When You Say Yes

"I believe that lovers should be tied together, thrown together into the ocean in the worst of weather, left there to drown in their innocence."

- Bright Eyes, "A Perfect Sonnet"

This mind, this body, and this voice cannot be stifled by your deviant ways.

- Fiona Apple, "Sleep to Dream"

--

Hermione and Ron shuffled through the airport haphazardly, like odd versions of themselves in a forgotten Marx Brothers movie. Hermione had her backpack over her shoulder casually and walked through Heathrow airport. Her long brown waves bounced on her shoulder with every measured step. Ron followed her about ten steps behind with three suitcases and two laptop cases on his shoulders. His red hair was in shambles atop his head, the front bits matted down to his forehead by sweat.

Hermione stepped up to the ticketing counter and bent down to retrieve the tickets out of her knapsack. Ron followed her and tried to put everything down at once. But his momentum was too strong... he fell forward onto her, causing a chain reaction that forced them both to the floor.

There was a prolonged shuffling of limbs before they rose to the counter.

"Ron," Hermione said sternly. "Let me carry some of that next time."

"No, I can handle it. I'm the man, after all."

"You are so frustrating. Isweartogodyousonofa..."

"...Tickets?" the polite middle-aged man behind the counter asked, extending an arm to the frazzled couple.

Hermione grumbled something and handed the man their tickets.

"I STILL don't see why we're doing this. I am perfectly sure that Harry can handle himself," Ron said grumpily, leaning his back against the counter.

"For the millionth-billionth time, this isn't even about Harry. God. How many times do I have to say that?"

Ron looked at her with the words "yeah right" clearly imprinted on his face. "Hermione. You have never ONCE indicated an interest in going to Los Angeles. I don't see why you feel you have to go now," he said throwing up his arms in the air.

Hermione lowered her voice. "I want to... um... see... the LaBrea tar pits."

"The what?"

"Well, there are these... tar pits... and they killed off a bunch of dinosaurs and preserved them really well... Probably the best-preserved dinosaur bones in the world. And I also want to see the Getty Museum. It has Van Gogh's Irises and a bunch of Monet's stuff as well as some really brilliant architecture, which I've always wanted to see. I hear there is this amazing pact of wizards somewhere around there and I want to meet up with them and see some of their American shops. Oh, yes, and Disneyland. There's always Disneyland!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "As wildly stimulating as that sounds, and as much as I have always wanted to visit Disneyland, I don't believe you for a second. I can't believe you're taking a sick week off for this."

Hermione shrugged. "Okay, fine. Yes. I want to see Harry," she said while taking back the tickets from the man behind the counter. "I want to see what he's up to. I had this horrible dream a few nights ago about him and I want to make sure it's not true."

"Pretty expensive trip if all we're basing it on is a hunch."

"I guess," Hermione said and looked down, biting her lip. She fumbled for an excuse. "But... well... you bought that flat screen television last year!"

"Do you always have to bring that up? I thought your cousin's was just really wicked, is all. And I had never had a television before, and... wait, stop changing the subject."

Hermione used her pout card... a very rare move but it usually did the trick. "All I'm asking is for some sympathy. And it's not just like I'm asking you to go out of your way for one of my best friends. Harry is like family to both of us. And I can't believe you're not even the least bit concerned."

Ron sighed. "I am. I am. I just don't think that we should go out of our way of bothering him."

"I checked his hotel this morning and I found out that he's not even checked in it anymore. Don't you think that's a bit strange?"

Ron shoved his hands in his pockets. "Umm. Yes. But..."

"You're running out of excuses. Let's go."

----

Harry's back hurt. He didn't remember why. He couldn't really open his eyes. Oh wait. No. His eyes were open. It was all black around him. There was no light in the room at all.

"What--?" He reached out a hand to grope his surroundings. There were bars surrounding him. He felt a gentle swaying sensation that could have only come from being suspended.

"Hello?" He cried out suddenly, aware of how feeble his voice sounded. "...Hello?" He asked again, even though he was not expecting an answer. His voice reverberated in the darkness.

Harry had never been in such a dark place in his life. There was absolutely no difference between when he was closing his eyes and when he had them opened. It was scary, in a way. When he had been younger he had wondered what it was like to be blind. He would try closing his eyes as tight as he could in his small cupboard under the stairs and see if he could navigate his hands, remembering where he had put his things on the shelves. It had been a precautionary measure back then... Just in case he ever actually did become blind.

He wasn't very good at it. It was at that point that he had decided that he wouldn't like to be blind. He had also never been a fan of darkness. It seemed to him that bad things were almost always associated with the night and blackness (with the exception with Sirius Black, of course).

He sighed and carefully lay down on the ground. He wasn't really excited about this turn of events. He missed Draco's big bed and the high thread count of Draco's bed sheets and the beautiful California weather and Draco's hot body and Draco's stupid little quirks and Draco's narcissism and Draco's...

Okay, so maybe he missed Draco. And yeah, sure, so maybe Draco was the first person he wanted to see as soon as he got out of this situation. It's not like that made them soul mates or anything... Or mean that he even loved him... Or anything stupid like that.

"Fucking hell. It's not like I really planned to fall in love with the stupid git," Harry said aloud without thinking. He heard some footsteps about five steps away from him.

"Harry Potter is awake, Dobby sees."

"Dobby? Is that you? Are you here?"

"Yes sir. Dobby is here."

"Why you little... You know, I'm going to absolutely murder you as soon as they turn on the lights."

"The lights are on, sir."

"..."

"Dobby is very sorry, sir. Dobby didn't want this to happen like this, sir. But my allegiance to Mr. Malfoy is sworn by blood, sir, and the vow of a house elf is never to be broken. Even when I achieves freedom I is being tied to him. Dobby is very sorry, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby hopes that Harry Potter will not think poorly of him for what he has done."

"I'm sorry... But did you say the lights are on?"

"Yes sir."

"What the hell did you do to me, Dobby? Why can't I see?"

"Dobby had to put a blindness charm on you, sir. So you couldn't escape, sir."

Harry slumped back against the wall again. "Oh. Well fuck me up the arse then," he said unhappily. This was just too much, even for him.

---

Draco saw Harry sitting up, finally. He had seen Dobby from his little post across the way on a wooden stool. Apparently, the stupid elf was in charge of keeping an eye on the two of them. He had so many taunts and insults ready that...

But no. He could not speak. He hadn't been wide awake for the silence charm, all he knew was that he was awake and incapable of any sounds whatsoever, except for a slight mewing noise, similar to that of a kitten. He felt like he had no tongue. It was rather slimy, actually, a very disgusting feeling.

The stupid elf was now talking to Harry. Goddammit. He wanted to shout out to Harry, who was not more than twenty steps away in another cell, tell him that they could get out of this together. Tell him that they just had a moron and some easy charms in between themselves and their freedom.

He had never realized what an absolutely vocal person he was before he had lost his speech, but this was absolute torture for him. Potentially, not having the gift of speech was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Well, this and breaking up with Harry way back in Hogwarts.

And... was it his imagination or was the first thing that Harry said as soon as he had woken up was that he had fallen in love with him? Draco's heart did mini-somersaults.

Love is a wonderful thing. But it doesn't get out of big, tall, dark cells in the middle of.... wherever your crazy father has decided to trap you. (And by this point Draco was almost 100% that this was due to his father's machinations. The whole thing reeked of his theatrical and over-the-top taste.)

Draco was pretty sure that he could use his powers of persuasion in order to convince Dobby to let him out... that was, if he had been able to retain his voice. He tried to think of some way to get Harry's attention by using some sort of Morse code tapping or something.

That would have been a really amazing idea, had he known Morse code.

He tried to think of something else that might get Harry's attention.

He looked around at his cell. It was quite cramped, actually. And plus, he was swinging in the air above some sort of pit that was over a massive void of blackness. Harry was about ten feet away from him in a similarly airborne cage. Dobby sat on a ledge between them, armed with a large wooden club.

SHIT.

There was nothing in his cell except for a bowl that magically filled at intervals with water or bread. Neither of these would make much attention for Harry as he wouldn't know what to do with them. No, what he needed was some sort of recognizable tune that Harry would be able to associate with some sort of intelligent creature, and through logic, realize that Draco was here with him.

Now, how to do that...

--

Harry was really fucking irritated. He had been through loads of shit in his life. All considered, he was damn lucky to get out of Hogwarts alive. And yeah, sure, he knew that he would be getting a lot of action out of his job as an Auror, but he was currently debating a new line of work... something that would be significantly less prone to trouble. He was already the famous Harry Potter. He could continue to be that without all the added stress that being an Auror brought him. He considered new lines of work: What if he were to drive the Knight Bus? Maybe he could write his memoirs down, make a bunch of money off the royalties. Maybe he could get Hermione to spell check it or something. Or he could be a bartender at the Leaky Cauldron and regale people with his stories about Voldemort and then get really big tips from them.

Yeah, he was tired of all this action business. He was prioritising his life. He wanted first of all to stop being blind, find Draco and then, after this whole nonsense was over, maybe move in with him back in England and adopt some kids and have them go off to Hogwarts. He no longer cared what anybody thought of him. But he did want Draco to quit it with the drugs and such. What would the kids think?

Just as these thoughts were crossing his mind, he heard....

Tap, tap, t-tap tap.

It was "Shave and a Haircut." Shave-and-a-haircut.

"You shouldn't be doing this, Mr. Malfoy," cautioned Dobby, his stern voice belying a quivering, frightened core.

A surge of excitement flooded through him. Draco.

Tap tap, he responded by knocking his knuckles on the floor beneath him. Two bits. "Draco?" he called out hesitantly. "Draco, is that you?"

No answer. He swung his head around wildly in his perceived darkness. To his direct left he heard heavy breathing mingled with the sound of a cat mewing. Dobby, who he had established to be directly in front of him and to the right, was making a distressed whimper, like that of someone who felt they had made a terrible mistake and would soon be paying for it.

Then, very suddenly, he heard a rattling sound, a clattering sound. Metal against metal. It stopped after a moment.

"Draco?" he called out again. "Draco can you hear me? Talk to me, already, you tosser!"

The rattling began again, enthusiastically. Draco. In a cage, next to him.

Okay, so if Draco is next to me, then... A silence spell, of course, Harry thought. I'm blind, he's mute, harder for us to communicate. And, really, quite poetic.

"Seriously, either you or your master has a penchant for unnecessary tragedy," Harry said. "And, if I to place a wager, I would say it was Lucius. Your idea of a gripping slice of drama is a Very Special episode of the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air."

Dobby gave a small sigh. "Harry Potter knows Dobby very well."

The soft mewing noise returned -- happier this time, less urgent. As if a cat were to be capable of laughter.

Harry wished he had the gift of sight for only being able to see Draco with these strange feline noises escaping his beautiful mouth. The perversity of it would entertain him for the rest of his life. He would only have to close his eyes and envision his handsome love forced to mew. Or rather, he would probably never want to close his eyes again after his situation as a blind man, so perhaps not.

"All right," Harry said, finally, injecting his tone with an authority and firmness he was not actually feeling. "Dobby, please let us out. I would appreciate it very much and, seeing as I'm asking you nicely, it would be kind of you to comply. I don't want this to get ugly, or for anybody to get hurt."

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter, but Dobby cannot."

"Why not?"

"Dobby is forever tied to Mr. Malfoy. Even when Harry Potter set Dobby free, Dobby was still tied to Mr. Malfoy. Dobby, and Dobby's father, and Dobby's father's father, and Dobby's father's father's father, and Dobby's father's father's father's fa--"

"Meeeeeeeeeeeeew."

Harry smiled. Obviously Draco-cat-talk for 'Get on with it, already, idiot.' Harry took his cue.

"Dobby, we don't have all day, really."

"Actually, sir, Harry Potter does. Mr. Potter and Mr. Draco will be in your cages for as long as Mr. Malfoy says. And, as Dobby was saying, Dobby and his family have been tied to the Malfoy family for as long as anybody knows. There has also been a spell linking us together and although Dobby's family has tried very hard to break this spell, we have not been in luck."

"But I set you free. How could--"

"When Harry Potter set Dobby free, Mr. Potter only released Dobby from the day-to-day activities of taking care of the Malfoy Manor. But Mr. Malfoy only had to say another spell and Dobby would instantly be under his command," Dobby said and sighed. "Dobby is very, very, very sorry."

"Oh, no, it's fine Dobby. Obviously you had no recourse. I understand perfectly."

"Mew mew mew?"

"Yes, Draco, I mean, Dobby was under the influence of magic. Perfectly natural. He had no choice. But, really, Dobby, becoming my personal assistant? That's just... well, rather low and deceitful, don't you think?"

"After Mr. Draco left school, Mr. Malfoy called Dobby into his service once again. Everything Dobby did was because of Mr. Malfoy. Dobby is sorry."

"So I suppose that if we were to try and get out, you would have to stop us. Or try to."

"Yes, sir."

"And there is absolutely no way to convince you to take off these spells?"

"No."

"Are you going to kill us?"

"Not Dobby sir, no."

"But we are going to die, yes?"

"Yes, probably, yes." Dobby's voice was small and hard and full of remorse.

"That's rather unfortunate."

"MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW!?"

"Calm, down, Draco. At least you've still got your sight. I'm sitting here, afraid of the dark, and blind of all things."

"Mew mew mew mew?" This could have only meant: 'You're afraid of the dark?' Then more cat-laughter.

"Shut up, you slag."

A wounded mew followed, then silence.

--

The three of them sat this way for what seemed like hours, but must have only been a few minutes. It is amazing how awkward social circumstances, begun by real or imagined betrayals, can have an affect on how one perceives the passage of time. Harry was angry, most because he could really see no way out of this situation, but also partially because he was blind and that was just Not Fun. Draco was angry because he loved talking -- it was probably his favourite thing -- and now he couldn't, and plus, he was locked up. Also, that wanker Dobby had come back to serve for his father which was just rather frustrating. And the whole impending death thing wasn't very pleasant, either, now that he came to think about it.

After fifteen hours, or minutes, whichever, there was a crash at the side of the door. Harry's heartbeat began to speed up, Draco felt his eyes almost pop out of his head.

There, standing in the doorway, was Hermione, bug-eyed, taking in the situation.

"Harry?" she called out. Then: "Dobby? Draco?"

"Hermione! Get Dobby!" Harry yelled.

There was a scuffle and the sound of spells being whooshed across the scene. Draco let out a disappointed mew.

Dobby was panting. "How did Harry Potter's friends know he is here?"

"Dobby, what did you do to her?" Harry asked, stunned.

A new voice entered the scene. "Are you quite sure he's here, Hermione?" There were more steps at the doorway. "...Hermione?" Ron entered, his eyes twice as big as Hermione's as he surveyed the scene. He stared at Hermione for a moment before becoming fiercely protective. He whipped out his wand and deftly froze the small elf that was approaching him.

"Harry!" Ron called out and came as close to Harry as he could without falling into the pit. "Harry, are you all right?"

"Mew me-mew-mewwww." Draco cat-speak for Of course he's not okay, wanker.

"Draco?! What are you doing... why are you talking like a cat?"

Hermione woke up. "Honey? Will you please help me up?"

"Oh, right," Ron said and helped her from her fallen position. "What did the stupid elf do to you?"

"A simple stunning charm. I should be able to walk on my own in a moment or two."

"And Harry, what did he do to you?"

"A blindness spell. This appears to not be wearing off so if one of you happens to recall the counter-spell, I would greatly appreciate it. Hermione?" he asked politely.

Ron ignored this plea. "And, him? What did they do to him?"

"Semi-silencing spell. All he seems capable of seems to be slight mewing noises--" With this, Draco gave an affirmative mew. "--and heavy breathing. It's not as strong as some silencing spells, but I suppose that Dobby didn't know some of the more powerful ones, which tend to involve complicated ingredients and long periods of time for preparation. He obviously needed something simple and quick that would stop us from making plans to get out."

Hermione opened her mouth to begin her own brand of authoritative lecture, but Harry just kept on talking, oblivious.

"Actually, it is very fortunate that you two came here. I was afraid that we would have to do something quite drastic for when Lucius would come and attempt to kill us. Although, I don't particularly understand your reasons for come to Los Angeles, or how you found us here in this -- well, wherever we are. Where are we, exactly?"

"We're actually not quite sure, to tell you the truth," said Hermione, sounding sheepish.

"Mew?"

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. "Hermione, do you know any spell that will relieve Draco of his ability to talk?"

"Don't you think that we should really get you out of your cages first, mate?" asked Ron.

"Oh, yeah, that'd be good. And then get us out of here... wherever here is. That'd also be good. And do something with Dobby."

After a surprisingly short time trying to get Draco and Harry out from the cages that hung over the pit -- there weren't very many charms blocking their escape, surprisingly enough -- the four of them regretfully threw a frozen Dobby in the pit and made their way out of the doorway.

Ron, Hermione, and Draco rushed out hurriedly, forgetting about the blind Harry behind him. After a moment, he fell over a rather large box in the corridor, falling face-first onto the hard pavement. His new glasses broke into pieces with a large crack. His nose was badly injured. He rose a stunned hand to his face.

The three of them turned around, shame-faced. "Uh, sorry about that," Ron said and rushed over to his friend. But he was too late, as Draco had already gotten there first.

"Mew?" Draco said softly into Harry's ear as he helped him to his feet.

"All right, I have no fucking clue what the FUCK is going on here," said Ron in a half-bewildered, half-angry tone. He looked down at Draco. "Why are you looking at him like that? Anybody care to explain to me?"

"Ron..." said Hermione, warningly. "I don't think that now is quite the time."

"Seriously Ron, you find the worst time to get a temper," said Harry, rubbing his nose with his hand. He traced the shards of glass from his specs on the ground with his hand, catching his left index finger on one of the pieces. A gash of red formed instantly, his blood spilling onto the concrete floor. Draco gently lifted Harry's hands off the floor and carefully raised him to his feet.

"Mew mew me-mew."

"I know I won't need them anymore but they were very nice specs."

"Mew?"

"A new pair? Oh, no, I couldn't. These must have cost you at least two hundred quid, and--"

"Meeeeeeew."

"Oh, fine, if you insist."

Ron was glaring at the two of them. "All right, Hermione, the second we get out of here we're going to find a spell to rid him of that stupid semi-silencing charm. I never thought that Draco could be twice as annoying without the gift of speech, but I see that I have been proven wrong." He turned to Harry. "And you! What in the world has happened to you? You're acting very... strange."

"Business matters," Harry mumbled, his blind eyes shut. Draco glared at him.

"Ron, I completely agree, but, honestly, let's get out of here, okay?" Hermione said into the side of his face. Instead of answering her, Ron turned his head to hers for a kiss. She happily complied.

Draco let out a disgusted mew and bolstered his grip around Harry's waist.

The four of them hobbled outside of the building. Hermione muttered a small spell and they were out of there--an advanced apparition spell that she had picked up at her wizarding university in Oxford.

They stood in a field somewhere in the wilderness of the Santa Monica Mountains. Mountains surrounded them on all sides, along with prickly bushes and wild oak trees. A stream was nearby, they could hear it clearly.

Hermione did more magic -- first fixing Harry's blindness, then Draco's voice, and did a temporary charm to fix Harry's eyesight. This shocked all of them as they were not used to seeing Harry without his glasses and not doing the squinty-mole look that he always did before he put them back on. It was as if he was a different person -- much more fragile: less hero, more human.

"I think," Harry begun slowly, looking around at all the confused faces, "that some explaining is in order." He looked up at Ron and Hermione, who looked at once confused as well as angry. "...By everyone, of course," he said, and looked at Draco, who, embarrassed, looked away.

No one spoke. No one wanted to begin. Yes, Ron and Hermione's instinct had worked--Harry certainly had been in trouble, but their actions did imply a sort of distrust and parental care that was not exactly the stuff of good, trusting friendships. Especially since he had told them he had come here on a work assignment, not for pleasure.

The silence was too much to bear. Harry sighed and continued. "Fine. Well, I suppose that I'll ask some questions. Ron, Hermione, glad to see you again," he said, placing the emphasis on see. He was rather glad to be restored of his sight, especially in such a useful way. He tried to place his questions in as tactful a way as possible. "Quite pleasant having you arrive at such an opportune time. But, I am rather curious, why did you come?"

Ron and Hermione looked down, then to one another. "I told you he wouldn't be pleased," Ron said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Harry," she began, using her best placating tone. "I was just worried, is all. I thought your behaviour rather strange and wanted to investigate what in the world was going on with you. You had been acting more strangely about this assignment than any other before and I thought that you might need some help that the misers over at the Ministry wouldn't provide and that you and your pride would never allow you to ask for."

"Personally, I thought you could handle yourself. I was looped into the whole thing," Ron said.

"Yes, that's true. And so I made him come. I used some rather advanced locating spells to find where you were and then some advanced apparition techniques--"

"--For which I could send you to the police, you know," Draco said, sneering. "Apparition is illegal here, Miss Goody Two Shoes."

Hermione was taken aback. "Apparition? Illegal? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Harry gave Draco with a Look. "Continue, Hermione."

"Well, I s'pose there really isn't much more to it. But it's really wonderful to see you safe and sound now, with your eyesight, of course" she said, and smiled.

Harry smiled back, but it wasn't his usual warm smile. "I don't want to sound at all ungrateful, as you potentially did save my life, as well as Draco's, but I also think that it was a bit foolhardy of you to come all the way here," he said, taking a breath. "You could have been injured, or worse, killed... As far as I saw, you didn't have any weapons on you at all, except for your wands. And, although I completely trust your magic skills, Dobby was equipped in harmful spells... For all we know, he was equipped with the killing curse," he said with a long, dramatic pause for effect. "You could have died."

"I know, I know, Harry..." Hermione said, looking down like a scolded child. "I only wanted to make sure that you were safe."

"I know, and I appreciate that, Hermione. So... thank you. Thank you for saving us. Just please think before you do it again. And next time, let me know that you're coming."

"We tried to call you, you know," Ron said, sounding defensive.

"Did you?" Harry said, trying his best to sound innocent.

"Uh, yeah," Ron said, obviously not knowing what else to add.

Harry cleared this throat and continued. "I suppose there's nothing more to say. You're here now, which is great. Draco's been showing me around the area. We have to go see Malibu, of course, best beach in the world as far as I can see, and then go to Santa Monica and visit Third Street. I'm sure you guys don't particularly mind doing the touristy stuff. There's always Disneyland... but there are some other wicked theme parks as well, such as Magic Mountain and Knott's Berry Farm... And if you're up for a more scholarly activity, there is the LaBrea tar pits and the Getty Museum, both of which I haven't been able to see as Draco's not really one for that sort of thing."

"Sounds brilliant," Hermione said and smiled.

"Okay then," Ron said. "Now that you know about what happened with us, why we're here, etc., I would like to know what in blooming hell is going on with you, Harry." He stared directly at Draco. "And as for him, I thought that he had disappeared off the face of the earth. Have you been mistakenly sent to protect him from his stupid father? Doesn't the Ministry of Magic understand that you two have had practically homicidal tendencies towards one another in the past?"

"I'm afraid that's classified information, Weasel," Draco said, his voice slipping back into his habitual adolescent drawl.

"Is that true, Harry?" Ron asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Harry bit his lip and looked down at the ground. He closed his eyes. "Yes, I'm afraid it is," he said.

"Oh, but I should inform you of some very pertinent information for your visit," Draco said smugly.

"What's that?" asked Ron suspiciously.

"Well, for starters, I am Very Famous and a millionaire," Draco continued, a poisonous grin creeping onto his face. "And I have legions of gorgeous, strong, strapping men devoted to my safety and well-being, so don't try anything funny. And..." he said, looking over at Harry who was looking very nervous. But before he could say anything, he was interrupted by Ron.

"Yeah, I was meaning to ask you about that," Ron said. "I saw your ugly mug all over the city with some other bloke's name tagged on underneath it."

"Stage name. If you're around any muggles, call him Drew," muttered Harry. Anxious to switch subjects, he asked where Ron and Hermione were staying. They mentioned some place in the Valley, which made Draco snigger.

"You think that's funny, do you?" asked Ron, his cheeks flushed. He knew that the hotel they were staying at was not very posh, but it was all the two of them could afford.

"Honestly, yes. I thought that they had abandoned that place long ago," Draco said, smiling. "I heard that even the sewer rats abandoned it for greener pastures."

"Stop it, you two. Draco, if where they're staying is such an a horrible place why don't you offer them your guest house?"

Draco's jaw fell open. "Absolutely not! I'm not having your two loser friends stay in my house!"

"I wouldn't stay there, anyway, not if you paid me," Ron said, glaring at Draco.

"Where are you staying, Harry?" asked Hermione innocently.

"Uh..." he looked over to Draco. "Actually, I'm staying there as well."

Ron hit his ear and shook his head as if he had water in it. "I'm sorry, but it sounded as if you just said that you're staying with Draco Malfoy. MALFOY, Harry. Slytherin. Evil. Bad. Spoiled rich kid who thinks about nobody but himself. For all we know he's actually in cahoots with his father and they're hell-bent on a plot to destroy the universe and take all the power in the world for themselves. Why on EARTH would you be staying with him?"

"I've missed you too, Weasel," Draco said, his voice smarmy and hard.

"Ron," Harry sighed. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Care to enlighten me?"

"Draco's life is in danger. His father wants to kill him so he can become immortal. I've been sent to try and lure him back to England by the Ministry. Although, now that Lucius seems to be in Los Angeles it seems like a better idea to just stay here instead."

"Pookie, you know that makes absolutely no sense," said Draco.

"Pookie?" Ron and Hermione said in unison.

"It's, er, my code name for this op," said Harry sheepishly. He turned towards Draco. "And, yes, it makes perfect sense. Why do you think that we wanted to get you back to England? To tour you around the Tower of London and take a couple of pictures with the Queen? No. We wanted to use you as bait, although, really, I'm not qualified to do this all by myself. Now that we are fairly certain that Lucius has come to the States, we can do the operation here. I just need to make a couple of quick phone calls to the Ministry and they can send in the squad."

"Not from this field, we can't," said Ron, looking around at their scenery.

"And I absolutely refuse," Draco said stiffly. "I'm not going to be bait. No way in hell."

"Draco..." Harry said, looking up at Draco with large, puppy dog eyes. "Come on, you would be saving the world... And, plus, you die pretty much automatically if we don't get your dad."

"Good point," Draco muttered.

"So are you going to help us?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Good. And you two?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione.

"Of course, Harry," said Hermione.

"Now that we're here, we might as well," said Ron. "Although I'm still fairly certain that you could've done this all by yourself."

The four of them trudged along in the field for a few minutes before Ron asked: "What kind of code name is 'Pookie,' anyway?"