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Hogwarts Express	By : Closet Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 27088 -:- 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
- 25
- 26
- 27
To all my reviewers: There is a good possibility that tomorrow morning, I will not be posting
another chapter. Why?

Because, quite frankly, I’ll be curled up on my bed reading Half Blood Prince! And it will SO be
worth it, honest! Go get your copies, and you’ll be happy too! :D

Track Change

Track Alpha

            “I had no idea Dumbledore had spread the Apparation detection barriers as far as
Hogsmede,” Harry muttered, as he stepped onto the revolving staircase.

            “We would have gone to the other side of Hogsmede, if we had,” Draco frowned. “Now
we have detention.”

            “But did you notice,” Harry mused thoughtfully, “He didn’t ask what we bought in
Knockturn Alley. And you’d think that would be the first thing he’d do. I mean, if it’s from
Knockturn Alley, it’s probably illegal, right?”

            “Of course, but you are Dumbledore’s golden boy. You can do whatever you like, and not
get punished for it.” Draco smirked at him.

            “Not true,” Harry flushed, then sighed, reaching his hand out to run his fingers across the
stone wall as the staircase brought them lower. “Actually, knowing Dumbledore, he already
knows what we bought. He probably even knows why,” Harry groaned. “And tomorrow detention
with Snape.”

            Draco frowned, stepping around the gargoyle, who jumped back into place as soon as
Harry and he had passed through. “I am concerned about that. I think Professor Snape requested
Dumbledore to give us detention with him. I imagine he wants a progress report... and I’m not
about to tell him why we were in Knockturn Alley. He’d knew it has something to do with
Draconius.”

            Harry was silent for a moment, then said, “We’ll just have to finish and use the potion
before then.”

            Draco gaped at him. “Are you insane? That would take at least the next twenty-four
hours, not to mention we wouldn’t have time to test it!”

            Harry sighed, and began walking in the direction of the bathroom where their potion
waited. “Look. I don’t know about you, but Snape would not believe any excuses I would come
up with. Besides that, it’s not like we can really test the potion without just drinking it, anyway.
We can take shifts, if that’s what you want, I can work in the night and you can in the day, or the
other way around, or I can even just pull the entire shift myself...”

            “The potion would kill us if you did it alone,” Draco snapped, automatically.

            “Well, then?” Harry crossed his arms. “What do you suggest then?”

            There was silence for a very long minute, and several younger year students passed them
in the hallway, looking confused that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy would be standing in the
middle of the first floor hallway, glaring at each other, and not in Hogsmede, in the middle of the
Three Broomsticks, glaring at each other. Finally, Draco started walking again, and Harry fell
into step beside him, glancing over at his pale rival every few seconds, trying to figure out what
was going through that pointy, pretty face.

            Just outside the third floor girl’s bathroom, Draco snapped, “If this kills us, it’s your
fault.”

            “Okay...” Harry said, warily.

            “Good,” Draco nodded, and led the other into the bathroom, pointing at the floor beside
the cauldron. “Just so long as we have that worked out. Sit.”

***

            Harry yawned, stretching widely.

            It was early Sunday morning.... around five, if he had to guess at a time. Hmm. Actually,
time might be a good thing to remember, since Hermione and Ron were likely to come looking
for him soon. A wave of sudden panic swept over him. The Marauder’s Map! If they got their
hands on that, they’d know exactly where he was....

            No.

            He’d locked it in his trunk. Ron, he knew, would have wanted to break in and get it from
there the instant they’d gotten back from Hogsmede, but Hermione would have stopped him, and
would have waited.... actually, she’d have probably gone to McGonagall first, and the Head of
House would have informed her that Harry was, indeed, safe and meeting with Dumbledore.
After that... she’d give him twenty four hours before she went looking for him. That was, after
all, the time limit Harry had given her last year when she kept trying to comfort him. If she knew
he was in the castle, but he didn’t show up, give him twenty four hours to mope to himself, then
she was allowed to ‘Allohamora’ the trunk and get the map.

            That would mean he had until three this afternoon.

            Draco had a watch, he knew, so swallowing, Harry crawled around the cauldron, and
glanced down at the sleeping Draco Malfoy, who had wrapped himself in his cloak and gone to
sleep about three hours ago. Trying very hard to not wake him, Harry’s hand inched forward until
he could brush the edge of the cloak back, revealing the glowing face of his watch.

            4:57.

            That’s right, Harry grinned to himself. He did have an excellent sense of timing when it
was important. Relieved, he moved to push the cloak back over Draco’s arm when the blond
shifted.

            Holding his breath, Harry froze in place, watching that pale face anxiously. Draco didn’t
seem about to wake up, however, and Harry sighed in relief, moving the cloak back over the
other’s arm, tucking him in, almost.

            “Mmm... Harry?”

            Harry froze - again - and looked down. Draco’s mercury eyes were half open, looking up
at him sleepily.

            “Yeah,” he whispered back. “I just had to check the time. Sorry.”

            “No, s’okay,” Draco smiled sleepily, hand sliding out from under the cloak to grab
Harry’s wrist. “Go t’sleep.”

            “Okay,” Harry nodded, glancing over at the potion. They did have about three hours
before anything needed to be added to it. And besides, it was almost cute, the way Draco really
didn’t seem like himself when half asleep.

            “‘mere,” Draco slurred, and Harry let out a yelp when Draco tugged on his arm hard
enough to send him crashing to the floor. Draco only chuckled sleepily at Harry’s muffled
declarations of protest, and snuggled back under his own cloak. “Sleep.” He commanded, nearly
asleep himself.

            “Fine,” Harry grumbled, heaving himself off his stomach on onto his side. He nearly
stopped breathing when he realized just how incredibly close to the blond he now lay. So close,
in fact, that when Draco breathed out, Harry’s hair ruffled in the breeze.

            This was not a good idea, he rationalized, and made to get up.

            As quickly as before, Draco’s hand was locked around his wrist. “I said, sleep,” Draco
muttered, brows furrowing over his closed eyes. “I can’t sleep when you keep moving.”

            Harry had to wonder if maybe Draco wasn’t a lot more awake than he had been letting on.
He sounded quite lucid now. “Fine.”

            “Good,” Draco muttered, moving his head a little on the jumper he’d bunched up as a
pillow, but didn’t remove his hand from around Harry’s wrist.

***

            Harry woke up pleasantly warm and comfortable. Scrunching his head further down into
his soft pillow, he smiled, warm and safe. He hadn’t dreamed at all, not even had nightmares,
whether induced by Voldemort or any other kind. It was nice.

            Although his mattress did feel a lot harder than normal...

            “Potion’s ready.”

            Blinking, Harry realized that he was looking at a stone floor and not at his sheets, and sat
up sharply. Draco Malfoy sat across a cauldron from him, watching him placidly, backlit by
golden afternoon sun that shone in behind him.

            “Huh?” He asked, intelligently of course. ((Sarcastic bastard, Harry accused himself.))

            “Potion’s ready.” Draco repeated, looking calm. “I figured since you were awake, you
should know. I just added the time turner sand.” His hand waved lazily at the remains of the
golden device. “So all it needs is my hair, and we’ll be ready.”

            “Oh.” Harry scratched at his head, messing his already disheveled hair even further.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”

            “You looked tired last night,” Draco said calmly, but he wasn’t meeting his eyes. “Plus,
you didn’t move when I moved you, so I thought you must have been exhausted.”

            Moved...? Harry was bewildered for a moment, until he looked down and realized that he
had gone to sleep without any head support this morning, and now Draco’s emerald coloured
jumper had been folded up and placed under his head. For that matter, he had just been wearing
his cloak, and Draco’s heavier winter cloak had been draped over him too, like a blanket.
Embarrassed suddenly, Harry looked away sheepishly, then asked, “How long did I sleep?”

            “A while,” Draco said lightly. “It’s 3:10 now.”

            3:10.

            Why was that important?

            “Shit!” Harry yelped, suddenly sitting bolt upright, horror written all over his face.

            “What is your problem?” Draco asked, confused.

            “3:10. Ron and Hermione are coming.”

            “What?”

            “It’s after three, and they will now be looking for me.” Seeing the other’s bewildered
expression, Harry forced himself to swallow, and tried to explain. “I made Hermione promise
that she would never look for me within 24 hours of having gone missing, since I was moping
and wanted to be left alone.”

            “And if you were captured? Killed?” Draco looked dubious. “Seeing as how you are who
you are, isn’t that dangerous?”

            “She made a charm, lets her know if I’m on school grounds or in grave danger,” Harry
ground out, then fumbled to find the two beakers they’d smuggled in from the Great Hall.
Thrusting them towards Draco, he said, “Here. We need to take it now.”

            “If you make them wait twenty-four hours, then they’ll just be coming now,” Draco
sighed, not seeing what the big fuss was. “It’s a big school, Harry. It’ll take them an hour at
least.”

            “No...” Harry tugged on his hair. “Hermione is allowed to go into my trunk. I have a
map.”

            “A map.”

            “A map of Hogwarts,” Harry let out in a breath, then paused, before spilling forth with
the rest of the information. In for a Knut, in for a Galleon. “It shows where everyone is in the
school. And ten minutes ago, Hermione will have pulled out that map, said the magic words, and
seen two dots labeled ‘Draco Malfoy’ and ‘Harry Potter’ in the third floor girl’s bathroom.”

            “Shit,” Draco said suddenly, agreeing with him, and began to scoop potion into the
beakers. “Where in the world did you get that?”

            “My father made it,” Harry figured that was simple enough to last for now.

            “Hn,” Draco muttered in interest, then grabbed his wand, pulled a few hairs away from
the rest of them, and hissed, “Severio.” Dropping a few pale blond hairs in each beaker - which
bubbled and steamed and altogether sizzled in a most alarming manner - he reached over the
cauldron, handing it to Harry. “Cheers,” he said lightly, clicking the edges of the glasses together,
then tossed his head back and imbibed the liquid.

            Harry could only watch with almost morbid fascination as Draco’s throat muscles flexed
and moved, then Draco thunked the beaker down on the floor, wiping the back of his mouth with
his hand.

            “How does it taste?” Harry didn’t want to guess, from the horrible grimace that flickered
across the blond’s features.

            “Like death,” Draco grunted, then glanced up at him. “You’d better drink that before the
Gryffindorks get here.”

            The door slammed open, and the horrified voices of his friends cried, “Harry!”

            “Too late,” Harry muttered, and before either Ron or Hermione could say anything more,
tossed the beaker back.

            Draco was right, it did taste like death. And unpleasant death too, not quick and easy
Adavra Kedavra death. More like slow and tortuous Crucio death. He could feel his taste buds
wanting to give up and die on the spot, but it really wasn’t all that much worse than the
remembered taste of the Polyjuice potion from second year, and at least this potion wouldn’t turn
him into someone else.

            At least, it better not.

            Setting his own beaker down heavily, Harry gagged, making a face. “Awful.”

            “Harry, what are you doing?” Hermione asked with concern, obviously confused.

            “Sorry, Hermione.” Harry sighed, looking up to see her and Ron in the doorway.
Hermione just looked worried. Ron looked like he was debating whether to kill Draco or to faint
on the spot.

            “For what?” Ron asked, eyes flitting over to look at Draco for a moment. Draco, for his
part, looked remarkably calm, given the circumstances.

            “For lying to you.”

            “Oh, you mean not coming to Hogsmede yesterday?” Hermione gave him a sharp look. “I
would have rather you’d have just told us the truth, Harry.”

            Harry shrugged.

            Hermione frowned, then asked, “What did you buy in Knockturn Alley, Harry?”

            “Knockturn Alley?!”Ron spluttered, horrified. “That’s dark arts, stuff! What were you
doing there, Harry?!”

            Draco sneered. “Ever the noble Gryffindor. We didn’t buy anything dark, Weasel, relax.”

            Just as Ron was bout to snap at the Slytherin, Harry sighed, and interrupted. “We bought
a time turner.”

            Hermione looked alarmed. “Those are illegal without Ministry permission!”

            Harry toed the remains of the time turner towards her. “I don’t think that’ll be much
problem right now.”

            Hermione stared down at the twisted metal and glass remains, then softly asked, without
looking up, “What did you want with time turner sand, Harry?”

            Harry shrugged again, then pushed himself to his feet, and looked down at the cauldron.
“Draco, do we need to drink any more of this?”

            Ron let out a strangled choking sound at the use of Draco’s first name, and even
Hermione looked alarmed.

            Draco didn’t even blink. “No.”

            “Will we need to at any later point?”

            “No.”

            “Good. Scourgify.”

            Instantly the magical soup bubbles began scrubbing out the cauldron, and Draco gave him
a look like he was insane. “What was that for?”

            “Now Snape can’t figure out what we brewed, and they can’t drink it,” Harry said calmly,
then looked down at the jumper and cloak at his feet. “Do you want your clothes?”

            Ron’s choking apparently intensified.

            “Hmm. Good idea,” Draco nodded, and stood as well, tugging his jumper on when Harry
handed it to him, then swinging his cloak on. “I don’t know about you, but this is one very
awkward situation I’d be like to be leaving as soon as possible.”

            “Ha!”

            The triumphant laugh made both them and Hermione jump, and they all turned to stare at
Ron, who was pointing at Draco with a slightly shaking hand. “I knew it! You’ve drugged him,
or something, haven’t you?!”

            “What?” Harry asked, bewildered.

            “Or... or it’s Imperio!” Ron continued. “I knew it, you Malfoy bastard, using
Unforgiveables on Harry, wait’ll the Headmaster hears...”

            “Impossible.” Draco said smugly, quirking an eyebrow at him.

            “What?” Ron spluttered. “Don’t you think I won’t, I know Dumbledore would...”

            “No, Weasel.” Draco smirked. “I meant, it’s impossible to cast Imperio on Harry. He
shakes it off like it’s nothing.”

            “He has got a point, Ron,” Hermione said quietly.

            “But...” Ron gaped, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. “But...”

            “I hope your Apparation theory is correct,” Harry broke the awkward moment, beginning
to walk around the cauldron towards Draco. “Since we didn’t have a chance to test it.”

            “Apparation?” Hermione repeated, looking warily back and forth between the two of
them. “You can’t Apparate while on Hogwart’s grounds. It’s in...”

            “Hogwarts: A History, I know,” Harry grinned, good naturedly. “In a minute or two, we’ll
see, won’t we? I mean, if this works the way it’s supposed to, you will, anyway.”

            “Harry,” Hermione said slowly, softly. “What are you doing?”

            Harry didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure how he could.

            Instead, Draco stretched out a single arm, waiting. Ignoring his friends flinches and
expressions of horror, Harry stepped forward so that he stood against the other boy’s chest, and
Draco wrapped that extended arm around him, effectively capturing Harry inside his cloak.

            “Harry,” Ron said, in a strangled, horrified voice.

            “Sorry,” Harry shrugged, then turned to look at Draco. “Ready.”

            Draco smirked the smirk of the triumphant. “Let’s go.”

            And they disappeared.
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Hogwarts Express