When I saw him standing in front of the mirror alone, I watched him. I wasn't going to interrupt him or ask him what was wrong. I just stood there silently. At first, Draco stared at himself for a while.

And then he started to unbutton his collar. It was as if he couldn't breathe; his lungs had constricted. Malfoy rolled up his sleeves, hair disheveled, and rested his hands on either side of the sink. He'd left the door open in his room.

He coughed, turning on the faucet and splashing cold water on his face. When he looked up at the mirror, his eyes looked almost sunken.

The effects of being torn across two sides were making him lose his mind.

Draco's hands trembled. He hung his head, sharp shoulder blades prominent.

I left before I could see the tears, but I wasn't fast enough to not hear the sobs.

*     *     *

I had to sketch out a plan. Today, Snape had brought word of crucial information.

"Harry Potter will be moving in two nights," Snape said at the table. "The trace will be off him."

Voldemort's eyes had swiveled to me. "This is the time you prove yourself," he said. "Go. Bring me all the details."

I had disapparated, only to land on the hill I'd been to with Malfoy before. What was I supposed to do, anyway? Appear in front of his house and ask him if I could join in?

Ginny had seen me leave with Malfoy. They all knew by now that I was a friend of his, which automatically tied me to the Dark Lord.

"Damn it, Voldemort," I hissed, stamping my foot against the ground. Would foundation cover up the Dark Mark?

Suddenly, someone appeared behind me. I whipped out my wand, pointing it at his throat.

"How did you find me?" I said through gritted teeth.

"The name," Malfoy smirked. "I told you."

I set the wand back in my pocket. "I suppose you can't come with me to make Harry Potter believe I'm on his side?"

"Well, you are on his side, aren't you?" Malfoy asked as if it were the most obvious thing.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, surprised. Even if I really was, he should've turned me in by now.

"I know what circumstances you came here under. Dumbledore told you to point your wand at him. He wanted you to come here. As annoying and hated as he was—"

"He was not hated."

"—He was a smart man. You're another one of his toys, swinging back and forth between two sides."

"I'm not a toy. I'm doing it for the greater good. And why haven't you said a word to Vol—" Draco shook his head, "—You-Know-Who, yet?"

"We may be on different sides, Steele," he said with a sharp glint in his eye, "but believe it or not, we could be fighting for the same thing."

"And what might that be?"

Draco didn't bother answering, walking across the grass, hands in his pockets. "You do know that Potter lives somewhere in the muggle world?"

"Well, obviously. I don't know where."

Draco turned to face me, and I realized how tall he really was, looking up. He handed me a piece of paper.

  4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

"How did you get this?" I asked, looking up. A sudden realization dawned over me. "You know, in our fifth and sixth year," I said slowly, feeling mischievous, "there were many rumors traveling the houses."

"Rumors like what?" Malfoy glowered. He started fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt.

"Well, I mean, you and Harry seemed pretty obsessed with each other for a while. Whenever you asked someone, 'what's the matter with Malfoy today?' They'd reply, 'Oh, probably something to do with Potter.' And vice versa."

Draco's entire face turned red, and I was sure everyone in a twenty-mile radius would've heard that someone named "Steele" was close by.

I cackled. "That's why you have this, then," I said, waving the piece of paper in my hand. He lunged for it, red traveling to the roots of his hair.

"Remind me to never assist you again," he said, giving me a dirty look. "You all disgust me."

"It happened in your house too, mind you. Pansy even mentioned it once or twice," I snickered, hopping away as he reached for it again.

"Whatever!"

"I'm leaving," I waved with a smirk.

"Don't show your face ever again," Malfoy scowled.

"You might need to take that up with your Dark Lord."

"Get out of here."

"You first."

He stood there, arms crossed over his chest. "And, not that I even care about those 'rumors', but I despise Potter." He glanced at me through the corner of his eye, sneakily.

I grinned. "Oh, right. I get it. Despise is a code word?"

"Shut up!"

I laughed again, getting a kick out of this. "Legend has it, when a boy likes somebody, they make the person's life a living hell. Sound familiar?"

His red face flushed darker with anguish. "I would kill you," he growled.

"On the count of three," I said, "we leave. No more arguing. One . . ."

He was still grumbling under his breath.

"Two . . . Look alive, Draco."

"I am alive."

"Stop arguing. Three!" I disapparated, seeing dark smoke that proved Draco had as well.

I looked around, finding myself standing on a dimly lit street. I looked down at the address, trying to find the right house. Ah, there it was; hedges trimmed and exceptionally neat-looking on the outside. Tidy and quaint.

I walked up to the door, knocking loudly. Moments later, I heard footsteps.

"Who is it?" I heard Harry's voice. I had a sudden urge to reply with, "Your Mum," but I bit my tongue. "Hello?"

When I didn't reply, I heard locks clicking open. I managed to stand at an angle so that he couldn't see me through the little peephole. And then, the door swung open.

Harry's eyes widened at first, shocked. And then, they turned angry. He pulled out his wand, pointing it at me.

"You're not allowed to use magic!" I shouted, raising my hands. Behind me, an old woman let out a cry of alarm. "Can we please talk inside?"

"Why should I let a traitor like you in?" Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Because it's very important. Trust me."

He looked me up and down. "If you try one thing, I will kill you."

"Fine. Deal."

He scowled, stepping back to let me in.