"Malfoy," I said as I appeared beside him, stopping to take a breath. We'd set our location on the same hill we landed on a few weeks ago. It was our meeting place every morning.

"And you look so very tired, why?" Draco turned to me, playing with the silver ring on his finger. His back was straight, and his grey eyes looked incredibly anxious even though his features remained calm.

"I haven't gotten any sleep, that's why." I straightened up, checking myself to make sure all my body parts were in place. "I can barely sleep while Dudley's whining all night about how he lost his room."

"What?"

"Nevermind. Listen," I said, walking over to him, close enough to make sure he was listening, "Potter's being moved tonight. He won't have the trace on him, that way You-Know-Who won't be able to find him. But," I pointed my index finger at the blond boy, "it also means that if the Dark Lord finds him, he can finally touch Harry and can potentially kill him if he gets the chance."

"Why don't you just tell the Dark Lord?" Draco raised his eyebrows. He reached up, his fingers wrapping around mine and pulling it down.

"I can't. I mean . . . Don't say that I said that but . . . It's . . ."

"Complicated?" Malfoy offered with a sadistic smirk. "Oh, Steele," he shook his head, "darling, you won't even last a minute when he finds out you've been playing double agent."

"I'm not really doing that. But that's why I won't say anything unless I have to, or it's useful but harmless information." I mentally patted myself on the back for that, but then realization dawned over me. I looked up at Malfoy. "Can he read minds?"

"Not really," he said with a careless shrug. I let out a sigh of relief. "But . . ." the smirk was back and I braced myself, "Snape is an expert at occlumency. He can go through anyone's memories and retrieve whatever he pleases." Malfoy patted my shoulder in mock reassurance.

I shook his hand off. "That doesn't help."

"Might I remind you it was you who put yourself in this position?" His lip curled.

"Please don't. I don't need to be reminded."

He nodded, leaning close enough for me to feel his breath on my face. It was minty, not terrible. "Perfect. I won't have to waste my breath."

"Well, you're wasting it now," I said, leaning away, my face turning a dark shade of red.

"Well, I'm not, because it's certainly bothering you."

"Yeah it's pissing me off." I reached out to push him away as he got closer.

"Good, then it's working."

"Your face," I shot back, blushing even darker (if it were possible) at the feeble comeback.

"That's not . . . You can't," he said with a laugh, finally moving back to give me space. "That makes no sense."

"Your face makes no sense."

"Are you going to keep doing that?"

"Is your face going to keep doing that?"

"What? Looking dashing?" The smirk was at its fullest across his lips. Well, yes. In a way.

I scowled, crossing my arms over my chest. Suddenly, he frowned, as if he just realized something. "Steele, did you say he was leaving tonight?"

"Yes." I let my arms fall. "Why?"

He pursed his lips. "Why would he tell you this? As a test? How can you earn his trust back in a day? I can't give you that much credit."

Of course. "If he's testing me he'll probably expect me to go blabber to You-Know-Who." My eyes widened. "Malfoy, don't say a word to him. I'll figure this out as I go. Technically, it was Snape who gave him the location, not me, so it means I haven't lied to Harry."

"It was," he nodded. "He found out there was a false trail. If you want to infiltrate you have to think clearly. Anything you do know can be used against you from both sides. You might just end up dead."

"Thank you for the words of encouragement, blondie," I glared, "but as of now, dead is good. I feel trapped."

Malfoy glanced down at the ring he constantly played with. "It's an heirloom," he said slowly, almost randomly.

I stared at his long, pale fingers, confused. "Is this really the time?"

"I can't do anything without this ring." He said, slipping it off his finger. "It's a good luck charm, you could say."

He handed it to me. Surprised, I stared down at the silver ring in my palm. "I thought you hated me. Why would you give me something so precious?"

"Well, I don't hate you. I hate Potter and his friends but there's really no reason for me to despise you. Yes, you're annoying," he said casually, as if it were a very nice thing to say, "and you always get yourself into the worst situations. But I haven't been harmed yet something you've done, so you're in the safe zone for now." His eyes tore from the ring and looked me in mine. "Steele, this is for luck. I'll be needing it back, but seeing as your mission is impossible, I'll probably be taking it off your dead body later on."

"Well excuse me . . ."

He smirked. "Really though, Steele. I need it back. So do not die."

"But why. . ."

"Sometimes," he muttered, running a hand through his blond hair, "it makes me feel bad when someone knows they're in real trouble yet they still push to do their best. Like, Steele, why would someone do that? Just let go. You know you've lost everything. Usually, those people still get in trouble and end up dead, even though they try so hard. You seem like one of those people. This ring is to give you support until you die."

"I really hate you," I said spitefully. My fingers curled around the ring. "I'll be leaving now."

"Remember, I need the ring back!" his cool voice called after me. "It's better if you come back alive with it. It saves me the trouble of looking for your body."

"Use a tracking charm!" I shouted back, disapparating.

* * *

Harry's aunt and uncle packed the rest of the bags and stuffed them into the trunk of the small car. They turned, taking a look at Harry. I watched from the window as there was an awkward silence, Harry standing below in the doorway. Suddenly, Dudley Dursley walked up to Harry, his mouth moving as they spoke. Seconds later, they shook hands. I was surprised to see a smile on Harry's face as he watched them sit in the car and drive away. Harry entered, shutting the door behind him.

I ran down the stairs. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin, yanking out his wand. "Damn it, I forgot you were here." He pressed a hand to his chest.

"Put the wand away. It's making me nervous." I inched down the steps.

"You need to leave," he said, pointing at the door, "as soon as you can."

"You still don't trust me?" I said, hurt. "What can I do to prove to you that I'm on your side, Harry?"

He didn't answer, walking away.

"Stop," I called after him. "Harry, wait." He stopped, but didn't bother turning around. "Give me this chance to prove it to you. I'll come of use to you." I jumped down to the end of the stairs, turning to face his back. "I have information on both sides, Harry. Malfoy tells me a whole lot. Understand that."

He turned around, pinching the bridge of his nose. Harry closed his eyes, done. "So you keep saying. Fine," he finally caved. "Fine. Alright."

Suddenly, someone knocked hard on the door. Harry and I whipped out our wands unanimously.

"Ready," Harry whispered under his breath as he reached forward to unlock the door. I absently pressed my free palm against the silver Slytherin ring against my pocket. The lock clicked, and he threw it open.

To my surprise, Fred and George Weasley stood in the doorway. My heart nearly stopped in my chest as I saw their shining teeth as the grinned. I stood on my tiptoes, craning my neck to look over their shoulders. Behind the gorgeous, perfectly-imperfect twins, was Fleur Delacour. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, another redhead (probably Ron's older brother), and clearly Hagrid the half-giant were there as well. I recognized Mad-eye Moody when they stepped inside, spreading out a bit. Even Lupin was here. I knew Tonks, who stood next to her husband, and Arthur Weasley had arrived behind them. There was a shorter man behind them who I didn't recognize.

"Fletcher, you're stepping on my foot," one of the twins said, giving the small man a slight push. He scowled at them.

"Why is half of the Wizarding World at your front doorstep?" I asked Harry, still confused, lowering my wand.

Ron's eyes fell on me, befuddled. "What's she doing here?"

In a split second, Ron and Hermione's wands were pointed at my face.

"I come in peace," I raised my arms, surrendering. What exactly had Harry told them about me?