Harry awoke with a crick in his neck and his entire right leg asleep. After gaining his bearings, he checked his watch. Breakfast was half-gone and students would be headed to class shortly. What was his first class today? He racked his brain. Care of Magical Creatures. With the Slytherins. Speaking of Slytherins, Draco was still asleep behind him. He elbowed the blonde a bit, prodding him awake.

"Mmm…Harry?"

"Wake up, Draco. We're late." He felt a jolt behind him, Draco was up. "Don't worry. We have Care of Magical Creatures first. We'll throw on the invisibility cloak, go get ready, and slip in late. Even if Hagrid notices, he'll probably let us get away with it." They spent a moment stomping around the class to get feeling back in their legs, then bolted under the cloak again.

Some twenty minutes later, the boys were quietly sprinting across the grounds. They came up behind Hagrid's hut. Harry stopped abruptly and turned to speak to Draco.

Unfortunately, his actions had some interesting consequences. First, his sudden stop knocked Draco off balance. His turn left him in position to catch the falling boy, but his hands only managed to come up to Draco's hips. Draco's hands had slipped around behind Harry. They stood like that for a moment, hip to hip, and then Harry let go. As did Draco, though he lingered a moment longer. Harry cleared his throat.

"I'll go first, you follow in a minute. Use the cloak." He ducked out from under the cloak and slipped into the milling class. A couple minutes later, he spotted Draco. They had both made it.

"…dolykins. So today, yer gonna do a 'fresher in flobberworms. Er…over here."

Hagrid had that defeated look he sometimes got. Harry felt bad, but the dolykins really weren't safe. The class wandered toward some tables covered in lettuce. Harry sat between Ron and Hermione. They started shredding the lettuce for the flobberworms on the table. Some of the Slytherins sat a bit further down the table. Somehow, Draco ended up more or less across from Harry, between Crabbe and Goyle. It didn't look like he was expecting or planning conversation, however; he was busily trying to keep Crabbe and Goyle from killing their flobberworms.

"You morons! These things are indestructible, you can't kill them! And yet, somehow, you manage it every time! Don't stick your fingers down their throats! Really, they should have nice sharp teeth to keep you from doing that. Out, out, out. Forget it. Give me those!" He took their flobberworms, rather roughly. "You tear lettuce, I'll feed them." He then settled in for what actually is a difficult task, feeding three at once.

Harry tried to keep his eyes on his work and off Draco, but it wasn't easy. He got the distinct feeling that Hermione was watching him. In an attempt to avoid her gaze, he glanced at Ron.

The red head's face was lined in concentration that seemed focused on the Slytherin trio. Harry knew what that meant. Any minute now, Ron was going to make an ass out of himself trying to pick a fight with Malfoy. This wouldn't be pretty.

Draco was having his own problems. Crabbe and Goyle were handing him huge, roughly torn pieces of lettuce which he then had to tear smaller to use as he tried to keep up with all three worms. "Can't even shred lettuce right," he muttered, more to himself than to the table, Harry guessed.

Ron took his, well, what he thought was his opportunity. "It's so hard to find good help these days." He mocked Draco's speech pattern, but somehow missed the distinct drawl Harry was used to hearing. It was like listening to someone obliviously sing flat.

Harry considered Ron's position on the list. Why had he put Ron on it? Because Ron, and not Harry, was really Draco's enemy. He was the one who started the fights. This probably explained why Draco won so much. But why wouldn't Draco want him to know his secret? If Ron had something like that, he might actually win an argument.

Speaking of arguments, Ron was trying to start one. Draco looked at him from under raised eyebrows. He wouldn't take this for long. Harry reached out and put a warning hand on Ron's arm. The redhead shot him a curious glance. Hermione was definitely looking at them, no, at him. And so was Draco; he felt like a sore thumb. He pulled his hand back and recommitted himself to his flobberworm.

After this brief pause, Ron picked back up. "So, Malfoy, finding that maybe you picked the wrong friends?"

"Weasel, you have no say in my choice of friends, as I don't have a choice in yours." He glanced to Harry. Harry was starting to feel like he had been entirely left out of something. Not to mention, Draco seemed to be trying to avoid an argument.

Ron seemed dead set on one. "What? Do you think I chose badly? Tell me, Malfoy. What do you think?"

Draco's features remained calm, but his eyes belied fear, albeit temporarily. Fear? What was he afraid of? "No, Weasel, you haven't chosen poorly. Your friends have."

Ron turned beet red. "Why…you…" Harry knew this was going to happen. Every time Ron started one of these arguments, he ran out of things to say. He always ended up stuttering stupidly at Draco.

Draco looked up at Ron. "Weasel? Let it go. Just give up." With that, he dismissed Ron and paid no further attention to the red head's stammerings.

Harry had figured that Ron was a weak addition to the list. Draco didn't care at all what he thought or knew. It simply didn't matter. He sighed. His list was down to two, and his flobberworm was, slowly but surely, scooting off down the table.