Quarantined • DRARRY •

•Chapter Four• Hogsmade•

            "What d'you—"

            But Ariana had already turned and begun walking down the tunnel behind her portrait. The passageway opened, and it was clear she was done talking to him.

            "Thanks." Harry stepped into the passage, barely paying attention to the path in front of him. Why had she said those things? What did she mean? Did she really think he felt anything for Malfoy beyond utter dislike?

            After a few minutes, however, his mind quickly turned to the task at hand. Malfoy was in Hogsmeade, and he'd bet ten thousand Galleons it was to do something Dark or dangerous, or both.  

            "You're the better person, Potter. Happy?"

            "Lumos" Harry whispered, holding his wand above his head as he entered the Hog's Head. Aberforth must be traveling, he'd taken to doing that often since his brother's death. Harry suspected that he frequented Godric's Hollow often, the place where he'd lost Ariana, where Dumbledore and Grindelwald had plotted the destruction of the world; where, for all his efforts to protect Ariana and his mother, his family had been shattered.

            But Aberforth never really said much. Whenever Harry asked him, he simply grunted about needing to tend to an old goat farm, or he told Harry to go somewhere else if he wanted to be a therapist.

            Harry could hardly begrudge his reticence.

            The Hog's Head had even more dust than usual on its tables, and it was easy for Harry to see where Malfoy had been. He had left a clear trail through the floor, the sweep of his dressing gown an obvious sign.

            Harry frowned. Malfoy usually would have taken care to hide such obvious marks of his passing. Did he want to be found?

            Was this a trap?

            Harry raised the wand higher, double-checking the nooks and the crannies around the bar, wondering if Malfoy lurked beneath a Disillusionment Charm, waiting to attack.

            But why wouldn't he have just killed him in his sleep?

            After a few moments, Harry was satisfied that there was nothing, or no one, else in the bar.

            He followed the trail to the door and outside, looking warily up and down the streets. They were deserted, and their cobblestones left no similar trace of Malfoy's passing. A bite of wind blew, and he shivered. It was spring, but the nights still got cold.

            If I were a narcissistic, spineless git, where would I go? 

            With none of the usual haunts open, Harry had no idea what Malfoy would do in Hogsmeade. Of course, he could have simply used it as a stopping-off point for Apparition, which meant he could be anywhere by now...

            Suddenly, Harry heard a crash, as though a door had slammed. It came from the right side of the alleyway, where it branched into another. Harry crept forward, kicking himself for not grabbing the Invisibility Cloak.

            Harry thought for a moment. What was the incantation? Hermione had made him learn it for N.E.W.T.s, but he'd never been particularly interested, what with his possession of a Deathly Hallow and all.

            Harry closed his eyes and flicked his wand at himself, Illusiont. 

            He felt the curious, cold feeling immediately, like an egg had been cracked over his head. He held his hand in front of his face, and he could see only the wall behind it.