Alrighty, here's yet another chapter in the same day. It's only going so fast because 1) I'm all excited, and 2) I already had most of it written. But I'm going to camp tomorrow, so this is it for a little while. Thanks so much for your reviews! Glad you like it, enigma. It's so awesome... I got reviews from someone in Canada, someone in Germany, and someone in Britain, and I live in America. Isn't the internet amazing???

Harry's vision blurred. He worried it was coming from the blow he had taken to his head; he put his hand to his head and felt his hair getting a little shorter and more wiry. He touched his face and felt the slight dents of his scars coming back. He was turning back into himself.

"How are you doing that?" Petunia squeaked. She had hardly spoken at all yet.

"Polyjuice potion," Harry sighed, pulling his glasses out of a pocket and putting them back on. "It turns you into another person for an hour, and then wears off." He crossed the room to Ethan and Hermione, who were talking quietly, and made a conscious decision to ignore his relatives for a while.

"You okay?" he asked Ethan.

The boy nodded. "Cool house."

Harry smiled. "Right. I think you ought to get some sleep, Ethan... there's a spare room at the top of the stairs. You can't miss it. Go on." Ethan seemed about to protest. Harry gave him a little shove toward the door. "Don't worry, you're safe here. I'm going to handle all the other stuff. And sorry the house is this messy... I haven't been here for a while. Been at school, you know."

Ethan nodded, sniffed, and left the room. Harry could hear him gingerly walking up the creaky steps.

"Actually, I'll go up with him. He looked nervous," Hermione said. "He's worried about his parents."

"Yeah," Harry said, "since I'm not good at talking to people." He rolled his eyes as Hermione tried to protest. "I know. I'm not offended. Just go on."

Harry was left alone with his aunt and uncle. He continued to ignore them; he needed to think. There was silence in the room.

"Who were those people?" Vernon demanded after a pause. "What have they got to do with us? I still don't know what's happening. My house had better not be demolished when I get back."

Harry was becoming frustrated. Why couldn't Uncle Vernon just stop asking questions? Harry didn't relish the idea of spending a few days in his relatives' company any more than they did. He didn't want to listen to their stupid complaints and cater to their neuroses about anything and everything magical. But it would do no good to ignore his uncle now that he had asked him a direct question.

Harry crossed his arms. "What do you want to know?" he asked, with his back still to the Dursleys.

"Everything that concerns me," Vernon said stoutly. "I've been shoved into some sort of crazy farm here, against my will, and since it doesn't look as though I'm going to get out of it anytime soon, I believe I have a right to know any information I want!"

This was the first time in his life that Vernon Dursley had actually requested that Harry talk about the wizarding world. But Harry slowly realized, from his uncle's unusually calm tone, that he was actually scared. Vernon never seemed like the sort of person that you could take pity on; he wouldn't have allowed it. He was a very in-control man, back home at number four, Privet Drive. But here, everything was unusual and unknown to him, and he was actually genuinely scared of it.

Harry turned around. His aunt was sitting still and rigid, trying not to touch so much as a dust particle more than necessary, yet looking around, curious and wide eyed. Vernon looked like a deflated and sulky balloon.

Harry leaned against the wall again. "Voldemort is dead. I... killed him in my seventh year. Remember that?"

"Course I do," Vernon said gruffly. "Visited you in that oddball hospital." He didn't relish the memory.

"Voldemort's followers called themselves Death Eaters. Some of them joined him because he promised them power. Some were under the Imperius curse... he was controlling them. Others joined him out of fear.

"When Voldemort and I..." Harry's voice faltered. He hated talking about this, and he hated talking to the Dursleys. He forced himself to continue.

"When we fought... that last time, in May... well, it's complicated. I'm not going to tell you all the details. But when some of the Death Eaters realized that the odds were against Voldemort, they deserted him. They were traitors to Voldemort; they went into hiding, and eventually came back to our side and were pardoned in court. But most stuck by him, and were either killed in battle or taken to Azkaban.

"All the loyal Death Eaters stayed out of the way in Azkaban for four and a half years," Harry continued. "We didn't think they were a problem anymore. They were nothing without Voldemort.

"But we were wrong. The only thing they were hanging on to was the desire for revenge. It doesn't seem to make sense, but they were so deranged. They were hardened. Love and trust meant nothing to them anymore; they had known only the desire for power for so long. But after being in Azkaban, they knew that they couldn't get their power because Voldemort was dead. All they could think of was getting revenge on those that had stolen their power. So they broke out of Azkaban.

"I learned about the breakout one day after it happened. I was teaching-"

"You teach?" Vernon interrupted. "You teach at that place?"

"Yeah, Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry said, willing himself to be patient. "People seem to think it's my area of expertise.

"I was teaching the second year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. The headmaster came in, pulled me aside and told me that the Death Eaters were heading for Hogwarts. No one had managed to stop them. Because they can Apparate, there was no way of knowing how soon they'd arrive and enter the castle."

Seeing his uncle and aunt's dazed expressions, he said quickly, "Apparating is disappearing and reappearing immediately somewhere else. Most adults can do it; you have to get a license. Like driving. And it's not possible to Apparate or disapparate inside the Hogwarts castle.

"Dumbledore told me to get the students safely into their common rooms, but to keep that boy with me – Ethan Longbottom. His parents and his uncle had been fighting Voldemort all his life. His cousin Neville as well.

"The Death Eaters have a very bloodline-based mindset. It's hard to explain; it's a wizard thing – it has to do with wizarding families and pure magic blood and junk like that. But they were out to kill, not only those personally involved in the war, but their families as well. Ethan was in danger.

"So I tried to fly him here on a thestral. They're... some kind of animal, never mind. But it got shot down, and the closest place to go was your house. From there I could finish the potion in case I needed it, and get Ethan to safety with floo powder.

"The phone was Ron Weasley's idea. No wizards have telephones, but I do. It was the only method of communication that was completely safe."

There was a pause as the information sank in to the Dursleys.

"So they're still out there?"

"Some of them."

"It wasn't just Ethan, was it? You were in danger, too," Petunia said quietly. "Because you murdered V... whatever his name was."

Harry froze. He closed his eyes. He hated that word, that word that started with "m", that word that classified him with Peter Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort himself. That word that kept him awake at night. That word that had created a barrier between himself and most other innocent, happy people. That word that Dumbledore had told him did not describe him...you killed him because you had to, Harry...it was legal, he deserved to die...in killing him you saved the lives of hundreds of innocent people... you killed him because it needed to happen, nothing more...

no...no, I killed him because I hated him, Dumbledore...I'm a murderer...no...

(Weird, no? I told you I'm into this character psychoanalysis stuff. And I have a confession to make... I really don't know where this story is going; I'm making it up as I go. Feel free to write plot suggestions in your reviews, if you want to. I'M OFF TO CAMP!)