by: Insanitarium ------
It was early morning on a sticky summer's day as one Harry Potter groggily pulled himself away from his sweatsoaked sheets and staggered to the Dursley household's shower. As the hot water cascaded down his lithe, nude body he reflected upon the events of the past school year. His mentor and headmaster Albus Dumbledore had experienced a death befitting a pauper, without the pomp or drama befitting a man of his stature. A bit anti-climactic, really. His quiet contemplation was interupted, however, when the shower surrounding him exploded into a cloud of dust and porcelain shards. Harry flew onto the floor, dazed and confused. Coughing from the probably toxic cloud of bathroom dust, Harry only half-noticed when the tall, emaciated form that was the DARK LORD VOLDEMORT emerged from the debris.
"Greetings, Harry Potter!" said the Dark Lord. "I'm going to do now what I should have-"
At that very moment, Vernon Dursley burst into the room.
"Ruin my bathroom, will you, you freak!" he shouted at noone in particular. Lifting the Dark Lord above his head, he yanked mightily with both of his meaty arms, rending the apparently feeble Dark Lord asunder. His entrails and blood rained down upon the muggle like a slushy rain of blood and entrails, which they were. Harry gaped at his uncle, stammering dumbly.
"B-b-but o-only I c-c-c-could kill h-him!" he stuttered out. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but was interrupted as Uncle Vernon severed his head from his body with a length of kitestring he happened to have upon his person.
"That'll learn you, freeloading freak!" said a satiated Vernon Dursley. The savior of the wizarding world then defecated verily upon the remains of the two greatest wizards of their age. Then he went to work as if nothing had happened.
THE END