A/N: Yeah, I know I was debating between no slash or slash…it has been decided. This story will have slash (because I'm addicted to Guns and Handcuffs I'm afraid)…though it'll be minor and not what the whole story is based around. And on with the show!
OH! And Moonlit Eyes isn't the Remus/Bellatrix SCUSA ship name. It's the Remus/Trelawny ship name…that doesn't comfort me though…sigh
Bad Faith
Chapter One
Harry Potter decided that he hated the Malfoys.
Strike that, he already hated them.
Harry Potter decided that he really hated the Malfoys. His newest reason, however, had nothing to do with the family members. It was their mansion that gave him another excuse to want to rid the world of them. Malfoy Mansion, in all it's wondrous glory, was extremely annoying to break into.
Narcissa Malfoy's instructions had sounded easy enough before. First enter the grounds through the second blue gate by the stables. Walk along the stone wall till coming to a wooden door with Ivy covering it's edges. Enter the door to come into the kitchens. Show vile of blood to house elves to let them know you're invited. Enter cellar on left. Pull out the only bottle of wine from the year 1466 to reveal a hidden passage. Go down passage to enter the no longer used servants quarters from when having human workers was trendy. Draco will be found in one of the rooms there. Do not open the doors with red ribbons.
Of course, in Harry Potter's world, nothing was ever as easy as it sounded.
Now, here's Harry's revised instructions: First enter the grounds through the second blue gate by the stables. Note that the first and second blue gates are exactly alike and touching the wrong gate will lead to a rather painful stab to one's hand, via invisible thorns. Careful when passing stables or else be prepared to run for your life from guard dog till it's leash runs out. Walk along the stone wall till coming to a wooden door with ivy covering it's edges. Note that dropping the vial of blood that works as a guest pass will cause Ivy to believe you are an intruder. Failure to pick up the vial off ground quickly enough will result in near death via strangulation. Show vile of blood to house elves to let them know you're invited before they use magic to slam you against the wall. Enter cellar on left. Pull out only bottle of wine from the year 1466 to reveal a hidden passage. Note that the dates on five bottles are smudged and grabbing the wrong bottle from the 1460's and 1490's will result in you landing roughly in front of the first blue gate by the stables. Go down passage to enter the no longer used servants quarters from when having human workers was trendy. Note that the ghosts of wronged former members of the Malfoy staff still linger and will try to run you off (via heckling, screaming, crying, and throwing of the occasional random object) until you cross a red line towards the end of the quarters where they can't enter. Do not open the doors with red ribbons. Note there are at least fifty doors without red ribbons.
Harry couldn't help but think that Narcissa Malfoy had purposely only told him as little as she did. In fact, as he opened the third to the last door in the hallway, he also couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, this was an elaborate trap of some sort. It would make sense. Really, Harry could see it now. Voldemort and Narcissa Malfoy, huddled over a campfire, plotting how to drive Harry Potter mad enough to throw himself off the second floor balcony in Malfoy Mansion after realizing Draco Malfoy wasn't even in the damn servants quarters to begin with.
Strike that, he really, really hated the Malfoys.
"Anything in there, mate?" Ron asked tiredly as he trailed into the room behind Harry. Harry just waved his light around the empty room before sighing.
"Nothing." He walked back out into the hallway, ignoring the grumbling coming from his redheaded friend. Harry walked passed the next door with a bright red ribbon on the handle and went straight for the last door. It wasn't till he realized this door was a little different that he allowed a small hope to flare inside. The door was stuck. All the other doors had been easy to open but this one. Did that mean there was something hidden on the other side? It couldn't be that simple, could? Newly found energy rushed to him as Harry began to slam his weight against the door. It took a couple of tries but eventually the door gave way with a loud bang and Harry stumbled inside.
For some reason this room lit up brighter from the light in the hallway than the other nearly pitch black rooms he'd encountered. Wand raised, Harry scanned the room quickly.
"Bloody hell," Ron exclaimed, "is this the last room down here? This place is too big!" Ron exclaimed. Harry was about to agree before seeing the trembling form to his left against the wall. He stood motionless in the doorway, making sure to keep his wand trained on the figure that was hiding its face with long black sleeves.
"Harry? What is it? Is there something inside?" Hermoine's voice drifted closer as she tried to make her way into the room. Harry slowly walked forward.
"There's someone inside!" Harry held his breath as a pair of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen peered slowly over a shaking hand. But wait, could that have been? Weren't Malfoy's eyes silver?
"Potter?" The voice that almost timidly spoke was unmistakably the same voice that had insulted Harry every school day since he was eleven. They'd found Draco Malfoy. Though the young heir looked nothing like the same boy from school. Harry began to wonder what was going on. He could hear Ron and Malfoy talking, but the words didn't registering through his slight wonderment at his rival's state in appearance. Ragged clothes hanging on a thinner frame. Sleep deprivation written on a pale face in dark lines. Hair clumped together haphazardly from lack of care. But that wasn't the part that held Harry's attention the most. Instead it was--
Alarm bells rang in Harry's mind as he realized that Malfoy was standing up with a wand clutched in his hand. The stunning spell was fired before Harry even realized he'd moved and he watched as Malfoy fell forward, landing with a thump on his side before his head snapped onto the hard floor.
"Harry killed Malfoy!" Ron cried out merrily.
"I only stunned him." Harry muttered.
"Then he should only be stunned not passed out, Harry." Hermione said while she started to check the unconscious boy's pulse…just in case. "Well, who's carrying him? It'll be easier to wake him in the hallway. There's more light to watch him," she pointed out, her gaze full of suspicion as she regarded the now unconscious Malfoy. Harry and Ron played rock, paper, scissors (Ron was rather fond of the game after Hermione showed it to him).
Ron lost.
--
There were a lot of things Draco Malfoy wasn't used to as a result of his pampered childhood; despite growing up in a rather unfriendly environment. One of those things was passing out from hunger and extremely stressful situations. He'd never gone more than a day without eating, even more so he'd never skipped a meal against his will. Staying locked in that dreadful room for so long left him with only so much food, and Draco thanked whatever higher power that may exist that Severus Snape had just enough intelligence to remember something useful. He'd only complained a little at the beginning for the lack of taste in the food selection (goodness knows the man had no taste buds left after spending so much time testing his sickeningly disgusting potions). After that, Draco decided to complain that there was no caviar to go with the stale crackers he'd grown fond of. At the very least there should have been cheese…
Another thing Draco Malfoy was not used to was spending so long wearing the same clothes. He'd always made a point making sure his appearance was just perfect enough to prove his status…and then some. His clothes were tailored in such a way they'd never look good on anyone else. His fashion sense was down to a 't.' So it was, of course, rather irritating when by day three the rumpled cloth began to itch and his hair was turning out to be annoying after grease and left over gel proved to be a bad mixture. He knew he'd be scared to look into a mirror first chance he got. That is, if he lived to look into another mirror again.
Then there was something Draco Malfoy was most definitely not used to and had believed it would forever stay that way; though it had nothing to do with his upbringing. It came to be quite a shock when it happened as well. Slowly he had become more aware of that around him and realized he'd passed out. Why there was light suddenly burning beyond his eyelids, Draco couldn't figure out nor did he care to. His body ached from lying on top of the stone floor and his left check hurt something awful. He'd never cared too much for pain, it just didn't sit well with him. He'd just hoped there wasn't a bruise there. Not that there was anyone to see it, but still just the knowledge that it was marring his skin left hi--wait, light? That meant he wasn't in the room anymore. But how did he get out?
Opening his mouth, he prepared to voice his concern but all that came out was an undignified "What the…" that sounded more like a moan. Draco heard rustling nearby and, fighting the pain of seeing more light than a lumos for the first time in however long, he slowly opened his eyes and saw the dreadful 'something.' "GRANGER? What the hell? Get away from me!" He quickly sat up and tried to scramble away but a rough set of hands grabbed his shoulders, effectively keeping him in place. Looking around, he saw it was none other than the Weasel, Potter sitting not to far away with two wands in his possession. Draco hoped that waking up to this would be a nonrecurring nightmare.
Wait. Two wands? "Is that…?"
"Yes, your wand," Potter spat out quickly. "Like I'd let the enemy keep a weapon. Honestly, Malfoy, do you really think I'm that stupid?"
"Well, yes. I thought I made that clear at school." Draco sighed dramatically. "Great, captured by Gryffindork's Golden Boy and his two sidekicks Weasel and Bookworm." The hands suddenly gripped harder than necessary. "Ouch, watch it."
"You watch it, Ferret," Weasely growled from behind.
"Ron," Granger said warningly, though Draco could see she was itching to give him her own opinion.
"Oh well," Draco straightened his robes the best he could with the brute's hands gripping his arms. "I suppose this is the best-case scenario. Merlin knows I'd be dead or close to if the Death Eaters found me. And if the Aurors had come I would be off straight away to Azkaban because," he paused for a moment, waving his hand to help emphasize the obvious, "you know, of course."
"What makes you think we won't be worse?" Potter said with what Draco considered to be a poor attempt at a menacing glare.
"Because the three of you together haven't a wicked bone in your body." Draco said matter-of-factly. "I know that, even though you're a step away from common barbarians, I am better off being found by you three." He smirked at them each before looking down at his nails. How unkempt they'd become, he thought and decided to try not thinking about how the rest of his self appeared.
"You're not off the hook yet, Malfoy," Granger said abruptly. "We need you to--"
"You need me? Oh, I am so flattered," he said deadpanned. "Need me to provide information on the Death Eaters? Or perhaps you have use of some of my talents? Because you know how generous I am, after all."
"Shut up, Malfoy! We need you to show us around this place." Draco raised an eyebrow at Hermoine's outburst. He didn't hesitate to answer.
"No."
"Listen, Malfoy. The only reason we bothered finding you is because your mother said it was the only way we'd survive this place. So if you eve--"
"Wait!" Draco's heart sped up at the mention of his mother. The words 'she's alive' swirling rapidly through his head made him frantic as he leaned forward. "My mother is alive and safe? You'd better tell me she's safe!"
"She's safe, Malfoy," Granger said softly, her sympathy looking a little forced. "Mrs. Malfoy is being kept somewhere secret right now."
"Yeah, and if you cooperate you might just see her again," Weasel whispered coldly from behind causing Draco to tense up. Oh how he wanted to punch the smug sounding face in! That wasn't an option, however, and Draco, though he'd lost his composure for a second, was still a Malfoy who always keeps the situation in his control. Look calm and collected and always think of the options available. Currently there was only two options. Option one: Draco could believe them and find a way to his mother's side. Option two: Draco could not believe their words and disgusting faces, and try to figure a way to finding his mother's real location himself. Considering how generous they'd been towards him in the past, Draco didn't take very long to decide.
"I don't believe you. You want something from me and you're willing to tell me anything to get your way, right?" He allowed a smirk to come across his face and made sure to keep eye contact with Potter. "I'm disappointed with your method, Potter," his smirk slid off to reveal a sneer, "and here I thought you'd grown a backbone with the Dark Arts. What with you knowing and using spells that almost gave the Bloody Baron an equally bloody companion." Draco felt a surge of triumph come from the sight of Potter's suddenly uncomfortable appearance. "You taught me a hard lesson that even the Golden Boy can kill som--" a sharp pain cut through his cheek as his body wrenched left and away from Potter's stretched fist. The only thing holding him up was Weasley's grip on his shoulders. "There we go!" Draco brought a hand up to wipe the blood from his lip. "Violence can certainly get your way, can't it?" He flinched at the sight of Potter raising his hand again before dropping it. Draco looked at the hand curiously and with mistrust.
"Shut up, Malfoy," Granger hissed. "Oh Harry, are you okay? Don't listen to him, he's only trying to upset you. You know how he works!"
"Yeah, mate, don't let this trash get the best of you. Though that was a mean left hook you gave him!" Leave it to Weasley to be excited by violence, Draco thought wryly as he kept note of the curiosity in tag-alongs A and B's voices. Was Potter keeping secrets from his friends? This could be useful.
"Listen, Malfoy, you're going to help us search for what we need and you're going to keep your mouth shut while doing it," Potter said slowly. Draco resisted the urge to be affected by the determined anger found in the other's green depths. "That is, if you really care to see your mother again."
Draco bristled at the comment. "Listen, I already told you I don't believe you so just--" Whatever else Draco was about to say died on his lips as Harry held out his hand. There, laying on a calloused palm, was a silver chain that had three charms clinging on. Draco carefully took the piece of jewelry as if it a holy relic and cradled it in his hand. It was a gift he'd gotten for his mother's birthday several years before. The charms were symbols of protection, since he'd promised he would always protect her, but the middle one was the most important. The fact that the small circular charm had a light blue glow in it's center meant that it held a message from him. He lightly stroked the charm with his thumb and held his breath as his mother's voice slipped softly into his mind…
"Draco, my son, if you have this then that means those children haven't failed me. I'm safe, don't worry about me. I'm being held by the Order of the Phoenix as a bargaining chip against your father and Bella. As much as your father loves us, I doubt he will come out of hiding for my sake now. As for my sister, she is far too loyal to the Dark Lord to come to my aid. Don't worry, I've convinced my captors that I am withholding information they seek so I'll be kept safe from the Death Eaters for now. Just humor those children and you will be brought to me soon.
Draco, please don't blame yourself for my current state. I would be in danger even if you did complete your task. You sold your soul to that demon in order to protect me, though I wish you didn't, and I couldn't ask for a more loyal and loving son. You are all I have, Draco. Please, be safe. I want to see you one more time before I die."
Draco felt his eyes begin to itch from tears but shook it off. Lead them around the mansion and they'll take him to see her? He could do that. He could do anything for the sake of the one person he held closest to his heart. 'We're all we have,' his mind whispered the words softly as always since he was small.
"Granger, the time." He didn't look up from the anklet.
"Almost eight." He nodded in confirmation and began to clasp the trinket to his ankle, watching it resize itself to fit perfectly.
"Right then, we don't have much time. We'll have to find a safe place for the night, I'll show you wherever you wish to go in the morning." Draco stood and began to show them the way out of the basement. They would stay in his rooms for the night. He was not going to spend another moment in this place without a proper shower and clean clothes.
"Wait, Malfoy," Potter roughly grabbed Draco's left arm. "We don't have time for games. I just want to get this over with." Draco sneered at the words before turning slightly to glare at the offending hand, suddenly he realized that he didn't have the energy to do anymore then that. Shower, food, and then bed.
"That's really determined and brave of you, but I'd rather be locked in that room again then to wander through these halls after sunset," the Slytherin prince looked up emotionlessly into green eyes. "Now, if you wouldn't mind letting go of my arm, I'd like get out of this filthy hallway."
"But--" Potter began but was cut off by Granger.
"Harry, remember what Mrs. Malfoy said. Besides, we've had a long day. It would be better to look around when we're more rested."
Potter looked like he was going to protest more but instead he just huffed and dropped Draco's arm like a dirty rag. 'It pretty much looks like a dirty rag anyway.' Draco giggled softly at his own joke, ignoring the looks it caused as he turned back towards the exit.
"By the way, Malfoy, what the hell did you do to your hair?" Weasley asked abruptly after a moment of silence. Draco stopped at his question, confusion written on his face.
"What are you talking about, Weasley?" So he couldn't cut it or wash it, surely it wasn't bad enough to earn attention by someone who shared Draco's loathing.
"Is it a glamour?" Great, now Mudblood was joining in.
"Please do excuse me for not being able to wash it. It's a little hard when you're trapped in a room without certain facilities," Draco replied, his eyebrow rising in annoyance. He almost added a remark that had something to do with his hair still being cleaner than the lot of them, but one glance at Potter slipping his wand into a backpack had him biting his tongue.
"Not washing your hair for a month wouldn't turn pure blond hair black, Malfoy," Potter said annoyed, his fa--wait.
"What did you say?" Draco felt a tremor crawl up his spine.
"Your hair, it's black. Like mine," Potter tapped his own hair curiously.
"Impossible, my hair hasn't been black since…" There it was again, that fear that pushed at your stomach till you were sick and dizzy and squeezed your throat. Draco forced it down. Fear was weakness and he was in the presence of enemies, he could not afford to give them weapons against them. There was a war going on after all.
"Wait, you dye your hair?" Weasley cackled. "So you're not a natural blond? You'd have to be the first Malfoy ever to not be blond!"
"Shut up, Weasel!" Draco said as he held a few strands of his hair within eyesight. It was black as coal. The only way that could have happened would be if… "Oh no, no, no, nooo…" Draco moaned. The fear was clawing it's way back. "We have to leave. We can't stay here."
"What? No way!" Potter yanked him closer by the arm. "There's something I'm looking for and I'm not leaving till I either have it or I'm sure it's not here."
"What are you looking for that's so important?" Draco snapped.
"None of your business." Weasley and Granger hovered closer.
"I wasn't talking to you, Weasel." Granger opened her mouth. "You either, filthy Mudblood." He gasped as the arm gripped tight enough to leave bruises.
"Keep your mouth shut, Death Eater," Potter said warningly. "Now listen here, you're going to show us around or else."
"Or else what? I'd rather not have this place turn into my grave, Scarhead."
"Or else we'll leave you here and you'll never see your mother again." Potter's voice was laced with promise. Guilt filled Draco as he realized he'd almost forgotten about his mother. He never felt the urge to hit someone as much as in that moment. "I'll do it too. So just remember to show us around like a good little host and behave." Draco yanked away his arm, hate overwhelming the fear in his heart.
"Fine," Draco sighed dramatically. "Why does this always happen to me?" He shrugged and walked away, not even bothering to acknowledge his out of character attitude. Part of him felt a little worried for himself, but then he remembered just where he'd been for the past-- "Nope, no. Can't think about that. Let's go," he glanced around before nodding at the dead end of the hallway, "this way. Come along, children." He walked gracefully straight through the wall and found himself facing two different stairways. "Two stairways? Granger, the time again." He felt a rather rude jab into his ribs and scowled. "Please," he said the word with disgust.
"Five after, why?" Her question was ignored.
"This way," Draco said absently, though his gaze lingered on the second stairway to the left. There was only supposed to be one. The Mansion was shifting on it's own.
He led them up the stairs, though the task was harder then it should have been. Months without food, exercise, and proper sleep had left him suddenly regretful that his rooms were on the second floor of the opposite side of his current location. He tried to trek up the old, abandoned stone stairs as fast as he could but still he could feel the forceful prodding from one of his captors in his back whenever his steps slowed down. Nearly panting, he almost cheered aloud when suddenly he found himself facing the wooden door at the end.
"Keep moving, Malfoy." A voice said from behind, though who had said it Draco didn't really pay attention enough to know. He was too busy staring at the portraits in the room.
"Malfoy? Malfoy!" Potter shook him roughly. "What is it? We haven't got all day, you know."
"Harry! Look!" Draco saw Granger pointing out the portraits from the corner of his eye.
"The portraits, they're crying," Draco said to himself, "they're crying for me."
"Why?" Granger took a cautious step forward.
"Never mind, we haven't much time," Draco turned and began walking towards his room, determined to look everywhere but the walls along the way.
TBCWOOOO!!! UPDATE!! OMG! Deathly Hallows in less than a week away! I'm so excited! I've been running about in my Slytherin school robes like no tomorrow. Ha ha! Anyway, I woulda updated sooner…but my roommate and I don't have a computer that's able to get online so it's been kinda hard having to drive all the way to my parents' house to write. Oh woe be me. Anyway…