Rating: R

Warnings: If you're under 15 years old, you shouldn't be here unless you've got an amazing level of maturity. The chapter contains: slash, het, coarse language. If you can't handle all of that, get out now. I don't want to be responsible for lasting emotional or psychological damage; that's Voldemort's job.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and The Story So Far are property of J. K. Rowling and Warner Brothers, and I have no intent of contesting that right, especially since both have done extremely well in creating and maintaining the spirit of said characters and story. In case either one happens upon this story one day: congratulations and please don't sue me! I mean no harm.

Pleas: Reviews would be nice; flames are also welcome. I will make a spirited attempt to reply to every single one, but I can't guarantee it. Flamers be warned: I will be very logical, pedantic and probably curious in my response. It can be a nuisance, but you'll have to learn to live with it.

Thanks To: Luca, The Shinigumi (I'm amazed I managed to move you so much. I'm glad you liked the imps, I had a lot of fun with those. Wait till you see what I do with *them*. Heheheh... I know Pansy's annoying, but she'll be dealt with, promise.), chasati, Penelope-Z, Saheen, Angel, Slytherin Godess (Thank you so much. I'm sorry I couldn't find your e-mail address), Britt, VoodooDaisuke, WildfireFriendship, Phyrbyrd, Myr, Juliana Black, Twilights Death, S. Maldiva, Sarah-chan, Azzie (I know. You get the feeling I hate Lucius?), brooke`, X (Many thanks!), tired_faith, Kcarke (I wouldn't be having this much fun if I'd let them fall too far out of character ^_^. Thank you, I liked the drinking scene as well. I never really thought of Draco's suicide as chilling, oddly enough.), Kimagure, vmr, ruka-chan, and Megumi.

All Torn Down: Release

Cool breeze and autumn leaves;

Slow motion daylight.

A lone pair of watchful eyes

Oversee the living:

Feel the presence all around;

A tortured soul,

A wound unhealing.

No regrets or promises;

The past is gone,

But you can still be free...

If time will set you free.

--From You Can Still Be Free, Savage Garden.

The first thing Draco became aware of was warmth. He couldn't remember feeling so warm before, but he wasn't hot. He felt safe. Then he realised he had a tangible shape; one that could touch other things. He was touching something now. It was soft. It seemed to be the source of the warmth.

Draco opened one eye. It took a moment for him to focus and realise he was in the Hospital Wing, in a bed covered by blankets. His eye swivelled about, and eventually came to rest on the old man watching from the end of the bed.

'Draco,' Albus Dumbledore murmured. 'At last you're awake.'

Draco struggled to sit up, but fell back, gasping as the room whirled around him.

'Careful,' Dumbledore said gently. 'You haven't eaten or drunk for some time.'

There was a tired sigh from the other side of the bed and some of the light in the room dimmed. Draco looked over. Fletcher, sitting in a chair by his side, appeared to have fallen into a deep sleep.

'How long have I been here?' he croaked.

'You've been unconscious for almost three weeks.'

'Who...?'

Dumbledore seemed to understand what he was trying to say. 'Harry Potter and Professor Snape saved you.'

Draco closed his eyes. An image of Harry's face, eyes blazing, flashed into his mind, and he knew he should hate him, hate him, hate him for the pain of his rejection, so soon after that brief brush with Heaven. But he couldn't find the fire in him. Perhaps he was just too tired. Or perhaps he really had fallen in love. He couldn't be sure. Potter seemed very far away at the moment.

And Snape...

Draco shot up, ignoring the blur of the room around him. He brought his hand up to stare at the Dark Mark on his wrist. He'd hacked away desperately at the image; tried to tear it out of him, but there was still a tattered remnant of the tattoo between the scars.

'Dumbledore,' he said urgently. 'Don't trust Snape. He's a Death Eater. He's like me, he's filth—'

'Snape is a spy working for me,' Dumbledore said quietly. 'There is no need for you to be afraid of him.'

'A...a spy?' Draco lay back down in shock. 'He can't be,' he whispered. 'He can't be, it's not true, he must be a Death Eater, he must be. Otherwise he would have—' Draco could feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes. 'He would have stopped them. Helped me. Why didn't he help me?'

Dumbledore stepped forward and moved to place a hand on the boy's head, but Draco shied away. 'Don't touch me.'

'Severus wanted to help you, Draco. Make no mistake about that. But if he had done something it would have alerted Voldemort to the fact that both you and he were not completely loyal. It was too dangerous. In truth, he did nothing because none of us knew the...extent to which you had been harmed. If you had come to him here at school, something may have been arranged.'

'But I didn't trust him.'

'Professor?' Madame Pomfrey appeared on the edges of Draco's vision, looking extremely weary. She looked down at Draco. 'Awake! Thank goodness...' She turned back to Dumbledore. 'I'll get the house elves to send some food and water up quickly. He should probably be left alone for now,' she said with a pointedly raised eyebrow.

'I'll see that no one disturbs him,' Dumbledore replied. Pomfrey pursed her lips disapprovingly but left without commenting.

'He told you, didn't he?' Draco said when she was gone. 'You know about everything.'

'Yes, I do.'

'Even the...the kiss?'

'He told me about that, yes.'

'He promised he wouldn't tell anyone.' Draco somehow couldn't muster the bitterness that the sentence demanded. 'I...sort of knew he would. Harry will keep any promise, any secret, from everyone but a few people. Just a few who he has to tell. Hermione, Ron...you...'

'I had noticed that about him.'

'Does anyone else know?'

'Severus does. But no one else. And no one else will know unless you tell them.'

'Thank you. Have you been here every day?'

'Yes.'

'Has he?'

'Yes, he has.'

'Snape?'

'Whenever he could. I must go now, Draco. You should rest when you've eaten. I'll be back later. There's something I want you to look at, and other things I need to ask you.'

Draco nodded. Dumbledore turned away, but paused in the doorway.

'Don't regret that you have lived, Draco.'

A few minutes after the Headmaster had gone, a house elf entered with a laden tray. It stood by the bed, waiting patiently until Draco had finished eating, and left without a word. Draco lay back and looked at Fletcher snoring peacefully beside him. He thought about Harry, and Snape, and what Dumbledore wanted with him. His mind drifted to another time and place in which he had gone without food and water, and remembered how much more awful that had been. Then he slept.

~~~*~~~

When Draco woke, Fletcher's form by the bed had been replaced by that of Dumbledore. He sat up.

'What did you want me to see?'

The old man passed him the torn letter silently. Draco blanched. 'No,' he breathed. 'Please no...'

'It's been charmed. No one else can understand the true message, Draco. I'm sorry, but we need to know what it says.'

Draco drew the two pieces of the letter together with shaking hands. The words glinted at him, making him think of sharp blades. 'Oh Gods...'

'Calm down,' Dumbledore said gently. 'What does it say?'

Draco licked his lips and began to read:

'Draco,

Voldemort wants a report as soon as possible. What have you been doing? No one has heard hide nor hair from you since I left you at the Station, but the Dark Lord has been getting some very strange reports about you from other students. Remember, if you bungle this, I won't be there to save you any more. You're a man now.'

Draco paused, shuddering. 'Save me,' he muttered. 'When has he ever done that?'

'In addition to your other charges, keep a close eye on Snape. Voldemort is growing suspicious. The man is the closest informant to Dumbledore we have, but his messages are few and far between. If it continues much longer, he will be declared traitor, and duly punished.'

Draco broke off again. 'He was probably knocking on wood when he wrote that.'

'Draco,' Dumbledore said pointedly, and he continued.

'See that you are free to get out of Hogwarts at midnight on Sunday a month and a half from now. There will be a gathering outside of Hogsmeade. You must be there.

May the Dark Lord's final ascendance be great.

Be a man. Be a Malfoy.

Lucius.'

The paper crumpled as Draco's hands balled into fists. He could feel the tears threatening to spill again. 'Bastard,' he muttered. 'Utter, utter bastard. I hate him!'

'I cannot fault you there,' Dumbledore said wryly. 'Although I can't say I appreciate your use of the language.'

'I'm not Harry, Dumbledore,' Draco said. 'I'm not nice. I'm a bloody Malfoy!'

'Be still,' Dumbledore told him. 'What did he mean by your 'other charges'?'

'I'm supposed to watch you and Harry. If you're planning anything against Voldemort, I'm to report it and stop it if I can.'

'I see.' Dumbledore was silent for a moment. 'You aren't the only student here who has been...recruited, are you?'

Draco shook his head. 'There are a lot more. Mainly the children of Death Eaters, but there are others as well. Some were put under Imperius. Others...well, I think they're mainly interested in the thrill, the danger of it all. They don't really understand. A few think they have some kind of vendetta against Potter.'

'Do they all have similar missions to yours?'

'No. Some are trying to convince other students to join Voldemort. A few are watching the rest of us to see that no one betrays him.'

'Ah. So he's infiltrating Hogwarts first this time...' Dumbledore sighed dejectedly. 'Draco, I have one more question. It's an important one, and I need your answer straight away.'

'Professor?'

'Will you join us?'

Draco was stunned. 'I...sorry?'

'I'm asking you to become a spy, Draco. Think about it carefully, but quickly. Severus won't be able to operate on his own for much longer. It will be dangerous. You will be working against many of your fellow students; people you have known for years. But you will also be working against Voldemort.'

'And if I say no?'

Dumbledore sighed again. 'If you decide not, then I will wipe your memory of the past day, and you will continue your life as you see fit.'

'That's all?' Draco said sharply. 'Dumbledore, I'm a known Death Eater. I've cast Cruciatus, I've made people writhe in pain, I've watched others do it and done nothing! And you're willing to let me go free? Moody told us last year that casting an Unforgivable Curse on another human being, even once, could lead to a life sentence in Azkaban! Don't I deserve some kind of punishment?'

Dumbledore gazed pointedly at the scars on Draco's wrists and throat. 'I rather think that you have endured enough pain.'

'Would you be so lenient with all Death Eaters?' Draco asked him softly. 'Or are you just acting out of pity?'

'This is not leniency. It is a choice. It is, and must be, your choice. And you must make it now.'

Draco stared into the old man's clear blue eyes for only a few seconds before he said, quite clearly; 'I'll do it. I'll spy for you.'

Dumbledore relaxed. 'Thank you, Draco.' He stood. 'Poppy is insisting that you remain here for a few days longer.'

Draco lay back. 'I'm not complaining.'

The Headmaster's beard twitched and his eyes twinkled briefly in sympathy. 'We will speak later.'

He left quietly.

~~~*~~~

The next few days went by far too quickly for Draco's liking. He was surprised at the number of visitors he had. Almost every time he woke from slumber, there was someone by him. Draco took to opening his eyes only slightly when he woke and looking out through his lashes to see who was there, before waking completely.

Often it was Dumbledore, and they would talk about Voldemort; about his plans and how they could be thwarted. Together they composed a report for Voldemort, telling him of Dumbledore's 'schemes'. The Headmaster seemed uncannily adept at lying; some of the more vague details were true and served to give the rest credibility. Dumbledore never spoke of Harry unless it was necessary, and he never asked about the kiss. For that, Draco was grateful.

Once or twice he had seen Pansy Parkinson, pale-faced between Crabbe and Goyle by his bedside. He remembered guiltily how he had reacted to her touch, and how she must have felt about his near-death. Whenever he saw her nearby, Draco closed his eyes and feigned slumber until she was gone. He couldn't face her, not now. Not yet. And certainly not with Crabbe and Goyle around.

Another visitor Draco avoided at all costs was Harry. He was frequently by the bedside, sometimes flanked by Ron and Hermione, sometimes not. Like Pansy, he was usually very pale and withdrawn. Occasionally, while Draco pretended to sleep, he heard Harry whispering something to him. It sounded like comfort.

Just once, Draco saw Ron there by himself. He was so shocked he didn't close his eyes, but remained staring through his lashes at the boy. Ron didn't offer him comfort, but merely stared, confusion dulling the old hatred in his eyes.

And then there was Snape. With the exception of Dumbledore, he was Draco's most frequent visitor. He had changed. Where once there had been the typical Slytherin's smug self-assurance, Draco now saw uncertainty and occasionally something akin to self-loathing.

When Draco first saw him there, he was surprised into wakefulness. He propped himself up on his elbows warily. 'Professor.'

'Draco.' A half-smile traced its way across the man's mouth, quickly gone. 'It's good to finally see you awake.'

'Did Dumbledore send you here?'

'No. He prefers someone to be near you, but I come of my own accord,' Snape said. 'He did tell me why you didn't speak to me before this happened. I'm sorry you felt that way.'

'I suppose you were driven mad with worry,' Draco said sarcastically.

'Close to,' Snape replied. Draco looked away from him.

'I didn't want to talk then. No more do I now.'

There was a pause. Then he heard Snape mutter, 'Understood.'

Silence reigned for a long while, but Snape didn't leave, even when Draco laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. Finally he said, 'I can understand that you might not want to speak to me, Draco, but there are things I need to tell you. We're very much alike, you and I.'

Draco scrunched his eyelids together. I don't want to hear this.

'We're both Slytherins, have both been Death Eaters. I am a spy and soon you will be too. I have endured almost everything that you have had to endure because of Voldemort. Believe it or not, talking can help. Look at what silence has got you, Draco. If it's other people finding out that scares you, don't worry. I've been keeping secrets all my life; I should have the hang of it by now. But if there's anything you're troubled about again, for God's sake let someone know.' Snape paused for breath. He'd been speaking quietly, probably to make certain that Madame Pomfrey couldn't hear them, but with an intensity that Draco had rarely connected with him. 'And then there is the other thing.'

Nice of him to put it so tactfully, Draco thought wryly, knowing full well what Snape was talking about.

'I can't say that I know personally what it's like, and I certainly don't agree with your feelings for Potter. But if you ever decide that you need help, I would probably be more use than any other teacher in this school. Keep that in mind.'

Draco's eyes snapped open. 'You would, would you?' he growled. 'What the hell makes you think you'd understand anything about how I feel?'

Snape stared at him a moment with an unreadable expression on his face. He began, haltingly at first, to tell Draco about David Harlow and Morgan Peters. As Snape spoke, Draco slowly sat up. There was a long silence when he finished, but Draco wasn't angry any more.

'You're looking for forgiveness, aren't you?' he said quietly.

'Forgiveness?' A bitter laugh. 'That's a very Potter-like concept, Draco. I'm surprised he didn't come up with it when I told him.'

'You told Harry that?'

'He got me drunk. Well, I got me drunk, but he asked the questions.'

'What was his reaction?'

Snape sighed. 'I think he'll be able to look me in the eye again in a few years. No, I'm not after forgiveness. There are only three people I might seek it from, and two are dead. The other, Dumbledore, has already accepted me. I just thought you should know, considering we'll be working together.' He pulled a pocket watch from his robes and glanced at it. 'And now I have a class to teach.' Snape stood.

'Sir,' Draco said suddenly. 'Will you be here tomorrow?'

'If I can.'

Draco nodded. 'You still won't be able to make me talk, though.'

A brief smile tugged at the corner of Snape's mouth as he turned away. He paused in the doorway, reminding Draco of Dumbledore as he looked back. 'There is a Potions exam in a few weeks. When Pomfrey lets you go back to your classes, I suggest you study hard unless you want to fail your O.W.L.s.'

Draco almost laughed at the absurdity of the remark in comparison to what they had been speaking about.

Two days later he was released from the Hospital Wing.

~~~*~~~

For the next few weeks Draco felt as though he was living in a glass house. Everyone watched him and everyone was extremely polite, as though he might shatter if they said the wrong thing.

Most of the Slytherins, including Crabbe and Goyle, avoided him strenuously. But he could feel their eyes on him as he walked down the halls; and he heard them whispering when they thought he was out of earshot. Once or twice he caught Pansy looking at him pensively. She would open her mouth to say something, then decide against it and turn away.

The Dream Team, too, kept clear. He hated the confusion he saw in Weasley's eyes, and the pity in Granger's. But worst was the way Potter refused to look at him at all.

The teachers watched Draco closely--they had probably been instructed to do so by Dumbledore. But they didn't set too many limits on him. Draco had the feeling most of them were scared they might push him over the edge again.

The situation did have its benefits, though. During Quidditch practice, he was left to his own devices. That suited Draco fine. Without the interference of the other players Draco could concentrate on catching the Snitch. They had their next match in two weeks, against the Ravenclaws—they wouldn't lose again.

Also, if Draco failed to come to a class, none of his teachers dared question him—with the exception of Snape, but even he didn't push things too far, and Draco managed to evade most of his queries.

And so Draco took to wandering the castle's labyrinthine passages at will. He realised that considering how many years he'd spent at Hogwarts, his actual knowledge of its layout was quite limited. He spent hours exploring and getting himself lost. Within the course of a week Draco had discovered ten rooms, five passages, and a hidden stairway which he doubted had been visited by anyone in a good few years. They were probably out of bounds. He decided he didn't really care.

This wasn't to say he abandoned his school work. Draco followed Snape's advice and studied extensively. But he did it at his own pace and in a place of his choosing; which generally wasn't the subject's designated classroom. If he needed equipment, he could usually persuade the teachers to lend him the room for a lunch hour. He caught up the work he'd missed quickly, and according to rumour he began to vie with Granger for top marks in some subjects. Draco thought that was highly doubtful, but he was mildly pleased as well. Even his Magical Healing mark was picking up.

That didn't save him from the Reiki examination. Draco was given a week and a hectic study schedule to catch up before he was tested. They had Care of Magical Creatures beforehand. Draco made the mistake of turning up.

His imp was one of the few entities in the school that didn't bother to walk on eggshells around him. In fact, being its wicked little self, it practically ground the shells into the ground.

'Sodoffyacreepylittlemaggot!Yamother'sagrindylow--'

'No she isn't. Don't talk about my mother like that,' Draco muttered, trying to keep the struggling imp's head from flailing long enough to deposit a drop of Sleeping Potion in its mouth. Apparently they only slept once a year, and then they needed urging. Draco couldn't say he was surprised.

'...keepthatthingawayfrommeorI'llbloodytearyaapart!...'

'Yeh're still bein' too harsh with it, Malfoy,' Hagrid strode over to loosen Draco's hold on the monster. 'Yeh've got to be gentle, see?'

Draco glared at him balefully. 'I've tried being gentle. It usually results in grievous bodily harm.'

'It wouldn't if yeh took the time ter get it ter trust yeh,' Hagrid said. There was a sudden commotion behind him. Weasley had been smuggling something sweet to his much tamer imp and in a bout of jabbering, sugar-induced hyperactivity, it shot out of his hand. Hagrid got out of the way in time, but Draco wasn't so lucky.

The entire class went silent as Draco pulled the green ball of insanity from his face. Ron took an uncertain step forward. Draco sneered.

'I know it's difficult for your tiny mind to keep a grasp on anything, Weasel, but you could at least try to look as though you can control this thing.'

There was an almost grateful look in Ron's eyes as he retorted. 'Shut up and hand it over, Ferret. At least mine hasn't got a mouth from the sewer.'

Draco glanced down at the black imp in his fist. It was glaring daggers at Ron's, and swearing profusely in an even higher pitch than normal. Without warning, it bit down, hard, on Draco's hand. He gave a pained yelp, automatically releasing the little devils. His imp immediately rushed at Ron's and they became a blur of black-and-green motion rocketing across the lawn. Hagrid swore.

'This is why we pick this time o' year to give 'em the Potions,' he said. 'Damn hormones.' He raised his voice to alert the rest of the class. 'Everyone, spread out! Keep a tight hold on yer imps 'cos if they get away there'll be no stoppin' the fight! Close in around 'em now, don't let 'em get by you...'

The class surrounded the brawling imps and cautiously closed in on them. The velocity of the blurs increased as the space around them grew smaller.

'Careful!' Hagrid barked as a couple of students were nearly hit. 'Keep yer hands in front, don't let 'em bowl yeh over...'

Draco saw Harry hand his imp to Granger, and watched as a familiar, determined looked seeped into the green eyes. Draco had seen the same expression on his face during Quidditch.

Oh no...

Potter's eyes followed the rapid movement of the imps for a few seconds before he leaped. Draco stiffened automatically as he watched his hands close around them. Harry was dragged several feet before the imps ricocheted into his face, propelling him backwards.

'Harry!' Hagrid yelled, striding into the middle of the circle. For a tense moment Harry writhed with the imps on the ground. Draco heard several thuds as they smacked into him. Then Potter sat up, the black imp in one hand and the green one in the other. All three looked decidedly the worse for wear.

Hagrid took the imps and Harry stood up slowly, brushing himself off. 'Are yeh all right, Harry?' Hagrid asked him. 'Do yeh need to go to the Infirmary?'

Harry shook his head. 'I'm fine, thanks Hagrid.'

'I think I'll do these two meself,' Hagrid muttered. The Gryffindors closed in around Harry.

Draco let out an explosive breath and turned away. Pansy was a few feet away, looking at him strangely. Their gazes met for only a brief second before she looked away.

Behind him, Draco heard Harry trying to reassure his friends: 'Really, I'm okay!...'

By the end of the lesson, a nice set of purplish bruises had begun to show on Potter's face.

When Professor Fletcher saw Harry's injuries his eyes lit up. He immediately requested Draco attempt to heal him as the practical part of the test.

'You may begin whenever you're ready, Mr Malfoy.'

There was a very awkward pause as Fletcher waited expectantly. The rest of the class had been assigned work from their books and the three of them were standing at the back of the classroom, so no one was watching. Yet Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. It was unnerving, being so close to Harry. His glasses lay on a desk beside him, and his maddening eyes watched Draco's hands warily they rose to make the signs required. Draco felt Potter flinch as he placed his hands over the bruises.

Draco drew a quick breath, trying to push the memory of the kiss from his mind. He felt a crippling urge to caress Harry's face, to pull those lips once again to his. He closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate on what he had to do now. After a moment he felt the tingling warmth in his hands that meant it was working. He stayed there for a second longer than was strictly necessary, feeling Potter begin to relax. Then he dropped his hands to his sides and opened his eyes. The bruises were almost gone.

'Very nicely done, Malfoy,' Fletcher complimented him, making notes in his mark book. Harry raised a hand to his face, prodding tentatively to see whether the pain would come.

'Thank you.'

Draco nodded silently.

'Thank you, Mr Potter,' Fletcher murmured. 'You may return to your bookwork. Mr Malfoy, you may proceed with the theoretical section of the exam.'

The theory, once Draco had forced himself to read the book chapter several times with a dictionary, had been easy to understand. He was done quickly and spent the final ten minutes of the lesson staring into space. When the class was dismissed, he didn't move, not noticing the empty room around him until he felt a tap on the shoulder.

Draco turned in his seat. Behind him was Weasley, a look of thunder on his face. 'Yes, Weasel?'

Ron moved in front of him. 'You leave Harry alone.'

Draco eyed him coolly. 'What do you mean?'

'You know bloody well what I mean! I saw you, I saw the look on your face when you were doing the exam.'

'It isn't that uncommon to be nervous during a test, Muggle-lover.'

Ron growled. 'You were blushing, you—you damn queer! I'm warning you, keep your filthy hands off him!'

Draco looked down at his hands. 'They're not that dirty,' he murmured.

Ron pulled him up by the collar of his robes. 'Listen to me. Very. Carefully. If you so much as lay a finger on Harry again, you won't need to smash another crucible, because I will kill you myself. Do you understand?' Ron was an inch from Draco's face, his eyes burning.

'All too well.'

There was a small gasp at the door, and they both froze. After an icy second, Ron released Draco and turned around. Professor McGonagall was at the door. She stared from one to the other of them in a moment of shock before recovering and striding into the room.

'Mr Weasley, that's twenty points from Gryffindor and two detentions,' she said tersely. 'How dare you threaten another student like that!' She turned to Draco, looking him up and down with a revulsion that she couldn't quite disguise. 'Mr Malfoy—' she stumbled briefly for words. 'Mr Malfoy, I suggest you go to Professor Snape's office right now.'

Draco nodded, but didn't leave immediately. He fixed her with a penetrating stare. 'Don't tell anyone what you've heard here.' It wasn't a threat, but by no means was it a request either. McGonagall bridled.

'I am not some foolish gossip, Malfoy,' she snapped.

Draco shrugged, glancing at Ron. 'This is my business. No one else's.'

With that, Draco walked out. He didn't go to Snape's office; walking instead until he had found some long-forgotten corner of the castle. He ground his teeth together in frustration and slammed his fists into the wall, taking odd comfort in the pain. He laid his forehead against the wall, breathing quickly, letting the coolness of the stones seep into him and numb his mind.

He lifted his head a long while later, knowing he would have to tell Snape. If nothing else, he could keep an eye on McGonagall. He looked down the passage and tried to remember the way.

Half an hour later, Draco located the Potions corridor. He knocked on the door to Snape's office.

'Enter if it's important,' the Potions Master called. 'Otherwise, go away.'

Draco opened the door. Snape looked up from a pile of first-year examination papers he was marking and, seeing the look on Draco's face, put his quill down.

'What's happened?'

'McGonagall knows.'

'About what? About everything?' Snape stood up.

Draco shook his head. 'Only about my...persuasion.' He passed a hand wearily over his eyes. 'She said she wouldn't breathe a word, but...'

'Draco,' Snape said quietly, 'I've known Minerva McGonagall for years. If she says she won't speak, she won't. She wasn't made Head of Gryffindor for nothing.'

'Nevertheless.'

Snape nodded, understanding. 'I'll speak to her.'

'Thank you.' There was a pregnant pause.

'Was there something else, Draco?'

Draco felt himself flush under Snape's penetrating gaze. 'I...the Healing examination. Potter was hurt during Care of Magical Creatures, and Fletcher had me heal him.' He spoke quietly, almost to himself. 'I couldn't help...and then Weasley saw...'

'You're not making a lot of sense, Draco.'

Draco staggered backwards until he met the wall, and slid to the floor. He didn't want to look at his Professor, he was shaking slightly. He fought to keep himself under control. 'What the hell is wrong with me?' he whispered. 'I can't stand to be near women; there's only one person in the world I want and he hates me! And even if he didn't, his best friend would kill me if...'

Draco heard the sound of a draw sliding open, and a soft chink. Suddenly Snape was kneeling beside him, unstoppering a small bottle filled with a deep brown fluid. 'Calm down. Drink this.'

Draco stared dully at the bottle. 'It's illegal to supply students with alcohol, sir.'

'Then I'm already facing a sentence for encouraging Potter. This isn't liquor; it's a potion. It will help you stay calm.'

Draco, still shaking, grasped the neck of the bottle. He gulped at the liquid, feeling an instantaneous warmth spread inside him. 'Thank you,' he said, handing the bottle back to Snape.

'You're going to have to get used to working around Potter.'

'I don't think I can. I think I'm going to have to get used to avoiding him.'

'That won't work and you know it. If you're going to spy, you'll need to be able to lie and to act completely opposite to the way you feel. I know you can do it. Treat Potter the way a spy would treat him.'

Draco nodded. 'I will. I'll try.'

'Good.' Snape helped him up. 'By the way, I was wondering whether or not you intended on gracing my class with your presence today.'

Draco stared at him. 'No,' he said. 'I don't think so.'

'In that case, we're studying potion transformations. Polyjuice Potion in particular, pages 103 to 113.'

Draco nodded. 'I've been through that section already.'

'Then I want you to begin making a Polyjuice Potion. In the meantime, move into advanced reactions, pages 155 to 160. And Dumbledore wanted me to tell you that there will be a meeting in his office later tonight. It's important.'

'Where is his office?'

'Meet me after classes are done with. I'll show you.'

'Yes, sir.'

Pansy was walking down the corridor when Draco emerged from Snape's office. She stopped in front of him, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. Her usually hard face was uncertain. 'Draco.'

'Hello, Pansy.' He made to move past her, but she blocked his way.

'Draco, I—we need to talk.' She clutched her Potions workbook nervously. Draco waited expectantly. 'I—well—' She fumbled for words. He seemed to be having that effect on people lately. Finally she burst out, 'Why did you do it, Draco? God, why did you even try?'

Draco gazed at Pansy appraisingly. Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere in sight, and she deserved an explanation. But how much could he tell her, without it being dangerous?

'Come with me.' Draco opened the Potions room door and gestured Pansy inside. He leaned on a desk, folding his arms and regarding her intensely. There was a short silence before he spoke.

'I'm not going to stay long and I won't say much. But you should know that it wasn't your fault. Nothing you did.'

'But when I touched you—'

'I know.' Draco dropped his gaze. 'I'm sorry.'

'I don't understand, Draco,' Pansy said in a very small voice.

'You don't need to, really. Just know that joining with the Dark Lord wasn't the only thing that happened to me during the holidays. They were...very eventful.'

There was a short silence. When Pansy recovered her voice, the pity it held made him want to throw up.

'Oh, Draco...'

He had to shift sideways quickly to evade her reaching hand. Draco looked up at her, a small, rueful smile playing on his lips.

'Sorry. It's not your fault. But I did mean what I said.'

'What—'

Draco shook his head quickly. 'I'm not saying any more,' he said, and shuffled out.

~~~*~~~

Hours later, he met with Snape outside the Professor's office. The Potions Master nodded at him briskly and set off, leading Draco through the castle. They passed through several of the passages Draco had found, and he felt slightly deflated in realising that they weren't so secret as he had imagined. They stopped in front of a large gargoyle sculpted against the wall.

'Fizzing Whizzbee,' Snape said. The gargoyle twisted and leapt sprightly to the side, leaving a gap between the walls where it had stood. Draco followed him through the gap and up the spiralling stairway beyond. Snape paused again to knock on the door at the top of the flight. It was opened and they entered Dumbledore's office.

The circular room was quite crowded. Dumbledore sat at his desk. Grouped around the room were most of the staff, and a few people Draco didn't recognise, most of them murmuring quietly to each other. Snape crossed the room to stand by McGonagall, and muttered something to her. In a few seconds they had progressed into a heated, hushed discussion.

Harry was there, as were Ron and Hermione—Ron had turned to glare savagely at him as he entered, only to have his attention drawn back to Granger a moment later. Draco recognised Remus Lupin standing close to the trio. He slipped further into the crowd, wondering what the werewolf was doing here. Mad-Eye Moody—presumably the real one—hovered near Dumbledore. In front of the desk lay a large black dog, which growled slightly as he and Snape entered. Snape cast the dog a baleful glance as it got up and crossed the room to sit in front of Potter.

Seeing them, the Headmaster rose from his chair, and the room grew silent as attention gradually transferred to him. Albus Dumbledore spoke:

'Welcome, everyone. Before we begin, I would like to introduce several newcomers to our group.' Dumbledore's eyes flicked to Harry, Ron and Hermione. The other occupants of the room followed his gaze. 'I am certain that you all know of Harry here. With him are his close friends Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley who—' Dumbledore smiled; '—rather insisted that they be here as well. Also recently joined with us is Draco Malfoy.'

Draco felt attention turn to him and he took an involuntary step backward. Most people were looking at him interestedly; others with mild mistrust. Some stared at him in blatant suspicion. Draco noticed that the black dog's hackles rose when Dumbledore spoke his name.

'Everyone here is, I know, familiar with the Malfoys' history. I am therefore sure that you will be gratified to learn that Draco has decided to break with his past.' Dumbledore emphasised that last phrase and the tension in the room relaxed slightly. Draco saw the Headmaster wink at him and he began to feel a little more certain of himself.

'Finally, I am elated to welcome back a very loyal friend.' Dumbledore nodded at the dog. Its tail wagged briefly before it changed, taking human form.

Draco let out a startled cry of recognition at the sight of the man's face; he'd seen it hundreds of times on Wanted posters during his third year at Hogwarts. He raised his wand, pointing it at the gaunt face of Sirius Black. 'Stupe—'

'Expelliarmus!' Snape's voice cracked sharply over Draco's and his wand shot out of his hand, falling uselessly to the floor.

Draco took a panicked step backwards, his eyes skirting about the room and coming to settle on Dumbledore.

'Draco,' the old man began gently, but he cut across his voice.

'What the hell are you playing at here?' Draco stammered. He looked about the room again. 'Murderers, werewolves...Death Eaters...' His eye fell upon Mad-Eye Moody. '...madmen...'

'If you would kindly calm down, Draco, I could explain.' There was an uncharacteristic edge to Dumbledore's voice.

'I don't want to hear!' Draco snapped. He turned on his heel and, throwing the oak door open, ran from the room.

Draco was pacing, agitated, up and down the corridor when Snape burst past the gargoyle after him.

'What was that?' his teacher snapped. 'You never even gave him a chance to explain!'

'What is there to explain? He's got a bunch of lunatics—and worse—working for him!'

'Dumbledore trusts them, Draco, the same way he trusts us. Can't that be enough for you?'

'No, it can't! I still don't know why he trusts me; I wouldn't. Lupin is a werewolf—' Draco shuddered convulsively.

'—Who drinks a potion every month to ensure he's harmless when he transforms!'

'And Black—he's a gods-damned murderer, Snape! My father used to speak of him like he was some sort of god—'

'Ah, what's this, high morals from a Malfoy?' Snape jeered. Draco paled, his eyes wide, and the sneer abruptly dropped from the Professor's face. 'I'm sorry,' he muttered. 'I didn't mean that. But it probably is what several people inside that room are thinking right now.'

'Including Weasel,' Draco muttered, chewing his knuckle pensively. He had stopped pacing.

'Listen to me, Draco. I found out about this at the end of last year. I was—well, my reaction was nothing next to yours, but I was none too pleased. After I had made contact with the Dark Lord again, Dumbledore told me the truth. Sirius Black was never a Death Eater, and he never committed those murders.' Snape's expression twisted momentarily into one of derision. 'I should have known, really. No one as close to James Potter as Sirius Black was, could ever have become something so evil as a Death Eater, oh no. It takes a Slytherin to accomplish something like that. That or a weak will,' Snape added. He shook his head as though to dislodge his thoughts. 'Black never committed the murders. He was framed by Peter Pettigrew, who I'm sure you know about. He was also the one who betrayed the Potter family.'

'Pettigrew...' Draco whispered to himself. 'So that's why the little rat is always clinging to the Dark Lord's heels...'

'That and the fact that he helped Voldemort rise again last year, yes.' Draco shuddered. Snape gave him an odd look. 'Didn't you ever wonder how someone supposedly murdered by Black suddenly reappeared at Voldemort's side?'

'We were told it was a set-up,' Draco replied. 'It was supposed to keep suspicions away from Black and Pettigrew both; they were meant to Apparate away during the explosion, but Black was caught.'

'I see.' Snape paused. 'He's Potter's godfather.'

Draco remained silent.

'Draco,' Snape said, more gently now, 'You can't run away from every little thing that upsets you.'

'I don't!' Draco snapped.

'No? All right. But you're doing it too often lately. You've got to be stronger than this.'

'Fine.'

'And Draco?'

He looked up, questioning.

'If you are going to run away, do it properly. None of this half-baked rush-out-of-the-room-then-wait-in-the-corridor nonsense. If you decide you want to get away, get right away. Otherwise it doesn't work. Now come on.'

Snape ushered Draco back up the staircase and into Dumbledore's office. The room was deathly still when they entered and Draco felt every eye in the room swivel to rest on him. Even the past headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were glaring down from their vantage points in the myriad paintings hung on the walls. Draco ignored them, looking only at Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Moody, and finally settling his gaze on Dumbledore.

'I overreacted,' he said, knowing it wasn't enough. 'I'm sorry.'

Dumbledore's head bowed slightly in acknowledgment. 'It was understandable.' He straightened up and cast his gaze about the room.

Draco noticed that many in the group relaxed visibly with the old wizard's next words. Certain others, including Black, stiffened proudly.

'Without further ado, I declare the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix during the Second Uprising, begun.'