Hey Guys, so this will be the first ever time I'm posting a fanfic... Hope you guy enjoy!


"Lily, he's here, grab Harry and Bastian and run."

"Step aside you foolish mudblood whore."

Green and red light, and then… darkness

This was all Harry could remember from his vague dreams, although Harry felt as if these dreams were important, it was almost as if these dreams meant something more. They did, but Harry just didn't know that yet.


Harry Potter was a… pretty average boy; he had blackish red hair, and wore the ugliest glasses that hid his shining emerald eyes. Harry also had a sort of "posh" look to him, if only he didn't dress up in rags that looked as if they were made for a person almost six times his weight and size, and the fact that he was severely abused and malnourished.

Harry Potter had never had a pleasant life, but it was all he was used to. He was used to being unloved, he was used to being starved and beaten, he was used to receiving nothing from his good for nothing relatives. Although he didn't realize it yet, Harry Potter was no ordinary person. Harry Potter was a legend, being the icon of many different races, the subject of many different prophecies, Harry Potter, was destined, to change this world.

Now Harry Potter's relatives were the foulest, most disgusting sort of people that ever graced this earth. Vernon Dursley, who was a huge obese man who weighed, must have been about, four hundred and fifty pounds, and he had a full head of greyish blonde hair, while his wife, Petunia Dursley, who was a skinny woman, with horse like features (No offense to all the horse lovers out there) and scruffy brown hair, now given the combination… Dudley Dursley was the worst of them all, he was a boy that, much like his father, was obese, and he weighed nearly one hundred and fifty pounds, and had blonde hair and he loved bullying people, too bad poor little Dudley wouldn't live long enough to be included in this story.

Maybe we should rewind this story a bit, and then you might understand it a little bit better. Harry James Potter was born on the 1st of August 1980 at exactly one minute passed twelve o'clock, being the youngest twin born to James Charlus and Lillian Lee Potter. Harry was immediately, since birth, second best to his brother, only because he wasn't the Heir of the family, but he would have been able to handle that, but after that fateful day… he lost it all.

Lord Thomas Marvolo Voldemort Riddle-Gaunt, self-proclaimed Dark Lord, had successfully broken through the wards on Potter Cottage on the 31st of October 1981, and thus permanently altered young Harry James Potter's life, where he set a series of acts into motion.

Harry grabbed the chain around his neck that held the crucifix that was dangling off his necklace in his hand and snapped it off his neck before throwing it onto the ground. He was done praying for a miracle, he was done waiting for a Good Samaritan to take him away from the Dursleys, and he was done trying to please any type of God or whoever… he was DONE.

Harry would always, since he was like four years old he would, on his birthday, wait until the early hours of dawn and pretend that an unknown relative had finally found him and he was missed, but unfortunately Harry had no such luck. He was pretty fucked, for lack of better wording.

Harry would dream that one day he would find a missing relative, well one that didn't come from the same line as the Dursleys, who would care for him and who would guide him… but what happens when Harry's hate turned into something else? One can only take so much and still be psychological fit before finally losing his cool.

Harry James Potter was now… dead… or would have been dead if he existed in the first place.


"He's such a demented little freak isn't he Vernon? Why don't you take him to be exorcised? Why did you say his parents left him, because they realized that he was a fucking good for nothing freak, or because they were good for nothing?"

The tension in the air was literally so thick that it would have been able to be cut with a knife… a butchers knife. There was a saying that went a little something like this; if you can't beat them, join them, and that was just what the Dursleys' would be doing… joining the rest of the filthy godforsaken muggles like them in the rightful place where they belong…

Dead…


Harry had finally had enough of their shit; he was finally done with them, once and for all. Harry had finally got the last push he needed, before he fell off the cliff… Harry crept out of his cupboard, door creaking softly, while he made his way to the all too familiar kitchen where Harry reached the island counter and opened the top drawer which contained all the knives. Harry took the biggest and sharpest knife he could find.

It was a three inch wide, five inch long, sharp butchers knife. Harry, knife in hand, started climbing the many stairs to the second floor, where he first made his way to his oh-so-lovely cousins room, where he took the key out of the backside of the door, and locked his cousin in his room, saving the best for last.

He then went to the guest room which housed Vernon whore of a sister, Marge Dursley, and her 'thorough bred' excuse for a dog, Ripper. Harry would love to hear her scream, but he wouldn't have enough time to get rid of his favorite uncle… Uncle Vernon was going to get special treatment; oh Harry was going to enjoy seeing that fat pig squeal and writhe in a pool of his own blood, a lot like Vernon did to Harry.


Petunia quickly shuffled off to 'freshen up' for Vernon after Vernon started telling her about his latest 'episode' with Harry. She excused herself before Vernon got to the 'juicy' parts. What she didn't know was, that Harry had other plans for her tonight…

Harry silently crept into the bathroom where Petunia was busy putting on her 'sexy' lacy underwear. Harry silently walked towards her back, before closing the door behind him, locking it.

"My, my, Petunia, surely Vernon can wait. After all… till death do we part and all. I'm sure I won't be the one to tear your union apart… I'll gladly send Vernon along shortly." Harry said in an emotionless voice, his eyes void of any emotion.

Petunia dropped her toothbrush and immediately swung around to face Harry. She turned white and chalky immediately. She knew that nature was sorting itself out… she knew that she wouldn't make it out of the bathroom. She knew that she was going to be slaughtered like the pig she was. That didn't mean that she wouldn't try to worm her way out of it though.

"H… Harry, after all we've done for you. Y… you would… wouldn't just KILL us, now would you? We gave you food from Dudley. We always tried to give you the best we could. Please don't kill me."

By now Petunia was already crying. Harry felt nothing, if a bit irritated by her pleading. Petunia had obviously never learnt that you couldn't change somebodies mind... when it was already made. Petunia set her destiny in stone the day she reluctantly took in her sister's unwanted scrap.

"Why, Petunia… if you tried, than I would never be the way I am today. I actually have to thank you and Vernon for the way I turned out. I'm actually quite glad that I'm not as weak minded as you. For that, I will kill you quick."

As Harry said that, he lunged for her throat with the knife in hand, and he struck her Carotid Artery, repeatedly stabbing her neck. He was covered in blood from head to toe, while Petunia was still breathing, unfortunately. But Harry had a better idea; he took the knife and sliced her throat from ear to ear. For his age, running away from Dudley had made him unbelievably fast and it had also made him somewhat unforgiving…

Harry waited, soaked in blood, until Petunia started jerking and the sparkle left her eyes, leaving stone cold, murky hazel eyes, before moving onto his next victim.

Marge Dursley.

Poor Ripper was about to get ripped…


Harry crept into Marge's room with a smile on his face; he was finally letting the beast go, the monster inside of him, his dark side, Harry was finally embracing his inner darkness and letting go of his inner demons. Harry was reclaiming his sanity… his way.

Knife in hand he approached Marge's bed and prodded her awake with the back-end of the knife;

"Wake up Margery, the Freak requests and audience with you."

Marge almost started to scream when Harry, in a fit of the limited magic he knew, cast a silencing spell on the room around them. If Harry wasn't feeling a slight insane at the moment he would have actually laughed at the look on Marge's face.

"Ah, I forgot to mention that nobody can hear you. You know what you always said; inbred pups and weak pups should be drowned… I think I should start with you, don't you think so Marge? Imagine a day when the world is rid of people like you. If there's something wrong with the bitch… than there's something wrong with the pup… now now now, I'll be sure to tell inky dinky little diddidinkums that his auntie-goo says goodbye, it's more than you deserve, maybe I should bury Ripper with you? Is that a good idea?"

"F… F… Freak! When I get out of here I will be letting Vernon know what you do, especially with his kind, generous heart-"

Harry abruptly interrupted Marge with roaring laughter; "Generous heart… maybe that should be the first thing I cut out." Harry said with a thoughtful look (or was it a look of utter insanity?) on his face.

Marge was on the verge of literally shitting herself, if it wasn't for the fact that she wouldn't let the freak get the satisfaction from watching her, a forty-two year old woman, have an accident. Harry didn't have much more time to waste on her so he was swift when he used magic to knock her down, where he started stabbing her on the top of the head, once Harry saw she was barely alive, he plunged the knife into her throat. Blood was pouring from her throat and her neck as a line of blood formed around her lips.

Harry then looked at the half conscious bulldog, before he put the blade just under the collar by the dogs throat, and slid the blade in, giving poor old Ripper, a quiet and peaceful death.


Harry bent and pulled the knife out of Rippers throat and wiped it clean on his, already, blood-soaked shirt. Three down… two to go. Harry was starting to get hasty so he decided to do Vernon next. Harry crept out of the late Marge Dursley's room, before unlocking Vernon and his late aunt's bedroom.

"Petty, is that you? I was starting to get worried about you-… what the fuck do you think you are doing here freak? Isn't it enough that we feed you, now we have to put up with your freakish behavior too? I never signed up for this, your freakish parents just chucked you here…"

"You are going to tell me every last thing you know about James and Lily Potter…"

"Or else what Freak?"

Harry pulled out the knife, which was still covered in Marge's and Ripper's blood mind you, and gave Vernon a cold, blood freezing, heart clenching smile.

"All that I know is…"