Chapter Twenty-Four of 'Practicing Liars'- Demands Answered

[lomonaaeren]

Title: Practicing Liars (24/?)
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 Twenty-Four—Demands Answered

“Well? Have you thought about it?”

Draco didn’t understand the calm face that Potter turned to confront him, or the way he sat up in the hospital bed as if he had all the time in the world. Draco hadn’t expected him to be still in the hospital wing, if he was honest with himself. It was like Potter to sneak off to Gryffindor Tower and never admit that he was hurt if he could help it.

“I have,” Potter said. “And I’ve decided that, although you know something about most of my secrets and so it would be stupid to think that I can keep them forever, I don’t have to tell you everything right away.”

Draco blinked at him. He thought he would have been able to object if Potter had whinged or protested too hard or turned red in the face. But he just looked grim and calm, as if he believed that he could survive the darkness in him after all, and that held Draco’s tongue still.

“I am sorry for what I almost did to you,” Potter added, his voice gentled now. “There was no excuse for that. There are certain things that I can’t do if I want to pretend to myself that I’m acting the right way at all, and that’s one of them.” He pushed himself up the pillow and extended his hand to Draco.

Draco came forwards to take the hand, having no idea what else he should do. Potter used it to pull him closer than Draco would have thought he’d be allowed.

But then, I think this is Potter’s day for doing the unexpected, he thought, pleasantly breathless.

Potter smoothed the hair out of his eyes and stared deeply into them for a minute. Then he whispered, “You stood up to me when I was doing something wrong. Not many of my friends would have had the courage to, because they think that I’m doing right all the time. Thank you.”

Draco nodded, dazed. Then he blinked and fought to gain control of himself. It didn’t matter how deep and swimming Potter’s eyes were from this close, he thought. There was still a certain grave, cold dignity that Malfoys needed to have, or they were nothing. He would show Potter that he still possessed it.

“Does my opposition make a difference to you, then?” he demanded in a whisper. “Are you going to actually try to relate to Professor Snape and do something to survive?”

“The first part I don’t think is any of your business,” Potter said, with coolness that more than answered Draco’s. “The second part—yes.” He tilted his head to the side, and suddenly his face looked more human because he was wearing a wistful smile. “Yes, you’ve convinced me.”

Draco nodded. He could accept that Professor Snape would probably want to keep whatever relationship he and Potter established strictly between them; Draco was kind of surprised he hadn’t been Oblivated to force the secret from his mind yet. As long as he knew that Potter wasn’t lying back and staring at the sky like a Muggle martyr on a cross he’d heard stories about, then he was content.

“When will you get out of here?” he asked, to change the subject, and stepped back so that the dangerous intimacy and intensity between them would lessen. Potter blinked his eyes and released a slow breath, as if he was surprised at how much less the air seemed to burn when Draco was a short distance from him.

“A few hours, probably,” Potter said. “I was sleeping too deeply most of the night to realize how I felt—” for some reason, he blushed when he said that “—and then Madam Pomfrey was awake and wanted to check my wounds.”

He did sound as if he was grumbling when he said that, the way Draco had expected. It was enough that Draco looked at him sternly. “It’s no sin for other people to care about you and want to help you, you know.”

“I know that,” Potter snapped, so defensively that Draco was sure he hadn’t thought about it. “But there’s a point where it gets smothering, and I’m not used to that—” He bit his lip and fell silent again.

Draco looked at him knowingly. He wanted to say something about how this related to the way Potter had been raised by his Muggle relatives. He could feel the taste of the words in his mouth, how they would sound and feel, how they would make his tongue tap against his teeth.

But he thought about the way Potter had stood by him when the Dark Lord sent his father’s head, and how he had come in and helped Draco rescue his mother without lots of gloating or sneering. That was part of the reason he thought of Potter as a friend now, instead of a Gryffindor do-gooder who just did those things because they were “right” and he wanted to show off how “righteous” he was. Draco thought he could do the same thing himself and hold back instead of constantly getting on Potter’s nerves about his secrets.

“All right,” Draco said, and forced himself to swallow the other words. “As long as you know that.” He walked towards the door of the hospital wing, and enjoyed the feeling of Potter staring after him in astonishment. It was nearly as good as having Potter gape at him because Draco had confronted him and forced him to admit his mistakes.

Draco did pause near the door to glance back and add, “I hope that whatever you decide to do makes you happy.”

He shut the door quietly.

*

“Why were you in the hospital wing, mate?”

Harry grimaced as he slid into a seat at the Gryffindor table. Of course, by the time Madam Pomfrey could release him, it was lunch and the rumor of where he’d been had run all over the school. At least it was Saturday, so he hadn’t missed any classes. But now he had to deal with Ron staring at him in open concern and Hermione peeking from beyond Ron’s head, as if she wanted to show she was worried but wasn’t sure that he would welcome it.

And is that so bad? he thought. Harry wasn’t so sure that he knew his thoughts anymore. They seemed to have changed and grown harder, as if the person in his head who thought had grown up, while the person who felt hadn’t. You have people who worry about you. That’s more than you ever had when you lived with the Dursleys. You don’t have to push them away because they’ll get hurt. They would get hurt anyway, if Voldemort gets his way. And you don’t have to push them away because they’ll hurt you. You know that being left alone would hurt worse.

Harry gave a tiny nod and then faced his friends. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Ron blinked at him, mouth nearly falling open around a piece of treacle tart. Hermione poked him in the back, and he shut it. “What for?” Ron asked finally, and Hermione nodded. Harry had to work hard to avoid staring at her. It was so strange to see Hermione allowing someone else to talk for her.

“Because I’ve ignored you lately,” Harry said. “I’ve acted like I’m staring at my own death, and that’s not true.” I have to believe that. Maybe I can’t trust Snape completely, but I can trust that he’ll like the challenge of trying to help me survive. He won’t give up easily. It would be a reflection on his abilities as a Potions master. I’m allowed to have some hope. “And I’ve been irritated at you because you were acting stupid, but I never allowed you any time to explain that or apologize for it.”

Hermione flushed. “We were acting stupid,” she muttered. “I can’t believe I cared about some of the things that I cared about.”

Ron gave her a quick glare, but seemed more interested in the conversation than in bickering, thankfully. “Well, good, mate,” he said, and smiled at Harry. “Apology accepted.” He held out his hand.

Harry clasped it and smiled at him.

Then he looked at Hermione. He’d talked to her less often, except about Draco. She flushed and clutched her book as if she was going to hold it up in front of her like a shield.

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry told her. “Friends?”

She immediately launched herself from her seat at Harry, despite Ron being in the way, which made their hands tangle with spoons and ended up tipping over a platter of sandwiches. Hermione didn’t seem to notice. She clung to him and murmured words over and over that Harry gradually made out were, “Oh, Harry, always.”

Harry hugged her and shut his eyes. He had thought that making up with his friends would be hard, but he ought to have remembered that they were still his friends, and they hadn’t changed into different people even if they drifted away from him.

He felt a gaze on him, clear and strong and uncompromising, and he knew what it meant without opening his eyes. It was one thing to make up with Draco and with his friends, or rather to hold Draco at a certain distance he didn’t have the right to cross and to try and bring his friends closer.

It was a different thing altogether to try and get close to Snape.

But Harry was going to try. He had promised that to himself, and he was trying to keep those promises.

*

Severus thought he would have known the timid knock on the door of his office if he was presented with a thousand knocks at once.

“Enter,” he said, and didn’t raise his eyes from the potions recipe he was studying. Somehow, Slughorn had complained, one of his first-year classes had all followed the directions and all failed to achieve a passable potion. Severus was attempting to find the source of the mistake, no easy thing in Horace’s tangled thicket of writing.

The boy stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. Severus kept his eyes down. It might be easy if the boy wasn’t confronted with a gaze that he had to meet, and, with them, silent expectations that he would have to answer.

It seemed that the boy didn’t agree.

“Sir?”

Severus raised his eyebrows, and then his eyes. The boy stood in front of his desk with his hands behind his back, as if he didn’t want to be suspected of touching anything. His jaw was set, and he kept swallowing, as if he assumed that would somehow make things easier.

Severus was struck with a memory so powerful it stole his breath: the way he had felt right before he finally decided to approach the young, red-haired witch he’d been watching for days. He’d swallowed, too, and played with the edge of his shirt, wondering if she would laugh and despise him.

In this case, the boy knows that I have already despised him in the past.

“Mr. Potter,” he said, and put the recipe aside. “You have come for a continuation of your lessons? Or for something else?” He would do his part to make their mutual goals achievable. But he had no wish, even now, to coddle. Helping was not the same as coddling. He would make the boy name his goals.

“For help in learning how to survive—this.” The boy gestured at the scar on his forehead and then clenched his hand into a fist, as if he knew that the gesture had looked wild and half-mad. Severus once would not have credited him with such perception, but then, what he thought he knew about the boy had changed much in the last few days.

“Then we will begin,” Severus said, rising to his feet. “I have identified several potions already that may be candidates.” He strode to the other side of his office and rapped his wand against a cauldron in a special rhythm he’d invented. The shelves glowed as five vials launched themselves into the air and hovered above the cauldron.

He finally became aware that the boy hadn’t moved, and glanced over his shoulder, wondering if he should hide his irritation or not. “What is the matter, Mr. Potter?”

“I have another request,” the boy said, in such an absurdly formal tone that he must have practiced repeating those words. Severus had no animus against such things, in moderation. He simply awaited the conclusion of the speech.

They had been in the same room for three minutes without snapping at or trying to kill each other. He thought it an improvement.

“I don’t like the way you say my name,” the boy continued, speaking faster now, as if he hated the words and wanted to hurry through them. “You still sneer—my dad’s name. I don’t like it.”

Severus restrained his immediate wrath. After all, on the one hand it was disgusting to think of James Potter as the boy’s father; on the other, Severus had a sense of what he was about to say.

“Call me Harry, instead,” the boy finished, and stared at him in quiet defiance. Severus wouldn’t have known how fragile the balance between defiance and fear was if not for the way that the boy’s clenched fists trembled.

Severus regarded him in silence. Then he said, “And would you have me do this in front of the Defense class? Or in front of other students who may be serving detention? I assure you that your secret would not stay a secret for very long, if you do.”

“Damn it, no!” The boy took a step forwards, and his eyes shone with fury so sudden that Severus caught his breath—and not only because of the boy’s resemblance to Lily Evans.

The boy caught himself a moment later and took a huffing breath. “You’re making this harder,” he muttered. “No, just when we’re alone, because you sneer the name ‘Potter’ harder when you don’t have an audience. That’s what I want. Call me Potter the rest of the time, I don’t care.” He put his chin up in that way that would have convinced Severus before that he truly didn’t care, and which he now knew was one of the boy’s countless ways of hiding insecurity and fragility.

Severus gave a short nod. Yes, he had been making things more difficult than they needed to be by deliberately misunderstanding the boy’s request.

“Very well,” he said. He paused, because he had never spoken this name without hatred or disdain, either, and yet it was different—from now on, it must be different. “Harry.”

The boy blinked hard, and said to himself in such a soft tone that Severus suspected he hadn’t been meant to hear, “That wasn’t so bad.” Then he looked at the potions vials. “How can these help?”

“They are Purging Potions,” Severus said harshly, as glad as—Harry—could be to change the subject. “They are meant to fasten to poisons in the body and bear them quickly out of the bloodstream, a swift antivenin. I believe that they could be of help in removing the piece of the Dark Lord’s soul that you carry from your body.” He glanced at the boy, but encountered only an expression of fierce concentration, which was at least more hopeful than the bewilderment he would have expected beforehand. “However,” Severus added, “since you have carried that piece for so long, we cannot expect these to work without still more experimentation than would be necessary to adapt them from the body to the soul.”

Harry nodded. “And is there anything else that you can use?”

Severus sneered at him. “Afraid of a bit of purging?”

Harry’s eyes darted up to him, and there was anger in them that looked fresh and raw and young. As irritated as Severus felt at the moment, he could not but approve that. It meant the boy was beginning to recover from the grey despair that had aged him prematurely.

“I was thinking of what we should use in case these particular potions don’t work, sir,” he said, his teeth grinding so hard on the words that Severus could almost hear him biting off pieces of them. “You know, demonstrating that intelligence and foresight you keep telling us we should possess?”

Severus leaned one arm on the cauldron. His mind wavered back and forth between interest and irritation, and for long moments, he did not know which emotion would win. Then the interest welled through like sunlight through clouds, and he nodded. “It is good to see that you can address an audience with some other emotion than noble resignation,” he said.

“I never asked for most of what I’ve suffered in my life,” Harry said, with a starkness of speech that Severus could not help but admire. “I just have to put up with it. I’m trying to.”

Severus examined him in silence for some minutes, then nodded. “You are not attractive as a martyr,” he said. “Try to make sure that your pleasure in it does not return. Keeping off such an emotion depends on finding other things more to your taste.” He took up one of the vials and held it out to the boy. “This one, for instance.”

“I don’t think studying Potions will ever be to my taste,” Harry muttered, but he picked up the vial and studied it obediently.

Severus waited for some time until he thought the boy should have made elementary observations, and then asked, “What do you notice about the potion?”

“That it’s red, and there’s some stuff on the bottom of the vial,” the boy muttered, squinting as if he assumed that would make the glass more transparent than it was.

“That stuff is sediment,” Severus said. Perhaps his son would never be talented in Potions the way he could have been had Severus been allowed to raise him from an infant, but that did not mean he would be allowed to continue in total ignorance. “It comes from ingredients mixed together improperly.” He held out his hand.

“Doesn’t that affect the functioning of the potion, sir?” The boy seemed more than glad to hand the vial back.

“In most cases,” Severus said. “Not this one. It is called the Blood-Washer, and some Potions masters believe that the heaviness of the sediment contributes to its ability to cling to poisons in the bloodstream.” He removed the cork and poured the potion into the cauldron.

“But you don’t believe that?”

Severus darted a glance at the boy. He had noted the exception to Severus’s general statement without having to be coached. “You are better at noticing small implications than I thought you were,” he murmured.

Harry surprised him by flashing him a dark smile. “You’d be amazed what you can pick up when you know that that might make the difference between you eating that night and not eating,” he said.

Severus’s hands tightened for a moment, but he knew from experience that it took greater pressure than that to either to dent a cauldron rim or shatter a glass vial. He laid the empty vial beside the cauldron and cast a powerful Lumos charm on his wand that had the effect of producing light without heat. Heat would trigger the Blood-Washer’s effects, and he had no intention of doing that yet. “The amount of food you could eat depended on your observations of others’ moods?” he asked, simply to clarify the truth that he had already suspected. He had not known for certain that starvation was part of the harsh treatment Potter had reason to expect from blood relatives, but he had suspected, given the state of his ribs and wrists, and the lack of the height that Severus would have expected at this age no matter who his father was.

But Potter simply looked at him with blank eyes and no smile, apparently committed to giving him no information for free, and picked up the empty vial. “What do you expect to do with this potion, sir?”

Severus restrained his wrath with the ease of long experience—both Albus and the Dark Lord exasperated him continually, and at far greater depths than the boy had so far managed—and studied the boy’s face. He thought he understood. There was a warring pressure to confession in his soul, there must be now that he was among people who suspected his secrets, but it was held back by the same pride that had kept him silent for so long.

And there was something else, Severus guessed from the presence of that dark smile. The boy had a grim delight in teasing, in throwing out hints and seeing what his auditors would infer from them.

It was a game that Severus had often played himself.

“I expect to modify the potion so that it can serve as a test case,” Severus remembered to say. Harry’s lip had curled with extra delight when he saw Severus staring at him, and Severus thought continuing longer with the stare would be coddling. “It is not the most powerful of the purging potions available, but it is peculiarly flexible, a product of its ingredients. They interact together in large, loose patterns. It is harder to ruin the Blood-Washer potion when making it, and that looseness also suggests gaps that I may place new ingredients into.”

He glanced at the boy, suddenly realizing that he had been speaking as he might have before Draco and regretting it. But though the scarred brow was furrowed, the boy was nodding with comprehension that Severus did not think was entirely feigned.

“Do you understand this?” Severus demanded.

“Not completely,” the boy said, with a frankness that Severus knew the other professors saw as charming, “but I think I can make a good effort at it.”

Severus frowned at him. “Why did you not exhibit this intelligence in Potions class before? Why were you so determined to deny its existence when the year began and I was learning the extent of your talents?”

The boy curled his lip again and looked away. “Why should I have?” he asked. “If I had, then you would have only been sure that I was stealing the knowledge from somewhere, or copying from Hermione.” His voice grew thick with bitterness. “I think you would have thought I was good at Legilimency before you would think that I understood potions the way you wanted me to.”

Severus turned to face him. “And what of the attempt at truce that we agreed upon last night?” he asked.

“You’re the adult, sir.” The boy stepped away from him. “Don’t you think you should be making more of an effort?”

Severus caught himself again, and nodded shortly. Yes, he should, when so many reasons for his hatred of the boy were gone. And now that he understood, or had some glimpses of what kind of childhood had produced his son, he also understood more about the belligerence he had despised.

“Very well,” he said. “Watch the ingredients I place in contact with the Blood-Washer. Depending on the potion’s response, we will place them in contact with others or discard them from the list…”

And as the boy leaned closer, Severus suffered a sudden, dizzying revelation: he was leaning over a potions cauldron and instructing a son of his blood.

It was so powerful and so distracting that he put it aside and concentrated on the present moment.

But he could feel the thought lying in the back of his mind, having presence and weight, as so few of his thoughts did.

Chapter Twenty-Five.

Comments

[fancypantsdylan.livejournal.com]

I'm so pleased Harry has made up with his friends. Hermione's reaction was so sweet.

I love the interaction with Severus in this last part of the chapter. Especially Harry demanding Severus not call him Potter when their alone.

Brilliant chapter :)

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

I think Harry asking about his name was a big step. Among other things, it shows that he cares what Snape thinks of him, at least to a small extent.

[critterel.livejournal.com]

This update is incredible! I loved the interaction between the characters, Harry pulling out of his depression but most of all I loved the interaction between Snape and Harry. The absolute best was the last three lines. They packed a powerfull punch. How incredible that Severus should have that experience (I'm so happy for him!)

Great chapter. And unbelievable job at making the dialogue so realistic.

Clare

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

I think that Harry would be more well-inclined towards Snape if he realized what his experience of sharing potions-brewing with his son meant to him.

[firedraygon97.livejournal.com]

Haha, I like that Snape recognizes the 'game' Harry plays with his childhood secrets, but doesn't call him on it. And how Draco's willing to back down and let Harry have his secrets. I'm glad they're learning how to compromise with Harry! Excellent chapter. Please write more soon!

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

Sometimes Snape can be diplomatic- something I'm sure Harry would be astonished to hear.

Draco is doing better than Snape at this, but that's partially because he's closer to Harry for the moment.

[star-faerie.livejournal.com]

Brilliant chapter :D I'm glad Harry took steps to make up with his friends, and that he seems to be getting along better with Draco and Severus - they both seem to be trying.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

He is getting along better with them, though at the moment the steps seem so small that they might be hard to notice.

[elgraves.livejournal.com]

Love this chapter. Love Harry's interaction with Severus and Severus realization at the end. Love Harry reconnecting with Ron and Granger. Love Harry's conversation with Draco.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much!

[gothatheartholo.livejournal.com]

Draco did pause near the door to glance back and add, “I hope that whatever you decide to do makes you happy.”

I'm really glad Draco said that, though I can't quite explain it why. I'm able to relate to this. ♥

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

I think it shows Harry that, among other things, Draco cares more about his happiness than in being in possession of every one of Harry's secrets.

[jtsbbsps-dk.livejournal.com]

BRILLIANT BRILLIANT BRILLIANT! :D

*wants MOAR*

You were right, I totally adore this chapter!

The part about Harry's dark smile and the teasing game that Severus could recognize is my very favorite part!
And of course, this: he was leaning over a potions cauldron and instructing a son of his blood. *\o/* ♥

But really, Harry and Draco needs to kiss... the subconscious UST with the otter used it to pull him closer than Draco would have thought he’d be allowed. and the Draco nodded, dazed. Then he blinked and fought to gain control of himself. It didn’t matter how deep and swimming Potter’s eyes were from this close, he thought.!!! But I guess there's enough emotion swimming around in the air as it as, so it'll have to wait...

In short: LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT!!!

♥ ♥ ♥

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

Snape is luckier than he realizes, and so is Harry. Of course, try convincing either one of them of that.

Harry, I think, has never even considered the possibility. After all, he has lots of other things to occupy him, and even in canon, he was a long time about recognizing his attraction to Ginny.

Happy holidays!

[soft2smooth2000.livejournal.com]

love this chapter.... a much gentler one in some respects; love how you're portraying the small steps all of them are taking towards each other. Oh!, and especially adore the Severus-Harry interaction here. *sighs deliciously*

looking forward to then next update as always! :)
xx

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

Yes, for a few chapters here in the middle of the story, the action is gentler. But that won't last long. :)

[reikokatsura.livejournal.com]

Your ability to torture me is astounding. One one hand, I've become so impatient for things to start picking up (more actions, more revelations, etc...). On the other, I'm really enjoying the build-up of the story, and the slow development of the relationships between the characters. Really, I don't know what I want at this point.

This chapter was fab. I'm glad Draco and Harry had their "talk", and ecstatic that Harry finally relented to getting help from Snape, an though Ron and Hermione aren't my favorite characters in this story, I'm happy they made up.

I can't wait for the next installment!

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

I honestly don't mean to! If it helps, then Chapter 26 is going to have a lot of action, or at least more than has happened in the last few chapters.

Thanks! Harry is relenting, but he will be quick to snap back whenever he perceives Snape as turning against him.

[(Anonymous)]

Awww, the little nibbles of UST are so cute...

Severus and Harry are finally working together in some fashion! Yay!

I have nothing constructive or even coherent to offer in this review, evidently. Can't wait for the next update.
-Jolene

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[yanagi-wa.livejournal.com]

Ha! I knew it. Stick the two of them in a potions lab and Severus will crumple. Just a little but it's a start. Great work.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[invincible-sum.livejournal.com]

Great chapter! The interactions between Harry & Draco and Harry & Severus are so rich and fresh, and Hermione's reaction to H's apology was so cute. I also like the dark glints of Snape-like behavior that S & D notice H displaying (although of course H likely learned it from his own difficult upbringing rather than inheriting it, since didn't play any role in his life until 11+).

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

Hermione and Ron will be more involved with the story from this point forwards, hopefully. So I wanted to show that they do appreciate Harry's offer to be more open with them.

*snicker* Harry inherited a lot less than Snape thinks at the moment, but let's let him keep his delusions a short while, shall we?