DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own the characters. The only thing that I own is the choice to write this chapter . . . . I think.
Strange and C.B.: thanks for all of your ideas for this chapter and I'm now writing this so you'll get off by back making sure I update this story.
Thanks to all the reviewers!
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Chapter 4: discoveries
1 year later
A cloaked figure walked up the silent path, muttering to himself, "Lets see . . . number 12 . . . so that's number 4 . . . number 6 . . . number 8 . . . number 10 . . . and . . ."
The figure stopped in the middle of two houses.
The street had an eerie silence to it. There was no wind, no nighttime animals, no noise from any of the other house, and no lights were lit. Anywhere. It was as though no one else lived in this run down, old street anymore.
From his cloak the figure pulled out a piece of paper. There was only one sentence written on it: 12 Grimmauld place
Stowing the paper back into the hidden pocket it had come from, the individual, almost inaudibly, repeated what had been written in the message.
Suddenly, the two houses on either side of the small alley started moving in opposite directions as an extra house unfolded in front of the stranger's eyes.
Quickly walking up the path, the figure took out a long, carved stick and pointed it at the door handle to this new house. "Alohomora!" he whispered.
The door unlocked itself, allowing the wizard to walk onto the threshold, only a small creak echoing around the entrance as he did so.
Slowly, the figure slid down his hood to reveal shiny, platinum blonde hair and a pale, slim face.
"What an unwelcoming sight," Draco Malfoy muttered in disgust. "You'd think my family would try and make it more presentable, even if they are dead," he looked around, lighting his wand as he did so. "I wonder where the treasures are."
Malfoy didn't bother to keep his voice down while he searched the kitchen for any gold goblets. No one was supposed to be here and this was his family home, even if, legally, it did belong to that apparent 'hero' Potter.
Harry Potter had been pronounced dead by the Ministry for some months now; it wasn't as if he would be jumping around this house of all places anyway -------
"What are you doing here," a cold, hard and hoarse voice hissed in Malfoy's wake.
Surprised, Malfoy jumped, dropping the goblet out of shock. Scared out of his wits by what he was seeing.
"You-your-you're m-meant t-t-to b-be de-dead!" he stuttered out of fright.
"Am I? Well, obviously, I'm not," Harry looked at his schoolyard enemy-turned-bad-turned-good-but-still-evil-in-his-own-way.
Regaining his confidence and trademark smirk, Malfoy picked p the fallen goblet and made to stash it in a pocket, but was instantly stopped by Harry, "What are you doing here?"
Malfoy blinked, "Taking back all the things that are rightfully mine!" he said with an air of superiority.
Harry grunted, and then turned around to leave the kitchen.
Malfoy, even if he did hate Harry, had never seen him like this, and, with immense difficulty, he spoke almost kindly. "Why haven't you gone back to your friends?"
Harry stopped short and hesitated for a moment before he answered, "Because they don't want me around," he said quietly.
"Really," Malfoy did not succeed in trying to keep an amused tone from his voice. "I was under the impression that they all wanted to see you again."
Abruptly, Harry turned around, an almost insane look on his face, his wand held at Malfoy's throat, "You are not to tell anyone. Anyone at all, that I am here," he hissed dangerously.
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"Hey Ginny!" A voice called.
Ginny turned around to face it and found Hermione. "Hey," she whispered back quietly.
Hermione smiled sympathetically. "We're all going to meet at the Burrow. You know, the whole family plus my parents and Luna, Neville . . . You know, the old crowd. Why don't you come?"
Ginny shook her head sadly. "I wish I could come, but I have to work. I'll see you later," and with that, the younger girl turned away from her friend and hurried away through the wind.
She pushed open a misted door to find herself greeted with the scent of sugar.
"Hi Gin!" another girl, Marta, said from behind boxes of Butterbeer.
"Ah, Ginny," Madame Rosmerta greeted her employee. Can go and watch the counter with Marta? And watch out for that group over there. Don't give then any more drinks."
Ginny smiled and nodded, taking off her cloak, the bar was warm enough without it.
Since she had graduated from Hogwarts, Ginny had been working as a waitress at the Three Broomsticks. She didn't normally have a shift on Saturday, but ever since the Ministry of Magic had pronounced Harry Potter dead after absolutely no contact for a year, she had been working every day.
Sometimes, Ginny could feel it in her heart that Harry wasn't dead, but other times, she just realized that she had to face the truth.
"Two Firewhiskys please," a short, balding man said from the other side of the counter.
Ginny handed him the requested drinks, when she heard a familiar and unwelcome voice. "Oi, Weasley!" The voice drawled
Frustrated, as she really did not feel like dealing with him at the moment, Ginny replied irritably, "What Malfoy?"
"I've got some information you wanna know," he shot back.
"Malfoy, I'm really not in the mood –"
"What?" he asked, pretending to be astounded. "You don't want to know where he is? Well, excuse me. My mistake."
Tired, Ginny turned to face him, "Where who is?"
Malfoy lent close to her face so only she would be able to hear what he was about to say, "Potter," he whispered.
Shocked, Ginny took a step back. "B-but he's dead!" she said loudly, but not very confidently.
Malfoy smirked. "Which is why I just saw him. He's hiding out. Don't you ever wonder why he hasn't come to see you? Well, I know. You should probably know too. Stop you thinking that something good would have happened to you and your family for one-"
"How do you know? Why should I trust you?" Ginny questioned.
"Because I'm the only one who knows. And I could tell you if you wanted . . ."
Ginny hesitated. Here was her one chance at maybe finding out where Harry was if Malfoy was telling the truth . . . but Harry knew where he could find her and her family. If he just didn't want to bother, she wasn't going to bother to try and find him.
"I don't want to know, "she said clearly to Malfoy, who, after she spoke, left the bar.
I know, it's not that long. And yes it was pretty predictable, but, I've got plans for the rest of the story and I'm pretty sure it gets better. I think it will anyway. Please review!