Harry vs. the Dursleys

Guys, I've updated the P*atreon tier information! Now you can see how many chapters you'll get for each tier.

I had forgotten to include that for this story, but thanks to a reminder from the awesome Zianna, I got it sorted out.

Shout out to her and to all my wonderful readers who always support me!

Link : pa*treon.com/thebookaddict (Remove the *)

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Chapter 13 "Harry vs. the Dursleys"

Harry had just finished buying a number of shirts at a place called 'T-Shirts with Attitude' and checking the time on his new watch, realised it was almost dinner time.

Vernon should be home now.

Ducking into a cafe restroom a few blocks away, Harry soundlessly disappeared then reappeared on the lawn of #4 Privet Drive.

As he took a look around, Harry kind of hoped some of the neighbours were peeking through their curtains and had seen him arrive. He really wanted to destroy the nice comfortable illusion his so-called family had built for themselves. He saw Vernon's car in the driveway, along with the car he remembered Dudley getting from Vernon on his birthday last year. That meant the whole family was home, since Petunia rarely went anywhere without Vernon or Dudley.

The front door was locked, which no real surprise, but it wasn't much of an impediment either. Brushing his fingers across the lock, Harry let his magic manipulate the tumblers. Hearing the lock click, he opened the door and slipped carefully inside, softly closing it behind him. He didn't want the Dursleys knowing he was here… just yet.

A quick glance in the sitting room and the muffled noise of the television and conversation told him they were probably having dinner in the kitchen.

"Petunia! Vernon! Dudley! I'm hoooommmmmeeeee!" Harry shouted in a falsely cheerful voice.

There was the sound of something hitting the floor with a crash. Before Vernon could rush into the hall to try and threaten him, Harry strode into the kitchen and got a surprise of his own. Marge Dursley was sitting at the table, wine glass in hand.

Oh this is going to be fun! Harry mentally rubbed his hands with glee.

Vernon had gotten to his feet, but before he could say anything, Marge who was slightly drunk, spoke up. "What are you doing here, boy ? Vernon told me you'd been sent to prison for killing one of those delinquents at that school of yours. Always knew you'd come to a bad end. As I said before, breeding will tell in the end. What can you expect from a drunkard and a slut but a murderer."

At that moment Vernon Dursley was just grateful that looks couldn't kill, not even for his freak of a nephew's kind. The boy's emerald eyes had become chips of green ice in an expressionless face and it seemed as though the temperature in the room was dropping as the boy said in a raspy voice, "Shut up you drunken bitch!"

Unwilling to let this freak insult his sister, Vernon growled. "Now see here boy, you will not speak to my sister like that. You will treat her with respect, or I warn you, you will pay. "

Before Harry had a chance to comment on Vernon's threat Marge, who had recovered from her surprise at being yelled at by someone she'd always been able to heap abuse on before, came around the table and jabbed Harry in the chest with her pudgy finger. "I won't shut up, you ungrateful whelp. You were taken into this home out of the goodness of my brother's heart."

Harry snorted at this as he thought, they were saving their own skins.

" Though why he did it is beyond me. " Marge continued, not having hearing the snort. "Personally, I think you're a waste of space. Then after all the blessings my brother has given you what do you do, you go and disgrace this family by killing someone and getting sent to prison for it. Vernon should have gotten rid of you the morning they found you on their doorstep."

To Vernon, it was like watching a train wreck about to happen, knowing he couldn't stop it. He remembered very well though Marge didn't, what happened the last time she'd provoked the boy. Vernon should have been relieved that there were no overt signs of magic, such as the lights flickering or things in the kitchen shaking, but he wasn't. The expression on the freak's face didn't bode well for either his family or for Marge. He wanted to intervene, but didn't out of fear of being turned into a toad or something.

It was clear to Vernon that whatever kind of prison those freaks had kept the boy in for killing that other freak, it had changed him. The eyes, he had hated because they were so full of fire and that showed the boy's refusal to break no matter what had been done to him, were now as cold as ice. Vernon shuddered as he looked into them.

"SILENCE!" Harry roared causing Marge to squeak and back up until she hit the table, shoving it back against Dudley, splattering the food on his plate all over him. Harry noticed that that didn't stop him from scarfing down everything he could get his hands on though.

Harry moved closer like a cat stalking its prey. Marge tried to get away from the angry young man. She was beginning to realise that she may have pushed him too far, especially given that he had already killed someone.

Hoping that the boy still had a fear of being expelled from that freakish school of his, Vernon tried to get control of the situation. "How many times have I told you I will not have any of that unnaturalness in my house? You know what will happen if you do anything. "

"Nothing will happen to me, Vernon." Harry hissed like a snake, his eyes still on Marge. "They won't expel me for doing magic. You want to know why. Because Dumb ledore wants me there."

The cold eyes focused on Vernon as Harry spoke loud enough to be heard by all in the room. "Marge, do you want to know why your precious brother took me into his home and wouldn't get rid of me even though he also felt I was a waste of space? It had nothing to do with kindness. It was to save his own arse and that of his cow of a wife and pig of a son. You see as long as I lived here, they were safe from Voldemort. You remember Voldemort, Vernon, the wizard that killed my parents."

Hearing the word 'wizard' and feeling slightly braver at this indication that the boy was insane, Marge spoke up again. "Wizard?! There's no such thing. Prison must've addled your wits, boy. What few you had. "

Marge shrank back as the cold green eyes turned back to her.

"This is your one and only warning Marge Dursley. You will remain silent from this point on, or I assure you, you will regret opening your mouth. You see, magic is real ." Never taking his eyes off Marge, Harry waved his hand in the general direction of Petunia and the broken bowl that was still lying at her feet. The bowl quickly reassembled and floated into his outstretched hand.

He continued laying down the law. "While I am here, Marge Dursley, you will keep your opinions to yourself. If I hear one comment from you regarding either me or my parents, I promise you will learn first hand why it is not a good idea to meddle in the affairs of wizards."

He gave Marge a considering look and knowing just how stubborn her brother could be, decided to give her a reminder of just what could happen if he was crossed. "You're probably trying to convince yourself that what I just did was nothing more than a stage magician's parlour trick. Let me show you just how wrong that idea is. I'm going to give you back your real memories of the events that happened in this very house three years ago, so you'll have an idea of what I can do to you."

Snapping his fingers, Harry watched with satisfaction as Marge's face went pasty white before she collapsed onto the kitchen floor.

Seeing his mistress lying on the floor, Ripper raced out to attack the threat to her. He recognized the scent of the new two legs as being one he regularly put in its place at the bottom of the pack when he was here. He growled threateningly at the two legs but instead of being terrified and running as he had before, the two legs raised its paw.

The bulldog quickly noticed that he was rising and his paws scrabbled frantically as they no longer felt solid ground beneath him. When he was at eye level with the strange two legs, he instinctively knew something had changed.