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The Same Species As Shakespeare	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16108 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Fourteen�Serpent�s
Egg

�� Draco
waited until he got back to his own room to explode. It was the one advantage
he had so far seen from Potter�s staying in a guest bedroom whilst he
recovered.

�� And even
then, the explosion was nothing like the storm of screaming and temper that
Weasley would no doubt have expected from him, because of course Weasley was that vulgar. Instead, Draco closed his door and
locked it with several complicated warding charms. If his father or Severus
came seeking him in the next half-hour, they would know to retire until he
opened the door to them of his own free will. Draco imagined the expressions on
their faces and experienced his first surge of pleasure since Weasley had
arrived.

�� Weasley.

�� Potter was
so pathetic that he must have summoned one of his friends the moment he sensed
that he might lose the game to Draco and his own overwhelming desire. He had
ever wanted to be a winner; he had never cared about cheating. But of course he
had to preserve the appearance of
genuine competence, so he couldn�t simply demur from Draco�s advances. He had
to invite a friend who just happened to disapprove of Draco and just happened to
want to stand in the way instead.

�� Draco�s
hands clenched. His fingers dug hard enough into the skin of his palms to bring
blood flowing. He opened his hands and gazed at the streams of red spilling
free without expression.

�� Blood. Like
the blood he had wanted to bear down to his room where the collection of
artifacts from Potter�s body waited.

�� This game
he played with Potter was a dance of desire and a dance of blood. Heat and
passion, deep feelings that Weasley, with his shallow relationship with a woman
who hadn�t even known she was a witch before her eleventh birthday, couldn�t
comprehend. He could guard his friend, yes, but never enough. In the end,
Potter�s own longing for Draco would pull him out from under that guardianship
and deliver him to Draco.

�� Draco could
feel his breath quickening as he pictured Potter creeping into his bed, shaken
by his own lust. His imaginary Potter reached out and traced a hand above the
hairs on his arm, and then the dream Draco rolled on top of him and
half-smothered him into the bed, clasping his shoulders and kissing him
greedily. Draco discovered in that moment that it was possible to be jealous of
oneself.

�� He merely
had to tempt, to show himself to Potter in good lights and with longing glances
of his own until Potter�s groin overpowered his reason. He was healing rapidly,
and so he would lose the chance to use his wound as an excuse in a few days. He
would return to full-time duty protecting Draco.

�� He would see Draco, as Draco had not before shown
himself to anyone. There had been no one else he desired to defeat this much.

�� Potter
admired him as an architect, didn�t he? Then he should see the Keller house,
which Draco was ready to begin preparing.

�� Potter was
drawn to his physical attributes. Draco knew a number of potions and subtle
charms that would show them off and make it seem like nothing more than the
normal effect of attraction when Potter responded; the potions, in particular,
could be tuned to one recipient, the way that love potions usually were.

�� Potter
liked touching him, and he liked sweet, soft words, the way that all
Gryffindors did. Draco could sacrifice his own dignity for a few days, when he
knew he would win the greater gift of Potter�s humiliation. His vengeance would
be more vicious because of that sacrifice, anyway.

�� Draco felt
his tense lips, tightly clamped shut just a moment ago, relaxing into a smile.

�� He would
have Potter, after all.

*

�� What do
you think you�re doing, mate?�

�� What made
the words hard to hear was that Ron spoke so kindly. He�d taken the chair Draco
had occupied the moment the other man left the room, and he stared Harry
straight in the eyes as he spoke, a faint, sad smile on his face. His voice
demanded nothing�or rather, it suggested that he knew Harry had a reasonable
answer he would give as soon as he was reasonably asked for it. It had never
been like this in the past, when his friends had assumed he was obsessed with
Draco for no good reason.

�� Harry
stared at his hands instead, and swallowed. He had an idea now what Ron must
have seen when he opened the door, and for all that he believed Draco was
worthy of regard and esteem, he flushed.

�� Why do you
want him so much?� Ron whispered. �Isn�t there anyone, anyone, in the world who could possibly mean what he does to you
and be less dangerous? Please, Harry.� He reached out and laid a gentle,
insistent hand on Harry�s knee. His fingers came near the wound. They didn�t
really hurt, but Harry was glad enough of the excuse to flinch and stir so that
Ron could see the full extent of the bandaging. Maybe he would feel sorry
enough for Harry to give up the questioning.

�� Merlin.�

�� Ron was on
his feet, and his expression had hardened to the point that Harry felt briefly
sorry for the imposter. Then Ron flicked his wand, and a sluice of cool,
soothing magic cascaded over the injury. Harry sighed and leaned his head back
on the pillow, free of pain for the first time since he�d awoken that morning.

�� They don�t
even give you proper healing spells, do they?� Ron shook his head, eyes
fastened on Harry�s face. �Mate, please. Say
that you�ll heal and then let Kingsley pull you off the case, or at least this
part of it. I�ve discovered a few clues that might eventually lead us closer to
who this bloke is. Protect Malfoy from that direction. Leave this part of it to
me.�

�� Harry bit
his lip. Ron had never begged him for anything like he was begging for this
now.

�� I can�t,�
he said, and then wondered that he had. He�d meant to keep silent and let Ron
get upset at him for being a stubborn arse, but no. That wasn�t quite good
enough anymore. He had to try to explain, even though he doubted anyone outside
this private dance between him and Malfoy could understand. He lifted his head
and sought Ron�s eyes, wondering for a moment what his own looked like. Blind,
sun-dazzled, filled with a lack of
sense? Maybe. �Ron, he�s like gravity. He draws me, and if I tried to go
elsewhere, all I would think about would be him. I couldn�t possibly do a good
job on the investigation. I would run back to the Manor at the earliest
opportunity, or maybe get myself killed if the imposter appeared in front of me
again. I have to go over the
waterfall, or go into the trap, or�use whatever metaphor you want to use, I�ve
got to do it.�

�� Ron stared
at him with his lips slightly parted. Then he whistled shakily and sat down.
The last thing Harry expected to hear him whisper was, �I understand.�

�� Harry
blinked.

�� I knew a
woman like that once,� Ron went on, staring up at the ceiling. Harry looked up,
too, but saw only the curves and patterns of snowflakes melting into streams
that he had memorized in his first day flat on his back. The Malfoys favored more
delicate decorations for their guest rooms than the ones they lived in, it
seemed. �It was during that period of about six months right before Hermione
and I got back together, you remember? That stretch of time when we didn�t
speak to each other at all?�

�� Harry
nodded. He retained his own memories of that time, when he had been Ron�s
friend and Hermione�s friend, but couldn�t be both at the same moment, which
had always been possible before. Sometimes it came back to him in dreams as a series
of months when he had walked across blazing stone. He�d gone off by himself and
got drunk and maudlin and weepy when they�d finally started speaking again.

�� There was
a woman in the second month.� Ron closed his eyes as if he could see her before
him again. �I saw her when I was doing some shopping for Ginny�s birthday in
Diagon Alley. Standing behind one of the counters; I didn�t know then if she
was a patron at the shop or if she worked there. She had a sapphire in one hand,
set in a silver star-shaped pendant. The silver was the exact shade of her
hair.�

�� She was
older?� Harry blinked. If he had to say anything against Ron, it would be that
his friend was sometimes shallow in the way he related to women, Hermione and
his sister excepted. He tended to drool over Fleur even now when he thought she
wasn�t looking. Harry wouldn�t have thought an older woman had the chance to
attract Ron.

�� She had
silver hair,� Ron said with a curious obstinacy in his voice. �And she looked
up, and I saw her eyes were green, about the shade of yours, mate. That was all
I cared about. And there was an expression on her face as if she�d been using
the pendant to see the future, and it had actually worked. That dreaming
serenity.� He half-closed his eyes this time. �She turned around, put the
pendant down on the counter, and walked out of the shop. I followed her. I had
to know her name, see where she went.

�� I never
learned the first, not for certain. I heard someone call her Rebecca. That was
enough for me. It was like learning her last name would make her too real, and
then I�d have to think about whether I�d heard of her family, what side of the
war they fought on, whether she had relatives in the Auror Department�� Ron
gave a harsh shrug of his shoulders and leaned forwards, staring intently at
Harry. �You know what I mean?�

�� Harry
nodded slowly. He had gone through enough contortions in his head, God knew,
when he had first begun to be attracted to Draco, mentally separating Draco
from the man who had hurt Ginny with Tom Riddle�s diary and the boy who had
nearly killed Ron and Katie Bell in their sixth year. The arguments he used to
persuade himself weren�t always reasonable, but what did fascination care about
reason?

�� I listened
to her speak. Her voice paralyzed me. I didn�t want to go up to her and
introduce myself, though I could have. As far as I knew, I would never marry
Hermione at that point. But I just wanted to be quiet and look at her.�

�� Harry
shivered and licked his lips. He wanted to say that that didn�t make sense,
that Ron couldn�t have fallen in love just from looking at this woman, and that
he obviously had got back together
with Hermione and loved her again. And if Ron had managed to fall in love with
this Rebecca somehow, why hadn�t he gone and talked to her? Nothing about it
made any sense.

�� Except that
it did. Except that it was how he felt with Draco, when the other man touched
him and Harry thought he would give up his job as an Auror and his freedom and
his eyesight to have Draco look at him with passion, kiss him, stroke him and
bind his hands above his head.

�� I understand, mate,� Ron said, his voice
so quiet that his words came to Harry like an echo. �I understand how persuasive
and gripping fascination is, and that you can�t really let go of it when you�re
in it. You want just a little more, just a touch or a glance or an
acknowledgment from the object of your obsession. That would be enough to satisfy
you, you tell yourself. Just that much and you�ll go. When you know that�s not the truth, and you�ll
never be satisfied until or unless you get as much from that person as you�ve
invested in them.

�� Mate, I
pulled back from it after three days of watching her. I understood what my obsession
was doing to me�drugging me, stealing the best part of my life to moon over a
woman who wouldn�t have understood even if I approached her. She was a private,
self-contained person; I learned that much from the days I watched her. She
couldn�t have understood falling in love within three minutes, and that would
have made me unhappy, because I needed her to understand that.�

�� You didn�t
fall in love with Hermione in three minutes,� Harry muttered, determined not to
comprehend what Ron was trying to tell him.

�� No,� said
Ron. �But that�s all right, because my relationship with her isn�t obsessive.�
Harry would have liked to snort at that, remembering how closely Ron and
Hermione had watched each other during their sixth year and how jealous they
had been of the people the other had dated in their place, but he couldn�t. He
and Ron understood each other too well, on far
too many levels, during this conversation, and mockery would throw Ron�s
confidence and gesture of trust back in his face. �You need someone to match
you in passion when you fall that strongly. And I don�t think Malfoy can.�

�� You haven�t
seen the way he looks at me sometimes.�

�� Ron�s face
was grave. �I don�t need to. Frankly, mate, it doesn�t matter if he feels as strongly about you as you
do about him. His passion�s not�not clean.�

�� Harry
scowled. �You�ll never get over the fact that he was a Death Eater, will you?�

�� Not what I
meant,� Ron said. His eyes reflected disappointment that made Harry squirm,
which irritated the wound, which required Ron to use another healing spell. He
looked a bit calmer when he continued. �What I meant was that he might want
you, might think he loves you, but there�s something sneaky and cowardly and
self-interested behind it. You want to give him things. He wants to take them
from you.�

�� You don�t
know how he�s changed, Ron. You�re basing your conclusions on what he used to be like��

�� I think it�s
a lot more likely that he�s changed in some
things, as many as he needs to to gain back some reputation and some
clients after the war,� Ron said sharply. �In other things, why shouldn�t he be
exactly the same? He wouldn�t want to abandon ambition or give up the hopes of
a grand victory someday.�

�� Harry
sighed. �The truth of the matter is that you haven�t watched him long enough,
and I have, even during times when he didn�t know I was there. He couldn�t have
been putting on a show all the time.�

�� Was he
with other people?� Ron asked.

�� What?�
Harry didn�t know what that question meant. �Do you mean, did he have other
lovers? Sure he did, and so did I, but it�s not like I knew that he could
possibly be interested in me that way, and he��

�� I mean,�
Ron said patiently, �did you ever watch him when he was by himself, or only
when he was with clients?�

�� With
clients, mostly,� Harry said, wondering what the point of this question was. �Sometimes
he was by himself for a minute or two.�

�� Then he
was still acting,� said Ron. �You�ve drawn your knowledge of him from that
performance, Harry.�

�� He�s been
alone with me plenty of times over the last few days,� Harry snapped, stung.
Really, where did Ron get off imagining he knew Draco better than Harry did? He
knew some parts of Draco. Harry was
willing to admit that Draco had a cruel streak, that not every trait of his
personality was equally attractive. But Ron hadn�t guarded Draco, he hadn�t
saved his life, and he hadn�t seen Draco�s instant contrition when he�d opened
Harry�s wound with his savage kiss earlier. �I think I know him.�

�� You think.�
Ron shook his head, mouth set in a hard line. �No, mate. I�m sorry. I tried to
stay out of it as long as I could, because I thought Hermione was being
paranoid and intruding far too much into your life with that bloody ring of
hers. But you�ll run your head blindly into the noose. I�m stepping between you
and Malfoy as of this moment.� He stood up, turned, and walked out of the room.

�� Ron!�
Harry shouted after him. He sat up and then winced as he felt a warning pull
from the wound. But he didn�t care, even though he couldn�t get out of bed. �Ron,
what the fuck are you doing?� The door shut with no sign that Ron had heard him
or was going to turn back. �Ron, sod off!�

*

�� Draco had
gone to the Manor�s Quidditch Pitch as the first step in his new plan. Potter
would probably come out soon, seeking him, and why shouldn�t he see Draco
soaring gracefully above the grass on his new Clearstar broom? Let him stare
and admire, perhaps even envy. Draco no longer made a habit of chasing
Snitches, but he would wager he�d been up on a broom more often in the last
several years than Potter, who seemed to be busy either with Auror work or
entertaining a traitorous lover.

�� Among whom you will soon number.

�� Draco bit
his lip hard enough to draw blood and directed the Clearstar into a hawk-like
circle. Of course he was different than the hapless men and women who swarmed
into Potter�s bed, drawn by fame and what they saw as beauty. He was repaying
Potter�s treachery to him, which had
begun when they were eleven years old and never really stopped, since Potter
hadn�t once apologized.

�� A movement
behind him made him look down, and he started to stoop the broom before he realized
the figure had red hair. He curled his lip and turned his head away. Perhaps
Weasley would carry the report of his flying to Potter, and then the idiot
would drag himself out of the bed to look. Of course, Weasley was much more
likely to lie and say that Draco had flown poorly, but�

�� Malfoy! I
want to talk to you.�

�� Draco
flinched. Of course. How crude. Weasley
might not have a broom of his own, but he�d cast Sonorus and direct his voice all over the Pitch as if he had
something important to say. Draco turned and gave him the flaying look that he
used with clients who wanted him to add an extra wing onto the house at the
original price. It was too bad that the distance between them meant Weasley wouldn�t
see it and grasp all the nuances Draco wanted him to take away. �Go away,
Weasley,� he called back. �I have nothing to say to you.�

�� That doesn�t
matter,� said Weasley. �You only need ears to listen to me, not a voice to
speak responses. I�m interested in your brain, though God knows if I can reach
it.�

�� Draco
bristled, and then wondered why. It wasn�t as though Weasley�s insults were
brilliant ones he wished he had thought of himself, or strong enough to sting.
He was in a hypersensitive mood because he wanted to impress Potter, he
supposed, and so far Potter had not been obliging enough to let Draco do that.

�� I
understand all about obsession,� said Weasley. �I understand that Harry isn�t
the kind of person who hurts the one he�s obsessed with. He�s more likely to
hurt himself, and hover around the fringes of your life and worship, and get
his heart quietly broken when you finally wed some pure-blood bitch.�

�� Draco bit
the corner of his mouth so he wouldn�t call back that Potter would get his
heart broken before then. Honestly, there was no need to shout his plans to the
world just because he was rather bereft of an audience at the moment. Sometimes
Draco simply didn�t understand his own instincts.

�� But you,� said Weasley, and his voice held a
world of loathing that made Draco wish they were on the ground, face to face,
and Weasley could clearly see the crystalline contempt in his expression. �You�ll
try to rip the one you�re obsessed with limb from limb, as punishment for their
making you focus on something beside yourself. You�ll befoul what you touch on
purpose, because you can�t tolerate the idea that anyone else would get
satisfaction or pleasure from it. I know you,
Malfoy, much better than Harry does. And hear this. I won�t let you hurt him. I�ll
make him hate me, if I have to, because he won�t hate you, but that�s better
than letting him bleed from a wound that would destroy his entire life.�

�� And Weasley
turned and walked away.

�� For long
moments afterwards, Draco continued to hover on his broom, hands clamped around
his broom handle, his breath so thick with anger it felt as if he were
strangling on the sputum from a cough. Then he managed to relax the hold of his
hands and loop around in a large circle, thinking hard.

�� Would
Weasley actually be a threat? He had no idea what Draco planned to do to
Potter. He was surely no match for a Potter who actually wanted to sleep with
Draco, since Potter was the more magically powerful. But it was possible he
could appeal to Potter�s conscience and friendship and sense of shame, and make
it harder for Draco. Or he might even manage to tip things the other way in a
delicate moment.

�� Yes, he
would have to ensure that Potter slipped out to meet him as soon as it was
practical for him to do so, with his wound. The courtship and seduction were
best off taking place out of Weasley�s sight.

�� Draco.�

�� Draco
started and looked down. It sounded as if Severus had spoken right next to him,
but he was waiting on the far side of the Pitch, staring upwards. He hadn�t
used Sonorus, of course�he had more
dignity than that�but a spell that projected his voice directly from his lungs
to Draco�s ear. Draco dropped in a stoop that made Severus shake his head and
landed in front of his mentor.

�� Severus
looked him over in silence. Draco thought there was a hint of disapproval
behind the glassy surface of his eyes, but he had no idea why that would exist,
if it did. He generally only became angry when Draco ruined a potion, and that
hadn�t happened in years.

�� I have one
caution to speak to you,� said Severus at last. �It is the only interference I will
permit myself in this affair, the only debt I owe.�

�� Draco
blinked. His father had told him that Severus had healed Potter�s wound, but
what in the world did that healing have to do with Draco?

�� Potter is
not the hero I thought him,� said Severus, �not the mindless attention-seeker.
When he was nearly fainting with the pain of his wound, he still concentrated
long enough to tell me about the attacker. He was concerned with the danger to you, and standing between you and that
danger.� Severus curled is lip. �If you harm him, you will do worse than bring
the wrath of the Ministry down on you. You will betray the friendship of
someone who has decided that you are worth guarding.�

�� Draco
laughed. There was simply no other response possible to a declaration that
absurd. �Severus, what he feels for me isn�t friendship.�

�� It is only
practical,� said Severus, �that you delay your vengeance until this imposter is
in custody and you no longer need Potter�s protection.�

�� Draco
immediately shook his head. That was impossible, and he was somewhat mystified Severus
didn�t know that. Would he have been
able to give up vengeance against Potter when it was within his grasp? �I won�t
do that.�

�� Severus
bowed his head. �This is the only interference I will permit myself,� he
repeated, and then turned and walked away.

�� Draco
snorted and kicked his broom into the air again, where he did several violent
swoops and dives to relieve his feelings. First Weasley and then Severus. Even
his father might have tried, if he didn�t already know that Draco was committed
to ignoring him. Could no one else understand that Draco needed this, and that what he needed should be allowed to be more
important, for once, than Potter�s life?��

*

�� Thrnbrooke:
Severus does mention, honestly, what he figured out here.

�� linagabriev:
The imposter really does look a lot like Draco. The snarl his face took on was
partially an exaggeration of how angry he was�and remember that we saw him
through Harry�s perspective.

�� Severus
gives part of the reason that he was
so startled to Draco here. On the other hand, there may be other things he�s
learned and other things he�s planning to do that he didn�t reveal.

�� Draco�s
thoughts deliberately skirt the edges of cannibalism and murder. He wants to
consume Harry, to own him. You can call that obsessive love or obsessive hate;
it�s meant to touch on both.

�� Ron will
try to save Harry. Since persuasion does not work, he�s simply going to go
around him.

�� Jilliane:
Harry tolerates Hermione�s more annoying characteristics, and he did think
Hermione might have some reason to be worried about Draco. But now he�s
hardening his defenses; he really does want to believe that Draco is good as he
becomes more and more attracted to him. Hermione has lost the chance she had to
make Harry keep wearing the ring by being too annoying about it.

�� I�m glad
you like the story. Snape continues to be a mystery character, partially on purpose,
because of course he�s the only major character without a POV. Lucius and
Narcissa�s relationship is explored more in-depth in the future, as it is a
slightly different theme of obsession than I�m using in the rest of the story.

�� fallenangel1129:
Ron is stubborn at times and an arse at others, but he really does try to understand
his friend. This chapter was his attempt at connecting with Harry and trying to
persuade him by reason that it�s better to get rid of obsessions like this. It
didn�t work, so now he�s about ready to try a different tack.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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The Same Species As Shakespeare