So not only do I heal faster than someone with my diet and general health should, but I heal faster than anyone should! It's not perfect like that comic book character what's his name, Wolverine? Harry had seen that comic book occasionally among Dudley's collection. His doesn't leave scars, but this does. My, my healing factor I suppose, it just keeps me alive and relatively whole. But, but how, why?
Those were the thoughts that kept ringing in his head as Harry made his way back to the Dursleys. Petunia met him at the door, grabbing his shoulder firmly was the doors closed. "It's about time you came home! Dinner time's barely an hour away and you haven't even started, get cooking!" She growled, pushing him towards the kitchen then going back to her favorite pastime of spying on her neighbors.
As Harry entered the kitchen he heard her mutter. "That's the same mailman that came by yesterday, and he's not the normal one assigned here either, I wonder… that would be such a scandal!"
Harry shook his head sadly then put what he just heard out of his mind as he quickly fell into the routine of fixing one of the Dursleys' huge dinners. He was even able to sneak some for himself since Petunia was the only one at home and she was busy staring out the window trying to see what was going on behind the curtains next-door, not having noticed that the mailman had come and gone long since.
Dudley came home soon after that but headed up to his room without bothering Harry. He knew that if he did bother Harry when he was cooking the food would be late, and if there was one thing that Dudley took seriously it was food.
A few minutes later Vernon was home and Harry quickly made his way out of the kitchen saying "dinners on the table." With that he rushed over to his cupboard opening and closing the door quickly once he was inside.
Vernon glared after him then shook his head, muttered "Freak", and made his way over to the table, where a heavy steak and kidney pie waited, along with some garlic bread sticks.
"He's not the only one." Petunia said, shaking her head as she to set down. "I think Mrs. Cripps next-door might be having an affair!"
In his cupboard Harry took out the food he'd grabbed, several bits sticks, as well as a pen he had stolen from the small table next to the kitchen door that held the phone and a few books. Pulling his small incredibly tattered bookbag out, he turned to a precious page of the one notebook he had, which had to last him all of his classes all year-long, and wrote down in very tiny scribbles what he had discovered.
He made a note of putting down the name of the book he had looked up the information on healing down as well since it might prove helpful in the future. Then in the light of the one sparking overhead light that was in the cupboard he leaned against the wall of his cupboard and said aloud "What else? Think, think like a scientist conducting an experiment, like the older boys do, taking note of changes in their plants."
For a moment Harry couldn't think of anything, and scrubbed his hands through his hair irritably. Then he pulled them away gasped."My hair, that's it!"
Petunia had been forced to give him a haircut before this school year began because the first form kids were going to have photos taken and she refused to let him have a photo taken with his normal messy hair. Not because she cared what he looked like, but because she worried what people would think of her and her family.
It'd been horrible, a misshapen thing with half of his head almost sheared off and the other half just a little longer. But the next day when Harry woke up to go to school, his hair had grown back to its normal disheveled appearance. Petunia had ranted and raved about it, but thankfully Vernon had already left for the day for an early-morning meeting. He'd also come home in a good mood, and Harry only had taken a few light slaps upside the head after school from Petunia.
"But I couldn't control that, and I didn't control the teleportation either." After a few moments thinking about that he thought to himself: Maybe that's because I didn't know about them? Now that I do can I control it?
Harry decided to see if he could control his hair first figuring that would be less dangerous. He could all too easily remember the fear that he felt hanging onto the chimney as he stared down at the alley all that way below him.
He waited, breathless with anticipation and eagerness while the Dursleys finished their meal then watched television for a few hours before trooping off to bed one after another. As usual Petunia rapped on the door to his cupboard shouting "the dishes better be done before I wake up tomorrow Potter!"
For some reason when she said Harry's last name, she put as much vitriol in the word as Vernon or Dudley could the word 'freak' at their worst. Harry had no idea why that was, nor any inclination to ask. "Yes, Aunt Petunia." he replied simply, politely as always.
He heard a sniff then listened as she followed her husband up the stairs above him, the creaking of the steps under Vernon's weight almost drowning out the noise of her own passage. Then he moved out of the cupboard and into the kitchen, diligently doing the work that Petunia had ordered him to do. After that and feeling very daring, he made his way back towards his cupboard, then closed the door, but remained outside.
He waited there in the dark of the hallway breathless at this little bit of rebellion as the noise above subsided slowly, Vernon and Dudley falling asleep. Petunia would remain awake reading her fashion magazines for a few minutes before turning in. It was the same every night, staid and above all normal, just the way the Dursleys like it.