Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you even remotely recognize here. The only thing I own, sadly, is my computer.

Chapter 1

The night had been busy for Tom in The Leaky Cauldron. When the bar had been full, warm lights had hovered precariously above patron's heads, illuminating the room. Now that it was empty, and the candles had been extinguished, Tom only had the light of the moon to clean the bar and head for home. He danced with the mop and bucket, casting half-glances over reckless shadows of tables and chairs by moonlight. With a sweeping motion, he gestured towards the chairs, where they stacked themselves near the tables, which had in turn mopped themselves down. Another look around the room told him that his job was, finally, finished, and he began to make his way towards the upward staircase.

As he ascended the staircase, he looked around once more, triple checking the state of the bar. Everything seemed to be in order, so he turned again to walk up the stairs, but as he did he noticed a shadow from behind a corner. It seemed out of place, as though it didn't belong in the bar. Abandoning his climb up the stairs, Tom inched towards the darkened area. It definitely wasn't a piece of bar equipment. As the aged bar man tip-toed towards it, the shadow gave a hiccup. Wait on, Tom thought. Shadows don't hiccup. There's an intruder!

The shadow moved, shuddering and gasping. As Tom rounded the corner, he saw a cloak. The person wearing it looked up, and Tom gave a startled gasp. Getting down on his hands and knees, he helped the figure up, who sank into his shoulders. Carefully but firmly, he walked the cloaked person to a stack of chairs and waved a careless hand at it, causing a chair to fly down and allow the person to sit on it. As Tom stared into the person's face, he confirmed that it was a woman, an old friend of his. Tom stuttered a hesitant question,

"H-h-h-ow can…. W-what happened?" The woman in the cloak merely gave a sad smile to reassure the shocked bar man, and stared intently into his eyes, willing Tom to understand without having to explain.

Tom stared back into her eyes, hypnotised by his portrait reflected in the brilliant emerald colour. A lock of long red hair poked casually out of the cloak. Tom murmured again, in a barely audible whisper, "But… James. Harry."

Understandably preoccupied, Tom did not look through the window of the Leaky Cauldron. Had he done, he would have noticed the stares from muggle pedestrians, who briefly stopped in front of the bar and looked through the windows, while walking home after a long day of work

A/N: So how was that? Please, people, you know exactly what I want. Press that little purple button down there. Go on! I read all reviews, even if you just want to say IT'S CRAP. Whatever you think, please tell me.