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Practicing Liars	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 63257 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter Fifteen�Plans Made
to Be Broken

�� Harry could
feel his eyes widen and the spit dry in his throat. He blinked for several
moments at Snape without being able to think of anything he could say.

�� Such a shame that the Pride of Gryffindor cannot make them proud
with speeches as well.� Snape folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. �It
was a simple question, Potter. If you falter on this, I cannot imagine how we
are supposed to let you be part of the rescue.�

�� Clashing
thoughts rebounded in Harry�s head.

�� They want me to be part of it?

�� This is exactly why I would never be able to
trust Snape. He can�t praise me honestly. He can�t praise anyone honestly who
isn�t a Slytherin. He would hate and despise me even more if he knew that I�d
managed to lie to him and his supremacy was no longer complete.

�� Strangely,
the mere thought of how horrible Snape�s reaction to him could be, the even worse things Snape could do and say to
him that he�d feared for so long, helped steady Harry. He found himself sitting
up and giving Snape a nasty smile.

�� I do have
that life-debt, sir,� he said. �The question is, why
should I let you have it?�

�� Snape and
Malfoy exchanged a glance. Harry didn�t try to understand it. He surmised it
was another �Gryffindors are such fools� glances, and he�d already had enough
of them to last a lifetime. He folded his arms and waited.

�� I believe,�
said Snape at last, with such caution that you�d have thought he was confessing
a state secret to somebody, �that only such a strong compulsion as a life-debt
would permit us to force one of the Death Eaters to let us pass the enchanted
boundaries of the Dark Lord�s safehouses.�

�� Harry knew
better than to look intimidated, though he did wonder how Snape could speak in
such long sentences without pausing to rest his breath. �Why can�t you simply
get us inside, sir? I know you have ways.� He wasn�t sure how much Malfoy knew
about Snape and the Death Eaters, so he kept that quiet.

�� Those ways
are no longer widely available to me,� Snape said, even more carefully. He gave
Harry another baleful glare. Harry raised his eyebrow and sat there being unimpressed
until Snape glanced away. �I would prefer to have the surety of someone who
must sacrifice his life for us if he wishes to be free of the claim on his
magic.�

�� And I
wouldn�t,� Harry retorted. �Wormtail�s a coward, sir,
plain and simple. What�s to keep him from getting so afraid that he betrays us
to Voldemort?�

�� Malfoy
caught his breath. Harry couldn�t believe he�d been quiet so long, and shot him
a curious look. Snape glared at him and covered his left arm with one hand, as
if the Dark Mark was a living thing that could know they were talking about it.

�� I will not
have you speak that name as we make our plans, Potter,� he says.

�� Harry just
shrugged, and had some satisfaction in seeing Snape�s eyes get even darker with
anger.

�I will have your promise of that
before I permit you to be involved in this rescue,� Snape said in a voice that
he probably imagined made him sound like a deadly snake and really only made
him sound like he had a bad cough.

�� Harry hesitated.
On the one hand, he didn�t want to give up saying Voldemort�s name. What if Snape
never let him start again? That would be just like him.

�� On the
other hand, he did want to be involved in this. It was the only way he could
think of to show Malfoy that he still felt sorry for him and wanted to help
without looking like he thought Malfoy�s opinions about blood traitors and
Muggleborns were all right.

�� He nodded.

�� Speak the
promise,� Snape told him.

�� God, he would be an awful father. Always
making sure there are no loopholes that you can wriggle out of. Harry knew
that he couldn�t have that. The Dursleys always left him some leeway because they
simply didn�t care enough about him to restrict everything he could do.

�� Thanks for keeping it from him, Mum.

�� He met
Snape�s eyes and said, �All right, I promise I�ll call him something else.�
Snape nodded shallowly, and Harry glanced over at Malfoy to see how he would
take it. He was surprised to find that the other boy�s eyes were wide with what
looked like relief.

�� I don�t understand. It�s just a name. If
Voldemort could hear you when you said it or something, then Dumbledore would have
told me.

�� Now we
must consider how we are to enter Malfoy Manor,� Snape said. �Since Lucius is
in prison and the Dark Lord shows no signs of breaking him
out, and since Narcissa is manifestly unable to help us, that leaves
only one candidate.� He turned and looked at Malfoy.

*

�� Draco
lifted his head. He hoped that he appeared calm and composed and adult, and he
knew that he probably looked none of those things.

�� But you�re the one who�s going to rescue
your mother. And it�s not as though this is a test about something you don�t
know. How many times has Father shown you the secret doors and passages?

�� Draco
winced when he thought that Lucius might have shown the Dark Lord those doors
and passages, too. But he would have to hope that hadn�t happened. He said
quietly, �I know a way to get us across the grounds and into the house, sir.
But the Dark Lord has wards around the walls that would detect us if we
Apparated in.�

�� I do not
propose to Apparate the entire way,� Professor Snape said, with all the coolness
of tone that Draco lacked and wished he had. �I wish to make sure what options
we do not have, but I never expected
Apparition to be one of them. I assume that all Floo connections are closed and
monitored?�

�� Draco
nodded. �Grandfather Abraxas came up with a spell
that links all the fireplaces together and puts them under control of the Lord
of the manor, and my father gave that control to the Dark Lord before he went
to prison.� He probably thought it was a
good idea at the time, he thought bitterly. On the other hand, if his
father hadn�t done that, the only other option would have been to pass it to
Draco, and then the Dark Lord would just have forced him to give it up anyway.
Lucius had chosen the option that left him and his family with some dignity.

�� No
Flooing.� Professor Snape drew his fingers carefully together. �How
well-watched are the Manor�s grounds and the land immediately around it? How
well-watched are the skies?�

�� Draco
blinked. Does he mean to go in on brooms?
I thought he didn�t fly well. �There are Death Eaters who watch all of
them,� he said obediently. �At least two for each quadrant of the Manor
grounds, or there were at the beginning of summer. The Dark Lord could have
changed that now.�

�� Professor Snape
nodded to him, as if commending his good sense. Draco sat up straighter and
couldn�t help giving Potter a proud little glance. See? Someone respects me. You can, too.

�� Potter
could have looked at him. He was watching Snape instead, with his forehead so
wrinkled that Draco almost lost the scar among all the folds.

�� He snorted
quietly and faced Professor Snape. �There were a few guards beyond the walls,
but not many. There are some Muggles who travel past, and the Dark Lord didn�t
want to attract their attention. You know that most of the Death Eaters can�t
be trusted on their own, sir,� he added.

�� Professor
Snape nodded. �And watching the skies?�

�� I only saw
some of them fly up sometimes,� Draco said. �Never very
regularly. But maybe he�s changed that, too, since I�ve been home.� He
had to blink and swallow when he thought about that. Home, but it no longer felt that way. Now it was the house where
the Dark Lord lived and his mother was tortured.

�� Then I
propose to Apparate as close as we can, before we fly,� said Professor Snape. �It
is the best way to approach unobserved. We will have contacted Pettigrew before
this time and arranged to have him meet us outside the wards. He will conduct
us inside�and he will forfeit more than his life if he betrays us, Potter,� he
added. He must have seen Potter�s mouth open out of the corner of his eyes,
just the way Draco had.

�� Potter
shook his head, a stubborn light in his eyes. �He betrayed my parents because
he was more afraid of Volde�of the Bastard Who Won�t
Die than he was of betraying his friends, sir. How can we be sure that he won�t
do that again? Especially if he�s there?�

�� Draco
blinked. What? I thought it was Sirius
Black who betrayed his parents. He�d heard rumors to the contrary, but he�d
never believed them. Pettigrew�s rat Animagus form seemed to be the sole reason
he was in the Death Eaters� ranks.

�� I have the
means to make sure that he does not,� Professor Snape said, and a ghastly smile
broke across his face. Draco, who knew it was meant
for their enemies, smiled back. Potter seemed less sure and stared for a few
minutes before he slowly nodded.

�� All right,�
he said. �And will he tell us how to get Mrs. Malfoy out, too? Or will we have
to do something else to convince her to come with us?� He glanced at Draco.

�� Mister Malfoy will do the convincing,�
Professor Snape said. �She cares for his life more than her own. She will come
with us.�

�� Potter
looked as if he thought that no Slytherin could ever care for someone�s life before their own, but he nodded again.

�� Then he
asked a question Draco had not expected. He supposed it was good to be reminded
that Gryffindors were capable of the startling once in a while, but that didn�t
make up for the surprise that raced through him like a flicker of fire.

�� Are you
going to tell Professor Dumbledore about this, sir?�

�� Professor
Snape gave another smile, or at least Draco could have called it that if he was
feeling generous. Draco thought it was more like just parting his lips and
happening to show his teeth.

�� He has his
means of learning about such endeavors,� Professor Snape said coolly. �I think
we will leave him to use those means.�

�� Draco
smiled again. Potter gulped as if wondering what he�d got himself into, but
nodded yet again.

�� I wish he would nod at me like that, Draco
thought suddenly. He doesn�t respect
Snape, so he can�t be listening just because he�s a teacher. If he can accept
the words of someone who�s the Head of Slytherin and keeps torturing him, why
can�t he believe someone who hurts him a little bit sometimes?

�� Draco
frowned. He would have an answer to that question, and soon.

�� It will
take perhaps a week for me to contact Pettigrew and arrange matters so that we can
depart the school without attracting suspicion,� Professor Snape was saying. �Have
your brooms always ready to leave at a moment�s notice.�

�� Yes, sir,�
Draco and Potter said, both at once. Potter gave Draco a suspicious glance, as
if he thought echoing his words was such a grand treat
that Draco had done it on purpose.

�� Draco
decided that he would do something different, though. He smiled.

�� Potter
jolted back in his chair and turned his head carefully away. When Professor
Snape dismissed him, he practically ran down the corridor and wouldn�t wait
even though Draco risked a low call after him.

�� Gryffindors, Draco thought in disgust as
he trekked back to the Slytherin common room. Who can understand them?

*

�� Severus�s
letter to Peter was a masterpiece. Full of soft, vague, threatening hints about
what would happen if the life-debt was not fulfilled, and yet never saying
those words in such a manner that Peter could confirm what would happen, it made Severus feel better than
anything had done since he discovered Lily�s complicity in torturing him. He
watched the owl wing away with the parchment, and a deep relaxation settled
into him.

�� He had made
it even more believable by telling Peter that he was willing to help Potter
with this because he was Lily�s son.

�� Lily�s son.

�� It was an
impossible observation to escape since uncovering the memory had brought her
back to the surface of his mind. Potter had some of her expressions, her
impulsiveness, her ability to hold grudges. Severus
sometimes watched him in the Great Hall during the evening and even saw her in
the way that the boy picked up a fork or flicked a piece of egg at the back of
his friends� heads.

�� That was going too far. Lily would not have
done something like that.

�� But then he
remembered times she had participated in food fights with the rest of
Gryffindor House and he had watched her with uneasy fascination from the
Slytherin table, wondering why she would do something so undignified, something
so different from the playfulness they shared when they were children. It was
one thing to have fun and another to have fun in a way that was so meaningless. Food fights could not hone
her magic, they could not make her stronger or faster, and they earned her
annoyance that might come out in pranks later, resulting in the loss of her
dignity. Why should she do such a thing?

�� He had
suppressed those memories, and with the help of no outside force, no Memory
Charm. They had happened. But he had pretended to himself that they did not,
and learned to see Lily as perfect.

�� He had
needed that, perhaps, in the first years after the war, when he could not stand
to think that of his actions in other terms than pure guilt. He had condemned
someone beautiful and blameless to death, and that her son had survived her was
not enough. He had never seen the boy, then. How could he think that a
self-sacrificial death�which he had no doubt it was�or a squalling baby was any
proper memento of her?

�� It had
seemed that only building a shrine to her in his soul would be. And so he had
done, though without any consciousness that he was idealizing her. He would have
said, if anyone had the temerity to ask him and the importance
to him not to be blown to pieces on the instant, that he had remembered her as
she was, as the others would not whose tongues and heads were full of James.

�� No matter how
carefully he walked, no matter what direction his thoughts turned, he stepped
on pieces of his own shattered idols.

�� He told himself
to pluck the only good fruit of his speculations, the fact that he noticed more
about Potter than he used to now, and give up the rest. It was barren and
bitter.

�� He had
wandered in a wasteland for the last fifteen years. Why should he not be able
to bear that? Why should he care that his one spring of sweet water had been
poisoned? If he were truly strong, he would long since have become accustomed
to going without.

*

�� Harry
leaned over the Prince�s book and moved his lips silently as he repeated the incantation.
The problem was that he couldn�t test it,
because he had no idea what it would do except that it was a spell for enemies,
and so there was no one here that he would actually want to use it on.

�� Even Malfoy?

�� Harry
sighed and slammed the book shut. He knew the incantation well enough by now to
have memorized it, and he really wanted the time to think about Malfoy
undisturbed.

�� Miraculously,
it looked as though he�d have it. Neville was out of the room for the night,
watching a special Herbology project that Professor
Sprout wanted him to supervise in one of the greenhouses. Seamus had vanished as
he tended to do lately�Harry thought he had a girlfriend in one of the other
Houses�and Dean was out with Ginny.

�� Harry hadn�t
seen Ron since dinner, and that had been a brief glimpse. He�d rushed past
Harry with green tentacles growing down over his ears in place of hair. He�d
been headed for the hospital wing.

�� Harry rolled
his eyes as he turned over on his back to stare up at the canopy. He didn�t
know what to do about Hermione and Ron. Probably just wait until they got their
jealousy out of their systems and finally got together.

�� His mind
wandered back to Malfoy. The idiot. The
suffering idiot. Harry didn�t know what he would do if his mother was
alive and a prisoner of Voldemort.

�� I would have probably gone to rescue her
immediately.

�� But Malfoy
didn�t have experience in acting alone on a dangerous mission. (He�d done a
horrible job of keeping up with his secret mission in the Room of Requirement, in
Harry�s opinion). He wasn�t brave. He was talented in Defense, reasonably, but
he didn�t have the command of spells that Harry was beginning to realize he
did. What could he have done?

�� A weird
warm, sloshy feeling began in Harry�s stomach. He
poked the muscles there for a moment and wondered if he�d eaten too much
pudding after dinner.

�� Was he
feeling protective of Malfoy?

�� But no
matter how long he lay there telling himself it was ridiculous, he knew what he
felt. Yes, he was protective of Malfoy. He was such a git. He didn�t know the right way to do anything when it came to
fighting Voldemort. But he had to do it because he had to rescue his mum. Harry
could just picture him screwing up his eyes and charging into battle, hoping it
all worked out somehow.

�� Harry shook
his head. Of course it wouldn�t work out. So he would come along and make sure
Malfoy and his mum got out of the Manor safely. Snape would be there, too, but
somehow Harry thought the real work would fall to him. Probably because Snape
would be too busy lying to Death Eaters and intimidating Pettigrew, and Harry
couldn�t imagine Malfoy doing anything when he was so worried about his mother.

�� There. That�s why I feel protective. I have
to be or the rescue mission won�t go right.

�� Maybe it
was more than that, but Harry didn�t intend to think about it anymore. Malfoy
had occupied more than his fair share of Harry�s thoughts this evening. He
flipped around and picked his book up again. There were other incantations he
wanted to memorize before they left.

*

�� Potter was
being nice to him.

�� Draco
couldn�t believe it at first. But Potter lingered after Defense. Draco thought
he simply wanted to speak to Professor Snape�it made sense that they would
coordinate the spells they would use on the journey�but instead Potter fell
into step beside him when he came
out.

�� Draco
glanced down the corridor nervously, but he couldn�t see any other hiding, giggling
Gryffindors. Then he looked up, but Peeves wasn�t waiting ready to dump a water
balloon on him, either.

�� He glared
at Potter.

�� Can�t
someone apologize without you looking as if you wanted a wall to fall on them?�
Potter muttered out of the side of his mouth.

�� Draco hated
the undignified way his mouth fell open, but he dared any Slytherin not to
react that way when Harry Pottered said that to them.

�� I don�t
like everything about you,� Potter said. �But I like enough that I should have been
less hasty when I judged you.�

�� Draco
peered into his eyes, trying to see if his pupils were dilated. He knew some
potions that would make people react like this.

�� Potter
blinked, ruining Draco�s view of his pupils. �What are you doing?�

�� He sounded offended.
Draco didn�t want him to feel like that and turn away again. He hastily dipped
his head and muttered, �I accept your apology.� He hesitated, then realized
that Potter might turn away thinking that had been enough and it was up to him
to make sure Potter stayed around. �Are you�do you want to talk after dinner?
Can you get away?� Potter�s little friends hadn�t been noticing much of what he
did lately, but that could change at any time.

�� Potter
smiled slightly. �Yeah. Where should we meet?�

�� Draco
thought about that, while simultaneously checking over his shoulder to make
sure no one was watching them from the Defense classroom. �What about the room
where you told me about Pomfrey? There doesn�t seem to be anyone there most of
the time. And it�s a little cold to meet on the Quidditch pitch.�

�� Have you
forgotten that you�re a wizard?� Potter teased him, the way Draco had when he
hadn�t cast a Warming Charm. �I�ll see you there at six.�

�� He left
before Draco could object about the time. But Draco was smiling as he went back
to the Slytherin common room.

�� You shouldn�t let your desire for his trust
control you, his father�s voice warned gravely in his head. When you start to value your outlet more
than the situation that occasions the need for that outlet, then you are
becoming its slave.

�� Draco shook
his head and sat down on his bed when he got into the room, closing his eyes.
He�d had a headache on the way to Defense, but it was gone now, as if Potter�s
words were a potion.

�� I won�t become a slave to it. If it ever
turns out that it would be to my advantage to betray Potter, then I�ll do it.

�� But the advantage would have to be enormous.
I like this. I like talking to him.

�� I like it.

*

�� Severus
took the letter from the owl that had flown to him at the Head Table. He
recognized the scrawl on the outside of the envelope, though not the bird; the
Death Eaters were not so stupid as to use owls with unusual size or markings to
deliver messages.

�� At least, they are not so stupid after
several of the Dark Lord�s admonitions, Severus thought as he tucked the
letter into his pocket. Pettigrew had taken the bait. Severus would have to
wait to examine the message until after dinner, and thus to tell Potter and
Draco whether they should be ready to move or not.

�� A letter
from an admirer, Severus?� asked Trelawney, hiccupping gently. The abominable
woman appeared to be drunk again. �You must
let us see it.�

�� Severus
quelled her with no more than a glance, but stood up and left the table soon
after. He had eaten enough�he never ate much; that presented less opportunity
for someone to slip a poison or potion into his food�and he wished to be sure
of Pettigrew.

�� He was glad
he had not waited when he saw the words at the top of the parchment.

�� It must be tonight.

�� Severus
turned swiftly to summon Potter and Draco.

*

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Practicing Liars