No Longer

A Controlled Environment

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**Harry Potter

Petunia opened her mouth, intending to scream so that others would come to her aide, but no sound emerged. There wasn't even a noise provoked by the hard puff of air leaving her lungs as if she truly had screamed.

See, Harry, the dear considerate boy that he was, had placed a silencing charm on his Auntie Dearest so that they were no bother to the others around them. After all, what would the neighbors think if they heard screams coming from the Dursley household? After all, no freakishness was allowed beneath their roof.

He slid gracefully from his stool and landed neatly on his feet, his knees bending the slightest degree to cushion the impact. It was a good deal more impressive if one took into account the comparatively small stature of Harry and then the distance of the seat from the floor. For a child such as him, one had to wonder where he'd learned such poise, after all, he'd spent his entire life with his eyes downcast and shoulders hunched forward in futile protection.

Casually, Harry sauntered over to his aunt, with his false smile slipping by increments from his face, and his arms swaying lightly by his sides. 

When he got within five feet of her, she took a stumbling step back, almost tripping over her stupid yellow dressing gown in the process. Harry was unimpressed by this action, and made a slight swirling motion with his finger. 

Immediately, she stopped moving, her body going rigid with her arms pinned to her sides as a silent petrificous totalous took hold of her and forced her into a painfully upright position.

Moving ever closer, Harry allowed a true piece of himself to come through his glamour. It had never been revealed to the Dursleys that Harry used a glamour, not once. He himself hadn't even known he was wearing a glamour. It felt so nice to do this.

His right eye seemed to melt away from the dull green of Evan's to an endless black in seconds. Harry had allowed the slow releasing of it because the feeling of a weight falling off his shoulders was so soothing. This lightening of his core had only heightened his anticipation for the events to come.

The newly revealed eye was true black with no shine to it at all. It had not an inkling of light in it, but when looked into, one had the distinct impression of endless night and shimmering stars. Harry didn't understand how, seeing as there was no light to be had in the obsidian pit, but it managed nonetheless.

He drew to a halt a foot from his aunt and frowned. No, he'd not bring about Petunia's end now. He'd much rather have each Dursley forced to witness the other's punishments.

Efficiently performing a body bind hex on Petunia, Harry teleported her onto the couch in the living room and out of his sight. He wasn't sure why he'd used the muggle term for apparition, but seeing as how he'd not been with her as she moved through the folds of space, it just seemed to work better.

Vernon would be down in about half an hour, and Dudley would usually make his was down about four hours after that. Harry would wait the half hour, as he still had plenty to do and thought it best to have a precomposed plan of the next few days, but he had no patience to pander towards his overfed pig of a cousin. When he'd finished setting Vernon up next to his wife, he'd call Dudley down and awake with magic.

Now, what to do until Vernon was up. . .

Plotting would be useful, it was certainly necessary if he wished for his various ventures to succeed, but which element ought he to focus in on first? Money perhaps? 

If he wanted to, he supposed he could simply create it using magic, it would be  the simplest method, but he didn't like the idea much. It seemed petty and far too easy to satisfy him. Sure, if he was in a pinch he could use that method, but what he really wanted was something long term, that would provide him with both experience and information.