The shadow turned quickly upon the break of nature's silence. "Who's there?" the man whispered, whipping his head around repeatedly.

"Harry" Draco called again. He took the last few steps that separated them. The man turned his head toward the sound, but his gaze landed somewhere off to the left of Draco's shoulder.

Draco's hand came to graze against Harry's cheek. The teen jumped in surprise and fear, bringing his hands up to protect his face.

"What do you want from me?" Harry cried out.

Draco lowered his arm before he answered. "Harry, it's me Draco. Dumbledore said that I could come get you for your birthday."

"Okay," the man whispered confused, "but who is Harry?"

Draco realed in shock.

"You are. Don't you remember? Dumbledore said that you couldn't come to the Manor until after your birthday." Harry still had that dazed look on his face, but Draco continued, "Didn't you get any of our letters? Ron, Hermione, and I were so worried about you."

"I didn't get any letters. What use would I have for them anyway, when there is no light to read from," Harry raised an eyebrow, "You are very strange, Mr. Draco? Did you say?"

"Come on Harry. Let me take you away from here," draco said, but he hesitated to grab the man again for fear of scaring him. He couldn't let himself do it again.

"I can't leave with you. Aunt Petunia said she would tell me when I could go, but I haven't seen her in such a long time. Did you talk to her?" There was so much hope in his voice.

"I'll go talk to her right now for you. Okay Harry? I'll be right back." Harry nodded, still looking off into space.

Draco had to force himself to leave his love. What had happened? He really needed to talk to this Petunia woman. She could hopfully tell him what was wrong. If he didn't kill her first.

He walked through each door, quickly shutting the one with a large lump on the bed. Filthy, it smelled as if something had died in there.

The next room was the largest yet. He turned on the light and wished he hadn't.

An anorexicly thin woman lay on her side. Long since dried blood ran down her face from a hole in her head. A face of fear that he hadn't seen since Voldemort's time was thrown across what was left of her face. An obese man was sitting leaning against the head board. Blood was splattered on the wall from a gaping in the back of his head. He held a piece of metal in his hand. Maggots had already taken residence, and looked as if they had been there for some time.

Draco left the room at a run, throwing up in the hall. He didn't dare look in the other room again. The house was a trap of death and he needed to get Harry out.

NOW.