The Dursley's were a perfectly normal family thank you very much for asking they were the Pinnacle of how everything should be but they had a terrible secret about 70 years ago Petunia's freakish sister (she would deny her existence if you asked about it) and good for nothing husband were murdered leaving them with their freakish son
вυт ησт ƒσя мυ¢н ℓσηgєя
Harry's POV
Eyelids fluttered open revealing bright green eyes as the boy awoke with a small smile. For the past 3 years have been more bearable for Freak because of his bubba, Tom, Freak didn't know why no one else could see bubba, but bubba did explain about magic and how to use it to him and if no one else could see him it also meant it could keep his bubba all to himself! Freak stretched as well as he could in his cramped cupboard before putting on the only outfit he had before waiting for his aunt or Uncle to let him out he waited for about 6 minutes before his hearing loud footsteps coming down the stairs. So, it's Vernon who's letting him out this time this should be fun he thought as he giggled, freak new he wasn't normal this his desires to see the inside of everything to learn, to see, ₮ØɄ₵Ⱨ ,
t̵̼̝̮͖̯́̋̇̿ͫͣ͘_̖ͮͤͅą̳͚̪͍̲̗̣͚͇̹͍̻̲̱͖̃̔ͭ̆͊̈́ͣ͛͊̿͛̆̄ͩ̓͋̐͋́̚͜͝͞͞s̯͕ͫ͡t̡̧̡͙̹͍͖̬̟̳̮ͮ́̀ͤͧ̆ͦ̔̋̊̎ͩ̒͐̒͒͆̎͞͞ë̶̛͎̖̺̙́̒̄̐͐̈́̎̀̓ͯͧ̓͑͞ͅ
was enough for him to know that, though he knows that Dursley's feared him because of his magic as bubba told him so. he was shuffled out of his thoughts as Vernon slammed the door open throwing him on the floor. Well, that's ribs probably bruised! Freak thought bored (another thing e never understood emotions or the typical pain), oh well it'll heal eventually, he turned his attention back to his whale of an uncle listening to him rambling on about all Freak had to do today ending it with an ominous statement that intrigued freak more.
Vernon POV
-and if you do anything freakish today boy it will be your last day and out to the shed it will be with you!” Vernon dursley grinned, he was a good honest man and having to deal with the freakishness of his wonderful wife's, bitch of a sister's spawn always made his blood boil, they couldn't get rid of the boy at the time because of the damn old bastard and his henchmen watching them at all times…. At least until last year, when they seemed to have disappeared giving him the perfect time to dispose of the freak and all he had to do was wait until tonight. He's just lucky his beautiful tuna didn't and won't question why he made the shed in the first place.
Harry's POV few hours later
Freak didn't know what he did wrong (in all honesty he probably didn't do anything wrong he thought) but at one point he was washing the dishes the next is uncle was in his face yelling at him before grabbing his arm twisting it and dragging him out to the shed, when freaks saw the door open his face drained of the little color it had before his vision went black, he saw what his uncle had meant, his last vision was of a cross and ropes ready to be tied.
Vernon POV
As they near the shed Vernon grabbed the shovel after throwing the freak onto the floor relishing in the look of fear in his eyes other than the expressionless mask he usually had before hitting him on the head with the shovel knocking him out and then tying him to the cross and grabbing his tools he would need…
Hours went by as he hacked, cut, and whipped the boy before dousing him in acid with relish before a last gruesome thought made him smile, he took the scalpel from the table and worked it into the boys right eye socket removing the eye with a squelch making the boy come back to consciousness with a cry. It's a shame it's too late for the freak thought Vernon as he lit the match.
ⱧɆ ⱤɆ₳ⱠⱠɎ ₴ⱧØɄⱠĐ Ⱨ₳VɆ ⱠØØ₭ɆĐ ฿₳₵₭ ₳₮ ₩Ⱨ₳₮ ⱧɆ ĐØ₦Ɇ
Harry's POV
Everything hurts! I - I can't see from my right eye! Pain pain ₱₳ł₦! I see Vernon smiling before dropping a match and walking out of the shed as it burst into flames. I couldn't breathe!
As he felt his last of his life flipping away, he felt something snap in his mind before promising revenge giggling maniacally before his last breath head slumping down.
No one's POV
At that moment a few things happened four people felt a bond with a loved one break, multiple trinkets in a headmaster's office in a castle in Scotland broke apart,
ļ̸̜̮̹̦̯̠̔̓̃̾͂u̴̫̺͖̠̪̰͑̾̽͊ͭ̐ͧ͠_ͥc̶̨̨̢̨̟͙̳̻͍͍̫̪̹̪̪̽͊ͦ̐ͫ̑̅̒ͬ͂̓̉̉́̏ͯͯͨ̀̚͜͢͠kį̸̴̸̫͚̭̝̞̖̻̯̥͓̟̳̙̺̱̰̾̍͋̀̅͆ͣ̽ͤͣͭ͊̿̄̍͊ͫ̆̒͐̚̚͘͝͠l̜ͭͥ_̨̩̥͒ͯ̎ͪ͡_̴̢̡̢̛̦̲͓͓͍͇͓̝͍̬̿̀ͬͤ̒̀̌ͣͬ͋̏̈́ͨ̇́͜͠͝y̢̺͍̭̟̜͐̈́̇͂͗͂̍͜ ť͉ḫ̢͙̮̻̲̟̱̦̙̙̪̀͒̓̌̆́ͧ̐̓̎͡_͓̟͕ḙ͖̓ h̸̢̧̡̡̛̥̠̪̖̗̲̲̼͓͔͔̮̻̗̲̎ͮ́̀͛ͬ̽̽̽ͬ̀ͪ͂̌͑̀̏̓̄̔́ͧͮͤ͘͟e̢̩̬̥͎̪ͯ̒̓͑̏̋́͛̉̚͘ͅa̧̨̨̨̹̭̠̘̘̳̺̣̗͍̲͙͉͍͉̫͐̽ͥͨ͌ͧ̽͂ͧ͛ͬ̑͠͝͝d̴̡͎̠̻̭͕̲̳̓ͥ͆ͧ̿͗͆̽ͧ͘͜͟͡m̵̴̵̷̶̸̨̳͈̖̱̗͖̲̥͈̩̠̪̂̽̈́͋̏̈ͬ͂͒̃̄̈́̍ͫ͛ͫͭ̐͗̃̃ͤ͊͊̇͘͢ͅa̸̧̡̛͈͈̮͇̻͎̪͈̗̗̲̳̬̮͉ͣ̃̅̔̓̔̋͒̈ͯ̍ͫͫͥ̓̉́ͧ̇̕͢͠ͅ_̰̀s̸̵̴̩͒͊͋ͯt̵̵̨̲̘͎͈̩̩͚̳̤̥̣̰̝̓̎̎͋ͦͪ̀̏̅̋͌̎̑͂ͪͨ̑̂͆ͤ͊̈ͭ̚͘͢͜͞͠ė̶̢̧̡͇̘͈̗͍͔͕̦͇̋ͩ̌͘͢͠͝͡͡r͍̯̍ͨ̋̋̇̃ w̸̶͛̊ī̸̡̡̧̮̰̼̫̦͍̤̠̗̇͌̌̔͊ͧͭ̀̇̀̀͋ͪ̒ͤ̚͝l̸̡̢̢̛̤͎̫̻̜̫̬̠͚͎̟̮͕͙͙͔̝̙͔̃ͪ͐ͮ̅̓̽̽ͥ͐̎͑̈́͢͞͡l̨̬̟̦̅̑ͪ̽̆ͨ̚͞ ṋ̷͓̼̻̈͒͊͗̄̒̄̈́ͭ͒ͬͦ̑ͪ̕͢ͅĕ̳̫̯̲͇̘̿͐̒͜͡v̷̵̸̢̛͕͖̩̬͈͖̫͈̭̤̺͚͓̘̎ͩ̍̅̈́ͩ͛ͩ̈͊̆̋̂́ͭ̔̓̆̌̀ͩ͒͟͝͠e̷̵̵̵̢̧̛̦̲͔̲̳̠̜̠̬͎̫̙͎̪̰̭ͮ̽̇ͤ͊̆̉͢ͅr̵̴̵̲͙̫̥͈̟̋̌͊̀̏̀ͩ̄̚͘͘̚͜͡͠_̗͍̣̒͌̄̚͝͡ͅ_̴̳͓͑́̊́ͣ͟ͅ k̜̘̥ͬͮ́͜_̷̵̸̨̖̳͍̺͖̾ͤͣ̓̅̑͌͂ͤ̍̊̃͐ͦ͐̍͘͜͟n̗ͥ͒͐ͥ̚͠_̸̡͎̒̔̏͑ͯ͆ͯ͢͠ơ̷̙̼͓̹͐̂́́̑̚͝w̳̮̖͚̆͗̈́͋ͪ̃͟ o͋̓ͥͥ͢͞f̯̟̺̹̲͊ͥ̓͌ͣ̕͜ T̛̠͚̪͈̬̿͐̂̑̅ḩ̵̢̨̘̼̳̹̞̯̠̹͚͈̪͈͚̻͙̋̑ͪ̍̐ͥ̓ͮͯ͑ͩ̄͑͐͂͐ͦ͗ͯͧ̚̚̚̚͝ͅȇ̛̤̙͔̭͇̰̥̪̣̘̲͓̰͙̔͒̇̏ͤ͒͗̑̎͐̒̆̌͟͠ m̴̷̝͙̬͍͉̞̪̪͎̙̩̥̙͕͚̈́͌̇̐ͭ͑́̉̏͛͒̔̽̅͐̋ͧ̉̿̀́̋̌͜ī̵̩͚̺̼̟̪̝͊̍̊̀ͧͣ̓s̷͎̎ͯ̉ͩͫͪ͘̚̚͢f̨̹ͪ̑̀ò͔̈́͂_̷̼̫̣̫̹͉̠̜̞ͥ̀ͪ̌͛ͨ͆̔͑ͩ̌͆̉̍͊̓ͣ͘͘͜͠͡͝ṛ̷̵̣̳ͪ̽̀͗́̀͠͠͠t̸͎ͬͤͥͬ̾͢_̷̶͙̺͎̪̟̘͎̳̮͎̪͛ͪ͒ͪͥ͌ͧ̊ͧ̉͂̀ͭͭ͗̀͐̐̀̂̓͝͡ͅu̴̶̵̷̶̢̞̱̳̰̝̯͔̜͓̞̭͓̽̅ͨ̃̽̂̏̊̅̋͂̃ͧͪͦ̄̽͢͟͡ņ̶̦̭̤̦͊̑ͧͣ͐ͣͮ͌͢͡ë̵̢̫́́͜͠ t̩̮̊h̛͙̍́ͅa̸̸̡͖̮̫̦͍̝̞̹͍̦͕ͮ̏ͯ̓̀͌̆́̒̔̐͒́̀̎̕͢͠ţ̧̛̣̰̞͙̝̩͎̯͙͚ͩ̋ͮ͐ͭ̇̂̏̒ͩ̅̏̏̍̂̎͡͝_̸̧̰̟̤̺̘̿ͫ̊ w̢͇͎͖͔͕̪͕͈ͭ͒ͥ͑̿͑͘̚͢_̸̩͔̯̰̯̮̘͙̓̋͒̽̇́̿ͧ͜͜͟͝i̻̮̎ͯ̈́͒ļ̧͇̞͈̮͉͉̭̪̳ͯ̍̒ͅ_̴̟̺̤̮̠̳̏̊ͭ̀̑̑͝ļ̷̢̳̳̦̗̹̺͓̰̫͖ͮ̉͒ͮͦ͂ͪ̔̔̋́́̌̌̚͜ͅͅ b̩͐ͣͮe̸̡̛͕̙̪͎̙̰̫̪͕̮͎͉ͪ̑̅ͭ̊͂͐͑̂ͨͦ̋ f̶̨̼̱͎̝̦͍̩̘͓̝̖͎̮͎̙͖̮͍͑ͭ́̉̈ͪͮ̀ͣ͋̐́ͬͩ̋ͪ́̏̓͒̚͡͠a̵̷̸̴̛̘̳̗̰͓͓̥͇̹̲̥̫̹̝͔̳̻ͦ̍ͭ̍͐̀ͤ̀ͥ̋͗̍̀̆̾̑̓ͬ͘͢͜͢l̞l̼̟̰̦̯̼̙͉̾̈̒̊͊̅̈́̉̃̾̍̒ͤ͆͞͠ u̵̷̴̷̵̡̢̗̳̲̯̤̙͗͂́͌̀̏̑ͦ̐́ͯ̓̓ͭ̀͟͜͢͞͝͝_͚̟̮̙͆̃p̱̲̻̪̖̭̆̆́̒́̎̃͠͞͝ͅ_̴̸͚̦̃ͨͪ_̴_̰͓̮͙͓͎͉͑ͬ͋̽̃͋̍ͤ̀́͘͡o̷͕͈͖̖ͬ̾̌ͨ̓ͫ̋̍͋̔̑ͤͨ̚̕̚n̴̨͇̲̱͔̗̜̠̪̜̠̭͓̓̎̆ͯ̑̓̄ͩ̃̀́ͭ̐́̾ͪͪͩ͂͜ͅ h̢̠_̸̻̫̪̥̳̱̗͎̹̫͙̰͙̱͍ͩ̉̑̈́ͬ̑̆̿ͫ̀͑͗͛͢͡_̪͈̻̘̈͝i̢̧̛̺̥̯͚̯̺͇͖̹̲̓̎̆ͭ̿ͧͩͩͦ̌̅̐́̀ͬ̆ͦͫ͋ͧ̕͜͟͡͡m̷̸̹̫͍͋͌̀̐͢,
and three entities felt a bond being formed.
ꂵꑀꁲꃔꅐꁝ꒐꒒ꑀ ꒐ꃔ ꈜꌈꌅꌅꑀꐔ
Ǎ̷̵̧̹̠̼̞͚̙̥̝͕̻̺ͬ̈̈́͌͆̐ͥ̑̎ͤ̒͞ ṕ̶̴̸̨̞̜̦̤̺͚͖̩̗͔͈̈́̃ͪͣͣͫ̇̔́̋͗ͨ̿̕̚͘͢a̶̵̧̝͙̩̞͈͇͕͗ͬ̍̈̍̄̽ͬ͗̇̒̿͐͘͡͞į̨̛̤͉̲̰̳͐͌ͣ̕͝_̧̛̣̠̤̬͙͓͚̰̍͗̀̉ͩͧͥ̀̄͠r͈͖̬̻̹̳͖̭͉̫̖̭̤̻ͥ̌̋̓͋ͩͭ̀ͫ̃̒̈͟͟͢͠͠ ớ͍̗̯̝̺͉̦̱̭̬͉͇͕̙̙̑̀͒́ͧ͒̽̄̿͟͟͞͞f̴̳̭̰̍ͧ͛͘ eͣý̨̨̟̭̜̲̬͕͉̏̐̀̐̃ͩ̕͝_̇̓e̦͇̤̓ͫ̽ͤ̚ͅl̦į̷̧̮̳̥͎̭̘͚̼͊̽ͭ̄ͮ̓ͧͤͮͬ̊̚d̡̙̮̠̳̣̻̩͍̥̥̱͓̑ͣ́͛̏̃_̷͕̮̳̲͖̏ͫ̿̈ͭ́͢s̶̵̢̙̲̘̪̼̖̱̼̯̪͕̱̪̩̪̮̍͂ͮ͛͋͋ͩͪ̔̀͗ͩͦ̋ͤͭͫ͘͘̕͟͢͞͡͝͡ f̸̯͉̺̗̺̱͚͖̾̒̉ͫ͒͑͢͠l͔̿u̧͉̺͎̖̣̫͇̫͆̌̽ͩ͆̐ͪ̏̉͌̃̄̊̍́̑ͣ̿̃̚͜͠ţ̬͑̑̓ẗ́ę̸̡͕̩͔̜̗̙̳̟̙̺̺̮͈͇̺̭͙̙̋͒ͨ̀ͫ̀ͩͭ̎̋̽͆̂̓͆̈́͒̚͟͝͝͡͝͝͞r̛͙̼̰̣͚̱̲̭̣̺͉͕͔̥̀́̅̑͌͋̾̄ͫ͊̅ͪ̓͋̿ͥ̔ͩͬ͜͡͞e̵̷̷̛̻̻̮͙͎̺̖͇ͮ̆ͣ͛̉͑͠_̹̭̳̳̯̅̋̓d_̶̧͈͕͖͚̦̳̲͔̰̙͆ͤͯͩ̅͐́̄̽̕͜͠ o̷̹ͭ_̸̲̻̦̳̮͋̈́͂̐͘p̸̨̪̳̭̔ͩ̽ͭ͘e̴͕̼̠̗̘̦̘͖̳͊ͭ̄͂̈́̊͑̍̋̃̈̚͢͠͡͞͡͡͝n_̢͇͈̻͎̳ͮ̈͗̋̆͗ͧ͟_̸̶̧̨̻̝̻̤͖̼̯͇̩̖ͣ̀ͣ̀̓̾̏̎ͭ͊ͪ̀̚͟͝͠ r̵̯̤̦̰͗ͧͥ̓͢ͅe̺̬̬ͩ͘v̮̬͇ͩ͟͟͝͠e̷̢̧͚̖͙͔͎̯̞̲̠̿̀̇́̓͗ͭ̓̽̔͗ͪͨ̌̿̒ͨ̐ͯ͗ͥ͘̚ͅ_̴͇̗̚a̶̯̰̯̫̗̲̤̥͙̮͕̹̘͚̽ͬ́ͤ̊̀ͦ́̊̊̈ͧ̎́͛̿ͤ̅ͯ͟͜͡͝͠l̶̢ͣͨͣ̄͐͜͞_̧̥͎̯̭̉͛͆̐̓̀̈̈́̒̇͟͟i̶̷̶̸̡̥̣̗͕̖̟̦̭̗̮͔ͥͮͧ̽͊̒̒ͨ̎̀͂ͬ̓̆ͪ͆ͬ̒̾͘̚͟͜͡ǹ̷̵̸̷̶̛͚͇͖̜̻̫̺̹̦͚͖͔̥̦̦̤͑̄̉̌̆̐ͨ̏ͦ̔̆͑̎ͭ͒̃̍͘͘͢͠ͅg̶̡̘̗̩ͬ̑͌ à̱͖̰͔̝̬͇͆̓̿ͮͩ͢͠͡ g̶̢̥͑̔ͫͨͩͩ͜l̴̷̹͇̹͋̓̉_̷̹̰͈̭̥̲͓͈̖͕̪̭͉͋͛ͥͪͣ̂͂ͭ͢͞͠͝ͅö̬͖͕͉̞̗̥̭̯̰̰̬̙̹̾̂̏͑ͤ̋̍ͮ̑ͨ͒ͦ̀ͭͭ͆̐́͢w̷̪̃͒͒i̢̢̪̱̟̪̱̦̻͔̱̥̺̐ͮ̐͆̅̏̐ͧ́̽̈́ͤ͟͢͝͝_ͣͤn̨̹̦͕͉̙̝͓̞͉̲̯ͮ̇̅ͣ̉ͥ͒̆̚̚͟ģ̴̷̤̺͍̥͓͂͊̃͋͗́͋̄̿͛̓̃͟ g̛̲̔̂͒̔̽ͥͯͩ́͟͞ŗ̶͇̬͎̹̖̟̦̼͎͓̦̫̍̑ͮ̿̔̋͊͆̈́͂̅̈́̉͛͐̏̆ͦ͋̈ͫ̚͟͡e͉̗͇̭̱̯͖ͭ͛̈́̋̾͘͡͠ẹ̪̘̾̐ͣ̂̚̚n̥̺͙̪̈́͠ e̛̥̰͓̜̞̭̠͐ͤͨͫ̏̚͜͢_̷̲̰̮̙̥͕̺̠̤͍͕̳̐͐͊͗͌͐ͬ̄͛̚y͕͈̞̆ͪe̵̱̓ͧ͜_̴̸̶̷̧̨̝̳̯̳̳̩̫͙͛ͤ̽̓̈̊́̇̇̊̀̅̉ͨ͡͞_̟̼̖ͫ a̵̡̼̝͖̣̫ͦ̽̔̽̌̾̅͌̑̌̏̿͒̕͜͞͞s̨̅_̢͔͕̓̿̂ͣͪ͂͋̾ ṱ̶̶̛̩̯̙̙̬̖̰̞̗͎̰ͧ͌̊͐ͫ͒́ͪͬ̑ͥ̋̀́͘͟͝͠h̛̄ͨͭ̋ͮ͜ḙ̷̩͚͇͓̰ͥ̌͑ͭ͆͂̚͠͡ g̢̣̬͍͇͙̟̰̹̮̬̭̝̲̯̞͇͉̒̽̉̓ͦ̓̓ͥ͂̿̆͑̉̋ͩͫ́̅̽̀ͤͣ̉̒̕͟͞r̵̨̜̺̜͕̳̠̫̲̟̈̂ͧ̽ͭ͊̍̍̅ͥ͐̃ͧͮͪͨ̏̽͊í̢̢̛̫̟̩̠ͦ̑̊̌ͦ̋̅ͪͨ̒ͦ̽̓̆͛̕͡ͅnͫ̀ͅṉ̴̛̹̗̜̩͍̏͂e̙̠̜̖̬̜͉̳̭͇̣ͧ̌͋̿͘͝͝d͡ f̶̛͓̟̝͒́ͭͬͪͣē̴̢̧̡̢̜̺͇̹͉̺̥̺̪̲̬̗̙͕̥͍͔̆ͦ̊ͥ̈́̆ͤ͐̈̎̎̈́̂́̚̚͠r̸̫̹͍̰̱̣̱̜͈̲̼̤̮̗̫̉͒͆̒̃͂͐ͯͭ̊͒͗̾̆ͩ͟a̴̸̢̛̟͈͕̮͔̮͓̖͔̼̳̻̰̝̦̤͉̒̈̌̐ͭ͑ͫ̿͛̐͒͛͂͑̈̓ͭ̇ͪ̋l̗̲͚̆̔͗̔l̶̸̴̨̧̹̪̥̹̖̳̮̩̮̼͚̣̈ͥͬ̊͐ͩ͑̈́̀̿̈́̎ͣ̒͢͢͝_̟y̡͖̮̜̜̪̗̬̗̦̣͖̓ͪ͐ͥ́͑͒̉ͮ̍̈̍ͮ͞