Edited 04/25/2020
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: Thank you to those who reviewed. I'm able to type more during this time than I normally would. I'll keep posting for at least the rest of the week. Then it will turn into one chapter a week.
New power from the second stage ripped through his body healing his wounds. He ripped off his blood-stained shirt and wiped what filth he could from his body. His blood was everywhere. It stained the pothole covered foundation of London's back alleys. A small spray even covered the wall behind him. Along with the blood was the hole in a building.
His deft hands dug through the concrete wall until he grasped something metallic. Hot metal scalded his fingers as he ripped the bullet out. The tips of his fingers had been burned white with angry red skin growing around the burns. In his hand was a flattened silver jacket wrapped hunk of brass. He pocketed the bullet.
Harry froze as someone stepped into range. The person reached for his gun and Harry moved. He took a step backwards sending his body shooting 1.8 meters back and landed on his back foot. He twisted and drove his elbow upward striking a constable in his bullet proof vest.
Just as the 188cm tall man's feet left the ground Harry grabbed the man's knee dashed forward arresting the man's momentum. The man crashed to the ground out of breath but alive.
Harry thrust his fist in the air in victory. He'd managed not to kill one.
Just as the man unholstered his gun Harry kicked it away. The man started coughing as he glared at Harry in a mix of confusion and anger. Harry smiled apologetically. Then he took the man's jacket and gun.
"Sorry constable, it's for a good cause." Harry looked the gun over, before spotting the safety. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in teaching me how to use it." The man continued to glare at Harry while wheezing for breath.
"I'll take that as a no. Well sir, thanks for your help. Don't worry you probably won't see me again." Harry dashed down an alley just as he sensed another constable around a corner.
Harry put on the gas going into a full sprint. He saw a ledge up above and jumped for it. His hands easily gripped the stone before he kicked off the building. He felt the air whistle past his ears, and he felt weightless. When he arrived on the alcove of the next building over, he rolled over on it.
After his second jump, he was two stories over the back alley. Up above he was safe as the constables continued their search. It was dark before Harry started moving again. Harry bent low and jumped his legs kicked out as his momentum ceased and gravity took over. He went from the alcove to the roof of a three-story building. Despite the rush to his heart and the flailing of his legs, he barely felt it when he landed. Harry held his hand to his chest. His heart pounded loud enough for the constables to hear down below.
It was by rooftop; he made his way to some apartments and took their fire escape down. In the dark he began to make a run for private drive.
Harry had gained a lot of run experience in his life from being chased. This was the first time running became a form of travel. It took him roughly half an hour to run 48km. Harry took a step and felt cold air on his foot. He looked down to see his shoe split open like the mouth of a puppet his white socks the tongue. He took a step with his other foot and felt the same thing.
He reached a hand in his pocket and heard cloth tear. Cold air hit his thigh as his jeans tore from thigh to knee. When he reached for the gun his shirt gave way before falling into tatters. Dudley's hand-me-downs weren't built for hard living.
Under the cover of night, he returned home. From below the second floor he leapt up hanging on to a window seal. Slowly, his window opened by his own hand friction. It was a rather warm night, so no condensation had appeared yet.
Harry crawled into his room and put on a new set of cloths. He opened the door to his room quietly. This wasn't the first time he'd snuck around his house. In his younger years, it was the only way to ensure he ate enough to survive. Only, he didn't hear the snoring Dursleys. He heard chanting and incense in the air. Sea breeze if he wasn't mistaken. It was Aunt Petunia's least favorite scent.
He sampled the fragrance and realized it was salty like sea air. The chant sounded strange and guttural. Harry gripped the sides of his head as the words echoed but never went away. They added on top of each other as if he'd heard them each at different times at the same time. The words held no frame of reference. Harry pulled his hands away and saw them painted crimson with blood. And the words continued to mount on top of each other forming something Harry didn't understand.
Harry pulled the gun free and squeezed the trigger. He couldn't fire it. With insight drawn from desperation, he found the safety and turned it off.
Click!
Click!
Click! Click! Click! Click!
Harry dropped the cylinder then saw it was fully loaded. He slammed the clip back inside and pulled back on the hammer. Now it was right, he'd stop the chanting.
He pulled the trigger preparing for the sound.
Click!
With a sigh he flicked the safety back on and holstered the gun. Whatever this was it messed with firearms. He took a step down the stairs and tossed the gun at Uncle Vernon. The gun tumbled through the air before hitting the chubby man in the face. His lips split apart, and his teeth shattered.
None of his relatives moved. They remained seated chanting. Harry swept over them with his sixth sense and felt something off. There was something missing. He had no idea what it was only its absence mattered.
He looked over to see Uncle Vernon joining in with the chant. His ruined face didn't stop him. There was no pain in his eyes or life. Harry found a dish rag and gagged Dudley.
Harry could feel the pounding in his head grow worse with each word. He smashed Vernon's knee into ruin sending the fat man to the floor. Another kick sent the fat man on his back. Harry glared down at Vernon then stomped his face turning his jaw into pulp.
"This should have felt amazing. It was my revenge my severing of karma with you for all time. Killing you three like this feels like a favor. The scale is uneven."
Harry kicked the couch Dudley sat. The ten-year-old fell over with it. His cousin tumbled and slid out of the room.
Harry locked on to the book he tried to burn. It hovered in the air floating menacingly. Harry threw a punch charged with qi. His blow was met by a blue barrier. The book had protections of its own. Clenching his fists Harry delivered a flurry of blows knocking the book against a wall. "You will undo what you did to the Dursleys. I want my revenge." Harry yelled at the book.
While he was distracted something hit him from the side. Harry smacked it away feeling bone and flesh tear from his blow. He turned to see aunt petunia on the floor with her face torn open. Her teeth were clearly visible through her cheek. She continued to speak in the strange prayers of the book.
The house was starting to shake as the book vibrated in the air. Books flew from the shelves pelting Harry as he approached the book. He came here for answers and clothes, but he'd have to look elsewhere. Broken glass hit him in the back opening his skin as a pot smashed against his face. A force grabbed ahold of Harry and flung him against a wall.
Uncle Vernon stood up. Strange fish scales covered his face as the book floated to him. The lower jaw of a trout grew where his lower jaw had been. "Boy you'll pay for your freakishness. You'll wish you never left the cupboard."
"No, the scales will be balanced." Harry yelled and then quietly spoke. "I don't care if this is you or not uncle."
Harry watched the book land on Uncle Vernon's hand. The pages began to turn, and something poured from the book into Vernon. A sense of danger overcame Harry and he moved.
He leapt kicking the bottom of Uncle Vernon's hand knocking the book in the air. With one of the frying pans that hit him, he knocked the book through one of the windows. Just as the book exited the widow Uncle Vernon's hands wrapped around Harry's neck.
Harry fell, and Vernon's knees fell on his shoulders. His feet kicked as he tried to bring his strength to bear but there was no room. Vernon's girth held him flat to the ground. Harry twisted his shoulders but couldn't bring enough force.
He couldn't move blood dripped down from Vernon's ruined face. Harry struggled and moved only for Petunia and Dudley to hold his legs down. Vernon continued to choke him as his struggles grew weaker.
Harry felt his eyes and veins bulge out. He felt like his arteries would burst. They were going to kill him. He would die, because he came back here. This place the only home he'd ever known.
If he stayed the same, he'd die here and now. This place may have been where he lived but it was never a home.
Harry's hand lifted off the ground and his finger pointed up. Green qi glowed at the tip of his finger dim at first then blinding. The house shook and rumbled as Harry unleashed his first magic.
"Sever," Harry mouthed.
Chapter end
Next chapter Sever the Dursleys
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