DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, that's JK Rowling's creation.
NOTE: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! :) The more reviews I get, the faster I'm likely to update. Responses to the current reviews are at the end.
I hope you like chapter 3. It's a bit shorter than the last chapter. I wasn't satisfied with what I'd written, so I scrapped what I had - TWICE - and restarted. In the end I just made changes to what I'd had originally and here it is. Chapter 4 is forthcoming. Hopefully I'll have it up sooner. :)
As I See It - Chapter 3
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Apparating's not my most favorite method of travel, even if it is one of the more efficient. I mean, it's not wasteful like most muggle forms of transportation, and it's friendly to the environment. It's still disconcerting. I never bothered to get my license, My mentor taught me very well. He caused me to splinch myself once and that was a lesson I'll never forget. Haven't done it since. Yeah, I almost died from the shock. It wasn't pretty. I guess that's another reason I choose not to apparate too much these days. There's only one place I feel comfortable apparating, and that's from my apartment to my home.
Why do I have two places of residence? It's easy to explain. For the last several years I've been making my living by breaking the law. I have my apartment which is a front to lead anybody to if they're looking for me. It's registered under one of my many names: Adam Remus. I haven't used my real name since I left school. It's one of those paranoid safety things, you know? It's also a great way to keep pursuers off of my tail. My real home is miles away from here.
I've set up my walk-in closet as the apparation point in my loft, complete with silencing charms. It keeps the neighbors from hearing the crack and rush of air that comes with apparating. I can still remember the time at the Dursleys in the summer before Sirius died when Dung Fletcher apparated while I was lying in Petunia's flowerbed. I had a good bruise on me for days after that. You couldn't see it, but I certainly felt it!
I'll miss the Dursleys. It's a shame, really. I was so glad to leave school and never return to their place. It came as a shock to me when I found out they'd been tortured and murdered by Voldemort himself. I tried to kill my mentor afterward for not telling me as soon as he found out. He woke me up the next morning with a copy of the Daily Prophet showing the Dark Mark in the sky above the remnants of number 4 Privet Drive. The house was in ashes, their bodies had been burned on stakes in the front yard. It was a clear message to me that Voldemort wasn't taking his new-found 'freedom-from-Harry' lightly. I tried for four days straight to kill my mentor. The workout was well worth it, even if I never did lay a scratch on him. It helped me harden my heart just that much more.
My train of thought was derailed by the sound of the door chime. Taking a quick glance out of the loft's view windows I head to the camera screen. Yes, another selling point for this loft was the security cameras located at the doors for each apartment.
The man standing at my door is not somebody I immediately recognize. He's tall and thin, has short hair, and is fairly decently dressed. For some reason I get the feeling he's not a muggle. I hit the voice toggle, "May I help you sir?"
An annoyed-sounding English accent responds, "Delivery from Hogwarts."
My blood runs cold as I release the toggle. Quietly I deactivate the locks and draw a dagger from my hip sheath. In one swift motion I open the door, grab the intruder by the throat and pull him inside. I shove the man up against the wall and hold my dagger up to his jugular, barely piercing the skin.
"Who are you" I hiss, my voice like ice, "how did you find me and what the fuck do you want?! You'd better be convincing or I'll dump your body in the bay!"
The stranger looks at me with calm blue eyes. His black hair has been cropped fairly short, and his dark mustache looks like that of a teenager finally reaching puberty. His eyes have dark circles under them as if he hasn't had any sleep in days. But he's clean enough. He's obviously attempting to maintain some sort of professional appearance.
The sneer crawling up his face is familiar. I keep my well-practiced mask in place as the recognition hits me. Before he has a chance to answer I remove my dagger from his throat and throw him into the living room. He ungracefully trips over the rug and falls into the couch
"You'd better have a goddamn good reason for tracking me down Draco Malfoy!"
"Aaah, you DO remember me, Potter," he replies, "I'm honored." He slowly stands up, regaining his aristocratic swagger.
I wave my hand slightly and cast a revealing spell. There's a brilliant flash of blue light, but nothing happens. "A muggle disguise, Malfoy?" I asked.
He moves to the nearest seat and gently sits down. "Things are bad, Potter," he sighs, "I'm on the run. Both my father and the Dark Lord are searching for me."
He turns his head to look at me. His eyes are full of fear and hope. I'm not quite sure what to believe.
"Did you come alone?" He nods. "Does anybody know that you're here?"
He sighs in resignation, "No."
"Are you absolutely certain of that?" I bark. He flinches at the tone of my voice. Something is wrong here. A Malfoy never flinches.
Again, he sighs. "Yes."
I'm still wary of this man who gave me seven years of hell. "I'm sorry, I don't believe you."
His expression turns to one of fear. "Do you have any veritaserum?" he asks.
He's serious.
I reach into my jacket and pull out a small black and silver box. It looks like a fancy cigarette tin, but I've enchanted it to hold any of the various potions I'd ever need. I've enchanted it so the potions stored within will never spoil. I pull out a small vial of a clear potion and conjure up a glass of water. Dropping three drops into the glass, I hand it to Malfoy. "Drink," I order.
He takes the glass from me and drinks it completely. I sit down in the chair across the coffee table from him and watch over the next several minutes as his posture relaxes and his eyes glaze over. It's time to ask the questions.
"What is your name?"
"Draco Lucius Malfoy"
"What is my name?"
"Harry James Potter."
"What school did you go to and what year did I graduate?"
"I went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and you disappeared before graduation. They graduated you eventually, but you've never received your diploma."
Yes, those answers seem to be pretty right-on, but this is general information. Time for some harder questions.
"Have you ever been transfigured?"
"Yes."
"Who transfigured you, what did they transfigure you into, and why?"
"Professor Moody transfigured me into a Ferret because I was about to curse you from behind," he replied, a scowl forming on his face as he stared at me. He continued, "Lucius transfigured me into a goat because he wanted something other than my mother or any of his whores to have sex with, and he transfigured me into a tree because I refused one of his orders."
I tried to keep my face expressionless, but I was shocked. His father turned him into a GOAT just to have sex with him? That's horrible. But the worst part was his being transfigured into a tree. One does not transfigure a living animal into an inanimate object. The pain and horror that goes through a man who's been through that transformation is unbelievable, and the scars run deep.
I sigh before asking the final questions.
"Why are you here?"
"I'm on the run from the Dark Lord and his second-in-command, my father. The resistance wants nothing to do with me, and I had nowhere else to go. It had been rumored that you disappeared to America, but when they found your body, they buried you at Hogwarts."
This is getting interesting. "Why are you on the run?"
He frowns as he answers this question, his eyes show a deep sadness I would never expect from a Malfoy. "I got tired of all the torture and killings. I found myself starting to refuse my father's orders. I just couldn't do it anymore. After being tortured by my father at the Dark Lord's request I'd had enough. Before I had fully recovered from the last torture session I made my escape. I thought Dumbledore would be able to help me, but he refused. He gave me a short head start before calling the Aurors on me. I barely made it out of the country."
"How did you locate me?"
"The Dark Lord has his inner circle raising money through muggle and magical corporations and other not-so-legal businesses. One of these is a muggle firm that specializes in corporate espionage. Being the Malfoy heir I had access to everything in that business - I was one of their main the hit men after all. I found a trail of familiar names in the books over the last two years. Joe Weasel Engineering, Sev Smith Consulting, Black Gryffin Network Security, and most recently, Adam Remus Enterprises. Weasel, Remus, Sev, Black, and Gryffin were too familiar. Fortunately for you I had the idea who was behind all this, even if he was supposed to be dead. After I got here to the States, I came across a business called Prongs Systems Engineering & Design. You had your business address listed."
Shit! This is not good. I've fucked up. In trying to turn legitimate, I got sloppy.
"Were you followed?"
"Not to my knowledge." I saw his posture start to tense up. The veritaserum was wearing off. His eyes were still glazed over, but not nearly as much.
"One last question, Malfoy. Why me?"
"Put simply, Potter, you don't exist. You and I were arch rivals in school, nobody would expect it. I was hoping that I could get lost with you."
He shook his head and looked at me again. His eyes were in perfect focus. "You never asked how I got here."
At that moment, my door chime rang again. Looking over at the view screen I could see three figures in trench coats. One had an Uzi slightly hidden, another was openly holding two pistols, and the other was working on the locks. I cast a locking charm on the deadbolts and stood up. I whispered to Malfoy, "I believe your story, for now. I will ask you more about that later. Follow me, NOW!" I put a finger to my lips to indicate silence.
I lead him up the stairs and into the closet. I quickly cast a silencing charm on the closet, grabbed Malfoy's hand and prepared to apparate to my house. Before we winked out, I pushed the self-destruct button. My EMP was charged and ready. In 25 seconds every computer in a 50-yard radius would be rendered useless, their data destroyed. I hope my neighbors are the kinds of folks who keep off-site backups.
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Review Responses:
Garner: Thanks! I hope to develop on said backbone. Of course, that's not the only thing Harry develops in this story. ;)
ChennaiChica: Of course not. He's just retired that alias. Harry got tired of being a goody two-shoes long ago. I will reveal more about this later.
Lady Mandara Snake: Thanks. I like him that way, too. ;}
Also, thanks to Mikito, BlackDiva, and rikua for their reviews, too. :)