A/N: I like 'Harry Improvement' stories. They've got exciting fight scenes, interesting world building, new magic and a Harry Potter who might stand a chance against Voldemort. Unfortunately many of these stories get a little too formulaic, so lets twist things up a little.

Chapter 1

Harry Potter leaned beneath his relative's window sill, prickly Hydrangea stems digging into his side as he listened to the muggle telly. It was his only hope of learning anything about the newly-returned Voldemort's crimes or battles.

"…and in other news sunny days galore as the drought continues into June and early July. Up next, valuable tips to save on valuable water."

No luck yet. Weather talk meant nothing interesting had happened. Hot, muggy air enveloped Harry like a blanket. Just above bruised bags, tired lids drooped. The wizard's head dropped an inch, chin into his chest. Sleep had been so elusive. Summer's warmth felt good on his bare skin, the furthest thing in the world from the cold air of the graveyard, the chilly stone beneath his cheek and back as Voldemort rose like a wraith.

Crack.

Harry shot away from the Hydrangea bush, head colliding hard with the windowsill above. On adrenaline-powered instinct, he drew his wand and aimed. Nothing. No graveyard. No death eaters. The most sinister figure around was his cousin Dudley. His pounding heart calmed. The crack had been a backfiring car, not the sound of death eaters teleporting in by the dozens. Nothing looked at all out of the ordinary or magical, nothing suspicious or strange. He relaxed. This was Privet Drive. The most interesting thing about it was Harry himself.

A cat fled to Ms. Figg's. Harry looked up just in time to be hit by a black blur. Lupine teeth flashed in his face. A Grim, the magical creature that foretold death. Its massive, fanged mouth descended on him.

A wet, pink tongue slobbered all over his face. "Padfoot?" Harry whispered, "What are you doing here?"

The dog stepped back, barked softly and another surprise stepped up, "Professor Lupin?"

"Hello Harry," he said softly, "The old dog wanted to come out and see you. He didn't think being trapped at a relatives' house was good for you…or for him."

The dog gave Professor Lupin a distinctly human pout.

A horrible suspicion flared up in Harry's mind. "Prove you're Professor Lupin." He pointed his wand at the graying, scarred man.

The dog's eyes widened and its bark sounded almost like a word but Remus smiled sadly and said, "I taught you your Patronus. It's a stag, like your father's animagus form."

Harry nodded and lowered his wand sheepishly but Remus shook his head, "None of that. These are dangerous times. A little extra caution could save your life." He lifted a few bags. "Now I have a little too much takeout for myself and Sirius has never been one for waiting patiently while there's food around.

For the first time since Voldemort's return, Harry smiled.

While Vernon was stomping off to work and Dudley stomping off with his gang, Harry led Remus and Sirius through the backyard and into the house. "So has there been any news? Any…attacks?" Harry asked quietly, "The muggle telly hasn't said anything."

"Let's get inside, have something to eat," Remus suggested. "There we can talk in private." He nodded to the peaking neighbors who vanished like puffs of smoke. Harry grimaced. Hopefully his aunt had gone shopping instead of gossiping.

There was one rickety chair in Harry's room. He offered it to Remus. Sirius flopped onto the bed and Harry sat beside him on the floor. Opening the bags, Remus pulled out several boxes that couldn't have fit without the aid of magic. "I wasn't certain about preferences, so I got a selection. As to what has happened: very little."

"What?" Harry frowned in disbelief, taking his box.

Sirius transformed back into a human, keeping away from the window, and ripped open his take-out box. "Remus," he warned. Harry looked worriedly between the two. "He's not wrong," Sirius defended. "Snake-face has been keeping a low profile. Not a disappearance or death that could lead back to him. Not since—"

Cedric. The name brought a ghost of the cruciatus to his heart. "That's good, right?" Harry managed a bite of food.

"Better than him murdering and torturing left and right," Sirius said, "But it makes his re-appearance hard to prove."

Harry couldn't have been struck so dumb by a silencio. The fork fell from his hands. "What more proof could they need? I saw everything, told everything." His voice rose. "The Minister heard Barty Crouch Jr's confession and Cedric!—" his throat choked up. "He…he died…" Harry trailed off.

In a placating voice Remus said, "We know, we believe you but Harry most people don't want to think about You-Know-Who. His previous reign was…" His voice turned hoarse with pain. "People died and vanished left and right; best friends and family mind-controlled. Corpses with their skin missing or worse, no body ever found." Remus looked Harry dead in the eye. "You have seen the briefest touch of the horror he can inflict. Most people don't want him to be back and if there isn't enough evidence—"

"A dead body isn't enough evidence?" Harry said. "What do they think happened, Cedric and I threw unforgivables at each other?"

Remus and Sirius stayed silent.

"They don't…"

"They cling to the lies because otherwise they would have to accept the truth," Remus added softly. "And the truth is Voldemort."

Harry poked at his food again but didn't eat.

"People really believe I killed Cedric?"

"Of course not, but everyone is saying what a horrible, tragic accident—"

"Ha," Sirius interrupted darkly, "If Fudge could make that charge stick you'd have been in Azkaban weeks ago." He pulled out several newspapers and clippings from another bag. "That's what's been happening."

"Great," Harry tossed one paper criticizing his lack of sanity toward the trash-can. "And while everyone sticks their heads in the sand believing the truth is bonkers, Voldemort is growing more powerful." Harry sprang to his feet. "What do I do?"

"Nothing." Remus soothed. "The Headmaster has not been idle. Not everyone believes the Prophet's rubbish. We have allies and plans. Take it from someone who's been through one war: enjoy your time now."

"He's been after me since I was a baby. The first time it was my parents. Last time it was Cedric," Harry's voice dropped. "What if it's Ron or Hermione…or you?"

Remus gave Sirius a look Harry couldn't read before smiling softly, "We will be careful and do our best not to take unnecessary risks."

Sirius grumbled, "I would rather die than live to see you die but we will do our damnest to stay alive."

Downstairs a door opened, freeing everyone from dark thoughts. Remus stood, "We should get going before we're found.

His godfather hugged him tightly, fiercely, a little desperately and Harry hugged back, savoring a glimpse of what could have been. "Thanks for visiting. Don't suppose I could visit you sometime?"

"Of course," Sirius said. "We'll work things out with Dumbledore. In the meantime," he paused and pulled out a mirror. "I was waiting until your birthday but you could really use this now. It's a two-way mirror. Anytime you want to talk, just say my name. Completely secure." He transformed back into a black dog.

Remus stood. "Goodbye Harry. I may be busy as well but never too busy for your owl."

Harry nodded and showed them out. "Thank you," he said just before they left. "Thank you for telling me…I'd rather know."

Remus nodded while Sirius gave him an inscrutable look and tapped the mirror with a paw. Then they vanished, leaving Harry with his answers and more nagging questions.

So lost in thought, he didn't hear the front door open.

There you ar—" She froze when, the instant he'd realized another person was there, Harry had drawn his wand, tip glowing before the enemy—

His aunt reeled away from him, white faced, "Put that thing away," she hissed.

—Not an enemy, just Petunia. Harry lowered the wand and she regained her composure. "What is wrong with you boy?" she snapped. "Well never mind, Duddy dins needs his luncheon and tea and I need—"

His temper returned, "I've got other things to do."

Petunia wrinkled her nose as though she'd gotten a whiff of dog shit. "That can wait—"

"Bugger off," Harry snapped and turned away.

She drew back with what she thought was haughty indignity. "See if you get any supper with that attitude," she huffed.

Harry ignored her. The Weasleys and Hermione had come through this summer too. Hermione. He brushed past his aunt and headed for the phone. Now what was her number again?

It took a phone book, but with a click, someone picked up the other line. "Hello," he mustered a scrap of politeness for the receiver, "This is Harry, may I speak to Hermione?" The voice on the telephone gave an affirmative.

"Harry? Why are you calling on the phone?" Hermione asked, "Not that I'm not happy to hear from you…"

"Snuffles told me about Voldy's arse-lickers. Don't want them intercepting the mail." He sighed, "I was hoping you could come over, I need…," Harry said.

"Of course, what time?"

"The sooner the better. He's alive and recruiting and the ministry is trying to pretend he doesn't exist and I'm the crazy one."

"I'll be there," Hermione said firmly.

Never let it be said Hermione backed down from a challenge. Her parents were still parking the car when she barged into the Dursley home, a bushy head of hair looming above a scroll of parchment hanging down to her calves. "I've outlined a rough idea for a training schedule regarding—" She stopped, lowered the parchment and looked between Petunia and Dudley. "Oh...where's Harry?"

"You-you…boy! You may not have your freakish friends…" Petunia began. She halted at the sight of Hermione's parents.

Mrs. Granger's jaw was set in an iron clench, her eyes like obsidian, her face as rigid as Professor McGonagall at her sternest. She was of a height with Petunia, but with the set of her shoulders and stance she towered over his aunt. Had she been a dragon, Harry thought, she would have smote Petunia to ashes with one infuriated breath.

Mr. Granger, of average height and healthy, which meant he was half Dudley's weight, was no less intimidating. Wild hair and an electric gleam in his eye gave him the aura of a mad scientist. One about to add the lightning.

"Not another syllable," Mrs. Granger said with terrible, controlled anger. "You will not refer to your own nephew or my daughter with anything less than politeness."

Petunia had some scrap of spirit, for her face whitened but her lips whitened as well. Fear and indignation warred in her mind and body, however she had instilled no strength in her son. After a lifetime of picking on those weaker than him, Dudley had all the spirit of a scavenger. He fled.

"And you will apologize to my daughter and your nephew." Mr. Granger added.

"My apologies." Petunia spoke in a tone of broken glass. "I have important business at Number Five."

This was a bold-faced lie, as she'd just come back from 'important business' at Number Five but Harry said nothing while his aunt left, her stride nearly quick as a run. "Sorry about her," he apologized to the Grangers.

"Well you can't choose family," Mrs. Granger invited herself into the parlor.

"Her behavior isn't your fault. I'll make some tea anyway. It would be good for you youngsters to have a nip after whatever summer plans you're getting up to." Mr. Granger added. "Just remember I could deliver it up there at any time. Any time."

"Proper tea. Without sugar," Mrs. Granger referred to the substance with all the vehemence Gryffindors usually referred to Slytherin. "I'm certain the Dursleys won't mind." She followed him into the kitchen.

Harry was certain the Dursleys would mind very much, but he cared even less for their opinion than the Grangers and only thanked Hermione's parents. "Have fun with your summer plans and do not eat any carnival food," Mrs. Granger added.

"Carnival food?" Harry whispered as soon as they were upstairs. "What do they think we're doing?" He reached for his door. "Don't they know?"

Hermione bowed her head, voice dropping, "Oh Harry I couldn't tell them. A wizard Hitler come back to life to kill us all. I'm frightened enough. How do you think my parents would feel?"

Harry hadn't ever asked how his friends were managing and felt his heart twist in a knot.

"And they would pull me out of Hogwarts in a second. We'd be half-way to Australia if they knew." Suddenly Harry was surrounded by bushy hair, vice-like arms and parchment. "But it's nothing compared to you. Witnessing Voldemort coming back and Cedric dying—" He flinched. She jerked back, "—Oh, I'm sorry I—"

"Look let's just…" he drew away, "First of all how do I know you're Hermione?"

"I suppose we do need to be more careful. We brewed Polyjuice Potion together in Myrtle's bathroom," she said promptly. "And how can I be sure you're Harry?"

"We rescued Sirius and Buckbeak with your time-turner," Harry said, smiling faintly.

"When Ron gets here that is going to be the first thing on the agenda, figuring out a way of telling the difference between friend and foe." She paused and made a note of it on the parchment. "The first war was…characterized by imperious curses and polyjuiced impersonators—splintering group cohesion. You did call Ron right?"

"Yes Professor Granger," Harry teased. "Right after I got ahold of you." They entered Harry's bedroom where Hermione took in the cramped space and second-hand furniture. Physical proof of the Dursleys neglect.

The awkward moment was broken with a knock on the window.

At first Harry thought Ron had gotten an invisibility cloak, or maybe the vague outline of a person was because of a spell. He opened the window a crack. "What's the emergency?" His friend asked.

Well, that was Ron's voice.

"How do we know you're Ron?"

Ron sighed, "You're turning into Mad-Eye mate. Right I love Chudley Cannons—"

"—Something only Ron would know—"

"—and Lockhart caved-in the Chamber of Secrets when he tried obliviating us with my broken wand." Harry shoved the window higher and Ron floated in, looking distorted and chameleon-like until he pulled out a vial and downed it. Visibility rippled over him. "So, what's going on?"

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked.

"One of Fred and George's products they wanted testing. I wasn't about to fly anything but a broom." He shuttered, "Cars just aren't meant to be in the air."

Neither of his muggle raised friends said a word about brooms. "We need to prepare." Hermione unfurled the scroll, "Now that V-Voldemort is back he is certainly preparing for war, we need to keep safe."

"I've talked with Snuffles and Professor Lupin, they both say Voldemort's recruiting but not killing…yet," Harry said.

"And the ministry doesn't know the Quaffle's been thrown," Ron said wisely. "I've heard loads from my house. We're all moving into some sort of secret headquarters for a while. More strange people have been coming over: aurors, Mad-Eye himself, even Snape. Dumbledore's calling them up. The ministry might not be liftin' a finger—blimmey Percy won't shut it on his stupid quarterly iteming report—but Dumbledore is."

"That's great and all but I don't want to sit here while other people risk their lives for us." Harry said.

A more sensitive person would have kept their mouth shut at the look on Harry's face. Ron blithely continued. "They're trained aurors mate. Some of them anyway. We're school-kids. What can we do that they can't? Mione, this looks like a list of summer homework. The profs have given us enough of that."

"We can do something besides waiting for Voldemort to attack Hogwarts at the end of this year. Again." Harry said. "He's always been after us. Me especially," For a moment Harry looked at them guiltily.

"All of us," Hermione read his expression. "I'm a mudblood and Ron's a blood-traitor—"

"Too right. We're in this together," Ron added.

"—He will be after all of us, which is why we need to prepare. This is a bit like summer homework, only if we fail the consequences are a little graver than a T."

Harry winced as Ron looked over the list. "Wandless magic? Potions? Guns? What's all this?" Ron asked.

"We're underage," Hermione said, "And I haven't found a way around those laws—"

"Hermione trying to break a law?" Ron teased.

"—and we need some method of self-defense so I was hoping to go into wandless magics of some sort, such as potions."

"Too much to hope for some kind of super-secret, uber-powerful magical casting that doesn't require a wand," Harry asked.

"If there was mate, would we be paying Ollivander seven galleons for a stick?" Ron pointed out. "And that's with Ministry helpin' out. But what's with the gums?"

"Guns are muggle weapons but there's no reason we cannot use them ourselves, or enchant them to make them better once we're in school," said Hermione. "Besides it's the only kind of muggle fighting practical against magic and capable of being mastered over a summer. The sort of people Voldemort likes to recruit aren't likely to be exposed to them either."

"If muggle gungs—"

"Guns Ron."

"—Guns are so great why isn't Dumbledore using them?"

Hermione slipped into lecture-mode. "There are two main downsides. Guns are heavily restricted in most countries, with the notable exception of the United States, so we will have a difficult time acquiring something of defensive value. The second downside is…they are lethal. If we use guns, we will use them to kill."

No one added anything.

Ron cleared his throat, "So potions, physical fitness?" He laughed weakly, "Trying to torture us?"

"We can't practice wand magic until September first, which is over two months away," Hermione said. "Until then we must learn those skills we can without a wand. Do you have enough potions supplies for all of us?"

"The Dursleys won't like it," Harry said, digging through his trunk. "No time like the present."

"But you just said…" Hermione trailed off. "Oh very well. I also brought my copy of Most Potente Potions."

"Bonkers," Ron grumbled. "Potions during summer vacation and muggle guns. Prophet's right, you are nutters mate." He paused and in a moment of self-realization added, "And I'm followin' you so I've gone 'round the bend too."

Petunia returned hours later, her welcome worn out among her neighbors. She stiffened when she saw the car still parked where her husband's normally was—and such a plain old thing, at least ten years out of date and the green door clashed horribly with the vaguely-orange coating. Oh what if the neighbors thought it was their car? They would gossip for weeks, the shrill bitches. But when she opened the door, she forgot all about that family. The stench emanating from her house was worse than any neighborly gossip. That awful, disgusting reek wasn't a toilet eruption or rotten food or any normal unpleasant odor. No, this was the stench of magic.

With righteous indignation Petunia stormed inside, holding her nose, to spy two cauldrons on her stove-top. She had eyes for nothing else. Not the three teens carefully adding ingredient after ingredient to a slowly simmering cauldron. Not the wonder (and disgust) on the Granger's faces as the liquid turned different strange colors, sometimes bubbling ominously, sometimes settling into a soothing simmer.

"No." She shrieked. "Not magic. Not in my house. Out. Out! Out!"

"They're not done yet; we still have to add the—" Hermione began.

"Out!"

"Not until they're finished," Harry said, "Unless you want the whole house to explode?"

Petunia turned white as a sheet. Then the color of moldy sausage gravy and shot out Number Four without an excuse, all dignity abandoned. "Diddy dums, where are you?"

"They won't really explode? Will they?" Mr. Granger asked, shifting nervously.

"Of course not," said Hermione.

"Not unless Neville was making 'em," Ron added. "Now there's a bloke with a future in demolitions. Last potions class got canceled early and he's a week into summer vacation cleaning it all up."

"Really? You're alright though?"

"Of course," said Hermione, "There are spells cast in the classroom itself, wards and things, to keep students from being injured."

"But not ones to stop us from growing donkey ears," Harry grumbled.

"Did Shakespeare get a potion right in…Macbeth I believe it was," Mrs. Granger asked curiously.

"No." All three shouted. Hermione flushed, "It produces a purple goo that sticks to everything and takes three weeks to get off the classroom stone."

"Edgecomb was hounded by Ravenclaw for a month after that. She made them all look like dunderheads," Ron said.

"Done now." Hermione announced and the trio quickly began bottling the potions.

"You're perfectly welcome to continue brewing at our house," Mrs. Granger said.

Mr. Granger frowned, "As long as your next concoctions will be less aromatic," he wrinkled his nose.

"Don't worry, these were just the especially smelly ones," Harry said. "My cousin needs to lose weight anyway."

"Well then if you're all done let's fetch your ingredients and climb into the car," Mrs. Granger announced.

"Car?" Ron asked nervously.

"Don't worry Ron, it doesn't fly," Hermione said.

"What?" her parents turned toward her.

"Don't ask," Harry said.

The drive to Hermione's house wasn't long. The Grangers didn't live in Little Whinging but as soon as all the houses stopped looking like the results of a duplication charm, her mother pulled up to a beautiful two-story home. Unlike the Dursleys, their garden was a little ragged, but bountiful.

"These muggle homes sure are built strange," Ron commented. Harry gave him a look that said he had no room to talk about the strangeness of homes. "What?"

"Nevermind. Why haven't we visited each other Mione?" He asked. "A little far for walking but I could have flown here." If he'd snatched Dudley's racing bike before his cousin trashed it he could have biked here.

Hermione flushed, "Well, you haven't ever called before. I did invite you over the first summer back but—"

"Ah, Dobby."

The elder Grangers were clearly eaten up by curiosity, but restrained themselves to asking. "So what are you making? Some sort of over-summer assignment."

"Yes," Hermione said, "Though we're going a little above and beyond. Of all the teachers at Hogwarts Professor Snape has the strictest standards for his NEWT classes." She slipped into a lecture tone automatically.

"Nothing too smelly here dear." One Dr. Granger said. "Will you need the kitchen for the rest of the day?"

"That's okay," Hermione said. "My makeshift lab will suffice but thank you. Come on Ron, Harry, I'll show you up."

"Don't forget, we'll be checking in. Randomly." Said the other Dr. Granger.

Hermione's room was about the size of Dudley's but the lack of dirty laundry piles, broken toys and food threatening to become inferi made it look larger. Everything was laid out neat and organized. The bed in one corner. Bookshelves dominated another corner and two of the walls, wooden planks sagging beneath the weight of her personal library. In the opposite corner was a desk, a portable burner and more than the standard kit of potion's supplies.

"I suppose your parents are used to you brewing," Harry commented.

"Well, I have to do something over summer break," Hermione said. "Now while we're doing this we need to figure out a way of getting into the States and getting those guns."

"Can't we Owl Order?" Ron said. "The States are nuts. Torch-toting muggles. Paranoid Mad-eye Moody wizards. Are these guns that important?"

"Potions can only take us so far," Hermione said. "Don't worry, I've been to the States before with no harm and both Harry and I are good enough to disguise you as a muggle. Since we're underage we won't be able to use our wands anyway."

"Very reassuring 'mione."

Harry carefully started up the burner under Hermione's watchful eye. Ron added distilled water and asked the important question, "So if we can't Owl Order or anything, how're we going to get there?"

"Portkey?" Hermione suggested. Harry winced. "Sorry Harry."

"No, it's okay. I'm good."

Hermione and Ron gave him doubtful looks. "Portkeys cost a pretty penny and everything about them's tied up in laws," Ron said. "Percy finished ten feet of portkey regulations a week ago."

"Flying?" Hermione asked.

"Would take days and we'd all have to get brooms and not racing ones either, not for a trip across the pond."

"No, I mean on an airplane. Muggle airplanes can make the journey in less than a day," said Hermione. "Besides," she continued in the 'thinking as she spoke' tone, "That would cement us as muggles."

"We can't disappear for days," Ron said. "Mum will go spare. Then we won't have to worry about You-Know-Who."

"And if you say you're staying here?" Hermione asked.

"She'll owl your parents. And they'll go spare."

Hermione bit her lip nervously, "That won't be a problem," she opened Most Potente Potions, "With this."

"The confundus potion?" Harry looked the recipe over.

Ron sighed, "Better not be stinky or your parents will be all over us."

A/N: I can't honestly see the trio permanently abandoning four years of friendship or betraying any of the others right off the bat. Anyway, Harry's not a planner so Hermione would be better for making up a list and thinking of ways to train. Ron, as in canon, keeps his friends on the sensible side of things. Or tries.

I'm a little surprised Sirius didn't talk Remus into visiting Harry in canon like this, but he totally would and their visit gave Harry the push he needed to reach out himself.