Discaimer: Just incase you didn't know... I don't own the right to Harry Potter, J.K Rowling does. Glad we got that straight :)
A/N This is my first fanfic it's a sort of re-write of the 7th book but with strong H/Hr hints but I haven't decided on the outcome yet. Hope you enjoy.
Prologue
To anyone who didn't know better, Grimmauld Place was as ordinary a street as any other. Houses lined one side of the street and overlooked Grimmauld Gardens; a small green park that sported a lot of tree's but not much else. A cool breeze swept through the trees, rustling the leaves and allowing a brief respite from the suns sweltering heat.
A lone woman on her daily run exited the park, wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead and looked up at the houses, her eyes slipping from No.11 to No.13. She noted the strange numbering for the hundredth time and as always it nagged at her. She pushed it to the back of her mind as she crossed the road. There had been two men standing at the end of the road, on the side of the park, for 3 weeks. The men were dressed strangely for the time of year, swathed in thick black fabric and they held what looked like polished sticks in their hand. She suppressed a shiver, there was something about them that made her skin crawl but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She kept meaning to change her running route, but everyday her legs carried her along the same route she'd run for 5 years. She stole a quick glance at them, and stopped in surprise as her eyes made contact with the taller of the two.
His face was twisted into an ugly sneer and he was talking to the other one who shifted around uneasily. Then with a dismissive gesture to the smaller man, he raised his stick pointed it at her and began to walk towards her. Her mind was telling her to run, but her legs refused to budge. She assessed the situation and let out a nervous giggle; it was just a stick after all, he was probably coming over to ask her the time. That's what she told herself, her legs still rooted to the ground, but despite all her reassurances something in the man's face told her, she was in danger. She tried to move again but her muscles were frozen. The two men were halfway across the road now and the larger man was muttering furiously under his breath. She opened her mouth to scream but it caught in her throat, the effort choking her. The two men stalked closer and her entire body seized up gripped by fear.
'...the Dark Lord won't be pleased. We're meant to be watching out for the Potter boy.' The smaller man argued.
'It's only a bit of harmless muggle baiting Wilkes' The other man replied, his eyes glinting as he watched her feebly trying to scream but only succeeding in making desperate retching noises. 'Oh look, the vermin is trying to speak.' He said silkily, the venom in his voice barely tangible. The man pointed the stick at her again and watched as her eyes widened with fear. Then he grinned.