Disclaimer- ::Starts counting on fingers:: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters, or even the title of this story. It's the name of musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

A/N: I felt like starting a new fic…so I did. It's rated T for language, slash and possibly violence, I don't really know yet. I seriously doubt it'll go any higher than T. Also, in this fic it's like Half-Blood Prince never happened, just FYI.

Chapter 1

Harry sat at a café in London, slowly sipping a cup of tea. He was staring idly out the window beside him, watching the water droplets make intricate patterns on the glass. Outside countless people trudged through the rain, their heads bowed against the downpour, dull umbrellas rising above them glumly. Strictly speaking, Harry wasn't allowed to be here, it was a Tuesday in April and, as he was in his seventh year, he still had classes to attend. At the moment though, he really didn't care. He was bored and frustrated with his life and simply needed to get away. A waiter came over and Harry ordered another cup of tea.

He wasn't sure why he had picked this place to come and think, it had been as good a place as any to get out of the rain, so he had just ducked in. It was a muggle café, dimly lit due to the clouds and only a quarter full, if that. The tea was slightly better than average, hence Harry's second cup, and warm. Slowly Harry's thoughts meandered back to Hogwarts and he was hit with a jolt of guilt when he realized Dumbledore would be worried sick at his disappearance. Harry checked his watch, he had only been gone a couple of hours, maybe no one would have noticed his absence. He snorted, fat chance, after three attacks at the school this year Dumbledore had deemed it wise to have "guards" trailing Harry between classes and during his free time. And a lot of good they were, thought Harry, he had been able to sneak out of the castle with relative ease due to his Invisibility Cloak. Everyone at the school would be frantic. Another thought wormed its way into Harry's brain, What if I don't care? What if I don't care that everyone is worried about me? The only thing I'm good for is getting rid of Voldemort. What if I just left, just left and never came back?

In the end Harry's better judgment got the best of him. He downed the rest of his tea, threw some muggle money on the table, then stood up, a feeling of foreboding coming over him at the prospect of returning to his once-beloved school. The tinkling of a bell sounded above him as he pushed open the cold glass door and stepped out into the storm. The second his foot hit the pavement before him a loud bang sounded from somewhere down the street. Harry's head whipped around, towards the source of the noise and what he saw almost made him sick. A swarm of wizards in black robes was rushing down the street, yelling madly and shooting spells at everything in sight. He didn't need the second glance or the sight of chilling white masks to confirm his suspicions. Death Eaters.

The street erupted in chaos. Muggles were running left and right, screaming in terror and occasionally pain as they were hit by a Death Eater's curse. Harry dashed into the muddy street, pulling out his wand as he ran. He wasn't sure what he could do, but he knew he had to try something; he was the "Chosen One" after all. Even in the midst of all the terror and blood he managed a grimace at the name. Stupid title wasn't going to do him much if he was squashed by Death Eaters.

He shot a stunning spell over his shoulder toward a masked wizard who was attempting to burn down the café he had just exited. One down, five billion more to go, Harry thought grimly. Two Death Eaters had spotted him felling their companion and they rushed towards him. Calmly, he silently cursed both of them with the first spells that came to his mind. Unfortunately, this alerted five more Death Eaters. He stunned two of them, but the other three were still coming at him at an alarming speed. Not being a particularly stupid wizard, Harry knew when to run. He turned and bolted down the street, slipping in blood and mud and shooting spells over his shoulder as he tore down the emptying street.

Out of nowhere he felt something collide with him, "What the hell?" he managed to gasp before he hit the ground with a thud that knocked all the air out of him. He caught a glimpse of silvery-blonde hair above him as the dark figure rolled off him. He growled as he recognized the pale, pointed face, "What do you want, Malfoy? Trying to kill me yourself, eh?" He yelled as soon as his breath came back.

"Shut up, Potter! Or you'll blow my cover." Malfoy hissed, shoving his pale, dripping hand over Harry's mouth.

Harry spluttered and pushed the other boy's hand out of his face, "Your cover? What?" he asked, more quietly this time.

Draco sighed, exasperated, "I'll explain later, Potter! Right now we just need to get out of here!" And with that statement Malfoy grabbed the other boy and Harry felt the effects of apparition, then they were gone.

The first thing Harry noticed when his feet touched ground, Malfoy's arm still awkwardly placed around his waist, was that the rain had stopped. He opened his eyes, trying to remember when he had shut them, and saw the light from the setting sun filtering through the thick mist that filled the shadowy forest glade where they stood. Both boys glanced down to where Malfoy's arm was situated and he removed it hastily.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, curiously.

Malfoy shrugged, "No idea, Potter. The first time I saw the place we're heading was little less than half an hour ago." He began to walk through the forest and Harry, having no other choice, followed.

"So I'm stuck out in the middle of nowhere with you?" Harry said angrily, some of the hate for his old rival returning to him.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "You know, Potter, it might be smarter to question why I brought you here instead of insulting your only company, but brains never were your strongpoint were they?"

Harry colored, "Fine, Malfoy! Why are we here?" he spat.

"That's better. We're here because a little while ago, while you were traipsing about London, Hogwarts was invaded and captured by Death Eaters."

Harry gasped, and then said spitefully, "So why aren't you there with them, huh? You're one of them, aren't you?"

Malfoy massaged his blonde temples, "No Potter, I am not 'one of them' as you so eloquently put it. I'm a spy working for the Order of the Phoenix. Our headquarters were attacked simultaneously with the castle so we had to establish a new base quickly. The place we're headed towards is the new base we chose."

Questions erupted inside Harry, but he tried to ask them one at a time, "You're a spy? How come I didn't know?"

"Yes, I'm a spy, I just told you that. As to why you didn't know, haven't you learned by now that Dumbledore doesn't tell you every last detail of his plans? You're always so bloody full of yourself!"

Harry seethed at the jibe, but needed his questions answered so he kept his comments to himself "Why did the Death Eaters attack that street I was at in London? How did they know where to find me?"

"They attacked it for that very reason, you were there. They were able to find you for the same reason I was, tracking spells." At Harry's angry look he added, "Don't worry, ours were just for today and I managed to lift theirs right before I apparated you."

Harry felt rather ashamed that two sets of people had been able to spell him without his notice so he changed the subject, "How did the Death Eaters manage to attack the castle and Grimmauld Place?"

"We're still not quite sure of the details, there was an information leak, that much is clear, but we're not positive as to who's behind it. We've got a few suspects, but nothing's been settled."

Harry asked his final questions, the ones that concerned him most, "Was anyone hurt in the attacks? How are Ron and Hermione?" He was so intent on the answers that any hate left in his voice was lost.

"A lot of people were hurt and killed in the attacks; we're still taking a count of the carnage. I have no idea what happened to your little friends. My job isn't to keep tabs on them." He finished with a sneer.

"Then what is your job?" Harry shot back.

"To rescue your sorry neck, Potter! If I wasn't the only one available for the job, then believe me I wouldn't have taken it." Harry was going to come back with a no-doubt snappy remark, but at that moment they stepped into another seemingly-empty glade and Malfoy interrupted him, "Ah, here we are."

"There's nothing here." Harry said bluntly.

"Jeez Potter, seven years in the magical world and you can still only take things as what they seem to be. 'There's nothing here', honestly." He walked a little ways into the glade, pulled out his wand and tapped at thin air. A grey stone house appeared, it seemed small, but by the looks of things it had a basement.

"Is that it? Is making it invisible the only defense they could come up with?" Harry asked, disappointed in his headmaster.

Malfoy looked at him as if he were the stupidest thing on earth, "Of course not, you moron. There are obviously anti-apparation wards and on top of that only those marked with a certain spell can enter. I cast it on you while we were walking, you really do need to be more observant, Potter."

Harry blushed in embarrassment and slight rage, "Shall we go inside then?" He practically spat.

"Ladies first." Malfoy sneered, opening the squeaky wooden door for Harry.

Ignoring the insult Harry pushed past Malfoy and into the building. A plain kitchen met his eyes. It was paneled with wood and the floor was a cold, gray stone. Remus Lupin, Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore sat around the wooden table, one of the few things that furnished the room. The three men were talking urgently but looked up abruptly when Harry and Malfoy entered.

"Ah, Draco," Said Dumbledore in a tired voice, "You're back, good. Now I must return to the students. I'll see if I can get them home."

"Or what's left of them." Muttered Arthur as the door shut behind the headmaster.

Malfoy took a seat at the table and Harry took the only remaining seat next to him. On closer inspection, Arthur and Remus looked more exhausted than Harry had ever seen them, and considering what they all had been through in the last seven years, this was saying a lot.

Remus smiled wearily, "Harry! I'm glad you're safe." He turned to Malfoy, "You too Draco, good job." Malfoy merely nodded.

Harry skipped the introduction and launched into his near-panicking inquiry, "How are Ron and Hermione?"

Mr. Weasley bowed his head, "They were both wounded seriously in the attack. Neither was killed, but they're both at an underground medical treatment center."

"Why not St. Mungo's?

"St. Mungo's was closed in light of the attacks and all the patients were moved to the centers. They're afraid of being invaded and they didn't want to risk it. Can't blame them really."

Harry nodded reflectively, "And everyone else?"

"Almost everyone was killed or wounded. Those remaining will be sent home."

"What can I do to help?"

Remus spoke up, "Basically you are going to go on any missions we think you would be best for. In the mean time you are to stay here"

Harry smiled grimly, he wasn't a lover of inactivity, but at least it was something. He vaguely wondered what types of missions he would be sent on.

"And I assume you want me to keep spying?" Malfoy asked coolly.

Remus nodded, "Yes, luckily you haven't been caught yet. If your situation becomes too risky then we'll pull you out, but as for now just keep it up."

Arthur cut in, "It's getting late, and I believe we should all be heading for bed." He walked over to a trapdoor in the far left corner, and pulled it open with some effort. It revealed a long staircase, the lower half of which was shrouded in gloom. He muttered a spell and suddenly the basement was illuminated with the light of about a dozen candles hanging from the walls. It was a small, dingy room containing only two smallish beds and a stack of sleeping bags in the corner.

"Guess what we get?" said Malfoy, peering down into the dimly-lit room and Harry suppressed a groan. He had never really liked sleeping bags.

They all headed down the stairs, yawning, it had been a long day. Harry didn't say much as he laid out his bag on the cold floor (he couldn't tell if it was dirt or stone), he was too absorbed in his own thoughts. He should have known the school was going to be attacked eventually; it couldn't remain the only safe place left in the wizarding world for ever, but a small part of him wished that he had been there during the attack. He knew it was a stupid thought, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that if he had been there maybe, just maybe, he could have done something to help.

A/N: I'm not sure how often I'll be updating this thing once school starts again. I'll try to write as often as possible, but I'm supposed to be working harder on my Algebra this semester so I don't know how that'll go. In the mean time click that little bluish purple button and motivate me!