Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the plot bunnies causing mayhem inside my brain. On a note: English isn't my first language, so if you notice any grammar mistakes or typos feel free to tell me in the comments, since I don't have a beta and that forces me to have to check everything by myself.

Have fun!

The Advance Guard

Looking around it was hard for the pink-haired auror to stop her nose from twitching in a disagreeable manner at all the identical houses, well-kept lawns and the lack of anything even close to originality. If she were Potter, she would also be itching to get out of this place, no wonder the kiddos have been talking about the letters asking for more information, almost begging for someone to come and take them somewhere else, anywhere else. Until they stopped.

The letters, she means.

They stopped and no one knows the reason. Hedwig came one day, delivering the last letter and simply refused to leave after that, and even more concerning: Dumbledore's spy, Arabella Figg had not seen Potter for almost three weeks and only now they got that information!

So it should've come as no surprise that they formed what Moody called "The Advance Guard", comprised of every poor sod that decided to come and investigate Potter's whereabouts and confirm if Arabella was right and the kid is missing. If not, they are to bring the kid to the HQ, for safety reasons. After all, it was better to keep an eye on Potter, especially after some sights of Dementors roaming close to Surrey.

"This place is kind of... Lame.", she couldn't help but to comment.

"And boring.", Emmeline agreed.

"Yeah. And boring," she was nodding to herself, "No wonder Potter doesn't like here."

"We aren't here to sightsee.", Moody grumbled in reply to their commentary on the neighbourhood, the only other sound coming from the man was the wooden leg hitting the pavement at each step. He saw one of Arabella's cats and knew the woman wouldn't be that far, probably keeping an eye on things to report back to Dumbledore.

During the night even the colour of the houses seemed the same, and Tonks would have missed the number 4 weren't for Remus stopping and taking on a deep breath before his eyes narrowed. They all know about his... Furry little problem, as Sirius liked to call it. So he must have smelled something that got him slightly on edge on number 4, and their worries were back with a vengeance. Did something happen to Potter? Death Eaters, maybe? The Dursleys were fine, after all, she was the one who set them up for the night, making sure they wouldn't be at the house just in case someone was after Potter and things got out of hand, it was also important because well... They can't tell others what they know nothing about.

"Remus?", Shacklebolt's voice was low, barely higher than a whisper when he asked what they all were wondering.

"Someone else is the house," he said through gritted teeth, "and whoever it is, they smell of darkness. Like Sirius's place, but much worse."

... Shit.

"Do you think they are a threat?", Hestia was the second to utter their shared concerns, not that it was hard to guess what was going through their minds right now.

"Only one way to find out.", Tonk's voice was laced with fake cheer, trying to fool herself into a sense of calmness. Not that her next action helped when she simply walked to the front door and pressed the doorbell, she could almost hear the others cringing even when the sound wasn't all that loud. So yes, not her smartest moment, but she never said she was a Ravenclaw or any good at planning ahead, she was more of the 'go-with-the-flow' type anyway.

The rest of the Advance Guard rushed to where she stood when the door was opened, ready to defend themselves if needed, but the person standing there threw them all for a loop. The man was tall, taller than Sirius even, or maybe that was because he stood with perfect posture while her cousin couldn't care less if he tried. He was also very handsome with raven black hair and skin so pale that she couldn't imagine him going out under the sun, however, his eyes made her feel unease, they were red. Not brown or amber, but a dark red, like pools of blood reflecting light and staring into her soul and finding something amusing in there.

"How can I help you?", his voice was silky, the pronunciation of the words making Tonks recall all the times her mother was forced to interact with other purebloods or her Aunt Narcissa for whatever reason.

Moody was the one to take charge of the situation seeing as none of the others were in shape to put their words together to form a sentence in a way that made sense.

"We are here for Potter.", his eye, the one that inspired his moniker as Mad-Eye roamed over the form of the stranger that opened the door, by the scowl on his face, Tonks would bet her wand that he failed to see anything that could give him any hints about the identity of the man dressed as a butler, and that thought scared her to her core. From the start of her auror training, she could always trust Moody's eye to see everything that was going on, to get them the information they needed, to not get caught by surprise.

"I see," he said with a pleasant smile that didn't reach his red eyes, "Why don't you follow me inside, we wouldn't want the neighbours to bear witness to any talks happening this late at night."

He stepped aside from the door letting their group enter the house before guiding them to the living room. Tonks didn't waste her time pretending to not gawk at the muggle household, it was so different from her own. Yes, her father is a muggle-born, but their house isn't anything like this, it was all clean, not that her parents' place is messy or anything, what she means is that this place looks like someone's objective in life is to never see even a speck of dust floating in the air. Not even the fireplace was real... Or should she say it was very modern? Now she understands what Arthur was talking about when mentioning the incident with the Floo when getting Potter to go with them to the Quidditch World Cup.

"Why does this place smell like what you would expect from a crime scene that has been cleaned to perfection?", she asked the ones around her, not really expecting an answer, just making sure they would be thinking along the same lines as herself. This house gives her the creeps.

"That would be because bleach seems to be the only thing in this world that Petunia Dursley loves as much as her pig of a son."

The reply made all the eyes in the room turn to the stairs leading to the first floor. The one standing there was Potter... Right?