Play The Game

"Well, well, well," Evan Rosier sneered, tightening his grip on Blaise's shirt as he dragged him down the spiralling staircase. Muck dripped incessantly from a wall, a green shine flickering unctuously in the light from the torches. "Who'd have thought? Locking Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy in the dungeon." He gave a smug burst of laughter that echoed through the interminable dungeons under Malfoy Manor. "The Dark Lord works in mysterious ways." Delighted by his own cleverness, he laughed again, dragging Blaise by the scruff of his neck.

Nott held the lit torch he was carrying higher up in the air, the flickering fire being their only light in the dank Dungeons. He smirked, leading the way further and further under the castle. "I agree wholly, Rosier," he chuckled. "My son, Theodore, has always talked about how they act like they run the school. And Slytherin."

"Does he?" Blaise asked curiously, blinking in the firelight and looking up at Rosier. "And do you mind not holding my neck? I don't particularly want your finger marks in my skin."

"Do you mind if I ignore you?" Rosier barked another laugh. "Only, you're the prisoner here, not me. You'd better learn to act like one." He held Blaise bent over and brought his knee up hard into the boy's chest.

Nott looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Now, now, Rosier, the Dark Lord wants him in one piece." He turned and walked back to them, pulling his wand out of his other pocket and twirling it absently. "Surely curses would work so much better?" he asked with a sinister smirk.

Blaise snarled, his hair falling into his eyes from looking at the ground. His breathing was slightly laboured as he had been winded. He turned his head to glare up at Rosier. "So," he asked conversationally. "How long have you been doing Lucius's dirty work? Surely it must get annoying taking orders from someone who is not even the Dark Lord."

"I'm sure you know how we feel, then," Rosier retorted. "Sit up and beg." He shot a bolt from his wand, bending Blaise's spine until he knelt upright, head tipped back, eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted in pain. Hands shaking violently as he tried to resist it, Blaise's arms curled up in a crude imitation of paws. "Bark like the animal you are," Rosier hissed, clearly enjoying himself.

Blaise slowly shook his head from one side to the other, shaking the whole time. "Do you know what this is?" he demanded, holding his trembling hand up to show the ring fastened around his thumb. "Do you even know why I'm here?"

He laughed, then the curse ripped through him again and he cried out in pain.

"Dilorico Corpus," Nott said lazily, treating Blaise with a cold look. "You would do well to stop talking. You're only digging yourself further into a hole."

A large gash ripped open on Blaise's arm, blood sprouting forth almost immediately. His eyes - his head being unable to move - looked at Nott with less defiance than earlier.

"I don't care if that ring will eventually make you one of the purest forms of evil or whatever Lucius calls it. One small flick" - he demonstrated, causing a cut to appear above Blaise's eye - "and you won't even have a thumb to wear it on."

"Alright, we've done enough," Rosier said, with a curious restraint. "Let him wait for the next time."

He grabbed Blaise again and Apparated into the nearest cell. A wave of his wand caused the manacles on the wall to reach out like greedy, starving claws and snatch at Blaise's wrists, pulling him up against the wall.

"You know, you might fester in here for the rest of your life," Rosier sneered. "No way to learn how to Apparate down here, and that's the only way out. Have a nice stay."

He and Nott then vanished, Rosier's manic laughter echoing long after they were gone.

Blaise kicked out against his manacles, screaming bloody murder at the top of his voice. Finally, he stopped, his dark hair falling in his eyes as he hung his head and looked around from underneath it. "Stupid pissing Lucius. Just because I answered back a couple of times." He reached his arms as far forward as they would go, which was about thirty centimetres. He growled, slamming back against the wall. Finally, he noticed someone in the cell also, who had not, as of yet, said or done anything.

"Hello, Draco," he greeted tiredly, blood from his arm dripping to a pool of blood on the floor, and blood from the gash on his forehead dribbling into his eye.

"Hey," Draco droned, raising on eyebrow to look up at Blaise. He dropped his gaze back to the floor, leaning forwards against his chains.

"No offence, but your father's a prick," Blaise said heatedly, jerking his head back so the hair flicked out of his eyes. "How long have you been here?"

"Don't know," Draco mumbled. "They got me out for a bit so father could torture me, then put me back."

"He tortured you? That must have been when I was dragged out of the room." Blaise frowned. "Is Harry safe?" he asked quietly, eyes lightening slightly.

Blaise's right hand wasn't looking as defeated as the rest of his body, the ring glistening in the light from a faraway torch. Suddenly, it jerked forward without his consent with enough force to tear the skin and rip the chains out of the stone behind him, leaving Blaise with his arm now able to move again. The chain scraped across the floor, attached to the handcuff around his wrist.

"Shit," he said breathlessly, staring at his hand. Slowly, his eyes darkened further than they ever had before and he began rooting in his pocket for the wand Rosier and Nott had neglected to take from him.

Draco looked up, grey, blank eyes becoming vaguely curious again. "What's happening?" he drawled, moving forwards. He had been re-chained so that his arms crossed over his chest, the manacles joining the wall either side of his head. He had been leaning forwards against his arms, but now he sat up to look.

"I don't know," Blaise replied, his hand moving of its own accord, taking his wand out of his pocket and pointing it at the manacle, making it pop open before turning to the other. Blaise was now able to move around the cell.

He stumbled toward Draco, staring at him thoughtfully. "He's coming for you isn't he?" he asked softly.

"Probably," Draco grunted. "He wouldn't listen to me. I told him not to come. Somehow, I have this feeling that it might be the last thing I ever say to him." He looked up at Blaise through his fringe.

"It's always bloody Potter saving the day," Blaise spat, moving closer to Draco and studying him intently. "He always does everything right, knows the best people. It's so unfair!"

Realising he was whining, Blaise's eyes widened slightly. "Sorry, I don't know why I said that."

Draco gave him a neutral look. "I don't know why you said it either, so why are you apologising to me?" He turned his head away, leaning forward against his arms again.

"Because I'm sorry," Blaise replied. "Stupid Potter." His eyes flashed. "Do you *know* how jealous I've been of him? He stole you away. Every time I needed someone to talk to, you were off with Potter. Every fricking time."

He turned his back to Draco, folding his arms over his chest and squinting to see beyond their cell. "I want to make him jealous," he said darkly, suddenly turning back around and looking at Draco, stepping entirely too close.

He reached a hand out, brushing Draco's fringe away from his face. Draco turned to look at him, looking slightly confused. Blaise smirked, trailing a finger down Draco's cheek to his chin. "You were mine first."

Suddenly, his hand gripped Draco's chin, holding his head in place as he leaned forward and slanted his lips over Draco's.

Draco did not bother to resist. 'Why the hell not?' he thought. 'Blaise has a point'. Then the reality of the situation hit him and he cried out, slamming his head back against the wall, feet scrabbling for purchase on the smooth stones as he struggled to force himself as far away as possible. Draco drew his knees up to his chest and held his arms tightly over them, gazing at Blaise in open-mouthed horror.

"What the fuck are you playing at?" he demanded, wiping his mouth fiercely on the back of his hand.

Blaise smiled sadly, turning away from Draco, not noticing as his wand dropped onto the floor near Draco's feet. "You were my friend first. I want to hurt Potter for taking you away from me. It's his fault I got this ring. It's his fault I'm in these dungeons. It's ALL HIS FAULT!"

He whirled around, balling his hand into a fist and punching the wall next to Draco's head. As several cracks were heard he stumbled backwards, tripping over the chain to land on his back on the floor. "Oh god, what am I doing?!" he asked himself in a dangerous whisper. He pushed himself up, suddenly afraid to look Draco in the eyes. "Get it off me Draco! GET IT OFF! I DON'T WANT IT!" He began clawing madly at his right hand where the ring was.

Draco held out his hand to Blaise. "I was always there, now I'm not. I never will be again if he dies... if he dies because of me. Give me your hand."

Blaise whimpered, crawling forward slowly and holding his hand out to Draco, fresh cuts creating a criss-cross pattern over it.

The cuts on his forehead and arm had dried, and now his hair was plastered to the blood on his forehead, his shirt plastered to the blood on his arm.

Draco gripped Blaise's palm, clammy and crusty with blood. He wiped the ring clean and twisted it free of Blaise's thumb. He dug his thumbnail cruelly into a cut on the boy's palm, pulling him forwards until their faces were inches apart.

"I want you to know that if you do a single thing to hurt Potter or to break us apart, I will kill you," he told him in a deathly whisper. "I... Hey!" The ring slipped free of his grasp and slammed back onto Blaise's thumb, ripping chunks out of his skin all the way down. "Fucking hell," Draco spat, letting go of him. "What the hell is this demonic piece of shit?"

Blaise's eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "I don't know. It's some sort of cursed object; it works at making the wearer darker. It can never be destroyed, only by the person who put it on. Slowly, it sucks all the good out of you, making you as dark as is humanly possible. I've... heard stories. If you think Voldemort is bad, that's nothing compared to what this ring will turn you into."

He cradled his hand to his chest, the cuts staining his shirt red, bits of flesh sticking to it. "I'm sorry, when it decides it wants to do something it manipulates you to actually go through with it."

"And you don't think I'm worth kissing?" Draco asked, a wry smile lifting his lips. "We'll get it off you."

Blaise couldn't meet his eyes.

***

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor, Mr. Potter. I do hope your stay is enjoyable." Lucius' oily smile did not reach his eyes as he stepped aside to allow Harry through the fireplace.

Harry rubbed soot from his glasses using a long sleeve before glaring at Lucius. "I sincerely doubt it," he murmured, glancing around once to take in the decor and wealth before focusing entirely on Lucius. "Alright, so I'm here. What now?" He kept his hand firmly clasped around his wand at his side.

"Well, would you like a guided tour?" Lucius offered, the very soul of courtesy. His eyes, so similar to Draco's but with none of the trusting warmth, never moved from Harry's face, and their stillness was almost unnerving.

"Not particularly, I'd rather get Draco and go," Harry replied with a smile showing no happiness.

"You can visit him, if you'd like," Lucius told him. "I'm told that lovers enjoy tearful last conversations."

"You're just loving this, aren't you?" he asked angrily, fingers clenching and unclenching in his free hand.

"Yes," Lucius answered unabashedly. "You enjoy my son, why shouldn't I enjoy you?" He laughed, firelight casting shadows upward and hollowing his eyes. "Last chance - do you want to see him?"

Harry's eyes hardened. "Of course." Inside, he was running over how much time he had until Dumbledore returned with the Order to realise that he was no longer there in his office.

"Right," Lucius said. He took hold of Harry's upper arm and Disapparated. As the scene blurred back into focus, they were standing in the dungeons.

Blaise looked up from his place on the floor in front of Draco as he heard the tell tale crack of someone Apparating into the dungeon. He scurried to the bars, peeking through and straining his eyes almost to the limit. "It's Lucius," he told Draco, looking over his shoulder. "And he's got Harry with him."

"Harry," Draco croaked, jerking forwards, as close as he could to the bars. "Get your wrists back in those chains," he muttered to Blaise. "Lucius'll take you with him and leave us for a while."

Blaise nodded mutely, bending to pick his wand up from near Draco and scrambling back to his chains, re-fixing them all with magic.

There was silence for a while before the sound of footsteps as Harry and Lucius moved into hearing and seeing distance.

"Here he is," Lucius told Harry, pointing. "Blaise," he called, raising his wand to release the manacles. Taking Harry's wrist again, Lucius Apparated into the cell and grabbed Blaise by the hair. "Give me a shout when you're done," he told Harry, and he and Blaise disappeared.

Harry immediately rushed over to Draco, running his hands across the chains that we holding him to the wall. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"You're a thick bastard," Draco snapped, eyes flashing. "I told you to stay away."

"I wanted to tell you to stay away," Harry admitted, stepping back to put his hands into his pockets. "I realised when I reached Dumbledore's office that it had already happened, Blaise had already betrayed us."

"Yeah," Draco said flatly. He tugged fruitlessly on his chains, trying to hold his arms out to Harry. "Hug me," he said in a slightly pleading tone. "I'm cold."

Harry stepped forward, taking his hands out of his pockets to wrap them around Draco. "You are cold," he murmured absently, studying the chains holding Draco in place with thoughtful emerald green eyes. "Are these closed by magic?"

"Yes," Draco replied, leaning his head against Harry's shoulder. "I hate it here."

"So do I," Harry said quietly, closing his eyes. "Is there anyway I can get these opened?" he asked Draco, knowing that if magic wouldn't work he would probably try and wrench them from the stone.

"I don't know the spell," Draco told him. "It wouldn't do you any good anyway. I can't get out of here, because I can't Apparate."

"I know you can't get away," Harry replied, resting his chin on Draco's shoulder. "I just want you able to move, I hate being able to hug you and you not being able to do anything."

"Try something, just blow the stones apart around them. The chains won't break, but the stone will," Draco said, pulling away from the wall. "Something bad's going to happen. Something really bad. I might not ever see you again..." He paused to take a breath and compose himself. As he continued, his voice was thick. "This might be the last time I ever talk to you, if something happens to you or me or both. If I'm still alive and you're gone, I'll kill myself... If you go then I've lost everything. They've taken everything from me..." His voice shook and trailed off. Draco buried his face in his arms so that Harry couldn't see that he was crying.

Harry jerked back, suddenly becoming more focused than he ever had been before in his life. He aimed his wand at the stone around the chains, muttering various incantations till finally, the stones gave way and fell to the floor. He repeated this process on the other arm then drew Draco into his arms, burying his head into Draco's hair. "I promise, I won't die on you, Draco. I'll find a way to stay alive, to find my way back to you, I won't give up trying. Voldemort can do whatever the hell he wants to me, but I won't give up. I'll find you, I promise."

Draco shut his eyes tighter, until red, purple and green stars exploded across his vision. He gritted his teeth fiercely, trying to save this moment. The rich, musky smell of Harry's skin, the vague Parma violets scent of his clothes, the soapy smell of his hair, the rich tang of blood and metal, the cordite of broken rock.

"No matter what happens to me or to you, I'll love you always," he swore. "No matter what."

"I love you," Harry said sincerely, leaning his forehead against Draco's until he could only see his eyes. "I snapped at Dumbledore before," he said absently. "He told me that I should leave you here, he didn't understand how much you mean to me. At least, I don't think he did until I demanded him to tell me if he wanted me to sit and wait while they could be doing anything to my boyfriend. He seemed a bit put out and left for the Order."

Harry stepped back and took his Quidditch jumper off, pulling it over Draco's head before he had chance to protest. "Keep this, to remind you I'll be back to get it. And to keep warm of course," he added with a slight smile.

Draco knotted his hands in the long sleeves, smiling gratefully. "You go and play the hero. I'll come as soon as I can."

Harry shook his head, taking Draco into his arms again. "I want to stay here with you, sod Voldemort. He can have a tea party with Lucius for all I care."

"My father prefers coffee," Draco mumbled. "Voldemort prefers arsenic." He buried his face in Harry's chest. "You have to promise that you won't forget me, even if I get put in Azkaban or something after this, you have to promise that you'll come and see me, even if I have really long hair and stubble."

Harry closed his eyes, playing with the fabric of his Quidditch jumper nervously. "I promise," he said quietly, holding the blond boy tighter to him.

There was a muted cracking noise. "Time out," Lucius said, tapping his watch.

Harry shook his head, still holding onto Draco defiantly. "No. You can wait Malfoy, I'm not finished here. Take me away from here now and I swear I will kill you."

"That might be a thing for us to consider," Lucius said. "Hurry up and finish."

Draco completely ignored his father, sliding his hands up around Harry's neck and knotting them in his hair. He pulled Harry's lips down to his own and kissed him lingeringly. Somehow it was sweeter, the purest thing he had ever, ever done. Something rushed inside him; things that he could never understand all became clear. A light covered over all the grey that had masked every action Draco had ever taken, suddenly making everything right. He clung fiercely to Harry.

Harry's eyes fluttered closed, drowning out everything around them as his hands relaxed slightly but kept firm hold of Draco. He became acutely aware that he did not want to let him go, he wanted to stay here forever, with Draco, where nothing else mattered.

When Harry finally pulled back, sadness filled his jade eyes, that had always been the window to his soul, showing every emotion he had ever felt. His eyes were showing so much emotion at this one moment that it was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking. He rested his forehead on Draco's and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he apologised before slipping his arms out from around Draco's waist and turning to Lucius.

"It's really rather odd to watch your son kiss your sworn enemy," Lucius mused. "Oh well, no matter." He clapped a hand on Draco's shoulder. "You'll be safe here," he told him. "If the wards break, which they will soon, don't come up. I don't want you to get hurt." He embraced Draco briefly before turning to Harry and grabbing his sleeve and Disapparating.

Harry's eyes were closed as they reappeared in the main hall, and he was breathing quietly through his nose. "Why did you need me here?" he asked Lucius.

"Because you've got to fight The Dark Lord," Lucius said simply, releasing Harry and walking away from him to where Blaise stood.

Blaise mock saluted him with a grin, it was obvious he was back under the power of the ring. "You took longer than I would have thought, Lucius. Have any problems down there?"

"Not really, just sentimentality," Lucius shrugged. "Shall we not discuss it?"

"Oh, but you have me interested now, Lucius," Blaise said, joining them both and stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Perhaps Draco was confessing his undying love for Potter? No, wait they were promising--"

"Shut up, Zabini," Harry cut across him, opening his eyes to glare daggers at the dark haired boy.

"Yes, do shut up," Lucius said, frowning at Blaise. He looked about him. The ground floor of the Malfoy Manor was totally cleared of furniture. All the enormous double doors were thrown wide to allow people to move easily through them. It looked almost as though they were preparing for a ball or something. 'Ironic,' Lucius thought, a smile curling his lip.

Blaise shrugged. "Where am I to go?" he asked. "I'm not exactly going to wear a Death Eater mask when Dumbledore's Order is on the way."

"Just poke around. I'm sure you'll find something," Lucius snapped irritably. What he was planning now took a lot out of him. "Go and see if he's arrived," he instructed.

Blaise nodded, sloping off to go and see if Voldemort had arrived yet. Since the Dementors and Deatheaters had escaped from Azkaban, Voldemort had been visiting several unknown locations on the planet gathering what seemed to be an army.

"Harry," Lucius said, when he was sure that no one stood near them. He dropped his voice to an urgent mutter. "This isn't the way I wanted to be. It seems almost ridiculous to be saying that now, but sometimes when you get into things you can't get out. I don't want that to happen to Draco. I think that if he has you, he'll stay on the right side of that fine line, he won't get sucked in." Lucius took a deep breath. "Everyone's time comes someday." He reached down the neck of his robes, pulling out a heavy silver amulet with a snake carved onto it. "Take this. It will protect you from almost all curses directed at you. Knowing the power you're reputed to have, you'll be practically invincible with it. I'll be killed for betraying the Dark Lord, so give this to Draco when you win. The key's under the seat in my study. Just pull the stuffing out and you'll find it." He dropped the amulet into Harry's left hand and gripped his right. "Good luck, Harry Potter," he said, before sweeping off across the room.

Harry stared at the amulet in his hands with barely suppressed surprise. The amulet was a beautiful piece of jewelry, probably priceless, and still warm from Lucius' body heat. Harry carefully put it around his neck where it rested comfortably on his chest, feeling like a little ray of hope for what was to come.

He stood in the hallway with nothing but his wand and his wits to get him through this day.

***

"Good heaven's above, Albus, are you mad?" Fudge asked incredulously. "You're going to go off some dream the boy had and intend to storm Malfoy Manor? Merlin's beard, Albus, that's madness. I can't let you go in on such flimsy evidence. Heavens, the boy could have just been having your standard nightmare!"

"He's vanished, as has Draco Malfoy. I have detected that Lucius - or someone at the Manor - had a link to my fireplace through the floo network. That will be how Harry got there. I do intend to storm Malfoy Manor, yes," Albus said, looking calmly at the short, fat man blustering away before him.

"But Lucius is a well respected wizard from the very soul of our Wizarding community, to go pinning all the blame on him is ludicrous!" Fudge exclaimed, balling his hands into fists and banging them on the desk, as a toddler would at dinnertime. "I'm afraid that you cannot have any Aurors, and if you try and storm Malfoy Manor I will arrest you."

"Have you simply forgotten Lucius' spell in Azkaban?" Dumbledore grated. "I assure you, this is not some simple guess. If it is incorrect, we'll apologise, turn around and leave. I'm taking the Order, regardless of what you decide, Cornelius."

"Lucius has seen the error of his ways, I assure you," Fudge said weakly, not sounding at all convinced by what he was saying. "Is you-know-who there?" he asked meekly. "Wouldn't it be safer to have the Aurors surround the place rather than storm in?"

"He will be, if Harry is," Dumbledore predicted. "What will we achieve by ensuring that no one leaves? Voldemort can kill Harry just as easily inside the building."

"Merlin's beard Albus, you allowed Potter to run blindly into this trap?" Fudge asked, looking shocked and strangely confused. "I thought you were meant to be keeping him safe, Albus. What is the boy playing at?"

"What he's meant to play at, Cornelius," Albus explained patiently. "One will kill the other, soon. Why should I keep him safe from what he's meant to be doing?"

"Don't ask me such questions, Albus. I can't answer them. I'm trying to look after the best interests of the people in the Wizarding World, and I know that not many will be happy knowing you have allowed Harry to rush into something," Fudge replied, leaning back on his chair and putting his feet up on the desk.

Dumbledore looked distastefully at the small, pointed boots on the probably priceless rosewood table.

"What the public believe is of no moment just now," he said coolly. "If they're dead, they won't believe anything much."

"Look, you can go Albus, but I'm not endangering the lives of the Wizarding people from this country," Fudge said, scratching his nose. "If word gets out, I had nothing to do with this."

"You have nothing to do with this already," Dumbledore reminded him. "All you're doing is sitting around and poking obstacles in my face. Trust me, I would not dare to incriminate you, but I will never credit you if it goes well. Good day, Cornelius," he said, rising to his feet and leaving, shutting the door behind him

Tonks looked up and grinned as Dumbledore exited the Minister of Magic's office, falling into step with him as they began walking out of the building. "Everything go not his way?" she asked, unable to hide to hope.

Dumbledore gave a mysterious smile. "Cornelius is one of those people that expect everything to go their way. People like that are often disappointed. I'm sure he'll survive."

Tonks laughed, her hair (which was blonde and to her shoulders at the moment) bounced with her steps. "Where are we going?"

"If everyone's ready, we're off to Malfoy Manor," Dumbledore told her, looking about him.

Tonks smile faded a bit. "This'll be the first time we won't have Kingsley with us," she said quietly, stepping aside to allow a Ministry Official to get past.

"Yes," Dumbledore said sadly. "I'm sure he'll be sorely missed."

"I'll make sure to capture a few of the nasty little buggers that were there," Tonks vowed, her smile disappearing for a look of defiance.

"I'm sure they'll all be present," Dumbledore said, his voice also steely.

"Good," Tonks nodded. "Are we to storm the Manor and catch them off-guard?" she asked as they stepped into the main hall where the rest of the Order was waiting.

"I doubt we'll manage that, but it's worth a try," Moody told her, stumping across the room to them. "Does anyone know the Manor? Ah yes, Severus." He looked across at Snape with a certain amount of distaste.

Snape stared back with an equal look of dislike. "I will be taking you all to the Manor, when Dumbledore decides it is time."

Tonks left Dumbledore's side to talk to Remus who was stood by himself near the doors.

Dumbledore checked his planet-encrusted watch. "I think," he announced, his voice echoing and everyone stopping to listen, "that it is time for us to depart."