Unofficial Portkey Archive

Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long since my last update! Work has been killer. Thank-you for your patience and a double thank-you to those of you who have been reviewing! It makes my day!

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CHAPTER 16: Secrets that Kill

I don't even recognize this place anymore Draco thought with disgust as he watched Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood walking side by side down the formerly dark corridor of Malfoy Manor. Since it had been infested with former Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs they had added all sorts of superfluous lighting and cleared away the dust and cobwebs. In fact, the place looked nearly cheery. It sickened him.

Draco had no friends and even fewer allies so he had not recruited anyone to what they were now adorably calling "Potter's Army". The others had more success however, recruiting all seven billion red-headed Weasleys, former members of Dumbledore's Army, a few surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix, a couple of Ginny's most trusted Quidditch mates, several Ministry workers that Hermione had vouched for and several trusted aurors that Harry had contacted. All and all their numbers were nearing 40 and it had only been a week and a half.

Fortunately they did not all live there; in fact, most of them kept their normal schedules as to not attract too much attention to their rag-tag army. Hermione had created a very specific training schedule for each volunteer and Harry barely slept as he worked around the clock trying to train each of them.

Quite obnoxiously (in Malfoy's mind), Harry had learned Mental Channeling without a problem. Not everyone was so adept however. Ron and Ginny showed some aptitude but they had trouble controlling their magic for a sustained period of time. Neville Longbottom was surprisingly good, but Luna Lovegood hadn't shown any abilities yet. Hermione could perform basic spells but lacked raw power. And Draco couldn't so much as levitate a feather.

It makes no sense Draco thought stubbornly as he retreated to the privacy of his own wing on the Manor. When I get mad I can crack stone, but when I focus I can't even crack an egg. I was the one who taught Potter to meditate, I am the one who learned to control my emotions long before he did.

But in the solace of his room he knew that wasn't entirely true. He had learned to ignore his emotions, to forcibly push them away. He didn't know how to let himself feel them and then control them. Or I'm just being a coward he thought, falling heavily onto the black comforter on his bed. I'm afraid to feel anything.

His father had always had a saying about emotions, as he did about most everything. Even when Draco was very young Lucius would treat both tears and joy with the same amount of disdain. "Emotions are the weakness of the human soul" he would say while seeing to Draco's swift and proper punishment. What did he know of a soul? Draco wondered. Is redemption possible father?

He pulled a pillow over his face as though it could block out his pointless nostalgia. My father wouldn't have known anything about redemption. He was the slave of a mad man and died being seen as a traitor and a villain all because he MAY have known something about Mental Channeling.

Draco recalled his secret meeting with Damon and the exact words he had used to justify his killings; I was simply trying to clear the world of any Death Eaters whom Riddle may have shared his knowledge of Mental Channeling with. Riddle couldn't keep his damned mouth shut, but that was not a mistake Draco was going to make. He would play his cards carefully and watch each step unfold.

There was suddenly a knock on his door and it made him jump. I thought I made it clear that nobody was to bother me here. He stormed from his bed and swung the door open to see a very tired looking Harry Potter standing on the other side. Harry's hair looked inordinately messy and his pallor was nearly sickly. Purple-blue crescents shone from beneath his eyes and they looked like bruises but they were simply from the lack of sleep and proper nourishment.

"What do you want Potter?" Draco spat, trying to hide his shock at Potter's sickly appearance.

"To thank you" Harry shrugged, sliding past Draco and into his room. He held an unopened bottle of firewhiskey up as a peace offering.

"I'd much rather a sexy female was coming here to my bedroom with a bottle of firewhiskey to `thank me'" Draco quipped.

"Listen Malfoy… I know you don't like me, or any of my friends for that matter. I get that everything you're doing- the whole good guy routine- is self serving in the end."

Draco felt his heart freeze for a moment. Just how much DOES he know?

A moment later he was able to let out the sharp breath he had inhaled as Harry continued. "I know that you letting us use Malfoy Manor to train, and your minimal efforts to play nice with me and my friends are all in the name of seeking some sort of redemption. But still, we wouldn't be able to do this without you. Damon may be waiting for me to make the first move, but I have a feeling that he would have gladly tried an attack already if it weren't for the ancient wards that guard this place. We need Malfoy Manor… and we need you."

Draco turned away with the excuse of grabbing a couple glasses from the bar he had in his bedroom. In truth, it was the easiest way to be sure that his face did not betray any feelings on the matter. Once he felt fully composed he gestured to the large leather armchairs he had in front of the fireplace. They both sat and Harry filled their glasses amply.

"Are you sure you should be drinking?" Draco asked, eyeing his former nemesis warily as he took a healthy gulp of the burning liquid.

"I haven't had any random magical outbursts since we removed Riddle from my mind" Harry said, staring deeply into the flames before them. It had been over a week since they had conducted an intricate enchantment, which transferred Riddle's consciousness from Harry's mind into a pendant that Harry now wore around his neck. According to Riddle, because his full magical force would be captured inside the pendant, it was truly indestructible. They all had their suspicions that Riddle was bluffing, but since everything they'd tried was ineffective Harry had ultimately decided that the safest place to keep the pendant was with him.

For his part, Draco thought it was rather morbid for one to be wearing his enemy's soul around his neck. But then, nobody ever asked Draco what he thought.

"I wasn't talking about `magical outbursts'" Draco frowned. "I was talking about the fact that you already look like a living corpse."

"I'm fine" Harry responded, his tone edgy and harsh.

"Well, what do I care?" Draco responded, his tone equally sour. "What are you even doing here really? I dare say I've wasted enough of my time around you now to know when you're fishing for something."

"I want to know why you can't Channel" Harry said, his tone so flat that it took Draco by surprise.

"Because I hate the idea of having super awesome powers" Draco responded in his most sarcastic tone.

"I think it's because you hate the idea of feeling anything" Harry immediately countered, nonchalantly helping himself to a refill. "Riddle couldn't Channel properly because the only emotions he could experience was hate and anger. I think you're capable of feeling more than that. Remorse and regret for example. But you've spent so much time training yourself to shut those feelings off that you're afraid of what will happen if you reach for them again."

"What would you know of it?" Draco said, standing suddenly as the bottle of firewhiskey exploded from his sudden change in mood. "You're here bribing me with a bottle of shit liquor in the middle of the night when you should be with your adoring girlfriend. Why exactly are you avoiding her?"

Harry hadn't expected this sudden turn around and it took him a moment to think of a proper response. As he thought he waved his hand in an almost absent manner and the bottle rebuilt itself into the exact same form it had previously been in, not so much as a ripple in the surface of the liquid. "I'm not avoiding her. I've barely seen her since we got back from Hogwarts and started all this training. Both of us have been incredibly busy between training and planning and organizing. But in truth, there is something I haven't been telling her."

There was a pained look in Harry's eyes but it was for just a moment and then it passed. Draco wondered what it was like, to feel so strongly about someone that even keeping a secret could cause such pain. Why would anyone want to be in love?

"I've been having these dreams ever since I took the odyssea potion and Riddle showed me his memories of The Cradle. They are vivid though… and I think they're more than dreams. Anna told Riddle that Mental Channeling could allow for the resurgence of other rare powers as well; for example she sometimes had premonitions of the future. I think I'm somehow seeing Damon's thoughts through my dreams."

Draco had been waiting for Harry to make this announcement but there was a sudden tightness in his chest as he listened; a feeling of anxiety. The pieces on the board are starting to move, and soon it will be time to make my own move. "Why are you telling ME this instead of Granger or Weasley?"

"I don't want them involved" Harry said shortly. "I know where Damon is hiding, and he's alone. It's my chance to take him out."

"Ah well, brilliant plan as usual Potter. You're going to take on a decades old wizard who is so powerful that he makes old Voldie look like a drooling first year? You think a bit too highly of your abilities."

"That's why I need you to start bloody learning to Channel!" Harry said, standing with sudden agitation. "I will need your help."

Draco was both surprised and nauseated by the fact that he felt somewhat touched by Harry's words. "So that's the plan then… you and I against Damon?"

"Yes, for two reasons; first is that I have no qualms about risking your life. Second is the Unbreakable Vow, you know that whole blood pact we made when we were in prison? `I vow that I will assist him in finding his parents' murderer'. Technically we still don't know who your parents' murderer was, but we know he's related to Damon, probably one of his Children. Until we figure that out though, I'm still bound to my vow to help you find out, which means we'll have to ask Damon."

Draco no longer felt flattered. In fact, it was quite the opposite. "Potter, I don't think this will work. As I said-"

"I'm not looking for an argument" Harry said with finality in his tone. "Are you with me or not?"

"I'm with you."

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Hermione was tired. No beyond tired. She was bone achingly exhausted. When she wasn't running errands in the muggle world to keep them stocked up on food and whatever other supplies, she was organizing the schedules of a few dozen people to facilitate their Mental Channeling training. That in of itself was a labor because she didn't want to raise any red flags about their involvement. As far as they knew, anybody could be one of Damon's Children. And if one of Damon's Children noticed a known ally of Harry Potter was frequently making mysterious disappearances they might grab that person one day and question him and her.

Hermione had once been "questioned" by Belletrix Lestrange. She did not wish that sort of pain upon anyone, especially her friends. Thus she had to organize their schedules so they would attend their normal jobs and other duties and only report for training when it was certain nobody would notice them missing.

On top of all of these responsibilities, she had her own training, which was going slowly. She could perform simple spells and charms wandlessly, but her dueling ability was still very weak. Even her stunning spells could barely knock a person off their feet. Maybe if I wasn't so bloody tired all the time she thought, wondering if she could convince Malfoy to let her use his potions lab to brew some pep up potion.

She tried to refocus on the parchment in front of her on which she was writing the next week's schedule. It was difficult to schedule time in for Harry to do normal things like eat, sleep and bathe and she felt rather guilty about that. As she mused over this she realized with a pang how much she missed him. They spent almost every day under the same roof yet she hardly saw him, unless it was when he was training her, and that wasn't the sort of quality time she wanted with him. When I miss him it's like there's this emptiness within me she realized. An even greater realization was that she'd been having that exact feeling since she was a teenager, she was only starting to acknowledge it now.

Her hand was aching from writing with the quill for so long so it wasn't long before she decided a break was in order. As she rested her quill in the inkwell and leaned back in her chair there was a knock at the door. Her heart leapt at the thought that it might be Harry. With everything that had been happening they hadn't had time for so much as a proper snog, much less other things. Things she was rather eager to experience with him, despite her constant fatigue.

When the door opened, she wasn't greeted by green eyes and raven black hair. Quite the opposite; grey eyes and platinum blonde hair greeted her on the other side of the door. She still had no trust in Draco Malfoy and the sight of him reminded her of a multitude of unpleasant things, not limited to his free usage of the word "mudblood" and her treatment the last time she had been a "guest" at Malfoy Manor. Still, he had proven to be helpful and Harry had come to have some level of respect for the former Slytherin.

"Can I help you?" she asked, trying to refrain from sounding too contemptuous. He closed the door behind him and cast silencing charms on the room. Immediately she reached for her hand and pointed it at him, a warning look in her eyes.

"I'm not here to attack you Granger" he frowned. "I need to talk to you about something, and we can't be overheard."

"What do you need to tell me?" she asked, lowering her wand but not putting it away.

"Everything."

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Down in the massive kitchen of Malfoy Manor, Ron Weasley was enjoying an ice-cold muggle beer. He had begged Ginny and Hermione to add butter beer to the grocery list, but since they had been shopping at muggle stores to avoid being seen, that was a no-go. Thus Ginny had compromised by buying some sort of a muggle beer that Ron discovered to be quite good.

He had seen George earlier in the day and they had trained together under Harry's supervision. George reported that he was managing to keep all the branches of WWW running quite effectively, despite Ron's absence. Ron could tell it was a strain on his brother though, and he felt guilty. Not that he could be two places at once of course. And not that the work he was currently doing for "Potter's Army" wasn't important. Still, he missed his bachelor pad and the daily on goings of the joke shop, and girls. I especially miss girls he thought, taking another sip of his beer.

Yet, while he yearned for the safety and normalcy he had been living with just months ago, he didn't miss the person he had been. Being back in the way of danger had cleared his mind of some of his previous frivolity and reminded him of what was important in life; friendship and courage, and yes, love. Aside from the feelings he had for Hermione, he had never been in love and never gave much thought to the concept of it. Some part of him assumed that one-day a switch would just go off and he'd want to settle down, find a wife and have children. He never really factored in love itself, and all of its messiness and all of its magnificence.

As he was pondering this, Luna came wandering into the kitchen, her usual dreamy expression upon her features. He had seen little of her over the past week, and he realized he was quite happy to see her now. It seemed that she had been mad at him for a little while, but that had long passed and her usual warmth was back, attracting him like a moth to a flame.

"Oh, hello Ronald" she said, only just noticing him standing at the counter with his beer in hand. "How have you been? I was only just thinking how peculiar it is that we are sleeping in the same hallway of the same house yet I rarely see you."

"You had training with Neville this morning?" Ron asked, feeling a strange surge of jealousy at the idea of Neville getting to spend time around Luna. Where did that come from? he wondered.

"Yes, Neville and a few others. Poor Harry has been run ragged by managing all these sessions. It's been rather disappointing that I haven't shown any ability at all. In all my spare time I've been trying to meditate like he taught us. Hopefully I'll show some ability soon, so Harry isn't wasting his time on me."

"He's not!" Ron blurted out, hoping to console her. "I mean, everyone knows you're trying your best."

She smiled gratefully but still looked a bit sad. "I just don't understand why this is happening. I know I'm not the only one struggling, but I honestly felt that I would be good at Channeling. I mean, it's about using your emotions to augment your power right? And I'm not… unemotional."

He hugged her impulsively and felt awkward at first but then realized how perfectly she fit into his arms and how good it felt to hold her close and so he hugged her a bit longer than he intended. "I know you're not Luna. Harry said channeling is different for each person, that the way it affects your magic can vary."

"Well, all it does for me is give me a headache" she said, a genuine smile on her face now and he realized how close they were still standing.

"A headache?"

"Yes, like a migraine behind my eyes. Maybe I'm just trying to focus too hard. Or perhaps I'm just hungry."

"Good thing we're in a kitchen then. I haven't eaten either, shall I make us something?" he wasn't sure why he offered. He had never cooked much in all of his life. Molly was a whiz in the kitchen, but Ron had gotten none of those genetics.

The look on her face just further committed him to the task. She seemed to light up. "You are going to cook me dinner?"

"Why not?" he shrugged. "How hard can it be? Why don't I get you one of these muggle beers to sip on while I cook something up?"

"Sure" she agreed and he cracked one open with a weird little device that Ginny called an opener bottler… or something like that. Luna took a delicate sip that he found positively adorable and then nodded her approval. "I like it. It reminds me of a warbalee nectar elixar…."

She continued to prattle on about some creature called a warbalee (which he was quite certain wasn't real) and he looked through the cabinets to see what there was to be cooked. He found a couple packages of noodles that only required hot water, and then he found some peanut butter and bunch of saltine crackers and a can of tomato soup. Since he liked all of those things (and they required no preparation) he threw them all into a big pot together and boiled them up.

Halfway through he thought that his master recipe might not be so good after all and he frowned as he poked at it with a long spoon. "What's wrong?" Luna asked, seeing his distress.

"I may have… miscalculated the recipe" he said, trying to sound adult in spite of the disaster before him. She walked over to have a look and he grew nervous.

"It smells delicious!" she exclaimed, and taking the spoon from him she dipped it into the pot and tasted a sample. "Ronald, it's great!"

He looked at her, certain she was lying but decided not to argue. He ladled out two bowls for each of them, and while it was not "great" as she had said, he had never been one to fuss about what he put in his stomach. As he made his way through the pile of noodles and soggy crackers with a tomato/ peanut butter sauce he managed to find it more and more enjoyable. They split another couple beers and talked about all manners of things and for the first time in a long time he found himself smiling.

Luna, for her part, ate seconds of Ron's concoction.

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"Can I sit?" Draco asked as a flustered looking Hermione was still staring at him, wand in hand.

"Fine" she said, gesturing to the chair across the desk from him. It was of course, his office, his desk and his chair. "What do you mean `everything'?" She asked, a feeling of dread in her.

"Where to start…"

There was a long pause in which she grew quite impatient. "Honestly Malfoy, are you just here to waste me time?"

That old smug grin she so hated from Hogwarts reappeared on his face for a moment but then vanished. "No, this is quite serious. I suppose I'll start with the fact that lied to you all. I did meet with Damon. I never thought he'd show up, and figured it was a rather idiotic scheme but he did come to that grotesque, nameless bar he seems to so love conducting business in."

Hermione frowned. "Why did you lie about it? No, more importantly, why are you telling me now?"

"You really are the only quick witted one in the terrible trio" Draco responded. She wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a compliment or some sort of backhanded insult, but she hardly cared. All she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears and trepidation had made her mouth dry. "When I met with Damon, I did exactly what I had planned with Potter. I told him I wanted to become one of his `children', that I was willing to turn you all in for the prize of being his servant. There was only one of you he wanted of course."

"Harry" she said promptly. There had been a time when Damon wanted her dead because she would not give up the pardoned Death Eaters. Those games had long passed now and they were back to singing the same old tune; the evil wizard wants Harry Potter's head on a platter.

"It's really a shame for Potter that it's always demented wizards who want him and not gorgeous swimsuit models. No offense."

She rolled her eyes. "So you saw him and he told you he wanted Harry in exchange for making you a part of his plans."

"Yes, and he forced me into a rather awkward predicament. He planned a rather elaborate trap for Potter. He gave me a memory of himself alone at The Cradle and I needed to somehow plant that memory into Potter's brain so that he'd think it was some sort of legillmency. Damon presumed that Potter would go rushing to The Cradle by his lonesome in a noble effort to finish him off tete-a-tete. So far, that plan is working quite well."

"What do you mean?" Hermione didn't realize that she was gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.

"When I made the Odyssea potion it was the perfect opportunity to slip Damon's memory in. Potter just came to me about an hour ago telling me about how he's been having these dreams about Damon's location."

"Why did he tell you and not me?"

"Oh come on Granger. You know Potter better than anyone don't you? He's trying to play hero as always. Saint Potter knows that if he tells you, you'll demand to be at his side and you might very well get yourself killed. He doesn't want any more blood of those he cares about on his hands. Me on the other hand, he does not mind losing."

Hermione's mind whirled. Her first thoughts were those of anger; anger that Harry had kept this secret from her, that he would still try to shoulder everything alone despite all that they'd been through. But quickly that indignant feeling gave way to sadness. Of course he would do it this way. He's lost everyone he's ever loved aside from Ron and I. How could I expect him to take that risk? She tried to mask her feelings from Draco and continued to question him after a beat. "So, you met up with Damon and lied about it and then you snuck a memory into Harry's Odyssea potion that will lure him into a trap. It sounds like your plan to kill Harry is going quite well. Why tell me?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "If I wanted Potter dead I would have found a way much earlier than this. I only lied because I had made an unbreakable oath to Damon saying I would deliver an UNAWARE Potter to him. As I said, it's an awkward predicament. I've been waiting to see how things pan out before I came to you because I needed to determine what the next move would be. Unsurprisingly, he wants to go face Damon alone. He thinks he's the one sneaking up on Damon, but really Damon will be all ready for him."

"We can't let him go then! What if I'm the one to warn Harry…"

"That will still be breaking my oath. I vowed that Potter would show up for their fight unaware of Damon's plans. You warning him makes him aware."

"So we're supposed to blindly let him walk into this and be killed?? He's not powerful enough to take on Damon…"

"I agree. I tried to tell him as much, and he insisted that I go with him but refused to bring any of you along. There's still an opportunity here. I said Potter would be unaware of the trap- but what if the rest of this little `army' you've been assembling secretly followed him to the battle? Damon is powerful but surely he couldn't defeat dozens of us in combat."

"How do you know Damon will be alone?"

"Because Damon assured me he would be. When it comes to certain tasks, like killing my parents, Damon does the dirty work himself."

Hermione was stunned. Draco had mentioned his parents murder so casually that he might have been discussing the weather. When she resumed talking her tone was a bit more gentle. "So, Damon did it himself then?"

Draco looked away for a moment. "Yes. I recognized his voice when I met with him that night." Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, you are being exterminated as a result of knowledge imparted on you by Tom Riddle. This is part of a cleansing process. He shook his head as if doing so could clear the memory from his mind. It didn't work. All he saw was their unmoving covered bodies on the floor of the library, the dying embers of the hearth reflecting off their dark puddles of blood. "Anyhow, I am certain he will be alone and will not be expecting an army to attack him. I may have lied, but I've given us a once in a lifetime opportunity to turn the tables on Damon and take him out."

"Yes, it's a great opportunity except for the part where every person Harry has ever trusted has to keep his a secret from him. Do you realize what this could do to him?"

"Yes, Potter will be angry when he sorts it all out. But better angry than dead right?"

There was no debating that question, she knew the answer instantly. But will he ever forgive me?

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Draco was staring at Harry in a very intense way and Harry was responding in an almost disinterested fashion. They were alone in one of Malfoy Manor's large ballrooms and they were both standing, unmoving as the nearby fireplace cast long shadows across the black marble floor. After what seemed like an awkward eternity of standing in still silence Harry rolled his eyes and sent Draco flying across the room without lifting so much as a finger.

"Honestly Malfoy, are you even trying?" he asked, exasperated. It had been nearly a week since Draco had pledged that he would help Harry take Damon on, and Harry had dedicated every waking moment he could spare to the attempt to get the former Slytherin to learn Channeling. Of course, he had to keep up his training sessions with the others as well since he did not want them to suspect anything. It was all very time consuming and exhausting. His nerves were on edge.

Draco dusted himself off, rubbing his lower back where it was undoubtedly bruised from Harry's assault. "No Potter, I love being tossed around like a rag doll."

"You know what I think? I think you're stalling. I think you're afraid to face Damon. I think you're a coward." That got Malfoy's cold blood boiling and suddenly the room was shaking with his fury. "Cute trick Malfoy, but can you control it? Why is it that you can use wandless magic when you get mad but no other time? Maybe you're just like Riddle. Maybe you'll never learn." The shaking stopped as Draco took a deep breath and pushed his rage away. "Oh what the fuck?! Why do you keep stopping yourself?"

Harry threw Draco once more, this time hurling him rather brutally against a wall. Draco groaned in frustration. "I am nothing like Riddle" Draco said, gritting his teeth as he stood. "I've learned to control my rage and fear. How is that a bad thing?"

"You didn't learn to control it; you learned to shut it off. You can't Channel if you don't allow yourself to feel anything."

"Fine, I get it. Whatever. I'm done." Draco headed for the exit, a slight limp in his step. Harry thought about giving him one last push for good measure, but it wasn't doing anything to help so he stopped himself.

"I am leaving tomorrow, with or without you."

"You'll die" Draco spat, turning back suddenly and looking at Harry with a dark look in his grey eyes.

"That'll be on your conscience" Harry retorted.

"Oh no it won't. Why should I care if Saint Potter dies? You've been nothing but a nuisance since the day I met you. I would be glad to be rid of you."

"Fine, if that's how you feel Malfoy" Harry shrugged. He was acting like it was of no concern to him, but somehow Draco perceived otherwise. Oddly enough, he felt quite certain that Harry Potter cared about what Draco Malfoy thought of him. It was a rather startling revelation.

"Channeling or no, I will be there tomorrow" Draco said, finality in his words. Then he exited the ballroom in need of medical attention and Harry was left standing in the shadows. It was just before midnight and he thought that maybe he should spend some more time practicing for the battle that was to come tomorrow. He levitated a flame from the fire and sent it dancing around the room, easily controlling its motions with his mind. Suddenly he thought of Anna burning and stopped immediately, the flame extinguishing mid-air. I'm so tired he realized, suddenly sitting down heavily in the middle of the room.

He thought about going to find Hermione. It was possible she was sleeping, but she might also be awake working away somewhere. He had seen even less of her in the past week than he had the week before. It was almost as though she was avoiding him, but he decided that such thoughts were paranoid delusion. If I fail tomorrow and I die, I will be condemning them all to fight on without me. Will she ever forgive me for what I'm about to do?

A longing desire to see her built up in him suddenly. He wanted to taste her lips upon his, feel her warmth against him, hold her in his arms. There was also a matter of unabated lust that kept creeping up on him. Even before realizing he was in love with her he had entertained many thoughts of sleeping with her. How could he not? They had been teenagers alone in a tent for months at a time and she had been the only girl he ever felt 100 percent comfortable being himself around. Of course she was also quite gorgeous. Before there had always been two key factors that made sleeping with her an unlikely fantasy. The first was the friendship factor and not wanting to ruin their close bond with sex. But the second, and most pressing factor, was the assumption that she would never want him.

But now she had told him she loved him and that was still shattering his world.

He could find her right now and he could hold her and kiss her and take her to one of Malfoy Manor's many beds and if he did he would die a happy man if things went wrong the next day. But it wouldn't quite be fair and he knew it. If he did die she might always feel used knowing that he had slept with her while carrying such a heavy secret. It would be dishonest in a way.

The door to the ballroom re-opened and there she was, standing there as though she had heard his thoughts. She gave him a worried look as he was sitting alone on the floor and he imagined he looked rather ridiculous, not knowing what was really behind that cinnamon brown gaze. He is thinking about how he might die tomorrow and he can't even tell me about it.

Her heart ached for him; for his stupid nobility and his stubborn altruism. She wanted to tell him that she knew, that it wasn't his burden to carry alone but she couldn't without risking the whole operation not to mention inadvertently breaking Malfoy's oath. She thought about how Harry had turned himself over to Voldemort as a teen, that heartbreaking moment when she accepted that it was the only way. For months she had watched that inevitability weigh on him, and he had much the same look on his features now. This was why she had been avoiding him lately. But one or both of them could be dead within the next 24 hours and so she had mustered up her Gryffindor courage to find him and say goodbye without actually saying goodbye.

As she moved towards him she realized she didn't have the words and so when she sat on the cold marble floor beside him she did the only thing she could think to do and kissed him. It was a kiss of longing, of passion of years of words unspoken and dreams that may never be fulfilled. When they parted his emerald green eyes sparkled with confusion but he did not speak. She wanted more suddenly, she longed to feel his hard, smooth chest beneath her hands and take from him everything she'd always wanted but been too scared to initiate.

Yet somehow, with the secrets between them it seemed dishonest, impure. It was with that thought that she rested her head on his lap instead, staring into the flames as she took solace in the steady feeling on his hand brushing her hair back from her face in a soothing motion. Neither of them spoke as the flames died down and the shadows grew around them like secrets threatening to swallow them whole.

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