I do not own Harry Potter anything you recognise is the work of JKRowling. Short Chapter, but sort of plot at least.

8th August 1995

It was quiet. The early morning sun flitted through the trees casting an eerie light on the forest floor. Leaves littered the ground as mist swirled around the trunks of the old gnarled trees. It was too quiet. There was no wind rustling the leaves of the trees, no birds greeted the morning sun and no animals dare set foot out of their homes as the two dark figures passed.

Theodore Darvill swore as he tripped over a root for the third time that morning, cursing once again that his lanky body was not made for outside use. He and his companion – and he used the term very loosely- were supposed to be looking for the Dark Lord so they could tell him of his defeat at the hands of Harry Potter (because that would be a wonderful conversation). Instead Theodore now found himself in some god forsaken forest, spying on people that were supposed to be their allies that were currently standing around in an extremely creepy graveyard. I didn't even want to come here. I was perfectly fine where I was and now I'm in 1995 for Merlin's sake he thought bitterly. He almost swore under his breath again as he remembered when Dolohov had first approached him more than a month ago with his idea to go into the past. The man was insane and being hunted by Aurors so Theodore wasn't exactly surprised when Dolohov had threated to kill his heavily pregnant wife if he didn't comply. Of course the fact that his father had been an avid supporter of Voldemort and on his death the duty to serve his master had apparently pasted to him, didn't help. Neither Theodore nor his wife had been particularly happy when this had happened and both had made themselves scarce during the Battle of Hogwarts, determined not to get involved, but for this little adventure Dolohov had been very persistent.

"What are you doin' just standing there ya filthy whelp, get moving," hissed the man next to him, who Theodore only new by the name of Withers. He was a slimy bastard who was just as twisted as Dolohov from years in Azkaban, though not nearly as clever. He had shoulder length stringy hair that looked dirty, grey and was matted in places. His face was scarred and filthy, his teeth were brown and rotting out of his skull while his eyes had the haunted, hollow look that all the victims of the Dementors had after too much exposure.

"I am moving," Theodore hissed in reply, ducking as Withers threw a tongue-tying curse at him.

"And keep ya mouth shut I'm sick of your whinging, we've only been 'ere two days and ya haven't shut up about ya stupid wife," he snapped back as he moved ahead towards the edge of the forest.

Theodore joined him at the edge of the trees, taking care not to be seen by those in the graveyard. He could make out a few of the faces from when his father had thrown elaborate "Let's-all-praise-the-Dark-Lord" and "I'm-a-Pureblood-so-I'm-better-than-you" parties when he was younger, but most of the faces where obscured by masks. He could see a number of unmasked men and a few women mulling about the tombstones, obviously waiting for someone. Theodore hoped with all his heart that it wasn't the Dark Lord. He wanted to get out of this alive.

"The Dark Lord isn't going to be 'ere," growled Withers. "I can see Malfoy, this is a bloody recruitment," he added. Theodore nodded as he too saw the tell-tale platinum blonde hair across the way.

"We need to get back to Dolohov, he was sure that the Dark Lord would be here," replied Theodore as he turned to walk back the shack they had made camp in.

"Wait," hissed Withers. "Something's 'appenin'" he called as Theodore sighed and rushed back to the gap in the trees. He looked back out at the scene in front of him, which as opposed to two minutes ago; was now in chaos. Theodore could see some of the recruits trying to apparate as the bright lights of various spells whipped through the air.

"What happened?" hissed Theodore as he saw a recruit get hit in the face with a stunner.

"It's Potter," spat Withers, swearing as Theodore watched the Auror take down two Death Eaters with a simple Expelliarmus, it was quite embarrassing actually. "And look, it's that blood traitor, Weasley with him," Withers added, pointing as another man joined the fray.

"How do you know it's them," Theodore asked frowning at the two men across from them, neither looking remotely like Potter or Weasley.

"'Cause unlike you, I ain't stupid, I've seen those disguises before, the last time that pair o' bastards raided one of the safe houses," Withers replied scowling.

Theodore nodded in understanding, Withers was smarter than he looked, and that was obviously something he would have to watch if he wanted to make it out of this alive. Theodore looked back to where the one Withers said was Potter had been just in time to see the boy head-butt Malfoy in the face, not that Theodore thought it was funny or anything.

"We need to get out of here," Theodore whispered as he watched more of the Death Eaters fall. Withers reluctantly nodded and followed Theodore back the way they had come. It wasn't a very long way so it didn't warrant the need to apparate, but it was long enough that after a few minutes Theodore could hear Withers muttering to himself. He could hear random words, most of them curses, but he stopped walking as soon as he heard Withers muttering a particular sentence.

"You're going to double cross Dolohov," Theodore shouted, his eyes going wide.

"Keep your voice down ya filthy mongrel," snapped Withers turning to glare at the younger man. "Dolohov doesn't know what he's doin', he had an entire army of Death Eaters on the other side of this damn forest, not mention Malfoy could'a got us in contact with the Dark Lord, now we've got stinking Harry Potter on our tails," he added swearing again.

They continued walking together in silence, Withers occasionally muttering to himself while Theodore once again wondered if he was ever going to get back to his wife, she could have had the baby by now for all he knew.

"So what, you're going to double cross Dolohov, and then give all of his information to Malfoy to pass on to the Dark Lord. Won't Malfoy take all of the credit then?" Theodore probed, breaking the silence as they approached the shack.

"Yes, but I'm willing to bet that Malfoy will be very willing to pay a pretty penny for my information," snarled Withers. Right, thought Theodore, he's not as smart as I thought.

oOoOoOo

August 9th 1995 (Present Day)

It was mid-afternoon when Harry and Ron reached the seemingly abandoned shack on the outskirts of Little Hangleton. They landed in the forest partly hidden from view as grey light trickled down from the canopy. A gentle breeze shifted through the air, dancing among the ivy that covered the hovel in front of them before drifting up and making shapes in the smoke coming from one of the chimneys. Moving quickly and quietly Harry and Ron dashed to the entrance of the shack, and while no movement came from inside the small building, they were careful not to linger near the windows. Ron held his wand at the ready, waiting in his position directly in front of the door. Harry who was on the other side placed his hand flat on the door and pushed it open. The hovel was silent.

"Homenum Revelio" whispered Ron as he moved further into the room. Nothing happened. "Lumos," he added as the tip of his wand lit up the room and Harry followed him into the room.

"Can you smell something?" Harry asked as he too lit up his wand.

"Yeah, smells like something rotten," replied Ron sniffing the air. It was coming from the room that led off to their right. Harry moved forward, his wand out in front of him as he pushed open the second door. They were hit with one of the worst smells either of them had come across, and that included troll. Harry surveyed the room, his eyes drawn to the corpse splayed out on the floor, the flesh rotting in the heat of the coals from the fireplace.

"That is disgusting," gagged Ron, covering his mouth and nose as he moved closer to the body.

"Can you tell who it is?" asked Harry through his hand, which also covered his nose and mouth.

"Not really, his face is a bit bashed up but I think he looks kinda like that Withers guy. You know the one wanted for assault on Muggle women," said Ron trying to roll the body over with his foot so he didn't have to get too close.

"Yeah, good riddance then," replied Harry. "C'mon we better burn the body just in case someone from the Ministry finds him," he added moving back to make more room.

"That'd be a bit awkward to explain, especially since if it is Withers he's locked up in Azkaban at the moment," added Ron, his lips twitching as Harry levitated the body out the door.

"Incendio," whispered Harry a few minutes later as the makeshift pyre caught fire. They stood and watched for a few minutes as the flames licked around the body. This wasn't the first time that either Ron or Harry had had to burn a body whilst on the job. After the Battle of Hogwarts ended the remaining Death Eaters became desperate and the more cunning ones often left behind bodies of those who were no longer useful. It was common practice amongst the Aurors to burn the bodies of the guilty, mainly because they weren't fit to be buried, to have a place marked on the earth as if they were a decent hard working person instead of the bloody thirsty criminal that most were. The other reason for burning them was that most people didn't feel comfortable leaving them to decay or be taken by animals, they had after all, at one point been somebody's child, friend or family member.

"Time to go," said Ron once the last of the flames began to die, "We still have a couple of places to check out before we go back to Grimmauld". Harry nodded, giving one last look at the hot coals before thinking of their next destination and turning on the spot.