CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

[Spirts]

HARRY

"Don't be a bloody pansy."

"I"m not! I'm following you, see?"

"You're trembling."

"I am not!"

Draco rolled his eyes at him, continuing down the dungeon corridor. Everyone else, except a few stray first and second years, was gone on the first Hogsmeade trip of the year so they were free to roam the halls together without suspicion. Somewhat at least. Harry couldn't help but feel something was going to get terribly wrong. And with Draco's plan, it probably would.

"Where's your so-called Gryffindor courage now?"

"It's not courage it's just plain stupid! I'm not sneaking into a teacher's office, let alone it be Snapes! That's mad!

"You didn't seem so ill inclined last year."

Harry's stomach turned at the memory. "That was different! Umbridge was useless, Snape isn't! He probably was dozens of protection all over the place for the perfect moment to give me detention for the rest of my short-life!"

"And you forget," Draco drawled, "that I am his godson and can bypass such wards."

"There are too many things that can go wrong."

Draco stopped in the middle of the hallway and gave him a 'are you serious' look. "Says the boy who fought a basilisk without seeking proper help beforehand."

"That was different."

"Why? Because it wasn't your life on the line then?"

That shut Harry up. He resigned to stare moodily at him instead. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

"I told you already- he'll be gone for the weekend. He won't even notice it. Trust me on this."

Harry did more than trust him on that. He knew first hand why and where Snape was. He'd had a dream last night of Voldemort calling all his death eaters for a meeting. He'd been anxious about something and Harry doubted it was about getting a frowny-face sticker on his homework. It was likely none of the death eaters were likely to see the light of day for a while. Especially the potions master, as Voldemort had been most insistent on his presence.

And while Harry knew this, he had no idea how Draco did. Unless he was lying about having contact with his parents. The thought made him uneasy as he thought back to the Order's suspicions.

"Fine then. You better be right about this."

"I'm always right."

Harry huffed. Soon they came to a stop of a span of black bricks. Draco touched seemingly random stones in a complicated pattern before stepping back and muttering something under his breath.

Nothing happened.

"Marvelously, really. I'm impressed."

Draco smirked at him from over his shoulder. Harry couldn't believe this was the same boy who hadn't ever sneaked out of his dorm properly a couple months before. It seemed to come to him with ease now.

"Really Potter. How many years have you lived with magic?" He grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled him close then pushing his back against the wall. Harry's heart stopped momentarily before he realized exactly what Draco was doing. There was a good meter in between them but to him, it felt like only centimeters. He honestly didn't know why it startled him so much other than the fact the action was so unlike Draco. If Harry didn't know any better he would say Draco say slightly affected his own actions as well.

Draco had his wand out and was pointing it directly at Harry's face. "Scorcheum Harry Potter."

Harry yelped as the wall behind him gave out. He met rough, hardwood floor behind the wall with his head rather aggressively. Stars exploded in his vision as he looked up to see Draco looking down at him with a helping hand but not without an amused smile at Harry's discomfort.

"Thanks for the warning," Harry groaned, taking the hand. He blinked rapidly to regain his vision as Draco fixed his glasses. "They say multiple injuries to the head can worsen my vision. I can blame you for trying to sabotage the Quidditch team."

Draco snorted. "You can try. Your vision was already atrocious to begin with."

Harry took in the scene around him. It was a gloomy office with bookshelves neatly organized on the walls behind a large, mahogany desk and chair. In front of it was an even larger and ornate fireplace, enough for a grown man to stand inside at full height. Harry tore his vision to Draco as the blonde strolled over to it and grabbed a large bowl of greyish powder off the mantel.

"We aren't here for sight-seeing, hurry up. We don't have all day."

That was true. Harry had to report to the mediwitch at one to make sure he was okay and as of now, it was ten. Draco had remembered an apothecary in France he had visited once and decided it was the best location where neither of them would be noticed or questioned for the dark materials. He refused to tell Harry exactly why that was though. And when someone asked him where he'd obtained the ingredients he would say he'd had a nice long chat with Slughorn, to the man's absolute pleasure, who discreetly gave him the answer he needed while his friends were away in the village. (He'd used his visit in the hospital wing as an excuse not to come with them.) It was a rather rubbish plan with many plotholes but it was the best choice Harry had to coverup his whole… thing with Draco and his condition to the rest of the world. The lies were getting thick but years with the Dursely's taught him how to maneuver himself through them carefully.

Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder then looked up expectantly at the other for the address. He was nervous in making a fool of himself and messing up like he'd done when he was twelve.

"We're going to a muggle town. France's floo network is wired better than the UK seeing as they have a floo station every dozen miles or so. I remember coming here as a kid and the shop not being too far from it."

Harry's brow's furrowed. "Why would it be in a muggle village? And I thought your parents hated

Muggles, why would they willingly got here?"

Draco pointedly looked away. Harry could tell it was a touchy subject. "That doesn't matter. The address is Willow Avenue, Massif Central."

Harry stared at him for a second, wondering about Draco's behavior before deciding it was best not to push it.

Harry decided to go first to avoid embarrassment when he landed. He awkwardly stepped into the fireplace to Draco's amusement and threw the powder. Moments later he was spinning out of control with the roar of the floo echoing in his ears. When it came to a stop Harry was thrown into a small booth lined metal and curtains. He blinked wildly at the sudden flash that accompanied it moments later.

With another roar, Draco appeared right after him. He didn't look nearly at disheveled as Harry did. He cursed the stupid pureblood genes in him that made him so composed at all times.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Draco reached out to touch a blinking, electronic screen in front of them. Harry immediately recognized the small room as a muggle photo booth and grinned at Draco's bewilderment. At Draco's touch, the screen changed again to camera footage of the two of them. There were numbers on the screen counting down.

"Wha-"

Another flash and Draco yelped. Harry threw back his head in laughter. Soon enough there was a loud whirring sound from a slit below and a strip of paper is spit back out at them. Draco scoots back uncomfortably into Harry's chest, clearly frightened. Harry grins.

"It's not going to hurt you, you big baby. It's a photo machine." Harry moved Draco to pick up the line of polaroids to show him. "See?"

Draco lets his shoulders sag back down a little miffed. "Well, this wasn't here last time I came."

"Well, that was years ago. They have to keep up with the times somehow." Harry paid the three sickle fee the machine requested then looked back at the photos. There were three of them. One with just Harry looking like he was ready to barf, the second with Draco suddenly in the frame wearing a smirk of amusement at Harry which he had to have missed, then one more of Draco looking directly at the camera with his hand mid-rise and eyes open like a startled deer. On the back was a timestamp of their location and place the floo network had dropped them off at. "I actually find it kind of brilliant. A lot less noticeable than a huge fireplace…"

"Yes, well. I suppose so. Muggles have the oddest way of being the most ridiculous." He threw open the curtain with distaste. Harry grinned knowing he was just upset at being caught off guard.

Stepping out of the picture booth, Harry was caught off guard. His mouth hung open in awe. All around the small town grey rock broke the blue skyline in craggy peaks. Even in a photograph you would be able to tell it was August, as the range was speckled in oranges and browns. The mountains rose up at it's tallest up north, haloed in the aureate light of the beaming sun. The flat land surrounding them meant all could be seen for miles around if you stood from the top of one of the dozens of waterfalls roaring down the straight cliffs into the river that flowed through the small town below.

Draco touched his shoulder gently to snap him out of it. "Quit you blubbering, Potter. We have places to go. We can sight-see later." Draco tried to make his voice commanding but it was obvious by the way his tone lifted up at the end he was slightly marveled at the sight himself.

"I don't- This is-"

"Yes, I know. I forget just how stunning it was myself as well."

Harry shoved the photos into his pocket and sped after him. The movement caused him to feel a little light-headed and he grabbed ahold of Draco's arm. A couple of bystanders, tourists probably, gave them odd stares. Draco shot him a fearful look.

"Are you…?"

"I'm fine. Just a little dizzy. I… don't like the floo. I should be good."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Positive?"

Harry nodded. He righted himself but stood within an arms distance just in case.

"Come on, the shops not far from here."

Harry found it unlikely that a small town like this was able able to harbor such dark magic as Draco claimed it did. The entire place screamed fairytale to him. The town was what a village becomes with no city planning and a great enthusiasm for architecture. Every building was different, borrowing this and that from another era. It made the place as glorious as Molly Weasley's quilt making skills, every patch unique and as eye-catching as the one before. Cafes and old storefronts caught his eye at every turn. Flocks of pigeons gathered everywhere; their numbers delighted foreigners as they huddled around the birds, and either fed them crumbs of bread or took photographs. It ended all too soon as Draco grabbed his wrist and led him down a small, abandoned alleyway. If he wasn't disappointed he would have said he was impressed Draco still knew the way.

The store was wedged between two taller buildings. It looked squeezed as if the neighbors were closing in. The sign was old, some letters had become illegible in the peeling paint. But the window was clean for the most part and the artifacts on display were clearly antique. Draco lifted his nose upwards in his very aristocratic manner, which Harry had learned was a hard habit the boy had when wanting to intimidate someone, and pushed the creaky door. A bell rang.

It was far longer than it was wide, almost a corridor with shelving spanning both sides. Enough candles to cause a fire hazard lit up the darkened room and Harry had to squint to adjust his eyes to the sudden change. In getting a closer look at the store Harry realized there weren't potion ingredients at all, but ancient-looking books and artifacts that demanded his attention. Harry walks among the tables and examines them more closely: small black hand-sewn dolls, cigarette boxes filled with incense and mirrors encrusted with shells, necklaces made from the teeth of sharks, porcupine fish, inflated and dried. A miniature five-piece steel band, mounted on a slab of driftwood, in which the players are toads. Looking more closely he sees that the toads are real ones that have been stuffed and varnished. His eyes suddenly stop when he comes across the title of a book named 'Dwalk's Guide to Divination and Other Worldly Magicks'. It dawns on Harry that the place was one of those crackpot magic shops for muggles that read your palms and had guides to 'open your third eye'. It was the exact kind of place his Uncle Vernon would rather be caught dead than be caught even looking at.

Draco catches his questioning stare but before he can answer there some kerfuffle and an old gent emerged in tweeds that were of the same era as his wares. He looks surprised to have customers. He wasn't surprised- he didn't make the place exactly super inviting or easy to find

"Hello! What can I help you two fine lads tonight?"

"It's morning," Harry points out.

"Is it?" The man asks genuinely confused. He looks past the two of them to the tinted windows and grimaces.

"My landlord is going to kill me…" He groans under his breath as he slides his hands down his greasy, stubble covered face.

"Actually," Draco cuts in, "There is something you can help us with."

He perks up. "My pleasure! What do you need? A leaf reading? Some essential oils perhaps? I have a rather large collection-"

"No. I think we're good on those. I was thinking more… finer collections?" Draco drawls his words with a careful precision that almost mocks Snape.

"I'm afraid I don't what you mean," the man's desperate smile falters.

There's a rustling from inside Draco's cloak and he searches for something inside his pockets. Harry's eyes widen as he realizes it was his wand. He grabs the blonde's wrist, shooting him a glare to say 'what the fuck do you think you're doing?'

The man's eyes widen. "I- I don't-"

"I'm looking for something for a potion I'm working on."

The pudgy man's eyes look from the wand and back up to Draco. "O-Of course. Follow me, please." He squeaks out. He turns around and for the first time Harry notices the man's foot. Or, the lack of. Where his left foot should have been there was a prosthetic. Draco was staring at it too with a faraway look in his eyes.

"A muggle magic store hiding actually magic? That… kind of genius actually. The Ministry would look right through this." Harry whispers to Draco as they follow to the back of the shop. Draco shrugs.

"I wouldn't go as far as call it a 'front'. The man is a clueless muggle. He has no idea that he has is actually magic."

Harry raises an eyebrow. The Slytherin explains how the of the man's suppliers was a wizard who was using him as a dealer of some sorts against his knowledge. After all, a muggle couldn't get charged for selling dark magic. That didn't stop him from having some sort of suspicion.

"When I was about seven, we took a trip here. I thought it was just a family vacation at first which I found odd since it was a muggle town, but we came here, this shop I mean, and I realized. My father and Aunt had gotten whiff of a muggle dealing with magic and decided to deal with it themselves. I... Well, I was a brat. I didn't want to stay with my mother and followed them. " Draco whispers. He's looking everywhere but at Harry. "Let's just say I saw some things I wish I hadn't. I rationalized to myself for a long time that the man deserved it. I've mostly forgotten about it since then. This place just… brings it up."

Harry wants to reach out and give Draco a hug, but he knows he won't welcome it warmly. There were a million things he wished to tell him at once. He wasn't going to lie, the story disturbed him. The missing foot made sense now. Draco hadn't known better not to think that way though so he shouldn't hold the guilt. If Sirius had taught him anything it was that.

The shopkeeper abruptly stops at a bookcase behind the counter then gives a nervous glance at the two wizards behind him. Harry expects some secret backroom when he moves a certain book like they do in movies. Instead he's greatly disappointed when he moves them all aside to slide the back panel to the side, revealing jars upon jars of pickled animal parts.

"Is this what you mean?"

Draco seemed to quickly recover from his confession when examining the contents inside all the jars. "Almost. We're looking for something a little specific." He lists out all the ingredients that they need and the man sorts through the collection to see what he has. Harry lets Draco make sure all of them were real or not seeing as he was absolutely rubbish with anything potion related himself.

"How much?" Harry asks when they find everything.

"Depends. How much do you got?"

Harry sorts through his pouch full of galleons. He didn't have any muggle currency to pay to the man in. He doubted the man was against a pocket full of gold either. He thought back to when the man was attacked and guilt flooded him. The man didn't deserve that. This job was too dangerous for him, especially with the war.

He handed the entire bag to him and watched as the shopkeeper's eyes lit up. "I- can't accept all of this! This has to be thousands in gold!"

"Take it. Leave the country for a while, okay? Don't come back for a year or two. Close your shop."

The man looked at the bag, to Draco's wand, to Harry again. He seemed at loss for words. Draco watched Harry silently with a softness in his eyes he doesn't think he's seen yet.

"I don't- this is-"

"Please. It's for your own safety."

The shop-keeper looked as if he was about to cry. Suddenly he jumped at Harry with his arms held wide and squashed him in a hug. If Harry's eyes had bulged just a little more he could have rivaled his uncle.

"Thank you. Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me! I've been afraid this entire time-"

"Alright, that's enough." Draco roughly shoved the man away with a rough jab at his shoulder. "He obviously doesn't want you touching him. Really, when was the last time you showered?"

He wasn't deterred by Draco's harsh words. He was beaming at Harry, ignoring the other's existence entirely. The blonde rolled his eyes.

"We should be going."

"Uh, yeah. Promise to do as I say?"

The man nodded enthusiastically. "Wait, what's your name?"

Harry opened his mouth but Draco beat him to it. "That doesn't matter. If anyone, and I mean anyone, asks about us, you don't tell them a thing. Got it?"

"No problem! Not a word from me! Zip! Notta!" The man laughed joyfully.

Draco shook his head at the odd muggle slang. "Ok then…," he grabbed Harry's wrist. "Let's go."

They exited the store with time to spare. They still had a couple hours until Harry's absence would be noticed. Harry's stomach rumbled, causing Draco to stop in the middle of the crowded street.

"Did you eat breakfast?"

"Yep. Cornish pixies. They're pretty tasty."

Draco scowled.

"Of course I ate breakfast. Hermione wouldn't let me up from my seat until I ate at least a plate and half. They've been fawning over me like I'm a child ever since I got out of the hospital wing."

Draco huffed. "And when was that?"

"I don't know. A couple hours maybe? Six, I think. I wake up pretty early of weekends…"

"That was five hours ago. You need to get consistently. Do you feel any nausea?" Draco placed his hand on Harry's forehead, causing him to push him off with a groan.

"You're worse than Ron. I'm fine. Just a little hungry."

Draco looked out on the sea of people and continued walking again. "It's not a curse to have people caring for you. Come on, we're going to get something to eat."

Draco didn't leave any room for discussion. Harry sighed and decided to follow him before he got lost.