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Ceremonies of Strife	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16218 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money from this writing.

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Chapter
Twenty-Three�Halfway to Forgiveness

�� Harry
stepped into the trainees� library and looked around. His breathing was faster
than he would have liked, making a few of the students glance up at him
curiously, but everyone went back to studying in the next few moments. Some of
their classes had exams, and more than one person who had tried to presume on
the instructors� kindness had found out they didn�t have much.

�� Harry
looked around several times, hunting for the perfect private place for his and
Draco�s conversation. He finally decided that one of the corners a bookshelf
protected was the best they would find. Most of the trainees didn�t like to use
that corner since it contained books most people didn�t use often and was heavy
with dust. Harry wound between the aisles to it and sat down at the table.

�� How should
he greet Draco?

�� He had
thought of trying for a dramatic gesture, like laying his wand on the table and
sitting pointedly back from it, but that could alienate Draco. It was amazing,
all the things that he didn�t think he could do once he admitted that he didn�t
know Draco as well as he�d thought.

�� He studied
the table dubiously, then shook his head. Maybe the best thing to do was sit
back in the chair, upright, paying attention, so Draco would know he took this
meeting seriously, but not looking too anxious, in case that put him off.

�� Harry
managed about five minutes of that before the urge to move became too strong.
He scratched the back of his neck, staring between the shelves at the door of
the library. I wish he would show up
already and get this over with.

�� It had
seemed like a good idea to get here half an hour early, just so he could make
sure he was on time. But in practice, it meant twenty minutes of boredom before
Draco stepped in and gave the library an assessing glare.

�� Harry
hesitated. Should he stand up and wave his hand, or would that be too obvious?
Draco might not want anyone to know that they were apparently getting back
together. But what would happen if he didn�t see Harry at all and concluded
that he�d missed the meeting on purpose?

�� Luckily,
Draco saw him before Harry had to make that decision. His eyes narrowed, as if
he had some particular reason to disapprove of Harry�s choice of seat, but he
stalked gracefully across the library and sat down in the chair across from
Harry. He carried a bag of books with him, and he placed it next to him, one
hand brushing it. Harry wasn�t sure if he wanted to show that he was intent on
studying when their conversation finished, or if that was the way he hid the
Veritaserum.

�� I didn�t
know if you would show up.� Draco�s voice was low and hard-edged.

�� I know,�
Harry said. �Sorry.� He had decided to keep his words as simple as possible,
and to not react when it sounded like Draco was accusing him of lying. The only
way to correct that impression was to take the Veritaserum and tell him what he
needed to hear under the influence of the potion.

�� Draco
waited, though for what Harry didn�t know, his eyes still narrow. Then he
snorted and took the vial of Veritaserum out of his bag. Harry flattened his
hands on the table so he wouldn�t tap his fingers or clench them and show how
nervous he was.

�� Three
drops on your tongue,� Draco said, and handed the vial to him across the table.
�I trust even you can manage that.�

�� Harry
ground his teeth, but all he did was nod and take the vial. He hoped this
worked. Draco�s attitude was frustrating.

�� He
carefully removed the cork, put it down next to him so he would remember what
he�d done with it, and then tipped the vial and shook it. Draco leaned forwards
as if this was the most important thing Harry had ever done, even more so than
their compatible magic training. Harry counted three drops, resisting the temptation
to count them aloud so that Draco would know, and then corked the vial and laid
it down next to him again.

�� The effect
of the Veritaserum was immediately visible. Harry felt as though his mind had
separated into two halves. One half controlled his mouth and waited for
questions, while the rest of him drifted far away. He knew he would speak the
truth and couldn�t control what he said, but that seemed unimportant, somehow.

�� Draco
waited some more. Harry didn�t know what he was waiting for, and it was hard to
care. He would have closed his eyes so that he could enjoy the strange floating
sensation a bit more, but his vision seemed to narrow in on Draco�s mouth.

�� Then
Draco�s lips moved and parted in the first question. Harry would have wagged
his tail if he�d possessed one. As it was, he tried to sit up and look as
helpful as he could.

�� Did you
lie about giving up necromancy?�

�� No,� Harry
said. The word came out in the flat, dead tone that Harry knew questioning with
Veritaserum produced, but that didn�t matter. What mattered was Draco�s
reaction.

*

�� Draco
leaned back in his chair and tried to adopt a cool stare and relaxed pose. His
dignity demanded it.

�� But he
feared that nothing in his demeanor could hide how badly Harry�s answer had
shaken him�at least, not from someone who wasn�t under the influence of a
potion that altered their perceptions of time and the truth and what mattered.
He was glad that Harry had agreed to the Veritaserum questioning.

�� Draco
swallowed. He had banked so much on assuming that Harry�s necromancy had continued that he had nothing left
to take up the slack.

�� Harry
stared at him with his lips slightly parted and his breath whistling through
them, no help at all.

�� He gave up necromancy.

�� Then Draco
reminded himself that he didn�t know why
Harry had given it up, and it was entirely possible that he might disapprove of
Harry�s reasons. He leaned forwards, feeling energized again. �Why did you give
it up?�

�� Because my
friends were watching me,� Harry said.

�� Draco felt
his chest relax and a sneer twist his face. Of course that would be why. And if
he didn�t keep a constant watch on Harry, then would he take it up again? Draco
had no desire to be his lover�s babysitter.

�� And then
because I saw the darkness in Nihil�s mind and realized that I would become
that way if I kept practicing it,� Harry continued, with no change in his tone
or sign that he felt this reason was more important than the other.

�� Draco
winced and cast a quick Privacy Charm. He should have done that in the first
place, he had to admit, since they were talking about necromancy and Harry was
in no position to remind him.

�� But he
hated blaming himself even when he knew it was justified, so he struck out
again. �Why did it take that to convince you?�

�� I wanted
to make it up to the dead,� Harry said simply. �I thought giving them a new life
would help give them back what they were missing.�

�� Draco shut
his eyes and shook his head. �You don�t need to make anything up to the dead,
Harry. They�re dead.�

�� He hadn�t
intended it as a question, but apparently Harry�s dazed brain took it that way.

�� My
godfather died because he went to the Department of Mysteries and fell through
a veil,� Harry said in a dull, dreamy voice. �He was there in the first place
because I believed a vision of Voldemort�s and went there. He was there to
rescue me. So, yes, that one is my
fault, even if the other deaths aren�t, because I caused it.�

�� Draco
clenched one hand into a fist on the table. He wondered what it must have been
like for Harry to see someone who was close to him die, and then decided that
he didn�t want to ask the question. After all, he already knew it had been
severe enough to drive Harry to use Dark Arts, something he never would have
done normally.

�� Do you know him well enough to say that?

�� Draco
blinked, and then nodded. Yes, he thought he did. He had distrusted every piece
of knowledge he had after Harry�s lies, but that had been his immediate
reaction, and an irrational one. At the very least, he could trust what he had
learned about Harry during the years when they weren�t dating and Harry had no
reason to try and impress him.

�� Draco
shifted in irritation. He hated admitting that he was irrational, and he would
have to wait a while before he could come to terms with it, the same way he
would take time to accept Harry�s answers. He asked another question he wanted
to know the answer to in the meantime. �Why do you blame yourself so much, for
that and other things?�

�� There was a
flicker in Harry�s eyes and a twitch across his forehead. Draco leaned forwards
and watched with interest. He knew that such things only happened when the
person being asked questions wasn�t quite sure of the truth himself. Draco
waited, although he couldn�t keep from tapping his fingers on the table. It wasn�t
as though Harry would notice and be irritated by it; his whole mind was
consumed in the struggle.

�� Because I
had fame,� Harry said at last, in a slow, hollow voice. �Because I had power.
They all kept telling me that I�d defeated Voldemort, I could do anything.
Everyone looked at me with big eyes. They thought good and bad things about me,
but they always believed I could do
miracles. And�and what good is that if the only miracles I can come up with are
always about saving people from Dark wizards and never anything else? Aurors do
that every day. So I wanted to help people I�d harmed, too.�

�� Do you
still believe that you�ve harmed the dead?� Draco asked the question with
almost more interest than resentment. Now that he knew Harry couldn�t lie, he was
treating him like someone he could be with again. He couldn�t help it, he thought defiantly, to try
and silence the part of his brain that was critical.

�� More
struggle, more flickering eyes.

�� Some of
them,� Harry said at last. �Sirius. Maybe not Remus and Tonks. They died in the
middle of battle and I couldn�t do anything about it. But�� And he was gasping,
showing grief, which only happened with the most powerful of emotions when one
was under Veritaserum. �I was right there
when Fred died, and I saw him, and I couldn�t help him. I need to be able to
help him.�

�� He�s
gone,� Draco said softly. �He�s beyond help now. Do you understand that?�

�� But what
if I could do something?� Harry
murmured, half in argument and half in answer. �I can do miracles. I should be
able to help the dead.�

�� Draco
leaned forwards and gripped his arms. �You can�t,� he said. �You will never be
able to. The only things you can do are worse than the disease. Do you really
want to bring the dead back and cause them pain and yourself trouble because of
your guilt?�

�� No,� Harry
said immediately. �Not just because of my guilt.�

�� Draco
settled back into his seat, releasing Harry�s arms. He was beginning to regret
the choice of the library as a place to meet, though his rooms, full of
memories, or Harry�s rooms, full of Weasley, would have been even worse. People
were giving them curious glances, and he couldn�t touch Harry as much as he
wanted to.

�� It seemed
as though he had placed a burden on the ground that he had carried for years.
He had to believe Harry now. Harry had to tell the truth; he couldn�t hide it
because that would be �better.�

�� And Draco
understood Harry better than he thought he ever had.

�� What would it be like to be told that you
could achieve miracles if you just put your mind to it, and then have to put up
with the limitations of the ordinary, everyday world? I don�t think I would
adapt well. If I had the power that I wanted, and then I came into a situation
where it didn�t work, it didn�t matter, how would I cope?

�� That still
didn�t excuse the stupidity Harry got up to in the name of saving people, of
course. But it gave Draco some understanding of the stupidity.

�� What do
you feel about me, Harry?� Draco asked, after a reflective pause. �Do you love
me?�

�� Yes.�
Glazed though they were, Draco had the impression that Harry�s eyes had focused
on him desperately. �I never wanted to lose you. I lied to you about the
necromancy because I thought you would turn away from me for even considering
it.�

�� I didn�t
want you to do it,� Draco said. He couldn�t prevent himself from sounding
fierce. If Harry even considered something like this, he was still stupid,
though maybe Draco could have done something to keep the stupid desire from
reaching maturity. �But I would have listened if you told me about it.�

�� Harry
nodded, slowly, dreamily, but his forehead wrinkled as though he was searching
for an answer again. Draco wondered whether he really believed Draco�s words.

�� Listen.�
Draco leaned across the table and clasped Harry�s wrist tight. He couldn�t
respond now, not really, because of the Veritaserum, but there would be nothing
wrong with his memory once he woke from the potion. �I won�t think that you
broke your promise simply because you had a dream or a desire or a wish. That�s
why I wanted you to talk to me in the first place, because I wanted to know
about those things and keep them from growing.�

�� Harry
struggled hard again. Draco frowned. The Veritaserum had been right and
necessary, he reminded himself. He had no reason to feel guilty about having
used it.

�� You�hated
me,� Harry finally said, tongue clumsy with slowness but not as much as before.
The Veritaserum must be wearing off, Draco thought, and he would have to act
quickly, because there was one more question he wanted to ask.

�� No,� Draco
said. �I resented you, but I wouldn�t have cared so much about your betrayal if
I didn�t care about you.� He hurried past the words, because he thought they
exposed him unforgivably, and hurtled into the last question. �Why didn�t you
come and talk to me before this?�

�� Tried,�
Harry said briefly. �Wanted to.� His face smoothed out a little as he stopped
fighting the Veritaserum. �You didn�t listen to the apologies, and I didn�t
want to hurt you. Didn�t want to do anything at first, but I wanted to
apologize, and then you didn�t accept them, and I thought it might be better if
I stayed away. But it wasn�t.� He raised one of his hands and raked it through
his hair, showing that he was definitely recovering from the potion.

�� Draco shook
his head, the anger rising up again in spite of the resolve he had made to try
and suppress it, and in spite of the idiocy that it was to argue with someone
under Veritaserum. �I wanted to hear your apologies. I did,� he protested, when Harry looked at him skeptically. �But how
could I believe you with all the lies you told? You might have said you were
sorry just to get me to relax my vigilance, so you could go back to the
necromancy.�

�� You have
to trust me sometime,� Harry snapped, his eyes brilliant, the glaze gone. �You
believed that I�d done necromancy.�

�� Draco
sneered. Granger had tried to make the same point, and it made no more sense to
him now than it had then. �I had physical evidence of that. As to why I�m
finding it hard to trust you, whose fault do you think it is?�

�� Harry
lowered his head, but his hands closed into stubborn fists on the table.

�� Draco tried
to control his breathing. It felt as though he�d been pelting through the
corridors for hours, running non-stop, the way he had run around the lake at
Hogwarts sometimes to control his intense desire to run away. This time, though, it was sheer anger that made him this way.
How dare Harry act as if he was
trying to pin the blame on Draco? How dare he try?

�� I�m
sorry.�

�� Draco
blinked. He had been braced for another exchange of confusing, hostile words
with Harry, and this felt as if he�d just taken a step into thin air instead of
onto the level floor he knew should be there. �What?�

�� I�m sorry
I did that.� Harry sighed and looked up at Draco. His face was drained of
anger. Draco could see the exhaustion now that he�d missed, or that he hadn�t
been looking closely enough at Harry to see. �I realized the truth about
necromancy when we fought Nihil, and I realized how much I was in love with
you. You were the one who saved me
from Nihil, the thought of you. It had to be.� He licked his lips nervously,
while Draco tried to comprehend this new balm, or gift, or peace offering, or
whatever it was. �And you�re helping me to control the fits, too.�

�� What?�
Draco asked sharply. This was another jolt.

�� My fits
came back,� Harry said. �When I didn�t have the necromancy anymore. The guilt
needed some outlet, and I think the fits are one of those.� He was talking more
wildly now, staring at Draco�s fingernails as if he wondered whether Draco
would try to scratch his eyes out. �I�ve had a few in the last week, but this
afternoon when I started having one, I fought it because I knew I had to be on
time to meet with you, and it stopped.�

�� Draco could
think of nothing whatsoever to say.

That Harry should have told him
about the fits earlier? But then Draco would have thought he was lying, perhaps
trying to manipulate Draco into returning to his side, and he hadn�t been
allowing Harry to talk to him anyway.

That Harry should give him more
details? It sounded as though there was little else to tell�at least, little
else that Harry would think was important. That was something else Draco did know about him. Harry didn�t see the
point in going through the details of something that had happened to him
because he thought it was enough if others knew it had happened.

Besides, scolding Harry might make
him recoil or shut his mouth and not tell Draco when the next fit happened. And
Draco was tired of the silence even more than he was tired of the lies.

�� That�s�remarkable,�
he said. �I mean, that the thought of me could help you fight them off. But I
don�t like the idea of your having these fits, Harry. There must be something we can do to help you control
them.�

�� Harry waved
a dismissive hand, the way Draco had almost known he would. �They�re guilt.
They have to be, because of how regularly they started again after I stopped
necromancy. If I can�t make things up to the dead, the fits at least ensure
that I don�t forget them.�

Draco opened his mouth to explain
yet again how Harry didn�t need to
make things up to the dead, because it wasn�t his fault they had died�

And then stopped.

�� What would
be the point of going through this again? Harry already knew all the arguments
Draco would make; Draco knew his. It would take sustained time to work through
Harry�s guilt and decide how much of it was justified and how much he could
shed�and persuade him that shedding it was a good idea. Draco wanted things
solved as quickly as possible, but that wasn�t going to happen if he dated
Harry.

�� Maybe that�s part of the problem, Draco
decided, thoughts moving through his head like insects in amber as Harry
watched him earnestly. I wanted Harry to
apologize as quickly as possible, but I wouldn�t have believed him if he did.
This was the only way, to let some time pass and to try and accept it now. I�m
impatient�impatient for understanding, for power, for perfection�but it has to
take longer.

�� Now the
question was, of course, whether he could commit to staying with Harry for as
long as it would take.

�� He licked
his lips and sat up straight. �Listen to me, Harry,� he said. �I�m not going to
insist that you be under Veritaserum for any conversation we have.�

�� Harry
arched an eyebrow, and Draco could feel the
sharp edge of the sarcastic remark poking at his throat. But Harry managed to
hold it in. �Fine,� he said curtly.

�� But you
are going to have to tell me as much of the truth as you can,� Draco said. He
sounded too insistent to himself, whinging, but that was just the way it would
have to be. He tried to push the present out of his mind and think about the
future. �If you don�t feel you can tell me the truth�if it�s your friends�
secret, for example�then at least tell me why
you�re not telling the truth. I�ll understand.�

�� Harry gave
him a skeptical look, then sighed and bowed his head. �You probably will, for
all I know,� he muttered. �I told you that I felt I didn�t know you at all.�

�� Draco
nodded. �And because you did the talking, I�m the one who gained knowledge in
this conversation. I don�t�I think I�ve forgiven you, mostly, but not yet, not
for everything.� He stopped, because his words were drifting in the direction
of a whine again. He took a deep breath and started over. �So you should get to
know me.�

�� Harry
ducked his head and peeked up through his fringe. �I�d like that,� he said, a
slow smile moving across his face like a beam of sunlight.

�� Draco
caught his breath, and then told himself not to be ridiculous. �Good,� he said.
�So. We�ll continue speaking from here on out and see what happens?�

�� Harry
nodded, then reached across the table and squeezed Draco�s hand. Even though
Draco had been touching him before this, it still felt as though Harry had sent
electricity directly into his veins when he did that. �Friends?� Harry asked.

�� Yes,�
Draco said, finding it hard to speak. �And partners.�

�� Harry
didn�t take the obvious route and say that they�d never exactly stopped being
partners in the first place, so Draco didn�t have a reason to declare them back
to being there now. He just shut his eyes and nodded.

*

�� Harry came
out of the library feeling as though the Veritaserum had left sticky strands
like spiderwebs in his mind. His ears rang with Draco�s warnings about not
forgiving him completely yet. His muscles ached from being so tightly coiled,
and his tongue ached from speaking the answers to Draco�s questions.

�� Despite
that, he was grinning.

�� I said it. We�ll survive.

�� But whether we live or not is a different story.

*

�� polka dot: Not
so much, because Draco is uninterested in the length of time Harry was lying
right now. He mostly wants to know whether Harry has any intention of doing so
in the future.

�� SP777: It
does have elements of that. On the other hand, Draco is not as grown up as he
thinks, which is one reason that he lashes out like that.

�� Harry is
the first person outside the family Draco has trusted with so much. That�s what
makes this particular betrayal so hard for him to accept.

�� Dragons
Breath: Draco is going to have trouble keeping his temper and impatience in check
in the future, but at least this is a beginning.

�� anciie:
Well, a partial makeup, as you can see.
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Ceremonies of Strife