AN- So I have overhauled my account and removed all of my stories but two. I'm sorry to those still reading White Lies but it will probably end up discontinued. To anyone reading this on a site that's not then disregard the above information.

Summary- This is a story about people, feelings and corruption. This is most definitely a story about magic. Because there is a lot more to the world of magic than just silly wand waving. When Harry decides to start making choices independent from Dumbledore's influence he discovers a much more than he expected. Perspective changes everything. It can also make things weird.

Warning- This story contains Domestic Violence!

Thank you to my Betaminijaxter

Disclaimer- I own nothing in this story that is from the Harry Potter Universe. It is all owned by J.K. Rowling. Anything original in this story that may be similar to another work is coincidence and not intentional.

Harry Potter and the Magic of Perspective

Or (A.K.A)

Verum Inhereditas

Chapter 1

Weird Day

Tan hands pressed down on the soft top soil surrounding the delicate young sprout, being careful not to damage the fragile stem. Harry looked down at the small plant and contemplated how much it resembled Italian parsley.

It was a hot muggy day on Privet Drive, and the air was heavy with moisture that pressed down on Harry's mind, it was a thick film of condensation that settled onto his thoughts making them fuzzy and slow. He stared at the little green plant as it swayed in the light breeze, when suddenly there was a shadow cast over him. Harry looked up at his cousin; normally having the larger (now much more in shape) boy looming over him would be followed by unpleasant events, but Dudley held two glasses of lemonade with a nervous smile on his face.

"It's a rather hot day…" Dudley exclaimed lamely.

Harry nodded, he felt rather disconnected and wasn't sure what would fall from his lips if he tried to speak. He accepted the cold glass that was handed to him and took a long swig. The cool beverage helped Harry recover his wits, he turned around to thank his cousin and found the other boy sitting in a lawn chair. When had he set that up?

Dudley leaned forward and examined the small herb garden that Harry was planting with a critical eye.

"So what's that?" He pointed at the last sprout Harry had lovingly surrounded with dirt.

"ehhhhh… ermmm…" Harry found himself making odd unintelligible noises. He had not recovered enough wit to come up with a good lie.

"Oh, don't worry I won't tell mum. When you got back from buying the plants I saw one of the cards. It wasn't a plant I thought went into an herb garden," Dudley reassured.

Harry sighed and sat back with his hands on the ground behind him. This summer Aunt Petunia had gotten it in her head that she wanted an herb garden, some bollocks about it being healthier and trendy. So of course it became Harry's job to plant one. She left it to her nephew to buy the plants from the local market. So Harry bought herbs, just not the ones that his Aunt probably wanted. What harm could come from Dudley knowing more? He already knew they were the wrong plants and hadn't told his mum.

"That's mugwort."

Dudley nodded, "Is it a magic-y plant?"

Harry smiled. It was odd, ever since Sirius died, he never felt like smiling except for when his cousin showed his new uncharacteristic interest in magic.

"Sort of... It is used in potions but is also edible just by itself. Muggles consider it a weed." Harry found a sick joy in planting a "weed" in his aunt's garden.

The conversation continued for a few minutes. Dudley asked questions about potions, he was very interested in magic that could be done without a wand. Harry worked while his cousin talked, and when Dudley's voice moved to his left side, Harry was surprised to find his cousin on the ground helping him plant.

Harry gave Dudley a puzzled look.

"What? I have been slowing you down with my chatting and if you're not finished when dad gets home he won't be happy." Dudley looked a bit pale at the idea of his dad being unhappy.

"What's it to you if Vernon's unhappy with me?"

"Well you know, he blames you for the attack last summer…"

Dudley looked down at his work and stayed suspiciously quiet. Harry stopped working and looked closely at him; he was pale and a bit sweaty.

"Dud… is Vernon bothering you?"

Dudley seemed to focus on his planting with a laser precision, "Never mind you."

Harry decided to let the topic drop. No reason to push his cousin if he didn't want to talk about it. He understood that sentiment very well. Harry was about to voice his understanding when a wave a dizziness washed over him, it felt like a breeze fluttered through his mind and wiped away all his thoughts. He swayed for a moment but then steadied himself. Dudley didn't seem to notice and started asking questions again.

"So… Potions is like chemistry?"

Harry glanced at Dudley, "Sort of, I guess."

Dudley nodded, "Does that mean that… m.. mu…. Muggles? That how you say it?" Harry nodded. "Well can Muggles make them?"

Harry stopped working for a moment to think, he reached up and scratched his nose leaving a dirt smudge.

"I don't think so… when you brew a potion there are a bunch of rules about stirring and how to prepare ingredients." Harry collected his thoughts for a moment, Dudley sat back for what he assumed was a bit of a lesson.

"See I have a friend who is muggle-born, means both her parents have no magic."

Dudley sat up straight, "that can happen?"

Harry nodded "Yeah, but I will get back to that. So my friend looked up a bunch of stuff about muggles and magic. She learned that all the stuff you do while making a potion is like a ritual that infuses the potion with some of the maker's magic, plus the magic that is naturally in some ingredients. Together it creates the potion." He was surprised he could recall so much information with such clarity.

Dudley pondered this for a moment, "so if there is magic in the potion then will it work on muggles?"

The answer popped right into Harry's head, he could recall the sound of Hermione's voice as she told him. "Yes and no. See, any potion that is meant to have a short term effect like basic healing potions and such, will probably work on a muggle because it only uses the magic in the potion. Any potion that has a long term effect will run out of magic but then supplements it with a bit of the wizard's magic, like draught of living death that keeps the user in a sleeping death like state."

Dudley's face took on a look of intense concentration, "So you're saying that some potions will work and ones that are meant to last a long time or work for a long time will just stop working on a muggle. Like for those potions the magic is a catalyst?"

Harry's eyes became wide, Dudley sounded… smart. "I reckon that's about right, where did you learn words like catalyst?"

Dudley became slightly red, "been studying… I might need a plan B, you know… if boxing doesn't work out. Dad thinks I'm being a pansy."

A large smile lit up Harry's face, "well, I think it's brilliant."

Dudley smiled back, both of them turned to their work.

Harry was slowly realizing that his cousin was able to pull him out of his depressed mood because he was like a representation of hope. For the last week Harry had been moping around and feeling sorry for himself, but then there was Dudley everyday being less afraid, less prejudice and really trying to improve himself. Harry was still very guilty and very sad, but having his cousin trying to understand him and making up for all the bad years was… uplifting. He hoped Sirius was watching him and smiling, his godfather had always wanted to shake off all the pure blood mentality and right here in his godsons home, was progress.

Harry felt another blanket of fuzzy thoughts descend over his mind as he continued planting, but it was only a few minutes later when his quiet was broken by a strange sound. It was like someone was trying to hold back laughter or…

Harry glanced at Dudley, he wasn't crying but his eyes were glassy and a bit red. He seemed to be trying very hard not to make any sound. Harry reached out awkwardly and placed his hand on his cousin's arm. Dudley turned towards him.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's OK… do you want to… I don't know, talk about it?" Harry mumbled back. This was new territory for them, but who did Dudley really have to talk to? His family was… his family... and his friends were not very genuine.

"It's just… I was hoping you could help me by making a potion that would make dad nicer." Dudley turned completely red. "But then you told me about how it won't last on a muggle so… it doesn't matter."

Harry was confused, why would Dudder's want Vernon to be nicer, he was only mean to Harry.

"Why…?" Harry wasn't sure how to word his question but Dudley seemed to understand and suddenly burst with a flood of words.

"BECAUSE!" He yelled but stopped when he realized how loud he was "Because…," He hissed. "He's mean to you; he's mean to anything different, not just magic. But… but I KNOW you saved me from those Dementy things and that makes you OK in my book, BUT he thinks it's all your fault! AND because he's mean to me about wanting to be smarter… and because… because mum told me about Aunt Lily after the Dementy attack and… dad overheard… and..." Dudley was unable to get the words out, he was thoroughly upset.

Harry was shocked, he could feel the blood draining from his face. "What did he do to your mum?"

Dudley shook his head and took a deep breath, "just forget it Harry, there's nothing we can do right now…"

Harry's expression was hard, he didn't love his aunt but he didn't want anything bad to happen to her. Vernon's only redeeming quality was that he loved his wife and son, but his love was apparently conditional. When he had first gotten home for summer Vernon had knocked him around a bit rougher than usual but Harry assumed it was because his "crazy criminal" godfather was gone. That night he heard his Aunt and Uncle arguing. It was odd since they almost never argued because Petunia just submitted. The next morning his aunt had a bruise on her arm and one on her collar bone. Harry had suspicions but couldn't figure out what would cause Vernon to turn on his wife.

"There is something we can do; just because we can't use a long term potion doesn't mean we can't use short term ones… a lot of them." Harry made eye contact with Dudley, who smiled back.

The curtains of the kitchen window facing the back yard shifted, the movement caught Harry's eye. He peeked over just in time to see his aunt turn away.

The sun was just touching the horizon when Harry and Dudley stood to look at the herb garden they had planted. The sinking sun created a halo of liquid light that bloomed over the fence and surrounded the house. If Harry hadn't grown up here, he would think it was a pleasant place to live.

"I better get inside and clean up before dad gets home," Dudley grimaced as he spoke.

Harry nodded, he watched his cousin slip into the house.

The sun was still shining pale orange light, enough to give the neat backyard an almost other worldly glow. Harry sat down where he stood on the slightly damp grass, and he thought for a moment about how unpleasant the wet spots on his pants would be, but couldn't bring himself to care. He let the calm atmosphere clear his thoughts, the fuzzy wool blanket over his mind lifted a bit and he felt the sting in his heart that he tried to ignore. Only when he was alone and unoccupied did he feel it so acutely.

Sirius was gone, and he was never coming back. The death of someone you love should be literally world ending, and sky shattering, something should be different. Harry glanced around the yard and looked down at the grass between his legs. The world was still turning and the sky was above his head, he reached down and ripped up some of the well-manicured lawn. Throwing the blades into the air and watching them fall, as everything eventually did, brought a odd sort of clarity. Nothing was going to be any different, the war wasn't going to stop and he wasn't going to leave the Dursley's. Sirius might as well have died the day his parents did, his existence was negligible... all it did was hurt Harry.

He curled his fist around another section of the lawn and squeezed, his knuckles became white and his palm stung. Anger, boiling water right under the surface of his skin, coursed through Harry. Sirius surviving his parents made no real difference, it didn't stop Peter, Voldemort still came back, Cedric died… all his existence did was give Harry hope and then rip it away. It flew through the veil with his godfather's body! Hot, liquid frustration rose up and threatened to spill from Harry's eyes, so he squeezed them shut and forced himself to breathe. He wasn't mad at Sirius for trying to be there for him, he was mad at the universe for being affected so little by someone who changed so much for Harry emotionally. His arrival and then his death impacted Harry, shattering him, leaving him made of sharp broken glass.

Harry let go of the grass and turned his hand palm up, little crescent indents were fading quickly from his skin. Nothing he did seemed to make a difference, but if Harry was being honest with himself he wasn't really doing anything at all. He just let life sweep him along and reacted. Maybe he should try and find a way to change the game, start small…

Harry stood up and brushed his pants off. He would have to think about this a bit more, maybe if he was lucky an opportunity would present itself and Harry would take it rather than averting his eyes. Being a reactionary person was getting him nowhere, time to try something new.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway caused Harry to shuffle his feet and slip through the back door and up the stairs. Once he was at the top, he heard the front door open and close, there was a crash and a pound like something was just kicked and hit a wall. "WHAT in the BLOODY HELL is that doing by the door?! IT'S IN MY WAY!"

There was some movement and shuffling and then the soft mumbling of words between his aunt and uncle. His aunt's voice was becoming more shrill, a tone she normally only took with Harry. Not being able to resist Harry crept down the stairs until he was close enough to hear talking from the living room while staying out of sight. Harry's breathing was shallow and every part of his body was taut with tension and just a hint of the metallic sting of fear.

"You didn't let Dudley go around with the freak again today did you?!" Vernon's voice was rising. "Don't look away from me while I talk to you!"

A shuddering breath, like someone trying to keep down panic was audible before Petunia responded.

"NO! Of course not."

Vernon's heavy footfalls indicated he had closed the distance between himself and his wife, heavy breaths were the only sound for a moment. Then a light thud like someone being pressed into a wall. "You better not have, I won't have MY son becoming like that BOY, or like YOU."

Another thud punctuated his sentence.

Vernon stomped back to the front door, luckily he didn't bother looking up the stairwell. He ripped his coat violently off the rack and stormed back out of the house.

The sound of the car peeling out of the driveway and down the street faded; it was replaced with soft hiccupping sobs. A shuffling sound informed Harry that his cousin was sitting on the step right above him. Harry didn't even notice his approach. Dudley looked into Harry's eyes, "He's apparently been like this since last summer, we were away at school and mum was alone with him."

Harry felt his chest constrict as his cousin slid past him and down the stairs. He could hear mumbled reassurances and stifled cries. Harry slid to his feet quietly and walked down the stairs with all the stealth he learned as a child in this house. When he rounded the corner to the space between the foyer and the living room, he saw the shattered remains of a wooden shoe tree that had been by the front door. The splintered wood was piled below a dent in the opposing wall. Harry felt his anger below his skin, so much like how he felt last year. He didn't love his aunt but she didn't deserve to be terrorized. He moved until he could see around the couch. His aunt was sitting on the floor by the TV like she had be unable to stand any longer and just let herself slide down the wall. Her face was covered by both her hands as she cried, she leaned to the side into Dudley's chest. Dudley was kneeling on the floor besides his mother with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. There was nothing he could really do besides hold her until she calmed.

Harry felt very out of place; this was a family crisis, but he wasn't really a part of this family. He stood awkwardly, he felt like he was watching something he shouldn't be, he was invading a private moment. Harry had never been very good at comforting others and crying women were even harder for him. Anger and sadness swirled in his mind as he watched.

Dudley looked up at Harry after a few minutes. Their eyes met and Harry felt his anger become hotter and his chest constrict tighter, his torso felt like a pressure cooker. His cousin's eyes were glassy and pleading, he slowly shook his head. Harry gave a stiff nod and turned to quietly go upstairs. He knew Dudley would be up there with him after his aunt Petunia was calmed.

It was almost 30 minutes later when Harry heard any sound of life in the house. There was a thud repeating over and over like someone was slowly dragging something heavy up the stairs. Harry went to the hallway and saw Dudley struggling to drag a trunk to the landing, he was halfway up and breathing hard. After a moment of confusion Harry recognized the trunk as his own Hogwarts trunk, the realization took a moment to sink in, he scrambled to help his cousin with the burden. Harry scooted past Dudley to get behind the trunk and push up. Once they were on level ground each boy took a side and carried it to Harry's room. When the door closed both boys started talking at once.

"What are you-"

"Mum let me-"

Harry stopped and let Dudley speak first, he was probably trying to answer Harry's question while he was asking. Dudley recognized the silence as his cue.

"It took me a while but I convinced mum that you can and will help and she unlocked the cupboard and let me take your things. I know you can't use your wand during break but I thought… maybe." Dudley trailed off not really sure what he was asking for.

Harry didn't respond, he walked over to the trunk and flipped the top up. He rustled around inside until he pulled out his first year potions book. Having all of his supplies in the trunk since his first year is what made it so heavy, he had no place else to store his things. Harry shook that depressing thought out of his mind and began flipping through the manual.

Dudley stood nervously behind the smaller boy, he shifted from one foot to another and rubbed his hands together. "I… umm, Harry?"

Harry looked over his shoulder.

"Just don't hurt him please," Dudley pleaded.

Harry felt a momentary dizziness flow through his mind, for a brief moment his cousin request seemed idiotic, why wouldn't they hurt Vernon? He was a bully and a brute, then as fast as it came over him the feeling left. Harry gave Dudley a reassuring nod, as he mentally told himself it was normal to want to hurt people who have hurt you… right?

Yes, well no time to contemplate that thought, Harry rebuked himself as he came to the page of the textbook he was looking for. He held the book out to Dudley who took it with cautious movements. The larger boy read over the potion description and gave a small nod.

"This should do," He whispered. His round face was very pale and his eyes were bright.

Harry assumed that using magic was still rather off putting to the boy. He was also probably upset it had come down to this last resort with his father. Harry wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, he could hear Ron in his head telling him to do it, the magic hater deserved it and the irony was hilarious. On his other shoulder, Hermione was telling him it wasn't moral to dose people with potions without their consent, that it was manipulation. Harry hoped that the potion he chose to use would be a good middle ground.

Harry took the book back from Dudley and began looking over the ingredients. It was a water based potion, that's a relief. Harry looked over his oil base supply and saw it was very low. He pulled out his standard size 2 pewter cauldron and a set of forty small glass vial about the size of his little finger and laid them out neatly. He looked back at the book and made a note of the ingredients he had in his potion kit. He pulled out the last of his golden root and chopped it finely with his silver potion knife, he placed the root on a square of parchment and put it to the side.

Harry was glad this was an easy first year potion, otherwise he would be worried about poisoning his uncle. He pulled out his last rose quartz crystal and ground it into a fine powder and put that aside on paper as well. Next was morning dew, Harry had plenty of that. He took out a vial and put it aside. The last ingredient was burn hazel… Harry tried to remember what that was.

Dudley was once again shifting nervously, when Harry stopped moving it seemed to unsettle him.

"Ah!" Harry exclaimed as he remembered.

Dudley, startled by the outburst, became even whiter.

"Sorry Dud, I just remembered that burn hazel is also called nettle."

Dudley's blank face told Harry he needed to explain.

"Nettle is the one of the plants we put out back, it's the one with the prickly texture you complained about."

Dudley nodded then took off out the door to get the plant. It was only moments before he was back panting and holding out a few leaves. While Harry prepared the nettle he told Dudley to get a liter of water. By the time the water arrived Harry had the leaves prepared and on their own square of paper.

Both boys sat in silence as they waited for the water to boil, they were using Harry's portable self-lighting potion burner. Once the water was at the appropriate temperature Harry pulled out his glass stirrer and began. This was a very simple potion and would take only thirty minutes. Harry was stirring fifteen times clockwise when a faint glow went from his fingers, down the rod he was using and into the potion. On the fifteenth revolution the potion turned a bright sunny yellow like it was supposed to. Harry knew his magic and the magic in the ingredients was the reason all the stuff he put in the potion could become one cohesive, smooth liquid of a color that made little sense, but he was always in a crowded potion class and never really paid attention. Here in the dim, quiet bedroom, he could see the subtle glow of magic and feel it working. For the first time, Harry felt like he understood why some people loved potions. It wasn't a wand movement and some words that forced magic to be what you wanted, it was a soft coercion, while whispering sweet nothings to the magic until you convinced it that it wanted to be a part of the potion all along. Harry definitely understood why so many Slytherins excelled at potions and why no matter how hard Hermione tried to do everything perfectly her potions came out just a tad lighter or darker than they were supposed to. There really was a touch to making potions that some people had and some people didn't. Harry wondered if he had it, and if it was how he had made it this far when everything in class was against him.

Harry reached for the last ingredient, the morning dew. He read the instructions that told him to pour the dew directly into the middle of the potion. Harry thought for a moment about what reason there was behind the instruction but decided that he could experiment later and did as the book said. The potion turned a softer slightly transparent yellow like it was supposed to. Harry imagined there was an even more pleasant yellow it could be if the recipe was tweaked by a master.

"OK." Harry said as he put the glass bottle of dew back. He turned off the burner and started to clean up. "Now we wait for it to cool."

Dudley nodded, and for the first time since Harry started brewing the larger boy sat down. He crossed his leg on the other side of the cauldron. Harry thought about how surreal it was to be sitting here brewing with his cousin watching and being generally OK with all of it, odd how time changes everything.

When the potion was only steaming a little bit, Harry pulled out his ladle and began scooping and pouring the thin liquid into the small glass vials. Dudley watched with rapt attention, and after Harry finished and capped the third vial Dudley asked if he could help. Harry reached into his kit, took out his secondary ladle, and handed it to the other boy. Together, they soon had all forty small vials filled with corks in the top. Harry reached into his kit one more time and pulled out a small brass bowl and turned on the portable burner and placed the bowl over it. He dropped what looked to Dudley like a couple of chunks of wax into the bowl and waited, occasionally poking the chunks until they were melted.

"What now?" Dudley asked.

"Well we want this potion to last, so we are sealing the bottles."

Dudley nodded. Once the wax was a smooth liquid Harry pulled out a box with slots in it the same size as the vials. He picked up a vial and demonstrated dipping the top of it in the wax until where the cork met the glass was covered, then he let some wax drip off and put it in the box where the slots held the vial upright so it could dry. Dudley repeated the process with Harry until all the vial were sealed. Harry closed the box with a heavy hand, "I hope this works" he muttered.

"Me too," Dudley whispered.

"Hey, it's not that big a deal, it's just a simple Cheering Potion. If it doesn't work it won't hurt Vernon. Because he is a muggle, it should wear off after about 12 hours. So, we put it in his breakfast and dinner, or evening tea would be better, then see what happens." Harry sounded much more confident than he felt.

"What happens after we run out?" Dudley sounded worried.

"Well, I'm hoping after a whole summer of being cheered and thinking everything's OK artificially, he might just start actually thinking like that…" Again Harry put more confidence in his voice than he felt.

Harry wasn't sure if anything he said was true or if what he was doing was right, but he couldn't see any other option. He didn't want to admit it to Dudley, but he was afraid of what Vernon would do if he kept at Petunia the way he was. According to his cousin, it had been getting worse and worse, and his mum would call him at school upset. The only other option would be if Petunia and Vernon separated. Harry highly doubted that would happen, Petunia wasn't strong enough and Vernon would just terrorize her into silence. Eventually, Dudley would have to take matters into his own hands and Harry wasn't sure how that would end… so, this potion was it. Last chance.

Harry picked up the wood box and placed it on his lap. The clinking of vials inside settled down and Harry counted them. There would be enough in half a vial for about twelve-ish hours. The book said it would last that long on its own and twenty-four with the user's magic. So for a muggle it was twelve hours. Harry looked up from the box to his cousin. "So, now that I made this, will you tell me what's really going on?"

Dudley's eyes became wide. "I told you, Dad overheard mum talking about-"

"No." Harry cut him off, "it can't just be about my mum."

Dudley's face became tight, he looked at the box in Harry's lap and sighed.

"If I tell you, promise you won't tell anyone?"

Harry nodded, "I promise"

Dudley took a deep breath and let it out, "She really was talking about your mum. I told her that you and magic couldn't be all bad because you saved me. Mum told me about aunt Lily… she told me lots of stories. She sounded nice." Dudley let a small smile slip onto his face.

Harry smiled back.

"Then while mum was talking she seemed to be thinking about something. She looked like she was struggling. Then, she told me that since I didn't hate magic anymore, that she would tell me something she never told anyone… she said that she was a squib. I asked what that was and she explained. That's when dad burst in and… well, you know." Dudley had a pained look on his face. He met his cousin's green eyes with a determined expression, "I want you to know something, and mum would never say this to you directly, so I will. She told me that when you saved my life, she felt like maybe it was aunt Lily letting her know it was time for her to let go of her anger. That maybe you were sent to her for that reason. Now you are helping us again, so… yeah, that's all."

Harry was shocked, his aunt wasn't completely normal after all, and she was forgiving her sister. She probably saw lots of thing other people didn't, just like Ms. Figg. Maybe she had hoped when she was younger that she might be a witch too, and when she wasn't… well Harry didn't forgive Petunia, but he definitely understood her better. It also explained why she had been somewhat nice to him this summer. She still gave him a ton of chores, but he had found it odd he only got the ones he liked, such as cooking or gardening. Now that he thought about it she might have been doing it as a cover so Vernon wouldn't think she was going easy on him.

Dudley was twisting his hands in his shirt and looked nervous. Harry thought he might want to ask something and was about to invite him to speak when he burst all of a sudden, "you don't think I could be one, do you?!"

Harry raised an eyebrow, "a squib?"

Dudley nodded.

"When the dementor attacked you did you see anything?"

Dudley shook his head negative, "no, just felt like… felt..."

"Yeah they feel like that for me too, but if you couldn't see it then you aren't a squib." Harry explained.

It was late when they finished talking, both boys got ready for bed. Dudley checked on his mum and she was sleeping, Harry put the potion box under the loose floorboard and climbed into bed. He rolled over, switched his lamp off and looked into the darkness of the room.

"Weird day…" he muttered before drifting to sleep.

"On this day in history: people related to you whose names you do not know performed actions that were never recorded."

-Night Vale

AN- This is the bottom of the page, there is no more past this. Nothing after this sentence. Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.

2/13/2017

Readjusted.

The greatest feat any human accomplishes in their life is readjusting. During extreme circumstances humans are endlessly adaptable.