So this is actually a very big and slow project I am working on. I hope you all enjoy it because I can assure you that I will enjoy writing it. I don't own Harry Potter. Nor am I making any money off of this story.

Wind clapped against his face and it made his nose sting. Harry opened his eyes to see that he was fifty feet higher off the ground that what he usually was. He looked behind him to see what was helping him to fly. Large black wings full of feathers jutted out of his back. He felt something stir inside of him. Harry did something he would have never thought to do in real life. He flew down and touched the soft grass with his hands. He was free. Private Drive was nowhere in his view. He had escaped from the evil clutches of Aunt Petunia.

"I'm free!" Harry yelled out to the open world. It was everything he could have ever wished for. Then it was suddenly cut short as the horrid voice entered his dream...

"Freak! Get up! Time to make us breakfast!"

The shrieking voice roused Harry from his good dream. It was perhaps the first one in such a long time. It had been him...flying with big black wings. He had never felt such freedom in his entire life. Freedom felt absolutely amazing.

Once again the anorexic cow shouted through his door and into his beloved cupboard. Aunt Petunia just didn't know when to shut her trap in the mornings. Harry shook his head at such was going on with his head this morning. First, he dreamt of the silly concept called 'freedom'. Then he was bad-mouthing Aunt Petunia.

"Did you not hear your Aunt boy?" Compared to Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon was intimidating but he was a whole lot different. He went to work at six-thirty in the morning without speaking a word to Harry and then he came home at six-thirty and took a small two hour nap. He would wake up and eat the dinner Harry made and on a good day, he would compliment it.

"I am just getting dressed Uncle Vernon, I just have to slip on some shoes."

Uncle Vernon made no comment and Harry knew that Uncle did not care. He was only asking because the screecher told him to.

After slipping on his sneakers he walked towards the kitchen and he immediately went to the kitchen. A long white piece of paper was stuck to it.

Freak remeber to do your chores or else no food for a week.

1. Mow the garden to exactly three centimeters.

2. Pull the weeds from the garden and make sure not to pull any of the white daisies.

3. Clean out the garage.

4. Clean Dudley's room.

5. Sweep the porch.

6. Clean out fridge.

Harry crumpled the list and threw it into the trashcan. Today's list wasn't as bad. He would do the cleaning parts first, then the outside. If he did it quick enough, he would have at least three hours of time to sleep and regain his energy.

- Cleaning out the garage-

Harry knelt down next to the dusty old scrap metal and began to sort rusty from shiny. Uncle Vernon sold a lot of the good metal. It took around thirty minutes to do. He glanced at the rusted metal and carefully picked some of it up. He walked outside of the garage and next to their neighbor's fence.

The Smiths were a family of eight and they were hoarders. Harry and them had a deal, every five pounds of stuff he gave to them they would give him two pounds. So far, he had around twenty pounds under one of the loose stair boards. If he ever had a getaway plan, it would be that money.

Harry finished up the garage and moved on to his second chore.

-Cleaning Dudley's room-

Harry literally had to plug his nose at the awful stench that came from his cousin's room. He opened the door and tried not to gag as the nose plug's power was not strong enough to keep out the smell.

"What has Dudley been doing in here?"

Harry saw the naughty magazines hidden clumsily underneath Dudley's pillow. Now Harry knew what Dudley had been doing. Of course that wasn't the worst part. There was trash piled on top of trash. Clothes filled up half the room. Harry would scrub his hands with bleach later. He hesitantly picked at the rubbish. Around one hour later Harry had grabbed a random t-shirt off of the pile and gasped in horror at the little body in front of him.

Two weeks ago Dudley had asked for a little kitten. Nine days ago, that can was never seen again, until now. Harry had just found it. It's silver fur had been pressed down and it looked like it had been smushed to death. Knowing Dudley had probably sat on it and killed it. He then hid it thinking that no one would want to touch his room.

A few tears leaked from the emerald orbs attached to Harry's face. He gently picked up the corpse of little Ash and cradled it to his chest. He walked back outside and sat Ash on the ground. He went inside the garage and grabbed a shovel. He went to the single oak tree and started to dig at the base of it.

Until the hole was around two feet deep did Harry stop digging. He picked up ash and sat him down inside the grave. Harry ran to the garden and specifically picked the white daisies and threw them all over Ash the cat.

He got the shovel again and put the dirt back into place. He knelt next to the pile and wept until his eyes were bloodshot. How could someone be so heartless?

A car pulled into the Dursley driveway. It was the bitch. He could hear the clicks on her heels as they pushed into the Earth. He wanted her to fall and break something for letting her son become such a horrible creature.

It seemed like some god above heard his prayers and the sound of the bitch crying out as she fell on top of her arm brought some sort of pleasing satisfaction to Harry. The emotion was quickly hidden away as he mentally hurt himself for having such freakish thoughts.

He did something that was nothing like himself and he pullec her up by her broken arm. She yelped in pain and roared,"Freak! What the hell is wrong with you!"

He dropped her arm and whimpered," I am so sorry Aunt Petunia! I don't know what came over me!" Harry was going to cry again. He had no clue what was happening to him.

All he knew was that some dark part of him liked it. The darkness whirled itself into his mind screaming," She and her son are murderers! Think of Ash. If you let her get away, then you become a murderer as well."

He watched her whimper and moan about how horrible her life was. Her arm had barely swollen. It probably wasn't broken, maybe fractured. She was able to dial the hospital's number in the telephone. So it couldn't have been too bad.

He watched as the ambulance came and took Aunt Petunia away. The last thing she said to him was,"When I get back, we'll talk about your punishment."

Harry started to see red after that. At the end of the day, he decided that he wouldn't be treated like scum any longer. He would become the best to vanquish the true scum of the Earth. People like Aunt Petunia.

Did anyone like it? I worked rather hard on it. I see all these good Petunia and Dudley fanfictions and I decided why not do the opposite?