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Soldier's Welcome	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 25565 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; that belongs to J. K. Rowling. I am making no money from this fic.

Chapter List
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Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Twenty-Six�Night
of Falling Stars

�� Are you
sure this is a good idea?�

�� It�s a
brilliant idea.� Draco stepped back behind Harry and cocked his head
critically. Harry could see the motion in the mirror he was facing. He tried to
catch Draco�s eye and let him see how uncomfortable he was with this�not that
Harry didn�t want to help the investigation, because he did, but maybe it would
be better to wait a little while and build up his confidence�but Draco was
frowning down at Harry�s robes and didn�t notice. Harry had no idea what was
wrong with his robes. Draco reached out and gave a quick dusting motion across
his back, then nodded. �There. Perfect.�

�� Harry
looked at himself worriedly in the mirror. He wore dark robes, almost black but
not quite; they shimmered deep brown in the light when he moved. Narcissa had
said something about them being the color of his hair. Harry had bitten his lip
to avoid replying that, to look like his hair, the robes should really be dusty
and covered with tangles.

�� A single
large brooch held the robes closed at his throat, although there was also a
line of tiny gold buttons. (Harry had no idea how he would get them undone if
he needed to go to the loo). The brooch was large, dark gold and ornamented
with a dozen twining snakes, all of them with fanged mouths fastened around the
ruby in the center. Harry was sure the ruby was worth a dozen fortunes, which
meant he would probably break it or get it stolen before the evening was over.

�� To make it
worse, Draco had fastened a dark green cloak over the robes. Tiny golden pins
shaped like rearing unicorns held the tips of the cloak to the brooch. Draco
said the whole ensemble was dashing.

�� It might make people dash themselves to the
ground with laughter, Harry thought, and wriggled uncomfortably.

�� Stop fidgeting,�
Draco said, with an authority in his voice that Harry had only heard him
exercise about clothes so far. �You look wonderful, and everyone�s going to
want to dance with you.�

�� Dance?� Harry asked in horror. He spun
around to face Draco. �You never said anything about dancing. We were just
going to go to this Abrane Hall and see what we could learn about Nihil from
them, you said, because he was sure to have approached them.�

�� Draco gave
him a reassuring smile that Harry was much less disposed to find reassuring
since Draco had mentioned dancing. �You don�t have to do it. You can look cold
and dignified as you refuse them, and that will attract more attention to you
and bring other people up to ask questions.�

�� Harry
blinked. �But wouldn�t I look rude?�

�� No, of
course not.� Draco was speaking patiently now, apparently because any
pure-blood child five-year-old would have understood what he meant, and yet
Harry kept missing it. �The more proud you are, the more they�ll be intrigued
and wonder what you have to offer them�at least if you have some reason to be
proud, which you most certainly do. It wouldn�t work for someone like Weasley.�
He sneered. Harry opened his mouth to defend Ron, but Draco was continuing, his
eyes sparking coldly as he looked past Harry�s head and apparently at something
in the distance. �They�ll offer something of themselves, bits of information,
in hope that you�ll give them gifts of gossip in return, or some in with you.�

�� Harry
swallowed bile. �And all pure-bloods like this kind of gossip and chattering?�
he asked, revolted.

�� Draco
laughed. �This doesn�t have anything to do with pure-bloods in particular,
though most of the people we�ll see at the Abranes� party will be pure-bloods,�
he said. �This is politics, Potter.�
Harry winced. He had started disliking the fact that Draco still called him by
his last name, but Harry didn�t want to force him into intimacy he didn�t feel
ready for, either. �This is the way politics are played. You talk and make
connections and strengthen relationships that are already in place. You make
exchanges. No one has to know what kind of exchange we�re looking for until we�re
ready to reveal it, mind.� He gave Harry a warning look.

�� I know
that,� Harry said irritably. �I�m hardly about to walk to the front of the room
and proclaim that we�re looking for connections to Nihil.�

�� I know,
but there are other things you could give away with just as much ease to the
people who are looking for them.� Draco shook his head.

�� This is why
this isn�t a good idea,� Harry said. �I�m not trained to do this kind of thing.
I don�t know how to behave.� He reached up to unfasten the brooch at his
throat.

�� Draco
grabbed his wrist and stepped close. Harry swallowed. Since he had admitted to
Draco that he wanted to give and not just take�an admission so powerful and
damaging he could hardly believe he�d made it, sometimes�he had noticed that he
got dizzy around Draco a lot more
easily. It was like he�d given himself permission to notice that Draco was an
attractive man or something.

�� You�ll do
fine,� Draco murmured. �Mother and I both trust you to smile and shake your
head if you don�t know what to say. Looking mysterious is always a good idea.
Don�t drink much wine. Refuse all the invitations to dance. Sigh and look
pensive if you have no idea what else to do. That will convince people you�re
hiding something important.�

�� Harry
sighed. �All right, fine.�

�� I�m so
pleased that you�re being gracious about this,� Draco said in an overly bright
voice, and shooed him out of the room before Harry could make any response. He
still had to get dressed, and apparently that was a procedure that would take
some time. Harry went, shaking his head.

�� I think he�s wrong. I can try to look mysterious or shady or as though I
have secrets to hide, but I�m not good at controlling my expression or lying. I
couldn�t even tell Draco lies about what happened when Nihil started to turn my
magic into grief magic, though I think he was upset about the fact that I tried
to die.

�� If he was,
though, he hadn�t given any sign of it. Harry shrugged the thought off and sat
down to make small talk with Narcissa in the little anteroom where the
house-elves had placed him while they waited for Draco.

*

�� Draco
blinked and shook his head to clear his mind from the lingering aftereffects of
Apparition. He looked towards Abrane Hall with a sense of anticipation that he
wouldn�t reveal even to his mother. It was true that he hadn�t been here often,
and he might be exaggerating his memories in his eagerness, but every year the
Abranes gave a spectacular Solstice party with a different theme. Draco wanted
to know what the theme would be this year.

�� He caught
his breath when he realized it. The house had been transformed into what looked
like an earth-bound constellation of stars by the clever use of lamps, fairy
lights, fires, and, no doubt, glamours; Draco didn�t think there was any natural
light that would shed that specific kind of gentle white illumination from some
of the �stars.� The bulk of stone and wood that made up Abrane Hall had
vanished into airiness that looked as though the visitors could have walked
through it.

�� In the sky
overhead, unnaturally bright stars turned, forming the most familiar
constellations. Draco looked up at them with some admiration. It was one thing
to fasten a spell like that on the roof of a building, where it would give you
solid grounding to work with, and another thing altogether to attempt it with
an expanse of open air. Draco wondered for a moment what bindings they had
used, and then chuckled and attempted to relax and enjoy it. He didn�t think
not knowing the source of the Abranes� complicated spell would be dangerous.

�� Probably.

�� When he
looked down again, he found Potter eying him sideways, with a hungry expression
that he probably didn�t realize he was revealing. Draco controlled his own
preening reaction and nodded towards the house. �Shall we?� he asked.

�� Yes,� said
his mother, rustling decisively past him. She was clad in pale robes that made
her look like a queen of snow and went well with the starlight. �I simply
cannot wait to greet Cynthia Abrane again. There are so many things I wish to
say to her!� She walked ahead down the path, her eyes moving from side to side.
Draco was comfortable having here there. He knew she would do her best to spot social
traps, as well as people Potter definitely should not talk to, and warn them in time.

�� He and Potter
followed her down the path of crushed white stone that curved and dipped over
the small hills towards Abrane Hall with a glimmer like moonlight, though
Potter watched Draco more often than he did the curves of the path. Draco had
to work hard to hide a smile.

�� The robes
he had chosen were simpler than the ones he had given Potter; it was in the
quality of the cloth that their beauty showed, not in the sheer richness of
color. His were the shimmering blue-green of the eyes in a peacock�s tail,
though without the tawdry glitter of the natural bird, subdued rather than
glaring when they caught the light. The blue would give some color to his pale
skin�paler than Draco wished it to be right now, mostly the effect of long study
and worry about Potter in the past few days�and make his hair appear blond
instead of white. Draco thought his hair was shifting slowly in the direction
of white, and he would endeavor to look distinguished and exotic when it
finally hit. But for the present, there was nothing wrong about seeming to be
crowned with gold.

�� The large
ornamental brooch that secured his robes and cloak was not ostentatious like
the one that clasped Potter�s, either. Small and made of silver rather than
gold, it depicted long-winged birds wheeling around a sapphire. Draco wondered
how many people tonight would realize that the birds, from the shape of their
crests and talons, had to be phoenixes, and that the brooch was a statement of
its own.

�� You
remember what we talked about,� he said to Potter, to get his mind off his
clothes. Potter was so struck by them that Draco was in danger of forgetting
about their real purpose if he lingered on them too long.

�� Potter
nodded and snapped his eyes forwards again. Perhaps he had realized he was
staring, too. �I pause when we step through the door, so that everyone can get
a good look at me. Then I go immediately to some corner and wait there for people
to come up and talk.� He grimaced and raised a hand to swipe through his hair.
Draco rolled his eyes. They hadn�t been able to do anything with Potter�s hair
anyway, so forbidding him the gesture was useless.

�� Still� �Doing
that makes dandruff fall on your shoulders, you know,� Draco told him. �And it really shows up against the dark color
of those robes.�

�� Potter shot
him an outraged look, and Draco felt as though the path had become more solid
under his feet. This was the truth of their relationship, not the dreamy
half-romantic glances Potter had given him. �I do not have dandruff, Malfoy,� he hissed.

�� Draco gave
him a pitying stare and shrugged. �Whatever lie enables you to live with yourself,
Potter.�

�� Potter
would probably have answered, but just then the stars overhead swirled and
began to fall.

�� Draco jerked
to a stop, his breath catching, and stared. The stars descended like a
snowfall, breaking out of their constellations to form new and glittering ones
that puffed apart a moment later like the dust from broken glass. Where they
touched the grass, or appeared to touch the grass, fountains of light arose,
shuddering and tossing themselves like the manes of beautiful pale horses. Draco
had to swallow, his eyes stinging against the sheer beauty of the sight.

�� As new
stars opened above their heads, blossoming like flowers made of silver, Draco
heard Potter mutter something that sounded like, �I didn�t know that you could
use magic like that.�

�� Draco managed
to recover from his trance and give Potter a superior look. �I�d wager that you
didn�t think wizards like the Abranes would use it for anything beyond torturing people and getting themselves more money.�

�� A frown
settled itself into place on Potter�s lips, and he didn�t reply as they walked
up the stairs to the Hall. Draco didn�t mind. It was no bad idea for Potter to
appear in the party first with a disapproving look; it might mean the other
people there would put themselves through their paces trying to please him.

*

�� Harry
shifted in his robes and gave the most polite smile he could muster to the
bloke in front of him, who had introduced himself as some sort of Abrane
relative and was chattering on about broomsticks. He�d probably heard that
Harry played Quidditch at Hogwarts and assumed that was all he would want to
talk about. Harry let his eyes wander away from the man�s face and around the
interior of Abrane Hall.

�� The party
was being held in a single enormous room that might have taken up the entire
house for all Harry knew. It was larger than the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The
walls were black, dotted with enough ripples of light and shadow to give the
impression that they were standing outside beneath a full moon.

�� Or so Draco
had said, and Harry had no reason to doubt him. The fact that he hadn�t been
able to figure that out for himself just showed how out-of-place he was at a
function like this. He wasn�t meant for
it. Draco was.

�� Harry felt
his head pulled around in a circle. He knew exactly where Draco was standing at
any given moment, as if they were tied together. And maybe they were, by the
compatible magic, but Harry didn�t think it could account for this.

�� Draco was
holding court in the middle of a circle of admirers. Maybe a pure-blood would
have been able to read something from their body language, maybe they weren�t
as accepting as they seemed, but from what Harry could see, they wanted nothing
more than to get under Draco�s robes�and maybe inside his pants.

�� Harry
firmed his grasp on his wineglass and took a deep breath. He had no right to
think like that. So what if that was what they wanted? Draco had a perfect
right to choose one of them. The fact that he could, just like he could
describe the effects of magic the Abranes were going for with a glance, only
showed Harry how thoroughly he didn�t belong in this world.

�� Or with
Draco.

�� I think
you�re bored with me.�

�� Harry
started and brought his eyes back to the face of the bloke in front of him. After
a minute of struggle, he managed to remember his name�Jarvis. �No, Jarvis, not
at all,� Harry said hastily, and Jarvis beamed. Probably because I remembered his name, Harry thought in disgust
and despair. Having Harry Potter notice
you is somehow worth more than having other people do it.

�� But
something�s wrong.� Jarvis gave him a little nod and snapped his fingers. A
smooth, slim glass carafe of wine appeared beside him, and he poured a stream
of it into Harry�s glass. �Tell me about it.�

�� Harry
lifted his glass to his mouth and made it look like he was taking a large
swallow. That was one of the few things Draco had drilled Harry on before he let
him go to this party. He said that Harry had to convince people he was more
drunk than he really was. Harry had learned his lesson well. Probably, at
least, if the small, satisfied smile that Jarvis gave him was any clue.

�� Well.�
Harry decided that he would use a tiny sliver of the truth. He just wasn�t good
enough at lying, and a direct invitation to talk meant that he couldn�t stand
around looking silent and mysterious. �I�m not that interested in Quidditch anymore.
Not interested in the kinds of things that should interest me anymore.� He
shook his head helplessly. �Ever since the end of the war, and almost dying�it
changes my perspective on things.�

�� That was
part of the truth. The rest of the truth was more complicated, tried up with
Auror training, and Draco, and Ginny, and the way that Harry sometimes felt as
though the world was pulling him into rags to make a dozen different cloaks,
but Jarvis didn�t need to know about that.

�� I know exactly what you mean.�

�� Harry
looked up and blinked. Jarvis was leaning towards him with his teeth and eyes
shining, and he was nodding furiously, too, as though he wanted his head to
fall off his neck before the end of the evening. Harry hadn�t expected such an
enthusiastic response, and had no idea what to do. �Were you in the war, too?�
he asked, a little lamely, because it was all he could think of to say.

�� Jarvis
chuckled. �No. My family stayed neutral. But you could say that I�ve learned a
little about life and death since then.� He gave Harry a deep, significant
glance. Harry managed to keep from grinding his teeth together, but it was
hard. This is why you should have stayed with
me, Draco, you bastard. This is probably important, but I have no idea what to
do to make him trust me.

�� Really,�
he said, and sipped from his wine, and tried to look thoughtful and mysterious,
the way Draco had advised. Whether he was successful or not, Jarvis took the
bait.

�� Yes.�
Jarvis leaned further towards him. Harry had assumed his breath would smell of
wine, but it smelled of dust instead. �The Dark Lord was afraid of death. He was
a fool. The problem is that, if you go through death, either most of you doesn�t
survive, or it survives in a form like a ghost, where you can�t really influence
and you don�t care about the world.� He waved a hand, and Harry saw the passion
glowing in his eyes and prepared for a long lecture. �You follow me so far?�

�� Harry
nodded.

�� But if you
can ensure that part of you goes through death and survives, so that death is
just another kind of transformation, like falling in love or being born or
growing up, then it�s not terrifying. And if you can control that transformation, and where the changed part of you ends
up�� Jarvis shrugged and lowered his eyes in what Harry thought was supposed to
be a sort of display of modesty. He hadn�t seen anything so false since Dudley
pretended that he didn�t want his parents to praise him. �You understand?�

�� It sounds
fantastic,� Harry said. His heart was beating hard. He was thinking of the way
that Nihil seemed to specialize in transforming people and twisting animals,
and the way that his magic had begun to alter when he�d felt Nihil trying to
change it into grief magic. He had been certain, somehow, that he would survive
what Nihil was doing to him, but he wouldn�t survive it as himself; he would become
Nihil�s minion, the way the �Death Eaters� they faced in the interrogation
rooms had.

Yes, what Jarvis was talking about
had to have something to do with Nihil.

�� I know.�
Jarvis waved a hand again, but this time he touched Harry�s wrist and slipped
something into his fingers. From the thickness and the way it crackled, Harry
thought it was a piece of parchment. �Think about it, all right? I�m sure that
there are certain people who would be interested in meeting you. Nusquam, for
one.� He gave a little bow and then walked away.

�� Harry
licked his lips. Nusquam was Latin, and he thought it meant �nowhere.� He slid
the parchment into his robe pocket. He didn�t want to open it here, where all
kinds of people might see and maybe use charms to read the paper the Chosen One
was staring at so intently.

�� He was too
excited to stand still and drink wine anymore, though. He started towards the
buffet table.

�� Then he
veered towards Draco.

*

�� Draco was
an expert at appearing attentive when he was bored silly. It was a necessary
task to learn in Hogwarts when one was taking Arithmancy and ahead of the rest
of the class. So he had no trouble nodding and smiling and exchanging
honey-sweet barbs with the people who stood in a circle around him while in
reality keeping an eye on the woman in the nearest corner of the room.

�� She was a
tall witch he didn�t recognize, with thick black hair that rivaled his Aunt
Bellatrix�s, bound carefully on the top of her head with a golden comb. Her
eyes were wide and a deep, dark blue, several shades deeper than Draco�s robe.
She wore a dark blue robe to match them, fringed with golden lace that flipped
over her hands whenever she ate or drank something. And she had finished
several cups of wine and several small plates of cheese and fruit since Draco
had begun to watch her.

�� She wasn�t
trying to be subtle about her staring. Draco would have caught her even if she
was, but for her to be so open made him wonder.

�� Gradually,
he began to work his way out of the circle of people, mostly by granting them
compliments they needed to think about for a while, or hinting gracefully at
important business elsewhere. Most people had seen him come in with Potter and
were willing to let him go. Draco stepped free at last and turned to face the
witch.

�� She gave
him an open, amused smile, her lips redder than nature could have made them.
Then she flipped her sleeve again so that the lace fell back from her hand and
spread her fingers. A golden ball of light came into being above her palm,
spinning rapidly. Draco recognized it. It was a variant of the spells that the
Abranes had used for their glamours of the stars, a powerful spell, but
harmless.

�� One thing
only was unusual. He had watched her sleeve carefully, and there was no sign of
a wand anywhere.

�� Then she
began to drift towards one of the corridors that led further back into the
house, the golden ball drifting and waltzing around her head now, her gaze
inviting Draco to follow.

�� Draco
narrowed his eyes. He took a step towards the woman, who smiled again.

�� Draco!�

�� And of
course Potter came up to him then, and when Draco turned back, the woman had
vanished. Only the golden ball of light was left, which bobbed in what seemed
like a mocking bow before it burst into sparks that flew to join every torch in
the room. Draco cursed under his breath. There was no chance of getting a
magical signature by analyzing the spell she had left behind now.

�� I definitely
learned something about Nihil,� Potter whispered in a tone still not low enough
for Draco�s taste as he came up beside him. �And look!� He thrust a square of
parchment into Draco�s hand.

�� Draco
opened it irritably. He was certain following the woman would have proven more
profitable than reading what was probably no more than a love letter to Potter
from one of the people who wanted to fuck the Chosen One.

�� There were
nine Latin words on the parchment�three on the first line, five on the second,
one on the last.

�� Nihil. Nemo. Nusquam.

�� Et sic transit gloria mundi.

�� Mors.

�� Draco
licked his lips. Potter, crowding in beside him, made a frustrated sound.

�� I thought
it was a clue,� he muttered. �What use are three names? And what do those other
words mean?� He reached out to trace them. Draco thought about stopping him,
then realized that any charm on the parchment would have taken effect before
now, since Potter had carried it across the room.

�� And so
passes the glory of the world,� Draco translated the second line. �A very
common motto. The Death Eaters used it sometimes. The last word means �death.��

�� That�s
still not a clue,� Potter protested. Then he brightened. Draco knew he had from
the tone, though he wasn�t looking at him. �But what I heard from Jarvis is!�

�� Draco
glanced up sharply. �Jarvis?�

�� Jarvis
Abrane,� Potter said. �At least, I think it was Abrane. He introduced himself
that way.�

�� Draco shook
his head slowly. �Potter, I know all the Abranes. I made sure to study their
genealogy before we came here. There�s no relative called Jarvis.�

�� Potter shut
his mouth hard. His eyes were dark as he looked down at the parchment. �That still
doesn�t tell us what that means,� he muttered, as if in rebellion.

�� Draco
shivered. �No, it doesn�t,� he said.

�� But it gave
him an image in his mind: a wide dark sea, large enough to swallow up all the
Abranes� falling stars without a trace.

*

�� qwerty:
Thank you!

�� Harry�s
thinking is even more complicated than that. He�s worried that, if he enjoys
something that he does for Draco, then that isn�t really a repayment for what
Draco�s done. His major assumption is that Draco hates everything he does for
Harry unless there�s some personal advantage attached to it.

�� Rafiq:
Harry and Draco will work on their compatible magic in the following chapter.
As for the missing witches and wizards, there are not a lot of missing people,
but the reason why that is has to wait for an explanation.

�� hieisdragoness18:
About Draco�s feelings? Well, Draco is going out of his way to hide them,
including calling Harry by his last name.

�� Mr Spears:
Thank you!

�� Dragons
Breath: Harry will man up about a certain aspect of their relationship in a few
chapters.

�� MiraMira:
Thank you!

�� SP777:
Draco is the one retreating from the situation right now, because he wants
complete control over it without sacrificing any control of his own.

�� And yes. I�ll
reply to it soon.

�� callistianstar:
Thank you!
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