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Inter Vivos	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 42948 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter
Fourteen�Revelation

�� Severus sat
in the stands and watched as Potter stumbled out of the maze that comprised the
Third Task, well behind the triumphant Diggory. He curled his lip. Even the Delacour girl emerged before he did.
Quite a showing for our Champion.

�� But then, what should I have expected? He
did not have help this time, and that affects him immeasurably.

�� Potter
leaned his head against the woven wall of the hedge and stood there a moment,
as if exhausted. Perhaps he really was. Severus felt his lip curl still more. He is exhausted from traversing a maze and a
series of carefully chosen obstacles, which were meant to try but not defeat
the Champions. How in the world will he manage to fight a war?

�� Potter!�

�� Draco�s
shout cracked like a whip from the stands. Severus saw Potter�s eyes flare open
briefly and his face stiffen in the moment before he turned around to face
Draco. Several Slytherins had scrambled out of the way to let Draco through,
all of them staring at him in confusion. They knew by now that he favored
Potter�s company.

�� But no one
knew that this was the demonstration Potter and Draco were staging to convince
Lucius that Draco was firmly on his father�s side. And Draco was impeccable,
his face set and harsh. Severus couldn�t have been prouder of him.

�� As it was,
Potter had far too much emotion shining in his eyes and almost working its way
down his cheeks in tears, but that was to be expected, though Severus. He was
not and never would be what Draco was. Besides, it was probably right for the
purposes of this deception that he should show what he really felt.

�� Draco?�
Potter whispered, and shifted his weight as if he would reach out. But Draco
halted, folding his arms and sneering like an expert, and Potter stopped,
clenching his hand into a fist instead. He looked utterly taken aback. Severus
swallowed a sneer of his own. He suspected there was true shock mixing with the
pretense. Had Potter thought Draco would try to spare him pain, when his life might depend on how Lucius judged the
next few moments? Severus was tired of Potter�s thoroughly selfish assumptions
and motivations, but he didn�t know that he had yet seen one the equal of this.

�� I thought
you were better than this,� Draco said. �I thought you were going to be the
Hogwarts Champion. And what do I find now?� He made a wide, sweeping gesture
with one arm that seemed to take in the avid watchers, the shocked judges, the
staring Diggory, and the silent hedge maze. �You�ve lost because you weren�t fast enough.�

�� Draco��
Potter began again.

�� Just a
matter of speed,� Draco said, and his
voice grew more and more hectoring and spiteful, and Severus heard a few of his
Slytherins exchange shocked snickers. �You have enough of it on your broom. Why
couldn�t you have it here?�

�� You don�t
know what I faced in that maze,� said Potter. A growing flush colored his
cheeks, tearing at Severus�s emotions. On the one hand, Potter would be
expected to feel anger on having a friend betray him publicly like this; on the
other, it seemed as though his anger was genuine, and he had no right to feel that, not when Draco was risking so much
for him. �Obstacles that you couldn�t��

�� I wasn�t
available to help you prepare this time,� Draco interrupted, brushing his hands
together, as though he meant to scrape Potter�s objections away like so much
dust. �And so you depended on the Mudblood, didn�t you?�

�� A profound
silence followed the speaking of that word. Potter closed his eyes for a
moment. Then he opened them and said in a steady voice, �If you�re going to
call one of my real friends that,
then you might as well get out of my sight.�

�� Draco
laughed. �You don�t control Hogwarts, Potter. Expect to run across me again.
And I�m going to make you pay for losing the Tournament and making me look like
a fool for supporting you.� He turned away with a dignity that made Severus
want to rise to his feet and break out in spontaneous applause.

�� For a few
more moments, Potter stayed on the field, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. Then his
friends pelted down from the stands towards them, and he spread his arms to
embrace them.

�� Severus
snorted, both irritated and satisfied. No doubt the boy�s embrace of them would
be so complete that he would have tried to distance himself from Draco and Severus
again when he returned for the autumn term. No doubt Severus would have to give
him a stern speech about the risk they were both running and command his attention before he would
deign to give it.

�� But such a
speech would do no good now, when the boy had been going about pale and silent
ever since the Dark Lord returned�as if he
were the one who ran the risk of being a spy, or as if he were going back to a hostile father who had be to fooled at all costs�and
when he had part of the crowd�s sympathy on his side, given his insult. Severus
would save it for a time when the boy�s arrogance needed crushing in private.

*

�� Harry!
That�s so unfair.� Hermione was almost crying, and she hugged him so tight that
Harry found it hard to talk.

�� I always
knew Malfoy was up to no good, mate.� Ron was patting his back over and over,
but mostly, his voice sounded peaceful. He�d had his suspicions about Draco
proved right, Harry thought, and that was all that mattered to him.

�� Harry
himself wanted to draw his wand and start casting curses, and never stop. Or he
wanted to get into an empty classroom and slam his fists into the stone the way
he had after Seamus had burned his things in second year. Or he wanted to talk
to someone who would really understand,
someone who would listen and nod and not try to tell him he was wrong for
feeling things that he knew were wrong, like that Draco had abandoned him.

�� Harry knew
that wasn�t really what had happened. He knew
that. He had agreed with Draco that this was the way to fool the students
who had only slowly got used to the idea of a friendship between Harry Potter
and Draco Malfoy and would easily believe that it had fallen apart again. They
didn�t have to worry about the professors, who were under Dumbledore�s control
as to what they would and would not notice.

�� But he
couldn�t do anything about his feelings. This had been so much harder than he
imagined it would.

�� But he
couldn�t have any of those things. And he had to remember that Draco and Snape
were making sacrifices, too, and if he showed too easily how devastated he was,
then someone might suspect something. Like that Draco had meant more to him
than Harry had allowed himself to show. So he took a rasping, sniffling breath,
and rubbed his face with his hand, and said, �I don�t want to go to the Great
Hall for dinner tonight. Why don�t we sneak into the kitchens, get some food,
and then come out here and eat it?�

�� By the
lake?� Hermione sounded skeptical only for a moment. Then she seemed to
remember that most of the school would be inside congratulating Cedric, and she
brightened. �That sounds like a great idea, Harry!�

�� Abruptly,
something soft and cold pushed against Harry�s hand. He turned around, startled
and starting to lift his wand, but stopped when he saw the huge black dog
standing there, panting at him and wagging its tail.

�� Even though
it was dangerous for Sirius to be out here, Harry had to laugh, a little. He
had promised that he would come to see the Third Task, and he had. And there
was sympathy in his eyes. Harry knew that he couldn�t expect perfect
understanding, because there was no such thing, but understanding was nice.

�� I think
someone wants to join our picnic,� he said, and looked around cautiously. Most
of the school had already streamed inside. A few of the spectators had lingered
to talk with the judges, but they were on the other side of the maze and didn�t
seem to be paying any attention, so Harry flung his arms around Padfoot�s neck.
The dog licked his face and wagged his tail so hard that Harry almost fell on
the ground, because the wagging made the dog�s body wriggle, too.

�� Let me go
get the food,� Ron said, his voice sharp with something that sounded like
relief. �Harry, you stay out here with�with the dog, and I�ll��

�� I�ll come
with you,� Hermione said, and Harry knew she was doing it to give him and
Sirius some time alone.

�� When both
his best friends were hurrying towards the castle, Harry looked around again.
There were still people not far from them, so Sirius couldn�t transform yet,
but that didn�t prevent Harry from leaning over and whispering into his ear,
�That hurt. It hurt so much.�

�� Sirius
licked his face, and Harry sighed. Yes, he hurt, but he�d get over it. And as long
as the display kept Draco safe and convinced Lucius that his son�s heart really
belonged to him, then it was worth it.

*

�� Legilimens!�

�� Draco
reeled backwards, gasping, but he held Professor Snape�s eyes, and the mental
probe that snapped towards him�as darting and shining and sharp as a sword,
Draco thought�fell back with an almost audible clang from the mental shields he had lifted.

�� Snape tried
again, this time coming in from the side. (He had told Draco that all the ways one
could imagine a mental contest were really only substitutions for what was
really happening, metaphors to help him understand, but Draco thought thinking
of it as a duel was useful). Draco faced the strike directly again, spinning
his shields so that the probe shattered against them. Snape actually staggered
for a moment. Draco lowered his eyes so that the professor wouldn�t see how
pleased he was with that. Snape had graciously agreed to give up a lot of his free
time for the past month to teach Draco Occlumency. The least Draco could do was
not appear smug about it.

�� He had asked Professor Snape why Harry
wasn�t included in the lessons, and had received a short answer about how it
was absolutely unsafe for Potter to be seen around him right now. Draco
reckoned he could accept that.

�� Excellent,�
Snape said, when he could speak. Draco looked up, surprised; usually Snape
attacked him twenty times before taking a break. And he never gave open
compliments. But Snape stepped back now and grasped the edge of his desk, giving
Draco a thin smile. �You have a natural talent for Occlumency, Draco. I hope
that you continue to nurture it, because few possess it, and it will serve you
well if you must meet the Dark Lord.�

�� Draco
closed his eyes. The way Harry had described his meeting with the Dark Lord was enough to make him ill. �I hope
I don�t have to,� he muttered.

�� I hope so
for you as well,� Severus said. �And in truth, based on what Lucius said to me
after the last meeting, it is unlikely to happen. I think he would consider it
too great a honor for you at the moment.� He took a shuffling step. Draco
opened his eyes and found the professor staring intently at him from a few feet
away. �But if it happens, you will do anything to survive. Do you understand,
Draco? Betray Potter if you must. Give up small scraps of information so that
they might not suspect the deeper truth.�

�� Draco
picked at his nails, and said nothing.

�� Draco.�

�� I can�t
betray him,� Draco said. �That would make me feel as ill as meeting the Dark
Lord.�

�� But if it
comes to a choice between that and dying��

�� I think
the Dark Lord would kill me anyway, if he found out how much I was trying to
help Harry.� Draco glared stubbornly at his teacher. �Even though Father
wouldn�t, and won�t, because that impotency spell Harry cast means that he
needs me because he can�t have another heir now. I�ll remember what you said,
sir, but if you could betray him like that�well, I couldn�t.� He folded his
arms and continued glaring.

�� After
another few seconds, Snape grunted and turned away, as if he hadn�t lost the
staring contest. Draco dropped his arms and carefully concealed a smile.

�� We shall
have to be grateful, I suppose, if Potter does not himself betray us, with the
amount of time he�s spending with his friends and his godfather,� Snape said
then, his voice sharp.

�� Draco
raised an eyebrow at the professor�s back. What
did you expect? he wanted to say. Harry�s
forbidden from approaching us, and you made sure to ridicule him worse than
ever in his first Potions class after the Dark Lord�s return. Of course he�s
going to spend time with the people who care for him and can associate with him
openly. Or kind of openly, in Black�s case.

�� But he
didn�t say that, both because he did still want to be gracious with Snape and
because he understood the jealousy. He didn�t like it himself when he saw Harry
and the Weasel laughing together. Dumbledore had decreed that it would be too
dangerous for them to meet during the rest of the term, and Draco understood
that, but Harry seemed able to forget it too easily. All he ever did was glare
at Draco now. Draco saw no trace of the longing for their friendship in him
that he felt himself.

�� We�ll survive, he told himself. I can meet him as soon as the autumn term
starts, and that�s not long. Eight weeks. I�ll make it.

�� Besides, he
had the challenge of Lucius and the summer to get through first. He
straightened his shoulders as he thought about it.

�� I�ll beat him. I�ll do so well that he can�t
help but believe me. Of course I�ll be resentful and slip up sometimes, but he
would actually be more suspicious if that didn�t happen, I think. And I can
send a house-elf for Snape if things get bad.

�� He felt a moment�s fleeting envy
for Harry then, who would get to vanish into the Muggle world for the summer
and not have to deal with anything like this.

*

�� Severus.�

�� Severus
kept his arms folded as he bowed to the Dark Lord. He needed to convey a
certain image to the man just as Draco needed to convey a certain image to
Lucius: that of a servant who would do his duty but needed some time to
remember what that duty should be.

�� It was
reasonable. Severus had served as Dumbledore�s Potions master for years, and
thought that was all he would be for the rest of his life. The Dark Lord�s
resurrection had come as a shock to everyone except Lucius, Wormtail, and Barty
Crouch, Jr. Of course Severus would need time to recover his balance and
remember the role he had last played fourteen years ago.

�� But the
Dark Lord was neither reasonable nor accustomed to listening to the excuses of
others.

�� I had
thought you would have invented more new Potions than this.� A thin, pale hand
reached out and ran fingers like a spider�s over the collection of vials that
Severus had placed on the table between them. Severus thought he could almost
see the Dark Lord�s lip curl in disgust. He held back his indignation�could
anyone else in the Dark Lord�s service have brewed twelve new potions in
fourteen years?�and his own disgust behind well-composed Occlumency shields.

�� My lord, I
invented three of them in the first year alone,� Severus replied smoothly.
�Then Dumbledore�� and it didn�t take much effort to spit the name, not when
his guilt and his vows to Dumbledore were what had compelled him to return to
spying in the first place ��discovered what I was about through monitoring my
purchases, and placed me under an Unbreakable Vow not to buy any more of the
obvious poisons or even the elements like quicksilver, which, as you know, my
lord, are useful for so many dangerous potions.�

�� The Dark
Lord raised his eyes and stared directly at Severus. Severus felt the skillful
Legilimency probe sliding into his brain like the tongue of a poisonous snake.
He flipped his shields smoothly underneath it, films of oil floating on water. He
had to not only conceal his real thoughts and emotions, but make it seem as if
he were concealing nothing. This was the sort of Occlumency that, so far, Draco
had shown no particular talent in, but on the other hand, he was unlikely to
need it. Lucius had tried to learn Legilimency in his day. He had also tried to
become a Potions master. He was a resounding failure at both.

�� In this
case, Severus was telling the almost complete truth. Dumbledore had demanded
only a promise of him, not an Unbreakable Vow, but he had indeed forbidden
Severus to buy any more dangerous Potions ingredients if he wanted to maintain
his teaching position at Hogwarts. Thinking about it lent Severus�s mind a
burning, bitter flavor, like bile, and he knew that the Dark Lord would sense
that.

�� So you
made these�� The Dark Lord set aside the first three potions and tapped the
other nine vials one by one. �Out of such ingredients as lavender petals,
frogs� livers, and flobberworms?� His voice plainly betrayed his disbelief.

�� Yes, my
Lord,� Severus said, and this time it was perfect truth, without even the need
for Occlumency. �I will be pleased to give you the recipes and let you see for
yourself.�

�� A bloodless
smile stretched bloodless lips, and the Dark Lord stepped back from the table,
stroking the coils of Nagini, who had wound about his legs and gone to sleep.
�That will not be necessary, Severus. I am well pleased with your progress.
Now, describe the effect of the potions, and I will decide which one will be
best to use in our planned attacks.�

�� The hint
was coyly dangled in front of him, but Severus knew better than to ask for
further details at the moment. He was still on thin ice in the Dark Lord�s
eyes, since he had made no attempt to seek out other Death Eaters and try to
arrange to find the Dark Lord�s spirit in the way that Lucius and Pettigrew
had.

�� Instead, he
began to detail the potions, and his mind was on not the people who might die
in the attacks�of course people would die in this war, as they had in the first
one�but on Draco, who was at home right now with his father. Lucius had not
been invited to this audience.

�� Be well, Draco, and careful. And remember
that it is better to betray Potter in a small way than to die.

*

�� Draco.�

�� Father.�

�� Lucius was
walking around him with his eyes narrowed, as if he would take the opportunity
to punish Draco for anything he didn�t like. Draco kept his hands folded behind
his back, his head slightly bowed. Trying too openly to meet Lucius�s gaze
would probably be classified as �impertinence.�

�� Finally,
Lucius stopped and said, �I understand that you openly rejected Potter and his
friends during the Third Task.�

�� Yes,
Father.� Draco had taken most seriously those lessons of Snape�s that involved
keeping his voice bland and neutral. Even when he could control his expression,
his real opinion always seemed to emerge in his tone of voice. Lucius had scolded
him more than once for being too sarcastic.

�� And by
doing so, you thought you could win back my good opinion?� Lucius paused with
one hand on his cane, which was splayed out beside him. Draco was just glad
that he�d waited until they Apparated away from King�s Cross and were standing
at the gates of Malfoy Manor to display like this. It was embarrassing to think
of any of his schoolmates watching his father.

�� When did I become someone who thought my own
father embarrassing?

�� But Draco
didn�t have time to think about the answer to that question right now, because
this was the first major test. He was lying to Lucius with almost all of his
words. He was shielding his mind with Occlumency at the same time. And he was
trying desperately not to think of Harry, which would bring emotions he didn�t want to deny, but had to, bubbling to
the front of his mind.

�� I didn�t
think it would,� he muttered, and slouched, sticking his hands in his robe
pockets. That was the kind of thing Lucius would have snapped at him about
ordinarily, but now he just stood motionless, waiting. Draco continued staring
at the ground as he talked on. �But I wanted to win back your good opinion. I�m
disgusted by Potter.�

�� Simply
because he lost the Third Task?� Lucius�s voice was light. That was dangerous,
Draco knew.

�� No.� Draco
heaved a sigh that rose from the tips of his toes. He and Harry and Dumbledore
had carefully planned out a sequence of events from the time that the Dark Lord
came back to the end of the term, which meant that the actions he was talking
about now to Lucius really had happened; the motivations behind them were
different, though. �I thought about it for the whole month before that, and
gradually withdrew from him. I didn�t want to. I tried to dodge the thoughts.
But�you were right, Father.�

�� About
what?� Still light, and now his stick was sweeping back and forth, in and out
of the sight of Draco�s lowered eyes.

�� That he
isn�t worthy of us,� said Draco. �That he isn�t clever enough, magically
powerful enough, or important enough. If he was all those things, he would have
won the Third Task, easily.�

�� The Second
Task confirmed you as the person he most treasured.� Lucius was almost
whispering now. �I do not think that you would give up your status in the eyes
of the Boy-Who-Lived that easily.�

�� Draco
laughed bitterly. He was glad that he�d had Snape�s training, now. He easily
found appropriate bitterness to put in his laughter. It just didn�t come from
the source his father thought it did. �And what�s status, when he�ll probably
lose the war?� he asked bluntly, and looked up into Lucius�s face again. �I
know that the Dark Lord is more powerful, more magical, more clever. And he has
pure blood, which Potter can never match, since his mother is a Mudblood.�

�� The words
ate into his own soul and heart like acid. He would have liked to stand up and
scream that they weren�t true, that Harry had qualities like courage and loyalty
that were better than any cleverness or magical power. But he didn�t have that
luxury anymore. He wasn�t a child. He was fifteen years old. He was an adult.

�� All of
that is true, Draco.� Lucius�s face was guarded, but his lips tilted up
slightly into a pleased smile. �Still, you will forgive me if I mistrust you.�

�� Draco
nodded earnestly. �I know it�s going to be a long process to win back your
trust,� he said. �But I�ll try. I can�t be Potter�s friend again, knowing what
I know about how little he tries to
win anything.�

�� And that
was honest indignation, too. Draco was convinced that Harry could easily have
won the Third Task if he�d had his mind on what he was doing. But he�d been
quiet and brooding for the last month, accepting his decreased contact with
Draco as if he agreed with and was even pleased about it. He didn�t care any
more about winning the Triwizard Tournament.

�� Stupid, Draco thought. You should always care about winning, even
if you think you shouldn�t, really. And Harry was better at the other Tasks
than Diggory.

�� Then you
may have another chance, Draco.� Lucius stepped out of the way and swept a
mocking bow towards the Manor. �As long as you believe that you can keep trying for the goals that
are the real ones.�

�� Draco
nodded and paced up the gravel walk, his trunk floating behind him. He saw the
door of the Manor open and his mother stand in it, looking out.

�� She looked
straight at him. And Draco�s stride almost faltered.

�� Most of the
time, Narcissa paid a minimal amount of attention to him. It had been that way
ever since Draco was ten and explained to her that he didn�t want her hovering
over him all the time. And she had listened to him, the way that Greg�s and
Vince�s mums never would. During the holidays, she kept out of his way and only
occasionally asked him if he needed help with his summer homework or if he
would like some sweets.

�� But now she
looked at him, and in her eyes was determination and understanding and a sort
of cool sympathy that made Draco wonder.

�� The next moment,
she was coming forwards to kiss Lucius�s cheek and shake Draco�s hand, and he
could almost pretend that he had imagined it.

�� But it made
him feel a little better. Maybe he wasn�t completely alone against Lucius after
all.

�� Maybe his
summer would be easier than he�d thought.

�� Not as easy as Harry�s, but I can�t have
everything.

*

�� His fingers
were shaking.

�� Harry wiped
them absently on his trousers. That didn�t stop them shaking, of course, so he
folded his hand into a fist and put it on his knee. There.

�� He knew why
they were shaking. The Dursleys had announced, after Sirius�s owl had nearly
destroyed the kitchen, that Harry was on a schedule of three meals a week.

�� Harry had
protested, of course, but that just made the Dursleys sneer at him. He�d tried
to steal food, but that just made Aunt Petunia buy locks for the kitchen
cabinets and give the keys to Dudley. And the icebox had a complicated alarm
system that Harry had tried several times to foil. It didn�t seem to matter; it
always sounded, and then Uncle Vernon came along and yelled at him, or slapped
him across the back of the head in a way that made his ears ring.

�� Harry
couldn�t afford the distraction. At least his relatives weren�t trying to work
him to death this summer; maybe they were afraid that the neighbors would see
how thin he was getting. He only had to take care of the garden in the early
morning, clean the bedrooms and the drawing room, do the laundry, and sometimes
wash Uncle Vernon�s car. They didn�t trust him in the kitchen.

�� Most of the
time, he just stayed in his bedroom, reading the books that he had managed to
smuggle from his trunk before it was locked into the cupboard. And Hermione had
sent him a few more, all on Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry was determined
to memorize them before he went back to Hogwarts.

�� He didn�t
have his wand, either; Uncle Vernon had made especially sure to search that out
and lock it in the trunk. But he could make the movements with his hand and
pronounce the incantations over and over in a whisper until he was certain he
had the sounds right. (At least he didn�t have to worry about his throat
getting dry; the Dursleys let him have as much water as he wanted).

�� Hour
blurred into hour, each full of dragging minutes that then leaped and dashed
ahead when Harry encountered some spell he didn�t remember from his first
reading of the book. He sometimes thought about stopping so that he could read
about Quidditch, but in the end, he decided not to take the time to do it, the
same way that he didn�t bother trying to rob the kitchen after the first
several tries. He had things to do.

�� Maybe, he
hoped sometimes, when he was lying on his bed with his eyes shut because he
felt so faint and sick from lack of food that the words on the page were swimming,
if he could do well enough with the reading on his own, then Dumbledore would
be impressed when he went to school. And then he would let Harry train on his own,
and he wouldn�t make Harry take Occlumency with Snape.

�� A few of
the books mentioned Occlumency, because apparently, some wizards thought of
Occlumency as part of the Defense Against the Dark Arts (the Dark Art in this
case being Legilimency). Harry had read enough about it to know that he didn�t
want Snape to use Legilimency on him. And so far, he had felt nothing through
the curse scar. Sometimes�all right, every night�he had nightmares, but they
were repetitions of the graveyard scene where Voldemort came back to life, or
feverish fears about what might be happening to Draco at Lucius�s hands.

�� He got used
to hunger that pounded like a drum in his ears and passed through his blood
like fire. He became an expert in eating in a way that left him covered with
crumbs of bread or flakes of cereal, which later he would collect and eat one
by one when his stomach felt as though it were contracting like a heart. He
drank water until he thought he would piss himself to death.

�� He could
survive that. And he wasn�t complaining to anyone. He was doing his best to
understand the sacrifices that Snape and Draco were making for him, and that
more people would probably make very soon, or were already making, if Voldemort
had started killing people. He would be silent, and not whinge, and train so
that he was better at magic than anyone would think he would be when he was
still a teenager, and then he would go out and kill Voldemort.

�� And,
someday, he wouldn�t have to come back to the Dursleys. Someday, he intended to
live in a house where he could eat little meals whenever he wanted.

�� When he
didn�t have nightmares of the past or the present, he dreamed of the house, and
of food. He knew the large tables in the dining room, and the way they would be
arrayed with whole loaves of bread, gleaming red apples, softly succulent cuts
of meat, steaming pies, biscuits with bits of chocolate stuck to them, and
roasted fish.

�� Sometimes,
in the sliding territory between nightmare, dream, and waking, Draco lived in
the house with him.

*

�� Draco
stepped out of the carriage and walked into the Great Hall with his head lifted
high and his lips compressed into a thin smile. He could feel the wondering,
admiring glances of other Slytherins sliding around him. Vince and Greg had met
him on the train with approving nods, and they walked on either side of him now
like bodyguards. Draco wondered idly if that was what they really wanted to be
or if they just accepted their roles without questioning.

�� Would I have accepted my role that way, if I
never thought about it? Would I have been Lucius�s son and nothing else?

�� Thoughts
like that were usual after a summer at Malfoy Manor. Draco felt as though his
lungs were expanding and his body growing taller in the free air of Hogwarts.
He�d spent the summer flattering his father.

�� Lucius�s
greatest weakness was his vanity. It was vanity that made him tell the truth to
Harry. Otherwise, Draco thought, with a cynicism that felt as if it were truth,
it would have been easier to let Harry think that Draco was the one who
betrayed him. He should have done that if he really wanted his son away from
the Boy-Who-Lived.

�� Instead, he
told the truth, so that both Harry and the Dark Lord would know he had been
responsible for the clever plan. And he saved their friendship without knowing
it. And he gave Draco a reason to stand against him, and a weapon to use
against his lies.

�� Draco
slowly started talking more openly to Lucius about the Death Eaters� beliefs,
and spending more time with him, as if he didn�t like the fact that his father
was right but was lured back to him against his will. And Lucius had believed
it and eaten it up over and over again. By the end of the summer, though he
didn�t confess secrets to Draco, he had begun to hint at impressive attacks in
the future, once the Dark Lord had determined how many people were loyal to
him.

�� It wasn�t
valuable information, not really, but Draco was going to tell Dumbledore
anyway. And at least the lies and the lessons he�d learned from Professor Snape
had helped him survive, which was the goal for the first summer.

�� And his
mother had helped, too, Draco acknowledged, as he sat down at the Slytherin
table. He knew Harry was sitting almost across from him at the Gryffindor one,
but he didn�t dare look at him yet, just in case he betrayed himself. He would
think about Narcissa instead.

�� She had met
Draco in the library one day near the beginning of summer, where he�d gone to
sit and read a book and �accidentally� encounter Lucius, who always came into
the library an hour after dinner. She had shut the door behind her and stood
gazing at him until Draco dragged his eyes reluctantly away from his book.

�� Mother?�
he asked.

�� Lucius is
best handled with pity,� she said. �With sympathy, truly, but I know you cannot
feel that for him at the moment.�

�� Draco�s
mouth dropped open before he could help himself, but he laid down his book and
tried to make it seem as if he�d always interested in stopping at that point.
�I don�t know what you mean,� he said.

�� Oh,
Draco,� said Narcissa, and her eyes were calm and her face proud and stern as a
Greek statue�s, �no pretenses between us. You live under enough of a pretense
with your father. Of course you have to convince him that you�re on his side,
after your incautious exposure of your true self during the school year, but you
need not lie to me.� She came towards him and squeezed his shoulder, still
gazing coolly into his face. �And I am telling you that a certain sympathy with
Lucius is the best tool for manipulating him to one�s own ends. You cannot feel
that sympathy at the moment. You are angry and hurt, and you are eager to hurt
him in return. But pity him. That will do almost as well. Never forget that he
is a human being with his own subjectivity, someone who has thoughts of his
own. Forgetting that cost you during the school year. Remembering it will
help.�

�� Mother,�
Draco whispered, through an achingly dry throat. If he couldn�t fool Narcissa,
he had to worry about how well he was fooling Lucius. �How do you know this?
And�and why did you want to help me?�

�� I know,�
Narcissa said, �because you and your father have been growing apart for years.
I did think that you were trying to mend the breach at first, but you�ve been too assiduous about it, not enough of a
sullen teenager. And Lucius will not see that, because he wants so badly to
believe that he has his son back. He will ignore certain signs of
faltering�which is a good thing, because, since you have come back, you have
made many mistakes.�

�� Draco did
his best to ignore the painful flaring of a blush in his cheeks, and instead
stared hard at her. �And will you help me to repair those mistakes?�

�� My advice
is meant to do that,� Narcissa said.

�� Draco
nodded. �Forgive me.�

�� You have
not cared to know what your father or I were doing,� Narcissa said. �Perhaps now
you might take more notice.� And she turned on her heel and left the library by
the far door. Not two minutes later, the near one had opened to admit Lucius.

�� Draco liked
to think he had done a better job of handling his father since that day, and of
appreciating his mother on the occasions when they met. She was no longer just
someone who was useful only when he wanted a listening ear or a contemplative
silence to surround him. Draco realized that she might have her own rationale
for her actions, independently of Lucius, and he should respect that.

�� All right, he thought, when Dumbledore
had introduced the new Defense Against the Dark Arts, a plump woman named
Dolores Umbridge who, Draco thought, was going to be right at home among the
Hufflepuffs, you can look now. And he
turned his head and looked at Harry.

�� Harry was
picking at his food and talking quietly with his friends. Draco frowned as he stared
at him. Of course, he hadn�t expected Harry to be overjoyed to sit in the
Muggle world over the summer, probably thinking about the Dark Lord and Draco�s
own danger, but Harry looked worse than he had expected. His face was thin and
tired, so tired that Draco wondered if he�d been getting enough sleep. And he
was making too much of an effort not to look across the room and at Draco.

�� All this deception will be ruined if he
can�t concentrate on what he�s supposed to be doing, Draco thought. Some people will notice too much care as
much as they�ll notice carelessness.

�� Then Harry
did look up and at him. And Draco, even as he folded his expression into a
scowl, felt a surge of relief at the way Harry�s eyes roamed over his face and
seemed to compare it with some picture he�d had from the beginning of summer.

�� He still misses me.

�� Draco
decided that he would have to arrange a secret meeting as soon as he possibly
could. For Harry�s sake, of course.

*

�� Harry
hurried towards the first floor classroom where he was supposed to meet Draco,
shaking his head as he went.

�� It had been
a strange first two weeks back at school. Voldemort had attacked over the
summer, Harry found, but in isolated places, and mostly he seemed to want to
terrify people. He destroyed all their property but let them run away so that
they could tell stories about him to others, each more terrifying than the
last. He did kill one person�a woman
named Emmeline Vance�and fee her to his snake, a story that was told so many
times you�d think there was a crowd of people there to watch him do it.

�� The
Ministry had decided that the right way to handle Voldemort�s return was to
force everyone to be �unified.� The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,
Dolores Umbridge, preached that every day in class: be unified, trust the
Ministry, don�t object to any of their policies, only spread the �official�
stories about Voldemort. Harry had expected all of that the first time she
opened her mouth.

�� But then
she had started saying things that made him more uneasy. Things about the
magical creatures who lived in the Forbidden Forest and among wizards, in
places like Gringotts. The magical creatures couldn�t be trusted to be unified,
at least if you listened to her. It
was like them, Umbridge had said viciously the other day, talking so hard that
spit flew out of her mouth, to go to Voldemort because he promised them
�rights.� The �rights� were a delusion, of course. Magical creatures and
wizards could never actually live together, and they would find that out the
hard way.

�� Harry was
never sure, from the way she talked, if �the hard way� was going to be due to
Voldemort or the Ministry.

�� To Harry�s
joy, Sirius had been allowed to sneak back into Hogwarts through an underground
tunnel that the Marauders and their Map knew about but that no one else did,
Sirius had assured Harry. He was teaching Harry extra spells that the Marauders
had considered useful in dueling. Combined with the training that Harry had
given himself over the summer and the way that Hermione was drilling him in
private (she could never see someone studying something without deciding it was
a good idea to study it herself), that meant he was becoming a good fighter. He
wasn�t ready to take Voldemort on yet; no one was. But he would be ready, and sooner than Dumbledore thought.

�� Snape
hadn�t said anything about Occlumency lessons or other kinds of lessons,
either, and of course Harry had to glare hatefully at Draco during the day. So
he hadn�t thought much about the two Slytherins as he trained with Sirius and
his friends.

�� But then,
tonight, had come a message from Dumbledore: a silvery phoenix that manifested
just above the bed when Harry was feeling sleepy, bowed its neck, and whispered
in the Headmaster�s voice, �Young Master Malfoy would like to meet you in the
deserted Defense classroom on the first floor at midnight.�

�� And now
here he was. Harry halted and looked around. He�d cast a Disillusionment Charm
on himself before he left Gryffindor Tower, but he wasn�t really worried that
the message had been a fake. Umbridge could be scary, but he doubted she could
fake the Headmaster�s Patronus or his voice.

�� And then he
caught a glimpse of blond hair from the side of the classroom door, and smiled.
Removing his own Disillusionment Charm, he stepped forwards and said in a loud
whisper, �I think he�s in here!�

�� There was a
sound of panicked scrambling. Harry laughed and added in a normal voice, �I was
just kidding, Draco.�

�� Draco swore
at him, and then became visible himself. �You berk, you made me think that you
were a prefect,� he said.

�� Harry made
a wry face. Both Hermione and Ron were prefects this year, but Dumbledore had
said in a letter that he thought it would be too much of a burden for Harry,
and Harry had privately agreed. Anything that kept him from training was a
burden.

�� Except this.

�� Draco stood
there staring at him, so Harry reached out and hugged him. Draco took a deep
breath, as if the gesture gave him permission of some kind, and then hugged
Harry back. Of course, that only lasted a moment before he broke away. Harry
was grateful. When Draco hugged him like that, running his hands greedily up
and down his spine, it made him feel�strange.

�� But, as it
turned out, Draco wasn�t about to talk about his summer, which Harry had
assumed was the reason for stepping away.

�� Didn�t
your relatives feed you over the summer?� he demanded.

�� Uh-oh. So far, no one had suspected
anything. Harry�s baggy clothes and now his robes were good at concealing him,
and Sirius, even though he hugged Harry often, didn�t know that he hadn�t
always been this thin. But of course Draco would notice, and the longer Harry
went without answering, the more suspicious his face became.

�� And of
course Harry couldn�t tell the truth. That would be complaining, and Harry had
decided that he wouldn�t complain. He couldn�t,
not when Draco and Snape were risking their lives.

�� Of course
they did,� he said, and forced himself to stretch casually, as if he were proud
of his body and wanted to show it off. �But I did a lot of running this month.
It helped to let me avoid thinking about�things,� he added.

�� Draco�s
eyes softened at once. �Oh, I know,� he said. �I went flying more than I
usually do, too.�

�� Well? What
was it like, being with your father? Tell me about it.� Harry conjured a chair,
a spell that came a lot more easily to him now than it had before the summer,
turned it backwards, sat on it, and stared at Draco expectantly.

�� Draco
conjured a chair, too, glancing at Harry half-defiantly, as if to say that he
knew that spell and Harry had better not think he was stupid. �Surreal,� he said,
when he sat. �I mean, we both knew that I wasn�t really sincere, but I let him think I was becoming sincere, and he
heard what he wanted to hear. And my mum helped too, which I didn�t expect.� He
shook his head with a look of wonder on his face.

�� Harry propped
his chin on his hands and bit back the temptation to ask more about Narcissa
Malfoy. He knew it wasn�t wondrous to Draco, to have a mum. It was just
something that had happened when he was born and probably something he wished
hadn�t happened some of the time. �How?�

�� And Draco
began talking about his summer of lying, dodging, flattering, imitating his
father and then looking mad about imitating him, and hinting that he wanted to
learn a Death Eater�s way of life. Harry listened thirstily. It was something
different from training, so different that it felt necessary instead of a
distraction from it. And it let him think about something other than the
nightmares that were becoming more frequent. And it let him know how Draco had
survived, which was something he�d been mad to know.

�� And it kept
Draco from asking any awkward questions about how Harry�s summer had gone.

�� Finally, it
was one-o�clock, and Draco made an annoyed sound when he cast a Tempus Charm that told him so. �I want
to see you again,� he said, and looked at Harry with his eyes burning. �This
isn�t long enough.�

�� You see me
every day,� Harry couldn�t resist pointing out.

�� Like this,� said Draco, and he sounded so fierce
about it that Harry couldn�t make fun of him anymore. �I need to talk to you.
But I know it can�t be that soon, so I�ll send another message to Dumbledore in
a fortnight or so.� He paused. �Have you seen Cho Chang at all?� he added, in
what was a rotten attempt to be casual.

�� Er,� Harry
said, and blinked. �Just in the school, the same way I�ve seen you. But, mate,
I don�t really think you have a chance. She�s still dating Cedric.�

�� Oh, is
she? That�s fine, then.�

�� And Draco
was all friendly when he sent Harry away, and insisted on hugging him again,
hands still running greedily up and
down his spine. In fact, if Harry hadn�t coughed gently, Draco might have been
content to stand there with Harry in his arms for the rest of the night.

�� Harry did
pause with his hand on the door before he left, to ask softly, �Are you all
right?�

�� For the
moment,� Draco said, and stared at him with shining eyes.

�� Harry still
thought there was something wrong with him, but he�d asked the most direct
question he could think of, and so in the end he nodded and slipped out of the
classroom. He hoped he would be able to resist counting the hours until he met
Draco again.

*

�� Severus
paced his office, now and then stopping to stare at the door.

�� The boy was
late.

�� But then,
had he really expected anything else?

�� Severus
knew Dumbledore had summoned the Potter brat to his office that afternoon and
told him that he would begin Occlumency lessons with Severus tonight. He knew
the boy had protested that he didn�t need the lessons, because he hadn�t felt
the Dark Lord attempting to reach him through the curse scar.

�� And how would he know? Severus tapped
his wand against his palm and paced faster and faster, until his robes traveled
behind him with a continuous swishing sound. Did it once occur to him that the Dark Lord can conceal his Legilimency
from the likes of such a child?

�� No. Of course not.

�� And does the boy appreciate the sacrifices I
have made over the summer? Severus traced the Dark Mark through his robe
for a moment. He could feel it all the time now, like an ache in a once-broken
limb, though it did not flare with pain except when the Dark Lord summoned him.
No. Does he appreciate that I must give
up some free time in which I could be brewing new potions, or devising new lies
that would enable me into get into a better position in the Death Eaters�
ranks, or tutoring Draco? No.

�� Severus could
feel his anger increasing with his pace. It seemed the fragile trust he had
thought Potter was acquiring in him last year had disintegrated, and it was all
the brat�s fault. Not once did he
make a motion to apologize or put himself in a vulnerable position that would
show he trusted Severus. No, he came in guarded and crouching, exactly as if
Severus were the Death Eater he pretended to be. The boy would probably trust
Lucius Malfoy before he would trust the �greasy git.�

�� Someone knocked
on the door.

�� Severus
clenched his hands into fists and tried to control his breathing. A full five minutes late. As much as he
wanted to show his displeasure with the boy�s impertinence, however, he knew
that Potter would probably sense what it was, and then he would report Severus in
a whiny tone to Dumbledore, and Severus was not ready for such a thing.

�� Enter,� he
said. His voice could have coasted the walls with ice.

�� Potter did.
He already had his wand out, signifying that perhaps he had learned something
after all in those ridiculous lessons with Black. But his chin was up and his
eyes focused and defiant. He shut the door behind him and stood shifting from
foot to foot as if he had swallowed a Laxative Potion.

�� Sir,� he
said after a moment in which Severus stared at him and the room filled with a
brewing, hostile silence. �I don�t think I need these lessons. If there is a
link between me and Voldemort through the curse scar, I can�t feel it. Maybe he
doesn�t know it�s there. Maybe he doesn�t want to use it.��

�� And you
will risk the future of the wizarding world on a maybe?� Severus breathed. �I did not know you could sink in my
estimation, Potter, but you have managed it.�

�� The
imbecile made an aborted motion that might have been a flinch, or might have
been a raising of his arms to defend himself. In the end, however, he assumed a
dueling position and waited.

�� Severus
waited, too, to see if he could inspire the boy to break the silence, but
nothing happened. He nodded grudgingly and said, �Occlumency is the process of clearing
the mind of thoughts and emotions, so that no enemy can detect what you are
thinking. Clear your mind.�

�� A frown
appeared between Potter�s brows and he started to ask a question, but Severus
cut him off impatiently. The instructions were clear enough, and Draco had
mastered them the first time. Superior as Draco was to Potter in everything�talent,
blood, cleverness�still, he was not so different that this ought to be a
challenge for Potter. �Do as I say. Legilimens!�

�� And, of
course, he burst into Potter�s mind past shields that felt as thin as paper. Severus
rolled his eyes as he reached a memory of the boy watching enviously as a fat
blond boy, probably his cousin�he had Petunia�s look about the eyes and nose�swallowed
a plate of eggs. The child carried his petty insecurities with him even into ordinary
memories. Does he have any that are not
about what he wants and the people who
frustrate him from getting it? Doubtless he had a fine breakfast and simply
wanted a second helping, which his aunt responsibly denied to him.

�� Pathetic,
Potter,� he said, pulling back and glaring at the boy, who had his head bowed
and his breath coming fast, as if the intrusion had hurt. Severus knew well
that the headaches from the unexpected infliction of Legilimency were nothing compared
to what the boy would suffer if the Dark Lord tried to possess him. �You must
do better than this. Clear your mind.�

�� I don�t
know how to do that!� Potter glared up at him with flashing green eyes, and
Severus found himself unexpectedly relaxing. Yes, he had missed the
impertinence that the boy showed him, God knew why. �You tell me that, but you
don�t tell me how, and you don�t tell
me why it works��

�� I did tell
you why it works,� Severus snapped, his patience vanishing again. The boy�s arrogance has increased from
spending time with Black. A roaring tide of jealousy soured him, and his
voice was brittle, and he knew it, and he hated it, when he said, �Without
thoughts in your mind, your enemy cannot reach them.�

�� But I can�t
just go around not thinking all day
long��

�� The
opportunity for an insult was so fine that Severus could not pass it up. �Why
not? You seem to manage quite well on an everyday basis.�

�� The boy
only glared at him, and Severus attacked again, because the boy would need to understand
that the battle would not courteously pause to wait for him whilst he sorted
himself out. �Legilimens!�

�� This time,
it was a memory of eating a bit of apple, followed by a bowl of porridge.
Severus pulled out with an oath and a disgusted expression. �Do all your
memories revolve around food, Potter?� he taunted. The boy has to learn, has to understand, that he will never survive if
he clings to the sort of nonsense that Black has stuffed his head full of. �I
believe Draco thinks about other things on occasion.�

�� Yes,�
Potter said; this time, his tone was spiteful. �He thinks about me. And that hurts you, doesn�t it,
Snape?�

�� Severus
hurled the full force of his skill behind the blow this time, something he
would not have done had the brat not angered him. But the boy was asking for
it, practically jumping up and down and chanting that only an assault like a
thunderstorm would work on him. He deserved any pain he got from this.

�� Severus
tore through what felt like a desperate, cloudy attempt to shield a central
core of Potter�s mind, and this time summoned a series of memories all at once,
to show that he could. He could make his taunting comments resound inside
Potter�s mind, if he tried hard enough. Let
the boy see someone standing back and giving him a different perspective on his
life. Perhaps it will encourage him to keep that life instead of risking it so
madly!

�� And thus he
saw the memories of that summer.

�� The boy
desperately tore at a bowl of cereal and a plate of toast, only to have someone
knock on the door. �You know you should have been done with that already,� said
Petunia�s nasal voice. �You only ate last Thursday; what�s wrong with you?�

�� Potter
shook with the exhaustion and deadly, choking weight that Severus knew was
typical of starvation, but still he picked up a Defense Against the Dark Arts
book and began to study again.

�� Potter
stood in front of a mirror, clad in trousers but no shirt, and looked with
resignation at his ribs, which were clearly defined against his skin, and his
stomach, which protruded slightly. Then he shook his head and reached for the
shirt, as if ignoring the evidence of hunger would make it go away.

�� That�s it!� yelled a purple-faced man into
Potter�s face. Potter leaned backwards, his hands gripping a table, his eyes
downcast. Around him was a scattering of broken bowls and plates and cups. �That
ruddy owl wasted too much food! And
so does that other ruddy owl upstairs! You aren�t getting more than three meals
a week for the rest of the summer, boy. Maybe that will teach you to respect the consequences and do as you�re
told!�

�� Severus had
heard enough.

�� He broke
free of Potter�s mind and opened his eyes to stare at the brat. Potter clutched
the sides of his head, his eyes blinking as if the light hurt them. Severus clamped
his lips together. He knew the signs of a migraine. He had gone too far.

�� Still, it
was better for him to have learned what he had. He was appalled�partially at
his own blindness. When he looked at Potter, really looked at him and not at the image of Gryffindorish stupidity in
his mind, he could see the unnatural thinness of his limbs and the way his
robes puddled around him. He was not a normal fifteen-year-old boy, and with
Hogwarts�s meals, he certainly should have been. Probably he was still not
recovered from the tortures of his summer.

�� Those
memories, combined with the other memories of a much younger but still hungry
Potter, spoke to a pattern of on-going abuse. And Potter had never said
anything, never let slip more than a casual bitter comment which suggested that
he blamed the Muggles for what had happened to him. Severus had been on the
road of putting things together, but he had turned away from it when the Dark
Lord rose again.

�� No, even before that, he thought,
remembering last year. He had become so frustrated with Potter�s slow rate of
learning Potions that he had chosen to disregard everything the boy had learned�and what Severus had learned
about him in return.

�� Pot�Harry,�
he said gently. He would need to change things, and to signal that, he would do
something he had never done before and call the boy by his first name.

�� Fuck you,
Professor.�

�� Potter�s
voice was flat and unemotional. His hands clamped to his head, he turned and
wandered in the general direction of the door.

�� I am
sorry,� said Severus, speaking the apology before he thought about it, to get
it out of the way. �But now that I know about this, we can go to Dumbledore. He
will ensure��

�� Potter
laughed loudly, and then winced, as if the sound echoing around his head was
not pleasant. Of course it wasn�t, Severus thought, glad that he, at least, had
kept his voice low and gentle. �No, he won�t,� he said. �He told me that I had
to go there because it has blood wards, and he didn�t dare take on the duty of protecting
me because of something that happened to someone else he was protecting. Sirius
can�t do it because he�s a fugitive, and Remus can�t do it because he�s a
werewolf. So there�s nothing that can change.� Something like pride entered his
voice. �Besides, I wasn�t complaining. You and Draco are doing your part for
the war, and I can do mine.�

�� Suffering
like this does nothing to help the war,� Severus said, more appalled than
before. I had no idea he had interpreted
Dumbledore�s instructions to get ready to fight the Dark Lord in such a way. �If
anything, it makes you more unfit for the war, by potentially injuring you.
Starvation has permanent effects on the human body and mind, Harry.�

�� Oh, stop
talking as if you care,� Potter said, and squinted at Severus over his shoulder
with one watery eye. �I know you don�t.
You�re Draco�s teacher, not mine. Which is fine. But this is why these lessons
won�t work. I�ve read a bit about Occlumency, you see. You need me to trust you
to really get into my mind and show me how to build up the shields. And I don�t.
I never will. Because you hate me. So just tell Dumbledore that they won�t work
and you can stop teaching me and we�ll both be happy, all right?� He fumbled
the door open and stepped into the corridor.

�� Severus
followed him, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. �Something still must
be done to change your home situation,� he said.

�� Why? I�m
away from the Dursleys for another ten months, and this time I�ll take food
with me when I go there.� Harry gave him an incurious glance and turned away.

�� His
reaction kept Severus pinned in place, watching the boy out of sight. It was
only long minutes later that he understood.

�� Abuse has produced indifference and distrust
in him, to the point that he expects nothing from any adult. He is uninterested
in efforts to better his situation because he believes they will always be
dropped or not work.

And
I must do something about that.

�� Despite my lack of any plans. Despite the
fact that the boy will only mistrust me even more if I breathe a word of this
to anyone.

�� I must do something.

�� Lily, I was blind, inexcusably so. But I
will do something to help him. I promise.

*

�� callistianstar:
Yes, Lucius will hurt Draco if he can, but as long as Draco is submissive and
plays the part of sullen teenager impressed by his father despite himself, then
Lucius can be fooled. And he really has no reason to hurt someone he thinks is
a potential convert. He knows that will only drive Draco further away from him.

�� And, well,
Harry and Draco are trying to preserve that innocence, but it isn�t going to
last much longer.

�� Sneakyfox:
Oh, yes, very true! Lucius is aware of that. But neither he nor Draco are yet
aware of what Draco�s feeling towards Harry mean.

�� MewMew2: No
problem. I�m glad you�re still enjoying the story.

�� rafiq: Yes,
eventually, though the Seamus question is not answered until sixth year.

�� tyree:
Thank you! However, your e-mail address seems to be hidden, or I�d be glad to
put you on the list.

�� Mangacat: I
think there are ways in which Harry�s set of mind could be productive, but
unfortunately, he�s too busy depriving himself of things he needs as well as
training in skills he needs.

�� SP777:
Basically, I got a request for a story like this from a bidder in the
livelongnmarry auction. I doubt I would have done a story of this kind on my
own, at least unless I got possessed of a burning idea and it was a few years
down the road, when I�d already done lots of other ideas I wanted to do. I
still think I portray teenagers too old.

�� Thank you
for reviewing. And for asking how I�m doing! I�m very, very busy, but fine
physically and mentally.

��

��
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Inter Vivos