Not a minute later the door opens again, sending the silver bell chiming. Draco Malfoy steps inside.

Harry frowns, carefully scanning Malfoy for any clues to his disappearance. This is the last anyone saw of him, after all. And it’s the first Harry has seen of Malfoy since the Battle of Hogwarts. The description in the file was right, at least, but Harry supposes they took the details direct from this memory. The weak sunlight, filtering through the narrow windows, catches on the tiny clasp of Malfoy’s black travelling cloak. A silver snitch, Harry thinks with closer inspection, no bigger than the fingernail of Harry’s index finger.

“How may I help you?” the shopkeeper says stiffly. Malfoy glances at him.

“I am in need of an owl. Speed is less important than accuracy.” - Running On Air (Chapter 1) by eleventy7