When Worlds Collide

Chapter 10: Hogwarts on Defence

If Ginny had thought her brothers would feel properly chastised at having made such childish comments about Professor Snape in his hearing, she would be wrong. Despite the initial shock registered on their faces at seeing the Slytherin Professor in a doorway of their home, she could see the beginnings of amused grins on her brothers, as they looked sideways at each other.

"Professor Snape?" Ginny said, hardly daring to believe he was actually there.

Snape eyed the three down his nose, as if he were looking at sitting blobs of Bubotuber pus, before drawling, "If you are quite finished your assessments of whom you deem threats to the wizarding society, kindly come down to your..." he paused, as if trying to think of how to describe the particular room of their house, "living room-" (Ginny thought he'd said this rather distastefully) "-where we must discuss matters more...appropriate, to your situation."

He raised an eyebrow at the three Weasleys, and Ginny thought this was intended to be more patronising than questioning. He didn't wait for a response, but instead turned abruptly from the room and disappeared.

"Well, I must say," George stated, "that has to go down in the Weasley history - assessing an evil man's sex life in his hearing. Quite a fine piece of daring, wouldn't you say, Fred?"

Seeing Fred's enthusiastic nod, Ginny retorted, "That wasn't daring! You didn't even know he could hear!"

George stood, and loftily looking down his nose at his sister as if he were a wise old man said, "That is beside the point - we accomplished the task, we are unscathed, and we have another fine report for dorm mates back at school."

"We don't go to Hogwarts anymore, remember?" said Ginny darkly, as she slid off her bed and made for the door. "We'd better go downstairs to see what he wants."

Snape didn't look as though he'd just been the subject of humiliating discussion. When Ginny and her brothers arrived in the living room, the Professor had been standing stiffly by a window - despite urges from their hospitable mother for him to sit - and his face betrayed no anger or embarrassment. But he looked bitter and ill-tempered on a regular basis, so it was difficult for Ginny to tell if the snippet of conversation had affected him.

When Mrs Weasley saw her three children waiting, she quickly ushered them to sit down. "Now, please be polite to Professor Snape," she said quietly, as if trying to make sure he didn't hear her. "He comes on Dumbledore's instruction." She then left the room in a fluster, giving Snape a broad smile that was a little too comical to be genuine.

Professor Snape waited a little before speaking while looking he would rather be anywhere but here - which, considering how he usually looked, wasn't much different.

"Rest assured," he began, "I am no more delighted to be here than you are to have me." He waited to be sure this fact had been absorbed before continuing. "Your mother has seen fit to withdraw you from the school. I, personally, bear no regret of this, but nevertheless your education must be continued in some shape or form. Despite my arguments for the otherwise, Dumbledore has assigned me in the job of tutoring you." The three faces before him couldn't mask their expressions of incredulous horror. Snape only sniffed indignantly before continuing, "Dumbledore undoubtedly had his own secret reason for this, although let us hope that his decision is overruled by the new management, shall we?"

The Weasleys obviously had not yet heard of any likelihood of 'new management', as they swapped alarmed questioning looks with each other. Professor Snape appeared to take sadistic pleasure in delivering this news, as he elaborated, "As every Hogwarts student will know by Monday, if not before, Professor Dumbledore has been relinquished of his post."

"He's been fired?" Ginny asked in a squeak, panicked.

"The Ministry of Magic would prefer not to use such terminology," Snape said wryly. "It's not yet official who the new headmaster will be, but Dumbledore of course has his opinions and ideas. This new headmaster may be sensible enough to recommend you to another school, so I may not waste my valuable time teaching students who have no appreciation for my efforts, and who can't even make the effort to get to school themselves."

"That's not our fault!" George said heatedly, bringing a sardonic smile from the professor.

"There is currently no debating the arrangement," Snape continued as if he hadn't heard, "so I will be here on Monday evening to teach you an amount of the day's potion lesson, and assign homework and research passed onto me by your other teachers. Be assured that even though you no longer spend your days at Hogwarts, your workload will remain substantial."

None of the Weasley children looked pleased at this, and they remained seated, looking worriedly at each other as Snape crossed the room to their fireplace.

"'Til Monday, then," he said with faux sincerity, before disappearing in the green flame.

"Dumbledore's been given the boot?!" George's voice rose to reverberate around the room. "Again?"

"It was sorted out last time," said Ginny, as much to reassure herself as her brother. "He'll be back."

"Y'know," said Fred, "I reckon I know why they think they had to do it."

"Oh, really," said George sourly. "And why's that?"

"Well, think about it!" Fred retorted. "Four students were abducted straight out of what was supposed to be one of the safest places in existence! News like that doesn't stay quiet! The parents find out, and they panic - Mum being a prime example - so they withdraw their children from the school since there is no longer adequate protection there. I bet the Ministry thinks the only way they can persuade the parents to leave their kids at Hogwarts is by reassuring them that the students will be under somebody else's protection - somebody who they say will be more competent than Dumbledore in safety."

"They think they can just replace the best wizard in the country and expect the replacement to be more competent in an obviously already-dangerous situation?" George said incredulously. "I knew politics was up the pole without a flag but that is just stupid! And dangerous!"

"Unless it's not," Ginny said quietly, having again drawn her knees up to her chin.

The twins looked at each other, then at her. "Have you gone completely loopy?" Fred asked.

Ginny looked as though she was thinking quite seriously about something. "What if they're confident that no more students will come to harm under the authority of the new headmaster?"

"Well, then they're stupid and ignorant-"

"Or just in league," Ginny interrupted quietly.

"What?"

"I think the new headmaster is Lucius Malfoy," Ginny surmised. "I'm sure it is. Or at least, someone like him. The only way they can be confident You-Know-Who won't inflict chaos, even though they have inferior capabilities, is if they're on his side."

"The Ministry wouldn't put a Death Eater in charge of the school just to stave off attacks!" Fred exclaimed. "That would be doing a worse thing - putting everyone in You-Know-Who's hands!"

"You know the Ministry will deny anything they don't want to deal with," Ginny said. "If somebody - say, Lucius - says that with the school under his hand, no such surprising interruptions will again occur, the Ministry will allow him to be headmaster, and won't consider the implications. He's already got connections with them, and a very rich and powerful status - he'll fit the criteria perfectly for a Ministry-representative headmaster."

For a moment, neither of the boys said anything.

"Bloody hell," George finally said. "Lucius Malfoy - Headmaster of Hogwarts. I guess it doesn't matter that we can't play Quidditch for Gryffindor - Slytherin's a guaranteed win anyway. Just imagine how his evil rotten kid would take advantage of that... good thing he's not there then, I guess."

"Maybe," Fred said. "And maybe not. You never know how they'll use any little circumstance to their advantage."

"You think they'll use Draco Malfoy to take Harry down?"

"You bet I do - down six feet deep."

~<>~

"I hope she's not planning to stand there and watch that all night," Trina said, slightly impatient as she fidgeted in the front seat of Tony's car. Draco had finally co-operated enough to sit in the back with the Gryffindors, but just to play it safe, he sat by a window, and next to Hermione.

Harry looked past Trina's impatient face and out of the windscreen to see Tony still standing in front of her favourite fountain on Marine Parade. The sky was dark now, showing the effects of the fountain at its best. The round structure - which would appear simple enough by daylight - was now flowing with coloured light. The fountain material itself was a fluorescent green, with a golden coloured rim peeking out from the top, where water was spilling over the sides in bright green sheets. As for the water being projected sky-high, Harry couldn't think of how that effect was made - surely the New Zealand Magical Government didn't display magical things so openly. It must have been muggle-made. Not that Harry particularly cared. And judging by Tony's look, she didn't care either. A vertical stream of unnaturally blue water was shooting into the air, first in one tall jet, then a smaller one surrounded by a ring of little sprays, then dispersed evenly... The water would suddenly change colour as they watched, too - from blue...to purple...yellow...pink...orange...scarlet....

"C'mon!" Trina yelled to her friend. She'd pushed open her door and was now leaning half out of it to call to Tony.

"Just a few seconds more!" Tony called back. "I haven't seen the best bit! It should be soon-"

And then it happened. Even Ron, who could never have been said to be much interested in fountains, gave a small gasp as he watched. The scarlet water streamed the highest they had seen it reach, in a perfectly vertical liquid laser cutting across the darkened sky.

"Whoa!" Tony was saying. "Isn't that coolest fountain you ever saw?!"

Even Trina was transfixed for a while, but she soon returned her attention to the time, so once again called Tony to the car. Tony looked down at the shallow pool surrounding the fountain and squatted down at its edge. She scooped up a handful of water and watched it fall through her fingers, and scooped some of the liquid across her arm, where the cooling droplets ran down it and dripped off. Finally, Tony stood and approached the car.

As she sat down in front of the steering wheel and fastened her seatbelt, she said, "I think that fountain's one of the best things I'll miss."

"Really," Trina said, exasperated. "Anyone would think you were about to die and you'd never see it again!"

"Hey, that could happen!" Tony reasoned. "I could get robbed and murdered - my body grated into tiny pieces and fed to fishes and house pets - and I'll never see home again!"

"Now then," Trina said in a mock condescending tone, "we mustn't get our hopes up."

An amused snicker came from the back seat but the girls in the front couldn't tell whom it had come from.

"Anyway," Trina continued as Tony began to pull out of the carpark, "I'm positive that won't happen..." Tony relaxed a little, looking reassured. "...because I'm sure there's a clause somewhere in the Animal Welfare Act that forbids such poison and bad nutrition being anywhere near the animal's system."

For a moment Tony's jaw hung in suspended animation, but no speech came out. Finally she said, "Oh that was good - I couldn't come up with a good retort for that one. Or maybe I'm just getting slack... All the retorts I could come up with sounded too High School."

Trina smiled in self-satisfaction.

"Are we going to get anywhere in a while?" Draco said complaining, "Because a whole day has passed since we supposedly left and we're only half an hour from where we started from!"

Tony grumbled something that sounded like it included 'whining little arse...' but for the most part, it came out in an incoherent mumble.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Draco said, with false sincerity.

"I said," Tony looked at him in the rear-view mirror as she drove, "that you're right - so we're driving straight on up to Taupo tonight. Feel free to nap on the way. Or you may like to jump out the window - it makes no difference to me."

Draco sat back against his seat and muttered sideways out of his mouth, "And you worry that my attitude is of an evil person, Weasley."

Ron shot him a look that plainly said Draco was an evil person, but he didn't open his mouth and start an argument.

"Where's Taupo?" Hermione asked, looking out at the already-dark sky.

"About three hours from here," Tony said. "We - meaning, Trina and I - have no particular sight-seeing place to stop at between here and there, so we'll go straight on up there tonight."

"Then what?" Draco said. "We're not expected to sleep in the car all the time, surely."

Tony opened her mouth to respond, but Trina intercepted. After all, there was only so much of Tony's sarcastic comments that a person could take before they just wanted to yell at her. This thought - which reminded Trina of Draco himself - made her laugh quietly to herself. "We'll stay at a motel or something, overnight," Trina informed the Slytherin. "Or a backpackers - someplace cheap."

Draco looked like he would have preferred Trina to leave out this last fact. "What about dinner?"

Trina would have commented on the whinge-factor of this question, but she suspected that if Draco hadn't asked it, Ron would have. This thought was confirmed by the redhead looking at her expectantly.

"We'll grab takeaways," Tony answered for her. "I know it's getting late already, but keep your belly under control while we put a bit of distance behind us. I'm sure you'll live."

"Which is more than I could say for you if I had my wand," Draco muttered, drawing an accusing see-I-was-right look from Ron.

But to Ron's surprise, Tony lightened considerably as she burst out laughing. "That's it," she encouraged with a smile. "Feel the hippie love in here...isn't it great?"

Trina joined in the laughing; leaving the Gryffindors looking confused, unsure whether they should be laughing too, and Draco was just looking deflated.

The bright lights of Napier city dwindled to nothing as the car left to wade through the surrounding darkness. Tony flicked the headlights onto high beam to illuminate the road ahead and the car fell into silence as the laughter subsided.

"As much as I hate to interrupt," Tony finally said, "I think it is my duty to inform you that unless a suitable topic of conversation is found, the radio goes on."

"What should we talk about then?" Ron asked, with the air of someone who had just been given a class assignment.

"Well," Tony enlightened him, "we could discuss what I had for breakfast - Manuka Honey on toast. That honey is really expensive from Comvita at retail price, but seeing as my uncle owns most of the company he gets it really-"

"Not that we all want to hear about your breakfast," Trina informed her.

"I have to say," Tony said, "it took longer for you to interrupt than I thought it would."

Silence again ruled, but this time Tony didn't try to encourage conversation. At one point she had reached for the radio, but spotting the glance from Trina that plainly said, 'Don't you dare', she snatched her hand back as though it had been bitten and contented herself with listening to the hum of the engine.

She suspected Trina was utilising the time to think about...well, any one of the confusing issues arisen in the past week. Tony had been trying to avoid thinking about it too much. After all, what would it accomplish, aside from birthing blaring stress and bring on a panic attack? The roll of the tyres on the road and the guttural hum of the engine had a strangely hypnotic effect, which was soon interrupted by soft dozing snores from Ron.

Tony glanced into the rear view mirror to make out who else was asleep. Draco was still awake and staring out of the window, with his elbow propped up on the armrest, but he looked to be too lethargic to have any response to Ron. Next to him, Hermione was fidgeting under Ron's slumped weight, but the attempt was half-hearted as she too was succumbing to the calming blanket of sleep. As for Harry, as far as Tony could see, he was doing the tragic thing that all young heroes of the world did - gazing sombrely out of the window as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and only he could save them all from eternal...something bad.

Tony smirked amusedly to herself at this as she turned her eyes back to the road. What on earth does he find to think about, she wondered.

Quite a lot, it seemed. The trees whizzing past the window had merged into a subconscious blur in Harry's mind. A particular matter continued to press him - the matter of his scar. Why hadn't he been plagued by bouts of pain pertaining to Voldemort's frustration? Surely the dark wizard would know that the students were out of his reach due to a protection charm that must have been cast? Despite that fact that pain still remained absent, Harry absent-mindedly reached up to his forehead to trace the narrow lightning shape of a scar that he'd had most of his life. If Voldemort wasn't constantly angry despite them being protected...he must have a plan, Harry realised. And a good one - it must be in action right now. Had this fact occurred to any of the others? Perhaps, to one of them, this wasn't a bad thing...

Harry slowly turned to see Draco Malfoy still looking absently outside. As if sensing Harry's gaze on him, Draco turned to face him in one slow and fluid motion, as if to move any faster took too much effort. Harry thought the movement looked rather ominous. Harry looked directly into his school-nemesis's eyes, refusing to look away, as if to attain if Draco was having any affiliation to Voldemort, communicated through the shadowed grey eyes. Draco only held his gaze for a moment before fluidly turning back to the window to look outward blankly, as if the exchange hadn't occurred.

Harry turned back with a small frustrated sigh. Although he hadn't actually expected to find any answers in Draco's gaze, of course, he had still hoped for a clue as to where Draco stood on the whole matter. Ron's right, he thought. After all, Tony and Trina don't know him...not really... But what if their objective stand makes them see things more clearly... what if they're right... Maybe it's- or maybe... He started to find it hard to think. Maybe...

"Wake up, to all those unconscious!" came the call that brought Harry sharply around, a couple of hours later.

"Wha-?" came a bleary voice to Harry's right, which he identified to be Ron's.

As bodies slowly shifted into consciousness, they caught a hot delicious smell wafting around the car interior. Harry sat up from his slouch to see that the car had come to a standstill on the side of an unfamiliar street, and the driver's door stood open. Tony's silhouette could be seen leaning in through the door clutching a pack of some sort in her hands, and as she reached up an arm to switch on the car's inside lights, the 'pack' was seen to be newspaper wrapped around something hot.

"Oh, yum," Trina said, as Tony put the package down on the glovebox by her seat, and pulled the door shut behind her. "We're eating this in the car?"

"Yeah, I figured we'd dine with the kiwi finesse," Tony said with a smile. "Plus, I thought it was getting a tad chilly outside. And also I like to be able to see what I'm eating!"

The English youths were still blearily getting used to the light. Although Draco had retained some semblance of consciousness over the journey of several hours, he certainly wasn't used to the copious amounts of light around them all. They all watched as Tony folded back the edges of the newspaper - pausing at one stage to read a Garfield cartoon imprinted on the underside - to expose an inner layer of plain white paper. She stopped again to glance at a newspaper article with an interest that Harry suspected was less than genuine.

"Oh, hurry up!" Trina said, but before Tony had a chance to oblige, Trina was unwrapping the white paper herself.

The steaming pile of fat chips sat in all their golden glory, and Tony squirted a sachet of tomato sauce next to them.

"Well, that'll last you half a chip," Trina said mockingly. It was Wonder of the World among people who knew Tony, just how much tomato sauce she consumed with...well, a lot more things that for which it was intended, Trina was sure.

"I know," Tony replied, refusing to rise to the bait. "That's why I got these." She unzipped and emptied a large pocket of her pants and a decent number of sauce sachets - at least 10 - spilled all over the floor, one bouncing off the accelerator.

"Tony!" Trina said, but with an I-should-have-known expression. "Whoa! So, you're going to have a little chips with your sauce, then?"

"Your hilarity astounds," said Tony sarcastically as she swiped a chip through the dollop of tomato sauce, creating a red streak on the paper. She popped the chip in her mouth as she said, "There's drink for anyone who doesn't scuba dive."

"Scuba dive?" repeated Hermione.

"Spit," Trina said. "Y'know, if someone backwashes after drinking you get their scuba divers floating around the bottle. Eww." She screwed up her face at the image she'd just created. Judging by the expressions of those in the back seat, they didn't sound partial to the idea either.

"Or you can go in there and buy your own," Tony said as she took a drink from the large Coca-Cola bottle, then lowering it appropriately so as not to 'scuba dive'. "I'm not made of cash - it was cheaper to buy this one big bottle than to get a small one each."

"So," surmised Draco, "you'd rather go for the unhygienic option for the sake of saving money, but at the cost of killing me with Meningitis since we don't have a Medi-witch on hand."

Tony pursed her lips and looked to the ceiling, as if thinking very hard, before brightly replying, "Yup, you got it."

Draco must have been getting used to Tony's characteristic sarcastic statements - which were unnervingly like his own - so he ignored her and instead reached forward for a chip.

Ron already had his cheeks bulging with chips and sauce. "Where are we going after this?" he managed to get out.

"Well," Tony said as she scooped up as much tomato sauce as she could with the overladen chip, "I was talking to Ben about that-"

"Ben?" Trina raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"The cute guy in the Fish 'n' Chip store," Tony supplied.

"Ooh, where?" Trina said, swivelling in her seat to see into the shop window next to the car.

"Oh, it looks like he's gone behind that partition there..." Tony was saying, and Trina's face fell. "Oh...wait- yeah, there - see? That's Ben."

None of the others could see Trina's face, as it was now hard against the window with her hands placed either side of it, but they heard her appreciation in her voice. "I should have bought the chips!"

"Yeah, I wish you had, too," said Tony, swallowing a couple of chips. "Because Lord knows how I love to be deprived of views like that. Right. Whatever..."

"Yeah, I know," Trina played along. "You should have called me. I would have done it."

"So anyway," Hermione interrupted. "You were saying? About Ben?"

Tony looked confused for a moment. "Well, that he looks really-"

"No, about what you were talking about with him! Where we are staying!"

"Oh, right," Tony said, and the others could tell from her face that she found this a much less interesting topic of conversation. "He says there's a Backpackers just around the corner and up the road a bit - we can shack up there for the night." She gathered up a few stray bits of crispy batter and munched on them, before reaching for the Coke bottle again. "I can't wait to see what Monsieur Malfoy thinks of it."

Draco looked sceptical now. "Why...?"

"Well, Backpacker hostels are cheap for a reason..."

"You realise, don't you," Draco said conversationally, "that you're gonna feel a bit more than a tickle when I get my wand back."

Following these words, there was a loud splutter from Tony, followed by hysteric coughing, while she tried to wipe off spilt Coca-Cola from her chin. She and Trina were swapping looks with each other, which the others were sure held some hidden meaning, as Trina was smiling at her condescendingly.

"What did I say?" Draco asked, confused.

"Nothing," Tony said, recovering herself. "Nothing at all."

Trina obligingly turned to him and said, "It's just that she has this thing-"

Tony gave another couple of loud coughs as if to clear her throat, but the cough sounded like a cleverly disguised, "Bon-Bon".

"-uh, thing where she doesn't pay attention to what people are saying and thinks about other stuff. Stuff that makes her laugh sometimes."

Draco raised an eyebrow at the poor cover-up.

"Seriously, I do," Tony said to him, looking at him in the rear view mirror. "It drives Trina up the wall."

Ron had just gathered up the last of the chips, so Trina rolled up the paper and scrunched it into a tightly packed ball. "I'll just put this in that rubbish bin over there," she said, motioning to a point out the windscreen.

Her door opened and closed, and the car was silent in her wake.

"What was so funny?" Draco pressed, as he flicked his head to get a white wave of hair out of his face - a gesture that was becoming something of a habit.

Tony stared resolutely ahead. "Nothing. I was laughing at nothing."

Draco must have known he'd get no more out of her, so he sat back against the back of the seat.

When Trina got back into the car, she looked around in surprise at the silence before a look of dawning comprehension came over her, and she giggled, but knew better than to start the topic up again. "So let's go to this Backpacker's place then. Cheap is good."

'Good' wasn't the word Harry would have used to describe the place, when they got there. He saw Tony thoroughly enjoying the look of utter disdain on Draco's face, but if he hadn't been so distracted with the pleasant thought that Malfoy was unhappy, he probably would have been of the same mind. The wallpaper was yellowed and peeling in places, old overstuffed sofas spotted about the lobby looked in need of repair, and cigarette smoke lazily drifted into the air from two guys sprawled across a couple of the sofas under a wall of various travel and sight-seeing brochures.

"You've got to be kidding," Draco said as he dropped his bags with a thud, and this time he received no condescending looks from the Gryffindor three - probably because they were thinking the same thing.

"You do realise," said Tony in a voice that plainly said he obviously didn't realise, "that our budget, which was intended to work for two people, now has to cover six?"

"Fine, don't mind me," said Draco flippantly, as he wrinkled his nose at his surroundings. (An action that Tony found utterly endearing, although she'd never say it.)

"Never do," she said cheerily and turned towards the counter.

"Not that you could expect much better," Trina said to them. "After all, these things aren't designed for long stays - just for travellers. And they can't afford to be picky. Anyway, this isn't bad for twenty bucks a head. That's in New Zealand dollars of course - who knows what that would be in your weird economic system."

They watched Tony chatting to the rugged-looking man behind the counter before she turned back to them, pocketing a receipt.

"Right," she said, "We're on the second floor - two three-man rooms next to each other."

Trina headed toward the lift, laden with bags, followed by all the others except Tony, who was looking uneasy.

"I'll meet you up there," Tony said decidedly as she headed toward the stairs and started striding up them, taking two steps at a time, her bag bouncing as she went.

"Why doesn't she just take the lift?" asked Harry. "It would be easier for her to carry a bag that way."

"She hates them," explained Trina. "Not the actual moving thing, but the starting and stopping. Her stomach gets left behind."

The button labelled '2' lit up as the lift reached that level, and as the doors slid open they could see Tony approaching them at a jog.

"If I hadn't been carrying this bag," she said, slightly out of breath, "I would have beaten you for sure!"

"Yeah, ok," said Trina, and shifted one of the bags slung on her shoulders to get more comfortable. "Take us to the rooms already."

"Oh," Tony said, as if this was a new concept that hadn't occurred to her, "Right, they'll be this way."

She headed off down the corridor, her companions in tow. They stopped outside two doors numbered 27 and 28.

"It makes sense that we share a room with Hermione," said Tony to Trina. "Since there are three girls. The two boys will have to share with the snake."

Ron looked less than thrilled at this concept, and Draco looked about to retort to the putdown but Tony gave a quick laugh and a wink to him to let him know she was kidding. A moment after she'd done this, she realised it hadn't been a good idea - Trina had her eyebrows raised in silent questioning, and Tony shrugged to her and rolled her eyes as she waved them all into the first room. Again the Gryffindors and Draco had the distinct feeling they were missing something.

"Hermione, just dump your stuff anywhere - there's no parents or prefects here." Hermione had been glancing about the room for a place to deposit her things, but at this statement from Tony she put them neatly just inside the door.

"Here's the key to the room next door," Tony continued, holding a key with a green tag out to Harry, "go get all your stuff sorted." It seemed to Harry that Tony now seemed a bit lethargic and apathetic. He supposed it was all the driving - she must just be tired. He'd already established that those sorts of things didn't come gradually with Tony - she changed mood at minimum notice, and could go from being bouncy and cheerful to lazy and apathetic in the space of one minute.

"I'll go with them," Hermione was saying, and she headed out with Draco and Ron. The last thing Harry saw before he followed them were Tony and Trina looking at each other intently, the tension almost palpable. It looked like they were going to have another 'discussion' that ended with raised voices - Harry was intensely glad that all six people collectively weren't sharing a room.

When the door closed behind him with a soft click, Harry saw the room next door was a reflection of the room they'd just been in. He saw two bunks up against the far wall, and another bed on the opposite side. Underneath a window in between sat a fat desk, with drawers that didn't quite shut due to moisture swelling the wood inside.

"Not the best place I've stayed in, that's for sure," said Ron, and Harry noted that Draco didn't make any comment about Ron Weasley's low standard of living resulting from their lack of wealth. Surprisingly, he hadn't said anything, but just crossed to the stand-alone bed and sat, gazing around with disdain.

"It's only for one night," Hermione said. "Besides, they didn't have to do this for us anyway. We're really greatly indebted-"

"Yeah," said Harry, but in an almost sarcastic tone, so she couldn't tell whether or not he actually agreed. "I love how they're moving along at their own sweet pace, while people back home will be worried sick, or think we're dead! It's great how they're prioritising the important things in life - like watching water fountains and movies...and now they're about to have another domestic!"

"Harry..." consoled Hermione, but couldn't think of just what to say to justify the two other girls against what Harry had just said.

"Domestic?" Ron was looking at him quizzically.

"They looked they were going to have a go at each other."

"Why?"

"Who knows?" said Harry, wearily dropping onto the bottom bunk. "Even though they're obviously best friends, I don't think constantly being around each other is good for them."

"Well anyway," Hermione said, "Taupo is about halfway to Auckland - they said that at some stage during the trip - so we're not doing too badly. And once we're in Auckland, we'll take a plane to England."

The boys seemed a little less sombre at this reminder. Draco even seemed to have forgotten he hated the Gryffindors as he said, "Well that's a thought to keep me sane."

"You and me both," said Ron, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth he looked horrified that he had uttered them.

"There's obviously a Concealment Charm over us if no one has come to find us," surmised Harry. "So either we're on our own or..."

"Or what, Harry?" asked Hermione, beginning to look worried.

Harry looked at Draco, aware that he'd never discussed the matter of his scar in his hearing, but deciding it not to make much difference as the whole school knew something was up with the lightning-shaped brand, he continued, "My scar hasn't hurt for ages - why would Voldemort-" Draco subtly raised a shapely eyebrow at Harry's blatant use of the name, "-not be angry when he can't find us because of a charm? Unless..."

"...he's already got a plan to kill us all and use our insides for tinsel!" finished Ron.

"That's not quite how I was going to put it."

"Maybe your scar's just not sensing his moods anymore, Harry," suggested Hermione. "I mean, maybe there's a spell to block that as well."

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I don't feel cut off from him... I just think he's still biding his time for something."

"That can't be good," said Ron. As if looking for an explanation, he glanced over to Draco, who was passing the time by blowing wisps of white hair from his face while idly listening to the discussion.

At the pause in the voices, he looked at them, and seeing unsure inquisitive faces looking back at him, he sparked heatedly, "What're you all looking at me for?"

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you?" said Ron. "I mean, if you- ow!"

Hermione had given him a sharp poke in the ribs with her elbow, and she muttered something about 'the talk about stuff'.

Ron didn't finish what he was saying, but glowered at Draco as he rubbed his sore ribs.

Draco stood from the bed. "Listen Weasley," he said, and his tone was impatient, "in case it's been beyond the limited scope of your mind to notice, I'm in the same predicament as you! Alright? Do you see owls coming through the windows with messages for me from You-Know-Who, telling me all his plans? Do you?!"

"Stop it, please, all of you," said Hermione, as she saw Ron about to retaliate. "This isn't helping anyone."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked, sarcastically. "Weasel seems to be getting a good vent out of it! Don't bottle it all up inside, Weasley, the tension could cause lasting physical damage."

Of course, this only served to incense Ron further.

"Why, you-!"

"Stop it!"

The sheer simmering fury under these words shocked the two arguing boys into silence. Even Hermione looked surprised, and they turned to face the angry speaker.

Harry was standing again now, and looked as irate as they had seen him so far since their placement in New Zealand, and they were further shocked to see him looking as angrily at his friend as he was at Draco. Ron looked incredulous and hurt at this.

"Harry," he began, "he-"

"I mean it, Ron," Harry said warningly, and Ron shut his mouth - although it was clear he thought Harry was being unreasonable. "Don't you think," Harry continued, "that Voldemort would have thought of this?"

All he received were confused looks.

"This," he repeated, as though saying it again would make it all understandable. "He must know Malfoy is with us, and he knows what connections Malfoy has and how we'd associate them with him. He could be counting on us having a serious sparring, and it could drive us apart, making us more vulnerable to whatever he has planned!"

"By 'us'," Draco said plainly, "you mean you, don't you?"

Harry looked at him in speechlessness. "What?"

"The only person You-Know-Who is interested in is you." His face took on a rather sour countenance as he added, "It's always been you."

"I didn't realise you were so envious," said Harry with something frighteningly like a sneer. "You're welcome to the fame - taking Polyjuice on the hour would do the trick nicely."

Draco mumbled something incoherent as he flicked his head to move a white wave aside - Harry daren't believe he'd actually heard 'sorry' come out of Draco's mouth, but he wasn't about to ask for affirmation of the fact. Even if the blonde had said sorry, it would have undoubtedly been sarcastic, he figured.

"How long do you think it will take us to get to Auckland?" Draco said to no one in particular, and in a tone as if nothing had just happened.

"Tony wouldn't make us wait another week - would she?" Hermione looked uncertain.

Draco shrugged. "What Tony wants, Tony gets, I think." Despite the fact these words were obviously intended to be impatient, there was a slight air of admiration or respect to his voice.

Harry fell again onto his bunk. "Unless Trina says otherwise. Despite Tony being the Rule Declarer, in the end, it's Trina who calls the shots. I mean, the way I've seen it, Tony only does things if Trina doesn't mind."

Ron, who was obviously still sore over Harry's censure of him, merely noisily climbed the ladder to the top bunk, and flopped himself loudly onto the flimsy blankets.

"Ok," Draco said, musing. "So...all we have to do is convince Trina we need a hurry-up?"

"Maybe," Harry said. "But we'll leave it for a bit, eh? I mean, this is technically our first day-" His eyes fell onto a cheap digital clock that stated the time to be almost 1am, "-ok, our second, and we're already halfway to Auckland, apparently. Let it sit for a bit."

"Should we ask them what time they plan to leave, tomorrow?" Draco queried, as he casually leaned back against the wall, pulling one foot up onto his mattress.

"I suppose so," Hermione said as she headed toward their door, reaching out a hand to open it. "I mean, it can't hurt."

As the door opened, remnants of conversation from the other room trickled though to them. Hermione stood back from the door a little, as if she were guilty about hearing them. Harry heard his name mentioned, and intrigued, he stood from his bunk and crossed the room to peer out the door.

The girls' door had been pushed so it was mostly shut, but the chink of space remaining was sufficient for their conversation to travel to others, now that the boys had their door open to unwittingly receive it. They heard small snippets of the heated exchange next door.

"...dragging them along..."

"...but they don't..."

"...how do we know you're not just holding back..."

"...why would..."

Harry looked uneasily at his fellow visitors and raised his eyebrows in silent speculation. All he received were unknowing shrugs, and they leaned slightly out into the hallway to hear more clearly.

"...yeah, well, you're not in a hurry to let him go though, are you?!" Harry identified that voice as Trina's. "Planning to take as long as possible?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Harry heard Tony retort. "You said it yourself - he's-"

"You don't care what I think about it! Let it go! Get over it!"

"There's nothing to-"

"If you won't listen to me, then listen to reason - he doesn't like you!"

Harry realised the conversation pertained to something he probably shouldn't be listening to - it sounded like they were feuding over some personal history. He slowly began to back into his room again. But just before he closed the door he caught some words that made him freeze the action.

"...him, a Slytherin no less..."

Now Draco looked particularly interested, as the conversation almost certainly concerned him, and he left his seat on the bed to come up behind Harry, straining to hear the conversation.

"...not just me!"

"...what's that supposed to..."

Draco leaned past Harry to push the door open a little wider.

"...you want yours to go no more than I want mine to..." the eavesdroppers strained forward a little to hear. "...you and your precious Bon-Bon...!"

Harry turned his head to see Draco looking adequately confused. If Harry recalled correctly, the Malfoys were of a French heritage - somewhere way back down the line - and it wouldn't have shocked him to know that Draco was fluent in their language. It seemed just the sort of 'refined' thing their family would hold important. But judging from his expression, the term 'bon-bon' seemed inappropriately placed in the conversation. Meanwhile, the voices in the girls' room were becoming angry.

"...just like Draco - no wonder you like him..."

"...I'm not..."

"...dare you to tell them...go on...tell them..."

Draco was sufficiently taken aback so as to stand back a little, where he appeared to be replaying the words in his head in order to come to some understanding. Although he looked to be in shocked surprise, a grin ticked at the edge of his mouth at the flattery.

"Oh, yeah, I bet you love that, don't you, Malfoy?" Ron said acidly from the top bunk.

"Well, I don't see you getting-" Draco stopped suddenly, as if a thought had just occurred to him. His eyes diverged as he gazed ahead in remembrance, before snapping his focus back to Ron. Comprehension crossed his eyes in a dawning light, and the Gryffindors were shocked to see Malfoy do the un-Slytherin thing of clapping his hands over his mouth and dissolving in...giggles?!

"What?" Harry was asking, but Draco appeared to be having too much trouble keeping his laughter quiet. As if suddenly inspired by an idea, he headed for their door and wrenched it fully open, before hurrying out into the hall toward the girls' door. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed him - the voices growing louder as they approached.

"But if they know that-"

"So? It's the truth isn't it?! Go on-" Draco had pushed open their door before Trina could halt the rest of her sentence. "-tell them that it's your fault they're here!"