Somewhat Like Flying

"Okay," Malfoy said, turning to him. "Show me what you've come up with." Harry wanted to ask why he had to go first, but then decided that it didn't really matter. He pushed his piece of parchment Malfoy's way. Malfoy scanned the list and read off random things in that drawling voice Harry hated so much.

"...Protective charms, flight enhancers, waxing charms," at this he raised an eyebrow and set the parchment down. "Right. Potter, these are all charms that already exist. Whyever would we need to expend energy creating them? I know the professors would probably give you high marks no matter what you come up with, but some of us prefer to keep to high standards." Harry didn't know how Malfoy managed to make him so angry every time he spoke.

"Fine, not the flight enhancers or the waxing charms, then. But we could use the stabilizers, for when the weather's bad."

"Except they just installed a new dome that's supposed to materialise under extreme weather conditions," Malfoy informed him, somehow managing to look both extremely put out and extremely smug.

"Fine. But the dark arts barrier. Don't tell me that isn't a good idea."

Malfoy sighed. "Yes, it's a good idea, Potter. But it's also something that requires a lot of time and research on. And I don't know about you, but I have better things to do than hang out with you in the evenings."

"Scared you can't do it, Malfoy?" He put a hint of challenge in his voice; if there was one thing Harry knew about Malfoy, it was this: Malfoy reacted to challenges exactly the way Harry did.

"Fine," Malfoy said, eyes narrowing. "We can do your stupid shield. If we add one of my ideas in as well."

Harry groaned in frustration. "Why?"

"Because your idea, while annoyingly difficult, is not really all that interesting, and we're being graded on creativity. Also, Flitwick gives extra points for charms with more than one function."

Well, that made sense.

"Here," Malfoy pushed his notes over, "read mine."

Harry read.

--

The look on Potter's face was insultingly incredulous.

"Are you done yet?"

Potter looked up at Draco and arched an eyebrow, or tried to, anyway. The gesture failed absolutely at looking anything except monkey-like. "Rulebooks?"

"Yes," Draco said in the tone of someone who didn't care if anyone thought he was insane because he knew he was just ingenious. "They will be accurate, and they will hurt."

To Draco's surprise, the look of incredulity gave way to something else, something that suspiciously resembled a grin.

"That's, er," Potter said, coughing a bit to hide a laugh, "that's pretty creative, all right. I like it."

Draco felt a glowing sense of triumph. Of course Potter would like it. Draco's ideas were gold, and this one was especially cunning. They would never expect it.

"But I wouldn't have thought you'd want something like this done," Potter continued. "You've never been one to play by the rules yourself." He knew that Potter was trying to imply that he wouldn't be able to break the rules himself if the charm was in place.

"You forget that I don't play Quidditch anymore," Draco said in a quiet voice.

"Oh, right." Potter's voice was just as quiet. Draco thought he was just going to leave it at that, but he followed with a question. "Why not? I mean, I know you were...busy," he said the word busy bitterly like a curse word, "in sixth year, but. Why not this year?"

"That's none of your business."

"Right. So. Fine, I want to do the rulebook thing. And we're doing the dark arts shield. And we can even brainstorm some other functions later."

Draco nodded, glad that the topic had been dropped. "We'll need to do a lot of research, and after that there will be tests."

"I can come every Monday, Wednesday and Friday night if that's fine with you. I have things to do the other nights."

"That's fine," Draco replied. He glanced at the timepiece on the far end of the room. It was already past curfew, but he guessed it was okay since Potter was the Golden Boy, and a prefect to boot. He narrowed his eyes unconsciously. If Potter was a bastard and took away points tonight he was going to regret ever becoming Draco's partner. Unexpectedly, the thought brought to mind the last time Potter had taken points from him, and Draco scowled.

"What?" Potter asked, breaking him out of his reverie.

"Nothing at all. I'm thrumming with anticipation at the prospect of working on a school project with the Boy Wonder, is all."

Potter blinked. "Snape used to call me that. It drove me crazy."

"I know," Draco informed him. "That's why I'm doing it."

Somehow, this didn't seem to get quite the reaction he'd expected. Potter just frowned a little, and fiddled with the corners of his parchment. "He...He wasn't what I expected at all. I thought he was an evil bastard, but he ended up to be one of the bravest men I ever knew, and I still can't make sense out of it."

Draco had heard the announcement that Professor Snape was a war hero, had only killed Dumbledore for the cause and to save Draco from certain death. He'd always knew that the man was brave, he didn't need Potter to tell him that. In some ways, Professor Snape had been more of a father to him than his own had. He shook the thoughts away. This was a stupid thing to think. His father and mother had both proved they cared for him. His father may have been a bad man, and a foolish one too, but he was still a good father.

"Well, there's really no use whinging about your mistakes now," Draco told Potter. "Professor Snape never cared about what people thought of him. He always said that doing what is necessary is enough. So he probably would have been all right with everyone thinking he was an evil bastard." It was one of the things he most admired about his Head of House, the thing that, try as Draco might, he couldn't accurately imitate.

"Right," Potter murmured.

They sat like that for a few more minutes in complete silence as Potter continued to fiddle with his parchment paper and Draco watched the second hand tick around and round. Then he heard Potter yawn, and whipped his eyes away. "Right. Why don't we call it a night now."

Potter nodded dumbly in agreement, and they began to clear the books away. When they were at the door, Potter turned to him.

"I didn't think you'd want to be in here again. Considering..."

Draco gave him a sharp look. "I'm not going to let the past get in the way of what I have to do, Potter. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it again." He twisted the doorknob open and let the darkness of the hall envelope him, walking briskly back to the dungeons.

----

The next day was supposed to be a Malfoy-free day, with no Charms and no meeting after dinner in the Room of Requirement. Harry felt himself relax at the distance that he was afforded, and spent the day going about his usual routine. Every so often he would happen to glance across the hall and see Malfoy laughing at something Pansy Parkinson said, or stealing food from Blaise Zabini.

"You know," Hermione said as they walked to their last class of the day together, "you've been paying a lot of attention to Malfoy lately." She was looking at him with an expression that bordered on concern. Harry chuckled at her.

"That's because Flitwick's made him my partner for that stupid Charms project of his. I haven't got a choice." It wasn't as if he was speaking to Draco Malfoy because he enjoyed it or anything. Honestly, he'd sooner punch Malfoy than talk to him, the arrogant prick.

He was not going to think about Malfoy's prick, he decided when he realized that images were flashing across his mind again, not when Hermione was walking beside him. Not ever, really.

"No," Hermione insisted, "you've been watching him even before that." She studied Harry's face hard. "Did something happen between the two of you?"

"I think you're just looking too much into things, Hermione. I'm just..curious about what he's been up to since the end of the war, is all."

Hermione still looked doubtful. "He's been in school just like the rest of us. Everyone's had to take their 7th years over."

Harry shook his head. "It's not that. It's just." He shook his head again, laughed sheepishly. "I don't really know, either. Can we just talk about something else? There're better things to talk about than Draco Malfoy."

Hermione nodded. "Ron and Ginny are coming back next week." Ron and Ginny had had to take off for most of the fall term due to the disappearance of their brother's body. The aurors believed that it was the work of rogue Death Eaters who were resorting to petty tricks to demoralize the Order's members. Tonks' body had gone missing too, and that of Snape's. Harry had wanted to go with them, but Ginny had stopped him.

"It's always been you going off to do what you have to do," Ginny had told him, "and now it's my turn. This is something I have to do; you've done enough for all of us. You need your rest, Harry." And Harry had argued, but ultimately had given in. Ginny had trusted him to do what he needed to, and he wasn't going to begrudge her the same favor.

"How did you find out?" Harry asked Hermione now.

She hesitated. "Ron owled me. He said..." She bit her lip.

"What, what is it?" And why didn't Ron or Ginny owl him?

"He said there's been a few changes, is all."

Before Harry could ask about the these 'few changes,' he felt himself collide with a huge mass. He looked up to see Gregory Goyle staring down at him.

"Hello Potter," Goyle greeted.

"Erm. Hi."

A meaty arm extended, its hand holding a small piece of paper, presumably for Harry. Harry took it.

"From Draco," Goyle told him, then shouldered past.

Harry unfolded the note. Change of plans. Meet me at midnight tonight outside the library. Bring that cloak of yours; I know you have it. He frowned. What was Malfoy up to?

Hermione tugged his sleeve. "Come on, Harry, or we'll be late!"

She'd been about to say something before, but Harry couldn't remember what it was now. He gave a mental shrug. Whatever it was, he'd find out when Ron and Ginny got back.

----

Harry sat in bed and read the books he'd brought with him from the Room of Requirement, waiting as patiently as he could for midnight to roll around. Why couldn't Malfoy have chosen a night that Harry wasn't dead tired from practice to sneak into the library? Of course, it was more likely that Malfoy had picked this night specifically because Harry was dead tired. He sighed. He had been given the choice of not going to school and becoming a full-fledged wizard straight away, and he'd declined. It was really his own fault.

The night grew stiller around him, and soon his dormitory was quiet except for Neville's soft snoring and the occasional rustle of cloth as one of his room mates shifted in his bed. Harry glanced at the clock on his nightstand every few minutes, until at last it read 11:45. He crept silently out of his bed and donned his robes, then unlocked his trunk and pulled out the invisibility cloak, slipping it over himself.

-----

Draco waited patiently on the steps outside the library, fingering the ring that his mother had given him when they were safely away from the dark lord. "There's a powerful glamour charm on this," she'd told him, "that allows you to be virtually undetectable, unless someone knows the words to cancel the spell, and few will. If anything happens to us, use it and get as far away as possible." Well, now Draco was using his heirloom to sneak into libraries. Somehow he didn't think that was what mother had in mind when she gave it to him.

The night air was cool and quiet, and Draco breathed it in, sighing happily. It wasn't like the cold of the dungeons, which he preferred, but there was fresh air here, and no one was there to look at him, and pity him for failing or scorn him for being on the Dark Lord's side. Going to Durmstrang would be preferable to this, but it was already too late. There was only one term left, and then he would be free of this place. He could go to France where his mother was, then, or anywhere he wanted.

He looked around. Where was Potter, anyway?

---

Malfoy was nowhere to be found when Harry arrived at his destination. He waited for a few minutes, then took of his cloak.

Suddenly, he could hear footsteps near the entrance, and a voice hissing, "Put that back on, you idiot!" Harry scowled and glared around in Malfoy's general direction before throwing the cloak on top of himself again.

A hand grabbed the front of his shirt so suddenly that he gasped. "Right here," Malfoy whispered, much closer than Harry thought he was. The words were practically murmured in his ears. Harry felt the entire area tingle from the warmth, and was glad that he had the cloak on; Malfoy wouldn't be able to see the resulting blush that he could feel spreading across his skin.

"Malfoy," he said in a voice that matched Malfoy's whisper, his hands going up to grab Malfoy's wrist. Now that he was aware of Malfoy's presence, it was all too easy to recognize the warmth of a another person's body so close to his own, to taste the smell of Malfoy's shampoo in the air next to his face. He told himself sternly that one couldn't really taste a smell. "I didn't know you had an invisibility cloak."

Malfoy wrenched out of his grasp, and tried to place a hand on his shoulder instead. He must have miscalculated, because his hand came too close, and a warm thumb brushed against the curve of Harry's neck. It slid away quickly as the hand readjusted to the right position. "I don't," he said. "Not everyone has to put on an awfully cumbersome cloak like yours to become unseen, Potter. Slytherins are known for their stealthy ways." His tone was far too superior for someone who'd been grappling at Harry's shirt-front only moments before.

"Whatever, Malfoy. Are we going in or not?" He was beginning to fee quite silly, standing there in the middle of the walkway, still whispering to Malfoy when there was evidently no one else around.

"Yes," Malfoy told him, "That is your job."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Well, Potter," Malfoy's voice sounded a bit grudging, "I'm not the one with the experience breaking into libraries, am I?"

"What makes you think I have?" he asked Malfoy.

"You're friends with Granger. She likes that kind of thing, doesn't she?"

Well, that wasn't necessarily true. Though Malfoy did have a point, Hermione had in actuality always frowned upon breaking school rules, even for the sake of reading books. "Well no. But," Harry said, and here he allowed a bit of triumph to slip into his voice, "I do have this." He dug into his pocket and produced a key.

Silence followed. "Potter, you do know I can't see what this is, don't you?"

"Oh." Harry felt like an idiot. Which was probably what Malfoy was shooting for. He turned and pressed the key into Malfoy's hand. "It's the key to the library. It takes the wards down."

Malfoy made an impressed noise.

"Madam Pince gave it to Hermione as a gift, and I borrowed it from her after I got your note," Harry explained.

"Well then, what are we waiting here for?" Harry felt a tug on his sleeve. "Let's go in."

-------------

"Oh, hell."

Potter's key not only took down all the wards, it turned down all the lights, too.

"What do we do now?" Potter asked in a distressed voice. There was some rustling, as if he was turning around to see if anyone was behind them.

Honestly. What a dolt. "Luckily for us, I know how to fix this," Draco murmured, opening the door and pulling Potter inside. He pointed his wand at the ceiling and whispered "Nox!" The lights went off, and they were flooded in darkness.

"Oh," Potter said, in a vaguely embarrassed sort of way. Draco shook his head. This was the savior of the Wizarding World. It was a wonder that any of them were still alive.

There was a rustle as Potter took off his cloak. Draco allowed himself a moment to adjust his eyes to the darkness. When he could see Potter's outline clearly enough, he grabbed hold of an arm and pulled. "Come on." They made their way to the back of the library, where the Restricted Section was.

The Restricted Section wasn't really all that different from all the other sections in the library, except the books, when one looked very closed, had little red marks at the base of their spines.

"Are you going to stay invisible like that forever?" Potter asked in a rather annoyed voice.

Draco smirked. "What, Potter? Am I unsettling you?"

Potter had the gall to scoff at him. "No. I'd just like to see the people I'm walking around in a narrow walkway with. Some of these books are not items you want to knock down or open accidentally."

Well, Potter did have a point.

Draco touched the emerald glinting from the snake's open mouth and whispered the spell that would dispell the glamour. He felt it fall off him like a particularly warm brush of wind. Potter blinked at him, looked impressed. Draco fought down a triumphant smile. The ring was a lot less clumsier than Potter's cloak, that was for sure.

"So what now?" asked Potter. Draco caught the dull glint of Potter's glasses as he looked around at all the books surrounding him. It was likely that Potter had never been in the presence of books without that Granger chit around; he was probably at a loss without her, or something.

"Well." Draco paused, not knowing where to start. "There is a desk over there," he said, pointing. "We find the books by subject, the pull them out and go over the desk and start reading. And, you know, taking notes. The sort of thing one does in a library, with books."

Potter should stop scowling--that look wasn't good on him. Though Draco sincerely doubted any look did. His mind chose that moment to supply him with a thought of Potter standing by the doorway, looking extremely embarrassed and red in the face. Then an image of Potter that Pansy'd reflected in a mirror at breakfast, staring at Draco with a perplexed frown furrowing his brows, thoughtful and without the usual malice.

"What is it?" Potter asked, bringing him back to the task at hand.

"What?"

"You had this weird look..."

"Indigestion from talking to you, I think," Draco told him. "Can we please get on with it? I'd like to get some sleep tonight."

"You talk like it wasn't your idea to sneak in here," Potter mumbled. There wasn't any bite in his tone, and he was already turning to one of the shelves, scanning the titles quickly.