Hey everyone! This is Blaire here. I actually just came up with this idea and wanted to share it with you all. I hope you like this story, but I don't have a beta and this literally sprung from my head onto paper, unrefined. Thank you to everyone who read and liked my other stories. And please, review and tell me what you think.

Five years after the fall of Voldemort. Five years since Hogwarts was destroyed and rebuilt. Five years since the elder wand was snapped in two.

And five years since Harry James Potter disappeared from the wizarding world without a trace.

When the smoke had settled, when the funerals were over, when the celebrations had just began… he left.

"Hermione, would you like to say something?" Neville called to the girl as he raised his glass.

It was the first official celebration, held at Hogwarts after it had been rebuilt. All the deaths were ebbing away from their minds and the realization that Voldemort was really and truly gone was starting to sink in.

"Of course!" Hermione pecked Ron's cheek and scrambled to get up on a chair. Ron grinned as he watched her.

"I tell ya, mate," He whispered to Harry, "I could get used to normal life."

Harry laughed. Hermione looked around, at everyone, and began speaking.

"Everyone here, and I mean everyone, fought well. We fought brave, and even those who didn't use a wand to do it, fought with their hearts. We won, because none of us gave up. None of us once, ever, for a moment, gave up. We doubted, sometimes. Oh, did we doubt. But we stayed true. And we won. And now, everything can go back to normal. And let's thank the one person who really did win, a personal battle as well as a war. Harry, the boy who lived. To Harry!" Hermione raised a toast, and everyone else chorused, "To Harry."

Harry blushed. "Thanks, guys. It wasn't just me. You all did well."

Hermione sat down again, and everyone started milling about. Ginny came up to Harry and took his hand.

"I'm proud of you." She said, kissing his cheek.

Harry pecked her back. "Proud of me? Funny, I was going to say the same about you."

Ginny giggled and went to find her friends. Ron and Hermione sat close to each other, smiling.

Harry stood. "I'm just gonna pop off to the loo, I'll be back in a minute."

"See ya, mate." Ron said. They watched his disappearing back.

Later, they hadn't seen him for hours, but they weren't really worried. Hermione kept looking around, but Ron pulled her onto the dance floor.

"He's probably with Ginny." He reassured her.

After the party broke up, they all went back to the Burrow, even Hermione. Harry wasnt there, either.

He didn't show up the next day, or the next. Hedwig was still in his room, and weeks after she still remained there. His clothes were still on the floor and his bed was unmade.

They hired investigators. They used tracking spells. They sent ads into papers. Harry had simply disappeared.

His friends were distressed, they were heartbroken, they were worried, frightened, angry, hurt and most of all, they were confused.

Where had he gone? Had he been kidnapped? It seemed the only logical explanation. There were meetings between everyone who had known him, to try and remember any little clue. Ron, Hermione and Ginny even braved Malfoy Manor to find answers, though Draco, the only Malfoy left after the war, refused to see them. He was on house arrest and claimed it was their fault.

When the three had left dejectedly, Draco had sat in the windowsill and watched them go, stroking his dark mark. His parents had resisted arrest and were killed by Aurors, specifically Kingsley and Mad-Eye. Even though he hadn't been close to them, it was still shattering to watch one's own parents stunned and then executed.

He had vowed then, after his sentence of five years in house arrest had been decided, that he was done with attachments. He was just done. He wouldn't have parents, or relatives, or friends, or lovers. He was himself and he didn't mind.

So it was a surprise when, as the day came when his sentence was over, he walked outside and saw an owl waiting for him. The first owl besides the Minstry owl he had seen in five years.

Taking the letter and giving the owl a crust of bread, he put it in his pocket. Letters were second to fresh air at the moment, he decided.

Strolling in the garden had become a hobby of his during his sentence, but now he pushed open the gate and stepped foot outside the perimeter of the grass. Smiling softly, he apparated to Knockturn Alley. Pulling a cloak above his head, he went in search of the Twisted Alchemist, his favorite store.

He had had to send the house elves here to collect various ingredients, but now he went himself. The store hadn't changed a bit, even from before the war.

Hurriedly pulling specific ingredients off the shelves, he set them on the counter and purchased them with galleons. He was still a Malfoy after all, and with that name came wealth, and plenty of it.

Leaving with the ingredients, he apparated back to Malfoy Manor. Giving the bag to Knobby, one of his house elves, he took off his cloak and pulled the letter out of his pocket.

Plopping down on a comfy chair to read it, he tore open the seal.

Draco,

I'm sure that you are just as happy as I am that your sentence is now over. You have my full congratulations. Fortunately, this means that you could be of some significant use to me.

You see, I am, for lack of a better term, a fugitive. I am unable to come into town because my face is easily recognizable. Don't worry, I'm not an escaped prisoner. I'm not dangerous. Well, I suppose I am certainly dangerous, but so are you. I mean you no harm, is what I should have said.

My proposition is simple. You'll act as my representative. I'll tell you what I need to do, and you'll do it. I have many things in the wizarding world that need attention, but as I have already stated, I am inconvenienced.

Now, you are a Malfoy. As such, I know it is beneath you to act as a servant or answer to any higher being. You are very proud, and at this point are probably wrinkling your nose in distaste. Good, I'm glad your spirit hasn't diminished with all that time inside.

Indeed, Draco realized he was wrinkling his nose and set his face to it's normal, impassive look. He resumed reading.

I assure you, you will not be a mere servant. If it was mindless errands I needed done, I would do them myself under a hood. It's almost too easy to remain undetected these days.

What I'm talking about, total reconstruction of the wizarding world. But you see, politics bore me. I'd rather not sit in a stuffy room with a hundred others and spend years debating a certain small issue. And I'd hate to shove that onto you, too.

So, if you agree, we'll just do some underground work. Perhaps a certain prized artifact will be "misplaced," or a politician's house will be vandalized.

It may go so far as actual pain or murder inflicted upon people. I'm merely laying out the job description.

Draco, I know you. And believe it or not, you know me. Knew me, I should say, a long time ago. But I know things about you.

Katie Bell, for instance. I know what you did to her.

Headmaster Dumbledore, as well. I was watching, but you didn't see me. People thought Snape killed him, but I saw as you yelled the curse. And I saw you enjoy it.

Now, I'm not saying that you won't dislike everything I ask you to do. But it's for a greater purpose. And, here's something I know you'll enjoy, I want the Aurors behind bars.

That's just one goal. But it is a goal. And one you share.

If you're willing to carry out my instructions, no questions asked, then there's one way I'd know.

On July 31st, something very dear to the wizarding world will be on display in London. Harry Potter's invisibility cloak. As we all know, his room was left untouched when he left, so all of his belongings were still in tact. Somehow, though, a gap will open in the perimeter of the guard. Someone wearing a special suit, which I just so happen to own and believe I misplaced, could sneak through and steal the cloak while the exhibit is closed. If someone were to wear this cloak to the Twisted Alchemist on August 1st, they would find a reasonable compensation for their troubles.

Of course, I'm not suggesting you do such a thing. I'm merely pointing out a bit of fact.

I await your decision.

Griffyn

Draco put the letter down and leaned back in his chair. Obee, another elf, brought him some tea and he took it gratefully, thanking the elf.

Who could have known that he was the one to kill Dumbledore? Who could have seen him? Why would they pick the Twisted Alchemist? They must have followed him, he realized with a start.

Who was Griffyn? It was an alias, surely, but it gave little hint as to who the person was. Griffyn for Griffindor? Was that a clue as to the person's Hogwarts house? It was a student then. Someone he knew.

He certainly wouldn't do this, he sniffed. Servants' work, hah! Malfoys do not answer to anyone.

But his father had answered to the Dark Lord.

And so had he, unwillingly of course.

And he would need something to do while he was here. He had enough money to live quite comfortably, but he would get bored.

Maybe this wouldnt be so bad, Draco mused. Causing ruckus and mayhem, that's what he did best. And if it put Kingsley and Moody behind bars, even better.

He called for a calendar, and a house elf brought one quickly. It was the 24th of July, so he had exactly a week to make his decision.

Tipping over the envelope, something fell out of it. Unshrinking the item, Draco saw that it was a shimmering black set of clothes. Assassins' clothes.

Retiring to his room, he put the clothes on, including the hooded cowl. Looking in the mirror, he realized that he looked like a professional thief.

From head to toe, he was black. The fabric was sturdy but soft, and the boots made no noise when he walked. They were tall, coming about halfway to his knee. They had black buckles that matched the buckles on his belt. The pants were tight, and he blushed at how they made him look. The shirt had long sleeves and the gloves were fingerless. His cowl came down over his face, leaving one hole for his eyes. The hood was large and shrouded his face in complete shadow.

All in all, he looked good.

Taking it all off and replacing it with his normal clothing, he went to make potions to help his thought process.