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Practicing Liars	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 63257 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

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Chapter Eighteen�The Gravity of the
Situation

�� As if I would want to date you in the first place!�

�� Why were you so angry when you saw
me snogging Lavender, then?�

�� I don�t have to justify myself to you.�

�� That still doesn�t tell me why you
were angry.�

�� An angry shout, a swiftly chanted
incantation that sounded like doom coming nearer and nearer, and then the noise
of boxes falling over on someone. A moment later, Hermione came hurrying down
the stairs, her face pink with satisfaction, and ducked out the door of the
common room, slamming it behind her as if she assumed someone would chase her.

�� Not
a bad assumption, Harry thought in resignation as he watched Ron pound down
the stairs in turn, face red and large bruises on his legs and hands.

�� Neville, who was lying on the floor
doing homework, buried his head in his arms. Dean rolled over and looked the
other way, staring into his Charms book as if his life depended on it. The
other Gryffindors in the common room, mostly fifth-years, looked torn between
laughter and embarrassment.

�� Then Ron got a leg caught in the
portrait hole trying to get out, and the embarrassment increased to the point
that Harry thought he could have felt it in another room.

�� That�s
really quite enough, isn�t it? Harry thought suddenly, and raised his wand.
He�d been trying to keep out of Ron and Hermione�s rows, because he thought it
wasn�t his place to interfere. But at this point they were making everyone else miserable and acting like idiots. There
was no reason that he couldn�t do something about that.

�� Levicorpus!�
he called, using a spell from the Half-Blood Prince�s book.

�� Ron flew away from the portrait hole
and hung suspended upside-down in mid-air. Neville stared up, and even Dean turned
away from his book and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Ron immediately started
spluttering something about Hermione. From what Harry could make out, he
thought this spell was a booby-trap that Hermione had left behind her.

�� It�s me, Ron,� Harry said, with a
calm voice that at least shut him up, though he twisted around to scowl at
Harry. �And I think your stupid arguments with Hermione have gone on quite long
enough.�

�� Stupid arguments�� Ron said, and
then went purple in the face and fell silent. Harry glanced around, wondering
if someone had cast a Silencing Charm on him, then looked back and realized it
was Ron�s outrage that wouldn�t let him talk. He rolled his eyes, not even
caring about keeping that concealed from his friend.

�� Yes, stupid arguments,� Harry said,
in a slow, patronizing way that he hoped would make Ron listen. �I don�t care
who snogged who or who�s dating who or why you don�t just break down and admit
that you like her more than Lavender. But I care when you dash out into the
middle of the corridors and make sixth-year Gryffindors look like a bunch of
children. Hermione isn�t studying any more, have you noticed that? It�s stupid
and irresponsible. I want you to stop it right now.�

�� Ron shook his head, and the purple
color faded back to something like normal. He was speaking in a superior tone, Harry slowly realized,
and then he heard the words Ron was actually saying and felt like striking him.

�� You don�t understand because you�ve
never dated anyone, Harry. It�s a whole different environment, a different and
a special one. I have to make a choice between Lavender and Hermione. It�s
important. Hermione is jealous and doesn�t think I need to make a choice at
all, which is what we�re fighting about. Deep
things, things you don�t understand��

�� Harry cast a spell that flipped Ron
right-side up and stuffed his mouth with cotton. More snickers from the
fifth-years, and from a few people who had come down to sit on the stairs and
watch the show.

�� I understand well enough,� Harry
said. �There might not be many ways to get you to stop sounding like a total
arse, but I�ve found one.� There was a spell from the Prince�s book that hadn�t
looked deadly and which he had tried out on Crabbe and Goyle without their even
noticing. Ron would notice, though. �Scabies
perquam.�

�� Ron yelped and looked around as
though he thought the spell would begin immediately. Neville stared at Harry
with wide eyes. Harry grinned back, wondering if he knew what the Latin meant.

�� Now,� Harry said, as he lowered Ron
to the floor and undid the cotton in his mouth, �you won�t feel any effects
from that�unless you start rowing with Hermione again. Then you�ll start
itching and won�t be able to stop itching for ten minutes. I think it�s
excruciating, but, then, I wouldn�t know.� He shrugged and turned back to his
book.

�� You,� said Ron. �You.�

�� Yes?� Harry glanced up with an
innocent expression, watching in interest as Ron�s face turned yet another
shade of red.

�� I thought you were my friend,� Ron
said, in a lowered, trembling voice that would have made Harry feel bad, except
that he thought he knew what Ron was going to say. �My friend would never have
done that to me.�

�� My friend would never have ignored
me for a month because he was so obsessed with his girlfriend that he couldn�t
see anything else,� Harry snapped, standing up. Ron was probably going to make
the common room too uncomfortable him to study, but that was all right; Harry
would just go to the library. �When was the last time you noticed what I was
doing or saying or thinking or feeling? We haven�t studied together or traded
answers in Divination in weeks. All
you care about is Hermione and Lavender, Hermione and Lavender, Hermione and
Lavender. Well, at least you care about something else now.�

�� He turned around and walked to the
portrait hole in a silence that seemed to spread through the common room,
easily dodging the first hex Ron threw at him.

�� Maybe
I wouldn�t have told them about my problems with Snape, Harry thought
wistfully as he wandered through the castle towards the library. But it would have been nice to have the
option.

*

�� A large tawny owl swooped down
towards Draco that evening, carrying a package in its talons. Draco watched it
come with cautious eyes. Now that his mother was here with him at the school,
and the Dark Lord surely knew Draco and Professor Snape had betrayed him�though
so far he had been quiet�there was no one who could be sending him a package.

�� At least, no one who he wanted to
think about.

�� Still, the detection spells that
Draco cast on it found no curses, no hexes, and no trace of Dark magic on the
box. That didn�t mean something still couldn�t be inside it. He motioned the
rest of his yearmates to stand back�though they had already started that when
they realized how many spells he was casting on the box�and cautiously lifted
the lid.

�� A wash of dark red light from the
box made the room look as if it was underground, bathed in fires. Draco stared,
falling back in alarm as something soared out of the box and hovered in front
of him like a grotesque Howler.

�� It was his father�s severed head.

�� Its lips opened, and the Dark Lord�s
voice spoke through them.

�� Draco,� it said, in a tone so horrible
that Draco was shivering even before he recognized the voice. �This is your
payment for your contempt of my will. Your orders are stripped from you, your
importance, your consequence, everything that was to have made you one of my
followers. And your father, of course, though I imagine you care less about him
than some of the other things.�

�� An eerie chuckle followed. Draco
stared at the way his father�s long pale hair hung suspended around the head
like a sunburst, at how hollow his eyes were, and lost track of time. It might
have been a moment or an hour later that the voice spoke again, loud enough for
Draco to hear it above the screams erupting all around him.

�� Understand the fate of traitors.
From this moment every one of my followers� hands is lifted against you. Anyone
may kill you and receive only reward and praise. And as for what you had the daring to claim belonged to you by
right�� The voice descended into a hiss. �Cedo
cicatricem.�

�� Draco shrieked as his left arm
seemed to endure a thousand stab wounds all at once. He clawed at his sleeve,
even though he already knew what was happening. The Dark Mark was responding to
the will of the one who had put it there, and changing or melting or killing
him, it didn�t matter, not when it hurt this much.

�� He heard the faint thump of the head
falling to the floor, its message finished, and then the red light faded and
the shrieks of the professors and the students took over. And the pain.

*

�� Harry was on his feet the moment he
heard the first words from the floating head. He didn�t know for sure who it
was, but he could see the hair from the back and he knew who Malfoy had been
afraid for. He thought it was probably Lucius Malfoy.

�� He fought his way grimly across the room,
dodging people who backed away from the Slytherin table screaming and people
who hid their eyes and turned their backs as if that would keep reality from
happening. Harry sneered at them and didn�t hesitate to use his elbows when he
encountered people frozen from fear.

�� Didn�t any of them see that was
useless? Didn�t any of them realize there was someone here who needed help?

�� Harry leaped over one boy who, for
some reason, crouched and screamed,
and then vaulted across the Slytherin table. Someone shrieked as he knocked a
plate down. Harry ignored them. Instead, he landed beside Malfoy and wrapped
his arms around him, casting a shield at the same time so that anyone staring
would suddenly find themselves confronting a grey shimmer and nothing else.
Malfoy would want privacy.

�� At least, Harry thought he would
want that. When he pulled back enough to see his face, he wondered if Malfoy
could think coherently anymore.

�� Malfoy was crying with muffled sobs,
his hand over his mouth, as if he thought Voldemort was in the room and would
kill him if he made a sound. He was scraping his left arm against the leg of
the table over and over. He seemed to think he could get the Dark Mark off by doing
that.

�� He�ll
hurt himself, Harry thought as he watched blood drip down Malfoy�s arm. He
reached out and caught Malfoy�s wrist gently in his hand.

�� A glittering blaze rose up around
the Dark Mark, red-black like the light that had first streamed from the box.
Harry felt a corresponding burn in his scar. His mouth fell open, but he
gritted his teeth. He had suffered worse pain than this in fourth year when
Voldemort came back and stood close to him in the graveyard, and by God, he
would endure it again. Malfoy was the one who needed help right now, not Harry.

�� The Dark Mark shuddered on Malfoy�s
arm, and then melted away like rain. A rain of tar, and Harry�s insides
squirmed as it ran over his fingers. But it was gone, and Malfoy�s skin looked pink,
as if it was scorched but healing.

�� At the same time, Harry�s scar
stopped burning.

�� What
was that all about? But Harry didn�t have time to consider, because Malfoy
flung himself at Harry and hugged him as if he would never let go, so Harry had
to hold him and raise his wand when he realized someone was breaking his
shield.

�� It was Snape.

�� He stared down at Harry and Malfoy
and shifted his wand slightly. Harry glared at him and mouthed a threat that he
didn�t remember later. He thought it included If you touch him, though. He wasn�t going to be taken away now, not
when he thought Malfoy needed him so thoroughly.

�� Then he realized that people were peering
through the broken shield, and gestured at it while trying to kill Snape with
his eyes. �Don�t you think he would prefer that people not see him like this?�
he whispered.

�� Snape instantly replaced the broken
shield with a portable version that would float alongside them, and nodded to
Malfoy. �Get him to the hospital wing. Even if the Mark is�gone�� his voice
shook, and Harry knew he was probably imagining how much it would have hurt ��Madam
Pomfrey should look at him.�

�� Harry nodded shortly. And his mother will want to see him, too. He
cast a Lightening Charm and set off at a trot, the portable shield curling
around them both like mist. He could have conjured a stretcher, but he thought
Malfoy would have objected to being set down.

�� And who knew? Harry might have
objected to letting him go.

*

�� Severus had wondered at first why
the Dark Lord was delaying his vengeance. His usual method was to punish
suspect Death Eaters as quickly and brutally as possible, because some of his
followers were stupid enough that the consequences of such misdeeds would fade
from their minds otherwise.

�� Now he knew. It would have taken
some time to get past the spells into Azkaban and rescue Lucius in such a way
that the guards could not sense it, let alone prepare the Dark spells that
would have caused the head to float and speak�and be undetectable as Dark magic
from outside the box.

�� He stooped and picked up Lucius�s
head, turning it around in his hands. The magic had faded now, of course. There
was no way that even the Dark Lord could have maintained it for long. Such
feats were legendary precisely because the strength needed to cast the spells
in the first place was rare.

�� Ah, Severus.�

�� Albus was beside him already, his
eyes wary but his smile calm. Severus nodded as he met his mentor�s gaze. He
knew what had to be done, in part because Albus could not do it himself without
ruining the deception that his magic was weakening. Severus tossed the head
into the air, where it renewed the screams of panic that had begun to fade.
Then he held up his wand. He didn�t know how many people were watching him and
would notice, but there was no way that they could mistake the direction his
voice was coming from.

�� Incendio!�

�� The bolt of fire sprang away from
him and consumed Lucius�s head to ashes and then less than ashes. No one would
know that the fire was so bright and clear because of the contrast between the
Dark magic recently used on the head and the living flames. They would think
that it was Severus�s power. Already he received a few awed looks, and some
people stopped screaming to stare. Severus found their hanging jaws a small improvement
over their witless voices, but at least it was more silent.

�� One of our students has suffered a
great loss,� Albus had already begun to say, his voice tempered with sadness
and bravery. �He dared to work for what he thought was right, and in the
process was scorned by someone who is the enemy of everyone in this room.� He
glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes pinned a few of the Slytherin students Severus
himself was inclined to suspect of sympathy with the Dark Lord. �Even though it
might not seem so right now,� Albus added softly, �be assured that the Dark
Lord�s desires are inimical to life itself, and thus to everyone who is alive.�

�� Severus, attention called away from
him, spent a moment ensuring that the ashes would spread as far as possible on
a conjured wind. There was little that he could do for Lucius�often a
competitor and rival, but also the parent of a student he felt responsible for�but
this.

�� Good-bye.
You backed the wrong master.

�� Then Severus was able to turn and
follow what had been the desire of his heart since he had seen Potter crouching
there with his arms wrapped around Draco: follow them to the hospital wing.

*

�� Don�t touch him. She just put him
to sleep.�

�� If anyone had told Harry a month ago
that he would have been challenging Snape in some situation that had nothing to
do with a practice duel, he would have laughed and told them they were mad. He
would have been sure of that if
anyone had told him that the challenge would come over Draco Malfoy�s privacy.

�� Yet here he was, bristling and with
his wand out, in between Snape and the bed Draco slept on. Madam Pomfrey had
barely managed to force a Calming Draught down Draco�s throat; he hadn�t wanted
to let go of Harry. He had whispered frantic, desperate words, imploring Harry
not to leave him. And Harry had promised that he wouldn�t. He intended to make
good on that promise.

�� Narcissa Malfoy was watching from
the next bed, her eyes as large as moons. Her fingers plucked at the blankets,
and Harry reckoned that she probably wanted to come over and embrace Draco.
Madam Pomfrey hadn�t shut the infirmary off yet, though, the way she thought
she would have to if the sample of skin she�d taken from Draco�s arm proved
that he had something really wrong with him. So people were still coming in and
out, and people would wonder why the stranger Mrs. Malfoy looked like was
standing over Draco.

�� Harry had every right to be there,
though, and he lifted his head and stared at Snape so the bastard would know
Harry was asserting the right.

�� Snape paused and looked at him for
long moments. Then he shook his head. �I did not come to touch him,� he said. �I
came to see what happened, what Madam Pomfrey said.�

�� Harry put away his wand slowly,
watching Snape all the while. Draco turned over and cried out in his sleep.
Harry put a hand on his arm, and he immediately calmed down. Harry crowded back
towards him.

�� She hasn�t said anything yet,�
Harry said. He was reluctant to share this much with Snape, but Snape had
helped them down in the Great Hall with the portable shield. Besides, Madam
Pomfrey would probably just say the same thing to him when she came out. �No
immediate danger, and the Dark Mark is gone, but maybe there�s some buried
poison in his body. She took a sample of his skin.�

�� Snape nodded and took a step around
the bed. Harry tensed.

�� Snape turned to stare at him again.
Harry didn�t know why. Then again, there was nothing he understood about the
bastard, including the way Snape had treated him lately, so he stayed still.

�� Do you really think I would harm
him after what I went through to rescue his mother?� Snape whispered.

�� I think you might hurt him because you
think you�re doing good,� Harry said. �You seem to do that a lot.�

�� He meant a lot of vague things by
that, and he was puzzled as to why Snape looked at his wrist.

*

�� This was the strangest thing Snape
had ever seen. A Gryffindor, someone whose blood might be Slytherin but whose
nature was most assuredly not, crouching over Draco Malfoy as if he meant to
sell his life dearly defending him.

�� And the boy spoke like an adult,
and, at least at the moment, looked like an adult, like someone who understood
what it meant that someone else�s
life depended on him, instead of simply leaping recklessly into danger.

�� Why are you protecting him?�
Severus asked. It was the most burning question to answer at the moment, and so
it would be asked. �He is not your brother, not your son, not even your friend
or a member of your House. Nor is he vital to the war. Why shelter him from the
public notice he would hate or stay with him now?� He knew that the boy�s
healing of the Dark Mark had been involuntary, so that was not a question he
would tax him with.

�� Pott�the boy stared at him with
surprise deepening in his green eyes until his resemblance to Lily was almost
impossible to escape, glamour or no glamour. Then scorn poured into the eyes
after the shock.

�� What do you mean, why?� Potter asked, sounding genuinely
baffled that there might be a second option.

�� In that question, Severus heard the
incomprehension Albus had reacted with when Severus had asked him why he had
broken both rules and laws to allow a werewolf a fair chance to become a student
and a professor. Because there was no choice. Because it was the right thing to
do, and all the other choices wrong.

�� Severus closed his eyes. He
understood the sterling quality Albus exhibited, though he did not agree with
the results. One of the things he had always most resented about the Headmaster
was that he would extend that protection more readily to Gryffindor students
than to Slytherins.

�� This boy had decided to protect a Slytherin student with all the force
of his magic and all the honor due to standards that were important to Draco�including
his pride and dignity�even though he didn�t share them.

�� There was no possible response
except to admire Pott�the boy, however reluctantly, the same way Severus had
admired him for going along on the rescue mission and killing Bellatrix without
pause or hesitation or regret. And without regret since, at least that Severus
had noticed.

�� He had done the same thing here, to
better and stronger effect yet, because Draco needed this kind of protection
from vulgar curiosity more than he had needed Bellatrix dead.

�� Severus opened his eyes again and
stared at the boy, who regarded him warily, from James Potter�s face.

�� But
with nothing of James Potter�s soul in him. This is my son.

�� He would probably not understand why
Severus inclined his head to him in a deep nod that was nearly a bow and then
turned away to explain the situation to Narcissa.

�� But someday very soon, Severus
intended him to understand.

�� This had shown him, at last, the way
forwards, and the worth of the victory that would wait at the end of the road, the
worth of the person he would come to know, no matter how hard that road was .

*

�� Draco woke with a cry, his father�s
words�no, they were the Dark Lord�s words, but his father�s lips�echoing in his
ears. He blinked vaguely at the infirmary�s lights and turned his head to the
side.

�� My
father is dead.

�� The grief barely had time to cut him
before Potter was beside him, speaking calmly but firmly. �It�s all right. No
one else is here. You can mourn in private. Do you need anything? Do you want
me to go?�

�� Draco shook his head frantically and
reached out with trembling hands to grip Potter�s arm. �Stay with me,� he
whispered.

�� Potter dragged his chair up beside
the bed in answer and sat where he could easily reach Draco�and where Draco
could reach him, which was rather more to the point. �I�m here,� he said. �Never
elsewhere. I promise.�

�� Draco spent some time looking at him
before his eyelids began to droop. Potter�s gaze back never varied. Still
strong, still clear, still protective.

�� Draco�s thoughts were vague and
jumbled as he started to fall asleep again, but they repeated variations on a
single pattern.

�� He�s
mine. I can�t let him go. I need him.

��

*

�� jennifer: Thank you!

�� SP777: Snape might have gone for his
wand, but they were in front of other people. That would surely attract
attention. Harry was thinking pretty much the same thing.

�� And yes, it�s true that Snape has to
make some big decisions now, but he�s made the first and probably the hardest:
to be involved at all.

�� k lave demo: Yes, that�s close.
Snape wants to change but is afraid of what will happen if things change.

�� No, I doubt the revelation about
Harry being Snape�s son would be Hermione or Ron�s favorite thing ever.

�� Myniephoenix: Thank you!

�� Sneakyfox: Thanks! I�m glad you�re
enjoying it.

�� someonenotme: Thanks! There was a
lot of pressure for this particular chapter; I�m glad the first reactions are
positive.

�� MewMew2: Hee! That�s an interesting
comparison.

�� Candy_Flapjack: Thanks! I know one
of my biggest disappointments with Severitus stories is that Snape usually gets
too nice, too quickly.
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Practicing Liars