More losses - 1

Harry nodded, feeling helpless. Some people had moved to the sides of the room and sunk to their knees with their hands above their heads, but the majority were running pell-mell, desperately seeking a way out. For the most part, the Death Eaters focused their battle on the Aurors and those firing spells, but still, plenty of innocents had been struck.

Harry, Ron and Hermione moved in the opposite direction, towards the glass door that led to the Apparition Testing Facility, trying to slip by unnoticed. Despite knowing that drawing their wands would attract the attention of the Death Eaters, they eventually began firing curses, trying to help some of the panicked victims.

Harry told several people with small children to seek cover and just stay down until the fighting stopped. Most were stunned when they realized who was speaking to them, anyway.

"Always know whether to fight or flee," Ron panted under his breath, and Harry suspected he was battling the same demons that Harry was. Despite knowing the odds, it was difficult to leave and allow this to happen.

As they reached the doors, Ron tried to pull them open to no avail; they were tightly sealed.

Aiming his wand, Harry muttered, "Alohomora." The doors remained closed.

"You!" a nearby voice shrieked.

Harry's head shot up, and he stared into his Aunt Petunia's horrified eyes.

"I might have known you'd be here when all the trouble started," she hissed, shaking visibly. "How are we supposed to get out of here?"

"Hello, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, clenching his teeth.

"Don't tell me this whole mess has nothing to do with you," Uncle Vernon said, regaining some of his blustering bravado. "From what I've heard, this thing seems to follow you, boy. What are you going to do about it?"

"I haven't got time for this," Harry said, pushing past his uncle. "Voldemort will kill you without a moment's hesitation once he realizes who you are. If you want to live, follow me."

"I'm a wizard, too, Potter. I can do anything you can," Dudley said, poking Harry in the chest, apparently put-out that his parents were turning to Harry rather than him to get them out of trouble.

"Then go ahead and save yourself, Dudders," Harry said, turning his back.

Something shadowy crossed Aunt Petunia's face. She grabbed Dudley's arm and lowered it. "Not now, Popkin. Let's just get away from here and these people. I won't have you dying for this; you're too special."

At that moment, Harry's scar erupted, and he dropped to his knees in pain. White-hot pokers pierced his skull, and he clenched his teeth to keep from screaming, biting his lip in the process. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, but the pain was too unbearable even to spit.

"Harry," Hermione yelped, dropping to her knees beside him.

"Hurry," Harry said, groaning. "He knows I'm here."

"What's all this namby-pamby dramatics about?" Uncle Vernon demanded. "You're wasting time." The fear and rising panic in his voice became more apparent with every word.

Ron roughly shoved him to the side and helped Harry to his feet. Hermione and Charlie began firing a wide array of spells at the glass, but found it impenetrable. Around the room, no one had had any success in breaking Voldemort's spell sealing the exits.

"I'm all right," Harry mumbled, clamping his teeth against the pain. He and Ron joined the others, trying to penetrate the glass.

"Potter!" a cold voice hissed behind them.

Harry turned to see Voldemort slithering toward him, a hungry gleam in his slanted eyes. "I'm pleased to see you came to witness my takeover of the Ministry. You should have informed me of your presence; I would have arranged better seating."