"Potter," Zabini said, looking Harry up and down with a grimace. "So it's true then, you really are living together?"
"Got a problem with that?" Harry asked. If Zabini was going to cause trouble, he could leave now. Stuff Malfoy.
But Zabini only smirked and said, "amazed you haven't killed each other yet." Then he held out his arm as if he were escorting Harry instead of the other way around.
Harry apparated them both to the empty plot of land that marked number twelve and a half Grimmauld place and told Zabini the address. Zabini's eyes widened in surprise as the house materialized in front of him.
"Neat," he said, and stepped up to the door.
Malfoy opened the door before he reached it. "Welcome to Potter's humble abode," he said, his lip curling. "And believe me, it is humble."
Zabini laughed and stepped through the door. Harry followed, rolling his eyes at Malfoy.
"If you two crazy kids need me, I'll be in my room," he said, taking his new Seeker's handbook and heading up the stairs. Malfoy led Zabini into the living room with barely a nod in Harry's direction.
Harry went up to his bedroom and settled down on the bed to read his training manual.
A Seeker should never rely on only one of their five senses, he read. But should use all five simultaneously, and be able to instantly adjust to the sudden loss of one or more senses, such as can be caused by severe weather conditions. To prepare for this, Seekers should build up to the ability to perform a Seekers' Run blindfold.
Harry raised his eyebrows at that, wondering how difficult it would be, and read on. The book outlined several ways to prepare for a blindfold Seekers' Run, but Harry found that none of them really appealed to him. It seemed a strange way to learn how to practice for bad weather, since you were flooded with visual information during a storm. Flying in a storm wasn't about learning how to fly and seek without visual information, it was about learning how to filter all the suddenly useless visual information that your body automatically wanted to prioritize.
He frowned and wondered if there were some localized weather spell he could use that would be better to learn with. But then that would make Malfoy fly equally as poorly, so they couldn't really push each other to fly better if they both had the same handicap.
Then it hit him: the cloak. If the leader wore the cloak, the follower would have to match their movements while having no idea visually where they were, while simultaneously telling their brain to ignore the visual information that was insisting there was no one next to them. He grinned. Suddenly he was eager to go flying and try it out.
Since Zabini was downstairs, he contented himself for reading the first three chapters of the manual instead. The book was perfect; he felt an overwhelming urge to send Krum flowers.
He decided to savor the experience and set his book down. He moved over to his quidditch model, but found he was having trouble focusing on the strategy in play. Thinking about the cloak had got him wondering about the Hallows again. As much as he would be happy if he never had to read another history book again, he badly wanted to find out more about the stone of wisdom. It certainly seemed that Dumbledore hadn't known that was the true purpose of the stone, which made Harry desperate to know if the other Hallows were also more than Dumbledore had thought they were. He knew it didn't matter anymore, but what if someone was still after the Hallows? He had two of them after all; someone could come after him.
He wondered if Grindelwald had known more than Dumbledore had. It was more than likely, since they had traveled such different paths at the end. Which meant that whatever Grindelwald had known, Voldemort had known as well.
He moved the model brooms around idly, wishing there was some way he could have seen what Voldemort had torn from Grindelwald's mind that night. He paused. He couldn't know that, but maybe there was another way he could learn what Grindelwald had known. But Ron and Hermione would never go for it.
He looked at the time and jumped out of his seat. They were visiting Nurmengard tomorrow, if the owl hadn't been delayed. He would have to Floo them now.
He ran quickly down the stairs, the thick carpet muffling his steps. He stepped into the living room, ready to ask Malfoy and Zabini if he could use the fire quickly, and stopped dead.
Zabini was stretched out on the couch over Malfoy, his arms resting either side of Malfoy's head. Malfoy's arms were wrapped around Zabini's waist, Zabini's shirt scrunched and disheveled in Malfoy's hands. Harry must have made a sound, because Zabini's head whipped up from Malfoy's neck. He saw Harry standing there and smirked. Malfoy turned his head to the door and gave a start, his face flushed.
Harry immediately spun around and left, managing to squeak out something that was meant to be an apology. He walked into the kitchen since it was the easiest path to take and sat down. His heart was racing like he'd just sprinted. He'd had no idea that Zabini and Malfoy were together at all, so he hadn't thought to knock or enter slowly. When Malfoy had brought Zabini the other night, Harry had never thought it was a proper date. They were friends, that was it, wasn't it? Apparently not. Harry wasn't sure why that gave him such an uncomfortable feeling.
He decided that he would rather face an army of Death Eaters than go back into his living room, so he put on the kettle and decided to wait until Zabini left. It was nearly dinner time, so he shouldn't be staying much longer.
Sure enough, after less than ten minutes he heard the front door quietly close. Harry crossed his fingers and prayed to anyone listening that Malfoy would go straight upstairs.
Malfoy came in the kitchen door. "Heard of knocking, Potter?" he said with a sneer. His face was still slightly pink, but he had smoothed his hair down and looked relatively normal.
Not that Harry could look at him to confirm. "Heard of a bedroom, Malfoy?" he told the wall.
Malfoy snorted and moved behind Harry to the kettle. Harry jumped up. "I'm going to Floo Ron and Hermione," he said, and moved to the door.
Malfoy made a noise like a protest. Involuntarily, Harry stopped and looked back. Malfoy's face had an expression of faint confusion. Harry didn't stay to find out why.
He walked into the living room and threw the powder into the fireplace, missing completely. He swore and kicked at the green powder staining the dark carpet. He scourified it and tried again. This time the fire flared green. He stuck his head through and said Krum's address, hoping they were home.
He waited for the fire to confirm that Krum had accepted, and blinked up at the burly Seeker.
"Harry," Krum said with a surprised grunt. "You received my gift?"
"I did," Harry said with a grin. "It's brilliant. Thank you. I'm going to start training later today I hope."
Krum gave a pleased smile. "You have a training partner?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, another seeker. He's a great flier, so hopefully those techniques will be good practice."
Krum nodded and stood up. "You vill be after Hermy-own-nee and Ron?"
"If that's alright?"
Krum nodded and went to fetch them. Before long Ron and Hermione entered the living room, looking down at the fire in surprise.
"Harry," Ron said with a grin. "What're you doing Flooing us for? We're meant to Floo you."
"That's right, Harry," Hermione added, kneeling to the floor in front of him. "It's very expensive. Why didn't you just owl us?" She looked concerned and faintly suspicious. Harry suppressed a grin.
"I'll just be quick," he said, looking around to see if Krum had followed them in. He hadn't. "I wanted to ask you something."
Hermione's suspicious expression began to supersede her concern. Fortunately, Harry had already thought of the right way to twist the facts to make sure she couldn't refuse.
"There's a Death Eater after the Hallows," he said quietly. Which could be true, they just weren't sure. "And for some reason, he knows something about them that we don't. Since I've got two of them, I'd like to know exactly what this guy knows, in case it helps me when he finally figures out I have them."
Hermione frowned, while Ron looked stricken.
"Are you sure he's going to come after you?" Hermione asked. "Maybe you should just report it to Shacklebot. You're safer if you don't go looking into it yourself."
Harry shook his head. "The Elder Wand is mine. It doesn't matter where I keep it, or who I get to protect it. If someone is after the wand they're going to come after me. I need to know what they're up to."
Hermione pursed her lips, but didn't disagree. "What do you need us to do?" she asked in a tone that suggested she had already guessed.
"I want you to look in Grindelwald's library," Harry said, somewhat sheepishly. Ron's jaw dropped. "If anyone can find a useful book in a short amount of time, it's you, Hermione."
Hermione looked somewhat mollified at the compliment, although not convinced. "There's bound to be anti-theft spells all over the place," she said.
"You'll be able to figure it out, I'm sure," Harry said with a grin. If she was already talking about how to do it, she had agreed. She just didn't want to admit it.
Ron looked from Hermione to Harry and back again. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked. "I hate to break it to you, but Grindelwald was kind of a bad wizard, and you saw what the books in the Restricted Section of the library could do to you. Imagine the spells he's got set up on his own library. Plus, surely other people would have gone through his collection? It would be valuable, wouldn't it?"
Hermione shook her head. "It's precisely because the collection is so valuable that it's all still there," she said. "It's small, but it's one of the most comprehensive collections of dark magic texts in the world. It's kept under heavy guard at Grindelwald's fortress to make sure that the books don't get into the wrong hands and to keep their secrets. If you want to read one of the texts, you have to apply and provide all your research background to prove that you need the text and aren't just looking out of curiosity. It actually goes completely against the ideals of freedom of information," she said with a sniff. "But that's a whole other issue."
"So, you're up for the challenge?" Harry said with a grin.
Ron looked at him askance, while Hermione merely frowned. "I don't think you realise just how difficult it's going to be," she said warily. "And you haven't given us much time."
"But imagine how interesting his collection would be to read," Harry said persuasively.
Hermione bit her lip. "I can't promise anything," she said finally. "But I'll see what I can do."
"You're wonderful, Hermione," Harry said, beaming up at her. She blushed.
Ron still looked worried, but he seemed resigned if Hermione had agreed. "If you're sure," he said hesitantly. "But you'll be careful, right?"
Harry nodded. Ron suddenly grinned. "So, how's Malfoy?" he asked eagerly. Hermione elbowed him sharply.
The image of Zabini sprawled lazily across Malfoy's body jumped, unbidden, into Harry's mind. He pushed it firmly away. "Fine," he said, his voice slightly higher than normal.
Hermione looked at him curiously.
"I'd better go," he said quickly. "I'll talk to you later."
Harry pulled his head back almost before Ron and Hermione had said goodbye, and found Malfoy sitting behind him on the couch, reading.
"Christ, don't you have anything better to do?" Harry asked in exasperation.
"Not since you ruined the mood," Malfoy said airily.
Harry blushed and looked away. Malfoy eyed him, but didn't say anything.
"Good idea," Malfoy said finally. "Getting Granger to raid Grindelwald's library."
"Thanks," Harry said, sitting down. "Figured it would probably have what we're after."
Malfoy nodded. Then he put down his book with a sigh. "I'm sick of reading," he said with a wry grin, surprising a laugh out of Harry.
"We could do a Seekers' Run?" Harry suggested. "I've got a new technique I want to try."
Malfoy's eyes lit up. It was surprisingly endearing. "You're on," he said, and stood up.
Within half an hour they were down at the oval. After a quick warm up, Harry pulled out the cloak.
Malfoy eyed it with distaste. "So there it is," he said. "That's how you got away with everything. I thought you had one, but I wasn't sure. It seemed too unlikely. Turns out you had the best one of all."
Harry shrugged. "Do you want to wear it first, or will I?"
"Me," Malfoy said, grinning and snatching the cloak. He threw it over himself and disappeared.
Harry pointed his wand and cast a quick charm to make sure it didn't fly off Malfoy halfway through the Run. He mounted his broom.
"So, I guess you lead the whole way," he said, shifting and trying to hear where Malfoy was. He felt a small rush of air at his right and figured Malfoy was in place. "Take it slow to start."
"You wish," Malfoy said with a laugh. Harry heard the unmistakable rush of a broomstick taking off and leapt into the air to follow.
It was surreal. He knew that Malfoy was on his right, but his brain told him that was impossible. There was nothing there. It wasn't like walking next to Ron and Hermione the few times that they had been under the cloak when he wasn't, because that was slow. It didn't matter if you bumped into them, and your brain wasn't processing its surroundings at lightning speed. Harry had to fight against every instinct that told him he was in the open and focus instead on the sound of Malfoy breathing and the rustle of the cloak through the air.
Something changed and the surrounding noise seemed suddenly less. After a second, he realised that Malfoy must have turned away. He banked quickly to the right and sped up. He felt something brush against his shoulder.
"Christ, Potter!" Harry heard Malfoy exclaim. "That was close."
"Sorry," he muttered, and gritted his teeth, trying to focus more.
He found that if he relaxed just slightly, he could make the surroundings fade, like they did when he had his eye on the Snitch. Except he didn't have his eye on anything. Instead of zoning in on the small spot of gold in his vision, he zoned in on the movements of air against his arm, on the subtle sense that told him someone was there, on the sound of a broom other than his own. And something else, something he couldn't identify, that told him Malfoy was close.
He heard a split-second of silence in the rush of noise all around him, and the 'something else' that he couldn't identify faded. He banked right.
"Good one, Potter," Malfoy said in surprise. "You weren't that far behind."
Harry grinned. He heard the noise get louder and he sped up, matching Malfoy's new speed. Something brushed his arm. He didn't think, just automatically banked left.
Malfoy whooped next to his ear as they changed directions flawlessly without crashing.
With a shock, Harry realised that the 'something else' was the smell of Malfoy's shampoo against the clean cut grass of the oval. Harry was so focused on Malfoy's presence, trying to sense where Malfoy was without sight, that his brain had latched on unwittingly to Malfoy's scent, making Harry feel like his nose was buried deep in Malfoy's hair.
Something changed, but he was too distracted to sense what it was and he crashed straight into Malfoy, sending them both tumbling through the air. Harry lost hold of his broom and plummeted to the ground.
Just before he hit, he felt Malfoy grab him and pull him onto his broom, flying the last metre to the ground and sending them both crashing onto the grass.
Malfoy pulled off the cloak and stared down at Harry, his eyes wide and shocked. "Always grab your broom, you idiot!" he snapped, whacking Harry with the cloak. "Do I need to get you a training cable so that you can't fall off?"
Harry took a deep breath and began to sit up. Then he realised that Malfoy was lying over him where they had fallen, propped up with his arms on either side of Harry's chest. Almost like Zabini had been earlier.
Malfoy seemed to realise and pulled back.
"Yeah," Harry said, sitting up and running his hand through his hair, not looking at Malfoy. "I guess I just got confused."
Malfoy made a rude noise and threw the cloak at him, standing up. "My turn now," he said.
Harry threw the cloak on and stood up, mounting his broom at Malfoy's right, shoulder to shoulder. Malfoy looked to his right curiously.
"I know you're there," he said, looking all around at where Harry was standing. "But my brain insists you're not. It's very strange." He peered closer, as if trying to see a glimmer of movement.
As Malfoy looked for Harry, Harry studied him. Malfoy's face was flushed from flying. His hair was a tangled mess and his eyes as they searched were bright with excitement. Harry noticed that he had extraordinarily long eyelashes, dark against the pale of his skin and hair. Without thinking, Harry's eyes slid to Malfoy's lips, soft and full.
"I can hear you breathing," Malfoy said curiously. "Is that how you knew where I was?"
"Sometimes," Harry said, turning back to the front. "But there were other ways, too." He pushed off and heard Malfoy do the same, a split second behind.