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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.

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Chapter Twenty-Six�The
Downfall

�� Harry had
such trouble falling asleep that night that he wondered for a minute if
Voldemort was back haunting his dreams. But he hadn�t had dreams like that for
a long time, and he didn�t think Voldemort would want to show him false visions
again. What out there could be important enough, like the prophecy, to try and
lure Harry to him?

�� Well, he might want to kill you.

�� Harry
shifted uneasily. He hated it when his mind had a reasonable response to his
efforts to defend himself.

�� Well, other than that, why would Voldemort
have an interest in sending him false visions like last year?

�� This time
Harry couldn�t think of an answer, and nodded in satisfaction. He smiled and
rolled on his back, spreading his arms lazily around his head so that they
almost covered the pillow.

�� But the
satisfaction faded instantly when he remembered that, if Voldemort wasn�t
trying to get into his mind, then he had to come up with another reason he had
such trouble falling asleep.

�� This time,
the answer was swift and brutal, and Harry sighed and dragged one arm over his
eyes, as if that could block out the real reason.

�� If what Mrs. Malfoy and Draco said was true,
then maybe you just have to live with the way that Snape is always going to be.
Maybe he didn�t mean to hurt you, or not all the time. Harry grimaced as he
thought of his first day in Potions class, when Snape had struck unprovoked. Maybe there are times when he really just
wants to keep you safe, and he�s thinking you make it difficult.

�� But his
mind slammed against the same barrier he had always raised before, the question
that no one could answer for him. Why was Snape going to be so different from his other blood
relatives? Except for his parents, one of whom Harry couldn�t say was a blood
relative anymore, all of them had always treated him nastily. So why should he
trust Snape now?

�� Draco
seemed to think there was something special about the fact that Snape was his
father. So did Snape. And that was what made the whole thing a tangled mess in
Harry�s head. People seemed to think there was something specially important
and wonderful about blood relatives, and Harry thought they shouldn�t get any
more consideration than anyone else unless they actually treated you with
respect. Ron had a wonderful family, but Harry knew other people didn�t. Why
should you have to love someone just
because he was your father? If your sister tried to murder you, did you not
defend yourself because she was your sister and just lie there protesting that
this was probably because you should have loved her more?

�� Harry shook
his head. He already knew these wouldn�t sound like reasonable questions to
anyone else. Hermione would urge him to make up with Snape if she knew. Ron
wouldn�t, but he would be revolted in a way that said even he thought there was something special and important about blood
connections. And Harry already knew what Snape and Draco thought.

�� Then Harry
paused, and his eyes narrowed in thought.

�� When did Snape and Draco become important
enough for me to put them in the same thoughts with my friends?

�� Harry
opened his eyes and sat up, casting a weak Lumos
that he hoped wouldn�t disturb the other boys in the room. He wasn�t
getting to sleep anyway, and his thoughts were going around in circles. He
should do something productive and decide which spells he was going to teach at
the next session of the D.A. Some of the spells Snape had taught him were
appropriate, but others definitely weren�t.

�� Harry had
only made a list of two spells when he saw a flicker out of the corner of his
eyes. He looked up, thinking that Ron had opened the curtains to check on him.
A reassuring lie was already on his tongue.

�� But the
flicker came back, and he realized he saw a white Dementor
drifting across the curtains.

�� Harry�s
heart briefly became so still he could feel
the wash of coldness in his chest. Then it beat again, and he swallowed and
sat up. He understood this now, which meant he didn�t have to be afraid of it.
So he saw white Dementors. He knew it was the bloodline
curse, and so far that hadn�t hurt him, if you didn�t count welts and wounds
that went away after a little while.

�� There�s no reason to scream and wake anyone
up.

�� The white Dementor he�d seen at first multiplied, until a whole crowd
of them surrounded the bed, slowly circling it. Harry could feel their eyes on
him, though he couldn�t see those eyes, just like with ordinary Dementors.

�� He forced
himself to look away from them and back at the parchment he�d pulled from
beneath the bed. Spells, he told
himself firmly. Think of the names of
spells.

�� Then the
first white Dementor appeared on the parchment.

�� Harry
flinched and threw it away from him before he thought. It drifted to the floor
beside the bed, he knew that, but the way he saw it was that it swirled up and became part of the robe of one of
the Dementors. That Dementor
joined the others in their stately circling, but closer to the bed, so now
there were two rings of them.

�� The inner
ring was almost close enough to touch him.

�� Harry
gritted his teeth. Part of him wanted to call out for help, but what could
anyone in Gryffindor
Tower do? They weren�t Snapes and didn�t have this stupid fucking bloodline curse
on them. The only thing he could really do was go to Madam Pomfrey�which
he didn�t want to do unless he was actually suffering from things, because
since he had Obliviated her she wouldn�t know what to
do anyway�or to Snape.

�� And Harry
didn�t want to go to Snape. The bruise on his shoulder was a reminder of what
happened when he did. Maybe Snape hadn�t meant to do it, but Harry was still
going to give it a few days before he ventured within touching distance of the
bastard again. He could listen to Snape and try to act like they were related
and he could tolerate him without getting close enough to touch.

�� He lay
down, canceled the charm on his wand, and closed his eyes.

�� When the
first cold touch ran down his arm and he felt his skin pucker and then break,
Harry gritted his teeth and said nothing. He�d had worse.

*

�� Something
was wrong with Harry.

�� Draco was
certain of it. When he looked at him, Harry didn�t look back. When he spoke to
him, Harry took a minute to answer. When his friends were around him,
chattering, Harry stared at the wall instead of listening to their chatter the
way he always used to do.

�� That last
reaction was only right and rational, but not right for Harry, because his
brain was apparently meant to like mindless
chatter from Weasley and Granger.

�� But when
Draco tried to take it up with Harry, he only got strange looks and deliberate
turns of the conversation. And Harry kept shying away from him when Draco tried
to touch his shoulder or his arm, then acting offended and as if he didn�t know
what Draco was talking about when Draco tried to mention that.

�� Right now,
they were having another meeting to talk about the Horcrux
hunt, and Harry was cautioning Weasley and Granger not to mention the word �Horcrux� in front of anyone. Granger had looked guilty and
shaken her head. �I�m sorry, Harry,� she said. �I thought for sure that I�d set
silencing charms.�

�� Harry
smiled. �Don�t worry about it. But it might be best if we only talk about it in
secure rooms like this.� They were meeting in Umbridge�s
old office again, and once more Draco sat on one side of the room and Weasley
and Granger on the other, with Harry on his feet between them. They had adopted
that arrangement without discussion, as if it was natural.

�� What wasn�t natural was the way Harry was
swaying slightly back and forth. Draco could see it clearly. As much as it
would irritate Harry, he opened his mouth to ask about it. Granger would
immediately become concerned, even if Weasley didn�t, and the pressure of two
or three friends ought to be enough to force the truth from Harry where one
wouldn�t do it.

�� Then Draco
hesitated again, thinking of how irritated Harry had been when Professor Snape
and Draco had pulled that trick on him in the past.

�� But what if it�s a secret that really hurts
him? Is that different from the secrets about the Horcruxes
or his family?

�� Draco bit
his lip hard. It wasn�t, was it? Those secrets had hurt Harry, too, to the
point where they affected his physical and mental health, but Harry had still
defended them fiercely and insisted he was fine. What made Draco think that
this time would be different, or that Harry was privately yearning for someone
to ask and make him better?

�� What makes me think I have the right?

�� Draco shut
his mouth. No one had really noticed that he opened it, though Weasley gave him
a warning look, probably on general principles. Harry and Granger were talking
about two places where the Horcrux definitely was
not�Gryffindor Tower and the library�and about a spell
that Granger thought she could develop to force the Horcruxes
to reveal themselves.

�� Why did
you look in Gryffindor
Tower at all?� Draco
asked, so that he would look as if he were thinking about the search instead of
other things. �After all, the Dark Lord hates your lot, so he wouldn�t be
likely to hide a precious artifact there.�

�� Granger
shook her head and sat upright, looking very calm and adult and, to Draco�s
horror, a bit like his mother. �I don�t think we know enough about the Dark
Lord�s psychology to say that,� she began in a lecture-like tone. �After all,
on the one hand, he does hate us. He
considers himself the Heir of Slytherin, and that seems to mean fulfilling all
of Slytherin�s old prejudices. There�s no denying that. But he also knows that
his enemies know that fact. So he might have tried hiding it in Gryffindor Tower because he knew that was the one
place his enemies would never suspect.�

�� Draco
shivered. �I don�t think the Dark Lord is that complicated,� he said absently, thinking
about his meetings with him during the summer. �He prides himself on his
prejudices, yes, but he�s also mad. And he has no empathy at all. That limits
his ability to think like other people do. He thinks like himself, instead, and
he�s bloody proud of it.�

�� That�s
useful to know, Malfoy,� Weasley said, sitting up in turn and staring at him.
�Why did you never tell us that before?� His voice deepened, and his hand
strayed towards his wand.

�� Because I
didn�t think of it,� Draco snapped. �And because we were talking about the Dark
Lord�s magic before this, not his mind.� He found himself looking at Harry in
appeal, and wondered if he should. But there was no one else in the room who
was on his side.

�� He was just
in time to catch Harry shoving his sleeve back down over his arm, part of which
was a brilliant red. Draco narrowed his eyes. Did he scald himself? Or did someone cast a curse on him that he feels
like he ought to hide? But most of the time, he�s not going to hesitate to get
someone in trouble for doing something so stupid. I don�t understand...

�� Yes, we
were,� Harry said. Whatever his private concerns, it appeared that he could
still follow the conversation effortlessly. �Ron, you can�t blame Draco for not
mentioning every piece of knowledge he had about Voldemort right away, unless
you�re also going to blame me for not telling you about the Horcruxes
right away.� He moved so that he was more firmly between them than before, and
it wasn�t even subtle.

�� Weasley
grumbled something that Draco didn�t bother to pay attention to. He watched the
way that Harry folded his arms and tilted his head and wondered if he was
really doing it to keep his balance, the way it seemed.

�� I wish I knew what to do, how I could help
him without losing his trust, Draco thought wistfully.

�� Good,�
Harry said. �So, I think the next place we should look is the Slytherin common
room. Voldemort spent more time there than anywhere else when he was a student,
I should think.� He turned around, and Draco suddenly found himself the focus
of attention from three pairs of eyes. �Draco, can you do that for us?�

�� I can
teach you the spell that I�m developing to detect the presence of Dark magic in
the Horcruxes,� Granger offered eagerly.

�� Draco
looked down so that he wouldn�t show his astonishment at Granger being eager
about anything that involved him. He
looked mainly at Harry, and the pleading in his eyes, mingled with exhaustion.
It looked as if he hadn�t been getting enough sleep, but even if Draco only
mentioned that and nothing else, he would probably seem like he was too concerned.
Weasley would laugh and say that he wasn�t Harry�s mother.

�� Harry doesn�t have a mum, but he does have a
father.

�� Draco
clenched one fist against the temptation to run out the door immediately in
search of Professor Snape. He would be more than interested to hear about this.
He was one of the few people who could stand up to Harry in stubbornness and
who would do it consistently (Draco knew Granger was stubborn, too, but it
seemed that she yielded to Harry far too often). And Draco had already involved
him, a bit, by talking about Harry�s secrets where he could hear them.

�� But if he
ran to Professor Snape now, Draco knew he would lose every bit of Harry�s trust
he had.

�� He couldn�t
bear that. Besides, what if he was wrong and Harry was only tired and a bit
sick and hiding those things out of pride? Then Draco would have forced himself
away from Harry�s side for nothing, and in the meantime, when Harry really was in danger, he wouldn�t be near to
protect Harry from himself.

�� Draco
swallowed most of what he wanted to say and nodded. �All right,� he said. �But
I can�t say how long the search might take.�

�� Because
there�s so much Dark magic in Slytherin that we can�t be sure which bit comes
from the Horcrux?� muttered Weasley.

�� Among all
the worries and frustrations plaguing Draco at the moment, it was at least
pleasant to be able to nod to Weasley, say, �Exactly,� and watch the way his
mouth fell open.

�� That�s all
we ask, that you try,� Harry said, and his smile warmed Draco�s soul and
soothed a few of his fears�if only a few�about not saying something right away.

*

�� The
purging potions don�t work,� Harry said as he watched Severus�s latest attempt
turn to sludge on the bottom of the cauldron. �What else are we going to try?�

�� Severus
waited a moment so that he could listen to his son�s tone and analyze it. No,
it was not hostile. It was simply blank, as if Harry wanted to be sure that
disappointment and gloating alike were kept back.

�� Severus
looked at him. As he had done since he came in the door of the office for their
session that night, however, Harry avoided his gaze. He had cast a spell to
grow his fringe, Severus thought with slowly mounting annoyance, or else it was
being more obnoxious than he usually found it. It worked perfectly to shield
the boy�s eyes as well as his scar. Severus wondered when the day would come
that the boy realized hiding his scar did nothing to hide who he was and he
should look the world in the face.

�� I will
begin with an Entwining Potion,� Severus answered. �If we cannot purge the Horcrux from your soul, perhaps we can pull it out.�

�� What does
the Entwining Potion do?� Harry�s head rose, but only slightly. Severus set his
back teeth together with a quiet click. Once, he would have thought his dearest
desire was to see the boy�s head bowed with some semblance of humility. But not
only was it boring to see it so, it was worrisome. He wanted defiance and a
direct gaze. Even that dark smile and the blame he had seen the other day when
he bruised his shoulder would have been welcome, as a kind of life.

�� It tangles
together the essences of objects, and makes one into a magnet for the other,�
Severus said, letting himself fall into lecture mode as he summoned the
necessary potions from the shelves. It seemed safest. �Observe.� He decanted
the simplest of the Entwining Potions, the Metallic, and conjured pewter and
gold filings on the table before dripping the potion onto one of the particles
of gold.

�� It
glittered and briefly became covered with what looked like a transparent
umbrella as the potion analyzed the nearest metal to the gold. Severus smiled
grimly. He had once been so unwise as to use this potion without conjuring
another kind of metal that the gold could safely attract, and it had simply
reached for the nearest one in the immediate area, which was iron. Nails had
come flying out of the doors in a deadly hail, and Severus�s cauldrons had
disordered themselves so badly that he had been all day about placing them back
in their proper positions. While it was a useful property to know in case he
ever figured out a way to use it on an enemy, it was not an ability he was
anxious to demonstrate while showing the potion to his son.

�� He looked
again at Harry, but he had leaned forwards over the table. Nothing as
interesting as gold and pewter had ever existed, apparently.

�� Severus
glanced back at the gold filing, to look at something that would keep to its
normal course and enable him, in turn, to keep his patience. The umbrella had
settled back into the particle, and Severus nodded and picked it up. �Observe,�
he murmured, as he moved it above the table.

�� The pewter
filings sprang into motion, the first one connecting to the gold and the others
connecting either to it or to the other gold filings on the table. The boy
leaned forwards with his mouth open. Severus could see that much before he
picked up his jaw and obviously tried to look controlled and mature. Severus
permitted himself a smug smile. It was a minor potion, an obvious show compared
to the many subtle and wonderful things that his art could do, but at least it
impressed his son.

�� And it
allowed Severus to be in the same room with him with no chance of hurting him.

�� He grimaced
and shook his head, forcing himself to move past the lingering hurt for now. He
had seen too much of his own pain to find it interesting anymore. �So the
essences of gold and pewter are entwined,� he murmured, stirring the chain in
several directions to show the boy that the metals remained faithful to each
other. �The joining can be disrupted with a spell or another potion, but one
must shape either carefully. There are many different kinds of Entwining
Potions, and what works to part gold and pewter�� he uncorked the vial of a
grey liquid and scattered a few drops on the chain he held, to show the boy how
they clicked and fell apart ��will not work at all on a joining of stones, or
potions, or living flesh.�

�� Or souls,�
the boy breathed. He was gripping the edge of the table by now, and he stared
at the gold and pewter filings that still clung to each other as if they were
his salvation. �Can you really do that, though?� He blinked and looked up for
the first time. �And what two things would you be mingling the essence of,
anyway?�

�� It took
Severus an inexcusably long moment to answer. The green eyes were filled with
pain, dull with fatigue. He did not understand how he could have gone so long
without seeing this. Though it had been a few cautious days before Harry
returned to him after their last altercation, he had seen him in class and the
corridors since, and no signs of pain had revealed themselves.

�� Harry began
to draw back from him, shaking his fringe into place and lowering his face
again, and Severus hurried to respond.

�� Ideally,
we would be mingling the essence of the Horcrux and a
common object that we would only need to pass down your body,� Severus said.
�Then the piece of the Dark Lord�s soul would fly free and join to that object,
which could be destroyed in the same way that the Headmaster destroyed the other
Horcruxes he found.� He hoped that he kept his voice
sufficiently neutral when he spoke of Albus. On the other hand, the boy
appeared so involved in his own emotions at the moment that it might not have
mattered.

�� But it�s
already entwined in my soul,� Harry
said, sinking his fingers into his arms as if his firm grip would keep him in
place. It did not escape Severus�s eye that the boy shuddered and flinched in
the next instant and pulled his hands back hastily. �How are you going to pull
his soul away from my soul?�

�� That is
the question,� Severus admitted, mildly impressed by the boy�s intelligence in
spite of himself. �It might be that we will need two Entwining Potions. And
there are other options,� he added. �If this does not work, we will find something
else that does.�

�� Harry just
shut his eyes and shook his head. Severus did not think it was denial of his
words, but it did not express belief in them, either.

�� Harry moved
then, and his left sleeve fell heavily away from his arm. Harry gasped, and his
face went white.

Had it been anyone else, Severus
would have feared that the motion meant a new Dark Mark. But in this case,
there was no chance of that, and he was also quick enough to see that the
sleeve was soaked in blood and what looked like white powder.

�Luceo,� he said sharply.

�� Harry
whipped around towards him, mouth open in denial, but the spell had already
worked to conjure a special sort of light for Severus�s eyes that made the
cloth of Harry�s sleeves transparent.

�� His arms
were soaked with blood from large welts that took up more space, from his wrist
to his shoulder, than regular skin did. The welts resembled the ones Severus
had seen when the boy claimed to have seen the white Dementors,
but these were worse. Far worse.

�� And, from
the look of them, the boy had been concealing them for days at least. Perhaps
weeks.

�� He looked
up in time to meet Harry�s eyes, so furious that Severus actually froze. And
that was enough time for Harry to hiss, �How many times are you going to spy on
me?� and take off through the door of the office.

*

�� Harry
pounded along, his steps frantic, his breath whistling in his ears, his eyes
seeing the world as a ghost through a thick crowd of white Dementors
that kept perfect pace with him, his brain a whirl of betrayal.

�� Why can�t they just understand that I don�t
want to talk about it? Why can�t the bastard just leave me alone?

�� The white Dementors never left him alone now. His arms hadn�t stopped
bleeding for days. Harry knew that was bad, but he also just wanted to be left alone, and how could he tell Ron and
Hermione without explaining, and how he could he tell Snape or Draco without
admitting they were right and he was wrong to keep his secrets? He was so tired of being wrong.

�� Grass
hissed beneath his feet. He was beyond the school�s wards, he knew vaguely, and
a sharp root that made him stumble told him he was in the Forbidden Forest.
He kept running anyway. He wanted a private place, a place where no one could
find him.

�� Then the
grass did more than hiss at him. It gave way beneath him.

�� Harry
dropped heavily into darkness that did not seem to end, but even there, the
white Dementors followed him, and his arms ached and
burned.

*

�� ladyicondraco: Thank you! But I think it�s natural Harry
tries to fend off Snape�s advances in that direction, since he feels that he�s
grown up taking care of himself.

�� Dumbledore
is holding his distance for now and trying to make sure that, this time, he
approaches Harry in a way that can do him good.

�� SP777: I
don�t think there�s any final information on the fate of Tobias Snape in canon.
Here, I�m taking the position that both of Snape�s parents are dead.

�� I can�t
answer your other question yet.

�� k lave
demo: Thanks! And while I generally like Narcissa, I have written a few stories
where she is not at all supportive.

�� MewMew2:
Thank you!

�� thrnbrooke: Thanks! And yes, he�s trying, but for Harry,
his tries seem to go wrong when he tries to advise Harry or touch him.

�� Sneakyfox: Fortunately or unfortunately, Harry is aware of
that, and is working to prevent any more from coming out.

�� DTDY:
Thanks! I think it�s probably a bit stereotypical to have Narcissa�s mother be
so mean, but I can�t really see the Blacks as a loving, close family.
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Practicing Liars