Author's Note: Takes place four years after chapter two.
Chapter Three: Out of the Ashes
"Mom, have you seen Scabbers?"
Molly looked up as Percy's voice floated through the house. A moment later, the son in question walked into the kitchen.
"Isn't he supposed to be in your room?" she asked, wryly, and Percy flushed, guiltily.
"He got out," he admitted. "I won't let it happen again, I promise."
"Good," Molly said. "And no, I haven't seen Scabbers. You might check the garden, though."
"Thanks, Mom," Percy said.
As he left the kitchen, in his own, sedate way, he was passed by the blurs that were Fred and George, who plunked themselves down at the table, winded from their impromptu race. A few seconds later, Ron ran in behind them, clearly disappointed to have lost.
"What have I told you about running in the house?" Molly scolded the boys, who looked completely unrepentant.
"We were just having fun!" Fred defended himself and his brothers.
"We didn't break anything, or hurt anyone," George continued.
"One of you go wake Ginny up," Molly sighed.
"I'll go!" Ron piped up, dashing back down the hall, toward his sister's room.
"Harry's coming back today, right?" George asked, helping his mother move breakfast to the table.
"Your father's gone to pick him up, right now," Molly answered.
Just then, Percy came back into the kitchen, a crestfallen look on his face.
"I can't find Scabbers, anywhere," he grumbled.
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Arthur pulled up to the Dursley's house, to be confronted with an amazing sight. Harry and his young cousin were huddled, fearfully, against the side of the house. A few feet away stood a short, scrawny wizard, grinning insanely as he menaced them with his wand. And standing between the groups was Petunia Dursley, brandishing a cooking skillet.
Even as the wizard made to move his wand, Petunia swung the heavy iron frying pan. She hit the wizard's hand with a sickening crunch of breaking bone, and his wand went flying. Arthur leapt out of the car, brandishing his own wand as the wizard jumped back, cradling his broken wrist gently to his body.
"You'll pay for that, Muggle!" the wizard screeched, lunging at Petunia.
Arthur swung his wand up to cast a defensive spell (and damn the consequences), but he never got the chance. Before he could get expelliarmous past his lips, a brilliant flash of light lit up the sky, and the wizard was thrown violently backward.
He got to his feet, intent on going after Petunia again, but the sight of Arthur bearing down on him quickly changed his mind. Even as Arthur was casting a spell, the wizard was twisting, shrinking, falling into the grass.
A few seconds later, a large gray rat peeked up at him out of the grass, before disappearing completely. Arthur spared a second to be amazed at the sight of the Animagus, before turning his attention to his son.
He ran towards Harry, who hiccupped out a sob and threw himself into his father's arms.
"Who was that?" Petunia demanded, fiercely, as they comforted their terrified children as best they could, given the circumstances.
"I don't know," Arthur replied, softly. "He looked familiar, but I can't say where I've seen him before."
"What was he after?" Petunia pressed, anxiously. "Will he come back?"
"I don't know," Arthur repeated, knowing how frustrating it was to have such a pat non-answer. "But I'll be contacting Dumbledore, immediately, and having him set up a guard around your house. If he does come back…"
His voice trailed off as he considered just how close he'd come to losing his son. The thought chilled him to his bones, and he squeezed Harry so suddenly that the boy squeaked in protest.
"That was a good job, Harry," Arthur said, encouragingly. "Protecting your aunt and cousinlike you did."
"I didn't do it, Dad," Harry said, eyes shining with earnest honesty. "Dudley did."
A/N: So, yeah, that was really short. And I'll try to be longer, next time. But, I'm hoping the content made up for the lack of length.