Author's Notes: Although I won't be updating this as often as some of my work it is still going to be posted. Again this was written before the seventh book came out so it's not going to be canon compliant after the sixth book.

Thank you to everyone that has reviewed. Hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

Chapter 10: Fools Rush In

The next day when Harry awoke, alone in a double bed in a much larger room now he had tactfully moved out of the one he had shared with Ron, he sensed there was something going on in the house before he even got up. Through his half open door he could hear quick footsteps and anxious voices coming from downstairs. Something had happened and it was serious enough that people were forgetting to be quiet around the portrait. The voices got louder as more people joined the conversation and Harry quickly threw on his clothes, wondering what time it was and what was going on. He wanted to get downstairs and find out, not to mention warn everyone to be quiet before Mrs Black awoke and began screaming again. He couldn't stand it when that happened and couldn't understand why everyone was being so careless. Unfortunately, he was too late, and the people downstairs too loud, for as he stepped out onto the landing he heard the curtain rip back and Mrs Black's screams reverberated through the house.

"MUDBLOODS! SCUM! FILTHY HALF BREEDS! HOW DARE YOU ENTER THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS…."

There were shouts from downstairs and the sound of running footsteps. Harry was just about to start down the stairs to try and help wrestle the curtain back into place when he heard a familiar voice rise above the rest.

"Shut up! Stop that screaming right now!" Harry peered round the corner of the stairs to see a sight that would have made him laugh, had the screams from the portrait not drained any possibility of deriving humour from the situation. Draco was standing in front of Mrs Black, hands on his hips, face flushed in anger, looking hot and imperious, as he shouted back at the portrait.

"I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and I have every right to be in this house. I can trace my ancestry back through a long line of pure-blooded witches and wizards, so don't you dare sit there in your portrait and accuse me of being anything else. I am your family and your blood and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. I certainly am." With that he stepped forward and jerked the unresisting curtain back across the portrait, covering the hideous face of Mrs Black. Then he turned round to the crowd of Order members standing behind him. "Do not say anything," he snapped, turning on his heel and marching back to the kitchen.

Slowly Harry began to make his way down the stairs towards the Order members who seemed to be able to do little but stand and stare at Draco's retreating figure.

"Um… would someone like to tell me what exactly is going on?" he asked gingerly, knowing that the answer would probably not be something he wanted to hear.

Moments later Harry found himself in the kitchen with Mrs Weasley piling his plate high with sausages and bacon as everyone tried to explain things to him at once. Eventually he managed to work out that there was not one, but two things that had sent everyone into a heightened state of anxiety. Firstly Borgin had apparently reported to the Daily Prophet that there had been a break in at his shop by persons unknown and it was all over the front page of the paper. That was worrying enough, since the interview in the paper also contained what Borgin clearly intended to be a stark warning to anyone coming back for a second attempt; he was doubling his anti-theft security and said that anyone caught breaking into his shop would meet a very nasty end. An emergency Order meeting had been called to decide what the next course of action should be, which explained the large number of members already gathered in the kitchen. The topic was already under vociferous debate, despite the fact that the meeting had not officially started, and Harry was having trouble working out what the second problem that had been briefly mentioned earlier actually was.

When it was finally explained properly to him, it was in Harry's opinion more immediately worrying than anything to do with retrieving the Horcrux. Blaise had received a letter from the friend his mother was staying with saying that she had been taken suddenly and mysteriously ill and that Blaise needed to go to her at once since it looked as if it was very serious. Blaise was obviously extremely concerned and eager to be off because he had disappeared to pack his trunk even before Harry had finished his breakfast. Through the crowd around the table Harry suddenly found his eyes drawn to Draco. He was sitting quietly, slightly removed from everyone else, but not for once looking aloof. The expression in his eyes was more one of sadness and Harry knew at once that his outburst at the portrait had been Draco's way of expressing the emotions Blaise's imminent departure had stirred up in him. As he was thinking this Draco looked up and met his eyes and suddenly Harry remembered what had happened last night in Borgin and Burkes. He had kissed Draco. He realised he was now looking at Draco with a slight expression of shock mixed with horror and quickly turned away blushing.

"How could I forget that?" he thought to himself as he turned his attention back to his breakfast, trying to look nonchalant.

As the memories of the kiss came flooding back Harry knew that the blush on his cheeks wasn't fading at all: in fact it was spreading down his neck making him feel extremely hot and uncomfortable. He couldn't believe he'd been staring at Draco, feeling almost sorry for him, without even remembering what he had done last night. Draco had kissed him, in the middle of Borgin's shop, for no apparent reason.

Harry suddenly frowned. How dare he? How dare Draco kiss him? Draco was supposed to be his enemy. It was true he had joined the fight against Voldemort and it was true they had been getting along better, at least some of the time, but still, Harry certainly didn't want Draco kissing him.

"That's not what you thought last night." The voice in Harry's head finally broke through his angry thoughts and Harry sighed, playing about with a bit of sausage unseeingly. He had to admit to himself that the kiss had been good, more than good in fact, and hadn't he himself kissed Draco back? Hadn't he been enjoying it just as much as Draco? He felt his blush deepening and tried to push the thoughts away. He didn't want to kiss Draco. Not last night, not now, not ever. Draco was Draco. A Malfoy, a former Death Eater, and most importantly, a guy. Harry was not into guys; he was not gay. There had been Cho and Ginny, who were almost certainly girls and he had never even looked at a guy like that before. Denial! screamed the voice in his brain and Harry was rather relieved when he was saved from acknowledging the voice as someone sat down next to him.

He turned, found it was Draco and suddenly became intensely interested in shovelling down his breakfast as fast as possible, refusing to meet Draco's eyes.

"Harry…" The voice was low and hesitant. It held a tone Harry had not heard in the voice before and it made him slow his eating slightly. "They haven't done anything, Harry."

The statement was so confusing and it was said so quietly and with such bitterness that Harry stopped eating entirely and turned to face Draco with a puzzled frown. Who hadn't done what?

"About Blaise I mean," Draco offered, his grey eyes seeming stormier than ever as they flashed between anger and distress.

"Done what? Who? What are you on about?" Harry asked, not really feeling any the wiser and not at all in the mood to play games with Draco.

"I mean about him going," Draco ran his fingers distractedly through his hair, and Harry found his own eyes were following the movement against his will. "They're all so concerned about this Horcrux and the stuff in the papers that they haven't bothered to do anything." Draco's voice had lost it's distressed tone entirely now and he was snapping out the words angrily. "Blaise has gone to pack his things because he wants to get back to his mother as soon as he can, but no one's doing anything about arranging any way for him to get there."

"Oh," Harry wasn't quite sure what to say, or what he was supposed to do. Draco was obviously telling him this for a reason but Harry was finding it hard to concentrate because looking at Draco kept reminding him of the kiss they had shared and how good it had felt to be pressed again Draco body and…. No! He refused to go anywhere near that train of thought and dragged his attention back to what Draco was saying now.

"You'll have to talk to them, Harry, they'll listen to you. Maybe they could arrange for Blaise to Floo out or something. I don't know, but he needs some way to get there and it's not like he can just leave the house and go by himself. Not after what happened to his sister…." Draco's voice trailed off, and Harry realised with some incredulousness that Draco was asking him for help. Not even help for himself, but help for his friend because he cared about him and wanted him to be able to get to his mother, even though it meant Draco himself would essentially be alone in the house.

Harry gaped at the blonde sitting in front of him as these new and strange thoughts ran through his mind. Draco actually caring about someone? Caring enough to come and ask for help from the one person he probably really didn't want to speak to after what had happened last night? The idea seemed impossible and yet here it was actually happening. For a moment Harry considered that he wasn't particularly inclined to do anything to help Draco after what he had done, but then he looked into Draco's eyes and he found any resolve melting. There was something in those eyes Harry had never seen before and it made him want to do anything in his power to help Draco.

He blinked and looked away. Was Draco trying to control him again to get his own way? Perhaps he wouldn't do anything; perhaps he wouldn't help Draco.

Harry shook his head slightly trying to stop the swirl of thoughts rushing around his head and came to a conclusion. It didn't actually matter what Draco was doing to try and get him to help. It was Blaise who would suffer if no one arranged some way for him to get back to his mother and Harry wasn't about to let that happen just to spite Draco. That was something he could never do.

"Right," he said half to himself and half to Draco, before turning to the wizard next to him. He wasn't actually too sure about his name, possibly it was Crawshaw, but he knew it was a man who took an active part in the meetings and who seemed to have a lot to say for himself. He tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me," he began as the man turned away from the discussion with an annoyed grunt. "Has anything been decided about how Blaise is going to get home?"

"I'm not sure, something will be sorted," answered the man snappily, "There's much more important things to discuss at the moment."

For some reason Harry was beginning to feel small and childish under the man's gaze, which was ridiculous since even the majority of the Order members usually held some sort of respect for him as The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry usually hated that, but suddenly he found himself wishing that familiarity and the return of Voldemort hadn't done away with most of the reverence they had previously held for him.

"Right," he said under his breath as the man turned away. He turned back to Draco to find him looking at him oddly, which didn't really help Harry's frame of mind. He was already feeling highly strung trying to sort out his confusion from last night and now he'd just been slighted by someone who, when it came down to it, was probably expecting him to defeat Voldemort and save the entire wizarding world, just like everyone else. Usually Harry would not have thought like that even for a second, and even in the midst of his anger he knew that it was slightly wrong to be annoyed with someone who was probably just feeling the pressure of the situation. All the same though, Harry was annoyed.

"Right," he said again and this time there was a different edge to his voice. He pushed his plate aside, almost upsetting the contents into Draco's lap, and before he could even think he had clambered up onto the table. Few people noticed, since he had been sitting towards the end and everyone was too absorbed in the discussion. That annoyed Harry even more, and suddenly he felt a tingle rush through his body, setting his senses on high alert, making him feel like he could do anything.

"QUIET!" he roared, and there was instant silence. "Stop whatever it is you are doing and work out how Blaise is going to get home. Do it now and do it quickly." The rush of rage, which had propelled Harry onto the table and made him issue orders as if he was the commander of an army, was fading now. "Please," he added, staring round at the shocked faces below him. He turned and got off the table as the conversation started up again, but this time, Harry could hear they were talking about how Blaise would get to his mother.

"There. Happy?" he said as he flopped down besides Draco, feeling slightly embarrassed. He'd have to apologise for that outburst later at the proper meeting, but for now it seemed to have got results. He glanced over at Draco and was surprised to see that his face was blank and his eyes glassy, although even as he gazed Draco blinked a few times and the glassiness was gone, replaced by a look of shock and even a hint of admiration.

"Wow, Potter, I never thought you had that in you," he drawled, having obviously put any thoughts about Blaise's impending departure aside in favour of winding Harry up. "I almost went to join in myself then, even I had to fight pretty hard to avoid obeying."

Harry realised then that the glassiness had been the result of some powerful Occlumency on Draco's part.

"Why? What do you mean?" he asked, puzzled as to why Draco had felt such a need to 'obey' as he put it, although Harry was loathe to use that word since he felt it made him sound too much like Voldemort demanding complete obedience from his Death Eaters.

"You were standing up there, above everyone else and I could feel the power coming off you. It was in your voice as you shouted at everyone, I bet they couldn't help but do what you asked."

"I was just angry," Harry shrugged. "I wanted them to listen." He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Was it really like that?"

"Yes it was," chimed in another voice. Hermione had appeared by his side. "I heard you shouting from the hall, what on earth were you doing?"

"I was just annoyed," Harry said, feeling this explanation was wearing thin and not really seeing what the fuss was about. "No one was doing anything about Blaise's mother so I asked them to do something."

"You mean, you commanded them," said Hermione, looking unimpressed. "In a tone that they couldn't possibly disobey. I don't know how you've just managed to command a group of powerful wizards to do exactly what you want just by shouting, but I do know you sounded powerful Harry. Powerful and frightening."

"Shit."

Harry felt that word summed up his feelings and the events of the morning nicely. He suspected he knew exactly how he had done it. Voldemort had transferred some of his power into him when he was a child, or so Dumbledore had told him, and now when he had got angry and frustrated there was a distinct possibility that it had leaked out in an unexpected way. He sighed and climbed back on the table.

"Erm… excuse me…" he said, feeling a lot more sheepish than he had last time. What if everyone was annoyed at what he had done?

No one took any notice.

"Excuse me!" he yelled louder. This time the talking gradually died down until everyone was looking at him. He waited until there was silence.

"Look I'm er… really sorry about that. I didn't mean to yell, it's just that Blaise is worried about his mother and we need to help him get back home rather than worrying about the Horcrux for now. The Horcrux can wait, someone's family is much more important, especially in times like these." Harry could see Tonks grinning encouragingly from the back of the room and he gathered his courage, although he really felt like he was way out of his depth talking to The Order like this. "People are more important than anything else. I got angry, it was stupid, but we still need to work out how Blaise can get to his mother safely without giving away her location and whilst keeping him safe, so I'd appreciate it if we could all come up with something first and leave the papers and the Horcrux until afterwards. Thank you."

There was a general murmur of agreement and Harry got down from the table. Blaise had appeared and was now talking urgently with Draco, a moment later they both left, with Draco giving Harry a parting, genuine smile of thanks. Harry was confused. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts now, to think about what had happened this morning. He needed to sort out his feelings about Draco and, most importantly, about that kiss.

He escaped to the study to think about it, until he was summoned to the meeting an hour later, having worked nothing out and come to no conclusions about anything.

Draco hadn't really been sure about whether he should ask Harry for help. But Blaise was his friend and the last thing Blaise had said before he went upstairs to pack was that if the Order didn't come up with something then he would just leave the house and take whatever Muggle or wizard transport he needed to get to his mother. Her illness was serious and the letter said that in the brief periods she drifted into consciousness she asked for him constantly. Draco could see in his friend's eyes the worry and anxiety he was feeling and he knew that he couldn't let Blaise attempt the journey by himself without at least trying to get Harry to spur the Order members into action.

He wasn't sure how Harry would react to him after their kiss last night, but he knew there was no one else he could ask for help. The Order would all brush him off, except perhaps Mrs Weasley, but when Draco recalled her as an alternative and tried to look for her she seemed to have disappeared. He had no choice then, he would ask Harry to talk to the Order. Never mind his wounded pride at Harry's sudden exit and never mind that Harry would probably refuse to help, it was the only thing he could do for his friend.

Putting himself out for a friend was a new experience for Draco and at first he was embarrassed, but partway through the explanation to Harry he found he was only angry. Angry at The Order, who Blaise had been willing to risk his life to help, for doing nothing to help him in his hour of need.

He hadn't known his request would have such explosive results.

Afterwards he went upstairs with Blaise, who seemed strangely pleased by what Draco had done and more grateful than Draco thought was really necessary. He didn't realise that for the first time in his life he had actually done something which made Blaise think he might care about someone other than himself. Their's had been a strange friendship. One of respect, trust, and occasionally sex, but it had still been quite a selfish friendship, particularly on Draco's side. Now for the first time it wasn't and that was something new for both of them.

Blaise left after a late lunch, accompanied by two Order members who would ensure he made the journey safely. They were going to take the Floo network in stages across London, then a Portkey across the Channel to France, then another south to Italy, then Apparate to near the house and walk the final distance. The members would then return to England leaving Blaise with his mother.

There was only time for a quick goodbye in the study. Blaise shook hands with the few Order members gathered around and kissed Draco on both cheeks whist exchanging a few words in French that no one else could hear. Finally he came to Harry and shook his hand with more vigour than any of the others.

"Thank you," he murmured, and there was no need for him to say what he was thanking Harry for.

"You're welcome," was all Harry could think of in reply, followed quickly by, "I hope your mother feels better soon." Blaise gave a half smile then stepped into the large fireplace, which the two Order members accompanying him had already gone through. A flash of green smoke later he was gone, and after waiting a few minutes to check no one came back to report trouble, everyone drifted away. Harry noticed Draco had stayed behind as he followed Hermione and Ron out the room and tactfully closed the door, leaving the blonde staring into the now empty fireplace, lost in his own thoughts.

That night, after Harry was sure everyone was asleep in bed he got up, pulled on his invisibility cloak and crept down to the study. He was going back to Borgin and Burkes.

The Order had decided earlier that day that nothing could now be done about retrieving the locket until they could find out exactly what sort of curses and anti-theft jinxes had been placed around the shop. It would take several nights of careful reconnaissance by experienced Aurors to gather the required information and then probably many weeks before they worked out the counter-charms for all of them to enable them to steal the locket without fear of putting anyone in more danger than was strictly necessary.

Harry wasn't prepared to wait that long. What if the locket got sold? What if Voldemort somehow discovered it was not where he had hidden it and managed to ascertain its whereabouts? He might steal it for himself, or even send someone to buy it back for him. It was too risky to wait and Harry had decided he was going to go alone tonight to the shop to have another look at the situation for himself.

He wasn't stupid enough to try and break the curses, or to simply try taking the locket, and in truth he wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do once he got to the shop. He just felt that he needed to go, if only to see the shop again for himself and check the locket was still there. Perhaps just being there again would trigger some ideas in his mind.

The journey through the Floo was just as uncomfortable as ever for Harry and he landed more heavily than he would have liked at the other end. He quickly scrambled to his feet, then froze, listening carefully for any sounds that might indicate he had been heard. Long minutes passed and when Harry heard nothing he assumed Borgin was still asleep so he lit his wand and crept quietly over to where the locket was stored.

He had barely reached the cabinet containing the locket when a slight creak made him hesitate. It had only been slight, and it could just have been the building settling, but it had come from the back of the shop and Harry didn't want to be caught off guard.

"Nox," he murmured and the light from his wand faded, just as another, louder creak reached his ears. This time Harry was certain it was the sound of someone coming quietly down the stairs and he cursed inwardly. Either Borgin was an extremely light sleeper or there was some sort of alarm system that had awoken him.

Quickly Harry shoved his wand in his pocket and squeezed into the alcove he and Draco had shared the night before. The recollection of what had happened there made him blush and he could feel his thoughts going off down a very unwelcome path when the door at the back of the shop opened, effectively snapping him back to the present.

"Well, well, well," came the oily tones of Borgin. "Trying to hide are we? Well I've got you good and proper this time, there's no escape." Borgin began shuffling carefully along the wall, making sure to thrust his wand into all the shadows and Harry considered whether it was better to leap out and stun him now whilst there was still some distance between them, or wait till he got closer when there was more chance of hitting him.

It was then Harry realised he couldn't move.

There was no escape.

Someone was going downstairs. Someone who didn't want to be heard.

Draco lay in bed staring at the ceiling and considering whether it was likely that someone was just going down to the kitchen for a late night snack or whether this was something more interesting that might be worth getting out of bed to investigate.

He had slept only fitfully so far; with Blaise gone he was now alone and he dreaded the return of the nightmares that often came when he slept in a room by himself. The reaction of the others if he woke up the whole house with his screams was not something he wanted to experience. Scorn, laughter, pity, ridicule, he didn't really want to have to face any of those things. He was still a Malfoy and he would not have people thinking he was a coward, or knowing what went on inside his head.

Another sound caught his attention. Even though it was muffled Draco recognised the unmistakable whooshing sound of someone using the Floo.

He was out of bed and pulling on his clothes before his mind had even registered the thought that Harry - stupid, arrogant, impatient Harry was going back to Borgin and Burkes. Even after the thought had registered Draco spared the brief moments it took him to grab his wand and run silently downstairs to the study to think about how he knew this. He hadn't used Legilimency, which was usually the way he would find out something like this, for once he just felt like he knew because this was Harry and this was the sort of stupid thing he would do.

It took him a few precious moments to locate the Floo powder, which was only in a small jar and which Harry had inexplicably moved to the coffee table. What if Harry had done something stupid, like attempt to break the curses round the locket? There wasn't much powder left in the jar and Draco swore under his breath at whoever had forgotten to top it up. What if Borgin caught Harry in his shop and carried out his threat from The Daily Prophet? He tipped the remaining powder into his hand, spilling some of it on the floor, and threw himself into the empty grate. What if he was already too late?

Despite his hasty and rather panicky exit from Grimauld Place, Draco landed elegantly and almost silently in the fireplace at Borgin and Burkes. The first thing he saw was Borgin moving cautiously along the wall, his wand held defensively in front of him, luckily too intent on his task to have noticed Draco's arrival. Draco couldn't see Harry, but he assumed he was somewhere safely out of sight under his invisibility cloak.

As he watched, Borgin carefully prodded his wand into the alcove next to the one he and Harry had hidden in the night before and Draco frowned in puzzlement. What was he doing? Surely he didn't expect a burglar to just stand and wait to be discovered? Certainly that wouldn't be what Harry was doing. Would it?

A moment of doubt crossed Draco's mind. He didn't like this at all. Something wasn't right and he was putting a stop to it.

"Stupefy!" Borgin immediately crumpled to the ground and Draco swiftly crossed the shop to bind his hands and feet and relieve him of his wand.

"Ok, Harry I know you're in here. You might as well come out."

Silence.

Draco frowned in annoyance. Was Harry trying to pretend he wasn't here in the hope that Draco would go away?

"Come on, Potter, don't play games."

More silence.

Draco's frown deepened. What did Potter think he was playing at? This didn't seem right at all.

"Fine, Potter. Have it your way."

He turned and started towards the fireplace.

Harry saw Draco arrive in the fireplace and was thankful Borgin seemed too wrapped up in trying to find him to have noticed. He just hoped Draco would do something before Borgin got to him. The man was already only second away from discovering Harry's whereabouts.

He sighed inwardly with relief as Draco frowned, then finally sent a stunning spell at Borgin just as he reached Harry's alcove. As Draco came over and began to bind the unconscious man with ropes from his wand Harry realised there was still a huge problem. Draco was near enough for him to reach out and touch; if only he could reach out. He was still petrified and invisible and his wand was still in his pocket. For the hundredth time Harry cursed himself for being stupid enough to actually let go of his wand. With his wand even he, hopeless at he was at silent magic, could undo a Petrification spell; without it he could do nothing, since his wandless magic hadn't improved at all in the past year. Then again, he thought, as Draco straightened up, Borgin had obviously been confident of his little trap so perhaps it was more than a 'simple' petrification spell.

"Ok, Harry, I know you're in here. You might as well come out."

Harry felt that there was nothing he would have liked better than to step out of the alcove and thank Draco for coming after him, but unfortunately there was nothing he could do. He tried desperately to focus his magic and undo the spell, but it was a pointless exercise.

"Come on, Potter, don't play games."

Great. Now Malfoy was annoyed and they were back to last names. Surely the idiot would realise something had happened to him when he didn't respond? He tried to speak, but of course nothing came out.

"Fine, Potter. Have it your way."

Yes. Right. This was just what he wanted. To be stuck petrified under an invisibility cloak with no hope of being found until Borgin freed himself, pulled him out and then most probably handed him over to Voldemort. Yes that was in every way the better alternative. What was the prat playing at? Surely it didn't take a genius to figure out he wasn't responding because he wasn't able to?

He realised Draco was heading back to the fireplace and his annoyance changed into alarm. Surely Draco wouldn't just leave? He strained against the spell holding him in place beginning to panic.

Draco stopped with one foot in the hearth and suddenly whipped round.

"Accio invisibility cloak." Harry felt the material pulling away and although it was trapped between his body and the wall, enough of it came away to reveal his head and shoulders, much to Draco's obvious amusement.

"You thought I was going to leave you behind then, didn't you?" he mocked as he came over to stand directly in front of Harry. "I should have done really. Surely you must have known that coming back here would be like walking straight into a trap? Or maybe the great Harry Potter thinks he's untouchable and doesn't need to worry about such things?"

Harry cringed inwardly and considered that perhaps he'd been wrong and being handed over to Voldemort was preferable to facing Malfoy's self-satisfied smirk. How long was he going to stand there and gloat before actually did something to help him?

"Ok, let's see." Harry suddenly realised that Draco's hands were on his shoulders and running down his back, which was still covered by the invisibility cloak. At that moment he was glad he was petrified because if he hadn't been his body would surely have been tremoring under Draco's touch. As it was he felt the blood rushing to his cheeks and he tried desperately to squash down the memories of Draco's hands running over his body as he kissed him for fear that the blood might start rushing somewhere even more embarrassing than his cheeks.

He didn't want to think about that kiss. It had meant nothing. There was no way he was going to let it happen again. He just didn't see Draco in that way. Didn't even see men in that way…. Draco's hand had slipped around to his chest now and Harry realised that he was carefully extracting the invisibility cloak. Once it was off Draco ran his eyes over Harry's body in a way that made him feel very exposed and suddenly naked. The blood, which had been threatening to head downwards, suddenly changed its mind and Harry was certain his entire face had now turned a very bright shade of red.

"From the way you're standing I'd say this wasn't an instant petrification spell, it probably took hold of you slowly," Draco commented. It seemed he hadn't actually been checking him out at all. Harry was mostly relieved and did his best to ignore the small part of his brain that was disappointed by the revelation.

"I've seen one like this before, I should be able to undo it," Harry barely caught the words and so wasn't really ready when a moment later he found he could suddenly move again. He stumbled out of the alcove, and luckily, or unluckily, into Draco's arms rather than the nearest cabinet. Scrambling to find his footing, Harry found himself gazing into Draco's eyes, their faces closer than was strictly necessary even in the circumstances. For a moment Harry was worried that Draco was going to kiss him again, but instead he pushed him upright and began to brush off his own clothes as if Harry might have somehow made them dirty.

There was that disappointment again, a bit stronger this time. Harry bit his lip and ignored it.

Draco took a deep breath as he pushed Harry away. He'd been so close to kissing him again and he wasn't about to let that happen. Harry had made his feelings about it very clear last night and Draco was not about to set himself up for a second rejection. He wasn't even sure what had made him kiss Harry in the first place. Although he could at least admit to himself that Harry was kind of good looking, when you looked at him in a certain way, he knew that was no reason to go kissing him at every opportunity.

It had been good though. Draco had enjoyed it more than he liked to acknowledge even to himself. The feel of Harry's hand running through his hair, the contours of Harry's body pressed against his, the way Harry had melted into him, surrendering himself for that brief moment before reality seemed to strike and Draco had found himself pushed away without so much as a second glance.

What did that matter though? Draco began brushing himself down vigorously to empty his mind of the unwanted recollections. Potter clearly had issues with his sexuality and Draco wasn't going to let that become any concern of his. It had been a kiss – a good kiss, admittedly – but still just a kiss. Draco wasn't about to go chasing round after Potter, or worrying about what he might be thinking. That just wasn't what he did. It had been a one off, a moment of weakness on his part and something that he would ensure never happened again.

He straightened up to find Harry gazing at Borgin, seemingly lost in thought.

"Come on, Potter, we need to do something before he comes round." He saw Harry flinch as he used his last name and cringed slightly, wishing he could take it back. Harry had trusted him, taken him in, persuaded the others to trust him, not to mention what he had done this morning and they had been on first name terms. Now because of some stupid kiss they were going to revert to last names only again?

Draco still had his pride though; he might have changed enough to acknowledge the stupidity of the situation, but it was not enough for him to even consider backing down first.

"Fine, Malfoy," Harry emphasised the use of his last name and Draco knew his own flinch was just as visible as Harry's had been. "What do you suggest?"

Instead of answering Draco went and retrieved a chair from behind the counter and wordlessly Harry helped him manhandle the still unconscious Borgin onto it. Once that was done Draco left Harry to bind the man to the chair whilst he conjured a large silk scarf and made sure there was no chance of Borgin screaming for help as soon as he awoke.

"Good," he said vaguely, regarding Borgin through narrowed eyes as they stood admiring their handiwork. Harry cleared his throat, sounding rather nervous and Draco turned to see him looking pink with embarrassment. He opened his mouth and Draco hoped he wasn't about to bring up the kiss. The last thing he wanted was some deep discussion about what it all meant.

"Thank you." Draco blinked in surprise. That wasn't what he had been expecting.

"What?"

"For rescuing me tonight," Harry explained quickly, giving him a rather sheepish look. "And for yesterday as well I guess." At this point Harry suddenly became very interested in the pattern he was tracing on the floor with the toe of his trainer. There was a short pause. "I guess it was stupid of me to come back here alone tonight," Harry finished, rushing to get the words out as if they would clear the air of unspoken thoughts about what exactly had happened last night.

"Yes, well…" Draco could think of nothing to say back. This was the second time Harry had thanked him for something like this and he found the experience no less strange than he had the first time. He was as used to being thanked as he was to thanking people, which was not at all.

"You seem to be doing this a lot lately." Harry was looking at him now, half smiling and half frowning.

"What?" said Draco, for the second time in as many minutes.

"Saving my life."