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Learning Life Over	By : Meander Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 69712 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Thanks again for the reviews! As usual, I�ve answered those
that have questions at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 10- The Worst Reason For Covering His Scar Ever

�� Harry ate
breakfast with one eye on Draco. He was sure that today, the third day of their
bargain, was going to contain something of spectacular awfulness. Yesterday
after the picnic had been spent flying, with Draco even joining him in an
impromptu Quidditch game (which Harry had won, of course). It had been a day
that Harry could almost have imagined sharing with a friend.

�� Save for
the moment when they got off their brooms at sunset, of course, and Draco had
pulled Harry close and just stood there with him, his back to Harry�s chest,
one arm curled around him, forcing him to feel the hardness of another man�s
muscles and the insistent pressure of a male body. He hadn�t said anything, nor
removed Harry�s never-deadening charm again. He�d just stood there, and made
the moment so intimate that Harry hadn�t felt able to interrupt, either.

�� Harry had
reminded himself seventy-five times last evening that he was not gay. And so
far this morning had been even more normal, with Draco dividing his attention
between him and the Daily Prophet and Harry�s self-reminders declining.
This meant, so far as Harry was concerned, that the awfulness would begin at
any moment.

�� When it
did, he didn�t recognize it at first. Draco aimed his wand at him and muttered
something under his breath, so casual that only the length of the incantation
gave it away as a complicated spell.

��

�� Harry cried
out as his vision blurred. He heard Draco snort. �Honestly, Harry. You still
think I�m going to hurt you in any way that�s not entirely consensual?� he
said.

�� I find it
strange that you think I would enjoy pain,� said Harry, and removed his
glasses, since he assumed Draco had cast a fogging charm on them. �Even if I
did, I would be exploring it with a woman, not- �

�� And then he
stopped, when he realized that he could see perfectly well without the glasses.
In fact, he could see better than he ever had in his life. His vision sparkled,
and the air around him was as bright and clear as if it had never been
disturbed. He stared, taking in details from the color of the far wall to the
inlay on the table.

�� Draco
snared his attention by leaning forward and capturing his chin between thumb
and forefinger. Harry stared at him, and let himself be stared at. He had never
realized there was that much to see in a human face.

�� Beautiful,�
Draco said softly. �You should have corrected your vision a long time ago,
Harry. Your eyes shine without those glasses.� His thumb slowly moved
over Harry�s cheek, as if he would urge his lips into a smile.

�� Harry
pulled away, blushing and wincing both at once. �Stop saying things like that,
Malfoy.�

�� Why?�
Draco said, and his voice still had that same softness. Harry was sure that the
awful part of the day was in full motion now. �Does it embarrass you to hear
that you�re beautiful, Harry? Just because no one�s noticed it the past few
years doesn�t mean you�re ugly. You were working very hard to keep them from
noticing.� He reached out and managed to stroke Harry�s hair before he moved
far enough away to make that impossible, too. �Or do you not like hearing it
because compliments are part of that life you tried so hard to leave behind,
the life where you lived like a normal person?�

�� This- this
isn�t normal,� Harry argued. �To suddenly have your vision corrected and then
be paid compliments by your schoolboy rival.�

�� We�re not
schoolboys now, Harry.�

�� Damn it,
how does he keep turning ridiculously safe comments into innuendo? Harry
gave a shudder and shook his head. It�s probably my problem. His voice just
affects me too much. But I am not gay. I know that.

�� Why
correct my vision now?� he demanded. �Why not the moment you captured me?�

�� I would
have liked to,� Draco said, �but it wasn�t urgent until now.� He pointed his
wand again, and Harry went for his own, but he wasn�t fast enough to counter
Draco�s spell, which caused an odd tingling coolness in the middle of his
forehead. �There,� Draco pronounced. �And now your scar is covered, too. Your
scar and glasses were practically iconic, Harry, you know. I don�t think most
people know what you look like without them, especially after eleven years. You
can meet Theresa and she won�t have any idea who you are.�

�� I thought
you said all your friends I�d meet did know who I was,� Harry said,
backing up and keeping his wand in between them.

�� Oh,
Theresa isn�t a friend, as such,� said Draco, giving him a faint smile. �She�s
a Healer with St. Mungo�s, who�s done some private work for the Malfoy family
in the past.�

�� Harry
frowned. �I really don�t think anything is wrong with me, Malfoy, given the way
I flew yesterday- �

�� Draco,
Harry. And no, I didn�t suggest anything was wrong with you physically.� Draco
cocked his head as if waiting for Harry to make an obvious connection, but
Harry just stared at him, befuddled. Draco sighed. �Theresa is a therapist,
Harry. Specifically, she has experience with survivor�s guilt and emotional
repression, depression- �

�� No,�
Harry snarled. He didn�t care if his magic did rattle the door in its frame. He
was not sitting down to some session with an interfering Healer. He�d mostly
fooled them after he killed Voldemort, making them think he didn�t need any
help, and still there had been a few persistent ones who had asked him again
and again if he wanted to talk, until he perfected his act. Someone coming in
forewarned about that- �No,� he said again.

�� Draco
shrugged. �Then I�ll keep you here indefinitely, Harry. Since you�re breaking
your side of the bargain already, calling me by my last name, and I want you
very badly, it�ll be no trouble to have you in Malfoy Manor until you can�t
imagine leaving.�

�� Harry felt
a spark of panic. Even worse than the thought of facing a Healer was the
thought of losing the battle with Malfoy, and just giving in to the �lessons�
he proposed, as if they were normal.

�� You said
that you would give this a chance,� Draco said quietly. �All she knows is that
your name is Harry, and that you lost your whole family in a Death Eater raid
eleven years ago and have repressed it since. That�s all.�

�� I didn�t
repress it,� Harry said, glaring at Draco through his fringe. �I was living.�

�� Draco
didn�t bother justifying that with an answer, simply arched an eyebrow.

�� Harry
closed his eyes. �Won�t she drag the truth out of me?� he asked, in what he
knew was a last attempt to protest this.

�� Even if
she does,� said Draco, �the room you�re going to meet her in is bespelled. She
won�t be able to talk to anyone outside the Manor walls about what happens
here.� He must have come closer while Harry was brooding, because suddenly his
hand was on Harry�s shoulder, and then he slid down beside him and gathered him
in a loose embrace. �Please,� he whispered, his breath warm on Harry�s ear.
�I�m only doing this because I didn�t think you would talk to me about them.
Otherwise, I would have kept it private. I want it private as much as
you do, Harry. I want to be the one you tell your pain to and relax around. But
I can�t do that, and I have to help you. So please talk to her.�

�� Harry took
several deep, steadying breaths. The presence of a warm body at his back
helped, especially when he made himself think of it as a body and not Draco.
And he had to remember that no one could make him be cooperative. Be
prickly and surly with the therapist, make her run away screaming the way he�d
essentially done with Narcissa Malfoy, and Draco couldn�t even blame him.

�� All
right,� he said.

*

�� Harry met
Theresa in a far-too-pale room in the center of Malfoy Manor, or so Harry
assumed from the number of halls and chambers they crossed through to get
there. Harry glared at the cool blue walls. He would have preferred red or
gold.

�� Then he
realized that those would have roused memories of Gryffindor Tower, and dragged
the people associated with that place to the surface of his mind, and he was
just as grateful for the bland room.

�� It had a
large enchanted window off to the side that looked onto an impossible view of
the Malfoy gardens, and through which Harry knew Draco would be watching. The
only furniture in the room was a pair of white chairs, set in the center and
looking extraordinarily comfortable. Harry prowled back and forth behind one,
unwilling to sit down until the Healer entered.

�� She came in
through the far door, giving him a nod as though they�d met before, which of
course they hadn�t. Harry bristled, then told himself that his task here was to
be charming and absolutely maddening at the same time. He forced out a bright,
chirpy smile, and said, �Theresa?�

�� Yes.� She
smiled at him. She was probably a generation older than he was, showing her age
more than Mrs. Malfoy, and her brown hair was curly and worn to her shoulders.
She had pale, pleasant blue eyes that Harry wouldn�t have looked at twice if
he�d met her in Diagon Alley, never guessing that behind them hid the cunning
mind of an enemy. Her robes where pale, but shapeless, without the St. Mungo�s
emblem. Harry wanted to kick himself for feeling grateful for that.

�� Harry.� He
crossed the room to take her hand, drawing on lessons he�d learned when he
couldn�t tell a witness he was an Auror. Project an air of confidence. Show
that you�re comfortable here and expect them to feel the same way. Maintain eye
contact gently, naturally.

�� Theresa
shook his hand, and then nodded to the chairs. �Should we sit down, Harry, and
begin?�

�� Harry
shrugged carelessly, and crossed over to the chair he�d been walking behind
before. �If you wish, Theresa. I�m afraid you�ve been summoned for nothing,
however. I don�t carry survivor�s guilt. I�m sorry to waste your time.� He
collapsed into his chair as if boneless and arched an eyebrow at her.

�� Oh, dear,�
said Theresa, and arranged her robes comfortably. �Well, in that case I would
enjoy a spot of tea and conversation before I go back to St. Mungo�s, Harry.
Would you care to provide the tea? I assume that you�d know the Malfoy Manor
house-elves better than I do, since you are a guest here.�

�� Harry
barely kept himself from staring. She probably expected him to fall into the
casual game and trust her because of her acting. Well, he wouldn�t.

�� Of
course,� he said, and cleared his throat. �Trippy!�

�� The
house-elf appeared with a tray of scones and two cups of tea before he finished
speaking her name. Harry blinked and accepted his own cup, eyeing Theresa over
the lip of it as he sipped.

�� Mr. Malfoy
rarely makes a mistake quite this big,� the Healer said, when she�d
eaten part of a scone and closed her eyes in satisfaction over the tea several
times. �Could you tell me what made him think that you had survivor�s guilt?�

�� With an
effort, Harry kept his muscles from tensing, and rolled his eyes. �My family
did die in a Death Eater raid. That much is true. And Draco just doesn�t think
I�m mourning them in the right way.�

�� Theresa�s
face softened. �Well, I have been prey to the unrealistic expectations of
friends myself,� she said. �How often do you visit their graves, Harry?�

�� Well,
now you have to lie. You can do that, though. Of course you can. Harry
ignored the uneasy feeling in the center of his chest, that he was disgracing
the Weasleys, Hermione, Remus, and Fleur by doing so, and shrugged. �Every
month. He thinks I should go every week or so.�

�� And you�ve
formed new friendships, of course? New interests?� Theresa gave him a teasing
smile. �A girlfriend, perhaps? I know that a lot of the young people were in a
hurry to settle down and have children after the war, but you look like someone
who likes his freedom.�

�� I do,�
said Harry, relieved that the conversation was turning in this direction. �I�m
not in a hurry to rush into a family. I mostly enjoy helping others.� There.
I can tell her part of the truth and still make her think I�m perfectly
recovered. �I�m an Auror, actually, and the best part of the job is being
able to tell people that they�re safe now, or that at least the murderer of
their loved one has been brought to justice.�

�� Theresa
nodded. �I�m sure that your parents would be proud of you, Harry.�

�� Harry had
to look away. �I like to think so,� he said earnestly. �They- they knew the
meaning of sacrifice.� With an effort, he kept his hand from rising to rub his
forehead.

�� And is
being an Auror a sacrifice, then, Harry?� Theresa murmured.

�� Harry
snapped his head up, his eyes narrowing. How did I let myself forget she was
an enemy? Pleasant words and an interest in me don�t mean that she actually
cares. She�s here to root out my secrets, a ferret set on me by a ferret, and
I�m here to keep that from happening. I don�t need therapy. I just have to
prove that.

�� Of course
not,� he said. �But my parents died during the war.� Not a lie, technically.
�They knew their lives were in danger.� Not a lie, either. �They knew
the meaning of sacrifice.�

�� I�m still
not sure how,� Theresa murmured, her brow furrowing. �Were they Aurors, too,
Harry?�

�� Harry
relaxed. �Yes. Or, at least, my father was,� he had to add. He still didn�t
know that much about his mother.

�� What did
your mother do?�

�� Harry
winced. Died protecting me, and insured I survived the Killing Curse, and
really earned all the praise that people give me. �Well, she was an Auror�s
wife, of course. That meant she knew that he might not come back someday. But
she loved him anyway, and me. I think she would have been proud of me, if
that�s what you�re leading back to.�

�� Your
siblings?�

�� I had
seven,� Harry whispered. Technically, counting Hermione, whom he had loved like
a sister, Ron, and his brothers, and not Ginny- his love for her had been
different- that was true. But he could tell by the shocked look on Theresa�s
face that he might have done better to lie about the number.

�� I don�t
want to lie about them, though. That�s the thing. It felt too hot in the
room. But that probably came from drinking too much tea, Harry told himself. He
set his teacup firmly aside.

�� Harry,�
Theresa said, when she�d recovered her voice. �That is a major loss. I can see
why Mr. Malfoy thinks that you have survivor�s guilt. That is too many
different relationships to lose all at once without damage.� Her voice was soft
with compassion.

�� Harry
stirred restlessly. �I didn�t- I mean, some of them were older than I was. I
didn�t know them all as well as I would have liked.�

�� But they
were your siblings.�

�� Harry
looked away. �I did lie,� he said tightly. �I was an only child.�

�� Then why
lie and tell me that you had seven siblings?� Theresa sounded honestly
bewildered now. �That�s a very specific number.� She paused. �Were they friends
instead? Did you lose that many, along with your parents, in a raid? I can see
why Mr. Malfoy is worried, Harry. That�s a large portion of your world to have
destroyed all at once, and he did tell me that you�d never been a patient at
St. Mungo�s for therapy before. Did anyone talk to you about this?�

�� Harry
closed his eyes and gave in to the old impulse, bringing his hand to his scar.
�I�m not- I don�t want to do this, Theresa,� he said.

�� She sighed.
�I could tell that you were lying to me, Harry,� she said. �We�re taught to
watch for that. The way your eyes continually went off to the right and up
indicated that you had to make up a story, and it wasn�t one that sounded
practiced, either. I am tempted to think that Mr. Malfoy�s suspicions were
correct, unless you can convince me otherwise.�

�� What does
it matter?� Harry was afraid that his plans were falling in ruins around
him, but suddenly nothing was so important as the Healer�s answer to this
question. He flared his eyes open and dropped his hand from his forehead so
that he could look at her directly. �You don�t- it was eleven years ago.
I�ve survived it and gone on. It doesn�t matter to anyone but me.�

�� You�re
wrong, Harry,� said Theresa. �It matters to me. And it matters to Mr. Malfoy. I
know that much.�

�� Harry
clenched his hands. �I don�t want to talk about it,� he said. �I don�t ever
want to talk about it.�

�� But if he
didn�t, then Draco practically had license to keep him here indefinitely. That
would keep him away from his job and the one thing that made his life
worthwhile.

�� But he
couldn�t say anything about it. It was buried. He was the only one alive now
who�d known all of them. Hermione�s parents had grieved, but they had done
their grieving in private and far from him, since, after all, he was the one
who�d been the cause of it. Fleur�s parents must have grieved, though Harry had
never known them. And they had surely lived their own lives since, the way
Harry had done.

�� It wasn�t-

�� He couldn�t
tear this open.

�� And he
couldn�t let Draco keep him here, either.

�� Harry?�
Theresa�s hand was on his arm.

�� Harry moved
quickly, falling into instincts he�d learned during Auror training, and, before
that, practiced and honed in the war. In a moment, he had his wand in hand, and
he�d cast a Body-Bind on Theresa. Then he wheeled towards the window beyond
which Draco was watching, closed his eyes, and cast the spell in that
direction, too, imagining it holding him still with all the force of his will.
If his mouth was held shut, Draco couldn�t call the house-elves.

�� Harry ran
for the door Theresa had come in by and yanked it open, then held his wand out
on his palm. �Point Me Auror Wormwood,� he snapped. He could be sure
his partner wasn�t in Malfoy Manor, and that meant he should be able to find
his way out of this maze by locating him.

�� The wand
spun twice, then pointed to the left down the hall. Harry turned grimly in that
direction.

�� He was
going to escape. Draco couldn�t force him into this twisted parody of a prison
if Harry didn�t let him. He should never have let it get this far in the first
place.

�� He was
going to escape.

*****

�� SLQ: As you
can see, yes, all the Weasleys are dead. And Harry is doing something about his
captivity, though it is assuredly not something he planned on at first. And
Draco is even doing something beyond cementing his bond with Harry to help him
recover, though, um, well, you can see how well that worked.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Learning Life Over