Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do own a heart rate monitor that I had to pay ninety bucks for it for a gym class in college. Blah!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As spring break is next week for me, updates may range anywhere from few and far between to non-existent, but only for a week.

QuinkyDink: Ooops, lol. But thanks, I think one of the greatest compliments a writer in training can get is that they have improved, so thank you. And I went back to re-read some of AtW, and I keep catching all of these spelling and grammatical errors and cringe, so I can't read it at all.

Donna: I actually got a few responses like yours, but that's cool because I wanted it to be thought provoking, and for Draco, he knows how evil Voldemort is, so Bill's argument just helped him decide where he stood, thanks for the review

NMS: thank you!

Gremlin: Thanks a lot! I'm glad that you liked it

Chicklepea: Hey, thanks for the review, and next time I'll be sure to make the plea for reviews more demanding to inspire you, lol.

W.O: I wonder what's in store for Draco as well, thanks for the review

Laureselde: Thanks for the review, and a few other people sided with Draco as well, thanks for the review!

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Chapter 17

Rule number fourteen: Sometimes it's necessary to reveal strengths to be perceived as strong.

Draco got up early the next morning (when did he not?) and finished the homework he didn't do last night. Now that he didn't want to be a Death Eater, he had to figure out a way not to be one, and still walk away with the money in his personal vaults. He knew what he was worth: ten million galleons cash, another ten million invested, and a quaint, little chateau in France at another five million.

He was pretty sure that if he was unable to leave with his fortune, he would merely stay, become a Death Eater, and keep it. He may be selling his soul to the devil, but he was quite certain that he wasn't worth 25 million galleons, not even with his genius intellect; he simply wasn't nice enough. Besides, he was a Malfoy after all, and what good is a Malfoy without money?

Even with the stress of trying to figure out how to get out of Death Eater duties, he found that he wasn't quite as anxious as he was in the beginning of the year. It really was amazing how much a simple realization could take that load off.

Feeling less strained, he played his part of Slytherin bully to the core and made a little first year Hufflepuff girl cry by merely glaring at her. He smirked and made his way down to the Great Hall where he didn't eat, as usual, but managed to land Nott in a detention by making it appear as if the sixth year boy had tripped the Weasel, when it reality, it had been Draco. Yes, it was good to be relaxed, or rather, as relaxed as he ever got, which was still, in normal terms, rather tense.

He was a little apprehensive of Bill in their tutoring session after Ancient Runes, afraid that the Professor would mention their debate last night, but Bill didn't mention it. In fact, Bill looked rather tired.

"Late night?" asked Draco, cocking an eyebrow as Bill yawned for the eleventh time in twenty minutes.

"You could say that," said Bill, blinking open his eyes wider to read over the parchment in his hand. "I must be getting old."

Draco smirked at that, his fingers drumming on the table as he looked over his own scroll.

"So, hyperactive?" asked Bill.

Draco glanced up to see Bill smiling at his drumming fingers and got a weird sense of deja vu. Bill had asked that question before, so why was he bringing it up again?

"Last night," Bill clarified. "You said that you were hyperactive."

Oh, yeah. Shit, he really was losing it, wasn't he?

"Slightly," said Draco, turning back to his work.

"I'm guessing insomniac, too," said Bill.

This time Draco's whole head jerked up. "What?" he asked, not able to stop the question from escaping his lips.

"Insomniac," said Bill. "You know, the one where you don't sleep a lot."

"I know what it is," said Draco. "And no, I'm not."

"Liar," said Bill, giving him his own smirk, which was really only a soft 'I-know-I'm-right' smile.

Draco knew that if he denied it, he would only be confirming Bill's suspicions, so he leaned back and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I happen to know," said Bill, "that you were up rather late last night, and yet here you are, perfectly normal, and you're not even stopping yourself from yawning."

"How do you know I was up late last night?" asked Draco, changing the subject.

"My window faces the lake," said Bill. "Plus, insomnia is a usual complaint from people with genius intelligence."

Draco scowled; Bill was too good to be sidetracked. Bill grinned triumphantly, knowing that his silence meant an answer in the affirmative, and got back to work.

Draco hesitated before returning to the pages as well. Never before had someone known so much about him, and he felt exposed and…vulnerable. He didn't know what to do. While part of him enjoyed the fact that he didn't have to hide around Bill, he hated the feeling that Bill might be getting a little too close.

"By the way," said Bill. "You really need to work on your stone-skipping skills. Your form is all wrong."

"Perhaps we can take a field trip to the lake during a tutoring session," said Draco, slightly scathingly, but Bill only laughed, then stopped suddenly.

Draco looked at him warily, waiting for another question. Bill actually seemed hesitant about this one.

"Draco, do you know how to do the Cruciatus curse?" he asked.

"What brought that on?" asked Draco.

"A weird dream I had," said Bill.

Draco gave him a funny look and turned back to his sheet.

"I'm sorry," said Bill, ruefully. "It's-"

Draco cut him off. "Yes," he said.

"I'm sorry, what?" asked Bill.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, I can perform the Cruciatus," he said. "Although the Imperius is easier for me."

Bill seemed at a loss for words. "The Imperius…?" he trailed off, the question lingering in his voice.

"Well, it's all a matter of will power isn't it?" asked Draco. "The Cruciatus requires hatred, burning hatred, while the Imperius just needs a strong mind, so it naturally came easier to me. I was doing the Imperius at eleven, after a month of practice; the Cruciatus took me until twelve."

Yes, there he was giving away information again, but this one had a purpose. Bill really was learning a bit to much about him, so the reminder that he was not an innocent, harmless teenager would not only serve to distance the Professor, but to also reaffirm his position as a rather powerful Dark Wizard.

Rule number fourteen: Sometimes it's necessary to reveal strengths to be perceived as strong.

And Bill did look a little unnerved, and Draco was irritated to find that he suddenly wished he had simply not answered the question. He picked up his quill and went back to work, bending his head over the page and feeling his fingers blunder in their attempt to twitch out their usual pattern. He glared.

"You need more of a flick of the wrist," said Bill.

Draco looked up. "Pardon?"

"Skipping rocks," said Bill. He stood up and pantomimed casting a rock. "The motion extends from the shoulder, but you also need a slight flick of the wrist at the end to really get the stone in a horizontal trajectory."

Draco stared. "You're showing me how to skip rocks," he said, a note of incredulity in his voice. "We may have the means of decoding perhaps one of the most well known, never translated Ancient Runes and you're bloody telling me how to skip a rock?"

"It's important," said Bill, shrugging. "Every kid should be taught how to skip rocks. My dad taught all of us how too, so I figured I'd pass along the knowledge."

Draco just shook his head in disbelief, though he was secretly pleased that Bill hadn't stayed freaked out over the fact that the sixteen year old next to him could perform Unforgivables, plus he had shown him how to skip a rock. It was almost as if he was with his brother all over again.

Bill smiled and copied the untranslated runes on the board and then returned to his seat next to Draco. There was silence as they simply looked at the runes.

"Have you tried putting this with the Roman Runes?" asked Draco suddenly. "It looks like it."

"It does not," said Bill.

"The shape is the same," said Draco.

"What are you looking at?" asked Bill. "It looks as similar as Harry looks like Snape."

"Black hair, pale skin," said Draco. "It looks the same."

"So you're saying that Harry and Snape look alike?"

"I'm saying that they have similar features," said Draco.

"No," said Bill, shaking his head. "They don't look the same. There is no way they could be related."

"We're not talking about being related," said Draco. "We're talking about looking the same."

"If this dialect fit into the Roman one, they would be related. Snape could not be related to Harry so, ergo, they are not similar looking."

"You're saying that because Snape couldn't be Potter's father, the two dialects aren't related?" asked Draco.

Bill thought for a moment and then, "Yeah. That's about it."

Draco couldn't help but smile, completely incredulous at the Professor. Bill stared at him in shock and then immediately ran to the window and looked outside.

"What are you doing?" asked Draco.

"Making sure the world isn't ending," said Bill. "Because you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, just smiled an-honest-to-goodness, genuine smile, and I am sure that you smiling like that must be breaking some law of nature that must bring about the apocalypse or at least tear a hole in the fabric of the universe."

"And you sharing Weasley skipping stone secrets with a Malfoy is perfectly acceptable?" Draco returned, wiping the grin from his face.

Bill let out a sigh of relief. "Good point," he said. "The paradoxes must have cancelled each other out so the universe is safe."

Draco tried to stop the next smile, but it slipped on despite his efforts to remain serious.

"Look at you," said Bill, grinning at him teasingly. "You're like a kid that learned a new word and can't stop using it."

Draco felt his cheeks flush slightly, only partly in embarrassment, and Bill leaned back in his chair, a satisfied expression on his face. Draco scowled, chucked a pencil at him, and then returned back to work.

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To say that the day had been a good one would have been an understatement. Bill packed up his things after Draco had left still smiling triumphantly.

First, he had definitely made progress in the riddle that was Draco Malfoy. Insomniac and hyperactive were added to the character description along with dangerous. Well, dangerous had always been up on the list, but with the new knowledge that Draco could perform two out of the three Unforgiveables was a sobering thought. Bill figured that Draco had told him on purpose. If there was one thing Draco detested, it was being treated like a child. Bill remembered how angry Draco had been when Bill suggested that he had to be supervised over Christmas break.

Draco was one of those people who were forced to grow up to soon and so needed to be related to as an adult. The only problem was that while Draco may be smarter than an adult, he was still a teenager in many ways and there were sometimes when he needed to take the place as a child.

Secondly, Bill had made progress with the teenager that was Draco Malfoy. The kid had actually smiled. It wasn't one of those smirks that he usually pulled or one of those quirks of the lips when he was amused, it was an honest-to-Merlin smile. His teeth had even shown, and Bill had to admit, that with the smile, it was no wonder the boy was the sex icon of the school. While Draco would never be able to pull the rugged look, there was a type of beauty about him that was quite striking.

And Draco had blushed when Bill teased him. To be sure, it was next to nothing when compared to how red any of the Weasley family could turn, but for a moment, there was actually color in the pale, pale skin.

Thirdly, Voldemort hadn't called all Christmas vacation, something that Bill was extremely thankful for. That did not mean that the Death Eaters didn't get together, supposedly they had met for a celebration of their own in Nott's Manor (Snape had informed them), but it meant that Bill could relax. He quickly knocked on one of the wooden doors of an empty classroom so he didn't jinx himself.

Fourthly, Bill was going to propose to a very beautiful, passionate, adventurous, cultured, and funny girl, and while that was more call for nervousness and agitation then actually joy, he felt so good right now, that he was sure she would say yes.

His euphoria ended after dinner with a sharp pain in his arm. As he was in his room, he immediately downed the potions, threw on the invisibility cloak, and grabbed his wand. He raced through the castle, thankful that as it was later in the evening the halls weren't full. He managed to completely avoid most of the students, though he nearly ran into one student who was heading towards the library, though in his haste he didn't see who it was.

Snape was waiting for him by the back exit and while Bill was sure that he had made no noise, the original spy did not start when Bill placed a hand on his shoulder to alert him to his presence.

Without a word, Snape turned and began the long trek past the Hogwarts wards, Bill following in silence. Once they reached the edge of the forest, Snape paused and allowed Bill time to focus in on the destination they were being called to. Bill had to concentrate harder than the average Death Eater, because although he had a bit of the Mark on his forearm, it was quite small so that the Dark Lord would not be alerted to his presence.

"Got it," he whispered once he could picture the clearing in the wood that seemed to be Voldemort's meeting place of choice, as he could remember five others in the same grove, and quickly drew up his shields around his mind so that the Legilimens of the group wouldn't catch a glimpse of his brain.

They both Apparated, Snape disappearing with a crack and Bill merely disappearing, having the advantages of being a very rare Silent Apparater. He appeared, well, materialized in the grove. He didn't really appear because he was wearing the invisibility cloak. He then proceeded to commence on the most nerve-racking part of the night: making his way from the gathering of Death Eaters to the side-lines without being heard or running into anyone.

There was a large gathering tonight and Bill began to sweat as he tried to dodge Death Eaters. It was particularly hard to guess where the masked figures were heading, because he couldn't see their eyes for reference, and their black cloaks blended in with the shadows extremely well. Bill was thankful when the torches around the circle were lit, though it meant he had to get out of there quick because he would still cast a shadow. He made it to the edge of the forest and behind a tree before he allowed himself to relax (the tree was merely for his on psychological comfort than it was a physical necessity of hiding). Mentally checking to make sure that his shields were still up, he took a deep breath and began to listen in.

"Why is it, Severus, that the attack on the French Ministry was anticipated?"

Shit, Bill thought grimly. It was one of those 'interrogate Snape' nights. He didn't know why the Potions Master continued to return to this abuse. Bill knew that in time Severus' position would be reaffirmed and that he could once again bring back vital information, but right now, Bill could only marvel at the man's endurance. He didn't scream under the Cruciatus and he didn't blather on or beg for mercy.

Gradually, Voldemort's attention dragged to other members of his following, thought none of them received punishment as harsh as Snape, who was sprawled on the ground, not unconscious, but unable to rise. Bill honestly could not fathom why people still fought to join the ranks of a madman that was not against torturing his most loyal.

Apparently appeased for the night, Voldemort turned his attention to other matters.

"Nott, do you have it yet?" he demanded.

A masked figure stepped forward from the group and bowed low.

"It has been discovered, my lord. One more month is all I ask you."

Well, turns out Voldemort didn't really like that suggestion. Nott fell to the ground screaming.

"Imbeciles!" Voldemort hissed. "All of you. Is this the service you give to me? Lucius, what about you?"

Bill started. He hadn't realized that Malfoy was there; in fact Bill couldn't remember seeing the man at a meeting for weeks. He must have been on a mission.

Lucius stepped forward, just the right amount of arrogant swagger and subservience in his gait.

"Progress has been made, my lord," he said, "although nothing definite as of yet. I shall know more when I return to India but I believe there may be a way."

Bill frowned. A way to what?

"This is all you give me?" Voldemort demanded, raising his wand.

"It is all that can be done as of now," said Lucius.

Bill was surprised; he hadn't thought any of the Death Eaters were allowed to talk back to Voldemort like that, but the wand Voldemort had been raising was lowered. Lucius, to Bill's surprise, continued.

"I asked for this mission even though it was deemed impossible. Impossible things take time. It is getting late now, and you are not yet as strong as you once were. Let us retire for the night, and I shall tell you more of what I have discovered."

"Are you implying that I am weak?" Voldemort demanded.

"Not weak," said Lucius, "but weakened."

Bill waited for the curse to fall on Lucius, but to his surprise, Voldemort chuckled.

"Always the way with words, my light one," he said, almost fondly. "Very well, send these fools away from me and then we shall talk."

Voldemort turned his back and walked a few feet away. Lucius turned to the rest.

"You are dismissed," he said curtly. "Take this lesson to heart and serve him better."

The Death Eaters began Apparating away and Bill watched as Snape slowly raised himself up. The spy's mask was off and his face was pale and sweat dripped down his brow. Bill wondered if Snape was going to make it back to the castle, but then Snape pulled out his wand and Apparated away. Bill waited until Lucius joined Voldemort and the two disappeared as well before Apparating as well.

As soon as he felt his feet touch the forest ground, he threw off the invisibility cloak and whirled around, scanning the ground for Snape. The Potions Master was half-leaning against a tree. Apparently he had tried to stand and had collapsed, finally succumbing to unconsciousness, though his breathing was harsh and ragged.

Bill knelt by Snape's body, pulling off the large, black robe to see if he could ascertain the damage, but he was terrible with healing spells and had no clue where even to start, and the Ennervate he cast had no effect. Bill cursed the fact that it was impossible to Apparate onto Hogwarts grounds, and looked up at the castle, wondering if he should go get help or risk moving the spy.

Normally he would just levitate the Professor, but he knew enough to know that if someone did not respond to a wakening charm, it could mean additional magic might cause the victim to slip into shock. Bill stood, draping the invisibility cloak over the spy for warmth, but making sure to leave the head uncovered so he could find him again, and then sprinted up towards the castle.

It was dark out, as the moon was partially covered by clouds, and the snow crunched underfoot, making the trek to the castle that much harder. He had just reached the hidden back entrance when he became aware that he wasn't quite alone. There was a slight outline of a person leaning against the outside wall and Bill pulled out his wand.

"Show yourself!" he demanded.

The camouflage charm was lifted, revealing the figure of Draco Malfoy who was smirking slightly, nonchalantly propped against the stone wall with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Need a hand?" Draco asked, taking a drag.

"What are you doing here?" asked Bill, slightly testily. He had a hard, trying night, had an extremely injured spy on his hands, and now was being confronted by the son of the very same man who served the madman Bill was spying on.

Draco cocked an eyebrow at the tone in his voice and Bill saw the eyes cloud over slightly in reaction to the harsh words. Bill had to check himself, knowing that even though right then was not a good time to have a chat with the kid, just telling him off would most likely ruin any progress he had made so far.

He took a breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "But Snape's hurt pretty badly and-"

"Is he conscious?" asked Draco, interrupting.

"No, he wouldn't even rouse to ennerv-where are you going?" Bill asked as Draco pushed off of the wall and started walking in the direction of the forest.

Draco turned around, still walking. "Well, if he's unconscious I can heal him without him knowing that I healed him." He turned back around and started jogging.

"You can heal him?" Bill called after him.

Draco turned again, now jogging backwards. "I'm a genius!" he yelled up. "Now are you coming or what?"

Bill hesitated a moment, before sprinting to catch up with the kid who was now running for the woods and Draco fell back slightly so that Bill could take the lead since he knew where the spy was. Bill stopped when he reached the tree Snape was under and pulled the invisibility cloak off the spy. The breathing was even worse, if possible. Draco dropped to his knees on the other side of the Professor and pulled out his wand. Bill joined him on the ground, watching Draco a little warily.

"Hold this," Draco ordered, thrusting the cigarette in Bill's direction. Bill took the stick of nicotine as Draco ran his wand over Snape's body, stubbed the cigarette out in the snow, and then turned back just as Draco frowned.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concern rushing up.

"Give me a moment," said Draco. He placed his wand on Snape's chest and then closed his eyes. There was a soft glow for a moment and Snape's breathing began to ease. Bill watched as Draco's forehead knit in concentration and then his face seemed to go pale. He reached out in alarm, but Draco opened his eyes and removed his wand.

"You alright?" asked Bill in concern.

"Yeah," said Draco, blinking rapidly as if dizzy and trying to right himself. "Just forgot how much healing takes out of you."

"What did you do?" asked Bill.

"His lung was punctured by his broken ribs," said Draco. "I put the ribs back in place and healed his lung. You can take him up to Pomfrey now."

"You just healed a punctured lung?" asked Bill.

"Yeah," said Draco, shrugging slightly. "I read it in a book."

"You read how to heal a punctured lung in a book and you did it?"

"And put his ribs back into place and stimulated the reproduction on red blood cells in his bloodstream," said Draco. "Do you have my-"

"Put it out," said Bill. "You do know they kill you, don't you? You aren't an addict are you?"

Draco shrugged. "Confiscated them from a mu-Muggle born witch. Figured I needed something to do while I waited."

Bill caught the slight stutter, sure that Draco had just stopped himself from saying 'mudblood' but didn't comment on it.

"Well, don't start now," he said.

"There is no chance in hell I'll ever become an addict," said Draco, his eyes clouding over as if remembering some particularly bad memory. "Anyway," he continued, his expression guarded again, "you'd best get Snape up to Madame Pomfrey. The broken ribs were clean breaks so they healed nicely and so shouldn't leave a scar she would notice. You should be able to levitate him now."

Bill cast the charm on Snape and then grabbed the invisibility cloak. Draco made no move to get up.

"You coming?" Bill asked.

"Figured I wait until you get into the castle before heading out so no one sees us together," he said.

Bill nodded. "Don't stay out too long," he said. "And get right to bed. You look tired."

Draco smirked, though it was a softer gesture. "And I'll brush my teeth before going to bed as well." His tone was slightly mocking and Bill smiled.

"Good night Draco," he said.

"'Night," said Draco, shifting so that he was leaning against the tree.

Bill moved off, floating Snape behind him, though when he got to the castle he draped the invisibility cloak over the Potions Master and brought the spy to Pomfrey. He then retired to his room, writing out the code for his next class. He fell asleep still in his chair, a smile on his face when he remembered Draco's use of Muggleborn and not Mudblood. Perhaps he was changing.

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