Wow, thanks so much for your kind reviews! This chapter is specially dedicated to V1cky84 (my first reviewer! :D), FlamingHooligan, G Wiz 13, Kimco96, G, Potter fan, rider 007, Oirasse, and Lady Dunla ,your support really encouraged me a lot. Thanks so much!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of J. K. Rowling's awesome magical world.


"You promised the money a week before, Dursley."

Dudley flinched slightly at the dangerous tone, shifting from one foot to another. "I know, I swear- tomorrow, I'll get-"

The tallest of the gang delivered a swift kick to Dudley's stomach, followed by a quick elbow strike on Dudley's back, winding the boy temporarily. Dudley collasped to the floor, panting and breathing heavily, his eyes watering from the pain.

"Tomorrow, tomorrow then tomorrow," hissed the eldest member of the gang, Cain. "Tell you what Dud, we're not idiots. You're broke."

Dudley shook his head frantically, but Cain merely sneered coldly at him. "We don't cater broke trash like you," he said. "You're not having any until you have the full payment. And if you don't get the money ready by tomorrow..."

"I swear, I will," Dudley mumbled weakly, still crouching on the ground, his hands squeezing the grass blades as though to relieve his pain.

"You'd better. Or we might just kill you by nightfall. Mike knows an organization... at least your organs will be worth some pounds, eh?" another laughed.

Cain delivered a final departing kick to Dudley's ribs, before signalling to the rest of the gang, and they left the place quietly... leaving Dudley bleeding on the grass.

xXx

Chapter Two, Black Shadows

Despite his initial tiredness, Harry couldn't sleep that night. His mind kept drifting back to his cousin's alarming changes, even his way of speech, his physical appearance, his facial expressions... all of it had changed, into something worse than before. And that was saying something.

That wasn't the only reason that kept Harry from sleeping; it was also due to the fact that he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. Tomorrow, presumably if Uncle Vernon drove him to London, he would be able to return his uncle the three hundred pounds Dudley stole... but what should he do about Dudley's blackmail? He knew his cousin could just easily do everything all over again, and with the repetition of the earlier drama, Harry wasn't sure if Uncle Vernon would really kill his nephew with his bare hands as promised.

Telling them that he never stole it wouldn't make the slightest difference.

If he made sure Dudley never stole it, then?

Impossible. He couldn't well be following his cousin about, that would draw more suspicion.

Would Aunt Petunia believe him?

Certainly not.

And the worst thing was, there was no one else he could appeal to for help, or even advice. Hedwig was gone, flying outside in the night sky, enjoying herself, while her master was trapped in a prison at Privet Drive, so many worries weighing down on his mind.

"Of all days, you just had to ditch me tonight, didn't you?" Harry muttered moodily at the cage, eyeing the uneaten sunflower seeds he had dropped into Hedwig's cage earlier with a pang of disappointment and loss.

He lay back in his bed again, counting the hours to dawn.

Finally, it was when his block beeped, signalling the approach of three o' clock dawn, when it suddenly hit Harry with a jolt- Dudley wasn't back yet.

Or was he? Harry wasn't sure. Directly after leaving Harry's room at twelve, Dudley had left Privet Drive quietly- Harry had heard the sound of the front door closing silently, and watched Dudley's crouching figure glance around suspicously before leaving the house alone. Then he heard the soft echoing sound of someone whistling again, then silence.

And the silence had dragged on until three hours later.

Harry was starting to feel uneasy, though he denied the thought of him being worried. And he didn't like the feeling one bit. Partly because he was appalled at himself for thinking about his cousin at all. Yet, another part of his brain was working through possibilities of what could have happened to his cousin. Was he being beaten up by his gang? Or was Dudley beating someone else up? Were they robbing a house? Inhaling drugs together?

Harry shuddered slightly, from the chill or foreboding thoughts, he wasn't sure. What would Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon say about this when they found out?

Harry immediately scoffed to himself. Doubtless, they would go, "It's not possible, Diddy-dums' - or whatever it was- would never do such a thing. This absolutely ridiculous! How dare you make such a prepostorous accusation!-" blah di blah di blah. After all, they were always too keen to believe the best of their child... even though Dudley once resembled a hippopotamus, was a school bully, and was now a member of a gang, and quite possibly a drug addict as well. Wonderful.

He had barely even seen his cousin for a few hours, before he had immediately hit on the right conclusion, that Dudley was inhaling drugs, but no- Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had stayed with Dudley throughout his entire summer and they never even noticed a thing. All Petunia knew was that her Diddy-dumbs had suddenly grown thin and oh- so- handsome. Ugh.

The clock hand reached three.

Still, there was no sign of Dudley.

The clock hand struck half past three.

The clock hand struck twenty minutes to four.

Eighteen minutes to four. Sixteen. A quarter...

Click.

Harry heard the front door open.

Dudley was back.

Without quite knowing why, he felt himself relax, his thudding heart slowing into a moderate pace.

He turned around on his bed, cast a final glance out of his window for Hedwig, before turning over with a bitter sense of disappointment in his heart as he drifted to sleep.


Harry woke up early and groggy the next day, despite his previous night's extreme lack of sleep. He had a long list of uncompleted chores to work on, and getting on Uncle Vernon's bad side today was the worst thing he could possibly think of doing. Especially after the fiasco yesterday afternoon.

Sighing, Harry trudged down the staircase, rubbing his eyes tiredly in the early dawn light. Mentally going through his list of chores, Harry decided that he would start on making breakfast first. Just in case Uncle Vernon decided to go to work early today... it was Friday, after all.

Harry had just reached the bottom of the stairs when something at the bottom of it stirred. Harry started slightly, before his eyes widened in horror.

"Dudley?" he gasped.

The red stained grey figure stirred slightly on the floor, before Dudley opened one bloodshot eye and mumbled something incoherent. Harry started forwards, but Dudley immediately seized the nearest carpet and squeezed it, as though to strangle it.

"Dudley, what in the name of Merlin are you doing here?" Harry hissed, walking down the last few steps before coming to a halt before his now- panting cousin.

"N-Need it..." muttered Dudley, seemingly derilious... yet his bloodshot eyes were fixed on Harry unnervingly. Harry felt a chill run down his spine.

"Get up, Dud," he began, though he was pretty certain that his cousin wouldn't be doing that anytime soon. What had happened yesterday night? Dudley had gone out with his gang, hadn't he? Or was it as Harry predicted? Dudley had been beaten up by his own gang?

Dudley, on his part, tried to do so, but in the end he collasped back onto the carpet and began to shiver, violently. Each shudder started to become even more vigorous than the last, and Harry couldn't help but feel panic slowly claw up his throat.

"Hold on," he said, to no one in particular, before racing up the stairs, two at a time.

"Aunt Petunia!"


For the rest of the day, Harry felt completely disorientated. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, as Uncle Vernon hadn't gave him any new chores, and he had completed the ones leftover from yesterday, so he just lounged about in the house, completely alone, unsure of what he was to do.

He hadn't told Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon about Dudley taking drugs. He wasn't quite sure why; it just didn't occur to him.

After he had managed to get both his uncle and aunt out of their room, Aunt Petunia had rushed downstairs first, only closely followed by Uncle Vernon. Harry could still remember the eerie silence that descended as both parents came to a shocked halt as they neared the bottom of the stairs, before Petunia finally stumbled down the last steps faintly, as though in a trance.

"Duddd-dders," her voice trembled, and her whole figure seemed to shake with the effort. Uncle Vernon's eyes were widened in horror, before they automatically flicked, suspiciously, towards Harry. He remembered feeling a cold chill run up his spine at his uncle's furious look.

"Did you do this?" Uncle Vernon's voice was low, only directed at Harry. Petunia's face was white, and she fell slowly beside her son, her breathing laboured with tears. Dudley seemed barely conscious now, his hands were grasping the carpet so tightly his knuckles were white, his body was convulsing, his eyes tightly close.

Harry never realized he started back, until his arm hit the bannisters. "What-?" he said, incredulous and shocked by the sudden accusation, "I swear, I did nothing!"

Uncle Vernon said nothing, he merely walked down the last few steps and knelt down beside Dudley, calling "Son! My son!" over and over again. Both parents were holding Dudley's limp hand, tears coming down fast. Harry thought they were at least checking for Dudley's pulse, but it turned out it was nothing of that sort. They were merely in shock; stunned by the sudden occurrence of things.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that Harry was most used to the occurrence of a life crisis; he was the first to snap out of it.

"We need to call the ambulance," he said out loud.

Both parents said nothing, though Harry noticed Uncle Vernon's figure go rigid and Aunt Petunia looked up, angling her chin slightly in his direction.

"We need to call the ambulance now," Harry repeated, more urgency in his tone this time. "Dudley needs help."

The rare history occurred when the Dursleys agreed to what Harry said. Quickly, Vernon and Petunia straightened and strode towards the handset in unison- Uncle Vernon reached it first. His fingers were a blur as he dialled the number quickly, stabbing each button with his pointer, hard. He had then maintained an extraordinary composure as he quickly told their address over the phone and asked for the nearest hospital ambulance to be directed over as fast as possible. It was only when he had closed the fist on the line when Vernon's face started to regain its usual beetroot palour.

He turned around and looked Harry straight in the eye, his tendons taut in his neck.

"We'll talk about this when I get back," he promised.

Five minutes later, an ambulance had arrived, and all the Dursleys departed for the General Hospital, leaving Uncle Vernon's implied threat hanging in the air, leaving Harry utterly lost and feeling totally alone back in Privet Drive.

When the clock approached seven in the evening, the sky rapidly turning dark, Harry returned to his room.

But when his eyes fell on Hedwig's empty cage again, he closed the door and when back down the stairs.

xXx

Thirty minutes later, Harry heard a low whistle outside the garden gates. It sounded a little like an owl's hoot, and at first Harry was inclined to think of it that way- but when it was repeated again and again with higher urgency, Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He recalled hearing it yesterday night, presumably when Dudley had went out to meet his gang- but at that time it sounded soft and faraway. He didn't know if it was the same whistle he was hearing.

Hoot. Hoot...

This time, the whistle was long and loud, unmistakable for the cry of a bird. Harry felt his hackles rise on end as the whistle grew increasingly louder.

The whistling stopped. Abruptly.

Harry glanced up; the sky was already dark. The Dursleys hadn't returned yet; they hadn't even called back. Were they returning that night at all?

BANG!

Harry shot up, alarmed at the sudden commotion. Darkness had long since fallen across the threshold; the faint twilight that filtered in through the windows was already fading rapidly away. He felt a wave of dizziness sweep over him as he stood. He hadn't eaten anything since yesterday night, but he wasn't hungry and he couldn't bother to eat something, not even some water.

Dark shadows were crossing the lawn. Harry felt his heart fall to the bottom of his stomach as he saw three dark figures climb nimbly over Number Four Privet Drive's gate. So much for Uncle Vernon's fences.

Harry felt his right hand reach for his wand automatically, and it was comforting to have it there, even though he knew he couldn't use it. But at least it was an assurance that he had something to defend himself with, in the case that his life were to be threatened.

As Harry stationed himself behind the wooden door, breathing deeply, he couldn't help but reflect on his fate. In the wizarding world, it was Death- Eaters... in the Muggle world, it was gangsters and drug addicts. Just how much luckier could he get?

"Dursley!" there was a loud shout, outside the wooden door. Just inches away from where Harry stood. Harry felt his feet lock to the ground, his muscles tensed, as though prepared for the three figures outside to force their way into the house.

Heavy blows landed on the door, and hands started to twist and jerk the knob roughly, as though trying to yank it out. "DURSLEY!"

Still, Harry remained silent. What else was he supposed to do? Open the front door and confront them? What if they decided to take on him instead, with Dudley out of the way? What if they decided to rob the house? Could Harry pass off Stunning three Muggles as an act of defense? But he didn't want a repeat of his Fifth- Year, when Dudley and him had encountered the attack of Dementors. And even then he'd been charged with underage magic. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he were to attack three Muggles instead.

There was silence, for a while, before a rough voice suddenly spoke up. "He's on the other side of the door."

Harry started backwards, his hand gripping his wand tighter than ever. How had they known?

"Tell you what Dursley," snarled the same voice, now leaning closer to talk through the keyhole, "You're opening the door right now, or we shall break it down. You can choose. Step out here quietly and no one will hear a thing, or wait in there for us to get you. Choose your option."

Both weren't pleasant options. Harry couldn't help but wish there was a third... before remembering that he could choose a different course of action.

The idea of hiding around the house, hoping the gangsters wouldn't notice him was a foolish and cowardly act which he immediately dismissed. The other option would be to wait for them to smash down the front door and carry out their threat, which wouldn't be good either. Calling the police would do no good what- so- ever, as he would be long dead by the time they arrived. The only one left was... open confrontation.

And the best method to do so?

By using the element of surprise.

Vague plans flitted around his head, as his mind raced through hundreds of possibilities. Perhaps, if this had happened a little later, he could figure things out and outwit them... but time was the one thing he did not have. He would just have to improvise, and hope his actions wouldn't cost him his life, blood, bruises or broken doors. Uncle Vernon would kill him even if Dudley's gang didn't.

Without being quite sure what he was going to do next, Harry stepped closer to the door, and yanked it open in one fluid action, not pausing to draw breath. One of the gang members had been pressing his ear to the keyhole when Harry did so, and it caused said figure to fall, sprawling onto the carpet like some rag doll.

Harry couldn't help but still at the sight of the crumpled figure, who was slowly pushing himself up.

Heavens above, this was... another drug addict.

The gang member looked even worse than Dudley; he was all bruises, taut skin, protruding veins and bones. The boy- or man?- he wasn't sure, had horribly sunken cheeks and eyes, and his eyes betrayed the same kind of thirst and hunger Harry was slowly beginning to recognize.

It was then when Harry quickly remembered his plan... the display of confidence.

"What the blazes do you think you're doing here, yelling empty threats?!" Harry bellowed, pitching his voice as deep as he could, and adapting the fiercest expression he could muster. Again, Uncle Vernon was his role model. "There ain't no Dursleys here!"

"We want to speak to Dudley," spoke up the second member, Cain. His face was still hidden in the shadows, but somehow Harry knew by the authority in the man's voice, he was the ring leader. The red circle tattoo on his wrist kind of carried the point across as well.

"He's out," snapped Harry. "Not here. And he won't be for a long while, for that matter. The Dursleys are out holidaying."

Cain nodded slightly, lazily, before all of a sudden, he had crossed the threshold, and Harry was pinned to the door in a harsh, iron grip.

Damn, that guy was fast.

"What about you, kid?" he asked softly, his breath hot against Harry's cheek. "Any cash?"

"No," Harry bit out, hoping Cain wouldn't hear his thudding heart. "I was accused of stealing money yesterday. The Dursleys have locked up all they have for fear I will attempt thievery again once they're gone."

Cain frowned. "But where are they, kid? They can't be far." He leaned in closer, his nose inches from Harry's. "I don't like lies, kid."

"Out," repeated Harry, trying to sound more annoyed than uncertain. "Didn't you hear me the first time? "

"Out where?" demanded Cain, and he drove his knuckle into Harry's abdomen in emphasis of his point, winding the younger boy temporarily. Harry's eyes watered with pain, but he pretended otherwise.

"A family trip," Harry gritted out, forcing himself to meet Cain's cold, pale blue ones. "You can come back after summer. They'll be back then."

"And Dudley Dursley will be safe at school," snarled Cain, his eyes boring fiercely into Harry's. "I'm not an idiot, boy… but it seems like you are. Haven't I warned you about lying to me? Perhaps not…"

"Well then perhaps you've got the wrong person to interrogate," Harry said, and with a force he never knew he had, he threw Cain off himself, shrugging his right shoulder as he did so to get more feeling back into it. "I'm not one of the Dursleys. In fact, I'm far from it. So if you have any problems with Dudley, take it to them in Florida."

Cain stepped back and watched Harry with a hardened gaze.

Harry merely glared back, his façade still in place. "Wish you a nice flight," he added sarcastically.

For that moment, Cain nodded, as though buying it, before he turned around to leave. But as Harry's posture visibly relaxed, he looked back and smiled, one that made Harry tense up again.

"You're a natural," Cain said, looking Harry up and down. "Care to join us?"

"Frankly, I find it warmer here," Harry replied, his eyes betraying nothing.

Dudley's gang turned around in unison, and following their leader, trooped away into the night.

When the Dursleys returned from the hospital that night- Harry was still wondering why he had lied for them.


"Boy!" the rough call outside his room brought Harry back from his musings with a bump. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Harry got up again, feeling exhaustion threatening to pull him down like a physical weight. His previous act had taken quite a lot out of his already tired self.

His feet felt like lead, but still he forced himself towards the door, before yanking the door open. For a moment, his eyes met Uncle Vernon's glaring red ones. Then Harry stepped back mutely and allowed his uncle to pass, not wanting to rise to any accusations all over again. He was too tired to deal with his uncle now, not after he had just dealt with Dudley's gang. He needed his bed…

Harry barely felt the hands close around his neck, before he realized he was pinned up against the wall in another iron grip for the second time that night. He opened his eyes wearily, his face pale, his expression clearly saying something along the lines of "What now?"

Uncle Vernon then glanced about furtively, before quickly letting go of Harry and closing the windows and door. He then rounded on his nephew all over again, his shoulders squared and eyes narrowed.

"Tell me boy," he said in what that could classify as a slow and intimidating voice. "What the blazes happened!"

Harry felt no trace of fear; all he felt was weariness. He looked his uncle in the eye and said, "I think you know what happened."

Vernon glared at Harry with as much ferocity as he could muster. It was then when Harry noticed that his uncle's balled fists were shaking ever so slightly.

"The doctors found out," Harry continued, looking at his uncle, gaining confirmation at the slight flinch. "You know it already… why do you ask me?"

"I want to know what happened to my son!" Uncle Vernon roared, his eyes wide and furious, spittle flying everywhere, just as Harry was used to it.

"Dudley is taking drugs," Harry said, cutting across his uncle, and their eyes met each other's challengingly, steadily. "He's involved in some gang as well, and he went out to meet them yesterday night. For some reason I don't know, they beat Dudley up."

Uncle Vernon shook his head slightly. "No," he said, his voice no longer a risen shout, which caused Harry to look up at his uncle in mild apprehension. "No, boy-" he repeated, "I want to know the truth. What really happened."

"This is the truth," snapped Harry. "I've realized it in the few hours I've stepped into this house, when you have been blind to it for the entire summer!"

"Do you think I'd really not make the connection!" hissed Uncle Vernon, stepping closer. "Every single bloody time you return from your freak school to my roof, something happens to my boy. Last summer it was the Demon thingy, and now this!"

Harry felt a surge of desperation and anger surface in him. "Magic," he spat the word out, gaining little satisfaction as his uncle's face whitened, "has nothing to do with this, nor have I."

"Dudley has always been a great son," Uncle Vernon said fiercely. "I refuse to believe that he'd be let astray to such a path!"

"Then that's none of my business!" said Harry angrily, his patience finally spent and snapped. "You've always been inclined to see the best of your child and worst of me the moment I came under your roof. There is nothing more I can do to remedy that fact. The only thing else I can say is that Dudley's gang will be back, looking for him- soon."

He met his uncle's gaze for the last time, before his uncle finally stepped out. Without waiting for another word, Harry slammed his room door shut, locking it.

Hedwig's cage was still empty.


xXxXxXx


That night was cold.

Harry had long since forgotten that it was supposed to be the middle of summer. There ought to be a sultry weather, the intense glare of the sun. A blast of warm, grass- scented air during the nights.

But the Dementors seemed to have affected the weather as well. Fog and mist swirled around the night, some entering through his open window, like tendrils of white smoke. Sometimes, when his eyelids grew heavy, he could almost pretend that it was his snowy owl soaring through the opening. Despite all his training for the first ten years of his life, he just couldn't get used to having loneliness as a friend.

He felt as though he'd been doing it for all eternity; counting the seconds, the minutes, as the clock hand slowly inched to the next number, then the next, then the next. He felt tired, his body a complete wreck after not eating nor drinking for the entire day, yet sleep evaded him.

If he kept this up, surely he'd look more like a drug addict than his cousin.

Dudley had been somewhat disorientated when he had returned from the hospital. The doctors said that he was fine- there were no broken bones nor major injuries, just a few scratches and bruises- as far as Harry could tell from Petunia's conversation with his uncle. Dudley had been rendered weak and derilous mainly due to exhaustion, extremely poor stamina and most importantly, the lack of drugs, which he relied upon to give his body a boost everyday.

Other than that, Harry knew nothing about his cousin's present condition, who was sleeping only a few rooms away. No one had felt it important to keep him informed.

It wasn't that he needed to know, anyway.

Harry must have drifted off a bit, under the caress of the cool night breeze, for when he next woke up, he felt something heavy land on the bed beside him. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he turned around, before his breath froze in his throat.

"Hello Harry," smirked the same lazy, calm voice beside him.

The leader of Dudley's gang. Cain.

Harry slid off the bed as quick as possible, his hand already reaching into his pocket for his wand. Thank the heavens, it was still there in his pocket. Luckily he had never heeded Moody's constant warnings about not putting his wand in his pocket.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?!" he hissed, his heart thumping an irregular rhythm in his ribcage as he forced himself not to raise his wand.

The dark- haired leader did not reply; he merely smiled, his reasonably handsome features twisted into a lazy smirk. Then he raised his fingers to his lips and blew out a loud whistle, continuous and blaring.

Harry's eyes widened in recognition- the last time he had heard it, the entire gang had nearly smashed down the front door.

He just knew something bad was going to happen.

Without pausing for thought, Harry rushed towards the window and put his fingers to his lips like Cain did. Except that he blew short, quick whistles and kept up an irregular hooting, meaning to disrupt Cain's signal.

The next second, an elbow strike hit him hard in the stomach, followed by a fluid palm strike to the back of his neck. Harry felt the world tilt precariously, and the dark room grew even darker. He never even realized he was sinking to his knees when the gang leader held him upright by yanking his right shoulder, so tightly he thought Cain meant to rip it out.

"As I said, you have potential," the elder of the pair said, still holding Harry at arm's length, his pale blue eyes suddenly striking as they glittered. "More potential then the rest of the gang, at any rate..."

Harry wrenched himself away with a look of contempt, though the effort sent waves of nausea coursing through him. His ears were ringing- why could he hear shouts and screams? Were they in the back of his head?

Merlin. It was really happening. Someone was screaming downstairs. Pieces of broken lines and puzzles suddenly connected, causing his heart to lurch- the reason why there were cries coming downstairs. The reason why the gang leader was here, in his room-

He darted out towards the door, actually managing to yank it open before Cain's arm shot out, grabbing his elbow and twisting it. In response, Harry lashed out with a converted version of a twist- kick, but the gang leader merely stepped neatly out of the way, though it did force him to release Harry's hand.

"What do you think you're doing!" snarled Harry. "If it's just money you want-"

"I merely granted my members their wish," Cain shrugged carelessly. "And it isn't that simple anymore. We need to teach the Dursleys a lesson."

Downstairs, there was a loud crash, and Uncle Vernon shouted something. Petunia screamed.

The Dursleys?

"Vernon Dursley gave us a talk that, I'm afraid, insulted our pride," the gang leader continued. "This course of action is necessary."

"And what about me?" asked Harry, edging slowly towards the door, still facing Cain.

"I told you I detested lies, Harry," the leader said lightly. "A lesson ought to be taught to you as well, but I am willing to give you another option."

Harry ignored the last part of the sentence and focused on a single word uttered by the leader instead. "How did you know my name?" he demanded.

Cain laughed. "That's an easy question. Ask your dear cousin."

With that last word, he lunged at Harry again. But Harry reached the door first.

Harry immediately winced as his cut foot connected with solid ground, hard, as he ducked another blow from Cain and ran outside. Downstairs, chaos reigned; at least three figures in black were throwing the Dursleys' furniture about, breaking china and upturning sofas- Petunia was crying and sobbing hysterically in the corner. Vernon was roaring something, before he strode towards the handset, but one of the gang members immediately seized his hand and twisted it viciously.

Vernon roared in pain and dropped the handset, which was promptly smashed into bits of plastic and wires by another member's hammer. Harry felt his throat tighten at the scene, caught between fear, panic and desperation- once again unsure of what he was supposed to do.

"DAD!"

Harry felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach- Dudley had chosen this moment to appear.

"Get away, you idiot-" Harry began, but Cain had already reached Dudley, his hands reaching for Dudley's neck as he began to strangle the younger boy. Harry immediately caught Cain in another converted version of a back- kick - it had been ages since he last attended a junior martial arts class- but it served as a distraction for Uncle Vernon to reach them.

"How dare you lot hurt my son!" Vernon bellowed, his face livid, so alike to what Harry was used to see his uncle before. But this time, there seemed to be some wild animal rage in his uncle that made Uncle Vernon seize a hammer out of nowhere, and hack downwards at Cain.

Cain ducked away with unbelievable speed, and performed a perfect twist- kick to Uncle Vernon's back, causing the man to double over in pain.

It was then Harry saw a flash- a gleam of silver caught by the little moonlight that filtered into the dark house- as the gang leader slid something out of his sleeve-

"Stupefy!" Harry cried, a jet of red light darting out of his wand, heading towards Cain, even as a crimson stain began to spread rapidly across Uncle Vernon's back. Below, the figures in black- which ironically reminded Harry of Death- Eaters- looked up one by one, realizing their leader had fallen.

Cain slumped backwards and fell, his head hitting the bannisters as he began to tumble down the steps, unconscious.

"Dursley attacked Cain!" A cry, seemingly so far away, echoed numbly in Harry's ears.

He didn't know what to do; there never seemed enough time for planning. All he knew was that he couldn't stay.

But when the gangsters came charging up at them, some not even themselves for consuming too much drugs- Harry casted a last spell, a shield over them both, seized his cousin's hand and fled down the stairs, out into the night.

A/N: Here's an extra long chapter in thanks for your support and encouragement in the last chapter! Thanks so much for reading. Please review, or rate if you don't feel like it?

:D for awesome

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'X' for terrible.

Thank you!
Epsilon Scorpii