Chapter 3: Bumps and Bangs

As silence swept over privet drive like a raucous wind, Harry felt a joy like none other rise from his stomach. He would finally be going, and he couldn't wait. He sat up, put his glasses on, and checked the clock on his bedside stand. It was a little past 6 in the morning. Figuring he should have set his alarm, he grabbed his trunk and dragged it over to the foot of his bed. Once he made sure he had every scrap of food or clothing from his small bedroom, he began heaving it down the stairs, quietly, so that he wouldn't wake the Dursleys.

Opening the cupboard with a hairpin George had given him, he started to pull out his books and other belongings and began packing. Slowly but surely, he finished up, shoving everything deeper into the trunk to make it fit, snapping the lid on, and placing it by the front door. Upon entering the tiny kitchen an hour later, he sniffed at the sweet smell of the morning air, which carried a hint of lilac flowers. He turned towards the fridge, deciding he should eat something since the Dursleys were all still asleep, and opened it up to find it completely empty. He checked every nook and corner, but found nothing. A hunger pain rose up through his gut like a car revving up. Aunt Petunia always made sure that the fridge was full for her 'Dinky Diddydums,' and they had just gone shopping at the market yesterday. But now, for some reason, there was nothing there.

Harry slowly walked over to a kitchen cabinet with a frown on his face, being slightly confused, and thinking he might just have some dry cereal, pulled it open; nothing.

Moving from cabinet to cabinet, drawer to drawer, getting faster every second, he pulled every one open, each as empty as the last. Flinging his body across the room, he lunged up the stairs and barged into his cousin's room without so much as a knock or a good morning.

"Dudley, where's all the…"

But there was no one in the room. Dudley, who was usually extremely hard to hide, was no where to be seen. The bed was neatly made as though no one had slept in it for a thousand years, and Dudley never made his bed at all. He always let his room become completely filthy until Aunt Petunia would end up cleaning it for him.

As Harry scanned the room, he noticed that every one of his cousin's toys, TVs, video games, and electronics had also vanished.

Harry leaned against the wall for support, thinking, searching his already overcrowded mind, desperately, for some clue as to why this has happened. His stomach didn't help much, still growling at him with hunger.

"My room!" he yelled to the deserted hallway.

But as he entered his room, he came to find that everything was there, just as he had left it. But why?

"Uh!" he moaned, and he slouched onto his bed.

Hedwig wasn't back yet, so there was no way to contact anyone…. unless…

If he took his Firebolt and covered himself and his broomstick with the invisibility cloak, he wouldn't be doing anything illegal, would he? Last time he had thought this plan up, it involved carrying the trunk, but he had no need for it. That way, he could let someone know what happened without using magic, even though he didn't understand it himself. But what if the Dursleys or Hedwig came back? The Dursleys would be happy of course, but would blame the missing objects on him. Hedwig, on the other hand, would like him there to welcome her back, and could get hurt in some way being here in the deserted and creepy house.

"This is an emergency though!" he told himself quickly.

Looking around his room as though it would give him some idea of what to do, he chanced a look at his clock. 7:48. Mr. Weasley was going to be here in less than fifteen minutes; could he wait that long? One more problem, then, he would leave, Harry just hoped there wouldn't be another disturbance. Now he had a chance to sit down and think.

"Why?" He thought, over and over. He put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes until they hurt.

"Why does this always happen to me! One minute everything's fine, then everyone and everything is gone…"

But a knock on the window shattered his train of thought. It was Hedwig. Harry leapt over his bed towards her as she hopped onto his desk.

"Thank God." He mumbled to himself as Hedwig stuck out her leg gently.

Harry,

Don't leave the house, not under any circumstances. No time to explain what's going on. Don't be frightened. We're coming as soon as possible. DON'T LEAVE THE HOUSE.

Arthur

"Well, that's a fat lot of help" he said sarcastically.

Now he had to wait. There was no other choice. At least the Weasleys were still coming. He decided to sit back down, trying to calm himself from the shock.

Not even a few minutes went by before…

BANG.

A loud screeching noise rent the air, as something very large shattered glass below. Harry ran to the steps and toppled headfirst down them, banging his head and right arm on the banister as he rolled. Sitting up at the foot of the stairs, he rubbed his eyes as spots formed before them. He shook his head, trying to rid of the pain, and gasped at the sight in front of him.

A Jaguar was sitting in the middle of the Dursley's living room, having, somehow, just been driven through the front wall. There were brick remnants lying where clouds of dust began spreading throughout the room. Picture frames and paintings lay shattered or torn all around the car. A shadowy figure surrounded by the rubble, slowly stepped out, and so did 7 others, appearing out of various doors. Fearing for his safety, Harry ducked behind the flipped over sofa. Someone coughed in a tone that Harry recognized… but… how…?

"Harry?" said the familiar voice, shakily.

"R-Ron?" Harry said, just as cautiously, "What happened?"

"Um…

"How…Where did this car come from?"

"Well, you see," said Hermione, stepping out from the shadows. Um… I think Mr. Weasley should tell you." She said nervously.

"I'm sorry Harry, at least we can get rid of this mess before the muggles around here notice anything. I think I can fix this in a jiffy. Stand back, everyone." Mr. Weasley said, as he drew out his wand.

Doubting whether any of the muggles that had heard or seen the crash would forget it in a hurry, he stepped towards the hallway.

The other forms of people moved back towards the far wall.

Mr. Weasley moved to the far corner of the room to get the best aim for his spell, shouting, "Magora Reparo!"

It was like watching the wall being destroyed in rewind. Every brick, patch of dust, cement, picture frame, and drywall piece seemed to glue itself seamlessly back together. The couches turned upright and the paintings flew after them. The living room was no longer covered in dust or debris, and the only oddity was the fact that a car remained in the center of the room, leaving not much room for the coffee table.

The group back by the kitchen was now distinguishable.

Lupin was leaning slightly on the fireplace next to Moody, who was as alert as ever, his magical eye rolling around in its socket. Nearest them were Fred and George wearing what seemed to be the finest of dragon skins, who were watching the scene as though it was a favorite movie. Tonks, preoccupied, kept changing her eye color as she was looking in the mirror over the mantle, and Ron, Hermione, and Mr. Weasley stood by the new car (still sitting in the middle of the living room) with grins on their faces.

"Happy Birthday Harry," they said in unison.