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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
- 19
- 20
- 21
Thank you again for all the reviews! And here�s hoping I can
get back into this story after the week-long hiatus.

Chapter Twenty�Do Not,
For One Repulse, Forego The Purpose

�� Draco ate
breakfast quietly the next morning, his eyes fastened on the window as if he
were too far above the house-elves and Lucius even to notice them. Lucius made
a show of eating his own breakfast, but in reality his gaze spent more time on
his son than on his plate. His throat closed and burned when he tried to speak,
however.

�� And he did
not think that the result of some spell Draco had cast.

�� I wish I could know what he was thinking,
without asking. The question would betray my interest, and then Draco is more
likely to shut his heart and his face against me than ever. He would shut his expression
even now, did he know how much his lack of emotion betrays.

�� Not that
Lucius knew much more than that Draco was disturbed. And if he did not know
more than that, how was he supposed to protect his son? But how was he supposed
to learn more than that?

�� He leaned back
in his chair, holding a cup of tea, and blew gently across the surface of the
liquid whilst closing his eyes. The chances that Draco would suddenly look at
him were small, but if it happened, Lucius despised the notion of betraying his
own agitation.

�� I must choose a tactic with which to
approach him. When I am out of sorts and floundering about in my head, fearful
to do anything for fear of betraying myself, then I do worse than alienating
him.

�� Lucius
finished his tea and leaned forwards. Sometimes, as the moment shaped itself,
the right strategy would come to him. Draco�s gaze darted in his direction, and
Lucius saw him deliberately swallow the last bite of his eggs before he laid
aside his cutlery. Of course the elves appeared at once to whisk the setting
away. Narcissa had trained them to a nicety in the observation of such things
before she�finished, using methods perfected on the
Black house-elves.

�� Yes,
Father?� Draco asked when the obligatory moment of respectful silence had crept
past. His voice chimed, his eyes shimmered like crystal, and his face continued
to convey nothing at all.

�� I wish to
understand,� Lucius said, and did not know he would speak the words until he
had spoken them. They poured through his lips like pus from a lanced boil. �Why
did you go to the papers about Potter? I can understand your being offended
that he chose to pursue a sexual relationship with you when he was needed to
serve as a bodyguard; I can even understand your being angry that he was not as
good a fuck as you had spent years envisioning. But to take this sort of petty
revenge�to rip your own heart out of your breast�� He
paused and then shook his head, rapidly, several times, as much in wonder at
himself as at Draco�s stupidity. �I thought I had taught you better than to bare
such a wound, at least. But you wrote that article in the blood of it.�

�� Apparently, my tactic is to be honesty, he
thought, when he finished speaking. Very well, then. One
lesson he had tried to learn in the years since Narcissa�s death, impossible
though it had proven to learn when considering her in particular, was not to
regret the unchangeable. He touched the table, and an elf appeared with a fresh
cup of tea in the time it took his fingers to come to rest, so that he would
not look ridiculous making an empty gesture.

�� Draco�s
eyes had opened very wide, lending his pupils the effect of a polished window
that looked out on a cliff of granite. And no more than that, Lucius thought,
his pulse beating in frustration under the skin of his throat as he stared at
his son. He had learned the lesson against displaying emotion far too well.

�� I did not
tear out my heart,� Draco said at last, voice curiously correct. �I tore out
his.�

�� But his
words had a wavering undertone that Lucius had been listening for, and so he
was not content to let his son get away with that outright lie. He shook his
head and leaned closer, and Draco leaned back in his chair as though they were
balanced on opposite sides of a scale. Lucius felt pity stab through him. Draco
was worse off than he had thought, if his gestures
betrayed him, though his face remained perfectly smooth and calm.

�� You could
not pull out one without the other,� Lucius said. �They beat together.� He
paused, but Draco sat there, unblinking and unbreathing.
Lucius burst out before he could stop himself, as if the emotions that had spent
years piling up behind the weakened walls of his psyche had grown too dense at
last. �Draco, why cannot you admit that
you made a mistake, and call upon him to apologize for the article?� He snatched
the paper that lay on the table between them, bearing the next smug installment
of Draco�s expos� about Potter. �And then perhaps you can convince Skeeter to
retract this monstrosity.�

�� Draco
lifted his head. Lucius would have thought his face as still as before, but
this time his own pulse was trembling, throbbing and making the skin at his throat
quiver oddly. Lucius held his tongue.

�� Why,
Father,� Draco said, with a scrim of sarcasm on the surface of his voice; it would
crack like autumn ice if pressed, Lucius knew. �I do not know how to respond.
You urge me to honesty and to stand against honesty in the same breath.�

�� I am tired
of fencing with you, Draco.� Lucius rose to his feet, and suddenly, strangely,
it was so easy to announce what he
was going to do, even knowing that Draco would take some step to counteract
him. �I can see that you need Potter to survive. Where you developed this
strange dependence, I don�t know, but I will not see my son wither away for
lack of an easily obtained cure. I will give you a day. If you do nothing, then
I will write to Potter myself, begging his forgiveness and describing what the
thought of him turning against you forever has done to you.�

�� Draco
surged upwards and leaned across the table with a graceful twist of his neck
that made Lucius think of a sea serpent. �You will not.�

�� Lucius
narrowed his eyes and spread his fingers in a minute motion. In moments, the
tablecloth had vanished from the table, leaving his teacup demurely in place,
and the chair Draco had been half-leaning against was gone, making him stagger.

�� I still
rule here,� Lucius told him flatly. �You need not think that you can flatter
and fuck me into compliance.�

�� And he
turned and left the room, conscious, for the first time in a long time, of
Draco�s disbelieving stare on his back.

�� It was a
good feeling.

*

�� He doesn�t have the right�

�� Draco
seized the voice in his head that was raging on about Lucius�s rights and his
daring and cast it away into a locked corner of his mind. He could not fight
his father if he were irrational. And he had already come close enough to
irrationality when he saw the Prophet�s article
this morning, which featured a photograph of him leaning forwards as if to
touch the reader�s shoulder confidingly.

�� He sat down
at the table again, taking one of the other chairs. When he glanced at the
paper, a half-remembered sentence��writhed
like a whore strapped to the rack��caught his eye. He looked away.

�� Lucius had
only acted as a goad to the resolution he had already formed. He knew he had to announce himself to
Potter again and do his best to explain, or demand an explanation, or use the
charm and the seduction that had already proven themselves
once to cozen Potter into accepting him. He had merely debated how to do it,
since the letter Potter had sent seemed to promise a final and irrevocable
separation.

�� Now he had
to choose, and perhaps he should thank his father for the thought that
immediately sprang to mind. When in doubt
about what to do, choose frontal assault. Nothing so confuses your enemies when
you have a reputation for indirectness and double dealing. They will be so busy
checking for traps under the surface that they will not bother to confront you
and turn aside the actual advances you make.

�� Draco began
to smile. He knew his own honesty, and though he had a small stock of it, to be
carefully dealt out, he could deal that small stock to Potter. Meanwhile, he
thought he could gauge Potter�s honesty accurately.

�� And that
letter, stinging as it had been, was dishonest. Potter meant to defend himself
and hurt Draco with the words, no more. He would not really slam the door shut
in Draco�s face if he showed up on his threshold.

�� Draco knew
where he lived, of course. That was something he had made sure of in the early
days, when the relics room under the Manor was only a dream and he had thought
he might manage to exist without defeating Potter. He would go to the flat,
wait patiently until Potter showed himself if he was out, and then explain
everything. It ought to be simple to convince Potter to send his friends away,
should he appear with them. He wouldn�t want them to hear whatever private
might pass between him and Draco.

�� Course
decided, Draco rose to his feet, destroying the Daily Prophet with a casual flick of his
wand and a flash of whispered flame.

*

�� You
understand, Harry?�

�� Harry
stirred restlessly for a moment, staring at the series of wet rings that
marched along the edge of Kingsley�s desk. What did he set there? It was a
strange fact of Harry�s life that he rarely saw Kingsley drinking anything but
a single cup of tea, which was certainly not enough to make his desk look like
a table out of the Three Broomsticks.

�� Harry?�

�� Yes, I
understand.� Harry looked up at Kingsley. �But I don�t want to let the case go,
you know that.� Resolutions to be brave and noble and do what was best for himself were harder to keep in the cold light of morning.
Despite knowing pleading would do no good, he did it anyway. �Couldn�t I stay
away from Draco entirely and work on the imposter angle of the case? I could
try to find out where he came from, and that shouldn�t be as dangerous as
guarding Draco or confronting him directly. I know Ron said he thought you�d
found some hints at his real identity recently��

�� The very
fact that you can�t call Malfoy by his last name shows how deeply involved you�ve
become, Harry,� said Kingsley, and there was an infinite gentleness in his
voice that hurt Harry worse than open pity would have.

�� Sorry,
sir,� he muttered, looking at the floor.

�� The person
you should apologize to is yourself.� Kingsley leaned across the desk and
settled a heavy hand on his wrist. Startled, Harry looked up to meet his friend�s
concerned eyes. It was the same way Ron and Hermione had looked at him last
night. Ordinarily, he would have rebelled against the stifling effect of all
that concern, but it was rather nice to see now, as contrasted against the
effect Draco�s words in the paper had produced. �I see that your obsession with
Malfoy has been a festering sore for years now. I should never have assigned
you to the case at all��

�� I�m the
best you have,� Harry said. �You know that when we didn�t have a clue what the
imposter was doing��

�� We still don�t have a clue what the
imposter is doing,� Kingsley said firmly. �Why did he attack you, if he�s interested
in discrediting Malfoy or taking his place? Why did he try his best to kill
you, with a ferocity he had reserved for Malfoy before this? Why did he switch
from committing minor crimes to trying to commit murder?� He sighed and shook
his head. �No, Harry, this is still the most baffling case I�ve ever worked.
And you�ve done enough. It�s true that we needed you in the first portion of
the case, and you�re probably the only reason Malfoy survived so many direct
attacks. But now you�ve been wounded and personally hurt by the man you were
trying to protect, and we have other Aurors who can take over the routine
investigation and bodyguard work. I want you at a distance from this case for
your physical and your mental health,
Harry.� Harry figured the last had been added so quickly because Kingsley had
seen Harry open his mouth to protest that his wound was fine. �And a complete
isolation from news, unless we encounter signs that the imposter is seeking you
to threaten you, is the best way to do that.�

�� Harry
swallowed and nodded. He had to remind himself again that Draco had hurt him, and he had a right to withdraw from
the world to think about it for a while. With Penelope and the rest, he�d had
to swallow his pain and continue working; none of it had ever been connected
with his job before.

�� And it
will look better, too,� Kingsley said, in a murmur so quiet that Harry could
hardly hear him. �There will be people watching to see if we discipline the
Savior of the Wizarding World for sleeping with someone he was supposed to
protect. If we send you away under guard for a short period of time, then we
can pretend that you�ve been suspended for that.�

�� Harry
nodded and gave a wan smile. Yes, suspending his work on this case was the best
course; he knew that. It made sense from all angles.

�� From all
but the angle that said he should be protecting Draco anyway�from a distance,
of course�and that he would be a coward to run away. He�d sent Draco a proud
letter, and now he was going to turn his back and bound into hiding?

�� But those
feelings meant nothing against the hard look in Kingsley�s eyes, which he kept
on Harry even as he chose several sheaves of parchment and splayed them across
the desk.

�� There are
several Ministry properties under Fidelius. Which one
would you prefer? There�s a nice cottage on the coast of Wales��

*

�� The first
book held no solutions. Not the strongest mind-controlling potion Severus knew
of could persuade Potter to lay aside his enmity against Draco, not when that
enmity was so recent and excellently seated.

�� (The Mind-Shaping
Potion, now, that held possibilities for the time when the hatred began to wear
off and Potter would be more susceptible to considering Draco�s side of the
sordid mess. It was powerful, subtle, could enter the subject by touching the skin
as well as by ingestion, and worked well when the enmity was a month old).

�� The second
book held no answers, either. Severus laid it aside reverently, however. It had
reminded him of a Dark Arts potion that he had always meant to pursue, though
brewing it under either Dumbledore or Voldemort�s nose would have meant
suicide.

�� And the
third book�

�� Severus
held the third book still in his lap and gazed down at it as he ran his finger
over the lettering on the front. Dark purple, heavy script imprinted on
ornamented leather; the leather itself was worked with gold and bands of a
glittering, crumbling substance Severus knew was mother-of-pearl. The title
said simply, Of Potions of Control, Bright
and Dark.

�� The potions
in this book were guaranteed to give mastery of the mind, the body, the soul,
or the magic of a wizard to whoever used the potion. If he brewed carefully�most
of the recipes were difficult even for a Potions master, which was one of the reasons
Severus had never shown Draco this book�and ensured that no hand but his gave
Potter the potion, then Severus could command the Chosen One to come back to
Malfoy Manor the next day. And no matter how assiduously his friends
investigated Potter�s bloodstream, saliva, semen, and urine, no trace of the
potion would alert them. It would exaggerate Potter�s obsession with Draco to
overwhelming amounts, and in the end his friends would have to give in and
accept that it was simply this emotion leading him back to Draco�s side and his
bed.

�� Draco would
be ecstatic. Potter himself would know no difference; this potion had been
developed by wizards who wanted willing slaves, and so he would experience the
change in his emotions as natural.

�� Severus could
solve the problem at one stroke.

�� But he did
not know if he wanted to.

�� He
half-closed his eyes and thought of the article Draco had carried to the Prophet. Skeeter had certainly provided
the narrative context, the photographs, and the majority of the supercilious tone.
But the words themselves, the �confessions� of what he and Potter did together
in bed, were Draco�s.

�� Severus
spent some time sifting the words through his memory, sharpened by years of
noting small details in his spying life and the clinging grasp of a Potions
master�s mind, which stored all manner of trivia on the off-chance that it would
be useful in brewing someday. When he was certain he had the essence of the
article stripped down before his inner eye, shining as if cut with a diamond
from glass, he opened his physical eyes and slightly
shook his head.

�� Draco had
willfully betrayed a man he cared a great deal for, though the why of that emotion was as much beyond Severus
as Albus�s will towards goodness had been whilst
Albus lived. He had done it in the least flattering and the most hurtful way
possible. Even buried in his lab as he was, Severus was aware that more than
one of Potter�s past lovers had gone to the papers; one would have to cut off
one�s eyes and ears not to know that, and even then, someone would seize one�s
hands and insist on spelling the news out.

�� Perhaps
Potter had escaped pain. Perhaps Draco had miscalculated how much the article
would hurt him�but Severus did not think so. Draco had to have learned something about Potter in the years he
had tracked him and obsessed over him, though not his own heart.

�� He had
betrayed what he shared with Potter as Severus had betrayed his friendship with
Lily, but not in the flaring impulse of a moment, regretted as soon as it was
done, and not taken back mostly because of stubborn pride.

�� And should
he escape suffering for that, when Severus had spent the rest of his life in
the shadow of his own deed?

�� No.

�� Severus
stood and put the third book carefully away, then walked over to the nearest
clean cauldron and conjured a fire under it, drawing the second book out to
rest on his arm.

*

�� Harry
thought he had turned to stone or dreams for a moment when he came around the corner
outside his flat and saw Draco standing against the door�or both. Some moment
like this had appeared in his nightmares occasionally. Then he straightened,
shook his head, and took a deep breath. No, this moment was reality, and Harry
had the right to feel more than the helpless terror or admiration he usually
did when in a dream.

�� Draco lifted
his head when he saw Harry, and for a moment it seemed as if he trembled. His
face was pale. Then a smile widened across his lips,
and stare as he might, Harry could see no consciousness, no shyness, to that
smile. Draco looked as if he thought a simple explanation would right things.

�� Rage chased
Harry�s weakness away. He moved a step forwards, eyes narrowed, breath breaking through his lips in hungry pants. Hermione,
who had stopped behind him, began to hurry forwards, but Harry lifted his hand
without looking at her. Draco gazed at him curiously in the meantime, as if he
had seen but not understood Harry�s change in demeanor.

�� And the
idea that he could not understand,
that nothing Harry had said made any difference to him, drove the rage to a
height that made Harry say in a grinding voice, �Leave, Hermione,� though
Merlin knew he wasn�t angry at her.

�� Hermione
had more sense than Malfoy. She stepped back around the corner, and Harry was
alone with the man he had obsessed over and fallen in love with and let fuck
him in the grass of a magical place that still made him tingle to remember it.

�� Draco
lifted his hands before his face, as if he really considered that that would
slow down the magic, should Harry decide to strike. �Harry, listen to me,� he
said, voice soft and slow and commanding. �There are various reasons why I
hurried to Skeeter, reasons I can explain. I know you don�t understand them
yet, but you never will if you don�t listen to them.� His voice took on a
lightly chiding tone. �You assumed the worst when you sent me that letter, you
know, and yet you hadn�t even taken the time to listen, to look, to think. You
could have waited for me to send you a letter first.�

�� The
article was your message,� said Harry, his voice hoarse.

�� Draco cocked
his head and sighed delicately. �One that you lacked the
skill to read, Harry. I only intended to warn off the rest of the world,
give them a few morsels to satisfy their salacious curiosity, and create some
privacy for us. If they thought they
knew what was really going on, they�d be more likely to leave us in peace later��

�� And Harry
couldn�t stand it. Draco didn�t even
have the courage to own his revenge. Instead, he jumped back into deceptions so
simple a child would have seen through them, and for what? Why?

�� Because he thinks me that
stupid. Because
he mistook a willingness to trust and let him prove himself for a lack of
intelligence.

�� Harry
barely had to concentrate. Draco�s jaw froze, a heavy invisible weight pressing
down on his tongue, as Harry�s wandless magic sparked along his nerves. He
stood there with his arms folded and considered Draco with a faint smile until
Draco began to make inarticulate protesting noises, trying to move his tongue.
A line of drool slid down his chin; he no longer had the ability to shut his
mouth.

�� There was
a time when I would have given much for you to look at me like that,� Harry
said softly.

�� Draco had
the audacity to let his eyes narrow. Of course he wasn�t ashamed, even now,
Harry thought. And the pity he had been feeling since last night suddenly
overwhelmed the anger. He stepped closer and let Draco see it. Draco blinked
and stopped struggling.

�� Not now,�
Harry said. �Now, I can only be ashamed of myself for falling in love with
someone so cowardly, so childish, so unwilling and unready to face the world
despite being twenty-seven years old.� He shrugged. �I have to live with myself
and what falling in love with you says about me for the rest of my life. But I
don�t have to live with you. Go back
to your lair, lick your wounds, and brood over the wrongs I�ve done you. And I
have done worse than you have,� he added, despite the protesting way Hermione�s
robes rustled around the corner. �Because I expected you to
aspire to an impossible standard of goodness, cleverness, and artistry.
I should have known you�d never be more than yourself.�

�� He flicked
his hand, and Draco vanished, Apparated unwillingly back to Malfoy Manor. Then
Harry took a deep breath, gathered up the strength that he had thought might be
weakened by pity and the shock of seeing Draco again, and called Hermione from
around the corner.

�� At least
that was one good thing about Kingsley�s plan. He was going to a cottage on the
coast of Wales under the Fidelius Charm, with Ron for
bodyguard. He�d like to see Malfoy find him there.

*

�� Thrnbrooke: No one really understands what the imposter
wants.

�� Mangacat: I think both Snape and Ron are much more mature
characters in this story than Draco is. Harry might be catching up to them now.

�� And I think
the ending is guessable now, though maybe not clear for a few more chapters.

�� Banner:
Thank you! I think Harry does still have some weaknesses�he was obsessed with
Draco for years, and that isn�t easy to destroy�but he will absolutely refuse
to accept a relationship based on exploiting him, the way Draco was trying to
do in this chapter.

��
- 19
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The Same Species As Shakespeare