The sun beat down heavily upon my eyelids. Despite the brightness, there was a chill. The kind that laces itself to your skin and lingers in your bones. My tired eyes disregarded the blue sky.
The last day of sunlight. I recall it so clearly. The blinding white of the sun and the dark clouds laced with silver beneath. I miss that last summer day. The sun shines no more.
Instead a mournful grey lurks as I walk towards the gunmetal house. Small in stature and old, I fail to imagine Draco Malfoy living here. It was a surprise to find he had moved out of his parents lavish manor. You would presume he had grown up. From his juvenile replies, it was quite clear that he had not.
A slim figure slithers out of the shadows. A shock of blonde hair so pale that I would know him anywhere. He meets me with an equally grim face.
"So Granger," he says outstretching a hand to reveal a small dial of potion. "I hear you need me." I purse my lips and shake my head at him.
"I need what you can offer, yes. However that is far too little for what the ministry needs. I can't pay you for just that." He fakes a grin and walks into the derelict house. I have no choice but to follow, praying that it will not disintegrate with me inside.