Hermione glanced back at one of her best friends, his dark hair blowing in the slight wind, as his face remained tilted down towards the sidewalk. She was still upset with Harry for just disappearing on them like that. It was still so dangerous for him to be off by himself, anything could have happened. He could have been taken, or worse, killed. She just couldn’t stand the thought of not having Harry in her life any longer. These mad urges to run off on his own simply had to stop.

She glanced at her other best friend, currently strolling down the sidewalk beside her. As if sensing her gaze, he glanced in her direction and gave a half smile. “What’s he doing?” he asked, not daring to glance back. He wanted to talk to Harry so badly, but was afraid he’d let his annoyance come out and say something he’d definitely regret.

“Just walking,” she said slowly. “I’m starting to feel bad for yelling at him, Ron,” she mumbled, taking another glance in Harry’s direction.

“You shouldn’t feel bad for that. He’s got to realize that he’s still in danger…” he trailed off, looking Hermione in the eyes. “I really thought Death Eaters had taken him from the bookstore for a minute there. That place was so big and I couldn’t find him anywhere. I know he can take care of himself, but if he’d really been taken, how would he be able to defend himself against a bunch of hex-happy Death Eaters?” he huffed angrily.

Hermione just shrugged. “He’s Harry, he always seems to find a way,” she said, her eyes staring at something only she could see. “But, his luck can only last for so long.”

“Exactly.”

Hermione sighed again, looking sad. “Still, he was just trying to help that little kid and we jumped down his throat for it. We should have given him the benefit of the doubt instead of jumping to conclusions that, and you’ve got to admit, we’re a little bit excessive. We’re in Muggle London, what would Death Eaters be doing here? They wouldn’t even know Harry was around after being practically a recluse for the past month or so, let alone know the Bookstore he just so happened to be in. The Death Eaters are in hiding and besides, it would be too dangerous for them to show their faces on a crowded street,” she explained, continuing to look back at her friend.

Ron remained silent, taking in everything his friend had said. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and before he even realized he’d done it, his arm was sliding behind Hermione’s shoulders. She looked up at him in surprise, but smiled at him when the arm stayed where it was. She leaned into his embrace and wrapped her own arm around his waist.

“Should we apologize?” he finally asked after an indeterminate amount of time.

Hermione looked back at her raven-haired friend, just as a man started yelling.

“Ron!” she exclaimed, pulling out of his embrace in the same instant he began to pull away from her. Her hand went to her mouth in horror. Harry.

………………………………

George sighed as his twin continued to look angry. Ever since they’d left the Bookstore, all Fred had done was stalk down the road beside him. He wouldn’t even talk to him, which wasn’t like his brother at all. He glanced back at Harry and noticed how dejected he looked.

“Are you still huffing about because of Harry disappearing on us?” he asked, and was startled when Fred looked up at him with annoyance clear to see in his eyes.

“It was a stupid thing for him to do!” exclaimed Fred, his face nearly turning a deeper shade of red due to his anger. “Anything could have happened.”

“But it didn’t. He didn’t even leave the Bookstore. I mean, I could understand if he’d left, but he hadn’t. He was helping some kid,” said George, feeling the need to defend Harry in the face of Fred’s ire. “And besides, this is Harry we’re talking about. He’s the most powerful wizard we know!”

Fred bristled and turned to face his twin. “It doesn’t matter how powerful he is, George! Did you know that he didn’t even realize he’d killed Voldemort? Harry hadn’t even been paying attention to him! He was saving Snape, and the only reason he’s still alive today is because he just so happened to invoke his powers at the precise moment Voldemort sent the Killing Curse his way. He could be dead right now!” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down so no one could hear. He’d overheard his parents talking about just this subject only a week ago. He’d been devastated to hear how close Harry had come to dying. He was too reckless.

George looked nearly as aghast as Fred when he’d first heard his parents talking. “What? You’re serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious. I wouldn’t joke about it,” he said quietly. “He never thinks before he acts.”

“Well, he could still basically protect himself, though, right?”

Fred shrugged. “According to Harry, it takes a lot of concentration to produce the kind of magic it took to save his father. So, as long as he’s got time to concentrate,” he said hotly.

“Oh, leave off him!” exclaimed George, getting annoyed at his brother by this point. “He was trying to help that kid. Why, exactly, are we so pissed at him? It happened, it’s over, no harm, no foul…all that crap. He’s fine, so why do you all continue to make him feel bad?” he asked, just as hotly, jerking his thumb towards Harry.

Fred followed George’s thumb with his eyes and ended up looking at Harry once more. Seeing him looking so depressed made him feel extremely guilty for griping all this time. He exhaled slowly. “I just worry about him. After everything that’s happened before this, any time he disappears, I worry. I know he can handle himself, but sometimes, he can’t. He’s just a kid, and I think a lot of people forget that some times.”

“Yeah, I know it. He’s been hurt so many times you can’t help but feel protective. Hell, I even feel protective,” said George, smiling a bit.

“I wish he’d come up here and talk to us,” remarked Fred.

George snorted. “He probably could sense your anger a mile away. I doubt he’d come up here, especially with everyone else still a little peeved as well,” said George, indicating the rest of their group. “Would you?”

Fred couldn’t blame Harry for keeping his distance. “No, I wouldn’t. Come on, maybe we…” he was cut off as a man started yelling behind them. He saw Ron and Hermione suddenly turn in their direction, but they were staring over the twins’ shoulders at something behind them. The looks on their faces made them turn around immediately. Fred cursed.

………………………………..

Draco didn’t see what the big deal was. Looking around him, he could just see the anger, frustration, and worry battling over possession on everyone’s faces. And then there was Harry, the one who had the predominate look of melancholy down to an art form. If he looked any more depressed, Draco himself thought he might cry just from Harry’s expressions alone.

But honestly, they were seriously over-reacting to this entire situation. Harry didn’t need anyone’s permission to go put a kid where he rightfully belonged, back in his parents’ protection. He was perfectly safe doing that. At least, Draco thought so. When his parents were still with him, he’d leave without telling them all the time. Nothing had ever happened to him. And they’d been in a Bookstore, for Merlin’s sake. What could possibly happen in a grungy, old bookstore? Absolutely nothing. They were boring places were only boring things happened.

Except that kid had gotten lost, and Harry had disappeared, if only for a few minutes. And, he had to admit, once Harry’s friends had started getting all anxious, he’d grown worried as well. But, Harry had turned up almost right away, in less than ten minutes, and everything had been fine. That time.

Taking a deep breath, Draco felt himself getting pulled into the others’ worry as he let his thoughts wander to what could have happened to the raven-haired teen. His friend. Someone who had a tendency to get hurt, through no fault of his own.

All at once, his thoughts were shattered by a loud yell. He turned around before he had a chance to think and saw something that made his blood run cold. It was one thing to hear about him, but another idea entirely to actually see the bulging man in all his hideous glory. And he’d hit Harry.

………………………………….

Mr. Weasley knew he should have been keeping a better eye on Harry, honestly, what kind of wizard was he that he couldn’t even keep track of one child? He was upset with himself for letting Harry slip past his guards when he went to help that little boy. Granted, Harry had a very viable reason for leaving them, but it wouldn’t have taken more than a minute to inform his friends where he was going.

Now, he felt a little bad at seeing the way the trip had gloomed for all involved. Harry especially. The poor child was trailing behind the rest of them, looking sullen. He supposed in retrospect that he shouldn’t have gotten quite so angry with him. Harry was such a sweet kid; it was exceptionally hard to stay upset with him. But, now he was beginning to realize he’d made Harry feel bad for doing the right thing, despite the fact he hadn’t told anyone where he was going and he’d still been doing the right thing by finding that boy’s parents.

And now he’d have to tell Severus Snape what had happened with Harry, bringing the possibility of more trouble for the boy, trouble, which he didn’t really deserve. He was just about to go and talk to the smaller teen when an angry yell startled him from his reverie.

“Hey! Leave that kid alone!” Arthur, along with the rest of the teenagers had all spun around at the voice, wondering what in the blazes was going on, when the unknown man yelled again. “What the hell are you doing!”

At the sight that beheld them all, Mr. Weasley broke into a run without any thought. Harry was down on the ground, blood trickling from a split lip, with an enraged man standing over him looking rather vicious. In the moment it took for him to pull out his wand, Vernon Dursley had picked up his nephew and thrown him in the car. By the time he’d taken aim on the beefy man, he’d already sprawled gracelessly into the vehicle and was pulling out into oncoming traffic.

…………………………….

Fred and George whipped their wands from their sleeves as they saw what was happening to their friend. It was a breath-stopping shock to see Vernon punch Harry in the face, sending the small body slumping into Vernon’s arms.

Fred screamed. “No!”

Unthinkingly, Fred raised his wand to cast a spell at the speeding car, but a hand was suddenly pushing his arm down and the spell went south. “What the hell are you doing!” he screamed, turning around to push away the supposed offender, only to discover it was Hermione, looking rather upset herself.

“You’ll cause a crash if you do that!” she screamed back, nearly hysterical, but rational enough to realize if Fred’s spell had hit the car, it would have caused a wreck. “There’s too much traffic! You can’t do that, Harry could have been killed!” she continued to scream.

Fred pushed her hand off his arm. “He’ll be hurt any ways!” he yelled back, his hand flying in the direction the car had just sped off in. “That was his Uncle! You know what he’ll do to him!”

Hermione started sobbing then, and Fred sighed in frustration. Ron was glowering at him, but looking just as distressed as the rest. Fred pulled Hermione to his side and gave her a quick hug. “Hush now, we’ll figure this out. I didn’t meant to yell,” he apologized quietly, handing her over to Ron as he approached.

“We’ll never find them in this traffic,” started Mr. Weasley, his face pale. “We need to get to the Leaky Cauldron. Severus is waiting there for us,” he said quietly, running a hand roughly down his face.

Draco had been standing on the sidewalk, staring down the road from whence the car had disappeared. It had been such a shock to see Harry being hit like that, the way his father used to hit him. He turned back to the others, his face gone so pale he nearly appeared translucent. “Severus will know what to do,” he said shakily. He couldn’t imagine what could be happening to Harry right now. He knew the boy could handle himself, but somehow, in the face of your own family, your magic always seemed insignificant compared to them. Would Harry be able to fight him off? He wasn’t prepared to lose Harry, not when he’d just found him.

The group quickly made their way down the streets, Hermione in the lead. She was moving so fast the others were having a hard time keeping up with her, but no one stopped to ask her to slow down. They were in too much of a hurry to find Snape and Mrs. Weasley. They needed help and they knew it. And Harry. What was that bastard doing to him? It had been nearly fifteen minutes since Harry had been violently pulled into his Uncle’s car. They had heard of the abuse, they had even imagined what it might have been like, but none of them had ever seen it first hand. They had never imagined the violence Vernon Dursley would dish out just to abduct his nephew. How hard he would hit him! The anger and hate they saw in his eyes, all of it focusing on Harry. They had never imagined how small Harry was compared to the monster that was his Uncle or just how defenseless he was when up against something like that.

“We’re almost there!” yelled Hermione suddenly, craning her neck behind her to see if they were paying attention. They were, obviously. Shoving the door opened, they each piled in, eyes roving the customers already seated at the tables and at the bar. It was packed.

“MUM!” yelled Ron, having caught a glimpse of red hair near the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms. Finally, they made out three figures moving towards them, slowly at first, and then speeding up when they saw the distressed look upon all their faces.

“Where’s Harry?” asked Severus, having done a mental head count and finding one missing. He didn’t see that wild raven-hair anywhere in the lot of them. His heart nearly caught in his throat.

“Severus, Harry…he was kidnapped,” started Mr. Weasley.

“Kidnapped? What do you mean? Who, who took him?” he asked, growing more and more alarmed at the looks adorning their faces.

“Severus,” Mr. Weasley was using his ‘calm’ voice, but it only served to make Snape even more upset.

”Where is he!” he yelled, stilling the entire room behind them.

Mrs. Weasley gave them a stern look and they all went back to their earlier conversations, though some still tried to eavesdrop.

Finally, Ron took center stage. “Professor Snape, it was his Uncle who took him,” he said shakily, his heart still beating erratically from the rush here and the horrified moment when Vernon Dursley had ripped Harry from them.

Snape stood motionless.

“Severus?” Mrs. Weasley lightly touched his arm, but he merely brushed it off.

“What?” he asked, needing clarification.

Draco suddenly pushed his way through them and grasped Severus’ sleeve, gaining his attention. Releasing his godfather, Draco began to tell him what had happened, everything from the mysterious mans’ yell to when Vernon had pulled Harry into the car.

Snape couldn’t allow himself to think. To think would be a moment when he would realize what could possibly be happening to his son, and he couldn’t afford that to happen. “Where did you last see him?” he asked, his face a mask of stoicism.

“It was just a few blocks from here,” said Hermione. “I can take you back there, if you’d like?” she asked, wanting to help in any way possible.

“That would be appreciated, thank you, Ms. Granger,” he said politely.

“Should I contact Dumbledore?” asked Mr. Weasley, watching Severus’ face expectantly. He knew what the man was doing, hiding his emotions as it were, and at the moment, it wasn’t such a bad idea, it would allow focus, at least for the time being.

“It wouldn’t hurt. Harry’s not only in danger from his Uncle, but any Death Eaters that might discover he’s missing, as well. And, the more we have working on this, hopefully, the more quickly we’ll find Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley, echoing Severus thoughts.

Ginny was sent to the fireplace to contact Dumbledore and anyone else who could help them.

Not ten minutes later, the Leaky Cauldron’s customers were diminishing as more and more Order members filed in through the fireplace.

“Heard Potter was missing,” stated Mad-Eye Moody, his wooden leg clunking along as he walked towards them. “What happened?” he asked gruffly.

Ron tried to explain to the accumulating crowd of Order members and Hogwarts Staff, but the din just grew too loud. Everyone was talking at once, trying to determine what was going on. Finally, he’d had enough.

“Shut up!” he roared. That was enough to shock the entire room into absolute silence. You could have heard a pin drop. “Harry’s damn Uncle has taken him! That’s what’s going on! If you’d shut your flapping jaws for more than a minute, you’d know that!” he continued to rant, oblivious to the opened-mouthed expressions on nearly everyone present. “Listen! It’s been over thirty minutes since he was taken! We need to start a plan, now!” he finally came to a close, having noticed the flabbergasted look on his parents’ faces. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, but not regretting it at all.

“Well said, Weasley,” stated Moody.

Ron just nodded, not sure how to take the compliment, and began strategizing with Snape, who had become unnaturally calm, considering what was transpiring. But, Ron could see how it was affecting the older man, just from this alone. He could only assume the man was keeping his fear for his son to himself; otherwise he would crumble in the breeze. It was so easy to see now, just how much Snape loved Harry. He felt ashamed to have ever thought Severus would hurt his best friend.

“All right. I believe the best option is to split up. Everyone has a description of the car Harry was taken in and a picture of Vernon Dursley. If you spot the vehicle, Harry, or Dursley, send a red balloon into the air.”

The balloon had been Hermione’s idea. When they realized they couldn’t just send up sparks as a signal, it would be too conspicuous, she had thought up the idea of a balloon. It wouldn’t be all that unnatural to see a balloon in the sky, whereas any type of light show would draw too much attention.

Splitting into pairs, the group went off in their own direction, hoping to see any sign of the teen.

Severus had followed Hermione back to the scene of the abduction. Upon arrival, it was as if nothing had happened there. People were bustling down the street; cars drove past, no one any wiser to the fact that a child had been ripped from the safety of his friends and family at this very spot. Except, there was a man now hurrying up to them.

“Did you find him?” asked a man wearing an old t-shirt and jeans. Fred was the first to recognize who this person was.

“You’re the one who tried to stop him,” he said softly. “No, we haven’t found him yet.”

The man frowned, looking back over his shoulder as the woman he had been with earlier came walking over. “Hello,” she said, looking tense.

“I’m Jason, and this is Auriona, my wife. I’m so sorry I didn’t get to that boy sooner,” he said helplessly.

Snape finally realized this must be the man who had yelled, getting the Weasley’s and Ms. Granger’s attention in the first place. “I’m that boy’s father,” he said shortly, his tone coming out harsher than he’d intended. Stress did that to a person.

Jason, startled by this man’s sudden intensity, gazed at them apologetically. “Is there anything we can do to help?” he asked, feeling the need to do something. “We stayed close, hoping the car your son had been pulled into would drive past again…or something. I’m very familiar with the surroundings if you might need any help searching,” he said, having noticed they seemed a bit lost. He wasn’t sure if the feeling was from actually being unfamiliar with these streets or having a child kidnapped right before their eyes. Perhaps it was both.

“Did you see what happened? Or where the man came from?” asked Mr. Weasley. He’d been wondering why they hadn’t noticed Harry’s Uncle on the side of the road. When they’d all noticed what was happening, Vernon Dursley had already begun to abuse Harry. He shuddered at the memory of that monster slamming his fist into Harry’s face. He couldn’t wait to find the child he considered as his own son and have him safely in their protective embrace once more.

“Actually, I remember noticing your son,”

Ron interrupted, “His name is Harry,” he said suddenly.

Jason nodded. “Okay. I saw Harry kneeled down tying his shoe. The only reason I even noticed him was because this big man had suddenly climbed out of his car. He looked really, really hateful, and he had been staring right at this kid…Harry,” he looked at them all sadly. “It all happened so fast. I could tell the second the man set eyes on your Harry that he wanted to hurt him. I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

Hermione returned the sad look, a thought in her mind that just wouldn’t go away no matter how many times she tried to push it away. She just had to know. “Sir?” she asked.

Jason looked at her expectantly.

“H-how did…Harry had a split lip,” she trailed off, feeling awful for even wanting to know.

“You want to know what happened?” he asked. Hermione nodded her head, noticing everyone else was looking at them now.

“The man had grabbed him, and the kid…Harry, he starting fighting back almost instantly. So, the man spun him around and slapped him across the face. Harry fell to the ground, and you saw the rest,” he said, shrugging, still wishing he’d been able to do more. That man had hit him so hard…and who had he been? “May I ask…who was that man?” he wasn’t sure if he should even ask the question, but he’d been wondering ever since the boy had been pulled into the car. It had been obvious they knew each other.

“It was his Uncle,” said an older redheaded gentleman, solemnly.

“Oh,” replied Jason, stunned. He refused to ask any more questions. This really wasn’t any of his business, but he’d felt compelled to stick around. “Have you called the police?” he asked suddenly.

Severus looked at the others and then noticed the Headmaster coming up from behind Jason and his wife. “Any news?” he asked. Albus ignored the astonished looks from the man and woman standing before him.

“Ah, no.”

Dumbledore nodded his head. He’d donned a muggle outfit, but with his long white beard, many people had stared at him obtrusively, despite his attempt to blend in. “The authorities have been made aware of the situation,” said Albus, wondering just who these muggles were. He’d heard the man’s question and answered truthfully. The authorities had been notified, just not the ones the young man before him had been referring to.

“Jason, we should get out of their way,” said Auriona silently.

Jason nodded, not wanting to interfere with their search. “If you don’t need any help, then?” he asked. At their reply in the negative, he and his wife left, but not before handing out their phone number asking one of them to call when they found the boy. “We just want to make sure he’s all right,” he said silently, wondering if they’d ever get a call, and hoping they would.

………………………

It had been over an hour now since Harry had gone missing and still no word had been heard.

Severus wasn’t sure how much longer he could maintain his stoic facade. His son was in the hands of his Uncle, whom he knew to have abusive tendencies, and there was nothing he could do to protect him.

Moody and Tonks had returned a few minutes prior with no news on Harry’s whereabouts.

“Where could they be?” asked Mr. Weasley, feeling just a little desperate now. They had to be somewhere. Why couldn’t they find him?

He noticed Severus was beginning to grow frustrated at their lack of any news. He couldn’t blame him, either. Everyone he could possibly spare had come out to help find Harry Potter, and yet still no one had seen hide nor hair of the boy. Where could he possibly be?

Severus’ still form had taken to pacing the sidewalk, nearly wearing a permanent groove into the pavement, it seemed. He suddenly turned on his heel and faced Dumbledore.

“Severus,” Albus started gently, trying to placate the man, only to be cut off.

“No, Albus. Nothing you say right now will possibly make me calm!” he spat, knowing the man’s ways and that voice. He was as far from calm as was humanly possible. “My son is out there with that man,” he hissed the word. “And you know as well as I do that when we find Harry…” he abruptly stopped talking, unable to voice his fears…that it was quite possible Harry would be seriously injured. That the boy was alone, without anyone to help him, and was probably in pain at this very moment nearly brought down all of Severus’ carefully placed barriers. He kept picturing in his mind what Vernon Dursley could be doing to his son…hurting him, hitting him, inflicting harm with his hateful words. “We have to find him!”

“We will, Severus. Mark my words, Harry will be found, and retribution will be swift and painful for that man if he has hurt a hair on that boy’s head. I can promise you that!” stated Dumbledore emphatically. It was in moments like these that everyone present could see just how powerful and frightening the headmaster could be. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of that anger.

Severus nodded, but refused to make eye contact. They had searched the entire area and then some, but no one had seen his son. No one had seen Vernon Dursley. Severus roughly pulled his hand through his black hair; his facade was beginning to wither as his stress grew. Suddenly feeling restless, he began to walk aimlessly, any child with black hair seemingly calling out to him as they past. But, it was never Harry; it was someone else’s child, safe in their parent’s protective embrace, where his own son should be. He turned towards a large building down the street, and stopped in his tracks as he saw someone belt around the corner in their direction, nearly slip and fall as he used his hands to regain his balance, only to run full hilt down the sidewalk, limping as he went.

At first he hadn’t been sure, but as the small, disheveled form grew closer, he knew for certain who it was. “Harry!” he bellowed.

……………………………..

Harry ran blindly. Not paying attention to his surroundings, hell, he didn’t even know where he was. His only thought and instinct was to get to his father. He would be safe in Severus’ arms, if only he could find him. Breathing hard, tears still streaming unchecked down his pale cheeks, Harry fled from his attacker. Glancing over his shoulder, he was thankful to not see the big hulking form chasing after him. Hopefully, he was down for the count and would remain there. Harry didn’t know what he would do if he saw his Uncle again.

His entire body ached and his ankle was killing him. He’d somehow sprained it as he’d flown from the car in his haste to escape, and the constant pressure put on it from running only made it hurt all the more. But, he wouldn’t stop, not until he was safe.

Still unsure of where he was, but unwilling to stop to ask any of these shady looking people for directions, Harry ran as fast as his legs would carry him. A few people tried to stop him, probably to try and help, but Harry flew by without stopping, screaming in fear if someone so much as laid a hand on him. They’d stopped then, thankfully, allowing Harry to run freely. But, he was still lost with no idea how to get back to the Leaky Cauldron. And he was so scared. It was long past four in the afternoon now, he could tell from a brief glance at his watch. He briefly wondered what his friends were doing; how things had gone when they’d told his father he’d been kidnapped by his…Unc…Vernon. He couldn’t stand to even think of the man as his Uncle, as his family, especially now that he’d remembered all those things he’d tried to forget. He shuddered at the memories and violently pushed them to the back of his mind. He wouldn’t think on it.

He desperately wanted to find his father. The streets around him still remained unfamiliar and Harry’s heart raced painfully inside his chest. Where the hell was he? He glanced around in every direction, coming to a hesitant stop in front of a small café on the street corner. There was an older gentleman sitting outside underneath an umbrella, reading a newspaper. He was the only one there, and the café seemed deserted. Tentatively, he approached the man and stood in front of him, waiting for him to acknowledge his presence. Finally, the older man looked up and smiled a crooked smile.

“Can I help you, boy?” he asked. He seemed pleasant enough and Harry felt the man wasn’t any type of threat, even though Harry himself was feeling very insecure at the moment. He’d ask and get out quickly.

“S-sir, do you k-know where Longheart’s Bookstore is l-located?” he asked, his nerves causing him to stutter. He knew if he could find the bookstore they’d visited earlier, he’d be able to get back to the Leaky Cauldron fairly easily.

The older gentleman slowly lowered the newspaper as he finally got a good look at the boy in front of him. He looked absolutely horrible, bruised and bloody; his shirt ripped to shreds and was looking rather lost and hurt. “What happened to you?” he asked, standing up quickly to assist the boy.

Harry immediately stepped away as the man tried to come towards him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, reaching out to pull Harry towards him. It was the wrong thing to do, he realized, as the boy’s eyes grew large and fearful and he jerked away. “Hey!” he yelled as the boy was suddenly running away from him. “The bookstore, lad!” he yelled, causing the boy to come to a stop a few feet away. “It’s just down the road about half a mile from here. Look for the big blue sign!” he yelled as the dark-haired teen ran from him. He sighed as the boy disappeared from view, hoping he’d find his way.

Harry was running again, his thoughts wild and erratic. He could sense someone behind him, but looking back, no one was there. The old man was gone, the café long out of sight, so where was this feeling coming from? He stopped once more, in the middle of the street, and looked distractedly down all the side roads. It was eerily quiet and Harry suddenly felt a strong urge to start running again…as if his very life depended on it. He saw a dark shape down the road behind him, in the shadows, and Harry nearly screamed as he realized who it was.

No, no, no, his mind screamed as his Uncle came charging up the road, having been spotted. He’d been hurt, how was he running like that? It should be impossible. Harry’s magical surge should have left him unconscious at the least. Obviously not, as the man was gaining ground on the limping boy.

“No, no, please no,” he whimpered to himself, no one else was around to hear him. He saw a large building in front of him, and just above that, he saw a big blue sign. He let out a desperate sob at the sight. He was almost there! The pounding feet behind him sent him into an extra burst of speed, frantically trying to reach his father before that man laid another finger on him. He wouldn’t be able to stand it. Just as he was about to reach the edge of the large brick building, he felt something grab the back of his shirt, nearly knocking him off his feet and he was wrenched backwards. He let out an involuntary scream and fell to his knees, at the same time yanking his shirt out of the man’s hands. Instantly on his feet again, he flew around the corner of the building, his heart racing, tears streaming once more down his pale cheeks, his ankle hurting worse than ever, but Harry managed to ignore it. He nearly tripped as he turned the corner, scrapping his already sore palms on the pavement, and then he was up and moving again. And then he saw him.

And his father saw Harry.

“Harry!”

The sob escaped his lips as soon as he saw his father. He needed him so much, and as his father’s eyes widened in shock and rage, he knew the man had seen his Uncle chasing after him. “Dad!” he screamed, his legs on the verge of collapsing beneath him. ‘Dad, please come get me.’

As if reading his thoughts, Severus bolted towards his son, flanked by the Order and Harry’s friends’ just behind.

The state Harry was in sent each person there into a rage. Especially Harry’s reaction when he finally reached his father.

“Dad, Dad, Dad!” he screamed, and finally Severus was there, grabbing Harry under the arms while lifting him into his warm, safe, embrace. Harry hung limply, his arms clenched tightly around Severus’ shoulders, as he screamed into Snape’s neck. No words, just screams, as he yelled out his fear and adrenaline.

Vernon Dursley never even saw the mass of Witches and Wizards as they descended on him. All he saw was his nephew. And all he wanted to do was hurt him for ruining his life. He reached for the boy but never got any further than that, as suddenly a bright light came flying at him, striking him in the chest. He flew backwards for the second time that day, and landed on the hard sidewalk. Looking up, he finally noticed the predicament he was in, and his eyes grew fearful as the group of menacing freaks descended upon him.

“He deserved what he got!” he bellowed, crab walking backwards, trying to get away from them all. His hateful words only served to enrage the group further and he tried fruitlessly to gain his feet, but his rather large frame wasn’t allowing it very well.

“How dare you do that to him!” shrieked a robust woman, stalking up to him, a wand trained at his head. He cringed at the fierce looking woman, and the others surrounding her. “You’ll pay for hurting him!”

Another man came up and discreetly cast another spell on the man, causing him to scream in agony.

“Moody!” yelled Minerva, allowing the indecent act for one moment longer; the bastard deserved it, before pushing his wand down. “He’ll go to Azkaban for this, where he belongs,” she stated firmly. It wouldn’t do to have charges brought up against them, though she doubted anyone would really mind if this cretin was brought forth a little worse for the wear.

A tiny shout brought their attention back towards Severus and Harry, causing a new wave of anger to fill them as they realized what was going on. The smug smile on Vernon Dursley’s face was cause enough for another painful hex to be sent his way.

Fred, Ron, and Hermione were standing a small distance away from Severus and their best friend. Fred had tried to gently touch Harry’s back, only to result in the teen flinching violently and crying out in fear. Fred instantly pulled his hand back, looking horrified.

“Harry?” he asked, stepping closer.

Severus shook his head and pulled Harry closer to him. He wondered why Harry was only allowing him to touch him, but at the moment, he was just glad the boy was letting him. He looked across the street where the other members and a few of the younger Weasley’s were keeping Vernon Dursley securely at bay. “I’m taking him home,” he said quietly, a glare already in place as he met eyes with his son’s supposed family. He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“Have fun fixing him,” Dursley said hatefully, but a swift kick in the face shut him up. Severus couldn’t tell who had struck out, but was thankful that they had, as Harry had tensed up in his arms at the sound of his Uncle’s voice.

“It’s all right,” he whispered into the teen’s ear, and quickly ushered Harry’s friends ahead of him. “Let’s go.”

He left the others to deal with the scum still lying on the ground, moaning pitifully at the pain in his face. Severus wished he could cause the man more pain, as his son’s appearance left nothing to the imagination. He’d beaten and strangled his son, among other things, leaving red marks that would soon turn into bruises. He barely stifled his rage, fearing he’d only scare Harry more if he sensed his father’s anger. Holding his son closer as he hung limply in his arms, his feet dangling down near Severus’ knees, he turned away from the disgusting man and re-entered the Leaky Cauldron.