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Parsimony	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 14122 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfic.

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Chapter Twenty-Five—A Mangled Ambush



            “If you knew something, Potter, you would tell me?”

            It was hard enough to remain absolutely motionless when Klein looked at him with piercing eyes, but it was much harder with McGonagall. But Harry forced himself to meet her eyes and simply nod. “Of course, Headmistress. You know that I don’t have any reason to want Lucius Malfoy to escape punishment for his crimes. Or Draco to be punished for his father’s crimes, either,” he had to add, because some of the ways McGonagall watched Draco lately made her suspect she was thinking about that.

            McGonagall watched him, and Harry watched her back. Her eyes could scrape and pierce, and Harry wasn’t immune to them. But he was a lot more interested in protecting Draco than he was in soothing her temper, which made him stand there and return her gaze evenly enough until McGonagall sighed and waved him out of her office.

            “When your plan goes wrong, as it will, I hope you will think of me and turn to me,” she said behind him as the door closed.

            On the moving staircase going down, Harry took a deep breath and shook his head. He wasn’t much good at cunning plans, really, not if McGonagall could sense in an instant when he was making one, but then, neither was Draco. He still wasn’t sure which of them had given away to her that there was something going on. But of course there was. There was the ambush on the Slytherins to plan, and the contact with Snape to establish, and the wolfwere to sneak out and see tonight.

            “Potter.”

            Zabini was waiting for him at the bottom of the staircase, by the gargoyle, leaning against the wall with a nonchalant air that he really should work on if he didn’t want someone to think he was up to no good. He straightened up when he saw Harry and nodded to him.

            “Someone might think that you’d gone up to her to report on what I told you,” he said. “Someone less trusting than I am, I mean.”

            “Someone stupid might think that,” Harry agreed, with a little nod, and then champed his teeth shut as he smiled at Zabini. “Now. Why did you want to meet with me?”

            Zabini tossed a glance up and down the corridor, then nodded significantly towards the gargoyle. “Care to go somewhere else? This is a bit public.”

            “You were the one who chose to wait for me here,” Harry said, but he followed Zabini around the corner obediently enough. When they were out of sight from the main corridor, Zabini whirled around and faced him. Harry stood silent, his arms folded, and waited. Zabini had a touch of high and hectic color around his ears and neck, and he was breathing as though he’d taken a Pepper-Up Potion. Harry might find out the truth if he just stayed silent long enough for him to speak.

            “You asked when we were going to use Veritaserum on Draco,” Zabini began abruptly. “We still aren’t going to tell you that, but we are going to bring him to you when we’re done giving it to him, so that you can see the effects of his lies, and hear them, for yourself.”

            Harry raised his eyebrows and half-inclined his head. “All right. But how are you going to corner him? After dinner? That’s a bit public, too, but it would seem to fit your style.”

            Zabini scowled, and Harry hid a grin. At least Zabini didn’t believe that Harry was trying to get on his good side, then. “Never mind that. We’ll corner him and bring him to the Gryffindor Tower. We have the password,” he added, as Harry opened his mouth to object. “Not everyone despises us as much as you seem to.”

            “Hmmm,” Harry said. “And how would you feel if you knew that I had a reason of my own now to despise Malfoy, right along with the rest of you?”

            Zabini gave Harry the cautious look that Harry had sometimes seen Aunt Petunia use when she wasn’t sure that Harry had cooked the dinner to Uncle Vernon’s satisfaction. “I wouldn’t believe you,” he said after a moment. “I saw you with him this morning, and you were just as close as ever.”

            “That was before he made the mistake of thinking that, just because he was my friend, I would abandon my older ones,” Harry said, and stared grimly at the wall. If he had to meet Zabini’s eyes, then he might reveal the lie for what it was. “I don’t—I don’t understand him at all. What kind of idiot would do that? Well, this kind of idiot, I reckon.”

            “What did he say?” Zabini pressed in close, and his body seemed to vibrate like a scorpion’s tail. Harry thought it was almost pathological, how eager he was to hear bad things about Draco.

            Harry sighed and buried his head in his hands for a moment. Then he said, “He said—that he despised Hagrid, still, and he wanted to try and hurt someone lower than him in the status quo. He was going over to the hut, tonight, to cast some spells that would make the house unsafe for Hagrid for a long time, and maybe hurt the animals. I don’t know. I didn’t listen to every detail, because I was so sick.”

            “Yes, that’s the kind of person he is,” Zabini said, but he was pressing all the closer, and for some reason, the only thing Harry could think of was what Draco would think if he came around the corner and saw them both in this position. He pulled back despite himself. Zabini gave him a long look and ended up retreating, folding his arms defensively as he went. “Fine. What do you think we should do, then?”

            “Catch him before he booby-traps Hagrid’s house, of course!” Harry snapped, and hoped he was successful in making it look as if that was what he really wanted to do. “I’m going there tonight. I don’t care what you do.”

            “Did he tell you what time he was going?” Forget scorpions, Zabini’s smile would have done a shark proud.

            “Yeah,” Harry said, and looked away, running a hand through his hair for a moment. “He—he didn’t care. He thought I shouldn’t care about anything but him. I never realized he was so bloody selfish.”

            “That sounds like him,” Zabini said, and his teeth were bright with rage, and he actually leaned in long enough to put his hand on Harry’s arm. Harry recoiled almost in spite of himself. Zabini dropped his hand, but not the smile. “He’s fucking selfish like that, all the time. Don’t worry. You’ll see how much tonight.”

            He vanished in the direction of the dungeons, and left Harry to count his breaths and wonder whether it would work.

            “You’re a convincing liar when you want to be.”

            Draco’s voice, utterly neutral. Harry stiffened a little—he hadn’t sensed Draco there and hadn’t realized that he would witness the confrontation—but he nodded and moved forwards a few steps. “I can be,” he said, and then kept walking, because Merlin knew what would happen if Zabini popped back for a moment and discovered the two of them talking together like allies.

            Draco came up to walk beside him. Harry sneaked a glance at him from the corner of his eye, watching that corona of blond hair waver back and forth. But no, that’s not quite what we are, is it? Draco has no idea that I like him, or at least he’s determined not to act on it if he does, and I—I don’t know what to do next, other than try and make sure the Slytherins don’t hurt him. And find out if his father has escaped Azkaban. And try to balance being what he needs and what he wants.

            Well, when he thought about it like that, he did have a good idea what he should be doing, after all, Harry had to admit.

            “What are you thinking about, Potter?”

            They had reached the main corridor outside the Headmistress’s office again. Harry glanced over and found Draco had moved a step nearer, staring at him as though he assumed that Harry’s thoughts were the most important things he would ever hear. Harry swallowed roughly. Man, he had it bad, and the only reason other people probably hadn’t noticed it yet was that they were too caught up in their own problems, or hated Draco and would never think that he was the object of the Chosen One’s infatuation.

            “Mostly that I have a lot of things to do,” he said lightly, and stepped back from Draco, raising an invisible wall because it was the only way he could think of that might let both of them escape with some dignity intact. “And you should go to Hagrid’s hut and have a look around, to make the story credible.”

            “That’s not what you were thinking about,” Draco said, and moved a step nearer. “I can tell because of the color your eyes turn when you’re looking at me, you see.”

            Harry blinked. It was news to him that his eyes ever changed color. He tried to shrug it off, and stood further back. “Fine. But I still think that it would be a good idea if you were familiar with the ground around Hagrid’s hut.”

            “I’ll go in a minute. Sooner, if you don’t tell me what you’re thinking.”

            Harry swallowed again. Yeah, Draco must have some idea, or he wouldn’t have threatened to leave Harry alone, a far more effective punishment than staying and continuing to annoy him. Harry touched the back of his hand to his forehead and felt sweat coat it. He gathered up his courage, while Draco stood there with his eyes fixed on Harry’s face.

            It was that which made Harry speak. He didn’t want someone else to come by and see Draco like that, not if it was someone they had to fool. And the look made him feel, ultimately, like he owed Draco the truth.

            “Fine,” he said at last. “I was thinking that I hope you stay safe, and that the way your hair falls around your ears is really very—very very, and that I would give a lot to make sure that you always stayed safe from the Slytherins.”

            Draco raised his eyebrows, as if he had anticipated different words, and nodded. “That’ll do, for now,” he said, and turned away in a direction that might have led him to Hagrid’s hut, if he went there by a roundabout route.

            Harry blinked at his back, and then shook his head. No, he didn’t quite understand what that had been all about, and he might well be reading more into it than he should.

            But he couldn’t help grinning anyway as he walked back towards the Gryffindor Tower. At least that might indicate that Draco had some idea of what was going on, and didn’t entirely disapprove of Harry’s crush on him.

*

            Watching people’s behavior now that he had some idea of what he was looking for, it didn’t take Harry long to spot who had a crush on a Slytherin and might be willing to give one of them the password to the Tower. Parvati had gone far too silent lately. Harry knew that some of that came from the war, but she had been chattering with Lavender a lot the past few weeks. Now she spent most of her time staring dreamily into the fire or writing in a small book that she shut hastily whenever anyone came near her.

            Harry sat down beside her that evening after dinner, and she shut her book like always and glanced at him with a faint, sour smile. “Harry,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be spending time with Ron and Hermione or something?”

            “They’re involved in a discussion of their own right now,” Harry said, which was true. Ron was trying to persuade Hermione not to go to Australia this weekend, and by the grim set to Hermione’s mouth, Harry knew it wouldn’t be long before it escalated to shouting. “Besides, I want to talk to other people sometimes. Like you.”

            Parvati folded her arms over the book and gave him an uncertain glance. Harry knew what she was thinking. He hadn’t dated anyone since Ginny, and she might be wondering if he’d come over here with that intention.

            “For example,” Harry said, keeping a faint smile on his face as he nodded at her, “there’s the question about what I might do if I found out that someone was giving out Gryffindor passwords to someone who’s trying to harm my friends.”

            Parvati dropped her book on the floor. Luckily, most of the other people in the common room were focusing on Ron and Hermione’s building fight and not on her. “What are you doing?” she whispered, retrieving it and staring up at him. “I promise that Bl—I mean, the Slytherin I like—I mean, the Slytherin I’m friends with isn’t going to do anything to Ron and Hermione. It’s just that sometimes we need a private place to meet, that’s all.”

            “Private places,” Harry echoed. “I like the sound of that. And I think you could do even better if your private places were really private, not in the middle of a Tower where anyone could come in. Don’t you think that’s worth aiming for?”

            By now, Parvati’s cheeks were bright with confusion, but she could only shake her head. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said. “I’ve had enough of this conversation, too. I’m leaving.” She stood up and secured her book by her side.

            Harry reached out and caught her wrist. To most people from the side, it would only look like he was adjusting her book or helping her with her cloak. Parvati was the one who saw his eyes, and who stared at him with her mouth slightly open.

            “I’m talking about Draco,” Harry said quietly. Then he paused, and let a sigh roll out of his mouth. “Fine, Malfoy. I reckon I have to call him that, after what he said to me today.” The last thing he needed was Parvati reporting to Blaise that Harry and Draco still thought of themselves as friends after all. “But Zabini might hurt him, and I don’t want that to happen unless they can prove that he’s doing something wrong. And you giving him the password to the Tower could result in someone being hurt.”

            “You’re wrong about Blaise, at least,” Parvati said, relaxing a little. Harry was horribly afraid that the relaxation had to do with her thinking Draco wasn’t important, but he didn’t have any proof of that, so he kept quiet. “He isn’t interested in hurting anyone here. He just wants to come and talk to me. He’s a lovely person, Harry, really, you’d be a lot better off if you could put aside your grudges against the Slytherins and learn what good people they are—”

            Harry flapped a hand at her, and Parvati shut up with something that almost looked like lack of ability to do anything else. Harry hoped that it wasn’t. He didn’t want to go around terrifying people in his own House, either. Among other things, it would lead to more attention than he wanted.

            “Just think about it,” he said, standing up and studying her for a moment. “What happens if it turns out that he does hurt someone, or that someone else comes up and finds him here?”

            “The password is going to change in a few weeks, anyway,” Parvati said, and then frowned at him. “You won’t tell anyone, will you, Harry? Only it’s going so well, and I think that he’s really changed, but some of the others won’t understand—”

            “I won’t tell your secret,” Harry promised, rolling his eyes, “but you need to think about how well you’re keeping it. Someone will notice eventually. Maybe Seamus. Sometimes I think he’s jealous of anyone you’d try to date.”

            Parvati paused and looked towards Seamus. “You really think so?” she whispered. “You really think that he might want to date me?”

            Harry smiled. It was true that he had only seen Seamus looking longingly in Parvati’s direction a few times, but that was more times than he’d ever seen Zabini looking at her. And the way Zabini talked about his password acquisition, it really didn’t seem that he cared a lot about Parvati. “Maybe,” he said. “Why don’t you ask him?”

            Parvati bit her lip, then shook her head. “I still think you’re wrong about Blaise,” she said, in a low voice. “You just won’t admit it.”

            “If something happens inside the Tower because you gave the password to him,” Harry said, and lowered his voice in return, because he would be ruined, too, in a different way, if anyone heard what they were talking about, “then believe me I’m going to know, and I won’t be happy about it.”

            Parvati’s face turned pale, and she backed away from Harry without taking her eyes off him. Then she whirled and ran in the opposite direction.

            Harry sighed and let his muscles crack and creak in his arms as he stretched. He didn’t enjoy scaring people, any more than he enjoyed lying to people, but he would do so much more than that to protect Draco that it was sort of silly to flinch from them.

            Is there anything I wouldn’t do for him, I wonder?

            He didn’t know, but now that he thought about it, it might be worthwhile to find out.

*

            The owl that came to his Tower window in the middle of the night was pale and glided in like the ghost of Hedwig, so Harry flinched before he could stop himself. But the owl landed on his bed and held out a leg as silent as his wings. Harry took the note and read the short warning he and Draco had agreed on if it seemed that the Slytherins were going to take their bait.

            Too much bustle tonight, not enough looking at me. I’m there.

            Harry reached out and grasped the broom he’d brought up and put beside his bed earlier. Ron had joked that it should make him dream of new Quidditch plays, and Harry had smiled back and winced a little at the same time, thinking of how shamefully he’d neglected the team. Of course, he had never actually said that he would be on it this year, but everyone seemed to assume he would come roaring back in time for the first game.

            Against Slytherin.

            Harry shook his head and draped his Invisibility Cloak over himself as he vaulted onto the broom and opened the window. I’m spending a lot of time around them, all the time. I wonder how long a House I rejected is going to define my life?

            He soared out into the chill air, and made sure to shut the window behind him. He had left a few charms on his bed that should hold the curtains closed and produce a sound that would seem like a rattling snore to most people. Of course, he intended to be back long before morning and before anyone else could possibly be concerned about him and try to wake him up.

            But you still aren’t getting any bloody sleep.

            Harry frowned and tightened his grip on the broom as it bucked against the wind. Yes, well, that was just too fucking bad, wasn’t it? He would have to do the job in front of him before he could worry about going to sleep.

            And is that all Draco is to you? Just a job?

            Harry rolled his eyes and glided towards Hagrid’s hut. The last thing he needed to do was to start arguing with himself in his head, when everyone around him did such a splendid job of it.

            He hovered over the hut for a moment, and relaxed when his charms to detect Disillusionment spells didn’t reveal anyone hiding nearby. Draco’s hair shone briefly from behind the hut, but Harry was sure that he’d only showed that in the first place to attract Harry to him. Harry braced his legs around the broom and plunged downwards, soundlessly, pulling up when he was a few feet above the garden.

            Draco nodded to him and then refocused on the spell he was casting. Harry eyed the lines carved into the dirt and noted the way they all seemed to lead inwards, as though spiraling around something invisible. When he looked back at Draco, his face was calm and peaceful, but with a slightly mad smile. Harry decided that he wouldn’t ask unless he had to. After the state of affairs that had resulted in the Memory Charm, Harry thought Draco probably wouldn’t deliberately try to hurt his friends, and wouldn’t do it in other ways, either, unless it was in defense of his own life.

            “Zabini will take the bait?” Draco was pouring something pale green and glittering from a vial into the lines on the ground now. Harry watched it flow and hiss, and swallowed. Things were coming to the point when he was pretty sure that he was going to have to ask Draco what that potion was, or at least what the potion and ritual combined were.

            “He seemed confident enough in my story,” Harry said, shrugging off the Cloak and making sure that he’d stored it comfortably in his robe pocket. “And I know that he thinks I don’t know his secret way into Gryffindor Tower, so he’s going to be overconfident.”

            “You know it?” Draco glanced up at him, but returned his attention at once to the potion. Lucky potion, Harry thought before he could stop himself.

            “Yes,” Harry said. “Parvati’s been mooning over someone for ages, and guarding her diary like it’s made of dragon gold. Combine that with what Zabini said about having someone on the inside, and it has to be her.”

            Draco paused for a moment, and then he shook the last drops of potion into the grooves and stood up. “Would you do that for me, Harry?” he asked quietly, his breath touching Harry’s lips. “Would you give me the password?”

            Harry grimaced a little. Well, he had wanted to find out what he would do and what he wouldn’t for Draco, and this was…on the former list. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I would expect you not to misuse it, though, because that would just make it obvious where it came from and limit my ability to do anything else for you.”

            Draco stared at him for a moment, and then laughed. “Oh, Harry,” he said. “You do understand me, better than a lot of the people around here who think they do.” He patted Harry on the arm and then turned and studied the lines carved into the ground once more. When he intoned a word that rang like an iron bell, they began to blaze. Harry studied the light. He didn’t like it. It was the color of the Killing Curse.

            “What’s that ritual do, Draco?” he asked casually.

            Draco smiled at him, his face bright and fey in the blazing light of the lines on the ground. “Like it? This is the ritual that’s going to bring my friends’ memories back.”

*

            SP777: Thanks! But the reason Draco wants some extra confirmation from Harry is that he thinks he’s just one of those people Harry saves all the time and all over the place. If Harry wants to save people, that only increases the likelihood that he’s doing this because he wants to just save people, without the extra liking that Harry thinks is obvious. Draco badly wants some sign that things are different and he’s unique to Harry.

            unneeded: A lot is going to depend on Harry’s reaction in the next chapter. We’ll see if that makes things any better.

            Moma Nina: Thank you! Harry definitely knows what and who he likes, but he’s still not sure if Draco will ever acknowledge that.
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Parsimony