Disclaimer Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling

Warning! This chapter will contain more gruesome and horrific depictions of violence performed by a small 8-year-old eldritch abomination. Yay.

Chapter 16 Revenge or Tea

Amongst the heavy deluge of water that the storm up above was assaulting the earth with, a solitary looming figure stood upon a curb across from a building currently engulfed in flames. The energetic flickering of the hungering fire cast insidious shadows around the figure who stood enraptured by the inferno that devoured the house. This figure was unbothered by the rain that pelted against him with stormy force, for its attention was locked squarely on the flames. Flames it had ignited to burn away the weapon a group of cowards had used to brutalise his only friend. Flames that now devoured two of said cowards mangled bodies. Flames that almost succeeded in covering the horrific screams of the same cowards whose souls were being mauled horribly by those that feed on death. Almost.

The orbs of fire that constituted his eyes burned with more intensity than the flames that devoured the house hungrily. Its excitement was palpable as the realisation that the night seemed to be reaching its crescendo had him positively energised. His choir too seemed to be serenading him with what could only be the calm tones of restrained excitement, the tones hinting at a magnificent build towards something glorious. How will we end this evening's performance I wonder? His excitement peaked, the Herald in all his horrific glory began to walk into the darkness as a man in a heavy rain jacket holding a bottle stared stunned at the burning building.

…

In a dreary old house somewhere on the outskirts of Surrey, an empty beer bottle flew through the air, its flight coming to a sudden and abrupt end when it crashed into a battered old fridge with explosive force. A few shards propelled themselves into the back of a young boy, bouncing off of his torso leaving light stinging sensations that loitered on his flesh. But despite the startling noise and the stinging sensation from the glass, the young boy did not make a peep as he continue to do his homework. But when a man in the next room began to have a heavy coughing fit, young Gordon could not help but to lean back in his chair and observe the developing situation with no small degree of morbid interest.

He proceeded to stare at the dirty man known as Ash as he choked and coughed violently, pounding on his heaving chest as he did. Gordon looked on, a small part of him hoping that this was a precursor to Ash suffering some form of lung failure. If he collapses, I could just put a pillow over his face… no one would need to know, the boy thought to himself, allowing his mind to wander to the idea of a world without Ash. Gordons hopes were sadly dashed as Ash merely spat a glob of phlegm across the room that splattered on the wall grossly.

"Brat, my hands empty," Ashe barked as his eyes whipped over to the kitchen, his gaze dangerous as it remained glued to Gordons. His message, more a threat really, was easily understood as Gordon moved briskly to the fridge and retrieved one of the numerous bears that filled the confines of the cold box. With just as much speed Gordon crossed into the living room, the old TV blurting some hazy noise behind him as he held the bottle out to Ash. The man did not grab the bottle, rather his grip locked painfully around Gordon's wrist like a vice as his bloodshot eyes bounced erratically in his head. The man sneered down at Gordon his eyes never settling as he pulled the boy close, the action causing Gordon to tense in preparation for whatever pain was to come.

"You know what I did tonight you little shit… I went out and taught that freak who attacked your friends the price of his cheek." Gordon did not even blink at this information, his whole body still waiting for whatever pain was sure to befall it in a moment. "I made sure he hurt… what do you think of that?" Ash slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol and whatever other junk he ate, the acrid smell almost enough to make Gordon react… almost. But despite any provocation, Gordon wasn't foolish enough to make a face or even react, as he had learned Ash didn't care what the reaction was, he just wanted one.

"… can I get back to my homework?" Gordon asked as politely as he could, eager to be away from the disturbed man, whose immediate response was a suspicious glare. Ash looked him over his gaze never really resting as it bounced about looking for something suspicious, Gordon did not move doing his best to avoid any action that could constitute a provocation despite the iron-clad grip on his wrist still causing him discomfort.

"… bugger off, go do your work and mind your cheek," Ash spat, some of his spittle landing upon Gordon's brow but he endured it until he was out of eyeshot, his pace even and his movement calm. The boy found himself seated at the kitchen table again and resumed his work on his maths homework, eager for the distraction. Gordon continued to work dutifully but it seemed that his evening would not end so easily, after many long years of experience Gordon had learned what sounds he should be wary of. One of those noises was the sound of the kitchen floorboards creaking from an adult stepping on them.

The sudden pain shooting up his arm was the only indication Gordon had that he had successfully reacted in time to stop the blow from colliding with his head. The sound of glass shattering told him that it was a bottle that had crashed into his arm, the shards of broken glass succeeding in tearing his flesh and leaving cuts. The loud snap that accompanied the shattering of glass told Gordon that once again he had broken his arm. All this information resulted in Gordon being hit by a wave of pain so strong it physically wracked his body and made his gut twist itself up in a knot. His chest felt tight, and his vision blurred as he felt his throat tighten to not give the abusive bastard the pleasure of hearing him cry out.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!?" Ash raged his voice sounding distant as Gordon was gingerly cradling his broken limb, fairly sure the break was below his elbow going off the fact that he now couldn't feel his hand. Ash was still bellowing and raging but it all seemed distant to Gordon who had his face scrunched up as he battled against the tears that threatened to leak from his eyes. Don't do it, Gordon, you're better than this… you're better than him, Gordon thought to himself as he smothered his sadness with his fury. But he quickly learnt that getting distracted was not to his benefit as a hand tightly clutched his hair and lifted him from his chair painfully.

"Are you even fucking listening to me? You revolting little pissant!" Ash all but screamed in Gordon's face, who finally fed up did what was quite possibly either the bravest or the single most idiotic thing he had ever done.

"Yes, and I think the neighbours are too," Gordon replied to Ash, his face devoid of emotion but internally he was both simultaneously cringing and smirking as he readied himself for the rebuttal. Ashes face became even uglier if that was even possible, his nostrils flared violently his bloodshot eyes seemed to somehow widen even more and his yellow teeth sneered as spittle-flecked onto his chin.

"You whiny little prick!" Ash hollered as he tossed Gordon over the kitchen bar, his small frame bowling into a side table causing the piece of furniture to collapse as its legs snapped. Gordon found his lungs quickly emptied of all air as his chest spasmed trying to recover from the winded state. Ash marched back into the loungeroom his booted foot quickly stomping on Gordon's chest pinning his broken arm beneath its weight, the winded whimper Gordon produced in response was but a tiny fraction of the exclamation he wanted to emit.

"You son of a bitch, you think because I strung up that little hellspawn that suddenly you get to give me cheek? I strung that little freak up as a reminder that nothing touches my property… even if that property is a pathetic little ingrate like you!" Ash sneered, his boot pushing down on the brutalised child eliciting a gasping groan that Gordon simply couldn't hold back as his eyes flared with suffering.

"I should fucking kill you… save me the woes of having to come home and see your worthless ass taking advantage of my good graces." Ash mused as he removed his boot off of Gordon and poured alcohol over his body causing the boy to splutter and cover his eyes as the stinging liquid burned.

"Just do it you damn drunk," Gordon spat, his throat tight and his voice strained as he coughed and got his lungs working again. "You think I fucking care, I'd rather be dead than be related to a prick like you."

Ash didn't say anything, he just stared down at Gordon with abject disgust, vile thoughts swirling around his addled mind. With a brisk pace, Ash exited the living room and went to another part of the house, his steps audible as he stomped heavily throughout the abode. Gordon didn't move, in too much pain as his arm throbbed with agony and his chest throbbed from being winded. Gordon heard Ash approach long before he saw his work boots come to a stop in front of his downed frame. The surprise came when a metal tool stabbed into the floor piercing the wooden boards, Gordon inadvertently jumped when it stabbed in front of his face, the sharp metal far too close for comfort.

"Wha-…" Gordon's question died in his abused chest as he saw the head of the shovel properly and in that instant Gordon realised Ash might carry through on his threat. The sight of the deep red stains marring the relatively new shovel made a pit form in Gordon's gut as the mental image of the tool stabbing him played in his mind. Gordon felt his mouth become dry and a cold shiver run down his spine, as Ash sneered down at him with his teeth bared like a rabid hound.

"Look at that… no more cheek huh? What's wrong Gordy, realise that pops might just decide to put another brat in the ground tonight." Ash mocked maliciously as he pried the shovel turned murder weapon out of the floorboards and held it threateningly over Gordon's head. "Go on brat say something, where is all that cheek, all that lip… come now runt you're going to have to speak up just a bit."

Gordon felt all the words die in his chest, he felt dread seep into his bones, horror settle on his features and fear writhe uncomfortably in his gut. He realised with startling clarity that Ash was serious, that he was honestly considering killing him… he was going to kill his son. Ash lifted his gaze so that he could look that man in the eyes… he saw nothing but disdain in them as the man looked at him the same way he looked at his throw up the morning after he drank himself into a stupor. Gordon felt nothing but fear.

Then someone knocked on the door.

Ash seemed to jolt as his head whipped up to the front door and the shovel once again slammed into the floor right before Gordon's face. Ash crouched down, squatting before the curled-up boy as he whispered a dangerous threat through clenched teeth. "You let out a single peep and I'll be doing some gardening come morning," he hissed tapping the shovel twice before heading towards the door.

Gordon watched him exit his peripheral vision, heard him lean the shovel against a wall in the entryway, heard Ash throw the door open violently in what was a display of his temper. "What!?" The man shouted aggressively at whoever had knocked on their door, clearly hoping to scare off whoever it was.

The next thing Gordon saw was Ash crashing into the kitchen bar, his body folding around the counter of it as the top half of his body crashed into the kitchen table. The sound of glasses and plates falling to the floor almost covered the noise of Ash throwing up, no doubt from his stomach being forcefully squished from his landing. Gordon didn't know what just happened but to say he was now very confused would be a severe understatement.

*Drip* *Drip* *Drip*

An inhuman leg stepped into his peripheral vision, a puddle of water forming beneath its strange sharp-looking feet. Gordon heard something ring in his ears, like chanting, as his eyes locked onto that strange foot and a new kind of fear swarmed his mind. The thing, whatever it was, took two more steps allowing him to behold it fully. It was terrifying. It was so terrifying the Gordon was quick to bury his face in the floor and avert his gaze from whatever the horrific thing was.

"What the hell!" Ash shouted over the sound of glass breaking as he crawled off the counter, more similar noises followed soon after, Gordon suspected that the noise was made by Ash moving. An inhuman yowl, like a deranged cat followed by the sound of a rush of air and something heavy impacting flesh followed. Ash grunted and once more there was the crash of something impacting a wall. Gordon opened his eyes slightly to see the strange creature, it had Ash by his throat, the man pinned a solid meter of the ground pinned to the wall by his throat. In the next instant, it slammed Ash onto the table and brought one of its massive claws down on his chest raking its sharp fingers down his torso shredding cloth and flesh in equal measure and flicking blood across the room like a grotesque splatter of paint.

Ash gave out a shrieking gasp like a wounded animal, the mouthless creature shrieked back with a cry akin to that of a predatory bird via a disembodied voice that swallowed all noise. It brought the same bloodied claw down like a fist upon Ash's shoulder, a heavy crack whether from the arm or the table that collapsed from the blow exploded like a thunderclap. A snarl and the sound of broken furniture being kicked out of the way was all the warning before a plate was hurled at the abomination's face its long neck rearing back like an enraged serpent. Proceeding to bolt through the kitchen doorway, Ash got two steps into the loungeroom when a kick from the things long dangerous legs him had tripped over the coffee table and onto his very much broken shoulder.

Gordon seeing the looming monster stalking towards Ash quickly scrambled out of the way and put his back flush against the wall opposite the TV. Ash launched a kick as rebuttal his panicked grunts a firm indication of the fear he felt, as the abominable creature caught the offending limb and dragged it over the coffee table. With a purposeful movement, it raised the leg high, lifting Ash's lower half into the air, the monster followed up by lashing out with a swift kick to his knee with explosive force, shattering the man's patella utterly. Ash tried to scream but the monster was quick to silence him with a hand around his throat, its sharp fingers carving into his flesh as it hoisted him into the air once more. Ash at this point was practically catatonic, his eyes rolling listlessly in his head as the creature held his bloody body high, a triumphant chittering emanating from its chest. With the light from the TV illuminating it, Gordon got his first full proper look at the creature as it stood tall with its prey in hand.

Long dangerous-looking legs that should not be on a bipedal creature ate up distance with long steps that moved with unnatural grace. Its hips were jagged angled things made all the more noticeable by the shrunken gut that gave it a sickening hourglass figure. Its chest had ribs on the outside and the bones looked almost metallic against its leathery grey skin. Its arms came down to its knees… but its hands and more importantly its blade-like fingers came down to its ankles. The worst part for Gordon was by far its neck, the long bone like neck that rose above its body and bent to keep its strange skull-like head from scraping the ceiling.

Gordon watched as the hand not holding Ash slowly rose until a singular finger was pointed squarely at Ash's forehead and a small jolt of bright blue electricity arced across the space and seared the flesh on Ash's forehead. With a jolt and a spasm, Ash was forced back into full consciousness and a visceral scream left his throat as a choked splutter. The things head tilted, its burning gaze observing the writhing man closely as he uselessly kicked one leg into its body to no effect. Gordon watched on hypnotically, the creature utterly dominating the man who raised him as strange voices chanted sinister serenades in his mind.

"What… Are… You…?" Ash gasped as he struggled against the creature's grasp, its sharp fingers digging deeper into the meat of his throat as he thrashed about.

"… You broke my body… strung me up and burned me alive." The creature hissed as its freehand clutched Ash's broken knee and squeezed. The man flailed causing more blood to pool onto the coffee table that was now soaked due to the horrendous wound on his torso. Gordon was honestly shocked that Ash was still alive as there was just so much blood on the floor.

"Y-you!"

"Me!"

The monster dropped Ash letting him land on his ruined leg causing the man to scream in agony as it folded like wet cardboard and had him falling face-first onto the bloody coffee table, his screams continuing as he writhed in pain. The thing raised a hand, its long fingers splayed and as if by a magic the shovel that ash had wielded but a few short moments ago flew across the room and smacked heavily into its palm. With little to no warning, it kicked Ash squarely in the ribs flipping the man over onto his back, Ash coughing up a light smattering of blood as he gasped trying to get air back into his lungs. With his mouth wide open the monster placed the shovel in his open gob, the head of the tool resting on his cheeks pushing them back painfully and stretching his face out.

"You should leave," The thing spoke its eyes now focused on Gordon who jerked at realising he was being talked to. The thing's voice echoed in his head as his mind tried to catch up to what was happening through the haze of panic in his mind.

"… Are you going to kill him?" Gordon asked with courage he didn't feel.

"To begin with," It snarled with its disembodied voice, the statement causing visions of salivating fangs and blood-drenched claws to appear within Gordon's mind, startling him.

Gordon slowly got up, careful of his arm that ached painfully. With carefully measured steps he walked towards the front door, it was still open, and it was heavily raining outside, but Gordon paid that little heed. The dark seemed to beckon to him promising him safety from the horrors of his house, but before he could make his escape Gordon looked over his shoulder. The creature had Ash pinned to the coffee table with a single leg and blood pooled from the raised furniture like some macabre altar. Ash was grunting and spluttering as the shovelhead muffled his words, but his eyes were begging, pleading for Gordon to do something, anything. Gordon looked to the monster face and saw its burning orbs staring right back, the otherworldly green of the flames danced with malicious and hypnotic movements. His decision made Gordon let himself hesitantly take a single step forward and swivel his gaze back to his father, to look him in the eyes one last time as he said his final words to the man.

"Goodbye, Ash."

And with that Gordon sprinted full pelt out into the stormy night not looking back even once as he tried to put as much distance as physically possible between him and the walking nightmare that was going to murder his father. As he ran, the rain wasted no time in drenching him with cold lashes of water that contrasted against the throbbing pain in his arm, Gordon contemplating on how it was strange that the chanting began to soften. Eventually, he was running with only the sound of the pelting rain to accompany him, and the sound of his pounding heartbeat was louder than the fading sound of the haunting chanting. He ran into the rainy night safe from the monster and arguably more relieving, he was safe from his father as well. As Gordon ran he smothered a sob in his chest, still stubbornly refusing to express himself, but if tears mixed with the rain that night none would be able to tell.

…

The hammering rain outside cast a film over the black of the night and made what few things were illuminated by the streetlights appear dreamlike and vague. Vernon scrutinised the length of Private Drive a moment longer before he returned to his duty of packing so that he and his family could escape. He moved swiftly, grabbing essentials for the moment, and rushing to collect only the bare essentials. I'll buy them both whole new wardrobes, if need be, Vernon thought to himself as he stuffed a few dress shirts into a medium-sized luggage bag. As he prepared to begin collecting stuff for his wife, he saw an already packed luggage bag in the corner of the wardrobe stashed just out of sight. Leaning down, Vernon picked it up and found it neatly packed with an assortment of Petunia's clothes and a toiletry bag neatly tucked in the side. Attached to the side of it was a tag that read 'bug out bag' in his wife's ridiculously neat handwriting.

"Pet… you were always a clever one," Vernon muttered to himself resealing the bag and placing it next to his much messier one. He went back to the closet and found two more, one for him and one for Dudley as well as a lockbox that was placed along with them. Vernon felt a warm feeling flush his chest, his wife's act of thoughtfulness filling him with a sense of love as he grabbed the lockbox and all the bags and walked them down the stair. He got to the last three steps when he was stopped cold where he stood by an unnerving sight that left him feeling entirely too cold for his liking. The front door was open, the stormy outside world plainly on display through the open entryway as thunder rumbled overhead.

Vernon got to the bottom of the stairs and placed the bags at the base of them neatly stacked together. He approached the door and closed it before locking it with conscious effort to make sure that it stayed closed this time. Turning back, he gazed at the empty house, only the kitchen light was on… just as he left it and there was no indication that anyone else was inside, but Vernon was unnerved all the same. He marched through the house to the patio doors and consciously locked them as well, hoping that the act would do something to help him feel more secure.

It did not.

Vernon shook his head and grumbled to himself, now was no time to hesitate, he had no idea how long he had until the freaks showed up ready to unleash their havoc, no longbeard wanker is going to lay a fucking finger on my family. Vernon walked with purpose entering the kitchen and returned to packing emergency rations into his bag, previous talks with Petunia educating him on what to grab and what to forget. Vernon made to turn around and grab a bag of sugar when he had to clamp down on his tongue to stop himself from making a startled exclamation. There were two cups of tea just sitting on the bench, freshly made, and steaming. A flash of lightning made him flinch and the following thunder seemed to wash over him like a wave that shook him to his core. When silence settled in the wake of the house rattling shockwave Vernon took a long hard breath, his heart resisting the attempt to settle despite his efforts.

*Creak*

Vernon froze, more accurately he became paralysed at the sound of something moving upstairs, something large that was heavy enough to make the floorboards creak. He listened as whatever it was moved with long pauses between the creaking floorboards. When it got to the stairs Vernon saw a large, clawed hand reach down and grip the banister and that was all he saw before he quickly whipped around and pulled the large carving knife from the rack and twisted back to the stairs ready to defend himself.

But it was gone, the claw and whatever it was attached to was no longer on the stairs and once more the house was plunged into a deathly quiet, made all the worse for the ambient sound of rain outside. Vernon though was no fool and knew very well that it was time to get while the getting was good. He adjusted his grip on the knife and turned about to grab the bag on the kitchen table that was loaded with food, his hands full he made to exit the kitchen and then the house as quickly as possible.

"If it is not too much trouble, would you mind bringing me my tea before you make your daring escape?" A calm high-pitched voice rang out injecting ice into Vernon's chest as the familiar voice made its request.

A singular gulp was the best that Vernon could do to calm himself before he turned his head to the right and beheld the owner of the voice perched comfortably on the couch in the dark. Their bright green glowing eyes stared at him, devoid of emotion.

"I made one for you as well, it's exactly how you like it, made by me to your lofty standards… figured a warm cuppa would be perfect after such a busy evening." They chimed in again clearly, trying to get some kind of reaction out of Vernon with their small talk.

"Right," Vernon grunted turning back to the kitchen and placing the bag loaded with supplies back on the table, with one hand free Vernon glanced to his other occupied one and thought very carefully, the heft of the carving knife both comforting and tantalizing.

"Honestly if you think that your little knife can accomplish what six of you, a rope and a jerry can of gasoline couldn't then by all means… Try. Me."

Vernon looked at the knife carefully, contemplating his chances of killing the freak but then reality, or whatever the hell had replaced it on Vernon's life, reminded him of the exact situation he was in. With a defeated sigh he placed the knife on the bench and picked up the other cup… without spitting in it. He carried them both into the living room the pair of glowing green orbs following him the whole time, a snide smirk was illuminated by a flash of lightning as if he was pleased by the act of Vernon bringing him a beverage.

"Thank you very much, I hope you don't mind but I used your preferred sugar rather than honey like Petunia prefers. I know she says that the honey is better for you, but I figured heck, live a little."

Vernon didn't reply, rather taking a sip of the tea and finding that it was indeed by all accounts a perfect cup of tea to his exact preferences. "… I assume you did not come here to make me a cup of tea?" He spoke after savouring the taste of the warmed beverage. A childish giggle was the response as the glowing green orbs closed for a moment as their owner enjoyed their cup.

"No… no, I am afraid that my visit now is a continuation of the business you started earlier this evening."

"I didn't start this f…" a dangerous stare had Vernon trail off as his heart suddenly felt constricted by some force.

"For the sake of us having a civil discussion why don't we stick to names Vernon… you may call me by Herald, or as you are in fact family I don't mind if you use Harry." The boy quickly informed his voice going from dangerous to teasing in the span of a single sentence. Vernon was puzzled by the boy's strange pronunciation of 'Harold' but decided he would not bring it up as there were more pressing questions to be covered at the moment.

"… You attacked Dudley," Vernon stated his voice leaving no room for argument as his beady eyes stared intently at the child's ominous green ones.

"He burnt down my hideout."

"He had to go to the hospital."

"I have no frame of reference for the seriousness of that fact as I have never actually been to one, Vernon." Harry chided lightly using the lull in conversation to enjoy another sip of his tea, this time his eyes remained firmly locked onto Vernon's. Vernon also decided to have another sip of his cup rather than continue what he felt was a pointless argument, after all, he knew he was right.

"… I was unaware that your kind could come back from the dead, makes me wonder why your parents never came back for you?" Vernon suddenly spoke up his voice laced with frustration, as to whether it was intentional or not, he had just somehow managed to extend his life by a few solid minutes.

"I do believe Vernon that you have managed to skip over the lengthy small talk I had planned and jet us straight to the reason of my being here," Harry announced humorously, although he did not smile, and his eyes flared with something ominous.

"Oh?"

"Indeed, so I will match your pace and get right to the meat of this conversation. Let us begin by dissecting that interesting little tidbit you just proclaimed, what exactly do you mean by 'my kind'?" Harry queried placing his cup on the side table, taking care to put a coaster under it, emphasising the action so that he was sure Vernon would witness it.

"…"

"Oh, come now Vernon let us not descend into childish little bouts of stubbornness, believe me when I say… you don't want our civility to cease," Harry warned, his voice sinister despite the pitch, the shadows in the house grew deeper and the light in the kitchen flickered brightly as Harry frowned.

"… I meant other fre-… damn I mean witches and wizards and whatever the hell else you lot refer to yourselves as, honestly!" Vernon growled placing his cup down and reclining in his chair, seeming to decide to play along with this charade for the time being.

"… 'witch's son'… so maybe you and Petunia did know what you were branding me with after all."

"What? The brand was meant to mean 'evil child' or something, branding was one of the punishments normal folks did to your kind back before you all went into hiding." Vernon explained confused by Harry's statement.

"… I see," Harry hummed, reaching back to his tea, and enjoying another sip of his beverage, Vernon unconsciously following suit.

"I will tell you now Vernon to spare your no doubt already addled mind the confusion but whatever ilk I may have once belonged to… I assure you I belong now to another. So no, I do not think my parents managed my same feat." Harry explained as he returned his cup to its coaster, his lips upturned slightly but the smile was clearly for provocation rather than a display of amusement.

Vernon did not understand whatever the freak was talking about and so for a few seconds, the storm outside was the only source of noise between the two tense enemies. The lull in conversation felt more like sitting on a landmine in all honesty as Vernon didn't know how but he was sure that at any second whatever peaceful façade Harry was maintaining would surely be cast aside.

"Perhaps then another conversational topic is needed, how about a request hmm? Humour me won't you uncle, I have been so damn curious, and I think it's time I lay this cat to rest, so why don't you tell me why is it that for some reason you… you, of all the people on this damnable planet, came to be tasked with caring for me?" Harry questioned the glow in his eyes growing in intensity, so much so that for a second, they almost appeared to be ablaze. Vernon to his credit merely blinked his eyes to adjust to their brightness before replying to Harry's question in a level tone.

"Petunia's sister was your mother."

"Yes, yes but come now you and I both know very well that all you two wanted was for me to disappear… say for example into the woods," Harry snapped his voice gaining a dangerous edge.

"… One of your kind brought you to us."

"Oh, did they now." Harry who had been reaching for his tea suddenly halted in his motion, his attention fully returned to Vernon as the sky was speared by another jagged bolt of lightning.

"He had some ridiculous name, but Petunia said he was someone important in their world, he explained to us that your parents had gone and gotten themselves killed by some type of magical terrorist," Vernon explained ending his sentence with a visceral sip of his tea, making sure it was loud to fend off any silence.

"… Go on."

"He then went on to explain that this now meant we had to take you in." Vernon continued his voice wavering a bit from its level tone as anger began to paint his speech.

"Interesting… and so you chose to take me in?" Harry posed his question like one asks for someone to hand over their valuables, his fury coming through clearly at the idea.

"Ha! Hardly, the crazy old nutter seemed to think that as we were your last surviving relatives that we would take you in and raise you as that was the right and proper thing to do," Vernon explained his eyes focused solely on his cup of tea.

"And you said yes?"

"No, I told him to go choke on his beard and leave us the hell alone," Vernon hissed his moustache flaring from his nostrils heavy breathing.

"Hmmm, I sense a 'but' coming."

Vernon snarled but did not correct Harry as he explained what happened next, "despite us asking him to politely fuck off the bugger instead teleported into our house and began to explain how we were in terrible danger from the equivalent of more magical terrorists. Sparing no details about all the horrific things these so-called 'dark wizards' did to muggles."

"Muggles?"

"Their name for us," Vernon spat.

"Ahh, how cute but I would like if we could skip ahead to the part where you explain to me why I was forced to grow up in your bloody cupboard." Harry groused his hands once again holding his teacup even though he had yet to bring it up to his lips.

"… He explained that as Petunia was related to one of the wizards who had defied the big in charge 'dark wizard' that all his followers would want to do the same horrible things to us… just like they did to her parents." Vernon paused at this point taking a moment to lick his lips as he contemplated his next words. "His scare tactic worked, and we agreed to take you in on the provision that never would our family be put in danger by anything related to magic. He agreed and so we took you in and raised you."

"How thoughtful of you, an insurance policy in the form of a newborn babe," Harry snarked lightly sipping his tea as he shot Vernon a judgmental look.

"Yeah, well the old bastard broke his end of the deal, and we didn't have a way to give you back, so we made do," Vernon replied just as snidely his meaty fist placing his tea back down as he grumbled beneath his breath.

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on a damn minute! What do you mean you couldn't give me back, where is this guy who just handed you lot a magical fucking baby!" Harry exploded green flames dancing behind his eyes as his hands warped into razor-sharp claws for a second, the kitchen light finally giving up and exploding rather than just flickering.

"I mean just that brat, we tried to get rid of you, long before you attacked Dudley, we realised we were out of our depth with you doing freaky shit every other week."

"Freaky shit?"

"Floating toys, the teleporting, turning invisible, exploding your least favourite food…" Vernon listed off leaning back in his chair smirking viciously at Harry as he described him as an infant. "When I describe you as a hellspawn, I don't mean it as an insult, I mean it in the sense that I'm pretty sure you're something from hell sent to torment me and my family."

"Right so you tried to give me back?" Harry inquired ignoring Vernon's little jab.

"Yes, but there was a problem, the old swindler didn't leave us any bloody contact details. He just did some magic mumbo jumbo he called 'wards' and fucked off back to his magical castle in god knows where." Vernon explained his voice very much exasperated after remembering all the stress he and Petunia had endured in those early days of being stuck with Harry.

"Bloody hell…" Harry groaned, discovering that even though Vernon was very much to blame for his death and the suffering he had endured over the years alongside his family, the fact that someone else had condemned him to this place was a frustrating discovery that agitated him severely.

"What the heck are wards?" Harry questioned head still buried in his hands as he reeled his magic back in that was at present carving up the living room ceiling with vicious violet gashes reminiscent of some crazed beast.

Vernon let out another quiet gulp before responding as he got his first good look at Harry's hands under the illumination of his own eyes… they were covered in something. "The old wizard said they were blood wards that would protect your family and home so long as you continued to reside here"

"Funny I don't ever really remember feeling protected," he snarked as he sipped his tea.

"Yes, and you tossed Dudley through a fucking fence, so it wasn't working for either party, now was it," Vernon snarled back.

"… So, if they were tied to blood then how were you protected, Petunia is my blood relative, even Dudley should be more protected than you." Harry postulated his confusion plane to see as he continued to enjoy his now lukewarm tea. "But it was you that none of my Commands worked on, not Dudley, nor Petunia… though to be fair in recent memory I cannot remember any times I tried to set her on fire."

Vernon only growled in response and loudly placed his empty teacup on the table with a sharp clatter. Harry smirked at him as he took another sip from his cup enjoying the brave face Vernon was putting on for show.

"Well, then I suppose I shall ask just one last thing of you Vernon… why did you involve the librarian?" Harry questioned his gleaming eyes turning hard as steal as his face settled into a snarl.

"Why did you attack Dudley?"

"He attacked me."

"Because you scared him."

"I scared him so he would leave me alone."

"He would have left you alone if you didn't draw attention to yourself at school."

"Oh, excuse me for wanting to try and make friends."

"Friends are for normal folk who don't attack their own family!"

"You attacked me on a near-daily basis!"

"Your very existence put all of us in danger, I was trying to protect my family!"

"By starving and beating me?!"

"Yes, and it worked you used less magic!"

"Because I was afraid of you!"

"Good, then you know how we felt!"

"How you felt! Your sister sicked a fucking dog on me, your wife battered me with a hot frypan, your son regularly had me mobbed and beaten and you lashed me regularly with your belt to the point that my body scared a grown woman!"

"You could have killed us at any time if we didn't keep you down!"

"I wouldn't have wanted to if you didn't treat me like garbage!"

"And we were just supposed to believe that a monster like you wouldn't hurt us!"

"Me! A monster! You branded a fucking child!"

"YOU'RE A DAMN FREAK!"

"AND YOU ARE A CRUEL MAN!"

They were both standing now, chests heaving, and fists clenched as they snarled at each other. Vernon did his best to loom over the child with the coffee table between them, while Harry's eyes burned like green hellfire, a raw display of power that threatened to leak out. Slowly Harry returned to his seat, but his eyes continued to blaze as they remained locked onto Vernon never moving an inch. Slowly Harry reached over and emptied his cup of tea before placing it on the table so that it was visible in the dim light of the living room.

"It would seem, Vernon, that teatime is over," Harry announced his voice once again level and monotone. Vernon only grunted in response, his body still upright and poised to react to the slightest provocation.

"Well then, before we conclude our business here Vernon, I feel I must present to you a little gift," Harry spoke with a full smile, his features seeming to stretch a little too much for his childlike face. Vernon quickly became unsettled by that smile but assumed that it was simply the light from the freak's glowing eyes distorting his vision.

"I figured that you wouldn't want to depart on your lonesome, so I brought a friend to see you off," Harry continued jovially, but as he reached behind him Vernon saw the room begin to darken and the temperature begin to plummet. Vernon trusting his instincts took three wide steps back, putting his back flush against the door leading to the cupboard under the stairs.

With a wet plop, something ovoid in shape was placed on the coffee table, concealed by the darkness that permeated the room. Vernon could not rightly see what it was but knew in his gut that whatever it was he didn't want to see it. So rather he focused his sight on Harry's eyes that stared at him unblinking from across the room, just floating there in the black.

"Oh, Vernon…" Harry spoke, his tone of voice taking on that of a disappointed teacher, Vernon clenched his fists as Harry's eyes rose, their movement telling Vernon that Harry had stood up. "You won't be able to properly say hi from over there," His childish voice chided, but Vernon was too occupied by the fact that his eyes were still rising to focus too hard on his voice.

"Why don't I turn the light on for you Vernon, so you can appreciate all the trouble I went through." Harry continued but gone was the childish voice Vernon recognized, now it sounded distorted as if it was being spoken into a deep pit. The boy's eyes stopped rising once they were at eye level with Vernon who was standing at his full height.

"Wait- Stop, don't do it, I don't wanna see!" Vernon growled but Harry only tilted his head, his eyes becoming lopsided being the only indicator of this.

"But Vernon…" the lights switched on and Vernon felt his heart stop, felt tears build in his eyes, heard distant voices chant insidious melodies that made his soul shrivel. His legs damn near gave out and his hands became sweaty as his gut churned, causing him to throw up violently as he lost control of his bowels. "Ash came all this way to say goodbye!" The thing that was once Harry howled as its long neck reared up to its full height.

Laying before it on the coffee table was the bloody decapitated head of Ash cut off at the jaw, bleeding heavily onto a pile of gardening magazines. Vernon stared into the heads glassy dead eyes and felt more sic worm its way up to his throat and out onto the floor. The sound of the couch moving had Vernon whipping his head around on his thick neck to behold the abomination standing at its full height, with its long neck hunched so that its warped head would not scrape the ceiling.

"Go on Vernon say goodbye to your fellow murderer!" It barked as it picked the mangled head up and threw it across the room, bouncing it off the wall to land at Vernon's feet. Vernon could only stare, his horror at the sight eating at him as his body refused to move despite the overwhelming sense of fear he was feeling.

"I decided to leave you for last Vernon, I wanted their screams to greet you when you pass from this world, their fear and pain will be the first thing you hear in your afterlife." It explained taking one long step towards him, Vernon however stubbornly refused to look directly at it. "Come now… Vernon, look at me… Look me in the eye Vernon! Be a man and look at me!"

"No!" Vernon roared defiantly as he took off dashing upstairs his mind a hazy fog of fear save for but one thought that rung out powerfully. Get to the closet, get to the closet… Dammit man, get to the bloody closet!

Vernon moved faster than he ever had before, and it was all thanks to the horrible screeching and the sound of claws raking through wood that was happening right on his heels. Vernon reached the top of the stairs and grabbed the lamp that rested at the top so that people could use the stairs safely. In a bout of irony, Vernon hurled it at the monster pursuing him, he didn't stop to see if it hit but the screech that made his right eye twitch violently would indicate that it had. Reaching the master bedroom Vernon slammed the door shut behind him, twisting the deadbolt to lock it and tipping the vanity over to barricade the door. A powerful thump against the door had Vernon tripping over his own feet as the abomination that Harry had become furiously pounded and scratched at the door, shaking the whole house in his efforts.

Move Vernon! Get to the bloody closet! Vernon scolded himself crawling over to the closet he had collected the bug out bags from but this time he searched the shelf above the hangers. Throwing caution to the wind Vernon tossed and hurled the boxes and bags out of the way getting to his prize. An oak wood case, hidden at the back of the shelf that he purchased when he had been applying for the job at Grunnings, to this day Vernon was almost sure that it was what helped him land the job. Vernon yanked it off the shelf and all but flung it onto the bed, doing so just as an abnormally long arm punched through the door and began swiping at him, one claw actually managing to catch his hip shredding through sweater and shirt but only grazing his flesh.

"VeRnnooooOOOONNNNNNNNN!" A haunting voice howled as a burning orb peeked through the hole its flaming gaze locking onto Vernon with hellish intensity.

Vernon ignored the way his whole body flinched, powered through the trembling in his hands and did his best to not think about the warm fluid he felt leaking out of his ears. What he couldn't ignore was the sudden volume of the chanting that felt like it was shouting in his head while esoteric drums pounded to the rhythm of his panicked heartbeat. With a snarl, Vernon flicked off the latches that sealed the case and wrenched it open and felt a flicker of hope spark to life in his chest. A double-barrel shotgun, break action with eight shells lined up ready to be used. Vernon hefted it out of the box and flicked it open as the door rattled violently, a large crack appearing on the doorframe itself.

"I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU SCREAM VERNON!"

Vernon cringed at the sound of wood splitting but focused instead on stilling his hands enough for him to slide two shells into the gun before popping it closed. The gun now loaded Vernon turned about to face the door just as the freakish thing pried the top half of the door off and tossed it down the hallway. Its featureless skull-like head craned under the frame to stare at him as its body began trying to squeeze into the room.

"VERNON!"

*BANG*

"ArgghhhhhhREEEEEEEEEEAAAAALLLLLGGGGGGG!"

Vernon felt a triumphant smile appear on his face as he beheld the lanky monster stagger back into the hallway wall, its body cracking the plaster as its long, bladed hands cup the gunshot wound. Its serpentine neck twisted so that it could see the injury, pulling its monstrous hands back Vernon felt his smile disappear as he beheld the strange black smoke that poured out of the already healing hole. The things head whipped back to face him, and Vernon didn't need for it to have a mouth the know it was grinning at him.

"Hehehe that stung," it teased as it straightened back up, the hole in its chest already sealed shut as if it had not just been shot.

Vernon did not bother replying, he merely aimed and fired another shell at the unnatural thing, this one managing to hit its emaciated gut causing it to fold over. A strange buzzing noise now accompanied the chanting in Vernon's head, but he paid it no mind as he ejected the smoking spent shells and loaded another two into the gun. By the time he had twisted back around the thing had its hands against the door frame and was slowly pushing the wall back to fit its shoulders through. Vernon didn't hesitate. Two more shots rang out, one missing entirely while the other caught it in the leg, a completely lucky shot as Vernon had been caught off guard by how bad shooting back-to-back would affect his aim. His luck held though as the creature was forced to take a knee, the shell having punched straight through one of its legs halting its forward approach for the moment.

"Oh hohoho, keep it up Vernon, the others died so easily, I can't tell you how satisfying it is to see one of you bastards put up a fight." The insane thing hissed dragging itself forward with its hands, its lanky body pulling itself over the tipped over vanity while its featureless skull stretched out to get as close to him as possible as it crawled.

Vernon was very much panicking now as he was most certainly almost within reach of the things razor-sharp fingers. Vernon got another pair of shells into the gun and twisted about to shoot when he felt a strong grip painfully clamped around his ankle. Vernon let slip a pained holler as he felt those knife-like fingers puncture his flesh and press against the bone of his shin. He pressed the barrel of the gun flush against the wrist of the hand that had latched onto his leg before pulling the trigger. With an explosion of that same black smoke, the grip came loos as the arm was pulled back sans hand. Vernon was quick to push himself back literally against the wall with a startled whimper, to avoid the other hand that swiped at just about where his stomach would have been moments before.

That horrendous buzzing was back in full as Vernon watched that same black mist that was pouring from the things stump begin to coalesce into the hand he had just moments before severed. Vernon realised that this next shot would be the last he could get off before he was in the range of the thing's long arms, so with that in mind he pulled the gun up, rested it against his shoulder and pulled the trigger, firing the last shell in the gun. Vernon had been aiming for the damn things head but its snake-like neck whipped back avoiding the shot, unfortunately for it, the shell exploded into the floor flicking wooden shrapnel up into the thing's eyes. Gone was that mind-numbing buzzing, replaced instead with the thing screeching in pain as its hands cupped its face. Its long neck flailing as it thrashed around on the floor in obvious agony, its pained spasms cracking the floor as its legs kicked out shattering the lower half of the door and clearing the way out of the room.

Vernon's eyes widened as he saw a way out appear before him, given it required him to bolt past the thrashing nightmare that was screaming bloody murder, but hope was hope. Pausing only to grab the last two shells Vernon bolted for the door his legs pounding heavily as he sprinted past the monster in pain. A sharp slash caught him across the broad side of his left thigh all the way around to his left ass cheek, but he didn't pause even as his sprint became a hobbled dash.

"VERNON! VERNON! ARGHHHHHHH!"

Vernon popped the shotgun open as he ran, removing the spent shells and leaving a trail of smoke as they flew past the fleeing man. Vernon got to the stairs and was quick to put one of the shells in when he saw the wall next to him explode outwards the looming form of the thing Harry had transformed into crashing into the adjacent wall denting it heavily. Its hands whipped blindly about it startling Vernon who was frozen in fear at the monster being but a mere meter away from him. The monster rather than pouncing on him though, punched through the wall into the upstairs bathroom as its head whipped around to show the black smoke billowing out of its eyes where the orbs of fire had been previously. Vernon realising that it was still basically blind took this as a chance to finish reloading his shotgun with his last shell.

When Vernon looked back up it was to the sight of one eye still billowing a stream of smoke and to his horror one orb of green fire that was staring straight at him. Vernon on instinct threw himself back as a clawed hand swiped down at him, sadly he did not escape unscathed as he felt one of its long, bladed fingers cut clean through his shoe and cleave into his foot amputating one of his toes. Vernon rolled down the stairs painfully, losing his grip on the shotgun as he tumbled down the stairs, his hefty body crashing into the banister cracking the wood loudly. Vernon looked up and saw the thing walking, not sprinting, not pouncing but rather just leisurely walking down the stairs as its other injured eye healed completely before reigniting in its head.

"I won't lie Vernon, you put up a much better fight than any of the others, you had me going when you ran upstairs, I figured you were too scared to think straight, but going for a gun… I didn't even know you owned a gun. Very impressive Vernon!" It barked at him with a voice like shattered glass as it reached down and scooped him off the floor by his sweater, its sharp fingers hooking into the fabric.

"But I have had enough now Vernon, it's time for you to pay for your crimes… you will die in agony and when you pass from this world, you will learn that there are far worse things than death." It hissed viciously, pulling Vernon close to its face as a halo of light that rested upon its brow seared Vernon's eyes with its radiance.

"You're right about one thing freak…" Vernon spat, smirking at how the thing snarled at being referred to as a freak. "I am damn impressive," with his piece said Vernon swiped something from his pocket with a bloody hand and palmed the thing right into Harry's monstrous chest. The reaction was immediate, in an instant, Harry went from holding Vernon to doubling over in agony as its entire body was wracked with excruciating pain. Vernon felt his ears bleed as it screamed but didn't let that halt him as he picked himself off the stairs and saw his shotgun laying amongst the bug out bags. Scooping them up in his arms Vernon limped to the garage and threw the bags into the back of the car. Smashing the open button on the garage door controller Vernon all but leapt into the driver seat, throwing the car into reverse, and slamming his foot on the gas before the door was even up.

But the car didn't move.

The tires screeched loudly as they spun against the garage floor to no effect.

Vernon looked towards the doorway that led inside and saw the thing standing there, its frame took up the entirety of the doorway and then some, its long arm stretched out as its hand clutched at the air. Slowly it squeezed its body through the door frame, Vernon however was too busy to notice as he reached into the back of the car for the Shotgun. It was in the garage now and still the car would not move, even as the acrid scent of burnt rubber began to fill the room. It was standing in front of the car now and still, its hand was up as if it was holding something. Vernon however was grateful for it choosing to stand in front of the car, after all, he wasn't a great shot.

*BANG*

The shotgun bucked against Vernon's chest launching the contents of the shell straight into the body of the furious monster… but before Vernon very eyes its other arm blurred through the air and the creature remained unscathed. Vernon prepared to fire a second shot but the same arm that it had before used to bat aside the first shot rose up and with an exaggerated movement clenched its clawed fist violently. Vernon pulled the trigger but rather than the violent bucking of the gun firing its ammunition, Vernon instead experienced the gun exploding violently in his hand. Vernon's scream of pain came out gagged as his throat clogged, his pain expressed by a breathless groan as his hand was reduced to pulp. There was a stabbing pain in his chest, but he dared not look, his focus was much better served glaring at the abomination standing triumphantly in front of him…

In front of my car.

Inspiration is a funny concept and in the moment surge of pure brilliance that propels the human mind into its next course of action. Vernon who was trapped with an undying fiend, a hand mutilated and bleeding profusely, a mangled leg and a deep stabbing pain in his chest was hit with an absolutely mad bout of inspiration. Vernon using his one good hand reached across to the gear stick and yanked it into reverse. In an instant, the direction of the wheels halted and altered with a shudder that made an ominous grinding noise. The screeching of the wheels ceased before the car jolted forward much to the monster's shock as suddenly it had a vehicle launching towards it. In an instant the car crashed into its legs and pinned them to the wall of the garage with a heavy thud, the creature letting out a piercing shriek. Vernon didn't let off the gas though, his foot remained to floor it as the car exerted more pressure on the legs of the terrifying thing.

Then the buzzing came back.

Vernon merely grit his teeth and ignored the strange humming, he focused only on crushing the freakish monster that was trying to kill him.

He looked into the monster's eyes and saw its literal burning hate for him.

He watched it lay both its hands flat against the hood.

He watched it as its eyes flared and the buzzing noise transformed into something that chilled him to the bone.

The creature was laughing with Harry's young voice.

With sadistic glee, the creature spoke but a single word in a childish voice.

"Crush."

The last thing Vernon Dursley ever heard in his mortal existence was the tortured screaming of metal as the car crumpled like paper… with him inside it.

A.N.

It is done, all of the men who actively killed Harry are dead, killed that very same night… but his revenge isn't quite over yet.

Haha, what a chapter, despite him only having two victims this time I tried to include a third party for Ash's murder to give a bit more range of view on the Herald and his actions. As for Vernon… I couldn't just kill him, not in this AU anyway because I have made certain adjustments the fact is that Vernon despite being a piece of shit, is a piece of shit who sincerely loves his family. His talk with Harry was meant to emphasise just how bad things got fucked up all around, Vernon was forced to raise a child with immense magical gifts that scared the ever-living shit out of him, and he had no way to give the child back. So, in the end, he was forced to cohabitate with something he saw as the equivalent of a very pissed off venomous snake that lived in his home that he shared with his family.

This naturally doesn't excuse his actions, hence why Harry gave him the garbage compactor treatment.

So, let's talk seriously, this chapter Is a big one it is the chapter that officially brings an end to the murdering revenge spree, but it is also the chapter that officially puts this fic above 100,00 words… and at chapter 16 no less. Also, I officially have over 50 favourites and over 70 follows now that's a pretty nice growth since the last chapter so shout out to all of you. Now moving forward with this fic things are going to start taking turns that push Harry into a slightly different magical world than the one that is depicted in the original Harry Potters, but do not worry readers our boy will end up at Hogwarts just you watch, he just has three years to kill before then.

Now comments, you lovely, wonderful lot are awesome, the comments I have got since the last chapter made me super eager to write this chapter, shit I was secretly writing it during a D&D session. So, let's go over these impressive comments.

- nlou, your support is awesome, your encouragement is a powerful driving force and I hope you continue to read and enjoy. I also hope you can stick around and see any future projects. Love your comments.

- chunnin33, the main body of the punishments are ethereal and that extends from the Heralds perception of reality. Furthermore, the Heralds sadism will at all times remain more of a tool than an actual character trait that he embraces. Thanks for the comment and by all means keep em coming.

- LordVladhe, great to see you in the comments again, gonna have to call you Lord Lad if you keep giving me this much support man, stick around because the Herald will definitely have a propensity for carnage, and if I keep getting support like this, I just might need to let him pull off some glory kill class executions.

- war-gerbil777, still by far the best username I have seen on this entire website, let me start by saying that I hope what happens to Vernon in this chapter lives up to your expectations (and if it didn't stick around for the next chapter, trust me). I'm glad that her backstory helped shed some light on why she got so invested in Harry and why it is she went to such lengths, while yes, she was acting to help Harry and I believe she was a good person I find that having a cause to rally to, a selfish personal driving force is sometimes far more powerful and relatable than mere altruism. You listing your favourite lines made me smile for ages (not blush, because I don't do that) love your comments and the support so by all means feel free to keep sending such bangers.

Now before I wrap up someone suggested that I should let you lovely readers in on the fact that while I was writing Harry's revenge scenes, I was listening to a 10-hour video on Youtube of thunderstorms to listen to the ambience of the environment in which he was committing his revenge killings. I did the same thing for the waves on the beach of Ya'vana… except you know with ambient wave sounds.

Anyway, I have blathered enough, I hope to see you all for the next chapter congrats to us for beating 100,000+ words! And I mean us because your support makes writing this so much easier. So, thank you all and as always!

Until next time.