MINE

Chapter Three


After Dudley and Rick left with the second and last load of junk, Harry went up to his room, the shoe box and his journal wrapped in his shirt. He had just put the box under the bed, when he heard his uncle’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, then down the hallway to his room.

The door slammed open and Harry turned to face him. “You were told to clean the garage,” Vernon said, through clenched teeth, his multiple chins shaking with rage, as he came closer.

“I did clean the garage,” Harry replied, taking a step back.

“I saw my Dudley helping you. Did you use your freakish ways to make him?”

“No, Sir,” Harry began, but couldn’t say any more after the breath was knocked out of him, from the blow to the stomach his uncle gave him. He took a few deep breaths. “I can’t do magic outside of Hogwarts Uncle,” Harry wheezed out.

“What did I tell you about using that language in this house,” Vernon shouted, dragging Harry up by the collar, to shove him up against the wall. Harry didn’t even have time to flinch, before a thick fist connected to his right eye. “You will stay here with no supper,” he said, giving another push against Harry’s chest, then grinning evilly, as Harry crumpled down onto the floor.

Harry waited until he heard the deadbolts sliding into place on the door, before crawling over to the bed, his hand reaching for the journal. He sat on the floor, his back leaning against the bed, using an ‘accio’ spell to have his glasses, and a pen from the desk come to him. He opened the journal as he slipped the glasses gingerly onto his nose.



Hello Harry,
Hope your relatives were a bit easier on you so far. I know it’s not even been a day, but I was watching from my father’s limo when your uncle was grabbing you by the neck. Your description of your uncle did not do him justice. He looks more like a blast-ended skrewt than a troll. Please remember to tell me, or anyone for that matter, if the beatings get out of hand. Of course, any beating are out of hand, but know that you have friends out there to help you, Harry.
Your favorite Slytherin,
Draco


Harry smiled as he read Draco’s message, then began to write on the following page.


Dear Draco,
I’ve got a few new bruises, but nothing serious. Please don’t tell anyone. My Uncle believes Sirius is still alive, so the beatings won’t be bad. Nothing like having the threat of an ex-convict as a godfather for a threat, huh? I already was put to work, cleaning the garage for Dudley’s new sports car.

That’s something strange too. Dudley helped, and was being rather nice to me. Not sure what to make of that yet, but he did show me he could do a bit of magic. Why do you think he didn’t get a Hogwarts letter?

There’s something else that’s a bit odd. I found a shoe box with news clippings . . . wizarding news clippings. There was also a key that looks very much like a Gringott’s key, and several photographs. I haven’t gotten to look at them too closely yet. Uncle had to ‘greet’ me properly before I could get the chance.

I won’t be able to owl you, as Uncle made me lock her up in the shed. I did manage to get the window open and leave her cage unlocked. Also heard an abundance of mice scurrying about inside. Plenty of food there for her.

Thanks again for the journal. It will be great to talk to you through this. And thanks for keeping my secrets. I know if I just said one word on how I am being treated here, they . . . as in Albus and the others, would take me away. I don’t want them to know. Don’t want their pity. I couldn’t stand that. I only have one more summer here, then I’m on my own.

Anyway, I must sign off now. I hear someone coming up. Talk to you later.
Your friend,
Scarhead


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.

tbc