Chapter Forty-Six of 'Changing of the Guard'- The Glamour Principle

[lomonaaeren]

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Forty-Six—The Glamour Principle

Harry peered at himself critically in the mirror. Well, he had the face right—short black hair, skin paler than necessary, gray eyes that resembled Draco’s—but John Grey would require the spirit. Closing his eyes, Harry summoned forth Vivian Wilde.

To sink within such a spirit, one that resented and feared everyone around him, was disgusting. But Harry managed a single shudder and then did so. Here, his newfound control was an especially good thing. Vivian’s persona could surround and encase him without seeping into and dirtying him. Harry looked out as through a pane of scum-smeared glass, whilst Vivian looked anxiously around and then covered up the mirror by hanging a white cloth. He didn’t wish to look at himself in such a mood. When he peered too closely, he thought the coarse features of his Muggle mother drowned out the aristocratic ones of his Malfoy father.

Vivian began to pace up and down the room, his hands clasped behind his back, his mind racing on what he would need to do to impress Mr. Grey. His importance made him of even more account than his wealth. He must balance between respect and fawning, between pride and fear. Mr. Grey couldn’t think him a cringing coward or a disgrace to the Malfoy family, even though he had little reason to regard the Malfoy family favorably just at present.

Harry snorted to himself and let his body walk, settling into the jerky gait that Vivian preferred to use. He was a little taller than normal thanks to insets in his boots, and he preferred to practice before he had to show off in front of his audience.

That is, if he did show off in front of his audience. Grey hadn’t yet responded to the owl Harry had sent off to him, weaving a complicated but plausible tale of a way they could meet in public and embarrass Harry Potter and his cousin Draco.

No, Vivian’s cousin Draco.

Harry grimaced wryly to himself. Draco had been more right than he knew about the necessity of Harry asserting control over his personas. He was so used to slipping into them, not as a defensive tactic but because it was the way Metamorphosis had survived, that he was apt to do it when he didn’t need to. He would do well to become more conscious of the process and decide when he should do it and when it wasn’t such a priority.

*

“Cousin Draco! Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”

Not even long training in Lucius’s disdain of the man could keep Draco from relaxing at the sight of his cousin Maxwell, kneeling down to peer into the fireplace through which Draco had firecalled. A young boy was standing on his back and attempting to choke him, but apparently Draco’s call was more a matter of concern for Maxwell. Considering the thick flaps of skin that guarded his neck, Draco could see why.

Maxwell was Lucius’s opposite in being jovial and bearing thick traces of gray in his pale brown hair that he never bothered to disguise, but those were superficialities. Draco knew that humor could be pointed and cruel. No, the real difference was in the feeling he exuded. Maxwell made people comfortable around him, and that was not something Lucius could be accused of doing, even by mistake.

“Not entirely a pleasant surprise, I’m afraid,” Draco admitted. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Go see what Constantia’s doing,” Maxwell said, and swung the little boy off his back. The boy leaned against his knee for a moment and opened his mouth, into which Maxwell dropped a sweet. Then he trotted away with his thumb in his mouth. Draco barely kept from shuddering. Maxwell turned back to him and nodded. “Well, what is it?”

“You’ve probably heard that I’m Harry Potter’s partner by now, and the leader of a movement that requests equal rights for homosexual wizards,” Draco said. Maxwell had to know. He didn’t keep up on the pure-blood social news that made up the substance of most of Lucius’s conversation, but he read the Daily Prophet, always alert for any move Lucius might make to disgrace him or take away his small amount of money.

“Yes,” Maxwell said, a grin speeding across his face like a comet, “and a capital disgrace to the family, too!” He thrust out his hand as if he would shake Draco’s through the fire. “Always said that Lucius would spoil your perfect obedience by raising you up too tightly. The colt who accepts a rein when he’s young doesn’t always want to take a full harness when he’s older, you know.”

Draco, though he didn’t like this metaphor much better than his cousin’s overindulgence towards his grandchildren, let his hand be clasped and wrung. Then he said, “And this will make me even more of a disgrace to the family, if you agree to help.”

Maxwell widened his eyes and flapped his ears, a trick he had learned to do without magic, for some reason. “Do explain.”

“Harry wants to use the identity of a scapegrace son of yours to bring down the major enemy our rebellion—“

“Rebellion?” Maxwell’s smile almost touched his ears by now. “Better and better!”

Draco coughed. He’d become accustomed to referring to the movement by the same name Harry gave it, and would have certainly reconsidered it if he was talking to his father. But he wasn’t stupid; he could follow up on a fortuitous mistake. “Yes. The major enemy is a man named John Grey. You might have heard of him.”

Maxwell lost his smile. “Yes, I have,” he said. “Never mind the context. I’m sure he’s too much of a gentleman to have revealed it, though that didn’t keep him from trying to blackmail me.” He leaned closer. “What do you need me to do? Testify to the existence of this son if anyone inquires? Living at a distance from the wizarding world and mingling with the Muggle one has its advantages, you know.”

“If this plan works as we hope,” said Draco, “Grey will agree to meet your imaginary son in public. To do that, we’ll need your permission to use your name, of course, but we might need your testimony as to Vivian Wilde’s existence—“

“Vivian?” Maxwell interrupted, with a snort.

Draco smiled a little. “Harry chose the name, not I.”

“Wilde,” Maxwell continued, and then threw his head back and laughed. “Well, at least your Harry doesn’t have to worry about Grey reading Muggle history and recognizing the reference! Or seeing a Muggle drama, for that matter.”

“I beg your pardon?” Harry hadn’t told Draco he’d chosen a famous name. That was something they would have to speak about. Likely he hadn’t believed it would be a danger, but Draco thought he should have been asked about it nonetheless.

“And neither do you.” Maxwell grinned at him. “If it’s to destroy Grey—which is certainly a good cause—then I’ll give you all the support you could wish. Swear to Vivian’s existence and make up a whole story about it, if you like.”

“Actually,” Draco said, reaching with some relief to the leather-bound folder beside him, “Harry asked me to give you a few particulars he’d made up himself, so that the stories won’t contradict each other.”

“So sure of my acceptance, was he?” Maxwell asked, but he reached through the flames and took the folder without any sign of offense. He flicked past a few pages, chuckled, and then shut the folder with a decisive snap and nodded. “Well. This will do nicely. Tell your partner that he’s quite a storyteller, and he’d be welcome at my house to exchange a few tales. I could tell him about the time when Lucius convinced himself he was in love with another man, for example.”

Already mentally withdrawing from the conversation and attending to the second part of the plan—which would require much more concentration and magical strength, at least from him—Draco winced as his head snapped around to face his cousin. “He was what?”

“Oh, it was in the days just after Hogwarts,” said Maxwell, grinning widely at him now, “just before he became quite so tied up with that Dark Lord nonsense, and certainly before he married. You needn’t fear he was ever unfaithful to your mother. As I said to him some years ago, she must have frozen his—“

“Sir,” Draco said as coldly as he could considering his fascination, “I will not submit to having my mother abused.”

“Then get her out of Malfoy Manor,” Maxwell said, but continued before Draco could make any other objections. “He fell in love with one of the most charming young men I’ve ever laid eyes on. Augustus was his first name, but I’ll be damned if I can remember what his last one was. And Lucius had a passion for him, oh yes. Augustus could outthink him, outdance him, out-ride him when they went up together on winged horses. He knew more jokes, and Lucius could actually appreciate his sense of humor. I don’t know if it ever got into the bedchamber, but I don’t think it can have, because Lucius would smile more often, if that happened.”

“He told me nothing of this,” Draco muttered.

“Of course not,” said Maxwell. “He woke up rather abruptly when Augustus told him that he expected Lucius to stay with him permanently and give up notions of marriage, if he really was in love. He’d thought of the affair as a summer matter, but Augustus had a constitution that wanted—demanded—more than that.” He leaned forwards and peered at Draco keenly. “It sounds like your Harry is the same way. See you don’t disappoint him. I know all sorts of embarrassing family secrets and could quite easily make your life too interesting to live in Britain.”

Draco pressed his hand to his heart, which was already beating faster with the revelation of Lucius’s hypocrisy. “And what happened between—my father and Augustus?”

“Lucius rejected him and went off to the bride his father had been urging him to marry for several years.” Maxwell shrugged. “Understand, I don’t blame your mother for making Lucius the humorless bastard he is—he always was that way—but I think he would have been better if he’d allowed himself to let go once, if he’d been able to sustain one insult to his pride. He certainly would have treated you better.”

“He should have done that in any case,” Draco said coolly.

“There, we can agree.” Maxwell nodded. “You have my permission to use the Malfoy name. And do tell your Harry he’s welcome here.” He gave Draco a grin that had a touch too much innocence to really pass. “There’s some people I’d like to introduce him to, as second choices in case you ever argue with him too much.”

And then he cut off the Floo connection, leaving Draco to stare at the fireplace. He stood up after a moment with a shake of his head.

He could see why his father avoided his cousin’s company, and it had nothing to do with notions of propriety. Well, less than he had thought, in any case.

*

“Again.” Harry’s voice held an iron patience, which Draco disliked, but he knew he might have sounded much the same way when he was explaining to Harry why it was necessary that he control his personas. This was one of the simplest things for Harry to do, the exercise of magic. Draco was determined to measure up to him, but even more frustrated to find that he couldn’t do it on the first try.

For now, he gritted his teeth, nodded, and took a step back to face Harry across the large drawing room on the ground floor at the back of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. All the furniture had been moved away from the center of the carpet, leaving several deep indentations in it. The large black curtains covering the windows had also been tugged back so they could clearly see one another’s faces.

Harry was wearing Vivian Wilde’s face at the moment, and Draco had to admit that he looked completely different; even the tilt of his head was different, and he’d acquired a nervous mannerism of starting at the slightest sound that was sufficiently annoying to please John Grey. Despite what he’d said the other night, Draco knew he’d been lucky that Harry’s emotions had caused him to reveal his real self to Draco. If he’d remained secure in the persona of Brian, Draco doubted he would ever have learned the truth.

And that would have been a pity.

“Fix your eyes on me,” Harry said in a commanding, soothing voice that, luckily, wasn’t different from his normal one. Draco hated to think he needed soothing, but he had failed five times to perform this spell, and perhaps he’d shown a little temper. He looked Harry in the eye, and Harry nodded encouragingly. “Good. Now think—you can’t say it aloud, in case Nusante suspects something—Surrogo Harry Potter in loco suo cum vultu meo.”

Draco drew in a long breath and nodded. It was useless to explain that he thought the incantation too long, and that he’d always had more trouble putting power into nonverbal spells; this was what had to happen to make Harry’s plan work, so he would do it.

And then Harry gave him a single rich smile, out of place on Vivian’s insufferable face, and whispered, “I love you so much for being willing to try. I know it isn’t easy for you.”

Draco smiled back, ridiculously comfortable now. He locked his eyes on Harry’s once more and repeated the incantation faithfully in his head. At least he didn’t need to worry about forgetting it, now that Harry had drilled him in so relentlessly.

Magic gripped him and flung him through space. Draco staggered a little—Harry had warned him that would happen, and also that he would need to come up with a plausible explanation for Grey—and then stood up straight on the patch of carpet Harry had occupied, gasping. The first thing that caught his eye was his own face in the mirror beyond Harry’s shoulder, on the other side of the room. When he’d last seen himself, he was wearing a glamour of Harry’s features. Now gray eyes stared back at him.

I replace Harry Potter in his own place with my own face. Harry would have used the same incantation, except he would have substituted Draco’s name. And, sure enough, he was missing the glamour of Wilde now, and standing where Draco had been.

Before Draco could get his breath back or get over his astonishment that it had worked, he found himself caught in one of Harry’s embraces that made his ribs and spine squeeze. He’d discovered in the last few days that Harry had one of those and used it whenever he was pleased. Draco folded his arms around him and hugged him smugly back. He might be the only person in the last ten years who’d ever received one of those embraces just because Harry wanted to give it.

“Now only Grey’s acceptance remains, and the owl to Nusante,” Harry said, his eyes brilliant. “Neither of them is ever going to understand what happened. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Though Draco generally preferred his enemies to know what happened so he could hold it over their heads and gloat about it, he nodded. Harry would probably always hide behind deception to a certain extent, but how could Draco forbid him from taking joy in that, when it made him so powerful?

*

Vivian shifted from foot to foot and looked over his shoulder twice. It had taken a week to get Grey to agree to this meeting. Suppose he gave up all notion of attending at the last moment? Vivian would be in trouble with his father, and Maxwell would certainly inform his cousin Draco. And then—

“Wilde?”

Vivian heaved a sigh he sincerely hoped would pass unnoticed, and then turned and bowed to Grey. He was a tall man with short dark hair, unexceptionable features, and eyes of a muddy color somewhere between gray and green. But those eyes were also piercing, and they studied Vivian in a fashion that made him certain Grey knew everything about him, from his past sins to how much his robes cost.

“Sir,” Vivian said, and managed not to stutter. He was proud of himself. “Thank you for meeting me.”

Grey stared at him for a moment more, then said, “I don’t care to talk about inconsequentialities. I’m here to find out if you can deliver to me what you promised.”

“Yes, sir,” said Vivian, and put his hands in his robe pockets to keep the sweat from showing. From Grey’s contemptuous stare, he knew perfectly well what he was doing, and why. Vivian cleared his throat and tried to ignore his own flush. “If you’d care to come this way, the restaurant has a private table from which we can observe Nusante’s arrival unseen, and where we can talk without fear of being overheard.”

Grey inclined his head sharply and followed him across the floor, which was scattered with a variety of small white tables. They’d agreed to meet in a small wizarding restaurant not far from Hogsmeade, the haunt of artists drawn by the splendid Scottish scenery to be seen through the glittering stained glass windows, and where Raymond Nusante was a frequent visitor. Vivian had promised Grey he’d draw Nusante and Harry Potter to the restaurant at the same time, and afford him the means of publicly embarrassing them. He’d also said that he’d diverted his cousin Draco’s money which was supposed to go to support the rebellion and was ready to place it in Grey’s hand the same day.

And there was another reason he had asked Grey to come here—

Anxiously, Vivian cut off the other thought. He wasn’t ready to think that yet.

The private table had mahogany walls and benches, on either side of a table of richly carved marble decorated with veins of blue. A large, though plain, glass window beside them looked out on a waterfall and green hills. Grey ignored the view and leaned forwards to stare directly into Vivian’s eyes once more.

“So talk,” he said.

*

Draco resisted the temptation to run a hand through his hair. He knew it would do no good for Harry’s disordered mat, which he was wearing at the moment thanks to a complicated combination of glamours and Transfiguration that Draco doubted he would be able to perform himself. Draco had wanted to know why they couldn’t just use Polyjuice, but Harry had pointed out, with commendable patience, that that wouldn’t fade on a nonverbal spell command. When Draco had asked how he could be sure the glamours and Transfigurations would fade with the spell, Harry had gone off into a long explanation about triggers and linked wards and binding threads that Draco couldn’t follow.

I can’t follow it yet. Draco intended to correct the deficiency in his knowledge as soon as he could. Maybe he would never be Harry’s magical equal, but he intended to be his intellectual one. For the moment, it was enough to know that the glamours and Transfigurations would pull apart and collapse together, as long as he could use the spell correctly.

“I still don’t see why we had to come here,” whinged Nusante from behind him, a piercing sound which went straight through Draco’s head. “We could have spoken in the privacy of your home and not been overheard.”

“I didn’t think you would be comfortable there.” An audible glamour made Draco’s voice a copy of Harry’s, and from there he just had to be careful not to use certain inflections and tones that might betray the difference between them. He glanced over his shoulder at Nusante and smirked. It was not a normal expression of Harry’s, but only one person in the potential audience of three would know that. “And I prefer not to invite you into my home if at all possible.”

Nusante lifted his chin. He was so much the picture of offended youth that Draco had to wonder for a moment if he had ever really been that young, even when he was nineteen, Nusante’s age. Of course, this boy hadn’t had to go through a war and see his parents revealed as cringing servants to a Dark Lord. “You know my terms,” he said. “I won’t consent to support you wholeheartedly until I see you physically fight for us.”

“I know,” Draco said, and it was surprisingly easy to put compassion into his voice. Yes, he had been this young once, though when he was fifteen rather than nineteen. He knew that same longing to strike back, to shed blood because he thought it was the only way to repay the intense humiliation and rejection he was suffering. And at least Nusante was suffering at the hands of an entire society, not one boy who beat him roundly at Quidditch. “But I can at least speak to you and try to smooth this matter over. I don’t want the rebellion to splinter because some of us follow you and some follow me.”

“And your partner,” Nusante muttered, but he suffered Draco to lead him into the restaurant.

Draco became aware of Harry, in the guise of Vivian, and Grey at the same moment as they became aware of him, if the way Grey stiffened in his seat was any indication. But Nusante wasn’t glancing at them, and nor was anyone else in the restaurant. Harry would have cast a spell the moment he sat down that would mimic the effect of a Disillusionment Charm for anyone not keyed into it. Draco was carrying the key, a small silver ring, on a chain around his neck. He felt the tingling wash of magic over him, and then a reversal of the tingling as Harry’s magic met more of Harry’s magic and rebounded.

He led Nusante to a table in the middle of the restaurant and ordered a glass of the flavored Firewhiskey that was their specialty. Then he leaned forwards to make meaningless talk of reconciliation with Nusante—the sort of thing he could do in his sleep—whilst he waited for Harry to make his move.

*

Harry surfaced through the mask of Vivian holding his breath. Dear God, hiding beneath his prejudice was foul. But the effort had been worth it. He had showed Grey documents—from Draco himself—that absolutely convinced Grey Vivian had got hold of the money Draco meant to go to the rebellion. And he had promised to bring Nusante and Harry to the restaurant, and here they were.

“You said he would come with Harry Potter,” Grey breathed, his attention fully on the disguised Draco. “And you told the truth.” Briefly he looked at Harry, and his smile was warm in the same way a lizard basking on a rock was. “You shall be greatly rewarded for your cooperation and information, Wilde.”

Harry touched Vivian’s thoughts and nervousness, and set them in motion like a clockwork toy. Vivian murmured, “I do have some notion of what I would like for a reward, sir,” even as Harry cast Finite Incantatem for the spell that had sealed them from observation at the corner table. A few people cast them startled glances, but Grey didn’t appear to notice. “One very short-term thing, and one very long-term one.”

“The long-term one to be power and influence, of course,” Grey said. He was studying Draco-as-Harry critically, and probably observing everything from the way he carried his wand to the make of his robes, Harry knew. Grey was a dangerous man, though Harry hoped to render him less dangerous after today. “And what is the short-term one?”

Harry gave Vivian’s nervous cough. Grey turned to him, raising his eyebrow.

Harry paused as if gathering his courage, then lunged across the table, fastened both his hands on the sides of Grey’s face, and kissed him.

And, at the same moment as Grey was tensing with startlement and then with rage, Malcolm Therris—whom Harry had invited unbeknownst to anyone, even Draco—stepped out of a corner room, snapped a photograph, and said in his best professional reporter’s voice, “Would you consent to tell the Prophet’s readers the fascinating story of your newly discovered sexual orientation, Mr. Grey?”

Chapter 47.

Comments

[bobpotter.livejournal.com]

Brilliant! Kiss and tell has a new meaning in the wizard world today. Of course he will deny it and no one will listen after seeing the photo. Now Vivian has a real enemy but so what, he does not exist! Mr. Grey better never find out who it really is. Very interesting indeed.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Grey will indeed have a great deal of trouble, and if they can persuade him to pursue Vivian, all the better. Part of the reason Harry and Draco pulled this off is so that Harry- who's the better at acting- could fool Grey better without revealing just how skilled he really is, but there's another part of the plan that hasn't been revealed yet.

[duchessa.livejournal.com]

I like Maxwell. I think he and Harry would get on swimmingly, if they ever do meet each other. That tidbit about Lucius was a surprise, and I have a bout of unholy glee to hear the parallels between this 'Augustus' and Harry. Like Father, like son, eh?

Only four more chapters to go - I'm a bit sad, but am looking forward to see how you would wrap things up!

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Maxwell might be a little overwhelming even for Harry for hours at a time, though.

Lucius would say that at least he can control himself around the man who wants him to abandon the Malfoy family and fortune, unlike Draco.

I'll also be sad to stop writing this story, but it's better to end it where I planned than let it drag on forever.

[firedraygon97.livejournal.com]

Hahahaha, I love that 'nervous' cough before the lip lock. Harry's such a great actor, living as the character and not just playing it. Though I'm glad he has his little shell of self awareness blocking the other persona from seeping through.

Hee, and I liked this line: Though Draco generally preferred his enemies to know what happened so he could hold it over their heads and gloat about it, he nodded. So very Draco. I was thoroughly amused as I read passed it, haha.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you! He's probably a better character actor now than he was before. When he's not actually submerged in the persona, he can think about inconsistencies in his presentation and make better conscious choices about his actions.

Draco and Harry have their differences even now, but hopefully that one won't cause trouble between them. :)

[lotus-lizzy.livejournal.com]

This is great! The end moment was priceless. I agree with previous posters, I will be very sad when this ends. Thanks for entertaining us.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[nimue-8.livejournal.com]

Amazing! This fic is constant incredible fun and inventiveness.

I was wondering what their plan was. He he he!
But I also enjoy thoroughly the details and subplots, like Lucius' past or jovial cousin Maxwell. Max is really coulorful and I liked that, although Draco and him sympathized on a level, they were too different to completely get along.

When they practiced together, I liked that Harry was able to be Vivien and himself to support Draco. As for Draco, it's interesting that he can somewhat understand where young, exasperating Nusante comes from. Nusante and pseudo-Harry were a bait, but does the playwright serves another purpose? Do they have something in store for him?

Finally, I agree with with firedraygon's quote: pure Slytherin, hilarious Draco!

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

I think details are part of what makes a long fic like this fun to read. If it's just a straight, relentless plotline without many side-trips, the story probably doesn't need to be novel-length.

Maxwell and Draco would drive each other crazy. Or rather, Maxwell would drive Draco crazy and Draco would make inconsequential attempts at revenge. :)

The next part of the plan confirms why they brought Nusante. The major problem at this point is that I could have written one very long chapter and one very short one, but instead I split the action over a cliffhanger.

And thank you!

[agr8fae.livejournal.com]

Amazing! I am constantly amazed at all the subplots you fit into all your stories, that I sometimes wonder how you manage to have room in your head for anything except fanfiction. I loved Maxwell and his little story about Lucius. The last bit was absolutely priceless: no one will take Grey seriously now!
Thanks!

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

Comes from long years of thinking about original fiction plotlines. Hey, if I can keep every member of an extended invented family straight, I can do it with this.

And Grey is going to be in soooo much trouble.

[hogwartshoney.livejournal.com]

I like the way Harry can put enough mental distance between his personas and himself - it shows that he's growing and is more comfortable with who he is as a person.

Bonus points for that kiss and the photo.

Double bonus points for Lucius' little affair with Augustus (Rookwood, I'm thinking?) wonder whether Draco will get to use that against him!

Keep the tale coming, hon, it's most excellent! ;o)

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Yes, and he never would have managed that if not for Draco's insistence. He owes a lot to Draco; he's beginning to realize how much.

Thank you!

Maybe it was Augustus Rookwood! I can't see Lucius admitting it no matter who it was, though. :)

In a few weeks, the tale will be at an end, but I hope you continue to enjoy it until then!

[ghighines.livejournal.com]

This chap was just great.

Your sub-plots drive me crazy.

I liked both Maxwell and Draco interactiona and Vivian and Grey. You really have a great Slytherin mind.

The affair of Lucius with Augustus had me in shock for some seconds, but it really showed the hypocrisy of Lucius as regards himself and Draco.

Harry is becoming more himself and really it's great to see his progress as to separate himself from his personas.

And Draco Slytherin as ever:D.

Great, i'll be waiting to see what happens.

*laughs madlty* he kissed GREY in front of a reporter, he is soooo in trouble.

!

[calmnla.livejournal.com]

I see a future for Metamorphosis with TWO actors. Draco appreciates the art of the personas, and now you have him practicing some of it, and showing a drive to learn at least the theory of how Harry does what he does in creating and maintaining his persona collection.

You are writing three detailed, fascinating stories simultaneously. The only conclusion I can draw is that I am lazy. How do you do it?!?

[tari_sue]

HA! This Harry really does have a Slytherin streak a mile wide :D

I almost feel a little sorry for Lucius now – like maybe the reason he resents Draco's relationship with Harry so much is because he doesn't see why Draco should have what he couldn't. I only almost feel sorry for him though. I like the way you make him human, rather than just saying he's bad because he is.

[ravenqueen55.livejournal.com]

Oh this plot of Harry and Draco's just keeps getting better and better! I loved Maxwell's utter joy at being asked to be part of this plan, and his glee in being able to tell Draco of Lucius's dalliance with a man. Ah...Lucius is so repressed it's not even funny.

[star-faerie.livejournal.com]

Fantastic chapter.

[beatnikspinster.livejournal.com]

Hahahahaha!!! Very very nice! I love it!

[kluminia.livejournal.com]

Each chapter....brilliant as the next. You are so amazingly talented...I love the worlds you create. Their complexity, challenges, oddities and strengths.
I am always so blow away by what your imagination can conjur.

"Draco intended to correct the deficiency in his knowledge as soon as he could. Maybe he would never be Harry’s magical equal, but he intended to be his intellectual one. "

I loved this line the most.....It seems to summarize alot of what I feel about this particular H/D story. Its a story about equality and strength, in all their many forms.

Amazing

[martinstjohn.livejournal.com]

Amazing twist, m'dear. I am, as always, sitting here on my little cliff edge, wondering where this delightful story will be going next.

[melonbutterfly.livejournal.com]

Oh my god! I didn't expect that, though I know think I should have.
Oh dear. That was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I laughed so hard xD
I don't really understand the nonverbal spell, though. It makes... what? It vanishes the glamour that disguises Draco as Harry?
At first I thought it would replace Draco's face with Harry's, but that doesn't really make sense. Does it?
I fear it's a language problem... (I thought I got over those a while ago... *sigh*)

And I wonder... was that really everything they planned? Because Draco didn't know about the photographer, and if he didn't, what did he think this was all about? The plot, I mean.
So, I think there's more to come. I'm curious if that was all Nusante was, a bait. And if Grey really is neutralised now - because that seemed too easy, somehow. (My natural mistrust surfaces again...)
Er, I think I'm just not cunning (or intelligent...) enough to grasp the whole concept yet.

The Ron/Hermione plot! I'm so curious! And will Lucius finally concede? He can't win anyway.
Have I mentioned yet how glad I am that I'm not up-to-date? <3