Chapter One: Mystery Visitor

Ron woke up Harry at quarter to eleven in the morning. They were up pretty late the night before and he found it only natural that he and Harry slept in late. Harry groaned and rolled over to face his friend with an evil stare.

"Hey, I had to wake you up before it got too late in the afternoon and end up feeling like shit later tonight." said Ron defensively. Harry uncovered himself and stood up from where he was sleeping. He slipped on his black parachute pants and his white muscle shirt. He combed his hair until he liked how it look and headed downstairs in hopes he could still find something to eat. Ron was close behind him; fully dressed as well. Mrs. Weasley had mentioned the night before that she was going to be gone all day, Mr. Weasley was at work as well as Percy, and Ginny was staying the rest of the summer at Hermione's. So the house was left to Ron, Fred and George and now him as well.

Fred and George appeared at the bedroom door looking groggily at the two. They looked partly surprised at the fact that they were already dressed.

"Did you guys just get up as well?" as George. Ron nodded and then continued to follow Harry. Chimes were heard from the kitchen. Fred and George whizzed passed the two down the stairs into the kitchen. Harry and Ron entered the kitchen only seconds after the twins had answered the door. Ron told Harry that since they didn't have a doorbell, that their mum cast a spell on the door that made sound of chimes whenever they had a visitor. George answered the door and saw who was behind it. The man was tall, had black hair and was wearing sunglasses. He was wearing a nice black suit with a black cloak to match his attire.

"Yes may we help you?" asked Ron who stood behind the kitchen table with Harry next to him. The twins were too busy seeing what he looked like than to ask what his business was at their house. The man looked up and a small smile formed on his elegant face when he noticed how the two dressed. In everyone's eyes and words they were called "gothic" from how they looked, but the two merely were comfortable in the clothes and mainly chose to wear all black. Though the only real color Ron wore was red from his hair.

"I'm looking for Mr. Weasley, is he here?" The man asked softly and professionally.

"No he's at work." answered Fred.

"Alright then, can you give him my card and tell him he can call me anytime of the day." The man took out a business card and handed it to George.

"Sure thing." answered George.

"Thanks." The man turned and walked back up the driveway and climbed into the black Comoro that was parked towards the end of the driveway. Fred shut the door and took the card from George.

"Mr. Ruche. Hhmm just has his number, an address and an upside down pentacle on here. I guess dad knows him."

"Just put it on the fridge, Dad can look at it later." said George. Ron grabbed the milk from the fridge while Harry had grabbed the cereal and bowls.

"Don't you guys work today?" asked Ron. He and Harry were now in their going into their seventh year and Fred and George had opened their own joke shop like they had wanted when the four of them were all going to school together.

"No today is Saturday, we don't work on the weekends." answered George. Fred put on the coffee pot and then headed upstairs followed by his twin brother to go up to their room and get dressed. Ron and Harry sat down at the kitchen table and had breakfast. They both ate in silence just thinking about their mysterious visitor.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, well except for the weather, which was still rainy and sultry. Mrs. Weasley came home about an hour before Mr. Weasley and Percy and Charlie, one of the elder brothers, had returned for a surprise visit. He told everyone stories about the dragons and which ones were new to Romania because they were becoming extinct and they had no other better place to go.

Harry finally remembered the card the man that had visited them earlier and went to get it. He returned to the living room and handed it to him.

"This man stopped by and said to give this to you and have you call him." Mr. Weasley took the card and looked at it. As soon as he read it, his smile left his face and he stood up.

"Charlie; lets go in the kitchen and talk." Mr. Weasley handed him the card and Charlie nodded. "I want everyone upstairs and I don't want anyone to come down till I say so. Molly, can you join us?" Mrs. Weasley nodded and stood up. She ushered everyone upstairs before entering the kitchen where her husband and son sat. She shut the doors behind her and sat down at the kitchen table with the two.

"What is going on?" she asked. Mr. Weasley handed her the card and she read it. "Arthur, I thought he was in Azkaban?"

"He was let out only a few months ago. They dropped the charges on him and finally found him innocent."

"But he…" Molly had started, but stopped, knowing it best not to argue when her husband knew more of the facts than she did.

"But why would he come here?" asked Charlie.

"Before he was accused of stealing from Gringotts and sent to Azkaban, he and I were working on something private for the ministry. He was always a great partner and we worked well with each other, but then he became quieter and stayed away from everything for awhile. When he came back to work, he was a different person, though he was still nice to me,; I could tell he had changed. Not too much time had passed before he was accused of stealing 100,000 dollars in our money form from Gringotts. He pleaded innocence and not too many people believed him. I was one of the few who did. Only recently did they find new evidence that pointed in another direction and the charges were dropped."

"But why did he come here looking for you?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"I believe he wanted to talk to me about some inside information about the stealing; though I'm not really sure. It has been almost three years since he was put in Azkaban. Who knows how much he has change since the last time I saw him" Mrs. Weasley and Charlie looked at Mr. Weasley with uneasy looks and sat in silence.