Tragically enough I don't own the rights to Harry Potter, I wish I did but I don't. All the rights belong to JK Rowling so if I make any money out of this im fucked, but I don't so im safe. Anyways enjoy.
Keeping it Real.
Prologue:
A heavy rain assaulted the residents of little whinging, what had started as a slight drizzle earlier in the day had soon turned into torrential rainstorm. Highly unusual weather for mid august.
A young man slowly walked through the downpour ignoring the freezing rain running down the back of his neck and the gale winds that assaulted his baggy, mismatched clothes.
His hands shoved deep into his pockets Harry Potters mind continually played over the events of the tragic night a couple of weeks ago when he and his friends had charged into a trap in the ministry. The memory brought a tear to his eyes and he mentally kicked himself for being so stupid. If it wasn't for his reckless foolishness Sirius would still be alive. It was his fault.
Angrily kicking a stone that lay in his path Harry sniffed deeply and rubbed his nose with his sleeve. The new business car that sat proudly on the Dursleys driveways was blaring its car alarm loudly, a new dent was visible in the right rear passenger door where Harry's stone had made contact.
Standing deadly still on the gravel driveway Harry waited inevitably for the front door to be thrown open his red faced uncle to come striding out to see what why his cars alarm was going off. If he hadn't been so depressed Harry would have been dreading the conflict with his uncle but as it was he really couldn't bring himself to care.
After 5 minutes of standing in the cold rain curiosity got the better of the aging teenager and he slowly made his way up to the front of the house.
Only then did Harry notice that the front door was ever so slightly open. Why would the front door be left open? Surely the hallway would be full of water and all the heat would have escaped the house, his aunt Petunia would throw a fit.
Harry pushed on the white plastic of the door, which swung open further allowing him access into the house. The distinct smell of bonfire met his nostrils. Confused Harry took a deep whiff of air, yes that was defiantly burning wood but he could also smell burning meat.
Coughing Harry shook his head to get the distracting smell out of his sinuses.
"Aunt Petunia! What's that smell?" Harry yelled into the house. His only answer was an eerie silence. The house was far too quiet. Dudley was always making some loud noise of another, be it playing loud rap music or killing things on his games consoles. Even if he was out, Uncle Vernon would be making a lot of noise, either playing with his power tools or yelling at some poor unfortunate down the phone.
Fear struck Harry like a cold blade in the heart. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his hands started shaking uncontrollably.
Forcing himself to cross the hallway he pushed open the living room door.
Shards of wood littered the floor and broken glass was everywhere. Carefully walking into the room Harry slowly surveyed what had once been a dangerously clean front room.
Wood chippings and broken glass crunched noisily under his trainer as a deathly pale Harry Potter made his way into the centre of the room. However he completely ignored the disarray that had once been the furniture and ornaments of the family room. His attention focused on the 3 frightfully disfigured figures that lay amongst the mess. Dead!
The thin stick figure that was once Petunia Dursley was the least damaged carcass, she had simply been disembowelled but Harry was willing to guess that she had been raped several times before she was killed.
The largest figure evidently uncle Vernon lay on what looked like the remains of the coffee table. A large cut ran down his face, his left eyeball had been ruptured and its remains hung down the side of his face. His jaw was crushed and several teeth were missing from his mouth. The fat and flesh from around his throat was missing, all that really remained of his neck was his spine, which jutted at an awkward angle poking him in his fatty chin and forcing his head to the side. His stomach and chest had been obviously been the main focus of the murderers attention, the layers of skin and fat that had made up the bulk of his uncle had been peeled away like an orange.
Dudley Dursley was none better off. It looked like the killers had made a deep incision where his belly button was and then they had individually summoned all of the boys organs out individually, from the look of contorted pain that graced the boys face it had been an incredibly slow and painful time until death took hold. Evidently skilled work.
Retching Harry's legs gave way underneath him and he slid to the floor oblivious to the pain shards glass forcing their way into his flesh. A sticky sweat formed on his skin and Harry closed his eyes tight unable to bare looking at the disfigured forms of his relatives for a moment longer. The last of his family had been murdered! He could however still smell them. The scent that he had mistaken for burning meat had been his cousin's carcass, which had branded and burned, hopefully after he had died.
Gulping heavily Harry opened his eyes and was once again assaulted by the view.
Casting a more critical eye in the scene Harry tried to gather some idea of what had happened here even though it was obviously been a Deatheater attack. On the floor next to his aunts body Harry noticed that something had been written in the unfortunate woman's blood.
You're next Potter!
Startled Harry quickly picked himself up off the floor, leaning on the wall for support he stumbled quickly for the kitchen door. Panicked and scared he fled out into the pouring rain and started running, ignoring the pain in his cut legs he ran. Not caring that he didn't know where he was going he simply fled the scene of his family's massacre and ran as far and fast as he could out of Little Whinging without looking back.