The Parting of the Veil by weaselqueen00 aka Lesley
Rated: PG-13/R
Disclaimer: Draco, Ron, Harry, and company are mine! ALL MINE! MWAHAHAHA! is pulled off to the side by scary looking legal people Oh, all right. I was just kidding. Really. sighs All characters, places etc. belong to J.K. Rowling and her possy. I intend no harm in writing this fan fiction. Well… possible harm will be done to Draco Malfoy, but it's really out of my control. I mean… he's just so sexy.
Pairings: Draco/OC (Lacey), Ron/Hermione, Harry/OC (Lacey) Harry/Girl!Blaise, implications of former relationships between Ginny/Harry, Draco/Pansy very complicated, I know
Spoliers: Books 1-5 (SS/PS – OotP), majority written before HBP
Summary: Here's a story of magic and mayhem galore/ Brave Harry Potter, evil Voldemort, and more/ A pretty exchange student, a black veil too/ Werewolves, a death, a million boo hoos/ Padfoot is dead, so most people say/ Well those in denial, those who pray, Harry's on your side, hip hip hooray/ Dreams of curtains, barking, some green light/ Kidnapping, snogging, Quidditch, and fights/ Hermione and a Weasley? The Yule Ball gone awry/ Potions, Dumbledore's Army, dementors, oh my/ Chaos, disorder, hearts will break and rot/ Draco Malfoy forever bad? Nah, just hot/ Things are not what people seem to see/ A traitor amongst friends? Could it be/ Cupid's arrow strikes a Slytherin unwary/ Enemies become friends, ooh! How scary/ Can someone so good love someone so bad/ When a person gets angry will they stay mad/ Telekinesis, drunken nights, a door/ Want to know what happens? You'll have to read more/ I've tried my best, please if you're kind, read my tale/ And now, without further ado, I present The Parting of the Veil!
Author's Note: Is this a Mary Sue? Probably. But I only did it because people wanted me to! I had originally intended this to be a Ginny/Draco fic, but I started getting requests and ideas from friends. Someone wanted Ron and Hermione to get together, another person wanted a good Girl!Blaise, and someone else wanted me to somehow make Sirius Black not so dead anymore. So I figured, why not go all out and throw in a Mary Sue. No harm was intended in making this fic, I did it for my own and for my friends' amusement. This is my first Harry Potter fanfic (I used to be a big LOTR shipper) so be nice! Actually, I appreciate reviews of all sorts: praises, creative criticism, ideas, etc. Hope you enjoy.
Author's P.S.: I'm perfectly aware Blaise Zabini is a boy. Unfortunately, I started writing it before I found that out. So Blaise will remain a girl for this story.
Author's P.P.S.: About 70 of this fic was written prior to the HBP release. Since so much has changed since then and half the stuff could probably never happen, this will just be labeled as an AU fic.
Chapter One: The Same as Usual, Except, Not
And believe in something more for me tonight
Start to begin life and not end it now…
To a fresh start
To wipe the slate clean
To start again
A new beginning
To get back on track
Restoration
That everyone should
Realize how they can feel alive…
"New Beginnings," No Motiv
She reached out one slender-fingered hand and tugged at her hair, making sure her dark, chestnut locks were properly tucked up into a loose bun. Glancing at her watch, she noticed she was right on time. She reached into the right back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of parchment: One that was torn around the edges as if hastily ripped, and creased deeply, as if it had been opened and folded many times. And it had been.
She unfolded the paper once more and carefully read the untidy script on it. She had read those words so many times, she knew what it said by heart, but read it once more just to be safe. Crumpling the parchment, she pulled out her wand. Whispering a word she tapped the paper with her wand and it burst into flames, curling, turning black, and then falling to the ground in a miniscule pile of ashes.
Closing her eyes she thought of what she had read on the now destroyed parchment. Number twelve, Grimmauld Place. A battered door of aged wood instantly appeared in front of her, walls, windows, and a roof following. She gave a start of surprise, hopping back slightly, her dark eyes widening with a mixture of shock, wonder, and nervousness.
This was it. There was no turning back now. She slowly and deliberately walked up the stone steps her trunk in tow, and slowly and carefully gripped the knocker with a trembling hand.
Knock, knock, knock. Her heart pounded slightly in her chest, and her stomach twisted into a knot, nervous about what was coming next. She could hear muffled footsteps approaching through the door, and took a deep breath as it swung open, attempting at calming her nerves. Her eyes showed a glint of apprehension and excitement, but nevertheless, she smiled wide at the dark-haired, green-eyed teenager in baggy clothes that stood in the doorway, gaping.
"Hello, you must be Harry Potter," she said.
Harry sighed and pushed his chair back, standing up and walking from the table and out of the kitchen.
"I've got to go clean up some stuff," he said glumly to Ron and Hermione, as he walked out of the room, the door banging behind him.
Hermione and Ron's eyes met. "Cleaning" could only mean one thing. Ever since Sirius's death at the end of their fifth year, Harry had changed somewhat. He was still brave, and kind, and furiously loving and loyal, but there were times he also seemed distant and lonely. After experiencing all of sixth year with the new Harry, his two friends had grown adjusted to his mannerisms, knowing that he would never entirely get over his godfather's death. And to top it all off, even this much later he still was slowly sorting through Sirius's things, cleaning out his bedroom, and so forth when not at school.
As Harry climbed the long flights of stairs to his room, he sighed heavily, his legs feeling more like lead than they had ever felt. Being back at the Order of the Phoenix, the Blacks' house had reminded him of how much he really missed Sirius, almost to the point where he thought he couldn't bear it any longer.
Sitting on his bed, he reached for the melted and twisted blob of plastic and steel, the last remnants of the beloved knife Sirius had given him. It had been melted and rendered into something useless during his confrontation with Voldemort, and the death of his godfather in the Department of Mysteries just at the end of fifth year.
He felt the familiar weight in his hand, closing his fist around it. And then bringing his hand to his lips, he kissed it gently in a tender gesture. He knew that he would someday have to finally let go of Sirius, but there was something in his heart that knew, or at least hoped desperately, that he was still alive somewhere.
He placed the knife back onto his bedside table, right next to the chipped hand mirror Sirius had given him as a way for them to communicate during Umbridge's short reign as Headmaster at Hogwarts. He had found the partner to his mirror in Sirius's sock drawer, and had given it to Ron for safekeeping.
Lying back on his still unmade bed, he stared up at the ceiling, thinking and seeing, but not really thinking and seeing at all. The sunlight streaming through the window cast its rays on Harry, a gentle, warm caress for the heartbroken, but slowly healing boy. Harry felt his eyelids droop and felt himself floating away into the dark haze of sleep.
Harry gasped as he looked around. He was once again walking through the long dark corridor of the Department of Mysteries: one that he hadn't seen or been in for over a year. Turning a corner, a black door swung open taking him through another hallway and into a stone amphitheatre. The auditorium was like those of ancient times, with hard benches circling the room, and a round stage at the bottom.
Instead of walking he flew down the stairs, and then he saw the raised platform, on which rested the tall columns and a black veil in-between. But then he wasn't in the amphitheatre anymore, in fact, far from it. The black veil still remained before him, but his surroundings had changed and he was in a large courtyard or garden of some sort.
Whispering voices and haunting melodies reached his ears, and a soft breeze blew. Harry stepped closer to the veil as if knowing those sounds and that wind were coming from just behind it. And then he heard a distinct voice, talking louder and clearer than the others. That voice morphed into the sound of a laugh like a bark and Harry knew who was behind the veil.
Sirius.
Harry's heart started to flutter with hope when a flash of green light crossed his vision and his godfather's bark turned into a scream. Wicked laughter reached Harry. Knowing there was trouble, Harry reached towards the veil and walked through it.
Or at least, tried to.
His head banged against the veil that had become a wooden door.
Bolting upright, Harry panted heavily as if he had just come in from Quidditch practice. His scar upon his forehead burned slightly, and he clapped a hand over it, willing the pain away. Running his hands through his hair, he suddenly leaped out of bed when he realized someone was knocking at the door.
"I'll get it!" he shrieked, racing down the stairs and into the front hall. It seemed as though no one had heard the knocking, and Sirius's mother's portrait wasn't even screaming horrible insults to get anyone's attention. Mrs. Black had stopped yelling and screeching at every disturbance once she had learned of her son's death. Although she seemed to hate him as a flower hates a gnome, she still was grieved.
Harry pulled his pants up higher on his hips with one hand and reached for the doorknob with another. He could only assume it was Mundungus, who was the only one who ever knocked. But, as Harry supposed, it was probably because Mrs. Weasley never was able to trust him completely to tell him how to open the door.
He slowly pulled the door open, but his grin suddenly turned into a frown, and then into a mixture of surprise and apprehension.
Mundungus wasn't standing in front of the doorway. A girl was.
Harry was only vaguely aware that the girl had said his name and he nodded faintly wondering who she was and how she found out the location of the Order of the Phoenix. He gripped his wand tightly inside the pocket of his jeans, not entirely sure if he should let her in or slam the door in her face.
Was it Tonks playing a joke? Was she a Death Eater in disguise? How did she know his name?
Harry must have been staring at her with a strange expression on his face, because she raised an eyebrow and said, "Well… aren't you going to let me in?"
"Um..." Harry began. But he never finished what he was going to say because all of a sudden Remus Lupin breezed into the foyer and proceeded to sweep the girl into his arms in a tight embrace.
"Uncle Moony!" she exclaimed happily, returning Lupin's hug. Lupin pulled back and studied the girl.
"You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you," Lupin commented.
"Yeah. That's because I'm seventeen now," the girl replied, rolling her eyes. "I think the last time we saw each other, I was twelve."
"Ah, right. Well… I suppose you've heard enough of that. Anyways… how's that cousin of mine? And his wife?"
"Well… mom and dad are still alive, if that's what you mean." She received a whack over the head for that. "Okay! I'm sorry! They're doing just fine, but they're a little worried about me living here."
"And that's perfectly understandable, considering the present circumstances," Lupin replied.
Suddenly, from behind them, someone cleared their throat rather loudly. It was Harry. He had stepped back when the girl dove into Lupin's hug, watching the pair's greeting in a rather bewildered way.
"Oh!" Lupin started. "Sorry Harry. I'm sure you're a bit miffed as to why a perfect stranger has shown up here of all places. I'll just call everyone down here and introduce everyone." He stepped over to the fireplace and reached for a bottle resting on top of the mantle. Casting some of the sparkling blue powder into the fire (it had turned a neon pink color) he called, "All of you guys… I need a word!"
As soon as he said those words, thundering footsteps could be heard as everyone in the house walked down the stairs from their bedrooms and out of the kitchen, den, living room, and garden. Like some stereotypical family television show Harry would sometimes watch at the Dursleys', they all gathered in the foyer, chattering quietly and wondering why they had been assembled.
Harry took this time to study the girl carefully and knew everyone else was doing the same. She was standing next to Lupin looking rather nervous, her brown hair swept back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, a few wisps swept across her forehead, and wearing a pale pink tank top and jeans. Her chocolate eyes stared at each of them in turn just as intently, sweeping from Harry, tall, thin, with unruly black hair, vivid green eyes, and an unmistakable lightning bolt scar on his forehead, to the Weasley kids (Bill to Ginny) and their parents all with flaming red hair. Her eyes then roamed to Hermione, who was smiling encouragingly, her thick, honey-brown hair slightly longer than it had been the year previous, and her skin golden from spending half the summer in Greece with her Muggle parents.
The girl couldn't help but smile slightly, warming instantly towards Hermione who seemed quite friendly, and half laughing at her own nervousness. After all, they seemed like nice people, and if Lupin liked them, so would she.
Lupin spoke again, bringing the girl and everyone else out of their reveries. "Well, everyone… this is Lacey Lupin. She's my cousin's only daughter and as I've mentioned to some of you, she'll be staying here for the year as a foreign exchange student at Hogwarts and as the newest edition to the Order. But I think that's enough for now." He turned to Lacey, "I'm sure you'll have fun here, and we'll take your things and bring them up to your room." Lupin smiled once more at Lacey and turned to leave the room. "You'll have to forgive me, dear… I promised I'd speak with Kingsley now and I'd hate to keep him waiting."
As he left, Mrs. Weasley bustled forward in a motherly manner and began herding everyone back upstairs, speaking to Lacey as she did so. "Hello, dear, it's so nice to finally meet you. Remus has said such wonderful things about you. I'm sure you're exhausted from your trip and I'm sure you would like to rest and freshen up. I'll bring your luggage up and show you to your room." She turned to everyone else. "Now I want you all to be on your best behavior and let Lacey rest. We've got a welcoming party tonight and you can get to know her then." She turned back to Lacey who was quite overwhelmed by Mrs. Weasley's fast talking. "Now, you can just follow me. Be careful of the fourth step, it likes to trip visitors."
"We'll take her, mum!" two redheaded boys said in unison, friendly, but mischievous smiles plastered on their identical faces.
"Well… alright Gred and Forge, go on then." Mrs. Weasley then hurried off to join Remus and Kingsley.
"Gred and Forge, eh?" one of the twins said to the other. "Mum must be mad."
"I'd say you're bloody well right on that one, bro," the other replied. He turned to Lacey. "I'm Gred, better known as George, and this is Forge, or Fred."
Lacey laughed. "Well it's nice to meet you both." She let the stocky twins magic her luggage into the air as they started moving it up the stairs. "Now, which stair is the one that likes to trip people?"
"It's the third one," George answered slyly. At that moment, Lacey skipped over the third step and jumped to the fourth, only to be sent sprawling up the stairs, her hands out in front of her to brace herself.
"By 'third,' I think he meant 'fourth,'" Fred said. Lacey laughed good-naturedly and followed the boys up two flights of stairs. The twins pointed out their room, Hermione and Ginny's room, and Harry and Ron's room along the way. Right across the hall from Hermione and Ginny's, they stopped.
"We would like to welcome you to your humble abode," George said, as Fred opened the bedroom door and bowed.
"Why, thank you kind sirs," Lacey replied as her bags and trunk set themselves on the floor at the foot of her bed. She waved to Fred and George before shutting her door, intent on unpacking her things.
"So, why is it that I knew absolutely nothing about Lindsay until today?" Ron asked sitting on his unmade bed and frowning.
"It's Lacey," Hermione corrected him. "And besides… she seems really nice. It'll be fun for a change to have another girl around."
"Yeah," Ginny agreed from her spot on the floor between Ron and Harry's beds. "She's really pretty too."
"Because we care about that," Ron said rolling his eyes. "I mean… we hang out with you girls."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked glaring at him. Ron flushed pink.
"No… I didn't mean that…"
"Oh, Ron, give me a break. Besides, they know you didn't mean anything by it," Harry interrupted. "But what I want to know is why someone, especially Lupin, didn't say anything about Lacey before. She's Lupin's niece for bloody sakes."
"Well… technically he's not my uncle," a voice chimed in from the doorway. "He's actually my dad's cousin, which would make him my second cousin, or first cousin once removed, or something like that."
The four of them turned around, startled. "Mind if I come in?" Lacey was standing at the doorway smiling confidently, but her tentative posture gave away her uncertainty.
"Oh! Of course!" Hermione exclaimed, smiling warmly.
"Thanks." Lacey walked across the room and flopped down next to Ron on his messy bed. She looked thoughtfully at the crumpled sheet next to her and then across at Harry's bed, neatly made. "I don't ever make my bed either,' she whispered to Ron, who was attempting to make his bed without being noticed.
"I don't believe we've all been introduced yet. I'm Ginny Weasley," the petite girl said.
"Oh, of course! I can't believe I forgot about that. I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said. "And that's Harry Potter, obviously."
"And you must be Ron Weasley," Lacey assumed. "Uncle Moony's told me all about you guys. But don't worry… he's only said good things."
Harry had been sitting quietly on his bed, observing Lacey as Hermione chatted away. It was only now that he noticed Lacey had an American accent. She seemed nice, and was friendly and funny, but for some reason Harry didn't feel quite entirely comfortable with her yet. Before he could stop himself, he asked what he'd been wanting to know, "Why are you here? How come we didn't know about you until today?"
The four others turned to look at him, surprised as his sudden question. Lacey seemed unfazed by it and answered readily. Perhaps she thought if she answered all their questions without any hesitation, they'd finally fully trust her.
"As said before, I'm here as a foreign exchange student. I know I'll be the only one, considering everyone's too scared because of Voldemort." Ron flinched when he heard the name, but Hermione noticed a quick flash of some emotion in Harry's eyes. Triumph, maybe?
"Anyways," Lacey continued, "There's a good reason only some people knew about me coming. Dumbledore, Lupin, others. Security measures. I'm staying at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore was afraid if everyone knew, word would get out and it would jeopardize security. Don't ask me how."
"Well, it makes sense," Hermione said.
"It does?" Ron asked, confused.
"Well, yes. If everyone knew Lacey was coming here, word could get to the wrong people. They could have followed her here and then found out about the Order. That's why we didn't know about it. That's why she's dressed in Muggle clothes," Hermione explained simply. "Happy now, Harry?" She looked rather disgruntled.
"Wow. You're good." Lacey was impressed.
"Too good," Harry said, looking half impressed, half embarrassed. That would teach him to keep his mouth shut from now on.
"So, Lupin said you were the newest member of the Order. How come you get to be in it and we don't?" Ginny wondered.
"Me? A member? I think he was just hypothetically speaking. My parents are, though," Lacey said.
"Do your parents work for Gringotts?" Ron asked.
"My dad does. Mom's a healer. And yes, my parents were two of the Americans Bill was able to recruit for the Order," Lacey replied.
"Is there activity there?" Harry was suddenly rapt with attention. "What do you know about Voldemort?"
"Well… there's been some recent killings, and the government's screwed. Our President of Magic is a corrupt old bastard, and Death Eater wannabes are everywhere. But actual Death Eaters? I'm not so sure about that. I know a few of my classmates' fathers are involved in shady stuff and I can only assume that they're agents of Voldemort. I do know for a fact that Voldemort's influence is everywhere." Lacey looked grim. "So what about here? My parents won't tell me a damn thing, and I haven't been able to weasel much information out of Moony, either. And Harry, you've got to tell me all about your adventures and life as 'hero of this world,'" Lacey teased. Ginny snorted.
Just then, Ron's stomach rumbled. "I'm starving."
The fireplace in the room crackled and pink flames appeared. "Kids! Dinner's ready!"
"Looks like your prayers are answered, Weasley," Harry said.
"There is a God! I knew it!" Ron waved his wand once and disappeared with a pop. Following suit, Harry, Hermione, and Lacey also disapparated to the kitchen, laughing.
Ginny looked murderous and started out the door and down the stairs. "Sure… just because you're of age now doesn't mean you have to flaunt it. Magic during summer holidays, my ass," she grumbled.
"And welcome to Diagon Alley!" Hermione said.
"Oooh!" Lacey squealed. "It's so charming! I love London!" Her eyes twinkled as she admired the cobbled streets, the quaint store windows, and took in the smell of food and potions, and the sight of goblins, and dwarfs, and all other magical creatures.
"Well… since you need new school robes, and so does Harry, why don't you two head over to Madam Malkin's and the rest of us will get books," suggested Hermione.
"Sounds good. We'll meet you at the pet store in half an hour. I've got to pick up some owl pellets for Hedwig," Harry replied.
So Harry and Lacey head off to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, only stopping once to get free ice cream from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Florean had taken a liking to Harry in his third year when he would spend all day in his shop studying, and despite Harry's red cheeks and babbling, insisted on giving "his special lady friend" a snack too.
They walked into the store together, filled with shy first years and a few older kids, and were herded to stools to stand on by a walking mannequin stuck full of pins. An elderly witch, squat and grumpy approached the two of them and began measuring them.
"Hey Harry!" two seventh year girls called, waving and giggling. They were both very pretty and were dressed in fashionable summer robes.
Harry flushed slightly and sheepishly waved back. "Hi."
"Who's your friend?" one of the girls asked.
"I'm Lacey Lupin. I'm a foreign exchange student," Lacey replied. The two girls reminded her of some of her friends back home. A little too girly and giggly, but nice.
"I'm Lavender, and this is Parvati," the tall girl with light hair said. "Well, we've got to get measured. See you around." Both of them waved and headed to the other side of the room.
"They seemed nice," Lacey commented.
"Er… yes," Harry said, not quite sure what to say.
A while later, Lacey and Harry both emerged from Madam Malkin's, loaded with parcels containing black cloaks, black robes, and grey pullovers, blazers, sweater vests, skirts, pants, white Oxford shirts, and ties.
Lacey shifted her load in her arms slightly, reaching into the pocket of her khaki skirt and pulling out her wand. She tapped her parcels once and they immediately shrunk down into the size of one shopping bag. "Here," she said, also shrinking Harry's things down for him.
But he hardly noticed. He was staring intently in the other direction, watching something or someone carefully that Lacey couldn't see from her position.
"Here, take this," Harry said abruptly, shoving his bag into Lacey's stomach rather roughly. "I'll meet you guys later." He turned to go in the other direction.
"But wait!" Lacey began. "What about the owl pellets?"
"Just buy them for me. Ron knows what kind to get. I'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron in an hour." And with that, Harry jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and head off, head bent down slightly, blue robes floating out behind him, and walking rather quickly.
He apparated right in front of Devita's Diamond Jewelers, his dark cloak swirling around him, his hood drawn up to hide his face. People bustled by, muttering to themselves, carrying huge packages, or gossiping about the latest article in the Daily Prophet. All of them passed him by, oblivious to the one lone, dark figure.
Good. It was better if no one saw him.
He glanced once to the left, once to the right, and once behind him, just barely flicking his eyes in each direction. When he saw no one following him, he quickly moved into the shadow of the jewelry shop, shielded from the sun. He was uncomfortably sweaty though his cloak was charmed to keep cool during even the hottest day of summer, but he was hot not from the sun, but from trepidation.
He peeked in the window and saw the store was filled with people. It was the perfect time of day to do this. He wanted as many in the store as possible. All the commotion and noise would distract anyone that might be watching from what he was going to do.
He pushed the door open and strolled in, his expensive shoes clicking against the marble floor. Making his way past people, trying to avoid being jostled, he arrived at a glass counter in the back of the store.
He pulled something out of the folds of his robes, fingering it firmly, his long, thin fingers rolling the object back and forth. Closing his fist around it tightly, he squeezed his hand hard, until he felt the cold metal dig painfully into his palm.
He looked up when he sensed someone behind the counter in front of him, and he raised his head slightly. The man standing in front of him was lean and lank, cloaked in black robes, only the sallow skin of his hands, neck, and face showing between the layers of fabric. The man swept his stringy, oily hair from his face and his black eyes only showed the slightest flicker of recognition before he spoke.
"Yes? How may I help you, today, sir?" the man behind the counter said.
The other pushed his dark hood back, revealing silvery hair, steely grey eyes, and a pale, pointed face with delicate features. "Hello, Professor Snape," he drawled, voice low and barely above a whisper.
"Why, young Master Malfoy, what a pleasant surprise," Snape replied, speaking carefully as if measuring each word. "How may I help you?"
Malfoy brought his hand forward, slapping the object that had been clenched in his fist hard on the glass counter. The large, pewter ring shone in the dim light, its red jewel gleaming. Thorns were carved on the ring, winding around the band and connecting to a skull, its mouth holding the ruby. It was beautiful and dangerous, wonderfully, but wickedly made.
"My father gave this to me recently, but the band doesn't quite fit right. I was hoping you could adjust it for me. I would have shrunken the ring myself, but it holds great power, and I did not want to risk harm," Malfoy explained.
"Yes, I understand perfectly." Snape examined the ring closely before closing his hand around it. "I will have to look at this. It should be fixed within the week."
Malfoy nodded curtly, looking bored, as usual. He leaned casually against the counter, ankles crossed, his hair looking elegantly mussed. "I appreciate that." He stuck out one hand.
Snape looked at it for a moment, before pressing his hand into Malfoy's. Snape grasped the hand firmly and shook it, bending his head slightly, so his mouth was near Malfoy's ear. Malfoy felt his hair ruffle slightly as Snape murmured something, and muttered a response back, hardly moving his lips at all. Both of them stepped back from each other, and Malfoy gave a swift nod before turning away and sweeping out of the store onto the bright, cobblestone street of Diagon Alley.
Malfoy inhaled deeply, breathing in the smell of fresh air. His usual leisurely stroll now had an added bounce in it. He reached into the pocket of his pants, but withdrew his hand when he realized the ring he was looking for was currently not with him. He struggled not to smile. Malfoys never smiled. But he strangely couldn't help feeling somewhat freer and more hopeful. A strange thing for him to feel indeed.
Something seen out of the corner of his eye caught Harry's attention. A dark figure walking swiftly down the street looked oddly familiar to Harry. Shoving his purchases into Lacey's stomach rather roughly (he heard her grunt as the air whooshed out of her lungs) Harry sped after the figure, not looking back.
Harry followed, staying close enough as not to lose him, but far enough behind so he wouldn't seem like he was following. Amazingly, he found himself led to a jewelry shop nearby, and not to Knockturn Alley, where he assumed the mysterious figure was sure to go.
Once the figure went inside the shop, Harry waited a minute before going in, and just in time to see him push his hood back and reveal pale, blond hair.
"Malfoy," Harry growled under his breath. What was Malfoy doing here out of all places? It probably wasn't anything good.
Just then, a voice came from just behind his left shoulder. "May I help you with something, sir?" a salesman asked looking rather annoyed.
"Er…" Harry began. "Er… I'm just looking at this watch over here," he lied quickly.
The salesman narrowed his eyes, but soon they opened wide in recognition, and his eyes swept to his forehead and noticed his scar. "Oh, of course, Mr. Potter. I shall leave you to browse."
"Thanks," Harry grumbled, feeling the familiar mix of irritation and embarrassment whenever someone recognized him and so obviously stared at the thin, lightning bolt-shaped scar that adorned his forehead.
Harry pretended to be interested in a particular gold watch, all the while keeping an eye on Malfoy. To his amazement, Snape was behind the counter talking to him, and seemed to work in the shop. He couldn't tell what they were saying, but saw Malfoy hand something small that glimmered red and silver to Snape. Harry was pretty sure he saw Malfoy and Snape whisper a few words out of the corner of their mouths to each other as they shook hands, but Harry's glasses were smudged, so he wasn't positive what he saw.
Harry held his breath and ducked under a table as Malfoy sauntered past, and didn't leave the store until he had seen him walk down the street and disapparate on a corner.
And then Harry burst out of the shop and ran down the brick street to the pet shop where he knew everyone was waiting, hair blowing in the breeze, and his light blue cloak trailing behind him.
"That's odd," Hermione said. "So you're saying Harry just left you?"
"Yeah. He shoved his bag at me and just walked off without saying anything. I think he saw someone," Lacey mused.
"Maybe it was Cho, yeah?" Ron said, snorting.
"Please Ron, there hasn't been a Cho since fifth year," Ginny replied rolling her eyes. "You know that."
"Who's Cho?" Lacey asked, interested to know about Harry's love life.
"Harry's ex-girlfriend. He liked her for ages and they finally went out fifth year. It didn't really work out though," Hermione said.
"Yeah," Ginny added, "I was more of a physical attraction, but they were better off as friends. Remember how Harry and Cho would get into fights?"
"I remember," Hermione replied.
"Too bad Cho left last year," Ron frowned. "She was hot."
Lacey laughed. "Ron, you pig," she teased.
Just then their laughter was interrupted when Harry burst into the pet store, startling some owls in their cages. He walked up to them, out of breath.
"Harry… what--?" Lacey began.
Harry cut her off. "You guys will never guess who I just saw."