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Seasons of War	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9694 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter Eighteen�A
Lure and a Vision

�� Do you
think this will work out any better than the Fellowship did?�

�� Harry felt
a little silly asking the question. It wasn�t as though Draco knew the future.
They were both in the same place, with the same knowledge or lack of knowledge
about the other Aurors involved, except that Harry knew he gave more credit to
Ketchum and Hestia for being good Aurors than Draco did. Why should Draco have
the answers?

�� Because I trust him, Harry thought
abruptly when Draco laid down his essay and looked at him. I don�t know if it�s because I�ve followed him as a battle leader or
something else, but I do trust him to be able to tell me the truth and give me
the best estimate when other people can�t.

�� I don�t
know,� Draco said quietly. �I do know that, in the last Fellowship, we put too
much emphasis on the Aurors involved. We trusted them to lead, and we didn�t
take up the slack when they couldn�t. I think, this time, that we are older and
wiser, and if they won�t cooperate with us, then we�ll know to break free that
much sooner.�

�� Harry
nodded, more comforted than he would care to explain aloud, even to Draco
himself. �It just seems ridiculous that we don�t have a group of older Aurors
than we can trust,� he muttered. �I thought the Aurors had been preparing for
war with Voldemort for years. I don�t know why this one caught them so
off-guard.�

�� Best time
to start a war, perhaps, is in the wake of the reeling from another war,� Draco
said, and leaned back in his chair, gaze fastened on the far wall. �Everyone
thinks they can relax. Some people desperately need to, and that�s why they�ll
downplay the threat as much as possible. And so far, Nihil�s attacks have been
isolated and more frightening than fatal, except when he destroyed the
barracks. I can imagine that some of the Aurors, even now, see him as less than
a threat than the Dark Lord was, because he�s concentrating his attentions in
different ways instead of declaring his intentions aloud.�

�� I would
have thought that unbalancing the forces of life and death was serious enough
for them,� Harry said.

�� Draco eyed
him sideways. �And if we hadn�t been the ones to discover that, then do you think
that we would believe it had happened?�

�� Harry
blinked. �Oh,� he said at last. �I thought they were just being stubborn.� The
thought of them simply not believing that Nihil had managed something so awful
was�well, was more palatable, actually.

�� Draco shook
his head. �I�ve been listening to them, partially so that I can seem like I�m
fulfilling my obligations to Robards and Holder. From the mutters, they don�t
think that anyone can unbalance life and death that way, and they resent being
asked to believe it. Some of the trainees have been fuming that the Aurors still can�t tell them the truth because
it�s too awful, so they make up this stupid story and expect them to believe
it.�

�� Harry
nodded. �All right. So how do we go about convincing them that this is real?
Will the weapons do it?�

�� The
weapons will help, but I don�t think they�re sufficient alone, or the mutters
would have stopped.� Draco stroked his essay, his gaze distant. �We have the
lure out for Nemo now, those rumors circulating, and if he takes it, that might
suggest enough proof to the others. Of course, we don�t know what Nihil will do
then.�

�� Harry
shrugged. �So, basically, we wait and hope that something happens that might
convince them.�

�� Draco gave
him a superior look. �No, of course not. We can try and convince them along the
way, too.�

�� How?�
Harry demanded.

�� I don�t
know yet,� Draco said, and snorted. �Do you really expect me to have an answer
for everything?�

�� I do, but
it�s not fair,� Harry said. �I think I should work more with Portillo Lopez and
see if she and I can sense the current state of the�the imbalance, or whatever.
I mean, there were the unicorn ghosts and the shade of your father. Those were
signs of life and death being different. What other signs are there? Why
haven�t we seen more of them?�

�� Those
might simply have been the ones we were �lucky� enough to run into,� Draco
pointed out, with such a bitter smile twisting his mouth that Harry knew he
considered neither of them to have been lucky. �But yes, studying with Portillo
Lopez is a good idea.�

�� He turned a
warm, gentle smile on Harry that made Harry feel proud of himself, in a way
that no one else managed to make him. He knew only one way to deal with the
melting sensation in his knees, or return as good a gift to Draco. He leaned
forwards and kissed him.

�� Draco
caught his breath and then shut his eyes, reaching up as though he wanted to
caress Harry�s cheekbones. They were, of course, leaning across too much space
between their chairs for that to happen comfortably, and they ended up tumbling
to the floor of the tent. Harry laughed while Draco looked put out, but Harry
quickly dragged him into a more comfortable snog, and then into bed, and that
was the end of all scowls for the evening.

*

�� Yes. That
ought to work.�

�� There was a
strain in Granger�s voice that Draco understood. As far as he could tell, she
had invented an amazingly convincing glamour as well as a way to make it
permanent and a way to make it seem guarded�but not in a way that Nihil�s
tricks couldn�t get past�all in the same evening.

�� He walked
around the platform set up near the edge of the training camp. That was all it
was, in reality, a simple white platform, though it appeared to be hedged around with gleaming traps of metal and wards
that shone like the sun whenever anyone passed near them, crackling angrily.
Since Draco had been in this place when Granger began casting the illusion, he
could see the platform that was the base of it all, but barely. The glamours
were thick and convincing, layered and blazing. The book in the middle, though
entirely false, looked like exactly the sort of leather-bound grimoire that most
wizards would be tempted by. The binding shone with silky temptation. Draco
could feel his fingers itching to pick it up even though he had watched Granger
build it bit by bit.

�� Done,�
Granger said, and stepped away from the wards, staggering. Draco caught her. In
an instant she was on her feet again, brushing the dust off her cloak and
glaring at him. Draco smirked back. He had wanted to make sure that she didn�t
go crashing to the ground, yes, but he had also known that his assistance would
hardly be welcome, which made her straighten up so that he didn�t have to watch
her weakness. �What are we going to do?�

�� We�ll have
two of the comitatus or our allies on guard with their weapons at all times,�
Draco said calmly. �They�ll know to use them the moment Nemo appears. And we�ve
warned them that he�s capable of wearing many disguises and bodies, so the only
thing that would keep them from using the weapons is if it�s obviously the living
dead or Nihil himself,� he added, as Granger opened her mouth.

�� I wasn�t
going to ask that, actually,� Granger said, and it was her turn to smirk a bit.
Draco knew that his face must have been disconcerted, and tried to smooth the
expression away. �I was going to ask how you would manage to have two of us on
guard at all times. We�re sure to be missed.�

�� When you
have Auror instructors on your side, it�s amazing how much can be
accomplished,� Draco murmured. �Weston, Lowell, Ketchum, Gregory, and Jones
have agreed to cover for us and use illusions of us being in class, if not
performing all that well, so that we can have our turns on guard. Their time,
of course, is their own, and if they say that they have something more
important to do than be where they�re expected to be, I don�t think Robards and
Holder can force them to do otherwise. And then there�s Portillo Lopez and
Raverat, who aren�t teaching right now but working in other capacities. They�ll
provide an extra baffle for prying eyes.�

�� Granger
nodded a moment later, expression neutral. �I reckon that�s the best that can
be accomplished,� she said, with one more dubious glance at her trap.

�� Dissatisfied?�
Draco asked coolly, though he had already noticed that she always was. Granger
had brilliant ideas, good research skills, and a commitment to her friends that
was truly breathtaking, but she still always acted as though she could have
done better, could have anticipated some trick that Nihil would pull, or
outwitted someone superior to her.

�� I think
it�s ridiculous that we can�t trust the Aurors, that we have to engage in
conspiracies,� Granger said, turning back to the camp. Draco walked with her,
watching her cloak flap in the wind. �I know we have to, that we can�t just go
to Holder and Robards and demand that they trust us. But it bothers me. We
shouldn�t be so divided against ourselves.�

�� The adults
refuse to trust the youngsters, the youngsters think they know better, and the
oblivious mistake themselves for the intelligent,� Draco murmured dryly. �So it
has ever been.�

�� That
sounds like a quote,� Granger said, turning her head and eyeing him as though
it was illegal for anyone to know something she didn�t. �What is it from?�

�� I couldn�t
have made it up?� Draco widened his eyes.

�� Not
something that sounds like that.�

�� Draco put
aside to be examined later the notion that Granger apparently did think him smart enough to come up
with some kind of pretentious words, if not that kind. It might be intriguing
to hear what she thought he would say. �It�s a translation of a remark that
Suetonius Malfoy made centuries ago,� he admitted. �My father�s translation,
from Latin. I use it whenever I start thinking that the present is much worse
than the past. They thought that
their own times were much worse than their past. The Greeks and the Babylonians
probably thought the same thing.�

�� They did,�
Granger said, and her face came alive. �I remember reading something about it.
There was a lament written on cuneiform tablets��

�� Draco
listened tolerantly as she spiraled off into Muggle history. At least she
sometimes said something interesting. He thought that he could work with her,
appreciate her, now. And of course that wasn�t a problem to be overcome with
Ventus or Harry.

�� He still
wasn�t sure what to do about Weasley or Herricks, mind you. But then, not even
the most brilliant general�s mind could solve all the problems of military
strategy at once.

*

�� I don�t
understand,� Harry said.

�� You never
do.�

�� Harry
rolled his eyes, but secretly he was pleased that he had managed, finally, to
rattle Portillo Lopez�s composure. She glared fiercely at him and then smoothed
away the drawing she�d been making in the dirt in front of him with a flick of
her wand. Harry wondered why she couldn�t use parchment like anyone else, but
the moment the snow had melted, Portillo Lopez had started making maps,
diagrams, and any other images that explained what Harry needed to know in the
soil instead.

��

�� Think of
our world, the world of life that we know, lying atop the world of death like a
plate on top of another plate,� Portillo Lopez said. She was sketching a pair
of ovals, which Harry thought privately didn�t look like any plate he had ever
seen. �There are interconnections between them, but there are also thick
places, places that no one can get through unless something unusual happens.
Necromancers calling through the dimensions, for example, or someone opening a
gate like the one your partner managed to open.�

�� That�s not
the way you explained it last time,� Harry said, just to be difficult.

�� This is
less complicated.� Again Portillo Lopez dug the tip of her wand down, and
sliced it sideways. The line cut the ovals in two. �But now another kind of
connection has been opened between them. That is what I think happened. Rather
than a simple imbalance, which can refer to all sorts of changes, what has
happened is an opening, a flow, between the worlds. Nihil has brought through
too many living dead. He is too immortal. He has reached into death too many
times to escape, to transform, to reach a source of infection for his grief
magic or his other magic�and perhaps to resurrect these beasts that we spoke
about the other day.� It amused Harry that Portillo Lopez still checked over
her shoulder before she said the words. She was more cautious of their privacy
than either he or Draco were, most of the time. �We must close that gate. Or,
if not so simple as that, if it is a new connection, we must plug it. Fill it in with something
else.�

�� You think
you can do that based on principles that your Order has researched,� Harry said
dubiously. He understood the concept she was talking about a bit better now,
but not her confidence that she could succeed.

�� Yes.�
Portillo Lopez gave him a small, challenging smile. �We would not have been
able to construct weapons that work against the living dead if we did not
understand the principles of life. We can move further than that now that we
have those, like you, who understand Nihil better than we do. We can create a�a
form of insulation for the connection
between life and death.�

�� And how
long will that take?� Harry asked.

�� I do not
know.�

�� Harry bit
his lip and studied the drawing in the dirt again. �And is there any way that I
can help?� He assumed there was, or else Portillo Lopez wouldn�t have been
explaining this to him; she would have already been consulting with her Order.
But she hadn�t yet said what that was.

�� I believe
we may draw some of the raw material we need from your connection with him,� Portillo
Lopez said. �Especially now that you have been stupid enough�� her voice flicked like a whip, and Harry jumped
��to read his memories.�

�� I read the
memories of the ball of nothingness,� Harry began again, because this seemed to
be something that Portillo Lopez, the brilliant witch who regularly made him
feel stupid, couldn�t understand.

�� I know
that,� Portillo Lopez said, though with a frown that seemed to indicate she
preferred to forget it when convenient. �But they were still his memories. His
activities. The presence of a mind that was inhuman and that nearly destroyed
you when you encountered it before.� She leaned across and rested her fingers
against Harry�s temple, staring into his eyes. �Some members of my Order are
quite skilled with working with the minds of necromancers. I will bring one to
meet you.�

�� Harry
grimaced. �I�m not sure I want more new people to know about this. And didn�t
you say that you couldn�t tell anyone else in the Order about me, because they
wouldn�t understand you supporting and succoring a necromancer?�

�� Portillo
Lopez shook her head. �You are not a necromancer. The tests I did on the nature
of your magic, and the fact that you can call illusions to attack rather than
the dead, are proof enough. Besides, you have already met this man, and I would
not have brought him to meet you in the first place if I did not think he would
be sympathetic.�

�� Who��
Harry began, and stopped. �Raverat.�

�� Portillo
Lopez nodded. �He is a Seer, the same way that I am a Battle Healer. That is
not a pretense. But he is in my Order.� She gave Harry a sharp look. �I trust
that you will not spread the news around.�

�� At least
she hadn�t forbidden him to tell anyone at all, Harry thought. Of course, by
now she probably realized that it was useless telling him to keep such
information from Draco. �I won�t,� he said.

�� Very
well,� Portillo Lopez said. �He is busy with his own duties right now, but he
will come and meet you in a few days.� She turned her back and began to write
in a book. �For now, go away. Attend to your classes, and to your duties
maintaining the guard over the trap that we have set.�

�� Harry
nodded, and left. For some reason, Portillo Lopez seemed convinced that he and
Draco would be the ones to catch Nemo. As long as she continued to take her
turn at the guarding, though, Harry thought he could live with the conviction.

*

�� He�s a
member of this Order, too?� Draco frowned, and then blew out his breath to
watch the cloud that it made. They had enough wards around them, courtesy of
Granger, Weston, and Lowell, that he wasn�t worried about the cloud alerting
anyone who might examine the trap that they were there. �I wonder how many
people have allegiances that we don�t know about.�

�� Lots of
them,� Harry said in a sleepy tone. Draco nudged him with a shoulder to keep
him awake. Harry sat up and cleared his throat, which apparently was supposed
to convince Draco that he had never yawned in his life and never intended to.
�I mean, we have allegiances to the comitatus that most of the camp doesn�t
know about, and I don�t think most of the Aurors we�re working with realize how
deep they run.�

�� Draco
shrugged with one shoulder and decided that he wouldn�t try to explain the, to
him, obvious difference between keeping a few secrets about who one�s friends
were and how well one could fight and secret oaths to a whole secret Order.
�Have you been practicing with that focus trick that Weston and Lowell taught
us?� he asked instead.

�� Harry
sighed. �I�m not good at it,� he
said.

�That�s why you practice,� Draco
said, rolling his eyes and wondering if he should be grateful that Harry
couldn�t see him. �To get better.�

Harry sighed again. �You�re better
at it than I am,� he said. �You show me how it�s done, and then maybe I�ll know
how to do it next time.�

�� Draco
raised his wand, lit it enough so that Harry could make out his face and hands,
and then closed his eyes and laid the wand on the ground. He had found that
holding it distracted him. As Weston and Lowell kept saying, the purpose of
this tactic was to sense the direction and condition of his partner�s magic,
not the condition of his wand. And it actually made matters worse that Harry
had used Draco�s wand for a time; he was all the more likely to respond to the
hawthorn wood, which could be taken away, rather than the power that thrummed
through Draco and couldn�t.

�� The first
version of the trick that Weston had mentioned seemed to work for Draco and not
for Harry, which was probably one thing discouraging Harry, although Draco thought
it just meant he had to find a different one. He pictured a crystal in his
mind, a six-sided crystal with gleaming sides through which separate flecks of
light darted. The flecks of light moved faster and faster as he thought about
it, and then began to whirl in coordinated patterns. Draco reached out lightly
and imagined that there was another crystal a short distance from him, while at
the same trying not to imagine that
it lay in Harry�s direction.

�� This trick
was supposed to let them find each other even behind muffling wards and other
means that Nihil could raise to baffle their bond. Draco thought it useful and
impressive, especially in its effects, and hoped that Harry would give up on
the pretense that he couldn�t make it work well enough to be worthwhile soon.

�� The crystal
in his mind suddenly rang as though someone had sung a high note at it, and
Draco felt a tremble traveling through the points of the crystal and leading
away from him in the direction of that imaginary second one. He raised a hand
and curved it, and imagined the crystal falling into his palm, followed by the
second one.

�� He actually
felt a brief weight pressing against his fingers, smooth and slick in the way
that the crystal would have been, and shook with wonder. That he could call
something from his mind into the physical world, without the aid of his wand or
glamours, was a source of delight to him, and, he thought, would be for a long
time.

�� He took a
deep breath�this part of the magic was still sometimes disorienting for him�and
then opened his eyes.

�� He could
see through Harry�s eyes. He looked down, moving his perception of Harry�s eyes
rather than the physical ones, and saw the folded hands on his knees, the
loosely separated, lithe legs, and the holly wand clutched in one hand. He
raised them and saw the lines of the wards around them, the gleam of Granger�s
illusion and the dim shapes of the hills beyond. He smiled, and felt his own
lips stretch, on another face.

�� It was
splendid, and difficult. He had to let it go soon and fall back into his own
mind, opening his eyes with a little whoosh of breath.

�� Master
that, and they can never hide you from me,� he told Harry. �I�ll look through
your eyes into every place they take you, and if we go a step beyond and master
that next trick Weston mentioned, then we�ll be able to speak in our minds from
a distance, too, undetectably. Don�t you think this is worth striving for?�

�� Harry�s
eyes were shadowed. He shrugged and looked away. �It just seems to me that I
can�t envision a crystal like that,� he muttered. �Every time I try, I lose
track of the way all the lights are supposed to be moving. I lose track of the
individual flecks.�

�� You don�t
have to imagine every single gleam of light as being the same,� Draco said patiently,
the way he had said before. �I don�t. Just keep enough of them in mind that you
can be sure that the other person�s image�mine, in this case�would be roughly
the same.�

�� I don�t
know your mind that well,� Harry muttered, and flicked a spot of dirt off his
robes.

�� Draco
suppressed the temptation to yell and reached out with his hands. �Then touch
me, for a short time, and think about that second image they told us to use,�
he murmured. �A wheel of flowers and light, rather than crystal. You said it
was easier.�

�� A wheel
made of flowers and light?� Harry objected, although he didn�t hesitate to take
Draco�s hands. His fingers were cold. �What does that look like?�

�� Draco gave
him a stern look, and then began to breathe more deeply. �Think about roses,�
he murmured. �A wheel of roses, with roses for spokes and one huge white rose
in the center for the axle, and light bouncing and shimmering off it��

�� Harry
closed his eyes. And if they didn�t catch Nemo that night�the glamours Granger
had woven would have informed them if he approached�then at least, by the time
that they left their shelter later to give place to Portillo Lopez and Raverat,
Harry could envision the wheel, and was even doing better with the crystal.

�� And Draco
had thought he felt, now and again, a tremble in his mind as it strained in the
direction of Harry.

*

�� qwerty:
Thank you!

�� SP777:
Well, they�re at least going forwards with more speed this time, since the end
of the story is nearer!

�� Because I�m
cruel? And also slightly predictable?

�� thrnbrooke:
Remember that Hermione only has the vague impression that this is a machine.
She might not be right.

�� Shadow
Lily: Thanks! This group does have more of a plan than the Fellowship did, and
Dearborn isn�t part of it, which will help.

�� Dragons
Breath: Probably no prophecies forthcoming.

�� And yes,
Draco is gaining respect for Hermione, as you can see here.

�� polka dot: This
time, no Dearborn, which will make a difference, and more of a clear and
present danger.
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Seasons of War