Disclaimer: I asked for the rights to Harry Potter for Christmas, but Santa didn't give them to me.

Chapter Eight

The Reveal

He liked to kid himself that he couldn't understand why he had so easily offered to take part in Dumbledore's elaborate plot that night seemingly so long ago. He liked to pretend that it had been difficult, that the decision had nearly destroyed him, and he would force himself to forget that in reality it had been a no-brainer, it had been easy, because it really shouldn't have been.

The marriage itself didn't bother him. Not really. Not in the way it probably should. And it most definitely should have bothered him; she was the stuck-up, goody-too-shoes Mudblood best friend of the person he had been taught all of his life to hate most in the world. Why would he do anything to help her, to protect her? His blood should have been boiling, his head spinning with anger and frustration. But for some reason, it wasn't.

Sometimes, when you're offered a way out, you'll do anything. He was living proof of that fact.

He didn't want to be told what to do. He didn't want to fight in a war on a side that he did not choose. He didn't want to lose. He wanted choices, options, freedom.

Not blind servitude.

And so, when Dumbledore had come to the manner that night and told him he could help them, he offered himself freely knowing full well the consequences of what he was getting himself into, because his family meant more to him than any Dark Lord or any mudblood ever would. His parents may not have been the most affectionate, or the most compassionate, or the most honourable, but they were still his parents and that counted for more than anything.

There was still time to put things right, to salvage something for themselves. Their roads didn't have to end in death.

Marrying Granger, well that had been enough of a motive.

She was infuriating him, more so than usual recently. The way she acted, the way she spoke. All of it. It wasn't because of the marriage, it was because of her. Just last night she had stormed through the common room with her nose stuck up in the air and dropped an impossibly large pile of books down the stairs. She might as well have destroyed his Firebolt right there in front of him if his reaction was anything to go by.

"You stupid bitch!" he had shouted, jumping up from where he sat in front of the fire. "I'm trying to concentrate!"

"Sorry," she muttered, not giving him the satisfaction of looking at him as she quickly gathered up the fallen books so she couldn't see the fury scrawled across his face. He was always furious. She slammed one book on top of the other, the very sound making the thought of slapping her senseless more appealing each time.

"Sorry? You're not sorry. If you were you'd be more careful. I've never met anyone so uncoordinated. Stupid Mud-."

She interrupted before he could finish, wanting to avoid a confrontation if at all possible. "Maybe if you stopped shouting at me-"

Draco gritted his teeth as she stacked her books one on top of the other, slamming each one down before trying to pick them up again. "Don't even attempt to tell me what and what not to do, Granger."

She stopped at the top of the stairs, books firmly in place this time when he'd sneered her name in that cold, malicious voice that he saved just for her. "Oh whatever, Malfoy," she said, turning to look back down at him. "Have a go, again. You're so angry at me that anything will set you off these days. It doesn't matter what I do. Heaven forbid if I had been too quiet walking through."

"My being angry with you is no different from normal, Granger," he replied tersely, falling back into his seat, thankful that looking at his work saved him from looking at her. He picked up his quill and started writing again, ignoring the sound of her huffed breathing.

His heart thumped in his chest as he focused on the words on the parchment in front of him, on the sound of the crackling fire. There was adrenaline coursing through his veins with enough power that he felt that his skin would be torn apart. He wanted to fight; the urge was desperate and he felt his fists clench as the thought of hurting her clouded his mind. Somehow, he managed to hold himself back.

"You're much worse now," she whispered as she pushed the heavy oak door open.

"I wonder why that is," he said through thin lips as her door slammed shut behind her. He pushed his work aside angrily and grabbed his wand. His concentration was completely destroyed now, thanks to her, and he didn't want to be within one hundred miles of where she was.

It took nearly two hours of fighting humanoid apparations conjoured by his wand in the Room of Requirement before he felt safe enough to leave and not start upon the first person he saw in the corridor, but although his anger was in check it had not disappeared. He hadn't returned to the Common Room they shared, instead spending the night sleeping on one of the armchairs in the Slytherin Common Room.

"You know, people are going to start talking soon if you keep sleeping here."

Draco woke with a jolt to find Blaise Zabini lounging on the opposite sofa, playing with a charmed snitch. His dark skin let off little glow in the dim light, and his eyes looked playful under his mop of jet black hair.

"What time is it?" Draco asked wearily, stretching out his cold and aching muscles.

"Quarter to five," Blaise replied, grinning widely.

Draco didn't find it so funny, and turned in the chair and closed his eyes, attempting to go back to sleep. Blaise didn't seem to get the idea that he wasn't in the mood for talking though.

"It is a little strange, I'll admit. You have this cushy grand bed in a room all to yourself upstairs and yet for the third night this week I've found you asleep in here," Blaise muttered as he let the snitch go and caught it again easily, a bored expression forming on his face as he glanced around the dungeon. "I understand that you must miss us mate, but seriously?"

"I find it odd that you care to interrogate me about this Zabini, at such a ridiculous hour. Ask me at seven."

Zabini shook his head. "Now is fine, actually. I'm quite awake."

"Evidently." Draco sat up and opened his eyes. "Actually, why are you up already?" he asked curiously, turning to watch the only other occupant of the room.

His closest friend let a satisfied smile stretch out across his face and raised an eyebrow. "Scratch that," Draco said quickly as resolution dawned on him, "I don't want to know what her name is."

"Your loss, I was going to recommend her to you actually, but I won't bother if you're not interested. Honestly though, why are you sleeping here? And don't say it's because you really do miss the dungeons, because if I was given half a chance I would trade places with you in an instant for my own room. Only a fool like you wouldn't appreciate what you've been given."

Draco sighed, looking down at the hard stone floor that he definitely did not miss under any circumstances. "It's Granger," he said eventually.

Blaise stared at him for a moment. "The Mudblood? You're hiding down here because of her?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes."

He couldn't suppress the laughter. "Please tell me you're joking, because that is truly ludicrous. Don't let anyone else know that's why you've been hanging around here, you'd never live it down."

"Thanks so much for your support," Draco replied bitterly as he rubbed his tired eyes. "But unfortunately yes, it's because of her." He let out a breath of frustration as his thoughts drifted to her, the anger quickly returning. "I can't bear to be around her, to be in the same place as her. The very idea makes me want to hit her or curse her into oblivion."

He stood and walked over to the fire, throwing a couple more logs on top of the dwindling flame, watching it as it danced for a moment. The feeling of warmth on his front contrasted sharply with the cold on his back; he liked the way it felt different.

"Well, usually I would say that that is completely understandable."

"Usually?" Draco said confusedly, eyes still focused on the fire.

The snitch flew up from Blaise's relaxed grasp and was snatched back again quickly. "So the Head Girl is bothering you. She is after all the annoying, know-it-all Granger and you've despised her since first year so that I get. I can imagine that living in such close quarters to her must be driving your pureblooded, supreme self slightly mad, but you've dealt with much worse."

"Since when did you become leader of the Mudblood fan group?"

"I'm not, thankfully. What I'm trying to say is that she has been a thorn in your side for six years now. What exactly is she doing differently that it forces you to sleep here rather than in your own bed?"

Draco sighed, resting his hands on top of the fireplace. "That's just it, I don't know."

It was so evidently a lie that all Blaise could do was sit there in silence and stare at the back of his friend.

"We're good friends you and I, aren't we?" Draco asked casually, his eyes still on the flames.

Blaise cleared his throat. "Of course we are," he replied, a questioning tone in his voice.

"And I can trust you."

There was no hesitation. "With your life, as I would you with mine."

That satisfied Draco. "Oh sod it then," he said firmly, turning around and looking at his closest companion. "I married Granger to save her life."

It didn't seem to be such a big deal when he said it like that.

Blaise didn't quite see it that way. "You what?!" he said rather loudly as he sat upright with a jerk. The snitch escaped from his hands and he made no effort to retrieve it, leaving it to flutter above his head. At any other time, Draco would have mocked the look of disbelief that Blaise was giving him.

"You heard me. Don't make me say it again."

The shock disappeared from Blaise's face in an instant and he quickly regained his composure. He reached for his wand inside his pocket and muttered as many silencing spells on them as he could remember, as quickly as he could remember. "Are you completely fucking crazy? Do you have any idea how stupid it is to say something like that without taking precautions? Anyone could be listening; foolish! Completely foolish."

Draco didn't seem to care much. He stared silently at his friend, his eyes betraying how lost he felt.

Blaise softened a little when he saw the strain on the other mans features, a look so alien and one he had only seen once before, when they had been much younger. It made him uneasy. They'd been through a lot, both together and separately, yet equally torturous. He knew all too well the pressures of belonging to a family that supported 'the dark side', with no options or choices only unrelenting service and devotion as an offering. Quite simply, it was awful and it was hard, and they could not complain or speak up. If they did, the consequences were devastating.

"That bad, huh?" he said eventually.

The blonde shook his head. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone. You have to keep this to yourself."

"Understood. Who else knows?"

"My parents, obviously. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape..." Blaise coughed to cover his smirk. "The minister that oversaw the service. And you." He added as an afterthought.

Blaise whistled. "Geez. Bloody hell mate, nothing is ever simple with you is it?" Draco smiled at that as he moved to sit back down wearily on the chair he had fallen asleep on earlier, rubbing the back of his head wearily. "Now I can see why you don't want to be anywhere near her."

"Aren't you going to ask why I did it?"

"Well, I assumed you would tell me. No one drops a bombshell like that without explaining the reason as to why. It had better be good, that's all I can say. You don't even like Granger."

"True. And nothing has changed with regards to that, I can assure you." He clasped his pale hands together in his lap and stared down at them, his eyes resting on the ring. "Remember I told you months ago that my parents wanted out of his service?"

Blaise nodded.

"Well, it all started when Snape became involved in a plot the Dark Lord is developing. He's building some sort of weapon, one that uses a wizard or witches power to create a magical force that heightens his own strength. Apparently, he's tried to develop something like this before but never succeeded. For some reason, this time he'sfound a way to do it." He took a deep breath. "He's adamant on who he'll use."

"Granger?"

Draco nodded. "It makes sense; he can kill two birds with one stone by using her."

"Snape is certain about this?"

"Absolutely positive. He's been right before, hasn't he?"

"And wrong," Blaise added, shifting slightly under the intensity of what they were discussing. He wasn't ashamed to say that such talk frightened him. He'd seen many terrible things.

"He's sure."

"Okay. Then what happened?"

Draco swallowed, as memories of that night came back to him. "Snape informed Dumbledore immediately of what he knew. They waited a while, Snape wanted to make certain that such a weapon was under construction. When he discovered it was, well, Dumbledore showed up at our house quite unexpectedly one night soon after and that was that. My father obviously refused to see him, but my mother wasn't so abject to shame. I've known for a long time that they wanted nothing more to do with this war, and if there's any hope for coming out of this alive, it involves Dumbledore. Can you imagine though, the embarrassment my father feels?"

It felt so easy to talk about it, and once he started Draco couldn't stop. "It's not that they've changed their opinions necessarily, far from it. They are just tired of being pawns in someone else's game. My family had a reputation before him, one that stood alone and by itself. Now look at what it has been reduced too; petty followers that he would turn on in an instant. That's not for us."

They shared a look of mutual understanding. Blaise cleared his throat. "So marrying Granger is what, you're bargaining chip? Proof that you're serious about changing sides?"

"Not quite. Dumbledore knows that there is a strong possibility that he can't protect Granger enough to stop him getting her, and he's afraid that if he does get her and use her it will destroy Potter. So, he asked me if I knew of Cruor vitualamenatus, and that was that."

Blaise's eyes widened. As soon as Draco had mentioned it everything fell into place. "You bound your blood to hers to protect her?" he whispered incredulously when he found his voice.

"Yes."

"But that means..."

Draco looked away. "I know what it means. I knew when I agreed, and I know it now. There's no need to say it."

"And you did it anyway, even though you can't stand her? Draco, that's complete bollocks. Why on earth did you say yes? That's too much to ask of anyone."

"Dumbledore only mentioned it as a suggestion; I offered to do it freely. I couldn't think of anything else that would work. It's not about her. It's about my family. This ensures him that we mean what we say when we want out. And if it means my mother survives this, because of this sacrifice I have made, then that's enough for me."

"If he ever found out-"

Draco didn't let him finish. "He won't."

"It might not even work. Protecting someone with blood, that's tricky magic. Unreliable."

"Dumbledore thought it was worth a shot."

A clock chimed someplace in the castle, reminding both of them of where they were. Blaise leant back on the sofa, trying to process all of the information he had gleaned in the last quarter of an hour. It was far more than he expected.

"Wow. I do not envy you in the slightest. I take back what I said earlier about trading places." He took a deep breath. "You really are in the thick of it aren't you. I didn't think Dumbledore would support the use of such ancient magic."

"He'd do anything to protect the Golden Trio." There was most certainly bitterness in those words.

"But what about you? Blood sacrifices only work one way. And if Dumbledore is so convinced that he'll get to her...he's basically handed you a death sentence."

"I know all of this Blaise."

"And she has no idea?" It wasn't so much a question as a statement of fact.

Draco looked away, shaking his head. "What would knowing do for her? I would have done this for anyone if he'd asked me, the fact that it's her is irrelevant."

They sat in silence for a long time after that. Blaise resumed playing with his snitch, but he paid it little attention. His mind was spinning, and he was trying desperately to understand what his friend had done.

"I shouldn't have told you," Draco said eventually, his voice low.

Blaise regarded him for a moment, choosing carefully what he would say. "No, maybe you shouldn't have, but I'm glad you have all the same. I guess I can see now why you don't want to be near her. To do something for someone like her, and have to put up with them and all of their vices when they have no idea what you have sacrificed would drive me nuts. I can't believe you've lasted so long. Even so mate, you can't keep sleeping down here. No one has noticed yet to my knowledge, but if they did they would know something is up. And he has spies everywhere, be certain of that."

Draco stifled a yawn. "I know. I'll just have to bear it. I've dealt with worse." He stood abruptly. "I'm going to go flying for a bit, and clear my head." The toll of sharing so much and so openly had exhausted him.

Blaise stood too. "You have my word that I will keep this completely to myself." He reached for his wand again, and held it out towards Draco, who reached for his own. "On my life," he added, as the tips of the wands came into contact. A spark of magic spread between them, and Draco nodded his appreciation as the pact became official.

"We'll talk later," he promised, sheathing his wand in his cloak.

"Do you regret it?" Blaise called out after him, almost reluctant in asking.

Draco hesistated a moment, thinking of an answer. He was too ashamed to say yes, and so said nothing. And then he was gone.

~o~