At the Burrow, Potter and his friends were frantically searching for Malfoy. They wouldn’t find him. He was miles away now, fuming and generally confused.
Malfoy had no idea where to go. It seemed like no matter where he went, the Death Eaters or Potter would be able to track him down. And he definitely didn’t want that. So he made a quick stop at Gringotts, withdrew some money, and then disappeared down a dark alley to figure out what he should do.
Malfoy sat down on a stump to think. Where could he go to be safe from, well, everybody? Where was a place that nobody would think to look?
A place immediately popped into his mind…but it was too vast, too vague, too unfamiliar to even consider.
Suddenly there was a shout. Startled, Malfoy looked up and saw three masked Death Eaters charging toward him. Malfoy jumped to his feet and, after only a split-second’s hesitation, Apparated to his only idea of where to go. The only place where he was sure to be safe…for a while, at least.
Potter knew it was useless to search around the Burrow for Malfoy, so he didn’t bother. He had no idea in the world where Malfoy had Apparated to, or if he was safe, or anything. He knew that since he and Malfoy had always hated each other, he shouldn’t be so worried about this. But they had been through a lot lately, and Potter couldn’t help being anxious.
That night, he slept in an extra bed in Ron’s room. Ron was snoring away in no time, but Potter couldn’t sleep. Finally, he got up and decided to write Ginny a letter.
He got a quill and some parchment, inked the ragged feather, and started writing.
Dear Gin,
Hope you’re safe from the crazy Death Eater attack, and I’m sorry I disappeared. I had to get out of there. I’ve been traveling around with Malfoy. Crazy, I know. He actually dragged me to Snape’s house, if you can believe it. Yeah, there’s something weird going on with Snape-and I want to get to the bottom of it. But first, I need to find Malfoy. He came with me to the Burrow, but for some reason he Apparated and I have no idea where he went. I’m afraid he might have gotten attacked or captured and I’m really worried.
Anyway, I hope to see you really soon.
Love,
Harry
Potter stuck the letter in an envelope, but then realized he had no idea where Hedwig was. He wasn’t worried; Hedwig was very smart and always seemed to be able to find him. Sure that his snowy owl would be here in the morning, Potter laid down back in his bed and was soon asleep.
The next morning, Potter slept in late, catching up on some much-needed sleep. When he woke up, around noon, he rolled lethargicly out of bed and went downstairs.
Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron were sitting at the kitchen table, eating lunch. “Good morning, Harry!” Mrs. Weasley beamed.
“Not really morning anymore,” commented George cheerfully, through a mouthful of ham sandwich.
Mrs. Weasley shot him a nasty look and then pulled Potter over to the table. “Help yourself to lunch, dear.” Potter gladly obeyed, biting into a huge turkey sandwich.
Just then, he spotted Hedwig perched near the stove. “Hedwig!” he exclaimed, getting up and going over to her. She nipped his finger affectionately as he stroked her soft feathers.
“Yeah, she turned up this morning,” said Ron. “Smart owl.”
“I was hoping she’d come,” Potter replied. “I need to send a letter.”
“To?” inquired Ron slyly, in a way that made Potter think that Ron already knew, very well, who Potter’s letter was to.
“Just somebody at Hogwarts,” Potter replied vaguely.
Ron grinned. “She’s not at Hogwarts, mate.”
“Where is she, then?”
“She’s in America,” Fred said dramatically. “Couldn’t stand it when you disappeared, you see. Broke her little heart. She ran away from Hogwarts, to America. Sent us an owl, but won’t tell us where she is. Poor little thing.”
“No,” said Ron exasperatedly. “It’s a school trip. For History of Magic. Lots of historical sites there, like Salem, you know.”
“We never got to go to America,” said Potter.
Ron shrugged. “It’s a new thing, I guess. Anyway, she said she’s really enjoying it.”
Potter attached the letter to Hedwig’s leg and sent her off, confident that she would find Ginny. Then he sat back down at the table.
“Where’s Hermione?” he asked.
“She went to Diagon Alley,” replied Ron. “She’ll probably be back soon.”
As if waiting for that cue, Hermione suddenly burst into the Burrow, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “You will never believe what happened!” she exclaimed, flinging herself onto a chair.
* * * * * * * *
Malfoy was hopelessly and utterly lost. He’d known that America was huge and vast. But this…wow. There were people everywhere, buildings everywhere, noisy cars crowding all the streets. The air felt heavy and smoggy compared to the cool, fresh air on the Hogwarts grounds. Everywhere he walked looked the same. A place called “Starbucks” kept popping up-at first when he saw it, he thought he was going in a circle, but each one seemed to be in a different spot…was he going crazy or were there just a lot? He couldn’t tell.
It wasn’t going well at all. Malfoy was about to give up and Apparate back to the Burrow when he noticed a large group of kids, around seventeen, following three very familiar-looking adults.
Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and the big oaf Hagrid.
Malfoy searched the mob of kids for a familiar face. He thought he recognized an annoying, mousy Gryffindor boy always taking pictures of things. That would make this the…seventh-year class. When he spotted Ginny Weasley, he was sure of it.
But what were they doing here?
* * * * * * * *
Ginny Weasley was having a relatively ordinary day. She was enjoying the trip to America, even if she was worried about Harry still. They had seen a few historical sites today. The group was about to stop for lunch when she caught a glimpse of somebody she thought she’d probably never see again.
Draco Malfoy.
She stopped suddenly, causing three Slytherins behind her to fall into her; they pushed past her, muttering angrily, but she couldn’t care less.
Ginny squinted in the bright sunlight, trying to make sure it was him. He was dirty, his hair was grimy and disheveled, and his chin had a rough layer of stubble, but the pale, pointed face and cold gray eyes were exactly the same. Or, maybe they weren’t; as Ginny studied him, she noticed his eyes didn’t seem as hard and icy as they used to. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or maybe Ginny was softening herself, but something about him was different.
Still-it was unmistakably him. It had to be.
Ginny ran up to the front of the group and tugged on Hagrid’s enormous arm. “Hagrid!” she hissed. “Hagrid!”
“What is it?” he asked.
“Can I talk to you? Uh…in private?”
“In private? Well, sure.” Ginny scurried away from the group and Hagrid lumbered over too.
Ginny wasn’t one to mince words or waste time. She got straight to the point. “Hagrid, I saw Draco Malfoy.”
“Malfoy? What? Where?” asked Hagrid, clearly shocked.
“Over there, on a street corner,” replied Ginny, pointing. Then she spotted something in the sky and shrieked, “Hagrid, look! It’s Hedwig!”
“Hedwig? Are yeh sure?” asked Hagrid, turning to look where Ginny was pointing. “It’s just a white owl-could be anything. Anyone’s.”
“No,” said Ginny stubbornly. “It’s Hedwig. I know it is.”
And of course, she was right. Hedwig swooped down to the two of them and perched on Hagrid’s gigantic shoulder. Ginny untied the letter eagerly and almost tore it in her haste to see what Harry had written.
Dear Gin,
Hope you’re safe from the crazy Death Eater attack, and I’m sorry I disappeared. I had to get out of there. I’ve been traveling around with Malfoy. Crazy, I know. He actually dragged me to Snape’s house, if you can believe it. Yeah, there’s something weird going on with Snape-and I want to get to the bottom of it. But first, I need to find Malfoy. He came with me to the Burrow, but for some reason he Apparated and I have no idea where he went. I’m afraid he might have gotten attacked or captured and I’m really worried.
Anyway, I hope to see you really soon.
Love,
Harry
“He’s safe,” Ginny breathed in relief, letting out days of anxiety and worry. “He’s at the Burrow and perfectly safe.” She read over the letter again, suddenly feeling as happy as she could possibly be. “Says Malfoy’s missing. Well, he’s here! Hagrid, we’ve got to go talk to him!” She carefully folded Harry’s letter and put it tenderly in her pocket, then grabbed Hagrid’s arm and started dragging him across the street to where she had seen Malfoy.
“Hold on there, little Weasley,” said Hagrid, pulling back. “We can’t just leave the group. We have to tell McGonagall.”
Ginny almost screamed with frustration. “Fine, let’s go!” she said, sprinting back to the group. “Come on, Hagrid, I know you can move faster than that!”
Hagrid smiled and jogged over. “Professor McGonagall,” he said, “Ginny and I are going to…er…”
“Go back to the hotel. I’m not feeling well,” Ginny supplied. She clutched her stomach (faking a cough seemed too juvenile and too see-through, and it was very important that McGonagall be fooled-not an easy task.) “Sick to my stomach.”
McGonagall raised an eyebrow skeptically, but didn’t question their story. “Well, fine,” she said. “I expect we will be back around five-thirty.”
Ginny and Hagrid immediately set off to find Malfoy. He couldn’t be far. (Unless, of course, he’d Apparated away, but Ginny refused to think about that possibility.)
* * * * * * * *
“What is it?” asked Potter, jumping up. “Hermione, what happened?”
Hermione set her bags on the table and smoothed her hair down. “Well,” she said, “I was coming out of Gringotts when I ran into somebody.”
“Who?” Potter and Ron asked simultaneously.
“Ernie MacMillan.”
“Ernie? Oh.” This couldn’t be important, then. For a minute there, Potter had hoped she’d run into Malfoy, Snape, somebody who had to do with anything important. “What did he want?”
“Well,” Hermione said, “we got to talking, and he said that he’s been working at Gringotts. And he asked me where I’ve been working, but I told him that I haven’t found a job yet, just been camping out at the Weasleys’-and he said he could see about getting me a job there, at Gringotts!”
“That’s great, Hermione.” Potter knew he probably didn’t sound very excited, but he had gotten his hopes up for something a bit more exciting than this. Then he had an idea. “Hermione,” he said slowly, “when you get this job, would you be able to get into vaults? Anybody’s vaults?”
“Well, I assume so,” replied Hermione. “It’d be dishonest and breaking about a thousand rules, and it’s completely crazy to try to rob Gringotts you know, but looking past that, yes, I think I could.”
“What about…Snape’s?”
“Snape?” Hermione’s voice had a suspicious edge to it now. “What’s going on, Harry?”
Potter sighed. “When Malfoy and I were at Snape’s house,” he said, “we found a trapdoor in his cellar. It has a small, silver keyhole, and we want to know what’s down there. We looked for the key in his bedroom, but he caught us ransacking his things and kicked us out.”
“Harry, it’s probably nothing. Just, I don’t know, where he keeps extra Potions supplies or something.”
“No,” Potter insisted. “It’s not. It’s important.”
“Important to what? Voldemort’s dead. What could Snape possibly be cooking up?”
“I don’t know!” said Potter, getting very frustrated. “That’s why I have to find out! What if he’s planning something dangerous or evil? Some, I don’t know, some way to get Voldemort back, somehow? Hermione, I have to get down there. You might trust Snape, but I never will.”
Hermione sighed. “Okay, Harry,” she said. “If I get the job, I promise I’ll get you into Snape’s vault. Happy?”
“Yes.”