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The Serenity of His Rage	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16981 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Eleven—Face-to-Face
            “It’s not so much that you didn’t take us with you, mate. I mean, you’re allowed to do things on your own, of course you are. It’s just that you trusted Malfoy.”
            Harry nodded. He was sitting with Ron and Hermione outside beneath the Whomping Willow; they’d got close enough to hit the knot in the trunk that made it freeze. No one else was nearby, which meant Harry thought it was safe to talk without a lot of precautions. Not that many people would probably approach even if they saw the Willow frozen. They would probably think it was going to start up again any second.
            “Why did you trust him?” Hermione shivered and cast a spell that warmed her hands. Harry smiled. Even with Easter not that far away, it was hard to write outside. Hermione was trying to finish an essay at the same time as they talked.
            “The soul-bond. I’ve trusted him since I started feeling his emotions through the bond.”
            “So all we need to do is complete a dangerous and difficult ritual and you’d trust us?” Hermione was a little sharp.
            Harry touched her arm. “Don’t be silly. We already did our dangerous and difficult ritual. It’s called ‘defeating a troll together.’”
            Hermione’s smile seemed to turn the whole world warm. Ron was staring at her with his mouth slightly open, and Harry had to struggle not to roll his eyes. When the hell is he going to ask her out? A blind Slytherin would know how he feels about her.
            Harry was sure Draco knew, even though they’d never talked about it. But then again, he didn’t intend to ask Draco what he thought of it. He was sure he would get scathing feelings down the bond.
            “Okay, but then, you’ve known us for years and you didn’t trust us with it. You knew Malfoy a fortnight and you go off with him to get killed?”
            “I’ve gone off with you to get killed plenty of times,” Harry pointed out. “The Department of Mysteries, the basilisk, going to get the Stone. And I’ve known Malfoy about the same amount of time. It’s only right he gets his fair chance.”
            Ron’s glare said that didn’t impress him. Harry leaned back against the tree and sighed, letting his gaze go over to a pair of Ravenclaws walking at a distance. He wondered if they’d also come out here for privacy and were disappointed not to find it.
            “It’s what I said to you in the hospital wing,” he muttered finally. “I was afraid you would hesitate and not want me or him using the spells we needed to use because you would think they were too Dark. We barely got away as it was. I didn’t need to use any Dark spells, but I think Draco did.”
            “If you didn’t need to use any, then no one needed to use any,” said Hermione, her mouth turning down in a stubborn scowl.
            “And I magically exhausted myself and nearly died because my soul was detached from my body,” Harry said, turning to face her. “I would have died if not for the soul-bond. Not even Snape could call me back. It was Draco who did. Is it better to do that all the time, or use Dark Arts some of the time?”
            Hermione closed her eyes, her eyelashes making lines against her cheek. “I think Dark Arts can corrupt you more easily.”
            “Well, yeah. I’m not saying magical exhaustion would have corrupted me. I think it would have killed me.”
            Ron gave Harry a warning look, and reached out as though he would put his arm around Hermione’s shoulder. A second later, he jumped and pulled it back as if he had just remembered that he couldn’t touch her according to his own bizarre rules.
            Harry rolled his eyes. He was glad Ron wasn’t dating Lavender anymore, but this silly behavior wasn’t much better. If Ron asked her out soon, then Harry wouldn’t have to watch it anymore, at least.
            “I just don’t think you should do anything like that again,” Hermione whispered. “Not even if he asks you. He could ask you to do something that would seriously damage you, Harry.”
            “This did,” Harry said. He thought he understood why Hermione and Ron wanted to hide from the fact that he had almost died. Hell, Harry wasn’t comfortable thinking about it himself. But he refused to let them do it when they would blame Draco if they did. “With just Light magic on my part. I used the Patronus, and I broke through the anti-Apparition spells without hurting anyone, except maybe Voldemort. Those are Light spells. That doesn’t mean they didn’t almost kill me.”
            Hermione said, “Fine. Will you at least involve us next time?”
            “Would you spend time lecturing Draco?”
            “It’s strange that you call the git by his first name, mate.”
            “Not so strange, when we’re soul-bonded.” Harry kept concentrating on Hermione. She was the one who really had to make the decision. Ron might hate Draco, but he would swallow that and go along with this if Hermione reconciled herself to it. Ron cared more about Hermione, in the end, than he did his family’s feud with the Malfoys.
            Hermione sighed and straightened out her robes and spent some time considering them before she raised her eyes. “I reserve the right to tell him about the safer and Lighter ways to do things if he wants to do something Dark.”
            “As long as it’s not in the middle of a battle,” Harry said, and eased back, and smiled at her. “Besides, I probably won’t go charging off with Draco any time soon. He and his father are going to that safehouse I mentioned.”
            “Where?”
            Harry shrugged. “I don’t think anyone except Dumbledore will know that for sure. They’ll probably be under the Fidelius with him as the Secret-Keeper. That’s the safest thing.”
            Of course, immediately after he had said that, Harry wondered if Dumbledore would do the safest thing. If he was still disappointed that Harry and Draco had rescued Lucius their way, or if he was dying from the curse on his hand, then he might pick some other Secret-Keeper.
            “Watch out,” Ron said abruptly. “Snape coming in from the right.”
            Harry turned and looked up at Snape. He had no idea what expression was on his face, but then, he hadn’t seen Snape since that last time he was in the hospital wing to stuff potions down Harry’s throat.
            Snape looked at him only as if Harry was a decaying shrew, instead of a decaying mouse. “The Headmaster wants to see you in his office, Potter,” he murmured. “Immediately.” He turned around and stalked away.
            Since Snape hadn’t told him the password, Harry assumed he would have to actually follow him. He stood up and shrugged at his friends. “Think about what I said. I don’t want to abandon you and just run off with Draco.”
            Hermione nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Thanks for telling us, Harry. I’m just not always sure the ends justify the means.”
            Harry hid the way he rolled his eyes until he turned away. He didn’t think Hermione would convince Draco with that reasoning.
            Of course, she wouldn’t have to convince him anyway. The thought of Hermione and Draco ever fighting side-by-side was more remote than ever now that Draco and Mr. Malfoy were going to safehouse.
            And if there was an ache in Harry’s throat about that, well, he was pretty good at losing things and surviving anyway.
*
            Severus kept a close eye on the Potter boy as they headed for the castle. Potter’s expression had clouded; now it was clear. He walked with a spring in his step, exactly as if nothing was wrong. The boy had learned to hide his emotions more cleverly since he had practiced Occlumency with Draco.
            Severus hoped he had also learned to hide some of his reactions. He waited until they had passed through the entrance hall and climbed the first stair. Then he moved in closer and grabbed Potter’s elbow.
            Potter turned smoothly, and his wand ended up in Severus’s gut.
            Severus grunted, but he was impressed, and did little to hide that reaction. Potter might not recognize the signs, from the way he watched Severus’s face. He had moved backwards now, a little, getting ready to toss Severus into the wall if he could, or shake off his grip and run.
            “The Headmaster did not summon you,” Severus said.
            Potter waited, watching his face. Then he said, “But he should have.”
            Severus nodded. Potter had indeed improved. Maybe it was just Draco’s influence through the soul-bond, Severus comforted himself. Potter could hardly be bonded to someone so much more intelligent than himself—someone who had actually managed to teach him Occlumency—and not change.
            “Draco and his father will leave today,” Severus said. “I will be their Secret-Keeper. The safehouse is a small one that Lucius directed the goblins to send money to buy yesterday, and Draco will be responsible for all the spells that guard them. I thought you might want to say farewell to them.”
            Potter shut his eyes once, then opened them again. “Right. You’re the Secret-Keeper because Dumbledore is dying, right?” He pulled the wand away from Severus’s gut and slid it back into his holster.
            “Yes,” Severus said. He wondered for a moment what Albus had chosen to share with the boy, but discarded the thought of asking. The best way to escape Albus’s games was to stop playing them.
            And Severus thought Albus played games at this point because he honestly knew no other way to deal with people. He had spent years thinking of them as pieces on a chessboard; now some of the way he thought was necessity and some self-protection. Severus intended to secure his freedom soon, but now was not the best moment to try.
            “Draco may try contacting you after he goes to the safehouse,” Severus went on, resuming the walk up the stairs to Albus’s office. “I must ask you not to write back.”
            “Can I tell him that?”
            “He is meeting with Dumbledore right now, with his father. You will not have the chance. At the very least, the Headmaster may want you to keep up the writing, so that he will have a way to speak to Draco through you.”
            Potter stood for a second with his eyes closed, chest barely moving. Severus was reminded of nothing so much as some of the moving statues the Dark Lord had designed for guards when the Death Eaters met under poor wards.
            He looked up at last and asked, “And that would be terrible because?”
            “Dumbledore does not have as much of a care for Draco’s life as he does for yours,” Severus said, and watched in satisfaction as Potter’s eyes widened. “He does not hate him or despise him or wish him dead, but he does not take as much care. That is shown in the way he asked Draco to pay the price of the soul-bond for his sanctuary, while he has asked you for no such price.”
            Potter smiled, unexpectedly. “I already knew what the price was. I agreed to pay it. But you’re right that Headmaster Dumbledore doesn’t care as much about the ones that Draco is going to pay.”
            He began to climb the stairs again. Severus walked behind him, eyeing his back and wondering if the conversation had gone the way he wanted it to after all. Potter hadn’t made the promise not to write to Draco.
            He began to clear his throat again, only to be stopped by Potter saying clearly, calmly, “I understand, Professor Snape. I won’t write to Draco. But I’d like to ask you whether you’d pass along the letters from me to him, and his to me.”
            Severus opened his mouth and let it hang there. His first thought was that no one could pay him enough to become involved in the correspondence between two teenagers.
            He thought, then, that these were not two ordinary teenagers, and Draco would have little enough diversion in the safehouse where he would outwait the remainder of the war, no matter how many books he took with him or how many NEWT courses he managed to study for.
            “I will.”
            Potter flung a swift, brilliant smile at him over his shoulder, and left Severus shocked on the stairs for a moment behind him as he climbed. Shock like that was a weakness Severus had always despised; he had seen it often enough on the faces of his fellow Order of the Phoenix members when they heard some “horrible” news of the Dark Lord’s activities, things they should have toughened themselves to by now.
            But Severus had an excellent reason. That was Lily’s smile, down to the teeth.
*
            Draco lifted his head. He had felt the sharpened arrowhead of Harry’s emotions growing clearer and closer, but he knew Harry didn’t know they were about to slip away. He had thought it was a simple coincidence, that Harry was passing the Headmaster’s office on the way to Gryffindor Tower.
            Now, though, there could be no doubt. Draco’s bondmate was on the stairs. And then the door opened, and he came in, escorted by Professor Snape.
            Draco knew who he had to thank for Harry learning about this “secret” meeting. He met Professor Snape’s eyes and held them for a long moment before he turned to Harry, and let the deep, soft look directed at him overcome him.
            “I thought I’d come and say farewell,” said Harry, ignoring, for the moment, the way the Headmaster’s eyes had widened. He turned abruptly and bowed to Father, seated on the other side of Draco. “And there was something I wanted to talk to you about, Mr. Malfoy. The matter of the life-debt you owe me.”
            Draco blinked. The bond’s emotions were leaping, so chaotic that he couldn’t tell whether Harry was serious about this or not. But from the way Father sat up and turned towards Harry at once, he would take the risk and play along anyway.
            “Of course. How would you like it fulfilled?”
            Harry turned and stared fiercely at Draco. Draco stared back, and felt as if the bond would come pouring out of his mouth in a second, all the emotions simply forming themselves into whatever words were waiting, whether or not they made sense.
            Draco had to hold himself back. He had to remember that Dumbledore was right there, and might object. It hurt that he couldn’t say farewell to Harry properly, but that was the way it was.
            “Take care of Draco. I know you would anyway because he’s your son, but even more fiercely than that. Protect him. Guard him. Make sure he’s not bored. And,” Harry took a deep breath, “when the war ends and you come out of the safehouse, then make sure that he has a happy life, and not just a happy Malfoy life.”
            Draco sat in his chair. He couldn’t have stood if he’d tried. He did at least manage to clasp his hands in his lap so they wouldn’t tremble and give him away, but even that was difficult.
            Father, the picture of courtesy, inclined his head. “Of course. Thank you for my freedom, Mr. Potter. I will indeed make sure that Draco is happy, both as himself and as a Malfoy.”
            Harry smiled, maybe at the way Father had still managed to sneak something about the family name in there, and then turned and held out his hand to Draco. Draco hesitated, wavering. He knew what he wanted to do, but there was still Dumbledore to consider, and even Professor Snape. Not to mention Father, and what he would think was weakness.
            Harry still held out his hand, rock-steady, and looked into Draco’s eyes while the bond foamed, and said with complete sincerity, “Good-bye. Stay safe. I hope you have everything you want.”
            Fuck it, Draco thought, not a thought he’d had before, and stood and wrapped his arms fiercely around Harry’s waist. Harry froze, blinking. Draco hugged him, and Harry finally understood and hugged him back.
            If this is the last time I see him, I’m going to make it count.
            “Stay safe yourself,” Draco whispered fiercely. “Don’t get killed in the war. Since I won’t be around for you to have adventures with, I insist you at least take your friends.”
            Harry laughed, a little puff of air. “I don’t think they’d let themselves be left behind, not now.” He squeezed back once, and then said, in such a rush that Draco almost couldn’t distinguish the words, “Don’t write to me. Write to Snape.”
            Draco had time to blink and then nod as he pulled back. With all luck, he thought, Dumbledore would think he was just nodding in response to Harry’s farewell.
            And the reason for the odd request was perfectly obvious when Draco thought about it. Harry wouldn’t be able to write to Draco and have the letters go through the wards without possibly giving them away. But Professor Snape was their Secret-Keeper and could pass letters safely back and forth.
            That Harry would want to write to him made a sharp warmth fill the bond, and let Draco steady himself through the crashing waves he could already feel.
            “I’m sure you won’t forget each other,” said the Headmaster in a genial tone that couldn’t fool Draco. He was already waving Draco back to his chair, and looking between them as if he thought there was something he could do to sever their bond. Draco looked at his blackened hand and then away.
            We all pay our prices. That this one didn’t end up costing me everything is something you’ll just have to live with.
            “I hope you take plenty of books with you,” Harry said, nodding between Father and Draco. “Otherwise, you might be bored.”
            Draco smiled at him and reached for the playful tone that Harry had established. No need to show more than he already had. “I assure you I’m also taking a broom. And some of those books are on meditation, to let me survive the effects of the emotions coming through the bond.”
            Harry laughed and started to respond, but the Headmaster cut in then, and Draco wanted to spit. “I don’t see why you should have to suffer those effects if you don’t want to, Mr. Malfoy. After all, you can simply use Occlumency to close the bond.”
            He has no idea, does he? Draco thought, and smiled at Dumbledore. “I could, Headmaster, that’s a good point.”
            He didn’t say he would do it, and after a moment, Dumbledore seemed to realize he should give up waiting for that reassurance. He sighed a little as he turned back to Harry. “You realize it would be absurdly dangerous for you to be in contact with Mr. Malfoy?”
            “Oh, I know that, Professor.” Harry’s face was blank and respectful, while the bond surged and roared. Draco held back a snicker. Harry did lie a lot with his face, much more than Draco had thought him capable of. “I just wanted to say goodbye. Will we have Horcrux lessons again tonight?”
            Dumbledore stirred, but Draco caught his accusing gaze and didn’t turn away. Of course he had told Father about the Horcruxes. It was the only way he could explain the soul-bond to Father in a way that made sense of why he would take up a dangerous connection to Harry Potter. If Father hadn’t got the answer he wanted, he would just have kept pressing forwards anyway, until he did get it.
            Dumbledore made a faint distressed sound and said, “Yes, we will, Harry. Thank you for coming by when you did.”
            Harry nodded once, completely disregarding Dumbledore’s attempt to take credit for their meeting on himself instead of giving it to Professor Snape, and waved once at Draco. “Have fun,” he said, and headed out.
            Draco turned his head unerringly towards the door, feeling the way Harry’s emotions moved down the stairs, and turned, and approached the door at the bottom of them…
            “I confess to some disappointment in you, Mr. Malfoy.”
            Draco turned to face the Headmaster again. “Why?” he asked. “I didn’t go out and bring him to me. And I did want to say farewell to him. He helped me. He saved my life, and my father’s life. He’s my soul-bonded.”
            For a moment, Dumbledore looked puzzled. Draco wondered what part in his statement was hard to absorb. But a second later, Dumbledore smiled and nodded.
            “You are treating him as if he were your soulmate. Commendable, Mr. Malfoy, when you consider where this bond began. But you must remember that Harry is his own independent person, and so are you.”
            Draco just bowed his head, while he inwardly crowed at having got something past Dumbledore that he hadn’t even counted on. Dumbledore thought Draco had a crush on Harry or something! He didn’t think there was any chance the soul-bond could be anything but an imposition, even now. Certainly not something treasured, not a bond that Draco would fight to keep. He thought Draco would get over this infatuation and go on.
            Even as Draco straightened and Dumbledore started to talk about something else, Draco caught his father’s eye. He could tell Father was displeased at the notion that Harry mattered to him, displeased at the hug, displeased at the loss of appropriate Malfoy dignity, probably everything except what Harry had actually asked for in payment for his life-debt.
            But Draco had had to make the decisions he did on his own. If Father had been free, it would have meant Mother was as well, and then everything would have been different.
            Draco would continue to protect the people important to him. Everyone else would have to fall in line with that.
            And it doesn’t matter if those people are my Headmaster or the ones I’m trying to protect. They’ll get used to it in time.
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The Serenity of His Rage