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The Stag and The Snake	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9713 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
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Chapter 5 – Secrets Don't Make Friends

Harry had a hard time wrapping his mind around the new turn his life had taken. After spending so long in varying states of terror alternated with long gaps of nothing to occupy his thoughts but the fear at what would come when day changed into night, or vice versa, it took him several days to acclimate himself to the feeling of joy.

Every morning and every evening Snape would come to him. His questions and Harry's answers never changed, but the encounters had steadily become more forceful, more violent. After being kept in such a state of near-malnutrition for so many years, he was too skinny and too weak to fight back. Not that he didn't try, but after each encounter he felt so deeply ashamed at his own weakness that it was sometimes a trial to smile when Draco came to him. He never told Draco what happened, and he always came late enough that he was no longer a witness to the encounters.

With each visit, Draco brought news. “We're still looking, but most of Remus's sources have almost no record of this curse, except when it's mentioned in passing. We don't want to use the Hogwarts libraries, just in case Snape figures out what we're up to.” They had been sitting underneath a towering willow, Draco's back pressed against the trunk, and Harry in between his legs, his back pressed into his chest. It always unnerved him a little just how small he had become. Surely he had filled out more than this? The thought unsettled him more than he liked to admit. Draco's voice pulled him from his morose thoughts. “We're waiting on an answer from one of Remus's Russian contacts, we should hopefully hear back soon.” Draco pressed his chin into Harry's shoulder, and coiled his arms around his waist.

“You'll find something, it's only a matter of time.” His fingers traced the contours of Draco's fair hands, and he felt him shiver.

More difficult to hear was news of his friends and family. In the name of security, Draco had told no one that he had found Harry, save Remus. The news that his two best friends had given up on his was a heavy blow, regardless how delicately Draco had tried to phrase it. “It's not like they stopped being your friend,” Draco said gently, pressing a light kiss to the side of Harry's neck, while he rubbed a hand slowly up and down his back. “Granger fancies herself a realist. She probably only went along with us to humour Weasley, as cold as it sounds. They still care for you, but they believe that you're dead.”

“Hermione was never one to hang on to fantasies,” Harry mumbled, his head bowing forward a little. “It's just a little tough to hear.” Draco hugged him more tightly.

“And soon we'll have this curse broken, and I get to tell them, 'I told you so.'” He grinned and Harry laughed a little, leaning back into Draco's embrace.

“I'm sure she'll love that,” Harry said with a grin, turning to kiss Draco again, his bony hand pressed against Draco's cheek. The sight of his own flesh made him feel almost queasy. What must he look like to Draco? All taut skin and protruding bone, a husk of his former self. Harry started a little when he felt Draco's hands at his waist, pulling him closer. His own self-consciousness muted a little, as he focused on the delicious sensation of being close to his lover again.

When they broke the kiss, Harry huffed a small, despondent sigh. He pressed his cheek into Draco's shoulder, and stared up at the crescent moon. “I wish I could help somehow...” he mumbled, shivering a little when he felt Draco's fingers press lightly into his spine, tracing the vertebrae as Harry spoke.

“Me too,” Draco murmured, moving to press a light kiss to the side of Harry's jaw. “But we're doing all we can, and we will break this curse.”

As Harry sat there, words from his past seemed to flutter to the forefront of his mind, hitting him as suddenly as a brick to the face. '...out eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank...' His mouth dropped open.

~*~

The Leaky Cauldron was quieter than usual. Draco felt as though his cool, indifferent demeanour he usually projected had been utterly shattered. He had sent Remus an owl that morning requesting he meet him, but even though the man was far from being late, he couldn't help but worry. Would this work? Would this Weasley even know about this curse? Was Draco wasting his time? The firewhisky did little to settle his jangling nerves.

At five past, Remus stepped into the pub. Draco motioned to Tom to bring him another round, and after Remus had settled down and Tom returned to his place behind the bar, Draco blurted out the story in a rush. Unfortunately, thinking before he spoke was not a common tack for him, and it came out painfully garbled. “Harry, Weasley, Gringotts,” Remus gave him an extremely odd look, and Draco could feel the flush rising up his neck. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Harry thinks we ought to contact Weasley, the Curse Breaker.”

“Bill, you mean?” Draco nodded. While he still felt reluctant to ask the Weasleys for anything, he was willing to dismiss old prejudices if this could possibly help Harry. “It's an idea,” Remus said after a moment's silence. “You're aware, of course, that generally the kinds of curses Bill deals with are vastly different than Harry's...Affliction?”

“I thought of that,” Draco replied, taking his time to think over his words before he spoke, “but even if he's never seen it, I'd assume he may have at least heard of it, given his vocation?”

“I'll draft a letter to him,” Remus held up a hand to stop Draco interrupting, “I'll be sure to tell him to not tell his family, nor who has cast it. Hopefully we'll get an answer soon.”

~*~

Remus was up to something. Sirius was generally not a paranoid bastard by nature, that being a mindset he usually left to Alastor Moody. This time however, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being left out of something. His Bonded was coming home late several times per week, looking both strained and content all at once. The recent passing of the full moon added to the all-around dishevelled look, and for once Sirius didn't find it endearing.

He wanted to confront Remus, but he had no idea how to phrase it. To take his mind off things, he delved into the private ramblings of his godson. Though it made him feel worse, at least it took his mind off the present.

I sometimes think about my Hogwarts years. They went by so fast I sometimes wonder if they ever happened at all. It's like all of my anxiety about the summer after my seventh year made time go faster. The memories come back to me in a weird way. The bad ones are really clear, and it sometimes takes me a second to remember the good ones. Not that Hogwarts was bad, it was like a second home to me. But sometimes the bad completely eclipsed the good. Cedric dying, Wormtail and Crouch Jr trying to revive Voldemort, Dumbledore dying...

But then I remember good things too. Quidditch, Ron and Hermione, Remus teaching me the Patronus Charm, mad parties in the Gryffindor common room, tea with Hagrid(minus his rock cakes)...I can't think of anything else offhand.

But I wish I had been smart enough to talk to McGonagall about the whole Snape thing. I still don't know if I was being paranoid or not, I thought he just hated me. But after sixth year, it always seemed like there was something else too, I mean, besides the hate. His hand would linger on mine, or he would stare at me in a way that made me want to crawl out of my skin. I dunno. I never told my friends, how weird would it be to try and explain that, on top of the whole I'm-Being-Married-Off-To-A-Malfoy thing? All I know is that I'm glad that I don't have to see him again. I mean, I'm pretty sure I was being paranoid, but still. Whether or not I was imagining it, it was still creepy.

Sirius felt slightly sick. His mind flashed back to the night of the ball. He remembered one particular moment of Snape dancing with his godson, Remus threatening to hex him if he dared make a scene, then Draco breaking them apart, closely followed by the old greaseball saying something angrily at them, then sweeping out of the hall.

Snape.

Sirius felt very proud of himself. Instead of storming off to Hogwarts and beheading the Potions Master with a nice severing charm, he bookmarked the page in Harry journal, downed half a bottle of Muggle whisky, and sat in front of the fire. Waiting for Remus was exhausting, and against his better judgment he finished off the rest of the liquor. In his drunken haze, made it halfway to the bedroom before he passed out.

Ow. Someone was standing over him, but it was more a sense than anything else. His head was pounding, and he clapped a hand to his head as he slowly sat up. “Did someone catch that rampaging hippogriff?” he mumbled. Remus chuckled, and pushed something small and made of glass into his hand. When he didn't respond right away, gentle hands guided the vial to his mouth.

He swallowed the vile liquid, gagging slightly as he did so. The room slowly came into focus. Remus was standing over him, looking both amused and concerned in equal measure. “Is there a particular reason why you felt the need to give yourself alcohol poisoning?” Though Remus spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper, the sound lanced through Sirius's head as though the man had been shouting. He rubbed a hand over his eyes.

“Journal, bookmark. Read it. I'll be back.” He stood up and ambled to the kitchen to make himself a strong coffee, still waiting for the hangover potion to work on the tail end of his pounding skull. He tapped the kettle with his wand, the water coming to an instant boil, and he measured out the coffee granules with slow precision. He wasn't entirely certain why he was dragging his feet in making the beverage, though all intentions to confront Remus about his recent late nights had been chased from his mind by this latest discovery.

With his hands clasped tightly around the white 'I Heart Werewolves' mug, he stepped back into the sitting room with his head feeling a great deal clearer. Remus was staring down at the pages with a look of disgust on his face. “What do you think, Remus?” He looked up as Sirius eased onto the sofa next to him.

Remus looked nervous. Remus never looked nervous. After living with the man for nearly twenty years, it took him barely a split second of thought to realize the truth. Sirius stood up too fast and his head spun, but his rage and sense of betrayal completely eclipsed everything else.

“You knew. You knew Harry was alive. You knew that it was Snape and you didn't tell me!” He spat every word like a curse. Remus stood up quickly and took a few steps forward.

“Sirius, please, it's not that simple—” Remus reached out to grab his hand, and Sirius lurched away as though he'd been burned.

“Don't fucking touch me!” He yelled, the coffee cup in his hand falling from his grip and clattering to the floor in a mess of drink and broken porcelain. “How could you? How could you not tell me that it was Snape that had Harry?”

“Sirius it's a very delicate situation, if you would just—”

“Fuck delicate, Remus! He's my fucking godson. Tell me where he is!” He roared the words, but Remus did not quell or back down.

“Sirius, listen to me!” Remus's yells matched his own, and he was shocked into momentary silence. Remus very rarely yelled, and that was enough to temporarily shut him up. Sirius was still seething with anger, and his body shook from the effort of keeping himself quiet.

“I don't know where Harry is.” His voice dropped back down to its normal level, though something in his voice all but dared Sirius to interrupt him. “Draco found Harry. He won't tell me where he's being held. All I know is that Severus has cursed Harry, and he's trying to force him to...to—” Remus cut himself off with a noise of disgust, raking his fingers through his short hair in anger.

Sirius was quiet. The hints in the journal, the dance at the Ball all those years ago, it all added up to one horrifying conclusion. “He's trying to force Harry to Bond with him, isn't he?” Sirius was amazed how calm his voice sounded to his own ears. Remus nodded, his mouth curved in a minute frown, a look of disgust upon his face. Sirius felt sick, horrified that someone would do that to Harry. The feeling was further amplified in knowing it was not just any ex-Death Eater doing it, but greasy Snivellus. So much for Albus's golden boy, Sirius thought, his mouth twisting into a small, bitter smile. A warm hand slipped into his own and jarred him from his thoughts.

“Come sit down,” Remus said gently, his eyes pleading with him. “I'll explain everything.”
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The Stag and The Snake