(Author's Notes: A Ron/Draco fic that will end up developing into a chaptered fic though I don't know how long it will be. There will be short scenes of Neville/Harry and Remus/Severus. This fic is based off the song "Frail" by Jars of Clay. If you would like to learn the lyrics or don't know them in the first place (they're an excellent Christian band), copy and paste the following link: http://www.angelfire.com/or/christianmusic/frail.html. Anyway, this is dedicated to Cye's Girl (better known as Lady), since she's obsessed with Draco/Ron at the moment and I needed to give her a present for Christmas!

Summary: Draco Malfoy has joined Dumbledore's side as the Final Battle draws near. The wizarding world is in chaos, but so is Draco's heart and mind. The Malfoy must confront his demons if he's truly going to be loyal to Dumbledore, and a certain Weasley has been recruited by Dumbledore to help him confront them.

Disclaimers: All of these characters belong to Rowling, who (surprise!) isn't me. Look, people, if I was Rowling, I'd be rolling around in a pool filled with money instead of writing fan fiction.. I mean, really.

Warnings: This story contains slash. This means male/male relationships. If homosexuality or bisexuality is against your religion or simply against your ethics, please don't read this. If you do and send a flame, I will show it to Lady and laugh at your stupidity with her. Thank you.

~Cinaed)

Convinced of My Deception

By Cinaed

The scenery around the three figures was lovely in and out of itself. The trio stood on the top of a hill that was surrounded by small knolls, all of the tor covered in lush green grass that any innocent child would laugh and immediately throw himself upon so that they could roll in the softness and watch for striking, exotic butterflies that might dance among the bright wildflowers that poked up from amid the grasses. It was a clear, sunny day, the bright blueness a sharp match to one of the trio's eye color; there wasn't a cloud in the sky, seemingly whisked away by the light, soothing breeze that ruffled the small cluster's tresses in a mild gesture.

Nevertheless, there was enough storminess in two of the trio's eyes and features to ruin the lovely prospect of a photograph of the afternoon location. The smallest and youngest of the group's gray eyes were blazing with defiance as he repeated the words that had caused a dark scowl to form on the other, irate man's pale visage.

"I refuse to be a Death Eater, Father." The words were matter-of-fact, contradicting the intense emotions the pale blonde was actually feeling.

"Don't be ridiculous, boy," snapped the other blonde, who resembled the teenager in nearly every way apart from their age differences. There could be no doubt to anyone who might have been there to watch that they were father and son.

"I'm not being silly, Father." The teen was relentless, only his blanched visage revealing how much this talk was taking out of him. "I'm thinking on my own. A Malfoy is supposed to be clever, isn't he?" Scorn laced the question, and Lucius Malfoy's gaze darkened.

"You little-" Instead of a snap, the man was practically snarling, a flush on his otherwise pasty cheeks. It was on pure instinct that he raised a hand, meaning to strike the insolent boy across that similar visage, and it was only then that the third member of the tête-à-tête reacted. Pale blue robes shifted, the same color as the sky, as the oldest of the group drew his wand and pointed it at Lucius.

"I would lower my hand if I were you, Lucius," was said calmly, though the wizard's eyes were blazing like the bright sun that was beating down on their heads, only pale azure instead of a flaming yellowish-orange. "I might not use the Unforgivable Curses, but I can make you very miserable."

Burning gray eyes turned to narrow in hatred at the older wizard before Lucius hissed out, sounding almost like a serpent, "Damn you, you cursed old man! I should have sent the brat to Durmstrang despite his mother!"

The wizard gave no response to the words that dripped with hatred, and after a moment Lucius lowered his hand, clenching the pale member into an incensed fist. Once the hand had dropped to the older Malfoy's side, the silver-haired wizard glanced in the direction of Lucius' son, his words as serene as ever. "Draco, Apparate to the destination we discussed earlier, please."

"What are you talking about?" Lucius demanded even as the silvery-blond youth nodded. "Draco's too young to-" He stopped dead when his son Apparated from the site. Gray eyes widened in shock before he scowled with venom at one of his most-hated enemies. "Who taught him that?"

"I did." Gray clashed with blue as the two adversaries locked gazes for a long moment.

"Damn you, and all of Hogwarts! The Dark Lord will kill you and all your pathetic Mudblood-lovers! Just you wait and see!"

A small, knowing smile curved the old man's visage. "I'm sure he'll try, Lucius," was said softly before the wizard Apparated away, leaving the blonde all along on the scenic hill.

Lucius closed his eyes tightly, numb fingers finally digging into his pockets for his wand to return to the Malfoy Manor, even as he mumbled to no one, "You didn't hear me out, Dumbledore. The Dark Lord will kill you and all your pathetic Mudblood-lovers, but I will be the one to perform the Killing Curse upon Draco. It will be I who kills my traitor of a son."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Draco Disapparated into Diagon Alley, ignoring curious looks directed his way at his disheveled appearance and ashen countenance. The thin blonde found the nearest bench and crumpled onto the smooth surface, burying his head in trembling hands. His quivering frame showed signs of his obvious distress, but no one moved to reassure him that he had done the right thing until the gentle hand of Albus Dumbledore fell upon that shaking shoulder.

"You did the right thing, Draco."

"Sure I did," was said bitterly, the blonde not bothering to glance at the man. His words were dripping with self-loathing. "It was /really/ the right thing to betray my father and run away like a childish coward."

"You /are/ a child, Draco, and you weren't being a coward."

"I consider someone of seventeen years to be an adult."

"Well, I don't, and you'll find that most people don't either."

"Lovely," drawled Draco, sounding much more like his old self as he raised his face towards the headmaster of Hogwarts, only pink streaks on his pale cheeks to give any clue that he might have been weeping. "So I'm old enough to backstab my father but I'm not old enough to be considered an adult?"

"You didn't backstab your father, Draco. You made a decision that you felt was true to yourself; however, it wasn't a decision that your father approved of. You would be betraying /yourself/ if you didn't hold true to your own beliefs." Dumbledore's tone was gentle.

"He let him kill Mother.. He just stood there and let the Dark Lord torture her and kill her." The low, strained whisper was so soft that the headmaster wasn't sure he heard the plaintive words correctly. "Just to get rid of his debt.."

"I'm sorry, Draco."

A hoarse, bitter laugh was the blonde's response before he stood, attempting a sneer that belied the pain in those gray orbs as he gazed up at Dumbledore. "Don't pity me," was said flatly. "I'll make the Dark Lord pay, if it's the last thing I do. I'm only on your side because I'm going to have my revenge, and you're out to kill him too."

Dumbledore didn't say anything to act in response to Draco's straightforward words, and instead glanced around at the bustling crowd. It was mid-summer, and many were buying their school clothes in a vain, frantic attempt to beat the multitudes. "I'll take you to your room in The Leaky Cauldron."

"Fine." The short, sharp word could have slashed the velvety flesh that Draco flaunted as he ran a hand through his silvery-blond locks, could have sliced through that pale flesh and sent dark blood dripping onto the gray stone walkway beneath his feet.

Dumbledore ignored the young man's tone, and instead waved a hand in the direction of the pub where the Malfoy would be spending the rest of his summer, much in the manner that Harry Potter had before his third year. Blue eyes watched the teen carefully as Draco lifted his head in defiance and stalked towards The Leaky Cauldron, distaste obvious in the teenager's curled lip.

The headmaster of Hogwarts could barely keep from letting a sigh escape his lips. Although he knew he could put up with the Malfoy's antics and malicious temper, he wasn't sure if the rest of his companions would be able to.

Actually, somehow he doubted they would be.

Another sigh hovering on his lips, Dumbledore followed after the promenading teen. The superiority in the flaunt of those slender hips was just one of the quirks that would irritate many of his companions, not to mention the way that he tossed his head in contempt at the sight of The Leaky Cauldron.

"/That/ is where I'll be staying?" Derision dripped from every word.

"Yes, Draco." As composed as ever, the headmaster offered him a slight smile before he bowed and Apparated away, leaving the blonde standing, alone, in front of the pub.

Gray eyes studied the building, and a low, plaintive sound issued from the teenager's full, pale lips. "My life is hell," he declared to no one, and no one bothered to reply.

(To be continued)