Disclaimer: JKR is Queen. I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I wouldn't be so stressed about paying for my undergrad.

A/N: My first attempt at writing Fanfiction after reading several million words of it. Feel free to be as critical as you like. I can take criticism, in fact, I love it because it makes me better. 😊 AU details and tropes are noted in summary and may change as I keep writing. For now: Restriction of underage magic does not apply to scions of Noble Houses, Statute of Secrecy only applies to situations where Muggles directly witness events inexplicable without magic or where the obliviators are needed.

As this is my first time using this site to publish my work, I'm expecting some technical difficulties. Please bear with me as we begin this journey of what was, what is, and what could be:)

1: A Nighttime Encounter

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Harry's vision blinked into focus as he awoke, gradually becoming aware of his surroundings. The standard white ceiling, haphazardly painted blue walls, and worn furniture of his room at the Dursley's appeared menacingly in the dim light from his enchanted nightlight. He glanced at the alarm clock next to his parent's photo on his nightstand. The display blinked at him, 3:34 AM. Harry was used to waking up periodically in the night due to nightmares and Dudley's torments, but this felt different. He scanned his surroundings, but without his glasses, his vision was useless for anything beyond a 10-foot radius. Something was off, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. He shut his eyes and feigned sleep to better listen to his environment. He could still her Vernon's snoring from down the hall, the rasping hackle, ironically resembling the drills he was so fond of selling, penetrating the oppressive silence of nighttime at the Dursley's. That was good, if Vernon awoke he would no doubt find some way to place blame for his poor sleep on Harry or "His kind," despite the plethora of more logical explanations. As far has Harry's hearing could tell, nothing else stirred in the house or sounded out of place.

Vernon's snoring reminded Harry just how closely he had come this year to having a family of his own with Sirius. It amazed Harry how such a simple thing could spark such an emotional reaction in him. Harry imagined that listening to the breathing or snores of someone who loved him, even merely wanted him, would be infinitely better than the guttural sound emanating from the room down the hall.

Harry then reached out with his magic, using a wandless technique he had learned in one of his occlumency books borrowed over the summer. He believed this technique was similar to how Dumbledore always found him when he used his father's cloak. The technique required the wizard to visualize his surroundings, forming a mental picture of their surroundings in greyscale. Then to imagine their magic sweeping over it, and finally, push their magical core into the picture. Analyzing it, studying it, and searching the mental map for any magical residue. If done correctly, Harry would see coloured auras of different magical beings and items against a greyscale mosaic of mundane items. Like most mental magics, it was very intent-based, with no formal incantation or wand movement, unlike Homenum Revelio, which relies as much on incantation and wandwork as intent. As Harry channeled his magic into the mental picture, he saw the comforting, familiar red glow of his wand on his nightstand, the inviting blue aura of his enchanted trunk hidden under his bed and out of sight of the Dursleys, and Hedwig's pale yellow form in her cage. Nothing was amiss in his room, yet he couldn't shake the feeling of malaise that only grew as his senses failed to identify the source.

Harry expanded the mental image to include the entire Dursley property. When he did this, he noted a suppressed purple and orange aura hovering outside of his window. He immediately recognized the orange aura as that of a broomstick, however he found the purple harder to place. He guessed that the figure was under some sort of disillusionment or invisibility charm. Keeping his eyes shut as he maintained the mental image, Harry quietly grabbed his glasses and wand from his bedside table, enjoying the warm feeling he always felt when he held his wand. Harry felt his wand thrum slightly in his hand in response to the anticipation building within Harry. His pulse quickened as he thought about his next move. His fight-or-flight instinct was beginning to kick in. He knew that any overt movement would certainly draw the attention of the figure on the broomstick, but staying in bed gave the upper hand to the figure. He had to do something.

Apparition and portkeys were out. Harry wouldn't learn apparition for a few more years and portkeys needed to be made ahead of time. He couldn't leave the room on foot either. His door was locked and the window remained blocked by the figure on the broomstick. He was effectively trapped. However, the figure didn't know that he knew that. Harry knew from years of dealing with Slytherin attacks and the Weasley twins' continual pranks that forewarned is forearmed.

Harry opened his eyes and blinked away the last vestiges of sleep. Now awake and alert, he turned over, masking the movement as a natural shift people do while sleeping, so he could see his alarm clock. 3:39 AM. 5 whole minutes had passed. What was the figure waiting for? Harry decided he didn't want to wait to find out. He mentally went through the incantations and wand movements for what he was about to do to prevent a mistake. He knew it was likely the only chance he would have should the figure wish to harm him.

Harry threw every fiber of his being into his next four words.

'LUMOS MAXIMA! Alohomora! Expelliarmus!'

Harry shouted as he jumped from bed while closing his eyes. He felt the unfamiliar wand land in his outstretched left hand as his disarming charm hit its target through the now open window. As he had hoped, the bright light form the overpowered lumos charm momentarily stunned the figure and allowed harry to open the window and disarm the figure before it could do anything.

'Finite. Stupefy,' Harry spoke quietly as he pointed his wand out the window and cast an area-effect finite charm to remove the disillusionment from the figure. He wasn't sure if the figure was still armed, so he stunned it for good measure. The now-visible and unconscious figure sprawled out on the lawn unconscious wearing a fashionable yet practical green cloak and good with sturdy dragon-hide boots. Before Harry could get a good look, a shout rang out from down the hall.

'BOY! What in bloody hell is going on?! There better be a good explanation for this racket! I told you no nonsense this summer!'

'Shit,' Harry thought to himself, 'dearest uncle Vernon is awake.'