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Forgive Those Who Trespass	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 20650 -:- 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.

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Chapter Twenty-Two�Memory
Is a Grave

�� Harry, at
least, felt too tired and drained to move after Draco had finally stopped
grasping him and stepped away a bit. He arranged blankets for Draco and walled
the doors of the Pensieve room with every ward and small, clever trap spell he
could think of, including several that would blare like klaxons if anything
moved near them. He would have liked to stay awake and guard the other man�s
sleep, but he knew he didn�t have much chance of keeping his eyes open.

�� Especially
not when Draco lay back on the blankets and then insisted that Harry lie beside
him.

�� Harry did
so without hesitation. Show hesitation now, he knew, and he would be cutting
Draco apart in a way he hardly pretended to understand. He could witness the memories,
but he still felt only his emotions, not Draco�s. He had never wished more
fiercely that he was actually good at Legilimency. That would let him know just what Draco needed, not to mention
getting around the communication barrier.

�� Maybe some things are meant to be hard.

�� But Harry
rejected the thought. This wasn�t a case of another prophecy messing up and
changing lives to defeat a greater evil. The Unspeakables had created this
situation themselves, and Harry could not imagine any circumstances under which
Draco would have deserved it.

�� He found
himself staring into Draco�s face; they lay side by side and chest to chest, so
it was somewhat hard not to. Draco was pale, and the circles under his eyes looked
more like bruises. But already his mask of pain was cracking, and Harry could
make out the lines of strength underneath, like a steel support beneath a
fragile wooden frame.

�� I wish I had strength like that. I wish I
could contribute to strength like
that.

�� You can, his conscience said, if you keep your promise.

�� Harry
stirred uneasily. Whether he would be able to keep his promise or not didn�t
depend on him.

�� Draco�s
right hand rose and reached out to him, tracing the edges of his eye sockets�so
close his fingers bumped on Harry�s glasses�and then his cheekbones and
jawline. The soft, shining look in his eyes told Harry what he was trying to
convey.

�� Stop worrying. Go to sleep.

�� With a sigh
of both reluctance and acceptance, Harry tightened his arms around Draco�s body
and sought refuge in slumber from both the painful emotions he�d just
experienced and the painful uncertainties awaiting him.

*

�� He awoke to
whispers. For a moment, before he opened his eyes, he thought the magic that
had filled the throne room with voices had got loose and slipped up on him and
Draco. Or perhaps the maze had moved them backwards. This time, he would watch out for a flicker from his shadow, and
not dismiss it as a trick of his eyes. He took his guardianship over Draco�s
life too seriously to do that now.

�� But when he
looked around, he found them still alone, the wards over the doorways
shimmering in unbroken lines. Harry had no illusions that he was the best
creator of wards in the entire Auror Department, but he�d laid so many that one of them would have had to break if a
spy crept up and peered through. Harry rolled his neck to ease the stiffness;
he wouldn�t move more than that now, since Draco was still asleep.

�� He could
hear the whispers, though.

�� Harry
darted his eyes restlessly from side to side. Nothing, and nothing, and
nothing. By dint of shuffling carefully and making sure that he braced Draco�s
weight again the moment he lifted one part of his body away, he managed to roll
over and study the far corners of the Pensieve room, and to look just past the
base of the pillar. Nothing. He touched his wand and twitched it back and
forth, concentrating hard on the nonverbal incantation, but no human presence
appeared.

�� There are things in this maze that aren�t
human.

�� But Harry
didn�t know all of them, so he could hardly go through a list of spells guaranteed
to hit them all. Besides, Draco was starting to stir and murmur unhappily, and
Harry didn�t want to recall him to wakefulness�and memory�before it was time.

�� So he
forced himself to lie there, or twist slowly through motions designed to
relieve his cramped arms and legs, and listen to the voices instead. Perhaps he
could analyze them if he listened long enough; perhaps he would hear something
familiar.

�� This time,
that didn�t happen. The whispers never rose or came closer, as the ones in the
room of voices had, and Harry didn�t think one of them was Ron, one Hermione,
or anyone else familiar, such as other members of the Weasley family. At the
same time, they did remind him of
something. The something tickled irritatingly at the corner of his memory,
never coming closer, never revealing itself properly in the light. Harry huffed
under his breath and then froze as he realized the motion had stirred Draco�s
hair.

�� A moment
later, there could be no doubt that Draco was really returning to
consciousness. His head rolled back against Harry�s arm, and his mouth opened
in a yawn that Harry found the more endearing for its silence.

�� Remember, Harry�s internal monitor
reminded him, you can�t be too attached,
in case you have to leave him. And you can�t get attached to a man too much at
all, if you want to have a chance of remaining straight.

�� Harry
admitted the truth of both those propositions, but that couldn�t change the
fact that he did find the yawn
endearing. When Draco�s eyes popped open a moment later, he could only smile
helplessly.

�� Sleep
well?� he whispered.

�� Draco, eyes
wide as though he were hypnotized by Harry�s proximity, nodded slightly. Then
he turned his head to the side. Harry started to open his arms, thinking this
was a signal to let him go, but instead, Draco sighed out and laid his cheek
against Harry�s.

�� That froze
Harry. It felt�very close. Very warm. Animal,
almost, the kind of gesture an affectionate kitten might make. He had to
hold still and just wait, slowness sliding through his limbs, happiness making
his heart race.

�� Draco
pulled back at last and rose slowly to his knees, then to his feet. Once there,
he put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow at Harry. Are you going to lie on those blankets all
day?

�� Harry
scrambled up, his face burning. The sliding warmth hadn�t left him yet, and he
didn�t know why he should be so affected by such a simple thing, but he was.
Reality had an eerie habit of getting past his defenses that morning.

�� Do you
hear the whispers?� he asked.

�� Draco�s
eyes narrowed at once in worry, and he turned around. Harry put a hand on his
shoulder, sorry to have alarmed him. �No, I don�t think they have anything to
do with that throne room. I haven�t heard my friends� voices�or your father�s,
either.� When the shoulder under his palm fell a little, he knew he�d hit Draco�s
main concern. �But it does sound
familiar. Maybe just because it resembles leaves in wind or the murmur of a
crowd, but I can�t put my finger on it.�

�� Draco
shrugged, as good as saying that he could deal with anything short of Lucius�s
voice again, and then gave the Pensieve one more lingering glance. Harry waited.
He could hardly interfere in Draco�s decision. If he wanted the memories back
in his head, then Harry would fetch them for him.

�� But Draco
shook his head and turned decisively away. Harry walked after him to the far
side of the Pensieve room, where Draco waited like a cat at a shut door for
Harry to take the wards down. Then he made his way into the tunnel beyond the
doorway without looking back.

�� Harry
remembered to turn around and Summon the blankets they�d lain on before he
followed, but it was a near thing.

*

�� They went
on a longer uninterrupted journey than any of the others, that day, without a
single attack by magical creatures, a single odd room, or another Pensieve. The
tunnels varied more than they had before, however, sometimes the plain patterned
stone that Harry had grown to hate, sometimes wooden corridors of the sort that
Harry had seen between the throne room and the sixth Pensieve, and once or
twice stairs or ramps.

�� Harry kept
looking back over his shoulder, wondering if he could hear Unspeakables
following, wondering if the stairs would retract or the ramps grow slick and
unpassable behind them. But neither happened.

�� The
whispering voices, however, kept pace with them. And Harry�s unease and wonder
that Draco couldn�t hear what was so plain to him grew.

�� When they
reached the corridor with carpet and wooden walls where they decided to make
camp at last, Harry was sufficiently unnerved to ask Draco about the voices
again. But Draco peered at Harry�s ears in concern, instead of admitting that
it was strange he couldn�t hear them.

�� I think it�s
something in the maze,� Harry said, as he, at Draco�s insistence, used a small
fire spell to warm up some of the cold food he�d brought along. �Not something wrong
with me.�

�� Draco
spread his hands and tilted his head. How
can you be sure? the gesture said, and I
have no better idea.

�� Because�well,
I don�t have anything wrong with me,�
said Harry. �I�m not sick. Nothing�s attacked me today. I haven�t taken any
wounds since my fight with the snake, and those are all healed.� He shrugged. �If
something�s wrong with me, why wouldn�t something be wrong with you, too?�

�� The maze, Draco said, reaching out to the
communication sphere. This is my place.

�� Not
forever,� Harry said grimly, as a fist seemed to take hold of his stomach. �I
promise I�ll free you from it.�

�� Draco
smiled condescendingly at him and reached out to pat his knee. Harry wasn�t
sure that he liked the implied lack of confidence, but on the other hand,
telling Draco his plan would result in a hissy fit and Draco�s refusal to let
Harry go through with it. And in his current state of helplessness, with the memories
from yesterday still spreading like octopus tendrils through Harry�s mind whenever
he paused to think, Draco would be able to manipulate Harry through guilt into
giving up the plan.

�� I can�t let him do that. The more Harry
thought about it, the more convinced he was that it was the only way to free
Draco. The maze had gone wrong, and thus he didn�t think they had to worry
about becoming immortal from walking it, but on the other hand, it was
literally built on Draco�s bones and mind. How could he be removed from it?

�� How do you safely move the foundation from
under a building? You dig under it, but I don�t think that will work here. Or
you crack the building away and give up its foundation, but that would mean leaving
Draco in the maze forever. Not an option.

�� Or you do what you have to do. And if you�re
limited by a lack of materials and time, that only increases the idea of doing
what you have to do, not what you
might like to.

�� Harry took
a bite of warm fish, and had to admit that tasted better than the dried meat he�d
brought along. Draco was hungrily chewing, his mouth and his hand both oddly
tilted so that he could eat normally despite his short fingers.

�� Just look at him, Harry thought, and the
fist that had earlier held his stomach moved to his heart. He�s long since made up for the suffering he caused�or, at the very
least, he�s alive and the people he tortured are dead, and I can�t help them. He
deserves a chance to regrow his bones, to walk in the sunlight, to talk
normally and confess what the Unspeakables did to him to the Healers. I�ve got
to win that chance for him.

�� Harry
relaxed as the decision spread through him. He was here to rescue his friends,
but he was also here to save Draco. And he was gaining the knowledge to do it;
the only thing that had been lacking was the resolve. Now he had strengthened his
will, and he would not turn aside because of petty fears.

�� He realized
Draco was looking at him with a frown, doubtless wondering why he had been so
silent so long. Harry reached out and cupped the other man�s face for a moment,
laying a quick kiss on his cheek. �Considering tortures for Richard, if we meet
up with him,� he said. �And thinking about how handsome you look in the
firelight.�

�� Draco
beamed, and snared more fish.

*

�� The
whispers were still present when they awoke the next day, but not louder or
more insistent, and Harry largely ignored them as he and Draco trotted through
endless tunnels. He was eager for the seventh Pensieve, so that he could
continue to gather the knowledge that would free Draco from the maze.

�� Now and
then he rubbed his arms, feeling a bit cold, and once or twice he got a twinge
in his temples, as if a headache had started to manifest and then stopped itself.
But neither of those things were a warning.

�� They
rounded a corner into a circular space that might have served for an
amphitheater if it had had seats, and in the center of the circular space was
the veil Sirius had fallen through.

�� Draco
halted at once, his face wary. Harry stepped up beside him, but he could hardly
look at Draco. His body had tightened up, and the cold and the headache he�d
felt earlier had come back full force.

�� He
recognized the whispers flowing past him now, of course. These were the voices
of the beloved dead.

�� The damned thing looked exactly as it
had the last time Harry had seen it, in the normal Department of Mysteries at
the end of his fifth year. There was the arch; there was the ragged veil.
Currents of cold swirled about Harry and curled like hands around his waist,
tugging at him as if they could get him to move forwards that way.

�� Draco�s
hand fell on his arm, but it felt oddly distant, as if Harry were turning to
marble and Draco had remained only flesh. He was probably in shock, Harry
thought, and his mind shivered and scrambled as it had when he was light and
reading Draco�s thoughts as words scratched on glass. That was to be expected,
considering the suddenness of his confrontation with an object that had
appeared in his dreams again and again.

�� And then
something happened that he had not expected.
A figure moved under the ragged veil. Thin, shadowy, uncanny, it paused just at
the edge where the billowing curtain separated the worlds of the living and the
dead. Harry recognized the ragged hair and the tentative smile and the flashing
gray eyes.

�� This was Sirius�looking
not young and happy, as he had when Harry summoned the ghosts of his parents and
the Marauders in the Forbidden Forest, but as he had just before he fell through
the veil. Harry had been content with the vision of the dead that the
Resurrection Stone granted him, but now his heart banged painfully against his
chest, almost as painfully as it had when he was thinking of the horror of
Draco�s torments. Sirius had never received justice. His afterlife might be
happy, but on the other hand, Harry could have deluded himself, or seen only
what he needed to see when he thought he was walking to his own death.

�� Sirius,�
he said.

�� The figure
gave him another uncertain smile, and moved a few steps away from the veil. Its
body was gray, not transparent like the body of a ghost, and its feet raised
puffs of dust from the stone platform the veil sat on. It paused on the edge of
the platform, and held out a hand. No, he
paused and held out a hand.

�� Harry,�
Sirius said, in the barking voice that Harry remembered. �You�ve changed so
much. So much more than I thought�� He broke off and shook his head. �Time
doesn�t pass in the land of the dead as it passes out here,� he murmured, obviously
saddened.

�� Harry tried
to step forwards, and found Draco clinging to him like a dead weight of
bone-spider. Harry uttered a soft distressed sound, and Draco leaned hard
against him and shoved. They both
fell to the stone floor, and Harry yelped as his head bounced off it.

�� Harry?�
Sirius asked anxiously.

�� Get off,� Harry muttered, and pushed at
Draco. But Draco draped himself across Harry, shaking his head wildly so that
his hair rustled against Harry�s chin, his eyes brilliant with fear and determination.
He was mouthing something over and over, so that Harry had to reluctantly pause
and try to make it out, instead of forcing Draco out of the way so he could
reach Sirius.

�� You promised, said Draco�s lips.

�� Never leave me, he had said after the
Pensieve. And Harry had agreed. And even though he had not known if he could
keep the promise, Draco would not have expected him to break it so soon.

�� Damn.

�� Harry
craned his neck so that he could stare past Draco�s head at the stone platform.
Sirius was still waiting for him, face wistful but accepting, as though he had
come to consider himself never a recipient of happiness.

�� My time
isn�t long, Harry,� he said. �Just enough to bid you goodbye. But if you don�t
want to come, I�ll understand.� He glanced down at his own body with a
self-deprecating expression. �I�m afraid the years haven�t done your poor old
godfather much good.�

�� Harry put
up another struggle. But short of hurting Draco, there was nothing he could do
to move him. Harry swore at him. Draco just mouthed You promised, and then dropped his head to rest his ear against
Harry�s chest. He seemed to be listening to Harry�s heart.

�� I didn�t
die, you know,� Sirius murmured. �Or, at least, not completely. Part of my soul
did separate and go on; that was how I was able to come to you in the Forbidden
Forest, when you thought you were walking off to be a sacrifice. But my body
and the rest of my soul remained here. I couldn�t come out again until someone who
cared for me passed by.� He exhaled hard, and Harry thought he was trying to
control tears. �I�d given up hope of that happening,� he added.

�� You�re�alive?�
Harry choked. Draco punched him in the ribs, which didn�t help him get his
breath.

�� Sirius
shrugged. �I�m half-alive. That might be the best way to put it, since �undead�
means something else.� He strained forwards eagerly, reminding Harry of the way
he�d acted when he thought about coming out of Grimmauld Place in that last
year of his life. �Are you sure you couldn�t come up and touch my hand, Harry?
At the very least, we�ll have one final handshake before you go back to saving
the world and I go back to moldering away here. Or you might�� He exhaled
again, and how he managed to keep speaking was beyond Harry. �Or it might be
that you could pull me out of this half-life I�m trapped in.�

�� Harry
suffered a moment of intense vertigo. He could have Sirius back again�a dream
that seemed so childish and silly he�d given up hope of it years ago. He could
have someone who would listen to him and act like an older brother�he�d known
for years now that Sirius wouldn�t have made parent or guardian material, but
that was all right, an older brother
was fine, perfect even, he wasn�t fifteen anymore and he didn�t need a guardian�and
try to understand him when he did stupid things and support him when he
faltered. He would have someone other than Ron and Hermione, who had each other,
or the Weasleys, who had felt a little less like family ever since Harry found
out he couldn�t marry Ginny.

�� And this had to be the real Sirius. How else
would he know about that walk in the woods, something Harry hadn�t even told
Ron and Hermione?

�� Let me up!� he snarled at Draco. God, he didn�t
want to hurt Draco, but he was choosing just the wrong moment to be clingy. �It�s
my godfather�I have to go to him��

�� There�s nothing there, Draco mouthed at
him.

�� Harry blinked
and stared back at the platform and the veil. Still he could see his godfather,
yearning forwards with a hope in his face that was painful to watch.

�� Yes, he
is,� Harry disagreed, and finally managed to wrestle his wand free. He would Levitate
Draco off him, and then he could dash up to the platform and clasp Sirius�s
hand and drag him back into the living world.

�� Draco
gripped his shoulders and shook him. He was mouthing something else now, but so
fast Harry couldn�t make it out. And he had always been horrible at lip-reading
anyway. Why should he try?

�� Because of what he�s been to you in this
maze.

�� Growling,
Harry focused on the lip-motions. Draco began to mouth the words more slowly
the moment he realized Harry was paying attention to him.

�� Unspeakables. Experiments with death. The
veil. Prisoners saw their loved ones there, but they went behind the veil when
they tried to touch them.

�� Harry
blinked and shivered, cold. He was cold all over, in fact, except where Draco
draped on top of him, a warm, insistent, living
weight.

�� But he
could see Sirius so clearly. And how would he know about that walk in the
woods, if he wasn�t real?

�� If he�s coming from within you, his
conscience said this time. If this is all
just a trick to make you step on the platform and then go behind the veil.

�� Harry,�
the figure said, in Sirius�s voice and with Sirius�s eyes shining and with
Sirius�s hand extended to him. �Please. There�s not much time.� He paused, and
then added in a tone so near to begging that Harry�s heart broke, �Please.�

�� Harry
swallowed and looked back at Draco. Draco was watching him steadily, solemnly.
And then he lifted his hand and laid it against Harry�s cheek.

�� He could be wrong. Maybe he thought he saw
people vanishing behind the veil, but they were really reunited with the people
they loved.

�� But he hadn�t
been wrong about the maze so far.

�� And Harry trusted Draco.

�� Don�t let
me look,� he whispered, and buried his face in Draco�s neck, wrapping his arms
around the other man�s chest. Draco immediately embraced him back, so
protective that Harry nestled closer to him involuntarily.

�� Harry?�
called Sirius. �Just a handshake, to say goodbye? I understand if you don�t want
me back in your life.� This time, Harry�s breath caught on a sob. �But just one
more touch�I�ve been without human touch so long�it�s my soul that�s with James
and Lily and Remus, not me�please��

�� He repeated
the words again and again, and then his voice rose to a mournful shriek, and
faded to a handful of whispers. When Harry dared to glance in the direction of
the platform again, it was empty, and only the veil billowed there.

�� Draco held
him as he wept, and when Harry swallowed back the tears and tried to apologize,
he shook his head without speaking and cupped the back of Harry�s neck. The
simple gesture nearly made Harry break down again.

�� As he
helped Draco stand and they continued down the tunnel that opened on the far
side of the circular stone room, Harry�s head was reeling. He would never have
imagined that he would ever trust Draco Malfoy more than Sirius.

�� And another
revelation was forcing its way forwards, cold and angular and uncomfortable, in
some ways, as the veil.

�� No one will ever mean to me what he does.

*

�� Thrnbrooke:
Can�t answer that yet!

�� Lilith:
Sorry, can�t answer that yet.

�� Mangacat:
Oh, yes, the letters on the Pensieve form a spell. When they�re all grouped
together, you�ll probably be able to translate it.

�� rAiNwAtEr:
Very good questions. Unfortunately, I cannot answer them. ;)

�� Hi-chan:
Thanks for reviewing!

�� Kayo: Well,
unfortunately, Harry has pretty much decided on his plan.

�� DBZVelena:
Interesting speculation!

�� WeasleyWench:
Thank you! I�m glad you noted that part about the voice. Rendering Draco
helpless was a huge part of this.

�� Curly88:
There are eight Pensieves. Since there are more than one set of Draco�s ribs
made into them, it�s not as simple as one pillar being sculpted from one bone.

�� Off_the_deep_end:
Thanks for reviewing!

�� SoftObsidian74:
Heh, everyone else seemed to find the spiders worse than the dogs!

�� Landra:
Thanks for reviewing!

��
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Forgive Those Who Trespass