A/N: It's here, it's here, it's really really here! I present to you the final chapter of Blood and Water. I apologise for ending it here, but it seemed like a natural stopping point. Some day I may be persuaded to write a sequel, but for now I have far too many fics going, and I need to finish this one up. Also, aside from finishing up this story and Olympia, all my fics will only be posted at my website (http://salazar.patchfire.org) and at FictionAlley (http://www.fictionalley.org). That's not to say that one might not be archived somewhere else, but they will not be posted here on ff.net.

Disclaimer: Everything Harry belongs to Joanne. I'd love to have Harry & Draco, but alas I can only borrow them for a while.



Draco Malfoy? Severus repeated, incredulous. I seriously doubt that, Harry.

It's the same handwriting, Harry insisted. I realise it sounds incredible, but it's the same handwriting.

Severus shook his head firmly. While I believe that you think it to be the same handwriting, I cannot believe that Mr. Malfoy would attempt to help any fellow student, much less you. His lip curled upwards in a sneer. It has been a pleasure to give that little brat the type of treatment he has always deserved this year.

Harry bit his lip but didn't say a word. No matter what his father said, he was certain that he was right. It made sense in light of everything else. Malfoy wasn't one to pass up the chance to taunt Harry in any way possible, and recent events had surely been enough if anything ever was. He merely shrugged and handed the essay back to his father. Well, perhaps someone charmed their handwriting. Though there really aren't all that many people who could do that, either.

Severus accepted the parchment without a word, but nodded his assent. There was silence for a long period in the office. I'd better get on to class, then, Harry said finally, but he had resolved to corner Malfoy sometime in the near future.

Of course. Do you have your cloak? You need to be careful.

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled. Yes, I have it. I'll see you later, then.

Harry swept the invisibility cloak around him and hurried to Transfiguration, his mind spinning. Obviously Father doesn't think much about Malfoy. I'll have to be sure and not let on that I'm going to talk to him about this.

Harry dropped into his seat and smiled briefly at Ron and Hermione, who looked as if they were about to interrogate him. Luckily, Professor McGonagall called the class to order then, and Harry was able to shrug off most of their questions when class ended. Transfiguration was their last class of the day, and he paused in the hallway. I'm going to take a walk. Yes, with the invisibility cloak, Hermione, he added to forestall her burgeoning protests.

His two best friends just shook their heads as Harry disappeared. After about ten minutes, he headed up to Gryffindor Tower, exchanging his schoolbag for the Marauders' Map, which he had accidentally left on his bedside table that morning. He trooped back out of the tower without anyone noticing, and he paused a corridor away to activate the map. I solemnly swear I am up to no good.

He scanned the map, first checking the Slytherin common rooms, before turning his attention to the rest of the school. Finally he spotted the dot labeled Draco Malfoy' - thankfully alone - in an out of the way corner of the library. He cleared the map and strode quickly towards the library. He reached the dark corner some ten minutes later, and he quietly removed his invisibility cloak and put up a cloaking charm before speaking.

Draco's head snapped up, and his eyes narrowed. What are you doing here? he asked coolly.

I wanted to talk to you, Harry replied, just as coolly. Despite what everyone else may think, I'm about 99% sure you wrote that letter.

Draco worked his jaw, staring at the other boy in silence for a long time before closing the book in front of him, and straightening slightly. And if I did?

Harry shrugged, and dropped into a chair across from the blonde. It's interesting, then, don't you think? That you, Draco Malfoy, would offer anything but barbs to me? Personally, and here he smiled slightly, I wonder if, perhaps, my situation is, dare I say it, a little too close for comfort for you?

Draco pursed his lips, remaining silent, and then finally nodded slowly. You might be correct.

Which still begs the question of why you actually tried to help me.

I suppose it does. He shrugged slightly. You should have been a Slytherin.

So said the Hat, Harry admitted dryly.

Draco looked up, slightly surprised, then smirked. God, I bet you hated that.

Harry had to chuckle at himself. You could say that. He shrugged. Now, of course, it makes more sense.

The other boy flicked his eyes over Harry. It suits you better, he said simply, and was suprised when Harry grimaced.

That's what he said, too, Harry said bitterly.

Draco asked sharply.

Harry just nodded, not all that surprised that Draco knew the name. He bit his lip and looked around. So was the comment on my House the only answer I'm going to get?

Draco smirked. Very, very good. He chuckled once. I'm not quite as much of a bastard as everyone - including your father - thinks, you know. He shrugged. I'm not a fool. I know myself well, and I know what I need to be content. I know what I'm going to have to do in a matter of years, or maybe even months, in order not to get an unwanted tattoo. He made a face. You... you're interesting. Let's leave it at that for now. With that, he stood, and left the library, leaving Harry at the table alone, his brow furrowed in thought.



The next days passed in a blur of interviews, interrogations, and updates, in which Harry was kept informed but out of the limelight. Most of the school was buzzing about why some students were being pulled from classes and returning much later, eyes downcast, points removed in copious quantities from their House.

It was only after the last of the culprits had been identified, interrogated, and punished that the facts of the matter were made public. Harry had talked to his father for a long time one evening, debating how much should be said, especially whether or not Justin's identity should be revealed. They had not agreed on a course of action when Harry felt his father's chambers just before curfew. He scanned the Marauders' Map with a practiced eye, noting the only person even remotely nearby was Draco Malfoy. Nearly two weeks had passed since they last spoke, and Harry made a split-second decision to alter his course in order to talk to the other boy.

Draco was sitting in a shadowy alcove, writing furiously on a piece of parchment, mumbling about Transfiguration. I haven't finished my essay yet, either, Harry said in a neutral tone, causing Draco to jump.

Bloody hell, Po- Sna- oh, fine! Harry! Are you trying to scare me?

Wasn't my intention, no. Harry grinned. Nice bonus, though. Harry sat down cautiously across from Draco. He pursed his lips. They're going to tell the rest of the school tomorrow, about the attacks, and who's been punished. Would you tell it was Finch-Fletchley, if it were you?

Draco looked up, surprised. Are you asking me for advice?

Harry chuckled. I suppose I am. Your opinion, at the very least.

I think I would tell, Draco said slowly, although it almost admits to your evidently abysmally poor taste in men.

Harry rolled his eyes. I should have known you would have to throw an insult in there somewhere. Let me see, what was wrong with him - aside from the obvious difficulties at the end, I mean. Is it that he's a Hufflepuff? Muggle-born?

Draco shook his head. Of course not. The main problem with Finch-Fletchley is his looks. I thought you didn't need glasses anymore!

Harry had to laugh. All right, I admit his hair's a little odd.

A little? It's horrid. Worse than yours used to be. And that face. Draco wrinkled his nose. Not that there aren't the obvious problems of House and parentage you pointed out, of course.

Of course. Harry stood. I'd best get back to the Tower before they send out a search party. He paused. You'd tell, though?

Draco nodded tightly. I would. It's only fair.

We just had a civil conversation, Harry noted with some irony.

See? All you had to do was become a Snape! Draco responded triumphantly. Just imagine if you had let the Sorting Hat do its job properly.

Harry rolled his eyes. Good night, Malfoy.

It's Draco, the other boy said quietly. Good night, Harry Snape.

Harry walked off, bemused by the recent turn of events, and then hastily wrapped himself in the invisibility cloak, hidden from sight. He waited, just a moment, to see if Draco would talk to himself again.

I could, came the soft murmur, accomplish more than one things at a time. If he said yes, it would send a clear message to my father. I don't think he'd even want me to take the Mark after that. I'd get to have some fun and a handsome date, not to mention the name recognition. Draco stood, and Harry held his breath. Yes, I think it would be most advantageous.

Harry stood for awhile, bewildered, though he was sure Draco was considering asking someone out. After a moment, he put the pieces together. Me?!?



The next day, at lunch, the Headmaster stood and somberly informed the school of the actions of a few of its students, speaking for a time about tolerance and the need for acceptance of others' differences, not hatred. Then Harry watched as his father stood and spoke about the specific events of the last month or so, how Mr. Finch-Fletchley decided to make himself some Galleons, and how the culprits had at last been uncovered. The Hall was understandably silent, most of its occupants only vaguely aware of the events that had unfolded, and very few having any prior knowledge of the attacks or Harry's injuries. It was announced that in addition to the points removed for the perpetrators, there were several individuals who had assisted Harry and the investigation, and they and their Houses would be appropriately rewarded. Harry frowned slightly, knowing that Draco wouldn't get the recognition he deserved for his part. It couldn't be helped - his father refused to acknowledge that the blonde Slytherin could have written the letter or been anything but a perfect carbon copy of his father. Harry sighed.



The next day, Harry was leaving Care of Magical Creatures, his last class of the day, when he felt a hand on his arm. He turned and saw Draco, who looked a tiny bit nervous. Can I talk to you for a moment? he said quietly.

Ron scowled, while Hermione looked at Draco curiously, but Harry merely nodded, his face impassive. Sure. Go on, Ron, Hermione. I'll catch you up.

Harry, are you sure?

Yes, Hermione, I'll be fine. Harry smiled reassuringly, then turned back to Draco. I think she's trying to fill in as my mother sometimes.

Draco bit back a laugh. I think you're right. he sobered, and bit his lip before speaking. This Saturday is a Hogsmeade weekend. If you aren't busy, or don't have plans, would you, ah, like to go with me?

Harry blinked. He moves quickly once he makes a decision, doesn't he? He decided to clarify things. Are you asking me on a date?

Draco looked around a bit nervously, all too aware of the other Slytherins watching and eavesdropping.

Harry smiled. Sure, why not? He paused. When and where should I meet you?

Right inside the entrance as fine, say, ten minutes before ten?

Sounds great. Harry looked at him carefully. So this definitely isn't a secret?

Draco laughed. No, definitely not.


Harry grinned. See you then, Draco.

See you, Harry, Draco echoed.

Harry walked briskly back up to the castle, laughing inwardly. He had decided, after overhearing Draco's conversation, to give the other boy a chance. Perhaps he had always been judged solely by his last name, and everything was interpreted in light of that. Harry had certainly experience enough of that himself. He decided to go visit his father before dinner, and turned to the dungeons.

Severus said with some surprise when Harry walked in. To what do I owe this honor?

Harry grinned. You said we shouldn't keep big secrets from each other anymore, so I wanted to tell you before the grapevine did - I have a date on Saturday.

Severus raised one eyebrow. I hope it's not another Hufflepuff, Harry.

No, it's not, Harry reassured him with a chuckle. Actually, it's a Slytherin.

Severus frowned, trying to think who among his Slytherins it might could be.

Harry sobered. You won't like it, he admitted. It's Malfoy.

Malfoy?!? Harry Snape, are you out of your mind? His father's a Death Eater! He's a brat and probably knows more Dark Arts than any other student at this school!

Harry pursed his lips. Yes, I know his father's a Death Eater. That doesn't mean Draco is. He paused, gathering his thoughts. Bloodline isn't everything. But, I have to admit, perhaps blood does determine more than we might like to think. Snapes, for instance, have a flair for the dramatic. He grinned. I've never really been Harry Potter, when you look at that way. I was never the shining Harry Potter the masses wanted, and I knew it. I was really a Snape. Harry shrugged. I know that he's using me, at least partially, to get out of becoming a Death Eater himself. But this Harry, the one that's a Snape, understands that, and doesn't care. He smiled. I have realised one thing in the past few months. I'm a lot like you, Dad.

Severus stared at his son for a long moment, then nodded once, conceding. So you are, my son. So you are.