Title: Chaos… Confusion… Love?

Summary: Chaos… Destruction… Confusion… Hysteria…. Frenzy… Love? That doesn't even begin to describe what was going on.

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. Deal with it.

"…seventy degrees for the next week, clear skies, and absolutely no chance of precipitation. Back to you, Michael," the weatherman rang out through the blasting television in the Dursley's living room.

Harry had just come home from his sixth year of Hogwarts and was anxiously awaiting his chance to leave his "family" for the rest of his life. That day couldn't come fast enough. He had been banned from watching any television for his entire stay as a going away present. Although the Dursleys weren't smart enough to realize he just had to hide from view. The only reason he had continued to listen was that some "unusual things" had been occurring in the muggle world, like various deaths and missing persons. Not tonight, though.

"Thanks, John. In other news… actually, there is no other news. We've had a pretty boring day. So if you're watching this channel, I suggest you change it." There was a clear sound in the background of the television that could only mean the reporter was being yelled at. "In sports…"

At this point, Uncle Vernon turned down the volume on the TV and complained about poor work ethic. Harry relaxed slightly, believing that the muggles would have noticed if Voldemort had done something terrible.

"What's this?" Harry heard his Uncle ask a little later on, followed by the gradual rising of the television volume.

"Breaking News. We're sorry to cut into your regularly scheduled program, but it seems there was a large explosion in London," Gasps were released from all present Dursleys. Harry cautiously left his hiding spot to better see the TV. "That's right. Our sources have been confirmed. There was an explosion in London about nine o'clock this night. Buildings in the immediate area were torn to shreds and whole walls blown clean off the sides. Few survivors are reported to be found."

All was quiet for a moment as the reporter received further information from his earpiece. The Dursleys were deathly silent. And then the report continued.

"We have our very own Jessica on the scene. Jessica, what's happening?"

A young woman with long flowing hair holding a microphone appeared on the screen. She had a very serious look on her face and was clearly troubled by what she saw. Behind her on the right stood tall building stained with ash up to the tenth floor. On her left were several destroyed structures and burnt automobiles.

"Well, fires are still erupting in the surrounding streets, but there doesn't seem to be any danger for another attack, if it was an attack. As you can hear, the city is filled with sirens and yells of anguish. Police are currently reviewing the security cameras from the street, but are unsure if they made it through the blast. Hold on a moment," Jessica, the reporter, said, holding up a finger as if the audience was right in front of her.

Aunt Petunia leaned in toward the screen, mouth agape, asking, "What? What happened?"

"I have just been informed that the police were unsuccessful in their search through the tapes. They only were able to tell us that a telephone booth was standing in the exact spot where the damage is worst." This time it was Harry's mouth to fall several inches.

'It couldn't be the Ministry of Magic, could it?' Harry worriedly thought. The Dursleys, though, found the most recent fact trivial at best.

The reporter asked someone behind the camera a question which Harry missed, but then came back and explained the conversation. "We have a visual of where the phone booth stood." The camera turned. "As you can see there isn't much left but pieces of stone and charcoal-color smoke."

All that remained was a crater the size of a car and stones thrown randomly to the side. The sky was pitch black and full of smoke. The police had formed a protective circle around the hole to keep the people there at a safe distance.

"There is no sign of the cause, but police assure us they are thoroughly investigating. We'll keep you updated, but until then, back to you Michael." The picture on the television turned into a middle aged man wearing a suit and a solemn expression.

"This is hard to follow, but in more local news…" Again the sound diminished.

Silence rang throughout the house and demanded entrance into the rest of the street. It was so dominant that Harry thought he could hear a pin drop in America. He felt the whole country most have heard the report, muggles and wizards alike. How could anyone have missed such a significant broadcast?

Immediately, his mind started to race with thoughts bouncing off the walls of his brain until it hurt. Was that the ministry? What happened to those innocent people? What about those in the Ministry? What about the Minister? What about Percy? What about Mr. Weasley? Could the rest of the Weasley's have been visiting at the time? Was Ron there? Was Ginny?

The oven beeped to warn Aunt Petunia that her precious dinner was burning, but she had no reaction. Even through all he had to comprehend, Harry still had time to notice that his aunt's actions were quite unusual and that she must have realized the importance of the attack as he did. But probably not for the innocent lives that were lost.

The oven continued to beep every twenty seconds and the side dish on the frying pan began to sizzle. Aunt Petunia absentmindedly waved her hand at Harry to stop the beeping. Harry got up to comply and accidentally bumped into the couch and fell to the floor face first. As he got up off the ground, he realized that his glasses weren't on his face. He bent down to pick them up. When his fingers finally grazed past them, he felt they were shattered. Unable to use magic before his birthday, Harry was forced to wonder if the ministry would send a letter to ban him form Hogwarts. But he first had to find out if they had been attacked. There was a simple way.

Harry walked to the cupboard that contained his magic possessions and burst the door open with wandless magic caused by the new surge of emotions he was feeling. Then he grabbed his wand and repaired his glasses with a swift flick. If a letter from the ministry came, at least he knew they were safe, if it didn't… he rather didn't like to think of that.

The letter never arrived.