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The Serenity of His Rage	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16981 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

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Chapter Twenty-Three—The Confession

            “I did want to have another look at the decoy locket before you gave it away, Harry.”

            Harry had to grin at Hermione over his shoulder. He’d opened the door to the bedroom he’d shared with Draco only after making sure that everything potentially embarrassing was out of sight. From the way Hermione kept her gaze fixed on him and only him as she came in, she was doing her part to make sure she wouldn’t see anything if it was there.

            “Sorry,” said Harry, with a shrug. “But you have the note, and I think Kreacher might let you look at it if you beg nicely enough.”

            Hermione smiled a little. Then she sat down on a chair that stood near the door and said, so quickly and quietly that Harry would have missed the tone in her voice if he hadn’t been listening carefully for it, “So. This is a rebellion against Dumbledore?”

            “I don’t know if I would put it that way.”

            “Yes, I know it sounds dramatic.” This was a much calmer Hermione than he’d ever dealt with, Harry thought. Maybe she was trying to control her emotions until she heard what they were going to do it. “But you and Malfoy are acting as if he’s an enemy.”

            “Not an enemy. Just someone we can’t trust all the time.”

            Hermione sighed and stared between her knees at the floor for a second. Then she said, “Ron is downstairs in the kitchen with Dumbledore. His parents came this morning. They’re all talking. Well, Dumbledore is talking to Molly and Arthur, anyway.”

            “So Ron wanted to visit with his parents?” Harry didn’t understand why she sounded like she was making an excuse for Ron not being here. He didn’t see the need to make excuses for Draco. He’d just gone home that morning to tell his father what was happening before they went to Hogwarts.

            “No. He’s staying down there to make sure that Dumbledore doesn’t think all three of us are meeting secretly and talking about him.”

            Harry blinked at her in shock. Then he grinned. “It sounds like you’d make a good mastermind for the rebellion when we decide to have it, Hermione.”

            “I’d feel happier if I knew why we had to distrust Dumbledore.” Hermione’s hair bristled as she leaned forwards and cast a spell at the door. Harry recognized it as one that would warn them by letting them hear the sound of someone’s footsteps coming towards the doors. “I know why Malfoy does. But why you?”

            “He thinks I have to die to remove the Horcrux from me,” said Harry. “And I don’t think he’s given up on that plan even though Draco and I have told him all the problems with it. Like the soul-bond. And the fact that Draco wants me alive.”

            “We want you alive, too!”

            Harry came over and put his hand on her shoulder. “I know, Hermione. I never thought you and Ron would just go along with it.”

            “But you don’t trust us as much as you trust—Draco.” Hermione looked as if she didn’t know whether to be angry or sad as she stared up at him.

            “I have to trust him more in some ways because of the soul-bond we have connecting us,” said Harry quietly. “That doesn’t mean I want to leave you behind, or think that you’re on Dumbledore’s side.”

            “You’re sure it’s his side. And that you’re going to be on the opposite one.” Yes, the sadness was winning out. Hermione held her hand across her mouth for a moment before she reached for him.

            Harry hugged her back, and whispered, “I don’t want it to be. But at the moment, Dumbledore is still trying to shut Draco out of things, and I know he thinks the soul-bond didn’t work out the way he hoped. He did the soul-bond in the first place because he wanted to keep an eye on Draco and he didn’t trust Draco to be loyal to us.” He sighed as he felt Hermione’s arms tighten around him. “So, in a way, it makes sense for Draco not to trust him.”

            Hermione started to answer, but someone tapped on the door. Hermione immediately leaned backwards, her wand springing into her hand so fast that Harry jumped. “Someone canceled the spell that would have warned me,” Hermione told him in a low voice. “And Ron wouldn’t have.”

            “I need to talk to you, Mr. Potter.”

            “Oh, wonderful,” Harry muttered, recognizing Snape’s voice.

            “He might have something to say about Dumbledore,” Hermione said, and pushed him towards the door with her fist in the center of his back.

            Harry whirled his arms around to keep his balance, and turned to frown at her. “Are you going to leave, or what?”

            Snape, probably hearing them, instantly said, “It is a delicate matter that I will only speak to you about alone, Mr. Potter.”

            And he probably waited until Draco left, too, Harry thought. He shook his head a little. Dumbledore and Snape and anyone else who wanted him to die because of the Horcrux should understand that he would only tell Draco later anyway. And anything that made him feel strong emotions, Draco would feel before he got back.

            “I think we can trust him enough,” said Hermione. “I mean, Dumbledore isn’t going to march you outside right now and try to kill you to remove the Horcrux.” She gave Harry a troubled smile. “Oh, Harry. Try to be polite, all right?”

            Harry just nodded. “Because you asked me to,” he added. “Not because I trust either of them right now.”

            “Well, maybe they aren’t on the same side,” Hermione said, and opened the door and slipped out past Snape before Harry could stop staring at her. “Professor,” she said, with a single inclination of her head, before she went down the corridor and then down the stairs.

            That left Harry staring at Snape.

            I hope that he’s on the same side as us and Hermione knows what she’s doing, Harry thought, even as he tried to tone down his emotions. He didn’t want to summon Draco back from his father’s house before he was ready. Right now, Harry wasn’t in any physical danger.

            At least, I don’t think so.

*

            Severus made out the deep wariness carved into the boy’s face, and subdued a sigh. Of course it would be there. He had done nothing not to earn that. Even though he had been part of creating the soul-bond between Draco and Potter, Potter hadn’t trusted him at the time, whatever his feelings about the bond now.

            Severus leaned on the wall next to the door, instead of against it, hoping that leaving the way to escape open might calm the boy. Potter turned a little so he could watch Severus. He moved smoothly on his heels, with more grace than Severus had thought he would. Perhaps the fighting experience Albus had told Severus about had benefited Potter more than it had appeared at first.

            “What did you have to tell me?” Potter asked.

            Severus could put it off no longer. “I had a friend, once,” he said. “A friend I would have given up everything for. Your mother.”

            He could see from the widening of the boy’s eyes that he had him. And he knew the way he could hook him further. Spin out a thread made of memories of Lily, clip a dangling bait to the end, and capture him. He could perform such feats of capturing and teasing that Albus would applaud him.

            Now I only must decide if I will.

            “I didn’t know that,” Potter whispered, and shifted a step nearer, although he then took one to the side as if to make up for that. “So few people talk to me about my mum, except when they say I have her eyes and Professor Slughorn told me she was great at Potions. Can you please tell me more?”

            Severus gritted his teeth. He had thought that Potter’s express lack of interest in his mother had happened because he would rather hear about his father instead. Well, and because he had no idea, for excellent reasons, that Severus had been her best friend. It wasn’t the sort of thing the werewolf or Black would have brought up, either.

            Instead, it seemed that it was only ignorance that had stilled his questions. Just as ignorance about the soul-bond had probably compelled him to go through with it.

            “There is something else you must know, Potter,” said Severus, and so made the first of the decisions that had been waiting for him.

            “What’s that?” At least Potter’s eyes had taken on a wary cast again, although he still looked as though he would follow Severus through Inferi-infested darkness for a tidbit about his mother.

            Severus sighed. “Albus was the one who asked me to speak with you about Lily. I made a bad decision because of the—memory you saw last year.” He grimaced at having to speak of it, but he had made the decision, and truly, whatever path he spun down, he would have had had to do this. “Lily was my one connection to a normal world, my only friend. After she and I had the rupture between us—”

            “Because you called her a Mudblood.”

            “Yes.” Do not flinch, Severus. You should be long past flinching. Severus didn’t know if he hid the wince, but he knew he was still on his feet and staring at Potter, that he hadn’t backed away to run down the corridor, and that alone was something.

            “Go on.”

            Potter had folded his arms, but not turned away. Not yet. Severus drew in his breath and spoke quickly. “I became a Death Eater not long after that. I served as one who was relatively faithful until I overheard the part of a prophecy that Sybill Trelawney was proclaiming to Albus. I ran off and reported it to the Dark Lord. But when I realized that it could apply to Lily—and to you—I begged the Dark Lord to spare Lily.”

            “Just my mum.”

            “Just her,” Severus echoed softly. He ignored the stab that Potter’s curled lip gave him. He had endured worse stabs. “So. I failed. Or, rather, I believe he gave her the chance to step aside, and she didn’t take it—”

            “That’s what I hear when the Dementors are near,” Potter whispered. “Voldemort telling her to step aside and my mum refusing.”

            Severus stared at him, arrested and shaken beyond words. So much for the thought that I was prepared for this conversation.

            But he had chosen, so he caught his breath and went on. “I made a solemn promise to Albus that I would make up for my mistakes. It was my loyalty to Lily and my grief at her death that caused me to make that vow. I swore to protect you and fight the Dark Lord when and if he returned—as Albus never doubted that he would.” Severus closed his eyes. “Albus wanted me to tell you this so that you would understand what it means to suffer a great loss and yet go through with one’s duty anyway.”

            “He wanted you to help persuade me to die.”

            “Yes.”

            Potter folded his arms and hunched in on himself in a way that Severus didn’t think he’d ever seen before. “But you don’t sound like you’re doing that.” He might have muttered the words to himself rather than intending to share them with Severus, although Severus heard them anyway. “Or you would have done it better.”

            “I am gratified that you understand that,” said Severus.

            A moment later, he froze. He might have undermined Potter’s trust by speaking to him the way he would Draco—

            But the green eyes that rested on him weren’t unfriendly. Perhaps that was the best he could hope for, considering their past and the inherently unpromising beginning he had been forced to make.

            “Why did Dumbledore try to make you do that?” Potter asked.

            Severus opened his mouth, and then closed it. He had been about to correct the boy on the matter of Albus’s title, but he could hardly deny that the boy had reason to take away that title if he could.

            “Because he loves you, but also thinks you need to die for the greater good of the world,” Severus said. He was watching for it, and saw the moment when the boy winced. “Never doubt he loves you. Never doubt he would be willing to do anything—short, perhaps, of killing you himself—to see the world saved from the Dark Lord.”

            “I won’t doubt it. Thank you.”

            Potter craned his neck back a second later, and added, “Why did you decide to change your mind?”

            “Instead of persuading you?” Severus shifted to the side, once again making sure not to block the door, although this time he thought Potter would trust him enough to listen. Draco, however, when he came back, might fly through the door and not pay attention to anyone except Potter who was on the other side of it. “Because of Lily. And because when it came to it, I could not fulfill Albus’s purpose.”

            There was a faint, sad smile on Potter’s lips. “I think I was a disappointment to him, too.”

            Severus tightened his shoulders, refusing the offered sympathy that Potter might be holding out to him. He wasn’t entirely sure. But they had other things to speak of now. “I do not care any longer about being a disappointment to him. We must plan now what to do. I can baffle any questions he asks me, but I am not sure about you.”

            “I’m not going to give him the chance to ask any,” said Potter firmly. “If he wants to know what to do about the Horcrux, I’ll tell him that Draco and I want to find the others before we make a decision about the one in my head. If he wants to know that you told me the story about my mother, I’ll tell him that you did.”

            He hesitated. Severus, understanding where his reluctance to discuss strategy came from, held his tongue, and finally Potter added, “But I would like to hear more about my mother some other time. Um, when you’re not acting under Dumbledore’s orders.”

            “I will tell you about her,” Severus answered. He could not say that he would rejoice or be glad to do so, but Potter seemed to understand, from the faint, relieved smile he gave Severus. Perhaps the assurance had been all he wanted.

            “You might want to move out of the way of the door, sir,” Potter added abruptly, and smiled in its direction, the same vague smile Severus had seen Draco give when he was listening to the emotions of the bond. “Draco is coming, and he’ll probably bang the door open when he gets here.”

            Severus nodded. He was done here, anyway, and he suspected that the boy’s course with regard to Albus was wise. “I suspected as much about Mr. Malfoy, and I am standing—”

            Then the door flew open, and proved Potter’s predictions right and Severus wrong, as it crashed into his shoulder with a reverberation that seemed to shake his bones. Severus hissed and rubbed his arm. Potter gave him only a slightly shamefaced smile before he looked at Draco.

            And the smile that transformed his face when he did that…

            For the first time, Severus thought each of them might have a treasure to mishandle, rather than Potter being a danger to Draco and not understanding the soul he had bonded to.

            Keep him safe, Draco. If you care him for that much, and he cares for you, keep him safe until the time comes that you can make your own decisions in front of Albus and have them stick.

            Severus slid silently out the door. From the looks of things, including the stream of words that Draco immediately launched at Potter, the boys were too occupied with each other to notice him go anyway.

*

            Draco felt as though someone was yanking his head around by a halter. He broke off in his explanation to Father and stood up. He noticed Father gripping his wand and shook his head a little.

            “I think it’s Harry,” he said. “He’s all right. But something happened, or he learned something, that really agitated the bond.” And he closed his eyes and let himself fall into the raging waters of the bond in order to feel out what he could.

            The emotions skimmed past him and around him. Draco felt as though he was ducking under cold waves. Not anger, he thought quickly, so he doubted Harry had learned something new from Dumbledore or was fighting the Dark Lord or even having an argument with his friends. But he was in shock. Yes, shock.

            Draco felt the emotions suddenly smooth down, and came back to the surface of the bond. Father had put his wand down on the table, but in a place where, Draco knew from long experience, he could get at it quickly. And he was watching Draco with a pinch of a frown around his forehead and eyes.

            Draco nodded at him swiftly. “There was something wrong. It’s calmed down now. But I think I should go back.”

            Father raised a hand. Draco waited, obedient to the fact that something significant happened when Father did that, and relieved that he didn’t feel like he had to hurry back to Harry’s side immediately. He was still in Grimmauld Place, as far as Draco could feel it; if he’d been Apparated somewhere, the bond would have felt strained and distant, the way it had when Harry was in Surrey.

            “You would choose this young man even over family loyalty?”

            Draco tensed. He supposed he should have known this was coming, but… “No,” he said. “Harry wouldn’t want me to, anyway. He came with me to get you out, and risked his life to make sure that you escaped safe.”

            Father looked at him with eyes blind and bright as the sun, or as the bond sometimes was. “I still do not understand why.”

            “Because,” said Draco, with all the patience he could muster, “Harry would do anything for me, too. That’s the other side of the bond.”

            “How this can have happened when you were only soul-bonded for a short time…”

            “You don’t know what it’s like,” was all Draco could say. “I know you and Mother loved me.” He had to close his eyes then, and he was only not ashamed because he had noticed Father turning his head, too. “You love me,” he continued. “But it’s not the same as having someone who always understands what you’re feeling, and you always understand them, too.”

            “I hardly think that you and Potter were as sanguine about each other at first.”

            Draco shook his head. He still wanted to get back to Harry, but since he had calmed down, the danger couldn’t be immediate. “But we had to share dreams, and it was hard to know that he wouldn’t get away with any secret plans, and neither would I, as long as we were connected. At the very least, I would feel him getting agitated as the time got closer. He would feel the same thing.”

            “You could have used Occlumency to hold him at bay.”

            “Not after what took place at the Manor.”

            “Even then.”

            “If I wanted to,” Draco agreed, turning his head in the direction that the bond seemed to thrum most strongly, “perhaps I could have. Although it would have been difficult when he almost died with his soul drifting from his body and I was the one who brought him back, and when you owed him a life-debt. But I chose not to.”

            “Then call this my final question,” Father said, leaning forwards. “I can see that you are anxious to go to your young man.” Draco ignored that. It wasn’t worth responding to. “What traits in you made you make the choice to embrace the bond instead of keep Potter at bay?”

            “A love of teaching,” Draco muttered, but relented when he saw the unblinking stare Father gave him at that. “I taught him Occlumency. No one else had managed that, even Professor Snape. So I was proud of that, and invested in him living, and addicted to someone managing to understand me that much.”

            “It could be a weakness.”

            “So is this,” Draco said, and tapped his left forearm, which made Father flinch. “That isn’t the same as assuming that I shouldn’t do it.” He stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, Father, I think I have been away from Harry long enough.”

            Father frowned, but he didn’t say anything else. And Draco was confident he understood. He was only being stubborn.

            “Farewell,” said Draco, and bowed his head a little. He jogged towards the door that led outside, pausing only when he heard Father clear his throat behind him.

            “Good luck.”

            Draco smiled over his shoulder. If Father had decided to speak the words at all, he would mean them sincerely. “Thank you,” he said, and then he disappeared through the door and walked straight to the Apparition point.

            Despite knowing that he would have felt something more through the bond than the blurred, vague excitement he did now if Harry was in danger, he still Apparated swiftly to Grimmauld Place and moved swiftly through the door and up the stairs. And then he heard Professor Snape’s voice in the bedroom and dropped his wand into his hand.

            Professor Snape still might be one of those people who was in favor of Harry’s death.

            Draco came through the door at full speed, and heard Professor Snape hiss as the door collided with his shoulder. Draco nodded to him and focused on Harry, who was smiling at him in a way that meant nothing was very wrong after all.

            Either Professor Snape was on Dumbledore’s side and deserved a door in the shoulder, or he was not and wouldn’t hold a grudge about it. He held grudges about profounder things, like a refusal to try in Potions.

            And he was leaving. Draco ran a hand up the side of Harry’s face and murmured, “You’re all right? Nothing happened to you while I was gone?”

            “Yes. No. Only—Hermione told me that she and Ron will stand with us, and then Professor Snape came and told me about being friends with my mum.” Harry sighed and stepped into Draco’s arms. “He said that Dumbledore told him to. Something about how I could be persuaded to die if it was my duty, or you could learn to leave behind happiness and do your duty, or something. I think Snape is going to help us now, too.”

            Draco leaned against him, in wonder. Harry sounded full of wonder himself, and the bond hummed with it, as if it was an unexpected thing that his friends would want to help him. Well, speaking honestly, a hated professor wanting to help him and turning against the Headmaster were probably more mysterious to him.

            “I had to come back,” Draco murmured. “The way your emotions peaked and then dropped back again…”

            “Thank you.”

            And then Harry kissed him, and Draco entwined his fingers through his hair, and he felt a surge of utter satisfaction at the way things were working out.

            This was the life he had chosen, and while he would still have wished his mother alive over anything else, he no longer thought it was a bad one.



*

            SP777: Well, maybe. Snape knows some nice ones, too. ;)

            It will be more like a series of raids from a base, rather than a whole separate hunt. No reason for it to be, when Dumbledore is still alive and Snape is there to help them.
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The Serenity of His Rage