Harry Potter Getting Even

"What did you do you little freak?!" he demanded, advancing on Harry with his fist raised. Normally this would have caused Harry to drop and cower in fear, but now Harry just smirked and tightened his fist, watching in fascination as Vernon froze, unable to move. The spell was one he had read about in the Black library - it would bind the victim and the more they struggled the tighter the bindings got. It was based on devil's snare, interestingly enough.

Harry took a step forward and, with flourish, dropped his fist down, causing Vernon to drop painfully to his knees. "Now uncle, let's not do anything we'll regret now," Harry said, his voice mockingly soft.

" F-freak! Release me at once! " Vernon ordered, his voice not as loud as it had once been and his face taking on a distinctly fearful look. Harry watched in glee as he struggled, knowing he was causing himself further pain; and although he didn't like torture, he was suddenly gaining an understanding for it.

Sighing in mock sympathy, Harry took another step forward so that now he was only a foot away from Vernon before he spoke again, "I think it's time we established some new rules. Don't you agree?"

"S-stop it," Vernon said.

"I asked you a question, uncle," Harry said.

"What is it you want, boy ?" Vernon spat out eventually.

"I want to be left alone," Harry said. "No cooking, no cleaning, you will pretend like I don't exist and I will do the same for you and your family."

"Fine," Vernon growled the word out.

Stepping back, Harry released the spell. Vernon sank even further down before surging forward. Expecting this, Harry raised his hand and stupefied him before turning his eyes to his real audience. Petunia stood at the top of the stairs white faced and shaking, her hand covering her mouth in terror.

"Like I said, I no longer exist," Harry said to his aunt, who quickly nodded her head.

"Is-is he d-dead?" Petunia whispered.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, not this time. However, I do think it would be wise of you to explain how our arrangement works, to both him and Dudley. It would be a shame if any unpleasant accidents happened because they forgot the new rules."

Petunia nodded again, her beady eyes darting between Harry and Vernon's prone form. "Yes, yes of course," she said, practically vibrating in her fear.

Happy, Harry turned and made his way towards the kitchen to make himself something to eat before he stopped just shy of the door. "Oh and aunty, I will be receiving my letter today, you know the one. So don't expect me back until tonight."

Harry's words made her pale even further and for a moment he thought she would actually faint. Bemused, Harry continued on his way before he froze and practically ran back to the hallway.

Grabbing Petunia by the arm, Harry looked into her eyes and placed a secrecy jinx. She would be unable to tell anybody what she now knew apart from whoever Harry wished.

This way she would be unable to tell Dumbledore or anybody else if they ever came sniffing about for answers - it would even work against Legilimens. He would do the same to Vernon once he woke up.

Happy with what he had accomplished in just a few short minutes, Harry returned to his previous task and went about cooking his breakfast. Just as he was about to plate up, Dudley came running into the kitchen.

Seeing Harry, he turned and made his way towards him. Sighing, as it was clear Petunia hadn't had a chance to talk to her oversized son, Harry wondered for a fleeting second if he could get away with just killing them.

Harry didn't really condone casual murder, but when he thought about everything his family had done to him, every beating and nights left starving, he really considered just ending them now.

Harry couldn't believe how passive the potions had made him, how they had made him ignore the beatings and be forgiving about the abuse.

"Stop," Harry said, the chilling tone making Dudley do just that, almost comically freezing.

However, like his father, Dudley would never be considered smart. After a second, he narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. The look on his face, Harry decided, was supposed to be menacing, but looked vaguely like he was constipated.

Turning back to the stove, Harry turned off the hob before turning back to Dudley. It was clear the boy was confused by Harry's actions and was wavering on what to do. Luckily for him, he picked the smarter option.

" Mum !" he wailed, smirking when he thought about the trouble Harry would be in.

Petunia appeared like a bat out of hell, almost panting in her effort to get to her son. Harry watched in amusement as she looked between them and grabbed Dudley. "What is it, diddums?" she asked shakily.

"The freak was cooking," he said, sending a glare at Harry, who at this point had his omelette on his plate and was considering if he wanted to add sauce.

Petunia squeaked in terror and looked at Harry, who just raised an eyebrow, smirking, before taking a bite of his omelette.

"Diddy-kins, I need you to come with me. We need to have a chat about how we treat Harry," Petunia said, practically dragging him from the room as he protested.

With that over, Harry made his way upstairs and into Dudley's second bedroom. Looking around in disgust at the broken toys and rubbish cluttering the floor, Harry waved his hands and watched as it was banished. Next, he used a liberal about of scouring and repairing charms on the walls, floors, and door.

Looking at the furniture, Harry attempted a few simple transfigurations, not anything too fancy as, even with his power increase, he was still working without a wand and with his limited knowledge of transfiguration.

Whilst he had been practically living in the Black library, he hadn't studied up on it, focusing more on darker arts and soul magic in the hope of finding an answer to his problems.

However, even with his limited knowledge, Harry was able to create a comfortable looking bed, with matching side table, desk, and wardrobe as well as a desk chair. Happy with the sparsely furnished room, Harry turned to leave, adding a muggle repelling ward to the doorway as an afterthought.