A Relative Challenge

Chp1: Boredom, Drills and Mr. Snapping

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Five bloody weeks. Thirty-five days. Eight hundred seventy-five hours of sheer boredom, hunger and nursing wounds. Harry sighed to himself as he scratched a line across four others etched into the wall near his bed. His only way of keeping hope in the dreaded Dursley home.

Harry closed his eyes. Remembering Hogwarts, the classes, having fun with Ron and Hermione, the Tri Wizard Tournament . . . Harry's eyes snapped open. The Tournament. Decidedly unhappy memories resurfaced. The last challenge with the Port-Key and where the Key had taken him, to Voldemort where Cedric . . . The memories still weighed heavily in Harry's mind. Harry laughed at himself. After that year Harry had actually thought of wanting to come back to number four Privet Drive. To retreat back into his cupboard under the stairs and wake up from the nightmare that his life had turned into. But, Harry remembered, Uncle Vernon hadn't been too enthused to see the teen standing on his front doorstep in June.

"So, the freak is still alive. Haven't turned yourself into a toad yet, have you?" Harry could still remember the way his uncle laughed following that comment. A low, annoyed chuckle that praised its owner for his insurmountable wit.

"No, Uncle. But I did see one in Potions class that looked exactly like you." Harry said, or rather mentally commented wishing he really would say those words. He couldn't help but smirk a little at the sudden image of Professor Snape using Vernon the Toad for an example of the proper uses of the wart removal potion.

"No, Uncle, haven't managed that yet but I did accomplish turning a hedgehog into a pin-cushion."

Unfortunately for Harry the statement didn't settle well with the tubby man. Uncle Vernon puffed up suddenly, red filling his enormous face, and snagging the hem of Harry's shirt collar dragged him inside. "There will be /no/ talk of-of freak stuff in my house! You and your kind think yourselves superior to us with your wand waving and hocus-pocus mumbo-jumbo. Probably thinking of turning me into a warty toad yourself! I'll have none of it, and it looks like I'm still the one to get that /freak/ streak out of you."

Harry had to give his uncle some credit. He /had/ been thinking it, but right now Harry's thoughts weren't at the inevitable punishment for having a 'freak streak,' but at the fact Hedwig, along with his school trunk, was being left outside.

Some ways though, Harry had started to agree with his uncle that he was a freak. A person who killed those around him, his mother, Cedric . . . who would be next? Ron? Hermione? Then at that moment when Uncle Vernon's hand smacked across his face with enough force to knock Harry to the floor, and the fat foot that made contact with his stomach, Harry wished for nothing more than to return to Hogwarts.

Presently, the piece of wall with the tick marks counting down the days of summer was being bored into by Harry's stare. Unconsciously he cradled his arm against his chest. He was sure it had been fractured somewhere during those first few blows of Vernon's meaty fist. It still hurt to put pressure on it. Another sigh came and he rolled over on the small bed to stare out the window. More appropriately put, the thick iron bars and wire screen.

"Well, Harry. Let's see if you're going to survive this summer."

He smiled when he saw Hedwig scratching the protective screen. She held a rolled up parchment on her leg, which was always a good thing. Harry knew at least he had something to do for five minutes free from his boredom. Quickly releasing a few places on the bottom of the wire mesh the screen promptly came free and allowed the snowy owl to land on the sill and receive a thank-you petting from her master. Harry had immediately found a way to allow Hedwig to take and bring post, if he hadn't he surely would be stark mad by now from nothing to do.

The letter was from Ron, Harry saw thankfully. Always an entertaining read when Ron wrote to him.

Dear Harry,

Hope your surviving the holidays. Fred and George wanted me to tell you that if you needed them to come by and remove anymore bars, they found an old bike they could charm. But that isn't the reason why I'm really writing. Percy actually came back from work last night, which is a good enough reason for alarm. He sleeps there most nights! Anyway, he was mumbling something about You-Know-Who killing some Muggles in another country. He wouldn't tell us exactly, saying it was 'Ministry work' and 'confidential' but then Dad came home and told us something really was going on with You-Know-Who. Said that there had been several attacks on Muggles recently and they were getting bigger each time. The latest was close to where you are and it was an official of the Ministry! Mum wanted to bring you here immediately but Dad told her the wards around your house would keep you safe. We were all relieved to hear that but then an urgent owl came for Dad. You wouldn't believe who it was from! Dumbledore! Be careful Harry. Dad didn't look too happy after reading the letter and left immediately. Write back.

~Ron

Harry read the letter through one more time. Then again to make sure he had read it right. Dumbledore sending Ron's dad an urgent owl? An official of the Ministry killed near Privet Drive? He was very thankful suddenly for the wards. Voldemort was coming after him. He knew it and so did Ron by the sound of the letter.

A brief thought crossed Harry's mind. "I wonder if Snape was there . . ."

Harry sighed. At least he had something to think about now. Why would Voldemort be killing Muggles from other countries?

~*!*!*!*!*!*!*~

Vernon Dursley smiled. He had a big potential buyer meeting with him today. If he could win this man over then he could surely buy that new computer Dudley had been asking for, along with a few extras of course. Yes, today was going to be an excellent day, indeed! Time wore on and the scheduled meeting finally arrived. Vernon fixed his best 'no-I'm-/not/-cheating-you-smile' he knew onto his face and welcomed the client in.

Vernon shook hands, as making contact such has hand shaking was the first rule in salesmanship, and quickly noted the sallow coloration and thin boned hand of the man. A quick inspection of the vict- er /client/, the second rule in the field as it allowed one to see how fully they could reel someone in, proved to give Vernon an upset stomach. The man was tall, much taller than the fat Dursley, his eyes were dark, almost black Vernon noted, framed by shoulder length black, greasy Vernon also mentally registered, hair and the same sallow color skin. "Probably hasn't washed his hair in a month!" Vernon thought to himself but immediately brought his attention back to the task of selling drills. One should not day dream in a deal for they may find themselves the swindled instead of the swindler. The third rule of salesmanship.

"Good day Mr. Snapping! Hope you are doing well?" Vernon blinked a few times when all he received was a silent, sharp nod. "Eh, Have a seat won't you? Would you like anything to drink? Tea perhaps?"

Mr. Snapping simply stared back at him. "As I understand Mr. Dursley, I am here to discuss /drills/ not have some tea party."

Vernon blinked again at the icy tone in Snapping's voice. It sent strange shivers down his spine and the man's stare caused Vernon's skin to crawl. Those black eyes were seemingly piercing right through him. Rule number three! Rule number three! Vernon you git, remember rule three.

"Well?" Snapped the now annoyed Snapping.

The simple question caused Vernon to promptly sit in his chair and twiddle his thumbs on the desk surface. "Right, then." He stole another glance at the bored looking man across from him and quickly looked away as a glare formed on the sallow face. "Drills."

"That would be why I am here, is it not? Or do you want to play dress up and drink tea all day?"

Vernon ruffled at this. How dare this man! No one cuts down Vernon Dursley and gets away with it. "I have you know-" He started, rising out of his chair a bellow starting to form in his throat.

He didn't finish his sentence however as Mr. Snapping muttered a few unintelligible words and brandished a stick from his pocket. "And I'll have you know Muggle, you are now fully under my control."