This was their third escapade, and both Harry and Draco were starting to develop a sense of adventure. That is to say, they weren't starkers terrified the entire time. Harry knew how to be quick, and he knew how to be stealthy. He loped towards the front door - quicker than a trot, easier than a dash. Only to see the tired old shopkeep there, with a gun.

A gun.

Harry stopped, and then saw that Malfoy (still in girl's clothing) was standing nearby, quiet as sin.

"Alright, both of you, come along quietly. I don't suppose I have to tell you how much I'd hate it if your guts soiled my good clean floor. I just cleaned it yesterday..." Draco was looking wide-eyed at Harry, who was firmly recalling that Draco's dad was a murderer, and not just the diary either. Harry compressed his lips into a line, and jerked his head, in a "follow the man" way.

They both walked back into the man's office, where he shut the door and rounded the desk. In form, he was a little like Severus Snape, excepting the nose and with a deep tan. "Spill it out, show me what you stole." the man said, a craggy grin breaking his face.

Harry put the crisps, the chocolate and even the pastie he'd stolen onto the desk.

The man looked at both of them, and asked simply, "Do your parents know you're thieves?"

Harry stuck his hands in his back pockets, and said, nonchalantly, "What parents?"

Draco, trying for an innocence that looked odd on his pointy face, said, "I didn't take a thing."

"I know a blocker when I see one." He said, unsmiling, "And you nearly broke half the glasses in the store with that shrieking. Don't think I didn't see them shake."

Harry and Draco gave a quick look to each other, nervous about what had probably been accidental magic.

"You got a number, boys and girls?" he asked.

"A number?" Draco Malfoy asked, not comprehending anything. Harry wasn't much better, to be honest.

"Someone who gives you a place to sleep, an orphanage, a relative?"

"No sir," Harry said. "My relatives aren't the type you want to leave kids to. I know me mum and da didn't want me there."

The elderly shopkeep, in his worn overalls looked them up and down. "Here's the deal, thoughtless thieves. You'll clean my shop for me - as long as it takes. I want every inch sparkling. Once that's done, you can leave."

Harry and Draco looked at each other, before nodding.

"Might take more than a day, it might. I reckon you can sleep as guard dogs, if you want." The shopkeep sent them a nasty smile.

Draco responded by curtseying, "Your mercy is a credit to your upbringing."

Harry abruptly wanted to pound his head on a wall - that was NOT what you said to someone that old! it just wasn't!

Giving them a humorless grin, the shopkeep said, "Wait till your done before you speak to me about mercy." Somehow, even with the tan and the muggle clothes, the humorless man reminded Harry of Snape.

[a/n: Finally, managed to pull this out. Leave a review?]