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Nova Cupiditas	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 37321 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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
Twenty-One�High-Handed

�� What is the way that you can know if
impulses in your head are yours or coming from a curse?

�� Draco drew
a line on the floor around him with his wand while he thought about that. The line
shone red for long moments before it finally faded back to a dull scarlet glow.
Draco studied it for some time. The book that had described this particular
series of spells hadn�t said that the protective circle should do that.

�� On the
other hand, it had said the circle
might look a bit different if the person creating it was under a
mind-controlling spell. Draco snorted to himself. He suspected that half the Nova Cupiditas curse
still counted.

�� He sat down
on the floor inside the circle, because he didn�t know how long it would take
to cast this series of spells, and then checked the door one more time. He�d
raised the wards on it before creating the circle, since the whole purpose of
the protective circle was not to let magic out, but he could still imagine
someone intruding all too easily.

�� Silence. He
was going to keep all of this silent if he could.

�� Draco
turned back to the center of the circle and closed his eyes. He could have
brought the book into the center with him, but it had once been a point of
pride with him that he could memorize any spells he needed. And he doubted that
Harry had needed to look up the spells; the notes he had studied in his lab had
a different purpose.

�� Jealousy
drifted through his head like a wandering flame. What is he doing there right now? Who�s with him?

�� Draco
stifled the impulse, with some difficulty, to spring to his feet, dash the
circle apart, and go to see, and began to chant instead. The books he�d
consulted had suggested that he start the spells when a manifestation of the
mind-control spell occurred, and short of waiting for a blast of the lust,
Draco couldn�t think of a better time.

�� The spells
were complex, long strings of Latin that wound through his head like chains.
Draco had to concentrate on them, but his mind roamed back and forth in the
meantime, picking up other images and threading them together.

�� He could
see Harry the way he had seen him today, with his eyes wide and his hands
clutching uselessly at the air as though he wanted to reach for his wand but
wasn�t sure it was the appropriate response. That uncertainty was his biggest
ally, Draco thought. If Harry decided that something was right and he didn�t
have to doubt, he would move heaven and earth to make it happen. But he didn�t
know at the moment, and so he had to hesitate.

�� Neither did
Draco know. That was what the spells he was chanting at the moment were
designed to help him find out.

�� He saw
Harry the way he had looked when he was on the bed in Draco�s private house,
trembling on the edge of yielding, his whole face so raw with emotion that it
was like staring at an extra layer of nakedness beneath the skin. Draco tried
to consider dispassionately what would have happened if Harry had given in, the disasters that would
have resulted, but that was hard when lust blazed around the edges of his
thoughts and his groin swelled.

�� Had he lost
track of the latest spell? No, he hadn�t. Draco did take a deep breath and go
back to concentrating, though. He didn�t want to lose his balance and be forced
to repeat the whole series of spells over again.

�� He could
see Harry the way he had looked when he was trying to plead with Draco not to
hurt his father, not to hurt the Muggleborn fanatics. Not his finest moment,
Draco acknowledged with the rational part of his mind. He could even say that
it made him weak and sick with panic and revulsion, and he would be speaking
the truth.

�� But there
was still part of him that thought the most important thing was to protect
Harry, and couldn�t regret anything he had done in the pursuit of that goal.

�� Draco shook
his head, not hard enough to make him lose track of the spells he was spinning,
and kept on chanting. He would do what he could to subdue those impulses, but
first he had to understand how deeply they were woven into his brain.

�� The last
syllable passed his lips, and a sharp crack cut across the air. Draco started,
but kept his eyes closed. If he looked now, the book had warned, it was
possible that he would have to begin over again because he would be so
distracted.

�� The air
next to him grew warm, and Draco could see light playing across his shut
eyelids, as though the sun was shining in through one of his bedroom windows.
Since they were all enchanted and showed only what he wanted them to show, he doubted
that was the case. But he had nothing else to do other than control himself, it
sometimes seemed, at least when it came to living with the curse, so he sat
still and continued to breathe in and out.

�� He finally
heard the sound that the book had told him to watch for: a loud, shrill whistle
splitting the air outside the circle, which died down to a sigh. When Draco
opened his eyes and saw the shining image in front of him, he let his own
breath out in a sigh that nearly matched it. He was more impressed with himself
than he had ever been, seeing what he had created just now, on the first try
and with no prior training.

�� The image
of his head was near-perfect, threaded with shining strings of red and white.
The red represented the effects on his brain from a mind-control spell, and the
white represented the spell itself. Draco had expected to see the picture of
his head overcrowded with both.

�� Instead, he
saw the white strings clustered in just one spot, towards the front of his
brain. What part that was, he had no idea. He would have to do some more
reading. But the red strings spread throughout, deepening into dusky or
wine-colored shades in certain areas.

�� Draco
smiled sourly. He should have realized. Yes, his actions were influenced by the
remnants of Nova Cupiditas,
but in such subtle ways that he probably couldn�t say for certain which
ones were free and which ones were constrained.

�� And even if
they were influenced, did that mean that he had to stop and interrogate himself
every time he wanted to do something?

�� Harry would
probably say yes. Draco could see Harry hesitating forever on the cusp of
commitment, worried about damaging Draco, or abridging his free will�although
he hadn�t seemed to worry about that when he was on the verge of saying farewell
forever, Draco thought sardonically�or raping him.

�� But if this
was right�and he would need to cast more spells to be certain�Draco knew he had
only two choices.

�� One was to
spend the rest of his life obsessed, paralyzed, with the study of his own
actions. Was he free? Was he a slave? Was he hurting someone else, or himself,
or his family�s reputation, or what he could have, with the way he acted?

�� The other
was to accept that he would need a small waiting period before he made
important decisions or took important actions. That wasn�t the same thing as
deciding that he needed to brood. And
if he couldn�t ever be completely sure, well, he would live with that the same
way he would have lived with the scars from self-mutilation that he had fully
expected the curse to produce.

�� But will Harry be willing to live with it?

�� Draco
shrugged. At the moment, he didn�t know the answer to that question, and he
couldn�t let his speculations control his choices.

�� But he did
know one thing. The curse had changed him. Of course it had. It would have been
silly to expect to come out of an experience like that unscathed.

�� He thought
the price of potential uncertainty worth paying for what he had now, and much
cheaper than it might have been.

*

�� Are you
all right?� Hermione asked the moment she saw him step out of the fireplace.

�� Harry
grunted under his breath and made a beeline for the kitchen. He needed to do something to get him over the
encounter with Draco, he thought. He wanted to do research, or cast spells, or
leaf through his notes and find those fascinating charms that he had written
down years before and practice them. But that wasn�t a good idea in the mood he
was in right now; he might make something blow up. Brewing potions was out for
the same reason, and because Harry never had
got that good at them.

�� But he
could cook. He got out a bunch of vegetables that he had more or less randomly
collected and placed under a Freezing Charm, and began to cut and chop them. He
could have done that by magic, but after a short struggle, he had laid his wand
out of reach so that it wouldn�t be a temptation.

�� That bad?�
Hermione asked from the doorway.

�� Harry took
a deep breath. He wondered how much clearer he could make it that he didn�t
want to talk. Ron would have understood, he thought. Or Remus, who had been so
gentle that sometimes having him around in the background, talking soothingly,
had been the best company that Harry could imagine.

�� Or Draco.

�� But
Hermione was herself and wouldn�t turn into any of those people, so Harry
stepped up what he was doing, because Hermione wouldn�t bother someone who was
obviously busy. He thought he heard her sigh, but she also went into the
drawing room, and that left Harry alone to make his enormous salad.

�� When it was
made, Harry looked at the bright, clashing colors and realized he had no
appetite for it right now. He cast a Freezing Charm, then changed his mind and
cast a Stasis Charm instead. Freezing would probably ruin some of those
ingredients right now, but Stasis would keep it perfectly intact until he
wanted it.

�� That done,
it was time to go into the drawing room and face the Granger Inquisition. Harry
dusted off his hands and walked slowly towards her, wondering if he could
actually put his feelings into words. He had succeeded in not thinking about it
for a while, though, which was all he had wanted when he began the salad.

�� Hermione
looked up at him and gave him a strained smile. �Are you ever going to see him
again?� she asked.

�� Harry
blinked. He hadn�t expected her to ask that. He sat down and looked at her, and
Hermione did nothing but look, pale and agitated, back at him.

�� I don�t
know,� Harry finally had to admit. �I don�t think it would be good, because I
don�t think he has any concept of how much the remaining curse is still
influencing his actions. But he insists that he does, and that�by doubting him,
I�m inflicting the same kind of pain on him that the Seekers of Justice did.�
He winced when he thought about that. The accusation stung him in the deepest
parts of his mind, the ones that had convinced him he had to do the best he
could for everyone and that helping Draco was right.

�� Oh,
Harry,� Hermione whispered. �You must know that�s not true. You�re right to be
cautious about the things he�s doing as long as the curse remains.�

�� Harry
looked up. �You think I wouldn�t have to if I could find a means to get rid of
the curse completely?�

�� Well, of
course,� Hermione said, blinking a little, as if she hadn�t thought of that
particular solution. �But I don�t think you can, and I do think that you should stop beating yourself up about it. You can
move past this if you do it slowly. Keep away from him, and then you can�t be
hurting him or dictating his
choices.�

�� Harry
sighed. �I don�t know if he�ll let me,� he admitted. Perhaps he had been wrong,
and Hermione understood him better than he had thought. �And I�m not sure that
I could even if I wanted to.�

�� Hermione
did shoot him a quick frown then. �You have to do what�s best for your mental
health, of course,� she said dubiously. �But ultimately, don�t you think it
would be better for your mental health if you stayed at a distance?�

�� Why?�
Harry was curious about what she would say. He had run his own arguments
through his head so many times that they had grown stale and tired.

�� Because,�
Hermione said, and made a sweeping gesture with one hand that Harry thought was
meant to encompass all the many and varied reasons she couldn�t put words to
right now. �He nearly raped you. Can
you forget that?�

�� I don�t
want to,� Harry said. �I want to confront it, and I think the only way I can do
that is in his company.�

�� Hermione
sighed and spread her hands wide again. �Fine. I may have phrased myself
badly.� That would have been an occasion for Harry to tease her on any other
occasion, but now he could only manage a wan smile and wait for the next part
of the interrogation. �Can you forgive him?
Trying to have a relationship with him is worse than self-destructive if you
can�t. And I think there are some crimes that shouldn�t be forgiven. If he used
a Dark curse on Ron, then you might��

�� You can�t
have it both ways, Hermione,� Harry said impatiently. �Either he�s not in
control of his actions and I should stay away from him because I might be hurt,
or he knew what he was doing all along and he�s responsible for his crimes,
which means that he can also restrain himself.�

�� Either
way, it means you should stay away from him,� Hermione said, though she had the
good grace to blush as she spoke. �I don�t know whether or not to hold him
responsible for cursing Ron and trying to rape you. These are serious crimes, Harry, and whether or
not he�s charged for them doesn�t really matter. Can you know what he did and
look at him without it coming between you? How can you? It might be kinder to leave him behind now than to promise
him a future you can�t make with him.�

�� Harry shut
his eyes. She was right about one thing: he could still see Ron and Lucius
writhing on the floor under the curses that Draco had cast on them when he
closed his eyes. He accepted that Draco had been under Nova Cupiditas and not responsible, but
that only turned the blame in a new direction.

�� Onto him.
If he had taken Draco�s wand away and sealed it in a secure place, then those
curses wouldn�t have happened. Harry could have dealt with Ron�s antagonism
towards Draco and Lucius�s attempts to kill him on his own.

�� He sighed.
He thought sometimes that he was in love with Draco, sometimes that he only
pitied him, but either way, he didn�t know what his emotions meant, and this
wasn�t a good time to try and figure it out.

�� I�ll do
the very best I can, Hermione,� he said. �But I can�t leave him with no word,
either.�

�� Then send
him word by an owl or a firecall.� Hermione�s voice was kind, but firm. �I
absolutely agree that he needs to understand what you�re doing, so he doesn�t
come after you again. But being in his presence seems to affect your brain too
much. Doing it from a distance is best.�

�� Harry
shivered. He didn�t want to leave Draco behind, but how much of that was real
affection and how much was concern that Draco couldn�t stand on his own because
he still didn�t know what effects the torn, tattered half-curse might have?

�� He didn�t
know.

�� He didn�t
know how he would ever live with the uncertainty.

�� He stood
up, shaking his head. Hermione stood up, too, as if she would come with him,
but Harry smiled at her in a strained way that made her lift her eyebrows and
stare at him. �I�m sorry,� he said hoarsely. �I�m not good company right now.
But I think that you should stay here. I have to think it over.�

�� From the
way I saw you making that salad, thinking it over is the last thing you�ll do,�
Hermione said, her face darkening. �You�ll run from it and do something else
that occupies so much of your thoughts you have none left over.�

�� Harry
hunched his shoulders and turned away from her, glad when she didn�t pursue
him. She might be right, but he didn�t see what else he could do. He needed
someone�s help to work through this, but there was no one he would have trusted
except possibly Draco�whose help was the last he could have. He should avoid
thinking about it until he was more sure, but how was he to become more sure?

�� I can�t live with this uncertainty.

�� That was
the only insight to come out of this muddle of thoughts that he trusted, and so
Harry caught it, grasped it, held it. He wanted certainties to stand on. He
knew that he didn�t want to hurt Draco. He knew he wanted to see Draco again.
He knew that he couldn�t stand to love Draco if his feelings turned out to be
delusions, much less self-delusions.

�� He would
tell that to Draco the next time he saw him, and ask if Draco had any good way
of differentiating his actions under the half-curse from the actions he would
naturally have taken in the situation.

�� Harry
suspected that he knew what the answer would be.

*

�� I need
your decision on the matter of your marriage soon, son.�

�� Draco
raised his head and regarded his father across the breakfast table. Lucius had
a faint, polite smile on his lips, but Draco didn�t think it would stay polite
for long. He was too obviously looking for the scroll and the photographs that
he had given Draco the day before.

�� I have
made one,� Draco said, and dabbed carefully at the bits of egg left on his lips
with his napkin before putting the plate aside. Lucius waited until the plate
had vanished with its attendant house-elf before he leaned forwards and gazed
at Draco searchingly.

�� You seem
more confident this morning,� he remarked.

�� I am.�
Draco remembered that vision of the red and white of the spell coiling through
his head. I�m always influenced. I�m
always making decisions that may not be completely free, because of that bloody
curse. I�ll always have to question myself and wonder how much of what I�m
doing, thinking, feeling, saying is real.

�� But he was
wise enough to know that that had always been true. He was always in danger of
doing something because of his father�s influence, or to please his parents, or
because he wanted to avoid a confrontation, or because of the twisted ideals
the Dark Lord had tried to implant in his followers, or because he didn�t have
all the information about the circumstances that he would need to make a
totally unbiased decision. The curse was different, and it had changed him
differently, but complete freedom was an illusion.

�� He wondered
if that would be easier for him to accept than it would be for Harry. Harry had had the idea that he could affect
the whole world, that his free choice to confront the Dark Lord and defeat him
would change things for the better. Draco didn�t think he would entertain the
notion that Gryffindor House or his friends had probably influenced him as much
in making that choice as his own innate goodness.

�� Not that his innate goodness isn�t pretty
bloody strong, Draco thought with a faint smile.

�� Draco. You
said that you had made a decision.�

�� Draco
blinked and looked up. Lucius was by now leaning forwards as if he would rise
from the chair. Draco hadn�t realized that he was that dependent on Draco�s
words, or that irritated by his silence.

�� Yes,�
Draco said. �I�ve chosen not to marry any of those women right now. Perhaps I
will eventually.� It was always possible that his relationship with Harry
wouldn�t work out, or that Harry would be unable to bear the uncertainty that
Draco had embraced. Or he wouldn�t explain himself well enough, or something
unrelated would split them apart down the road. Draco couldn�t see all the
possibilities. He could only live with what he had decided was acceptable.

�� His father
went still, and Draco would have known from that stillness, if he hadn't
suspected it already, that his answer was the wrong one. The difference was
that he had decided not to allow his father to influence him more than was
absolutely necessary, such as the way that he was influenced simply by having Malfoy as a last name. Draco reached out a hand, and the
house-elf had a glass of water ready and waiting for him by the time that his
arm finished extending. Draco sipped from it, savored the clink of ice against
his lips, and waited.

�� "You
must choose now," Lucius said. He said it
gently, as if he assumed that Draco would be more inclined to pay attention if
he did that.

�� "Why?"
Draco asked, looking up. "My name was recently in the papers as a victim
of Nova Cupiditas.
They won't be expecting any miraculous recovery right now, any marriage
proposal. There's no reason that I can't wait a short time and find out what
happens. Perhaps some of the families you wanted me to marry into will reveal
their true qualities in their reaction to the news."

�� "Their
quality is already assured." Lucius was speaking
through grinding teeth, but Draco saw no reason why he should allow that to influence him. "As Potter's
lack of quality is."

�� Draco nodded,
unsurprised. He would have been far more upset if he had ever assumed that his
father had another motive for the marriage, but he didn't. "Ah. So being
an acknowledged hero and a clever research wizard and the man who saved your
son is not enough for you to welcome him as a son-in-law."

�� Lucius's face shifted like a winter sea stirred by the
wind. "You do not understand, Draco," he murmured at last. "The
family is larger than the individual. He cannot give you children. He cannot
bring you money."

�� "His
body and his soul are all the wealth he needs," Draco said.

�� "And
you cannot be sure that you are reacting to him free from the trammels of the
curse," Lucius said, with the undertone of
someone trying to reason with the mentally ill. "That must matter to you.
Why would you want to sleep with someone merely to please the magic that
constrains you?"

�� Draco's
body burned with fiery ice at the thought of sleeping with Harry, but he
thought he kept that off his face. He thought
he did. "Why should I want to sleep with someone merely to please
you?" he asked.

�� "I
forbid it," Lucius said.

�� "If
you're worried that he'll bring charges against you for trying to kill him, you
need not be," Draco said in a bored tone as he rose to his feet. He didn't
intend to listen to his father much longer. He intended to find Harry and learn
what he had decided, and what he thought of Draco's decision. "He has
already made some sacrifices to ensure that I won't be persecuted for what I
did under the curse. He wants me left alone, and that will include my
family."

�� "Perhaps
that wish means that you should leave him
alone?" Lucius asked, visibly grasping at
straws.

�� Draco
paused and gave him a cruel smile. Lucius didn't
flinch, but his hold on his cane grew a bit more desperate.

�� "I
choose not to relinquish anyone whom I want and who hasn't specifically asked
to be left alone," Draco said. "Harry hasn't asked that. He is constrained by his guilt for not
doing something before. But he hasn't refused. I am going to find out if he
will."

�� He left. Lucius didn't shout after him, because he wasn't that
undignified.

�� But Draco
knew the choices were good that he would have to face a battle later.

�� He smiled
and shook his head. Compared to the battle he would have to fight with Harry,
he doubted that that struggle would be worth recording.

*

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