A/N: I tried getting this up as soon as I could, and I hope you enjoy it :P

Thanks to Soror Ava for beta-ing for me :P

School has started for me so I'll be taking longer to put up chapters, I really hope you'll bear with me and not mind the long wait. I'll try to get chapters up as quickly as I can, though.

Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 3: Reunion and OWLs

Draco Malfoy paced impatiently around the drawing room. He'd abandoned all attempts to build the pyramid out of his deck of Exploding Snap cards a while earlier. He was too worked up, too excited about what was to come. After having the cards explode in his face for the seventh time he'd stopped and taken to walking about.

When were they going to come back? His Mum had left more than half-an-hour ago – what was taking so long? Maybe they'd got caught, Draco worried. Maybe Aurors had ambushed them … maybe the Dark Lord had discovered the truth and had hurt them, and was on his way to get Draco –

Stop, Draco ordered himself. You're being bloody ridiculous. There is no reason why he should find out Mum and Dad work for the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore is the only one who knows and he's not likely to tell You-Know-Who.

Yes, Dumbledore was the only one who knew the biggest lie that had been presented to the world. The Malfoys, spies for Dumbledore himself. Unbelievable? But of course. How else could the plan be executed so flawlessly, so perfectly?

It had taken a lot of planning, of course. The lies had to be planted, many of them, a web that went so deep and covered all aspects, so that the world was left with but one image: that the Malfoy family were Dark wizards. Through the years the wizarding world had come to suspect Lucius Malfoy was a Death-Eater, though it wasn't proven (it hadn't been proven, until that little Department of Mysteries jaunt that had landed him in prison). It wasn't hard to think they were Dark, especially since they held such disgust and loathing for all things Muggle, including Muggle-borns. After all, Voldemort had the same way of thinking.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had approached James and Lily Potter first. At the time the Potters were key members of the Order, only second to Dumbledore himself (though of course the Malfoys hadn't known this). The plan had been outlined, then agreed upon. It was highly dangerous, of course. 'Get into the Inner Circle … spy on Voldemort without him suspecting a thing … make it so improbable the thought would never cross his mind' – and so the plan was set. It was so secret that only Dumbledore and the Potters knew.

If all three perished, there would be no one to tell the world who the Malfoys really were. Even if all three survived at the end of the war, there was no guarantee the world would believe them. It was highly probable that the Malfoys would always be seen as Dark, no matter how much good they did. The lies were too good, too convincing.

Lucius and Narcissa knew all that, of course. They'd been the ones to propose such a plan, after all. They were so intent upon it the Potters and Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to stop them even if they'd tried.

The plan was executed flawlessly. Lucius rose up quickly. The information came in, sometimes a trickle, never a torrent. It would never do to arouse suspicion. In time more spies were planted but never as deeply undercover as Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius and Narcissa never knew who the other spies were. It was better not to know. They had no information on the Order, either. No knowledge of its members, its plans, nothing they shouldn't know if they were supposed to be loyal servants to the Dark Lord.

They held two little-known honours in the organisation they knew nothing about; they were the first spies ever to be recruited, and they had lasted the longest.

Everything had been going to plan until Draco was born. What were they to do? Surely they weren't going to raise their son to believe Muggle-borns were foul, raise him to be a Dark wizard (as the world – and Voldemort – would surely expect)? No, they loved him. Yet they couldn't expect a child to understand that the values he would be taught were not what he should show the world? How to explain that he would need a mask?

The first year passed without having to come to terms with the problem. No expectation with a one-year-old, or a two-year-old, or a three-year-old … no, the problem would come later, most especially when the boy started at Hogwarts. Would Draco be able to put on that face to the world? Or would everything fall apart? It seemed only time would tell.

And then the murder of the Potters. Voldemort's downfall. Neither Dumbledore nor the Malfoys thought it permanent. Sure the Dark Mark had faded but the prophecy had yet to be fulfilled. Dumbledore had known this and told Lucius, and he'd believed. He didn't know the prophecy, though. Better not to know.

So they kept up the façade, always careful, cautious, keeping an eye and an ear out for any news of the Dark Lord. None came and they concentrated more on their son.

He'd turned out well, beautifully. It had seemed impossible at first but the young Draco, having an active imagination, loved the game Pretend. Pretend to be this, pretend to be that; one day he was an international Quidditch player playing in the World Cup; another day he was a Muggle, marvelling at the wonder of magic. What better way to have him keep up the public image by saying it was all a game of Pretend?

The boy loved that, of course. As he grew older he understood more and it became an act. Be arrogant. Be selfish. Become what you are not. Despise Muggles and Muggle-borns. No one can doubt that you will become Dark.

Draco pondered that for a while as he paced. Would he have to become a Death-Eater when he became of age, if the war was not yet over? Receive the Dark Mark, seal his fate and become a servant?

He shivered. I don't want that. Never. Have that ugly thing on your arm, become a slave …

Draco caught sight of the family portrait above the fireplace. They'd hired the painter last summer. She'd done a very good job and had captured all three Malfoys' features perfectly. There was Lucius, arm around Narcissa; a show of affection he rarely showed the world, except on special occasions. Draco was off to one side, looking a bit sulky; he'd been insulted by the portrait of an 18th century maiden, which was located in the main hallway. Apparently he'd visited her and been shooed away.

Someone grabbed the real Draco from behind then. He gave a yell and struggled to get out his wand before realising –

"Dad?"

He spun around and came face-to-face with Lucius Malfoy, looking tired and worn but with a smile on his face. "Dad!" He gave his father a hug and Lucius returned it, saying softly in his son's ear, "I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Dad." They drew apart and Draco caught sight of his mother, who was smiling. "I didn't hear you come in!"

"Portkey," Draco's father shrugged. "You won't hear anything." Then he regarded Draco. "You've grown, haven't you? You're taller than me now. Well, tell me what you've been up to while I was away."

"Not that much, but –" and Draco didn't stop talking for almost an hour. Seeing his father again after so long put Draco in a very good mood and he was the happiest he had been in quite some time.

"Oh, Dad, look at what Mum and I did to the secret room, it's completely different," Draco led his father to the fireplace. "The Dark Arts stuff are still there, but …"

"We got the house elf to do it last week," Narcissa explained, taking out her wand. "It's liveable; I daresay he didn't do a bad job –"

"With you supervising? I'm sure it'll be fine," Draco's father said. Then he cracked a grin. "Even if it isn't, it'd be better than Casa Serpente and Azkaban." He grew serious. "Glad to be out of both places."

"What was it like? Azkaban – and staying with the Dark Lord?"

"Azkaban wasn't too bad," Mr. Malfoy said lightly. "No Dementors, they're all with the Dark Lord now. But Casa Serpente … the Dementors are most everywhere you go … two weeks there, being on your guard constantly, is more than enough." He took a breath. "I'm here now, though and it feels great. So let's see what you've done to the secret room!"

Draco's mother tapped one of the bricks near the fireplace with her wand and muttered, "Dissendium." In silence the big stone slab directly in front of the fireplace slid under it, revealing stairs that led down into the secret room.

Draco descended first, down winding stone steps. When they ended Draco would see the room in its entirety and when his father came down and saw everything he nodded.

"Very good," he said as he slipped a hand around his wife's waist.

The secret room looked positively inviting. A sofa had been moved from one of the guest rooms to the secret room and it now stood on the left wall. There was a small table in the middle that seated two and a bookshelf and cabinet took up the right wall. All the Dark Arts books, potions and other objects were still there, now dust-free. Directly opposite the stairs was a tapestry that used to hang in the corridor outside the guest rooms and a window that showed a meadow, a tree and currently, the sun setting. Carpeting had been put down on the floor and instead of the single torch lighting up the room orbs of light had been hung up. The cobwebs were gone, too.

"The window changes according to what time it is," Draco told his father. "It's evening now, see, so the sun's setting."

"Draco wanted you to be able to have something to look at, since you'll be here most of the time, so he thought of this," Draco's mother added.

"The window's great," Draco's father strode across the room to have a better look. "Doesn't feel underground anymore, just like the Ministry of Magic."

"It's where I got the idea from, actually," Draco admitted. "Mum finished it yesterday."

"Yes, she did, and it was not a piece of cake, someone had better appreciate it," Mrs. Malfoy threatened.

"Oh, of course I do," Mr. Malfoy said, and in a few strides he'd reached his wife, pulled her close and given her a nice long kiss.

Draco was both revolted and pleased. It was sweet of his father, yes, but did he have to do it in front of him? They were still his parents, for Merlin's sake. There were just some things he couldn't stand to see and his parents kissing in front of him was one of them.

"Oh, come on," he said loudly and his parents broke apart, smiling perhaps a little sheepishly. "Not in front of me!"

"Sorry," they said at the same time.

The owl came the next day while Draco was polishing up his broomstick. The Hogwarts seal on the envelope was enough to make him nervous. This was not just the list of schoolbooks for the coming year; the envelope also contained Draco's OWL results.

Draco, though he hadn't shown it, had worked hard for his OWLs. Not as hard as Hermione Granger had, but hard nonetheless. He'd managed to pound his head into remembering events and dates for History of Magic, a subject he (unsurprisingly) did not fancy. Whether or not those nights spent in the common room had been worth it would be known now.

He tore open the envelope with hands that threatened to shake. He ignored the customary letter and book list, looking for the piece of parchment that had his exam results on it.

Found it!

Draco scanned the results. He hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath and he let it out slowly. A smile crept across his face. Finally, he jumped up with a whoop of delight.

"Ten! Ten! I got ten OWLs!" he reached the door of his bedroom and flung it open. "Mum!" he called, going out into the corridor. "Mum! Guess what I got?"

No answer. Probably down with Dad, he decided. They had, after all, suggested for him to go and do something, a subtle hint that they wanted some alone time.

Draco bounded down the marble staircase and sped into the drawing room. His mother had just emerged form the secret room and the stone slab was just closing as Draco entered.

"Mum! Guess what? Guess what my OWL results are?" Draco waved the piece of parchment around as he hurried across the room to her. "Ten! I got ten! I lost out on Care of Magical Creatures and Astronomy but I got one for History of Magic!"

"Oh, darling, that's wonderful! I'm so proud of you," she brought Draco into a hug that he tried to wriggle out of.

"I can't believe I got it for History of Magic, though," Draco grinned once he'd been let go of.

"Yes, I can still remember all those fails," his mother laughed. "Your father wants to hear about this, go on down and tell him."

Draco did, and his father was just as happy as his mother.

"We have to celebrate," his father said. "I'd go for Atlantis, that new fancy restaurant but I can't go out."

"Who says we're taking you with us?" Draco kidded. He threw his hands up in defence as his father threatened to hit him. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

"But you know officially your father isn't pleased with you," Draco's mother told him.

"Oh, yes, I'm very upset that you didn't beat that Granger, you're a pureblood and she's not, and so on and so forth," Mr. Malfoy said rather airily. "Of course we don't know what she's got, but –"

"Twelve OWLs, no doubt about it," Draco said immediately. "She's so bloody smart."

"No bloody swearing."

Draco rolled his eyes at his father.

Hermione did get twelve OWLs. She screamed when she got the results and hugged Harry and Ron so hard they almost choked.

Harry had gotten nine OWLs. He was rather pleased about it, especially since it meant he could still become an Auror if he wanted to; he'd achieved the minimum set of requirements needed to attend the Advanced classes for subjects like Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions and Transfiguration. The only thing that dampened his mood was the thought of two more years under Snape.

Ron had eight OWLs. He was happy about what he'd gotten, "Mum was expecting eight or nine, I think, so that's all right. And I can get into most of the Advanced classes so I've still got my career options open."

"I wonder how everyone else did," Hermione pondered. "Do you think they've posted the results on the notice board, like our exam results?"

Harry shrugged. "We can check."

Ron and Hermione had arrived at Hogwarts just two days after Harry had. It had been wonderful to see both of them again and catch up on everything that had been happening. They'd also enjoyed the liberty of roaming about the castle by themselves without being stopped by anyone.

Teachers like McGonagall and Sprout, the Heads of Houses, were already at Hogwarts. Firenze the centaur was also there (having been banned from the Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts was the only place he could go). Harry rarely saw Snape, which was a relief but he assumed the Potions master was staying down in the dungeons. Most of the Professors, McGonagall had explained to him, had arrived about a week prior to the start of term.

Harry, Ron and Hermione found a name list with all the coming sixth-years' results in the Gryffindor common room.

"Neville's got six," Ron said, scanning the list with his finger.

"Yeah? What about Dean and Seamus?" Harry asked.

"Dean's here," Hermione said, pointing at 'Thomas, Dean'. "He's got … eleven! That's really good!"

"Seamus got eight, same as me," Ron said.

Harry looked past the F's to the G's. "Goyle's got one," he laughed. "Herbology."

"Oh, let me see," Ron snickered.

"Pansy Parkinson's got five," Hermione read, delighted. "Parvati's got ten, her sister too."

Harry scanned the list for an all-too-familiar name. Ron found it the same time Harry did and both of them groaned.

"Ten! Malfoy got ten?" Ron said disbelievingly. "How'd he get ten?"

"By studying?" Hermione suggested. "He isn't stupid, we all know that."

"Yeah, but we can wish," Ron sighed.

"We have to pick the subjects we're taking in sixth year, don't we?" Harry remembered. "Before term starts."

"Cross out History of Magic for me," Ron said. "I didn't even pass that one."

"Well, I'm dropping History of Magic and Astronomy," Hermione announced to stunned silence. She looked round at Ron and Harry. "What?"

"You're dropping subjects?" Ron asked, disbelief written all over his face.

"Yes – because – well, I don't think I'll need those subjects for NEWTs, when I apply for a job," Hermione explained. "NEWTs are going to be tough and I want to be able to concentrate on subjects I'll need."

"Makes sense, I guess," Ron said.

"Is that the Daily Prophet?" Harry asked Hermione. She had something tucked under her arm.

"Oh – here," she gave it to him. "I haven't even looked at the headlines yet."

Voldemort hadn't made any new moves since the last time Harry had read the paper. Fudge was still missing. Harry suspected Voldemort and his followers had already killed him. The attack on a family of Muggles a week before had successfully been handled (meaning no Muggles were suspicious about the existence of magic). The Muggle family's eleven-year-old son had been saved, the sole survivor of the attack. Much to everyone's surprise, he was discovered to be a potential wizard. He was due to start at Hogwarts in two weeks' time and was currently staying with Marian Garr, a young witch who was a member of the Obliviator Squad.

"You know the Ministry of Magic had been forewarned about that Muggle attack?" Hermione mused as she read the article on the boy.

"What? No way – why didn't they do anything to protect the Muggles, then?" Harry was sceptical.

"Because they only found out half-an-hour before the attack began," Hermione said.

"According to Lucius Malfoy's sister and Snape, You-Know-Who only told them and the other Death-Eaters the time of attack half-an-hour before," Ron added. "Really last-minute, huh?"

"We got all this from Fred and George after Ginny blackmailed them," Hermione said, keeping her voice even. It was impossible to tell if she approved of disapproved of the blackmailing.

"I still can't believe it, though," Harry shook his head. "Lucius Malfoy's sister is a spy for the Order."

"Newly recruited," Hermione reminded him.

"How can Dumbledore trust her?" Harry wondered. "Look at her brother."

"Professor Lupin knew her at school, he says she was quiet and he'd never heard her repeat that rubbish about purebloods and Muggle-borns," Hermione sad. "And Ron and I have met her, she doesn't seem bad."

"Better than Snape any day," Ron said. "If it weren't for who her brother is I'd have no doubts at all."

"But you do have doubts," Harry pressed.

Ron shrugged. "You just said it, mate. Look at her brother."

A/N: Ha, didn't expect that, did you?

My wonderful wonderful reviewers, thank you so much!

SycoCallie: Unfortunately it's going to be slow-going, with school and everything … but as Janid Lucer says, "Patience is a virtue!" :P

Rosaline Kells: Thanks, I've never actually written from the trio's POV before, so I'm glad to hear that.

miCHi: Thanks!

horseluver13: Yes beams Draco/Hermione is my favourite ship!

Lyra Skywalker: Er, probably not. The main reason why I rewrote 'Facades' was because Draco's powers were giving me a problem with the rest of the plot.

Smiles28: Thanks!

liveandletlive: Goodie that's what I was aiming for … a better version:P And it'll be quite different too …

bigred20: Thanks!

Forsaken163: Is Draco going to get along with Harry? You'll just have to wait and see …

HermyPenguin: Well I've got the same background (the Malfoys being spies) so a few of the key events in 'Facades' will be the same, but I don't think Draco will have powers in this one. It screwed up the rest of my plot, that's why I did the rewrite. Nefarious Blake is still here, as is his mother. Blaise Zabini, too. About Kingsley, the Aurors knew the Death-Eaters were going to attack. Thinking that Harry would be safely indoors the Aurors decided to put a decoy outside – Kingsley looking like Harry. Washing the car was just a coincidence, Kingsley didn't know Uncle Vernon wanted the car washed.

ty-rant84: Yeah, Harry wasn't supposed to go outside … appreciate your opinion :P

nevermore: I don't like Janid Lucer either lol Lucius and Narcissa have bearings on the plot that affect Draco and others too … but I don't think I'll have a whole chapter in their POV or something like that.

The Imperius: Aha alright, press the 'go' button lolz

Pierre: Thanks!

Hope you enjoyed that, don't forget to hit that "go" button before you leave and drop me a review! Heheh. Criticism welcome.