The Enemy Walks

Bathed in daylight, Lupin's house was far more charming and less decrepit in appearance than it seemed at night, as if nature itself were casting an effective little glamour spell over the dwelling. Even the boarded up window looked far less of a blemish upon the house's appearance.

It would never look perfect, but for now it was just fine.

Harry slowly chewed his toast the next morning, fiddling idly with the butter knife. Remus, who was sat at the other end of the table, seemed to be trying to devour everything within sight as he was approaching the start of his monthly cycle where he would not get an awful lot of rest or much to eat over those nights.

They were sat in the kitchen, the only room in Lupin's house that could be considered 'spacious.'

Usually on these three nights, Remus locked himself in the cellar of his house for obvious reasons but that would not prevent him from howling and snarling all night long.

Mentally Harry ran through a list of all the places that they could go to. Ron and Hermione's seemed to be a good candidate, if one took Malfoy out of the equation. Putting him into it rather complicated matters.

Still, it would be worth a try.

"You know, all this brooding that's been going on recently is starting to depress me," Remus noted as he finished the last piece of toast.

"Pardon?" Harry asked distractedly.

"This brooding you and your godfather keep indulging in. Those who are not participating in it feel somewhat left out," Lupin's eyes danced with humour and Harry smiled back at him when he realised he was teasing him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Not the easiest of times right now." Harry's gaze had suddenly become very far away. "I never expected to come back."

Lupin frowned.

"Then why did you?" Harry stared back at him with a suddenly closed expression and didn't reply.

"Perhaps a more pertinent question," Spoke Sirius' voice from the kitchen doorway, "Is why did you leave?"

Harry was clearly not pleased with either of these queries.

"I already told you all my reasons for that," He responded frostily, knowing he was coming off as defensive; something that tended to indicate one was lying. He had never wanted any of those that were close to him to know the real reason on why he had walked away from the wizarding world simply because he was deeply ashamed of it.

Harry saw now that the feeling of uselessness he's suffered after the war was over was partially his own fault. As much as he had tried not to do so, he'd begun to believe that his soul place in wizard society was as a hero. Without an enemy to fight, what use was he?

It was the eventual shame he'd felt that had driven him back. True, he was still fighting his old fight against evil but this time he was using bolder and not entirely noble methods that including taking risks and (no need to sugar coat it) breaking the law.

But this was no popularity contest. This was about getting the job done, and if the rest of the wizarding world didn't like the way Harry Potter was going about it these days then frankly they could get stuffed. His earlier approach had proven far too fallible and in some cases…fatal.

"Oh, yes. Your reasons," Sirius replied, voice dripping sarcasm. "And if you honestly expected me to swallow them for a minute then..." Whatever Sirius was going to say next (and clearly it was not going to be complimentary) never came, for at that moment a soft, husky voice greeted them all.

"Good morning."

Sirius whipped round to see Malfoy stood next to him in the kitchen doorway. The blond flinched at his rather sudden movement and edged a little more into the room, keeping his eyes on the dark haired man.

There was a long beat as the whole somewhat absurd tableau froze like that. Finally Remus, ever the peace maker, asked, "Would you two fellows like any breakfast or are you content to merely loiter in my doorway?"

It succeeded in diffusing the moment for the time being. Sirius and Draco shuffled in and sat at opposite sides of the scrubbed wooden table.

Harry was still looking very sulky and Sirius was clearly still fuming. Draco had overheard some of what had been said and was rather intrigued, although not entirely sure he completely understood what it had all been about.

Remus waved his wand at the rest of the loaf of bread on the table and toasted it instantly as he and Harry had finished the first batch between themselves. Remus preferred toast for breakfast, as it was simple, fairly nutritious and also bread was always pretty cheap and Lupin was hardly rolling in wizard gold.

All a matter of convenience.

Harry poured himself a cup of coffee, a very sour and unpleasant look still on his face. Although he tried supremely hard to let it pass without comment, Draco simply couldn't restrain himself.

"You best hope the wind doesn't change or your face'll get stuck like that Potter." He pretended to look revolted. "Honestly, you could curdle milk with that expression."

"Which come to think of it, makes cheese," Lupin quipped with a grin.

Neither Harry nor Sirius seemed very amused by this though.

"Note to self. Draco Malfoy is still under the delusion he's funny," Harry said in a deliberately exaggerated fed up tone. Sirius stayed quiet, but his glare made the two young men feel uncomfortable and Lupin felt very sorry for them both.

Draco scowled.

"What do you mean, 'under the delusion?'"

As breakfasts go, it was certainly not the most cheerful. Remus made a mental note to corner Padfoot again later, then amended that to all three of them. Clearly, the tensions that existed did not extend to Malfoy issues alone.

He got his chance that very afternoon. They were back in the living room trying to sort out their accommodation, as Remus would be a werewolf for three nights, starting tomorrow.

It wasn't too long before tempers that had not really cooled off since that morning, or in one case since Malfoy had arrived here, flared up again.

They had at least managed to settle on a few things without much disagreement, such as wherever they were going to stay; it needed to be a wizarding abode therefore Harry's Muggle home was immediately excluded. Malfoy, much to everyone's great surprise, suggested the Shrieking Shack outside of Hogsmeade but both Harry and his godfather stamped on that one. Remus silently agreed with them on that, too many bad memories about that place all round.

The eventual choice seemed to be Hermione Granger's and Ron Weasley's home. A choice Draco was clearly not happy with. He mumbled something none of the others heard but nevertheless caused Sirius to explode.

"You have absolutely no right to complain nor make demands! Let me tell you right now Malfoy that your life will be a hell of a lot easier if you just keep quiet!"

Thoroughly admonished, Draco had stared mutely down at the floor, his normally pale face reddening.

Remus decided this was as good a time as any to speak up about his concerns.

"Which brings me to something I feel needs to be addressed," He began with uncharacteristic sternness. The other three waited politely for him to continue, looking slightly surprised.

"I know that...these circumstances are difficult. On all of us. However I should remind you that we quite possibly could end up having another war to fight. At the very least, we have a faceless enemy to defeat and it is not possible for us to do that if we're constantly fighting and threatening each other."

None of them had anything to add. They merely nodded in agreement of Lupin's words.

Mission accomplished.

What appeared to be a round black pebble gleamed on the dark wood table. A Scrying Stone, tiny windows to another place far, far away (some sorcerers had even been known to use them to see into times past, although she had never tried such a thing herself). Proof that great things can indeed come in small sizes.

She was very glad that her mentor had schooled her so well in their use all those years ago and also greatly thankful that it's brother had remained undiscovered by those who resided in the house where it was currently placed.

Ever since her subsequent 'vanishing' from the wizarding world, the world in general really, they had proven invaluable at keeping her informed of all the goings on of those she desired to know the dealings of. Not just her enemies either, her followers too.

She would not tolerate doubt amongst them for a second. That had proven to be the first step towards mutiny in the past.

So her mentor, dear Hadrius, had discovered, to his loss.

And to her gain.

She watched as the red headed man, unmistakably one of the seemingly endless Weasley clan, argued with his wife. She was amused by the fact that it was rather hard to judge what was more fearsome about Hermione Granger in that moment – the utterly furious look on her features or her exceptionally unruly hair.

She gathered the information she desired however and finally withdrew her gaze from the stone. She picked up the polished, little ebony object and tipped it back into a small, drawstring leather pouch with the others.

They were extremely precious to her not only because of their sheer usefulness but also because Scrying Stones had been outlawed at the Warlocks Convention of 1703. They were difficult to come by, even by witches such as her.

Getting up from the table she smiled at her good fortune. So Potter and Malfoy would be arriving there soon. Who could have perceived such luck? Now she would know their every plan of attack, their every strategy. Everything.

If they had stood any chance against her before, they certainly did not now.

Her elation did not last long, however, as a familiar pain suddenly began in her temples and a voice whispered evilly to her in her mind.

The demon was calling her.

It was not something she ever cared to admit but if she had not struck a bargain with him she would never have lived.

Because rightly I should have died.

She listened to him, shuddering a little as he spoke. His barely human voice had the ability to freeze blood in ones veins and cause one to collapse, sick with fear at the mere sound of it.

Yet his words still pleased her.

It was not long before her delight returned, lighting up her somewhat aged features and making them briefly young again.

"I owe you an apology."

Harry turned and faced his godfather. They regarded each other quietly.

"And I owe you one. I also do owe you an explanation. A truthful one," Harry replied solemnly.

"Go ahead."

Harry sucked in a breath and began.

"I left the wizarding world because...after it was done it was like..." Harry growled in frustration, fist balling a little at his sides. He had not anticipated telling the truth being quite this difficult.

"Like I had nothing to offer anymore. I defeated Voldemort like everyone expected me to do and then what? I was done and I felt there was nothing else anyone could possibly want from me. Fulfilled my duty, time to retire so to speak."

For the first time in a long time Sirius found his eyes flickering to his godson's forehead to gaze at the famous scar that lay there. That little blemish that had marked Harry out, set him apart from everyone else.

Sirius saw with surprise that the scar was a great deal fainter than it once had been. Almost completely unnoticeable.

How come I never saw this before now?

"Didn't you ever stop to think about your friends? Or me? What does it matter about the expectations of others? You just shut is out and never gave a reasonable explanation as to why," Sirius reproached.

"I know and I am truly sorry for that. It was stupid and selfish. But you have to understand how I felt," Harry replied somewhat plaintively. If the truth were told he'd never really considered how his friends would feel about him leaving their world, just assumed they would accept it. He'd kept in contact with them of course but it wasn't really that easy when you lived in two such incredibly opposite societies as the Muggle world and the Wizarding world.

"I do…now that is. I just wish you'd told me this before," Sirius said gently. Harry laughed.

"I can be very dense sometimes. I just never think before I act." This brought back memories of second year when he and Ron had flown Ron's dad's flying car to Hogwarts after they had been unable to get onto platform 9 ¾ and ended up crashing it into the Whomping Willow.

Professor McGonagall had demanded to know why Harry had simply not sent his owl Hedwig (sadly now deceased) to them with a message explaining the situation instead of doing something so abominably foolish.

Harry's response had simply been a very lame "I didn't think."

"That's something we're all guilty of doing now and then. Dear old Mooney is right, fighting and hostility is not going to get us anywhere right now and we've got a lot to get on with over the next few weeks," Sirius continued.

Hermione had been doing a damn good job keeping her ear to the ground and picking up useful information from both sides. This was another reason why going to her home had seemed a good idea. She had the necessary information they needed to begin planning counter attacks against the acolytes of their new enemy.

Of course, fighting the wizard himself was going to be far harder but taking out the foot soldiers was definitely a positive start.

Ronald Weasley paced the floor of his living room as his wife watched in irritation at the repetitive action. Hermione Granger's face was pale and drawn from lack of sleep and her normally bushy hair had become limp and dull. This was partially due to her exhaustive work as an Auror, an occupation she had entered into unintentionally but nevertheless enjoyed.

She was also somewhat washed out from the terrible argument she had had with Ron the previous night, Strangely it had been one of the few times Hermione had actually understood Ron's point of view in a disagreement but she had refused to relent in any case.

Hermione was admittedly as baffled by Harry's recent actions as anyone else but after she had engaged in a short discussion with Sirius recently she was now more willing to cut Harry and by extension Malfoy some slack during their stay. These were becoming increasingly troubled times and they should all be grateful for whatever help they could get (assuming Malfoy could actually provide any further or indeed helpful information).

Despite all the reasoning though, Hermione was still not entirely happy with any of this. She had quite distinct memories of what Draco had put them all through. From the childish taunts of their school years through to the times he had seriously made attempts on their lives with a horrid smile on his pale, pointed face and most likely a song in his heart, Hermione remembered it all.

But he also turned himself in of his own free will. Then again, there could have been an ulterior motive for that. Knowing Malfoy that's extremely possible.

Hermione sighed heavily. Whatever was really going on she knew one thing – Harry apparently trusted Malfoy at this early juncture and as long as he did then so would she. She would be civil to this not exactly welcome guest and she had managed to cajole Ron into agreeing to do the same.

However, Ron had vowed to watch the Slytherin's every move regardless. Hermione had secretly felt a little comforted by that.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she saw with alarm that her guest were due any minute now. Rising quickly from her chair and telling her husband to for God's sake stop pacing the room as he was wearing trenches in the floor, Hermione stood and waited, her stomach clenching with nerves.

And something rather akin to dread.

She shot an appraising look at her husband and saw his jaw was clenched and his eyes sparked with a mixture of anger and anticipation.

In total silence, they waited for the arrival of their friends.

And their enemy.