Harry had been quiet since leaving the airport. His friends had noticed, but really didn’t try to engage him in conversation. He had expressed his extreme displeasure with the current situation as they had landed, and none of the others thought that it would be wise to discuss things until they could be sure that they wouldn’t be overheard. And so they left Harry to his thoughts, for once, instead of trying to jolly him out of his brood. And he was glad that they did.

It gave him ample opportunity to take in the situation, to study his surroundings, to size up his new protectors. Harry was going into his seventh year, taking all the classes that he would need to become an auror, and practicing what Mad Eye Moody always preached, ‘Constant Vigilance’. With all of the studying, the extra defense lessons that the members of the Order were giving him, and his promise to Dumbledore that he would follow his own intuition, Harry felt that his powers of observation and deduction were becoming quite impressive.

As a result, he had noticed several things about the current situation, some of them that he was sure that his traveling companions had yet to see.

Like the fact that Dawn had not once called Draco by his given name. To her, his name was J.J. Summers. At first, Harry had thought nothing of it, knowing that he and Hermione would also use that surname while they were in L.A., just as Ron and Ginny would be going by Rosenberg. But the more often Dawn called Draco J.J., the more Harry realized that it was more than just a nickname to the girl. It was a symbol of how he was. At it seemed that, as far as Dawn was concerned, J.J. Summers and Draco Malfoy were not the same person. Two different people that happened to share the same body. Harry wondered at her ability to separate the two, and wondered if he should try to do the same.

Normally, Harry would have never thought of getting to know the person behind the persona of Draco Malfoy. But Harry, of all people, knew to never say never. With his life the way it was, he had to learn to adjust to unexpected situations. Looking at Draco Malfoy as anything but a future Death Eater was definitely an unexpected situation. In fact, looking at Draco Malfoy as anything other than Draco Malfoy, the epitome of Slytherin, the boy who acted as if he ruled the school, the bane of their existence, was an entirely unexpected situation.

But the things that Harry had taken note of warranted a closer inspection into the person that Draco now appeared to be to the muggle world, J.J. Summers. It seemed more important to Harry to discover if that was the person that Draco really was, rather than dwell on the fact of who he had always been.

Several separate observations had made Harry come to this conclusion, to look at Malfoy with a new perspective. One of them was the new name. That, and the slight reaction that the other boy seemed to have every time they called him Malfoy. At first, Harry had thought that Draco was just adverse to the fact that it was a group of Gryffindors using his name. But as the group spent more time with the pair of teens who had picked them up, Harry noticed that the girl never called him Malfoy, as his ‘friends’ back at Hogwarts had. In fact, she didn’t even call him Draco.

Then, in the clothing store, Harry had tried to get the Slytherin’s attention. He had called him Malfoy, the only name Harry had ever used when addressing the boy. In fact, he had called the name twice. The first time, it was as if Draco had not even heard him, as if the name didn’t belong to him, but to some stranger that he had never met.

The second time Harry had tried to get his attention, Draco had visibly flinched at the name, as if it physically hurt him to be so addressed.

Then there had been the incident over his hair. The Draco that Harry had known in school would have simply made a disdainful remark about Ron’s own hair and snidely replied that Draco was just jealous.

This Draco, however, seemed to hate the mere mention of the colour his hair used to be. And not because he had been proud of it. After all, if he had still been proud of it, why would he have changed it? As it was, the boy’s hair was so multicoloured that you couldn’t decipher what the original colour had been.

And Dawn definitely knew why. After all, she knew exactly the right thing to say to Draco about it.

Another thing that had struck Harry as odd about the incident with Ron was the strange threat that Draco had uttered. Something about something’s heart? And a basement?

Harry had been expecting threats about Death Eaters, about Draco’s father, about Voldemort himself. Maybe even a hex or two. What Harry wasn’t expecting was a threat that appeared to be muggle in nature, and a frightening one at that if the reaction of the salesgirl had been any indication.

Harry had also noticed something else when Draco had pinned Ron against the wall, something that he was amazed they hadn’t seen before. Draco had some kind of marking on his left arm, in the spot where the Death Eaters wore their dark mark, the sign of allegiance to Voldemort. Death Eaters traditionally had their initiation at the age of seventeen, when they were legal wizards. It was possible that Draco, going into his seventh year, would be of age like Harry, and initiated. But the dark mark was always black, and Harry could have sworn that he had seen a flash of colour on whatever it was that graced the Slytherin’s arm. He’d have to get a better look at Draco’s arm to know for sure, though.

Harry was trying to figure out if he should find a way to sneak a look at the mark, or just ask Draco outright to show it to him. Not that the boy would willingly show Harry the dark mark if that was indeed what it was.

But then again, Draco wasn’t stupid. And if he did actually bear the mark of Voldemort, then he would have never worn a short-sleeved shirt in front of any witch or wizard. So maybe he could just casually ask Draco to see his arm. Or, should he try asking J.J.?

They had left the mall and had been heading towards the car while Harry had been doing his silent contemplating. So, they were in the parking lot of the mall when the atmosphere around them changed, taking on a heavy, dark feeling. Harry broke away from his thoughts, and found himself already in front of Ginny, Hermione and Ron, his stance protective. The speed with which he had placed himself in that position surprised even Harry. He looked around, wondering what had set off his lightening fast reflexes.

Everything seemed normal enough; no dangerous dark wizards had apparrated into the parking lot.

The only thing that Harry could see was a young man in a dark shirt and pants, leaning against the convertible. But he could have been a boyfriend of Dawn’s who had simply recognized the car and decided to wait for her.

At least, that was what the wizard told himself. But still . . .

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Harry told Draco and Dawn, who had stopped walking and were looking worriedly at the newcomer.

Draco put his bags dawn, and, for a reason Harry couldn’t fathom, pulled the chopsticks from his pocket before hissing at Harry. “Nice going, C-3PO!”

Dawn, who had put down her own bags and was reaching into the bag on her hip, trying to be discreet about it, whipped her head around to look at her companions. “Wow, thanks for that, Andrew! No more Star Wars for you!”

At this point, the man by the car spoke, capturing the attention of all of the teens.

“Here I was, thinking that I’d find the legendary Angelus if I just waited patiently by his precious car. He’s so proud of it. But all I find is a six course meal, instead.”

“Meal?” Harry had the time to question. But there was no time to answer, because as he spoke, chaos erupted.