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Title: The Break In
Contributors: dm_fugitive
Edited by: Carla Lute
Posted: 2005-10-04 to 07
Game Date:
July 28th
Disclaimer: No one at Levicorpus owns Harry
Potter, the world or its characters. We
just like to play in J.K. Rowling’s world..
* * *
* * * *
At midnight Little Whinging was covered
in fog, and the playground was lit by street lamps. Draco took a deep breath of
the unseasonally cool air and sat down softly on one of the wooden swings. He
eased his legs back and forth in a hypnotic sort of rhythm and kept his eyes
darting about the still landscape. So far, he had not seen anyone.
Thirty minutes or so later, Draco
abandoned the swing and wandered towards Privet Drive. He had a vague idea of
which way, but he still found himself checking sign posts. He took his time,
walked at casual pace. He doubted anyone would recognize him. His hair was
changed to a dull brown. He was wearing blue jeans and a button down shirt that
he had taken from the laundry last year. He even had on a pair of glasses he
had found abandon...though the lenses had hurt his eyes so he popped them out.
Still, it gave a different effect to his face.
He passed number four privet drive. There was no noise and only a couple low
lights on. He circled the neighborhood, when he returned and the house was
still in the same state. He wandered past again, towards a clump of trees at
the end of the block for he knew they would muffle the sound.
Draco disapparated from the grove and apparated inside Potter's room. He stood
still for a moment to get his bearings and listened for sounds of waking. There
was a strange whirring sound he couldn't place, but it was constant. Something
that might have been a cough from another room, but no footsteps, no voices.
He took the Hand of Glory from his bag and lit the candle in it's grasp. He
looked from the bed to the trunk to the books piled on the dresser. Surely
there was something here. Something that might tell him...
Draco opened Potter's trunk, the whirring
grew into a loud screeching. He fumbled through a nest of socks until his hand
found the Sneakoscope. He wrapped it in a couple extra socks and smashed it
against the floor until it went quiet. He paused to listen. This time he did
hear footsteps, heavy ones driving straight for the door. Draco bit his tongue.
The door shook as it was pounded from the other side.
"Potter, is that you?"
"Yeah," Draco said, making his voice huskier than usual.
"Well, keep it down, you bonehead! It's late!" The voice hissed
angrily at him. The owner obviously trying to sound menacing without being
loud.
"Sorry," Draco said in the same voice. A grunt-like sound came from
the otherside and the footsteps plodded off.
Draco continued his search. He found a photo album, a broken mirror, some
extendable ears, far too much undone laundry, a homework planner which had
Ginny's name scribbled in the margins often with encircled with little hearts
or snitches. Draco rolled his eyes. He was about to toss it back in the trunk
when he spotted found his own name.
What is Draco Malfoy up to?
Intrigued (and grateful that no hearts encircled his name) Draco paid more
attention to the entries. There was no neat story to follow, but he found
keywords scratched in odd places between the essays and practical homework.
((Room of Requirement)) ((Polyjuice)) ((Crabbe is a pretty little girl))
"Bloody Potter was stalking me," he murmured indignantly. Draco took
a blank sheet of parchment and a quill out of Potter's school things, so he
could copy down anything particularly interesting. He scratched a few notes
absently. It was awkward, because he was still holding the Hand of Glory and
trying to turn pages.
"What is a Horcrux?" Draco murmured as he copied the question down.
"What is a Horcrux?" he repeated in a slightly different tone, one
tinged with academic curiosity. The planner offered no answers.
The last page had seven H's, two of them crossed out. He figured it had
something to do with the Hufflepuff quidditch team, and stuck the planner back
into the trunk.
Draco shuffled through the rest of
Potter's things; books, a melted pocket knife, little bottles of potions
ingredients. He pocketed a small bottle of dragons blood and a unicorn hair. He
cosidered the broken pieces of the Sneakoscope for a minute before dropping
them into the bag as well (minus the socks).
He looked under the bed and through the closet and searched the drawers and
trunk a second time with the air of some one not really expecting to find
anything.
With a breath, he extinguished the candle. He returned the Hand of Glory to his
bag and disapparated.
A very grumpy and very groggy Dudley flung open the door a few seconds later to
investigate the loud popping he had heard, but Draco by that point was several
miles away.
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