Title: The Secret's In The Telling

Authoress: Sakuri

Rating: T

Summary: Draco Malfoy, pureblood and Slytherin prince, suffers the unthinkable when he is attacked and bitten by Remus Lupin. How is he supposed to live any kind of life afterwards, especially when Potter continues to stick his unwanted nose into things? DMHP, SSRL

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one

Chapter 11: Settling The Score

xxx

"He WHAT?"

"Sshh!"

Ron stared at his friend, bug-eyed, and tried desperately to come up with something else to say. No words were forthcoming, however. Thunderstruck, he could only shake his head in disbelief.

The three were sat in their customary place by the fire, gathered close as Harry tried to keep the discussion quiet. So far, he wasn't having much luck. Ron's astonished outburst had attracted the attention of half the room.

"Look," Harry whispered, "I'm telling you guys first so you'll know why he's there. I don't want Gryffindor common room up in arms about it! So shut up, alright?"

The redhead blinked, then shook his head again. "But Harry! You're not gonna actually let him join, are you? I mean… it's Malfoy!" Thankfully, he'd successfully lowered his voice this time.

Harry shrugged. "There's not much I can do. Dumbledore's orders, isn't it." He shrugged, staring at the flames for a long moment as his friends absorbed what he was telling them.

"There's got to be something you can –" Ron tried to protest again.

"There's not."

Hermione, who had been silent in shock up until now, suddenly perked up. "But Harry, it's not as if Malfoy will want to join. Maybe he won't even show up."

He sighed and looked at her, realising he'd neglected to tell them the second half of the story.

The long explanation took him some time, with Ron's continuous interruptions and indignant outbursts, as well as Hermione's calmly posed questions he did his best to answer. He relayed what had happened up in the Headmaster's office, as well as the following conversation he'd had with Malfoy. As he spoke, Ron's expression turned from sullen to almost gleeful, while Hermione only looked more troubled.

"You mean Dumbledore's finally got control of the little git?" the redhead asked happily when Harry was done. "I always said that man was a genius!"

Hermione scowled. "You've called him crazy enough times, as well, Ronald. And anyway, I can't believe the Headmaster would do that!"

Harry raised an eyebrow and let out a slow breath, still staring thoughtfully into the fire. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Seemed fine at first, but the way Malfoy put it… Made me feel a bit guilty, to be honest."

Ron, once again, looked thunderstruck. "You two aren't serious, are you?"

The witch didn't seem to be paying any attention to him as she went on. "It's unethical! I could understand if he'd made Malfoy swear loyalty and just that! But making it so he had to obey? Dumbledore could make him do anything!"

Harry frowned uneasily. "Yeah, but he wouldn't. I mean… he's Dumbledore."

"Even so!" She was using the high-pitched voice of indignation they'd only heard her use when discussing S.P.E.W. "It's the principle. It's… it's slavery!"

"That's what Malfoy said."

They cast troubled looks at each other, unnerved.

Ron scoffed loudly, distracting them. "You're both exaggerating this. Think about it. How else was he supposed to make sure that prick didn't go running to You-Know-Who the first chance he got?"

Harry remembered the Slytherin's scornful, sarcastic words from earlier. Because the threat of what Daddy would do to me if I switched sides again just wasn't enough! He wondered, guiltily, if Dumbledore's measures really had been necessary.

"Anyway," the redhead went on, his tone becoming moody once again, "the only thing he's forcing Malfoy to do is torment us some more."

That brought them back to the topic at hand.

Hermione sighed. "Well, I can make another Galleon, and I'll bring the list – but are you sure, Harry?"

The boy glanced at her wryly. "No. But like I said, not much I can do, is there?"

xxx

"And who are you?"

Harry blinked at the sultry tone coming from a portrait. He stared up at the dark haired woman in perplexity, wondering if there was a correct response he could possibly give.

"I asked you a question, darling," Lilith purred, making him start.

"Oh, uhm, Harry. Harry Potter."

She smiled, her blood red lips curving up at the corners. "Is that so? And what, may I ask, is such a handsome boy doing around here?"

Harry blushed. "Actually, I came for Malfoy. I don't suppose you could let him know?"

She arched a thin black eyebrow. "What, the blond? Such an obnoxious boy, that one. He never speaks to me – not like you, my dear. Why don't you stay and talk with me, instead?"

"Uhm…" Really, what other reaction was there?

As if in answer to his silent prayer, the large gilded frame suddenly swung forwards, revealing the blond in question standing in the doorway.

"Potter, were you flirting with my portrait?" was the incredulous greeting.

Again, Harry felt his face heat up with embarrassment. "No! She was… she was flirting with me. I think."

Malfoy gave him a deadpan stare before reluctantly stepping out to join him. The painting swung closed behind him, and he turned slightly amused grey eyes on the sorceress. "Nympho," he accused, smirking. She huffed indignantly and disappeared from the frame, stalking off into another somewhere along the corridor.

"Ready to get this over with?" the Gryffindor muttered as they began walking towards the staircase.

"You sound so enthusiastic. What makes you think my presence at your little amateur group isn't going to be an all-around success?" the blond commented innocently.

Harry snorted, almost amused. "Yeah. Right."

xxx

Their reception was everything Harry had imagined it would be. He entered the Room first, and was met with absent smiles from most of the DA, which abruptly froze over at the sight of the person following him.

Within seconds, a riot of protests had erupted as the room's occupants surged forwards, some of them already pointing wands at the Slytherin in their midst. Only Ron and Hermione looked unaffected by the abrupt arrival, though Ron was scowling darkly and Hermione looked worried. Near them, Neville had gone pale with fright and Ginny was red with indignation.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry thought he actually saw Malfoy take half a step back when confronted with such open hostility. Taking pity on him, the Gryffindor firmly placed himself between the dozens of aimed wands and their target.

Finally, blessed silence fell across the room as the DA stared at their leader in confusion. Harry blinked, realising why even Malfoy would be intimidated by the sight of thirty or so people bearing down on him, hexes already on their lips.

Raising his hands in what he hoped was a calming gesture, he waited expectantly until the wands were slowly lowered. That was when the questions began.

"What is he doing here -?"

"Harry, have you lost your mind -?"

"Did he Imperio you into this -?"

"Will you move so we can hex him -?"

This would be the cause of a migraine and another bout of isolation, Harry could tell. Exasperated, he beckoned for Hermione to come join him. She obeyed, fighting her way through the crowd gathered tightly around Harry and Malfoy, carrying with her a familiar looking roll of parchment.

"Okay," he spoke up, fighting to be heard over the disbelieving voices of his peers. "Needless to say, we, uhm, have a new member –"

"What? You can't let him join!" Lavender Brown practically shrieked, and was soon joined by the entire congregation once again.

Gritting his teeth, Harry lost patience. Touching his wand to his throat, he muttered, "Sonarus." Then, bracing himself, he shouted, "ENOUGH!"

The noise was terrible. Those nearest him swayed faintly and clamped their hands to their ears. He saw Hermione wince in pain, and gave her an apologetic glance, before cancelling the spell.

Voice returned to normal volume, he continued. "First off – I have not lost my mind, I've not been Imperioed, and no, I won't let you hex him. Well… not while we're in here, anyway. Malfoy's here because Dumbledore ordered it, and he's prepared to sign the same way everybody else did." He paused, glancing around at all of them. He wasn't sure if a simple explanation would work, especially since he himself didn't feel any conviction on the matter.

When no one tried to tackle him out of the way in order to get to the blond, he felt daring enough to go on. "After he signs, it'll not only mean he won't be able to tell anyone else of what goes on here – none of you will be able to spread his presence here around the school. If anyone tries, Hermione's curse will activate. Is that clear?"

Outrage met his speech and he was forced to spend, in total, twenty minutes convincing a room full of people that, yes, he was still, in fact, in full possession of his sanity, and would not allow Malfoy to curse them all, and yes he had heard Dumbledore with his own ears, and yes, he had tried to protest, but no, it hadn't done any good, and finally no, Luna, he somehow doubted that Wrackspurts were the cause of his misguided judgement in allowing a Slytherin here.

Exhausted by the end of it, he was glad when Hermione took over, unrolling the parchment that served as their makeshift contract and handing it, along with a quill, over to Malfoy.

The blond took it disdainfully, but glanced up hesitantly at Harry. "You said this would stop it getting out I'm here?"

Hermione answered him. "Yes, but to be honest, it's mostly for our sake, Malfoy. Especially considering you spent most of last year trying to catch us out."

The Slytherin looked down his nose at her. "That was then, Granger. Now, as I'm sure you've gathered, I'm stuck as one of you."

Harry sighed, seeing an argument already. "Just sign the damn thing, Malfoy, and we can get on with things."

With ill grace, the blond huffed and scribbled down his signature, before thrusting the parchment back at Hermione. She glared at him, but proceeded to rummage in her pocket and pulled out the Galleon she'd made for him that morning. "Here," she snapped, shoving it at him with the same distaste he showed her.

"And what, exactly, is this supposed to do?" he drawled, spinning the coin experimentally between long fingers.

"I'll explain later," Harry muttered tiredly, rubbing his eyes. Then, regaining himself, he addressed the rest of the room in a louder voice. "Right, uhm, I'd wanted to cover duelling again, if that's okay."

He was met with a less enthusiastic response than usual, as most of the DA was still staring distrustfully at Malfoy. He ignored that and ushered the group toward the centre of the room.

"Find a partner," he instructed, soon falling into the teaching role he'd first taken up last year. "Before we do anything, I'll go over what we've already covered."

Harry watched as everyone around him scrambled to find a partner. He'd already resigned himself to partnering with Malfoy, knowing that no one else would willingly choose to work with the Slytherin, and he couldn't really force someone else into the unfortunate role, much as he'd like to.

When that was done, there was a rather large clearing around himself and the blond, leaving room for a few demonstrations, he realised.

Harry cleared his throat, oddly nervous with Malfoy's unimpressed stare boring into him. Trying to ignore the Slytherin, he addressed the gathered students. "Right, well. To pick up where we left off… If it's a serious duel, you're better off trying to incapacitate your opponent straight away, before they do any real damage." Without warning, he turned from his audience and aimed his wand at his nonplussed partner. "Stupefy!"

The blond neutralised the spell lazily with a quick Protego, looking bored.

"Obviously, that's not always going to work," Harry went on, sounding unsurprised. "There are other options – Expelliamus can disarm your opponent, if you're quick enough, and a Body-Bind curse is another way to –"

"Is this your method of duelling, Potter?"

Malfoy's voice rang out obnoxiously, drawing all attention to him. Harry blinked, looking at him in surprise. "What's wrong with my way of duelling?" he asked, genuinely curious, if a little defensive.

The Slytherin scowled. "It's actually quite pathetic if they're the spells you're recommending." Loud murmurs started up from the other students then, ready to defend their informal teacher, especially in the anxious mood they were currently in. "Not being very realistic, are we Potter?"

The Gryffindor folded his arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said! You don't think you're going to be able to win a war with Expelliamus and Body-Binds do you? God, I've had better hexes cast at me, and I'm not a Death Eater wanting to kill you!"

From the sidelines, Ron's, "Wouldn't be too sure of that," was clearly audible, and judging from the hisses that followed, generally agreed with.

Harry smirked, ignoring the others in the room. "Yeah, well, I don't think it'd be too effective if we tried to turn Voldemort into a ferret."

For a moment, Malfoy looked quite surprised, the wind taken out of his sails. Chuckles rose from the spectators. He blinked once, before his expression turned miffed. "Whatever, Potter. But to return to the point, why don't you show everyone what a real Wizard's Duel looks like?"

The Gryffindor raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What? With you?" He was abruptly aware of the tense but excited silence which had settled over the room as the other members of the DA awaited his response.

Malfoy shrugged. "Well, we do have a score to settle. Never got to finish that first duel back in second year, did we?" He was smiling, eyes alight with some emotion not to be trusted.

Harry glanced about surreptitiously, surprised to note that most of his 'class' looked quite eager for him to agree. Especially Ron – but then, he was probably just hoping to see someone kick the crap out of Malfoy.

Sighing at a decision he was sure he was going to regret later, Harry relented. "Fine," he murmured quietly, causing another ripple of whispers to go through the room and the blonde's expression to take on a look of triumph.

Ron stood up. "I'll be your second, Harry –"

"No." Harry spoke before he thought, and watched as the redhead looked hurt. Quickly, he amended, "No, I want you all to pretend this hasn't been arranged. It's out in the real world, with no seconds, no guarantees, no rules. Okay?"

Malfoy was staring at him intently, looking a little bit more impressed now. He swiftly ruined that, though, by drawling, "If you're quite done with your lecture, Professor…"

Sighing, Harry turned back to him tiredly. Malfoy was quickly proving to be the hostile, unhelpful presence he'd predicted. Not only that, he was already altering Harry's lesson to his own designs.

"On three," he instructed. "One, two –"

"Furnunculus!" Malfoy snapped out with a wicked grin, followed by his gleeful, "You never learn, Potter!"

Harry ducked the spell, avoiding it only thanks to Seeker reflexes. Straightening, he glared at his opponent, recalling the dirty tricks used last time they'd duelled formally. Really, he should have known.

"Petrificus Totalus!" he retorted, flicking his wand. Once again, the blond stopped the spell with a casual shield charm and responded with a hex of his own that was considerably less merciful that Harry's.

That was to be their pattern, it seemed. Harry, falling back on defensive and passive spells meant to immobilise, while Malfoy seemed determined to break him of the habit. The Slytherin cast viciously, as if trying to provoke Harry into responding with something more serious than a Confundus charm.

In truth, the Gryffindor wasn't really sure why he was holding back. He'd had more intense duels with Malfoy in the corridors, brought on by nothing more than a casual slight, and he definitely hadn't responded with Expelliamus during those particular incidents. He thought, vaguely, that it had something to do with the gathered audience he was currently supposed to be teaching.

Ever his opposite, Harry would have said Malfoy had gone to the other extreme, showing more skill now than he ever did during a spat outside Potions. In fact, Harry had to wonder where he'd learned half the stuff he knew. None of it, he was sure, was on the curriculum. Half of his spells also danced along the border of being Dark, as well, much to the Gryffindor's annoyance.

But then, he reconsidered, they were supposed to be portraying a real battle, and any spells a Death Eater used would be a lot Darker than Malfoy's Blasting curse.

Suddenly, Malfoy snapped out something harshly and from nowhere, thin, tight ropes appeared to encircle Harry. Unable to react fast enough, the Gryffindor could only struggle against the restraints. He saw Ron step forward out of the corner of his eyes, but Hermione stopped him from interfering.

This was the same spell he'd once seen Snape use to bind Lupin in the Shrieking Shack – and all of a sudden, Harry realised who Malfoy must have learned his new skills from. But that was a faint thought in the back of his head, being too distracted by the sight of the Slytherin stalking towards him, grin in place.

Malfoy came to a stop only when he was inches from Harry, smugness simply radiating from him. "Does this mean I win?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry snorted. "I thought you said incapacitating an opponent wasn't very realistic."

The blond seemed to consider this for a moment, before nodding. "I suppose you're right, at that." Smiling, he raised his wand, pausing only to lean closer and hiss spitefully, "Scared, Potter?"

Harry stared him in the eye, all the while twisting his wrist at an awkward angle, where it was just free of the bindings. "You wish," he retorted, finally positioning his wand. "Relashio!"

The jet of red and gold sparks erupted from nowhere, catching the Slytherin in the face. He swore loudly and threw himself backwards, raising a hand to cover his eyes.

Aiming his wand at himself this time, Harry took advantage of Malfoy's carelessness to mutter a quick, "Diffindo," and the ropes were slit open, tumbling uselessly around him.

Draco fell back warily, fighting not to rub at his stinging eyes. Potter stood staring at him with a slight smirk, and the crowd was more fascinated than ever, cheering their precious Saviour.

"That was a Slytherin trick, Potter," Draco called out, wiping away the smirk.

"Don't insult me."

The blond shrugged, making an effort to appear nonchalant. "What? I thought that was quite the compliment." Then, dropping his calm persona abruptly, he let out a vicious, "Serpensortia!" On the floor between them, the long black form of a snake materialised in a puff of smoke.

Potter snorted. "Talk about not learning anything, Malfoy. You tried this last time –"

But Draco wasn't done. If Potter thought he could outdo him in Slytherin tricks, he was sorely, sorely mistaken. Whirling around, he pointed his wand with deadly accuracy at the shocked face of Weasley. "Oppugno!"

Compelled by the command to attack, the snake reared and followed his directions, lunging toward the redhead with bared fangs. Students were screaming within seconds, scrambling to get away, and Potter was hissing in that eerie way of his – and it felt very much like second year all over again. Draco smirked.

The snake was already ceasing its attack, though, turning to regard the Parseltongue in their midst. Didn't matter, he hadn't really expected anything different.

Instead, he took the opportunity of Potter's distraction to level his wand at the Gryffindor and murmur, quietly, "Sectumsempra."

And then there was real chaos, as the only hope for the wizarding world went down in a spray of blood.