Hermione Granger focused in closely on a particular article in the day's prophet just as sleepy Remus Lupin and shirtless Sirius Black sauntered into the kitchen, all askew from sleeping.
"Anything interesting in the prophet, Hermione?" Remus asked, sitting down and taking one of Molly Weasley's muffins from a plate at the centre of the table.
"Are you kidding me, Remus?" Sirius asked as he pulled a carton of pumpkin juice from the fridge and began drinking it straight. He rolled his eyes at a glare from Hermione and turned to retrieve a glass from the cupboard. "There's never anything of interest in the prophet. It's all the same. Death, Death Eaters, and, ironically, the boy who lived."
Hermione shrugged. "There actually is an article in here about how Harry won't talk to the press. But there is something that could slightly be of interest, actually."
"Oh?" Remus asked, peeling back the paper cup surrounding his muffin.
Hermione nodded and set the paper down on the table, where Draco Malfoy's frightened face stared up at them. "Apparently, Draco Malfoy ran away from home recently."
"Really?" Ron asked as he entered the kitchen, taking the carton of pumpkin juice from the counter, next to where Sirius was standing. He grabbed a glass and poured some juice before turning around. "I hope he gets lost and then mauled by unicorns."
Hermione laughed shortly and raised her eyebrows. "Since when have unicorns been known to maul people?"
Ron set his already-empty glass back on the counter. "If I were a unicorn, I'd maul Malfoy."
"You'd make a beautiful unicorn, Ron," Harry said as he entered the kitchen. "Anyways, why are we talking about unicorns mauling Malfoy?"
"According to the prophet, Draco ran away from home three days ago," Hermione replied.
"And he hasn't been found yet?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. "I didn't think he was smart enough to not get caught."
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. But apparently, the Malfoys put up a big reward for whoever can turn him in."
"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed. "That's kind of like how Harry, Hermione, Remus and I all have rewards for being turned in!"
Hermione laughed. "Kind of, Sirius."
When Voldemort was killed four months before, even though everyone expected the war to simply end, it didn't. It continued pushing on, lead by none other than the Malfoy's and the Lestrange's. If possible, they were worse than Voldemort, with Bellatrix's sadistic, evil, rash actions and the Malfoy's ones of control, of precise decision making. They were practically unstoppable, but the small Order still continued their fight, staying strong.
The Death Eaters had once again infiltrated the ministry, but with Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister of Magic, the havoc that should have been caused was almost under control. Still, a reward would be given to anyone who could turn in anyone seen as a threat to the Death Eaters: AKA, Harry Potter, for obvious reasons, Sirius Black, because Bellatrix wanted him dead, Remus Lupin, because he was the president of the Order, and Hermione Granger, because her talents they wished to use for their own benefit, and because she was co-president of the Order. Because of this, these four people were well protected by the other Order members. But it didn't mean they stayed out of the way of danger. In fact, they practically invited it.
Ron sighed. "I still don't see why I'm not a threat to the Death Eaters. I destroyed a Horcrux!"
"But Ron, you want to be a unicorn," Harry said, causing everyone in the room to laugh and Ron to turn bright red.
"Whatever, Harry," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I'm going to go get dressed. When are Tonks and Ginny going to be back from that mission?"
"Not until Wednesday night," Hermione replied, flipping through the prophet some more, trying to find anything that might indicate some good news.
Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was lying in his patch of bushes, bored to death. He'd only been gone three days, but all he had to do was stare at the sky or people watch, which most definitely got boring after a while. He didn't want to leave, though, for a handful of reasons. The first reason was he didn't want to be found by any Death Eaters, or even recognised by anyone on the street. According to a few pedestrians who passed by him, his parents had set up a reward for whomever could turn him in.
The second reason was that he was hiding out right in front of the ministry. Even while he now considered himself neutral, and maybe even more on their side than anything, they still most definitely counted him as an enemy. He didn't want any trouble, but he didn't know what he was planning on doing. He really couldn't stay hidden in this bush the rest of his life-it was only Monday and he was starving to death. He'd spent all of his money on the first night. Maybe his parents had only given him enough money for a night because they knew he might eventually try to run away?
He sighed and adjusted his position so he could look at a different patch of clouds for a change. Of course, he could just wait for them to inch across the sky just a bit more, but he was too impatient. Time was going far too slow for his liking. He just wanted it to be night so he could quickly sneak out, find some food, and sneak back. He couldn't quite remember any spells for food, and a quick accio might cause some suspicions.
So he waited. And waited. And waited.
Finally, darkness fell, and he waited until no one had come from the mysterious-appearing house before darting out of the bushes under a disillusionment charm. He made it to the market and was able to stuff his shirt with food in record time.
Sadly, it wasn't fast enough, and his charm was wearing off with every step in his running that he took.
And to make matters worse, he recognised the voice of the men following him.
He knew they were following him, because they matched his footsteps perfectly. He sped, they sped. He slowed, they slowed. He took off running at a crazy pace he could have sworn he'd never reached before, they did the exact same thing, only faster.
As soon as the first hex ripped past his ear, all of Draco's stolen food dropped to the pavement and he ran, using his arms to propel himself forward by pumping them back and forth, taking long, energy-draining strides, hoping he could make it somewhere safe before they caught up.
It was then he realised he had no where safe. And he wasn't even running in the direction of his park, which wasn't entirely safe in the first place.
Oh, Merlin, what was he going to do?
He squinted his eyes shut as a few spells whizzed past him, and tried to find that courage he knew he had somewhere. Had he wasted it all on the actual act of running away?
No. Continuing to run was cowardly. He would fight.
So he raised his wand and slashed it backwards. His spell struck home, as he soon heard the sound of horrible gagging, and then the slap of skin against pavement.
He grinned. One down, five to go.
...
He was losing. He was losing and he knew it.
Losing the fight, losing his dignity, losing his courage, and most of all, losing blood. He needed to get out of there. He'd just escaped, and he wanted to leave.
But he barely had the energy to carry on the fight, let alone find a way to escape. But there had to be a way-!
Draco grunted as he fell to his knees clutching his stomach, watching the blood seep through his robes. He couldn't do this anymore. He could barely raise his wand to defend himself.
And then it came. All in one, powerful, brilliant flash, it came. The energy, the courage, the strength.
Crack!
The next thing he knew, he was on the front step of the mysterious house, his vision going blurry, watching as the door opened and the shocked face of his enemy peered down at him, mouth agape.