Disclaimer: I would cry if you sued me for claiming this was mine, just becasue I've dreamt the same thing for years... to no avail! So you and your lawyer can fuck off!

Thanks for the beta from: taylor-leighyoung. You rock!

-Chapter Two: Narrow Aversion from St. Mungos-

When Harry finally regained consciousness, his mind was devoid of all things. He couldn't remember where he was, or what happened, or even his own name.

He did, however, register the fist that was pounding on his door. The word 'door' floated through his mind and he recovered all memory, but still didn't understand why he felt warm, safe, and all around happy feelings. Oh well, he thought, the Dursleys are here. Wonder what they want.

Vaguely, he heard someone groan, but did not put it above pacifying his uncle.

The floor was shaking at the force of a four-hundred pound walrus throwing itself against the door and Harry couldn't seem to understand why the man just refused to open the door like normal people.

Waving his hand in a dismissive manner toward the door, Harry started when he realized that he could only move his arm partially. Opening his eyes and squinting at the blinding light that streamed directly into his eyes, he came to the conclusion of why he couldn't move his arms, and, now that he checked, legs: another body was wrapped tightly around his own.

The arm wrapped around his torso was pale, with light blonde hair and small freckles, and the hand possessed elegant fingers and nails that were obviously once-manicured but now slightly too long and chipped.

So now, he had to figure out the happy feelings, his captor, and, why, exactly, his uncle was still throwing himself against the door.

He attempted to wave his hand at the door again after prying one of the hands clamped around his own and was incredibly surprised when he heard a small click of the door. His eyes widened marginally when he realized the crash that was, no doubt, about to ensue.

Sure enough, five seconds later, the door blew in and the room shook with the combined weight of Dudley and Vernon tumbling to the floor, taking up most of the room in Harry's small, dingy living quarters.

There were several things that happened at that moment.

First, Harry jumped up, defying the appendage that had him chained to someone, and fell over the pile of hideous bodies on the floor.

Then, Severus woke up, brandished his wand at the door, but was dumbstruck when there was no one there. He did, however, spot the slivers of wood sticking out of the frame and the bent hinges. Looking down, he saw a pile of bodies, though he mostly saw fat and a small-ish black-looking lump on top. He growled when he realized that it was Potter, spoiled little Potter.

Thirdly, Draco bolted up and out of the bed without giving a thought to how he was fine, and, he too, tripped over the growing pile of bodies.

Severus sighed, and ran his hand over his face tiredly. Barking out an order like he had been trained to, he calmly spoke, "Draco, would you please get up off of the filthy muggles?"

In turn, Draco grumbled and asked, "Harry, why are you on the filthy excuse for relatives muggles?"

He got a grumble and, "Draco, what are you doing on me?" in return.

Funnily enough, Draco blushed before getting up and sneering at the blubbery forms of his friend's uncle and cousin on the floor.

To complete the volley of unanswered questions, Harry sent another, this time to the Dursleys. "And what are you doing laying there on my floor?"

After Dudley had waddled off of Uncle Vernon, he flashed a pathetic sneer at the three wizards in the room before pounding out the door.


It was a single word spoken with such loathing that even Severus 'Most-Feared-Professor-Ever' Snape almost shivered.

"What did I tell you about bringing your freaky little friends into our house!" Vernon bellowed, whilst paying absolutely no heed to the others, with the veins to the right of his forehead and neck throbbing.

"And what did I tell you about my birthday, uncle Vernon? I do believe that it is today," he spoke nonchalantly and chidingly, while tapping his wand to his cheek thoughtfully.

Vernon paled and the vein throbbed harder.

Severus had, once again, give the boy credit for keeping his temper and replying with at least some level of wit. If this was a normal occurrence for the boy, then he had to wonder about his temper at school.

Silently, the grotesquely obese man stomped out the doorway, but did not bother closing it, partially because the furnishing normally in said place was in pieces on the ground.

Harry, once again, waved his hand towards the minced wood on the floor in an attempt to repair it to a somewhat more usable status. The pieces struggled to find one another, and finally, the three wizards were left with a whole door. Now the problem was putting it back on its hinges. Sighing at the complexity of even the simplified things of magic, Harry plopped back down onto his bed and looked around at the other occupants of the room. Snape looked like always, dark and dreary, but more tired, and Draco looked… well, he looked a hell of a lot better than he had the night before. He supposed that was because he had tried out one of the more powerful healing spells he had read about just prior to their arrival; it took a lot out of him, too, but not enough to make him in that much pain.

There was something not right there.

Oh well, he would figure it out later.

When he wracked his memory for the reason for his guests being at his house – ironic, isn't it? – he came up with nothing.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, Draco, but why, exactly, are you two here?"

Draco looked guiltily at the ground, as he knew his godfather was reliving the traumatic experience of the rapid decline of his health, and pondered how to tell his friend the obvious.

"Surely you remember the state I was in last night?"


"Did you think I was dying? Then, for your information I was dying, Harry."


"My dying wish was to see you."

Harry probably would have broken down and cried at the sweetness of the situation had he not feared that might make him sound and look like a sap. Besides, Snape was there. How embarrassing would that be?

Instead, he silently engulfed his friend in a hug.

Severus, however, was thinking of other things. Like, why had the Potter boy screamed last night? What was happening? Why was Draco miraculously healed? And, finally, where the hell did Potter's sense of style come from?

Draco, too, seemed to just now notice Harry's new attire, and took a minute to compare it to that of little 14 year old Harry Potter.

At the moment, he was wearing a pair of extremely baggy black shorts (though these were meant to be worn this way, and were not oversized whale pants, think Dickies) and a well fitting blue t-shirt, along with the ever unimportant pair or black socks on his feet. His hair was shoulder length now, and was ruffled from sleeping on it. As compared to previous summers, his skin was pale, the product of an increase of studying, thus decrease of exposure to sunlight.

Lowly whistling once he was done with his analysis, Draco laughed and told him, "You look good, mate!"

Though he was incredibly loath to admit it, Severus had to agree too.

Harry perked up at this, and remembered that he was home free today.

In an insane and entirely spontaneous rush of exhilaration, Harry grabbed both Draco and Severus' hands and dragged them in a victory dance around the room, singing, "I'm free! Free, free, free!"

Harry and Draco were fully roaring with laughter by this time, and even Snape had to fight to keep the smile off his face. He settled for a disgruntled frown at the indignity of performing a victory dance.

Testing his new power out, though he had learned that he'd possessed relative skill at mild wandless magic around fifth year, Harry swept his arm across the room to see if his stuff would pack.

He officially felt like an idiot when all of his stuff collected on top of his trunk instead of inside of it because it was chock full.

While Harry saw his mistake as a failure, Severus saw it for what it was: a display of power. From what he'd seen of the boy in Defense Against the Dark Arts last year, the boy was horrible at nonverbal spells, much less wandless and nonverbal. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Potter calculatingly. Had the boy been purposefully failing to do it right and had slipped up just now? Severus knew that this would but him unerringly until he found it.

Meanwhile, in places very different from the ex-professor's thoughts, namely the room they were physically in, Harry dragged his trunk from under the barrage of clothes he had created, opened it, and set about deciding whether to expand it inside or shrink his stuff. Reaching a decision that, since he might lose everything if he shrank it, he would put his belongings – books, clothes, CDs (though most of them wouldn't work in areas with a highly concentrated magic, supposedly), and various other crap in his enlarged trunk before shrinking it again to its normal size, and, if necessary, even smaller for traveling. He growled and muttered unintelligibly under his breath when he realized that he still had to change his clothes and shower, meaning he would have to unpack then repack everything again.

During the time Harry and Severus were thinking, Draco took the time to examine the room – though now door-less– that they, more or less, inhabited. It was small and bare for the most part, and the bed didn't even look like it was long enough to sleep in. The rickety desk in the corner was just that – rickety and held up by picture books that made the legs even. Fastened where the hinges should be with duct tape, the wardrobe wasn't in any better shape. Thin, torn black curtains covered the windows, but did a poor job, as the tears and nearly sheer fabric were not very helpful in the least. The walls were painted a tacky cream color, and there were parts where the plaster was peeling away. He honestly didn't understand how his friend survived even the horrid décor! Of course, he knew of Harry's traumatic childhood, but to see at least one of the places he'd lived was horrifying.

The Dursleys honestly did not give a flying fuck, which enraged him. Harry was, without a doubt, one of the best people he'd ever had the privilege of meeting.

Sighing, he turned back to two of the people he held closest to his heart just in time to see Harry collect clothes and head for the door frame.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Harry looked him like an idiot before holding up his clothes and simply asserted, "Shower."

Draco flushed out of embarrassment of his own idiocy.

Grinning slightly, Harry walked across the hall and into the bathroom before backing up dramatically.

It appeared Dudley had not yet recovered from his first experience of magic as a preteen, if he ever would. In fact, if Harry hadn't known better, though he was still slightly suspicious, he would have said that Dudley had (literally) been scared shitless.

That was a horrible thought, with an equally horrible stench.

He continued backing up until he fell back into the arms of Draco, who'd remained standing near the doorway.

Needless to say, the blonde was surprised.

"Ugh, that's horrible!"

"What, Mr. Potter, is so foul that it is necessary to walk backwards?" Snape asked in a bitingly.

"My cousin!" Harry gasped, obviously (and understandably) disturbed by the turn of events.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, that's not at all polite to your cousin," But, admittedly, true, Severus added silently.

"Nor is it all that polite to scare young first years to death on their first Potions Lesson!" Harry shot at him, reminded of bitter memories.

"Mr. Potter! I believe you are out of order!"

Obviously, Harry had lost the self-control he'd developed for a moment.

"What are you going to do, Snivellus, take points from Gryffindor? Unless you haven't noticed yet, we're not in school and there's something bigger going on!"

Within seconds, the Potions Master had his wand at the boy's throat, but Harry didn't even bat an eyelash. An extremely painful curse was on the tip of Severus' tongue.

Up until this point, Draco had watched amusedly at the encounter but now, the aggression was just too high and he could see that something had to be done before a trip to St. Mungo's would be necessary.

Silently he reached out his hand to grab Harry's shoulder where it was just a few inches in front of him. He leaned forward and whispered soothing things in his ear that he hoped would help in calming the boy down.

"Harry, you can shower later or use cleaning charms."

Glaring at Severus one last time for good measure, Harry retrieved his wand, and quickly cast a "Scourgrify."

He stripped off his shirt, regardless of who was in there, and replaced it with a tight gray t-shirt. His pants were exchanged with another pair of baggy slack-like shorts, while he slipped a pair of Converse hi-tops onto his feet.

Turning around, he bent down and retrieved a brush from the pile of crap he'd unloaded from his trunk and hurriedly ran it through his hair. Draco was amazed that he didn't run into any knots.

The clothes were banished back into the trunk, and he waved his hand over it once again. The other two (one masking with difficulty his admiration) watched in awe as the clothes folded themselves neatly again and piled themselves into the trunk.

Harry shrunk the trunk once more and grabbed a handle, lugging it out the door on his own.

Severus was a little bit scared of the silence.

For the first time in minutes, the 'incompetent idiot' as Severus referred to him, turned to the Potions' Master and stated shortly that he should wait behind with Draco for a moment.

A frown occupied his face, and an argument threatened to escape his throat, but finally Severus resigned with a grudging nod.

Draco and Severus watched as he entered the kitchen and had a few pleasant 'words' with his relatives.

"Vernon, Petunia - I am here to inform you that I am leaving. This is the last time you will see me… if we're both lucky. Goodbye."

"Don't you take that tone of voice with me, boy!"

Harry shook his head and "tsked" a bit. "Uncle, uncle, uncle… what did I tell you about today? I'll have you know that it's a very special day. Petunia, do you know why?" he said with a smirk so pronounced it was audible from where Draco and Severus were standing.

His aunt Petunia's voice shook when she replied with, "Y-yes. You can do magic now."

"Oh! You remembered! And here I was thinking you never cared that much!" Harry retorted sarcastically. "I thought I'd have to jog your memory a bit."

"In that case, get your- your- you- get out of my house!"

"It'd be my pleasure."

With that, Harry turned and nodded towards his companions who stared open mouthed at him.

He picked up his trunk and dragged it out the door, motioning for the others to follow.

Smiling to himself as he felt the rush of the wards as he walked past Magnolia Crescent and remembered the first time he'd seen Sirius, allowing a sad smile to appear on his face.

Then, he took a moment to think to himself:

I'm free.

Sorry if I offended any of you at the end of last chapter. I just moved to a school where everyone calls everyone bitches, whether they're a guy or girl, or whether they mean it or not.

Yep. Wow, this chapter was like one long scene!

Three Nil, by Slipknot. You should really look it up. It fits Harry to a tee! I've been itching to put that in here all... the last two weeks, so just humor me, please.

Review, make me happy.