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The Stag and The Snake	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9713 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
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Chapter 16 – Up To Something

Harry woke the following morning to an empty bed. He felt his stomach twist with anxiety for a moment, his breath hitching and his panic mounted to the point where he began to feel physically ill. It faded almost at once when he heard the low thrum of Draco's voice intermingled with Remus and Sirius's coming from outside. Harry took several deep breaths to calm himself, then rolled out of bed.

After the panic faded, he was able to remember yesterday evening's events with delightful clarity. He grinned as he shrugged into a dressing gown and grabbed a wad of wrinkled clean clothes from his wardrobe. After his time in The Meadow, he feared that he'd be incapable of physical closeness, even with Draco. But after last night he, felt as though his life was finally going right. It was a wonderful feeling.

He padded down the hall for a quick shower, then headed to the main area of the flat where the others were. They were still talking in hushed, almost urgent tones, but too quietly for Harry to catch the words. As he stepped out, hair still slightly damp, to see them crouched forward in seats around the kitchen table, whispering urgently to one another. U his appearance they stopped talking at once. Draco turned and smiled at Harry, probably more widely than he normally would have. Harry eyed the trio suspiciously, having a feeling that they weren't telling him something. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah, great,” Draco breathed the words, and he stood up in one fluid motion and stepped over to Harry, grabbing his hands and pulling him in for a kiss. Draco allowed it to linger for a little longer than was probably necessary, and they only broke apart when Remus coughed pointedly behind them. Harry was still far too giddy about the previous night's events to feel overly embarrassed, even with Sirius smirking at them with a knowing look in his eye. “Sleep well?” Draco asked, still grinning at him, it so exaggerated that it almost bordered on goofy. He was definitely up to something. The realization left Harry with a mixed feeling of apprehension and excitement.

“Amazing,” Harry smirked when Draco snickered, and he tugged him towards the table. Harry allowed himself to be dragged over, and helped himself at once to some toast, bacon, and a cup of coffee. Draco sat next to him and casually rested a hand on his thigh. Harry gave him a look and moved his hand away, very proud of himself for managing to keep a blush off his face. “So, er, anything going on?”

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look. It reminded Harry of that same look they exchanged just before his last surprise birthday party. Oh yeah, Harry thought, there is definitely something going on. “Oh, y'know...nothing much.” Harry snorted. Sirius had always been a terrible liar. Remus elbowed his Bonded sharply, while Harry grazed on his breakfast.

“Yeah, I'll bet.” Sirius tried to mask his guilty grin at Harry's words behind his cup of coffee.

“Any plans for today?” Remus asked conversationally, though that suspiciously excited glint never left his eye.

“Actually, I was thinking of dropping in on Ron and Hermione. Do some damage control after our hasty getaway last night,” Harry finally said around a mouthful of toast. He chased it down with a large gulp from his coffee cup, and turned to his blond companion, “d'you wanna come with me?”

“Actually...I've got something I need to do today.” Draco reached out and squeezed Harry's hand, a vaguely guilty look crossing his features. “Raincheck? I'll see you tonight though,” Harry arched an eyebrow at him. He was suspicious and curious, but whatever they were up to, obviously it was big. Harry didn't want to be a spoilsport, but the idea of going somewhere without Draco made him a little uneasy.

“Um, sure,” Draco smiled at him, and he squeezed Harry's hand under the table.

After Draco took off to do whatever he needed to do—he was still strangely tight-lipped about where he was going—Remus intercepted Harry as he was shrugging into his jacket. “Harry? Before you go could I have a word?” Harry blinked, confused, but Remus appeared oddly serious compared to how he'd been acting not even half an hour earlier.

“Er, okay, yeah.” Remus seemed to relax at his words, and he led Harry back to the now-empty breakfast table. Harry sat down heavily in his usual spot, while Remus sat across from him. For a moment he didn't speak, studying Harry in a way he'd usually reserved for misbehaving students during his brief tenure at Hogwarts. The look made him nervous—had he done something wrong?

“Harry, first I'd like to say how proud I am of you, and the progress you've made towards getting your life back together.” He smiled a little, “even after eighteen years of knowing you, your resilience and bravery never stops surprising me.” Remus fell silent again, and Harry could feel his mouth pull into a nervous frown.

“Uh oh, you have but face.” Remus blinked in confusion at Harry's words.

“Excuse me?”

“...You look like you're going to say but.” He grinned apologetically, and Remus chuckled a little.

“But I'm a little concerned about you and Draco,” He paused, a tiny frown gracing his features, while Harry felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. His reaction must have shown on his face, because Remus quickly added, “I don't disapprove of Draco by any means, nor do I object to him being here. But Harry, you're becoming extremely dependant on him.”

“What do you mean?” Harry fought to keep his voice level, worried what the wrong reaction might lead to. Even so, feigning his calm was much more difficult than he had anticipated. What if Remus decided to separate them? It was too horrifying to even bear thinking about.

“Harry, Sirius and I have seen how you are when you wake and Draco is elsewhere, even if he's in the loo for five minutes. It's as though you've been thrown back into...” Remus broke off, frowning. “You act as though he's abandoned you.” He watched Harry with a sad look in his eyes, while he squirmed uncomfortably. Remus wasn't wrong, but what did he want Harry to do about it?

“Harry,” Remus said after a few moments of tense silence, when it was made plain that Harry did not want to speak. “Draco adores you. No power on this earth could make him not love you. You know that, don't you?” Harry felt his neck grow warm. It was one thing to know it, it felt strange when it was laid out before him like that.

“I—I know,” he said finally, picking absently at a loose thread on the knee of his jeans, “and I hate being so needy.” He frowned, trying to re-organize his thoughts into something that would make sense. “But I spent five years alone, Remus.” He looked up finally, meeting his adoptive father's gaze, and the admission made Remus's calm facade crumble a little. “I was alone except for sunrise and sunset, when Snape would come and...” he broke off, a violent shudder lancing through him. He took a deep breath, and forced himself to continue. “If Draco's there, it means nothing's coming...that I'm safe.”

“For the foreseeable future, nothing is coming. I'm sure you know that.”

“I—yeah, I know that Remus. But there's a difference between knowing something and really believing it, you know?” Harry raked a hand through his hair. He felt slightly calmer than when the conversation had started, but he still felt nervous. He didn't want Remus to bar Draco from seeing him.

“I know Harry,” he said gently, “I just want to make sure you are aware of it. It may not be so much of a problem now, but at some point both of you will want to move forward with your lives, and you will have to spend time apart, an afternoon, an evening—like today for example. Draco said that he would see you this evening. How does that make you feel?” Harry exhaled a breath he had not realized that he was holding.

“Honestly? Really nervous. I mean, Remus, I know it's not a spectacular idea to be so...dependent on someone, but I don't know how to stop. Draco's been the only—one of the only things that have been constant since I got back.” He felt a little flush of shame. It wasn't fair to say that Draco was the only thing. Remus and Sirius had been amazing, acting as though nothing had changed, and not pushing him for details of what had happened. They seemed to understand that he'd tell them when he was ready to, though he doubted that he'd ever want to talk about The Meadow with anyone.

“Take it one step at a time Harry,” the familiar, placid smile spread across his face, and Harry felt himself relax a little. “No one expects you to do anything you're not ready for. But spending an afternoon apart here and there might be good for you. That doesn't mean you have to be alone, you could go visit your friends, or you could play Quidditch with the Weasleys, or babysit for Bill and Fleur—” Harry made a face, and Remus chuckled.“—or not. But Harry, the point I'm trying to make is that your life can't revolve around just one thing or one person. You need a balance.”

Harry turned his gaze from Remus, mulling over what he'd said. He wasn't wrong, at some level Harry knew that his dependency couldn't go on forever, but he still had no idea how to fix it without dissolving into a panic. “You don't need to do anything about it now, if you don't want to,” Remus said gently. “But will you think it over at least?” He looked up and met Remus's gaze again.

“Yeah, okay. I will.” He smiled weakly, and Remus nodded a little.

“Then have a good time with Ron and Hermione.”

After using the Floo to make sure he wasn't going to walk in on anything visibly scarring, he tumbled out onto Ron and Hermione's hearth in a heap. He stood up and brushed the ash off his clothes, while he looked up to smile uncertainly at the pair before him. “Hey guys,” Hermione smiled warmly at him, while Ron cocked his mouth in a strange half smile.

The front room held no trace to indicate that barely over twelve hours earlier it had been crowded with people. It was almost surgically clean, and Harry felt a little out of place in the room. “Come on,” Hermione said at once, grabbing his upper arm and steering him out of the room and into the kitchen. A pot of tea and plate of biscuits waited for them on the small table. Hermione all but shoved him into one of the available chairs.

Harry helped himself to the offered food and drink, biting the head off a ginger newt to give him a chance to organize his thoughts. “I just wanted to come by and, er, apologize, I guess, for taking off like that.”

“There's nothing to apologize for,” Hermione said, while Ron huffed a little as though he disagreed. She shot her husband a scathing look, and he refrained from voicing his opinion. Ron's reaction spoke for itself, and Harry frowned. “You were just looking out for Draco. It wouldn't have been fair to force you to stay when certain...people made you feel unwelcome.” Hermione frowned in Ron's direction, but he refused to meet her eye. “I'm just sorry it had to happen in our home.” Harry felt the smallest twinge of guilt on her behalf; she really did look sorry.

“It's not like you can control what people say, or think.” He glanced towards Ron, who still hadn't spoken. He avoided Harry's gaze, and hid his face behind his mug. “But, Hermione, if we're invited to another...celebration here, it'd be nice to not have to worry that someone might curse my lover.” At the word lover Ron sputtered, and based on the sharp gasp of pain that followed, Hermione had kicked him under the table.

“He's from a family of Death Eaters Harry,” Ron spat the words, pointedly ignoring his wife's nasty glare. “How can you seriously expect us to trust him?” Harry gaped at him, struck dumb by Ron's scathing tone.

“Okay,” he said evenly, amazed that he managed to keep his voice level. “One, not that it's any of your business, the Malfoys were exonerated over twenty years ago. There was proof from multiple sources including from Dumbledore that they had been passing information to the Order for over a year. If you don't believe me I'm sure you can look it up at the Ministry. Two, Draco is not his parents. Even if they hadn't been cleared, Draco is as much a Death Eater as I am.” He glared at Ron, but he refused to meet his eye. Hermione looked absolutely horrified, her eyes darting nervously between Ron and Harry.

“Now, what the hell happened between you two?” Ron jerked at the question, but still kept his eyes on anything but Harry. “Because you were almost accepting of Draco last—That Night, and now you can't even look at him.” Harry gritted his teeth, and Ron finally refocused his gaze on Harry, his eyes narrowed in a glare. “And don't tell me it's nothing,” Harry said when no one immediately spoke up, “because it's obvious that something happened.”

“It wasn't anyone's fault, I mean, not really,” Hermione said timidly, and Harry snapped his gaze to her. She flinched, and Harry relaxed a little, frowning apologetically at her. Ron had an incredulous look on his face, but one hard look from her and his mouth snapped shut. “It was three years ago,” she frowned and looked away from Harry guiltily. “Draco was convinced that you were still alive. I had my doubts, after Magical Law Enforcement stopped looking and our own searches turned up nothing.” She paused, taking a biscuit from the plate and picked at it, she but didn't move to eat it.

“Ron was certain that you were still alive, but he wasn't as...vehement about it as Draco or your parents were.” She paused, but when no one interrupted her, she continued. “I told Ron in confidence about my doubts, and he agreed. Neither of us wanted to believe that you were dead,” she added the sentiment with a pleading tone, her eyes a little glassy. “But everything we found pointed towards...well...” she trailed off, but Harry didn't need her to finish the sentence. He remembered all too clearly Snape's jibes from that time period, taunting Harry over the fact that no one was looking for him. He shivered, and struggled to keep his mind from lapsing back to The Meadow.

“Draco had come by while I was talking to Ron about it. He heard everything and got pretty upset.”

“Don't sugarcoat it Hermione,” Ron said tersely, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. Her cheeks went pink in response to Ron's words.

“All right. Well...he...he, well, went berserk.” Harry had to bite back a chuckle at her words. Somehow, that didn't surprise him. “He called Ron and I a lot of awful names, and then he called me a—mudblood.” She frowned, but didn't look especially distraught over the memory. “Ron got pretty mad, and he moved to curse Draco, just as Draco tried to curse Ron. They missed and deflected, and both curses hit me. I'm okay,” she added quickly when Harry's eyes bulged, “but Draco took off pretty quickly after that.”

“What happened?” Harry was not entirely certain he wanted to know the answer. By the look on Hermione's face, it was clear she was reluctant to tell him, too.

“Draco cast Sectumsempra at the same time that Ron cast a Slug-Vomiting Hex, and when they both hit me and reacted badly together, I ended up with a lot of internal damage.” She spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, a polar opposite to Ron, who looked enraged at the memory.

“She was at St. Mungo's for weeks Harry,” Ron said, shaking with anger, “and Hermione refused to report him.” Despite the fact that it had happened years earlier, Ron still seemed as enraged about it, as though it had occurred only the day before. “No one decent uses a curse like that on anyone. I should've known better than to assume a Malfoy could be anything but a Dark Wizard.” He glared at Harry, his gaze accusing. Harry felt his stomach roil in anger, and he took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. It didn't help.

“Ron, please! It wasn't Draco's fault and you know it!” Hermione looked beyond distressed at Ron's accusation, while her panicked eyes darted between her husband and friend.

“Bollocks. Malfoy knew exactly what he was doing, and you know it. Don't defend that git.” He practically snarled the words, but Hermione refused to back down.

“And how would you feel if something like that had happened to me? I doubt you'd be level-headed about it!”

“That's not the point, Hermione! He's a Dark wizard, plain and simple!” Ron was shouting now, his face a deep red from his heated anger, but Harry had heard enough.

“So...” his voice shook as he spoke. “A Dark Wizard spent five years searching for me, duelled my kidnapper and murdered on my behalf. Then spent weeks bedridden from his own grievous injuries, while focusing all his energies on helping my mind heal, without taking a minute for himself. Oh yes, that's true evil, right there.” His voice dripped with nasty sarcasm, and Ron's face began to purple from his rage.

“Ronald Bilius Weasley don't you dare!” Ron had jumped up, his hand thrown inside his robes. At Hermione's shrill voice he froze, but his enraged glare never left Harry. Harry stood slowly, his eyes narrowed angrily.

“Ron, you're my best mate, and I love you and Hermione both. However, Draco is my lover and if you try and force me to choose between the two of you, you will lose. Draco saved my life, my sanity. I owe him everything. Moreover, I love him. Not out of some screwed up sense of duty, or because I owe him. He means everything to me, and if you ever threaten him, you will be very sorry indeed.” Harry kept his tone dangerously calm and cold, making sure Ron caught every word. Saying it killed him a little inside, but he needed to make sure Ron would not misunderstand him. He turned his back on him, hoping Ron caught the meaning of you don't scare me as he rested a hand on Hermione's shoulder and brushed a light kiss against her cheek. “See you, Hermione.” He smiled warmly, then strode out to their fireplace.

Harry fell onto the sofa the second he got home stretching across it as a huff of frustration escaped him. He buried his face in his hands with a groan, then raked his fingers through his hair. What was he going to do about Ron? “Harry?” a voice called out, startling him out of his thoughts. “Is that you?” Sirius poked his head out of the kitchen, but Harry didn't bother to move from his position.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to force any cheer into his tone. Sirius stepped out into the sitting room, and Harry moved his legs so that Sirius could sit next to him.

“I thought you were going over to see your friends?” His tone was light and questioning, but there was no mistaking the look of concern in his eyes.

“I was, but it looks like Ron's convinced that I'm dating a Dark Wizard.” Harry snorted at the words, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to organize his thoughts through his frustration. “I should've known better than to think everything would go right once I got home.” He could feel his despair creeping up on him, and he physically shook himself in an attempt to get rid of it. Sirius watched him in silence, his expression wavering between pity and contemplation. Harry did his best to ignore it; he hated being pitied.

“Remus and I could speak to him if you want, Harry,” Sirius offered gently. Harry turned, finally looking directly at Sirius and he smiled weakly.

“Thanks Sirius, but if Ron's gonna be a prat, I'm not going to waste my breath trying to change his mind. He'll come round, or he won't.” He shrugged a little, trying to hide how much it hurt to even think of Ron as no longer being his best friend. Somehow, it felt worse than those weeks in fourth year when he hand Ron hadn't been speaking. Harry suspected that that was because it wasn't just him Ron was angry with, but Draco too. Harry felt his stomach muscles clench with protectiveness and anger. He'd happily turn Ron inside out if he tried anything.

“That's a very adult way of looking at it,” Sirius said, but he sounded proud, which surprised Harry. “Ron has his life, and you have yours. You can't bend just to maintain your friendship.”

“Hooray for me,” he mumbled sarcastically. “Hermione's still on my side, at least. I dunno, maybe she'll knock some sense into him.”

“Maybe, but Ron is a Weasley. They're rather good at holding a grudge.”

“Don't I know it,” Harry mumbled, shifting his sullen gaze to the crackling fire.

As promised, Draco returned in time for dinner, looking tired, but pleased about something. Unfortunately, no matter what Harry tried, the blond would not give Harry any details about his day.

“Oh come on,” Harry said, eyes wide and pleading, “just a hint. What did you do today?” Draco suddenly found his pork pie very interesting.

“Not saying nothing Potter,” Draco replied with an amused smirk. “How did your visit with your friends go?” Harry snorted at his feeble attempt to deflect the conversation back to him.

“I think taking half a dozen Blast-Ended Skrewts on a walk would've been more fun.”

“That bad, eh?” Harry frowned a little, picking at the edge of the pastry crust.

“How come you never told me about what happened to Hermione?” He struggled to pinpoint exactly what he was feeling as he mulled over what Ron and Hermione had told him—and Ron's subsequent explosion. He tried to convey this by keeping his tone light, but Draco still looked deeply ashamed following Harry's question.

“At first, it was because I didn't want to tell you more than I thought you could handle.” He frowned, unable to meet Harry's eye. While Harry understood the sentiment, the excuse of his fragile mental state seemed like a feeble reason to him. “Then later, well, I didn't really know how to tell you. I never expected Ron to blame you for what I did to his Bonded.”

“How'd you know about that?” Harry blinked, trying to recall if he'd said anything that had alluded to Ron's immature reaction, while staring at Draco with widened eyes.

“It wasn't difficult to work out, didn't you see how he was last night?” Harry blinked once, and shook his head at Draco's words. “Him and a few other choice Gryffindors were looking at you with the same disdain they shot at me.” He shrugged, seemingly unruffled by his less-than-warm welcome at last night's party. “I never knew him as well as you or Granger, but he doesn't seem to be the type to be reasonable after he's been wronged.”

“That's an understatement,” Harry muttered darkly, glaring at his half-eaten dinner, appetite gone.
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