AN: Thanks again for following along with this story! And thanks for the reviews; it is so interesting and motivating to hear your thoughts about this story.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Dark Arts and Misery!" Longbottom greeted cheerfully as they tumbled out of the cabinet. "Oh, you've brought presents, I see," he amended when Hermione lifted the invisibility charm from the frozen man.

"Indeed," Harry responded, wadding his cloak up and stowing it. Hermione set about magicking restraints on Mr. Borgin.

Being at Hogwarts seemed to bring out the natural leader in Potter; he stood straighter, his eyes were brighter, his smile more charming. Draco felt himself scowl in a viscerally ingrained response. Draco was counting on the man to win them a war, but did he really have to be so insufferable?

"Several of us need to go down into the Chamber of Secrets and several should stay here to find the Diadem. I need to be in the first group for obvious reasons-" he paused as if for laughter, but even Ron didn't chortle. "Right, so other takers?"

Ron and Neville volunteered. Longbottom responded that he'd come-since he knew the patrol schedules-at the same time that Weasley sputtered, "We can't leave 'Mione here with a Death Eater and the darkest piece of magic imaginable! You know what they try to do to you when you're trying to destroy them." He paused and whispered much more softly, "Remember?"

Hermione looked both uncomfortable and peeved; she'd heard them tell the story of how the Weasel had been so paranoid he'd left their hunt and been convinced that she and Potter had hated him, been happier without him but she didn't appreciate being spoken about like an object to be protected, like she wasn't even there. She glanced at Draco, who, instead of the irritated expression she'd expected-given that Weasley had basically accused him of being untrustworthy-looked unusually somber.

"Make sure you don't hurt her then," he ordered as he stalked towards the exit. "Coming Potter, Longbottom?" he asked once he reached it. "I was under the impression we were in a bit of a hurry."

** TR *** TR *** TR **

Longbottom led the trio through the halls with a remarkable ease; Draco began to understand how he'd been leading the Hogwarts-based resistance so successfully now. The boy was a far cry from the bumbling pre-teen that Draco had stolen a Remembrall from. He winced a bit at the memory; he had been an unmitigated prat, and other than his recent change of heart, he was suspicious not much had changed. However, he wasn't left alone with his thoughts for long. Within fifteen minutes, they'd arrived in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and Potter hissed at the mirror until it morphed into a dark passageway.

"Ladies first," Potter smirked, gesturing for Draco to enter.

"Seriously, Potty?" he sneered back. But he climbed into the entrance, unwilling to show hesitation after that jibe. Maybe that had been Potter's intent. He slid down the dark passage and stumbled at the end, moving out of the way just in time to avoid being hit by Longbottom. Draco cast a quick Lumos, illuminating the huge cavern he now occupied. Fully furnished with a giant skeleton. Delightful. The Dark Lord's throne at the Manor made a lot more sense now; he had a distinct decorative flair.

"Admiring your house's legacy?" Potter quipped as he landed behind the other two men.

"My father, I am sure, would be ever so proud of me right now, here in the Chamber of Secrets. Well, if I were here for other reasons than defeating the Dark Lord, of course." Potter snickered, and Longbottom looked at him appraisingly. He shrugged.

"Okay, fangs." Potter trudged towards the gargantuan skeleton.

"You seriously killed that thing? Second year?"

"He did," Longbottom responded proudly as he stalked over to help his housemate.

"Bloody impressive" was all Draco could manage in response to that. Maybe their side did have a chance after all.

Not long thereafter, several fangs were stored in a quadruply sealed and protected bag and the trio used sticking charms on their shoes to trudge back up the slide. Draco poked his head out first, and was met by the hooked nose of Severus Snape.

"Draco, what company you're keeping these days," the greasy-haired man drawled after he'd disarmed then frozen first Draco, then Potter and Longbottom when they appeared a breath behind. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had defected to the Light."

Draco blanched and was surprised his heart didn't stop. They were done. Utterly and completely done for. He wished he could at least warn Hermione. He was trying to wandlessly summon his charmed Galleon when his mentor whispered Legilimens and Draco, wandless and unprepared, felt his godfather rush past his mental shields.

"Warn Hermione!" he yelled as his mentor ripped through his mind and he heard Potter and Longbottom trying to break their bonds.

"Very interesting." Snape swished his wand, warding the room. "We have quite the conversation ahead of us. I'd hate to be… interrupted."

His words hung in the air for a long moment before the man sighed, looking more tired than Draco had ever seen him.

"I will attempt to be as brief as possible, given that I assume we are all under time constraints here. I have a great deal of information that will be useful for you. First, I am still loyal to the Order of the Phoenix and will endeavor to aid your task destroying Horcruxes and defeating the Dark Lord in whatever capacity I may. Second-" He pinned Potter with a glare and raised his voice; the boy had started shouting obscenities as helpless tears tracked down his face. "I have information about the identity of an eighth Horcrux."

The room fell silent at this revelation for a moment before Potter screeched, "You killed Dumbledore you sodding bastard! I saw you do it, in cold blood!" Draco nodded his head; the flash of green from his godfather's wand, the corpse of his headmaster tumbling off the tower like a floppy toy… those images haunted his dreams still.

Snape inclined his head. "Yes. I did kill the headmaster, at his own request as you might recall. His plea at the end was for me to honor my promise to kill him. If you promise not to do anything foolish, I can show you. You may choose to still hate me afterwards." All three boys nodded, and Snape flicked his wrist to unbind them. Draco felt as if he stood on a shifting sand pile. Snape, disloyal to the Dark Lord? He'd seen him at Death Eaters meetings, seen how he mocked Potter at every turn… Potter crumpled slightly, as his nodded promise not to hate his sworn nemesis had deflated him.

"Dumbledore was dying. The ring you retrieved-" He nodded at Harry who weakly mirrored the gesture. "-was slowly killing him. He made me swear to kill him, to prove myself as a loyal servant of the Dark Lord and also to save Draco's soul." He quickly Transfigured one of the sinks into a Pensieve and extracted a silvery memory from his temple. "Proof, of a sorts," he explained.

Draco looked at Potter and Longbottom. He felt sick and wasn't sure he wanted to know what was in that memory. He'd had enough guilt slowly eating away at him that he'd tried to kill the headmaster; knowing the old fool had known about it and had wanted to save him anyways… it made him want to run and never turn back. Potter looked similarly conflicted, while Longbottom, to Draco's surprise, looked stoic as he stepped forward. The two followed and soon all three were immersed in a memory-in which Dumbledore had consulted with Snape about his horrifying cursed arm and extracted a promise from Snape to kill him in place of Draco.

"Why didn't you try to save him?" Potter howled at their former potions professor the moment they rejoined Snape in the bathroom. He clutched the sink, as if it could prevent his grief from crushing him. Tears streamed down his face, as he relived his beloved mentor's death and grappled with this new idea that the man he'd blamed for it could no longer be hated for it. Draco pretended he didn't see Longbottom offer his handkerchief as he blinked away moisture in his own eyes. Pensieves caused some people's eyes to water, that was all.

"I did try, you foolish boy," the current headmaster snapped. "Do not insult me! I brewed every healing draught and researched counter-curses in every spare moment I had. You can go on loathing me with every fiber of your being, but do not insinuate that I wanted to kill him or did not make every attempt to save him."

Another long moment of silence reigned, broken only by the faint drip of the end faucet.

"You mentioned there is an eighth Horcrux," Longbottom ventured. Draco snapped his head towards him; he'd forgotten that in light of the revelation about Dumbledore's death. Potter didn't look at any of them as he whispered, "Why would he even tell you about the Horcruxes?"

Snape cleared his throat. "The night that the Dark Lord killed-" He coughed wetly, and had Draco not known better would have thought he had choked back a sob. "-the Potters, he created a psuedo-Horcrux, accidentally. Lily's sacrifice for her son protected him from the Killing Curse, which rebounded and fragmented the Dark Lord's already damaged soul. One of those fragments found a home in the closest living creature."

Draco inadvertently recoiled from Potter a fraction. He'd felt the Dark Lord in his own mind; imagining a fragment of that thing's festering, toxic soul inside you… Potter did what Draco felt like doing and vomited into the closest sink.

"Dumbledore had long been suspicious, ever since your ability to speak Parseltongue was revealed in second year. His suspicions grew with your mental connection to the Dark Lord in fifth year."

Potter retched again into the sink.

"So Dumbledore knew I'd have to die," Potter stated his voice dull. He hung over the sink and Draco couldn't help but contrast his wan, hopeless face with the inspiring leader he'd seen step out of the Cabinet less than an hour before.

"I am afraid so." For the first time, Snape's voice lost its bite. His next words sounded tentative. "I have been investigating an alternative, to remove the fragment of his soul and place it in another receptacle. If you allow me to perform a few tests, I can refine my spells… there are, of course, no guarantees."

Potter croaked, "I want an Unbreakable Vow that you'll help us and that you're being truthful. Then, yes." To all of their surprise, Snape knelt down and held his hand out to the boy as he passed Draco back his wand.

Draco took it his wand out of habit more than anything. Unbreakable vows seemed to be a part of his new normal.

*** TR ** TR ** TR ***

They trudged back to the Room of Requirement, heads spinning with the information Snape had presented. Snape had offered Potter two options that he was "reasonably confident" would result in the soul fragment's being destroyed an allow the Boy-Who-Lived to continue doing so. Draco personally thought that both sounded pretty abhorrent and risky, but he supposed that was all relative to a certain death. Oddly, Potter had looked greatly cheered (again, relative to the sickly pallor he'd evidenced when confronted with the reality of the contents of his curse scar) by this news. The former potions professor had also handed Draco a vial of the tarry black goo they'd removed from Hermione's engagement ring; he had, apparently, restored it to its fully potency and claimed "Hermione would know what to do with it."

They paced the necessary three times before the wall, alert for the Carrows or others ready to shatter their plans. Finally, the door winked into existence and the three boys gratefully shuffled in.

Draco nearly ran into Potter, who had stopped dead, surveying the scene before him. Ron appeared to be unconscious and Hermione was huddled in a ball, crying. She snapped her head up upon hearing them enter and flung herself into Draco's arms. Instinctively he pulled her close and rubbed her back, just as he had so many nights back at the Manor. He couldn't make out what she was saying between her sobs.

He looked up to find Potter's wand trained on him, his eyes dark with fury.