Placing a hand on her cage, Harry murmured a small goodbye to his long time companion. Hedwig ruffled her feathers in her sleep as if she could sense that something was amiss, but otherwise stayed silent. Glancing across the room, Harry could barely make out the rise and fall of Ron's breathing in the pale moonlight streaming through the parted curtains. His sight lingered on the dark form for a moment before glancing down at the desk to ensure the letter he had placed near Hedwig's cage was still in its proper place. With a small shake of his head he gathered his resolve, and in a moment later his backpack was situated firmly on his shoulders, the invisibility cloak covering his body and few possessions.

His short walk to the end of the Weasley's lawn had been uninterrupted and silent. There had been no worried Molly Weasley waiting in the kitchen, hugging her dressing gown close to her breast while her eyes flickered towards the family clock. In fact, unlike most recent nights, Arthur Weasley had returned from the Ministry mercifully early. The family had enjoyed a peaceful dinner, some fun in the living room, and had retired early, worn out from the effort of living in panic for the last week. He, Ron, and Hermione, had even been able to spend a while talking jovially before bed, for once their conversation not pierced with sudden declarations of fear or worry. And that had been the reason why Harry chose tonight to leave.

His decision had been made a while ago, but many things had caused him to stall over and over again. Most nights would find Molly Weasley patrolling the house and haunting the kitchen, her wary insecurity causing her to react to and inspect any and every noise. Getting past her would have been a task in its self, but Harry was honest with himself and knew that was not what had truly kept him waiting. Mostly he had been held back by guilt, knowing that his flight would cause strife and suffering for his friends, his only family. But tonight had hardened his determination. Seeing them relax for the first time in a long while had reminded him of what a burden his presence could be. Of course they would never see it that way. He was their family, and his safety was just a little bit more difficult to provide than usual. But he knew better, and recognized the difficulty he caused for them in their stead. He shouldered their burdened for them, and felt as though he carried the world.

With a heavy heart, Harry stepped past the boundary of the wards, turned on the spot, and apparated into the night.

Draco was sitting in an overstuffed chair wedged in a corner. Every few seconds his eyes would dart from the pages of his book to scan his surroundings, but he had yet to see any thing to worry about. Mostly, he was engrossed in his reading, his presence rarely disturbed. With a small smile and a sigh, he carefully marked his spot and tucked the book under his arm. Gracefully making his way through the cramped aisles and skirting past the occasional leaning tower of books in need of shelving, Draco noted with satisfaction that he was, as usual, the only patron left in the cozy bookstore so close to closing time.

Sitting behind the counter, Draco caught a glimpse of the hefty shop owner from where she was hidden behind the ancient till and cluttered books. He lay the book down gently on the only cleared spot next the to register, waiting quietly for her attention. A moment later she eyed him over the cover, and with a kind smile hoisted herself from her seat to attend to him.

"Now what are we going to take home this time, Seamus, love?" She asked him warmly.

"Pride and Prejudice and Zombies." Draco replied. This earned him a friendly laugh.

"Naturally." She teased him.

"Yes, naturally, Miss Martha." Martha, the owner of the bookstore, was rather fond of Draco. She knew him only under a false name, which had been the first one Draco had thought of when she had asked him a month ago, while she had skeptically rang up his first purchase. At first she had not been happy about his visits to her store, all too used to what she called "miscreant hoodies" who enjoyed giving her grief and defacing. But she had soon taken a liking to him despite his youth, finding his old fashioned manners and selected readings unusually charming for a boy his age.

"I wasn't sure when I first decided to order these, but after reading a few myself, I will admit they stick pretty well to the originals while adding a bit of fun. I hope these get more children reading the classics... not that you need the help, mind."

She bagged his selection, gave him his change, and followed him to the door so she could lock up after he left.

"Goodnight, Miss Martha." Draco said politely before exiting. She gave him another friendly smile and wished him a goodnight, locking the door as soon as it shut behind him. After taking a few steps Draco paused, looking to the sky as the streetlamps flickered to life around him. The dwindling sunlight had turned the sky above London into a surreal grayish-blue that would soon become the orange tinted night sky of a light polluted city, but for a moment the cool tones seemed to invoke a sort of silent calm that Draco couldn't help but admire.

But standing in the open of a London street was dangerous, and Draco knew this well. Snapping out of his revelry, he took up a brisk pace down the walk, keeping close watch on his surroundings and fellow pedestrians for any threat. A few minutes later he stopped before the steps to a flat, and after a sweeping surveillance of the street, climbed the steps and removed the keys to the door from his pocket. In his other hand he discreetly waved his wand along the edge of the door, removing his wards. That done he turning the key. The door had just begun to swing back when he felt the dreaded pressure of a wand in his back.

Draco closed his eyes, fighting down the fear that coursed through his body. He had to steel himself against it so he could execute his plan against such an event. He took a deep breath and was about to yell the word to activate his defensive spells around the door when the wand-wielder behind him spoke.

"Just get inside, Malfoy. I don't need any hysterics."

With an intake of breath Draco opened his eyes in surprise and stepped forward.

A/N:

First off, HELLO! I'm attempting to write you a story, and I sincerely apologize if it already sucks. Most people usually have to wait for the initial enthusiasm to wear off before that happens.

As for Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, yes, it does exist, as do other novel remakes of classics that include strange things. The authors consider themselves co-authors to the originals and just add their own interesting spice to the mix. I've only been allowed to read a few pages into my friend's copy of PP and Z, because I ruin books, but what I read was awesome in all forms of awesomeness. What else speeds a story about fighting classism along than a full on zombie assault?

Read, and review, or don't. I usually only review when I read a story that has over 20 chapters and hasn't been updated for about two months, and at that point it's just to stroke some ego to get those authors writing again.