I have read where Harry was powered up by lightning once before, but unlike that story, this will not be a love story. Also, it's a payback story with a stupidly overpowered Harry. No one will get away with stepping on him this time. It might border on crack as well. So, there is that.

A mini rant.

Someone reviewed my last story and suggested that I get a professional proofreader. I thought to myself, 'for a free website? Not bloody likely.' I do proofread my stuff. Three times, then I have a program that reads it to me. However, I am dyslexic, so I miss things.

This is a free site. I am an amateur writer, so I hope that you will forgive the few mistakes that escape my notice. I am much, much better than I was when I started. If I ever publish professionally, which isn't likely, I will then hire someone to go over my shit.

I know there are beta readers that will do it for free. I have used them in the past. One of my character flaws is I am impatient. I have no life, they do. I want to post now; they need days to go over my stuff. See, how that doesn't work?

So I will continue to try and get better, and hopefully you will support my efforts.

Mini rant over.

Enjoy.

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Harry Potter was sitting in the park one afternoon in July. His birthday was coming up soon, and he was looking forward to it. He would be thirteen, and he would be starting his third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had had a few rough years his first two years, and he was hoping for a nice easy year this year.

Vernon's sister was due to visit soon, and he was not looking forward to that. She was as big of a bitch as the dogs she raised. Her comments on him and his family were enough to make him want to kill her at times. If he were so inclined, which he wasn't.

Suddenly out of nowhere, from a cloudless sky, came a lightning bolt, which slammed into Harry's chest. His whole body arched off the ground where he had been laying. He felt like he was on fire. Like his entire nervous system was being rewired. When it was done, he laid there panting and just living in the moment, glad that he was alive.

He laid there for around a half an hour, just trying to understand that he had been hit by lightning and lived. He didn't feel any different, yet he did. He felt… more. More alive. Like he could do anything and do it well.

He looked down at his clothes and saw that they were fine. There was no sign that he had been struck. Though they did smell like ozone. He would have thought they would have had burn marks on them or had holes, but they even looked like they had been ironed, or at the very least just taken out of the dryer.

He put his hand to his head, worried that his hair had been affected. It had not. It was its normal messy self, though there did seem to be some static to it. Like mini lightning bolts were racing around it. He could feel them shock his hands like tiny bug bites.

All of this made him wonder if the lightning bolt had been magical in nature. He knew that a natural lightning bolt was electrical and would have fried everything it touched. His clothes and skin would not have survived, yet his had. Therefore, he could only conclude that it must have been magical, but how? and why? Those were the questions. Did someone curse him? or was it divine intervention? He didn't know.

He finally realized that it was time for him to go home and start dinner. He didn't want to. He wanted to stay and relish this feeling of being alive, but he didn't want to get punished for being late, so he reluctantly got up and trudged home.

As he walked, he noticed that everything was brighter, and that his vision was clearer. It was only after he was closer to his relative's house that he noticed that there was no glass in his glasses. They must have vaporized with the lightning. Or something magical happened? Well, he wasn't going to point it out to anyone.

Not only that but he could smell clearer too. The smell of nature came to his nose much crisper, though so did the smell of pollution. It was bitter and overshadowed the natural smell of the earth. He waved his hand and that bitter smell disappeared from around him. He breathed in the smell of nature and was clearer headed for it. It was a refreshing smell.

He made it to the house and went inside. He ignored the yelling from the living room and went to the kitchen and started something for dinner. He wasn't really paying attention to what he was cooking, just throwing ingredients together automatically. It would turn into something edible sooner or later.

Vernon came in and grabbed his arm and Harry turned around and threw his hand up to ward off a blow. Vernon went flying across the room, slammed into a wall and didn't get up again. Harry looked at his hand in amazement. He then looked out the window. He stayed that way, ignoring his aunt's shrieks. There was no owl. Five minutes later there still was no owl.

A wicked smirk came across his face. Now they would pay. He did a few things to the ingredients, like cut them up and such, and still no owls. He was getting a few ideas on payback for his family. Especially since Marge was coming today.

"Quit ignoring me, you freak. What did you do to your uncle?" Petunia screamed at him again, raising a frying pan as if to strike him with it.

He waved his hand at the frying pan, turning it rubber and hitting her in the face. She stood there gobsmacked as the frying pan slipped from her grip and fell to the floor. "What? You were going to hit me. I thought I'd return the favor. You really are a stupid person; you know that right?" Harry said, looking at her like she was a particularly ugly bug.

"How dare you," she seethed, picking up the frying pan to hit him with it. Only to be hit in the face again. The pan once again fell to the floor, this time bouncing a bit.

"Be glad I'm made it rubber, or you'd be knocked out too. I am a wizard. I can do magic. Didn't you think on that when you abused me all those years?" he asked in a casual tone.

"We didn't abuse you, you stupid boy. We were trying to make you normal. If you had just adjusted then we would have treated you like any other child, and not like a freak," she sneered, picking up the pan again, this time putting it on the counter.

"How did that work for you? You were my mother's sister. You knew it wouldn't work that way. If that's your definition of normal, I'd hate to see what you think freakish was," Harry said, already tired of the conversation. He knew that she wouldn't listen to him.

"You are my definition of freakish," she hissed, pointing a finger at him.

"Shouldn't you go and get Marge?" he asked, looking at the clock, seeing it was passed time for someone to go and get the cow posing as a woman. He'd get her back later. He had plans for her and that cow, and her little dog too.

"Oh dear," Petunia said, looking at her unconscious husband. She ran and grabbed her keys and headed out the door. "Dinner had better be done when I get back," she yelled on her way out.

Harry waved a hand and turned Vernon into a teacup, then went over and picked him up and put him in the cupboard. He would leave him there for now. He did wonder if the man could breathe like that but found he didn't care. He went back to making dinner, only this time with magic. He cut up the veggies with just a wave of the hand. Cooked the meat to perfection without the oven and made the gravy without the stove. Soon he had a roast beef with the fixings ready to serve.

Petunia returned with Marge and Dudley appeared at the same time. "Boy, come get Marge's suitcase."

Harry shrugged and went to get the case and moved it to the side of the hallway. He wasn't going to drag it up the stairs just yet. "Dinner's done," he informed his relatives.

"Where's Vernon?" Marge asked, looking around the room like he would appear. Her dog, Ripper, tried to run up to Harry and bite him, but one look at the boy's angry face had him running back to his mistress with his tail between his legs. Marge glared at him. "Leave my precious Ripper alone, you foul boy."

"He left to hospital," Harry said, boldfaced lying. Petunia glared at him. "I didn't touch your dog," he added, glaring at the cowering dog.

"Why?" the man's sister asked, glaring at the boy. She turned so the dog was hidden from the boy's eyes. She didn't know what the brat had done to her dog, but she'd get him back for it after she found out what happened to her brother.

"He fell," he said, which was mostly the truth. He had fallen to the floor after he hit the wall.

"Come, Marge, let's eat. I'm sure Vernon is fine," Petunia said, not trusting Harry one bit. "We can visit him at hospital when we're done," she said, guiding the fat woman to a chair. "Which hospital, boy?" she asked Harry.

"I didn't ask," the teen said, serving up some food to his plate, making sure to keep his serving small. He didn't want to start a fight just yet.

"I'll call around," the thin woman said, heaping some food on Dudley's plate.

They ate with Marge and Petunia talking about Vernon and how he was missing a fine meal. They were concerned that he had hurt himself enough to be in hospital and were both glaring at Harry like it was his fault. It was but only Petunia knew that. Dudley was simply eating like he always did, shoveling food in his mouth without even tasting it. Ripper was eating the food Marge dropped on the floor. Whether it was on purpose, or she was just a slob, Harry didn't know.

Harry watched as they all got relaxed. He waved his hand under the table and made them all fall asleep in their plates. He then turned Marge, her dratted dog, and Petunia into teacups and put them with Vernon. Dudley, he put to bed and wiped his memory of all things magic. As far as the boy was concerned Harry was just his unwanted cousin.

He then finished his dinner and magically cleaned the kitchen. He went to his room and started his homework. He took a few minutes to contemplate what he had done. Should he feel bad for technically killing his relatives? He didn't think so. He could turn them back anytime, but why should he? They are vile human beings. He would have to think on it. They were harmless and out of harm's way where they were.

The next morning Dudley woke Harry up by pounding on his door. "Harry, where are my parents?" he yelled through the wood.

"How would I know?" Harry answered back, getting out of bed. "Wasn't your aunt and mum going to find your dad this morning?" he added as an afterthought.

"They would have taken me, I think," the fat boy said, desperate now. "I would have wanted to see dad." He pounded on the door to get Harry moving.

"Hold on, I'll be there in a minute," Harry said, pulling on some clothes. He looked around the room and waved a hand. All his magical stuff looked like mundane stuff now. He opened the door and looked at his worried cousin. "Maybe we should call the cops," he ventured.

"Do you really think so?" Dudley asked, not sounding sure. "I mean, they might be at hospital, like you said," he added, not wanting the cops to come if it weren't important.

"We can wait until after lunch. They might have gone to hospital without you," Harry said, moving to pass his cousin and head down the stairs. "If they're not back by then, we'll call."

"Okay," Dudley said, following Harry to the kitchen.

Harry made a fry up and served it up. They ate in silence, then Dudley left to visit friends. He didn't seem too worried, yet. Harry cleaned up and went upstairs and let Hedwig out. He wrote a letter to his friend Hermione.

"Go see Hermione, girl. I don't know how long I'll be here. Come and find me later," he said, opening the window to let her out. Hermione would watch over her for a bit.

He then made sure there was no magical things laying about. And went to watch the tv for a while. It was something he never got to do before, and he was enjoying watching the cartoons that had been denied to him his entire childhood.

When lunchtime came around Dudley came back. "They're not back yet?" the larger boy asked, sitting on the couch, and shoving his hand in a bag of crisps he had brought back with him.

"Nope," Harry said, looking at the crumbs the boy was spreading all over the sofa.

"Do you think we should call it in?" Dudley asked, looking around the room like his mum would appear and make him lunch.

"I'll do it," Harry said, getting up and going to the hall phone. He rang up the non-emergency line. "Hello, my name is Harry Potter and I'd like to report some missing persons," he said into the phone. He waited and then said, "They are my aunt and uncle, and my uncle's sister." A few seconds more, "They were gone when we got up this morning." Wait. "I live here with them and my cousin. We're thirteen." Wait. "I live at #4 Privet dr. Little Whining, Surrey," he said to the reporting officer. Then a few seconds more he hung up the phone.

"What did they say?" Dudley asked from the living room where he was wringing his hands. It was getting late in the afternoon, and he was not used to his mum not being there.

"There sending someone around," Harry said, looking at his cousin and feeling a twinge of guilt, but he quashed it down. Remembering all the times his whale of a cousin had beat him up. He could do with a proper guardian. Someone who would teach him right from wrong. That was if he got the right kind. Harry only hoped that he did.

Harry was sure that he, himself, was going to disappear into the wizarding world. He'd have to hide from the muggles, or they'd put him in the system too. He knew there were bad people in the system and that his 'freakishness' would make him stand out. There was no way he was going through that again. Not from people he didn't know.

Twenty minutes later, the constables came. They knocked on the door and Dudley answered.

"I'm Officer Kent, this is Officer James. Are you Harry Potter?" the male one asked him.

"No, I'm Dudley Dursley, the son of the ones missing," he answered, showing them in.

"We got the report, what can you tell us?" Officer James, the female asked, opening a notebook.

Harry answered with, "My uncle said he was going to hospital after he fell last night. My aunt brought Marge, his sister, here, they ate and fell asleep. They were going to go and visit my uncle this morning. When we woke up, they were gone, and they haven't returned." He shrugged.

"Is that what you know?" she asked Dudley.

"I remember something about dad falling, and that Aunt Marge was here, but I fell asleep before they did," he said a look of deep concentration on his face.

"Do you know which hospital?" she asked Harry.

"They said they were going to call around. But the weird part is that their car is still here," he added, pointing to the car in the driveway.

Everyone turned and looked at the car. The two officers noted it down in their notebooks and looked at the kids. "We can't really report them missing until they've been gone for over forty-eight hours. However, we can't leave you kids home alone either. Do you have somewhere to go for a few days while we look into this?" Officer Kent asked with a look of hope on his face. "Family perhaps?"

"Aunt Marge was my only other family," Dudley pointed out, looking sad. Not that he would have wanted to spend time with Marge, but she was his only other relative.

"Aunt Petunia was mine, with Dudley being my only cousin. But I have someone I can go to for a few days," he added hopefully. He'd give them Figg's place and go elsewhere. They'd never know.

"I can stay with Piers for a few days," Dudley stated, knowingly. "I'll ring his mum," he added, getting up to do that.

"That will work for a few days, but we need to find out if you have family," the female officer said, flipping her notebook closed and standing to take a look around.

The male officer said, "Give me the names of your friends and the address and phone numbers."

Dudley complied and went to ring Pier's house and pack for a few days. Harry gave Mrs. Figg's number and address and went to grab his trunk, disguised to look like a suitcase. He went into the kitchen and packed the four teacups.

"Why are you packing those?" Officer James asked, looking at the boy strangely.

"They're my aunt's favorites," he said, putting them in his clothes, making her believe he was protecting them. He didn't want to leave them behind for anyone to find. If the magicals found out his relatives were missing, they might investigate. They might be found and then he'd have some explaining to do. He was going to hide them somewhere.

"Oh, what a sweet kid," she said, letting him go. She started looking through the trash to see if there was any evidence.

He made his way to the door and waved to the male officer. "I can make my own way," he told the officer as he put his hand on the knob.

"Are you sure? We can give you a ride," the man said, looking at the address, which was nearby.

"I'm sure, it's within walking distance," Harry said, giving the man a winning smile. "I hope you find my aunt and uncle," he added with a hopeful look on his face.

"We will," the male officer said a bit boastfully.

With that Harry left.