With reflexes developed over years as a Quidditch seeker, Harry dove to his right and rolled onto his back. When he heard the word “Crucio” uttered, Harry knew that his life was in jeopardy. He got to his feet as fast as he could; the spell that had been cast had hit the wall of the pit, dissipating into nothing. Harry quickly searched for the caster of the illegal curse, and his eyes fell upon a familiar, menacing figure.

Lucius Malfoy was standing ten feet away, with his wand pointing directly at Harry.

Fear struck Harry as he looked into the cold, lifeless eyes of the elder wizard. Malfoy was, by far, one of the worst Death Eaters in Voldemort’s army; and now he was after Harry. With all his will, Harry begged his legs to run, but he was frozen to the ground. His mind was the only thing working properly. Why was Malfoy standing here? He was supposed to be in Azkaban prison with a host of other Death Eaters. It was clear, though, that he had broken out.

“Quick as ever, eh Potter?” Malfoy said, with a sneer. “But no amount of speed can make up for what you seem to have forgotten.”

Harry was dumbfounded for a moment until his hand fell to his pocket, and he realized what Malfoy meant. He had forgotten his wand. Harry mentally kicked himself for leaving such a valuable item at home. He had hidden it under his mattress to keep his relatives from locking it up somewhere he couldn’t find it. Harry had been so adamant to hide his wand, he had left it there this afternoon. It was not that he was careless, it was just that he never suspected a dark wizard to be so bold as to attack him in a Muggle populated area.

This thought jarred Harry’s mind. Surely someone would see that he was being attacked and would stop to help; but all the people around him and Malfoy seemed to not notice. Lucius chuckled at Harry’s bewilderment. “They can’t see or hear you, boy. I’ve place a charm over this small area that will keep us from being disturbed.” As if to prove the point, a couple that had been about to walk in between the two, turned and walked behind Malfoy. “Now where were we? Ah yes.”

Harry knew he had little chance of escaping this encounter alive. He had no wand, and no way of getting help. Even if a Muggle had been keen to help him, Malfoy was a fully trained dark wizard. The situation seemed hopeless. Malfoy raise his wand above his head. “I shall surely be rewarded for this.”

“Avada…”

A Muggle in a blue button down shirt suddenly flung himself into Malfoy before he could finish the incantation. Lucius and the man fell to the ground, which was definitely noticed by the surrounding people. Either the charm had been broken or they had rolled out of the protective area. The man began hitting Malfoy with his right fist while his left hand was clamped around Malfoy’s wrist, keeping the wand pointed away from the scattering people. He began shouting “He’s Got A Gun!” over and over, forcing the last of the stragglers to flee for their safety. Only curiosity kept Harry from running like everyone else.

The mystery man rolled off of Malfoy once the people around them had cleared. Harry took cover behind a bench. The Muggle reached into his shirt and pulled out a wooden stick; a wand. This was no Muggle; he was a wizard. Harry’s heart leapt as he now had an ally against Malfoy. Malfoy made his way to his feet, his right hand covering his face where the other man’s hand had been hitting. “Who are you?” he scowled.

The stranger waved his wand and muttered an incantation that Harry could not understand. “You really should be more careful about keeping up your wards, Malfoy.” This man was an American. Harry had never met an American wizard. A group of policeman came running around a corner and headed straight towards Malfoy and the American. However, they passed right behind Malfoy, as the couple from earlier had done. “You wouldn’t want other people to see me hex the living hell out of you, would you? Besides, I doubt the Ministry of Magic would find it amusing that two wizards were dueling in a Muggle populated area. Cornelius Fudge gets annoyed at those kinds of things.”

The two wizards circled one another, keeping their wands pointed at one another. Malfoy looked beyond the American and smiled. Thinking he was about to be ambushed the American took his eyes away from Malfoy for a moment. A moment too long, for it was a feint.

“Impedimenta!”

Malfoy had made the first move. The American dodged the spell and countered. “Stupefy!” The spell shot wide to Malfoy’s left side, but it had been intentional. Malfoy was quick to move to his right, but too late to realize he didn’t have to. “Stupefy!” The second spell hit the Death Eater in the chest, but did only minimal damage.

Harry’s heart sank again. The stunning spell should have been enough to knock Malfoy to the ground, but it only took the wind out of him. Harry guessed that this guy must not be very good at spells. His confidence in his savior dropped even further when he saw the American hold his wand up to his face and start talking to it. “Don’t start acting up on me now,” he said. “I promise I won’t throw you into the fire again.” Again? Harry thought. This guy had to be mental.

In the lull, Malfoy was able to compose himself. He turned on his adversary. “Crucio!” The stranger made no attempt to avoid the spell. Instead, he simply made a horizontal slash with his wand at chest level. A barrier formed and deflected the unforgivable curse. Malfoy was shocked, more so that this seemingly novice wizard had formed such a strong barrier than the fact that the barrier could be formed at all. The stranger gave Malfoy a wide smile. “Stupefy!”

Harry knew that this spell was at full power. Before it could connect, however, there was a pop! and Malfoy was gone. He had disapparated. “Coward,” the strange wizard had said. He put his wand back in his shirt and turned to Harry. “You all right?”

Harry stood from behind the bench and nodded, too stunned by the events to speak. “Good,” the American said. “Come on, we have to leave before Malfoy decides to grow a backbone.” The boy didn’t move. “Harry, you can trust me. Dumbledore sent me.” This did a little to alleviate Harry’s apprehension about the stranger. If Dumbledore had the sense to trust this man, Harry surely could. He took a glance around the area. Everyone had left, including the Dursley’s, Harry’s only means of leaving this place. Harry had little choice but to trust this man.