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Ceremonies of Strife	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16218 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money from this writing.

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Chapter
Twenty-Six�Making Plans

�� Dear Draco:

�� Matters would be much easier if you yielded
to your father.

�� That was
the first sentence of the latest letter his mother had sent, at least on the
surface, and the only one that mattered. The other sentences were all variants
of the original idea, twining around each other in the sort of nest of writhing
word-snakes that Narcissa was so good at. Draco skimmed the letter, just so he
could be familiar with what his father would see if it came to that, and then
read the hidden message.

�� It was
short, and discouraging.

�� The potion is not taking effect, or taking
effect in only a few distortions of his ideas. I fear what will happen next. He
is not violent towards me, but talks more often of forcing you to obey him.

�� Draco had
spent the night revising Dark potions and spells of the kind that Lucius might
use, and finding none that could be cast or employed from such a distance.

�� Unless, of
course, Lucius contacted one of the other trainees or the Aurors under a false
name and persuaded them to do as he said�

�� Draco
closed his eyes. His eyes ached from the late night, and his mind ached from
trying to imagine and counter all the possibilities. And he had a full day of
classes, as well as a meeting with Harry, Ventus, Granger, and Weasley later
that night to try to figure out what they were going to do about Nihil and
Wiltshire. He really wanted to crawl into bed and go to sleep, but he knew he
couldn�t.

�� He sighed
and started to shove the books he�d been looking at back into place on the
library shelves, then jumped as someone touched his shoulder. He whipped
around, hand on his wand, his tongue buzzing with some of the spells he�d just
been reading that he could use to defend himself.

�� Harry shook
his head as if Draco�s abnormal behavior were completely normal and took the
nearest book from him, slotting it neatly back into place. �Relax,� he
murmured. �It�s all right. I came to look for you because I could feel that you
weren�t in the right place. I�ll help you back to bed and tell everyone that
you�ve made yourself sick with too much studying, which is certainly the
truth.� He slung his shoulder under Draco�s arm and held it there as he picked
up the books, studying them for a moment before replacing them on the shelves.

�� Draco
watched him hazily. He didn�t think Harry was putting all the books back properly,
but he also didn�t think Harry would care. �What do you mean, about feeling
me?� he whispered.

�� That sense
of each other that Weston and Lowell taught us?� Harry asked, as if he expected
Draco not to remember. He snorted a little when Draco gave him a blurry glare.
�It was troubling me. I�kind of know where you should be at each point of the
day. And you weren�t in bed, so I finally had to get up and come see what you
were doing. I thought you might be lying wounded in the library or something.�
He mumbled the last words, his face flushing brilliantly.

�� Oh,� Draco
said at last, when it felt as though far more time had passed than should have
while he contemplated that. �Well. I�m fine.� But he let his hand rest more
heavily on Harry�s shoulder than usual, because Harry had cared enough to come
find him.

�� And Harry
had probably been practicing with their sense of each other, too, at least more
than Draco had. Draco didn�t think he could have pinpointed Harry�s location
that precisely.

�� You�re
not, or why you would be researching in the library at three in the morning?�
Harry retorted. He put back the last book and then wrapped his arm around
Draco�s shoulder, escorting him openly towards his rooms. Draco thought about
objecting, and then realized that few people would probably be taken by
surprise, given that they had reconciled more or less openly.

�� Do you
want to tell me about it?� Harry asked.

�� Draco
blinked. Harry�s voice had the tone that told him Harry had asked the question
more than once. �No,� he said. �Not right now. I mean. Maybe later.� His words
stumbled over each other, and he would have liked to give a more adequate
explanation, but he lacked the brainpower to do that at the moment.

�� Harry
seemed to accept it, because he nodded and murmured, �Just remember that
whatever hurts you, hurts me.�

�� There were
all sorts of things Draco could have said to that, most of them sarcastic.
Instead, he shut his eyes and let himself be carried. When they got to the
bedroom, Harry tucked him into bed and lingered for a moment, hand resting on
Draco�s forehead, as if he wanted to reassure himself that Draco wasn�t running
a fever.

�� Draco
opened his eyes and took Harry�s hand in his, kissing it.

�� Harry�s
face flushed for a different reason, and he stared at Draco for a time before
shaking his head. �I hope you feel better,� he said. �Don�t worry, I�ll tell
all the instructors that you�re sick.� He broke free then, and walked to the
door.

�� Good
night,� Draco called after him, dreamily certain that it was important he say
it, though he couldn�t remember why.

�� Harry
paused and looked over his shoulder. He was silhouetted against the light from
the doorway, and Draco wanted to warn him that could be dangerous with an enemy
watching. Then he frowned. Where were they? The barracks, or the Death Eater
cache, or a battlefield in Wiltshire?

�� Good
night,� Harry replied quietly, and then shut the door. The light closed off,
and Draco fell into oblivion.

*

�� Why
haven�t we told the instructors about this? The instructors in the Fellowship,
at least. I know that we can�t really trust the others.�

�� Harry
sighed noiselessly. This was Hermione�s latest argument against acting on their
own in Wiltshire. It was their second meeting since they had decided they could
trust Ventus, and they still weren�t close to forming a coherent plan.

�� Harry could
understand why she objected. Except for Draco, none of them really knew the
country well, and sending five people up against Nihil sounded crazy in a way
that sending a hundred War Wizards didn�t. And they still hadn�t decided on
what they wanted to learn about Nihil, the information they would try to gain
that would make all the risk worth it. On the face of it, they were doing a
dangerous and a mad thing, and Hermione didn�t want one of them to get hurt or
die.

�� But even
Ron was starting to look impatiently at her now, although it was Ventus who
answered. �I do not know who the instructors are in this Fellowship of yours,�
she said, spreading her hands over the map, which was flat on a table, �since
you will not tell me. But I will share this information only with the four of
you. I do not know about you, but I have found my comitatus.�

�� That�s
Latin,� Hermione said, frowning at her.

�� It is,�
Ventus said blandly, and then bent over the map, drawing a red line of her own
with her wand up the side of some hills, and said nothing else.

�� Hermione
frowned more fiercely. Ron touched her shoulder and started to explain, but
Draco�s cool voice sliced through his words. To Harry�s relief, Ron only rolled
his eyes before listening.

�� A
comitatus was a band of wizards who fought together in the days when the
wizarding community in each country was disunited and a war was less likely to
involve destroying central structures,� Draco said, as easily as if he had the
book he must have learned the definition from in front of him. Harry looked carefully
at him, but Draco seemed normal after his late night and day of sleep, if a
little pale. �Each had a specific role to play. They acted together, always,
and were loyal only to one another.� He turned to Ventus. �An unusual word to
use for us, when we have never fought together and you know that the four of us
form pairs that leave you out.�

�� Ventus
laughed. Harry started. The sound was light and normal, dancing like a
rain-shower, and he didn�t think he�d ever heard her do it before. �I care most
about loyalty to fighting,� she said. �And I will trust you until you prove
that you can�t be trusted.�

�� When will
you know that?� Harry had to ask.

�� Ventus gave
him a contemplative look. �In battle.�

�� And you
don�t at all care about not being able to trust us before that?� Hermione
demanded. Harry thought she was bothered more by Ventus�s calm than she would
have been by struggle and argument from Draco. During the last few days,
Hermione had calmed down around Draco, though she hadn�t completely stopped
giving him evil looks or watching him with doubt, ready to pounce if he made a
mistake.

�� But she
hadn�t had any such fight with Ventus, so perhaps that made it easier for her
to express her disbelief openly there.

�� Of course
not,� Ventus said. �Outside battle, anyone can lie. I wasn�t with you when any
of you took Veritaserum, though I�m sure all of you have. I haven�t been
friends with you for years. I�m not your lover.� Hermione�s face flamed, and
she cast a look at Ron, the way she tended to do if someone mentioned romance,
Harry had noticed. �I can listen to your boasts and your ideas, but I won�t know that they�ll pan out until I see
you in action. Action is the final test.�

�� Hermione
scowled. �That�s insane.�

�� It�s the
way I am,� Ventus said. �Many things that make sense in my world would be mad
in yours, I suspect.� Her wand moved sideways, and she whispered an
incantation. A sparkling white line joined the red one on the map.

�� What plans
are you making?� Draco asked, leaning forwards. He had apparently taken the
sensible position that, since they couldn�t make sense of what Ventus was
thinking anyway, they should ask about what she was doing. Hermione at least
was quiet. Ron patted her shoulder in camaraderie, and Harry thought he looked
at Ventus a bit more thoughtfully than before. He didn�t interrupt, though, and
Harry was grateful for that. He wasn�t asking for his best friends to be
perfectly reconciled to this, just to think about it a bit more before they
reacted and consider what impact their words could have on other people.

�� We must
draw Nihil out,� Ventus said. She looked up from the map, and Harry stared. She
wore a smile that had transformed her face, and she reached out and made a
clenching gesture in the air with one hand, as if grasping the reins of an
invisible horse. �We know that large-scale attacks like the ones the War
Wizards have tried do not work.�

�� They might
if they had someone competent directing one,� Draco muttered.

�� Ventus
seemed deaf to this. �So we make a series of small, darting attacks instead. We
appear in the middle of what the War Wizards think is the battlefield, close to
a spot where the walking dead have been spotted.� Her eyes shone with malicious
enjoyment, and Harry thought it was the most normal she had looked. �We cast a
glamour on a bit of the material they took from Nemo�s beasts when he attacked
the Ministry, to make it seem as if we�ve reconstructed the whole thing.�

�� Harry
caught his breath. Draco was staring, and Ron and Hermione seemed to have
frozen, so it was up to him to state the obvious. �That ought to bring him
running if anything will.�

�� Ventus
closed her eye in a slow wink at him. �Exactly.�

�� But how
are we going to get hold of one of those samples?� Hermione asked, recovering.
�It�s all stored in Pushkin�s labs, and if he�s done any more experiments with
it, we haven�t heard about them.�

�� How did I
get hold of the map from the War Wizards?� Ventus asked.

�� But this
isn�t something we can copy and put back,� Ron said, exchanging a concerned
glance with Hermione. �I really think that he�ll notice it�s gone.�

�� Leave that
to me,� Draco said. He was drawing his wand between his fingers, a small smile
on his face that Harry didn�t like. �I know someone who has an enormous talent for
glamours. I believe he can reconstruct the piece we steal well enough to fool
Pushkin, as long as I send him a good description.�

�� Harry
winced. He knew who Draco was talking about; Draco had told him enough about
how Lucius had escaped Azkaban for Harry to know that. But he hated to think
about how much it would cost Draco.

�� He tried to
catch Draco�s eye, but Ventus nodded and said, �That will do nicely. And we
will have other glamours working, glamours that will make it seem as if we have
learned their secrets about Apparating in and out of warded buildings.�

�� Let me see
the map,� Ron said suddenly.

�� Ventus
handed it to him without pause or comment. Harry wondered if that was strange,
and then told himself to give up on the wondering. Thanks to their questioning
of Ventus under Veritaserum, they knew she could be trusted with the large
things. They would grow used to having her in the group eventually, and until
then, it would be worse than nothing to lunge after every gesture she made and
question it.

�� Ron bent
over the parchment and studied it in silence for a few moments, then smiled.
�These are the best hiding places,� he said, indicating several areas on the
map in between the lines that the War Wizards and Ventus had drawn.

�� How do you
know?� Draco asked, with a charged tone that made Harry decide he was thinking
about the Weasley and Malfoy feud, and whether the Weasleys might ever have
spied out Malfoy Manor. �Have you ever been in Wiltshire?�

�� Anyone
could see it from looking at the map,� Ron replied, so mildly that Harry
thought he hadn�t really noticed who was asking the question.

�� Anyone who
played chess as much as you do,� Hermione said, looking proudly and fondly at
Ron.

�� Harry
relaxed. Hermione might be more reconciled to this trap they were going to set
if Ron could contribute to the plan.

�� Create a
list of the hiding places,� Draco ordered, pushing parchment and ink across the
table to Ron. Ron started scribbling without looking away from the map. He even
paused now and then, tilting his head, as if he were listening to a quiet
voice. �Granger, Ventus, start constructing the glamours we�ll need to make
Nihil and company think we�ve stumbled on their secrets. Harry and I will be in
charge of taking the sample from Pushkin and getting it copied enough to fend
off suspicion.� He gave a feral smile as he rose to his feet. �I already know
what sample I want to use�one that�s complex enough that Pushkin shouldn�t
immediately think of a glamour, but simple enough for my�associate to easily
copy.�

�� Ventus
turned to Hermione and described a glittering arc through the air with her
wand, chattering away in a low voice. Hermione looked reluctant at first, but
suddenly opened her eyes wide and leaned nearer. Harry smiled. Yes, that was
her look when a new subject intrigued her, and from this point on, Ventus
probably wouldn�t be able to drive her away with a Cruciatus Curse.

�� Only when
he and Draco left the room did Harry realize that Draco had given out the
orders and everyone had obeyed him as naturally as Ventus had claimed they
would.

*

�� It was
perhaps the hardest thing he had ever done.

�� Draco
filled his inkwell. He picked up his quill and made sure it was sharpened to a
careful point. He spread a fresh sheet of parchment out in front of him and
shut his eyes, trying to see the words spilling across the paper in his mind as
he could not see them in reality yet.

�� He waited,
and still no inspiration came to him, no miracles of wording or subtle tricks
that would make his father agree to what Draco wanted without revealing at
least part of Draco�s weakness in having to beg.

�� Can you do
this?�

�� Harry�s
voice came from the side, so low and calm that Draco could pretend it was the
voice of his own conscience if he wanted to. So that was what he did, answering
without opening his eyes. �Yes. I have to. More, I promised Ventus that I
would, and she�s not the kind of person that you break promises to.�

�� She would understand.�
Harry reached out and took his fingers, squeezing them hard enough that Draco
felt the blood leave them for a moment. Then he released them, and tingling
rushed back into the fingertips. Draco shook them and hissed. �She has so much
faith in you that she would accept that you couldn�t do it,� Harry continued, �and
she would be able to come up with something else. She�s a lot more intelligent than
I thought she was at first.�

�� Draco
sighed. �And what do you think your friends would say?� It was so much easier
talking to Harry with his eyes shut that he resolved to remember the tactic for
the future when he was exasperated. �Something very complimentary, no doubt, about my inability to do as I had
promised.�

�� They�re
still learning their way around trusting you,� Harry said, �but the latest
reasons for that are my fault, not yours. They�d be a lot more comfortable with
you if I hadn�t fucked it all up with the necromancy.�

�� Draco
opened his eyes, because he had to see the expression on Harry�s face just
then. Harry was leaning forwards across the table, his eyes bright and fixed on
Draco. It struck Draco that this was one of the few times Harry had been in his
rooms since their row. If it bothered him, or if he had memories leaping from
every piece of furniture, as Draco knew he would have in the same situation,
Harry didn�t show it.

�� I never
thought you would say that,� Draco murmured.

�� Once, I
never thought so, either.� Harry met his gaze, and Draco could see a few beads
of sweat forming on his brow this time, but he kept speaking with no apparent
effort. �I was stupid enough to think I could just do the necromancy and then
back away from it and put it down once I had what I wanted.�

�� Draco
blinked. He had to know this, even though he should be thinking about how he
would write his letter to Lucius, not thinking about the wound they had managed
to cure. �Quite apart from the addictive effects of the necromancy,� he said, �what
did you think we would say about several dead
people suddenly coming back to life?�

�� That�s why
I was a fool,� Harry said, lifting and then dropping one shoulder. �I never thought
that far ahead. I didn�t dare to. If I had, then maybe I would have realized
how stupid it was.� He paused, blinking at a corner of the ceiling. �And maybe
that�s why I could turn away from it more easily than otherwise,� he added
softly. �Because I�d had that nagging suspicion all along that I shouldn�t do
it, that there was something wrong beneath the surface.�

�� Draco could
have said many things, but he contented himself with a small nod and close attention
to the surface of the parchment. It wasn�t less blank for all his talk with
Harry, but he did feel better about
it than he had.

�� And he had
decided on his course of action, because there was only so much left once he
had discarded the absolutely unacceptable. He grimaced and began to write,
beginning with his father�s full and formal address.

�� To Lucius Malfoy, head of the Malfoy Line,

�� I come to you asking not for complete
surrender, but for compromise. You would despise me if I crawled to your feet,
panting and licking like a dog, and asked you to forgive me. But I can come to
you as the leader of a nation defeated in war and ask for good terms, can I
not?

�� There is a certain thing I need done, and no
one but you has the skill in glamour to do it. A piece of an animal�s body must
be removed from the labs of one of my instructors. He will notice that it is
gone and be able to deduce who took it by means of spells that I can only guess
at�unless he never has the chance to notice its disappearnace.

�� Will you create a glamour of the body part
for me, and send it to me so that I can substitute it for the reality? You have
the skill. You and no one else.

�� In return, I will come to you at the end of
this month and admit that I was wrong. I will accept a temporary betrothal to
Astoria Greengrass, but not one compelled by the betrothal spell. I will
negotiate like the leader I wish to become and not like the disobedient child I
have acted.

�� The body part is a small piece of spine
bone, with three vertebrae, each with a half-inch between them. The bone is
white, slightly curved between the vertebrae, and with a sheen reminiscent of polished
alabaster. The top of the bone has a black smudge the size and thickness of my
index finger.

�� If you agree, then send me a package
containing the glamour and a letter naming the date and place when I am to
surrender to you.

�� Your son,

�� Draco.

�� He set the
letter aside until he thought he could deal with reading the treacherous words
and looked up at Harry. Harry came to him at once and squeezed his hand with a
savagery that made Draco�s eyes water and his fingers tingle again. But that
was better than being by himself, and he leaned against Harry and closed his
eyes, letting his breathing calm from its rushing pace.

�� He heard
Harry shifting around so that he could read the letter. Then Harry said, in a
brittle, calm voice, �What will you do to get out of the betrothal?�

�� Nothing.�
Harry surged against him even though he didn�t move, and Draco added, �I don�t
need to, because I�ll never agree to it. I�m not going to the meeting with my
father.�

�� There was
silence, while Harry did nothing except touch his hair. Then Harry murmured, �I
don�t understand.�

�� Draco
sighed. �I have two advantages in this situation that my father doesn�t. First,
everyone thinks he�s in Azkaban right now. They�ll think that he�s dead soon.
He can�t move openly to reveal himself, and he�s paranoid enough that I doubt
he would trust any allies.�

�� Harry
nodded, cheek moving against Draco�s.

�� Second,�
Draco said, and flexed his fingers and opened his eyes, �he trusts me. He
thinks I�ll keep my word if I�m going to humble myself to him at all. And he
believes that I believe in the family
honor, and that I love the idea of being a Malfoy more than I love you.�

�� What
happens when he realizes you don�t?� Harry�s voice was tiny, dazed, and Draco
knew he was deliberately avoiding the revelation Draco had just given him.

�� Then I
sacrifice that advantage,� Draco answered.

�� He didn�t
speak of what else he was sacrificing. Harry bent over and touched his lips to
the skin behind Draco�s ear to show he understood.

*

�� polka dot:
They should!

�� thrnbrooke:
She may be a bit crazed, but not a stalker.

�� SP777: But
without arguments and drama and so on, there would be no story! Simply mindless
fluff.

�� I don�t
really enjoy seeing Harry submissive or dominant, most of the time. There are
times I�ll seek out fics like that because I�m in the mood to read it right at
the moment, but I don�t really take them seriously or read them for more than a
few minutes at a time. (Especially because most stories like that are fairly short,
so it�s hard to get into them). The times I was asked to write stories like
that, I did it as either humor or very surreal fic, which was a way of letting
myself take it �seriously� for long enough to write it.

�� Dragons
Breath: Yes, but as Harry points out in this chapter, most of that problem is a
result of the recent argument. Hermione and Ron were slowly drifting back into
accepting Draco before Harry fucked it up again.

��
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Ceremonies of Strife