This is the fifth part of the long series "Perfectly Normal". It is a completed work of twenty chapters, and will update with a new chapter every Tuesday morning (Australian time) until they're all up.

If it's been a while since you read the previous works, you may be interested to hear that I've written summaries to help you refresh your memory. Please check out the supplementary work "Perfectly Normal: Have You Forgotten What Happened in this Series?" if you don't want to reread the series. Be warned that of course it contains major spoilers for all the completed fics in this series.

Saturday 18th June 1994

Harry wondered dispiritedly why he'd hoped his summer would be any good. He guessed he'd dreamt that with Sirius Black no longer regarded as a threat, everything would somehow go back to normal. But between Mr. Weasley's patronising attempts to be friendly, Lucius and Sirius' aborted duel and sneering attitudes, and Professor McGonagall's well-meant but ultimately very troublesome warning about Death Eaters, all the adults at the train station couldn't have ruined his uncle's mood and Harry's hopes for a pleasant holiday better if they'd actively tried to. For so many adults who purportedly cared a lot about his wellbeing they all seemed rather oblivious to the troubles they'd inflicted on him with a few ill-chosen words and contemptuous looks.

Uncle Vernon hadn't driven very far from King's Cross station before he pulled the car over to park in the first vacant spot he found. He left the engine running with a quiet purr, so the air-conditioning would keep his sweaty, flabby face cool while he talked with Harry. It seemed likely to be less of an amiable chat, and more like an interrogation. Harry tensed up, eying his uncle's face and hands warily as he twisted around in his seat to face Harry. Harry was glad his position in the back seat put some distance between them.

"Alright boy, start talking. These criminal freaks who've broken out of prison – start with explaining that." The scowl on his face promised dire things if Harry wasn't co-operative.

"They're not, they're… umm… they've broken out, someone broke them out of prison. About a dozen? But they're not after me. I swear they're not, Uncle Vernon! There hasn't been a single problem with them all year. I mean, not me, not anyone. They're on the run, just in hiding, and the Aur… their police are after them. They're not a risk to us, I don't think... I wouldn't want to endanger anyone, you know that," Harry babbled. "Professor McGonagall just thought you should know, just in case."

Uncle Vernon grunted angrily. "Hmph! But you didn't think to tell us did you, boy? That's the problem with you – always thinking of yourself. Selfish, that's what you are. You didn't think to warn your family about it! No, you just left it to a teacher."

Harry slunk down miserably in his seat. "I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon. Really very sorry. I guess I didn't write about it because it didn't seem like it'd be a real danger. Please let me come home - I promise if any strange wizards do show up, I'll deal with them." Harry thought about adding how the wards around Privet Drive would be recharged with a mere fortnight's stay there but remembered in time how distasteful the Dursleys had found the idea last summer when Mr. Parkinson had raised the possibility of putting up magical wards. Best not to raise the topic.

"Too right you'll deal with them! I won't have my family endangered. Your kind, your problem, I say," Uncle Vernon pronounced stubbornly. "If you want to come home at all you'll work twice as hard at your chores! No slacking off this summer – I won't have any ingratitude for taking you back into my home. You'll earn your keep."

His uncle's casual definition of "family" as something that excluded Harry gripped at his heart with a tight clench of pain. Nothing he ever did was good enough. And this problem wasn't even his fault! So how was he supposed to fix it?

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," he said meekly. It was all he could do, really.

"So," continued his uncle, "what's all this about a 'second pet'? What have you got already, then?"

Harry lied, swift and certain. "I don't have one. I was just thinking of getting one, maybe a cat. But I won't if you don't want me to."

His uncle glared suspiciously at him. "If you have a pet hidden away and don't tell me about it right now, I will find it and wring its scrawny neck."

Harry's face blanched with fear. "I… I guess…" he stammered anxiously.

"What is it?" boomed his uncle. "What have you got, boy?!"

"A… a snake. I have a pet snake. But he's no trouble, no trouble at all, he's not venomous or anything. He's just a baby really and you won't even know he's-"

"-I won't have a slimy snake in my house! That's no decent, normal pet!" yelled his uncle, slamming both his hands hard on the steering wheel with a dull thump, then shaking them in an attempt to relieve the stinging pain on his flabby palms.

"I can send him away," Harry babbled anxiously, hunching back into the car seat, "if you won't let him stay at home. I'll send him to a friend. You don't need to hurt him, Storm is such a nice friendly snake, I promise. He's not venomous, or at all slimy."

"You'll get rid of him, or I will," threatened Uncle Vernon. "Permanently."

"I will, I promise I will! He'll be gone by bedtime!"

"And there'll be no dinner for you tonight, you nasty liar. You thought you could get one past me, did you? Thought you'd make a fool out of me, you sneaky little freak? Well you're the fool."

Uncle Vernon started the car and began driving them home again after that, relieving his feelings by listing with relish the multitude of chores that Harry would be spending the summer doing in penance for the sins of bringing trouble to the family again, and trying to lie about his pet. He also praised his own generosity in allowing Harry to come home at all, which he demanded Harry's grateful thanks for.

Harry obliged with a grateful smile on his face and rebellion in his heart. He hoped desperately that Storm would keep sleeping his way through the drive in Harry's satchel and that his pet would remember his instructions not to poke his head curiously out of the bag to see what was going on – no matter what he heard.

Back at Privet Drive, Harry was sent immediately to his room, only getting to wave very briefly to his aunt and startled cousin on the way past.

He called for Dobby as soon as his bedroom door was closed, and the little manic house-elf was delighted beyond measure to be summoned.

"Dobby is so glad Master Harry called for him! What can Dobby do? Dobby can clean Master's room!" Dobby moved to tug at the sheets on Harry's imperfectly made bed, before Harry called him over.

"No, please stop. Dobby, I have a very important task for you, so please be quiet and listen, alright?"

"Yes, Master Harry! Dobby would love to have some work to do! Dobby is enjoying being free of old Master's family, but sometimes Dobby would be liking some more work."

"Can you look after Storm? I'm afraid my uncle found out about him and says he can't stay here in Surrey. Can you take him to Potter Cottage and look after him until I collect him? It might be a couple of weeks, or a month. I'm not sure. Can you do that?"

"Oh, yes, Dobby would love to look after snakey! Storm will have fun swimming in Master's pond Dobby has built in the garden, with little fishies in it. Dobby has worked very hard for Master," he promised earnestly. "He can curl up on his favourite rug in the nursery. Dobby will take great care of Master's snakey."

With great relief, Harry pulled Storm's miniaturised tank from his trunk and retrieved Storm from his satchel.

"Wake up, Ssstorm! We're home and sssafe. Well, sssort of," he hissed.

"Finally," grumbled his snake sleepily. "You were very noisy. I remembered to ssstay quiet like you sssaid, though. I'm cold. Warm me."

Harry wound him around his bared arm, so Storm could soak up his body heat while they chatted.

"Dobby, could you please take Storm's tank and things to Potter Cottage and then come back for Storm in a couple of minutes?" he asked politely.

"Right away!" Dobby said, grabbing the tank and popping away.

"Ssstorm, I'm afraid I have sssome bad news," he hissed, and explained the situation, getting a mixed response.

"Well, your elderss here are foolss not to appreciate sssnakess. But… I don't like it here anyway. It is cold and boring, and you don't let me go hunting for mice. I will agree to go to the other den that has a pond with fish," he said, granting his approval with an air of one doing a great favour, "but you must not forget about me. I shall have no-one to talk to there, and that is dull too."

"I promise I'll never forget you," assured Harry. "I shall come for you as sssoon as I can, or Dobby will bring you to me in a few weekss if my planss have to change. Definitely before ssschool begins again, because I promised to ssspend at least a week visiting with Sssirius, and go to watch Quidditch with him, and you can rejoin me then for sure."

"Ah, the Dog-man I hit with lightning. Yess, fetch me and I shall guard you while you are in his territory. We must watch him carefully and be sure he knowss his place."

Dobby returned to transport Storm away, which he was allowed to do only after listening attentively to Harry's last-minute fussy instructions about proper snake care (which Dobby already knew from last summer but listened to with obedient patience anyway). Harry also had a few extra hissed instructions for Storm about behaving himself and not being mean to Dobby, before the duo popped away.

-000-

There was a quarter of a grapefruit on Harry's breakfast plate. He poked at it disappointedly. It was a dispiriting start to the day, after suffering a weird nightmare the night before featuring Bellatrix Lestrange, that he barely remembered. He didn't dare complain about his breakfast though, because everyone had the same sad offering. Though Harry thought his portion was perhaps a little smaller than everyone else's.

Dudley was on a strict diet under orders from his school nurse, who had been completely unswayed by all the Dursleys' arguments about "puppy fat" and "growing boys who need plenty of food". The Dursleys were still willing to explain away Dudley's bullying as boisterousness, and his below average grades as resulting from him being a gifted boy who struggled with a regimented and unaccommodating school system. However, it seemed that Aunt Petunia, faced with the harsh and formal report from the school nurse about her son's weight and her own enabling of the problem, had finally conceded that Dudley might be just a little bit overweight. And if poor Ickle Dudleykins had to diet, everyone had to join him in solidarity.

Harry was rationing the food he had cached in his trunk, and thought it'd last through the second week that was the minimum he planned to stay at the Dursleys'. They might not care about blood wards or want them, but Harry wanted to protect his family even if they'd never know about or appreciate his efforts. Not that he was exactly sure what the wards did. But protective rune-based wards reinforced with blood must do something especially beneficial, surely? After that… well he could leave any time he wanted to. And with every day that passed in back-breaking labour and starvation rations he wanted to escape for good just a little bit more.

Uncle Vernon had been complaining occasionally about "rabbit food", but there wasn't as much grumbling from him as Harry had initially expected. He suspected Uncle Vernon was probably sneakily stopping off to buy a bacon butty every morning on the way to work, and an early dinner on the way home. There was a telling accumulation of greasy paper bags in the rubbish bins, and the car had smelt faintly of bacon and hamburgers the last time Harry had vacuumed the seats and floor rugs after washing the exterior – just one of the many chores he'd had to do over the past few days.

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked hesitantly. "I have exams to take tomorrow in London, at a National Examination Centre. Normal exams – like for Maths. I was wondering if you or Aunt Petunia could drive me, or if I could have money for the train?"

His uncle looked mulish. "Have you cleaned the driveway? Finished painting the fence?"

"Yes sir, the fence was finished yesterday, and I hosed down the driveway and weeded the edges the day before that. This morning I've weeded the flower beds and mowed the lawn, and I've made a bowl of salad for lunch."

Repainting the fence had been a mammoth job, as the painful blisters on his hands could attest. It hadn't been as simple as painting over the old coat of paint. He'd had to scrape the old paint off the fence, sand it, then repaint it with two coats. Then he'd had to clean up every tiny splatter of paint that had dared to encroach on the garden plants.

Harry thought that if Dudley really wanted to lose weight – like he actually seemed to – a little exercise outside helping paint the fence wouldn't hurt him either. But no-one seemed to care about Harry's opinion.

At least Dudley appreciated Harry's more creative approach to meals. Aunt Petunia's diet lunch yesterday had consisted of a single lettuce leaf filled with grated carrot. Given that, it was no surprise to Harry that Dudley's face had lit up with happiness at the news that his cousin had prepared today's lunch. Harry's meals were consistently much tastier and more generously sized, and yet still managed to meet the nurse's criteria for healthy eating.

"The boy may as well go," said Aunt Petunia dismissively. "We don't want to have to explain to his correspondence school why he never showed up for his exams. At least he's still showing an interest in normal school subjects, after his years at that school."

Uncle Vernon grunted his acquiescence, and Harry let out an imperceptibly quiet sigh of relief.

That decided, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon promptly seemed to forget Harry was there. They blithely ignored him while discussing whether Petunia should drive Harry to London or give him train money and save herself the trouble, all while acting as if Harry were not sitting right in front of them. The issue was decided in the end by a jealous interjection by Dudley.

"I don't see why Harry should get to go to London and I don't," he whined with typical self-centredness. "It's my birthday tomorrow and I should get to do whatever I want! I don't want to go to the movies anymore. Piers and Gordon say they've already seen The Crow and don't want to see it again. I want to go to London too!"

Dudley's birthday plans were thus extremely swiftly rearranged, and he was promptly promised a birthday outing in London while Harry sat his exams. His mother's suggested outing to a museum was turned down as being too "boring", as were parks and the zoo.

"How about seeing the Tower of London and hearing the ghost stories?" suggested Harry, which made Aunt Petunia flinch uncomfortably.

"No ghost stories!" bellowed Uncle Vernon, which made Harry shrink back in his seat and murmur an apology. Harry kept his suggestions to himself after that.

In the end, Dudley decided that he wanted to see the "Changing the Guard" ceremony, and then tour Buckingham Palace with his two best friends. To everyone's relief that outing was pronounced suitable by his parents, and was sufficiently unacademic to cater to Dudley's preference of not having to learn anything he didn't absolutely have to while on holidays (especially not on his birthday).

Harry's morning was spent unexcitedly scrubbing the bathroom and wishing he could do magic because there was a spell to clean tiles, and then it would have been over in seconds. He'd used it down in the Chamber of Secrets and with a bit of repetition it'd worked great to clean up years of accumulated grime and dust.

After everyone had enjoyed (or suffered through) their lunch of a big bowl of salad – mixed leafy greens and some baked vegetable cubes with a dressing of balsamic vinegar and wholegrain mustard – Harry was given grudging permission to spend some rare free time revising for the next day's exams. Time which Dudley promptly interrupted.

Harry and his cousin hadn't spent a lot of time together yet these holidays, except for Dudley excitedly pouncing on him the night he'd come home to stridently demand answers about what had happened with Sirius Black. Dudley had reported that the knife he'd lent Harry had been posted back to him at Smeltings by the Ministry. Dudley thought it was "wicked" that Harry had actually stabbed someone with it, and that Harry was now good friends with an ex-con.

Dudley made himself comfortable sitting on Harry's bed and the old bedsprings creaked alarmingly under his weight. But he didn't seem in any hurry to get to the point, asking about what had happened to Harry's pet snake, complaining about school, and boasting about his boxing matches. Every so often he'd pause hesitantly, looking like he wanted to say something but had thought better of it. Then he started chattering on about something else.

Eventually he got to the point, much to Harry's relief. "I was wondering…" he said slowly and cautiously, "if there might be a… magic way to lose weight faster."

So that's what he wants, Harry thought in wonderment. Despite all his aunt and uncle's rants against magic and freakishness, Dudley himself wasn't averse to looking for a magical shortcut when faced with the prospect of months of lettuce leaf lunches. Harry didn't blame him.

"Sorry Dud, I can't think of any. If there was a potion to make you thinner I would expect Professor Slughorn would've made and taken it by now and he's still pretty fat. He's our Potions professor. There's a Deflating Draught, but it's really just an antidote to the Swelling Solution," Harry mused thoughtfully. "I don't think it can make you any smaller than how you started. Anyway, even if there is a good potion you couldn't take it, because you're not a wizard."

Dudley scowled angrily, looking a lot like his father with his piggish expression. "That's not fair! You should just give it to me anyway. I don't care about your stupid rules. No-one would have to know – I wouldn't snitch."

"No, you see, it's not that I wouldn't want to give it to you, it's that it wouldn't be safe. Not because I'd get in trouble, but because it could be poisonous to you. Potions use magical ingredients like chopped Flobberworms or Bubotuber pus, or even poisons like aconite. And they're safe for wizards because we have magic and it interacts with the potions. But you're a Muggle, or more likely a Squib, and that means what's safe for me might make you sick, or even kill you! And we don't want that, obviously."

"What's a Squib?"

"Uh, do you remember your lessons in Science on genetics?"

"No."

"Well, you know how two people with brown eyes can have a child with blue eyes?"

"Oh yes! That. Yeah, I remember now."

"That's because of recessive genes. And a Squib is someone from a magical family who doesn't have enough magic to be a wizard or witch but might have a tiny bit of magic. And they might have kids who are magical. Because they have recessive genes for magical ability."

Dudley's jaw dropped open in shock, giving him a few extra folds on his neck. "I could have frea… magical kids?" Dudley asked in shock. "What would mum and dad say about that!?"

"Nothing good, I expect," Harry said matter-of-factly. "But you might have them, all the same. Especially if you accidentally married someone with magical ancestry herself. I personally don't think there's any such thing as 'Muggle-borns' – witches and wizards from non-magical families popping up out of nowhere. I think the recessive trait for magic use sometimes manifests when you've got a couple where both of them have Squib ancestry."

Dudley's brow furrowed in thought. "But that doesn't mean I have magic relatives. Not counting you. I mean, it's your mum who was magical. And your dad. My mum isn't. So I'm safe. Those gene thingies that make people magic aren't in my family. We got the normal genes."

"Except Aunt Petunia's mum – Grandma Heather – was a Squib. And her parents – Orcus and Daisy Parkinson – were a wizard and a witch. So you could have magical genes - it could just be recessive. Just like it could be recessive for Aunt Petunia.

"I think my mum must've had magical genetic inheritance from both sides, to be a Muggle-born. Which is really interesting if it's true! Anyway, Aunt Petunia probably only got recessive genes from one side – luck of the draw. Or she mightn't have got it from either side and thus ended up perfectly normal – a Muggle. And maybe Uncle Vernon's family doesn't have any recessive genes at all, so you never had a chance of getting any magical genes from his side and could never have had a chance of being born a wizard.

"You might be alright, or you might not, when it comes to having kids of your own. Wizards haven't studied it properly yet. It's on my to-do list for things to research when I'm older." Harry finished his long speech with a grin, but Dudley didn't look amused.

"I don't like it," he scowled.

"Try not to worry about it," Harry advised. "Though... I wouldn't chat with your mum about it – she's very touchy about the subject. Either way, you're not a wizard. And odds are good your kids won't be either, if you have any. If you're a Squib, it just means you'd be more resistant to Muggle-Repelling Wards and able to sense some magical creatures, that sort of thing. And you might be able to use some potions."

Dudley perked up. "Like a diet potion?"

"Sorry Dudley," Harry apologised. "I'll double-check my books, but I'm pretty sure there's no such thing, or there wouldn't be so many fat wizards. You'll have to stick with dieting. Some more exercise would help too. You could practice your boxing more or go for runs in the morning."

Dudley scowled in disappointment and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

A/N: Hello again everyone! :D I missed you guys. 3 This fifth part in the "Perfectly Normal" series covers Harry's summer before his fourth year at Hogwarts and will update every Tuesday morning (Australian time) with a new chapter until all twenty chapters are up. That's right, this fic is already complete and is being posted episodically.

Thanks to all my loyal readers and reviewers, including my guest reviewers (whom alas I can't respond to individually). Please leave a little review if you enjoyed this chapter or you'd like to chat about your hopes for what you'd enjoy seeing in the next fic in the series. I appreciate all reviews both long and short, and I welcome polite constructive criticism. If you see a typo or other error, please feel most welcome to point it out.

Extra thanks to my stable of spot checkers and beta readers who helped polish this fic, including Zu Wang (beta), and Jennybeth98 (Britpicking). Many other wonderful people have helped with spot checks for particular chapters or aspects of the story, and I will list them on the relevant chapter/s. Thank you all! Any lingering errors remain my own responsibility.