remus began to suck faster, and harder on Lucius’s cock, gliding his hand up the inside of the other’s thigh. He moaned around the length when he slipped one of his fingers into Lucius, alongside the blondes’. He felt Lucius’ body start to quiver before his throat was working on swallowing all of what Lucius gave him. His mouth left the softening cock, as he looked up at Lucius’ flushed face, before pulling him down onto the floor; turning him around in front of him. He knelt behind him and guided his rock-hard cock to the lubricated hole. He moaned as he slipped the head in, then slammed in fast and hard.

“Fuck! Yesss . . . more,” Lucius cried out, leaning down on his elbows, pushing back against the forceful thrusts.

“So tight,” Remus growled, gripping the blondes’ hips as he pistoned his hips forward. “Touch yourself Luc. I want to feel you grip my cock tight inside of you.”

“Mmm . . . gods . . . feels . . . so . . . fucking . . . good,” Lucius panted, stroking his cock in time with the maddening thrusts inside of him from behind.

Remus pulled Lucius’s upper body up, his arms braced across his chest, his fingers pinching the nipples. Lucius leaned his head back on Remus’s shoulder, his back arched, as he continued to push back against Remus’s frenzied thrusts. “Now . . . Luc. Cum for me now,” he hoarsely moaned by his lover’s ear.

Lucius pushed back hard onto Remus, his prostate hit again and again. His hand gripped Remus’s forearm as he cried out his lover’s name, his release leaving him breathless.

Remus pulled Lucius’s hips down, grinding up into him as he erupted deep inside. He wrapped his arms around Lucius’s waist and chest, holding him close, as they tried to steady their erratic breathing. He kissed the side of Lucius’s sweating neck. “I’ll miss you too, Luc,” he softly said by his ear.

Chapter Two  After a frenzied, last minute check of their dorms for any missing belongings, the students all gathered in the Thestral drawn carriages to take them to the Hogwarts Express for their trip home for the summer.

Harry was thankful, after an hour of excitable chatter around him, that Hermione, Blaise, Ron, Lavender, Ginny, and Neville left the compartment. He was so tried, even after going to bed early the night before. He laid down along the bench, conjuring a pillow from his robes. He was soon asleep from the gentle rocking of the train.

Draco quietly came into the compartment, after finding out from Hermione that Harry was by himself. He kneeled down and reached out to gently brush the raven hair from Harry’s eyes, his knuckles touching the fevered skin of his forehead. He gently touched the side of Harry’s face, then his neck, feeling the same heated skin. “Harry,” he softly said, giving Harry’s shoulder a slight shake.

Harry blearily opened his eyes, looking around the compartment, then at Draco who was still kneeling before him at his side. “Hey Draco. We home already?” He tiredly asked.

“No. You’ve only been asleep for about an hour. At least that’s when Hermione said she left you,” Draco replied, sitting beside Harry when the other sat up. “How long haven’t you been feeling well?”

“I don’t feel sick or anything, just tired. I went to Pomfrey yesterday and she said she couldn’t find anything wrong with me. Maybe I’m catching a wizarding flu bug or something.”

“You wouldn’t tell me if something was seriously wrong anyway, would you?”

“You know I tell you more than most. Maybe I’m just burnt out from all the extra training,” Harry said.

Draco looked worriedly at the dark circles under Harry’s eyes. “I’ve got an early birthday present for you Harry,” Draco smiled, pulling out the green wrapped package, not wanting to push Harry, when he obviously wasn’t feeling well.

“You didn’t have to Draco. You being there for me, listening to me, is enough,” Harry smiled.

“And I will always be there for you Harry. Goes both ways you know. You listened to me while I complained, then grieved for my mother when she was killed by Bellatrix. I know it’s hard to keep in contact with anyone while you stay with the muggles, so father and I came up with this gift,” Draco said, handing him the gift.

Harry carefully unwrapped the package, to see a green leather-bound journal with his name etched in gold on the front. “A journal?” Harry asked, flipping through the empty pages.

“Not just any journal Harry. Father got the idea from Riddles’ diary in our second year, except this one won’t kill you,” Draco smirked. “When you write . . . and you can use muggle pens if it’s easier, the message will automatically, magically appear in my journal. They are connected. I can write to you also. No owls needed.”

“Wow. Thank you so much Draco,” Harry smiled, looking at the journal in wonder.

“It’s also charmed so that no one but us two can read them,” Draco added.

Draco pulled on Harry’s arm, guiding him to lie down again, his head on his lap. He took a piece of paper that was in his pocket, then transfigured it into a cool, damp cloth, gently brushing it over Harry’s heated skin.

“Feels nice,” Harry softly said. “Thanks again Draco . . . for everything.”

“Anytime Harry,” Draco quietly replied, applying the cool cloth over and over again, even when he felt the deep, even breathing of the sleeping Gryffindor.

Harry had said goodbye to Draco after he woke up, then went to meet up with Ron and Hermione on the platform, to see them off. Almost as soon as he stepped through the magical barrier of Platform 9¾, he was embraced in the matronly arms of Molly Weasley, his surrogate mother, since he started at Hogwarts, six years before.

“Is your aunt and uncle meeting you Harry?” Arthur kindly asked.

Harry nodded his head and motioned to the rather obese man, that was glaring at them by the car. “Just my uncle,” he quietly said. “I better get going,” he added, turning his trolley, with his trunk and Hedwig’s rather large cage.

“Make sure you owl us regularly to let us know that you’re all right,” Molly said, hugging him again.

“I will,” Harry grinned, returning the embrace. “I better go,” he said, turning to see his uncle stalking his way.

Harry then quickly pushed the trolley straight towards his uncle, to have his arm grasped in a bruising grip, hurrying the pace until they arrived at the car. He hefted his trunk, into the trunk of the car, unassisted and under the watchful eye of his uncle. Although careful, the metal on the corner of the trunk left a tiny scratch into the paint.

With his back towards the watching Weasley’s, Vernon Dursley reached up to grasp the back of his neck. “You will pay for that boy,” Vernon threatened.

“Yes, Uncle Vernon,” Harry sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, after his Uncle had let him go, then picked up Hedwig’s cage to put it in the back seat with him.

Harry nervously rubbed his sweating palms against his jean clad thighs. He felt somewhat reassured, feeling his wand in the hidden pocket of his jeans, even knowing he, by wizarding law, cannot do magic until his birthday at the end of July. He shifted in his seat, feeling the journal that Draco gave him, that lay warmly between the back of his jeans and the small of his back.

Harry was not surprised, when his Uncle pulled up into their driveway, opened his car door, then stalked to the front door of the house, leaving him to fend for himself with his trunk and Hedwig. He sighed and slowly got out of the car, to then drag his trunk with one hand, and the other awkwardly carrying Hedwig’s cage. Once through the door, he was taken by surprise, his hands dropping his precious cargo, when he was forcefully pushed back against the door, the door knob pressing painfully into his spine.

“If it wasn’t for that convict godfather of yours, you would be paying for that scratch with your blood,” Vernon threatened, his hand at Harry’s neck. “Now . . . the trunk in the cupboard, your bird in the shed.”

“But Uncle Vernon, Hedwig needs . . . ” Harry rasped out, trying to pry the thick fingers from his neck.

“The bird goes in the shed. You will feed it when you send your letters to your freaky friends.”

Harry took a few deep breaths once his uncle let him go, then righted the cage with a very pissed off bird inside. He picked up the one end of his trunk and dragged it to his once-upon-a-time bedroom and placed it inside, thankful that he had his wand hidden on himself. He watched as his uncle padlocked the cupboard, pocketing the key in his pocket. He followed his uncle to the back shed, quietly reaching down to throw some owl treats into the cage that he had in his pocket, and to unlatch the cage door.

He carefully placed the cage on a table, and gazed into Hedwig’s large, amber eyes. “I’ll see you in a few days,” he quietly said, knowing that she realized the situation. “Uncle Vernon, we need to open the window. Hedwig will need air,” he added, so Vernon could hear.

“No, we will not,” Vernon sneered.

“She will be needed to deliver the letters. My friends know she is mine,” he reminded him.

“Fine. But if anything is stolen from here, you will pay for it.”

Harry reached up and propped the window up, smiling to himself when he heard the scurrying of tiny mice feet in the darkened corners of the shed. He looked down at his feet, hiding his smile from his uncle as he squeezed himself out the shed, past his uncle.

“Petunia will be needing to put Dudders new car into the garage in a few hours. You will clean the garage and make sure there is plenty of room for his new car.”

‘Spoiled git,’ Harry thought to himself. “Yes, Sir,” Harry nodded, heading in the direction of the side garage door.

“You will not come in until it is spotless,” Vernon warned, going back into the house.

“Gods,” Harry exclaimed to himself when he turned on the garage light. He cleans it every year, but this year was the worst that he could remember. Boxes lay haphazardly around the floor, some of them, their contents overflowing over the tops. Broken milk bottles, and what he assumed were Dudley’s beer bottles, lay tossed and broken at the edge of the one wall, like they were carelessly swept there. Broken furniture and toys were piled into two of the corners, mostly due to Dudley’s childish tantrums over the years. If was like his relatives knew he was going to be there and purposely ransacked their own garage, to see him work his arse off.

He took a few deep breaths, as he stepped further into the garage, taking off his button down shirt, leaving him in his T-shirt. He wrapped his shirt around the journal and kept the wand at his side, then picked up a couple of markers from an overturned box before setting to work, sorting, refilling, and labeling the boxes as accurately as possible. After just a few boxes, his shirt was soaked to the skin from his excursions and his overly heated body.

Several hours later, Harry looked around at the partially cleaned garage, the boxes labeled and piled neatly in the one corner of the garage, after thoroughly sweeping and washing that area first. He looked at the broken glass at the one side, then closed the garage door. “Evanesco,” he quietly said, waving his hand over the mess. He smiled to himself as the glass and stains on the pavement disappeared.

“I wouldn’t let dad see you do that,” a voice said, from the partially open door.

“Dudley,” Harry said, surprised he didn’t hear his cousin come in. “You’re early.”

“It’s not that early,” Dudley shrugged, coming in further, looking around the garage. “Mum said you were cleaning, so I thought I’d come to clear out some of the broken things. Rick’s out there with his truck,” he added.

“You’re . . . you’re helping me? Why?” Harry stammered.

“I’ve come to a few self revelations the past year Harry,” Dudley said, opening the large garage door for Harry to see a shiny new, cherry black sports car, and a blond haired man opening the tailgate of his truck. He got a closer look at Harry, when more light came through the open garage door. “You don’t look so good Harry,” he said, nodding to the sweat soaked T-shirt.

“Haven’t been feeling too good the past few days,” Harry replied, pulling out a broken chair from the pile. He stepped around Dudley, as he didn’t trust the bigger man, and placed the chair by the door.

“Harry, I’m not going to do anything to you,” Dudley smirked, seeing how Harry avoided him.

“Why, all of a sudden?” Harry asked.

“A few things,” Dudley said, looking back at Rick, to see him rearranging things in the back of his truck. “Watch Rick, and tell me if he’s looking this way,” he quietly said.

“He’s not looking.”

Dudley turned his back to the open garage door and held out his hand. Harry gasped in shock, when a broken ski flew into his cousin’s hand. “That is why,” Dudley smiled, looking at the ski, then at Harry.

“Does Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia know?” Harry asked.

Dudley turned around again when he heard Rick walking up the driveway. “I’ll tell you later,” he whispered. “Rick. I’d like you to meet my cousin Harry.”

“Hello Harry,” Rick smiled, holding out his hand. “Dudley told me a bit about you. Sorry ‘bout your parents.”

“Thank you, and it was a long time ago. I don’t even remember much about them,” Harry replied, returning the handshake.

“I lost my mum when I was young too. Couldn’t imagine losing both,” Rick said. He then looked around them. “You were a destructive child Dudders,” he laughed, seeing the pile of broken furniture and toys.

“I was,” Dudley smirked. “I was a spoiled brat,” he admitted.

“Still are,” Rick grinned, nodding his head towards the new car.

Dudley just shrugged his one shoulder, then went to some of the labeled boxes Harry just finished with. “Why don’t you two haul the broken furniture and I’ll see what can be garbaged here?”

The three of them set to work, Harry listening to the other two joke back and forth. Harry and Rick piled the broken things onto the back of the truck, while Dudley slowly added to the pile with boxes of more broken things. After the truck was filled as much as possible, Rick and Dudley left to take it to the dumpsite, while Harry got more ready for the second haul.

Harry took a few moments to sit on a chair he wandlessly fixed, and slowly sipped the water his aunt silently left him. He was trailing an ice cube along his neck, when he caught sight of a shoe box that was wedged under a shelf, that was uncovered after some of the junk was hauled away. He went over and pulled the box out, sitting back down with it on his lap. He picked up his glass again to drink some of the water as he opened the box. The glass soon crashed to the floor, the glass shattering at his side as he looked inside the box.

Harry grinned to himself, feeling the stiffness by his eye, from the swollen skin. He left the journal in his shirt, then slipped it under the loose floorboard by his bed, a place he’s hidden his prized possessions over the years.

He heard the many deadbolts opening, and sat up on the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest. He gave a hesitant smile, not to mention being a bit relieved, when he saw that it was Dudley.

“Hello Harry,” Dudley greeted, dragging his trunk into the room.

“Dudley, I don’t think . . . ” Harry began.

“I talked dad into letting you have your trunk up here, as long as I take the magical things out. He said to keep them in my room,” Dudley said, coming over to sit on the bed. “Already?” He asked, motioning to the blackening eye.

“Because I didn’t clean the garage by myself,” Harry replied, laying his trunk on the floor.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Dudley said.

“It’s okay, “ Harry shrugged. “He would have found another reason to do it, sooner or later.”

Dudley watched Harry take out a few things from the trunk; a shimmery cloak of some kind, a photo album, textbooks, and a shrunken down broom. Harry left his school robes, and what remained of his school supplies in his trunk. “Why didn’t you ever use magic on dad and me? I know that you would have gotten into trouble for using it outside of school, but why didn’t you use it when he was beating you, or when I was tormenting you?” He asked, picking up the small broom to look it over.

“In the wizarding world, if you are underage, which is seventeen there, you can be expelled from school for using underage magic. You see, in Hogwarts, we learn many kinds of magic, if used the wrong way, or not used properly, a lot can go wrong. Our wands can be detected through the Ministry of Magic, so they would know if I had used it. Hogwarts is my home. I didn’t want to get expelled from the only place I felt comfortable,” Harry replied, taking out a pair of pajamas from his trunk. “How did you manage to get Vernon to agree to have my trunk up here?”

“I told dad I didn’t want you wearing any of my clothes, didn’t want you touching them,” Dudley said. “I had to let on that I still don’t like you Harry. I don’t want him to find out about me,” he added, after he saw Harry look down again.

“Couldn’t have that,” Harry sarcastically said.

“Harry, he would disown me, pull me out of Smeltings. I’m going onto College, on a boxing scholarship next year. Although he’s a prick, I need him right now. And if he were to find out about me, the beatings might go to mum, for bearing him a freak son. She would get it worse if he were to find out.”

“Worse?” Harry asked.

“Who do you think he takes his frustrations out on when you’re not here?” Dudley sighed. “Now, mum and dad went to Aunt Marge’s for the weekend. They did leave a list of things that you have to do, but for now . . . why don’t you have a bath, or shower, and I’ll make us some sandwiches or something, then we can talk some more.”

“I still don’t know if I can trust you Dudley,” Harry said.

“Don’t blame you cousin,” he smiled, getting up to go to the door. “I’ll get some ice for the eye too.”

After Harry had a relaxing shower, he went back to his room, to see Dudley sitting on the bed, his back to the wall as he flipped through one of his textbooks. “You actually learn this?” Dudley asked, holding up his transfiguration book.

“Among other things,” Harry sighed, sitting cross-legged on the bed. He picked up a peanut butter sandwich and took a small bite, slowly chewing, trying to ignore the many different textures and tastes. “I’ve been getting a lot of extra training, besides what everyone else has been learning.”

“Why?” Dudley asked.

“You first,” Harry smirked, drinking some of his water to wash down the bite of his sandwich.

“Well, do you remember Piers and Gordon, the guys I used to hang out with quite a bit?” Dudley asked. Harry nodded. “The two of them got arrested for beating and molesting a young boy last year. I had no part of it, as I was away at a boxing competition. When I found out, I thought of all those times we used to torment you for being a wimp, and a freak. Then I thought of the time you saved me from those dormentor things a few years ago. You saved my life Harry. I never thanked you for that.”

“Those things are called dementors, and they’re not fussy who they suck the life out of,” Harry said. “They were coming after me, and you just happened to be in their way.”

“Is that what they do?” Dudley asked.

“Yes. Dementors suck the happiness and hope out of you, make you relive your worst memories until you are an empty shell. The Ministry uses them to guard Azkaban, the wizarding prison. They are also used to give the ‘kiss of death’, by sucking the soul right out of you.”

“And how did you get rid of them that night?” Dudley asked.

“I used a patronus spell. It’s a spell that repels them using a happy memory. I was the only student able to do that in my year, and it nearly got me expelled for underage magic at the Ministry that year.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No, because I’m their pawn in their deadly chess game,” Harry sighed.

“Is that why you have the extra training?”

“In the wizarding world there is this Dark Lord, a wizard that went evil. He thinks all muggleborns . . . that’s non-magical people, are contaminating our world, and should be eliminated. Much like Hitler in muggle history. Anyway . . . a few years before I was born, there was a prophecy made about me. To make a long story short, he or I must die, as both of us cannot live.”

“So you have to kill him?” Dudley asked, his sandwich forgotten.

Harry had eaten about half of his sandwich while talking, before deciding to give up on it. “Yes, supposedly, I have a power ‘he knows not’ and it will help to defeat him. We’re all still trying to figure that out,” he said, picking up an apple. “The Headmaster of Hogwarts thinks it is the power of love that will defeat him.”

“Sounds kind of corny, doesn’t it?” Dudley smirked.

Harry cautiously took a bite of his apple, happy not to taste every little thing, like in the other foods. “It does, doesn’t it?” He grinned. “But it helped save me when I was a baby. Mum sacrificed herself for me, the love she felt for me shielded me from the killing curse, just leaving me with the scar on my forehead.”

“So why didn’t you ever use that wandless magic to stop us then, or leave when it got bad?” Dudley asked, repeating his question from earlier.

“For one . . . I’m just learning the wandless magic, and two . . . I need to stay here to protect myself, and the rest of the family from Voldemort. This area has protective charms around it, made stronger with my mum’s blood . . . Aunt Petunia’s blood.”

“So why can I do it?” Dudley asked.

“How long have you been doing magic?” Harry asked.

“For about a year now. I was in a car accident with Piers at the beginning of the school year last year. I was in the hospital, my leg in a cast, strung up in a sling when I woke up. It wasn’t anything serious, but they wanted to keep me there to run some tests. I was left alone the first night, as mum had to get home to cook dad his supper. The doctors had to kick him out, because he was disturbing the other patients with his ranting on their care of their son,” Dudley smirked at the memory.

“So what happened?” Harry urged.

“Mum had left one of her magazines on the chair, and I couldn’t quite reach it. I tried and tried. When the magazine suddenly flew into my had, I had dropped it like it was a pair of Aunt Marge’s dirty underwear,” he laughed. “The night nurse came running in when she heard my scream.”

“You screamed?” Harry laughed, imagining his bigger cousin screaming like a girl.

“Yes,” Dudley replied, laughing as well.

“Does Aunt Petunia know?” Harry asked.

“Yes, she does,” Dudley replied. “She wasn’t really surprised, as I thought she would be. She thought maybe you could help me with it . . . as long as dad doesn’t find out.”

“You can read some of my text books, since they’ll be in your room anyway. I won’t be able to teach you much without a wand, but I’ll try.”

“So why us?”

“Well, my mum and dad were both magical, as well as my father’s family. Some wizarding families aren’t as powerful, the magic skipping generations. Actually,” Harry began, suddenly remembering the shoe box, “do you recognize this box?” He asked, placing it between them on the bed.

“No,” Dudley replied, opening the box to take a photograph out, then dropped it down again. “It moved,” he exclaimed, watching the moving picture.

“All wizarding pictures and portraits move. It was weird for me at first also, but you get used to it. I wonder who these belong to?”

Dudley picked up the picture and looked at the back. “It just says ‘Evans reunion’. No year, or who anyone is,” he said looking at the picture again. He saw the happy faces, laughing and waving to the camera, and almost waved back. Off to the side he saw a woman holding hands with one man, while the other hand was held by another at her other side, the first man not aware of it. What was unusual was that the second man had wings, and no one seemed amazed by it.

“Is that normal?” Dudley asked, pointing out the winged man in the picture.

Harry looked at the picture, his heart beating faster, as he looked at the woman who was identical to his mother, dressed in an older style of clothing. He then saw the wings flutter on the man’s back. “Magical creatures are an everyday thing in the wizarding world. You know all those fairy tales you read with trolls, goblins, dragons, and fairies? Well . . . they’re real. I had to actually go up against a dragon in my fourth year at Hogwarts, for the tri-wizard tournament. There are species, or races that are also part human, like veela, vampires, and werecreatures. One of my professors is a werewolf. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts and takes a potion once a month when he transforms, so he still has his mind when he’s in wolf form. He was a close friend of my parents. You can read the books to find out more about them.”

“Why didn’t I get one of those letters all those years ago?”

“I’m not sure. My guess, is somehow your magic was blocked, or that it’s not that strong. That accident you were in could have kind of kicked it in maybe,” Harry said.

Dudley looked at his watch, surprised at how late it was. “I’ll let you get some sleep, and I’ll help you tomorrow with the chores,” he said, hiding his yawn behind his hand. Harry gave him his textbooks, first year to his sixth, to take back to his room.

“Thanks Dudley,” Harry smiled, waving him off. After the door was safely shut, he wrapped his wand, album, and broom in his invisibility cloak, and hid it under the floorboard, thinking his summer may not be too bad after all

Chapter Four

Harry finished writing in the journal, careful to hide it away when he was done. He wrote a quick note, then met Vernon in the kitchen, where he read it over first, before they went to the shed. Harry tied the rolled note to Hedwig’s leg, pet her on the head a few times, then let her out to deliver his weekly Order letter, to tell them he was okay.

“You will lock it in when it gets back. I will check when I get back from work tonight,” Vernon warned, pulling Harry out by the collar of his shirt. “You will do yard work, and it better be done when I get home.”

Harry went back in the shed to gather some gardening tools, as he heard his uncle’s car drive off. Aunt Petunia soon came out, purse in hand. “Harry, I’m off to work at the seniors home. Sandwiches and juice are in the fridge for you and Dudders. It’s going to be a hot day today, so make sure you rest a bit, and change into something cooler than your jeans,” she said, giving him a tired smile.

“Thank you Aunt Petunia,” Harry smiled, following her into the house to change into a pair of cutoff jeans and tank top, and to retrieve his sunglasses that Dudley got for him the other day. He enjoyed this weekly chore. He liked being outdoors, working on the yard, feeling a sense of freedom outside of his rooms.

He began in the front yard, mowing and trimming the grass, then went on to weed the garden. Dudley sat on the front steps, watching Harry, and talking about the magical world. Harry knew Dudley would help, but Vernon may find out from the gossiping neighbors, and Dudley didn’t want him to be abused more because of it. He usually helped in the backyard though, away from wandering eyes. What Harry didn’t realize though, was that there were plenty of people that watched him work, especially the young girls, and the few boys that looked on hungrily, as he worked shirtlessly in the front yard, his shirt discarded during the mowing of the lawn. He was not overly large, but his body was toned, the play of muscles glistening under the sweltering sun. Over the past few weeks he’s noticed that he’s lost some of his bulkiness from years playing quidditch, and the intensive training he’s been going through. He was glad the changes he was experiencing didn’t make him too slender or girlish. He was slowly getting used to some of the changes and hoped there weren’t too many more in store for him.

Harry had just doused himself with the hose to cool off and clean up, before he sat down with Dudley in the backyard for some lunch, when he heard the front doorbell through the open screen door.

“I’ll get it,” Dudley said, getting up. “Sit down and eat.” Harry eagerly complied, crossing his trainer clad feet at the ankles, and leaned back on the chair, chewing his first bite of apple.

“I’ve been worried about you, and your lazing around in the sun,” A voice said from the doorway.

Harry looked up to see Dudley looking at him questionably, with two blonde men standing beside him. Draco and Lucius Malfoy, dressed in muggle clothing. “You shouldn’t be here,” Harry said, getting up. “If my uncle comes home and sees you, he’ll have my hide.”

“Your uncle will be busy all afternoon, giving tours of the company to perspective buyers,” Lucius smirked, looking around the immaculately kept back yard.

“You okay Harry?” Draco asked, looking Harry over for any injuries. “We brought some healing potions if you need it.”

Harry looked worriedly to Lucius, who was also looking him over. “You promised you wouldn’t say anything Dray,” he quietly said, looking back at Draco.

“I didn’t tell him Harry,” Draco said.

“He did not break his word Harry,” Lucius said. “Voldemort knows of your abuse, as does some of his inner circle. Only Severus and myself know, other than Draco, from the Order.”

“So, why are you here?” Harry asked. “Not that I don’t mind seeing you, but no one from the Order usually checks up on me.”

“I explained to dad some of the changes you’ve been going through, the shoe box, and Dudley. We wanted to see the changes ourselves,” Draco replied.

“Were you bruised yesterday?” Lucius asked.

“Yes,” Harry quietly replied.

“His arm also had a large burn on it, from the stove burner,” Dudley said, ignoring the glare from Harry. “Sorry Harry, they needed to know.”

“And you feel nothing now?” Lucius asked, picking up Harry’s arm to look closer at it.

“No.”

“And you need the sunglasses most of the time now?” Lucius asked, motioning to the glasses perched on the top of his head.

“Bright sunlight, or the lights inside bother me, especially the flourescent lights in the kitchen. It gives me a wicked headache,” Harry replied.

“Your hair is quite a bit longer too,” Draco said, sifting his fingers through the back of Harry’s hair, that now rested just past his shoulders. “Really soft too.”

“Do you know what’s happening to me Lucius?” Harry asked, leaning into Draco’s touch.

“Many young wizards and witches go through a change on their sixteen, or seventeenth birthday. Some are just magical power boosts, as others gain some kind of inheritances like veela or vampire. Your changes can be any number of those things. Veela have a slender frame, beautiful in features . . . and you certainly are a sight to behold,” Lucius grinned, looking at Harry’s face and body, and the blush that rose up on his face. “Vampires are very sensitive to sunlight. When you are practicing your wandless magic, is it easier?”

“Yes, and I find I don’t need to say the spell sometimes, but just think it. I’ve been practicing with Dudley. I can do most first and second year spells wandlessly now,” Harry said, banishing his apple core in thin air. “So, I’m turning into more of a freak now, right?” He asked, looking out at the gardens.

“You were not before, and you never will be, a freak Harry,” Lucius said, stepping close to cup the side of Harry’s face with his hand. “You are an exceptionally gifted and powerful wizard. You will never be a freak,” he softly added.

“Thanks Lucius,” Harry said, returning the smile. “How’s Remus?” He quietly asked.

“How . . . ?”

“I can smell him on you,” Harry smirked.

“No one knows yet Harry,” Lucius whispered back, not bothering to deny the fact to Harry. “Your senses have become sharper?” He asked, a little bit more loudly as he stepped back.

“My eyesight, hearing, sense of smell, and tastes are getting stronger every day. I also see colors around certain people.”

“Colors? Since when Harry?” Draco asked.

“Since this morning. It’s kind of distracting really. Draco, you have kind of a fushia glow about you, as Lucius, yours is darker . . . fuller.”

“What about your cousin?” Lucius asked.

“A pale pink.”

“And your aunt and uncle?” Draco asked.

“Uncle Vernon, there is nothing, while Aunt Petunia’s is white.”

“What does that mean Harry?” Dudley asked, trying to see the colors around their guests.

“It means that Harry can see other people’s magic . . . their auras. The darker the color, the stronger they are magically,” Lucius replied.

“And my mum?” Dudley asked.

“She is a squib. No magical abilities whatsoever,” Draco explained, remembering the lesson from Defense classes about magical abilities.

“I’ve also talked to Albus about your cousin Dudley here,” Lucius said, seeing Harry look out at the garden again, deep in thought.

“Why don’t you talk to Dudley about it, while I finish the yard,” Harry said, taking the few steps down from the porch. “I have to finish it before Uncle Vernon comes home.”

“I can help you Harry,” Dudley said, getting up.

“No, Lucius can tell you better what’s going on. I’ve done this myself before, I’ll do it again,” Harry replied, motioning for the two of them to sit down.

“I can help you Harry,” Draco offered.

“And get dirt under those nice clean nails,” Harry teased. “I think not. I’ll just mow the lawn, then you can talk to me while I weed the garden.”

Draco sat on the step, and watched Harry push and pull the gas powered lawn mower, while the other two talked behind him. It was no hardship watching his brother’s physique as he went back and forth in front of him. He knew plenty of wizards back at school that would love to be in his place, like Seamus Finnigan from Gryffindor, and Sean Riley from Slytherin. He waited until Harry stowed away the machine, and gave Hedwig a tender ruffle under the chin, who had just flown in, then joined him on the ground.

“Just use some of your wandless magic Harry. It would save you loads of time,” Draco said, watching Harry kneeling over the garden, occasionally throwing a weed into a bucket at his side.

“I do sometimes, but I find it’s relaxing doing it the old fashioned way,” Harry shrugged.

“Well, the ‘old fashioned’ way is very dirty,” Draco smirked.

“Yes, it is,” Harry grinned, reaching out to smear some dirt on Draco’s cheek before the blonde knew what he was about.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Draco shrieked, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“Well, now that you’re dirty, maybe you can get off your arse and help me,” Harry laughed.

Lucius looked over at Harry and Draco, when he heard his son’s shriek, then his laughter. He was amazed when Draco actually knelt down beside Harry, to help pull out weeds, and the occasional, accidental flower. It was a sight he never thought to see, his son doing menial work.

“They’re good friends, aren’t they?” Dudley asked, happy to see Harry laughing.

“They weren’t always, but Harry saved Draco’s life one day, playing quidditch. Draco had gotten hit on the head with a bludger, and he was falling unconscious off his broom, when Harry caught him, and flew him straight to the infirmary in the school. His fast thinking saved his life. In front of others they are still rivalries, in private and in the company of close friends, they are close, like brothers. Harry has helped Draco become a better person,” Lucius replied. “He would have never dirtied his hands a year ago, like he is now,” he smirked.

“Can you get Harry out of here?” Dudley asked.

“I’ve asked numerous times, and was told he had to stay her