New Rules

                                    

                                          
Three shaking Dursleys were sitting in front of a pacing Harry. It  truly was their fault. They should have treated Harry better from the  beginning. Shouldn't have neglected him, left him in that disgusting  cupboard, starved him, hurt him, lied to him, made him work for them  worse than a house elf. And lastly, they should have been more  cooperative when Harry had demanded to speak to them after Vernon hadn't  been able to hit him. It had been their fault Harry had cast wandless  silent Cruciatus curses on the older two Dursleys and had made a pig's  tail grow out of dear 'Dudders' backside. Somehow, he had to get the  message across. And the Dursleys were incredibly dense at comprehending  the message. Who was to blame? The Dursleys weren't in charge anymore.  The tides had turned. And they had to learn that, despite their pity  little brains. 
                          
Voldemort felt utterly delighted and still  slightly lightheaded and giddy from the Dark magic his protégé had cast  on the disgusting muggles. Harry shared the feelings. Voldemort still  tried to wrap his head around how much Harry had enjoyed casting the  Cruciatus curse. From his own experience he was well aware of the rush  the curse caused. He just hadn't expected Harry to share his enthusiasm  for the curse. It warmed the Dark Lord's heart. Especially since the  Dursleys had been removed to a quivering mess. Not that Voldemort cared  overly much for the muggles. They deserved everything Voldemort and  Harry had planned for them.
                          
Finally, a shaking Petunia mustered up the courage to speak: "What have you done to us?"
                          
Harry grinned ferally while Voldemort cackled gleefully remembering the actions of last night.
                          
Harry  had finished the run stones a few days ago and charmed them to be  reusable. Neither Harry nor Voldemort had desired to engrave three sets.  It had been tedious work. Especially without the help of a wand. But as  always Harry had managed. The stones had been soaked in Harry's blood  the night before. Everything had been prepared. The Dursleys wouldn't  know what hit them. The only thing left had been the ritual itself. It  would prevent the Dursleys from ever hurting Harry again. If they dared  to try, they would be punished in turn. Most violently. The more often  they'd try, the more violent the punishment would become. Additionally,  it would stop them from revealing anything, neither spoken, written or  any other way. Again, if they'd try, they'd be punished. Voldemort and  Harry had decided to perform the rituals tonight. Conveniently, Harry  had slipped a few sleeping pills in the giant roast the Dursleys had  previously devoured at dinner. Not that they had offered Harry any. With  a snap of Harry's fingers, the looks on the door of the cupboard sprang  open. Time to perform some Dark magic. Dear 'Dudders' would be the  first. He basically was a pig with the way he looked and ate, then why  not make him their guinea pig?
                          
"Freak, what have you done to us?", Petunia shrieked again.
                          
The  Cruciatus curse hit her without warning. Both Harry and Voldemort  started to feel lightheaded. Harry released the curse: "If you ever call  me "boy" or "freak" again, I will kill you! Do you understand?"
                          
All three Dursleys stared at Harry like a deer in the headlights.
                          
"Let  me explain this to you very, very slowly and carefully", Harry began  while light-footedly prancing in front of his relatives, "I performed  quite a handy piece of magic on the three of you. Before you ask me how I  know about all this, don't even try. You won't get an answer. But what  you will get, are a few new rules. If I were you, I'd listen. I'm not  going to repeat myself and every violation will be severely punished. Do  you understand?"
                          
The wild Dark magic oozing out of their nephew,  his cold words void of any emotion, well, with the exception of a tiny  bit of glee and insanity, and the remnants of the Cruciatus curse had  the three Dursleys shiver. Normally, Harry would cloak his magic but why  not be a bit theatrical today?