Happily Ever After?

Chapter 9 - Operation Shake-it-Up

When Draco returned to his new room with his trunk, Harry was pacing the hallway.

"What took you?" Harry asked impatiently. "Did you run into any of them?"

"No," Draco said, making a distasteful face. "Trunk was giving me problems. Wouldn't shut."

"Oh. Dumbledore wants to speak to you."

"Oh," Draco said, scratching his head. "Er..."

"I'm not supposed to come," Harry added. "Here, I'll take your trunk... just... go. He said it was only for a minute."

"Where - ?"

"Hospital wing," Harry said. "With Bulstrode. Go."

Draco shoved his trunk by Harry. "Password is Plato."

"Play dough?"

"Plato, you idiot!" Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, am I the only one who listens in History of Magic? Other than Hermione, that is."

"Since when do you...?"

"Explain later," Draco said. "Gotta run."

And with that he darted down the corridor, leaving Harry staring after him, dumbstruck. Slowly, he shook his head.

"You never know what to expect with that guy."

Draco ran a hand through his hair as he entered the hospital wing. His encounter with Blaise had been close... too close. If anyone tried to attack him again... the Plan might be fruitless... but if they were too quiet, too...

Draco shook his head and entered the closed door. This whole thing was starting to get extremely complicated.

He closed the door behind him and saw Dumbledore and Bulstrode waiting for him.

"Good afternoon, Draco," Dumbledore said softly. "I trust you are feeling better?"

"Much," Draco said. "Thanks."

"I suppose you know that your attackers have been suspended and one hundred points taken from Slytherin?"

"Knew that," Draco said, sitting on the end of Bulstrode's bed. "I relish in it."

"Sirius sent me a Howler," Dumbledore said. "In case you were wondering about him. Your mother got a word in, too."

"Yes, I had been wondering," Draco said, smiling slightly. "What was it about? You let a few teenagers go gallivanting across the countryside and now you go and let one of them get attacked?"

"Something along those lines," Dumbledore said offhandedly. "He was furious. He also added that I'm a batty old coot who needs a haircut."

"He didn't," Draco said in awe.

"Sirius Black," Dumbledore said, "has quite a temper. I also got one from James, if you'd be so kind as to tell Harry that."

"Right," Draco said, leaning back. "But I reckon that's not what you called me here for?"

"Of course not," Bulstrode said. "There's something much more important."

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Draco - listen closely - I'm not sure how to say this..."

"It's about Harry, isn't it?"

Dumbledore blinked. "Yes... yes, it is."

"I figured," Draco sighed. "It always is."

"Harry is - "

"I know what Harry is," Draco said. "He's a hero. And a good friend. A great friend."

Draco's voice was calm and thoughtful. Dumbledore waited patiently for him to surface from his thoughts again before continuing.

"Harry is a hero. But that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say, Harry is in danger."

The news did not have the effect Dumbledore had feared. In fact, it did not faze Draco in the slightest.

"Of course he is," Draco said. "Harry's always in danger. As am I."

"You don't understand," Bulstrode blurted. "Blaise Zabini was given your job!"

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Zabini," she said breathlessly, staring at him. "When you - when we thought you were dead - Zabini was given the job of killing Potter. And he's much more keen on doing it than you were."

Draco almost smiled at the unrecognized irony of that statement. He did not, however. "That doesn't make sense at all. You thought Harry died too."

"There were rumors," Bulstrode said in a voice just above a whisper. "Rumors among the Dark Lord's followers. Rumors that Potter had used a Teleport Potion and killed you, and then run off into hiding."

Draco gaped. "That's insane."

"I know," Bulstrode said. "But that was what people thought."

"No," Draco said, shaking his head. "That's not what I meant. A Teleport Potion needs fresh Mooncalf dung to work, and that night was the full moon. So any dung Harry could have possibly collected would have been a month old, or older. The potion wouldn't have worked."

Bulstrode blinked. "You read too much."

"To read is to know, to know is to understand, to understand is to be powerful," Draco said dully. "Or so my father used to say."

"Well... anyway..." Bulstrode said. "Zabini is underhanded, sly, and cruel. You know him, Draco. And now he'll be seeking vengeance on you, too."

"Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord," Draco said softly. "Father always read the Bible to me. He said it was a good thing to understand the enemy. Zabini knows that. His father and my father are close friends."

"Oh, Malfoy..." Bulstrode said with a sigh. "Your father's a bastard."

"I know that," Draco snapped. "But he was... clever. I learned a lot from him. A lot of horribly nasty things."

Draco sighed and massaged his temples. "Look, I'm watching out for Harry. I'm not letting anyone, much less Zabini, hurt him. I promise. And Malfoys keep their promises."

"You're not a real Malfoy," Dumbledore said. "You're not like them."

"I am a Malfoy," Draco said in a strangely calm voice. "And I'm going to make that a name that someday will be remembered with pride.

"I know Zabini. I know his ways. I'll be ready for him."

"You won't be alone," Bulstrode said under her breath.

Draco stared at her for a long moment before smiling. "So... Millicent," Draco said. "How are you feeling?"

"Same as you," she said with a slightly irritated air. "Except they let you out and left me locked up."

"You can go, Millicent," Dumbledore said. "But I expect you to return every night at eight o'clock sharp to get that boil redressed."

She looked down at her arm and sighed. It was covered with a clean white bandage. Draco nudged her. She looked at him with a slightly puzzled look on her face. Draco lifted up his shirt a tiny bit and Bulstrode smiled.

On Draco's stomach, just where the curse had hit him, there was a small scar in the shape of an x.

"Draco... be careful. Even if it is useless for you and Harry to put on your show... I mean, they know now, don't they? Just be careful."

"If you would be as kind as to escort Millicent to her quarters, they are across the corridor from your own," Dumbledore said. "The password, I believe, is Serpent's Bane. (A/N: Thanks, Billy!)" Draco and Bulstrode has almost reached the door before he called out again.

"Oh, and Draco?"

Draco turned. Dumbledore smiled.

"You can tell Harry that the impostor was just a random minion... that is, unless the name Virginia Michaels means anything to you?"

Draco blinked. "It does sound familiar... while I'm here I ought to see how Hermione's doing... thanks, Dumbledore."

He turned and walked out.

Bulstrode was waiting for him by the exit of the hospital wing. "Well?" she asked.

"I want to talk to Hermione for a second," Draco said. "I - I think she'd like to meet you, if you'd let her."

"Hermione Granger?" Millicent asked, raising an eyebrow. "We've met."

"Well, I'm going to talk to her. Come or stay, I really couldn't care less." Draco turned from her and walked down a few beds to Hermione. Hearing footsteps behind him, he smirked.

"'Lo, Hermione," he said, sitting in an armchair.

Hermione turned to his general direction. Her eyes were not the bright blue Draco loved and remembered. They were slightly dazed and not nearly as bright.

"Malfoy?" she asked with slight disdain.

"The one and only," Draco said.

"Who's with you? It's not Harry or Ron."

"How did you...?"

"The footsteps," Hermione said calmly. "I know their footsteps. And it's a girl with you. Girl's footsteps fall faster."

"One would think you'd been born blind."

"I observe things, Malfoy."

"As do I, as do I." Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Millicent, Hermione. Hermione... meet Millicent Bulstrode."

Hermione choked. "What...?"

"Nice to meet you too," Millicent said calmly.

"Malfoy, I don't know what - "

"Where's the Weasel?"

"Madam Pomfrey let Ron go an hour ago," Hermione said. "He went looking for Harry."

"He won't find him," Draco said, slightly amused.

"Malfoy, I don't know what you're on about, but - "

"Hey, I just wanted to see if you were all right," Draco said. "No need to get jumpy. I'm not about to hex you."

"Nor am I," Bulstrode added. "Merlin, Granger, you're stuck in the past."

"Millicent's right," Draco said, making a face. "The past isn't exactly a great place to be stuck. Trust me."

Bulstrode did not respond.

"Malfoy..."

"Hey, I'm not asking for much. A little common courtesy for... an old friend."

"We're not old friends."

"But we are. More so than you know." Draco paused. "What are you reading?"

"Shakespeare," Hermione mumbled. "Nothing you'd be interested in, Malfoy. Nor you, I expect, Bulstrode."

"Actually," Draco said, almost amused. "I know more Shakespeare than is normal. Or healthy."

"Every time I try to picture you reading something classical, I draw this big blank."

"Alors vous ne me connaissez pas encore, parce que l'esprit du

changement est à mon coeur aussi bien que le vôtre," Draco snapped. "Sheesh."

And he srmed off. Bulstrode lingered for a moment.

"It was nice to meet you," she said. "Even under present circumstances."

And she hurried after Draco before Hermione could respond.

Millicent found Draco just outside the hospital wing. "You're supposed to be showing me the way to my new dormitory," Millicent said in a huff.

"Then follow me," Draco muttered. "Seriously... of all the nerve..."

"Malfoy..."

"I mean, she hardly knows me and she's judging me like some common freak..."

"Malfoy..."

"It's not like I'm stupid or anything, it's just that - "

"Malfoy! Listen to me!"

Draco stopped in his tracks and stared at her. "What?"

"The first sign of insanity is talking to yourself," she said. "The second is blowing up in hospital wings and quoting old wizarding playwrights in foreign languages!"

Draco blinked before smiling slightly. "You understood that?"

"We had the same tutor, idiot," she said. "He didn't speak English, remember?"

"Monsieur Pierre?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. "How could I forget? He would always say..."

"Rappel, enfants, qu'oublier est le plus grand mal !" Millicent laughed. "Every other day we would file into that old classroom of yours at Malfoy Manor and..."

"And he would always call you, 'Mees Boolstrude,'" Draco smiled. "And I was..."

"Meester Mulfey," Millicent smiled. "I remember Blaise would always forget that he spoke French and would answer his questions in English..."

"And then there was that time when Evan put Spello-Tape all over his chair..."

"And when Pansy kept stealing all the chalk every day and he had to conjure more..."

"And then he would conjure more every day..."

"She did it for years, and on our last lesson before Hogwarts..."

"She piled it all on his desk with a note that said..."

"Je suis sûr que ceci deviendra utile. Sincèrement, Votre Classe

Préférée," Millicent laughed.

"And he looked Pansy in the eye and said..."

"I voz vondering ven I vould be seeing dees again, Mlle Parkeenson!" they finished together, laughing. Draco smiled sadly in remembrance as they approached their dormitories.

"We were all best friends back then," he said quietly. "All of us. We didn't realize what coming to Hogwarts would mean."

"Broyeurs de Mort," Millicent whispered sadly. "Chompers of Death. That was what we called ourselves."

"I guess that kind of friendship never lasts," Draco said, shaking his head. "Hey, we're here."

They stopped in front of the statue of Benjamin the Befuddled. "Er... I guess that painting right there is yours," he said, pointing to a portrait of a young girl who was having a tea party with a teddy bear. "This statue is mine. Eh... if you care, my password is Plato. See you."

"Yeah..." Millicent muttered. "See you around."

"Plato," Draco said to Benjamin.

"And the same to you," he chuckled before dropping his jaw. Draco walked in and saw Harry sitting on his bed.

"Took you long enough," Harry muttered. "What did he say?"

"Oh, not much," Draco said offhandedly.

"Then why were you gone for an hour?"

"Was it really a whole hour?" Draco asked, throwing himself into a soft armchair. "Well, I had quite a chat with Millicent about the olden days. And got really pissed off at Hermione," he added distastefully.

"You're mad at Hermione?" Harry asked. "Why?"

"She absolutely refuses to accept the fact that I'm not a brainless, evil prat and insulted me directly," Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whether I like it or not, I'm a Slytherin. And that means I just don't tolerate insults."

Harry sighed. "You take them from me."

"You're different."

"How so?"

Draco looked down and mumbled, "Sdifbcausimntnlovwiyo."

"What did you say?"

"I said," Draco said, not looking up, "that you're different because I'm not in love with you."

Harry watched Draco carefully. He couldn't find any words of comfort. Draco didn't seem to want them.

"I was thinking," Draco said quietly. "I've been thinking, I mean. For a long time. Ever since... you know. Christmas. And... I thought... maybe..." Draco shrugged. "I mean... if it was going to happen at all... it wasn't going to be like that... but... well... it's hard for me to explain..."

"You don't have to," Harry said. "I know."

Draco looked up at him and continued. "But... but then it wasn't her at all... and it's like... like someone's giving me a second chance. And I don't want to screw this one up. But now... now she hates me. She hates me. It's like... like nothing's changed since last year. But so much has changed, Harry." His voice was desperate and strangled. "It's like... like two worlds. And that day... that day in Potions... it marked the end of one..."

"And the beginning of another one," Harry said, looking out the window. "A better one."

"Exactly," Draco whispered. "But she - the one person that I... that I care for as much as you... she wasn't there. Harry... you can't possibly know how this feels. I feel like I'm torn in two. The Slytherin in me wants to snub her. But my other half... my better half... just can't. I want to scream... I want to... to break something... we were just talking, and she was just saying how she didn't think I liked classical books, and I blew up at her. Ironic, really... I hadn't meant to shout a quote from an old wizarding play. Much less in French."

"What did you say?" Harry asked.

"Alors vous ne me connaissez pas encore, parce que l'esprit du

changement est à mon coeur aussi bien que le vôtre," Draco muttered. Harry blinked.

"Do you mind telling me what that's supposed to mean?"

heart as well as yours," Draco muttered. "It's by Plato, actually. Muggles know about him too... but he was much, much greater than they know. He was an ancient Greek wizard. A famous playwright, really, my favorite. It's really amazing, what he did with words..."

"Never knew you were interested in that kind of literature, Draco," Harry said, smiling slightly.

"Crack a joke and I strangle you."

"Point taken."

Draco sighed. Harry reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Draco, the best things in life are hard to get," Harry said softly. "If you really think she's worth it - "

"Of course she's worth it," Draco muttered. "She's worth anything."

"Then just don't give up. It'll take time. Cool down, don't let her get to you. I know Hermione. She doesn't like people who are violent or unfair... I told you about spew, didn't I?"

Draco smiled weakly. "How paradoxical," he said. "Her existence is unfair to me. It taunts me. Like... like she knows I want her and she won't let me have her. That sounds really trite, doesn't it?"

"Only a little," Harry said, smiling. "She can't stay mad at you forever."

"Oh... I wouldn't be sure about that," Draco said offhandedly. "That depends on how well I bottle myself up."

At that very moment Harry heard a slight knocking. "I know you're in there, you two!" came a voice. "I have a message from the bookworm!"

Harry shrank back onto Draco's bed. "Arabella," he said, smiling slightly.

"Hold on a minute!" Draco said. "Password's Plato!"

Arabella walked into the room a second later. "I like what you've done with the place," she said slowly.

"If you're want to discuss interior design, talk to Harry, he's my agent, he did the place," Draco yawned.

"What did Hermione say?" Harry asked.

"The bookworm wishes that Harold James Potter know that she wishes he and his disdainful friend read these books," Arabella said with a bow, dumping a crate of big, fat books on Draco's bed. "She also wishes to make it known that she thinks Draco Malfoy is a stuck-up, smart-aleck, bad-haired, French-speaking, ugly, smarmy git who needs to get a life and some newer reading material."

"Spiffing," Draco said. "Absolutely one-hundred percent spiffing. You wouldn't happen to be going back there, would you?"

"I would," Arabella said, raising an eyebrow.

"Then tell her," Draco said slowly, "that she's a - a..." Draco sighed. "Tell her that I'm not mad."

Arabella raised an eyebrow. "Uh... right. You get to work on those books... there are some for Hermione's condition, and some for... for your assignment. Right. We're having a somewhat impromptu meeting tomorrow evening at five, my classroom. You'll have to tickle the doorknob and say, 'Puddlemere United is awesome,' to get in."

"Great," Draco said. "Only one problem."

"What?"

"The Arrows are better."

"Eh, shush," Arabella said, waving a hand. "Anything else to tell bookworm?"

"Yea," Harry said. "Tell her... that she needs to get over the past. She'll know what I mean. And that we're working hard, and she's going to be reading regularly any day now."

"You two get through those books," Arabella said. "Oh, and Draco... I've got class with you tomorrow, first thing. See you then."

"Do you need help getting through the door?" Draco asked, concerned.

"Why would I?" Arabella asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You see, I only need one more badge for my Wizards' Scouts book to complete," Draco said, smirking. "It's called, Helping Old Ladies Across Corridors."

"Eh, shush."

She walked out. When the door had closed, Harry sighed and picked up a book.

"It's going to be a long night."

Five hours later, night had fallen. Harry sat sprawled across the floor, reading a thick, leather-bound book. Draco was sitting at the desk and trying not to nod off.

"Hey, Beaky?" Draco said with a yawn.

"Yea?"

"Do we know a Virginia Michaels?"

"Not that I know of... why?"

"Just wondering."

Harry scratched his head. "Draco, what does asphyxiate mean?"

"To suffocate," Draco said, stretching out his arms. "Why?"

"How does a foot suffocate?"

"No clue."

"These books are rubbish," Harry sighed. "We're not getting anywhere."

Draco turned a page. "This is the last book on lycantortapy," Draco yawned. "I'm halfway through it and haven't learned a single thing except this guy likes to restate facts a lot. And that his son's mother's husband is his idol."

"Draco..."

"What?"

"Let's take a look at my family tree. There's my dad. He has a son, me. I have a mum, and she's my dad's wife."

"So?"

"Merlin, you're thick."

"Smothered in a blanket of exhaustion," Draco said. "Yes."

"We really ought to sleep," Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "We have classes tomorrow."

"Gah," Draco said simply.

There was silence for a moment. The only sounds were an owl hooting in the distance and Harry turning a page. Slowly, Harry laid his head down on his book and closed his eyes. It was so late... he was so tired... he had to sleep...

Suddenly he heard Draco jump up. Harry raised his head quickly, his eyes wide open. Draco was holding the book he had been reading in his hand, reading, his eyes wide. He slammed the book down on the desk.

"Harry! I found it! It all makes sense!"

"What makes sense?" Harry asked groggily. "What did you find?"

Draco looked him in the eye. "I found out what happened that night."

All thoughts of sleep evaporated as Harry scrambled to his feet and looked at the book. Draco pointed to a paragraph with a shaking finger. Harry read silently.

Contrary to popular belief, lycantorts, like lycanthropes and wolves, are not heartless. Their curse is such; that they may not trust openly, not as wolf nor as human... However, if a trustworthy person is present during a full moon transformation, a most rare and unusual phenomenon will occur... you see, lycantorts, as their curse suggests, are lonely and often alone during transformations... but should one tear, one pure, unselfish tear, shed by one who is pure of heart, should touch them in their mindless state, their curse will be lifted... for all eternity. Such pure, unselfish tears must be shed unknowing of their power, knowing only their source... This is the only way a lycantort's curse may be lifted, by the absolute reverse of the curse itself... The Retanytullibibius Charm is based on hate and hate alone, that those touched by it must resist this hate, should they hope for reverie... but, without the victim's trust the countercurse is nothing... only this loyalty, this pure unselflessness, should lift this hate and mistrust, that the victims be now set free.

Harry blinked. "So... so, that means..."

"That... I'm free," Draco whispered. "Free."

Harry and Draco called it quits for the night after that. Draco was unusually silent.

"We'll owl Hannah in the morning," Harry said. "She ought to know. All fifth years have first period after lunch off on Mondays. Meet the two of us in the library?"

"First period after lunch," Draco agreed. "And we report to Dumbledore after classes, at the meeting."

"Right." Harry looked at Draco critically. "Sleep. You haven't slept for two nights in a row."

"I know." Draco paused. "Owl your parents for me, will you? And Sirius and Mum... please. I have to sleep."

"Of course," Harry said softly. "You need rest, after all we've been through this weekend... 'Night."

Harry was halfway to the door before Draco spoke again. "Harry?"

Harry paused. "Yea?"

"Could you tell Remus too?"

Harry smiled. "Yea. Sure. Anything."

"Thanks, Harry. For... you know."

"Go to sleep."

Draco laid down and Harry left.

What Harry did not know was that Draco did not sleep a wink at all that night. It was the guilt and shame that clouded his conscience that kept him awake.

When Harry had written three letters, he felt satisfied with them. He read them over quickly.

Remus-

Been doing fine. Haven't used any of the potions yet... but I'm looking into sneaking into Snape's office tomorrow night, I'll update you soon.

But that's not really while I'm writing. I'm sure Mum told you about what happened on the full moon. To Draco, I mean. The thing is... Draco's not a you-know-what anymore. It's quite a long story, but I'll explain it all when I see you... I expect at the wedding, if not before. There's just too much to write.

Write soon,

Harry

Mum and Dad-

There's no mischief to report, sorry. There will be soon, though, I promise. Quidditch practice starts up again tomorrow. I'm sure Parvati is excited.

Yes, Mum, I found your memory thingy. I've been rather busy... well, you know. Hermione's... well, she's not exactly well, but, she's not awful, Hannah found a spell that translates books into Braille, making for one very satisfied bookworm. I suppose she's a bit confused about the whole adoption thing... but she just needs time to adjust.

I'm sure you've heard about Draco's and mine little... er, adventure last night. Draco told me you sent Dumbledore a Howler, Dad. Nothing really interesting happening here other than that.

Hermione and Draco had a little... argument. In which, as Draco says, he ended up screaming at her in French. Does she speak French? Just wondering.

Anyway, our endless research has finally become a bit productive. We found out what happened to Draco. He... he's not a you-know-what. Not anymore. Too complicated to explain in a letter. I'll tell you when I see you.

From, Harry

Sirius and Narcissa-

I'm writing on behalf of Draco here, because I've forced him to get some sleep. We've just found out what happened to Draco - and his condition doesn't exist anymore. More details when we see you.

I can't quite speak for Draco on the "Black/Malfoy" issue, but... I'm sorry, Padfoot, but he seems quite set on making the Malfoy name something to be proud of once again. Sorry.

We'll see you at the wedding!

Harry

Harry glanced at them one last time before adding to the one to his parents -

PS- Does the name Virginia Michaels mean anything to you?

Harry turned to Hedwig. "Could you bring these to Remus, Sirius, and Dad?" he asked as he tied the letters to her leg. She hooted.

"Thanks," Harry said, stroking her. "Make them write back."

She hooted once more and flew out of the open window. Harry yawned and laid back on his bed.

It hadn't exactly been the relaxing weekend he'd hoped for.

Everything had happened so fast... it seemed like ages since he had last seen Laura...

Laura...

Harry sat up and rubbed his temples. It was hard to believe that she was dead. Sometimes he forgot it all together. Other times it hit him so hard that it felt like a baseball had been hurled at his stomach.

How could she be - gone? Was she really gone? Could she really leave him like that - without saying goodbye?

Harry reached into his nightstand and pulled out a worm picture frame. Laura looked up at him and smiled, waving. Harry smiled weakly. He saw himself in the background, watching Laura. She paid him no notice as she went back to work.

Harry shoved the picture into his drawer and closed it hurriedly. He closed his eyes.

Gone. She's gone. Gone forever. Gone for the rest of eternity, and I'll never see her again, because she's dead. I never got a chance to say good-bye. And I never will.

Because she's dead.

Harry fell backwards onto his pillow.

It was going to be a long rest of his life.

Well, he might as well make use of it.

Suddenly smiling slightly, he got up and started looking through his trunk.

When Harry woke up the next morning, Ron was standing over him.

"Classes," he said simply.

"What have we got this morning?" Harry asked, sitting up.

"Double Divination and Care of Magical Creatures," Ron said distastefully.

"Ugh," Harry said, throwing his books into his bag. "We'd better get down to breakfast." Suddenly, he grinned. "I really don't want to miss Snape..."

Ron blinked. "Really? I do."

"Er... how's Hermione?" Harry asked quickly as they exited his room.

"Fine," Ron shrugged. "I visited her last night. Hey, where were you?"

"Doing research," Harry yawned. "Hey, did Arabe- er, Professor Figg, did she tell you about tonight?"

"Yes," Ron said, wrinkling his nose. "Harry - what-?"

"Explain later," Harry said. "Hey, do you have a quill?"

He had been searching his bag for a quill before Ron handed him one. He tore a piece of parchment and scribbled something on it.

Hannah-

Meet me in the library after lunch. It's about our assignment.

-Harry

"Assignment?" Ron asked. "What assignment?"

"Again, explain later," Harry said as they exited the common room. "It's amazing, really, that you haven't a clue... but then, I suppose it's not that surprising..."

"Harry, what are you on about?"

"Oh, never mind," Harry said, shaking his head. "I keep telling you, you'll find out tonight. Oh... Quidditch practice tonight!" Harry told him. "Have you been practicing?"

"Only every free moment I've had over the holidays," Ron said with a grin.

"I ought to remind Parvati..." he mumbled. "Well, speak of the devil..."

Parvati was coming up behind them, accompanied by Lavender. "Hey, Parvati!" Harry called. She looked up and smiled.

"Hey, Harry!"

"Quidditch practice tonight!" Harry said cheerfully, running a hand through his hair. "We've got a lot of work to do before our match against Hufflepuff..."

"Oh," Parvati said, her eyes lighting. "Right. Yes, I'll see you there. Six o'clock?"

"Sharp."

"I'll be there."

"You'd better be."

Parvati smiled again and turned back to Lavender. Harry turned back to Ron.

"You wait until you see her... she's brilliant."

"She'd better be better than Colin..."

"Oh, don't worry, she is..."

"Because I don't think our team could stand another Creevey."

Harry chuckled as they entered the Great Hall. "Hey, I'm going to run this over to Hannah... is that her down there? Yes it is... see you in a minute."

Harry darted down to the end of the Hufflepuff table. Hannah was talking to a blond boy. Harry smiled and walked up behind her. He grabbed her shoulders. She jumped.

"Oh Merlin, Harry, what are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" Hannah asked, her hand over her heart. "Listen, I - "

Harry shoved the scrap of parchment into her hand. She read it quickly.

"Did you...?"

"We found it."

Hannah squealed. "Yes, yes. I'll see you around."

Harry winked at her and hurried off. He sat down next to Ron.

"Is Snape here yet?" Harry asked eagerly.

"No... why?"

"Oh, I think he'll be here soon..."

It was at that moment Draco entered the Hall. Harry raised an eyebrow.

Did you sleep?

Yes, actually I did sleep. It was extremely restful.

Hey, watch out for Snape.

Why...?

Oh... you'll see. I just figured we've all been rather down lately...

Oh, Merlin. That's him, isn't it?

Harry glanced at the doors of the Great Hall, which seemed to be the center of attention in the Hall at the moment. A chicken with a donkey's head was running towards the High table.

Yes, that would be him.

Harry laughed out loud and pointed Snape out to Ron.

"What did you do?" Ron hissed, laughing hard.

"Just an old trick... wait, there's more..."

Suddenly there was a pop, and Snape appeared, wearing... briefs. Obviously.

"Ho! The mystery is solved! Snape's a briefs-man!" Ron shouted. This aroused a few laughs.

Arabella was already on her feet. While McGonagall was already shouting at a confused-looking Fred and George Weasley, she shot a glance at the Slytherin table, which was looking rather empty, thanks to lack of six Slytherins. Her eyes fell on Draco, who was trying not to laugh. Draco pointed, and Arabella turned to Harry, frowning slightly. Harry smiled innocently. Arabella was down at the Gryffindor table in a flash.

"My office. Now."

Harry followed Arabella without question. He heard scattered applause.

"WAY TO GO, HARRY!" he heard one of the twins shout. Harry smiled slightly.

When they had reached Arabella's office, Arabella slammed the door behind her. She glared at him.

"You should warn me before doing something like that," Arabella said sternly. Harry grinned at her innocently.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean, I almost fell over laughing!" Arabella laughed, using her desk to support her. "You are your father's son, Harry."

"Well, I wanted to tell you something anyway," Harry shrugged. "We finished our assignment."

Arabella raised an eyebrow. "And the conclusion?"

"Oh, I'll let you wait until tonight," Harry grinned. "But it's good. Really good."

Arabella shook her head. "Just go, Harry. But don't go back to breakfast. I don't think Snape is too happy with you."

"I won't," Harry said with a slight smile. "I've got class anyway. And if you don't let me go, I'll be late."

"Five points from Gryffindor."

"What? Why?" Harry asked.

Arabella broke into a grin. "For lack of creativity."

"Oh, you..." Harry said, shaking his head. He sighed and walked off.

Harry paid attention in Divination that day. He hadn't really meant to, but... it seemed different. Ron's jokes were a lot less funny and Trelawney was making a lot more sense. After all... his life was being directed by a prophecy, wasn't it? So they couldn't be totally foolish, right?

Trelawney was explaining how dragon's breath could be interpreted into prophecies that might take place in thousands of years. To his utmost surprise, she did not predict his death once. Perhaps it was just because he was listening?

Harry neared Hagrid's hut just as the bell rang, Ron at his side. He scanned the small crowd and his eyes fell on Draco and Bulstrode conversing quietly in the corner. Harry walked towards them.

"That was excellent, Harry," Draco complimented. "How'd you get the donkey's head?"

"Eh, tweaked the spell a bit," Harry shrugged. "It was a nice little challenge."

"Was the old lady hard on you?"

"Not at all," Harry shrugged. "Took five points for lack of originality, though."

Draco snorted. "Yea, we had her first period. It was just the two of us, actually. The rest of our class has been suspended."

"She seems nice," Bulstrode said. "But a bit odd."

"Really?" Harry asked calmly. "That's kind of you to say. But she's more than a little odd."

"She's bonkers," Draco said sadly, shaking his head. "Absolutely nutty."

Harry grinned slightly as Hagrid began to talk. Draco was listening politely. Bulstrode was listening eagerly.

Hagrid brought out Pogrebins, which, he said with great pride, he had had imported all the way from Russia for them.

"They're harmless creatures, really," Hagrid said. "Just misunderstood. They might - er - try to eat you, but a good kick should send them flying. Now, if you start to think it's hopeless... that's what they're after, see. They make you go kind of wobbly and gloomy, then they attack when you're least expecting 'em. Any questions?"

To Harry's surprise, Neville raised his hand. "Yes, Neville?"

"You said they make you gloomy," Neville said. "Does that mean they're sort of like dementors?"

There was slight mumbling about this question. "Er, would anyone like to take a stab at Neville's question?" Hagrid asked. "Anyone? Yes, Malfoy...?"

Draco drew a breath. "No," Draco said. "No, they're not like dementors. Dementors are despair. Dementors are whatever our greatest despair is. It sounds like Pogrebins are imitators of dementors. So I suppose they are a bit like dementors. But there's one key difference... Pogrebins attack our physical beings, but dementors attack what we are, our very minds and souls." Draco said all this very quietly.

"Exactly," Hagrid said, beaming. "Ten points to Slytherin." Draco smiled.

"Now, I'm going to release them, you lot just walk around, and..."

Harry didn't hear the rest of Hagrid's instructions. The rest of the lesson he was watching Draco curiously. Whenever a Pogrebin came up behind him, he would make a face, turn around, and kick it over ten feet away. But before long, Harry's own Pogrebin, which kept nibbling on his foot, distracted him.

He spent the rest of the class being forced to remember the Saturday before.

However, he didn't notice that someone kept watching him out of the corner of his eye as Harry talked to Draco. Ronald Weasley gritted his teeth and booted his Pogrebin across the lawn.

When class was over, Harry, Draco, and an unsure-looking Bulstrode walked up to the castle together.

"What did you see?" Harry asked in an undertone. "With the Pogrebin, I mean."

Draco blinked. "My - my father."

Harry bit his lip. "Sorry."

Draco made an unpleasant noise in his throat as they entered the castle. "I'm going up to visit Hermione," Harry said. "I'm not very hungry."

"We could sneak down to the kitchens later," Draco said. "If you're up to it, that is."

"I'm not sure," Harry mumbled. "We've got you-know-what, and then I have Quidditch practice until eight."

"Ah. I'll save you something, then?"

"Nah," Harry said. "We can still make the kitchens. Speaking of that... you know, I could probably get the house-elves to put some potion in the Slytherins' breakfast..."

Bulstrode gulped. "If you do, tell me what food to avoid," she said. "I'd rather not turn into a chicken. It messes up my karma."

"We'll let you know," Draco smiled. "See you, Harry."

"Hey, have you got the book?"

"Yea..."

"See you after lunch, then," Harry said before bounding up the stairs.

When he entered the hospital wing, he found Hermione reading, as usual. "Hello, Harry," she said.

"'Lo, Hermione," Harry said, sitting next to her bed. "How are you?"

"Oh, just irritated, Harry," Hermione said with a sigh of frustration. "Madam Pomfrey won't let me out until tonight! I've missed a whole half year of classes already."

"Hermione... you know everything already."

"Harry!" Hermione said, appalled. "This is our OWL year! Think of what - "

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry sighed. "I'll let you borrow my notes."

"Oh, Harry, you're wonderful!" Hermione sighed.

"Look, Hermione, I wanted to talk to you about something..."

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione... why do you have to be so awful to Draco?"

"Oh," Hermione sighed. "That. Look, Harry..."

"No, you listen to me," Harry said. "Hermione, Draco's been trying really hard to just be your friend. Why do you have to go rubbing it in his face? Yesterday... why do you have to be so downright nasty to him?"

Hermione blinked. "Harry... this is Malfoy we're talking about. He's probably already forgotten."

"No," Harry said. "He came to me after that. And he was really upset. He just wants you to give him a chance. He's been through a lot, Draco. And he doesn't need this to worry about too."

"Harry..."

"Wait, Hermione, I'm not done yet." Harry took a deep breath. "You should have heard him. He was heartbroken. It was like... like one say you were best friends, and now he's rescued you, and you hate him. Why? You two were best friends. We... we even initiated you into the Marauders. He told you everything. How his father hates him so much, how he wished that his father would die... what his father did to him..."

"What?" Hermione asked. "What...?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Harry said. "It doesn't exist."

"How...?"

"Hermione, you don't know him," Harry said, throwing up his hands. "Not like I do. Hermione, he's had so much hate, and so much pain, in his life... you and I were his only breaks of that pain. Why are you such a stuck-up snob to him? You're better than that, I know you are!"

"Harry!" Hermione said, shocked. "You're just trying to make me feel guilty!"

"Guilty?" Harry repeated faintly. "Guilty? You bloody well should be guilty! You're killing him, Hermione! Everyone else accepts him... why can't you?"

"Ron doesn't either," Hermione snapped. "Only Ron and I remember what you two used to be like... what he used to be like..."

"He's changed!" Harry said. "He's not like that anymore!"

"People don't just change like that!" Hermione shouted. "Ron and I - "

"Forget Ron! This isn't about Ron, it's about you, me, and Draco!"

"This is about Ron! Harry, what's wrong with you? It was always about the three of us... you and me and Ron. Now it's about the two of you... you and Malfoy. You've changed Harry!"

"Yea?" Harry said, steaming. "Yea, I have changed. And it was for the better."

"No, it's not. I don't like it, Harry," Hermione snapped. "You're not the Harry I used to know."

"Maybe not," Harry said. "But if you don't get with the picture, you won't get to know the new Harry, and you won't see how much better he is!"

"It's not just me, Harry!" Hermione said. "It's Ron, too. He's noticed. You've been ignoring him whenever stupid Malfoy is around!"

"I can have more than one friend, can't I?" Harry said. "Why don't you understand?"

"Why don't you understand, Harry?" Hermione cried. "Ron and I, we talked about it, and we decided that if you're friends with Malfoy, then you're not friends with us! So who do you choose, Harry? Malfoy... or us?" (A/N: Oh, this would have made a wonderful cliffie... why am I so nice? *sigh*)

Harry stared at her for a long moment. "You're despicable," Harry spat. "I hate you like this. Draco's my best friend... and if you can't accept that, well, you can just have Ron for a friend and forget all about me!"

And with that, Harry stormed from the room.

When Harry was about to enter the library, Hannah was just coming towards him.

"Harry... I've been... Harry, are you feeling all right?"

Harry, who was still red with anger, growled under his breath. "I - hate - Hermione - Granger," he hissed.

"What - you had a fight with Hermione?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," he said as they entered the library. Draco was waiting for them.

"Saved you a sandwich," Draco said, pushing it towards him.

"Fanks," Harry said as he stuffed it into his mouth.

"How's Hermione?"

Harry scowled. "Don't - care," he hissed. "Just - don't ask."

Harry sat down. So did Hannah.

"You've got the book?" Harry asked. Draco took a book out of his bag, opened it, flipped through for a minute, and then slid it towards Hannah.

"Just read the second paragraph down," Draco said in an eerily calm voice.

Hannah read silently for a moment. Her only response was to look up at Draco. Her eyes showed no emotion.

"Wow," she said tonelessly. "That's... great."

"Yea," Draco muttered. "That's one way to put it."

They all stared at each other for a moment. "So... that's it, then," Hannah said quietly. "The answer."

"Yup," Draco said, leaning backwards slightly. "Yes. That's the answer."

There was another moment of silence.

"Have you told anyone else?"

"Nope," Harry said. "We're waiting for our impromptu meeting."

"So..." Hannah said offhandedly. "Why were you so angry a minute ago?"

Harry slammed a fist onto the table. "Hermione," he hissed.

"What'd she say this time?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"And I'd rather I had about a million more Galleons," Draco said. "We don't always get what we want. You see, if you don't answer me, I keep pestering you about it until you tell me. So if you just get it over with, it saves both of us a lot of time."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Really. I don't want to talk about it."

"Tough. Spill."

Harry sighed and suddenly became extremely interested in the legs of the table. Hannah cocked her head slightly to the side as she looked at him.

"Don't make him," Hannah said softly. "You'll find out eventually."

Harry looked up with a look of gratitude on his voice. Draco sighed.

"I suppose that's true," Draco said. "Harry... I just want to know what's bothering you... did you try talking to her...?"

"That was what I was doing," Harry said. "I was talking to her. About you, Boa."

"Oh," Draco said simply. He paused. "What about?"

"Are you that naïve that you haven't guessed?"

"Let's pretend I am," Draco said, "so you'll tell me."

"It wasn't a fair choice," Harry muttered. "No one should have to choose..."

"Choose what?" Hannah asked.

Harry looked up at her, his eyes empty of emotion. "Between friends," he said in an undertone.

Draco closed his eyes, looking peaceful. "Is that so?" Harry didn't respond. Draco chuckled.

"Well, I'm feeling just a tad bit idiotic."

"What?" Harry asked. "Merlin, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Harry," Draco said, opening an eye. "You really didn't know this was going to happen? Oh, that's sad..." He closed his eye again. "Maybe I was wrong to think that not all Gryffindors are completely foolish."

"What are you talking about, Draco?" Hannah sighed. Draco did too.

"Merlin, they've gotten the Hufflepuffs too."

"Who has?" Harry asked, squinting at him.

"The spirits that decide to make people stupid."

Harry groaned. "If you're trying to say something, just say it."

"I'm only saying that you're naïve if you never guessed this would happen," Draco said softly. "It was rather obvious, Harry."

"What was?"

"That Hermione and the Weasel wouldn't appreciate me." At first Harry thought he was joking... but one glance at him and yo could tell he was serious.

"So," Draco said, opening his eyes and sitting up straight again. "Who did you choose?"

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, who did you tell Hermione you preferred? Her and Weasley... they could help give you fame, money, anything you wanted, they could help you get it. Revenge, even. Or you could have chosen me. Me, I can't give you much. I'm still an outcast - a traitor in the eyes of both sides. But what I can give you is my friendship. And I will... if you let me.

"So who did you choose? The terrific twosome - who can get you anything in the world... or me? I know who I would choose, if I were in your place and you in mine."

Harry stared at him for a long moment. Draco stared back, his face perfectly emotionless and his silver eyes gleaming in the glint of early afternoon sunlight. "Merlin, you're thick," he hissed. "I chose you. And I'd do it again, too."

Draco smiled slightly and sat back. "So Hermione's not speaking to you, either?"

"Nope," Harry said with satisfaction. "And I'm glad."

"Do you find it merely coincidental that she's mad at both of us at the same time?"

"No... no, I don't."

"Nor do I."

They sat in silence for a moment. Hannah cleared her throat.

"Well, I don't know about you, Draco, but I know Harry and I have Herbology together in ten minutes. You'd better get on to class too."

"Yea," Draco said, not taking his eyes off Harry. "I should."

Harry kept staring. "We'll see you at... well, you know."

Draco turned to Hannah. "Can I have my book back? Thanks."

Draco stuffed it into his bag. "Hey, Harry, if you're up for the kitchens after you're done with practice, I'll be in my room."

"I'll bring something to keep us occupied," Harry smirked.

"I'm sure you will," Draco smiled. "See you two,"

"Right," Harry said.

"Until later," Hannah said.

Draco was walking to the door before Harry called to him.

Draco?

Draco paused, but did not turn around. What?

Who... who would you choose?

Draco slowly turned. "Whom do you think?" he whispered.

And Harry knew.

Harry couldn't concentrate in Herbology, despite Hannah poking him every few seconds. Ron kept trying to approach him, and Harry kept moving subtly but decidedly away from him until Ron just stopped altogether.

Harry was nearly bitten several times by the Venus Fly Traps they were repotting. While Hannah was lecturing him about exactly how this project must be executed, Harry snuck a glance at Ron. Ron was talking to Justin and Susan Bones rather happily, as if nothing had happened.

Harry felt his anger throb violently. How could he - how dare he - how could he act like nothing strange was going on? How could this effect him so little when he, Harry, felt like the world was about to end?

Hannah nudged him again. "You've only done one plant and lesson's half over. What's wrong?"

"What...?" Harry said. "Oh... oh, nothing..."

Hannah gave him a look of pity as she transferred one plant to the other. "Harry... you can't let them get to you this way forever..."

"I can," Harry said, crossing his arms. "And I will. I'm not going to apologize because all I did was tell the truth."

Hannah sighed and shook her head. "As if we haven't got enough to worry about. Do you realize how fast our OWLs are approaching? This side of Christmas it seems so much closer..."

While Hannah launched into another lecture about the tests, Harry quickly repotted three more plants. One tried to bite him and he smacked it over the head. It was with decidedly heated feelings that he left Herbology.

"...and then the Eater Bunny came and gave us all the flu. Isn't that right, Harry?"

"Uh huh," Harry said absently.

"You're not listening to me, are you, Harry?"

"Uh huh."

"Harry! What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Uh huh."

Hannah waved a hand in front of his eyes. "Hey!"

Harry blinked. "What?" he asked, looking at her.

"You have to get to class."

"Oh. So I do."

Harry made no motion to move.

"Harry... to get to class, you must walk there. As in, you put one foot in front of the other rapidly. Remember?"

"Oh... yea..." Harry said, snapping out of his trance. "Yes... see you later."

"Take care of yourself."

"Of course."

Harry walked off to Transfiguration without another word. Hannah sighed and started absently winding her hair around her finger.

Wow, Harry's thick, she thought. Thicker than I had counted on. But then, I suppose that's a bonus for me... he isn't supposed to guess... I can't let him guess...

Hannah allowed herself a slight smile before walking into the Charms classroom.

I just hope Draco doesn't guess. Oh, Merlin, that would be the end of me.

Harry's classes went slowly after that. Each moment seemed like a century. Harry was longing for the ringing of the bell... and the bell led to another class, in which he desperately awaited the ringing of the next bell, and...

What a wonderful froogling paradox, Harry thought to himself. Finally. History of Magic. Last class. And we have it with...

The Hufflepuffs came into the room chattering merrily. Hannah sat down next to Harry.

"Have you been paying attention, Harry?" she asked sternly.

"Why do you say that?" Harry said, frowning slightly.

"Because Gryffindor has twenty less points than they did before lunch."

"Your point is...?"

"Guilty by association," Hannah said firmly. "Case closed."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Right. Whatever. I'm exhausted."

"Well, you're up for a long night," Hannah said, frowning. "I overheard Pat and Rose - our Beaters - complaining that you had the pitch booked from six to eight."

"Uh huh."

"And before that we've got... you know."

"Uh huh," Harry said, stretching.

"And after that I reckon you've got some prank up your sleeves."

"Uh huh," Harry yawned.

"Here," Hannah mumbled, discreetly placing something into Harry's pocket. "It's a Wakefulness Potion. We made it in Potions. I think it came out pretty good."

Harry smiled wearily. "Oh, thank you. Really. That's the nicest thing you could have done. I mean it." Harry put one hand over his pocket. "I'll take it with my pumpkin juice. Thanks."

Hannah smiled lightly. "Any time. So..." Hannah lowered his voice. "Have you talked to Ron at all?"

"Nope," Harry said. "Nor do I intend you."

"Harry..."

"You can't make me," Harry murmured as Professor Binns glided in through the chalkboard. "And I'd like to see you try."

"I won't," Hannah said softly. "But that doesn't mean I don't think you should."

After that, Hannah became absorbed in taking notes. Or so Harry thought. He was too busy staring at the clock for him to notice the girl at his side who kept glancing up at him, a sad smile on her face.

When History of Magic was finally over, Harry got up quickly.

"About time!" he muttered. Hannah sighed.

"Oh, you..." she murmured to him. "You're so... annoying."

"Really? I relish in it," Harry laughed. "Maybe I am spending too much time with Draco. I'm starting to sound like him."

"So much that it scares me," Hannah agreed. When the two entered the Great Hall, they separated. Harry sat down on the very end of the Gryffindor table, far from Ron, or any of the Weasleys, for that matter. It was Ginny that seated herself next to him.

"Hello, Harry," she said.

"'Lo, Ginny," Harry mumbled, not looking up.

"What's bothering you, Harry?"

"Things... wait, who says I'm bothered anyway?"

Ginny looked at him like she didn't know whether he was being sarcastic or just honestly stupid. She decided on the latter. "Ron," she said, as if it were obvious (which it kind of was). "He says you've been ignoring him since lunch."

"Which is when I visited Hermione," Harry said. "Go on, put two and two together."

"So... Hermione made you mad at Ron?"

"No..."

"Harry, you're not making sense."

Harry blinked. "Well, kind of. She just revealed the fact that he was mad at me."

"Now why would she do that?" Ginny asked, wrinkling a brow.

"Because she's a stuck-up bookworm-y prat who thinks she knows everything, that's why," Harry snapped.

"Harry, what's wrong with you?" Ginny asked, alarmed. "You're not like this..."

"What's wrong with them?" Harry asked furiously. "I'm not the one with the problem, Ginny."

Harry sighed and jammed a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. Ginny squinted at him.

"Harry, what's making you like this?"

Harry wiped his mouth on a napkin and glared at her. "Just because I had two friends, doesn't mean I can't make more, right?"

"Right..."

"What's wrong with me being friends with Draco?" Harry said, trying to hold his temper and failing miserably. "It's not like I'm in love with him... wait... oh Merlin, YUCK! Give me a moment to cleanse my mind of bad images." Harry closed his eyes and slowly rubbed his temples. "OK. I'm better now. As I was saying..."

"You're sounding like a total git, Harry," Ginny sighed.

"Why, thank you. I'll keep that comment in mind if I ever see you being torn to pieces by a Lethifold."

"Lethifolds don't tear - they suffocate you."

"Oh, whatever," Harry sighed. "Hey... do you think they're distantly related to mothers with Overreaction Syndrome?"

"Shush, Harry," Ginny said, annoyed slightly. "Tell me what Hermione said and maybe I'll leave you alone. I'm worried. This is two friends and my brother I'm talking about. Because you're my friend, Harry, even if I'm not yours."

Harry chewed a piece of pork thoughtfully before swallowing. "Fine. Hermione decided to be a total jerk to me. She said I could be friends with her and Ron or friends with Draco, and not both. I'll give you one guess who I chose, with her being in such a foul mood. I'd rather have one friend who's really my friend than two friends who talk about me behind my back."

Harry took a vial out of his pocket, dumped it into his pumpkin juice, and drained it. His eyes flew open. "Well," he said. "That's loads better. I ought to go, Gin. Would yo be so kind as to remind my ex-best friend, your brother, not to be late for he-knows-what, and to remind my other ex-best friend?"

Ginny blinked. "Whatever, Harry."

"Thanks a bunch, Gin." Harry stormed out of the Great Hall. Ginny saw someone at the Slytherin table roll his eyes, get up, and follow him.

"Boys," she muttered.

Harry did a double take quickly. Then he entered the boys' bathroom. "Alohomora," he muttered. He scrambled through a door and slammed it behind him.

He turned and blinked.

Draco's face was about three inches away from his, looking highly surprised.

"Well," Draco said, backing away and flopping onto the couch. "I was just about to sneak into your room and snag the Marauders' Map to find you, but I suppose there's no need for that anymore."

Harry rolled his eyes and sat on the chair across from him. "Ugh," Harry said simply.

"Ugh what?"

"Ugh I can't believe Ron and Hermione are such prats."

"Oh. I guess that's an ugh for me too."

"You're despicable."

"I know."

They sat in silence. "Were you talking to the Weasel?"

"No," Harry said, glaring. "I was talking to Ginny."

"It's the same thing, no?"

"Merlin, you're annoying," Harry mumbled. "You're almost as bad as them. But not quite," he added, seeing the look on Draco's face. "No, you're just doing it to bug me."

"Now that's the spirit," Draco said cheerfully. "So... was the - er, Ginny being a naughty girl?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "No. Just prying into business that isn't hers."

"Would that be business of the recent unpleasantness between you, a certain bushy-haired Gryffindor, and a certain red-headed Weasel?"

"Yes."

"Ugh."

"What was that ugh for?"

Draco sighed. "Women," he said, shaking his head. "Can't live with them... can't live without them."

"Ain't it the truth," Harry said quietly. Draco respected Harry's need for silence for a moment.

"You OK?"

"No," Harry said flatly.

"Right. Stupid question." Draco sighed.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked.

"Another extremely stupid question," Draco said, looking at the ceiling.

"Yes, I suppose it was." Harry sighed and sat back, looking into a crackling fire. "Hey... Boa?"

"What?"

"We should put our own memories in here."

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Right next to theirs," Harry continued. "We could do it. It can't be that hard."

"Harry... there are five problems with your plan," Draco said, counting on his fingers. "Problem one: it's insane. Problem two: we don't know how. Problem three: we can't find out how, because Dumbledore's probably had the book destroyed. Problem four: we don't have an emblem. Problem five... Harry, that's just crazy."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Solution one: no, it's not. Solution two: we can find out. Solution three: yes, we can find out, because even if we can't get the real Marauders here, they really are here already, even if you can't see them. Solution four: we make one up. Solution five: you are, too, but you don't see me complaining."

"Harry... that's just crazy. Besides, we'd need four people to make an emblem."

Harry scrunched up his face. "Gah. I'd forgotten that."

There was silence. Harry's face suddenly brightened. "We get more people," he said, as if it were obvious. "Not right away, I mean... we can have, I don't know, some kind of test. Obviously they don't know they're being tested, but..."

Draco blinked. "Who...?"

"Oh, just... you know, people we know," Harry said, shrugging. "Obviously, they have to go through a strenuous training period..."

"Obviously," Draco said, starting to grin.

"And, of course, they must meet some requirements..."

"Like what?"

"Like, they can't be a git."

"Oh... well, that works."

Before long, Harry and Draco had filled up a roll of parchment with ideas.

(A/N: Harry is regular... Draco is italics.)

A Guide to Maraudering

By Beaky and Boa

Within this roll of parchment shall be written the initiation process of a true Marauder.

Yes. A list of requirements... just because you meet all requirements does not mean you're in, it means you may be considered, if we feel like it.

Necessities

Round 1

If you meet all requirements, you are eligible.

But it doesn't mean we'll let you in.

Yes. First there has to be at least two weeks of "bonding" time. If we don't get on well with you, you're out.

If we don't get sick of you after two weeks, you proceed to round 2.

Round 2

Here's how round 2 works. The present Marauders play a prank.

And we see how you react. If you laugh, you advance to level 3.

If you don't -

You don't advance. This round if rather easy.

Round 3

If you've gotten this far, you're doing reasonably well. But this one's a toughie.

Right. How it works is we play another prank. But on you.

We show no mercy.

No mercy at all.

If you blow up at us...

Well, you fail. Thanks for trying.

If you find it amusing...

You proceed to the very last round. Good luck.

Round 4 (The Last One You Participate in)

We tell you... things.

Secrets.

Secrets that only Marauders can know.

And if you react badly... well, sorry, you're gone. We Memory Charm you and shove you out.

But if you react reasonably...

You will be taken into consideration.

Round 5

Ok, you have nothing to do with this round, but we're going to write it down for our records anyway.

We (the present Marauders) give the matter serious thought. This isn't a light matter.

No... no, indeed. This isn't a club of any kind. It's a group of friends. And we have the power to chuck you out during your 3-month probation in the beginning.

We Marauders have it tough. Being a friend - and having friends - like this can be strenuous, tiring, and just because we're Marauders doesn't mean we don't fight.

But if we decide to let you in... we promise you, it will be a rewarding experience. This isn't something that only lasts in our Hogwarts days, nor is it something that should be taken lightly. Once you're a Marauder, you can't step out unless the others chuck you out.

This is used only in extreme cases.

If you make it, congratulations. If you don't... sorry, but you're just not up for the challenge of this kind of friendship.

Harry and Draco glanced at each other. "Do you think that sounds fair?" Harry asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Yea, I think so... so... eligible candidates..."

"Er..." Harry thought for a moment. "Parvati and Patil?"

"Ugh, double trouble?" Draco said, wrinkling his nose. "No, I don't think so. I mean, come on. Can you picture them helping us with our pranks?"

"Ugh... no," Harry said. "No, that was a bad idea."

"Don't even think of suggesting any Weasleys," Draco said.

"Oh, don't worry, I wasn't," Harry said. "And you can't suggest Hermione."

"Ugh. No way. We're mischief-makers, remember? She'd just try to stop us. Besides, she currently hates both of us, remember?"

"It's kind of hard to forget," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "What about... Hannah?"

Draco thought hard for a moment. "Do you think she'd like us pranking?"

"Can't hurt to find out, can it?"

Draco nodded and wrote down her name. "Who else?"

"We are limited to one other person," Harry said, biting his lip. "Let's make it good."

They both thought hard for a long moment. "What about Millicent?" Draco asked quietly.

Harry blinked. "Bulstrode? Have you gone mad?"

"No, just listen to me for a second..." Draco sighed. "Millicent... I think she's lonely."

"Draco... she's a Slytherin."

"And what am I, dragon dung?"

"Well... you're different."

"She is too," Draco said. "She's... I don't know... she's just misunderstood. Hear me out, Harry. I've known her longer than you have. She always used to play pranks on our old tutor. She's going to be with me all the time anyway. She stood up with us, remember? She's not that bad. Besides... if she doesn't pass, she's not in."

Harry stared at him for a long moment. "Yea..." He sighed. "I suppose they both deserve a chance. What time is it?"

Draco checked his watch. "Harry! It's five to five!"

Harry jumped up. "Merlin, if we're late, she'll skin us alive!"

"Just leave this here," Draco muttered. "What's close to the DADA classroom?"

"Charms, I believe..."

"I'll check to see if the coast is clear..."

Draco signaled for Harry to follow him out and the two ran to the DADA classroom. Draco tried to force the door open. It bit him.

Harry rolled his eyes as he tickled the doorknob. "Puddlemere United is awesome."

The door opened and Draco, lamenting his finger, walked in after Harry.

"Right on time again," Arabella beamed.

Ron through a horrible glare in their direction. Harry and Draco exchanged looks and smiled.

Harry sat next to Hannah, Draco on his other side. They were on the other side of the classroom from Hermione and Ron.

"Did you take it?" Hannah asked sternly.

"What a greeting," Harry said. "Yes, I did, and I'm feeling spiffing. Thanks again."

Draco blinked. "Huh?"

"Eh, forget it," Harry said.

Professor Dumbledore stood up and started telling Ron and Hermione about the Order of the Phoenix.

"Of course we will!" Hermione said.

"Why wouldn't we?" Ron asked.

Dumbledore smiled gently. "Excellent."

Arabella gave them each a pin. Harry turned to Draco.

"Whose did you get?" he hissed. Draco turned part of his cloak over so Harry could see his pin.

Orion Black

Sirius Black

Draco Malfoy

Harry smiled at him. Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Arabella has kindly informed me that Harry, Hannah, and Draco had completed their assignment. Would said people please tell us the product of their research?"

Draco sighed. Hannah beamed.

"Well... you see, it's actually very simple... our project was to study the Retanytullibibius Charm and look for ways it can be reversed."

Hannah started to explain, with supporting comments from Harry and Draco. Harry took over at the part Draco had found the night before. When he had finished, the students blinked.

"What does that have to do with Voldemort?" Hermione asked scathingly. "It seems completely irrelevant to me."

"Well, then, maybe you should get a clue," Draco snapped.

Hermione crossed her arms and stared down at her desk in anger. Ron glared. Harry glared back.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, his eyes warm and inviting. "You may sit."

Harry suddenly realized they had stood up and he sat. Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Quite obviously, we had an eventful weekend."

Parvati coughed something that sounded almost like, "Understatement."

"So... a brief review of the last meeting. Padma and Hermione... you were supposed to be looking into the genealogy of the Brown family, correct?"

Padma coughed and looked at her sister. "Yes," she said meekly.

"How's that going?"

"Er..." Padma couched again. "It appears random generations starting joining of with Dark forces."

Arabella raised an eyebrow and rubbed her temples. "You really should check your staff backgrounds, Albus," she sighed. "Next thing you know you'll be hiring old Voldie himself."

Dumbledore chose very wisely to ignore this comment. "Ron and Parvati... I do believe your assignment was to look into Daily Prophet headlines and watch for a pattern?"

Parvati sighed. "I've gone back as far as last June, and the only thing that keeps popping up is that you and Harry are bonkers. Sorry, Harry."

Harry sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I was surprised."

Professor Dumbledore sighed. "Very well. Thank you very much, all of you. Your new assignment - this is for all of you - spells that may cause damage to the eye - blindness, specifically. Reasons are obvious. Any word, contact me or Arabella. Dismissed."

"Quidditch practice," Harry said to Parvati, but loudly enough so that Ron could hear as he led Hermione out of the classroom. "In half an hour. You'll be there, right?"

"Of course," Parvati said.

"What're you riding?"

"Nimbus 2000."

Harry nodded in satisfaction. "Impressive. Will you come a few minutes early? I want to show you something."

Parvati shrugged. "I was just going down to warm up anyway. So I'll see you whenever."

"Yea. Until then."

Parvati ran off in the direction of Gryffindor tower. Harry looked at Draco.

"Shall Operation Shake-it-Up proceed?"

"Huh?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow and wondering if he had heard Harry right.

"You know. What we were working on."

"I think I must have missed the part when we dubbed it 'Operation Shake-it-Up.'"

"Well..." Harry said. "I was thinking. We should be able to discreetly mention it, right? So Operation Get-More-Marauders was no good. So... it kind of shakes things up, I mean with all the - er, boring stuff that's been happening lately?"

Draco blinked. "You've got quite an imagination."

"Thanks."

(A/N: If you really want to know where I came up with that, it came off the thing of Pounce Cat Treats that's sitting in front of me. So my muse and I give credit to Heinz Pet Products. *Bows* Very unoriginal, I know...)

"Er... yes, I suppose Operation Shake-it-Up should commence," Draco said, still looking at Harry as though he were mentally ill.

"Hey! Hannah!" Harry called. Hannah turned.

"What?"

"Isn't next week a Hogsmeade weekend?" Harry asked discreetly.

"Yes... and...?"

"You want to come down with me and Draco for a butterbeer?"

Hannah blinked. "Er... sure... meet you in the Three Broomsticks at two?"

"On Saturday."

"Right."

"See you then."

With that, Hannah walked away, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. Harry didn't notice that. He was too busy looking curiously at Draco, who was holding a hand over his mouth and trying not to laugh.

When he was sure Hannah was out of hearing distance, Draco cracked up. He put a hand on the wall to support himself as he doubled over with laughter.

"What," Harry said, "do you find so funny?"

Draco wiped a tear of absurdity from his cheek. "You," he chortled.

"What did I do?"

A fresh wave of hilarious laughter came over Draco. His laughs echoed through the empty hallway.

"Why are you laughing?"

Draco stood up straight, still chuckling. "You realize you just asked Hannah out, right?"

Harry's jaw dropped in shock. "I -I did, didn't I?"

"You put smoothness to shame, Harry," Draco laughed. "Merlin, you should have heard yourself! You sounded so..." Draco became so overcome with amusement that he couldn't continue.

Harry stared at the place where Hannah had been only a moment ago. "I feel like an idiot," he stated plainly, to no one in particular.

"You are," Draco assured him.

"You don't have any plans Saturday, do you?"

"Well, you see, I have this thing with you and Hannah that I never really had a say in," Draco mused. "Does that count?"

"Good. Then you go tell Millicent to come too. Or just make sure she's there. I don't really care how you get here there, just get her there."

"Oooh, can I use blackmail?" Draco asked in mock excitement.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Quidditch practice," he sighed. "I'll see you at eight, okay?"

"My room?"

"I guess."

"I'll raid your trunk for supplies."

"Have fun," Harry said.

"I - I can't believe you asked Hannah out..."

Draco became incapable of intelligible speech after that. Harry glared and walked away.

After a quick stop at Gryffindor Tower to grab his Firebolt 3000, Harry made his way onto the Quidditch pitch. He saw a blurred red figure zooming across the sky. He watched Parvati do a couple loops before clapping loudly. She stopped in midair and swerved so that she was facing him.

"I wasn't expecting you for another ten minutes, at least!" Parvati yelled down to him. "I've been Summoning apples and using them as Quaffles!"

Harry grinned as he mounted his broom. "I want to show you something." He flew up to her and hovered in midair.

"What?" Parvati asked, letting her hair out of a loose ponytail and shaking it out.

"Give me one of those apples."

Parvati tossed him one. "What, hungry?" she teased. Harry glared for a moment before tossing it back.

"Now, I want to try a few simple passes before the others get here. Just to get you into shape again. You were amazing back at the Manor but, well, I'm no Chaser, so..." Harry's voice trailed off. Suddenly he zoomed around to the other side of her.

"Well, come on then!" Harry coaxed. "Let's get started."

Parvati chucked the apple back at him and zoomed towards the opposing goalposts. Harry rocketed after her.

"Catch!" he said, hurling it at her. She caught it and dived. She pulled up on the other side of Harry and threw the apple to him. Harry flew in a circle around her before tossing it back to her.

"Try it from there!" he called. Parvati threw the apple clear through the left goalpost.

"Excellent!" Harry said. He held out a hand and the apple came to him. He turned to face Parvati when something hit him on the back of the head. He looked down and saw another apple falling towards the ground. He turned and glared.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"Well, you are a Seeker," Parvati called, flying to the other end of the pitch. "You DO need Bludger practice!"

Harry rubbed the back of his furiously, glanced at the apple in his hand, and flew quickly over to Parvati and chucked it at her. She caught it and threw it threw the middle goalpost. She stuck her tongue out at him. Harry put out a hand and the apple ran back into it. Parvati blinked and flew to the other side of the pitch in terror. Harry zoomed after her.

"Take that!" he said, chucking it at her. "And that! And that! And that!"

Harry took to Summoning apples off the ground and hurling them at her. Pretty soon she started catching them and throwing them back. Once in a while she'd toss one through the goal hoops for good measure.

"HEY, HARRY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Harry glanced down at the ground and saw that Fred and George Weasley had arrived. "You're ten minutes early!" he said.

"Yes, well, we had realized that, Harry," said one of them - Harry thought it was Fred.

"Well, come up and join us, then!" Parvati laughed, throwing another apple at Harry. Harry ducked it and growled.

"Oh, you are so dead!"

He Summoned an apple and chucked it at her. She caught it and tossed it down to one of the twins. They looked at each other and grinned, flying into the air.

Before practice had officially started, Fred and George conjured up baskets full of apples and attached them to the front of their brooms. The brooms were a bit slower and harder to keep from tipping frontward, but they managed. They would chuck apples hard at Harry and Parvati and they caught them and threw them back. A twin would catch it again and put it back in the basket. After a while, Parvati started throwing them through the goalposts, and Harry gradually started passing them to her so she could do so.

When they saw the rest of the team approaching, Fred and George dropped their baskets. "Don't let Ron see us fooling around with you," George said so that Harry and Parvati could hear. "He'll be furious."

Harry rolled his eyes and dropped his apple. So did Parvati.

"Oi, Harry! What are you doing?"

Harry beckoned Angelina and Katie (Alicia had quit) up to them. Ron came too, though looking thoroughly as though it had not been his choice to show up.

The team hovered in a circle. "Everyone, Parvati's our new Chaser," he said proudly. "She's brilliant."

Parvati desperately wished she had an apple to throw at Harry, but was content to glare at him mildly.

"Now... We're going to split up and we'll play a mock game," Harry said. "Fred, George, do you have your bats?"

They glanced at each other and dived down to the ground. When they returned, they were each holding a bat.

"Okay, here's how we'll play..." Harry said. "One side of the pitch. Fred, you're team one... George, team two. Ah... Angelina and Parvati... you'll play with Fred, I'll try to play Chaser with Katie... George, go release one Bludger and bring the Quaffle up, please?"

George zoomed off to the ground and ran into Madam Hooch's office. "Oh, and you," Harry said, just remembering Ron. "You just Keep for both sides."

Ron gave him a glare, but nodded. Suddenly the Bludger came zooming between the six of them, causing them all to jump. Fred hit it towards the other side of the pitch with his bat.

"Oi, at least give us a warning, twit!" Fred said. George grinned as he came up, tossing the Quaffle to Harry.

"Let's just play already!" Angelina said. "Look, the Bludger's coming back..."

"Okay... I'll throw up the Quaffle and we'll start... get over by the goalposts, you... ready, and... GO!"

Harry threw the Quaffle up and ducked... sure enough, he felt the Bludger graze the top of his hair.

He looked up and saw that Angelina had the Quaffle. She passed it to Parvati, and Parvati back to her... until Katie intercepted and chucked it at Harry. Harry, startled, flew towards Ron and made to throw it in the left post. Ron flew in front of it, ready. Suddenly Harry changed directions and through it clear through the right goal. Ron, scowling, dove down to get it and threw it to Parvati, who threw it to Angelina... and so on and so forth.

The Quidditch practice went rather well, with Fred and George doing equally good Beating and Ron catching a few shots. Parvati got the most by him... that made Harry proud.

"Catch something, for Merlin's sake, Weasley!" Harry shouted at him as Ron missed another one of Parvati's shots. "We're going to go down to Hufflepuff if you don't shape up!"

Ron did not reply.

The rest of the practice went by rather quickly. Before they knew it, George was wrestling the Bludger back into the box and everyone was landing.

"We were good," Harry said. "Parvati, you were extraordinary, better than I'd dared to hope..." Parvati beamed at him. "But we're not going to win anything without solid defense," he said, glancing at Ron. "I don't want any missed balls, Weasley. You need practice."

There was a pause. Harry felt a sudden urge to throw an apple at Ron's face. He resisted.

"Wednesday, everyone!" he reminded them. "Keep it up!"

Harry watched everyone leave before mounting his broom and flying up about fifty feet and looking up at the stars. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You want to tell me why you're mad at Ron?"

"I'd really rather not, Parvati," Harry said quietly.

Parvati shrugged. They stood hovering there for a moment before hearing a strangled cry.

One glance downward and Harry knew who it was. The moon reflected Draco's platinum hair brightly. Harry chuckled and dove down until he was about three feet about Draco's head.

"'Lo, Boa," Harry said. "What's up?"

"It eight-ten," Draco said, jumping up and grabbing Harry's foot, which brought him down to the ground with a jerk. Harry fell on his back.

"Ouch," he said weakly, smiling at him.

"Sorry," Draco said, not really meaning it. "I swiped the Marauders' Map, and you were here with - oh, hello, Parvati."

Parvati had landed next to them. "Hello, Draco," she said.

"Uh huh. Anyway," he said, turning back to Harry, a mad glint in his eye, "you were late."

"Oh. Sorry. We ran a little late," Harry said sheepishly. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. Sure, Harry. Anyway, I had the most brilliant idea about the kitchens..."

"Oh, bother," Harry said, getting up. "Sounds like there will be no time for me to get ointment to put on my back."

Draco bit his lip. "Is it really that bad?"

"I'll live," Harry said simply. "Maybe not in maximum comfort, but hey, life goes on. See you, Parvati," Harry said, picking up his broom.

"Same time Wednesday?"

"Be early," Harry said, grinning. "I have an urge to chuck apples at Fred and George..."

Parvati laughed. "See you around, Harry," she said, running up to the castle. Harry and Draco set off slowly.

"I've talked to Millicent," he said.

"And...?"

"And she says she'll be there."

"Great," Harry sighed. "Operation Shake-it-Up is underway."

"Honestly, of all the insane names... though I suppose the plan itself is a tad more crazy..."

Harry laughed and they walked in silence for a while.

"I talked to Hermione and the Weasel, too," Draco said, looking upwards.

"Oh?" Harry said. "And what came of that?"

"Oh, several things," Draco said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "None very pleasant."

"Like...?"

"Like, Malfoy, you're such a git, leave us alone - Get away from me, Slytherin scum - and, perhaps my favorite - JUST GET OUT OF OUR BLOODY FACES, YOU PIECE OF FLITH!"

Harry flinched. "You think you know someone," he sighed. They made their way down the stairs to the kitchens.

"Anyway," Draco said, his eyes lighting up as he pulled out two vials. "Here's the plan..."

As Harry listened, he laughed.

Draco most definitely had two extremely sides of his personality. And Harry knew which side he liked better.

A/N: AHA! Another chapter up! I am so proud... I've been updating rather quickly... *gives self back on back*

I am extremely proud to say that all pieces of French are the results of countless hours of looking up words in a English-French dictionary. I would tell you what they mean, but it's midnight, I'm too tired, and I think you can kind of guess what they mean by their context if you're too lazy to look them up.

Also, any Shakespeare references - I'm not sure how obscure or how many there may be - belong to him, not me. Not that he can sue, because he's long dead. They came as a result of reading waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much Shakespeare in one sitting...

I had to postpone plot - again. Gah. The whole Operation Shake-it-Up is NOT plot cause that would be a rather stupid plot... rather, it's sub-plot... wait, can you have sub-plot without having plot to begin with? Well, it becomes sub-plot... anyway...

In answer to a few questions...

I'm evil, so I'm not going to answer the question of whether Draco is evil or not.

This goes for the "Who dies?" question too. As well as the "What's the ship?" as random most graciously pointed out.

Laura will make a cameo appearance in some later chapter... I'm not sure which.

If you have any questions regarding to references to previous chapters and are too lazy to look it up (don't take it as offense, gummysugar, I'd be too lazy to look it up too), email me at [email protected] and I'll be in touch soon. You see, I'm too lazy to go back and see if there's anything that should have a reference. One of these days I'll get around to it...

Hermione's "blindness" becomes plot-essential (meaning that it may not become important for a few more months, at least).

Millicent... *sigh* What can I say, I've fallen in love with her character. She kind of makes up for Laura... *sniff* but not really...

James has a unique nickname for Mundungus. Or at least he does now.

Thanks for all reviews, if you have questions email me, I'm falling asleep writing this, so just review, please. I'll respond in 24 hours or you get your money back (not that I charge anything to begin with).

Now... on to my vacation plans...

I'm going to Yellowstone for a family reunion. *Unenthusiastically* Yay. I'll be gone July 30^th (the day before Harry's birthday! Hurrah!) to August 18^th. So I'll be gone for a while, but I expect to come back bursting with ideas... So, yeah, I'll just keep posting ASAP.

~Lily Granger