Thanks for this amazing banner!!! Snow_Leaves
====================================

Karina's POV

Hearing meowing and feeling fur on my face I wake up to see nothing but black.

"Ugh Marvel get off!!" Pushing Marvel, my little black kitten, off my face I sit up to see all my friends in my room.

It had only been 2 weeks and we already missed each other desperately so we decided to have a sleep over. Pansy shared my bed with me while all the boys slept on 2 air mattresses on the floor. Getting up quietly and tiptoeing in my ginormous cast to the bathroom, I brush my teeth and take a quick shower. When I get out the bathroom I see everyone is still asleep so I decide to go make breakfast.

With Marvel on my heel, I limp down the stairs and start making pancakes, bacon, and eggs.

"Need help?"

Turning around to see a freshly showered Draco I can't help but stare. His messy non gelled hair, intense silver eyes, do I dare go on?

"Um no thanks I got it. You can set the table if you want?"

He nods and goes into the dining room. After I finish making breakfast, I sit on the counter and wait for everyone to finish freshening up. Draco walks over and stands between my legs. He taps on my cast with one hand while holding my other.

"So you ready for another year at Hogwarts?" I ask while running my free hand through his platinum blonde hair.

"If you're there with me then I'm ready for anything." He brings my hand up to his face then kisses my knuckles.

"Aw Draco. You are the sweetest." I smile down at him and think about all the horrible things everyone at Hogwarts said about him last year.

He may be mean sometimes to people but honestly that's mainly what he knows. His father raised him a totally different way then every one else. Every time I go to Malfoy Manor I see first hand how cruel his father really is. I think Draco is brave and strong. He's anything but evil and he is definitely caring.

"I try love. So no sign of Grandma Raine yet?"

"No. I haven't the slightest idea where she could be. I'm worried but I know she is okay. I just wish she would talk to me and let me know what's going on. I'm scared that her disappearance might have something to do with death eaters."

Draco looks up from my hand and holds my face.

"Karina I'm sure she is okay wherever she is. And if her disappearance has anything to do with death eaters and the dark lord then she is protecting you by being away."

I nod. Looking into his silver eyes I see mischievousness dancing all about.

Suddenly, he leans forward and his lips touch mine. Smiling against his lips, I lean towards him and wrap my arms around his shoulder.

"Ew can you guys not swap saliva around the food please?" Blaise shields his eyes as he walks into the kitchen.

"Ugh why do you guys have to be so gross and cute at the same time?" Pansy smiles walking past Blaise.

Draco helps me get down off the counter then hands me my crutches.

"When do you get the cast off Ari?" Pansy asks grabbing the basket of pancakes.

"Um next week I believe. I am so happy. These stupid crutches have literally destroyed my armpits."

The boys grab the food then follow me into the dining room where Vincent and Gregory are already waiting. At the head of the table is Blaise and Pansy on opposite sides then Vincent and Gregory sit beside each other while I sit beside Draco.

We all eat and laugh while talking about our next meet up and our next year at Hogwarts. Looking around at everybody I get a little teary eyed. All my life I have wanted family and right now I have it and I couldn't be happier.

========================================================================

3rd Person's POV

"Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our school stuff this year," said George after a while.

"Five sets of Lockhart books! And Ginny needs robes and a wand and everything"

Harry said nothing. He felt a bit awkward. Stored in an underground vault at Gringotts in London was a small fortune that his parents had left him. Of course, it was only in the wizarding world that he had money; you couldn't use Galleons, Sickles, and Knits in Muggle shops. He had never mentioned his Gringotts bank account to the Dursleys; he didn't think their horror of anything connected with magic would stretch to a large pile of gold.

Mrs. Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.

"We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some more today... Ah well, guests first! After you, Harry dear!"

And she offered him the flowerpot. Harry stared at them all watching him.

"W-what am I supposed to do?" he stammered.

"He's never traveled by Floo powder," said Ron suddenly. "Sorry, Harry, I forgot."

"Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before -"

"He'll be all right, Mum," said Fred. "Harry, watch us first."

He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames.

With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished.

"You must speak clearly, dear," Mrs. Weasley told Harry as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot.

"And be sure to get out at the right grate ......"

"The right what?" said Harry nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight, too.

"Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly-"

"He'll be fine, Molly, don't fuss," said Mr. Weasley, helping himself to Floo powder, too.

"But, dear, if he got lost, how would we ever explain to his aunt and uncle?"

"They wouldn't mind," Harry reassured her. "Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney, don't worry about that-"

"Well ... all right ... you go after Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, when you get into the fire, say where you're going. "

"And keep your elbows tucked in," Ron advised.

"And your eyes shut," said Mrs. Weasley. "The soot-"

"Don't fidget," said Ron. "Or you might well fall out of the wrong fireplace-"

"But don't panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George."

Trying hard to bear all this in mind, Harry took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire.

He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; the fire felt like a warm breeze; he opened his mouth and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash.

"D-Dia-gon Alley," he coughed.

............................................................................................................................................................................

It felt as though he was being sucked down a giant drain.

He seemed to be spinning very fast- the roaring in his ears was deafening- he tried to keep his eyes open but the whirl of green flames made him feel sick- something hard knocked his elbow and he tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning.

Now it felt as though cold hands were slapping his face- squinting through his glasses he saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond.

His bacon sandwiches were churning inside him- he closed his eyes again wishing it would stop, and then he fell, face forward, onto cold stone and felt the bridge of his glasses snap.

Dizzy and bruised, covered in soot, he got gingerly to his feet, holding his broken glasses up to his eyes. He was alone, but where he was, he had no idea. All he could tell was that he was standing in the stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit wizard's shop- but nothing in here was ever likely to be on a Hogwarts school list.

A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks stared down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling.

Even worse, the dark, narrow street Harry could see through the dusty shop window was definitely not Diagon Alley. The sooner he got out of here, the better.

Nose still stinging where it had hit the hearth, Harry made his way swiftly and silently toward the door.

Before he'd got halfway toward it, two people appeared on the other side of the glass- and they were the very last people Harry wanted to meet when he was lost, covered in soot, and wearing broken glasses: Draco Malfoy and Karina Grey.

Harry looked quickly around and spotted a large black cabinet to his left; he shot inside it and pulled the doors closed, leaving a small crack to peer through.

Seconds later, a bell clanged, Grey and Malfoy stepped into the shop. The man who followed could only be Draco's father. He had the same pale, pointed face and identical cold, gray eyes.

Mr. Malfoy crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to his son and saying, "Touch nothing, Draco. You too Karina."

Karina nods but Malfoy scrunched his face.

Malfoy, who had reached for the glass eye, said, "I thought you were going to buy me a present."

"I said I would buy you a racing broom," said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter.

"What's the good of that if I'm not on the House team?" said Malfoy, looking sulky and bad-tempered.

"Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous ... famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead . . . ." Malfoy bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls.

". . . everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his stupid scar and his stupid broomstick-" Karina says as she walks around a glass case.

Wow she was still really upset with us, Harry thought to himself.

"You two have told me this at least a dozen times already," said Mr. Malfoy, with a quelling look at the two. "And I would remind you that it is not prudent to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear- ah, Mr. Borgin."

A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face.

"Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again," said Mr. Borgin in a voice as oily as his hair.

"Delighted and young Master Malfoy, too- charmed. Oh and little Karina Grey... I'm honored. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced-"

"I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling," said Mr. Malfoy.

"Selling?" The smile faded slightly from Mr. Borgin's face.

"You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids," said Mr. Malfoy, taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Mr. Borgin to read.

"I have a few- ah- items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call... Mr. Borgin fixed a pair of pince-nez to his nose and looked down the list.

"The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?" Mr. Malfoy's lip curled.

"I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act- no doubt that flea- bitten, Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it. "

Harry felt a hot surge of anger.

"-and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear-"

"I understand, sir, of course," said Mr. Borgin. "Let me see..."

"Can I have that?" interrupted Draco, pointing at the withered hand on its cushion.

"Ah, the Hand of Glory!" said Mr. Borgin, abandoning Mr. Malfoy's list and scurrying over to Draco.

"Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir."

"I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," said Mr. Malfoy coldly.

Mr. Borgin said quickly, "No offense, sir, no offense meant-"

"Though if his grades don't pick up," said Mr. Malfoy, more coldly still, "that may indeed be all he is fit for-"

"It's not my fault," retorted Draco.

"He's right Mr. Malfoy. The teachers all have favorites, like that stupid Hermione Granger-"

"I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam Draco," snapped Mr. Malfoy.

"Ha!" said Harry under his breath, pleased to see Draco looking both abashed and angry.

As Lucius turns back to Borgin, Karina grabs Draco's hand. Draco looks over at her and slightly smiles.

Harry wonders what the heck is going on between the two. Not because he cares but because of how annoying they will be together.

"It's the same all over," said Mr. Borgin, in his oily voice. "Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere-"

"Not with me," said Mr. Malfoy, his long nostrils flaring.

"No, sir, nor with me, sir," said Mr. Borgin, with a deep bow.

"In that case, perhaps we can return to my list," said Mr. Malfoy shortly.

"I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today-"

They started to haggle. Harry watched nervously as Draco and Karina drew nearer and nearer to his hiding place, examining the objects for sale.

Draco paused to examine a long coil of hangman's rope and to read, smirking, the card propped on a magnificent necklace of opals,

Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed - Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggles Owners to Date.

Draco turned away and saw the cabinet right in front of him. He walked forward- he stretched out his hand for the handle...

"Done," said Mr. Malfoy at the counter. "Come, Draco, Karina-"

Harry wiped his forehead on his sleeve as Draco turned away.

"Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. I'll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods."

The moment the door had closed, Mr. Borgin dropped his oily manner.

"Good day yourself, Mister Malfoy, and if the stories are true, you haven't sold me half of what's hidden in your manor..."

Muttering darkly, Mr. Borgin disappeared into a back room.

Harry waited for a minute in case he came back, then, quietly as he could, slipped out of the cabinet, past the glass cases, and out of the shop door.

Clutching his broken glasses to his face, Harry stared around. He had emerged into a dingy alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of shops devoted to the Dark Arts.

The one he'd just left, Borgin and Burkes, looked like the largest, but opposite was a nasty window display of shrunken heads and, two doors down, a large cage was alive with gigantic black spiders.

Two shabby-looking wizards were watching him from the shadow of a doorway, muttering to each other.

Feeling jumpy, Harry set off, trying to hold his glasses on straight and hoping against hope he'd be able to find a way out of here.