Part Thirteen of 'Their Phoenix'
Jun. 19th, 2009 03:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lomonaaerenThank you again for all the reviews!
The bond sat in the forefront of Harry’s thoughts like a boulder and wouldn’t let him ignore it. It was pick the stupid thing up or go around it.
And exactly how is the bond stupid? Harry found himself thinking in Severus’s voice. You have hardly been able to put it to any intelligence test.
Harry snorted and then sighed. He wondered for a moment whether Severus and Draco would be able to feel what he was doing, but pushed the worry away. First of all, he knew—he had to know—that their default state wasn’t one of constantly seeking to hurt him with his emotions, or he wouldn’t be able to live with this at all.
Second, they could feel individual emotions, but they couldn’t read his thoughts, and so they weren’t necessarily going to know why he was feeling bored or hungry or angry. Let them think whatever they wanted. For the moment, Harry would make the reasonable assumption that they weren’t about to intrude, not after the way that Severus had left yesterday.
So Harry made himself face the bond, and frown at it, and think about it.
He was tired of acting the way he had. He’d either been ignoring the bond entirely since the beginning, or hauling on it like a lifeline, or feeling it draped around his shoulders like a chain. He didn’t want to anymore.
He focused on that and hammered the words into his brain: he didn’t want to anymore.
This bond was something he would have to live with for the rest of his life. He could act like a pouting, whinging child every time he got reminded of its existence, or he could face it here and now and decide what he wanted from it.
I want to have a good relationship with my bondmates. I want to trust them. I want to feel relaxed around them. I want to feel friendship for them, and get friendship from them.
And not something more? The question wasn’t quite in Draco’s voice, but Harry had the feeling that it would have been if he’d felt like admitting Draco’s voice into his brain at the moment.
Harry clenched his hands behind his head. The memory of the immense wanting he’d felt with the bonds open all the way chafed at him, suggesting some impossible curling, colorful dream that broke apart into mere light when he woke up. He didn’t know how to answer the question, because he wanted to give his bondmates what they needed, but he was still cautious about that emotion, and how it might take over his life.
His sheer fear told him something else, and he edged up on this thought like someone creeping past the boulder.
I want to live my own life, too. I don’t want the bond to consume me. Just like I wanted Draco to have his interests in Potions and Dark Arts, and Severus to have an interest in brewing so they didn’t just focus on me, I don’t want to simply focus on them, either. I want to be able to be selfish sometimes. I want to be able to not have them in my bed if I decide I don’t want to. I want to be able to refuse some of their demands. I want to be independent. If I wasn’t going to serve the Ministry blindly, why in the world should I serve the bond blindly?
He felt a faint guilt at the thought, but he struggled to banish it. Hadn’t he told Huxley that he wanted his own life? Hadn’t he said that he’d made enough sacrifices, and the wizarding world could just give him up as its hero?
He didn’t have to make extraordinary sacrifices because of the bond, either. Just the ordinary, everyday compromises that everyone needed to make when they were living with other people. He played chess with Ron even though he knew he would always lose. He listened to Hermione when she lectured and tried not to show his boredom too obviously. He wanted to keep seeing the Weasleys even though it would be awkward to be in the same room with Ginny. He met those demands without thinking about them, without resenting them or wanting to include them in the list of sacrifices that he rejected, because Ron and Hermione and the Weasleys were his friends.
I can do the same thing with Draco and Severus—when I need to. But I don’t need to give everything up for them any more than they need to give up everything for me.
I can have that normal life that I used to talk about. If I want it. If I’m willing to fight for it instead of lie back and whine that it should have happened to me instead of what did happen. Some things aren’t fair, and some things nobody has a cure for.
Harry sucked in enough air that he felt as if he were about to float off the bed, and then let it out again. When he opened his eyes, he felt good enough to smile cautiously at the ceiling.
If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s fight.
He would show Draco and Severus that they didn’t have to spend the rest of their lives laboring to heal him or give him potions or feel their way among jagged psychological wounds.
After all, they probably have other things that they’d like to do sometimes.
*
Draco stuck his head cautiously into the sitting room where Harry had been sitting with Granger for the last half-hour. Granger had just left. Harry was leaning back on the couch with one arm around his stomach. Draco wondered if that was a good sign or not.
Not much pain was flowing through the bond, and Harry hadn’t done something stupid like sit on a hard chair or try not to hold his stomach. Therefore, Draco decided cautiously that this was a good sign.
“Come in, Draco.”
Draco jumped, and wondered for a moment how Harry could know it was him and not Severus when he didn’t have the bonds open the other way. Then he remembered that there was such a thing as recognizing someone’s footsteps or breathing, and cleared his throat to relieve his embarrassment as he entered the sitting room.
Harry showed no sign of rising from the couch, so Draco walked around in front of him. Harry looked at him evenly. Draco stared back a little while and then dropped his eyes. The apologies he had practiced in his mind would probably sound stupid when he tried to speak them aloud, so he didn’t try.
“Severus thinks you got angry at me because you’re still angry about things that happened at Hogwarts,” Harry said suddenly. “Like me winning all those Quidditch matches between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Is that true?”
Draco had to stare at him then, because that was just too ridiculous. “What does he know about it? Of course not! I was angry at you because I could see you getting weaker and weaker while Swanfair was here, and it was hard to keep my temper under control but I had to because she couldn’t see us arguing, and then everything just burst out at once when she left. It wouldn’t have if you went to bed and took the bloody potions like you were supposed to.”
“Ah,” Harry said. “So that’s why you kept gaping and sighing and making other noises while she was here.”
“I did not!” Draco knew that his pretense of calm and stoicism in front of Swanfair yesterday had not been one of his best performances, but he hadn’t done so badly as all that.
“Yes, you did,” Harry said mercilessly. “I think you were far too obvious for someone with all the experience that you keep telling me Swanfair has. So the next time we see her, we should present a united front, and then maybe she won’t think that you’re completely hopeless.”
Draco spluttered, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Harry took advantage of his silence to lean forwards and pin him with a stare that was absolutely not fair, because he must have picked it up from Severus.
“I want to show her that we’re a force for strength,” Harry said. “All three of us, not just me. I want you and Severus involved in this political party we’ll be making from the beginning. That means that you shouldn’t be angry at me and letting the anger out early. I’m going to heal as fast as I can now, and lie down when I need to, and take potions when I need to. In return, I expect you to stop acting stupid.”
Draco stared at him with his mouth open. Harry raised one eyebrow.
“I sent Hermione away because I was starting to feel tired. I’m going to go rest now, the way that you and Severus were telling me I should have all along. I want you to help me up the stairs, or I’ll fall over before I get to my bedroom.” And he commandingly extended one arm.
Draco did it out of sheer astonishment. Harry leaned on him heavily, and panted, so Draco had to pay close attention to his feet and his weight and not tripping as they hop-walked up the stairs. By the time they got to Harry’s room, he felt as exhausted as he could feel Harry did, through the bond, though some of that was probably reflected exhaustion. Harry lay down in the middle of the bed and yawned, then commanded Draco to fluff his pillows and help him drag the blankets over himself. Draco did, still without the words he needed to say what he thought of this.
Probably because I don’t really know what I think of this.
He stepped back and blinked at Harry. Harry gave him a sweet smile and closed his eyes, sighing a little.
“Could you tell Severus that I need the pain potion that’s green and smells like mint?” he murmured. Draco opened his mouth to say that Harry probably only wanted that one because it tasted the best, but Harry went on, “He said that it was best for the dull, throbbing, aching pains like the ones I have now, and they’re low in my stomach, which the potion is also good for.”
Amazing. He did listen. Draco told himself not to be petty when he had the thought, but he did wonder when Harry’s listening had started. Severus had given that potion, the Emerald Healer, to Harry yesterday, and he would have given his standard speech about the potion’s purpose and dangers, so Harry could have heard then.
“There,” Harry said, when Draco started moving towards the door. “I forgive you now, because you do want to help me.” The bond shook and shivered with a silvery sheen like light on aspen leaves. Draco knew Harry would be smiling if he looked over his shoulder, but he didn’t see the need to do that right now. “As long as you think about our bargain that you don’t act stupid in front of Swanfair again.”
As much as Draco wanted to say something, it was difficult to disagree. He had acted stupid in front of Swanfair—Severus had taken him to task about that after the enchantment from the bond being open began to wear off—and he had done something to Harry that he was sorry for. Helping Harry, which he wanted to do anyway and which showed that Harry had acquired something resembling common sense, was much better than stammering out one of the awkward apologies that he had practiced.
He shut the door quietly behind him, and the light shimmering through the bond turned to the soft pink color of approval. Draco went down the stairs carefully, due to all the new thoughts whirling through his head.
*
Granger had obviously given Harry some good ideas. He came down to discuss them with Severus after he’d spent some time resting in bed from a dose of the Emerald Healer. Severus had a notion that he would when the bond’s firefly dreams coalesced into glittering balls of light and started to circle each other, and began to brew a pot of tea. By the time Harry felt his way cautiously down the stairs, the tea was ready and Draco had made himself scarce, on Severus’s orders. Harry and Draco had had their confrontation alone that morning. Severus thought it was rather important to see how Harry handled him when they were alone.
Harry paused in the entrance to the kitchen, his head lifted like a deer scenting danger. “Where’s Draco?” he asked.
“Learning how to make a potion he almost destroyed the lab with last week,” Severus said, which happened to be the truth. He pulled out a chair for Harry, and waited to see what would happen next.
Harry looked thoughtfully back and forth between the chair and Severus. Then he nodded and sat down, pulling himself in closer to the table. He didn’t even sniff the tea for a medicinal potion before he drank it.
“Hermione told me that Swanfair has a reputation for survival at all times, and victory most of the time,” Harry began. “She thinks it’s worthwhile to ally with her, as long as we watch out for mind-controlling spells and potions like milder version of the Imperius Curse. That’s apparently what she uses to make some of her allies do what she wants.”
Severus snorted at the thought of someone trying to use such magic on a triad with a Potions master and Legilimens in it, as well as someone with a natural resistance to the Imperius Curse. Of course, the second part wasn’t very widespread knowledge, so Swanfair might try anyway. “We will watch for that,” he reassured Harry.
“Good.” Harry sipped at the tea again. “Swanfair told us the truth yesterday, so far as it went. She’s pretty nakedly interested in power. So long as we let her have a hefty part in the politics and keep her from using Dark Arts on other people or us, then Hermione thinks we can trust her. The way you would trust a dangerous dog on a chain, to quote Hermione.”
“Yes, I am familiar with the type.” Severus raised an eyebrow. “Did she have time to suggest any particular strategies?”
“Yeah.” Harry smiled grimly. “Quite the battle’s been going on the last few days, I reckon, with a lot of the people in Hogsmeade suddenly discovering their courage. They’re deluging the Minister with requests that Huxley be arrested. And once Skeeter reported my speech—she was probably nearby in the form of a beetle when I made it—then other people started becoming sympathetic to us, too. Most of them really didn’t know that she’d tried to murder me.”
“Or so it seems,” Severus had to point out.
Harry’s shrug said that he was uninterested in the distinction. “So Hermione suggested that I make an official announcement thanking everyone for their support and also calling for Huxley’s arrest.”
Severus went still. He could see the reason behind Granger’s thinking. Harry would give the public what they wanted and intensify his image as someone unjustly persecuted who nevertheless asked only for the legal remedy that he deserved.
On the other hand, nothing was likelier to make an enemy of Shacklebolt, who seemed so reluctant to arrest Huxley.
“Do you believe that Shacklebolt will accept this?” he asked. “The spell I put on him to give us some peace will not stand up to a determined assault on it, and forcing him to take notice of a demand for Huxley’s arrest is such an assault.”
“I don’t care,” Harry said abruptly, and the bond flexed in a jagged way that told Severus this was something he had argued with himself over more than once. “I don’t care as much as I did about not hurting him or making him an enemy. He decided I was an enemy even though I’d done nothing, just because he doesn’t like you. I think it would be best if I show him that I’m not afraid of him.”
Severus touched the tips of his fingers together and thought about that. It was the straightforward tactic that a Gryffindor would favor. It was political, the kind of measure that Swanfair would advise them to take. And if Granger was right about the public’s temper concerning Harry at the moment, then it was probably the best thing they could do to take advantage of that temper.
Severus still wanted an extra assurance.
“There is a potion I can brew that will give the Minister something else to think about,” he said. “It involves no illegal ingredients or Dark Arts in the brewing. Will you permit me to prepare it?”
Harry lifted his head in surprise, as though someone had reached out and flicked their knuckles against the back of his skull. Severus concealed his smirk with an effort and watched in pleasure. Asking for permission and abiding by a negative answer—as he was willing to do if Harry refused—ought to reassure Harry that he still had a measure of control over the bond.
“What does it do?” Harry asked warily, after he had considered Severus from several angles and seemed to see nothing false in what he was promising.
“It gives the drinker a large stomach ulcer,” Severus answered promptly, “one that fluctuates. It responds to magical Healing some of the time, and at others will not trouble the carrier at all. But it flares up irregularly and with great pain, which means the drinker is…often distracted.”
Harry’s eyes widened a little. “You really don’t like Kingsley, do you?”
“Given that he tried to unpick the bond and endangered us all in multiple other ways?” Severus heard his voice grow brittle, the way it often did when he was struggling to control his emotions. “No. I do not. And given that he permitted a Gut Chewing Curse to be used on you, I thought an ulcer in the stomach would be just repayment.”
Harry gnawed his lip fiercely. “But if it flares up every time he pays attention to us, then he’s sure to notice.”
Severus kept his voice patient with an effort. If there was anything he still wanted to change in Harry, it would be to give him a keenness and length of attention that Draco had always had. “That is why it will flare up on an irregular schedule. He may well suspect where it came from, but he could never prove it. The ulcer looks like a naturally caused one to any spells.”
Harry nodded. “All right,” he said. “I do want to punish him. I can’t help that.” He glared at Severus a moment later, as though he assumed Severus would have a problem with this. The bond had turned throbbing and dark like an old wound.
“So do I,” Severus said, and glanced towards the door of the lab. “And so does Draco. The potion he is working on right now is similar to the one I will brew for Shacklebolt. He will be delighted to help with it—”
A small explosion shook the house, and greasy-looking smoke rolled out from beneath the door of the potions lab. Harry blinked.
“As soon as he manages to master this one,” Severus finished with a sigh, and then faced Harry. “In the meantime, you make the public announcement and tell us when you want us to appear in public beside you. Draco and I will work on the potion and on a way to make sure that Shacklebolt, and no one else, drinks it.”
Harry gave him a shark’s grin and stood up. “Good enough.” He hesitated, then added, “I think I need more of the potion that tastes like dirty socks.”
It was as close as he would come at the moment to an admission that he still felt some pain, and Severus was wise enough not to push for more. He nodded. “The Stomach Relaxer,” he said. “I shall fetch it.”
Harry smiled at him suddenly, and the bond turned shimmering and silvery-green, the way it had earlier when Harry and Draco had had their “talk.” “Thank you,” he said. “I—” Then he seemed to think better of whatever he’d been about to say, and shrugged. “Thank you.”
Severus nodded again. He could feel the leap of his own impatience, wanting to push, wanting to know what else Harry would have said if he felt absolutely free, but he also felt a contrary desire: one to leave Harry to himself, give him his freedom to be silent and avoid confrontations, and see what would happen.
This bond has proceeded by confrontations rather than otherwise so far, like forcing a plant to bloom outside its natural season. I will enjoy seeing what it produces when left to flower on its own.
*
“Thank you, Headmistress,” Harry said, with a little nod to McGonagall.
“Hogwarts has been your home,” McGonagall said, smiling at him with a force that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “And it is not far from your home as it stands now. How could I do otherwise than volunteer it?”
Harry smiled at her, because by now he had plenty of experience of things that people could do other than oblige him, and turned to face the crowd of reporters.
They were massed on the grounds of Hogwarts around the lake, buzzing with excitement. Skeeter was there, of course, but Harry had also asked Hermione for a list of names and addresses for as many reporters as she could find, and he’d written thirty or so owls himself. And then the ones he hadn’t invited would have heard from the ones who did, so by now there was a large number.
Harry strode towards them, checking himself cautiously as he went for some sign of pain in his gut. But it was a fortnight now since Huxley had cursed him, and Severus and Draco were both right about how much better a wound like that healed with regular rest and potions. What made him more nervous than anything else at the moment was the fact that they were back at the house in Hogsmeade and he was here by himself.
Stop it, he told himself as he came to a stop about a hundred feet from the reporters and touched his wand to his throat to cast the Sonorus Charm. You know by now that you would feel it if anything happened to them. And you do need to start appearing on your own some of the time, so that they don’t think you’re hiding behind Severus and Draco.
He lifted his head and surveyed the crowd, keeping his expression aloof and his eyes distant. The chatter gradually quieted, and then Harry had everyone staring at him expectantly, quills poised above parchment.
“Thank you for coming,” he said. “I wished to make a public statement about what has happened to me and the outrageous way in which the Ministry has ignored it.”
That caused an immediate scramble of the quills. Harry heard some people trying to shout questions from the back, but the more experienced ones in front were waiting breathlessly for more words from his mouth. Harry serenely ignored the questions, therefore, and went on with his announcement.
“Two weeks ago, I was attacked in Hogsmeade, in front of my own home, by a witch known as Griselda Huxley,” he said. A few people gasped, and he nodded. “Yes, I thought you would be familiar with her. I know she’s a war heroine, and that kept me from coming forwards. I hoped there would be a way to reconcile with her, to keep my admiration for her actions in the forefront of my mind rather than my fury and frustration.”
That was a lie, of course, since he’d had no idea who Huxley was when she first attacked him and no reason to think that she wouldn’t be arrested right away, but the reporters ate it up. Harry rubbed at his face with one hand and wondered when lying had become so easy. Of course, the Auror training he’d received at keeping his face stern during interrogations might have helped. An expression of sternness wasn’t so far from an expression of sadness.
“She used the Gut Chewing Curse on me.” Harry pulled his shirt up dramatically so that he could show the red scar curling across his skin. It had been Draco’s idea to hold off on healing the scar for a time, so that he could make a statement like this. From the way some reporters practically tripped over themselves dragging out cameras, Harry thought that Draco had more than redeemed himself for anything stupid he might have done during the interview with Swanfair. “A week ago, she came to my home and tried to attack the wards again. She accused me of being in conspiracy with Voldemort.”
Given how half the crowd still flinched at the name, Harry knew that would make an impact. He spent a moment studying them, the cloud of dark robes against the silver snow, creating his own mental picture.
“The Minister has refused to arrest her,” Harry said. “I am here to plead that he do so. She may be a heroine, but Huxley is dangerous. She will attack not only people the Ministry has pardoned but also those whose only crime was using accidental magic to save the world.”
He did his very best to look pathetic and strong at the same time, which Hermione had advised him he should do. He didn’t know if it worked, but more cameras snapped pictures.
“Perhaps Huxley considers her hatred of me justified,” Harry continued softly, throwing as much sadness into his voice as he could. “But I don’t think it is, and I want to be able to live in peace, free of persecution. Since I’ve been stripped of my career and my childhood and my friendship with the Minister, is that so much to ask?” This time he tried for wistful, and again the cameras flashed.
He took a few questions then, but only the ones that he could answer easily, such as why it had taken him so long to heal of the Gut Chewing Curse and how he felt knowing Huxley was still free. It was easy enough to pretend that he didn’t hear the ones that only wanted to stir up political trouble, since everyone was shouting their questions at once.
After five minutes of that, Harry raised one hand and turned back in the direction of Hogwarts. The reporters who tried to rush after him and ask something else slammed into the invisible barrier that McGonagall had altered the wards yesterday to raise. It wouldn’t hurt them, she’d told Harry, but it would give them a good surprise, and reporters should have those every so often.
“I think that went well,” said McGonagall, who looked full of sympathetic outrage when Harry reached her. “I assume you’re going to wish to return home, Mr. Potter?”
Harry yawned and nodded. He no longer tired as easily as he did when he was taking more than three pain potions a day, but he didn’t want to push it. For the sake of his healing, and the image he had presented to the reporters of someone who had mostly recovered from Huxley’s curse—
And for the sake of Draco and Severus, because he knew they would worry over him.
A white owl soared down from the sky and landed on his arm. Harry winced a little as the claws dug into him, but he saw the Swanfair seal on the letter, and thought it was better to deal with it now than later. Swanfair had agreed to the tactic of making the public statement when Harry warned her about it; that didn’t mean she was going to accept it in complete quiet.
The letter said, I am impressed by your control of your face and voice. I thought I was dealing with a politically naïve teenager, and I would imagine that Minister Shacklebolt has considered such a thing as well. Perhaps having you as leader of our political party—in truth, and not as a figurehead—will be a wise decision to make after all.
Harry refused to give Swanfair the satisfaction of looking around, though he knew she must have been nearby to see his expressions and then to send him the owl so promptly. He tucked the letter in his robe and gave the hovering McGonagall a wry smile. “Many people have opinions,” he said. He didn’t want to reveal the alliance with Swanfair yet, since he knew McGonagall had views about people who used Dark Arts.
“Yes, they do.” McGonagall nodded briskly. “And one of mine is that you should have an escort home.” She blurred, and a moment later a tabby cat was sitting at Harry’s feet, staring up at him with her tail twitching.
Harry thought about arguing, but shook his head. McGonagall had felt tormented that she couldn’t do more to help him during the Horcrux hunt, he knew, and then hurt when he hadn’t returned for his NEWTS. Besides, people were less likely to think a cat was a threat, which meant they would have the advantage of surprise if someone attacked him on the way home.
As I must be prepared for.
The tabby meowed at him, and Harry realized she had already started trotting in the direction of Hogsmeade. He followed, glad when they reached the front door without incident.
*
“Bloody potion!” Draco leaped back from the vial as it foamed over again, bright silver curls of liquid splattering on Severus’s table and dissolving part of the wood. Draco aimed his wand to try to clean it up, and then the vial exploded, scattering glass and potion in every direction. At least his raised wand meant that he could lift a shield without much trouble. He was steadily cursing as he did it.
“Such language, Draco.”
Draco whipped around to see Severus standing in the doorway of the potions lab behind him. His anger was still sharp and fresh enough that he snapped back instead of cowering before Severus’s sarcasm the way he would ordinarily have when he messed up a potion this badly. “I’ve tried, and tried, and tried! The last two times, it’s been perfect but it foams over when I transfer it from the cauldron to the vial! And I don’t know why, and I’ve looked through the books, and—”
Severus at once shut the door behind him, strode across the room, and picked up the book with the original potions recipe, which Draco hadn’t looked at since he started to brew. Draco glared at his back. “I know every single line in there,” he called. “I’ve memorized the damn thing.”
“Including,” Severus asked, not looking up from the book, “that the potion will foam over when placed in contact with glass?”
Draco tried not to scream. It wasn’t the potion’s fault after all, it was his, and it was a simple, silly, childish mistake that anyone could have made. But he wasn’t just anyone, and he had been studying potions too long to let something like this happen to him. He collapsed onto a chair Severus had standing ready for when potions took hours to brew and had to be watched carefully, his head in his hands.
“Draco.” Severus’s voice was gentle this time, though Draco knew many people who did not know him would still have called it harsh. It had to do with a rounding of the words, a lowering of the tone, rather than any single inflection. Severus’s hand slid around the back of his neck, fingers feathering wide as he caressed Draco’s shoulders. “What frustrates you so much about this? You have completed more difficult potions, and struggled with them before you completed them.”
“I shouldn’t be having this much trouble,” Draco whispered, and rubbed his face with his hands. “Ten days on the same potion. It’s madness.”
“It is not,” Severus said calmly. “It is merely that you have let your desire to finish run ahead of your desire to do well. Or you have come to think that the brilliance of your work depends on speed and no other consideration. Which is it?”
Draco held his breath so that he could force himself to concentrate on something other than his intense frustration. It was a tactic Severus had taught him as they sat in prison awaiting their trials as Death Eaters. It worked this time, too, and he began to consider the difficult question, which also wasn’t unprecedented; Severus had used logical puzzles to keep him distracted from consideration of their fate.
“I’ve equated brilliance with speed,” he said at last.
Severus’s hand did not move away from his soft stroking of Draco’s neck, though his voice became harder. “And why?”
“Because—” Draco swallowed, but the object of his resentment was out of the house, making a speech in front of reporters, so Draco thought he could safely confess. “Because I wanted to impress Harry.”
“Tell me why.” Severus’s voice was sharper still. His fingernails dug into Draco’s skin.
“Because there are so many things he’s better at than me.” Draco didn’t care if he sounded like he was whinging; it was worth it to purge these silent, festering wounds at last. “And I don’t think he’s completely forgiven me for arguing with him. I wanted—I wanted him to look at me with admiration again, the way he did when I told him that I was going to combine Potions and Dark Arts. I want that.” His voice dropped, and he couldn’t look Severus in the eye on the last words. “I want him.”
“So do I,” Severus said. “But we shall simply have to wait, that is all. And if he never comes to us—”
“He has to!” Draco flung his head back and stared at Severus, not comprehending how he could be this quiet about it. “Didn’t you feel what it was like when the bonds were fully open? Do you really want to never feel that again?”
Severus raised both his eyebrows, a sharp remonstrance with him. “That does not require him to fall in love with us,” he said. “There is no sexual compulsion to the bond.”
“But I want him to.” Draco looked away and knew he was pouting, but he couldn’t help it, could he? Harry and Severus had been quietly friendly for the last week, exactly as if Severus had never stolen a kiss from him. Meanwhile, Draco had been giving Harry as many potions and speaking as many gentle words and advising him as much about the politics, but he still got fewer smiles and cooler nods.
Severus gripped his shoulders but disdained to grip his chin, so Draco eventually had to face him on his own. When he did, he caught his breath. Severus’s eyes were soft.
“You have someone here who admires you,” Severus murmured. “Someone who knows your ability to endure, to live through experiences that would have crushed many far older than you.” He kissed Draco’s forehead, and his lips left a thin, searing band above Draco’s eyebrow. “Someone who knows your capabilities and celebrates them, as Harry does not yet have the knowledge to do.” He traced a finger down the center of Draco’s palm, the fingernail scraping a red line that slowly closed over again. “Someone who set you this potion in part as a problem to figure out, so that you would acknowledge yourself again instead of concentrating so fiercely on impressing Harry, because you also are valuable.”
Draco lifted his head, feeling as if he drowned in fire, and Severus’s lips met his in a fierce kiss, fierce enough that Draco could let everything from the past week except those most recent words drain out of his head.
“Do not lose yourself in desire,” Severus whispered into his ear, “either for Harry, or for me, or for an impossible dream. I have seen far too many who could not be content except with the achievement of ambitions that did not depend on themselves, but on the actions of others or the fortunes of an indifferent world. You are what you are, Draco, and most of what you are is beautiful. Rejoice in that.”
His fingers slid down Draco’s chest and began to unbutton his robes. Draco opened his mouth to moan, and Severus’s mouth was already there again.
Draco needed to burn, and so he gave himself up to the warmth. He barely opened his eyes as Severus pulled him up the stairs to their bedroom, but concentrated on the taste of Severus’s tongue in his mouth and the prickle of fingers up and down his sternum. When he lay sweating and naked on their bed, he tried his best to absorb those fingers and that tongue through his skin.
Now the tongue licked up his shoulder. Now the fingers curled around his cock and weighed it thoughtfully before moving away, paying absolutely no attention to Draco’s cry of protest. Draco thought about opening his eyes and demanding more force where he most wanted it, but that would mean clearing his head of the blinding warmth and thinking for himself, so he didn’t.
Now the tongue was on his elbow, and then behind his knee, and now it curled around his right big toe. Draco shivered in delight, never knowing where the touch would come next, and the flames leaped and soared through him.
Severus’s fingers prepared him. Severus’s fingers also touched his quivering stomach, dipped into his navel, and ran up and down the length of his erection. Draco didn’t know which hand was which. He only knew that he was moaning impatiently, small puffs of hot air, and thrusting his arse backwards by the time Severus finally consented to slide into him.
Finally. That was warm enough, and full enough, and Draco could think of the thorough fuck he was receiving and nothing else.
His orgasm took the fire from him, sticky pulses that seemed to scald as they landed on his stomach. Severus followed and then rolled to the bed beside him, as if he knew instinctively that Draco would be too hot if he lay on top. This time, his fingers tracing Draco’s cheekbone felt wonderfully cool.
Draco opened his eyes at last, burned through, purified, and offered Severus a sleepy smile that Severus returned with an intent gaze. Draco held his chuckle inside. Severus was not about to let him fall asleep until he knew whether Draco had understood that there were people who really did value him for himself.
Or a person. And at the moment, Draco could not resent that there weren’t more, or that Harry might not ever be one of them. Having one was brilliant, and more than he had thought he would achieve at any time during the last three years.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Tomorrow, I’ll finish the potion, and I’ll take as long as I need to, and I’ll do it perfectly.”
Severus bent his head and kissed Draco again, from a distance, their lips just brushing each other’s, no tongue. Draco thought dazedly that it was like receiving a kiss in the ashes of a wildfire, but far better-tasting than ashes.
That didn’t make much sense, but Draco thought he was allowed not to make sense right now. He dared Granger to make sense after such a thorough fucking.
That brought up images he didn’t want to contemplate. It was much easier to tuck himself around Severus, though far enough from him that air could still slide freely between their bodies, and close his eyes.
For the first time in several years, he dreamt one of those dreams that had been so common when he was a child: a dream of his own achievements, of the brilliant things he would do as soon as he had a chance, and of eyes looking at him admiringly. And none of the eyes was particularly green.
*
“Severus? Draco?”
Harry blinked and pulled his head out of the potions lab, which looked as though a storm had whirled through it. That worried him—when was the last time Severus had left the lab like that without cleaning it up?—but he knew he would have felt any danger to them through the bond. He wandered upstairs, where the marks of some heels dragged along the carpet told him they might have gone.
The door of their bedroom was firmly shut.
Harry hesitated, and then told himself to respect their privacy and go to his own room. He was tired anyway after his speech, and wanted to rest. There was no reason to intrude on Severus and Draco, especially when they might not be…finished.
Harry wished he understood what he was feeling when he thought about that, other than interest that was incredibly inappropriate.
He stood there, fidgeting from foot to foot in the corridor, and listened intently. He couldn’t hear any sounds, no grunting or slamming, and he couldn’t see any Silencing Charms or privacy wards on the bedroom door. They were probably asleep.
In which case you should still leave them alone and give them the chance to rest, Hermione would probably insist.
I’m just concerned about them, Harry thought defensively, and then crept slowly towards their door and opened it without a sound. Something must have happened. I know that Severus wouldn’t leave that mess lying around without a reason. I just want to make sure that they’re all right.
He couldn’t see anything at first, since his first timid push at the door had opened it only far enough to show a corner of the wall. Harry swallowed, hoped that Severus and Draco hadn’t been paranoid enough to leave a creak in the hinges so that it would warn them of coming enemies, and nudged it the rest of the way open.
Draco lay on his side, his face twisted away from Harry. His hair was tousled so it pointed almost straight backwards, like the tail of a comet, and his legs were sprawled wide. He was completely naked, and he looked innocent with it. Harry caught sight of something white on his hip and jerked his eyes away guiltily. He preferred to listen to the sound of Draco’s soft breathing instead.
Then he looked up further, and realized that Severus lay next to Draco, his chest to Draco’s chest, his arm wrapped around Draco’s shoulder, his head resting on the pillow above Draco’s.
And that his eyes were open and fixed on Harry’s like a watchful lion’s.
Harry stared back, transfixed. Severus was naked as well, of course, but most of him was hidden by Draco. Harry could make out the pallor of his skin, though, and a stripped-down thinness, as though he had been through so many trials that all the weakness and softness had worn away from him and left only muscle. His hair swung around his face, long and dark and cut sharply enough to make what looked like a ragged slash on his skin where it covered his neck. Harry didn’t know whether anyone would ever call Severus beautiful, but he was interesting.
And Harry didn’t have the right to think about things like that, since he was not Draco’s or Severus’s lover.
Harry dropped his eyes, uncomfortable now. “Sorry,” he whispered, and backed out of the room, being careful not to look up again. He closed the door softly when he was out, so as not to wake up Draco.
When he retreated to his own bedroom, it was with thoughts and possibilities and memories and sights whirling around his head, which did not help him to fall asleep as quickly as he had thought he might after the speech.
*
Severus let his chin rest on Draco’s shoulder and continued staring at the door where Harry had stood for a moment. His eyes had been wide. Fascinated. Intrigued.
Of course, he had reverted to Gryffindor guilt almost the moment he caught Severus’s eye and not looked hard enough to see that there was no condemnation in the gaze Severus returned, but welcome if he wished to take it.
Still.
Almost the moment he caught Severus’s eye. He had stood there for a short time after that.
Severus closed his eyes, nestled his nose into Draco’s hair, and smiled.
Part Fourteen.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 07:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 01:37 am (UTC)The political plot changes a bit after this part.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 07:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 08:13 pm (UTC)Very happy to see Harry gathering his thoughts and moving forward. And I had to smile when Draco blew up another potion. I just pictured his face blinking at first in disbelief before gathering a stormy petulant look.
I do love the dynamics in this story!
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 10:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 01:39 am (UTC)In this case, Harry is going to make as many mistakes as possible before he gets into bed with them. He still doesn't really understand his own attractions, and for a while they won't be the most important part of the fic. Draco and Severus will be.
Thank you!
Their Phoenix 13
Date: 2009-06-19 08:19 pm (UTC)I like the fact that Severus offers Harry the chance to get a little revenge on Kingsley via the ulcer curse!
I like the way that Severus *understands* Draco and gives him what he needs.
And I looove that Harry can't help but be fascinated by Severus and Draco together... and is possibly seeing himself in the mix! Yeay! :-)
Re: Their Phoenix 13
Date: 2009-06-21 01:39 am (UTC)Severus is the one who understands rather than the one who is understood, so far. I'm hoping that that can change fairly soon.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 09:12 pm (UTC)I like how Harry decides to become a political player and listens to the advice given to him about his public appearance. I wonder how the ministry will react to his provocation.
and I'm incredibly interested in how they want to amnage to give Kingsley that potion... which is, decidedly, quite evil... ^___^
Draco is cute. He's the character that comes across the youngest, but I guess he just needs some more time to accept all his responsabilities^^ Those to himself and those to others.
And Severus... I like how he cares so mich now. he's very open about his feelings, without jumping around and screaming them at the world. XD. I like that!
Aza^^
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 01:41 am (UTC)The Ministry is not going to react all that well, but they'll also be cautious at first, since interfering hasn't worked out that well for them.
Draco has a strong sense of having failed and not having been good enough in the past. He'll need to get over that before he can accept his responsibilities, as it were.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 10:06 pm (UTC)Oh yes, Severus is my favorite. Giving Kingsley a stomach ulcer. It’s ruthless and mild at the same time. I like it. I can’t wait to see how they slip it to him.
The potion explosion in the middle of the conversation was also good. I like how this Draco is not a master at Potions just because he happens to be good at it. He’s still just a teenager who has more to learn.
--
Most of the lines Severus spoke during his scene with Draco were.... heart warming and endearing. Yup. Totally my favorite. I think I’m in love. Fabulous sex scene. Fabulous scene by itself. I loved the political Harry coming through, bit this was the best scene in my book. Severus is turning into a downright softy.
I was wondering when Harry was going to walk in on a private moment between the two of them and you handled it beautifully.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 01:42 am (UTC)Draco can be a lot better than he is right now. But he gets impatient. Impatience, even more than immaturity, is his biggest fault, I think.
I'm really glad you're enjoying Severus. I'm always cautious about writing him.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 01:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 11:30 pm (UTC)Squee, squee, squee....
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 01:43 am (UTC)It sounds as if you enjoyed pretty much every part of the chapter, then. :)
Harry is very, very irritated with Kingsley. If it had been just one thing, like refusing to arrest Pepperfield, he wouldn't be, but the constant piling of threats on threats has made him feel harassed and not just opposed.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 12:24 pm (UTC)Well yes, you see, this is why I'm not as good as I used to be at pointing out specific things and lines which I liked. There are usually a lot of them, which I can't recall in total after reading the whole chapter unless I take the time to go back and to skim it and to note each thing - as I did this time ;) But I feel somewhat bad when you take the time and effort to write such lovely and fast updates to share with us, and then all I have to say is, "I really liked it"....
no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 02:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 09:51 am (UTC)This is just too amazing!!
with a stare that was absolutely not fair, because he must have picked it up from Severus. Hahaha - that is absolutely brilliance! XD
I love Severus more and more in this! Harry and Draco would have been doomed without him! ...I start to wonder how they ever survived in all the H/D fics Xb
Severus' way of taking care and reassure in the last two chapters had been MAGNIFICENT!
And the image of Harry standing i the bedroom door, LOOKING at Draco and Snape *grins* I love this story so so sosososo much!!!
THANK YOOUUU!!!!!!!!!!!! ♥
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 01:45 am (UTC)Well, the Harry and Draco I write in H/D fics are usually a bit older. :)
When that last image came to me, I knew I had to end the chapter that way.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 02:09 pm (UTC)Severus and Draco's moment in the messy lab was simply beautiful. I love that Draco can tell when he's being soft and when he's being hard. And he's right: only someone that close to Snape would be able to separate anger from concern.
And then there was sex. My heart raced. Kicked into overdrive when Harry opened the door and found Snape staring at him. That's...there are no words for how I felt at that moment. But I will admit I had naughty thoughts (that I hope will come true over the course of the story). Splendid writing!
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 01:46 am (UTC)Hopefully, Harry will someday gain the same level of knowledge about Snape that Draco has.
Thanks very much! I can promise naughtiness, although not until some point in the future (this story is even longer than I thought it would be).
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 12:43 pm (UTC)I am enjoying this story and the interactions between Harry/Draco/Severus very much!
:)
no subject
Date: 2009-06-22 06:27 pm (UTC)so that you would acknowledge yourself again instead of concentrating so fiercely on impressing Harry, because you also are valuable.”
Yay Severus! Way to tell Draco that he's important. I really like how each of the characters is separate in this fic, not just a part of the bond. You do a very good job presenting that.
Much love and support for this fic! Great chapter.