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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-Two--All Doubled

�� Someone
pounded on Harry's door. He started to his feet, swearing. He had spent only a
few hours in his room attempting to think, to deal with his memories of the
torture and near-rape and murder that Draco had done, and trying to understand
why he wanted to excuse them more than anything.

�� Well, all
right, so he knew why he wanted to
excuse them. That didn't mean that it was a noble or honorable reason, or one
he wanted to admit to himself.

�� "What?"
he shouted. He had thought that Hermione, and Ron if he had come back for the
evening, would understand his need to be alone.

�� The door
opened, and Hermione's head appeared around it. She was pale in a way that made
Harry wince and regret shouting. He didn't want to hurt his friends any more
than he really wanted to blame Draco for what he had done under the curse's
influence. It was just hard to think of a way of dealing with�everything.

�� "Harry,
I'm sorry," Hermione began.

�� "No, I
am," Harry said, and smiled at her. "It must be something important,
or you wouldn't have knocked like that. What is it?"

�� "Malfoy
is here," Hermione said, eyes so big that they
looked like brown suns, and Harry groaned as every burden on his shoulders
suddenly became twice as complicated.

*

�� Draco
knocked on the front door of Harry's house again and stood there, waiting with
a small smile on his face. Ordinarily, he might have felt humiliated that Harry
was making him, a Malfoy, wait, but in this case, he was within the wards that
would keep him from the sight of anyone passing by, and the only ones who would
know of his potential humiliation were the people inside the house.

�� Which,
granted, could include Harry's friends. But Draco had greater things to worry
about when it came to them, such as the Dark curse that he had used on Weasley,
than a momentary and fleeting experience of being forced to stand outside.

�� He had also
briefly had the thought that Harry might be hiding from him. Draco had sneered
at it the first time it appeared, and banished it to its proper place in the
back of his head. He really didn't think that Harry was doing that. If he was,
then he deserved to be left behind by Draco, who was ready to face and think
about and challenge what lay between them.

�� Draco
snorted a bit at that thought. He wondered how long this reckless confidence
would last. He had been sent into near-ecstasy by having challenged his father
and walked away, a result he wouldn't have expected before the curse, but he knew
a refusal from Harry could dash his good mood as easily.

�� Then
Weasley opened the door, and Draco discovered another thing that could.

�� His mind
filled with a blazing vision of Weasley standing in the lab with his hand on
Harry's shoulder, his expression smug as he watched Draco. It was so strong
that it actually blotted out the picture of Weasley's face as Draco saw it here
and now.

�� The
jealousy took his limbs over and jerked them like a puppet's. Draco knocked
Weasley backwards, pressing him against the wall opposite the door, growling
under his breath as he held his wand against Weasley's throat.

�� "Have
you touched him?" he hissed.

�� "Look
down, Malfoy," was what Weasley said, his eyes narrowed. Draco felt the
pressure of the wand between his ribs then.

�� Draco knew
he should have hesitated, or backed away, especially because Weasley was acting
with unusual restraint for an Auror with a grudge against Malfoys. But he
couldn't. When he tried to take a breath, the jealousy constricted his chest.
He could feel, with the same diamond-edged clarity that that emotion had given
him when he was still under the curse, the suspicion cutting into his mind that
Weasley had taken Harry to bed the moment Draco was out of the picture.

�� "I
want to know," he said, his vision bursting with images like sunrises,
"if you've touched him." His voice was stunningly calm. That would
have reassured him more if he could have pulled his hand and his wand away from
Weasley's throat.

�� "We
give criminals a warning," Weasley said. He remained steady, too, and
Draco knew in the back of his mind--the part that always stayed rational, now,
the part that had fully escaped the curse--that Weasley's tranquility was more
real than his. He had been trained to handle dangerous Dark wizards. Draco was
running off instinct and magic. He still didn't care. "We tell them to put
down their wands and surrender. Given that you're important to Harry--God knows
why--I'm going to give you the chance to do that, even though you attacked me. You'll
back away if you know what's good for you."

�� Draco was
still drunk with rage, and incapable of paying attention to his advice. He
didn't even pay that much to the pounding of footsteps that heralded the
arrival of Granger in another doorway. She put one hand over her mouth as she
stared at them, and then whirled and ran away. It didn't matter. Draco doubted
she would go far with her husband, or lover, or whatever he was, in danger, and
as long as she didn't, then he could track her down and do what had to be done
if she'd slept with Harry.

�� Harry. The lust caused him to shiver,
stuck his joints full of ice-tipped needles, and made him sigh all at once. But
he had to deal with the threats to his sleeping with Harry before he could
actually do it, and therefore, he made himself focus.

�� "I
can't," he whispered. "You know that I can't, where Harry is
concerned."

�� Weasley
suddenly looked more interested than frightened, which was not the way, as far
as Draco knew, that it was supposed to work. "I had thought he'd mostly
cured you," he muttered. "And that it was the curse
that was responsible for your Dark and obsessive behavior. Perhaps not? Perhaps it has some other origin, some other
means of continuation?"

�� "Such
big words," Draco sneered, but he was watching Weasley carefully now.
Someone who could speak like that rather than cower with Draco's wand near
their neck was someone who might strike back just when Draco thought he had him properly subdued.

�� "I
wonder," Weasley breathed, "if we should have blamed you for more of
what happened than we did. That's it, isn't it? You had us fooled, thinking it
was that bloody curse, but it wasn't. Perhaps Nova Cupiditas wasn't the spell cast on
you, which would explain why Harry cured it so easily. I never did trust that.
I mean, I love Harry, but--"��

�� Draco
snarled the first spell that came to mind, the spell that had destroyed several
of the Mudbloods in the meadow who had captured Harry.

�� He wasn't
halfway through the spell when someone cast one that knocked his wand free.
Draco spun around, his eyes locking on the one who had dared to do that, the
one who stood at the head of the stairs with his wand in his hand and his hair
flyaway around his head--

�� Harry.

*

�� Harry
couldn't believe the tableau he saw when he came around the corner. Ron, held
captive by Draco? Harry would have thought it more likely to be the other way
around, since Ron had reason to dislike Draco because of the curse he'd cast on
him.

�� And then he
recognized the glaze in Draco's eyes and the shimmer of rage that practically
shone around him, and reacted as he knew he should
have done in the past, taking Draco's wand away with a practiced Expelliarmus.

�� Draco
whipped around to face him, and his demeanor changed at once, remarkably. He
smirked, and then began to stalk forwards with fluid, rolling motions of his
hips, his eyes so wide that Harry wondered if was trying to fake innocence or
simply wasn't able to contain all his emotions.

�� "Hullo,
Harry," he murmured. "You see what being without you does to
me?"

�� Harry held
his ground, reminded himself that there was little that Draco could do to him
with his wand in Harry's possession and the curse reduced in strength, and
answered calmly. "A few days without me shouldn't have done that to you, Draco.
In fact, we saw each other not long ago. Why are you acting like this now? What
made you lose your mind?" He could see Ron beyond Draco, his wand and one
eyebrow raised in question. Harry shook his head furiously. Ron snorted in
indignation and probably disbelief, but lowered his wand.

�� "Coming
here did it." Draco looked up at him with eyes that were once again blown,
but more rational than they had been when Nova
Cupiditas was still at full strength. "Being close to your friends again,
knowing that they might be sleeping with you." His lips parted, and
he looked as if he would turn around and try to kill Ron again with the sheer
force of his stare.

�� Harry
cursed under his breath. He hadn't anticipated this, had no idea why it was
happening, and needed Draco near to cast the spells that would let him
construct a coherent theory. He held his hand out. "All right,
Draco," he said, trying to speak with the serene authority that he would
have liked to really feel. "Come here, and we'll see what we can do to
repair this."

�� Draco
walked towards him as carefully as though the floor was full of splinters, and
willingly grasped Harry's offered hand. His skin burned with heat, Harry noted,
and cursed again. He had thought he'd done a better job than this.

�� "What's
happening to me?" Draco asked. His voice was less impassioned than it had
been a few seconds ago, Harry noticed at once. He sighed in relief. He didn't
want to think about what Ron would have done if Draco had continued as wild as
he had been before.

�� "That's
what we're going to try and discover," Harry said soothingly, leading him
into the lab. Hermione was on the stairs now, staring at them as if she was
trying to figure out what incantation would solve the problem. Draco saw her
and at once drew nearer Harry, his grip on him tightening to the point of pain.

�� Harry
caught Hermione's gaze and, very firmly, shook his head. When she opened her
mouth to protest, he narrowed his eyes, and she gave in and bowed her head
until it looked as though her hair would sweep across her waist.

�� Harry sighed
again. He knew that Hermione was worried about him, the same way Ron was, and
didn't want to leave him alone with Draco. But it really was best if he could
solve this problem alone.

�� "I
agree," Draco murmured into his ear, and Harry started as he realized that
he must have spoken the words aloud. He would have to watch that, he thought.
Draco was likely to suffer unless Harry was in control of his every word and
action.

�� Pain
touched him and didn't touch him at the thought. Yes, it would be horrible to
think that he hadn't done his job right after all, and because he might be
responsible for his friends' suffering in the future.

�� But he
couldn't deny that it would be wonderful if he could resume his relationship
with Draco on a footing of helpfulness, which would confuse them both less than
the kind of bond they had right now.

*

�� Draco was
glad to feel the jealousy clearing from his mind as they came down into the
lab. He could think and feel, now, and remember what his original purpose had
been in coming to Harry's house. He wanted to find out whether Harry would feel
able to date him--fuck him, be with him, Draco wasn't picky about the
designation--knowing that some of Draco's actions might be controlled, still,
by the curse.

�� And now he has graphic proof, and I reckon
that I'll have less trouble getting him to commit to a choice, Draco
thought, allowing himself to be turned around in the
middle of the lab so that he was looking into Harry's eyes.

�� "How
often do these emotions come to you?" Harry asked, as if he were a Healer,
peering into Draco's face and frowning. He had raised a mask of cool
indifference already, Draco saw, amazed. Of course, it probably helped that he
would have to deal with Draco as a human being, otherwise. "The
jealousy and the lust? Which is stronger? Does anything seem to prompt
them?"

�� "The
jealousy, thoughts of you with someone else," Draco said. "I think it
was stronger today because I saw someone I thought could have been sleeping with you, rather than thinking about it in
the manner of a fantasy."

�� Harry
frowned. "Would it help if I reassured you that I would never sleep with
Ron?"

�� "No,"
Draco admitted, and caught Harry's wrist before he could pull his hands free of
Draco's shoulders. "The things I see in my mind are ridiculous and
far-fetched. I know that. But I think the only thing that could combat them is
reality."

�� Harry shook
his head. "I don't understand. You want to speak to Ron and Hermione and
hear them testify about how strong their marriage is, about how they'll never
want anyone but each other?"

�� "You
don't understand because you choose not to understand," Draco murmured,
and shifted closer. "I mean that nothing else will content me but the
reality of sleeping with you."

�� He waited
to see what Harry would do with that. He could have leaned forwards and
initiated a kiss, but he thought he had done quite enough of that lately. If
Harry wanted him, he should sometimes take
the lead and say so.

�� Harry
closed his eyes. His breathing was very fast, Draco noted, and his face was
very pale. Yet he didn't try to move away, and Draco didn't think that all came from Harry fearing that doing
so would unleash another blast of the curse-influenced emotions. "We need
to figure out some way around that," Harry murmured. "If they're only
strong when you're near me, then staying away from me should do the
trick."

�� "They're
strongest near you," Draco
corrected, squeezing down on Harry's wrist as a punishment for that particular
misconception. "That doesn't mean they're nonexistent elsewhere."

�� "Oh,"
Harry said, and his eyes opened. They were so full of distress that Draco would
have asked what was wrong, except that, first, he knew perfectly well, and,
second, Harry was doing most of this to himself. "Then I don't--Draco, I'm
sorry, but I'm going to have to do some more research and try to figure out a
more permanent cure."

�� "Yes,"
Draco agreed, letting go of Harry's wrist so that he could stroke his shoulder.
The feel of rough cloth beneath his hand and warm skin beneath that wasn't so
different from anyone else's Draco had ever felt, but it made him shudder with
pleasure anyway. Most of his feelings towards Harry weren't rational, Draco
knew, and the most rational thing to do with that was to admit it and go on.
"In the meantime, let me tell you what I've decided. The decision remains
the same whether or not you manage to completely cure me."

*

�� Harry felt
a ripple of dread travel through him. For a moment, he was sure that Draco was
going to say that they should stay away from each other while Harry did what
research he could.

�� Then he
scolded himself for stupidity. Draco already knew they would need nearness for
the research to take effect in the first place, and why would he have come
here, instead of owling, if he wanted to stay away?

�� Harry
licked his lips, told himself to act like a man and not like the whimpering
child he half-felt himself to be, and nodded. "All
right. What did you decide?"

�� Draco
smiled. It was the dazzling smile Harry had seen hints of during their
confrontation yesterday, but it had a darker undertone, too, which reminded
Harry of the way Draco had looked and behaved after Harry had cast the spell
that temporarily banished the magical infatuation. His fingers played lightly
along the edges of Harry's shoulders, down his neck, along his arms. Harry held
himself firm in spite of that, and didn't look away from Draco's face.

�� "I
decided that I can live with the uncertainty," Draco said.

�� "Huh?"
Not his most brilliant moment, Harry thought, but he'd been distracted by
Draco's touches.

�� "I can
live with the uncertainty, the fact that the spell controls some of my emotions
but not all." Draco was regarding him with calm, patient eyes, leaning
back on air now as though Harry was a Potions experiment. Harry hated the
desperation that coiled through him. Here he thought he'd been so composed and
collected, and now he wanted nothing more than for Draco to continue touching
him until they fell into bed because they had no choice. "I cast a spell
that allowed me to see exactly how
much influence the spell has over me. It's immense, but subtle. It would be
impossible for me to question every action and know whether it's coming from
the curse or from me, unless I'm feeling an immediate blast of jealousy or lust
when I do it."

�� "Uh." Harry bowed his head and closed his eyes.
The desperation still turned in his stomach, but now it had another cause.
"Draco--I need to do something else. Something that will give you back your freedom."

�� "Complete
freedom is an illusion," Draco said repressively, crushing his fingers
down against Harry's arms. "That's what I've realized, and what I need you
to--no, what I came to see if you can realize.
I'm influenced by the things my parents taught me, by my pure-blood heritage,
by what happened during the war. There's no way you can get past everything
that has happened to you during your life, because you are those experiences. I can live with that, with wanting you and
not knowing exactly why. Can you?"

�� Harry
swallowed. His throat felt so dry that it was difficult. "Draco," he
said.

�� Draco
rolled his eyes, and the expression was comforting and not, at the same time.
Harry was trying to remember if he had ever seen Draco look exactly like this,
with exactly that expression on his
face, so that he could know how much of the real Draco was facing him now, and
how much was the Draco under the spell of either his hormones or the curse.

�� "I
know what you're going to say," he said. "You're going to apologize
again how horrible and how stupid you are for managing to only cure half of a curse that would have meant
instant death for anyone it was cast on, before. And I'm going to stop you,
because you're not stupid and I don't want you to act like it. No one I'm
attracted to is allowed to be unintelligent."

�� "I
wasn't going to say that," Harry argued, but weakly, because he completely
had been. "I was going to say--has it occurred to you that there would
never have been an attraction to me in the first place, if the curse hadn't
happened? Do you want to be together only because the Seekers of Justice
brought us together?"

�� "Of
course not," Draco responded, and Harry's heart leaped and sank at the
same time, which was an uncomfortable sensation. "That's why I've made the
decision to tolerate the uncertainty. For now. Can you
make the same one? Can you make this your
choice, or are your hopes and fears always going to get in the way?"
He stepped back, drawing his hands away from Harry's body as though he wanted
to be sure that Harry made the decision free of his own lust. His eyes were
challenging.

�� Harry took
a slow, deep breath. "We probably shouldn't be discussing this," he
said. "We should probably get rid of as much of the curse as possible,
first."

�� "If we
set a limit," Draco said calmly.

�� Harry shook
his head, unable to stop himself from frowning. "If we
set a limit to what? How many times we're going to kiss between the
times that I'm working on research?"

�� Draco
laughed. Harry's body reacted unfairly to that laugh. "No," he said.
"A limit on how many times you're going to try and remove the curse. The
problem with deciding that you'll remove it completely is that it might not be
possible, and you'll only blame yourself and convince yourself that it is possible if we don't set a limit.
Four tries, I think. You're only allowed to blame yourself four times. After
that, if we haven't managed it, then we live with the consequences of the curse
the way that I would have lived with scars if I'd mutilated myself."

�� "This
is a bit more serious than scars,"
Harry hissed. "You could have killed Ron."

�� Draco
smiled. "Next time, we'll know that. That's the first time we've been
around your friends since the curse was halved. We didn't know. But we can
prepare and we can make sure that we take the right precautions next
time." He shook his head when Harry stared at him. "I don't know what
else you want me to do, Harry."

�� "Why
are you the one making all the
decisions?" Harry asked. He knew that he sounded mulish, and he couldn't
help himself. Draco seemed to be arranging their future together very prettily,
except that he'd left Harry out of it.

�� "Because
you don't want to make them," Draco said bluntly. "Because you're
afraid, and you'll only hide your head and whinge about hurting me if I
don't."

*

�� Draco
wondered if he should smile at the expression on Harry's face, or if that would
hurt Harry's feelings. But he had only spoken the truth as he saw it. Harry would dither forever about making
important choices if someone didn't force his hand.

�� And Draco
still felt the impatient burn in himself that he had when he departed the
Manor. Yes, the jealousy being that strong at the sight of Harry's friends was
an unpleasant surprise. But he didn't see why he should give up, stop seeing
Harry, and brood in a corner about how things would never get better, so he
might as well marry the woman his father wanted him to. He was at least going
to grasp at the chances he had along
the way.

�� He also refused
to waste time worrying, as Harry wanted him to, about where and why this
attraction had entered his life. Yes, with the curse. Yes, he would have been
different if the Seekers of Justice had never cast Nova Cupiditas on him.

�� But he
didn't know that things would be better, necessarily. Perhaps
he would have married to his father's specifications and been bored the rest of
his life. Perhaps the Seekers of Justice would have cast the curse on
him later, pointing him towards someone else--someone who couldn't save him.
You couldn't know what would happen, which made the yearning for a different
past pointless.

�� He held
Harry's eyes and waited, patiently, for him to realize that, too. But Harry
stood there worrying his lip and looking so absurd that Draco sighed.

�� "Two
decisions you need to make," he said. "Can you live with the
uncertainty? Can you live with only trying four times to solve the curse?"

�� Harry gave
a quick nod, which didn't actually agree to anything, but pressed on before
Draco could say anything. "As long as you try to control
yourself around Ron, Hermione, and anyone else. I don't want you to
curse someone and land in prison."

�� Draco
inclined his head. "You've made sacrifices for me, and I appreciate
that," he said, in the purring tone that many people had told him was his
most seductive. "I'll do my best. Now. Your decision."

�� Harry
closed his eyes as if he was about to jump off a cliff. Draco wondered if he
should make a joke about being as hard as one, and then decided against it.

*

�� What am I doing? I might hurt him.

�� But he
already had. Harry could hear the screams Draco had uttered when he suffered
under the breaking curse, because of the connections that Harry hadn't noticed
in time.

�� And yet,
Draco was willing to give him another chance, and the only thing he needed from
Harry was an answer.

�� Harry felt
as if he was jumping into the future, and for a moment, bitterly resented the
Seekers of Justice that had made this decision necessary.

�� Or is it? Draco could have decided to ignore
me for the rest of his life. I could have let him be prosecuted, or at least
arrested. I could have decided he was too dangerous to help and left him in St.
Mungo's that first day.

�� Their
choices had already been changing and affecting things. If the curse was out of
their control, other things might not be.

�� "Yes,"
said a voice that didn't sound like his own. "I agree."

�� Harry
jumped.

*

�� Review
responses can be found at http://lomonaaerenrr.livejournal.com/10107.html
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Nova Cupiditas