They spent the next several days collecting books from several of the places around the world. Harry's question had been answered over the course of the past few days. The Wizarding world was interrelated with everything that was going on, and Voldemort had been widespread. He had also discovered another thing; there was one central Ministry of Magic, and it was located in Switzerland.

Harry found that to be ironic, as the very country was neutral in the muggle world. He wondered if it was the wizard's influence that allowed the muggles to be an indifferent, powerful and rich country compared to the rest of the world.

They had managed to find all the possible bookstores and libraries listed. Surprisingly, there had been textbooks on Necromancy in a muggle university in Canada. He really didn't want to know how they had managed to get their hands on them.

After breakfast the next day, Harry found Hedwig perched on the bed, holding a letter from Malfoy.

"About time," said Harry, grinning at his owl. He frowned at the letter, then picked it up, broke the seal and began reading.

Potter,

Thanks to the Daily Prophet, I've had a time trying to convince them. Money was one of the easiest ways to get them to hand over the books. I've also enclosed some letters from people wishing to communicate with you, indirectly of course; you understand. I've only managed to convince two-thirds of my contacts, as well as my parent's associates. A third are refusing to even sell the books. Not for any amount of money. They've said that they're interested in knowledge, more so than any sum of galleons you would be offering.

Anyway, as to where to have our meeting, I suggest Madame Puddifoot's.(Harry's face twisted into an incredulous stare at the location.) I know, I know, odd place to… meet. But honestly, would anyone even suspect that we would go there to hold a conversation? Plus it is not any time near bloody Valentine's day. So, we should come around noon to avoid the crowd at night for the couples. I'm sure you understand this reasoning, Potter. If not, well, where else do you suggest? Hogwarts? Don't make me laugh, I am never going back there, even with that headmaster gone. (Here, Harry sighed, annoyed by the tone Malfoy was using.) Now, I suggest we meet on August thirty-first at noon. Don't forget.

It was unsigned, but it was obvious that it was from Malfoy. Shaking his head, (he didn't want to go to that restaurant,) he looked at the calendar, which pointed to August thirtieth. He looked at the other stack of letters that Malfoy had no doubt passed on from his contacts. Picking up the one on top of the pile, he began to read the somehow familiar scrawl.

Dear Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter,

I don't know what you are thinking. This is ridiculous, though I am interested how much you are willing to pay. Your actions have been thus far, bizarre and hard to explain, especially Mr Potter's. I have no idea what you two are thinking, but allying with each other is most un-likely thing I have ever heard. Now, I have four Necromancy texts in my library and I'm very reluctant when it comes to getting rid of them forever. Don't you know that Necromancy is an art to perfect? If what the Daily Prophet says is true, then Mr. Potter must hav e a lot of money Five million galleons is the only sum that I am will to accept, no less.

Good day

Parkinson

'Pansy Parkinson?' thought Harry, 'So, that's why the writing's familiar…' He used the summoning charm for a quill, ink and parchment; to write a response.

Dear Parkinson,

Five million galleons is fine, send them Malfoy's way while I send you the money.

Potter

No need to draw the response out when he didn't have to. He read the other letters and answered them accordingly. They had all asked for a sum that Harry found no problem paying, though he would have to be careful with money once the ordeal with Necromancy was over. Sighing, he began to wonder how to deal with the people who were not willing to give away the Necromancy knowledge for any amount of money.

'Well, as I've mentioned to Malfoy, I'm going for desperate measures now,' thought Harry grimly. He really did not want to face the prospect of breaking several unnecessary laws—both Ministry and magical— however he was desperate to try any number of things. The faces of the undead parents now haunted him in his sleep, and most of his waking moments. He felt that he was losing control over himself, as he had seen more objects around him recently exploding and burning up in flames. Much more, in fact, than over the course of the past two years.

The last time he lost control like he had a few days previous was during the Final Battle. Before he could think of it further, something interrupted his thoughts.

"Harry?" asked Hermione tentatively.

"Yeah?" replied Harry, getting up from the seat as he carried his responses to Hedwig.

"Were you just replying to the mail from other… people?"

"Yeah, Malfoy said that he managed to convince two-thirds of his contacts plus his parents, and this," he said, pointing to the pile of mail, "Is only a third, I've written about a hundred responses."

"Oh really? Well, I have good news. From traveling around the world, I finally counted all the books and we only have nine-hundred and twenty-three books to go."

Harry's eyes went wide at the new piece of information. "Well, that's great. So, assuming that everyone has an even amount of books, we'd only get six-hundred or so, and the rest…"

"…Will be a challenge. How are you going about to convince the rest?" she asked, biting her bottom lip in thought.

"Well, that's for me to know," said Harry, bundling up the mail and tying it to Hedwig's talons.

"It better be safe and legal, Harry," said Hermione with a stern look. Harry sighed and looked at Hermione pointedly. "Harry…" she grounded out with a warning in her tone. Harry turned back to his white owl.

"Take flight, Hedwig, they're for Malfoy, all right?" Hedwig hooted and took off. Harry watched her leave, but before she could disappear from sight, Hermione cleared her throat. "What?" snapped Harry, looking back at her. Hermione ignored Harry's tone.

"It better not be illegal, Harry, we've done a lot of that already!"

"What makes you think that I'll do anything illegal?" asked Harry coolly. Hermione opened her mouth to retort then closed it, frowning. She began to open her lips again but the words won't come out. She closed them in defeat, eyebrows knitted together. Harry rolled his eyes at her behavior and decided to have some late dinner, leaving the sitting room for kitchen. Hermione followed immediately after. Neither spoke of the topic again.

¾¾¾¾

Harry arrived at the designated restaurant with black cloak and a hood covering his face. Sure, it might be an odd thing to see in such a place but he wasn't about to reveal himself to the public. In the back of the room, he spotted the familiar blonde head that he could recognize anywhere and scoffed. He wasn't hiding himself from the public. What was he trying to do? Call attention from everyone else? As Harry ventured further in, he noticed that there were only two other people and they were next to the windows. There was only one waitress, who also acted as a hostess; currently, she was taking orders from Malfoy.

Harry discreetly sat down in the chair across from Malfoy as she left. Malfoy took noticed of him with a gesture to the drinks on the table. Harry arched an eyebrow at this; he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"It's a friendly gesture, you Sca¾I mean, please do have a drink." He took a sip from his cup. Harry stared at him suspiciously and picked up the cup.

"Don't mind me but¾" He waved his hand over the cup to detect any poison and found that the drink was safe. "Sorry, had to do that, you understand." With that, he took a drink of the wine.

"Now, to business," drawled Malfoy, clearly understanding Harry's motives for being cautious about accepting drinks from the enemy. "I have brought the books upstairs, with the hostess' permission of course."

"Is that wise?" asked Harry, leaning forward on the table as he narrowed his eyes at the waitress.

"No need to worry, Potter," Malfoy said, "she's trustworthy. This restaurant is one of the branches of Malfoy estates."

"So, that's why you insisted on coming here," said Harry, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, of course I did, I wouldn't have chosen this place if it weren't an estate of mine," drawled Malfoy, taking another sip. "So, the total amount of people that are demanding money for the tomes you are seeking will have to be," he took a parchment out and slid it over to Harry. He looked at the piece of yellow parchment, scanning over the costs for each associate, then he saw the total amount of money and nodded; it had come to seventy million galleons in all. Harry did a quick math in his head and Harry watched her leave, but before she could disappear from sight, Hermione cleared her throat.

He knew he had about quarter billion galleons left in his vault, plus investments and all other things.

"All right, how are you sending them out?" asked Harry, leaning forward again.

"Surely, you must understand our customs in giving large amount of money. How else are you going to send the money? Carrying the entire vault in your endless pouch? I surely hope not," said Malfoy, arching an eyebrow.

"I am only just wondering which way I can pay, Malfoy. There are several ways, you know," said Harry coolly, glaring at him for underestimating his knowledge about the wizarding world.

"Yes, yes," he said, waving his hand at Harry mindlessly. "Now, you can just use the parchment to hand over the money and I'll distribute it to the right people."

Harry wrote the amount of money on the special piece of parchment that was made for Gringotts to accept. It was one of the newer methods of paying in the Wizarding world, and rather old in the muggle world if you counted how many months it had been in use. Still, the wizarding type was much safer than the checks that muggles used, and more authentic. After signing his name, he slid the paper over to Malfoy, who nodded as he pocketed the paper.

"Now, to deal with the people who are refusing to cooperate," said Harry, leaning back into his chair, steepling his fingers. He had to admit, some bit of Albus, the late Headmaster, his habits had rubbed off him. "Do you have the list of the people?"

"Yes I do, Potter, of course I brought the list." He took out another piece of parchment and handed to Harry. He scanned the list and found that there were around a hundred and twenty homes to visit. He sighed and looked at Malfoy, contemplating whether or not to involve him in his plans of 'desperate measures'. Reaching his decision, he leaned forward with both palms on the table and elbows bent.

"All right, Malfoy," began Harry, glancing at the people in the building, then looking back at Malfoy. "I have one last thing for you to do." Malfoy looked skeptical and leaned forward to listen better as Harry used his low voice. He arched his eyebrow, waiting for Harry to continue, who hesitated slightly.

"It's time to visit them in person, and if they don't cooperate…" He swallowed tightly. "We're going to raid the house later."

'We're? No, Potter, don't involve me in that sort of plan!" said Malfoy scathingly. "I'm not going to¾just¾barge right in and steal the tomes! Who's with us, then?"

"Just you and me, no one else knows and I want to keep it that way," said Harry, narrowing his eyes, challenging him to back from the 'request'. "The security part of the house, I can deal "Yes I do, Potter, of course I brought the list," he took out another piece of parchment and handed to Harry. How many houses on there, do you know?" he asked, pointing to the list of un-cooperative people. Malfoy scanned the list quickly and answered.

"Eighty-five or so," he replied.

"Not bad," said Harry, nodding. "It's very good actually," he corrected. "Since a lot of houses have children being sent to school tomorrow, we should take advantage sometime during the day after tomorrow."

"Why, why not tomorrow after the train leaves?"

Harry tilted his head, thinking and nodded. "Yeah, tomorrow, around noon. The sooner the better. It will be great if we can get all this finished before the weekend arrives."

"Unlikely, but a good goal to aim for," drawled Malfoy.

"Where do we begin?" asked Harry. Malfoy skimmed the list again, using his finger and stopped at a name.

"We'll meet in Knockturn Alley at noon in Urn-Eye's," said Malfoy. "There's two apartments near there that we will visit."

Harry nodded and stared at him pointedly.

"Ah, of course, the books, come Potter." With that, the two went to a hidden stairway and went upstairs. When Harry entered the room, he stopped in his tracks, eyes wide at the number of books piled around in the room.

"H-how many¾?"

"Six hundred and eighty-nine books," answered Malfoy in a bored tone. "Need help getting them back to¾wherever you go to?"

"No, I'll just take it from here¾er¾" He realized how hard it was to actually say 'thanks' to the archenemy. "Well, take care," he said, waving his wand at the books and transporting them back to Grimmauld place. It was something that Hermione had learned two days previous, making the trips much easier to go through. Malfoy stared at him, eyebrow arched in interest.

"Something that Hermione learned a few days ago," explained Harry. "It was exhausting traveling all over the Americas, you know."

"Really, what were the Americas like?"

"Obnoxious," replied Harry bitterly. "Honestly, they really don't have much tact, worse than Creevy was."

"I thought he couldn't be worse," said Malfoy in surprise. "Creevy doesn't have much tact at all. Is that even possible, in the Americas?"

"Especially the United States, I never met such… atrocious people before I went there. Merlin forbid, there were some people worse than you."

Malfoy chuckled at this and shook his head. "Am I so bad?"

"Yes, Malfoy. Taking care of your looks constantly, the way you carry yourself. How you acted with the women, need I go on?" said Harry, then wondered why he was lingering here. Harry shook his head, saying, "Never mind, I need to get back, good day."

"Good day to you, Potter," said Malfoy, nodding. With that, Harry disapparated to Grimmauld's place. He found that Hermione was staring, awestruck at the amount of books Harry had sent.

"Did Malfoy really collect all of these?"

"Yeah, I was surprised too, I had thought there were less," said Harry.

"Six hundred and eighty-nine!" exclaimed Hermione, grinning. Harry smiled back, wondering at what was going on with the, dare he say it, growing friendship between him and Malfoy.

Shaking his head, he said, "I'm tired Hermione, I'm going to take a nap."

'Yeah, that was it, I'm tired,' thought Harry, trudging to his room, using that explanation for his bizarre conversation with Malfoy today.

¾¾¾¾¾

Malfoy and Harry knocked on the apartment's door, waiting for someone to answer their call. Moments later, the door opened a notch, eyes peering out cautiously. The person realized who was at the door, their eyes hardening on them. Harry was prepared for the person to slam the door in their faces. Instead, the door opened up and let the two boys in. Harry tentatively entered the apartment, following Malfoy. He barely got to look at the surroundings before he realized it was a lady that had answered the door.

"Are you two here about the Necromancy texts?" she asked coolly.

"Yes ma'am," replied Harry. "Any particular reason why you are willing to keep the books?"

"Because they're a family heirloom," she responded without pause. "They've been passed down from generation to generation. On top of that, destroying any knowledge is dangerous and unthinkable. No matter what good it will be for."

"Well, I understand that it's hard to get rid of a family heirloom, I know I would keep any that belonged to my ancestors. Just what type of ancestors do you have?" asked Harry.

"If you mean to ask what type we usually practice, is Necromancy. Of course, I haven't been able to practice it, far too much magical draining." She then paused, frowning. "I don't have anyone to pass the tome on to, though… I have no family members left and I'm the last of my line," she said sadly. She walked over to the bookcase and pulled out a book, stroking it sadly. "My husband was taken in the first rise of You-Know-Who, then my children…" She paused, her eyes glistening. "They were taken in the second rise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

She turned to Harry, her voice strong and face stern. "Please, tell me how he was defeated. I may be able to hand over the tome for the knowledge of how you defeated Him."

Harry sighed. It was either tell her and get the book or not tell her and steal later. He would feel bad if he did the latter one. Harry nodded and walked over to the sofa. She followed, her wand waving to summon teacups and a pot of tea. Moments later, they each had their own cup of steaming hot tea. Harry began to tell her the tale that he had told to Hermione and Ron.

In the end of Harry's story, the lady nodded, smiling.

"I don't see why you are stubborn in keeping this to yourself. It was very hardy of you to destroy the last of your parents' ashes. But," she paused, "in a way, I do understand why."

Harry tilted his head down, staring at his feet, wondering how he was supposed to say something to that.

"Don't be ashamed, Mr. Potter," she said, face stern again. "For your tale, here is the tome. However, I do not believe it is a worthy cause for destroying Necromancy. They can be used for the good, you know."

Harry looked up, incredulous at what she was saying, "How¾?"

"It can help the fight against the dark, such as the Death Eaters and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and various other things as well," she explained. Harry shook his head.

"I fail to see how Necromancy could be used for the good," said Harry and she sighed.

"Well, they could be used to clean the house…"

"Don't you get it," interrupted Harry. "They're all for selfish uses. Once people are dead, they're dead for good. End of story, full stop. Using the deceased for selfish ends is disrespecting the dead; they are trying to have their eternal, peaceful sleep."

The three fell into silence. She stared at him in shock, as though she never seen him before. She looked at her book, frowning in thought. She sighed and relinquished the book to Harry with great reluctance.

"I'm sorry, I never realized it. The way you worded the words…" she shook her head. "Please take the book, it really is a selfish branch of magic." Harry accepted the book wordlessly and nodded.

"Thank you, Ms…?"

"Ah, you never knew my name. It would be Ms. Ostermoor," she said, formally introducing herself.

"Thank you, Ms. Ostermoor," said Harry, the three getting up from the sofa. She led them to the front door.

"I'm sorry to intrude like we had…" said Harry but she waved him off.

"Don't bother, I understand your reasons. I'm sure that even the Ministry of Magic wouldn't have tried to Necromancy if you had left it in their hands."

"Thank you, have a good day, Ms. Ostermoor," said Harry, leaving the apartment. She closed the door as Malfoy led Harry up the stairs.

"The other person that lives here is two floors up," said Malfoy, climbing up the stairs. Harry dreaded meeting any more people and wondered if he would have to tell them what happened in the fight with Voldemort again. He realized that he was glad that he hadn't told the world yet.

'If I had told everyone what happened, people may not have listened to me as Ms. Ostermoor had… Well, I suppose when all of this is over, I'll have an interview with a reporter. It's better than having rumors flying all over the place,' thought Harry, arriving at the destination. He knew that Ms. Ostermoor wouldn't pass on what happened, there was too much emotion involved. Malfoy took the opportunity to knock on the door as Harry stared at the doorknob. The door creaked open slowly then slammed open. "Draco! What's going¾Potter!" exclaimed Theodore Nott. Harry stared at the boy's face, which had gotten pale since the last time they met. "This isn't about¾" he began.

"It is, and you're giving the book," said Malfoy, "to us."

"Why should I? They were my father's books!" Harry sighed in annoyance. Before Harry could do anything, Malfoy stunned him, surprising Harry to no end.

"Wha¾"

"I had to do that, Theodore got a bit loony over the summer," explained Malfoy, entering the room. Harry reluctantly followed him in and he went over to the bookshelves. Malfoy took ten books out of the shelves and turned to Harry. "There's one book missing."

"Ah, how do you know?"

"Potter," he drawled as though Harry was stupid.

"Oh right," said Harry, realizing that they may have stayed at each other's houses. Malfoy rolled his eyes and went off into another room to find the missing book. Harry looked through the books that Malfoy had gotten out. Stacking the book he received from Ms. Ostermoor on top of the pile, he waved his wand and sent them to Hermione's room.

They had decided that Harry could send the books to Hermione's room throughout the day so she could keep count of the books. Malfoy came back out with a book in hand, smirking.

"Theodore's gotten predictable, he hid this between the mattresses. As if I wouldn't find it there… ah, I see you sent the books already?"

"Yes, Malfoy," replied Harry, waving his wand again, the book in Malfoy's hand vanishing. "Where's next?"

¾¾¾

Evening rolled around as both Harry and Malfoy traveled from house to house, convincing quite a number of families to hand over the books to Harry. However, some of the houses were refusing to hand over their books, but they had been written on a piece of parchment. They would be revisited later. Harry finally decided that Malfoy could come to Grimmauld's place. He still didn't trust him, though he wasn't nearly as bad as he had once thought that he was. They've had the most bizarre of conversations such as the likes of quills, inks, and Merlin forbid flobberworms.

"I mean, really, he should have taught us better than that. Flobberworms, come on, who is taking care of that now?"

"I know, but that's Hagrid for you. At least they don't poison you. Or burn your fingers, bite them or break your bones," said Harry coolly, remembering the Hippogriff's incident.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry about that one time with that hippogriff!" exclaimed Malfoy, raising both of his hands up. Harry wondered why he was apologizing now; it was baffling to even think about it. "I mean, I know I shouldn't have insulted the ruddy bird but really, seeing that you flew with him…"

"I fail to see your explanation as to why you are apologizing," said Harry.

"Well, let's see, who just beat You-Know-Who?" asked Malfoy, sarcastically. "Of course, I would want to apologize so I can be on your better side. Honestly, which part of you is more dominant? Gryffin-dork or Slytherin?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders in answer, walking into the Leaky Cauldron for a quick, late dinner. "I don't know, the hat did want me in Slytherin. It was only you and Voldemort that prevented me from going in there."

"What, I stopped you from coming to my house?" asked Malfoy, incredulously.

"That's right. Hey Tom, two butterbeer please," he said, ordering the drinks, then turning back to Malfoy. "Hagrid also told me that more dark wizards and witches had been churned out of there than any other houses. Of course, I know even Gryffindor can have some bad… apples," he said, glaring at the memory of Wormtail.

"Mmm, I wonder how things would have been if you had ended up in Slytherin," said Malfoy as he drank his butterbeer.

"Thank Merlin, that I didn't," said Harry sourly. "Turkey sub sandwich for me," he said to Tom, who was waiting for their orders.

"Lasagna," said Malfoy, then turned to Harry. "But Slytherin's not all that bad," he argued.

"That's what you say," said Harry. "Plus, Snape hates me, more than ever."

"Well, I am sure he wouldn't have if you had ended up in Slytherin."

"No, the reason he hates me is because I'm the spitting image of my father," said Harry, drinking another sip of his butterbeer.

"Really, so the stories were true?" asked Malfoy, arching both eyebrows in curiosity.

"What stories?"

"The fact that you were an arrogant, attention-seeking little prat like your father?"

"No, oh no, Merlin no," said Harry, shaking his head. "I mean, that's what my father was, but, am I attention-seeking kid? Have I ever tried to keep in touch with any of the reporters of the bloody Daily Prophet? Am I even arrogant?"

"Point taken. You seem too humble for your own good," he replied, accepting his plate of lasagna as Harry picked up his sandwich.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Malfoy didn't answer him. The pair ate in silence, thinking about their archenemy. "So, what made Nott go… loony in the head?" asked Harry, striking a conversation.

"Well, the fact that you killed his father in the last second battle. He wanted revenge for awhile but gave up. I think he almost wanted to have his revenge again today," said Malfoy, thinking. "Plus, he lost all of his family members to you and your ruddy Order."

"Well, it's not our fault that they went against us," said Harry defensively.

"I'm not saying that it was your fault. It was war, people die," said Malfoy, finishing his late dinner. Malfoy took the list of people out and counted. "So, we have three houses that didn't answer our calls, fifteen houses refusing to hand over the books, and the rest have been convinced…"

"So, eighteen in all?"

"Yeah, but I don't think we should raid the houses that haven't answered the door," said Malfoy.

"What if there is no one home for a year?"

"… Oh all right," said Malfoy sourly, frowning. "Can we do this tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, I'm tired as it is," agreed Harry. The pair paid for their dinner and left the Leaky Cauldron. "Well, you could come to our place if you wish," said Harry.

"Why would you want to?" asked Malfoy incredulously. Harry shrugged in answer.

"So you know where to send the books to when we… ah, raid."

"Point taken, and you'll teach me the spell?"

"Of course, but you'll have to have Hermione teach you, it's rather complicated," explained Harry.

Malfoy frowned. "Why does she have to teach me?"

"Believe me, it's tricky at first, but once you have it down, its easy," said Harry. "Anyway, we don't have a secret keeper at our place anymore so you can just say the destination." He took a handful of floo powder, saying, "Twelve, Grimmauld's place!" He disappeared into the green flames and was sent into a whirling ride of passing through many grates and fireplaces. The only reason he was using this type of transport was so that Malfoy could follow as well.

He crashed into the ground-level sitting room and winced as he had bumped into a coffee table.

"Oh Harry, you're back," said Molly, greeting him happily. "How's..?" She screamed before she had a chance to say anything else, as someone else had just arrived.

"Molly, I invited him, don't worry," said Harry tiredly. "I just need him to show where to send the books and to have Hermione teach him something. Now, if you'll excuse us," said Harry, going up the stairs to where Hermione's room was located. Malfoy wordlessly followed, observing the surroundings.

"Didn't this house belonged to the Blacks?" asked Malfoy. Harry gave a grunt which sounded like a positive answer.

"I thought so… I've seen pictures when my mother was young. The house elves' heads are missing," he commented.

"That's because we got rid of them," said Harry sourly. He entered Hermione's room, followed by Malfoy. "Hey Hermione."

"Hey Harry¾Malfoy! Harry!" exclaimed Hermione.

"I brought him here so he'd know where to send the books while we … do something. Anyway, can you teach him the spell?" asked Harry politely. Hermione looked reluctant as she stared at Malfoy and nodded cautiously.

"Hey, I don't like this any more than you do, Granger," said Malfoy defensively.

Kudos to LuciusAndSnapeRock for beta'ing this chapter! Please read and review, they are one of the greatest thing an author can hope to recieve.