Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Rising of the Stones	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 13237 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 28
- 29
- 30
Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Twenty-Nine--The de Berenzan Approach
Draco opened his eyes slowly. He knew there was something wrong, something that didn't have to do with the warmth and weight of Harry curled against his back. Something that went so much further than that it made his skin prickle to contemplate.
And oddly enough, the sensation seemed to be coming from his cupboard where his Auror robes hung.
Draco moved his hand slowly over to his wand. He never slept with it far away, although also not with it under his pillow (a recipe for breaking it, he thought). Harry continued breathing softly behind him as he sat up.
Periculum recludo, Draco thought as hard as he could, wordlessly waving his wand through the passes of the Danger-Revealing Charm.
For a moment, nothing happened, and Draco was almost ready to put the sensation of danger down to his training and instincts. But then the door of the cupboard trembled, and slid open a little to reveal one particular robe that shone with a soft, menacing golden light.
Right, Draco thought. Possibly someone had managed to place a Tracking Charm on him the last time he wore it, although Draco wasn't sure why he would have picked up on that now. He slipped out of bed and moved softly towards the cupboard.
When he touched the robe, the whole left side split along the seam. Hissing, Draco ducked out of the way, certain he was about to be hit by something someone had implanted in the robe and charmed to attack him.
Instead, Draco found himself staring at a polished piece of metal, so large and sharp-edged that there was no way Draco could have missed it if someone had slipped it into his robe, or Transfigured the cloth into it. Within the metal, shining with the soft-edged clarity of a crystal ball's vision, sat de Berenzan, his hands folded.
"So glad to see you at last, Auror Malfoy. I wondered when you would find the charm that transformed part of the robe into a communications mirror."
Draco said nothing, while his mind worked through the implications. He'd of course heard of communications mirrors, although they weren't common. But one that only one party knew about could also be used for spying.
He'd never heard of a spell that could transform part of an object into a communications mirror some of the time, and his mind spun trying to comprehend the theory. But he didn't show his confusion or lack of poise. He simply inclined his head and murmured, "A pleasure to see you again now that you're not sending Aurors to kill me."
de Berenzan sighed and contemplated what might have been the ceiling for a moment, although the mirror so foreshortened the perspective that Draco couldn't be completely sure what he was tilting his head to look at. "I regret the necessity. But it was a dire necessity. And most of the Aurors had orders only to capture and not kill, you know."
Draco raised an effortless eyebrow.
"Believe what you like. You will anyway. Now." de Berenzan unclasped his hands and gestured elegantly. "How many Galleons do you want to deliver Harry Potter to me?"
"There's no bribe great enough.”
"Not money then. I should have remembered you have vaults of it. What do you want? Name your price. The Head Auror's position wouldn't be too far away."
"No price great enough, I should have said. Maybe that would have made you listen to and believe me." Draco gave a faint smile in de Berenzan's direction. "And I know that your Aurors would have killed me, and Lovegood, and anyone else they thought they needed to kill, once you decided to suppress this information. I don't negotiate with people who tried to murder me."
"Can't you see how dangerous Potter is for our world? How the news he insists on promoting is going to destabilize the Ministry?"
"I understand that you're going to lose power, and someone else will be elected, maybe a Minister who won't panic at the thought that people can be born without a soul-mark. And that's enough revenge for me."
"Your job could be in danger, too, Auror Malfoy."
"And here I thought it wouldn't be. Here I thought it couldn't possibly be, more than it already is." Draco shook his head in sad astonishment.
"The public will lose confidence in the Ministry. Do you understand what happened the last time that occurred? Members of the Wizengamot unseated, the Minister forced to resign, the laws in chaos since people believed they'd been passed to give pure-bloods an unfair advantage, 'reformers' running around loose in all the Departments, people who had worked their lives for the good of our world sent into poorly-paid retirement..."
"You seem to think you can appeal to me as if I'm still part of the Ministry. I'm not, anymore. I understood that I would have to give that up the moment I decided to stand beside Harry."
de Berenzan bowed his head with an expression of despair. It might even have affected Draco, but he'd seen the Minister use it too often. He remained still and silent, his eyes fixed on the mirror.
"There's a good reason that we decided children without soul-marks couldn't be allowed to live," de Berenzan whispered without looking up. "We knew they would never have happy lives, that they would be restless and dissatisfied. Everyone needs to unite with the person who has their soul-mark. It grounds them and makes them happier."
A laugh ripped out of Draco's throat before he could stop it. de Berenzan jumped and looked at him hopefully. "Then you understand? You think that we need to keep an eye on them even if they don't turn into Dark Lords?"
"I think there's a huge difference between keeping an eye on them and killing them at birth," Draco said, biting down his amusement. "But it makes more sense to me that you would want to kill them because you believe in soulmates than because you believe in Dark Lords. Restless, dissatisfied people would get the urge to change the world, wouldn't they? Including the Ministry. So it makes total sense to me that you would want them dead."
He paused, then added, "The only thing I'm surprised about is that you used the justification of soul-marks leading people to their perfect match and making them happy. You romantic, you."
The Minister was silent long enough that Draco thought he might not respond. Then he said, in a strangely subdued voice, “You should know better than anyone why I did that.”
“I should know better than anyone?” Draco repeated, shaking his head. de Berenzan might have spied on a lot of his conversations with Harry, but that would mean he knew how little Draco thought of the traditional notion of soulmates. “What do you mean by that?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” And now de Berenzan was smirking, reaching one hand out as if he was going to scrub the mirror clean with his palm. “I look forward to seeing you again, Auror Malfoy. Watch the papers.”
He made the scrubbing motion, and vanished. Draco sat back on his heels and stared at the mirror blankly.
He didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing, or feeling. It seemed as though the conversation had emptied him out, and even speculation about the spell de Berenzan had used and when he had used it couldn’t occupy his racing mind for long.
“Draco?”
Harry’s voice was sleepy, but warm and welcome. Draco went back to bed and lay down beside Harry, cradling him with an arm around his shoulders when Harry made a questioning noise. He lay there until Harry whispered, “I heard part of that. What did he do?”
“Turned one of my robes into a communication mirror. Or a spy mirror. I don’t know how long he’s been doing it.” Draco absently stroked Harry’s hair. He was still playing with de Berenzan’s words and trying to understand what they could mean. Most of the time, he could come up with an interpretation. This time, he had no idea. Some threat to Harry, certainly, but that didn’t explain why de Berenzan had thought Draco would understand him. “I suppose we can’t worry that much about what he heard.”
“You haven’t worn that robe much lately,” Harry pointed out. “He would have heard what we said here in the bedroom, and not much else.”
Draco lay still, and then chuckled. He hadn’t thought of that. He had assumed without thinking about it that of course de Berenzan could move his spell between robes, and spy on Draco whenever he liked, out of any pair of them. But why should he think that? The spell had to have its limitations.
And even if he could, Draco still hadn’t been wearing his Auror robes much lately.
“You’re a lifesaver, Harry,” he murmured.
“I am not. Too much of the time, I’m not.”
Draco rolled his eyes a little. He’d meant it metaphorically, and forgotten the history Harry had with that term. “Fine, you’re not,” he said soothingly.
“And don’t think I don’t know when you’re soothing me,” Harry snapped, rolling to the side and away from the grip of Draco’s arm.
“Fine, I’m soothing you,” Draco said, and decided the best thing he could try was honesty, because that always utterly confused Harry. He lounged on the pillow and watched as Harry tightened his shoulders in response. “Do you want me to keep doing it?”
Harry’s fingers tapped on the bed, making the sheets ripple. Draco looked at them politely, and then looked back at Harry instead. Harry kept his head turned away, frowning so fiercely that it looked as if it hurt his lips.
“I don’t know what I want,” Harry finally said, in a sullen voice.
“Not to be called a savior. I know. Or a hero.” Draco reached out and gathered Harry close again, and ignored the way that Harry’s elbows dug weakly into his side as if he was getting ready to fight his way out. Draco thought that if Harry was going to fight his way out, he would bloody well know. “But that’s only negative. It doesn’t tell me the positive.”
“I don’t feel very positive right now.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know.”
Draco rested his head next to Harry’s, and felt their cheeks brush, and the way Harry was exhaling, so rapidly that it made his hair sway. “I think you should talk to me about it, and be as honest as you can. That way, I’ll know.”
“How can I do that when I don’t even know where to start with saying it?” Harry muttered, but in a slightly weak voice now.
Draco held a chuckle back with an effort. It was more than a little absurd, the way they were acting, honestly. “I can hold you like this while you decide what you want. Would that work?”
Harry sighed out as though he was being asked to make the hardest decision in the world, and then let his head droop down on Draco’s shoulder. “Fine.”
He remained silent long enough that Draco thought he might have gone to sleep, and he was prepared to do the same himself. But then Harry cleared his throat, and Draco sat back up in expectation.
“The reason I don’t want to be called a savior or a hero,” Harry said carefully, “is that I used to think that meant I could never fail. And that made certain things worse. Like the way I felt about not having a soulmate.”
“But—your not having a soulmate didn’t mean you failed to save anyone,” Draco said, not bothering to hide his bewilderment.
“But I failed at having a perfect romance. The way a hero is supposed to. And I failed Ginny. She wanted so badly to be my soulmate, and in the end I had to tell her that we didn’t have matching marks.”
Draco sneered. “Asking me to care about Ginny Weasley’s happiness is futile.”
“Draco.”
“I know what I want. You in my arms, and to stop boring on and on about soulmates.”
“I was only telling you what I felt then. Not now.”
Somewhat appeased, Draco sighed and continued. “If she really wanted you, then she could have done the same thing I am. Cleaved to you no matter whose mark she carried. What does it matter if you don’t have the same mark? She could have said it didn’t matter. She would have if she really loved you.”
“Don’t say bad things about her. Just—stop.” Draco was quiet, and Harry stroked his arm and continued on in a soft voice. “Besides, I didn’t really give her a chance to do it. I just made my excuses and my apologies and left.”
“She didn’t come after you?”
“How could she, when I just cut her off like that?”
“I would have followed you,” Draco said. “I would have refused to accept it, the way I did when you tried to be all stupid and noble about taking me away from the supposed love of my life. But Weasley just drooped and gave in, didn’t she? When I saw her, she was still drooping.”
“She really wanted me to be her soulmate. She still—I suppose she always believed that soulmates were perfect halves of each other’s soul. And most of her brothers did find theirs, and so did her parents. She didn’t have anyone to tell her that wasn’t true.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “She’s smart enough to have figured it out on her own—and that’s the only compliment I’ll ever pay her, so don’t look for others. But she let you go. So you didn’t fail anyone. You didn’t fail her or yourself or your heroic image.” He paused and interjected a bit of teasing into his voice. “You still have plenty of people who think you’re a hero, don’t you? The Harryheads, for example.”
Harry had to smile a little. Draco felt the motion of his lips against his collarbone. “That’s true enough.” He sighed and rolled back against Draco. “Sorry for reacting like that. But it’s hard enough to hear from the Harryheads about how heroic I supposedly am. When you said something like that, I—reacted.”
“Yes, forgiven,” Draco said, and rubbed his back. “We’ve given each other our wonderful insights now, just like true soulmates supposedly do all the time. Why don’t we go to sleep now and astonish each other some more in the morning?”
Harry answered without words, with a swift, stunning crush of a kiss that made Draco gasp and collapse back into the pillows. And Harry hovered above him, grinning.
“Let me astonish you right now,” he said, and did it with the speed that he used his hands on Draco’s body to make him writhe and gasp.
*
Draco woke to silence. And he knew it was more profound silence than Harry simply being in the bathroom or at breakfast.
He forced himself to wash and use grooming charms and get dressed with the same exact speed he always used. If Harry regretted something about last night and had left, Draco would handle this with dignity. He would send him a Patronus or call his friends’ houses by Floo until he found him.
When he came out into the dining room, though, Harry was sitting at the table and staring at a paper. Draco paused, Minister de Berenzan’s words echoing in his head. Watch the papers.
“Harry?” he asked quietly.
Harry turned and extended the paper to him with a question in his eyes. It was the Prophet, which didn’t surprise Draco. He couldn’t imagine that any sum of money the Minister could offer Lovegood was enough to make her publish things for him in the Quibbler.
“Did he turn Doge?” he asked, and glanced at the front story.
But no, it wasn’t about Harry really being a Dark Lord after all, or the supposed chaos that Harry could cause in the Ministry as someone markless. It was a set of photographs, two of them, Draco on one side with his head tossed back and his eyes gleaming bright and arrogant—one taken after a successful arrest, Draco discerned—and on the other side, her lip trembling, Rose Sheldon. Draco’s soul-mark was just visible peeking out from under his robes. And Sheldon’s showed when she turned to the camera and made part of her sleeve vanish.
They were the same.
Draco ignored the headline and the article itself, both of which were stupid attempts to stir up some sort of scandal about Draco having left his “destined” soulmate. de Berenzan was a fool if he thought that tactic would work with Harry’s friends or the Harryheads. Draco wouldn’t place high odds on it working with the general public, either.
It was the effect this might have on Harry that Draco dreaded.
“So,” he said quietly. “Now you know.”
And he sat down, staring at Harry, and awaited what would happen next.
*
SP777: Thanks! It's going to end at Chapter 35, so a few more weeks still.
- 28
- 29
- 30
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Rising of the Stones