Harry hummed to himself as he limped down the dark London street. It was hazy out, and the moisture surrounded him, swirling in the light breeze that swept the area.

His bare feet made no noise as he walked, and his broken arm was held tightly to his side to prevent it swinging around. He pushed his unruly dirty hair away from his eyes, the missing glasses not even registering to him anymore.

A cat shot out from under a car ahead of him, and he jumped slightly. Recognizing the lack of danger, he grinned sheepishly and muttered to himself.

"A cat. Just a cat. Well done, Potter, twelve years and you're still jumping at the little stuff."

His eyes fell on a familiar sight, and his grin widened.

"Now if only the brooms would last longer than a single hour," He grumbled. "I wouldn't have to walk half the night to get here…"

He turned towards the small building, tucked between two shops that had closed for the night. Lights still showed through its windows; the Leaky Cauldron was rarely ever closed. He closed his eyes momentarily as he stepped through the closed door, then blinked them open again, waiting for them to adjust to the light.

There were a few men huddled in the far corner of the bar, talking quietly. Another man sat at the bar, hunched slightly over his drink. The night crowd.

"How's it, Tom? Got some of that new ale in?"

The old man wiping down the counter ignored him. Harry turned away and stepped over to the man at the bar and leaned in close. He could tell the man was almost asleep, his eyelids hanging low over his eyes, which were the color of weak tea.

Harry leaned until his mouth was next to the man's ear, then spoke, loudly and clearly.

"Hey, Riley, didn't you have something to get in Diagon Alley? You should get it now."

The man jumped ever so slightly, then glanced around, blinking owlishly at his surroundings. Harry stepped back as the man yawned and stretched, then reached into a pocket in his robes to remove his money pouch.

"I'm off, Tom. Got to finish what I came in for."

Tom bustled over and accepted the coins from the man.

"Alright, Stephen. Have a good night."

"Yeah, you as well. G'night."

Stephen turned and headed towards the back of the pub, Harry following dutifully behind him. As he stepped out the door and headed towards the brick wall hiding the Alley, Harry patted him on the back.

"Thanks, mate. Sorry to take you away from your drink like that, but I need to restock, you know. Maybe someone's birthday is coming up."

The man seemed not to notice him, and pulled out his wand to tap the brick. As soon as the wall started separating, Harry thanked the man once more before walking through him and into the alley.

Glancing around at the various shops, Harry made his way deeper into the alley.

~*~*~*~*~

The man writhed on the ground, screaming in agony.

All around the dark hall, men stood silently, watching through the eye slits in their masks.

"Everything was safe, was it?" Hissed a voice that sent shivers down the assembled groups spines. "The rebels taken care of?"

There was no other sound, save the echoing screams from the figure on the floor. They were growing hoarse, but Lord Voldemort showed no signs of releasing the man.

"If everything was safe, I would not have lost fifty-four men. For that, you will suffer the consequences."

Red eyes gazed impassively around the room, landing on each individual figure before moving to the next.

"I suggest you all heed this warning. I will not tolerate failures like this again. If you wish to make a report to me, you had better be sure of its truth. Do you understand?"

The response was simultaneous. "Yes, my Lord."

"Now, I suggest you all go back to your posts and work to discover the rebel scum that caused the explosion!"

As one, the assembled Death Eaters turned and left the hall with carefully measured steps.

Alone with the still screaming Death Eater on the floor, Vodemort turned crimson eyes back to his little game.