Chapter Six of 'Valerian'- Awakening

[lomonaaeren]

Chapter Five.

Chapter One.

Title: Valerian (6/?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Severus and Draco/Astoria, past Harry/Draco
Content Notes: Angst, manipulation, past infidelity
Rating: R
Summary: Harry dated Draco until Draco fell in love with Astoria, and never really got over his broken heart. Now Draco is getting married, and wants Harry to construct a unique magical gift for his bride on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. As Harry labors on his creation, telling himself not to be petty, Severus Snape watches to make sure that he doesn’t mess it up—and also, soon, for other reasons.
Author’s Notes: Several people are angsty and not at their nicest here. Don’t read if that bothers you. Also, this is a sequel to my short fic “Aconite,” which you should probably read first, and while this will be much longer than that story, it will be irregularly updated.

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Six—Awakening

Harry opened his eyes to pain in his stomach, pain in his head, and the most delicious smell. His stomach rumbled loudly. Harry grimaced. Probably both kinds of pain came down to the fact that he hadn’t eaten in what felt like eons.

“Wake up, Harry.”

His attention could still fly around quickly even when his body felt weak. Harry rolled over at once and found himself staring at Snape, who stood in the doorway of the bedroom with his eyes narrowed and his face blank. Harry felt his own face heat up. He’d been lying in Snape’s bed. He’d kicked him out of his own room.

“Sorry for that stunt with your gift,” Harry muttered, sitting up and running his hand through his hair. The shadows of late afternoon tilted through the window, which upset his stomach more than his hunger. He’d wasted an entire day sleeping when he could have been working! There were vital measurements for the maze that he could only take in the daylight.

“Wipe that expression off your face. At the moment, you need to consider little other than threats to your life important.”

“What are you talking about? Did someone show up to threaten me?” Harry climbed slowly out of the bed, watching Snape as he did. The man’s face stayed in that blankness that was almost pleasant compared to his usual mood. “I didn’t think anybody except you knew where I was.”

“No. I mean that you were dying when I fed you that potion.”

Harry froze in an awkward position that made him teeter and almost sent him to the floor. “I was not,” he hissed.

“Yes, you were. I know the signs, Harry.” Snape gave no sign that saying Harry’s first name was foreign to him, which unnerved Harry more than anything else. “Usually, people taking that particular sleeping potion snore. You did not. That means deadly exhaustion. You would have died if I hadn’t forced you to rest.”

Harry gave a slow, tortured breath. He didn’t want to believe it, but on the other hand, that would be a weird thing for Snape to lie about. He glanced at Snape, whose face remained perfectly placid, and rubbed the side of his face.

“Then I suppose that I owe you another life-debt.”

“I will consider it repaid if you take a meal with me, refer to me as Severus, and tell me certain things I have been curious about.”

Harry hesitated. He remembered the last lunch they’d had and how much of a disaster it had been. But then again, they weren’t in public this time, and Snape still seemed calm, not snapping. That was probably about the best he was going to get.

“All right, Severus. I’ll tell you anything that’s not someone else’s secret.”

“I assume that anything about your relationship with Draco falls into the realm of Draco’s secrets, then? Or so you would think?”

Harry bared his teeth. “I would think that, yeah.”

Snape shrugged a little and turned away. “Come and have dinner with me,” he said over his shoulder, which made Harry cast another resentful glance at the shadows coming in through the windows. How could he have slept so bloody late? It just didn’t make sense, no matter how exhausted he had been.

Maybe Snape had drugged the potion with a stronger sedative than normal—

But then Harry remembered the way he’d worked on the potions storage stand last night until his cold water was lukewarm, and sighed. No, it was possible. He would still dispute the idea that he had come close to dying because of mere magical exhaustion, but yes, he might have fatigued himself to dangerous limits.

And if that was true…

Then he owed Snape a life-debt, and just about everything in his head that didn’t belong to Draco.

*

Severus watched Harry as he took a seat on the other side of the table, moving carefully, like a man who had ice beneath his feet. Severus wasn’t sure if that came from continued tiredness or justifiable caution around someone who had tried to read his mind the last time they ate together.

It bothered Severus not to know.

He sat down across from Harry and pushed the Galleons he had saved for him yesterday across the table. Harry arched an eyebrow. “Paying me for my company now, Severus?”

“I paid for your lunch yesterday. You can take your money back. I know how much you need it.”

That brought a tide of blood funneling up Harry’s face, and he leaned forwards across the table a little. The air around him became charged with a sharp, lightning-like feel. Severus didn’t lick his lips because he had more dignity than that, but he wondered—if his magic was like this right after Harry had nearly died, what had it been like when he was with Draco, at full power, and not trying to hide so much of himself?

How could Draco ever have given it up?

“I don’t need charity from you.”

“You think a bit of money is anything next to the potion that saved your life? You’ve already taken charity from me. I think you should just accept it.”

Harry abruptly sat back in his chair, eyes narrowing. The fires that had for a moment blazed on his face sank back, low-burning but not dimmed. Harry reached out and picked up his fork without looking away from Severus.

“You want something,” Harry said. “I know that much. What I don’t understand is how reminding me what I owe you connects to all these secrets that you think I’m carrying around. Or making me have a meal with you.”

Severus smiled, in spite of this being exactly such an insolent remark as he once would have expected, and despised, from Harry Potter. “I asked you to do so. I paid for the lunch yesterday.” Yes, that reminder was worth it, if only to see the way Harry’s head rose as if he was a hound on the scent. “I don’t think that constitutes forcing you.”

Harry ate in silence for a few minutes, watching Severus more than his plate. Only partially because of that, Severus thought that he noticed more about how much Harry ate than Harry did. He practically inhaled the rare steak on his plate, and then reached for the crusty bread and the butter without seeming to notice that he’d already eaten two pieces.

Severus concealed his frown well, because right now showing it might do more harm than good. Those were the kinds of provisions that someone magically exhausted would indeed swallow like sweets.

I didn’t even ask if he wanted the steak rare. But it doesn’t matter. He needs it.

“All right,” Harry said finally, sitting back and raising an eyebrow at the Galleons in the middle of the table, which he still hadn’t deigned to pick up. “Why don’t we trade? An answer for an answer. Because I still have no idea why you’re doing this, and I don’t think you’d trade me willingly.”

` “As long as you will accept that ‘I don’t know’ might be the answer for a few of those questions.”

Harry blinked and his lips pursed for a moment; then he nodded and leaned forwards. “Why did you think I was almost dead?”

“I told you. Because of your reaction to the sleeping potion.”

"But why did you even suspect that? You know something about the magic I've handled in the past and emerged fine from. What was different about this?"

"I suspect you have no idea how you looked," Severus said. That was honesty; Harry could not have an idea of it, or he would not have been as modest and uncomfortable when someone praised him. "Your skin was pale, your magic whined around you--"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means that your magic usually has a subtle buzzing. This was more like a whine, a mosquito's noise." Severus tilted his head. In reality, that sound wasn't something he had noticed until its absence had manifested when Harry fell asleep, but he had no inclination to tell the complete truth. "I think I've answered more than enough about this question."

Harry glared, but his hands reached out as if he didn't even notice what they were doing and dropped more berry compote on his plate. "Fine. Your turn."

"Why do you not see your achievements as remarkable?"

Harry blinked, but answered at once, even as he also reached for more bread. "Because I've only done the grunt work to get them to where they are. Learning how to get an impression of someone's magic from an object they've touched, for example. Other people figured out the theory on that. I was just the one who made it reality."

Severus let Harry see his rolled eyes. "And you don't think making it real is worthy any celebration?"

"That part was easy compared to the theory, though. My turn. Why do you care about someone celebrating me?"

Severus nodded slowly and leaned back. That was a more complex question than he thought he could answer honestly. "Well. Part of it is because you are achieving things I have literally never seen anyone achieve before. And part of it is because you lied to me about who discovered how to improve the Draught of Peace's potency."

"I never lied."

"I questioned Draco about why he had never let on about these improvements to me. He said he had never discovered them." Severus made his voice softer. "When the man you credited with the improvements denies them himself--"

"He's just modest. Of course he would. And reminding him about the Draught of Peace probably brought up painful memories for him." Harry flattened his hands on the table and, to Severus's displeasure, abandoned the piece of bread smeared with compote that he'd been about to eat. "My turn--"

"It is not."

Harry paused, then said, "Fine. Ask your question."

No better weapon than the same question turned back. Severus let his eyebrows rise. "I doubt all your weapons and gifts and potions are based on theories that Draco created. Why do you think that your efforts are not worthy of celebration?"

"I've already told you."

"Because they are easy. But do you think everything you do is on that same level? Do you think the potions stand you made for me is an easy task that anyone can do?"

Harry paused. Severus leaned forwards a little, attention more focused than he liked. But he doubted Harry would figure out the real impetus behind the question, not when he was so ignorant of everything about himself that someone else might value.

That will, in the end, be my real challenge.

*

What does he want?

No matter how Harry thought about it, it didn't make sense. Snape was Draco's friend, or mentor, or whatever it was. During one of the letters Draco had sent Harry about the gift for Astoria, he had mentioned that Snape frequently used the Manor library, the potions lab, the ingredient storage space, and other rooms. That spoke of an interest in Draco's well-being and marriage, but the questions he was asking Harry didn't sound like he valued Draco. Who asked their friend's abuser for a detailed conversation?

And Snape couldn't want Harry to take his gift back, or start charging more for it, when that would take away something that benefited him personally. He couldn't want to pay for Harry's meals or share meals with him when he didn't like or trust Harry.

In the end, Snape was still waiting for an honest answer, so Harry had to say, "I don't think the potions stand or anything else I made is valueless. But it has less value coming from me than it would from someone else." He hastily continued before Snape could ask another question. "Why are you doing this when I thought you were mostly here to watch over me and ensure I didn't mess up Astoria's gift?"

"That is the reason Draco thinks I'm here, but it is hardly the only reason now. Why does it have less value coming from you than from someone else?"

Harry's hands were clenched so hard in front of him that they hurt. He tried to uncurl his fingers when he saw that--no need to give Snape more ammunition--but Snape's eyes flickered down to them. Harry left them where they were and said, "You're stepping into territory that covers other people's secrets."

"Very well." Snape leaned back and picked up a porcelain cup of what Harry thought was tea.

"I want to know what's the reason that you're really here, if not to protect Draco's investment."

"But I don't have to tell you, because you never answered my last question."

Harry stared at Snape in betrayed outrage. Snape didn't notice. From the smell coming from the cup, it was actually some kind of liquor and not tea. Harry's outrage flared higher when he realized that Snape trusted his own impulse control well enough to drink alcohol around Harry and not lose his temper.

He leaned forwards again, and saw Snape's eyes turn to him. Harry swallowed what anger he'd been tempted to blurt out and lowered his voice. "I'll trade you the answer to what kind of person I am for the answer to my question."

"Accepted," Snape said instantly, which made Harry clench his fingers again. What was the angle? "But because I am more trustworthy than you, you will go first."

God, Harry wanted to punch someone for the first time in years--

And then he reminded himself of what those impulses had led to with Draco, and bowed his head, wincing. It made it easier to speak the truths he needed to. Now that he thought of it, Snape was probably the best person to confess them to. His friendship with Draco meant he wouldn't spread the truth like rumors or bring them up with Draco in a painful way.

"I abused Draco. Emotionally, by being emotionless sometimes and needy and clingy at others. I couldn't give him what he needed. Because he has a warmer heart than anyone suspects, he stayed with me and tried to fix me, even though he was sleeping with Astoria so that he could get what he needed. I never appreciated those efforts. I never looked beyond my own selfish needs to even figure out that the sex wasn't good for him. What kind of person is so blind to their own partner? Draco thought he could heal me, but he finally figured out that my childhood and having had the Horcrux in me made me incapable of love."

It hurt, it still hurt, to say it like that, but Harry tried to think of it as the pain associated with lancing an abscess. It had to be said, had to be done, so that he could discover Snape's game and if he was playing one that would hurt Draco.

*

Severus stared at Harry, and knew that he must look gormless. Never once would he have thought that was what lay behind his earnest attempts to give Draco credit for his magic and his genius. And to know that he thought himself incapable of love...

"Anyway. I want to know." Harry had already tucked the emotions that had been smoldering in his face away, as if he was used to doing this. He raised an eyebrow in a fashion that should not have been as attractive as it was. "What's the reason that you're really here?"

"I am trying to understand what you and Draco are doing."

"Working on Astoria's gift," Harry said, his brow wrinkling up slowly. "Preparing to get married to Astoria."

"No. I did not mean that. I mean the strange dynamic between you." Perhaps it was simply the unsettling revelation he had already endured from Harry, but Severus found the words flowed more easily now. "Why do you give him no blame for sleeping with someone else for years and take all the blame on yourself? Why do you see yourself as an abuser?"

"I already told you. I did abuse him. The least I can do is be honest about it. There's nothing else I can do to heal the pain he's in."

Severus said nothing, but he kept his face bland with an intense effort. That didn't seem like the Harry Potter he had known. Well, perhaps it was like the man who had walked out to martyr himself at the end of the war.

But that had been for the good of many people beyond one partner who had cheated on him. The Harry Potter Severus had known had also valued loyalty to the point that he had only forgiven Severus for killing Albus when he knew it was out of hidden loyalty.

There has to be something else here. Potions are unlikely, when I know none that can produce that effect and Draco has been in contact too infrequent with Harry to use them. I would also think mind control is unlikely when Harry could resist the Imperius Curse. But Legilimency?

Severus nodded slightly. It would perhaps also explain the ruined shields he had seen in Harry's mind.

But he could hardly attempt to read Harry's mind again right now, given how little trust he had earned. He picked up his cup of Firewine and said simply, "Thank you for telling me."

"I'm not hard to figure out once you know what kind of person I really am." Harry gave him a faint, miserable smile. "But why do you think something is going on with Draco?"

Severus sipped the rest of the Firewine in the cup, put it down, and said, "Because I cannot see Draco tolerating the company of someone who had actually abused him no matter how magnificent a gift he wished to create for his future wife."

Harry paused. Then he said, "I know that this is part of my penance."

"Penance?"

"I mean--I have to do something to make up for what I did! I donated a lot of money to various organizations that support people who are victims like Draco was, mostly Muggle ones, but that's not enough! How can it be enough when Draco is still suffering?"

"Do you know he is?"

"He told me he was!"

Severus shook his head. "Then that makes it stranger that he would want you near and doing this, not more understandable."

Harry stood up, glaring. "I know that perhaps you don't understand this," he hissed, "since you probably put all your guilt behind you with the war, but there's such a thing as atonement."

"You're right. I would understand nothing about that, of course."

Harry flushed and closed his eyes tightly. Severus watched him without moving. He would manipulate Harry with guilt and his own awareness of Severus's past if necessary. He would have a certain level of knowledge achieved before they parted today.

"You're right, that wasn't fair. Sorry." Harry opened his eyes and spoke more freely. "But as far as I'm concerned, what Draco wants, he gets. I don't get to question his motivations. I did enough of that when I found out about him and Astoria."

Ah. That told Severus his first reaction had probably been normal, the shock of the betrayal cutting through whatever explanations Draco had tried to offer. Or perhaps the Legilimency that Draco had already tried to put in place? It would be interesting to know if Harry's reactions had changed before or after that discovery.

Harry would not--most likely could not--offer him information on that point. Which meant Severus would have to speak to Weasley and Granger.

"Why are you smiling?"

Severus glanced up. "Simply that you have explained the situation to my satisfaction. And I will not mention what you told me to Draco." It would do no good, he knew. Draco would either lie or was as invested in his own bizarre perspective as Harry was and would speak a twisted truth.

Harry sighed and bowed his head. "Thanks. Sorry for the strangeness over this, but--I never expected to owe someone else a life-debt and have to almost betray Draco to pay it. Thanks again for saving my life." He picked up the piece of bread smeared with berry compote and walked towards the Floo.

"And you will neglect the basic courtesies?"

Harry's body seemed one whole wince. "Good night, Severus."

"Good night, Harry."

Severus waited until he had disappeared through the flames to let his expression change. Yes, he had learned some of the truth, but Draco's motivations were still mysterious, and unlike Harry, Severus had no compulsion not to question them.

And what he had learned tonight had not put him off, as exasperating as it had been. Someone who could be that devoted to another person, to defend them years after the fact...

I want to change him, but not so much that he would become a different person. I will simply give him a better goal to direct those energies towards.