A/N: Well, this is it, the Grande Finale of this story. I hope you liked it so far and will like this too! I can assure you that I was not under the influence of any recreational substances nor possessed by a demon while writing this chapter! Thank you to DS2010 for leaving the reviews! And now please enjoy and have fun!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe nor any characters in it, it is owned by JK Rowling and a whole lot of other companies. Sometimes I wish it wasn't.
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Harry went up the stairs and into his room. Hedwig hooted with joy as she saw the door open and her owner come in. She watched him with great curiosity as he looked battered and beaten, while a trail of Ice Cream and Jam marked the way he took. He went over to her and patted the birds head. The owl gave low hoots of affection and enjoyed the attention. Harry then noticed the letter Hermione had written him and that he should start to develop a plan.
"I'll have to do this today. I wont clean this up. I can't clean it up, it's absolutely impossible. What do you suggest?" Harry asked Hedwig as she watched with her big yellow eyes.
The reply came in form of an inquisitive look and a beak pointing in the direction of the letter.
"Do you want me to write to Hermione?", Harry asked.
Hedwig shook her head and then looked at the picture of his parents dancing.
"My parents? Hedwig, my parents are dead, you know that."
Hedwig hooted. She knew that they were and also that the Dursleys only kept him as a slave and entertainment device. The owl wanted Harry to write a letter to the Dursley dictators, a threat and a few demands being its content. Knowing that they were gone and only Dudley remained, two hostages were at her owner's fingertips. Dudley and the house. Just how could she communicate this to him?
"What do you want me to do, Hedwig?", asked Harry as he watched his pet jump on the parchment and pick the quill up with her beak.
"I suppose you want me to write a letter and I have to guess names until you agree?" Harry asked to which Hedwig hooted and nodded her ridiculously flexible head.
"Ron?" … "Hermione?" … "Any Weasley?" … "Someone from School?" … "The escaped mass murderer?", to which she just looked very confused and shook her head. "The Minister for Magic?" … "Anyone not living in this house?" … "Vernon? Petunia?", Hedwig nodded.
"Are you alright, girl? Did you eat something rotten? Scabbers? Please tell me you didn't eat him, Ron will push me in front of the Hogwarts express if you did! Although the thing is disgusting, even for a rat… I don't know why Ron keeps it and doesn't trade with Hagrid for one of his pets, would probably be beneficial for both, he could appease everything in the forest with it, I bet." Harry drifted off while Hedwig rolled her eyes.
"HOOT!", Hedwig screeched which caused Harry to become close associates with the floor.
"But what do you want me to write to them? I don't suppose a Love Letter, I do doubt that they will believe that…", Harry pondered and wondered. " Shall we do the guessing game again?"
Hedwig wanted to poop on his head. After many trials and even more errors Harry finally came to understand her plan. He was not thoroughly in favor of it and played with the idea to send Hedwig to the mass murderer, ask him to attach a letter bomb to Hedwig and send her off to his relatives, but doubted Hedwigs compliance.
Dear Vernon and Petunia
I have, after many struggles, successfully captured Dudley and Fortress Dursley. To ever see both of them alive and well again, you must accept all of my demands without compromises that would benefit you. I do not negotiate with terrorists. If you are willing to do so, sign your names on this paper, attach it to Hedwig and send it back to me, she will know where I am. Should you choose to involve law enforcement or any other state services, everything you hold dear will burn. This is not a threat, it is a fact.
Love, Harry
He attached the letter to Hedwig's ankle and she was off on her merry way. Feeling strangely energetic, he went to see how well his stash of "Hellfire" was doing. Over the years, he snuck away matches out of their boxes, only a few at a time and collected the potassium chlorate on the match head. When Vernon had his grill parties in the backyard, Harry was of course the cook, he also took a few pieces of charcoal with him, grinded them into pulverized form and mixed it with the other ingredients. At present, he had about 700 grams of the substance. Its original purpose was to set the house on fire when he left them for good, but now was an opportunity he didn't want to lose. Paired with the gasoline in Vernon's car and a decline of the demands, the Dursley were doomed.
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"Conan, what is best in life?"
"To crush your enemies, see them driven before you and to hear the lamentation of their women!"
'But what about Ice Cream?', Dudley thought and was quite frankly shocked, in his mind there were no better things than Ice Cream and everyone denying this was nothing but a filthy liar, freak and only slightly better than Harry. Only his worldview was right and every other was wrong, that's what made him so special and not like the little freak that Harry was.
He picked up a jam-covered TV remote and threw it at the jam-covered screen, which then broke. Then he got angry that the screen didn't work and swore revenge on Harry. Failing to keep his attention on the dead god of the living room and the heathen who supposedly killed him, he got up and noticed an unnatural amount of jam in the living room. Unable to move his feet through the World War 1 trench conditions of the living room, he started to do what he did best, he began to eat the jam. It tasted very good, but Dudley wished that he had bread and butter to go with it.
The way Dudley looked would best be described as a humanoid vacuum cleaner that was powered by an internal black hole. He moved on all fours, everything in front of him that wasn't nailed and welded down got sucked in, no mercy was shown to the weak and unlucky. The things fortunate enough to survive the extinction event couldn't bare to witness the death of all their companions and developed a very severe depression.
The houses toilet had had so much literal contact with the Dursley family, that it had developed semi-consciousness. It could feel when it would be feeding time and now it was ecstatic, unable to remember a happier feeling in its "life". The rats of the sewer, well remembering "The Rape of Plumbing", were feeling also feeling it. Too many of them were unable to live through such horrors again and took the easier way out. A mass suicide by drowning took place, causing dire consequences for the sewer system. Soon it would lead to a declaration of a national emergency and the entirety of Southern England would be placed under quarantine.
After Dudley had finished, he was still feeling hungry, but there were no more foods left to devour and so he wept. Trying to eat the floor was no good, it tasted overwhelmingly like dog poop, something he ate 3 times and was not a big fan of.
Leaving an overwhelming presence of destruction in his wake, he made his way up to the bathroom, where he could swear that he saw the toilet lid open on its own. Infernal, ear shattering noises were heard all the way up to London for the next 45 minutes. It caused 18 planes to drop from the sky as the many fart-frequencies were interrupting the communication between the tower and planes.
All on the streets people with "The end is nigh!" and "Judgement Day has come!" cardboard shields could be seen, praising all the gods they believed in and pleading to be forgiven their many sins. The British Armed Forces got the order to prepare for an immediate attack, but no one could figure out from where it came. Some suspected the Nazis to attack from their much-rumored moon base, others thought the Soviets from their undersea base would be the ones and others again thought of mutated Vikings and French Super-soldiers.
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Petunia and Vernon were sitting inside the car, watching the hospital burning down in front of them.
Hedwig, traumatized from nearly being sucked in a jet turbine from a falling plane, landed in front of the windshield after pooping on it.
"Not that RUDDY BIRD!", Vernon screamed after 3 seconds, his brain was a bit slower since the specialists cut out the wrong part. It left his anger potential at about one percent of the pre heart attack level, but that was still fifty percent higher than the average person. The clinic they sent Vernon to, claimed to never have seen a brain like his, as it was dangerously small, except for the parts that caused the anger, those were of Himalayan proportions. The operation was not easy, as even in deep unconsciousness, Vernon managed to break 3 arms and 1 skull.
Petunia got out of the car and picked the little piece of paper of the owl's leg. She read it, looked up, looked down and read it again. After that, she started to leash out at the bird, which narrowly escaped and flew high up in the air. She unleashed the stored ammunition for exactly the thing that just had happened, as was anticipated, causing about 500 little turds to rain down on Petunia. She in turn ripped the parchment apart into tiny pieces. Hedwig knew what that meant and she was more than pleased with it. Leaving a Petunia and Dursley family car that both looked like they had caught a form of bubonic plague behind, Hedwig made her way back to her owner.
After seeing hundreds upon hundreds of people fighting over who the one true god was, while the military built road blocks and deployed ICBMs with nuclear warheads, she perched herself down on the familiar window shelf of Harrys room. The inhabitant of said room was lying on the floor, unresponsive to her methods of persuasion.
Harry had been closest to ground zero as it happened. He was thrown against the wall and had nearly died on impact, were it not for accidental magic protecting him.
Hedwig proceeded to dive-bomb into him and was, after a few dozen attempts, successful in waking him up from his deep slumber. Sadly, it was all in vain, as she noticed the blood-splattered and battered looking Dursley car pull into the driveway. Vernon, looking like he could cosplay as a living tomato without any make-up and Petunia, who managed to fix red laser-dots on the heads of the protestors that dared to look at her, got out of the car and started to head for the front door.
Dudley, unable to feel his legs, crawled down from the remains of the semi-conscious toilet and used his last strength to head for the front door of the house, he needed fresh air, the gas chamber that was the bathroom could not ever be used again. The international scientific community would soon be debating if it should be seen as an accurate representation of the conditions on the gas-planet Saturn, but the demise of all the testing personnel sent in to measure the relevant data, as well as the destruction of all equipment ended it fairly quickly.
Just as Dudley was in front of the door, a new Big Bang happened. It happened inside of him, his digestive tract accelerated his body to Mach-speed in a fraction of a microsecond. Vernon and Petunia couldn't have seen it coming. Their son burst through the front wall, took them along with him and they came to a halt inside Ms. Figgs house.
Their lives were saved by a bunch of protesters they picked up as they flew over the street, the lives of the protesters were not saved by the wall of the house. Ms. Figg was fairly unamused, as she saw them crash through the front wall as she was enjoying her tea. Neither were her cats very entertained, they all rather enjoyed sleeping. Yet sleeping was near impossible, death and destruction usually causes a bit of this pesky, loud thing called noise.
The Dursleys got up, told their apologies to an unimpressed Ms. Figg and pledged to make it up to her, for the sake of neighborhood peace. She didn't really believe it, as the only somewhat sane member of Privet Drive Number 4 was Harry Potter, he was also the only one she could stand.
Harry saw what had happened through his window and was now frantically trying to build an incendiary grenade from the resources available to him. Hedwig used her aerial superiority to attack the crusading Dursleys, yet they seemed unimpressed by anything the owl did. Harry saw that he didn't have enough time nor the right tools to build his weapon, so a new plan of attack was made. Kamikaze. He would charge with all the makeshift armor available to him and try to inflict as much damage as possible. It was his only chance and maybe, just maybe, he would survive and live to tell the tale to his children with names that wouldn't make them suicidal.
Pillow and Dudleys spiked whip as shield and weapon, he charged. Vernon punched through the pillow and Harry slammed through the wall, where he was left unconscious, unintended magic had saved his life once again. Vernon, Petunia and Dudley were not kind, but they didn't kill him. For fear of magical retribution and Petunias reasoning that he had to clean the place up.
Harry lived, or more accurately, survived. He cleaned the entire house, the entire street and pretty much the rest of England. Within a week he was done, Marge and her pet demon were the next challenge he had to master. Everyone in the country celebrated for there was no war and the attack was just a case of bad digestion. Everything was alright again.
THE END.