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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-Four�Demands Answered

�� Well? Have
you thought about it?�

�� Draco
didn�t understand the calm face that Potter turned to confront him, or the way
he sat up in the hospital bed as if he had all the time in the world. Draco
hadn�t expected him to be still in the hospital wing, if he was honest with
himself. It was like Potter to sneak off to Gryffindor Tower
and never admit that he was hurt if he could help it.

�� I have,�
Potter said. �And I�ve decided that, although you know something about most of
my secrets and so it would be stupid to think that I can keep them forever, I
don�t have to tell you everything right away.�

�� Draco
blinked at him. He thought he would have been able to object if Potter had whinged or protested too hard or turned red in the face.
But he just looked grim and calm, as if he believed that he could survive the
darkness in him after all, and that held Draco�s tongue still.

�� I am sorry for what I almost did to you,�
Potter added, his voice gentled now. �There was no excuse for that. There are
certain things that I can�t do if I want to pretend to myself that I�m acting
the right way at all, and that�s one of them.� He pushed himself up the pillow
and extended his hand to Draco.

�� Draco came
forwards to take the hand, having no idea what else he should do. Potter used
it to pull him closer than Draco would have thought he�d be allowed.

�� But then, I think this is Potter�s day for
doing the unexpected, he thought, pleasantly breathless.

�� Potter
smoothed the hair out of his eyes and stared deeply into them for a minute.
Then he whispered, �You stood up to me when I was doing something wrong. Not
many of my friends would have had the courage to, because they think that I�m
doing right all the time. Thank you.�

�� Draco
nodded, dazed. Then he blinked and fought to gain control of himself. It didn�t
matter how deep and swimming Potter�s eyes were from this close, he thought.
There was still a certain grave, cold dignity that Malfoys needed to have, or
they were nothing. He would show Potter that he still possessed it.

�� Does my
opposition make a difference to you, then?� he demanded in a whisper. �Are you
going to actually try to relate to Professor Snape and do something to
survive?�

�� The first
part I don�t think is any of your business,� Potter said, with coolness that
more than answered Draco�s. �The second part�yes.� He tilted his head to the
side, and suddenly his face looked more human because he was wearing a wistful
smile. �Yes, you�ve convinced me.�

�� Draco
nodded. He could accept that Professor Snape would probably want to keep
whatever relationship he and Potter established strictly between them; Draco
was kind of surprised he hadn�t been Oblivated to
force the secret from his mind yet. As long as he knew that Potter wasn�t lying
back and staring at the sky like a Muggle martyr on a cross he�d heard stories
about, then he was content.

�� When will
you get out of here?� he asked, to change the subject, and stepped back so that
the dangerous intimacy and intensity between them would lessen. Potter blinked
his eyes and released a slow breath, as if he was surprised at how much less
the air seemed to burn when Draco was a short distance from him.

�� A few
hours, probably,� Potter said. �I was sleeping too deeply most of the night to
realize how I felt�� for some reason, he blushed when he said that ��and then
Madam Pomfrey was awake and wanted to check my
wounds.�

�� He did sound as if he was grumbling when he
said that, the way Draco had expected. It was enough that Draco looked at him
sternly. �It�s no sin for other people to care about you and want to help you,
you know.�

�� I know
that,� Potter snapped, so defensively that Draco was sure he hadn�t thought
about it. �But there�s a point where it gets smothering, and I�m not used to
that�� He bit his lip and fell silent again.

�� Draco
looked at him knowingly. He wanted to
say something about how this related to the way Potter had been raised by his
Muggle relatives. He could feel the taste of the words in his mouth, how they
would sound and feel, how they would make his tongue tap against his teeth.

�� But he
thought about the way Potter had stood by him when the Dark Lord sent his
father�s head, and how he had come in and helped Draco rescue his mother
without lots of gloating or sneering. That was part of the reason he thought of
Potter as a friend now, instead of a Gryffindor do-gooder who just did those
things because they were �right� and he wanted to show off how �righteous� he
was. Draco thought he could do the same thing himself and hold back instead of
constantly getting on Potter�s nerves about his secrets.

�� All
right,� Draco said, and forced himself to swallow the other words. �As long as
you know that.� He walked towards the door of the hospital wing, and enjoyed
the feeling of Potter staring after him in astonishment. It was nearly as good
as having Potter gape at him because Draco had confronted him and forced him to
admit his mistakes.

�� Draco did
pause near the door to glance back and add, �I hope that whatever you decide to
do makes you happy.�

�� He shut the
door quietly.

*

�� Why were
you in the hospital wing, mate?�

�� Harry
grimaced as he slid into a seat at the Gryffindor table. Of course, by the time
Madam Pomfrey could release him, it was lunch and the
rumor of where he�d been had run all over the school. At least it was Saturday,
so he hadn�t missed any classes. But now he had to deal with Ron staring at him
in open concern and Hermione peeking from beyond Ron�s head, as if she wanted
to show she was worried but wasn�t sure that he would welcome it.

�� And is that so bad? he thought. Harry
wasn�t so sure that he knew his thoughts anymore. They seemed to have changed
and grown harder, as if the person in his head who thought had grown up, while
the person who felt hadn�t. You have
people who worry about you. That�s more than you ever had when you lived with
the Dursleys. You don�t have to push them away
because they�ll get hurt. They would get hurt anyway, if Voldemort gets his
way. And you don�t have to push them away because they�ll hurt you. You know
that being left alone would hurt worse.

�� Harry gave
a tiny nod and then faced his friends. �I�m sorry,� he said.

�� Ron blinked
at him, mouth nearly falling open around a piece of treacle tart. Hermione
poked him in the back, and he shut it. �What for?� Ron asked finally, and
Hermione nodded. Harry had to work hard to avoid staring at her. It was so
strange to see Hermione allowing someone else to talk for her.

�� Because
I�ve ignored you lately,� Harry said. �I�ve acted like I�m staring at my own
death, and that�s not true.� I have to
believe that. Maybe I can�t trust Snape completely, but I can trust that he�ll
like the challenge of trying to help me survive. He won�t give up easily. It
would be a reflection on his abilities as a Potions master. I�m allowed to have
some hope. �And I�ve been
irritated at you because you were acting stupid, but I never allowed you any
time to explain that or apologize for it.�

�� Hermione
flushed. �We were acting stupid,� she
muttered. �I can�t believe I cared about some of the things that I cared
about.�

�� Ron gave
her a quick glare, but seemed more interested in the conversation than in
bickering, thankfully. �Well, good, mate,� he said, and smiled at Harry.
�Apology accepted.� He held out his hand.

�� Harry
clasped it and smiled at him.

�� Then he
looked at Hermione. He�d talked to her less often, except about Draco. She
flushed and clutched her book as if she was going to hold it up in front of her
like a shield.

�� I�m sorry,
too,� Harry told her. �Friends?�

�� She
immediately launched herself from her seat at Harry, despite Ron being in the
way, which made their hands tangle with spoons and ended up tipping over a
platter of sandwiches. Hermione didn�t seem to notice. She clung to him and
murmured words over and over that Harry gradually made out were, �Oh, Harry, always.�

�� Harry
hugged her and shut his eyes. He had thought that making up with his friends
would be hard, but he ought to have remembered that they were still his
friends, and they hadn�t changed into different people even if they drifted
away from him.

�� He felt a
gaze on him, clear and strong and uncompromising, and he knew what it meant
without opening his eyes. It was one thing to make up with Draco and with his
friends, or rather to hold Draco at a certain distance he didn�t have the right
to cross and to try and bring his friends closer.

�� It was a
different thing altogether to try and get close to Snape.

�� But Harry
was going to try. He had promised that to himself, and he was trying to keep
those promises.

*

�� Severus
thought he would have known the timid knock on the door of his office if he was
presented with a thousand knocks at once.

�� Enter,� he
said, and didn�t raise his eyes from the potions recipe he was studying.
Somehow, Slughorn had complained, one of his
first-year classes had all followed the directions and all failed to achieve a passable potion. Severus was attempting to
find the source of the mistake, no easy thing in Horace�s tangled thicket of
writing.

�� The boy
stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. Severus kept his eyes down.
It might be easy if the boy wasn�t confronted with a gaze that he had to meet,
and, with them, silent expectations that he would have to answer.

�� It seemed
that the boy didn�t agree.

�� Sir?�

�� Severus
raised his eyebrows, and then his eyes. The boy stood in front of his desk with
his hands behind his back, as if he didn�t want to be suspected of touching
anything. His jaw was set, and he kept swallowing, as if he assumed that would
somehow make things easier.

�� Severus was
struck with a memory so powerful it stole his breath: the way he had felt right
before he finally decided to approach the young, red-haired witch he�d been
watching for days. He�d swallowed, too, and played with the edge of his shirt,
wondering if she would laugh and despise him.

�� In this case, the boy knows that I have
already despised him in the past.

�� Mr.
Potter,� he said, and put the recipe aside. �You have come for a continuation
of your lessons? Or for something else?� He would do his part to make their
mutual goals achievable. But he had no wish, even now, to coddle. Helping was
not the same as coddling. He would make the boy name his goals.

�� For help
in learning how to survive�this.� The boy gestured at the scar on his forehead
and then clenched his hand into a fist, as if he knew that the gesture had
looked wild and half-mad. Severus once would not have credited him with such
perception, but then, what he thought he knew about the boy had changed much in
the last few days.

�� Then we
will begin,� Severus said, rising to his feet. �I have identified several
potions already that may be candidates.� He strode to the other side of his
office and rapped his wand against a cauldron in a special rhythm he�d
invented. The shelves glowed as five vials launched themselves into the air and
hovered above the cauldron.

�� He finally
became aware that the boy hadn�t moved, and glanced over his shoulder, wondering
if he should hide his irritation or not. �What is the matter, Mr. Potter?�

�� I have
another request,� the boy said, in such an absurdly formal tone that he must
have practiced repeating those words. Severus had no animus against such
things, in moderation. He simply awaited the conclusion of the speech.

�� They had
been in the same room for three minutes without snapping at or trying to kill
each other. He thought it an improvement.

�� I don�t
like the way you say my name,� the boy continued, speaking faster now, as if he
hated the words and wanted to hurry through them. �You still sneer�my dad�s
name. I don�t like it.�

�� Severus
restrained his immediate wrath. After all, on the one hand it was disgusting to
think of James Potter as the boy�s father; on the other, Severus had a sense of
what he was about to say.

�� Call me
Harry, instead,� the boy finished, and stared at him in quiet defiance. Severus
wouldn�t have known how fragile the balance between defiance and fear was if
not for the way that the boy�s clenched fists trembled.

�� Severus
regarded him in silence. Then he said, �And would you have me do this in front
of the Defense class? Or in front of other students who may be serving
detention? I assure you that your secret would not stay a secret for very long,
if you do.�

�� Damn it, no!� The boy took a step forwards, and
his eyes shone with fury so sudden that Severus caught his breath�and not only
because of the boy�s resemblance to Lily Evans.

�� The boy
caught himself a moment later and took a huffing breath. �You�re making this
harder,� he muttered. �No, just when we�re alone, because you sneer the name
�Potter� harder when you don�t have an audience. That�s what I want. Call me
Potter the rest of the time, I don�t care.� He put his chin up in that way that
would have convinced Severus before that he truly didn�t care, and which he now knew was one of the boy�s countless
ways of hiding insecurity and fragility.

�� Severus
gave a short nod. Yes, he had been making things more difficult than they needed
to be by deliberately misunderstanding the boy�s request.

�� Very
well,� he said. He paused, because he had never spoken this name without hatred or disdain, either, and yet it was
different�from now on, it must be different. �Harry.�

�� The boy
blinked hard, and said to himself in such a soft tone that Severus suspected he
hadn�t been meant to hear, �That wasn�t so bad.� Then he looked at the potions
vials. �How can these help?�

�� They are
Purging Potions,� Severus said harshly, as glad as�Harry�could be to change the
subject. �They are meant to fasten to poisons in the body and bear them quickly
out of the bloodstream, a swift antivenin. I believe that they could be of help
in removing the piece of the Dark Lord�s soul that you carry from your body.�
He glanced at the boy, but encountered only an expression of fierce
concentration, which was at least more hopeful than the bewilderment he would
have expected beforehand. �However,� Severus added, �since you have carried
that piece for so long, we cannot expect these to work without still more
experimentation than would be necessary to adapt them from the body to the
soul.�

�� Harry nodded. �And is there anything
else that you can use?�

��

�� Severus
sneered at him. �Afraid of a bit of purging?�

�� Harry�s eyes
darted up to him, and there was anger in them that looked fresh and raw and
young. As irritated as Severus felt at the moment, he could not but approve
that. It meant the boy was beginning to recover from the grey despair that had
aged him prematurely.

�� I was
thinking of what we should use in case these particular potions don�t work, sir,� he said, his teeth grinding so
hard on the words that Severus could almost hear him biting off pieces of them.
�You know, demonstrating that intelligence and foresight you keep telling us we
should possess?�

�� Severus
leaned one arm on the cauldron. His mind wavered back and forth between
interest and irritation, and for long moments, he did not know which emotion
would win. Then the interest welled through like sunlight through clouds, and
he nodded. �It is good to see that you can address an audience with some other
emotion than noble resignation,� he said.

�� I never
asked for most of what I�ve suffered in my life,� Harry said, with a starkness of speech that Severus could not help
but admire. �I just have to put up with it. I�m trying to.�

�� Severus
examined him in silence for some minutes, then nodded. �You are not attractive
as a martyr,� he said. �Try to make sure that your pleasure in it does not
return. Keeping off such an emotion depends on finding other things more to
your taste.� He took up one of the vials and held it out to the boy. �This one,
for instance.�

�� I don�t
think studying Potions will ever be to my taste,� Harry muttered, but he picked up the vial and studied it
obediently.

�� Severus
waited for some time until he thought the boy should have made elementary
observations, and then asked, �What do you notice about the potion?�

�� That it�s
red, and there�s some stuff on the bottom of the vial,� the boy muttered,
squinting as if he assumed that would make the glass more transparent than it
was.

�� That stuff is sediment,� Severus said.
Perhaps his son would never be talented in Potions the way he could have been
had Severus been allowed to raise him from an infant, but that did not mean he
would be allowed to continue in total ignorance. �It comes from ingredients
mixed together improperly.� He held out his hand.

�� Doesn�t
that affect the functioning of the potion, sir?� The boy seemed more than glad
to hand the vial back.

�� In most
cases,� Severus said. �Not this one. It is called the Blood-Washer, and some
Potions masters believe that the heaviness of the sediment contributes to its
ability to cling to poisons in the bloodstream.� He removed the cork and poured
the potion into the cauldron.

�� But you
don�t believe that?�

�� Severus
darted a glance at the boy. He had noted the exception to Severus�s general
statement without having to be coached. �You are better at noticing small
implications than I thought you were,� he murmured.

�� Harry surprised him by flashing him a
dark smile. �You�d be amazed what you can pick up when you know that that might
make the difference between you eating that night and not eating,� he said.

�� Severus�s
hands tightened for a moment, but he knew from experience that it took greater
pressure than that to either to dent a cauldron rim or shatter a glass vial. He
laid the empty vial beside the cauldron and cast a powerful Lumos charm on his wand that had the
effect of producing light without heat. Heat would trigger the Blood-Washer�s
effects, and he had no intention of doing that yet. �The amount of food you
could eat depended on your observations of others� moods?� he asked, simply to
clarify the truth that he had already suspected. He had not known for certain
that starvation was part of the harsh treatment Potter had reason to expect
from blood relatives, but he had suspected, given the state of his ribs and
wrists, and the lack of the height that Severus would have expected at this age
no matter who his father was.

�� But Potter
simply looked at him with blank eyes and no smile, apparently committed to
giving him no information for free, and picked up the empty vial. �What do you
expect to do with this potion, sir?�

�� Severus
restrained his wrath with the ease of long experience�both Albus and the Dark
Lord exasperated him continually, and at far greater depths than the boy had so
far managed�and studied the boy�s face. He thought he understood. There was a
warring pressure to confession in his soul, there must be now that he was among
people who suspected his secrets, but it was held back by the same pride that
had kept him silent for so long.

�� And there
was something else, Severus guessed from the presence of that dark smile. The
boy had a grim delight in teasing, in throwing out hints and seeing what his
auditors would infer from them.

�� It was a
game that Severus had often played himself.

�� I expect
to modify the potion so that it can serve as a test case,� Severus remembered
to say. Harry�s lip had curled with
extra delight when he saw Severus staring at him, and Severus thought
continuing longer with the stare would be coddling. �It is not the most
powerful of the purging potions available, but it is peculiarly flexible, a
product of its ingredients. They interact together in large, loose patterns. It
is harder to ruin the Blood-Washer potion when making it, and that looseness
also suggests gaps that I may place new ingredients into.�

�� He glanced
at the boy, suddenly realizing that he had been speaking as he might have
before Draco and regretting it. But though the scarred brow was furrowed, the
boy was nodding with comprehension that Severus did not think was entirely
feigned.

�� Do you
understand this?� Severus demanded.

�� Not
completely,� the boy said, with a frankness that Severus knew the other
professors saw as charming, �but I think I can make a good effort at it.�

�� Severus
frowned at him. �Why did you not exhibit this intelligence in Potions class
before? Why were you so determined to deny its existence when the year began
and I was learning the extent of your talents?�

�� The boy
curled his lip again and looked away. �Why should I have?� he asked. �If I had,
then you would have only been sure that I was stealing the knowledge from
somewhere, or copying from Hermione.� His voice grew thick with bitterness. �I
think you would have thought I was good at Legilimency
before you would think that I understood potions the way you wanted me to.�

�� Severus
turned to face him. �And what of the attempt at truce that we agreed upon last
night?� he asked.

�� You�re the
adult, sir.� The boy stepped away
from him. �Don�t you think you should be making more of an effort?�

�� Severus
caught himself again, and nodded shortly. Yes, he should, when so many reasons
for his hatred of the boy were gone. And now that he understood, or had some
glimpses of what kind of childhood had produced his son, he also understood
more about the belligerence he had despised.

�� Very
well,� he said. �Watch the ingredients I place in contact with the
Blood-Washer. Depending on the potion�s response, we will place them in contact
with others or discard them from the list��

�� And as the
boy leaned closer, Severus suffered a sudden, dizzying revelation: he was
leaning over a potions cauldron and instructing a son of his blood.

�� It was so
powerful and so distracting that he put it aside and concentrated on the
present moment.

�� But he
could feel the thought lying in the back of his mind, having presence and weight,
as so few of his thoughts did.

*

�� MewMew2:
Thanks! Albus isn�t all-powerful, but he isn�t all-guilty either. He�ll
eventually come to terms with Harry.

�� DTDY: Thank
you!

�� k lave
demo: Yes, I don�t think Dumbledore is evil, but neither is he especially
sympathetic (in the sense that he doesn�t spend a lot of time thinking about
the feelings of others).

�� I don�t
know about writing a sequel to Persephone�s Folly. We�ll see.

�� Anony: It will return later. Its strikes are unpredictable.

�� Mia: Thanks
so much!

�� There will
be some kissing and touching between Harry and Draco in this story, but not a lot
more.

�� Thanks for
differentiating.

�� Thrnbrooke: Thanks! I think they�re on the path to a better
relationship, but that�s as much made up of the negative things about their
characters (like the secretiveness) as the positive things.

�� lauren: Thank you!

�� Sneakyfox: It is indeed. Things do improve from here on
out.

�� ladyicondraco: Thank you so much! I hope you continue to
feel that way about the rest of the story.

�� SP777:
Thank you!

�� That was
just something I thought of. I see Snape�s way of speaking when he gets in a
passion as pretty dramatic.

�� Well, I don�t
know about that! When I take those online Sorting quizzes, I get put into Ravenclaw more often than not.
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Practicing Liars