Disclaimer: Not my characters.

NB: Slash.

R: For fighting and swearing and for the sex in Chapter 4.

Draco's Letter

H. This is for you, when it comes to that. D.

I fell for you long before I started providing the good guys with information. The two things had nothing to do with one another, although I'm sure no one believes that now. I can see how it would appear from the outside: Remus Lupin needed what I knew; you were the only person who could reach Lupin without being traced. What luck for someone who wanted to get into your pants.

It would have been easier if that were the whole story. But the fact is, I did believe in what I was doing. Maybe not my sanest hour, but after forfeiting the belief system I'd been force-fed since birth, I had to make my own faith. The fact that you happen to be kind of like a religion all by yourself was just a sublime coincidence.

In any case, if this self-indulgent exercise provokes your usual lash-out-first-interpret-later reaction, I would like to say in my defense, Harry, that as far as you were concerned, everything was real.

::

The day I outed myself as a spy to Harry Potter by asking him to help me reach Remus Lupin, he was alone on the Quidditch pitch, fussing with his broom. I walked up behind him, not too close, and cleared my throat.

He spun around, alert and hostile, and said, "What the fuck do you want, Malfoy?"

Usually, angry people bored me, but Harry's anger was very sexy. It was like all that furious energy might as easily be horniness as violence, and if the dice fell right our next fight might be a hell of a shag. I must have grinned a little suggestively because he suddenly looked very confused.

"Hello, Potter. I need to get a message to Remus Lupin. Dumbledore said I should ask you."

"What? Why?"

"I have some information."

"What the hell does that mean? Information. You're selling out?"

I just shrugged.

"I don't believe you. This is one of your tricks. Dumbledore can get in touch with Remus whenever he wants."

"He said you had a special way."

Harry glared at me in disbelief. He said, "Why would you do this?"

"Extreme positions are stupid. I want to find some middle ground." I meant it. It was crazy the way wizards tiptoed around Muggles. We were more powerful than they were, for god's sake, we shouldn't have had to hide that. On the other hand, I agreed that murdering them was unreasonable. In fact, I had a squeamishness about murder that unsuited me for either villainy or heroism. Much later, when Harry confided in me his fear that he might be able to kill without remorse, I realized that, ironically, golden Harry Potter was infinitely darker than I could ever be. On the flip side, I never had any fear of death.

Harry was outraged at my explanation. He shouted, "There is no middle ground! The Death Eaters are wrong! Killing Muggles is wrong! Sending innocent people to Azkaban is wrong!"

"Harry," I said, suddenly close enough to touch him. I had never called him Harry before. We both stared down at my hand where it wrapped around his arm. I remember thinking how toned he was from Quidditch. He shook me off angrily. I said, "Calm down."

"Fine. All right. What's the information?"

"Directions and a password for infiltrating a meeting."

"Give it to me."

"I can't commit it to parchment. Dumbledore said I should talk to Lupin myself."

"Yeah. All right. There is one way. I don't use it much. Here." Harry looked around to make sure we were alone and pulled a rectangular mirror out of his pocket.

Lupin had the other mirror. Harry managed to rouse him and handed it to me. Lupin looked pale, but he had a nice smile, warm. He said, "Hello, Draco."

I told him what I knew and he thanked me and I handed the mirror back to Harry. He looked at me, still suspicious, and walked away to speak with Lupin privately. When he was done, he walked back, pushing the mirror into his pocket. I remember thinking how much he didn't trust me. He said, "Is that it?"

I nodded and said, "Thanks," and left.

::

Harry started our second quasi-civil conversation. He found me in the library. I looked up to see him watching me. He was nervous. I said, "You look a little nervous, Potter. Come to ask me to the Yule Ball?" The people around me tittered sycophantically.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Malfoy. I know you've been wrecking your bed sheets with that dream for weeks."

"Potter!" I said, delighted. "That's hilarious. There may be hope for you yet."

He looked at me warily, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Our audience also waited, confused. I just smiled at him expectantly. Finally, I said, "You wanted something?"

"I, uh…" Harry looked at the people around us. They were pretty much salivating to see me humiliate him, but the idea of pretending to hate him seemed very boring and stupid. I stood up and nodded toward the door.

Out in the corridor he said, "I heard from Lupin. He wanted to say thanks."

"So it worked out then."

"Yeah. Uh, Malfoy? Isn't this a little weird for you?"

"I'd think you of all people would respect the sacrifices one makes to do the right thing."

"I don't understand why. I mean, what changed? When did it change?"

"Much as I appreciate your rather affecting desire for a heart to heart, I'm afraid I'm not ready to confide my deepest feelings in you, Potter."

"Yeah, okay. It's just---" He was looking at me with a strange expression of concentration and I thought, Oh holy hell, I do kind of want to confide my deepest feelings in Harry Potter. I waited a beat too long and the opening passed.

"Harry!" yelled a shrill female voice. Great. Granger. She hurried up to us and looked back and forth between us suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he said, and then, without even glancing at me, he left with her. She looked back once. I winked at her, grinned when she sniffed, and walked back into the library.

::

It was more than two months before I had another reason to talk to Harry. Late January, snowing like the devil. I walked over to his table at breakfast and said, "I need to talk to you."

Harry turned bright red. Weasley and Granger glared at me from either side of him. Harry said, "What the fuck for?"

I shrugged. "Usual reason."

He just stared at me, all rumpled and hostile. Yeah, he was pretty cute.

"I take it you've neglected to share the details of our torrid affair with Weasel and the Mudblood?" I managed to deliver this sardonically, although it wasn't really in my usual line, humor-wise, and then I ruined it by cracking up at the expressions on their faces. I had never seen three people look so horrified. The entire Great Hall was staring at me. I could feel tears at the corners of my eyes. "Come on, Potter. Humor me before I laugh myself into a coma."

"Fine," he said, getting up.

"Harry," said Weasley, alarmed. "What the hell are you doing?"

Granger looked furious. "I don't know what you're up to, Malfoy---"

"But you'd love an excuse to hex me into oblivion. Yes, Granger, I know. Thanks for remaining so obsessed despite my probably very distressing lack of interest. Coming, Potter?"

We walked out into the hallway and found an empty classroom. Harry handed me the mirror without speaking. When I was done, I returned it and he spoke to Lupin for a few minutes before turning back to me. He said, "Why are you still here?"

I shrugged and said, "Waiting to thank you, I guess. Hard to override years of lovely manners."

"Just stop for a second. Okay? I want to ask you something." He gathered himself. "I know you aren't going to tell me why you're doing this, so, fine, but you need to tell me who knows. I mean, it's pretty weird that I'm keeping your deepest secret right now."

"I don't know that it's my very deepest secret---"

"I said stop doing that!"

"Temper, Potter. All right. Dumbledore, Lupin, Snape, possibly McGonagall. Apart from that, only you."

"So all of Slytherin---"

"Obviously. Haven't you noticed that they still follow me around like lemmings?"

"I guess. That must be sort of…lonely."

God, it was lonely. Lonely enough to make me want to throw myself off of the North Tower. Or on top of Harry Potter. I said, "I'm touched by your concern, Potter."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Your rather limited concern."

"Whatever. Now we're done?"

"We are. I'll let you know when I need to impose on you again." I turned to go.

Harry said, "Yeah, fine," behind me, but his voice was devoid of hostility and strangely leading. I turned back. "Look. It's just… If you ever want to tell me why… You can."

I met his eyes then and felt my own totally give me away. I was able to keep them pretty blank and cold most of the time, but once in a while they failed me and I knew that for Harry, just then, it was like seeing a shade snap up. Great. My inner self, all naked in front of Harry Potter. I could see him reading me and said, genuinely, "Thanks, Potter. I'm all right. But I appreciate it." And then I left.

::

A/N: Thanks for reading. Reviews are very welcome.