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I Give You a Wondrous Mirror	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 17806 -:- 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.

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Chapter
Fifteen�Talking

�� I suppose
you think I don�t think much of you, Draco. Well, that�s not true. My feelings
didn�t have much of a chance to soften or change in the last ten years, what
with our staying so far apart, but they have
changed since I knew you in Hogwarts.�

�� It didn�t
make much sense, Draco thought, that his nightmare spoke in the voice of Harry
Potter. He shifted slightly away from the noise; it was something that his
enemies must have created with a spell to torment him, after all. And then he
felt a pair of warm hands against his back.

�� And sense
flooded into his head again, so suddenly he could have gasped. Of course. He was locked in a box with
Harry Potter, and Harry was speaking to him so that he could at least have
sound to focus on, and now he had touch, as well. Where had he been during the last few moments, that
he could have forgotten so completely?

�� Locked away in your own head, in the terrors
that Bellatrix implanted, his mind answered. And you�ll need to ensure that it doesn�t happen again, any way you
can.

�� Since I�ve
known you at Hogwarts,� Harry was saying, his voice soft and insistent and
chasing Draco�s attention back into the present, �I�ve come to see you that can be brave and generous and
imaginative and all the traits that I once thought applied only to Gryffindors.
You�re just select about the people you choose to show those traits to.� There
was a brief pause, as if Harry was considering what to say next or needed to
rest his voice. Draco pressed into the hands behind him, both to offer
encouragement and to show that he was listening. Harry spoke again at last,
voice oddly shy. �Thank you for allowing me to be one of those people who can
see you like this.�

�� And Draco
understood, then, what Harry was offering. Not just sound, to keep him sane in
a box where most of his senses were gone. Not just touch, though that was a
secondary anchor next to his voice. Not even just praise of him, though Draco
would gladly drink that in and use it to heal some of the old wounds he still
had remaining.

�� He was
offering himself. And Draco was not
fool enough to reject that gift.

�� Go on,� he
whispered.

�� Harry
responded at once, his words as glad and strong as the drawing of a sword. �I
think that you�re too hard on yourself, you know. You speak as if you were
permanently broken by what you�ve been through�and it�s true that I don�t know
all of those things, much as I would like to��

�� He would? Draco had seen no sign, so
far, that Harry wanted to pour his heart out to him or listen to his poured out
in return.

�� But I
think you still do better day-to-day than you give yourself credit for. So
you�re not the Minister of Magic; there are better jobs that you can be doing
anyway.� Harry�s voice deepened and gained a teasing tone. �And I think
Kingsley Shacklebolt would rather not share.�

�� Draco found
himself smiling, which struck to the core of his being like a shock, at the
image of walking into Shacklebolt�s office and declaring that he liked the
d�cor and would be sharing the desk from now on.

�� You�re the
father of a brilliant son,� Harry murmured, and his right hand moved a bit up
and down Draco�s spine, as though he had felt him shiver and were trying to
soothe it. Draco did shake, but it wasn�t with fear, not when he could feel
each separate finger pressing his skin through the cloth. �Scorpius couldn�t
have been raised by someone as broken as you seem to think you are.�

�� It was
house-elves who raised him��

�� It was you.� Harry shook his head; Draco knew
that because he could feel the wild, crisp hair brushing against his cheeks and
chin. �I knew it the day I came to test you with the Veritaserum and saw you
holding him. You care so much for
him, Draco. It�s in your eyes, in your hands, in your whole body when you hold
him.�

�� Draco
decided that he couldn�t quite let that pass. �So you notice my body, do you,
Harry?� he murmured.

�� And Harry,
with courage Draco wouldn�t have had (he could admit that without shame), said,
�Yes, I do.�

�� No holding back. Draco gave another
violent shiver. No holding back
anything.

�� He wanted
the gift, but he was not going to take advantage of Harry or make him feel
sordid for giving it. He shifted the position of his hands, so that they
weren�t just lying uselessly between them anymore, but rising to Harry�s
shoulders to embrace him back. His elbows bumped the wood, and for a moment
skittering horror tried to take his mind away�

�� I�m here,
Draco.�

�� Harry spoke
calmly and authoritatively, and Draco, gasping as he burst back into his own
body, thought this must be the voice he used to calm down a racing pure-blood
mob, the same one he used to let his children know they had gone too far.
�Listen to my voice,� Harry said, so completely steady that Draco was nearly
convinced he was not made of living flesh until Harry shifted closer to him,
accepting the hold of his hands and tilting his head so that his face rested
against Draco�s. �Feel me. Yes, that�s right.�

�� Draco clung
desperately for long moments, while Harry went on whispering, nearly into his
ear this time.

�� You�re not broken and you�re not useless. I know you resent your
mother�s attempts to �meddle in your peace,� but she does it because she can
see that you�re not at peace. You
should listen to her. You should listen to me. I think there are things you
could do outside Malfoy Manor, if you
wanted to. But you should make the choice, rather than creeping listlessly
about your house like a butterfly with broken wings.�

�� Please
tell me I was not quite that pathetic,� Draco murmured, and felt Harry shiver
as Draco�s breath raked along his skin. Draco paused, and breathed again. Harry
gasped softly, the sound not one of fear but one of wonder.

�� Harry?�
Draco prompted. �Was I that pathetic?�

�� No,� Harry
said. His voice was still strong. �That�s what I�ve been trying to tell you.
You act that way, so it was the comparison that occurred to me, but you aren�t
pathetic.�

�� Good,�
Draco said. He licked his lips, and knew Harry would feel the flicker of his
tongue. They were so close at the moment that nothing could be hidden. That was
the point. �Harry��

�� And Harry
responded to the plea in his words without hesitation, without bothering to ask
him what he pleaded for. �Draco. Take what you need.�

*

�� Harry could
not remember feeling quite as brave as he did right now.

�� He knew
there would be consequences once they got out of the box. He knew that Draco
might look at him with something different in his eyes if Harry really did give him what he needed. He knew
that Ginny might feel a sense of betrayal�no, she probably would. And there
would be the problem of explaining to anyone who hadn�t been here why Harry had offered this, instead of
simply his words.

�� Well,
everyone else wasn�t here right now. And no matter what happened, Harry was
going to face the consequences.

�� The courage
inside him filled his spine with stone, his stomach with steel. In spite of his
words, he was the first one to move,
threading his fingers through Draco�s hair and tugging lightly. Draco arched
against him, the whisper-presence of his legs suddenly becoming solid, and
Harry repeated the tug. He was smiling, he knew. He wondered what his smile
would have looked like in a mirror. Delighted? Enigmatic?

�� Not that you would know, seeing as you
haven�t looked in a mirror for a decade.

�� Like
that?� he whispered, and dropped his hand to rest on Draco�s shoulder again
when the hands on his shoulders
flexed open in delighted answer. �What else do you need?�

�� Draco
pressed closer to him, and then closer still. All right. A firm embrace, then. Harry started to shift so he would
be holding Draco in his arms as tightly as he�d ever held his children.

�� But Draco
laid his open mouth against Harry�s cheek, and Harry realized he�d probably
been mistaken. He lay still, curious, uncertain what would happen next, willing
to face anything that did.

�� Draco made
a soft, hungry sound, and Harry felt a tongue lick at him. He nearly smiled.
Draco was trying to get at the taste of salt in his skin, he thought, that
other thing that the makers of the box had deprived him of.

�� He went on
talking then, because Draco had suddenly paused as if his terrors were about to
overcome him again. Harry would take an elbow in the face if he started
struggling again, now that they were this close.

�� Besides, he
might care for Draco�s sanity. Just a bit.

�� You�re not
that far gone, or you would never have animated when I came to the house. And
you did. You snapped at me, you
snarled at me, you wanted to talk about things I tried to hide from. That was
what drew me into facing this, you know. Seeing how brave you were. You took
Veritaserum, even though you had only my word that I wouldn�t ask questions I
shouldn�t be asking, or use what I learned against you. And what you asked me
for�� Harry shook his head slightly, holding his breath for a moment when his
hair again brushed Draco�s skin. �Friendship. I would have said that didn�t
matter to you in school.�

�� He caught
his breath again as one of Draco�s hands left his shoulder and moved down his
arm. Darts of ice seemed to shoot through him as it happened, melting at once
and turning into warm shocks. But then he reminded himself that, sexually
though his body might treat this, the most important thing was anchoring Draco to
reality. If touching him would do that, Harry was more than willing to put up
with it.

�� And I
couldn�t be less than you were,� Harry continued. He thought he heard a faint
snort, and smiled, though he knew Draco couldn�t see it in the darkness. �Yes,
it was competition. I still don�t want you just to win unreservedly. I want us
both to win together. And we do if we face the future, which includes the curse
and trying to figure out how to solve it, I can�t face it less courageously
than you do.�

�� Harry,�
Draco said, a sigh so faint that Harry knew he would have missed it had it come
while he was speaking.

�� Yes?� He
splayed his hand flat on Draco�s back, fingers digging gently into his shirt.
�Just ask me for what you need, Draco.�

*

��

�� Draco felt
as though he had opened a door to a feast after starving for years.

Yes, he�d had lovers, but none of
them had been this open, this gentle, this willing to tend to what he wanted
without squirming against him to get what they
wanted. Harry acted as though Draco�s welfare were the only thing he cared
about in the world.

And now that he had part of Harry,
Draco found he wanted more and more.

�Stop talking for a moment,� he
murmured, and then aligned their heads so that he could kiss Harry.

Harry allowed it, and fearlessly
opened his mouth so Draco could taste something other than the neutral, stale
air. Draco took advantage of it at once, gasping when his tongue curled against
Harry�s. The hands on his back scraped for a moment, as though Harry was
surprised by the sudden onslaught of sensation, but Draco reveled even in that
pain. The box still tended to press on his mind when he thought of it.

He was full of Harry�s taste and
feeling, and sight wasn�t possible, but he wanted sound and smell. He pressed
closer, and pricked his ears. He heard silence, which he instantly endeavored
to shove away from him, but also Harry�s soft breathing, calm, unafraid,
steady.

�Let me hear you,� he said, pulling
his mouth away enough to ensure that Harry could make out the words. �Please.�

Then he went back to the kiss, and
this time Harry released the noises he�d been keeping in the back of his
throat. Draco could not classify them all. Sounds of hunger, sounds of wonder,
and sounds of delight were there, but not the desperation that Draco was used
to feeling as part of a sexual encounter. It seemed Harry would be perfectly
willing to lie there and kiss Draco for hours, as long as he needed it, without
proceeding to anything more.

Draco longed for more room. He
wanted to push Harry flat to his back, climb on top of him, and show him just
what more felt like. But their backs
butted against the sides of the box whenever they moved; more room wasn�t
possible.

And if there had been something
larger, perhaps Bellatrix would have�

Sudden as a storm, Draco�s mind was
snatched away, back to the moment when his aunt had fastened clamps to the skin
under his ribs. She had enchanted them to the temperature of his body so that
he couldn�t even concentrate on the sensation of cool metal to ground himself,
but she had also enchanted them to send jolts of pain into him at the most
unexpected moments. Draco tried crying and pleading and not reacting. Nothing
helped. Nothing would get rid of the pain, though by the end he was promising
Bellatrix anything if only she would.

He cramped and quivered, and he
could feel her breath on his neck,
the exhalation of her soundless laughter, and see the smirk that had finally
been on her face when she brought him back to the light�

�You�re still strong, you know.�

That voice was out of place here.
Draco tried to push it away. The last thing he needed to have while caught in
memories of Bellatrix was another
hallucination, one that would layer itself under the first one and still be
there when he woke.

But the hallucination was stubborn.
Hands rubbed his shoulders, dissipating the pain�the memory of the pain?�of the
clamps, and the voice repeated, �You�re still strong. I can see why you hid in
your house. Weakness is a terrible thing to face. But you have to face it, Draco. And I know that you have the courage to do
so.�

Draco decided in that moment that
he didn�t care if the voice wasn�t real. It was certainly more pleasant than
anything he was experiencing at the moment. He wanted to cling to it, follow
it, and make it solidify.

His hands groped blindly out, and
made contact with a warm body. He gave a grateful little gasp, and then settled
down to listen.

*

Harry had expected something like
this to happen. Intense fear couldn�t simply be conquered; the person who
suffered it might be distracted, but then it would spring out on him again. So
when Draco suddenly started thrashing in his grip, and not in passion, Harry shifted again so that he was mostly embracing
him and started calmly telling Draco about his own abilities to be a hero.

�Your heroism isn�t exactly like
mine. It isn�t exactly like Dumbledore�s, either, or Snape�s; theirs was the
courage to live with the crimes they committed and try to atone for them as
best they could. But you don�t have anything that large to atone for, Draco.
The mistakes you made during the war were just mistakes. You�ve been treating
yourself as if you made some grand effort and failed. I don�t think we�ve yet seen
what you can do.

�I know you have flashes of cleverness.
Remember the badges you designed, the ones that said Cedric Diggory was the real
Hogwarts champion and everyone should support him?� Harry could smile, his odd,
amused appreciation of Draco�s cleverness mingling with the old emotions of
hurt and grief, to create an even more peculiar blend. �I still had one in my
trunk at the beginning of seventh year�well, what would have been seventh year,
then. I stole one and hid it away. I didn�t want to tell you, of course,
but I wished I knew how you did it. I stared at it and stared at it until the
magic started to fade, and still I was no nearer figuring it out. And you did
it intuitively. Practically overnight.�

Draco�s body had ceased to
struggle, but it trembled, though held in place, and that was hardly any
better. Harry lowered his head, both so that his breath could brush the skin
behind Draco�s ear and so that Draco could hear him better.

�And how many real cowards would have
kept after me like you did, or had the courage to play Seeker on a Slytherin
team with the Weasley twins playing opposite you as Beaters? I don�t deny that
you were afraid, and sometimes you were a regular sneaky, snaky, slimy
Slytherin. But you weren�t helpless. You aren�t helpless now. You only think
you are. What about the moments when you were up against me, or another
obstacle, and kept on trying anyway? What about the moments when you failed,
got detention, and yet were already planning revenge on me? None of those
disappointments or setbacks was a blow to your self-confidence, Draco. Only the
war was, and the year before it when you were trying to keep Voldemort from
murdering your parents.�

Draco�s trembling grew worse. Harry took a deep breath. He might be
saying things that would increase the possibility of Draco falling into
catatonia, but at least he knew the other wizard was listening.

And, since they were imprisoned in the box with no chance of getting
out anyway, Harry thought he might try some delicate
surgery. This particular complex of wounds had festered in Draco�s soul for too
long, that was clear, and had started to poison not only him but his
relationships with other people. Now that he thought about it, Harry had hardly
recognized him when he opened the door to Malfoy
Manor, though the sudden fading had rather distracted him from realizing it at
the time. Draco Malfoy without his haughty pride was like Harry without his
stubbornness. It could be changed and refined as he was made into an adult, but
never banished.

And Draco hadn�t refined it. All he�d done was lock his
failures into some dark room of his conscience where he brooded over them. In
most of himself, he was still the same scared and insecure adolescent he�d
always been.

Harry was about to help Draco Malfoy grow up.

*

Draco hated and loved the voice. It hunted him into the corners of his
thoughts when he tried to get a little peace. It insisted that he pay attention
when he would have liked nothing more than to shut his brain down and vanish
into fear. It dragged and tugged on his clothing like a Crup puppy or a kitten,
though he knew the truths it wanted him to face were not nearly so benign.

And, will he or nil he, he had to listen.

�Do you know something about the year Voldemort tried to murder your
parents?

�You did the best you
could.

�No, it wasn�t the right thing to do, and you came to regret it later.
But you were sixteen years old, Draco. You were terrified out of your
wits, just learning that something you�d anticipated for years wasn�t as
glorious as you thought it would be, and that your father served a madman. He
was in prison, and your mother had already done what she could to protect you.
Why should you have been able to do everything perfectly when your parents,
intelligent and experienced adult wizards of high political standing, couldn�t?

�That�s what I think you�ve never understood. You can�t forgive
yourself because of hindsight. But if you�d had the hindsight at the time, of course you would have acted differently. Abusing yourself because you never
knew from the beginning is fruitless.

�I�m not going to pretend that what you did that year was shining and
spotless. You nearly killed my best friend. You did almost kill an innocent
bystander. You put Madam Rosmerta under the Imperius Curse. You rejected the
help Snape could have given you. And until the end you believed that you could
kill Dumbledore, I think. But what you did wasn�t as horrible a failure as you
seem to think it is, either.

�You�re weak, Draco. But you�re not a weakling.�

Draco�s mind rushed ahead to the time Bellatrix had imprisoned him in
Malfoy Manor�s cellar, the times he�d tortured people under the Dark Lord�s
command, how he�d hardly dared to meet anyone�s eyes�

�You survived,� said the voice, and the arms around him
grew tighter and warmer and more present. �You didn�t crack, even when your
aunt tried to make you do that.� There was a comforting hatred in his voice;
since his mother almost never spoke of her dead sister, Draco had had no one in
the past decade to properly loathe Bellatrix with. �You didn�t mouth off to the
wrong person and get killed, which is what I would have done.�
The voice sounded full of clear sight and regret for its own weakness. �What
you�ve never been able to do is forgive yourself.�

�I�� Draco�s voice was a horrible
croaking thing. He hated it, because it made him sound even more pathetic than
he knew he was. �I tortured people.�

�You were told to,� said the voice
instantly, with so much certainty that Draco had to believe it, even though he
wondered how the voice could know.

�Obeying orders isn�t an excuse,�
Draco mumbled, something he remembered reading in a book of philosophy.

�When the person obeying orders is
an adult, and sane, and has the option to refuse, no,� the voice countered
calmly. �You might have chronologically been an adult, but you weren�t anywhere
near Voldemort�s equal, and you weren�t grown up, as I think we�ve
established. And I don�t think �terrified out of your mind� really counts as
sane.�

�I�what happens if I let it go?�

�You become a stronger person. A
better person.�

�But what if I f-forget and do it
again?� Draco wanted to feel ashamed of himself for wailing like a child, but
the answers to his questions were more important.

�I don�t think you will,� the voice
said. �I think it�s burned into your memory.� It grew sly. �And besides, if you
forget, I�ll be around to remind you and bring you down a notch or two. But
right now I want to build you up. It�s no fun kicking someone who�s down, you
know.�

�What if you leave?�

�I won�t leave,� the voice said,
and the arms tightened to the point that Draco thought he could feel his own
ribs creaking. �I won�t ever leave you.� And it paused, and then it added, �And
there�s no sense in feeling shame for breaking under torture, either. That�s
what torture�s designed to do. That�s what happens.�

�You never broke,� Draco accused,
somehow sure that was right, though at the moment he couldn�t remember who the
speaker was.

�But, as you pointed out, I wasn�t
ever in captivity for long periods of time, either.�

Had he pointed that out? Draco
couldn�t remember.

�You�re not all right yet,� the
voice admitted frankly. �And when you come back to yourself, you�ll probably be
angry at me for making you face this. But you�re alive, and you�re sane�I won�t
let you be insane�and even though you might not be a very good person right
now, you�re nowhere near as evil as you think yourself. Your son loves you.
Your mother loves you. And you love them. It takes an evil person, one like
Voldemort, to be incapable of love.�

�And what about you?�

�Am I evil?� The voice sounded
amused again.

�Do you love me?�

�Not yet.�

�Do you like me?� Draco squeezed
his eyes fiercely shut, despite knowing it wouldn�t stop what was coming.

�Yes.�

That was all it took. Draco wasn�t
trapped in the darkness all by himself, calling futilely for someone to save
him, as he�d been when his aunt tortured him. Someone had come to get him, and
thought he was worth saving.

He wasn�t alone.

He began to weep, as the wound that
had done no more than scab for ten years burst open at last, and let its
sourness flow out, and began to heal.

*

Harry cradled Draco as closely as
he could, not minding the dampness soaking into his face and hair and robes.
That was just more proof that Draco was alive, after all. He kept his hands
moving, and his voice murmuring constant soothing words, though it finally grew
so hoarse he could barely talk�and Draco was probably sobbing too hard to hear
him anyway.

He knew what his words meant. He
knew he�d given up a part of himself he couldn�t ever take back. And he�d
promised to be with Draco, no matter what happened.

He had never felt so calm.

Draco eventually went to sleep,
arms locked around Harry�s torso, a whimper of protest rising up his throat
whenever Harry shifted. Harry closed his eyes, though of course that made no
difference in the darkness, and listened to Draco�s quiet, steady breathing.

When the lid of the box pulled
back, Harry started to roll over, determined to put himself in the way of
whatever pain Salazar�s Snakes might try to inflict on Draco.

And then Hermione�s voice said,
�Harry?� and he closed his eyes in sheer relief.

Hermione and the rest had to lift
them out of the box together, instead of one at a time. Draco�s arms and
Harry�s arms were both clamped in place, and both refused to let go.

*

Amiyom, mariahs_fantasy, Ramandu, Soria:
Thank you for reviewing!

Mangacat: As you will see, Salazar�s
Snakes are nowhere near as brilliant as they think they are.
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I Give You a Wondrous Mirror