Yeh, it goes away
All of this and more of nothing in my life
No col
or clay
Individuality not safe
As of now I bet you got me wrong
So unsure you run from something strong
I can't let go
Threadbare tapestry unwinding slow
Feel a tortured brain

As of now I bet you got me wrong

So unsure you run from something strong

Nearly an hour later Draco and I hurry down the street towards Knockturn Alley, both of us laughing hysterically; Draco's mother believed every bogus word that came out of our mouths.

"I still can't believe that actually worked," chuckles Draco, smiling for the first time in two weeks.

I let out a laugh before answering, "I told you your mum would believe us."

"You where brilliant," comments Draco as we slow our pace down to a fast walk.

"Well you played your part fairly well too," I remark as we walk past the Weasley twins joke shop. It is amongst one of the only stores still open in Diagon Alley.

"Store's a joke," mumbles Draco, glancing over his shoulder.

"I would personally have it put out of business if I could," I answer as we turn down Knockturn Alley.

"Hurry," says Draco ushering me into Bourgin and Burkes, looking over his shoulder before shutting the door behind us. We must look completely shifty.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy," says a greasy haired man, coming out from behind a shelf, a jar of eyes in his hand.

"Mr. Bourgin?" I question. "You look absolutely terrible." The years have not been kind to this man.

"Yes, yes, he does," says Draco quickly. He's frightened his mother will come looking for us. "I was wondering if you could fix something like that –" he continues, gesturing to a large, black cabinet a few feet behind Mr. Bourgin who is looking out the window.

"Er…." he stammers making it obvious where this is going.

"Do you know how to fix it?" asks Draco again, growing impatient.

"Possibly," states Bourgin in a tone, which to me, sounds as if he is not willing to put his full effort into the project…that can always be fixed. "I'll need to see it, though. Why don't you bring it into the shop?"

"I can't," snaps Draco. "It has to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it."

I can tell that Draco is quickly losing his patience. For the sake of this endeavor I need him to remain level headed though I must admit that is a trying task for me as well. Bourgin seems to be taking every step to not help us. But why? I thought he would be pleased to have such a task trusted to him. Perhaps force or fear will persuade him into putting just a bit of effort into the task at hand.

Mr. Bourgin licks his lips nervously, looking between Draco and me, "Well, without seeing it I must say it will be a very difficult job. Perhaps impossible, I couldn't guarantee anything."

"No?" asks Draco, sneering.

I cut in before he can go any further. We cannot risk him saying something to ruin the entire deal, "Perhaps this will make you more confident."

Both Draco and I roll up our sleeves, revealing the Dark Mark we have both been branded with. If this does not get Bourgin on board I cannot imagine what would. I could have father come out but that would cause a scene one I'm sure can be avoided.

Mr. Bourgins' eyes grow wide as he takes a few steps away from us, bumping into the cabinet. Fear is radiating off of him, dark eyes moving back and forth in his head quickly.

"Tell anyone" says Draco, pulling down his sleeve, "and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He's and old family friend; he'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention."

"There will be no need for –" Bourgin starts but is cut of by a rather agitated Draco.

"I'll decide that," he announces. "Well we'd better be off. And don't forget to keep that one safe. I'll need it."

Assuming we are on our way out I pull down my shirt sleeve covering my mark that seems to have gotten us to the agreement we are at now. Yet Bourgin seems adamant on getting the cabinet along with our business out of his store.

"Perhaps you'd like to take it now?" offers the owner. I can tell by the tone of his voice that he is frightened to have others checking up on him.

Turning towards him I let loose my fiery temper, "Of course not you stupid little man! Didn't you gather that from what Draco has said?"

"Temper, Isabelle," reprimands Draco, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Just don't sell it."

"Of course not…sir," stammers Mr. Bourgin, bowing.

"Not a word to anyone, Bourgin, that includes Draco's mother, understood?" I instruct, ready to leave.

"Naturally, naturally," murmurs Bourgin.

With that Draco and I take our leave. Slamming the door behind us, I blast in the windows of an empty store front. Has the entire world up and lost its' mind. Owners of dark stores refusing to help those wishing to carry out dark deeds, it's unheard of. Load of rubbish, that's what it is.

"You have such a temper," mumbles Draco, leading me back up the Alley.

"Are you complaining?" I question, turning to look at him. I am in no mood to have my patience tried.

Draco kisses my cheek, "'Course not, I love you."

"Sorry. He's just so frustrating. Bourgin should be willing to help us, jumping out of his skin to do more than possible for the Dark Lord," I explain as we continue up the Alley, my elbow linked with Draco's.

"He's just frightened," replies Malfoy as we pass by the joke shop yet again.

"Where have you been?" questions and outraged Narcissa, appearing from around the corner; just great, more explaining our doings I know the Dark Mark won't work on this one.

"On a walk mum, like Belle told you," says Draco coolly. He's obviously gotten more control over himself from a few minutes ago.

"You had me worried sick. But, never mind my feelings. We best be getting home. You'll be returning to school tomorrow and I think it best if you have ample time to pack up your things."

"My father's coming, isn't he?" I question, knowing the look she has in her eyes.

Instead of answering Narcissa can only manage a nod before I send us hurtling back towards the Manor.