Rating:
PG-13
House:
Schnoogle
Genres:
Angst Action
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 09/27/2001
Updated: 03/14/2002
Words: 96,682
Chapters: 10
Hits: 44,753

Coming Of Age

Frances Potter

Story Summary:
After finally defeating Voldemort, Harry Potter can take no more. He leaves the wizarding world for good. But three years later the Dark Lord has a 21st birthday present for the Boy Who Lived. Just what Draco has to do with that present is anyone's guess. An Animagus, Ron and Hermione living together and the least likely person to be an Auror are all there to help, but just what role does Dudley Dursley play in all this!

Chapter 09

Posted:
01/20/2002
Hits:
2,996

Coming of Age

Chapter Nine -- Happy Birthday, Hermione

Are you cut up
Or do you easily forget
Are you still around
Why haven't you managed to die yet
You could prop up the bar in hell
Needless to say
I guess you know I hate you
You're so full of sin
Even the devil rates you

-- Robbie Williams - Karma Killer

Wednesday 19th September 2001

He stood across the street from the Leaky Cauldron, leaning against a brick wall, watching as people came and went through the inconspicuous door. The hood of his bottle green travel cloak was pulled down over his face, casting his features into shadow, and he deliberately kept his head downcast. At his feet, the small backpack had been pushed against the wall to make sure no one could snatch it. He'd nearly lost his few possessions twice, so far.

It was strange how in all his previous visits to Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron entrance, Draco had never noticed the sign over the door before. The words 'Leaky Cauldron' only appeared when a Wizarding person was near the building. Otherwise, it was just a dark, paint-peeled sign creaking occasionally as a lorry sped passed. Draco had passed the time watching the sign and trying to guess who was magical and who was Muggle. He finally came to the conclusion that Muggles just couldn't see the sign.

Someone stopped in front of him, and Draco automatically looked up. The man's eyes raked up and down and he smirked. "How much?"

Grey eyes glared. "Go away."

"Come on, kid. I'm doing you a favour." He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, fingering the edge of the cloak. "I like your clothes. Something different, nice touch."

Draco frowned, then his eyes widened as the meaning of the man's words became clear. For a moment he just stared, then his eyes narrowed into a dangerous angry look. "If you don't go away, I will break your legs."

The man shrugged and continued down the street. A hundred yards on, he stopped to talk to a young man, and this time he was lucky. The pair walked off.

Draco sighed and closed his eyes for a moment as he tried to remind himself why he was in this current situation. Standing on a street corner in London, with no money, only the clothes he stood up in, hungry (make that starving!) and exhausted from two nights of sleeping rough. Running away had seemed to be a great idea at the time, but now he wished for nothing more than his exquisitely soft bed at the manor.

"Here you go, mate."

Draco was just about to tell the person where to go when something was thrust into his hands. He looked down at the small cardboard container emblazoned with a large golden double arch, and realised that it contained food. He looked at the person, who had not stopped, and then down at the carton of fries. Despite the fries being only lukewarm, nothing could have tasted better and he quickly devoured the lot.

If his father could see him now -- being propositioned, begging on the streets. But then, it wasn't his father, was it?

Draco licked the salt from his fingers, tossed the empty carton into a nearby bin, and returned to waiting for Hedwig.

The owl might have gotten him off the Malfoy estate and helped him take the Knight Bus to London, but she'd flown off to wherever owls go during the day, leaving him stranded in the middle of the Muggle city with nothing but his bag and Potter's wand. She had told him to lay low until today when she would meet him here at Diagon Alley. The only problem was she was already more than two hours late.

Draco shook his head in wonderment. Trust Potter to have an owl that was an Animagus.

Of course, it was Potter he needed to see. An improbable state of affairs, granted. Under normal circumstances, Draco would have gone out of his way to avoid the ex-Gryffindor. But circumstances were far from 'normal'. It was just a shame the owl seemed to be going out of her way to be as unhelpful as possible. He'd asked her to take him to wherever Potter now lived, but she had just looked at him with those weird golden eyes and flown off.

He had thought about trying to find Potter on his own, but Draco had no idea where Harry lived since he dropped out of circulation. There had been rumours at the time that Potter was either dead or gone mad, but he now knew that Potter was very much alive, and the person who had joined him on the cloud, his illusionary safe place, had not been insane. He remembered that the Gryffindor had once lived with relatives somewhere in Surrey, but Draco had never had a reason to memorise the address. So with no way of finding him on his own, Draco had no choice but to follow Hedwig's instructions and meet her here at Diagon Alley.

Diagon Alley wasn't really that safe for him. He was from a prominent family and his face was known, especially since his father (Voldemort, he reminded himself) had been made Minister of Magic. Anyone might recognise him, and he'd find himself back at Malfoy Manor quicker than he could catch a Snitch.

He let out a long even breath. Was he really worried about being recognised? The owl seemed to think he was in danger, but just how quickly would Voldemort mobilise his people to find him? And would the general population really care if they did recognise him?

Of course, he did have Harry's wand. The owl had told him not to use it unless it was a catastrophic emergency because its magic could be tracked. What constituted 'catastrophic' had rapidly changed in his mind since the owl had first warned him.

He ran his right hand over his left forearm. Underneath the material of his shirt, he could feel the outline of the wand in its special holster. Of his own design, the holster protected the wand and kept it out of sight, but a flick of the wrist would bring it down into his outstretched hand in seconds. Much quicker than the standard carriers most witches and wizards used.

Did he trust the owl enough to believe that she was telling him the truth? She might have helped him escape from the Dark Lord, but she'd been part of Harry's life for ten years. It would be to him that her loyalty lay, not to Draco, and he was sure she would use him just as much as his own father had in the past.

Now, that was a new idea to him -- the fact that he could admit to himself that Lucius had used him. He knew that Hedwig had done something to him, messed with his mind in some way, but what? His mind felt ... clearer ... less cluttered than it used to. He felt as though the tight control he had kept on himself had disappeared. Replaced by what? He wasn't sure yet, but it seemed to let him see things in his life in a different light. As though Hedwig had opened previously locked and bolted floodgates.

But why leave him with the wand? She could have easily taken it away from him, he was sure of that. To entrust him with a wand must mean that she expected him to use it if the situation warranted it. And why should he do what she wanted anyway? How long was he prepared to wait out here on the Muggle street when his own world was just feet away? Why not just march into Diagon Alley and ask if anyone knew Harry Potter's current address?

Yet in the back of his mind, her words that magic from the wand could be traced did disturb him more than a little.

Surely the constant magical energy in and around Diagon Alley would shield any use of Harry's wand from prying eyes. And once through the portal and into Diagon Alley, what then? His immediate thoughts of being able to get information were quickly forgotten as the image that came into his mind was of Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour. The thought of one of Florean's pastries made his mouth water, and the fries donated earlier had almost been forgotten.

"Well, here goes nothing," he whispered to himself and reached down for his bag.

As he straightened, he became aware that there were now people standing on either side of him. It was the same manoeuvre tried earlier when his bag was nearly stolen. Gripping on the bag straps, Draco deliberately kept his gaze forward and stepped away from the wall.

On each side, a hand gripped his arms, dragging him back. One of his elbows cracked against the bricks, and he clenched his teeth to stop a cry of pain.

"Well, what have we got here, George?" A hand reached up and pulled at Draco's hood. It fell back to his shoulders.

"Why, it's a Malfoy, Fred. Fancy meeting the Prince of Darkness here, of all places."

Draco glanced to either side. He couldn't fail to recognise that to his left was a Weasley, and on his right was that Weasley's twin.

"You'd better put that hood up again, Malfoy. We wouldn't want anyone recognising you. It wouldn't do our reputations any good at all." Fred let go of the arm that had connected with the wall, and watched as the hood was tugged awkwardly back into place.

"So, who's been a naughty boy then?" George somehow materialised a copy of the Daily Prophet and shoved it at Draco, scrunching it against his chest. "Been using Unforgivable curses without daddy's permission?"

Frowning, Draco took the paper and quickly scanned the front page. What little colour there had been in his face drained completely.

Under the headline Minister's wife in Unforgivable Curse attack were two photographs, the first of Lucius and Narcissa, and the second, smaller one, a rather unflattering photo of Draco. The article read:

Last Monday, Narcissa Malfoy, wife of the Minister of Magic and benefactor Lucius Malfoy, was found unconscious at the family home. She had been attacked several times with the Cruciatus Curse and was left for dead. Marcus Flint, Senior Auror, reported: "A wand belonging to the couple's son, Draco, was found at the scene. Tests using the Priori Incantatem spell have shown that this is the wand used to perform this heinous attack on his mother. We have so far been unable to locate Draco Malfoy, but it is believed that he might have suffered a breakdown. Anyone sighting him should contact us immediately. He is considered dangerous and should not be approached."

Minster Malfoy was too distressed to talk, but his office has issued a statement confirming that his son has not been well for some time. He urged his son to return home. A spokes wizard for St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries said that Mrs Malfoy is responding well to treatment.

He had to read it a second time before looking at the twins. "I didn't do this." His eyes were huge with shock as he gestured with the newspaper. "I wasn't even there."

"We know, Hedwig told us." George whispered close to his ear.

"You know about the owl?"

"Of course." Hedwig had arrived at the twin's joke shop and had explained about Draco's escape and the newspaper article. She had asked the twins to get him off the streets before Marcus Flint found him. George still found the truth of Hedwig's true identity both weird and wonderful. He remembered with fondness both the first time he had seen her transform and also the realisation that the owl who had shared Harry's life was actually a beautiful woman. It still made him shiver every time he saw her change.

Fred was equally as close on Draco's other side. "But as for you cursing your mother, who would have believed that an unregistered Animagus and a group of subversives were trying to overthrow the whole Wizarding administration? Isn't that what you called us in an article a few months ago?"

"Not exactly. It was taken out of context." Draco was trying desperately to feel sorry for his mother, but somehow he wasn't doing it very well. He did wonder who was responsible and no matter how much he tried to deny it, he knew that it had to be Voldemort. Who else could have gotten hold of his wand and used it so efficiently?

Draco remembered the way Narcissa had fawned over the Dark Lord and the way Voldemort had looked at her. And he knew the two were sleeping together. Yet, if the article was correct, Voldemort had cursed her several times. Did Voldemort truly care about anyone? Was there nothing he wouldn't do to achieve his aims? Of course, Draco knew that to be the case. Look at what had happened to him. One minute Voldemort was calling him his son. The next he was torturing him just for the hell of it.

And yet, there was still that little dark voice in the back of his mind demanding his loyalty. Leeching into his soul and turning it black.

"Let's just see if we can find the right context then." George snatched the newspaper back and glanced at his brother. "We're attracting attention. I think it's time we moved." Fred nodded.

"If you think I'm going anywhere with..." Draco paused as something pressed into his side. He could tell that it was the tip of a wand. He sneered at Fred. "And just what do you intend to do with that? Poke me to death?" His left hand twitched, ready to retrieve Harry's wand from its holster.

"Oh? Would you like to see how quickly I can turn you into something really nasty?" Fred sneered back. "Oh, just a minute. That would be pointless. You are already nasty!"

"Pack it in." George tugged at Draco's arm. "Would you rather we left you for Flint and his Aurors? It would take me about two minutes to call them."

"Do I have a choice?" Neither answered, and they frog marched him down the street. "This is not the way to Diagon Alley."

"That's because we aren't going there. We're off somewhere where no one will ever think to look for you."

********************

Hedwig fluttered down to the ground and settled beside the large black shaggy dog. Her change back into human form was as smooth as silk, and almost instantly, she laid her small hand on the dog's head, scratching it between the ears.

"Hello, Padfoot. It's been a while since I've seen you in this form."

The dog gave a whimper and settled its head on her thigh. She continued stroking the dog's head for a while.

Padfoot looked up with large baleful eyes and then suddenly rolled onto its back, paws in the air.

"Don't even think about it, Sirius," she chuckled. "I refuse to scratch your tummy. Now, if you don't turn transfigure back, I'll start throwing sticks."

The paws dropped to the ground, and for a moment the dog kept watching her. Then the eyes changed shape slightly as Padfoot reverted to Sirius, but they remained the same pale colour. Sirius lay at her side, his long hair spread across the grass.

"Will you tickle my tummy now?"

Hedwig tilted her head to one side and looked down at him. "What, with Remus and Severus just coming out of the house?" He broke the gaze and shifted slightly to see Remus close the door of Sirius' cottage.

"Damn. I was looking forward to a good tummy rub."

The hand darted out and fingers dug in just above his navel, causing Sirius to jump and let out a surprised, high-pitched squeal. He grabbed at the hand as it continued tickling him and finally managed to pull it away. "That was not fair. I wasn't ready."

"Well, that will teach you to always be prepared won't it?" she whispered, as the two were joined by the newcomers. "Hello boys." She took Snape's outstretched hand and let him help her up.

Sirius stiffened at the gesture, but made no comment as he got to his feet. He quickly brushed the grass from his robes and looked at his visitors -- the grown up branch of the 'Keep Harry Safe' taskforce. "Remus. Severus." He nodded at them and gestured towards a rose covered arbour where despite the lateness of the season, there were still flowers blooming on the bushes.

The four sat on the curved, almost circular, bench with its bewitched cushions that prevented them from getting wet in the rain. There was a long silence before Hedwig finally spoke. Sirius suddenly noticed that her hair was much darker today, the red highlights very prominent. It didn't really surprise him, she'd had almost every conceivable colour in all the years he had known her, from jet black to even an apple green. Today it reminded him of someone else, but he couldn't quite place it.

"Fred and George have met up with Draco."

Remus was fiddling with a chain around his neck. "Is he okay?"

"Nothing a good meal and a night's sleep won't cure."

"Wasn't it a bit cruel, telling him not to use Harry's wand and leaving him out there to fend for himself?"

She gave a half smile. "No. Look at it as a lesson in self-control. It'll do him some good having to stand on his own two feet for a change. Anyway, he was never really on his own."

"Pity," Sirius mumbled.

"It's not the boy's fault," Snape interjected. "He didn't ask for this anymore than Harry did."

"No, but he's asked for a lot else. Did you see the article in the Daily Prophet? If he could do that to his mother..." Sirius saw Snape's body language change. His back became very straight and his eyes, which had shown nothing, seemed to gleam a little.

"What has he done?" Snape asked.

Sirius had to fight hard not to smile. Oh the joy of getting one over Snape. "Haven't you seen the paper today? Apparently your one-time star pupil is supposed to have used the Cruciatus curse on his mother and then ran away. Narcissa Malfoy is still in St Mungo's."

"You know Draco didn't do it, Sirius." Hedwig quickly responded. "He was nowhere near the estate when that happened. Assuming, of course, it did actually happen to her. There's no proof."

"Well, he could have done it before you got there."

She pointed a reproachful finger at him. "Now you are being ridiculous. Are you suggesting that he cursed her into unconsciousness and then went to his room and read a book? And then no one found her for another 24 hours? No, this is Lucius' work."

"I didn't trust Lucius before all this started, and I don't trust his son either." Sirius folded his arms and glared at no one in particular.

"And I didn't come here to waste time arguing over Draco's past actions, nor to deal with your prejudices." Snape got to his feet. He was suddenly very angry with himself. Angry because even after everything the wretched woman had done to him, he still cared.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Severus, get off your bloody high horse and sit down. I know you've always had some misguided notion that people like Malfoy can be redeemed, but this time you are wrong. Malfoy's as evil as his father and if it weren't for this curse, none of us would be interested in him. When this is all over, he will go back to being exactly what he was before -- an obnoxious creep who thinks being a Death Eater is a fashion accessory." Sirius folded his arms, eyes fixed angrily on Snape. "Look, you called this meeting. Say what you have to say and we can all go down to the pub."

Snape didn't sit. Now that the initial shock of hearing something had happened to Narcissa had worn off, he could concentrate on why he wanted to meet with these people. They had never had any real time for him. At least Sirius didn't, just as the ex-Marauder hadn't during their days as students and then in the years that followed. Snape mirrored the other's folded arms and the pair stared angrily at each other. If looks could kill, both Snape and Sirius would be dead. "That's typical of you, isn't it, Black? I still don't understand how you managed to wangle your way into being Deputy Minister. You never act the part. You've gotten through your life without taking anything seriously. It's all one big drunken joke."

"When I need to, I know exactly how to act the part. I also know what is important and what is not." Pale eyes stared angrily into Snape's black eyes. "As for being serious, Snape, I take many, many things seriously. It's just you I don't!"

"You don't take Harry very seriously, do you?" The whispered words were hard and dark, matching the glimmer in Snape's eyes.

"Don't you dare try to score points using him!" Sirius was now trying to get to his feet, his expression murderous at the mere idea that Snape should think that he wasn't doing his very best for his godson. Remus held him down.

"Listen, the pair of you." Remus' quiet voice cut through their angry words. "We promised Albus, remember? We promised each other -- no arguing."

"He started it." Sirius' fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. "Git."

"Shut up, Sirius!" Remus raised his voice several notches and suddenly brandished his wand. "Or so help me, I will hex you." He looked at Snape. "I'll hex both of you." Sirius huffed but recognised the expression on his friend's face and remained silent. Remus was not a person to mess with, especially when he was annoyed. Sirius knew what the Auror was capable of these days and did not care to push him now. "Severus, get on with it."

Snape heard the other's tone, but didn't respond. He just kept his gaze steadily on Sirius. "I wonder if you know where Harry is today."

"Of course," Sirius answered. "I can check up with Hermione's location charms."

"But you can't tell me right now, this moment, where he is. Or where he was yesterday or the day before. Or who he's with."

"Well, no, not exactly."

"I can tell you, Sirius. He's on his own, wandering about with a curse as deadly as any of the Unforgivable curses hanging over him. He's on his own even though we know Voldemort is targeting him. Do you really think that is wise?" He didn't wait for Sirius to answer. "When I saw him on Sunday, he was ill -- not just tired, but ill. This curse is taking a great toll on him, and what he doesn't need is the added responsibility of his own safety."

"Since when did you care about him?" The sarcastic anger in Sirius' voice cut the air.

Since he gave me that charmed silver stag, Snape wanted to say. Since he rescued me and since I realised my responsibility for the curse. But he said none of this. "Since you..." The word was almost spat out. "Asked me to check on him. If we can apparate into the lighthouse using coded spells capable of overriding Weasley's ward spells, then what makes you think Voldemort's minions can't do the same? Harry ... and Draco ... should be somewhere safe, such as Hogwarts. If he won't go to Hogwarts, then he needs to be protected with a Fidelius charm and a Secret Keeper."

Remus had slipped off the chain from his neck. A small silver disk, with several rune-like markings, hung from it. "I agree."

"What?" Sirius blustered his descent even though he knew Snape was right. "Harry is okay."

"Of course he is, Sirius, but for how long? We've all been complacent in this." Remus finally put his wand away. "I am not sure that the Fidelius charm is the right one, but we should give him the option of using it. The charm will be ready in a few days. Then once Harry has picked his Secret Keeper..."

"I'll do it," Sirius quickly put in.

"It's up to Harry to choose." Hedwig, who had remained very quiet, finally joined in the debate. "He has to agree to this. We can't force him. I think he is likely to refuse, given the history of Fidelius and his parents. I don't think he would trust it." She touched a hand to Remus' leg. "I asked Remus to prepare a Coniurtus charm as well. It should make it impossible for Voldemort to actually plot a location on Harry..." she met Snape's eyes. "Or Draco. That way we should be able to keep them both out of trouble."

Remus held up the chain, the silver disc catching the light as it spun lazily. "This is the talisman for the charm. It uses magic similar to that used at Hogwarts to make it unplottable. It means that unless Voldemort is actually face-to-face with the wearer, he will not be able to track them. Neville is currently making a second one."

"There is something else." Snape rubbed his hands nervously together. "I have heard from one of my contacts in the Death Eaters." Sirius mumbled something inaudible, and from the look on his face, it wasn't flattering. "Voldemort is planning something for Halloween. My contact did not know what, but he believes that it involves Harry. That is probably why Voldemort hasn't killed either of the boys yet."

********************

The place where no one would think to look for him was an inconspicuous building off Charing Cross Road. On the outside, there were no signs or any indication of whom the building belonged to or what it was used for. Inside, there was an office, which lead to a storeroom. And that was where Draco now was, standing in the middle of the storeroom with its metal racks of unmarked boxes and the ubiquitous naked light bulb swinging above him.

Draco stood easily, feet slightly apart and arms folded across his chest, watching the backs of the Weasley twins as they searched through his bag and cloak. He was cold without the cloak, but he had no intention of letting them know that. He would also have liked to sit down, but as the only chair seemed to be next to George, standing remained his best option. In truth, it didn't concern him to be on his feet; one of his father's favourite punishments had been to make him stand for hours. "How much longer are you going to be?"

"As long as it takes." Fred glanced over his shoulder before returning to his search of Draco's bag. He and George were checking for location magic and surveillance spells. "Never thought you'd be a person to travel light, Malfoy."

"I didn't have much time to pack. I'd like to get on my way. You know -- places to go, people to see."

George finished his search of the cloak and tossed it back to Draco. "Oh? People and places? Do you know how easy it would be for me to contact Marcus Flint?"

"I didn't ask you to bring me here." Draco wrapped himself back into the travel cloak, pulling it tightly about him.

"Listen, Malfoy, we don't give a toss about you, just remember that." George folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the desk. "But if you'd stepped into Diagon Alley, you'd probably be in Azkaban by now. There were about 30 people waiting there for you."

"Then why stop me? Surely letting me be arrested for that..." Draco pointed at the newspaper lying on the table, "would have gotten me out of your way for good."

Fred mirrored his twin's posture. "Because we care about Harry and we know what you've done to him."

"Me?" Draco's voice rose slightly in anger at the suggestion. "I'm not responsible for any of this." A question flashed through his mind. How much do they know?

"No, you're never responsible, are you?" George looked thoughtfully at Draco before crossing to Draco's side, towering over him by a good head. "Never responsible for anything." His hand suddenly shot out, giving the other a gentle push, just enough to knock Draco off balance.

Draco stepped back to regain his balance and allowed the wand to slip down into his hand under cover of the cloak. "I have no argument with you, Weasley."

George shrugged a little, his face hard. "Really? Just think for a moment about my family. We used to be such a happy little family. There was Fred and myself, Charlie who loves his dragons, our little sister Ginny who wanted to be a Medi-Witch, and Ron, of course. You know Ron because you went to Hogwarts with him. We have the most wonderful mother in the whole world, but she's a very sad person now." George's expressive face was now a few inches from Draco's, the older man's red hair hanging loosely down past his shoulders. "And do you know why she's sad? It's because her husband and son are both dead."

"I'm not really in the mood for potted histories at the moment?"

It was not the right thing to say. George, who normally considered himself a very mild mannered man, shoved Draco back against the metal racking, hard enough to dislodge a couple of boxes. The edge of the racking caught Draco down the length of his spine, and his knees buckled. He grabbed at a metal strut to stop himself from falling, grimacing in pain. Instinctively, he pointed the wand. "Don't..." The single word was hard, almost spat out through the pain. "Touch me," he finished.

Stepping back, George automatically raised his hands. "Okay." He cursed silently, wondering how Malfoy had managed to keep the wand hidden when they searched him. "Why don't you put that down?"

"No. Now, give me my bag and I will just get on my way."

"Fred, give the man his bag." George cast a glance at his twin, a look Draco didn't see passing between them.

Perhaps it was because he was tired, but Draco didn't see George tense or the movement that culminated in a perfect kick. The foot connected with Draco's arm, sending the wand spinning across the room. Draco dived for it, but Fred was already there, kicking it out of his reach. He made to get up, but Fred's hand was on his shoulders, holding him down on his knees.

"Now, that was stupid, wasn't it?"

Draco didn't respond, cross with himself for losing his one piece of protection. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Fred studying the wand, a frown masking his features. Did he know whom it belonged to?

"Where did you get this?"

"It's mine." Draco managed to push off Fred's hand and scrambled back to his feet. He straightened his cloak,

"No it isn't"

"Ask the owl."

"Don't worry, we will." Fred hefted the wand, and for a moment Draco thought he was going to use it. Instead he turned to his brother. "Come on."

George picked up Draco's bag and stared long and hard at Draco. "You are lucky to be alive, Malfoy. It's a shame the same can't be said of my dad and my brother Bill. Why don't you spend some time pondering on your part in their deaths?"

"What?"

"Think about it, Malfoy." He followed his brother, slamming the door behind him.

Draco stared for a moment at the closed door. A part of his mind wondered what on earth the man was talking about; the rest began searching the storeroom, looking for any other way out. What was Mr Weasley's name? He threaded his way through the storage racks, but each ended at a blank wall. Alfred? Andrew? No, it was Arthur ... Arthur Weasley who used to work at the Ministry with Lucius.

Realisation shot through him like an arrow, and he found himself clutching at the shelving. Arthur and Bill Weasley, of course. Bill Weasley had long hair, just like George. He remembered that it had been in a ponytail when they brought him into the room on that night three years ago; a month after Potter had defeated Voldemort.

It had been the first Dark Mark ceremony his father had hosted (of course Draco now realised that it hadn't been his father, but Voldemort). Lucius had wanted something special for that night -- something for the two new Death Eater recruits to do that would prove their commitment to both their late master Voldemort and to their new master Lucius. Death Eaters had caught Arthur and Bill. Arthur because he was a thorn in Lucius' side at the Ministry, and Bill who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Draco remembered being on the dais with his father when the two were tortured with the Cruciatus curse. Then, they were killed with Avada Kedavra, one each for the two new Death Eaters to kill to prove their loyalty to their new master.

It had not been an evening Draco cared to remember.

It had been the first time Draco had ever seen someone killed. The first time he had seen either curse used in anger.

********************

"Do you need a hand?"

Ron turned from the kitchen cupboard and grinned at Hermione. "No. It's your day and you are not to do anything. Well, almost nothing. Come here." With his free hand (the other was holding a large box of Rice Krispies) he pulled her towards him and kissed her on the lips. She joined in eagerly, her mouth opening under his as he teased at her lower lip. The tip of her tongue darted out, catching the tip of Ron's, and the box of cereal dropped down onto the worktop, temporarily forgotten.

Finally, Hermione pulled back slightly. "Mmm, you taste of chocolate. It had better not be mine."

Ron leaned away from her and placed his index finger into a bowl of melted chocolate and marshmallows on the stove. "Try this." Hermione opened her mouth, and sucked on the finger, letting the warm mixture dissolve on her tongue. "Krispies cakes. Your favourite -- and my one claim to fame as far as cooking is concerned." The little chocolate cakes made simply of puffed rice cereal mixed into chocolate had always been a childhood favourite of Hermione's, and Ron was more than happy to make the Muggle cakes.

"I hope I've got a proper cake as well."

"Oh, yes," Hermione watched him dip his middle finger into the chocolate, and she licked that clean as well. "Complete with 22 candles."

"Well, at least there won't be anyone else to count them."

"It's going to be a quiet evening, isn't it?" Ron mused. "Mum's sorry she can't make it tonight. Charlie is out in Germany and Ginny is over in Paris. Fred and George had to go to Hogsmeade, and even Neville is away. Shall I go on?"

"No, don't depress me any more than I already am." She put on a mock sad face.

"Well, I will do my best to cheer you up. Just you and me, a bottle of something bubbly to drink and a rug in front of the fire. Shall I go on?" He reached for the box and began to add the cereal to the chocolate.

Hermione watched him, her hand gently trailing up and down his spine. "Oh, I think I could live with that." She kissed him on the cheek. "It would have been nice to have mum and dad here."

"Yeah, perhaps we can organise a trip to France and spend time with them."

"Maybe, when all this stuff with Harry is over."

Ron nodded and sighed. "Mmm." A thoughtful smile slowly grew on his face. "Why don't you go run a nice bath? I've got all this chocolate to get off."

"Now, that does sound like a good idea."

He began dividing the mixture into little paper cases. "I'll be there as soon as I've finished this."

"Rice Krispies can wait, you know?" She gave him a playful wink.

"What? And ruin something for us to play with later?" Ron was grinning madly to himself as he quickly finished with the cakes, licking the spoon clean.

She blew him a kiss and headed for the door. As she reached it, the chimes of the doorbell sounded. "I hope you haven't planned a surprise party, Ronald Weasley!"

"Would I do that? Check who it is before you open the door."

Hermione reached for her wand and pointed it at the door, intoning a quiet incantation. The door seemed to become invisible and she was able to see who was standing on the step. "It's Harry," she called, surprise in her voice. "Is this the surprise? I didn't think he knew where we lived."

"I gave him the address the last time we met, but this is a surprise to me as well. I didn't think he would even remember your birthday." Ron gave an exaggerated sighed. "Bang goes the chocolate crunchy wrestling match. Are you going to let him in?"

As he spoke, all hell broke loose. The ward spells around the house suddenly burst into life, filling the kitchen with prisms of coloured light from the protection crystals. "What the..."

Hermione's eyes became wide as she noted the colours and realised what they represented. "Dark magic." She sprinted for the front door and yanked it open. Harry started to speak but didn't manage to say anything as he was dragged into the house. She slammed the door closed, locking it with a new spell before bundling the visitor into the lounge.

"I..." Harry managed one word.

"Shut up and don't move." She slammed the door closed and intoned a protection spell to seal the room. "Ron..."

"My wand. It's up in the bedroom." He didn't exactly panic, but he started searching for a weapon of some sort. The spoon clattered to the worktop and he grabbed a carving knife from the drawer.

"Here, see what you can get from this." She tossed her own wand at him and he caught it deftly with his right hand. "Where are the intruders?"

"In the back garden." Wand pointing in the direction of the garden, Ron closed his eyes, his forehead furrowed in concentration as he used his inner senses to pick up what was going on outside. "Okay, I've got them. There are three people. Wait." His eyes opened in surprise. "That's weird." He looked down at the wand as though both it and his abilities as a seer were lying. "I'm picking up Fred and George."

"Are you sure? What about the dark magic? The wards are definitely showing dark magic."

"Don't know. Can you get my wand?" She nodded and disappeared towards the stairs. Ron turned to the door leading from the kitchen to the back garden, and waited. He tightened his grip on both Hermione's wand and the knife as the door opened.

He lowered both wand and knife as he saw his two brothers. "Bloody hell!" Ron let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Surprise, surprise." George did not smile as he sauntered into the room.

"You are not joking. You nearly gave me a heart attack, and you've set off every alarm in the place."

"Sorry about that." Fred did not smile either. He remained by the door, still outside.

"What are you doing here? I thought both of you were going up to Hogsmeade."

"We had to cancel our trip, so we thought we'd come for dinner after all." Fred answered. "Maybe you should set some extra spaces because we've got another guest for you." He leaned to the left and grabbed at something, pulling it into view.

Draco Malfoy offered no resistance. Stopping on the threshold, he saw the sparkle of a barrier, which George had passed through without any problem. He stood there, his eyes raking slowly around the doorframe before finally meeting Ron's incredulous gaze. "Evening, Weasley. Nice place you have here." He reached out a finger and touched the barrier that prevented him from entering. "I'm not a vampire, you know. You can let me in."

Ron gulped, and then pointed the knife at Draco. "What is he doing here?" Each word was punctuated with rancour, but the word 'he' sounded like he was talking about something he'd picked up on his shoe.

"Well," George had crossed the room and was now standing beside his younger brother. "You probably won't believe this, but Hedwig asked us to collect 'him'." More stuff on shoes.

"And 'he'," Fred joined in, from his place behind Draco, "wants to see Harry."

"Excuse me, but I am here," Draco retorted.

"Hedwig?" Ron ignored the comment. "She's back?"

George leaned close, whispering in his brother's ear. "Apparently she went and got him out of Malfoy Manor."

"Why bring him here?"

"Hedwig suggested it." Fred folded his arms across his chest. "Are you going to let him in?"

Ron appeared to consider his options for a moment before pointing the wand at the doorway. He left the barrier in place. "Do you know what that is, Malfoy? It detects dark magic and won't let it through. Try anything in here and a dozen defence spells will take you out. Understand?" Draco shrugged. "I. Said. Do. You. Understand?" Each word was punctuated as though he was talking to an idiot.

"I. Understand." Draco's voice mirrored the other's tone exactly.

The barrier disappeared and with the help of Fred's hand in the small of his back, Draco entered the kitchen. Fred walked past and joined his two brothers.

********************

It had taken Hermione several minutes to find Ron's wand, and by the time she had gotten back down the stairs, the twins had arrived. She witnessed the rest of the exchange from the doorway and was as shocked as Ron to see Malfoy. She debated whether to intercede, but in the end decided that it would be prudent to leave them to their own devices, at least for the time being.

After all, she had Harry to deal with.

He was pacing the lounge when she opened the door, using Ron's wand to take down the spells. "Harry," she smiled.

"Hermione." He was at her side in two strides. "What is going on? I couldn't get out."

"Ah." She took a calming breath. "Something set off all our ward spells just as you arrived."

"Is everything okay?" He gripped her shoulder. "Are you all right? ... And Ron?"

"Oh, I think it will be okay in a minute." She wanted to add 'if Ron doesn't kill Malfoy', but decided that this wasn't the right time. "This room has some additional protection. It's something I discovered based on the same magic as the Fidelius charm. If someone using dark magic came in here, they wouldn't have seen you."

"Then why couldn't I get out?"

She smiled. "Simple, I locked the door as well. Alohomora would have worked on it. Remember -- Standard Book of Spells, chapter seven?"

"Oh." Harry smiled. The reference brought back a torrent of memories, hidden for so many years. "What set off the wards?"

She knew he would find out soon enough. "It's Fred and George."

"They set them off? Doesn't Ron like them anymore?"

"They've got Draco Malfoy with them."

"Malfoy? Here?" She nodded and watched as Harry looked heavenward and mouthed 'thank you' to some unseen deity. "Is he okay?"

"He looked alright. Harry, you are acting as though you're expecting him."

He nodded. "Well, sort of, but not necessarily here. We -- Sirius, Hedwig and me -- decided to rescue him from Malfoy Manor. Hedwig told me he'd gotten out, but I wasn't sure what had happened to him since then. And I haven't seen her since Monday." He saw surprise register on her face. "Hedwig was my owl, remember? She's actually an..."

"An Animagus."

"You know?" It was Harry's turn to look surprised.

"Of course. It was a bit of a shock when I first found out, but I've known for a couple of years."

"Oh. I was going to tell Ron and you this evening. About her and Draco." He moved towards the door.

"Just a moment." Hermione put both her hands on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. "First, I think Ron and the twins need to talk to Malfoy alone for a moment."

"Why?"

"You don't know, do you?" A hand went to her mouth. "About what happened to Bill and Arthur just after you left?"

"I know they are dead. Sirius told me."

"Did he tell you what happened? And why Ron hates Malfoy so much?"

"I thought it was because of school, then the war and everything. We all needed someone to blame. I thought it was just that."

"No. It's more. Arthur and Bill were caught by a group of Death Eaters. Ron tried to rescue them. He saw both of them tortured and killed. Malfoy was there with his father when it happened."

"Did he do it? Did Draco kill them?"

"No. But he was as close to them as you and I are now. Ron has always thought that Malfoy could have stopped it."

Harry dropped to a seat and for a moment sat with his head in his hands. "Now it all makes sense." He pulled at his hair, causing the curls to stand up untidily, and looked at her. "Now I see why he's been so angry. It's not just me he's mad at, is it?"

"Oh, believe me, there's a lot of anger there as well. But when he found out Malfoy was the trigger for this curse thing Lucius Malfoy used on you, it almost killed him. He's scared, Harry, scared that Malfoy is going to take you away as well."

********************

Draco stood by the now closed door, arms by his side, fists clenched. "I need to talk to Potter."

No one took any notice of him, instead the three bothers were huddled together, Fred whispering something to the other two. At one point, George took a wand from his robes and showed it to Ron, gesturing in Draco's direction.

Draco recognised the wand as Harry's. "Excuse me." They kept talking. "I said excuse me!"

Ron looked over at Draco, his eyes dripping malice. "Shut up. Or I will turn you into a ferret."

"Don't threaten me, Weasley." Draco strode forward several paces and stopped as three, actually make that four, wands were pointed in his direction. "Okay." He did the only thing he could do, which was to step back.

Ron finally closed the gap between them. He had put down Hermione's wand and now held the one George had given him in his right hand. "This is Harry's wand."

"Correct." No point in lying, Draco decided

"What are you doing with it?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Draco couldn't decide what worried him more, the wands or the knife still clutched in Ron's hand. He cast a surreptitious glance towards the wand on the table, and wondered whether he could get it before the three brothers hexed him. As for the knife, normally Muggle weapons didn't worry him, but he had no other protection at the moment, and the last thing he wanted was to end up bleeding all over the floor. "The owl gave it to me. Now, I've asked nicely and I will ask again. I need to talk to Potter now."

It was at that instant Hermione took the spells off the lounge and Draco tried not to gasp out loud. Harry was here, in the same building as he was, just a few feet away! The sensation through the curse link was so strong, he thought for a moment that he might pass out.

"How dare you come into my home and demand anything! You arrogant git."

"Name calling doesn't suit someone of your age, Weasley. Leave it for the corridors at Hogwarts." The response was automatic. Draco was concentrating on the link and not Ron. The initial impact had lessened now, but he could still feel it, similar to his link with Voldemort. Would Harry be aware of this? Could he 'hear' him if Draco called? He tested the hypothesis, but there was nothing. Perhaps, he considered, this worked in only one direction.

Suddenly aware of movement, Draco looked up to find Ron was now at his side. He met the other's blue eyes and was shocked by the depth of hatred he saw in them. The look caused a grip of ice to twist in his gut and he remembered the same sensation being triggered by something else ... by someone else.

Ron paused in front of Malfoy, watching him for a moment. With deliberate slowness, he switched Harry's wand to the hand still holding the knife. Then his right hand shot out, and he backhanded Draco across the face.

Completely unprepared, Draco didn't even have a chance to steady himself. He staggered sideways, grabbed for support, but missed the chair and fell over it. Crashing to the floor, his head connected with the tiles with an audible crack. He gasped as white-hot pain shot through his skull, zigzagging across his brain and making stars dance before his eyes. He grabbed at his head, trying to hold it still as he curled up on the floor.

"I am going to thrash you within an inch of your worthless life." Ron stepped over the prone figure.

"You..." Draco sucked in air as his eyes watered from the pain, and he managed to raise himself on one elbow. "...And whose army?" He regretted the retort the moment he made it as the twins stepped forward. "Oh, yeah, that army. Weasley, I don't have time for this."

"You don't have time?" The gentle kick at Draco's shoe belied Ron's growing anger, livid spots of red marking his cheeks. "You killed my dad and my brother and you haven't got time?" The next kick was harder.

"I did not kill them," Draco panted, still trying to breath through the pain radiating through his head with a throbbing intensity. It felt like his skull had been cracked in two. His own foot intercepted Ron's third kick, stopping it from reaching its target. "I was there that night, but I didn't do anything." Draco scooted away from Ron on his backside and tried to get up. Ron's foot caught behind his ankle and jerked the leg up, dropping him back onto the ground with a thud. The pain in his head fractured again with red lightning, and he gritted his teeth.

"And that, my friend, is the problem. You did nothing, which makes you responsible by default." Ron pointed the wand at the fallen man. "I am going to start with the Standard Book of Spells grade 1 and work my way through to grade 7. And you are going to experience every single curse I can find."

Draco went very still for a moment. His head swam with pain, the side of his face burned from Ron's slap and he could taste blood from a cut lip. "If you curse me, Potter gets to feel it as well." His feet suddenly shot out, ankles linking around Ron's shin, and Draco twisted it over.

Ron went flying, knife and wand spilling from his hands across the floor. The edge of the table caught his side, and he staggered back against a cupboard and onto the floor. Both men scrambled towards the fallen weapons, Draco reaching Harry's wand first. Fingers curled around the handle, nails scraping across the tiles, and he made to pick it up.

The foot that stomped down on Draco's wrist belonged to one of the twins, but he didn't know which, because the other had placed a foot between his shoulder blades, effectively pinning him to the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Ron retrieve the knife and start towards him. He managed to flex the wand round, pointing it across the floor. The curse from his lips was simple, "Aversus," and it blasted Ron backwards across the room. Ron hit the wall with an audible grunt, a noise suddenly matched by Draco as the foot, which had been on his wrist, crushed down on his fingers. The wand was wrenched from his broken grasp.

Draco met Ron's eyes again and finally he remembered what had triggered the growing knot of fear, which still tightened inside him. The face before him shimmered and in place of eyes full of blue ice, he saw the grey of his father's eyes. Draco felt his mouth go dry as his memory dragged him back in time.

He was 11, had just arrived home from his first year at Hogwarts clutching an excellent report in his hand. But Hermione Granger had been named as top student in his year, not him. His best wasn't good enough. The punishment had lasted hours, and he had tried so hard not to cry ... to remain silent as was expected. Then when he had thought it was all over, when there didn't seem an inch of him not bruised or cut, his father had used THE spell. The Dark magic brought with the Malfoy family from France all those generations ago when they had escaped the Persecutions. Douleur Encore. The curse took away all his injuries, but as they were removed he had experienced the pain from each one again. And all the time he could see his father watching him, intoning those so familiar tirades of "You make me do this. If you did as you were told this would not happen. You are so weak, but I will correct that. You aren't worthy to be a Malfoy."

The rage in Ron Weasley's blue eyes was full of hot-tempered aggression. The rage in his father's grey eyes was cold and full of self-controlled bitterness. Both looks were so different, but both had the same effect, they dug into the knot of ice in his stomach, freezing him into stillness, and as Ron's hand closed back around the knife handle, Draco realised he was trembling with dread.

Ron crawled across the floor on his hands and knees, his eyes never wavering from Draco's face as he came closer. He was almost down at Draco's level as he reached the other's side and he slid the tip of the knife under Draco's chin. "Okay." Ron hissed. "Then let's do this Muggle style." He flicked the tip of the knife along Draco's chin just hard enough to draw a drop of blood "What shall we start with? The fingers or the toes?"

The pressure suddenly came off Draco's back, and he realised that the foot had been removed. He tried to move back, but his hand was still effectively trapped, and for the first time, he managed to look upward. The foot belonged to Fred, and the twin was smiling down at him, a cold hard smile. The twin's eyes broke contact, looking at something behind Draco. His free arm was grabbed, pulling him over onto this back and twisting the trapped hand at an awkward angle.

The fist that caught Draco in the stomach knocked the wind out of him. As it hit him, the twins finally released him, leaving him curled up, clutching his solar plexus. Draco gagged on the pain, trying hard to move, to get anywhere, away from these people. But before Draco could move further, Ron was back on his feet, standing over him again.

Ron lifted a foot and pressed it down hard on the other's right thigh. "Did you hear them beg, Malfoy? Did you hear my father beg for my brother's life?" He twisted his foot, grinding the hard tread of his shoe into Draco's flesh; grinding 10 years of hatred into the punishing movement. Hatred, which had started with a single comment of 'My father told me all the Weasleys had red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford' on the Hogwarts Express, and grew with each additional jibe and retort. Loathing, which had matured through the deaths of his father and brother, which still swamped him right up to this very moment, because Ron saw the person at his feet as being a dangerous threat to his friend Harry.

Draco's hands went round Ron's ankle and he tried to stop the moment. "If you were there, then you would have known what happened. I didn't do it." The repeated words caught in his throat as the foot's movement twisted into the muscle, and Draco felt stickiness on his skin. Ron had drawn blood.

"Like I said, you did nothing. Up there standing next to your precious father with that insufferable smirk on your face." Ron's voice became very quiet as he looked down at the man at his feet. The knife swung dangerously above Draco's chest, held only by Ron's thumb and forefinger. But Draco's gaze wasn't on the knife; it was fixed on Ron's face... Ron's eyes... his father's eyes.

Ron's whole demeanour was full of measured darkness, and for the first time in those 10 years he saw fear on Draco Malfoy's face. "Do you know what was the worst thing, Malfoy? Even worse then losing them to filth like you? You didn't even let us have their bodies back." Ron dragged his foot hard off Draco's leg, and he was finally rewarded with a cry of pain from his enemy. Draco tried to stop the yelp, but the agonizing sound caught in his throat on a gasping cry. "You fucking bastard." Ron's foot kicked out at the fallen man's side, catching him just below the ribs. "What. Did. You. Fucking. Do. With. Them?"

Draco tried to count the blows, one for each word. He curled up again, trying to protect himself, but that just gave Ron more of his right side to attack. His foot caught Draco where Voldemort had kicked him nine days ago, where his body was still tender. One landed on his hip, another across the injured thigh. His knee. His shin. His side again. Hard enough to lift him from the ground.

He tried not to tense, grateful for the fact that he still had his cloak on, the thick material taking some of the punishment. But for a moment, he really thought he was going to die.

"RON!"

Ron stopped, his foot ready for another kick, and turned to the new, female voice. "Stay out of this, Hermione."

"No! Just stop this right now." Hermione crossed quickly to Ron's side and dragged him away. She stared hard at her boyfriend, shocked at his actions. Almost unable to accept that the kind and gentle person she knew could have been so violent. "What on earth do you think you are doing? And give me that." She reached for the knife, putting it out of harm's way. "As for you two," she continued, taking in Fred and George in her all encompassing gaze, equally as aghast that these two actually let Ron carry out such treatment. "Why didn't you stop him?"

Fred shrugged. "We were about to join in again."

"But now you've stopped the fun." George did his best to look crestfallen.

Her eyes finally fixed on Draco, and for a moment she wasn't sure how to deal with him. There was a part of her that would just have loved to slap Malfoy around the face as she had done many years ago, but the trainee Medi-Witch that she was knew she had to help him. "Come on. Get up." She held out a hand, helping him up.

The effort to stand was almost too much, but Draco finally made it to his feet. "I need to see Potter." He took a breath, and the Malfoy mask dropped effortlessly back into place. "Oh, and do you have anything for a headache?" Draco grimaced as he prodded the back of his head tenderly. His hand touched wetness and when he looked, there was blood on his fingers.

"You..." Ron stepped forward, hand reaching for the wand he had dropped on the table earlier.

"Stop it!" Hermione moved between the two. "Ron, give me that as well." She held out a hand for the wand. "It's mine, give it to me." After a moment's hesitation, he passed it to her.

He saw that she was holding his own wand. "And that's mind! Give it to me."

"No. Not while you are being such an insufferable child. Now, get over there with Fred and George."

"I'm pleased that someone's in control here."

She turned on Malfoy. "And you can shut up as well." The commanding voice silenced any further remarks from him. "Sit down."

Draco sat as though ordered by his father, grateful not to have to stand any longer. He wasn't sure how long he could remain on his feet anyway. The whole of his right side, from ribs to ankle, was hurt, and he was worried that his knee might give way. There was a trickle of blood running from where Ron had grounded his leg to pulp. As for his head, he didn't really want to consider the damage there.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regain some measure of control over the pain. They flashed open again as a hand touched his shoulder, and he instinctively flinched back, waiting for another blow. It never came. Instead, a gentle hand touched his face.

Hermione cast a practiced eye over the vivid red slap mark on Malfoy's face, which was rapidly turning into a black eye. He also had a cut lip, the blood drying in a trickle down his chin. "Hmm," she murmured, turning his head to the left a little to check out the back of his head. There was a growing red lump under the blond hair, which was streaked with blood. As she let go, the collar of his shirt fell away from his neck, and Hermione glanced down, the light catching on his skin, illuminating something that caused an intake of breathe. Her fingers pulled the collar back, and she saw the lightning bolt scar.

Draco's eyes darted to Hermione, black pupils almost obscuring the grey. He saw the astonishment in her eyes and the frown of an unspoken question. He swallowed and pulled the shirt so that the scar was covered.

Hermione held his gaze for a moment, then crossed to a cupboard and took out her small medical kit. She carefully applied a healing salve to the injury on Draco's head. "You'll live," was all she said.

"Now, can I see Potter? I know he's here." The link between Harry and himself drifted just at the edge of his consciousness, not quite reality and not yet fantasy.

"Malfoy, Harry is..." Hermione started.

"He isn't here." Ron's rebuttal came quickly and he grabbed at Hermione, his face urging her to keep silent. How the hell did Malfoy know Harry was here? He glanced at his brothers, whose questioning looks were asking if Malfoy was right. This was not good. What if Malfoy was spying for his father? What if the moment Harry's presence became common knowledge, the place became full of Death Eaters? "Hermione, don't listen to him. This is all a big trick."

"No it isn't, Weasley. If it was a trap, I'd hardly have came in through the front door." Draco shrugged, "Or in this case, the back door."

"You arrogant bastard."

"Ron!"

"I'll talk to him."

The quiet voice made everybody jump. Harry stepped out of the shadows where he had been watching since he and Hermione had heard Draco's cry. He stood for a moment, eyes resting calmly on Draco's face. "You made it then."

--------------------


Author notes: Next chapter: When Harry met Draco...
Finally, at last Harry and Draco met face-to-face. Loads of angst for everyone.

The Douleur Encore was invented by Ginzai who has kindly let me use it to torture Draco just that little bit more.


Thanks to the best beta crew in the world without whom this story would be a much poorer thing: Josie, for picking up my mistakes. Thursday, my resident Snape expert. Ashleigh, my rock who never seems to tire of my pitiful emails and always has something constructive to say. Ginzai, whom I am now convinced is a mind reader and my Draco expert.

A special welcome to new girl on the block Lynn. I hope she realises what she has let herself in for.

Special thanks to Holly, for noticing that the wording on The Leaky Cauldron sign in the HP film appeared and disappeared. It wasn't until the third time I saw the film that I noticed.

Thanks to all who have recently reviewed. If I have missed your name from this list, sorry. Every review is read and appreciated. sird0rcascad0gan, RubyTuesday49, Celesta, AVK aka Anastasia, Lynn Rowen, Thieving Magpie, Aravis Black, Britters, JessieAnnPotter, Lily Vance, Antigone, Jive, Sardius-Sky, Lily Evans, The Jade Princess, Rachel, Snowlily, Mouse, clara, MeDeA, Andrea Potter, FernWithy, Who Knows, nacho, Sophie W., Ice Queen, Leandra, Brina, vmr

Reviews are always welcome, either here on the FictionAlley Board (click on review), to me at [email protected] or at the Yahoo group for this story. All up and coming chapters will be posted there first. Click HERE to sign up for http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_comingofage


If you would like notification of when chapters are posted, please email me at the following and I will add you to the list: [email protected]

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And finally, a bit of indulgent self-publicity!



Coming to a website near you very soon -- a NEW STORY



RESOLUTION



res.o.lu.tion, noun -- solving of doubts, problems, questions etc. The Concise Oxford Dictionary
A series of vignettes (interspersed with Harry's Journals) chronicling Harry's final six months at Hogwarts. Exams, friends, lovers, Quidditch, the war and Draco all conspire to make graduation seem a very long way away. Slash (Harry/Draco)

Month 1 -- New Year Eve: When Draco decides to go skiing, he doesn't plan on spending the night away from Hogwarts, but then it starts snowing again. Meanwhile, Harry wants nothing but a quiet new year on his own.

Rating: PG, Slash overtones. Forecast: Slash becoming stronger, possibly PG13!

Available on Schnoogle
and HP_comingofage soon.