Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

This was originally going to be a one-shot, but I think I like it better as a two shot. The next chapter should be posted within a week. Enjoy.

Beat Treatment

When Harry was younger his uncle smoked.

A lot.

He would have about four to five packs on a light week. Harry's aunt always complained that the smoke was bad for her little Dudley-kin's lungs, but she never tried to get her husband to quit.

The June before Harry's sixth birthday his uncle got promoted.

Needless to say this greatly pleased his adaptive family, they celebrated for about two days. A week after that Vernon got his first big assignment. He was to be sent over seas to America for a week to buy a smaller drill company. Vernon and Petunia where trilled.

They bragged and boasted up and down till their neighbors where sick(er) of them.

Now, when Vernon left for America he only brought a half a pack with knowing he'd be able to buy more in America. Though he was very put out that he couldn't smoke on the plane and very offended when an American told him to shut up when he started to grumble about not being able to smoke.

While Vernon was away, Petunia cleaned the whole house, with a lot of 'help' from Harry of course. She wanted every thing to be squeaky clean for when her husband returned. The day before Vernon was due back Petunia went out and bought two of Vernon's favorite packs.

The next day Petunia went to the airport to pick up her triumphant husband. All the way home he talked up and down about how he had every one eating out of his hand and how he got such a great deal and how every one loved him. Petunia, for some odd reason, believed every word he said. After all, every one loves a stupid, little minded whale of a man, right?

When they got home Petunia surprised Vernon with he 'gifts' she had gotten him. Vernon, upon seeing said 'gifts', shrieked like a frightened little girl. He tore the packs out of his wife's hands and ran into the living room.

There he threw them into the fireplace (which hadn't been used in years and was only for decoration) and lit them aflame. He laughed like a mad man for weeks and went though two years of therapy; though the therapy didn't help much because all Vernon did was laugh, cry and scream. Finally the therapist couldn't take it any more and fired him.

To this day Vernon has never smoked.

No one knows (except maybe for the green ducks he talks to every Saturday at 2:22am) what happened to Vernon in America to make him act like that.

Until now that is.