Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The afternoon in Diagon Alley passed in a blur. Harry spotted several familiar faces and nearly blew his own cover countless times by speaking to people that this version of himself had not met yet. It was the opposite of the time before when he had entered the wizarding world for the first time and everybody knew his history better than he did. They might know his past, but he’d seen many of their futures.
Harry remembered thinking Hagrid was great. He supposed he still did. After all, the half-giant had introduced him to the wizarding world, and he’d done it with kindness. However, he now knew that his large friend didn’t always make the best decisions. Hagrid had been expelled from Hogwarts and had made several other critically bad choices. As a child who didn’t trust many of the adults in his life, Harry had often gone to Hagrid for advice. He had learned quickly to take the man’s opinions with a grain of salt. Hagrid was a good man, but he was no scholar, and his common sense was often lacking.
Before returning to the Dursley’s, Harry insisted on stopping at the pet shop. He had expected to be reunited with Hedwig. Unfortunately, his beloved owl was nowhere to be found. Harry struggled to hide his disappointment. He did, however, encounter a different old friend. Harry had been looking half-heartedly for a suitable owl to replace Hedwig, when a cat began pressing itself against his ankles and weaving its slinky body between his legs. He’d nearly tripped over it before the shock of recognition hit him.
“Crookshanks?” Harry gasped, staring down into the cat’s impossibly intelligent eyes.
Crookshanks had been Hermione’s cat in the previous timeline. This Crookshanks had the same orange fur and feline expression of disdain he’d had when Hermione had adopted him before their third year. Unlike before, the cat seemed very interested in Harry.
“Meow,” the cat leapt onto a nearby shelf so it could meet Harry’s gaze.
“Good to see you, old friend,” Harry said warmly, holding up a hand for the cat the sniff. The old Crookshanks had never been big on affection, though he had occasionally let Hermione carry him around like a baby. The cat pressed its large furry head into Harry’s palm and purred.
Harry recalled third year, when this orange fur ball had done its best to save them all from years of torment. The cat had spotted right away that there was something off about Ron’s pet rat, who had in fact turned out to be the animagus form of the man who had betrayed Harry’s parents, murdered several people, and helped Voldemort get his body back.
Harry and his friends had eventually learned the rat’s true identity. Before that, Crookshanks’ and Scabber’s behavior had been attributed to normal cat/rodent business. At the time, Ron had treated the cat as if it were the bad guy because he thought the cat had killed his pet, and Harry had resented it for causing his friends to fight. How different might their lives have been if the cat had actually eaten the bastard?
“Listen man, would you like to come with me now, or wait for Hermione. I don’t like the idea of leaving you here.”
The cat blinked its disturbingly human-like eyes and leapt into Harry’s arms. Harry stroked its fur as he went to find a shop attendant so he could complete his purchase.
“The Dursley’s are going to hate you,” Harry muttered later as they left the shop. Crookshanks purred in his carrier.
-X-
After their trip to Diagon Alley, Hagrid took Harry back to the little shack in the middle of the sea to rejoin the Dursleys. Harry and Hagrid had taken the boat, so the Dursley’s had been stranded there all day. The waves had calmed, and the ride back was rather tranquil.
Vernon became belligerent upon Harry’s reentry, but Hagrid gestured threateningly with his umbrella and the man thought better of it. Instead, he glared ineffectually and stayed out of the way until Hagrid had left.
“Right, so I guess I’m a wizard,” Harry declared to the three people who were watching him as though he might start breathing fire at any moment. “Can we go home now?”
Petunia and Dudley looked hopefully at Vernon, who grumbled, but started preparing the boat.
Harry did not need legilimency to know that his uncle was considering whether to leave him here or try and dispose of his body in international waters.
“Don’t even think about it, Dursley,” Harry warned, “They’ll be expecting me at Hogwarts on September first. If I don’t make an appearance, somebody will come looking for me.”
Petunia’s horrified expression at the thought of more wizards turning up on her doorstep was almost comical.
-X-
The prospect of spending a month with the Dursley’s was not nearly as intimidating this time around. At eleven, Harry had been unloved, malnourished, and an easy target for bullies. Now, however; he had been murdered twice, defeated a dark lord, and faced hundreds of men far more terrifying the Vernon Dursley.
Harry remembered the intensity of Vernon’s reaction when the Hogwarts owls started to arrive; collecting the letters, boarding up all of the entry points to the house, even taking his family and leaving the country. They had been hiding out in a rickety shack in the middle of a literal ocean as a storm raged outside, when the clock struck midnight on the day of Harry’s eleventh birthday, and a half-giant had broken down the door.
In hindsight, Harry wondered why the Dursley’s had been so averse to his going to Hogwarts in the first place. They didn’t like magic, and had always claimed his abnormality reflected poorly on them. Attending Hogwarts had gotten him out of their lives for the largest part of the year, and when asked, the Dursley’s had been able to pretend they were long-suffering victims and that Harry was off at some school for the criminally insane learning the error of his ways.
Harry could work with ‘criminally insane’ if he had to.
Except nobody in the Dursley’s circle ever mentioned him unless he was home for a school holiday. There were spells that could be placed on magical locations that would prevent muggles from desiring to enter or even thinking about them too much. Harry wondered now if somebody might have placed a muggle-repelling charm on him as well. The Dursley’s had loathed him until the day they died. Hermione’s parents had not been fans either.
Harry supposed part of the Dursley’s problem might have been the tail. When Hagrid, the half-giant and groundskeeper at Hogwarts, had presented Harry with his first-ever birthday cake, Harry’s cousin Dudley had tried to steal it. Hagrid had given Dudley a pig’s tail for his trouble and last time the Dursley’s had had to have it surgically removed.
He knew there were larger issues. For example, Petunia had always been jealous that her sister had gotten to go to magic school without her. His aunt wasn’t completely unsympathetic that her sister had been murdered. However, she’d dealt with her grief by blocking out any good memories they’d shared and convincing herself magic was a bigger problem than the homicidal maniac who had killed her sister and brother-in-law and attempted to murder a baby. Harry would need longer than a month to sort out all the lies Petunia believed, but he could do something about Dudley’s tail.
A month in Little Winging, Harry reflected as he sat on his bed petting Crookshanks, would be a piece of cake.
-X-
Harry spent most of the next week in his bedroom at Number Four Privet Drive, considering ways he could create a whole new life for himself. Draco had sent a letter via his personal owl the day after the two separated at Madame Malkin’s. He had told his parents he’d met a boy claiming to be ‘THE Harry Potter’, and they were encouraging him to pursue the friendship. He had neglected to tell his parents that 'The Harry Potter' had been raised by muggles. The Malfoy’s enthusiasm meant Draco’s father would likely be monitoring his mail, so they would have to wait and discuss their shared mission at school.
The two still exchanged letters every day, sometimes more than once, reporting their mundane daily activities, as normal eleven-year-olds might. Draco’s owl, Owlfred, would deliver his letters to Harry and then perch on a branch outside Harry’s window while Harry wrote back. Harry told Draco he’d gotten a cat. Draco told Harry about whatever book he happened to be reading. They discussed the various houses at Hogwarts, and whether they might try out for their house quidditch teams. It helped to pass the time, and made each of them feel a little less alone.
Crookshanks spent much of August stretched out beside Harry. Hedwig had been a lot of things, but she had never been a cuddler. Harry hated to admit it, but he had quickly become a cat person. More precisely, he became a cat’s person. When he had been left with Ms. Fig as a child, he had hated her cats. He had never known that he had been missing out on fluffy pet snuggles, now there were not enough Galleons in the world to convince him to give it up.
Crookshanks also spent his time getting his hair all over the sofa and bringing gifts for Aunt Petunia to try and win her over. As far as she knew, they did not even have a cat, so it was always a shock when the orange beast appeared. Harry could still hear her shouting about the half-eaten mouse that the animal had left on her pillow. Yesterday she had sat down after dinner to rub Vernon’s feet and Crookshanks had presented her with a dead lizard. Petunia had screamed and Vernon had shouted til he was red in the face trying to grab the creature as it made its getaway. Harry was loving it.
Dudley found the cat’s antics amusing as well. One time Harry had come home from a stroll around the neighborhood to find his cousin taunting the cat with a piece of string. Harry had stared for a long time.
“I like cats,” Dudley had grunted, staying where he was. Crookshanks batted at the string as Dudley continued to jiggle it over the cat’s head. Harry had nodded his head and gone upstairs. He had a bottle of scotch from Uncle Vernon’s liquor cabinet to attend to.
-X-
The next day Harry waited until his uncle had gone to work and his aunt was visiting a friend, then he went down to the kitchen and got out the crockpot. He poured himself some scotch and set out his potions kit. It did not take magic to brew most potions. It was basically just cooking, so he wasn’t breaking any rules as he chopped his eye of newt and tongue of frog. The potion also called for some wild onion and a whole bunch of lemons. He was squeezing the lemons into a bowl when Dudley found him.
“What are you doing with Mum’s crockpot?” Harry’s cousin asked, staring. Harry thought he might have detected a spot of drool hanging precariously from Dudley’s open mouth. Harry’s first instinct was to lie, because while Dudley might be dumb, he would tell on him. Except, Harry had always treated Dudley like he was dumb, and the two had never developed a real relationship. So, this time he chose to try something different.
“I’m making a potion to get rid of your tail,” Harry replied. Dudley opened his mouth and blinked a few times. “Could you grab the turmeric from the spice rack?”
Harry poured the lemon juice into the pot and stirred five times counter-clockwise. Dudley rifled through the spices. The potion turned red.
Dudley handed him the turmeric.
“Thanks,” Harry said, carefully measuring the ingredient.
“So, er, do I have to drink that?” Dudley asked, watching as the potion continued to simmer. It was a disturbing orange color now. Harry threw in a banana peel and put the lid on.
“Nah,” Harry replied. “The acid from this many lemons would probably dissolve your insides. It will simmer down into a paste before its finished. You’ll just need to rub a bit of it on your bum three times a day.”
“Oh,” Dudley seemed at a loss for words as Crookshanks rubbed against his ankle. “Well, thanks. Mum’s been talking about surgery.”
Harry chuckled as he sipped his drink, watching as his cousin lumbered out of the room. He wondered if Professor Snape would appreciate a crockpot for Christmas.
-X-
As the last week of August arrived, Harry noted several things he could do to make his living-with-the-Dursley’s situation easier. Summers were boring as shit when he only had his cat to talk to. The constant verbal abuse and avoidance had gotten old fast. This time he had only been here for a month, but there would be other summers after. So, this time, he was determined to put more effort into making his situation with the Dursley’s more livable. He had given up the last time, because he’d believed them incapable of change. However, he’d also lived to see all of his friends and even some of his enemies change their minds and live accordingly. So that theory was out. Thanks to time travel, he was now about the same age mentally as his guardians were physically. This meant that if Harry ever wanted to see the relationship change, he was going to have to behave like the adult he was. There was no denying that making peace with his relatives would make his life easier, so he made a list and got started. Thus, ‘Operation: Make-the-Dursley’s-Like-Me’ was born.
The potion went a long way towards creating an ally out of his cousin, so Harry thought it might be possible to find ways to make each of his relatives’ hate magic a little less. He wasn’t expecting miracles.
His Aunt was tricky because there were not many things she cared about, outside of keeping up appearances. She always emphasized her ‘normal-ness’, and tried to impress people by keeping the house and yard pristine. Harry had been waking up early and cleaning things without being asked so he could have more time to himself later in the day. He’d spent Sunday prepping a week of meals so that all he would have to do was heat something up. He’d vacuumed every room, washed every window, and scrubbed every baseboard in the house. He would do the same tomorrow, and the next day. Everything was spotless, and by doing it without being told, he’d removed a lot of the stress that had always accompanied his chores. Mistakes had always carried the threat of a beating or being forced to starve for several days. The physical punishments had always been carried out by Vernon, but Petunia had never thought twice about ratting Harry out.
She did love her garden, however, so Harry ordered some Magical Manure (Nicknamed 'Special Shit', and rumored to have been produced by unicorns) and made it the best garden on the street. The Dursley’s would find a pumpkin Harry had planted as a joke that was large enough to live inside. It would go on to win many neighborhood gardening awards. Petunia’s flowers would still be blooming and drawing compliments long after the season’s first frost.
Uncle Vernon was the most difficult. Vernon had been, generally, angry and unpleasant in every interaction Harry had ever had with the man. He could think of few things, barring his own tragic demise, that might put a smile on his uncle’s face. First Harry thought about replacing the scotch, then remembered he was eleven, and no reputable liquor store would sell him any. However, if Harry could buy his own scotch, he wouldn’t have to steal his uncle’s. Though he wouldn’t rule that option out for the future because there was always Polyjuice, he didn’t have a month to brew a batch. He needed to come up with something he could do before the summer holidays ended.
One night, when both Harry and his uncle had partaken of Vernon’s scotch, the two were sitting in the den watching an old movie. (Step two in ‘Operation: Make-the-Dursley’s-Like-Me’ was to spend more time in their presence. So far, they seemed confused, but they were allowing it). Petunia was reading a magazine and Dudley was upstairs playing a video game.
The movie had gone to commercial and there was an advertisement for one of those ‘male pattern baldness’ products.
“I’ve always wanted a beard.” Vernon had sighed, watching as the man on the television smeared the product on his head and little hairs started to grow in no time. Sort of like a chia pet. Harry thought he saw Petunia roll her eyes. Harry now had his answer and it was a relatively simple solution. When his uncle was at work the next day, and his aunt had gone to the store, Harry borrowed the crockpot again and brewed up a batch of Bo Birdly’s Brilliant Beard Balm. Vernon’s resulting facial hair was glorious.
-X-
On the last day of the summer break, Aunt Petunia had taken Dudley and Harry to the store to purchase Dudley’s school supplies. Harry, who had already gotten his school books and potion ingredients, had selected a notebook for each of his classes and a large pack of pens. The parchment and quill life wasn’t for him.
“Birthday money from the last ten years,” Harry explained to the shocked Dursleys as the clerk rang up his items and he paid with a handful of banknotes. The money the Dursley’s had given Harry over the years wouldn’t have paid for a pack of gum. He’d had the money converted from his Gringott’s vault.
They returned to number four Privet Drive and had a big party to celebrate Dudley’s going off to school. Naturally, nobody paid any attention to Harry. However, nobody remembered to lock him in his bedroom and deprive him of cake either, so he was counting it as a win. This gave him the perfect opportunity to steal a few bottles of whiskey from Vernon’s cabinet so he could take it back to Hogwarts with him. He took an extra bottle of rum as well.
-X-
The next morning, Uncle Vernon and Dudley drove Harry to the King’s Cross train station in London.
Harry was feeling pretty good about 'Operation: Make the Dursley’s Like Me'. He really felt like he was making some progress. Especially with Dudley. While there had been no hugging or crying when he had been preparing to leave the house, Vernon had lifted his heavy trunk into the back of the car for him, and Dudley had asked to accompany them to the train station. Petunia had waved as they pulled out of the driveway.
“Well, er,” Vernon seemed to be struggling with what to say here. His expression bordered on concern (perhaps for the unaccompanied minor about to enter the crowded train station?), but did not quite reach it. “Bye then.”
Vernon and Dudley were not going inside, which was for the best. Harry could only imagine what their reactions would be if he tried to explain Platform Nine and Three Quarters to them. Even with their reluctant acceptance that certain types of magic might not be terrible, walking through a magical wall onto a train platform would be too much for them to handle at this point. Maybe next year. Harry was convinced baby steps were going to be the key to making 'Operation: Make the Dursley’s Like Me' a success.
“See you,” Harry said as he got out of the car. Dudley waved, and Vernon waited until Harry was inside before driving away.