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Darkness Within The Light	By : crimson96 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8759 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
Author's Note: A very big "thank you" to jujukitty, maladymystere, and to Skye Your reviews mean so much to Eris and myself, that I hope other members here will read and leave feedback on the story.. Chapter 20 is finally here. It is a fairly lengthy chapter, but a very good chapter, I believe. Eris and myself worked very long and hard on this chapter, as it begins to set up the next few chapters that are currently being worked on. So I hope that everyone has a bit of time to read, and enjoy!

Chapter 20: Innocence Hunted

Samuel McKnight eased himself down the wooden stairs from the loft above the storeroom. The steps groaned under his bulk, each with its own distinct voice. He had listened to the same song of shrieking boards each day for years now, and each day he had made the same promise to himself. Soon, he would build newer steps, once he made enough money from the shop to do so. He crossed the room and twisted the sign on the door from "closed" to "open". His aged hand rubbed his jaw and neck, feeling the coarse bristles of his unshaven face.

"Forgot to shave again this morning," he muttered as he walked behind the counter, "customers are gonna think I'm some hairy old goat." A raspy chuckle escaped him, followed by the old man's wheezing and coughing until he finally spit out a mouthful of morning phlegm.

As he wiped his lips clean, his eyes spotted the pouch that contained the gold coins that he had purchased from the boys the previous day. He grumbled as he snatched up the bag and fished out one of the coins with his arthritic fingers. "Bloody old fool you are Samuel, taking advantage of those two boys like that," he said to the empty storeroom while holding the single coin up to the light and noticing its dazzling shine.

"Still, who in the bloody hell would want a coin like this? Probably can't sell 'em as they are. Have to get 'em melted down," he said as he placed the coin back into the pouch and tossed it onto the countertop. "That takes some of the value off 'em. Almost makes it a fair deal."

However, that wasn't true. He should have given the boys at least twice what he paid them, even assuming that the coins would need to be recast. He had not slept well, that night because his mind kept reminding him that he had taken advantage of the two strange yokels.

The one hardly seemed to know his head from his arse, and he had a sick mum to boot. You know that eventually you will pay for your wrong doings, you old codger.

"Business is business and I'm a hell of a good businessman!" he shouted to himself as if trying to will away his nagging conscience.

The door to the shop opened, and Samuel turned around to greet the customer in his usual business voice, only this time he stopped before a single word could escape his mouth. The customer had the same long robes as the boys from yesterday, but took the look a bit farther by wearing his hair long, too. Judging from the man's purposeful scowl, Samuel thought he might be the bloke with the sick wife come to complain about the price his boy got for the coins. Samuel opted for a grin and decided to see if he could get a smile out of the stranger. That would be a start. "I really have to find out where the ruddy-hell this Halloween party is that you lot keep coming from! Halloween in June-ha! Any excuse for a pint though-"

The cloaked stranger held up a hand, and Samuel fell silent as a jolt of fear went through his body. The stranger could be carrying anything under those bloody robes- a gun or a knife, probably a sword to go with the getup he was wearing. In this line of work, Samuel had seen his share of dodgy characters, and the man in front of him was worse than any of them. He had a look in his eye that said he's as soon kill you as look at you, and not because he wanted the money in your wallet, or even because you looked at him cross-eyed. Like some movie villain, this one wanted to kill you just for the fun of it.

Samuel mopped his brow with the back of his hand. He wished the stranger would just say what he wanted. Desperate to fill the silence, he swallowed hard and said, "How...how can I help you sir? Would you care to look around and buy something, or maybe you have something that you would like to sell?"

"Enough, old man!" the stranger's voice was deep and gravely, as if he were growling every word. "I've not come here to buy any of your things! I seek information. " He slowly walked to the counter, and pulled out two pictures from the inside of his cloak. "Have you seen these two boys recently?"

Samuel looked down at the two moving photographs and gasped when he saw that the images moved. A dark-haired boy held up some sort of trophy, grinning and waving the golden cup. In the other photo, a sullen teenager swatted a lock of platinum blond hair out of his face as he draped his arms around a plain brunette girl. Samuel had bought and sold his share of gadgets, but he had never seen anything like this. Curiosity got the better of him, and he reached out a hand to touch the paper-thin displays. "Say, are those a new kind of photographs? I've heard folks talk about the new digital ones. They say it makes the pictures look realistic."

The stranger wrapped his knuckles like an angry schoolteacher. "Never mind that, focus on the pictures! Have you seen either of the boys?"

Once more, Samuel looked at the photographs, ignoring the technology and looking only at the people. The faces of the boys matched those of the pair that had come in the day before.

So much for being from a backwards village, the old man thought wryly. And so much for the sick mum, too, I'll wager.

The two young men had been scared, he realized. Not just worried about a sick relative, but truly afraid for their own lives, as much so as any of the sad bastards who hawked watches and rings to pay bookies and dealers. Samuel looked up at the stranger, deciding what to say. Even a junkyard dog had more feeling in its eyes than this bloke; looking at him was like locking eyes with a snake.

Samuel snorted and waved a hand casually. "I see plenty of weird people walking up and down the street outside. Hell, in this business, most o' my customers are a bit off. I guarantee you, though, if I'd seen two boys wearing Halloween capes here in the middle of the summer, like yourself, I would have remembered 'em."

A gloved hand reached out and pocketed the photographs. The strange man closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. His nostrils flared. Tilting his chin up, he inhaled in short, sharp breaths, like a hound catching a scent.

"You lie old man!" The stranger said, barring his teeth in a snarl.

"If you don't get the hell out of my store, right now, I will contact the authorities and they can deal with a crazed sort like yourself!" Samuel said as he bustled toward the stairs.

"Imperio." The word came from the cloaked stranger in a deep yet clear command, and Samuel stopped in place, one foot on the bottom step. All at once, everything became clear as only one thing mattered; serving the man who stood behind him. A part of Samuel felt afraid, but also he felt a wonderful release of all responsibilities.

"Turn around," the stranger growled. Samuel felt his feet respond as his mind sang out with the joy of being able to do such a simple thing for his master.

The stranger held a stick in his hand, but Samuel only got a brief glimpse of it before being tucked away in the man's sleeve.

"Now," the deep voice started, "I know that you have lied to me. I can smell their scent in this room." The old man quivered slightly as he stood in place, as if bound by some irresistible magic. "Why did they come here?"

"They sold some coins, sir!" Samuel answered, the words bursting out of him. He raised a hand and pointed to the pouch behind the counter.

The stranger grinned. "Coins, eh? Bring it to me."

The old man's hands grabbed the pouch, relishing the feel of the gold through the fabric, before placing the pouch into the outstretched, gloved hand.

"Very good, Muggle," he said and placed the pouch into his robe pocket. "Now, did either of the boys say where they were going next?"

"N-no, sir." Samuel wanted to weep, having disappointed this man whose word was law, whose voice was truth, and whose will was everything.

"No clues, no conversation about what they were going to buy with the money you gave them?"

"It was for the one's sick mum. They're from up north somewhere, the other one said." Samuel felt like a guitar string stretched taught and waiting to be plucked. He longed for another command to fulfill, ached for it more than he had ever wanted a woman, famished for a meal, or longed for a bed to lie down on.

"Our business is almost complete." The man's eyes glanced to the wall where the old revolver hung, its polished handle glittering in the morning light. "I always did like the things Muggles built to kill each other with. Do you have the bullets to this?" the man asked as he pointed toward the gun.

Samuel nodded, reaching down behind the counter and picking up the small, metallic case.

"Good, now unlock it, and take one of the bullets that can be loaded into the gun."

Samuel reached into his trouser pocket and produced a small keychain that had two silver keys on it. Swiftly, he inserted the key into the lock and picked out one bullet without looking down at his hands. Wordlessly, the stranger's will flowed into him. He was led toward the revolver as though his feet were not even touching the ground. Upon reaching the gun, he expertly flicked his wrist, opening the chamber of the revolver.

"Place the bullet into the chamber, and go upstairs. There, you will point it at your face and pull the trigger," the husky voice commanded.

Samuel nodded agreement, although some tiny part of his mind shrieked in protest. His finger twitched in anticipation of the act. He reached the stairs and walked up them without any trouble, as if he were gliding upon the wood. If the stairs groaned under him, he didn't hear.

The man stood in the storeroom alone now as he listened to the footsteps above. Seconds later, he heard the clicking noise of the revolver's hammer locking into place, and then the click of the firing pin releasing. He wickedly smiled in anticipation as the sounds of the process repeated, and yet once more there was no sound of the revolver discharging. The sound of an empty bullet chamber came once more from above. The man hastened to the bottom step, where he stopped, waiting to hear the hammer click into place once again. A loud report echoed throughout the building followed by the heavy thud of Samuel's body falling onto the wooden floor.

An evil smile formed upon the stranger's face as he quickly waved his wand at the door sign, causing the "open" sign to read "closed." Upon closing the door to the small shop, the man turned, whispered, "Defigo" and heard the lock click into place. He looked around to make sure that no Muggle witnessed him exiting the shop and to make sure that no Aurors were in sight. Satisfied that he was unseen, he once more inhaled deeply and set off in the direction that his sense told him would bring him closer to his objective.

The same light that had shown through the window of McKnight's Emporium now peeked through the curtains of the hotel room where Harry lay on his back, asleep. His left hand lay beside his body, palm open, while his right hand was loosely balled on his sternum. A soft rustling sound from the door brought Harry out of his light sleep. Unsure of what the sound was, but knowing that it could be a possible Death Eater attack, he reached for his glasses and wand. Swiftly, he scanned the area around the door trying to find the source of the sound before finally noticing a small piece of paper that had been pushed under the door.

Harry carefully got out of the bed, making sure not to disturb Draco who slept through the intrusion. His fingers twitched as he touched the paper, still anticipating the note to be from Lucius Malfoy or a Death Eater.

Harry exhaled, and his tension eased as he saw the feminine scrawl.

"Checkout is at 9am," Harry whispered. He glanced at the clock that sat on the small table beside the bed. "Well, we still have a little bit of time left. I might as well let you sleep a bit longer."

Gently, Harry eased himself back into the area that had been designated his, and lay there staring at the ceiling. He tried to think about what their next move would be. Harry knew that they could not continue to stay in Muggle London with the bit of money that they had.

"Gringots," he whispered trying to come up with some kind of a solution to their problem. "No, we can't go into Diagon Alley. Lucius would have someone there waiting for us."

He deeply exhaled as he continued to delete options from the list inside of his mind. Finally, he settled on one option that he knew would be the most difficult one to implement. No matter how hard Draco protested, and he would protest, Harry knew that they had no choice. However, having to tell Draco that he would have to go and spend time at Ron Weasley's house was about as appealing as trying to tame a blast-ended skrewt. Harry decided he would put off the bad news until Draco was in one of his rare good moods.

On the other side of the pillow barrier, which was close to falling down, Draco mumbled and tossed to his left while extending his right arm forward across the pillows. The Slytherin's hand did not touch Harry, but was mere inches from Harry's face, allowing him the opportunity to closely inspect every line etched onto Draco's hand.

Being careful not to wake Draco, Harry lightly traced the lines on his hand with his own finger and admired the curvature of each one. Harry had grabbed Draco's hand before to apparate, however he had never had the time to look closely and admire it. Softly, he placed his hand to Draco's and found that the Slytherin's was slightly longer and wider, but not by much. The feel of their fingers and hands touching like this sent a wave of pleasure and sensuality through Harry. In his mind, he could easily see the two of them holding hands and walking along a beach somewhere deeply in love, and not having to be worried about Lucius Malfoy or any dark wizard to threaten them.

Slowly, Harry raised himself up to a sitting position in the bed so that he could see Draco. He had never allowed himself to stare so closely before. Even when the two of them had been pressed together in the washroom stall, he had been afraid to look Draco in the face for too long, as if Draco would somehow be able to read his thoughts through his eyes. Now, he could appreciate every detail of the Slytherin's features. Blond hair lay scattered on Draco's forehead, making Harry want to run his hands through it and see if it felt as soft as it looked. Harry admired how Draco's mouth was slightly parted as the Slytherin breathed in through his mouth, creating a light, soft snore. Harry wanted to brush his fingertips over those pink lips so badly, even more so he wanted to place his own lips over them and finally be able to know what it felt like to kiss Draco.

"No, better not. At least not yet," Harry whispered as he smiled at Draco's sleeping form. "You would hex me worse than anything if I took advantage of you like that. One day, though, I will do it."

Harry lightly placed Draco's outstretched hand back across the pillows and softly exited the bed to go into the bathroom for his morning shower. Ten minutes later, he opened the door and saw Draco stirring about in the empty bed.

"Draco, come on, it's time to wake up," Harry called from the open door.

"Ugh…bloody Potter, always telling me what to do. Let me sleep a bit longer," Draco muttered while taking one of the pillows and placing it over his head.

Harry stood there smiling at the childish antics: apparently, it was too early in the morning for Draco to wear his aura of invincibility. Harry walked over to the bed and grabbed one of the pillows.

"Hey! Malfoy!" Harry said more loudly before swinging the pillow down onto the other pillow that covered Draco's head.

"Sod off, Potter! I'm trying to sleep!"

"Yeah, well sleep time is over with," Harry playfully said as he continued to swing the pillow. Each blow landed with a satisfying thud.

Quickly, Draco rose from the bed and started to say something to Harry only to be interrupted by a swift hit to his face by the soft pillow that knocked the Slytherin backwards onto the bed.

Harry winced and stifled a laugh. "Sorry. I wasn't expecting you to-"

Harry was unable to finish what he was saying as a white pillow connected with the side of his head and knocked him down onto the mattress beside Draco. The blows continued to come more forcefully as Draco pounded Harry with the pillow.

While Harry had held onto the end of the pillow and swung it at Draco, Draco had jammed his hand into the pillowcase so that each slap had the full force of his arm and hand behind it. Even with the flimsy foam cushioning, the blows stung. Torn between laughing and crying out in pain, Harry grabbed Draco's wrist in order to stop the beating.

"Alright, you win!" Harry panted, grateful for a reprieve.

Draco smirked, enjoying his victory. "Now you know how it feels."

"Yeah, but I didn't hit you as hard." Harry said as he pulled the pillow from Draco's hand and tossed it into the floor. He flexed his shoulder, which had received one of Draco's nastier smacks. "You know how to ruin everything, don't you?"

"Just like you ruined my sleep." Draco shot a longing glance at the bed.

"That's because we have to check out soon. Go take your shower."

"You did leave me some hot water didn't you, Potter?" Draco asked as he got off the bed, brushing right past Harry.

"Maybe," Harry replied as he smirked while Draco stood in the bathroom doorway. "Draco?"

"What, Potter?"

"That was your first pillow fight, wasn't it?"

"Whatever, Potter!" Draco scoffed as he closed the bathroom door.

Harry knew that Draco may have dismissed the incident as childish behavior, but in that one moment, Harry had seen a small happy gleam in those grey-blue eyes.

"Hurry up, you've been in there for almost thirty minutes," Harry said as he tapped on the bathroom door. "It doesn't take that long to bathe off. Besides, you're not dirty."

"Shut it, Potter!" Draco's voice came from the other side of the door as Harry heard the sound of water splashing onto the floor. "I am too dirty. I had to sleep in that germ-infested Muggle bed!"

"You might want to know that I saw a roach in that tub this morning before I took my shower," Harry said as he smiled.

A loud sloshing sound came from the other side of the door as Harry could imagine seeing Draco leap out of the water and onto the towel that lay spread onto the floor. Draco shouted a few obscenities before wailing, "Why didn't you tell me that! I hate bugs!"

Harry was almost in hysterics, but managed to suppress the giggles before answering. "Well, you didn't ask. Anyway, you should be shriveled up enough by now."

The bathroom door wrenched open so quickly that Harry almost fell to the floor. "I ought to kill you for that, Potter!" Draco growled. Harry had to stifle another fit of laughter at the sight of Draco. A second look made Harry decide that the Slytherin looked more sexy than funny. Draco's hair still dripped water onto his white shirt causing it to darken along his shoulders. Other dark spots appeared on Draco's chest and abdomen where the water had soaked through.

"Um, Malfoy?"

"What?"

"You're still wet. You'd better dry off once more," Harry smiled as he took the towel from Draco's hand and placed it onto the blond locks of hair.

"Ugh! Such an idiot," Draco muttered as he whipped around the bathroom door and slammed it shut while Harry stood there beaming.

Draco opened the glass door, as he and Harry entered the office, only to find the same red-haired lady watching the portable television that sat on the edge of the counter.

"Good Morning," Harry said aloud over the volume of the morning BBC news.

The woman turned and briefly smiled at Harry and Draco. "Morning, loves. Did you both sleep well?"

Draco opened his mouth to tell her exactly what he thought of having to stay in a roach-infested cell and having to sleep on grainy sheets with musty-smelling pillows, and worse, to be charged money for the privilege. However, before he could voice his complaints, Harry spoke up, smiling like an idiot. "Yes, we did, thanks."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. Checking out, are you?"

"Yes," Harry answered.

"Alright, I need the key, love."

"Damn!" Harry exclaimed as he felt his pants pockets. "I must have left it in the room." He turned to Draco. "Just stay here with her, and I'll run back and get it."

"No, dear…" the lady started, but stopped as Harry exited the office without hearing what she had begun to say.

"Typical," Draco scoffed while turning around to look at the woman after watching Harry leave.

"I take it he's always like that?"

"You could say that. He always has to do what's right, eve if it's a little thing."

"And I take it that you wouldn't?" she said placing her hands upon her hips.

"What, leave the key in the room? You are going to clean the room, so why bother going back for the key, it's in the room," Draco replied. "Somewhere."

"That's not the point. It's the principle of the matter that counts."

The red haired woman titled her head, and gave Draco a stern, maternal look. He wanted to scream at her that she wasn't his mother, that she had no right to look at him that way, but that would be "calling attention," so he looked down at the floor, shuffling his feet.

"You know," she said softly. "You should hang onto a guy like that, love."

"What? No, you've got it all wrong we're not-" Draco started.

The lady raised her hand to stop Draco. "It's alright. Besides, you two make a lovely couple." She sighed deeply. "I'm Janine, and yourself?"

"Draco. And we're not a couple." He cursed himself for revealing his real name, but it wasn't his fault; she had caught him off guard with her blasted knowing looks and accusations.

She looked down at the registry before raising her gaze back to Draco. "Interesting name. Well, doesn't matter what's written here, anyway. You both seem like decent guys, and you're both cute as can be."

"Will you please stop-"

"Saying the truth?" Janine smiled, and Draco's pale face flushed red as the blood rushed to his cheeks. "Don't worry, I've seen all sorts of people in life."

"I'll bet," Draco muttered under his breath. He glanced around the cheaply furnished office, imagining all of the lowlifes and deviants that must walk through here. He wondered what sort of depravity had taken place in the bed he had just shared with Potter and then decided not to pursue that line of thinking.

Janine's eyebrows narrowed at Draco's response. "You come from money, don't you?"

"I…I…that's nothing to you," Draco sputtered as the surprise hit him.

"I can tell. You have an aura about you that says so. It's the way you conduct yourself; the way that you hold your head up, tells me all that I need to know."

Draco snorted and crossed his arms as he knew a lecture was about to come from the woman. He wondered how much longer he would have to put up with this Muggle woman. Where was Potter?

"Would you believe that I once had money as well? Plenty of it. My husband was the president of a very successful company. At that time, we had everything. My boys had everything that they ever wanted. I didn't come from money. I married into it, and then after fourteen years of marriage, it was taken away from me. So, I had to do what any devoted mother would do to continue to raise my sons," Janine finished as she raised her hands upwards toward the ceiling. "It's not much but I was able to work two jobs and make enough money to send my sons to university."

"Congratulations," Draco muttered sarcastically.

"Draco, whether or not you want to listen to me, I don't care, but you had better listen to this before you get knocked off of your pedestal of wealth and money. The one that you are with-"

"Harry," Draco said without thinking. "And I'm not with him."

"Harry," Janine said ignoring Draco's dismissal. "I can see it in him. He is what my mother always called 'a keeper'. Those are the type of people that you can learn to love and grow old with."

Draco tightened his face as if he had just swallowed a large amount of vomit. "Ugh! Merlin's beard! I haven't had breakfast yet; I don't need to picture Potter as an old man."

Janine smiled and continued. "Don't be fooled by money and wealth. Don't be fooled by the seduction of its power. That was my mistake. I saw money and that's all that I saw. Harry, he doesn't come from money, but I see that he's good and has a heart about him. Sometimes you have to choose what you want in life; money or happiness. Just remember that you can't always have both. Sometimes you must sacrifice one, in order to have the other. It's your choice to make, and you must choose by what your heart tells you."

The jingling of the bell over the door sounded as Harry came back into the small office, panting heavily. "Sorry it took so long, but the key somehow found its way under the bed. I guess it got there this morning during our pillow fight."

"Potter!" Draco groaned as his cheeks now flushed deep red.

"What?" Harry asked, his smirk belying his feigned innocence. Obviously, he enjoyedhumiliating Draco so much that he didn't care if he embarrassed himself in the process.

"That's alright, love. You two go on and have a nice day. I will tidy up the room," Janine said as she took the key from Harry's fingers.

"Thank you," Harry said as he walked over to the door followed by Draco. "Oh, one last question, is there someplace where we could go and talk alone?"

"The park is just a few blocks east of here. Not many people are sitting there at this time of the morning, and besides, it has a lovely view of the London Eye."

"Thanks," Harry said as he stepped outside of the building.

"Draco?" Janine called.

"Remember what we talked about," Janine spoke in her motherly tone as she wagged the room key toward Draco and then in Harry's direction.

"Muggles," Draco scoffed and pushed by Harry.

"What was she talking about, and how did she know your name?" Harry asked once they were outside and walking along the sidewalk.

"Shut up, Potter. She tricked me, saying stupid things until I couldn't think straight. So, yes, she knows my name. What are you going to do? Try a memory charm?"

Harry glanced back over his shoulder, frowning, and then shook his head. "No. I won't risk hurting her."

"As I thought," Draco snorted, but a tension he hadn't realized was there disappeared. As much as he hated the thought of that woman picturing him and Potter growing old together, he hadn't wanted Potter to hex her.

"Just be more careful from now on," Harry said. "Come on, let's try to find someplace to eat, and then find that park to talk about where we need to go."

A half hour later, the bell above the door jingled, signaling a new customer to Janine. She looked up from her magazine, half expecting to see Harry and Draco standing in front of her once again. Only this time, it wasn't the cute queer boys who stood before her. At first, she thought the stranger was one of those ruggedly handsome types. With his broad shoulders, long hair, and impressive height, he could have been on the cover of a paperback romance. His clothes added to the effect; they looked like something out of a storybook. That impression lasted just until she looked him in the eyes, at which point she decided he'd be more likely to appear in a mug shot than on a book cover. His eyes seemed to look through her skin, as if he were deciding which of her bones to break first.

"What can I do for you?" she said as she closed the magazine with trembling fingers. "Get you a room for the day?"

The man stepped forward and withdrew two pictures from the inside of his robes. "Have you seen these two young men?"

Janine peered at the pictures and decided she must be going bonkers; the images seems to move on the paper. She looked from the pictures to the man holding then and pursed her lips. "What's it to you?"

"I am…a friend of the family." He tapped Draco's picture with his dirty fingernail. "This one's father asked me to bring him home."

"What for? Is he in some kind of trouble?"

"It's none of your business, woman," the man said as he bared his yellow teeth.

"Alright, look, I don't want any trouble. You look like the kind of guy that can cause a lot of it," Janine said as she slipped her right hand under the edge of the counter and around the handle of the pistol that she kept loaded. "If I tell you where they are, will you promise me that you will not harm them?"

"I have no intention of harming either one," he said as he placed the photographs back into his pocket. "Now, where are they?"

Janine took a deep breath and licked her lips, stalling as her mind raced. She could guess why Draco's father wanted them brought in; no doubt he disapproved of their relationship and wanted to put his son on a "better" path. Damned if she'd help with that!

Unconsciously, Janine's eyes glanced upward and to the left, knowing in her mind that was the direction that Harry and Draco had gone when they left. She hoped that the stranger would not notice her gaffe as she forced her eyes to look to the right, trying not to blink too much. "Room seven. They're still in the room," she said as her right hand slipped under the edge of the counter and gripped the hidden pistol.

The man walked to the edge of the counter, and Janine tightened her grip on the gun in case he made a grab for her. Her hand shook, and she wondered if she would even be able to hit him from point blank range. That assumed she could bring herself to pull the trigger. Before she could decide whether to shoot him, the man's vice-like grip was around her hand, pulling it away from the loaded weapon.

"Muffliato," he whispered the gibberish word in a serious voice and then pulled the pistol from under the counter and pointed it at her.

"You can have what's in the register!" she told him desperately. "I won't call the police or anything. You can trust me." She backed into the corner, cradling her wrist and wondering if he had broken it with his bare hand.

Ignoring her, he pulled down the shades on the windows, and said another nonsense word while facing the door. After he said the word, the lock on the door clicked. She was now sealed in here with that- that creature.

"You bastard!" She spat at him, spraying the back of his dark, dirty hair with tiny flecks of saliva.

"I have been called much worse," the man said as he ran his hands through his hair where the saliva was. He then brought them to his nose, sniffed, and licked his fingers clean. You see, I know that you are lying to me. I don't need to ask you, because your eyes have already told me." Holding the gun casually in his left hand, the stranger swiped with his right, catching her throat in the same grip that had crushed her wrist. Her lungs strained to pull air through her constricted wind pipe, and each breath burned. "If you tell me what I need to know, truthfully, then I will let you live."

Tears streamed down Janine's cheek as she smelled the stench from his breath, and the rancid odor of the man's body and clothing. He reeked of old burned firewood and dried blood. All that Janine could think about were her own sons, and seeing them alive once again. Her arms flailed helplessly. She reached for the gun, but the man's long arms held it just out of reach. "The boys," she squeaked, "they went that way!" she whispered hoarsely, pointing with her left hand.

"There, you see," the stranger began as he released her throat and patted her on her back. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" He continued to pat her softly as she cried. The light touch of his hands made her skin crawl. She turned away from him and pressed her forehead to the wall.

Janine felt the hand go away from her back, and for a moment she thought that he was about to leave. Before she could say a prayer of thanks, she felt his powerful fingers grip the back of her neck, sending ripples of agony through her body. She reached behind herself trying to dig her, trying to dig her fingernails into any flesh that she could find. "You said you'd let me live!" Her voice came in short bursts as the pressure around her neck increased.

"I lied!" The man whispered as he dragged her toward the counter like a farmer carrying a turkey to the chopping block. He lowered her down so that her face nearly touched the cracked Formica, then jerked back sharply. She had time to draw one painful breath before he thrust forward, crushing her neck against the sharp edge of the counter. She heard a sickening crack, and one final image of the two boys flashed through her mind as the world exploded in shards of light and darkness.

"Ugh, Draco! Please try to understand what I am saying to you," Harry said sternly as he ran both of his hands through his hair, tugging in frustration. "It's not that difficult, if only you'd listen to reason and stop being so damn stubborn." Using every scrap of his self-control, he kept his voice low, hoping no one in the park would hear them. They had stopped to sit on a wrought iron bench near one of the jogging paths.

Draco crossed his arms and puffed his chest forward. "Say what you want, Potter, but I am not going along with your idea. I wouldn't be caught dead there!"

"If I had that pillow in my hands right now you would be," Harry muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Sod it, Malfoy! You heard me!" Harry shouted. Several people who were walking by the arguing couple turned and went the other way.

"Stop it, Potter. Look, you are causing people to stare at us," Draco said, his cheeks coloring.

"Alright look, one last time, and don't interrupt me!" Harry stated while pointing his finger at Draco. "We have been here for the last forty-five minutes arguing about this, and we have to decide on something. We're almost out of Muggle money, and we can't go into Diagon Alley."

Harry looked around before he leaned closer and lowered his voice to a near whisper. "Knowing your father, he already has someone out looking for us. You know as well as I do that Lucius tried to kill us both. Surely, it would reason that he has sent another Death Eater or a Snatcher out to places that we both know, like my uncle's home and the woods where Ron, Hermione and I were captured."

A quick mental pain flashed through Harry's brain as he remembered the alley where the trio had apparated to and the café in which they had had their first battle with the Death Eaters last year. In his imagination, Harry saw more Death Eaters lurking in the alley and making their way toward McKnight's Emporium. Harry quickly shook his head, ridding himself of those possibilities.

"So we stay away from those places," Draco shrugged. "I don't see what's so difficult about that."

"And we go where?" Harry asked. "We don't have enough money to keep staying in hotels. You want to sleep in the woods with the dirt and the bugs? Because unless you're prepared to do that, the only place we have left to run is the Burrow."

"The Burrow! I think I would rather take my chances fighting off a rabid hippogriff," Draco said, his lip curling in contempt.

"Shh…shut up, Malfoy," Harry quickly muttered while peering over Draco's shoulder at the other park bench that had just recently became occupied by a long-haired person in a shapeless black garment.

"What? What is it?" Draco questioned as he twisted around on the bench and looked at the man who had begun to feed the pigeons bread crumbs.

Draco scoffed as he turned back to face Harry. "You're mental, Potter! You actually think that old man is following us. Look at him, he's just some crazy guy with a heavy coat on in the middle of the summer. Maybe he thinks it's going to rain?"

Harry glared at Draco. "Will you shut up? He'll hear what you're saying," Harry hissed. "Sometimes I think Hermione was right about you being as thickheaded as Ron, if not bloody well worse."

Draco's nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed, reminding Harry of Lucius, or of Hermione when she was really upset at him and Ron. "Fine!" Draco whispered, "I am tired of playing your stupid, little games, Potter. If you want to run around living in your paranoia, then go ahead, but you're not dragging me into it."

Harry coldly stared at Draco before answering. "If you had the darkest wizard trying to kill you since you were a baby, you would be a bit cautious about people just appearing like that around us. Open your eyes, and use your brain, Draco. What Muggle would dress like that in the middle of the summer?"

"I tell you what, Potter; there is one way to prove this. I will go over there and confront him, since you are too scared to do it," Draco said as he raised himself off the bench.

Harry grabbed the tail of Draco's shirt to keep him from walking over to the man. "Don't be such an idiot, Malfoy! If you pull your wand on him, here in the middle of a Muggle park you will have every Ministry official and Auror here within five minutes. You could forget the trial and say hello to Azkban this evening, if you do that."

"I wasn't going to pull my wand on him. I was only going to speak to him," Draco hissed.

"Oh, yeah, and what were you going to say to him? Hello, excuse me sir but are you a wizard?" Harry asked. "Look, here is what we will do. We will go somewhere else and see if he follows us, preferably someplace crowded where he won't dare make a move."

Draco scoffed. "Fine, whatever you want to do. I don't care anymore."

"Let's go this way toward the Eye." Harry said as he released Draco's shirt. "Look, just act normal, and don't run. The area around the Eye should be full of tourists, and hopefully we can lose him in the crowd."

"It's all nonsense, but whatever Potter, you are just making an arse out of yourself."

"Yeah, maybe I am, and maybe I'm not, but I have a bad feeling about that guy," Harry said as he glanced at the strange man that who had finished feeding the pigeons and now sat on the bench, his hands clasped together between his knees, looking down at the green grass. "Come on, let's go."

"Go, where? Which direction?" Draco asked as they got up from the bench and proceeded to walk away from the park, and the strange man.

"That way," Harry said as he prodded Draco's lower back with hand, "toward the Eye."

"What is the London Eye? Another ridiculous Muggle thing?" Draco asked.

"It's a big wheel that has compartments that will take you up so you can see a view of all of London, and right now it is the safest place that I know of," Harry said as he walked directly behind Draco.

He looked over his shoulder hoping to see that the person was still sitting on the park bench. A mild moment of relief filled Harry when he saw that the man was exactly as had been before.

"Is he still there?" Draco asked as he continued to walk.

"Yeah, for now. Don't look back!" Worried that Draco would ignore his instruction, Harry placed a hand on the back of Draco's neck and clamped down tightly, keeping Draco from turning his head.

"Ouch, Potter, you're pinching!" Draco hissed.

"Better to have me hurting your neck, than someone else breaking it."

"Fine! I won't look back. Just get your bloody hands off me. People are staring!" Draco scowled, and his cheeks flushed an attractive crimson. Harry relaxed his hand and let it slide down Draco's back, enjoying the contact for as long as he could without eliciting more venom from Draco.

They continued their walk toward the London Eye, as Harry occasionally glanced backwards to see if the person was following them. With each look, his tension eased. Perhaps Draco was right, and the man had simply been some eccentric Muggle.

"Alright, Draco we can ease up now, he's not following us," Harry said as they slowed their speed to a more normal walk.

"You see," Draco started turning on the spot and causing Harry to bump into him. "I told you that you were a paranoid git for thinking that."

"Maybe you were right," Harry shrugged. "Still I'd rather be safe than sorry." Even in this early morning, the crowd was beginning to thicken, and Harry felt a comforting sense of anonymity as he eyed all of the other people in jeans and plain shirts, some of them carrying backpacks like his.

Harry navigated Draco toward a small cobble street that brought the two young wizards to a walking area next to the Thames River, a short distance away from the London Eye. Harry raised a hand to shade his eyes and looked up at the giant Ferris wheel in admiration.

Draco looked unimpressed as he tilted his head up to look at the Eye. "I still don't understand the point of that contraption."

"It's-" Harry sighed, fumbling for an explanation. "Think about the first time you flew on a broomstick, being able to see for miles, everything on the ground looking tiny-"

"My mother yelled 'Come down before you break your neck!' and Father screamed about how it was coming out of my skin if I broke my broomstick," Draco snorted.

"Never mind!" Harry shook his head in disgust. "Since we're here, we might as well take a ride on this thing, and at least try to enjoy part of the day. I think we have just enough money for it."

Draco did not reply as his eyes had found something more majestic than the London Eye. He walked to the edge of the wall and looked longingly across the Thames River at Parliament and Big Ben. This was the first time Harry had seen Draco look impressed with something from the Muggle world.

"Draco?" Harry said, gently placing his hand on the Slytherin's shoulder. "Did you hear what I said?" Harry smiled, as Draco would not break his gaze from the beautiful building across the water from them. "Hey, come on. We have to go. Besides you'll get a better view from the Eye."

Draco broke his stare from Parliament and let his eyes trace the shape of the Ferris wheel. The corners of his mouth twitched upward before he tossed his head and shrugged. "I don't care, but you obviously do, so we'll ride the stupid wheel," Draco said while looking one last time at the building across the river. "And after that, what then?"

"And then we find a quiet place to apparate out of here and go to the Burrow," Harry said, lowering his voice.

Draco crossed his arms and pouted. "Do we really have to, Potter? I mean, isn't there any other place that we can go to? What about…," Draco lowered his voice to a whisper. "What about Hogsmeade? Hell, for that matter what about Hogwarts? At least there we would be safe."

Harry thought about this for a moment before answering. "Hogsmeade is one of the places your father will expect us to be, and Hogwarts is closed for the summer. Besides, what do you think McGonagall and the other professors would say if you and I appeared there together?"

A genuine smile flashed across Draco's face, lighting up his eyes. "Simple. I would tell them that you lost a Quidditch bet to me, and that you had to do everything that I said."

"Everything?" Harry asked, arching his eyebrows upward.

"Ugh, Potter, you are a degenerate. What you want to do can stay in your morbid fantasies."

Harry smiled at the thought and at the realization the he had made Draco genuinely smile.

His smile faded when he caught a glimpse of a robed man reflected in a shop window. He whirled Draco around and shoved him forward. "Don't say anything, just walk quickly!" Harry hissed into Draco's shoulder. "He's here! I saw his reflection in that store window that we just walked passed, and he was staring right at us."

"Keep moving," Harry whispered into Draco's ear.

They approached the boarding area for the Eye and were relieved to see that there was no waiting queue, and that the attendant had his back turned and was flirting with a young woman.

"Alohomora," Harry whispered, and the door unlocked. They slipped past the young, flirting attendant and closed the door on the compartment, seconds after he turned and closed the queue gate, stopping the pursuing stranger at the entrance.

"Sorry mate," the young man said, "have to get this lot going." He pressed a button on the control panel as the huge operating wheel began to move.

"Look at him. Do you recognize him?" Harry asked as he looked at the man whose upper lip had curled into a definitive snarl.

Draco stared at the man before shaking his head. "No, I've never seen him before."

"He's not a Death Eater or a Snatcher? Has he ever been to Malfoy Manor?" Harry asked as the glass compartment rose into the air and offered a skyline view of London.

"No, Potter! I told you. I've never seen him before!"

Harry's brow furrowed as he looked down at the man standing far below. "Well, someone knows him, and I bet you all the gold in Gringots that it's Lucius."

Draco whirled on the spot. "There you go again, blaming Father for everything. He gets…" Draco took a deep breath and looked away from Harry. He put his palms flat on the glass window and leaned against it. "Father gets…strange when he's been drinking. He says things that he doesn't mean, and he does things he's sorry for later. It doesn't mean he's the next Dark Lord."

"Does that include beating his wife, and using Unforgivable Curses on his son? Have you forgotten yet again that your father just tried to kill us? I don't care how much he'd had to drink. A good man doesn't point a wand at his own son and scream 'Avada Kedavra'. It seems to me that he gave you a choice to make back at Grimmauld Place. You decided, and he reacted. When will you get it through that Slytherin brain of yours that he will kill you at the first chance he gets? If you don't believe that, then when this ride stops, you can get off and find your own way back to Malfoy Manor, or you can take your chances with whoever that is below us."

"Potter, look, I…" Draco started to say, but Harry interrupted.

"Damn it Malfoy, I am tired of your indecisiveness! Make up your mind now. You either run back to your mother and father, like a spoiled brat, or else you come with me, for better or for worse."

Harry could see the fuse lit behind Draco's cool exterior. He did not back down from his tirade, but looking at the anger in Draco's eyes, he decided to slightly switch his wording. He exhaled deeply and forced himself to unclench his fists, hoping Draco would notice the change in his posture. "I'm sorry that I called you a spoiled brat, Draco, but you have to see things from where I stand. I am offering you something that nobody has ever offered you before."

"And what's that, Potter? You bleeding, pathetic heart?"

Harry slightly winced, but recovered. "No, not that." Harry forced the words through gritted teeth before continuing in a more reasonable tone of voice. "I am offering you the chance for safety and trust, two things that you never had with Lucius."

"And expecting what in return? What do you get out of this?"

Harry started to reach for Draco's hand, thought better of it, and instead leaned back against the glass. "What's in it for me? I have everything to gain from this! A life I never knew existed because I was too blind to see it until your letter arrived. Whether you believe it or not, I meant it when I said we were friends. What other reason could I possibly need? Even after everything, you've said and done, I don't want to see you hurt. Ever."

Harry felt Draco's cold stare penetrate his mind, as if he were trying to read it to see if Harry was telling the complete truth. He watched as Draco remained silent, slightly nodding his head.

"Alright then," Harry began, "we need to form a quick plan to get away from this guy. From the looks of it, we are over halfway done with our time."

"What do you suggest?" Draco's voice was thick and hoarse, but extinguished of any anger.

Harry looked down, scanning the grounds below for the man that had followed them. "He's not there!" He went to the other side of the compartment and gazed down. "I don't see him."

"Maybe he's gone?" Draco suggested.

"I doubt it," Harry replied. "If he is a dark wizard then he knows what he is doing."

Draco raised his eyebrows in question.

Harry stopped in mid-thought as he noticed Draco's expression. "What, didn't you Death Eaters ever set a trap for anyone, or did you all just rush in with your wands in your hand?"

Harry could see the obscenity forming on Draco's seething face as his lips curled, and his fists balled tightly.

"Hmm, well I guess I know the answer to that now," Harry said as he eyed Draco out of the corner of his eyes. "And that could be our way out of here!"

"What?" Draco irritably asked as he walked over to where Harry stood against the glass.

"That alley," Harry said as he nodded toward the building. "It's not that far away from the queue line. If we can get to it without him finding us, then we can apparate out of here and to the Burrow. If he follows, then at least it will be two against one."

"Fine, it's your idea," Draco said as he walked back to the middle of the enclosure, arms crossed against his chest.

"Draco?" Harry called. "Are you still with me? Now is the time to know. The ride is almost over with."

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes at Harry. "Yes, Potter. I am with you. What other choice do I have?"

"Good. Now when the ride stops, we will get out and walk over there. I don't see him, but he probably is still around, so keep your hand on your wand."

"What if he's in the alley?"

"Well that's something that we will have to chance," Harry said as the ride stopped and the young attendant opened the door to the compartment.

The door to the glass compartment opened. "Hope you two enjoyed the ride," the young attendant said, beaming his customary smile.

"Yeah, thanks," Harry replied absently.

Harry and Draco crossed the walkway and made it to the narrow alley. Even with the sun shining above, the alley was still in full shadow. The contrast between the brightness of the sun-drenched streets and the deeply shaded alley made it hard to see whether someone lurked between the buildings.

"So far, so good," Harry said as the two made their way further into the alley. "Alright, this is far enough. Now we have to be quick about this, before any Muggles walk by and notice us."

"Just try to keep us in one piece, Potter! I don't feel like being doctored to by any Weasleys." A small roar formed in the pit of Harry's stomach regarding the comment, but he quickly forced the tone of Draco's words out of his mind, and concentrated on where he was about to apparate to.

"Hang on, here we go." Harry said as he closed his eyes.

"You two aren't going anywhere," a voice said from the shadows. The man from the park bench stepped out from behind several large crates, his wand pointing at Harry and Draco. "Now let go of each other, and keep your hands where I can see them. Any sudden movements and you will regret your decision."

"Who are you?" Draco demanded, as he let go of Harry's hand and took a half step forward toward the stranger.

The man lightly chuckled as he stepped closer toward the two young wizards. "Who I am is not important. All that matters is that I have the two of you."

"What do you want with us?" Harry asked.

The stranger leered. "Oh, I could get creative if I had the time, but I'd settle for snapping both of your pathetic little necks."

Draco's arm was moving slowly toward his wand. "Do you work for my Father?"

"Lucius?" The man paused before he continued. "You could say that I do favors for him, from time to time. If it were up to me, the both of you would be dead right now, just like that red-haired bitch and that old man back at the shop. So be thankful that Lucius wants to see the two of you, alive."

"You murdering bastard!" Harry shouted. "How could you kill two innocent people?"

The man shook his head, sadistically chuckling as he did so. "No, Potter. It wasn't me that killed them, it was the two of you. Had you not visited those two places, they would still be alive right now, able to live out their miserable existences."

"Enough of your games, who the hell are you?" Draco asked, his right hand twitching.

"I am called many names, Blondie, but the name that most wizards know me by is Phillipe."

"Phillipe?" Harry snorted as he glanced sideways at Draco. Draco's hand had almost reached its goal. Harry needed to give him more time. Are you French? What happened, they wouldn't let you into Beauxbatons when you were younger, so you grew up to become a murdering psychopath?"

Phillipe's large hand wrapped around Harry's throat and pushed him against the brick wall. "If I were you Potter, I would grow some muscles first before you begin talking like that." To emphasize his point, Phillipe lifted Harry up the wall several inches, his feet dangling as they tried to touch the ground. The pressure around Harry's neck increased, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as if it would burst through his ribcage. Black dots began to appear before his eyes, as he saw Draco reach for his wand and stun the large man.

The stunning spell staggered Phillipe and the grip around Harry's throat released. Harry gulped the fresh air into his lungs, and stumbled over toward Draco.

Once more, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Harry saw Phillipe's wand ignite as he was about to cast a curse. Draco grabbed Harry and pushed the Gryffindor behind him as he stood in front with his wand aimed at the murderer.

"Expecto Patronum!" Draco shouted, and the silver dragon erupted from Draco's wand and flew toward Phillipe. The patronus's claws stretched forward, as it raced toward the target. The dragon opened its mouth and a blue flame speared toward the man, narrowly missing him as he dove behind the large crates. Harry quickly grabbed Draco, and the two spun out of sight.

Phillipe stood up, brushing the dirt from his robes. "So, Potter," he spat, a slight menace of anger attached to his words, "the two of you live to die another day." He quickly apparted out of sight before any Muggles or Ministry officials could appear.
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Darkness Within The Light