Chapter 9

Hermione awoke to feel something tapping on her arm. She blearily opened her eyes, and found a tawny owl scratching her hand, an envelope in his beak.

"Hello Errol," Hermione groaned. "What are you doing here?"

The owl dropped the envelope on the bed, and flew over to the windowsill, where he made himself comfortable.

Hermione tore open the letter and immediately recognized Ron's haphazard scrawl that spread across the page like a malignant desiease. She reminded herself to tell him to fix his handwriting. She skimmed the letter and let out a small whoop, causing Draco to wake instantaneously.

"What?" Draco groaned, holding his wand out. "Who's dead?"

"No one's dead!" Hermione exclaimed loudly. "We're just going to the headquarters!"

"What the heck are the headquarters?" Draco grumbled, climbing out of his pink fluffy sleeping bag. "And why does nobody tell me anything?"


"You're leaving already?" her mother asked at breakfast, clearly dismayed by Hermione's news. "You just got here."

"We've got to go get our books for school," Hermione lied effortlessly. "Very important. Should take a great deal of time."

Even her father looked rather upset, and Mr. Granger was not known for putting out a great deal of emotion.

Gaelen dropped his fork angrily. "Hermione, it's rather rude of you to show up and then leave in a drop of the hat. It's just not polite."

Hermione shot him a nasty look. "Put a sock in it."

"Hermione," Ms. Granger warned. "We have guests."

"Have fun," Cho volunteered with a tentative smile. Hermione smiled back, but Draco would later attest that it had looked like she was grimacing in pain.


Hermione threw all of her clothing back into her trunk, grateful to be escaping her parent's house, and her brother's watchful eye.

"So, where is this headquarters thing?" Draco asked, shoving his cap on his head jauntily.

"Ron is meeting us at Diagon Alley with a friend, and then we'll all Apparate from there."

"But-"

"What now?" she asked irratibly. "It's quite simple, Draco. I don't see why you need to analyze everything we do-"

"No!" he interrupted. "Why can't we just Apparate there in the first place? I don't want to have to go to Diagon Alley! What if I see one of my old friends-"

"Draco, this is the only way to do it, and if you stopped being so nosy, you'll find out why!"


In Diagon Alley, a tall red-haired boy waited anxiously for a young couple behind Flourish and Blotts. He ran a fluttering hand through his hair, his stomach churning dreadfully.

A voice came from the shadows, darkly amused.

"Stop fussing, Ron."

"I can't," he replied urgently. "What if they forget, or something? Then you and I would be stranded out here until someone could come get us!"

Another voice chuckled grimly.

"Don't worry about it lad, they'll come. I'd be more worried about assasins if I were you."

"Assasins?" Ron asked, a note of panic entering his voice. "Why would there be assasins?"

The first voice came back, the low baritone sending a chill down Ron's spine. "Well, some of us are supposed to be dead."

Suddenly, a loud clattering came from behind a pile of empty crates, and Ron jumped a meter into the air.

"OW!" someone shouted. "Draco you ass, you stupid stupid-"

"Hermione!" Ron called joyfully, as a girl with bushy brown hair stepped out from behind a crate, pulling her trunk, her pretty face drawn into a scowl. He ran up to her and hugged her. Draco stepped out from behind Hermione, his eyebrows drawn into a straight line.

"Why the long faces?" someone said sarcastically from the shadow of the building. "Get them caught in something?"

Hermione dropped her trunk. "Sirius?" she asked in a wavering voice. They stepped out into the light, and Hermione burst into tears.

"Oh, Sirius," she sobbed. "We thought you were dead!"

Sirius grinned and hugged her. "I was."

He had lost the haggard starved look he had adopted after Azkaban, and he was handsome in a dashing, dangerous way.

"Have you seen Harry yet?" she managed to choke out after Draco passed her his handkerchief.

Sirius shook his head, and his face clouded with something that looked like disappointment. "No."

"Well, I'm sure he's dying to see you," Hermione said, sniffling slightly. "He was furious when Dumbledore wouldn't let him stay at Grimauld Place with you."

"We're not at Grimmauld place anymore," Moody said gruffly, his limp more apparent than ever.

"Where did you come from?" Draco asked in horror.

"Over there," Moody said with a jerk of his hand. "Ah, I remember you. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. How's your father?"

"I don't know," Draco replied stiffly. "Hopefully he's dead."

Moody grinned. "That's what I like to hear." His magical eye roamed over Draco's face, and the pending silence was disturbing.

"Is he fine?" Ron ventured with trepidation, unsure whether disturbing Moody was a sound plan.

Moody nodded finally. "Yes, but I'm warning you Malfoy," he said darkly, pointing at Draco. "One false step, and you're dead meat."

"What do you mean by dead meat?" Ron said nervously. "Isn't that sort of a redundant phrase? I mean, meat is already dead-"

"It's a muggle saying," Moody said. "I picked it up on a trip to America. I liked it, so, I try to use it as often as possible. Good way to intimidate."

Draco shot daggers at Moody, clearly remembering his ten minutes as a ferret.

Hermione looked up at him. "Well, you were an awfully cute ferret," she said consolingly. He snorted, and Hermione simply grinned.

"Well," Moody said, handing Draco a slip of white paper. "Read that, memorize it, and then eat it."

"Eat it?" Draco repeated, holding the paper as if it were about to explode. "Eat it?"

"Just do it," Moody snapped. "I don't have until Judgment Day."

Draco opened the paper with shaking hands, and read the contents to himself.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at 56 Knockturn Alley.

"Knockturn-" he said, confused.

"Shut up!" Ron ordered as Draco chewed on the piece of paper, repeating the words inside his head. "Now, let's go."