Malfoy Flavor

-2-

Another week later and Harry was getting frustrated. There was only so much he could get from the books he had on hand. He'd learned most of this already and much of it was review. He knew he was going to need much more. Maybe if I write to Hermione, I can get her to send me some more books. But first, a shower.

When Harry stepped in front of the mirror, he gave himself an appraising look. He was confused. He knew he'd done a lot to change his appearance this summer, but he was noticing changes that didn't make sense. For one, he was sure that his hair had grown at least a couple more inches. It also seemed blacker than it had before, if that was even possible. There just seemed to be an extra shine to it. And it was straighter as well. Normally, he could never get his hair to lie flat, but now it seemed to be just a bit wavy. His face seemed a bit more angular as well. His cheekbones seemed more defined and there was more of an arch to his eyebrows. He knew he'd been going for a new look, but how could this have been possible?

So far he hadn't told anyone about his new image for himself, but looking in the mirror, he had the feeling that his new image was going to be even more drastic than he had bargained for. Whether it was intentional or not, he did like what he was seeing in the mirror. It was going to be a different person heading back to school in the fall.

After finishing his shower, he headed downstairs for breakfast. The Dursleys didn't trust him to do any of the cooking anymore. They seemed to be afraid of Harry poisoning them. Of course, he wouldn't really poison them, even if the thought had crossed his mind more than once.

He noticed his uncle's angry expression from the moment he stepped into the kitchen. He was used to his uncle being angry, but this seemed extreme even for him. Harry began to wonder if he shouldn't just head out for the day and get breakfast in London. He'd certainly be able to eat more that way. With typical reckless bravery though, Harry decided to sit down at the table anyway.

"Boy!" Vernon bellowed. "What are you doing in this kitchen?"

Harry stared at him. This really was going to be one of those days. He glanced over to where Aunt Petunia was standing in front of the stove. She seemed even stiffer than normal, but it appeared that she was refusing to turn around. Harry glanced over at Dudley who was sitting in his usual spot across the table from Harry. But for once he was keeping his eyes glued to the plate in front of him and wasn't giving Harry the usual dirty looks.

What the fuck is going on around here?

"I'm sitting down for breakfast like I do almost every morning," was all Harry said aloud.

"Don't you give me that lip, boy!" Vernon yelled. "I don't know how you did it exactly, but I'm sure this must be all your fault. Either that, or it's your ruddy friends that did this."

Harry was confused. "What do you think I've done now? I've been staying out of your way as much as possible this summer."

Vernon stood up. "I said I don't want your cheek!" he bellowed.

Harry stood up as well. Whatever was going on couldn't be good for him. It was time to get out of there before something happened.

"I know it's got to be your fault that I was fired. Everything is always your fault!" Vernon shouted.

Harry didn't say anything. Saying anything at this point wasn't going to help. He went to move around his uncle so he could leave, but didn't get very far.

Wham! The next thing Harry knew, he was seeing stars. Vernon had backhanded him with enough force to knock him into the wall. Harry didn't get much of a chance to contemplate the stupidity of not having his wand on him. He tended to avoid having it on him while in the house because he was afraid it would be too tempting. He'd been in enough trouble with the Ministry. It didn't seem wise to risk everything just to be able to hex his relatives, but now he was regretting that decision.