Harry could only relax when Blackie showed up, his thin arms gathering the quite large dog into a hug.

"Where are you three headed?" Ceija asked, smirking, "When you're not being held by the shanglo, that is?"

"London," Draco Malfoy said, and Harry knew that he'd have said more, if he wasn't feeling so ... ill-equipped to deal with the Indian-shaded lass. Poor dear, Harry thought, he's terrified of breaking the Statute. Or, more probably, of looking like a complete idiot.

"Well, as it happens, we're headed to Rome," Ceija said, not seeming to care a whit that they'd named such a faraway place. "So, London's on our way. Care for a ride?"

"Much obliged, actually," Draco Malfoy said, with a shy smile that went better with his white dress than it did with his normal personality.

"We'd better get back, before Ma calls the Rom on me..." Ceija said, standing up and stretching.

Harry blinked, tugging at Ceija's sleeve, "You're... Romany, right?"

Ceija smiled, nearly bashfully, "Got it in one." She darted forward, before looking back with a smile, "You are coming, right?"

"Sure," Harry said, and Draco nodded. Ceija darted more than ran, twisting from one bit of cover to the next, dashing from one hedgerow to another.

Harry and Draco loped behind her, that steady, easygoing jog that Blackie could keep up with. "What's a Romany?" Draco Malfoy asked.

Shite, Harry thought. Malfoy knows so little about everything. Harry responded as quietly as he could, trying not to be overheard, "Nomadic people, constantly moving. Thought by many to be thieves and liars."

Draco Malfoy hmmmed, "She certainly rescued us, didn't she?"

"With a bomb," Harry Potter agreed.

"Yes!" Draco Malfoy said excited, "What was that?"

Harry Potter wanted to curse. When, exactly had it become a good idea to teach Draco Malfoy about muggle weapons...? Not that Harry exactly expected him to do a Guy Fawkes, but still... It was one thing to introduce a wizard to electricity, to cars, to all the minutiae of Modern Living...

It was quite another to explain to Draco Malfoy how bombs work.

That is, if Harry even could.

"Picture a powder, that if you drop a match on, will explode?" Harry said, somewhat uncertain.

"Okay..." Draco Malfoy said, seeming to consider Harry's words with a care that Harry wasn't used to - not from anyone. Then again, he wasn't used to teaching, either. Maybe this was why Malfoy got better grades than he did.

"Well, if you form that powder into a cake - a block of it, and add a string, you can light the string, and it will take some time for the fire to reach the cake." Harry said, starting to feel a bit proud of his explanation.

"And that's why she threw it so fast?" Draco Malfoy asked.

"Yup," Harry said, Blackie running beside them, his tail wagging.

"What kind of powder was it? I wasn't aware of any non-" Draco Malfoy paused, "YouKnow, powders that could do that."

Harry shrugged, "Not sure. Bet you could ask her though."

Draco Malfoy jumped over a low slung log, and nodded. "Probably better I do," he said consideringly, "I have to understand it all sometime, right?"

Harry Potter paused, thinking it over. "I'm not sure I understand everything, truth be told."

Draco Malfoy eyed him warily, and Harry could see Malfoy's thought plain as day, why did I choose this idiot?

It was a good question, though!

[a/n: That last line's harry's thought. Leave a review?]