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Hogwarts Express	By : Closet Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 27084 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
Eowyn’s Elixer.... if you’re referring to the fact that those three chapters were very, very short,
and two were identical... it was supposed to be that way, honest! It’s okay, really. :D

Track Alpha

            Harry was in the process of attempting to sneak out of the common room when Hermione
spotted him.

            “Where are you going, Harry?”

            Cursing under his breath, Harry turned to face his friends. It wasn’t like he could pretend
he hadn’t heard Hermione - she’d yelled loudly enough to alert the entire common room that he
was trying to escape without telling the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio. Hermione and Ron
were standing by one of the couches, both with jackets and scarves already on. It was a
Hogsmede weekend, and they had assumed that, like always, Harry would wait for them, then
they’d all leave together.

            “Out,” he admitted, a little sheepishly.

            “And you weren’t waiting for us?” Ron asked, incredulous.

            “I’m not going to lunch,” Harry explained, shoving his mittened hands deeper into his
cloak pockets. “I’ve already eaten, and I need to pick something up early.”

            “Harry,” Hermione frowned, concerned. “What’s the matter? You’ve been sneaking off
all the time lately, haven’t been paying attention to your schoolwork - and in your NEWTs year,
Harry! - and now you’re sneaking off without us?” She looked hurt. “Harry...”

            Harry tried to think fast. He still felt horrible if he ever lied to his two best friends, so he
couldn’t do that, but it wasn’t as if he could just tell them the truth, either. So a half truth, it was.

            “Well, it is only a week until Christmas hols, and I’m staying here at school this year, you
remember, so it’s not as though I’ll even be able to go to Daigon Alley to get anything... I guess I
just figured I could meet up with you later...”

            Hurt and slightly suspicious expressions changed immediately to relief and slight
sheepishness. “Blimey, mate,” Ron snorted. “Why didn’t you just say so? Meet you at Three
Broomsticks later?”

            “Got it,” Harry grinned easily, then mock saluted his friends. “See you guys later, kay?”

            “See you, Harry!” Hermione chimed, waving.

            Sighing softly with relief, Harry slipped out the portrait hole, hurried down the hallways,
then stepped out the big front doors. Breathing in the cold, snowy air, he looked around for a
moment, then spotted a figure in black and green just outside the front gates to the school, and
hurried down the path. Reaching the other, he grinned sheepishly. “Ready?”

            Draco nodded, quickly. “You brought your Galleons?”

            Harry was the one bringing the money, despite the fact that Draco had just as much as he
did. What with what they were planning today, they figured it would be best if Harry did the
purchasing. If nothing else, he could use his considerable weight in the wizarding world as The
Boy Who Lived to ensure they didn’t get in any real trouble.

            “Got them,” Harry confirmed, patting his pocket, which jingled.

            “Good, come here.” Draco opened his arms, and Harry, looking nervous, moved close to
Draco, who wrapped his arms around the other’s torso. “I know this is awkward, but I’m not
good enough at Apparation to transport you any other way.”

            “No problem,” Harry answered quickly, though his ears under the green bobbled hat
Hermione had knitted for him were burning red. “Let’s just go before someone sees us.”

            A moment later, the two of them had disappeared, leaving only snowy footprints behind,
then reappeared, a moment later, with a resounding crack, in Knockturn Alley.

            Having reached their destination, Draco quickly let go of the other, then tugged the hood
of his robe up to cover his distinctively blond hair. Harry, meanwhile, was tugging his hat further
down to hide his forehead, and watching the alleyway anxiously. It was just as dark and
foreboding as it had been in second year when he’d accidently landed here. Actually, that
reminded him of the whole incident in the dark materials store where he’d been hiding in the
cabinet. “Where did you say we were going again?”

            “Borgin’s Wizarding Curios,” Draco said briskly. “My father dealt with the man for
years, and he is most likely to have what we need.”

            Harry snorted, clapping a bright red mitten over his mouth.

            “What is your problem?” Draco asked, giving the spectacled boy a dubious look.

            “Suppose he’ll let you buy the Hand of Glory this time, so you can become a thief and
plunderer?”

            Draco froze all movement, and slowly turned to look Harry directly in the eyes. “Potter....
how did you know that?”

            Harry had to fight down a grin. “Remember that big old cabinet you almost opened before
your father called you to go broom shopping, Draco? Let’s just say you would have seen more
than the inside of a cabinet had you actually opened it. And it would have been rather
embarrassing for The Boy Who Lived to be seen in a Knockturn Alley shop, with broken glasses
and all covered in soot.”

            Draco stared at him for a long moment, then straightened, realization dawning in his eyes.
“You landed in the wrong fireplace.”

            Harry shrugged. “First time with Floo powder.”

            Draco rolled his mercury eyes, then turned to walk down the street, tugging on the edge of
Harry’s cloak to encourage him to follow. “Idiot.”

            “Prat,” Harry shot back good naturedly.

            Their insults didn’t really hold any venom anymore. They were almost - dare I say it -
friends. Almost. At least they weren’t enemies, they worked together on potions, they had very
unique conversations about things their other friends didn’t even know about, they shared a
rather large secret. Which really makes them sound like friends. But they still were - at least in
image - on opposite sides of the war, still on opposing sides of the school, still rivals. As far as
everyone except Snape knew, they flatly hated each other, and Snape probably thought they still
hated each other too. That was probably what kept the Potions Master sane when he knew that
the two of them were working together to find out what was going on. They threw insults - and
sometimes fists - when they were in public, then shared anecdotes and odd childhood stories
when they were in private. Kind of like.... friends in certain situations.

            Reaching the door to the shop they needed, both boys looked back and forth quick to see
if anyone was watching them, but if there’s one rule of Knockturn Alley, it’s this: do not pay
attention to what everyone else is doing.

            The bell rang as they pushed the door open, and they entered, watching as Mr. Borgins
came out from behind the counter.

            “Can I help you gentlemen today?”

            His voice sounded slightly derisive, like he was wondering what kind of valuable
business two teenaged boys could possibly have with him. Draco leaned on the edge of the
counter casually, looking down through the glass case at the various gold and silver baubles
inside. Harry lingered back a little, making sure not to look directly at Borgins - he didn’t want to
be recognized.

            Yet.

            “Yes, I hope so,” Draco said casually. “You see, we’re looking for something that can’t
be obtained just anywhere - we were hoping your establishment would have something suitable.”

            Borgins’ eyebrows rose. “Indeed?”

            Keeping a proud, aristocratic air about him, as though he could care less about what the
man thought of him, Draco said, “We need a time turner.”

            Borgins let out a spluttering laugh. “A time turner...?! I can assure you that that is quite
impossible, Mr....?”

            “Malfoy,” Draco said, tossing back his hood. “And Potter.”

            Harry turned now, pushing the edge of his hat up as though by accident, knowing from
the gold fish look that suddenly crossed Borgins face that he could see the distinctive scar.
Smirking slightly - he had picked that up from hours spent with Draco - he said, “It would be a
great help to us, Mr. Borgins, if you would be able to help us.”

            Borgins stared at them, as though torn, then began wringing his hands almost desperately.
“If I helped you... this could come back to me in a bad way. Neither of your associates are likely
to be pleased...”

            Harry reached into his pocket, retrieved his sack of Galleons, and dropped them
promisingly on the counter in front of Borgins. “We will make it worth your while, and you have
our word that none of this will ever make its way back to you.”

            Borgins wet his lips with his tongue nervously, looking anxious. “You’re certain?”

            “Malfoy honour, Mr. Borgins,” Draco smirked. “My father’s dealings with you were
never traceable, were they?”

            “Of course not...” Borgins agreed softly, then nodded swiftly, and looked resolved.
“Alright. I shall return in a moment, just stay here.” Moving quickly, he retreated back into the
bowels of the back of the store, leaving the two of them standing there, waiting.

            “Nice performance,” Draco appraised, single eyebrow raised. “Very nicely done.”

            “Just tried to pretend to be you,” Harry smirked, turning to stand with his back to the
counter, elbows resting on it to support his weight. They stood in silence for a long while, then
Harry frowned, glancing over his shoulder to the curtain Borgins had passed through. “He’s been
gone for a long time. You think he’s fire calling someone?”

            “The Dark Lord or the Ministry?” Draco frowned, considering. “Maybe. Be prepared to
hex his ass if you have to.”

            Harry moved his arm a little, revealing that his wand was hidden inside his sleeve, and his
finger tips were in fact resting on the tip of it already. “Way ahead of you.”

            Fortunately, before either of them had to test their quick hex abilities, Borgins came back,
holding a small wooden box in his hand. It was covered in dust - as was the man - so it looked
like he’d had to dig through old, untouched shelves to find it. Setting the box on the counter
carefully, he motioned to it with his left hand. “This is it. Be extremely careful...” he worried,
when Draco reached forward to pick it up.

            “You doubt me?” Draco sneered aristocratically, then cracked the box open. He stared at
it for a moment, then handed it to Harry. “Adequate to your standards, Mr. Potter?”

            Harry took the box, tilting his head a little to the right as he stared at the finely detailed
gold and silver contraption inside. Looking up from it, he pierced Borgins with a stern look. “I
must test it before I purchase.”

            “Of course,” Borgins swallowed. “You know how...?”

            “I most certainly do,” Harry removed the device, and slipped the gold chain on it over his
neck. “See you fifteen minutes ago.”

            Giving it only a very small turn, Harry could see everything moving, as Borgins dashed
back into the back, then back to the counter, then back to the back and Draco and himself dashed
backwards out the door, until a moment later, he stood alone in the shop, and everything stopped
moving rapidly. Smirking, he crossed the room, and opened the door of that infamous cabinet,
stepping inside.

            Fifteen minutes later, Harry tossed the chain over his neck, twisted the time turner, and
disappeared. Seconds later, the cabinet door opened, and Harry stepped out, grinning.

            “We’ll take it.”
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Hogwarts Express