Wow, I'm really on a role with this story! This has never happened before (and please don't get used to it, I'll feel really guilty if you do)

When I type out this story, I feel like it's progressing too fast, but also not fast enough... I'm so out of practice T.T

Disclaimer: I don't, and in all probability, never will, own Harry Potter.

Warnings: Other than Petunia's mad mental musings and a tiny reference to past child abuse, no warnings for this chapter.

I apologize in advance for any grammar/spelling errors, a few mistakes might have slipped through my editing (I don't have a beta, so thank goodness for spell check)

Harry was a magical child.

It was the thirty-first of July. To an outsider, this date held no meaning; it was just another Wednesday morning and many on Privet Drive were climbing out of bed and looking forward to the weekend that still felt so far away. This was not so in number four. Petunia woke with a sense of apprehension, like something terrible was about to happen and went about her morning routine with a strange stiffness in her movements. Harry turns eleven today. This was it. Would he turn out to be normal like her or freakish like his mother? It was while she was preparing breakfast for her husband and son, both still grousing sleepily at the table, that she felt it;that feeling of imminent disaster. Harry had just come in with the mail and Petunia refused to believe her eyes when she saw him place all but one on the kitchen counter. He kept that one in his hand, large green eyes confused but eagerly reading over the envelope. No, it can't be! NO! He was supposed to be normal!

Petunia stared almost disbelievingly at the incriminating letter resting innocently in Harry's little hand. Vernon and Dudley had sneered at the idea of someone writing to "a filthy cretin like Harry" and exchanged mocking laughs, but as soon as they caught sight of her pallid face and almost panicked disposition, the disparaging comments were silenced.

With a snarl in his voice, Vernon latched on to the back of Harry's too-large jumper with his meaty fist and yanked him toward the table, "Why are you keeping the letter, boy? Don't you know these letters are not for you, you stupid piece of shit?"

Petunia watched with a strange sense of detachment as Harry politely bowed his head but resolutely held on to the envelope with a firm grip, "Yes, sir, these letters are all for you, but this one is addressed to me."

Sneering, Vernon snatched the letter away with a derisive snort, "Who would be writing to you?" His eyes narrowed at the recipient's address, written in careful calligraphy on the front of the envelope:

Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4, Privet Drive,
Little Whinging,
Surrey

There was a strange feeling of finality when Vernon turned the envelope over to reveal the wax seal. His eyes flew open and Petunia felt her world crumble when Vernon's bellow of anger shook with badly concealed fear. No one can protect us from Him now.

"What? What's wrong, daddy?" Dudley chirped obliviously from the other end of the table, "If it really is for the freak, just toss it out with the rubbish. S'not like it'll actually be important if it's for a loser like Harry."

"Dudley, hush," Petunia managed. The Dursleys were already in deep trouble if the cold glint of curiosity in those green eyes was any indication. There was no point in antagonizing him further; it would only make their deaths more miserable, she was certain of it. She felt her knees quake when Harry tilted his head and peered into her soul expectantly with his toxic emerald gaze. She looked to Vernon and knew he shared her same dilemma. Harry was magic. He could hurt them all; badly, if he wanted to. Should Harry be given his letter and accept the invitation to learn more magic and potentially become an even bigger threat than he already was? Or should he be refused his letter and immediately risk his wrath? Petunia found both outcomes infinitely terrifying, but felt her decision leaning toward refusal, the consequences be damned. After all, Harry had shown no signs of magical talent whatsoever, so they could probably get away unscathed if he really didn't know how to use magic. They could keep it that way too by declining his acceptance. They were his guardians after all and free to make that decision.

Just as she was about to tell Vernon to toss the letter, Vernon, the short-sighted fool, decided to give Harry the envelope, fearing the immediate potential consequences of refusing to return the letter. Harry gingerly took the letter back and gave them all a close-lipped little smile and trotted off back into his little cupboard. Resisting the urge to cry and bang her head against the table, Petunia could almost hear Vernon's internal justification. "We're not prepared to protect ourselves right now. If we give him his blasted letter now, we can postpone his enraged magical outburst and get rid of him later when his guard is down."

"Dad," Came an outraged cry of disbelief, "why'd you give the freak the letter?! No one sends me any mail, so why should he keep it?! I want it! Make him bring it back!"

"Quiet, Dudley!" Petunia hissed. The danger may be temporarily avoided, but Vernon's short-sightedness just guaranteed future misery for the Dursleys. Giving the boy even more of a reason to dislike them would-

Wait a second.

Petunia's her inner panic screeched to a grinding halt.

Was I about to let this miserable little creature walk all over me like a doormat? I am his aunt! His guardian! I am in charge of him! Vernon and I are the authoritative powers in this household, and we are not about to step aside and let that pathetic little bugger run the show. He hasn't shown any talent for magic at all these past eleven years, despite the fact that we've beaten him and abused him. He can't fight back! Why are we so scared of him? He doesn't even have a wand yet! Demanding him to relinquish that letter will be easy! He can't do anything to us now, but if he goes to that godforsaken school, he will learn to defend himself. We have to strike now and make sure that doesn't happen!

Throwing logic and self-preservation to the wind, Petunia conveniently forgot that Harry was an intelligent child. If he did have magic, he was smart enough to deduce how dangerous it was to expose his powers. He would have taken special measures to ensure his safety, making especially certain that he was never suspected for anything strange. Petunia forgot about the absolute void of trust present between Harry and the Dursleys; that coming forward and admitting to people that clearly hated him that he had magic was completely illogical and, therefore, did not belong in Harry's polite but calculating behavior. Common sense abandoned her in that instant. Her head full of rage and a misplaced sense of authority, Petunia marched toward the staircase to the beat of Dudley's cheers and Vernon's confused calls of her name.

Rapping sharply against the closed cupboard door, Petunia felt satisfaction as she yelled, "BOY! YOU COME OUT HERE THIS INSTANT! THAT LETTER DOES NOT BELONG TO YOU. YOU WILL GIVE IT BACK RIGHT NOW IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU! HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE FEELING OF HAVING A HOT FRYING PAN PRESSED INTO YOUR SKIN? BECAUSE I CAN-"

"You can what, Aunt Petunia?"

Petunia stopped her screaming when the door clicked open to reveal a calm, collected Harry, an empty envelope in one hand, an unfolded letter in the other. His large empty eyes bore into hers and suddenly, common sense came rushing back from its brief, wrath induced vacation. Petunia stared into the blank verdant chasms Harry dared to call eyes and she knew fear again.

"Are you certain you want to finish that sentence, Aunt Petunia," Harry suddenly stepped forward and Petunia found herself scrambling to get away, "because it sounded a lot like a threat, and I know that the Dursleys on Privet Drive would never threaten a child for reading his own letter, right?" There was a faint crackling in the air, and those empty green eyes began to glow with a primal power. The air became heavy and stifling, and a cloud of dread and absolute terror descended on her. Petunia found that her knees were knocking too hard together for her legs to hold her up properly and promptly sagged to the floor. Absently, she heard a vague scream of fury from Vernon. As if in a trance, she watched sluggishly as Vernon charged forward with his fist trained on his target. Harry just stood there, unblinking, and she just knew Vernon would get hurt.

Before Vernon could even get within striking distance, a brilliant blue sheet of magic was erected around Harry and the moment Vernon's fist made contact, the bones in his hands shattered. Vernon screamed in agony and stared at his ruined hand in disbelief. Petunia almost fainted then and there. She remembered how Lily had to wave a wand and say silly incantations to do anything significant with magic. The boy hadn't so much as twitched. Despite being a normal, non-magical person, Petunia recognized power and talent when she saw it. Oh, how could we have been so wrong? Where did this power come from? Why is he so strong? How could we have not noticed he was practicing magic right under our noses?!

"Use your words, Uncle Vernon. A gentleman like you should not have to resort to violence to make a point." That chilling, unfeeling voice had both Petunia and Vernon quaking with terror. Harry's oppressing magic bore down on them like a physical weight and both collapsed face first to the carpeted floor. Casually, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Harry indicated to the letter in his hand. "I was going to erase all memory of myself from your minds and run away, but after receiving this, I had to rethink my plan. If I ran away, I would have had to find food and shelter, which would have been very troublesome for a child in the middle of suburban England. This letter changes everything." He peered down at them, that same doll-like closed-lipped smile gracing his cherub face. He gestured to the letter again, "I assume from your hesitation in the kitchen that you know exactly who it's from and what it contains." He looked straight into Vernon's eyes, his head tilted expectantly. Vernon's chins jiggled from the force of his nods. "Since you know now, there is no longer a point in keeping you in the dark about my magic. I will be attending this coming September, and I would be most grateful," he turned to look at Petunia, "if you could help me purchase my required materials."

Petunia shuddered and nodded frantically. Internally, she was fuming and ashamed. How could she fall so easily to this little boy? She was in charge! He had to listen to her! She-

A blast of power silenced even her mental raging. It seemed he could even read her mind.

A long suffering mental-sigh later, Petunia pushed away her shattered pride and submitted, for now.

A/N: Harry gets his Hogwarts letter! And Petunia is delusional and Vernon is a moron, yay!