Disclaimer: JK's Lawyers have insisted that I actually do not own Harry Potter. Jury's still out on any of the Weasleys, but I'm not holding my breath.

Harry Potter and the Scepter of Fury

Chapter 2: The Vigilant Escape

Three hours later, Harry was silently longing to be back at Privet drive, if only because there was a comfortable bed there for him to sleep. Though he didn't have a watch, Harry knew that it was quite a bit past his usual bedtime. He closed his eyes for a second, imagining what it would be like to just lay down and go to sleep...

"Open your eyes, Potter... we have to be alert! Constant Vigilance!"

Harry grumbled under his breath. So far, in the last three hours, they had done more than he could ever recall doing in an entire day: they briskly walked five miles, ducked into four consecutive alleyways, dove aboard a bus, jumped out of it as it was moving eight blocks later, doubled back on themselves at least six times, and even waded across a creek underneath a bridge that spanned it - all while he carried his small trunk. Right now, they were waiting in yet another alleyway that peeked out across some unidentifiable suburban neighborhood from behind a smelly pile of full trash bags. The strangest thing was, despite the massive amount of effort they'd spent, Harry would be surprised if they were more than ten miles from his house.

"There it is," Moody whispered, pointing to the other side of the adjoining street. The appearance of intense zeal on Alastor's face was quite surreal, considering he was fervently focused on a rather unremarkable small oak tree.

Harry was past caring what exactly it was they were looking for, though, and was beginning to wonder if he should just set back off to see if the Dursleys would take him back. "Well, let's go," he said in a dull voice, hoping this whole ordeal would be sorted out soon.

"Not now!" Moody quietly barked, whipping around to focus his intense gaze upon Harry. "Potter, there is a car coming, and we can't be seen. There could be dark wizards patrolling looking for any sign of us."

Harry silently moaned, and collapsed back against the brick wall, wondering what kind of dark wizard would be driving a Mini through the suburbs on a Saturday night. In fact, if wizards could drive minis, it begged the question why Moody couldn't drive one so that they could've simply ridden here instead of bruising themselves up for three hours. They waited there for nearly fifteen minutes, Harry growing steadily more bored, exasperated, and tired. First, for a series of cars ("Dark wizards, possibly," Moody whispered assuredly), then for a couple walking leisurely with a baby carriage as they enjoyed the night air ("Still could be dark wizards, and we don't know that there's a baby in there..." Moody hissed, looking warily at the stroller), and finally for a squirrel ("It's been looking at us a bit too often to be normal... possibly an animagus..." Moody said in an undertone)

By now, Harry had come to two conclusions: Dark Wizards could apparently be anywhere at any time for any reason, and this man should never be allowed to use the word 'normal' in conversation again. At last, Moody finally allowed them to walk across the street, though by the silent whispers of "Walk more casually, Potter!" and "Keep your eyes open," it was probably the most guarded street crossing he'd ever performed.

Understandably, when they finally arrived at the tree, which seemed to be their final destination of the horrendous journey, Harry was expecting something extravagant - why else would they have gone through this much trouble? Perhaps mythical treasure of dragon's gold buried beneath it, a wizard staff that glowed with raw magical energy - even something as simple as a scroll of parchment that, according to all the fantasy games Dudley played on his computer, littered the magical world.

"An... empty can of beer," Harry said, looking down at the ground behind the tree. It was official; this man was completely insane.

"Pick it up!" Moody insisted. Clearly he felt that a discarded can was a worthy prize for their efforts.

While at first Harry felt everything that had happened so far was all part of an extravagant dream, he now felt that the simplest explanation was that the man was just simply not right in the head. Deciding to just humor the man, he reached down, but as soon as his hand clasped around the tin, he felt something pulling hard on his stomach.

He began to scream, and his knuckles around the can and the handle of his trunk tightened white as he closed his eyes.

Several seconds later, he realized he was still screaming with his eyes shut - but that whatever it was that had happened to him was apparently already over.

Harry stopped screaming and opened his eyes - and had to immediately clear them as he didn't believe what he saw. He was in the countryside... as if he was suddenly plopped in the middle of a quaint farm. Chickens clucked from some unseen location, and when he turned around, he saw lights turning on in the most unusual of houses. It looked like it was built a room at a time, each thrown together in the oddest layout - and it looked to Harry as though it shouldn't even be able to stand upright without tipping over.

"Oh dear," a kind voice said. Harry finally noticed a short, plump, red-haired, middle-aged woman smiling at him. "Didn't mean for you to wake the kids up."

"Er... sorry," Harry said.

"No, no, it's alright," the woman, brushing it off warmly. "I'm Molly Weasley - and I thought you'd be here a few hours ago. We'd be glad to let you stay wi..."

That was all the further she got before a veritable flood of red haired boys emerged slowly from the house, all wearing pajamas.

"Mum, who is it?"

"Ron, go back to bed!" Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips and turned her back to Harry so that she could address the children.

"Is it George McGruder?"

"If it is, whatever he's said is a lie!"

"We had no idea those capsules would do that, honestly Mum."

"Fred, George, get back inside," Molly said with a touch of heat. Harry couldn't help but smile at the woman's smoldering ire - and how the children didn't seem to pay any attention to it.

"Then who is it?"

"And why are they here so late?"

"That Is It!" Molly said, blowing up. "All of you, Get Inside Now, or you'll be cleaning out the attic all of tomorrow!"

That seemed to do the trick - the gang of children quickly scampered inside, though Harry could swear he could hear one of the say "Quite unreasonable, honestly!"

"Sorry about that, dear," Molly said as she turned around, back to her sweet voice. "Though it is pretty late, and I imagine you'd like to get straight to bed..."

Harry couldn't help but agree - he didn't know how much longer he could lug around his trunk - and followed the short woman into the peculiar house, immediately smiling. While this house would earn nothing but scorn from the Dursleys, Harry already loved it. Within seconds, he could feel that this place was a home more than 10 years at Privet drive. And then he felt a bit of a pang in his stomach, and wished that it wasn't just a home, but his home. He would've given everything in his trunk to be one of the red-haired kids that had come out earlier.

The feeling intensified when Molly showed him up the stairs and into one of the rooms, flaring into the slightest bit of jealousy at the red-haired kid around his age snoring away on the bed. He shook his head, and reminded himself that all of this was a dream. A detailed and rather odd dream, but just a dream. After he stowed his trunk in the corner of the room, Harry curled up on the pile of blankets laid on the floor as a makeshift mattress, and quickly fell to sleep.

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Please review

JeanieBeanie33:

Excellent! I've never read anything quite like it. And welcome back, by the way!

Thank you! It's good to be back.

Tofurkey:

Yay! Nicely done, Kevin. It was hilarious that Mad Eye Moody was the one to inform Harry of his magical abilities. Moody and the Durselys...hah. Moody's the best. I can't wait to see where you're going with this story. Don't you dare stop!

Lol – I don't plan on stopping. You know, after this chapter, I'm just going to have to bring Moody back at some point.