![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lomonaaerenTitle: Practicing Liars (15/?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Summary: AU of HBP. Harry found out that he was Snape’s son two years ago, and he’s carefully concealed it. But now Snape is his Defense teacher, and Draco Malfoy is up to something, and Dumbledore is dying, and the final battle is coming up, and everything is getting very, very complicated.
Pairings: Background Ron/Hermione and Ron/Lavender. Harry and Draco have a ‘complicated friendship’ which will become a preslash relationship. For obvious reasons, Snape/Lily is mentioned.
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence (lots of violence), profanity, angst, character death (not Snape, Harry, or Draco), slash and het hints.
Author’s Notes: While I’m hoping to make this plot at least somewhat original, I know that I’m treading on well-covered ground. I don’t know yet how long the story will be, except that it will be novel-length. Practicing Liars is being written for my dear soft2smooth2000, who has helped me wonderfully with keeping track of and linking to my fics on LJ.
Chapter One.
Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Fifteen—Plans Made to Be Broken
Harry could feel his eyes widen and the spit dry in his throat. He blinked for several moments at Snape without being able to think of anything he could say.
“Such a shame that the Pride of Gryffindor cannot make them proud with speeches as well.” Snape folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. “It was a simple question, Potter. If you falter on this, I cannot imagine how we are supposed to let you be part of the rescue.”
Clashing thoughts rebounded in Harry’s head.
They want me to be part of it?
This is exactly why I would never be able to trust Snape. He can’t praise me honestly. He can’t praise anyone honestly who isn’t a Slytherin. He would hate and despise me even more if he knew that I’d managed to lie to him and his supremacy was no longer complete.
Strangely, the mere thought of how horrible Snape’s reaction to him could be, the even worse things Snape could do and say to him that he’d feared for so long, helped steady Harry. He found himself sitting up and giving Snape a nasty smile.
“I do have that life-debt, sir,” he said. “The question is, why should I let you have it?”
Snape and Malfoy exchanged a glance. Harry didn’t try to understand it. He surmised it was another “Gryffindors are such fools” glances, and he’d already had enough of them to last a lifetime. He folded his arms and waited.
“I believe,” said Snape at last, with such caution that you’d have thought he was confessing a state secret to somebody, “that only such a strong compulsion as a life-debt would permit us to force one of the Death Eaters to let us pass the enchanted boundaries of the Dark Lord’s safehouses.”
Harry knew better than to look intimidated, though he did wonder how Snape could speak in such long sentences without pausing to rest his breath. “Why can’t you simply get us inside, sir? I know you have ways.” He wasn’t sure how much Malfoy knew about Snape and the Death Eaters, so he kept that quiet.
“Those ways are no longer widely available to me,” Snape said, even more carefully. He gave Harry another baleful glare. Harry raised his eyebrow and sat there being unimpressed until Snape glanced away. “I would prefer to have the surety of someone who must sacrifice his life for us if he wishes to be free of the claim on his magic.”
“And I wouldn’t,” Harry retorted. “Wormtail’s a coward, sir, plain and simple. What’s to keep him from getting so afraid that he betrays us to Voldemort?”
Malfoy caught his breath. Harry couldn’t believe he’d been quiet so long, and shot him a curious look. Snape glared at him and covered his left arm with one hand, as if the Dark Mark was a living thing that could know they were talking about it.
“I will not have you speak that name as we make our plans, Potter,” he says.
Harry just shrugged, and had some satisfaction in seeing Snape’s eyes get even darker with anger.
“I will have your promise of that before I permit you to be involved in this rescue,” Snape said in a voice that he probably imagined made him sound like a deadly snake and really only made him sound like he had a bad cough.
Harry hesitated. On the one hand, he didn’t want to give up saying Voldemort’s name. What if Snape never let him start again? That would be just like him.
On the other hand, he did want to be involved in this. It was the only way he could think of to show Malfoy that he still felt sorry for him and wanted to help without looking like he thought Malfoy’s opinions about blood traitors and Muggleborns were all right.
He nodded.
“Speak the promise,” Snape told him.
God, he would be an awful father. Always making sure there are no loopholes that you can wriggle out of. Harry knew that he couldn’t have that. The Dursleys always left him some leeway because they simply didn’t care enough about him to restrict everything he could do.
Thanks for keeping it from him, Mum.
He met Snape’s eyes and said, “All right, I promise I’ll call him something else.” Snape nodded shallowly, and Harry glanced over at Malfoy to see how he would take it. He was surprised to find that the other boy’s eyes were wide with what looked like relief.
I don’t understand. It’s just a name. If Voldemort could hear you when you said it or something, then Dumbledore would have told me.
“Now we must consider how we are to enter Malfoy Manor,” Snape said. “Since Lucius is in prison and the Dark Lord shows no signs of breaking him out, and since Narcissa is manifestly unable to help us, that leaves only one candidate.” He turned and looked at Malfoy.
*
Draco lifted his head. He hoped that he appeared calm and composed and adult, and he knew that he probably looked none of those things.
But you’re the one who’s going to rescue your mother. And it’s not as though this is a test about something you don’t know. How many times has Father shown you the secret doors and passages?
Draco winced when he thought that Lucius might have shown the Dark Lord those doors and passages, too. But he would have to hope that hadn’t happened. He said quietly, “I know a way to get us across the grounds and into the house, sir. But the Dark Lord has wards around the walls that would detect us if we Apparated in.”
“I do not propose to Apparate the entire way,” Professor Snape said, with all the coolness of tone that Draco lacked and wished he had. “I wish to make sure what options we do not have, but I never expected Apparition to be one of them. I assume that all Floo connections are closed and monitored?”
Draco nodded. “Grandfather Abraxas came up with a spell that links all the fireplaces together and puts them under control of the Lord of the manor, and my father gave that control to the Dark Lord before he went to prison.” He probably thought it was a good idea at the time, he thought bitterly. On the other hand, if his father hadn’t done that, the only other option would have been to pass it to Draco, and then the Dark Lord would just have forced him to give it up anyway. Lucius had chosen the option that left him and his family with some dignity.
“No Flooing.” Professor Snape drew his fingers carefully together. “How well-watched are the Manor’s grounds and the land immediately around it? How well-watched are the skies?”
Draco blinked. Does he mean to go in on brooms? I thought he didn’t fly well. “There are Death Eaters who watch all of them,” he said obediently. “At least two for each quadrant of the Manor grounds, or there were at the beginning of summer. The Dark Lord could have changed that now.”
Professor Snape nodded to him, as if commending his good sense. Draco sat up straighter and couldn’t help giving Potter a proud little glance. See? Someone respects me. You can, too.
Potter could have looked at him. He was watching Snape instead, with his forehead so wrinkled that Draco almost lost the scar among all the folds.
He snorted quietly and faced Professor Snape. “There were a few guards beyond the walls, but not many. There are some Muggles who travel past, and the Dark Lord didn’t want to attract their attention. You know that most of the Death Eaters can’t be trusted on their own, sir,” he added.
Professor Snape nodded. “And watching the skies?”
“I only saw some of them fly up sometimes,” Draco said. “Never very regularly. But maybe he’s changed that, too, since I’ve been home.” He had to blink and swallow when he thought about that. Home, but it no longer felt that way. Now it was the house where the Dark Lord lived and his mother was tortured.
“Then I propose to Apparate as close as we can, before we fly,” said Professor Snape. “It is the best way to approach unobserved. We will have contacted Pettigrew before this time and arranged to have him meet us outside the wards. He will conduct us inside—and he will forfeit more than his life if he betrays us, Potter,” he added. He must have seen Potter’s mouth open out of the corner of his eyes, just the way Draco had.
Potter shook his head, a stubborn light in his eyes. “He betrayed my parents because he was more afraid of Volde—of the Bastard Who Won’t Die than he was of betraying his friends, sir. How can we be sure that he won’t do that again? Especially if he’s there?”
Draco blinked. What? I thought it was Sirius Black who betrayed his parents. He’d heard rumors to the contrary, but he’d never believed them. Pettigrew’s rat Animagus form seemed to be the sole reason he was in the Death Eaters’ ranks.
“I have the means to make sure that he does not,” Professor Snape said, and a ghastly smile broke across his face. Draco, who knew it was meant for their enemies, smiled back. Potter seemed less sure and stared for a few minutes before he slowly nodded.
“All right,” he said. “And will he tell us how to get Mrs. Malfoy out, too? Or will we have to do something else to convince her to come with us?” He glanced at Draco.
“Mister Malfoy will do the convincing,” Professor Snape said. “She cares for his life more than her own. She will come with us.”
Potter looked as if he thought that no Slytherin could ever care for someone’s life before their own, but he nodded again.
Then he asked a question Draco had not expected. He supposed it was good to be reminded that Gryffindors were capable of the startling once in a while, but that didn’t make up for the surprise that raced through him like a flicker of fire.
“Are you going to tell Professor Dumbledore about this, sir?”
Professor Snape gave another smile, or at least Draco could have called it that if he was feeling generous. Draco thought it was more like just parting his lips and happening to show his teeth.
“He has his means of learning about such endeavors,” Professor Snape said coolly. “I think we will leave him to use those means.”
Draco smiled again. Potter gulped as if wondering what he’d got himself into, but nodded yet again.
I wish he would nod at me like that, Draco thought suddenly. He doesn’t respect Snape, so he can’t be listening just because he’s a teacher. If he can accept the words of someone who’s the Head of Slytherin and keeps torturing him, why can’t he believe someone who hurts him a little bit sometimes?
Draco frowned. He would have an answer to that question, and soon.
“It will take perhaps a week for me to contact Pettigrew and arrange matters so that we can depart the school without attracting suspicion,” Professor Snape was saying. “Have your brooms always ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”
“Yes, sir,” Draco and Potter said, both at once. Potter gave Draco a suspicious glance, as if he thought echoing his words was such a grand treat that Draco had done it on purpose.
Draco decided that he would do something different, though. He smiled.
Potter jolted back in his chair and turned his head carefully away. When Professor Snape dismissed him, he practically ran down the corridor and wouldn’t wait even though Draco risked a low call after him.
Gryffindors, Draco thought in disgust as he trekked back to the Slytherin common room. Who can understand them?
*
Severus’s letter to Peter was a masterpiece. Full of soft, vague, threatening hints about what would happen if the life-debt was not fulfilled, and yet never saying those words in such a manner that Peter could confirm what would happen, it made Severus feel better than anything had done since he discovered Lily’s complicity in torturing him. He watched the owl wing away with the parchment, and a deep relaxation settled into him.
He had made it even more believable by telling Peter that he was willing to help Potter with this because he was Lily’s son.
Lily’s son.
It was an impossible observation to escape since uncovering the memory had brought her back to the surface of his mind. Potter had some of her expressions, her impulsiveness, her ability to hold grudges. Severus sometimes watched him in the Great Hall during the evening and even saw her in the way that the boy picked up a fork or flicked a piece of egg at the back of his friends’ heads.
That was going too far. Lily would not have done something like that.
But then he remembered times she had participated in food fights with the rest of Gryffindor House and he had watched her with uneasy fascination from the Slytherin table, wondering why she would do something so undignified, something so different from the playfulness they shared when they were children. It was one thing to have fun and another to have fun in a way that was so meaningless. Food fights could not hone her magic, they could not make her stronger or faster, and they earned her annoyance that might come out in pranks later, resulting in the loss of her dignity. Why should she do such a thing?
He had suppressed those memories, and with the help of no outside force, no Memory Charm. They had happened. But he had pretended to himself that they did not, and learned to see Lily as perfect.
He had needed that, perhaps, in the first years after the war, when he could not stand to think that of his actions in other terms than pure guilt. He had condemned someone beautiful and blameless to death, and that her son had survived her was not enough. He had never seen the boy, then. How could he think that a self-sacrificial death—which he had no doubt it was—or a squalling baby was any proper memento of her?
It had seemed that only building a shrine to her in his soul would be. And so he had done, though without any consciousness that he was idealizing her. He would have said, if anyone had the temerity to ask him and the importance to him not to be blown to pieces on the instant, that he had remembered her as she was, as the others would not whose tongues and heads were full of James.
No matter how carefully he walked, no matter what direction his thoughts turned, he stepped on pieces of his own shattered idols.
He told himself to pluck the only good fruit of his speculations, the fact that he noticed more about Potter than he used to now, and give up the rest. It was barren and bitter.
He had wandered in a wasteland for the last fifteen years. Why should he not be able to bear that? Why should he care that his one spring of sweet water had been poisoned? If he were truly strong, he would long since have become accustomed to going without.
*
Harry leaned over the Prince’s book and moved his lips silently as he repeated the incantation. The problem was that he couldn’t test it, because he had no idea what it would do except that it was a spell for enemies, and so there was no one here that he would actually want to use it on.
Even Malfoy?
Harry sighed and slammed the book shut. He knew the incantation well enough by now to have memorized it, and he really wanted the time to think about Malfoy undisturbed.
Miraculously, it looked as though he’d have it. Neville was out of the room for the night, watching a special Herbology project that Professor Sprout wanted him to supervise in one of the greenhouses. Seamus had vanished as he tended to do lately—Harry thought he had a girlfriend in one of the other Houses—and Dean was out with Ginny.
Harry hadn’t seen Ron since dinner, and that had been a brief glimpse. He’d rushed past Harry with green tentacles growing down over his ears in place of hair. He’d been headed for the hospital wing.
Harry rolled his eyes as he turned over on his back to stare up at the canopy. He didn’t know what to do about Hermione and Ron. Probably just wait until they got their jealousy out of their systems and finally got together.
His mind wandered back to Malfoy. The idiot. The suffering idiot. Harry didn’t know what he would do if his mother was alive and a prisoner of Voldemort.
I would have probably gone to rescue her immediately.
But Malfoy didn’t have experience in acting alone on a dangerous mission. (He’d done a horrible job of keeping up with his secret mission in the Room of Requirement, in Harry’s opinion). He wasn’t brave. He was talented in Defense, reasonably, but he didn’t have the command of spells that Harry was beginning to realize he did. What could he have done?
A weird warm, sloshy feeling began in Harry’s stomach. He poked the muscles there for a moment and wondered if he’d eaten too much pudding after dinner.
Was he feeling protective of Malfoy?
But no matter how long he lay there telling himself it was ridiculous, he knew what he felt. Yes, he was protective of Malfoy. He was such a git. He didn’t know the right way to do anything when it came to fighting Voldemort. But he had to do it because he had to rescue his mum. Harry could just picture him screwing up his eyes and charging into battle, hoping it all worked out somehow.
Harry shook his head. Of course it wouldn’t work out. So he would come along and make sure Malfoy and his mum got out of the Manor safely. Snape would be there, too, but somehow Harry thought the real work would fall to him. Probably because Snape would be too busy lying to Death Eaters and intimidating Pettigrew, and Harry couldn’t imagine Malfoy doing anything when he was so worried about his mother.
There. That’s why I feel protective. I have to be or the rescue mission won’t go right.
Maybe it was more than that, but Harry didn’t intend to think about it anymore. Malfoy had occupied more than his fair share of Harry’s thoughts this evening. He flipped around and picked his book up again. There were other incantations he wanted to memorize before they left.
*
Potter was being nice to him.
Draco couldn’t believe it at first. But Potter lingered after Defense. Draco thought he simply wanted to speak to Professor Snape—it made sense that they would coordinate the spells they would use on the journey—but instead Potter fell into step beside him when he came out.
Draco glanced down the corridor nervously, but he couldn’t see any other hiding, giggling Gryffindors. Then he looked up, but Peeves wasn’t waiting ready to dump a water balloon on him, either.
He glared at Potter.
“Can’t someone apologize without you looking as if you wanted a wall to fall on them?” Potter muttered out of the side of his mouth.
Draco hated the undignified way his mouth fell open, but he dared any Slytherin not to react that way when Harry Pottered said that to them.
“I don’t like everything about you,” Potter said. “But I like enough that I should have been less hasty when I judged you.”
Draco peered into his eyes, trying to see if his pupils were dilated. He knew some potions that would make people react like this.
Potter blinked, ruining Draco’s view of his pupils. “What are you doing?”
He sounded offended. Draco didn’t want him to feel like that and turn away again. He hastily dipped his head and muttered, “I accept your apology.” He hesitated, then realized that Potter might turn away thinking that had been enough and it was up to him to make sure Potter stayed around. “Are you—do you want to talk after dinner? Can you get away?” Potter’s little friends hadn’t been noticing much of what he did lately, but that could change at any time.
Potter smiled slightly. “Yeah. Where should we meet?”
Draco thought about that, while simultaneously checking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching them from the Defense classroom. “What about the room where you told me about Pomfrey? There doesn’t seem to be anyone there most of the time. And it’s a little cold to meet on the Quidditch pitch.”
“Have you forgotten that you’re a wizard?” Potter teased him, the way Draco had when he hadn’t cast a Warming Charm. “I’ll see you there at six.”
He left before Draco could object about the time. But Draco was smiling as he went back to the Slytherin common room.
You shouldn’t let your desire for his trust control you, his father’s voice warned gravely in his head. When you start to value your outlet more than the situation that occasions the need for that outlet, then you are becoming its slave.
Draco shook his head and sat down on his bed when he got into the room, closing his eyes. He’d had a headache on the way to Defense, but it was gone now, as if Potter’s words were a potion.
I won’t become a slave to it. If it ever turns out that it would be to my advantage to betray Potter, then I’ll do it.
But the advantage would have to be enormous. I like this. I like talking to him.
I like it.
*
Severus took the letter from the owl that had flown to him at the Head Table. He recognized the scrawl on the outside of the envelope, though not the bird; the Death Eaters were not so stupid as to use owls with unusual size or markings to deliver messages.
At least, they are not so stupid after several of the Dark Lord’s admonitions, Severus thought as he tucked the letter into his pocket. Pettigrew had taken the bait. Severus would have to wait to examine the message until after dinner, and thus to tell Potter and Draco whether they should be ready to move or not.
“A letter from an admirer, Severus?” asked Trelawney, hiccupping gently. The abominable woman appeared to be drunk again. “You must let us see it.”
Severus quelled her with no more than a glance, but stood up and left the table soon after. He had eaten enough—he never ate much; that presented less opportunity for someone to slip a poison or potion into his food—and he wished to be sure of Pettigrew.
He was glad he had not waited when he saw the words at the top of the parchment.
It must be tonight.
Severus turned swiftly to summon Potter and Draco.
Chapter Sixteen.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 01:31 am (UTC)i've been checking harrydraco constantly for an update!
no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 01:37 am (UTC)i especially liked
“I only saw some of them fly up sometimes,” Draco said. “Never very regularly. But maybe he’s changed that, too, since I’ve been home.” He had to blink and swallow when he thought about that. Home, but it no longer felt that way. Now it was the house where the Dark Lord lived and his mother was tortured.
this was a really strong paragraph, and it really made me get inside Draco's head.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:40 am (UTC)Practicing Liars 15
Date: 2009-11-21 01:36 am (UTC)Has this story officially changed names to 'Practical Liars' or is it still 'Practicing Liars'?
Off to read the new chapter... :-)
Re: Practicing Liars 15
Date: 2009-11-26 02:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 01:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:40 am (UTC)likinghatred still manages to persist.no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 02:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 02:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:41 am (UTC)That didn't happen much, but then, they still needed Pettigrew to help them in that chapter.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 04:31 am (UTC)LMAO!!!
no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 04:47 am (UTC)Heh, I like Draco's straightforward thinking. He's still trying to defend his feelings against his father's warnings, but he's not as bad as Harry, who justifies feeling protective of Draco as a manifestation of his saving-people-thing. Lovely chapter. ♥
no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:42 am (UTC)Thank you! I want to stress that their self-deception is only half-conscious, though. Harry really does think that his feeling protective of Draco is less individual and more because Draco needs his help.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 10:42 am (UTC)I keep on thinking about what will happen when Snape finds out that Harry is his son. That is such a loaded subject that it scares me a little to consider it. Ha ha! And the cute innocent love that seems to be blossoming between Harry and Draco is so perfect too.
*sigh* I love pretty much everything about this story, and I do hope you update it soon. You've got me hooked now! XD
no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:43 am (UTC)Snape is not going to be happy. Let's put it that way.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 12:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 01:56 pm (UTC)I am really, really liking this chapter! :D
*hugs Severus*
Yay Harry and Draco talking again!!!
Something is DOOMED to go wrong on that rescue mission! And Draco will no longer be able to pretend to work for Voldemort...
It's really going to be the Point of No Return, isn't it? Everything is just going to be rolling from that point on...
Can't wait for it :DDD
no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:45 am (UTC)I didn't want too much to actually go wrong on the rescue mission, because it was meant to accomplish several very specific things. But in this case, I think enough went wrong after it!
no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 08:15 am (UTC)INfuckingDEED!!!!
XD
no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 04:09 pm (UTC)*snicker* And I love how Harry, without realizing that it might be a rather cocky line of thought, is thinking about how he has to be along on the Narcissa rescue mission with his Voldie-fighting skills and experiences for it to work out. As if Severus couldn't usually take care of himself. *pats Harry on the head*
no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:45 am (UTC)Harry is growing more confident about his skills, and the praise from Snape helps! But let's hope that he doesn't get too overconfident.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 04:15 pm (UTC)I am soooo looking forward to him figuring it out. Write faster you evil thing you!
(oh, and I desperately need some "Wait, I am gay for Malfoy?" revelations too.)
no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:46 am (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 07:55 pm (UTC)Also definitely a first if I remember correctly here. Generally I don't see Lucius voice popping into Draco's head like that, and you usually have Narcissa "voicing her opinions." I found that interesting.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:47 am (UTC)Severus is going to explode, but at least partially because Harry does some other things during the revelation scene rather than because Harry is Lily's son. After all, he'll have the counterbalancing fact that Harry is no longer James's son.
Thank you! I do see Draco as more influenced by his father in canon, and this is supposed to be closer to that.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-21 09:09 pm (UTC)Severus is just a wee bit hard on himself, isn't he? Just a tad? No one can go through life without any hopes or ideals or idols or inspirations...or at least, it would be a dreary and miserable existance without them.
Can't wait to see how the rescue mission goes. Hope there's not too much of a trap waiting for them! And we get closer to the reveal with every update...*waits impatiently* It's like watching a pot and knowing it'll boil eventually...except a week or more is a long time to watch. *sigh*
-Jolene
no subject
Date: 2009-11-26 02:48 am (UTC)Yes, Severus is hard on himself. And in a way, this is just as false as the idealization that he accused himself of with regard to Lily; he thinks that he's much tougher and stronger than he really is.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-28 02:18 am (UTC)