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The Marriage of True Minds	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 55082 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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Chapter Thirty--Separate Ways

            "Ian! Wait up, would you?"

            Harry hoped his voice was casual enough to make Auror Ian Shelborn, walking ahead of him, pay attention but not think he was crazy. Shelborn turned around with a faint smile, dashing his hair out of his eyes. Grey eyes, Harry noted with an internal sigh. It seemed he was doomed to be attracted to them no matter what kind of face they appeared in.

            Things would have been a lot simpler if I could have just stayed attracted to brown eyes and nothing else.

            That was true, but it was also irrelevant, because it wasn't happening right now and he would mess up on this delicate talk if he thought too much about it. Harry took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "I have something to talk to you about," he said. "Could we use one of the interrogation rooms?"

            Shelborn--no, Harry really should think of him as Ian if they were going to be dating--raised an interested eyebrow. "Something private, hm?" he murmured, and gave Harry a smile that Harry was now allowed to notice was bright and casual and, well, attractive. "Sounds serious."

            Harry nodded, trying to ignore the way his mouth dried out, and turned to lead Ian into the room down the corridor. It was the same one he had talked with Ginny in. He also tried to ignore the symbolism, and hope that this time, the relationship discussed here would last.

            Do you want it to last, though, when you're on the verge of falling in love with Draco?

            Harry scowled at himself again. That was the point. He didn't know if he could ever make a go of the marriage with Draco because Draco wanted other things and was determined to have them. So he had to hope, at one and the same time, that the relationship with Ian would work and not work.

            You're allowed to just have ordinary hope, he scolded himself then, and turned around to smile at Ian. Not obsess over the future, not worry over whether your every movement is going to hurt Draco, but just hope that it works out and gives you a bit of fun to have, if you want.

            "What is it?" Ian braced himself against the wall beside the door. From what Harry remembered the other times he'd worked with him, it was the standard position he took during interrogations.

            Harry sighed. "You know I was dating Ginny Weasley for a while, before I married Malfoy?"

            "You still don't call him by his first name?" Ian grinned at him and shook a mocking finger. "Harry, Harry. That's not being very tender and loving to your spouse."

            "Yeah, I know," Harry said. "That's part of the point."

            Ian blinked, and a more complex expression came over his face, one that Harry hadn't seen before. He straightened up and gave Harry a long, slow glance with some appreciation in it. Harry told himself that it did not make him want to squirm, and instead tried to look back the same way.

            He must have done it well enough to convince Ian, because he nodded. "Yes?"

            "Malfoy--Draco--and I don't know whether to continue this marriage or not," Harry said. "He's courting a woman he hopes to marry, and--well. I don't want to be left behind, or mocked as someone who can't keep a lover in his bed. Not that we've been lovers," he added, because he thought Ian ought to know that and the man had never been a gossip. "But the public perception of me is stupid enough. I don't want to add to it."

            "You're asking me to pose as your lover?" Ian was blinking slowly, as if trying to absorb this information into whatever image of Harry he carried in his head.

            "No," Harry said. "Asking you to date me. If you want to," he added, because Ian had flushed.

            "Why me?" Ian asked a few minutes later, minutes that played on Harry's nerves like fingers on stretched harp strings.

            "Because you're handsome," Harry said, deciding that he might as well go with all the reasons. "Because you're pure-blood, and you understand how things like this marriage bond work, and the ways that people can slide around the edges. Probably better than I do. Draco's agreed to this," he added, because Ian still looked doubtful. "But he's not happy about it."

            Ian grimaced and flicked his fingers. "I'm not sure that I'd want Malfoy as an enemy."

            "He won't be," Harry said quietly. "Anymore than I'll threaten or attack the woman he's courting. But--I think--I need to know--you flirted with me a few times when I was still with Ginny, right?"

            A hint of Ian's normally constant smile returned. "Yes. I'm surprised you recognized it. Straightest of the straight and going to go on being straight until he dies, I thought that was you."

            "I think that it's different now," Harry said. "But I want to know for sure. I thought I was straight, that I only liked women. But now I find myself attracted to men, and I don't know why. I know that I like you, that I trust you, and that you would let me know if this got too weird for you. Would you like to go out with me?"

            Ian examined him attentively for long moments. Then he said, "If you really want this, and you're not doing it just to get back at Malfoy."

            Harry shook his head, more convinced than ever now that this had been the right move. He wouldn't have done it if he hadn't known someone like Ian, but he did, and he wanted to. "Whether I stay with Draco or not, whether he marries this woman or not, I have to live the rest of my life with myself," he said. "And I'd really like to know whether I can be with both men and women, or if I've convinced myself that I'm attracted to one man when I'm really not."

            "That one man being Malfoy?"

            Harry nodded. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt thick and salty, and his blood was beating a savage song in his ears.

            Ian considered him again, and this time the gaze was slower, the smile more prominent and more lazy. Harry felt his cheeks heating up and tried not to show how nervous he was, ducking his head a little to hide both his flush and the heartbeat at his throat.

            "Hey," Ian murmured, and stepped forwards, waiting until Harry looked at him again. "I wouldn't be embarrassed to date you. I've wanted a chance for years, but I never thought you'd look at me. There'd be pressure from the papers, sure, but I'm prepared for that, given how many times they've interviewed me about some potential suspect or a case that I solved. I know you can handle yourself in battle. And you're right. I'm handsome, you're handsome, we're all handsome together."

            Harry's high, nervous laugh was cut off as Ian lowered his head and pressed their lips gently together. Harry gasped, and Ian curled his tongue into Harry's mouth with a neat little flick, in and then out, as if he didn't want to overstay his welcome.

            The kiss didn't burn the way the one Harry had shared with Draco did. Nothing probably would, he thought. But he was gasping still, and he felt himself wanting more, the desire to clench his hands around Ian's shoulders and press down and in until he gave Harry that more growing the longer they stood there.

            Ian backed off, his eyes half-lidded, licking his lips as if Harry's taste was strong and would linger. "Nice," he murmured. "Very nice. Malfoy's a fool to let someone like you go." He looked a question at Harry, and Harry could recognize that it was one even through the daze of exhilaration and desire.

            Harry swallowed and shrugged. "He still wants a traditional pure-blood marriage," he said. "And I can hardly give him children."

            Ian snorted. "There are so many ways that one can get around that nowadays that I don't know why half the people I meet fuss about it. The child will still be of your blood, and magically conceived or not, what does it matter?"

            "It wouldn't, to me," Harry said. "But I'm not going to stay with someone to whom I'm only second-best." I'm not going to stay with someone who's not faithful to me, he almost said, but he was being unfaithful at the moment. "Loyalty" meant all sorts of complicated things now that it didn't use to mean.

            Ian smiled. "Good. Well, I'm more than happy to get to kiss you, and date you for a little while, and perhaps for a long while if it comes to that." He put a hand on Harry's back and steered him in expertly for another kiss. Harry didn't enjoy this one as much, since his muscles were stiff with hiding the flinch. Ian pulled away and gave him a quizzical glance. "Is something wrong?"

            "Scars, on my back," Harry said, glad for the out. "Another one of those cases that I'm not allowed to tell you about." The Head Auror and the Minister had both decided that the cases Harry and Ron worked that had to do with artifacts or traps Voldemort had left behind would remain secrets. It hadn't been meant to serve as a cover for the beast and the darkness, but Harry was glad that he had the excuse. Ian rolled his eyes, mouth drawing tight.

            "Sure," he said. "I know how that goes." He recovered his smile again a minute later, studying Harry with a level of interest that made his skin prickle and his hair stand up. It was--he wasn't used to people looking at him like that. Most people wanted to use him or get some advantage from sleeping with him, not just fuck him, and Harry had got good at reading the levels of nuance they put into their gazes. Ian wanted him, and that was it. "Well, that'll make it all the more exciting, since we'll have to have some creative positions in bed if you can't lie on your back."

            Harry's shudder this time wasn't from fear or the novelty of seeing someone look at him with desire. Ian's gentle laugh followed him all the way back to the office.

            And gave him the strength to explain the situation to Ron. That took most of the afternoon, not because Ron was stupid, but because he couldn't believe Harry really knew what he was doing or what he wanted from this situation. Even when Harry had straightened out all the complexities with him and admitted everything that wasn't someone else's secret, Ron tilted his chair back and shook his head in bewilderment.

            "No offense, mate," he said, "but I always took you for someone who would only marry once, only have kids with one person, and stay faithful to them for life."

            Harry snorted weakly. Hearing Ron put it like that gave him a better sense of how much had changed--and what he'd lost. "I know, Ron. That's not a surprise. I pictured myself as that person, too."

            "What changed?" Ron turned a troubled face to him and studied him as though he could find the answer written on Harry's flesh if he cut him open. "I know you'll say the marriage bond, but that wouldn't change the kind of person you are."

            Harry shuddered as he thought of what Hermione had said. "It can change my emotions. It can change the degree of closeness I feel to the Malfoys, or whatever other family I would have married into if someone else had used it. Why not my ideals or what I'm willing to accept in my life?"

            "Because I hate it."

            Harry started and looked up. Ron was scowling, his fists jammed into the desk. He nodded vigorously when he caught Harry's eye.

            "I want you to have free choice, mate," he said. "I want you to have what you want. I hate to see you reduced to casually dating people just because Malfoy can't make up his bloody mind to let you out of this."

            Harry sighed and shook his head. "Not his fault. It's his father who has the power to set up the forced marriage bond, not him, or we would have been free of it the instant it happened. Or it never would have happened," he had to add, because he couldn't picture the Draco he'd married deciding to use that particular gift, even if he became extremely drunk and one of his friends suggested it.

            That made Harry pause, then, and wonder whether he really was the only one the marriage bond had changed. Draco had been haughty at first, disbelieving, mocking Harry for not knowing the way that pure-bloods were expected to behave in such situations. He had accepted the bond more easily from the beginning than Harry had, so his changes had been hidden, but...

            That only means that we have to make the ritual work. Draco deserves to have what he chooses, too. Once the bond is gone, then we'll be able to see more clearly what that is and what was only the bond making him choose things that would continue it and support the family.

            "Harry!" Ron snapped his fingers in front of his eyes. Harry started and nearly fell off his perch on the desk. "You do that a lot lately," Ron complained. "Go off into your head and stop paying attention to what's around you."

            Harry smiled wryly at him. "Yeah, I know," he said. "Draco's complained of it, too." Then he paused to enjoy the small spectacle of Ron spluttering because he shared some traits with a Malfoy.

            "Is it--what you went through?" Ron asked, lowering his voice as if the beast might burst through a wall at being mentioned.

            Harry appreciated the sentiment, actually. It was the way that he tended to feel about the beast himself. "Some of it, but not the whole thing," he said. "My life's changed, and it keeps changing. I keep trying to put it in order, but meanwhile, the next life-changing thing is trying to catch my attention."

            Ron nodded in sympathy. "As long as you know what you're doing, mate, and you get free or date two people or end up in an orgy if that's what you want," he said. "We should get back to talking about the Ness case."

            Harry blew out his breath and nodded. "Yeah, we should," he said. He did still want to catch the wizards responsible for the three months of hell he'd endured and the scars on his back, and he experienced a stabbing moment of dismay that he'd thought of them as less important than the marriage and the shit that surrounded it.

            But maybe that's what I need right now. Maybe that's healthy. I'm going on about the business of living, not cowering in a corner of my room and reliving the nightmares over and over the way I was that first month.

            He shook the thoughts off with the ease of long practice and picked the file up from Ron's desk. "What do we have?"

*

            Condition: To bear no more than three children and no less than two into the marriage.

            Draco raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair. He was studying the list of conditions to their marriage and amendments to his first terms that Laura had sent him. He had to admit that she was being more creative and argumentative than he had expected, and that meant she was keeping his interest.

            The way that Harry does.

            Draco rolled his eyes at himself and moved on down the list. At least this part was different from his relationship with Harry: there was no way that he would be talking to Draco about how many children he should bear.

            Reasoning: you say that you want only one child, so as to leave the line of Malfoy inheritance clear. I have observed the children raised as only heirs in the branches of my family, and they are inevitably the most arrogant and self-satisfied ones. Besides, if they die, the family is left floundering, with aged parents most often too lost in grief or too old to try for the task of having or adopting another child.

            Two children will both give us an extra heir and teach our children that they are not the only important ones in our lives. They will learn the virtues of cooperation and sharing early on. They will have to negotiate, challenge, answer challenges, and fight instead of growing up spoiled by utter luxury. Their personalities will be formed in new ways and take new turns that they would not if they were only meeting challenges, or challengers, later in life.

            No more than three children are required to teach these lessons, and more than three would interfere in my business.

            Draco closed his eyes and tapped a finger against his teeth. He could argue against Laura's points, he thought. He had not grown up spoiled by utter luxury because he was his parents' only child.

            Of course, it had taken the war to break him of the other spoiling that had resulted, and he knew that there were times he had longed for siblings. Which was worse, to want them and be deprived of them, or to have them and wish they would go away? Draco would not want either fate for his children.

            If he and Harry had children, either through other women or adopted children sealed into the Malfoy family by magic...

            Draco sighed irritably. He refused to consider the prospect seriously when Harry might not stay with him. He wanted someone who actually wanted to be part of the family, not someone who kicked against that yoke with all the strength in him.

            He considered the letter that he would write, reaching for his ink and parchment in the meantime. He would have to respond to Laura's points with ones as calm and reasoned in tone, and that meant his mindset should be focused only on her and what she offered to the family.

            Impossible.

            Draco sighed again and rose from the chair. Yes, it was impossible at the moment. He would take a turn in the gardens, and remember the kiss that he and Harry had shared yesterday, and perhaps when he returned inside he would be in a better mood.

            He opened his door, and paused. Something, some unusual presence or absence of noise, warned him about what was waiting for him before he took a single step.

            "Hello, Lucius," he said neutrally. His father's whistling breath came from the other side of the door. "What did you hope to achieve by lurking here and waiting for me to emerge?" Draco continued, opening the door and studying his father's face. Lucius stood to one side where he would not easily be seen, and while he had no weapon openly held in his hand, Draco knew that that sometimes meant next to nothing, with Lucius. "Tell me what you want, and if it is within my power and reasonable for you to demand, I'll give it to you. Otherwise, leave."

            "Draco," Lucius said. "I have come to ask you three questions. Your answers to them will determine what I do next."

            Draco tried to still the trembling flutter of fear in his stomach. For years, Lucius had commanded him and ordered his life in different ways. That didn't mean that Draco absolutely had to listen to him when he used that tone, but it meant that he was struggling against the force of long habit when he tried not to.

            "Why should I answer any of your questions?" he asked, trying for the same deceptive mildness that had come so easily to him just a minute ago. "There have been certain disagreements between us that make honest speech, and trust, impossible."

            Lucius ignored him, looking like the stern patriarch and judge that Draco remembered presiding over his childhood. How much of that had been illusion and how much reality, he didn't know if he would ever realize. It was much easier to identify the gaps that Lucius had deliberately left in his reading and education than to locate the times that he had been lying to his son through appearances. "The first question," he said. "Have you given up on all chances of having a traditional marriage?"

            "What do you mean by that?" Draco asked. "A marriage where I am compatible with my spouse and can strengthen the family? Or a marriage that obeys the customs and expectations of our peers?"

            "I mean it in all the ways that it is possible to mean it," Lucius said, and then gave Draco one of those intense, hard-to-combat looks.

            Draco gritted his teeth against the temptation to cower or answer honestly, and shook his head. "Not for me, Lucius. I know that it means more than one thing now, and I also know that there is more than one way to have children."

            Lucius did nothing more than blink before he moved on. "The second question. Do you believe that Potter contributes more to this family than he takes away?"

            "Harry--remember that you took his surname yourself--hardly takes anything from us," Draco said. "He sleeps in his rooms, but does nothing else in them, and acts as if our food is hardly good enough." He thought he kept the bitterness out of his voice, but Lucius still smiled as if he had scored a victory.

            "Your time, your attention," Lucius murmured. "He takes those. Are they not valuable?"

            Draco smiled. "Of course they are. Too valuable to waste on you." He started to step around his former father, but Lucius matched him, step for step, and one thing Draco would not allow to happen was any opponent to think that he would get flustered or upset around him. He halted and yawned in Lucius's face. His cheek twitched, but he controlled himself for the most part.

            "The third question," Lucius said. "Do you think it matters that you are falling in love with Potter, or can you find someone else to feel lust and appreciation for?"

            Draco blinked at him. "If you think I am falling in love with Harry," he said, "then it would be news to him. And me."

            Lucius nodded. His face had a faint, subtle glow, as though he'd discovered a way that he could redeem himself and get back into the good graces of the family. Draco could think of no other reason for him to look like that. But he knew, if Lucius did not, that nothing would make him change his mind.

            "You have reminded me," Lucius said, "that doing something for the good of the family means doing something for the good of all Malfoys, not for one member of them. It was a valuable lesson. Thank you, son." He gave a little bow to Draco and turned away with a small nod, as though he assumed that Draco would let it go at that.

            But Draco realized that he had to clench his teeth and let it go, unless he wanted to demean himself and the family by scrambling after someone exiled from it. He nodded coldly to the air where Lucius had stood and strode out to the gardens.

            Well, he had a distraction from the problem of Harry, though it did not clear his mind or settle his emotions so he could write back to Laura in the way he had hoped the gardens might.

*

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The Marriage of True Minds