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Soldier's Welcome	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 25565 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; that belongs to J. K. Rowling. I am making no money from this fic.

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Chapter Twenty-Nine�Outbreaks

�� Harry! How
was the rest of your holiday?�

�� Harry
smiled and held out his arms to welcome Hermione, who dashed straight into
them. No need to ask how her holidays
had been since the last time he had seen her; her face was glowing, more
relaxed than it had been. She and Ron must not have had another argument.

�� Fine,
thanks,� Harry said, and smiled down at her. He�d taken care to arrive back at
the barracks early, since he hadn�t told his friends he was staying at Malfoy
Manor. He didn�t want another row with them so soon, but besides, it wasn�t
their business. He didn�t need to know every single secret glance and snog they
gave each other, either.

�� And are you saying that staying in Malfoy
Manor is at all the same as them snogging?

�� Harry
rolled his eyes at his inner voice. No, it wasn�t, and not likely to become so,
either, because Draco had been acting strangely these last few days�

�� Are you
ready for the next round of classes?� Hermione was already squirming out of his
hug so that she could reach her books. �I�ve studied Observation ever so hard,
and I still don�t see how we�re
supposed to spot all these tiny details that I know Pushkin is going to want us
to see��

�� Let the
man have some time to breathe before you start trying to pile homework on him,
Hermione.� Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, as if to say See what I have to put up with? Harry only grinned back, because Ron
looked just as relaxed and happy as Hermione did. Harry wasn�t about to believe
he�d suffered a whole lot of stress.

�� Like I have, these last few days.

�� But that
way lay self-pity and thoughts that he shouldn�t think anyway when Ron and
Hermione were around, until he�d had time to get them used to a few essential
truths. He shook his head and said, �Yeah, I�ve been studying the Battle
Healing techniques that Portillo Lopez wants us to learn.�

�� Those bloody things,� Ron said, his
smile turning into a scowl. He aimed his books at the middle of his bed and
managed to hit it. �Yeah, I don�t know what in the world she wants us to learn
those things for. I�m not going to have to time to bandage up a wound when the
Dark wizards are shooting curses at me.�

�� That�s why
you learn how to do them fast,� Hermione said promptly, �so that you can heal
your partner faster than they can use the curses.�

�� Ron rolled
his eyes. �And you think I can charm bandages to wind up in a�� he gave one of
the closed books a dubious glance and then obviously took a wild stab at the
name ��Bee�s Eye pattern when I still can�t wrap them that way by hand?�

�� The spells
are different, and you know it,� Hermione said briskly. �Here, let me show you.�
She waved her wand and intoned a low incantation that Harry almost recognized,
and the blankets rose from the bed to wrap themselves in an intricate knot
around Ron.

�� Ron yelped
and stumbled, then nearly fell to the floor. Hermione caught him in time and
floated him gently to a chair, while Harry wrapped his arms around himself and
laughed until he felt like his ribs would break.

�� That�s how
you do it,� Hermione said serenely. �And it�s Bee�s Nest, not Bee�s Eye. And
when you learn how to do it well enough, then I�ll promise to let you do it to
me, and I won�t even fight.�

�� Harry stood
back up, shaking his head and grinning slightly. Ron was smiling in spite of
himself at what Hermione had said, even though he was also still thrashing to try
and get out of the blankets. Harry was glad that his best friends seemed to
have solved their problems for now. It was as though a bleeding wound in the back
of his mind had quietly and painlessly sewn itself up.

�� Which was
good, because another one had opened.

�� Harry
gritted his teeth and forced the thought away yet again before Hermione turned
to him.

�� Ginny
sends her love,� she said, eyes intense.

�� Harry
stared at her. Why would she look like that? Hermione had seen the way he
avoided Ginny at Christmas, and he�d had the feeling she approved. �Yeah, I
know that,� he said at last.

�� She said,�
Hermione said, and then stopped, nibbling her lip. �Well, it�s better if I just
give the bloody thing to you,� she muttered, and took something out of her pocket
to hand to him while Harry was still gaping at her.

�� It turned
out to be a letter. From the thickness of the envelope, Harry thought there
were several sheets of paper in it. He closed his hand around it and heard it
crumple.

�� Hermione
gave him a pitying look, told Ron, �Let�s go to my rooms, and I�ll teach you
how to undo those blankets,� and floated Ron out of the room behind her, though
he kept insisting that he could hop.

�� Harry
pressed the envelope close down to the paper and stared to see if he could make
out any of the words. Nothing. The spiky black letters could have been
anything. Harry saw just enough to recognize it as Ginny�s handwriting. Then
again, Hermione didn�t have any reason to lie about that.

�� Harry stood
there, still, for a long time, but he knew the stillness was only another way
of trying to control his rage.

�� Then he
conjured a fire in the hearth, threw the letter in, and watched until the whole
thing was completely burned.

�� Had he had
a letter from Draco at the moment, he might have done the same thing with it.

*

�� A bit more
slowly,� Draco murmured as he watched Harry�s table manners from the corner of
his eye.

�� Harry�s
hand tightened on his fork, and then he banged it down on the table and turned
to face Draco. Draco blinked. He was glad that he had left Politesse in his
rooms, because otherwise the little dog would have leaned forwards with his
teeth bared. Draco was slowly learning that Politesse responded to Harry with
hostility at those moments when Draco was
feeling hostility; the other evening, when they had discussed how they should
hunt Nihil and had mostly agreed, Politesse had napped on Draco�s lap without
waking up once to snarl or bark at Harry.

�� What�s the
matter?� Draco asked.

�� You keep
giving me advice on my table manners,� Harry said, not raising his voice, but
with his eyes blazing so hard that Draco leaned warily away from him, �and my
hair, and the way I should stand and sit. Why?�

�� Draco
blinked again. He had expected the question even less than he had expected the
conversation about it. �Because you�re doing things the wrong way,� he said. �Or
at least, you�re doing them in ways that make you look sloppy and ridiculous. And
your back is going to hurt when you�re older if you don�t have good posture
now.�

�� Harry shook
his head and swiped his hand through his hair. Draco winced, but didn�t say
anything, since Harry seemed to be feeling a bit sensitive right now.

�� Unfortunately,
Harry saw the wince, and leaned towards Draco, his voice sharp. Draco could
feel a few people at other tables glancing at them. He hoped that Harry wouldn�t
raise his voice while they were outside the privacy of Draco�s rooms.

�� There you go again,� Harry said, and his fingers
were clenched around the edge of the table, as if he wanted to show Draco
beyond doubt how seriously he was taking this. �Why the fuck should it matter to you what my hair looks like, or what
my table manners are? We�re not required to watch out for things like that.�

�� Again,
Draco had no idea how to answer. �I assumed it�d be obvious,� he said at last. �Because
those are the wrong things, and I�d like to see you do the right ones.�

�� Why?�
Harry was half out of his chair now, and his voice shook with such strain that
Draco was sure he would give in and yell any second. He winced again. He didn�t
want to make a disturbance, but Harry was set on making one. Of course.

�� Because
the wrong things bother me,� Draco snapped. If Harry wanted nastiness, then
Draco would give him that. He had no idea why he was being accused. True, he�d
been giving Harry little corrections for a week since they returned to their
classes, but Harry had only rolled his eyes or even smiled. Why choose to get
upset about it now? �I�d prefer it if I had a partner who was polite and
well-groomed.�

�� Harry
slumped back down in his chair, which made Draco imagine the pain that would
travel through his kinked spine, and laughed bitterly. �I knew it was that,� he
told his empty tray; he always ate too fast, as if someone was going to take
the food away from him. �But I tried to pretend it wasn�t.�

�� What are
you talking about?� Draco kept his voice cool and his face stiff. No need to
alert the other people who might be glancing at them of their fight, or the
ways in which it seemed worse than the other rows they�d had, if Harry�s face
was any indication.

�� You want
to change me,� Harry said, as if that
was some heinous crime. �I�m not good enough for you. Not pretty enough. I don�t
act the right way. I�m a freak in
your little pure-blood world of customs and social cues.� He said �freak� with
a particular hard emphasis that Draco didn�t understand, but would prefer not
to hear again. �I should have known that what I was feeling wasn�t
reciprocated.�

�� Draco
swallowed. It would have worked better if he�d had moisture in his throat to
accomplish that. �I still have no idea what you mean. We�re friends. I thought
that I�d showed you your friendship meant�much to me.�

�� Apparently
not, if all you care about is outward appearances.� Harry�s voice was heavy
with stupid sarcasm. Draco would at least have liked to hear cutting wit if he
was going to be despised. Harry climbed to his feet with his face turned away,
flicked his wand so that his tray left the table without his touching it, and
then started towards the racks on the far side of the dining hall.

�� Wait,�
Draco said, unable to believe that Harry was walking away. Draco was the one
who did that, instead of getting walked away from. He picked up his own tray
and hastened after Harry, catching at his elbow as he turned towards the exit. �We
agreed that you needed to change,� Draco murmured, his lips scant inches from
Harry�s ear. �That little speech you gave me after you nearly died in my home because you thought it
was better to kill yourself than let Nihil�s magic take you is a case in point.�
Just thinking about the stupid way that Harry had risked his life made Draco
tighten his hold.

�� Harry
ripped free and spun around to face him. By now, Weasel and Mudblood, who were
eating at a different table entirely, had risen to their feet and were staring
at them in concern. Draco felt his face go red with embarrassment, but he had
to pay as much attention to Harry as possible instead of the spectators, to see
the moment when Harry realized how unreasonable was being.

�� It�s one
thing to change the big things,� Harry said savagely, and still in a whisper
that made Draco wonder why he wasn�t screaming. �I don�t really want to die,
and I�ll have to learn better ways of dealing with Nihil�s threat than killing
myself. It�s one thing to keep promises and try to work with you and to stop denying
that we�re effective partners. It�s another
to change all these little things about myself just because you�re like me
to, while you look at me down your nose because you�re too good for me and you
think you don�t have to change at all.�
Harry sneered. �I thought we were equals, that you saw me the same way I saw
you. I reckon that I was wrong.� And off he stormed.

�� Draco
became aware that his mouth was open, and that that might make him look less
than perfectly composed. He closed it and placed his tray next to Harry�s. Then
he stood there coldly considering his partner�s retreating back.

�� There were
so many misconceptions in what Harry had just said that Draco didn�t feel up to
dealing with them right now. He went back to his own rooms and worked on the
essay that Ketchum had assigned them, because he said that far too many of them
were �thinking lazily� about tactics, and maybe having to put their feelings
and actions into words would make their minds run better. He petted Politesse
throughout the evening, who rattled his tail in an erratic motion that reminded
Draco of the way that some cats purred.

�� He didn�t
think about Harry. It would have suggested that he regretted his actions, and
he couldn�t, because he was right.

*

�� Harry was
glad that the trainees who had made it through the first term were allowed to
exercise in one of the training rooms that Ketchum sometimes used to set up obstacle
courses. He couldn�t go flying, but he needed something physical to work off the rage.

�� There were
few people around the large room, with its mixed walls of stone and wood and
its wooden floor, when Harry entered, and those there mostly clustered around a
dummy enchanted with shields that they could practice their curses against.
Harry made a bee-line for an open area of the room, Transfigured his robes to
something more suitable for running without much concentration, and then took
off in a wide circle.

�� His feet
pounded the floor, and his breath jarred in his lungs for a long moment before
he got used to the rhythm. Then all he allowed himself to think about for the
next few minutes was how raw and sore his body already felt and how he would have
to increase his physical exercise if he wanted to become an Auror and how he
hoped that they would find someone else to teach the Combat course.

�� But his
rage burned too bright to be snuffed out too easily, and soon it was back with
him, and soon Draco�s smug, taunting face was floating in front of him again.

�� Harry had
been confused when Draco seemed to grow more distant from him over the last few
days of Christmas holidays, but he had thought maybe he was worried about
Nihil, or his inability to find an answer in the books for why Harry had fits,
or already missing his mother. Then Draco had started correcting his manners
and aiming minor grooming spells at his hair. Harry had tried to smile and
accept it as partially a joke and partially just the way Draco was. He had
habits and traits that he couldn�t change.

�� But it went
on and on and on, until sometimes it
seemed as if Draco never looked at him normally anymore. Harry would look up
and find Draco�s eyes critically fixed on him, looking for something that he
could disapprove of.

�� Harry bit
down until blood from his tongue filled his mouth and intensified his run until
the walls blurred past him and his head spun from how fast he made the turns at
the edges of the circle.

�� I was right, when I thought that I didn�t fit
into the perfect little pure-blood world that Malfoy Manor and the party were
in. He wants me to be someone different, and it bothers him that I�ll never be
that way.

�� Harry
snarled and ran even faster. He couldn�t hear the sound of his own feet anymore
over the heartbeat that thrummed in his ears.

�� I still want him. I still like him. But why
should I tell him that when he would only look me up and down and tell me that
I�m not good enough for him until I comb my hair fifteen times a day and wear
designer robes?

�� I need to change. I know that. I�m not
perfect. I know that. But I refuse to
change while he�s standing there and not making any effort.

�� Maybe he assumes that he�s doing his part by
telling me what I need to change, but
he�s really, really not.

�� By the time
that Harry had exhausted himself and slumped to the floor of the training room,
where he panted and sweated like a cow who�d run away from the slaughterhouse,
he�d made his decision. He�d be Draco�s friend. He was still that, no matter
what happened. He would be his partner.

�� But he was fucked if he told Draco that he wanted
him, at least while Draco was like this. Draco would assume that meant he had
more power over Harry and could force him into doing other stupid, petty,
annoying things, changing himself like a good little dog�like a pet like
Politesse�just because Harry wanting him somehow meant more than friendship.

�� It doesn�t, Harry thought, standing up
and flinging his wet hair out of his face before he went to the showers. They�re equally as important as each other.
But one of them he�s never getting from me unless he apologizes and stops acting
like a prick.

*

�� Draco had
assumed that Harry was so honest and open and emotional that he would never be
able to do cold distance well.

�� In the next
few days, when it felt as though someone had put a wall of glass between him
and Harry, he learned he�d been wrong.

�� His mother
sent news that there had been no rash of disappearances among the families she
was aware of, or among the families outside her immediate social circles that the
Abranes might know. Draco discussed that with Harry, as well as his suspicion
that Nihil had created faces that weren�t real on bodies like the fake Death
Eaters they had spoken to in the interrogation rooms. Harry nodded, expression
calm and eyes looking everywhere but at Draco.

�� Then where
did the bodies come from?� he asked. �That�s what we need to find out.�

�� All the
reading Draco could do about magical cores yielded no story of symptoms that
matched Harry�s. Frustrated, he asked Harry again what happened to him during
his fits. Harry described going back into an intense memory, this time the
memory of Snape�s death, which had been the one that knocked him down that day
in Gregory�s class. Draco stepped closer to Harry, daring to put an arm around
his shoulders.

�� Harry moved
away without appearing to notice.

�� Because
most of the leads seemed to be closing in on them, Draco suggested that they
try to interview the young woman, the former trainee, who�d escaped from
Gregory�s clutches. Battle Healer Portillo Lopez had treated her and sent her
home, but she had come back, maybe because her wounds were paining her. The
people Draco had questioned had heard only rumors about why she was in the
Ministry again. The important thing was that she was.

�� Harry
agreed with any sign of enthusiasm, and they set out for Portillo Lopez�s
office.

�� Draco
stared at him from the corner of his eye all the way there. Harry was more
quiet and subdued than Draco had ever seen him. He seemed to walk cloaked in
his own thoughts much of the time. He would emerge from them to answer Draco if
Draco asked him a question, but then he went straight back into them again.

�� He would
never be as elegant on the outside, but otherwise, he was rather like Politesse,
calm and cold and restrained. Draco had assumed he would enjoy that, if it ever
happened.

�� He hated
it.

�� But he
couldn�t see any way to apologize for the things that Harry seemed to want him to
apologize for. That would be like yielding, giving up his pride yet again and letting Harry get away
with behavior that even he had acknowledged
was selfish behavior. Draco needed to see Harry give something of his own free
will. Then he could soften and give the apology in return and not feel as
though he was the weaker one in their contest.

�� But it
seemed that Harry would prefer the contest simply continue on.

�� Draco
gritted his teeth. Fine.

�� When he
knocked on the door of Portillo Lopez�s office, no one answered, but the door
glowed and swung inwards, which was a sign that the Battle Healer wanted to
invite her students to wait inside. Draco stepped in, resisting the childish
temptation to shut the door in Harry�s face.

�� Then he
stood very, very still.

Harry walked into his back and
peered over his shoulder, saying in annoyance, �Draco, what��

�� Then he was
still, too.

��

�� Someone was
pinned against the wall of Portillo Lopez�s office opposite the door. There
were knives through her elbows, and through her shoulders, and through her
eyes. They glittered like fallen stars, bright as justice through all the blood
that had flowed over them. Draco could see the way the body hung, and he knew
that the knives must have been driven straight through the woman�s body into
the wall itself.

�� She was not
Portillo Lopez, he could make himself see a moment later, and the knife-wounds
were not the only ones she had. He didn�t know how he had missed it before, but
the entire front of her body had been torn open, her chest and belly peeled
down but left attached so that they drooped on the floor like a bolt of cloth.
Her organs had apparently been scraped out of her chest. The blood had been
left, though, and the muscle, and dark glistening pieces of flesh and globs of
liquid that made Draco think of thick jellies. He bit his lip and his stomach heaved
as he gasped.

�� Do you think
she�s the one who escaped Auror Gregory?� Harry whispered, what seemed an
endless heartbeat of time later. His hand had come to rest on Draco�s shoulder,
and Draco leaned back into him, grateful for the support.

�� Yes,� he
said. �We have to tell someone.�

�� In the
silence that followed his words, the sound of the door closing and locking
behind them was very loud.

�� Draco
turned his head, slowly, feeling as if he had all the time in the world.

�� The tall,
dark-haired, blue-eyed woman he had last seen at the Abranes� party was walking
towards them from the door that led to Portillo Lopez�s private library. She
had a pleasant smile on her face and a whirling ball of golden light cupped
between her hands.

�� Beside her,
on either side, stalked glittering messes of flesh that had been sculpted by
clumsy magic into the form of four-legged beasts. Cats, maybe. Draco swallowed
again; now he knew where the victim�s organs had gone.

�� Allow me
to introduce myself,� the woman said. �I thought it time we should formally meet.
My name is Nusquam.� She inclined her head, her smile so perfectly polite that
Draco suffered the delusion that his mother would approve of her manners. �And
it is time for another test, I believe. Though I hope this one works better
than the last one,� she added, with a slight roll of her eyes. �Nemo and his
creatures test my patience.�

�� She lifted
the sphere of light to her mouth and blew sharply into it.

�� Draco fell
to the floor as his magic revolted against him. Through blurring eyes, he saw
the compacted masses of flesh heave themselves at Harry.

�� And then,
darkness, and pounding heartbeats, and oceanic silence as he tried to stop his
magic from becoming grief magic.

*

�� SP777: They
were learning to stop each other�s
spells, and how to drain just a bit of each other�s magic, so that they would
grow stronger but not incapacitate each other.

�� hieisdragoness18:
As you can see by this chapter, what I really meant was that Draco had just
heard her name.

�� Tree802: At
least Harry is standing up for himself now, though Draco is refusing to admit
he has a point.

�� MewMew2:
Thank you!

�� polka dot:
Draco thinks Harry should allow this change to happen if he�s really not going
to be selfish. But Harry hates that idea and is already pushing back against
it.

�� Dragons
Breath: Harry doesn�t quite know what the problem is, but he�s getting deeply
annoyed with Draco�s cowardice anyway.
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