Disclaimer: Anything recognisable belongs to J.K. Rowling.
. o O o . 52 . o O o .
Men in Black Dresses
The McKennas arrived back the next morning, having stayed the night at their relative's place.
The first he knew of them being back was when he woke to Aislinn shaking his shoulder lightly. He opened his eyes and then squeezed them shut; the light shining in the window was far too bright.
He sat up and squinted at her. "You're home. What time is it?"
"Just past twelve."
Harry looked at the clock, surprised he had slept so late. "How long have you been back?"
"A few hours. Mam says you should get up and come and get something to eat. Lunch will be ready soon."
Harry groaned and flopped back down. "Too tired," he muttered, then pulled her down onto the bed next to him. Aislinn propped herself up on her elbow and leaned over him, her hair cascading around them in a curtain.
She placed a kiss on his forehead, then the side of his face, then his jaw. "I missed you while we were gone."
"Missed you too," he replied, leaning up to kiss her.
After a good few minutes, Harry decided he really should get up. He stood and pulled Aislinn with him, not breaking the kiss until they were both up. His stomach rumbled. Aislinn grinned. "Come on, let's get you something to eat."
She turned around while he got changed.
As Harry finished tying his laces, she picked up the mirror from where he had dropped it on the floor the previous night. She turned it over, and then back again, staring into the mirrored surface. "Is this yours?"
"Yeah." Harry reached out and took it off her, ignoring her surprised expression. He placed it face down on the bench and took her hand, giving her a smile. "Come on, let's go. I'm starving."
She frowned at his abrupt manner, but let him lead her down the stairs and outside.
After lunch, Aislinn took him horse riding.
"It's like flying," she said, standing up in her saddle after galloping around a paddock while Harry watched.
Harry smiled wryly. He found it slow and awkward; the horse was difficult to handle, and he couldn't go anywhere near as fast as he was used to.
...
"The strangest thing happened just earlier," remarked Niall when everyone was nearly finished dinner that night. "I was heading back to the truck, from the Far Field, and I could have sworn I saw a man in a dress, walking down the road. Then I looked again, and he was gone."
Harry choked on his mouthful of food.
"A man walking around here, in a dress? I think you're imagining things dear."
"Yeah, Dad. The only people close to the Far Field are the Flanagans, and I doubt any of them would be caught dead in a dress."
"What colour was his dress?"
The three McKennas turned to him with amused looks, and Aislinn laughed.
Niall chuckled. "It was black."
Harry rushed the rest of his meal, but then ended up helping Aislinn wash the dishes. As soon as they'd finished, he said goodnight, feigning tiredness.
The yard around the house was dark and silent; there was no sign of anyone there. He armed himself with his wand and made a quick lap of the house, and then headed for the barn, glancing towards the dark trees around him and wondering if he was being watched.
He rounded the far side of the barn, and there, standing and surveying the dark fields, was Snape.
Harry felt a burst of cautious relief, but he also felt angry, perhaps irrationally so, at seeing his black-robed professor.
"What are you doing here?" snarled Harry.
Snape turned his head to look at Harry. "Relieving your mind," he sneered.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the comment.
Snape turned to face him fully. "You were clearly worried enough to send that letter to Lupin, as you should have been. I am here to ease your worry."
Harry tried not to let his relief show, though he was sure it must be rolling off him in waves. "So it was you."
"It was," replied Snape shortly, looking towards the house.
Harry finally understood just how good at Legilimency Snape was.
"Lupin happened to glance at the mirror, quite purely by chance. He passed it on to me so that I might determine your whereabouts."
Harry scowled.
"And have you told anyone else of my whereabouts?"
"Not as yet," said Snape, after a moment's pause.
"But you're going too," said Harry, more of a statement than a question.
"Most likely."
"And then there'll be Order members swarming around the place, pretending that that makes me safer, won't there?"
"Dumbledore may post someone here to watch you."
"I don't want to be watched!" Harry hissed. "And if there are Order members Flooing or apparating back and forth, don't you think people are going to notice? I'm safer without that."
Snape crossed his arms, tapping his wand idly against his shoulder and staring intently at Harry. "Perhaps. The choice is the Headmaster's."
Harry snorted, and then had a thought. "Wait, no it isn't! It's your choice, not his. You don't have to tell him where I am at all. I'm fine, as you can clearly see, and I'll continue to be fine without being babysat. Since he trusts you so much, Dumbledore ought to believe you when you tell him I'm safe."
"The Order wants to protect you, Potter."
"The Order wanted to protect my mother, too," he retorted, knowing the words would sting.
Snape blanched.
"And that didn't really go according to plan, did it? If only you know, I only have to worry that I can't trust one person. So it's your choice." With that, Harry stormed into the barn, in a foul mood. He didn't know whether or not Snape was going to tell the Order where he was. As well, his scar was bothering him. It wasn't particularly painful, just niggling at him in an extremely frustrating way.
He tossed and turned in his bed, yet again unable to fall asleep.
He felt like he'd hardly slept in the last few days and he was tired, but after two hours of staring wide eyed at the ceiling, the window, the floor, he got out of bed. He simply couldn't get comfortable.
He hadn't been flying since before leaving Hogwarts, and there was a sort of tension in his shoulders that he could only explain as the need to stretch his wings.
He picked up his wand holster, and without changing out of his pyjamas, he went downstairs and out into the cold.
Wands were far too complex objects to transfigure, which was why the automatically adjusting holster was perfect for an animagus.
He slipped it on to his ankle underneath his pants, since when he transformed he didn't have arms, and secured his wand.
Then, with a quick glance around to ensure none of the McKennas had decided to go for a midnight wander, he transformed.
Harry spent a blissful couple of hours spinning and looping gracefully through the air. The only sound was the wind and the rush of air when he flapped his wings, and as usual, flying relaxed him completely.
He began the return journey, and was close to the house and barn when movement to the right caught his eye.
Harry circled around and his sharp eyes focussed on the source of the movement. There was a person, moving slowly through one of the fields nearest the house.
The dark figure walked slowly, and Harry realised they were following the same path he had traced when creating his
With a jolt of fear, Harry realised it could be a Death Eater, trying to get past his wards. Suddenly though, the wind shifted, blowing from the figure's direction and he caught the man's scent. He relaxed slightly, recognising the smell of various potions ingredients. What was Snape still doing here?
Harry slithered closer, pushing his serpentine body through the snow with his back legs. He made no sound whatsoever. Eventually, he got close enough to hear the muttered chant coming from Snape. It was one he didn't recognise, but Snape's arm was rigid at his side, his wand pointed directly at the ground, and Harry realised he was strengthening Harry's ward with his own. Of course, it stood to reason that Snape would know stronger wards than were in his seventh year text books.
He knew it was the early hours of the new day; Snape must have spent the past few hours tracing Harry's path.
He watched at a distance, slithering slowly behind as Snape tread a now evident path through the snow.
Finally, Snape came to a stop.
It appeared he had finished, or was taking a break as Harry had. The Potions Master let out a huff of air, rolling his neck.
For a few moments he stood, hands on hips, staring at the stars. Suddenly, there was a sharp intake of breath, and his left arm tensed.
Harry heard a sigh, and realised that Voldemort was calling Death Eaters. It seemed to go on for some time though, and he could hear the steady increase of Snape's heart rate, as his breathing turned into pained gasps.
He wondered if perhaps it wasn't Voldemort calling Death Eaters. Was he punishing Snape in the only way he could reach him?
Harry was about to transform and step over to help Snape, when it abruptly stopped. After a minute Snape's breathing returned to normal, and he slipped a large vial from some deep pocket, downing the entire contents.
Satisfied that Snape was fine, and feeling suddenly tired, Harry retreated some distance behind the man and took to the air.
He thought he'd gone far enough that Snape wouldn't see him, but a sharp gasp caused him to look around. The Potions Master had turned around without Harry realising, and he was now staring up at Harry's dark figure in the sky. Annoyed, Harry flew as fast and as high as he could in the opposite direction of the house. He didn't know how well Snape had seen him, but there were no birds anywhere near as big as a wyvern.
Harry came to land in a stand of trees, where he transformed. It was far too far for him to walk back, and he didn't want to fly in case Snape was still around.
He apparated instead, to just outside the wards on the opposite side of the barn to where Snape had been.
He saw no one as he jogged into the barn.
oOo
For the rest of his time there, Harry kept the mirror in his pocket, guiltily relieved at knowing that Snape had the other. He could be as angry at Snape as he wanted, and say whatever things he wished to him, and Snape would still come if Harry needed help.
He didn't catch sight of any Order members, so either Snape had decided not to tell them where he was, or whoever was there was doing a very good job of staying out of sight. Of course, with a disillusionment charm, that wasn't particularly difficult.
Aislinn returned to school a few days after Christmas, and Harry stayed on at the farm for two more days, spending the daylight hours helping Niall around the farm and the nighttimes flying or doing school work when he couldn't sleep.
It occurred to him on his last night on the farm that he was turning into something of an insomniac as of late, and he wondered at the reason.
Niall took a few hours out of his day to drive Harry to the ferry, and rather than apparating Harry spent the money for the trip, standing out on the deck of the ferry as he had the first time over. It was freezing, with a light spray of sea water over his exposed skin and the cold wind blowing, but it numbed the tingle he was feeling in his scar.
Once off the ferry, he apparated directly to Grimmauld Place and walked up the steps, knocking on the door.
It opened a few moments later, and Harry saw Lupin.
"Harry!" Lupin glanced sideways at Mrs. Black's portrait and then beckoned Harry in, closing the door behind him. They walked past the curtained portrait and into the hallway.
"This is a surprise," commented Remus, smiling at Harry, "but I'm glad you came by. We've all been wondering where you got to."
"Snape didn't tell you then?"
Remus shook his head no. "He may have told Dumbledore, I don't know for sure, but as far as I'm aware, no one was sent to keep an eye on you, as I thought they would have been if Snape had told anyone. After all, You-Know-Who has been quite prolific in his attacks recently."
Harry's interest was piqued. "I haven't been reading the paper lately. What's been going on?"
Lupin indicated that they should walk. "Several prominent ministry representatives and their families have been murdered in the past ten days, all of them muggleborn or half-bloods. The positions within the ministry have been filled by people known by us to be death Eaters, or at least connected to them. Except one, a man called Jerrod Keller. He wasn't on our books at all, but we're keeping an eye on him now, having him followed to try and find out if he's a Death Eater or not. We strongly suspect he is, given that Thorn has placed him in a position of power within the ministry."
Harry followed Lupin into the kitchen. "What department is he in?"
"He's in charge of the Department for Muggle Relations, which includes dealing with any muggleborns who are a part of the wizarding world."
Harry frowned. "What sort of damage could he do there?"
Remus shrugged as he filled the kettle with water. "We aren't entirely sure yet, but according to Kingsley, there's been talk sifting down through the ranks of the ministry saying Septimus Thorne is planning to bring in several radical new laws concerning muggleborns and half-bloods. Given that he's a Death Eater, that doesn't bode well for us at all. By the way, best not to tell anyone that I told you any of this."
They lapsed into a brief silence, broken when Remus said, "I was just making lunch before you arrived. Do you want a sandwich?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, thanks. I'll be right back."
He exited the kitchen and went up the stairs to the second floor, walking down the hallway a short way.
He knocked on Dudley's door and heard no answer. After knocking a second time, he opened the door and peered inside. Apart from the bed and the desk, the room was empty. Frowning, he went to the room Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been in and opened it without knocking. It too was empty. He'd wondered when the Dursleys had been going to leave, but he hadn't expected to turn up and find them gone.
When he returned to the kitchen, Remus was just putting the sandwiches on plates. Harry sat down at the table and took one. "Where are the Dursleys? Have they gone back to Privet Drive?"
Lupin shook his head. "No, your uncle flat out refused to return there. He's convinced they won't be safe. They've moved into a nice little place about half an hour's walk away. Nice area."
"Oh." Harry felt a bit guilty that he didn't know; he'd promised Dudley that he'd write, and he'd only done so about twice. "How long ago did that happen?"
Remus frowned, thinking. "Not too long ago, a couple of weeks, I guess." He smiled. "They were so rarely down in the main living areas, I hardly notice that they aren't here anymore."
"Mm. Still, must be more pleasant knowing they aren't even in the house."
Lupin shrugged. "I suppose, though they were good company."
Harry nearly choked. "The Dursleys? Good company, are you serious?"
Lupin smiled."Well, not your uncle, obviously, but I knew Petunia when we were younger; from the times I visited Lily, so we had things we could talk about. Your cousin, too, seemed quite pleasant when his parents weren't around. He was full of questions actually."
Harry raised his eyebrows and took a sip of the tea Remus poured him. He noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet on the table and pulled it closer. The article on the front page was about one of the families that Lupin had mentioned; unlike the others, they had been murdered in public, in the middle of Diagon Alley in the middle of the day. According to the article, the father had been killed first. Voldemort had then turned is wand on the wife, who had been shielding her son, begging for him not to be harmed. She was ignored.
Harry traced over his scar, thinking.
"Harry?" question Remus, seeing the action. "Is your scar bothering you?"
Harry shook his head, his eyes still on the article. "No." He considered the article a moment more. "I was just wondering – this woman obviously died protecting her son, like mum did for me. But her son is still dead. Why was it any different to my mother dying to protect me?"
Remus face softened. "Harry, no one knows what was special about that night, but for some reason you were meant to live."
The memory of that night flashed through his mind, and he remember his mother begging Voldemort not to kill him, remembered when he'd snarled at her to step aside, remembered two flashes of sickly green light.
"He wasn't going to kill her," he whispered. "My mother, I mean."
Remus cleared his throat and glanced down into his cup of tea. "I doubt that, Harry. After all, he killed James, the pureblood, and he certainly isn't known for being merciful to muggleborns."
Harry doubted Snape would appreciate it if he told Lupin about how he had asked Voldemort to spare his mother. "No, but I remember Remus." Harry put the newspaper down and leaned forward. "He kept telling her to step aside, but she wouldn't."
Lupin's eyes grew sadder. "Yes, your mother... Lily... would have done anything to protect you; would have rather sacrificed her own life than allow you to be hurt."
"Sacrifice..." repeated Harry almost silently. "It was only a sacrifice because he wasn't going to kill her. Mum asked him to kill her instead of me, and then he did..."
"What was that?" asked Remus, leaning closer to hear better.
Harry forced a smile and shook his head. "Nothing. I was thinking I might visit the Dursleys. What's the address?"
"Number four, Worthington Lane."
"Number four again..." mumbled Harry. "Alright, well I'm going to go then. Thanks for lunch."
Remus walked him out and gave him directions to the Dursleys and Harry set off along the street.
It took him a little less than half an hour to walk to the Dursley's new street.
Remus had been right; it was a nice area. Apartment buildings, some made of stone and some newer looking ones, ran along each side of the road. He passed a small cafe on a corner. There were decorative trees dotted here and there along the pavement path, and the street was immaculate, with neatly trimmed lawns and not a piece of rubbish anywhere.
Harry was approaching number four when he saw a familiar figure in orange knickerbockers and a straw hat, swinging a cane around as he walked.
He'd lost even more weight that the last time Harry had seen him, and was actually looking quite trim. Probably a result of Aunt Petunia not wanting him to eat too much 'freakish' food.
Harry crossed quickly over the road and walked up behind him.
"Still going Smeltings then?"
Dudley looked around, a surprised expression on his face. "Harry! What are you doing here?"
Harry fell into step beside his cousin. "Came to see you, Duds. How's everything going?"
Dudley nodded. "Really good. London is heaps better than Surrey, and it's good not to have to go all the way back to Privet Drive on weekends. When do you go back to school anyway?"
"Tomorrow. Have to catch the train from King's Cross."
"Where are you staying?"
Harry considered that. He hadn't really thought about it yet. "Maybe just at Grimmauld Place. I hadn't really thought about it."
Dudley slowed and came to a stop outside a nice looking place. "Well, this is it," he said, nodding towards the door. "Do you want to come in, have a look around?"
Harry wrinkled his nose, imagining Aunt Petunia gossiping on the phone while Uncle Vernon complained loudly at the news. "Nah, better not."
Dudley shrugged, but smiled knowingly. "Okay."
"I'll owl you," said Harry, stepping down from the steps to the footpath.
Dudley stopped, his hand on the door knob. "You don't have to, you know, not if you don't want." Dudley looked slightly ashamed then. "I know I've never given you much reason to like me."
Harry was surprised by the almost-apology. "I do want to. I've just... been busy... well, not especially, but I've had things on my mind." He shrugged apologetically and Dudley rolled his eyes.
Harry grinned. "See you later Duds."
"Bye Harry."
...
Harry headed straight back to Grimmauld Place, since he didn't really have much else to do. This time the door was opened by Tonks, who smiled brightly at him. "Harry! Remus told me you'd dropped by earlier. Lovely to see you."
Harry followed her into the kitchen, where several Order members were gathered around the table. He exchanged polite hellos, and let Mrs. Weasley fuss over him, though for once she couldn't complain that he was too skinny.
A few more people arrived and Harry suspected there might be an Order meeting scheduled for that afternoon.
A half hour later, the kitchen was getting quite full, and he was asked to leave the room.
Harry started to rise, but then stopped.
"When am I going to be allowed to join the Order?"
The others around the table exchanged glances. "I don't think it's going to happen, Potter," replied Moody gruffly.
Harry leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Why not? I'm of age. Fred and George got to join when they were of age."
"Yes, well, in my opinion they shouldn't have been allowed," sniffed Mrs. Weasley.
Kingsley sat down opposite him and looked him in the eye. "If you were caught, imagine the information that could be gotten from you."
"The same as could be gotten from any of you, I would imagine," snapped Harry.
"Harry," said Lupin gently, trying to reason with him, "Other members of the Order aren't being directly targeted."
"How can you say that?" he scoffed. "Of course they are! Dumbledore and Snape, for starters," he argued, pointing in the direction of the two. "And they know more than anybody."
"You have a unique connection with You-Know-Who. We cannot risk that he will find a way to use it to his advantage."
"He doesn't know anything about it! He thinks he can send me fake dreams like he did with Sirius, and that's it."
"I'm afraid the answer remains no, Harry," responded Dumbledore. "There is simply too much to be lost."
Harry stared around the table, looking for someone to back him up, but it seemed they were all decided.
"What the hell do I have to do to prove myself to you people? All I want to do is help." Harry slapped his hand down on the table. "He killed my parents!" No one answered him, and he felt a bit childish when he added, "This isn't fair!"
"You have known for a long time that life is not fair, Potter," said a quiet voice.
Harry's blood boiled at Snape's words and he turned to face the Potions Master, his expression livid. "Yeah, if life was fair you'd be rotting in Azkaban for the things you've done!" he yelled.
There was silence in the kitchen.
Harry stood abruptly, knocking his chair over. It hit the floor with a loud crack.
"Harry... that's unnecessary," began Remus. "Professor Snape has done a lot to-"
"Don't make excuses for the bastard, Remus. He's one of the ones that killed your best friend!" hissed Harry, ignoring the shocked looks of people in the room. Without another word Harry stormed out. He heard the door open behind him, but he didn't turn around to see who was following him. He could hear several sets of voices, but he was deaf to whatever they were saying.
He grabbed his shrunken trunk from the side table in the hallway where he'd left it and kept walking, out of Grimmauld Place and into the street. He apparated blindly before anyone could catch up with him, appearing, to his surprise, outside of number four, Privet Drive. The windows were dark and there were no signs of life.
A 'For Sale' sign was stuck in the middle of the front lawn. He'd mown that lawn and weeded those flower beds more times than he could possibly count.
Harry walked up to the front door. A simple Alohamora later and he was in the house.
His muddy shoes marked the carpet he'd vacuumed on so many occasions.
He walked around the ground floor and then went upstairs, but it was completely empty. Not one piece of furniture remained. When he glanced into the room that had been his, he saw that the window was barless.
For some reason that made him angry. He went back downstairs. The door of the cupboard under the stairs was new; there no locks on it now.
He opened it and glared dispassionately at the small space. Salz poked his head out of Harry's collar and gave a hiss of displeasure.
Without realising it, his wand was in his hand, and he pointed it into the cupboard. "Incendio," he said, his voice void of any emotion.
He watched with satisfaction as the flames licked along the skirting boards, and made their way around to the carpet he was standing on. The carpet burned quickly, and Harry backed away, making his way into the kitchen. The walls of the house burned surprisingly fast, and there was soon smoke filling the room. He went into the lounge, and as he stood there, he heard several cracking sounds from outside. The front door opened just as flames began to lick at the carpet of the lounge.
He could see shadows through the thick smoke, and thought they were most likely Order members. He glanced once more around the room, hating every inch of it, then he apparated. There were no longer any wards on the house, hadn't been since he had left for good.
He apparated to the roof of a neighbour's house, steadying himself against the chimney. He could hear sirens, and a minute later he could see the lights of the fire truck. They were too late however. There was nothing to be done to save Number 4, Privet Drive.
They would put the fire out, but all that would be left would be an empty shell.
...
He waited until the fire trucks had left, and then apparated a final time, back to London. He walked out of the dirty alleyway he'd appeared in, donning his invisibility cloak as he did so, and walked a few blocks to King's Cross Station.
Platform Nine and Three Quarters was completely empty when he stepped through the barrier.
Not surprising, really, since the train didn't come for another twelve hours.
He slumped onto a bench, leaning against a brick pillar.
He un-shrunk his trunk, and dug around for some muggle money. He went back out into the muggle part of the station, still with his cloak on. It wasn't as busy as usual, and he looked up at the arrivals board to see the next train didn't get in for another hour.
After walking for a while, Harry found an out of the way vending machine and returned to the platform with two cans of soft drink and an assortment of salty and sugary foods.
He did a bit of work on his charms assignment while he ate, thinking while he worked about ways he could test it.
After that he talked to Salazar, but the snake went off after a while to look for something to eat.
The time passed slowly. He wanted to sleep; his eyes were itching with tiredness, but he didn't think it would be a good idea to fall asleep in the middle of the platform.
oOo
The arrival of the train the next morning woke Harry. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, though he knew he'd only gotten about three hours of sleep. Looking at his watch, he saw that students would start arriving shortly.
He stood up, gritting his teeth at the pain in his body from sleeping in such an awkward position. He brushed off the chip crumbs and picked up the empty cans, depositing them in a bin.
With nothing else to do, he put his trunk on the train and took a seat at the window.
At a quarter past eight, students began to arrive, and Harry caught sight of several Order members searching through the crowds. He was wearing his cloak, so there was no chance that they would see him staring out the window at them.
Harry sat watching the crowds of students and their parents congregating and saying goodbye to each other.
When student began finding compartments, he slid his cloak off and was shortly joined by Dean, Seamus and Neville.
Harry chatted with them for a few hours about their holidays, though he didn't say anything specific about where he'd been, and Seamus made no reference to having seen him.
After a while, Dean suggested Exploding Snap, but Harry excused himself, saying he wanted to go for a walk.
He left the compartment and wandered down the train.
Harry glanced in at windows as he passed, noting the happy looks on everyone's faces, until he passed a compartment with a lone figure sitting and staring dejectedly out the window.
He stopped, and after a moment's consideration he slid open the door and went in.
"Bad holiday?" asked Harry, pulling the blind on the window down and sitting opposite the Slytherin.
Malfoy sneered, but not at Harry. "It was an eye-opening indication of the rest of my life," he replied bitterly, not taking his eyes off the trees rushing by outside of the train.
"Yeah?"
Harry didn't say anything more than that, and Malfoy seemed happy not to elaborate, changing the subject. "I heard you're house burned down last night."
"Really?"
"Father told me."
"It was hardly my house. He does know I haven't lived there since the beginning of sixth year, doesn't he?"
Malfoy shrugged. "He still found it amusing."
Harry couldn't help the small smile that formed on his lips. "Did he?"
Malfoy must have realised the pleased tone in Harry's voice. "You don't look like you're all that bothered it. I was going to say I was sorry."
Harry doubted that Malfoy had been going to do anything of the sort, but answered anyway. "Well don't. I enjoyed watching it burn."
Malfoy looked surprised, and slightly suspicious of Harry's carefree attitude. "You were there?"
Harry's lips quirked. "Fires don't start themselves."
Malfoy's eyes opened wider. "Are you saying-"
There was a knock on the door, and Malfoy broke off.
"Anything from the lunch trolley, dears?" said the lunch lady, sliding the door open and looking in on them.
They both got some things to eat, and Harry bit into a warm pumpkin pasty. It was the first decent thing he'd had to eat since lunch with Remus the day before.
Suddenly Harry noticed Malfoy's cloak, which was bundled on the seat beside him, twitch. A small head popped out of the material, and a pale little nose sniffed at the air.
Malfoy broke a bit of the biscuit he was eating off and held it out to Gaspard, who hurried onto Malfoy's lap and began to nibble at the treat.
Harry restrained a smirk, but Malfoy caught some of the expression.
"Why do you have to get that look every time you see him?" asked Malfoy, scowling.
"What look?" asked Harry defensively, letting the smile come out.
Malfoy rolled his eyes and pulled a ball of blue foam out of his pocket. He tossed it onto the seat, and Gaspard immediately abandoned the biscuit and sprinted after the ball, which had tumbled to the floor of the carriage.
Harry watched for a while as the little ferret rolled around with the foam ball, biting it and giving the odd grunt when the ball got the better of him and he was rolled onto his back.
After a while, Malfoy said, "What did you mean by 'fires don't start themselves'? You didn't really, did you?"
Harry looked out the window. "Don't tell anyone," he said, with a tone of seriousness in his voice.
Malfoy smirked. "Well, well. Golden boy Potter is a pyromaniac. Who'd have thought?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not a pyromaniac. I just hated that house."
"I can relate to that," said Malfoy, the bitter look returning to his face.
"What's wrong with where you live?" questioned Harry, kicking the ball around for Gaspard to chase.
"Let's just say I'm not all that fond of our current guest."
Harry's eyes darted to Malfoy's face, which was again turned to look out the window.
"Why don't you do something to get rid of him then?" he asked slowly.
Malfoy scowled. "What exactly do you suggest I do? There's no one I can tell without incriminating my family."
"You could tell the Order. They already know your father is a Death Eater."
"What, so I should give them evidence of the fact?" retorted Malfoy, giving Harry a look like he was stupid.
"Well, no, you wouldn't have to. I mean, if the Order suddenly turned up at your place, he's not likely to hang around is he? You'd just have to make sure they turn up at a point when he's not going to be there."
'Even if I told someone that he's there, they still wouldn't be able to get to the Manor. We've had the Fidelius Charm since father got sent to Azkaban. Pretty much every Death Eater knows where the place is now though."
"Oh." Harry sat back, biting his lip. "Well who is your Secret Keeper?"
The Slytherin glanced at him quickly, and then back to the window.
"My father, my mother. Me. "
"So you could tell me, or the Order. Voldemort won't stick around once people know he's there and can get in."
Malfoy flinched at the name. "So I just waltz in to an Order meeting and give them the location of the Manor?" Malfoy snorted. "Right. And then someone let's slip that I'm the one who passed it on and I'm dead."
"Well how do you tell people normally?"
"One of us writes it in a note, shows it to whoever needs to know. That way nobody can overhear."
"A note could get lost," suggested Harry.
"Everyone is told to burn it when they're done." That was how the Order did it too, Harry remembered.
"Y-"
"Just drop it, Potter. It's not going to happen." Malfoy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his head against the back of the seat.
Harry shrugged. "Whatever. I was only trying to help."
A while later, Harry left and went back to the compartment where his friends were.
He got changed into his robes and joined in the conversation until they arrived at Hogsmeade Station.
oOo
Talk about lickety-split updating. Hope you all liked it.
Massive thanks to last chapter reviewers (all 33 of them!): elvanyaelanesse, oceanlover14, ching965, zoey zink, RainPure, Oversized Bucket, Vanessa riddle, taintedlegacy, chrisguy9017, Lady Black-Malfoy, Lexor, D4rkPr1nz, tallica343, SHuntress, Slytherin66, JustAnotherParallelDimension, Len87, -Yuna's Reincarnation -1, BadGirlgoesworse, Badbonita, black-heart-green-eyes, DarthReign, HPMiller, Gaelyn, amber v, ams71080, Sweet Heavens, Makurayami Ookami, rasul, Stygian Styx and
Tanka: Well, it wasn't Moldyshorts lol. Thanks for reviewing!
Ornella: Good to hear! As for the question you asked about animagi, I haven't decided just yet. At least one of them, I think. Thanks very much for the review : )
QuannanHade: lol well good guess. I myself was quite surprised when Seamus appeared there. I can't remember what colour hair Seamus has in the books/ movies, but in my mind he's a blondie :P Thanks as usual for reviewing!
