The next day, Draco woke up to the smell of pancakes and a strange yelling from the kitchen. Grunting, he stood up to make his way downstairs and figure out what was going on. Not that he had ever been very curious, but god damn it, he was dead exhausted!

That said, Draco knew that it was better if he kept himself informed should anything strange happen in this house. Anything he would find out about the people involved with the war may help him piece the final elements together that made up the victory against Lord Voldemort. Maybe the fight downstairs was going to save someone's life someday? Who knew? Was Draco sleep deprived? Hell yes. So, Draco stomped into the kitchen, only to then find the kitchen and hallway cleaned to unrecognisable extents. Perhaps, Draco thought with a blank mind, he was hallucinating again.

Sirius must have been the one yelling because Draco encountered him standing baffled next to the doorframe to the kitchen. Draco walked up to him, rubbing his dry eyes. "What's going on?"

Sirius's eyes were transfixed on the houseelf who was doing his best to avoid his master. "He's making breakfast!"

Draco blinked. A glance at Sirius' startled expression explained to him that no, a houseelf doing his job was not normal for the Black household. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that houseelfs couldn't outright defy their masters but they could pretend themselves incapable of working. In modern circles, people called this 'quiet quitting'. Draco probably shouldn't be surprised but he couldn't say that he had expected, let alone planned this outcome. Either way, it was probably better not to question it. "I can see that."

"Did you talk to him? You're the only other person in the house who's orders he has to follow. Did you?" That almost sounded like an accusation.

Draco shrugged, then watched the humming houseelf work. He still had the fake locket around his neck. At that moment, Draco's mind alarmed him of a number of things. A) He wasn't Kreacher's direct master, Sirius was. B) He wasn't technically allowed to gift the houseelf things without Sirius' permission. C) If Sirius took the locket, then Draco would lose Kreacher's trust. D) If he lost Kreacher's trust, he could lose the locket or accidentally reveal the Horkrux story. It was too soon for that. Because Sirius would tell Potter about it, which then would inform Voldemort himself of his plans. Draco took a deep breath. "I told him he could keep the locket." He turned to Sirius, scared of what he would say next.

He could see the houseelf tensing. He knew the laws as well as Draco did.

"You bribed him?" Sirius sounded almost angry. "That houseelf is LOYAL to my parents' ideologies -" It almost sounded like a question. 'Are you, Draco Malfoy, loyal to my parent's ideologies? Has Kreacher noticed your true intentions? Is that why he acts like what is socially expected of a houseelf?' Or perhaps, Draco was just paranoid.

"A houseelf is always loyal to their family. It has nothing to do with their political interests, because quite frankly, houseelfs don't really deal with them. They are not involved with wizard politics beyond what their masters show them. They are kind to those who are kind to them. That's all," Draco said carefully. "You're a Gryffindor. Isn't nobility YOUR strong suit?"

Sirius' mouth clapped shut. He didn't seem to get it, though. He must have really hated his family if it even extended to the involuntary slave. Draco felt another pang of guilt. The Malfoy houseelfs had never been considered part of the family. More like cockroaches who knew how to cook.

"The Locket was originally a gift from Regulus to Kreacher. I think he didn't take it well when you tried to throw it away," Draco explained. "Let him have this. Don't make unnecessary enemies, Black. He's grieving your brother, just like you did." Draco had gathered a lot from their short conversation in the living room.

Sirius had the gall to look surprised.

Draco kind of got it. He hadn't always believed that houseelfs had feelings. Not until the day that Dobby managed to quit. And he hadn't doubted it since the day Dobby died. Draco sat down at the kitchen table and sent Kreacher a smile. The old elf beamed his way and prepared Draco pancakes. And since Draco didn't want to be impolite, he tried to swallow some of them down. He rather didn't, but he knew that this creature's emotions were delicate and easily swayed. He had to at least give it a try.

Unfortunately, the houseelf noticed. "Does Master Draco not like Kreacher's pancakes?"

Draco shook his head. "No. They are great. I just don't have the stomach for food in general."

That must have shocked the elf, because his eyes turned wide. For a moment, he reminded Draco oddly of Molly Weasley. Being motherly and all that. "But, young master! You must eat!" Draco almost sighed. Was the future really worth this torment? Unfortunately, yes.

"Did he just call you MASTER Draco?"

"We ARE blood related." Draco unnecessarily reminded him.

"I can't believe this." Sirius muttered. He sat down at the table and tried some of the pancakes, much to Kreacher's displeasure. "I CANNOT believe this!" And he sounded astonished and amused and even delighted. His voice raised with every time he repeated himself. "These are great. Just like Regulus loved them." And that smile he portrayed there might have been one that proved that he finally got it. In his own subtle way, Sirius had just complimented Kreacher and that was, Draco thought, a start.

Kreacher's angry grumble lessened somewhat and when he turned, his curses were more muffled than usual.

It wasn't long after that that Molly Weasley walked into the kitchen, eyebrows raised and sleeves pushed up as if expecting to find a bloodbath in the kitchen. "I heard voices. What's going on?"

Sirius turned to her, his mouth full and pointed at Draco. "This kid is unbelievable!"

Molly followed his gaze. "What did he do?" When her eyes fell on Kreacher she fell silent.

Sirius swallowed the bite. "First he erased my mother's portrait and now he made Kreacher into a decent houseelf!"

Draco growled. "He was always a decent houseelf. It's not his fault that you associate him with bad memories." He didn't need to turn around to know that it had been the just thing to say, judging by Kreacher's happy hums. Draco decided then and there that master and elf both needed some weird form of master-servant therapy. Was that a thing? Fucking hell, Draco would just invent it if it wasn't.

"He's defending HOUSEELFS, Molly! Who is this kid? He CANNOT be a Malfoy! I refuse to believe we're related." According to his tone, he meant that in a positive way, ironically.

Molly just smiled and shook her head. "Well, Dumbledore did want you to get along with your houseelf."

Now, Sirius was pouting at the table like a child. It didn't stop him from taking more pancakes. Kreacher may only have begun taking a liking to Draco but it seemed he was happy enough to extend that kindness to the rest of the household. Draco wondered if it would last beyond the final days of the holiday season, since Draco would have to leave. But for now he was satisfied with his work. Draco got up from his seat once he deemed himself ready. "Thank you Kreacher. The breakfast was great. I'm really sorry I can't enjoy it more."

Kreacher seemed a bit bummed. "Does master Draco wish for something specific for lunch? Maybe, if Kreacher makes better food -"

"It's not your fault, Kreacher, really. My eating habits have been bad for a while. It has nothing to do with the quality of the food. You're doing well. If anything, I've already eaten more than usual because of your cooking. Please give me some time." If Draco didn't hate himself so much, perhaps he'd be less inclined to starve himself. But being kind to someone else actually helped.

Draco took a deep breath to steady himself, then he walked back into his temporary room. He tried not to let the glances they had sent him get to him too much. Instead, he focused his attention on figuring out how the Locket worked.

Draco had decided to confront Dumbledore about the Horkrux after the holidays.

First of all, Draco didn't have the tools to destroy the thing. He had neither Basilisk venom, the Sword of Gryffindor, nor was he Voldemort and could piece his soul back together based on pure regret. And Draco wasn't mentally stable enough to cast a fiendfire curse, even if he knew the counter spell.

But he also couldn't outright tell the most powerful wizard of their time that he, a depressed student, had accidentally stumbled over the tools to create Voldemort's demise. No matter how much truth there was to that sentence. It would be in his best interest to face Dumbledore with as many facts as he could gather. How much he would end up telling Dumbledore... Draco was still debating on that.

Draco spent most of his time in Grimmauld place with reading books on curses and counter curses. He made a mental map of the odd places that Potter had been visiting during their one year disappearance, in order to find the potential Horkruxes and figure out what they could possibly be.

And so, he was inspecting the locket, to be absolutely sure that it really was a Horkrux. Regulus might have only had a theory on what the Dark Lord was hiding. Maybe he had been wrong about what he had wanted to destroy. Perhaps Kreacher had been ordered to destroy another dangerous cursed object. Maybe the locket had been placed somewhere else and the original locket in Draco's hand was a fake. Kreacher didn't seem to know what a Horkrux was. It could all be coincidence. Though, in truth, Draco would bet his own liver on this theory. It just made too much sense.

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that he knew the whereabouts of at least three of them. One was here, in his hand. Another, he would bet on it, was in his aunt's vaults and one more in the room of requirements. If his guess with Nagini was right, he knew about four. Combined with his theory of Tom Riddle's diary, he felt half certain that there were at least five of them. One of them thankfully already destroyed.

That said, he didn't know how many there were in total. Or what the object was that Voldemort had given to aunt Bellatrix to protect during his parent's war. Draco could be wrong. Maybe she had been given something else. After all, she had also been entrusted with the sword of Gryffindor which had been able to kill Nagini. It was likely that it was able to destroy Horkruxes. It could have been the only thing Potter and his friends had been attempting to steal at the time. It would make sense... Yet, Draco didn't want to rule it out. Bellatrix had been a complete mess about the vault incident. She had apologised profusely for losing the sword... and some sort of cup. Had Potter known? Or had they been lucky to kill two birds with one stone?

Then there was that incident where Potter pulled that stunt in the ministry, too. Was one of the Horkruxes in the ministry? Or did one of the ministers have it? Had Potter even stolen anything from there? If so, it hadn't made the News. It wouldn't have at the time. He had half a mind to remember that Potter broke into a court and broke muggleborn people out the Ministry who would have been sent to Azkaban otherwise. Either Potter had simply decided to be a hero, or ... well. Horkrux. The Ministry idea was a bit too vague, in Draco's opinion. If one of the ministers owned the Horkrux, then it could be on the move. Maybe the minister who had it was a Death Eater who would work there in later days. Or someone who had stumbled on it on accident. Or it had been taken in by the department that dealt with dark magical objects. Then, Draco had no idea if it was even there yet.

The same could count for the Diadem. Who knew when the Diadem had been put in the room of requirements? Perhaps at the time, Potter had invaded the wrong places and then figured out what person took it and THAT's why they moved around so much. However, given that the vaults and the room of requirements were usually locked to most people, he could be pretty certain that the items were already in place.

Potter and his friends had also ended up in Malfoy manor. The manor was filled with magic of the darker kind. What if their visit had been a conscious decision? What if they had tricked Draco and his family into believing the snatchers had caught them? Draco considered for a moment and ruled that out. If the Diary had been a Horkrux, then Voldemort wouldn't have trusted Draco's father with another one. In fact, the Dark Lord hadn't really trusted any of them hence, except aunt Bella. Besides, if Potter and his friends had wanted to invade, why come as prisoners? Why not hidden as snatchers, or better yet, Death Eaters? Or Slytherins who would have wanted to join the Death Eaters? Potter had been the only one somewhat disguised, only enough for Draco's claims not to know him to be believable. It must have been a hasty decision then.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment. Granger had been with them, Potter, swollen eyes pleadingly directed at him, had likely her to thank for the stupid disguise. Draco shook the image off. Not manor, then.

What about Godric's Hollow? The Dark Lord had expected them there. Why? Why would the Dark Lord expect Potter to go to Godric's Hollow? Considering that the Potter's had lived there when IT happened... Draco didn't need to ponder about that for long. Voldemort had sent Nagini to wait for them. So, had there been a Horkrux, had Voldemort moved it out of the way? Or had he sent Nagini simply because he had looked through Potter's heart one too many times? Or had Potter somehow suspected that Voldemort would leave Nagini in Godric's Hollow to wait for them and she had been the Horkrux they had been after? Draco concluded that Potter's birthplace was a maybe.

Draco's head was smoking by now. There could have been a thousand places that Potter and his friends went to. There could be dozens of Horkruxes. And Potter and his friends had been rather subtle to have kept themselves under the radar for so long.

Draco decided to first concentrate on the most likely candidates. Every one destroyed was one less for his heroes to find. And the ones he deemed most likely had been the ones most viciously protected. Or perhaps... Draco wondered if Voldemort would ever not leave any of his Horkuxes viciously protected. Maybe that's it. Maybe it had been just these five. Or ten. How often could one split a soul without fading away?

Draco would start with the locket and the diadem and bring them to Dumbledore.The most powerful wizard of their time would know better than Draco. Or so he hoped. That made him wonder... Had he even seen Dumbledore this year?

Draco turned all the objects in his head. Slytherin's locket, Ravenclaw's diadem, Nagini, Tom Riddle's Diary, the cup? in aunt Bella's vaults. What did these objects have in common? Maybe there was a common theme. Maybe by finding it, Draco could figure out what the other objects were, or could be. Or if there was something missing from a set, he could add another object to the list.

Draco took a moment to straighten his back and stretch a bit. When he walked around, he let his eyes mindlessly wander over the bookshelf once more. Now, it surely wouldn't be another book... What about a wand? Voldemort had been desperate to find wands for some reason.

Draco opened a random book about potions and how curses affected them.

Why had Voldemort been searching for wands? That's how Draco's father had lost his own? The odd thought entered Draco's mind that Potter's wand might be one. That would explain why the Dark Lord had failed to kill him all this time. Was that why Potter had a connection to Voldemort? Was he being possessed by his wand? Certainly not. Dumbledore would just tell him to buy a new wand, instead of telling him to learn occlumency, right? Draco's head hurt. No... no. That couldn't be it. Voldemort had been asking for a better wand to destroy Potter. He would never have cast the avada kedavra against him if he knew it could destroy a part of his literal own soul. And he wouldn't have been so confused about why his spell work failed. There had to be a connection between the Horkruxes and their creator. Surely, Voldemort could feel them.

Draco knew better than anyone else how the Dark Lord ticked. He had watched him plan. He could identify the patterns, surely. Surely he could recreate Voldemort's interests and plans?

Draco turned the locket in his hand. He understood why the Dark Lord would chose an object that belonged to no other than Salazar Slytherin himself. Draco would choose the same, if he were that insane. Despite his current fall out with the Slytherin house, he could feel his heart beating loudly just to be able to hold Slazar Slytherin's insignia.

But why the diadem? The diary made sense since Tom Riddle shared his mind with it when he had been sixteen, long before it turned into what it was. But for the life of him, Draco couldn't imagine Lord Voldemort wearing a diadem. He might as well have chosen a random pair of socks.

Draco felt agitated, his fingers were twitching around the locket. His headache was getting worse by the second. At the same time it felt like something was trying to pry into his mind, whenever he tried to open the damn locket. Draco was already used to keep up his mind shield at all times, but it became exhausting the more someone prodded at it. It felt like something was constantly trying to pry. And Draco was very close to just letting... Hold on a god damn second. Draco's eyes widened as he let the cursed locket fall to the ground. It clacked against the ground and rolled under the bed. The moment he let go, the headache lessened.

Nevermind where to find the Horkruxes. He needed to get rid of this thing as soon as possible!

And again, Draco had to come to the conclusion that he needed to bring these things to Dumbledore. Which meant, he had to somehow sneak a piece of Voldemort's soul into Hogwarts. With the constant supervision of Filch and Severus, and enforced by Umbridge's random decrees, this might prove to be difficult. He couldn't pass a dark object like this past Hogwart's entrances unnoticed. Just like he couldn't sent himself a package for the same reason. The post would be searched.

Umbridge may not have him on her radar yet, but she was suspicious. Draco knew that only his father's connection to her kept her at bay. Who knew for how much longer? Certainly not if he paraded around with a literal soul piece of the Dark Lord! Even if that would shut the press up and realise that Potter had been right all along.

So, Draco would have to smuggle the thing inside. Great. Another complicated, nearly impossible feat. He knew of only two entrances to Hogwarts from the outside. Both of which lead to the room of requirements. The vanishing cabinet was still broken in this timeline, though, so Draco wouldn't dare step into that thing... He could possibly put only the object itself through, but in the beginning of his sixth year, he remembered that some objects just got lost in the void between the cabinet in Hogwarts and the one in the Nocturn Alley. That was a risk he definitely wouldn't take. Chances were, he'd made it impossible for them to defeat Voldemort at all.

Then there was that emergency tunnel that lead to the Hog's Head. In the war, it had been used to evacuate all of the Slytherins and the younger students. It was the same way that had let the fighters of the Order in. And then Vincent had burned it all down. Draco hit his own head. He wasn't going to think about that now.

In both cases, apart from the whole vanishing cabinet problem, the room of requirements would have to be open from the inside. Which it likely wouldn't be, unless the DA had randomly decided to train over the holidays without their teacher.

Draco bit his lip. There was so much he had to consider. Why was all of this so difficult? He felt sixteen again when every attempt of his to kill Dumbledore was failing over and over and over again.

...

In the following days leading up to Christmas, Draco pretty much spent all his time in Regulus' room, even though he forced himself to eat at every meal, to appreciate Kreacher's work and keep him in good spirits.

The houseelf sometimes even visited him and brought him more books and snacks. He didn't complain about Draco's silent scheming. He was excited that Draco put so much effort in the cause. At some point, Kreacher cried over the fact that Draco was following in Regulus' footsteps.

Draco was scared that it was true. Sometimes he already dreamed of the Inferi reaching for his ankles. He dreamed of drowning. To his dismay, they were the nicest nightmares he'd had in a while.

...

The night before Christmas, a black mob of a head stuck his face into Regulus' room. Needless to say, it was the boy who couldn't mind his own business. He hadn't even knocked. Draco looked up, hands twitching to hide the cursed locket as quickly as possible. But if he did that, he was sure that it would only direct Potter's attention to it.

Potter did notice the locket and tilted his head at it. "Didn't you give that to Kreacher?"

Draco blinked. "Yeah. I'm just checking it over. It's been in this house for a while, who knows what curses it has attracted?"

Potter nodded and sat down on Draco's bed. He played around with the bedsheets. "We all tried to open it last summer. None of us could. It makes you wonder what it's owner wanted to hide."

Draco blinked, knowing his plan had already failed. He blanched. "Yeah, okay, you're right. I think someone put a curse on it to keep the whole thing closed. I doubt there is anything important in there. But just to be sure, I'm taking a look at it before I return it. I think someone wanted to make it look like a mysterious old family heirloom."

Potter smiled. "You're doing this for Kreacher? That's kind of you."

Draco took the incriminating object and put it in the drawer of the table before Potter could ask, or better yet, recognise Slytherin's insignia. "Well, Potter. What can I do for you?"

Potter sat up straighter, clearly uncomfortable sitting on Draco's bed. Which was funny, considering he had sat down without permission. "Well... You've been hiding in here all week. Molly keeps fighting with Kreacher for control over the kitchen and Sirius is worried you've taken over his home." He paused, when he saw Draco's brow furrow in concern. "He's joking," he quickly assured him. "And I might happen to be a bit worried that you spend so much time alone." Potter waved it off as if that wasn't important. He didn't meet Draco's eyes. Draco almost missed the mutter that followed. "Especially after what happened in Potions."

Draco smiled involuntarily.

Suddenly, Harry's eyes snapped up. "But that's not why I'm here. Remus talked to Dumbledore. He decided that you're not going to be teaching me occlumency. He said it's enough of a risk to allow you inside the Order. Apparently, he can keep you silent about this place, but occlumency is too much of a risk. Because of... well... the connection between me and Voldemort, and your family's to him. He wants to talk to you about it. After the holidays." For some reason, Potter's voice turned annoyed at the last part of that sentence. His eyes drew into a frown and focused on the green walls as if they had personally offended him.

"Hmm," made Draco. There was something in Potter's expression that made him feel insecure. "Are you angry with me?" He couldn't say what made him ask. It was just there... between all this concern. And, to be quite frank, it was the part that bothered Draco most.

Potter huffed. "No." He forcefully jumped up and began to pace. "It's just that APPARENTLY Dumbledore is okay to talk with everyone but me. He won't even look me in the eyes! I mean..." Potter deflated. Then he turned to Draco before he let himself fall backwards on the bed. Back hitting the mattress and arms stretched far from him as if he couldn't take enough of the space. Then, his voice turned from angry to hurt and Draco straightened up, knowing this was going to get serious.

"When... when I had that dream about Mr. Weasley... I was brought to Dumbledore to tell him about it. And for a moment, I felt like I WAS the snake. Dumbledore looked at me ONCE and I wanted to bite him."

Draco stared at him, "Kinky," he replied, not really sure what else to say to that.

Potter heaved himself up with an incredulous expression and startled a laugh. "That's not what I meant and you know it." He fell backwards again but there was a smile that stole itself on his lips.

Draco shrugged. "Well. We already know there is a connection between you and the Dark Lord. That was him, reacting through you. That's why it's so important that you learn to close your mind. I can only imagine how Dumbledore must feel. We're at the heart of the Order, where they make all their secret plans, while you're a direct link to the enemy. I'm surprised you're allowed to be here when Black keeps filling you in."

Potter opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked hurt. "So... you're saying I can't be trusted." His tone was bitter.

Draco sighed. "Potter, seriously. I also trust a bulletproof window to keep me safe. I'd still pull the curtains shut when I make plans against the Dark Lord. This isn't a trust issue. It's a realistic assessment of your current situation."

Potter didn't look very happy about that. "He could at least be honest about why he keeps me in the dark."

"That I agree with," Draco said seriously. His eyes trailed back to the drawer. He hoped that Voldemort didn't consider him suspicious. He needed a backup plan, should he ever encounter the man and be asked about the locket.

"And I don't like that he just decides who can look into my head," Potter mumbled, completely unaware of Draco's little secret. "It's MY head. I don't want anyone in my head, least of all Snape! If I have the choice between him and you -"

Draco blinked rapidly. That was unexpected. Sure, Draco had told them what kind of teacher Potter needed and they had all come to the insane conclusion that Draco would not only be AN option but apparently THE option but... well, to get back to his previous analogy, let's just say that when it came to trust, Draco was a broken window. "I mean... even if Dumbledore forces Snape on you... I could still give you pointers."

"I just don't understand why he trusts Snape more than you! No offence. I know Snape is your godfather."

Draco shrugged. "No. I get it. I can absolutely imagine Snape turning and joining the Dark Lord if needed." After all, Draco had seen it happen. And he had no idea why future Potter would announce him a hero, after everything the man had done. He wanted to trust Snape, on some level he still did, but he still had his doubts.

"So you don't trust him, either?" Harry sat up, looking somewhat surprised.

"No, I do," Draco hesitated to say, despite the hope in Potter's eyes. Because it was Potter who had made that declaration back then. Potter had believed it. Potter would believe it again. But how had it come to that in the first place?

"How can everyone just... accept him? How can Dumbledore just..." Potter groaned, and once again fell back on the bed. If he kept doing that for much longer, he would sooner break the bed than get any answers.

Draco tore his eyes away. "Perhaps he knows something that we don't. I believe that Dumbledore knows the risks he's taking with Severus. Whatever it is, we'll probably learn about it when the time is right."

Potter groaned again. "Of course you would say that. You're so goddamn patient with EVERYTHING."

Draco raised a brow. "Yeah, right."

Potter stressed a pointed look at Draco. "No, you are. Everything that's happening. Everything that's put on you. The Slytherins turning against you. Everyone still treating you like the enemy -"

"I find this conversation quite ironic, considering what you just said about Severus," Draco interrupted him. "Need I remind you that it was I who turned on the Slytherins, not the other way around? And they've mostly just been avoiding me since I live in the room of requirements. They haven't exactly tried to curse me or anything."

"But you still take everything they put on you. You even stepped back from Quidditch. You LOVE Quidditch! How are you not frustrated?"

Now, that was just plain wrong. "Say, am I imagining my panic attacks? My eating disorder? Potter, I am in no way unaffected."

Potter clapped his mouth shut. "Then how can you stay so calm? I'm freaking out. I'm Voldemort's puppet! His WINDOW into every conversation I hold! Even this one! How on EARTH am I supposed to deal with that?" He looked at Draco as if he had the answers. Had Draco paid more attention in his past life, maybe he'd had them.

Draco shook his head. "No one is expecting you to take it well. You have every reason and every right to be frustrated by all of this. But you must understand that you're not just a random figure in this war. You're not just some random kid that happened to survive the Dark Lord."

"I was a baby! I have no idea what happened back then! Why does everyone still think I know anything? All I had was luck!"

"That's not the point, Potter. There is something about you that will be the key to defeat the Dark Lord. YOU are the key to defeat him. Otherwise you wouldn't have survived. I'm sure that Dumbledore takes on these missions to figure out what makes you so special. Whatever this connection between you and the Dark Lord is, it's currently a danger to those missions. But once he knows what it is, once you can control your side of the connection, you will be a greater weapon for the order than anything they can find in the ministry."

Potter stared at him. "You know about the... of course you do, why am I even asking," Harry paused. "What do you mean, I'm a weapon?"

Draco thought of Potter reviving from the dead. Thought about Potter's final expiliarmus, thought about Potter's speech at the final duel, that Potter's death would prevent any more deaths by Voldemort's hand. "I don't know, Potter. I have absolutely no idea. All I know is that right now, you need to be patient."

"And how do I do that? How can I stay calm when I'm apparently Voldemort's personal spy? How can I not be frustrated when I can't trust myself? I can't even deal with Umbridge! How am I supposed to face Voldemort?"

Draco waited, wondering if Potter was done, or if he needed any more pointers.

"I don't WANT to be the key." Potter looked up and looked downright miserable.

That was Draco's sign. "Some things are just beyond our control. Just like I can't change who's son I was born as. As I can't change how I was raised or what I've been through. Even if, somehow, it were all undone, the memories remain. You cannot change the role you play in this war. That doesn't mean you have to do it all on your own. You don't have to figure it out by yourself. You have Granger and Weasley. You have all the members in the DA. You have Sirius and the rest of the Order. Eventually, you will fight back."

"But I don't want to! I don't want to be the hero!"

"But you've already made your choice," Draco argued back.

Harry frowned. "When have I ever made a choice?"

Draco paused. "You're a Gryffindor. You always do the right thing."

"Pff. Tell that to Pettigrew."

Draco assume that one was fair. "Potter, you're teaching the DA. You fought the Dark Lord in our first and second year. No clue what you did in third year but no doubt it was something heroic. You've risked your life just to retrieve Cedric's body last year, even though the Dark lord was right behind you. You've ALWAYS made that choice. This isn't luck, Potter. A lucky man doesn't get into these situations. A lucky man doesn't need to get out alive, he doesn't choose to confront the heir of Slytherin in the Chamber of Secrets. You've always been a hero. You always do everything in your power to protect as many people as you can. NO ONE told you to go and face the Basilisk, Quirrel or the Dementors but you still went. And you'd do it again given the chance. And maybe that's why destiny chose you."

Potter stared at Draco like he had gone mad.

Draco chuckled. "I would prefer if destiny chose someone who wasn't so goddamn suicidal though."

That made Potter shut up for an irritating long time. There was something in his gaze that Draco couldn't describe. It was like a gleam. As if Draco had given him something that now shone from those eyes. When Potter finally opened his mouth, he averted his gaze. "It's not like I don't want to help. I just feel like everyone expects too much from me. I don't know what to do. And even with all this -," he waved at Draco. "I can't stay still. You're calm even though you're stressed. How do I calm myself?"

Draco smiled. "Well... Always focus on the important tasks first. How about I show you some of my breathing exercises? They are more for panic attacks and such things. But I'm sure they can help when you're frustrated, too."

"I know how to breathe."

"You'd be surprised," Draco smirked.

When Christmas morning finally came, Draco hadn't exactly counted himself as included in the whole gift giving procedure. In fact, he had been content to remain in his room for the entire procedure. It could also be that over his discoveries with the Horkruxes and his previous plan to just hide in the room of requirements, he had completely forgotten about buying anything. Which only enforced his desire to stay in here and to not talk to anyone.

Saint Potter, however, decided that breathing exercises counted as a bonding moment. And that apparently meant that he was now allowed to break into Draco's room at random and throw him off the bed. He meant that literally. Draco wouldn't even deny that he flinched, the very moment Potter burst through the door.

"Come on, Malfoy. Breakfast."

How any person could be so lively in the morning was beyond Draco. How could anyone EVER be so lively? Nothing he could do now. He was forcefully dragged out of the room under heavy protest. Again, literally. Draco tried to save himself by grabbing onto any furniture he could reach. l Potter scoffed and freed the bed from Draco's grasp, before he grabbed his arms and pulled him backwards. "NOOOO, My bed!"

To be fair, his current biggest fear was that since Potter hadn't heaved him up, the pull of the ground on his pyjamas would take them off. If you have siblings, you will understand (not that Draco did).

Potter was already cackling. "You're. Coming. WITH ME." Which proved to be difficult when Draco hooked his foot between the banister of the stairs to stop Potter. Unfortunately, his hysterics made him a bubbling, laughing mess.

They passed Granger in the hallway who must have dropped in for Christmas because this was the first time Draco had seen her. Then again, she might have dropped in while he had kept himself holed up in Regulus' room.

She watched the entire interaction with a bewildered expression. Draco flushed a bit. But Potter paused just enough for them both to waved at her, before Potter continued to drag him down the stairs.

In hindsight, Draco thought it was poor luck that neither of them had fallen down the stairs or broken anything in the process. At the bottom of the stairs, Draco finally got another hold on the banister with one of his hand. Which made Potter grab him by the ankle again. Eventually, Potter had managed to get him into the kitchen. Draco was still laughing hysterically on the kitchen floor. As he brushed himself off, the laughter faded to a chuckle. Then, his smile fell. Potter's remained.

Granger's staring was apparently not the only thing that would greet him this morning. Pretty much all the Weasley's were sitting around the Christmas tree and had stopped unpacking their presents. He awkwardly stepped on his own foot to have something to do. "Ehm. Good morning."

"Good Morning, Draco," said Ronald who seemed a lot less surprised than anyone else. Well, he had known Potter the longest, so that was only fair.

Granger took that moment to walk in as well to greet everyone. Potter somehow hadn't noticed what he had done and fell onto his presents like a child.

Draco shook his head, still feeling the previous laughter fuck with his voice and sat down at a free place at the table. He cleared his throat to seem somewhat dignified. Kreacher promptly brought him waffles and eggs and coffee. Draco thanked him and for once, felt pretty content with his morning.

Then, Draco watched as the Weasleys and Potter unpacked their presents. Potter glanced at him in between unpacking. No one said anything about Draco and their present situation. Which was quite the relief.

Draco felt bad about forgetting, he didn't really mind not getting any of his own. Perhaps next year, he'd make an effort. He was just glad that no one commented on his lonesome existence.

"Where is Sirius?," asked Potter eventually.

The question was directed at Molly Weasley who had just walked in and got herself some more coffee. "Ah, he's taking care of Buckbeak."

Draco choked on his waffle. His wrist in front of his mouth, he coughed out a very clear, "what?"

Potter laughed. "Oh my god. Right, I forgot about that." He seemed to take it with a lot more humour than Draco could.

As if Draco would ever forget the hippogriff that had been meant to be executed in their third year. Draco had been told the thing disappeared. NO ONE had told him that Sirius Black had somehow used the creature to flee from the premises until Harry told him right that second. Of fucking course! How else would Sirius Black have escaped from the highest tower in Hogwarts? But why the fuck was that thing in this house? This wasn't an animal shelter!

"Oh my god. Hermione, can I tell him the rest of the story? PLEASE," Harry said that, as if Hermione was the authority on it. And honestly? Who was Draco to doubt that.

"Harry!" She sounded like a disappointed, yet somewhat flattered mom.

Draco reconsidered. "I don't think I want to know, really."

Ronald furrowed his eyebrows. "Is it okay, if he knows? How do we know he won't get another executioner for Buckbeak? Also, thanks, mom. We're supposed to call him Witherwings!"

Molly blushed at her mistake. "Ah, you're right. I'm so sorry. I forgot it had something to do with him.... But he's been so kind these past few days, even to Kreacher! I didn't think - Well, dear, it is what it is."

It was Potter who spoke up for Draco. "It's no problem, Mrs. Weasley. I mean, what would Draco do, anyway? Tell the government he hung out with his cousin Sirius Black for Christmas? I'm sure Buckbeak would be their least concern."

Draco couldn't help but agree in his mind. But he didn't have to point that out!

"Since when are you two so close?" Weasley suddenly asked, reasonably confused. "Did something happen between the two of you?"

Draco would have loved to make an innuendo at this point, but knew ultimately that they'd all take it too serious. Still. Since when was Potter so comfortable around him? The conversation from last night couldn't have been it. After all, Potter CHOSE to come to him for advise. Had he really just been worried about Draco, he'd have asked Draco questions, or at least not stayed for as long as he had.

Had it been the conversation in the hallway of St. Mungo's? Or had something happened during their private DA lessons that Draco somehow missed? Or before that, when Draco ate with them during lunch? Or perhaps on the train? Draco couldn't tell. Maybe during the few times he had eaten with the Gryffindors? Since when did Potter trust him? Where was sixth year Potter who had stalked him all year out of the vague sense that he may be up to something?

"Well, Draco hasn't been a complete ass all term. So... I figured we're fine."

That answered none of his never posed questions but Draco wasn't about to interrogate him further. Especially not when the door bell rang and Remus announced the homecoming of Arthur Weasley. That put an end to all their conversations.

Winter break passed as time did. Finally, they said their goodbyes and returned to Hogwarts. Kreacher had been in tears. Sirius had been beaming at them and Potter kept muttering a disappointed, "Draco hasn't even seen Padfoot yet." Draco wisely decided not to ask.

What seemed to take an eternity were the controls in front of the school gates. The anticipated moment had come. Draco swallowed hard. Draco couldn't help but feel pretty anxious, despite knowing he had little to worry about. His plan was perfectly sound, he knew as he glanced down at the heavy jewellery around his neck.

Severus Snape was with Filch on these controls, as he always was. It possibly had to do with the fact that Dumbledore trusted him a lot more than seemed reasonable. Perhaps it had to do with how capable Severus was in everything regarding the Dark Arts and Counter Curses. Perhaps Severus had insisted to supervise the chase. Who knew? Perhaps he was trying to smuggle something into the castle himself?

Draco took a deep breath. No. Future Harry Potter had praised Snape for his sacrifices and the role he had/ would (have) play(ed) in the war. Draco may doubt a lot of the stuff Dumbledore had done but Potter had gotten the job done in the end. He must have had figured out all the pieces of this puzzle. His word, Draco trusted.

"That is a beautiful necklace you have, Mr. Malfoy."

If Draco had ever been thrown off by anything, then it would be the word 'beautiful' coming out of Snape's mouth.

"Thank you. I made it myself." Draco sent him a smile.

Snape's eyes remained cold and calculating as they most often were. He pulled Draco aside and opened his hand. "Let me see."

Draco shrugged and pulled the locket off over his head to hand it to his godfather. Who then promptly inspected the thing like it would curse him upon touching. After coming from a Black estate, Severus had every right to be suspicious of Draco. Hell, Draco was a Malfoy. His father had been smuggling dark artefacts all his life, they should always be wary of him. Snape even put a tissue around the locket. That wasn't even rude, considering the things Draco had smuggled into the castle in his sixth year.

"Professor Dumbledore has informed me of your request to teach Mr. Potter occlumency. I am surprised Potter confided in you about our little... extra lessons." Snape performed a few magical tests on the locket, and came back with nothing.

Draco smiled. "I offered Potter the lesson first. He's been facing the Dark Lord quite often, I supposed it would only be a matter of time before he would need it. Besides, his dreams about the ministry seemed too accurate to me to be natural. There must be a connection between him and the Dark Lord and I wanted to offer him a chance to face that. It's nothing against you, Professor. In fact, I had expected you'd prefer not to look into his mind. I figured you'd be relieved." Ah, his nerves still had a cold icy grasp on Draco's stupid mouth.

Snape sent him an odd glance. "I admit I am not eager for this job, Mr. Malfoy-" He paused and handed Draco the locket back with distaste. Draco put it back around his neck. "But you cannot expect me to believe that you came to this conclusion on your own. Professor Dumbledore himself has been speculating on the nature of this connection for years. You would need an extended knowledge on magic and its inner workings to come up with such assumptions. And you still haven't told me who taught you occlumency in the first place."

Draco bided his time, just shrugging and fondling the locket a bit. "Well... I don't know the inner workings on dark spells as much as I like to brag. But I know a little about the human mind. And just seeing things happen and those things coming true, is rare, even for wizards. Potter has not an ounce of divine power. He's not the type. If he did, he'd have more than one dream and definitely not one so detailed. And this isn't the first time I knew something about Potter that passed right over other people's head. Back in second year, everyone thought Potter was Salzar Slytherin's heir just because he spoke parsel."

"Except for you." Snape's mouth twitched. Draco knew that was concealed pride.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not a fool, Severus. Potter isn't the type to kill muggleborns. And there is just no way he's related to Salazar Slytherin. The point is, odd things happen around Potter. Especially when the Dark Lord is involved. Potter gets headaches when he's around, he can talk to snakes like the Dark lord himself, and lets not forget he managed to evade his death curse with an expiliarmus last year. Something's off. I don't need to be a genius to notice it. I know how it feels when the mind gets invaded. Potter's descriptions match that to a T." Of course, Draco left out the fact that most of his knowledge came from articles in the future. That didn't mean he knew everything, naturally. Potter and Granger had conveniently left out the part with the Horkruxes. Possibly to keep people from trying to mimic Voldemort's rise.

Snape stared at him. "Do you have any MORE OBVIOUS insights on the matter, or am I supposed to assume your sudden omnipotence is limited?"

Draco snorted. "Professor, will that be all, or are you about to inspect my brain on dark spells?"

Actually, now that Draco thought about it, that sounded like a pretty reasonable idea. He still didn't know how or why he had been sent back in time. Might as well be a curse.

"No. Or course not." Snape paused when Draco turned to leave. "Actually, there is one thing. You have been informed that Professor Dumbledore wants to speak with you, I hope?"

Draco paused and nodded carefully.

Snape barely noticeably nodded. "He has not returned yet. You may have to wait for another week or two."

Draco bit the inside of his lip. "Of course, Sir." Inwardly, he cursed. He didn't want to have that blasted Horkrux for any longer than necessary.

So, he brought his things inside.

Draco had noticed how Potter had watched him during the entire exchange. Potter's eyes were narrowed in suspicion but he never mentioned it afterwards. He simply nodded at Draco and shoved his hands in his pockets as he waited for Ronald and Hermione to follow him.

The Gryffindor's waved him goodbye as they brought their own stuff back to the Gryffindor dorms, while Draco was left to sneak his things back to the room of requirements. Once inside, he took a breather and sat down on his freshly made bed.

"Kreacher," he said loudly. The houseelf appeared right before him. "It worked," he said instead of an explanation and pulled off the locket, watching Kreacher do the same with the original. They exchanged the lockets and the houseelf bowed deeply.

"It is an honour to serve you, Master Draco," he said, sniffling.

Draco gave him a painful smile. "No, Kreacher. Really. Thank you. I would have never gotten this past the walls otherwise."

Kreacher looked up. "Kreacher does not understand why master Draco must carry the fake one around in Hogwarts. I could have brought it here without you gaining unwanted attention."

Draco smiled. "Well... perhaps. But now Snape knows I brought a jewel inside. He checked it and made sure it wasn't cursed. Now, if he ever sees it again, he will look past it. No one can question me how I got it inside and no one suspects a thing."

"Will you wear it in the hallways?"

Draco snorted. "Of course not. Last I need is someone find it pretty enough to steal. No. I'll leave it here until I have access to Dumbledore's office." Draco also didn't like how the jewel affected him.

The houself bowed. "Of course, Sir. Master Draco has thought this through."

Draco shook his head. "I want to continue Regulus' work. I need to help Potter win this war. I can't half ass anything." Thoughtfully, Draco lay back on his sheets.

"Does Mr. Potter also wish to continue Master Regulus' work?," asked Kreacher, suspiciously curious.

Draco faced the elf seriously. "I believe it to be the other way around. Regulus evened the way for Potter. Potter is the chosen one and he is the one that Regulus has waited for."

Kreacher's eyes widened. "Master Draco believes that person is Mr. Potter?"

Draco nodded with emotion. "I know it."

The elf bowed once more. Then he disappeared into thin air, along with the fake necklace. Finally, Draco could breathe.

The next week proved to be more difficult than Draco had hoped. Not because of the locket. Because of the DA. Draco hadn't read the News for so long that Bellatrix' escape from Azkaban had completely slipped his mind. A part of him had been sure she was already waiting for him. That as soon as he returned to the manor, he'd be greeted by the mad glint in her eyes.

The Slytherins were hunched over their tables, probably discussing whom of the escapees they were related to. The other houses were loudly exchanging the stories of the murders the prisoners had been responsible for.

It was only when Neville's name fell that Draco came to a complete standstill, finally connecting the dots on why Longbottom had been avoiding him up until now. He had assumed Neville was just busy, now Draco realised the boy was mad at him! As soon as Draco made the connection, he searched for Neville in the Great Hall and pulled him away from his seat next to a Gryffindor Draco didn't know. The Gryffindor had leaned in far too close anyway, inquiring on Neville with dozens of questions that made him visibly anxious.

As soon as they were in the hallway, Neville ripped his sleeve from Draco's grip.

"You've been avoiding me."

Neville tried to remain calm, but his agitation was visible on his face. "You knew." It was simple and full of accusation. "You knew Bellatrix Lestrange would be broken out of Azkaban and you didn't do anything!"

"Do?!" Draco stared at him, feeling an uncalled rage dwell up. "What the hell was I supposed to do? I'm an Ex Death Eater with PTSD in the body of a fifteen year old, whose worst trauma is about to repeat itself. You think I can just walk up to the Dark Lord and say something like 'yeah, you know what? NOT cool man. My buddy Neville here doesn't really like your favourite lap dog. Can you like... leave her in her cage?'"

Neville's glare dimmed just a little. "That's not what I meant, Draco. You could have TOLD me she was gonna break out. I was completely unprepared. I woke up and suddenly everyone is talking about her and now everyone knows what she did to my parents. It was my choice when and how to tell people. Now... it isn't a choice anymore."

Draco lowered his head. He knew. He understood. Of course he did. It was the first thing he realised the second he heard Neville's name being shared among the hall that morning. He'd just had too much on his mind lately. Then he nodded, as he thought about it further. "They really shouldn't include victim names in the News."

Neville exhaled a deep breath and crossed his arms defensively. "You should have told me."

Draco nodded once more, then leaned against the alcove he had pulled Neville into. "I told you about the Dark Lord taking residence in my house by the end of the year, right? He will bring her there. It's been years since it happened and I tried to- I don't have all my memories in perfect order and I somehow forgot she was even locked up. Too preoccupied with the idea that she's even alive. I... I kept thinking that she was already at the manor. I'm terrified to see her. I didn't do it on purpose."

Neville looked like he was about to say something, but then suddenly stopped. "In the hospital... you got weird when you talked about her. And you ... you seem afraid. Did she do something to you?"

Draco lowered his gaze, a hollowness filling his mind. "Does it matter? We both know, what my aunt did to your parents was way worse. Otherwise they wouldn't be in the state that they're in. I had feared that was the reason why you were avoiding me. Everyone knows I'm related to her. They probably wonder why you even hang out with me."

Neville stared at him, something seemed to click in his mind. "Draco - What. Did she do." He ignored everything else that Draco had said.

Draco winced at that look. He didn't want to lie to Neville, so he didn't. He'd see, then, that Draco was panicking over nothing. "The Dark Lord has methods to look into someone's mind. His followers are allowed to learn to close their minds off of him. In a twisted way, that's his way of pretending he trusts us. My mother insisted that aunt Bella was good at legilimens. So she... trained me to close my mind."

Neville sat down beside him. "What... what does that mean?" He seemed to sense that Draco didn't feel comfortable with this story.

Draco winced again. "She would invade my mind at random. Be it night or day. If I were awake or not. It's why I can't sleep. It's not nightmares alone. It's the fear that I'm never save. When she got frustrated with my failings, she'd use the cruciatus on me. When I finally managed to shut her out, she'd practiced it on me even more, claiming that I should be able to shut my mind off under any circumstances." Draco grabbed his left arm again. He didn't like the way Neville's expression changed. "She would practice the imperius on me, to see if I learned anything. If I would follow her bidding or not, if I could keep her out then too. I could never...," Draco choked, feeling embarrassed. Potter had managed to keep a Death Eater out of his brain when he had been fourteen for Slazar's sake! It was pathetic, really. "I couldn't stop her. The imperius makes one feel so warm and save... I couldn't bring myself to fight it off. And well... failing isn't fun." Draco's voice dropped at the end.

Neville's eyes were wide. And Draco cursed himself for mentioning it.

"You're still right. I should have told you. I didn't... I didn't THINK about it. I forgot when it happened. Perhaps I told myself that it never did. Perhaps I hoped that if I ignored it, it would always stay a part of the future." Draco did not expect the tight embrace he then received. Especially right out here in the hallway! He chuckled without hugging back. "What's this for?"

Neville let go of him. "You seriously need to ask?"

Draco shrugged uncomfortably. "It's nothing."

Neville whacked him on the head. "It's not nothing! Merlin! I know my parents went through shit, Draco. But that doesn't make your experiences any less valid! Since when are you like this? Two years ago you cried over a scratch on your arm and now you pretend you're fine after literal torture!"

"To be fair, it technically didn't happen yet," Draco pointed out, contrasting his own points, and earned another whack on the head.

"See to it that it doesn't," Neville warned. "I wouldn't wish that on the old you. Even less on the you that you are now. We're friends now. You'd do well to remember that!"

Draco nodded, his eyes suddenly stinging. What the actual fuck. Draco hurried to wipe of a single tear, hoping it wasn't too obvious.

Neville halted in open surprise. "Are you crying?"

Draco shook his head, back turned to Neville. "No?"

"You definitely are. Is it because I called you a friend?"

Draco laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, I've had friends before... that's not-...." He took a deep shuddering breath before he decided he was okay with admitting it. "You said you wouldn't wish that on the old me." How embarrassing, Draco growled as he felt his own face flushing. Yes, he'd had friends before, but not friends like this.

Neville frowned. "Did you think you deserved it back then?"

Draco couldn't help that the next tear wasn't just visible, but that he couldn't stop the damn thing from running down his cheek. Neville made that sound like he hadn't. He angrily wiped it off. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Draco, could it be that you actually hate yourself?" Neville's voice was low as if he couldn't believe it. As if it was such an extraordinary thing for Draco to have some self awareness.

Draco remained quiet for a moment. "I don't have a lot of reasons to like myself, to be honest. But I'm working on it. I promise, I can make this right. Somehow." If only he knew that he was doing the right thing, then maybe he could eventually deserve it. Sure, he was now hunting the Horkruxes but what if that made him a liability? What if by him fighting the battles, they would lose the war? What if instead of protecting these people, they would end up dead because Draco had decided to meddle with things?

Draco remembered all too well what making decisions had cost him. What not making any had brought him. He remembered it too well and he didn't fear that it WOULD happen again. He feared that it HAD to.

"I'm not going to tell you how to feel about yourself. If you're really working on it, then you know that already. I'll be there, if you need me," Neville tried, his smile a bit lopsided, as if he wasn't quite sure how to support Draco, but nailing it anyway.

It made you wonder how Neville had ended up being so alone all those years ago. Neville was perhaps the kindest soul Draco had ever encountered. Yet he had been on his own from year one to four. Then, in fifth year, he became part of the DA. From then on out, he became a leading figure in the war. How could someone just... jump like that? Be this incredible? "You need to be careful, Neville. If you keep being this nice, I might develop a crush on you," said Draco and almost meant it.

Neville cracked a smile and shook his head. "Very funny, Draco." He rolled his eyes. But he seemed to understand that Draco wanted to break out of the strange mood.

They were, and Draco flushed at all the gazes, still inside a crowded hallway. It was too loud to suspect anyone had overheard them but still. He had been crying and that was sure to leave another dent on his re- ah well, fuck that. They were hidden in an alcove and the other students were all rushing in and out of the Great Hall.

Neville clapped him on the shoulder. "I believe it's time for lunch. And after that, well... you know." The last part was whispered and he wiggled his eyebrows.

Draco nodded, knowing he meant DA lessons. "Of course."

At lunch, Draco and Neville were best buds again. It made many wary heads turn to them. Draco almost enjoyed it, if they didn't go out of their way to remind him of Bellatrix.

It turned out that Draco's conversation with Dumbledore coincidentally fell on the same day that Harry had his first occlumency lessons with Snape.

As a precaution, Harry asked Draco a bit about what to expect and Draco advised him to become aware of the sensation first. How did it feel to be invaded?

"The important part is that you recognise what thoughts are yours and which ones aren't. It can help to focus on your surroundings first, to get a feeling for the difference. Once you managed that, you can force them out. You have a strong will and you will need it. It will feel a bit like forcing yourself to stay awake, when you're in the middle of falling asleep."

"I see," said Potter and Draco knew that Potter had no idea what he was talking about.

"I mean it, Potter. You don't WANT Professor Snape in your head. So don't let him."

"I'll try."

"Good."

Potter stared at him for a few moments. Then he suddenly changed the topic. "Are you alright?"

Draco blinked. "What?"

Potter averted his eyes, only to play with the hem of his shirt. "You just... You seemed to have had a fight with Neville. And I mean... your aunt broke out of Azkaban and I assume that's what that was about, right?"

Draco twitched a smile. "You know what? I think you'd be a lot better at legilimency. You can already read my mind. Maybe instead of forcing the Dark Lord out, you should invade HIS mind, instead."

Potter twitched, seeing the distraction for what it was and ignored it. "So... everything's alright between you two?"

Draco nodded. "We talked about it, yes. And I threatened him to like me again."

"No, you didn't." Potter's eyes were almost fond. The green of them twinkled in such an affectionate way, it made Draco feel very wary of him. "You two hugged it out. I can tell."

"Seriously. Were you watching us? This is creepy." Draco rolled his eyes. "Focus on your lesson today, alright? Just try not to upset Severus too much. Do what he says and focus. Stay awake, Potter."

Potter then saluted and Draco had the feeling that he had learned that from Sirius.

"Good. I'll go and talk some sense into Professor Dumbledore," said Draco and soon, Potter walked out of the room of requirements. An hour ago, he had still been teaching Draco a few shielding spells. Ironic, considering where Potter was headed now.

Sighing, Draco left the room as well and transformed it back into his bedroom. From his nightstand, he pulled out the Horkrux and put it around his neck, hiding it underneath his sweater. Then, he took a deep breath and walked towards Professor Dumbledore's office.

...

The room was as round and full of nonsensical objects as it always had been. In the corner of the room slept the legendary phoenix. Dumbledore himself was nowhere to be seen, however, which gave Draco enough time to roll his eyes at the password that Snape had given him for the night. 'orange gummibears.' Draco knew without a doubt that Dumbledore was just changing the colour every week. Without anything to do, Draco sighed and walked around, touching things he probably shouldn't touch and watching portraits that were whispering about him. They seemed to have a very clear opinion on the type of person that Draco was. None of them cut it close.

Eventually, Draco halted in front of the vitrine that Dumbledore had put the sword of Gryffindor in. It truly was a remarkable artefact. Draco sighed, feeling both amazed to see it and wary of it. His hand wandered over the golden designs of the vitrine, feeling the glass and protective magic around it.

The locket didn't seem to like it. From one moment to the other, the necklace tried to shorten around his neck and something seemed to be screaming at him. Draco could hear it, even against his mind shield. Because of COURSE it knew. Draco ripped the thing from his neck before it would completely fuck up his air circulation. He smacked the thing on the vitrine, watching in awe how the object moved away from it. Thankfully, Draco's hand was still around the silver necklace, keeping it from falling down. Just like that, Draco's suspicions were confirmed.

"Mr. Malfoy."

Draco swirled around, hiding the locket behind his back and looked at a surprisingly tired looking Professor Dumbledore, who had, apparently, appeared out of nowhere. Draco felt almost relieved, were his heart not still racing so loud.

"Please, sit."

Draco blinked as Dumbledore gestured at him to take a seat right in front of his desk. Dumbledore wasn't even questioning his actions from before. Draco doubted that the man hadn't noticed. Draco swallowed but did as he was told and followed Dumbledore to his giant desk. When Draco sat down, Dumbledore did the same on the opposite side of the table. And for a moment, there was complete silence.

Dumbledore eventually seemed to realise that Draco wasn't going to break the awkward moment, so he did it instead. "The sword of Gryffindor is quite intriguing, I must admit. But you never struck me as the type who enjoys muggle inspired weaponry. Well, until the beginning of the semester that is. Professor Snape has informed me that you have made a lot of odd decisions this year."

Draco shrugged. There was no point in denying it. And then, to fully expose himself, he finally placed the locket on the table. He kept his fist around the necklace, hoping the thing wouldn't walk away. Dumbledore's eyes skipped to it curiously. "Mr. Malfoy. I will be blunt. I saw this locket move earlier. Am I correct in assuming that it's cursed? If this is a scheme to get me killed, you're not being subtle. You're not a murderer, Draco." The conclusion was the same he had made in sixth year on the Astronomy tower, moments before he had died.

It was surprising though that he hadn't looked past that yet. Draco blinked. Then he let go of the necklace. Dumbledore didn't touch it. He just looked at it curiously.

"If I was intending to kill you, I wouldn't come here by myself, unless it were my last resort. I'm not here to curse you. I want this locket destroyed in the name of Regulus Black. And you are the only person I know who has the needed tools to do so." Then Draco smiled. "I hoped you would consider it a favour."

Their eyes met and Draco felt something pressing against his mind blockade. It didn't push past, more like curiously nudged against it. Dumbledore's mind was a lot less persistent than Snape's was. A lot less sharp. It made up for it in intensity. It could easily be confused as a nice, supportive and warm feeling, instead of an invasion. Draco still caught the legilimency tactic for what it was.

"Regulus Black. How am I to understand that?," asked Dumbledore, looking at him underneath his square glasses. There was no expression Draco could read.

Draco tilted his head. "Are you not searching for the Dark Lord's Horkruxes?"

Despite his unblinking eyes, Dumbledore sitting up proved that he was surprised. "How have you come across that term?" So he was going to pretend he hadn't been completely off the mark before. It felt like a victory and Draco relaxed.

"Padfoot, as you like to call him, put me in his younger brother's room. While searching through his things, I learned quite a number of things," Draco began slowly. "One, Regulus Black didn't die in a mission for the Dark Lord. He died in the attempt to find this thing. And he left instructions on how to destroy it. Second, if you treat a houseelf the way they deserve, they might help you out, when you need them."

Dumbledore was once again silent. He seemed to understand what Draco was implying, but he didn't comment on it. As always, Dumbledore liked to keep his true intentions hidden. "Are you sure this is what you claim it is, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco nodded, confident in his answer. "I am. That's why I'm here."

"I was under the impression that you came here to persuade me let you instruct Harry in occlumency instead of Professor Snape."

Draco hated a little, how Professor Dumbledore remained so calm. He had half hoped to shock the man enough to show more of a reaction. But no. He remained as calm as he had, back when Draco was about to kill him on the astronomy tower.

"That too. I don't think Severus should have too much insight on Potter's mind. But I also figured that you have reasons not to trust me."

"That is Professor Snape to you, Mr. Malfoy. To think that you, of all people, trust him so little. I have already pleaded my case about Severus multiple times -"

"And I'm not contradicting that," said Draco. "I mean that Potter should have someone that HE trusts looking into his head if it has to be done. Professor Snape and him don't exactly have the best relationship. And I can't imagine Professor Snape being very patient, let alone kind with him. It has nothing to do with which sides he's on, or how trustworthy he is."

Dumbledore regarded him for another moment. "And now you brought me this Horkrux to gain my trust?"

Draco schooled his face into an equally calm expression, but couldn't help the snort that escaped him. "Definitely not. As I said, I want it destroyed."

There was a moment of silence, in which it seemed that Dumbledore was processing Draco's words. His usually all knowing, wise eyes seemed oddly transparent to Draco. Perhaps it was because they both knew what the original plan against Voldemort was. They both knew the truth behind most things. Dumbledore had always seemed like someone who could read the future. With that, they were kind of on the same page. On the other hand, Dumbledore was unable to invade his mind. Perhaps that's why he didn't feel like Dumbledore could fully dissect him with a glance.

"How much did you tell Harry?," Dumbledore finally said, as if he believed Draco to be a blabbering twat.

Draco had half a mind to feel insulted. "Nothing. As long as he can't master occlumency, I'm afraid the Dark Lord would find out what we know."

"You're aware of the connection between them?"

Draco nodded. And then paused, surprised that Severus hadn't informed Dumbledore of that fact.

"What else do you know?"

Then, Draco blinked up. He didn't know what it was. Perhaps because he wasn't thinking about ways to defeat the Dark Lord but only Potter's safety, maybe because he distrusted Dumbledore, yet trusted him to be capable of nearly anything, but something pricked at Draco's mind. It wasn't odd that Dumbledore had asked that question, but... Something seemed wrong. Like a stray puzzle piece that Draco had overlooked. Was there more to the connection between Potter and the Dark Lord? Somehow, Draco had the feeling that whatever it was should be obvious.

Then, Dumbledore's eyes fall on the Horkrux on the table between them.

It was that single glance that hit it home, that dropped the pin. Draco had had that moment where he had considered that Potter's wand was a Horkrux. That that would explain why Voldemort couldn't defeat him, that that explained why they had a connection. But it ran deeper than that. Draco had been wrong, but only by mere inches. It explained everything. Why Potter's scar hurt all the time, why their minds were connected, why Potter could speak parsel, when VOLDEMORT was the heir of Slytherin. It would explain why Potter survived the death curse in the forest. It explained why Potter went to face him without putting up a fight.

Draco moth was slightly parted, his eyes intensely focused on the locket on the table.

He couldn't breathe.

"Potter is a Horkrux," he whispered, and his heart felt like it wanted to break out of his chest. He met Dumbledore's eyes who stared back as if seeing Draco for the first time. And this man had planned everything. Anger, burning hot and nearly impossible to tame licked at his insides. Never before had Draco hated a man with such an intensity.

Dumbledore leaned heavy on his hands. He was staring at Malfoy as if he were an enigma that he needed to solve. "So we have the same suspicion," he confirmed to Draco's horror and picked up the locket. He wasn't commenting on the terrifying knowledge that Potter himself needed to be killed for the world to be saved. As if this was completely fine. Draco felt sick. "You found this in Grimmauld place?"

Draco nodded, eyes fixed on the wood of the table. "Potter has to die," he stated. He had heard the sentence often, but never from his heroes. The worst part was, Draco understood. "Is there no other way?"

Dumbledore turned to him. "You seem calm about this."

Draco wouldn't exactly call it calm, yet he nodded at Dumbledore without meeting his eyes. He was understandably in shock, but he already knew that Harry could survive it. That he had, in his own time. "If this is the only way Potter can defeat the Dark Lord than I believe that's the path he will choose." He gritted his teeth. He didn't like this at all. A conflicted feeling got stuck in his throat, making swallow it down.

"You make that sound as if you already know what's going to happen."

Draco didn't dare move. He didn't want to talk about this anymore. He wanted to get to bed and cry himself to sleep. But he wasn't quite done yet. "I know you're protecting the prophecy within the ministry. The one about the Dark Lord and Potter. I bet it knows more than I do."

A small hint of shock stole itself into Dumbledore's eyes. Draco would have missed it were he not paying attention. "Mr. Malfoy. Where on earth did you get by this information? Did Harry tell you?"

"Does it matter? Two things. We need to destroy that prophecy, lest it falls into the Dark Lord's hands, and, we need to find the Horkuxes before the Dark Lord knows what we're doing."

Dumbledore smiled. It was an infuriating smile. He leaned forward, either to intimidate Draco, or to feign trust. "We, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I'm helping," Draco said as a matter of fact, sounding braver than he felt. "I found this one. Potter destroyed the diary in his second year. I'm certain there are more."

The information that Draco also knew about the diary had Dumbledore quirk an interested brow. "And do you have any idea where they are?" Dumbledore sounded almost amused at this point. "Don't get me wrong. If your theory about this object here is right, then you've just given us a fundamental chance to defeat Voldemort. But I can assure you, they won't be easily located. I've been searching for them for months."

"I have a vague sense on a few of their whereabouts, yes," said Draco sternly, ignoring the rest. "Of course it would be easier, if I knew how many Horkruxes there are."

Dumbledore was either in deep shock, or thinking hard about what Draco just said. "That is what I would like to know as well. That said, I would like to hear your ideas about their whereabouts."

Draco took a deep breath. He was quite relieved that he had come this far. That Dumbledore even believed him. Or at least listened. It seemed almost unthinkable that they were working together. In sixth year, it had been impossible to get close to him. So Draco reasoned slowly. Despite the fact that he was pretty sure about some of these whereabouts, he knew that some of his ideas may sound random. He needed to be careful with how he phrased things.

"First of all, this locket was supposed to be on some kind of island in a cave. You will have to ask Kreacher about the specifics, but I'm certain that you won't find any of the others there, just in case you get the idea to search there. Well... I figured that the diary was obviously also one. It contained enough parts of the Dark Lord to almost revive Tom Riddle in our second year. So, I was thinking, what is special about these objects, why would the Dark Lord choose them? Who would he trust to protect them? I know he trusted my father with the diary."

Dumbledore blinked. "Because your father was loyal to Voldemort, I assume?"

"Loyal to him. Terrified of him. I don't see the difference in his case," Draco waved it off. That wasn't important right now, even if it seemed to distract the headmaster. "My point is, he also gave something to aunt Bella. I know this, because she bragged about being given a more valuable object than my father was. Because it was some kind of golden cup and not an empty book. I don't know what it looks like, but I'm sure it's in her vaults in Gringotts. I don't think any of the other Death Eaters were given anything, she was quite proud of our bloodline because of that."

Dumbledore opened his mouth, his answer a bit delayed. "Are you sure?" He was listening, his chin placed on his hands, his elbows placed on the table, framing the locket.

Draco nodded. "It's not an easy place to invade, I imagine. There is another thing I can imagine. If Tom Riddle was so invested in the chamber of secrets in Hogwarts and I mean, he is a descended of Salazar Slytherin himself, how else would he be able to control the Basilisk - in hindsight it's kind of obvious that the monster would be a giant snake, don't you think?"

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said. Draco paused and Dumbledore moved for him to continue, before he jumped off topic again.

Draco bit his lip. "I suspect the snake, Nagini, might also be a Horkrux. This is all I have." He did, but he couldn't explain why the hell Voldemort would choose a diadem as an object to contain a part of his soul.

Dumbledore considered him for another moment. "You know, Tom was an outstanding student here at Hogwarts. Not unlike you. He was considered charming, trustworthy... You're quite like him."

Draco's eyes widened. In an uncontrolled moment, he jumped to his feet. "I am NOTHING like him!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I meant that you're smart, not heartless. Mr. Malfoy, I knew him as a student and also when he attempted to become a teacher here at Hogwarts. I may know something you don't. But I would like to hear your thoughts on this. Tom has always liked to keep trophies and he felt quite at home in Hogwarts. I believe, he might have been interested in collecting things that belong to the four houses. Your story just now... I believe you've just confirmed it."

Draco paused and slowly sank back down. "Objects from Hogwarts?"

"Hufflepuff's cup," answered Dumbledore. "A golden cup with a badger on it."

Draco's eyes widened. "Founder trinkets." Draco looked down. "The locket, the cup -" Draco's eyes widened impossibly. "And Ravenclaws diadem!" Now, Draco wasn't Hermione, but he too had taken an interest in the history of Hogwarts. "THE lost diadem."

Dumbledore nodded. "Now, sadly, the name suggests that the diadem is lost."

Draco shook his head vehemently. "Oh no, I know where it is."

Finally, Dumbledore's resolve cracked one last time. "Mr. Malfoy, you are full of surprises. I have not expected our conversation to head in this direction, let alone for it to be so progressive."

Draco didn't change his expression one bit. "Well. I like to surprise people."

"I have to ask you again, what happened? It's been less than a year since you were trying to battle Mr. Potter in the hallways. Now you eat at the Gryffindor table and give house points to Hufflepuffs. Professor Snape has informed me that you don't sleep in the Slytherin dorms anymore, that you have health issues and been asking for muggle therapy."

Draco paused. When he looked up, he felt that perhaps, he shouldn't lie. Dumbledore would be on his radar if he kept this up. Draco wasn't mentally stable enough to watch over his shoulder every day. He already did that way too much. Perhaps, he had made this decision long before he got here. "To be honest, Professor Dumbledore, last year was a long time ago. Longer than I imagine it was for you. This year... The war, I've seen it all."

"In a dream, perhaps?"

Draco shook his head. "No. I am 26 years old, Professor."

Dumbledore blinked. He could no longer hide his surprise. Draco had watched him long enough during this conversation to notice his tells.

"I was living my life, or rather what was left of it after the war. I worked in muggle therapy to make up for all the suffering I had caused as a Death Eater. One day, I woke up in the middle of summer break and I was fifteen again."

Dumbledore stared at him. No hint of doubt in his voice. "You're from the future?"

"Yes," said Draco, only somewhat hesitant. "You believe me?"

"Who else knows?"

"I told Neville when I met him in St. Mungo's."

Dumbledore hummed, completely ignoring the implication. He most likely already knew that Draco had had a mental breakdown at the time. Either through Draco's parents, or Severus himself.

"And you've decided to help us out, this time around?," Dumbledore asked.

Draco nodded once more. "I don't know much. I don't know how much I can help. I know little about the details of Potter's search for the Horkruxes. I didn't even know what they were at the time, and I never asked. I really did figure that out through Regulus' books. Most of what I told you, I pieced together from the News that, at the time, spoke about break ins in the Ministry or my aunt's vaults. Oh... and I knew about the diadem because the Dark Lord made me protect it..." Draco halted. "I failed, by the way."

"So, we're going to make it," said Dumbledore.

Draco sighed. "Not everyone. But yes. The Dark Lord was defeated."

Dumbledore nodded, satisfied with the answer. "And you were a Death Eater."

Of course he would ask.

"You grab your left arm, when you're anxious. And you keep saying 'Dark Lord'." Dumbledore paused. "Is this really the road you want to take, Draco? Helping the winning side?"

Draco nodded without a doubt. "I can't live in a world where all my friends turn against me. Where the people I trust turn against each other. I can't live in the manor if I have to expect my aunt torturing me in it."

"So, this is for self preservation," Dumbledore cruelly noted.

Draco almost laughed. "I'm a Slytherin. I'm not one for courage and great heroics," Draco agreed without a hint of hesitation. "I don't care about the greater good." Draco kept it at that. Deep down, he knew these were half truths but he didn't want Dumbledore to know. He didn't want him to know that Draco couldn't stand the thought of all his classmates killing each other. He couldn't tell him that he didn't want his parents to suffer under Voldemort's hand. He didn't want to tell him that Potter's death still haunted his dreams, or what a coward he had been when tasked with killing Dumbledore. Draco couldn't do it all over again. It had nothing to do with whether or not he lived. Draco could die in peace if he knew the war was over. Draco couldn't live with himself if he knew others would have to suffer like he had. He did this to be free, to get a clear conscience, to make up for his regrets and his mistakes. It was a lot more selfish than what Dumbledore made it out to be.

His last words sparked something in Dumbledore's eyes. "I understand."

Draco looked up. The greater good... Right. According to Rita Skeeter's most popular hit, Dumbledore had been ready to sacrifice anyone and anything for the greater good. Draco didn't doubt that sacrificing Potter in the end had been and was part of the plan. Just like everyone else dying within that seemingly endless war would be. Draco didn't think it was a wrong thing to do... He just also thought that Potter should punch Albus Dumbledore in the face as long as he still had the chance. "Do you?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Better than I like to admit." He blinked through his glasses. "Are you sure you are prepared to go down this road, Mr. Malfoy? I understand that you wish to survive. But putting yourself in Voldemort's way might not be the way to achieve that. You said we won once. Why not take your family and flee while you still can?"

That... hadn't even crossed his mind. "And then what? I wait with my parents in some random place in France and have a nice time while everyone I care about dies? How am I supposed to convince my parents to come with me? My father is still obsessed with the Dark Lord! And what do I do while Potter gets himself killed, twice over? Watch and cheer with a bucket of popcorn?" Draco scoffed. "I was at the very heart of the Dark Lord's circle. I wasn't just witnessing the whole thing happening, I was involved in it. I made choices that contributed to the end of this war." Draco then pulled out his wand and put it on the table, next to the locket. "THIS is the wand Potter defeated the Dark Lord with. Potter held a speech about how important it was. I don't know any details. All I know is that it played a crucial role in winning this war. And I am here now with NO idea how to recreate those circumstances, all while I mess up the past. If I run, then Potter WILL die. And I cannot let that happen!" Draco's gaze was blazing.

Dumbledore stared at him. Through him. As if what Draco had just said switched his whole perception of who Draco was yet again. "You're not just trying to be on the winning side, are you?"

Draco glared at him. "I thought we already established that I'm doing this to survive."

"To me, it sounds like you can survive on either side of this war. Which puts you in a unique position. Tell me, what made you choose the Death Eater life the first time around."

Draco blinked. "It was easier to follow him."

"No. No I don't think it was."

In the most disgusting way, Draco agreed. Draco sighed and closed his eyes before covering his face in his hands. "I believed in him."

"That doesn't sound like it had anything to do with winning, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco growled. "Well, what do you expect? The Dark Lord was the embodiment of everything my parents ever taught me! Then my father fell into his disgrace and I was their only way out of his wrath! I -"

"Sacrificed yourself to protect your family."

Draco scoffed. "You make that sound heroic. I just made bad choices."

Dumbledore seemed unnervingly pleased. "Well, Mr. Malfoy. Given your circumstances, I believe you've done what you could. Now you're choosing another route. It would be smarter and saver to make the same decisions again to ensure the end. You're choosing to live a better life. I find that quite impressive. What will you do once your family finds out what you're doing?"

"I'm surprised they don't already know."

"I'm asking you to really consider, Mr. Malfoy. If you were the only thing that could convince the Dark Lord to keep your family alive, what will happen to them? Can you just stay here and let your parents pay the price? I cannot save them for you."

"I don't expect you to protect them."

"You're not answering the question."

"That's because I don't know the answer." Draco looked at Dumbledore coldly. "All I can do, is to protect myself and give you all the information I have. My parent's choices are not my own." Draco hated that this was his final truth. That his parents might die and he could do nothing but watch because he was a coward. He closed his eyes. But they had made their choices. Now he needed to make his own.

"Then please forgive me for taking everything you can offer." Dumbledore said quietly. Draco hadn't expected a solution, or at least he tried to tell himself that he didn't. Yet, he felt a silent rage take hold of him. "In exchange, I shall allow you to teach Harry occlumency. You seem to have a good grasp on the urgency of this matter, and seem to care deeply on how your actions will affect him and the future." That was his final verdict. "That will be all. You can leave, unless there is something else you'd like to talk about."

Draco exhaled and got to his feet. "I have one last request."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"I would like locket back once it's done."

"And why is that?"

"Because it belongs to Kreacher."

Dumbledore, for the first time tonight, lost complete control on his expression. His eyes widened just a fraction. "The houseelf?"

"I'm Slytherin, Professor. We may be cunning and straight up evil. But we keep our promises." With that, Draco turned on his heels and bid the crazy jewellery goodbye. He hoped that next time he saw it, it would be shattered to pieces.