Disclaimer: All the characters within this story belong to JK Rowling. I just write for fun.
Harry stared out of the window in the back of his Uncle Vernon’s car. The June sky was clear and sun was just beginning to sink in the sky. Uncle Vernon’s rant about the wizards outside platform 9 ¾ was surprisingly short. Apparently Mad Eye Moody had gotten the point across. Uncle Vernon’s size usually gave him the upper hand in intimidation, but Moody’s gnarled appearance, his magical eye, and his magical prowess had given him the upper hand. Moody had just successfully bullied the bully.
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were chatting about money, perhaps buying a summer house, and Dudley’s tuition for his university education, and then the conversation took a rather bizarre turn.
“Dudley,” Uncle Vernon began in a calm voice, “what is going on with your marks at school?”
Harry turned his head to glance at Dudley, who turned slightly pink. “What you do mean Dad?” Dudley asked.
“Son, every phone call you made, every letter you sent, you told us that your marks were fine. We just got your school report today,” Vernon said in a forced calm.
“Er… Yeah, my marks were fine,” Dudley said in a defensive tone.
“Dudley, according to your report, your best mark was a C, and you received an E in your mathematics course.”
Dudley became extremely defensive, “yeah,” he said defiantly, “my marks are fine. I passed everything didn’t I? There were no U’s.”
“Passing is not enough. You need better marks and good test scores if you want to go study at a university,” Vernon emphasized.
“Well, I don’t want to go to a university.”
“I have a university degree,” Vernon said gruffly, “and so does your mother. The only ones in our family who didn’t study at the university level were Harry’s parents. And you will damn well not end up like them.”
‘Like that’s likely,’ Harry thought, still staring out the window.
Dudley bristled like a cat and retorted, “Harry’s not going to a university. He goes off to some loony school. You couldn’t make him go to a regular school, and you can’t make me go to a university either.”
Harry decided that this fight, like the many he had heard from Ron and Hermione the previous year, wasn’t worth entering. Dudley was trying to drag Harry into the fight in order to shift the attention from himself. It was an old tactic, and Harry wasn’t going to take the bait. He continued to stare out the window, where the sun was slowly sinking creating a beautiful red tone across the evening sky. But the mood in the car was getting very chilly.
Uncle Vernon retorted angrily, “Harry is a freak, and whether I want it or not he belongs with those… people. I wash my hands of him. He’ll end up as worthless as his dead parents. You, on the other hand, are not worthless. You need to get your marks up to get into a good university.”
Harry let the words wash over him. Somehow the spot in his mind where Sirius used to be felt more hollow. He let the hollowness wash over him.
To his right, Dudley fumed, “I am not going to study at a university. I’m not going. You can’t force me. It’s not my fault I get bad marks, my professors hate me.”
“Dudley, your professors are not the problem. They understand that you are struggling; they want you to get into a good university. They have sent home a program of instruction to follow this summer. If you complete it, they will change your term marks. They are giving you another chance.”
“I’m not studying in the summer. Summer is supposed to be fun,” Dudley pouted.
“You will study this summer,” Vernon said angrily, “You will improve your marks.”
“No! I won’t waste my summer studying. Mum, please. I just want to relax and have some fun with my friends,” Dudley tried reasoning with his mother instead of his father.
“Dudley,” Vernon continued, “your mother isn’t going to get you out of this. You have to improve your marks. You will spend every morning studying, and then you can do what you like in the afternoon.”
“But what if I want a lie-in? Mum, come on, please?”
“Dudley,” Petunia said soothingly, “you need to study. If you study in the morning, you can have a special morning snack, whatever you like.”
Harry thought through his hollowness that Dudley must still be on his diet.
This last statement of Aunt Petunia’s seemed to placate Dudley somewhat and he didn’t reply, but he stared angrily out the window.
“You still can’t make me go study at a university,” Dudley said quietly after a few minutes. “I’m not going and there isn’t anything you can do about it.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Vernon replied as he pulled into the driveway. The family all got out of the car and Vernon unlocked the car trunk so that Harry could retrieve his belongings. Someone was waiting in a car across the street. As Harry was digging his trunk out, the man started to walk toward them.
The man was wearing a hat, a suit, and a long coat. Harry glanced over at him warily, it was about ninety degrees, and he was overdressed for the weather. The man glanced at Harry before calling, “Vernon, Vernon Dursley.”
Uncle Vernon turned and looked at him. “Yes, I’m Mr. Dursley, who are you?”
“You don’t remember me then?” the man asked.
Harry palmed his wand in his back pocket. This man seemed like trouble, and Voldemort had many agents, Moody’s words, “Constant Vigilance” came to mind.
“Should I?” Vernon said forcefully.
“Perhaps you don’t remember me, but I remember you. You got me fired from my job last year. I’m Ned Rivers, from the Product Design group.”
“Oh yes, I do remember you now. Your design malfunctioned, lost us tens of thousands of pounds,” Vernon replied.
“You never should have sold it to them in the first place. It was never designed to hold those tolerances. You went against the design and went ahead with the sale despite my warnings. Then you convinced the Vice President that was my fault. I can’t find another job. I lost my house, I lost my wife to another man, and I lost my dignity, having to live with my parents. It’s your fault. You are going to pay, you and your family.” The man shot a look to Harry and then to Aunt Petunia and Dudley by the front door.
“Don’t threaten me, Ned Rivers,” Vernon shot back. “It was your fault. That drill was bound for failure no matter who bought it.”
“No it wasn’t. You set me up. This is your fault. And you are going to pay.”
The man called Ned Rivers pulled a gun on Uncle Vernon. Despite all of the recent events in Harry’s life, he wasn’t prepared for an armed gunman on the driveway at Privet Drive. He quietly started to pull his wand out so that the gunman couldn’t see.
Vernon looked startled, scared and for once in his life speechless.
Ned Rivers seemed to be growing larger with confidence. “Not so brave now are you. Tell me you’re sorry.”
Vernon was paralyzed with fear and couldn’t say a word. Harry was still slowly pulling his wand out without the gunman seeing.
“I said,” Ned raged, “Tell me you’re sorry. Tell me that you’ll give me anything to live, just don’t shoot. Tell me Vernon, tell me.” The gunman, still looking at Uncle Vernon, absentmindedly pointed the gun at Harry and shot him.
There was a large BANG and the acrid smell of gunpowder in the air. Harry stumbled back into the car. His right leg gave out, causing Harry to flail widely around for something to grab on to prevent his fall. He managed to catch himself on the bumper, before he hit the ground. Using the car, he pushed himself back up to his feet, and went to stun him, but he almost fell again. His leg wouldn’t support his weight. He looked down. His jeans were soaked in red sticky blood.
Balancing on his one good leg, Harry raised his wand and yelled, “Stupefy.” Harry was off balance. The spell went wide, and just grazed the gunman. It appeared that he didn’t even notice. He was still ranting, “Tell me you’re sorry. Tell me you’ll give me all your money,” he shot at Vernon’s pocket where he kept his wallet, “Tell me you’ll give me your family,” he shot again at Harry, and then toward Petunia and Dudley, standing rooted in the driveway, “Tell me you’ll give me your car”, he shot the car.
The noise was deafening. Harry stumbled again into the car but he couldn’t catch himself, and he fell to the ground with a dull thud. Harry recovered quickly and pushed himself to his knees. He took more careful aim and yelled “Stupefy”. This time the spell hit the target and gunman fell to the ground unconscious, but he was in act of firing and the shots went wild. Aunt Petunia started screaming.
Harry looked down at himself and realized that his shirt was becoming wet and sticky. He reached down to touch his side, where there was a dull ache. He pulled his hand away and it was covered in blood. The dull ache turned rapidly into full blown pain. Harry winced and then looked around for help.
Uncle Vernon was lying sideways on the ground, bleeding freely from several wounds. Aunt Petunia seemed unhurt, and was kneeling down next to him. “Vernon,” she screamed and started shaking him. “Vernon, Vernon,” she chanted over and over again.
She turned from Vernon and looked over at Harry. Harry reached out for her, with his bloody hand, “Aunt Petunia?” He said quietly. He started to feel very week, and slid back to the ground. She hurried over. “Harry,” she screamed, “Harry. No… NO!” Petunia hurried back to Uncle Vernon sat down on the driveway between them and she sobbed.
Harry was still conscious although he was seeing black spots. He felt his strength slowly leaving him as he bleed freely. He thought ironically ‘famous Harry Potter survived the worse dark wizard of all time only to be killed by Muggle madman in his own driveway.’
There were loud noises coming from somewhere, and then he heard a loud CRACK. Harry looked up to see Lupin standing over him. “Oh my God, Harry,” Lupin exclaimed. Aunt Petunia looked up startled at Lupin’s unexpected appearance and began to sob harder. Lupin bent down over Harry, and surveyed him quickly. “Harry, can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” Harry managed in a whisper. The pain was almost unbearable. His leg felt like it was on fire and his stomach was worse.
“We are in trouble,” Lupin began. “Very big trouble.” Lupin mumbled an incantation and did something with his wand. “I’m calling for help. There will Death Eaters here any moment.” Lupin mumbled a few other spells that Harry couldn’t make out, but it seemed to slow down the bleeding. “That should stabilize you. Stay awake, Harry, you hear me… you stay awake.”
Harry heard several CRACKs and other wizards started appearing from all around them. The all wore death eater masks. Lupin stood over Harry. The spots were increasing in Harry’s vision and the pain was increasing. Harry was teetering on the edge of consciousness.
The Death Eaters approached. Lupin glanced between Harry and Petunia. Seeming to come to a decision, Lupin moved to stand himself firmly between the Death Eaters and Petunia, leaving Harry lying on the ground exposed.
The first Death Eater shot a spell at Harry which bounced off some kind of invisible shield. The other Death Eaters followed suit. The spells bounced off Harry and shot all over the place, hitting houses, cars, and one of the Death Eaters. It looked like a bizarre fireworks show.
One of the Death Eaters shouted, “We can’t touch Potter. Get the woman.”
Lupin was ready. “Protego” he shouted putting himself between the Death Eaters and Petunia. Lupin’s shield was blocking the spells toward Petunia, but he was outnumbered 10 to 1. Harry watched him stumble. He was still protecting Petunia from the onslaught of spells.
The noise level increased and Harry was aware of police cars pulling toward the house. Police officers ran into the fray. The Death Eaters changed targets and started shooting spells toward the officers. The officers were trying to attack Death Eaters physically, using night sticks and tazers. The Death Eaters were sending all sorts of curses their direction.
It gave Lupin a short break. Using what strength he had left, he picked up Aunt Petunia and heaved her back behind the car out of danger. Harry however was still lying in the middle of the driveway in the middle of the fray. Lupin saw Dudley crawl around the back of the car. He grabbed Harry foot and slowly pulled him away from the battle threatening to overtake him.
Harry was aware of himself being dragged, and looked up dazed to see Dudley. ‘Dudley’s helping me?’ he thought blearily.
Dudley slowly pulled Harry toward him until Harry was safely underneath the car. He crawled over to where Harry’s was lying and said, “You’ll be safe here, Harry. Hang on, the ambulance will be here any minute.”
There were a huge number of sharp cracks in the air, announcing the arrival of at least thirty more wizards. Harry view was now mostly blocked, but he saw Kinsley Shacklebolt and several other wizards he wasn’t familiar with running toward the Death Eaters.
It was chaos. From what Harry could tell, the police officers weren’t sure who they should be attacking. The wizards were dueling each other, with officers darting in between beating up on whomever got in their path. Several more loud sirens approached and there were more police officers arriving by the second. The more muggles appeared; the wizards appeared, until there were at least sixty people in the fray.
The noise was incredible. There were sirens, yelling, screaming, thuds, and spells being cast. It was an amazing light show as well. The spells, the lights of the police cars, and something that looked like a fire were lighting up the evening sky. And then Harry saw it, the Dark Mark overhead in the sky, hovering over the battle.
It seemed to be winding down. More cracks were heard as the remaining Death Eaters apparated away. Some wizards quickly ran toward the fire, while the others started stunning police officers. This started another fray between the police officers and the remaining wizards.
Someone appeared at Harry’s shoulder. It was a Muggle medic, carrying a hospital bag. He said gently to Harry, “Can you hear me, son?”
“Yes,” Harry grunted.
The medic began to place bandages on Harry’s leg and stomach while he was still lying under the car. The pain was unbearable. Harry screamed and shuttered. The medic said soothingly, “It’s okay, you’re going to be alright, just have to stop the bleeding. What’s your name kiddo?”
“Harry,” he answered.
“Hello Harry,” the medic continued calmly, “I’m just going to place an IV in your arm. It will help stabilize you from the blood loss. So, is this your house?”
“Yeah,” Harry grunted as the medic stuck a needle through his skin into a vein and connected a tube. “My Aunt’s and Uncle’s.”
“Where are your parents?” the medic asked while he was attaching a bag to the tube.
“They’re dead. They were murdered when I was baby.”
“You’re not especially lucky are you,” the medic said dryly. “How much to weight you suppose?”
“About 70 kilos”
The medic looked around and saw Dudley crouching nearby. “Hey kid,” the medic yelped. “Help me get him out of here, the ambulance is around the corner.
Dudley answered the medic panicked, “But my Dad, what about my Dad?” Dudley gestured toward where his father was lying.
“My partner is working on him, we’ll need a stretcher to get him out of here. If you help me, we can get Harry loaded and then get back with a stretcher for your Dad. Between the two of us we can get him loaded without a stretcher. It will save time.”
Dudley nodded. Harry felt himself being dragged out from under the car and hoisted up between the medic and Dudley. They hurried back around Privet Drive and Harry was quickly loaded into a waiting ambulance. As soon as Harry was loaded the medic grabbed a stretcher and he and Dudley were off again.
The medic called back over his head, “Call in for back-up, we’re going to need more ambulances, and then get going, he’s critical. We’ll load the other victim in the other ambulance. Go.”
Harry still clung to consciousness as another medic worked on him. The ambulance started to drive slowly away. And then after a few seconds the siren flipped on and they speed away from the scene.
The new medic was a woman. “What’s your name?” she asked while elevating the IV bag.
“Harry,” he said woozily. His vision began to swim slightly and stars seemed to flash around the periphery of his vision.
“What’s your last name?” she asked.
“Potter.” Harry croaked.
“What are your parents’ names?” she continued.
“James and Lily Potter.”
“What’s your home address?”
“Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.”
“What do your parents do for a living?”
“They don’t, they’re dead.”
“Who do you live with then?”
“My Aunt and Uncle. It was their house that this… happened.”
“I see,” she said, “What’s your phone number?”
Harry gave his phone number more woozily and then winced as his side gave a stab of pain.
“How old are you?”
“Fifteen,” Harry quietly replied, as though he were very far away.
“Stay with me Harry. Keep talking. Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No,” Harry answered, a little more lucidly.
“Any prospects?”
“Not likely, except… “ Harry drifted off…
“What Harry?” the medic said sharply. “Except what?”
“Hermione. Granger. Hermione Granger, she from London, she lives with her parents… Would you contact her when we get to the hospital?”
“Not your girlfriend though?”
“No, my friend…” Harry eyes drifted shut. “Please contact her. Tell her where I am. It’s important.”
“Alright, I’ll see that it gets done.”
Harry didn’t answer.
“Harry,” she said sharply, “Harry… stay with me.”
“Yeah…” Harry mumbled. “I’m here.”
“What’s Hermione’s phone number? I can’t get a hold of her without it.”
“I don’t know…” Harry drifted out again. The pain seemed to be lessening. “Pain going…” he mumbled.
“That’s the morphine kicking in. You’ll feel much more comfortable in a minute.”
“Okay…”
“Who are Hermione’s parents? You need to tell me. Harry. HARRY.” She spoke very loudly to him right in his ear.
Harry quietly told her their names. Then he drifted further. The pain was subsiding. “I can’t… stay awake…” He began to shiver.
“Just hold on, we’re here.” She covered him with another blanket and checked the dressings again. “We’re going to take you in to the ER now.”
Harry didn’t speak, the pain was almost entirely gone. They wanted him to stay awake. Lupin wanted him to stay awake. They moved him again into the hospital, where there were lots of bright lights.
Harry heard the medic speaking again. “Harry Potter, age fifteen, two gunshot wounds, one in the upper thigh, one in the lower left abdomen approximately thirty minutes ago, shock, lost significant amount of blood. I’ve given him fifty CC of Morphine, first bag of saline, lives with Aunt and Uncle, Vernon and Petunia Dursley. I’ve got the vitals written here”
Another voice answered, “He conscious though, that’s good.”
“Harry wants these people contacted.” She said handing a piece a paper over him. “More victims coming in, most likely the rest of his family. At least one more gunshot wound. Several officers were on the ground.”
There lights started to move and Harry realized he was moving again. The new voice said, “Harry, we’re taking you to the operating room. You’re going into emergency surgery to remove the bullets.”
“’kay…” Harry slurred.
Harry was wheeled into a room, and a new person began talking to him. “Harry, I’m John Wong, I’m your nurse anesthetist. Do you have any allergies? Are you taking any medicines?”
Harry just looked at him. The words registered, but he couldn’t answer.
“It’s going to be okay, Harry. I’m going to watch you through surgery. You’ll be okay. Dr. Hanne is going to operate on you. He’s a great surgeon.”
Harry nodded slightly.
“I’m going to put you to sleep now Harry.” A mask was lowered over Harry’s face and he finally drifted off into nothingness.