Disclaimer: Nothing else compares to the actual Harry Potter which belongs to JKR.
dancerrdw: Thanks once again!
HarryGinny13: Thanks. I don't like it when people rush the story and it turns out bad. Hey cool you speak Hindi too! Haha luckily I understood you or else I would be the one that would be embarrassed. I would reply in Hindi but I'm not going to flatter myself by thinking I can accomplish it well.
singdownthemoonHorselvr: I'm staying completely quiet about what's with Ron or else you'll figure it out before I write it. But I'm happy to hear or rather, read, that you liked it.
PinkyTheSnowman: Yes, I like him as a backstabber too. The real Ron as in the Ron that used to laugh, be funny and a good friend to Harry. I like how Draco and Ron can still piss each other off even when they're both on the same side. And lastly, Ron is still hot despite being a Death Eater.
mystikalolo: He killed Ginny in a way so to say...but not my his own hand. Technically Voldemort killed Ginny but you'll see. I liked Draco in the last chapter too.
bethzc: I will have much more on Ron killing Ginny...it has more depth to it then you think. Truely Voldemort killed Ginny but you shall see.
H9: Haha yes.
'Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends'- J.R.R. Tolkien
"Malfoy!"
Draco, who was currently at the Ministry, looked up from today's issue of the Daily Prophet.
"Nice way to greet someone, Weasley. No wonder the ladies are all over you," Draco said, sarcastically.
Ron sniffed, loudly. He was not in the mood to play around with Malfoy right now. Especially after what he'd done.
"You told me that Potter was sure to be in that watering hole in Kent at four in the morning, exactly! I wake up before the bloody sun and shout at my troops for an hour before they actually get up and we apparate all the way to Kent, spend a good thirty damn minutes searching for this place you say Potter's at and finally, when we find it he's not even there! I had all my Death Eaters camped out of that place for at least four hours before we called it a day!" Ron barked, angrily, "Now can you tell me and my troops why I put them through hell for nothing?"
The corners of Draco's mouth twitched and he glanced at the grandfather clock not far from him. It was a eleven. He folded up his paper, completely unfazed by Weasley's dorcet tones and took a sip of his usual morning coffee.
"Ah, this coffee is good stuff," Draco said, setting his cup down.
Ron's ears went red and he knocked the cup to the floor, shattering it to pieces, "You'll be telling me why you sent me to Kent, now."
Draco smirked at him, "Well, Weasley, unless you've been living under a rock, you should know the only reason a Death Eater gives a tip to another Death Eater is because he believes it to be useful and the source to be reliable. I suppose this one time, out of the usual hundreds, mine was wrong once."
Ron glared at him, hating his calm. He bellowed out a loud, "Arrrggghhh!"
"Now, now, control yourself," Draco said, checking his nails for dirt.
"That's not good enough! Your answer's not good enough! You set me up, Malfoy! You want to make a fool of me, don't you!" Ron accused him.
Both wizards caught each other's eyes. Daring the other to say something. Finally Draco cracked up and grinned.
"Prove it," he replied, simply.
Ron immediately felt his mouth drop, "Excuse me...?"
"I said prove it," Draco repeated, now standing up, "Well I must be off, catch you later, Weasel. -he chuckled-oh oops, I mean Weasley."
And off he went humming. Ron clamped his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, and resisted the urge to shout. Malfoy was humming to the tune of Weasley is our King.
"Now after Voldemort was ripped from his body, the force of the giant magical blow was enough to bring the entire house down," Hermione explained, clearing the desk of its papers.
"What was it called?" Harry asked, sitting on a sofa nearby.
"What? The spell?" Hermione said, slinking an eyebrow up.
"No, the house we were living in," Harry clarified, looking up from his usual glaring at his palms.
"Godric's Hollow," Hermione replied, staring at him very closely, "Ok, we should get back to the story. Godric's Hollow, as you now know, was brought down, your parents dead. Yet among the rubble the only living being was you, Harry. Intially someone we'll call 'The Dog Star' for the moment came to get you but in the end it was Hagrid, who was sent there by Professor Dumbledore that picked you up. You do remember Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid from your memories of Hogwarts, don't you?"
Harry thought hard. Yes he remembered. The longer the memories lay in his mind the more vivid they became. He remembered Dumbledore with his long, white beard, and half-moon spectacles. And Hagrid, so large, giant-like and yet so kind when it came to looking after Harry. What had ever happened to him?
"Yes, I remember," Harry nodded, "But, can I ask...what happened to Hagrid?"
Hermione breathed in and came to sit beside Harry, "Oh, Harry, he's dead."
It was so strange hearing it for the first time years after it had happened. It seemed it was past the time of griefing and past the time of recovering. He would get no closure for the death of his old friend. He'd just have to bear it for the rest of his life.
Still, Harry felt his eyes water but blinked them away, quickly, "I see, so what happens after Hagrid picks me up?"
"Well, since Hagrid had been expelled from Hogwarts previously, he couldn't just apparate. So he used a flying motorbike he borrowed from 'The Dog Star'," Hermione continued, as Harry had commanded, "He flew you all the way to Surrey, on a street called Privet Drive."
She paused and for good reason too because instantly flushes of memories gurgled in his brain. They rushed forth and Harry remembered that street called Privet Drive. The time he'd gotten beat up when he was in second grade, the time he'd been so angry he'd run away and came to a park, and another time when he'd been painting a white fence in the burning summer sun.
"You're remembering?" Hermione implored, keeping solid eye contact.
"Yeah, I spent a long time in Privet Drive, didn't I?" Harry questioned, blinking furiously.
"Eleven years to be exact," Hermione said, "The first eleven of your life. You see when Hagrid brought you to Privet Drive, Dumbledore and McGonagall were waiting for you. They had decided that until you were old enough to come to your first year at Hogwarts, you would live with your mother's sister, Pentunia Dursley and her husband and only son, Vernon and Dudley Dursley. They were all muggles."
Hermione waited again as another quick blast of memories fought their way to the top of his brain. Dudley using him as a punch bag, Aunt Pentunia forcing him to mop the floor as opposed to eating and Uncle Vernon letting him out of the cupboard under the stairs so he could throw a pair of old socks at him for Christmas were only few of the memories he remembered as he recalled the hate, the jealously and the hell that was living in Number Four Privet Drive.
"They were horrible," Harry whispered, bearly able to contain the new hatred he felt.
"Maybe but the following morning as they found you on the doorstep they still kept you. You were treated poorly, horrendeously even but they still kept you. And you won't understand now but later in the story you'll realize they saved your life," Hermione said, seriously, "Well I think that is quite enough for today."
"Wait, just a question," Harry said, "What ever happened to those horrible Dursleys?"
Hermione gave him a most icy look before saying, "They, being the family of the great Harry Potter, were naturally one of the first Muggle families to be killed by the Dark Lord."
Harry was almost about to say good riddance but then he stopped. It was too terrible a thing to say. No one deserved to die...did they?
He guessed Hermione sensed what he was about to say, "Can you judge who deserves life and who deserves death?"
She breathed in deeply, stood up and exited the room leaving Harry to his thoughts.
Harry scurried down the hall as Luna led him to the usual Meeting room. The top of the DA had called upon him and he was in no place to disagree. In fact he was rather excited. Usually he had no clue what the DA was up to. He wondered what they had to say to him.
Luna opened the door and slid in and took a chair. Even under the quivering eyes of the top of the DA she moved at her own easy pace. Since they were running rather late, as Harry knew, he was not so unfazed and scurried quickly to an empty seat beside Cho and Fred Weasley.
The meeting continued with a short speech from Zacharias Smith about giants and trolls in the northern mountains. Afterwards McGonagall took the stand once again to call someone else up to speak.
Harry wondered why they chose now to let him in the these meetings. Afterall he had been here and awake for a good few weeks now. However, he stopped his train of deep thought to concentrate on what was going on in the meeting.
"Draco, can you tell us how the search for Harry goes at the Ministry?" McGonagall asked, raising her glasses.
"Frankly, poor is the word," Draco replied.
He caught Harry's eye and for a second Harry thought he saw just a smidget of jealously and malice before Draco broke the contact by looking away. Truthfully deep down Harry had the most dreadful feeling about Draco and even as he had recalled memories of the boy at Hogwarts, all of them were bad. One thing was for sure, he and Draco Malfoy had been the worst of enemies in their school days. Trust was a word he just couldn't quite clapse onto him.
"Very well, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you," McGonagall said, not precceding with anymore questions at Harry's dismay. Apparently McGonagall trusted Malfoy with her life, "Now, Mr. Potter, I know you are quite curious as to why you are here?"
"Yes," Harry piped up, his voice cracking.
"Very well, to the explainations then. We have decided that some of the best ways you learn is to be at the place you're learning about. Afterall you have recalled seven years of Hogwarts in two seconds after just entering the building. We are hoping our next field trip, we are planning for you will be the same," McGonagall went on, "We understand you, no doubt, have concerns, especially after the last fieldtrip went so horribly wrong. Well we have learnt not to be so leaniant on our security any longer. You will have no less than ten wiza-guards at your side including Hermione."
Harry nodded because he knew not what to say. After a while however, questions came to mind, "Where are we going, exactly?"
"Well, it's something we haven't quite decided upon. We're stuck between choosing Godric's Hollow or Privet Drive. Both have its pro's and con's," McGonagall said, "But to tell you the truth we're leaning towards Godric's Hollow. It comes first in the chronicles of your life. Start from the beginning, they say. It is an all wizard neighborhood and there is little chance of Voldemort expecting you there. What say you?"
"I suppose we could go to Godric's Hollow," Harry agreed, though rather half-heartedly.
"Wonderful, we shall begin the planning as soon as possible," McGonagall replied, flashing him a small but rare smile, "You may leave to lunch."
Harry stood and drew back his chair. Padma joined him as he left.
Draco watched him go and wondered what life was like for the great Harry Potter. What was it like in that body that coursed with energy, pulsed with magic and had an aura of power? Actually what was it like for the body, being trapped with Potter, who knew not how to use it properly. Lord knows he hadn't use all his magical talent to his full potential.
He dusted the sour thoughts of Potter out of his mind and turned his attention back to the meeting. They were all planning Potter's little escapade to Godric's Hollow. How perfectly endearing. Yet it was not all dull for Draco. He could get some fun out of it in ways only he knew how. Perhaps he could lure Weasley to Privet Drive, telling him Harry could be there. Telling him he had been fifty percent sure that Potter was going to be there. Technically he had been fifty percent sure that Potter was going to be there so any Veritaserum could do no harm.
It would give him another good laugh to see Weasley go Potter-hunting only to see him never arrive. Tricking that red-haired buffoon once was enough to leave been thirsting for more.
"So then, all we do is wait-wait for Potter to arrive," Draco explained.
"Privet Drive you say?" Ron repeated, wrinkling his nose, "Tell me why would Potter go there? He hated the place."
"How would you know?" Draco questioned, teasing him subtly about his friendship with Potter.
"We all know that," Ron muttered, tying a shoe lace.
The two of them were sitting in the library in at the Ministry. It seemed as if they were having a very quaint, pleasant, conversation about the weather. Their faces were a glow with light that trickled in from outside. Strangest thing the Death Eaters found about Weasley was how he enjoyed the day time. How the glow of the sun and the bright yellowy warmth made him-dare they say-smile? Draco snorted as he thought about it. Once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor.
"Yes, well, he's going back to collect some stuff he's forgotten or to contact somebody or something," Draco snapped back, "Why else would he go?"
"I don't know, Malfoy," Ron continued, "You seem to have problems about giving me the wrong leads recently."
"Well this one is right. I'm fifty percent sure he'll be there," Draco answered.
Ron leaned forward, until he was close enough to Draco to whisper yet be dangerously loud, "Are you willing to bet a cup of Veritaserum on that?"
"Yes," Draco said, smooth and clear.
"Fine then, I'll go, Malfoy, but on one condition," Ron added.
"Name it," Draco said, promptly.
"You come with me on this one. We are supposed to be a team here," Ron ended.
"Deal," Draco responded.
"Is everything ready? Is everyone ready?" Hermione asked, standing up and looking around.
The room where she and Harry usually studied in was small and now the usual eleven person capacity was taking its toil. The floorboards were creaking...
"Alright then! Let's be off!" Hermione declared, grinning like mad.
"Hermione! Hermione, wait!" Harry called, pushing his way to the front of the room.
She turned and stopped for him, "Yes?"
Harry leaned in and yet seemed rather shy to say what he wanted to in front of all these people.
"Erm-he cleared his throat-can we talk privately?" he suggested, twisting his hands together.
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"Sure," she agreed in rather surprised tones.
They cornered together in onto one side of the room. Hermione had told the rest of them not to listen in. She waited, earnestly for Harry to speak whatever was on his mind.
"I know this is sort of last minute but...I can't go to Godric's Hollow," Harry stated, his face serious enough to not give the impression of joking around.
"What? Oh, Harry, why not?" Hermione inquired, shock written all over her soft expressions.
"I can't go to the place where my parents died; I'm just not ready for that," Harry replied, looking more nervous by the second.
Hermione looked at him in a state of incredulous surprise for a second before taking a deep breath, "Well if you're not ready we won't go. Do you have any objectionsagainst going toPrivet Drive?"
Harry seemed to think for a second. He wasn't too peachy keen to go where his aunt and uncle had died either. But he didn't want to disappoint Hermione with another blow. This was a carefully planned trip.
"No, I suppose we could go there," Harry agreed finally.
After all what could go wrong? Surrey was not known as a hot bed for Death Eater action and with ten fully capable witches and wizards on his side he knew he was in safe hands. But could he prepare himself for the emotions? Already he felt himself getting queasy. He knew that whatever he recalled in Privet Drive would not at all be joyous.
Author's Note: Hello, hello, hello. Expect a surprise from Ron next chapter.
winky-wink