It was evening. Ginny and Luna were both squeezed into the same tiny armchair back at the burrow. Mr. Lovegood was reluctant to impose on them after he found out about Ron being missing but Mrs. Weasley insisted that both their daughters would be good company for each other and left him to sit with his wife, who was still unconscious, but stable. Ginny was holding the beloved toy hippogriff her brother had left with her in one hand and Luna's hand in the other. Luna was still slightly out of it from the calming draught they'd given her at St. Mungo's but the healers said she'd be back to her old self soon enough.

The two girls were very still. Ginny was too worried to talk and Luna was still in shock. The blonde girl gazed around the room listlessly. Her eyes found the little clock that her mother had admired. It had all nine members of the Weasley family on it.

Luna watched the little hand that housed Ron's picture. Currently it stated that it was traveling, but as she watched it started moving. Luna stared at the hand on the clock as it settled itself on a new destination. Her mouth opened, but she couldn't find the words to explain what she was seeing, so she nudged Ginny and pointed at the clock.

Ginny looked up and her mouth opened too, but she, like Luna couldn't even explain the ominous sensation she was feeling. So instead of speaking, she opened her mouth as wide as it would go and let out a scream of fear.

Bill, Charlie, Molly, and Arthur all ran into the room. They found Ginny crying and pointing at the clock. The blood vanished from Molly's face the second she saw her son's hand in the "Mortal Peril" position, and Bill put his arm around her to stop her from collapsing. Arthur had to steady himself by putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder. Charlie exchanged glances with his brother. This was bad, very, very, bad.

. . . . . . . . . . .

"Come on, Harry!" chirped Ron as the two ran across the train station. The pair had spent hours trying to find the place and the temperature had dropped a good fifteen degrees leaving both boys shivering. They had burned through all the food Ron had brought and the sun was beginning to set.

Harry caught up with his new friend easily.

The two came to a halt near a train guard.

"Hey, what platform is the next train to London at?" Ron asked the man.

The guy looked at them suspiciously.

"Why are you asking, where are your parents?" he demanded. The old man had dealt with more than his fair share of runaways before and his cold eyes scanned the pair suspiciously.

Ron floundered for a second. When the two had stopped into gas stations to ask instructions to this place they had claimed their parents were waiting in the car, but that excuse wouldn't exactly fly this time.

"We were going to see my Auntie off because she's going on a trip," Harry piped up innocently. "I needed to use the loo though and my cousin took me," said Harry, gesturing at Ron, "and now we can't remember how to get back to her and my Uncle."

The man's harsh stare eased up and his tone got a little friendlier.

"Oh, well, they'll be over on platform five, it'll leave in about half an hour."

"Thanks!" said Harry, and the two boys darted off.

"Stop by the ticket booth if you two get lost again!" the man called.

"Okay!" Ron yelled over his shoulder.

The two boys found the train just as it was starting to call for passengers. Ron and Harry both wished frantically that they could be invisible, because they could get on the train so much easier if no one could see them. Unconsciously, they both reached out with their magic until it connected with the other's and the pair soon deflected attention with out even realizing it. They thought it was their stealth that allowed them to slip into one of the luggage cars and hide behind a couple crates, but really their magic just made Muggle eyes pass right over them.

The two boys were both sitting still, waiting nervously until the time to leave the station came. Neither dared to say a word. They went so far as to clap their hands over their mouths because their own breathing sounded extremely noisy to them.

The two boys heard footsteps come into the compartment and they tried to make themselves as small as possible in their hiding place. They heard some rustling of clothes and shuffling of crates then silence. The train started moving not long after. Harry and Ron both breathed sighs of relief at their success in sneaking onto the train, but instantly tensed up again when they heard laughter.

"Told ya we'd make it," said a harsh, rough voice.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other in confusion as another voice replied.

"Yea, well, we still cut it pretty close this time. We need to make a dash for it as soon as possible when the train stops, who knows how long it'll take for them to find those guards, are you sure they didn't see your face when you knocked em' out?" asked a man with a sharp, quick manner of speaking.

Harry and Ron looked at each other with wide eyes. Ron, wanting to see just how many people were out there, shuffled to the left so he could peek through the gap between the crate he and Harry were hiding behind and the crate next to them.

There were two men there. They were wearing the uniforms of people working in the train station, but the clothes didn't look like they fit them right and they looked much too scruffy to really pass as train workers. The one with the rough voice wasn't tall, but he packed an intimidating amount of muscle. His hair was shoulder length and brown, and a tattoo peeked out from under his sleeve. His companion had a thinner build, but was very tall. He has greasy blonde hair, and a scar ran down his face.

Harry scurried over to where Ron was to take a quick look at the men as well.

His first thought was that these two men had the sort of scruffy appearance that his aunt and uncle always complained about.

"No worries, I got em' from behind, neither of 'em saw a thing," said the muscle man with the harsh, scary voice. "Didn't even stir when I stole their uniforms."

"You put em' away somewhere safe though right? They ain't gonna die of cold or nothin'?" asked the tall guy

"Yea, they're fine," said the man dismissively. "Would've been a lot less hassle if you just let me take em' out," the guy grumbled.

"You idiot, that's what got us into this mess!" the blond man said angrily.

"How was I supposed to know she was a cop's kid? All I wanted was her purse, if she hadn't of fought me I wouldn't of had ta kill 'er."

"I get that, but we can't escape as easy if we leave a trail of dead bodies behind. I still can't go back to Scotland without worrying about getting' nabbed for killin' my stupid wife. Police make less of a fuss if people are left alive. I told you this a dozen times!"

Both Harry and Ron stopped breathing. The pair exchanged horrified glances. These men were murderers, and worse, they talked about killing like it was no big deal, needless to say they were terrified.

Harry pulled himself away from the crack between the crates and tucked himself away more securely in his hiding place, pulling Ron along with him.

The two boys sat there, shivering, too terrified to move.

Harry felt the food that he and Ron had polished off about an hour ago churning in his stomach. He wasn't used to eating the rich cakes that Dudley got to have. He'd had been fine when he and Ron were looking for the train station, but now, in a bumpy train compartment with no windows and the added pressure of being in the presence of two murderers, his stomach was rolling around violently and Harry felt sickness bubbling up within him. He tried taking deep breaths, leaning heavily on the cool wall behind him

Ron was looking around the compartment, trying to find a way out. He saw a door that seemed to lead to another compartment. They could navigate towards there by hiding behind cargo, but they would still have a ten foot dash out in the open if they were going to make it to the door. Ron was so focused on planning an escape that he didn't spare the smaller boy so much as a glace until he felt a tug on the sleeve of his robes.

Ron frowned and inched closer to Harry so the kid could whisper in his ear.

"I'm gonna throw up," the kid whimpered, sounding scared out of his mind.

Ron felt fear welling up within himself as well. Throwing up was smelly, noisy, and worst of all, unpreventable. There was no way the two men wouldn't notice it if Harry got sick there in the compartment and there was also no was for Harry to really delay it.

Ron took a deep breath, refusing to panic, he was the big brother here, he had to take control.

"Alright, let's try and get out of here," Ron muttered, taking his queasy friend by the arm and leading him away. Harry stumbled, and knocked something over the boys froze, but after a few seconds they figured it was safe to continue. They managed to creep forward a few steps when they were suddenly hoisted into the air by their shirts.

"What've we got here," growled the muscle man," he turned to his blonde haired companion.

"These little punks have been eves' droppin,'" he said as Harry and Ron struggled fruitlessly trying to get away. The blonde watched the struggling pair emotionlessly.

"Well," he said after a minute. "You know what they say about curiosity and cats," he said, giving the man a nod.

Both Harry and Ron knew what that nod meant. Harry felt a spike of fear and he found himself hurling all over the psychopath that was holding him.

The man roared in disgust and threw Harry so hard that he sailed through the air and hit the ground, bounced, and slid a few feet before he stopped, unable to move from the pain and the lack of air.

Ron yelled in anger and reached up a skinny finger to poke the man in the eye. The man yelled in fury and Ron kicked him hard in the stomach. The man dropped him and Ron sprinted over to Harry, but was stopped by the blonde man pointing a gun right into his face.

Harry looked up from where he was lying and froze when he saw the gun in Ron's face. Ron however had never seen a gun in his life and didn't understand why the man was pointing it in his face. He kicked the man angrily in the shin and the guy jumped, his arm twitching to the side. The gun went off with a loud bang, and Harry screamed, as the bullet hit the floor. Ron was startled by the noise, but undeterred as the muscular man grabbed him by the arms and hoisted him into the air.

"You think you can scare me with some silly noise maker?" Ron bellowed, lashing out and trying to kick the blond man in front of him and the man that was holding his arms.

"The kid's a freak," said the muscle man in disbelief, "doesn't even care when you stick a gun in his face."

"You're the freak," yelled Ron, trying to keep their attention on him while he locked eyes with Harry, silently begging him to run. Harry didn't move though. Ron got a lucky shot in on muscle man again and the guy threw him against a crate.

Ron leapt right back up though, the fall was harsh, but no harsher than falling off a broom.

"Kid's freaking crazy, drop im' already Lance," said the blonde man in disgust.

Ron still had not figured out the purpose of a gun and simply glared defiantly as the man held it out towards him. His magic didn't put up a defense. It couldn't protect him when he didn't even know he was in danger.

Harry knew though. His eyes widened in fear and he reached his hand outward desperately. Chaos reigned.

The gun was knocked from the man's hand and he stared in shock. Not knowing what was going on the muscle man whipped out his own gun, but Ron was already running to Harry. Bullets flew behind him, but that didn't last as Harry made the gun fly out of the muscle man's hand as well. Muscles and Blondie growled and charged after the boys, who were almost at the door. They boys threw it open and saw…a balcony. In their panic they'd forgotten that they'd chosen to hide in the rear car. They were cornered; there was nowhere to run. The men were advancing, pulling out knives.

While Ron saw guns as a simple noise maker he understood the threat of knives. Instinctively he grabbed Harry and turned.

Diagon Alley, Diagon Alley, Diagon Alley.

Ron focused entirely on the first destination he could think of, not noticing the cracks coming from the compartment as wizards apparated straight to the source of Harry's first spell.

Ron spun the boy with him, pulling him into darkness. His hold on Harry was tight and Ron focused with all his might, praying that he wouldn't splinch Harry. He was fine if he got splinched but not Harry.,, They both felt a crushing pressure, they couldn't move or breath…

Buildings suddenly popped into view and the pair tumbled into a street. They took deep breaths, looking around. Harry was pale, disoriented and beyond confused, but Ron was grinning in relief.

We made it, was all he could think.

Back on the train Kingsley Shacklebot was not pleased. The ministry had just been informed that Harry Potter was missing and when they found a source of underage magic near the boy's home they had apprated straight there. They saw the bullet marks in the floor and saw that a door at the end of the compartment was open.

They heard the unmistakable crack! of apparition coming from the balcony but they couldn't see the source because two men were blocking their view.

When Kingsley did his report later he concluded that a pair of muggles whom he had identified with the muggle police as serial killers, had been attacking whatever underage wizard (probably Harry Potter) that had been on that train. They had arrived just as the wizard disapperated, which was worrisome as it implied that an older wizard had kidnapped Potter.

The muggles could not be brought in for questioning because when they had lunged at the boys and the boys disappeared…well, their momentum pitched them straight off the back of the train. Kingsley had managed to save them with a spell, but barely. They had to be rushed to St. Mungo's so their injuries could be healed.

This would have been good news normally; they would have woken the men up and questioned them about what happened. Unfortunately some idiotic newbie ministry obliviator had jumped the gun and modified their memories before they had a chance to do anything. Needless to say the guy was on probation, but he might as well have been fired because now he was on the 'I will make you miserable' list of everyone who was searching for Harry, plus some.

Kingsley sighed.

How can a nine year old be this much trouble?