Happily Ever After?

Of Meetings, Orange Marmalade, and Mongooses (Mongeese?)

The next morning, New Year's Day, everyone assembled in the entrance hall at ten o'clock sharp, thoroughly tired from that morning's celebration. Harry shivered in the large, cold hall and pulled his cloak tighter around him. Next to him, Draco yawned. Hermione, Parvati, and Padma didn't speak - they just stood there with their teeth chattering. The seven remaining adults (Arabella had gone home earlier) observed them silently. Finally Sirius cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Well, obviously you've got to get going, kids, or you'll miss the train," he said slowly. "But we've really got to talk first."

"I prefer the term 'young adult,'" Draco protested groggily. "Thank you very much."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Still, there are... things that should not be openly revealed to the public."

"And you know what we mean," James said, looking intently at Harry and Draco, who glanced at each other.

"We are planning on being jolly old enemies again, if that's what you mean," Harry said with a yawn.

"And nothing ever happened," Draco added. "We reveal absolutely nothing about what happened in the past, or over Christmas break, or on Christmas either, for that matter. We just shut our little traps and - "

"Pretend that we never stopped being enemies," Harry finished. "And the whole me and Hermione thing never happened, because it's better to just let people think like that."

"So they don't think Harry's some kind of demented player," Hermione added.

"Right," Harry said.

"And although I still get to be Chaser, Harry simply chose me randomly," Parvati said. "Not that we spent Christmas together or anything. Oh no. Of course not."

"And I just continue pretending that Harry and Draco don't exist, except when cheering on Harry in assorted verbal abuse rallies, Quidditch matches, and minor physical scuffles," Padma yawned. "That about sums it up, right?"

"Basically," Laura shrugged. "Except..."

"I know," Harry said quickly. "Yes. Don't tell anyone about the whole me and Laura thing because suspicions might arouse."

"Eh, let them think what they want," Draco muttered. "As long as they don't cause us any trouble."

"You know you can't do that, Draco," Lily said. "It would be simply too - well, it just can't be done. It's too dangerous."

"You know that, Draco," Narcissa added. "I - and various other people - will update you constantly. And you can owl each other - as long as you don't use your own owls - and don't let anyone else see the letters. You cannot let anyone know you're friends."

"What about in secret?" Harry asked abruptly. "At night. And... you know... on... certain nights..." Draco looked pale.

"Of course," Remus jumped in. "Please do that."

"Because we can't be there. I can't be there," Narcissa said, biting her lip. Sirius squeezed her hand tightly.

"You know what to do," Remus said. "You know where to go... you know what to use to get there..."

Harry and Draco nodded.

"And you know who will help you," Hermione added. "As soon as she can."

Padma and Parvati just nodded, like they knew what she was talking about.

Think I should tell them?

Who? The twins?

Yea... I mean, they're the only ones who don't know. And pretty soon they'll be almost like family.

Wait a while. Harry paused, watching them. Get to know them better. Then tell them. Maybe at Easter time.

"Yea," Draco said. "Yea, right..."

"And you've still got to hang around with your lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle," Hermione added. "Whether you like it or not."

"Crap. I'd forgotten about them."

"And you have to be remotely civil to the other Slytherins, if civil is the right word," Harry added.

"Double crap," Draco muttered. "I'd forgotten that too."

"And you've both still have to pretend to hate each others' guts," Parvati added. "As mentioned many times before. But it's important enough to be mentioned more than once."

"We know," Draco said.

"It's going to be hardest on you, Draco," Patricia said to him. "You know that, don't you?"

"I have known that," Draco said. "For a very long time."

Then why you were ever my friend?

Draco glanced at Harry. You never would have known what he was thinking if you hadn't heard. He wasn't even facing Draco, and Hermione was talking to him.

What?

If you knew it would be hardest on you, why did you decide to be my friend? You could have kept on hating me on your own will just as well, if not better. You still would have had all the Slytherins. Now you only have Hermione and me. Why would you do that? It's not like you.

You make me sound like a self-centered prat.

Draco could picture Harry smiling. Well, you are. It's your nature to be that way.

Well, why are you friends with Hermione? God, I can't answer that, Harry!

Yes, you can. Harry broke off his conversation with Hermione and faced him. His eyes were gentle in one light, and fiery with anger in another. There's something you're not telling me.

Draco looked at him. He walked towards him briskly and hissed at him, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know you haven't told me everything," Harry hissed back. "I'm not mad at you. I think. But I know you haven't told me everything. Something must have happened to trigger it."

"I told you," Draco whispered. "Whether you remember or not."

"Remind me, Draco. What did you say?"

"I told you..." Draco cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "I told you that even if I had Slytherin friends, I realized I didn't want to be like them. I wanted to be good. I saw in you what I wanted to be like. Don't you remember?"

Harry blinked. "No. No, I don't. It was so long ago... well, yeah. Sorry."

"Yea," Draco mumbled. "Yea, I know you are."

"You okay?"

"Yea..."

Harry shrugged. "Whatever you say."

James cleared his throat. "Hello? We've got to get going. Harry, Hermione, you'll be Flooing with Lily to the station. Then, a few minutes later, Narcissa will take Draco, and then Patricia will take the twins a few minutes after that. Okay? Okay." He eyed Sirius. "Sirius, we'd better get going."

"Right," Sirius said. "James and I are Flooing ahead to talk to Dumbledore. He's completely clueless, as far as we know. Well, he's never completely clueless, genius that he is, but we have to talk to him anyway. So say your good-byes so we can get going."

Laura walked to Harry just as he turned to walk to her. "Hi," he said weakly.

"Yea," she said shakily.

"So," he said, gulping. "I'll owl you as soon as I get there. And every day after that."

"And I'll write back everyday."

"And we'll see each other at Easter."

"And you won't forget about me."

"And you won't forget about me."

"I couldn't."

"Neither could I."

There was silence. "I love you, Harry," Laura whispered. "Be safe. Be careful."

"I will," Harry said. "I love you too." Laura kissed him timidly.

"Have fun," she said feebly.

"You too," Harry whispered.

They stared at each other for a whole minute. "I'm going home," she told him. "Owl me."

"Like I could forget."

"Good-bye, Harry."

"Good-bye, Laura." And with a last smile, Laura disappeared.

"Will you be okay, Harry?" asked a voice from behind.

"I hope so, Draco," Harry said, without looking at him. "I really hope so." He turned. "I guess this is good-bye."

"Not really."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do." Draco paused. "We'll be all right."

"Isn't tomorrow...?" Harry asked, his eyes widening. Draco nodded.

"God. Oh dear God. Do you have any...?"

Draco shook his head. "No."

"So you'll be really...?"

"Yea." He scuffed at the floor. "It'll be the first time in a while."

"Meet me in the lobby at six tomorrow, then. And don't forget. We'll go from there."

"Like I could forget," Draco said, laughing dryly.

"Harry, we have to go," Lily said. Harry turned.

"Right. So we do. See you around, Malfoy."

"If I must, Potter," Draco snapped, and smiled at him. Harry smiled back.

"Yea," Harry said. "Bye."

"Bye." Draco said, smiling.

Harry smiled and walked toward the fireplace. He grabbed his trunk from a large pile and took a pinch of Floo powder. He glanced at Hermione, who was struggling with her trunk, and then at Lily, who nodded. "Platform Nine and Three Quarters!" Harry shouted, throwing the powder into the fire. With a whirl, he was gone.

Harry appeared at Platform Nine and Three Quarters with a smile on his face. "Home at last," he muttered.

"Harry!" he heard someone call. He turned.

"Ron!" Harry smiled. Ron stood next to him, panting.

"I saved us a compartment. Need help with your trunk?"

"Thanks," Harry said. Ron choked as he tried to lift it.

"Harry! What do you keep in here, bricks?"

"Just a couple bottles of aspirin," Harry shrugged. "Come on, it's not that heavy..." But Harry winced as he picked his side up. "Let's just get it in. Hermione and Mum should be here any second..."

Harry and Ron pulled Harry's trunk to a compartment and shoved it in. Harry put Hedwig's empty cage on top of it.

"Where is Hedwig?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged.

"Off hunting, I expect," Harry said. "Someone will send her to Hogwarts, I guess."

"How's Malfoy?" Ron asked distastefully. Harry put a hand over his mouth.

"No one's supposed to know about that," Harry hissed. "Honestly. Keep quiet."

"Oh," Ron said. "So this means I can still hate him?"

"Yes."

"Good. That makes my day a whole lot cheerier."

"Harry! Ron!" Hermione called, dragging her trunk towards them, Lily helping her.

"Hermione!" Ron smiled. "Here, let me get that..." Ron took her trunk and shoved it in with the others. "How are you? Oh, hello, Miss - uh, Mrs. - uh..."

"Lily," Lily said. "Please. How's your mother?"

"Fine. She sends her greetings and womanly hugs and all that junk. Which you can just imagine I gave you."

"Right." Lily smiled. She turned to Harry. "Harry."

"Mum."

"Be good."

"I will."

"Be safe."

"I will."

"Don't cause too much trouble."

Harry smiled. "Welllllllll... I can't promise you that."

Lily sighed. "Don't do anything wilder than Sirius would."

"Huh. That's easy. Thanks, Mum. See you at Easter." Harry hugged her quickly. Lily ruffled his hair.

"You-know-who will be here any minute. You cause lots of trouble with him. I mean, between you and him. I mean... fight a lot. Wow. I wonder how many mothers ever say that."

"I will," Harry said.

"And if you need me... just scream loud enough and shatter my pathetic little charm. I'll have aspirin handy."

"Will do." Harry smiled. "Bye, Mum."

"Bye, Harry. Bye, Mione."

"Bye - Mum," Hermione smiled. Lily winked and Disapparated.

"Let's get in before Malfoy gets here," Harry mumbled. "I don't want to talk to him right away..."

"Who would?" Ron pointed out. "This is Malfoy we're walking about. No one wants to talk to pathetic Slytherins. Except other pathetic Slytherins. And valiant Gryffindors keeping the slimy Slytherins away from the poor, unsuspecting Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Slimy Slytherins. Huh. What alliteration. Let's go, shall we?"

"Someone likes to talk a lot," Hermione mumbled as she climbed in, Harry after her. Ron jumped in.

"And who might that be?"

Hermione sighed. "Half the time you're sugar-high, the rest of the time you're an arrogant git. And I'm not sure which you are now."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Ron snapped.

"Well, I think you've definitely got the 'arrogant git' part down now," Hermione said, her mouth twitching into a smile.

Ron sighed. "Girls," he muttered. "I don't suppose you could help me finish off my Potions assignment?"

"How much do you have left?" Hermione asked critically, examining him with distaste.

"Just one question," Ron said. "What are the three main ingredients to a temporary Animagus potion? I've practically pored over our textbook from cover to cover, but I haven't - "

"Eye of newt, three powdered scarab beetles, and a cup of mare sweat," Harry said lazily.

"How did you know that?" Ron asked. "Don't tell me - you couldn't have been - studying?"

"Naw," Harry said. "But I've got a whole bunch of it in my trunk. Along with a huge book I'm about to read and a hell of a lot aspirin." Harry undid the clasp on his trunk and pulled out a thick book.

"What is that?" Ron asked. Hermione smiled.

"Five Thousand and One Ways to Prank Your Worst Enemies (and Best Friends)," she announced, grinning at Harry.

"Christmas present," Harry said cheerfully. "Wonder if they have the Munchkin one in here?"

"I hope not... that's ours."

"Perhaps we should look into an official copyright...?"

"I think so."

Harry smiled. "So good to be going back to Hogwarts," he muttered, lying down with his book. They sat contentedly for a while just like that; Harry leaning on Hermione, Hermione looking out the window, and Ron alphabetizing his Chocolate Frog card collection. The train started moving, but no move was made to start talking. They sat in peace, just enjoying each other's company. Quite suddenly, Harry dropped his book on his stomach and gasped.

"Uhh... a little help here..." he said sharply, struggling to breathe. Hermione turned quickly, gasped shortly, and shoved the book off him. Harry sat up, rubbing his stomach. Ron looked up.

"Wha?" he said. He shrugged and went back to his cards.

"I think I broke a rib," Harry groaned miserably. "My spleen! My spine! My life! I see my life before my eyes... and the light... it's coming closer... it burns..." Harry shielded his eyes from the dim light over the compartment.

"Quite the little pessimist today, are we, Potter?" said a voice from the compartment door. Harry groaned.

"Malfoy," he said, straightening out and glaring. Ron dropped his cards, interested.

"If it isn't Potty and the Weasel," Draco sneered, stepping into the compartment with Crabbe and Goyle behind him. "Oh, and who is that hiding behind you, Potter? It couldn't be Granger, the little M - " Draco almost faltered for a minute, watching her, but continued, "Mudblood. Excellent."

Hermione looked away. Even though he could almost see her containing her laughter, Harry scowled outwardly.

You're a riot.

I'm full of it.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he said.

"Come to flex out the old nemesis muscles?" Ron snapped.

"Oh shut it, Weasel. Some people have better things to do than listen to you Gryffindors."

"Then why are you here, Malfoy?" Harry snapped.

"I just thought I'd give my best friend Potty, Weasel, and Mudblood a visit," Draco said innocently. "You got a problem with that, Potter?"

"As a matter of fact, I do have a problem with that, Malfoy!" Harry snapped. Hermione finally looked back, wiping a tear from her eye.

She's all right, right? Draco asked, glaring at her with concern. (A/N: What an oxymoron.)

I think she's trying not to laugh. I'll let you know.

"Thanks, Potter. I'm glad to know I have your disapproval," Draco said, smirking.

"Like you really care, Malfoy," Hermione snapped.

"Yea, why don't you and your slimy Slytherin sidekicks (A/N: More alliterations!) get the hell out of here!" Ron shouted.

"Well, Weasel," Draco said, sniveling mockingly, "I know when I'm not wanted..."

"If you had, then you wouldn't have come here at all," Harry pointed out.

Draco showed mock hurt. "Oh, that hurt, Potter. That struck real deep. I think I'm going to a corner and cry now."

"Tell someone who cares," Ron muttered.

"Now, that wasn't very nice, Weasel. I know you're really deeply in love with me, but you're just too afraid to say so. Everyone loves me, even you Gryffindor prats, on the inside. Don't feel bad. Wait, sod that. Feel awful. Mope for days. Jump off a cliff for all I care. Just stay out of my face." Draco turned and walked out, Crabbe and Goyle behind him. Hermione waited for a few seconds to make sure they were gone before bursting out laughing.

"You are - so - hilarious!" Hermione panted. "God, I'm going to be awful at this."

"Me too," Harry smiled. "You-know-who wants to know if you're all right, Mione."

"Now even try telling me that sounds right," Ron said, shivering. "Just call him Bill for everyday conversational use. Just keep me out of it."

"Tell Bill I'm fine, then, Harry," Hermione chuckled.

Mione's fine, by the way. But she almost burst out laughing. I can hardly blame her.

Yea. Well, it was our first friendly-yet-not-so-friendly verbal abuse rally. Let's vow not to think at each other during those... only after. You know, we just stand looking into each other's eyes, even with looks of utter hatred, people might, you know, get the wrong idea.

You scare me.

I scare many people.

I mean, you took the words right out of my, uh, head.

Now tell me that don't sound funny. Got to go now, Beaky. People are looking at me.

Oh, don't worry, Draco, it's just because they love you so much on the inside that -

Shut up.

Harry grinned. "I love making Dr - uh, Bill, I mean. Yea. I love making Bill eat his words." Harry sighed with pleasure and took out another, thinner book entitled Is That a Koala or is it Just your Head? A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration.

The rest of the journey was reasonably peaceful, except for the fact that Ginny came in looking for Neville's toad, which was lost (again). As Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Neville climbed into a cart, Harry shot a look back toward the train. Draco was climbing off board. Draco, with his white-blond hair that he was so arrogant about. Draco, with his eyes that were deep silver and showed no emotion. Draco, with his graceful way of moving that made Harry sometimes wonder if he was more than man, more than a boy, but a fallen angel. Draco, with his piercing loyalty to those he loved and his bitter hatred to those who hurt him. Draco, with his habit of shunning those he loves aside with really meaning to do so. Draco, who could talk for hours and hours on end about himself. Draco, who would smirk at the smallest thing. Draco, who had helped him pull pranks on all sorts of occasions. Draco, who had a way of making people care for him, when he felt like it. Draco, his best friend. Draco, who -

"Harry? What are you looking at?" Hermione asked. Harry shook out of his trance.

"Nothing," Harry said abruptly. "Nothing..."

Ron helped him into the carriage. But Harry stayed in a thoughtful mood for the whole carriage ride. He wasn't thinking about anything in particular, just... Draco.

Why was he so annoying loyal? How did he find his way into Harry's heart? How had he so quickly changed Harry's whole outlook on life? Why had Harry broken down to him so quickly? Why, of all the people in the world, were he and Draco the only Bades? Was it just a coincidence? Or was it... could it be... fate? Why was Draco so irritating, and why did Harry find it amusing? What force had driven two worst enemies to become best friends? What force now could separate them? Why were they ever enemies to begin with?

And why, oh why, did Draco - Draco, kind and loving yet sarcastic and frustrating Draco - have to bear such a horrible burden? To carry such a horrible curse?

"Harry?" Ron asked. "Hello, Harry? I asked you a question!"

"What?" Harry asked, snapping back to reality. "I'm sorry, Ron, I was busy thinking. What'd you say?"

Ron sighed. "I asked you if you had picked the new Chaser yet."

"Oh!" Harry said. "Yea. Parvati. She's good."

"Really?" Neville asked. "I never knew she played Quidditch."

"Oh, she's awesome," Hermione said. "I've seen her play. Like she was floating on air. Almost as good as Harry." Hermione elbowed him.

"Of course, some people have to resort to surveys to find obvious answers," Harry grumbled. Hermione snorted.

"Well, those people really should get a life, shouldn't they, Harry?"

"They should indeed," Harry said. "They should indeed."

Draco yawned lazily as dinner went slowly by. His eyes flickered over to the Gryffindor table. He scanned it and found Harry, Hermione, and Ron sitting by each other, talking about something or other. Draco scowled at the Weasel for a minute before turning back to his food. He flicked a pea across his plate. He quickly became both interested and amused by playing sort of "pea hockey" with himself. That is, until a cold voice interrupted his fun.

"Are you going to eat your peas or sit around there playing with your food like a child?"

"Both, Blaise," Draco said, popping a pea into his mouth. Blaise grunted. He was a bit taller than Draco, and had the same pointed chin and long nose that all the Zabini's seemed to have.

"It's juvenile," he responded. "Honestly, a Malfoy with no table manners. Will wonders never cease? Didn't Momma ever tell you to eat your veggies?"

"No," Draco said absently. "Father was always a bit too preoccupied with teaching me Chinese water torture for Mother to get any table etiquette lessons into my busy schedule." Draco continued playing with his peas.

"Look at Potter," Blaise scoffed. "Goofing off with Granger and Weasley. Does no one at this school have any protocol whatsoever?" Blaise eyed Draco. Draco flicked a pea at him with his fork.

"Protocol is highly overrated," he said calmly.

"At least you're better than Potter," Blaise said with a scowl. "You're just trying to tick me off. Potter is actually like that. I pity anyone who calls himself - or herself, for that matter - his friend. So young, so innocent, so naïve."

"Are we talking about Potter or rap music now?" Draco said with a smirk.

You look like you're having an interesting conversation over there, Draco. There was obviously a hint of amusement in his voice. What passes as conversation there on the other side of the Great Hall? Chinese water torture?

Naw, but it HAS been mentioned, Draco replied, bored. Mostly table manners and rap music. And your ultimate demise, of course.

There's a catch every time.

Draco snorted. "What?" Blaise asked.

"I despise Potter," Draco said. "I hope he dies a horrible and painful death, preferably one involving a rubber duck, a wand, and a mango."

"And how exactly are mangoes a cause of death?" Blaise asked.

"Nuclear mangoes. Poisonous mangoes. Exploding mangoes. Take your pick, I don't care."

"What about mangoes that aren't really mangoes, but mongooses in disguise?" Blaise asked with a glint of amusement in his eyes. Blaise could be fun, sometimes.

"Which brings up a debatable topic," Draco said, flicking a pea at the back of Goyle's head. "Is it mongooses or mongeese?"

Blaise snorted. "Are you playing dumb, or are you just honestly stupid?"

"Well, goose is an irregular noun in its plural form, right?" Draco asked, moving his target from Goyle's head to Crabbe's. "So technically, it could be mongeese."

"Well, technically, you sound like an idiot," Blaise harrumphed.

"Well, technically, I do specialize in that area," Draco smirked.

"Oh, you're such a prat."

"Technically, this is true."

"Shut up."

"Well, technically, I don't have to."

"So? Do it anyway?"

"Well, technically I have no obligation to do so, so why should I listen to your technical speech?"

"Because if you don't all those peas are going up your nose."

"Shutting up now," Draco said offhandedly, sitting up straighter.

"Thank you."

"You are most certainly not welcome."

"I'm going to bed," Blaise announced, standing up. "See all you guys later."

"You know, if you think about that, that could be used against you," Draco said, his eyes glinting with bemusement.

"Only if you have a sick, demented mind could you think of that," Blaise laughed. "Which does include you, doesn't it, Draco?"

Draco flicked another pea at him. "Too bad I don't have any mangoes..." Draco trailed off.

"What kind would you use? Nuclear, poisonous, explosive, or mongooses in disguise?" Blaise asked.

"That's not important. And it's mongeese, I'm telling you, it is."

"Good night," Blaise said, walking out of the Great Hall. Draco sighed. Well, his sole source of amusement was gone. He stood up to go up to bed too. But Pansy gasped.

"Oh, Draco, I almost forgot to tell you... you and Potter are to go to Dumbledore's office directly after dinner. Did you get in a fight? Because you know I hate that." Draco sighed.

"Not much. You know, just a little scuffle. No broken bones. It's probably the whole 'Well, you're not really enemies, even though you act like ultimate rivals' thing again. I thought I'd cleared that up. I'll just wait for them there, then. Night, all."

There was a chorus of mumbled goodnights. Draco headed towards the door to the Great Hall.

You know anything about what we're supposed to be in Dumbledore's office for?

No, but George told me I should be there after dinner.

Well, I'm heading down now. Let me know when you're coming.

He might be there - he wasn't at dinner. I'll be out in a minute. See if the coast is clear?

Pretty deserted out here, Draco reported, bored. Should I wait for you?

Would you? I'll just be a minute... Harry broke off. Draco leaned against the wall. A few minutes later, Harry walked out of the Hall briskly, and looked around a second before spotting him.

"Hey," he said, coming even with him. "What's up?"

"Well, let's see," Draco said with a grin. "First of all, there's air. Then the ceiling. And then the treetops. Then the birds, and the airplanes, and space, and then the moon, and the solar system, and possibly some aliens. Throw some gnats and mosquitoes in there somewhere and you're probably good. Yes, that's what's up." Harry sighed and they started walking towards Dumbledore's office.

"You're sure there's no one watching us, right?" Harry muttered to him, glancing around the corridor.

"Not that I know of," Draco shrugged. "Looks pretty empty."

"I guess so," Harry mumbled. "But I've got the strangest feeling that..."

"That what?"

"I don't know... that someone's watching me." Harry glanced over his shoulder. "Maybe I'm not the only one here with an Invisibility Cloak..."

"It's nothing," Draco said, shoving his hand backwards and jiggling it around to show Harry nothing was there. "Here we are, anyway." They stopped in front of the stationary gargoyle.

"Open sesame," Harry said. The gargoyle jumped aside. Harry and Draco walked down the spiraling stairs into the room Draco had grown familiar with over the last month. Dumbledore was seated at his desk, twiddling with something they couldn't see. When he saw them, however, he shoved it into a drawer.

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy. Sit down, please." Harry and Draco glanced at each other warily and sat in rickety chairs in front of his desk.

"I assume you know why you have been brought here," Dumbledore said solemnly.

"Ummm..." Draco said. "No, not really, sir."

"Boo!" said a voice behind them. Harry and Draco both jumped and looked behind them. There, smiling, were Sirius and James. Harry put his hand over his heart.

"God, Dad, you scared me!" Harry said. "I thought you'd be long gone!"

"Well, we wouldn't miss a chance to say good-bye to our favorite boys," Sirius said as he ruffled Draco's hair, much to Draco's horror.

"Did you have to do that?" Draco said to him with a glare. "You have no idea how long I spent putting gel in that."

Harry burst out laughing. "You use hair gel? Oh, that's priceless! Draco Malfoy uses hair gel!"

"Sirius and James made me aware of your - ah - budding friendship," Dumbledore said.

"I prefer the term 'blossomed,'" Harry said, smirking. "It's much more... accurate."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"And I assume you know what risks go along with it?" Dumbledore said, looking at them over his spectacles. There was silence residing in the room. Harry and Draco looked at each other long and hard.

"Well," Draco said slowly. "I know that if the Slytherins find out I'm friends with Harry, I'm toast. Or, knowing the Slytherins, more likely toast burnt to a crisp with a thick coating of marmalade and a dash of salt."

"Grape marmalade or orange?" Harry inquired, his eyes glinting.

"Orange."

"Ooh. That's gotta hurt," Harry winced. "Well, I know that if the other Gryffindors - that is, everyone but Hermione and Ron, because they already know - I'm toast too. But probably a very lightly browned toast with just a thin layer of melted butter."

"No marmalade, you think?" Draco asked.

"No, probably not."

"You lucky dog, you." Draco leaned back. "But seriously, we know that we shouldn't let people know we're friends. It's kind of like things never changed. To the untrained eye, of course."

"Which means... well, don't expect regular visits to your office will stop," Harry said. "Only some people will know it's just a show."

"And hopefully they'll be convinced we're pretty good actors," Draco added. "Don't forget that."

"Yes, don't forget that minor detail," Harry said. "Right?"

"Right," Dumbledore said. "However, there is one other thing..." He eyes Sirius and James and they nodded.

"We'll be seeing you, boys," James said.

"At Easter," Sirius added. "We'll owl you."

"See you," Harry and Draco said as they left. They turned back to Dumbledore.

"What was the other thing?" Draco asked.

"I imagine you both have heard of Iona the Seer?" Dumbledore asked. Harry went white.

"Oh my... oh no... oh God..." he whispered. "But of course you wouldn't remember..."

"Harry?" Draco said. "Harry? What's wrong?"

Harry felt faint. "Don't you remember, Draco? The prophecy. The prophecy."

Draco's eyes widened in realization. "Oh God... oh dear God..."

"It seems you know most of what I was going to tell you already," Dumbledore said. "About Iona's last prophecy?"

Harry nodded faintly. Draco looked sick.

"The one that means we're toast that is so charred it has been reduced to very fine ashes that, if scattered, couldn't be detected by the human eye?"

"Basically, yes," Dumbledore said. "But that's not all. Surely you know that."

"We do," Harry nodded. "About the Order."

"The Ministry," Dumbledore said, standing up and looking out the window, "is in disarray. Although Voldemort has not struck since the Third Task," Harry gulped, "that does not mean he will not in the near future. More than half the Ministry is corrupted, I should think. And Fudge will be next to fall. It is once again time to take drastic measures." Dumbledore stroked Fawkes softly and turned to face them. "The Order of the Phoenix was broken apart fourteen years ago, after the downfall of Voldemort. Or the apparent downfall of Voldemort, I should say." Harry growled. "It consisted of a select few witches and wizards. Mundungus Fletcher. Arabella Figg. Sirius and Remus. Your parents, Harry. Peter Pettigrew. All names you have heard before, correct?" The two boys nodded. "Before 1976, the Order had been lost since the fall of Grindelwald. It took the place of the Ministry when it was obvious the Ministry could no longer be trusted. Cornelius and I had a talk... and we deem it is best." Dumbledore looked at them sharply. "You know what I must ask you... it could be dangerous..."

"But we'll do it," Draco said firmly.

"Of course we will," Harry said. "You knew that, didn't you?"

"I had hoped," Dumbledore said. He seemed - relieved. "Normally I would not ask you, being mere children - "

"Young adults," Draco corrected with a frown.

"But I had intentions of asking a few others in your year," Dumbledore said. "But I was intent on seeing you separately, as there were other matters we needed to address."

"Who else?" Harry inquired.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, the Patil twins, and Hannah Abbott," Dumbledore said. "I think you know why?"

"Of course," Harry muttered. "The Abbott's are the heirs of Hufflepuff, the Patil's are the heirs of Ravenclaw, and then me and Draco..." Harry trailed off. "But why Hermione and Ron?"

"Well, naturally, Hermione's the cleverest witch since - well, for a while, and Mr. Weasley has both a very strong personality and a very powerful magic that he may not know he possesses." Dumbledore's eyes glinted. "Meet in the trophy room with the others at three tomorrow. They will know to be there. You have permission to leave class early."

"How long will it take?" Harry asked, glancing at Draco, who was watching Dumbledore intently, his face expressionless.

"Not long," Dumbledore said.

"Before six?" Draco asked abruptly.

"Definitely before six. Now, you two need to sleep somewhat, as classes begin again tomorrow. Have a good term. I expect to see you tomorrow. You have Double Potions together tomorrow afternoon, correct?"

"Yes," Harry said gloomily. Draco stifled a groan.

Hey, at least we don't have Theorax anymore.

Hmmm, that's true. Quite the optimist we are, Harry.

Harry flushed. Shut up.

"When you're done," Dumbledore said, his tone annoyed, but his eyes smiling.

"Ah. Sorry," Draco said.

"I will inform Professor Snape that you should be dismissed. Trophy room at three, remember."

"We will," Harry said, standing up. "Good night, Professor."

"Yes, goodnight," Draco said, standing up.

"Goodnight, boys. And try not to cause too much trouble. I don't now how much influence the past has had on you."

"Well..." Draco said with a smirk. "Nothing will be permanently damaged. And that's a promise."

"As for everything else..."

"I expect we'll be seeing you quite soon," Draco said cheerfully.

"Or hopefully not, because we won't get caught."

"Ah. Good point."

"Goodnight," Dumbledore said, shaking his head.

"Goodnight," Harry and Draco chorused angelically. As they left the room, Dumbledore chuckled.

"Teenagers," he muttered.

Harry and Draco walked in silence for a minute. Draco then thought of something. "Harry?"

"Yea?" Harry asked, looking at him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you feel like sleeping?"

"No."

"Me either."

"Let's go to the lobby," Harry suggested. "We can always find a way to amuse ourselves there."

"Yea," Draco smiled. "Freaking mind-readers. Take the words right out of your mouth."

Harry beamed as they turned into a room. It turned out to be a kind of mini-library, but Harry looked for a place where the crest might be.

"Harry... over here," Draco muttered. "Alohomora." A bookcase moved aside and the familiar room came into their view. They stepped in, closing the bookcase behind them. Draco flopped onto one of the couches. Harry sat in a chair thoughtfully.

"Hey Harry?"

"Yea?"

"What's the plural of mongoose?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

"What's the plural of mongoose?" Draco asked, flipping over so he was on his stomach and he was facing Harry. "Mongooses or mongeese?"

"I always thought it just stayed the same," Harry said, bewildered.

"Because I was just thinking. Zabini brought it up, actually. Of all the Slytherins, besides me, I mean, he's most tolerable."

"Who says you're tolerable?"

"Shut up. Seriously."

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "I'll ask Hermione. She'll probably know. And if she doesn't, she can find out."

"Sometimes I wonder if she's read every book in that library yet," Draco muttered, closing his eyes.

"You wonder? I think she's gone through twice," Harry muttered.

"Why is fate so cruel, Harry?" Draco asked, not opening his eyes.

"What?"

"I mean, look at us. We're friends. Best friends. Well, you're my best friend, anyway, I don't know about you, but - "

"If you're having doubts, Draco, let me just make it clear - we're best friends. It's mutual. Did you not get the memo?"

"Anyway, we're best friends, and we're forced to be apart most of the time. And we have to pretend we hate each other. You're a Gryffindor; I'm a Slytherin. You're an angel - I'm a monster. You have all the real friends - and I'm left by myself. You come from a background of brave witches and wizards - I'm the descent of bastards for generations back. And somehow we became friends. Like you gave me some of your good, and now we're even. But I still feel so alone most of the time. Why is that, Harry?" Draco opened his eyes and stared at Harry for a whole minute before Harry answered.

"Shut up, Draco."

"What?" Draco had been expecting anything from a wide variety of answers, but that had not been one of them.

"I said shut up," Harry said, his eyes cold. "And if you ever say or even imply that you're a monster and a bastard and that I'm some angel fallen from heaven, and if you even start to think that you are now or were ever my inferior, I will slap you. Hard."

"But it's true, Harry," Draco said quietly, closing his eyes again as he flipped over so he was no longer facing Harry, but the ceiling.

"No, it's not. Unless you want it to be." Harry was silent for a moment. "If you have trouble understanding it, Draco, I'll make it clear. You are my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without you. I want to be like you. I wish I was more like you."

"How ironic," Draco muttered. "I wish I was more like you."

"You know I'd do anything for you, don't you? I'd die for you. I would. I swear, I would, if I had to. Did you know that? It scares me. It does." Harry started to choke. "I mean, I'm fifteen. I'm supposed to be wild and free and a kid. I feel like I never had a childhood. I feel like I've already been destined to do everything - to defend you, to defeat Voldemort, and most likely die while doing one of those.

"It's not that I don't like you. You're a wonderful person. More than you give yourself credit for. You make people love you. You make people want to take care of you, with your excessive whining and all that. That's what I love about you. You make me happy - happier than anyone else makes me." Harry swallowed. Draco looked at him.

"I hate it when you go into dramatic speeches like that. I've never been able to sound emotional like you do."

"Well," Harry said, "that's the price of being a Slytherin."

Draco snorted. "I guess that is why we're friends. Because we were both lonely. And now we're not."

There was silence for a moment.

"I'd better get back," Harry muttered. "Will you be okay? I mean, will you sleep all right? I know you probably don't feel that great... do you want me to walk you to the Slytherin common room? Or the infirmary?"

"I'll be okay, Harry. Really. Besides, I think you're forgetting where we are." Draco got up and opened a door. "This is my room. I do have my own room... even if I'm not a prefect, my father always paid extra for me to have it. He found communal bedrooms disgusting. Probably the only thing we agree on, really."

"Then I'll wait with you," Harry said, his eyes determined. "Until you fall asleep. I want you to sleep tonight."

"You don't have to."

"Did I say I was going to give you a choice? I know you hardly ever sleep before these nights."

Draco sighed. "All right then. Just let me get changed."

Harry groaned and snapped his fingers. Draco's robes were gone -pajamas with ducks replaced them. Draco's eyes widened in horror.

"Cotton. You expect me to sleep in cotton. And no, don't stop there. You want me to sleep in cotton foot pajamas. You really don't know me at all, do you?" Draco sighed and waved his hand. In an instant, black silk pajamas replaced the foot pajamas. "Much better," Draco mumbled. "And you don't have to stay, Harry. I don't need sleep therapy."

"I want you to sleep," Harry said fiercely. "You need to sleep. You won't get any tomorrow."

Draco sighed, gave up, and turned into his room. Harry followed him.

Draco's room was small, smaller than his, but fancier by far. Maybe it was Draco cared a lot more about how he looked, and Harry really didn't. Draco's room was decorated by what looked like a mix of oak and mahogany furniture. There was a large oak four-poster with silvery sheets that Harry would bet his broomstick were silk, and a mahogany dresser with a mirror stationed over it. There was a small oak nightstand, a mahogany table and a two matching chairs.

"When you're done admiring my room," Draco said, eyeing him.

"It's nice," Harry said plainly. "It really is."

"Thank you. I rather thought so myself. I'm going to bed. Stay or go; I really don't care. But, for obvious reasons, should you decide to go, go through the lobby." Draco slipped into his bed.

"I'll get going soon," Harry said, pulling a chair over a little bit so he could see Draco. "I have to write a letter to Laura. But I want you to sleep."

"So you're putting me before Laura?" Draco said, observing him carefully.

Harry didn't answer for a second. Draco flipped over and faced the wall, ready to sleep.

"Of course," Harry said softly. "You always come first. Always." This caused Draco to turn back around.

"I do?"

"Yes, you do," Harry said. His eyes were soft and full of thought. "All the time."

Draco stared him in the eye for a long time. Harry stared back.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"I'm staying here until I know you're asleep."

"I know. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Harry whispered. Draco stared at him for a split second longer before turning and laying his head down on the pillow.

Harry sat there watching him for a very long time. Draco stirred often. His breathing was ragged, and every once and a while he clutched his shoulder, like it hurt him. Harry reached out and put his hand on Draco's shoulder.

"You want me to put a Sleeping Charm on you? That way you can get to sleep, and you won't notice your shoulder."

Draco groaned and turned, facing Harry. "You should have gone a long, long time ago."

"But I didn't."

"What time is it?"

"Midnight."

"Go to sleep, Harry. I'll be fine. You need sleep too."

"I'm not leaving this room until you're asleep," Harry said firmly. "I could hasten the process by putting a Sleeping Charm on you, or you could do it the normal way."

"Would you?"

"Of course I would," Harry said, surprised. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know... I want you to go to sleep, Harry. Put the Charm on me, write your letter, and go to bed."

"See you in the morning, then," Harry said, wracking his memory for the incantation.

"Thanks, Harry." Harry couldn't see Draco's face well in the dark, bit he could picture Draco smiling. "Give Laura my regards."

"I will." Harry closed his eyes. "Sleeperarmius," he whispered. And Draco rolled onto his side. His breathing was more even now. His body rose and fell delicately. He was delicate, Harry mused. More so than he would admit.

"Sweet dreams," Harry whispered. He opened the entrance to the lobby and was halfway through the door when he turned and looked back at Draco. He cocked his head to the side with a smile and snapped his fingers. Although Harry could not see a change, he knew his spell had worked. He grinned widely before closing the door.

Harry climbed into his room quietly, so as not to attract noise. For once, he was glad he had his own room, since he was a prefect. It was messier and less organized than Draco's, but, well, that was to be expected. Harry sat down at his desk and picked up a quill, ink, and a sheet of parchment. He dipped the quill into the ink and paused in thought for a minute. Then he started to write:

Dear Laura,

It's me. Harry, I mean. Well, I mean, of course it is. Why wouldn't it be? And who else would it be?

I'm here at Hogwarts, in my room, thinking about you, like I always do. The train ride was pretty good; Draco and I only got into a minor scuffle. Scuffle isn't even the word for it, really. More like... verbal abuse rally. And then Dumbledore called us to his office to talk about... things. Like the Order of the Phoenix.

He wants Draco and I to join the Order. Not that we have a reason not to, but... it seems like a kind of insane thing to ask two fifteen-year olds, doesn't it? I just don't understand. It doesn't make sense.

Another thing: Draco and I were thinking... what is the plural of mongoose??? Just wondering.

Draco says hello. Hope to hear from you soon.

Harry paused for a minute before writing:

Love,

Harry

He read the letter over several times. It wasn't until the third time he read it that he realized he had mentioned Draco four times in less than twenty sentences. Was Draco really that big a part of his life? It had just seemed so natural to put him in there... how much had Harry changed? A month ago, had he been told he would write a letter with the word 'Draco' in it even once, he would have been convinced the world had gone mad.

That just showed how single-minded people could be.

With a shrug, Harry stood up before remembering that Hedwig had not yet returned. As if on cue, she flew through his open window.

"Right on time, as always," Harry said, stroking her back with a smile. He reached into his desk drawer and gave her an owl treat. "There. Now... I need you to deliver this for me," he said, tying the letter to her leg. "Take it to 31268 Augury Lane. I'm not quite sure what town it's in, but it needs to go to a woman named Laura Hillman. You got all that?" Hedwig hooted softly. "Good. Hurry, please." He sent her off and watched her disappear in the distance. He then sighed and, without even taking his glasses off, collapsed onto his bed, a smile on his face.

The following morning, Harry woke up to someone banging on the door. Harry sat up, rubbing his head. "What?" he said, straightening his glasses.

"Harry!" Hermione said exasperatedly. "We've got class! Come on, you'll miss breakfast!"

Harry groaned, snapped his fingers, and opened the door for Hermione fresh and in new robes. "Sorry. Overslept."

"I didn't see you all evening," Hermione said disapprovingly.

"You're not supposed to be up here, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, coming out from the room across the hall pulling on his cloak.

"Well, you lot slept in too long," Hermione snapped. "If you don't hurry we'll miss breakfast. Grab your books so we can go."

"Coming," Harry said, grabbing his bag as Ron went back in to get his.

"Where were you?" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore's office," Harry said with a yawn. "Draco. Sleep."

"You slept with Draco?" Hermione hissed.

"No!" Harry said. "I was making sure he got sleep! You know what it is tomorrow, Hermione," Harry added in an undertone. "And you do know I'll have to tell him that."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You know I would."

Hey, Draco?

Ugh... what time is it? And why... why am I... oh my... oh Merlin, Harold James Potter, you are SO DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Harry winced and held a hand to his head. He pulled an aspirin out of his bag and took one. Draco...

BLOODY HELL, HARRY, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!!!!!! I WILL KILL YOU, SLOWLY AND PAINFULLY, AND I HOPE YOU FREAKING LOSE YOUR TEDDY BEAR!!!!!!!!

Draco... I don't have a teddy bear.

I - DON'T - CARE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Harry groaned. "Headache?" Hermione asked innocently as Ron came back out with his bag.

"Yes..." Harry said, holding his head. "And I used up the last of my aspirin..."

"Serves you right," Hermione said as they walked down the stairs.

"What?" Ron asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Headaches..." Harry said, touching his head lightly. Ron looked concerned.

"It's not... you know... You-Know-Who?"

"No," Harry laughed. "Just because I'm Harry Potter doesn't mean I don't get a normal headache sometimes."

"Well, it sure doesn't seem like it," Ron muttered. "Nothing else about you is normal."

"Well, maybe that's true," Harry said thoughtfully as they pushed the Fat Lady open, "but, well, it's not Vol - sorry, You-Know-Who. I can just tell."

"If you say so," Ron muttered as they entered the Great Hall. They sat down at the Gryffindor table, Harry resisting to glance at the Slytherin table. He grabbed a piece of toast and put a thick layer of marmalade on it and was about to bite into it when he heard Draco's voice in his head.

What kind of marmalade is that?

Harry frowned over at the Slytherin table. Draco was looking at him, his mouth in a sneer but his eyes wide with shock. The look did not suit him at all.

Orange. Why?

Draco smiled ever so slightly. Harry could hear his laughter resounding throughout his head.

"What the...?" he muttered, before smiling too. He chuckled softly.

You know, pretty soon, you'll be toast with orange marmalade too.

What -?

Before Harry could finish, the mail arrived, distracting everyone. A barn owl swooped down and dropped a letter. Harry put his toast down on his plate carefully before glancing at the Slytherin table, where Draco was smirking helplessly. Harry opened the envelope.

Cotton. Cotton PAJAMAS. COTTON PAJAMAS WITH DUCKS ON THEM! ON ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I SWEAR, HAROLD JAMES POTTER, YOU WILL DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cheers,

Boa

And Harry smirked. Hahaha.

Shut up. And I mean it.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, trying to glimpse the paper. "What is that?"

"Oh - nothing," Harry said quickly, balling it up and shoving it into his bag. "Nothing, I'm fine." He reached down to pick up his toast - but it wasn't there. Instead, on his plate, was something that might have been toast, once... now it was a charred, completely black piece of... well, he guessed it was bread, but he couldn't be sure... and pieces of it crumbled off as he poked at it cautiously.

"Ron, what -?"

And suddenly he understood.

Practicing our long-range spells, are we, Draco?

And all the way across the hall, Draco smiled.

"We've got class," Hermione told Harry. "What are you looking at?" she followed his gaze, but Draco had already looked away, involved in something else.

"Yea..." Harry said with a grin. "Yea, we'd better go."

"Did yo get one of these?" Ron asked, waving a piece of parchment in his face.

"I don't know," Harry said with a grin. "If you'd stop waving it in front of my face and let me see it, then maybe I could tell you." Ron rolled his eyes and handed it to him.

"Oh," Harry said, scanning it. "No. But I talked to Dumbledore last night. We miss an hour off Potions, you know."

"Really?" Hermione asked. "I hadn't checked my schedule..."

"YES!" Ron said as they were out of the Great Hall. "YES!"

"Please don't yell," Harry groaned. "Makes my headache worse."

"What? Oh, sorry," Ron said. "You okay?"

"Yea..." Harry said, rubbing his head. "Yea, I'll be all right. What's first today, Mione?"

"Care of Magical Creatures," Hermione said. Harry groaned.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked. "Don't you want to see Hagrid?"

"Yes," Harry said, "but Malfoy is going to be there. Yea. Happy New Year, I'll say," Harry said, scuffing the floor with his shoe. "I hope he drops dead."

"You don't mean that," Hermione said with a severe look.

"Well. Severely injured, maybe. Fractured spine, or mental retardation. Not dead," Harry smiled grimly.

"I hope he drops dead," Ron said.

"No, I don't think you do," Harry said with a grin.

"And what makes you think I've gone all soft for Malfoy?"

"I didn't say that," Harry sighed. "I had some pain in mind. Some suffering."

"Oh yeah," Ron said wistfully. "Pull that damned ferret by the tail!"

"Gouge his eyes out!"

"Pull his fingernails off!"

"Put a kick-me sign on his back!"

"Spitballs!"

"Name-calling!"

"Burn him to a crisp!"

"And slather him in thick, orange marmalade!" Harry grinned. Ron blinked at him. Harry blushed. "Never mind," he muttered. His eyes met Hermione's.

And you'd think you enjoyed that, she thought with a smile. You can hear me, right?

"'Course I can," Harry mumbled to her. "And I did. To some degree."

You didn't MEAN it, did you?

"What, that I wanted to cover him in orange marmalade? Yes. The other parts? Not really."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron watched them peculiarly.

"What was that about?" he asked.

"Marmalade," Harry answered sweetly. "Hey, Hermione, last night I was thinking... what's the plural of mongoose?"

Hermione blinked. "Isn't it just mongooses?"

"I thought it was mongeese," Ron said.

Harry snorted. "That's what D - Bill. Yes, Bill thought that too." Harry was silent for a few seconds. "Doesn't it just stay the same? Like moose?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it's mongooses."

"Mongeese!" Ron chirped in.

"Mongoose!" Harry snapped.

"Mongeese!"

"Mongoose!"

"Mongeese!"

"Mongoose!"

"Mongee-!"

"Shut up!" Hermione said irritably. "Besides, you're both wrong. It's mongooses. I'll look it up later."

"Gather around, gather around!" Hagrid called. (A/N: Remember when I said I really, really stink at accents? Nothing's changed.) "Today I've got a real treasure for you! You're all here, right? Excellent!" Hagrid boomed, gesturing to a large box. Ron shivered.

"Not... it can't be... not another Skrewt?" Ron whispered. Harry and Hermione shuddered.

"Today I've got some Erklings for you to handle!" Hagrid said. "Now, they need lots of care and-"

"Erklings!" came a voice from the back of the class. Draco's expression was a cross between horrified, disapproving, and amused. And Harry figured it was mostly horrified. "They're a quadruple X on the Ministry's scale! We're not supposed to handle anything on that scale until seventh year! I-"

"Am obviously terrified," Harry cut in, glaring. "Obviously this is a treat for us, because Hagrid obviously thinks we can handle them!"

"I see no treat in being eaten, Potter!"

"You just haven't gotten over the fact that Hagrid got the better of you two years ago!" Ron snapped. "And it's bloody pathetic!"

"I am not! I am simply insuring the safety of my fellow students and - "

"QUIET!" Hagrid bellowed. Harry and Draco both turned and looked at him. "I want to see both of you after class. And I mean it, Mister Malfoy. Now, Erklings are extraordinary creatures..."

As Hagrid droned on about Erklings and their natural habitats, Harry couldn't bring himself to listen.

Nice one, Draco. You got us in trouble.

Thank you for that lesson, Professor Obvious. From a few yards away Draco rolled his eyes. It's not like you bloody GRYFFINDORS can't afford to lose points anyway.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Harry snorted. Before he could add anything else, Hagrid spoke.

"Now, remember, first you've got to make them docile with a with a Passive Charm. That's Passivius, everyone. And then we move on. There should be two for every one of you... wait a second, where's Neville?"

"Hospital wing," Hermione spoke up. "There was an accident with a Forgetfulness Potion..."

"Half of Longbottom's blood is made up of a Forgetfulness Potion," Draco snapped.

"ENOUGH, Mister Malfoy. You can handle Neville's two for that." Harry chuckled at the look on Draco's face. "Now go!" he said, kicking the box open. Harry scrambled for his wand as two Erklings burst towards him, cackling in a high-pitched tone. They were about three feet tall, with an elfish stature and quick, noiseless footsteps.

"Passivius!" Harry said, flinching backwards. The two Erklings stopped in their tracks. Then they turned to each other and started conversing in a squeaky language.

"Once you've got them docile, herd them over here so I can show you how to handle them," Hagrid called. Shrugging, Harry pulled his two Erklings over to Hagrid, catching a glimpse of Draco struggling against four of them at once. With a sigh, he discreetly waved his hand in that direction. Two of the Erklings stopped in their tracks.

Thanks.

Any time you find yourself being bombarded by vicious Greek elves, you know whom to call.

Yes, Sir Harry to the rescue!

Shut up! Harry snapped. He ignored Draco after that, as Hagrid started explaining to him exactly how to feed the lettuce to the Erklings so he wouldn't get bitten, and exactly how to brush the hair-ish substance at the top of their heads.

"Cripes, look at the time!" Hagrid jumped. "Just push them into the box... that's it, Parvati... and go on, I'll see you next lesson, Mister Malfoy, come here, and Harry, don't move. Homework, read the section on Erklings in your textbook, except a quiz!" Hagrid called after the retreating class. There was a series of groans. Finally Harry and Draco were the only ones left. They glanced at each other. Draco smirked.

"I am sick of listening to you to babble on and on and bicker like bloody children! You're fifteen years old; you can take care of yourselves! Ten points from Gryffindor and ten from Slytherin for fighting in class. Now get. I've got another class coming," Hagrid mumbled. Harry and Draco shrugged at each other and headed up to the castle.

"Nice one," Harry said with a smirk.

"Ah, pass the walnuts," Draco sighed.

What have you got next?

Defense Against the Dark Arts. You?

Divination.

Good luck. And may the force be with you!

Draco rolled his eyes as they separated. Until Potions, then.

Yes. Three o'clock.

Right.

Harry bounded up the stairs to DADA. He slipped in just in time: only a second after he sat down next to Hermione and Ron did Professor Brown walk in. (A/N: I realized I didn't have a DADA teacher yet, but... now I do! Yea!)

"Good morning, class," he mumbled, sitting down at his desk.

"Good morning, Professor Brown," muttered the class.

"I'm only here to say," Professor Brown said with a frown, "that I am resigning."

Everyone mumbled something under his or her breath, except Lavender, who looked straight ahead at him.

"You will have a replacement teacher," Professor Brown said. "She should be here any moment... you will continue where you left off..."

"Professor Brown?" Lavender said with a frown. "Why are you resigning?"

"I think you know... Lavender," Professor Brown said. "My time is up here. I am no longer needed."

"But-"

"We can talk about this later, Lavender," Professor Brown hissed. "Owl me, or talk to your mother. I can't take this right now."

Lavender opened her mouth in surprise and nodded quickly. At that moment, the door opened. Someone stepped in and spoke.

"Well, hello class!"

Draco sighed as Trelawney started telling them about the art of dactylomancy as he thought about what was bothering him.

Hell, what is the plural of mongoose?

He sighed again. He sat back. "Mister Malfoy!" Trelawney said. "Are you paying attention?"

"Of course I am," Draco said. "But didn't you know that already, Professor?" Blaise, who sat next to him, sniggered.

"Good one," he mumbled.

Professor Trelawney did not lose it (well, Draco suspected she had lost it long ago, but anyway), but he swore she turned the slightest tinge of red. "Five points from Slytherin."

Draco shrugged. "I wish the old bat would just croak," Draco mumbled. "How much time left until lunch?"

"A few minutes," Blaise muttered.

"No homework will be given tonight," Trelawney said. "Watch the pendulums, my young learners!"

"What crap," Blaise said as they hurried out of the classroom. "Dactylomancy... right, like I'm ever going to predict the future by watching a grandfather clock!"

Draco snorted. "You know we have our YDEC meeting tonight, right?" Blaise said in a lower tone. "It's at six." Draco bit his lip.

"At six?" he groaned. "I thought it was at four!"

"You're kidding! You're the president of YDEC!"

"I've got plans," Draco said. "I can't go."

"You have to, or... He is going to know."

"He already knows," Draco lied quickly. "He is why I can't go." Well, it wasn't a total lie. It was Lucius's fault that he had plans, really, and they never really specified who he was, even though Draco knew very well what Blaise meant.

"Why can't you do what you've got to do at four and come to the YDEC meeting at six when it's supposed to be?"

"Because it doesn't work that way," Draco snapped. "Take over for me, would you?"

"I really don't think - "

"Great. I'll see you in Potions." Draco hurried down ahead of Blaise until he was alone.

Harry... we need to talk.

Can't it wait a few hours? I'm kind of -

No, Harry - it can't.