Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Either Harry Potter or The Marvel Cinematic Universe

Excuse Me, I Don't Suppose You Know How To Time Travel

Chapter Five: Mother Mother, I Can Feel Your Heartbreak

1993: Hogwarts School, Scotland

A restless sleep followed Lupin's confirmation of Harry's parentage, thoughts plaguing him as he lay in his bed in Gryffindor dormitory. Whenever it seemed that the night might claim him, thoughts reawakened him; of his father, who's remains rested on the bottom of the ocean, of his mother, who with every passing day might be closer to joining his father, and the ploy which had kept him from her in the first place.

Despite his hope that the truth would put his mind at rest, it had only proved to do the opposite, leaving him instead with questions that there were no real answers to. Lily and Lupin, when they had taken him from the people who had held him for almost forty years, might have spared him a fate in which he never knew any kindness. But they had counted on that, on his being a monster, and yet still kept him when they discovered the baby instead. If not for the actions of Lily and Lupin, if they instead had returned him to his mother, he would have grown knowing the feeling of a mother's comfort, but instead, throughout his childhood he had grown familiar with the feelings of hunger clawing his stomach and hands snapping against his face.

Ron and Hermione had both been horrified to hear the reason why he hadn't been returned to Peggy Carter, and though Lupin had agreed to help him reach her, they had seemed equally surprised to discover that he planned to travel to her the following day. The two's shocked protests had eventually ceased though, as they seemed to realise how desperate he was to meet with his mum.

"How are you going to convince her?" Ron had asked, and despite his earlier dismissal of the question, now, the words quickly joined the calamity which was his within mind.

The easiest answer to the question-, and perhaps the hardest, was that he didn't know. Despite the trouble that they had gone through to find proof for themselves that his mother was indeed Peggy Carter, the three friends had little evidence to present to the woman. And though Hermione had half-heartedly suggested continuing the search, it was one which she must have known it was one that Harry wasn't going to consider.

His only offer to give to Peggy Carter was the simple truth.

His only hope was that, somehow, it would be enough to convince her.

When he woke, the windows were covered in frost and the air crisp with cold. He dressed quickly, taking note of Ron's empty bed, as he began to empty his backpack of the books on his family, and instead placing it the necessary items for the journey. He hesitated for a second before grabbing the plastic soldier from his bedside table, clasping it in his hand. He spared one last glance at the room, before descending the stairs towards the common room.

Both Ron and Hermione were waiting for him besides the fire, their faces both equally anxious as they saw him approach. Before Harry could begin to speak, to reassure them though, Hermione threw her hands around him, pulling the boy into her embrace.

"Harry, you have to promise be careful," Hermione said, as she released him.

"Of course I will be He-"

"No, Harry, I mean it. The people who kidnapped you, there's every chance they might be watching her house, in case you try to meet her."

The thought of HYDRA watching his mum had not occurred to him, and now, it made him frown.

"I'll keep an eye out, Hermione," he offered, "And even if they are, they won't be expecting me to have magic, will they? I'll be fine."

Hermione nodded reluctantly in return, though some of the apprehension that had been on both of his friend's faces had ceased slightly.

"You must be pretty excited, then?" Ron eventually asked. Harry grinned in reply, rolling the plastic soldier between his fingers.

"That's definitely one word for it, yeah."

"And you'll be back tonight?" Hermione questioned, her voice doubtful.

"I'll be back tonight Hermione," Harry reassured his friend. "I'm going to explain everything, I mean everything, to her. Hopefully, if she believes me, Lupin's going to explain everything to Dumbledore. He's going to try and convince him to let me stay with her on the weekends, and over the holidays."

The words, 'It's the least he could do after keeping me from her for the last twelve years' were left unsaid, but his two friends clearly understood what he had almost said. Lupin, despite all that he had done against Harry, leaving him to suffer at needlessly at the hands of the Dursleys, at least he seemed to be doing his best to make up for it.

"You could tell him now though, Harry. He could go with you to tell her, and surely no one would be able to get to you with the Headmaster being there."

Something akin to both guilt and embarrassment showed on Harry's face, as he once again tossed the soldier between his fingers.

"I just, Hermione, I really want to do this myself. We've got this far, and I just want to be able to meet her without..."

He trailed off, the words sticking in the air though both doubt and understanding painted his friend's faced.

Finally, Ron offered the words which spurred Harry forwards. "Best of luck then, mate."

Besides him, Hermione too offered him luck, and Harry grinned at the two as he removed his glamours. He began to walk to the exit, but turned at the last minute to give his two friends a last reassuring smile.

"Well, see you two later then!"

Lupin was waiting for him in the entrance hall, his face appearing almost relieved as Harry appeared, before shifting to something which was much more unreadable. The two remained silent as the doors swung open, and the two began to walk the path towards Hogsmeade. Occasionally, Harry thought he saw a dark shape in the distance, perhaps a dementor, but it never came any closer.

"Don't worry, Harry," Lupin eventually said, as he saw the boy jump again at the distant figure, "They know I'm a professor. They won't come any closer while I'm with you."

Harry couldn't find it within himself to offer the man any form of thanks and instead turned his gaze towards the ground, pretending he didn't see the way that Lupin's face twisted as if he were in physical pain.

It was shortly after they had exited through the Hogwarts gates that Lupin came to a stop beside the side of the road, pulling his wand from his pocket.

"What are we doing?" Harry asked, hastily muttering, 'Sir.'

The man's gaze turned to him from where he had been watching the road.

"I was under the impression that you didn't want me to join you."

"No, not really," Harry said, privately thinking, not at all.

"Well then," the man continued, a sad smile on his face. "I suggest you get off the road."

Barely seconds after the professor had uttered the words, the man was pulling him out of the way of large, speeding, purple bus, the words 'The Knight Bus' inscribed with gold along it's side. Before Harry could ask what in Merlin's name was going on though, a man in a purple suit jumped from the bus.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus. My name's Stan Shunpike, and I'll be your conductor today. Two tickets, I assum'?"

"No, just the one today," Lupin said, "The boy's mother's quite sick. She lives near Winchester."

Stan Shunpike nodded in reply, switching his gaze to Harry and offering him what was probably meant to be a comforting smile. "And where in Winchester would 'at be?"

Harry hesitated, he knew the vague area of which his mother lived, but of the address, he had no idea. Before he had the opportunity to offer what he knew though, Remus was speaking again, telling the conductor an address.

"That'll be 18 sickles, then," Stan said, prompting Harry to began rummaging through his bag. Quickly though, he felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced towards Lupin, who was shaking his head at him as he passed the conductor the money.

"I have money," he protested, even as Stan began to count it.

"Harry, please," Lupin pleaded, "Just let me do this."

He turned to face the man, and for the first time since discovering the truth, he felt stirrings of pity for the man besides him. From what he could understand, Lupin had lost all his friends the night the Potters had died, protecting a child that wasn't even their own. As strange as it was, in a way, Harry was the only thing they had left in the world. Eventually, Harry nodded and took his step onto the bus.

"Best be going then, Harry," Lupin said, as he took a step back away from the bus. "I wish you and your mum luck, then. I'll be seeing you tonight."

The bus began to move again before Harry even had the chance to sit down.

1993: Winchester, England

As the bus sped along, Harry quickly became unsure if he felt sick due to the movement of the bus itself, or if it was the impending meeting with his mother. Finally, it seemed, Shunpike was approaching him, a grin appearing on his face as he took in nausea on Harry's.

"You'll be getting off at the next stop 'en," the conductor said, prompting Harry to stand, bracing himself against the chair, as the bus began to slow.

They had stopped in front a small house, with a well-pruned garden. Harry froze, images of a life that could have been flitting through his head.

"Aren't you gettin' of 'en?" Shunpike asked, nodding again at the house.

"Yes, yes, of course," Harry stuttered, abruptly thrown from his thoughts as he began walking towards the exit of his bus. He stumbled, almost landing upon an elderly witch who glared at him, ignoring his words of, 'Sorry-, sorry."

As soon as his feet were on the ground, the bus was gone again, leaving Harry in an empty street. He glanced at the house again, before turning his gaze to the other houses that dotted the road. They were few of them, and all varying in size and colours. Basically, everything that Privet Drive was not.

Hopefully, he thought, as he glanced at the other houses, hoping for something familiar to appear, the Knight Bus had dropped him directly at the right house, and not just the street. He began to walk up the path towards the house, offering a polite smile at one of the neighbours who was watching him from behind their curtains. The man returned it, before closing the curtains and disappearing from view.

Upon reaching the front door, he paused for several seconds, trying to regain the control of his breath, which he had been struggling with since he had first stepped on the Knight Bus. Eventually, cautiously, Harry raised his hand, knocking upon the door.

Perhaps she wasn't home, Harry wondered, as no noise was made in reply. Or maybe, she was sleeping in, as the house remained silent. It was still quite early in the morning, after all, and Peggy Carter was not as young as she had once been. Before Harry could continue this line of thought though, the door swung open, revealing the aged face of Peggy Carter, and knocking all the air from Harry's chest.

Within photographs, the resemblance between Peggy Carter, himself, and the woman from his dreams was suspicious. When face to face, however, the resemblance was undeniable. As Harry continued to stare at the woman in shock though, her face went through a series of emotions, from confusion to shock, to anger and suspicion. Eventually, the woman managed to school her face back into one which could be considered polite, before asking a question.

"Are you here to sell me biscuits?" she asked, ignoring Harry's confused reply in favour of muttering, "Of course not, this isn't America. One of the few things I miss, really."

"Sorry?" Harry replied, unsure of how to approach the conversation.

The woman's eyes returned to him, sad, but nevertheless, fierce.

"What's your name?"

"Harry," he replied, watching the way the woman breathed in before, anger crossing her face again before she responded, her voice carefully controlled.

"I suppose you have proof?"

"Uh, no. Not really."

One of her eyebrows went up at the reply, before she stepped aside, holding the door open for him. Confused, he stood for several seconds, staring at her, before she gestured into the house.

"Well, you best come in then."

Harry took a few steps forward, allowing the door to close behind him as Peggy Carter's hands each came up to grip his shoulders, staring intently at his face.

"You're certainly younger than the rest of them."

"I was frozen in time," he offered, causing the other eyebrow to go up.

"What about a time machine?" she replied, sarcasm clear in her voice.

"No, that'd just be ridiculous."

The woman's mouth twitched at the comment, but before Harry could possibly wonder at the movement, one of her hands was grabbing his arm, and twisting him around, shoving his face into the wall. Despite Harry's protests, with her other hand, she grabbed his left arm, pulling it backwards, shoving the sleeve upwards. Several seconds passed before her breath hitched, and she twisted him back around to face her, staring intently at his face. Now, there was a desperate sort of hunger in her eyes, along with an emotion which before had been kept carefully absent: hope.

Eventually, she seemed to find whatever she needed to, releasing his shoulders, gesturing down the hallway, towards the kitchen. The walls of the hallway were decorated with photos, of him as a child, people he didn't recognise, and his father. He paused as he stared at several of them; they almost looked familiar, as if he should know them, and others, like that of his father, he simply wished to have a chance to look at. Once at the end of the hall, Peggy Carter gave him an unimpressed look, before gesturing him to sit with her hand.

"Tea?"

"Um, no thanks," he responded, pushing his bag beneath the table.

Her lips twitched again as she stared at him, heating the water as she did so.

Harry remained frozen in his seat. He wasn't certain what to make of this greeting, or of his mother's eyes, which never seemed to leave him, though they were full of both pain, and, possibly, hope. As the seconds passed by, the woman eventually turned to the kettle, pouring the boiling water from it into two different cups, placing one in front of him before taking the seat across from him.

"I assure you, I have not poisoned it."

She took a sip from her tea, staring intently again at him as he wrapped his hands around the warmth of the cup, eventually raising it to sip. At the gesture, some of the tension left his mother's body, as she began to speak again.

"I have had many people claim to be my son, and yours is without a doubt one of the most ridiculous cases I have heard," her lips twitched slightly, "Despite what you might say, a time travelling machine could very well be more realistic."

"I haven't even told you yet," he protested weakly, ignoring the raised eyebrow sent his way. How, he wondered, did this woman manage to make him feel like a misbehaving child, despite that fact the last time he had seen her he had been a baby.

"You would be willing to have a DNA test, I assume?"

He nodded in reply, which seemed to offer the woman little comfort as she took another sip from her tea.

"If all your hope lies within the results of the test, it will do little to convince me," Peggy Carter informed, staring intently at him. "Those things could be tampered with so very easily. So, Harry, tell me."

She gestured with her hand at the last word, a gesture which clearly meant 'go on', and Harry almost laughed at the gesture, one which he himself had done many times before.

"I found out that I was adopted a year ago," Harry began, before hesitating. Magic, though it might play a vital part in the story, would undoubtedly either make it far more unrealistic if she did not know of it, or if she did, possibly make his face not seem quite true. He continued moments later, coming to a decision. "My parents, my adopted ones, I mean, they died when I was little, and I was given to my adoptive mother's sister. She knew the truth but didn't mean to tell me until I was older, but when I began to suspect it, she told me."

"My adoptive mother, she was Lily Evans," he stumbled on, noting the way that his mother froze. "Dum Dum Dugan's daughter?" he offered.

"I know who Lily Evans is," she stated, "That information, however, is not common knowledge. And the woman who raised you, she was..."

"Aunt Petunia. I grew up thinking Dum Dum Dugan was my grandfather."

Another flash of emotion flew across the woman's face at his words, and she tightened her grip on the teacup.

"I knew Petunia and Lily when they were younger. Why didn't Petunia come along with you?"

"We don't particularly get along," he responded, ignoring the way that his mother's eyes narrowed at the words. "She blamed me, I think, because her father spent part of her childhood looking for me. "

Peggy nodded, her face slightly pinched.

"I didn't know that Harrison Rogers even existed until a few months ago," Harry eventually said, grasping at what to say. "Petunia, she said she didn't understand why Lily would have named her son after me. The next day, I went to the library, and found all the information I could on Harry Rogers. When I went home, Petunia told me the truth."

Before throwing me out, were the words he didn't say.

"Lily Evans," he continued, "She stole her father's journals after his death, and found me. I don't know where the journalis now. Professor Lupin, he's a teacher at my school. He was friends with Lily, and helped her find me. He's willing to talk to you, if you'll let him."

The woman remained silent, sipping her tea as she watched him twitch awkwardly, before she eventually seemed to come to a conclusion, placing her tea on the table.

"Your claims are easy enough to prove," his mother stood as she spoke, watching him as he again froze. "But if what you say is true, if you really are Harry, why weren't you returned to me."

"Lily Evans," he hesitated again; the words still brought him pain, and when said, they only seemed to make the cruel truth more real. "When her parents were murdered, she came after me because she thought the people who took me might have trained me as an assassin. She was going to send me after the people who killed her parents. When she found me though, I don't know why she didn't give me back."

His mother stared at him, her hand clenched around the teacup before she forcefully slammed it onto the table, the tea drenching the cloth it sat on. Harry jumped, and his mother's angry eyes met his own, as she forced her face into one of calmness. Finally, she began to speak again.

"You look like-"

Before Harry had a chance to hear who he looked like though, a knock resounded from down the hall: someone was knocking on the door. Both Harry and his mother froze, staring in the direction. His mother's eyes moved back towards him as she took a step towards the kitchen cabinet; he wasn't certain if her gaze was one of suspicion, or one of protectiveness.

The door swung open, and a cautious voice called into the house.

"Peggy? I hope you don't mind, there was a boy on your doorstep earlier, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," a male voice explained. There was a pause, where neither mother or son moved, before the man spoke again. "I also brought you some eggs, the chooks have been laying a lot recently. I can't eat enough to keep up with them."

Harry glanced at his mother again; her posture was no longer as tense, though her voice was tight as she called back.

"I'm quite alright, Simon. And of course I don't mind, you can never have enough eggs."

There was a laughter from the other end of the hall, and the sound of footsteps followed. A man stepped into the kitchen; the neighbour who had been watching Harry before, greeting Harry and Peggy with a smile.

"Simon, this is my nephew Anthony. He's going to be staying with me for a while."

"I suppose I should bring over some more eggs. Teenage boys, the way they eat," the man laughed as he placed the carton on the table. He glanced at Harry, then at Peggy, another smile upon his face, before he continued to speak, his voice lower than before. "You can definitely see the family resembla-"

Midsentence, the man pulled a gun from underneath his jacket, and his mother was shouting 'DUCK' as she slammed into the kitchen cabinet, pulling her own gun from one of the drawers. He took his mother's advice, leaping towards the table, and towards the bag which held his wand, but for the second time that day, felt his arm being grabbed, and for the first time, a gun pressed against his temple.

The man pulled Harry towards him, placing him between himself and his mother, whose gun shook in her hands despite the stillness of her face. Harry himself was breathing harshly, a light feeling had entered his chest, like a balloon which had begun to grow.

"I wouldn't do that, Ms Carter, you wouldn't want me to accidentally slip, would you?"

Her eyes met Harry's, and slowly she lowered the gun.

"Drop it."

The gun clattered to the ground, but the man used his own gun to gesture, taking care to hit the side of Harry's with it, before Peggy kicked the gun further away.

"Good," the man said. "Now, Ms Carter, unfortunately, though as wonderful a neighbour you may have been, I can't allow you to survive."

The words echoed through Harry; several seconds passing in which there was no sound and no movement except the sound of Harry's breathing, and the widening of Peggy's eyes. Then, there was an explosion, that came from within Harry, the man rocketing backwards, hitting one of the walls as Harry fell forwards.

A loud shot echoed through the room, the bullet missing Harry by only inches as the man aimed at him. The sound was followed quickly by another one in succession, and the gun fell out of the man's hand, his breathing growing deeper as red spread across his shoulder.

The man spluttered, stumbling his words, muttering something which sounded like 'head', seconds before Peggy marched over to him, her gun in hand. She swung it towards him, hitting him across his head, and the man collapsed.

"Is he dead?" Harry asked after a minute passed, his voice shaky.

Peggy glanced towards him, almost seeming shocked to see that he was still there. "No, he will wake in a few hours. SHIELD will want to question him."

Silence spread through the room; neither mother or son certain of what to say. Eventually, Peggy turned, kneeling beside him and cupping his face in her hands.

"You're a wizard," she said, staring at him with uncertain eyes. A second later, in which Harry's heart began to beat in panic at the words, her eyes closed, and pain became clear on her face. "You are my son. You're my Harry."

Her arms embraced him, pulling him towards her, her hair tickling his nose. She drew away from him, watching him closely for a second before beginning to speak.

"Are you injured?"

He shook his head in reply, his words having left him.

She continued, "Are you alright?"

When he nodded this time, it did not seem as true. He was alright; he finally had the family he had wished for as long as he could remember, but a man lay unconscious only a few feet away, after trying to kill both him and his mother.

Understanding covered his mother's face, as she tugged him back into her embrace.

Eventually, though, she pulled him to his feet, pressing her lips against his forehead. She took his arm, leading him away from the body and through the hallway so he was sat on a couch, his mother once again sitting across from him. She wiped her eyes, before returning her gaze to him, offering him a smile.

"You look like Micheal," she said, her voice cracking. "There's been so many boys who've claimed they were my son, and they always looked like Steve. You though, you look like Steve of course, but you also look my brother. Of course," she laughed slightly, "I suppose that means you look like me."

"SHIELD-, I'll explain who they are later. they will want to conduct a DNA test. They should be on their way now, I called them when I saw you on my doorstep. I knew, well, I suspected, that you were my son before you explained everything. You have a scar on your arm. My son, he had the same one. He had too many blood tests when he was born," she explained, "To make sure the serum had no negative effects."

"Your neighbour, Simon," Harry began, but was uncertain of how to continue.

"He's been my neighbour for years. He always has seemed quite invested in my life. To be honest, I was rather under the impression he fancied me. I should have realised something."

"Do you think he worked for the people who took me?"

His mother's eyes flew back towards him at the words, "Do you know who they were?"

Silently, Harry cursed himself for not mentioning it earlier. "It was HYDRA."

His mother's eyes widened at the words, and suddenly she was once again pulling Harry to his feet.

"Mrs Rogers-, Ms Carter- Peggy," Harry stumbled over the names, uncertain of what to call her, as she dragged him through the house, towards the front door, "Mum-"

His mother turned to stare at him at the word, "If it really was HYRDA, if Simon worked for them, there will be more. Cut off one head, another one will take its place. We need to get out of here, I'm not risking you-, not again."

Harry protested, "I can fight-, we can't just leave."

She paused at his words, before shaking her head. "Your wand, is it in your bag?"

Harry jumped slightly at the reminder, "Yeah, it is. I'll go get i-"

His mother shook her head suddenly as she started her way towards the kitchen, "No. Wait here, I'll go get it."

She returned seconds later, his bag in her hands as she led him towards her car.

"I can fight," he protested again, pulling his wand from his bag as she pushed him towards the passenger seat.

His mother pressed the keys into the ignition, ignoring his continued protests.

"I can look after myself, we can't just run. Not after what they did to..."

Harry trailed off, even less sure of what to refer to Captain America as than he was of Peggy Carter. It didn't seem to matter though, his mother understood, and she had turned to him, her eyes wide with both grief and laughter, before burrowing her head into her hands.

"He was right," she mumbled, laughter clear in her voice, "Any child of ours was doomed."

She lowered her hands, turning her eyes back to face him.

"Steve didn't die to defeat HYDRA, he died to save lives, and to give you a chance to grow in a happy, peaceful life. It might not have worked out like he hoped, but that doesn't change anything," she paused, taking a breath, her voice cracking, "Your father would not want to you to die, especially not trying to avenge him."

Harry's protesting fell silent, and his mother nodded at him, relief clear on her face before she began to back the car out the driveway.

"How will SHIELD find us?" he eventually asked, as he watched the countryside pass him.

"There's a tracker on the car," she replied, her hands tightened on the steering wheel, not sparing him a glance. "We'll be fine. I have my gun, and SHIELD will be here soon. Just, watch out for a helicopter though, or any other flying machinery."

Harry closed his eyes at the words, as they continued along the quiet roads. Occasionally, Peggy would stop, pull her phone from her pocket and glance at it, before looking around her. From the speed she drove, and the familiarity that she approached the turns in the road, Harry had no doubt she knew where they were, and perhaps that she had studied the roads for this very reason. She alternated between staring at Harry, and barely looking at him in the slightest.

"Mum," Peggy glanced towards him at the name again, barely taking her eyes off the road in front of her but Harry paid it no notice, his eyes instead focused on the approaching dark grey cars. "There not flying, but what about cars?"

His mother's narrowed her eyes as she spotted the approaching cars, before turning suddenly onto one of the side streets, Harry's head bumping against the window at the sudden movement.

"Are you alright?" she yelled over the sound of the engine as she accelerated, but Harry barely noticed the question, instead watching the vehicles behind them brake furiously, some managing to turn in time, others cascading into their companions. As they gained speed, Harry found himself struggling to spot the cars from the dirt that their own sped up, and often hoped that they had lost them, only for them to appear a few seconds later.

"What are you doing?" he yelled back as they turned suddenly again, his head once again bouncing against the window as they charged through a gate.

"Do you think you can steer?" his mum asked him, as she glanced into the mirror. The pack of cars had been thinned again, but many were still following them, and now, judging by the sudden shattering of one of the mirrors, they were using guns.

"Sorry?" he asked, unsure if had heard her correctly. Surely this was hardly the time for a driving lesson, Harry thought delariously. His mother glanced at him, pulling her gun from its holster, and suddenly Harry understood.

"This is insane," he shouted as reached over to grab the steering wheel as Peggy opened the window. With a final nod, she turned her head and began to fire at the cars behind them, leaving Harry to attempt to steer. Even as he narrowly missed a flock of sheep and broke through another fence, a grin began to spread across his lips.

His mum was badass.

From his occasional glances in the mirror, Harry could see the cars behind them thinning, and eventually, with the help of some sheep, there was only a singular car left, which too soon fell into a passing creek. Harry let out a loud whoop as he charged through another fence, landing them on a forest road, and his mum began to laugh as she took the wheel again.

He couldn't wait to tell Ron and Hermione about this, Harry thought, his head vaguely lightheaded as he laughed. Not only had he met his mum, but he had driven a car through a car chase. Hermione would either be impressed or horrified.

Suddenly though, even as thoughts of his head filled his mind, his head bounced against the glass once again, the car suddenly spinning beneath them. It slammed into a tree, both Harry and Peggy's heads slamming into the front of the car.

The airbags exploded, and when Harry managed to free himself from it, it was to the sight of an approaching car, and the feeling of blood running down his face. In his hand, Harry noticed distantly, his wand had been broken in two. His mum next to him was coughing, a horrified expression on her face as she watched the approaching vehicle.

"Harry, run," his mum whispered.

"I'm not leaving you," he protested, as he struggled to free both himself and his mother from the car. His mother, he quickly realised, had been far worse injured than he had. She had been thrown into the wheel by the car and was now sitting oddly, trying to keep all her weight from leaning too far to the right.

Desperately, he tried to reach towards his magic, but each time he almost seemed to reach it, it escaped, making him dizzier with each try.

"I'll be a few seconds behind you," his mum winced, "I just need to get something out of the back of the car."

"No," Harry shook his head. "I'm not leaving you."

"Harry, it's not me they're after. It's you. Please, run."

Harry glanced at the approaching car again, a plan beginning to form in his head again at her words. He jumped out of the car, and began to run towards it, ignoring his mum's yells as ran, attempting to ignore the way that the world spun around him.

"Come and get me!" he shouted, throwing his arms into the air as the car stopped in front of him. He turned, dashing into the trees as he heard the yells and laughter of the men behind him.

The ground beneath him was covered in logs, which he found himself stumbling over as he darted around trees, occasionally hearing the sounds of footsteps behind him. Eventually, he settled into a rhythm, stumbling less as he began to gain speed, and the sounds of footsteps behind him disappeared. As his breath began to tremble, he slowed to a jog, glancing around him in an effort to get an idea of his surroundings.

He only had the chance to think, 'trees, trees, and the occasional rock' before something cold grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dangling him in the air for several seconds, in which he struggled wildly, before he was dropped suddenly to the ground. He yelped, crawling back several steps before standing, and freezing as he saw the figure standing over him.

"No-, no, no," he cried as the figure approached him again; the face, hidden by a mask, and the arm, were no different than the boggart which had haunted his nightmares for weeks. Harry threw his fists towards the man, but he caught them, throwing him back to the ground.

"Expelliarmis!" he shouted, but it made no difference, the man not even hesitating before he continued to walk towards. Desperately, as the man grabbed his shirt, pulling him back to his feet, he tried again to reach towards his magic, attempting to throw it towards the man, but the other didn't falter.

"No," he protested again, as a bag was shoved over his head. Harry felt the world begin to spin, seconds before it fled, and he fell to the ground.

Happy Birthday to Peggy Carter. For your present, I have had your son kidnapped. Again. (no seriously her birthday is the ninth of April)

Also, Peggy. I think at this point you should just stop trusting neighbours. Honestly.

To those people who got excited about my updating a few days ago, I'm sorry. I added chapter titles, and apparently, they took that as an update. Sorry.

Title from the Strumbellas' 'We Don't Know'

Please leave a review! I truly do appreciate them

Edit: 5/5/17. I went back and changed the part about the wand, so Harry broke it during the car case, instead of just leaving it behind. It just seemed far more realistic