The Most Offensive Story Ever

On number four, Privet drive, in a cupboard under the stairs, a young boy sat, brooding over his most secret possession.

"My beautiful darling," crooned Harry Potter insidiously, "at last we are alone, free to do whatever we want together!"

He stared into the cold dead eyes of Ronald Reagan's corpse. Yes, the Ronald Reagan. The smell of rotting flesh filled the closet, and would almost certainly have overpowered any individual in their right mind. Fortunately, Harry Potter was most certainly insane, and as such found the smell entirely pleasant. Harry hunched over, placing his face in extreme proximity to Mr. Reagan. He snarled, an animalistic growl rolling forth from the madman's vocal cords. Lunging forward, he sprung open his mandibles and took a giant bite out of the body's face. He swallowed the rancid flesh.

Following this vile deed, he pulled down his pants, squatted, and crapped into his cupped palms. He then filled up the eaten part of his face with his own feces, taking little care to cover all the spots. He then smeared some over the rest of Mr. Reagan's body for good measure. Laughing, Harry began to lick his fingers clean of the steaming excrement. Boredom began to set in. Madmen have notoriously short attention spans.

Harry stepped out of the closet, abandoning Mr. Reagan to his fate.

'I wonder,' thought Harry to himself, 'what will happen to Ronnie now that I left him? Who will smear feces upon his gaunt, rigor mortis stricken face if not me?'

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of lumbering heavy footsteps. Dudley was on the way. A grin lit up Harry's face at the thought of his maggot infested, disease-ridden cousin. Harry walked up to the open sored, parasite infested obese person.

"Dudley, my favorite cousin!" Harry exclaimed with a look of elation on his face. "Allow me to clean you!" Dudley looked ahead dumbly as Harry stuck his mouth over one of Dudley's sores, sucking upon the open wound until all the pus and blood had flowed into his maw, swallowing the substance with aplomb. He then flicked his tongue over the newly dried sores, slurping up the maggots like so many tiny bits of licorice. Dudley allowed Harry to do this until all of the sores and maggots were dried and gone. Harry rubbed his belly. "A tasty meal, to be sure!" said the extremely satisfied wizard in training. A dumb grin lit up the cruel, fat, behemoth's features as he drove his ham sized fist into Harry's stomach, causing the smaller boy to spew out the content's of the day's meals, namely pus, maggots, and Ronald Reagan, not to mention a bit of feces. Harry groaned, doubling over. An evil grin lit up Dudley's face as he shoved his gaping maw upon the vomit, eating all he could scrape up off the floor, savoring it before swallowing.

Belching, Dudley walked away, leaving Harry to his own devices.

A very bored Harry idly fondled his gonorrhea-ridden member as he contemplated what to do next. His reverie was interrupted, however, by the intrusion of one Rubeus Hagrid into his humble abode.

"Arry!" bellowed the half-human half-giant mongrel, "yer late fer school! Ye've got to come wit me!"

Hary, realizing that there was no escape from the half-breed abomination, decided it would be safest to give in to the mongrel's wishes. Pausing only to go upstairs and get his trunk, he and Hagrid went across the street to Mrs. Figg's and flooed to Hogwarts.

To be continued....