Harry had spent nearly all of the summer at the Burrow this year, and
if Arthur and Molly had anything to say about it, that is where he would
stay forever. Arthur had been doing a spot of checking up on Harry for
Dumbledore again, as he had on occasion all summer. He had apparated in
the back yard of the Dursley's home at dusk and immediately heard some sort
of commotion inside. Pulling out his wand, Arthur quietly snuck up to the
window and peeked in.
What he saw completely stunned him. He saw Mrs. Dursley and that porcine son of hers standing in the hallway looking on in surprise and terror as Mr. Dursley was drawing back a big meaty fist. Harry was already doubled over at the waist, giving Arthur the impression that this wasn't the first blow. Before he could so much as shout a single word, Mr. Dursley's fist slammed into the side of Harry's face and sent his glasses flying across the kitchen. There was another loud bellow from Mr. Dursley and he prepared to hit young Harry again.
Arthur immediately disapparated and reapparated in the kitchen between the two.
"If you're going to wail on somebody, try doing it to someone your own size," he said even though he was nowhere near the morbidly obese man's size.
"Gittoutta ma' way," shouted the big man, waving his other hand at Arthur. Arthur quickly noticed that the other hand was holding a nearly empty bottle of bourbon. "I've 'ad enough o this one. I'ma gonna stop 'is magic once 'n forall."
Mr. Dursley staggered for a second, and in this instant, Arthur surveyed the rest of the scene. Harry's face was covered in blood, his shirt all ripped to pieces and something was spilled all over his jeans. The other Dursley's hadn't moved a muscle since he first saw them. Arthur looked back just in time to see the brown bottle come swinging at his head and barely miss.
"Abierto!" he yelled at the back door and it swung open. Dodging a second swing of the bottle, he pushed Harry out the back door onto the grass. The third time was definitely not the charm for Mr. Weasley, as the huge hand of Mr. Dursley connected solidly with his stomach. Luckily for Arthur, while he was trying to get his breath back, Mr. Dursley stopped to laugh heartily at what he had done. "Look a' 'im, Petunia, can't none o these 'agic folk take a 'it."
To say that Arthur saw red at that moment would be about the biggest understatement of the year. He jumped to his feet and pushed his hair out of his eyes. Waving his wand, he growled out "Tremetrio!" and watched as big Mr. Dursley flew from the kitchen and landed in the sitting room with an explosion similar to a small nuclear weapon. Pictures and plaster fell from the wall and ceiling and silence filled the house.
"Mr. Dursley, we will speak again at a later time. And you, boy, gather Harry's things and bring them here. Go on, choi choi." Dudley looked to his mother and got a quick nod of the head for approval. He stomped up the stairs as quickly as he could, covering his rear in case he might happen to grow another tail.
"Mrs. Dursley," he began, stopping to gather his breath, "I am taking Harry with me, and once I get him proper attention, I am going to call your constabules."
"Constables," she hoarsely corrected him.
"Right. I know that you have no love for your nephew, but to allow this is inexcusable." He was about to berate her more, but Harry's trunk came sliding down the stairs at that moment, followed closely by Dudley who nearly fell and dropped an overflowing armload of Harry's things. Hedwig was most unhappy about being carried in such a way and bit Dudley's finger quite hard.
"Put them on the front walk, please. Careful of the owl, they don't care for jostling." Dudley put the trunk and the rest of Harry's stuff on the walk and quickly scurried to his room.
Mrs. Weasley was now sobbing, but for whom Arthur knew not. He walked out the back door and looked at the beaten and bloody mess that was Harry Potter.
"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry I didn't get here a bit sooner." Harry had passed out and Arthur fought back a tear. Just one minute and we'll get you out of here. He stormed through the house giving Mrs. Dursley's sobbing form a withering stare and headed to the front door. After opening Hedwig's cage and releasing the owl, he pointed his wand at the belongings on the step and waved his wand. "The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole." The objects levitated for a moment and took off through the night sky. "Hedwig, you know where to go. We'll be along shortly." With a squawk, Hedwig took off, heading for the Weasley's.
He walked back through the house and as he stepped out the back door, he turned and said to Mrs. Dursley, "I suggest that you owl an attorney, ma'am." With that he walked out and stepped over to Harry's limp form.
"Let's get you out of here, lad," he said as he picked up Harry and quickly thought that he was surprisingly light for a boy his age. "We'll get you taken care of, Harry. And some good food in you, too." Once he had Harry in his arms, he apparated back to the Burrow.
What he saw completely stunned him. He saw Mrs. Dursley and that porcine son of hers standing in the hallway looking on in surprise and terror as Mr. Dursley was drawing back a big meaty fist. Harry was already doubled over at the waist, giving Arthur the impression that this wasn't the first blow. Before he could so much as shout a single word, Mr. Dursley's fist slammed into the side of Harry's face and sent his glasses flying across the kitchen. There was another loud bellow from Mr. Dursley and he prepared to hit young Harry again.
Arthur immediately disapparated and reapparated in the kitchen between the two.
"If you're going to wail on somebody, try doing it to someone your own size," he said even though he was nowhere near the morbidly obese man's size.
"Gittoutta ma' way," shouted the big man, waving his other hand at Arthur. Arthur quickly noticed that the other hand was holding a nearly empty bottle of bourbon. "I've 'ad enough o this one. I'ma gonna stop 'is magic once 'n forall."
Mr. Dursley staggered for a second, and in this instant, Arthur surveyed the rest of the scene. Harry's face was covered in blood, his shirt all ripped to pieces and something was spilled all over his jeans. The other Dursley's hadn't moved a muscle since he first saw them. Arthur looked back just in time to see the brown bottle come swinging at his head and barely miss.
"Abierto!" he yelled at the back door and it swung open. Dodging a second swing of the bottle, he pushed Harry out the back door onto the grass. The third time was definitely not the charm for Mr. Weasley, as the huge hand of Mr. Dursley connected solidly with his stomach. Luckily for Arthur, while he was trying to get his breath back, Mr. Dursley stopped to laugh heartily at what he had done. "Look a' 'im, Petunia, can't none o these 'agic folk take a 'it."
To say that Arthur saw red at that moment would be about the biggest understatement of the year. He jumped to his feet and pushed his hair out of his eyes. Waving his wand, he growled out "Tremetrio!" and watched as big Mr. Dursley flew from the kitchen and landed in the sitting room with an explosion similar to a small nuclear weapon. Pictures and plaster fell from the wall and ceiling and silence filled the house.
"Mr. Dursley, we will speak again at a later time. And you, boy, gather Harry's things and bring them here. Go on, choi choi." Dudley looked to his mother and got a quick nod of the head for approval. He stomped up the stairs as quickly as he could, covering his rear in case he might happen to grow another tail.
"Mrs. Dursley," he began, stopping to gather his breath, "I am taking Harry with me, and once I get him proper attention, I am going to call your constabules."
"Constables," she hoarsely corrected him.
"Right. I know that you have no love for your nephew, but to allow this is inexcusable." He was about to berate her more, but Harry's trunk came sliding down the stairs at that moment, followed closely by Dudley who nearly fell and dropped an overflowing armload of Harry's things. Hedwig was most unhappy about being carried in such a way and bit Dudley's finger quite hard.
"Put them on the front walk, please. Careful of the owl, they don't care for jostling." Dudley put the trunk and the rest of Harry's stuff on the walk and quickly scurried to his room.
Mrs. Weasley was now sobbing, but for whom Arthur knew not. He walked out the back door and looked at the beaten and bloody mess that was Harry Potter.
"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry I didn't get here a bit sooner." Harry had passed out and Arthur fought back a tear. Just one minute and we'll get you out of here. He stormed through the house giving Mrs. Dursley's sobbing form a withering stare and headed to the front door. After opening Hedwig's cage and releasing the owl, he pointed his wand at the belongings on the step and waved his wand. "The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole." The objects levitated for a moment and took off through the night sky. "Hedwig, you know where to go. We'll be along shortly." With a squawk, Hedwig took off, heading for the Weasley's.
He walked back through the house and as he stepped out the back door, he turned and said to Mrs. Dursley, "I suggest that you owl an attorney, ma'am." With that he walked out and stepped over to Harry's limp form.
"Let's get you out of here, lad," he said as he picked up Harry and quickly thought that he was surprisingly light for a boy his age. "We'll get you taken care of, Harry. And some good food in you, too." Once he had Harry in his arms, he apparated back to the Burrow.