The Lost End

By Nu Rho

The sun was low, at the moment hovering placidly beyond the haze of grey clouds that darkened the mid-afternoon sky. It was a little humid out, being just mid-way through the summer holidays, and just lousy enough, in common opinion, to stay indoors.

There was only one person here, lying on his back on the lawn, under the clouds, hands folded beneath his head. The painful silence of the afternoon seemed not to bother him. Nor did the cold breeze that seemed to brush away the humidity every time it danced over the damp grass and softly ruffled the boy's dark hair and baggy t-shirt, raising goose bumps up his arms. He sighed inwardly, filling his senses with the scent of the grass and the promise of on-coming showers. The breeze was soon accompanied by small, beady drops of rain, descending slow and scarce across the yard and street. Emerald green eyes flickered open at the chilled splash of a raindrop breaking on the boy's forehead, just above the rim of his glasses, and right next to a scar that reflected what would accompany the night's weather.

The boy blinked as another bead of rain landed near his right eye and rolled down his cheek, soon accompanied by a rain-drop of another kind, one that had leaked from one of the small pools of salty water gathering over those beautiful, vivid emeralds.

- - - - -

The rain drummed gently against the window, streams of water weaving themselves down the glass, illuminated by the glow of a candle on the dry side of the pane. A pair of bored grey eyes gazed out at the similarly shaded clouds and the only sound in the dark room was the echo of a sigh. Letting his gaze flicker towards a small, dark spot in the sky, the owner of the grey eyes sighed again and slumped heavily on the sill, chin resting lazily in his hand. He watched the dot in the sly grow larger and could make out the rhythmic flapping of wings on either side of it. The closer the bird flew, the more he noticed the brilliant red shimmer of its feathers, which seemed to reflect the sunlight that wasn't there.

The boy stepped back from the window, grasping the clasp and pulling it open. There was the loud 'swoosh' of feather slicing through air and a furry of beating wings as the large bird balanced itself gracefully on a tall perch across the room, next to a haughty horned owl who hooted in an aggravated fashion, having been woken up from his mid-afternoon nap. The grey-eyes boy shut the window again and then turned and crossed the room to where the red bird sat ignoring the owl and fluttering droplets of water from his feathers.

"'Evening, Fawks," the boy drawled, his boredom obviously apparent in his smooth voice.

The phoenix nodded a greeting and a soft 'coo' sang from his slender beak. Holding his leg out towards the boy, Fawks turned his head and seemed to fall into a pleasant conversation with the owl beside him. The young wizard unlaced the letter from Fawks's ankle and unrolled it curiously. What could the old man want barely mid-way through the summer? His eyes skimmed across the elegant scrawl twice, another sigh escaping through his breath.

"Alright, Fawks," he muttered, grabbing a piece of scroll off a large mahogany desk against the wall to his left and snatching a black quill from a cup, dipping it in a deep green ink. He scribbled on the parchment as he spoke. "Could you bring this back to the old man for me?" Fawks cooed his consent and leaned into the fingers that came up to scratch the side of his neck, just beneath his jaw. With his other hand, the young wizard secured his return letter to the ties on Fawks's leg before crossing the room and again opening the window for the phoenix.

- - - - -

The old wizard sat at his desk, sorting out the coming year's student schedules, blue eyes twinkling as that almost always did, behind half-moon glasses. He lifted his head as a familiar friend swooped into his office, returning from an errand the bird had been willing to complete for him. The wizard stroked the bird's head and unrolled the letter that had returned with him.

Professor Dumbledore--

I'll leave right now and check in by sundown tonight.

You owe me for this one.

--D.M.

The old wizard's eyes twinkled a little bit brighter and he released a small chuckle. He smiled at his bird and in his old, tired, but somehow forever youthful voice, he mused, "Those boys will cause me trouble yet..."

- - - - -

The boy in the grass woke up with a start when a rather large foot landed quite roughly right in his gut. He quickly scrambled a few feet away and coughed, then sucked in a small gasp.

"Damn it, Dudley, I was resting!" He shouted angrily. Leave it to his fat, spoiled cousin to ruin a well-deserved nap. And, well... Leave it to Dudley to ruin anything good. The young wizard decided to voice this. "Why do you always have to be such a rude, incompetent beast?"

Dudley frowned at his cousin and paused, his chin doubling with the expression. He, in fact, did not know what 'incompetent' meant. "I am not a beast! You're the beast, Harry!" He accused, sticking to what he understood.

Harry rolled his eyes and straightened his glasses. "Of course, Dudley, how could I--"However, he was cut off by another voice from behind him.

"Very well put, yes. A beast, Potter? Tsk tsk, even you're bloody muggle here can see that! Too bad you're 'friends' can't. Too bad for them, that is..."

Harry froze. No way... That voice? What in Merlin's name was that voice doing here??

He quickly glanced around to make sure he was indeed still at number four Privet Drive. The young Gryffindor spun awkwardly, still crouched on the ground, hoping to all the powers that his ears had deceived him and the person behind him was not who he thought it was.

"M... Malfoy??" Damn.

Draco raised both his eyebrows. "Surprised, Potter? Well, good news! I'm here to check up on you!" Mock excitement dripped from his words, but his expression proved otherwise, the familiar smirk falling naturally into place.

"C-check up on me??" Harry stammered and Draco rolled his eyes again.

"Really, Potter, speak properly. And get up already; you look like you got attacked by the giant squid." Draco sneered distastefully at the other boy's soaked clothing, thankful that the rain had at least stopped enough to keep himself dry for the moment.

The Gryffindor blinked up at Draco another moment, then dropped his head into his hands and moaned. He heard the Slytherin sigh before he was hauled to his feet, and looked up abruptly, emerald eyes meeting stormy grey ones. He watched the grey eyes blink, bewildered.

"Merlin, Potter, have you lost weight??" It was not a compliment.

"Wh-what??" Harry had known he had lost weight, but frankly, he didn't care. His mind was always in the clouds with his broom--which was in fact locked in the cupboard under the stairs--not on the fact that he hardly remembered to beg the Dursleys to feed him.

"I asked if you'd lost weight! You're so incompetent..."

Dudley grinned. He still didn't know what that word meant, but it couldn't be good, and now Harry was also 'incompetent.'

"I'm not!" Protested Harry, but he couldn't pull his arms out of Draco's stronger grasp. The Slytherin pulled up Harry's sleeve and turned his arm over in his hands. "Merlin, Potter, your arm's as thin as my owl's leg!"

Harry gulped as Draco grasped the bottom of the Gryffindor's shirt and yanked it up. Nearly every muscle in his body flinched or convulsed as the Slytherin's icy fingers brushed the skin stretched over Harry's ribs. Draco frowned and dropped the shirt as Harry gaped at him.

"This is worse than I was expecting, Potter,' he stated simply, frown still displayed across his features. "'Would have thought you'd know to take better care of yourself. I suppose I'll have to take you now..." He glanced Harry over again before continuing. "I'm sure Dumbledore doesn't want his golden-boy starved to death before first term even starts." He huffed and seemed a little reluctant, but quickly made up his mind. "Let's go."

It was only just then that Harry realized Draco's broom was resting against the garden bench, and he watched the other boy snatch it up. "Go?"

Draco sighed deeply and brushed a stray strand of hair from his forehead. Instead of trying to explain anything to the bewildered Gryffindor, though, he tightened his hold on Harry's wrist, which still rested in his grasp, and yanked him unceremoniously onto the broom behind him. Without any warning, he kicked off into the drizzle and Harry had to quickly throw his arms about Draco's waist to keep from falling off... A position he didn't like very much at all.

End Chapter the First

A/N: Yes, yes, I know... It's horrible, it sucks, blah blah... Review it anyways, ne? I'd really appreciate your opinion. Also, sorry to anyone who read it before under another name.. I kinda deleted it and had to put it back up again.. Result of a friendly feud.. Anywhos. Update reeaal soon, promise. And it will definately be longer than this short excuse for a chapter.