"Harry, I don't understand. The Light side killed my father months ago. I saw them do it. Avada Kedavra. The Killing Curse. Harry, I watched as my father was murdered, and it was a victory. A triumph. They left his body there, near the ocean, and assumed it would wash into the ocean eventually. So how? How, Harry, can he still be alive?"

"I'm sorry, Draco. I don't know."

They had been walking briskly along the side of the main road, but now they stopped in front of a small French cafe.

It was not a popular place; the grubbiness was not pleasing to the eye.

The muggle eye, that is.

Though not a single car was parked in front of the restaurant, once Harry and Draco stepped inside, they found it packed.

"Why, if it ain't Potter and Malfoy! Come here, boys!" It was Jeremy Richardson, a swaggering, friendly man who had moved to California over ten years ago but still kept his Texas accent.

They walked over to the front of the building, shaking hands and receiving pats on the back all the way.

"Haven't seen you two in forever! What have ya'll been up to?"

Draco pressed his lips together tightly.

Besides Harry, Draco could be trusted to talk to only a select few people civilly, and in this moment of emotional conflict, he would only even talk to Harry. Draco was very, very stubborn.

Harry knew Draco well enough to know he wouldn't answer, and so he was the one who responded.

"Hello, Jeremy. We'd love to stay and chat, but we're on assignment. You know I can't tell you what it's about, but I assure you, it's very important."

"Sure thing. But do come back sometime soon just to relax, okay? Suppose you don't want a drink before you go? No? Didn't think so. Well, go on, boys. And good luck!"

They waved goodbye, and stepped out the back exit.

In front of them was a brick wall. Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket, counted the 14th brick up from an innocent-looking black smudge on one of the bricks, and tapped it with his wand. A hole opened in the wall, and Harry and Draco slipped through the archway.

Above them, big golden letters floated lazily in midair. "Welcome to Hutchincen Alley," they proclaimed.

Hutchincen Alley was small, so there were few wizards and witches there, but it did hold one very important place--the Cross Ocean Floo Network System (otherwise known as COFNS) American Western Division Headquarters.

This was what they had come for.

Apparating was impossible across oceans, which was why they would have to use floo powder. They stepped inside the banana-yellow building that had COFNS in big letters on it.

A small man with an orange mustache over to greet them. He was also wearing banana yellow robes.

"Hello, hello, stranger," he said in a monotone voice. "Names please."

Harry answered for both of them. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

The man gave them a piercing look, whose effectiveness was magnified with the man's sharp blue eyes. "Ah," he said. He stared at them for a moment longer, then said, "you are not lying. Please step inside."

Harry and Draco stepped inside the room. A winding staircase appeared in front of them, reaching much higher than the building it was in. Such Expanding Charms as these were very useful when one needed to place something large in small places.

"Right this way, please." The man got in front of them again, and began climbing the steep staircase.

They went up. And up. Their journey was silent, as the man gave no indication that he wanted a conversation, Draco still was refusing to speak, and Harry didn't particularly feel like talking to himself.

Finally, they reached the "top", a flat area where a lone wizard was standing in front of an enormous fireplace. The most unusual thing, by far, was the fact that the flames in the fireplace were, well, purple. As they were gaping, the wizard who had walked with them up the stairway turned around and left.

Both Harry and Draco stared at the violent blaze in surprise.

"Violet flames are more powerful, and can give floo powder travelers greater range and distance," the man by the fireplace answered in a soft voice to their unspoken question.

Now that Harry thought about it, he realized he'd never had to travel across the ocean before, except the time he'd come over after his Hogwarts graduation, and that time, he and Draco had taken an enchanted leisure cruise ship across.

They had to move fast, the Assignment Book had said, so Harry, with Draco close behind him, hurried up to the wizard.

"Name?" the man asked idly.

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

The man's eyebrows rose slightly, but otherwise he gave no indication he recognized the names.

"Travel reason?"

"Auror assignment."

"No charge, then."

The man scribbled something on a piece of parchment, and handed it to Harry.

"Good luck," he said.

"Thank you," Draco said. Harry looked at him in surprise, but made no comment.

All three walked up to the fireplace, and the man reached up for something on top of it. He came down with a small drawstring bag. "Throw all of into the fire and name your destination," he said, walking away.

"Wait," Draco called. The man turned and looked at Draco. "What's your name?"

The man eyed Draco evenly for a moment before replying," Lance. Lance Baker."

Draco nodded and walked to stand by Harry, close in front of the roaring fire.

Draco took the bag from Harry, opened it, and was about to throw it in, when Harry touched him lightly on the arm. "Wait, Draco. Where are we going first? To the Wealey's to investigate, or to Hogwarts to find Snape and inform him what we know?"

Draco thought a moment before replying.