Author's Notes: Okay, I'll be honest with you. I didn't really take the time to proofread this chapter. It's long, it was difficult to write, and I'm sick of looking at it. I'll probably go back and fix all the glaring errors later, if there are any. (I'm pretty certain there are, though.) I just want to dump this chapter on your doorstep and keep on walking.

I have a lot of things in store for this fic, but an ungodly amount of it happens during the summer. I'm hoping to finish the setup in three or four more chapters so I can finally get these obnoxious brats to Hogwarts, and I can start on the REAL story. Gah... I should have just covered the summer in an entirely different fic, but I hadn't wanted to make this thing a bloody epic. Heheh... Too late.

I also decided to turn a blind eye to angst. I don't know what I was thinking. I can't write angst to save my life. Well, I could -it just puts me in a foul mood. I like happy, smiley Caps a lot more than moping, moody Caps, so the angst I promised you was avoided to the best of my ability.

A very heartwarming thank you to all of you who have taken the time to review. Keep 'em coming, all of you lovely people -your response is the whip that cracks ominously in the background of my mind as I endlessly toil away trying to give you what meager, homely stuff I have to offer. Kisses to all!

On with the show!

PS
I apologize for the long wait and, as a way to win your hearts back, offer you a chapter that has thirty percent more than any other chapter. (Teeheeh, I feel like I'm selling a product. :sheepish grin:) Enjoy!

Harry Potter and the Forgotten Heirs Part 5

Duo Maxwell was a man on a mission. Well... technically he was a skirt-wearing, face painted, faking-a-husky-falsetto-voice kind of man on a mission, but that didn't make his mission any less imperative in as much as it made the situation just a tad more ridiculous than it honestly should have been. The mere fact that, yes, the inevitability that Duo would ever find himself on a mission in a dress had come to pass, and the irony should have at least tamed the wild fury of finding out one of his new friends was being horribly mistreated by his family.

Nonetheless, Duo was very close to losing his temper and unleashing an unholy hell on the Dursleys.

His new friend's situation was, in fact, because of the Headmaster of Hogwarts himself, leader of the secret organization that pitted against Voldemort (and damn what the Ministry of Magic had to say about it) and the official knowledgeable old guy that Harry had to actually work with, which just seemed like a slap in the face, in Duo's opinion. Harry didn't need Dumbledore; Dumbledore needed Harry. Therefore, Duo surmised that Dumbledore had no right to demand the Gryffindor Golden Boy stay in such dangerous, soul-crushing atmosphere in the first place.

Duo planned to have a very long, very stern talk with Dumbledore about priorities and where Dumbledore's were when it came to Harry's safety mentally and emotionally as much as he cared about Harry physically. The planned discussion wouldn't be happening any time in the near future, however, as Duo felt he wouldn't be rational enough in explaining why he thought the Headmaster was a manipulative bastard that had subtler evil qualities that rivaled the freaking Dark Lord. If Duo approached Dumbledore before he had an opportunity to calm down, he would most likely go straight to name-calling, punctuated with the frequent use of deplorable words not fit for the faint of heart.

Meanwhile, if Dudley Dursley didn't back out of Duo's personal space soon, the American was going to throttle the pig with his hair (for lack of convenient substitutes for Duo to utilize in slowly strangling someone with a neck that thick until said victim stopped twitching).

Where the hell was Harry? It'd been fifteen minutes. Who took fifteen minutes to wash up and change into clean clothes, anyway?

"Are you even listening to me?" the pig demanded, looking at Duo shrewdly.

"Of course I am," Duo murmured absently.

"He's talking about Mega Mutilator Four," Trowa said tiredly. Duo didn't blame the quiet boy. Ten minutes of listening to Dudley freaking Dursley enjoy the sensation of feeling wind on his teeth as he spilled his life story and ramble on about his hobbies would make anyone cranky. Draco had almost begged Duo to silently disable the listening charm that was placed on a small earring subtly clipped to the upper cartilage of his left ear. Duo refused, theorizing that if he had to suffer through the endless prattling of a truly uninteresting human being, by God, everyone else was going to have to suffer, too.

But thank God Trowa had actually been listening, or Duo would have missed the opportunity to subtly slight the wannabe Lothario. "He admitted difficulty in beating the boss on level thirteen."

Duo smothered a grin. Perfect. "Did you know there's a cheat code for that level?"

The pig perked up, his face brightening in interest. "Really?"

"Spirits, what a simpleton," Draco muttered in disgust. Duo couldn't agree more.

"Alt-Shift desperation. Enter," Duo said primly, smiling innocently and fluttering his eyelashes at the pig. "If you do that right before you get to the boss, something will happen to your health, ammo, and first aid kits. This code has helped me beat that tricky super-mechoid on numerous occasions."

It was true that Duo wasn't an avid fan of video games. He was entirely too active to actually sit down for long periods of time and rot away in front of a screen while he could be doing something better, like replacing all of Trowa's shampoo with super glue and throwing naughty red socks in with Wufei's white clothes. However, he was no stranger to playing shoot-'em-up games on Heero's laptop, and, what with his excellent hand eye coordination, he knew how to win rather spectacularly at them.

"Desperation mode" was a rather misleading term, which was why the code was so brilliant. The name implied that there would be a rapid increase in first aid kits, health, and ammunition. The actual purpose of the code was to make the game more challenging, and it was the mode in which Duo often played. Ammunition was at a bare minimal, one good hit to the player could end it all, and there were absolutely no first aid kits.

He'd given the code to the pig while implying that it would be in some way beneficial to Dudders' plight while it, in fact, did the complete opposite. It was petty, but damn it, it made Duo smile a little.

Twenty minutes. Where the hell was Harry?

"Dinner is ready," sing-songed the horse-faced woman merrily, sweeping into the living room like the perfect hostess. She clasped her long, spindly fingers together under her chin as she smiled coyly at Duo and Dudley sharing the same couch. "Oh, it's so lovely to see young love these days."

Duo resisted the urge to stare blankly at the woman. Young love? He'd known Dudley for less than an hour and he already foresaw much disappointment in the Dursley matriarch's future.

"Is she joking?" Draco shrieked indignantly in Duo's magically enhanced ear piece, causing the American to flinch not only at the volume of it echoing painfully in his middle ear, but also because Draco was actually indignant on Duo's behalf. "It's impossible to fall in love in under an hour! Spirits, what kind of knut-store smut does she read?"

"How do you know she reads smut?" Heero asked curiously; the Japanese boy was probably more interested in knowing how he could have missed making the same assessment and not Draco's actual reply.

"Look at her. Tall, thin, ugly as sin, an equally vulgar husband, and a stupid son. She has to escape reality somehow, and it must be through trashy romance novels."

"... Hn."

Duo was just being lead into the foyer towards the dining room when he was lucky enough to catch sight of Harry fleeing what the American had assumed was the bathroom. Unfortunately, his intentions didn't appear to be heading downstairs; instead, the Boy Who Lived seemed to be making a beeline for a room at the end of the second-story hallway.

"Won't Harry be joining us for dinner?" Duo blurted suddenly. He couldn't believe his friend would willingly leave him in the tender mercies of the Dursleys by himself. Harry couldn't possibly be that cruel.

Oddly enough, Petunia and Dudley hesitated at Duo's innocent question, and Harry's escape was eventually cut short. The Golden Boy appeared to be waiting for some kind of signal from the matron, who's lips pressed together thinly in obvious disapproval.

"Ah, Harry doesn't really enjoy eating with the rest of the family," Petunia said slowly, staring up the landing with snapping blue eyes that silently dared Harry to say otherwise. In other words, the explanation reeked of bullshit.

That was okay. Duo could weave some incredible acting out of one-hundred percent manufactured BS, too. He put a delicate-looking hand against his painted lips with a small gasp, his eyes wide and despondent. Regretfully, he murmured, "Oh, my... I'm putting you at an inconvenience, aren't I? There really isn't enough for five... I'm so sorry, I don't know why I would expect you to be prepared for a surprise guest for dinner... I'm such a terrible guest! I should just go..." Add in the appearance of some crocodile tears, and...

"Mum!" Dudley hissed whiningly, apparently not yet willing to allow his prey to leave. Hook, line, and sinker.

Petunia forced a comforting smile. "Of course not, dear! There's plenty of food. In fact, I'm sure Harry will oblige you in joining us for dinner this evening. Won't you, Harry?" In the If Looks Could Kill category, Petunia Dursley's pointed glare at Harry was a weak level one glower, at best. Of course, how could the horse-faced woman compete with such stiff competition like Heero Yuy and Chang Wufei, whose death glares usually rated at least a level eight or higher?

"Genius," Wufei noted, sounding rather impressed with Duo for turning that situation around.

"No one ever said that Duo is a fool," Quatre added; Duo could almost hear the smile beaming on the blond's face.

"... That's not quite true," Heero admitted grudgingly, probably remembering the earlier days when the rest of the pilots had neglected to realize Duo's subtle brilliance. Hell, Wufei didn't even consider the possibility that Duo had a brain between his ears until the braided boy kicked his butt at Scrabble by whipping out the word 'floccinaucinihilipilification.' The American proceeded to spend thirty minutes trying to convince the irate Chinese youth that floccinaucinihilipilification was an actual word in the English language, and Wufei was just being a sore loser by denying the word its rightful place in the English dictionary.

"I mean, how can you not know what floccinaucinihilipilification is? You do it all the time!" Duo had insisted, which only sent Wufei in search of a dictionary just to make sure Duo wasn't insulting him.(1)

"If you insist," Harry said drolly, only marginally respectful of his aunt. As the green-eyed boy climbed down the stairs, he gave Duo a meaningful glance that clearly read that Duo wasn't going to like the result of forcing the Dursleys to invite him to dinner. The American was under the impression that, like all of his friends, if he was going to have to suffer the attention of the freaking Dursleys, he certainly wasn't going to be the only one. However, he did feel pity that Harry had to put up with them on a daily basis, either until school started or Dumbledore allowed him to leave this hell hole. Besides, Duo needed to know the extent of the abuse before he jumped the gun and punished them in a manner that wasn't befitting the crime, and what better way to judge their punishment than through proof?

The muscles in Duo's right-hand trigger finger convulsed spastically of its own will at the thought of Harry having to do more than tolerate rude behavior and overly sharp reprimands. Instead of showing his ire, however, he meekly bowed his head and shyly said, "Well, if he's okay with that... I don't mean to put anyone at an inconvenience..."

"It's quite alright, dear," Petunia said with a nervous chuckle, her tight smile clearly forced and strained. "Quite alright... Ahm. Come now, this way. Mr. Dursley is probably wondering why we're taking so long."

"She called him 'Mr. Dursley'," Draco said slowly. "... Ew."

Then Quatre surprised them all by saying, "That did seem rather hokey, didn't it?"

Duo covered a surprised laugh with a dainty cough before sweeping gracefully after the horse, a faint smile of amusement tilting the corner of his lips. His eyes were gleamed with the calming familiarity of inner laughter, successfully driving away the dark shadows of fury that once plagued him internally. His sudden good humor was actually a relief, and he suspected that it was more than Quatre's subtle little insult towards Petunia Dursley that brought about the better side of Duo. It must have taken Quatre quite a bit of energy to empathically soothe Duo's furious inner demon from such a distance.

There was a subtle bittersweet shift in Duo's smile. There were very important reasons as to why the American rarely lost his temper; when he really lost his temper. Realizing that a friend was less than happy with his home life was exactly the kind of moral injustice that fueled his burning temper. The more volcanic the Americans temper became, the closer Shinigami clawed to the surface. When Duo's fury reached the Inferno stage...

Goodbye, cruel world.

And all of the hell Shinigami wreaked would be done with a wide grin and dead eyes. Duo owed Quatre a lot more than anybody realized.

By the time he'd decided to focus back on the current situation he was settling in a chair that coincidentally sat along the length of the table, sharing space with another occupant; Dudley Dursley's (almost) beefcake-y stature nearly took up more than half of the table, and Duo almost moaned despondently at how close they would be. Duo didn't care if it spoiled everything; if the pig even thought of playing footsie with the American, Duo was going to shoot them all and keep on walking.

The horse chose to sit close to her walrus husband, who graced the head of the table. This left two empty chairs; Harry quickly took the seat directly across from the walrus and catty-corner to Duo. The walrus frowned, his face starting to color with early signs of irritation. Petunia was quick to silently soothe her husband, her expression fairly begging the man not to... what? Question Harry's presence? To actually have to look at Harry while he attempted to enjoy his meal?

Who the hell did this guy think he was?

"Duo, please, you're getting yourself worked up again..."

The American slowly inhaled, forcing himself to calm down before he exhaled again. He couldn't flip out over every little glare of contempt and irritation. It was rather obvious that the Dursleys didn't like Harry. That was fine; Duo could deal with that. He needed to know if the level of maltreatment went beyond that.

After calming her husband, Petunia sent a firm glare in Harry's direction, as if she wanted to demand that the Gryffindor take the only other empty available so the walrus wouldn't have to suffer too much. However, the only seat left was beside her; the urge to keep her distance from Harry far outweighed the comfort of her husband.

Christ. She was acting like Harry had some sort of communal disease. Had she always been like that to Harry? Had she always been reluctant to actually touch Harry, as if he would somehow pass on leprosy? Duo wondered how that sort of attitude would have impacted Harry as an infant, which probably hadn't been the best idea. The thought only made his boiling temper even more difficult to control.

"Duo."

Damn it, this was harder than he'd originally anticipated.

After breaking her doom stare from Harry, she quickly wielded an insultingly false smile of charm that made Duo want to hurl. "I hope you three brought your appetites," she said coyly. Duo was sure she was doing her best to cut Harry out of the happy family portrait they were trying to set up, but her actions only made her appear mathematically challenged.

Portraying an image of the perfect housewife, Petunia began serving the meal, starting with Dudley. She chose to serve Duo next, and the American barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes in exasperation when the pig immediately began to wolf down the meal, not even bothering to wait for the rest of them had food on their plates.

"He has deplorable table etiquette," Draco murmured scathingly. "Spirits, I shouldn't scold Harry so much on his bad manners. Look at the example this family is setting! It's only polite to serve the guest first, and no one should raise a fork until the last person is served." A pause. "Muggles really are uncultured."

"Trust me, Black," Wufei said cooly. "They're deplorable by muggle standards, as well. I've never seen such honorless dogs in my entire life." Apparently, Duo wasn't the only one who noticed all the subtle glares that the three Dursleys seemed to be unconsciously shooting at Harry.

Duo's eyes widened marginally when he noticed that Harry's plate didn't have a third of the food that everyone else had. Many things happened at once.

Something slammed against Duo's chest just as a hazy emptiness of pure, uncultured rage clouded his mind.

The freshly washed glasses that had yet to be removed from the drainer and put away exploded loudly, putting a halt on all conversation and drawing the horrified attention of the Dursleys. If Duo had actually been paying attention, he would have noticed that Harry suddenly looked nervous.

"Duo!" Quatre gasped, sounding pained. "Duo, you need to calm down. Duo, calm down!"

Duo forced himself to relax his white-knuckled grip on the rather sharp knife he had been given for the roast. It was heart-wrenching, hearing pain in Quatre's voice. He had to calm down. He couldn't lose his cool.

He couldn't lose his cool.

"What was...?" Duo began lamely, honestly confused by the glasses' sudden explosion.

"Accidental magic," Draco explained quietly. "People our age rarely experience it anymore; it's more of a condition from childhood. When potential wizards and witches become extremely emotional, their magic tends to lash out. It shouldn't be surprising that Duo displayed accidental magic; he hasn't been training long enough to control that aspect yet."

When Draco's explanation ended, Duo tuned in just in time to hear Petunia try to sputter a reasonable excuse as to why her dishes suddenly decide to break on their own, the walrus' face darkened dangerously as he glared at Harry.

"Boy," the man growled, giving his nephew a vicious look.

"I didn't do it," Harry said immediately, meeting the walrus' threatening glare with a stubborn set to his chin.

Petunia laughed nervously, attempting to play off the situation by simpering, "Of course Harry couldn't have -how could he?- I mean..."

"Dad," the pig hissed urgently. "Make him stop."

"Go to your room," the walrus grounded out through gritted teeth, adding gruffly, "And you can just forget about getting any supper tonight, boy."

Slam. Duo was already diving when Quatre cried out his name, his arm catching the green-eyed boy and bringing him down to the floor just as the light fixture above the table shattered in a glorious burst of sparks as the very bulbs exploded. Duo had just enough time to cover Harry's body with his own before tiny shards of glass showered the entire area, causing the Dursleys to cry out in alarm as they each belated tried to move out of harms way.

Once the chaos began to subside, Duo scrambled off of Harry with a mumbled apology. Whatever else he had to say was cut short by the sudden appearance of Vernon, standing over them with a look of wrath twisting his sweaty, bloated face. The walrus-like man reached down and wrapped a meaty hand tightly around Harry's upper arm, dragging the boy to his feet and forcefully hauling the Gryffindor into the privacy of the living room.

"Duo, please... Duo!"

Duo saw red.

"Don't do anything you'll regret! Duo!"

"Maxwell!"

"Kill the muggles!"

"Damn it, Draco, you are not helping!"

That did it. The American's anger subsided marginally when he realized just exactly who exploded at Draco this time.

"... Trowa, would you be angry with me if I told you your boyfriend's hot when he's angry?"

"Why do you think I like to keep that side of him to myself?"

A pause. "Oh, for the love of..." Wufei could be heard mumbling, irritated by yet another reminder that all of the boys he was staying with were gay; and that they were bringing another boyfriend into the mix.(2)

Duo finally threw his head back and laughed, ignorant of Petunia and Dudley's scrambling attempts to explain what was going on.

----------

"It wasn't me," Harry protested, attempting to wrench his arm from his uncle's meaty grip as the man dragged him into the living room, away from making a scene in front of a guest. His struggling did no good, and his uncle successfully pulled him into the living room before whirling to face his nephew, his face glowing purple with fury. What made the round man's violet face glow was the layer of sweat that seemed to be pouring from Vernon's pours.

Harry hadn't seen this particular show of "pissed to the extent where actually beating the freak boy is worth the risk of touching him and being contaminated with his freakishness" fury; coincidentally, Uncle Vernon only displayed his anger so totally when Harry, whether accidentally or purposefully, did anything remotely resembling magic in front of other people. The Dursley family had certainly spent a great deal of their time and attention to how normal they appeared to the outside world, never realizing that their many ways of showing off their normality was abnormal in itself. The Dursleys were so far in denial that there honestly wasn't any hope of inviting them to reality soon.

"What have I said, boy?" Uncle Vernon half-whispered, half-bellowed. The way in which his uncle chose to speak only emphasized his rage; the fact he almost could not mask his fury for fear that their guest would hear almost wasn't enough to make the effort to bellow. "No freaky business in my house, especially around normal people who are lucky enough to not know how much of a freak you are!"

"And I'm telling you that it wasn't me!" Harry shot back, his angry green eyes locking defiantly with Vernon's own brown eyes, bloodshot due to the sudden increase in his blood pressure. For one tense moment, Harry thought his uncle was actually going to hit him for doing so; the beefy man had his hand almost halfway in the air, rearing back to strike when a savage voice stopped him cold.

"I did it."

Vernon froze, and the both uncle and nephew turned to look toward the doorway. Despite "Dana's" carefully cultivated appearance of being adorably normal yet still appear so beautifully innocent, the implied threat of ruthless violence in "her" voice actually frightened him to a certain degree. Duo's acting skills had been flawless while pretending to be sweet, virginal Dana Kinsley, and while some lingering mask of Dana was still present, a predator lurked behind his kohl-accented eyes.

Duo was still smiling... but it wasn't a nice smile. The wand pointed steadily at Vernon proved it.

Vernon's grip tightened painfully around Harry's biceps, and the Gryffindor struggled to cover his wince of pain. Harry had known Duo wouldn't take well to the Dursleys -in fact, he'd hoped for it, if only to see the American skillfully plot to get back at the Dursleys before he had to leave. However, he hadn't expected Duo to go so far as to pull his wand on the Dursleys; combined with the dangerous intent gleaming in Duo's amethyst eyes, showing any sign of discomfort because of the grip would be akin to signing Vernon Dursley's death warrant.

"You invited one of your freak friends over?" Vernon hissed, glaring at Harry once more.

"I didn't invite hi-her over," Harry said stiffly, trying to convey through eyes and facial features alone that pissing Duo off wasn't the brightest idea. "She wanted to surprise me for my birthday!"

"Oi," Duo called lazily, drawing their attention away from each other. "Please remember who has the wand, fat man. Now let Harry go before you do something stupid and force me to transform you into something useful." Duo smirked wickedly. "I hear baby seals' skins are all the fad amongst the rich these days."

"I know your rules!" Vernon thundered, gripping Harry's arm so tightly that the Gryffindor couldn't hold back the merest of twitches. Duo narrowed his eyes dangerously, but Vernon was far too furious to notice. "You're still in school. You can't do magic without being expelled!"

"I'm seventeen," Duo retorted. "I'm legal and can do whatever the hell I want."

That little tidbit certainly put an abrupt pause on whatever Vernon was going to say next; however, Harry felt that the man had focused on something other than the implications of harm that Duo was trying to allude to. Instead, the rotund man turned his infuriated gaze back to Harry.

"You can do magic now? No chance of expulsion from that blasted school filled with people like you?"

What Harry said next was probably influenced by many sources that didn't include Draco Black. For one, it could have been his very Gryffindor nature finally presenting itself to the Dursleys after many years of oppression and belittlement. In fact, it could have also been the pent up resentment over the injustice of being treated poorly for no reason other than petty intolerance, even though Harry hadn't known he was a wizard until Hagrid told him on the fateful night of his eleventh birthday. Those were two solid reasons for the words that came out of his mouth that clearly did not include Draco Black in any way, shape, or form.

Still, Harry was almost certain that the sudden desire to lift his chin arrogantly and sneer arctically at the man as he spoke was completely and utterly Draco's fault. "So this day does exist to you. Oh, I'm so overjoyed that you now see me worthy enough to realize I turned seventeen today. Happy birthday to me."

Lights suddenly exploded behind his eyes as the very ground was swept out from under his feet only milliseconds before crippling pain enveloped one whole side of his face and head. The ringing in his ears seemed to echo cavernously as the blackness that seemed to encircle his faded vision slowly retracted.

Harry dazedly realized that not only had his glasses suddenly disappeared from his face, but he was lying on the floor. He didn't even remember falling in the first place. It took even longer to realize that the house was deadly quiet save for his uncle's labored breathing. At first, Harry assumed that his uncle was panting because of his sudden exertion of anger. (Harry belatedly realized that Vernon actually struck him so hard and quickly that Harry didn't even remembering flying to the floor because of the strength behind it, nor did he even see the blow coming.) After taking a moment to push himself into a slumped, seated position on the floor and gather his wits, he distinctly heard a different pitch of breathing. Instead of sounding enraged, his uncle sounded... panicked.

Without the aid of his glasses, Harry could barely make out the expression on his uncle's face. Sharp angles were difficult to make out because of his vision impairment, and it was doubly so the farther the object or person he was attempting to focus on. However, color was a different matter. While color was not as vibrant and clear as with the aid of his glasses, Harry could clearly see that his uncle's face had lost it's violet hue. In fact, the man was completely blanched and shaky. Harry could see that the man's hand, painted bright red with the same fluid that smeared across his forehead and nose, was trembling violently.(3)

Harry suddenly heard Aunt Petunia shriek weakly, as if so frightened that her throat had constricted painfully around her vocal cords. Duo was even further away from him than Uncle Vernon was, so Harry had no hopes of making out his facial features; he did, however, notice that the blocky, black shape Duo was pointing at Uncle Vernon couldn't have been a wand.

"If I ever see you raise a hand to him again, you'll wish that hadn't been a warning shot." Duo's voice was low, raspy, and filled with so much cold aloofness that Harry was momentarily frightened of the normally jubilant American.

"You shot me," Vernon gasped frantically. "You shot me!"

"It's a flesh wound," Duo scoffed mercilessly, tossing his head, his loose hair ruffling behind him. "It won't even need stitches.

"See, I realized you weren't taking me very seriously with a wand," Duo continued, some form of warmth returning to his voice. The sudden attempt of congeniality only belied the ice that ran underneath his words. "Why would you, when you apparently believe that you're so superior over people who happen to have magic that you would risk a potentially fatal curse from me -and believe me, after the library I've been privy to over the summer, I know a lot of fatal curses. Big mistake on your part. But I digress.

"Since I believe the chances of you taking me seriously drastically increase with the presence of a gun, which is a dangerous weapon you're quite a bit more familiar with, I decided to utilize this method. I'm sure you realize just how deadly a firearm can be, especially in the hands of a teenaged terrorist who doesn't really mind killing degenerate pigs like you."

Oh, God, Harry thought feverishly, searching the carpet frantically for his black frames. He didn't... Finally his hand came to rest on his black-rimmed glasses, and he absently slipped them onto the bridge of his nose. He winced when the ear piece lightly scraped the left side of his tender, throbbing face, already knowing that almost the aching area was swelling and bruising. When he looked to Duo, his breath caught in his throat. He did!

Duo was holding a gun. Harry cast a second glance at his uncle, his glasses bringing sharp clarity to the profusely bleeding cut on Vernon's brow.

"This is much better," Duo cooed, the black gun gleaming dully in the light of the living room. "See? Now you know just how serious I am, which is good for both of us. You'll live longer, and I won't have to worry about adding another tally to my already extensive death count."

When no comment was forthcoming from Vernon, Harry sneaked a quick peek at the beefy man's face. Vernon's lips were pressed thinly together, an obvious sign to his frustration. However, the man's eyes jumped nervously from Duo's gun to Duo, only to end the quick inspection with a sharp warning glance at Harry.

Harry quickly scrambled to his feet and took great care to move far out of the man's reach. His vision swam violently, and he thought he was going to pass out. After taking a short moment to collect his wits once more, he steadied himself and exhaled deeply until his stomach settled.

"Harry, we have two options," Duo said calmly, his eyes never leaving Vernon Dursley's sweating face. "You find some duct tape and bind the horse, the walrus, and the pig at the ankles and wrists. You'll use whatever remains to wrap them firmly on that couch. That will leave me free to help you pack all of your belongings so we can sneak out back and Portkey out of here. The second option is that you go straight to packing while I hold down the fort -maybe have a little chat about treating someone as important as family with the common respect he deserves. Or maybe I'll tell them exactly how much it would please me to kill them slowly. Who knows? And then you can find duct tape and follow the previous procedure. Either way, you're coming home with me."

Duo paused. "Personally, you would probably rather pick the first option."

"It's the same choice," Harry said with the frown. At first he thought Duo was calmly pretending he was giving Harry a choice in whether he'd be leaving or not; if that were the case, why would Duo be so explicit as to further encourage Harry to pick one he'd be more comfortable with.

"The second choice would..." There! For maybe all of a millisecond, a chink cracked the carefully constructed mask of a perfectly reasonable human being, and Harry got to see a part of Duo he'd only glimpsed briefly on exceedingly rare occasions. While Duo never seemed to run out of his goofy smiles and crafty quips, people often forgot that Duo was largely capable of feeling an entirely different range of emotions; when the smiles fell away and the quips came to a stop was a critical, dangerous time. Losing a mask that was almost second nature to craft in the first place only meant that Duo was feeling something else more strongly, be it love or care or concern.

In this case, Duo was furious. And that only meant that an entirely different aspect of the American was in full control.

Harry didn't know how to describe the American's duel personality, though he firmly believed his friend had named himself quite appropriately. The Gryffindor was fun-loving, moral, considerate, inspiring, and had an easy-going demeanor that encouraged almost everyone to like him. He honestly had no enemies with anyone at school, if only because his insistent ignorance of house walls erected since the very beginning. It wasn't that any had neglected to inform Duo of such social discretions, but that he didn't really care about a tradition that encouraged people to view others differently based on such vague references to who they were in character. Duo understood more about the people he knew then those same people did about themselves, and he knew exactly what to do and how to react in accordance with what he understood of them. He honestly had few enemies.

Because of Duo's easy-going approach, people often mistook him as nonmalignant. Harry slowly learned over time that being charismatic and being harmless were two completely different things. The Gryffindor was everyone's best friend when he was content. However, when something came along that struck a chord with his firm resolve to protect his friends to the best of his ability, Duo could be ruthlessly calculating and coldly violent. It was a side to Duo that Harry had only heard about secondhand.

'When he loses that act and actually gets serious is when he gets unpredictable,' the green-eyed boy recalled reading in one of the first letters he received from Draco at the beginning of the holiday. 'If he is in survival mode, there is nothing he will not do to insure his safety and the safety of his friends. However, he also knows exactly what to use to his advantage, and if that means taking hostages, he will do it in a heartbeat. He will apologize for going to such extremes, but on the same breath he will assure his enemies that he will go to the extent of shooting his leverage if that means putting someone else at an inconvenience. As much unease as it caused me at the time, in retrospect, I cannot help but respect him for it. It is a move worthy of a Slytherin's ideals.

'But when he gets angry... I've never seen him completely lose his temper, but...,' Draco had continued on in his graceful script, the words seemingly purposefully thought out so as not to reveal anything. 'I suspect there is a reason Duo is so easy to befriend, Harry.'

Duo continued softly, "If you leave me alone with them... Harry, I don't want to scare you."

There is a reason Duo is so easy to befriend, Harry... Because Duo felt fury just as passionately as love; but where love seemed to be handled with such simple ease for Duo, his fury was unpredictable and malicious.

"There should be duct tape in the cupboard," Harry said helpfully, maneuvering carefully around Duo, as the American didn't seem too much in a hurry to move. He soon figured out why; while Duo had a gun trained on Uncle Vernon, his other hand was gripped tightly at the handle of his wand, the tip pointing directly at the huddling forms of Dudley and Aunt Petunia.

"You two," Duo said briskly, jerking the wand to indicate what he wanted them to do. "Move into the living room and sit on the couch. You too, walrus man. On the couch."

Harry was already rifling through the cupboard in search of a roll of duct tape when Aunt Petunia and Dudley scrambled to follow orders. He could hear Uncle Vernon uselessly blither about how Duo and Harry couldn't hope to get away with kidnaping and holding them hostage in their own home.

"Try me," was Duo's calm retort.

"Found it," Harry said, finally spotting not one, but two rolls of duct tape hidden under a box of broken toys that Dudley couldn't bring himself to throw away.

"We'll use them both," Duo said cheerfully, sparing a quick glance toward Harry's prizes. "Remember, Harry -wrists, ankles, and around the couch. The extra precaution isn't only to insure that they don't escape, but to make damn sure they'll be really uncomfortable when someone finds them.

"Now you three," Duo continued, addressing the Dursleys with a devilish smirk, "no twitching or fidgeting that would make Harry's task difficult. Yes, that means you, walrus man. I'm perfectly capable of shooting both of your kneecaps. God knows I won't be losing any sleep over it."

In retrospect, Harry had to admit to feeling a certain amount of satisfaction when he finally had the opportunity to wrap two layers of duct tape all the way around his uncle's head and mouth. He'd been trying for years to covertly shut the man up, though the Gryffindor never imagined he'd be achieving his dream because of something as muggle as duct tape.

Two rolls of duct tape later, Duo inspected the Dursleys makeshift cocoon with a satisfied nod. "They're firmly secured. Good job, Harry. Draco should be pleased with your skills for future kinky endeavors."

Harry blinked at the American, staring when the boy winced and tilted his head to the side in a brief flash of pain. "What?" ... What in the world did tying up the Dursleys have to do with Draco?

"The voices in my head are getting a little uppity," Duo said with a wide grin, finally sliding the gun back into the holster hidden under the back of his shirt. "C'mon. Let's get you packed and blow this popsicle stand."

"You're so cliche American," Harry thought he would mention offhandedly as he took to the stairs, Duo following close behind him.

"At least I make sense," Duo said glibly, grinning from ear to ear. "I've heard Cockney, Harry. It sounds like the prototype to Mad Libs."

Harry chuckled and shook his head. It was nice to know his friends never really changed.

----------

Harry's room was... acceptable. Well, the little bedroom was acceptable in that it would function wonderfully as a utility room of some sort. Almost all available shelf-space was taken up by broken toys and forgotten books; Duo suspected the items lining the shelves weren't even Harry's because the Gryffindor completely overlooked everything except for what was stashed in his trunk, his tiny wardrobe, and a cubby hole under his bed. Harry was easily throwing his meager possessions into his school trunk under the guidance of the tiny lamp that sat on the little working desk next to the bed, as it appeared that the overhead light had been forsaken as a lost cause years ago. The room was a bit stuffy, and it looked like Harry had been attempting to circulate fresh air in the room by keeping the window cracked.

"Don't bother," Harry mumbled when Duo squeezed passed him, clearly hoping to raise the window a little more. "Uncle Vernon fixed it so that it won't go up any higher. He didn't want Hedwig or any other owls coming as they pleased."

"No wonder Duster always looked disgruntled when he comes back from delivering a letter to Harry," Draco mused out loud. "I can't imagine he'd have any fun trying to squeeze through a slot that narrow."

"No offense, Harry," Duo said, jumping on the rickety bed so Harry could better move throughout the tiny room, "but your room feels like a storage closet."

Harry snorted.

"My cockpit is bigger than that," Heero grunted.

"Your what?" Draco yelped, agog. Harry turned and stared at Duo when the boy began to laugh helplessly on the bed.

"Cockpit. Noun. A compartment for the pilot and crew in an aircraft or spacecraft." Heero snorted, and Duo could just imagine him shaking his head at the blond Slytherin. "Draco, do I honestly look like the type of person who would make lewd, suggestive jokes?"

"Just making sure. That's such a... misleading word."

"Hn."

Still chuckling to himself, Duo launched off the bed and shot for the open door. When he reached the doorway, he paused and said lightly, "I've got to wash this crap off of my face. My pores feel like they've been clogged with grease. Don't women usually wear this stuff to cover up blemishes? It sort of defeats the purpose when this makeup stuff seems to cause them."

"Draco was right," Harry noted with an amused smile. "You have been spending too much time with him. He's the only man I know who complains about how silky smooth his skin is supposed to be."

"Hey..." It didn't take a genius to realize that Draco was pouting.

Duo preened outrageously, fluttering his eyelashes at Harry as he replied glibly, "He's just afraid I'll take his place as the world's snarkiest pretty rich kid."

"Keep dreaming, hamster boy."

With Harry's laughter echoing behind him, Duo made an immediate beeline for the bathroom at the end of the hall. He thoroughly scrubbed his face, and he found himself a bit irritated when the mascara and eyeliner smeared around his eyes and refused to come off. When only faint traces of darkness remained, Duo gave it up as a lost cause and immediately made use of what appeared to be Petunia Dursley's hairbrush.

He winced when the coarse brush caught a particularly nasty tangle. That was the problem with leaving his hair down for prolonged periods of time; inevitably, Duo would have to take the time to sit down and battle the numerous tangles that would accumulate, armed only with a hairbrush and sheer stubbornness.

After he conquered over the evil tangles, he swiftly swept his hair into its usual braid, only this time he took his typical hairstyle a little farther. He rolled the braid around his head and pinned it firmly into place with a few spare bobby-pins sitting on the tile counter top surrounding the sink. When Duo was absolutely sure his hair was secure, he reached into the left cup of his brazier and swiftly pulled on the two high-end latex gloves that were stored there.

He knelt on the ground, pulling the cabinet doors under the sink open to inspect the content.

"... What is he doing?"

"Exactly what he's supposed to do," Wufei replied to Draco's flat inquiry. "Duo is about to scrub every surface of that bathroom, especially around the sink and faucet. After finishing the bathroom, he's going to throw away the hairbrush and the wash cloth, take the trash downstairs, and level it in the kitchen. While there, he's going to be a good guest and scrub down the kitchen and, while he's at it, take the trash from there, as well. Then he's going to find a vacuum cleaner and some surface cleaners and wipe off the phone, the table the phone is sitting on, and vacuum the foyer for good measure. He's going to do the same in the living room."

"Duo can't leave a trace of himself behind," Quatre added helpfully. "One strand of hair, one partial finger print, even drops of sweat... Muggles have the technology and the knowhow to collect such evidence and analyze it to the point that, should Duo's hair or blood appear at any other crime scene, the authorities will actually be able to match the evidence from two different places.

"Duo wants to stay off the grid as much as possible. His DNA and fingerprints from a prior incident are already on record, but his crime would have to be on a much larger scale for anyone to gain access to his records. Permission to use those records to compare to any suspects would have to be granted by one person -the leader of the Preventers, Lady Une."

"Who eventually wants you five to become Preventers when you graduate Hogwarts," Draco said, a touch of understanding to his voice. "Badly enough that you're honorary Preventers already -you're just not getting paid yet. There's no way she would grant permission."

"It gets better," Trowa pointed out. "If someone were to go to the courts about the matter, the Vice-Foreign Minister Relena Dorlian would defend the rights to keep our records sealed. She's in a powerful position, and while many politicians don't like her approach to politics, few of them are willing to go against her on the matter. Too many people like her."

"Admirable," Draco said, clearly impressed. "You have a Vice-Foreign Minister, the head of the Preventer Organization, and the safety of puppies and Christmas on your side. Why do people like you always get the luck?"

"Karma?" Duo said lightly, finally tying off the trash bag after disposing of the hairbrush and the makeup stained wash cloth. He was placing the cleaners back in their proper place when something suddenly caught his eye.

"If you believe in spiritualism," Wufei said dryly. His tone was thoughtful when he added, "however, after getting used to the 'magic is real' scenario, I suppose I have a little more respect for religion as a whole."

"Only the Asian ones, I'm sure," Duo murmured, reaching out and taking the shiny black object from its resting place beside the sink. He considered it for a moment before sliding his thumb upwards.

The beard trimmer came to life in his hands.

"Duo," Quatre said warningly.

"What's that?" Draco piped up curiously. "What does that thing do? It looks like it does something marvelously devious, judging by how much hamster boy is admiring it."

Duo grinned evilly. "Shave and a haircut," he sang out, pulling the beard trimmer from its charger. "Two bits."

"It's never a straight answer with you, is it?" Draco said idly.

"Now I need glue, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, nuts, and a cherry," Duo said happily, whistling jauntily as he literally danced out of the bathroom, trash bag in hand. The American paused in the hallway before moon walking all the way to Harry's tiny bedroom, where it appeared that the boy was attempting to fit most of his belongings into a single trunk.

"Harry, do me a favor and clean your room," Duo said breezily.

"You want me to what?" the green-eyed Gryffindor asked, glancing over Duo's new look.

"Just trust me," Duo said, winking slowly. "Pay extra attention to anything you saw me touch. Oh, and you'll want to strip your bed and pack your sheets. Spotless, Harry. I'm counting on you!" The American proceeded to do an about face before once again moon-walking down the short hallway. He continued an ode to disco all the way down the stairs, pausing long enough to wave cheerfully at the Dursleys, who all froze in their struggles to escape their bonds as if they were five year olds caught doing something bad.

"I'll get to you three in a minute," Duo promised sweetly before twirling into the kitchen.

"Thank the spirits," Draco said airily. "I thought we were just going to leave them like that. I say, hamster boy -well done."

----------

Finally.

Harry let out a small huff of relief as he glanced around his room, inspecting every surface critically. He felt marginally better about having to save Aunt Petunia the trouble of fumigating any traces of him from the room when he'd heard Duo running the vacuum cleaner downstairs. Obviously, the boy had an ulterior reason for wanting Harry to clean his room; he suspected it would be something better to ask one of the others when he saw them next. Duo, while entirely honest, excelled in his life's goal to turn everything into a punch line while neglecting to offer a reason.

Though Duo's answer would probably be more entertaining.

The Gryffindor frowned, realizing belatedly that there was a distinct lack of sound coming from downstairs. He vaguely remembered hearing Duo's loud, cheerful humming and hadn't thought much of it until he realized: when Duo was quiet, he was obviously up to something. Something that was going to force Harry to shake his head in wonder.

Oh, God.

What did Duo do to the Dursleys?

----------

The voices in his head were strangely silent.

And then, "Heero?"

"Hn?"

"Would you be angry with me if I admit that I find your boyfriend extremely attractive right now?"

"... Only partially."

"Oh." Pause. "I can live with partially. Duo is so bloody hot right now..."

"... I agree."

More silence.

"Freaks," Wufei muttered, surprising an explosive laugh out of Duo, if only out of sheer amusement that Wufei couldn't find a more adequate term to describe Heero and Draco's deviant attraction to a vengeful Duo Maxwell.

The Dursleys seemed to tremble in fear of the supposed girl laughing maniacally for no other reason than her hedonistic desire to humiliate them. Honestly, they were staring at him like it couldn't possibly have been much worse. They obviously hadn't realized just how vindictive Duo Maxwell (a.k.a. Dana Kinsley) could be.

Duo grinned when he heard Harry's choke of incredulity. The American whirled around, skirt fluttering madly about his legs as he did a small, feminine curtsy with a giggle. "Look, Harry -I gave Mr. Dursley a haircut!"

And indeed he had. Vernon Dursley's hair was a thing of the past. Oh, the man had struggled as much as he could when he saw Duo coming at him with a beard trimmer and a manic grin, but it didn't take long for the walrus to settle down and admit defeat. "Chunks of hair missing here and there," Duo said nonchalantly as locks of the man's hair fell to his bulky shoulders, neck, and the back of the couch. "Aw, having a nasty little wizard in the house must irritate you something fierce, Mr. Dursley! My, you pull your hair out enough to make your scalp bleed. Naughty!" All of this was said in a sickeningly sweet falsetto. Now the man had an extremely short crewcut that accented his rapidly receding hairline. Duo had allowed the bush mustache to remain unharmed in hopes that it would give the man the same stature as Mr. Monopoly, but he was just as satisfied when he realized the man looked more like a walrus than ever.

He hadn't wanted to take the time to tear away the duct tape surrounding his mouth, anyway. That might have given Dursley a chance to say something stupid and piss Duo off again.

"I see that," Harry said dazedly. "And... I'm sorry, did you put glue in Aunt Petunia's hair?"

"I just wanted her outer appearance to match her inner appearance," Duo said loftily, waving a hand dismissively. With the aid of glue, Duo had stylized Petunia Dursley's hair in devilish horns, going as far as to shaping her bangs to create inverted horns. In his opinion, he'd done a marvelous job.

"... Ah. And... Dudley?"

Duo turned to consider his final masterpiece. Dudley Dursley had been reduced to a human ice cream sundae, without the ice cream. Chocolate syrup liberally covered the teenager's head, shoulders, and bound hands, followed by an enthusiastic layer of whipped cream, crushed nuts, rainbow-colored sprinkles, and a tiny cherry to top it all off.

"I wondered about the psychological response to being turned into a sundae," Duo replied dreamily. "There's a chance he'll be so emotionally scarred from being covered in the makings of a sundae that he'll actually refuse to eat them for the rest of his life. I'm doing him a favor, really."

"I see..." Finally, Harry the end of the trunk that he still held in his hands, shaking his head with a fond smile. "Never change."

"Don't you think I'd smell rather gamy after a while if I never changed? Then Draco would just have more to complain about. I swear, I can't win with you people."

That certainly got a laugh out of Harry. Proud of his accomplished goal, Duo dropped the bubbly-girl charade and raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Ready to go?"

"Yep," Harry said, pulling his wand and pointing it at his trunk.

"Let me do that," Duo said, removing his own wand from his sleeve and casting a shrinking charm on the trunk. "Even though we're seventeen, the Ministry of Magic still have you under magical surveillance. Any spell you would do would catch their attention. I, on the other hand, have taken advantage of Draco's astounding knowledge on how to get around the law. There's a spell on me and my wand that keeps me off the radar."

"Decades of avoiding getting caught would do that to a family," Harry said dryly, slipping his miniaturized trunk into his pocket.

"Decades? How small-scale. The Malfoys have been paying off government officials and tinkering around with dark magick for centuries," Draco boasted.

"Draco would like me to inform you that it's taken centuries for the Malfoys to protect their slimy underbellies from the authorities," Duo said sardonically. "You have to admit, the Malfoy Family does pretty good for getting away with hunting down and torturing muggles as a hobby." This, of course, was a deliberate jibe at the Dursleys, followed by a sly glance over his shoulder and an exaggerated wink.

"Draco?"

Duo laughed, pointing at his left eye. "You're on candid camera. Or, in this case, a specific scrying spell used mainly for wizarding espionage."

"Bet it's not legal," Harry almost sang, watching in amusement as Duo didn't bat an eyelid before making his swift reply.

"Useful as hell, though. Ah! One more thing."

The American turned to the Dursleys, a picture of innocence as he girlishly tilted his hat to the bound family. "I want to thank you so much for taking me into your home. Your hospitality was appreciated, and I mean that in the sincerest way possible." He then slowly glided to Dudley Dursley's side, a sultry smile on his lips as he added, "I especially want to thank you, Dudders. Why, what with the game you've got going on, I'm sure that the next time you come across a beautiful budding flower, you'll offer to pay first. I mean, that's the only way you could ever hope to get with anyone who is way out of your league."

Finally, as he hovered almost an inch away from the nervous boy's face, Duo moved slightly to the side and whispered only a scant inch from his ear, "You make me happy I'm not a girl. Truly."

For almost a full minute, Duo was afraid he had pushed the joke too far. Once the implications of Duo's words settled in, Dudley Dursley appeared as if he was going to be violently ill, which would have killed Duo's mood very quickly. The American had his doubts as to how hastily he could remove the duct tape wrapped entirely around the bulky teenager's head before Dudley gave up and forced himself to swallow the regurgitation, and the sight of that would have incited Duo to lose his dinner, too.

He shuddered. Ew.

Luckily, it didn't come to that.

After he was positive that the pig wouldn't make any undue messes, Duo pulled away and smiled winningly at Dudley. He didn't have to worry about the pig telling the authorities that Dana was a boy; that little fact would hurt his pride entirely too much to admit to anyone.

"Time to go," Duo trilled sweetly, going over and collecting the trash bags he'd sat near the door. He handed one of them to Harry.

"Hold on to that tightly, now," Duo reminded him primly. "We wouldn't want to lose it along the way." He especially didn't want to lose that particular bag, as it contained both the vacuum cleaner bag and the bullet Duo had painstakingly pulled from the plastered wall next to the fireplace mantel with the aid of tweezers he'd found going through the Dursleys' master bedroom.

He pulled his gun from its holster and offered for Harry to reach out and touch it. The Gryffindor laughed softly before saying, "The lot of you would chose to make a gun into a Portkey."

"Never leave home without it," Duo said cheerfully. "Get a grip, now. Mission accomplished."

The words spoken triggered the magic, and the two boys disappeared from Number 4 Privet Drive, leaving a spotless home and Papa Dursley, Mama Dursley, and Baby Dursley all tied up and stuck firmly to the couch. They wouldn't be found for another two days, when Vernon Dursley failed to show up for work bright and early on Monday morning. By that time, the perishable junk food that covered the Dursley son would have gone rancid, and the glue that spiked the Dursley wife's once perfect blonde hair would be thoroughly hardened and difficult to remove from every strand.

The British authorities would be baffled for a short time before someone stopped to really analyze the events that transpired, according to the flustered family.

"She comes in, all sweet as you can be," one officer would say, "Then she sits down and eats a nice dinner with the family before showing them an entirely different side to her. She has the nephew bind them and, while he's busy packing all of his belongings, proceeds to scrub the home spotless before shaving Mr. Dursley's head, using a whole bottle of kid's glue to sculpt Mrs. Dursley's hair, and turn the Dursley son into a sundae. She even went as far as to clean up the glass from the light fixtures and glasses that she trashed as a show of force. I can't decide if we're dealing with a childish juvenile or a criminal mastermind."

"Not a trace of so much as a single hair which, going by witness description, this girl had a lot of," his partner pointed out logically. "Trust me, mate -this bird is more professional than she first appears."

The detective shook his head in amazement. "Talk about Goldilocks going on a rampage."

TBC...

(1) Floccinaucinihilipilification. Noun. An act or instance of judging something to be worthless or trivial. (Example: Floccinaucinihilipilification is a stupidly difficult word to pronounce, and I can't see why anyone would sit around all day trying to introduce it into the English language. Tadaa -it's difficult to pronounce, therefore, I perceive it as something worthless. Floccinaucinihilipilification.)

(2) Not that Wufei has a problem with homosexuals; he's just probably feeling a little stifled by all of the romantic affection between the others. I know I get irritated when my friends and their husbands get all kissy-kissy around me. Watching someone grossly fondle my soul sisters... :shudders: Ew.

(3) I spent entirely too much time considering this, so you're just going to have to let me rant about my stupid reasoning. Yes, I know "bright red" blood seems to be a bit cliche, since we usually see blood as a dark crimson. However, when blood is smeared (as Vernon had done when he touched his head and his hand came away with blood; something Harry hadn't seen, so I didn't embellish, as the scene was from his point of view), it has a bright red appearance. Tada. Bright red. (... I really DO have entirely too much time on my hands...)

END NOTE: The last thing I want to do is go fanon and embellish the abuse Harry had to suffer with the Dursleys. There's no proof in canon that would indicate that the Dursleys are at all physically abusive to Harry, aside from Dudley's childhood bullying nonsense. However, I firmly believe that there have been instances where Petunia has lashed out at Harry before; in the Chamber of Secrets, Petunia took a swing at Harry's head with a frying pan. Harry instinctually dodged to blow, indicating that he was used to moving out of harms way when it came to his relatives. After the first swing, however, Petunia didn't pursue the matter.

I'm not trying to imply that Harry is beaten on a regular occasion or anything. It's possible that the Dursleys sometimes lash out at Harry when they're angry, and Vernon striking Harry is just one of the times the Gryffindor forgot to duck.

 

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