A/N: No beta, so all mistakes are my own. Some warnings: possibility of slash (if there is any romance for Harry it will be slash), possibility of mpreg, language, Dark!Harry, character death, Sort of Insane!Harry, Hufflepuff!Harry, and magical Dudley (wizard) and Petunia (squib).
The updates for this story will be very sporadic, so don't expect weekly updates.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
"I won't live with anymore freaks," the man yelled, his hand already posed to strike the child, who was being held protectively in his mother's arms.
"You aren't harming them," the woman hissed.
"No son of mine will be a freak," the man roared. "I won't allow this."
"He's not even two," the woman snapped. "He doesn't even know what's happening!"
"The Freak contaminated him. It's too late for this one, but once we get rid of both, we won't have to worry about them getting infected."
"He's your son!"
"Not anymore. Now he's just another freak."
"Being magical doesn't make him a freak, if it did, then I'm a freak too!" Petunia Dursley soothed the crying baby in her arms, hoping her nephew continued to sleep; she didn't want to add to Vernon's anger.
"You! You're a freak!" Vernon bellowed. "I should've known. You're entire family—there was always something odd about them. You let me touch you! You probably infected me too!"
Vernon stopped yelling, a pained look appearing on his face. His shocked, yet accusing stare was focused on Petunia as he grabbed his chest. He opened his mouth to spout some type of accusation, but before he could, his heart stopped, and Vernon Dursley was dead.
Petunia watched it all with an odd sense of detached realization. She just kept staring at the body of her husband, unable to believe that he had just died. The cries of her son pulled her out of her shock and she quickly made him a bottle, feeding him half of it as she made her way upstairs to lay him back in bed.
When she made it to the nursery she was relieved to find her nephew still sleeping. She stood there looking at the two boys, the causes of Vernon's anger, and couldn't help but to feel like a weight had been lifted. Now that Vernon was dead, they were safe, and that's all she cared about.
She turned and left; she had calls to make.
Once she had left the room Harry opened his eyes and smiled.
He had been woken up by screaming earlier and went to investigate. He had watched and listened from the stairs as his uncle had told his aunt that they could just kill him and his cousin and start over, that they could get rid of the freaks. Harry had been afraid that his aunt would agree, but when she hadn't, instead actually standing up for him and Dudley, he had been relieved.
He had known though that Uncle Vernon wouldn't stop, and when he started threatening Aunt Petunia, Harry had wished that Uncle Vernon would just die, knowing that then they would be safe from him.
He hadn't expected for it to actually work, and had rushed back to his bed, hoping Aunt Petunia didn't know he had been out of bed. He knew that he could never tell, then he would be in a lot of trouble for it, but he couldn't help but feel happy that his uncle wouldn't be able to say mean things to him anymore.
Aunt Petunia was happy too, Harry could tell.
So maybe Harry didn't do anything wrong? He didn't know, and didn't care. As long as his family was safe, that's all that mattered.
He fell asleep with a smile on his face.