The Last Two Standing
Chapter 5
Harry let his head fall back against the window behind him as the motion of the train lulled him to sleep. While Harry drifted in and out of sleep, Draco and the older man who shared their compartment carried on an animated conversation about world politics. Although Harry found it surprising that Draco knew so much about the goings-on in the Muggle world, he was too tired to come up with a suitable comment.
As soon as they arrived at King's Cross Station and left the train, Draco pulled Harry behind some large bins and looked around warily.
"What's your problem now?" Harry grumbled.
"I thought you were going to start using that paperweight on your shoulders for something besides immortal target practice, Potter," Draco said, arms crossed. "As soon as someone from our world sees you, rumors of the Boy Who Lived Again are going to start flying. Do you really want your friends to hear about your resurrection through the wizarding grapevine?"
Harry let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyes. "What would you suggest? I have to get to the Floo network to get to the Burrow."
Draco gazed at Harry critically. "Your eyes are a rather memorable green that is bound to get noticed as is that disfigurement on your head. Perhaps a hat to hide that hideous scar and a pair of dark glasses. Here." Draco pulled out the hat he had been wearing the day before and put it on Harry's head.
"And that white head of yours won't be noticed?" Harry asked dubiously.
"Well, the Muggles must have some way of changing their hair color," Draco replied. "Or are you going to tell me that blue and green are natural colors for Muggles?"
Harry chuckled as he remembered Draco's disdainful expression when they passed some teens with brightly colored hair. "I guess we'll have to use Adam's card again. We are going to pay him back, right?"
"I trust your Gryffindor morals would allow nothing less," Draco replied.
"Which means I'll be doing the paying," Harry said dryly.
"Without me, you would still be wandering around northern Scotland, lost and hungry."
"Oh? And whose idea was it to ride the train?"
"And who obtained the transportation to the train station?" Draco retorted.
Harry sighed then chuckled ruefully. "You're right, Malfoy. I'd never have made it this far without you."
Draco watched Harry walk toward the street with suspicious eyes. Had Harry just complimented him? Perhaps he had not truly recovered from that blow to the head after all.
~ * ~
"It appears that Draco made it to London, went shopping and rented a hotel room for the night," Methos said as he closed his cell phone.
"We should be able to catch up with him before he checks out in the morning," Joe said. "I'll let the Watchers in London know where he is."
"Any word from the Watchers about Harry?" MacLeod asked.
"No, although it's not like I could give them much in the way of a description."
"Oh, come on, Joe. It's an island… how hard could it be to find one teen-ager somewhere in Great Britain?" Methos asked with a chuckle. "The Watchers must be getting lax since I left them."
MacLeod rolled his eyes. "Come on, you two. You can discuss the current state of the Watchers on the way to London."
~ * ~
Draco muttered a few curses under his breath as he glared at his reflection in the mirror. "This had better come out, Potter."
"It was your idea to dye your hair the Muggle way," Harry pointed out with a grin. "The box says it will wash out with regular shampoo, so stop complaining."
"Fine, let's go before I realize just how low I've sunk, and fall into a debilitating depression that only a great amount of dark chocolate can remedy," Draco said with a pout.
Harry burst out laughing and fell back on the bed. With the promise of seeing his friends in the near future, Harry was in high spirits once again.
At Draco's dark glare, Harry stifled his laughter and sat back up. "How do I look?" he asked, putting on the large sunglasses Draco had bought.
Draco turned away from his reflection and nodded at Harry. "It's an improvement. You should hide your face more often."
Harry stuck out his tongue then grinned. Lately, he had noticed the lack of any real animosity between them. Then he sobered as reality hit him. "I don't have any money and I doubt anyone in Diagon Alley takes credit cards. How will we get wands?"
"Gringotts will be open and they're very discrete. No one will know that we've been there."
"I don't have the key to my vault with me," Harry said.
"You wouldn't be the first person to misplace their key. It might be a hassle of paperwork, but they'll work around it if need be."
Another problem occurred to Harry. "Won't the Goblins think I'm dead?"
Draco smirked at Harry's ignorance. "Goblins have their own way of knowing when a client dies and who the property should be passed on to. You might want to change the name your account is under though, just in case the Ministry becomes curious."
"Adam said something about having different names. I guess it's common among immortals," Harry mused. "Any suggestions?"
"Perhaps a new first and last name with Harold as a middle name. Then you could still answer to Harry," Draco replied. "It's not that uncommon a name."
"Not like Draco," Harry said with a chuckle. "Are you going to change yours?"
"Perhaps I could take the surname of Black. That was my mother's maiden name," Draco said thoughtfully.
"And shorten your first name to Drake," Harry added with a grin.
Draco winced. "From the most of magnificent of beast to a water fowl."
Harry laughed at Draco's expression. "If you don't like Drake, how about Coco?"
"A water fowl it is then," Draco said with a glare at Harry. "And what shall you choose?"
"My mother's maiden name was Evans and my father's name was James," Harry said. "How does Evan Harold James sound?"
"A suitable soubriquet," Draco said with a nod. "I shall become Drake Aiden Black." At Harry's puzzled look, Draco added, "Aiden was a great-uncle that I was rather fond of as a child."
As they left the room, Harry chuckled quietly. "Can I still call you Coco?"
"Only if you enjoy being hexed, James."
"Call me Harry and I'll keep your little nickname between us," Harry said with a laugh.
"Very well," Draco said, and then added haughtily, "and you may address me as Drake." Draco shuddered dramatically as he said the name.
The two teens left the hotel and began their walk to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry, unfamiliar with this part of London, had to trust Draco to lead the way. For some odd reason, that thought did not bother him nearly as much as he thought it should.
After a few minutes of silence, Harry asked, "So, Drake, what are you going to do after we get our wands?"
"A good night's sleep wouldn't be amiss," Draco replied.
"No, I mean, are you going to stay in London? Finish school? Get a job?"
"A job?" Draco said in mock shock. "Surely you jest."
Harry snorted. "Okay, so you plan to be a man of leisure. Any idea where you want to go next?"
"I hear that cruises can be quite relaxing," Draco replied. "Lots of warm sun, blue water, lying by the pool with nothing to do but sip a cold drink…"
"Hmm, just be sure to take along plenty of sun-block."
Draco chuckled as they approached the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. "You're a wizard, Harry. There are spells for that sort of thing."
"Of course," Harry said ruefully. "How else would you keep your skin so pale? It must be a pure-blood thing."
Draco cast a sideways glance at Harry, but saw the smile hovering on his rival's face, so did not take offense as he once would have. "Only those forced to perform manual labor for their day's wages would allow their skin to become blemished by the sun, Harry."
As Harry and Draco made their way to the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron and stepped through the entrance into Diagon Alley, Harry stopped in shock. Wizards and witches, dressed in every color of the rainbow, were dancing about and shouting merrily to each other as music played from several of the closest establishments.
"They've probably been celebrating ever since the Dark Lord was proclaimed dead," Draco yelled over the music.
Harry sputtered in surprise as a witch stopped to kiss him on the mouth and then danced away.
"I didn't know there were this many witches and wizards," Harry said in amazement. He was having very mixed feelings about the wizarding world at that moment. True, Voldemort was dead, but didn't anyone care that Harry Potter was as well (at least, as far as they knew)?
"Let's go," Harry said as he shook his head to clear his thoughts, and began skirting the crowd as he made his way towards the Goblin bank. An occasional glance back reassured him that Draco was still following. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when they finally entered the relatively quiet Gringotts.
"This way," Draco said, steering Harry toward a Goblin that was busily writing numbers in a ledger.
Draco explained to the Goblin who grumpily greeted them that they needed to access their vaults but Harry did not have his key with him.
Harry quickly lost interest in the proceedings as Draco and the Goblin argued for a bit, then the Goblin pulled out what appeared to be a small mountain of paperwork for Harry to sign. After attempting to read the first paragraph of the first page, Harry gave up and just signed where the Goblin pointed. Shortly after, a new key was produced, Harry and Draco visited their vaults, exchanged part of their wizarding money for Muggle money, and then returned to the street where the celebration appeared to be even livelier than before.
"There's a new wand-maker down that way," Draco shouted.
The witch that ran the wand shop was quite pleased to have two customers, as most of the wizarding world was too busy celebrating to frequent her shop. In no time at all, Harry and Draco had found suitable wands and Draco had cajoled the wand shop owner to allow Harry to use her Floo so that he would not have to navigate the crowds again.
"What if the Weasel isn't alone?" Draco asked as he and Harry entered the office where the Floo was. "You will have a difficult time explaining your death to a whole mob of Weasleys."
"That might be a problem," Harry agreed. He had not given much thought to what he would do once he got this far. "Any suggestions?"
"Now that we have wands, a glamour would be a better disguise, especially around people who know you well," Draco said. He performed the charm on Harry then grinned at the results.
"You made me horrid looking, didn't you?" Harry complained.
"Oh, no, Harry. You look good as a blond," Draco said with a laugh, "and the pale, flawless skin is a definite improvement."
Harry groaned at the image that brought to mind. "You made me look like you, you prat."
"Not quite, but you could pass for a distant cousin," Draco said, still grinning.
"Fine, now what do I say if someone besides Ron is there?" Harry asked, beginning to get nervous.
"Just act confused and say you meant to Floo to the Bureau; it's a lovely restaurant in southern France. Then pretend you recognize whoever it is and ask if Ron is there."
Harry shook his head in wonder. "You Slytherins really are devious, aren't you?"
"Thank you for that compliment, Harry," Draco said.
Turning to the fireplace, Harry began to have doubts that visiting the Burrow was the right thing to do.
"What if Mac is right?" Harry said quietly. "Maybe it would be better to just let them move on without me."
"Suit yourself. I'm heading back to my warm, comfortable bed regardless," Draco said as he placed a glamour on himself. He looked like a young version of Snape.
Harry ignored Draco's choice of disguises. "What about you? Do your friends think you're dead?" Harry was surprised that it had never occurred to him to ask before.
"Although it was hardly front page news like some, my obituary was in the Daily Prophet," Draco said, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Since most of my friend's are able to read, I assume that they are aware of my supposed demise."
"And you're not going to tell them you're still alive?" Harry asked.
"Were I still alive, Potter, I would no doubt have to answer to the Ministry for certain events that occurred near the end of our sixth year at Hogwarts," Draco said acidly.
Harry's eyes opened wide. With everything that had happened, he had almost forgotten what Draco had done. "You let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts."
Draco looked startled for a moment, but sidestepped the issue. "I was seen leaving with Snape the night he is suspected to have killed Professor Dumbledore. You, yourself, chased us almost to the gates."
"I saw the whole thing, Malfoy," Harry said softly. "I heard Dumbledore offer you protection. I saw you lower your wand. And I saw Snape…" Harry wasn't able to finish.
"How did you…? That stupid, invisibility cloak," Draco spat out. "Why didn't you do anything, you being the brave Gryffindor and all?"
"Dumbledore petrified me. I couldn't move," Harry managed to say through the choked feeling in his throat. "All I could do was watch… until it was over."
Draco began to back away from Harry. "Is that why you suggested we travel together? You've been planning to turn me over since the beginning, haven't you? You were just waiting until you had a wand."
Before Harry could manage to overcome his surprise at the conclusion Draco had jumped to, Draco disappeared through the office door, then out of the store and into the packed streets. Harry tried to follow, but Draco quickly lost him in the crowds that were still celebrating the new age of peace.
Fuming, Harry made his was back to the Leaky Cauldron, cursing the Slytherin for jumping to unfounded conclusions concerning Harry's intentions. Okay, maybe not completely unfounded, but Harry was in no mood to admit that.
Once inside the inn, Harry paused in front of the fireplace and stared into the flames.
"Do you want to Floo somewhere, young man, or are you just trying to get warm?" Tom, the owner, called over to Harry as Harry debated his next move.
Finally deciding, Harry turned to face Tom. "Do you have Floo powder?"
Tom pulled a container out from under the bar and placed in on the counter. "That'll be two knuts."
Harry handed over the money and dumped the contents of the container in his hand. Stepping back to the fireplace, he took a deep breath and tossed the powder into the flames. "The Burrow," he stated clearly and stepped inside the fireplace.
A moment later, Harry was tumbling out of a fireplace to land ungracefully at the feet of a very startled redhead.
"Who the bloody hell are you and what are you doing here?" Ron said, pulling his wand out and aiming it at Harry.
For a moment, Harry just gaped at his best friend, and then he remembered the glamour.
"Ron, it's me, Harry," Harry said as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. He started to raise his wand to remove the charm, but stopped when Ron took a menacing step forward.
"Harry is dead," Ron said flatly. "Just stay still while we call the Aurors. They can sort out who you are."
Harry sat on the floor, stunned at this turn of events. Draco had not covered this contingency. "Ron, it's just glamour. If you remove it, you'll see I'm telling the truth."
"I'll do it," Hermione said, walking into the room with an angry look on her face. "Then we'll turn you over to the Aurors." Hermione waved her wand and Harry shivered slightly as the glamour faded away.
"Oh my…Harry?" Hermione squeaked as she stared at him wide-eyed. Ron appeared to be doing an imitation of a fish-out-of-water, as his mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
Harry managed a wry grin. "Hey, Hermione, how did you like my disguise?"
Then both his friends were pulling him from the floor and hugging him. None of the three could make out what the others were saying as they all tried to talk at once.
Finally, Hermione let out a loud, piercing whistle, silencing the two boys.
"Merlin's beard, Hermione, I don't think I'll be able to hear right out of that ear again," Ron said, rubbing the ear closest to Hermione.
Hermione ignored the comment and turned to Harry. "Harry, what happened? How did you get here? I thought you were dead."
"Yeah, mate. Hermione swore she saw you hit by the Killing Curse. We both thought you were dead," Ron added with a confused look. "We wouldn't have left you if we hadn't."
Harry looked from one friend to the other, unsure how to start. It had sounded so simple to explain when Mac had told him. "Uh, this might take awhile. Who else is here?"
"Just us, mate. Everyone else is at an Order meeting," Ron said.
"Except Ginny. She's staying at a friend's," Hermione added. "Oh, Harry, she's going to be ecstatic when she finds out you're alive. She's been so upset…well, we all have been, but you know what I mean."
Harry managed a weak smile as Hermione rambled. He felt guilty for not once thinking about Ginny and how his supposed death might have affected her.
"Well, start talking," Hermione demanded, pushing Harry over to sit on the couch.
"Uh, I'm not sure where to start," Harry said. Nervous, he reached up to adjust his glasses, and then realized they weren't there. One of the added benefits of being immortal was perfect vision.
"Well, what happened after we left?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, mate? How did you get out of the Death Eater house?" Ron asked from the chair were he was sprawled.
Harry took a deep breath before beginning. "Do you remember that Muggle we found there?"
Hermione shuddered. "The one they had tortured to death?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Well, it turns out he's an immortal and he got us both out."
"Wait, what do you mean, an immortal?" Hermione asked as Ron sat forward in his chair. "Don't tell me there's another Sorcerer's Stone?"
"No, I mean he was born an immortal," Harry said. "No matter how many times he dies, he comes back to life."
Hermione stared at Harry, her brow furrowed. "And he was able to bring you back as well?" she asked hesitantly, as if she thought Harry may be slightly delusional.
"No, I was born an immortal, too," Harry said, then held his breath as he waited for their response.
"Blimey, is that how you managed to avoid the Killing Curse when you were a baby?" Ron asked breathlessly.
Hermione's eyes flickered to Ron then back to Harry, waiting for an answer.
"No, if Voldemort had killed me then, I'd have been a baby for the rest of my life," Harry said. "It must have been like Dumbledore said and it was something my mom did."
"So, you're saying you can't be killed now?" Hermione said dubiously. "At all, ever?"
"Pretty much, yeah." As much as Harry trusted his friends, he didn't really want to go into the whole 'taking heads' business just yet.
"Harry…" Hermione started, but then trailed off, a mixed look of confusion and disbelief on her face.
"You believe me, don't you?" Harry asked, looking from Hermione to Ron and back again.
"It's obvious something happened, Harry," Hermione said in a bewildered tone. "But I've never heard of anyone being born immortal before. Not even Voldemort knew how to do that and I'm sure he read everything he could find on the subject."
"It's not like a potion or a spell you can do, Hermione," Harry said, starting to get angry. He had not expected his friends to doubt him. "It's something you're born with or not, just like magic. And the reason no one knows about it is that the immortals keep it to themselves, just like wizards keep our existence secret from Muggles."
"Hey, mate, I'm with you," Ron said, putting his hands up as if surrendering. He turned to Hermione who still looked doubtful. "We both saw that he was dead, Hermione. How else can you explain it?"
"I don't know," Hermione said doubtfully, looking at her hands as if the answer was there. When she looked up and saw the angry look on Harry's face, she gave a small cry and threw her arms around his neck. "It doesn't matter, Harry. All that matters is that you're here and you're still alive."
"I'll second that," Ron said with a grin.
All the anger that Harry had been feeling melted away as he returned Hermione's hug and grinned back at Ron over her shoulder. He knew they would understand.
~ * ~
"The watcher following Harry and Draco lost them after they left the hotel," Joe said, slamming his phone shut in frustration.
"You really should check into the training program at the academy," Methos said, shaking his head. "This younger generation just doesn't seem as capable."
"This from the man who spent his time with the Watchers doing research on himself," Joe replied dryly.
"But I was so good at it," Methos replied with an unabashed grin.
MacLeod rolled his eyes heavenward as if silently asking for strength.
Ignoring Methos' comment, Joe said, "I can't believe those boys are traveling together after the way they acted in Scotland."
"Better the enemy you know," MacLeod replied philosophically.
"Let's just hope that we can get to them before Lucius does," Joe answered. "Whatever temporary truce they've declared may not hold when Draco meets up with daddy dearest again."