Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, seriously.

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Hollow World

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Prologue

Potter,

I don't know where you are, or even if you're alive, but we need you. He's back.

Malfoy

The letter had been sitting on his window sill when he woke that morning, as he stretched and yawned he'd glimpsed it out of the corner of his eye his foggy mind uncomprehending, it wasn't till after his morning shower that he'd seen it for what it was.

Now Harry Potter sat and stared at the letter in his hands in bafflement, dread that he didn't understand had already settled in. There was a sense of familiarity at the corner of his mind, but he couldn't grasp onto it.

Who was Malfoy, and why did he need him? He felt an immediate twinge of dislike when thinking that name but dismissed it. And more importantly, who was He and why did his mere mention bring such dread?

He called in his resignation without fanfare, after all, when you've worked as a waiter for the past seven years in ten different cities it was hard to worry about employment.

He needed to find Malfoy to learn the truth.

****

Hermione Granger was sobbing as she crumpled in the darkest corner of her neat and orderly flat. A letter very similar to Harry's was clutched tightly in her hands. She didn't know why she was sobbing, was it the fear of Him or the strange relief and anger she felt reading the name Malfoy?

Not that she knew who Malfoy was or even Him for that matter. But she also knew that the bleakness that had filled her life for as long as she could remember had seemed to draw back just for a moment soon to be replace by terror surely, but that moment had been all she need to make her decision.

It was a good thing it was summer vacation for teacher's and students alike, she didn't want her students to worry after her.

She had to find Malfoy, before she broke.

****

Neville Longbottom sighed as he watched the letter burn in his simple fireplace. Why did a simple letter bring such potent rage, but no memories? He'd known for years that something was wrong with him. He'd never met anyone else that had no memories from before they were seventeen.

Despite that he'd still become a successful private detective over the last seven years in the busy city of London. And if there was one thing Neville couldn't do, it was give up a mystery.

He suddenly felt quite foolish for destroying his only piece of evidence. Well, he'd just have to search out this, "Malfoy" if wanted to know more.

****

Luna Lovegood hummed to herself merrily, she was the only one of the four who did not seem outwardly bothered by the strange letter she'd received that morning. But she understood the significance of it, at least more than the others.

Her dreams had told her of the danger to come and she wasn't one to doubt them. It wasn't the first time she'd had dreams that predicted her future, even though usually it had to do with spilling hot tea or tripping over a tree root. At the moment she was supposed to be reading the palm of the young woman in front of her, but her heart wasn't in it.

Her first thought had been to find Malfoy, but a voice in the back of her mind had spoken one name, Harry. So she would find Harry, a name that brought her more joy than she had ever felt. At least in her seven years of memories.

****

Later that evening Harry stepped off the train and walked quickly through the busy platform of King's Cross station, he didn't know why, but he'd felt an urge to come here.

Wading through the people he found himself drawn to the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Which was strange, it was just a barrier. His doubt didn't last long when he went to casually lean against it and found himself falling through. He stumbled backwards into what seemed to be another platform. A look back revealed a large archway reading, Platform Nine and Three quarters.

There was no one there. There wasn't even a train. He felt his hopes dashed as he wandered forward, maybe he could've found Malfoy if he'd taken the train here.

It was strange that he felt no fear or confusion at magically stumbling through a solid wall into a train platform, instead it felt right.

It was then he noticed that strange black wisps seemed to dance at the corner of his vision, disappearing every time he turned his head to look at them.

So many surreal things had happened in that day, and yet it was this that Harry found the oddest, there was something foreboding about it. He gave up trying to spot the mist after several minutes and instead walked further into the platform.

He heard and felt the rumbling long before he saw what caused it, he gasped when he did. A great crimson steam engine was pulling into the station, the words Hogwarts Express printed across the front.

The train was covered in the black wisps, and now that they weren't darting away from his vision he saw that that was what they were, wisps of black fog. He began to feel cold and alone, any happiness he'd felt at getting closer to the truth was sucked out of him.

The train pulled up beside him and one of the sliding doors opened in a eerie welcome. There was no one there. Harry steeled himself and stepped onto the train, returning to the world of magic that he couldn't remember.

A/N: So this is the first of my fic ideas, there will be more to come, if you want to influence which is continued review!