All the Answers - Chapter 9

Disclaimer - It's not mine. Really. J.K. Rowling's the brilliant mind behind HP.

Notes - Post-HBP 7th year fic, not Deathly Hallows compliant at all. Eventually it will be Harry/Draco, thus the M rating. Beta'd by the wonderful Smutella and Nymph!

The one bad thing about being back at the Burrow, as Harry was quickly reminded, was that there were only two bathrooms. One might think that, what with Ginny back at Hogwarts and therefore there being one less girl in the house, this really wouldn't be an issue.

But then one would be wrong.

Harry huffed, letting his head fall forward to bang against the door. "Malfoy," he said between clenched teeth, "I know it must be a terrible inconvenience for you to have your shower cut off an hour earlier than usual, but really – Get. Out. Of. The. Effing. BATHROOM!"

"What was that, Potter?" a muffled voice called over the sounds of running water. "I'm sure you said something, but either it wasn't important enough for me to acknowledge, or – no, wait, I'm pretty sure it just wasn't important enough for me to acknowledge."

Harry drew in a breath slowly and tried to count to ten.

He made it to three before he decided that tactic wouldn't work.

"Merlin, see if I ever save your arse again!" he burst out. "I was better off leaving you to Greyback!"

"Oh, come off it, you don't mean that!" Draco said, sounding completely unconcerned that Harry might have been serious.

"I do mean it, and if you're not out of there in the next minute I'll bring you back to him myself!" He sighed, pushing his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sod it, I'm coming in."

"What? Don't you dare!"

"Come out here and stop me, then!"

"Yeah, like I'm going to fall for that. And anyway, the door's locked–"

"Alohomora!" Harry spat at the doorknob. He heard it click, and Draco made a protesting sound.

"Potter–"

Harry ignored him, shoving the door open and storming inside. He made it as far as the sink before he paused, floundering a bit. Okay, so he was inside… Now what?

Draco poked his head out of the shower, looking disgruntled. "Why are you so impatient?" he groused, the soap suds in his hair dripping down his neck and slowly forming small mountains of foam on his shoulders. Harry's eyes followed one of the globs as the spray from the shower caught it, pushing it down his chest along that thin, upraised scar. It disappeared behind the shower curtain that Draco had pulled in front of his stomach, shielding anything below from view.

"Potter!"

"What?" Harry said, startled, his eyes snapping up to meet Draco's. His cheeks looked a bit pinker than usual. Harry guessed it was from the heat of the water.

"I asked you why you're so impatient," Draco replied after an awkward beat of silence. He pulled the curtain a bit farther across his chest. "I'm almost finished."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Your almost finished means I'll still be waiting another half-hour," he said, moving forward.

"And where exactly do you think you're going?" Draco asked, his voice slipping up a notch as his eyes widened in alarm. Harry stopped in front of the toilet.

"I've had to pee all morning," he said bluntly. "You're off your rocker if you think I'm waiting any longer."

Draco's nose wrinkled. "Is there something wrong with the other bathroom?"

"Ron and Hermione are using that one."

"God, not together, I hope!" Draco exclaimed, his face twisting in disgust.

Harry shrugged, but honestly, he had no idea. He rather hoped they weren't.

Another few seconds of silence passed, before Harry arched an eyebrow at Draco. "Were you just going to stand there and watch?"

"Ew, you were being serious?" Draco asked, his nose scrunching up again. "How am I supposed to shower when you're taking a piss right next to me?"

Harry looked incredulous. "Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but didn't you live in a dormitory for the past six years? Unless Slytherins get their own personal bathrooms or something…" He sounded as if the idea wasn't all that farfetched.

"We don't," Draco said, lifting his chin. "But, remember, I was a Prefect – and you were not – so I got to use the Prefects' bathroom – while you did not."

Harry let out an exasperated breath, glancing up at the ceiling. "Yeah, well, you remember that I was Quidditch captain last year – and you were not – so I also got to use the Prefects' bathroom. Which, you may also remember, consists of a giant bathtub, a row of showers, and a row of stalls. Much like every other bathroom in Hogwarts." He paused, and then added, "Aside from the giant bathtub, that is."

"But…" Draco fished around for something to say. "But, Potter, I'm naked."

Harry gave him a blank look. "You should be; you're taking a shower." Draco stared at him flatly, and Harry blinked. "God, is that what's got your wand in a knot? It's not like I haven't seen a naked boy before!"

"You've never seen me naked before!"

"And let's keep it that way, yeah? I'm not exactly planning on jumping in there with you, you know." Harry faced the toilet finally, hands already moving towards the elastic band of his shorts. Draco promptly 'hmphed' and disappeared back into the shower again.

Once Harry was finished, he propped himself up on the edge of the sink, kicking his legs back and forth and willing Draco to hurry up. The water shut off a few minutes later, and there was a brief pause before Draco spoke.

"Potter?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah?"

"Damn it, you're still here?"

Harry grinned. "Thought it might encourage you to finish quicker."

"I'm sure." There was another pause, and then, in an agitated voice, he asked, "Will you hand me my fucking towel, then?"

Harry glanced around, spotting Draco's towel, clothes, and wand lying in a pile on the other side of the sink. Grabbing the towel, he hopped off the counter and held it out for Draco. "Here."

Draco snatched it from him, and after giving Harry an annoyed look, he let the shower curtain fall shut again. Harry shrugged, chuckling, and wandered back over to the sink. He pulled off his shirt, dropping it carelessly beside Draco's, and peered at himself in the mirror. His hair was sticking up even more than usual since he hadn't bothered to put a brush to it since he woke up, but that wasn't anything unusual. Raising his eyes, he stared at his scar for a bit. He hadn't felt it twinge too much lately. There hadn't been any attacks in the Daily Prophet recently either. He wondered what Voldemort was up to, what horrible plan he'd come out with next…

"You can get in now," Draco grumbled, coming up behind Harry. His towel was wrapped precariously low around his hips, and his wet hair was sticking to his neck, sending rivulets of water dripping in trails down his chest.

"Alright," Harry said, yanking off his glasses and leaving them on his shirt. He grabbed his own towel and moved towards the shower, wrapping it around his waist and dropping his shorts in one fluid motion. He thought he heard Draco cough slightly, but he didn't much care since he was more concerned about finally getting to take his shower.

He let the curtain fall shut behind him, only sticking his arm out to drop his towel on the floor. The instant the hot water hit his skin, Harry sighed in relief. The best way to really wake up, he thought, was by taking a shower. It relaxed and energized him at the same time, washing away all of his problems, if only for a moment.

"Hey, Potter," Draco said suddenly, and Harry remembered with a start that the other boy was still in the bathroom. He sighed, and grabbed the shampoo.

"What?" he replied, pushing his hands through his hair and lathering up.

Draco hesitated, and then asked quickly, "Do you think I should owl my mother?"

Harry paused. "If you want to," he said carefully. "I'm sure she's fine, though…"

"I know, it's just that – I mean, she was in pretty bad shape, wasn't she? When she Apparated?"

Oh. Harry had almost forgotten she'd been under the Cruciatus curse.

"She seemed–" Harry was going to say fine again, but at the last second he decided being honest might be a good idea. He sighed, his eyes falling shut as he tipped his face up into the spray. "Yeah, she was in pretty bad shape," he admitted softly. "Bellatrix had her under it for a while…"

Silence answered him and Harry was beginning to wonder if Draco had left, when suddenly the shower curtain was yanked to the side.

Harry yelped, nearly losing his balance on the slippery floor, and cried, "Malfoy! What the hell?"

"What if she didn't make it?" Draco demanded, ignoring Harry's panicked face. His hand clenched around the curtain. "What if she didn't get far enough? What if she collapsed somewhere along the way? What if she splinched herself? What if–" Draco's eyes went wide. "What if the Dark Lord has her?"

"Malfoy…" Harry pried Draco's fingers off the curtain and pulled it mostly shut to give himself some privacy. Draco blinked, his face flushing as if he hadn't realized what he'd just done, but then he narrowed his eyes at Harry and waited for an answer. Harry sighed. "I doubt Voldemort has her," he said. "Give it a couple of days, let her get situated. If we don't hear from her in a week or so–"

"A week?" Draco cut in.

"A week," Harry replied nodding. "If she doesn't send you something, then you can owl her. I just… I don't think it's a good idea to attract attention to the fact that she's gone right now."

Draco huffed and leaned back against the wall opposite the shower, crossing his arms across his naked chest – Harry finally noticed that he was still only wearing the towel. "Potter. Why…" He paused briefly, and then plowed on, "Why did she leave without me? She couldn't have known you were going to stay behind. She knows I can't stand you."

"I think…" Harry's brow furrowed, and he ducked back into the shower so that he could rinse the soap out of his hair. "I think she knew I was going to get you out of there. I mean, I don't know how much your father tells your mum, but between the Chamber of Secrets thing and the Department of Mysteries fiasco, I'm fairly certain she understands that I've got a bit of a…saving people thing." He frowned, thinking of Sirius, as Hermione's voice whispered the words in his head. He knew well enough that they were true, though. "Besides," Harry continued after a bit, "we sort of had a moment back there–"

"You and my mum had a moment?" Draco interrupted incredulously.

"Well – yes," Harry said awkwardly. He shut off the water and wasn't all that surprised when Draco thrust his arm into the shower, Harry's towel in his hand. "Thanks," he muttered, taking it and drying off. "Anyway, I was staring at her, trying to get her to understand that I was about to let off that spell so she'd be able to leave, and she – she was watching me, and then…and then she looked at you."

"At me?"

"Yeah. At you, and then back at me, and I…I guess I understood what she was asking."

"I told her I'd been with you the whole time she thought I was missing. I figured it was okay, since it was face to face and not in an owl that might have been intercepted."

Harry wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower, finding Draco dressed now. They were standing close enough that Harry could mostly make out Draco's features, but he was still a bit blurred around the edges.

"She entrusted me to you," Draco said slowly. "First she entrusted me to Snape, and now to you." He sighed. "I wonder when she stopped being able to take care of me herself…"

Harry gave him a lopsided grin. "Guess I'll have to keep you all in one piece for her, then."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Please. I can take care of myself," he said, smirking.

"Well, by all means, if you want to leave again…" Harry gestured at the door, raising his eyebrows. Draco snorted.

"I think I'll stay here this time, thanks."

Harry let out a long-suffering sigh. "Fine, fine," he said easily. "Now out of my way; I can't see a bloody thing without my glasses."

Draco snickered, but moved toward the door. "I'll let you get dressed," he said.

"Not necessary," Harry said, sliding his glasses on. "I didn't bring a change of clothes."

Draco shrugged, opening the door, and after making sure his towel was still tightly wrapped around himself, Harry followed.

"Oh, Harry, there you are!" Ron called, and Harry and Draco turned to see him coming down the hall. He stopped abruptly, though, his eyes widening and looking slowly from the door of the bathroom to the two boys and back again. "Did…did you two just…?"

Harry blinked. "Just what?"

"Did you both just come out of the bathroom–" Ron swallowed. "–together?"

"What?" Harry looked back at the door, his brow furrowing. "Yeah, we were showering. Why?"

Ron's eyes went even wider, and he floundered. "But…"

"God, Weasley, not together as in together!" Draco spat. "For Merlin's sake. We were just talking."

Ron still looked doubtful, and Harry finally caught on to what he was thinking. "Oh, Ron, no," he said quickly, his nose scrunching up in distaste. "He was taking forever and I was tired of waiting, so I forced my way in, is all."

"Into the shower?" Ron asked faintly.

"Into the bathroom," Harry and Draco said simultaneously, exasperated.

"Oh. Right." Ron nodded. "And then – and then Malfoy finished and you two were talking and that's why he was still in there. Yeah?"

"Yeah," they said together again, and then promptly gave each other annoyed looks.

Ron glanced back and forth between them, his expression doubtful, before he turned away. "Well…alright then. Mum says breakfast is ready, whenever you are." He headed back downstairs, and Draco immediately moved to follow. Then he paused, realizing he was still holding his pajamas and damp towel, so he turned and thrust them into Harry's arms.

"He's daft, that one," he said, smirking a bit. "Take those back to the room for me, would you?"

"Yes, master," Harry said sarcastically, eying the outfit Draco had on for the first time. "Hey – those are my clothes!"

"Well, what did you expect?" Draco said loftily, plucking at the shirt he had on. "I packed up all my stuff when I left, remember? And now it's all at the Manor."

"You mean you haven't got any clothes again?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Fuck, Malfoy!"

"I figured you'd lend Mrs. Weasley some money so she can go shopping for me again," Draco quipped, and then before Harry could answer, he turned and hurried off down the steps. "Hurry up, Potter, or I'll eat your share!" Harry sighed, staring down at the pile of clothes in his arms, and headed off to his room to see if there was anything left for him to wear.

xXxXx

The next week passed in a fairly quick blur. They'd gone back to doing research again, though now Harry was more concerned with finding information on how to destroy Horcruxes rather than how to find them. He had the locket wrapped up and tucked away in the bottom of his trunk so that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't accidentally stumble upon it while she was cleaning. He didn't like having it nearby, anyway. Sometimes it made his scar itch uncomfortably, and when he'd shown it to Draco the other boy had taken one look at it, clasped his hand over his Dark Mark, and told him to get it the hell away.

Unfortunately, the research was proving as fruitful as before. Draco was helping again, though as the week wore on he became less and less useful. He was very on-edge lately, and each day he grew more tense and anxious. Harry had given up talking to him altogether by the fifth day (Hermione and Ron had given up by the end of the third) because every conversation ended with Harry being snapped at. He tried not to blame him, though, because he knew it was just because they still hadn't heard from Draco's mother.

Day six came and went with Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting on opposite sides of the kitchen table as Draco.

On day seven they didn't even stay in the same room.

When day nine rolled around and they still hadn't heard from Mrs. Malfoy, Draco didn't even leave the bedroom.

"You reckon something happened to her?" Ron asked over breakfast on day ten, shoveling some kippers into his mouth. Harry shrugged in reply, pushing his own food around his plate.

"To be honest, Harry, I really thought we would have heard from her by now," Hermione said softly. "Maybe you should let Malfoy owl her."

"Let him owl her?" Harry repeated, glancing up. "Hermione, I'm not his keeper! He doesn't need my permission. I only suggested he wait a week, but after that I said he could owl her. It's not like I'm forcing him to refrain from writing her," he finished, muttering at the end.

"He's probably nervous," Ron spoke up again, waving his fork around. "What if he writes her and never gets a reply? She could be dead for all we know."

"Thanks, Weasley, for that vote of confidence," Draco snapped, appearing in the kitchen doorway.

"Malfoy!" Harry said, surprised to see him. "Er – d'you want to eat something?"

"No, I…" He hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip a little. "I wanted to ask if I could borrow your owl…"

Harry blinked. "Sure. I don't mind. Um, I'm not really sure where she is, though." Come to think of it, Harry hadn't seen her in a few days. He turned to Hermione. "Has she been through here recently?"

Hermione shrugged, looking concerned.

"You could use Pig," Ron offered, gulping down some pumpkin juice. "He hasn't had any work to do in a while."

Draco grimaced, but looked resigned. "I appreciate the offer, Weasley," he said stiffly. "I'm not sure how far he'll have to go, though. Are you sure that…bird can make it?" Harry snorted, hearing Draco's 'small, pathetic excuse for a' go unsaid in that slight pause.

"Pig's pretty reliable," Ron said, obliviously.

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but before he could a loud screech sounded and Hedwig swooped into the room and landed on the kitchen table.

"Speak of the devil," Harry murmured, running a finger over the owl's soft head and then letting her nibble it.

"Harry, she's got a letter for you," Hermione pointed out.

Harry looked at Hedwig's leg. "More than one, by the look of it." He untied the letters, and was suddenly overcome with the flowery scent that he immediately associated with Ginny. Sure enough, as he flipped quickly through the three letters he'd received, one of them was from her.

"Wait!" Draco said suddenly, lunging forward and grabbing the bundle from Harry's hands. "I thought – I thought I saw–" He let out a triumphant cry, dropping the two unneeded letters to the table. "It's my mum's handwriting!" He tore the seal off and scanned the writing on the page, his shoulders slumping in obvious relief.

"Well?" Ron demanded.

"She's alright," Draco said absently, still reading. "She said there was a change of plans and she's staying with a trustworthy friend in Spain – Spain? We were supposed to go to France!"

"At least she's okay, though," Hermione said.

"Yeah." Draco frowned, reading through the rest of the letter. "She left a footnote for you, Potter." He thrust the letter in Harry's direction, and he accepted it, startled.

"Why did she–"

"Just read it."

Harry's brow furrowed as he glanced down at the elegantly penned words.

Mr. Potter~

I apologize for seemingly leaving my son in your care
again so easily. It was not a choice that was easy
to make, but given the short amount of time I had
to decide things, it seemed the best route to take.
I'm still unaware of how you managed to get into
my home, Harry Potter, but there are a great many
things I'm not sure how you've managed to
accomplish. When I noticed that the wards were
down, however, I had a brief feeling of hope. Draco
had informed me of your willingness to protect him
throughout the summer, and I can only hope that this
show of benevolence will continue. I was in poor
condition, I admit, after being under that curse, both
from suffering it and because I never thought my sister
would turn against me in such a way. I confess I
thought there was still some good in her. I see now
that the Dark Lord has erased it entirely.

I've taken my leave from this war, Mr. Potter. I know
that is something you will never be able to do, and
I know my own son well enough that I can accept
that it is something he would not have been able to
agree to for long either. Because of this, and
because it would have been impossible for me to
escape safely with my son by my side, I leave him
to you. It pains me to do so, but Draco's safety is
and always has been my first priority. This may
contradict the idea of leaving him in the war zone
that Britain now is, but getting him away from that
werewolf was first and foremost on my list of
worries. I have complete faith that when this letter
finds my son, you will be sitting there beside him.

I expect to be able to return to a wizarding world
devoid of evil megalomaniacs soon, Mr. Potter, and
I expect my son to be exactly the way he was when
I left, with not one hair out of place.

In all sincerity,
Narcissa Malfoy

"A footnote? More like she left me an entire second letter," Harry muttered, unable to help glancing through Draco's portion as well. It seemed she'd explained to Draco why she had left without him, using much the same reasoning Harry had that day in the bathroom, though she used phrases like 'he's so obviously a Gryffindor' rather than 'he has a people saving thing.' "And I love how she expects me to take absolutely perfect care of you, orders me to, in fact, when I'm the one who took the risk of saving you in the first place!"

"I told you, I can take care of myself!" Draco said, rolling his eyes and snatching the letter back from Harry. "I'm still trying to figure out why she's in Spain of all places. We don't know anyone in Spain, I'm sure…"

"Mate, you've still got two other letters to worry about," Ron pointed out. "Well, one other letter." He picked up Ginny's note, frowning at it, and glanced curiously at the final letter still left on the table.

"It doesn't say who it's from," Hermione said needlessly. It was quite obvious that the only thing visible on the folded white parchment was a quickly scrawled H. P.

"Wait a second," Harry murmured, reaching it for it. Hermione quickly slapped his hand away.

"You can't open that, Harry!" she exclaimed. "We don't know who it's from–"

"I do!" Harry interrupted, grabbing it before she could stop him again. Of course he recognized that writing. He'd studied it again and again, despite Hermione's orders not to, for the entire past year, hadn't he?

"It does look familiar," Ron said, narrowing his eyes.

Draco nodded. "I think I've seen it before, too."

"How can you possibly recognize it from two letters?" Hermione scoffed, looking annoyed that the boys weren't listening to her. "It could be cursed or – or maybe it's a timed Portkey! Harry, you don't know who it's from!"

"It's from Snape!" Harry said loudly, earning gasps from around the table. Suddenly the letter was no longer in his hands, but floating in the air in front of Draco, who had his wand trained on it. Harry hadn't heard him perform any spells, but then again it was entirely possible he'd done a nonverbal one.

"Never mind, I agree with Granger," he said flatly. "You shouldn't open it." Hermione blinked, but looked grateful that someone was siding with her.

"What – Malfoy!"

"It's his letter, Malfoy; he can do what he wants with it!" Ron said, making a halfhearted grab to get the letter back. Draco moved it away with a small flick of his wand, and Ron didn't reach for it again. Harry suspected his friend was only agreeing with him for the sole sake of not wanting to agree with Draco.

"At least let us check it for hexes," Hermione said in a placating tone.

Harry huffed, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine," he snapped. Ron let out a breath in obvious relief.

He tried waiting patiently, but by the time Hermione and Draco had cast every spell ever invented on the letter, he was bouncing his foot up and down and tapping his arm anxiously.

"Aren't you finished yet?" he asked, unable to help himself.

"Oh, shut it, Potter, it hasn't even been five minutes," Draco said absently, his wand still held aloft as he cast another spell.

"It looks alright to me," Hermione said reluctantly, just a few seconds later. "I guess you can open it…" She glanced at Draco, who shrugged and sent the letter flying back to Harry.

"Finally," he grumbled, grabbing it and opening it quickly. He ran his eyes over the two lines of text written, and gave the others an annoyed look. "Because that was so worth having a fit about," he groused, tossing it onto the table. Draco, Ron, and Hermione immediately crowded around it, eager to see what Snape could possibly have written about.

Meet me at the Hog's Head – Friday, 2pm sharp.
Come alone. Don't be late.

"He didn't even sign it," Hermione spoke up after a moment.

"Because he knew I'd recognize his handwriting," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. "I had his Potions book all year, remember?"

Ron snickered, while Hermione said in a testy voice, "How could I forget?"

"You had his Potions textbook?" Draco repeated, looking curious. "How come?"

"Ron and I didn't buy books at first, because we didn't think we'd be in the class," Harry explained. "So we borrowed some of the old ones, and somehow I ended up with his."

"I told him to return it," Hermione added, obviously still annoyed.

"Why did it matter?"

"It had all sorts of nifty spells in it that the author had written in the margins," Ron said eagerly. "We didn't know it was Snape who'd come up with them."

Harry suddenly felt cold, remembering what one of the spells had been. He coughed and tried to change the subject. "Er, yeah, the spells. Well, anyway–"

"What sort of spells?" Draco said loudly, overtop of him. His eyes had a hard glint to them, and were narrowed slightly.

He knows, Harry thought, biting his lip.

"There was one that makes a person's tongue stick to the roof of their mouth," Ron said, oblivious to the tension suddenly surrounding the table. "There was also another one that muffled noise–"

"There didn't happen to be one that could, oh, slice a person open…was there?" Draco asked innocently.

Silence.

"Er…" Ron mumbled.

"Look, Malfoy, I already apologized for that–"

"You got that spell from a book?" Draco exclaimed, turning to face him. "And you didn't know who had written it? You idiot!"

"I told him to hand it back in," Hermione said quickly. "He was using those spells left and right and half of them I don't think said what they did."

"That's a load of bollocks, Hermione!" Harry said quickly, angrily. "I knew very well what they did!" Draco gave him a look that was somehow furious, incredulous, and shocked all at the same time, and Harry floundered. "Erm – what some of them did," he corrected himself. "Not – not all of them. And not that one. It just said for enemies."

"For enemies?" Draco repeated, wide-eyed, and Harry realized he'd only made things worse. "ENEMIES? Bloody hell, Potter! You almost killed me!"

"I told you, you were about to use the Cruciatus curse on me!" Harry yelled. "I panicked!"

"The book also had modified potions instructions in it," Hermione cut in nervously. Harry knew she was just trying to stop them from fighting, but really, couldn't she have said something else? Anything else? "They had little hints in them, and short-cuts and such–"

"You're not helping, Hermione," Ron interrupted as Draco's face went red.

"That's why you were doing so well in Potions last year?" Draco said tightly, as if he was trying to refrain from exploding. "Because you had Snape's personal Potions for Complete Idiots handbook?"

"Um…yes?" Harry said tentatively.

Draco breathed in slowly. "That figures," he said. "That just absolutely figures." He fumed silently a bit more, while the other three watched him anxiously.

After a minute or two of this, Ron cleared his throat. "There's – uh, there's still the matter about Snape's letter…"

Oh yeah.

"Right," Harry said, quickly taking advantage of the distraction. "I'm assuming he means this Friday, yeah?"

"What – Harry, you can't possibly be thinking of going," Hermione said incredulously. "That's…that's dangerous, and–"

"And he might be able to help us," Harry pointed out. "Look, I don't trust him either–"

"Then why go?" Hermione cried. "We'll find something soon, I'm sure."

"And what about the other Horcruxes?" Harry demanded. "Do you think we'll be able to find them without some sort of help? If Dumbledore told anyone else about the Horcruxes, it's Snape. He's the only other person Dumbledore trusted implicitly."

"I don't think you should go, Potter," Draco said quietly. "At least…not without backup."

"I agree," Ron said quickly. "You can't actually go alone. So–"

"–I'll go with you!"

Harry blinked, looking back and forth between Ron and Draco, who were staring at each other in shock, and then he gave Hermione an inquiring glance. She shrugged, smiling a bit.

"You both…want to come with me?" Harry asked carefully.

"Yes," they said in unison again, completely ignoring each other.

"I always go with you, Harry," Ron said, his eyes bright. "What makes you think I'd stay behind this time?

"And there's no way you're leaving me!" Draco said quickly. "I need to see Snape again, too."

"But…he told me to come alone…"

Ron rolled his eyes. "So we'll go under the Invisibility Cloak!"

Draco suddenly looked a lot more excited about sneaking along. "Yeah, even Snape won't be able to see through that!"

Harry looked at Hermione again. "Well?"

She grinned. "I'll stay behind this time. Let the boys bond, and all that."

"Guys night out?" Ron added, looking mischievous. "Hey, Harry, maybe we can stop by Hogwarts! We could go see Neville and Seamus and – everyone!"

"Yeah, Potter, you could visit your girlfriend," Draco added, smirking.

"Ex-girlfriend," Harry said absently, before continuing, "I somehow doubt we can just waltz right up to Hogwarts and expect to be let in."

"You're still students there," Hermione pointed out. She sounded excited. "I bet you could talk to Professor McGonagall – oh! Maybe she'll give you some study materials! You know, preparation exams for the N.E.W.T.s or something! We'll have so much to catch up on when all this is over, it'd be good if we worked studying into our regime somehow…" She trailed off, obviously already thinking up ways to get them involved in study sessions again.

Ron and Harry exchanged panicked looks, though Draco didn't seem too upset by the idea.

"Er – sure, Hermione. If I get a chance to go to Hogwarts, I'll be sure to talk to McGonagall for you," Harry said, glancing at Ron again and rolling his eyes.

"It's Tuesday now," Hermione said absently, not listening to him any longer as she stood up and headed for the door. "If I write her now she should be able to get things prepared…"

Harry sighed, but he was grinning.

"Alright," he said, looking between Ron and Draco. "Friday it is."