Guilty Until Proven Innocent

Chapter 1:

Shadows at the Malfoy Manor

A hooded figure walked the streets. A black cloak blew around the person's knees as they desperately tried to battle the storm. Rain blasted into their face and thunder roared over their head. The figure avoided streetlights and stuck to the shadows. It walked quickly and quietly, its feet strangely, making no noise against the concrete footpath.

The rain and wind changed direction and blasted the figure from the side, nearly tipping it over. It kept walking, its feet walked into puddle after puddle but it took no notice. The figure never raised a hand to brush away the water, nor did they ever stop to take shelter. Anyone watching would have wondered what sort of person would be out on a night like this. This person was looking for something.

Shortly after, they found what they were looking for. The figure had arrived at a great, black iron gate. The gate had only a simple lock but the figure knew there were different sort of locks keeping unwanted people out, or keeping them in.

Not knowing how to get in it looked for an opening. There was none. Not wanting to touch the gate, the figure pulled out something from its cloak. To what may have looked like a stick to most people, was actually a wand.

The figure aimed the wand at the gates and muttered a simple word. Even someone standing right next to the figure would have been unable to hear the word, because the wind took their words away.

From the wand erupted a small red jet of light that hit one of the bars of the gate. It seemed to be absorbed by the gate and then seconds later, the jet discharged from the gate and aimed back at the figure. Acting quickly the figure stepped aside and watched as the jet passed it and hit a bush across the road. The bush caught alight quickly, in a brilliant purple flame. With a wave of the figure's wand, the flame went out and the bush returned to normal.

After trying several times and getting the same response the figure gave up and tried looking for a new way in. There was no way it could get through without having to touch the black iron.

Sighing, the figure knew it had to resort to its last option. Looking around quickly and making sure no one was in view the figure stepped into a large shadow, caused by an over hanging oak tree. Minutes later another figure appeared. A beautiful brown eagle stepped out of the shadows. Spreading its wings, it flew calmly over the gate and landed lightly on the ground.

Transforming back into the hooded figure it started walking up the long concrete driveway. The only evidence left behind of this transformation was a single brown feather.

Every tree the figure passed seemed to glare disapprovingly. Every time the wind blew and caused a tree's branches to shiver the figure would look up in alarm, as if expecting something.

It walked past without event.

Every step the figure took seemed to take an eternity and the driveway seemed to go on forever. The wet gravel crunched under foot and the unrelenting rain never ceased. Only when a shape appeared above the trees did the figure know it was making progress.

Coming around the corner it spotted the house it had been looking for.

Thunder continued to roll overhead and a fork of lighting flashed behind the house, causing the figure to step back and the house to be illuminated. For a spilt second the figure caught sight of windows, covered by black curtains, black walls running with water, and the endless height and enormity of the house. Gargoyles on the roof glared angrily at the figure and shadows seemed to dance definitely.

Trying desperately to ignore the growing fear in the pit of its stomach the figure reminded itself that there was nothing to fear from this house. What it would face inside would be the real test of bravery and strength.

Taking in a big breath the figure started to walk up the stone steps. By the time the cover of the roof had protected the figure from the rain, it was creating its own puddle, as water dripped of its clothes and cloak.

Shaking from the cold wind and the dampness of its clothes the figure stepped in front of the double doors and raised a small white hand to knock. Its knuckles had barely knocked three times before the door was opened.

The bright light of the house cast a warm glow outside onto the steps and a small house elf stood in the door. The male house elf had the usual pointed ears and big eyes. But this elf was wearing a simple outfit consisting of: black pin-stripped pants and a white, button-up top.

He looked the figure up and down haughtily before raising its noise in the air and disappearing with a small pop.

The figure waited outside, not wanting to step inside the house without permission, considering it was dripping wet.

The wind increased and the rain beat down harder, before the house elf finally returned. This time another form accompanied the house elf. Walking up behind the house elf was the figure of Draco Malfoy. White, blonde hair gleaming in the light, the figure took in the smart clothes and the small tip of ebony wood poking out from the pocket of his jeans. Nothings changed, remarked the figure to itself.

Draco Malfoy was now looking the figure up and down with the identical typical smirk.

"Who are you? What do you want? And how the bloody hell did you get past the gate?" Malfoy demanded rudely. The figure smiled at the use of words, glad that the hood was up and that he couldn't see its smile.

Biting its tongue so it wouldn't answer, it pretended not to hear Malfoy's words and stared at the spec of mud of its black shoes.

Getting impatient Malfoy started tapping his foot. When he didn't receive an answer he cocked his head slightly to the left. A wind came from somewhere in the house and hit the figure full in the face, causing the hood to fly down and rest on the figure's back. The figured looked up and stared the young Malfoy right in the eye.

The usual cool expression of Draco Malfoy changed from a smirk to one of shock as he viewed the person in front of him. Shock though, was replaced very quickly with one of superiority and scorn.

"Granger," he sneered.