Chapter Three:
I should probably explain Harry's current situation more clearly. Harry has just arrived home from his sixth year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After the death of Sirius and Dumbledore, Harry's begun to fall apart. He'd been putting off the Horcruxes for so long, it is almost his seventeenth birthday. Now with Ron lost from his side, Harry is starting to experience the first signs of losing his sanity- or so you think…
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Harry sat on his bed, a crazy malicious grin wide on his face. He began to laugh. A very high-pitched laugh. He was wringing his hands together and starting to foam at the mouth. After a while he calmed down and began to plot his revenge on the Dursley's. After minutes of thinking, he had nothing. So he stepped out into the hallway. He could hear hushed voices traveling up the stairs, but he didn't stop and listen.
Harry decided to venture into his aunt and uncle's room to see if this could trigger any ideas. Aha! While rummaging through his aunt's bedside cabinet, he'd found it. Another stash of money. What was going on? Where was all this money coming from? Just then, his aunt walked into the room and noticed Harry. "What are you doing, you great stinking oaf?" she yelled. "Where's all this money coming from?" Harry asked, his voice quietly dangerous. He pulled the gun out from his pocket and pointed it at his aunt. "I-I-" she stuttered. "I'm a robber!" she finally admitted. "Aha!" Harry yelled, grabbed the giant money stash, and ran out of the room, the same scary laughter coming out of his mouth. His aunt just stood stunned near the door of her bedroom.
Harry ran down the stairs and met Dudley in the middle. They both stopped and stared. Then Dudley's fist came flying through the air and hit Harry straight in the face. His glasses shattered. "Arghhhh," Harry screamed and punched back. He his Dudley so hard, he went crashing all the way down the stairs. He hit his head on the bottom floor and didn't get back up. He heard his aunt shriek from the top of the stairs, but didn't dare move for Harry had pulled out the gun again.
Uncle Vernon came running into the room. "You killed him, you killed him!" his uncle screamed and ran toward Dudley. He definitely had not killed him, for Dudley was already making small noises again and beginning to wake up. His uncle glared up at his face, "I would call the cops on you, boy, if you weren't all funny and weird. I know what you would do to them. Now, GET OUT!" Harry just shrugged, pocketed the gun, and walked out the front door. That was enough revenge for now, he decided.