Harry Potter sat on the edge of a dilapidated bed. The bolt hole used by Mundungus Fletcher stank of booze and mold. Light filtered in through dirt-caked windows and the only sound was the buzzing of flies.
Head in his hands, Harry attempted to quell the voices in his head. Focusing, he appeared in the flat expanse of his mindscape. The Dursley's screamed from the corner of his mind he had quarantined them in. Ignoring them, he concentrated on the mental representation of Mundungus 'Dung' Fletcher. The coward was hiding behind an antique chair.
"Since I have you here," Harry said quietly, striding forward and tossing the chair aside, "Let's talk about how quickly you looted The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black."
Dung fell flat when his cover vanished. He started scrambling away, blubbering.
"Just the little things," the man whimpered, "little bits no one would miss."
Harry's eyes narrowed and Dung was flung forward. Catching him by his throat, Harry squeezed. While Dung struggled for breath, Harry called forward the memory of Mundungus wrenching a locket out of Kreacher's hands.
"Where did you stash this?" Harry asked, loosening the pressure on Dung's throat.
"Was gonna sell it in Knockturn Alley, got it hidden there," Dung gasped out, weakly grasping at Harry's hands around his neck.
Harry understood this wasn't the real Mundungus Fletcher. His magic had copied the personality and some memories into his head, just like the Dursleys. He would deal with the real one later.
Harry tossed Dung away from him and summoned a cage around the foul thief with a thought.
"Stay," Harry instructed, turning towards the shrieks of the Dursleys. He began walking towards Number 10 Privet Drive. The screaming was starting to become a bit much.
/\/\/\/\
Lifting his head, Harry saw the blood on his hands. His nose was bleeding. Walking into the washroom, he caught sight of himself. His hair was unkempt, his skin pale, but his eyes shone bright with determination and a hint of madness.
Harry washed the blood from his face and ran a wet hand through his hair. He needed to get a move on. The Order of the Phoenix did not know where all of Mundungus' hiding spots were, but he couldn't stay here for too long. There was much to do, people to see and kill.
/\/\/\/\
Harry pulled his cloak tighter and checked his hood. His glamour charms were terrible, so he stuck with the classic dark cloak to hide his features. Other cloaked people hurried along through Knockturn Alley. Harry quietly slipped behind a larger person who smelled terrible. Shadowing the bulky figure, Harry made it through Knockturn Alley to Dung's stash.
Breaking from the foul-smelling individual, Harry leaned against the wall while tapping it with the tip of his wand. Several repetitions of the pattern later, a brick shimmered out of existence. Harry reached in and grabbed a bundle of cloth. Stowing it under his robe, Harry began heading towards the exit of Knockturn Alley.
"Oy," A low voice said behind him, "You been following me git?"
Harry turned and saw the large, smelly figure he had been shadowing early. From what he could see under the cloak, the person was probably half troll.
"No," Harry replied, slowly backing up, "Not at all."
"Liar," the troll man accused, advancing. "You wanted to turn me in to the Aurors."
Magic crackled down Harry's arms, lighting them blue under his cloak. With a shimmer, several copies scattered from behind him. Harry dashed past his accuser in the confusion.
/\/\/\/\
The fireplace at Malfoy Manor flared green as Draco stepping out, brushing floo powder and ash from his robes. It had only been a few weeks since Potter had taken his band of misfits to 'rescue' Sirius Black. The irony that Black wasn't there and yet still died brought a small smile to his face. Walking through the opulent foyer, his smile dropped as he remembered the shape his father had been in when he came home. He blamed the mudblood for that.
Still, he was now in line of succession for the Black family fortune. That should put him in better standing with the Dark Lord.
"Wrinkly" Draco called, pulling his bag off his shoulder and dropping it. The impact of it hitting the floor made him stop. Looking back, where there should have been an elf hauling his overnight bag to his room, were his effects sitting obstinately on the floor.
Draco furrowed his brow. Lucius had recovered and was out on the Dark Lord's personal request. The only people in the manor would be him, his mother, and the house elf they had replaced Dobby with.
"Wrinkly, come here." Draco said, raising his voice. Nothing happened. Annoyance tinged with curiosity filled him. Why wasn't the elf responding? Lucius barely acknowledged the creature's existence and wouldn't have called it away, which left only his mother, who should be around.
"Mother," called Draco as he walked towards the main sitting room, "Did you send away-"
Draco stopped as he took in the scene. His mother, sitting straight and rigid in her favorite reading chair. Potter stood behind her, his hands on her head and his arms glowing with blue magic.
"Hello Draco," said Potter, his voice low and even. Magic continued to flow down his arms into his hands. Narcissa Malfoy's fingers dug into her armrests, her eyes twitching but focused on something in the distance.
The absurdity of the situation and Potter's proximity to his mother quelled his first, second, and third reactions. Draco drew his wand and slowly entered the sitting room.
"Whatever you are doing Potter," Draco growled, "stop it now!"
Potter's eyes flicked towards him, and Narcissa gasped. "Now Draco," he said, "That isn't any way to treat a guest."
A snap sounded next to him and Draco was blown off his feet. He crashed into a wall and felt something in his right shoulder misalign. Through streaming eyes, he saw Dobby standing over him. The little shit had his wand.
"Thank you, Dobby," Potter said, still unmoving behind the chair. "Hold on to that for me."
Dobby looked at the wand dubiously but held onto it. Draco noticed that the creature was wearing some sort of dark black uniform, small pants and a shirt. No wonder Draco walked right past him.
Magic stopped running through Potter's hands. Narcissa Malfoy slumped forward, hair hanging in front of her face. Potter stretched his arms and popped his back.
"That took longer than expected." Potter remarked, walking towards Draco.
Draco glared at him, while Potter looked at him with a combination of pity and annoyance.
"Great Master Harry Potter Sir," Dobby piped up, bouncing up and down in panicked excitement, "Misters Malfoy is coming home!"
/\/\/\/\
Narcissa Malfoy tried to collect her thoughts. She hadn't even thought to lift her wand when Harry Potter strolled into the manor. Before she had realized it, he was rifling through her memories. Emotions and feelings she had buried long ago came to the forefront. Her distaste for Lucius and his actions. The activities her husband got up on raids for the Dark Lord. The anger that her firstborn wasn't her first child. She had been pregnant with a girl, but Lucius wanted a boy. Her fear that Draco was now set on the same path as his father and would suffer the same fate.
Narcissa blearily registered that Draco had entered. The emotional maelstrom pulsed through her and her magic demanded action. She had been wronged for years, and now was the time for retribution.
"Great Master Harry Potter Sir," the house elf squeaked. "Misters Malfoy is coming home!"
Narcissa focused on the door, waiting for the architect of her suffering to enter.
/\/\/\/\
Lucius Malfoy strode angrily through his front door. For the first time in over a decade, he had walked up to the manor like a guest. The floo hadn't been able to connect and no wretched house elf had answered his call. After the better part of a day securing his position in the ministry, the last thing he wanted to do was walk home like a muggle.
The entrance hall was empty of people. A bag lay by the fireplace, but Lucius ignored it. A light from the sitting room had caught his attention. He drew his wand when he saw the occupants of the room.
Harry Potter leaned next to Draco, who was sprawled against the wall. His wife sat in an armchair with her hair hiding her face.
"Potter," rumbled Lucius, turning to present less of a profile while aiming towards the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Lucius," Potter replied conversationally, "Feeling better already?"
Lucius' eyes darted around the room. Potter hadn't drawn his wand, but Draco was down, and his wife wasn't moving. He hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, but something was off.
"The Dark Lord has plans for you," Lucius said, bringing his wand up to cast. At the last second, he dodged to the side as a spell flew through where he had been.
Sidestepping a second spell, Lucius shielded a third spell that would have shredded his insides.
"Narcissa," Lucius addressed his wife, "what are-"
Narcissa Malfoy nee Black stepped forward, casting a sickly yellow spell that arced erratically.
"No more," she yelled, following up with a blasting curse at the ground in front of Lucius. He shielded from most of the shards but cuts still opened along his arm.
"No more groveling," Narcissa said, her voice growing in volume as she continued casting. Lucius ducked and dodged, weaving through the bone breakers, skin peelers, and cutting curses she was raining upon him.
"No more hiding!" she shouted, casting the Killing Curse. Lucius redirected it away from him, tearing chunks out of the ceiling.
"No. More. Pretending!" Narcissa roared, avoiding the falling masonry. She cast a blasting curse at the wall behind Lucius, sending shrapnel into his unprotected back.
Lucius fell to his knees and rolled to the side to avoid another blasting curse. It impacted next to him and sent him flying. He landed on his face, breaking his nose. His face throbbed while his back burned.
Through watering eyes, Lucius saw Potter reach a hand forward. Blue magic sparked along his arm.
"We need to have a talk," Potter said darkly, "about where you got a certain diary."
A/N
Special thanks to 2D for helping to beta this story.