Title: "Mask"

Author: Lyla Hayden

Rating: Mature, "R", "M", whatever. Warnings are; slash, gore, the usual nasties but nothing too graphic.

Pairing: HP/DM, what else?

Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. Harry's mask has deep roots, but the one who helps him remove them is the one he would least expect.

A/N: Hullo! n.n Sorry, sorry…I'm having a LOT of problems at home…There's a high chance of me getting committed…bleh…Fun shtuff. Yeah, so, anyway…I have decided to make this the last chapter. I'm sorry if that frustrates anyone, but I can't keep a normal schedule for updating with my home-life and my writer's block. Here's the last chapter for you.

"Mask"

Part Ten:

"Illuminations"

It looked just like Harry remembered it. The Potion Master's office held a large assortment of jars with various items inside. Harry glanced at one jar and jumped back in shock. "A little jumpy today, Mister Potter?" came the cool, hissing voice of Severus.

"Is that…is that a real eye?" Harry asked, pointing at the jar.

"Yes, Potter. It came from one of the children I tortured while in service of Voldemort." At the shocked look on the Gryffindor's face, the professor shook his head. "That's a joke. It's an enchanted eye given to me by a good friend of mine. It can see glimpses of the future."

Harry stood with his jaw wide open. The slimy Potion's teacher had made a joke? A joke aimed towards the great Harry Potter? "Don't tease the boy, Severus. He's had a hard week." Remus stepped in from a hidden door behind Harry.

The ravenhead stared as his guardian went to stand next to Severus, resting one hand comfortably on the greasy professor's shoulder. Harry shook his head silently before asking them impassively, "Where's Albus?"

"Harry," Remus sighed, "Albus is resting. The cancer is spreading."

The boy stood there in silence for a moment before saying softly, "Has anyone found a way around the curses embedded on the tumor?"

"Potter, the tumor has so many curses put on it that would activate and kill anyone who tried to remove it. Regardless, we've been looking. One, maybe two, of the hundreds of them can be taken off, but it wouldn't do us any good at the moment," Severus sighed impatiently.

Remus gently squeezed the man's shoulder. "Albus seems to have accepted the fact that the tumor will grow until it strikes some part of his brain that would cause irreparable damage, or just kill him."

Harry stood in silence, staring off into space. "Harry, why don't you go eat breakfast? I'll come get you when he wakes up." Harry nodded at Remus. "I'll see you in class, Harry. Severus, I think you need to start getting ready for your classes."

Harry left without waiting for a response from the Potions teacher. The halls loomed gloomily as Harry walked by. Light footfalls ahead made emerald look to meet steel. A soft smile graced the beautiful features of Draco's face.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, Harry sighed. Questions flew at him madly about where he was, why he came in with Draco, why he wasn't hurt, and other such questions. Blatantly ignoring them seemed to be the best option, but it would just make them ask so many more questions.

"Harry! Are you ignoring us?" The ravenhead looked over at the boys before him and shook his head. "Harry, what happened to you? You don't look like you're all that hurt. Did Malfoy slip a potion into your drink or something?"

"Harry, you've changed so much these past few weeks," Hermione said softly as she scooted closer to him. "What's gotten into you?"

"I haven't changed, 'Mione. I am just not who you want me to be anymore. I'm being Harry Potter, not the Boy-Who-Lived." The Gryffindors stared at him in silence. Harry moved to stand up. Hermione placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"Harry, why did you think you had to be someone else?" Her eyes were brimming with tears and Harry felt his heart twinge at that.

"If I acted like myself all this time, everyone would have been disappointed. But I can't hide behind a mask forever, and I guess I needed someone to show me this." Harry sighed and rubbed at his temples. Explaining this to them was harder than he expected.

"Is that why you're engaged to Malfoy?" His eyes shot up to meet Dean's unwavering gaze. "It says that you two are engaged in the Prophet." As if to collaborate his story, he held up his copy of the paper.

"You…Malfoy…" Ron's face grew steadily redder. Hermione patted his leg gently, trying to calm him down. Whether it was anger at the fact that they might be getting married, or anger at the fact that Harry hadn't told him anything about it, Harry didn't know. All he knew was that if he didn't calm things down soon, he'd lose his very first friend forever.

"We are not engaged," Harry said sternly. "Two men can't even get married, can they?"

"Muggles look down on it, but the Wizarding world is much better at acceptance on that sort of thing, Harry," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Where did the Prophet even get such an idea in the first place?"

"It says here that he, Harry that is, has a ring that use to belong to Malfoy's mother and that he wears it on his left ring finger." Dean looked up from the paper and at Harry's hand. Dolphins with sapphire eyes looked back.

"It was just a present," Harry muttered, blush creeping up onto his face. "We aren't engaged, just dating, and how did they link the ring to engagement anyway?"

"Someone, I don't know who, told the Prophet about it and had pictures of the two of you dancing at some party." Dean set the Prophet on the table only to have Ron snatch it up just as his hand left the paper. "Harry, when did you go to a party with Malfoy?"

"It was a while ago," Harry said distantly. Could Sebastian have taken the pictures and story to the Prophet? It was possible. No one else bothered to ask him any more questions. Even if they had, Harry didn't hear them.

After breakfast, Harry wandered off to class a few minutes later than all his friends. Hands grabbed him an pulled him inside an empty classroom. "Harry, did you see the Prophet this morning?"

Harry squinted at the dark shape. "Draco?" The blonde sighed and flicked the lights on. "Oh, it is you. And yes, I did see the paper. Dean showed it to me."

"This…is…SO not good, Har." Harry stayed silent, hoping the boy would explain on his own. "I don't mean the implication is bad. My father would be so mad at me if he was still alive. Then again, my mother would be happy and start planning the wedding." Draco paused to allow himself a little smile.

"What's bad about the Prophet thinking that?" Harry asked skeptically after a moment.

"Right, well, my relatives are going to read it and they will either disown me or plan the wedding out from start to finish without asking if the story is true or not." Harry frowned. Draco looked over at him and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

The Slytherin wrapped his arms around Harry and drew him close. The ravenhead returned the embrace. "Well, there's only one thing we can do, Draco." The blonde pulled back a bit to look at him. "Let's make the story true."

It took him a moment to understand the meaning of that statement. "You mean, you want to get married?" Harry thought for a minute, then nodded. "That would be…wonderful." He smiled softly and pulled Harry into a deep kiss.

End-

A/N: …I'm bad with endings, I know. Plus, this whole chapter was pure improvisation. Please don't shoot me. (Whimper) I'll fix my profile when I post this…It looks odd right now…Yeah, so please be nice in your reviews.