When Hunting Monsters

Chapter 3: Awaken into a Nightmare

An obnoxiously normal looking gray sedan sped down the road to little whinging on its way to Privet Drive. The occupants who wished they were as normal as their car were in a rush to get home. The driver laid on his horn, clearly very annoyed at the slow moving lorry impeding his progress in front of him.

"Bloody drive faster you Ponce!" Vernon Dursley screamed, chin wobbling and spit spraying out the window as he jerked his car into the other lane and passed the poor lorry driver who was left wondering who pissed in the irate man's cereal.

"Vernon calm down please, we don't want to get in an accident," Petunia said, placing a placating hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Yes dear," Vernon mumbled under his breath, slowing down…slightly.

"Do you think he's gone yet?"

"Do I think who's gone yet?"

"The boy, Vernon."

"Oh. Him. He bloody better be! I'm not putting up with another day of that freak's insolence! Sixteen years Petunia, sixteen years I've tolerated him in my house, provided for him! Not anymore, you hear me?! If he's still there when we get home, He'll be packing his bags full of his freak things promptly!" Vernon ranted, wagging his sausage like finger in Petunia's face.

"VERNON SlOW DOWN!" she screeched, her eyes wide in fright.

Alarmed, Vernon turned his eyes back to the road, noticing the cones blocking the way, along with stop signs, construction signs and the bobby's car pulled to the side of the road. He quickly slammed on his breaks, sending the car skidding and his stomach into the dashboard. Petunia wasn't so lucky as she didn't have any extra padding. There was an ominous crunch as her face impacted with the glove box.

"Ughh…Bernon my bose, I bink its boken," Petunia moaned clutching her face and sobbing as the car came to a stop.

"Shhh. There, there my Petunia flower. Everything will be alright," Vernon comforted his wife. "Let me take a look at it," He attempted to pry her hands away from her face.

"Noo, stob! Domb loob ab me!" Petunia was hysterical now, holding her head between her knees.

Vernon was distracted from his attempts to console his wife, as there was a tapping on the window. He looked up to see the bobby that must have been in the car. He was leaned over with his face very close to the window, a vacant expression upon it.

"Yes officer?" Vernon questioned, somewhat annoyed. Couldn't the man see he was a little preoccupied?

"Is everything alright in there?" The officer sent a concerned look at Petunia, it didn't look very sincere.

"Everything's quite fine." Vernon said curtly. "What's the holdup?

"Well there's construction going on you know. You're gonna have to wait here Sir." The bobby gestured vaguely in the distance where said construction was supposedly taking place. Vernon couldn't hear any bulldozers or machinery.

"Now see here!" Vernon shouted, puffing up like a particularly indignant bullfrog. "My wife is in need of medical attention, because of your silly cones, and I'll not have her suffer because of construction!"

"The hospital is in the other direction Mr. Dursley." The bobby grinned, his eyes seemed devoid of emotion. Like a robot.

Vernon didn't realize he knew his name, so enraged was he at the bobby mocking him.

"We'll just be going that way then. Good Day," Vernon sneered and made to roll down the window. The bobby grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"Ah well I'm afraid we can't have that, now can we?" The empty grin now seemed sinister.

"What is…What's the meaning of this?!" Vernon sputtered attempting to wrench his arm away, but failing under the man's vice like grip.

The bobby pulled his gun from his holster, and Petunia, who, hearing her husband's distress, had finally looked up, let out a piercing scream.

Taking a few steps backwards, the bobby let go of Vernon and brought the gun up, aiming directly between Vernon's eyes. Even as he held the gun, ready to kill, his eyes were empty of sentience, and the dreamlike expression was still fixed upon his face.

"Goodbye Dursleys!" The last thing Petunia and Vernon heard were two gunshots as a bullet impacted with both their skulls, and the car was filled with an explosion of brain matter.

Harry awoke to the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. His head reeling, he attempted to get his bearings and sit up before seeing what was laying next to him and promptly retching.

From what was left Harry could tell it was a human carcass. The throat was completely torn out and whatever had killed the person had started in on the stomach and chest. The intestines were stretched out away from the body in a slimy trail on what Harry now realized was the forest floor.

I must be in the woods behind the neighborhood, he thought. Did I do this, it must have been me. There's blood in my mouth and it's not mine. Harry definitely knew what his own blood tasted like after having the runes carved on his face.

"Oh god," Harry despaired, a sinking feeling in his gut. "I'm a murderer…and a fucking cannibal"

He scrambled around on the forest floor, searching for anything to identify the remains of what looked to be a man. The shreds of black cloth on the man's body seemed like they had at one time been robes, and the man was clutching a wand in his hand. Harry really hoped he hadn't eaten one of the Order members who had been guarding him. That wouldn't have very positive repercussions.

Beside what was left of the carcass's head was something shiny. It was a piece of some kind of hard silver material. As he grabbed it his hand brushed away a small pile of leaves, revealing two bigger pieces. He fit them all together into a mask, one he recognized very well….. the mask of a deatheater.

Harry felt a small measure of relief that the man he had apparently eaten wasn't an innocent person, or someone he knew, but it raised several questions. The most important of which was: What the hell is a sodding deatheater doing in Little Whinging?

He recalled the conversation in Dumbledore's office, about how the wards his mother's love had created we're supposed to protect him from being found by deatheaters. Last summer he and Dudley had been set upon by dementors, but that was because they had been far away from the house. He was close enough now that the only way the deatheater could be here was if the wards had failed. That meant Petunia had to be dead. He wasn't sure if the wards worked for the dursley's when he wasn't near them but he knew they were tied to Petunia, so either the deatheaters managed to get to her, or she died in some kind of an accident. Either way the mauled deatheater's presence indicated Voldemort knew, and had probably sent his followers to # 4 privet drive, looking for Harry. Dudley was still there, defenseless against magic.

Harry knew he needed to get there fast, but he couldn't do it starkers. He got to his feet and almost fell over as the world spun. He was still dizzy, and just realized he was much taller than he had been before, and that he wasn't wearing glasses. His hair had also grown and was a good deal longer then it had been when he had shaved it. The ritual had to have changed his body to fit whatever his form was. The guide had mentioned that.

He shook his head clearing it of thoughts. He couldn't speculate over the transformation now, he needed a plan. Harry looked down and spotted the wand clenched in the dead man's hand. He grabbed for it and cast a summoning charm, pulling the tatters of robe off the dead body.

"Reparo! Reparo!" He shouted, fixing the robes and then the mask on the ground. It wasn't a perfect job. The robes were still splattered with blood, and somewhat torn and the mask had small fractures in it. The wand must not be responding to him as well as his own. It didn't matter; he didn't have time for perfection.

Harry pulled the robes on only to find they barely reached his shins, so he bent down and pulled off the deatheater's boots. It wouldn't do if he got seen barefoot. The cover he was planning would get blown. They at least seemed to fit alright and were actually kind of comfortable. The mask was a different story as when he attempted to put it on his face it just slid off, and didn't have any kind of strap or ties to keep it in place. How did the deatheater's wear it then?

Oh, duh, they're wizards, thought Harry, and casted a sticking charm on the mask. It stayed in place this time.

For a few seconds Harry tried to determine which direction he should run in before again berating himself again for not thinking like a wizard. He knew the woods were to the east of his house, so if he could figure out where north was he'd be fine.

"Point Me," He said, laying the wand flat on his palm. It spun around a few times before settling, pointing to his left. East then, must be behind him so he started walking in that direction.

Chaos greeted Harry as he snuck through the backyard of #4 Privet Drive. He was pressed tightly to the side of the house and glaced around to the front lawn to the sight of deatheaters torturing Mundungus Fletcher. They must have just gotten there, or else they'd already be inside the house.

"If you want the pain to stop, you'll go inside and fetch ickle hawwy for me," Ordered a sickly feminine voice. Harry recognized it as bellatrix Lestrange. "Tell him that the Order's come to pick him up, and bring him out here." There were three other deatheaters standing around Mundungus in a circle, underneath the tree in the front lawn, but he couldn't tell who they were.

"He's not inside! He's not inside, please no more!" Protested the sobbing and broken form of Fletcher.

Bellatrix brought her wand up. "Well then, pray tell, where is he?"

"I don't know, I prom-"

"That's not an acceptable answer," Bellatrix said coldly. "Crucio!"

"Animatus" Harry whispered pointing the wand he had taken from the deatheater at the tree. I hope this works

To Mundungus' fortune it did, and the great tree came alive, shaking itself free of the ground. A long tendril of a root shot up, wrapping around Bellatrix's leg, and pulling her to the ground; sending her curse veering off course. The deatheaters, with cries of incantations, immediately set up shield charms and sent curses in different directions. Fletcher dissaparated. The pop was barely audible over the sound of dangerous magic whizzing through the air.

Harry ran out into the lawn.

"I saw him, the boy's running that way!" he shouted pointing to the woods

"Amycus why aren't you in the forest?" shouted back the only deatheater not busy dealing with the vengeful shrubbery.

"That's not Amycus, he's too tall!" shouted Bellatrix, she had finally managed to cut herself free of the root. The tree however was still attacking them.

Upon hearing bellatrix's proclamation the deatheater shot a killing curse, and Harry instinctively summoned the mailbox in front of him. With a bang it exploded sending shards of hot metal Harry's way. Panicked, he quickly banished them back toward's the death eater whose screams rent the air as the metal pierced his flesh, and he crumpled to the ground. With a shriek of outrage, Bellatrix twisted her wand and the mask was ripped off Harry's face. He tried to grab for it but it was too late.

The dark witch cackled "It looks like the pups grown some teeth. Wanna see how the grownups play, boy?" She fired a curse at him and he threw himself to the ground. He was glad he had ducked, as the curse sailed over his head and lit the shrub behind him on fire.

Harry got quickly to his feet, the blood pounding in his head as the cackling, advancing, witch brought forth memories of his godfather falling through the veil. He'd kill the bitch, and do it slowly.

He saw one of the deatheaters left finally take down the tree with a quick succession of reductos, and then Bellatrix whisper something to the big deatheater standing beside her. He nodded, then turned and ran into the house. Time seemed to slow down as Harry looked up where Bellatrix had gestured and saw Dudley peering through his window on the second floor.

"Drop the wand, and come with us now Potter, or your cousin dies" She said, beckoning him forward with her wand.

"DUDLEY! NO!" Harry screamed beyond reason, and full of rage. He hadn't heard what Bellatrix said, had only seen the big deatheater run into the house, after Dudley.

His entrail expelling curse sent a surprised Bellatrix, her insides being flung out in a shower of gore, flying into the fence, which broke apart upon collision. He rushed past her through the doorway, which he just now noticed had been torn apart with what looked like claw marks.

He ran up the stairs, only to be grabbed by the deatheater who had destroyed the tree. The man roughly shoved Harry into the wall, twisting his wand arm behind him, and Harry threw his weight back, sending both of them toppling down the stairs.

Furious, Harry straddled the man, and drove his fist repeatedly into the deatheater's mask. The man let out a cry of pain as pieces of it pierced into his eyes, his face, and blood gushed out until unconsciousness took him.

Harry left him there and limped up the stairs, his ankle probably twisted or broken. Upon coming to his room, he saw this door was also destroyed and Dudley was on the ground, the deatheater standing over him with his wand.

Rage, the likes of which Harry had never felt, swallowed him and he shouted out "Depulso!"

The banishing charm whipped the man around and slammed him into the wall with a thud, and a crack. Harry rushed over to Dudley who was thankfully, still alive.

"Ha-ha- harry, who is that?" Dudley asked, terrified at the man who had walked in and thrown him to the ground with magic.

"Listen Dudley, we don't have any time," Harry helped his cousin to his feet. "Death eaters are here and you need to get out, you're defenseless without magic."

"How am I going to do that, and what about you?" Dudley asked, rubbing his head.

"I think there's only one or two left, I'm not sure if I killed the one downstairs" Dudley stared at him with wide eyes, "but, I can hold them off until my friends get here. Go to your room and grab both the trunks. Inside the one with my initials, will be a cloak. Put it on and it will make you invisible. Take both the trunks and find a hotel or something, I'll send Hedwig to you when she comes back, but it's not safe here. The protection's gone which means your mum must be dead. I'm sorry."

Dudley just stared at him with shock.

"Hurry Dudley!"

The boy finally complied. As soon as he reached the hallway Harry felt a curse send him sprawling to the ground and the wand he'd been using across the room.

The deatheater had gotten up. His mask had fallen off and his brutal face was twisted in anger. The cut on his head dripped blood into his blonde hair, tinging it pink.

"You'll pay for what you did boy,'' The deatheater spat vehemently. "This was just supposed to be an easy mission, but you've gone and botched it up haven't you? We'll now you'll have to suffer." He flicked his wand, and a curse shot out of it Harry. He rolled and it lit the floor and cupboard behind him on fire.

"That's it scuttle around on the floor like the little rat you are! Are you afraid Potter?"

Harry spotted something shiny. The dagger.

"It would seem that you would be the one who's afraid." Harry sneered "Coming in numbers to take down a schoolboy. How pathetic."

"You little bastard, I'll Kill you!" The deatheater raised his wand. Hary's fingers tightened around the hilt of the dagger.

"Avada-"

"Arghhh!" Harry charged the deatheater, shoving the dagger into his chest. The momentum pushed them both into the window, and Harry felt the force of the impact resonate through the deatheater and into his body, before the glass shattered into hundreds of little shards.

They tumbled out the window, and for a second Harry felt the unique sensation of weightlessness, and the empty air below them before they both vanished in a crack of smoke.