Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction, and I'm not sure I've nailed the action parts. If you have any criticism/feedback/suggestion, please let me know.

But Aunt Marge suddenly stopped speaking. For a moment, it looked as though words had failed her. She seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger - but the swelling didn't stop. Her great red face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged, and her mouth stretched too tightly for speech - next second, several buttons had just burst from her tweed jacket and pinged off the walls - she was inflating like a monstrous balloon, her stomach bursting free of her tweed waistband, each of her fingers blowing up like a salami -

"MARGE!" yelled Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia together as Aunt Marge's whole body began to rise off her chair toward the ceiling. She was entirely round, now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and her hands and feet stuck out weirdly as she drifted up into the air, making apoplectic popping noises. Ripper came skidding into the room, barking madly.

"NOOOOOOO!" Uncle Vernon seized one of Marge's feet and tried to pull her down again, but was almost lifted from the floor himself. A second later, Ripper leapt forward and sank his teeth into Uncle Vernon's leg.

Harry tore from the dining room before anyone could stop him, heading for the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard door burst magically open as he reached it. In seconds, he had heaved his trunk to the front door. He sprinted upstairs and threw himself under the bed, wrenching up the loose floorboard, and grabbed the pillowcase full of his books and birthday presents. He wriggled out, seized Hedwig's empty cage, and dashed back downstairs to his trunk, just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters, a Glock in his hand pointed towards Harry.

"COME BACK IN HERE!" he bellowed. "COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!"

But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked the Glock out of Uncle Vernon's hand, caught it as it was spinning in the air, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon.

"She deserved it," Harry said, breathing very fast. "She deserved what she got. You keep away from me."

He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door.

"I'm going," Harry said. "I've had enough."

And in the next moment, he was out in the dark, quiet street, heaving his heavy trunk behind him, Hedwig's cage under his arm.

/ / / / /

They found Mr. Weasley sitting in the bar, reading the Daily prophet. "Harry!" he said, smiling as he looked up. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," said Harry as he, Ron, and Hermione joined Mr. Weasley with their shopping.

Mr. Weasley put down his paper, and Harry saw the now familiar picture of Sirius Black staring up at him.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" he asked.

"No," said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely grave. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

"Oh." said Harry.

"Harry," said Mr. Weasley, some of that mad glint coming back into his eyes, "can you explain to me what a gun is? There's something in the Daily Prophet but if you had more information..."

Harry looked at Hermione for help explaining what a gun is.

"Well..." they both started. Then Harry had a brainwave.

"Wait," he said, "I actually have one upstairs. Let me go get it."

And ignoring Hermione's questioning look as to why he would just happen to have a gun, he went to his room and came back with a gun and a magazine in his hand. While he was doing that, Hermione was explaining to Mr. Weasley how there were multiple types of guns.

"This type of gun is called a pistol. The way it works is that if you press the trigger here it fires."

"So like the Muggle version of Avada Kadavra?"

"Not exactly. By itself it's just a machine -"

"I know what those are!" interjected Mr. Weasley excitedly, causing the people in the bar to look over. Ron, Fred, and George tried to look as if they were not related.

"- to fire bullets." Harry finished, showing him the bullet poking out of the magazine. "You see the point here? This goes into the person and injures them."

Harry pushed the magazine into the gun and pulled the slide. He let go, and it slid back into place.

"The gun is now loaded. If you pull the trigger, -"

Before he could say anything else, Mr. Weasley grabbed the gun from where Harry was holding the gun loosely and fired into the general vicinity of the crowd.

One of the wizards gave a cry of pain and fell down. The wizards around him called for some essence of Dittany. Tom the barman glared at Mr. Weasley as he brought it. Mr. Weasley gave a sheepish grin, and Tom's look became more exhasperated than hostile.

Harry wasn't too worried about the wizard, since he knew that the most fatal Muggle injuries were just minor scratches and bruises for wizards. He explained more about guns with Hermione helping him, and Mr. Weasley looked so fascinated Harry gave him the gun too keep. It wasn't as if it was going to be much use to him anyways.