A/N: Aakjfajaafa OF COURSE YOU GUYS ARE STILL MY FRIENDS. How could you be anything but? I've been so overwhelmed by all of the love and the beautiful, encouraging reviews. I am absolutely blown away.

Harry's house has not been planned. There's a good chance he will stay Gryffindor to connect with his family and to let me explore how a more dedicated to research and experimentation Harry would interact with Gryffs and others a like. That said, I am, as always, open to being convinced otherwise. Harry really can fit into any House, and I'm not opposed to placing him elsewhere.

Slytherin would mean exploring more wizarding culture and the Old Ways (because I'm a sucker for that in stories). Along with learning not to judge people by stereotypes very early on, etc. Hufflepuff would focus more on teamwork and Harry building a cross houses network to take over the world. (I'm joking. A little.) Ravenclaw... I'm not sure what I would do with that. It's not required to befriend or protect Luna, she's already on his radar, and if he cares to solve riddles he could do that anyway. So the common room is still accessible.

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"So according to this," Harry heaved the most recent copy of Hogwarts, a History onto the table. "We have two more years. Hogwarts acts like a secondary school."

Dudley squinted at the book, then clearly decided to take Harry's word for it. The boy wasn't at all unintelligent, but he still definitely preferred having Harry read to him. Particularly with small print and hundreds of pages. The diagrams, at least, might be interesting.

"Two years to get ready then," Dudley nodded. "We can figure out what Piers and Linda and I can do too. If there is anything."

Maybe there wouldn't be, but neither of the boys was going to discount it. If football had taught them anything, it was the importance of approaching and defending goals as a team.

"Right," Harry nodded sharply. "Where should we start?"

Both boys stared at the pile of books they'd acquired for a little longer. "You can look through Fear No Fowl," Harry answered slowly. He would definitely want to look at it himself, but that was the most interesting book with the best pictures. "I'll skim I Did Not Stop For Death. We've known the guy who killed my parents is going to be a problem, but we don't know enough about what he and his followers are capable of doing. I don't want to bring a sword to a gunfight."

Dudley smiled at the Indiana Jones' reference as much as he did at Harry's decision, and the two sat companionably, back to back, flipping through pages until Petunia declared it was bed time.

Harry didn't understand as much as he would have liked from the book he chose. He understood well enough that dark curses were used, that there was a bone breaking curse, a curse that could explode an eyeball, and all sorts of other horrifying things.

It was little surprise that neither Harry nor Dudley slept particularly well that night. Or the fact that they promptly decided to switch their focus a bit. Petunia insisted they keep to their normal schedule, which definitely helped.

The herbology book, the boys discovered, wasn't just about the kind of gardening they were accustomed to. There was more to it than just fertilizer and weeding. Magical plants had personalities. Which was both absolutely wicked and a little creepy. Some of the plants were more dangerous than creatures! But, as Dudley reminded Harry, none of them seemed capable of chasing after you.

The rest of their summer passed in a blur. Uncle Remus helped both boys practice wand movements, even if Dudley mostly just used his twigs as faux swords to try and trip Harry up. Harry alternately found that hilarious and irritating, but Dud has a point that with a real spell, he'd need to be able to concentrate despite whatever else was going on. Uncle Remus also helped Harry figure out Arithmancy a bit better. The study guide used wizarding terms for formulas and equations, sometimes they lined up with the muggle terms and explanations but not always.

Uncle Peter didn't like talking too much about spells, as it turned out. He would talk about magical creatures, what wizarding homes were like, and answer cultural questions at great length, but he avoided ever showing them spells. It was the cagiest either boy could remember Peter ever being, but they eventually supposed the hand their uncle lost must have been his wand hand.

Adults could be really silly.

When school rolled around again, the boys had the joy of explaining to Linda and Piers what they could about their trip to Diagon Alley. They'd never explicitly had to be told not to share the truth about magic, that really did not need saying in the Dursley household. At the same time, Piers and Linda had been with them long enough both boys thought they might have a pretty good idea all on their own.

Plausible deniability was a wonderful thing, even if they didn't actually know the proper term for it yet.

What they did explain was that they had learned more about the culture Harry's dad was from, and that Harry was still trying to learn as much as he could about it, because he'd be going to his parent's alma mater for secondary.

All four swore up and down to keep in touch via post. Uncle Peter had promised there was a go between office between wizarding and muggle mail. Harry really wanted to stay in better touch with Dud, but when he'd asked Uncle Remus about any more instant forms of communication, his uncle had grown terribly pale and muttered something about 'Black' and 'mirrors'.

None of his family liked to talk about Sirius Black. When they did, it was always with a great deal of disdain (from their parents) to self recriminations (from their uncles). Harry had gathered that Sirius Black had been trusted, was even supposed to be his godfather, but that it was his fault Voldemort had found and killed his parents.

That knowledge burned him up. He could have been with his parents if it weren't for Black. But then, as Uncle Peter had pointed out one night when the man had heard his charge seething, he might never have had this relationship with Dudley, with his adoptive parents in Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Life would be different, yes. And Uncle Peter told him gently there was nothing wrong in missing his parents or wishing they were still alive, he did too! But dwelling on the past would do him no favors.

Harry spent that school year with his nose closer to his books than ever. Maths would help him loads in arithmancy. Science had already helped him finally complete the transfiguration Uncle Vernon had mentioned so very long ago, even if he had been exhausted for ages afterwards. Dudley later swore up and down for him that the cup in question had broken, because Harry hadn't been able to turn the toad back into a teacup afterwards.

If their teachers noticed and appreciated the slight decrease in pranks that year, no one said anything. The four didn't stop spending time together just for fun, but there was only so much time and energy to go around.

Things got really interesting around the winter holidays. Uncle Peter took Harry and Dudley to Godric's Hollow that year for Yule. It was a mixed community, and their uncle had insisted it would give the boys a better idea of what wizarding culture looked like. It also allowed Harry the chance to visit his parents' graves.

He'd been before, but this time was special. This time, Aunt Petunia and Dudley came with him.

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Harry and Dudley divvied up their presents as usual, but this year, Aunt Petunia decided both boys were old enough to write their own thank you notes. Harry understood the principle, but it left him with a truly obnoxious amount of letters to write, in his opinion. And no amount of 'but Mummmm' got him out of it.

Petunia had pursed her lips and asked if Harry wanted to seem ungrateful to all of the people who gave him gifts, leading to a very contrite young boy.

Writing on parchment with a quill was messy, even with his practice with fountain pens. All the letters did give him an excuse to write to Luna, though. He and Dudley had talked about it, both finding the girl rather strange. But, as they had agreed, the entire wizarding world seemed strange. Luna's mother was a spell mistress, which sounded fascinating. Harry hoped that meant Luna might be able to explain how utterly strange some of the household charms he'd read about were.

That book had actually led to quite the discussion in the Dursley household. Harry didn't understand why there were so many spells to do tiny little things. Why one spell to wash dishes, another to dry, a completely different one to automate washing, separate spells again for clothes. No one in the family really had an answer at the time. Petunia didn't think much of the ability of wizards and witches to think logically.

If anyone could explain it, Harry thought, it would be someone who created spells. Right?

Come Christmas proper, they received the best gift yet. Uncle Remus had allowed Harry to select a small number of potions ingredients. He already had access to some, not all plants used were inherently magical after all, but the chance to actually attempt to brew was a marvelous one. Potions made more sense than spells. So far, Harry hadn't found duplicates with the same or even similar effect.

Uncle Remus did, however, insist on restricting access to an actual cauldron to his house. Probably because Uncle Vernon was still very uneasy about the whole thing, and even Aunt Petunia got a funny look in her eyes sometimes about magic.

Harry didn't care.

As it turned out, the boys had perfected the art of wheedling things out of Uncle Peter when he babysat them ages ago. He had agreed that there was, technically, nothing wrong with attempting to brew a simple potion on a stovetop. It would be dangerous with more complicated potions, where the thickness of the cauldron and type of stir rod and everything else truly mattered. Vitamix was an incredibly forgiving potion, however. Timing and precision with stirring was what mattered primarily, and it wasn't as if they didn't have a set of copper pots.

Dudley had grabbed a pot of his own, mimicking Harry's movements with plenty of commentary as he did so. Dud had adopted a posh accent as he read out the instructions, complete with dramatic flourishes. It made for a very entertaining evening. Uncle Peter was even laughing by the end of it, even though he had half heartedly tried to remind the boys potion making required concentration.

Somehow that led to Peter telling them stories of Hogwarts, and by the end of it all, both boys found themselves staring at the same Gatorade blue colored mixture.

"What went wrong?" Harry stared earnestly from his attempted potion to his uncle. A very puzzled uncle who seemed just as wrong footed as the boys were.

"You didn't."

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For the record, I don't recall any time in the books themselves where it was indicated wands were actually required for potion brewing. Also, for some reason I have never understood, I've seen Petunia referred to multiple times as a Squib, rather than a muggle, and that it was Vernon's Extreme Muggleness that ruined Dudley's chance of being a wizard (or even a squib, whatever that even means in this context, honestly). I choose to believe that Squibs can brew and tend magical plants and creatures, just as I choose to believe that vows are magically binding. It may not fit with Pottermore canon, but I'm going to cheerfully ignore that because Petunia and Dudley being able to brew and use potions may come in handy later on.

Besides, I always thought Snape was so good at potions because you could practice them over the summer/in muggle homes without setting off the Trace.

TL;DR: My rules for potions in this story only follow Pottermore when convenient, and I am not sorry.

Fun fact, Vitamix's ingredients? Wormwood, asphodel root, and monkshood. It's listed as a beginner level potion.