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Seasons of War	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9694 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter
Twenty-Eight�Moving Forwards

�� We have
not been able to recover the eye.�

�� Holder had
told Draco that yesterday morning. Draco had nodded as if he had expected the
news, and saved his silent staring at the wall for after she left.

�� He should have expected it, he told
himself. Even if the Aurors had more resources and time to devote to the
research than Draco�which they certainly did�that didn�t mean they would
necessarily find one eye torn out by a magically conjured beast and lost
somewhere in the vast void between the worlds. Or had the Dark Argus taken him
into that void after all? Draco didn�t know.

�� There was
only one way that the news came as a relief. He could put aside any plans that
centered on recovering his original eye, and start thinking about others.

�� Which was
why he was standing in front of Portillo Lopez right now, while she examined
his face and the scars on his cheeks, probing with gentle fingers that
nevertheless made Draco wince. Then she lifted up the eyelid and probed into
the socket, and Draco stepped back before he thought about it. The socket
burned no more than the scars did, but there was something unexpectedly intimate about the invasion. He didn�t
want any member of Portillo Lopez�s Order thinking they deserved intimacy from
Draco.

�� What are
you doing?� he snarled. They stood outside the radius of the camp, beyond the
tents, in one of the protected fields, and most of the Aurors and the trainees,
except the comitatus, had stayed far from him since he rejoined the classes.
Even the Aurors Draco knew were his allies didn�t seem comfortable around him.
He would have said, cuttingly, that losing an eye wasn�t catching, but he knew
they didn�t really fear that. What they feared was more complex and ran deeper
in them.

�� Portillo
Lopez didn�t fear him, though. She worked with a mostly unemotional coldness
that Draco found more disturbing, in some ways, than the avoidance of the
others.

�� I tested
the skin from the socket,� she explained, picking up a vial of what looked like
burned black flakes. Draco reckoned that was what was left of his skin after
she had finished testing it. �It told me nothing distinctive. In fact, if you
were to ask me, I would say that it was skin that had never been touched by
magic.�

�� Skin that
was dead,� Draco finished with bleak pleasure. He should have suspected that,
after what the Dark Argus had done to him.

�� Portillo
Lopez frowned at him. �Dead skin and skin that has never been touched by magic
are not the same. Muggles are not dead.�

�� Might as
well be,� Draco muttered and turned away, his arms wrapped closely around
himself. He was not looking forwards to the tests that he thought Portillo
Lopez would have to perform on him, at least if he was to get a magical eye.
And he was feeling more out of sorts than normal, since it was much harder to
read and write after the loss of his eye than he had thought it would be. He
deserved a few days to feel sorry for himself.

�� They�re
not,� Portillo Lopez said, and there was steel in her voice. �I know the
difference.�

�� Draco
paused and glanced over his shoulder at her. He reckoned she did, after all,
know that. �All right,� he said finally. �But what does that mean for my
magical eye?�

�� It limits
your choices,� Portillo Lopez said. Draco snorted. Of course it did. Everything limits my choices nowadays. �Most
magical eyes come to rest on top of a magical injury. They connect with the
latent power in the injury, as well as the magic in the body of the wizard they
belong to, and work that way. Even if the magic is Dark, that doesn�t prevent
the eye from being of some benefit.�

�� Draco
thought that was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. Who designed magical replacements for
missing body parts so that they would work because of the power left behind by
cutting them off? �What you�re saying is that I can�t get a magical eye.�

�� I would
have told you if I meant that,� Portillo Lopez said, immune as ever to
disapproval. �What I mean is that
you�ll have to get a different kind of magical eye. They are available, luckily
for you.�

�� Draco
paused and considered that. It was actually pleasant to know that he still had
a choice. Perhaps the limitation on the number of choices was even reassuring,
although it didn�t feel like that at the moment. There was no way that he could
hesitate for a long time among a large number of magical eyes, while other
people urged him to pick certain eyes because that would be most appealing to them.

��

�� Tell me
which kind I can have,� he said.

�� Portillo
Lopez nodded as if she had expected the demand and produced a small, thick book
from beneath her robe. Draco leaned nearer and looked at it warily, but it
wasn�t some obscure tome on necromancy. It was what looked like a catalogue,
and on the front had nothing but the black letters that spelled out: Choice Selection.

�� Draco
opened it to a page that Portillo Lopez had folded down. The magical eyes that
glowed in the photographs, turning back and forth as though to show off their
colors, were bright, intimidating, radiant. He saw golden ones, bronze ones,
and those of a more natural color. He could have a grey eye, he saw at once,
that would look like the one he still had left, and not shed any unnatural
radiance. That would probably be best.

�� Then he
paused when he found a picture of a bright silver eye. It didn�t shine as
brilliantly as some of the others in the pictures, but enough that no one
looking at him would think it was the eye he�d been born with. Draco let his
fingers rest next to it and thought. What did he want: a lack of stares, or the
stares that would say the people looking understood the sacrifice he had made?
With the scars across his face, there was no way that he could hide the loss of
his eye for long, and he thought that the Auror trainees would probably make
him notorious soon enough.

�� This might
be a way to control his notoriety.

�� This one,�
he told Portillo Lopez, after reading the text beneath the picture and making
sure that the eye didn�t require any unusual spells to maintain it or magical
skin to function.

�� Portillo
Lopez looked at the picture and then gave him an oblique look. Draco knew that
much, although his eye was blinking and straining by now, trying to keep up
with all the images thrown at it in the course of the day. �What?� he asked.

�� That
is�more striking�than I thought you would choose,� Portillo Lopez said quietly.
�I thought you would wish to pretend that your loss had not changed you.�

�� Draco
laughed, and stopped because it sounded too bitter. �That would be stupid of
me,� he said. �Given that I�m famous now in my own right, and also as Harry
Potter�s partner.�

�� In the
first days after your loss,� Portillo Lopez said, which Draco supposed wasn�t
the most annoying way to refer to it that she could have found, �you acted as
though you wanted everyone to think that nothing had happened. Although you
were also sensitive, you disdained pity. Have you given up on that now?�

�� Draco took
a deep breath and reminded himself that he had no reason to lose his temper
with Portillo Lopez if he had managed to keep it with Holder. �I can�t control
their pity,� he said. �What I can do is force them to feel something else, with
any luck.�

�� Such as
wonder,� Portillo Lopez said. �Or perhaps horror.�

�� Draco smiled
at her with his teeth alone. �Horror would be better than pity.�

�� Portillo
Lopez spent a moment more looking at him. Perhaps she was engaging in that
weighting up of motives that she seemed to use so often with Harry, and that
Draco had to admit that he found incomprehensible. Then she said, �I see. You
will do well. And I shall order the eye at once.�

�� Draco
blinked, suddenly brought back to reality. �How am I going to have it�put in?�
That was the best way of putting it that he could think of. �I can�t go to St.
Mungo�s without leaving the training camp.�

�� My Order
will do it.�

�� Draco
hardly thought that was the ideal
solution, but he had time to think of an alternative, as Portillo Lopez didn�t
seem to think the eye would arrive quickly.

�� And his
steps grew lighter as he went back to the tent, thinking about the ways that he
could use a magical eye to command more prestige and attention than he had yet.

*

�� Potter. I
need to talk with you.�

�� Harry
paused and stared suspiciously over his shoulder at Herricks. Draco had
continued not to attend the Partnership Trust class, because he said it would
take him more time to adjust to doing exercises with Harry after losing his
eye, and so it wasn�t surprising that Herricks had decided to catch Harry after
it. But Harry didn�t know what he could possibly want.

�� Herricks
gave him a small, tense smile when he saw the way Harry was studying him, and
held up one hand. �I only want to talk with you, like I said.�

�� Harry was a
bit dubious about that, but on the other hand, he didn�t see what Herricks
could do when there were Aurors in every direction. He walked with him beyond
the edge of the camp. Herricks led a winding path past the tents, as if he
didn�t want anyone to see where they were going.

�� Harry didn�t
worry about that. He had seen Hermione�s eyes focus on them and narrow before
they left, and she had flicked her wand in the little gesture that usually
indicated a tracking spell. Assuming that Herricks had something stupid in
mind, she would be able to find them easily.

�� They kept
walking until they reached an area somewhat secluded from the rest of the camp
by a tiny grove of scraggly trees. Herricks turned around and braced his feet.
It was the stance Lowell and Weston had taught them to use when resisting
attack. Harry mimicked him, wondering if Ventus was going to come out and
attack him from the side, and if this was a test of some sort to show that
Herricks should be the leader of the comitatus.

�� Then again,
that couldn�t be it, either, because Ventus followed Draco, looked up to him,
and would never participate in a plot against him. Harry shook his head to
clear it and decided to listen to what Herricks would actually say.

�� You know
as well as I do that Malfoy can�t continue as our leader,� Herricks said. He
had picked up a long, slender stick and was stirring it through the grasses in
front of him, parting the grass and then making it spring back into place as
the stick continued along its way.

�� Do I?�
Harry asked. He made his voice mild, although it took an effort.

�� Herricks
looked up, seemed to see what was in his expression, and threw the stick away
with an abrupt gesture. �Of course you
do, Potter,� he said. His face when he flushed was distinctly unattractive,
Harry thought, and he decided that he would remember that and tell Draco about
it. Draco would appreciate the implied compliment. �He can�t see what�s coming
from one side of him, which is going to make him useless in battle. We can
defend him, so he can still come along on the missions and participate in the
plans, but he can�t fight with his old effectiveness. That means that we need
another battle leader.�

�� Interesting
that you should say that,� Harry murmured sweetly, �when Draco is the one who
negotiated more independence for the comitatus out of Robards.�

�� Herricks
flushed. �I don�t care what he negotiated,� he snapped, with plain untruth.
�What matters is that he can�t lead.�

�� And who
would you suggest taking over?� Harry asked softly. �You know that Draco won�t stand
for it if Hermione or Ron tried to claim the position. I don�t want it. Ventus
won�t take it. She knows her strengths and talents, and they don�t lie in
making plans for other people. She can�t protect them, as she�s admitted
herself.�

�� All your
objections are true,� Herricks said. �You don�t lack intelligence, when you
want to use it. That only leaves me.�

�� Harry spent
a few minutes listening to the wind, and letting Herricks�s words fall into the
deafening silence they deserved.

�� Why
shouldn�t I lead?� Herricks�s voice was soft, but too fast, and there were
bright splotches of red on his cheeks that looked like the flush of fever. �I
have as much right as he does. I�m as smart as he is. The others will trust
me��

�� Ventus
might trust you, because she�s your partner,� Harry said. �And even then, her
blind faith in Draco is going to be a problem. The rest of us won�t. So that�s
your answer. It�s not that you�re being unfairly denied a privilege that you
ought to hold. The problem is that we want to follow someone we know and depend
on, and you�re not that person.�

�� I could
be, if you supported me.�

�� Suddenly,
it became obvious why Herricks had wanted to talk to Harry alone, instead of
making his case directly to Draco or Hermione. Harry put his hands in his robe
pockets and gave the other man a flat look. �You still have delusions about the
power of my name, I see.�

�� You should have been the war leader,�
Herricks said scornfully. �I put up with Malfoy because I thought you supported
him and would take a bolder stand if something ever happened to him. But here�s
that exact situation, and you�re still holding back as if he has�as if has a chain on you. Don�t you want to be
free?�

�� I don�t
value power,� Harry said quietly. �He does, and he does a good enough job with
it. I�m watching him, and so is Hermione, to make sure that he doesn�t fuck up.
If you want to do more than that, then you should have proved yourself, instead
of just asking us to accept you because no one else wants the job.�

�� I think
Hermione would take it in a heartbeat,� said Herricks. �And you would, if you
were being honest with yourself.� Harry simply rolled his eyes, because he knew
that Herricks�s blustering was so much hot air, if Herricks didn�t. �Why won�t you be honest with yourself? The position
is there.�

�� Not as
much �there� as you might think,� Harry said. �Draco is going to get a magical
eye. He�ll lead us again, and in the meantime, he�s counting on the comitatus
to remain together, in part to look good to Robards and Holder. He won�t look
kindly on your trying to create a�change in the ranks.� It was a much more
polite word than the one he was thinking, but then again, he didn�t want to
create a change by forcing Herricks away, either.

�� That will
take time,� Herricks said. �We need to be able to stand up and represent
ourselves in the eyes of the other Aurors before then.� He waited, but when
Harry showed no sign of agreeing with him, he leaned forwards earnestly and
said, �Malfoy cares too much about power.�

�� And you,
of course, are agreeing to become a leader out of the goodness of your heart,�
Harry murmured.

�� Herricks,
oddly enough, didn�t get angry with him, the way Harry had thought he would.
Instead, he leaned forwards some more, so that he was at the point where he was
practically balancing on his toes, and whispered, �I want to do this job
because someone needs to do it and I know that I can. I can fill a hole that I
see in our defenses. I want to win the war with Nihil, and this is the best
way. That�s it. That�s all.�

�� Harry let
the sound of those assurances die out. Then he rolled his eyes and said, �You
want to do it at the worst possible time, when everyone is unsure about us. We
haven�t convinced Holder and Robards of anything important, you know. They still
expect us to fuck up and wish that we would sod off. They�re used to thinking
of Draco as the leader of the comitatus now, and thinking that the comitatus
supports him. If you insist on showing them that we have cracks in the fa�ade,
though, they could change their tune. We might be back as mere support for the
Aurors again, left out of missions like children, if that.�

�� I only
want to do what�s right,� Herricks said, and his expression was so earnest that
Harry wanted to slap him.

�� I�m sure,�
Harry muttered.

�� Herricks
turned to the side and picked up a stone. Harry tensed automatically, but
Herricks simply hurled the stone at the nearest hill, apparently to express his
frustration. �Are you with me or not?� he asked.

�� I�m not,�
Harry said. �I�m on the side of the person I think can lead the comitatus most
effectively, and that�s Draco.�

�� Herricks
gave him a pitying smile. �You know nothing,� he said. �I know that Holder and
Robards will feel plenty of enmity for Malfoy once they start thinking about
him again.�

�� Harry
smiled faintly and looked up. �And why is that? Do you have any plans to
encourage that animosity?�

�� That
accusation actually did make Herricks freeze in place and blink as if, for
once, Harry had come up with something that he didn�t have an answer to. Then
he shook his head and said, �Don�t be ridiculous.�

�� I might
well say that to you,� Harry said. �You want to change things now? When everyone else in the comitatus
is still settled on following Draco and any instability might make us look unstable?�

�� I thought
you would agree to do what was right,� Herricks said, his eyes unreadable. �I
should have realized that you were in Gryffindor House, and Gryffindors
sometimes let personal loyalties blind them to the greater good.�

�� Harry
wasn�t sure what it was about those words that broke his temper. Perhaps it was
simply that he�d last heard them offered as a justification for Dumbledore�s
actions, which Harry was far from thinking good. Perhaps it was just that
Herricks was being stuck-up and stupid and threatening someone Harry loved with
a lot of stress and strife that he didn�t need. In fact, that was probably the
likeliest explanation. Harry was a Gryffindor and a slave to his personal
loyalties, after all.

�� What really
mattered was that suddenly he had his hands tucked into Herricks�s robes,
drawing them strongly shut around his throat, and Herricks was dangling from
his hold and making desperate little urk sounds.

�� Harry
didn�t really remember moving or taking the grip. But now that he had it, he
sure wasn�t going to waste it.

�� You
arrogant little pissant,� he whispered. �When you�re alive because the rest of
us trusted Draco. When Ventus is alive and the rest of the comitatus is around
because we depended on each other when there was no one else. You think that
you can come here, the last and latest of us, and change everything about our
structure around to suit yourself? You have no
idea. You never will.�

�� Herricks�s
face was turning red. Harry deposited him on the ground again and shoved him
contemptuously away. It was long moments before he started speaking again, but
Harry honestly wasn�t sure if that came from the choking or just from shock.

��

�� Listen,�
he said at last, while Harry stared at him with his arms folded because it was
simpler than choking him again would have been. �You had no right to do that to
me.�

�� Is this
the part of the spiel where you get into threats?� Harry opened his mouth in a
rude, elaborate yawn. �I could see that working. Far better than the words that
you�ve spoken and the proposals you�ve made so far, at least.�

�� If you�re
against anything breaking up the comitatus, why did you do this to me?�
Herricks�s face was still pink, but he seemed to have refocused on the real
issue. Harry reckoned he had to applaud him for that, at least.

�� Because
you needed to see that I won�t support you,� Harry said. �And you were counting
on my support, weren�t you? There was no sense in making the proposal to me
otherwise, when you know that I�m Draco�s partner.�

�� Herricks
jerked his head down. �I might not need your support,� he said.

�� Harry
simply smiled at him and walked away. He didn�t know if Herricks would have the
same idea he did, but it was best to get back soon in case he did. Harry would
warn Draco first, and then Ron and Hermione. Ventus might believe Herricks
instead of him�though Harry doubted that, given her devotion to Draco�but his
friends, and his lover, would believe Harry.

�� Then
Herricks, who had tried to outflank Draco and isolate him from the safety of
the others, would find himself isolated in turn.

�� Perhaps he
shouldn�t take as much pleasure in this as he was, right now. But Harry had
meant what he said. He took threats to Draco seriously, and if he had to keep
much of his attention, and enmity, for Nihil, that didn�t mean that he couldn�t
spare some for someone as stupid as Herricks was acting.

�� Harry
smiled, and walked faster.

*

�� polka dot: Maybe
yes, maybe no. It would depend on how much Draco�s spell affected him, whether
it might have scared him into not doing anything.

�� Dragons
Breath: Harry might have done it if he was a little more irritated.

�� SP777:
Something a bit special, yes.

�� And I would
do a proposal scene if I really wanted to write a wedding. So far, I haven�t
done that because I don�t want to invent wedding magic.
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Seasons of War