Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Siege Mentality	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7869 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; that belongs to J. K. Rowling. I am making no money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Part X. Control.

�� I don�t
like this.�

�� Harry
smiled a little, but kept his eyes on the book in front of him. �It says that
one of your ancestors, Jupiter Black, learned to control his gift by shifting
himself into a volcano, and almost dying,� he said. �I don�t think we want to
imitate that method of instruction.�

�� Draco
half-choked, half-laughed. �Of course not!�

�� The
laughter had been what Harry was looking for. Draco was so tense, so afraid
that he would make a mistake, that he was all the more likely to end up making
one. Harry remembered the phase of Auror training when he had been convinced
that he couldn�t do anything right, and so of course he couldn�t. He didn�t
want that to become a self-fulfilling prophecy for Draco, too.

�� Right,� he
said. �Then we�ll work with the way that your very distant ancestor, Reglia
Black, trained her gift. That seems to be where the Metamorphmagus gene and its
variants came from, anyway, when she married into the family.� He shut the book
with a snap and moved over to stand in front of Draco, absently noting how
large his pupils were. Even like this, half out of his mind with fear, Harry
thought, he looked good.

�� Should you
have shut the book?� Draco whispered. �What if you forget something? What if
you don�t tell me to do something exactly right and I do something stupid and
wrong instead? I don�t like this. I wish you would look at the book. How do you
know how to train me from looking at accounts of Metamorphmagi, anyway? I don�t
like this.� It was the same monologue Harry had heard him muttering desperately
to himself last night, when he had thought Harry was asleep.

�� Draco.�
Harry clasped Draco�s shoulders and made the other man really look at him. �Do you trust me?�

�� Draco
swallowed and nodded.

�� Do you
trust my research skills?� Harry looked into his eyes and waited when he
hesitated. �I can let you do the research on your own, confirm what I found. We
can delay a few days if you�re more comfortable doing that.�

�� I�I trust
you.� Draco reached out with a faltering hand and gripped Harry�s. �Just�just tell
me why you can figure out how to train my gift from looking at the accounts of
how Metamorphmagi were trained in the past. They�re different kinds of gifts. I
know they are.�

�� Because your
ancestors actually did include some instructions on that,� said Harry. �They
just disguised it with the language they used. When I saw an entry that was
supposedly about a Metamorphmagus but had words like where and place underlined,
then I knew what they were talking about. They used odd metaphors, too, like
the landscape of Metamorphmagery.� He
gently turned Draco around so that he was facing the far wall of the library. �I
won�t let anything happen to you,� he whispered into Draco�s ear. �I wouldn�t
even have suggested this if I didn�t trust that book completely.�

�� Draco
smiled and leaned back towards him. Harry was aware that the smile was
distinctly tremulous, but the words were
brave. �I�m not used to having anyone to depend on. It�s�frightening. At least
when I was running through the world by myself, I knew at once when something
was within my capacities. I knew my limits. I just don�t know yours as well.�
He was whispering by the time he finished. From the sound of his voice, his
throat was tight.

�� I know,�
Harry whispered into his ear, keeping his voice low and soothing. He didn�t
want, not for one moment, for Draco to think that Harry somehow scorned him because
he was afraid. The only sensible thing,
he thought, was to be afraid. �Do you know how long it took me to learn to work
together with another Auror, instead of relying on myself in every situation? Too long. I know that damn good and
well.� He stroked his hands in reassuring motions up and down Draco�s
shoulders. �It drove Ron mad.�

�� Draco
laughed again, and slowly, slowly the shoulders Harry was holding sank into a
smooth, relaxed state.

�� You have
to calm down,� Harry said, in the causal voice that Ron had said helped him
concentrate on learning new spells. It worked better than the monotone most of
their Auror instructors had used, at least. Harry wanted Draco to be focused on
one thing, one process, not lulled into a trance. �The first step is
controlling the size of your change, so that you don�t extend your new lands into
places they aren�t supposed to go. Look at the wall. Consider the size of it.
Just consider for right now. That�s all.�

�� Draco
licked his lips, and his breathing gradually slowed.

�� Tell me
when you think you have the size of the wall estimated,� Harry ordered.

�� I think I
have it.� Draco�s voice was a little strained, but it was calmer than it had
been since they walked into the library.

�� Good.�
Harry closed his hands down, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to remind
Draco he was there, and raised his voice slightly. �Then concentrate on
changing the wall into a landscape.�

�� What kind
of landscape?� Draco asked, his voice skirling back up the scale towards panic
again.

�� Anything
you want.� Harry lowered his voice again; he thought Draco needed its
influence. �That�s what your gift is for. For bringing you to the places that
you imagine, rather than real places.
Metamorphmagi are limited. They become real people, most of the time. They confine
themselves to imitation. But you can
create, Draco. I do envy you.�

�� As he had
thought it might, the mention of envy did the trick. It would be a familiar
emotion to Draco, at least from other people. He stood up straighter and fixed
all his attention on the wall.

�� Harry
stroked his shoulders lovingly, moved close enough that his chest touched Draco�s
spine and he would be transported with him if something accidentally happened,
and waited.

*

�� A landscape. Anything I want.

�� Strangely,
for long moments Draco�s heard only whirled with images of the places he had
already visited. The deep forest might be a lovely place without the creatures
hunting him; the desert could be glorious in the cool twilight�

�� But why
should he confine himself there? Harry had said that he was envious, and that
made Draco want to show him what he had to be envious of, so that then he could
delight Harry by sharing it instead of keeping it for himself. He focused in,
concentrated, and began to shape the wall into a landscape.

�� He thought
about motion, darkness alternating with leaping light. And a moment later the
surface of the wall began to surge and shiver, and then small rippling motions
spread across it, traveling from the ceiling to the floor. Draco laughed aloud
and threw more color into it. He wanted the top ripples purple, the bottom ones
green�

�� But then
the wall began to bulge and expand, and he realized that the landscape was
trying to extend further than the limits he had put on it.

�� He nearly
panicked. What would happen if that formless movement reached him and Harry?
What if they plunged into an abyss and never returned? Draco hadn�t thought
about what was under the movement
yet. He just knew what he wanted and had begun to create it.

�� Don�t
panic.� Harry spoke directly into his ear, his presence a shock nearly as great
as the sudden change of the landscape, but his hands steady and firm on Draco�s
shoulders. �You can control this, but you�ll lose control if you�re feeling
fear instead of mastery.� His hands began to move up and down Draco�s arms
again. �Why shouldn�t you master it? This magic is in the world because of you.
It�s supposed to obey you.�

�� Draco
swallowed. �But I don�t know how to control it,� he whispered. There was purple
dripping like paint now onto the carpet of the library; the formless color lapped
hungrily at the edges of the bookshelves that flanked the wall. �I can�t tell
it to just obey me��

�� Why not?�
Harry�s voice was on the edge of laughter. �Why shouldn�t you tell it exactly
that? How did you learn to control your magic?�

�� That�s
what I�m trying to learn right now!� Draco yelled, taking a step back as
curlicues of curious blue reached for his legs.

�� No, I
meant, how did you learn to control your ordinary magic, your wand magic?�
Harry spoke in a calm and rational voice still, even as he and Draco both
hopped backwards to avoid the spreading pool. �Did you have to consciously
think about directing it through the wand core? Or did you think about what you
wanted, focus on the incantation, and cast that way?�

�� Draco understood
what Harry was saying then. It hadn�t been conscious, had it? Of course not. He
had concentrated, but it had been far more like using a limb. He didn�t know
every step of the process, but he didn�t need to know.

�� Back!� he
yelled at the pool, exactly as he had yelled at his wand to produce sparks when
he first handled it in Ollivander�s shop.

�� And the
pool shuddered and ground to a halt, as Draco envisioned it doing so. He had to
think of the magic as a part of his body; well, he would do that. He pushed with his mind and his body,
taking a step forwards. Harry moved with him again, draping himself around
Draco�s shoulders like a heated cloak, and the pool began to shrink to a
dazzling pinpoint in the middle of the pale wall.

�� You�re
doing so well, Draco,� Harry murmured into his ear. And Draco�s heart was high
and his head and his blood were pounding with excitement, and he focused again
and finally added the substance he had dreamed of to the swirling chaos.

�� The color
became water. Draco was gazing at the most beautiful ocean he had ever seen,
far more appealing than the cold gray sea that he had ridden more than once to
Azkaban. He infused it with strength and color, tints of violet and blue that
he remembered from seeing photographs of the Mediterranean and some other
ocean. And then he pushed it further into dazzling beauty, taking all the
shades of water from his mind that he had longed to locate in the real world
and had never been able to.

�� A moment
later, the distinct sound of water crashing against sand came to them, and the
voices of gulls. Draco grinned. He could vaguely remember adding them to the
picture in his head, because everyone knew that an ocean should have seabirds
and sand, but he hadn�t consciously imagined them.

�� Well done,
Draco!� Harry said, hugging him. �But�watch out!�

�� A wave had
leaped out from the wall and was hovering over their heads, whilst the rest of
its comrades were trying to overwhelm the shelves. Draco knew he had lost track
of the size of the wall again.

�� He focused
on the water, and on the presence of Harry�s fingers clinging to him as if for
protection�though he knew they were giving strength as much as receiving it�and
drove his mind in another hard plunge forwards. The water stopped broadening
and wavered from side to side like someone jogging a fishbowl back and forth.
Draco took a deep breath; this took more effort than he had thought it would,
and sweat blossomed on his forehead.

�� Do you
need to let go and relax for a little while?� Harry whispered into his ear. �Dismiss
the water? Or can you take us through?� He reached down and clasped Draco�s
hand as if he didn�t want to be left behind, no matter what the decision.

�� Draco took
strength from those last words, too. Harry wanted them to go through, which
meant Harry thought he could do this. He bowed his head as if against a strong
wind and stepped forwards.

�� The world
around them shook and shimmered like a curtain with gold beading. Draco found
himself holding his breath, and then wondered why he had to. The ocean wasn�t
going to drown them. It was in front of them, but he controlled its size and forced it to lie down when the waves
wanted to rise and cascade across their heads.

�� There was a
dizzying moment of transition when both of them stepped in and then fell, the
tilted view of the wall leaping and twisting in front of them�

�� And then
they were standing on a beach of white sand, with the waves sinking back in
front of them and the dazzling white birds that Draco had heard and imagined
but not seen whirling around their heads. Harry was still behind him, his hands
on Draco�s shoulders as warm as the sand under his feet.

�� Draco
laughed aloud.

*

�� Harry
looked around carefully. The ocean scene in front of them was as perfect as any
he�d ever seen�not that he�d seen many, since tropical oceans were in short
supply in Britain and the few holidays he�d taken were usually in the country. There might always be a
Dark magic emergency that meant he had to rush back, and that was easier to do
if he wasn�t on the other side of the world.

�� But it
became flat and thick at the corners, like a painting with the paint run and
muddled. And Harry had to admit that he was concerned about where they were, now that Draco had
created a beach for them to step onto as well as the flat vision of the water.
Were they within the wall of Malfoy Manor? Was water soaking into the carpet of
the library, drizzling the books?

�� Then he
shook his head. He was thinking, again, like someone who didn�t understand
Draco�s ability. The books had explained this to him; he just had to keep the
words and magical theories in his mind, rather than lapsing into absolute trust
of his senses. The Manor was a creation of Draco�s imagination, as much as this
scene was. If he wanted to widen the walls enough to accommodate an ocean, then
he could. And if the ocean was �lapping� into the library, then the books weren�t
hurt; they were transformed into part of the sea, not destroyed. It was a true
change Draco worked, just like the way that a Metamorphmagus or Animagus changed
himself. The �true features� weren�t under Sirius�s fur when he was a dog; he actually
had to transform back to human for anyone to see that he was Sirius Black.

�� And Draco
could change this ocean scene back into the Manor.

�� If he wants to.

�� Harry took
a deep breath. Now that Draco had achieved such stunning success with the first
part of controlling his gift- much more, Harry had to admit, than he had
thought Draco would be capable of the first time he tried- what he still needed
to do was find a way to return to the real world, to the consensus reality that
wasn�t part of his imagination. And Harry thought he knew a way to instruct him
in that, but it would take even more trust than Draco had shown so far.

�� Draco,� he
said.

�� Draco, who
had pulled away from him to chase a gull, turned around with a faint frown on
his face. He had probably decided, from the tone of Harry�s voice, that this
wasn�t going to be simple praise for what he�d done. �Yeah?� he asked. A breeze
from the sea, suddenly starting, lifted his hair away from his brow. Harry
found himself smiling in spite of the seriousness of the situation, and Draco
relaxed and smiled back.

�� I do love
you,� Harry said, keeping his voice calm as he had before, when first urging Draco
to change the wall. �I am proud of you. But you know that we�re going to have
to return to the reality that contains the Ministry and Ron and all the rest of
them?�

�� Weasley?�
Draco wrinkled his nose and cocked his head. �Must we? A world without his
presence wouldn�t change much, and it would be close to perfect.�

�� Harry
smiled, but didn�t laugh. �Do you think you can do that?� he asked. �You�ve been
in worlds of your creation for so long, and I don�t know how to control this
magic. I�m entirely at your mercy.� Draco half-frowned, as if he couldn�t
decide how he felt about that. �You�ll have to be the one who locates a map or
compass to guide us back.�

�� Draco
looked away from him and stared at the sand for long moments. �I want to do it,�
he whispered. �But you were the one who guided me to get here. I don�t know how
to get back to the real world if you don�t guide me there as well.�

�� Oh, no you don�t. Harry felt the enthusiastic
response to that suggestion from within himself. He would like nothing more
than to guide Draco�

�� Except that
he couldn�t protect him all the time, and he worried that Draco would become
dependent on him if he protected him too much. Draco had spent months running from
enemies. Yes, he was afraid still. Yes, he needed someone who would stand by
his side and never hurt him as the creatures had done; yes, he needed someone
he could trust absolutely.

�� But for all
that, he was the true expert here. Harry knew much more about Dark Arts than
wild magic. And the slender clues the books had given him weren�t much help.
Most of the people with this gift had been born with it and had learned how to
use as they learned how to use their wand magic and their muscles. Harry and
Draco would be following Draco�s instincts, again.

�� A
Metamorphmagus becomes the person they were born as by remembering what they
used to be,� said Harry. �The shape of their faces, the color of their eyes,
the length of their hair. I think you need to remember the place you grew up
in.�

�� I did,�
Draco said, and the frown deepened, and he moved away from Harry as if he
actually couldn�t bear to stay near him. Harry stifled the immediate defensive
reaction that caused and waited. �And all I did was create somewhere I
imagined. I can�t remember the Manor without idealizing it.�

�� Then I�ll
help you.� And Harry felt a rush of relief overcome him, because this was a
legitimate way to help; it wasn�t taking Draco�s independence and agency away
from him. He closed his eyes and put his wand to his temple. They didn�t have a
Pensieve with them, and he didn�t want to tax Draco�s abilities to create one.
Nor was he any good at Legilimency. But the Aurors had developed spells that
would get around those problems, especially when there was important
information to be shared between partners.

�� Conmunico memoriam,� he whispered.

�� The world
around him rippled and wavered, but that was because he had his eyes shut and
not�he thought�because Draco had lost control of the magic that shaped his
place. The memory of how he had seen Malfoy Manor during the war slid down his
wand and hung, dripping, at the end. Harry turned his wand so that it aimed at
Draco. He didn�t have to open his eyes to do that. He thought he would know
what direction Draco was standing in, what expression he wore, and where he was
for the rest of his life.

�� Conmunico,� he repeated.

�� The memory shot
away from him and into Draco�s mind.

*

�� Draco
swallowed when he realized what was happening, but he remained still. Of course
he trusted Harry, and it was time that he showed that as profoundly as Harry
had showed it when he followed Draco into world after world of his own
creation.

�� The memory
flew towards him like a scattershot of silver. Draco kept himself calm as he
watched it come by reciting the details of the Memory-Sharing Spell in his
mind. It was much more limited than a Pensieve, because it would only share a
few scattered instants or glimpses, instead of a series of moments linked together
in narrative fashion. But sometimes the scattered instants or glimpses were all
that was needed�

�� The memory
struck his face, clung there like a spluttering, shimmering film for a few
moments, and then sank into him.

�� And he saw
Malfoy Manor as Harry had seen it when he was dragged there by the Death
Eaters, walls tilting crazily, dungeons locking him in when all he wanted to do
was go and save Hermione from torture at the hands of Bellatrix, Draco�s own
face in the middle of it pale and awful, the fear of Voldemort weighing him
down and crowding him and staining Draco�s beloved home with a tarnish that
only his love of and regard for Draco in the present would have allowed him to
put aside�

�� Draco
shivered, and shouted, and sucked the memory into his head and pieced it
together with the warm rooms he remembered, the sanctuary of his bed where he
lay reading about the adventures of the Calm Light Wizard when he was sick, the
swaying white curtains that his mother loved to stand in and gaze between, the
sight of sunshine falling through the large stained glass windows in the
drawing room�

`�� He saw it
as he might have seen a picture of Harry acting as an Auror. That was a piece
of Harry that Draco had little desire to share, but he acknowledged it as real
and knew that Harry�s instincts for protection and power might not have been as
honed as if he didn�t fight Dark wizards. Harry was both that fighter and the friend
and lover of one former Death Eater. And Malfoy Manor was the home of Draco�s
childhood and the place Harry remembered as a dungeon.

�� And Draco
reached out, sticking the pieces together, groping, flinging the invisible,
flowing shape of a house through space, draping the loop around first one and
then another building, seeking, seeking, seeking.

�� And
finding.

�� Harry
lunged forwards, wrapping his arms around Draco, just as the world melted, and
dissolved, and they tumbled.

�� And behind
the world Draco had created, ocean and sand, was another world, one stronger,
firmer, that did not rock on its foundations when he tried to move it. Within
it was the building he had found, firming minute by minute, and it reeled Harry
and Draco towards it like a fisherman using a line.

�� Draco
opened his eyes.

�� It was
broad day, and he was standing with Harry in his arms in the entrance hall of
the Manor, with a dozen squeaking house-elves running towards them.

*

�� DTDY:
Thanks! Harry knew he couldn�t lie to Draco, but he really didn�t expect Draco
to take this so calmly; probably it was because Draco loves Harry more than he
cares about being hunted by the Aurors.

�� FallenAngel1129:
Hee! Thanks for reviewing.

�� hieisdragoness18:
Thank you!

�� Black
Padfoot: Thanks! In this chapter, I think Harry more than repays Draco for
taking care of his guilt complex.
- 9
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Siege Mentality