Harry Potter

Harry Potter plopped down on the chair, exhausted. He adjusted his glasses but a thump coming from the stairs sent him tumbling off his chair and onto the ground.

Hearing many things crack in many places, Harry got up and rubbed his head. He stood on his tiptoes and peered out of the grate on the door to the cupboard under the stairs and growled softly as he saw his disgusting cousin, Dudley, lick ice cream of of his fingers and then rub them all over his popping, stained shirt and waltz out the door.

A few seconds later, Aunt Petunia followed him. Uncle Vernon lingered, he turned around and unlocked the cupboard. Harry quickly ducked under his gargantuan arm and stretched, breathing in the fresh air and hoping for a moment that Uncle Vernon would feed him before tamping down his hope.

Uncle Vernon turned, making the whole house shudder under his weight.

"Stupid boy!" He shouted thickly at Harry, "If you leave the cupboard before we come back I won't feed you for two days."

Harry had already been locked in the cupboard for the whole day and he was in no mood to put up with Uncle Vernon's stupid shows of dominance.

Harry arched an eyebrow caustically, "Maybe you should try that on Dudley. He sure needs it."

Vernon's face turned purple and his eyes narrowed, trying to figure out if Harry was serious. Eventually he just shoved Harry back into the cupboard, locked the door, and left.

Harry didn't care, he had a way out, he waited until the sounds of the car had long faded and got down to business. Now that Vernon was finally gone, Harry could do whatever he wanted. He simply pushed the door open and calmly removed the wax from in between the doorjamb and stepped out.

Harry was licking a chocolate ice-cream cone and watching TV when he heard the sounds of someone walking through the door. Harry rolled his eyes and flicked off the TV. He honestly didn't care if Vernon found him at this point, Harry had stolen a knife from the kitchen a few months ago and had been spending his free time under the cupboard practicing defending himself.

As it turns out, Harry didn't need the knife. Five burglars had entered the house and were frankly, quite shocked when they found an eleven year-old boy leaning against a doorframe, calmly licking an ice-cream cone, and casually flipping a cleaver in one hand. Watching them.

The main burglar leveled his gun at Harry's face, "Scram kid. And don't call the police."

Harry rolled his eyes, "I'm not here to rat you out." He said excruciatingly slowly, "I want to join you."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm joining your cause and there's nothing you can do to convince me otherwise."

"Don't you have a family to live with or something."

"Just abusers."

That night as Harry sat by the fire in an abandoned apartment with all of his new pals he excused himself to go do one thing.

Mr, Mrs, and young Dudley Dursley were all found dead by pillow suffocation the next morning. The crime was left unsolved.

*Harry Potter and the Crime Syndicate.*