Author's Note: Oof! Summer is HOT! Anyway, make way for my usual pre-chapter rant please…

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything; everything belongs to She-Who-Can-Be-Named i.e. Ms J K Rowling. But this confounded keyboard and these unbelievably slow fingers are mine, I suppose…

-Chapter Ten-

Danger, like a shadow, is lurking behind you.

Keep our eyes open lest it strikes upon anew.

The Lost Locket

Draco Malfoy was sitting in the kitchen at Twelve Grimauld Place. His hands lay limply on the kitchen table as he stared with vacant eyes at the clock on the mantelpiece. He had been there for an hour now. Time moved slowly at the ancient mansion. He slowly cast his eyes downward. There was a burnt patch on the table, something hot had once fallen there, probably soup. There were several empty butterbeer and fire-whisky bottles, and remnants of melted candles. A fleeting vision of happy feasting passed before his eyes before the old trapped feeling engulfed him again. He had run from one prison to another. There was no way out, no escape. There was a sudden sound behind him, making him jump.

"Wotcher Draco!" A woman with green hair greeted him.

"Oh it's you," he stammered in a startled voice, "I thought …"

"No one's going to come after you here Draco, stop worrying. Here, mamma sent some cookies for you."

"Aunt is kind."

"Don't mention it. Anyway, Mcgonagall wanted me to ask you… KINGSELEY!"

Kingseley Shacklebolt tumbled out of the fireplace and stood up, briskly shaking off he dust from his muggle. He nodded briefly at Draco and turned to Tonks.

" I need to talk to you." He said in a low urgent voice.

Draco's heart sank. He had known this was coming. He would be interrogated, by the Order, then by the aurors of the ministry as well perhaps. What did youexpect? He said angrily to himself,after all he was from the enemy camp!

Shacklebolt finished his talk and vanished through the fireplace again. Tonks stared at the fire for a moment and then turned to Draco. "Where was I?" she asked him absent-mindedly.

"You wanted to ask me something." Draco murmured slowly.

"Wotcher! Was I?" she thought for a second and remembered. "Right, Mcgonagall wanted to know if you are alright at this place." She vaguely indicated the dark kitchen walls and the dirty floor tiles with her hand. Draco couldn't believe his ears! It was not going to be an interrogation!But he still had to answer. Was he okay at the old house?He nodded slightly, without uttering the lie. No, he was not okay, how could he be? He was worried to death about his mother. What was she doing? How was she? How was the Dark Lord treating her?

" You are perhaps worried about your mamma?" asked Tonks with a shrewd but kind look on her face. Draco started. He didn't like people to know his thoughts.

"Its okay to be worried Draco, " Tonks said softly, " but we have heard that Mrs. Malfoy has also gone into hiding since your escapade that night. So she is out of You-Know-Who's harm's reach."

Draco arranged his face into what he hoped was a delighted and relieved expression, but he knew the Dark Lord better than Tonks, or indeed, with Dumbledore gone, better than the entire Order. Dumbledore! He could not simply avoid thinking about him. His name darted through his mind during the most unexpected moments. That trusting fool! Standing an inch away from death and preaching about not calling people mudbloods!

"You must be lonely here." His cousin's voice shook him out his reverie.

"Yes I supp…what? Lonely? Me? No… not at all. I…" he was stammering madly. Why couldn't he pay more attention to what he was saying?

" That's alright Draco, we know its normal for you to feel lonely (oh hell!) so we thought we could maybe someone could stay here with you."

"Who?" he asked blankly. His throat has suddenly become dry.

"Oh he was your classmate, Neville Longbottom."

This time, Draco Malfoy really was relieved. They were not spying on him after all. Nobody in his or her right minds would appoint Longbottom as a spy. He couldn't help but marveling at the trust put on him by the Order. He was after all responsible for Dumbledore's death. "These people are insane." And looking up at Nymphadora, he smiled, the first real, sincere and truly happy smile he had smiled for a year.

-XXX-

Far away, an army of experienced cold-blooded assassins was advancing three surprised teenagers. Hermione was the first to recover from the shock.

" Let's get away from here." She whispered urgently. "Harry, Ron, come on." She grasped Ron's wrist.

A few deatheaters were laughing. Harry recognized one of the voices. He tipped the folder into Ron's arms and made for his wand. "You two run for it. I will.."

"HARRY NO!" Hermione now grabbed his wrist, leaving Ron's. She could not use both arms because of the bag containing the potions. A green and a red jet of light narrowly missed them as they all ducked. More laughter, and that sickening voice. Harry's blood was boiling.

"Look, you two go. I will get Snape and…" He felt an arm grabbing him, recognized the familiar jerk around the naval and the whirl of colours and sounds confirmed what he already knew. He was apparating.

-XXX-

Draco Malfoy was sitting alone again. Tonks was gone. She had to "attend to an important job" that Kingseley had mentioned. Draco vaguely wished she had remained. Weird and half-blood though she was, she infused a strange liveliness around her. Or maybe he felt it was strange. He had never known a sibling or a close cousin. He bit into another of those cookies. Where was that old elf of the house? He was feeling thirsty. After looking around hopefully he decided he had to get his own drink. Damn! He had never done anything in his life. He looked around at the shelves for a bottle of wine but they only seemed to contain dusty utensils. His eye fell on the cupboard and he opened it. Inside was a large boiler and below it, the strangest assortment of filthy rags and glittering gold and silver objects. Could there be some wine somewhere here? He began taking out the stuff when he heard a very loud crack. He whipped around to find himself face to face with Potter, Weasley and Granger. "You? Here?" blurted out, almost without thinking. Potter raised an eye-brow.

"This is my house." He said coolly. The nerve of him, Draco thought. His mother was a Black! It was Potter who was the outsider.

"What are you looking for?" Weasley asked sharply, as he straightened up clutching an old cloth folder from which parchments seemed to fall out.

"Is there a drink in your house?" Draco asked Potter, ignoring him. Potter muttered 'accio' and a few bottles came flying through the door. Draco could see the labels of butterbeer and firewhisky and mead among them. "Suit yourself."

Weasley walked over to the cupboard and swore loudly. "…that old pest.." Draco saw him stooping down to put the things back, picking something shiny and staring at it. Well, he supposed the Weasleys rarely saw gold. Smirking slightly, he turned away to find Potter and Granger observing him. There was a strained silence and then, without saying anything, they walked out slowly. At the door Potter stopped, and looked in at his friend. Weasley, who was still kneeling on the floor noticed it, hastily shoved the things inside and followed them out.

Malfoy was alone again and he sat, slowly seeping his whisky, as he felt the old fear coursing through his veins like alcohol. He needed news of his mother.

-XXX-

"Why did you grab me?" Harry rounded on Ron. Ron didn't reply, he was looking strangely overcome by something but Hermione sprang to his defence.

"He was absolutely right to do so Harry, he saved all our lives. We were outnumbered, there was no way you could have got Snape in that company and Voldemort was there and you can't do anything to him till we find the horcruxes, That's our prime goal Harry, the horcruxes."

Harry was calmed, and nettled too. The darned horcruxes. He dropped into a chair in the drawing-room of Grimauld Place.

"R.A.B! Those initials are driving me mad." He said in a frustrated voice. He reached into his pocket and brought out the letter he had already read a thousand times.

"To the Dark Lord," He read aloud, "well, only deatheaters call him that."

"But this person obviously changed sides or he wouldn't steal the horcrux. Now which deatheater did that, I can't think of anyone I mean there was Snape and it turned out that he was a spy and…Harry? Are you alright?"

Harry was staring at the Black family tree with an arrested expression on his face. How could he miss him? The name should have jumped out at him the moment he had seen the initials on the letter, the man who was killed on Voldemort's orders because he had wanted to quit the deatheaters-Regulus Black!

"It was Sirius' brother," he said in a low voice, feeling tremendously excited, "Regulus took it, and see(he pointed at the moth-eaten tapestry), his middle name was Alphard. Now we have to find out where he hid the locket."

"Harry, Hermione,I found something in that cupboard." Ron spoke finally, and hesitated, "do you think, can this be..?"and he stretched out his palm for them to see.

Even from a distance, Harry recognized it, it was Slytherin's locket.

Chapter 11: The British Society of Veroudostoffy