Previously...

The blonde boy looked amused; a crooked smile on his face. Harry wanted to hex it right off but then Malfoy drawled—

"Ever heard of a little thing called a Horcrux?"

Harry was so taken aback, he almost flinched. Just how the hell did Malfoy know anything about a Horcrux after he'd spent months trying to get Slughorn to tell him?

"What do you want?" demanded Harry.

All amusement left Malfoy's face as though he had eaten something bitter. "I'd never want anything from you," he spat. "I need something… your help."

It was Harry's turn to look amused. "Like I'd ever help you, Malfoy."

He cracked his knuckles like his hands had gone stiff and he was clenching and unclenching them. "Don't worry, Potter," he hummed in a languid tone. "You and I are going to be great friends. Now follow me, I have something to show you."

"If you think I'm stupid enough to—"

Malfoy let out an obnoxious chortle. "Is that really question?"

Harry threw him a menacing glare.

Rolling his eyes Malfoy whined like an insolent child, "Do you want to know what I've been doing in the Room of Requirement or not?"

Harry couldn't lie. That question hooked and reeled him in. "Lead the way," he said.

Without another quip, Malfoy stood opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. While he paced up and down three times in front of the blank wall, Harry thought of a number of spells he could use in case this was a trick, but then a door appeared and all thoughts were forgotten; consumed by the burning curiosity to finally discover what the Slytherin had been up to all this time.

"What is this place?" he asked in quiet awe as he walked behind Malfoy through the mountainous jumble of miscellaneous things; furniture, books, jewels, hats, cloaks, dusty bottles and rusting swords, an endless number of things.

"It's the Room of Hidden Things," replied Malfoy leading them to the Vanishing cabinet in which Montague had gotten stuck in last year. Harry watched as he whispered an intricate incantation, unlocking one of the cabinet doors and reached in to pull something out.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You brought me here to give me a tiara?" But before Harry could say more, Malfoy was offering it out to him and Harry's fingers flinched, reaching out to touch the scar on his forehead, almost as though he could feel the presence of something, or the ghost of it at least.

"It's… it-it's a Horcrux," stammered Harry barely able to conceal his astonishment.

It was Malfoy's turn to raise an eyebrow. "It was. It was also Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem… but how did you know?"

"The better question is how do you know about Horcruxes," he said, unwilling to tell Malfoy that his scar was slightly prickling. "Did your precious Dark Lord tell you?"

Malfoy looked unfazed.

"I know what you are and I know what you did. No one would believe me when I told them Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater…"

Harry allowed the statement to hang in the air but the Slytherin didn't seem at all surprised to find out that Harry knew.

After a moment he began to speak. "Voldemort is holding my mother hostage—"

"You almost killed Katie Bell!"

Malfoy's face darkened, seething. "And you almost killed Hermione."

Harry cringed at the mention of her and the soft way he spoke her name. "That was an accident."

Malfoy barked a hollow laugh. "Oh yes. I forgot you were trying to kill me instead."

"I wasn't trying to kill anyone!" retorted Harry in defense. "I didn't know what the spell would do."

"Eleven cuts, Potter," he said looking Harry dead in the eyes. "That's what your little spell did."

"Is that why I'm here Malfoy? Revenge?"

The blonde appraised Harry for a moment and then smirked as though he'd won. "That's the brilliant thing about guilt, Potter. It eats away at you, day and night—"

"I didn't mean to," hissed Harry, furious that he had to defend himself to this—this—this Death Eater.

"Funny," hummed Malfoy, his gaze unfocused and bleary. "That's what I told myself when I almost killed the Bell girl."

"She's back from St. Mungo's, Malfoy."

"I know."

Then Malfoy's eyes focused once again on Harry, as though brought back from his thoughts. "Are you going to tell her it was me?" he asked casually, as though asking for the time or talking about the weather.

"No," said Harry after a long pause and before he could ask him anything more, demanded, "Why am I here Malfoy? How do you know about Horcruxes?"

"I didn't at first but…" Malfoy faltered as though it was tiring to speak. "My father has made very questionable choices, choices that have landed him in Azkaban but make no mistake, Potter, he's a clever wizard and when Voldemort found out that the diary had been destroyed, he was punished severely for it.

"That was when he realized that it must've been more than a simple journal. During my last visit to Azkaban, my father told me everything… I think he was afraid that if he kept the secret to himself, it might die with him. It didn't take him long to piece it all together, to understand that the diary had been a Horcrux. Our library alone has extensive works on Dark magic, going backs centuries, and—"

"It's been destroyed," said Harry suddenly.

Malfoy looked at Harry in dazed confusion. "The library?" he clarified.

"No, the horcrux!" Harry snapped. "You destroyed the Horcrux— but how?"

In a slow careful gesture, Malfoy took out a small vial hidden somewhere on his person.

"What is that?"

"Basilisk venom."

His eyes slid from the murky poison to Malfoy's eyes. Something tugged at his memory, something small but significant... Hermione... she had asked him for the password to get into the chamber of secrets. She'd tricked Harry so that Malfoy could go down into the Chamber of Secrets and extract Basilisk Venom. The same thing he used to destroy the diary.

"If he finds out you did this, he'll kill you."

Malfoy gave a casual shrug. "You mean if he finds out." And despite his efforts to remain nonchalant, Harry could hear the fear in the Slytherin's voice.

Then before he could fully grasp just how deep Malfoy's feelings for Hermione ran, to defy the Dark Lord, he was saying, "And I can tell you where another is."

Harry must have had an incredulous look on his face because Malfoy was wearing the most arrogant grin.

"I told you, Potter, you and I are going to be great friends."

"What's the catch?" he scowled.

"Well," intoned the blonde. "Friends help each other, don't they?"

"What do you want?"

"Your help to execute a plan. And then when all this is over, I want protection from the Order—for me and my mother— a pardon... and I want my father out of Azkaban."

Harry grit his teeth. "No," he ground out. Lucius Malfoy had gotten away with far too much. He'd hurt Ginny, almost killed her and that thought alone... "He tried to kill at us the Ministry, he almost killed Ginny—"

"I'll make certain—"

"As if you have any control over what your father does!"

"Once Voldemort is dead he'll have no reason to go after you or anyone else, and besides," said Malfoy in a smooth drawl. "He'll forever be indebted to me for arranging his freedom from Azkaban. I think most people would consider that a life-debt, wouldn't you?"

Harry felt that Malfoy was manipulating him, swaying him with his words.

"You've got it all worked out, haven't you Malfoy?"

"The sooner you can kill Voldemort the—"

"The sooner you can have Hermione all to yourself and be rid of all the people in your way. Including your father who will," as he had put it, "forever be indebted to you."

Malfoy glared at Harry coldly.

"No," Harry began to say. "No way—"

"I can give you Death Eaters," added Malfoy quickly before he could deny him again. "My aunt Bellatrix will be one of them… I believe you have a score to settle with her."

"How?" he scoffed. How could Malfoy possibly arrange that? Bellatrix might be a lunatic but she was a powerful witch.

"I'm going to let them into the castle with the pretense of completing the mission I was given upon my Death Eater initiation: kill Albus Dumbledore—and you Potter, will stop me."

"That's insane!" he spat. "What you're saying is—"

"Potter," purred Malfoy. "What if I told you, you could prove Severus Snape to be the duplicitous snake that he is, once and for all?"

Harry's eyes narrowed in doubt.

"If I fail to kill Dumbledore, Snape will try to do it in my stead."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he made an Unbreakable Vow to carry out the task I was given if I was to fail. If he breaks that Vow he's as good as dead. It's his life or Dumbledore's."

Harry's mind recalled the snippets of conversation he'd overheard the night of Slughorn's Christmas party.

If you tell me what you are trying to do, I can assist you.

He knew Snape had vowed to protect him but not to kill Dumbledore if all else failed… Harry raised his eyes to meet Malfoy's. "You really have worked out everything," he whispered in disbelief. Then he was shaking his head. No, no this was all too risky. "Why not go straight to Dumbledore with this?" he asked. "We can go, together, now and—"

"Because Dumbledore trusts Snape and I don't."

Harry paused. "Me neither," he admitted.

"Merlin Potter, something we can finally agree on."

"But I don't exactly trust you either," finished Harry.

Malfoy looked irritated. "I destroyed the Diadem, didn't I? Looks like we're one-for-one Potter." Harry loathed to admit it but that was true. Malfoy had found and destroyed a Horcrux and there was no coming back from that and still… Snape had taken the Vow to protect Malfoy and Malfoy was ensuring his death. What did that say about Malfoy as a person? Harry himself hated Snape but… what if he was wrong, what if—

"Merlin, I'd thought you'd jump at the chance to see Snape buried, especially after what he did."

Harry's head snapped up so fast he felt his neck crick. "What he did…?"

Malfoy's lips pulled down into an ugly frown. "You don't know?" he spat; the disgust of Harry's ignorance plain on his face. "These people who protect you don't tell you much do they, Potter?"

"Spit it out," barked Harry who was losing his patience.

Malfoy's voice dropped to a whisper. "The way my mother tells it, my father is in Azkaban because he failed to retrieve a prophecy... the same prophecy Severus Snape told the Dark Lord of, all those years ago... the same prophecy that made you the Boy-who-lived..."

Harry had stopped breathing. He was standing stock-still as waves of shock crashed over him, wave after wave, obliterating everything except the knowledge of what had truly happened. It had been Snape who had learned of the prophecy. It had been Snape who had carried the news of the prophecy to Voldemort. Snape and Peter Pettigrew together had sent Voldemort hunting after his mother and father…

"Potter?"

Nothing else mattered to Harry just now. "I have to go," he said through numb lips.

"Potter?" said Malfoy again, this time in warning. "Where do you think you're going?"

But Harry's feet were taking him away, almost running and— OOMMPFH!

Harry had the wind knocked out of him and the room filled with the cling and clang of falling objects as Malfoy tackled Harry into a pile of junk.

"Get off me!" cried Harry, kicking and struggling aimlessly. His anger had taken over every part of him.

"Think Potter, THINK!" bellowed Malfoy. "Don't go running off like some half-cocked imbecile."

Harry was panting, his chest heaving, on the verge of tears. How could Dumbledore trust Snape—have let him teach here—after knowing what he'd done to his parents!

"Potter, listen to me," said Malfoy sharply, his eyes honed in on Harry's. "I'm going to get off you, and you can do either one of two things: be the reckless Gryffindor that you are, which will likely amount to nothing, or you can be patient, play your cards right and we'll both get what we want.

"Consider this my gift to you Potter… a peace offering. All you have to do is alert the Aurors beforehand and your Order fellows will have five more Death Eaters back in Azkaban. Surely you don't want to miss out on a little retribution for your parents and Sirius Black."

Harry thought for a long while. Malfoy was offering him Bellatrix, and Snape, so he could have Hermione. That was the truth behind it all, the true bargain, the unspoken clause. His breath evened out as he calmed, trying to think rationally. Malfoy was doing this for his own self-preservation, his own gain, but if Harry agreed, the plan itself was brilliant. He knew it was a risk trusting Malfoy, but the idea of capturing Bellatrix, and proving to Dumbledore that Snape was a traitor—it wasn't an opportunity he could let slip through his fingers and after all, Malfoy had destroyed a Horcrux.

Except... except there was a huge gaping hole in his plan.

"Just how do you plan on bringing in Death Eaters into Hogwarts? It's practically impenetrable."

A triumphant smirk spread slowly across Malfoy's face as he climbed off Harry. He knew he'd succeeded in convincing him to agree to set a trap for the Death Eaters, as well as the other unspoken stipulations to their agreement.

"Honestly Potter, must I think of everything?" he mocked playfully, offering out a hand to help him up. Harry didn't take it. "I suppose I have to be the brains and the beauty," he said letting his arm fall to his side. "You can be the—"

"Malfoy," warned Harry, raising himself up.

"Montague's vanishing cabinet," he said quickly without skipping a beat.

His brow furrowed piecing it together, finally understanding what Malfoy had been doing in the room all these months. All the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.

"But it's broken," he realized.

Malfoy took a deep breath. "It has been remade."

Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Is that… is that a line from Lord of the Rings?"

His smile grew like a Cheshire cat. "Here," said Malfoy handing Harry a small gold coin on a loose chain. "Take this." For a moment he recognized it as one of the coins Hermione had created last year for the DA members. "Wear it at all times. When it turns hot call your Order lot. Look to the sky for the Dark Mark. Curse me, disarm me, I don't care, just make it look real because there's likely to be an audience so stay in character."

"I'll warn Remus beforehand, he can—"

"No," snapped Malfoy. "No one other than the two of us can know. Not even Weasley. If Voldemort so much as suspects my disloyalty, he'll kill my mother."

"But I thought—"

"NO! The order can't help her! No one can, not right now at least. He has her trapped in the Manor. I was supposed to get her out but the sick bastard is using our own blood wards to keep her in there. I should've acted sooner, but I…" Malfoy faltered, his hands running through his hair furiously.

Harry took a moment to process how twisted that was, even for Voldemort; to keep a mother imprisoned in her own home while her son was sent on a suicide mission. Then something occurred to him. "Won't Voldemort be angry that you not only failed to kill Dumbledore but also got other Death Eaters captured?"

"He'll be furious," laughed Malfoy, his eyes lighting with genuine mirth. "But I'll be long gone."

Suited him just fine for Malfoy to disappear but something bothered him about all this. "Gone where?" demanded Harry.

"Nowhere. I'll be dead."

"Dead?" Harry all but shouted.

"Fiendfyre," clipped Malfoy. "While the Aurors round up the Death Eaters I'm going to escape through the vanishing cabinet, but as far as everyone else is concerned, I died, burned to a cinder."

"And you expect people to just believe that?"

"They will," he said with confidence. "Because that's what you'll tell them."

"W-wait," said Harry putting his hands up. This was madness. They were in way over their heads. Sure, he'd been in much more dangerous situations before but he'd never planned to put himself there in advance.

"What about your mother?" he blurted. "Won't she be in danger?"

Malfoy shook his head. "Voldemort won't kill her. When he gave me this mission, he never expected me to succeed. My death is the punishment he was hoping to inflict on my family. He'll take great pleasure in witnessing her grief and you can't suffer when you're dead now, can you Potter?"

Harry's head was spinning. Malfoy had designed things with perfect intricacy. If one thing went wrong, it'd upend everything.

"Does Hermione know about this?" he asked.

He watched as the Slytherin's jaw clenched and unclenched, how his eyes were glistening. Speaking her name alone seemed to be able to injure him and Harry thought, with incredulity, that given the right words, he could make Draco Malfoy cry and that wasn't something he particularly wanted to see again.

"No," he confessed softly. "She knows nothing of this. Not even the Basilisk venom."

Harry was looking at Malfoy with reproach in his eyes. "You're just going to let her think you're dead?"

"I don't have a choice!" he shouted, whirling on Harry. "It's too dangerous for everyone."

Harry scowled. "And you claim to love her."

Malfoy stepped into Harry, who was only taller than him by an inch but at the moment seemed to have grown another foot. "Make no mistake Potter, when all this is over, when you finally kill Voldemort—and you will kill him—I will come back for her and she will understand that everything I have done, I have done for her."

Harry saw the resolution on his face and despite everything else he felt about Malfoy, he couldn't help but nod; a slow, hesitant nod but relenting all the same. A moment later the blonde had composed himself, a blank expression on his face. "Now I don't know how many other Horcruxes there are exactly, but—"

"There are seven," said Harry.

"Seven?" balked Malfoy, losing that composure quickly. "I never imagined—I thought… it makes sense though. Seven is a powerful number."

Harry nodded quickly. He knew all of this, Dumbledore had explained as much. He was far too excited to go through everything again. "So between Dumbledore, you and I, we've destroyed three: the diary, the diadem, and a ring—there's a ring."

"The snake, Nagini," said Malfoy with some urgency. "I have no proof but I'm sure of it… I can almost taste the dark magic."

Harry's eyes narrowed in thought and as if it confirmed that it must be true he said softly, "Dumbledore thinks so too…"

"And I might know of another," he added. "When my father was given the diary to keep, he also gave something to Aunt Bellatrix. I don't know what exactly but I'm sure she still has it. It might be—"

"A horcrux?" asked Harry doubtfully. "That's grasping at straws."

"Maybe," he admitted. "But if it is, I know where she's kept it."

Harry listened intently.

"Before my father gave the diary to Ginny Weasley he kept it in the family vault at Gringotts. My aunt would've done the same."

"How can you be so sure?" he challenged.

Malfoy shrugged as if the answer was obvious. "She wouldn't have kept it in the Lestrange Manor for an elf, or for her husband Rodolphus to find. She has this twisted obsession with the Dark Lord. She would have kept it somewhere only she had access to. Also, the Lestrange Manor was searched several times by the ministry when they were arrested and we never heard of anything being found. Father knew there'd be similar searches of our estate. It's why he never hid the diary there. Trust me, whatever Voldemort gave her is in her vault—unless he's taken it back."

"Right," said Harry uncertainly. He wasn't entirely convinced that Bellatrix Lestrange had a Horcrux hidden away in Gringotts, neither was he comforted by the thought of it being true. If anything was in her vault it would be impossible to get to. He hoped for their sake that Malfoy was wrong.

"Anything else?" he asked.

Malfoy seemed to deflate. "No," he said rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. "I thought he'd made three, maybe four, but never seven."

Harry cleared his throat. "Listen," he began hesitantly. "We have a deal... but... even if I wanted to— and I don't— I can't promise that they'll release your father. The most I can do is vouch for you and your mother, the rest is up to the Ministry."

With his fists clenched tightly, the blonde boy, who Harry barely recognized at that point said, "Alright Potter," cracking his knuckles again as if a nervous tick. "We have a deal… This will be the last time we meet. Don't try to contact or speak to me. There are eyes everywhere in the castle. All you have to do is wait for my signal. Hang on to that coin with your life because it won't be long."

Harry nodded in agreement and put the chain around his neck and under his clothes to hide it from view. Sensing the ensuing awkwardness, he began to leave.

"Wait," called out Malfoy. He turned with trepidation. Harry was scared and excited all at once. If it worked, it'd be a huge blow to Voldemort but if he stuck around any longer he'd lose his nerve.

"I want you to give this to Hermione."

Harry stared at the offending object that Malfoy had pulled out from the pocket of his robes. Shaking his head, he said no. He couldn't be encouraging this, whatever this was between them, they were only prolonging the inevitable; Malfoy was leaving and… Harry didn't know how things would turn out. Malfoy might never come back, Harry himself might die; Voldemort was growing more and more powerful by the day… but then Malfoy said a word Harry thought would never pass his lips.

"Please," he said pushing it into his chest. "Just give it to her, alright? When I'm gone?"

"What is it?" asked Harry taking the brown paper parcel.

Malfoy, if Harry could believe it, gave a shy smile. "A book, Potter. What else..."

Harry offered out his hand, not out of sympathy or a gesture of friendship but because Harry knew the courage it took to defy Voldemort. "I'll see you on the other side Malfoy."

He took it hesitantly as if perhaps it might be a trick but then a moment later the two boys were shaking hands; both looking skeptical of each other. Then they let go of their grasp, determined expressions on both their faces.

"Take care of her Potter," said Malfoy. "Don't let her do anything brave."

Harry gave no reply but understood the unspoken promise he was making. There was anguish in Malfoy's eyes, a forlorn resignation that told Harry that he had also considered that perhaps, he would never come back, that like all other Death Eaters who had forsaken Voldemort, he'd be killed too, or worse…