Hello Lovelies. I'm sorry that this is so late. I was recently diagnosed with an auto-immune disease and it's been a bitch dealing with all of the appointments and things. And on top of all that I was moving. Ugh it was a mess. But here we are! Chapter 3. I'm never gonna give up on this story don't you guys worry. I'm expecting the next chapter to be done in a week. Love you always ~XO Jimmie/p


"I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light." ― Helen Keller


Draco had spent thirteen days studying his new assignments and the ingredients that went into it. It was a very complex potion, with many volatile, unstable, and rare ingredients. Some he knew could be obtained in Knockturn Alley; after the war, it became the only reason to go to Diagon Alley at all. But some of the other ingredients would be hard to come by. This must be a very rare potion. Draco thought to himself. And based on the potion's ingredients (things such as powdered moonstone and the blood of servitude), it was definitely dark magic.

Looking over the instructions, he noticed that the potion needed very precise timing. It appeared that Potion No. 86's beginning stages needed to be brewed only during the witching hours during a Blood Moon. It was no matter. Draco had a job to do, and he was not one to back down from a mission. He knew what the alternative was.

The Blood Moon was in four months time. Under normal circumstances, this would not have been a problem, but the potion's complicated ingredients gave no room for error.

There was a loud commotion in Malfoy Manor. After having to share his house for so long, he did not jump at the noise. It had become a somewhat common occurrence and Draco no longer saw this domicile as his home. The noise then became louder, Draco could make out the screaming and excited jeers from Death Eaters. He had no interest to partake in the the 'festivities', they were no doubt incredibly violent.

So instead of Draco rising from the table that he studied from, he stayed put, not wishing to partake in whatever the Dark Lord and his minions had to offer.

It was unfortunate then that Voldemort had other plans.

A loud scream erupted from Draco's mouth as he fell to the ground, clutching his left forearm. Damn...mark Draco grunted as he tried to grab his wand from the table. Then, as abruptly as it began, it stopped. Heaving on the floor, He slowly tried to get up so he could start making the trek to the Parlour.

Draco walked into the room loud and full of eager, bloodthirsty Death Eaters. He moved without purpose, trying desperately to deflect attention away from himself. He didn't need anyone noticing him. But there are some people you just cannot hide from.

"Ahh Draco!" His mother, Narcissa runs into his arms, almost knocking them both over. She was dressed in lavender robes, a stark contrast to the majority in the room, all of whom were wearing black.

"Mother, what are you doing here?" Draco asked and he wraps his arms around his mother. "You should have stayed in your quarters."

"Well I couldn't with all of this commotion going on in my own home." She says affronted. "My dear, are you aware of what is going on?" Narcissa glanced around the room, scanning it for familiar faces. She acted likes she had never seen any of these people before.

"No Mother, I was just called."

"Alright. I hope this isn't anything too disastrous…"

Draco snorted loudly. "I highly doubt it mother. When was the last time that anything went in our favour? Speaking of misfortune, where is father?"

Narcissa gave a nervous glance to the other side of the hall. "He's over there…"

Draco turned to meet his mother's line of vision. There was his father, the once proud Lucius Malfoy, standing quietly next to Alecto and Amycus Carrow. His once proud form slumped over, his eyes downcast. Lucius Malfoy had seen much better days. He was wearing what appeared to be a long Wait, is that Burlap? Draco cringed at the thought. Here was his father, that man that he had always looked up to - turned servant by the new cause. At least they've let him live Draco thought dejectedly. It had been quite a while since Draco thought anything more than pity for the man who raised him. There wasn't much left of him beyond that anyway.

The room rushed into a hush as Lady Bellatrix strutted into the room. She walked with her head held high, as a leader amongst men. She reached the far end of the parlour, then turned. Not a cough or shuffle could be heard in the room.

"I have just been informed that Harry Potter has been spotted in London." Her wild eyes slowly swept the room, crazed yet methodical. "As we are all aware, the boy and his filthy friend threaten our new and glorious world."

The room shook with the excited reverberations of the evil in the room. Everyone, apart from their daily tasks, was meant to keep an eye out on any of the famed Golden Trio's Harry Potter. It had been 3 weeks since they had taken Ron Weasley, hoping to lure the boy into their crutches but alas, it hadn't seemed to work...that is until now.

Draco didn't share the sentiment. It was of no matter to him whether the boy-who-lived lived or died. The Dark Side had won and that was all there was to it. Apparently Voldemort thought differently.

"The first person or persons to find the boy and bring him to the Dark Lord will be rewarded beyond their wildest dreams." Great, Just what I needed Draco thought, before the noise in the hall drowned out even his own thoughts.

"Land!"

"Ho!"

Fred and George Weasley said consecutively.

"Yes yes. We can see it you know." Hermione said impatiently to them. Her Colin Creevy and a few others were already mooring the ship, and some were already leaving the ship for the port. "Must you state the obvious?" The twins gave Hermione cheshire grins.

"Well I don't know mate-"

"What is it you rather us do?"

"We were only in Scotland-"

" 's all the same land innit Fred?"

"Right you are George."

"So what is the point in calling our status at all?" She replied, hands on her hips.

"Oh well would you look at that." Fred and George said simultaneously.

" At what…?" Hermione looked around confusedly. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary (and thinking that she likely just got duped), she turned to the twins, only to find that they were no longer in eyesight, most likely gone to the port.

"You know those two just like to rile you up. Don't know why you let it get to you." Harry had just come off of their second ship, carrying what appeared to be an empty barrel. After dropping it onto the pier, he dusted off his hands and went back to Hermione.

"I've also be meaning to ask you, why is there a stowaway on board my ship?"

"Oh yes! I had almost forgotten. Where is he?" Hermione looked around, trying to determine if he had gotten away yet.

"He's still in the brig. Honestly, why is he so important? Does he have information about Ron?"

"Oh Honestly Harry!"

"Well then what is it?"

"Okay, so here is the thing. It is well known that the Death Eaters have given their fortunes to Voldemort to prove their loyalty to his cause." Hermione leaned forward and started to speak in a hushed tone. "So, it is likely that Bellatrix gave her vault to Voldemort."

"Yes, and?"

"So." Hermione paused. She glanced around to make sure that no one was listening. "Bellatrix, his most loyal, gave everything in her vault. Everything including…"

Harry's eyes lit up. "Hermione you're bloody brilliant!" He grabbed his friend and kissed her on the forehead. "That means that whatever she was hiding in her vault, like the horcrux, is probably in the vault!"

"Yes.. except I don't think it's in a vault at gringotts.." Hermione glanced at her shoes to avoid Harry's imploring eyes. "I think it's in Malfoy Manor."

The smile dropped from Harry's face. "Why would it be in Malfoy Manor?"

Hermione replied, "Well it appears that the old man knows a thing or two about what is happening here in England, and thinks that Voldemort is keeping his riches at headquarters."

"Well then why didn't we get all of the info we needed back in Scotland and leave him there? What the point of bringing him with us?"

"Because I'm not finished with him. There's something he's not telling us, and I intend to find out what it is. Besides, he's asked for something in return." Hermione started to walk back towards the plank connecting her ship to the Port.

"Wait a sec 'Mione" Harry grabbed her arm, "What it is that he wants?"

"I don't know yet Harry. He wouldn't say. I'm guessing he's going to wait until we're in the Manor to let us know." She shook Harry's grip on her. "Now if you'll excuse me, our crew needs help unloading the ship." Hermione then turned and walked towards what appeared to be a small wooden hut near the end of the pier.

Hermione walked to the Harbormaster and he glanced up, made eye contact and then glanced down to his clipboard. "It's three Sickles to tie up your ship." The Harbormaster said, "and I'll need to see your wand"

"And why would you need that?" She asked as she pulled out a small satchel of coins from the depths of her magically extended bag.

"Standard protocol Miss."

Hermione scrutinized the Harbormaster. He was a stocky man, of average height, and he was missing his pinky finger on his left hand. He didn't budge under her gaze. She sighed.

"How about two Galleons and we forget the wand?" She drops the coins on his clipboard.

"Welcome to London Miss Smith." He smiled, at least three of his front teeth missing. My parents must be turning in their graves. Hermione thought as she quickly turned away and strode back towards her crew.

Everyone was on edge.. It could be felt, reverberating through the crew members. Many of them were Hogwarts students, they had been at ground zero during the coming of the second war. It had become a dark place, the blood of innocents soaking the ground, giving everything a haunted feel. It was no longer home for them.

It was hell.

And they just stepped back into it.

It wasn't as if there were no people around. You could clearly see the malnourished littering the streets, but aside from the occasional cough, it was eerily silent. The people in the gutters of London looked around, but paid the new visitors no mind. It was nothing new to see people entering from this particular dock. It was home to the lowest of the low. People who were forgotten by the new regime, or worse, those who wished not to be found.

What they must've seen...Hermione's heart fell as she thought about her brief period in one of the camps. She hoped at least, that being free was better than imprisoned, but by the look of things, she wasn't so sure. In the camps, everywhere there was death: carcasses left in the rain, rats and maggots slowly eating away the death while guards and Death Eaters raped and tortured those lesser beings for the sheer thrill. The laughter…Hermione shook her head to try and clear her thoughts.

"You a'right 'Mione? Neville asked as they walked down the street. He held a look of concern all over his face.

"Yeah Neville...just brings back memories ya know?"

"Aye, but we've a job to do."

"Aye" She looked up, just as the first drop of a hard English raindrop hit her cheek.