Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Not making any money, just having fun.

Note: Thank you, thank you, thank you, Eilonwy! Chapter title taken from the saying: An ounce of preparation is worth a pound of cure.

General Reminder: These are deleted scenes from the story "We Learned the Sea." If you haven't read it, these won't make any sense. You can find that story under my profile page. Also, these scenes weren't actually deleted from the story; they're more like extra scenes. Enjoy!

ooo

Ounces and Pounds

August, End

Harry awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his door. For a moment, he forgot where he was and panicked, reaching for his wand. Just as his hand wrapped around it, the person knocked again. Harry squinted in the darkness and could just make out a thin line of light surrounding the door. He glanced around the room and remembrance flooded through him.

With a sigh, he lowered his arm and said, "Come in."

The door opened slowly, admitting a wider beam of weak light that Harry recognized was coming from a wand. Draco Malfoy appeared after a moment more.

"Good. You're awake."

Harry scowled. "I am now." Then he looked at the window. "Malfoy, it's still dark out."

Draco pushed open the door the rest of the way and Harry saw that he was fully dressed and appeared wide-awake. "Training begins now. Let's go." Then he disappeared, taking the small light with him.

Harry groaned and rolled out of bed, muttering curses at the blond. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and slipped on his trainers, before making his way downstairs.

Draco was waiting by the front door. "Good. Come on." He opened the door and disappeared through it.

Harry yawned and followed.

When they were thirty yards from the house, Draco said, "First thing every morning, we run. I've marked and cleared a three-mile trail through the woods that surround the house. It starts there—" he pointed in the direction they were headed "—and ends over there." Now he pointed to a patch of trees behind him. "You'll be much slower than I am to begin with, but you'll catch up."

"But… we're running? Why?"

"It is necessary that you in the best physical shape possible, Potter."

"Physical shape? You sound like a Muggle," he muttered. "With all their fitness talk."

Draco turned and glared at him. "You must be able to fight continuously, without stopping or needing a break, for as long as possible. To do that, you must be fit. We start with running."

Harry followed Draco in silence to the beginning of the trail, where Draco showed him the sign of the trail: a fluorescent light in the shape of a bug was attached to the tree. Draco tapped the bug and muttered "Lumos." The bug started to glow, and Harry saw that there were bugs on many trees all through the forest, leading in an obvious path.

"When you start, simply tap this light. When you finish, tap the last. It will record your time, which we will use to monitor your progress." Draco looked at Harry. "Those jeans were not the best choice for running."

"I didn't know we'd be running."

"Would you like to change?" Draco asked smugly.

"No."

Draco nodded once. "All right, then. See you at the end." With that, he tapped the first bug and started running. Only then did Harry notice that Draco wore running pants and a t-shirt.

Harry waited until Draco was nearly out of sight before heaving a large sigh and tapping the bug himself.

He'd always thought, though he didn't exercise regularly, that he was in decent physical shape. Very quickly, he realized it wasn't true. Draco soon passed out of his sight, and he huffed and puffed his way along the trail, slowing once to a walk. He was drenched in sweat and had a terrible stitch in his side by the time he finally reached the end of the trail. He tapped the bug and stopped, resting his hands on his knees.

"Don't stop moving," came Draco's voice. Harry ignored him. "Potter, walk around for a few minutes or you'll get a cramp."

Harry muttered another choice curse at Draco under his breath, but did as he said. He looked up to see Draco watching him, looking quite amused.

"Not bad," he finally said, tapping the bug; all the lights went out. The sky, which had been a deep, velvety blue when they left the house, had lightened considerably.

Harry was still breathing hard. "How—how long?"

"Thirty-two minutes. Just over ten minutes per mile. Better than my first run, actually. It would seem Auror training isn't completely worthless after all. You'll get better though."

Harry was too tired to care about Draco's barb. "What… what about… you?"

"Twenty minutes. But I took it easy, as I've been locked up for a month. Naturally, I'm a bit rusty."

"I take it… you did this… before…"

"Every day for over a year, yes."

Harry nodded. "Excellent. So, now—back to bed?"

Draco simply stared at him, not quite sure what to say.

"Joking," said Harry quickly. "Honestly, Malfoy. Lighten up a bit, will you?"

Draco started to smile but quickly suppressed it and proceeded to ignore Harry's comment. "As I said, every morning we will run this trail. Then we will begin the magical training."

"What, no weight lifting?" Harry asked, determined to force Draco to crack his frosty demeanor.

"I will begin today by assessing your current abilities, to see where you need improvement. I will check a number of different magical fields, including Legilimancy and Occlumancy."

Harry groaned. "I'm rubbish at Occlumency."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Snape tried to teach me."

"Snape?" Draco repeated, incredulous.

Harry nodded. "Fifth year."

Draco frowned, thinking. Then, "Ah. Remedial potions?"

"Yeah. It was a disaster. And that's putting it nicely."

"Well, nevertheless, you must learn it. Else the Dark Lord will be able to anticipate your moves and know your thoughts."

Harry signed. "If you say so."

"Of course I do."

"What about yesterday? When do we do that again?"

Draco scowled. "That was for a bit of… recreation. I hadn't been on a broom in quite some time. Trying to knock each other off your brooms is hardly something you'll be encountering when fighting the Dark Lord."

"Oh," said Harry quietly. "Right."

"The real training begins today."

Harry sighed and followed Draco back to the house. He would not make Draco crack that day.

ooo

September, Middle

"Time out!" Harry shouted, collapsing to his knees, breathing hard.

"Time out?" repeated Draco, incredulous. "You don't get time out, Potter. The Dark Lord has no patience for weakness like this."

"Then it's… a good thing… for me… you're not… him," Harry gasped out.

Draco frowned. "I don't have a lot of patience for this, either."

"Yes, well, you can't expect me to be at your level in only two weeks!"

"No, I suppose not."

"Merlin, Malfoy. You should train Aurors after all of this is over."

Draco looked at Harry in surprise. "Train Aurors? You can't be serious."

"I am! If all our people had to go through this kind of training, we'd be unstoppable."

"Somehow, I don't see employment with the Ministry of Magic in my future," Draco said with a chuckle.

"Well, why not? After all of this is over—"

"I'm leaving England," Draco interrupted in a firm tone.

"You say that, but it's awfully hard to believe you'd leave your home, everything you know. I quite agree with Hermione's assessment." Harry started to grin. "You need people to feel superior to."

Draco scowled. "That may have been true at one time in my life, but it is true no longer. The idea of starting completely over where no one knows who I am is quite appealing."

Harry shook his head. "Won't last. You are who you are, Malfoy. You won't be able to completely start over. You'll still have to be yourself."

Draco looked uncomfortable and sat down, his back to the cliff wall. He was quiet for a very long time. Finally, he said, "Perhaps. But that is a long time from now."

"But you're Mr. Planner! Surely you've thought about what happens after the end of Voldemort."

"Of course I have. There are a few things that must be done."

"Like telling Hermione the truth."

Again Draco remained silent for a few minutes.

"Yes, of course."

"And the business of getting you pardoned."

"Naturally."

"What else?"

Draco took a deep breath. "Bringing the Grangers back to England, setting them up."

"Oh, right, right. Speaking of them, how are the preparations for tomorrow?"

"Fine, naturally. They'll be in disguise, so Granger won't recognize them. They'll arrive at the restaurant after we do, and I've already given them a listening device. It's a shell that I charmed. Steve gave me the idea—like walkie-talkies, only this one works just one way. I will have the other piece on me."

Harry chuckled.

"What?"

"Nothing… well, I reckon it's funny hearing you talk about Muggle stuff. You know, considering what an enormous git you always were about blood and all that."

Draco set his jaw. "I would think I no longer need to remind you that I do not feel that way anymore."

"No, no need for reminders… it just makes me laugh, is all. Keep going about tomorrow."

Draco shrugged. "I'll try to get Granger to open up a bit, so her parents can hear what's going on in her life. At some point, as we're telling Granger this is a meeting, I'll speak with them. Then we'll leave."

"Her parents asked you to do this?"

"No… I offered."

"You really care about them, don't you?"

"More than anything," Draco said quietly, pulling up a handful of grass. "I wish… that somehow it would be possible to remain in contact with them. After everything, I mean. They're… as close to family as I've ever had."

Harry didn't say anything; there was nothing he could say.

"Break's over," said Draco with a heavy sigh unlike anything Harry had heard from him. They both stood and brushed themselves off. Harry didn't want to keep going, but Draco suddenly had a look of fire in his eyes.

ooo

October, Middle

Draco slammed the door and Harry hurried after him. It was an overcast Saturday morning and they'd just finished lunch with Hermione. Draco went straight to the cliff and with a grunt, told Harry to fly down to the ledge. Harry did; he knew not to antagonize Draco when he was in this mood.

When they reached the ledge, Draco quickly dismounted and set his broom aside.

"Today you'll be learning something new," he said briskly, brandishing his wand but not looking at Harry.

"New?" Harry repeated. In the past month and a half, he'd advanced quickly, which made sense, considering they trained for as long as it was daylight, most every day of the week, and sometimes even in the dark. He'd had to learn Occlumency quickly because Draco was vicious in his attacks. Though, unlike Snape, he gave Harry instruction and advice for actually repelling him, instead of berating him and yelling at him to try harder. Legilimancy came more naturally to Harry.

He'd greatly improved his physical fitness, and he and Draco usually raced in the mornings through the trail in the woods; it was no sure thing as to who would win. For that entire week, they'd worked on deflecting, dispelling, and generally avoiding spells from the enemy. Draco began with a few spells at a time, and gradually increased both the frequency and intensity of the spells he sent at Harry, who had to avoid being hit.

Though it was difficult work, Harry felt invigorated at the end of most days. He felt as though he were doing something that really mattered.

Occasionally, Draco would simply have Harry duel with him. On those days, Harry just wanted to crawl under a rock and never come out. He'd dueled with Draco in the very beginning and was surprised to lose so quickly. And each subsequent time, he'd expected to do better; but each time, it was obvious that Draco had held back in the previous duels.

He thought perhaps, the last time, he'd caught Draco by surprise, but it only seemed to make him angry and the duel was over within a few minutes.

"Yes, new. Wand out; good. You'll be learning the spell to counter the Cruciatus."

"Draco," said Harry warily. "Are you going to actually cast the Cruciatus? At me? That's an illegal curse."

"Really? I so wish someone had told me," he replied sarcastically. "The Cruciatus can be blocked, but it requires extreme concentration. The spell itself is tricky as well."

"Why don't you just talk about it, instead of hurling illegal curses at me."

"Talk?" said Draco with disdain. "Talk about what?"

"Hermione. I mean, I know she can get on your nerves, but—"

"I certainly have no desire to talk about her."

"I know she upset you, Draco."

He scowled and finally lowered his wand.

"There," said Harry, breathing a sigh of relief. A volatile Draco was not something he wanted to face in a duel. "Now, I know Hermione can be difficult. What Ron used to do, when they fought, was to list all of the things he didn't like about Hermione, and then list all of the things he did like about her. You could try it…" Harry trailed off at the look on Draco's face.

"It is no wonder she and Weasley didn't last. He's such an enormous moron—he could never make her happy," Draco said and he instantly regretted it.

Harry's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. "What… are you suggesting that you could do better?"

"No," said Draco calmly. "I am simply suggesting that she can do much better than Weasley."

Harry considered the other man, who was trying very hard to be nonchalant, but was at the same time, pointedly not looking at him while making every effort to appear as though nothing at all were out of the ordinary.

Harry didn't have a lot of evidence for the rapidly growing suspicion taking root in his mind; there had only been the day when Hermione had her second date with Seamus. Harry had noticed the way Draco had cut the ginger stems after she'd gone. Since then, he had been watching for anything, any possible sign of something on Draco's part, but he'd been so closed, so impassive, that Harry hadn't seen anything.

So this… this was interesting. And Harry wasn't going to just let it go.

"Well, Malfoy… are you better?"

Draco glared at Harry and walked to the edge of the ledge and looked down at the water. He hated Harry's question. He'd been raised to believe he was better than Ron Weasley—better than most people, really. And yet at the same time, he felt as though he were the worst person in the entire world. He felt… undeserving of anything good, as though his presence, his very existence, cast a shadow on the world. Steve and Jane had tried—repeatedly—to disabuse him of such thoughts, but they were still there, under the surface, whispering in his ear whenever he felt the slightest bit of happiness.

Was he better than Ron? Yes and no. Mostly no, though it pained him greatly to admit it. But when it came to Hermione…

"At least I can respect that what you call shortcomings in her are actually strong character and conviction. She may anger me, and get under my skin, but it's because she isn't the kind of person who just gives in, or accepts things at face value. She wants to know why, and I can't always tell her why. So we often butt heads. I do not begrudge her wanting to know."

"Merlin's beard!" said Harry, gasping. "You—you fancy her! You really do!"

Draco scowled more deeply than Harry could remember seeing and said, "Now, Potter. About the blocking curse."

Harry readied his wand, but he was still gaping at Draco. "You do!"

"I respect her," said Draco through clenched teeth. "There is a very significant difference."

"You fancy her, and… you're jealous because of Seamus! That's what that spat was at lunch!"

Draco's scowl, if possible, deepened. "You're barking."

"I'm right!"

"Enough!" Draco yelled. "This is not something that merits discussion. There are far more important things than this."

"Just admit to it—"

"I do not fancy her. Are we clear?" Draco's eyes were blazing.

Harry narrowed his. "Are you lying?"

"Merlin, Potter! I answer your query and you don't believe me—what's the point?"

Harry considered Draco. He didn't think he believed him—some little voice in his head told him to trust his instinct—but he also didn't like the look on Draco's face. They'd forged a tentative friendship, and Harry didn't want to push him. Not yet…

"Okay. I believe you."

"Good. Now can we move on?"

"To blocking the Cruciatus," said Harry, once again feeling nervous in the pit of his stomach at the idea of incorrectly blocking the curse.

"Yes. I won't actually aim for you, but you'll still be able to deflect it. I'll aim just to your right—so don't move unnecessarily—and if you cast the spell correctly, the Cruciatus will bounce off the shield that will form around you. And, should one or both of us mess up, you won't actually be hit with the full spell, as I don't truly want to cause you unending and horrific pain."

Harry cracked a smile at that. "Thanks… You know, when the Moody imposter showed us the Unforgivable curses, he never said the Cruciatus couldn't be blocked, but he never said it could, either. Unlike the Killing Curse, which can't be blocked. If there's a way, why didn't they teach us in Auror training?"

"Not very many people know about it. I found it quite by accident in a very old book of my father's. The incantation is non-verbal, so pay very close attention. And don't be discouraged if you aren't successful at first. It's a difficult spell to master."

Harry nodded and Draco began describing the process.

ooo

November, Middle

"Today we're going to use our minds to battle. It's been a few weeks since we focused there. No spells, except of course whatever you have to do to get me out of your mind."

Harry took a deep breath and said, "Okay."

"Prepare yourself, Potter," said Draco.

"I'm ready."

Draco pointed his wand at Harry. "Legilimens!"

Harry was instantly bombarded by Draco's mind. However, as Draco had instructed, he had prepared a memory, a false memory, to act as a kind of alert. As soon as Draco was in his mind, the only image available was of the false memory. It was of Harry sitting by a pond, feeding ducks. In order to plant the memory in the forefront of his mind, Harry imagined that he had been there, had fed the ducks, so hard and so often that his mind eventually believed he had fed ducks by a pond one afternoon.

It was a trigger memory. As soon as this memory came to life in Harry's mind, walls would start going up elsewhere, protecting his most vital memories first. It also gave Harry a few seconds to collect himself and force the perpetrator out of his mind. He was successful; he pushed Draco out before he was able to break through the false memory in a matter of moments.

"Excellent," said Draco. "I think you've got the hang of Occlumency, don't you?"

Harry sighed. "Reckon so."

"Now. I trust you've been practicing Legilimency?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. Then its your turn."

Harry took a deep breath and collected himself before casting the spell. He immediately saw Draco's false memory: simply him flying through the sky, through the skies, with the occasional passing of a bird. That was it. Harry felt confident that he could break through.

He looked for the crack and when he found it, attacked it. Nothing happened. He tried a new tactic; still nothing. Again and again, nothing worked, and Draco waited patiently. Finally Harry remembered the one thing that had worked against Snape, the one thing he'd never told Draco about. So he cast the Shield Charm and he was suddenly inside Draco's mind.

Memories flashed by quickly—of him as a small boy, of him with his parents, his first kiss. And then a picture of him talking to Hermione, civilly, in a coffee shop. Harry stopped and stared, watching the scene for a few seconds, completely stunned.

In that moment, Draco expelled Harry from his mind.

Harry opened his eyes and saw Draco scowling at him. "Wh-what was that?" he asked.

"That was none of your business."

Harry shook his head, chuckling. "But… you were just sitting and talking with Hermione. How is that not my business?"

"Were you there? Did you see yourself in the scene, sitting and talking with us? No. So it's none of your business."

"Yes, but… why on earth would she have let you sit at a table with her. I mean, she was smiling, she looked happy. That… couldn't have happened recently."

Draco looked away, but not before Harry saw him scowl even deeper. Finally he said, "I imagine she would only do that if she didn't know it was me."

"Oh," said Harry, feeling monumentally stupid. "Right. She didn't recognize you."

"No."

"When did this happen?"

Draco sighed and sat down. "Um… I reckon about a year ago." Harry looked at him expectantly. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope," Harry replied.

"I had to go to Diagon Alley, so I assumed an alias. I bumped into her—literally—in the Apothecary. A few of the ingredients I'd been carrying had been ruined, and she insisted on paying for them. I wouldn't allow it, so she asked to buy me coffee to make up for it. I thought it would be quite rude to say no. We had coffee. That is all."

Harry nodded. "I remember her telling us about that, now that you mention it. She seemed bummed that you turned her down for dinner."

Draco reddened. "Yes, well. I couldn't very well do that, could I?" he snapped.

"No, I reckon not."

"Right. Are we through with this conversation? I'd like to continue our work, as it's infinitely more pressing than this conversation."

ooo

January, Beginning

"Draco…"

"Yes, Harry?"

"There's… an Owl for you."

Their eyes met and Draco's insides clenched tightly.

"You'd better open it," said Harry.

Carefully, in case the letter were cursed, Draco checked it for a magical signature. "It's sealed, but that's all," he said, breaking the seal. As he'd expected, nothing happened.

"I thought you weren't able to receive the post," said Harry as Draco read. They were sitting around their campfire, just finished dinner, when Harry heard a noise and went to investigate. None of their alarms had tripped, and it had turned out to be a jet-black owl, carrying a missive for Draco.

The good mood Draco had been in seemed to disappear. He frowned and said absently. "I can get mail from the Grangers… and apparently…" He made a disgusted face and handed the letter to Harry, who took it with a questioning look. "Read it," said Draco, tossing his uneaten food in the fire.

Harry's frown grew as he read the letter. "Who is this from?"

Draco sighed. "Name's at the bottom."

"Pansy—Pansy?! What? You're… marrying her?"

"Um, no. But she and my mother would like to think so."

"Oh! I… what do you mean?"

Draco took a deep breath and said, "Well, about four months before I came to you, my parents asked me to be present for dinner one evening. I said I would be there. That evening, they proceeded to tell me it was time I thought about settling down. Getting married."

"What? That—that's unbelievable!"

"No kidding. I was quite stunned myself. I was nearly twenty though, and it was 'high time' I settled down. Of course, I'm thinking, there's a bloody war going on outside; hadn't they noticed? Just… the very idea was ridiculous. Get married… during a war?"

"And to Pansy?"

"Exactly! As I listened to them going on and on about what a good match it would be, I couldn't help but think. There I was, a pureblood, wealthy—"

"Prejudiced, Death Eater snob," Harry finished.

Draco gave him a look, then nodded. "Basically. You would think I would be allowed to choose whom I wanted to marry. Instead, they wanted me to marry another wealthy, pureblooded, prejudiced snob who happened to think they way they did. Never mind that I couldn't stand the witch, and they knew it. Wouldn't you think they'd want the best for me? Better than that, at least."

"So… they have arranged marriages in the wizarding world?"

"Yes, they do," he said with a sigh. "It's usually only done to ensure purity of bloodlines."

"Naturally."

"So therefore, it's usually only done in pureblooded families who are stuck in traditional ways."

"Like your family," said Harry.

"Yes, like my family. However, I have no desire to perpetuate the… prejudices of my family. Of course, I'd rather marry just about anyone other than Pansy. And blood… doesn't matter. If, someday, I should happen to… care about someone, I won't let blood—or anything, really—get in the way."

Harry looked at him strangely. "What about Hermione?"

"What about her?"

"Would you marry her?"

Draco's eyes widened. "What, you mean…theoretically?"

"Sure. Why not? Theoretically, would you marry Hermione?"

"I…I mean… I would prefer her to Pansy by far, so… were it a choice between the two, I would choose her…"

Harry grinned slightly and Draco shook his head. "Explain something to me, Potter. I really want to understand. I know where you're going with this. Why—and I've asked you this before—why do you want me for her? You're her friend, you're supposed to want the best for her. Just… please, explain it to me. I don't understand this insistence of yours."

Harry nodded. "Sure. Okay. Hermione is… a very unique, special woman. And you seem to know it. No one has ever truly appreciated her completely before, at least not that I've known." Harry paused. "Hermione has always been… my friend. And it never really hit me until she was with Ron that she deserved certain things.

"I'd always figured she should be with Ron because, well, he's my best mate, and he liked her. A lot. End of story. Until they got together. Then I really saw how they were together. He treated her exactly the same, as though they were still just friends. Sure, they kissed, and all that…"

Harry trailed off and grinned. "See? You can't even hear about her kissing someone else without scowling!"

"Kissing Weasley," said Draco firmly. "The very idea…" He shuddered.

"Uh-huh… Anyway, he treated her the same as always. Made jokes about her with me, made fun of her, didn't take what she said seriously, only half-listened to her ideas… yet he claimed he loved her. Before they were together, the stupid things Ron said seemed to roll off Hermione's back, but as the time passed, I could see that they hurt her, and deeply."

"Lousy git," Draco muttered, breaking a few twigs in half.

Harry shook his head. "I'm amazed they lasted as long as they did, and I suspect it was due largely to Hermione refusing to give up and Ron not knowing anything was wrong. It was then I realized that Hermione deserved more, more than what Ron had to offer. I'd thought he was perfect for her, but… it was obvious he wasn't.

"I know you and Hermione aren't exactly friends, but you treat her that way. I don't even know if you realize it. But you haven't once tried to crack a joke at her expense, you respect her, as you've said yourself, you listen to what she has to say and even though you may not agree or go with her ideas, you listen. You don't dismiss her.

"You treat her the way she deserves to be treated, and that also means standing up to her when she needs it. Ron and I… we don't." Harry chuckled. "That was a lot longer than I'd intended, but there's your answer."

Draco was frowning and staring ahead into the dark forest. After a few moments, he shook his head. "She deserves better."

"Better than the way you treat her?"

"Certainly. I'm not perfect, Potter. I've hurt her."

"Sure, that's true. But it bothered you when you did. Ron—and I'm sorry to continually compare you to him, but it's the best I've got—dismissed her when she was upset, too! Said she was being unreasonable; didn't let it get to him that he upset her. You truly care about her."

Draco couldn't deny that, no matter how much he wished he wanted to. But he'd cared about her long before he ever liked her, and it had helped him through the bad times, pulled him through the impossible times. He'd never stop caring for her, even if he never saw her again.

Harry sighed, frustrated. "Draco, why can't you fathom that you could be that better she deserves? Is it that you don't want to be?"

Draco shook his head. "It's… she's… You're right, she deserves all of that, and more. It's the more I can't promise. And I don't want to talk about this anymore, Harry. You just keep pushing and I know already. I—I reckon I ought to be… flattered that you so obviously think I'm good enough for her, but…" He sighed. "I just don't think I am."

"Well, I think she should be allowed to decide that, don't you?"

Draco smirked. "Right. Like that's ever going to happen."

"At least you're not marrying Pansy, right?"

"Merlin, no. Not if she were the last witch on earth."

"That's another thing, you know. You won't settle—it's not like you. You'd rather be alone than with someone you didn't love. Which means—if you ever stop being such a little wuss about it—that if you were with Hermione, you would have to really want to be."

Draco sighed and thought long and hard. "Okay, Harry. I hear you. Okay? And… thanks, I guess. But we should rest—big day tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay. What should I do with this letter?"

"Burn it. We can't leave any trace we were here."

ooo

A/N: One more to go! Thanks for reading!