Unlikely Beginnings

Today was a good day simply for the fact that they had Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was the first class since Professor Lupin had come back, though technically he was still in the castle being locked in his office, 'back' referred to his reverting back to human form after the full moon. Remus had returned to Hogwarts to continue teaching the class in their sixth year, much to the delight of just about all of the students, with the only exception of Severus Snape. Some still had parents that were wary about the werewolf, but they soon felt differently after hearing so many good things about the man.

Remus had taken time to consider the offer from Dumbledore, but after giving it some thought, he had agreed. The initial apprehension faded quickly, and he was well at home now in the old castle. He was glad to be back, as well, and he came down from his office and smiled at his first class of the day: Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh years. His smile almost faltered as he noted a few absent faces, and he frowned to himself as he set a large text down on his desk. He greeted his class, and they chimed back a greeting in return before there was a sharp knock on the door.

Everyone's attention was turned to the sound, and Remus picked up his wand and waved it at the door, opening it. "I'm sorry I'm late, sir," Lavender pleaded, breathing rapidly and clutching her books to her chest, though her hair looked absolutely great. Hermione would bet that's why the other girl was late, though she hadn't even noticed before now.

"Well, come in, then! Come in." He gestured to the girl, and then waved the door shut behind her. Lavender walked straight to her seat and sat down, and Lupin started the lesson for today. It was already much better than having extra hours of Charms, and that sentiment seemed to be shared by everyone, even the Slytherins. Ron had taken his usual seat next to Hermione, and that left a space open on the other side of Hermione where Harry usually sat. Ron had already told her that Harry hadn't been in the dormitory that morning, or down in the common room after he'd made it downstairs and looked around.

He'd asked Hermione if she knew, but she was just as confused as he was, which was definitely saying something. When they didn't see Harry at breakfast, either, they had started to become worried. Hermione suggested that maybe he was just hiding in another part of the castle and wasn't in the mood to attend any classes just yet. She had to agree he did have enough on his shoulders to deserve a break, but she didn't agree with his choice of missing classes, especially with NEWTs coming up and all.

Ron had wondered why he'd want to miss a perfectly good day. To begin with, they'd basically made a trade in the staff; Snape buggered off and Lupin was back. Defense Against the Dark Arts, and no Potions, what's not to like about a day like that? He still couldn't help but be worried for more practical reasons, though. After class had gotten underway, Lupin caught Hermione's eye, and she had to shrug, not knowing what she could say, other than she didn't know herself where Harry was.

When Hermione had finished the first part of her assignment they'd been given, she sat back in her chair and looked to Ron. He was still working, and she really didn't want to disturb him when he was actually focused on it, for once. She frowned, though, realizing that the class had been remarkably quiet thus far. Looking over Ron's shoulder at the other side of the room, she surveyed the Slytherins, and noticed something strange. She nudged Ron, and he took a moment to finish his sentence, holding up a finger to her until he was done. "What?" he whispered to her.

"Notice anyone missing?" she hinted, whispering as well as she didn't want to disturb the class over something that might be simply coincidental. Hermione pointed back over to the Slytherins still engaged in their work. Ron shifted in his chair, and ticked off names in his head. Goyle was glaring into his book as he read, trying to find the answers to the questions. Crabbe was about an inch away from his parchment as he wrote, and no one else seemed out of the ordinary either.

Wait, he thought. He'd looked straight to Crabbe and Goyle, but why did he usually do that? To look at Malfoy, who was currently no where to be seen. Ron turned back to Hermione and said, "Maybe they cozied up together somewhere and fell asleep last night." Ron made a disgusted face before he went serious. "What do you think happened?"

Hermione was about to comment, but Professor Lupin turned his attention back towards their side of the room, an eyebrow raised at the two students, still wondering himself where Harry had gotten off to. Ron shook his head and raised his hands in a small, helpless gesture, letting him know that they hadn't figured anything out yet. Lupin nodded his head slightly, but made no other further attempts at covert conversations.

The rest of the class was uneventful until Lupin asked that Ron and Hermione stay behind. All of the students, save the two Gryffindors, filed out of the room and onto their next class. Ron and Hermione shut their books and watched as Lupin took a blank piece of parchment from a folder and scribbled something down on it before walking over to his students. "Alright, I suppose you know why you're here. You really have no idea where Harry is?" he asked the two seated students. He felt like he was threatening them by standing in front of their desks like this, even if he wasn't even terribly tall.

"No, sir," Hermione said, clearly wishing that wasn't the truth. "He wasn't found in the dormitory this morning, and we didn't look very far before we came here. He didn't show up for breakfast either." Hermione's worry showed clear on her face, and Ron nodded beside her in agreement. "We haven't a clue."

Lupin nodded to himself, looking down at the table, and frowned slightly as he thought. Before he could ask anything more, Ron started to speak. "He's been acting strange the last few days, too. We're really worried about him." Hermione looked at Ron curiously; she knew he wasn't happy about having Harry disappear like this, but she thought he was still a bit peeved at the recent revelations about Harry's more private aspect of his life.

"What about Mr. Malfoy, do you know where he is?" Lupin asked, trying to sound casual, and not prying, though he couldn't help his eyebrows rising slightly in curiosity. He didn't think they knew anything about that, but he'd seen Hermione point that fact out to Ron that Draco was absent as well. The rest of the class didn't seem to notice too much, using the newfound silence to work on their assignments.

"No," they both said automatically and in unison, to boot. Lupin gave barely a hint of a frown at them, and nodded slowly. Hermione looked at Ron for a moment, but he stared ahead at their teacher, waiting for Lupin to say something more, to offer some type of help, perhaps.

"I don't think we need to say anything just yet. If he doesn't show up by tonight, let me know, and I'll go to the Headmaster." Ron seemed to sigh inaudibly, glad to hear he was going to help do something about this. It wasn't even lunch, but the looming sense that Harry had gotten himself in trouble was starting to build like a cloud over their heads. Lupin felt it, too, and he dearly hoped Harry would show up. He felt a need to look out for the boy after certain events that felt all too recent and raw as painful memories came back to him.

Remus cleared his throat as the two teens nodded their acceptance before they stood. "Oh," he said, just as the two were about to walk through the door, "here." He handed to Ron, since he was closer, the note he'd written for them, excusing them for being late, as he'd kept them back. They said good bye, and left for their next class. He knew his would be there any minute, and he wanted to clear his head before the second years would arrive.

He knew they knew more than they were letting on, in regards to Draco Malfoy, in particular, but he was sure they were telling the truth about Harry. If something was going on, and it was something other than a couple of boys individually playing hookey, they seemed to be in on it together. What those two boys would possibly be doing together that didn't involve fists and bruises, he couldn't fathom at the moment, though there were a few unlikely possibilities forming in his mind.

They hadn't known who else to tell, and knew they could trust Remus the most of all their teachers with information about Harry's wellbeing. It seemed Ron was a bit ticked off still, despite his evident worry; Hermione thought that was why he never said anything or was too worried until he noticed Malfoy was gone, too. Hermione was still just trying to hope Harry was just hiding somewhere in the castle. Though, preferably, in her opinion, without Draco. Then, she couldn't ignore the fact that Draco was, indeed, missing, as well. They didn't have to say anything about that to Lupin; he seemed to already have his own suspicions.

@>*~

They'd been traveling for the last few hours straight, and Draco was pretty sure Harry had no idea where the hell they were at the moment. After they'd left the castle grounds, Draco had stopped Harry and told him that they should follow the road down to Hogsmeade to begin with, and if they wanted to cut across somewhere after that, it was fine with him. Of course, he'd definitely need new boots after all of this, but that was later.

He was surprised that Harry had enough wits about himself to know it was a better idea to travel at night, because, honestly, they're still a Malfoy and Harry Potter. Not too good to be seen in public like that. Draco definitely didn't want anyone to see them together, for the simple fact that it would damage his reputation if it wasn't slowly controlled until the point where they could be seen together, and not in a fight of some sort. Besides that fact, Draco knew that he was followed when he was out of school.

Technically, it wasn't 'followed', but it was bloody annoying, Draco thought. His father had set some orders to be carried out should he be sent to Azkaban, and one of them was to keep track of Draco. He'd known about it, but, first of all, he didn't think his father was going to be caught, and second, he didn't think it would be so frustrating to have a silent chaperone hiding in the dark everywhere he went. Well, it was. Even though they didn't know he was outside of school, he didn't want to take any chances; they'd keep out of sight.

Neither of them would have had to worry about laying low if they weren't going on this ridiculous escapade in the first place, but that was Harry, Draco supposed. If he didn't do that, he'd be right boring, then, wouldn't he? Can't have that in a celebrity. His father would have given him a sharp knock to the back of his head for being so impulsive and simply acquiescing, going along with Harry, but Draco didn't care. His father wasn't that type, and his mother seemed to think that it was just a way for Draco to be defiant, and still retain his dominant posture with things, but still taking control.

As long as he did what his father wanted over all, he was free to do what he wanted, so much as he didn't interfere with things that didn't involve him. He really didn't want to think about his father, despite the direction his mind kept pushing for. Even though he'd had more than a year of not being dragged along to some evil function or another, he missed Lucius; though not particularly the parties.

The reason he'd thought of his father to begin with, was because he was trying to recall the most he could about the few times he'd been taken to Durmstrang. Lucius had considered sending Draco there instead of Hogwarts, but that would seem suspicious, with the Ministry watching for misbehavior in all elite who were known to be... less than honest in their dealings. It came down to Draco's education, and public appearances, and a compromise was reached; Draco would go to Hogwarts, and Lucius would teach him all he needed to know of the Dark Arts.

Since he'd get enough training at home, and the addition of keeping up tradition and whatnot, Draco was sent to Hogwarts, and told to be sorted into Slytherin. He wondered what his father would have done if the Sorting Hat hadn't placed him in Slytherin, and decided he was too tired to imagine all the horrid things his father would do to whoever was responsible for it. Ahead of him, Harry was still trudging along, though Draco could tell he'd slowed considerably from the time they started.

He still didn't think Harry had a clue where he was going, and Draco was dead on his feet. "Harry," he panted, after jogging the short way to get out of the open. They'd followed the edge of the woods, and they were starting to curve away from the road that was adjacent to them. The landscape was rapidly changing, starting to become more hilled. In the distance they could see a town just the other side of the largest ridge, and Draco decided for them, not caring what Harry's opinion would be. He'd punch him unconscious if Harry didn't agree. "We have to stop for the night."

Draco leaned over, hands on his knees holding him up, his breath almost fully returned. He prided himself for being in shape when all he did for activity was the occasional Quidditch game at school, though there certainly were an obscene amount of stairs at Hogwarts, and add that to what he had to deal with at home, he got enough exercise. He watched as Harry turned around, only a meter or two in front of him. He was still panting, and he looked at Draco before he started falling forward.

Panicking as he watched Harry's eyes roll back in his head, all he could do was simply watch as Harry hit the ground, face first. He fought the sudden urge to laugh at the other boy, and moved to haul him over to the nearest tree. Draco's footing slipped as he got close to the tree, and he landed on a knee, and pulled Harry the rest of the way like that, shuffling backwards as he went. Leaning up against the tree himself, Draco set Harry beside him. It would be rather suspicious to drag, or carry, Harry over to the town and find a place to stay for the rest of the night and all of tomorrow.

Or, they could stay in the woods, which would be drearily cold and uncomfortable, or they could suffer the odd looks and find a hotel. Draco had money, but none of it in Muggle currency, since it was very rarely that he was in a Muggle town and didn't know where he could go to exchange. He supposed he could pawn his watch, or his Slytherin brooch to get a ride far enough to find a place where he knew wizards would be

They were quite a ways from London, but they needed to find somewhere to change his money or to use it how it was. Draco began to feel very alone as he sat with his back against the tree, listening to the faint sounds drifting from the town over the hill. Harry had slid sideways towards him a while ago, but Draco couldn't bring himself to care, rather enjoying the steady weight against him, keeping him a bit warm. He'd rather Harry was leaning against his other side now, though; warm it up, too, you know.

Harry's head lolled onto his shoulder, and Draco felt oddly comforted, even if he knew Harry was half unconscious and asleep, too much so to care that he was sitting in a cold, damp forest. Draco lifted his arm slightly, as it was trapped behind Harry's body, and settled his hand on Harry's hip, making sure he didn't fall the other way, despite the fact that Harry was completely leaning on him now. Merlin, he hoped Harry didn't snore. He'd never be able to spend the night with the other boy if he did. At least not without rectifying it in some way, like holding a pillow over the other boy's face until he woke up, and Draco rolled back over, shoving said pillow under his head and going to sleep himself.

With his other hand, Draco pulled out his wand, intending to make a fire to keep them warm. There was a rather large beetle on his arm, and he sneered at it before shaking his arm vigorously to get the insect off. Suddenly, he heard a loud bang, and he jumped, tightening his hold on Harry when a bright light shone before fading, amazingly revealing a huge, triple decker bus. It had appeared out of thin air right in front of them in the small clearing between the woods, the hills and the road.

"Oi! You coming?"

@>*~

After Transfiguration, Harry still hadn't shown up, and Ron and Hermione had decided they'd go and check a few places that Harry might be. He might have simply forgotten about classes and was sitting in the library looking for something in particular; even though that was Hermione's forte, Harry did, on occasion, have something strange to look up and wouldn't rest until he found it. That was why, during lunch, the two of them had ventured to the library to start their search.

They knew Harry could be sitting in the Restricted Section right now, but they didn't think he was that stupid to do it during the day, unless he fell asleep under his cloak, or something. Ron and Hermione had almost scanned every aisle in the library until they came to the last corner, and they walked without hesitation into the least used corner of the library. "Oh," Hermione started, though that was as far as she got before her brain stopped and decided to simply stare at the people in front of her.

It certainly seemed like Harry from behind, though initially, she expected to see blond hair, and the lack of it startled her. It wasn't Harry, and they both found out just who it was when the two dark-haired boys in the dusty aisle turned around, having been caught. "Neville?" Ron asked incredulously when the other boy turned around, followed by an even more astonished, "Zabini?"

The two had pulled apart, having been in the middle of a great snog, and Blaise licked his lips, looking straight at Hermione. She averted her eyes and told her brain to forget that image, along with the one of seeing the boys kissing, but it refused her demand, and filed them away somewhere in the back, instead. Meanwhile, Neville's mouth was working, trying to find something to say, and he sighed defeatedly, unable to think of an excuse when he looked back to the Slytherin.

Blaise stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned, shrugging his shoulders in a delicate roll, starting to adopt his Slytherin attitude before he could fully stop himself. He hated playing the part, but whatever. Ron had crossed his arms over his chest, having a recurring episode of a recent, hurtful experience. He glared at Blaise, and then turned around and walked out of the aisle. Hermione winced as she heard a chair scrape across the stone floor a few moments later, and gave an apologetic smile to the other boys. Ron sat down with an audible flump, and waited for the others to come and sit down, knowing that's just what Hermione would do.

"Ron," Neville began as he neared the table, Blaise following just behind him. "There's something I should tell you." They pulled out two chairs on the opposite side of the table, and Hermione walked around to sit down beside Ron.

"What? That you're skipping off all day to play with the enemy, too? Sorry, mate, I think I already figured that out," he snapped, anger rising. Hermione rested her head in a hand propped on the table, and waited for Neville to continue. Ron wouldn't calm down right now even if she tried to get him to, so she just let him fume quietly to the side.

Neville pretty much ignored Ron's comments, and looked to Blaise, who nodded his agreement before Neville turned back to his classmates. "We know where Harry went," he said sheepishly. He supposed he should have gone straight to the two of them when he'd found out, not stayed to make out with his boyfriend in the back of the library, and he felt a bit bad for that. It got both of their attention, though, and Ron seemed to forget about what he'd seen, and said, and gave frustrated gestures for Neville to hurry up and tell them.

"How do you know?" Hermione asked, still confused at how Neville of all people would know. Harry wouldn't have told Neville, would he?

"I'm Draco's roommate," Blaise said, and Hermione realized this was the first thing the boy had said. "Harry came into the dungeons and straight into our room. Draco thought I was asleep, but I heard it all." Hermione's jaw was slack, mind boggling at how much of his mind Harry would have to have lost to go walking into the core of Slytherin territory, and into their dorms. How did he get inside?

"So, where'd they go?" Ron asked, eyeing the Slytherin warily. He'd never really had much to do with Zabini in the past, just being in a couple classes with him, but that was about it. They didn't know a thing about him, other than what he'd just mentioned. On the outside, he seemed a bit quiet, obviously, since he'd never stuck out in their minds as someone loud and obnoxious, like some other mentionable Slytherins.

"The Castle of Durmstrang," Blaise said, and watched the shock and confusion wash over the Gryffindors' faces. It didn't give him a kick, but he had to admit that Weasley did look a bit disgruntled; he was just telling them what he knew, and the only reason he was doing that, was because they were Neville's friends. He'd told Neville because he knew Harry was his friend, and knew he wouldn't blab to the whole school about anything in regards to Draco, since, well, look at themselves.

Hermione and Ron still hadn't said anything, though Hermione looked a bit more scared now than confused. "Why?" she asked, sounding absolutely like someone he shouldn't mess with, but since Blaise was going to answer her anyway, it didn't matter. He knew very well that tone of voice doesn't mean there would be much behind it to back it up.

"That's what we don't know," he said, with another shrug of his shoulders. "Something to do with Snape, I heard, but otherwise I dunno. They seemed to be talking about something they'd already talked about, and I didn't catch on. I didn't even know Harry was who he was seeing."

"They're not 'seeing', they're just fucking," Ron said crudely, Harry's betrayal in his eyes still too raw of a wound to take this very well. Hermione flinched, and so did Neville; she just hoped Ron wouldn't put his foot in his mouth. "I don't know how they could even stand to look at each other for an extended period of time, let alone snog. I'd never touch a Slytherin." Hermione sighed quietly to herself. "Yuck."

Blaise didn't say anything, just stared back at Ron in amazement at the open hostility towards his 'kind'. He couldn't help but start to sink in on himself; not that he was embarrassed about being who he was, he was quite proud, but just because he hated how he was treated because of it. He cleared his throat softly, looking down at the table, unable to look at the flaring hatred on the red-haired boy's face. Ron suddenly got a very startled look on his face, as if he didn't realize what he'd just said until it was too late. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking down at the table, as well.

"It's okay," Blaise said. "I wouldn't touch many of them myself, but I know what you meant." Ron looked up at him, and he clearly felt bad. Blaise had never done anything to him, other than plain association to Draco, but even that was a bit far fetched, even in Ron's mind. "It's okay."

Ron nodded, but still looked a bit ashamed of what he'd said, though he was warring on that in his mind. He'd said what he thought, and that much was true, but he'd honestly never 'met' a Slytherin before. His only experience was with Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy, and he supposed he had a prejudiced opinion because of that. Zabini seemed like an alright guy, though, and Neville certainly seemed to like him.

Neville coughed obviously, clearly new to interrupting a moment between people. The three's attention was drawn to him. "Well, we've got some homework to finish. I'll see you guys later." He smiled at his friends, and Blaise started to stand from his chair, and gave a small smile, that seemed to come off as more of a smirk on the left side, but he tried. Hermione did seem like an okay girl, though a little over-zealous on her school enthusiasm, he thought as he made his way back to where he and Neville had been before they snuck off to make out.

Hermione waved at the two of them, smiling back at Neville as he left, and still wondering about his apparent boyfriend. She and Ron were left sitting at the table, listening to the boys' retreating footsteps. Maybe if Neville and Blaise could make it work, Harry and Draco weren't so bad of a pair. Ron looked over at Hermione, and could just tell she was thinking the same thing as him, though most likely in a more positive manner.

He knew he might be overreacting, but for the love of Merlin, was everyone going insane? He had to admit, when it came down to it, and all he was left in bed thinking about before he fell asleep was what was bothering him, he did have to admit to himself that the two did have things in common. Even though, at first glance, they were seemingly on the opposite ends of the scale on just about everything.

Ron had kept his eye on Zabini when he was sitting there in front of him, and they seemed to be a good match. Their personalities really did go well together, even though neither Hermione nor Ron knew Blaise from a hole in the ground. If it came down for them to describe him, they'd have to say he was almost a Slytherin version of Neville himself. Minus a bit of the clumsiness, add a bit more intelligence (though no offence to Neville), and they'd have a match.

He couldn't really blame Neville for being concerned; he always was a good friend over the years. All of the seventh year boys had noticed Harry wasn't there in the morning, but Ron did play a part in encouraging them all that Harry was probably fine and just fell asleep in a hallway somewhere. They all laughed, not making fun of Harry, but knowing that he did wander off at night, and it wouldn't surprise them too much. Ron remembered, though, that Neville did look a bit disbelieving. He wouldn't have known the truth then, anyway, since he hadn't spoken to Zabini until lunch, it seemed.

Hermione looked back at Ron, and shrugged. She supposed they should just go back to lunch, now that they knew what happened to Harry. What would potentially happen to Harry is what worried her, and she needed some time to think about this. Neville was known for believing cock and bull stories, but this just didn't seem like a lie, or even a half truth, since Blaise obviously knew what he was talking about, being friends with Draco.

They'd have to tell someone, she concluded, watching Ron stand up beside her. He pushed his chair in and offered her a hand. She smiled and took it, letting him pull her up, and he smiled back. They walked back to the Great Hall, deciding to finish their lunch, since they couldn't do anything more today until after classes. Ron didn't let go of her hand, and Hermione couldn't stop the small smile from permanently sticking itself to her lips all the way there.

@>*~

When the bell signaling the end of their last class for the day rang, Ron and Hermione grabbed their bags and made their way to Lupin's office. They decided to tell him, wanting the teacher to know what they'd found out, even if it was a bit of a breech of Harry's privacy. Hoping the werewolf was in his office, Hermione and Ron climbed the small staircase and knocked on his door. Hermione had fretted about waiting until after classes, worrying that Harry was being led into a trap, but they hadn't had time when they'd made it back to the Great Hall, and they were both hungry.

It seemed more of a thing for Ron to think, that Harry would have gone against his will, but she couldn't be sure, either. Lupin heard the knock and set his quill down, and picked up his wand to open the door. "Alohomora," he said, and the door opened itself. Ron came through the door first, after Lupin gestured to him. "Come in, you two." He smiled at them, setting his wand down and putting the lid back on his jar of ink.

They came inside, Hermione shutting the door behind herself, and they sat down in front of their professor's desk. "I thought you two would be at the Quidditch match; is something wrong? Did you find out anything about Harry?" Ron made a face, having completely forgotten about the game he had wanted to see. It was between Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff and everyone wanted to find out if Hufflepuff would win, just like their surprising victory over Slytherin, of all teams.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione started. "We know where Harry went, and Draco's with him, too." Lupin listened carefully to what Hermione was saying, knowing by Ron's nervous fidgeting that was speaking for both of them, that it was going to be difficult to explain. It was almost ten minutes later by the time Remus had asked a few questions to complete the story. He pursed his lips for a moment, debating what they should do, and with a passively determined air, he decided they would have to tell Professor Dumbledore; he should be told now, rather than later, like Lupin had previously suggested.

Hermione agreed, though clearly tentatively, and they got up from their seats and made their way to the Headmaster's chambers. Lupin spoke the password to the golden gargoyle and the stairway began to turn, spiraling up to the next level. The three of them stepped on and rode to the top before stepping into the hallway in front of Dumbledore's office. Lupin knocked on the door, and they waited quietly until they heard the old wizard beckon them inside.

Lupin pushed down the handle to open the door, and gestured for Ron and Hermione to proceed him into the room. Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, a tea cup in front of him as he read down a page in a very large book. Looking up when he heard more than one set of footsteps, he adjusted his glasses slightly as he watched his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and two of his most amusing students walk into his office. "Oh! What a nice surprise; good afternoon! What can I do for you three?" he asked, smiling brightly at them as he shuffled his book and some scattered papers off to the side.

Lupin ushered Ron and Hermione into the room and let them take seats in the two chairs in front of the large desk. He came to stand behind them and the Headmaster shifted his gaze from the students to the teacher. "Sir," Remus began, "it has come to my attention that Harry and... Draco Malfoy," he cleared his throat, "have left Hogwarts on their way to the Castle of Durmstrang." He knew he had confusion and worry written across his face, but he tried not to let it seep into his voice. The two teens sitting before him didn't need to become any more worried than they already were.

"Yes, Remus," Dumbledore said, his smile having faded, and nodded seriously. "That is quite true."

Lupin was about to splutter something, albeit quietly, but he frowned, wondering what the older man was thinking about the two missing students. Dumbledore nodded again, looking at Remus in a pointed way before looking back to Hermione and Ron, who had exclaimed at him having known already. "How did you know?"

"Yes, I know where they are," Dumbledore said, smiling again, giving the two a reassuring look, yet still ignoring their question. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, could you step outside for a moment please? I have something I need to discuss with Professor Lupin." Ron and Hermione looked a bit nervous, like Dumbledore was going to break the news to Lupin that Harry and Draco had gone off and eloped or something instead of having gone off to a school that specialized in the Dark Arts. They nodded, stood, and left the room.

Dumbledore watched until the door was shut firmly behind the students, and he then turned his attention back to Lupin. "What I am about to say, Remus, needs to remain between the two of us and those children." He gestured to the door, where Hermione and Ron were standing, no doubt trying to listen to what he was saying.

"I understand, Headmaster."

"Harry and Draco have, indeed, left the school on their way to an unplottable location in the far north of Europe. I am," he paused, sitting back in his chair, though he looked like he was thinking, "not sure why, but Harry was rather adamant that he needed to speak with Professor Snape." Remus had moved to sit down in the chair Ron had been occupying, and was now glad he did so. Why on earth would Harry want to speak to Snape? Had they resumed his Occlumency training without telling him?

"Remus, I need you to try and get in touch with Severus. Let him know that the boys are on their way," he said, "so he can bring them back safely." Lupin didn't want to guess at whatever reasoning Dumbledore had for not worrying, especially in these circumstances. "I'm sure you already know why Severus was ordered there?" Lupin nodded; he'd already had an idea, but with Dumbledore saying it like that, there was no doubt left in his mind.

Hermione and Ron were still waiting outside of the office as Dumbledore continued speaking with Lupin. They had nothing better to do than simply stand there, since they didn't want to watch the game anymore, though Hermione thought Ron was lying about that. "Do you think Malfoy tricked Harry into going with him?"

In another time, or maybe if she wasn't so worried, she would have reprimanded him for that. Instead, she frowned thoughtfully at him, and replied, "I don't think so." She turned from where she was leaning against the wall. "Blaise told us that Harry went to talk to Draco and wanted to go after Snape; I don't see why Malfoy would have persuaded him to go there by himself."

"It could be a trap," Ron said, turning towards her. "How do you know Zabini was telling the truth? We don't know him, Hermione, and you know Malfoy's father is a Death Eater." Hermione nodded, knowing full well all of the reasons they shouldn't trust Blaise, or Draco. "For all we know they both planned it this way." She knew Ron was holding back, just dying to go on, to tell her how evil the Malfoys were, and that they had it in for Harry, and were delivering him straight to...

She shook her head, clearing that thought out of her mind. Hermione honestly wanted to believe that Malfoy wasn't going to hurt Harry like that; she wanted to believe they had something all right going. "Ron," she started, "I doubt Malfoy's father wanted them to be, er, intimate with one another, no matter how much You-Know-Who would want that." Ron looked at her for a moment before averting his eyes and nodding. "I don't know what happened," she said, but before either of them could say anything else, the door behind them opened.

Lupin smiled shakily at them, and then came through the door, leaving it open for Dumbledore to move forward as well. They hoped they hadn't heard what they said in the hall, though neither of them looked like it. Lupin looked worried, more so than he was when they first told him Harry was gone. "Professor," Ron said, and Hermione looked at him, unsure of what he was going to say. "It might be sort of our fault that Harry left."

Dumbledore looked at him curiously, and Lupin seemed strangely calm now, though interested in what he was saying. Hermione looked at Ron, and seeing as he was having a hard time continuing, she stepped in. "We weren't very... accommodating for him when he told us something that no one was supposed to know." There was no other way to say it, and that wasn't even the truth; he hadn't told them, they had to find it out themselves.

Lupin shook his head. "You shouldn't jump to conclusions, Ron," he said, patting Ron's shoulder. "Since the Headmaster doesn't seem too worried, we shouldn't be either." Remus tried to put a smile on, looking to Dumbledore for support. Dumbledore nodded, smiling. Albus trusted Remus not to fail in his request of him, and therefore, there was hope still.

Gesturing for them to go ahead, Dumbledore called out before they stepped down the stairs. "Ah, and Miss Granger," he began, and Hermione turned around. "I've always neglected to do so, but I have wanted to commend you on your SPEW endeavors over the years." Hermione blushed, smiling, and said a quick 'thank you,' before turning and starting down the stairs, Ron snickering behind her.

Once the three of them emerged from the stairwell, they stopped, Hermione and Ron turning to face Lupin. "Yes?" he asked, wondering what else they would have to say. He hadn't wanted to pry, but he could tell they were holding something back, nothing too terribly important, but withholding it nonetheless.

"Professor," Hermione started, and she didn't look up to meet Lupin's eyes. Instead, she kept them somewhere near the vicinity of his shoes, trying to think of a way to say this tactfully. "There's something we should tell you about Harry and Draco. They've, um..." She looked up, and Lupin clearly saw she was having a hard time spitting it out. It was fairly obvious where this was going. "Well, they..." she tried again, really not finding a way to say this delicately.

Hermione looked to Ron for a moment, who looked just about as squeamish as she felt right about now, and everyone seemed to move at a slower pace when Ron opened his mouth to take a breath. Hermione looked to Lupin, who had an equally uncomfortable expression, before they both turned to Ron, and Lupin held up his hand and winced slightly. Ron paused, and then shut his mouth, feeling a bit defeated. He didn't want to say it, either, but they might as well just get it out.

Lupin lowered his hand slowly, nodding at them. He really didn't need to hear Ron say something like 'bumping uglies,' or some other euphemism that they liked to use these days. It was one thing to know, it was another to hear it, and Remus was quite content with trying to understand without having to picture Ron's face as he said it. "Yes, well," he said, clearing his throat softly, nodding at them. "Let's get back to our evening, shall we? I have a few things to finish before supper."

Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and started to pull him down the hall. Lupin shook his head at the two of their retreating backs, and slowly followed behind them. He knew it wasn't any of his business who Harry decided to be with, but this certainly was never close to what he expected. Whatever Harry chose, Remus would support him, and give him any advice he could; after all, the boy was his responsibility now.

When Lupin reached his office, he sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk. There weren't very many ways that he could actually get hold of Snape without someone else discovering what was going on. He sighed, very much wishing that Sirius were still around. Lupin had been the one to take Harry under his wing, upholding a pact, as the last remaining Marauder, to do his best and honor his best friends, so tragically murdered, leaving their son alone in the world save for a few remnants of his parents' life. Lupin sat forward in his chair, resting his arms on his desk, trying to dismiss painful thoughts and focus on the task at hand.

It was going to be very difficult to contact Severus without it being suspicious. He couldn't send an owl, and he couldn't use the Floo Network; he had no idea how to even open a connection with a Floo at Durmstrang. He was sure he could look it up, but that wasn't a good idea to be looking for a fireplace that was subsequently going to be located where no one that wasn't authorized should be trying to fire-talk. There was also the fact that Snape might not be alone in a room, thus blowing his cover.

There was no other way he could think of that wouldn't take so much effort, so much that he might not be able to conjure it in the first place. He continued to wrack his brain for other options, dismissing ideas quickly when he found a flaw. The last and final option he came to was one of the hardest, most painful courses of action: telepathy.

For someone who hadn't mastered the pain of that particular practice, it could be harmful to the sender, though doing no damage to the receiver at all. Lupin sighed again as he reached an unsteady hand to draw a stack of assignments towards him, preparing to mark them before the evening meal. He had no idea if he could even be successful, but he knew now why Dumbledore had said 'try'. Dumbledore's presence in Snape's mind would stand out too much, whereas Lupin's would not, leaving only the barest trace. He'd risk the pain to be able to save Harry.

@>*~

Snape had left early on Sunday evening, taking the train to London, and then Apparating to a small all-wizarding community in Siberia. He'd debated stopping for a drink, but decided against it. He took another train to the closest he could get to the castle by transport, and then he Apparated to the gates, and walked the rest of the way to the huge stone fortress. There was no other way to get straight into the castle.

When he had felt his arm burning, he cursed to himself before stalking down the halls to the Headmaster's office. As much as he hated to reveal the Dark Mark, he rolled up his sleeve and showed Dumbledore that it was true. He had all but whined and pleaded with the man, not wanting to go, but the old wizard had decided otherwise for him. He'd sneered, not even trying to hide his anger, and had set off for this ungodly cold castle to join his fellow Death Eaters.

His presence being known was required, and he knew there had been no point in trying to find an excuse not to attend. All ranks were ordered to arrive at a certain time that was instinctive to them, seeping through their veins in a message from the Mark. Some took more time than others, depending on where they had been or what they'd been doing. As Snape approached the large iron door, he pulled up his sleeve, shuddering at the cold air, and held up his Mark to a skull-shaped indent in the metal. It glowed green for a moment, cruelly warming his arm where it burned, before the door scraped open over the stones.

Snape stepped through, letting the door slam itself shut behind himself, and he walked down the hall into the nearly unnavigable maze before him. After he'd made his way down two halls, he'd closed his eyes, letting his senses guide him to the room where the others were gathering. Snape frowned when he reached the room. He was late. He hated that, though he knew he wasn't the last to arrive, which made it a slight bit better.

He advanced into the room, nodding recognition and acknowledgement at familiar faces he passed. There were three figures, two tall and one shorter, with their hoods still over their heads, hiding their faces from view, and when Snape passed them, he felt eerily like he was being watched. Turning, he looked towards them; the one in the middle nodded slowly at him, and he pursed his lips, simply staring back at them. They didn't quite stand out, but there was something odd about them, as if they didn't quite fit in where they stood, off to the side. He wasn't the only one who noticed, as no one else chose to go too near them.

Snape finally nodded back, and directed his attention elsewhere. He wandered through the growing crowd, speaking to a few members here and there, though a crowd of Death Eaters aren't the sort of pointless mingling. It wasn't as if they could sit down and have a nice pot roast for dinner, and chat about their daily affairs. No one cared.

A few that were more closely aligned to others would stay in groups, though the rest simply stood silent, gazing around the room at the others. Snape could see a few arguments even taking place between some people. All the same, they were all waiting for Voldemort to arrive.

"Severus," he heard crooned out from behind him. He only had a few seconds to grimace before he was turned by his shoulder to face the dark beauty of Bellatrix Lestrange. "Do tell me, dear; how is my darling nephew?"

Insufferable, he wanted to say, but bit his tongue. "Bella," he said, smirking, "Draco continues to excel in my classes, and learns quickly in others. High expectations of him are not misplaced; he will be a fine wizard." She smiled devilishly, stroking her hand down his arm. He really hadn't a clue how Draco did in his studies other than Potions, but he was quite sure if he displeased the woman, that she'd turn on him in a second with any number of Unforgivable curses.

As she continued speaking, Severus' attention was pulled over her shoulder as he watched as the three hooded figures strode out of the room with a purpose. No one else left the room until half past two in the morning, when they had as mutually decided as you could in a group like this, to find their rooms and wait until tomorrow. The Dark Lord had not arrived.

@>*~

The enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall showed the midnight blue sky with sprinklings of silver stars shining above them as they ate their meal. Ron and Hermione were seated at their usual spots at the Gryffindor table, though feeling oddly lonely amongst their housemates. With Harry gone, it just wasn't the same. They'd never considered being friends with him a burden, but now they felt almost like they could do a lot of things without worrying about how Harry would feel about it.

Neither of them had said, but if they wanted, they could go off somewhere together, and not feel the guilt at leaving Harry behind or making a flimsy excuse. It made them feel strangely alone, and yet free at the same time. They wouldn't trade being friends with Harry for anything, even if he did attract nasty, drooling evilness like a constantly ringing Pavlovian dinner bell. Hermione sighed, taking a ham sandwich from the plate piled full of them.

Even though Ron was still a bit ticked off at his best friend, he still felt odd without his presence. He knew one day that the three of them might split up to pursue their own lives, but damnit, they were still in school and that didn't mean it had to start now, did it? Ron sighed, and before eating a spoonful of his soup, he looked up at Hermione and asked, "So?"

"So," Hermione replied, after finishing the bite of sandwich in her mouth. She'd completely left all of her books in her bag, and probably felt more alone than Ron did without her montage of reading material in front of her. They turned to look at each other, and Ron shrugged. "What are we going to tell people?" Hermione whispered to him. They couldn't very well just pretend Harry was fine and well, and sitting beside them in class, because he wasn't. People would start to notice that the Boy Who Lived was suddenly missing, as well as his rival counterpart.

Ron shrugged helplessly staring at his soup, then looked up suddenly when someone spoke. "Maybe they could have both gotten sick from one of Snape's potions he made them take." It was Neville, and they both relaxed when they remembered that he knew what was going on; and so did Blaise. That still didn't sit too well with Ron, but he was willing to stomach it as long as it wasn't pushed into his face. Neville didn't seem like that kind of guy, though. He was nice, quiet, and a bit silly, but a good guy, very brave.

"That doesn't explain Snape being gone, though," Hermione said, picking at the corners of her sandwich. She hadn't been very hungry to begin with, but knew she had to eat something, or she'd wake up in the middle of the night with hunger pains.

Neville shrugged, absently poking his fork around his plate while he looked at the other two students. Ron wondered if he'd ever accidentally stabbed his arm that rested beside his plate when he wasn't paying attention. "He could have been so angry he demanded a week off school to go and search for ingredients for the antidote, and took them along with him."

Hermione had picked up her sandwich again, and took a bite. As she chewed, she had to admit, it did sound at least plausible. Sighing after she swallowed, she shook her head and set down her sandwich again. To be honest, she had no idea what to do. They'd have to speak to Lupin or Dumbledore again, and find out what to do about people asking where the two missing students were. They probably wouldn't miss Draco, but a lot of people would certainly miss Harry.

They nodded and fell into silence, leaving them all to their meal. After a while, Neville stood up from the bench. "I'll see you guys later. I told you-know-who that I'd be in the library for some, er, studying," Neville said as he walked along the table and made his way out of the Great Hall. Ron grimaced at the mental picture of exactly what Neville would be doing and he had some serious doubts it was studying.

Hermione waved at Neville and glanced across the tables to see Blaise get up a few moments later, make his excuses and walk out of the Great Hall himself. She watched until Blaise had walked through the door, deciding that the two did make a nice couple. She shook herself mentally, it was not very nice to get lewd mental images of two boys. Course it didn't help that she still had the memory of seeing the two boys snogging earlier.

Ron and Hermione continued to eat in silence, not sure exactly what they were going to do if anything caught them off guard, like questions about where Harry was. That wasn't the problem, though. The real one was for the boys' safety. Hermione just hoped that Malfoy would watch his back. She just couldn't see him turning Harry over to the Death Eaters or Voldemort after the way she saw him stare at Harry when he thought no one was watching.

@>*~

Draco blinked his eyes rapidly to clear the blinding light as it disappeared as quickly as it had come. He'd been completely bewildered at the bus that appeared, but he pulled Harry up with him and approached the edge of the forest, coming closer to the bus and the pimply faced man who'd yelled at him. "G'day," the man said, nodding. He wasn't that much older than a teenager, at least he didn't look it.

Draco nodded cautiously at the stranger, still pulling Harry with him, glad that he was starting to come around. He was at least supporting half of his weight now, holding himself up using Draco's shoulders as Draco kept his arms around him, walking over to the bus. "Who are you?" Draco asked, curiosity getting the better of him, and really wondering how the hell the bus had found them. He decided that being blunt would be good right about now. He needed to get a hold of the situation fast. This was why he wasn't impulsive without a good reason. Damn Harry.

"Stan Shunpike, at your service," the man standing on the steps through the open door said, tipping his hat at Draco. "And this is Ernie Prang."

Stan pressed himself to the side, showing the driver behind him in his seat at the wheel. "Ar," Ernie called out the door, nodding past Stan and then turned to his other side and spat out the open little window beside his seat.

"This 'ere is the Knight Bus," Stan gestured down the side of the bus where the words Knight Bus were written in bright gold shimmering letters. At Draco's still blank look, he added, "You stuck out your wand hand, didn't ya?"

"Er," Draco said, though he nodded, looking dumbly at the gold letters. He was at a loss right now, and wasn't too sure about getting onto a strange bus. He nodded again, and wished Harry was awake, but then he might spill a lot of beans to just anyone right now, Draco thought.

"Well, climb aboard then," Stan continued, going back up into the bus himself. "Where'd ya like to go, mister...?" Stan trailed off, looking expectantly at Draco.

"Longbottom," but Draco hadn't said it. He frowned, and then, very belatedly, he felt that Harry wasn't leaning on him anymore, but standing on his own next to him. Draco looked at Harry, wondering if he was really awake, sleep walking, or was still delusional.

"What?" he asked.

"Neville Longbottom," Harry said, looking at Draco seriously, and Draco looked right confused but turned back to look at the conductor.

"Well, then, Mr. Longbottom," Stan said, now addressing Harry. "Where would ya li - hang on!" Stan looked straight at Harry, now leaning back out the door to peer at the boy. His brow creased for a moment before he split his face into a wide smile. "'Arry!" he cried. "Been a long time, ainnit?" he asked cheerfully.

Draco stood, even more bewildered at the scene unfolding in front of him. He certainly wasn't getting a hold of anything right now. "Yeah," Harry replied, smiling back faintly. "Listen, we're really tired, so can we just get on? How much for a pop into London, Diagon Alley?"

"Eleven sickles," said Stan, adopting his business voice, "but for fifteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for eighteen, you get a 'ot water bottle and a toothbrush in your choice of color."

"No, thanks," Harry said, "just the trip will be fine." They both turned their attention to Draco, who thought it was entirely too sudden, and Stan looked at him curiously, like he'd seen him before. Draco felt a slight nudge to his side, and turned to look back at Harry again. "I didn't bring any money," he whispered.

Draco frowned at Harry; just because he was rich didn't mean he enjoyed paying for other people. Quite frankly, he had no idea what Harry's financial situation was like, but he doubted all of his money had been blown on brooms, since he never had old or worn things like the Weasleys had, though he was an only child. He spared a moment to wonder who actually paid for Harry. His parents, he knew, had left him something, but he hadn't a clue how much. Surely he wasn't getting a free ride from Dumbledore, but Draco wouldn't put it past the old wizard.

Draco shifted and pulled his school bag open, reaching in for his money bag. He counted out eleven sickles, and handed them to Stan. "Just the one bed, then, 'eh?" Stan asked, sounding a bit confused, but not saying anything outright.

"Yes," Harry confirmed, and stared back at Stan, daring him to ask questions. His previous experience with Stan had been sworn that nothing too much would be asked about why this or why that, all wondering what the hell Harry was doing.

"Alright," Stan said, stepping back up the steps into the bus. "Neville," he added, with a wink and a grin. Harry smiled back weakly, and they made their way into the bus, Harry in front of Draco. There wasn't anyone on the first floor, so they stayed there. The bed they chose, right at the back, was almost under the cover of the stairs, so they wouldn't be spied on by Stan, though they heard him say, "Oi, Ern, look who it is!" but nothing more than that.

Harry sat down first and Draco eyed the bed like it would ooze slime on him before he sat down beside the other boy. It was quiet for a moment before Draco spoke. "We can't be seen together," he said quietly, and saw Harry nod out of the corner of his eye.

"You're less conspicuous than I am," Harry said. Then, "Hold on." Draco barely had time to ask him what he was talking about before he was tipped right off the bed when the bus suddenly gave a huge lurch, bang, and then they were right in the middle of Muggle London.

"What the fuck," Draco said, getting back up and sitting down, brushing not so invisible dirt off his robe. Harry grinned, but before either of them could speak again, "One more jump, Nev," Stan called back.

"Go on, Ern." True to his word, the bus gave another lurch, though this time Harry grabbed at his stomach as the movement shook through his body. Draco braced himself half against Harry, who he found out wasn't the most stable object right now, and half holding onto the edge of the bed. He turned to look at Harry as he bumped into the other boy, who he noticed seemed to look like he was going to be sick.

He was about to ask, but had to turn away when he saw Harry dry heave, still clutching his stomach. "'ere ya go, you two," Stan called back to them. Draco looked out the window and saw they were in Diagon Alley, right in front of Gringotts. The bus stopped rolling abruptly and this time, Draco was very glad he was holding on. Harry crashed into his side softly when they stopped, and they both stood up at the same time.

The boys looked at each other, and Draco hoped Harry wasn't going to throw up on him unexpectedly. They turned and walked to the front of the bus. "Thanks, Stan; Ernie," Harry said to the men.

"Not a problem, 'Arry," and once again he looked curiously at Draco, who pointedly looked the other way, stepping down the stairs and waiting for Harry. Stan gave Harry a salute before he stepped off the bus, after Draco. The bus gave a loud crack and disappeared.

They didn't speak much as they walked down the street, heading for the Leaky Cauldron. They hadn't spoken, but they were both tired and both knew it. They'd drawn the hoods up on their robes, and intended to keep them that way. No one paid much attention as they paid for one room, and went up the stairs after Tom, the innkeeper. When they reached the room, Draco closed the door behind him and locked it manually, then taking out his wand and fixing a spell over it just to make sure. Harry was too tired to do anything but sleep, and that's just what he did when he got to the bed.

@>*~

Even if some people thought that Harry was a bad omen sometimes, he did always turn around and protect them all from the danger he drew to himself. Rumors were spreading around the school like wildfire, and people had definitely noticed that Harry Potter had disappeared. It was an uneasy feeling around the school, sitting in apprehensive classes full of tense students. Ron and Hermione were dreading when the first person would come up to them and ask where Harry was. The rest of the boys in seventh year barely even had the nerve to ask Ron about his best friend. It seemed no one wanted to ask yet, for fear of finding out something terrible that they might not have wanted to know in the first place.

It was after their Charms class that Ron and Hermione were making their way through the halls to Transfiguration when Neville caught up with them through the crowd. Hermione automatically drew them to the side of the hall so they weren't in the way, and waited for Neville to regain his breath; he had jogged to catch up with them. He'd lost weight since last year, but it still was an effort to dodge around all those students. "The Slytherins are pretty pissed off their Seeker is missing," he said, leaning against the wall. "They'd never forfeit a game, especially not after the last match, but what are they going to do without a Seeker?"

The two teens looked at Neville as he spoke, and at his words, Ron scoffed, then snorted, almost at the same time, sounding both disgusted and amused. "They'd say," Ron began, "'good riddance!' Malfoy couldn't catch the Snitch for the life of him."

Ron crossed his arms and looked smug for a total of two seconds before, "Ron!" Hermione admonished, smacking his shoulder. Ron didn't look very ashamed of what he'd said, but he averted his eyes. Hermione turned back to Neville, who had been watching them curiously. "Have they thought to find out where he went?"

Neville shook his head. "No. The only teacher they really confide in is Snape, and he's gone." He shrugged. "Do you know why he went to Durmstrang, too? I mean, Harry and Draco were following him, so that's why they'd go there if that's where he went; but why was he there to begin with?"

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. Should they tell Neville? They didn't want the whole school knowing. They knew Neville would keep Harry and Draco's 'relationship' a secret, but if he knew exactly why Snape went to a school renown for teaching the Dark Arts and probably being in league with the Dark Lord himself, would he be able to keep that a secret? Then there was the fact that Neville seemed to keep his and Blaise's relationship quiet, but this was a whole lot more damaging than it would be for those two if people knew.

"Dumbledore wouldn't tell us much," Hermione finally said, deciding to simply not mention what he had and hadn't told them. "I mean," she continued, "he barely confirmed that's where Snape even went, so, I doubt he would have just let slip any little detail."

Neville looked confused for a moment, but nodded. It seemed he liked being in on what was going on. They'd never really spent that much time with Neville, but they all knew quite a bit about each other after seven years. "I'll see you guys outside," he finally said. They watched as he walked in the opposite direction of going outside. Their next class was Care of Magical Creatures, and they were pretty sure that Neville was going to find Blaise. It was either that, or else he was really, really lost, or had to pee.

Shaking her head after Neville, Hermione and Ron turned and headed towards the stairs. She knew it would have to be a pretty big something he'd needed to talk to Snape for if Harry was stupid enough to do what he did. They needed to find out what that something was, but how could they do that? "This is about to explode, isn't it?" Ron asked, interrupting her thoughts. Hermione nodded as they made their way down the other set of stairs to the main floor.

@>*~

Care of Magical Creatures went by without a lot of questions. Most students were weary about being near one of Hagrid's newest finds. Hagrid had asked them if they knew where Harry had gone, but they feigned ignorance and Hagrid left it at that, nodding and mumbling to himself that he hoped Harry hadn't gotten into something dangerous. Over the past seven years, Harry had done a lot of things for Hogwarts besides various triumphs over minions of Voldemort and the Dark Lord himself, so it wasn't that far-fetched for people to think that. Since Dumbledore hadn't held a teachers' conference about Harry, he assumed everything was fine and left it at that.

When their class was let out for the day, they headed straight for Professor Lupin's office. They had wanted to speak with him, especially since they weren't sure what to tell their housemates whenever one of them asked if they knew where Harry was. They knocked on his office door, but there was no answer. Trying the handle, they found it unlocked, so they entered the room and decided to wait for him. They sat in the two seats across from Lupin's desk, and Ron asked, "You reckon he was able to get hold of Snape?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, sounding sad. She sniffled quietly, and it made Ron feel a bit uncomfortable. Even after how many years with Ginny, he hadn't gotten used to a girl crying. What could he do? Pat her on the back and say 'buck up'? He barely even realized he'd completely accepted her hand in his own when she reached over, holding onto him tightly. After a few more sniffles, it was quiet as they waited, but they didn't have to wait more than five minutes before the door opened. They didn't let go even when Lupin walked into the room, hand to his nose and a jar full of thorny looking twigs.

"Oh!" he said, startled when he looked up to find the two waiting for him. "Hello." He tried a shaky smile before he set the jar down on a clear space on the desk, which was otherwise filled with scrolls and old books, and a few odd trinkets. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he turned to the side, but not enough, because when he took his hand from his nose, they saw blood.

"Professor Lupin," Hermione gasped. "What happened?" He seemed tense at her question, and simply dabbed at his nose and sniffed experimentally before turning back to them.

"Oh, nothing, Hermione." He swallowed, dabbing at his nose again. "Just a little nose bleed." He folded the cloth quickly and stuffed it back in his pocket, not letting them see how much had oozed from his nostril, which he'd cleaned the best he could without a mirror.

"Why did it start?" Ron asked, rubbing his thumb over Hermione's absently. He frowned at the light red smear down to Lupin's upper lip. Lupin sighed, pulling his chair back slowly and sitting down in it. He'd just walked half way around the castle, from the fourth floor where his office was located, down to the ground floor and outside to the greenhouses and all the way back. It felt good to sit.

He wasn't finished, though, no matter how much he wished to shut everything out and lie down for a while. Classes were over, at least, but he wasn't done yet. He'd decided already that he'd better tell them what was going on, knowing they'd want to know about any progress in locating the boys. "I've been trying to contact Severus by telepathy. It's..." he gave a slight gesture with his hands, completely not satisfied with the word he was about to choose, "painful, to say the least, for the person who initiates the connection; especially, if they're inexperienced."

"But why would you want to talk to him through telepathy if it's painful?" Ron asked, frowning. He shrugged, and in the process jostled his and Hermione's joined hands off their perch on the arm rest of his chair. Instead of breaking contact, they simply lifted and rested them down on the rest again. "Couldn't you just use an owl?"

Remus shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment as the movement didn't improve the state of his headache. "It's safer this way for everyone. Owls can be intercepted and I haven't a clue if they even have any fireplaces connected to the Floo Network, plus I didn't want to chance anyone finding out," Remus said, trying not to sniff at the slow trickle he began to feel starting in his nose again. "Anyway, you two wanted to see me for something?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "We've been getting a lot of students asking where Harry is, even if it's just in passing and not a direct question, everyone has noticed. Even some of the Slytherins are wondering, though they don't necessarily think Malfoy's with him, they're getting angry that their Seeker is missing, too." Hermione stopped to look at Ron for a moment, and he only nodded, not having anything else to add, really. "What should we do?" she asked, looking back to Remus. She wished she felt there was something more she could do about the situation, and there was only so long they could keep dodging questions until someone went searching for the answers themselves, or began to put clues together.

"I'll talk to the Headmaster tomorrow morning at the meeting. If worse comes to worse, tell them you either don't know or that Harry's out running a few errands for Dumbledore, or is in a training exercise," Lupin replied, rubbing his temple. There were flaws in all of those options, and all he really wished was that Harry hadn't run off for seemingly no apparent reason. "Either way, I'll find out how to address questions when I speak to Dumbledore."

"Thank you, sir," Ron said, catching the frustrated and tired looks cross the older man's face. Hermione nodded and they stood from their seats, making their way to the door and out of Remus' office. They just hoped no matter what Harry and Malfoy were doing, that Harry would make it back in one piece.

@>*~

Harry woke up to dim sunlight filtering through the closed curtains over the window. He squinted at it, trying to recall where exactly he was. The last thing he remembered was the Knight Bus, and vaguely walking down Diagon Alley. He closed his eyes again, sighing. He wanted to smack himself for being so stupid as to run off like that. The thing was, Snape was the only one he could talk to about this; he had to find him. Not because he really wanted to talk to the man, but to Harry, it seemed far better not to spread this around. He couldn't tell Lupin, and he wasn't even sure that the full moon was over. It might be too late before he could talk to his father's friend.

As much as everyone had wanted to pretend Lupin hadn't been ceremoniously sidled into Sirius' place as his guardian after the accident in the Department of Mysteries, Harry knew what all had happened, too. He wished it didn't have to happen how it did, but he was glad to have Lupin. He never wanted to make the man think he wasn't thankful for it, but they all knew it wasn't the same. Of course, it wasn't the same as it would have been if he'd had his father alive and well, and his mother, too, for that matter, but that was the past. He couldn't change that. He'd had a chance to save Sirius' life, though, and he'd screwed that up. He couldn't change that either, no matter how many times he wished he could.

Harry sighed into the pillow before starting to prop himself up on his elbows. He'd woken up on his stomach, and grimaced at the sore muscles in his neck. Turning over, he squinted before reaching back to the other side of the bed for his glasses that seemed to have fallen off in his sleep. He didn't recall moving at all from the time he'd walked through the door and fell onto the bed. He put them on, and looked around the room, seeing Draco sprawled, as much as one could sprawl in a chair, on the other side of the room, near the fireplace.

Harry wondered if Draco had taken them off for him, and he sat up on the bed, watching the other boy for a moment. Slowly, a smile started to tug its way onto Harry's lips as he watched. He'd never seen Draco sleep before, and it looked... strange. He supposed he wanted to laugh, but was too tired still to do so. Draco looked like nothing Harry would have pictured he would look while asleep. He wondered if Draco was even really asleep, or was just pretending, and actually listening to his movements.

"Draco?" he asked to the silent figure.

"What?" Draco asked right back.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked automatically, not even sure why. It did seem like the Slytherin not to actually be sleeping. He'd probably not have said a thing at all even if Harry got up and started dancing around naked like a moon calf.

"Waiting for you to get your arse out of bed so we can go and get some more money, and figure out what the hell you've gotten us into."

Harry looked affronted for a moment, though not sure why, because Draco still didn't have his eyes open. He frowned a moment before chuckling. "I meant," Harry started, "what are you doing over there?" He gestured to the chair when Draco had opened his eyes and straightened up where he sat.

Draco just looked back at him, a serious expression on his face, looking absolutely nothing like he had a moment ago. "I, uh, didn't think you'd want me over there." He gestured himself to the bed where there was still a Harry shaped indent in the covers. He had been too tired to even pull them over himself, Harry realized, when he looked down at the bed.

"Oh," Harry said quietly. Draco shuffled his robes a bit, and Harry watched, eyes tracking the impersonal movements of the fabric as the other boy moved. "It would have been okay," he said, after a moment, though just as quietly.

Draco looked up and sneered. "Well, thanks for the tip, Potter." He got up from the chair and stretched his arms up in the air and twisting to the side, cracking his back and making Harry wince at the sharp sound.

Frowning, Harry stood up himself, and went to the bag that he'd brought. He'd dropped it just shortly after coming through the door. "Are you going to be a prat for the rest of the day?" Harry asked, taking the bag back to the bed and opening it to pull out his heavier cloak. He'd just worn his robes the night before, and it did feel a bit chilly in here, and it was no doubt even cooler outside.

"What do you want me to be, Harry?" Draco asked back, seeming serious now, despite his earlier snark. Harry looked at him, and didn't answer. To Harry, he looked like he had something to regret, which was something Harry had felt more than once in his life, and knew that feeling quite well. Draco turned and got his cloak from the arm of the chair over which he'd slung it, then put it on. "Come on."

It was near to eleven-thirty in the morning and there weren't that many people in the downstairs area of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom barely noticed them walk by as he was busy stacking mugs behind the bar, and not many of the scant patrons even looked at them. They'd lifted their hoods up over their heads before they left the hall outside of their room. It wouldn't be that strange to see them without being able to see their faces, since some people kept their hoods up all the time, though they were usually the shady type of wizards, and got strange looks from proper witches as they walked down the streets.

Then, of course, it would simply draw attention to their cloaks if their faces weren't shown. That a Slytherin and a Gryffindor was likely to look a bit odd if people noticed, but it was something they'd have to deal with. They'd put Harry's smaller bag, which was now a lot smaller after his heavy cloak was taken out of it, inside of Draco's. Draco had hoisted it over his shoulder as they left the bar, but outside, he gave the bag to Harry to position the strap of it over top of his badge, successfully hiding most of it in the process. It'd be easier to accept a Slytherin out of school than a Gryffindor.

Their first stop was Gringotts, and they made good time down the street to the wizarding bank, and got inside. Harry hadn't brought his key, and Draco had his own with him, and he took his hood down for the goblin, but it seemed alright. The goblin looked at him curiously, and Draco stared right back into the old wrinkled face until the creature hurrmphed and got off his stool to lead them to the vault. As long as Harry didn't have to be exposed, it was alright, Harry thought. No one was out to get Draco, were they? His father was in prison, but that didn't have anything to do with Draco, did it?

He almost wanted to say something about it, to try and sympathize with the loss of a father, but he had absolutely no idea how to broach the subject. He wondered how Draco felt about it; he certainly looked fine, and it wasn't as if people hadn't mentioned it. The ride to the vault was as pleasant as ever, and Harry didn't see inside of the vault before it was slammed shut again, but the heavy looking bag that Draco had scooped some coins into did look, well, heavy. When they got back to the main chamber, they changed half into Muggle currency, which Draco gave to Harry so he didn't have to deal with the odd looking papers.

They were sufficiently prepared for Muggle inhabited areas now, and since they had their school uniforms on under their robes and cloaks, they would simply look as if they were on a vacation from a boarding school. They wouldn't cause much suspicion with Muggles if they didn't have their robes on; that was the big thing. It was the wizards they had to worry about, and the little oddities that made up the difference. A Muggle wouldn't spot them, but a wizard would.

It wasn't even half past noon by the time they got back to their room at the inn, and they decided to eat before going back to sleep until it was dark before they went on again. After a quick meal, they entered the room, Draco ahead of Harry, and the blond went straight to the fireplace and started the wood on fire, heating the room quickly from the blaze. Harry felt a wave of warmth settle over him as he set the bag down beside the bed.

Hesitating for a moment before he decided what he was going to do, Harry started by taking his cloak off, followed by his robes. It wasn't like Draco hadn't seen his body before, but it still felt strange to be undressing with the other boy in the room, considering they hadn't exactly left off on the right foot the last time they'd been more.. intimate. Regardless, Harry wanted a somewhat proper night of sleep before they headed off. Draco stood from the fire, and the first thing he saw was a large amount of skin.

He swallowed, fighting the urge to ask one of the most stupid questions his brain seemed to think of. What are you doing?, he wanted to ask. If it wasn't obvious enough for his stressed mind, Harry was undressing for bed. Even though he felt a bit uncomfortable, he wasn't making any effort not to watch Harry basically strip down to everything but his trousers. When Harry turned around, Draco didn't look away. He still didn't feel like he had anything to hide, but he supposed he should feel a bit more self conscious of what he was displaying after what happened between them.

Draco's eyes were darting around Harry's smooth stomach, but his eyes slowly drifted upwards to meet Harry's. They looked at each other for a second, and Draco felt the urge to scowl, but held it back when Harry gestured to the bed. Sighing only loud enough for himself to hear it, Draco shrugged before taking off his robe and shirt, leaving his trousers on like Harry, and taking his socks off.

Harry didn't take his socks off. Draco hated that, and spared a moment to glare at the socked feet as they walked around to the other side of the bed. They reached to pull back the covers at the same time, and that just struck both of them as awkward. Harry got in first with a sigh of relief at the comfort, though at the same time, Draco could see his body tense when the Slytherin sat down on the other side.

The bed was big enough for the two of them not to have to cling to each other to keep from falling off the edges, so there shouldn't have to be any problems with bumping into each other. Draco slid his legs under the covers, and they both rustled the covers around for a minute before they seemed happy with the arrangement. Draco laid on his back, unable to find another way that his knees or his arse didn't just barely touch the other boy.

Harry had turned on his side, facing away from Draco, who stared up at the ceiling. He could feel Harry's heat, and it was strange, and completely distinguishable from the heat from the fire. It wasn't like he had never been in bed with anyone before, but this was... different. He didn't know what it was about it, but it felt odd, and he couldn't put a better word to it. There was a part of him that wanted to do more than sleep, but another part made him feel horrible about past indiscretions, freezing him to the spot. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. Harry shifted slightly, and that was the only other sound in the room that Draco heard before they fell asleep.

@>*~

In the Great Hall, Ron and Hermione were seated at the Gryffindor table. They were trying to eat moderately fast, since they had a Prefects' meeting that afternoon, and they couldn't be late. It didn't take long before they were finished with their meal, and they gathered their bags and got up from the table, heading to the halls. Neither of them said anything as they walked down the quiet corridor. They both had things on their mind, ranging from the meeting, exams, and loose strings on robes to confusing questions and things dealing with Harry; neither one of them wanted to talk much, anyway.

When they reached the door leading into the Prefects' meeting room, Ron opened the door and pulled it open for Hermione to walk through, then stepped into the room himself. Most of the time, the room was locked, with only Prefects having keys to gain access, and only when meetings were scheduled was the door unlocked. Hermione smiled at Ron as they took their seats, waiting for the meeting to come to order. Millicent Bulstrode looked a bit irritated (more than usual, at least) at having the entire Slytherin portion of Prefect duties falling solely to her, since Draco had mysteriously disappeared.

It felt a bit strange to Hermione, as she sat on one of the smaller chairs, though it was still very comfortable. Ron sat on a sofa, at the end nearest to her chair, which was situated right beside the other piece of furniture. She'd hesitated for a brief moment before sitting down, wondering where Harry and Draco had been. There was a clear image in her mind, no matter how much she didn't quite want it there, of what the boys had been doing before Harry made it back to Gryffindor Tower, but there sure wasn't any evidence left now. Hermione frowned slightly, making a mental note on her 'to do' list to mention to Harry, if he ever came back, that it was rather rude to let the house-elves clean up his mess, especially the crudest type of messes that her brain insisted they'd created.

She suppressed the urge to look under the furniture for items of clothing that might have been left lying about, and didn't think she would have been able to set foot inside the room if there were going to be weird stains on the carpeting. No, she decided she wouldn't complain about the house-elves' neurotic cleaning habits, no matter the mess. Looking over to Ron, she could tell he was thinking along the same lines as Hermione had been. He inspected the couch warily before sitting down, hoping he wasn't sitting on something his best friend may have potentially shagged on. It wasn't as if he was sickened by the thought of Harry's bodily fluids, but it was just a bit icky to sit in a puddle of them, or even a dried up once-puddle of them; or Malfoy's.

Ron glanced over to Millicent as well, and quickly looked away when she turned her angry glare towards him. Judging by that, he really didn't suppose the Slytherins had found out or heard any word about Malfoy's whereabouts. They were bound to be upset, for the disorder that tended to follow the blond's absences, whether it be for a few days in the infirmary, or being called home by his parents for Merlin knew what. The loss of their Seeker was beginning to penetrate a lot of conversations in the avid groups of Quidditch fans, and it was obvious the Slytherins were going to be asking questions.

The meeting was called to order as soon as all the Prefects were gathered, sans Malfoy, of course. Hermione didn't think the meetings served a purpose unless there was a certain issue to be dealt with, so the majority of items discussed were trivial things that ended up simply being nattered on about until a new topic was introduced. There was one current event that needed Prefect chaperones for the third years on the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. It wasn't surprising when Millicent volunteered, since it was widely known that she usually never had much anything much to do on those weekends.

After they were selected, Millicent and Ernie, there was a bit of chatter about the trip, though it was more on a personal level, so they ended the meeting. As the majority of the group continued talking as they made their way to the door, Hermione noticed Millicent simply shrug her shoulders when Padma asked where Malfoy had gotten off to. Not everyone had noticed Draco was gone, but in smaller groups where he usually made more than his share of rude comments, it was a difference big enough to take notice of. Even though Malfoy was technically an important person within his own house, it seemed they didn't really care that he wasn't around, except for the fact that he played Seeker.

Ron kept reminding her that he wasn't even that good, but that didn't matter at the moment. They couldn't very well kick him off the team with a father like Lucius Malfoy. Despite being in Azkaban, no one wanted to upset Malfoy too much, because you never knew whose parents would suffer for their children's indiscretions in regards to Draco. They hardly realized that they were the only two students left in the room when the door clicked shut softly behind the last Prefect to leave. Hermione broke the thoughtful silence, letting a frown crease her features. "I hope Harry's alright."

Hermione looked over to Ron then, and he looked worried as well, but he patted the cushion next to him on the couch. Hermione stood from the chair and sat down beside Ron, their arms brushing against each other before Ron lifted his. "I reckon he is," he said, resituating his arm around Hermione's shoulders, behind her neck. "I mean, this is Harry we're talking about; he always makes it out alright."

Hermione smiled at that, even though Ron might not have been able to see it. She'd leaned over to rest against his side, and it felt very comfortable. She wasn't so much worried about whether Harry could take care of himself, because she knew he could. What was bothering her was what had made him leave in the first place. Was he being careful enough in the way he traveled? Did Voldemort find some way to draw Harry away from Hogwarts for some devious reason? And, what she really couldn't figure out, why on earth did he think Snape had all the answers to whatever questions were plaguing his mind at the moment?

Ron had calmed down from his angry outburst at Harry the other day, though he couldn't say he wasn't still hurt over Harry keeping his so called 'relationship' with the Slytherin a secret. Besides shagging their best friend, Ron hadn't a clue as to why Malfoy was involved in this, unless it was an evil reason. He'd come up with lots of those, only to have Hermione shake her head and discard them faster than he could think up another far-fetched idea. As well as that, he was also still wondering what the hell Harry saw in Malfoy, of all people, but there had to be something. If Ron knew his friend, Harry wouldn't be with Malfoy for no reason at all.

He couldn't see the allure of sleeping with one's house rival, but it seemed like the 'in' thing these days. Harry was doing it, Neville was doing it, and who knew all the others that could be. Ron didn't see the draw to snarky prats, but whatever floated their boats. At his side, Ron felt Hermione tense, and he brought his hand to her head, stroking her hair back. She lifted her head to look at him, worry written across her protruding bottom lip. "He'll be okay, Hermione," he said to her, smiling gently.

She looked back into his eyes for a moment before responding with, "I know." It didn't feel right for her to look away then, so she didn't. There was something about the tone of Ron's voice, the way it rumbled as he spoke in a low voice, reassuring her. Ron looked down at her, not knowing what to think. The way she was looking at him really was starting to make him feel uncomfortable and excited at the same time. Slowly, almost without realizing it, Ron began to lift her chin up with his hand that had worked its way from her head and around the back of her neck.

Hermione didn't resist at all to the gentle pull, looking into Ron's eyes before closing them and letting her lips meet his, placing a chaste kiss onto each other's mouths. Pulling back a moment later, Ron hoped he looked more collected than he felt as he searched his friend's face for any type of regret. Hermione opened her eyes slowly, knowing he was watching her, and she let a smile ghost over her lips before running her tongue out between them briefly before leaning towards him for more.

Ron accepted, naturally, and tensed for a moment when he felt Hermione's tongue between his slack lips, teasing him for admittance. He opened his mouth wider, and at the same time leaned down a bit more, pressing their mouths tighter together. Hermione stroked her tongue over Ron's, luring him into the kiss, and she held back the small moan as he deepened the kiss. It was tentative, yet full of emotions, and they could both sense they wanted to go further.

Hermione shifted her body, sitting up straighter, and letting Ron's arm fall down her back to settle at her waist. He began to pull her towards himself, and if he had been thinking at all at that moment, he might have said to himself, 'Where do you expect her to go? Your lap?' He stopped pulling, and reached his other arm to her hip, just as she raised her hands to his shoulders, sliding them up the sides of his neck. Then, with a final lick to his lips, Hermione pulled back, already half sitting on the edge of the sofa, smiling back at Ron.

Ron looked dazed, and he certainly felt like it. He could still taste Hermione on his lips when he unconsciously licked them, staring back at hers, damp with his own saliva. "Was that okay?" he asked, finding it hard to look at her eyes, but he did, and was glad to see the warmth and underlying concern there. He supposed he knew what it was from: Harry. He knew she was worried, and he had to admit it didn't quite feel especially right going further than a kiss right now, not when their friend could be in mortal danger.

"It was good." She smiled, lifting a hand to her lips and gently running her finger in at the creases, making sure the slight amount of lip gloss she had on wasn't smeared. "I just don't feel right... going any farther, right now." Ron nodded, looking down again, not focusing on anything, though if he had been, he'd have tried to look somewhere else, not at Hermione's waist, or the curves of her breasts, which he'd hardly realized were so beautiful. "No," she started, almost mistaking his head's decline as rejection, "No. I enjoyed the kiss, I'm just not sure I'd be able to continue knowing that Harry might be in trouble."

Ron nodded again, unable to help himself from trailing his eyes up her body a bit as he looked up at her. "I understand," he said, smiling slightly. "It's okay. So, the kiss was good?" He felt a bit sheepish at having so blatantly looked at her body, but she didn't seem to mind, and simply smiled at him knowingly.

"It was very good." She stood from the couch, extending a hand to Ron to help him up. He reached down to the floor beside his feet and picked up the strap of his bag, and slung it over his shoulder as he took her hand, and stood from the sofa.

"I'm glad," Ron said, grinning before they started towards the door, down the corridors. They had time, they didn't have to rush this, and she was right; there were more important things to worry about. First, they had classes to attend and Harry to worry about. Neither of them were going anywhere, and they were definitely going to make sure this particular issue was revisited.

@>*~