Chapter Eleven of 'Valerian'- Phase One

[lomonaaeren]

Chapter Ten.

Chapter One.

Title: Valerian (11/?)
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 Eleven—Phase One

“Potter. I warned you about coming in the house.”

Harry started and let his head droop. It was easier than he’d expected to act like his subjugated self around Draco. After all, he’d had years to memorize the gestures, to literally have them drilled into his head. “I’m sorry, Draco. I wasn’t coming into the house, I promise. I just have to measure the windows.” He waved his hands around vaguely. “Their proportions are going to matter to the maze that I’m building for Astoria.”

Draco leaned against the sliding glass door he’d pulled over on the side of the Manor and watched Harry with a skeptical look. Harry let the hatred blow through him, bright and insubstantial as flame. He was going to make Draco pay for what he had done, but for right now, the fire had to warm him, not shine out of him.

“Why do the windows matter to the proportions of the maze?”

“Oh,” Harry said, “because I plan to include glass as part of it, reflecting back the essence of your bride, and the nearest reflective glass needs to be—”

“I don’t actually care, Potter.”

Then why did you ask? Harry bit his tongue over that, and also held his head still when he wanted to shake it over his own obliviousness. Without the enchantment Draco had spread over him, his bitterness and abusive nature were obvious. Harry would have cringed and apologized about his answer before this, but why did Draco ask the question in the first place if he didn’t care?

Draco was staring at him, he realized. Harry ducked his head and muttered, “Sorry, Draco.”

“You sound resentful. Of what? Do you think I did something to you, Potter?”

And now that Harry knew what to look for, he could hear the thready undertone of fear in the back of Draco’s voice. But he just widened his eyes and shook his head. “Of course not, Draco! That would be really stupid of me! I was the one who did everything to you, who didn’t trust you, didn’t let you move on and didn’t realize that I was incapable of loving…”

Harry didn’t actually listen to the rest of his own babble, words he could have repeated after a night of drinking and the worst hangover in the world. He just watched the way Draco’s shoulders relaxed and he turned away with a faint smile.

“Good, Potter. Continue preparing the maze. I trust that it will be ready for my wedding with Astoria in a fortnight.”

“Yes, of course, Draco.” Harry bowed. “Thank you for letting me contribute something to your life and make up for my mistake at least a little.”

“Mistakes, Potter. You made so many that it’s hard to count them all now.”

Harry concentrated hard to make sure that his flare of anger didn’t show, either. “Of course,” he repeated in a whisper. “I’ll get started on the maze again right away.” He turned and scuttled away from the house.

He could feel Draco watching him go. At one point, he had thought his awareness of Draco’s gaze and movements came from his lingering love. He suspected now that that had been part of the Legilimency enchantment Draco had woven over him. But now, it came from Harry’s hyper-awareness of his enemy.

I am going to destroy him. I am going to rip him into pieces in every way possible.

Harry sighed, opened his eyes, and walked back to the place where his work waited. The maze was going to be an intricate part of his revenge on Draco, and so he had to work on it. Not that Draco would know what exactly Harry was striving towards now. His understanding of magical theory and his supposed expertise had all come from Harry.

It’s going to be so much fun to pay him back, Harry thought as he knelt to spread out pieces of colored glass in front of him. And he worked without interruption for an hour, before he stood up with a long breath and prepared himself for something considerably less fun.

His visit to Ron and Hermione.

*

Severus approached the Weasleys’ drawing room with quiet steps. He was honestly flattered that Harry had invited Severus to witness his reunion with his closest friends—flattered and concerned. He wondered what it said that Harry didn’t want to face them alone.

Harry was in front of him, and he stopped and rested his hand on the door for a moment, his shoulders stiff. Severus knew from the way he stood that he was holding his breath. But he shook his head and opened the door before Severus could ask him if he was all right.

“Harry?”

Granger’s voice was soft and wondering, as if she doubted that it was Harry even though Severus knew he had warned them he was coming. Harry gulped audibly and shuffled towards them. They were standing in front of the couch, Severus saw, Weasley with wide eyes and Granger with her hands over her mouth.

“And it’s really you, mate?” Weasley demanded, considering Harry closely. “You finally woke up from whatever spell he’s had you under for the past few years?”

“It was worse than a spell,” Harry said, and grimaced. “But yes, I am. Thanks to Severus.” He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes so grateful that Severus’s focus stuttered. When he really paid attention again, Harry had turned back to the two former Gryffindors and made a little face while scratching the back of his neck. “I—I hate Malfoy. I really hate him. And I’m sorry that I was such a git to you. But—I’m back.”

Granger burst into tears and rushed to embrace Harry. Harry flung his arms around her and held her still, closing his eyes.

Weasley stepped up to them and embraced both. Severus waited, a little frozen, with a strange pulsing in his heart. There was no one that he could have hugged like that, not since Lily had died.

For the first time in his life, that thought did not drag along a comet’s tail of resentment and blame with it—neither for himself nor for Harry. He had paid a deeper debt than he knew by saving Harry from Draco’s torment. And Harry had grown to be much more than the son of his old nemesis and old best friend.

Granger was the first one to pull away from the hug, oddly enough. She wiped tears from her face and turned to Severus. “Thank you, sir. I don’t know how we can repay you for getting Harry back, but we’ll try to find something.”

“I would have done it for less than I have received,” Severus said, inclining his head. “Once I knew what had happened, I could not have remained easy in my mind by allowing the situation to endure.”

“He means that he wants to destroy Draco as much as I do,” Harry said cheerfully, taking his seat in the chair across from the couch that Severus had sat in the last time he was here. “Do you have tea we could have, you lot? I’m starving, and Severus doesn’t eat enough.”

Severs started, and then sighed. He supposed he should have known that Harry would assume some of his former annoying habits the minute he was free. But it was still far preferable to the lifeless person he had been.

He sat down not far from Harry, on another chair, and nodded. “Tea would be welcome.”

*

Severus’s discomfort was hilarious.

Harry hadn’t expected it to be. He’d thought he would regret it if Ron and Hermione didn’t make Severus immediately as welcome as they’d made him. But the thing was, Hermione was asking questions about what had happened with her eyes full of shining gratitude, and Ron was sitting back with a cup of tea in his hand and a faint smile, the kind he always wore when he wasn’t sure about someone but wanted to give them a chance.

And Severus looked as if he thought the chair would collapse beneath him at any moment and dump him into some hidden dungeon. Probably decorated with Gryffindor colors, for that extra frisson.

It made Harry wonder, for a moment, what might happen in the future, when this revenge was done, and he needed to think about other ways to fit Severus in with his life...

Harry briskly shook his head. He had promised to give the matter due consideration, but it was a little early to start given that they hadn’t even taken revenge on Draco yet.

“What are you going to do to Malfoy, mate?” Ron asked finally, interrupting Hermione’s request for technical details of the Legilimency Severus had worked on Harry’s mind.

Harry settled back and glanced at Severus. He got a raised eyebrow and a forwards motion of Severus’s hand. Harry half-smiled. This was his plan, and he was responsible for the successes and the faults that would doubtless happen.

He faced Ron. “I reckon Malfoy did what he did to me for fame and money—only partially the money, though, because he grew up with it. I’m going to take his money and his reputation. I’m going to ensure he doesn’t marry Astoria. I suppose I can’t make him a bachelor forever, but it’ll take a good long time.”

“Are you going to trap him in that maze he has you constructing for her and make him wander in circles, reliving his nightmares for the rest of his life?” Ron asked earnestly.

Harry blinked at him. Hermione’s mouth opened a little. Severus nodded as if considering what Ron had said from several different angles. “That would be a piece of revenge I would find adequate considering what he has done to Harry.”

Harry didn’t miss the ways Hermione’s glance darted back and forth between them when Severus said that. He managed to subtly scowl at her, and Hermione shrugged and returned to watching Ron.

“When did you get so bloodthirsty, Ron?” Harry asked, a little awed.

“When I heard what he did to my best mate and how he tortured him for five years, since he was using Legilimency on you so early in the bloody relationship.” Ron’s voice roughened. “I know why you don’t want to kill him, but I do. I want to torture him back. He should suffer.”

“I think you and I might have some things to discuss. Mr. Weasley.”

“I’m going to thank you not to try and take my revenge out of my hands,” Harry said softly. Both Ron and Severus paused and looked at him. “I don’t think I should need to put it more strongly than that.”

Ron sighed gustily and kicked his foot against the bottom of the table in front of the couch. “No, you don’t need to. But it’s stupid, what he did. It’s terrible. It’s terrible that he got away with it so long.”

Harry shrugged. “I had a few thoughts about reporting him to the Aurors, but that would lead to interrogations and the trial being hashed out in public since he and I are both so well-known, and I don’t want people to tell me that I should have been stronger than to let him get into my mind or some other piece of bollocks.”

“People would not say that,” said Severus. “Not once we made them understand what happened to you.”

Harry turned and looked at him. Severus scowled at him. “What are you wearing that stupid expression for?”

“I’m amazed that you have so much faith in the wizarding public,” Harry said. “When you remember that after the war, they chose to extol Cornelius Fudge, of all people, as a hero, for trying to keep the ‘peace’ in Britain after Voldemort returned, and let Dolores Umbridge go without a trial, and waved around those tales that I was in St. Mungo’s because I was unstable every time I got injured when I was in Auror training, and tried to pass those laws that would have restricted Muggleborns—”

Severus sighed in exhaustion. “All right. But you said that you are going to try and tame that beast to tarnish Draco’s reputation in the papers. Are you sure that’s going to work?”

Harry smiled a little. “I only need to make someone else a more tempting target than I am. For years, I didn’t do that because I wanted to be virtuous and that would have been underhanded and Slytherin. But it’s time to reclaim the House that the Hat always thought I would do well in.”

Severus stared at him. Hermione, of all people, was the one to laugh at that, and give him some advice. “You’ll get used to hearing things like this if you stay around him, Professor.”

Harry shot her a sideways warning glance. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had already guessed some of what bound him and Severus together, but he didn’t want it voiced. Hermione nodded solemnly back to him, and Harry was almost convinced she would keep her mouth shut.

Almost.

*

“Miss Greengrass. I hoped to speak with you privately.”

Astoria tensed, the artful curls tumbling around her face looking far more wild than collected as she turned around to face Severus. Severus offered her a polite bow and a bland expression. He gestured to the gardens behind the house, far away from the place where Harry was building the maze. “Will you walk with me? I find myself somewhat at loose ends today, with one research project finished and ideas for the next one only now gathering.”

Astoria swallowed, but walked across the wide drawing room to join him. The carpet in this one was a dark wine-red, an odd fancy of Narcissa’s. Severus was just as glad to leave it. He would probably never care much for the color, no matter how distant he grew from his old House at Hogwarts.

“What was your research project, Professor?” she asked politely. Severus didn’t bother correcting her on the mistaken title as they went through a side door into the gardens and began to round one marble corner of the Manor.

“Enhancing the effectiveness of various potions by changing the brew times.”

“Oh? I thought most of the experiments with varying length of stirring and so on had already been done?”

Severus shook his head. “Not that. The day of the brewing, the position and phase of the moon, how many days have passed since the last great astronomical event…that sort of thing. I am certainly finding more applications for Astronomy in Potions than I ever had before.”

Astoria’s shoulders drooped a little with what looked like relief. “I never found much use for Astronomy myself, when I was at school,” she admitted, turning to face him. “I think it was probably my least favorite class. Yours was my favorite, of course, Professor Snape.”

Severus smiled at the effort to curry favor so long after the fact, even as he nodded and let his mind slip out, shining, into hers. He had perfected Legilimency to a height of subtlety over the years that even the Dark Lord would have envied. “I understand you, Miss Greengrass. There is a delicacy in Potions that few people can appreciate…”

He found the image of Harry’s face almost at once. It was a central fact in Astoria’s consciousness, the knots of the web connecting her to shadows of fear, wild ravages of guilt, an ice-like determination to marry Draco because she felt she deserved him, and a brewing upset that was the color of vomit. She had a very visual mind.

Severus stepped back and covered up his tracks with an easy drift of blown memory that Draco wouldn’t be able to penetrate if he did chance to look into his “beloved’s” thoughts. He drew out the conversation for a little longer, and then bowed and strode away from her in the direction of the library as if a thought had occurred to him.

One had, but not one that he liked.

Astoria had not participated in the Legilimency used against Harry herself. There had been enough guilt that Severus thought she had never felt entirely easy about it, although with the light probe he had done, he had not been able to uncover any specific memories, such as her protesting when Draco did it.

However, she had said nothing. She had stood back and let things continue as they were, when it would have taken only her word to end Draco’s control over Harry. His friends would have acted on anyone’s word, even that from someone they’d had no reason to trust, and dragged Harry to a Mind-Healer if necessary.

But Astoria had not. And why?

That determination of hers to marry Draco truly did shine like ice, so bright that Severus had winced back from the look of it.

For money. For comfort. The Greengrasses were a pure-blood family, but nowhere near as wealthy as the Malfoys, although Severus would have given much when he was a child for their kind of “poverty.” Astoria desired a life where she need do nothing all day but play her harp if she wanted. Even getting up and drifting in search of an ice was beyond her, it seemed, if she could have a house-elf do it instead.

She cared for nothing and no one as long as she was able to have what she wanted.

It was not as disgusting as the harm that Draco had inflicted, but it was, in a way, colder.

*

Harry smiled a little as he stepped back from the panes of glass he had finished laying partially in the grass—but only partially. They had twisted through more than the normal three dimensions, so that part of them lay like flat and glimmering ponds of topaz or sapphire in the ground, and the rest hovered in the air as barely visible curves.

“It looks stunning.”

Harry turned, a little annoyed with himself that he hadn’t heard Severus’s approach, but smiled at him. “Thank you. The colors are an important part of the pattern, but they’re mostly meant to distract attention from the whole, if I’m being honest.”

“I would wish to encourage you to always be honest with me,” Severus murmured, but he didn’t seem to mean the words as some kind of grand pronouncement, since his eyes were slowly tracing the rise and fall of the transparent hues in the air. “I—did you twist this out of common with this plane?”

“I would phrase it as going through more than three dimensions, but yes. The concept of planes never made all that much sense to me magically,” Harry added, when Severus opened his mouth as if to complain.

The man closed it again and studied the glass in silence. Then he turned to Harry. “You need not worry about lacking support when you begin to advertise your true talents, even if some people blame you for being weak. Once more wizards and witches understand exactly what you are doing with your business, you will revolutionize magical theory.”

Harry blinked slowly. He knew that some of what he had come up with was unusual, and of course now that his mind was clear from the fog of forced “love,” he knew he deserved credit for his ideas. But he had never thought of it in the terms Severus was putting it in. Magical theory was something abstruse and technical that was for geniuses like Hermione, not him.

“Do you not believe me?”

Severus sounded as if he was prepared to go to war to defend his conclusions. Harry huffed a little laugh and shook his head. “Not that. I mean—not like that. Just that I never thought of myself as a magical theoretician.”

“What did you think of yourself as?”

“Before anything else?”

“Yes.”

“Just Harry,” Harry murmured. “That was when I thought when I came to Hogwarts. I wanted a place where people would see me without my last name or the incredible thing they thought I’d done, which I’d never even heard of until a month before I started school there. I’m—not common, but. Ordinary.”

Severus stepped forwards and cupped his hands around Harry’s cheeks. Harry stared up at him with wide eyes, already beginning to feel his face burn, but Severus dropped his hands and moved away before someone could spy them from the Manor house, or Harry could properly react.

“You are not that,” Severus said. “No more than the stars are.”

And as if he thought he had said too much, he turned and strode back towards Malfoy Manor.

Harry watched him go in thought as bright as the glass.