Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, products, memorabilia, blah blah blah. Belongs to JK Rowling, her publishers, and blah blah-ty blah. I make absolutely no money by writing this.

Me: Is that good enough?

Lawyer: *nods head*

Me: Fantastic! Enjoy reading. :]

A/N: This was originally going to be a one-shot but it just got longer and longer until I was forced to realize that my fingers were itching to write more no matter what my brain felt. I'm sure my brain was just as much in on scheming than I feel like giving it credit for at the mo'. It's late! So after this, I shall go to bed.

Summary (of this chapter, anyway): It's been 2 years since the war and Harry Potter's disappearance. Rumors are just that, rumors. No one knows for sure if Harry's alive or not after he defeats Voldy, duh. :] Blair moves on and marries Malfoy, starts up a successful bakery in Diagon Alley, and finally confronts the stranger who's been roaming around near her shop.

Ill Prepared

Chapter One: Forget What You Know About Stranger Danger!

"Just what do you think you're doing?" He started. She wasn't meant to see him like this; being reduced to stealing.

A pathetic heap of bones is what she'd call me, he thought.

No one appeared to recognize him these days and those who did never got the chance to divulge that kind of information to a third party. But that was only accidental because his magic could behave outside of his control when he panicked.

She deserves better than to see me this way.

Blair had gone off and married Draco Malfoy two years after his disappearance; that's what he heard. Most claimed the disappearance was so he could vanquish the Dark Lord on his own. Hog all the glory, they said. His friends knew otherwise but never corrected anyone, not even what they told Blair when her customers gossiped inside her bakery. She was a firm believer in what she saw rather than heard. Except when it came to Harry, he always spoke the truth to her. Even when rumors flew about saying Draco was working among the Death Eaters again during the war, when in reality, he was kidnapped. The little bouts of uncertainty were there but they ceased when Harry said otherwise. Even today, whatever the young witch heard about her Harry, she refuted every single word because only he could confirm what they were saying about him. After the death of Voldemort, she had to wait days until the elder members of the Order deemed it safe to enter the grounds where Harry and Voldemort dueled head to head for the last time.

The two rivals' magic had a resounding effect on the foundation of the castle and any wrong step or misuse of magic resulted in serious injury.

The Daily Prophet said it belonged to the Dolohovs, an ancestral home that hadn't been used in three centuries but remained standing because of its magnanimity and value it held in pureblood society. That's the precise reason why the Dark Lord chose it; the answer pertaining to how Harry knew where he was hidden died with him. Snape suggested a time or two that the mind connection between him—Harry—and Voldemort might've never been severed at the end of fifth year after all.

**

THE DARK LORD MEETS HIS DEMISE!

By Augusta Striker

Harry Potter has done it! Just two days ago, the Wizarding World became rid of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or as some of our braver counterparts would call him, Voldemort.

There are rumors of a group of Death Eaters leaving Britain and fleeing to other countries after their Lord abandoned them. Fortunately, the Death Eaters who have been caught (and barely living) will be standing trial before the Wizengamot where they can be sentenced to receive the maximum for their crimes. This reporter, if she may say so, firmly believes the now deceased Lord's followers should go without trial and straight to our newly reconstructed Azkaban until their poor excuse for lives ended the same as their master's.

However, Britain has never been more at peace or happier.

Now, what of our Savior, you ask? I have been wondering this as well, like so many of our readers, and took it upon myself (as any great reporter would) to get answers from the people who knew him best and who participated in this bloody mess of a war: Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Remus Lupin...(interviews and more continue to page 4!)

Interviews with families who have lost loved ones on pg. 6

Blair flung the Prophet across the table in disgust. ″Funny, Blair snorted, Voldemort choosing an elaborate castle like theirs to hide in when he couldn't get into Hogwarts.″

The interviews were all right because Kingsley and the others had told the newspaper the truth, in a sense. In the aftermath of His fall, they didn't want to tell the public that Harry died along with him. So they told Augusta Striker that Harry was resting: taking down a powerful Dark wizard had exhausted his magic for the time being.

"Besides," Ron said, "he could just be missing, you never know. And since Hedwig died, he wouldn't have an owl to use when he wrote us. Taking Him down really would tire Harry out like we told the Prophet it would."

"I wish we could know for sure though. If Lupin and the others would hurry back then we could get to Dolohov's Landing and look for Harry!"

Hermione only worried her bottom lip, just as Blair had done earlier, thinking about badly Harry must be hurt. "Well, we know Harry. Ever since the war started he had to hone his skills, including logic, so he couldn't be hurt too much..." she suggested.

Blair sighed. "I wish I could believe that, Hermione, I wish I could." She pushed back her chair and walked off to the living room in Grimmauld Place. She ran into Kreacher in the hall: he looked happy? For one second, as disgusting as the thought was, she contemplated if house-elves could sense if their masters were dead or not.

No, she berated herself. He is not dead until you find his body.

A knock on the door startled her. Ron and a red, puffy eyed Hermione had come up from the kitchen as she went to answer the door. It was a rather dark night and although Voldemort was dead, he still had people who worshipped him roaming about. The knock sounded again: it was a coded knock that the Order members used when the teens were at headquarters. Blair opened the door and there was Lupin and Tonks.

"Wotcher, you lot. Are you guys all right?"

"As all right as we can be." Hermione mumbled from behind Ron. He grabbed her hand and pulled her around to see the two adults. Tonks closed the door behind her.

Remus drew out a long breath as he sat in a recliner in the Black library. The others followed suit as if it were second nature, and sat down across from him on the couch. Blair tried to make herself comfortable enough to hear his news but no kind of preparation could help anyone if they were about to hear troubling news, like someone's death.

Tonks sat down on the arm of Remus' recliner and rubbed his shoulder soothingly. Lupin looked off into the fireplace, away from the trio. Ginny and Molly in bed while the male Weasleys were at the Burrow. Draco was spending the night with his mother in a cottage the Order safeguarded for her just before the war had started. They could always be informed tomorrow.

"Right. I should inform you about what we found when we canvassed Dolohov's Landing. We didn't find Harry," he added, "not yet, anyway." The heart-stricken looks on Hermione's, Ron's, and Blair's face subsided. A little.

At the crack of dawn, Blair woke to the sound of Hermione and Ginny whispering. Half listening, she could hear them discussing what Remus told the older teens last night. "Morning," she greeted sleepily, "Could you two prats talk any louder?" Ginny and Hermione decided to help Blair along to the bathroom by pelting her with their pillows, giggling at her expense. Molly came by their rooms later to scold them, much to Hermione and Ginny's chagrin.

After a long breakfast, Draco and the male counterparts of the Weasley clan arrived in time for both Remus' and Snape's instruction and were told what was to be expected when they apparated to the Landing. Kingsley and other Order members would meet them there around 10.

Hearing the familiar cracks of apparition, Remus nodded for her to move on. The raw and defeated, yet resigned look on his face haunted her to this day. The man suffered enough casualties to last two lifetimes (even friends and family they weren't aware of) because of this war, yes, but Blair refused to be like him; her Harry could not be dead because he would have allowed her to die with him. They made a pact in the beginning to fight together as well as go down together, and Harry didn't break his promises.

Why would he start now, right?

Right.

Blair, Hermione, and Ron stepped tentatively onto the castle's lawn—remnants of the protective wards prickled the hairs on the backs of their necks. The grass had been singed to its roots and patches of soot were sprinkled haphazardly along the cobblestone path ahead of them. Ron sniffed in disgust as they all contemplated what they smelled next. Decaying flesh. Tonks, sporting hair of a vivid chartreuse, picked up a scorched twig. "Wotcher, guess this pile of ash was once a Death Eater. What d'you reckon happened here, Remy?"

A grunt is all she received in reply. If only she knew what disturbing thoughts had assaulted Lupin's mind when another Order member voiced the same question two days ago, when they last visited the site. He didn't want to relive the discussion they, the Order members, and the Aurors, along with Kingsley, had when they arrived as well. So, he kept quiet.

"Be careful!" he vehemently demanded, for Hermione had come this close to stepping on an Unforeseeable Mine—the equivalent of a Muggle landmine except it didn't detonate as a bomb would; it allowed the victim to stand there, immobile, subject to the most near fatal electric shock of their life as it literally boiled their blood until another wave of magic burst the victim's body into pieces, all within a matter of two minutes. And it was invisible but for the camouflaged ring hovering above the patch of grass. Remus could still feel the low hum of magic. "The mine is still intact. The effect of its magic may be minor but we won't risk that. Tread round it cautiously."

Blair followed suit and walked lightly around the trap and wandered through the large cedar wood doors and into the entrance hall of the fort. This action was indeed pointless because everyone was lead back outside; the walls and other parts of the building had been obliterated. Running her fingers along the broken bits of wall stubbornly standing, Blair felt the heat of magic embedded into them like a Warming charm. They came to a clearing, on their left, near the middle of the castle with space wide enough that it could've only been the Dining hall: brilliantly colored tapestries detailed with Dolohov ancestry hung raggedly onto walls, dried smears of crimson stuck determinedly to them, goblets were tipped over, some with wine and Firewhiskey still in them, the expanse of a pastel colored Persian rug had been besmirched with sweat, food, and more blood. Even cloaks had been left behind, littered over wing backed chairs and a bust of some Dolohov patriarch from long ago. Roosevelt, an Order member who Blair remembered was in his mid-20s, halted Ginny, Ron, and Tonks with a back sweep of his arm. ″It gets a little shaky here so watch your step,″ he answered to Ron's eyebrow raise, ″the floor'll cave in when you're not paying attention to your movements.″ He jerked his head over to a hole on their left, ″Collapsed right underneath me on my first try and I ended right up in the dungeons. You don't want to land down there, trust me.″ he explained.

Ron was the first to follow Roosevelt and Lupin. He gingerly took a step right behind them, satisfied that he didn't collide through the stone floor. Yet. Blair gave Hermione a small nudge in the small of her back when she hesitated to follow Ginny and Ron. ″Ron hasn't gone through the floor and he's bigger than all of us. Look, I'll go first if you want.″ Hermione licked her dry lips and whispered, ″Yeah, but I'm not afraid. I just prefer to handle situations that are more in my control, you know that.″

Yeah, I do, she thought. It's been that way ever since Harry left.

She nodded her head in agreement and gently tapped a toe onto the stone floor immediately to her right. It seemed all right to step on with both feet now.

Until the floor creaked beneath and decided to swallow her greedily like a starved Hippogriff for dead ferrets.

″Fuck. That hurt...″ the dungeons happily greeted Blair with as little light as possible and grazed her arms and knee while at it. Lovely. The tiny buzzing in her ears had joined the party as well.

″Blair! Are you all right? You didn't injure yourself too much?″

Thanks Ron. That was the most intelligent question I've ever heard. Saying this snide remark, however, wouldn't help her get out of the dungeons.

″I'm pretty sure I didn't break anything but I'll need assistance getting out of here,″ She reached for her wand which skidded across the floor and whispered Lumos for some much needed light. ″I'll survive with—″ She shut her mouth to prevent herself from screaming because she surely it would've woken souls living in even the bowels of Hell. Gluing her eyes shut hadn't kept the images at bay; they were already imbedded into her brain.

Blair blinked rapidly several times. Harmless anymore or not, Inferi were always going to be terrifying. Especially when one was unfortunate to stare dozens of them in the eye after falling into a pitch black dungeon that might as well been a basement just for dead bodies. Later, Remus told everyone that the Death Eaters still used the dungeon to hold prisoners as well as their evil, lifeless counterparts just for the hell of it when they wished to be entertained, which was at all times. Blair imagined she screamed the same way they did when she tried answering Hermione's questions of ″What is it? What do you see down there?″

″Bloody fuck, get me the hell out of here! Get me out! Get me out NOW! Inferi...Merlin, help me!″ The words still screamed an echo in her ears when she thought about it. She could still feel the hand of one Inferius that had slid across her broken ankle when she stood up too fast. However, she hadn't been prepared for the onslaught of a pile of bodies as they cascaded onto her after being knocked into by her back.

Harry had taken care to destroy the Dark wizards who conjured the Inferi to do their bidding first so he could concentrate on killing Voldemort when the time arrived. The former Slytherin knew that she would be dead by now if Harry hadn't done that. It didn't help ease the nightmares experienced for the better part of a week after that.

**

″Well?″ she demanded. ″I've seen you lurking about in the Alley, and I do not allowing stealing from my bakery.″

Harry gave her a garbled mumble in reply and started to leave Blair's storefront.

She released a drawn out sigh. ″Hey, its clear that you're in need of food and I can't bring myself to turn poor, hungry souls away like this.″ The bell above the bakery's entrance jingled as Blair led the stranger inside and sat him down. ″As a Malfoy, one can only have a reputation as a cold-hearted, business savvy bastard,″ she joked. ″Hold on for a minute. I'll wrap up some things for you.″ Bustling around behind the counter, she didn't notice her new friend remove the hood of his cloak.

″Hope you're not allergic to anything I've got here for you. Here are some bagels,″ she put out a tray of bagels: plain, oatmeal raisin, poppy seed, garlic, pumpkin, and cherry. ″Here are croissants, but I've made only plain ones so far. Oh, everybody loves donuts, so you can take a look at some of these. She pulled out another tray this time filled with croissants and assorted donuts. ″I have to warn you though, if you're not a fan of figs or prunes then you might want to steer clear of the last row of donuts on the right,″ she laughed.

Merlin, I missed her and her laugh.

″Oi! I honestly hope you haven't lost your sense of hearing.″

″What? No!" he interrupted. "I just remembered something, is all. I had, er, a friend who laughed a lot like you.″

″Hmm, what happened to the pair of you?″ she asked, putting down the assortment of pastries in front of Harry. Her new friend had some really blue eyes, they were so mesmerizing. She couldn't believe the pair of them belonged to a face like that. Not that there was anything wrong with his face; he was handsome for his age. He had muddy brown hair that reached his ears, eerie cerulean blue eyes, tanned skin. It was apparent he had been a laborer before he fell on hard times—his face lit up with faint freckles from the sun, and was a tad weathered around the edges. His stubble hadn't grown too much. He kept his face clean but his robes were torn in a few inconvenient places; Blair imagined she could patch that up with the few sewing charms she knew.

″…lost touch.″ Oh. Blair worried her bottom lip. Her newly acquired friend had been explaining what happened to a close friend and here she was, not paying attention. He was looking expectantly in her direction too.

She picked up a bagel spotted with cherries and bit into it. ″Er, I'm sorry. How did you two lose touch?″ she stuttered around a mouthful of the fresh bagel. She ranted when she was nervous and she knew she would've flung a dozen questions at him if her mouth had been to do so. It was an inconvenient habit to have around strangers she wanted to know more about, but Draco adored Blair for it and said it was one of the many reasons why he married her. She snorted silently to herself. He only adores that quality for the way I can make people feel small and insignificant when I ″demand″ answers from them.

″It happened all of a sudden. I would have prevented our falling out if I could but it's a bit more complicated than that.″ Blair straightened her back and listened intently. This guy sounded so depressed. She couldn't but place a hand on his wrist to console him. Even the heart wrenching blue in his blue blue diminished some.

″I understand. I had a... best friend whom I've had a sort of... falling out with. I don't even know if she was your best friend. Was she your best friend?″ Bugger. You don't need to know that. Now look what you've done! He looks as if he'll cry any moment now. Good job.

Sure enough, the man whom Blair just thought she befriended, had glanced down at the hand touching his wrist and slowly pulled away from her. When he looked at her face again his eyes were glistening with tears that refused to fall. ″I'm sorry! I didn't mean to pry—″

″No, it's all right. I should leave now; you'll probably be getting customers any moment. They wouldn't want to see me when they come in. I'll, uh, I'll just go.″

Harry left Malfoy's Pleasures so fast, he forgot to take the tray of pastries Blair had offered him. He hadn't eaten even one.

Blair was left standing at the door with one outstretched arm, feeling ridiculous. She sighed just as her first customer of the day: a woman with wispy, brown hair wrapped into a bun tucked under a horrendous feathery, furry hat with blue jays perched precariously on top of it, bustled in asking if she produced Cricket Biscuits. Confirming that ″Yes, I do bake them, madam. Would you like the batch with extra crickets or no?″ —Blair glanced at her door leading to the street steadily filling with people. No matter how many baked goods she was destined to sell that day, she wouldn't be able to banish the look on her new friend's face until she got home to Malfoy Manor.

Christ. I did that.

A/N: What do you think, oh, dear readers? Does it have enough substance? Should I keep up this story?! If you haven't noticed I used Blair from my other WiP, What Have We Done. I wanted to write an alternate ending or somethin' still connected to my first story but eh, what can ya do. When WHWD is finished then you could consider this an alternate ending if you want. Ill Prepared just wanted to be a story all on its own! I hope you could diffuse between Blair's thoughts and flashbacks from the past. I know I haven't put much of Harry's thoughts into this first chapter but it could show up in the next chapter if there is one? *crosses fingers* It's up to you, really. Oh and if you can't tell, Harry is under a glamour. Enough reading, now REVIEW! 33