Summary: In the third year of the war, Draco is discovered as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Snape brings him to Grimmauld Place for safety. But months of being locked in a house with Potter take their toll, and soon both boys are in over their heads.
Pairing: Harry/Draco. If you don't like it, don't read it.
Warnings: Sexual content. Language.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything affiliated with his world belong to J.K. Rowling.
Betaed by YaoiFanGirl101
Draco was so engrossed in his book that he didn't hear the trio return.
"Where could he be?"
"He couldn't have left; you'd have felt it in the wards."
"Do you think he died?" Smack.
"Honestly Ron." Draco sighed, but he didn't stop reading. With a flick of his wand, he opened the door to the library. The sound of footsteps stopped. Draco thought that since a member of the Black family was in the library, the wards were nullified, but he wasn't certain. If the wards reacted badly and hexed the trio, Draco wasn't too fussed.
"How'd he get this door open? I've been trying for months!" Granger sounded cross.
"Dark Magic, I'd bet." Weasley spoke as if this confirmed all his suspicions. The three of them entered the library, and all talking ceased. Granger's expression was one of pure ecstasy.
"Sweet Merlin, think of all the information in here," she whispered rapturously. Potter and Weasley were less impressed with the books, however.
"How the hell did you find this, Malfoy?" Potter snarled. "How'd you get the door open?" The war had done nothing to improve Potter's temper.
"I used my secret powers of Dark Magic," answered Draco. Potter moved forward in a manner intending to be threatening, but which didn't scare Draco at all. Really, it didn't. "The wards require someone of Black blood to open the door. I'm half Black."
"But Ron's a pureblood, why couldn't he open the door?"
"I'm going to assume that you are implying all Purebloods are inter-related, and not that Weasley is a Black." Draco gave an elegant little shudder at the thought and felt Potter's and Weasley's temper rise in response. "My mother was a Black, I have far more Black blood than Weasley."
"I suppose you think that makes you better than me," growled Weasley.
"No, actually. I require no proof to know that I'm better than you," sniped Draco. Draco and Weasley continued to glare at each other until Granger pulled Weasley away. The trio moved to explore the library. Granger made happy little noises every once in a while. Potter and Weasley kept shooting Draco what they thought were covert suspicious looks. Draco sighed, picked up a few books and left.
Draco stayed up late reading, so it was almost eleven o'clock when he woke up. His father would have been ashamed to see a Malfoy let the morning go to waste, but his father could get stuffed for all Draco cared. It just wasn't natural to do anything before nine o'clock at the earliest. Draco went down to the kitchen and found it deserted, just the way he liked it. He called Kreacher and ordered bacon and toast with some tea.
Kreacher kept giving Draco rapturous glances that were a far cry from the way he look at Potter.
At least Potter's house-elf thought Draco was better than Potter. Weasley came into the kitchen and glared when he noticed Draco. Fan-bloody-tastic. Weasley looked at Kreacher, appeared to inwardly debate asking Kreacher to make him something too, and decide against it. He approached the counter and started getting in Kreacher's way. Draco glared at this back. If anything happened to his breakfast, Weasley would pay. At least Kreacher's mutters of "blood traitor" and "disgrace" were heartening.
Kreacher brought Draco's breakfast over and Draco dismissed him. The sounds of Weasley banging around continued. Draco ignored the sounds and took a sip of the tea. It was a tad bit cold this morning and Draco was about to call Kreacher back and have it fix it when he noticed Weasley. He was staring at Draco with a funny look on his face.
"How's your tea, Malfoy?" he asked, and grinned. Draco immediately spat out the little left in his mouth but it was too late. He'd already swallowed several mouthfuls. He could feel a numbness spreading through his mind, and realized Weasley had put veritaserum in his drink. The worst thing about veritaserum was you were still conscious, but you had no control over what came out of your mouth. You knew you weren't supposed to be telling these things, but you couldn't help it.
"What's your name?" Weasley asked. Draco could practically hear the triumph dripping from his words.
"Draco Abraxas Orion Malfoy," Draco said tonelessly. Weasley burst out laughing. Draco personally thought that was a bit rich coming from a guy with the middle name of Bilius.
"Do you know who I am?'
"Yes." Weasley waited, obviously expecting Draco to go on. When this didn't happen (Draco had no intention of making this easy for him), he said.
"What's my name?"
"Ronald Bilius Weasley." Damn the veritaserum for not allowing the proper spite and scorn to adorn his words.
"Good, the veritaserum seems to be working."
"And isn't that just smashing?" said Draco. Weasley continued on as if there was no interruption, and Draco realized there hadn't been. The veritaserum prevented him from speaking unless asked a question.
"Why are you here?"
"I was having breakfast." Weasley growled in frustration and Draco felt a small amount of satisfaction at ticking him off so completely. A very small amount.
"Why are you at Grimmauld Place?" Weasley asked from behind his teeth.
"Snape brought me here." Weasley decided to try a different tack.
"Why does Hermione trust you?"
"I have no idea." It was true. Draco supposed it was Dumbledore's letter, but he couldn't say any speculation unless properly prompted. Weasley threw up his hands in frustration. It was his own fault for being a bad investigator.
"Are you a Death Eater?" Ah, that was question Weasley should have started with.
"Yes," slipped out before he could stop it. Technically, Draco was a Death Eater; he had the Dark Mark. He just wasn't working for the Dark Lord. Weasley was a terrible interrogator. Plenty of people served the Dark Lord but didn't carry the Mark. Meanwhile, Weasley's eyes had widened and he crowed with triumph.
"I knew it, I was right! I bet you never expected Ron Weasley to discover your secret plot."
"No." If Draco had had a secret plot, he would never have bet Weasley would figure it out. Weasley, though, obviously hadn't meant it as a question, and he didn't look pleased with the answer.
"I suppose you think you I'm not as smart as you, not as good as you because I'm just a blood traitor?"
"No, I think you're not as smart as I am because of every exam we took at Hogwarts. I couldn't care less about your blood." Weasley was not expecting that.
"You—you don't care about blood? Since when?"
"I spent the last two years with the Death Eaters, the Dark Lord's finest, the Purebloods. And not one of them could best Granger in a duel, besides maybe Aunt Bella. Those pathetic excuses for wizards are following a madman. A half-blood is in charge, the two most powerful wizards in this war are half-bloods. I learnt not to value blood when my father turned against me. Power and money are far more important." Weasley was staring at Draco with his mouth open.
"You think You-Know-Who is a madman, but you still follow him?"
"Yes, I think the Dark Lord is a madman, but no, I don't follow him."
"You just said you were a Death Eater." Draco didn't answer; it hadn't been a question. "How is that possible?"
"Being a Death Eater means you carry the Mark, not that you serve the Dark Lord." Weasley's mouth was open again. He'd start collecting flies soon.
"You don't serve You-Know-Who?"
"No."
"You're not a spy for You-Know-Who?"
"No."
"You—you," Weasley seemed to be having trouble finding his next question, "you're not working for you He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
"No." Draco repeated. Weasley sighed.
"I guess Hermione was right about you then. You're still a prick, though." Weasley's face suddenly brightened. His orange hair and large features took on a demonic glow. "And I have you on veritaserum, all to myself." Draco's stomach got even more knotted. "What's your most humiliating moment?"
"When Professor Moody turned me into a ferret." Draco tried to convey, through his monotone, the depth of his hatred for Weasley. He suspected he failed, utterly. Weasley crowed with laughter. Draco wished the floor would open up and swallow Weasley, and then crush him into a thousand little pieces.
"What's it like-"
"What's going on?" Granger asked, as she and Potter entered the room. Weasley froze, looking like a deer in the headlights. Granger's eyes narrowed as she waited for an answer.
"Uh, nothing, just having a, err, chat with Malfoy here."
"So you're not fighting?" she questioned. Weasley seized on the unexpected out.
"'Course not, just a friendly chat." Weasley tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. Potter was staring at Draco, though.
"Okay there Malfoy? You look a little off. Conversation with a blood traitor that painful for you?" Draco supposed his stare was blank and glassy, and his head was rolling on his shoulders like most veritaserum victims. But this was his chance.
"No, I'm not alright. Weasley put veritaserum in my drink. This conversation was very painful, but not because Weasley's a blood traitor."
"What? Ron!"
"Oh, come off it, Hermione. He's just saying that to turn us against Ron, right Ron?" Both Potter and Weasley looked at Weasley expectantly, waiting for him to deny it. But Weasley's ears were as red as his hair and he looked as shifty as Draco had ever seen him.
"I-err-well, I had to, mate. I mean, all we had to go on was Snape's word that he was on our side-"
"And mine," piped up Granger, outraged.
"And my dream," added Potter.
"Well, You-Know-Who has been known to send you false stuff before, you know. And Harry, mate, you trust far too easily. I mean, we let him in to our bloody headquarters. We deserve to know his true loyalty." Potter looked convinced, but Granger didn't.
"Honestly, Ron. He took an Unbreakable Vow."
"Those can be fooled, remember Snape's with Narcissa Malfoy?" Granger raised her eyebrows again. Draco seethed.
"Well, is he on our side?" Granger was ever the pragmatic one.
"Yes," muttered Weasley, staring determinedly at his shoes.
Potter was still wrestling with his emotions. Sweet Merlin, the git was transparent. On the one hand, he was glad he hadn't welcomed someone working for the Dark Lord into the headquarters. On the other hand, it was so much easier to see Draco as an evil Death Eater instead of a spy for the Order. After all, Draco was a Slytherin. Draco recognized the feeling, although it pained him to have anything in common with Potter, even something as universal as emotion. Draco had struggled with that feeling himself, seeing Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors bending their knees to the Dark Lord. The world wasn't divided into Slytherins, Ravenclaws, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, but it would have made everything so much easier.
Draco had been so focused on Potter that he missed Weasley's blushing explanation as to where he got the veritaserum.
"Hermione, Ron has a point, if I had known he had the veritaserum, I would've given it to him." Hermione threw up her hands.
"And my word counts for nothing, I suppose?" she asked acidly. "What you did was wrong, Ron, especially since you were abusing the privilege, by the sounds of it when we came in."
"But he's a prick!!"
"What you did was wrong, Ron, end of discussion." She turned to Draco. "Come on." Draco followed her dumbly, cursing the veritaserum for taking away his will to resist. Granger left him in his room. Draco sat on the edge of his bed until the veritaserum wore off.