Welcome to the first chapter of the exciting crossover, "Looking through the Kaleidoscope" To give you a deeper insight...Harry gets ninja abilities. Don't think it's all gravy and he'll kick ass and take names no problem. There will be severe limits due to circumstances that I feel make sense for his predicament. The romance...will come with time so if your hoping for immediate, "wham, bam, I love you ma'am" you might want to think again. Also to note for this story:

-There is no cjaracter bashing of anyone here (in the story)
-No Manipulative Dumbledore
-No political inheritance or "Lord" status of any kind

ALSO, there will be a bit of mixing between the movie and the book. It will be minor but I urge you not to be suprised when it happens. But it will be mostly book oriented of course. Umm yeah, I guess that's it. Time for disclaimer I suppose

The Harry Potter series and franchise is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. The Naruto series and franchise is own by Masashi Kishimoto and Shounen Jump. I use this not for commercial gain and claim non

He lay in the magnolias, simply lounging. There was no particular reason. He had long since stopped trying to open the scroll he found and stared in the sky with no real thought in mind. He didn't know how long he had been laying in the flowers for; 20, 25, 50 minutes? It sure felt like 50 minutes. His hand was loosely grabbing onto the scroll, as if considering whether or not to just let it roll onto the sidewalk. He heard the TV in the background drifting from the window of Number Four Privet Drive flutter away, but he, a week ago, had given up on getting any news about the wizarding world from Muggle television. Nothing seemed to happen no matter how much Harry looked (subsequently, in a sense, hoping for something to happen. 'Wow that is a seriously dark thought. I really need a hobby...'). He finally decided to leave his thoughts as his name drifted to his ears, realizing that the Dursleys were busy goss - err - discussing their favorite whipping boy.

"-even though he's been a thorn in my side since the day he came in, he's finally decided to leave us in peace and accept who he is: a freak. I must honestly say I'm shocked how pleasantly well this is all going. I was expecting dark looks and silly glares and such. But happily offering to cook, clean and water the garden? Maybe things are finally looking up for us, even with a freaky nephew."

He heard Petunia making a humming noise in response and could only imaging the two of them: one fat and one fatally skinny, nodding as if they were royalty. But Harry smiled all the same. He realized that normally he would have been upset at the detestable title, but after Dumbledore's end of term speech he realized in order to create "trust" with the little bit of family left, he'd have to create unity. After all, he was a target and he realized they were potential casualties.

"We still should be careful Vernon," started Petunia. "Who knows what that freak is planning."

"Quite right Pet - those freaky magic folk are always up to no good. I'll make sure to keep my head square on my shoulders, in case he thinks I'll walk into a trap. Still, this is a golden opportunity; no need to raise my voice and have I can have a healthy serving of breakfast and dinner on my plate during the right time. Excellent and delicious too."

"What, my cooking isn't good enough for my husband?" He heard Petunia playfully pout; Harry was glad that this was all working out as well as it was.

"Oh come now Pet, your cooking is second to none."

And just like that he tuned them out, smiling as he looked back at the clouds, his happiness soon turning into anger as he immediately thought of Ron and Hermione. Why didn't they say anything in their letters? Why such vague empty promises, with no set dates about when they would be coming to fetch him?

Just as he was about go into a journey of loathing, a loud echoing crack broke the peace, a shriek was soon followed by a streaking cat, a bellowed oath and the sound of breaking china. As if electrocuted, he sprang up to barely announced car alarm, he quickly withdraw his wand from his pants - or at least he would have done, if he hadn't, at that same moment, smashed his head on the open window, causing Petunia to scream even louder and give Harry a splitting headache.

Momentarily dazed, he turned around woozily and shook his head. However, he had barely cleared the stars from his vision when his throat attacked by thick meaty fingers of a large hand, effectively putting him on panic attack with a clear mind.

"BOY!" Vernon hissed as quietly as he could, amazingly loud to harry, though nobody in the area seemed to hear a thing. "You-put-that-away-now!"

Harry dropped his wand, clawing and slapping at the sausage fingers wrapped around his throat for dear life. As he did so, he continuously tried to back up, pulling Vernon with him little by little, though Vernon was already at the ledge of the window. His head began to give a very nasty throb and suddenly Uncle Vernon let loose his grip with a small yelp, as if he received an electrical shock. Some invisible force seemed to have surged through his nephew, making him impossible to hold. Harry, in turn, stumbled backwards before landing squarely on his bottom massaging his neck as he took in gobs full of air at time; a face full of shock and confusion. He looked left and then right, noticing the multiple eyes peering from their windows.

"Nosy buzzards," he murmured as he shoved his wand in his sleeve; it's sight concealed from said nosy neighbors. He smiled as Vernon did the same with a little too much enthusiasm to be completely convincing but the man waved all the same yelling about how lovely the evening was. He still was shown smiling until the neighbors decided to venture back into their own business away from their windows.

"What the hell did you think you were doing boy!?" His voice so low it was practically a hiss.

"Uncle Vernon, it wasn't me! I was simply laying down and I heard the same thing as you, honest!" He was less bothered by the possibility of an intruder right now when Vernon's eyes stared down at him like that - He was, by far, the larger threat right now. And then Petunia's pale, sallow face popped up next to Vernon's color refilling one.

"And why was you snooping under our window, boy?" she spat equally low in tone. His head sank into his body as if a broken bobble head, looking sheepish.

'Jeez and here I thought we were finally past the whole boy term.'

"I was just laying down enjoying the day-"

"Lies! You were spying again weren't you? Listening to the telly again so you can get god knows what information on your world weren't you? Not satisfied with your little letters are you boy?" She hissed so harsh, he felt the spittle slap across his face. It was actually impressive it reached him at all given the space between each other.

"No, I honestly was just enjoying the day! I stopped trying to garner information weeks ago." Ok maybe it was just last week, but a little embellishment here and there seemed to not hurt anybody. "Besides...I haven't received any mail from anybody since I came home." Another lie, but since his mail never came through the front door, they wouldn't know.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, not at all interested in his personal problems. Once more, Vernon decided to interject himself back into this conversation.

"Well then, I think that's enough excitement for one day. You finished the garden?" Harry nodded quickly. "Good. Now quit lying about and make yourself useful elsewhere. Go find something else to do than be a buzzard all day. And don't be late coming back. Or there will be consequences."

And Harry knew exactly what that meant. Be back by or before Dudley was home. He wanted to roll his eyes, but instead contented himself with looking confused as a finger attempted to wag in his face. And just like that, the windows were slammed shut.

Finally alone, he let out a sigh he didn't even know he had held, thankful it ended just like that. He expected them to mock him about his lack of friends, or how pathetic he may have been for trying to get news of "his lot" from their telly. Hell, he was surprised he was told he was free to do as he pleased. That was a rarity. Usually it was either 'chores' or 'go to your room'. Maybe his plan was finally starting to work. Maybe doing this "voluntary chore" thing was finally paying off and they were being kinder to him without even realizing it.

"Heh, maybe there is something to Dumbledore's old babble about friendship and such," unknowingly depressing himself once again as the thought of last term came to mind. It seemed to be a serious condition he had, setting himself up for bubbling failure every time a happy thought came to mind.

Before he knew it, his feet had dragged him to the park and what better place for a sit down to ponder one's adolescent thoughts than every lonely kid with no friends or family's seat, the aforementioned swing, accompanied with four adjacent swings; two broken and one too low for a teenager to swing on and let his feet dangle properly. Good thing the only perfectly functional seat was available, all thanks to his cousin Dudley and his gang of goons. But that was neither here nor there.

He put his hands in his pocket and just remembered he left the scroll back in the garden. He was just about to panic until he actually felt his other pocket and noticed that familiar cylindrical shape on his side.

'That's weird, I don't even remember picking it up. Must have been too lost in my thoughts. It's turning to a really bad habit. I better be careful or else I'll lose my wand in the process.' And on cue he felt his pocket to feel his wand safely tucked away.

He pulled out the scroll and steadily got to work on it, to avoid any future breakdowns. Much like the previous attempts, it was with no success. That damned scroll just would not open. He tried all sorts of things. He first tried to rip it open after normal practice didn't suffice, then tried tearing against the edges until it would gradually unfurl further for an easy flip, but it wouldn't even crinkle. Eventually he got aggravated and started smacking it against the pole that held the swing up, throwing it against the ground, against the merry go round, constantly stomping on it and kicked it near a bird bath - which he immediately regretted as he was sure he looked positively mad at that point, a teenager chasing after a roll of parchment (he assumed was parchment anyway). But he got himself a mad hatter idea. Thus promptly attempting to "drown" it hoping it would get wet enough to have its glue loosen, denying the fact that it was laced with magic ("dear god...I'm turning into my uncle") and almost thinking he saw air bubbles floating to the surface. He had to do a double take on that and only realized it's from his sudden emergence into the water. He was tempted to dunk his face in the water to see if it was actually struggling to breathe or not.

'Perhaps I need a different hobby other than hallucinating that inanimate objects are alive.'

And back he went to his orphan's only swing, contemplating what to do. By this point, after everything he done to the poor scroll, making it cry and all- he shook his head at that thought determined not to go insane. From tearing to dunking the scroll, the only thing that happened to it was that the dirt from being rubbed in the ground had washed off after dunking it in the water. And with that the only other explanation was to clear his mind and assume its content was protected by magic.

'The problem with that is that, normally, if it isn't life threatening or a dangerous secret, even books with magical content would just 'Open Sesame', but this isn't. Perhaps a wizard with logic actually thought to put a seal on his magic to keep out non magical folk? But then, why was this the first piece of magical item sealed this way by magic and why so uncreative? Seems very much not like the typical wizard'

He NEVER heard of a book not opening because someone was non-magical. And that raised another problem, he wasn't non-magical, he could use a wand and everything. Which led him to conclude this was of high magical content with very coveted and or dangerous information. That or the use of a wand would be of some significance to opening the scroll. And if that was the case, he was stumped until school started up again, knowing full well the rules.

'It's a damn roll of parchment after all.' Yet even as he thought that, he felt a powerful desire to find out what was so important in this scroll that it needed magic. He felt a powerful urge to figure out its contents contained as if he was meant to know. 'Or as the fake moody said "We're quite the detectives".'

He felt strange thinking about that. It immediately reminded him of the horror of last semester, but it was such an accurate statement once he thought about it, he felt conflicted. After relaxing on the park for a bit of time, he noticed that all the street lights were on to stave away the darkness of the night. He saw that Dudley's gang of thugs had passed right by him, probably on their way home after a day complete with bullying and ransacking. Even so, Harry couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Here he was fiddling with a roll of parchment while Dudley was busy being busy losing weight and using his time to collect rewards, no matter how unjust. AND with friends to boot. He sighed but didn't bother to contemplate on it any further. Eventually he'll be back in Hogwarts and feeling like an insider, not an outsider. Even so, he was sorely tempted to just jump out at them and start a riot just to rid himself of the building frustration of his situation.

'After all, they attacked me, I was just using my magic in self defense.' But such an excuse would be considered irrelevant as there are non-magical options. He waited till the gang was out of sight down the road before he got up himself.

'There we are Sirius,' Harry thought dully. 'Kept my nose clean. Nothing unsanitary up my nose tonight. Nothing like you would have done.'

And with that he went on ahead down Magnolia Crescent, back from whence he came. He had a sneaking suspicion that just because he was weaning kindness out of their unloving hearts (where Harry 'freak' Potter was concerned, which gave off quite an amusing thought), he still didn't want to dare Vernon with the threat of locking Harry in the shed. It was only a month since he's been home offering unflappable kindness. No need to push his luck. And it would wear thin if he screwed up even once since summer was so damn short. A double-edged sword in his opinion.

'Aren't most kids generally supposed to be glad to be away from work and just frolic merrily?'

"...squealed like a pig, didn't he?" He overheard someone familiar speaking. It seemed to have been Malcolm, one of Dudley's many friends.

"Nice right hook, Big D," said Piers.

"Same time tomorrow?" said Dudley.

"Round at my place, my parents are out," said Gordon.

"See you then," said Dudley.

"Bye Dud!"

"See ya, Big D!"

He caught up with Dudley once all his friends were long gone. And thus it was time to be the kind younger cousin that was Harry Potter. Just as pleasant to Dudley as he is to his aunt and uncle.

"Hey, Big D!" he spoke jovially.

Said "D" turned and grimaced at the site.

"Oh," he grunted. "It's you."

"Aww come on now, we're family. It's more than just me; it's your little bro Harry!" A little extra cheek never hurt after all, he wanted to show his love to his favorite big cousin. "How long have you been 'Big D!' Big D?"

You can feel the annoyance rolling off Dudley as he glared at a goofily smiling Harry.

"Shut it," he snarled. Harry did none of that, though, knowing how well he and Dudley were bonding already. A more 'annoying younger brother annoying his big brother', but bonding all the same.

"Cool name." Harry fell right into step alongside Dudley trying best not to miss a beat. "But you'll always be Ickle Diddykins to me."

"I said, SHUT IT!" said Dudley, whose ham-like hands had curled into fists.

"Don't the boys know that's what mum calls you?"

"Shut your face."

"You don't tell her to shut her face. What about 'popkin' and 'Dinky Diddydums,' can I use them then?" He couldn't help himself but chuckle at his own jokes, while Dudley said nothing; demanding all his self-control from knocking all of Harry's teeth out.

Sure it was never wise to poke a sleeping bear (or tickle a sleeping dragon in Hogwarts terms), but it required a different method of kindness when it involved Dudley. As they were both teenagers, or as Harry like to think, 'Dudley was a thoughtless bulldozer', Dud didn't exactly care about how nice you were if he didn't like you. So what better way to be companions than sibling rivalry. After all, he's only here 2 and a half months of the year, so make the best of palling around Dud the way they grew up doing: bugging the crap out of each other.

"So what's the happs today Big D? Beat up another 10-year old? I know 2 nights ago was Mark Evans-"

"He was asking for it," snarled Dudley.

"How so?"

"He cheeked me, that's how."

"What you call cheek is by calling you a pig on hind legs, others call truth." He laughed out loud now, this was too much fun. He wished the boy would throw some insults back, but if he was too scared to do so, then it would be a boring but still humorous night. They turned down a narrow alleyway which was a shortcut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk; darker and emptier than the streets it linked due to lack of streetlamps.

"Think you're a big man carrying that thing, don't you?"

"Not as big as you Winnie the Pooh," retorted Harry outstretching his arms as if pretending to carry a huge load with him, complete with funny faces that would make anybody laugh. And the rage on his opponent's face was making Dudley as red as a tomato.

"Not this brave at night are you?"

Another setup accompanied by mocking noises of a crackling radio coming to life

"Earth to Dudley, earth to Dudley, please come in. This just in, we have discovered at this present time, it is night. The usual tell-tale signs are the lack of light from the sun, the darkening of the sky and the occasional twinkle of the star though street lamps may also suffice." HE roared laughing and was sure he saw steaming spewing out of Dudley's ears.

"I MEAN WHEN YOU'RE IN BED, ASSHOLE!"

That stopped Harry's jovial laughter at once and his footsteps ceased. From the little of light available, he could see Dudley's triumphant face. Schooling his composure to be completely nonplussed, he finally spoken again. "What-am I supposed to be frightened of? My pillow? (Though others would think it justified being it's been given to me by my family)."

"I heard you last night," said Dudley breathlessly. "Talking in your sleep. Moaning."

"You'd moan too if you slept next to a bulldozer every night." The usual bark Harry's word kept didn't exactly carry it's bite this time around and he sounded fairly distant.

"'Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!' who's Cedric - your boyfriend!"

And all the happiness dispersed immediately; as if it was sucked straight into Dudley as he now had a gleeful look upon his face, for some reason as clear as day. That was a low blow he wasn't expecting. "Shut up," said Harry quietly. "Shut up, Dudley, I'm warning you!"

"'Come and help me, Dad! Mum, come and help me! He killed Cedric! Dad, help me! Boo-hoo!'" mocked Dudley, followed by peals of laughter. All the color drained from Harry's face and he felt a little too hot for the cool summer breeze to handle. His eyebrows knitted in anger, and for a moment, he allowed Dudley to continue to gawf until a malicious smirk crept on Harry's face.

"Hey little piggy, how's that tail treating ya? Did you get the doctor's to cut off the freak's little tail immediately or were you forced to keep your tail between your legs all school year in humiliation? Or do the kids at the locker room point and laugh behind your back?"

Harry took off down the long narrow alleyway, running from Dudley's rage. He reached the edge the alleyway and decided to stop and, just as Dudley was about to jump on him, Harry quickly pulled out his wand and held it diagonally across his chest. Dudley's movements suddenly slowed down upon seeing a light emanating from his scrawny cousin's chest and evenly walked towards Harry, the latter never moving In reality, it was just a finger light he procured for such dark nights, but he kept that to himself. Still smirking, Harry was hoisted up by Dudley and smacked against the stone wall of the alleyway, ignoring the pain of his back against the stone wall and shocked Dudley even touched him with the threat of a wand abound.

"You-you're not allowed to do magic outside of school."

"Perhaps, but…" he left his words hanging as Dudley followed Harry's eye to the shining light on his chest and it was suddenly pointed at Dudley.

"Don't point that thing at me," his voice a mere whisper.

"Let me down," he replied evenly almost a little cold.

"I said don't point that thing at me," a little louder this time.

"Then let me down," Harry retorted at the same level as Dudley.

"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!"

Harry was just about to yell back until a strong wind blew through the dark alleyway, actually causing them both to shiver and Dudley gasped in response, effectively dropping Harry. Harry stumbled, forcing himself to drop sideways to avoid even grazing against Dudley, a little shaky. And it went from cool to bitingly cold in a single moment. His eyes wide, he looked at his wand, thinking he did accidental magic and tried to calm down. He didn't feel strange other than being cold figured this wasn't him. He grew nervous and concerned at this point.

"Wh-what are you doing? Cut it out!" Dudley's shriek was duly noted as Harry frantically looked around trying to find the source and pray his hunch was completely off; wand out and all.

"It's not me Dudley, I swear!"

"Then what is it? Oh no, I can't see, I've gone blind! I'm scared"

'Damn, the one time I get to hear Dudley say that, and it's during a justifiable terrible crisis.'

"I'll tell Dad!" Dudley whimpered. "W-where are you? What are you d-do -?"

"Calm down Dudley. I don't know what's going on myself, but be quiet."

He tried to feel something transparent, something ghostlike. 'That makes perfect sense Harry, way to go.' But he could feel, see, nor hear nothing.

"C-cut it out! Cut it out or I'll swear I'll hit you!"

"Dudley SHUT-"

And just like that a soft whoosh was barely audible before Harry felt the impact of intense boxing training right in the side of his head. He saw stars, but thank said stars he was even alive from such a powerful swing! And for the second time in his life did he learn why poking a sleeping bear was NEVER a good idea as he felt his head split in two, hitting the ground.

"YOU MORON! What the bloody hell?" He felt around frantically searching in the darkness for his wand and then he heard pounding footsteps going not towards him at all. Either way was bad.

"DUDLEY STOP, YOUR RUNNING RIGHT INTO IT! NO!" only a second more of pounding footsteps before he heard a skid, but no pounding thump of a skull against concrete, thank goodness. "DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH CLOSE! WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T OPEN YOUR MOUTH!"

Ok he didn't think he gave the best advice at the moment, but it was the best he could think of sporadically. He kept frantic against the earth searching for his wand, completely forgetting about his finger light. And in desperation, he just spoke out a spell even while not clutching his wand. "Lumos!"

Light shone through the darkness as Harry's wand lit itself up and he was only centimeters from it. He quickly snatched it up and pointed it around frantically until he landed upon what he feared. A Dementor, and one that was currently dining on his cousin. He no longer thought, he acted. Wand at the ready, just as the words were about to roll off the tongue, another Dementor appeared directly in front of his face already starting to suck out his soul. He was hoisted up by the neck against the wall as the Dementor went to work. He, with great, effort turned his head to the side as if that would at the very least slow down the sucking, suddenly realizing Dudley did the same. But he kept feeling hopeless as the horror continued but explaining Dudley's death gave him a little strength to whisper the charm. A bubble of bright white light emanated from his wand and it was just enough power for the Dementor to let go. Harry fell with a thud and frantically grabbed his wand before he could forget its place in the dark. He ran towards Dudley and with the thought of eating with Ron on the train during their first meet, he let loose very closely against the Dementor. A bowl of light sprang forth from his wand this time actually pushing the creature away.

Scrambling over to Dudley, he knelt beside him, fearing the worst, as he put his ear against Dudley's chest forgetting that Dementors don't kill. It was faint, but rapid heartbeat in place and he let out a sigh of content. He felt the coldness increasing again and knew to turn around as the previous one was back. He pointed his wand at the beast from his side as he struggled to stay conscious. It was becoming hard to think, as the ill-intent from earlier kept clouding his thoughts. He frantically searched through his mind for the best memory. He thought of his first time flying, and his next Patronum was even more feeble than his first.

He felt it; he smelt it. He was dying. He was actually dying this time. The thought of his friends all out…the thought of getting his first Weasley jumper…his own determination to see Hermione punch Malfoy again…

"EXPECTO! PATRONUM!"

And a huge bowl of light nearly the size of the surface area of the tunnel exploded through said tunnel forcing the Dementor to barrel out of it and fly up, around and hopefully away from the tunnel He turned to the oncoming second one with the still activated light and it performed a parallel action. He sighed heavily as his spell dissipated to nothing and collapsed lightly on his cousin for a moment, just content with listening to his heartbeat. The tunnel lights flared back to life as he could see the exit. He started to heave his cousin up mentally preparing himself to heave him all the way home when the lights went out again. He didn't even register the incoming cold as his insides were cold from the dread. He called upon Lumos and to his horror, 5 Dementors squeezed themselves in the tunnel from the exit. As they came upon him they slowed, careful not to disrupt one another's glide, he turned his head to see if anymore were coming and thankfully this seemed to be all of them. He realized how tired he was and to know he had to fight, a dark thought told him to give up- "Bow to death, Harry. . . It might even be painless . . . I would not know . . . I have never died. . ."

He ignored the voice, even if it seemed tempting , and raised his wand.

"expecto patronum."

A small wisp formed and escaped, with it, seemed his hope. A lone Dementor decided to break from the pack and speed up, seemingly no longer in the mood to wait for dinner. Harry's eyes widened as he finally felt he could do no more except back up. He noticed another Dementor decided to break from the lingering pack and focused his sights on Dudley. He realized he was never going to see Ron or Hermione again, never taste Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking, never see Hedwig again. He never even got to be a proper family with Sirius. His eyes widen tears streaming down his face that he didn't feel due to the cold as the last thought lingered through his mind. The incoming Dementor, claws at its side bared as if about to strike seemed to actually slow down.

Suddenly, he could see everything in a much better clarity than before. He could make out the slow flapping of the demon's cloak against the wind, the slow rising of its head, readying itself to start the feast. As matter of fact, even the other Dementors were moving even slower than he was and he could actually see the soft rattling of their rags towards the demons' faces. He didn't know why everything seemed so slow but he was going to use that as an advantage. He was actually able to time his usage of the Patronus charm perfectly when the Dementor came close enough. His wand raised, he thought about the moment Sirius and he finally connected in the aftermath of Pettigrew and-

"EXPECTO! PATRONUM!" It lit up the entire tunnel. Everything still moving slower than average, he could see the shield of light actually trying to morph into a stag.

'I did it, I made the stag again! Dad…'

But the shape kept wavering and didn't fully become the stag it was meant to be And then he noticed all Dementor trying to push against deforming stag. His eyes widened at the shocking persistence of these monsters, the fact that his stag was not diminishing but simply distorting and even his field of vision became blurry; everything in sight seeming to twist and turn in one direction before he could see nothing but white followed by darkness.

". . .wake up. Harry dear, wake up."

His eyes flurried open as he felt a continual pat against his face. He closed his eyes again swatting whatever was hitting his face. After a moment he opening his eyes jumping right up, confusion and horror riddled on his face. His hand grazed the ground and realized that he was still at the tunnel.

"So it wasn't a dream," he whispered unsure what to think. He looked to his left and then to his right before his eyes were wide as saucers.

"MRS. FIGG!?"

"Don't yell boy, I'm right here. What happened?"

"Err umm," he wasn't sure how to respond. He couldn't very well tell her the truth, and he usually wasn't found passed out in the middle of the road. "umm, there was a stink bomb and-"

"Come on, forget your excuses. Up, up you get. Come on hurry up and help me with him before those nasty Dementors come back with even more."

He felt that familiar cold in his chest against but it wasn't from an incoming Dementor. "How do you-"

"Never mind that now boy, I'll explain on the way. Now help me out here would you dear?"

He nodded dumbly and using what little strength he had, realizing maybe he should do some exercise from the strength it took to lift up Dudley, heaved ho and both scrawny folk dragged Big D out and away from Little Whinging's first haunt. He tried to put his wand away to not attract any more questions that may come up from those nosy neighbors, but Mrs. Figg barred him against it. She started on her own little rant. He was in and out of focus, but he caught little tidbits. Things like 'kill', 'watch', 'Mundungus', 'Dumbledore' and such.

"Dumbledore? You know Dumbledore?"

"Of course I know Dumbledore dear. Who doesn't? But that's neither here nor there."

She went back to her rambling on about underage sorcery, killing Mundungus, impressions and other such nonsense. He was busy trying to get a barely conscious Dudley to walk on his two feet. Not even poking him in the ribs with his elbow seemed to do the trick except keep him barely aware. He sighed, wishing otherwise, but he was personally glad that was the penalty for living. But now he had a more serious issue: he used underage magic and that scared him. Last time, he got off lucky due to a friendly minister. He was older now and this was a third offense.

'Well technically second offense, since I wasn't the one who levitated cake NOR do I remember getting in trouble for that. Still, maybe if I just explain the situation. Maybe…they'll look into the Dementor attack.'

Though even as he thought this, he felt a grim prospect out of the ordeal. Last semester didn't exactly end on a good note with the minister. Harry only prayed the man didn't hold a grudge. Even if he thought Harry was loony.

"So you're a witch too?" Harry asked in between pants of walking. If that were true, then a he'd had a whole floodgate of questions. Unfortunately they were all squashed before he think of two. And the look she gave him didn't help matters either

"No boy, I'm a squib. And before you ask, it was Dumbledore's orders that I not tell you. I was to keep an eye on you but not say anything, you were too young. I'm sorry I gave you such a miserable time, but the Dursleys would have never let you come if they'd thought you enjoyed it. It wasn't easy, you know. . . . but oh my word," she said tragically wring her hands once more. She went back to her rant about Dumbledore and killing Mundungus. He offered her his owl but said the matter was too urgent for the speed of an owl. At a point mid-rant, she shrieked the name of the man she planning to commit homicide against.

He was a short, baggy eyed little man that reeked of stale tobacco and mingled booze, his facial expression akin to a basset hound.

"MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

Harry effectively blocked out their entire conversation, really too tired to care about her making a ruckus whacking away at Mundungus. After getting back on track and trekking on towards Dudley's front door, Ms Figg gave him a stern warning not to leave the house and someone would be in touch. He tried to yell out for more information but she was already trotting away. At this point he really, really hoped, his aunt and uncle thought the best of Dudley and that they were in the kitchen or somewhere that was nowhere near the stairs or Dudley's room. Unfortunately that was for naught for as soon as Harry stepped foot in the door, Petunia called out. Along with that came a cry for concern as she saw her baby boy looking pale and dirty. Uncle Vernon came clamoring from the living room into the hallway.

They were trying to figure out what exactly was the cause for his distress and what had caused him to come home vomiting on the carpet. Harry, meanwhile did his best to steadily inch further and further away from the entire situation, as they momentarily forgotten he existed. Unfortunately he had no such luck as he looked behind him to see Dudley point and say his name just as he was trying to tread up the stairs. Vernon was so livid, he was turning purple.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Dread filled his entire being as he slowly walked back into the hallway, his name filling the entire house. He absolutely never heard Vernon use his entire name, or scream that loud for a matter of fact. It reached a whole new level of terror; to the point that he had to force himself to stop shaking. Even Dudley was wide eyed now despite having throwing up everywhere. Dudley was swiftly sat down onto a chair in the kitchen where they all vacated to while Vernon approached Harry slowly enough to be eerie.

"What...did you do...to my son?" Vernon said in such a quiet tone that Harry was absolutely petrified. It was times like this where he truly appreciated the yelling and screaming as it meant too confounded to do anything other than point and make him go away. But this Vernon, this quiet, still eerily calm Vernon, was truly petrifying. He shook for a moment, before making an audible gulp.

"N-nothing, I swear." He sounded extremely meek, not at all like his usual bubbling angry and condescending attitude. All that work, all that effort he put into being appreciated, was evaporating before his very eyes.

"LIES!" But Vernon was still not his usual purple in the face self. He turned away so promptly that he felt the wind from it. "Son, what happened," he started on his son, with a soft reassuring voice. "What did he do? Did he-did he use that on you?"

Dudley with eyes wide, was nervous too, but wasn't sure how to explain it so he simply nodded, unsure of his consequences. With a roar and speed unlike any Harry had ever seen, Harry was grabbed by the hair by dragged back through the hallway into the living room and thrown with such ferocity that Harry was lifted off the ground and toppled over the couch, unable to even reach for his wand, though he was far too shocked to even think about it anyway. Still filled with shock, his body seemed on autopilot as he clutched his arm, a long gash on his face from an interfering table edge as he slowly pulled himself up, his body shaking. His arm felt as if it was dislodge from such an intense throw and his head was bleeding , probably from the empty vase that fell on his head; broken from being dropped off a shelf due to the tremor Harry made. If he could see Dudley and petunia's face he'd know they were gob smacked at such ferocity, to the point that Dudley threw up again, this time successfully making it to the sink before running off to the bathroom to properly throw up.

"H-honey?" But Vernon paid his wife no mind as he heard a familiar screech and roared again in anger. Just in time, he ran to the window and slammed it shut, shaking the surrounding items. The poor creature crashed smack dab into the window.

"OWL AGAIN! I WON'T HAVE IT YOU HEAR ME BOY!? I AM SICK OF THESE BLASTED DAMN OWLS!" Suddenly a blank look came over his face, Harry still too shocked to move and only watched, fear evident through his veins. He really wished he could face a Dementor again. With them he knew what to do. With a solemn Vernon, he was lost. And Vernon went around the house, closing every window, shutting every blind and curtain and locking the door, seemingly forgetting that Harry had a wand at his disposal. He rummaged in a corner in his room and suddenly the music blared to life to the point most parents would find annoying. Petunia was confused and Harry wasn't sure if it was a good idea to change his view on the situation.

"Boy, I've had it with you. You come into our home, ruin our day to day, give us such grief and impart your freaky ways into our lives and nearly cost me my job along with nearly losing my sister." His voice was low and menacing and the most Harry did was slowly back up. He wasn't sure what was going on but he was worried. Dudley's favorite American band was playing in the background.

"AND I'VE HAD IT! I'VE HAD IT UP TO HEAR WITH YOU AND YOUR FUCKING FREAKY WAYS. WE WANT NO MORE TO DEAL WITH YOU, YOU HEAR ME!? NO MORE!"

There was an awful ear piercing scream, a bang and blood. The loud rock music probably muffled out all of it though.

AND that's it. More to come. I'll let people know when a regular update schedule will commence. Hope you enjoy and stay tuned for the next chapter. Any questions, comments or concerns, don't hesitate to PM or leave me a review. Please review and have a good day. Ja Ne