"Mr Snape?"
Harry jumped. Professor Arbutus was peering at him over his glasses, and his eyes glittered.
"Yes, Professor?"
"I asked you, Mr Snape, whether you would tell me the principal ingredients in a Draught of Living Death. If it would be entirely convenient, of course."
The class snickered. Harry blushed.
"Er…asphodel," he said, "powdered, er, root of asphodel, and…and…wormwood, I think, sir," said Harry.
"That's correct. Take two points for Gryffindor, Mr Snape, less one for inattention."
Harry cursed himself and tried to concentrate. It shouldn't be hard to concentrate in Potions, he loved Potions. (And after all Arbutus had guarded the Stone rather well; he'd taken a look at that scroll on their way back through and the logic puzzle was brilliant…)
No, stop thinking about the Stone, Harry scolded himself.
But he couldn't. They had stolen the most powerful magical artefact in existence. The key to eternal life and eternal wealth was under his pillow, in his dormitory, that very moment. He found that he couldn't stop worrying about it, even when he was supposed to be thinking about other things. Potions was only the end of a very long week.
In Transfiguration, the key that he was trying to turn into a quill turned white and then red and then vanished altogether.
In Charms he said that the incantation for the Severing Charm was Diffidens instead of Diffindo, and Professor Flitwick gave him the kind of look Baruffio's compatriots must have given him when they found him underneath that buffalo.
In Herbology, Harry had to get help from Longbottom, which was distinctly annoying.
He fell asleep in Astronomy.
In fact, the only good thing that had come out of this so far—and he wasn't quite sure it was a good thing—was Malfoy.
The first few mornings after the heist, Malfoy had seated himself without an invitation at the Gryffindor table to discuss what to do with "It". Harry kept dragging the other three back on topic, because Ron and Hermione kept bickering, Hermione and Draco kept having long debates which Draco kept refusing to admit he had lost, and Ron and Draco kept hissing nasty things about each other's families, beliefs, and personal appearances.
Eventually, though, they evolved a plan. The Stone was to remain where it was—in the jar of Invisibility Potion, under Harry's pillow. Meanwhile, they would try to prove Potter's guilt so they could involve Dumbledore without being brushed off. Two of them—Harry and Hermione that night, based on a schedule Hermione started to draw up—were to take the potion and stand guard at the door to Fluffy's chamber every night, taking turns sleeping. If Potter showed up, one person was to stay and watch him and possibly stall him; the other was to run to get Dumbledore.
"I only hope he hasn't already gone after it and found it missing," said Hermione. "We've wasted so much time talking about this!"
They'd reached the decision just that morning—Friday. Slytherins and Gryffindors had Potions together on Fridays first thing, so it happened that when breakfast finished the four of them headed the same direction. Malfoy kept himself a little removed, in case another Slytherin saw him, but Harry realised about halfway there that they were going the same direction, at the same pace, in relatively close proximity. In other words—walking to class together.
Arbutus paced up and down in front of the room now, the way he usually did when he lectured.
"Asphodel is a type of lily, a flower connected with death; wormwood is associated with regret, or bitterness. Can anyone tell me why the wormwood is added? I know you know, Miss Granger, thank you. But I fear Mr Snape's attention is wandering again. Wormwood, Mr Snape?"
Harry gave the correct answer quickly this time.
"Thank you so much for joining us again, Mr Snape. You must tell us one day about the land of daydream and what it is that draws you so irresistibly."
The class laughed. Draco, who was sitting nearby, glanced at Ron, and they both grinned before looking at Harry. Harry smiled back.
The next day, Draco passed the Gryffindor table at breakfast—ostensibly to get the watch schedule Hermione had carefully drawn up for the four of them, but he didn't go away when he'd got it.
"You've got this all in code," he said, peering at it. "What's this on Wednesday? It looks like I've got part of the watch to myself."
"It's not code, it's just abbreviations," said Hermione. "And Wednesday, well, we've all got Astronomy with the Ravenclaws at midnight. You'll just have to do the best you can; it's only one hour."
Ron furrowed his brow and peered at his copy of the paper. "If these are abbreviations…okay, I get that Dramione is you and Malfoy, and Romione is you and me, and all that, but who's 'Harmony'?" He pointed to Friday.
"Oh, that's me and Harry. Our names are similar enough to make it confusing, so I changed it."
"Right," said Draco, "because you didn't want it to be confusing. Got it."
"How come I've got four watches and Malfoy and Harry have only got three?" Ron said.
"I've got four watches too, Ron. Someone's got to. Harry's got Quidditch practices and he's got to guard It, and it just makes sense for us to have more watches than Draco since he's in another House."
"But how come you and I have got more than one watch together?"
"Well, there are only six combinations, so one of the pairings has to go twice. It was going to be me and Harry but I changed my mind, like I explained."
"But…"
"A bit lazy when it comes to actually implementing your brilliant plans, are you, Weasley?" drawled Draco. "Want to swop?"
"No, no you can't swop," said Hermione, looking rather cross. "I've got it all worked out. It's logical. It makes sense this way."
"Heaven knows I don't care," Draco said. "Who's on for tonight?"
"Er…you and Ron."
When Harry asked Ron the next morning how it had gone, Ron reported that Potter hadn't appeared and that he and Malfoy had not brawled at all. They had woken each other (to change watch and administer doses) by kicking, so they didn't have to even talk to each other.
"We put Silencio over whoever was sleeping, in case they snored or something," said Ron, looking pleased with himself for coming up with that.
"But Ron, what if you needed to cast a spell?" said Hermione.
"Whenever we woke the other one up, we'd end the charm so they could talk."
"And you both actually did it? Every time?" said Harry. "You two are practically chummy now, aren't you?"
"Heaven forbid I should ever be chummy with a Weasley," said Malfoy, who had just stopped by.
He stopped by again at lunch, and then at dinner. And then on Monday they walked as far toward their different classes as they could together, and they saw him again at lunch.
Sometimes Crabbe and Goyle hulked behind him, but mostly he was on his own. To Harry's bewilderment, the more time he spent with them, the more they began to stray away from talking about the Stone and rotations, and to start talking about classes, and homework, and food, and Quidditch.
Everyone stayed over the Easter holidays, because they had so much homework. On Easter Sunday, Malfoy strolled by the table at supper and dropped a handful of chocolate eggs on the table.
"Mum sent them by third post," he said. "She already sent me about a million by first and second post, and I thought, heaven knows you lot have chocolate rarely enough."
"Er, thanks?" said Harry.
"You know, you really ought to think about what I said, Snape," Draco added. "Would it be so bad to use It to make a little cash?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably. Malfoy had brought that up a lot during their discussions, and Harry had to admit it was tempting. He remembered having to buy his robes second-hand, and finding a lot of things in his trunk that he hadn't been able to afford for himself because Hagrid had felt sorry for him and bought them behind his back. Harry's father had apparently had almost nothing, and his mother only a modest amount; he'd carefully counted the Galleons in the vault and divided it into seven (the amount of years until he'd be able to get a job) and the result was mildly depressing.
"Thank you for the chocolate, Malfoy," said Hermione loudly. "It's us on guard duty tonight. Come on."
"I'm not eating it," said Ron in a low voice as Hermione and Draco walked away. "I bet it's poisoned. Why's he even spending so much time with a blood-traitor, a Muggle-born, and a…whatever you are, Harry?"
"I dunno," said Harry. "I don't think it's for the company."
Going by his conversation, Draco seemed to think he was doing them a great favour by bestowing his presence and discourse upon lowly commoners such as they. If another Slytherin was anywhere within earshot, he even outright mocked them. But he kept stopping by, they kept sort-of walking together, he kept not starting fights on watch, he kept he stared sitting sort of near them in Potions, and they kept having civil if awkward conversations.
Wednesday was Harry's and Draco's watch. At ten minutes to midnight, Harry kicked Draco (they were all thoroughly bruised by now). When Draco kicked back, Harry took the silencing charm off him and headed up toward Astronomy.
"Go be a star," said Draco.
Harry made his way up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. As he waited behind the last door for his hands to materialise completely, he suddenly realised what Draco had said.
"Go be a star." That had been a joke.
Talking about schoolwork, and sharing sweets, and telling jokes?
Harry checked his hands one last time and entered Astronomy class with a grin on his face.