The Dursleys
It was easy finding the Dursleys as Deathstroke only had to follow the loud snoring coming from two bedrooms upstairs, the inhabitants unaware of the intruder in their home.
He would normally kill them in their sleep, as the buyer didn't specify as long as it couldn't be traced back to him, and it was quick and easy: no hassle, no noise, no victims trying to run away.
However, this time was different. He felt the need to find out more about how they treated Harry, and why he was even here in the first place. He didn't know if it was because he was a father himself, though Slade would mentally kick himself if he got soppy just because of a child, his own were the only exceptions and it's not like he was nice towards them really, Joey being a prime example.
But something within young Harry made him act differently, maybe it was the evident neglect, which was likely to be worse than what he had learned so far, or a strong feeling that the child had a huge potential for greatness, like a strong power. It was probably the latter, Slade thought, as he wasn't the most compassionate person, and his metahuman senses didn't fail him before, so he was sure that the boy wasn't quite as ordinary as the peaceful suburban street would suggest.
At least he certainly wouldn't feel guilty after this lot kicked the bucket. Not that this was ever a problem for him anyway. Actually, this lack of empathy was most likely very much a severe problem for Slade, but he decided that he had better things to worry about than his mental health at the moment.
So instead of getting the job over and done with in record time so he could get home to his children pronto before they woke up, Deathstroke wasted his time by dragging each sleeping Dursley (with short-term tranquilizers just in case) into the living room and tying them up securely on their kitchen chairs.
The walrus of a man with no neck and a thick mustache must have been Vernon, and the bony, horse-faced woman his wife Petunia.
Slade woke them up first, injecting the couple with something to negate the effects of the tranquilizers, and waiting for them to stir.
Almost immediately, Vernon's eyes fluttered open and focused on the figure before him.
'What is this? Who are you? Get out of my house this instant, you freak or there will be consequences!'
Slightly bemused, Deathstroke calmly observed the man's rant, who was starting to froth at the mouth, his face turning pink, then red and an interesting shade of deep burgundy in quick succession.
During this tirade, Petunia awoke, her face turning paper white, then sickly green after she saw the figure standing before her, Slade noted, and figured that his costume, with a half-black, half-orange mask, and sword sheaths and gun holsters attached to his armor-like outfit, was doing a good job intimidating her.
At least this one was quiet.
'Shut up.' he told Vernon, rapidly producing a shotgun that he pointed straight at the man, 'Unless you want one of these in your brain.'
He might have neglected to mention that he would be doing so anyway, but it did the trick as the man before him visbly paled, stopping mid-rant.
Slade could see both of them moving slightly and uncomfortably, most likely realizing their current predicament, and the fact that it meant they were in no position to give orders.
'Good.' He continued. He let his arm fall to his side, but continued to clamp the gun tightly in his hand, ready to use it in a split-second.
'You wanna know why I'm here huh? Well I can tell you, but I can't say you'll like the answer.', inclining his head towards Petunia he went on, 'Why don't you ask Vernon here? I'm sure he could tell you exactly why, am I right?'
Deathstroke smirked, seeing realisation flash in Vernon's eyes like a lightbulb going off in his head.
'Go on.' he commanded.
'Darling, d-do you h-have any idea what this crazed freak is t-talking about?', Petunia's voice was little more than a frightened, hushed whisper, casting nervous, sidelong glances at Slade every so often while facing her husband, waiting for an answer.
'O-of course not Pet, like you said he - he's clearly out of his mind, making these impossible assumptions, you know I wouldn't associate with anyone of 'that sort' , I've never seen him before in my life.' Vernon babbled anxiously, clearly attempting to play dumb.
Deathstroke could work with that.
'Well then, if you won't even dignify your wife with a truthful response to why she will die, I suppose I will have to. Your 'dear' husband, has stolen company funds for two years now. All these wonderful promotions and pay-rises? Stolen money. All of it. And now you'll all pay for his mistakes, since his boss wants the three of you gone.'
He directed his words to Petunia, seeing any colour left in her face drain at the word 'die' her eyes widen, and mouth open, gaping like a fish in disbelief.
'V-vernon? Vernon?! That can't possibly be true, he's lying, isn't he? Answer me!', Petunia's voice was high and shrill, her tone gradually more hysterical as her husband averted his eyes.
'W-well you s-see Pet, it wasn't that much r-really, just a few dollars they wouldn't miss, honestly it's not like that good for nothing CEO needs all that money anyway, and I did it all for you and Dudley! The car, the bigger house. You can't blame me for it, can you?'
The man was really pitiful, muttering while staring at the floor, then pathetically trying to defend himself. He hadn't lasted 20 seconds, even Harley Quinn was a better actress than that.
At the mention of Dudley, Petunia had finally looked around the room to see her son trussed up on the couch like a thanksgiving turkey.
The boy looked like a turkey too, being morbidly obese, and weighing as much as a teenager. Slade, with his enhanced strength, had been shocked by his weight so much that he had almost dropped the sleeping boy when heaving him downstairs, if only because he hadn't expected him to be so huge for a seven year old.
Slade briefly thought of the boy's cousin Harry, the polar opposite, weighing scarily little when he lifted him onto the cupboard bed properly. His thoughts then drifted to Rose, and how different she looked to both boys despite being around the same age. It seemed as though Dursley, apart from embezzling, had treated the two boys abysmally, both being incredibly unhealthy, especially when his daughter next to them seemed like a great example of a healthy child eating properly. At least he was doing something right.
Like everyone knew, Slade definitely wasn't dad #1, so this was probably why he felt almost sorry for Dudley. He was even worse off than his own children, at least in this aspect, not to mention that he was going to die because of his stupid, halfwit father, which wasn't really fair. Almost. A contract was a contract.
'Duddykins!', screamed Petunia, 'What are you going to do with him! Don't you dare touch my precious angel!'
Deathstroke decided to try get some answers out of her.
'Is he the only child living with you? I think I saw another bedroom upstairs.'
'Yes, h-he's our only son, don't hurt him. Please'. She added as an afterthought.
'I can't go back on a contract, lady.', Slade replied before getting straight to the point, 'What about your nephew under the stairs?'
Vernon seemed to have gotten over the shock and regained his voice.
'THAT BOY!', roared Vernon, 'I KNEW WE SHOULD'VE LOCKED HIM IN THERE, HE COULD WAIT TO GO TO THE TOILET IN THE MORNING IF HE NEEDS IT! LOOK WHAT HE'S DONE NOW, GIVEN US UP TO THIS-THIS... I KNEW WE SHOULDN'T HAVE TAKEN HIM IN, FED AND CLOTHED HIM OUT OF THE KINDNESS OF OUR HEARTS AFTER YOUR FREAK OF A SISTER GOT HERSELF BLOWN UP! LOOK HOW HE'S REPAYED US!
'Harry is malnourished and his clothes are much too big for him. And i highly doubt either if you have ever been kind to him, so cut the crap.' Deathstroke deadpanned, cutting Vernon off, 'Now you said Petunia's sister was 'blown up'? Explain that, and how you treated Harry, and I might save Dudley here from a painful death, how's that? It'll be in his sleep, he won't feel a thing.'
While Vernon stuttered, Petunia hesitated before going into a full blown tirade, 'Well of course she got herself blown up with how freakish she was, went off to a wizard school and came home waving a wand and potions about. Then she got married to that Potter, some rich, self-centered git from that school and had the boy, and I knew he would be just as freakish as them.Then they got themselves killed by some kind of 'dark wizard' and the boy got dumped with us, just left on the doorstep with a note, A NOTE, that we had to take him in, and he's been nothing but trouble, with his freakish bursts of magic... And he doesn't deserve a thing, he's been lucky enough to get Dudley's old clothes and food for doing the house chores, we shouldn't have to be saddled with him, just because of my good for nothing sister. Anyway, it isn't like we are doing anything wrong to him, just trying to get his freakishness to stop.'
It took Slade a few seconds to process what she said, as Petunia was talking so quickly, but he was soon furious. Magic aside, treating a CHILD, a very young one to boot, this badly just because of his parentage was cruel even by his standards. The wizard part didn't shock him that much, he's seen every strange person from the homo magi Zatanna to Waylon Jones, better known as Killer Croc, a human who had slowly mutated into looking more and more like a crocodile. It was quite plausible then, that Harry could perform magic, and it was sickening that these people would treat him absmally over something he couldn't control, though it wasn't unheard of that some parents or guardians of metahumans would do similar things.
'Why wouldn't you just give him up for adoption then, if you hate him so much?', he asked. After all, Harry couldn't do much worse than living here.
'It's all in the letter that came with him.', Petunia sniffed disdainfully, 'It's in the cupboard there, you can take it if you want. A-are you telling the truth about Dudley?'
'Now wait here, Petunia, I'm sure he won't really kill us, he'd go to prison, and there are security cameras in the neighborhood-'
Vernon fell silent mid-sentence as Deathstroke swiftly pulled out a sword and slit his throat. Petunia gave a stifled little shriek.
True to his word, he then shot the sleeping Dudley, who remained unaware of anything that was happening. The tranquilizer had a numbing effect so the boy simply slipped away in his sleep, calmly.
After bringing his sword down on the screaming Petunia, Slade put his weapons back, and stopped for a second before going upstairs and returning with a large bag filled with Harry's documents, the letter Petunia told him about, food from the kitchen, blankets and an assortment of Dudley's best toys that would fit in the bag since he wouldn't be needing them anymore. He also looked through the house and took any money and valuables he could find (he would count that as being for the additional trouble), then opened the cupboard, picked up the still unconscious Harry, an old, scruffy coat and beat-up pair of trainers that would have to do for the boy under the circumstances, then left to catch his flight, leaving the damaged door swaying in the breeze and the Dursleys in the living room for the poor mailman to find them a few hours later, as the damaged security cameras on the streetlamps sparked erratically.