I apologize for the length of time it's been since I've last updated – but hey, I've finally condensed the last couple chappies into entries of proper lengths; and no matter how long it takes, I swear that I willfinish this story!

As per usual, I still own nothing! It all belongs to J.K.R J

And many thanks to skyesmommy for getting me off my butt and pushing me to keep writing!

And a very Merry Christmas to everyone!

Chapter 6

Harry stuck his hands into his new jean pockets as he walked down the road back towards number 4 Privet Drive, as prepared as he'd ever be to face the music.

He'd spent an altogether rather draining afternoon with Hermione, both emotionally and physically as their eleven year old bodies were sadly out of shape compared to the battle toned figures they'd worked so hard to attain during the war. Those were going to be fun to get back… Harry sighed; they certainly wouldn't be lacking in projects.

He recalled how kind and welcoming 'Mione's parents had been when they'd returned late that afternoon; how grateful they were to him for explaining to Hermione some of the aspects of wizarding culture, and how excited her mother was at the prospect of Hermione having finally made a friend. A brief flash of guilt flitted across his conscience, but it was quickly soothed when he thought of all the pain they'd be preventing. They'd explain everything in the long run, especially since they were practically his family as well – but they just weren't ready to hear that their 11-year-old daughter was actually engaged and 23 from the future in an alternate dimension, and had travelled back in time to be the savior of the people.

He just couldn't imagine that going down very well.

Still lost in thought, a small smile on his features as he envisioned the likely facial expressions of the elder Grangers when they explained things to them, and Hermione's thrilled smile when he'd slipped that ring on her finger, he barely noticed as his feet turned down the driveway out of sheer habit.

He did, however, notice when he walked right into a large, warm lump of something that sent him backwards onto his rump.

"Oh, sorry Harry!" Dudley exclaimed, hovering uncertainly in front of him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before sending a quick glance to the quiet house before stretching out a hand to help him up.

Harry blinked. Things were certainly shaping out differently with Dudley this time around.

"No problem Big D," he responded with a grin, grabbing the offered hand to help heave his weary body up off the pavement.

"Big D?" Dudley repeated slowly, as if tasting the nickname. Harry closed his eyes, quietly cursing himself for having let old future habits take over – but Dudley was smiling.

"Big D! I like that. Thanks Harry!"

Deciding to test still uncertain waters, Harry asked, "better than Diddykinns at least?"

Dudley looked at Harry oddly, head tilted to one side in careful consideration. "Oh hell yeah."

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!" It was Vernon, bellowing purple faced from the doorstep as he took in the sight of his son and the Freak laughing together in the driveway.

The laughter immediately subsided, and Dudley closed his eyes and sighed.

"CUPBOARD! Get to your cupboard RIGHT NOW Freak! You have no right to just disappear all day, leaving your poor aunt with all the work! Cupboard, RIGHT NOW before I decided to teach you just how much I hate you right now!"

Harry couldn't help his shoulders sagging slightly under the poisonous tone of his uncle's venomous words. He knew he shouldn't care, but it still hurt.

But he had a message to send home, and he squared his shoulders, turning slightly in order to face his uncle full on.

"Nope."

He made sure to pop the p.

Vernon's face turned a lovely puce color, and Harry was softly counting down the seconds until the outburst came. Dudley had one hand clamped firmly over his mouth when Harry's quiet, "and… zero." coincided precisely with Vernon's outburst of, "Now you listen here FREAK - "

That was as far as he got before Harry lazily waved his hand, wandlessly silencing his Uncle mind sentence. Then hovering his massive bulk, he moved his uncle back into the house, plopping him down in the sitting room. Petunia burst in and began to shriek in her high-pitched shrills, but surprising it was Dudley who burst out, "Oh be quiet!" that silenced her speechless before Harry even got the chance.

Sending a grateful smile his cousins' way, Harry turned towards his mute guardians.

"Alright. Now I am going to make this very clear. I am not a Freak, I am a wizard."

Vernon and Petunia both flinched violently, and Dudley merely looked confused by their reactions.

Harry's patience finally burst, years of pain and neglect surfacing to the forefront of his mind. "MAGIC! Magic, magic, wizard, magic, wizard, MAGIC!"

That apparently proved to be too much for the poor couple, as their eyes rolled back and they slumped once again into unconsciousness.

Closing his eyes, Harry growled softly in frustration. For three seconds, an eerie silence permeated the room, only to be broken by three simultaneous exclamations of, "Seriously?!"

Wait… Three?

Dudley stiffened, glancing around the room in search of the source of the two other voices, which continued muttering angrily and cursing in such colorful language that it would probably have made Mad-eye Moody blush.

He decided that since Harry didn't really look very concerned, he probably knew what was going on perhaps would explain it.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" The shriek Dudley now identified as coming… from Harry's pocket?

"YOU LET ME AT HER RIGHT NOW! YOU HEAR ME YOUNG MAN! RIGHT NOW!"

Harry winced slightly, turning to Dudley and mouthing 'sorry bout this' before pulling out a moving painting. Dudley was instantly fascinated. The dark mahogany wooden frame stretched nearly a meter and a half wide when Harry placed his hand on it, and two very angry people stood scowling inside it.

The woman had violently red hair and stunning green eyes, while the man looked eerily familiar. Ah. Harry. The man looked like Harry, with hazel eyes.

"Erm, Harry?" Dudley ventured timidly, unsure if it would direct the wrath of the picture things towards himself by doing so.

"Sorry Big D, where are my manners? Meet my parents."

Dudley stared for a second; trying to wrap his brain around this new development as the figure's angry eyes turned to assess him.

"Erm, your … real parents? I mean, dea… err…"

Lily's eyes softened slightly at the sight of the nervous young man, "Yes dear. His dead parents – though only a part of us preserved in a portrait. It's a bit complicated."

Dudley's eyes were large. "But… how?"

Harry chuckled. "Stay with us Big D."

Dudley blinked, mentally pushing 'living portrait of Harry's long dead parents that moves and talks' into the 'don't question or think about too much' category.

He shrugged, then remembered the manners his mother had made him use when his father had guests. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Dudley." He stuck out his hand to shake before remembering he was talking to a portrait, and flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh hush you." Lily scolded, as James was bent almost double with laughter. "I'm Lily Potter, Harry's mother."

"And I'm James. His dad. It's a pleasure to meet you, distantly related muggle."

"James!" Lily scolded, with laughter in her voice.

Dudley glanced at Harry, "Muggle?"

"Non-magic person."

Oh. "Right."

"Now, Harry dear, evenarate your dearest Aunt so that we can have a sisterly chat that's long overdue…"

Part of Dudley felt a little sorry for his mom upon seeing the look in his… (Aunt's?) eye, and yet another part of this was demanding that he just had to stay and watch this unfold.