The day was absolutely spectacular.
The sun was out, blue skies all around with not a cloud in sight, birds chirping and a light summer breeze.
It was completely perfect — Harry couldn't think of a better day for a funeral.
He had made his way in and sat in the first row; after all, he was family.
Harry hid his grin as he stared at the placard beside the overly large casket.
Celebrating the life of Vernon Dursley.
A hard worker and family man.
He will be missed.
What a load of bollocks! A hard worker? The only work Vernon had ever done was the struggle to get up off the sofa every night. A family man? Only the parts of his family that looked good in a picture; otherwise, they might as well have not existed.
Looking around him, he could see all the rest of the family that had suddenly come out of the woodworks now that there was cash to claim. Pity for them, very soon the Dursleys were about to be officially bankrupt, as Harry claimed back every penny they had ever taken from him.
Oh, well, at least they can live in hope for the moment.
Seated close to him were all the rest of the immediate family. They obviously knew of the rumours told by Vernon as shown by all the seats near him left clear. But Harry preferred it that way; it was easier to hide the snickering and grins.
As the clock struck midday, the priest stepped forward to the lectern.
Harry grinned — let the show begin.
The priest began to speak the prewritten obituary that had been so carefully curated by the family. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the life and death of Vernon Dursley. A hardworking family man who was taken from us too soon. We mourn as one as we accept that if he had eaten a few less fry-ups and got off his arse, then he might not have had that heart attack."
Obviously, it was such a shame that Harry had switched out the original for his own.
He could hear the gasps from the mourners around him, yet when none spoke up, Harry watched in delight as the priest swallowed nervously and continued.
"Veron Dursely was always a family man who loved his horseneck wife and piggish son dearly."
A shriek stopped the priest as Petunia finally put a stop to the ongoing obituary. Harry was a bit disappointed; it hadn't even got into the good bits yet.
He watched as Petunia got up and spoke in sharp tones to the very apologetic priest before they apparently decided to move on to the individual speeches. Petunia sat down once more as the poor priest pulled out a folded list of names who had reserved a spot.
"Petunia Dursley."
Harry had to hold in the snickers as Petunia spoke in her shrill voice on how Vernon was a strong man who had loved them until the end where he had suffered from an unforeseen heart problem.
The only thing unforeseen had been his neck.
The rest of the speeches went on and on. Harry was not ashamed to admit he had had a good nap through most of them; it turned out the monotonous voices worked wonders as white noise.
"Harry Potter."
Harry nearly fell off the chair when his name was announced. So soon? He was prepared either way.
He made his way to the lectern where he stood gazing out to the sea of faces who all wore some degree of shock, horror or utter outrage as they looked at him.
It was his time to shine.
"Hem-hem." Umbridge had taught him well. "I stand in front of you today as the nephew of the deceased." He looked down, arms clasped in front of him, looking the epitome of a distraught grieving young man.
"May he forever rot in hell."
He looked up as gasps of outrage spread like a Mexican wave (that rivalled anything a football stadium could produce) through the crowd. Many were still too busy in the immediate shock to do more than shout, he took the chance to shrug off his black mourning jacket to reveal the t-shirt underneath.
It was a personalised one that had cost him a pretty penny, but it was one hundred percent worth it in his opinion. It depicted a fat whale-like man, closely resembling Vernon, being transported in his bursting casket via sack barrow to the edge of a cliff and being shoved off, where below were the crashing fiery waves of an artistic illustration of Hell. Above the image was 'Yeet' written boldly in comic sans and the rainbow tie-dye background of the shirt really pulled it all together.
Harry stood at the lectern as the shouts grew louder. Silently, he raised his arms and watched in fascination as the crowd grew silent. Huh, Dumbledore's trick worked, after all.
"I just really wanted to stand up here in front of all of you to show you who this whale really was. What can I say about him? He hated everyone who wasn't his definition of normal? He was stuck in a dead-end job? He ate like the whale he was and this heart attack was seen a mile away?"
Harry grinned as the crowd remained silent, no one standing up to him.
"Or how about I share the really sordid details of his life? Since he's not here to try and claim them as lies told by a deranged boy?"
He saw a few faces pale. This was about to be even more fun.
"We'll start off easy. Diddy-Dums Dudley hasn't been to school in over a year. Such a shame that he wasn't cut out for Smeltings. Something about the lack of talent and skill…"
Harry smiled. Petunia already looked like she had swallowed a particularly sour cheek of lemon with that minor piece of information; Harry couldn't wait to see what happened when he revealed his next little tidbit.
"What about that dear Ms Daniels over there who has been sleeping with him for the past three years? Go on, Ms Daniels! Stand up and let everyone see you! She's celebrating right now because Vernon told her he was leaving her everything in the will."
He watched on in glee as people had to physically hold Petunia back from clawing at Ms Daniels. Such fun, but he still had more to reveal.
"Such a shame for her that she's getting none of it. Isn't that right, Mr Abbott?"
He went for the theatrical pointing to Mr Abbott, who was trying to make a quick getaway before anyone could stop him.
"You and my lovely uncle were in a really nice embezzling scam, were you not? How else do you think Vernon, with no talents or skills to his name, managed to have so much cash when he never even made it to a managerial role? You were getting all the cash as soon as he died. You must be over the moon!"
The outrage grew, and that's when the screaming started. He didn't even need to say the rest of his speech as everyone in the crowd started shouting accusations and revealing sordid history that had been covered up for years.
Harry remained at the lectern grinning as the chaos continued around him.
This had to be in his top ten funerals—maybe even top five.
He turned away from the crowd and moved over to the casket where he could have a private few words. "You never liked me, and at least I understood it. I'm happy you're dead and can't keep ruining other people's lives. I wish you all the worst in Hell."
He sighed before turning back around to face the chaos. It appeared to have devolved even more as he saw Petunia clawing at Ms Daniels and a mob seemed to have formed around Mr Abbott.
Shaking off the little sincerity he had allowed for the day, he dived right back into the fray.
"Hey!" The chaos continued. "I said listen to me!"
"Hem-hem, I still have the rest of my speech. Thank you very much. Now all of you can be polite enough and allow a poor grieving nephew to say his final few words."
Everyone had stopped for the moment, but it looked like they were a minute away for all standards and sanity to abandon them all.
"Vernon Dursley was a fat whale who I hated. He never tried. He hated everyone. My final few words I wanted to say is that each and every penny he has will be going to me as I have a court-ordered claim to his estate that has been signed by my dear friend Queen Liz as head of Parliament as well as Lord Chief Justice."
Pandemonium truly erupted then as all of them realized they wouldn't be seeing any of his money. People tore at one another, trying to clamour and take anything of value. Dudley was crying. Petunia and Ms Daniels could no longer be held back and were tearing into one another. The riot police had been called to break apart the mob that had been formed of Grunnings' drill salesmen. The priest was hiding behind the casket.
Harry was having the time of his life — he couldn't have foreseen a better celebration of Vernon's death than this.
THC/The Houses Competition.
Round 8 - Standard
House - Gryffindor
Class - HoH
Prompt(s) chosen -
[Event] Celebrating Somebody's Death
1576 words (wordcounter .net)