Harry looked down at his plate, only to see one piece of burnt toast and a small strip of bacon. It was his thirteenth birthday, and he should have been thankful that his toast was only partially burnt today. He cut off a piece of the bacon and stuck it in his mouth, only to contort his face.
"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Uncle Vernon. "Can't stomach some raw bacon?"
"Mum, you make such great bacon!" chimed Dudley, drool hanging from his chin as he stuck the fifth piece of a well-cooked bacon strip into the cave he called a mouth. "Oh Harry, stop being a baby."
"I might be a baby, but at least I'm not some huge pig," muttered Harry under his breath.
"What was that?" Vernon lifted up his head. "Care to repeat that?"
"I said I would enjoy a huge fig," said Harry, using a knife to scrape off the black off his toast.
"Spoiled kid," muttered Vernon, taking up his newspaper. "Figs, hah! Always wanting more…"
"Harry, you just can't be satisfied with what you already have, can you?" Dudley shook his head, turning around to see his mother at the stove. "Mummy, can I have another strip of bacon?"
"Oh, and Harry," said Vernon, stroking his moustache. "Your aunt and I will be out shopping for the day. When we come back, I expect the entire kitchen to be cleaned, along with the family rooms and living rooms. Oh, and scrub the toilets while you're at it. Do I make myself clear?"
Harry nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing from being treated as sub-human yet again.
"Dudley will be going to the movies all day, so there will be nobody to interrupt you," smiled Vernon, giving his son several bills and coins. "Here's one hundred pounds, son."
"He's probably better off losing a hundred pounds," Harry mumbled, earning several glares.
"I beg your pardon?" asked Dudley, open-mouthed.
"I said you need to lose weight, you amorphous sack of fat," said Harry, his mood worsening.
"Mummy, do something!" squealed Dudley, pointing at Harry. "He called me fat!"
"How dare you!" gasped Petunia. Vernon shook his finger in a rage.
"After all we've done for you!" yelled Vernon, his face redder than before. "Apologize to him!"
"I'm sorry, Dudley…" Harry said, gritting. "… For the toilet that has to bear your weight."
Dudley's jaw dropped even further, and he looked as if he was going to cry.
"Now, you've done it!" Vernon said, getting up from his chair. "Now you've made me mad! I thought you'd show some decency to us for taking you in after they died… I thought you'd be kind to our family after yours wasted away… your family… those worthless idiots you called your parents!"
"You bastard!" roared Harry, lunging forward and smashing his body into Vernon's belly. The large man pushed Harry off and threw him on the floor. The boy landed hard on his side and grunted before getting up. Harry's face was steaming.
"Think you can hurt me, you son of a witch-bitch?" challenged Vernon. Dudley watched, scared, as he reached for another strip of bacon. With a roar, Harry grabbed Dudley's hand and smashed his free fist into the fat boy's face. Dudley yelped as he held his bleeding lip.
"Bonus Twistus!" yelled Harry, his hand still gripping Dudley's wrist. Dudley began to shriek in pain as the bones in his wrist began to twist clockwise in a full circle. The tendons snapped, and the bones freed themselves from their normal arrangement. Excruciating pain shot up Dudley's arm, and the boy retreated backwards and fell to the floor, rolling around in tears.
"I'll finish with you later," spat Harry, turning towards a shocked Vernon. "You think I'm the problem? Look at you and your son, you fat bastards! When you know there are thousands of children starving on Earth, you take the freedom to overstuff yourself with food. You're so narrow minded that you can't properly feed a kid in your own house!"
"Why, you!" roared Vernon, charging Harry. The boy stood still, waiting until his uncle got close enough. Just as the large man was about to attack, Harry reached his hand out, causing the metal toaster oven on the counter to hurtle towards his uncle and smash into his forehead. Vernon collapsed unconscious and bleeding to the floor, and Petunia gasped as she grabbed her chest with her hand.
"A witch-bitch, you called me?" challenged Harry, lifting the large man up via a levitation spell. With a heave, he chucked Vernon right into the large, kitchen window. The window shattered upon impact, sending shards of sharp glass into Vernon's face as his body landed hard on the patio outside.
"Why waste all that fat in your body, Uncle Vernon…" Harry said. "…when I can watch it burn?"
Extending his arm out, he muttered a spell that he had learned in a Dark Arts book. Immediately, a stream of blazing fire shot forth from his hand and dug itself right into Vernon's back, soon sending his entire body up in flames. Dudley and Petunia had watched everything in shock, unable to scream.
Suddenly, the figure of Albus Dumbledore appeared in front of Harry.
"Harry, what are you doing?!" he demanded angrily. "Use of magic is forbidden with Muggles!"
"But, Professor Dumbledore," Harry pointed at Dudley. "These are the Dursleys!"
Dumbledore said nothing, turning to look at the ashen-faced kid and his petrified mother.
"Do you really think a piece of trash like that deserves to live?" asked Harry, his voice firm as he pointed to Dudley. "Especially when he's eating food that starving kids, who would make themselves hundreds of times more useful, beg for? Did you see this worthless shit do anything useful in his entire life besides break records for World's Fattest Kid or Most Useless Fuck?"
"Well, if you put it that way…" paused Dumbledore, thinking. "Carry on."
Dumbledore faded away, and Dudley let out a squeal as Harry approached.
"Don't you touch my son!" shrieked Petunia, charging Harry with a butcher knife. Harry smiled.
"Slippery Floorus!" said Harry, and the floor in front of Petunia suddenly became slippery.
"Oh no!" she yelped, her body falling forward with the knife in her hand. She looked in horror as she was falling to the floor. Dudley's face was right in the knife's path. Harry smiled as the knife turned vertically such that the tip of the blade pointed directly to Dudley's throat. Dudley's eyes bulged as he saw the blade get closer and closer…
"Stoppus Knifus!" said Harry, and the tip of the razor sharp knife stopped just four inches in the air just above Dudley's throat. Dudley tried to move, but his weight was too much to move. He lay there helplessly as his mother watched weakly from the floor.
"Liftus Fat-Bastardus," said Harry, and Dudley gasped as he felt himself being slowly… oh, ever so slowly… being lifted from the ground. Even Harry had a difficult time, given Dudley's weight, but he managed to slowly lift up the pudgy (to say the least) boy. Dudley's eyes grow as he saw his throat getting closer to the tip of the hovering knife. Soon the gap was four inches… three inches… one inch…
Dudley shrieked as the knife penetrated his skin, but it didn't go further. It was a superficial cut.
"Skin him!" commanded Harry, and thunder roared. Dudley shrieked as the knife slashed his skin all across and all around his body, left and right, up and down. He felt his blood leak to the ground, and the large fat cells in his body began to drip out.
"Certainly beats the price of a liposuction!" said Harry. "Now you know what a real pig feels like when it's cut up so that you can eat your sixty pieces of bacon a day, you bag of lard!"
Dudley screamed in pain.
"Now, for the finale," said Harry, making a gesture through his wand. Petunia shrieked as Dudley was lifted through the broken patio door and was shot up into the air.
"What did you do to him!" she demanded, unable to get up from her hurt body.
"He's going to be the next atomic bomb," announced Harry. "Dropped from six thousand feet."
Dudley shrieked as he saw the ground get farther and farther away. Suddenly he stopped.
"Drop the whale!" roared Harry in excitement. Immediately, Dudley began to free-fall.
"NOOOOO!!!!" shrieked Petunia, watching her son smash into the ground and explode into hundreds of unrecognizable bloody fragments.
"Fifty points for Gryffindor!" Dumbledore's disembodied voice echoed through the air.
"You killed Dudley!" Petunia cried, tears streaming from her face. "You killed my Dudley!"
"Yep, you have my condolences," said Harry, sitting back down at the dining table and reaching for a strip of cooked bacon. "Wow, Aunt Petunia, this is good. You're not a bad cook."
"You… killed…" she cried, her vision turning to blackness as Harry continued his breakfast.
"Now, this…" he smiled, biting into a tasty sausage. "… is what I call a birthday!"
The End