Becoming a Highly Effective Wizard

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I have any relationship with the company FranklinCovey.

Author's Note: I'll be continuing my others stories soon this plot came to me, and I needed to put it down before I could return to Vivre.

Summary: Uncle Vernon delegates his dreaded book-work for a self-improvement seminar sponsored by his company onto Harry's list of chores right after the event of Goblet of Fire. What Harry learns in the book sets him on a path of discovery and changes his paradigms for the better. (Vernon is a slightly better human being than canon while the other Dursleys are about the same.) Relationships TBD.

Chapter 1

The Senior Sales Director of Grunnings Drills, Vernon Dursley, sat at his desk and fumed. His secretary had just told him that the Owners had called for a mandatory two-day seminar the last Thursday and Friday of June and for a follow-up session to occur two weeks later.

He couldn't believe that he would have to be away from working leads and upselling current customers all because the owner's son that just graduated from Harvard Business School and thought he was the smartest person on Earth. So far Peter Grunnings, the recent graduate, had cut some of the ways he could wine and dine clients. That was annoying, but he could work around that. Also, Vernon could no longer take clients to a Gentleman's club nor could he expense his quarterly trips to Mallorca or Ibiza with is top customers. That might be more difficult, but he could be creative find new ways to reward those purchasers that lined his pockets. Rumor had it that Peter was going to restructure the way commission and bonuses would occur in the future. If that cut his bottom line, then there would be hell to pay.

Now that supposed wunderkind thought that some smartarse from the colonies who claimed that by following seven principles everyone could become more effective. What a bunch of namby-pamby nonsense. Vernon was the top salesman at Grunnings for more than 15 years. At different times companies like Bosch, Husqvarna, Hazet, Gedore, Stahlwille, and Makita had tried to recruit him, and it may just be time to consider their offers.

Luckily, Vernon would already be by King's Cross at the Novotel London St Pancras hotel for the seminar so that he could pick up Potter at the end of the Friday meeting. His wife would have been livid if she had to brave traffic for the so-called freak. She would have made Vernon's life almost unbearable if she had to take the two and a half hours to drive to King's Cross and back to Surrey. A key to a happy life was a happy wife after all.

It was too bad that she projected her resentment and jealousy of her sister onto that boy. Dudley had been a lightweight when it came to hard work, dedication, mental pursuits, and potential. So naturally, Dudley had been jealous of Potter. Vernon loved his son, but that boy had little potential outside of boxing or work as a bodyguard or a bouncer.

Potter could have been in University since age 10. He could have become a famous engineer, architect, doctor, or scientist by now. Vernon knew that Potter was brilliant but uncultivated. Without any early intervention and assistance, the kid had taught himself to read, write, and even handle fractions before his first year of Primary. He wished he could have inspired that boy's mind and pushed him because it would have played out well for him as the charitable Uncle had helped the orphan be one of the top minds in England.

Between his wife's hatred, Dudley's jealousy, and the kid's fate already destined to end up in that uncivilized and backward magical world there was no reason to take an interest in the boy. The letter from that neckbeard, Dumbledore, was clear that Harry would be going back to their world starting at age 11 for ten months of the year and would never return after he turned 17.

At least, he had saved 56,000 pounds by putting the boy to work as a cleaner, a cook, and a gardener over the years. He might even save another 9,000 pounds with four hours of chores per day for the next three summers.

Grudgingly, Vernon attended the meetings. He sat in the middle and pretended to be engaged more than most of the people in the room He kept his comments to a handful of thoughtful examples. Even if he hated being here, his face didn't show his contempt. He knew it was a game of impressions and he was going to keep his spot at the top. At the end of Friday's session, his boss handed out homework. The boss passed out a hardbound 350-page book that went into more detail than what they had covered over the past two days. Not only did he have to read this paperweight but he had to write short answers to almost 80 questions that could only be answered by reading the whole bloody thing. Due for the next meeting, no exceptions.

Inwardly, he wanted to yell at someone. Vernon wasn't book smart; he was people smart. He made more money than most of those cake boys in the city. This mandatory assignment was going to waste all of his free time until that next waste of two work days. He thought to himself, "I wish I could pay Dudders to do this report for me. Although I'd get fired for being a moron before the manager finished reading to the bottom of the first page." He had always known that Dudley was going to need to go into a nonconventional field. He had hoped he could be taught to sell, but it looked like boxing was the only thing that boy was good for so far. In the back of his mind, he was brainstorming ways to delegate this to someone else.

As he waited for Potter outside of platform nine ¾, he overheard a bushy-haired girl remind Potter that he needed to get the twelve summer essays done sooner than later as his best work was done early rather than procrastinated to the last possible minute. An idea formed in Vernon's head of a way he could delegate his work assignment.

"Potter, let's stop dawdling!"

Harry looked up and saw his impatient uncle. He mumbled a quick goodbye to Hermione and then quickly pushed his trolley laden with a trunk and bird to keep up with his uncle. As they approached the new Range Rover, Vernon opened the back he commanded, "Don't you dare scratch the paint!"

"Yes sir," replied Harry. Vernon was surprised that the boy was strong enough to heft his things into the back without assistance. Harry would never notice the hint of pride that flashed on Vernon's face. It was good to see that Harry was no longer the weakling that last year grunted and almost collapsed under the same task.

As they pulled out of the parking garage, Vernon decided to ask some questions to see if his idea had merit. He asked, "Potter, how did your school year go?"

Surprised for a moment, Harry questioned himself, 'why was Uncle Vernon making small talk with him. Vernon had always been his favorite Dursley, but the man had never talked with him. He gave orders and acknowledged satisfactory completion. Occasionally, he gave a compliment on exemplary work but what is going on?' Harry thought to himself. Before the pause was too long, Harry answered, "I was entered into an international competition and tied for first place. Because of the time commitment to the competition, I skipped the end of year testing, but I think I would have done rather well this year."

"That's good. How many essays do you write each week at that school of yours? Do you write them in the Queen's English or in some old language?" Vernon still had a hard time saying that cursed "M" word.

Harry had loads to say but figured it was best to keep it simple. He replied, "All of my essays are in modern English. I'd estimate that I write between 8 and 12 one-page essays a week and another 3 to 4 longer ones."

Vernon was more than pleased with these answers. It was almost like fate wanted this to happen. "Well Potter, I have a deal for you." He reached over and held up a book with his left hand while his right was on the steering wheel. "How long would it take you to read this book and answer 80 short answer questions about the material?"

Harry thought for a minute. If this were for Charms, Transfiguration, or Defense, he would finish in less than twelve hours, but he thought he could take his time and perhaps impress his uncle. He asked, "Could I have three days? I might be able to do a decent job in two." He had known as a little child to under promise and to over deliver.

'This was going to be great.' Vernon thought. "I will give you a whole week free of chores, but I want your best work. Every two days I'm going to check on the quality of the work and the progress to evaluate if you are doing well. If the quality is poor, I will hire you out to do chores for the neighbors from before sunrise like 5 am until after dark 930 or 10 pm every day of the week for the rest of the summer. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes sir," replied Harry. "Can I highlight passages and leave annotations in the margins? Also, can we stop at the store for some pens and a notebook? All I've got is a quill and some parchment."

"Wow quill and parchment, your kind is still living in the dark ages. The next thing you'll tell me is you use candlelight and huge fireplaces to keep warm," Vernon mocked. "Yes, let's buy that here in London before we get on the A40. There aren't any good shops by the junction to the M25, and the stationary stores in Surrey are overpriced and offer shoddy quality." If Vernon were truly honest with himself and Harry, he would have just stated he wanted to stop by his favorite burger and chips restaurant rather than sample more of those healthy meals Petunia was serving at home. Just because Dudley's coach required that his boxers to cut out all empty carbs and to focus their protein consumption on lean meats, it didn't mean that Vernon had to suffer. There were few things better than a greasy pastrami burger at Rose & Crown.

After the shopping and fast food, Vernon asked, "Alright Harry, what questions do you have about your new summer assignment?"

"What is the book called and what is it about?"

Vernon handed over a copy of The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. Vernon continued, "It is another one of those worthless self-help bibles written by an aspiring pseudo-cult leader. If I could, I would just bin it and keep on enjoying my life. However, the owner of my company is letting his son that just graduated from business school impart all of his supposed wisdom and left like a four-day seminar, required reading, and answer questions are going to make the company better.

Harry always remember the golden rule, 'he who has the gold makes the rules.' My boss pays my salary and so if he says I need to do this, then I get it done. Luckily, I can delegate this work to you and that you will do a great job because you're smart enough. I can use the time more productively to close customers and produce better results while coworkers are stuck doing this work. Any other questions?"

Harry answered, "I think that is clear. I may have some more after I read the book and start with the questions. Thanks for the burger. I would never have thought to put pastrami on a burger, but that was surprisingly better than a bacon burger."

They arrived at home after dark and Harry took his school things, the new purchases, and the book up to his room to get started on his newest priority.