Well, that certainly explained a lot, although not everything. "You could have just come down without her," Harry pointed out.
"We tried three times," Neville exclaimed. "Hermione was sure she knew the way... I can't tell you how many different patches of wall we just stood and stared at!"
Harry remembered walking down himself; it wasn't that complicated.
"The corridors change themselves around," Draco put in. "You get a feel for them if you live down here."
"Well, that explains a great deal," Hermione murmured.
"No, it doesn't," Harry objected. "Why didn't you owl me?"
"We thought he might read your letters," Ron sneered, jerking a thumb towards Draco. "Well, anyway, McGonagall saw fit to walk us down, today, so here we are."
"What do you think her problem is?" Harry asked, but nobody had an answer.
"Oh, honestly, and I thought Granger was supposed to be so smart," Draco smirked. "Isn't it obvious? Severus told her to keep you away."
"Snape wouldn't do that," Harry objected, kind of upset at the mere suggestion. "He said I could have my friends down."
"I know," Draco agreed. "But he wants us to learn to get along, don't you think? He doesn't want them down here every day." He turned to Hermione. "I'm surprised you didn't try a simple Point me spell."
"It made her wand spin around in circles," Neville admitted.
"Ah, well it appears Severus had thought of that," Draco shrugged. "I don't have any other ideas that might help. Sorry. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some correspondence to take care of." With that, he elegantly rose to his feet and went into his room, closing the door with a slight click.
Hermione leaned forward to speak quietly to Harry. "That was even spookier than last time."
Ron guffawed. "Oh, he probably knew Point me was useless before he suggested it. No way was he really trying to help. It not like he wants us find our way down here."
"I think he really was trying to help," Harry put in. "Me, that is. He's actually been really helpful this past week."
"I knew it," Ron groaned. "Didn't I tell you this would happen? Draco's not so bad, that's what you're trying to say!"
"All I'm saying is he could have been a whole lot worse," Harry evenly returned. "Neville, you look sort of sick. What's wrong?"
"I... I think we should be going, Harry," the other boy wheezed. "S- S- Snape'll probably be coming home soon--"
"Oh, no you don't," Harry rebuked. "If my mates are going to go days and days without a visit, well then they can just stay a good long while. Past dinner this time. I mean it. You're all staying."
Hermione cleared her throat. "Ah, don't you really have to check with Professor Snape first, Harry?"
She was probably right, Harry thought, but he felt on pretty safe ground declaring, "No. I live here, and he already said I could have my friends down. I'm inviting you, not him. And you're accepting."
Neville shook a bit. "Really, Harry, you'd better ask permission. Snape's been a bit... er..."
"Bigger bastard than usual," Ron supplied. "I get detention every week now, the git."
"What are you doing to earn detentions?" Harry asked.
"Well, I like that!" Ron exclaimed. "You may be fast friends with him now, Harry, but I'm sure you remember what class with him is like! All I have to do is look at him wrong, or breathe too loudly, I swear--"
"Please do not swear in my home, Mr. Weasley," a dark sardonic voice requested as Snape came in and shut the door. His black gaze rapidly assessed the group. "Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom." Then, in even darker tones to Harry, "A pity Draco couldn't join you."
"Oh, he did for a while," Harry assured his teacher.
"Hmm."
"My friends want to stay for dinner," Harry said, not caring that he was vastly overstating the case. "But um, they said I should ask you. It's okay, isn't it?"
"I can think of nothing more delightful than having your friends for dinner," Snape drawled, his robes billowing as he stalked down the corridor toward his private domain.
"See?" Harry said, smiling.
"He means he'd like to see us served as the dinner, Harry," Hermione exclaimed.
"Oh, yeah, I know that," Harry laughed. "He can't just say yes, can he? You are Gryffindors."
"So are you," Ron put in.
"I know, Ron," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. "Look, we'll do something really fun for dinner. Did you know the house elves will whip up whatever you'd most like, without you even telling them? It's really interesting. I don't know why they don't ever let us personalize meals in the Great Hall."
Hermione was frowning, no doubt over the poor overworked house elves. Harry noticed, however, that when Draco came out later to throw in the Floo powder so they could all order, Hermione said "whatever suits" just like everybody else. She ended up with lasagna, apparently another Muggle dish Draco had never heard of before. Surprisingly, though, he didn't say anything rude about it as he ate his own way through lobster in wine sauce.
Snape was... well, Snape. He was hardly going to be happy eating dinner with five teenagers. He insisted that Neville transfigure two easy chairs into proper straight-backed wooden chairs to use at table, and sneered that the results were barely tolerable, when in fact they were quite good. He quizzed Hermione on Potions, asking her questions up through seventh year, then mockingly pointed out that she still had a great deal to learn. He told Ron that he'd keep getting detentions just as long as he believed class time was an appropriate venue for glaring, and mockingly remarked that since there was no such thing as a Gryffindor Death Glare, he might as well just give it up.
Then, just as if they didn't have guests at all, he focused his attention on Harry and Draco and went over with them in detail every lesson they'd studied that day.
When it was all over, and Harry was under the covers, about to go to sleep, he knew he had to say something. After all, Dudley was due to arrive the next day, and Harry didn't want Draco going back to his mocking, sarcastic version of manners. Dudley wouldn't know how to deal with a sneering Draco, he just wouldn't.
"Um, you were all right with my friends," he admitted as he lay on the bed, staring at the dark shadows shifting on the ceiling.
"What's that?" Draco called, emerging from the bathroom with wet hair. "I didn't hear you."
"Yes, you did."
Draco laughed, a low sound wicked with delight. "I did? Hmm, I suppose so. Well, I don't know why you're so surprised. I did tell you I had manners."
"Yeah, but you actually used them," Harry murmured. He heard Draco Finite the lights in the bathroom, and slide into his bed across the room. "You even talked Quidditch with Ron."
"Pity he suspected I only wanted an inside scoop on Gryffindor strategy," Draco drawled, adding, "You know, if he'd been less guarded, I might have learned something of use."
Harry laughed slightly. "You miss it, huh? I hadn't realized until tonight, that you were off your team just like I'm off mine."
"You'll see better than ever by the time Severus is through with you," Draco muttered, a shade of bitterness creeping into his tone. "There's no Elixir to get me back in Slytherin. So don't crow about Quidditch to me, Potter. You'll get back onto your team."