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Black Phoenix	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21568 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfic.

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Chapter Thirteen--Flames
            Draco heard a window break in the sitting room two doors down the corridor, and he was on his feet with his wand in hand, creating a defensive shield in front of him, before the house-elves could even call his name in warning.
            He had expected something like this, he had to admit, as he stood still and waited for either the elves or Rosenthal, staying over this evening, to bring him news. Assassination attempts on Ministerial candidates weren't that common, but neither were they unknown. It was likely that the Ministry, or someone else whose interests Draco was working against, would get a bit desperate.
            At the moment, though, they were incompetent assassins, since they hadn't even got the room he was sitting in right. Draco was inclined to stand still instead of running around and panicking.
            The door of his own room opened a few minutes later. Draco leveled his wand, but nodded when Rosenthal peered inside, even though she had a strange expression on her face. Well, Draco couldn't blame her for that. His own heart was only hitting down on every other beat, it seemed.
            "What happened?" he asked.
            "This did," Rosenthal said, and leaned more fully into the room. He saw Persephone sitting on her shoulder then, glittering with blue-black flames that traveled only a centimeter or so from her feathers. She had one talon on Rosenthal's shoulder and the other on her neck, pressing down so hard that Draco rapidly changed his opinion of Rosenthal's expression. She was brave for not screaming.
            In Persephone's beak was a letter.
            Draco glared at her. "So he had to send a black phoenix to get my attention, did he?" he snapped. "Can't he accept that I have no interest in talking to him?"
            Persephone waggled her tail at him, and then launched herself from her perch on Rosenthal, soaring straight over to him. Draco flinched before he could stop himself, but Persephone simply landed on his shoulder, too. Draco shuddered all over. He could feel the phoenix's weight, sure, but even more, he could feel the Dark magic that spread out from her. How did Harry bear it?
            Unless he's further gone regarding Dark magic than I thought, and he doesn't mind it all that much.
            Persephone slowly held out her head until Draco had to jerk his own head back or get stabbed in the eye by her beak. Then she opened her beak and dropped the letter at his feet. And then she took off and landed on the windowsill, preening herself and looking for all the world like an owl who waited to take a letter back.
            Draco grimaced as he looked down at the letter. Somehow, he didn't think this was a time when he would be able to get away with not giving a response.
            He stooped down and picked the envelope up, not taking his eyes off Persephone. She did nothing but give him a single bright look before turning to tend to what seemed to be an important itch in the middle of her back.
            Draco swallowed a little and looked back at the letter. He knew it was from Harry already, because who else would send a letter with Persephone? But it was still a slight shock to see Harry's handwriting on it when he slid it free from the envelope.
            Dear Draco,
            I'm so sorry for not telling you about the werewolves before I announced my decision. You're right, it's a major decision that I should have allowed you to be ready for. It wouldn't have had any influence on whether or not I let them into my court, but you could have used some time to get ready politically.
            Draco raised his eyebrows. That was more reasonable than he had feared, both the apology and the acknowledgment that Harry would have gone ahead and made up his mind on the status of the werewolves without asking for Draco's approval.
            I think I convinced myself that this would be a good thing, an opportunity for you to distance yourself from me politically if that was what you wanted. I forgot that it might not be what you wanted.
            Also halfway reasonable. Draco tapped his finger against his mouth. It was becoming harder for him to remember why he had been so angry at Harry that he had started refusing all his owls and firecalls.
            On the other hand, why in the world had Harry thought he would want to distance himself politically? Draco didn't know if that was just another case, acuter this time than usual, of Harry's political stupidity, or something more severe. He went back to reading.
            Hermione and Briseis and Rosenthal and everyone else has reminded me how difficult associating with me is for your campaign. And I still remember that the initial alliance we made was about me helping you get elected, as well as you doing whatever you could to support my bid to retain control of Hogwarts. I feel like I haven't done a lot to help you. I've tarnished your reputation and made the campaign harder for you, if anything.
            I think you're angrier at me because I made the werewolf decision for you than you are about the campaign, though. Write back to me so I can be sure.
            Yours, always,
            Harry.
            Draco rolled his eyes. Yes, it was a sort of political stupidity on Harry's part. They had grown so much beyond that initial alliance that Draco wasn't sure why Harry was suddenly having an attack of conscience about it.
            But he wasn't going to be sloughed off and ignored in the name of being separate political entities in public. He thought about writing back, but it seemed so much simpler just to go to Hogwarts and talk to Harry.
            When he took a step towards the fireplace, though, he abruptly had a faceful of flying, screaming black phoenix.
            Draco stumbled away, one hand defensively up. He felt talons curl around and score the back of his hand, and he swore and jumped, trying to hit Persephone without thinking about it. Then he drew his wand and raised a Shield Charm, which he should have done in the first place. He knew that Harry wouldn't be happy about Draco getting injured, but he would probably feel the same about Draco injuring his phoenix.
            Persephone screamed so hard that the walls trembled, and flew straight through the shield.
            Draco probably would have stood there like an idiot and let her scratch his face, except that a spell grabbed his ankles and yanked, making him fall flat to the ground. Persephone soared overhead and, from the sound of it, started circling around to try and get him again.
            "I'll write back!" Draco yelled as loud as he could.
            There was silence. A second later, Rosenthal stepped towards him and held out a hand to help him up. Draco grasped it and let her pull him up, nodding his thanks. He already knew that it was her spell that had saved him.
            He looked around the room apprehensively, and spotted Persephone on the far side of it, back near the window. She gave him a single bland look before she once again returned to grooming her feathers as though she had never done anything else.
            "Fucking bird," Draco muttered, and then sat down and began to write. Rosenthal already had parchment and ink ready for him, although that might have been coincidence. She gave him a single significant look, but it could have meant a lot of things, and Draco just shook his head and wrote without speaking.
            Dark Lord Potter,
            Tell your crazy bird that I'm willing to come and talk with you. That doesn't mean that I'm willing to do anything else, yet.
            He didn't bother signing it, even though he was sure that no one would stop and intercept Persephone, and so he didn't really have to worry about someone finding out about their connection this way. If Harry didn't know who it was from, he was too stupid to be worth Draco's time, anyway.
            Draco stood up and turned around, letter extended a nice distance from him. Persephone immediately soared up, took it from his hand, and circled back to the window. Draco tried to raise his wand so he could Vanish the glass before she smashed through it, the way she evidently had with his last window.
            Too late. Black and purple flames flickered out from Persephone's body, and she simply melted a hole in the glass that was exactly as big as her spread wings. She flew out and up, soaring so fast that Draco didn't have time to blink before he lost sight of her.
            "Why would Lord Potter attempt to gain your attention in such a harsh way?"
            Draco turned around. Rosenthal was already holding a Healing Potion. Draco accepted it and swallowed it. He often had a headache or tension in his shoulders of some kind after making a long speech, and Rosenthal was competent enough to know that this situation wouldn't be much less stressful.
            "I don't know that he had much to do with it," Draco said. "He's never sent Persephone on an errand like this before, even when she would be the safest option. My guess is that he didn't know what she intended to do, and she left with the letter before he could stop her."
            Rosenthal frowned some more. "I own, I would be happier if I could believe that."
            "I'm going to believe it until I have reason to learn otherwise," Draco said shortly, and reached for his cloak. "Meanwhile, I'm going to Hogwarts. Don't wait up for me."
            "Don't do anything stupid," Rosenthal murmured before Draco could disappear into the fireplace.
            Draco made a face at her and strode over to cast Floo powder in. His ability to control his temper depended as much on what Harry did as what he had made up his mind to do.
*
            Harry closed his eyes for a second. He managed not to groan, but only because he'd already been through sixteen other interviews already and this was the last one.
            "Mrs. Finkleworth," he said, "I don't think you quite understand. If you become a citizen of my court, you will be obligated to at least be civil to other people who live in it, the same way you would if you were still in the wider wizarding world. You can't be rude to Muggleborns or centaurs just because you want to."
            "I never said I would be rude," said the stiff woman in front of him, who was still sitting on the very edge of her chair when Harry opened his eyes to check. "Only that I would remind them of their place. I hope rank still has a meaning in a world like the one you are building."
            Harry studied her with dislike. Horatia Finkleworth had written him a reasonable letter, and he had agreed to meet with her based on that. But in person, she was an overbearing woman who reminded him of an Augusta Longbottom gone rotten. She just didn't understand that her attitudes weren't shared by everyone.
            "Let me put it to you this way," Harry said, deciding to be blunt. He leaned back in his chair. They were up in his office, and he had to resist the temptation to put his feet up on his desk. "My mother was Muggleborn. Would you be rude to her if you saw her walking down a corridor?"
            Mrs. Finkleworth's mouth dropped open a little. "Well, of course not! She gave birth to a powerful son, and married into a pure-blood family!"
            Harry's eyes narrowed further. "I'll consider your application to live in my court, and let you know my decision in a few days," he said. It was obvious to any fool, he thought, what his decision would be, but Mrs. Finkleworth stood up brushing off her robes and nodding to him, so she was worse than a fool.
            "I'm glad that your court isn't closed to pure-bloods," she said, as she bustled towards the door. "You need some ballast here, someone who can remind you of wizarding traditions."
            Harry counted under his breath until she was gone, partially because Hogwarts was trying to open a trapdoor under her and he had to persuade the castle he was calm, and then sighed. He'd have to read the letters more carefully. Only three of the families or people he had interviewed today showed any sign of realizing that they couldn't have life in his court all the way they wanted it.
            Is the Ministry portraying me as a pushover or something? Or haven't I made it clear what I want, in spite of everything?
            That was when he noticed that his Floo was jumping and flashing with the subtle colored lights it used when someone wanted to come through and it was locked. Harry stared, then waved his hand hastily. That flash of white followed by green meant it was Draco.
            Persephone landed on his desk with a letter at the same moment as Draco finally stepped through and shook soot and dust from his cloak and hair. The glare that he leveled at Harry was impressive.
            "Did you mean to keep me waiting?" he asked. "And you sent such an impressive letter, too. Speedy delivery."
            Harry started to answer, but surged to his feet when he saw the scratch on the back of Draco's hand. "Who did that to you?" he demanded, walking around the desk so that he could cradle Draco's hand and glare at it.
            "Your precious phoenix." Draco had a spectacular sneer, too. "I know you probably didn't tell her to, but in her insistence on me writing back, she may have taken her orders a bit too literally."
            Harry turned around and scowled at Persephone. Persephone promptly turned her head to pick at her feathers, and ostentatiously flicked a wing at the letter she'd carried, shoving it towards him.
            "Did you do this?" Harry asked her, and his voice came out more deadly quiet than he'd meant it to.
            Persephone curled her head upside-down, studying him with one eye. Harry remembered Hermione saying something about how birds did that because they couldn't look at you straight on, due to their beaks. He wasn't amused. He knew perfectly well that Persephone could look at him if she wanted to; she only pretended not to be able to when she wanted to protect herself against his anger.
            "Did you do this?" he repeated, voice quiet.
            Persephone turned and flew out the window she'd flown through to deliver the letter.
            Harry sighed and turned to Draco. "I'm sorry. I really didn't tell her to do that, I promise."
            Draco eyed him for a few seconds, and then snorted and offered him a tentative smile. "Well. Fine. Although what meant more to me was the apology in your letter."
            Harry raised his eyebrows, then nodded. Right. Persephone would have insisted on Draco reading the letter, the way the owls didn't have the power to do. "I should have thought of what you could do with the warning," he said.
            "But you wouldn't have changed your mind about including the werewolves in your court, or announcing that decision publically," Draco said, and folded his arms as though that would keep him from lunging forwards and shaking Harry.
            "I might have delayed the announcement a bit, if you told me that you needed time to come up with a strategy," Harry said. "But no."
            Draco watched him stolidly. "The more I think about this, the more bewildered I get. What did you hope to accomplish by distancing yourself from me, even assuming that I would be willing to let you go? Did you think that there were people who wouldn't connect us because they were dazzled by the fact that I hadn't said anything about werewolves while you had?"
            Harry winced. "Well, of course, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid," he complained.
            "Answer me," Draco said.
            Harry sighed. "I did want to give you the chance to back up. I did think that I was dragging your campaign down. I suppose that I didn't want to face up to you having a negative reaction, or telling me that I was being silly, when I did--I really did think that I might be causing you problems. But in trying to avoid that, I just caused you some more. I'm sorry."
            Draco was silent, frowning. Then he nodded. "Apology accepted," he said. "But I want some advance notice in the future of any huge thing you plan. Not individuals being accepted into your court, or you deciding to set up new defenses. But admitting a whole species of new magical creatures? That's huge."
            "All right," Harry said meekly.
            Draco frowned at him again. "I haven't completely forgiven you."
            "I know," Harry said. "I think that's the way it should be."
            Draco rolled his eyes and came forwards to kiss him. "Ridiculous martyr complex," he muttered, and turned towards the fire.
            "Let me," Harry said, and reached out to catch Draco's hand. When he concentrated on it, the scratch faded and knitted back into the skin, a thin red line persisting for a minute before it also vanished.
            "Thank you," Draco said, and his face was softer this time as he kissed Harry again. But he still didn't stay, and after a moment of watching him go, Harry had to acknowledge that they probably both needed time.
            Meanwhile, he had to think of what he was going to do with Persephone when she came back. Whether he let her get away with injuring him or not, he wasn't going to permit it when it came to his friends and lover.
*
            BAFan: If he talks to her about it. Neither one of them might.
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Black Phoenix