Harry awoke late and wasn't surprised to find that Draco wasn't there. The room was humid and lightly scented with a citrus musk. It evidently hadn't been long since Draco had gotten up and showered. Harry decided to follow in his footsteps and took a quick shower. He dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and headed to see what the others were up to.

He was surprised to find Hermione and Draco alone in the kitchen. Draco sat on the counter in a chocolate brown robe listening to Hermione said while she prodded at the fry up. For her part, Hermione seemed rather chirpy that someone was listening to what looked like another of her tiresome lectures. Harry was surprised with Draco's patience until he saw a gleeful look pass over the aristocratic face. He sat back looking smug, waiting for her to pause. "Actually..." was all Harry heard, but he said something that caused Hermione to deflate; appeared more frustrated than insulted.

"They've been at it like that for 20 minutes," Ron assured Draco. "I think they both have Hogwarts, A History memorized. Nerds."

Harry grinned at Ron's shaking head. "At least she's not boring us with it."

Peering back into the kitchen, Ron huffed. "I think he's flirting or something. If he thinks I'm going to let him try and steal my girlfriend..."

"I don't think that's what he's doing," Harry interjected a bit too fast. Ron gave him a quizzical look. "Err... just that, you know, the blood purity thing." He looked at Draco's haughty face; he was taking great joy in Hermione's stammering. Then she said something back and Draco paled. It was her turn to be self-righteous. Draco sneered and hopped off of the counter.

Leaving the kitchen, Draco addressed them as he brushed past. "Gentlemen."

"No tutu?" Ron teased.

Draco flashed an impish grin. "Liked that, did you?" Ron rolled his eyes. Harry blushed. Clearing his throat at Harry's reaction, Draco headed for the sitting room and forced open one of the large, dusty windows that faced the front.

Harry continued to watch Draco as Ron headed to the kitchen and started to crowd plates onto the undersized kitchen table. When Harry looked back, Draco was petting and feeding his eagle owl that had just arrived. On his lap was a velvet pouch and a basket that Harry recognized as the one Draco's mother used to send him treats. Draco glanced over the note, his scowl growing ever more irritated as he read. He pulled a scroll from his pocket and was affixing it to the owl's leg when Harry rushed up. "What is that?"

Draco paused to glare at Harry. "It is what is known in the Wizarding world as a letter. Those of us who are literate often use them to communicate with friends and loved ones who aren't close enough to chat with. Perhaps if you're here a while, I'll teach you more about the art of correspondence."

Taking the scroll from Draco, Harry cracked the seal, ignoring the snark. "What does it say?" he asked, giving Draco a chance to explain anything he might read before he read it.

"Oh, I suppose I'll be teaching you to read as well? Very well then, it's a letter to my mother, it says nothing about you. If I don't send her a letter back then she'll know that something's going on. I wrote it this morning so I wouldn't be in a rush and muck things up. Now, is this moment of invading my privacy over or will you be reading it aloud to your friends?" Draco leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, looking quite surly.

Harry skimmed the letter and it appeared to be nothing but Draco's whinging about wanting to go home. Draco also appeared to be concerned that Peter was going to want more exotic food and he asked for more money and treats to supplement his budget. "More money?"

"Yes, I was going to bribe Granger to let me out. I've been caught," Draco responded, holding his hands up in a faux plea for mercy. "Or... I could be trying to accommodate the fact that there's going to be three more people here and we need additional money for food. Of course, even if you don't stay long, a few extra galleons might help, so either way..." Draco swung his hand out and shrugged. "So there you go. My top-secret note that I worked hard to keep hidden has been confiscated. The dirty truths revealed. Oh whatever shall I --"

"You've made your point." Harry pulled his wand and tapped it to the cracked seal and handed the scroll back to Malfoy.

"Breakfast," Hermione called. She and Ron looked shamefaced at the slightly burned breakfast. Their lips were bright red again and their clothing a bit mussed.

Draco grunted. The flap of wings indicated the owl's leaving and everyone headed to the table for the singed breakfast.

--

After the meal, Hermione set about casting charms to clear away and clean the dishes while spouting off how this was not women's work and hinting that she wasn't the only one who knew cleaning charms. No one really paid much attention, especially not Draco, who was already up and heading towards the sitting room. "Are you listening to me?" she nagged.

"No," Harry admitted. Ron began to snicker but it cut off abruptly. The loss of laughter caught Harry's attention and he looked at them. Hermione's expression was angry and Ron appeared cowed.

"I'll check on how those dishes are going, then." With a hasty retreat, Ron was off towards the kitchen, Hermione trailing behind him.

"I'll be there in a minute," Harry called after them as he headed to the sitting room.

"No hurry!" Hermione called back. An involuntary shudder passed through Harry's body and he quickened his steps towards the sitting room. Even though Draco was in there, and he was still confused about the weird kiss, it was better than standing around awkwardly watching your best friends grope one another.

Upon entering the room, Harry observed that the morning sun lit the gilded spines of the innumerable books lined up on the shelves, some crammed in sideways along the top. Pettigrew still sat stiffly on the floor in front of the dead fire, Draco stood beside his body, his wand drawn and eyes closed in concentration. He looked up when Harry entered. "Come to see some magic?"

"I thought you said you didn't do this before because you had no one to back you up," Harry pointed out, observing Draco was alone. "Weren't you afraid he'd wake up and kill you?" Harry pulled his wand and held it at the ready.

Taking in Harry's stance, Draco nodded. "It was a concern, but then I had to ask myself, 'death or nagging?'"

Grinning, Harry responded, "I stand behind your choice."

Draco's brow perked at the comment and he appeared ready to say something, but then closed his mouth and shook it off. "I'm sure you'd enjoy that," he murmured. Before Harry was able to ask what that meant, Draco's wand swished with a theatrical flourish and he intoned, "Ennervate," followed with, "Imperio." The movements were crisp and graceful. Harry wondered if perhaps Draco wasn't performing them with gratuitous drama. Or perhaps he had just never taken much notice of how Draco moved when casting spells since they were often directed at him.

Pettigrew appeared livid for a split second before his face shaded neutral and slack. He smiled at Harry. "James's son, it's so nice to see you!"

"Stop that." His father's name on Pettigrew's lips angered Harry. "I don't want him to talk to me. At all. Ever."

"I promise I'll turn myself in after this is all over. I'll confess everything I did." Pettigrew said, his voice betraying nervousness.

"Malfoy." Harry glared at Draco who turned away and pocketed his wand. Pettigrew sat on the divan.

Grabbing a book from the shelf, Draco handed it to him to read. "Do you want me to look for... your clues in here or do you want to do that yourself?"

Still feeling adrenaline pumping through his veins from the few words from Pettigrew, Harry wasn't ready for the change of tone from Draco. "We'll do it ourselves. You don't know what we're looking for," Harry spat.

"You could tell me." Draco leaned against one of the bookshelves, observing Harry.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Shouldn't you be in your uniform when you're in here?" Harry jammed his wand into his pocket and met Draco's eyes. The defeated look in Draco's eyes made Harry regret snapping. As he thought about what Draco had Pettigrew say, it occurred to him that it wasn't that inflammatory. The second remark Draco forced Pettigrew to say sounded repentant. His tone softened, "It's not... it would just be hard to explain what we're looking for."

"I wasn't planning on wearing the... thing... all day. I was going to transfigure this when a fire call started." He slid his hand over the sleeve of his robe, fingering the fine fabric.

"You'll have to be wicked fast, you know. Otherwise..."

Draco dropped his hand from the gold embroidery. "I wasn't always in the room when the calls started, so I just thought I'd..." He glanced at Harry and then realization dawned on his face. "You don't want me to help you. You want me to stay in here."

"It's just that..."

"You don't trust me. I get it." The expression on his face showed that he clearly didn't get it, or at least didn't like it. Who would like sitting around in a tutu?

Harry leaned against the armchair. "Maybe you can just stay in your room?"

"Your room?" Draco asked with a churlish tone. "There aren't that many rooms to examine, aren't you going to want to try that one first? It was Snape's room, after all."

"Fair enough, then you can stay in the kitchen while we start there."

"And here I thought you liked me in my little dress, Potty."

Harry cleared his throat. "Don't be weird."

"I'm not the one who goes red each time it's mentioned. You were the one staring at my legs." Draco crossed his arms over his chest and grinned in defiance.

"You were the one who kissed me." Harry shot back.

Draco paled and swallowed. "You didn't stop it."

"Why did you--"

"Why did you hug me?"

Harry shook his head and appealed to the ceiling for answers. "I don't know. I really... don't know. I thought you were upset. I thought you wanted me to."

Draco threw his hands up and held them out at Harry in a gesture to make him see what he meant.

"Just... don't do it again," Harry mumbled after a few quiet moments.

Strutting past him to go to the kitchen, Draco grumbled, "Trust me, I won't."

--

"So what happened when you stayed the night with him?" Ron asked, dumping over a phial of what appeared to be desiccated milky white eyes of some blind, rare fish. The glass broke and a few of the eyes detangled from the clot of veins and roots to roll on the floor and stare up at him.

Harry made a face at Ron who pulled his wand to repair it. "Nothing happened."

"Then explain to me why we should trust him. For all we know, Voldemort was banking on us showing up here and you feeling sorry for Malfoy." Hermione systematically pulled books from the shelf, flipped through them and set them back in place.

"I was just saying that the search might go faster with an extra pair eyes." Harry shrugged and continued to try to force enchantments out of the wardrobe. It appeared that beyond a secret compartment that held boyish treasures of a small tin car, some old Muggle change and gobstones, it was ordinary. He was careful to admit that he did feel sorry for Draco, but that had little to do with Voldemort or Draco for that matter.

Hermione cast a charm so she could float higher to examine the books that were in neat rows to the ceiling. "I don't know, Harry. The thing that's been bothering me since yesterday is that he seemed awfully calm about seeing us here. It was almost as if he expected to be found."

Nodding, Ron continued shaking the phials, looking for lockets or anything that looked out of place. He followed up a visual search with a muttered incantation to force the ingredients to reveal whatever magic it had. "And he hasn't otherwise been... well, he's been a prat, but I thought he'd be attacking us."

Harry shut the doors on the wardrobe and started to examine a desk. "But you saw how he was dressed, you see what's going on here. I told you about him being in the Astronomy Tower that night. He couldn't kill Dumbledore and Dumbledore clearly wanted me to see that. And as I said before, Malfoy was going to give up. I think his behavior is consistent with that. I don't think he wants to do this. I don't think he's a killer."

"So long as he's not the one holding the axe personally, Harry. He would've let Katie die." Ron flopped on the floor, wrapping his arms over his head. "I need a break."

Harry agreed and sat on the floor as well. It did bother him that Draco was reckless with that necklace, but he rationalized that he could've killed Draco in the bathroom. The necklace was wrapped up; Katie touching it was an accident. The plan was ill formed. As Dumbledore pointed out, it didn't seem like Draco was trying. "I just don't think he's having us on. I think he wants to help. But I guess it won't hurt anything to give it a couple of days before letting him in on it."

Joining the two on the floor, Hermione laid back, stacking her bushy hair as a cushion for her head. "I want to believe in him, too. He's well-read, plus he knows how dark minds work, he really would be a big help."

Secretly, Harry believed Hermione just wanted Malfoy along because he listened to her nattering, but she brought up other good points. "Yes, a Slytherin perspective really would help aid the search. Maybe that's what Dumbledore intended?"

Ron snorted. "Bullocks. He trusted Snape and see what trusting Slytherins got him."

"I never trusted Snape," Harry interjected.

"Right, but... you see what I mean?" Ron sat up enough to catch Harry's eye.

Harry got the point; he just didn't like it. "We'll give it a couple of days."

--

Thus far, dinner was silent. The trio had yet to come up with a definitive answer to their dilemma on whether to tell Draco what they were looking for or not, so they couldn't discuss what all they'd looked through or why. There were good points for and against inviting Draco to search with them. The conversation seemed to keep drifting back to the question, as the wait and see attitude wasn't really a resolution. After an hour or so of debate, no clear verdict was ever reached. Now that they were poking at a roasted chicken, no one had much to say either out of frustration, tiredness, and hunger.

"This is good, Malfoy," Harry tried. Draco speared a potato.

"You like roasting things." Ron pointed out.

Draco shrugged, but felt pressured to say something since everyone was watching at him. "It's easy to do. Throw some spices on, shove it in the oven. Read a bit and then it's done."

"How do you get more food?" Hermione asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

Sighing, Draco looked at the ceiling and then down at his food again. "I give the Muggle kids down the street a few quid to go into town for it. Mum sends money. They come over every few days. I told them I have a sick uncle."

She nodded. Ron leaned forward and leered, "Do you answer the door in the dress?"

"No."

"How do you dress when you answer the door?" Harry asked. He'd finished the chicken and the plate was a wasteland of discarded bones.

Draco eyed the plate and then sneered at Harry. "You're awfully concerned about what I wear, Potter."

Harry blushed and looked down at his plate. He covered it with the napkin like murder victim. "I err... was just trying to... make conversation."

Those grey eyes bore into Harry's blushing face; he looked as if he were about to say something devastatingly appalling when they heard the sound of the hearth flaring and Snape's baritone, "Draco!"

Huffing, Draco threw his napkin on the table and pulled his wand. Heading towards the sitting room; his clothing transfigured into the bustling black crinoline maid's uniform. From behind, Harry could see that the fishnet stockings had long, black lines down the back that ended in a Cuban heel. Not that he knew what that was; just that he found it sexy. He was particularly fascinated by the way that Draco's pale skin shone through the black webbing and the way the skirt swayed as Draco strutted away. Once in the room, Draco slammed the door shut.

The trio looked at one another and then at once everyone was on their feet and crowded against the door. "Extendable ears?" asked Harry hopefully.

"Never without, mate." Ron passed them around as Harry sank to his knees to peek through the keyhole.

"You know, this could be private..." said Hermione, looking doubtful as she pressed the listening end to her ear.

"All the more reason to listen in." Ron settled on his knees next to Harry, squinting to peer through the keyhole.

Harry stayed quiet, he was pretty sure this wasn't the nice thing to do, but Draco wasn't stupid. He'd have to know they were spying on him. Why wouldn't they? He'd read Draco's letter to his mom. Through the hole, he saw Peter sitting in an armchair by the fire, but Draco was right in front of it on his knees. His ankles were crossed under his bum and his back was straight as he listened to Snape droning on about his responsibilities.

Snape kept glaring at Pettigrew, remarking about how fellow wizards should treat one another. Harry couldn't tell what the expression on Pettigrew's face was, but he remarked that Snape should have thought about that before turning him into his personal servant. It sounded like a rote discussion that Draco must've heard a thousand times. Snape went on to talk about how crucial a time it was and that everyone needed to stay where they were. Finally he asked Pettigrew to leave while he spoke alone with the boy.

The trio scooted back from the door just before it swung open. Pettigrew strode in, closed the door again and took a seat at the kitchen table. Harry looked at him for a moment. The man appeared natural, if not a bit taciturn. He had to admire the skill that Draco had over controlling other people like that. Reminding himself that it was an evil and horrible thing to do, he crawled back in front of the door and resettled himself to look through the keyhole.

What he saw made his jaw drop and his blood boil. Draco was on his hands and knees, arse up exposing the white lace of his frilly pettipants, and the black garters stretched over his pale flesh, denting it, which was distracting enough. But what shocked Harry was Draco leaning into the fire and Snape's long, sallow green-tinted hand reaching from the fire to slide through the pale, shiny tresses. Draco leaned into the touches like an attention-starved kitten. Harry felt his jaw stiffen and he reached for the doorknob. Having dropped his extendable ear at this outrage, he didn't hear what was being said.

"That conversation is over. What is going on in there?" hissed Harry. Hermione knocked Harry's hand away from the knob as Ron tried to yank Harry back. He looked at Harry with an irritated shock that was tinged with worry.

Ron nodded to Hermione to keep listening if he had to remove Harry from the doorway. Harry pressed his eye to the keyhole again and Draco was back on his knees and glaring at the door. He turned back to the fire trying to look casual as Snape likewise looked towards the door. Draco shook his head and Harry grabbed the end of the dropped ear to listen in again. Ron was still staring at Harry, clocking his movements in case there was another outburst. He looked ready to pull Harry away at the first sign of strangeness.

"...probably those kids I pay to get food. They've started to become obnoxious about doing it, as if we're going to need more supplies just because they show up. Muggles."

"You may need to modify their memories," drawled Snape.

Draco sighed. "I did it once, I'm not sure how often doing that is a good idea. It's not exactly my forte. I don't want to dull their minds any more than being born to Muggles already does."

Snape perked a brow and smirked at Draco. It was rare to see Snape doing anything other than scowling. Harry found it disturbing. "That's considerate of you. Any word from the trio?"

"Alas, they seem to be biding their time." Harry had to hand it to Draco; he could act. He didn't even look towards the door or sound particularly disturbed.

"I left plenty of clues to get them here. I expected better of Granger. Brightest witch of her age, indeed."

The trio looked at one another. That explained why Draco seemed to be expecting them. Did Draco know they were listening to him now? He had to know they would. Maybe he had little choice. "Perhaps they're... busy." Harry couldn't see Draco's expression, but given Snape's response, it had to be wicked.

"Don't be crude, Draco." Snape paused, peering around the room again, looking a bit paranoid. "And Pettigrew hasn't found the present I left for them?"

At this, Draco's facade faltered and he looked down. "Err. No."

"When they show, be sure they get it. I cannot stress this to you enough." Snape eyed Draco who nodded to him. "Yes, sir." Snape reached out from the fire again and he cupped the side of Draco's face to force him to look up at him. "You will see to it that they get it."

Harry restrained his urge to rush in again. The touch was familiar, and so intimate that it made his skin crawl. When Snape's long, knotted thumb brushed over the pink flushed cheek, Harry tore his eyes away feeling quite unsettled. Ron was staring at him a wary, perplexed look.

"Of course, sir."

Harry closed his eyes. Whatever it was that Draco was supposed to give them, he hadn't. He didn't sound pleased to have to do it. In Harry's mind, it said everything. Draco didn't give whatever it was to them because he didn't want to; because he wasn't against the trio. He would've looked victorious, except that the vision of Snape touching Draco was causing an agonizing twisting in his chest. He handed the extendable ear back to Ron.

Hermione and Ron traded looks and then Hermione got up to move to Harry's side. Ron stared doggedly through the keyhole. "Harry... I don't understand what's wrong. Are you angry he kept something from us?"

"No... No. Maybe?" He rubbed at his chest as if that would quell the feeling. Then he raked his hand through his hair and exhaled. "I guess I just wonder why he didn't give it to us. Maybe it's bad?"

She nodded. "Well, it's coming from Snape. We'll let Malfoy explain. I just wonder why you're so..." her voice broke off as Ron hopped away from the door, pocketing the ears. They all took their seats back at the table, doing a poor job of looking as if they'd never left.

Draco threw open the door, looking irritated in spite of being back in his brown robes. He glanced at Pettigrew and the man stood and headed back into the drawing room. "I should probably let him eat, but I think the porker could use a little diet."

"What did Snape want us to have, Malfoy?" Ron barked.

Draco exhaled in a vain attempt to cover his nervousness. Perhaps he wasn't as good an actor close up. Harry wondered how much acting Draco did with Snape and just how far his acting skills went. "It's... well, it's from Snape. I don't know what it does. I've been trying to read up on it, but I can't find anything out about it other than what it obviously is."

"So you were trying to protect us?" asked Hermione. Harry registered her glance at him before she spoke, but he was too busy glowering at Draco wondering exactly what he got up to with Snape.

Draco looked like he was trying to come up with another way to couch that. "Something like that, I suppose. Enemy of my enemy is my friend?"

"Is Snape your enemy?" growled Harry, who stood up and crossed to Draco.

Eyes glittering with spiteful derision, Draco replied, "Not really. Did he look like my enemy?"

"No, you looked quite cozy. Very comfortable with one another." Harry scowled at him. He didn't even know why he was angry with that, but he did know that Draco's mocking and amused tone irked him.

"Oh, we are." Draco crossed his arms and pulled back from Harry's encroachment on his personal space.

"Good for you. What did he want me to have?" Harry held his hand out as if Draco could just produce it.

"This is stupid even for you, Potter. You have no idea what it could be or what it could do. This is something that Snape wants you to have. You remember Snape, don't you? The man who killed your mentor? The Death Eater?"

"I know who he is. He wants me to have something. I'd like to see what it is, Malfoy." Harry crowded Draco again, backing him against the doorframe.

"Harry... as much as I hate to agree with Malfoy..."

"Shut up, Ron," Harry growled, not taking his eyes from Draco's. "Give it to me."

Narrowing his eyes at Harry, Draco's resolve crumbled. "Fine. If you want it, I can't be held responsible for what happens to you." Harry noticed that Draco's hands were shaking and he felt a little guilty for putting him into this position. He was about to take it all back when Draco grabbed his skirt and pulled up the hem. The petticoat crinkled in a low whisper as Draco revealed the long, silver necklace that ended with a locket with the Slytherin "s" on it that had been magically affixed to the garment. Draco used his wand to unbind the enchantment from the chain and shakily handed it to Harry. "I... I don't know what it is... I couldn't open it."

Harry was stunned into silence as he watched the necklace dropping into his hand. A horcrux. Snape wanted him to have a horcrux. Confusion shook him as he gazed at the glittering treasure. Was Snape to be trusted then? Had Dumbledore been right about him? He looked up into Draco's eyes. Draco was still staring at the locket in horror as if he might snatch it back out of fear of what it might do to Harry. "It's... all right, Malfoy. It's... what we were looking for."

Draco blinked at him, his brows furrowed as he shook his head. Ron and Hermione ran up to flank Harry as they stared at the first horcrux found on their journey. "Are you sure it's real?" Ron asked.

Nodding, Harry whispered, "It's real. I can... feel it. It's the one I saw in the Pensieve."

"How do we destroy it?" Hermione asked, reaching out to prod it.

"I destroyed the book with the basilisk fang..." Harry answered, unsure if that's how you destroyed all horcruxes. Not that he had one on him. "I don't suppose anyone has one of those lying about?"

"Snape's..." Draco looked scattered and was still a few thoughts behind everyone. The revelation of Snape's loyalties tripped him up.

"I don't know what side he's on," Harry snapped. "Does that disappoint you? Your boyfriend might be a good guy? That must really shatter your illusions."

"He's... not..." Draco waved his hand at Harry. "Whatever. My part in this is done, obviously. Maybe he's your boyfriend, because he told me nothing about this."

As much as Harry wanted to remember that look of trepidation on Draco's face when he handed over the locket, all that he could envision now was Snape's thumb brushing over Draco's cheek. "Oh, I don't want him. He's all yours, Malfoy."

"What is going on?" Hermione whispered to Harry after Draco had shot down the hall into his room and slammed the door. "You spent all day singing his praises and when he actually proves himself everything you've been claiming all day..." she gestured towards the door where he'd gone.

"He knows Malfoy's disappointed that we didn't explode from touching that thing," Ron assured Hermione.

"He didn't look disappointed," she pointed out. "He looked more worried that it was going to hurt us."

Harry just couldn't explain that it had nothing to do with this great boon they'd just received. He couldn't even explain to himself why Snape touching Draco with such familiarity had keyed him up this much. He savagely hoped that Draco was sobbing, and then hated himself for that thought. "I don't know what to think of all of that. It's just lucky for us that Snape came along. Now we have another piece to destroy and we're that much closer to ending this."

"And now we can leave," said Ron.

"We're not leaving Malfoy here to this!" Hermione gasped. "Besides, if Snape really is helping us, this is the perfect way for him to get information to us."

"Except that Malfoy didn't tell him that we were here." Ron eyed Hermione. "Do you like him or something?"

Hermione looked incredulous. "Who? Malfoy?"

"Yes. A couple of conversations and you're his best friend!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. I just don't think he's the root of all evil. I think he needs help, and I think Snape is trying to help us. It makes sense to stay here. Logical sense. If you weren't so blinded by jealousy, you'd see that."

"I'm not jealous!" Harry shouted. The other two looked at Harry in shock. Ron curled an arm around Hermione and pulled her closer. Harry would've laughed that they were afraid of him had the circumstances were less tense. "Never mind. Hermione's right. We should stay."

"Good," Hermione agreed. Her eyes scanned over Harry carefully, but ultimately dropped.

"I'm tired," said Harry, stretching and forcing out a yawn. He could tell she was curious as to what his outbursts meant, but as he couldn't answer that for himself, he didn't want to try and explain it. Best to play the 'tired' card. "I'll sleep in here, I guess." The couch looked horrible but it was either sleeping with Ron and Hermione or with Draco. Neither option was tolerable at the moment.

"You sure?" Hermione asked. Ron jabbed her lightly in the ribs.

Harry smirked and rolled his eyes. "I don't want another... episode... like last night. That was..."

"Awkward," Hermione finished.

"Well then, goodnight mate," Ron said as he pulled Hermione with him to the bedroom.

"I'll think on how to destroy the horcrux tonight," she said as Ron pulled her into the room.

"Sure you will," Harry mumbled. He looked over row upon row of books in the sitting room. Several of them looked interesting, but none of the titles jumped out at him as being one that would explain to him how to destroy a piece of a soul. Of course, he had a hard time concentrating on the titles because each time the fire crackled; he looked down at the mantle and pictured Snape touching Draco again. He was just about to give up when he heard someone enter the room. He turned to see Malfoy in his pyjamas holding a plain, silver dagger.

"You should've used your wand," said Harry as he turned to confront Draco.

"Yes, because if I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have slit your throat in the night, I'd have waited till you were wide awake and hanging about in the sitting room pretending to be literate." He held the hilt towards Harry. "It's enchanted to cut through anything. It's the only thing I have that I could think that would destroy your... whore crutch."

Harry perked a brow at the slight mispronunciation. "Horcrux." He explained to Draco what the word meant and why they were looking for them. He was placing a lot of trust in Draco now, but if Draco truly were working for Voldemort, he wouldn't be trying to help him destroy pieces of his soul. He certainly wouldn't be trying to protect them from Snape, no matter how misguided the attempt was.

"I'm glad you told me." Draco paused and looked around the room. "This couch really is... pretty bad. And as you said... that's your room anyway... if you're really still angry with me..." he trailed off falling just short of offering to sleep on the couch himself. Harry grinned. Somehow Draco being Draco was more reassuring than anything else right now. He might've looked for a pod if Draco had been magnanimous. "Just stay to your side of the bed."

Nodding solemnly, Harry nudged Draco's arm. "He was touching you."

"Jealous, Potter?" Draco led the way down the hall and crawled into the far end of the bed.

"You wish, Malfoy." Harry slipped into the bathroom and changed into his pyjamas. By the time he came back out, Draco was doing a fair enough impression of someone sleeping that he chose not to bother him. He still had questions about the kiss, but his mind was filled with destroying the horcrux and curiosity about what Draco's relationship with Snape really was. Rolling over on his side, he stared at the pieces of glinting metal on the nightstand until he fell asleep.