Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but I OWN my older brother (in a sense that sometimes I can boss him around lol) and with his red hair, he looks an awful lot like Ron Weasley, so hey, it comes pretty close to the real thing! My sis is a redhead too and looks like Ginny...and the littlest one...? I like to call her, "Luna" lol. I'm the only blonde and my frizzy hair practically can conduct electricity. Hence, I have been dubbed "Hermione." (Though that would be an insult to poor Emma Watson.)

Chapter Three

Mrs. Weasley's mouth dropped open. Ron and Ginny gaped at him.

"Harry Potter?" Ginny squeaked. "I thought you were a muggle! I…wow. You're the real Harry Potter!"

"Huh?" Harry frowned. "Look, I think you got the wrong kid. I mean, there have to be hundreds of other Harry Potter kids, right? And I'm not a muggle thing." He tried reasoning with them, trying to figure out what was happening, but received no response other than the previous one. Silently he wondered if this meant he couldn't go with them now.

Out of nowhere, Ginny shivered. Ron started, too.

"W-why's it getting s-s-so cold?" Ron stuttered.

Harry realized that indeed, it was getting mercilessly cold…but in the middle of summer? One of the hottest summers he could remember? He shook violently. This was not a good cold, not the refreshing cold he daydreamed about while working in the backyard all day. This was a brutal, threatening cold.

"What's happening?" Ginny cried.

"The dementors!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "I have a portkey. Hold on, quickly," Mrs. Weasley instructed, her voice panicked and strained.

"What's a d-d-dement—?"

"Grab the shoe!" Mrs. Weasley cut him off.

Harry reached for it, having seen and heard too many weird things in the past ten minutes to ask any more questions. Then, suddenly, all three of the Weasleys disappeared. "Hey!" Harry gasped as they swirled away, knocking him backwards off his feet. When he fell, something crunched beneath him.

It was ice. The ground had iced over! But how could that possibly happen in the middle of August?

Harry jumped to his feet, bracing himself for whatever was coming. Ginny had said something about the dementors, too, when she'd mentioned a wizard prison in the forest. But surely someone would have known if there were really a prison, right? He'd disregarded her, thinking she was a silly little kid. Now he thought otherwise.

Just when he thought it was getting colder than he could possibly live through, something came out of the shadows.

It was floating towards him menacingly, a dark, willowy invader. He felt as if all of his body had literally stopped. The little optimism he'd managed to salvage, his little shred of hope that someday things would get better, was sucked by the force of this terrible creature. Screams echoed through his head.

He shrieked with them, his eyes rolling back into his head. But nothing could stop the burn of the image in front of him: the black monster, like a decaying skeleton wrapped in robes, looming…

He toppled over again, onto the newly formed ice. Just before he fell unconscious, he saw the cat again.

"Run," he tried to warn it.

Then, to his shock, the cat morphed. It wasn't a cat anymore—it was a human being! A woman, with a stick outstretched in her hand. She muttered a few words…A light flashed…and Harry remember nothing else.

………………………………………

Mrs. Weasley did a head check the second the portkey's whirring ended. There was Ron and Ginny—she sighed with relief to know they were safe at home again. She gave them another big hug, when the lump in her throat formed and her heart flipped.

"Harry," she whispered.

"Where's Harry?" Ginny demanded.

Ron turned rather pale. "He's…with the dementors," he nearly choked, shuddering.

"Why didn't the portkey take him?" Mrs. Weasley searched frantically around the kitchen, making sure that he wasn't there before resorting to full-out panic. There was nothing more torturous than leaving a small child behind. And the boy was defenseless…the poor thing had been denied the knowledge of his heritage, of who he was. Harry Potter didn't even know that his name was being spoken all around the wizard world every single day.

"Take who?" asked Mr. Weasley, after releasing his two younger children from a hug, relieved to see they were home. Percy had told him everything that had happened as soon as he arrived home from the ministry. Mr. Weasley dealt with the twins—they were in their room for the time being—then looked apprehensively at the clock. Mortal Peril, it had read. Thank goodness that they were home again.

"Hey Ginny, hey Ron," Percy greeted them, also looking a bit frazzled. He hugged them. "I'll go tell the twins and Bill that you're home. You had us all worried sick." (A/N—I'm assuming that even the evilestest of all people were nice to their lil sibs when they were little. So no bashing lol.)

"Oh, Arthur—you'll never believe it—we ran into Harry Potter!"

Her husband stared at her incredulously. "In the forest where Askaban prison is? That's not possible."

"But it is!" Mrs. Weasley cried, near eccentrics. "He's Ron's age—the poor boy was being abused, so he ran away…he knows nothing of wizards…thinks Lily and James died in a car crash! They've fed his mind with lies, and now he's virtually defenseless against the dementors!"

"The dementors?" Mr. Weasley's eyes widened. "They came near you guys?"

"They did," Ron answered solemnly, still pale in the face, "and it was so cold."

"Really, really cold," Ginny added. "Like I'd never be happy again."

"That's what dementors do," said Mr. Weasley. "They suck happiness."

"I have to go back! We can't let that little boy suffer at the hands of dementors. What if they…kiss him?"

"Harry Potter!" Percy yelped. "You're joking!" He ran upstairs, calling to Bill.

"You can't go back," said Mr. Weasley. "It's too dangerous. Let me go."

"No, Arthur, I can't let you. There's no telling what could happen to you there."

"So you'll risk your own life but you won't let me risk mine?"

Mrs. Weasley paced the kitchen for a moment. "We have to contact Albus. It's the only thing I can think of to do. School isn't in session right now…but he'll be at Hogwarts. I think he was the one that settled Harry's affairs once Lily and James died, don't you? Here, get the fire ready."

There was a loud snapping noise right in front of the younger two Weasley children. Ginny screamed, and Ron jumped up in fright.

Albus Dumbledore stood before them in dark blue robes. "No need to fret, Molly. The boy has been taken care of by Minerva. She's been tracking him occasionally—it was very lucky that we caught him running off while we did, or the dementors might've gotten him. Thank you for your help."

"We didn't help him," Ron piped, "he helped us. He found Ginny for me." The instant after Ron spoke, he blushed and stepped back, remembering who he was talking to.

Dumbledore gave him a friendly smile. "Number five and six, I suppose?" he asked, indicating Ron and Ginny behind him.

"Yes," said Arthur proudly.

"But where's Harry going to stay?"

Dumbledore regarded her with confusion. "With his aunt and uncle, of course. They are his only living relatives and legal guardians."

"But—they're cruel to him, Albus. You can't let him go back there. Minerva would agree—she'll have seen him, too. They treat him like a rag doll. He looks awful. No child should have to go through that," she pleaded with him.

Dumbledore's face fell. "I am aware of this. Minerva is also against returning him, but sadly, it's the only way. It's the only place he's safe from Voldemort."

Ron dropped the shoe—their portkey—on the ground. Molly and Arthur winced. Ginny shuddered, then picked up the shoe. They headed up the stairs, figuring it was now an adult discussion.

"But You-Know-Who was destroyed," Arthur contradicted. Then he hesitated when Dumbledore didn't correct himself. "Wasn't he?"

"We can't know that for sure," Dumbledore admitted. "There are…unfortunately…many ways to keep one's self alive. Horrible ways, but possible ways. I think there is a way that he could be brought back to power."

He cleared his throat. "The Dursley's, being his family, are the one link that can keep him safe for the time being. They may be as cruel as you describe, but it's keeping him alive for now. Promise me that you won't try to interfere."

Mrs. Weasley hesitated. Her muscles tensed; her passion was too intense. All too vividly she imagined her own children in the place of Harry Potter, sporting cuts and bruises and being forced to run away to survive. "O—okay," she finally said. "I won't."

TBC...

Will Mrs. Weasley keep her promise? What will happen when Harry returns to the Dursleys? Does anyone but me notice that both the names "Weasley" and "Dursley" both end with "-sley"? Okay, that was random, but a good question...someone oughta ask J.K. if that was intentional...hmmm I think I'm paranoid and overthinking things. But hey, that's life lol.