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Forgive Those Who Trespass	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 20650 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter Twenty-Four�The
Shadow Plague

�� Harry woke
slowly, blinking against the pressure of sleep on the corners of his eyes. He
yawned and started to roll over.

�� Then he
paused. Something was wrong, but he
couldn�t tell what it was. He wanted to look down at himself�and at Draco, who
had sprawled on his chest whilst they trusted to the wards Harry had cast on their
resting alcove last night�but the crusted sleep on the corners of his eyes
prevented him. He lifted a hand to scrape at it.

�� Nothing
happened, save the faint brush of coolness across his face.

�� Harry sat
on the panic that wanted to explode through him, reminded himself that he didn�t
know what had happened and anyway that panicking would wake Draco up, and
squeezed his eyes tightly until he felt a few flakes fall down his face. Then
he forced them open.

�� He no
longer had hands. Instead, his arms simply trailed off into two wispy shadows,
with faint, floating gray shapes at the end of them that might have been his
fingers.

�� Harry�s
eyes fell shut again. He had no strength to keep them open. His mind was full
of the tiny, darting, flickering shadow he had seen when he and Draco passed
out of the room of voices. It had not, after all, been the shadow of a creature
running away from them. It had been the sight of something joining with his.

�� And now it
was working on him, transforming him into something like itself.

�� Harry
forced himself to look down as he tried to rest one of his faded hands on Draco�s
hair. He felt nothing at all, and he was sure that Draco would feel nothing
more than the slight coolness he himself had done�the coolness of a shadow
altering its position in the sun. Draco uttered a little breath in his sleep
and turned over, his arms tightening possessively around Harry�s torso.

�� He won�t be able to feel me soon. Harry
glanced at his arms and grimaced. Was there already another small piece of
flesh gone from the bends of his elbows? He thought there might be. It�s progressive. And it probably started
with the hands so as to prevent me from using my wand to cast a spell that
would reverse this.

�� Harry felt
a terrible yearning to lie there and simply let the magic consume him. Draco
would wake gently, slowly, and not have to suffer terror and anger for the last
few hours Harry had left before he faded completely.

�� Then he
smiled, and knew the smile was rueful. He
would never forgive me if I did that. He used the still solid part of his
left arm to prod Draco in the shoulder, trying his best to memorize the feel of
cloth and skin from Draco�s ragged robes and warm body. Would memory be left to
him? He supposed it depended on how much of the transformation was magical and
how much physical. Ghosts could retain their memories, but, on the other hand,
they didn�t have their brains literally turned to shadow.

�� It makes sense that I wouldn�t become a
ghost. Life and death are different here, as Richard would say.

�� Draco
blinked at Harry, smiled, and then sat up. Harry saw the moment when his smile
faded and he noticed the smoke-like nature of Harry�s hands.

�� But he had
not expected the transition from sleepy contentment into full-blown panic.

�� Draco�s
fingers clamped on Harry�s waist. He was shaking his head, again and again, to
the point that Harry could hear his neck popping and creaking. His face was a
mindless mask of terror. Sense had fled his eyes so suddenly that Harry was
frightened for him.

�� Draco,� he said. �Listen to me. I don�t
know if anything can stop it. But the important thing is making sure you can survive
and continue on to the center of the maze, and that you don�t catch it from me��

�� Another
wild shake of his head, and Draco grabbed onto his arms, running the nubs of
his fingers down them. He stopped just short of the gap where Harry�s flesh
became gray mist and stared at it.

�� Don�t
touch it!� Harry said, shocked that Draco would put himself in so much danger,
and pulled back. Draco grabbed his leg and buried his face against Harry�s hip.
Harry swore. Draco was strong; he was a survivor; he had endured worse tortures
than this and come out staggering, limping, but essentially undefeated. Harry
had thought he would rise to this challenge better than he had.

�� He reached
down, then remembered he no longer had a hand to push the other man away, and
swore again.

�� Draco
lifted his head. His face was streaked with silent tears that broke Harry�s
heart. He�d had no idea that Draco had been crying, and probably wouldn�t have
until he felt wetness on his robes.

�� He yanked
himself free with a great effort�Draco�s hands fell helplessly to the floor and
lay there, palms upturned, cropped fingers still�and then knelt down in front
of Draco. �Listen to me,� he whispered. �You can�t catch this. One of the
things I�ve worked for since I started to trust you is to let you survive and
be free. Will you promise me to keep working for that? I can�t�I can�t watch
you give up.�

�� Draco
seized the communication sphere, squeezing it so hard that Harry was briefly
worried he�d break it. His nubs scrabbled across the glass. You can�t surrender. You can�t leave me.
Never leave me.

�� Do you
know something that can reverse this?� Harry asked, and held up one of his
hands. �Especially since I can�t hold a wand anymore?�

�� Draco shook
his head. The gesture had become a series of spasmodic jerks by now, even as he
bent over the communication sphere again. I�ll
die.

�� I think
you might be able to at least take the wand�� Harry pushed away his own rising
fear. At least he wasn�t in pain; this shadow plague didn�t hurt as it ate him.
When he glanced down at his arms, a bit more flesh was gone, and he hadn�t even
noticed. �Maybe you can�t use magic, but you can intimidate other people into
thinking you can. And maybe the worst of the traps are past. There�s only the eighth
Pensieve, and then the center of the maze. Draco, you�ve got to go on. Please, if I�ve ever comforted you or helped you,
help me now. Try to find Ron and Hermione. Learn their fates, even if you can�t
avenge them or free them. And free yourself. That�s what I want. That�s what I
was willing to die to ensure.�

�� Draco�s
head still shook. His fingers tapped out, I�ll
die. I�ll go mad. I�ll die. I�ll go mad.

�� And then
Harry understood. And he was filled with the impulse to lie back and simply
bang his head on the floor until he passed out. Maybe, by the time he woke up
again, he would be shadow entirely, and the problem would have solved itself.

�� Draco would
go mad without Harry by his side to get him through the rest of the maze. Or he�d
simply give up and sit still, not moving, not eating, until a monster or the
Unspeakables found him and ate him or put him to use. His dependence on Harry
was so great that he�d given up some of his strength to endure indescribable
pain.

�� I knew this was bad for him, Harry
thought, guilt and pain swirling through his soul, at least as strong as his
regret that he wouldn�t get to see Ron and Hermione again. This relationship we have, this leaning on each other. It�s taken more
away from him than it�s given, if he�ll go mad at the loss of it.

�� It also
raised troubling questions about how exactly Harry was supposed to do what he
had to do to free Draco and give him back as much normality as possible, if
Draco would go catatonic at Harry�s not emerging from the maze with him�

�� Then Harry
reminded himself of the more immediate problem. The shadow plague was eating
steadily towards his shoulders. He�d never get the chance to free Draco at all
if he didn�t solve this riddle.

�� Be still,�
Harry said, piercingly enough that Draco stopped shaking and stared at him. �I
promised not to leave you, and I won�t. But I need to think of a way to come
back to myself��

�� His breath
left him with a whumpfh when Draco
hugged him, squeezing his ribs until Harry had spots in front of his eyes,
leaning and clinging and rubbing his face against Harry�s neck as if he were
trying to crawl inside him. And wasn�t that
an unfortunate image? Or at least it could have been, if Harry didn�t have
other things to think about. He coughed and leaned away from Draco, who had
lifted his head from the crook of his neck to look at Harry with undisguised
greed.

�� You are necessary to me, he mouthed.

�� Harry
shivered, uncomfortable. It was too much like his own sentiment when they�d
left the room that held the veil. No one else would ever mean to him what Draco
did.

�� And that
was�well, maybe good in ordinary circumstances, maybe fine in ordinary circumstances, but these were not ordinary circumstances.
Harry had to be sure that Draco survived, no matter if he made it to the end
with him or not.

�� Right,�
Harry said. �Now, please let me go. I don�t want you to get this from me.�

�� Draco immediately
sat back, obedient, though his hands twitched when they were away from Harry�s
skin. That made Harry wonder if part of the problem was their constant physical
contact. Draco had to be used to that now, when no one had touched him for a
year except to hurt him, and he would find it harder to give up than even
ordinary conversation, perhaps.

�� Things will have to change, Harry
promised himself as he closed his eyes and prepared to think his way through
the problem. If I solve this, I�ll pay
more attention to strengthening him and less to weakening him. Because that�s what
I�ve done, even if it wasn�t intentional.

�� He forced
himself to ignore thoughts of what would happen to Draco, and to Ron and
Hermione, if he succumbed to this disease, and dragged his thoughts through as
much of his Auror training as he could readily remember.

�� He was certain he had never learned about a
virus, or a creature, or a spell, that could cause someone to turn into a
shadow. It was easier to make someone else Vanish forever than complete the
transition into insubstantiality. Even affecting a ghost was difficult; it took
magic on the order of a basilisk�s gaze to do it.

�� On the
other hand, he�d become insubstantial rather suddenly and recently, hadn�t he?
When he had used the mistaken spell that turned him into light, he�d only come
back together because Draco recalled the memory of him as he had been.

�� But Harry�s
excitement died when he remembered that he�d emerged from that little disaster with
a wooden foot. Who was to say that he wouldn�t dissolve into light, return, and
still have the shadow plague eating him up, colored as Draco�s most recent memories
would be by that?

�� Well, you have no other choice than to try.
And Draco was only trying to remember you at all that last time; you didn�t ask
him to heal your wounds. Ask him this time. And you�ll have to get him to
perform the magic.

�� Draco,� he
said, opening his eyes. �I have something that might work, but it will be dangerous.�

�� Draco
immediately sat up on his knees, face bright and radiating attention. Harry
felt a wave of deep sadness as he gazed at him. I�m so sorry, Draco. I didn�t mean to turn you into a puppy hanging on
my every word. Well. That�s one reason to get better, so I can give you a
better future.

�� Apparently
he�d been silent too long. Draco snapped two fingers in front of Harry�s face�quite
a feat, with so much of the flesh missing�and Harry started and nodded. �We
need to cast the spell that dissolves me into light again,� he said. �This
time, concentrate on pulling me back into my flesh�my flesh as it was, not as
it is right now. That�s the only way I can think of to reverse the plague.�

�� Draco
visibly swallowed, but he nodded. Then he glanced from Harry�s wand to Harry�s
shadowy hand and raised his eyebrows.

�� You�re
right. I can�t hold the wand.� Harry looked directly at him. �You�ll have to.�

�� He nearly got
his eye put out by Draco�s frantically stabbed fingers. Draco flexed his hands
open and closed several times, to make sure Harry understood.

�� Yes, I know,� Harry said. �But I think you�ll
do better with this spell than with many others. The motion is mostly in the
wrist; think of how you showed me. And you can cast spells nonverbally. You were
rather good at it in our sixth year, as I remember.� He smiled encouragingly,
but Draco shook his head again, and went on shaking it until Harry glanced
down, saw the swathes of gray covering his shoulders, and lost his temper.

�� You�re going to,� he said. �I think your
thinking you can�t use magic has more to do with constant pain and degradation,
the loss of your voice, and the fact that you haven�t been let near a wand since they started torturing
you. You�ll have to, because I can�t. Hold it in your teeth if you must��

�� Draco
pointed at Harry�s mouth, with an accusing expression.

�� Because I�d
still try to say the spell,� Harry said. �And the wand might get turned into
shadow, too. And because I�m on the very edge of being scared out of my mind
right now, Draco, and I need you to do
this.�

�� Strangely,
that made Draco peer at him for long moments, and then straighten with a smart
nod. He picked up the wand and clutched it clumsily in the middle of his right palm,
bunching his cut fingers together around it. Harry watched critically. It
seemed hard to believe that the Unspeakables would have overlooked his
continued capability to handle a wand, as much time as they�d had to work over
Draco.

�� But given
how shaky his hold was, and how long it took him to work the wand into
position, Harry determined that the Unspeakables probably hadn�t worried that
much. Even if Draco got hold of a wand, it would be extremely easy to Disarm
him, and he�d probably drop it in the middle of a frantic duel.

�� They weren�t
in that situation now. And if Draco could successfully cast with Harry�s wand,
that would give him some of his confidence back, and show him he could do magic. That, in turn, would lessen
his dependence on Harry.

�� May he not come out of this with deeper
scars than he has now.

�� Draco began
to move his hands in the broad sweeps necessary for the Fingere solis, and the wand promptly skittered away from him and
into a corner of the room. He dropped his head and stared at Harry from under
his lowered eyelids, his expression a mixture of misery and defiance.

�� Harry took
a deep breath. The shadow had moved so that it covered the sides of his neck
now. �That�s all right,� he said calmly. �Just go and get it, and this time
hold it with both hands as you perform the movements.�

�� Draco
trotted across the room, though he kept turning his head to look at Harry, as
if swallowing a last sight of him�or making sure he wouldn�t run away. A few
moments later, he was crouched in front of Harry again, and this time he held
the wand with his right hand and curled the stubby fingers of his left hand
around the edge of his palm. When he began to sweep it, the wand trembled, but
stayed firm.

�� Harry met
his eyes and gave him the gentlest, most tender smile he could muster under the
circumstances. Draco�s eyes lit up as though someone had touched flame to kindling
inside him, and his movements smoothed and widened.

�� Harry saw a
brief, spreading fan of light traveling towards him in the moment before he
lost control of his body and the intense strangeness radiated through his mind.

�� He could
remember�

�� He could
not remember�

�� What was memory?

�� He tried to
lunge towards the furthest corners of the room, but something made him turn and
glance behind and to the side first. And there was an attractive center,
blazing so with thoughts of him that he had
to look. And once he had looked, he found the thoughts written on the glass
of the other man�s mind, and he came together enough to remember his name and
the purpose of what they were doing.

�� Harry
flicked his name like a whip through his dispersing remains, calling them into
line, scourging the desire for freedom from them. That was not freedom. Freedom was what he owed Ron and Hermione.
Freedom was what Draco needed and would have from Harry in the end, whether he
wanted it or not. Harry needed to survive in a human body so that he could attain
that greater freedom.

�� The bobbing,
blinking particles of light he had become funneled towards him and drifted behind
him in a more or less obedient mass. Harry turned back to Draco, ready to grasp
his memories and appear in, hopefully, a renewed body.

�� Then he saw
the gray thing in the middle of the light.

�� It
resembled a rat, but was nothing so innocuous, Harry knew. It flickered and
sputtered, a dim reflection of the brilliance next to it, trying to pretend it
belonged with him just like his memories did. It hid behind the light and
darted from place to place, doing its best to fool his eyes.

�� This was
the thing that had caused the shadow plague.

�� Harry
reached out to Draco. He needed help, he tried to say as clearly as possible.
The seed of the plague was still here, and if he came back into his body as he
was, it would follow him and simply cause the disease again, like a scum of
bacteria that remained despite an intensive cleaning regimen.

�� Draco
understood. The fiery letters, lit from beneath, on his mind�s surface said, I will remember you for as long as it takes.

�� Harry hoped
Draco could feel his gratitude in lieu of a visible nod. Then he turned and
charged the shadow.

�� It fled
him, diving and twisting, extending its boundaries until it thinned almost to
the point of invisibility, coming back together and whirring briefly into the
shadows cast by the globe of light. But Harry knew those shadows. His globe of light didn�t wane or change like
the setting sun and the moon did. He could see the intruder lurking at their
edges, and he would not be fooled, not this time.

�� And now,
there was no human shadow for the plague to hide in.

�� Even as he
thought that, it turned and made for Draco like a snake.

�� Harry
stooped over it like a hawk. His one thought was to destroy it, disperse it before it could harm Draco. He protected Draco. Nothing was going to get
past him and hurt Draco whilst he was still alive. And this counted as being
alive, in a very odd way; he could not die as long as that one faithful human
memory held him.

�� He
remembered the shadow-wolf that had attacked them in the room where Draco was
imprisoned, and how he had sent it away. And he turned and picked through
himself even as he dived, searching for the spark that had been his magic. If
everything else was here with him, his physical body and his memories and his
name and all, the magic must be.

�� It came to
him, and Harry�it was the best description he could come up with afterwards; he
was not really sure of what he was doing even as he did it�forced his
intentions through a ring of light into reality. Magna! Magna! Magna! he thought over and over, until the spell beat
in him like a drum.

�� Drumbeat
mingled with light, and radiance struck through the room like a phoenix going
nova. Harry felt guilty as he remembered that he hadn�t warned Draco to shield
his eyes, but he honestly wasn�t sure he could have, given how much effort the
casting of the spell had taken.

�� He could
still see, since he was the light.
And he heard the thin, insubstantial wail as the plague virus flared, eaten in
from the edges like a burning piece of parchment, and vanished just before it
touched the edge of Draco�s shadow.

�� Harry
blasted his triumph through himself, and reached out to Draco. He needed the
thoughts of himself inscribed on Draco�s mind to come back to his body, and he
needed them now; already the sparks were wandering away again, since he�d
concentrated on something other than keeping himself together.

�� Draco,
through pained from the inferno of brilliance he�d been plunged into, still
responded. Harry felt bits of himself sticking together, memories flowing, the sensations
of flesh enclosing him briefly like the thought of blankets when he was tired�

�� And then he
was himself, and although he still
had a wooden foot (which made sense, because Draco had seen him longer in the
maze with the wooden foot than without), his arms were solid again. He at once
snatched up the holly wand resting near Draco�s knees and waved it in front of
Draco�s face, murmuring a simple charm to heal his burns and restore his
eyesight. That, he could do, having
been caught flat-footed by Magna a
few times during Auror training. It was such a small thing, against all the
weight of Draco�s suffering, but it would have to do.

�� Draco
blinked, and blinked, and then looked at him. Harry suspected he was still
seeing through dazzling haloes and afterimages, but his gaze rested on Harry�s
newly solid hands with unmistakable contentment.

�� There�s no
way I could have done that without you,� Harry whispered, and grinned at him. �And
you can use magic. Who knew? We�re pretty good together��

�� Draco flung
himself straight at Harry, and a moment later Harry lay on his back, winded,
with an insistent Draco turning his face around. Then their lips met, and their
tongues tangled, and Harry moaned as he realized how much he had forgotten
about pleasure, even before he became light.

�� He lifted
his hands and threaded them through Draco�s hair, delighting in the sensation
against every fingertip. He had almost lost this, and joy struck him in the
chest a bit late; he�d been so focused on survival he hadn�t allowed himself to
feel fear, and now the relief he�d lived and could touch Draco again was overwhelming.

�� Draco
uttered a hungry breath, a rush of warm air against Harry�s chin and neck, that
probably would have been a moan of his own if he could make noise. Then his
hand brushed, gently but insistently, against Harry�s chest; somehow he�d
undone a few buttons of his robes.

�� Harry
swallowed, slowly ended the kiss, and sat up, with Draco still in his arms.
Draco stared at him, hand resting on bare skin, and then rolled his eyes and
visibly relaxed from a tension that could have been a coil of anger. He patted
Harry�s shoulder with a condescending expression, and mouthed, I�ll wait until you�re ready.

�� Then he
leaned his ear against Harry�s chest to hear his heart, instead of buttoning
the robes up again.

�� Harry bit
his lip fretfully. He could only give Draco so much. He would have to be so careful, to ensure that Draco was not
depressed forever when Harry left him.

�� It would be
so much easier if Draco hadn�t decided, on his own, that Harry was not merely
convenient or helpful, but necessary.

*

�� WeasleyWench:
It�s a tragedy in many ways, but it is not a Shakespearean tragedy. I�m afraid I can�t say more.

�� As you can
see from this chapter, Harry is just more and more determined that Draco needs
some time and space away from him.

�� SoftObsidian74:
The possibility always exists that Draco liked torturing people more than he
let on. (In canon, after all, he was part of Umbridge�s Inquisitorial Squad).
It�s meant to remain as a possible choice for the reader to make.

�� Harry may
intend something different than you think. This chapter has a line in it that�s
a clue.

�� Engwaaearien:
Thanks for reviewing!

�� Hi-chan:
Oh, yes. Draco does want to move the relationship onto the physical, sexual plane;
that�s the last thing Harry wants at the moment, as it would bind them so
closely together.

�� Mangacat: I
think the ending is good.

�� Lilith: At
this point, with so much time passed in between what he did and the present, I
don�t think Draco could say whether he really felt like the Unspeakables.

�� QueenBoadicea:
If they can die. The maze�s nature
means that it�s not as simple as just laying down their lives anymore�which makes
the Veil a perfect tool for the Unspeakables.

�� And no
doubt Draco will have a very tough time defending himself�but Harry will take
measures to make sure he�s exonerated.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Heh, define �stupid.�

�� Zet:
Interesting idea! But I have chosen my ending.

�� GreenEyedCat:
Very good point. Harry would, at this point, honestly find it harder to remain
with Draco and face the implications of a permanent relationship with him than he
would to end his own life.

�� Off_the_deep_end:
Thanks for reviewing!

��
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Forgive Those Who Trespass