Disclaimer: There is no Harry Potter ownage here.

! This chapter was edited February 3 2009. !

A/N: This is the debut of my pride and joy, Bluntknife. I originally started it to ease my grief about the end of the HP series, or so I said to myself. I was always hoping to post it.

This is a nice, long story- the timeline is an alternate universe to DH. I'll warn you now that I like psychology... lotta dark psychological stuff in here. But! Maybe I should stop ranting and present the object of my ranting! (sound crew scutters frantically into place) (big, explosive noise suddenly erupts from the bowels of the earth)

TADAA!

Harry was feeling apprehensive. Of course it was absolutely shocking, and in all his years at Hogwarts he had never expected such a thing. But if he had handled finding out he was a wizard, he could surely handle this, right?

It had happened earlier that morning when Draco Malfoy, whom Harry had last seen running past the Hogwarts gates with Snape, did a most curious thing and sent Harry a letter.

He was sitting in the Great Hall during breakfast the day after Dumbledore's funeral, feeling pensive. He was looking forward to a last glorious day on campus, but at the same time, he couldn't quite confront the idea that his mentor was, in fact, gone, and his joy and sadness swung like vines in the wind. In fact he was so lost in thought that he yelped out loud when Neville cautiously moved his fork, which he had been staring at for the past ten minutes. With this newfound consciousness came an awareness of a beautiful eagle owl that had landed in front of him.

Hermione was sitting next to him and, determining him hopeless, had taken the parchment from the owl and unrolled it.

"Who's it from, Hermione?" he asked quickly, shaking his head slightly to wake himself.

Hermione turned the letter over, and her bemused look was quickly replaced by utter bewilderment.

"What is it, Hermione?" Ron asked, mirroring her confusion.

"...It's from Malfoy," she replied awkwardly.

A beat.

"Don't open it, Hermione!" Ron shouted once it sank in. He had obvious reasons, but Harry stopped for a moment and thought about this odd development.

"Yeah, but… would he really bother sending us a letter just to tease us with all that has to be going on with him right now?" he said. He had told them all what he had seen on the castle ramparts in the common room earlier.

"Let me open it, Hermione. It is my letter, anyway."

Hermione looked at him with a bit of concern, then said, "I suppose you're right, just know it could be something unpleasant like that pus I got one time."

"Thanks loads…The handwriting looks shaky," Harry added with surprise as he opened the letter. He began reading.

Harry

"He's obviously sucking up for something," Ron said immediately. " He never calls you 'Harry'."

"Ron, if we're going to find out what the letter actually says, you're going to have to..." Hermione made a zipping motion across her mouth. Ron turned red and nodded. Harry cleared his throat, resuming the letter.

Harry

If you have had the tolerance to open this letter, I ask that you treat the entirety of it with the same tolerance. I know that my previous behavior does not command your respect-

"You got that right," muttered Ron, but Hermione shot him a warning look.

But I have a great favor to ask of you, so great that I doubt myself as I write. Please read it with an open mind. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has drawn me into a terrible cycle, though I will not recount the exact details- Harry felt the slightest twinge of pity, knowing some of the "details" himself -but I have managed to escape for now. I am asking that I may join with you and your friends on your quest against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I know that at first this seems awkward- on both sides of this letter- but we could offer each other protection. Rest assured that I cannot betray you and join with him, as I have recently found myself incapable. I plan to use the fireplace to discuss this tonight in your common room at midnight, hoping that all the others will have cleared out by that time. If you are not there, I will take it that I am alone in this situation. Again, I plead you to consider the situation with reason.

Draco Malfoy

The three stared at the letter, then at each other, in utter disbelief.

"Malfoy… join us?" Ron said weakly. "…It's obviously a trick!"

"Ron could be right, Harry, there's no telling what he may have planned for us at midnight," Hermione said, in her signature Hermione-ish tone- though with a bit of hesitation.

"Besides, when has he ever talked to us like that? It sounds like he's simpering off to Snape or something," Ron added, rather more fiercely than called for.

Harry did not answer immediately. Somehow Ron's logic did not add up. The words of the letter had a superficial, façade-like air to them, like they barely scratched the surface of whatever was going on right now, and Harry fully believed Malfoy when he said he had found himself "incapable" of being a Death Eater. Malfoy was not able to murder, and Harry knew it from every moment of the oddly distant-seeming night on the castle ramparts. He had not told Hermione and Ron, but Malfoy was taking up a significant portion of his mind alongside Dumbledore's death, and his newfound goal of finding Horcruxes. What could have been going through the boy's mind as he shook uncontrollably at Dumbledore's offer of protection, as he lowered his wand just a little, before being thrown aside by the other Death Eaters? Malfoy had not had time to chat much about his inner thoughts before Snape dragged him beyond the gates… but his family was in grave danger, and would continue to be if he continued his service to Voldemort. Harry knew that, deep down, and slowly it dawned on Harry why Malfoy might be using the tone that he was…

"Well, maybe he can't think of any other way to get his message across," Hermione said softly, and both Ron and Harry looked up. "Think about it. He's so terrified of what will happen if we don't take him in that he doesn't dare address us as usual. But he's not used to being respectful to us at all, so he doesn't know how to write to us respectfully now. The closest thing he can think of is, like you said, Ron, the tone he sweet-talks Snape with." She had voiced the unorganized thoughts of Harry.

Ron gave her a hard look. "Still sounds to me like he's going to have someone turn the common room into a swamp or something the minute we turn up."

But Harry was a little more thoughtful. "She's got a point, Ron."

"I'm not saying he's not the same little git that he used to be, I don't really care to have his company either," continued Hermione with a bit af a grimace, "but it seems like Dumbledore got him really thinking... Maybe he does need protection. I can't imagine his fate if no one helps him, he's certainly no real Death Eater from what Harry saw that night."

"He's still a git."

"Yes, I said that, but think, Ron!" Frustration grew in her voice.

"I am thinking! Thinking of how he almost got Hagrid fired, thinking of how he stomped Harry's nose on the train, thinking of how-"

"Ron, that's enough!" Hermione had a look both fierce and desperate. It seemed she was as angry at Ron's stubborness as she was in favor of the letter. Or perhaps she simply wanted to drop the subject before she changed her mind. "Alright, that's it. Harry, I'll be in the common room if you will, so long as I've got my wand with me."

For just a moment, Harry hesitated, thoughts racing, but said, "I'll be there." Both looked at Ron inquiringly, who just stared back in horror for a few moments.

"You two are crazy," he said finally. "But I guess I've got no choice."

Besides Hermione and Ron arguing on and off about the letter, the rest of the day passed in quiet comfort. There were no classes, so most of Harry's time was spent with his friends by the lake. Even Luna Lovegood came up to join in the conversation, sifting through the silt at the lake's shore. Eventually Ron and Harry retired to the Quidditch field, which Madam Hooch had deemed open for flying. Harry and Ron tossed a pinecone back and forth nonchalantly in midair, discussing the morning's events.

"So he's supposedly joining us… what's that mean?" Ron wondered aloud for the sixteenth time. "Well, we had decided to go to the Burrow- wait a minute!" Harry dove after the pinecone Ron had just dropped in shock. When he came back, Ron had a look of pure terror on his previously thoughtful face.

"What?"

"You realize what this means, don't you?" Ron said. "Malfoy will be at the Burrow!"

"We'll be careful. If you're really worried, I'm sure your dad can see if he's being sneaky-"

"No- I mean- Fred and George- he got them banned last year- they can't- th-they won't-" Ron gave up articulation entirely and stared at the ground fifty feet below. Harry understood, though. Malfoy had insulted the Weasley family in fifth year and the Weasley twins, along with Harry, had gone at him so hard it had almost gotten them a permanent ban from Quidditch. He, too, was now staring at the ground, and shuddered at the thought of what Fred and George would do if they saw Draco Malfoy walking up to them along with Harry and Ron at the train platform.

"We'll have to make sure they don't go anywhere alone… Maybe he should get a flask like Moody," Ron was saying with a blank face. "You know Fred and George have something to put in his glass already hidden in the cupboards, just in case they ever saw him again." Harry knew that nothing good could come of it if the twins got involved in a fight, especially days before the wedding of Ron's brother, Bill.

Just then, a light, female figure came whirling up behind him.

"Hi, Harry," said a misty voice.

"Luna!!" Ron spluttered at her as Harry turned. "I didn't know you could fly!"

"Oh, I've had a bit of practice," Luna said vaguely. "Borrowed a school broom. But Harry- you said you're headed for Godric's Hollow, right?"

"Yeah," Harry said quickly. Luna and Ginny had sat with Ron, Hermione and Harry by the lake as they had recounted the morning's events an hour before.

"Good. I just wanted to tell you that Ginny and I are following you. We can stay in a nearby house, if you like." Harry stared in shock. Luna smiled brightly and made to fly off, but Harry flew up to her and spun her around by the elbow.

"You can't do that, Luna! You know how dangerous it is-" he started to tell her, but Luna cut him off. Floating towards him so that Ron couldn't hear, her misty voice suddenly held a determination that Harry had never heard from her before.

"I knew you'd do that, Harry. But that's exactly why we're coming. Harry- you can't do such a dangerous job alone. You're closing your mind to what you truly need." She was very close to him. "As soon as we heard your story, Ginny and I had a chat and we decided you need an army, not a soldier."

Harry couldn't seem to speak.

"I've talked to Ron. I've talked to Hermione. They decided the same thing a long time ago." She turned her head to look at the castle. "We still need someone here, you know, to keep Dumbledore's Army alive in the place it's needed most. That's why I couldn't tell Neville or the others." Luna looked at him and her voice sounded less misty than ever. "Please don't go back on your promises. We're all in this together."After a moment, she backed off and smiled brightly again. "I'm headed off to try laps. See you, Harry, Bye, Ron."

Harry stared in disbelief for the second time that day. He had never heard Luna so... determined. Harry felt extremely irritated that no one would just let him do what he had to- but that's what she's saying, said a nasty voice in his head. That's what everyone's saying. You're so angry and won't let people help you, not even if you're fighting the greatest Dark wizard in the world. This disturbed Harry slightly, and he went back to playing catch with the pinecone with so little concentration that he was diving down after it nearly every time Ron threw.

Draco Malfoy was scared. He did not like to admit it, but it was true and he knew it in the very back of his mind, in a nasty little place where he knew a lot of things that were true. What a crude escape he had made… From the minute Dumbledore died, he had been feeling somewhat… un-Malfoyish… in that he was often rather doubtful of himself. The inability to kill shook him to the foundation in the first place, and as soon as he had been able to think again, his mind flooded with questions and revelations. Why couldn't he kill? Hadn't his father been entirely able… or had he? What kind of a person was Lucius Malfoy, now that he thought of it, and what kind of falsehoods had his son absorbed from him for nearly seventeen years? What did it mean to kill?

These thoughts tortured Malfoy ever since he'd gone past the Hogwarts gates, but he never had any answers. And now, here he was, barely half a week later, and he was sitting in some vacationing Muggle's house, with the thin protection of fairly new (and imperfect, and weak) charm that protected him from Legilimency and most sorts of magical tracking, and also caused him to retch every time he saw something colored bright purple as a side effect. He had got the charm from attempting to contact the Order of the Phoenix, as they might offer him protection from an angry Voldemort that he realized he could not possibly follow without his family being killed- he could not carry out any of Voldemort's missions, and the price would be the lives of him and his parents. However, the Order was in a state of total disarray, and was distant towards him- the son of Lucius Malfoy, the infamous Death Eater- to boot. They were scattered, unorganized, and had much too much to deal with. They tried somewhat to help, but the best they could do that Draco trusted in the slightest was to cast that charm on a necklace and give it to him to wear for protection. Malfoy didn't mind it, a fine silver chain with a tiny, pearly gray brooch on the end. But he could not entirely trust something that forced him to hide the bright purple stuffed bear one of the Muggle children had left in the living room.

Fortunately, though, that living room also bore a fireplace.

He had thought and thought, and finally, with a great deal of lingering reluctance, decided that his only option was to join someone who was already against Voldemort. Someone who had a chance. Someone like (dare he think it?) Harry Potter.

He had, in fact, put an Amicability Charm on the letter, making it a little more likely for the one who touched it first to agree with it. But for all the help it did him, he might as well have made it a Howler. Draco Malfoy was scared.

Thankfully, by the time the large clock in the Gryffindor common room showed 12 o' clock, the room was deserted. Except, of course, for the wary faces of Hermione, Harry and Ron, peering from near the dormitory staircases. All three stared at the fire waiting, until- fwoosh- the pointed, blond-haired face they all knew so terribly well emerged from the shapes in the flames, as Harry had seen Sirius do before. Malfoy looked haughty as usual, but there was something else there, as if he was having to work a little to keep the look on. A frown creased his forehead as he scanned the room, looking for anyone until, finally, Harry took a deep breath and stepped out. Malfoy looked deeply relieved. He quickly pulled his face back, though, as Hermione strode into the room and sank into an armchair. Ron came in a moment later, though he walked stiffly and remained standing behind Hermione's chair. Malfoy exhaled slowly and looked at Harry.

"So," Harry said with the same exhalation, "what exactly are we discussing?"

It was clear to the three in the common room that Malfoy was being as true as Malfoys got. And though they could practically smell his reluctance, he accepted some of their plans and submitted to measures that made sure he wouldn't try anything stupid. It was settled that he and Luna would meet up (at this he looked slightly irritated) off of the Hogwarts train, at Platform 9 ¾, then join up with the rest of the Weasleys… Luna was to walk ahead of Malfoy to ease the tension, he wouldn't be barging in… Every tiny detail was worked out and Hermione, always organized, wrote it all down for Luna. Malfoy tried unsuccessfully to hide his habitual sneer at this trademark of Hermione's, but luckily their discussion had all but ended at that point, and he slipped away unceremoniously before Ron and Harry could get on him for it.

"That was oddly quiet," Ron remarked after a moment. Harry looked at him inquiringly, and he continued. "When have we ever had an hour "-he glanced at the clock, which now read 1:03- "talking to Draco Malfoy, where we haven't yelled at each other- and didn't look like Crabbe or Goyle?"

"Well, when have we talked to him for an hour, period?" Hermione reminded them from the table. "These are some odd circumstances, Ron, and I imagine there will be weirder things to come." Her quill continued scratching on the paper. Ron acknowledged defeat by yawning and headed up to bed , waving good night. Harry decided he'd better follow if he wanted to be able to walk onto the Hogwarts Express tomorrow- and sure enough, Harry heard just a few more frantic scratches before Hermione's footsteps echoed up to the girl's dormitory. A full night's sleep was now in order.

He dozed off quickly, and had an odd dream. Fred and George were chasing a ferret until it crashed headlong into a rickety statue of white bricks.

A/N Do you like it? Prithee review! Hey, and pitfit (praise in truth, flame in truth: means I want TOTAL HONESTY puh-leaze!)

I originally had this in a Microsoft Works document and had a lot of fun finding a good font to put Malfoy's letter in. I think the body was Viner Hand ITC and the signature was Blackadder ITC. Then, of course, I post it here and I'm forced to use italics and boldface. Boring!
Adios, readers!

tiger-SAMBA signing off