Lost and Found

Title: Lost and Found 1/?

Author: Dorotea

"Where is the Life we have lost in living?
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?

Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?"

T.S. Eliot

Chapter 1

The two young men on Privet drive were failing miserably trying to blend in with their surroundings. This was just not the sort of neighbourhood where young men skulked about after midnight. That they were wearing cloaks (one dark green with silver lining, one black with red lining) and holding broomsticks just made them all the more out of place. Luckily for the young men this was also just not the sort of neighbourhood where people stayed up after midnight peering out of their houses.

The fair, slender boy tilted his head, studying the ordinary suburban house before him. He shook his head slightly in disbelief. "You're right, Potter. It is horrid."

The dark-haired boy wearing black wire glasses smirked slightly. "And you doubted me."

The blonde boy had always been shorter than Harry Potter until their last year at Hogwarts. During the last year, Draco Malfoy experienced quite a growth spurt. This had brought him to the same height as Potter, but Malfoy held himself so straight he appeared to be the taller of the two. "Your taste is....questionable, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. "Yes, that is apparent by your presence next to me, Malfoy."

Malfoy bent over, holding his stomach and fake laughing. "Oh, you Gryffindors are just so witty."

Potter smiled at Malfoy. "And brave. Don't forget brave."

Malfoy straightened and looked Harry in the eyes. "Cunning and ambition are more useful."

Potter arched a brow and moved closer to Malfoy. "Depends on your goals, doesn't it?"

"Our goals aren't at cross-purposes any longer, Potter. You save the world and I'll rule it."

Harry shook his head at Malfoy, feeling as he often did with Malfoy -- not quite sure if he was jesting or not. "Then I would just have to save it from you."

"You can be such a bore, Potter. How do you know I wouldn't be a good evil dictator?" Malfoy asked with a smirk.

"A good evil dictator?" Harry started, his voice rising, "You do realize that makes --"

Malfoy interrupted Harry by holding up his hand and stating, "And serious."

"What?"

"You're a bore and you're too serious."

"I'm passionate," Harry said lifting his chin.

Draco made a face of disgust. "Save it for your girlfriend, Potter."

"She's not my girlfriend."

Malfoy's lips curled up. "Who isn't your girlfriend?" He teased. "Hermione?"

"Right," said Potter. "Not. My. Girlfriend. Why does everyone think we're a couple?"

"You live with her?"

"You live with us too. No one thinks we're sleeping together."

"I'm in hiding. No one knows I am living with you, except for a select few Ministry officials and Hermione. And she probably does think we're sleeping together."

Harry frowned. "Why would she think that?"

"For the same reason you think I'm sleeping with your girlfriend."

"What? I do not have a girlfriend! Hang on -- are you talking about Hermione? I don't think you're sleeping with Hermione."

"Well, then we don't have any problems, do we?" Malfoy answered smoothly as he fussed with the ornate silver clasp on his deep black cloak.

"You're not sleeping with Hermione, right?" Harry asked.

"If she's not your girlfriend, it doesn't matter, does it?"

"Well, technically, no, but I, um, er," Harry stuttered. "Well, I know you're not. Hermione would never and you would never and --," Harry stopped as he realized Malfoy was snickering into his black leather gloved hand. "And you just love to wind me up and watch me spin, right?"

Still snickering, Malfoy answered, "You make it so easy, Potter."

"I hate you, Malfoy."

"Heroes aren't allowed to hate."

Potter snorted. "Too late," he whispered under his breath.

Malfoy started to say something, then stopped and took one last look back at the house. "They probably buy their clothes off the rack."

Potter smiled. "So do I."

Malfoy made a slight face and then looked back at the house. He pulled out his wand, "We could redecorate a bit for them."

Harry stared at the house that had held so much misery for him for a long moment and then shook his head. "No, we can't."

"I could."

Harry looked quizzically at Malfoy. "For me?"

Malfoy looked abashed. "No, Potter. I may be working with you...temporarily... but I will never be a member of the Harry Potter fanclub. I'd do it just to tease the Muggles."

Harry frowned. "You decided not become a Death Eater. Remember?"

"I decided I didn't want to torture and kill Muggles, not that I would never have a bit of fun with them. Why shouldn't I tease Muggles who are so deserving of a bit of torment?"

"You work for the Ministry of Magic? As an Auror?"

"There is that, I suppose," Malfoy drawled in a bored tone. "But just turning the perfectly trimmed hedges purple --"

"No."

"Yes, well, then we should get back."

Harry nodded and mounted his broomstick and was in the air within a moment.

Malfoy mounted his broomstick, but before taking to the air he turned back to the Dursley house. "Prunectus Draconis," he said as he flicked his wand toward the very neat hedges. He smiled and nodded at his handiwork and took off into the night air after Harry.

The bellow that Mr. Dursley let out the next morning when he saw the hedges as he was leaving for work would have gotten the neighbours' attention -- if the purple dragon shaped hedges growing at alarming rate hadn't already alerted them that something was not quite right at the Dursley house.

~*~

Narcissa Malfoy was a beautiful woman -- in a cool, sleek fashion. She was standing in front of a large paned window overlooking a garden of stone creatures that would give almost anyone nightmares. Narcissa Malfoy never had nightmares. She did not turn her gaze from the window as her husband, Lucius, entered the Library.

Lucius walked to his wife and kissed her cool cheek. Narcissa did not return the greeting. "News?" She asked coolly.

"No, but I am on my way to meet someone who may have information about Draco's whereabouts."

Narcissa nodded slightly. "Who would dare to cross us? Who would dare to steal our son from us?"

Lucius took a deep breath, knowing the answers to these questions, but most certainly not sharing the knowledge with his wife. His hand absently caressed the serpent head on his cane. "We will find them and invent new spells to torture them with."

Narcissa's lips curled up slightly. "Yes," she said. "But above all else, I want Draco back." She spoke of him not as a mother would of her child, but as a favourite bauble that was missing from a display case, her voice never showing any emotion.

Lucius lifted the cane and caressed his wife's cheek with it softly. "Trust me," he said.

Narcissa turned her gaze toward her husband for the first time since he had entered the room. "Bring him back, Lucius," she said. Then she turned and walked from the room without a further glance or word to her husband.

Lucius watched his wife's figure retreat, tapping his cane on the floor as he turned to gaze out of the window. "I will bring him back...even if I have to bring him back in chains."

~*~

Hermione paced the floor of the flat as she read from a battered book. "Banishment? To another world?" She muttered to herself as she walked and read.

The sound of a clatter on the roof of the flat distracted her from her book. Her lips pursed tightly together she waited for the two young men to enter the living room. The door into the living room from the stairwell opened and Harry and Draco walked in.

"Honey, we're home," Draco said to the glowering Hermione.

Hermione arched a brow at Draco and gave both the men a disapproving look.

"I think your not-girlfriend is angry," Draco whispered to Harry.

Harry frowned at Draco and said to Hermione, "We were, um, flying. Er, I mean, investigating the latest disappearance."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Next time you want to go play with Draco all night, leave a note. Or remember to use the mobile! I was getting ready to owl the Ministry! Muggles are disappearing, Draco is in *hiding*, Voldemort could be anywhere, Death Eaters are *everywhere* and --"

Draco interrupted Hermione's rant. "Harry and I were not out *playing* together. He is not my type."

Hermione turned angrily toward Draco, brandishing the musty book in his face. "This is not a JOKE, Malfoy. All our lives and the lives of every wizard in Britain are at stake!"

Draco's grey eyes darkened, but before he could respond, Harry put himself between Draco and Hermione.

"You're right, Hermione. I should've left a note. I didn't think we would be gone so long. And I, um, lost my mobile."

"Again?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded.

Hermione arched a brow and turned toward Draco who had slunk off to the kitchen and was pouring a glass of wine. "Draco?" She asked.

"What?" Draco said casually, not meeting her gaze.

"I find it rather hard to believe that Harry has lost 6 mobiles on his own and yet he can catch a small golden snitch so easily."

Draco took a long sip of wine and replied, "Well, he's out of practice, isn't he? Getting a bit careless in his twenties apparently."

Hermione's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Draco, what have you done with them?"

"Why would Draco take my mobile?" Harry asked as he went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Butterbeer.

"He doesn't like Muggle things. Remember what he did to the telly?" Hermione asked.

Refilling his wine glass, Draco countered, "That was a bloody awful contraption. The inanity of the programs was more than any sane person could cope with. And I think it makes a very nice gargoyle," Draco said, nodding toward the large stone gargoyle on a rickety TV stand.

"What did you turn Harry's mobiles into?" Hermione asked, taking the bottle of wine from Draco and pouring herself a glass.

"If I had turned them into something, and I'm not saying that I did, it would've been something loud and annoying and I would've thrown them out of the flat. Because I must say Muggles invent the most annoying gadgets. Moreover, they're rude. Those contraptions are truly for people without class. Ringing and interrupting conversations. Ringing, ringing and ringing. What civilized person stands in a room with other people and speaks into a piece of plastic? Eh?"

Hermione sighed heavily and finished off her glass of wine. "I'm off to bed. I have some ideas to discuss with the two of you in the morning," she glanced at the clock. "I mean after we've slept a bit. If you're hungry, there is a bit of dinner left in the fridge."

Draco opened the fridge and eyed a very lumpy casserole of...well; he was not quite certain what might be in it. Hermione may be brilliant, but she could barely boil water for tea.

"Night, Hermione," Harry said as Hermione gathered up a few books and started toward her bedroom.

"Bloody hell, I wish we had at least one house Elf," Draco said, rummaging around for something edible.

Harry urgently shook his head at Draco.

"What did you say?" Hermione asked testily.

Draco closed the fridge door, catching Harry's warning look. "I think if you want to know where Harry's mobiles are you should look at that lumpy casserole in the fridge."

"Hrumph." Hermione snorted as she turned and walked into her bedroom.

"That was a close one, Draco."

Draco pulled a package of crackers from the pantry. "I can't believe it's come to this."

Harry smiled consolingly at Draco. "Welcome to the real world, Malfoy."

"Malfoy Manor was the real world," Draco said quietly.

"Do you want to go back?" Harry asked cautiously.

Draco looked Harry in the eye. "Yes," he said matter-of-factly, "And I will. Someday it will be mine. Just because I don't want to be a Death Eater, doesn't mean I'm going to give up what is rightfully mine."

Harry nodded. "I understand."

"Do you?" Draco asked in a doubtful, sneering tone.

"Yes," Harry said, turning his back on Draco and walking slowly out of the kitchen. "But what was rightfully mine is forever gone."

Draco put down a half-eaten cracker and took another sip of wine. "Damn," he muttered. This was going to be so much harder than he had anticipated.