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Ceremonies of Strife	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16218 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money from this writing.

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Chapter Thirteen�Words
Once Spoken

�� The door
shut behind them with a sound that Harry, at least, dreaded. He turned to face
Draco, who leaned against the door and stared at him uncertainly. Then he straightened
his spine and cleared his throat.

�� Bully for him, Harry thought in misery. He doesn�t seem to mind telling me the
secrets he�s been hiding, whatever they are. But how in the world am I supposed
to tell him about the necromancy?

�� He knew
that Weston and Lowell would insist on that, if they knew. Fuck, they�d
probably insist on a lot of other things, too. And Harry simply couldn�t give
in and confess the secret, because of the way Draco would react.

�� Then I�ll have to do the best I can, Harry
thought, and felt more fit to meet the challenge when he remembered that he had
to do his best for people other than Draco. The yearning eyes of the dead were
visible in his mind whenever he blinked. There had to be a way of reconciling
their claims and Draco�s claims, or at least the ones Lowell and Weston were
raising on his behalf.

�� I�ve done harder things. Compared to dying
so that everyone else could live, this ought to be easy.

�� Why did we
stop talking, do you think?� Draco asked. His tone was desperately casual, and he
toyed with a button of the front of his robes, staring down at it. �There was
no reason to it. It just�happened.�

�� That�s what
I think,� Harry said quietly, thinking back and trying to remember. It seemed
to him that they�d had some pretty honest conversations at Grimmauld Place,
when Draco had told him about Lucius escaping from prison and Harry had
confessed he loved Draco. But after that, they�d become tied up in their
classes and their separate lives, and they didn�t seem to come together even
when they were, well, coming together.

�� Draco
smiled when Harry said that and nodded. �Yes, I think that�s true,� he said. �Was
there one event that made that happen, though?� He moved away from the door and
further into the room, which made Harry feel a little more relaxed.

�� I don�t
think so,� Harry said. �But our classes are hard, and we seem to deal with it
by sinking into work and forgetting about each other.�

�� Draco
relaxed even more. Was he waiting for me
to say that? Harry thought. Or maybe
he wanted to say it but he�s glad to be spared the necessity. �That�s it exactly,�
Draco said. �And sometimes I wonder whether I really want to be an Auror, if it
takes us this long to get there.�

�� You knew
that before we came in, though.� Harry peered at him in curiosity. �And you
already know that the War Wizards probably won�t accept you. What was it that
you wanted to do instead?�

�� Draco
hesitated, then gave a flippant shrug of his shoulders and seemed to commit
himself to speaking whatever words came into his head. �I want power, Harry. I
need it, to protect myself against my father and anyone who might take a special
interest in ending my existence.� He smiled grimly. �It seems that I have no
chance of getting it, since the War Wizards won�t take me. I was going to study
the Greek magic that I saw Dearborn and Nihil using on my own, but I didn�t get
the chance before that attack happened, and since then, I�ve been observing
Pushkin, who shares almost nothing.�

�� He finished
that with a little rush and then stood peering at Harry. Harry knew his mouth
was open, and did his best to shut it. He had never suspected that Draco wanted
something like that; he had seemed, if anything, more patient than Harry was,
willing to try several new things to see if they would work. The only time he
had seemed truly impatient was when Lowell and Weston had criticized his
fighting skills.

�� I didn�t
know,� Harry said at last. �I�m sorry. I would have tried to help you if I had.�
Something occurred to him. �Why didn�t you tell me?�

�� I thought
you would think it was�naked,� Draco said.

�� Harry
frowned. �What?�

�� Too naked
a grab for power.� Draco was flushing by now, but he looked half-defiant, too. �Why
should you trust me with that much? Slytherins were supposed to be ambitious in
Hogwarts, and you disliked us for that. I thought you would say the same thing
if I explained that I wanted power now. Be amused, or tell me that we had
enough with the compatible magic and I should be content.�

�� Harry shook
his head hesitantly, and tried to think of sophisticated, subtle words that
would explain what he was thinking. Then he decided that was never going to happen and went straight for the clear
ones. �I don�t want power for myself, but I�m not going to oppose your desires
as long as you don�t want to hurt other people, Draco.�

�� Draco
stared at him. Harry could see surprise in his expression, and maybe something
else, but Draco turned away before he could be sure. �That�s�generous of you,�
Draco said.

�� Why?�
Harry said. �I love you, and I know that what I want isn�t the same as what
everyone else wants.� He came forwards a few steps. Draco didn�t protest or
back away, so Harry wrapped his arms around Draco�s waist and leaned his head
on Draco�s shoulder, listening to his jolting breaths.

�� It�s hard
for you,� Harry whispered, �being partnered to me.�

�� Draco made
a sharp movement as though he would deny that, and then stood still, only
bowing his head slightly.

�� Harry
stroked his back. �I know,� he said. �It certainly isn�t the fate that either
of us thought we would have.� He knew Draco was smiling, though he continued to
stand there without speaking or moving. �But I don�t mind, Draco, really. I�m
not threatened if you�re stronger than me, because I know that you would always
share that strength with me through the compatible magic if I needed it.�

�� Draco
finally moved, linking his fingers through Harry�s, and whispered, �Why don�t you want power?�

�� Harry
frowned and wondered how to explain. Draco turned around in his arms meanwhile
and stared him directly in the eyes. Harry licked his lips. He would have to be
careful how he answered when he was bad at lying and Draco would probably see
one easily.

�� I want
some kinds,� he said. �I want to have the strength to protect people and be a
good Auror. I haven�t really used my fame except for a few small things, but it
could be useful if you or one of my friends was in trouble and it was the only
way to make the Ministry listen to me. And of course I wanted the strength to
kill Voldemort, even though that turned out to be rather different than I thought
it would be.�

�� But
magical power,� Draco said insistently, touching Harry�s cheek with the back of
his hand as though feeling for a fever. �I�d think that would be important to
you, since you grew up with Muggles. A way of distinguishing yourself from
them.�

�� Harry shook
his head. �I was just happy to have magic,
at all. It hasn�t bothered me, how strong or how weak I am.�

�� Well, that�s
because you�re strong,� Draco said, face set in a stubborn expression. �It
would be different if you weren�t, because then you would have to realize how
many people around you were more powerful. You�d get tired of looking up to
them, and envious, and then you�d want it.�

�� Maybe that�s
true,� Harry said. �But I don�t think it explains you, because you�re strong
and yet you want more.� He hesitated, then decided that he would probably never
have the courage to ask this question again if the conversation moved on. �Are
you envious of me, because I�m strong?�

�� Draco
leaned hard against him, almost knocking him from his feet. Harry swayed, but
managed to stay standing upright. And he looked Draco calmly in the eye, too, because
if Draco didn�t want to answer this, Harry thought it was all the more
important that he get an answer.

�� Draco
scowled over his shoulder at the wall. Then he said, �Lowell and Weston have
painful ideas. Remind me to tell them that the next time we see them.�

�� Doesn�t
mean they�re not good,� Harry said gently, and shoved at Draco�s left shoulder
a little.

�� I know.�
Draco sighed and brought his eyes back to Harry�s face. �Sometimes. You seem to
do some things so easily. And I envy you your courage. And I envied the way
that you fought those beasts off during Nemo�s attack, while all I could do was
stand there and get frozen by an ice-dragon.�

�� Nemo would
have captured me if not for Flash,� Harry said. �And Flash was your gift to me.
So you could look at it as you rescuing me.�

�� Draco
smiled, but his eyes were vague. �Mostly,� he whispered, �I can keep my envy
under control, because I know that you�ll share your strength with me through
the compatible magic. But sometimes, yeah.� He shuddered a little and shook his
head. �You seem to walk through the world so unconcerned sometimes. I wonder how you do it.�

�� Harry
laughed. �Have you ever seen me the day before one of the essays is due? I�m
not unconcerned then. I think the last time we had an essay due for Coronante,
I ended up with ink on my eyelids and in
my hair, and you were kind enough to let me know about it before everyone
started laughing at me.�

�� Draco
half-smiled. �Coronante,� he muttered. �I wish someone else was teaching us
Stealth and Tracking.�

�� Harry
cocked his head. �Do you mind her because you think that she�s too ridiculous
and Aurors should be more dignified, or because she�s not pure-blood?�

�� From the
way Draco stiffened and looked at him with sudden wariness, as if he thought
that Harry had used Legilimency on him, Harry was sure this was another of the
things he had been concealing. He concentrated his gaze and waited with the
patient expression he had learned made Draco uneasy and defensive and liable to
talk sooner.

*

�� Draco
flexed his fingers open and shut, and wondered how he could approach this
subject in a way that wouldn�t offend Harry. He had to tell the truth�their magic,
and thus their partnership, depended on that�but he wasn�t sure he knew the
words.

�� That�s happened a lot before, and you still
spoke the truth, and Harry still put up with it and reassured you.

�� I don�t
like that she�s so ridiculous,� Draco said, deciding to start with the easier question
to answer. �And I think that has to do with her blood, because she would have
been more reserved and more serious if she had a pure-blood upbringing, which
means that I could tolerate her better.�

�� Harry�s
eyes sharpened. �What about me? Do you disapprove of my manners because I don�t
have a pure-blood upbringing? What about Hermione?�

�� There are
times I wish both of you acted differently,� Draco said. �But I know what kind of upbringing you had,
Harry, and I don�t want you to think I�m blaming you for it. And Granger is serious
enough for me, if not reserved enough.�

�� Harry
stepped back and folded his arms. �Would you be happier if I was a pure-blood?�

�� Draco bowed
his head and stared at the floor. They had to dust, he thought absently. And
they should sweep, too. Really, the floor of their room was dirtier than he had
realized it was.

�� Not
happier,� he muttered at last, when the silence had gone on too long and got a
tinge of impatience that he knew came from Harry�s waiting. �You�re you, and I�m
happy with you. But there are times that I wish I could talk about something
with you, and then I remember that you wouldn�t understand it.�

�� Is that a
difference of blood?� Harry asked. �Or culture? Because that�s what it sounds
like to me.� His breathing and voice were both getting quicker, and Draco had
no chance to apologize or say something that would excuse himself, because Harry
was sweeping ahead, like a stream in flood. �Besides, what can�t you discuss
with me? Name one thing that you�ve talked to me about and that I haven�t at
least considered.�

�� The
difference in blood, for one thing,� Draco said, and met his eyes. �Listen to
yourself right now. Are you considering it?�

�� I haven�t punched
you in the nose yet,� Harry snapped, �which I think is pretty bloody
restrained, given that the subject is the reason Voldemort killed my parents
and some people thought Hermione shouldn�t be attending Hogwarts.�

�� Draco
tilted his head in acknowledgment, but kept his hands clenched. �Perhaps you�re
right, and it�s a difference of culture instead of blood,� he said. �But it
still puts barriers between us. I still want instructors who are more reserved,
like Dearborn, and don�t just leap to a conclusion or try to make someone who
doesn�t learn in the way they approve of feel bad. I want someone who can be
calm and cool and explain the subject in long, intelligent sentences.�

�� Davidson
does that,� Harry said. He�d stepped back to put some more distance between
them, and it made Draco ache to see it. �Lowell. Weston. Even Aran, some of the
time. And I know that you enjoy the
Spell Lexicon class, Draco. Does it matter that maybe they�re not all
pure-bloods? Is it really the manners you want, or the blood? I think the
answer to that question will tell me a lot about you,� he added.

�� Draco
swallowed and looked at him for long minutes until he thought that he could
speak calmly. He had expected an interruption before then, because Harry was
volatile, but all he got was a concentrated stare.

�� The blood
matters to me,� Draco said.

�� Harry turned
his head away.

�� But I�m
trying not to let it matter,� Draco said, and could have grimaced at how high
and shrill his voice was getting. Then he decided that that might not matter;
maybe Harry would even respond better to it, if he knew that Draco could make the
same kind of mistakes he did. He took a few appealing steps nearer, while Harry
stubbornly continued to stare at the opposite wall. �I do care about you. I can
put up with Granger. I can learn from the teachers who aren�t pure-bloods. Just
because I might want them to behave better or be different kinds of people
doesn�t mean I discount them.�

�� Harry whipped
around to face him. �Wanting them to be different kinds of people doesn�t mean
you discount them?� he asked in incredulity. �Draco, do you even bother to listen
to yourself for one solitary moment sometimes?�

�� Draco shook
his head. �It�s�it�s not a prejudice,� he said. �It�s just something I can�t
help noticing, Harry. It�s the way I
was raised, the same way you were raised by Muggles. I want people to act the
way my parents taught me. I think coldness is politeness. I would rather that
people be reserved and treat me like an adult than like Coronante does, making
bad jokes and then waiting around with this breathless readiness for you to
laugh.�

�� If I was
like that,� Harry asked, his voice low and deadly, �do you think that we would
have become friends, or partners? Or lovers?� He flinched suddenly, though
Draco didn�t understand why until he spoke the next words. �Does it disgust you
every time you touch me, because you think my mother has dirty blood?� he asked
accusingly. He had already taken a step towards the door, as if he intended to
be ready to leave if Draco�s answer didn�t please him.

�� Draco shut
his eyes and shook his head. He would have to take more of a risk than he�d
thought he would, he realized, his heart pounding crazily. He would have to speak
words that he had hoped he would be able to shut up in his heart as long as he
needed to, words that exposed him in a dreadful way.

�� But this is Harry. I know that he�ll give me
a kind hearing, a fair one, which is more than those friends of his or anyone
else in the whole bloody Auror training program would do.

�� Draco took
a deep breath and moved forwards so that he could take Harry�s hands. Harry
wouldn�t let him at first, keeping them stubbornly folded in fists, but Draco
rubbed the back of his knuckles and murmured nonsense words until Harry
gradually let his fingers relax and open. Draco then stroked the webs between his
fingers until Harry was humming under his breath and shifting restlessly.

�� Listen,�
Draco said. �I love you.�

�� Harry�s
humming stopped, and he stared at Draco in open disbelief, his arousal
forgotten in the wake of what he�d just heard.

�� Draco
smiled. He appreciated the reaction, although he would have liked more joy and
less incredulity. �You don�t have dirty blood,� he said. �And your differences
from me, the way you react to things more openly and speak honestly, make us stronger
than being exactly alike would. I don�t know if I could partner with another
pure-blood, tempting as the idea seems. This way, we have contrasting
strengths, and we stand more chance of being able to defend ourselves and fight
our enemies.�

�� Harry
nodded. His eyes were wide and clear again, and he looked at Draco with the
quiet appreciation that Draco thought he might have missed more than even
honest speech in this last little while when they hadn�t been talking. �What
about Hermione and Coronante?� Harry asked. �What do you feel about them? They
can�t benefit you in the same way I do. And you don�t care about them in the
same way.� He had taken Draco�s fingers in turn and was gently caressing the
backs of his hands with tiny movements of his thumb that were driving Draco
mad.

�� I don�t think he�d like me to jump him right
now. Draco took a deep breath to regain control. Which is a pity.

�� I wish
they could behave differently,� he said. �But it really is a matter of culture,
and not blood, the way you put it. I was calling it blood, but that�s because I
was used to using one term and didn�t want to change my mind. I should, though.
Mother always said that being precise in one�s speech is an art in itself. I
should say what I really mean, not use terms that have a taint on them in more
ways than one.�

�� Harry gave
him a sweet, radiant smile. �And you really do love me?� he asked, like a child
going back to a recently-opened present.

�� Draco
chuckled and bowed his head. �More than you can imagine,� he breathed into one
ear, and Harry shivered and reached up and wrapped his arms around Draco�s
neck.

�� Draco lost
track of time for a short while after that, or at least space, as the world
seemed to spin and then realign itself in several different directions. When he
could properly see and think again, he was resting on the bed, with his shirt
on but his pants and trousers stripped off, and Harry was between his legs,
stroking his cock with an intentness that Draco wouldn�t have exchanged for a
thousand pure-blood ancestors.

�� He tossed
his head back and sighed, then moaned when Harry wet one finger and ran it
along the tip of his erection. But Harry didn�t get on with the faster
stroking, which Draco thought was the point of this. Instead, he kept up the
gentle touches until Draco frowned and looked at him for an explanation.

�� I wanted
to be sure you were paying attention,� Harry whispered, and then pulled off his
own trousers and pants and climbed up to lie on Draco, aligning their cocks.

�� Draco
reached up and grasped Harry�s shoulders, holding him in place. This was perfect. They could rub against one
another without fear of one of them falling off, and Harry�s weight was heavy
as a warm sleep against his shoulders and chest, and Harry was kissing him and
moaning into his mouth, and their cocks slipped and wedged against one another
and then slid free again and angled in from the side�

�� Draco let
the world become a blur again, grateful for the sensation and the way that
Harry�s fingers dug into his shoulders and his sides. Their hisses, squeaks,
whimpers, and gasps twined around one another, and Draco arched up and came
feeling as if it had been the sounds that compelled his orgasm instead of the friction.

�� Harry came
against him, shuddering with a strength that did nearly cause him to fall off, after all. He caught himself in
time and kissed Draco�s chin lazily, then licked along his cheekbone to his
ear, which he bit. Draco slapped his arse in retaliation, and Harry drew in his
breath sharply.

�� I didn�t
know you liked that,� Draco said in interest.

�� I like
anything when it�s you doing it,� Harry said in a breathy voice, and lowered
his head to be kissed again. Draco rolled him to the side and reached for his
wand to perform a Cleaning Charm.

�� Harry�s
eyes shone, and Draco relaxed. Confessing his love hadn�t been as bad as he had
thought it would be.

�� And what Harry
had said made sense. It was a difference in culture, not a difference in blood,
that separated Draco from people like Granger and Coronante. He could see that
now. He would use the more precise words because they would please Harry, but
also because they more accurately conveyed what he meant.

�� And he
would try to remind himself that not every instructor could act like Dearborn,
and he probably wouldn�t want them to. Not even Dearborn was a perfect teacher.
He hadn�t been able to show most of his students how to fight in teams when he
tried, which was something Lowell and Weston labored to correct in the
Partnership Trust class.

�� I could choose another mentor, Draco
thought as he kissed Harry, in that hovering moment before he allowed sex to
drown his thoughts completely. This is
supposed to be the year we do that anyway. Go to someone and ask whether he�ll
teach me.

�� Considering
the choices left by Dearborn�s death and the fact that he wanted his new mentor
to be powerful, Draco knew there was only one true choice. Roger Aran, the
Spell Lexicon instructor. He would understand why Draco needed more and
stronger spells to combat his enemies; that was what he wanted the students to
learn in any case.

�� Satisfied
with his plan, Draco gave his full attention back to Harry and slid a hand down
his belly, searching for his cock and rubbing the head. Harry arched with a muffled
cry.

�� Draco bit
his throat, and listened to that cry travel higher.

*

�� Harry lay panting beside Draco,
his eyes closed. Draco was already asleep. He�d barely managed to cast the
Cleaning Charm after their second round, and hadn�t managed to cast it on Harry; he had dozed off in the middle
of a syllable. Harry had done it himself and then curled up next to his
partner.

�� That had
worked, far better than Harry had thought it would when he realized Draco hadn�t
really changed his attitudes towards Muggleborn ancestors. There were still
things they should talk about, but this was a good beginning. For the first
time in weeks, Harry felt like he was seeing Draco, hearing him, and feeling
him when they fucked, instead of a shadow that paled next to some of the other
things he had to consider.

�� And, best
of all, he hadn�t had to confess any of his own secrets. Draco seemed to think Harry
was so honest that he couldn�t have any.

�� Harry put
aside the twinge of guilt. He had to remain as loyal as he could to both Draco
and the dead. This was the best way to do that.

*

�� polka dot:
He should have. Perhaps he would have noticed something about Pushkin�s efforts
that Draco missed.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Thanks for reviewing.

�� anciie:
That�s a very interesting point. Of course, Harry would have to know more than
he does now to recognize and counter Nihil�s use of it.

�� This might
be enough to break the barrier. After all, they did talk and reconnect with
each other.

�� SP777: Pushkin
just doesn�t see the need to explain everything when any fool ought to be able
to observe it.

�� Not really
flow, though it was meant to imply that they were happening at the same time.

�� That may be
true.

�� Dragons
Breath: I didn�t think you were saying that Portillo Lopez would be possessed.
I was just saying that, since it was a trainee who brought Nemo food and thus a
trainee that he would have to possess if he was going to possess the person who
brought him food, Portillo Lopez would be able to test for such an infection
almost at once.

�� There is a
solution to the mystery of the tentacle, but right now they aren�t looking in
the right direction.
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Ceremonies of Strife