Disclaimer: Yadda yadda, not mine.

Four

Saturday was cold; the sun was nowhere to be seen, and the sky was coated with gray. Harry took a deep breath, relishing the weather. He'd hated blue skies ever since those summers when he was younger, forced outside under an unforgiving sun and that awful blue overhead. He wished he was flying by himself instead of having to play referee, coach and den-mother for tryouts.

Harry had been surprised to see nearly all of Gryffindor waiting for him as he walked onto the pitch an hour ago. With that many, he'd had to divide everyone into groups of ten, thankfully seeding out the ones who couldn't even fly, a giggly bunch of girls falling all over the place, and – very frustrating to Harry – a group comprised of Hufflepuffs.

It only took two hours of torturous headaches to find himself three chasers: Katie Bell, Demelza Robins, and Ginny Weasley. The two Beaters, Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coot, though not as outstanding as Fred and George, were admittedly really good.

The last member of the team came down to a choice between Ron, Seamus, and a Seventh-Year named Cormac McLaggen. Harry honestly hoped McLaggen was awful, or at least worse than the other two; McLaggen had already tried to take over the team and he hadn't even flown for the position yet.

Luckily, McLaggen could only fly, it seemed, due to his inflated ego, and he couldn't save a goal to save his life. Seamus was really good, to Harry's dismay. He'd saved four out of five goals. And to win the spot, Ron would need to save all of them.

Harry could hardly stand to watch, but he was the captain. Certainly he should show slightly more grit.

Ron had saved four of five, and Ginny was rapidly coming up on the goal…

Harry felt slightly more human after a bath and some food from the kitchens. Now all he wanted was to make the most of the weather and fly without anyone else. Well, maybe one person else.

Heading down the stairs, Draco materialized from nowhere. Harry stopped. He hadn't tried to make sense of the truce the two seemed to be on, and didn't have the emotional energy to deal with it yet.

Draco inclined his head in a general direction.

"The Pitch?"

Harry nodded, his heart having become a rubber ball to bounce up in his throat, and down to the pit of his stomach, and to the walls…

Draco had been leaning against a wall, but propelled himself forward to fall in step with Harry.

Harry felt he should say something, but was scared it would be something stupid beyond the telling of it.

Draco, however, was comfortable with the silence. There had been moments during the last few days where Draco had fought back insults, because after five years it was second-nature to have a go at Dumbledore's Golden Boy. Draco didn't much feel like screwing things over this early in the game. He needed to be on excellent terms with Harry by the time the seventh of November rolled around, or the plan wouldn't work as well.

Nearly outside, a large gasp sounded from a few meters away. Draco snickered. He'd seen Potter-worshippers before. The drooling always gave them away.

"Look, Potter," Draco gestured. "You've got a fan."

A Hufflepuff girl who looked to be in her fourth year approached Harry and did the "I'm-not-worthy", squeezing her books to her chest tightly, giggling in an attempt to be flirtatious.

"Hi. I'm Ella. You're Harry, right? Hi-ii…" she sighed.

Harry was taken aback, literally. Ella was backing him into Draco, who was beside himself in amusement. Draco kept an ear out for that voice that told him "hands to yourself," so he wasn't tempted to touch Harry inappropriately. Or at all.

"There's a trip to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Want to go with me?" She ever-so-subtly batted her eyelashes.

Harry racked his brain for an excuse, any excuse. The only thing he could think of was:

"I'm already with someone. We're exclusive."

Draco could hardly contain himself: Harry sounded so panicked, and his lie was so obvious. Draco was almost leaning into Harry, biting down on his fist to control his laughter.

"No you're not," Ella frowned. "I would've heard about it. I have friends in Gryffindor who tell me things," she said self-importantly.

What, friends you order to spy on me? Harry thought, panicky. He hadn't known this girl for two minutes, and he already wanted a restraining order on her. Draco was still fending off an attack, barely able to contain himself.

"Did it just happen this morning?" she asked in disappointment.

"Oh, um – er – well, I –" Harry couldn't think fast enough to come up with a reasonable answer.

"So then you are available?!" She hopped in place, smiling so widely most all her teeth could be seen.

This is the best thing I've heard in months! Draco was gone, now sitting on the floor, laughing himself to tears.

The girl smiled pointing at Draco.

"Is he okay?"

The straw that broke the camel's back, Draco titled over sideways, no longer caring if he was heard.

Harry glared daggers at the Slytherin, who – gasping for air – took no notice.

Harry needed more time to think. This was too much duress.

"Er, Ella–" Harry cleared his throat. Ella's eyes widened, a bright look of hope spread across her features.

"The, er, truth is… I – I promised Draco we'd spend some quality time together!"

Ella tilted her head to the side, as though she didn't understand. She waved a finger back and forth between the two of them, frowning.

"I thought you guys were, like, rivals or something?"

Harry shook his head vigorously. "Nope! That's just for, ah, appearance's sake! We really haven't had any time to just hang out."

"Ohhhh," she nodded in understanding, her eyes closing as though a revelation was beaming itself into her head. She opened her eyes, smiling. "Then I guess I'll just see you around!" she said perkily. She waved goodbye before skipping away.

Harry looked at Draco on the floor, arms across his stomach, face red and tear-streaked.

"Some help you are," he told Draco.

Gathering a breath, Draco sat up. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. But opening them again, he saw Harry's consternated expression. Draco barked once more and began again.

Harry walked away and towards the door, not finding it funny at all. At the broom shed, Draco caught up with him. Draco was still grinning, and Harry's frown distorted into something else. Smiling suited Draco very nicely, in Harry's opinion.

Harry grabbed both their brooms, handing Draco the Nimbus 2001.

"Thanks," Draco said cheerfully. Harry's "no problem" died before it even reached his vocal chords.

Walking into the middle of the pitch, Harry tried to imagine being someone else and watching the two of them walk onto the Pitch together. It was almost like seeing Hermione sidle up to Snape. Harry shuddered, glad that breakfast had been hours ago. Draco raised an eyebrow. Harry shrugged.

Draco took out a Snitch from his pocket. He could see Harry wanted to ask, so he said, "Got it from Hooch's office."

"You knicked it?" Draco shrugged.

"Slytherin."

Draco let the Snitch loose.

"Hey, Potter," he said as they mounted their brooms. Harry tried to instruct himself to breath.

"Yeah?"

Draco leaned in close. He batted his eyelashes.

"Hi-ii…" He took off. Grinning, Harry kicked up as well.

"That was brilliant, Harry! Did you see the look on their faces?! Five out of five, beat his arse! Harry?"

Harry was looking about nervously. He was extremely glad for Ron's height just now – maybe she wouldn't see him. Was she even here?

"Something wrong?"

"Huh? No, no. Honestly. Keep talking. Mind if we duck into the Three Broomsticks?"

Ron shrugged, just happy to relay the story of his victory again.

Harry really hoped Ella wouldn't be around. Inside, Harry checked the clock. It was 10:28, and Draco had told Harry he'd be at Oberlohr's Bookstore around 10:45. The thought had passed through Harry's mind that everything had been leading up to a trap that would be put in motion today. Harry had that small seed of maybe-just-maybe growing within him though. He didn't mean to water it, but there it was. Now was really the time to say something to his friends, but he'd need longer than seventeen minutes to explain everything. It was more a thirty-minute kind of explanation.

Even if he had days to talk to Ron, the redhead wouldn't condone any of Harry's actions. Even if he somehow got past the whole my-best-friend-is-gay-and-I-didn't-know-about-it thing, Ron would raise hell for Harry fancying Draco.

But what about Hermione? Harry told the waitress that he wasn't hungry, but thank you anyway. Hermione was a smart girl – she would be able to see both sides of the spectrum, but follow more with the logistics than the emotional aspects. And what if he asked her to come with him to the bookstore? Ron wouldn't set foot in there unless by some chance the Chudley Cannons were signing inside.

"Hello, all," Hermione said brightly as she came in, twisting the ends of her scarf. She looked at Harry.

"Mind making a trip with me to the bookstore around the corner? No offense, Ron," she turned to say to him. He shrugged, raising his arms to stretch.

"I'll head over to the Quidditch store. Honeydukes later, then?"

Hermione nodded, and both watched as he walked out. Hermione pointed a thumb over her shoulder at the door.

"Mind if we get going now? C'mon." Harry caught the clock again. 10:32.

Oberlohr's Bookstore wasn't a great distance from the Three Broomsticks. Hermione sighed.

"Harry," she began quietly. "We've been friends for a long time now. I know when something's bothering you, and I certainly know when you're upset. Even though Ron pretends that everything's okay, I won't."

Harry's throat clogged with fear. Hermione pulled him over to sit in the gazebo away from the main path. Harry was still anxious to meet Draco, and still undecided if it was a trap or a showing of good faith.

"It's fine, Harry. We've got eleven minutes, and it only takes five to get there."

Harry stared at her, unable to summon something to say.

"I overheard you talking to Malfoy yesterday after you came in."

Harry looked away, feeling himself pale. Hermione put her gloved hand over Harry's bare one.

"It's okay Harry. I honestly don't care if you fancy boys. I just wish you'd come to me, instead of it having to be the other way around."

Harry lifted his head to look her in the eyes. He could only find warmth and understanding.

Harry had to think about how to phrase what he wanted to say. Hermione saw, and kept silent.

"I wanted to say something, but then I thought that I was imagining it, and that it was some sort of, I dunno, phase. But when I figured out it went further than that, I didn't know how to…"

"Say it?" she offered gently.

"Yeah. Not to mention Ron."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron is not going to be so ignorant as to drive his best friend away for being gay, Harry. You two have been through too much for something as trivial as this to tear you apart."

"Trivial? Hermione," he stared at her, "I–" He glanced around to make certain no one was looking. "I've got the hots for Draco Malfoy, I don't think he'll be able to overlook that."

"Well, who doesn't think he's attractive? Something's been going on besides that, hasn't it, though?"

Harry leaned his back as far over the rail as it would go, and pulled front again.

"It might take time."

Hermione shrugged, standing.

"Well, there's time after you meet Malfoy. But do you really mind my being there? I'll keep to the back, promise." She held up her hands in a halting motion, eyebrows raised. "I'll even pretend to be so dazzled by the pretty paper that I won't take notice of either of you. And if things turn out bad, you'll have backup."

Harry looked up at Hermione, honestly believing she was the most amazing woman in the world.

"Let's go, then."

Draco had already purchased the books he needed. He was still uncertain the plan would work, being in the outline stage of things. But there really wasn't any alternative that he could see. As long as he worked with it, things should be fine.

Other supplies he needed he'd gotten hours ago from various places. He could do with more things that could be gotten from the school, maybe in the Room of Requirement, but he didn't know if things could only exist within the confines of the room.

Glancing lazily at the grandfather clock near the door, he saw the hands move to 10:45. And saw Harry walking towards him, Granger in tow.

You've got to be kidding me.

Why had Draco even suggested Harry meet him here? Was there any reason at all to this madness?

"Of course not," Draco muttered.

"Excuse me?" said a man in a feathered top hat next to him.

"Nothing." He moved away towards another corner of the store.

Would Harry ask why Draco had wanted him here? Draco didn't have anything prepared to say. Obviously it should have something to do with books. But what would he need Harry Potter's inference on? And why the fuck had he dragged Granger along?

A bell above the door rang as the Gryffindors entered. The two immediately split off, the Mudblood's eyes lighting up as she spotted some books off to the side.

Harry strolled up to Draco, trying not to be tense, but not able to help it. Draco felt the tension, too, and said without thinking

"I need you to help me find a book."

Harry cleared his throat, trying not to laugh. Draco wished he had a moment to find a thick tome to hit himself in the head with.

"I'd figured as much," Harry thought.

He did? Draco puzzled.

Hell no, I didn't. I thought you'd knock me unconscious with a history text and drag me into the back to – And from there were multiple ideas, few having very little to do with being taken to Voldemort.

"Well…good. I'm not sure which one I want on, er, Defense Against the Dark Arts. And since you're–" Swallow your pride, Malfoy! "–better with that kind of thing than I am, I thought you'd know what to look for."

Draco was very proud of himself for the admission. He thought a celebration with Butterscotch Scatters was in order.

"Alright, then," said Harry. "Anything specific you're looking for, or just an in general?"

Draco blinked. "Um, an in general type, but advanced?" He couldn't say why his head was bobbing the way it was.

Harry looked to see where Hermione was, and then began scouting for the section he needed. There was no way Draco really needed a Defense book. But did that mean Draco had a nefarious plot which revolved around Harry? Or had Draco invited him here just because?

It would drive Harry crazy for the rest of the day.

Author's Note: … I can function without coffee!