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The Serenity of His Rage	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16981 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

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Chapter Twenty-Seven—A Lie Consciously Crafted

            “Goodness, Severus. You look as though you’d been wrestling werewolves.”

            Severus gritted his teeth and simply shook his head. He had once thought such passing references came from forgetfulness—Albus was intelligent, but had too many matters to juggle—or perhaps were some means of trying to reconcile him to Remus Lupin. Now he saw them in a different light.

            “Not werewolves,” he said, and took his seat in front of Albus’s chair, moving as though he had aches in his muscles instead of his magic. It wouldn’t do to let Albus know he had been casting Fiendfyre. “A Horcrux.”

            That made Albus lean forwards. Severus met his eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly. Albus knew he couldn’t get through Severus’s Occlumency walls by now, and so he wouldn’t try. That would protect more secrets than it usually did.

*

            Harry thought half the ideas in the strategy meeting had actually been Draco’s.

            “We can’t just do whatever we want, of course,” said Draco calmly. He was sitting next to the couch Snape had Transfigured into a bed in his quarters for Harry. Harry found this intensely embarrassing, but since no one else responded to his pleas to change the place, he’d had to accept it. “Dumbledore has to know something about our plans to change the bond.”

            “Change it?” Hermione was quick to pick up on that. “I thought you said you were going to sever it?”

            “Oh, I didn’t say that,” said Draco, and smiled at her. “Professor Snape was the one who came up with that idea. I don’t like the idea, so we’re not going to use it.”

            Harry, a little irritated at the thought that someone else’s objections got paid attention to, opened his mouth to protest. Draco contracted the bond in a way that felt like a pinch on his brain. Harry huffed and crossed his arms.

            “But no one else has ever changed the soul-bond in the way you want to do. Whereas they have severed a soul-bond.”

            “And do you know what the consequences are, Granger?”

            “Of course not. I haven’t had enough time to look them up yet.”

            Harry met Ron’s eyes over Hermione’s hand, and they grinned at each other. Hermione was up-front about what knowledge she already had and which parts she had to look up, and while Draco and Snape might find that exasperating, Harry was only glad of her honesty. It meant he had a good idea where all her knowledge came from and he could look at it for himself.

            Honestly, Hermione would probably be thrilled if he wanted to check up on it.

            “The consequences aren’t what anyone wants to endure.” Draco’s voice was a little softer than it had been, though, probably because Hermione had admitted her ignorance. Harry knew he found someone trying to pretend they knew something far worse than just not knowing. “They can result in damage to both souls.”

            Hermione gaped a little, but then her eyes narrowed, and she said, “Can result. It doesn’t mean it happens every time, does it? Or no one else would ever break a soul-bond. But sometimes, it must be worth the risk.”

            “Well, yes, sometimes,” said Draco, and Harry squeezed the bond, because Draco was venturing near the boundaries of condescending. “But since we won’t be breaking this bond, we don’t have to consider the question.”

            “You should think about breaking it, though. You heard what Professor Snape said about the Horcrux.”

            “But we’re going to alter it before then,” said Draco, serenely. “You’re going to look it up and figure out how we can do that, aren’t you, Professor Snape?”

            Harry glanced at Snape. The man looked as though he had barely heard Draco’s words. He was frowning at Harry. Harry blinked, then returned the stare with one of his own. He knew he hadn’t done anything to earn that particular look from Snape, which made it more irritating that he got subjected to it anyway.

            “How does the Horcrux feel?” Snape asked, when they had all fallen silent enough to listen. He spoke directly to Harry, and didn’t look at Draco or Hermione. Or Ron, for that matter, although Ron hadn’t been talking as much or appealed to him.

            Harry blinked and tried to concentrate. Now that he knew what a Horcrux felt like, he thought it ought to be easier. But then again, the piece of Voldemort’s soul had sat in him and felt like nothing much for years.

            Down the bond with Draco came a thrum of support and encouragement. Harry reached out towards that—

            And gasped.

            Snape sat forwards at once, his face so stern that Harry would have cringed for the inevitable loss of Gryffindor’s points in an ordinary situation. “Yes?”

            “It feels—strange,” Harry whispered, his eyes closed. He squeezed Draco’s hand, and without words, Draco knew what he needed and kept the flow of emotions clear and strong down the bond. “I can feel something that leads in the opposite direction from my bond with Draco. I don’t know how to explain it other than that. Something flowing in another direction, something dark and muddled where this is light and clear—”

            He reached out even harder after that unknown sensation, and ignored Hermione when she tried to ask him something and Draco when he tried to ask Snape something. He had to get hold of that feeling, or he might let it simply slip away.

            And yes, now that he knew what he was looking for, it was obvious, although maybe only because the Horcrux was more “awake” than it had been. There was something brooding in the back of his head. It “felt” like Voldemort had when their link was more open and Harry had been touching his mind in dreams. There were violent thoughts there, and hateful ones.

            In a way, it was a relief. Harry had been Voldemort when he dreamed, and it was horrifying to wake up and realize that he’d felt the desire to torture or kill someone as though it was his own. But the Horcrux was separate, and Harry thought he might even be able to isolate it or drive it out of himself with appropriate training.

            “—arry!”

            Harry jumped and opened his eyes. He hadn’t felt Draco shaking him. He gave him a faint smile and turned to Snape. “I can feel it,” he said. “It’s isolated from me, now, and it sits there wanting things I don’t want.”

            Snape gave an even fiercer frown. “Good. But while what you describe accurately reflects what I saw in your mind, that does not mean you would be able to stop the Horcrux if it reached out for Draco.”

            Harry hesitated, distressed. Again Draco was the one to answer, and the bond vibrated as though he was forcing something thicker through it than it could carry. Honey, Harry thought, bathing in the sweetness when it actually reached him. The sweetness of trust and belief. Draco wanted to be with him no matter what the consequences were.

            Even if Harry couldn’t, in good conscience, allow that, it was good to know Draco wanted to.

            “We’ll find some way to contain it,” Draco said. “You told me once that you could do remarkable things with Occlumency, Professor.”

            “I know of no way to contain this.”

            “But if two people in a soul-bond know Occlumency and one of them managed to teach the other when he had no skill at it—” Draco skillfully ignored the little jab of irritation Harry sent at him “—then they might be able to contain it. Don’t you think so? Better than a soul-bond where neither had any Occlumency, anyway.”

            “The problem is that we do not know.” Snape’s face was tight, and Harry stared at him, wondering for the first time if some of it came from anguish rather than anger. “We will not know until we do some experiments. And I refuse to use you as the testing ground for those experiments.”

            Harry thought he was looking mostly at Draco, but his eyes shifted to take in Harry, too. That was a surprise. Harry lay there and thought about it while Draco and Snape tangled.

            “We could do research—”

            “I have been for the past few hours.” Snape waved the book he had been clutching like a cross. “There is nothing in any of the works on Occlumency or soul-bonds that I am familiar with that brings this up.”

            “There must be some books that you’re not familiar with.”

            “Very few.”

            Hermione spoke at last, and her voice was soft, but it pierced through the argument anyway. “What about what we’re going to tell Dumbledore? I think we need to worry about that right now more than whether it’s possible to do what Malfoy wants to do.”

            From the thrum of the bond in Harry’s head, Draco disagreed, but Snape sighed and slowly massaged his forehead as if he would get better results that way than a fast massage. “Yes, we must. He will probably know that something has happened, simply because we all vanished at once. But what do you suggest we tell him?”

            And again it was Draco who leaned forwards and said, “There’s one thing that he’ll always believe, given his distrust of me.”

*

            “And you say Mr. Malfoy came up with this idea?”

            “He did,” said Severus, and let doubt paint his face and drip down his voice. It was no longer as hard as it once would have been with Albus, because Severus no longer believed that Albus had everyone’s best interest in mind. “He said that transferring the Horcrux to him would leave Potter free of it, and I must admit that it seems as if it would.”

            Albus focused on the far wall, tapping a finger against the desk. Severus waited. He had told Albus that they had slain the diadem with a basilisk fang Severus had taken from the Chamber because he was interested in the properties of the venom for potions. Since Severus had gone to the Chamber this morning and indeed retrieved a fang to make the lie truth, he was not worried about being detected.

            That idea had been his contribution to their mutual defense. But the other parts of the lie and the plan had been Draco’s.

            Severus sincerely hoped he would never find himself on the wrong end of a plan from Draco. The boy was becoming a master, although only perhaps because he had less to lose now and new things to gain, with his mother dead, his father rescued, and his bonded in danger.

            “No,” said Albus abruptly. Severus started and then hid his relaxation. Albus had reacted exactly as Draco had thought he would.

            “No,” said Albus again, shaking his head and staring deeply into Severus’s eyes. Severus had to let him do it now, but he readied shields behind his shields. “I don’t think Draco Malfoy could possibly be that generous. What do you think lies behind the suggestion?”

            Severus let himself hesitate a moment too long before shrugging. “I have no idea. I think he does care for Potter, and—”

            “Severus. How long have we been comrades, fighting for the good of the world?”

            Never, Severus wanted to answer. I was fighting for Lily, and I think now that you were doing something else entirely than what I assumed.

            But he only nodded a little as if Albus’s words had struck home, which let Albus go on, smoothly, persuasively. “I know you care for Draco as a student and someone of Slytherin House, but there are things that matter more than House loyalty.”

            There are. There are indeed. And you created one of them when you bonded Draco to Potter. How is it that you don’t understand that, after all this time?

            Of course, it was Albus’s gullibility and lack of understanding that they were exploiting at the moment, so perhaps Severus should be grateful instead of exasperated. But he could not find the gratitude inside him that he perhaps should have, so he only lowered his eyes and nodded.

            “Good,” Albus said softly. “So. I need your thoughts, as someone who does understand Slytherins, on why Mr. Malfoy would have done this.”

            Severus pretended to ponder, while inwardly he marveled at how the situation had played out exactly as Draco had thought it would. Draco might not be a good manipulator when it came to most people, and he had grown worse since he had decided that Potter mattered so much to him. But he saw further into Albus than Albus did into him.

            “I suppose,” said Severus at last, the prepared lie dragging at his throat, “that Draco plans to use the flaw in the middle of any soul-bonding ceremony to destroy the Horcrux shard of soul instead of letting it attach to him. It is the only possible solution to the problem that might occur to him.”

            “The flaw in the middle of any soul-bonding ceremony?”

            “That two souls do not want to be linked to each other and have their natural boundaries, of necessity,” Severus said calmly. “You know we needed both Potter and Draco to consent to the ritual we put them through. And we needed that similarity of the Dark Mark and the Horcrux behind Potter’s scar.”

            “Yes,” said Albus, but not as if he was convinced.

            “The Horcrux cannot consent in the same way, and would not want to be bound to Draco,” said Severus. “It would fight if we tried to move the shard of soul. But that it can be moved, we know, because the Dark Lord removed them from himself in the first place to put them into objects, and this one tore loose to attach itself to Potter.”

            “Severus. I do wish you would call him by his name, instead of that silly title that implies respect.”

            Severus did not waste his breath in saying that he found the name “Voldemort” itself sillier than the Dark Lord title. “So. If we began a soul-bonding ceremony between Draco and the shard, the shard would fight. There would be at least a moment when it was spending more time fighting us than focusing on Draco. And Draco could use a spell to destroy it.”

            “What kind of spell?”

            “A Dark Arts spell.”

            Severus met Albus’s eyes fearlessly now. Of course only that kind of spell would qualify as one that would destroy a soul. And Albus knew that. He was only trying to make Severus admit to that in the hope—futile by now, he should know—that that would somehow change or challenge Severus’s allegiance.

            Albus sighed the rattling sigh of a disappointed old man. His blackened hand flexed for a moment. Severus regarded it with an expert eye. Time for another dose of the potion soon that should slow and control the curse.

            And he was no longer sure that the draught he had brewed in the past was sufficient to halt the curse. He would probably have to strengthen the dittany.

            “So,” Albus whispered. “That is what he wants to do. He still does not believe me that the best way to destroy the Horcrux is to have Harry die at the hands of Voldemort.” He lifted his head and surveyed Severus intensely. “There is the chance that he could return, Severus. That the Killing Curse would destroy only the Horcrux and not Harry. I am not certain, so I didn’t want to hold it out as a sure hope. But there is the chance, Severus.”

            A chance that people other than you would take, so you don’t care about it as much.

            There was even the chance that Albus thought he would die before Potter did, so he need not witness what he’d wrought. The thought made Severus swallow a mixture more foul than bile and keep his eyes on the Headmaster as he spoke.

            “I think Draco would prevent us from playing those odds.”

            “He has so much devotion to someone who was his enemy such a short time ago,” said Albus, in honest wonder. “Why?”

            If you had read more about how soul-bonds work before you decided to bind them with one, Albus, then you would know. But Severus refrained from saying so. Albus probably knew that already and was watching Severus’s reaction to his words to try and trick him into something. Severus contented himself with a little sneer.

            “Who knows? You seem to think that Potter has the ability to charm people—an ability I have seen no evidence of.”

            “Perhaps it did work with Mr. Malfoy.” Albus gave a determined nod. “Regardless, Severus, I hope that you will encourage him away from all thoughts of Dark Arts spells and doing things that may prove—unfortunate when it comes to Harry. We will find a way around the Horcrux ourselves. We need only hold young Mr. Malfoy in limbo for a while longer.”

            Severus inclined his head and stood. “When will we begin the next phase of the Horcrux hunt?”

            “There is one place I have refrained from looking because it is indeed formidable, and I do not know how to assault it.” Albus gave another sigh, the kind that encouraged the whole world to sigh with him. “I will need to spend some time thinking before I come up with a good plan. But the first priority, of course, is to make sure that the Horcrux is located there at all.”

            “Yes, Albus,” said Severus. He wondered if Albus would notice how close it was to a Slytherin student saying “Yes, Headmaster,” but he doubted it. He turned away and started towards the staircase.

            “Oh, by the way, Severus…”

            Severus turned and raised an eyebrow. Albus had stood behind his desk and watched him now with that twinkle which masked all manner of faults.

            “I do wonder how you destroyed the Horcrux with a basilisk fang,” he murmured, “when both of them are in my possession.”

            Severus rolled his eyes then. “Did you replace one of the fangs with an illusion, Headmaster?” he asked, making sure to keep his face calm and bland. “It must have been after we used it, then. I am sure the one in my possession is real.”

            Albus stared at him, and for the first time in years, Severus felt a brush against his Occlumency walls. Severus stared back, undaunted but quietly furious. He and Albus knew certain things about each other. They had bargains.

            If Severus was not going to be able to count on the nature of those bargains any longer, his life would become dangerous indeed.

            But in the meantime, this childish attempt to trap them would not work. Severus knew the fang he had was real. He had watched the basilisk poison work on a mouse this morning, and not the most skilled replica could reproduce the effects of the venom.

            After a moment, Albus chuckled and waved a hand. “Only teasing, Severus. I took one, in fact. I thought it would be interesting to have on hand in case I encounter a Horcrux alone.” He looked at his hand, and the teasing fled his expression, leaving behind the melancholy layer that he sometimes convinced Severus always backed his emotions. “So that Harry does not have to make the same decisions I did.”

            The same boy you are bound and determined is going to die because he doesn’t have a choice? But Severus restrained the urge to lash out. He only nodded, so expressionless he defied Albus to find a crack in his surface. “That was wise of you, Headmaster.”

            He left before Albus could come up with any more delaying tactics, his steps so rapid on the stairs that he nearly stumbled off them before they finished turning.

            He will not conquer or hold me. Not this time.

*

            SP777: If you come up with another version of the idea, let me know.

            HP1990: Thank you! I’m glad that you were impatient enough to read it anyway. ;)
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The Serenity of His Rage