Training in the Past: Age of the Founders

Chapter 1 - Dinner with Marge

Harry James Potter, savior of the wizarding world, was having a terrible summer. OK, it was better than some years since now he was actually being fed, but still he considered it to be one of his worst. For one, he had recently lost the only father figure he had known and he considered it to be all his fault. Another was...

"Boy! Get down here! If dinner isn't on the table at 7 o' clock sharp, you will regret it. Marge will be here in less than an hour and you better mind yourself this time!"

Harry closed the novel he had found in Dudley's second bedroom, a battered edition of Lord of the Rings, and trudged downstairs. His reflection mocked him as he passed the mirror on the staircase, polished so his every feature shone back at him. He sighed at his thin image, but at least he wasn't as dangerous skinny as before. Not even attempting to tame his wild raven locks he doubted a lion tamer would even approach, Harry entered the domain of possibly his greatest challenge since the Department of Mysteries. His assignment: a dinner with his "Auntie" Marge, plus one evil dog from hell.

A jerk on his arm brought him face to face with his uncle, or - in this case - face to chin...to chin to chin.

"None of your nonsense tonight. If there's another incident like last time..." he hissed, his chins wobbling less than usual.

That wasn't a good sign. Usually Vernon's body jiggled in a fashion similar to a lava lamp. It's restriction meant tension in the behemoth's muscles. Tension did not equal longevity for Harry. However, Harry had long ago decided not to let others control him. He had changed a lot over the last couple of weeks, letting out his inner Slytherin and trying to figure out what life really meant to him in general. So, instead of bowing his head and listening like a good boy, Harry spoke up for himself.

"She'll end up with a clean memory and not remember a word of my 'atrocious' manners. And if I do 'behave' myself, I'll get a earful about how worthless I am. Just another day in the life of your household," he sneered, jerking his arm free and heading to cook dinner.

Vernon spluttered, but could do nothing in fear he would be reported to Harry's 'freaky' friends. Besides, dinner needed to be made since Petunia was showering upstairs. The television blared to life from the living room, sounds of crashing and booming filling the kitchen with the noise from the action movie Dudley was watching. Vernon turned and left to fix up a bit.

Harry chopped, cut, baked, sliced, blended, stirred, mixed and simmered a rather well-made dinner - even by Mrs. Weasley's standards. Not that it would be noticed, if the fact he cooked it be brought to Marge's attention. He didn't care. He was used to being ignored by his 'family', and he was rapidly getting used to being ignored by everyone else.

He stirred the pasta a little harder as he thought of the silent treatment he was receiving from everyone. Dumbledore had suggested that Harry should be left alone to "grieve" and of course, nobody ever questions Dumbledore. Voldemort's influence was almost non-existent this summer. The dark wizard had only been sending him nightmares of his most recent killings ever since he learned Harry was being kept in the dark. The dreams he got from Voldemort always caused him to wake up with his stomach rolling from the deaths he was made to watch and his mind filled with the fact he could not save those people. He wished he could master Occlumency and secure his thoughts completely, but clearly it wasn't working. He would have to find out what exactly was causing the problem because he had begun to successfully clear his mind, but he still couldn't keep Voldemort out.

Sighing, Harry turned back to his work. Calm. Snape said the key was calm. How was he suppose to block his mind from invasion? Maybe after clearing your mind you had to concentrate on something calming and use that to block the intruder. He would have to try out some different methods and see what worked for him.

Tonight, he might test his theory since he had nothing better to do. The last couple of nights had been filled with self-evaluation. He had recapped his past at Hogwarts and found they had done nothing to prepare him for his future, for the prophecy he would have complete. He had thought over his anger from last term, his rebellion, all the times he wanted in, only to find he wasn't ready to run with the Order. As much as he hated to admit it, they were right. He was still just a kid, in a way. He had run in, shouted a few spells, but it was all luck. They were all lucky to be alive; Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Ginny. And in the end, Harry had once again been tucked safely to the side as Dumbledore and Voldemort dueled. Useless and in the way. But whose fault was that? If he hadn't been locked in a bloody cupboard under the stairs for his first 11 years of life and then thrown into a completely foreign world, expected to take on...calm. No use worrying over spilt milk. He needed to focus on finding a way to train himself, to be ready for what was to come.

Turning his mind back to the dinner he was fixing, his thoughts wrapped around the fact that the Dursleys had lightened his list of chores to just cooking, cleaning, and gardening. They had taken the threat at the train station seriously and left him alone most of the time. The work was welcomed to Harry since it tended to drag his mind away from unpleasant memories he wished not to dwell on. The only difference this year was he actually received money for the chores he did; despite how little that was, it was still some money in his pocket.

It had slipped his mind to write letters to the Order, and it wasn't until Tonks tripped on the sidewalk one day that Harry realized he was still being watched and the requested 3 day letters weren't necessary...

The ring of the doorbell broke Harry out of his thoughts. Dinner was spread out on the table and ready to be served as the loud barks of Marge's newest terror made Harry shudder slightly.

'Into the fire I go,' he thought to himself.

A jumble of squeals and exclamations on how handsome Dudley looked and a small thump all signaled the beginning.

"Potter! Get in here and get your Aunt's bag."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry said through gritted teeth.

In keeping with family tradition, Marge had seemingly gotten larger. "Oh, you're still here?"

"Yes," he replied shortly.

"Again with the insolence! I see they're slacking with the cane at that school of yours," she spat with spit flying everywhere, then turned to Petunia. "You know, I don't see how you can put up with this foul mannered little brat."

The latest brute of a dog came up growling at Harry's leg. Emerald met brown. A few seconds passed before the bulldog backed down.

"Good boy," Harry whispered, patting the dog on the head.

"Don't you dare touch my poor Broga! He's just had a bath and he doesn't need your filthy hands on him!" Marge shrieked.

Harry turned away, rolling his eyes. Care of Magical Creatures had given him a newfound ease with animals, even Marge's bulldogs. After Blast-Ended Skrewts, dragons, hippogriffs, and thestrals, a domestic dog was a walk in the proverbial park. Harry would have chuckled at the idea of studying the Dursleys as some odd species of whale, but then he wondered what Sirius would think of that. Swallowing his grief, he picked up her bag and headed towards the cupboard under the stairs with some parting thoughts from Marge on his personal hygiene.

Stowing away her bag in his former bedroom, Harry continued into the kitchen and began to serve out dinner. The Dursleys made small talk in the living room over the loud blaring of the television. Dudley was entranced by the gory action film as Marge fiddled with his gold locks and kept exclaiming over how handsome he'd gotten. Talk turned to Dudley's newfound boxing career and his popularity with the girls. Harry was glad he hadn't ate that much throughout the day; he really didn't want to find out what vomiting on the dinner table would do for the situation. Announcing that dinner was ready, Harry quickly backed into the kitchen as Dudley lumbered through with Petunia, Vernon, and Marge following.

As usual, Marge was ready with charming dinner conversation.

"Are you going to stick around this time? Or are you going to run off to your room like the coward you seem to be?" she asked in a sickly sweet voice, sounding remarkably like Umbridge.

Harry ignored her, wondering why he'd never asked what her memory had been altered to. Continuing on, he served seconds to Dudley and walked back to the sink, cleaning the empty pots and pans that weren't being used.

After a few minutes, everything calmed down. Nobody paid too much attention to Harry after that. It looked like he might just get off easy, although he got a bit worried as they moved to the living room for a night cap. Dursleys and alcohol were never a pleasant combination. Harry briefly wondered if Professor Snape would know if the effects of potions and poisons would change when administered to people of...drastically different temperaments and weight. Still, everything was quiet. Harry was almost home free, that is until he accidentally tripped over Broga as he was trying to pick up the leftovers from the dessert. The dog gave a soft yelp, but immediately went to chomping on the leftovers Harry haddropped. He bent down to remove the dish from the dog's reach and gave him a quick scratch behind the ears, knowing better than to disturb any animal while it was eating or drinking.

"Sorry boy," Harry began.

"You clumsy little oaf! You did that on purpose!" Marge said, jumping off the couch and onto her feet.

It looks like the 'Do Not Disturb' rule also applies to homo sapiens as well. Harry would have smiled at that - emphasis on "would have".

'Here it comes,' Harry thought, turning to face the woman.

"It was an accident," he said simply.

"Like hell it was! You're a cruel, lying little bastard, aren't you?" Marge shouted, calling Broga to her so she could rub his belly. "My poor sweet dog."

Harry flinched marginally, but held his ground.

"Now, Marge, don't trouble yourself with it. It's not worth it," Petunia cut in.

"Oh, it isn't worth it! Have I been demoted to an 'it' now?" Harry asked in a deadly soft voice. This was the "family" that was giving him protection?

"You have never been anything but a disgusting, slimy, pus-oozing waste of space! You and your parents both!" Marge hissed. "Lazy, good-for-nothing piece of trash. You're of bad blood, you stupid little troublemaker! Jobless father and worthless mother. No offense to you, of course, Petunia," she added to his Aunt.

To Harry's shock Petunia simply nodded, agreeing with her.

That did it for his anger control. Harry's eyes froze over as he prepared for the tirade of all tirades.

"I'm a waste of space? Me! A waste of space!" Harry began quietly.

"Yes, you worthless little -" Marge was cut off.

"Shut up!" Harry shouted with a silver fire burning in his eyes, a breeze forming from nowhere and ruffling his hair and baggy clothes. "You know nothing about me or James and Lily Potter! They were two wonderful people who worked hard to do good in life, despite the fact they were rich beyond your wildest dreams if the gold in my vault is anything to go by!"

"Gold! You insolent, free-loading -" Vernon could hardly get the words out as he spluttered, face slowly darkening to a lovely shade of purple.

"You want to know who I am? You want to know what I am! Well, I'll tell you!"

Vernon began to panic; the cat was out of the bag now. "Now - now see here, boy!"

"I am a wizard! A full blood, wand-waving, magic working, spell casting wizard!" Harry said, a smirk on his lips.

"That's ridiculous," Marge scoffed.

"I said QUIET!" Harry shouted, whipping his wand from his back pocket in his jeans and binding the lot of them.

"What is the meaning of this!" Marge screamed.

"I am the wizarding world's last chance to defeat a wizard so evil that most people still don't speak his name!" he thundered, taking in their jumps as he did so. "And I vanquished him when I was just a year-old babe. He killed my parents and tried to kill me, too. He tried using the killing curse on me, a curse that cannot be blocked or countered by magic. It backfired on him, leaving the monster nothing more than shadows and dust for the next 10 years!"

The Dursleys were trembling in all-out fear now, a silver aura had begun to be produced as Harry's anger built and surrounded the lithe form before him, displaying the power that he possessed.

"I am sick of all this crap! I have faced him down 4 times in the past 5 years. I killed his host Professor Quirrel with a mere touch. A teacher whom Dumbledore decided to let waltz in the school with snake-face sticking out the back of his head when I was 11!"

A lightening bolt crashed outside.

"Then, when I was 12, I killed a basilisk with the help of a phoenix and a sword that I pulled from an old hat. Want to know what a basilisk is? It's a 35 foot long snake that could kill you with one look in it's eyes! Then, I destroyed the diary of the man who killed my parents so that his memory self couldn't suck the life out of my best friend's little sister. And what do I get in return! I'm almost killed by basilisk venom and almost have my memory erased by a fraud of a teacher that Dumbledore saw fit to teach students."

Any effort to keep a calm, collected composure was abandoned. "When I was 13, the man who supposedly betrayed my parents broke out of prison and came to help me catch the real rat behind their death. My godfather, Sirius Black, was wrongfully accused and convicted of murder while Peter Pettigrew, the real culprit, hid as a pet to my friend Ron."

Marge's eyes widened and her jaw dropped open, her double chins quivering in time with her brother's and nephew's. Even she had heard of the infamous Sirius Black.

"However, Pettigrew escaped again when Sirius' friend, and current professor, turned into a werewolf as the full moon rose in the night sky. If that hadn't of happened, I wouldn't be here right now," Harry whispered the last part quietly, clenching his fists at his own stupidity.

"When I was 14, I had to face the wizarding world's most grueling competition. The Tri-Wizard Tournament is a contest between magical schools, and all the other champions were 3 years older than I was. One of Voldemort's henchmen entered my name in, despite the fact I was younger than the age limit permitted. I ended up with a tie with the other representative of my school, a boy named Cedric Diggory," Harry's voice broke slightly.

"As we took the Cup together, we were transported to a graveyard. Pettigrew used the Killing Curse on Cedric and then used my blood to resurrect Voldemort." The sound of defeat filled his voice. "We dueled, or rather - he put me under the other 2 unforgivable curses before he allowed me my wand back, and then had the nerve to call it a duel. Tom Riddle, greatest evil sorcerer of the age, and I crossed wands. I got away alive, again, but just barely. And I was able to take Cedric's body back to his family."

Harry's rage began to build again.

"And just when you'd think I'd get some help from the world, and I wouldn't have to do it alone anymore, I was left in this god-forsaken dung heap for the summer, blind to the entire magical world because of that damn meddling old coot! I return to Hogwarts to find the Minister of Magic denying any proof of Voldemort's return. I was alone. Again. Most of the school turned against me, one of the Minister's lackeys tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on me - extremely painful, let me tell you - and then Sirius..."

From Harry's burning eyes, tears trailed down his sharp cheeks.

"I was lured to the Ministry of Magic. My friends and I had to face down Voldemort again. Me and no more than 6 of my friends against an army of the Dark Lord's henchmen. School kids against fully trained Dark Wizards and Witches. We all walked away alive, but my godfather wasn't so lucky. He was dueling his own cousin, a dark witch, when he fell through the Veil of the Dead.

"But the worst part of all is that, when I was one and that bastard carved this bloody scar on my forehead, I was taken from my parents' home and brought here. I was brought here to live in a stupid shoe cupboard for 11 years without so much as a how-do-you-do from the man that placed me there. My only escape was when a half-giant named Hagrid brought me a letter in emerald ink.

"And now," Harry said with finality. "Now I'm back here in this hermit hole, stuck with a family of WHALES that call me a waste of space. I say SCREW YOU! Say what you will about me, because I could care less what you think of me, but if you make one more comment about my parents or my kind - I WILL NOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS!"

His wand shot out a shower of sparks as the magic in the area triggered it. The Dursleys shook under his gaze.

Harry took a deep breath. "I've tried the Cruciatus Curse, that torture curse I told you about, once. It was on Bellatrix Lestrange, after she killed Sirius Black. She said I needed pure hatred to make it work properly. But in your case, I'm positive I could manage the anger to make it work," he hissed. Of course, he was lying - he could only come up with righteous anger - but they didn't know that.

Suddenly, the door burst open and in came Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Wotcher, Harry," the female Auror said evenly, her silver streaked green hair matching the glowing light that surrounded him.

"Not now, you two. I'm ranting," Harry said, giving a bitter laugh.

"Harry, mate, you need to calm down," Tonks stated calmly, holding her wand loosely in her hand.

"Last time I checked, this was my house and in my house I'll do whatever the hell I please. Tell Dumbledore that if he wants me locked up in St. Mungo's for counseling, he should have thought about it in the first place!" Harry hissed.

The two Aurors gaped at the young man that stood before them. Sparks shooting from his wand and fire in his eyes. This was a different Harry than they'd seen last year.

Harry focused on Petunia. "And you, of all the people in this room, I should have expected more from you. I am the only son of your sister. I'm family! Don't you know how important that is! Voldemort has wiped out countless magical families, including my dad's - the Potters. How could you spit on her grave with the way you treat me? You kept me in the damn shoe cupboard until I got my first letter. What have I ever done to make your lives miserable? Did you think I wanted my parents murdered and this reminder carved into my head!" Harry all but screamed, pulling his bangs back. "You made me your SERVANT for the most part of my life. Why?" The silver glow around Harry subsided, flickering in his eyes for a moment before disappearing. "I just don't understand."

The silence was broken quicker than anyone would have thought possible.

"Y - you call yourself family!" Petunia asked, anger evident in her voice.

Harry looked up, surprised she could speak after all he'd spilled. And of all things, she looked incredulous.

"You're nothing to me! You're not normal, therefore not of my blood! You're a freak of nature; just like your mother, your father and all those friends of yours! You're not fit for this earth!" She stood, rounding on the two Aurors in the doorway. "You and all your kind should be wiped out! I never wanted to have anything to do with you. If it weren't for the fact that that bloody Figg woman would have made a scene about it, you'd be in an orphanage like you should be!" she shrieked with finality.

Harry sighed tiredly, walking towards the two Aurors. "It's people like you, Aunt Petunia, that make wizards and witches join Voldemort. Or didn't I mention? He has sworn to wipe the world of muggles and half-bloods. People like you, your husband, your son; anybody you see in your ordinary life. People that still have no idea that magic exists. Ironic, considering he's a half-blood himself. You have no idea what I'm about. And you never will."

With a flick of his wand, he released the bonds holding his captives to the sofa. He turned to the Order members, shocked to see them simply standing there.

"I guess Mafalda will be writing soon," he said, indicating his wand and the Dursleys.

"Actually, Dumbledore made this place unplottable this summer for some extra protection. The wards set up by the Ministry no longer function," Kingsley explained.

"And you were going to tell me this...when?" Harry asked, eyes flaring with silver once more.

"Sorry, kid. Dumbledore's orders; he didn't want you attacking your relatives like you're currently doing," Tonks said as if that solved everything.

"Screw the orders! I've got a madman after my head and I need to train! What part of that don't you understand?" Sighing in frustration, Harry turned away from the Aurors. "Oh, my mistake. Where were my manners when I asked what kind of protection was placed around my home. Forgive me for asking questions, heaven forbid. The defenseless child will resume his place in the not-so-padded cell," Harry spat, stomping up the stairs.

Not very mature, he agreed, but now he had some actual proof why he shouldn't be kept out of the loop. He was their only chance. And if Dumbledore trusted him with the prophecy, why wasn't he worried about Riddle obtaining that information? It didn't make sense.

Tonks followed after him. "Look, mate. We know you're not happy about all this -"

He whirled around in the middle of the stairs to face her. "Happy? Why shouldn't I be happy? It's just another fun summer of everyone's favorite game of 'Let's Keep Harry in the Dark!'"

Her golden brown eyes narrowed. "Look, kid -"

"No! You look! I'm not just some regular kid! I'll never be one, all right! Don't get all high and mighty Auror on me and try to play the understanding person when Dumbledore screws up. While Voldemort's out there killing innocents and getting stronger by the day - oh, for the love of GOD, WOMAN! It's just a damn name, and you call yourself a bloody Auror!" Harry shouted as she flinched at the Dark Lord's name. "Well, while Tom is gathering power, going on killing sprees, and getting an even BIGGER army to plot against us with, I'm stuck here working as a house elf and learning absolutely nothing. So excuse me if it feels like I'm being handcuffed for Voldie to come and get a clear shot at me. Unless Dumbledore's plan is to hope that if I'm completely defenseless the Killing Curse will just bounce off me like super balls. As you can see, I'm alive and well. Pissed, but alive. I'm going upstairs to tell Dumbledore we have to have a talk come September. No owls be damned."

"Wait, Harry. We've got some good news," Tonks called to him, trying vainly to leave on a good note.

Harry turned from his position on the stairs. "Fudge was assassinated?" he asked.

"Nope, but just as good," she announced with a smile. "Pettigrew's been caught!"

Tonks was glad she had demanded to be the one to tell Harry. The look on his face was worth it. She was, however, surprised at how fast he could go from full blown rage to happy giddiness. "Really?! How?! Where?! When?! Will Sirius be -?"

"Slow down, kid. Seems some Auror found him wandering around Knockturn Alley. And yes, Sirius had been cleared of all charges. His will states you inherit half his fortune. We decided to let you know first, for a change," Kingsley said. "On my wand, Harry, I don't know how you are still on our side with people like those for relatives."

Three of the four people in question were still in shock on the couch. Petunia was frantically trying to get them to reawaken. "Potter! Get down here and undo whatever spell it is you put them under!" she screamed, her voice reaching painfully high notes. Was she an opera singer in a past life?

"Unless I accidentally cast an Obesity Hex on them before I was born, I haven't done a thing to their ugly little heads," Harry retorted, most of his anger gone after he heard the news of Peter's capture.

Tonks snickered. "Well, Harry, we still need to Oblivate them."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Could you give hem a memory where they just ate dinner and went off quietly to bed after a few drinks?"

Petunia put up a small fight seeing the duo advance on her with wands drawn, but some quick wand work and 4 memory alterations later, the two Order members were ready to go. "We should be heading back. We'll see you soon, all right?" Tonks said with a wave.

"Whatever."

Harry closed the door and sat at his desk. He had plans to make...