Chapter Twenty-One of 'Seasons of War'- Building Bridges

[lomonaaeren]

Chapter Twenty.

Title: Seasons of War (21/40)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, torture, sex, angst, profanity, ignores the DH epilogue.
Summary: The war against Nihil enters its final stages, Harry and Draco train as partners, and they may actually survive to become effective Aurors. Maybe.
Author’s Notes: This is the final part of the Running to Paradise Trilogy, sequel to Ceremonies of Strife, and won’t make much sense if you haven’t read the first two stories. I don’t yet know how long this one will be, but based on the others, I’m guessing 45 to 50 chapters.

Chapter One.


Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Twenty-One—Building Bridges

Draco couldn’t believe how many secrets the book contained.

It made him worry at first, in fact, thinking that perhaps the book was simply a distraction, that Robards and Holder were creating an elaborate blind in case anyone began to suspect that the secrets and plans they would tell others weren’t the real ones. But he dismissed the thought almost as soon as he had it. For one thing, the book coming to the call for the “real” book told him that Robards, Holder, or both had to think of it that way, and it wasn’t something they would have anticipated anyone else knowing so as it to use it for a trap.

For a second, when they had finished copying the book and went to put the original back, Draco could see the nest of wards that it had had to burst through. He shook his head as they placed the book carefully in the trunk, shut it, and watched the wards reengage. Holder and Robards seemed to have built in an exception for a Summoning Charm that meant the book would emerge on its own and not make the wards ring an alarm, and that the wards would return the moment the trunk shut. It was good luck, more, Harry said in a depressed and pompous voice, than they deserved.

Draco was learning to pinch him when he said things like that.

The most important of the things the book told them was about the sightings of Nihil. Robards and Holder had been gathering them and refusing to share them. The only thing they would tell the trainees, and even the other Aurors, from what Draco had overheard, was that Nihil had launched no direct attacks on anyone.

That was true, but the image of a figure in a golden glamour, his ranks of silent, staring living dead, and the resurrected beasts that Nemo raised had appeared all over England, and in front of Muggles as well.

Draco hadn’t been able to control his exclamation of annoyance when he read that. This time, because it was late at night and Draco was reading the book after Harry had already gone to bed, Harry rolled over and pinched him.

But there was more.

The spells the War Wizards use on the living dead are useless, said one of Holder’s tight scribbles. Draco could picture her bending over the parchment, her brow furrowed, her lips set in such a prim line that they hurt her face. Only the weapons that Potter and Malfoy have brought back from beyond the grave. It is as I told Gawain. They will be the salvation of us all, and we cannot trust them.

There followed a list of spells the War Wizards had apparently tried to use, which Holder and Robards, or at least Holder, had watched and recorded. Draco was annoyed. He thought a description of why Holder mistrusted him and Harry so much would have been more useful.

There were descriptions of two battlefields where the War Wizards had tried to engage Nihil, cautiously enough that no Muggles had noticed the destruction that resulted. All that had happened, however, was the tearing of the earth and the boiling away of a small stream that ran down one of the nearby hills. Holder was right. Nothing they did, not all their maneuvering and coordination and long training, seemed to affect Nihil.

There were reports of the appearances going down in the last few months. Holder suggested darkly that Nihil was up to something else, but she and Robards had been unable to learn what. Their spies had felt flares of necromancy now and then, but they always seemed to burn out quickly, leaving the spies puzzled.

Draco smiled tightly. We’ve solved that riddle. He’s had Nemo raising those beasts for a short time, although they quickly fade, and then using the energy to create the balls of nothingness. It’s no wonder that he cares more about that than about the small disturbances that he might be able to make with attacks. The balls of nothingness are the things that will actually help him achieve his goals.

And if Robards and Holder had trusted them, they might even have known that.

Draco laid the book aside for the moment—it was late and his eyes were beginning to strain in the faint glow of the Lumos Charm—and pushed into the bed beside Harry, who muttered sleepily and rolled over. Draco put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and closed his eyes, but his mind was occupied with a moral dilemma, one of the few he could remember having. Did he owe enough loyalty to Robards and Holder, as members of the Aurors and people who had to survive in the same world, to tell them the truth about the balls of nothingness and those brief flashes of necromancy? Shouldn’t he be above whatever petty grudge Holder had against them and give the information? Robards and Holder weren’t evil, at least, or on Nihil’s side, if the evidence of the book could be trusted. They might be able to use the knowledge more productively than Draco and Harry could at the moment.

But the dilemma had a simple answer.

I can’t tell the truth to someone who distrusts us so much, someone who wants to turn me into a spy. She’ll only want to know how I learned it, and there’s no way to tell that much without betraying the comitatus, the way we train together, and probably the Aurors who have agreed to help us.

Besides, they would start watching us more closely, and that’s all we need, spies that we don’t know about.

Draco shook his head and closed his eyes. Sometimes he despaired of the Aurors surviving long enough for Nihil to destroy them.

*

“Do you trust me?”

Harry eyed Raverat, waited until the man began to look a bit concerned over his silence, and then said, “Bad things tend to happen whenever someone says that, so my response would be ‘not really.’”

Raverat smiled, but the smile had a tense edge that Harry noticed, even if he couldn’t explain exactly why it was there. “Very well, but I didn’t damage your mind the first time I touched it. I was wondering if you could explain the circumstances to your partner and let me read his mind.”

Harry nodded slowly. The older Aurors had reacted to the news of Nemo’s capture with mingled exultation and concern about Draco. Draco had bristled up like a cat when Portillo Lopez tried to speak with him, though. Harry couldn’t help but think that might be partially his fault. He had moaned so often about how hard Portillo Lopez was to understand and how little he trusted her that it was no wonder Draco wouldn’t listen.

“I suggested that myself,” he said. “Draco simply turns his head away and pretends that he didn’t hear me.”

“Is there anything you can say that would make him listen?” Raverat asked quietly. “We are more than afraid of what might have happened with his mind exposed to Nemo’s. The torture he describes, and the way it matches the description of Granger’s torture, suggests that this is a particular daydream or—or image-construct that Nihil makes use of. Understanding it could let us understand him.”

“What’s an image-construct?” Harry asked. He thought he might know from the name, but he was no longer going to take it for granted that he had found someone who could explain these things to him. He wanted the explanations, please.

Raverat gave, for some reason, an uncomfortable smile. “A hard concept to explain to someone who has not studied the mind,” he murmured.

“I understood your last one.” Harry folded his arms and gave Raverat a stern stare to let him know he wasn’t playing around.

After a moment, Raverat inclined his head in a nod and cleared his throat. “Very well. An image-construct is the embodiment that someone gives to a thought which is very important to him. Usually it’s a picture, often based on memories—the sort of thing that one would encounter when using Legilimency. But people think in different ways, and it can be a sound as well, a smell, or a sensation.”

“How can you embody a thought?” Harry complained. “Thoughts don’t have bodies.”

“Do try to be a little less literal,” Raverat muttered, though with enough of a smile to remove the sting from the words. “By embodying, I mean that the thought takes on a particular form—an association, if you will. Have you ever smelled a food and had it return you to a powerful moment or memory in your life?”

Harry nodded, frowning. He still thought of the Dursleys every time he smelled scrambled eggs and bacon, which had been one of Dudley’s favorite breakfasts.

“Well, the smell is an image-construct of that particular memory,” Raverat continued. “Think of it long enough and the smell itself becomes the important thing. Someone who looks into your mind would smell what you did, if it was prominent enough, and that would become a way of accessing the memory or understanding something about you. The image of removing bones from a body is an image-construct for Nihil, a visual one. He imposes it on others, Granger and Malfoy, and that means it is important. What it stands for, we don’t know yet.”

Harry chewed on that for a moment. He suspected he didn’t understand all the complexities, but he understood enough to be worried.

“Why Hermione, though?” he asked. “She hasn’t had the same kind of personal contact with Nihil’s mind or the minds of his servants that Draco and I have. It seems an odd choice to make her dream about that.”

“I wouldn’t know the answer unless she let me look into her mind,” Raverat said calmly. “But I would rather start with Trainee Malfoy. It seems as though he would have more clarity and resonance in the image, given his close contact with Nemo. Once I know what the image looks like, I would be able to find it in Trainee Granger’s mind with less trouble.”

Harry nodded. “And you need me to persuade him.”

“Unless you think that he will simply allow me to walk up and probe into his mind,” Raverat said dryly, “yes.”

Harry smiled in spite of himself. “I’ll try.”

*

Draco sat stiffly upright in his chair in front of the older Aurors, conscious of the way that Raverat tried to catch his eye. Harry had spoken his words about letting the other man prod his mind with a bright, hopeful smile, as if he thought Draco wouldn’t notice what he was talking about. Draco had refused permission curtly. He had had only a few nightmares like Granger’s so far, despite the several days since they’d captured Nemo, so why should he let someone look into his mind? What purpose could it serve? Let Raverat peer at Granger, who would probably welcome the attention.

You know she would welcome the attention because it might help her solve the problem.

Draco shifted on the seat and told himself that he should pay attention to what Ketchum was saying. Ketchum seemed to be the unofficial leader of the group of Aurors, in much the same way Draco was the leader of the comitatus, and his words worth listening to.

“…must keep this a secret for now,” Ketchum said, looking resigned. He shook his head when Gregory opened her mouth. “I like it no more than you do, that we can’t trust our superiors, but they let Nemo escape once before through sheer carelessness.” Draco held back his snort; Ketchum had been part of the security team that kept Nemo confined in the Ministry, so it was rather rich for him to blame Holder and Robards alone. “We have to keep him this time, and learn as much from him as we can.”

“I wasn’t going to disagree with you,” Gregory snapped. “I was agreeing, rather, and was about to suggest measures we can use to keep from discovery.”

Ketchum, looking chagrined, motioned for Gregory to proceed. Gregory sat up, turning a gaze as bright as lightning on everyone present. Draco was pleased to see that Herricks squirmed under it and lifted his head higher.

“We cannot simply keep Nemo as long as his master will permit us to,” she said without preamble. “The last time, it turned out to be a trap that might easily have killed two of our number.” Draco stared, but Gregory didn’t seem to realize that she’d done anything unusual in referring to him and Harry as real Aurors and proceeded blithely on. “I have found a spell that should cut contact between him and Nihil. If it works the way it’s supposed to,” she added, and then leaned back in her chair and was silent.

“If it cuts every connection,” Granger said, “does that mean that Nemo will simply die or fade away? After all, he seems to depend on Nihil for his existence.”

Draco nodded. He would have asked the same question, but he saw no problem in letting Granger be his voice when it saved him time.

“I don’t know,” said Gregory. “But considering how desperate Nihil will be to recover him if our suspicions about the beasts he raises are true, then I think it worth the risk. We must learn what we can.”

Granger squirmed in her seat, and even Herricks looked ill. Draco suspected they were thinking of Gregory’s potential use of torture, and had to fight not to roll his eyes.

“Yes,” Harry said. “And when he inevitably dies or escapes or gets rescued, then we’ll need to take advantage of other resources to learn about Nihil.” He turned around and stared at Draco.

Draco stared back until he realized that Harry was referring to the way that he wouldn’t let Raverat poke about in his head. He turned away with a sneer. Harry looked distressed, but how was that Draco’s fault? He would be far more uncomfortable if Raverat tried to interfere with him—something Harry didn’t seem to have considered.

“What do you mean?” Gregory demanded.

“Nothing important,” Harry said, with that small, martyred sigh that Draco hated so much. But he wasn’t about to expose weaknesses in the partnership by speaking about them in front of others. He focused on Gregory instead and asked the question that no one else seemed to be interested in asking.

“What kind of spell is this?” he asked. “How do you know that it will work on someone not human, like Nemo?”

Gregory smiled triumphantly. “It was originally developed for use on Dark Lords who linked psychically with their followers,” she said. “Some of them could Apparate their followers from prison cells, read their thoughts, use their senses from a distance, or compel them to assume Animagus form, even against magic that prevented that, so they could escape. The spell cut those connections and decreased the powers of the Dark Lord as well as increased the chance of keeping any particular Death Eat—that is, follower.” Draco was sure her slip of the tongue had been no slip at all, but he maintained an iron expression, and Gregory sighed and continued. “This particular version is powerful enough to block all known connections. We can at least try it.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Herricks asked.

“Then we’ll try something else,” Gregory said, and Draco hid his chuckle at the bottom of his chest. At least he wasn’t the only one who found Herricks intolerable.

“Are there any other questions?” Ketchum was glancing around the room importantly now, as if trying to maintain his leadership position. “If not, then we’ll agree to try Gregory’s spell, and something else if that doesn’t work.”

Both of which we just said and which others are perfectly capable of comprehending, Draco thought in annoyance, but he was too amazed that they had come to some concrete goals to voice his annoyance. He waited until Ketchum repeated a few more things that everyone knew and understood, and then stood up with the rest and made their way towards the front of the tent. The air that blew on them felt like the first breeze of summer, Draco thought.

Someone caught his sleeve. Draco turned, not bothering to keep his face free of irritation, and met Harry’s imploring eyes.

“What?” he snapped.

“Please let Raverat look,” Harry said in a low voice. “It’s painless, I told you. He’s described the process to me, and it doesn’t sound any different from the one that he used to figure out if I was connected to Nihil.”

Draco laughed harshly. “But I’m already connected to Nihil. And Portillo Lopez told me that we should watch you for changes in mood and other signs after your adventure with peering into Nihil’s memories, and nothing like that has happened so far. I don’t know that we need these conclusions from their Order.”

Harry glanced over his shoulder, for all the world as if he were a member of the Order himself and wanted to make sure the others wouldn’t hear. Draco watched him with some contempt. When did Harry become so tender-minded? He was willing to sneak around, lie to the Aurors, and act on their own even when it was dangerous. He was willing to risk his life for Draco’s.

And now it seemed he was willing to do whatever Raverat and Portillo Lopez told him, stupid as those directions were. Draco didn’t understand why, and he suspected that Harry couldn’t explain it to him.

“Let him look and see what new damage the connection to Nemo may have done to you,” Harry murmured instead.

Raverat passed them just then, with a grave look that made Draco draw himself up. He didn’t see why this man had managed to get Harry to trust him. Harry had known Portillo Lopez far longer, had learned more from her, and still seemed to be inclined to view her with a wary eye, but all Raverat had to do was make Harry laugh and he gained his confidence in instants.

“I’m not interested,” Draco said, turning his head away. “I’ll let you know when I am.”

Several of the Aurors glanced at them knowingly, and chuckled. Harry flushed. They probably believed he and Harry had been talking about sex, Draco thought as he gave them an arch glance, and why not? It was frustrating enough that Harry wanted to talk about something that should have been private in front of other people. Let him suffer some of the humiliation himself for once.

“Fine,” Harry said. “But I am going to ask him to talk to Hermione.” He brushed past Draco and hurried off to catch up with Granger.

Draco felt like scowling, but that would also expose too much to people he had no wish to show anything more than necessary to. He settled for raising one eyebrow and returning to their tent to read more of Holder’s book. He reckoned he would learn more than Harry in the same amount of time.

*

“Malfoy won’t agree?” Raverat was bringing a cup of tea to his lips when Harry ducked into his tent, followed by Hermione.

Harry simply shook his head and turned to smile reassuringly at Hermione. She was pale, although she had admitted to Harry that she would do anything at the moment to calm and control the dreams.

“It’s painless,” Harry murmured, and then glanced over his shoulder, suddenly realizing that he didn’t know if perhaps Raverat would have to use a different procedure with her. “This one is, isn’t it?”

“It is,” said Raverat, and smiled at him, and smiled at Hermione. After a moment, he dropped the smile and peered at her closely. “Are you all right?”

“I want these nightmares to go away,” Hermione said, loud and distinct, and sat down on the edge of the chair.

“If I learn what causes them, or what they mean to Nihil, then I may be able to make them do so,” said Raverat, and moved his own chair nearer Hermione. Harry hesitated; the only other pieces of furniture in the room were the bed and the table. He decided that he could lean against the table. Sitting on the bed would have unfortunate implications, and considering Harry’s success with Draco lately, he would probably walk through the tent flap in the next instant.

Hermione closed her eyes and relaxed her breathing much more successfully than Harry had, he thought. Raverat did look strange moving his fingers around her head like the branches of a palm tree and asking question after question, some of them loud and short and sharp, others in a dreamy voice. It had to be a different kind of thing than he’d done with Harry, of course, since Harry didn’t have to talk. But Hermione wasn’t crying out in pain, so Harry watched it go on.

Now and then he tried to catch a glimpse of the aura around a person’s head that Raverat had talked about, but it didn’t seem possible to do without special training.

Finally, Hermione caught her breath and sat there without breathing for so long that Harry started to get concerned. But Raverat leaned back with a smile and announced, “I think I know what it means.”

Hermione released her breath and blinked. Harry waited, but when Raverat didn’t go on, just sat there with a quietly shining face, he asked in irritation, “Well, what?”

“That Nihil is using the image of stripping bones from a body as an expression of extreme happiness,” said Raverat. “These nightmares only started affecting you this season, didn’t they, Trainee Granger? Not in the winter, when Nihil destroyed the barracks, or even shortly after?”

Hermione shook her head. She looked better than she had looked for weeks, Harry thought, and he felt a bit of guilt. If he had known that just being able to offer Hermione a concrete answer would do this, then he would have tried harder to find one.

And how could you have, without Raverat’s special training? Yes, you could make a guess, but there would be no way of proving it true.

Harry took a deep breath of his own and released it unnoticed by the other two. Draco sometimes said he shouldn’t be so hard on himself. Well, Harry was trying.

“No,” Hermione said. “It only started in the spring. Do you think it could have something to do with the balls of nothingness and that he thinks he’s close to finding a way to destroy the world, sir?” Her eyes shone, and from the way her hands reached out, then fell back in her lap and clenched her robes, Harry thought she was regretting not having brought anything along to write with.

Raverat nodded. “Almost certainly. And these images are not ones that he would wish to broadcast, I think. They are side-effects of his joy, which is so great that he can’t contain it. Of course,” he added, with a smile that Harry thought was close to smug, “he couldn’t have known that we would find someone capable of reading the images and discerning what was going on, either.”

“All right,” Hermione said slowly, and now there was a pinched line between her eyebrows. “But why am I feeling this in the first place, sir? After all, I haven’t been in contact with Nihil the way Harry is, and this started before we found the ball of nothingness, so it couldn’t have happened just from being near it.”

Raverat leaned forwards and placed a finger gently on Hermione’s forehead, between her eyes. Harry saw her eyes cross trying to focus on it. “For a simple reason,” Raverat said. “You are a Seer, or a potential one, and we are always more sensitive to such disturbances.”

There was a long silence, while Harry stared and Hermione’s face shone with some complicated mixture of joy, disbelief, and anger. Then Hermione started asking questions that flew so fast Harry only understood half of them, and Raverat started patiently answering them.

Well, Harry thought, still wrapped in his own version of the silence. I reckon that Raverat might not need to study Draco after all.