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Love, Free as Air	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 32703 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 10
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Chapter
Eleven�Transition

�� Master
Harry Potter, sir!�

�� Harry
jerked himself out of bed an instant, and found his wand in his hand as though
he had Summoned it there. Perhaps he had. He sometimes did wandless magic in
his sleep, he�d found, and the instinct was to find his wand and keep it close
when he�d been without it for weeks in his bird body.

�� He blinked
in a circle, only then realizing that it was Kreacher�s voice he�d heard and
not Ron�s, Hermione�s, or Draco�s, and found Kreacher standing at the bottom of
the bed. He held a large pot and a larger wooden spoon, and looked sufficiently
outraged that Harry decided that he was yearning to attack, not frightened.

�� What is
it, Kreacher?� Harry kept his voice low, while he cast his senses out in a
circle with a quick spell. He could feel the wards holding strong around the
house�except in one place, where the front door faced the street. Someone was
trying to tunnel through the wards there, and doing a clumsy job. Harry thought
he probably would have felt it in a few seconds, even if Kreacher hadn�t
summoned him.

�� Someone is
getting into Master Harry Potter�s house, Master Harry Potter sir!� Kreacher
whispered, his eyes flashing. He waved his makeshift weapons. �Master Harry
Potter must wake up and defend his property!�

�� Harry
grinned at that. �Yes, you�re right,� he said, and began to ease down the
stairs. �Come on.�

�� As he went,
he reached out to test the wards again. The magical signature pressing against
them didn�t feel familiar, which cut out a lot of the Aurors and Snape.
(Although Harry honestly didn�t think Snape would cross a shallow puddle to get
Draco back, he might have decided to harm Harry�s home out of revenge). That
left thugs from the Wizengamot as the most likely culprits.

�� At the
bottom of the stairs, just as he started to raise his wand, he heard someone
behind him. Harry turned, and released a hard breath when he saw it was only
Draco. Of course, Kreacher probably would have had time to warn him if someone
had actually managed to get through the wards and behind him, but Harry had
lived through the past six years by never underestimating his enemies.

�� Go back to
bed,� Harry whispered crossly. �I can handle this.�

�� Draco stood
behind him with his hair shaggy and his eyes enormous and his chest pale in the
moonlight; it was covered with scars, Harry noticed. And he noticed that
because Draco didn�t have a shirt on. Harry rolled his eyes. �It�s all right,�
he said. �I promise. Go put on some robes, at least?�

�� No,� Draco
said. �Why should I? I don�t have to have robes to fight.� He lifted his wand,
lit it so brightly that Harry�s eyes flinched away, and then leaned across
Harry�s shoulder to stare at the door. �What is it? Who is it?�

�� The
Wizengamot, I suspect,� Harry said. �The magical signature isn�t familiar, and
that means it can�t be any of the others who would have reason to break in here
and get you back, like the Aurors.� He shifted to the side, staring at the
front door and hoping that no one had seen the light of Draco�s wand through
the windows. He doubted it, though. The window wards were some of the inner
ones, and would be the last and hardest to break, immediately before they
stormed in. �Mostly, we have to make sure that we don�t hurt them.�

�� We have to make sure of that?� Draco�s
voice rose.

�� Harry cast
him an exasperated glance. �Think. If they thought they had right on their side
and could get away with a raid like this, why would they make it in the middle
of the night? It would be much better to have it in the middle of the day, with
a reporter or two present. Lots of publicity, lots of chances for solemn
speeches to the wizarding world about how they tried, they did, but you were
just too dangerous to let run around free. An attack in the middle of the night
means something different. I think they want some injuries so that they have a
chance to arrest you for fresh crimes. Or me,� he had to add, because he
thought there were some Wizengamot members who wouldn�t mind seeing Harry gone
from the trial as well.

�� Draco stood
where he was, brilliant wand in hand, staring at Harry with his jaw dropped.

�� What?�
Harry checked over his shoulder to make sure that no one had come in while he
was lecturing. Or maybe Draco had lost his composure at the sight of Kreacher,
standing beside them and banging his spoon into his pot with a rhythmic measure
that Harry knew was meant to intimidate. Well, with all luck the Wizengamot�s
raid team would include a few pure-bloods who would find it intimidating that a house-elf was fighting back.

�� I didn�t
think of any of that,� Draco said in a daze. �I could have, with more time, but
I didn�t.�

�� Harry
smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. �Well, it�s the middle of the night,
and you�re tired and just got up. Come on. Follow my lead, and cast the
brightest hexes you can, and other than that, only defensive spells.� He
started to move forwards.

�� Draco held
him back, one hand pressing into the middle of Harry�s spine as if he wanted to
memorize the contour. �No,� he murmured. �I owe you an apology. I didn�t expect
you to think of it, either.�

�� I�ve
changed a lot since you knew me,� Harry said, and stepped away. �Now, come on.
Like I said, bright hexes only, We want to blind and dazzle, not injure them or
convince them that we�re dangerous.� He thought a moment, then smiled. �Want to
lead with the Conjurer�s Rainbow?�

*

�� He and
Potter made a good team, Draco had to think., and they fell so naturally into place next to each other
that his back teeth ached. It was the kind of partnership that he had wished to
have with Severus, but he had never felt it except during a few moments of
brewing and the night they had fled the wizarding world.

�� Together,
after Potter tore down the wards, they raised the Conjurer�s Rainbow, a bright
arc of light that changed color six times a second and blazed into the night,
ripping it apart and incidentally revealing the Wizengamot enforcers crouched
in the shadows on either side of the path that led up to the front door. Then
Potter let loose a stream of fireworks, or hexes like them�Draco had to admit
that he was too busy planning his next spell to be sure of that�and half the
enforcers shrieked and leaped about like rabbits.

�� Draco had
chosen his hex by then. He lifted his wand high and cried out, �Flamma incomprehensibilis!�

�� What was
left of the night turned pale and dowdy in the wake of the fire Draco conjured.
It was brilliant, pure white, and looked as though it ought to be hot enough to
consume flesh at a touch, though it was only illusion. It rose up from behind
Draco, a giant swan-colored flame, and surged forwards, a dancing taper, to
coil around the edges of the enforcers� cloaks and throw them to the ground. So
many more of them were shrieking now, but with fear and shock, not pain. Draco
laughed aloud. The challenge to keep from injuring anyone, and thus to keep his
hands and mind away from the Darker spells he knew, was stimulating.

�� Into the
middle of everything rushed Potter�s house-elf, laying about him with spoon and
pot and screams of, �Bad wizards, bad wizards, to threaten Master Harry
Potter sir�s property!� which Draco didn�t think were all that intimidating but
certainly added to the distractions.

�� Draco
turned to the side, knowing without asking that Potter was there, and sure
enough, Potter was, grinning at him. He held out his hand, and Draco clasped
it, also knowing without asking what spell Potter wanted to perform next.

�� Nox candelabrorum!� they shouted
together.

�� Candles in
golden holders immediately appeared in a circle around the wizards, and then
another rank behind them, and then another rank behind that, producing
illumination as bright as a Muggle spotlight Draco had once seen from a
distance. The fighting stopped at once, as if that had been a signal. Later,
Draco thought that the enforcers had probably been relying on darkness to cover
their retreat, and had realized that this meant anyone could see their faces
and commit them to a Pensieve memory.

�� Kreacher
started to line himself up for a charge at the enemy until Potter reached out
and made a chopping, commanding gesture. Then he stepped back, sulking, and
Potter took a step in front of him�shielding both Draco and Kreacher at once,
as Draco was quick to realize�and swept the small crowd with an unsmiling
glance.

�� I want to
know what you�re doing here,� Potter said. His voice was low and commanding,
and Draco felt the urge to stretch himself against the rippling touch of the
air that the words passed through, as if they were a great, solid cloak he
could feel draping over his shoulders. �I know you work with the Wizengamot;
that�s not the question. Why are you here?
Why did you try to get through the wards?�

�� The
enforcers exchanged glances. Most of them were younger wizards, Draco saw, in
their thirties and late twenties, though he saw no one knew.

�� And none of
them, it seemed, had been provided with instructions about what they should say
if they failed. They probably weren�t supposed to fail. They shuffled back and
forth, and cleared their throats, and examined their wands.

�� It�s like
that, is it?� Potter nodded, and Draco might have thought his voice was gentle,
if he hadn�t seen his face. �None of you wanted to be here, but you had no
choice, and you expected me to come charging out, acting like a crazed
murderer, so you would have an excuse to arrest me. And you probably thought
Mr. Malfoy was a crazed murderer, so
you had no objections to that part of the assignment, either.� His voice
deepened, but he never moved, simply standing there with his arms folded and
his face still. Draco licked his lips and felt a thrumming sense of power
travel through him. This was the way he had imagined someone defending him when
he was a child, with undeniable words and the power to force other people to
look away. Granger had given him a taste of it for the first time two days ago,
but this was more exciting. �None of you considered that Mr. Malfoy has had
enough mud thrown at him to stick if it was going to. None of you considered
that I am a power in my own right and can defend who I can choose to defend.
None of you considered that your employers are going to be willing to sacrifice
you when they find out what happened, rather than admit that they�ve done anything
wrong.�

�� He paused,
his eyes raking across faces as if he thought someone in front of him would be
ashamed enough to throw himself on his knees and confess. But no one did, and
Potter snorted in disgust and turned his back. �Go away,� he said.

�� And they
did. The Wizengamot enforcers melted away between the candles as though they
had no choice. Few of them glanced at him or Kreacher, Draco saw; most of their
attention was for Potter. And those few wore a mixture of confusion and
resentment, but they went away like all the others.

�� Potter
halted in front of Draco, studying him with kind, weary eyes. �Are you all
right? I didn�t ask you that, but I didn�t want to in front of them.�

�� Of course
I�m all right,� Draco said. His breath was coming very short. �None of them got
the chance to injure me.�

�� That�s not
what I meant,� Potter said. �Are you all right that I spoke for you? I would
have let you do it, but I was afraid that they wouldn�t listen. They still
respect me for what I did during the war.�

�� Draco
couldn�t respond except in one way. He reached out and clasped Potter�s
shoulders, staring into his eyes. Potter knew what this meant, from the sudden
stillness, but he didn�t move away, though his breathing accelerated to match
Draco�s.

�� Draco
leaned up and placed his lips gently against Potter�s, trying to convey his
gratitude and his glee and his longing.

�� Potter
shuddered and didn�t move one way or the other, forwards or back. He stood
there and let Draco kiss him, and when Draco was done, he bowed his head and
nodded. �Thank you,� he said, voice harsh. �I know that must have cost you a
lot to give.�

�� Nothing at
all,� Draco said, running his fingers lightly along Potter�s arm, feeling the
skin there. �Not nearly as much as it must have cost you to stand there and let
me give it.�

�� Potter
blinked down at him, startled, as Draco had intended him to be, into discussing
this rather than pretending that it had never happened. �I�oh, fuck.� He smiled suddenly, but it was an
awkward smile. �Look, Malfoy, I know that you need a lover again, that you�re
not used to being without one since you left Snape, but I don�t think I can be
that lover. I thought you were kissing me because it was the only way you knew
how to express how you felt, but I want you to learn to be independent, and��

�� It was the only way I could express what I
felt,� Draco said calmly. So calm. He hadn�t known it would be that way. He ran
his fingers the other way, down Potter�s arm this time, and closed them lightly
around his wrist. �But not because I�ve become so twisted by my years with
Severus that sexual kisses are the only means of intimacy I can think of.
Because you did something brave here tonight, and I wanted to thank you for
it.� He let his hand linger one moment more on Potter�s wrist, and then let it
go. �Harry.�

�� He could
feel the silence of Harry�s bewilderment behind him as he walked back into the
house. It was pleasant.

*

�� Severus had
to cross out so many different starts to the letter that he began to wonder if
it was worth sending at all. But then he would think of the way that Draco had
written to him, and his own thoughts, and the fact that he had ruined a Calming Draught, of all potions, and he
would return to the stubborn facts of ink and parchment.

�� I don�t want you to know

�� I want you to know

�� I want to say

�� Draco informed me that

�� So many
starts, and all of them lacked something. Severus could not speak to Potter
openly of the memories alone, because that might make him sound too needy, and
he couldn�t leave out all the new thoughts that had come up in the past few
days, because that would cause Potter to think he was the same and throw away
the letter without reading it. And he could not write to Draco because�

�� Because he
did not have the courage yet. Because he was too ashamed.

�� Severus
gritted his teeth. Perhaps this pain will
prove useful in time, but I do not yet believe that it is. He had used pain
as a goad on himself in the past, a whip that would keep him to his assigned
tasks, but he had never confronted a pain this sharp and searching and
personal.

�� It had
helped, he was gradually coming to realize, that he had thought any attempts to
resume his relationship with Lily hopeless. It had given him the ability to
persist and yet be half-angry, half-satisfied, when she refused to listen. He
had to atone, he had to grieve, but he could also give up and do the atonement,
which was easier than the making up would have been.

�� Severus
leaned back in his chair and touched his forehead with long fingers when he
thought that. How Albus would laugh, that
at the age of forty-four I am facing my demons at last.

�� So now he
had to do the making up, but he didn�t think that Draco would listen to him
after the last letter. Potter was his chance. And Potter had a spark of
sympathy for him, as evidenced in those memories, but the spark had to be blown
to life in the right way, and immediately, rather than after long waiting, as
Severus would have preferred to do.

�� He bent
over the parchment again and let the chaotic words flow from his fingers this
time, trying to express his mind rather than impress someone. He would worry
about how they would be received after he had written them. At least that would
give him solid matter to choose from rather than the current intangible
thoughts shifting in his head.

�� Potter:

�� I want you to know that I have
thought about the memories that you gave me in the Pensieve. You value
something in me. You were glad I survived. You were shocked to find out that I
was the Half-Blood Prince, and if that means you value my brains, it is time
that I proved I have them.

�� I was not ready to lose Draco,
although I thought I was. I require him back, and that means that I must
reconcile with him. Will you speak to him for me? Don�t give him this letter,
or do, if you want to. I want to reconcile. Say that I have thought about it,
and I am ashamed and I am sorry.

�� That last
word was the hardest one Severus had ever written.

�� I have thought, and thought, and thought. I
was more childish than Draco. I need him back. I need you back perhaps as well,
because trying to resume our relationship from where we were simply will not
work for me and him, and we need you as mediator. Try. Read this if you can,
share it or not, and make your mind up.

�� Severus Snape.

�� Severus
laid down the letter and closed his eyes. His head ached, still, and he didn�t
know if that came from stress, memories, or the fact that those words were on
the parchment now, where anyone could look at them. He pushed the letter away
from him and stood.

�� He would
spend the rest of his day in the lab and the gardens, confident that he had
done his duty where he should. Tomorrow was soon enough to send the letter out.

*

��

�� They�re
crumbling.�

�� Harry
raised his cup of water in a toast to Hermione and then took a deep gulp. It
helped that Draco was here, as well, sitting on the other side of the table and
seeming as viciously pleased as Hermione. It meant that there was someone else
who could talk to Draco, so that Harry didn�t feel obligated to keep looking at
him.

�� It wasn�t
that he didn�t want to look at him,
or that Draco didn�t deserve to be looked at, Harry thought defensively. He was
just confused. He hadn�t expected Draco to kiss him two nights ago and then not
even press the issue.

�� You�re
certain of that?� Draco�s voice had a sliding eagerness in it that made Harry
smile. He could hardly blame Draco for wanting to get back at the Wizengamot,
and this was a neater revenge than Harry thought he would have been able to get
on his own. Not to mention that he probably would have been arrested if he�d
tried some of the plans that had to be dancing in his head.

�� Oh, yes.�
Hermione set down her pumpkin juice with a bang and paced back and forth across
the kitchen the way she had the other day. This time, though, she was more
excited, and Harry could see curls escaping from the tight hold at her neck.
She whirled around, caught him looking, and glanced haughtily away at Draco
again, to show that she didn�t care. �They didn�t argue as much this time.
Their voices were fainter. They had a few people there to oppose me, but their
testimonies were weak and there weren�t as many witnesses as they should have
been. Whether or not the Wizengamot is having trouble finding people who want
to witness for them, I don�t know,� she added thoughtfully. �I did expect more in the early stages of
the trial, and I would say this is still early stages. But possibly it was long
enough ago that no one cares as much as the Wizengamot thought they would.�

��

�� I have to
be grateful that you do,� Draco said, and Harry knew him well enough by now to
hear the real gratitude mixed in with the stiffness.

�� No, you
don�t,� Hermione said, and turned around and grinned at him. �I�m doing it for
sheer bloody-mindedness as much as anything else. How dare they give people biased trials in the first place!� Her teeth
flashed as she bared them. �If they�d followed their own ideals of justice when
they should have, instead of bowing to popular pressure, then they wouldn�t
have me on their trail now.�

�� Draco and
Hermione spoke a bit more about the trial as well as their hopes of rescuing at
least his mother from prison, but Harry didn�t spend much time listening. He
toyed with his glass instead and watched Draco from under his lids.

�� All right.
So Draco needed someone. That was obvious. Harry could be a friend, but he
didn�t think he could be more than that.

�� Draco had
meant the kiss as a gesture of thanks. He�d said so. There was no reason to
brood further on it. It might never go further than that.

�� Harry
licked his lips and lowered his head. Maybe it was just because he was spending
so much time in Draco�s company, or because Draco was making motions of his own
to show that he wasn�t going to be as uptight as he could have been about Harry
and Hermione�s help, or because Draco did need him in fairly specific and
concrete ways and gave him a battle to fight, but Harry felt, for the first
time, as if a man existed he could be close to in the way that Ron was close to
Hermione.

�� But the
problem was, he couldn�t do anything about his lack of physical attraction, and
he didn�t want to encourage false hopes in Draco�or any hopes at all, really,
when any could be disastrous. Harry shook his head and took another gulp of
water.

�� An owl
surged through the window and down to the table, offering Harry a letter. Harry
took it and opened it, half-expecting it to be from the Wizengamot and about
the late-night raid. They�d said nothing so far, probably because admitting it
would mean that they�d also have to admit the embarrassment of its failure.

�� He felt his
cheeks heat in automatic reaction when he saw the writing and, instead of
thinking Snape, thought Half-Blood Prince.

�� What�s the
matter, Harry?�

�� Hermione
had noticed the way his face changed, of course. Harry glanced up and shook his
head. �I don�t know if anything is,� he said. �The letter�s just from a very
unexpected person, that�s all, and I have to decide how to handle it.� He let
his eyes dart over to Draco, hoping to tell him the truth he couldn�t say in
front of Hermione. He was not going to keep the letter secret from Draco, no
matter what Snape might have said.

�� He was less
sure that he needed to, since the first sentence his eyes had fallen on said Say that I have thought about it, and that I
am ashamed and I am sorry.

�� Draco was staring when Harry looked back at
him again, and Hermione looked at both of them and announced that she had
plenty to do with getting the final stages of the trial ready. She gathered up
her parchment and was out of the kitchen so fast that Harry hardly had time to
wave goodbye. Then he stared at the letter in his hand again, read through it
one more time, and shook his head.

�� Here,� he
said, holding it out to Draco. �You make sense of it.�

�� Draco read
it with a steadily setting jaw and a paling face, and Harry felt himself relax.
He thought he could trust Draco to make the right decision. Draco was more
likely to know, among other things, whether Snape was lying to them or not.

�� But then
Draco stood up and flung the letter into the middle of the table, shaking his
head. �I don�t know,� he said, voice breaking. �I would give almost everything
for this to be real�especially since you said you can�t be mine.�

�� Harry
flinched; Draco�s eyes were bright and accusing. He took a deep breath. �I�m
willing to be your friend and your helper,� he said. �I�m willing to let you
borrow money from me and live with me. But I don�t think I can be what you
need. I�m not sure that you need someone
in the way that you needed�him.�

�� Then I
don�t know,� Draco repeated, more loudly, more fiercely. �I wish he hadn�t
written again. Now I have to think about
him. You answer this in any way you think best.� He turned and left the room.

�� Slowly, reluctantly,
Harry gathered up the letter and considered it again. He wanted to say that the headlong words on the page were honest, but
it was true that he couldn�t know that, not for certain.

�� And he
didn�t want to experiment with Draco�s peace or his pride.

�� In the end,
he took the letter upstairs to sleep on it, and hoped that his mind would calm
down enough to let him sleep in the first place.

*

�� Rosalie
Ayers: He�ll only be able to do so if he can actually admit everything he�s
feeling to Draco.

�� lryn: Snape
knew what he wanted the letter to Harry to do�persuade both of them to give him
another chance�but he wasn�t really sure how to do that.

��

�� Shadow
Lily: Snape will try, but there�s no saying if it will be enough yet.

�� Jicky:
Thanks! I think Snape is changing his mind because he just has no choice. He�s
being confronted with several facts that he can�t get away from, such as being
lonely, so he has to accommodate them somehow.
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Love, Free as Air