I've gotten 89 hits, and 1 review. Thank you to Cuthrin Khafre for taking the time to type out a response. It's not an ego thing that I want reviews, guys, I just want to know if it sucks or not. On with chapter 2.

He didn't know how long he lay there, next to his uncle's dead body, and the unconscious forms of his aunt and cousin, but after the black glow receded, and his thoughts were clear once more, he knew that he couldn't sit around and wait for hell to break loose. He slowly pried his eyes open, a sob wracking his body as he caught sight of the bloated body next to him. He scrambled to his feet, away from him, rubbing his eyes, trying to make the burning sensation caused by his own tears to cease.

He looked down at Petunia and Dudley, still exactly how he left them. Only now, Vernon's body was laying partially on top of Petunia. He couldn't just leave him like that.. No matter how much he hated Petunia, no one deserved to wake up with their husband's dead body on top of them. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. Now how was he supposed to move Vernon? He was impossible to move when he was alive, never mind swollen and dead. And he couldn't very well use magic, as the house was charmed... But then again, he just killed his uncle somehow...

Deciding it couldn't hurt to try, he stared at his uncle, and envisioned him lifting up into the air. "Locomotor," he whispered forcefully. All of a sudden, Vernon's body lifted up a few feet off of Petunia, and hovered there. Harry's jaw dropped. Perhaps after Dumbledore had died, the charm on the house had worn off. But if that was true.. Wouldn't that mean he'd been going unprotected ever since he came back from Hogwarts? Shaking the thought out of his head, he walked over to the cupboard under the stairs and opened the door. Vernon followed him, and coasted easily inside, settling on the spider-infested floor. Harry smirked at the irony of it and shut the door and locked it. He went back into the kitchen.

Looking down at his aunt, he put his hand up to her lips. A puff of air touched his hand. He glared down at her. "Obliviate." He moved over to Dudley, and did the same to him. He then walked over to the doorway, where there was a phone on the wall. He took a deep breath. He had to call some sort of authorities... Otherwise it would make him look even worse. Now... Aurors, or the police? Aurors might figure it out too quickly. But if he called the police, the aurors would have an even bigger mess to clean up, taking the heat off him for a while. And if he was questioned why he called muggle authorities, he could simply say he panicked. Most people would have, anyway.

"Remember, be frightened." he muttered to himself. He had to seem panicky if that was going to be his excuse, right? Taking a few seconds to work himself up, promising himself he'd get caught, that his friends would hate him, everything and anything to get his adrenaline going, he picked up the phone and punched in 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Oh my god, oh my god, I don't know what to do, he was here, and now he's gone, and now they're dead, they're all dead, I don't know what to do, oh god help me.."

"Sir? Sir, please calm down. Who's dead?"

"I don't know... They might be alive, I don't know, but my uncle, I don't know where he is, and there's groceries on the floor and blood everywhere, and they're not moving, and-"

"Okay, sir, tell me where you live."

"What? Oh, uh, four privet drive, but what am I going to do? They're my only family, my only family, I don't know where to go.."

"I've got several officers and an ambulance on its way. Now just calm down, you're going to be alright. What is your name? And who is hurt?"

"Me? I-I'm Harry Potter, I live with my aunt and uncle... But my aunt, and my cousin, they're just laying there.. And my uncle's gone, I don't know where he is, but his things are all here, when'll they get here?"

"In about ten minutes. Are you hurt?"

"No, no, I was out for a walk... I came back and I saw him coming out of my house, and then he was just gone, and I came in, and the blood, oh god the blood,"

"Describe him to me, if you can, Mr. Potter."

"He's the fucking lord of death, you can't describe him, he's just there!"

"Are you familiar with him?"

"Listen lady, Voldemort's been trying to kill me ever since I was a baby, I'm pretty fucking familiar with him by now, alright? And he was here. I was supposed to be safe here, and he got in. No where is safe, no where... My god, what am I going to do..."

"Well, the ambulances will be there shortly, everything will be fine. You'll stay overnight with us so that he doesn't come back, and we'll protect you, okay? We'll keep you safe."

"No you won't. He'll kill you too. I can't be responsible for that, I can't, I can't anymore.. Merlin, I'm going to be sick, forget this.."

With that, he dropped the phone so that it hung off the receiver and walked away. Perfect. He walked outside quickly, not bothering to shut the front door. He looked up, nearly laughing out loud when he saw that his broom was still exactly where he left it, hovering a few feet away from his window.

"Accio Firebolt."

The broom zoomed down to him, parking itself a couple inches from his knees. He untied his trunk from it, and tucked the rope into his pocket. Opening the lid, he withdrew his wand, and quickly shrunk the trunk and tucked it into his pocket. Straddling his broom as sirens assaulted his ears, he zoomed off into the night sky seconds before the police pulled up to his house.

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Two days had passed after his incident when Hedwig returned to him. He was deep in the forest, sitting under a large oak tree, staring at the serene pond in front of him. Hedwig swooped low upon spotting him, landed on his shoulder and nipped at his earlobe.

He gave a start, jolted out of his daze, but calmed quickly after seeing that Hedwig was alone.

"What have you got there?" he asked, as she dropped to the ground next to him and held out a leg, a scroll tied to it. He untied it from her, and pet her for a moment before opening it. It was from Hermione, which wasn't surprising, but the contents of the letter were. He'd expected to get admonished, scolded, perhaps even receive a Howler. But that wasn't the case. In a very un-Hermione like fashion, the letter had consisted of three words. "Where are you?" Attached was a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Across the top of the paper, headlines screamed "The Chosen One missing!" "Family of Harry Potter Attacked! Muggle Relative Slaughtered!" "Wizarding World in Chaos!" There was a long, in depth article about what speculations were as to what could have happened, to where he was, and why he was in hiding. Some even thought he was dead. He turned the page, mildly interested as to what others thought, when another headline caught his eye. "Boy-Who-Lived's Frantic 'phone call' to Muggle Authorities!"

With a hiss of disgust, he threw it on the ground, and glared at it as if it might jump up and attack him out of spite. Hedwig hooted softly.

Harry sighed, sitting back down. "I don't want to go back.. I can't... Forgive myself." Hedwig flew up and landed on his head, plucking at his hair. Harry ignored it, eyes lowered. "What if they figure it out? That I'm a murderer? I'll loose everything."

Hedwig made a sharp sound and tugged at his hair harder. He yelped, pulling the bird off his head. She bit his finger. "Ow! Hedwig, stop that!" he said sternly, pulling away from her. She hopped back over to him and nipped his arm. He waved her away, and she flew up into the tree behind him, perching on the lowest branch, a few feet above his head.

"What if I blow up again, and hurt someone important to me? Hurt Ron, or Hermione, or Ginny?" He asked, head tilted backwards to look up at her. Hedwig ruffled her feathers huffily.

After several long moments deep in thought, he spoke once again. "But... I won't be around for long. Maybe I should spend the last few months with them?"

Hedwig jumped down from the branch and landed on his shoulder and nibbled his ear affectionately. He couldn't help the laugh that rolled from him. "You wanted me to say that all along, didn't you?"

With a hoot, she flew over to his open trunk and perched on it. He smiled. "Alright, alright, I'm coming." He stood up and went over to her, stroking her feathers thoughtfully. "I think it's strange that you're the only I can trust, and you're an owl." he mused. Picking her up and moving her to his shoulder, he shut his trunk and shrunk it, tucking it into his pocket as he had two nights before. He grabbed his broom in his left hand, his right hand resting on Hedwig's back. "Do you want a ride, or do you want to fly?" he asked. In response, Hedwig took off into the night, already guessing his destination.

With a snicker, he mounted his Firebolt and followed the shrinking speck of grey in the sky, the cool night air whipping past his face as he flew towards the only home he had ever known.

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