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Practicing Liars	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 63257 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
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Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Twenty-Three�Resistance

�� Draco had
foreseen how it would be. Madam Pomfrey bustled and clucked around them and
smeared some kind of paste over the cut on Potter�s arm that smelled awful but finally
made the bleeding stop. Then she stood there, looking at him and shaking her
head slightly. Potter gave her a sheepish smile and curled himself further into
the blankets.

�� Draco
narrowed his eyes. Madam Pomfrey probably thought that looked cute, but he wasn�t
so sure. From his vantage point, it looked as though Potter was getting in a
position where he felt ready to defend himself.

�� What are
we going to do with you, Mr. Potter?� Madam Pomfrey asked, but without malice. �I�ve
lost count of the number of times that you injure yourself each year.�

�� It wasn�t
my fault this time!�

�� Draco
blinked. He could have sworn, when he dragged Potter out of the dungeon, that
he was either going to start crying or fall apart any minute. But now his face
was bright, his expression half-defiant, and he even wrapped his arms around
his knees and looked pleadingly at Pomfrey, as if he knew he deserved a
punishment but didn�t want one.

�� It was a
far more complete transformation than Draco had been prepared to witness. It
was one thing to know that Potter lied a lot and another thing to see how he did it.

�� Maybe I only noticed because I wasn�t the
one he was showing the lies off to, for once, Draco thought slowly. He
could see his mother watching from the bed across the room�he always knew when
she was awake by the way her eyelids twitched and fluttered, though at the
moment she was pretending to be asleep�and that kept him from asking questions
the way he would have truly liked to. Maybe Potter�s lies were obvious enough
now, if Draco was seeing them all over the place, that Madam Pomfrey would also
notice.

�� But she
just shook her head and clucked her tongue again and said, �Well, I reckon that
at least it wasn�t a Quidditch accident this time.�

�� Potter
grinned at her. �I provide variety, don�t I?�

�� And Pomfrey
laughed and agreed and acted as though this was all a fine joke, while Potter
played along, expertly manipulating her into telling him that his injury wasn�t
important. It was one of the most skillful games of that Draco had ever seen, heightened
by the fact that he didn�t think Potter knew
it was a manipulation. He�d probably said the same things for so long,
things designed to make people look the other way when he came in with an
injury, that they were second nature to him by now.

�� Draco could
feel his eyes narrowing more and more the longer he thought about that.

�� Well, he�ll find that things have changed.

�� Potter
glanced at him then, and his smile vanished. He stared for a minute, looking
queasy, before he deliberately faced Madam Pomfrey again and continued talking.
But the way he kept craning his neck around to stare at Draco, almost against
his will, showed that he was uneasy.

�� Draco
waited until Madam Pomfrey had advised Harry to rest for a few hours and
stepped into the other room. He took the chance to walk over to his mother�s
bed. She opened her eyes when she saw him coming and regarded him soberly.
Draco recognized her curiosity and her concern for him even through the mask of
her glamour.

�� He shook
his head. �I�m going to try something I think will work,� he whispered. �Please
don�t interfere. Roll over and go back to sleep. Or leave the room if Potter
insists on that.�

�� His mother
studied his face for so long that Draco thought she might not agree. Then she
nodded and turned on her side. Draco lingered a minute, trying to make it look
as if he was watching her in concern, and then faced Potter.

�� Potter had
closed his eyes and curled up with a perfectly angelic expression on his face.

�� Draco
stared, while reluctant admiration rose up in him. The bastard. Of course he probably wants the protection of Madam
Pomfrey, and if I try to �wake him up� and make him discuss things, she�ll come
out and scold me for harassing a patient. It�s the best defense he could have
against a conversation right now.

�� But Draco
hadn�t been in Slytherin for six years without learning something. He stepped
up to Potter�s bed and bent down to whisper to him.

�� You know
that we have to talk. I can understand why
you don�t want to talk about it. But that won�t make the problems go away.
They�ll only build up until the next time that you lash out and almost hurt me.�

�� Potter�s
shoulders tensed. Draco nodded in satisfaction. He didn�t like having to remind
Potter of that, any more, he thought, than Potter had liked lashing out. But it
was necessary to do something to show
him that Draco wouldn�t simply forget about it and march away into the
distance, and, especially, that Professor Snape wasn�t going to forget about
it.

�� I�m not
going to try to shame you into this by talking about Gryffindor courage,� Draco
continued quietly. Of course not. I�ll
shame you by appealing to your conscience instead. �Consider, though, what
happened to you. The weight of the lies bore you down until you almost killed
someone. Is that the kind of person you want to be? Are any secrets worth
protection like that?�

�� Potter�s
breathing had sped up, but he didn�t lift his head or look at Draco. Draco didn�t
mind. He would leave the words to brew in Potter�s thoughts. Sometimes, the
best potions were those left untended for a short time.

�� Farewell,�
he murmured, and let himself touch Potter�s fringe, his fingers skimming along
lightly above the scar. Potter shuddered and twitched.

�� Good. Let him. One of the things they
hadn�t talked about was how Potter had somehow melted Draco�s Dark Mark from
his skin. Draco didn�t think it was urgent compared to the way that Potter was
resigned to dying or was ignoring the fact that he was Professor Snape�s son,
but he would like to see it addressed.

�� He left the
hospital wing then, his back very straight, nodding to his mother as he passed.

*

�� Enter, my
dear boy.�

�� The words
proved to Severus that Albus knew who it was before he opened the door, but
that meant nothing. Of course he would. Severus did not think anyone had ever
truly managed to ride up the moving staircase unobserved while Dumbledore was
Headmaster.

�� Certain
plans for how he would do so tried to emerge in Severus�s mind. He laid them
firmly aside. Perhaps someday he would need to know how to approach Albus
quietly and without notice.

�� Perhaps someday soon.

�� But today,
he had come on a mission in which the sight of his face and the sound of his
words would be all-important.

�� Why,� he
asked as he let the door fall shut behind him, �did you compel Potter to promise
that he would not tell the secret of the Horcruxes to anyone else?
Specifically, the secret of his being one? Did you not realize what that would
do to him?�

�� Albus�s
face changed. Severus had overcome most of his fear regarding werewolves some
time ago, or he would have lashed out. It was as close to a transformation from
one being into another as he had seen from someone who did grow four legs at
the full moon.

�� Albus
leaned back in his chair and apparently attempted to regain command of himself.
Severus had never seen him fail so badly at that, either. After several moments
of opening and closing his eyes, Albus could find nothing more profound to say
than, �He told you?�

�� Severus
clenched his hands together. Calm.
Control. He will be all the more hurt if you can hold onto your own temper and
wield your words as a whip to lash him with.

�� Under
extreme duress,� he said. �You can be proud of him for that.� He paused, then
added, �Even if you cannot be proud of him for the mindless obedience that so
nearly led to his death.�

�� Albus
lowered his head and shook it. �Ah, Severus,� he whispered, in the voice of a
bleeding man. �Do you truly believe that I would have condemned Harry to death
if I had found another solution? I love the boy.� He fastened his eyes on Severus�s
face, pleading for compassion.

�� Too bad for him that I have so little to
give. Severus folded his arms and sneered at Albus. �There are other ways,�
he said. �You could have come to me and asked about potions that could have
purged a piece of one wizard�s soul from another�s body.�

�� I have looked!� Albus sat upright and slammed
one arm into the desk. Severus wondered if it was supposed to impress him. �Among
potions, among curses, among the Dark Arts, among the ancient spells that so
few living now remember. If there are a few ways to destroy Horcruxes�basilisk venom
and Fiendfyre are the only reliable ones�still, they have their
vulnerabilities. I thought, surely, that there must be a way to rescue someone
from having to stay one until he was dead.� He closed his eyes. �There is none.�

�� You cannot
have read every book in the world,� Severus said. �There is another solution. I
know that. I will find it. My potions can do wondrous things, Dumbledore,
things you have hardly dreamed of.�

�� There is no other way, and I have been
investigating for nearly a year, since I first began to suspect, �Albus
snapped. �And the cost�oh, my dear boy, the cost of our thinking that we have
destroyed the Horcrux when it is not so�� He shut his mouth tight and shook his
head, his face lined with anguish.

�� Severus
sneered. �Like the cost,� he asked, �of choosing to trust someone who most of
your prot�g�s would have assumed was unable to repent?�

�� It might
have hurt us, if I had been wrong about you,� Albus whispered. He refused to
open his eyes. �It would not have destroyed us. It would destroy the world if
we are wrong about Harry. For the sake of everyone, Severus, I dare not let him
live.� He opened his eyes, and a sheen of tears moistened them. �For the
greater good.�

�� Severus
stood in silence until he was sure that Albus would say no more. Then he said, �I
will deny you your applause.�

�� Albus sat
up straight again, his face wary and puzzled. �I would hardly expect applause
from anyone for this sad necessity,� he began.

�� You have
managed the lives of others like a play,� Severus said quietly. �Here an enemy,
there a supporter. Here the misguided fool who will learn better in time. I
have played that role, and I suspect that you think Fudge destined for it as
well. Here, the heroic sacrifice.� He prowled closer, though he halted a good
distance from the desk. Albus was still a powerful wizard. Severus had to hurt
him more than he angered him, so that he would not think of striking back. �And
yourself as the genuinely good mentor, the war leader, making the hard choices,
the choices no one else can make, covering yourself with dark glory.�

�� Do you think,�
Albus breathed, �that I would not sacrifice my heroic reputation in an instant,
if it would enable Harry to live?�

�� You do not
need to act for the greater good,�
Severus said softly. �That is a pretense you turn to when you feel overwhelmed
or troubled in a way that you think there is no way out of. If you truly
followed the philosophy that you now offer me as an excuse for butchering
Potter, you would never have let Lupin into the school, because of the danger he
could pose to other students. But you did. And you sacrificed me to your
precious pet Gryffindors. I have never forgotten that, Albus. You neither
enforced the rules fairly nor showed that you valued individualism. Instead,
you value individuals over other individuals.
You have your preferences like anyone. You act according to them. And that,� he said, slowing his speech
deliberately, though he was glad to find that he had not exploded into the
hurried, angry breaths that his voice sounded as if it had taken on in his
head, �is the reason that you cannot hold the objective position you pretend to
have achieved.�

�� Albus had a
condescending smile on his face now. �I must admit that I am glad you are
finally seeing the similarities between yourself and Harry, Severus,� he said. �But,�
and, as Severus had known he would, he altered his smile to a stern one, �I
must ask that you leave your personal situation behind, and stop making
inappropriate comparisons. What I did was wrong, but it was done long ago, and
that wrong is irretrievable. If you continue to let your anger over the matter
cloud your judgment, then I fear that I can no longer trust you, either.� He
looked at Severus in a way that Severus knew was meant to make him flinch and
slink to the other side of the room like a kicked dog.

�� Severus
waited to let the bile build in his belly. Albus narrowed his eyes slightly as
the moments passed and Severus did not speak.

�� Good. Let me disconcert him.

�� I am good
at seeing similarities between us now,� he said. You will not know, at the moment, how good. He had decided that if
he told Albus that Potter was his son, it was possible Albus would not only
lose some of his interest in rescuing him�if Potter wasn�t the son of his
precious pet Gryffindor�but also accuse Severus of being too involved with the
fate of his son to see clearly. And with that line of argument, Albus stood a
good chance of turning Potter against Severus completely. �I know that you do
not care about either of us enough to really fight for us.�

�� Albus�s
face went grey. �What would you have had me do?� he whispered. �I told you,
Severus, I acknowledge that I was wrong, but that was years ago.�

�� Severus
leaned forwards. �But you were not much younger then than you are now,� he
responded, making sure every word hit like a hammer blow. �You were wise. You
could have seen some other way out of the situation than to hush it up
completely and remind me�as I stood shaking before your desk, having nearly
died�that I owed a life-debt to James Potter and should be grateful I had
escaped with as much as I had.�

�� We are not
talking about you,� Albus said, making an obvious effort to bridle and saddle
the conversation again. �We were talking about Harry.�

�� Yes,�
Severs said. �Whom you have told the truth to. Whom you have convinced that he
must die, that there is no other solution for him, no other way to survive and
live. The boy is a hero, Albus, through
and through, trained to be that way.� And
raised that way, he thought, but he had no intention of sharing Potter�s
upbringing with Albus until it was time to, either. He found himself more and
more greedy of secrets about his son. He would
decide who else he told, and at the moment, Albus was not on the list. �You
knew what his reaction would be. Just as you knew what mine would be when you
manipulated me into hating James Potter more fervently rather than questioning
you about why you couldn�t discipline Black.�

�� I did not
want Harry to become suicidal,� Albus said harshly, propping himself up on his
desk with one elbow. �That you accuse me of such things is worse than
dishonest, Severus.�

�� But you
knew what his reaction would be,� Severus repeated, softly. �You claim a
position of wisdom that will allow you to be sure that there is no way to
destroy the Horcrux embedded in the boy, but you are not wise enough to know
how much he would take your words to heart? Why tell him now, if not because you
wanted him resigned to the thought of dying and willing to go through with it for
the sake of the world?�

�� I had
tried everything I could.� Albus�s voice cracked, finally. �I had sought and
sought a way out that would not involve killing Harry, and I could find nothing. I thought the boy deserved to
know the truth, rather than be led like a lamb to the slaughter, with no
choice. At least this way, he understands how important it is, and he goes
consenting.�

�� He goes hopeless!� Severus allowed his voice to rise
this time, and took a step closer to Albus�s desk. �Why is consent so important
to you, Albus, if not because it makes you
feel better, less of a monster? You value noble resignation so much that you
must inspire it where it does not exist. It is as I said. You have designated
roles for each of us, and because you thought that Potter was not playing his
sufficiently, you told him about this.�

�� You know
nothing of my motives, Severus,� Albus said, with a gentleness more dangerous
than open anger. �Do not presume that you can tell why I might have done
something.�

�� I act on
your own words,� Severus retorted. �You said that you told him because you
couldn�t think of another solution. But there are still options, in that case.
One is to keep searching. Another is
to tell him the truth but to bolster him, to admit that you have no solution yet
but you may find one, and involve him in the search. Teach him to defend and
value his own life, and you stand a better chance of not having to sacrifice anyone
at all. And yet, it seems that you would rather the boy march to his death with
his head held high than feed him on a bit of hope.�

�� It would
be false hope,� Albus snapped. �There
is nothing that can change his fate.�

�� Again, you
do not know that,� Severus said. �I already know that you are fallible, that there
are lapses in your wisdom which make it arrogant for you to set yourself up
like this. And in the interests of compassion, could you not lie? Why is truth
more important than Potter�s mental health?�

�� Albus
closed his eyes and put a hand over his face. Severus waited, feeling the
stillness and coldness of a tombstone invade him. It was when he felt like that
that he did his best work in hurting others.

�� Because,�
Albus whispered at last, �I did not wish to see the look in his eyes when he
realized that I had been lying to him and that no hope remained.�

�� Severus
knew he need say no more. Albus would be torn apart by the realization of his
own weakness�he had sacrificed, or would have sacrificed, Potter for his peace
of mind and no higher goal�and nothing Severus could say was likely to reach
him more strongly. He bowed his head and took his leave.

�� His
footsteps turned towards the hospital wing. He hesitated on the way there,
wondering if he truly wanted to look Potter in the eye at the moment.

�� Yes, he decided, and began walking once
more. I have forced his secrets from him,
and he nearly killed me. Those are issues that must be addressed.

*

�� No matter
how long he lay there, sleep wouldn�t come.

�� Harry
rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. His eyes felt dry, and
burned. He rubbed them absently.

�� He had
almost killed Snape.

�� He�couldn�t
deal with that.

�� He had to
do something to make up for it, to
show that he knew it was wrong. But it had to be something that would make Snape
stay away from him at the same time, and not cause him to start hoping that
they would be father and son someday.

If
he even wants that. He must hate me for nearly killing him.

�� But he didn�t speak as if he hated me.

�� Harry
shivered. The blankets felt too thin, even though he knew from experience in
the hospital wing that they were perfectly fine. His brain was unsettled,
jumping and cavorting around his head. He couldn�t get warm.

�� He hated
himself badly enough that he wished he could go to sleep and never wake up.

�� But that probably wouldn�t destroy the
Horcrux, he thought, and rubbed fiercely at his scar for a minute before he
made himself stop.

�� Slowly, his
thoughts stopped jumping, and he had to consider the thing he hated most: the
fact that Snape and Draco might have a point about his secrets making him crazy
if he had tried to kill one person and hurt another.

�� Harry
closed his eyes. His pain about those two things was going to eat him alive, he
was sure of it. It hadn�t even hurt this much when he thought that he was
responsible for Sirius�s death.

�� I don�t want to be the kind of person who
does that.

�� But he didn�t
want to be the kind of person who lay back and let Snape hurt him just because
he felt guilty, either. If his uncle and his aunt and his cousin had done it,
then why would Snape, who was also related to him by blood, be any different?

�� He said�he said that he wouldn�t. But how
can I trust him? He also went into my mind and made me reveal my secrets to
Draco.

�� But now
that Draco knew about it, wouldn�t he help Harry stop Snape if Snape tried to
hurt him? And Harry wouldn�t feel he had to hide that the way he�d hidden his
past with the Dursleys. Snape was a more powerful wizard than he was and older,
so that meant it wouldn�t look like weakness if Harry suffered because of him,
the way it would look like weakness if he suffered because of Muggles.

�� A sound in
the doorway of the hospital wing made him open his eyes and turn his head.

�� Snape stood
there, his face so pale and uncertain that Harry gained a little bit of
confidence back.

�� I thought he knew everything and had
everything under control, but maybe he doesn�t. Maybe parts of this are as new
to him as they are to me. I wanted to think that, but I didn�t dare.

�� Harry still
didn�t think he could trust Snape, not completely. But he had gone as far as he
could in the direction of running away from him and keeping secrets, and
nothing but the worst had happened.

�� Perhaps it
was time to try trusting him. Just for a little while. Just about some things.

�� Just in a
way that meant he could still easily retreat if it turned out Snape was Uncle
Vernon over again.

�� Snape came forwards,
his robes billowing around him, and halted five feet away, looking at Harry. He
didn�t try to come closer, for which Harry was grateful.

�� I am going
to find a method,� Snape said softly, �whether that be potion or otherwise,
that will allow you to survive the defeat of the Dark Lord.�

�� Harry
swallowed. He didn�t know what to think. The words were delivered in that iron
tone that always meant Snape was making a promise.

�� To me? Why does he want to?

�� But it
seemed he wanted to, or was awfully good at pretending he did, and Harry decided
that, perhaps, he could go along with this even if he didn�t understand Snape�s
reasons. After all, he had never fully understood why his relatives hated him,
either.

�� All right,�
he whispered.

�� Snape
conjured a chair and placed it behind him. He could probably see the way Harry
tensed whenever he tried to come closer. Then he turned around and sat down in
it, facing the door of the hospital wing with his wand resting across his lap.

�� Harry
swallowed. He knew Snape had protected him in the past, but it was one thing to
hear about it second-hand from someone else and another to see it happening.

�� Sir?� he
whispered.

�� Snape turned
his head slightly, but otherwise made no sign that he�d heard. That made Harry oddly
comfortable. At least Snape wasn�t trying to press in on him and hug him and do
all sorts of other stupid things.

�� I�m sorry,�
Harry said.

�� His throat
closed up on him, so he couldn�t specify what he meant, but it seemed Snape
didn�t need him to. He nodded and turned around again to face the door, as if
it didn�t matter to him.

�� Or, Harry thought, slowly wrestling his
thoughts into more charitable shapes, as
if he knows that this is a first step and I�ll make up for it more later.

�� With Snape
there, he would have thought he�d lie awake, tense, for the rest of the night,
or at least until Madam Pomfrey came back.

�� Instead, he
didn�t even remember when he fell asleep.��

*

�� tiggator:
Thank you!

�� Mia: Thank
you! In this case, it�s the blood relation that makes it so different. Harry
can only think of family members as either dead and loving, or else alive and
abusing him.

�� k lave
demo: Good guess! Yes, Harry�s lowered defenses for Draco allow Severus access.
He�s thinking about what Draco had to say and that makes him react much better
than he otherwise would when Severus starts speaking to him.

�� At this
point, Severus has no choice but to let Draco help.

�� LoveLee:
Thank you so much! I�m especially glad to hear you say that with a plot that
takes on so many clich�s.

�� jennifer:
Thanks for reviewing.

�� DonnaNoir23:
Well, I do warn for no major character death, so Harry and Snape won�t die. But
I can�t tell you what kind of relationship they have at the end of the story
yet.

�� mucunagos:
Yes, but Snape is a pessimist. ;)

�� Lucky Draco
indeed, but I suspect that he won�t mind.

�� someonenotme:
Thanks!

�� MewMew2:
Thanks! Yeah, that was a typo.

�� SP777: Here�s
the breakthrough! Almost hurting others is the only thing that could make Harry
listen, I think. And now he acknowledges that Snape and Draco were probably
right about him. Of course, any access that he grants Snape is temporary, and
he�ll be watching for mistakes.

�� I keep them
separate because, for me, these are two distinctly separate sets of characters,
and that helps.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Hope you enjoyed it!

�� DTDY: You
joke, but really, I think it�s the only thing that would make Harry listen.
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Practicing Liars