Harry Potter and The Year of Discoveries

"So I suppose you'll be asking us if you can go to that boy's house? What's his name? Weezer?" Vernon Dursley asked his nephew, eyeing the boy suspiciously.

Harry swallowed hastily before answering, "Um, no, actually. Professor Du- the Headmaster at my school said I couldn't go this summer."

A mixture of expressions crossed Vernon's face. On the one hand, he could work the boy exceptionally hard this summer and make his life miserable. On the other hand, they would have to take him to get his school supplies and drive him to the train station. Either way, it was a no-win situation for the Dursley's.

"You get into too much trouble last year?" Dudley asked, snickering at his cousin. "I mean, why else would your stupid Headmaster not let you go to that boy's house?"

Harry rose from his chair in anger. "Do NOT," he said very forcefully. "Ever call Professor Dumbledore stupid! He is the greatest Wizard who ever lived!"

At this, Vernon went absolutely rigid. His nephew had just used one of the forbidden words in the Dursley household. "You are never to speak to Dudley that way again, do you hear me boy?"

Harry nodded emphatically, not wanting to get into further trouble. "Yes sir. I apologize Dudley. It won't happen again." Harry crossed his fingers, hoping the Dursley's wouldn't notice the lack of compassion in his apology. Harry would stand up for Albus Dumbledore, no matter what the cost.

Vernon and Petunia exchanged glances and nodded. "Very well then. When you're finished with your breakfast, the garden needs to be weeded this afternoon. I want it done by dinner time."

Harry sat back down, quietly so as not to disturb the rest of the family. However, he did have one thing to ask. "Um, Uncle Vernon?"

"What?" Vernon snapped at the boy.

"Since I can't go to the Weasley's, would you be able to drive me to London so I can get my supplies?" Harry bit his lip, anticipating the answer.

Vernon grunted and replied, "If you do exactly as you're told over the next few weeks, then yes. I will drive you. But don't expect me to wait or go into that place with you."

"Of course not. Thank you. If it's alright, there's a place I can stay there for the remaining week before term starts back up again." Harry saw the hesitation on his Uncle's face and plunged ahead. "Besides," he added quickly, "you won't have to come back to pick me up, and I have some money to pay for it, so you don't need to concern yourself with that either. I'll be out of your hair one week earlier," Harry concluded hopefully.

"We'll see. Now, get to the garden!"

"Yes sir." Harry rose from his seat, taking his plate and napkin to the kitchen on his way to the back yard. He quickly rinsed his plate, placing it in the dishwasher. Before heading outside, Harry took a quick detour to the old cupboard under the stairs, searching for the old dilapidated gardening gloves.

Getting settled in the Dursley's garden, Harry surveyed exactly how much work he had ahead of him. Groaning at what he saw, he quickly set to work. "Honestly...I swear I did this...a week...ago..." Harry grunted as he pulled on a rather stubborn weed. "If I didn't...know...better...I'd think they were...using magic to grow these things faster...UNH!" He had finally gotten a good enough grip on the weed and pulled it out of the ground. Thus resulting in Harry losing his balance and landing smack on his bum. "Oh, that was graceful," he muttered to himself. "Good show, Harry."

"Do you talk to yourself often, then?"

Harry gasped as heard a voice coming from behind him. Turning around, he found a very pretty woman, and a man who looked remarkably like Harry, standing by the hedge separating the Dursley's yard from the neighbors. The woman was tall, about 5'7, with straight coppery red hair, flowing down her back. Her eyes were bright green, very similar to Harry's own. There was a man standing next to her, who was slightly taller, with messy black hair and chocolate brown eyes. They looked to be in their mid-30's, though Harry wasn't really a judge on age. Both grinned at the boy sprawled out on the grass.

Harry grinned broadly and scrambled to get up. "Only when there isn't anyone else around. Hi," he greeted the strangers, brushing some stray out of his face and revealing the odd looking scar on his forehead. "My name is Harry Potter. You new to the neighborhood?"

The girl nodded as her brother spoke up. "Pleased to meet you, Harry Potter. My name is..." He paused momentarily, then, "Jaron Peterson, and this is my wife, Elizabeth. Most people call her Liz, or Lizzy. We just moved in next door yesterday evening."

"Hmm. Wonder why I didn't see a moving van," Harry mused quietly.

"So, Harry, what does one do for fun around here?"

Harry shrugged indifferently. "Heck if I know. They," he jerked his finger towards Number 4 Privet drive, "rarely have fun. Or if they do, I never know about it. I'm not allowed to interact with actual people." Harry said this last part quite bitterly and instantly regretted it. Now Jaron and Liz would be asking questions. To his surprise, they merely accepted his answer.

"That's too bad. We've never been in this area of England before and we don't know anything about it." Liz said, smiling sadly at Harry.

Harry took notice of the mood change and decided to inquire about it. "Why so sad, Liz?"

"I used to have a sister. She never really liked me, especially after we went off to different schools. When I was in my last year at school, she got married to some great big oaf and moved to this area. I was just wondering if she was still here."

"What was her name?" Harry asked innocently.

The redhead gave her husband a panicked look before settling her eyes back on Harry. The glance was not lost on the young wizard, but he chose to ignore it for the time being. "It doesn't matter," replied Liz. "You probably wouldn't know her anyway."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Good point. The Dursley's never let me wander around the neighborhood. Such wonderful people, really." Harry muttered sarcastically.

Jaron looked at Harry sharply. "You really don't like them, do you?"

"Well," Harry replied, "You wouldn't like someone much if they had kept you locked up in a cupboard for eleven years, would you?"

Liz and Jaron gasped simultaneously, tears filling their eyes. Harry was somewhat surprised by their response, but decided to continue. "Or if all they fed you for breakfast was a half-eaten piece of toast? And it was never guaranteed from day to day if you would go to bed with supper in your belly? No, I really don't like them at all. Matter of fact, I can't wait until the day I graduate from school and I can walk out of this place for good. And everything in my life might actually start to improve." The bitterness in his voice was clearly evident, and the Boy Who Lived buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he told them apologetically. "I didn't mean to say those things. I usually don't spill my most personal feelings with perfect strangers." He paused again, catching his breath. "I guess, in some twisted way, I can understand why they do what they do. I mean they just don't understand what I am, and that misunderstanding is nearly always followed by hatred and prejudice."

Harry looked up, shocked by what he saw. Liz was sobbing so hard that she was shaking like a leaf. Jaron held her in his arms, whispering words of comfort to his cousin. He spoke to softly for Harry to catch everything, but he did hear occasional words that made him frown in confusion. "Shhh...alright, Lil. Albus...but we...known. I want...wait...he's not...yet. Hush..." Jaron continued to rock Liz, gently stroking her long hair. He looked over at Harry, anguish in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he muttered over the top of her head. "She's rather sensitive, especially about family things. We best be going now."

Harry nodded at once in agreement. "Of course. I'm terribly sorry. I never thought she would react like that."

"It's quite all right. Might we come out later and visit you?"

"As long as I get the weeding done by dinner time, it shouldn't be a problem. Just don't let the Dursley's see you. They'll have my hide if we're caught."

Jaron nodded and led Liz towards the neighboring house. Harry watched them momentarily, concern clouding his green eyes. He turned back to the garden, hoping that some of those weeds had decided to uproot themselves. No such luck. However, he did find a brand new flower; a lily in full bloom. It wasn't so much that this flower had appeared out of nowhere, but the beauty of it which enraptured Harry. The flowers surrounding it were dull in comparison to the flower which stood in the garden, taller and more majestic than any of its' mates. And Harry could swear he saw it glow.

He shrugged, setting his mind to the task at hand. He had to get the weeding done; otherwise Vernon would never take him to Diagon Alley or let him stay at the Leaky Cauldron. As he pulled out weed after weed, Harry found his thoughts turning to Jaron and Liz. Harry snorted at the path his mind was taking, pulling up another weed.

Deciding to forget about the mystery already surrounding his new neighbors, Harry added new vigor to his work. But he couldn't get one thought out of his mind. Harry thought about this for over an hour before coming to the only logical conclusion.