Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Oh I don't own the lyrics to Voices by Godsmack either.

A/N OKi, I deleted this One shot by accident. I'm an idiot, proven, but I'll just upload this and say I fixed it. I feel lazy, but it is my mistake I deleted it. -smacks self-

Perfidiosus- treachery

Listen to the rain fallin' day by day
Listen to the rain fallin' day by day by day
Hey

I hear you calling, voices are here again
I hear you whisper, taking control of me
Watch the dancing shadows run away
All alone once again, afraid

All these faces, changing their shapes on me
Isolated in my own world, will it ever be free?
Haunted figures around me, I want em' to stay
There always there to protect me, this is one thing you can't take away

Listen to the rain fallin' day by day
Listen to the rain fallin' day by day by day
Yeah!

I hear you calling, voices are here again
I hear you whisper in my own mind, will it ever change?
Voices
Voices
Voices
Voices

I hear you calling

The water fell down Harry's back, warming him up again. It helped, he was always cold. A cold that never lifted unless it was a hot summer's day, which kept everything, even the flies, away.

Harry hung his head, wrapping his fingers in the thick mass of dark hair that was sticking to his head. He had his eyes closed as he washed himself, of everything. He washed himself clean of the war, of Voldemort, of hate.

"Potter, one of us must die, and sadly it won't be me. I'll kill you finally, no more tricks on your part. You will die today. I've waited too long for immortality to be stopped by you, a little brat who can't even hold his wand up because his arm is broken! You were doomed from the start; you're going to be destroyed finally, by me!"

Voldemort's voice ringing in his head would no longer haunt him; he washed himself clean of even that.

Left inside him was a sort of saddened peace. So much anger, so much hate, so many lies, and he was washing it off of his body and letting it seep into the drain and fester in the earth, hopefully being trapped in the pipes forever.

How the hell was he supposed to decode the spider's web of deceit, though? Pansy Parkinson said she was innocent, Draco Malfoy protested loudly that he had been cast under imperius curses, Crabbe and Goyle screamed of their absolute loyalty to their master, a nameless demon. That was only their side.

Hermione screamed at night, crying out for Ron who came rushing into her chambers holding her as she relived every torture over and over again. Ginny held tightly to a pendant given to her by an unknown lover, McGonagall and Snape tried to rebuild the school that had been lost to darkness for five months.

Much more devastation to families had happened, friends, brothers, sisters, fathers, and mothers, all of them lost. Even through it all, the ministry was trying to hold its own. Like charging Draco Malfoy with killing fifteen muggles, becoming a Death Eater, and raping many helpless victims.

Ron had believed every words of it. Harry wished he could, but he knew the truth. Draco Malfoy had not done those things. Even though Harry knew damn well Malfoy hated muggles, muggleborns, and especially Harry himself (or as he kept telling himself), Malfoy was a coward.

He'd rather spar with words, jab deep with what bothers a person. Harry knew this after spending way too much time with the git. Harry lathered his hair with shampoo again, smelling the sweet mango spread across the room with the hot water vapour.

Harry sighed and looked at the grey tiles on his bathroom floor, starting to get a little wet from the shower's spray. The window across the room had misted up by now, looking pearly white, and not a reflection to be seen.

Harry knew Malfoy had been right; Voldemort would make his mark whether Harry died, or he died.

"Trust me Potter, Voldemort will always be remembered. He's the dark version of Merlin, and you, you'll be forgotten. People who don't love you may know of your name in the future, but that's all you'll be. A name, a symbol, a hero. You think anyone knows how the great Heracleus actually felt? Doubt it. Half the world believes he's a myth. Is that what you will become Harry? Is that what you want to become?"

Harry smirked at the memory of Malfoy's speech. It had struck a chord, honestly. And after that Harry vowed to find a reason to want to be remembered. He hadn't found it, not yet anyway. And Malfoy's voice, his words, kept flowing in his head, a haunting memory.

When Harry had been told Malfoy was going to be subjected to the Dementor's kiss, he knew something had to be done. But what could be done when the world wanted people to blame? They didn't care about innocence or truth, they just wanted a reason to let out the hurt they had been caused.

Cornelius Fudge is the perfect example. Toppled from power, trying to rebuild it up around him. He needed Harry there at every moment; people didn't follow anybody but him anymore. Harry was the new power, and Harry hated it.

"Harry, my boy, they'll follow you, you know. They will listen to you; you are the key in rebuilding our society. Draco Malfoy is a traitor, you will see it when they prove how much of a horrible person he is. How he helped cause such disorder, topple our lifestyles, kill innocents. Trust me on this one thing; we will rebuild this world Harry, you and I."

But Malfoy might be the only innocent in this whole web of treachery. Alliances, hate, grudges, and loves. Malfoy alone, as Harry had observed, kept himself out of it after his father's death. The death of such an important person had shaken him, and it hadn't been a good thing.

Malfoy had turned to Voldemort, only to realize years later, as he killed Severus Snape, what a mistake he had made. He had been the last of his mentors to die. He'd confessed to Harry himself on a very dreary night, the night he had saved Dumbledore from an unforgivable.

But Harry knew, knew Malfoy would hold his stand. He was innocent, and he'd use anything, even his connection with Harry, to get him out. Harry had already silently promised to help keep Malfoy's life intact.

Harry made himself his own promise. Malfoy would be last person he had come to care about and watched die in front of his eyes.

"Harry, you can't be serious! Ron will absolutely die once you tell him your going to try to help Malfoy get out of the Dementor's kiss, are you going to risk everything for this? The world will follow you, but even that cannot go this far, you know. And if it does, you're a goddamn miracle Harry Potter! A bloody well damn made piece of work! Shit, you're going to send me into an early labour one of these days!"

Hermione had prattled on to him about how dangerous his decision could be. What if they were wrong and the ministry was right? Bullocks on Harry's opinion, but she did have a point. Harry only trusted Hermione to keep his secret, once it was done it was done and Ron, along with the rest of the world, would follow.

Hermione's voice of reason kept trilling in his head, even while he tried to wash himself clean of everything. Harry shut off the tap, the last of the warm water trailing down his body and letting the warm moist air give way around him.

Harry stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and looked at his misty reflection in the mirror. He had many voices in his head all the time, and this time, he would listen to his own.

"Save him."

"Harry Potter." There it was, the fatal voice, calling him to his, well not his fate, but Draco Malfoy's fate. He'd never thought he'd ever play a hand in Draco Malfoy's fate, but now he did.

Walking up and staring Malfoy straight in the eye. He lied for Malfoy, to get him safely out of there. He gave reasons why Malfoy would never have committed those things, and told the biggest lie of them all. "He's my fiancé, why would I love someone who'd killed so many? He's done some wrong things, but he's atoned for it. I'm a hundred percent sure of that." Ahh, a truth inside a lie, go figure.

The whole room was shocked, hell even Malfoy wasn't left unfazed. Only too many people in the confusion of mad whispers didn't notice his cool expression falter. Harry didn't know why he said it, it had not been in the original plan, but seeing Fudge's still unbelieving face made him think up something people would believe, no matter how unlikely it was.

In the end, Harry was such like the rest of them, a liar, and therefore, somehow, a traitor. Even though he was betraying no one but the liars who couldn't face their own pain.

"Fiancé, Potter?" Malfoy said, looking around the cell he had called home for three months. He was leaving it today, free. Harry's lies had done him well. They had chewed up and spat out each word, but believed it nonetheless.

"Well I had to say something…" Harry grumbled, still regretting not telling Ron about the truth before he'd punched Harry for going off and having an affair with Malfoy without his consent. Another voice yelling, screaming in his head; Harry was so tired of the voices.

It was raining again, Harry reminded Malfoy to cover himself up as they took him to Harry's house, where he would stay indefinitely. Harry's lies had drawbacks to them, and Harry didn't know why neither of them were screaming at each other for it. They'd have to spend a lifetime together, most likely. The lie was going to have to become truth.

"I'll make you something to remember, Potter, trust me on that." Malfoy said, winking at him as they left the ministry with few of Draco's belongings. He'd lost most of them three months ago when he'd been 'caught.'

"If you say so." Harry said, helping Draco into a cab, a muggle cab mind you, they didn't want anyone to suspect them in London. The floo system was still down; no one trusted it yet. Death Eaters had killed that way, they had to disable the network before too many deaths escalated.

Muggles still had to be oblivious about wizards, there had been a few times where muggles found out, but a simple 'forget it' curse worked, making them forget it the instant they thought about it. It was not the easiest spell to work with, though; better to use obliviate as soon as possible.

"Potter, never forget about me." Draco said as they drove in the car, and Harry looked at the man, frowning. How could he forget about Draco? He always heard him calling, silently or loudly. Draco Malfoy's voice was one of the loudest he ever had heard.

Harry Potter was a traitor, but he was a traitor with a voice. Even though it wasn't his own, it was better then nothing. He'd never be lonely, he'd always have that, he'd always hear it calling him.

Review if ya read it, if it doesn't make much sense we'll put it this way, it was written late at night cause I was having writers block. I just decided 'hey mide as well put it on fanfiction for the hell of it'