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

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Chapter Fourteen�Steps
on the Path

�� Draco had
stood outside Aran�s door for too long. He was beginning to think that he
should leave if he was so frightened.

�� And what�s to be frightened of? he thought.
Aran�s intense, but that�s a good quality
in a teacher. He cares about what we learn.

�� He stood
there some moments more until the truth occurred to him. He wanted a teacher
who would value him for himself, who
would seek him out instead of Draco having to do the work, who would admire and
condole and admit that it was the fault of other people for not noticing Draco,
rather than Draco�s fault for not standing out enough. Dearborn had done
something like that. Draco missed him still.

�� But Dearborn is dead, and my father is free,
and I have to think of my future, instead of what I wish would happen, Draco
decided, and knocked on the door.

�� It opened
almost at once. The Spell Lexicon teacher squinted at him. He had a golden ring
and a rag in his hands; it looked as if he�d been polishing the ring. Draco
blinked despite his determination to appear adult and unconcerned with Aran�s
inner thoughts. It seemed very mundane for someone of Aran�s talents to spend
his time doing that.

�� Sir?�
Draco asked.

�� Yes,
Malfoy, what is it?� Aran started rubbing the ring again without taking his
eyes off Draco. Draco felt a twinge from the insult, but perhaps it wasn�t
meant to be an insult. Perhaps Aran simply wanted to accomplish two tasks at
once. Draco had to admit that he had never sensed any hostility from Aran
towards him, the way he probably would have if Aran hated Death Eaters.

�� I
wondered,� Draco said, and the words froze in his throat so that he had to melt
them with the fire of his courage before he could speak again, �if you would
consent to mentor me.�

�� Aran jerked
his head up and stared. Draco clenched his hands together and met the stare.
Surprise was not a refusal.

�� Well,�
Aran said at last. �That�s an unexpected request.� He considered for a moment,
then stepped aside. �Come in.�

�� Draco
followed Aran into a spare, neat office, almost pathologically neat. The books
stood upright on the shelves with space before and behind them, and Draco was
sure he would find them all in alphabetical order by author if he looked at
them. The carpet on the floor was a rich red with dark swirls, and in the
center of that stood an ebony desk with a hard wooden chair behind it. There
was no other place to sit, but Aran casually Transfigured a stack of blank
parchment into a stool and set it before his desk. He took the chair, sitting
in a way that told Draco he must have received scoldings about posture when he
was a child. He never took his eyes from Draco, and he never stopped polishing
the ring.

�� Draco
cleared his throat, rested his arms on his knees, and tried not to mind the
fact that his head was now considerably below Aran�s. �I decided on you because
I think we would get along well, sir,� he said. �I want to learn as many spells
as you can teach me, and I�m always looking to expand my repertoire. And I want
the same thing you do.�

�� Which is?�
Aran cocked his head to the side. He appeared to have finally finished
polishing the ring to his satisfaction, and put it in a drawer of the desk,
which he locked. Draco wondered what kind of Dark artifact it was. He couldn�t
envision Aran being interested in it unless it was Dark, or at least powerfully
enchanted.

�� To see
more of the students learn more spells,� Draco said. �I think it�s disgraceful
that some of the Auror trainees barely learn more than they do in Hogwarts, and
they�re always relying on elementary charms and defensive magic to get out of
trouble.� He was relaxing now. Aran continued to watch him as if he were
fascinating, and any result that wasn�t being yelled at to leave was a good one
for Draco. �As your trainee, I could help the others much more than I could if
I were studying on my own.�

�� Aran
nodded, a small motion, like a bird dipping its beak to reach a crumb. �That is
the speech you planned to give me,� he said. �Now I want to know your real
reasons.�

�� Draco
blinked. �Sir?�

�� Aran rested
his hands on the desk as he leaned forwards, half-rising from the chair. Draco
stared. There were muscles bulging and flexing along Aran�s arms that he hadn�t
realized were there. Was the man good in unarmed combat as well as with spells?
Probably, Draco thought. He didn�t think Aran would disdain any means of
beating an enemy. �I�ve watched you, Malfoy. You�re skilled, yes. But if you
give a fuck for anyone besides that partner of yours, I haven�t seen evidence
of it.�

�� Draco
flushed. �I do want to see the others do better,� he said. �It�s physically painful
to watch them struggle with spells they should be able to cast easily.�

�� There�s
that,� said Aran, still looking unmoved. �But is it important enough to you to
give up the time and effort that I would demand from you? I doubt it. So tell
me why you sought me out, instead of someone like Lowell or Weston, who I think
would be more to your taste. Not to mention that they would be able to teach
you how to use compatible magic.�

�� I want to
be powerful,� Draco said. If he can be
that blunt to me, blunt to the point of offensiveness, so can I. �I think
that you can teach me to become so.�

�� Aran sat
back down in his seat and smiled. �That�s better, lad,� he said. �But there�s
another condition to discuss.�

�� Draco
inclined his head and sat waiting. That sounded like half an acceptance,
anyway.

�� I know
that you have compatible magic,� Aran said, looking at Draco with eyes that
glinted like his ring. �And I know that partners who have magic like that never
work well alone. You teach one, and then you have to go and teach the other because
he didn�t learn it and he needs to. I
might as well instruct both of you at the same time, don�t you think? And since
you�re so obliging as to show that you care about him, I think we�d better have
your partner in here as well. I can mentor him so that I won�t have to spend a
second hour on his education for each spell, and you can have his presence so
that you aren�t as distracted as you�d probably be without him.�

�� Draco didn�t
appreciate the characterization of himself as easily distracted, but he knew
that Aran wouldn�t care if he made the objection. In fact, he might lose
everything that he�d gained so far. So he swallowed, nodded, and said, �I don�t
know if Harry will agree, though.�

�� Aran
shrugged. �Do you know that until you ask? Ask him first, and then bring any
noise of a refusal to me.�

�� Draco
nodded. Aran glanced from him to the door, and Draco stood up and left at the
indication of dismissal, though he wondered privately if he could work with
Aran after all. The man was considerably more rude and abrupt than Draco had
realized from his performance in class.

�� But he had
power, and he knew power, and he had offered to teach both Draco and Harry that
power. Draco was certain that Harry would want to know the spells so that they could
work together, if not because he cared about being magically strong. This was
the best offer they would get.

*

�� I don�t
know.� Harry frowned at Draco. The news that Aran wanted to mentor them both
was startling, and somewhat unwelcome. How
am I going to practice my necromancy if I have to go to training sessions with
him all the time? It�s already hard enough with my ordinary classwork and the
compatible magic lessons with Lowell and Weston. �How much work do you
think we�ll have to do?�

�� Draco,
lying beside him on the bed, snorted and rested his head on Harry�s shoulder. �That
would be the first thing you think
of,� he said. �Instead of how much we can get out of this, or whether it will
make us better fighters, or even better Aurors. How much work you�ll have to
put in.�

�� Oi!� Harry
pushed at his shoulder. �I worked hard during the war, I�ll have you know. I
don�t see that it�s so unreasonable to want relaxation after that.�

�� Draco
laughed outright and rolled to the side so that he was lying on the pillow
instead of on Harry. �If you wanted that,
you never would have chosen a career as an Auror,� he said. �You�d be sitting
on your arse in some rich manor house, drinking and thinking of ways to spend
your money.�

�� And I
would have gone mad in three days like that,� Harry finished with a sigh. Yes, I need something to do. I need people
to rescue, a world to save. But there doesn�t seem to be much I can do about
Nihil�which is another reason that I want to bring the dead back. �Yes, all
right. But you haven�t answered my question.�

�� I have no
idea,� Draco said easily. �Aran�s more demanding than I thought he was. But,
Harry, we�ll get advanced instruction.� He smiled at Harry. �That ought to make
our other classes easier.�

�� Harry eyed
him skeptically. �Is he an expert in Stealth and Tracking? Concealment and
Disguise?�

�� Our
classes for next year, if not for this one.� Draco was unrepentant, and that
told Harry more about how proud he was of himself for securing Aran�s tutelage
than any mere words could. �Come on, Harry! Will you do it?�

�� Harry
traced a curve over Draco�s hip that a line of sweat had already marked, and
thought about it. He had been shaken and ashamed�afterwards�by the honesty that
Draco had used with him the other day. Here was Draco offering up all his
secrets, and Harry at the same time holding back the truth about his
necromancy.

�� But then he
remembered again what would happen if Draco learned about it, and shuddered. He would react so badly. Nothing he could say
would drive me away from him like the truth would drive him away from me.

�� This was something
he could do to make up for it, maybe. Harry smiled at Draco. �If you really
want to. But if it�s too much work, then I�ll have to quit, all right? I need
to make sure that I can actually pass my classes.�

�� Draco kissed
him instead of answering, and Harry let himself be borne back into the pillows,
telling his guilt to shut up.

*

�� Draco
received the letter that morning at breakfast.

�� The owl
that brought it was ordinary, an undistinguished post-owl, and Draco opened it
almost without thought. His first idea was that one of his friends from
Hogwarts was writing to them. Some of them were still incredulous that he had
chosen an Auror career and regularly wrote to inquire about what he was doing
and if he�d come to his senses yet.

�� Then he saw
his mother�s handwriting, and instinctively folded over the top of the paper so
that no one could see it.

�� The sudden
movement caught Weasley�s eye, but he only shook his head as though he expected
Slytherin secrets and went back to eating. Harry leaned forwards, eyes
concerned and warm. �Are you all right?�

�� I need to
leave,� Draco said, and shoved the tray back, knowing that Harry would take
care of it. He almost ran out of the eating area, but gritted his teeth and
walked, in the end. He didn�t want to draw more attention to himself than necessary.

�� He halted
in the first empty corridor that he came to and unfolded the top of the letter.
His heartbeat shook his body, and he felt as if he would start losing bits of himself
at any moment: teeth, stands of hair, fingernails, anything that could fall off
would.

�� His mother�s
handwriting had nothing strained about it; the letters weren�t blotted, or
larger than usual, or marching in anything but a straight line across the page.
Draco still stared intently at it for a long moment before he could persuade himself of that, and even then
he had to take more than one glance before he decided that he should read it.

�� Draco:

�� I am writing this letter while Lucius sleeps
in the bed that has been ours for longer than you have been alive. His face has
lines that were never there before he went to Azkaban. He says that the
glamour-creature he left behind is sure to die soon, and that you will receive
notice from the Ministry. Pretend to grieve. It will be safer for all of us.

�� Draco
tapped his fingers against the paper and wished his mother was here, in front
of him, so he could say what he thought of that. If there was one thing that
was different in this paragraph from the rest of her letters, it was the way it
rambled, turning in several different directions and including odd
instructions, instead of saving them for the end. He continued.

�� I know that you feel yourself caught between
the open future of your own life and the pressure of family tradition. But I
would caution you to remember that no one can make a present and future who
forgets the past.

�� Draco
snorted bitterly. �You�ve always said that,� he whispered. �But this is the
first time that it feels like it has resonance, and of course that resonance is
supposed to matter more than what I want.�

�� You should remember duty. You should
remember that your father does care for you, and other than restricting your
access to the Malfoy vaults, he�s done nothing that would hurt you. It does not
seem to have injured you much. I suppose that Harry is letting you live on his
money?

�� Draco
frowned and shifted his shoulders. On the one hand, that last question seemed
painfully contemptuous, but on the other, his mother had called Harry by his
first name. She was sending confusing, mixed signals.

�� Come home when you can, Draco. You need to
speak to your father, and we need to find a way forward for the family,
together. How can we do that when our heir is so far from us and cannot add his
voice to the conversation?

�� Yes, of
course,� Draco muttered. �The way for me to add my voice to the conversation is
to be spelled into marrying someone.�

�� I have persuaded Lucius that is it not in
his best interests to hurt you further. But we still require your presence. We
will look for you at the Christmas holidays, if not sooner.

�� Your loving mother,

�� Narcissa Malfoy.

�� Draco shook
his head. The letter was practically useless, containing the advice his father
would have given.

�� Well, at least I reckon I know which side
she�s on now.

�� Draco
started to crumple up the letter and throw it away, but then he saw a slight,
shimmering stain on her name. He frowned and tilted the paper to the light, and
the stain grew, spreading out until it looked as though there was something
inside the paper itself.

�� Draco
caught his breath, remembering some of the notes that his mother had written to
him during that terrible year when the Dark Lord had taken over Malfoy Manor
and any communication between them was suspect.

�� I�m a fool.

�� He held his
wand up to the paper and whispered a Heating Charm. As the warmth spread over
the paper, the stain turned from transparent to pale brown. Draco had to squint,
but he could read the message Narcissa had written behind the original letter
and in the blank lines between its words.

�� This is the message that your father will never
see; I wrote the other letter to satisfy him while sounding as if I hadn�t
quite made up my mind yet. He is clever enough not to believe that I would fall
in behind him so quickly.

�� Draco, my darling son, do whatever you must
to be safe and happy. I love Lucius, but the trick he has played has endangered
us all. And I now feel as if I do not know him. I do not know what other magic he
may have studied and kept secret from us, if he is as powerful in illusions as
he claims he is.

�� I do know what my tasks are: to keep you
safe, as I did during the war, and to ensure that someone who I fear means you
harm does not do it. I will conduct a private war against Lucius, and I fully
expect to have more success than I did against the Dark Lord. He still has the
heart of the man I love, and part of the mind, though he thinks strange
thoughts and laughs at strange things. The first dose has been administered,
and its remnant created these lines.

�� Love, Narcissa.

�� Draco
shivered and closed his eyes. He did know what his mother�s last words meant,
as strange as they would have seemed to anyone else. Narcissa made the ink that
hid the words from the crushed heart of a Galumphus Toad. For most of the time
Draco had known her to use it, she had only used the inner blood of the heart
and thrown out the rest of it.

�� But
shavings from such a heart could create a potion that would, over time, slowly
alter someone�s perceptions of the world, while leaving them firmly convinced
that they were making all their own decisions.

�� If Father finds out Mother is using that�

�� Draco shook
his head in the next moment. Narcissa could take care of herself. His concern
for her might be overwhelming, but she would not thank him for paying so much
attention to her that he forgot to keep himself safe.

�� He would
watch out for Lucius�s next move, and he would watch for letters from his
mother, and if he could do something�such
as sending back letters that made vague agreeing noises to keep Lucius from
getting too suspicious�then he would. Otherwise, he would play his side of the
game and let Narcissa play hers.

�� This is another reason to become as powerful
as I can, Draco thought as he strode back to their rooms. He needed a short
time to recover himself before he went to class. It will mean that I can protect myself from my father if the need
arises. God knows what other magic he�s learned, as Mother pointed out.

*

�� Harry
rapped his fingers against the page of the necromancy book in agitation. The
rituals that the book advised him to perform next were all complicated, and all
of them required some sort of props�not just salt and the black candles, which
Harry had been prepared to accept, but knives of silver or crystal, shallow pewter
dishes on which to burn meat, sacrifices of living animals. How was he supposed
to get all that?

�� Draco
opened the door, and Harry hastily tucked the necromancy book under the pile of
other books that he needed for his classes. The skin on his back still crawled
as he turned around to smile at Draco. He hated having the book out in the open
where Draco could see it, and if he�d been wise, he would have hidden it when
he knew Draco was close to coming back from his study session in the library. But
he was growing frantic to perform another ritual, so he could at least tell the
dead he hadn�t forgotten about them, and he kept looking at the words just in
case he�d missed the description of a small and simple one.

�� I�ve
thought of something,� Draco said. His voice rang like a bell, and he dropped
to a crouch in front of Harry and laid his hands on Harry�s knees. His eyes
were so bright that Harry wondered with irrational fear if they could see better
than usual, and therefore if he would spot his book. But he tried to smile
back, because that would distract Draco better.

�� What�s
that?� Harry reached out and ran his fingers through Draco�s hair. It felt less
soft than usual. Was that perception real, he wondered, or just because he was
thinking of the wispy, cold softness of the dead?

�� Professor
Snape left his library to me,� Draco said. �We haven�t sought it out yet. I
understand why. We had better things to do, and then Nihil attacked and
Dearborn died and�I didn�t have much time to think about it.� His breath caught,
and he closed his eyes. Harry caressed his hair and wondered what he would say
if Harry told him that he might be able to see Dearborn again. �But I think we
should,� Draco continued in a stronger voice. �There could be books there that
might tell us more about what the Death Eaters did, the things that Nihil
adopted or changed from their research. There might even be information about
Nihil himself, though under another name. And there might be books that would
help us if my father ever proved to be a threat.�

�� Harry
nodded. Draco had told him about Lucius and what Narcissa was doing against
him. Harry had to admire her bravery, especially when he wondered if Lucius
knew necromancy. �When did you want to go and fetch the books?�

�� Draco
blinked at him, as if he had thought Harry would make more opposition, but
said, �What about tomorrow afternoon? Aran wants to see us in the morning for
our first training session.�

�� Harry dug
his fingers into the arms of the chair, but nodded again. He would have wanted
that time to look through the necromancy bank, except that he already thought
he wouldn�t find anything no matter how long he stared.

�� That�s another good thing about getting
Snape�s library. Maybe there�ll be books on necromancy among them.

�� Good.� Draco
leaped to his feet and looked at Harry for a minute. �There�s so much pressure
on me, from all sides,� he confessed in a low voice. �But you�re helping me to
bear it.�

�� Harry
smiled at him, but shut his eyes when Draco turned his back. He wasn�t one-half
as supportive as he should have been, if Draco had only known that.

�� Draco went
into the bathroom, and there was a small, sharp note immediately, like a
plucked string. Harry looked around, but saw nothing unusual until he looked
down and realized that there was a note on his leg.

�� It was
marked on the outside with a wheel, tangled with spikes of deadly nightshade.

�� Harry unfolded
it, wondering numbly how it could have just appeared
there, given all the wards in the Ministry. The note held only three lines
in a small, tight hand. It could have been Portillo Lopez�s writing, but then
again, it might not be.

�� You are in the first stage, greed and
hunger. The second stage, obsession, is coming on. After that is the
bloodthirst, and then worse. Accept help, before it is too late. You will not
be allowed to reach the fourth.

�� The note
dissipated into motes of light as Draco came back out of the bathroom and smiled
at him. �Did I ever tell you how lucky I am to have you?�

�� His
conscience aching like a wound, Harry stood up and came over to hug him. �I
love you,� he mumbled, pressing his face to Draco�s neck and breathing in his
hot scent as if that would mean he could forget about the dead.

�� It didn�t
work. The moment he closed his eyes, their
yearning eyes were there.

*

�� SP777:
Well, they�ll still need to thresh it out a bit more, but it�s mostly solved.
Of course, there�s the problem of Harry�s necromancy to deal with�

�� anciie: You�re
right on the money. As long as Draco has this list of ongoing problems, though,
he won�t pay as much attention to Harry�s problems as he should.

�� Harry should trust Draco as much; he knows
that. But the necromancy has caught him now.

�� purple-er:
Thank you! I have mentioned Harry looking into necromancy in a few other
stories, but this is the first one where it�s been a major plot point.

�� polka dot: Not
secret from Portillo Lopez�s group.

�� Dragons
Breath: Both. Harry let him make those assumptions, of course.
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Ceremonies of Strife