(Author's Thanks: A17, Cye's Girl, Ayako, and Andrea for reviewing.

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.

Author's Comments: Oh, and the *-*-*-*-*-*-*-* symbols mean that we've switched to another person's POV. The story will stay in third person, but which each of these symbols we can delve deeper into the mind of that person. Oh, you'll see what I mean once you start reading. Enjoy the latest part of Convinced of My Deception!

~Cinaed)

Convinced of My Deception

By Cinaed

"What-what did you do?" Ron's incredulous question hung in the air as Neville's smile faltered and the invisible fingers tightened on his heart.

"I-I went to a fitness center and Gran h-had me work with a t-trainer to get me-me into s-shape." The uncertain lilt had become a stutter, and those hazel eyes lowered to the floor as his heart twisted painfully in his chest. Then the words Neville had been secretly longing to hear filled his ears.

"You look amazing, Neville!" Hermione's declaration caused a blush to grace that bronzed visage, and his hazel eyes rose to see the quartet beaming at him, most of them not quite over their shock but willing to smile nonetheless.

"Really?" was whispered softly, hopefulness shimmering in those expressive eyes once more. "I-I know I lost a few s-stones-"

"You look amazing, Neville," the Head Girl stated firmly, pleased to note the thrilled flush which lightened that bronzed face with its pale pink color.

Beyond the group, a low, mocking groan was uttered. "Gods, I think I'm going to be sick. Sodding gits, do you all really think I'm that interested in Longbottom's transformation?"

Ron, Ginny, and Hermione simply glared in Malfoy's direction as Harry continued to gawk at the blushing Gryffindor. The Boy Who Lived seemed to be in shock, his emerald gaze stunned as he continued to take in Neville's altered appearance.

"You-you look great," Harry finally muttered, a dark blush staining his cheeks as he realized the stupidity of his words.

Neville only beamed in response, his pink flush darkening to a deep scarlet.

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

Draco let out another groan at Potter and Longbottom's idiocy, ignoring the Gryffindor gaggle's various glowers. "Sod off," he bit out against the pain, raising his wand and muttering a blessed spell. The enchantment made a red curtain spring up to block the annoying scene Longbottom was causing.

"Lousy bastard of a git and a whore," he heard the older Weasley growl furiously, followed by Granger's shocked, "Ron!"

"Weasley," Draco called through the curtains, "you need to go get laid. And, by the way, you only got one out of four. My mother wasn't a whore, my parents were married when I was born and to each other no less, and my father /is/ a git. We'll just have to see whether I'm a lousy Head Boy or not." Before the Weasley could respond, the Malfoy murmured a silencing spell. Sighing in relief at the sacred hush, the Slytherin leaned back, wincing from the agony.

Damn Parkinson and her cronies. He'd get revenge, someday; vengeance for his mother took precedence. But, after all, a Malfoy always got his revenge.

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

Ron glared at the crimson curtain, desperate to get beyond that drape to the bastard within and to wring his bloody neck. Flashing cerulean eyes remained fixated on the screen as Harry seemed to get over his initial shock.

"You really do look amazing, Neville," the black-haired seventh year said earnestly, smiling at the still-blushing teen.

"T-Thanks." The reply was soft but heartfelt as those easy-to-read eyes radiated Neville's delight at the compliments. His flush diminished in a gradual color that faded from a bright pink back to the warm, golden natural hue of the flesh. The normally bumbling Gryffindor sat down next to Harry, as far away as possible from the curtain which hid a certain Slytherin from view. Aware that everyone's eyes were upon him, Neville offered them an affable smile. "How was everyone's summer?" he inquired, unknowingly completing the loop back to the original conversation that Draco Malfoy had interrupted.

Yet it seemed as if Fate had ruled that the question would never be answered, for just then two familiar figures bounded into the compartment, flushed and grinning over some sort of victory.

"Who would have thought that Parkinson was /horribly/ afraid of spiders?" The wicked grin on Seamus Finnigan's visage showed that the news had been used to terrify the Slytherin, even as his thick Irish accent sang out gleefully.

His tall, dark-skinned companion wasn't quite as gleeful, but mischief danced in Dean Thomas' dark eyes as he added, "I hope she didn't kill the tarantula. Lee Jordan would be very mad at us."

"Lee's tarantula is still alive?" The second youngest Weasley had finally been distracted from glaring at the drape, and now turned widened eyes upon the jovial duo.

"Yes," the Irish lad informed him, his clear brogue still bright with laughter. "Or at least, it will be if Parkinson doesn't step on it with her enormous feet." The two friends snickered together.

"Maybe you should go rescue it," softly commented Neville, and the two Gryffindor finally noticed him. Their eyes widened in shock.

"Neville?" they exclaimed together, and the hazel-eyed youth was back to furiously blushing.

"I-I lost a couple stones."

"We can tell. You look wonderful," stated Dean, grinning at the other boy before he turned back to Seamus. "Maybe we /should/ go rescue the tarantula. Lee would be very annoyed if we managed to get it killed."

The Irish youth grinned boyishly in response. "All right." His sky blue eyes flickered in Neville's direction as he added, "You look amazing, Neville. I wonder how many girls are going to be after you."

With that parting comment, the duo vanished to rescue the tarantula from Parkinson's gigantic feet. Ron, meanwhile, returned his attention back to glaring at the curtain.

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

Noting that his best friend was otherwise occupied, Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to recall what Neville's question had been. His clear emerald eyes went blank as he racked his brains before finally he smiled a slow grin in the Longbottom's direction.

"My summer was all right," he declared, not wanting to comment on the fact that he had continually collapsed in agony over his scar during the summer. He wanted to keep that pleasant smile on his fellow Gryffindor's face for as long as possible. "How was yours, besides the daily torture of staying in shape?"

"It was nice," softly admitted the hazel-eyed teenager, glancing down and not meeting the other boy's eyes. "One of my uncles tried to help me study in advance for Potions, but I accidentally turned him green."

Harry couldn't help the snort of amusement that escaped him, and he could see a hint of an impish smile toying with Neville's lips. Had the other boy ever looked so mischievous or carefree? If he had, the Potter had never seen him during that time, but now he was glad that the Longbottom had a chance to be blithe and mirthful. It suited him.

"I assume you turned him back to his normal color?" Hermione commented, sniffing in disapproval at the thought that anyone would leave a mistake like that unfixed.

That brought Neville's head up, and his greenish-brown orbs were filled with complete innocence as he replied, "Well, no, Gran did that, but I learned not to mix dragon's blood with crushed beetle."

"Always a good thing to know," Ginny teasingly commented.

Harry realized that he hadn't even bothered to glance at Ron's sister when she had spoken; he had been too busy wondering how many hours Neville's grandmother had worked him to transform him into a golden-

-Beauty. The brunet found that his cheeks were suddenly blazing with warmth at the term his mind had just used. Well, Neville /was/ handsome now, and just because he was another guy that didn't mean Harry couldn't appreciate the change. Right?

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

Neville noticed that Harry was flushed once more, but didn't think anything of it as he replied to Ginny. "Yes, especially since that was an easier lesson to learn than when I put snake scales and bat's blood together."

While Ginny and Harry looked blank (Ron was still glaring in the direction of where Malfoy was hidden), Hermione looked horrified. "But-but if you do that-"

"Yeah, I was a frog for a few minutes. Luckily, Trevor didn't take offense."

"A frog?" Neville noticed that Harry was trying very hard not to laugh, and grinned at the other boy. It was always nice to see the Boy Who Lived chuckling or smiling, considering what he'd been put through since he was only a baby.

"I was a very cute frog. Gran told me so," he informed Harry, still grinning.

Even as the other boy's laughter filled the compartment, Neville's gaze flickered over to Ron, who was still glaring at the curtain. "Um, Ron, are you going to stare at the curtain until we get to Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

Even as Hermione smacked the Weasley across the back of his head, Ginny piped up. Her tone was curious. "You're taking Advanced Herbology this year, Neville?"

The Longbottom nodded, the unfamiliar sensation of pride stirring in his chest at the mention of his favorite class. "Professor Sprout says she'd like me to spend the summer on an internship for Hogwarts, keeping the gardens in shape for next year," he informed them, knowing that the other seventh-years had probably been offered some sort of internship.

"Really?" Ron broke his glare away from the crimson screen to blink at Neville. The Weasley's freckles stood out vividly as the teenager raised an eyebrow. "That sounds interesting."

"Congratulations, Neville!" The Granger's voice was filled with delight. "We'll probably see a lot of each other then. Professor McGonagall asked me if I would stay on next year as a student teacher for Transfiguration." Hermione smiled and fingered her Head Girl badge as she spoke, unconsciously mimicking Percy's nervous tick.

The two future interns glanced at Ron and Harry. However, the duet had decided that the floor seemed very interesting to study.

A pair of emerald eyes and a pair of cerulean orbs examined the floor as the brunet and the redhead looked slightly embarrassed for a few seconds of silence. Finally, Harry admitted in a mumble, "I haven't been asked to do anything."

"Neither have I," added Ron, and Neville saw the faint hint of envy on the Weasley's face as he added, "Of course, Harry, you're going to be snatched up by a Quidditch team as soon as you graduate."

"I guess so," the Boy Who Lived agreed, but he didn't seem too enthusiastic about it. "It's hard to even think about after Hogwarts. I mean, we've spent almost seven years here." There was an almost melancholy tone to Harry's words, and the green behind his glasses were dark with a negative emotion.

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

Harry couldn't help the pang of sorrow that made his chest ache at the thought of leaving Hogwarts. The castle was the only home he had ever loved, and he didn't want to think about facing the world after Hogwarts. Even at the Burrow he felt uncomfortable, standing out amid the redheads.

"You could always travel around." The suggestion made him blink, and he glanced up to see Neville smiling at him. "After all, I'll bet you've never been to America."

"Who would /want/ to visit America?" Ron snorted, shaking his head and looking relieved at the change of topic. "All the wizards and witches there are crazy. I think Harry should visit some places in Europe first. Like Germany."

"Or Wales!" The exclamation erupted from Ginny, who blushed when everyone glanced at her in bewilderment. "I've been reading books about Myrddin."

"Myrddin?"

"That's Welsh for Merlin. You know, of King Arthur's Court?"

"He could go to France," Hermione suggested. "I know they've got tons of history about wizards and witches-"

"-and he /has/ to go to Belgium because of the chocolate-" Ron interrupted as if his best friend hadn't mentioned education.

"-or he could go to Spain. Spain has lots of history-"

"-and Italy for the ice cream-"

Harry's laughter finally ended the ranting of his two best friends. "Apparently you've all decided I'm going to do a grand tour of Europe once I graduate, for the history /and/ the sweets."

"Don't forget the Netherlands!" Neville added, smiling a tad mischievously.

The brunet grinned and looked mock-solemn. "I swear that I will not forget the Netherlands, Neville."

"So you're actually gonna do it?" Ron declared, a hint of surprise tingeing his words.

"Why not? Travel around Europe for a year, get some life experiences, it sounds like a plan to me."

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

Hermione smiled when she saw that Harry's eyes were lit with an actual excitement for the future. When had the Potter lived for tomorrow and not just for today? On the Hogwarts Express, it was easy enough to forget that Voldemort was roaming the world and killing randomly. How Fudge was still the Minister, she'd never know.

"You'll have to send me letters when you go to Spain, France, and especially Wales and Ireland. Those two lands are filled with ancient magic," she declared, earning a grin from her best friend. "I could use some of that information for my first year at teaching."

"Bloody hell, 'Mione!" Ron groaned, and the Head Girl frowned in his direction. "I pity Ginny and the rest of your future students!" His tone was filled with obvious sympathy for the imminent learners, and the brunette's frown deepened.

"Ronald Weasley, I-"

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

As his two best friends began to argue fiercely, Harry bit back a sigh and cast an understanding glance in Ginny and Neville's direction. Both of them were wincing as Hermione's voice rose to a shout.

"So, Neville, do you think you'll be a Herbology teacher at Hogwarts someday?" The Boy Who Lived watched the deep flush that spread across the other boy's face at the question.

"M-Me? A t-teacher?" The lilting way that Neville spoke had become a fumble for words, and Harry mentally kicked himself as he gazed into the boy's widened eyes.

"You'd be a good teacher, Neville. You're understanding and patient. Not at all like Snape." Ginny's tone was gentle, and the brunet wondered what Ron's sister was thinking as she smiled at the still-blushing Longbottom.

"I-I don't think-" Neville faltered, his flush deepening so that his golden flesh was now a pale rose hue.

"You could always travel around and get some world experiences like I'm going to," Harry suggested. "That would help prepare you for teaching. Plus, you'd have Hermione around."

The brunet couldn't help but feel slightly pleased with himself as Neville's eyes lit up with excitement. "I could go to Russia during the fall. I know there's a special type of plant there that-"

Shaking his head a little, Harry was nonetheless more than willing to listen as the suddenly confident Longbottom rambled about the various plants in Russia and what sort of antidotes a wizard could make out of those plants. After all, he wasn't any worse than Hermione. In fact, Neville was so energetic about what he was speaking of that Harry and Ginny actually grew interested, and their conversation lasted until the end of the journey.

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

Ron glanced up at the train began to slow, his cerulean gaze betraying his confusion. Had he really been arguing with Hermione for that long? Blinking, the redhead twisted in his seat and noticed that the red curtain was still up, shielding Malfoy from view.

The bloody git had better be ready when that screen came down because-

"Ron!" Distracted from his dark thoughts, he turned towards Hermione, who was rolling her hazel eyes in exasperation. "We're almost to Hogwarts. Do you have your things ready?"

Locks of cerise fell in front of the Weasley's freckled visage as he scowled. "Of course, 'Mione. I'm not stupid." He kicked his trunk for emphasis, earning a frown from the brunette.

"I was just /asking/!"

The defensive tone made Ron's blood boil, and the redhead had to clench his teeth to keep from saying something he'd regret later. Why was Hermione bothering him when all he wanted to do was kick Malfoy's a-

"Um, the train stopped." Neville's hesitant statement distracted both of the Gryffindor, and Ron was able to concentrate on something other than getting revenge on Malfoy now that Crabbe and Goyle weren't around to defend him. That is, until the Longbottom voiced, "Should someone tell Malfoy?"

"No," Ron snapped, shaking his head so violently that he grew dizzy for a moment. "He'll figure it out on his own."

Sure enough, the curtain began to disintegrate as they spoke. Ron had opened his mouth to begin a tirade against the git, but froze at the sight of his enemy.

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

Draco had felt the train slow and then stop. After muttering the spell that would make the curtain disappear, the blonde had risen to his feet in a quick bound.

His broken rib reminded him that the action was /not/ a good idea, and he doubled over. A pained sound rasped its way from his throat as the agony knifed him through. Gray was hidden from the world as his eyes squeezed tightly shut in a futile motion.

Perspiration broke out on his forehead as the Slytherin bit his lower lip and attempted to straighten. This time the gesture was cautious and gradual, and only a dull soreness assaulted him.

Raising a hand to his forehead and realizing that he was trembling, it was only then that Draco noticed that the Gryffindor gaggle was gawking at him. A familiar, contemptuous sneer flitted onto his face, and he snarled, still breathless, "What're you all looking at?"

"Just a Slytherin," snapped the older Weasley, his smoldering blue eyes focused on him, though there was an odd emotion in the Gryffindor's eyes that made Draco uneasy. The emotion /couldn't/ be compassion.

"If you don't like what you see, Weasel, get off the train." Lifting his head in defiance of the numerous Gryffindor, the blonde grabbed his small trunk and attempted to drag it behind him.

Even using the arm on his good side was a horrible idea, and Draco hissed. Another startled noise of distress forced its way through his clenched teeth before dark spots appeared in his vision. Damn-

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

Harry and the other Gryffindor watched as Malfoy's porcelain visage contorted and became an ashen hue before he swayed on his feet. Any trace of arrogance had vanished as his knees began to tremble underneath him.

For a moment, the Slytherin almost seemed like a rag doll that was failing wildly. His hand released the trunk he had been attempting to drag before his gray eyes rolled up towards his skull. As a final sound of annoyance escaped his lips, Malfoy crumpled towards the ground, unconscious.

He would have struck his head upon the floor had Hermione not whipped out her wand and shouted an incantation that left the Malfoy floating face-down in the middle of compartment.

"Well, damn." The mumbled words made Harry glance at Ron, whose eyes were locked on the hovering figure. There was an odd expression on the Weasley's face, as if he was having an inward struggle over something.

"I guess I'll grab his trunk and we'll take him to Madam Pomfrey?" Ginny suggested hesitantly, her eyes flickering around at the assorted Gryffindor.

"Well, someone else is going to have to keep this spell on him because I have to get to the Sorting." Hermione paused, and then added as if she wasn't quite sure whether or not to laugh, "Of course, so does he."

Harry shook his head and mumbled the same spell Hermione had, making the prone form rise slightly before the Head Girl released her spell. His eyes watched Malfoy's visage for any sign of the Slytherin waking up, but the blonde seemed to be out cold.

"Well," Ginny declared at last, "we'd better hurry if you all want to see your final Sorting."

- TBC -