Two weeks. Imma try and stick with this one. Chapter 6 is ready for upload. Hope you likey. Things are about to take a fast turn into exciting. BLAM! I've been saying that all week!
Disclamier: I really hate these. Don't own nothing. Blah
Warning: slash, yaoi, boy/boy, Mpreg and such. Don't like don't read. Real simple. Also, Draco/Harry and all other canons.
Chapter 5: Homecomings and Newspapers
Akito was sick of just about everything.
She was sick of the sun with its annoyingly bright rays of light. She was sick of the birds with their chirping. She was sick of people always talking and falling in love and trying to do whatever they wanted.
She was tired of everything.
And she hated it all, but most of all she hated that monster Tohru Honda and her stupid cousin.
Akito sighed and rolled over on her bed, burying her face into her pillow.
No.
That wasn't true.
If she was being honest with herself, the truth was – she envied Tohru. She envied that girl's likability. It wasn't fair that that stupid girl could be so well liked. There was nothing special about her.
But that wasn't completely true either.
But damn it, that didn't make Akito like her any more.
That meddlesome girl was still trying to steal her zodiac, trying to steal all those loyal to Akito. Yuki never questioned her before, never dared to make bold statements. Kyo never tried to act against her. Even Shigure was somewhat different.
And then there was that girl's infuriating cousin. Acting so bold and thinking he could just walk in and change everything. So what if he looked entrancing? So what if he had a charming accent? So what if he had the most captivating eyes ever – eyes that seemed to tell a story no one else could decipher. So what if he —?
"Hullo!"
Akito jerked upward at the cheerful sound that had dared to interrupt her peace. With a heated glare set firmly in place, she turned toward the outer door where the new bane of her existence was standing, grinning cheerfully as if he hadn't a care in the world.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
"What are you doing here? Who let you in?"
Harrison Potter shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and strolled casually into the room, looking around as if he had never seen the likes of this place before. Finally those luminous emeralds landed on Akito's figure.
"You look like hell," he told her. Akito's glare only intensified. "Well, whatever. Anyways, I came to visit you and to . . . talk to you about some things I heard, but then I ran into Kureno Sohma . . ." he trailed off and looked meaningfully at Akito, and a spike of fear tripped down her spine.
He couldn't know, he couldn't possibly know.
"Yeah, I found something rather . . . interesting about him. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."
Yes, he did know.
"How?"
He shrugged and offered no answer, and to be truthful, Akito wasn't expecting any answer. Harrison didn't seem like the type to give out explanations. Akito watched silently as he moved around the room, before sitting himself down on the edge of her bed.
"What I want," he finally said, tilting his head up so that he could pierce her with those luminous eyes, "Is to hear your story."
Akito blinked and uncoiled herself.
"What?"
That wasn't what she had expected him to say. Harrison's lips curled upward into a coy smirk as he repeated himself.
"I want to hear your side of the story. What is it that makes you who you are?"
Now Akito was glaring down at him. Who was he to demand an explanation?
"Well?"
"I don't have to tell you anything," Akito hissed, but the venom in her voice seemed to have no effect on him. He simply tilted his head to the side, amusement shinning in his eyes and he stated – rather cockily, "Oh, but I think you want to."
For a long moment the two were at an impasse, Akito glaring and Harrison staring back pleasantly. Akito was the first to fold and she did so by crossing her arms and turning away from him like some petulant child. Harrison chuckled lowly – deep and seductive. Akito wondered if the boy knew what that kind of laugh did to people.
"What exactly do you want?" This question seemed to surprise him, but only for a moment.
"From you? Nothing," he answered honestly – too honestly – with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Then why are you doing this," Akito demanded. Whatever good mood Harrison seemed to have, seemed to vanished completely at this question. He turned away from Akito and looked blankly over at the shoji doors. For a while he didn't answer, he just stared out at the chirping birds and the flowers bending gracefully in the gentle breeze.
"Because . . . all of you remind me of me, and I want to help. I know what it's like to be me and no one else should look like that."
Akito contemplated Harrison's words but could not make sense of it. How could this boy look at them and see himself. No one could possibly understand what they – as the Zodiac – could possibly have been through.
After a moment of thinking, she gave up trying to figure out the puzzle in his words.
"I don't want to talk to you," she finally told him, and she suddenly felt very tired, like she had run a mile and was finally stopping for a rest. "I don't want to talk about anything."
"Akito —"
"Just . . . just leave me alone," she told him and then added a 'please' when he didn't look like he was going to leave it alone.
Harrison stared at her for a long time, his eyes searching for something in her face. Whatever it was he seemed to find it for he nodded and stood up languishly, stretching like a cat that had been lounging for too long.
"We'll talk later," he called and then he was gone before Akito had a chance to demand that he stay away.
Draco Malfoy leaned back in the thick armchair and let out a sigh worthy of an old wealthy man – which he was, except for the old part.
He was sitting in one of the many offices that were located in his family's manor. A manor that was so big, he hadn't seen hind-nor-hair of his mother for a little over a week – and she was defiantly somewhere here if the house elves could be trusted.
This office was his personal one, located only a few paces from his personal quarters. The walls were a calming blue, a very neutral tone for a once Slytherin that was infatuated with a Gryffindor. A silver line separated the lighter blue on the bottom from the darker blue above it. A grand fireplace took up the west wall, looking large and imposing with smooth granite stone. Above the fireplace was a portrait of the one Malfoy who didn't dabble in the Dark Arts – Draco had come to grow quite fond of her.
The room was furnished with soft black letter chairs and dark imposing wood. It had an immaculate desk, strewn with papers and what-nots that often filled an office desk. There was a loveseat pushed up against the south wall, a throw folded neatly on its cushions. The floor was a dark cobalt that was polished to shine and reflect back a person's image.
It was in this office that Draco had spent the better part of the day – which was sadly almost over without having been the slightest bit uplifting.
A pale hand came up to his face, and he gently massaged his temple, where a headache had been throbbing since earlier that morning.
He hated weeks like this – or rather he hated this week of every year since three years ago, or should it have been four years ago? Whichever, this week was hell, and the constant memories did not help.
With another sigh, Draco sat forward and reached for the paper, the Daily Prophet that he hadn't been able to read that morning because of all the meeting he had been in. He wasn't all that interested in it, hadn't been for a while now, but when he picked it up, a familiar name jumped out at him.
Blinking repeatedly as if he had been hit with a Confundus Charm, Draco let his eyes trail around the front page before landing on the headline, which screamed out at him in bolded letters: The Boy-Who-Lived a Father
Draco found himself blinking again, and then he slid his steel colored eyes down to the article. The more he read, the angrier he became – so much in fact, that the paper went up into flames as his magic surged out of his control.
A vein pulsed dangerously in his forehead, completely overshadowing the headache that had showed up because of monotonous meeting on business. The blonde man gritted his teeth to get some semblance of control over his raging emotion. When he was considerably calmer, he barked out a name sharply, and with a crack, a house elf appeared at his side.
"Yes, Master Draco, yous is requesting help, sir?"
"Shirley, get my traveling clock, I'm going out."
Shirley bowed lowly, her long nose brushing the carpeted floor.
"Yes, Master Draco, sir. I's be getting that right away, sir."
Shirley bowed once more and then disappeared in another crack and a swirl of a yellow toga. Draco sighed once she was gone and pinched the bridge of his nose. He remained like this until he heard another crack, which signaled Shirley's return. Draco looked over at the house elf and held out his hand for the cloak.
"That will be all."
Once again Shirley nodded and bowed, as she had been taught to do, and then promptly left.
Draco took a deep breath and stood up slowly, draping the cloak over his shoulders as he did so. As he swept out of the room, he looked like a man on a mission, which he was, not that anyone knew.
But one thing was official . . .
Draco hated this week.
Harry whistled to himself as he strolled toward the Sohma compound. For some off reason, he was in a very chipper mood. It might just have something to do with going home, to Europe, for the first time in two months. That thought had Harry stopping for a minute and he thought: Wow, it's been two months.
With an amused smile, Harry shook his head and began to walk again, his hands stuffed casually into his pockets.
That was how he looked when Cho saw him. For a moment she was frozen in shock, because this cheerful man strolling down the street could not be the Harry Potter that she knew, but after another look she realized that it was. She soon found herself grinning also, and she jogged over to catch up to him.
"Hey, Harry, fancy seeing you here."
Harry blinked slowly and turned to look over at her out of the corner of his eye. That one gesture brought Cho up for a moment, and she was suddenly reminded of why she had fallen in love with him when he gave her a slow smile that melted the ice in his emerald eyes.
"Hi, Cho, how have you been?"
"Fine . . . just fine," Cho replied, a little breathlessly. Harry's next smile was quick and cheeky. "So . . . um . . . what's got you in such a good mood," she asked hesitantly, not sure if it was in her right to ask such a question – they hadn't even really gone out and they hadn't ever been friends before that.
"Just decided to go back home for a quick look in is all."
Harry ended the statement with a casual shrug. Cho's step faltered and she had to run to catch up to him. He was whistling again now when she fell into step beside him.
"Wait . . . you're going back? To England? Today," she questioned, and the panicked tone had him stopping to look at her quizzically.
"Yes, why," he asked slowly, burning her with that intense gaze. Cho blushed and looked down at her hands, which she had been twisting together in her nervousness. After a moment she found the courage to look back up at him and she said, "It's not safe?"
One dark brow lifted and he repeated Cho's words, but his voice was thick with sarcasm.
"'It's not safe?' Cho, when had things ever been safe for me? If I went around trying to be safe I'd be trapped in a little house on some random forgotten island and Voldemort would still be at large. So why don't you give me a different excuse than that."
Cho's blush seemed to deepen at Harry's words because she suddenly realized how foolish she sounded. How could she say such words to the Harry Potter? It would be like telling the sun not to shine because it was dark . . . completely pointless.
"I'm sorry Harry, I wasn't thinking," she told him softly. "But things are really bad over there. You're everywhere and there are rumors, lots of rumors."
Harry didn't look the least bit deterred, so Cho tried again.
"Harry, as soon as you step foot in Diagon Alley, the press will be on you like hounds. You've already been missing for a couple of years now, according to them at least."
Cho stopped there even though she wanted to say more, but she could see that he was thinking now, and that was good.
"Alright," he finally conceded with a sigh. "What do you suggest I do, because I promised a few people that I'd go?"
Cho bit her lip now and looked around as if the answer might come flying through the air. After a minute her face lit up.
"Oh! I know! We can disguise you," she told him. "It won't be terribly hard to do and . . . and . . . and maybe I can come with you. You know, for back up, in case something goes wrong," she added the last part quickly, and then fell into timid silence, looking slightly fearful and embarrassed.
Harry almost laughed at the look on the mostly confident girl's face.
"That's a great idea Cho," Harry finally told her, after leaving her hanging for a bit. Cho let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and the fell into step with Harry, who had started walking again.
"So . . . um . . . who are these people?"
"Hmm," Harry hummed, sounding like he had just been pulled from some thought. "Oh, they're just a couple of kids and their guardian."
Cho looked curious but didn't push. She still wasn't sure where her boundaries fell when it concerned Harry.
The rest of the walk was done in silence, and surprisingly, Cho didn't mind too much.
Harry spotted Kisa first, so distinguishable by her vibrantly colored hair. She was standing nervously next to Hiro, his hand clasped in hers, as she looked around. Kureno was nowhere in sight. As Harry approached with Cho at his side, he looked down at his watch.
5:58.
"Potter-san!"
Harry looked up again and saw Kisa waving at him wildly, a wide smile on her cute face. Harry found himself automatically smiling back.
"Hey, you two."
Hiro huffed and crossed his arms but offered no words of greeting, and Harry didn't really expect him to.
"This is one of my schoolmates, Chang, Cho. Cho, this is Sohma, Hiro and Sohma, Kisa."
"It's nice to meet you," Cho greeted them kindly. Kisa smiled back and gave the older girl a slight bow, but Hiro didn't pay her the least bit of attention.
Cho didn't seem to notice. She turned to look at Harry with a questionable look.
"Didn't you say their guardian was coming," she asked innocently.
Hiro reacted to this.
He jerked around and leveled Harry with a heated glare.
"What guardian?"
Harry rolled his eyes and looked down at his watch.
It read 5:59 now.
"Well, I can't just take you two out of the country without supervision, so I invited one of your many cousins along," he told Hiro off-handedly.
"Which cousin? I swear if you dragged that stupid dog —"
"I haven't told Shigure – or anyone in that house for that matter – about what I am, so why would I ask him to tag along?"
Hiro spluttered indigently and an embarrassed blush stole across his cheeks.
"So which cousin is it," Kisa questioned curiously.
Harry looked up from his watch, which was now reading 6:00, and saw Kureno making his way over to them. Kisa followed his gaze and let out a little squeak of surprise. She could honestly count on one hand how many times she had come into contact with Kureno Sohma, and the man never seemed to stray too far from Akito's side.
"Good morning," Kureno greeted stoically, nodding his head at all those present.
"G-good morning, Kureno-san," Kisa chirped nervously, her face a bright red. Her eyes were a little over bright, and she was now gripping Hiro's hand painfully tight, but the boy didn't seem to notice. He himself was looking at Kureno suspiciously, as if the man might have some kind of ulterior motive.
"Well, now that we're all here," Harry started, turning around to face Cho. "We should get going. So . . . how are we going to do this?"
Cho lifted and dropped her shoulders in a shrug and behind her Hiro began to look skeptical.
"Um . . . what were you planning before I tagged along?"
"A Portkey."
Cho frowned at this, looking suddenly like a disapproving parent.
"And were you going to tell anyone about this Portkey," she demanded. Harry had the decency to look sheepish, but he did not offer an answer. And Cho didn't need one.
"Harry, that's illegal! You of all people should know that you can't go around creating Portkeys all willy-nilly. What would you do if you got caught?"
Harry sighed and shrugged her probing questions off.
"Look, that's neither here nor there, so let's just . . ." He waved his arm in a rolling fashion and then turned to look at the three Sohmas who had been watching them in confusion. "Okay, so . . . Portkey is obviously not an option" – he threw Cho a pointed look and she blushed darkly – "so our other choices are: plane – which would take way too long by the way, Floo – which I don't think is possible cause who would we Floo to? And it'll probably do horrors to your balance, and lastly, Tran-Continental Apparition – which is killer to do and highly uncomfortable. Which will it be then?"
This was all said in a chirpy tone as if Harry were asking them what type of ice-cream they wished to eat. The three stared at Harry blankly and Cho coughed from behind him as if she were trying to cover a laugh.
"Am I going to have to choose?" When he got no answer, Harry sighed and held out his arm. "Apparition it is then."
"Wait, isn't that dangerous," Cho finally piped up, and Kisa, who had been about to grab Harry's arm, drew her hand back, looking frightened. Harry turned to look at Cho with an annoyed expression.
'Since when have I ever done something that would likely put someone in danger," he demanded in a soft voice, but there was a lurking firmness behind it that had Cho cringing slightly. She didn't even bother to attempt to answer that question, because, honestly, there were several occasions that she could name for him.
Satisfied that Cho didn't bother to answer, Harry held his arm out once more and told the three Sohmas to grab on and not let go. Then he turned to look at Cho.
"The destination is in front of the Leaky Caldron. See you there."
And then he proceeded to vanish with a sharp crack, like the sound of a backfiring car.
Hiro decided that he did not like Apparition, no matter how fast and easy it was. It was a crude way of transportation and the Wizard that came up with it was clearly a sadistic bastard. The only thing remotely good that came out of that . . . torture was that the whole time Kisa had clung to him like a life-line.
"Is everyone alright," Harry questioned and after Hiro had been sure that his breakfast wouldn't come back up on him he looked up to glare at the man who had the gall to grin at him. Hiro opened his mouth, a scathing reply on his lips but he never got his chance.
"Harry, come here, I need to do this before someone spots you." The girl – Cho something – was quick to gain Harry's attention and she seemed very pleased when she did. It was painfully obvious that she like the other, but Hiro had a feeling that Harry wouldn't like her back anytime soon.
Harry walked leisurely over to Cho and the girl grabbed his face with one hand and raised her wand with the other. A few swishes and muttered words and she then she nodded.
"There, no one should be able to recognize you now."
Hiro was surprised when Harry turned to face them again. Cho had somehow, with magic – he still wasn't used to that – managed to change Harry's features completely.
He now had clear blue eyes with only the slightest hint of green. There were a brush of freckles on his cheeks and his hair was now a nice strawberry blonde. Cho then held out her hand and Harry dropped his glasses in them.
"Okay then, let's get going."
Harry and Cho led them out of the alley and they easily blended in with the crowd.
Hiro looked around him with open curiosity. It was the first time he had been outside of Japan and he wanted to fully enjoy the experience.
London was full of old grey building that looked greyer with the dark clouds looming over the city. People walked everywhere and the streets were filled with cars. It reminded Hiro of Tokyo, except that it was grey and there were no flashing lights.
"Where are we going again," Hiro demanded. Harry looked back at him before speaking.
"The Leaky Cauldron."
Hiro blinked. Was he supposed to know what that was?
"It's that building right there," that Cho girl told him, pointing at something. Hiro looked in that direction, but all he could see was a rundown bar squished between two tall buildings. Hiro noticed that no one else seemed to notice the building; they just walked on by like it didn't exist.
"We're going into that?"
Harry laughed at his question, which only served to annoy Hiro.
"What's so funny? That place looks like a fire hazard. It looks like it'll cave in on us."
"It's supposed to look like that," Cho told him helpfully. "It's a safety measure. We wouldn't want any Muggles finding out about the Wizarding World."
"What are Muggles," Kisa asked. Cho turned back to look at her questioningly and then shot Harry a disapproving look.
"Muggles are non-magic people." When Kisa nodded, Cho turned back around and then started a heated discussion with Harry, who seemed to just shrug her off. The group stopped in front of the bar, which Hiro could now see was called the Leaky Cauldron.
"So, now what," he questioned. "Are we gonna walk through some kind of magical portal into some fairytale land."
"No," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. "Come on."
He opened the door and ushered them all into the dingy building. The inside was just as bad as the outside. Hardly anyone was in the bar, except for a man standing behind the bar counter, cleaning glasses with a slightly dirty rag.
"Welcome," the man called out. "What can I do you for?"
"Nothing now, Tom," Cho called back warmly. "I'm just leading some foreigners into Diagon Alley. They've never been, you know."
Tom, as Cho had called him, nodded his head and gave them a smile, which made Hiro realize that he was missing some teeth. Hiro rolled his eyes and followed Harry and Cho through a door in the back of the room. It opened into a very small alleyway.
Hiro stared blankly at the brick wall before him, before a sudden thought crossed his mind.
"Hey, wait a second." Cho and Harry turned to look inquiringly at him. "How was I able to understand what that guy was saying?"
"Well, magic of course," was Harry's reply. "I put a charm on all of you before we left."
Hiro blinked. He didn't remember Harry doing any magic before they left.
Harry turned back around to study the brick wall. Then he pulled out his wand and tapped at a seemingly random brick. Hiro, Kisa, and Kureno watched in fascination as the brick wall suddenly started moving, separating down the middle to reveal a large archway.
"Welcome, guys, to Diagon Alley," Harry said cheerfully with a cheeky grin.
Hiro was sure that his jaw had fallen somewhere on the ground before him. If he hadn't believed in magic before he certainly believed in it now.
Diagon Alley was teaming with life. There were shops all around, witches and wizards moved about in brightly colored robes, owls hooted, things whistled and whizzed. And towering over it all was a large, white building.
"Come on."
Harry's voice jarred Hiro out of his stupor and without really thinking about it, the teen followed the wizard out into the crowd, still looking around in wonder.
"We'll have to stop at Gringotts first."
"Gringotts," Kureno asked curiously and Hiro looked over to see that this was not the same stoic man that followed Akito like some lost puppy. Hiro couldn't recall a time in which he had ever seen the man show any type of emotion. He had to admit, this was a welcomed change.
"Gringotts is the Wizarding bank," Harry was explaining, pointing at the large white building. "It's where we keep our gold."
"Gold? You use gold to buy stuff," Kisa asked, her voice full of wonder. Harry nodded, that cheerful grin still plastered on his face.
The group quickly made their way toward Gringotts. Hiro stared, wide-eyed, at the two wizard guards standing outside of the building. And then the large doors were opening and they found themselves standing in a small entrance room. There were another set of doors and above it was a golden scroll with a warning written on it.
"Enter, stranger, but take heed of what awaits the sin of greed. For those who take, but do not earn, must pay most dearly in their turn. So if you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours, thief, you have been warned, beware, of finding more than treasure there."Kureno recited and then asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's a warning. Basically, you aren't supposed to steal from Gringotts."
As Cho said this she shot Harry an amused look.
"Yeah, no one's ever broken into Gringotts and gotten out alive," Harry added, but Hiro had a feeling that the man was lying because he would not look anyone in the eye. "But enough of that." And with that said, Harry pushed open the door that would lead them into the bank. Hiro started forward but stopped immediately in the doorway, causing Kisa to bump into him.
"Hiro, what's wrong," Kisa questioned before following his gaze and then she let out a little squeak of surprise. All around there were these ugly little green creatures. They looked rather vicious, with sharp nails and pointed teeth.
"What are those," Kisa whispered as Harry and Cho lead them toward one of the high counters.
"Goblins," Harry informed them. "You never want to cross one and you certainly don't want to make a deal with them." Harry's tone turned scorching toward the end and he scowled up at the goblin before him.
"Hello, Griphook," he greeted in an icy tone. The goblin looked over at Harry, surprise on ugly his face.
"Ah . . . can I help you, sir?"
"I want to get access to my vault," Harry told him, getting straight to business. He placed a key on the counter and after a brief study the goblin looked up at Harry with fear filled eyes.
"Ah, yes, Mr. P-potter. It's been a while."
"Whatever. My vault," Harry said in a flat voice. Griphook visibly swallowed and nodded his head like an eager dog ready to please its master.
"O-oh, yes, right away sir."
He then stepped away from the counter and Harry turned to follow him.
"I'll be right back," he told the three Sohmas, adding a grin, and then he disappeared through a couple of doors at the very end of the hall.
Harry returned twenty minutes later with a bag of coins.
"Alright, now that we have some money, we can shop."
"What exactly are we going to buy, Harry-nii," Kisa asked, falling into step beside him.
"Well, you three need wands. Can't do magic without a wand. And then we need to head for Flourish and Blotts, for books. After that, well we'll look around and see, okay?"
Kisa nodded and a large smile worked its way across her face, and Hiro thought she had never looked more beautiful.
Harry thought everything was going perfectly.
After getting the three Sohmas a wand – with no questions from Olivander – he had lost Cho at the Quidditch store.
At the moment he was at Flourish and Blotts, roaming randomly through the twisting isles. Kureno was looking at the curse section and Kisa and Hiro were in the school section.
It was as Harry was passing the front of the shop that he saw it.
There, sitting innocently in a wire basket, was a Daily Prophet from a few days ago. The headline seemed to scream out at him: The Boy-Who-Lived a Father
Harry's hands clenched reflectively when he saw the face of the Healer who had been assigned to his case a couple of years ago. The woman was grinning cheerfully up at the camera, not an ounce of shame on her face from violating the patient confidentiality she had sworn to uphold when Harry had gone to her.
Harry just about lost it right there, but then he remembered that he was there with three people who were just introduced to magic.
Taking deep calming breaths, Harry went to search them out, hoping to end this trip as soon as possible.
He suddenly needed to be alone.
It was a completely normal morning – Tohru was out visiting her Granddad and she had taken Harry along with her. The three remaining guys – Yuki, Kyo, and Shigure – were sitting at the table having a late breakfast when it happened.
The doors to the kitchen were thrown open with a flourish and Ayame burst into the room, looking distinctly ruffled and lugging a large stack of old English newspapers.
"Gure," he cried, looking at said man then around the room with frantic yellow eyes.
"Ayame?"
Shigure put down the newspaper he had been reading and took in his cousin's sudden appearance all the while wondering if he had forgotten to lock the doors again.
"Oh, you absolutely have to see this," Ayame continued on in a rush. "I'm afraid it can't wait! But first . . . where are young Harrison and the lovely Tohru today?"
"They went out," Shigure told him numbly, sharing a quick glance with his two younger cousins over Ayame's odd behavior. Ayame nodded then strolled over to the table and dropped the stack of newspapers onto it before launching into a verbose tale.
"Now, I knew when I saw him that something had struck me as familiar. You remember how I said that, don't you Gure? And what I found! . . . It's a wonder you don't have reporters knocking down your front door! If anyone knew he was here —" All this was said in a rush until Ayame cut himself off to shake his head. "Of course, I couldn't believe it. Well, the proof is in the writing I suppose. But it is still unbelievable! To think that he could be —"
"Hold on, Ayame," Shigure cut in and Ayame promptly shut his mouth, looking a little put-out at being cutoff. "Now, why don't you calm down and start from the beginning."
Ayame did as he was told before sitting down next to Yuki. He then took once deep, calming breath.
"Calm?"
Ayame nodded and Shigure smiled encouragingly at him.
"Okay. Now, what is this all about?"
"Harrison Potter, of course," Ayame announced as if it were obvious. He then went on to explain. "After we had that little talk the other day, I couldn't get the rid of the nagging feeling that I knew him from somewhere. Therefore, I did some research. I got some of my colleagues in Britain or England or whichever and had them do a little digging on the boy. And this is what they sent me." He then waved his arm out over the yellowing newspapers before him.
"All this," Kyo asked skeptically, pulling at one of the articles, "on one guy? What the hell is he?"
"Well, Kyokichi," Ayame said condescendingly, causing Kyo to bristle like an irritated cat. "What young Harrison is exactly is not something I know, but it is a bit obvious that he is a celebrity of sorts, and a rather important one at that."
"Really? What did he do," Yuki asked. Ayame brightened up like he normally did whenever Yuki paid him the least bit of attention, and he turned to face his little brother.
"It was quiet the achievement actually," he told his brother. "I happened to be there when it happened. As I said before, he had seemed quite familiar."
"Okay," Yuki said slowly, his eye twitching in annoyance. He repeated his question slowly, as if he were explaining something complicated to a three-year-old. "But what did he do?"
"Why, he helped deal with that raging lunatic that happened to be devastating the country's crime rate!"
There was a pause as the three Sohmas stared at their silver-haired family member. Finally, Kyo asked the question on all of their minds: "What?"
Ayame sighed and shook his head before leaning forward.
"Okay, do you remember when that well-known Japanese representative went abroad?" He looked between the two high schoolers until they both nodded. "Well, he went to meet the Pope and the Prime Minister about some strange going-ons happening over there." Ayame then waved his hand carelessly as he said: "Bridges collapsing, very public murders, strange fogs and gas explosions and such.
"Anyways, when he got there, the Prime Minister had managed to sort everything out. Or so the public believed until the man held a nationwide meeting to announce the real Savior of England or wherever."
Ayame then picked up one of the older newspapers and dropped it into the middle of the table for all to see.
"This is from then."
The three Sohmas leaned in so that they could get a good look at the article.
The picture held a group of people, all looking proud and important. The Pope – distinguished by his white robes and the gold cross on his chest – was standing in the middle of the picture, at the forefront of the attention. At his side was a man they assumed to be the Prime Minister. He had his arm around a young teen's shoulder, grinning like a proud father, and the teen was shaking hands with a Japanese man. It took the three a moment to recognize Harry as the teen, looking gangly and slightly ruffled standing with the group of officials. There was a bolded headline at the top of the picture reading (In English of course): Youth of Today Helps Save the Day
The article went on to explain how a young boy, no older than seventeen, helped catch a criminal mastermind that had been avoiding all police officials for two-to-three years. The criminal, although caught, was said to be dead – how he died they did not know. Further on in the article it mentioned that the criminal had killed a great number of people, including Harry's parents and his surrogate godfathers.
"Holy —"
Whatever explicit Kyo was about to colorfully exclaim was cut off when Ayame shot him an impatient look, clearly saying he wasn't done.
"This," Ayame said, dragging out the word as he pulled out another bundle of newspapers. "Showed up a few weeks after that, once again, a front pager."
The newspaper was dropped on top of the first one. They didn't need to lean in to see it. The picture and the words were large enough for them to easily read the foreign words: Young Savior Has Tea with the Queen
Harry was seen sitting at a small round table, nearly elbow to elbow with a regal looking woman. She was dressed imperiously and Harry looked rather shabby sitting beside her in an overlarge T-shirt and baggy jeans that were clearly old. But the woman was smiling and chatting with Harry easily and Harry didn't look the least bit intimidated by her presence as people would assume. There were three other people with them – excluding the security – that looked just as well managed as the Queen herself.
Before any of the three had time to comment, Ayame place another newspaper before them.
"This was a few days after that."
It was a candid shot of Harry walking casually down some street – caught mid-laugh. He was once again surrounded by people – five this time. They all looked around Harry's age and one of the girls, a girl with vibrant red hair, was latched rather possessively onto his arm. Above the picture was a question: Who Is This Boy?
"And then this."
A group of older men ranging from the ages of forty to sixty took up the majority of the photo this time. Harry was sitting in the midst of them, looking very much out of place. The headline this time read: Savior Meets with Ambassadors
Ayame continued to reveal newspaper after newspaper in which Harry was featured meeting with several important people and some of him going about his daily life. Kyo, Yuki, and Shigure were shocked by the amount of times that the one teen was mentioned, but the odd thing was that not once did they mention his name in the headline. He was always 'The Savior'.
They had gone through more than half the stack when Ayame suddenly stopped pulling out articles.
"Is that all," Shigure asked, eyeing the six or seven newspapers left. Ayame shook his head and made a tsk sound that had Shigure smiling a little, despite the seriousness of the situation.
"No, no, of course not."
Ayame then paused to take an unnecessary breath. Kyo's eye twitched in annoyance, but before he could act on the impulse to strangle his older cousin, Ayame began speaking again.
"These just happen to be the end of the . . . good news."
"What," Yuki asked for all three of them.
"Yes, yes," Ayame said with a nod of his head. "All that stuff was good and all, but then the media got their claws into a juicy bit of news. Look, see."
Yuki gritted his teeth in annoyance when Ayame simply waved the next newspaper in the air. His patience, which wasn't a lot whenever his older brother came around, seemed to be coming to an end.
"Nii-san . . ." Ayame blinked and then seemed to realize what he was doing. He then cleared his throat and dropped the newspaper down for them to see.
As expect, a large photo of Harry took up the majority of the page. He looked as old as he did now, but his appearance was still shaggy at best. The picture was of him just exiting a rather large house. He looked wide-eyes and was caught in the action of fixing his shirt as he fled from the building. The headline helped explain the situation a bit: Savior and a Secret Lover?
A quick scan of the article gave way to a little bit more information. It went on to say that the Savior was caught leaving the home of a single man in the early morning. Supposedly, Harry was caught the night before leaving the bar with the man, who was a rumored play-boy.
"What does this —," Yuki started to ask, but Ayame shook his head.
"This is just the catalyst," he told his little brother.
"Catalyst," Shigure echoed and Ayame nodded.
"Yes, this article made way for these." Ayame waved his hand over the remaining few newspapers before picking one up to show them.
This one didn't show Harry at all.
The page was filled with an enlarged picture of an important looking business man. He sat with a straight back and look stoically into the camera. He had long, white-blonde hair that was pulled into a ponytail and tied off with a black ribbon. His face was sharp looking and his silver eyes seemed to hold no emotion. The man's name was printed at the top in bolded letters: Draco Malfoy: Ex-Death Eater
"What's a Death Eater," Kyo questioned when he caught the title.
"That's what that madman called all of his followers," was Ayame's short reply. Yuki waited, thinking his brother would say more – Ayame was known for his long-winded answers – but when he didn't Yuki asked a question instead.
"So, what does this guy have to do with Potter-san?"
"Well," Ayame said, dragging the word out. "He has just about everything to do with Harrison." Yuki rolled his eyes at the very vague answer. "Anyway,' Ayame continued before anyone else had a chance to comment. "After this came out, Harrison just disappeared."
"Be he's here," Kyo told his cousin.
"Well, yes, he is, but they don't know that."
"So, Harry is hiding from them here," Shigure questioned. Ayame shrugged. "Well, what are the others about?"
"Just speculation," was Ayame's answer. "After Harrison was caught leaving the house of a former Death Eater, many people began to wonder what he was scheming. The fact that they can't find him doesn't help his situation either. In fact, many people believe that he may be trying to fill in the shoes of the madman he helped capture."
The room was silent after that as the Sohma men absorbed this information.
"So . . . what do we do now," Kyo asked, breaking the silence. He looked around the table at his two older cousins.
Shigure sighed deeply and leaned back against the wall before saying, "We're going to have to confront him about it."
Harry looked around at the group in the room.
Shigure sat toward the shoji doors that led out to the yard, Ayame next to him and Hatori a few feet away. Haru was perched comfortably on the couch near the kitchen. And Yuki was sitting on the single chair by the entrance. On the floor near the TV, Kyo sat cross-legged. All of them were staring at him, some with the air of an unmet expectation and others with a wary expression. Harry didn't know what any of this was about, but there was a rather large stack of newspapers on the table.
"I have a feeling there's gonna be a lot of heavy talking today," he mused out loud. No one spoke and so he took that as an affirmative to his thought. Feeling rather grim, Harry leaned over and pulled out a large bottle of Butterbeer he had just gotten as a gift from Cho – that and a bottle of Firewhiskey.
"What's that," Shigure asked, eyeing the bottle warily.
"This," Harry said, waving the bottle a little so that the liquid splashed around inside, "is a bottle of Butterbeer. I just got it off of a friend."
Shigure blinked and shared a loaded look with Hatori and Ayame.
"Beer," Hatori intoned, looking at Harry with a disappointed expression. Harry waved it off and rolled his eyes.
"Don't get your knickers in a bunch. If we're talking about something heavy we might as well loosen up, besides, back at home this is the stuff they sell to the minors." Here he waved his hand at all of the teens in the room, and then he leaned over once more and pulled out the other bottle. He lifted it up and swirled the amber liquid around before saying, "Now this is for adults."
"Then why do you have it," Kyo questioned with a scowl. This time Harry was the one who blinked and then he looked around at all of the Sohma men surrounding him.
"Wait . . . you guys don't know?" he asked into the silence. Ayame leaned forward in his seat and asked, "Know what?"
Harry shifted then.
"That I'm already legal."
They all gave him blank looks and so he continued.
"I'm about to turn twenty-three this July. I already have certification." There was a long moment of shocked silence in which all of the Sohmas stared at Harry with wide eyes. They really should have already known that; the articles spanned over six years and had started when he was about seventeen.
Then Harry sighed and the moment was broken as he said, "It's because I'm small." And then he sighed again, poured himself some Firewhiskey – into a glass none of them had noticed before – and then downed it like it was water.
The glass clinked loudly when he placed it on the table.
"Alright, what's this about?"
"Well . . . um . . ." Shigure looked around at his two friends, not sure how to start.
"We don't really know much about you, and so Ayame did a little digging," Hatori sort of blurted out. Harry blinked and looked around to see that the others looked a little bit more relaxed now that this piece of news was out.
"Okay," he drawled out slowly.
"But, we came around some . . . questionable news," Shigure inputted. Harry blinked again and then looked over at the stack of newspapers sitting innocently on the table.
"Right, and let me guess. This news came from the newspapers there?"
"Well, yes," Ayame answered, looking unnaturally serious.
Harry nodded and then leaned back in his seat. He raised his hand and massaged his temple, where he could feel a headache starting. He really didn't need this right now, not with everything else he was dealing with, which was a lot since he had learned that Rita Skeeter had somehow gotten information about his visit to St. Mungo's a few years ago.
"Look, I don't know what you found out or read, but there's a very good chance that your information is wrong. So if we're —"
"So you're not involved with a man named Draco Malfoy," Ayame asked, sounding unrealistically innocent.
Harry flinched violently and his face grew hard.
"No, as a matter of fact, I'm not." His tone was as hard as diamond. "Now, I believe we are finished here." And taking his bottle of Firewhiskey, Harry left the room.
"Well, that didn't go as planned," Shigure said long after Harry was gone.
The bottle of Butterbeer sat on the table like a beacon for what had just transpired.
Tohru found Harry holed up in his room.
It hadn't taken her long to find out what had happened earlier that day. Ayame had been so ridden with guilt that he had just blurted it out – with all the normal dramatic flair – and then he had driven away in the car with Hatori. Tohru had to admit, at first she had simply stared after them in confusion, not sure what to make of the scene, but then his words made sense to her.
"I'm ashamed to say that we have pushed poor Harrison over the edge! The poor boy is all locked up in his room. I've never been more ashamed of myself. What was I thinking, questioning a broken soul like that? And to let my innocent little brother join in! I have failed in my job as a respectable man!"
Of course, most of what he had said hadn't made much sense, but Tohru would never have the heart to tell the man that. Ayame was simply special and tended to over exaggerate. With a sigh, Tohru shook the thought from her head and focused on her cousin, her cousin that she now knew was so much older than her.
"Harrison," she called out to him timidly. He was lying on his back on the futon in the corner, an arm slung across his eyes and a dark bottle in his hand. Tohru could just barely make out the grimace on his face in the darkness of the room.
"Harrison, would you like to talk?"
Harry sighed deeply, sounding way too old, before motioning for Tohru to come in. She did, closing the door behind her so that the room was completely engulfed in darkness. Slowly, Tohru made her way over and sat down near Harry's feet.
"I don't like to talk about the past. I barely like to think about it, it's not exactly pleasant," Harry told her in a gruff tone.
The room was silent as Tohru thought over his words. What did that mean? What could possibly be painful enough to make someone dislike the past?
"I was going to tell you, I just forgot."
Tohru jumped in shock at the sudden sound but then she heard what Harry had said and she frowned.
"Tell me what?"
"That I was turning twenty-three soon."
"Oh," Tohru said softly, not sure what else to say. She heard a clink and assumed Harry has put the bottle down and then she felt his arms around her. They were rather hard for someone that looked so soft, but Tohru was coming to find that there were a lot of things about Harry that didn't quite fit with his appearance.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into her shoulder when he rested his head there. Tohru squeezed the arm he had wrapped around her shoulder.
"You have nothing to apologize for."
It was silent again and Tohru could feel Harry shaking. She turned around to hug him more properly, drawing his head to her chest, and it was only then that she realized he was crying.
This boy – no man – was crying into her chest, quiet, silent tears and it was so sad to witness it. Harry always seemed so composed and serious. Tohru was reminded of the day they had all gone to the amusement park and how Harry had seemed just like a child.
"Why'd they have to die, Tohru? Why them," Harry whispered softly, his voice filled with the tears he shed. Tohru was confusion as to who he was talking about and, as if he could read her mind, Harry clarified. "My mum and dad . . . Aunty Kyoko . . . why did they have to die?"
Tears prickled in Tohru's eyes now. She had once asked herself that same question and she still hadn't come across an answer, but she knew now that she needed one for him. Harry – who at this moment had reverted to a very much venerable state – needed to hear some kind of answer.
"They died because it was their time to go, but they're still kind of here. They're with us every day, watching over us and making sure we live life to its fullest – live life for them." She was rocking now, Harry cradled against her. Harry sniffled and lifted one hand to whip his nose on his sleeve.
"I've been doing a crappy job of that," he muttered, his voice thick.
"And that's okay. When they left they also made room for us to make mistakes."
Harry sniffled again and then gave a little laugh.
"Look at me. I'm supposed to be the older cousin."
Tohru hummed a little and she wasn't sure where the words came from, but they were suddenly sliding easily past her lips.
"That's okay, because sometimes you've got to stop acting like an adult and be a child."
Harry laughed again and then made himself more comfortable, tightening his arms around Tohru's small frame.
"Tohru?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
Tohru smiled and continued to rock Harry, feeling happier than she had in a while.
Harry was humming again as he walked through the deserted halls of his school. He was seriously wondering what had come over him when he had sat down to take the entrance exam. It wasn't like he needed to go to school – he was old and smart enough to live on his own.
"Harrison!"
Tohru's voice suddenly reminded him of why he decided to go back to school, and with a grin in place he looked up to greet his younger cousin. The grin, however, vanished when he saw her expression and the annoyed look Yuki was giving Haru.
"Tohru, what's wrong?"
The girl blinked a little bit, but her slightly panicked expression did not vanish. She shot Haru a look and then turned to look at Harry.
"It's nothing. Haru was just teasing you Honda-san."
Yuki looked reproachfully at Haru but he simply shrugged.
"Um . . . what," Harry asked, thoroughly confused.
"It was nothing," Yuki told him again. "Haru has just been looking for Momiji, have you seen him today?"
Harry blinked and tried to remember back to the last time he had talked to Momiji, and he was drawing a blank. Everything in the last few weeks had all been a blur, which was understandable when he remembered what he had found out in his trip to Diagon Alley three weeks ago. Besides a few passing glimpses of the boy in school, Harry could honestly say that he hadn't seen the boy, but then again, Harry had been skipping school a lot.
Now that he thought about it, Momiji had been a little distant lately, especially since his growth spurt kicked in.
"Huh, actually, I haven't seen him in a while. Not since my visit to Akito," Harry muttered absently. "Why? Is something wrong with him?"
Yuki shook his head but Haru answered.
"He's just a bit . . ." Harry blinked and waited for Haru to finish but the teen never did. Now Harry could understand why Tohru had panicked, Haru was very . . . vague.
"Um . . . okay. Well . . . if I see him I'll let you know."
Haru nodded slowly and Harry walked away from the three. It wasn't long before he saw Momiji a bit away, up the hallway, talking to Kyo. Harry made his way to approach them when their conversation fell on his ears.
"Did . . . something happen . . . to you," Kyo asked slowly and Harry couldn't see his expression from here but he sounded very . . . odd. Momiji didn't answer at first and for a moment Harry didn't think he would. But then he turned to face Kyo and gave the cat a very much forced smile.
"My curse was released . . ." Harry started as did Kyo but Momiji wasn't done talking. "Would . . . it surprise you if I told you that?"
"Huh," was Kyo's response and he sounded a little bit angry, but Harry could tell Momiji was lying. He hadn't noticed at first, but now that Momiji had brought it up Harry could tell there was something off about him. The air around him still shimmered with the magic Harry came to associate with the Sohmas, but there was something missing in it.
"If you were released . . . she'd be really happy. But . . . you know? I'm the one . . . being crushed." Harry didn't want to hear anymore. The conversation was quickly treading into personal waters and so he turned to walk away. But it appeared that Momiji was finished already and he was suddenly standing next to Harry, looking at him curiously.
"Hey, Harry. I didn't see you there."
Harry blinked and leaned back a little to look up at Momiji. He hadn't noticed before due to the fact that they had been standing so far away, but Momiji had grown considerably taller over the last few weeks. He now stood on par with Kyo.
"Um . . . hey," was the unintelligent reply that left Harry's lips. "Uh . . . wow."
Momiji tilted his head to the side, his gaze questioning.
"Sorry. It's just I haven't seen you in a while. . . . You've . . . gotten taller."
At this Momiji laughed hollowly and rubbed the back of his head.
"Yeah, pretty much. So . . . what's up?"
Harry shrugged and turned to walk away and Momiji fell into step beside him.
"Nothing. I was actually coming to look for you." At Momiji's next questioning look, Harry elaborated. "Haru's been looking for you."
"Oh," Momiji intoned softly and when Harry glanced over it was to see Momiji looking a bit guilty and also . . . pitying?
"Yeah. He said something about something being different. You know anything about that?"
Harry continued to study Momiji and so he saw when an oddly gleeful look crossed his face, but the taller teen did not answer and so Harry pushed on.
". . . You weren't joking back there, were you? – and don't look at me like that, you know what I'm talking about."
Momiji heaved a heavy sigh before nodding slightly.
"Yes, I wasn't." He then turned to look Harry in the eyes, his own unnaturally serious. "My curse was released. Just yesterday."
Harry hummed thoughtfully and nodded. That would certainly explain the aura around Momiji. Now that Harry was concentrating on it fully, he could tell that it was completely grapefruits. Not a hint of orange squash.
"You don't look very surprised," Momiji noted and to that Harry shrugged casually.
"Yeah, well there's not much that can ever surprise me now."
There were very few times when Hermione Granger ever felt lost, and this was one of those times. She had been feeling lost for a few days now – actually, if she was being completely honest with herself, she would say that she had been feeling lost for a few years now.
It was here, in her home with Ron, that she had first gotten the news.
She had been sitting in this exact chair, curled up with a book with the fire roaring in front of her. The room had been filled with its cozy warmth and the red walls flicked with shadows. Everything had been organized, the carpet clean, the papers stacked neatly on the desk, and the books placed on the shelves. Everything had seemed so normal, and then she had opened the Prophet – why she still read it even she didn't know – and the headline had jumped out at her: Savior Missing
And just like that a part of her had disappeared.
It was so weird, because she hadn't seen Harry in months before she had gotten the news, not since the second anniversary. And Harry had been rather distant before that, Ginny's presence had made sure of that.
Yes, Harry had played his part well, but Hermione had seen the way he had reacted toward Ginny's advances, seen the way he had tried to subtly swat her away.
And then there had been that horrible argument following the anniversary. Tempers had been raised, accusations had been thrown, and things had been said that had torn things into tiny pieces.
Ron hadn't been too happy with the names that Harry had called Ginny, but then, he hadn't been too happy about the way Ginny had reacted either.
And then Harry was gone before things could be patched up.
It had been shocking to find out, months later, that he had seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.
But that had been years ago, three to be exact, and Harry still hadn't been spotted.
And now there was this.
Hermione glanced distastefully at the newspaper that had been sitting on the ottoman since the day it had come out weeks ago. She hadn't thrown it out yet and she had been reading it over and over again, hoping to find some truth in it. It could all be rubbish, but, despite how much it irked her to admit it, Hermione knew all of Rita Skeeter's articles had at least a thread of truth.
So was Harry really a father like the article claimed? Hermione didn't know and she had no way to find out.
With a sigh, Hermione set the cup of tea she had in her hand down on the coffee table beside her. The liquid had long since gone cold and warming charms only went so far, so she'd have to wait to get some fresh tea latter. Now, she had more important things to do.
Leaning forward, Hermione picked the newspaper up and smoothed it out. The headline shimmered and the picture of a grinning Healer looked up at her.
Healer Hagen.
She was supposedly the woman in charge of all of Harry's cases and, so far, Harry had only one case. Hermione remembered all of the words from the article.
Healer Hagen had boastfully said that Harry had come to her in absolute distress one night and who was she to turn down the Savior of the Wizarding World?
Hermione snorted at the thought and shook her head.
The woman was obviously no better than Rita herself and if what she claimed was in the least bit true . . . well Hermione was surprised that the chit had kept her mouth closed for three years. Of course, she probably waited until she was absolutely sure Harry wouldn't find out and come after her before she spread the happy news.
Hermione snorted again and it was then that she noticed she had company.
Ronald Weasley had stood in the door to the library for five full minutes watching his fiancé chew thoughtfully on her bottom lip. He could tell from the crease between her brow and the way she was constantly throwing calculating looks at the Prophet that Hermione was thinking about Harry.
Ron had found Hermione like this many times since the paper came out.
"Hey," Hermione called out softly when she finally noticed him.
Ron smiled and pushed off from the doorframe, walking over to her.
"Hey," he said back, pulling Hermione up out of her seat and into his arms. He rubbed warm circles into her back and only when she was relaxed did he ask his question.
"Worrying about Harry again?"
Hermione sighed and rested her head against Ron's shoulder.
"Yeah."
It was quiet for a moment before Hermione asked something that had been bothering her for a long while.
"Do you think any of its true?"
Ron mulled the answer over for a while before nodding.
"Some of it, but not all that other bull about Harry trying to take over the reins from Voldemort," he told her. Hermione snorted at that.
"I don't even know where they came up with that one."
"Yeah, well Skeeter's always finding some way to twist the truth around. Look what she did to Dumbledore, and the man was dead, not missing."
Hermione nodded in agreement, a foul taste coming into her mouth at the thought of Skeeter and her horrible autobiography of Dumbledore.
"I wish I could just get at her one more time."
Ron chuckled and rubbed at her arms, letting his hands flutter down to hers where he threaded their fingers together.
"Well enough about Skeeter and her idiotic ways," he muttered, lowering his head to rest against her. He smiled and marveled over the way that he could still make Hermione blush as read as a tomato. "It's really late and I was wondering if —"
Ron was cut off by the long chime of their doorbell. Hermione leaned back in his arms and peered around him, like she could somehow see through the walls to the door on the other side of the house. Then she looked up at him curiously.
"Are you expecting anyone?"
Ron frowned, looking confused.
"No. Are you?"
Hermione shook her head and then looked down at her golden wristwatch.
"It's nearly midnight."
"Who the bloody hell is calling at this hour?"
Hermione sighed, threw Ron a reproachful look for his language and then twisted out of his arms. Ron followed her to the door, still muttering curses under his breath about the ungodly hour and poorly timed interruptions.
Hermione rolled her eyes, pulled open the door, and nearly fainted.
"Where the bloody hell is he," Draco Malfoy demanded, practically spitting fire as he stood there on their porch. Hermione blinked, at a loss for words, and after a moment of shock, Ron glared over at the blonde.
"What the bloody hell Malfoy?"
The blonde aristocrat wasn't fazed. He pushed past the two and strolled into the house as if he owned it, looking this way and that.
"I don't have time for your stupidity, Weasel; just tell me where he is so I can leave."
Ron sputtered indigenously, opening and closing his mouth. He seemed to collect himself after a moment, looking angry, however, Hermione was quick to intervene before Ron could say something harmful.
"Who, exactly, are you looking for, Malfoy?"
Malfoy growled uncharacteristically.
"Scarhead, of course. Who else would I come looking for at this ungodly hour? So, if you could just tell me where he is . . ." Hermione drew in a deep breath as if preparing herself for a battle before letting it out in a whoosh.
"We don't know where Harry is. We haven't seen nor heard from him in three years."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed as they traveled between the two ex-Gryffindors suspiciously, as if he were trying to see if they were telling him the truth or not. Then he blinked and his hostile expression relaxed into a mask of indifference.
"I see," he said calmly, fixing his robes as if there was something wrong with them. "Well then, I'm sorry for disturbing your night. I'll just be on my way."
And then he turned and walked right back out the still open door. Ron and Hermione stared after him in shocked confusion.
"Well," Ron finally said. "That was weird."
Hermione simply nodded her head in agreement.
There we go for all you wonderful Draco fans. He has officially entered the story and he's a man on a mission. We can only hope that he soon accomplishes it, because I'm sure all of you are just itching for some Harry/Draco action.
So you know the drill. Review and I may be tempted to give you what you want!