Synopsis: Before Neville left Hogwarts, he destroyed Ravenclaw's Diadem and just as he left the others at the train station, he told his Gran he wanted to move out on his own at twelve years old?

The story switches to Harry, who was having a great summer so far and even got a crate of his mother's old stuffs. The story did not change though and Harry, left to roam outside after blowing up his aunt, suddenly found himself Portkey-ed to a bar's toilet?

Chapter 43 – The chapter that actual tells how Neville really spent his summer, so far.

Cornelius Fudge rubbed his tired eyes as he stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron in his failed search. First there was the escape of Sirius Black from Azkaban, and now Black's prime target, Harry Potter, went and ran away from his house. Fudge personally thought Harry Potter was just a stubborn rebellious kid that would be nothing but trouble the first moment he saw the scrawny boy a few months ago. If he was the headmaster of Hogwarts he would never have believed those little boys took out a Basilisk even if his own life depended on it, and that it was supposedly behind those attacks. The only reason Fudge stepped aside and let the whole thing drop was because of Dumbledore of course – though he still occasionally had nightmares about the press questioning him about resumed attacks at Hogwarts after summer.

Whatever Fudge's own impression on Harry Potter was, he was still The-Boy-Who-Lived in the public eyes and if anything were to happen to him, the press would have a great time antagonising the Minister for not even be capable of protecting a small child. Fudge vowed to take over that pesky Daily Prophet one of these days – and actually had plans that were slowly but surely in motion.

Just as Fudge wondered if he could rally more support from within the Ministry to add pressure to the major newspaper company, he spotted a suspicious pair approaching him from the darkened city streets. It was a man donning an elaborate black cloak even in this humid summer night and tagging along beside him, stumbling left and right, was no other than Harry Potter. Fudge's mouth curled up in distaste as he recognised the man bringing in the wizarding world's idol, but of course fixed it into a small smile as they greeted in meeting.

" Why, Minister! Strange to see you hanging about in the middle of the street at this time of night." The blonde man commented in a tone that Fudge heard as a spike. Fudge's smile tightened slightly, as he had taken up to do whenever he met this man for the past several weeks.

" Where did you pick up Mr Potter and why did you not inform the Ministry?" Fudge then turned to Harry and showered him with a grandfather-type smile. Though Harry Potter had caused Fudge troubles, at least the kid's troubles were a lot more fitting for his actual age and status. " Harry oh Harry. We've been looking all over for you. You mustn't just run away from home like that."

" A-are you going to expel me Minister with the funny Bowler Hat?" Harry said with a red face and lazy eyes.

" Oh of course not Harry. It was just… an accident wasn't it? We don't expel people from Hogwarts just for blowing up their aunts! Plus, we are in… emergency circumstances and I think we can overlook unpermitted magic use with that in mind." Fudge forced out a laugh as Harry just giggled and almost fell over his own feet. Taking a whiff of Harry's breath, Fudge sharply turned back to the man, once again having to put on a tight smile. " Once again I urge you not to enter any more Muggle bars. Though there is this slight loophole in the wizarding underage drinking law, be assured I will look into amending it the moment my schedule frees up."

The blonde man, who looked nothing younger than twenty years old, inclined his head to the side and casually asked, " What makes you think I have been in a Muggle bar Minister? I am sure every other Hogwarts students on their summer holidays right now would like to give it a go if they knew how easy it is to trick those Muggle barmen – but surely I don't have clue."

Fudge's face glowed red as if he had been holding his breath – ever since he first saw this irksome scoundrel at the start of the Hogwarts summer holidays. Unlike Harry, if Neville Longbottom were to cause trouble for Fudge, that trouble would be in the rank of telling every underage wizard that they could be served as much alcohol as they wanted by fooling Muggles with an Ageing Potion. Fudge really needed that law rectified first thing after recapturing Black – classing Ageing Potions at the same restricted class as Polyjuice would be nice. At least then Fudge would not have to stare up at that infuriating smile while Neville's real height should be levelled with a dwarf.

If Fudge had just put a stop to Neville from the beginning, those high-classed and influential figures would never have even initiated a greeting with some snort-nosed boy. Before Fudge knew it, even his wife was talking about 'the charming young man at The Hoglake Shop'. That old crack Algie Longbottom had opened up The Hoglake Shop at Diagon Alley in Spring, and starting from his retired circle of friends, the game had started to replace chess as one of the games pureblood played to look smart. As Neville and his summer PR campaign milked, 'Quidditch for the Brawns. Hoglake for the Brains'.

Fudge, and many of the common folks, was not that familiar with the new game of Hoglake until Neville's takeover of the shop's operation. Parents with children started streaming into The Hoglake Shop after the summer holidays begin and the students told them all about it. Thanked to Algie's establishment of Hoglake being a new fashion icon for the sophisticated, even the high prices for a single mask were made to seem reasonable, almost like buying a broomstick.

As if that was not enough for the greedy bugger, Fudge could no longer go anywhere without seeing a poster of Gilderoy Lockhart in his official Hoglake robes. Fresh from his new wave of popularity for allegedly defeating the monster that was causing attacks at Hogwarts, Lockhart somehow became the new face for The Hoglake Shop and promoting a new line of clothes that were supposedly made for playing Hoglake. Of course, the housewives and children lapped that marketing scam up as well and were practically throwing galleons at the boy under the notion of stupid consumerism and group mentality. Fudge's nephew Rufus was a prime example: having bought seven different sets of those Hoglake robes for each day of the week.

Having connections in high places, ancient pureblood status, ever-increasing wealth and fabricated respect for inventing the game that was currently gripping the wizarding community, Fudge had to treat Neville Longbottom as he treated Lucius Malfoy. Both men were best dealt with one eye closed despite Fudge's dislike of both – but disliking the brat Longbottom even more since he had still to learn the political technicality of sending bribes. Fudge told himself to just bear Longbottom until Hogwarts started again and changed the subject, "Where did you find Harry, Longbottom?"

" You see, Harry writes to me weekly and once I know of how insufferable it was for him, I used my owl to deliver him a Portkey to join me for a bit. It just happens the parcel was delivered at a chanced timing." Of course the Portkey delivery was orchestrated beforehand, but no one else in this world would know that apart from Neville himself.

" Are you confessing to illegally creating a Portkey Longbottom?" Fudge asked almost hopefully. He had been trying to convict Longbottom of performing underage magic, knowing that was the easiest way of teaching the boy his place. Unfortunately, mixing ingredients and brewing Potions was just as criminal a charge as cooking chicken soup. Now supposedly having used underage magic and performing an unauthorised Portus spell, Fudge showed his genuine smile for the first time in front of Neville.

Unluckily for Fudge, his smile was short lived as Neville laughed, " Of course not Minister! For a businessman, I am one of the most upstanding citizens in our wizarding community! The Portkey was cleared and sent to me from the head of the Department of Magical Transportation. I had asked Gamp about it at the shop, if you need witnesses. Plus Minister, we are, as you say, in emergency circumstances here with Black's escape."

" You know about Black wanting to – well no matter!" Fudge stopped himself in time and very roughly steered the topic away again, " Why didn't you just Apparate Harry to the Ministry immediately once you've found him?"

Neville gave Fudge a slap right back, metaphorically. " Apparate Minister? I am underage as you are well aware of when you tried to accuse me of Apparating last week. Unless you are planning to revoke the law for Underage Apparition, then I would earn a licence right away and Apparate Harry right to your doorsteps the next time he disappears."

Fudge visibly shook and had reached his boiling point for today. Then as he did every time that happened, which was almost every time he met Neville, he made an excuse, " Harry. Now let's get you inside the Leaky Cauldron. We do have a little to talk about and you need a good night's rest."

" I hope I leave my friend in good, safe, and competent hands Minster." Neville could see Fudge almost walking into the wall in blind rage as he led Harry inside the inn. As if dealing a finishing blow, Neville added as if Fudge was a common babysitter, " And do remember to pick up Harry's luggage left near his house. The Ministry should be capable of finding those at least, they're right in the middle of the road."

After Fudge slammed the inn's front door shut, Neville Apparated with a swish of Dracula's Cloak.

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Neville woke up to the sounds of bustling downstairs at the shop. He yawned and mechanically dragged his feet towards the large desk right in front of the window, facing the morning of Diagon Alley. On his way across the room, Neville had already performed the charms to save him the Muggle morning routines and was prepared to tackle the flock of owls already gathered on either sides of the large desk. Grunting out the incantation to make Espresso from the machine sitting on his Mini-bar right next to the desk, he began answering his costumers, manufacturers, and the few rare letters that were not work-related.

Today he had one from Elena, who he had taken up regular correspondence with since he wrote back enquiring about the purpose of that useless letter on Valentine's Day. This letter from her had consisted of her bragging about a trip to Peru and how Dracula had finally opened up a branch of The Hoglake Shop in Bulgaria after the profit he earned as shareholder in Britain.

After Neville finished his letters and coffee, he put on a set of Hoglake robes, which his advertising had promoted as a smart-casual type of attire now in the wizarding society. It was styled similar to a tuxedo vest: V-necked, joined in the middle, and a coat tail flowing behind where he walked using an Elegance Charm or two. Adjusting his accented sleeve cuffs, Neville made a mental note to send Lockhart a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey as personal thanks for the success of the Hoglake clothing campaign.

Let's face it, unlike the Quidditch uniforms Cho designed, Hoglake isn't an activity that needed to be waterproofed or wind-resistant. Hanging around the Fashion Club did make me learn a thing or two about making clothes look good at least. If only there were professional Hoglake teams, we can sell these like Manchester United stripes.

Neville did not even need to use the Eton Ear as a threat to get Lockhart to accept his business proposal – looking good for the media with minimal words coming out of Lockhart's mouth. There were benefits for both parties after all: Lockhart could gain further exposure and even a salary; Neville could get housewives and common households into Hoglake and vastly spread the game to different social levels. I'm really not sure why Lockhart didn't do modelling earlier – after all, this one isn't a fabricated talent.

Neville drew Dracula's Cloak around him and climbed down the stairs to The Hoglake Shop. After much persuasion, Gran had allowed him to live above the shop if Neville would come back to the Manor at least once a week. Neville was greeted by the sight of his employees going about their morning routine restocking and cleaning before the shop opened. The guys were all toned in tank tops while the girls were young and prancing about in mini-robes. Shallow and semi-revealing uniforms on attractive staffs didn't just draw in customers, but also a great sight for mornings.

Making sure they knew what they were doing, Neville left for Gringotts Bank as he did every morning. The usual things Muggle business did, like getting change in coins for the day or cashing cheques, could all be accomplished by magic at the store of course – but Neville took to the routine. The reason was not because Goblins were the cheeriest morning people of course. Neville would spend his time waiting in the queue studying the routine of the Goblins and the bank – scouting out the surroundings just as Oceans Eleven would do it. Unfortunately for Neville, he was a lot less talented than Danny Ocean and had still to come up with the prefect heist for the Horcrux well-guarded miles underneath his feet.

" Next!" The goblin at the high desk today, Whackbock, glanced up at Neville over his chained spectacles. " The usual Mr Longbottom?"

Impressing a goblin was a lot more than being polite and speaking Gobbledegook, a language which Neville was finding just as plausibly impossible to learn as the next wizard. After weeks of coming here, he had yet to catch a glimpse of the legendary bank manager, a character who everyone should be able to commonly call upon in the first or second chapter of fanfictions. Then again, a goblin remembering a wizard's banking routines was a feat in itself, and that was because Neville had by chance explained to Whackbock how Muggle credit cards worked before when a Muggle tried to exchange money this way.

" Good morning Whackbock, and yes the usual. I would also like to visit my family's high security vault again." Neville actually had to pry the permission from Old Al using the excuse that there were possibly books that would help his magical research in the Longbottom vault. For Old Al to try and deny him anything these days was a wonder in itself, but his suspicions quickly went away after the time they visited Neville's own new personal vault nearer to the surface. Neville might not be as rich as Harry, but he would no longer need to ration his Temporarily Invisibility Potions anymore.

Whackbock gave Neville a look as if he was a teacher hearing one of his students needing a toilet break again and commented, " I have never seen a wizard that visits his family vault so often Master Longbottom. The curious thing is, you never seem to bring anything in or out of the vault either."

" There's this book in there I have use of on a regular basis… My great uncle said it is too valuable to bring out of your care." Neville fabricated an excuse. Of course he only suffered those underground cart rides to observe the security down there and have a look at the Lestrange vault that was so close to the Longbottom's.

This was probably the twentieth time Neville went down there and for the twentieth time, he was empty-handed as he staggered out of the Gringotts building. Well that's a Horcrux I won't get any time soon. Not to mention the luck of the protagonists, but even if I'd done exactly as Harry did in the last book, I'll never be able to live afterwards. It's not like I had any basis to get off for robbery as Harry did using the excuse: 'defeating a dark wizard to liberate the whole wizarding world'.

Wondering if he could get Norbert down there to have a fight against that half-blind Hungarian Horntail, Neville headed back to The Hoglake Shop. Once he stepped in, he was most unpleasantly greeted by a thirty-something woman with an excess of makeup and contaminated his shop with a dreadful density of perfume. " Ms Rosier. A pleasure to meet you again."

" Neville! Neville! Oh how are you today darling?" Ms Rosier flittered over to him after prying her eyes from the ass of a now-relieved male staff.

" Just my daily trip to Gringotts." Neville restrained a frown at his increasing lack of oxygen as she approached. " Can I interest you in any of our merchandises today?"

" I've always been interested in your merchandise Neville," Ms Rosier winked and almost made Neville puke out the take-out croissant he ate on his way to Gringotts.

" Am I to understand you are flirting with me Ms Rosier?" Neville tried not to flinch as the woman twirled her finger on his chest, her manicured nails sharp as a tigress's. God, I just hate to admit how Mrs Robinson re-enactments are so regular in my shop…

" Oh I'm not trying to Neville. Do you want me to?" Ms Rosier giggled and covered her mouth. As if you have any sense of decency to begin with. " You know about my terrible divorce not long ago. What's a little fun with my favourite Hoglake inventor?"

" Am I to take that as a request to pick out another set of Hoglake robes for you?" Neville faked a laugh and swiftly moved towards the clothing section. The best way to deal with this sort of customer were to get them up to the cashier with something, anything, and leave as soon as possible so I can throw an air-cleansing spell after them.

Ms Rosier followed of course. They always followed. " Oh why can't you act more like your age and stop trying to steal money out of my purse like the other naughty young boys."

" Then you should know I am thirteen Ms Rosier." Neville tried not to let it get to him that Ms Rosier was one of his costumers that knew he was using an Ageing Potion.

Neville always used his real name when he initiated conversations with a costumer to expand his social network, and with his appearance of being a twenty-something well-groomed pureblood, no one would suspect anything less. By the time their topic of conversation involved something that forced Neville to verify his real age, they no longer cared that what they saw was not what was underneath. Phileas Gamp for example, head of Department of Magical Transportation, was mortified that he had been talking to a child still at Hogwarts but was so impressed with the Charms theory Neville was discussing that they just kept on talking. Some costumers though, Ms Rosier for instance, took 'not minding' to a new level.

" Well you're the only thirteen year-old who owns his own business, talks as if his mouth was rinsed with honey, and looks good enough to eat." Ms Rosier added in a husky tone that was supposed to be erotic, but reminded Neville of a chain-smoker. " And I'm into younger men anyway."

" The way I see it, you just enjoy the thrill of walking near the edge of law." Neville never thought in his life he would be under the protection of underage laws. " Actually, our product development team has been designing a new style of Hoglake pieces that looks more… provocative… Oh you didn't think Hoglake players would look like giant chess pieces forever, did you? Did you forget the Magical Creatures edition we released last month? Not to mention we always take orders for custom-made masks."

After almost the whole morning of listening to… actually Neville forgot what the conversation was about and half shoved Ms Rosier with her bags out his shop. Neville took a deep breath of magically-induced fresh air again and leaned against the table displaying Board Hoglake sets, the tiny Hoglake pieces playing against each other magically as demonstration. There was a backroom where real matches could be played on site – and it was getting expanded to put up for rent like indoor basketball courts.

Yeah… business is good.

" Neville?" A young voice asked from behind him.

He reflexively slapped on a smile and turned around, preparing to put his hands on his knees and bend down to the kid's eye-level to look more endearing but froze when he saw that it was Harry. Neville closed his gapping mouth and sighed at the awkward expression on Harry's face. " Been here long?"

" A bit," Harry answered nonchalantly. " Just walking about Diagon Alley, you know. Thought I'd drop by to have a look at your new store. I heard it's really popular these days."

" Yeah, business is good." Both of them glanced at the front door that Ms Rosier exited from a moment ago. Neville cleared his throat and got a grip on himself with a swish of Dracula's Cloak behind him. " Well let's go Harry. It's not often you get to spend your days in freedom."

Harry cracked a smile, " You make it sound like I'm just out from prison."

" Well practically. Hey Jude! Take care of the shop! I'm going away for a bit." With that, Neville and Harry stepped out into the crowded streets. It was a weekend and therefore was busier than usual. " Had a good stay at the Leaky Cauldron Harry?"

" Oh yeah, I've never stayed at an inn before." Harry added darkly, " And never woke up with a hangover."

" Haha, there's a spell for that. It's a bit complex but nothing Hermione can't do." At the mention of that, Neville just silently whipped out his wand and performed the spell by tapping Harry's forehead.

Harry jumped as if he had just received an electrical shock, " Neville! You just did underage magic! You'll be expelled!"

" You've been very much misguided about the Trace." Neville went on to explain to Harry about the flawed magic monitoring system.

" I – I can't believe it works like this! I mean, I can even use magic right now?" Harry asked and looked up at Neville with an excited gaze.

" Yes you may." This was when Neville noticed how Harry had grown taller through summer and pointed at Madam Malkin's. " You've grown quite a bit taller Harry, we should get you some new robes."

" Okay." Harry shuffled his feet into the shop after Neville opened the door for him. During his fitting, Neville talked more about the establishment of his business's clothing branch after Harry asked him about the Hoglake robes on display. They only talked a little last night at the bar, most of the time Neville gave Harry a crash course about bar-etiquette and Muggle alcohol. He wondered how much Harry remembered after trying the Gin Fizz, Manhattan, and then the Tequila Slammer.

By the time they came out of the Madam Malkin's, it was Harry's turn to talk more about the discovery of Lily's old things. Neville had been thrilled after hearing about it in one of Harry's letters. I can't believe there really are the 'parents' relics' in his world. I mean, it isn't a super powerful wand, Potter family crests, or Harry being a part-super-human race, but from that look on his face, the boy's inherited a real treasure.

" I'm just glad you found your mother's things Harry. But I'm sure I can guess what the most important find was," Neville could not keep a smile off his face as he said this. " Just imagine the fun times we would have if the pictures of young Snape were ever to fall into Sinistra's hands."

Harry burst out laughing as he did whenever the twins came up with a good prank, " You're sure right about that!"

" Hey I'm getting hungry, how about getting some lunch?" Neville asked as he spotted his usual restaurant up ahead.

" Sure," Harry answered and was led up the stairs between two shops.

" This restaurant is simply marvellous. It's quiet and has the most excellent wine list." Neville continued in his drabble of reminisce, " I suggest the Rognons de Veau – I know the ingredients may throw you off, but it's really a treat. The Moules de Roches here gets you drunk on the smell alone, but I'm personally not a seafood fan. Some other things like the Pâté and Vichysoisse they do nicely too."

" Yeah, sure." Harry got to the top of the stairs and raised an eyebrow at the dimly-lit restaurant. Harry took one look at the well-dressed waiter, then his own jeans and T-shirt and whispered to Neville, " I don't think we can get in without a tie."

" Wizards don't usually wear ties," Neville pointed out and turned back to the young waiter who spotted him. " Neumann, good afternoon. My usual table. For two."

" Certainly Mr Longbottom. Please, right this way." They followed the waiter and sat down at one of the booths with a little roof on top, a Bluebell Flame floating below it a bit above their heads.

Neville flicked his napkin to the side and placed it on his lap. Turning back to Harry, who was quickly doing the same, Neville asked, " Have you got your school things yet? We can go to Flourish and Blotts after this to get your books."

" Ah, no it's fine. Don't you need to go back to your shop? You sound pretty busy these days." Harry reminded as he scanned the rooms with his green eyes.

" Yeah, it's the weekend. Kids on weekends." Neville involuntarily made a frown. " One time, some random nine year-old set off a Dungbomb in the middle of the shop. Seriously, do parents have to keep them on a leash?"

Neville talked to Harry a bit about professional Quidditch, a field of knowledge he was forced to learn a little for his social networking, and then went on a bit about Gringotts. As much as he wanted Harry to come up with a great idea about how to rob it, it turned into a financial lesson for Harry about his trust fund. After all, wizards invested as well, some even in the Muggle stock markets. The kid really needs to know these things. As much as being an Aurora pays, why start making money later when he can do so now?

As the two Gryffindors walked back to the Hoglake Shop after lunch, Neville talking about the line of work owls at his window every morning, having been led from Harry's topic about letters from abroad, they saw a familiar Slytherin exiting The Hoglake Shop.

" Potter? What are you of all people doing here?" Draco spotted them and asked with a raised eyebrow.

" Why can't I be here Malfoy?" Harry immediately returned a glare.

" With Black out and about, I thought you'd be cowering under your bed!" Malfoy smirked back.

" Cower? I haven't seen you face Voldemort twice, or even once in your life." Harry's mention of the name made Draco shudder, " You can't even say his name."

" As much as I enjoy watching this little tennis game of boyish taunts being exchanged, Wimbledon is always on TV this month." Neville stepped in and turned to Draco, " How are you Draco? Came to share another one of your 'thrilling' quests?"

A good few students from Hogwarts had dropped by Neville's shop during the holidays, but nearly all of them could not recognise Neville's disguise. Draco wandered in one day with his father though and screamed right away, pointing at Neville as if he was a ghost. After much talk about what Neville was doing with his business, to the unappreciated approval of Lucius Malfoy who tried to get in on the pie – blatantly rejected by the way – Draco finally got the whole picture. More than the whole picture in fact since Neville's idea with the Ageing Potions was practically the solution to Draco's 'Nice Guy complex'. Still to fully recover and in absolute denial about Lavender rejecting him, Draco had spent most of the summer mingling around the Muggle bars picking up women – or so he unbelievably retold to Neville on a regular basis. Neville tried to be a good friend and endured Draco's tall tales about girls 'accidentally' dropping an olive down their cleavage or a pair of sisters fighting over his attention.

Overlooking the fact that he said he got pick-up tips from FHM, Maxim and Wizard Weekly, and his abysmal record in seducing Lavender, the thought of Draco going into the Muggle world on his own like me is quite impossible.

" Actually no," Draco cleared his throat. " Last night I went to a Muggle bar, struck up a conversation with some random blonde, and then I realised it."

" That you were dreaming?" Harry rolled his eyes. " You can't just wander into a Muggle bar and pick up girls. How old do you think you are?"

" As old as an Ageing Potion makes me you idiot," Draco snorted.

" Oh…" Harry lost this one fair and square, remembering the shocking meeting with disguised Neville again last night. " I guess…"

" It's possible, but you know as well as I do Draco will never do such a thing. Wandering around in the Muggle world on his own? Yeah right." Neville whispered to Harry.

" Anyway, as I was saying," Draco rolled his eyes condescendingly and turned back to Neville. " So she was saying all this rubbish about those Muggle machines called cars and I thought – who would care about such large heaps of metal when there were broomsticks? A Firebolt can out-fly any BMW any day – not to mention cars can't fly."

" The point is?" Neville tried not to let this friend down but urged him on whatever message he was trying to get across this time.

Draco took a deep breath and said, " I think I'm ready to go down Rose Lane, Neville."

Harry of course just stood there like a brick but Neville was close to his knees. Neville growled, " Oh no you're not. That's not some place you can go on your own young man."

" Young man?" Harry's incredulous gasp was quickly drowned out by Draco's protest.

" Rose Lane is the exact place young men go! Neville, I can't stand Muggle girls anymore! I need to see how well I've gotten in this 'game' with a witch." Draco added before Neville could argue about his discriminating attitude, " And I won't be going alone – cause you're coming with me."

" Nice shot, but no. I don't go down that way." Neville stated as he swept back Dracula's Cloak as if that was finality. " And you won't either, or else I'm calling your father."

" Come off it Neville, you're my friend – not my friend's parents!" Draco sighed exasperatedly.

" Where is this Rose Lane place?" Harry chose that moment to ask and from Draco's twitch of his lips, Neville knew there was impending trouble.

" Ah yes… Potter, you've never been down that side before, have you?" Draco took a step closer to him and continued to say in a smooth voice, " But you must know about Knockturn Alley right? At the very end of it, just a small turn down the right, that would be Rose Lane."

" This is about the Dark Arts isn't it?" Harry gave Neville a reproachful glance.

" Not really. If you must describe it with a colour, I would say pink more than dark." Draco actually threw his arm over Harry's shoulder to Harry's apprehension and Neville's dismay. " Don't tell me you're scared of the place just because you have to walk past Knockturn Alley to get there."

" Yeah right Malfoy!" Harry shoved his arm off and was already two steps down that direction, " Let's go to this place you were talking about."

" Harry. They won't let you in." Neville was shut out by Draco though as the blonde boy sneakily threw Neville a backward glance, strutting up to Harry as if he was a new best friend.

" Listen Potter, you need to at least look the part to get in that place. I have a few spare Ageing Potions…" Draco's shifty smile finally woke Harry from his rash Gryffindor temper though, thanked to Neville's silent gestures of negativity behind Draco's back.

" Actually Malfoy… I won't fall into your trap. This must be a trap, isn't it?" Harry asked dubiously.

" Trap? God no! Scared Potter?" Draco tried the same trick again, but it would not work twice.

" I won't fall for it Malfoy. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some books to get for school…" Even as Harry was saying those words, he felt incredibly childish just hearing himself. Neville thought so too, but of course kept silent.

" Don't forget to go the bank and talk about your investments," Neville tried to encourage his innocent friend to do the right thing.

" Hey, I'll go with you Potter!" Neville cursed his big mouth as Draco immediately jumped to volunteer. Also, at Neville's words, Harry's face surfaced a doubtful expression as if considering whether listening to either of these two was a good idea. Draco waved his hand and shooed, " Don't you have to go back into your shop Neville? They said you've been gone for a long time. I'll take care of Potter, no worries!"

" You? Who can't even stand being in the same castle as him?" Neville frowned and asked Harry, " Harry, why don't you do your shopping and business tomorrow? I think I can free up some time but we do have a month before school starts again."

" Thanks Neville, but I think I can handle this on my own." Harry's sentence finally woke Neville up to what he had unknowingly done again. I had subtly made this into a challenge haven't I? I made what Draco suggested, with Rose Lane and everything, sound like an adventure while what I suggested was a safe, childish, and wimp-ish way out! It's as good as daring a boy to do something!

" I must say Potter, I have quite some experience observing my father with his investments and I'm sure I can give you some advice," Draco could not help but laugh as Harry fell for his bait with Neville's unconscious help. Draco also knew his wingman for the evening was not solely going to be Harry and shouted back as he led the somehow disgruntled Harry towards Gringotts, " Oh and Neville. If you plan to join us this evening, we'll be meeting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour at nine."

" Nine?" Harry asked, the good boy that he was. " Tomorrow?"

" No. Nine – P – M, Potter!"

" Oh… Right…"

As much as Neville was astounded by Draco's intentions of spending almost the whole day with Harry on his own accord, and the two of them looked to be able to interact without throwing curses at each other, Neville really had a slight hope that one of them would be knocked out before nine o'clock arrived.

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A/N: I'm releasing this early cause my updates have been late for the past weeks and I'm anxious to get some response about the direction this year will go.

Once again, I think I've stopped at an awkward place. This year will seem to progress slower because a lot of things will be going on with many different characters. I'm also going to be stepping away from the main storyline and that would take words to explain and etc. You'll see, I hope.