[From Samhain to the Solstice]: The Strength of Gold, Harry/Theo, 3/4, R

[lomonaaeren]

Thank you again for all the reviews! And yeah, this is going to be more than three chapters.

Part Three

“Mate.”

Harry blinked and turned around. Ron was standing behind him, and that had become such a rare sight in the Ministry that Harry actually thought he was dreaming for a moment. Then he shrugged a little and said, “Hi, Ron.”

“Can we talk?”

Harry nodded slowly. “All right.”

Ron led him out of the Ministry—no surprise—and to a café in Diagon Alley that Harry had heard about but hadn’t had time to try. They seemed to serve exclusively sweets and puddings. After a bit of internal debate, Harry chose a slice of pie that seemed to have so many berries mixed together in it that he didn’t know for sure which ones he was tasting. He only knew that it was good.

“Hermione’s worried about you.” Ron blurted out, a few minutes into the silent meal.

Harry cut another piece of his pie, swallowed it, and then replied, “She doesn’t need to be.”

“She says you shouldn’t be a Hit Wizard.”

“That isn’t her decision.”

Ron toyed with his fork, looking down at the remains of something that had been some kind of creamy pudding. Harry hadn’t paid that much attention to what Ron had got. “Why did you decide to become one?”

“I didn’t. I killed someone in the Aurors, and Shacklebolt and Robards decided they had to put me somewhere that my violence could serve the Ministry.” Harry smiled a little at the way Ron flinched. He knew it was a mean smile, and he did it anyway. “They were the ones who made the decision.”

“But that means…”

“Yeah. The Ministry condones violence. They can say all they like about how Hit Wizards don’t kill so often and only the worst criminals who might kill other people and so on. They’re still the ones who established the department and chose to transfer me there.”

“But why Nott?”

“He was the only one without a partner.”

“But he was—a Death Eater.”

“He was never Marked,” Harry said mildly. He knew how little difference that made, but Ron had never persisted far enough in Auror training to learn that. And anyway, the point was that Nott wasn’t Marked and had never said anything in Harry’s hearing that sounded like a push for blood purity. “And he saved my life when we were fighting Lestrange. I got distracted and Lestrange took me down. I would have died if it wasn’t for him.”

Ron turned a sickly green. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me, too.”

Ron gave him a quick smile, which dissolved into a kind of helpless sadness. He gestured with one hand. “How did we get here, mate? Years ago, I thought it was all set. You and I and Hermione would be best friends until the day we died, and Hermione and I would get married, and you and Ginny were going to get married. What happened?”

Harry hesitated. Then he said, “I can tell you that from my perspective, but you aren’t going to like the answers.”

“I want to know.”

Ron was leaning forwards as intently as he ever had over a chessboard, and Harry nodded slowly. “Okay. Ginny and I didn’t really get back together until halfway through that repeated year at Hogwarts, remember? And then we broke up a few more times. I didn’t know it then, but that was the beginning of the end.

“Ginny finally told me that she couldn’t be with someone who had as much darkness and guilt and terrible memories as I did. She had her own. And she wanted someone who had been—with her during that year at Hogwarts, the one when she had to rebel against Snape and the rest of them.” Harry felt a sharp pulse at the name. He would never have uncomplicated feelings about Severus Snape. “I thought that was fair.

“We broke up, and I finished my Auror training, and became an Auror. And I really did try to follow the rules, the laws. Except it kept almost getting me killed. Because no one told the Dark wizards and witches I fought that they should follow the rules.”

“But your partners didn’t get hurt so often,” Ron interrupted. “I thought it was just poor planning that you kept going into hospital.”

Harry snorted. “No. It was because I worked with cowards who hung back and let me take the lead. Or even—some of them weren’t cowards, but they thought I should take the lead because that’s what Harry Potter does. They were blinded by their own hero-worship of me. Hell, Cornfoot didn’t defend me the second time I got cursed, and he testified under Veritaserum that it really was because he thought I could handle it. They thought I could handle anything.

“I couldn’t, Ron. And I realized that I would never be able to live up to their picture of me no matter what I did. Going to hospital was failing them. Getting killed would have been failing them. Killing people and living myself was failing them. Because they wanted a fairy tale, and I wasn’t.

“So I decided that I might as well do what made me feel safe and kept me alive. Live for myself.”

Ron was quiet for long moments, staring at the last of his food. Then he looked up, his face set in sharp lines.

“You don’t think that you’re driving yourself further away from yourself?”

“Why would I think that?”

Ron swallowed. “I—you’re not like the boy I knew.”

“Children grow up, Ron,” Harry said quietly, and put some Sickles down on the table to pay for his pie. “It’s better than the alternative.”

*

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Nott, if I could speak with you a moment?”

Theo was on the alert even before he turned around. He recognized Kingsley Shacklebolt’s voice, of course, but he had never once come into the Hit Wizard Department in the bowels of the Ministry in all the time that Theo had been here.

Potter was alert next to him, balanced in a way that Theo knew meant violence. He wondered how many other people could say they knew that much about Potter. The realization that it probably wasn’t many calmed him down a little.

“Minister.”

Shacklebolt halted half a corridor’s length away from them and nodded shortly to Theo, but his attention was fixed on Potter. Of course. Theo reminded himself that Potter thought Theo was a great wizard, and it didn’t matter how much other people disregarded him.

Even if it sort of did.

“Harry, Lucius Malfoy has some questions for you about his cousin’s death.”

“He’ll find everything he needs to know in my report.”

“He—he says that you can’t possibly have known she was using the Imperius the way you claimed she was, let alone that she was addicted to it.”

“He’ll find everything he needs,” Potter said, his voice lilting a little, “in my report.”

Theo found himself shifting without meaning to, getting in between Shacklebolt and his partner. The Minister stared at him. Potter put a hand on Theo’s shoulder and let it rest there for a moment, too gentle to be a warning.

“Mr. Potter.”

“Hit Wizard Potter, Minister, if you might. I think you should use a title I earned.”

Shacklebolt took a slow, deep breath that Theo recognized from his father’s own moods when he was trying to control his anger. “Hit Wizard Potter,” the Minister said, audibly grinding his teeth. “You need to answer Mr. Malfoy’s questions.”

“Why? I’m no longer an Auror, bound to testify in front of the Wizengamot. Or do you want them to start asking questions about the deaths that we cause on your orders?”

Shacklebolt closed his eyes for a moment. Theo watched him with vague contempt. From everything he knew, Shacklebolt had been a good Auror and was a good person most of the time. He even seemed to be a mostly good Minister. But if he lacked the courage to face up to the deaths he’d ordered, then Theo owed him no respect.

“Those were not always my decision, Hit Wizard Potter.”

“They were the Wizengamot’s decision,” Theo said, tiring of this. “To my information, Lucius Malfoy sits on the Wizengamot, doesn’t he, Minister?”

One of Shacklebolt’s eyebrows twitched. “Yes, Hit Wizard Nott, you’re correct.”

“So he ought to have all the information he needs about both Aurors’ reports and Hit Wizard decisions,” Theo said softly, smiling. “Don’t pretend that he’s never sent Hit Wizards after former fellow Death Eaters who had become embarrassments. He doesn’t need to question Harry.”

He felt Potter jump behind him, probably at the use of the first name. But Theo intended for them to present a united front to Shacklebolt, and that meant, among other things, that it would look strange and distant for them to use solely last names.

“He could become a political problem that neither of you could handle,” said Shacklebolt, his voice heavy with warning. “You think that you’re beyond the reach of politics down here, Hit Wizard, but you’re not.”

“I am indeed Nott. Thank you for remembering, sir.”

Shacklebolt stared at him, but the best thing was Potter’s tiny choked noise from behind him. Theo smiled and tried to convey the smile with his shoulders, so that Potter could share in it, too.

“I can’t block his inquires forever,” said Shacklebolt

“I wouldn’t expect you to, sir.”

“So you can speak for yourself instead of hiding behind Nott, Hit Wizard Potter?”

“I wasn’t hiding behind him, sir. I stand with him, always.”

Theo would have liked to close his eyes and savor the warmth that spread through him at that statement, but he wasn’t able to, not without revealing more than he should. So he watched Shacklebolt with a blank face, and the Minister finally nodded, sighed, and turned away. He probably thought that he had done his part in warning them, and didn’t want anything more to do with the matter.

Potter moved forwards the moment Shacklebolt was gone, his palm spreading out flat against Theo’s back. “Thank you.”

Theo turned towards him, a little curious. “Defenders are that rare in your life, Potter?”

“In the last few years? Yeah.” Potter’s too-bright eyes searched Theo’s. “And it’s Harry, or did you intend to take that back?”

Theo inclined his head slowly. He had thought Potter would understand the necessity of Theo speaking his first name in front of someone else, but might also think it was too presumptuous to continue in private. “If you are inclined to gift it to me…”

“I am. Not every day I get my name spoken by a great wizard.”

Theo shivered, feeling as if someone was blowing warm air down his neck. “Then you should call me Theo.”

Harry gave him a small smile, and they kept walking towards the office. Theo excused himself to use the loo a few moments later.

He did need to use the loo, but he also leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, letting himself bask in the warmth the way he hadn’t been able to.

I stand with him, always.

Harry Potter wasn’t only a great Hit Wizard in the way he killed.

*

Harry did take Kingsley’s word to heart, and he knew that he would probably have to handle the problem of Lucius Malfoy without killing the bastard. Unless he actively attacked Harry or Theo. Then all the protections he currently had would melt away.

But he hadn’t thought the attack would come the way it did.

When he got to the office that morning, he noticed that Theo was buried in a towering stack of parchment, but he didn’t think much of it. They always had files, everything from compilations of rumors about Dark wizards being back in the country from abroad to actual reports on the people they were assigned to hunt.

“Anything interesting this morning?” Harry asked, hanging up his Hit Wizard robes on a hook. He was feeling a bit itchy, a bit constrained in his shoulders and back, and the robes really had nothing to do with it. It was nearly a month since Lestrange’s death, and he wanted to be hunting again.

“More on the Tessa Malfoy case.”

Theo’s voice was slow, abstracted. Harry turned around slowly. If Theo was going to get upset at him because he had looked up the Malfoy case and had found something he hadn’t expected…

Well, of course there were details that Harry hadn’t shared, but everything he had said was the truth. It jolted him, more than he’d realized it might, to think that Theo could turn on him the way other people had.

He shrugged and rolled his shoulders. “What about the Tessa Malfoy case?”

Theo put down a piece of parchment and turned around to give Harry a cold smile. “Just that there were a few things about it that you never told me. You told me she was casting the Imperius since she was thirteen, but that was a lie, right? She didn’t start anywhere near that young. She wasn’t addicted to it. That’s a guess you made. So you didn’t actually have damaging information to release about her. You just pretended you did to get Lucius to back off.”

The mistake was in Theo turning to face him. He could have kept his head down while he spoke and Harry might never have known, might not have realized that it was that different from Theo’s usual mannerisms. Harry valued Theo highly, but they didn’t know each other that well yet.

But Theo was looking at him, and although it was subtle, Harry had been trained to look for signs of that slight glaze in his eyes.

Harry snapped his wand out right away. Theo was slow to get his own out, which gave enough time for Harry to him with the most powerful Finite Incantatem he could cast.

Theo sagged forwards and rubbed his forehead, swearing softly. “I—my head hurts—what the hell happened?”

“Imperius,” Harry snapped, and turned towards the office door. “I am going to tear Lucius Malfoy’s heart out.”

Theo got in between him and the door before Harry could storm through it. Of course, when he was himself, he was more than fast enough to do things like that. Theo spread out his arms to rest his fingertips on the doorframe and said softly, “Harry.”

“Get out of my way, Theo.”

This close, he could see it when Theo’s pulse quickened, when those grey eyes he thought of as incredibly clear widened. But Theo said only, “You don’t have the proof that it was him, and if you kill him without the sanction of the Ministry, you really would go to Azkaban.”

“Did I say that I was going to make it look like an unnatural death?”

Theo shuddered a little with something Harry didn’t think was cold or fear, but couldn’t identify before Theo said, “It’s hard to think of how tearing his heart out could be natural.”

“I wasn’t going to make that literal. Even though I want to. He had no right to mess with your mind. My partner’s mind.”

Theo’s expression shifted quickly several times, like a sky with clouds chasing across it. Then he took a deep breath and said, “Harry, listen to me. I don’t doubt that you’re right this was Malfoy’s doing, but—listen to me.”

Harry stopped trying to step past Theo’s outstretched arms and frowned at him. “Okay. But you need to say something quick and convincing, because I still want to go after him.” It would soothe the itchiness boiling through him even better than being able to kill Rabastan Lestrange over again would have.

“Think how much more satisfying it will be to humiliate him.”

Harry felt his eyes widen, before he smiled at Theo. “You’re right, that’s pretty good incentive.”

*

Theo shuddered a little as the weight of Harry’s gaze rested on him. He needed to do something about his reactions, he thought. About his tendency to almost melt when Harry defended him. About the way that he had reacted when Harry had said he stood with Theo in front of Shacklebolt.

About the way that he had wanked to the thought of Harry’s eyes and hands a few nights ago.

But it was obvious that he wouldn’t be doing it yet, so he simply nodded briskly. “I was at Malfoy Manor a fair few times when I was a kid. Draco didn’t think that many people were his equals, but I was one. They’ve probably changed the wards a bit since then, but not enough to obviate my knowledge. They couldn’t, without digging up the grounds of the entire Manor.”

“Which they would never do,” Harry finished, starting to smile.

Theo shook his head. “Those flowers are Narcissa’s pride and joy, and the peacocks are Lucius’s. We break in through their wards. We question Lucius and make sure that we know the full extent of his plans, and that this wasn’t about more than trying for revenge on you. And then we humiliate him.”

“How?”

“Consider how proud Lucius Malfoy is,” Theo said softly. He wanted to lead Harry a little closer to this than he was right now, because otherwise, he thought there was the chance Harry might not agree, for all his “flexible morals.” “What would humiliate him the most of all?”

“A public scandal, I suppose. Or a public embarrassment.”

Theo nodded. “For a few years, I thought Draco might provide that, but I had to give up hope of him.” Draco had unexpectedly settled down, probably because he had married Astoria Greengrass, someone who was above him in every single way. “If Lucius got caught openly attacking you, he might even go to Azkaban. Or at least receive house arrest.”

“You want to get him angry enough to do that? Can we predict it would have the result we’d want? He already tried to Imperius you. I won’t risk your life.”

Theo was afraid that his eyelashes visibly fluttered, but he couldn’t do anything about that. He pushed on determinedly. “No. I want you to use the Imperius on him.” It seemed it would have to be the blunt approach after all.

He looked up to see Harry’s eyes widening. “Or is that one of the lines you won’t cross? Because I’ll cast the curse, if you don’t want to. But I want him to suffer. Like I did.”

It had been like swimming underwater and not being able to surface, hearing the words spoken by his own mouth, feeling the motions made by his own body, and knowing he couldn’t stop them. Theo was determined that Lucius Malfoy would go through at least a few moments of that, before the end.

*

He really gives no fucks.

And Harry felt his eagerness surge to life, rising to meet Theo’s. No, he had no problem with doing that, not against an enemy. He had used the Imperius during the war. He hadn’t used it since, but protecting Theo felt as important as being able to retrieve one of the Horcruxes.

When did he become the center of my world?

But Harry knew the answer to that. When Theo had defended him, first to Hermione, and then to Kingsley. When he had accepted Harry as he was and embraced his battle prowess wholeheartedly. When he had saved Harry’s life, instead of hanging back and expecting Harry to save his.

“Yes,” Harry said, feeling a thickness in his mouth, as if his tongue had swollen large enough to hang past his lips. “Yes, let’s do that.”

Theo gave him a smile of dark victory, and Harry willed his responsive erection down. He would have to do something about that.

But later. After making Lucius Malfoy suffer for touching Theo.

He’ll regret that.