Harry didn't need telling twice and raced off down the streets. He initially attempted to make for the safe haven of the public library but Dudley had taken a shortcut and gotten there ahead of him blocking off that safe zone, forcing Harry to run away in another direction until he was lost in the alleyways behind the small shopping area.
He found himself in the back of the supermarket wishing fervently that the door to set one side would open, but knowing he wouldn't be that lucky. Behind him Harry heard their voices as they rounded the corner. "You know it's been a while since we've had throwing practice Dudster, and the freak does make a good target!"
Harry cringed inside then desperately began to try and climb up over the little wall between him and the back of the supermarket. But Harry wasn't a very good climber never having had much practice and not having much upper body strength either. He was barely halfway up the wall when a stone caught him in the shoulder. "40 points right off the bat!" Dudley gloated behind him.
Harry winced as he fell to the ground, holding his shoulder in agony. He looked around desperately for an escape, but the four boys were standing in a row in the alleyways entrance, all of them holding small stones. Piers tried his luck next, and Harry dodged to one side. "Damn it, stay still freak!"
"Hah that makes it even better!" said one of the other boys whose name Harry didn't know. "Let's add 10 points to each hit we get when he's movin' around like that!"
"This is like an arcade game, only better!" laughed Dudley, throwing a stone.
Harry ducked again, hearing the whiz of the stone as it flew by his head, his eyes now widening in fear behind his glasses. Got to get away, got to get away! Have to get away!
After a brief argument about turns, the four boys in front of Harry all hurled their stones as one. Harry closed his eyes wishing himself elsewhere desperately with all the concentration he could muster in his fear-fueled state.
And suddenly he was. Harry collapsed to the asphalt in the small parking lot alongside the library. He was in an unused corner with a small tree in it, where Harry had fond memories of napping a time or two when Dudley was busy elsewhere. He stood up, shakily, and tried to move away from the tree he was leaning against only to frown when he looked down at his hand, which wasn't there!
Harry brought up his other hand to his mouth to hold back the scream as he saw that his hand was gone, old habits of holding in his cries in fear of getting punished worse coming to the fore. He began to hyperventilate, wondering what happened. How did, d-did I leave it behind? Is that even possible?
Suddenly he heard loud popping noises all around him, and odd man in very odd clothing, appeared. One of them pointed at Harry. "This must be the one George," He said, moving over to Harry quickly. "Worst case of accidental magic I've ever seen, whoever heard of a youngster being able to apparate?"
"We'll see what the other team has to say about that." The man so addressed said, moving over towards Harry with his hands held out calmly. "Calm down boyo, we're here to help you. Don't worry you'll have your hands back like new, Wood and Alders will fetch it quick, just keep calm okay? Don't scream, the more attention you bring, the more work you make for us understand?"
The voice wasn't angry or confrontational, simply matter of fact and somewhat sympathetic, though not as friendly as the first voice. Still Harry calmed down, taking his mouth away from his hand. "Yes sir."
He tilted his head up to look at the man, his hair falling back from his forehead for a moment and both men gasped. "Harry Potter!" said the one whose name hadn't been mentioned yet. "Well I guess that explains it then, though why were you trying to apparate?"
"Who's he staying with anyway?" said George scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Headmaster Dumbledore never said, no matter what the Wizengamot tried to threaten him with. All he would say was that he was safe, remember?"
At that moment there were two more pops and two more men appeared, one of them holding Harry's missing hand gingerly. Harry was astonished to note that the hand and his own arm looked as if they were simply taken apart like a Lego toy, there was no blood or pus or anything!
"Here's the lad's hand." said one of them, a large man with bull shoulders and a Scottish accent. "Poor bugger."
"What's wrong Wood?"
The man so addressed didn't respond just yet. Instead he moved through the other men, kneeling down in front of Harry. "We're you bein' bullied laddie?"
Harry hesitantly nodded his head and the man nodded back. He turned back to look up at the other man even as he held out his missing hand to Harry, pushing it against the stump of his wrist while addressing the men all around."There were four brats bigger than this young'un all of them holding rocks, and shouting out how 'the freak' went and disappeared on them at the initial locus."He said his tone grim. "Some blood on the wall of the alleyway they were standing intoo. They get you anywhere laddie?"
"My, my shoulder sir."Answered Harry hesitantly.
"Ach well,we'll deal with your hand first then your shoulder. By the by, is this the first time this has happened?"
"What do you mean Sir?"
"The bullying laddie." Scottish man said, holding Harry's arm gently while another man ran what looked like some kind of stick, or maybe a wand like in the books he'd been reading, along the arm there.
"Flex your hand and fingers for a bit, we need to know if it's connected right?" The man with the wand, George, said. Watching as Harry did so he smiled. "Good, now flex your wrist."Harry did so, and both men smiled. "Good, now for the shoulder."