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The Same Species As Shakespeare	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16108 -:- 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.

Chapter List
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Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Two�Fair Is
Foul, and Foul Is Fair

�� Harry
paused for a moment after Apparating, and stepped deliberately backwards so
that he could enjoy the full effect of the Palliser House. He bumped into
someone as he did so, but he hardly cared. Probably, that person would take one
look at his face and back off with a handsome apology. There were advantages to
being Harry Potter, and Harry had learned to accept some of them.

�� Besides,
the photograph he�d seen in the Prophet
simply didn�t do the house justice.

�� The front
was a large fa�ade with pillars, of course; there were some things that the new
owners of manor houses seemed unwilling to give up, and the imitation of
classical or Muggle styles was one of them. But on either side of the fa�ade,
Malfoy had added long shining sweeps of stone, undulating up and down like
waves, with a silvery edge to them. Harry supposed they might actually be inlaid with silver. Tudor Palliser could
certainly afford it.

�� The doors
were divided into three, instead of two, and folded or swooped instead of
simply swinging open or shut. Harry had to grin when two guests, arriving late
enough behind the last ones that they hadn�t seen how the doors worked, leaped
aside with startled shouts as they lifted majestically out of the way.

�� The upper
floors of the house also swept and flowed instead of looming. Harry wondered
for a moment why Palliser had wanted that�he had sounded, from his interview in
the Prophet, the sort who would favor
a house to impress and overwhelm�but then decided it must have been Malfoy�s
design. And Malfoy had a reputation of persuading his clients to follow his
suggestions, even if they�d marched into his office with something quite
different in mind. Harry had seen his share of people leaving that office with
puzzled frowns and consulting the plans in their hands as if they had materialized
from nowhere.

�� Ron would
say that his hanging about outside Malfoy�s office indicated problems. Harry was willing to believe
that it did. So long as he didn�t actually intrude into Malfoy�s life, though,
or attempt to claim his attention, he didn�t think the problem was serious. He
knew he hadn�t a chance. He�d resigned himself to admiration instead of
despair, that was all.

�� On the
other hand, Malfoy had sent him an invitation for tonight. And if that didn�t
indicate he might be allowed to hope, what did?

�� Harry took
a deep breath and shook himself. Hanging about in the path to the house like a
lovesick schoolgirl would accomplish nothing. And at least if he entered and
Malfoy mocked or ignored him, he could get rid of the niggling hope that was
making it uncomfortable to breathe at the moment.

�� Always face it head-on, he thought, as
he followed a long witch in a ridiculous veil and train into the house. That�s for the best, and it gets the pain,
if there�s to be pain, over quickly.

*

�� Draco was
chatting to several of Palliser�s more amiable and stupid guests in the great
hall of the house when Potter entered the room.

�� He always
knew when Potter was near, always. It
was nothing like a mystical connection between souls, as the romances Pansy
read would have implied. It wasn�t even that he listened constantly for Potter�s
voice or the sound of his step. (He couldn�t have heard such things immediately
through the enormous crush of people Palliser had invited, anyway). What he recognized
was at once more common and more subtle than that: the way that people stirred
when Potter approached, the way they reacted to the �real, living hero��as many
people of Draco�s acquaintance were fond of repeating, never noticing the
redundancy�among them.

�� First came
the abstracted eyes, though many of the people involved might continue their
conversations, especially in a crowd like this, where as many came to be
noticed as to notice. Then came a slight wave of turning heads, often caught
before it could cause many ripples. And third was a murmur unlike any other in
existence. Envy compounded it, and the inevitable cynical sneer that Potter
could not be everything the papers
represented him as, never mind his spectacular destruction of Voldemort. But there
was also enough awe and belief to leaven the lesser emotions in spite of
themselves.

�� Draco hated
having such thoughts. He hated noticing such things. He hated them with a
passionate loathing that made him want to rip out eyes and force the idiots
involved to choke on their own romance. But he would never allow such emotions
to show in public.

�� And this
time, he was the one who had caused them, because he had invited Potter, which
Palliser wouldn�t have dared to do, or couldn�t have pulled off successfully even
if he did. That gave him a feeling of control that soothed his disgust.

�� Draco
turned, the crowd drawing apart between him and Potter as he called out the
hero�s name, calmly, confidently. The imbecile stepped forwards, and those
green eyes met Draco�s with a combination of wonder and wariness that poured
soothing water over the soul-burns Draco had taken from him long ago.

�� I fascinate him. Draco gave his
brightest smile, and Potter�s face shone with a tentative one in return. As the treasure fascinates the pirate, as
the criminal fascinates the Auror.

�� Still, as
Potter put out his hand and Draco gracefully took it, there was another
metaphor in his head, one he hoped to make true as soon as possible.

�� As the snake fascinates the bird.

*

�� Lucius Malfoy
put down his wineglass rather forcefully on one of Palliser�s delicate
end-tables. The witch standing nearby gave him a pointed look and shifted away.
Lucius murmured an apology without taking his eyes from the scene playing out
before him.

�� Draco, you are a fool.

�� Lucius
stepped back, drifting towards the wall. No one took any particular notice. He
wore a glamour that shielded his features and made them resemble some cast-off
Black�s; in fact, Draco had suggested he adopt the face from one of the
portraits of her �beloved relatives� Narcissa had brought along to the Manor
when he married her.

�� Narcissa, sighed that second voice he
seemed to carry around with him now, the whisper like the brush of a silken
handkerchief.

�� Lucius
ignored it and continued moving gently away from the chattering and clucking
flock until he had a good view of his son. Draco had particularly insisted he
attend the party, though in disguise to appease Palliser�s sensibilities. Lucius
was sure now that he had been intended to witness this meeting.

�� And now the only question is why.

�� Potter
spoke with open friendliness in his face, and held out his hand to Draco first.
Lucius frowned. His son would note the movement; he was less likely to see the
friendliness. Lucius had long since realized that Draco could hardly control
himself when Potter was mentioned, though about all other things he might be as
cool as the stone Lucius was leaning against.

�� He has a weakness for our widely beloved hero,
and if I understood why, then I think I would possess the key to the gates of
my son�s soul.

�� Draco had a
faint smile on his face as he let Potter clasp and press his hand. To someone
who had known him from birth, that was not an effective mask. His mouth had a tightness
it should not have possessed at a casual meeting, and he leaned slightly
forwards, as if he wanted to emphasize his greater height to Potter. Such an effective
tool of intimidation should never be displayed too openly, but after this
length of time, Lucius doubted Draco would listen to him no matter how gently
he tried to hint that. Draco was convinced that Lucius�s mistakes during the
wars and during the years between, in the Dark Lord�s service before he
officially announced his second rise, had disqualified him to offer advice.

�� And now,
when Lucius spent much of his time in his study among his deceased wife�s
diaries and other effects, Draco was tempted to conceive of him as separated
from the flow of important events altogether.

�� Yet he wants me here to observe this change
in his life, as he doubtless hopes to make it.

�� Lucius bit
the corner of his cheek sharply. He would not have worried so about his son if
Draco had had more self-knowledge. That had been the second war�s gift to
Lucius. He saw his faults, his failures, his limitations in so clear a light it
made him wince. The time he spent trying to learn his dead wife�s mind was part
of an effort to correct them.

�� But Draco
saw only his own strengths, and thought acknowledging a weakness was tantamount
to falling prey to it.

�� Lucius
settled his back firmly against the wall. He was observing, yes, and at the
moment he did not know which gesture would make the situation better and which
would send it spiraling towards the floor of the abyss. He would retain his
silence and his place for now. That was all anyone could ask of him.

*

�� Malfoy was
handsomer in person than his photographs, or close encounters with the man
imitating him, had led Harry to expect. He shone like the stone outside, pale
hair tied with a silvery ribbon and drawn back from his face to lend the best
emphasis to the clean cheekbones and long jawline. Harry stifled laughter as he
realized how very well Draco Malfoy and Palliser House suited each other; it
was a showcase for its architect, not its owner. Would Tudor Palliser ever
realize that?

�� And will you ever realize that you�re
running into danger?

�� Harry
started. He always did when Hermione spoke to him from a distance like that.

�� Is
something wrong?� Harry thought he was probably imagining the concern in Malfoy�s
tone, but even imagination had the power to make his heart beat faster.

�� Only that
I remembered a report left undone,� Harry lied smoothly. No, he would never be
as suave or controlled as Malfoy, but he had years of practice lying about
reports to Kingsley�though usually about how advanced they were, not the other
way around. �Thank you for inviting me here.�

�� Malfoy
smiled, and that changed his face in ways Harry had thought impossible;
specifically, it brought warmth into those harsh and critical gray eyes. �You
are the one who chose to favor me with your presence. I�m sure you must have
more calls on your time than I do.�

�� I don�t
know,� Harry managed to say, whilst his heartbeat increased and his eyes
searched Malfoy�s face again for a meaning he didn�t expect to find. He said me, not us.

�� That is not significant, snapped
Hermione�s voice in his head. Honestly,
Harry. Think about what self-interested motive is behind his invitation. That�s
where you�ll find the trap lurking.

�� Harry
desperately wished he could rip the copper ring he was wearing from his finger
and hurl it across the room. At one point, Hermione�s telepathic charm, which
allowed her to speak to Harry and Ron across immense distances and read their
more intense thoughts, had seemed like a wonderful idea. It would allow her to
keep track of them when they ran into dangerous situations as Aurors and let
them ask her questions they needed answers to. But she was even more suspicious
of Malfoy than Ron was, which took some doing, and she was showing it in a highly inconvenient way.

�� I might be
famous now,� Malfoy said, with a little laugh, �but I still don�t have the
cachet of the Savior of the Wizarding World.� Spoken in his voice, the
familiar, hated title sounded bearable. He picked up Harry�s hand and tilted
the finger with Hermione�s charm on it to the light. �That�s a handsome ring.�

�� Harry
laughed, conscious that he was laughing too loudly and that his face had
flushed in a way that made his attempt at normality a lie. And he could know
that without Hermione speaking a
warning in his head, thanks. �That? It�s not so handsome. No gold, no silver.�
He nodded towards the room around them. �Nothing like the color scheme you�ve
used here.� And then he felt like an idiot, because there was more silver on
the outside of the house.

�� But Malfoy�s
smile was slow and pleased, as though no one who came up to him that evening
had taken the time to make many specific comments. �Precious metals aren�t
everything,� he said, and now his fingers were actually toying with Harry�s
ring as if he would tug it off his finger. Yes,
please, Harry thought, head filled with feverish imaginings of what would
follow that. �I�ve always been fond of copper. It�s useful, in situations where silver and gold aren�t. Practical. One
often needs more practicality to balance a surfeit of beauty.� He raised his
eyebrows suddenly and looked down at the ring. �And it seems this little
ornament you think isn�t handsome has a rather powerful charm on it.�

�� He can sense the magic? Hermione
exclaimed, her voice fainter since the ring was hovering over Harry�s
fingernail now.

�� Of course he can sense the magic, Harry
snapped back. He�s studied everything
from Arithmancy to aura observation in order to make his houses more magical.

�� Hermione�s
voice sank and became quieter and fiercer, which was a good trick for something
entirely silent in the first place. I don�t
like this, Harry. He invited you too suddenly; he�s taking too violent an
interest in you. Get out of there.

�� Harry
ignored her. He was confident he could handle himself around Malfoy, who had
let the ring slide back onto Harry�s finger and was patiently waiting for an
answer to his implied question, giving him a bright glance. His hands lingered,
brushing Harry�s wrist and knuckles, and now and then his eyes darted down as
if he were fascinated but didn�t want Harry to think he was.

�� The charm
allows me to keep in contact with my friends,� Harry said. �It came in useful
during the war, and it�s not bad now that I�m an Auror.�

�� Harry!

�� This charm is enough like other
communication spells that he would have known I was lying if I pretended it was
anything else.

�� Hermione
went on to say other things, mostly about how irrational he became around Malfoy,
but Harry ignored them as well. He�d dreamed and watched from afar for years,
and now he was close to Malfoy, close
enough to see the tiny flecks of blue buried in the depths of his gray eyes.
Everyone who said that Malfoy looked exactly like his father was wrong. Harry,
at least, would have known them apart by their breathing in a dark room.

�� This was
one evening out of a life that had known trouble and danger, but far too little
fun. He could afford it.

*

�� Draco could
feel his blood singing.

�� He had
waited so long for this. He had watched Potter and known what he ate and read
the newspapers and paid others to tell anecdotes about him�which they were
often happy to do, knowing that their meetings with the Famous Harry Potter were
as close as most of them would ever come to royalty�but it was another thing
entirely to have Potter�s skin under his, ripe for the tearing or the taking as
he pleased.

�� No one else
in the room could possibly be equal in power to him at the moment. His hands
trembled, and Potter stared at them, then looked back up at Draco with a faint smile
of surprise. Let him. Let him think anything he wanted, so long as he didn�t
laugh, and didn�t mock, and didn�t draw away.

�� A useful
charm, then,� said Draco, and bent close as if considering the ring. It did
intrigue him. The real purpose, though, was not to admire the braided copper
that made up the dull piece of jewelry, but to let his breath travel over
Potter�s skin. He shivered, like any other man, but he didn�t act offended, as
someone who thought of Draco as repulsive would. He took a subtle step closer,
in fact.

�� Draco felt
dizzy. Of course, this was all a calculated effect. Potter should admire. He should be
hopelessly in love with Draco by the end of the evening, and he would be if
Draco could manage it. It was the least he could do to repay all the time Draco
had lavished on him in the last few years.

�� And really,
the debt was even bigger than the simple investment of time. Other people in
wizarding Britain had to think of Magnificent Harry Potter, because he loomed
so large compared to their petty lives. But Draco had wealth and fame and a
career he enjoyed and that demanded a great deal of intellectual effort from
him. He was no mindless worshipper, but a delicate and difficult convert. If
Potter didn�t appreciate that, he was a fool.

�� You�re
speaking as if it were useful to you.� Potter�s voice was high, and he seemed
to realize it. He cleared his throat. �Why�s that?�

�� Why,�
Draco said, letting his eyebrows climb to his forehead, �we wouldn�t want
Britain�s most esteemed Auror, the one who keeps us safe from the monsters
under our beds, to die, would we?�

�� And he let
his lips brush the back of Potter�s hand.

�� Potter didn�t
stare at him, enchanted. Instead, he grabbed Draco�s shoulders and threw him to
the floor. The air ripped apart with the sound of screams, and Potter snapped
his wrist down in a sharp motion that slid his wand out of his sleeve and into
his palm. He looked down at Draco, probably forcing himself to ignore the way
he straddled Draco�s hips.

�� So sorry
to interrupt you,� he said, �but that criminal who looks like you is here and
about to cause trouble.�

�� And he rose
in moments and launched himself into the crowd like a terrier after a rat�which,
Draco thought in rage and confusion at the way Potter�s departure seemed to
take the breath out of his lungs, was all the dignity he deserved.

*

�� Lucius had
been aware of the young wizard standing in the shadow of a pillar for some
time. He had stared at Draco, but Lucius found it easy to accept the idea that
he was merely paying his son the tribute he deserved (or at least that the echo
of Narcissa�s features in his deserved). It wasn�t until he stepped out into
the middle of Palliser�s party that Lucius�s attention became riveted. The
young man was nearly a perfect copy of his son, and he did not wear glamours.
Instead, his body hummed with the glow of powerful magic almost perfectly
settled into place. He had used spells to acquire blond hair, gray eyes, and
pointed features, and except for the wand he aimed at Draco and Potter and the
lack of fluidity in his motions, Lucius might have been taken in himself.

�� Lucius
started to take a step forwards, though his limbs seemed weighted with water
and he knew he would never reach the man in time.

�� That didn�t
matter, as it turned out, because Potter had twisted Draco to the ground and
flung himself on top of his body. The spell the impostor launched started the
back of Potter�s cloak burning, but he didn�t seem to care. Instead, he sat up,
said something to Draco that made his face turn red, and then flew into the
crowd.

�� The man who
thought he could imitate a Malfoy had already made some progress towards the
door by judicious use of his elbows. When people didn�t get out of the way quickly
enough for him, he lifted his wand and cast a crackling, buzzing yellow curse
directly at one of the ornamental pillars.

�� The pillar
groaned, cracked down the middle, and shattered into shining chunks that
dropped rattling into the spectators, who only now began to move. Potter
dropped to the ground, rolling in a motion that simultaneously put out the fire
on his cloak and brought his wand into the proper position.

�� Sustineo,� he said, in the voice of a
man who pronounced such spells every day.

�� The air
around him turned glassy and hardened, then flew up and away from him. In
moments, it had split, and a series of small transparent pillars had grown up
over the crowd, interposing themselves between the attending wizards and the
falling pieces of stone. When they were hit, they quivered, bent back and forth
until the threatening shards had settled to the floor, and then vanished like
the air they were made of.

�� For a moment,
Lucius diverted himself wondering how Potter had known that he didn�t have to
waste time or magical strength supporting the ceiling. Then Potter stood, wiped
ashes and dust from his clothing and his hair, and turned to locate Palliser in
the midst of the crowd.

�� I�m sorry,
sir,� he said. �I couldn�t prevent the interruption to your party, but I do
hope that you�ll excuse it, since I also prevented further damage to your
house.� He gave a quick smile and strode out the doors.

�� Lucius
could hear the buzzing moving through the crowd, and knew that another episode
in the Potter legend was being born, one that would attribute half a hundred
sayings more witty and gracious to him by the morning, and add half a dozen
other more dramatic spells. From the expression on Draco�s face, he knew it,
too, but he was the one who had chosen to take it as a personal insult.

�� Lucius
drifted back to the table that held his wineglass, picked it up, and sipped
thoughtfully. This was the first time the impostor had attacked Draco directly.
And that led to the question of what he might want, if not to besmirch Draco�s
reputation. No one could doubt that Draco was an innocent victim if he was seen
in the same place as his double.

�� And that touched Malfoy honor, and perhaps Draco�s
safety as well. Lucius was still a father if he was no longer a husband. He
would protect his son to the best of his ability, though Draco was now the beloved
fool.

*

�� Harry made
a point of walking out onto the path that led to the house and checking for the
assailant, though he had heard the crack of Apparition and knew it was
pointless. The pillar had been a distraction�a deadly one. Harry chewed his lip
thoughtfully. This was the first time their criminal had shown he was directly willing
to take life, though some of his other crimes could have resulted in death if they
had gone further.

�� And he
wanted Malfoy dead.

�� Frowning,
already composing his report to Kingsley in his head, Harry stepped back into
the house. He was reluctant to leave Malfoy, but he suspected he had already
ruined whatever chance he had by bolting after the attacker instead of staying
to shelter him, as Malfoy would no doubt have prissily demanded. Harry grinned,
imagining that conversation.

�� He came to
the place where he had left Malfoy, and was startled to see the man still
sitting on the floor, his head bent and his arms wrapped around his torso.
Harry�s first, awful thought was that he had pushed him too hard and he�d
broken his ribs or his tailbone.

�� Your concern for him is touching, Hermione
said, voice full of light acid, but don�t
you think you should leave him to the Healers even if so, and go report to
Kingsley?

�� Harry
slipped the copper ring off his finger and into his pocket. He would receive
enough of a scolding when he returned to Grimmauld Place. Just now, he wanted
to concentrate on the man in the room he most respected. He had looked up at
Harry�s approach, and the people hovering around him had also drawn back; Harry
could see that his face was pale and his forehead covered with a sheen of sweat.

�� Are you
all right?� Harry asked.

�� I�I think��
Malfoy took a deep, gasping breath and then, quietly and with dignity, fainted.

�� Kneeling down
next to him, Harry saw blue bruises beginning to appear on his throat, like the
marks of strangling fingers.

�� He reacted
without thinking, snatching Malfoy up and racing towards the doors. Someone followed
him, of course, but Harry�s attention was for the gravel in front of him, and
the Apparition point. In seconds, darkness squeezed them both, bearing them
away to St. Mungo�s.

*

�� Despite the
uncomfortable jouncing motion of Potter�s arms and the intense concentration
using wandless magic to cause the bruises on his throat took, Draco smiled.

*

�� Lullaby to
Rita: Thank you! Draco is even more obsessive than he realizes.

�� LexieMalfoy:
Here is more!

�� paigeey07:
Thank you! I think it�s rather twisted, but it could be seen as beautiful, too.

�� Thrnbrooke:
I don�t think Harry would be ready to call what he feels love, though he�s
clearer that his feelings are tending in that direction.

�� Jilliane:
Thank you! There will be more details as this goes on; Draco is the sort of
person to notice them, even if Harry isn�t. And I�ve added you to the update
list.

�� avihenda: Thank
you! And this is a multi-chapter, the new WiP.

�� Mangacat:
Thanks! I would imagine Draco cackling insanely, too, but he doesn�t think he�s
insane at all. And his room is meant to be creepy, creepy, and then more
creepy.

�� FallenAngel1129:
Well, maybe you do, but Ron and Hermione sure don�t. ;)

�� gentlenightrain:
Draco would be so offended if you suggested that. He can let this go at any
time. He thinks.

��
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The Same Species As Shakespeare