It was two weeks short of Halloween and cheap, plastic decorations had started to pop up all over Muggle shops. Draco's had noticed a few, sad looking skeletons hanging from people's doors, white cobwebs stretched over bushes and the occasional lone, mossy tombstone here and there.

Without magic, it all felt kind of pointless in its eerie stillness. Surely, nothing so clearly fake could really be considered spooky. The gloomy, autumnal sky did more for the overall atmosphere than the tacky spiders Tesco was selling by the dozen.

Draco wondered how he had never noticed, while in Hogwarts, how depressing October could really get.

During her latest shopping, Granger had bought two fat, orange pumpkins, declaring that it was sort of tradition, albeit none of them seemed to know their way around a carving knife. They still sat, untouched, on the counter, only serving as a reminder to Weasley of how much he was missing out on his mother's seasonal cooking.

"The soups!" He moaned, passing Harry a handful of the carrots he had been peeling.

Despite Harry's proficiency in the kitchen and the fact that neither Weasley nor Draco were terrible cooks in their own rights, daily chores combined with long stretches of pointless research and spell practice, were starting to wear everybody's nerves thin.

"It's not like you normally get to eat your mum's cooking at this time of year, anyway!" Harry snapped, dicing the vegetable into irregular shapes, knife dangerously close to his hand. He was still sullen about the previous day when, mind distracted with thoughts of the Hallows, he had ruined lunch by adding three times the salt.

"Merlin! Christ, here, gimme…" Draco said, stopping the blade from slicing one of Harry's fingers just millimetres from the nail. He took the knife and pushed the other boy gently away. "We don't need blood in today's dinner, thank you. Go and chill the fuck out, or something. I've got this."

Harry stomped out of the kitchen, leaving an air of awkwardness in his wake.

"Well, I mean, Hogwarts food was great, too." Weasley mumbled, looking mildly guilty but too stubborn to actually shut his goddamn mouth. "And wasn't it actually nice when we could just sit down and everything would appear in front of our eyes. No washing up to do… no grocery lists to think about."

Draco sighed, privately agreeing.

"I do miss having a live-in house elf."

"Don't let Hermione hear you saying that." Weasley warned. "Speaking of which, she was really impressed with the tips you gave her about the pepper up potion. She said it cut brewing time by a third. Not that I like having her all alone in Grimmauld Place, really, but she is adamant she can work much better away from all the testos-something. Whatever that means." Weasley scratched his nose quizzically, vanishing the pile of vegetable peels with a flick of his wand.

"It probably means that all your idle chatting can give her a headache. I can relate." Draco replied, distractedly. He had been a little afraid to share the suggestions scribbled as margin notes all over Snape's old textbook, but had ultimately decided it was worth it. Some of the spells, like Muffilato, were already familiar and he knew they could do with any help possible. He just had to hope that the others would chalk up his suspiciously deep knowledge to his upbringing and natural aptitude for potion making.

It was still a mystery why Snape hadn't chosen to share his finding with the community. Surely, it would have been a more lucrative endeavour than an underpaid teaching position he didn't even seem to enjoy all that much.

If Draco had the kind of time and confidence to ask the other man, he probably would have. As things were, though, the relationship between him and Snape was already strained by the events of the previous year. Draco needed him, and it wasn't a position he particularly liked to be in. It really wouldn't help to be questioning or antagonising the older wizard more than it was strictly necessary.

Thanks to his accidental outburst, Draco had finally figured out how the parchment Snape had sent him worked. It was a fairly clever trick, which simply required him to state his own identity, provided that the statement was a truthful one. It felt stupid to be writing his own name in every correspondence, but it assured both parties that they were communicating with the intended person.

Still afraid to reveal much on paper, Draco had been vague and scanty in his messages. He knew full well that Snape's patience was probably running extremely low, but his options were limited if he wanted to meet face to face.

He couldn't leave the house for long without alerting his three housemates, nor he could tell them about his intentions to meet with someone they still believe to be an enemy. Even as desperate as they were getting, trusting Snape was not something he could expect of them, especially not Harry.

Draco himself wasn't really sure he could.

So, he was just biding his time, hoping to come up with a plan before Snape lost it enough to try and track him down.

The thought of the horcrux, hidden still unharmed inside a pair of Harry's ugliest socks, was enough to remind him that it was, hopefully, all going to be worth it.

"I haven't found much more about the Hallows in Sirius' library." Granger said, during dinner. She tore a piece of bread to help push the sauce on her fork, looking pensieve. "And, if I have to be completely honest, I think we might be wasting our time. We haven't made enough progress with the Horcruxes to be thinking of anything else."

"Well," Harry retorted, taking advantage of her mouthful of food to defend his stance on the topic. "If Dumbledore decided to leave you that book, it certainly wasn't because of Babbity Rabbity. He wanted us to know about the Hallows. My invisibility cloak, Ron said he has never seen anything like it…"

He gestured towards his friend, who grimaced in response. The cloak was still a bit of a sore subject between the two, as Weasley believed Harry shouldn't have shared all his secrets with Draco just yet. He also hated to take sides in any argument that involved his precious girlfriend, so he just shrugged noncommittally.

Harry huffed. "I don't see any of you coming up with helpful suggestions. You said Dumbledore believed the Horcruxes to be something important for Vol-Riddle. The ring was a family heirloom, the diary was what it was. The locket belonged to Slytherin himself so, as we discussed, it would make sense if he chose other things from the founders… Like the cup in that memory or whatever. The snake is another probable one, but it's not like it ever leaves his side… It looks to me like we keep circling the problem. Aside from setting this place aflame with a spell none of us knows how to control, we also have no idea how to get rid of the one horcrux we have. Please, do share if you can think of anything better to do with our time!"

"Maybe… the graveyard?" Suggested Weasley, looking uncertain and a little afraid.

"The graveyard where his father's bones are buried? The father he hated?" Harry said, unimpressed. "Sure, the obvious choice when thinking of a safe hiding place for one of the precious pieces of your soul."

"It makes more sense than Hogwarts." Weasley scoffed.

"It really does not!"

"You have to admit, Harry, that it's a bit hard to believe he could have entered Hogwarts long enough to build up all the protection he needed to hide an horcrux. Think about it, Hogwarts is really quite impenetrable." Granger said, cautiously.

"Hogwarts was his only real home! An important place for him, maybe the most important." Harry protested, stabbing his fork through a piece of meat Draco had overcooked. "But, fine, suit yourself. We can go and check the damn graveyard and maybe we'll find the… what was it? Ah, yeah, Ravenclaw's diadem happily perched on top of one of the statues." His face was pale and haunted, in contrast with his brash tone.

The image jolted something in Draco's memory. "Wait, what did you just say?" He asked, his own cutlery falling with a clatter onto the table.

Harry looked at him with a frown. "I really doubt the diadem, or tiara, or whatever the fuck it is would be so easy to find. It would make sense for it to be the remaining horcrux, though, as he didn't really get his hands on anything of Gryffindor. The sword and the hat…"

"No, not that!" Draco said, waving a hand dismissively. "I have seen it, I think."

"You have seen what?"

"The diadem!" He replied, his conviction growing with each passing second.

"Like in a book?" Granger asked, sounding out of breath.

"No. Merlin, do you have a picture of what it looks like?" Draco said, massaging his temples to try to put the image in his head into focus.

She scrambled from her chair and returned a few minutes later, carrying a heavy book. He frantically searched through the pages of Hogwarts, A History until he came to the picture of an elaborate silver tiara with an oval, blue stone in the middle.

Under their shocked gazes, he breathed. "That's it. It IS at Hogwarts."

"What!?" Came three incredulous yells, voices high with excitement and trepidation. Draco stared at the page for a while longer, stunned. He felt a hysterical laugh bubbling up his throat and gulped it down before it could escape. The story about to come out of his mouth was almost too absurd to be anything but a fever dream and, yet, he knew it to be true. What were the chances?

"I've seen it! In the Room of Hidden things. It's- it's a function of the Room of Requirements, I found it thanks to your little defence group in Fifth year. It's a place where you can hide anything and you can be sure that no one would be able to find it if they don't already know exactly what they are looking for. And, even then, the room it's a maze. There is so much shit in there you could get lost for days. I needed it for… Well, one day I was getting really frustrated and I started throwing around an old, deflated quaffle I had found and it knocked down a few chairs and stuff."

He paused, locking eyes with Harry's wide ones.

"When I went to retrieve it, it had landed next to a broken desk and one of the drawers had fallen open. Inside there was this pale, silver crown, exactly like this one." He said, pointing at the picture with emphasis. "There was this ugly bust of a wizard there, that sort of looked like Goyle's father. I- I put it on his head, not even sure why really. I was quite stressed, and it made me laugh for a minute. Anyway…" He said, trailing off.

The room erupted in a cacophony of collective excitement. Harry beamed at him, looking a little smug and quite relieved, like Draco had just handed him the solution and validation he had been waiting for on a silver platter.

Weasley kept muttering "This is huge", under his breath.

Only Granger still seemed a little unsure. "Hogwarts is not the easiest place to get into, especially now…"

"We'll think about it later, Hermione!" Her boyfriend said, grabbing her hand with a goofy grin. "Now it's time to celebrate. We should consider my proposition to visit my family at some point, before we actually have to put all our energies into this. They haven't seen you in so long, Harry."

Draco's attention perched up at that.

A few days before, Weasley had suggested briefly visiting his family. It was quite safe, considering the tons of precautions they had taken, and it made sense to do it before their search for horcruxes turned active and, therefore, a lot more dangerous. Weasley knew that, with the reality of their mission, it could be his last chance. Draco couldn't really fault a man for missing his family.

No one in Weasley's clan knew of Draco's involvement at all. Together with Lupin, they had deemed it safer on all fronts to keep it between them five. There were too many factors to consider, like the safety of his own parents if rumours of his deflection reached the wrong ears. Only his devotion to Harry and his minimal contact with other wizards had saved Creevey from being obliviated and, even so, Granger had used a simplified Langlock spell to prevent him from uttering Draco's name.

This presented the perfect occasion for Draco to be alone long enough for him to get in touch and, hopefully, meet Snape in person. If only he could persuade Harry to go.

To his surprise, Harry didn't seem to need any persuasion. "Yeah, okay." He said, nodding resolutely as if he had just won an internal argument against himself.

Weasley blinked, clearly not expecting such compliance. He straightened himself, leaning forward, the front legs of his chair hitting the floor with a clunk. "Seriously?" He asked, levelling Harry with an eager look.

"Yeah, I suppose. It'd be good to see everyone. Do you mind?" He said, turning to Draco. There were no questions whether he would have to stay behind, their supplies of Polyjuice already running low.

Draco tried to keep his face from looking too enthusiastic. "I can manage one afternoon without you, Potter." He replied, gruffly.

Harry rolled his eyes, but they were twinkling in a way that made Draco feel warm.

"Don't worry about him, Harry. He can always go to Grimmauld and Kreacher will be delighted to keep him company." Weasley said, hinting at the fact that the elf seemed to count the hours between Draco's visits, always with a treat at the ready to welcome him back.

Draco flipped him off, and the twat chuckled, before scrunching up his stupid eyebrows in thought. "You know what? When this thing between you and Harry blows, I think you should give poor Kreacher a chance."

"Fuck off, Weasley. And, who said things between me and Harry are going to blow? I plan to marry him one day, if only just to spite you." Draco replied in a bored drawl, like casually discussing marriage was something he often did.

Harry sighed, loudly. "However romantic this proposition sounds, I sadly have to decline. Come on, Hermione, we have some pumpkins to carve while they make eyes at each other."

Once alone, Weasley smiled sweetly at him, before collecting the dirty plates. "You know, once you and Kreacher are together you could ask him to move in, so he can help with the chores."

Draco hated him.

Draco stared at the goofy face Harry had wonkily carved onto one of the pumpkins and then back at the clock. It was nearing two hours and, according to plans, the others would be back soon.

Not nearly enough time for him to even think of meeting Snape. The possibility of his former Professor sending him a deadly curse via parchment out of frustration was getting more likely by the minute.

Damn living with a bunch of Gryffindor that were historically incapable of letting a man scheme in peace.

As if on cue, he heard the front door opening. He grabbed his cup of tea and walked out into the hall.

Harry looked dishevelled, like someone who had just walked miles against the wind. He shook his hair, droplets of water falling all over the carpet, and hung his coat up, smiling when he caught sight of Draco.

"Hey!" He greeted, pushing his sopping fringe off his glasses.

Before Draco could ask any questions there was a muffled pop and the door opened again, revealing the equally windswept figures of Weasley and Granger.

"Whoa, the weather truly is terrible." She said, pushing past her boyfriend to disrobe of her drenched outer-layers. She blew hot hair into her clasped hands and bounced on the spot to try and regain feelings in her feet.

Weasley kicked his shoes off, unwrapping a long, mustard scarf from around his neck that Draco was sure he didn't have when they had left.

"Did you morons walk the way back?" He asked, raising one eyebrow at the state of them.

"Of course not." Granger said, as if the notion was rather silly and she was not soaked in what looked like a storm worth of water. "But the apparition point at… where we were- was still far enough from the place for us to get quite wet. It's pouring."

"It doesn't look too bad to me." Draco said, peering outside at the light grey sky and the soft, misty rain that was gently falling.

"That's what happens when you can travel hundreds of miles in a split second." Harry replied, casting a drying charm over the three of them. "I thought you were meant to be smart, honey."

Draco ignored both the jibe and the sarcastic pet name, and pulled him into a brief kiss that effectively shut him up.

Weasley groaned in the background.

"How did it go? And what's that?" Draco asked, noticing the thick, slightly wet book Harry had just retrieved from his coat pocket.

"It was good. Not everybody was there, though. We are thinking of going back next week." Harry replied, passing him the book with a disgusted frown.

Momentarily distracted, Draco scanned the cover, from which a sombre looking Dumbledore stared back, no hint of the benevolent smile he often wore at Hogwarts. He seemed almost annoyed.

"The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, by Rita Skeeter." Draco read aloud.

"Your old pal, there." Said Weasley, once Draco had flipped the book over to look at the synopsys. Skeeter's eyes glinted maliciously from behind rhinestone glasses, as her picture self smirked at the room.

"Vile woman." Granger hissed and, despite his shared past with the journalist, Draco couldn't help but agree. "I'm not sure why you decided to bring that book back, Harry. A whole pile of rubbish, if you ask me."

"I know." Harry shrugged. "But I am mentioned in there and I kind of want to know what she had to say about me. I'm sure she has managed quite the bullshit about the year I've spent abroad. Considering I am still not officially "found"…" He continued, putting air quotes around the last word. "I'm certain there are a few rumours in that book on how I cowardly left the country to go fuck off somewhere warm and sunny, while people were dying..."

"Well, technically you did fuck off somewhere warm and sunny." Weasley joked, with the same far away, longing look he had when Harry told them all about his year in California. "But, honestly mate, that thing belongs in the bin. You can read it, if you really want to… I just think it's a waste of time. You knew the real Dumbledore, not that- that bitch's version."

"I didn't really know him all that much. Not as well as I could have, had I spent last year in Hogwarts. Those lessons you had with him, it was meant to be me."

"He never really talked about himself during those lessons. Just about Y-You-Know-Who's past. And you, Harry. I think, in some ways, he had the inkling- or maybe hope- that you were safe. He did care about you. A lot, you know." Granger said, gently squeezing his hand.

Harry still looked a bit lost and Draco couldn't help feeling partially responsible.

"I was just having some tea." He said, sounding just as awkward as he felt. "It's still hot, if anyone wants some." He tossed the book on the entryway table and made for the kitchen, before Harry stopped him.

"No, thanks. I was actually just thinking of having a shower… and maybe I can help you with your hair dye, after, if you'd like?"

It was only later on, when Draco sat on a stool in the bathroom, Harry's gentle hands massaging dark brown dye onto his scalp, that he remembered something.

"Did you say you are planning on visiting the Weasleys again soon?" He asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah." Harry replied, a small frown on his face while he surveyed his handiwork in the mirror. He tucked in a strayaway tuft of Draco's fringe, making sure to coat the roots in the colouring paste before adding it to the rest. "Mrs Weasley's birthday is on the 30th and everybody is going to try and be there. Give her the occasional day of normality, you know. Ron wants to go in the afternoon and then have dinner together. We might be gone for a while, sorry."

Draco closed his eyes, melting in the relaxing feeling of Harry's touch. "I don't mind." He sighed, contentedly.

He finally had a date for his meeting with Snape.