Disclaimer: Aww shucks Ms. Rowling, I was just goofin'…

First Steps to a Better You

Chapter 1: New Resolve

Harry Potter had been returned to captivity for the summer. Things were actually progressing remarkably well for the young wizard, a pleasant diversion from years past. A little warning from the Order of the Phoenix had taken care of Harry's troubles from his relatives. That is to say, the warning in Kings Cross finally gave Harry the excuse he had been waiting for these past five years.

Harry could not tell if Vernon's face was so red from the verbal assault on the platform, the twenty yard walk to the car, or just the sheer effect it took him to squeeze his girth into the space between the seat and the steering wheel. Nor did he care very much. He was too busy thinking of ways to steal Mad-Eye Moody's swirling magical eye, and possible his other as well.

Yes, I am so glad these are the people protecting the world from Voldemort. Brilliant ideas they have. Maybe for my birthday they can get Vernon fired from his job and then lock the two of us in the Cupboard under the Stairs. Subtle like a brick to the skull. And I bet they were just so proud of themselves.

It was nevertheless one of the quieter trips from London to Little Whinging that Harry had endured. Pulling into the driveway of Number 4, a flick of a latch had the back opened and Harry scrambling to grab his trunk and race Vernon into the house and up the stairs. He almost made it too.

Blinking wearily, he tried to see where the attacking Death Eaters were, when he noticed his cousin staring down at him with what looked to be a smirk. The half masticated sausage all over his teeth and lips ruined the effect. Even a first year Slytherin had a more developed and devious smirk than Dudley's current visage. Vernon's huffing and puffing was getting closer to the front door, so Harry did what he usually did in these types of situations. He allowed his instinct to take his left hand and hurl a fist into Dudley's crouch.

The first lesson of the summer was that Harry should be more mindful of his surroundings. The second was that Harry needed to tell his instinct the while appreciated, it had to remember to bring intelligence along with it next time it visits. Dudley's foot came crashing down to drive the air from Harry's, having been duly protected by the cup he wore, seeing as he had just come from boxing practice. The shorts and still taped hands should have been a dead giveaway.

Intelligence decided to make an appearance now that breathe left, and it brought with it a whole lot of rage. A shake of his sleeve preceded a warm holly feel to his hand, which was then lifted in one smooth motion to fire what looked to be distorted air at the snickering boxer. Iacio! Dudley's face became the definition of abject terror as he realized what was about to happen in the way that pigeons realize just before they smash into the window. Not only did Dudley take out a good chunk of the stairway railing, he also smashed a large vase of roses, the door to the kitchen, one of the kitchen chairs, and eventually came to rest with his head indenting the base of the stove.

Since intelligence was not too shabby, Harry spun on the ground and with a well practiced and overpowered Accio, Vernon soared over Harry's head to join Dudley in the kitchen. He was not willing to take the risk of Vernon retaliating while he was still on the ground. Coughing a bit as he pushed himself to his feet, Harry realized that while unable to speak for lack of breath, he was still able to command his powers. Unfortunately, rage had been replaced by simmering anger, and intelligence took a backseat. He would have to do a lot more mental exercise before he was clever enough to understand that sort of magical theory from one event, no matter how instructive.

Judging by the fact that his eardrums were still intact, his aunt must not have been home to greet him. He was under no illusion that her shrill braying would not have assaulted him from the beginning of his little retaliation. No matter though, Harry would deal with her later. He proceeded into the kitchen to find Dudley still unconscious with Vernon trying to shake him awake.

Not really appreciating the symmetry, Harry spoke in a low voice, "He won't wake up." Vernon's heart leaped into his chest. He lifted his head just in time to see a fist strike him on the chin. Normally this would have made Vernon laugh, but Harry had wrapped a kitchen towel around his hand before alerting Vernon to his presence. A whispered spell later had the towel transfigured into a crude and brittle metal that still retained the horrendously ugly sunflower pattern. Harry was not looking for anything special, fortunately, just something nice and blunt. At least two of Vernon's teeth cracked from the impact that sent him back to the ground with Dudley.

Having sufficiently made his point, Harry pulled over a chair that had escaped being made kindling and sat down. His wand did not leave his hand, though his eyes roamed the room, keeping an eye on the two lumps on the ground and waiting for his official reprimand. He began whistling the melody of a Celestina Warbeck tune that he'd heard on Seamus' wireless a few weeks back. It always amused him that the slowly changing wizarding world was nevertheless just as attracted to entertainment technology as the muggles they disdained. Before he had reached the chorus for the third and final time, a tap on the window had him leaning over the sink to open it up.

"No reply," he waved his hand dismissively after taking the scroll from the bird, and the owl hurled itself back out the way it came. Twirling the scroll in his hand, he sat back down and broke the seal.

To Mr Harry Potter:

On the afternoon of July 3rd the following spells were detected at your place of residence: one Hurling Hex, one Summoning Charm, one cloth to metal transfiguration spell, one metal to cloth transfiguration spell. These spells constitute a violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. Per Ministerial Decree 49873 – An Addendum to the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery during Wartime, you are hereby ordered to pay the sum of 5 galleons per illegal action. Failure to pay the fine within 30 days will result in further action up to a fine of 500 galleons, expulsion from Hogwarts School, and 1 year in Azkaban.

Sincerely,
Mafalda Hopkirk
Improper Use of Magic Office

"Looks like Fudge is still bumbling along. Finally admits what we've been telling him for a year, and rather than act competently, he just muddies the water and pretends to do something. Not to mention adding one more way to line the ministry's pockets. Ah well, I'm sure Dumbledore will take care of it. He ought to be good for something. Now, where was I? Oh yes! Rennervate!"

The Rennervate spell is quite handy as a counter curse for the stunning spell, but most healers and mediwitches would tell you that it is a very poor substitute for reviving someone for most other conditions. Without that spell to end, the magic instead drags the conscious back to the forefront kicking and screaming all the way. It is recommended that even as emergency first aid this spell is avoided since it causes the target to suffer a severe migraine once the energy from the spell has dissipated from the brain, complicating other injuries. Harry had read that all by himself during the furious studying he had undertaken for the Tournament. It seemed appropriate enough to him here, and besides, he hadn't bothered looking up a better way to wake up the Dursleys.

Groaning against the taste of blood in their mouths, Dudley and Vernon sat up and promptly vomited all over the floor in their haste. A vanishing spell took care of most of that, which brought four eyes back to their aggressor. The combination of wariness, confusion, and pain seemed out of place in the usual vacant eyes whose only real experience of wariness came from physical activity, confusion from trying to read books with actual words, and pain from the discovery that deep frying licorice would in fact not taste divine. Still, it served to increase Harry's amusement, which he thought was a refreshing change in the sterile kitchen.

"Let's be perfectly clear who is in charge this summer, my dear family. I may have acted like a scared little pussie for the last 15 years, but that has all changed. I no longer need you for anything, and if anything you need me. I am here against my will, so listen closely. You will both stay out of my way. I will not see you, you will not see me. Otherwise, I can quite easily kill you both and make it look like an accident. I can even make it look like Aunt Petunia did it. So don't fuck with me. Are we clear?"

Rather than answer the very simple question, Dudley raised one of his sausages to point at the letter on the table. "Y-you'll be expelled! They'll snap that stick of yours, and then you'll get – AAAHH!" A stinging hex straight to the genitals is liable to cut a man off in mid-rant. Harry needed to show these two that he was not messing around. Plus, he needed to make up for the failed punch earlier.

"Petrificus. Blink once if we are clear." The lack of inflection in his voice was much more effective than even the profanity, and Vernon and Dudley looked like they had caught a tic their eyes were blinking so rapidly at him. Finite. Harry grabbed a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread from the cupboards as the two wounded Dursleys crumpled to the floor again. He then proceeded up the stairs to his room, calmly levitating his trunk behind him.

The next ministry letter had upped the fine to 10 galleons per spell. "Let's make it 15, shall we?" An incendio and vanishing spell later had that note taken care of, and Harry flopped back down on his bed with his bread and peanut butter, settling in for lunch. Once his stomach was full, he flipped open his trunk and began rummaging for a book he'd grabbed from the library regarding wards.

Once he learned about the blood wards that kept him prisoner, Harry was not about to suffer without getting something out of this mess. Dumbledore's explanation of just how the wards worked had him a bit worried about their tenacity, so he grabbed a book from the restricted section before leaving. A quick "Dumbledore's authorization" to Madam Pince enabled him to get out of there alive, or at least without any more aggravation than he needed. The book was thorough in explaining the dangers of casting blood magic, and in describing many sorcerers who had lost life and limb to even the tiniest carelessness. The book was nearly useless, however, in explaining the weaknesses of blood wards once they had all ready been successfully cast.

The only information that Harry was able to immediately apply to his current situation was that when blood wards were used to anchor and magnify a spell, they could only be broken by a concentrated effort by either the caster or target of the spell, or by destroying the ward stones. Dumbledore's blathering about calling Privet Drive home was just that. Harry would have to do a lot more than even renouncing the Dursley's as kin to break the wards. It also led him to another book that would explain shifting the wards.

If lacking sufficient control or power, the primary living target of the blood ward may be split among two specimen of close blood tie. This tie must be within two generations and greater than second cousins. Such a split is primarily done to include children as targets of priority for protective spells linked to blood wards. At any time either of the targets gains such control over their magic, a moderately powerful wizard can take full command over the blood ward, enabling manipulation. This manipulation is requisite for the target to dismantle the blood ward, enhance or otherwise alter the blood ward, or move the blood ward to another location. For further information, see Calen Quirke's dissertation in chapter 11 of Blood Rites and their Material Components.

Harry suspected that he had enough power. He admitted that his age 13 patronus was becoming a bit stale as a signal of his magical strength, but it was still impressive. His laziness during other times of his education was truly at fault for his moments of stupidity, insecurity, and lack of certain skills. It was probably some sort of rebellion against the work-ethic that was beaten into him growing up. His friendship with Ron Weasley made up the rest. He'd have to rethink the time he spent with Ron in the coming years. Balancing his resolve to starting actually living up to the potential the sorting hat saw in him with keeping his friendship would be a challenge. However, .it was not as if he had some secret overpowering Slytherin side that did not know how to have friends that lacked a practical value. He loved Ron like a brother, and it was a simple as that. Plus, that thick skull could probably be used as a weapon at some point.

That is not to say that gathering allies to him was not a consideration. The DA was an excellent start in building himself his own personal militia if and when it came down to needing such a group. He suspected most of his war participation would be running more guerilla sort of tactics, but having a sizable force at the ready could not be a bad thing. Placing your best weapon in open combat was not very smart thinking, but if necessary, surrounding it with able bodies was the next best thing. Most of them were still very green and untrained, but with a bit more active participation next school year from the administration, Harry was going to look into remedying that problem. Just because he was considering using his classmates to his advantage did not mean he wanted them simply to be fodder.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Harry closed the book and went to the rickety desk in the corner. A small stack of order forms from Flourish and Blotts, courtesy of Hermione, laid waiting. Filling in the form, Harry listed the ward book, along with copies of a beginning tome on ancient runes and arithmancy that his smartest friend had suggested. She had unfortunately given hers to a poor muggleborn Ravenclaw the previous year. The ward book reminded him how foolish he had been in taking divination and care of magical creatures as his electives, rather than the more academic subjects. Except for being around Hagrid, Harry loathed CoMC. He had yet to meet an animal aside from Hedwig that he genuinely liked. The intelligent ones such as the headmaster's phoenix seemed to be just fine without human care. The rest usually tried to kill him, and such events were best left to be covered in Defense. He would not permit himself to waste time on yet another rant against Trelawny.

Knowing there was little hope in actually catching up to his grade level in either subject before graduation, Harry hoped that at least with his independent study he'd be at OWL level shortly thereafter. Once he began working against Voldemort in earnest, he was sure he'd run into things like wards and traps that he'd need at least some knowledge of these intricate magical theories to unravel. He'd have to ask Hermione to borrow her assignments from the last few years and maybe to tutor him if he came to a block.

Another ministry owl winged its way down to the second bedroom window and stuck its leg out. Grinning, Harry unrolled the parchment and read.

Mr. Potter,

Per order of the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, you are hereby declared deputized as an attaché of the office of Wizengamot security under Title XVI of the Wizengamot Formation Act. Your previous fines accrued on July 3rd are rescinded. You are hereby exempt from the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underaged Sorcery. The International Statue of Secrecy, of course, still applies. Responsibility for your actions undertaken in the course of your duties will fall directly to your principle, reinstated Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore.

Yours truly,
Gregory Bains
Chief of Staff
Office of the Chief Warlock of the British Wizengamot

Harry was not sure what to make of this new development. On one hand, this would make it easier for Dumbledore to shield him from the ministry. On the other, after Voldemort's outing, Harry was more than ever in the good graces of the wizarding world and once again a significant factor in many political ambitions. Aside from those pesky little fines that he had no intention of paying anyway, was giving more authority over him to Dumbledore really necessary?

No other owls arrived for Harry in the next week. He was able to suitably silence even Aunt Petunia with frequently threats of turning them all into half-animals and chasing them down the streets of Little Whinging in his very own Freak Parade. His ordered books arrived, and Harry had ample time to begin studying. Between his new subjects, he also focused hard on potions. Without any real care of blowing himself up inside the powerful protects on the house, Harry experimented with some more powerful variants of the wit-sharpening potion and some memory enhancers. Finally starting to take his academics seriously was going to take a bit more than willpower if he wanted to make progress before August at the earliest. And so Harry's routine began taking shape.

In no time flat, his birthday came and went. He had received various gifts from his friends, some practical and some sentimental, but they all made him smile. Dumbledore informed him that he'd be able to leave the Dursley's shortly, and had even come through with a few primers on wards that Harry had expressed an interest in. It was an appreciated gesture. The old headmaster had even gone one step further and provided a few other books, with the request that he wait until he had some more supervision before attempting any of the magics within.

Currently, Harry was struggling with the second chapter of Rituelle Magie des Rheinlands. He had finally cracked the English to German translation spell from the Standard Book of Spells: Grade 6 the night before. It had taken a concerted effort lasting nearly three days to understand, practice, and perfect that spell. He took to heart the warning that inaccurately casting the spell, and thus inaccurately translating a text, could prove disastrous when dealing with foreign spellwork. Fortunately, the majority of the spell could be reused for other languages. Harry was particularly intrigued by the hints that this spell category was a prerequisite to a more advanced assimilation of language arts. He'd made no real headway into the other Dumbledore books, which left the foreign language books remaining. Not being a total idiot, Harry suspected that this particular tome would be an excellent way to gain access to all the others. Thus, his current furrowed brow and squinting eyes.

"I pity the sucker who had to experiment to find that position…that had to come about by accident…ouch, not the eye, mate…whoa!" Harry's mutterings were broken off by the sight of a very naked couple performing a very intimate ritual that not even Dudley in all his internet 'research' was likely to come across. His gawking was interrupted by a surreptitious throat clearing that nearly gave him a heart attack.

Standing at the foot on his bed, wearing the most garish chartreuse robes, eyes twinkling like he'd just caught his older brother with a goat and was running to tell mum, stood Albus Dumbledore himself.

"Studying hard, Harry?"

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My first attempt at Fanfiction. This story will not be Slash though it may have a minor slash paring off to the side somewhere. Please review on writing style especially. Not much content to review thus far.