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Harry leaned against the wall outside the Potions classroom the next afternoon, hands deep in trouser pockets and a grin on his face. The rest of his classmates gave him odd looks as they all waited for the door to open.

"You look rather happy," observed Draco. "Good news?"

"You could say that," Harry said enigmatically. He felt his conversation with Voldemort the night before had gone particularly well.

Snape came striding around the corner with his characteristic billowing robes. He threw open the door and sneered at the students. "In!" he barked. "Don't waste my time."

Draco said to Harry in an undertone as they passed by Snape, "Pair up with me? I don't fancy being shunted over to Finnegan again just so Professor Snape can stick you with Longbottom."

Harry snickered. "Alright. What is it today, antidotes again?"

"The entire semester is antidotes, Potter," Snape said in his ear as the students all took their seats. Harry jumped, startled. "Keep forgetting, and I'll test out their efficacy on /you/- starting with Longbottom's."

Harry glared half-heartedly at his professor's back. The man whirled toward the front of the class and waved his wand at the board. "Last year you learned how to make Shrinking Solution. This year you will learn the antidote." The ingredients and directions appeared in chalk behind him. "Get started!"

"I'll get the ingredients," Harry offered.

Draco nodded, studying the Potions book and the board.

"Yes, Miss Bulstrode," Harry heard Snape saying as he picked up salamander teeth with a small pair of tweezers, "I'll be in my office all evening on Monday. You and your friends are welcome to use the Potions lab then, as long as you have your homework done."

Harry smirked inwardly. He couldn't wait to see the look on Snape's face when he showed up with Millie and Ted.

"There's something odd about these ingredients," Draco commented when Harry brought the tray back. He poked through them with a long finger. "I've seen this recipe before."

"Newton's Laws of Physics applies to our Potions class," Hermione said from a desk over. "Mainly, every reaction has an equal and opposite reaction."

"Trevor the toad turned into a tadpole," Harry said thoughtfully. "So if it shrinks inanimate objects"-

"It de-ages living things!" Draco exclaimed quietly. "The antidote's a modified Aging Potion!"

Snape overheard. "Five points to Slytherin for correctly interpreting the relationship between a potion and its antidote," he said to Draco.

"Granger's the one who really got it," Draco said, noticing Hermione's frown. "She was talking about some Newt on Laws of Physics."

"Is that so, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape turned to Hermione. "Two points from Gryffindor for bringing bizarre Muggle theories into a Potions class."

He swept back to the front of the room and took a seat at his desk, where he began to grade a stack of tests. Judging by the amount of red ink used, the tests in question belonged to First Years.

Git, Harry thought rebelliously as he strained the pickled silkworm cocoons over a bowl. Snape hadn't changed much at all. So much for trying to be civil.

"Ignore him," Draco whispered. "You can always go earn some more points in Arithmancy on Monday."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out explosively. "You're right," he said softly, quirking a smile at Draco. "He's not worth it."

They finished their potion in amiable silence, pointing at ingredients or nudging each other if attention was needed. The two of them were rather pleased with their final product, even if it was a hair on the thin side. They'd managed to get the color the exact shade of virulent orange.

"Potter!" Snape called Harry back into the classroom when everyone was packed up and leaving.

"Professor," Harry said neutrally.

"Tell me, Potter," Snape said, swirling Harry's potion sample in its stoppered vial lazily, "If I were to ask you how to thicken this, you would say what."

"That flobberworm pus-the usual thickener-would react badly with the salamander teeth, and I'd have to start over again," Harry said warily.

Snape eyed him speculatively. "In most cases, I'd agree. However, Potter, a half-teaspoon of cornstarch would put it at the proper consistency without any ill effects."

Harry stared. "Cornstarch, Professor? As in, common kitchen pantry cornstarch?"

"Yes, Potter, cornstarch." Snape wrote 'E.E.' on Harry's sample in spidery letters and looked up again. "Well, Potter?"

"Er," Harry fumbled. "Thanks for the tip, Professor."

Snape sneered at him. "You have a brain, Potter. I don't want my students wasting their minds."

"Right." Harry walked out the door slowly, looking over his shoulder at every other step. "Bye, Professor."

A fearsome scowl was all he got in return.

Huh, he thought on his way to dinner. Maybe he's not so bad.

**

The roar of chatter in the Great Hall during dinner faded as Dumbledore stood up at the Head Table to make an announcement. With all eyes trained on him in expectation, he said loudly, "It is my great pleasure to tell you all that the delegations from L'Ecole Beauxbatons and Durmstrang Institute will be arriving in two weeks, on the thirtieth." His bright eyes shot over to the sixth years at the Gryffindor table for an instant when he added, "Please don't make our caretaker's job any harder in getting the castle ready for our guests."

Everyone began to talk excitedly as Dumbledore resumed his seat.

"How do you suppose they'll get here?" Pansy asked Harry, who was sitting with the Slytherins again.

He shrugged. "No clue. They'll probably do something in grand style, though."

"One of Father's friends went to Durmstrang," Ted put in. "Said something about a ship they take to the Institute. I forget what it was called."

"I heard about that, too," Draco said. "What was it? The /Levitating Norwegian/?"

Harry choked on his pumpkin juice. "The /Flying Dutchman/? They sail on the /Flying Dutchman/?"

Ted snapped his fingers. "That's it! Why? You know the ship, Harry?"

Harry laughed and shook his head, bemused. "Er...it's just a Muggle ghost story. Forget it, Ted. It's not worth telling."

"Guess some former headmaster at Durmstrang had a sense of humor," Blaise put in.

"Sure, sure," Draco interrupted. "The important thing is that you have to sit with us the day they arrive."

"Meet the Durmstrang contingent?" Harry asked wryly.

"Exactly!" Draco nodded.

"Odds on Durmstrang sitting here?" Vince asked.

"Fifty-fifty," Blaise said. "Ravenclaw's decent odds too."

"I'd say it's a sure bet," Pansy disagreed. "Beauxbatons students will see the House politics easy. They won't go for Gryffindor, and they'll want intellectuals to talk to. Beauxbatons for Ravenclaw, Durmstrang for Slytherin."

Greg wrote quickly. "Right. Who's on Durmstrang here?" Several fourth and fifth years dug into their pockets for coins. "Uh-huh. And against?"

"Try Gryffindor House," Draco suggested, smirking.

Harry snorted. "Sixth years and fourth years in Gryffindor will bet against, definitely. I'm for."

Millie laughed. "You're such a snake, Potter."

"Wolf in sheep's clothing, Millie," he said with a wink.

Vince and Greg collected a smattering of bets on Beauxbatons' seating as well. A few were sure they'd go to the Hufflepuff table, but many were swayed by Pansy's argument.

Harry realized that he'd never been more at ease than he was sitting at the House table of his former school rivals, eating and laughing, Draco's thigh pressed against his as he gestured wildly to Ted with his fork. It was an odd feeling, that heady sensation of belonging.

"'Or perhaps in Slytherin, you'll make your real friends,'" he murmured to himself.

"What's that, Potter?" Draco asked.

Harry smiled. "Nothing much. Just words from a song I heard a few years ago."

**

It was with a collective sigh of relief that Harry his friends ducked inside Snape's classroom that Monday evening after supper. The entire ground floor reeked of Mrs. Skower's Magical Mess Remover, and Filch was stalking groups of students that looked like they might be getting too close to the highly-polished suits of armor.

"That man is a nightmare," Draco declared as they set up a table with supplies and ingredients.

"To be fair," Millie said practically, "he is the only one who cleans the castle. I'd be in a right state about it myself, with hundreds of students all over the place."

"Sure," Ted said dismissively. "But does he have to be such a bloody bastard about it?"

"After my father and their friends got through Hogwarts, I'm not surprised he's the way he is," Harry said. He measured out a beaker of Antipodean Opaleye blood that Charlie had owled him at his request. "From what they say, they were extraordinary pranksters. From what their targets say, they were right gits."

Draco poured the vial of leech juice into the dragon blood and they all watched, breathlessly, as a large bubble rose from the center of the beaker and the mixture abruptly turned translucent yellow.

Ted let out an uncharacteristic yell of triumph. "Yes!"

Millie looked to Draco expectantly. "Mandrake juice or strained crocodile tongues next?"

"Hmm. Crocodile first, I think." She handed over the thick green liquid gingerly.

Draco stirred it clockwise carefully with Harry's copper stirring rod.

"Harry! Are you seeing this?" Ted demanded.

"'M working on the battery casings," he said briefly, not looking up from where he was chiseling along lines in plates of copper.

"Mandrake juice!" Draco interrupted impatiently. "Now!"

Ted thrust it into his hand.

Harry tuned them out with a single-minded focus and turned to the other packet he'd received from Charlie. The Opaleye had been a young male in the prime of his life when he crashed during an early fall storm up in the Carpathians. Charlie had harvested a good five heartstrings for Harry- the rest were sent off to Gregorovich's Wands in Russia.

Harry laid the first of the heartstrings in the path of the deep-cut rune set. Tracing it with his wand, he melted the edges of the copper just enough to hold the magical core. He quickly followed suit with the other four battery cases.

"We're done, Harry," Millie announced. "You?"

"Give me the potion," he said in answer.

"/Harry/," Ted breathed reverently, "Are those /heartstrings/?"

"Mm-hmm," he said distractedly, pouring the 'juice' cautiously into the casings. They took on a soft glow and pulsed gently to life, thrumming lightly under his hands.

"Those are Class C limited trade substances," Draco said in awe. "Where the hell did you get them?"

Harry looked up and grinned. "Charlie Weasley. A dragon died last week up at the preserve. He saved me some."

"Flaunting your connections, Potter?"

Snape had come out to see what they were doing. He sneered disdainfully at Harry while peering over Ted's shoulder to look at the batteries and leftover potion.

"Charlie owed me a favor," Harry said lightly. He was determined not to let Snape get to him. "I did some translating for him in Cardiff over the summer. This was just repayment."

Snape gave him a long look before sitting back at his desk and watching them finish up, eyes intense.

"Come on, then, Harry," Ted encouraged. "Put the batteries in the mobiles, I want to know if it worked."

Draco laughed. "It worked all right!" He stopped, worried. "Are we going to have trouble with the Ministry, having magical cores in these?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't know yet. I expect not, since there's no precedent." The new copper battery slid into the makeshift slot in the mobile smoothly. Millie clapped when the lights of the phone blinked on, bright in the dim light of the lab.

"Hand them over, Potter," she cried gleefully. "I'll set the numbers!"

"H. Potter for mine, if you please-you can see the letters underneath the numbers," he requested as he handed over the five mobiles.

The others quickly determined their numbers as well.

"D. Malfoy, I suppose."

"Ted Nott-I'll go with the seven-digit scheme."

"And I'll have Millie B.," the stocky witch said decisively. She quickly programmed their phones and handed them back.

They looked at each other, stunned, before Draco broke it with a whoop. "We did it!" he cried.

Harry swooped down on Millie and hugged her tight. "Project number one is a success!"

He traded backslaps with Ted, and, when Ted and Millie embraced in congratulations, impulsively grabbed Draco in a hug as well.

He felt Draco freeze inside his arms, but before he could let go, the hug was being returned in force. Harry smiled. His best friend was one of the best things to happen this year. He huffed a small laugh.

"You know we're going to be up all night talking now, with these things," He said laughingly.

Draco stepped back, blushing lightly. "I don't doubt it," was all he said, however.

Snape nodded his congratulations to the quartet as they left the classroom late that evening, still high on their success.

**

The heartbeat of Harry's phone, slow and steady in his sleep, spiked wildly, startling him from a dreamless sleep. He sat up drowsily and looked at the mellow light of the screen:

D. Malfoy
calling
H. Potter

"You twat," Harry grumped into the phone. "I was sleeping."

"Not anymore, obviously!" Draco was wide awake. "Come on, Potter, there's lots to talk about, and the night's young!"

Harry grinned. He was suddenly very alert. "Yeah?" he asked. "Like what?"

"Well," Draco said thoughtfully, "I want to know what you were thinking about when you were talking about the /Levitating Norwegian/."

"The /Flying Dutchman/, Malfoy," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Oh, let's see. Muggles tell this story about a cursed sailing ship...."

They were up all night.

A.N. A funny thing happened the other day. Someone asked if they could write a side-story to my story. I felt all-powerful and wise. Then I went and ate a PB&J, and found out that peanut butter sticks to the roof of my mouth just like it does everyone else's.
ALSO! Harry's just exuberant. Draco's crush is unrequited. The slash version is on HPFandom, archived under the same title.