“RON!  FRED!  GEORGE!  DOWNSTAIRS NOW!”

“Yes, Mum!” chorused three voices.

Mrs. Weasley huffed then looked at Harry and Ginny, who were chuckling.  She smirked at them and said, “Quiet you two rascals.  Are you ready?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Good.  BOYS!”

“COMING!”

“Calm down, woman!”

“Yes, give us time!”

Mrs. Weasley scowled up the stairs then pulled back as Ron came tumbling down them, landing on his butt in the middle of the staircase.

“INCOMIIIIING!!!!”

“BONZAIIII!!”

Ron looked up in horror then ducked as Fred first, then George leapt over his head.  The twins landed on a rug, which skidded out from under them, sending both of them to the floor.

“Ow…”

“Ow…”

Mrs. Weasley strode forward, planted her hands on her hips, and stared down at the twins.

“Oh, hello.”

“Fine day for a fall, isn’t it?”

Ginny chortled at this, quickly covering her mouth, while Harry simply looked amused, his eyes dancing with laughter and a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head then tapped the twin’s heads with her right foot.

“Up!  And no more joking around.  We’re going after school supplies.”

“But our lists haven’t arrived!” said Ron as he got up off the floor wincing.

“Yes, they have,” said Mrs. Weasley, pulling five letters out of her pocket.  “I asked Minerva to send them early so we can get that done and…a few other things.”  Her blue eyes flicked to Harry and she winked at him, causing the teen to chuckle.  He knew she was talking about his birthday and didn’t want him to know it.

But then again, she was a Slytherin.  She knew that he knew that she knew about his birthday.

“Can we go now?” asked Ginny.

“As soon as your brothers get up off the floor.”

Ginny scowled at the twins and venomously barked, “Get your arses up off the floor or force me to seriously injure you!”

“Yes, Madam Vixen.”

“Of course, Madam Vixen.”

Ginny glared at them then turned and strode over to the fireplace where Mrs. Weasley was waiting with a small smile on her face.  Fred and George finally pulled themselves off of the floor as Mrs. Weasley threw a handful of Floo Powder in the grate.

Then they were gone.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Well, I think we’ve got everything.  Back to home, now.”

“To home we go!  To home we go!” began to sing the twins as they all headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, arms filled with packages.  As they entered and headed for the fireplace, Harry spoke.

“I need to get one more thing.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at him then turned back towards the back alley that led to Diagon Alley and Harry shook his head.

“Not there.  Out there.”  He jabbed his thumb towards the door leading out into Muggle London and Mrs. Weasley frowned.

“I don’t know…”

“Mum,” said Ginny, “Harry knows the streets better than all of us.”

“And I’m just going down the road a bit,” said Harry.

Mrs. Weasley looked skeptical.  She had been entrusted with the life of the son of one of her good friends and didn’t want to let him out of her sight.

Ron looked at his friend and asked, “Where are you going, Harry?”

“Music store,” replied the dark-haired teen.  “For Ni’s birthday.”

Mrs. Weasley frowned at him for a moment longer then said, “Go on then.  But hurry!”

“I will,” said Harry, setting his things down and heading out into the London traffic.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry was exiting the music store Niamh had raided the year before a few minutes later, a bag dangling from his hand.  He was grinning wryly as he thought about the surprise that would be on the girl’s face when he presented her with not only two CD’s but with the finished (and working) boom box.  It had taken him almost a year to get it to work, but he’d done it and he was damn proud of himself.

It also worked well to take his mind off other things – things he didn’t want to think about.

But, as generally happens in life, it wanted to torture him.

As he strode past an alley and started to turn to cross the road back to the Leaky Cauldron, an arm snaked out and grabbed his wrist tightly.

Harry dropped the bag, spun on a heel, grabbed the arm right where upper and lower arm joined, and twisted it hard to the right.  There was a satisfying crack of the shoulder popping out of place and Harry smiled slightly.  This idiot wouldn’t be messing with anyone for a long time.

“Harry,” croaked a familiar voice.

The dark-haired teen narrowed his eyes, trying to place it.  It suddenly clicked and he let out an animalistic snarl, throwing the person into a wall and holding them there.

“Nice to see you too,” croaked the person.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” snarled Harry, remembering the last time he had seen this person.

It had not been a happy day.

“Looking for you.”

Harry pressed his hand down on the dislocated shoulder, hearing a grunt of discomfort from the shadowed figure against the wall.  He growled, “Do you remember what I said I’d do if I saw you again?”

There was a pause then the person whispered in a pained voice, “You said you’d kill me.”

Harry smiled cruelly and pushed the shoulder back into place, earning a scream this time.  He took a step back, folded his arms across his chest, and glared venomously as the figure slid down the wall, right arm clutched to their chest.

“Then what the hell are you doing here, Baxter?”

Abram Baxter looked up at Harry, flinching under the younger boy’s glare.  It was rather comical.  A twenty-three-year-old cowering before a fourteen-year-old.

“I came looking for you.”

“You have a death wish?” asked Harry with an arch of an eyebrow.

“No.”

“Then what?  I have people waiting on me.  If I don’t get back soon, they’re going to come looking.  So talk fast before I leave.”

Pale green, pained eyes looked into fierce emerald green ones.

“Tyls is alive.”

Words cannot describe what went across Harry’s face at those words.  It was more than anger, more than rage.

The teen lunged at Abram and slung him around to his feet, shoving him hard against the opposite wall of the alley.  Abram’s face was no longer shadowed and it could be seen to have an expression of horror upon it.  Harry’s face was shadowed now and horrible in its expression.

And to Abram’s utmost horror, his eyes had turned that same pitch-black color as they had the night Tyls had died.

“Tyls is dead.  I watched him die.  He died in my arms because of you.  Because you helped that bastard of a man.”

“I’m…sorry,” gasped Abram.  “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him.”

“Yet you did.  You did and it cost Tyls his life.”

“I didn’t know he was going to kill him!”

“Bull!” snarled Harry, eyes flashing.  “You knew he was capable of it!  He killed Nyv right in front of all of us!  And Cal and Leo!  You knew he never gave a damn about any of us, except that we kept money in his pockets and that he had the elder one’s to rape.”

“Alright!” yelled Abram.  “I did.  I did know.  I knew he’d kill him.  But I thought…”

“You thought what?”

“That maybe he wouldn’t.  But he did…”

“You’re as much of an idiot as I remember,” snarled Harry, shoving him backwards and turning away to leave.  “Run, Baxter.  Do it now or find yourself holding your arm instead of it being attached at your shoulder.

Abram pushed himself weakly away from the wall, watching the younger boy.  He had no doubt Harry would carry out that threat or something like it.  And he’d have taken it.  He deserved something.  He was half the cause of Tyls’ death.

“Maybe I should have just left you in that alley.”

Harry turned at the softly spoken words, his eyes green again but still blazing with anger.

“What did you say?” he growled.

“That maybe I should have left you in that alley,” repeated Abram.  “I’m the one that found you.  Lyra may have taken you in, but I found you.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?  Am I supposed to thank you for keeping me alive?  To be scarred by that creature?”

“You weren’t the only one hurt, Harry,” said Abram.

“No,” said Harry, ducking his head slightly.  His lifted his eyes to glare at Abram and continued, “But I got the worst.”

“Because you were the youngest.  Argil wanted to get rid of you.”

“Lyra told me.  Go away now, Abram.  Go back to whatever your life is now.”

“Living in a cardboard box,” said Abram sullenly, looking down at the ground and unaware that Harry was staring at him now.  “Well, not anymore.  The rain and that guy Wormtail took care of that.”

There was a hiss of breath and Harry spat, “What did you say?”

Abram looked up in surprise.

“About living in a cardboard box?”

“About Wormtail.”

“You know him?”

Harry let out a rattling breath between his bared teeth, eyes blazing.  He looked at Abram and snarled, “He was responsible for my mother’s death.”

“Holy shit…”

“Was there someone else there?”

“Yeah, some psycho with a snake face.  Harry?”

Harry felt like he’d been punched.  Wormtail and Voldemort.  The two of them.  Strolling about the slums of London, his old home.  What did that unholy duo have to do in the slums?

“What were they doing?”

“I told you,” snapped Abram, “they brought Tyls back.”

“There’s no way to bring someone back to life!” roared Harry.

“Well, it sure looked like it.”

“Were you drunk?”

“Fuck no!”

Harry gave him a skeptical look and Abram glared at him.

“I wasn’t drunk.  I don’t drink.”

“You tell that to Mara.  I remember that night.”

Abram winced.  He had been drunk once and Mara had gotten hurt for it.  She’d never been able to use her left arm fully after that night.

“I never meant…”

“Many people don’t mean for things to happen,” snapped Harry.  “They just happen.  You didn’t mean for Tyls to die.  I believe that.  But he did and I blame you for it.”

“You confronting Argil didn’t do him any good!”

“I was trying to save him!  More than you were doing!”

“It didn’t work, did it?”

“Oh, no.  Don’t you pin this on me.”

“I’m not,” snapped Abram.  He then shook his head and said, “I thought you’d believe me.  That Wormtail and the snake-faced man did something to Tyls.  And from the look on your face when I mentioned the snake-faced man, you know him.  And you’re afraid.”

Harry scowled.

“Go.”

“Why…”

“Get the fuck out of my sight!  Or I’ll kill you!  I swear on Tyls’ grave, I’ll kill you!”

Abram stared at the younger boy for a moment then turned and began to walk down the alley.  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced over his shoulder to watch Harry pick up his bag and storm across the street.

“Hard to swear on his grave when he doesn’t have one.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry, are you okay?” asked Ginny as he stormed into the Leaky Cauldron, his expression telling wonders.

“Fine,” growled the teen, not looking at her.  “I got what I wanted.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at him for a moment then said, “Alright, everyone, get your things.”  She tossed a handle of Floo powder into the fireplace then stepped through.

Harry was second in and by the time Ron and Ginny had emerged from the fireplace in the Burrow, he was already upstairs.  The two of them looked at each other but neither wanted to confront him.

The look he’d had on his face when he’d come back in the Cauldron told them that that would be a very bad idea.

One that might result in broken bones.