Oh, yeah, my first story. I wonder how this is going to turn out. I've never written anything for Harry Potter on this site, so I hope that it's at least halfway decent. Here we go.

Disclaimer: I own no one from the Harry Potter books. They are creations of J.K.Rowling's wonderful mind.

Okay, this takes place after the fourth book ends. It might have some of the beginning of the fifth book in it in the future, I don't know. I'm just playing this one by ear. Let me know what you think about this, all right?

A Tragic Meeting

Dark hair billowed in the night wind. A pale face hid in the shadows of one of the many well-kept house of Privet Drive. Fierce eyes scanned the roads, finally settling on their target: A young man walking alone. He walked down the street, up to a porch, and went into the warm glow of one of the houses.

"Harry Potter," a voice hissed, "we will meet soon enough." And with that, the figure disappeared with the swishing of a black traveling cloak.

Inside the house of number four Privet Drive, Harry Potter ran quickly to his room to avoid conflict with his relatives. That was the last thing he needed at this point in time. His friends weren't talking to him, he was isolated here, and all summer, since he set foot off the Hogwarts Express, he'd had the strangest feeling that someone was following him.

Hedwig hooted in greeting from her perch on Harry's bed. Another night and she'd come home with no reply from Hermione, Ron, Sirius, anyone! It was as if he'd just dropped out of existance, or they had. He was beginning to wonder if he had dreamt the last four years of his life, if Hogwarts was real, if he really did have friends, if he would wake up soon, staring at the ceiling of that cupboard only to face another day of meaningless exsistance in the house of the Dursleys.

"No, that's not true, is it," he said quietly, stroking Hedwig's head. "I didn't dream it all. You're still here, Hedwig. At least I have someone I can count on."

A great thundering noise turned Harry's attention to the door. He already knew that it was Dudley running up the stairs, but what had the large boy in such a hurry? The door to Harry's room flung open and in ran Dudley, hiding under the desk.

"What do you think you're doing," Harry demanded, rising to his feet. Downstairs, there were sounds of scuffling and things being broken. A loud, shrill scream echoed through the house, then there was silence.

"They're coming," Dudley sobbed. His great face was covered with tears and contorted with fright.

"Who's coming," Harry asked. Dudley did not answer. "Who's coming," demanded Harry, in a louder voice.

"They're up there," shouted someone from downstairs.

Suddenly, the noise picked up again and there were many feet running up the stairs. Harry ran to the door, slammed it closed, and held himself in front of it in hopes of keeping whoever that was coming out of his room.

He yelled at Dudley, "Help me! Get off your lazy backside and help me!"

Together, the two boys pushed the huge wardrobe in front of the door, blocking it just as the angry intruders outside reached it and started beating against the wooden door like mad. For a while, the beating continued until all was silent. This worried Harry more than the beating had.

Dudley had taken shelter behind Harry, not that it did much good with Harry being as thin as a rail and Dudley being as huge as a baby killer whale. Hedwig flew out the window and perched on a tree outside.

The door blew up. Splintered wood of the what used to be the door and the wardrobe flew everywhere as Harry dove under the bed and Dudley tried to follow.

Twelve Death Eaters entered the room. Dudley, being the first one in sight, was tugged out from under the bed and held before what appeared to be their leader.

"Where's Harry Potter," a cold voice snarled from under the mask of a Death Eater. Harry immedatily reconized the voice as belonging to Lucius Malfoy.

Dudley, who was too frightened and grief-stricken, stuttered, "I-I-I- He-He- Har- Har-"

"Enough," shouted another Death Eater. "Just kill him and then we shall blow up the whole house to flush the Potter boy out!"

"Excelent plan." And with that, Malfoy whipped out his wand. "Now you're going to be with your parents, you fat Muggle pig! Avada Kedavra!!"

Green light illuminated the room and Dudley fell to the ground with a dull thud. From his hiding place under the bed, Harry had a perfect view of Dudley's face: it was frozen in a silent scream, tear-streaks still covering his large cheeks, his eyes glossed over and dead. It was Cedric all over again. Harry could barely keep himself from screaming.

"Now to find Potter," Malfoy said.

Harry shot out from under his bed, grabbed his wand from his trunk and stood at the ready before them.

"I'm right here," he said, his voice shaking in anger.

"Oh, good," drawled Malfoy's voice from under his mask. "That saves us the trouble of looking for you. You surely don't think of dueling us, do you, Potter?"

"Every last one of you," said Harry in a dangerously quiet voice. "You just killed three innocent people. Why?"

"They were Muggles, Potter." Malfoy's voice was now a disgusted sneer. "They were not even good enough to wipe the dirt from our shoes. Put down your wand, Potter, and we'll kill you quickly."

"You'll die first, you mangy bas--"

Harry was cut short as the floor below the Death Eaters was blown away. They all went flying down into the room below them. Standing there, facing them, was a figure cloaked in blackness, the only thing visible was one white hand which was clutching a wand, pointed at the Death Eaters.

"All right up there, Harry," called a voice. It sounded vaguley familiar to Harry, as if from a long-forgotten dream.

"Uh, yeah," he said.

"Good. I'll take care of these bumbling fools and be right with you."

The hand holding the wand flicked and the Death Eaters disappeared in the midst of black and blue flames. Twice more it flicked. The ashy remains of the Death Eaters vanished and all of the lights in the house extinguished.

"Jump," the voice comanded. The figure in black wasn't looking up at Harry, but towards the open front door, as if expecting more challengers to come through it at any moment.

"What?!"

"Jump now, or I'll blow the rest of that out from underneath you. You make the choice. Don't worry, I'll catch you."

Harry gulped then did as the voice commanded. Inches before he hit the ground, he was caught by. . .well, he could see nothing beneath him, but something was holding him up. He sat his feet on the ground and found himself standing upright. The cloaked figure, shorter than he was, was standing near him, it's face turned away.

"We're leaving. Don't worry about your things. They're on their way."

There was a clattering noise from Harry's room. Looking up, he saw all of his belongings fly into his trunk. The trunk then slammed closed, flew through the hole in the floor, and out the front door into the darkness. Hedwig was stuffed into her cage by an invisible force and was soon following close behind the trunk.

"But what about. . ." Harry's voice trailed off as he saw Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both lying on the kitchen floor. Their faces were frozen in the same look as Dudley's. Unconsciously, he started towards them.

A strong hand clamped down on his arm, holding him in place. When he turned around, he found that the hand belonged to the cloaked figure. It's hooded face was now turned towards him. The moonlight pouring in through a cracked window showered the figure in an unearthly light, making the hand seem to be stark white. Some of the face was revealed. It's features were finely drawn and smooth. Red lips were exposed, set into a hard line. The light stopped just short of the figure's eyes.

"I said that we are leaving. Come willingly or I shall force you. Either way is fine with me, Master Potter," said the figure, white teeth shinning in the moonlight.

The hand stayed on his arm as the figure guided him out of the house. They stopped just outside the front door and the figure crouched down, drew their wand, muttered something, then watched as hot, orange, out of control fire spread up the house, engulfing it in flames.

"What are you doing?!" Harry demanded.

"When the Muggle police arrive and find your relatives, they will assume that they died from a fire started by the oven. Simple as that. Now, no lagging behind lest they should find us. Come."

The figure gave a sharp pull on Harry's arm and he was lead into the darkness, still watching the flaming house over his shoulder. The Dursleys were dead. . . What now? Where would he go now? Sure, he'd wanted to get away, but he never wanted it to be like this. . .

To Be Continued...
Okay, so, that's it. What did you think? Please be brutally honest! I need all the help I can get here. I know I'll never be as great as J.K. Rowling (who could ever be that great?!) but I can get close. All I need to know is what I need to improve on. Review, please. You can flame me if you want, that's all right. Whatever floats your boat. But if you're going to do that, do it for a reason, all right? And please leave your email address so that we can talk about it. Toodles, everyone!