DISCLAIMER: All canon characters and the Harry Potter-verse belong to J K Rowling, and all "Malfoy Ambition" related things belong to Goddess Blue. Everything else belongs to me.

WARNINGS: Female Harry, Draco/Harry pairing, spoilers from possibly all the Harry Potter books, slight OOCness, cliches, and a bit of coarse language that will appear here and there.

A/N: Hey y'all! Yeah, sorry for leaving you guys hanging, but if you haven't guessed by now, then let me make it very clear: I'm the sort of author who can never resist a cliffhanger. So ... yeah, you can expect a lot of those from me ;D

Anyway, ladies and gentleman, here in unlucky thirteen - who believes that, anyway? - I'm happy to coughfinallycough present: THE BIG REVEAL, which was a total b!tch to write, by the way. (Also includes a whole lot of explanations and emotional development - which were even bigger b!tches to write.) Hope you enjoy! XD

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: TIPPED ON ITS AXIS

'What are you doing here?'

'There's – there's something I have to tell you ... It's about your engagement.'

She could barely believe that she was actually standing here, in front of Draco Malfoy, ready to reveal a secret she had promised to keep forever. A part of her – and she was sure it was the major one – wanted nothing more than to turn and run, but she had come this far. Fleeing was not an option anymore. Determined not to show any weaknesses, she held her head high and met his piercing gaze steadily, clenching her hands into fists.

Malfoy looked calmly back at her, but through the caution in his eyes, she easily caught a glimpse of the surprise and interest that her words had sparked. He said nothing for a long moment, watching her shrewdly as if he suspected her of falsehood, but eventually he asked in a guarded voice, 'And what do you have to say about my engagement?'

She hesitated for a few seconds, wondering one last time if this was what she should be doing. Isn't this too drastic? Maybe I should've waited and thought more about this... But the entire afternoon and evening had been spent contemplating that dilemma, and she had thought about all the minor details and covered nearly every loophole and … damn, she was rambling in her own mind now.

I'm such an idiot! This has gone on for too long now. I should've done this much sooner. Just stop thinking and get it over with.

Only with that thought to encourage her, Hariah Potter took one more step towards the Slytherin. 'Malfoy, I'm ... I'm you fiancée.'

'Where's Harry?' Hermione asked Ron as she approached the table where he and Ginny were playing Exploding Snap in the Gryffindor common room.

'She took off directly after dinner,' the red-head answered vaguely, dealing the cards. 'I think she said something about wanting to go to the library again. But she said she'd rather go alone this time.'

'The library?' Hermione frowned as she sat down in a nearby armchair and dropped her heavy bag onto the floor. 'But I just came back from the library. I didn't see Harry there.'

'Maybe she left early,' responded Ron with a careless shrug, a little too preoccupied by the cards that were likely to blow up any second. Barely a moment after he had spoken, a mini-explosion took place on the table, sending the flaming cards whizzing in all directions. One hit Ron smack in the middle of his forehead while Ginny lost a few strands of her hair thanks to another minute missile.

'Ow! Bugger blew a hole through my head –!'

'My hair! That little piece of scum –!'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'All right, all right! Spare the poor cards, will you?' she said sarcastically. 'Ron, are you quite sure you don't know where Harry went?'

'I already told you; Harry said she'd be at the library, but if she's not there...'

'Actually, Hermione,' Ginny spoke over her brother, 'she looked kind of preoccupied tonight, even during dinner. I swear she didn't hear a word I said about what some of the students were saying about Defence Against the Dark Arts being cancelled.' She shrugged nonchalantly.

'So, maybe Harry's just gone off somewhere to think about whatever it is that's on her mind or something?' Ron suggested, rubbing his singed forehead.

Hermione leaned back in her armchair, looking thoughtful and anxious. 'Maybe you're right. I mean, Harry looked so upset when she told us about Zabini's ultimatum. That must be giving her quite a headache.'

'What?' Ginny looked up, confused.

Sighing, the bushy-haired girl briefly recounted what Harry had miserably relayed to them about Blaise Zabini and the conditions he had presented her with. 'She's been worried about it ever since lunch today. Harry still doesn't want to tell Malfoy, but Zabini threatened to tell Malfoy himself if she doesn't do it – and soon.'

'That's kind of harsh.'

'Zabini's a git,' added Ron promptly, scowling at the table.

Ignoring her brother, the youngest Weasley turned to Hermione. 'Actually I can see the logic behind his argument, though. But I still can't understand Harry and her ...' she trailed off, frowning. 'Hermione, do you have any idea why she is acting like this?'

'Like what?' Hermione looked surprised.

'Like so ... so immature? I mean, I can understand why Harry doesn't like the idea of being married to Malfoy; their rivalry, bitter history, arch-enemies for seven years and all that. Plus, it was kind of fun seeing Harry all flustered and trying to find an escape,' Ginny added with an amused smile. 'But still, why is she avoiding the problem? It's not helping at all! You already said that you found no way to remove the ring, I told her that Malfoy is the only one who can take it off according to the Prophet, and we all know that he hates her as much as she hates him. If she were to just tell Malfoy the truth, then he'll probably just call off the whole thing and go find another girl. So, why is Harry still refusing to tell him? It's just crazy!' She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. 'I hate to say this about her, but I think she's being a bit of a coward...'

Hermione said nothing when Ginny finished her little speech, but chewed on her bottom lip pensively. Ron was staring at his little sister, slightly open-mouthed. He leaned forward as if to argue with her, but his sibling's logic made too much sense and he gave up, sighing.

'Hermione?' Ginny prompted when the older didn't answer.

A small frown crossed Hermione's features as she finally replied, 'I can see what you mean, Ginny, but I can't agree with you there. I just can't believe that Harry is running away simply because of that; its' not like her. There must be something else...'

'Such as?' It was Ron who spoke this time. He looked at Hermione with genuine curiosity.

'Yes, go on, Mione,' added his sister. 'After all, you seem to know Harry a lot better than she knows herself.'

'Hmm ... Give me a couple of minutes on this one...'

Leaving Hermione to her thoughts, the two Weasleys turned away. Ron gathered his scattered cards again while Ginny tapped her fingers on the table impatiently. He did not deal them, however. Both of them were too engrossed in trying to figure out the inner-workings of Harry Potter's impossible mind, but predictably, it was still Hermione who came out with an answer first.

Hours seemed to have passed before she finally cleared her throat to get their attention. The two Weasleys turned towards Hermione in unison.

'I could only come up with one likely explanation,' she began seriously. 'I think Harry's acting like this because ... maybe she feels that this whole matter was forced upon her.'

Neither Ron nor Ginny said anything for a small while as both of them eyed the other girl with identical cynical expressions on their faces. At length, Ron raised his eyebrows and remarked dryly, 'I might be overlooking something, but ... isn't that true? Wasn't the engagement actually forced on Harry? She got that bloody ring out of nowhere without ever having had asked for it!'

'Yes, that's true,' Hermione nodded her head vigorously, 'but that's not exactly what I meant. I was saying that Harry probably thinks that the ring is forcing her to marry Malfoy! She feels that it is an obligation and ... um, how do I explain it?' She shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts.

'Look, all these years, Harry had a really hard time, didn't she? As a child, she was practically maltreated by her aunt and uncle and never got much independence. And then, after she came to Hogwarts, she was suddenly the Girl-Who-Lived and everyone expected her to finish off Voldemort almost as if it was her duty. There was a prophecy, for Merlin's sake!

'So, can't you see how Harry must be feeling? All her life, she was forced to do something or the other because others expected it of her. She never asked to be a heroine, but nearly the whole Wizarding World depended on Harry to save them from Voldemort. It was unfair to her, but she never really had a choice in those matters.

'But when Voldemort died, Harry probably felt that she was finally free to follow her own path. But then right afterwards, out of nowhere like you said, Ron, she got that engagement ring. And now, I'm guessing that Harry feels that who she should marry is being decided for her; that, once more, her free will is being taken away. She thinks that this engagement will force her into marriage, so ... I suppose that's why Harry's fighting so hard against it. In fact, I don't think Harry herself knows exactly why she's avoiding the issue; it's probably more like a subconscious reaction.'

Finishing her explanation, Hermione looked round expectantly at her small audience. The Weasley siblings stared at her for a minute before Ron mock-clapped and Ginny exclaimed in an overly-exaggerated shriek, 'Oh my, Hermione, you're so smart!'

Ron chuckled. 'Yeah, Hermione, you really do know Harry – and us, too, probably – more than anyone else, don't you? I mean, that was one hell of an explanation!'

Hermione blushed prettily. 'I just care about all of you, that's all.'

'But I think you might be right,' Ginny remarked. 'That would explain Harry's stupidity just so much! Though I still can't understand this: a subconscious reaction or not, shouldn't she realise by now that no one can actually make her marry someone she doesn't want to? Not only is that utterly unethical, but from what I know, enchanted engagement rings are not magical binding contracts. They just find the girl. It's up to the ring owners and their betrotheds to decide on actual marriage or not!'

'I know, Ginny, I know. The only reason why I helped Harry conceal the ring and try to find ways to remove it is because I knew how much Harry didn't want Malfoy to know at first. I did hope that she would come to her senses soon though, but ...'

'Yeah,' Ginny wrinkled her nose. 'She's still fighting it.'

'Well,' Hermione sighed tiredly, 'if Harry really is out thinking tonight as you said, let's just hope that some sense would be knocked into her brains while she's at it.'

'That would be the day,' the red-haired girl snorted.

Even Ron, who still had not changed his mind about Malfoy and his engagement, had to agree with that particular sentiment.

'Malfoy, I'm ... I'm your fiancée.'

The silence that followed her soft declaration was profound and disturbingly oppressive. Harry had to remind herself to breathe through her nose as she gazed apprehensively at Malfoy, waiting for the explosion she had mentally prepared for. Get ready, here it comes...

It never came.

He was just ... staring at her. For a moment, Harry thought he had not understood what she had said, but then she saw the utter shock that had spread across his face. His eyes were wide as he gaped at her in disbelief, shaking his head ever so slightly. Malfoy opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words seemed to occur to him and he shut it again.

Harry fidgeted nervously under his stare, once more resisting the urge to flee. The silence was becoming unbearable. Now would be a really good time for him to say something...

Slowly, almost painfully, Malfoy tore his gaze away from hers and let his eyes rove down her arm towards her bandaged hand. She realised what he was searching for at once. He doesn't believe me, she thought, taking a deep breath to keep her cool.

'You want proof, don't you,' she stated quietly. 'Here it is.'

Ignoring the tiny voice that pointed out that she was giving up her last chance of backing out, Harry tentatively began to unravel the gauze covering her half-healed fingers. Malfoy's eyes followed her every movement and they widened even more when she finally held out her exposed hand. The white-gold ring sparkled beautifully in the moonlight.

There. I've done it. She could only hope that she had done the right thing.

Biting her lip, Harry waited for Malfoy to speak, but he did not say a word. His eyes never left the engagement band on her finger.

Finally deciding to take the initiative, Harry cleared her throat uncomfortably and began, 'Er, yeah ... so, as you can see, your ring came to me ... er, obviously and I ... um ...' Why was she getting all tongue-tied now? She had been mentally practising what she would say to him for hours! Damn. It did not help that Malfoy was looking directly at her again. The shock and incredulity (which made him look surprisingly human as opposed to an Ice Prince) were still present in his normally unreadable eyes, but his penetrating stare was cracking her confidence and coherency of speech.

Harry tried again, 'Yes, so I got your ring and I'm your fiancée a– ... ugh, damn it!' she groaned, realising that she was about to ramble again. To hell with her practised speech, it was getting her nowhere! Spontaneity worked best.

'Look, Malfoy, as – as honoured I am that your ring-thing chose me' – Pfft! Yeah, right! – 'we both know that I'm not the ... er, what was it – oh yeah, the perfect bride for you; or wife, whichever. I mean, you'd probably want a girl that's actually ... well, a girl. Am I right? Like someone who's beautiful and filthy rich and has high social status and acts actually feminine and elegant etc. I'm nothing like that! So, it's quite obvious that this ring made a mistake, right?

'Besides,' Harry continued, her voice rising spiritedly as her mind automatically supplied all the logical arguments, 'I don't like you, you've never liked me, and we're not compatible. We're not even friends or know each other well at all. So, the idea of us getting married is ...' Harry snorted derisively to convey her feelings about the matter, reminding herself not to blow a raspberry at the last moment. Don't go overboard...

'Anyway,' Harry said gravely, looking very seriously at Malfoy as she prepared to bring her line of reasoning to an end, 'I know that, right now, you're probably feeling as disgusted by this whole thing as I am. After all, it's me, and it's not like you're ever going to marry me! So, why don't you just remove the ring now – seeing as you're the only one who can do it, apparently – and we'll just keep this between us and forget it ever happened? You can find another girl and I'll be free to go my own way. We both win.'

A proud smile curved Harry's lips up as she finally finished. Wow, who would have thought? It actually felt good to have revealed everything; and who ever knew that an improvised rant would make so much more sense than a rehearsed one? .

Satisfied, Harry looked at Malfoy expectantly and held out her hand, indicating him to remove the engagement band. She could barely stay still; she'd waited far too long for this moment, endlessly worrying about that accursed ring and what it signified. But now, she would be free again!

'Your ring, Malfoy,' Harry said pointedly when he made no move to touch it. 'Don't you want it back?'

Malfoy said nothing. He had never taken his gaze off her during her passionate speech and he continued to stare at her now. Whatever emotion his eyes had expressed earlier had vanished, and they were aloof and inscrutable again as he stood rooted to the spot. So still was he that he looked almost like a statue framed against the large window.

Harry began to frown as worry set in. Malfoy's unresponsiveness – both verbal and physical – was beginning to feel unnatural. Why, he should have immediately jumped on the opportunity to call off this engagement to his arch rival! By now, he should be threatening her with promises of death and dismemberment if she were to ever reveal this secret to another soul! Wasn't he as eager as she was to escape from this arrangement?

'Malfoy,' Harry tried again, speaking very clearly and slowly. 'Take your ring. Please.'

Silence.

Oh, dear God, I've just shocked him to death, haven't I?! Maybe I gave him a heart attack! Or a stroke! Damn, I should've waited longer–!

It took a moment for rationality to kick in. Calm down, Harry commanded herself mentally. Draco Malfoy had not dropped dead yet. He probably just could not digest the information so fast.

'Um, OK,' she said awkwardly, dropping her hand to her side. 'I know that this must be pretty hard for you to believe, but it's all true. I showed you the ring and you know I'm not lying, Malfoy. But I can understand. You probably need some time to ... er, think everything over; to let it all sink in.' Brushing away a few wayward strands of hair from her face, Harry began to step back. 'I think I should leave now. So,' she tried to shoot him a tentative smile, 'just let me know when you're ready to take your ring back and go find a girl that you actually want to be with, yeah?'

With a short nod, Harry began to walk away hurriedly, trying to ignore his unwavering gaze. She turned her attention back to what she had just done. I can't believe I actually told him! She was still unsatisfied though. From the moment she had first seen Malfoy wandering the corridors and decided to face him, Harry had hoped that she would be free of the engagement before the night was over, but it had not gone according to plan...

Stop worrying, she told herself. He was just shocked. Give him a day or two. He'll come begging for his little ring.

At least, that was what she was thinking until Malfoy's voice, so soft that she barely heard it, sounded from behind her, 'What makes you so sure I don't want to be with you?'

Harry froze mid-stride. 'What?' she breathed, turning around slowly. Had he said what she thought he had said?

Malfoy had not moved from his previous position. But the moment she faced him, he abruptly turned on his heel and hurried away in the opposite direction, leaving a bewildered and thoroughly shaken Harry Potter in his wake.

Did he really say that ... or did I just imagine it?

'Where were you?' were the first words out of Blaise' mouth when Draco stormed into the nearly empty Slytherin common room. 'Slughorn came here asking for you. Seemed quite urgent – hey, what's the matter?' He asked, finally noticing the look on the Malfoy's face.

Draco brushed past his friend without replying and entered the narrow, labyrinthine passage that led off into the boys' dormitories. He heaved a mental sigh of relief when he heard no footsteps behind him. Good, Blaise was not following. It was one of his best traits: he never pushed people and, at that moment, Draco wholeheartedly appreciated that particular quality of Blaise; the last thing he wanted was to talk. At least, not before he had gotten his head straight – and there was a lot of straightening to do.

When he reached the seventh year dormitory, the first thing Draco did was to throw himself onto his bed in a most un-Malfoy-like manner. He did not bother to lock the door. Now that Crabbe was gone and Goyle and Theodore Nott had dropped out because their fathers were proven Death Eaters, the room was only occupied by Draco and Blaise; and he was acquainted with his friend well enough to know that he would not be bothered for the next couple of hours.

At last, when the peace and solitude had calmed his mind and soul somewhat, Draco allowed the thoughts he had been repressing to rise again.

Hariah Potter was the one the ring had chosen! She – his rival – was his fiancée! That one revelation had tipped his entire world on its axis. Everything had turned upside-down.

Sighing, he dragged the back of his hand across his closed eyes. I'm the biggest fool that was ever created. And he could believe that, too. Now that he actually knew his betrothed's identity, he could see how obvious it had been. From the moment he had begun suspecting that Ron Weasley was "protecting" the girl from him, he should have realised that she must be Potter, Granger or Weasley's younger sibling. On top of that, if he considered who would avoid him for four months because he had personally insulted them too much in the past, the choices narrowed down to just Potter and Granger.

What was more, the biggest clue of them all had been literally thrust into his face and he had missed it! He bit his lip as he remembered that night in the library. Ever since the accident, there had been a nagging voice at the back of his head, constantly whispering that he was forgetting something. Draco had successfully ignored it simply because he could remember nothing, but now he finally knew the hint he had missed: that strange warmth he had experienced when Potter had accidentally kissed him, the sensation the ring evoked when he had physical contact with his fiancée! Draco grimaced. His mother had explained that part very briefly, but neither of them had paid much attention because ... well, he could not touch every single girl that crossed his path to find his fiancée after all! But his subconscious had noticed it after the kiss, though his mind had not been able to grasp the truth of the matter. And that made him feel like an even bigger fool.

I should have figured it out long before this! Why didn't I see it?

It was a stupid, pointless question. Deep inside, he knew exactly why he had been so blind. He had always known ... he had just forced himself to try and forget it; tried so hard, in fact, that in the end, his conscious had completely ignored it.

Finally, after so many years in obstinate denial, Draco Malfoy allowed his bottled up memories and emotions to surface again.

Harry ignored the bowl of porridge in front of her as she incessantly stared at the Slytherin table across the Great Hall, searching for a head of white-blond hair. Beside her, she could sense the concerned looks her friends were shooting her, but thankfully, they had not badgered her – yet. It would not be long now, though. Her lack of appetite for breakfast was sure to set Hermione off soon.

Where is he? She wondered, desperately. All morning, she had been waiting for Draco Malfoy to make an appearance so that she would at least have an idea as to how he would respond to her. Not knowing anything at all was sending her over the edge, especially considering his strange behaviour the night before. Something was off.

Once more, Harry wondered if she had made the correct choice by facing Malfoy. It had become an annoyingly recurring question, but she still doubted herself.

I shouldn't, though. I thought of everything! And so she had. Ever since Blaise had laid his challenge at her feet, her entire mind had been devoted to the problem she had been facing. Harry had not even spared a speck of attention during her Charms class the day before (no wonder Flitwick had given her extra homework).

The only thing Harry had initially known for certain was that she did not want Blaise to be the one to reveal her secret; or anyone else for that matter. If Malfoy were to find out from a secondary source, that would only make things so much worse and Harry had enough to worry about on her plate, thanks very much. So, that decision only left ... well, herself. She would have to tell him.

That was like Hermione going up to Lavender Brown and begging her to take Ron back as her permanent boyfriend. Not happening.

So, Harry had done what was possibly the hardest thing she had ever done in her life: figured out her own feelings and sentiments. She wondered dryly if anyone else had realised what a crisis that was. Nothing, not even predicting the moves and plans of Voldemort had been nearly as exhausting as solving the mysteries her own mind and heart presented. But it was amazing how terrifying threats could drive people to dig up what they had not known before, and Harry was quite proud of the progress she had made yesterday. Her earlier actions made more sense than they had before.

At least, now Harry had a more reasonable idea than the "we're-rivals-and-hate-each-other" argument to explain why she had been playing the cat-and-mouse game. She had had to dive into the deepest recesses of her mind to figure that one out (not the easiest feat, that one), but it had eventually become somewhat clear: she had run, because she had felt like she was the mouse – trapped by the cat. That was exactly what the engagement did. It made her feel cornered, confined and helpless, as if there was no escape from it, no choice but to walk the path paved before her, no other alternative ... so of course she had fled and battled against the circumstances as hard as she could.

It was a relief to finally know why she had been driven to run, but that still left the dilemma of to tell or not to tell. Harry did not know for how long she had roamed the corridors last night, contemplating that question. She had struggled to produce rational reasons as to why she should not tell him, but apart from her own personal feelings of being trapped, the embarrassing nature of the whole situation and the thought of approaching him and going "Oh hi, I'm your fiancée and I really enjoy it when you sexually harass me even though I despise you", Harry had been unable to come up with a good defence. (The ones she had produced were not exactly strong, either. How depressing.)

However, she certainly had been able to think of several good reasons as to why she should tell him (much to her chagrin), the first being that Malfoy was the only one who could take off that bloody engagement ring! The other incentives included the fact that not telling him had led her absolutely nowhere and fear of the huge confrontation she would have to face if Blaise told him first. Oh no, she certainly did not want that!

On a less self-centred note, there was also the part where Malfoy deserved to know about her. Harry had to admit that much at least. And when she coupled that with what Blaise had told her about Malfoy's suffering, she could not help but feel a little guilty. She had admittedly been selfish and concealed the truth for months, leaving her unwanted fiancée hanging and desperate. Also, if Ron had been right about Malfoy actually taking the trouble to look for her, then he truly must have been extremely serious about his engagement, and she could sort of imagine the hurt her selfishness was inflicting on him.

But was it so selfish to run away from something I never wanted in the first place?

In the end, only one thing had encouraged her to go for it: So, why won't you tell him? Best case scenario is that he'll be as much repulsed by this engagement as you are and remove his ring from you at once, which, by the way, will save all of us a lot of time and trouble. That was what Ginny had so bluntly told her weeks ago. Even back then, the weight of the pure truth behind those words had struck Harry hard, but only last night had they eventually motivated her to get her act together. It had been fortunate (or, perhaps, unfortunate?) that Harry had come across Malfoy just as she had come to her decision. The moment she had seen him by the window, she had made up her mind to tell him the truth.

The only problem was Malfoy's response. That had caught her completely off guard. She could have handled a yell of 'Why have you never told me?', or even, 'Why the hell would my ring choose a pathetic gypsy like you?!', but his silence ... that had been unnerving, even though she could now accept how shocked he must have been. But what were even more nerve-wrecking were his parting words...

"What makes you so sure I don't want to be with you?"

Harry rubbed her arms as the implication of that simple question set off goosebumps. Maybe I imagined it, but if he really said so, surely he didn't mean ... he cannot mean...! She did not know what to make of it, and her poor arguments were not strengthened at all when she remembered the seemingly deliberate sexual harassment he had subjected her to. Shit. Well, that just messed things up a bit more. Harry had been betting on his loathing for her when she had gone up to him. It had seemed like a sure thing that he would call off the engagement at once, but now ... she was beginning to doubt his hatred and had no idea what to expect from the Slytherin; that is, if he ever decided to join the world of the living.

'Ahem.'

Harry started at the unexpected sound and turned quickly. Ron and Hermione were both staring at her.

'You've been gawping at the Slytherin table for about twenty minutes straight, Harry,' the former began matter-of-factly though the concern in his eyes was poorly veiled. 'Without blinking, too, I might add. That can't be good for your eyes.'

Colour washed over her cheeks. 'Oh ... um...'

'Harry, did something happen with Malfoy?' Hermione asked shrewdly. 'You looked a bit off-colour when you came back to the common room last night.'

'Well, didn't I tell you then that I had just been taking a walk?' She had not been ready to confess what she had done.

'Yes,' Hermione answered, rolling her eyes. 'But, first of all, we know better than to believe what you say when you come back looking as if you'd met a Dementor, and secondly, we have yet to ask what happened during that walk.'

Inwardly cursing Hermione's infuriating intelligence, Harry turned away towards the Slytherins again. She sat up straight when she finally saw Draco Malfoy enter the Great Hall and make his way towards his housemates. Right before he sat down, their eyes met across the room and Harry swallowed slightly as she took in his appearance. Even from that distance, she could see the utter exhaustion on his face and the unruffled state of his hair, as if he had had a rough night.

Harry squirmed slightly as a cold chill fell over her. She could not be sure since he was quite far away, but the look he was giving her did not seem very welcoming. Now what? She wondered uncertainly, averting her eyes. Malfoy did not look like he would come near her anytime soon, but there was no way she would approach him again. It was Malfoy's turn now.

'Harry.'

'What?' she mumbled, looking round at her friends again.

Ron frowned at her. 'You were staring at the Slytherins ... again. No, scratch that; you were staring at Malfoy this time.'

'So what?' snapped Harry, automatically becoming defensive.

Raising his eyebrows sceptically, Ron glanced over at the Slytherin table as did Hermione. It did not take very long before the two of them caught on.

'Shit, Harry, tell me you didn't –!'

'You told him?! Oh, finally! That's wonderful –!'

Harry stared back and forth between her best friends, highly bemused by their different reactions. Ron looked as if he was suffering from an apoplexy while Hermione's happy face was the human equivalent of a rising sun.

'Er, yes, I told him,' she admitted at last, clearing her thought self-consciously. 'Last night.'

Hermione's eyes widened and then she began to laugh merrily. 'And to think that, last night, all of us were talking about how you would never tell Malfoy! How ironic.'

'But I can't believe you did it, Harry,' Ron interjected. 'I thought you hated the git! And why didn't you tell us earlier?'

Sighing, Harry prepared to give a long explanation. However, she made a mental note to never mention the "harassment" and what he had said (or she had imagined he had said) last night. Those were not topics she ever wanted to discuss with them, best friends for life or not.

Blaise leaned against the doorframe of the seventh year boys' dormitory and folded his arms irritably. This must be the sixth or seventh night in a row that he had entered the room after dinner to find Draco Malfoy sprawled on his bed, staring into space. Not only that, but it seemed that Draco was off in his own trouble-filled world even during his waking hours. He had become increasingly more detached and colder than before (how the hell was that possible?! Blaise could practically feel the chill emitting off Draco nowadays) and Blaise was not about to tolerate it any longer.

Honestly, Malfoys are so bothersome. They were so dramatic. Well, fine, so Draco had become more of the aloof and indifferent type after the War, but Blaise still maintained that the blond was a drama queen – he just pulled it off in his own silent style.

'Well?' Blaise prompted when Draco failed to notice his presence. 'Will you talk now?'

Draco turned his head slowly towards his friend. 'What are you on about?'

The brunet rolled his eyes. 'It's been a week since you became an even more oblivious-to-the-world mute, Draco. For how long do you plan on keeping this up before you become normal or at least start talking to me again?'

'I just ... I have a lot on my mind.'

'I can see that!' Blaise snapped. 'But maybe it's time you started expelling some of that out of your system before your health deteriorates even more!'

'What?' Draco sounded confused.

'Oh, Merlin, you don't even notice, do you? You don't eat anything, you're not paying attention in classes, you haven't complained about Weasley messing up your Potions project even once, and I know for a fact that you barely sleep at night. So yes, Draco, I know perfectly well that you've got a lot on your mind, but if I have to beat you round the head with a Beater's club to drag you out of those thoughts for the sake of your health, then I will!'

Groaning, Draco sat up slowly. 'Has anybody ever told you that you fret too much? You're my best friend, Blaise, not my mother.'

'When your mother is not here, then your best friend is the one who qualifies for the position.'

The blond raised an eyebrow. 'Is that your belief? Well, I have a better theory: what if you've got all these maternal feelings because you're actually a woman? Oh, Merlin help us, you're a cross-dresser, aren't you!'

Scowling deeply at the injuring joke, Blaise was about to tell him off when he noticed how Draco's lips had curled up. There was true amusement in his grey eyes which had looked so dull and gloomy lately.

Blaise chuckled, somewhat relieved. 'It's good to finally see you smile, my friend. I had really begun to worry these past few days.'

Draco's smile faltered. 'I'm sorry about that, Blaise,' he said very quietly. Blaise blinked in surprise. It was not everyday that one heard a Malfoy apologise. 'But I –'

'You were preoccupied, yes I know, but ... Look, Draco, you know that I've never been one to pry; I respect people's privacy. But perhaps ...' Blaise hesitated for a moment, 'maybe this time, it would be easier for you if you just talked about your problems with someone? Just a suggestion, though,' he added quickly, seeing the hard expression that crossed the other's face.

Draco stayed silent for so long that Blaise gave up. He was about to leave the dorm when, eventually,

'Hariah Potter.'

Blaise gave Draco his full attention at once. 'What did you say?'

'Hariah Potter ... she's the one. The ring chose her.'

The other Slytherin had to force his jaw not to drop open. 'But how – how do you ...?'

'She told me ... about a week or so ago.'

Blaise gaped at him. 'She ... told you? On her own? Merlin,' he dragged a hand through his dark hair, 'I was beginning to doubt whether she would actually have the gall to do it herself ...'

'What?' Draco said sharply, his eyes narrowing. 'Are you telling me that you knew it was her all along?'

Oh, damn.

'Yes, I –'

'And you never told me all these months?!' Draco barked, leaping to his feet. 'You knew and–?'

'Drake, calm down!' Blaise exclaimed. 'I found out only a few days ago, honestly! But I decided to give her the chance to tell you herself first. If she hadn't told you sooner, Draco, believe me, I truly would have!'

A little pacified, Draco sat down again and Blaise heaved a sigh of relief. Another thing he had forgotten: Malfoys could be inhumanely scary when they wanted to. An awkward moment of silence followed before the latter ventured cautiously, 'So ... what did you do?'

'Nothing.'

'Nothing?'

'Yes, Blaise!' Draco groaned and there was definitely more than a hint of hysteria in his voice this time. He fell back against his pillow and buried his face in one hand. 'I didn't do anything! I ... I don't even know what I should do!'

A little concerned at Draco's sudden bout of panic, Blaise approached his bed and sat down on a corner. 'Hey there, take it easy, Drake. One step at a time, all right? Uh, well ... what do you think you should –?'

'Think? I have been thinking about this nonstop for the past week, Blaise! I thought about what she said, I thought about things I promised myself I would never think about again, I've been thinking so much I'm utterly tired of it, but I still have absolutely no goddamn idea what I should do!'

Another awkward moment of silence followed before Blaise murmured, 'Maybe you should figure out your own feelings towards Harry first. And before you smother me with another lecture of how she humiliated you on the train and how much you hate her, I'd like to suggest that you drop that facade you hide behind. Because I know, Draco,' he glared at the other Slytherin when he made to interrupt him, 'I know that you have other feelings for her apart from your overwhelming dislike. You've hidden them well, but they're still there. And perhaps those are the ones you should consider because I have a suspicion that they are what you truly feel; not merely this blinding hatred.'

For a second, Draco stared at his friend with such shock it looked almost comical, but then he schooled his expression back to neutral again. 'Blaise ... how do you know me so well? We've known each other only a few months.'

'But, for the most part, we have a similar way of thinking, Draco. I find it easy to read you.'

'I should be worried about that.'

'Don't be. You know your secrets are safe with me.'

The blond gazed at him for a long minute, eyes filled with grave contemplation. 'Yes,' he said, finally, 'which is probably why I'm even considering telling you what I've tried to forget for all these years...'

At that, Blaise looked at Draco expectantly, turning so that he was facing him fully. He leaned forward in anticipation.

'Would you stop looking at me like that? Here I'm about to tell you something I've never told another soul, Zabini, and having you gawk at my face like some bug-eyed imp is not helping in the least!'

Blaise almost burst out laughing, but meekly turned away nevertheless, fighting down a smile at the same time. For all that Draco tried to hide his flaws, he was still imperfect; his childish fears and diffidence broke through during the most unexpected of circumstances. Blaise was glad, though; they were proof that Draco Malfoy was still human – something that many tended to overlook because of his high-and-mighty disposition.

'Alright,' Draco muttered finally, sounding a little ill at ease. 'So ... so, you already know what happened on the train. I offered her friendship and she spurned me to be with that freckle-faced Weasel. I admit; I was very angry back then. I mean, she had said no to me! No one says no to a Malfoy! But now when I think about it, I ...' he cleared his throat uncomfortably, 'I think I was angrier at ... well, Weasley rather than Potter. I thought it was the most unfair thing in the world. I had seen her first in Madam Malkin's, not Weasley. I talked to her first, not him. So, naturally, I believed I had more right to her companionship than the Weasel –'

'To put it simply, you were nothing but a possessive bastard back then,' Blaise sniggered.

'You want to listen or not?' Draco said irritably.

'Sorry, Drake, I couldn't resist. Go on.'

'Right. So, ever since then, I took every opportunity to insult Potter and her friends. Initially, I believed that I was simply showing her what happened to people that refused a Malfoy; I believed that for a very long time ... but, eventually...' Draco bowed his head to hide the humiliation on his face. 'I ... I began to notice that I was thinking ... about her ... all the time...

'Not in the romantic sense, no, but Potter was – she was always there. Whether I was trying to come up with a fitting insult or wondering if I would have a chance to gloat in her face that day, whatever I was thinking, it was almost always about her. It ... it even scared me how much I had her on my mind!

'And then I began to notice even more things I'd disregarded before. Like, during those times when she would just ignore my insults and walk off like I didn't even exist...! I – I can't explain what happened to me then! This inexplicable anger would rise up immediately and I'd feel just so ... so frustrated. Sometimes, when she ignored me, I even wanted to just go after Potter and force her to respond to me! It was like – like...'

'Like you wanted nothing more than her attention,' Blaise finished softly.

'Yes,' Draco mumbled. He was still averting his face from Blaise though his friend was determinedly looking at the opposite wall. Draco paused for a second before he confessed, 'That was when I realised that all those insults, all the taunting, all the fights – I started every single one of them just so she'd pay attention to me. Whenever we passed each other in the corridors, I just had to say something so that Potter would at least look at me. Sometimes, that was all I could think about...'

'I see,' Blaise said matter-of-factly. 'Anything else?'

The blond had to force himself to speak this time. 'I was jealous.'

'Wait, what?'

Sounding extremely reluctant, Draco continued, 'You heard me, Blaise. I was jealous – of everyone around Potter. Especially Weasley and Granger. It took me another lifetime to figure that sentiment out, but I eventually knew. How couldn't I? After all, every time I saw the three of them together, laughing and talking as if they belonged together, it just ate me alive. They were so close to her, knew her so well ... and I longed for the same thing. I wanted nothing more than to haul her two sidekicks away and take their places myself. I always kept thinking things like, It should have been me. It should be my hand that she's holding, not theirs. I should be the one that's making her laugh, not them. She should be considering me as her best friend, not them. It should have been her and I, just us ... no one else. I couldn't get it out of my head.

'But by then, I knew it was too late. I could never have her friendship, and I couldn't handle her rejection of me. So ... I tried to convince myself that I hated her with all my heart. I buried down everything, what I felt, what I thought, the friendship I wanted from her ... I just bottled them all up and promised never to think of her that way ever again. I told myself I could just move on and make her life a living hell while I was at it. And I acted on it, Blaise. I did, but still ... those memories still come up sometimes...'

Draco heaved a sigh. 'So, now you see, Blaise, why I don't know what to do. All this time I've been trying to convince myself I loathed her. She's been my rival all these years in Hogwarts, but...'

'But, deep inside, you know you don't really hate her,' Blaise finished for him. 'You still want the same thing you wanted from Harry when you first met her.'

Draco's silence spoke volumes.

Blaise shook his head slightly. A part of him was appreciating how much courage and resilience Draco had worked up to confide his innermost feelings and secrets in him; the other part was marvelling at the unbelievable truths that had been revealed tonight.

'I can barely believe this,' he murmured. 'You make such a convincing show of hating her, but all this time, you've been in love with her!'

'Love?' Draco repeated, jerking upright. He frowned. 'That's a very strong word, Blaise. One should know another well before they can love. No, I was never in love with Potter. She was just ... just ...'

'She was an obsession,' Blaise nodded.

Draco did not look too happy with that term either, but he nodded nonetheless. 'I suppose so.'

'Hmm ... well, let's leave aside my opinion. What do you think you should do?'

'I told you, I have no idea. But I've sort of been thinking that maybe, it would be best if I just called it off.'

'What?'

'It's what she wants, Blaise. Hariah Potter would never marry me. She'd be happiest if I just removed that ring from her.'

'Ah, but would you be happy, Draco? Is this what you want?' Blaise half-glared at the blond, daring him to lie.

Draco said nothing.

'Well,' Blaise drawled with an exaggerated yawn, getting to his feet, 'if you decide to call it off, let me know, would you, so that I can take a shot at courting her. I'd like to take Harry as my wife.'

'You what?' Draco was on his feet in an instant, eyes blazing. 'Stay the hell away from her, Zabini! She's my fiancée –!' He stopped dead when Blaise threw his head back and began to laugh heartily.

'You played me on purpose, didn't you?' Draco said coldly.

Blaise smirked, leaning against the bed post. 'Once a possessive bastard, always a possessive bastard.'

Rolling his eyes in irritation, Draco flopped down on the bed again and ignored the high colour in his cheeks.

With a low chuckle, Blaise said softly, 'Look, Drake, I don't think you should call off this engagement yet. I mean, you've always wanted to be with Harry, haven't you? You messed up your chances before, but now you have another golden opportunity! And I know that you believe that she hates you, but can't you persuade her to at least get to know you a little? Learn more about each other throughout this engagement. If you like her enough to marry her, then just win her heart over –'

'Blaise, she loathes me to the point where I can never redeem myself in her eyes.'

'Nonsense. She's still human, isn't she? And a human's heart can be converted. You just have to try hard enough. Show her how you've changed into a better person, Draco. Trust me, you are a better person now, you better believe it. And Harry Potter may love you yet.'

Love. There was that word again. Draco shivered slightly.

When he did not reply, Blaise added more seriously, 'Draco, here is a girl that you've been obsessing over ever since you were eleven. You've wanted her forever, and now, you've been given a second chance at it.' He tipped his head to one side, watching the troubled look on Draco's features.

'Tell me, Drake ... are you really just going to let her go?'

Draco did not talk about anything he and Blaise had discussed the next day. Blaise did not press him, either. Instead, both of them fell into an unspoken agreement to just concentrate on their classes as if no ground-breaking secrets had been revealed; Blaise because he had completed his best-friend job of helping the other Slytherin get his head back together, and Draco because ... well, he simply did not want to think about his engagement after that gruelling conversation he had had the night before. He was determined to focus on his studies and catch up with what he had fallen behind. As for the whole Hariah-Potter-thing – he would take that one step at a time, like Blaise had suggested.

Thus, the entire day passed peacefully enough (though Draco had to exercise a lot of self-control as he tried not to stare at Hariah Potter too much during his classes) and by the time dinner was over, Draco felt a lot calmer than he had for the past several weeks. Though it was incredibly hard, forcing himself not to think about Potter or his engagement was extremely soothing to his exhausted brain. His good mood lasted all the way to the dungeons, but Blaise and he had barely reached the common room when –

'Mr Malfoy! There you are, my boy!'

Draco sighed tiredly. 'What does he want?' he muttered, turning to face Slughorn.

'I just sent one of the younger students out looking for you,' Professor Slughorn said jovially as he approached the duo. 'If you would please step into my office? Run along there, Mr Zabini.'

Exchanging a look, Draco and Blaise parted ways, the former following his teacher up the corridor.

'Your mother wants to have a little Floo chat with you, Mr Malfoy,' Slughorn explained before Draco could even open his mouth.

Said blond nearly tripped over his own feet. 'My mother? But ... why couldn't she have just sent me an owl?'

'Well, about that. You see, dear boy, your mother gave me another Floo call about a week ago as well. I believe I told your friend, Mr Zabini, to inform you of that? Well, no matter. Anyway, at that time, your mother seemed very anxious. She said that you had not replied to one of her urgent letters and so, had grown worried that something had happened to you. But I reassured Mrs Malfoy that you were as right as rain and that there was absolutely nothing to worry about!

'However, she just gave me another call again. According to her, you still have not answered that letter and she is very worried, and quite desperate to talk with you! So, Mr Malfoy, inside please,' he said, opening his office door upon reaching it.

'I shall wait outside,' he added when Draco entered.

Draco immediately hurried over to the fireplace where a small, but merry fire was burning brightly. Narcissa Malfoy's blond head rested right in the middle of the flames and it turned in his direction at once.

'Draco! Oh, darling, thank heavens that you're all right!' Narcissa exclaimed tearfully as Draco knelt down on the hearth in front of her.

'Of course, I'm fine, Mother,' Draco said in a reassuring voice.

'But why did you not answer my letter, Dragon? It has been weeks! You cannot blame me for worrying.'

Guilt welled up within him. He knew exactly which letter she was referring to. It was the one she had sent immediately after Skeeter had published her article, demanding to know if it was true. But Draco, feeling both ashamed and fearful, had put off answering it until he had eventually forgotten about it.

'Forgive me, Mother. It just escaped my mind. I had many other things to think about.'

'I see,' Narcissa murmured softly, watching him with thoughtful eyes. 'Well, tell me then, darling, what that wicked woman wrote in her article – was it true?'

Very hesitantly, he shook his head. 'No, Mother ... it's not true.'

His mother's eyes lit up. 'So, you have found your fiancée?'

'... Yes.'

'Oh, that is wonderful news! But Draco,' she added reproachfully, 'why did you not inform me?'

He swallowed, trying to think of a believable excuse. 'Because ... well, I still haven't decided if I want her, Mother...'

'Oh, don't be ridiculous, Dragon. You do not need to finalise the marriage before telling me her identity. Simply because I know who she is does not necessarily mean you're ultimately forced to marry her!'

'No, of course not, I know that, Mother. But ... you see, I ... she is... we're ...' He shook his head in aggravation. How was he supposed to explain everything to her when he himself was still as confused as he had been in the first place? 'It's complicated, Mother. I cannot explain it just now, but I shall soon.' He scrambled to his feet. 'Please, just wait a few more days. I promise I shall tell you soon enough...'

'Draco,' Narcissa said, looking slightly alarmed now. 'What is wrong, darling? Who is the girl? Did something happen? Wait, don't leave –!'

'Please,' he said desperately, backing away towards the door. 'Just wait a little. This whole mess will be cleared up and I'll you then. Please, Mother ...'

'Dragon!'

But he was already out the door. Ignoring a surprised Slughorn, he hurried away towards the common room, frantically hoping that his mother would understand. He did not want to hurt her, but for now, he had to keep her in the dark. It could not be helped.

Please understand.

'Are you feeling all right?' Blaise asked when Draco woke up the next morning. The blond made no answer, settling for a half-hearted shrug as he slid off his bed and began to hunt for his robes.

'I'm sure she'll understand, Draco,' Blaise added quietly as he fumbled with his tie. Draco had already given him a very short explanation of what had happened in Slughorn's office.

His friend merely nodded as he stalked towards the bathroom. No more words were exchanged after that.

Soon, both of them were dressed and about to leave for the Great Hall when a loud crack sounded from within the room. The two Slytherins whirled around at once.

A small house-elf stood in the middle of the dormitory. She quickly bowed low when they turned towards her.

'I – I is told to give this to Master Draco Malfoy,' she squeaked, holding out a small, sealed scroll.

Raising an eyebrow, Draco accepted the roll of parchment upon which the little elf bowed once again before disappearing. Puzzled, he quickly broke the seal and began to read.

'... What ...?'

'What does it say?' Blaise asked, looking as puzzled as the other teen.

'I'm excused from my morning classes,' Draco said, staring down at the note. 'And I'm to go to the Headmistress' office immediately ... the password's given as well.'

Blaise peered over his shoulder to read the letter himself. 'Whoa, Drake; no classes today and a formal summon to the Headmistress' office to boot? What have you been up to?'

'I'm wondering that myself,' the Malfoy heir muttered, perplexed.

'Better get going then. McGonagall won't be pleased if you're late.'

Nodding vaguely, Draco dropped his bag onto his bed and left the dormitory, wondering why McGonagall would want to see him? He had done nothing against the rules this year – at least, as far as he was aware of. Am I in trouble? Or is it another nosy reporter?

A few minutes later, he was standing in front of the stong, oak doors. 'Enter,' called McGonagall crisply when he knocked. Taking a steadying breath, he pushed open the doors and walked inside only to halt in his tracks when he saw the other woman that was with the Headmistress.

'Mother?'

Harry tapped her quill against her cheek as she watched Blaise Zabini taking down notes during double Charms. On the isle next to hers, she could feel Hermione looking disapprovingly at her for not doing the same, but she ignored her friend. Professor Flitwick was in the habit of writing their notes on the board. She had plenty of time to take them down.

She turned her attention back to Blaise. Harry was quite surprised to see him in class alone. There was no sign of Malfoy. What happened to him? Usually, the pair of them was nigh inseparable.

Maybe he fell ill, she thought. To be honest, Harry was getting desperate to see Malfoy again. He had been avoiding her for days now, but surely he must have come to terms with the situation by now? What was taking him so long to just take his stupid ring back?

Right at that instant she noticed the small piece of parchment that suddenly appeared on her table. Harry blinked, startled. Where had that come from?

Uncertainly, she picked up the note and unfolded it. Written inside in a barely legible script, as if it had been scrawled in a hurry, were the words:

DADA classroom, lunch hour

D. Malfoy

Harry had to read it twice before she understood. Is this it? She wondered, feeling her heart rate beginning to accelerate. Was he asking to meet her to finally call off the engagement?

Please, let it be so.

Harry had to admit; using the unused Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom as a meeting place was a brilliant idea. There were next to no chances of anyone walking in on them, so their deal could easily be kept a secret. However...

Did he have to meet me during lunch? Harry thought irately as she slammed the classroom door shut behind her. Dropping her bag onto a random table, she pulled out a chair and set down, preparing to wait for Malfoy who apparently could not be on time to meetings he organised. I'm so hungry. He better make this quick.

Leaning back in her seat, Harry swung her feet up onto the table, balancing the chair on its back legs. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked down at her now-healed left hand. She had removed the bandages on the way here since the ring would soon be gone anyway. Holding her arm up, Harry once more admired the sparkles the diamond gave off. It really is a beauty, Harry mused. And if it had not been what it was, then maybe, just maybe, she might miss having it on her finger. She had become so used to its weight over the past few months...

'Ahem.'

Harry turned her head towards the door quickly, dropping her hand onto her lap. Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, one hand resting on the frame as he looked at her. The usual apathetic expression was back on his face, but she immediately noticed that something was off about him, something she could not put her finger on. But next moment, Harry brushed it aside. Now was the not the time for stupid paranoia. She was finally going to be free!

Harry was about to drop her chair back on four legs (and give the git a good telling off for being tardy during lunch hour), when Malfoy cleared his throat again and stepped to one side. The raven-haired girl froze in her seat, eyes widening as she stared in disbelief at the blonde woman that walked into the room after the Malfoy heir.

What the f –!

Draco Malfoy chose to speak at that second. 'Mother, this is Hariah Potter ... my fiancée.'

Harry fell off her chair.

A/N: That does not count as a cliffhanger! ... Right??? ::meep:: PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!

All right, POLL RESULTS: Draco - 110 votes (35%). Blaise - 77 votes (24%). Harry - 59 votes (18%). "Someone else" - 37 votes (11%). Hermione/Ginny - 31 votes (9%). Total: 181 voters. Thanks for voting, people! I'll leave the closed poll on my profile for sometime so that you could check it out for yourselves if you want. And before you ask: Yes, I'd always planned on Harry telling Draco herself, even before I began writing this fic. :)

One more thing: Look, I'm still in high school, OK? And I just started my final year. So, I've got to work more on studies and tone down my leisure time a bit. You know what that means, right? Slower updates in the future. Sorry, guys, but that's just the way life works. :(

EDIT: Oops. I forgot to mention earlier: Much thanks to Nikotehfox for "Oh hi, I'm your fiancée and I really enjoy it when you sexually harass me even though I [pretend to] despise you". Love you, my readers! You come up with some really good lines/phrases! :D

Reviews and concrit = lurve! XD

NEXT: CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Gone Wild