Old Dogs, New Tricks

Harry woke with his mouth feeling like an ashtray. He soon realised that this was because there was a cigarette stub lodged in his lower jaw.

"Harry! Get up, you lazy sod!"

Harry stood slowly and focused on the room around him. It was his office, and bedroom for God knows how many years. It confused Harry how Fleur had enough money to have her own apartment.

"Harry!"

"Alright, Fleur...Alright..."

The phone rang. Harry clutched his head and tried in vain to remember whether he had drunk anything the night before. Tenderly he picked up the receiver.

"Yeah?"

"Harry, my dear friend. How have you been?"

Harry stood straight, and looked around the room.

"It's time. There's an address on your desk. Go there."

The phone went dead. Harry looked to the desk, and picked up the Post-It note that was stuck there. There was indeed an address on it. How...

The door burst open, and Fleur stepped in.

"Who was that?"

"Riddle. I have to go." Harry strode rather forcefully out of the door. Fleur turned and picked up her coat.

"Where are we going?"

Harry snatched her coat away and threw it back onto the chair. "You aren't going anywhere. I am going alone."

"But..."

"You'll get in the way. It's too dangerous."

Fleur's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean? I thought you were taking pictures."

Harry was already in the lift, and closing the door. "I'll phone you when it's over."

"Harry Potter, if you shut that d-"

The door closed, and the lift went down. At the bottom, to ensure his own safety, Harry propped the janitor's mop into the 'Hold Door Open' button. Fleur could not know where he was going.

* * *

The woman sat in a car outside of the four-storey office building that was Harry Potter's last known place of residence. She was beginning to resent her job, despite that fact that she had wanted to have such a job since her fourth year at Hogwarts. Of course, back then; she thought she would be doing more witch-like things, not sitting in a Ford Escort waiting for Mr. Potter to come out so she could follow him. She was tempted to blow something up with the wand in the glove compartment, but she thought better of it.

Suddenly she saw a determined, black haired figure step out of the building. It was the first time the woman had seen Harry's hair combed and styled. It had seemed an impossible feat, back at Hogwarts. We all had to change, she thought.

She tried to start the car, but it refused, whining and groaning in disapproval.

"Bloody...Muggle...cars!" she screamed, slamming her head against the steering wheel, setting the horn off.

By the time the woman could be bothered to lift her head, Harry Potter had gone, and had been replaced by a silvery haired woman she thought she recognised. Only this woman was coming straight towards the car.

The disgruntled Escort owner hurriedly reached for her glove compartment, which of course was jammed and showed no sign of opening. By this time, the woman who was undoubtedly Fleur Delacour had a gun pointed through the window and into her face.

"Haven't seen you in a long time," Fleur said calmly.

"Likewise."

"If you'd step outside please. I think we should have a chat."

The woman nodded dejectedly, and stepped out of the car. It had not been a good week.

***

Harry continued down the alleyway, making his way quickly to the address on the note. How did it get into his office? Ron had been there, Fleur had been there...how could anyone have slipped past? Unless Riddle was actually Malfoy. Or worse, he was actually Ron. Or Fleur.

Harry mentally shook himself. Idiot! They were all in the room when Riddle called!

Harry found himself outside the address. It was not a house he wanted to do this at. It was a three-storey house; each additional floor looked like it had been added as an afterthought. A sign over the front door bore the names Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.

"Oh God," Harry said quietly, "please not them. Anyone but them."

Harry's mobile rang in his pocket. He snapped it open quickly.

"Anyone but them? Anyone?"

Harry looked around, at all the windows. He couldn't see a single onlooker.

"Where are you?"

"I'm everywhere. Pick up the briefcase."

Harry suddenly noticed a briefcase sitting in front of the gate. He reached out and opened it carefully. Inside were Euro notes, neatly stacked and bounded.

"Half now, half later. Go around the back."

Obediently, Harry walked around the back of the house, keeping away from the windows. He crept up the stairs at the back of the house and crouched at the back door, facing the house.

"Where now?" he asked gruffly.

"Turn around."

Harry turned, slowly. Sitting on the swing, facing away from Harry, was a freshly shaven figure with bright red military-grade short hair.

"No. No!"

"If he doesn't die, someone else will," said Riddle. "No mistakes, Harry. I will know. I am everywhere."

"No!"

"You said anyone but them. This is someone else, is it not?" It sounded like Riddle found the whole ordeal terribly funny.

"Use your wand. We don't want to get messy."

Harry pulled out his wand, and scanned the rest of the garden. There were two tall trees in each corner, and nothing else except the swing. Ron still hadn't moved.

"Three..."

Harry stared at one of the trees. The other had plenty of birds in, but something about the tree on the right had scared the birds off...

"Two..."

Ron had spotted Harry. "Harry?" he said, puzzled. "Harry?"

"One..."

"Harry? What are you..."

"KILL HIM, HARRY! KILL HIM!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

The world disappeared in a flash of green light, and the only sound was the rushing wings of birds.

The world returned, and Harry got up. So did Ron. Slowly, a man toppled out of the right hand tree.

"Run!" shouted Harry. Confused, Ron did as he was told. It sounded like someone had woken up in the house.

Snatching the briefcase, Harry got up and ran after Ron out of the house. He caught up with his old friend and directed him into the alleyway.

"Harry!" shouted Ron, still running, "what the fuck is going on!"

Harry started to slow down, when he felt they were far enough away. He couldn't help thinking: had he killed Riddle. It seemed unlikely...

Not looking where he was going, Harry shot out of the alleyway and into the side of a telephone box. Recovering quickly, he opened his eyes and looked through the glass and into eyes he had seen before. Eyes that used to have an intelligent sparkle, and now contained fiery malice.

"Hermione?"

"Harry Potter," Hermione Granger said in a haughty tone. "I have been looking for you."

"Not now," said Harry gruffly. Ron had caught up behind him.

"Who...oh..."

Ron was looking daggers at Hermione, Hermione was looking daggers at Harry, and Harry was remembering that he had left his mobile at the scene when the phone in the telephone box started to ring. Hermione turned to get it, but Harry pushed her out of the way.

"It's for me."

Harry picked up the phone, ignoring Hermione's protests. "Riddle?"

"Oh dear. I should have known. You kill 258 people, Mr Potter, and you can't kill one measly Weasely? Well, as I said, someone has to die."

"Wait..."

"You will have probably noticed that the briefcase in your hand has become considerably lighter. It contained disintegrating euro notes. I wonder where I got such a 'tantalising product'? If you need a clue, look to your left."

Harry looked to his left, knowing what he would see. At the end of the street was Fred and George's factory.

"It is so convenient that so much of their produce is flammable. I think one blast could take the whole place down."

"No," Harry whispered, looking back at Ron, who was mouthing 'What's going on?'

"As the proverb goes, a Weasley in the hand is worth two in the factory..."

"No!" screamed Harry, pressing his hand against the window, as if reaching towards the factory. Not them.

"KABOOM."

The phone went dead at the same instant the factory exploded.

***

Fleur looked at her guest, who was tied to Harry's chair. "Tea?" she said sweetly.

The woman wriggled slightly. "No, thanks. Look, couldn't we just talk..."

"We are talking."

The woman sighed. "I mean, without me being tied up."

Fleur shook her head. "I'm afraid that is just not possible. I'm sure Harry will be along soon."

Fleur moved towards the door.

"Will he be happy to see me, do you think?" asked the woman. She almost sounded nervous.

"Oh, I expect so. After all, he hasn't heard from Cho Chang in years. Yes, a pleasant surprise indeed."

With that Fleur slammed the door shut, leaving Cho Chang struggling with her bonds.