~.~.~

A night and half a day later, Draco woke up in a bed.

Not his bed at the Manor, and unfortunately, not in Granger's bed either, wherever that might be located. Instead, he was in Potter's bed at Grimmauld Place, according to Snape who was sitting at his side, nursing him.

"I'm not nursing you, boy, now get up!" his godfather snarled at him, after explaining the entire situation. The man stood up and marched for the door, clearly having had enough of playing bed nanny. "And change out of that ridiculous costume!"

"You mean you don't like the mask?" he asked, pulling it off his forehead where someone had moved it and down over his face again. "I think it makes me look dashing."

Snape gave him a once-over. "You look like a Weird Sisters reject."

"Big fan of them, are you?"

He loved yanking his godfather's chain, especially when it won him that frown.

"Pray tell, what shall I wear, then?" he asked with a mocking smile at the man. "Not my house, remember?"

"You and Potter are about the same size. Borrow something of his."

Draco's grin fell away and he made a face.

"Quit your cringing, boy. You look like a first year attending my class," Snape snapped at him. "And contrary to popular belief, Mister Potter is not infested with vermin."

Ooh, hoo! Now this was too good an opportunity to pass up…

"Gotten close enough to know this personally, have you?"

Snape's frown told him not to go there.

Draco's answering grin told him that someday he would.

Before someone took out an eye, Snape decided to leave. Yet, upon opening the door, his godfather paused. "You should know the Dark Lord has placed you on his top ten list above Miss Granger. You're now under Potter and Moody for 'Most Wanted'."

"Ironic," Draco chortled. He'd expected to be on the list, but not higher than Granger. Wait until he told her! Her competitive streak wouldn't take that well. "Good to know I'm so well-hated by villains."

When Snape didn't immediately reply, Draco's humour dried up.

He guessed then what was coming next.

"Anything else?"

"Lucius and Narcissa." Severus' voice sounded heavy with regret. "They've disowned you. They won't even speak your name."

Honestly, he'd expected as much if it ever came out what he was doing. Still, that didn't mean he was immune to the hurt it caused him to know his parents chose a mad, sadistic tyrant over him. Then again, he'd chosen a feisty Muggle-born witch over them long ago, so perhaps they were even.

"Thank you," he said, then clarified, "for telling me. And for the rescue...and taking the risk on me in the first place."

"You did an admirable job, Draco. Four years is a long time to go without being found out. You've exceeded all my expectations."

"I learned from the best."

After all, he'd been taught Legilimency and Occlumency by Snape starting at the age of fourteen. By seventeen, he'd shown quite the proficiency for both—one that rivaled even his Potions Professor's talents. Those skills had been the only thing standing between him and Death as he'd knelt at Voldemort's feet to take his place within the ranks soon after the war had officially begun, for with them he'd been able to feed the Dark Lord false information about himself, painting a picture of a spoilt heir with only marginally significant magical abilities and too much of a lackadaisical attitude to be of much use to the cause. Thus, he'd been sent to work in the Ministry as one of Pius Thicknesse's administrators...and there he'd kept his eyes and ears open, leaned how to open confidential letters without anyone the wiser, and had even cracked the secret code that Death Eaters alone used to communication with each other. All of that information had been turned over to Snape, who had informed the Order.

"You succeeded on your own merits," his mentor said in a rare moment of praise. He turned and at Draco, his piercing, black gaze penetrating through the mask he was wearing and into the very heart of him. "But the act is now over. They'll all see who you really are."

The idea was even more terrifying to Draco than the pretending had been. Since childhood, he'd always shammed his way through life, a social chameleon who took on the colours his parents and friends had expected him to, and for a few short years there, he'd even believed himself that deceptive and dangerous a creature. Seven years of careful observation and a far-too-short ten-minute snogging session in a cupboard with Granger, though, had changed all of that for good, for it had finally forced him to confront his true feelings. He'd had to admit he was in love with a woman his father and mother had deemed 'filthy' and beneath them, and then come to the determination that he didn't actually feel their way about her at all.

Once that domino had gone down, the entire lot of them followed. He'd realised how ridiculous pure-blood supremacy actually was, and after doing some research on the matter, how it was lacking in both fact and in long-term sustainability. The concept and execution were flawed, and they left no room for a love like what he felt for Granger. By graduation, he'd abandoned the thinking.

Just in time for the war to break out.

When caring for Granger's life, protecting her from Voldemort and his band of crazies became far more important than making his father and mother proud, that had been the pivotal moment he'd grown up. To save her, he'd agreed to continue to wear the same hateful mask he'd always worn, pretending as he always had, but unlike before, he'd done it for love of her.

Four years...it seemed like a lifetime to have played this game. How had Snape done it for so long?

"Incidentally, your saviour, Miss Granger is in the kitchen below," his godfather told him, his black eyes taking him all in with a scathing glance. "You might want shower and comb your hair before tromping down to see her. You look absolutely atrocious."

With that, the man stalked out, robes billowing behind him.

Ripping the mask off his head, Draco spent a while looking at it. He ran his fingers over the shaped leather, observed it as keenly as he had her all those years ago.

Now that his cover had been blown, would Granger be willing to see beyond the mask he'd always worn, into the very heart of him? Would she want to?

Could she accept that all Slytherins were chameleons in their souls, but that his was constant only for her?

~.~.~

Her tea had gone cold.

Sitting for more than an hour, staring at nothing and lost in thought, she hadn't even noticed until she felt the porcelain under her fingers heat up.

Draco put his wand away and took the seat next to her at the long table.

"Keep thinking that hard, and one day your head's going to explode," he told her.

"Hasn't happened so far," she replied. "I'm willing to risk the odds."

His laughter was a good sound, honest and very masculine. It made her chest tight to hear it for some reason. Probably because she'd never expected to hear Draco Malfoy laugh with any sort of sincerity, not in her lifetime. She'd never expected him to tease her either. Or to make her heart race with just a simple look.

...Or to have been working with the Order all these years, to have been a secret undercover spy, like Snape.

He was proving to be quite contrary to her assumptions about his character, and she was having a difficult time reconciling what she remembered when she was twelve to that cupboard in seventh year, and then again how he'd been at the party. Severus had insisted that she didn't really know Draco at all, and even Moody had encouraged her to look deeper.

Had she been judging him wrongly all this time? Had she been staring into his face all these years and seeing only the mask he wore? Was he less two-headed snake, more chameleon?

Only one way to find out.

"Why did you do it?" she asked him, paying close attention to his expressions rather than his reply. "Why did you turn on them? Your parents..."

He met her challenging glare. "More importantly, why do you think I did?"

She frowned, for once unsure if the answer she thought she knew was right or wrong. "Not for the glory, that's for sure."

Slowly, as if he was afraid of spooking her, he reached out and brushed his fingers over the back of her hand. The touch was warm, not at all reptilian.

"No, not for the glory," he admitted. "I'm no Gryffindor."

"Then why?"

He paused, seemed to consider how best to answer. Finally, he settled on a dare. "If you really want to know, you'll have to kiss me again. This time, without the alcohol."

Astonished by such a blunt offer, she turned to him...and stopped as the truth hit her with all the force of a Stupefy.

She stared into his exotic, handsome face with its cutting angles and those haunting pale eyes, and suddenly realised she'd been looking at Draco Malfoy all wrong. Yes, he had an excess of sensual beauty; his was the face of an imperious blueblood denied no desire. And it was that preconceived notion that caused her to see what everyone else saw when they took him in: a pampered lord, bored with the world and simply waiting for his turn. Yet underneath that façade there was strength, determination...and a weird sense of honour that could be born only from a Slytherin's heart.

There was the soul of a pirate and a spy hidden under the face of a beautiful Aristo.

With trembling fingers, she moved to cup his cheeks, forcing him to still as she really took her fill of him, learned him in a way she never had before. She touched him, amazed at the revelation.

"No more masks," she breathed in awe, understanding what he'd been telling her since those ten minutes in that cupboard so long ago. "I see you."

His smile was slow and devastating to her heart.

"About bloody time," he whispered right before he leaned forward and captured her mouth once more.

~.~.~

EPILOGUE

~.~.~

There was something to be said for hiding...especially when the reward was so worth it.

"Found you!" Granger called, opening the door to the cupboard and sliding in next to him.

Shutting the door behind her plunged them into darkness.

A non-verbal spell from him lit up the small space with light.

Before he could put his wand away, she grabbed the wand up, frowning at it. "Is it... Does the light seem to be...dancing?" she asked.

"No," he lied.

It definitely seemed as though his wand was excited to be with her again. The bloody thing had a mind of its own where she was concerned. At times, he wondered just how sentient the thing was, because he could swear it was in love with Granger, too.

"Who cares? The important thing is that you found me." Placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her in nice and tight. "Now what are you going to do with me?"

The look she gave him promised wickedness to follow.

"Well, I was thinking perhaps..." She set his wand on a nearby shelf and pulled something made of leather out of her brassiere. "We might try something a little different this time."

He loved it when she got creative. "Oh? Do tell."

To his surprise, she tossed a leather hat onto his head, and then spent several minutes adjusting it just to her liking.

"There, now you look like a real pirate!"

"You forgot the mask," he said, feeling ridiculous but enjoying how much pleasure it brought his witch to indulge her whims. "Pirates always wear masks to avoid identification from the Crown."

Granger glanced up at him through a soft, sweet gaze. "No more masks for us."

She was right, he thought as he bent to claim her lips in a scorching kiss that left them both panting and wanting more in a short time. Playing chameleon had only kept them from indulging in this. That wasn't to say he still wasn't Slytherin at heart and played things close to the chest, but with her, there would never be any more barriers between them.

"Mmm, right back where we started," he hummed against her throat as he nibbled on the tender skin. "Cupboards seem to be our thing, love."

Granger made a cute kittenish mewl against his mouth. "Merlin, I hope so," she said and guided his hands to the zip on her jeans.

Draco chuckled, taking over from there. In truth, he really appreciated his new wife's insatiable appetites. The woman was as greedy for his attentions as he was for her! It was sexual gluttony on tap.

"Well, well, my pretty pet," he whispered in her ear, slipping his hand under the band of her knickers and making her arch against him in pleasure, "aren't we quite the pair?"

.

~FIN~

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