"You need to tell me everything about these Death Eaters and I'll tell you about Scorpia"

The man's name was Coleman, though very few people knew this. For those that did, his name was just about the only thing they did know. Even the people who worked closely with him knew nothing about the man behind the meticulous suit and tie and carefully trimmed hair and moustache. That was the way he liked it.

Sitting behind his ornate wooden desk, Coleman read the file before him and allowed himself a small smile. It had been a long time since they had made any progress and this was a real breakthrough. After reading the file he stood up and threw the papers into the fire, watching them as they curled and blackened into ashes. From a pot on the grand mantelpiece he extracted a few nuts and preceded to throw them to the handsome eagle owl, which had been surveying the room with large amber eyes, form its perch.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," Coleman said, his words clipped and authoritative. The door opened and a man stepped in, seeming to take up the whole doorway as he did so. He was tall, with a short fuzz of hair covering his head, a square, powerful jaw and baby blue eyes. The muscles rippled under his tight-fitting black suit as he moved.

"You wanted to see me, sir," said the man, revealing only a hint of a French accent. If he had any surprise about the room's strange décor, the owl in the corner or the bizarre looking newspaper lying on the desk in front of him, he didn't let it show. Scorpia did not pay him to ask question, least of all to the head. It was common knowledge the last man who had, ended up at the bottom of the Thames with lead weights in his shoes.

"Yes, Sebastian. I have just been reading the latest report. This news pleases me." Coleman sat back down behind his desk, leaning back in his chair as he did so. "I presume there won't be any more delay." It wasn't a question but Sebastian answered it anyway.

"No sir. They've been working hard. It shouldn't take long now."

"Excellent." He picked up a quill and began writing. Without looking up he said, "Words have reached me however, that there was a disturbance last night." Coleman scratched out something with his quill.

"Yes sir," said Sebastian, "One of the factory workers found the lab. He was caught and questioned but he got away. I would not worry sir, he was only a boy."

"A boy who found the lab and got away," said Coleman, still without raising his head.

"We sent out people. I am waiting to hear from them."

"Make sure he is found. Nothing will jeopardise this." At this last statement, he finally looked up, his pale grey eyes meeting the blue ones.

"I will see to it sir." Sebastian nodded his head curtly and left.

Coleman laid down his quill and considered the report again. He longed to tell, to let someone know of his extraordinary achievement. He had suffered too much humiliation. It was ironic that here, in the world he hated so much, he was respected, even feared. And yet in his own world, the world he craved to belong in had looked at him as though he were a piece of filth on the bottom of their cauldron. But that was all going to change. It would not be long before wizards also looked at him with respect, maybe even the Dark Lord himself!

He had had to work hard for this, and had given up much. But that was what was required of him. He was used to always having to work that little bit harder.

That was life, he knew. Especially for someone like him. For a squib.

xxx

Harry woke with a familiar prickling in his scar. With it brought the usual squirm in his stomach and the accompanying thought of what is Voldemort doing now? What is it this time?

These feelings were momentarily banished when he opened his eyes and saw the unfamiliar room about him, and it took a few seconds for his memory to catch up with him.

He and Alex hadn't had that much of a chance to speak last night. After introducing him to Jack (and leaving out most of the details) Alex had wanted to start discussing things right away but Jack insisted that they both get some sleep and whatever it was that was so important could wait until morning. She showed Harry up to the spear room and Harry noticed her staring at him curiously, questions forming on her lips and an uncertain, worried look creasing her face. But she bade him goodnight and went back downstairs to tend to Alex's cuts and bruises.

Despite his questions, Harry must have been more exhausted than he'd thought, because he fell asleep almost at once. Now, he sat up in bed and stretched, surveying the room in the semidarkness but not really taking anything in. His mind had wandered to the previous night. How could Death Eaters be working with muggles? It made no sense. He wished Ron or Hermione were here. They would have gone over the countless possibilities for hours and although they probably wouldn't get anywhere, it still felt like they were doing something. The image of the three of them grouped around the Gryffindor fireplace talking, late into the night came to him. Hermione's reasonable theories and Ron's bracing comments. He hadn't realised just how much he would miss the two of them. The temptation to write out letters to them then and there was extremely tempting but he decided against it. He wasn't stupid enough to send information by owl and besides, Hedwig was away. He had sent her off, back at the Dursleys, telling her to go to Ron's for the time being. He would be too conspicuous with her.

Harry rolled out of bed and started to dress. He couldn't hear any movement within the house, only some distant early morning commuters on the main road, never the less he felt tense. He knew it was just his scar, sending his mind into paranoid overdrive, that it was only Voldemort feeling emotion. It had worried a few weeks ago because he had gotten used to the long absence of his scar hurting. Now all of a sudden he was accessing Voldemort's feelings again.

Getting up, Harry padded across the hall to the bathroom on the landing, feeling again, the weight of what lay before him and wishing that Dumbledore had left him, even the slightest bit of help.

xxx

Alex curled his hands around a mug of tea, but it had gone cold ages ago. He stared into the murky depth and stifled a yawn. He had only managed a few hours of sleep last night, not that he was surprised. It was hard to sleep with so many questions. And these questions were even more insane than usual. His dreams had been plagued with images of cloaked figures with guns that shot red sparks into the night form which there was no escaping.

Alex glanced at the ceiling and wondered if Harry was awake. How long did it take? Surely the guy would have to wake up soon? Jack had left the house earlier, though only after much persuading on his part. They had talked the night before as she dabbed antiseptic on his various cuts.

"So, who is he anyway? Another spy?" she had asked.

"Something like that. I don't really understand it myself, but he's involved and...I think I need his help."

"Doesn't look much like spy material" said Jack, chucking a cotton wool ball into the bin behind her, "I mean, he's a bit on the skinny side."

Alex shrugged, "To be honest I don't know much about him. And, well..."

"Don't worry, I get it. You can't tell me. Just be careful. You don't even know if you can trust him."

Jack's words from last night came back to him now. It was a risk, he knew, to trust anyone other than himself but Harry was his only option. And besides, Jack was right, Alex was probably a lot stronger than him and could take him on easily in a fight. But then again, he didn't have magic powers. He supposed that would count as a few points on Harry's side.

He looked up suddenly when he heard movement from upstairs. Finally...

Alex took his mug over to the sink and tipped out the cold tea. He then began to rinse it out, purely for something to do. He had just dried it off with a dishtowel, when Harry came in, his hair sticking up at odd angles and yawning widely.

"You took your time," said Alex, more coldly than he'd intended.

Harry shrugged, "Sorry, I didn't know we had schedule here."

Alex raised an eyebrow, "whatever. There's some cereal in the cupboard if you want it. And there's tea, coffee, orange juice. Help yourself."

"Uh, right. Thanks."

Alex sat back down at the kitchen table as Harry poured himself some cereal. "Looks like your protective charms worked then," he said. He'd been unsure about it last night when Harry had started muttering incantations under his breath and pointing his wand at the front door. But he'd explained that it was protective magic and that if anyone was trying to get in they would know about it. Jack had been upstairs making up the spare room at the time and had seen nothing, but Alex wished she had. It would have been helpful to have someone to discuss this with, so he could know what to make of it.

"To be honest they're probably not that powerful," Harry admitted, taking a seat opposite Alex and picking up his spoon, "They'll hold up against muggles but I'm not sure how useful they'll be against dark magic."

Alex tilted his head to one side, "So, it's more than just learning the right words then?"

Harry swallowed a mouthful of cornflakes and nodded, "It depends on the spell, but there's wand movements, pronunciation and your own thoughts as well." He shrugged, "I only learnt a few protective spells this summer. My friend Hermione could probably make more powerful ones."

Alex nodded but couldn't help thinking what made Harry so special? He'd just admitted he wasn't brilliant at magic, yet here he was trying to save the world. There were probably still lots he didn't know about him.

They sat in silence until Harry finished his breakfast and took the empty bowl over to the sink. Once he'd sat back down again Alex said, "So, what can you tell me about the Death Eaters?"

"Everything I know," said Harry, "But then you have to tell me about Scorpia."

xxx

Harry started with the story of Voldemort himself. Not in nearly as much detail as he and Dumbledore had gone into, but enough for the other boy to get a clear picture of what they were dealing with. Alex's face remained the same as he spoke, and he didn't interrupt. Harry had the feeling he knew the importance of information and would wait until harry was finished before questioning him. Harry spoke of the last war, of how many had died, including his parents. Again he only gave the details, cold facts allowing no emotion to enter his voice. "And then he came back," he said eventually, "He's regained his former body and is terrorising everyone. People are living in fear of being murdered in their beds...He's taking over."

"How did he come back?" said Alex, speaking for the first time in a while.

"I can't tell you everything but what I can say is that Voldemort will go to any lengths to cheat death. His worst fear is dying. He made himself...a sort of backup plan. It was dark magic he used to come back."

Alex opened his mouth to say something then paused and Harry had the feeling he had changed his mind. Eventually he said, "So what's happening now?"

"Well, the chaos started last year, you probably heard stuff on the news. Strange deaths, disappearances. That was the Death Eaters. It's not only wizards they're targeting."

"But things are being done about it right?" said Alex almost desperately, "I mean, people are resisting?"

"Yeah, there's the ministry of magic, but they're not that much help. They're too scared to act properly. Then there's the Order of the Phoenix. They're doing everything they can to stop him taking over. A lot of my friends are members."

"Maybe we could ask them. See if they know what's going on."

Harry shook his head, "I'm not associating myself with them. I'd only end up..."

"Putting them in more danger." Alex finished the sentence for him. "I know what it's like" he said quietly.

In that moment Harry felt a connection with Alex. They were both going through the same things, fighting an all too similar battle. They weren't as dissimilar as he'd first thought.

"Right," he said, sitting up, "We need a plan."

xxx

Coleman watched the tape carefully. He paused it, then played it back, watching for the second time, the athletic looking boy sprint across the car park and his men in hot pursuit. He froze the image and zoomed in, so that the boy's face filled the screen.

Of course he knew the face. It was a few years ago, true. But he had seen for himself what the boy could do. It was his fault Julia Rothmen had met her so embarrassing demise. And even when they'd sent one of their best snipers after him he had still wriggled out, unscathed. Well, nearly.

"You know what this means Sebastian?" Coleman said coldly, he did not wait for a reply, "It means that MI6 are suspicious. I want him killed."

"Yes, sir. I will see to it personally."

"See that you do. I will not have all these months of planning go to waste for anything, and especially not Rider.


So that's chapter four! Sorry it is all lots of talking just now and not much action but it will pick up in the next chapter, I promise!

THnaks again for all your comments and please continue to review coz it really helps.

Cheers. Horror.