Disclaimer: I. Own. Nothing. Excerpts of this chapter come directly from JK Rowling's Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

XXXVI. Trading Places

She wasn't coming. Gryffindor Tower was much closer to the Astronomy Tower than the dungeons, and yet Draco had been waiting for twenty minutes. He was certain Malachi would find a way to deliver the letter to her, so he couldn't blame the owl. The only logical explanation was that she was ignoring him.

He continued to pace back and forth, his thoughts running wild. He'd give her ten more minutes, he resigned himself, and then he'd go looking for her himself. He was a Prefect; he could use many methods to find her, including other students or threats of detention. Finally, the stamping of hurried feet on the stairs pulled him from his musings. He straightened his tie and ran a hand through his hair to make sure it was straight just as Arabella came into view, breathing heavily.

"Merlin's beard those stairs are unforgiving," she panted, doubled over. "We should do stairs next time we work out."

Draco tried not to grin. Reminding himself he was irritated with her, he schooled his features.

"I'm so sorry," she said, at last catching her breath. "I came as soon as I could get away."

"Get away from whom?" Draco drawled, crossing his arms. "Potter?"

Arabella rolled her eyes at him, "Don't be jealous, Draco. It doesn't become you."

"Yes, well..." he turned away from her so he could run a hand down his face. He'd spent so much time being angry that she hadn't shown up that he hadn't taken the time to figure out how he would have this conversation with her. Luckily, he didn't have to.

"I assume this is about the Evening Prophet?" she said quietly.

Draco whipped around to face her again.

"The Ministry searching the Manor?" she continued.

"So it did get published then," Draco murmured.

She simply nodded.

Draco turned back to lean against the railing and look over the grounds. Arabella came to stand next to him.

"Did they find anything?" she asked quietly.

"No."

"Is everyone okay?"

Draco nodded once.

"So why drag me up here to talk?" she asked.

Draco's expression must have said it all, because when she looked up to regard him she winced.

"They think I tipped him off, don't they?" she asked quietly.

"Mother doesn't," he supplied in a weak attempt to comfort her. Why? He didn't know. He wasn't entirely convinced she was innocent of involvement either.

She turn away from him, walking slowly up the length of the balcony, her arms wrapped around her as the wind blew tendrils of her hair about her face. He turned to watch her, leaning one elbow against the railing of the balcony.

"And what if I did?" she asked, turning to regard him.

He found he could not read her expression.

"Nothing good will come of it," Draco supplied.

"Threats from parents who cannot reach us within the walls of Hogwarts," she replied, emotionless.

"My parents are your legal guardians," he began, stalking forward to meet her where she stood at the other end of the balcony. "They could pull you out of Hogwarts at any moment if it pleased them."

"They wouldn't," she scoffed.

His lip curled in a sneer as he came to stand before her, "Oh, Lucius Malfoy would."

She paled, "Well, they'd have to pull us both out."

It was Draco's turn to appear emotionless. With a shrug, he responded, "Maybe. Maybe not." Betrothed to Arabella or not, he knew they wouldn't remove him from Hogwarts so long as he made progress on his assigned task from the Dark Lord.

"Which means," he continued quietly. "That you would return to Malfoy Manor alone. Without me. To either receive some...private tutelage. Or be enrolled at Durmstrang."

"No."

It came out as a strangled whisper. Draco knew it wasn't separation from him she was worried about. It was separation from Hogwarts; from Potter and Granger and Weasley; from everything she had ever known of the magical world. But he couldn't help feeling as if being without him made it just a little worse, and that gave him hope.

He watched the emotions dance across her face. Pain, worry, fear, frustration, anger...all fleeting and blending one into the other. He put his hand on hers to draw her attention back from whatever she was thinking.

"Now that we are done with 'what ifs,' why don't we return to the matter at hand?"

Her dark eyes met his, the panic falling away as her vision cleared.

"I didn't say anything to anyone," Arabella said quietly.

Draco nodded, "Very well."

She regarded him anew, "Just like that? You believe me? No interrogation?"

"No interrogation," he confirmed.

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, "How do you know I'm not lying?"

He sighed and thought for a moment, then took both her hands in his.

"I don't. I'm choosing to trust you."

He didn't elaborate on his subtle use of Legilimency to divine whether or not she was lying. His lessons with Aunt Bella over the summer had been more than helpful, but Arabella didn't need to know that.

Arabella's posture visibly relaxed, "Will you tell them?"

"Yes," he said. "Father is suspicious, but Mother believes as I do."

"And my father?"

Draco cocked an eyebrow. He really just wanted to see her reaction.

"Surely he knows better! The spell he placed on me to ensure my silence works just fine, as we saw last year. I can't say anything about what happened—what I saw—what I heard—at Malfoy Manor without something bad happening to me!"

"I know, I know. But you know how he is. Everything is a test."

She sighed and turned from him, wresting her hands from his with a little excess force.

"And is this a test? Are you testing me, Malfoy?"

Draco closed his eyes in defeat. Of course she had seen right through it. When he spoke again, he chose his words very carefully, the advice of his mother echoing in his mind.

"I think it was a test for both of us. A test of trust."

She turned only enough to shoot him a scathing look.

He continued quietly, earnestly, "Do you think we passed?"

She scoffed, "Hardly."

"Well, it seems we have some practicing to do, then."

She rolled her eyes and made to leave. On the threshold of the doorway to the stairwell that would take her back to her common room, she halted, rocking back on her heels and bracing herself in the door frame. She paused, sighed, but didn't turn back to him.

"Draco?" her voice was soft, but the desperate emotion seeped through.

He didn't answer, instead holding his breath for whatever she needed to say.

"Promise me…," her voice broke slightly. She took a deep breath and began again, "If they come to take me away from Hogwarts...promise me you won't let them separate us?

He was stunned his threat about being pulled from school had impacted her so, but responded earnestly, "Promise."

She nodded once and was gone.

3 ~*~3~*~ 3

The order had been placed. The delivery arranged. The payment sent. Every detail was set. Of course he'd neglected several homework assignments, missed several meals, spent at least two sleepless nights worrying over it, and earned a detention...but it was done. All that was left was to find a way to be in three places at once: serving detention with McGonagall for missing two assignments; wooing Arabella on their Hogsmeade date; and arranging the goods exchange in the Three Broomsticks.

Brilliant.

"You look like shit," Blaise pulled him from his thoughts.

Draco sneered, "Gee whiz thanks."

Blaise put up his hands in mock defense, "Just calling it like I see it, mate."

Draco rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.

"Don't you have a date with Bella this weekend?" Blaise asked, leaning forward a bit so their conversation couldn't be overheard. "You should seriously get some sleep."

"I think I'm going to have to cancel," Draco replied.

Blaise's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, "Cancel? A date with Bella?"

"It's Arabella. And yes. I can't be in three places at once."

"How is she going to feel about that?" Blaise asked. "You were pissed at her about Valentine's Day last year."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll be delighted," Draco responded with a sneer. "No longer saddled with me she can go off with Saint Potter and do whatever it is Gryffindors do."

He really did sound pathetically bitter.

"So I take it things haven't improved with her," Blaise said.

"No, the weird thing is they have slightly. I mean, you saw her after her Quidditch try outs. She wouldn't have been caught dead doing that last year."

"But—?"

"But aside for some brief—almost intimate—moments, there is no substance to our relationships. We are controlled by our fathers, and she's best friends with Harry bloody Potter."

Blaise gave him a pointed look, "Canceling a date with her is not going to help with that."

Draco groaned, "I know, but I can't be in three places at once."

"Funnily enough, you already mentioned that. Where else do you need to be?"

Draco shifted in his seat and lowered his voice even further.

"Detention with McGonagall. And business for...for Father."

"Uh huh," Blaise looked at him skeptically. "Well, you're not getting out of detention. McGonagall's a stickler. And you'll have to postpone your business, whatever it is."

"So you see why I'll have to cancel the date," Draco reasoned. "But I wonder if there's still a way I could…."

Draco trailed off, thinking. There was a way he could be in two places at once. If someone stood in for detention for him, and he, in turn, disguised himself as someone else.

"Blaise?" Draco said, his voice rising with anticipation.

"Yes?"

"Remember how you offered to help out at the beginning of the year?"

"Yes…."

"Are you still up for that?"

Blaise grinned, "Depends on what's in it for me."

*3 ~3~ 3*

The morning of the October Hogsmeade trip, Draco met Blaise for an early breakfast. Despite the fact that it was Saturday, and they had no plans to study, they each had their book bags with them stuffed to the brim. Draco, unable to stomach the thought of food, contemplated his body-double over his coffee as Blaise tuck into eggs, sausages, and toast.

Shortly thereafter, and before too many others had arrived at breakfast, they made their way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. In complete silence, they each plucked hairs from their own head, adding the dash of personal essence to a flask of Polyjuice. Trading flasks and book bags, they each hid in a stall to make their transformation and change into the other's extra set of robes.

"Your feet smell, mate," Blaise commented over the stall as he pulled on Draco's old pair of dress shoes. "And these pinch a bit."

"Stop complaining and get out here so we can make sure the other looks normal," Draco responded.

"Alright, alright. Don't get your—or rather, my—knickers in a twist."

Draco rolled his eyes as Blaise emerged, a trademark Malfoy smirk plastered on his pale, pointed face.

"Merlin," Blaise exclaimed, his voice just a whisper. "It's like looking in a mirror."

"It better be," Draco said, adjusting Blaise's collar so it was even and neat. "Alright, I better go."

"Good luck," Blaise called after him as he departed, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!

Draco, feeling much taller and lankier than usual, loped down to the checkpoint where Filch was ensuring no unauthorized students were sneaking off into Hogsmeade. He was glad he was one of the first people out the door, as Filch was triple-checking everybody with his Secrecy Sensor. The walk to Hogsmeade was not enjoyable. In addition to the roiling anxiety in his stomach, the lump in his throat, and the aftertaste of essence of Blaise in his mouth, it was freezing. It was incredibly windy nad sleet was falling in sheets that came down at angles impossible to avoid. Draco used Blaise's Slytherin scarf to wrap his face so as little skin as possible was exposed. When at last he arrived, the bitter wind had frozen the tip of his nose and ears. Making straight for the Three Broomsticks, he noted as he passed by that Zonko's Joke Shop was boarded up, no doubt another casualty of the brewing war.

The Three Broomsticks was warm and inviting. Draco began peeling off layers as he approached the bar where he waited for Madam Rosmerta. He leaned against a pillar near the bar; gazing around, he recognized a few groups of fellow Hogwarts students grabbing a drink in from the cold. He was secretly pleased none of them were Slytherins, so he was unlikely to be approached and outed as an imposter-Blaise.

"What can I get you, dear?"

The question brought Draco's attention back. Rosmerta had returned from the back, carrying a crate of firewhisky.

Draco slapped a sly grin on his face, leaning one elbow onto the bar. Giving the most charming impression of Blaise he could, he requested a Butterbeer. As Rosmerta turned back to retrieve his drink, Draco pulled his wand from where it was tucked up his sleeve, silently casting the Imperius Curse on the barmaid's back. He quickly slid the wand back into its hiding place as he felt his magic and influence wash over the woman.

Rosmerta turned back, looking suddenly relaxed and vaguely happy. She set the drink in front of him, "Anything else?"
Draco let his magic flow through him, and although he said, "No thank you," out loud, he was silently giving Rosmerta detailed instructions. She was to return to the back storeroom, where shortly a small package wrapped in brown paper would be delivered. She was to take the package into the bathroom and cast the Imperius Curse on the first Hogwarts student who entered. That student should then be instructed to carry the package up to the school for special delivery to Albus Dumbledore. When he dismissed her, Rosmerta quickly departed to carry out her task, leaving one of her employees to man the bar in her absence. Draco, not wanting to make a hasty exit and draw attention to himself, lolled against the post once more, taking up a casual stance where he could watch the room.

His stomach dropped as the Golden Quartet entered. Potter seemed especially wound up about something. Granger hissed at him, but all he caught was Arabella offering to help Granger grab the drinks as Weasley dragged Pottter towards a table. Draco tried not to tense up as the Gryffindor girls approached. Of anybody aside from a Slytherin, Arabella would be the most likely to pick up on any character defects in Draco's portrayal of Blaise. They had a special relationship of which Draco was extremely jealous—only slightly less so than the jealousy he felt at the relationship between Arabella and Saint Potter himself.

"Hello Blaise," she greeted as they reached the counter of the bar.

"Good morning, Arabella. How are you?" Draco asked, attempting to be his most charming self.

Arabella's eyes narrowed, "Since when do you call me the Father-approved name?"

Draco panicked at his error, "Since Draco told me off for it."

"And since when do you listen to Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged, taking a sip of his drink to give himself time to think, "Just trying to do right by him today, I guess. He's stuck in detention, feeling guilty for breaking his date with you."

"Oh?" she asked, playing it off like she was surprised. But he could see a smile blooming and her cheeks blushing.

"Here, Bella. Our drinks are ready," Granger interrupted, passing her a drink.

"I'll be right there, 'Mione."

Granger gave them a skeptical look before departing.

"What? Did you really think Draco would break a date with you so lightly?" he lowered his voice as Arabella approached him to continue their conversation.

She sighed and shook her head, "No, you're right. He wouldn't. Things have just been so weird between us lately."

"Weird how?" Draco hoped Blaise pressing her for details wouldn't come across as weird. How close were his best mate and his best girl, anyway?

She gave him a puzzled look, "Should I really be talking to you about this when I can't even talk to Draco about it?"

It was not lost on him that she had used his last name when standing next to Granger, but had returned to using his first name when her Gryffindor friends were out of earshot.

"I am his best mate, you know," Draco supplied. That was true at least. And definitely something Blaise would say to Arabella.

"I know. I just wish things were easy between us."

"I wish things were easy between us too, Bells," Draco replied, wiggling his eyebrows as he'd seen Blaise do a dozen times before.

Arabella laughed and touched his forearm lightly, "You know what I meant."

Draco sobered, "I know. And I'm certain Draco wants them to be easy, too. He adores you."

"Perhaps that's part of the problem. Maybe I don't want to be adored."

"Doesn't every girl want to be adored by somebody?" Draco countered.

She paused for a moment, "It just feels weird being adored by someone who serves my father. What does that make me?"

"Adorable?"

She laughed lightly again. Merlin, if only he could make her laugh like that as Draco and not as Blaise.

"Although I agree with you, I'm highly adorable, I just want...to be respected."

"You think he doesn't respect you?"
Arabella looked up at what she perceived as Blaise's face quite seriously, and then picked up her drink, "Have a good rest of your Hogsmeade weekend, Blaise. I'll see you back up at the school."

"Stay warm," he called after her as she left to sit with her friends.

Draco lingered, leaning back against the post near his spot at the bar, trying to eavesdrop on the Gryffindors. He heard something about the Order just before Potter gagged on his Butterbeer. They bent over, whispering, just as Madam Rosmerta came back from the bathroom. Her task must be complete. The Golden Quartet made a hasty exit not too long after, following Katie Bell and one of her friends out the door into the cold. Arabella turned back once as she secured her scarf, giving him a little wave and smile before she was out the door.

Taking another swig of Polyjuice from the flask inside his robes, Draco turned back to his own Butterbeer. He nursed it as slowly as he could make himself, itching to get back to the castle as soon as possible. First, he had to stop at Honeydukes. One of Blaise's conditions of sitting in detention as Draco for him was an unholy amount of sweets from Honeydukes. And while he was out, he might as well pick up something for Arabella. He could say he'd had Blaise pick it up as an apology for breaking their date. Which wouldn't totally be a lie…

* ~ 333 ~ *

"Here's your payment," Draco dropped the bag of sweets at the feet of the real Blaise Zabini. "Thanks for your help."

"Do anything naughty in my stead?"

"Nothing you need to know about," Draco replied with a sneer. "Although, seems you and Arabella get on quite well."

Blaise peered up at him and shrugged, a knowing sparkle in his eye, "So what if we do?"

Draco sighed heavily, and turned away from his friend in exasperation, "Just so you know, you had a heart to heart with her about me."
When Draco turned to regard the other boy, it was to find him digging through his bag of goodies.

"Blaise?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, sod off."

Blaise looked up at last, "That's nothing out of the ordinary, you know. Bella and I having a heart to heart."

Draco glared.

"Oh come off it, mate. Not like that."

Draco just continued to glare.

"I take it these are for her," Blaise said, handing over a box of chocolates that weren't part of a his requested stash.

Draco took them, a little to hastily, from Blaise's hand and turned to leave.

"And just so you know—" Blaise called after him. "McGonagall ended your detention early. There was some sort of emergency with Katie Bell."

Draco paled.

"I expect you'll hear about it from Bella. Hagrid said she and Potter and the rest were there when it happened," Blaise continued slowly.

He suddenly found his mouth had gone dry. Trying to clear it, he said, "Is Arabella okay?"

"I assume so. It sounded like Katie Bell was the only one taken to the Hospital Wing."

Draco nodded once, and thanked Blaise again. And then he fled.

He was panicking as he made his way through the halls. No one was supposed to get hurt. Well, no one but the intended target, of course. Rosmerta was supposed to give clear instructions to the carrier not to open the package for any reason. Something must have happened and Katie must have come in contact with the necklace. Even a small touch could result in a most terrible and painful death. Draco felt tears coming to his eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen. He'd not meant to hurt anyone. Well, not anyone else.

Before he knew it, he'd found himself on the seventh floor, near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, where that secret room was located that Potter had used for Dumbledore's Army meetings. He just needed someplace to hide. To gather his thoughts and figure out what to do next. Maybe he could make that room appear again. Just to hide. That's all he needed. A place to hide.

Suddenly a door appeared in the wall where there hadn't been one before. He opened the door quietly and crept in, closing the door behind him and wishing the room not to allow anyone else in. He hoped that would work.

The room was completely different this time than when he'd poked his head in on one of the DA meetings following Marietta Edgecomb's betrayal. It was as large as a cathedral, whose high windows were sending shafts of light down upon what looked like a city with towering walls, built of what Draco knew must be objects hidden by generations of Hogwarts inhabitants. There were alleyways and roads bordered by teetering piles of broken and damaged furniture, stowed away, perhaps, to hide the evidence of mishandled magic, or else hidden by castle-proud house-elves. There were thousands and thousands of books, no doubt banned or graffitied or stolen. There were winged catapults and Fanged Frisbees, some still with enough life in them to hover halfheartedly over the mountains of other forbidden items; there were chipped bottles of congealed potions, hats, jewels, cloaks; there were what looked like dragon eggshells, corked bottles whose contents still shimmered evilly, several rusting swords, and a heavy, bloodstained axe.

Draco paced around the alleyways between the hidden treasure, taking it all in. Wandering around, he took care not to touch too many of the objects, suddenly hyper aware that anything could be cursed. He regarded himself in a tall, gilded mirror. Blaise was right, he looked like hell. He'd lost some weight, and was sporting some less than attractive dark circles under his eyes. As he turned back to the small walkway between the piles of objects, he nearly tripped on a rolled up rug. As he cursed, he could have sworn one of the tasseled corners gestured rudely at him before the entire carpet heaved a great sigh, dust floating up into the air.

He meandered further into the bowels of the room, turning right past an enormous stuffed troll. Walking just a bit further, he stumbled upon that which he had been seeking for many weeks: the Vanishing Cabinet in which Montague had got lost the previous year. His heart began to pound as he contemplated his next steps. He could now begin repairing it; he'd need to get in touch with Borgin again. The repairs would have to be carried out in this room, which meant he needed lookouts to ensure no one else would enter while he was working. Crabbe and Goyle would do, nicely, given a little Polyjuice. Just as soon as the bubble of hope had been formed, it was popped. One step forward, yes, but two steps back. He'd royally messed up the first attempt on Dumbledore's life. And the amount of time he would need to spend on the Vanishing Cabinet meant less time on school work, Quidditch, and, most regretfully, Arabella.

He just needed to live through this year.

AN: Thanks to everyone who Reviewed/PMed to tell me I accidentally left my notes at the end of the chapter. I'm so so sorry—and so so thankful for the heads up! I was in such a hurry to finally get something posted, I forgot to cut/paste them into the next chapter draft! Thanks for your patience—and your reviews! Xoxo ~CW