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Rejoicing In Their Strength	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9781 -:- 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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�� Look in
the mirror, Draco. The cure has progressed. Soon you will feel much better than
you do now.�

�� Lucius�s
hands were on his shoulders. Lucius�s breath was in his ear. Draco shuddered
with an instinctive revulsion, wishing he could flee from his body as he did
under the physical torture, but Lucius would surely notice it now, as he didn�t
when he was preoccupied with his tools. His father�s noticing his distance from
the process of �curing� him was a step closer to his father discovering the
truth.

�� Draco could
not endure it if that happened, and to endure was harder than to live.

�� He lifted
his head and gazed into the mirror at the ruin of his body that Lucius
considered �progress.�

�� He was so
emaciated that Draco knew he would have fallen over if Lucius hadn�t supported
him. His skin was translucent in places, clearly showing the maze of running
blue veins and the marks of sores and weals and scars and burns that Lucius had
inflicted on him. And bites, from the rats three days ago, though Draco forced
himself to look at those more objectively. His vision had trembled at the edges
when he focused on them for too long, which was a sure sign that his astral
projection was preparing to happen in spite of all the control he could
exercise over it.

�� His
shoulder blades stuck out of his body like broken bats� wings. His teeth were
the most prominent part of his face. His ears lacked the lobes, his hair grew
sparse, and his jaw trembled and hung loose constantly, no matter how often
Draco tried to clamp it shut.

�� Draco gazed
at himself as steadfastly as he could, privately glad that he could change his
appearance to whatever he wanted when he was in astral form. Otherwise, though
he might have got pity from people like Potter and his pack, it was very hard
to imagine that they would ever take him seriously.

�� So good,�
Lucius whispered to him, and stroked down one of Draco�s legs, which was so
thin that it looked like a chicken bone to Draco. There was a streak of dried
blood on his knee. He looked at that instead of his father�s healthy hand
touching his skin. Draco�s hands bore the swollen joints of repeatedly broken
fingers.

�� And Lucius would have done worse if I defied
him.

�� Lucius
stood back upright, and caught Draco�s eye, and smiled. The thickness of Dark
magic crackled in the air around him, smelling like rotted fruit mixed with
rotten meat, and Draco closed his eyes in pain and exhaustion and dread.

�� Not long
now,� Lucius whispered, as if he were consoling a sulky child. �And then you�ll
be healthy, and we�ll be free of this curse that plagues us.�

�� He helped
Draco limp back to his bedroom, murmuring tender words all the while, and then
went to fetch the screws that he would drive into Draco�s spine. Draco shut his
eyes and leaped free.

�� One cold
thought rode with him, like a heavy bolt of glass that was meant to rivet him
to his body.

�� Even if I escaped, would my life be worth
living?

*

�� The forest
glade was a relief after that, even if the only person Draco could see in it
was Potter, and even if Potter�s eyes fixed on him the moment he arrived,
giving Draco none of the pleasure of trying to sneak up on him.

�� And even if
Potter half-rose to his feet with a startled exclamation.

�� What�s
happened to you?�

�� Draco
changed his astral appearance at once. He must have brought along some of the
wounds that Lucius had inflicted on him, or perhaps come naked. It was one of
the reasons he hated looking into the mirror; it always influenced his
perception of the appearance his �body� took the next time he escaped from his
prison.

�� He was
especially regretful for this time, since Potter was staring at him with wide
and startled eyes. Draco�s only comfort was that it couldn�t have been as bad
as it had looked in reality, or Potter would have laughed and said something
about Draco deserving it. No, probably it was only nakedness, to shock him.

�� Then Draco
thought about the hunt he had seen the other night, and wondered whether it was
really that easy to shock Potter any longer.

�� He shrugged
off and buried the speculations, because Potter was waiting for him to speak, and
he had no way of knowing if what Draco said was the truth or a lie. �Nightmares
sometimes affect me that way,� Draco said. �And it�s easy to have nightmares
when you�re in the house that the Dark Lord used as his headquarters.�

�� He wanted
Potter to step back from Draco�s casual mention of nightmares, eyes bright with
respect at the tone. Surely it should make Draco look powerful if he disregarded
his own pain. But it seemed that becoming a werewolf hadn�t dimmed Potter�s
sense of self-righteousness, because he stepped closer instead, nostrils wide
as if he were focusing those keen bodily senses he had talked about on Draco.
�How often do you have the nightmares?� His voice was low.

�� Every
night,� Draco said. For a moment, he wondered about telling Potter the truth,
but what was Potter going to do? He�d said that he wasn�t leaving this forest
until his pack had all learned control of their wolves, and it wouldn�t happen
in the next few weeks, which Draco estimated was all the time he had until
Lucius killed him. Nor could he tell anyone who would investigate and see the
truth. Lucius would simply find some way to cover up and lie his way out of it.
And then he would hurt Draco even more because of it. No, Draco was not so
stupid as to believe in a rescue.

�� That truth
sank home for the first time. If the sight of his body had been a glass bolt in
his spine, this was a lead chain about his chest. Draco closed his eyes.

�� There was
an odd tingle in his left shoulder. Draco looked up in surprise to see Potter
withdrawing his hand with an embarrassed look.

�� Sorry,� he
murmured. �I would comfort my people by touching them, but I forgot that I
can�t do that with you.� He stepped back and circled around Draco as if trying
to look for the most solid part of him, reminding Draco of nothing so much as a
wolf circling a locked barn. �It�s no wonder that you use your magic to flee
when you can. Is there�� He shook his head harshly. �No, of course there
isn�t.�

�� There
isn�t what?� Draco asked. He kept a sharp eye on the anxious, condescending
expression on Potter�s face. As long as it didn�t grow too strong, then he
could put up with it. It was�slightly pleasant to have someone ask questions
about him as if they would have liked to aid him.

�� There
isn�t anything I can do to help you,� Potter said harshly, and settled back on
the ground with a fluid motion that Draco never would have believed if he
hadn�t seen Potter move far more gracefully in the forest. �If I went back now,
everyone would question me about where I�d been, and there would be people who
could work out what happened, because my wolf is never far from the surface. I
would need to persuade the Minister and the Wizengamot that you should be
released from house arrest, and I�m not sure that my voice is politically
relevant anymore.� He pawed a distressed hand across his forehead, his eyes
turning yellow.

�� Draco bit
his lip and stayed quiet. He wanted to
say something about how Potter could get around that if he�d ever bothered to
learn how to properly wield his political influence, but why should he? Potter
would talk some mealy-mouthed moral rubbish about how he couldn�t take
advantage of his fame, and the situation would say exactly what it was now. Draco
couldn�t be disappointed because he hadn�t expected anything less. Potter had
no idea of the truth, and his first loyalty had always been to the people
clustered around him�who had never included Draco.

�� Perhaps
Potter could alert his friends, but even if he did, that would mean the Aurors
would come clumsily sniffing about, and Lucius would punish Draco more in the
end.

�� I
appreciate the sentiment,� he said, because he could say that as an abstract
statement and mean it. �I�d rather hear more about the pack and your part in
it, to be honest. That�s what I�m here for, not discussing my own situation.�

�� Potter
watched him with brooding eyes for a few more moments, and then nodded and
climbed to his feet. His scar appeared briefly as his head shifted, and Draco
started. Usually it was the first thing he stared at, to remind himself that
this was Potter he was talking to and orient his mindset accordingly. This
time, it hadn�t occurred to him to look for it. Potter�s aura of strength was a
much better reason to stare.

�� I
understand,� Potter said. �And it�ll be interesting to tell this story to
someone who isn�t already part of the pack and doesn�t understand it
instinctively because of the presence of the wolf moving inside him.� He
grinned. Draco decided his impression of the other day hadn�t been mistaken;
Potter�s teeth were longer and sharper
than they had been when he was human. �When you didn�t return after the hunt, I
decided that you�d grown disgusted with us.�

�� No.� Draco
drifted after Potter and seated himself on the ground, legs folded, when Potter
settled down in a crouch outside one of the houses. For a moment, his arse
passed through the grass, but he readjusted before Potter could do more than
raise an amused eyebrow. Draco lifted his head with assured haughtiness and
asked a question that he thought would distract Potter. �When did you become so
bloody good at killing?�

�� It was bloody, wasn�t it?� Potter murmured,
misunderstanding the question because he was Potter. He examined his hands for
a moment, as if he expected to see silver nails there, before he lifted his
gaze to Draco. �When I took the wolf into myself,� he answered. �When I decided
that I couldn�t become absorbed, either by the change itself and the hunger it
produces or by the fact that the wolf existed.�

�� Draco
folded his arms and nodded to show that he was listening.

�� It�s hard
to describe the wolf,� Potter said. �It�s not exactly a separate animal, or being, inside me�although it comes
close to that for someone like Hyacinth, who has so much strength to control.
It�s more like�a need. A twitch in the muscles when they�re not exercised
enough. A taste for the right kind of food that obsesses you more the longer it
goes unfulfilled.� He smiled, and Draco saw the golden haze brighten and grow
strong in his eyes again. �Yes,� Potter repeated softly. �A taste for the right
kind of food. Exactly like that.�

�� Draco
leaned forwards. �I�m surprised that you managed to come to that decision in
the first place. I�ve always heard that werewolves are mindless before the change, before the day of the
full moon, and all the restraints in the world won�t keep the wolf back when it
wants to come out.�

�� Potter
snorted. �What causes the mindlessness is the werewolves� attempt to ignore or
flee from their fate. The wolf doesn�t like being ignored. It�ll surge up all
the more destructively if one of us tries to pretend that they�re just a normal
human. It�s like that taste I told you about. Ignore it and the food becomes
all you can think about.�

�� One of us, Draco thought in wonder. Potter has managed to become one of the monsters,
and he seems comfortable being so.

�� And
sometimes, of course,� Potter continued in a soft, grim voice, �you get someone
like Fenrir Greyback, who revels in causing damage and pain. He�ll invite the
mindlessness in and run with it, until the wolf takes over most of the time.
It�s why he looked like a wolf even when he was in human form�the yellow
fingernails and the long teeth.� He shook his head and looked away.

�� How was he
able to bite you?� Draco asked, giving in to his curiosity, though his mother
would surely have called it vulgar. �I would have thought the Ministry would
keep you locked up like a virgin bride until all the Death Eaters were dealt
with.�

�� Potter
sighed. �He sent me a note saying that he was ready to surrender, but he would
only surrender in my presence and on the night of the full moon. I could bring
all the Aurors I liked and all the silver I liked and�and everything else. I
went because I was a young, na�ve idiot.�

�� Draco was
startled into laughing. �It�s good to see you recognize that.�

�� Potter
turned his head quickly, and Draco recoiled in spite of himself at the sight of
those teeth champing together and the eyes focused on him�and maybe the sheer
swiftness of the motion, too. Potter�s swaying head left afterimages in his
vision. �I was,� he said. �What I am now is better than that, despite all the
pain I�ve gone through. I know what I am and accept it, and I can protect other
people from me and my pack members from dying because of their wolves. That�s
worth it.�

�� Draco had
to look away, because he wasn�t sure what Potter would see in his eyes if he
kept returning his gaze. �And of course Fenrir managed to slaughter the Aurors
that you�d brought along, and evade the weapons.�

�� Of
course,� Potter said dryly. �He acted as if he wanted to kill me, too, then
ended up biting me. He was howling when he did it, but I�d swear he was
laughing.� One hand rose to his right shoulder to touch the bite Draco had
noticed before. �He ran away after that, and left me to explain myself.

�� I concealed
that I was bitten from everyone except Ron and Hermione, and told the Ministry
that they needed to take Greyback seriously as a threat. They did. Meanwhile, I
started studying how to control my wolf.�

�� Potter
paused reflectively. �Except for my first change.�

�� Draco
raised his eyebrows. �You let yourself have one night of howling in misery and
pacing up and down in a small room? I can�t imagine that that made your wolf
very happy.� Of course, given Potter�s innate nobility, it was also impossible
to imagine him doing anything else.

�� Potter
smiled at him. His eyes were glinting, and his head tilted to the side, and
Draco suddenly felt as if Potter were considering the angle he would need to
get to Draco�s jugular. �No. I made sure that I knew where Greyback was�those
senses I told you about are useful for tracking other werewolves, too�and then
I warded the forest so that he couldn�t get out and neither could I. I made
sure I was close to him when I changed.� His fingers rose in front of him,
clenching, and once again he seemed to be testing the strength of invisible
claws.

�� I tore the
bastard�s throat out.�

�� The sound
of the growl in the back of his voice would have made Draco�s hair rise and his
heart beat faster, if it could have. And it did something else. Draco felt
himself close his eyes and tilt his head back in sheer reaction.

�� This was
Potter the way Draco had sometimes daydreamed he could be, when he allowed
himself to forget about Potter�s stupid fucking heroics and focus on the pranks
he pulled on Slytherins instead. This was Potter acknowledging the full force
of his strength and using it. He was
one of the monsters, but he hadn�t become like the Dark Lord or Greyback.
Still, he tore people�s throats out.

�� Draco knew
he would have gone hard if they were in the same room.

�� And after
that,� Potter went on, in a gentler voice, as if he knew that Draco needed time
to absorb what he�d just heard, �I started to look out for other werewolves who
were still struggling to cope with what they were instead of sinking hopelessly
under their burden, or using it as an excuse to run mad. I found Celia, and
Josh, and Leila, that way.�

�� Draco
opened his eyes and tried to do something else other than to stare at Potter in
avid lust. �I know who you�re leaving out, having met the pack,� he said with
some difficulty. Potter shot him a curious look, which suggested he didn�t know
how he�d affected Draco after all. Draco cleared his throat and hurried on.
�How did you find Hyacinth?�

�� I heard rumors
about her,� Potter said, settling back in the grass so that now he was sitting
with his legs crossed beneath him, like a normal person, rather than on his
buttocks, like a wolf. �That she�d been changed and her family was desperately
trying to keep her from murdering anyone�and that they�d failed. When I found
her, she was near to committing suicide out of despair. I did what I could to
protect and help her. It wasn�t until I transformed and fought her and won that
she started to think I could help her control her wolf, though.�

�� I
understand why,� Draco said. �She�s incredibly powerful.�

�� Potter
nodded, with compassion and pity stirring together like water and mud in his
eyes. �If she was a real wolf and born with that amount of strength, she could
lead a pack, no question. If she was a human woman, she could be a politician.
But werewolves aren�t natural creatures, and unless she learns to dance with it
like a partner, then there�s nowhere for that strength to go.� He lifted his
head, and Draco saw the same determination that had been in his eyes when he
howled at the moon. �There�s no place for us. So we�re going to create one.�

�� Draco
wanted to shiver. He had never imagined that that would be the action he would
miss being able to do the most when he was astral, but it seemed that Potter
had made it so. �No one but you could do it, Potter.�

�� Potter gave
him a quick smile, but shook his head. �No. Someone else could have come up with this strategy. I just
happen to be the one who did.�

�� Draco nodded
and said nothing else. If Potter wanted to persist in his little delusion, then
Draco wasn�t going to contradict him.

�� Now.�
Potter sprawled forwards and settled his elbows on the grass and his chin on
his hands. �Why did you stay away for three days after the hunt if you weren�t
disgusted with us? I thought the timing no coincidence.�

�� Because Lucius hurt me so badly that I spent
most of those three days unconscious, and the rest with him watching me too
closely, wasn�t an answer that Draco could give, given the careful web of
lies he�d spun about himself by this point. He shrugged instead. �I got busy. I
was slightly less bored. I was able to talk to my father, which isn�t always
the case; he�s always scheming to get us out.� Draco was proud of how level his
voice remained on those words. He could still lie well. He still had power of a
sort.

�� It�s the only power you�ll have soon. You
should tell Potter the truth and let him do something to help you.

�� But Draco
dismissed the idea. Potter had stated his limitations all too clearly. What
could Draco expect him to do? And besides, he thought he should be able to
choose how much he revealed and to whom. It would be rare enough that he got to
make choices in the rest of his life. If he wanted to die with his mouth shut
on the words that would expose him as weak and contemptible to Potter, then he
should be able to do that.

�� Acceptable,�
Potter said, tilting his head to the side and watching Draco with wild eyes
that wavered between gold and green. �And yet, I think, not quite the whole
truth.�

�� Draco
shrugged, glad that he couldn�t sweat in this form, and that any nervous
fidgets he did on reflex were probably absorbed in the general flickering and
flashing of his unstable limbs. �If I don�t want to retell every boring detail
of my closed-in days, Potter, I personally think that you should find that reassuring.�

�� Potter,
thankfully, laughed and sat upright again, this time with his legs sprawled
around him in a pose that struck somewhere between wolf and human. He tries to incorporate the balance even
into his gestures, Draco thought. I
can see why the others would find it difficult to imitate him. �You�re
probably right about that,� he said. �Well, I hope you continue to visit.
You�re the first non-werewolf I�ve told about this, other than my friends, who
would trust me if I told them I needed them to follow me into a giant�s lair. And
if you took it this well, then maybe the Wizengamot will, too. Someday.�

�� Draco
winced. �Potter, I took it this well because I like power, and I don�t mind
blood,� he said. �What you showed me in the hunt was beautiful. I don�t think
many other people would see it the same way.�

�� Potter
winked at him. �Ah, but you grew up with the tales of werewolves as monsters and
you still managed to overcome your prejudices. I think that someone who�s lived
outside the wizarding world, like a Muggleborn, might be more sympathetic.�

�� Draco
snorted. �And there�s so many of those on the Wizengamot.�

�� Well, then
there might be pure-bloods like you who think we�re beautiful,� Potter said
with determined optimism. When Draco rolled his eyes, he said at once, in a
challenging tone that made Draco understand how a wolf could roll over and show
its belly, �Well, what do you think is beautiful about us, then?�

�� You�re
wild,� Draco said. �And that�s something a human can admire, but it�s not the
same thing as thinking you�re harmless. I know you can�t hurt me even if you
try. If I were in front of you in the flesh, I�d no doubt feel differently.�

�� Potter
sighed and ran his hand down his face. �Yes, perhaps you�re right. But I still
think we should try, and use as many advantages of both wolf and human as we
can to��

�� Get away from him.�

�� Potter
sprang up and away from Draco, landing on all fours and growling from deep in
his chest. Draco vanished and then reappeared facing the one who had spoken
from the woods.

�� It was
Hyacinth, walking on her hands and knees, her eyes fixed on him and her
nostrils so wide that Draco could see the red inside them. They were flaring
and sniffing, and she seemed uncertain whether she saw or smelled him most
keenly. She had a better growl than Potter did.

�� I can
smell him,� she said. �Blood, pain, death-stink. He comes from a place of
torture and madness. He hasn�t told you everything, leader.� She turned her
gaze towards Potter, and it grew briefly reverent, but the next moment she was
looking back at Draco with no loss of suspicion.

�� Malfoy?�
Potter asked.

�� It was all
there in his voice�the old hatred, the old uncertainty as to whether Draco was
good or evil, the doubt that he should have shown him any attention because
Draco wasn�t worth such attention.

�� He must think that I�m the one torturing
people.

�� Draco
leaped without answering. He had only a few weeks left to live. He wasn�t about
to spend them with people who insisted on turning him into a person he hadn�t
been�mentally or physically�in years.

�� Your pride will choke you to death.

�� Then at least I don�t have to swallow it,
Draco answered the voice in the back of his mind, and swam away through the
astral world.

*

�� PantiesAreOverrated:
Well, I�m very glad! I hope that you enjoy this chapter as well.

�� Mangacat:
Harry�s picked up that something�s off now, but unfortunately, Draco is still
obsessed with pride and power dynamics.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Draco can basically stay away from his body as long as he wants to, and it�s
going to be a good idea as Lucius grows obsessed with his tortures.

�� dana_aeryn:
Thank you! Lucius gets worse in the next couple of chapters, so you should be
able to see madness to your heart�s content.

�� mrequecky:
Thank you!

�� FallenAngel1129:
Thank you! In this story, the wolves look like ordinary wolves, but bigger and
more solid in the bodies, shoulders, and legs (regular wolves are often fairly
lean).

�� SP777:
Neither, actually! I�ve just always loved describing animals, and wolves are
among my favorites, so I have practice writing hunts.

�� Yes. That�s
part of the reason Harry won�t lead the pack out of the forest yet, because he
knows they�re terrify other people no matter how much in control they were.
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Rejoicing In Their Strength