Here's chapter two. Thanks for your reviews, guys! It's amazing; I posted the thing at ten in the evening and by nine in the morning there were three reviews! It made my day. I fixed that paragraphs thing. Ok, enjoy!
"We've got to go," Harry said breathlessly, jamming the phone back on the cradle. "No time. They're on our trail. They know where we are. Ethan, here!" He handed another small pouch to Ethan. "Listen. 'Number 12, Grimmauld Place'. And speak clearly!" Ethan hesitated, his mouth hanging open. "Forget the Muggles!" Harry hissed. "I'll deal with it! Just go!" He dragged the boy out of the kitchen, robes billowing. Vernon followed. Petunia and the Masons stared open-mouthed.
"Who are 'they'? What have you done?" Vernon bellowed, spit flying from his mouth.
Before Harry could answer, there was a loud crack. A woman wearing a thick sweater and slacks appeared in the middle of the living room, causing Mrs. Mason to shriek. Hermione ran to Harry.
"What on earth are you waiting for? Go!" she yelled, panicked.
Ethan seemed to catch on to the urgency of the situation, and, in a moment of rationality, ran to the fireplace. Throwing a handful of powder from the pouch into the fire, he said shakily, "Number twelve Grimmauld Place," and stepped into the roaring flames. He was gone.
Mrs. Mason fainted.
Harry, ignoring Vernon's spluttering and the muscle ticking in his cheek, uncorked the potion and downed it in one swallow. He doubled over, groaning, and clutched the back of a chair for support. He breathed heavily as Vernon turned to Mr. Mason and stuttered, "Er, just my nephew... don't really know what's... he's always been odd... er..." His voice trailed away.
Hermione, calmer now, knocked over a couple of chairs and pointed a thin wooden rod at the kitchen door, causing it to hang crookedly off its hinges. She wrinkled the rug, too – creating convincing signs of a struggle.
Petunia and Vernon watched, horrified, as their nephew's hair suddenly shifted from grey-streaked black to white-blond. He seemed to grow a little taller, his hands thinner; and when he straightened up, they could see a sharper jaw, fairer skin and hard, grey eyes. His scars were gone. He took off his glasses, hid them in his robe, and smiled cockily at Hermione.
"Say hi to Ron," he said. "I'll knock the phone off the hook if I need you."
Hermione grinned weakly and, after an anxious "don't get yourself killed," disapparated.
Six loud bangs came suddenly out of nowhere, and half a dozen figures appeared in the Dursleys' house. They were ragged, appearing as though they had not seen the sun or society in years. Their eyes were hungry. The woman and five men held their wands out, weaponlike, as they looked accusingly around the room, sneering at the Muggles seated or standing in rigid fear below them. They took in the toppled chairs and a bit of soot scraped onto the floor from the hearth. One man with long white-blond hair, proud-looking despite his condition, stepped forward, looking intensely at Harry.
"Draco."
Harry looked back at the man. There was a pause. Then the two of them moved closer and embraced, like two friends long separated.
"Why are you here?" the man demanded in a raspy, but not unkind voice, pulling away. "How did you get here? Where is Potter?"
"I tracked him here," said Harry Potter. "I tried to... eliminate him. But he disapparated. I don't know where he is now."
"And the boy? Was the boy with him?"
"Went through the floo network. Knockturn Alley. Pansy followed him."
"Knockturn Alley?" the man asked, an evil glint in his eye. "Fool. Enough there are on our side. He won't get far. He went alone..." the man coughed. "He wouldn't go to Knockturn Alley," he said after a pause.
"He was panicked. He probably shouted the first thing that came to mind." Harry saw the rest of the violent group looking at the Dursleys and Masons.
"Kill the muggles," a skinny, starved-looking dark-haired wizard with a beard said suddenly. "Kill the muggles, Malfoy. They've seen too much. They could be spies."
"No need," Harry said languidly. "I've taken care of them. They'll be telling no stories."
This really was believable; the four were in such shock that none of them looked capable of speaking coherently; or moving, for that matter.
Malfoy looked intensely at the man he thought was his son.
"I don't trust him, Malfoy!" shrieked the woman. "It's not Draco! Kill him!" The rest of the group raised their wands. Harry pulled out his wand, his experience alerting him to imminent danger.
"Potter!" snarled Malfoy. His eyes were popping.
The room seemed to explode. Harry ducked and slid onto the floor as curses shrieked by the escaped Death Eaters ricocheted off the walls behind him. He raised his wand. "OBLIVIATE!" One wizard dropped to the ground, senseless.
"We'll have our revenge, Potter!" screamed Lucius Malfoy. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Harry twisted to the side as a patch of the rug next to him crumbled into dust.
"Petrificus Totalus!" The witch fell over, frozen stiff as a board.
"Avada - " Malfoy's curse was cut off as Harry kicked his leg out from under him. Malfoy crumpled.
A searing pain hit Harry's arm. He yelled. Scrambling to his feet, he disarmed the wizard bearing down on him and tackled him. They fell over and rolled on the ground, the wizard's hands around Harry's neck. Petunia Dursley had cowered into a corner; Vernon had pressed himself against the wall as though he wanted to disappear into it. He lacked the presence of mind to move toward the door. An expression of fear was frozen on his face.
Harry managed to knock the skull of the man fighting him against the wall. He passed out and Harry only had time to dodge backward across the floor before a potentially damaging curse hit the floor an inch away from his waist. He knew he couldn't hold them alone. Phone... Where is the phone?
Something collided painfully with the back of Harry's head. Stars winked before his eyes and for a few long, blurred seconds, there was total silence. Harry's vision slid in and out of focus and he fell to the floor. He was dimly aware of harsh voices...
A crash jerked Harry back to his senses. Blinking, he staggered to his feet, thankful that he had not let go of his wand. Lucius Malfoy lay senseless, draped over the arm of the couch; one of the two remaining wizards was grappling with Uncle Vernon in the corner. Petunia shrieked repeatedly. A small chair lay in splinters on the floor, having been cracked over Malfoy's head. By whom?
"Obliviate!" Harry yelled. He missed; the second wizard with shaggy grey hair lunged at him. Harry ducked, knocking his shoulder on the kitchen doorframe.
Kitchen.
Phone.
Harry forced himself to think rationally. He lunged forward onto the tile- patterned floor and made a wild grab at the phone cord as it dangled by the wall. He felt his hand close around it. He gave a mighty jerk as the Death Eater burst in through the crooked door. The telephone receiver clattered onto the linoleum; Harry could hear the dial tone resolutely buzzing from the contraption. The old grey-haired man raised his wand. Harry couldn't get up; he was frozen in irrational fear and his hip was hurting badly. The man screamed a curse; Harry twisted away, squeezing against a cabinet. A purple jet of light sliced into his side... Harry gasped for air...
Three cracks in the other room sounded. Vernon watched as the bushy-haired woman and two others appeared. He could only hope they were on the good side... or whichever side would let him live.
One of the men, a tall redhead, looked around wildly and limped quickly into the kitchen as Hermione and George Weasley grabbed the wizard away from Vernon. A quick curse from Hermione and a punch (for good measure) from the stocky redhead left the man unconscious on the floor.
Ronald Weasley tackled the old wizard from behind as he bent over Harry to finish him off. His attention diverted, the Death Eater turned to throttle Ron, giving Harry the chance to sit up, aim his wand –
"Obliviate!" The wizard crumpled. There was silence.
"Harry!" Ron said, relieved. He limped a few steps and helped his friend up. "Blimey... you look like Malfoy. I almost want to slug you. You all right?" Harry nodded. His side hurt, but it would heal. Nothing worse than he could handle.
"'Mione! You shouldn't have come... You all right? " Ron demanded. Hermione, looking a little tired and frazzled but relieved, nodded as well.
"You're not going to ask me?" George charged Ronald with false anger. "I'm offended. See if I ever talk to you again, little bro..."
Harry smiled at George. "Haven't seen you in ages. Nice to, though."
Hermione surveyed the damage; the six unconscious bodies littering the floor. "We'd better tidy this. And..." she gestured quizzically at Vernon, who was standing stiffly, his face an unpleasant shade of magenta, fists clenched, eyes staring. Petunia and Mr. Mason sat rigid against the wall. Mrs. Mason was still in a dead faint.
"Right," said Harry. He waved his wand as he thought, returning the smashed chair to one piece. "We can't leave them here," he said at last. There are more Death Eaters. They'll come here after the others. We were careless; we let them find us... I was careless."
"Harry, don't beat yourself -"
"I can't just leave them," Harry said, seeming to ignore Ron's rebuke. "I'll get the others back to their house... they won't be bothered... I'll work a memory charm..."
"And your aunt and uncle?"
Harry sighed. He seemed to be resigning himself to the worst fate possible. "My house," he said at last. "Just for now. It's safe."