Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Not making any money, just having fun.

Note: My beta rocks! Thanks to Eilonwy! You're incredible!

General Reminder: These are deleted scenes from the story "We Learned the Sea." If you haven't read it, these won't make any sense. You can find that story under my profile page. Also, these scenes weren't actually deleted from the story; they're more like extra scenes. Enjoy!

Requested by: A whole lot of people! Dedicated to two awesome people: Eilonwy – my wonderful beta, who basically FORCED me to write this scene! And waffenmac, for being an awesome reviewer.

ooo

Island of the Lost Soul

"Start talking, Malfoy," said Harry roughly. He sat down at his desk and crossed his arms.

Draco felt almost sick. This was it—eighteen months of preparation had led to this moment. If Harry didn't believe him, didn't accept his offer, then not only were all his plans wasted, but Draco had no doubt he'd be thrown in Azkaban. Potter would probably even get a medal for it.

"Let's hear it," said Harry, tapping a clear, thin piece of glass. The number sixty stood out in bright red. Harry tapped it again, and the number started counting down. "Sixty minutes will pass before you know it."

"What do you want to know?" Draco asked, feeling as though as any moment he would be sick on Harry's desk.

Harry chuckled. "How about you start with why you're so scared—and white as a ghost."

Draco nodded slowly. "Because if you don't believe me, then everything will fall apart."

"What's everything? Details, Malfoy. You have to give me more than glib answers. You're trying to convince me not to chuck you in prison, and you're starting with a snowflake's chance in hell."

Draco glared at him. "I want out, Potter. I was never meant for this, not really. Bullying and harmless hexes were one thing, but this…" He shook his head. "I can't pretend anymore. And I'm offering you a chance to end the war, to end him. In return… I want to be allowed to leave England forever."

"You've essentially said as much already." Harry tapped his wand on the desk. "Why should I believe that's all you want, to leave England? For all I know, you're just going to use me to get rid of Voldemort, making way for you to take his place."

The look on Draco's face was enough to convince Harry that such a thought had never entered the other man's wildest thoughts.

"I…" Draco started. "I could never. I told you, I'm not made for this. For—for torture, and killing."

Harry narrowed his eyes and reached into his desk, pulling out a thick folder. He flipped it open. "Your rap sheet would indicate otherwise, Malfoy. Merlin, your use of Unforgiveable Curses alone would indicate that you have no problem whatsoever causing pain and torment. You tortured four hundred and fifty-eight people!"

Draco sat up a little straighter in his chair. "Actually, most of those were against fellow Death Eaters."

Harry frowned. "And… you think that's a good thing?"

"At least it wasn't against Muggles."

Slowly Harry nodded. "I… reckon that's true… The Imperius though. Did you use it to make people kill?"

"No."

"Not once?"

"There were enough people who wanted to kill that we didn't need to force anyone."

"Still… Merlin, this doesn't even take into account all of the technically legal things you did for your master, nor all the illegal things for which we don't have methods of tracking."

"How many people did I kill?" Draco asked, his voice shaking only very slightly at the end. He didn't think Potter noticed; Snape was right after all. Potter wasn't very good at subtleties.

Harry ran his finger down the parchment. "Forty-seven."

"That number doesn't seem… low to you?"

"Why should it? It's far more people than I've killed."

"When was the last one?"

Harry clenched his jaw and looked deeper into the stack of parchments detailing Malfoy's crimes. Then frowned even deeper and looked up. "What are you—"

"When, Potter?" he asked firmly.

"You know when. February of last year."

"Right. Eighteen months." He waited for Harry to come to some sort of conclusion. Harry merely stared at him. "And who were the last people I… killed?"

"Malfoy," said Harry angrily. "This isn't amusing at all. You know very well—"

"What if I told you I didn't really kill them?"

Harry stopped mid-sentence, his mouth open. Then he shook his head. "You're sick."

"I mean it."

"I… You… I mean, I saw them, I was there, with Hermione, when she found them…" Harry trailed off when he saw a wave of intense emotion pass over Draco's eyes and he frowned. "Malfoy, I don't know what you're on about, but you'd better start talking."

"I didn't kill them. I was supposed to, and I went there to, but… something happened."

"What?" Harry asked, trying to sound disinterested.

Draco hesitated. Telling Potter all that had happened would mean showing more of himself than he was comfortable showing. He'd come a long way, thanks to Steve and Jane, but Potter was essentially a stranger, someone who happened to despise everything about him. But one thing he'd learned and become intimately familiar with over the last year and a half: most good things required sacrifice.

"I… couldn't do it. I couldn't go through with it."

Harry shrugged in differently. "Why? You'd done it before—what was the big deal?"

Draco had prepared an answer to this question. "Picture a bowl. Or your coffee mug that you spilled earlier. Now imagine that every horrible thing I've done is a drop of water. Eventually, it gets full, and the water spills. That's what happened that night."

"You got… full?"

"According to that analogy, yes. But really, it was more like the opposite. I was utterly empty."

Harry shook his head. "You're trying to make me feel sorry for you. It's not going to work."

Anger flared inside Draco and he narrowed his eyes. "I'm trying to tell you what happened. I don't really care what you think about me."

"You're trying to convince me that you didn't kill Hermione's parents. When I was there, saw their bodies, held Hermione's hand through the funeral. I saw their caskets lowered into the ground, and dirt piled on top."

Draco sighed. "Ever heard of the Draught of the Living Dead, Potter? The potion needs only a few modifications to truly mimic death, even convincing Muggle doctors."

Harry looked horrified. "That—that's horrible!"

"Dark magic, Potter."

"So… you're saying you faked their deaths?" Harry asked incredulously. "Why?"

"It's a long story."

"Well, we've got forty-three minutes left. Give me the short version."

Draco took a deep breath. "I… entered the house and found them at the dinner table. I hesitated—I told you—and then, they just… started talking. To me. And… by the end of the hour, I'd decided not to kill them, to turn against the Dark Lord, and to work to bring an end to him and his reign of fear."

Harry's eyes shot up. "Well, that must have been some conversation. But what does this have to do with anything?"

"You wanted proof that I'm not here to double-cross you, or take over when the Dark Lord dies. I'm trying to give you that proof, that I'm not… this… Mark on my arm. That I want him dead."

Harry shook his head. "I… this is just too fantastic, Malfoy. It's too hard to believe—why would they go along with it?"

Draco pulled a small, grey bag out of his robes. From it, he withdrew a piece of parchment and handed it to Harry. "Read this."

Harry took the parchment and carefully, skeptically, opened it.

ooo

Dear Harry,

If you're reading this, then you're at least listening to what Draco has to say. And you also don't believe him. We understand! Please accept this as proof that he is telling you the truth.

I remember when you and Hermione came to visit us a few summers ago. She wore that yellow dress, you remember? You told her she looked like a daisy, and she said she hoped Ron—they were dating at the time—would finally open his eyes and really see her, and not the girl he'd known since you were eleven.

That never happened, but that's not what this letter is about. Harry, I know this is hard and impossible of us to ask, but please, trust Draco. He's telling the truth.

Jane Granger

ooo

Harry carefully folded the parchment and returned it to Draco. "You could have forced her to write that before you killed her."

Draco clenched his jaw. "Right, well." He handed Harry something else.

It was a picture of him with Steve and Jane, Steve's arm around his shoulder, all of them smiling. Harry frowned. "Where is this?"

"My island."

"You—really have an island?"

"YES, Potter."

Harry flipped the picture over and then back. "It's not moving."

"Muggle camera. Steve's."

Harry shook his head and returned the picture. "Okay, say that I believe you. I'm not saying I do, but what happens next? So you didn't kill them—so what?"

"As I've said, I'm offering you the chance to bring down the Dark Lord."

"How? What would that involve?"

Draco nodded. "I've been developing a plan for the last year and a half. I have a house in Wales that is Unplottable, has all the standard security enchantments and quite a few more, plus it's concealed by the Fidelius Charm. If you agree, you would go there with me and I would train you, give you everything you need to defeat him."

"Why me?" Harry asked. "Why not just do it yourself?"

"I know about the Prophecy," Draco said simply. "I know that it has to be you."

Harry's eyes widened. "How did you—"

"Snape," Draco quipped. "In addition… Granger would accompany you."

"You cannot be serious! She'd never—after what you—" Harry shook his head. "No, I think you should leave Hermione out of this."

"I—I can't," Draco started. "I promised her parents I would keep her safe."

Harry laughed. "You—you really are something, Malfoy. This story gets more and more ludicrous the more you talk. Her parents asked you to keep her safe?"

"Yes. Again, it's a long story, one I don't need to go into right now."

"And you want her to come stay at your house. With you."

"Us. Yes. Once I have openly left the Dark Lord, I will be hunted and it will be a much more difficult task to watch over her."

Harry crossed his arms and looked at Draco skeptically. "You've been watching over Hermione. To keep her safe. Why?"

"I told you. Her parents asked me to."

"From your kind?" Harry asked.

"From anything, really."

"And did you ever have to… you know, fulfill this request? To come to her rescue, so to speak?"

Draco shifted in his chair. "Not in the way you're thinking—that I'd swoop in and save the day. Fortunately, she was never in that much danger. I worked to protect her more from the inside. You see, I… I was supposed to kill her too," he said quietly.

Anger blazed in Harry's eyes and he set his jaw, scowling intensely at Draco.

"Because I did not kill her, I had to convince the Dark Lord that she was more important, more valuable, to him alive. Otherwise, he would have killed me and sent someone else for her. Beyond that, I had to continue convincing him, reminding him of what she was doing."

"And what was she doing?"

"Nothing. But I told the Dark Lord she was involved in a very secret, highly important research project at the Department of Mysteries. He put me in charge of tailing her, which made it much easier to keep my promise to Steve and Jane."

"How did you watch over her? How could you have done without us knowing?"

"I did a couple of things. First, I cast a spell that would, to a limited extent, Bind me to her. I am able to sense her fear, even the slightest inkling of it, and to quickly ascertain its cause. If she were under serious threat, I would then be able to Apparate directly to her and offer my assistance, so to speak."

"She'd probably hex you before you got the chance."

"True, and so I would cast a temporary shield charm before Apparating. I've thought of all the angles, Potter. The other measure I took was to create a kind of window, as I called it, that would allow me to see her whenever I wished."

Harry's anger flared again. "Her parents wanted this, you say? For you to constantly spy on her?"

Draco did his best to remain calm. "I didn't constantly spy. And yes, they wanted me to keep a close eye on her. I kept them apprised of what was going on at all times. In the beginning, I mostly kept tabs on her myself, as it was the most critical period. The Dark Lord wavered greatly in his thoughts on her, and Weasley too. I did everything I could to direct his focus elsewhere."

"You could see her, anytime you wanted. That's sick, Malfoy."

"I would never—I never betrayed the trust her parents put in me. They essentially gave me a second chance at life, and I would do anything for them."

Harry shook his head. "It's just… I don't believe you. I can't! What you're suggesting…"

"What do I have to do to convince you?" Draco asked, glancing at the clock; it now read twenty-three minutes.

"Let me see if I understand this so far. You want me to work with you in order to bring down Voldemort. You want Hermione—whose parents you may or may not have killed—to come too. Why her? What about Ron? Or anyone else?"

"No. No one else. She's only to be involved because of her parents."

"And what is she supposed to do? I assure you, she will not take kindly to the suggestion that she sit around this… house of yours."

"I will train you to kill the Dark Lord. She gets that list of Death Eaters."

Harry nodded slowly. "Fine. Fine. So we go to this house. You train me. What then?"

"We go after him," Draco said simply. "I've worked out the plan as far as I can. I know about the Horcruxes he'd made, the ones you destroyed. He created new ones, and you destroyed those as well. I also know he's going to create another one, and that he believes it will be beyond your skill to destroy. We will determine what that Horcrux is, and destroy it. By any means necessary. Then we go for him."

"We?" Harry repeated.

"Unless you would prefer to go alone," said Draco.

"I… it's just too incredible a story. You come here and offer to show me how to defeat Voldemort. You say you've changed, that you want him dead. The proof you offer is the fact that you didn't kill Hermione's parents, but you've given no real evidence. That letter, while I admit it was Jane's handwriting, could have been something you forced her to write before killing her. And photos can be fixed." Harry ran a hand through his messy black hair. "I—I would have to see them."

He expected Malfoy to finally fold, to show some sign of recognition that his attempt had failed. Instead, Draco merely nodded. "If you must, you must," he said, standing.

Harry's jaw dropped. "You—you're serious?"

"Of course. But we must hurry, there's not a lot of time. You're familiar, I'm sure, with the business of Side-Along Apparation. As unpleasant as it sounds, you must therefore take my arm."

Harry slowly came out from behind his desk, still staring in disbelief at Draco. What on earth was he thinking? Ever so hesitantly, he extended his arm to link with Draco's. In an instant, he felt the familiar tug at his naval and then it stopped. He kept his eyes shut tight, only at that moment realizing how stupid he'd been to simply allow the Death Eater to Apparate him anywhere—he could have taken him straight to Voldemort!

But soon the sound of rolling waves and the smell of sea air filled Harry's senses and he slowly opened his eyes. Draco pulled his arm away as though he might become contaminated with some horrendous disease if he touched Harry any longer. Harry barely noticed as he stared around him.

"You… we… where are we?"

Draco sighed. "The island. And oh yes. The Grangers live here. I've named it Isle de âme en peine. Come on." Draco turned and started walking toward a house Harry hadn't noticed before. No, that wasn't quite right—the house hadn't been there a moment earlier.

"Malfoy—"

"Fidelius."

Harry scolded himself and trudged after Draco.

When they arrived at the front door, Draco knocked. It puzzled Harry, but before he could ask, the door was flung wide, revealing a very concerned Jane Granger. Unmistakably, very much alive.

"Draco!" she said. "What are you going here?" Then she seemed to notice that Draco wasn't alone. "Harry?!" Jane looked at Draco, somewhat relieved. "So the letter and photo didn't work?"

"Nope," he replied.

"Well, come in then," she said.

As they entered, Draco said, "We don't have a lot of time, Jane," and disappeared further into the house. Harry was still staring at Jane.

"Hello, Harry. I imagine this is quite a shock.. How are you doing? How is Hermione?" Then her eyes filled with tears. "Please, just trust Draco"

"I…I thought…" Harry started, looking in the direction Malfoy had gone.

Jane said, "Oh, well, yes, he tells us what's going on, but you actually get to talk to her."

Harry mentally shook away the cobwebs that had quickly sprung up in his brain. There was simply no denying what he was seeing: Hermione's mother, living, breathing, worrying for her daughter. Malfoy could have used Polyjuice, but… somehow, Harry didn't think he had.

"She's… good, Mrs. Granger."

"How many times must I tell you to call me Jane?"

Harry nodded, still dazed. "Really good… Jane. You know how strong she is."

Jane nodded, her eyes still full. Harry heard voices in the hall and looked up to see Draco and Steve enter the room, talking quietly. Steve brightened when he saw Harry and extended his hand.

"Harry! Good to see you! How are things?"

"Fine," said Harry listlessly. "And with you?"

Steve looked at Draco and then back at Harry. "As well as they can be, considering."

"Considering you're supposed to be dead."

"Yes. Draco will explain everything, Harry. Don't be upset or angry with him. Trust him."

Harry forced a laugh. "Trust him? You cannot be serious! That's like asking me to start taking tea with Voldemort!"

Jane put her hand on Harry's arm and gave him a gently squeeze. Harry flinched. "I know this is hard for you, that this seems impossible right now, but you have the chance to do something truly wonderful."

Draco looked at a pocket watch he'd produced from somewhere on his person. "Time, Potter. Let's go."

Jane hugged him tight. "Oh, Harry! It was so good to see you! Do take care, and… and give Hermione a hug from us."

"Only not from us," said Steve, shaking Harry's hand once more. "Best of luck, Harry."

Harry nodded dully and went out the door. He started walking back to the spot on the beach where they'd arrived, but turned around just in time to see Draco embrace Jane and then Steve before leaving the house himself.

He walked swiftly toward Harry and extended his arm. "Your turn to get us back."

A few seconds later they were back safely inside the office, and Harry fell heavily into his chair, his mind spinning.

Draco glanced at the clock and saw that it read only eight minutes. "Potter. What is your decision?"

"I…well, I reckon I can't deny they're alive… which means you didn't kill them… which means…" He let out a frustrated sigh. "You must be telling the truth. Say… say I go along with this. What happens now? Right now?"

"That is up to you. Though I must advise you to take some time to prepare for what's to come."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll have to leave the visible world and disappear. We'll be working non-stop, every moment we can. You can't keep your job, and… you'll have to tell your other half that you won't be able to see her for awhile."

"How do you—"

"Another time," Draco said firmly.

"You're going to Azkaban," Harry said quickly, now trying to process what would be the best course of action.

Draco's heart jumped. "Why?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"I want you where I can get to you easily, where I know you can't get away."

"For how long?"

"Until you've given me everything you have. How does this affect your plan?"

"Very little, really. Delays it somewhat, but I'd anticipated that to some degree."

"Okay, you're going to Azkaban. What next?"

Draco thought quickly. "You'll have to send someone to retrieve the information I have about the Death Eaters. I gave you only a list of names, which disappeared, but I have much, much more. It's all in my head."

"How?"

"Memory charm. I will communicate to you through code in the information I provide."

"Communicate? About what?"

"Since I'm going to be locked up, there are things that need doing. You will do them," Draco said simply.

The clocked beeped, indicating only three minutes remained.

"Do we have a deal?" Draco asked.

Harry stared at the picture of him, Ron and Hermione, taken at the small, makeshift, leaving celebration they'd held after completing their courses. Then he thought of the picture of Ginny he kept in his desk drawer. He looked at Draco.

"Yes."

ooo

A/N: Thanks for reading! I am going to post all the remaining scenes today. They were fun to write, and I really enjoyed hearing from all of you what you wanted to see. I'm sorry to those of you whose requests I didn't specifically address. I tried to include as many smaller scenes in these chapters as possible.

Hope you liked this one!