Chapter Four

A green bottle smashed loudly against the pavement, shattering into a thousand pieces. Draco Malfoy stood over a shard of the thick glass. He could see his reflection blurred against the pavement.

"Of all the bloody stupid things I've done, joining the Order of The Phoenix was the worst," he muttered sullenly.

Draco had officially joined the Order a month after Dumbledore's death. Snape and he had lain low for the month and then when they thought it was safe returned to Hogwarts. It turned out Snape had been on the side of good all along, that's when Professor McGonagall offered him a job working for the Order where they could protect him from Voldemort. Draco eagerly accepted.

The good thing was he got to miss a lot of school going to important meetings, and that's where he was headed now. Last night Rupert Giles had contacted Snape, who had apparently known him for years. Giles and his team, The Slayers' Council, had been working on fighting Voldemort for some months already, but had only just heard of the Order; today they were all going to meet to discuss tactics and make formal introductions.

All Draco really wanted to do was sleep, if you could call it sleeping. He spent the rare times he could sleep paralysed in his bed, slowly sinking, oblivion taking over all. The bed sheets and mattress would come up around him folding around him in two high walls. There he would let the tides of self pity and torrents of self loathing wash over him. But then Blaise would come with a dab of Muggle 'speed' to keep him from suffocating in his half-awake state, and Draco would be up again, unable to sleep for days.

He was even starting to enjoy his time patrolling with Hermione. She was wary of him and he liked that. He wasn't depressed, far from it. She knew he wasn't depressed, she still treated him like the same old Draco, which really he was. It was only when night came that he found himself lost. Secretly he wished he could confide in Hermione. The truth was he didn't give a bollock about Dumbledore; it was Harry who had him drenched from head to toe in worry.

The King's Road was wet, the rain from the night before hadn't stopped until seven o'clock that morning. Draco skidded slightly, coming to a stop in front of a large billboard propped against the side of the road; there had been many like this over the year, warnings and new laws posted up by the Muggle Government. People were starting to act rashly in both the wizarding and Muggle world, everything was starting to intertwine like branches on an old tree. The war was affecting everyone, and hardly ever in a good way.

Draco carried on walking until he found himself standing outside The Slayers' Council. He checked the time on his watch, he was late. He moved slowly through the open gates and up a long gravel path until he was face to face with two ominous doors.

Dawn was the person who answered the door once Draco had rung the bell.

"Hi, can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm here with The Order of The Phoenix," he said cocking an eyebrow.

She smiled, "Follow me, the meeting's only just started." Draco nodded, stepping into the large, flag stoned hallway. He followed Dawn down what seemed to be a never-ending corridor. They passed large breakfast rooms that smelt distinctly of fish, and a training room the size of a small football pitch with over two dozen girls in it.

"What's your name?" he asked conversationally.

"Dawn," she replied shortly, he noticed how she didn't return the favour of asking him his.

Draco and Dawn soon entered the same room Buffy had with Xander the previous night, however it was a lot fuller. Giles was the first to notice the two younger members of their operation.

"Buffy, show Dawn and the boy to their seats will you?" Giles whispered. And Buffy who had talked to Dawn last night about what was to be a long road to forgiveness, moved forward. As she did she distinctly heard Xander hiss to Faith, "It looks like we've got a mini Spike to deal with."

"Well before I start, may I just say what a pleasure it is to have you all come all the way here to help us," Giles said gesturing towards McGonagall, Snape, Moody and Malfoy, who were the only Order members who could make it. They all nodded curtly in response.

"Likewise I'm sure," Moody smirked.

Draco found himself nodding off as they talked tactics and swapped stories. It was only when Buffy spoke that his head snapped up.

"So you're saying that this guy Harry Potter is dead, but no one's actually found a body?" she asked. Silence followed her question.

"Well what do you expect us to do Miss Summers?" Snape asked, sneering, "Go and look for the boy?"

Buffy smiled. "Actually that's not a bad idea. What do you all think about going on a search party? I mean it's totally your call but I was thinking we could use magic to help us track him down…" she trailed off, it almost felt strange to be asking permission for one of her plans to be put into action.

"Well Miss Summers I suppose we could try, although just because there is no body does not mean he is alive. Something has changed I can feel it. Anyway it can't hurt to look what do you say?" Asked McGonagall.

Snape looked at McGonagall skeptically and then turned his gaze to Buffy "I don't suppose you actually think that there is even the slightest chance of you finding Potter, Miss Summers," He hissed derisively, Buffy answered him with a defiant nod, "Oh you do? Well then you yanks are even stupider than I thought. The boy is dead and no amount of searching is going to change that. I just hope it won't take too long for that piece of novelty information to penetrate your thick skull."

Dawn was looking at him, rage seeping through her eyes and over her jumper like lava.

"Hold your tongue, Severus!" Moody growled, "And keep your greasy hair on while you're at it. The girl has a point, it can't hurt to look. We can get Draco and his friends to do all the leg work over their holidays, what do you say?"

Draco felt a bubble of excitement rising in his chest; if there was even the slightest possibility that Harry was alive then…well it was something. "Yes Professor, I'd be happy to help and I'm sure the others would be too. Why don't you get the Weasleys to help and Granger, after all they knew him the best," he drawled, trying to contain a smile from gracing his face.

"Of course, of course. What do you think about this Rupert?" McGonagall asked.

Giles removed his glasses and began to clean them, "Well, you're right, it won't hurt to look, but I'm just not to sure about you finding him. If he is alive then why wouldn't he contact someone?" Giles in truth highly doubted the possibility of Harry being alive; everything was looking rather bleak to him. It was like an old painting he had once seen abandoned on the street; the canvas merely depicted a long gray river, the murky depths of the water had swallowed a ton of rubbish and had gone from pure blue to stinking green and grey.

"What about at Hogwarts, don't you want some of us stationed there?" Buffy asked.

McGonagall and Snape exchanged glances, "Well, we are in need of a new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher," said McGonagall. Snape had gone back to teaching potions after Slughorn's abrupt departure from the job.

"Well may I suggest you have two teachers, one teaching physical defence and another to cover the more magical aspects?" Giles asked.

"Yeah we could get Faith and Willow over there," Xander suggested.

"That should be fine," McGonagall answered.

"How about you Faithy, fancy debauching a load of private school kiddies?" Buffy asked, with a smirk.

"Five by five B, I'd love to do it. Who's gonna call Willow?" Xander raised his hand in answer to Faiths question.

"Well I do hope that there will be no…uhm debauching," McGonagall stuttered, "Faith and her colleague will find a train waiting for them at King's Cross station, platform nine and three quarters. From there they will be taken to Hogsmeade station, where a man will be waiting for them outside. Don't worry you won't miss him he's rather uhm…distinguished."

Everyone around the table smiled. The light outside the windows was starting to fade as the clock struck four, and the occupants could hear the stampede of footsteps overhead, which was the Slayers heading to their Watchers for instructions on patrolling. Draco then realized how much he didn't want to go back to Hogwarts; the tension that he had to deal with was unbearable. Nobody believed his innocence in the crime…well at least some of them tried to, but it was more for their own sakes than his.

That night it was bitterly cold, the wind lashing against the walls of the house. Dawn sat down on the back steps, listening to the temporary hush of the night. She shivered in her thin jumper and jeans as rain started to pour down in heavy drops onto the grass. Soon she knew lightning and thunder would start to consume the sky, but just then it was quiet.

"You're gonna catch your death," Buffy warned from behind her. She could see her older sister's shadow splayed across the grass from the warm lights of the house.

"Not cold," Dawn replied.

"I like the weather like this, sometimes when I was alone in Scotland I'd stand on the balcony and wait until I was soaked. I felt like the whole world could stop and it wouldn't matter, I was just peaceful."

Dawn loved times like this, when they seemed to feel the same thing. It gave her a sense of closure to know that nature could be so wild, but she was still there, just one thing among many.

"You look untouchable," Buffy said.

"I am."

Red seemed to be the only colour in Hermione's life, red for blood, red for passion, red for fire, red for Ron. His hand fumbled clumsily up her shirt, groping her breast through the fabric of her bra. She sighed wearily, he mistook it for a sigh of passion and started to increase the almost painful antics. He moaned onto her neck as he mauled her body.

"'Mione, Jesus." She was about to push him of her when she felt him tense and shudder against her. 'Shit' she thought.

Ron stood back from her sheepishly and without the support of his hands Hermione slid slightly down the wall they'd been leaning against.

"Uhm…I'm sorry Hermione, I didn't…" he said blushing almost as red as his hair.

"Don't worry about it," she replied straightening out her school uniform. "Listen Ron, I'm not sure if us getting together is such a good idea." Hermione was the one blushing this time.

"Yeah I know, it's just it's hard you know."

Ron came to stand next to her and the two slid down the wall, sitting down beneath a painting of a rather startled mouse. Their dark grey school bags, black trousers and skirt clashed with the wall and the smooth surface of the floor, cold as ice to the touch.

"I wish we could have saved him some how," Hermione said after a comfortable silence.

"How the bloody hell do you think we would have done that?"

She shrugged, "I talked to McGonagall when she came back from that meeting we weren't allowed to go to, we're getting two new Defence teachers."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? When are they coming, we can see how long these two last."

Hermione sniffed at him disapprovingly. "Tomorrow, early in the morning."

The two stayed in their positions, staring blankly out at the opposite wall, just as grey as the one they lent against, the mundanity contradicting entirely the loud, fiery energy of their thoughts.

The cornfield looked golden and pink in the sunset. A green snake made its track across the corn as it slithered to a small clearing in the middle. A man stood in black robes, so dark against the gold of the corn that it looked like a chunk of space had been taken and placed there. He slowly took a knife out of his pocket and raised it, that's when the snake noticed a blond girl lying gagged and tied on the ground. The man reached down and raised her up by her bound hands. He suddenly turned towards the snake, piercing red eyes boring down onto him.

"Kill her," he hissed, before slitting the girl's throat. She fell with a thud, blood trickling onto the shining, pure corn.

Harry bolted upright in his bed sweat running down his face. He lay back down quickly.

"Fuck me," he muttered, running the dream over in his mind. He shut his eyes tightly, consoling himself with the thought that it was only a dream and he was not a snake: he was Harry James Walker and his twin sister Emily Walker was sleeping in the room just next to his, her snores reverberating through the walls, like a long forgotten lullaby sending him into sweet oblivion.