Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter related. That all belongs to J.K. Rowling. But enjoy anyway.

Chapter 1: The Argument

With the fan crackling softly in a small, messy room, a boy with untidy black hair looked through a dusty window with his bright green eyes. He wore a sour expression, one that was of sorrow and sadness. He looked down at the garden below being weeded out by his Aunt Petunia under the gold lettering of Number 4, Privet Drive. Pursing her lips as she pulled out every root, Harry Potter stared at her with a lack of focus.

He was sad, lonely and suffering a loss. It had been only a month when he watched his godfather get murdered in front of his eyes. Harry felt a tear coming on as he thought of this. Lying back in his bed he closed his eyes, as the cool air tried to cool off his boiling room, and Harry felt torn in two.

Looking at his dresser Harry saw Sirius's pocketknife he had given him and the two-way mirror Harry stupidly had never used. He picked them up aiming to drop them in the trash but stopped and placed them back on the drawer. No he wouldn't get rid of them. That would be like getting rid Sirius. He placed the pocketknife (missing the blade) down and carefully put the broken mirror down too. That would have been a better way to see if Sirius was alright, Harry told himself looking at his shattered reflection in the mirror, But no I didn't think and look what it cost me..? His life . . . Harry wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He believed more and more everyday that he had killed Sirius. In his dreams Voldemort laughed at Harry as he cried and said he caused Sirius's death. No matter what Dumbledore had told him last June . . . he wasn't believing it anymore . . . he, Harry, believed that he had killed Sirius.

And Sirius was his only living family member. Well maybe he should rephrase that. Sirius was his only living family member who cared for him. And technically he wasn't even related to him. The Dursleys could care less if he was depressed or not but Harry was starting notice them picking on him less. Perhaps it was that the Order mailed in to check on Harry every three days and said they'd have a 'look see' on Harry if he did not respond. Or was it the fact that the last letter had been mailed not by a barn owl, but with a small griffin like creature with a threatening note from Moody attached to it because Harry had not responded in three days. Or maybe simply, the Dursleys were actually feeling a bit sorry for Harry. Harry knew Dudley was suffering from his mood.

Not because he felt bad that Harry had lost his godfather, oh no. But at the fact that Aunt Petunia went soft on Harry the other day and assigned Dudley Harry's chores. Harry was not sure why Aunt Petunia went easy on him but Dudley was furious. Dudley hated chores and he made sure Harry knew this. He banged on his walls when Harry was trying to sleep (but Harry wouldn't sleep or he would dream of Sirius) and threw silverware at him at dinner (though Harry hadn't eaten in three days) and scream at Harry when Harry wanted quiet (but Harry could careless) and to Dudley' s dissatisfaction, this did not affect Harry. He could care less. The spot in his heart for Sirius was empty . . .

But as the hot summer's afternoon rolled on Harry heard the doorbell ring. He rolled over onto his stomach. Who ever it was he didn't care.

He heard Uncle Vernon's muffled voice growing louder and louder. Perhaps it was Mrs. Figg again checking up on Harry as she did every week to make sure he was all right and alive. This always drove Uncle Vernon up the wall. He simply disliked her. He didn't like the fact that she checked up on Harry. But Harry had always told her the same story. That he was fine and would be okay. She always left saddened but smiled anyway.

Harry rolled over again onto his side. Who ever it was at the door was obviously giving Uncle Vernon a hard time because his voice grew louder. Maybe it wasn't Mrs. Figg . . . if it was; she would be shouting back by now and walking up the stairs ignoring Uncle Vernon. Harry had heard those conversations several times before. But Harry was now curious. Who could get Uncle Vernon so mad..?

With curiosity creeping over him Harry felt the urge to get up and see. If his aunt or uncle asked him what he was doing he could simply lie and say he had to go to the bathroom. They couldn't yell at him for that.

Slowly Harry opened his bedroom door and closed it. It squeaked loudly but Harry didn't think anybody would notice with Uncle Vernon's loud shouts. But Harry was wrong someone did notice. Dudley.

"Where you going..?" Dudley asked.

Harry felt a surge of hatred towards his cousin. Harry however, did not answer and proceeded in walking down the hallway. This was not the answer Dudley was looking for. He grabbed Harry by the arm.

"I asked where you were going..?" he said sharply with a fat smile splattered on his face, "Dad said you had to stay in your room."

"Let go of me you moron..!" Harry snapped pulling his arm out of Dudley's sausage fingers. His temper was rising. His loss of Sirius had mad him both sad and angry. He felt his sorrow go on hold and a new emotion flood through . . . anger.

"What did you say..?" Dudley said appalled that Harry had called him a moron.

Harry's boiling point was rising, "You heard me..!" he shouted, "I told you let go of me..!" he barked, "And . . ." Harry said with a smirk, "I called you a moron."

Dudley's face frowned with anger and became red with frustration. Harry smirked in satisfaction. Getting Dudley angry was becoming a new hobby of his, well a more extensive hobby anyway. He had always loved getting Dudley angry.

"What..?!" Dudley finally roared.

Harry knew he should stop while he was ahead but anger consumed him, "I called you a moron..! You know . . . a moron..! M-O-R-O-N..! Moron..!"

Dudley bunched his sausage like fingers into a fat fist, "How dare you call me that..!" Dudley raised his fist, "You're gonna wish you had kept your big fat—"

"I thought fat was a vocabulary word directed towards you," Harry commented still wearing a triumphant smile, "Not used by you."

"Ohhh..!" Dudley gritted his teeth at Harry.

Harry could care less. He was loving every moment of tormenting his cousin right now. To Harry, he was only giving him a taste of his own medicine to the boy who had made his younger years a living hell.

Dudley started to swing but abruptly stopped gazing wide eyed at Harry who was waving something in the air.

"You're not allowed..!" Dudley said at once using his only defense, "That freaky school will expel you..!"

Harry smiled twirling his wand in his fingers, "How do you know I'm not already expelled for what I did last term..?"

Dudley gulped in fear, "I-I j-j-just k-k-know . . ."

"You sure..?' Harry said, "Really..? Well Big D . . ."

"W-well w-w-what..?!" Dudley said quaking with fear as Harry pretended to think, "W-what a-a-are y-y-you p-p-planning..?!"

"Ohhh just planning on which curse to use on you," Harry said innocently, "How about—"


"Oh running to daddy are we..?" Harry said feeling like he had won Dudley over in fear.

Dudley ignored him a bellowed down the stairs, "DAD..! HARRY'S DOING YOU-KNOW-WHAT..!"

Harry laughed and pointed his wand at Dudley and Dudley jumped back. Harry smirked, "You know Dud . . . I'm missing that pig tail . . ."

Dudley clutched his bottom, "Y-you k-k-keep away from m-m-me..! You're not allowed . . . DAD..!"

Suddenly there was thumping coming from the stairs. With in seconds Uncle Vernon was up the stairs roaring. His face was a dark puce and his eyes bulging almost. He looked at Harry and Harry quickly tried to slip his wand away.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY SON..?!" he demanded.

"Nothing . . ." Harry said trying to sound innocent, "I was on my way to . . . to the bathroom."


"I'm not lying..!"

"DAMN TO HELL YOU ARE..!" shouted Uncle Vernon. He turned to Dudley who was still holding his bottom, "What did he do to you son..?"

"I didn't do anything..! I just—"


Harry remained silent.

Uncle Vernon snorted at him almost like an angry bull then turned to Dudley, "What did he do to you son..?"

"He threatened to give me a pig tail like that huge guy did..!" Dudley said in a tearful state of fear, "And he was about to..! You saw his wand raised..!"

"You know I wasn't going to do anything..! I was just having—"

"JUST HAVING A GO AT MY SON..!" screamed Uncle Vernon.

Harry was furious. True, he did have a go at Dudley but it wasn't like Dudley never had a go at him. Uncle Vernon acted as if Dudley was perfect and the sun revolved around him, that he could do no wrong, the perfect angel.

"YEA..!" Harry heard himself shout, "I HAD A GO AT HIM..!"

Uncle Vernon looked thunder shocked. Then a smile started to appear on his face, "So you admit it..!"



Harry heard himself laugh a bit, "That the best you can come up with..?!"

At this Harry knew he had done it. He had just insulted Dudley and Uncle Vernon. Harry knew he'd pay the price. But he felt it was worth it. He needed to blow off some of that steam that Dudley and Uncle Vernon had shoved inside him.

"YOU—! YOU GET TO YOUR ROOM NOW..!" bellowed Uncle Vernon, "NO FOOD FOR A WEEK YOU—"


Uncle Vernon was now almost a blackened red color. Harry had never seen his face so red before. If it were a cartoon, Uncle Vernon would have steam shooting out of his ears. Uncle Vernon balled up his pudgy fists and started to stomp towards Harry in all rage. Harry backed up against the wall . . . he was in trouble this time.

"Harry—?!" said a familiar voice coming form up the stairs.

Harry looked over Uncle Vernon's massive shoulders to see Remus Lupin running up the stairs and sharply coming around the corner to the hallway.

Author's Note: So what'd ya think..? Please Review.