Harry stepped into the house and waited. A moment later Petunia rushed from somewhere to gather him into a hug. He had come to learn to just let her get these out. She seemed to be trying to make up for all the years she had missed. Luckily, the wandering hands and sneaking into his bed had stopped. He wasn't sure where that had come from. It was something he didn't want to have to deal with. He had more important things to do.
This upcoming year was when Wormtail ran back to his master. Somehow, the rat knew how to find Riddle, even though he had been a rat for more than ten years. Harry knew before the World Cup in a couple of years that Riddle would be in his fathers' mansion. Either Riddle was hiding out at the mansion currently or Wormtail knew his hiding spot. Sure, he couldn't be there right now.
Harry extricated himself from Petunia's hug. "I have another meeting in a couple of days that I have to do on the magical side of things."
"Thank you for telling me." Petunia stepped away to straighten up her dress. "How did Rook do out among people?"
Harry looked to find Rook curled up on Vernon's favorite chair. The two had entered into a battle over the comfy recliner. Harry smiled. Vernon tried to act angry, but Harry had caught his uncle tucking Rook in when the dog fell asleep in the chair. Now that he thought of it, the only time in his past life that Vernon seemed to perk up was when Ripper was around. The fact that his sister came with the dog was something he endured.
The thought caused mental whiplash. Aunt Marge was supposed to visit this summer. Blowing up at her, pun intended, had led to him spending time in Diagon Alley. Now, though, he had no idea. He shook the thought from his mind. There were bigger issues to focus on.
"I'm going to be doing some reading in my room." Harry called as he headed down the hall.
He settled onto his bed with a new spell book. With the blocks that Dumbledore put up gone, and the chunk of Riddle out of his head, he found that learning magic was so much easier. There were some things that he was re-learning, but even those just seemed to click. Unfortunately, he could feel that he wasn't as powerful as his older self. He was probably more powerful than most of the students at Hogwarts, even the seventh years, but he couldn't touch Voldemort or Dumbledore yet.
Harry put the thought from his mind and turned his focus to this upcoming year. Riddle was still a specter. At some point between now and next summer he gained a quasi-body and took up residence in the Riddle Mansion. Crouch Jr would also escape shortly after the World Cup.
It felt like everything wasn't going to actually happen until next year. With Sirius safely settled in as Rook there wouldn't nearly be as much excitement. Except for the Dementors.
Harry groaned. He had forgotten about them. The Patronus spell was great at chasing them away and warding them off. Last time he was able to drive off a sizable number, with his power increase he could probably push out even more.
Hermione, the one from his old life, had theorized that Dementors, while creatures, were closely related to the undead than ghosts. Somewhere between a poltergeist and a revenant with a bit of bogart. Unlike popular media, the undead were a rather limited bunch. Ghosts that came in a variety of strength and lasting intent. Vampires weren't actually dead, it was a transformation similar to a werewolf, but without the transition back. Dementors though, they were tricky. There were many unproven rumors on how to kill them, but nothing concrete.
The only thing that Harry could think of was creating his own spell. He wanted something that would hurt them, something that would make them fear him. Killing them was the ultimate goal. In his previous life they had gone rogue more than a few times, even after Voldemort had been defeated.
Expecto Patronum. Harry rolled the spell around in his head.
Roughly translated 'I expect a guardian' from Latin. Most modern-day spells used a variation of Latin in the incantation. They weren't always direct translations as they had changed over the years. In truth, the Latin wasn't important. It was the intent and the focus put into the words that guided the magic into a spell. Using Latin just made it feel more magical. Speaking the words backwards, rhyming, or a chant worked just as well.
Harry didn't want a guardian; he wanted a warrior. Better yet, he wanted to be the warrior. Diffindo was the Severing Charm, which could work if he could figure out how to target ghostly targets. Sectumsempra was a possibility as well. Then there was Reducto, which could turn things to ash or mist. That sounded most promising. Focusing it on a Dementor, though, that was the trick of it. He couldn't practice the spells now; his wand still had the Underage Magic trace on it. That and there weren't any Dementors around to try it out on.
"Yet another thing I have to wait to see." Harry grumbled.
He put his book away in the trunk and stretched out on his bed. There had to be something he could do about Wormtail this year that wouldn't alter the timeline too much. On top of that, there were still a few Horcrux that he needed to deal with. Now that he thought about it, this was all just the tip of the iceberg. Sure, Riddle was a priority, but the blame for the war didn't rest solely on his shoulders. Killing him early wouldn't slow things down and remove a very dangerous threat. His followers wouldn't just disappear without him to guide them. A good portion of his old life was dealing with Death Eaters that were all too happy to continue on without Riddle around.
Harry sighed. With the knowledge from his old life, he could work down a list of targets. The element of surprise would be on his side. It would me highly likely that their security wouldn't be as powerful.
"Harry Potter, sir." Dobby said in a loud voice.
Harry sat up. "Yes?"
"Dobby has been calling you." The elf tapped his foot. "Dinner is ready."
"I was lost in thought." Harry slid off the bed.
"Lost in a nap." Dobby giggled.
"That too." Harry yawned. "I have a lot on my mind."