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The Wages of Going On	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 43959 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

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Chapter Thirty—Severance
            How is Draco recovering?
            Harry didn’t turn to face Snape, and he didn’t send a sharp snap down the bond or a reminder that Snape could have asked Malfoy that himself, before he succumbed to the Pain-Killing Draught and went to sleep. He smoothed a hand down Malfoy’s forehead instead, narrowly observing him. He did seem as if he was in the midst of a mostly natural sleep, and Harry didn’t know that he wasn’t. Just because his eyes darted back and forth faster than they would have in a normal dream—
            Well?
            Harry turned and glanced over his shoulder. “Remember that ball of emotion I tossed, Snape? Do you really want to repeat that?”
            Snape hesitated, and Harry used the moment to check once more on Malfoy’s ribs. They had been broken, but although Harry was no Healer and couldn’t fix them completely, he thought he had reduced the breaks to fractures. The damage done to Malfoy’s psyche would take longer to heal, of course, but at least Harry had reduced the aching in his jaw and his black eyes before he went to sleep.
            “Perhaps we need to make sure that Mr. Nelson is secure,” said Snape from behind him.
            Harry turned around and nodded, slowly. That would give them something to do that would be active, and get them out of Malfoy’s bedroom for the time being. Harry had done all he could for Malfoy before Snape gave him the potions. What he needed now was sleep.
            And what Snape and Harry needed was discussion.
            How optimistically you frame it, Snape said, as he turned around and led the way to the top of the staircase. Harry was perfectly happy to let him lead. He had only come so far into the Manor following Malfoy’s directions. You presume that we will discuss things and not argue.
            I think we’re a little past that now, Harry said, and continued to follow Snape, noticing the tiniest hesitation in the step that led him to the top of the stairs.
            True, Snape said at last, and the concession made Harry smile at his back.
            This does not mean we are best friends, Snape added, as if he was afraid they had an audience and someone might think he was showing the tiniest bit of respect or consideration for Harry. It does not mean that I do not want to brew the potion and sever the bond as soon as possible.
            I know, Harry said, and switched to speaking aloud. Technically, they had no audience for that, either, although Harry suspected they might find Nelson awake if he hadn’t fled. He had managed to wake up from the Draught of Living Death and alert the Lestranges somehow, but he didn’t seem to have been able to get out past the Manor’s wards. “I think ending the bond would be the best thing for all of us. It doesn’t have anything to offer us.”
            Snape snorted, and they reached the bottom of the stairs and proceeded in silence, both physical and mental, for a few moments before he spoke again. “No. The power Draco once thought it could offer us was a delusion.”
            “Yes,” Harry said, temperately. He really could speak temperately, he told himself. And Snape hadn’t exploded yet, so he was doing well enough.
            “You trust my brewing skills now.” Snape paused with one hand on a door that Harry thought looked familiar. It took him longer to place than it should have. The door to the dungeons—well, the cellars, now, but Harry would always have good reason to think of them by the harsher term.
            “Yes,” Harry repeated, and when Snape opened his mouth again, shook his head and tapped the door with a closed fist. “Nelson first, then discussion.”
            Snape shut his mouth and sighed, muttered, “You persist in calling it by an optimistic name,” and opened the cellar door. He paused to perform an enchantment Harry didn’t recognize at first, because Snape used wand movements he had never seen before. But when the silvery net of light sprang into being at the head of the stairs, Harry nodded approval.
            “Good Hangman’s Net,” he praised, and slipped by Snape to make sure that he was in front of him as they descended the stairs.
            “I am a competent wizard, Potter,” Snape said, and reached out to rap his wand against Harry’s shoulder. “One of the ways that I am so is that I can guard myself. Would you mind moving?”
            “Yes,” Harry said, and had to grin a little at the way the bond stirred in the back of his mind when he said that. “And yes, I know you’re a competent wizard. But you aren’t a trained Auror, and Nelson is. I think that someone who also is should face him.”
            That makes sense, said Snape in the back of his head.
            Harry had the impression that turning to confront Snape would make either the peace offering or Snape’s face snap like dry wood, so he continued treading slowly down the stairs. His wand glowed in front of him, using a spell that would light the way for him and Snape but remain dark to the eyes of anyone who wanted to hurt them.
            I find myself curious where you learned to recognize a Hangman’s Net. Not to mention all the other Dark spells that you surely did not learn in Auror training.
            Harry sighed a little, but it was true that they didn’t want to speak aloud if Nelson had escaped the potion somehow and was running around Malfoy Manor’s dungeons, and he ought to be able to concentrate on a fight and the bond at once. A lot of self-study, he said, pausing at the bottom of the stairs and looking around. No one seemed to have disturbed the ranks of motionless bodies, but then again, Harry had forgotten exactly how many Aurors had been here before. And some spells that did get mentioned in Auror training, and that we were encouraged, discreetly, to become familiar with.
            Snape remained quiet behind him, moving with his motions. Harry suspected the bond helped with that, or maybe Snape wanted to show off how competent he was.
            Snape’s mood darkened, clouds rolling in from the mental horizon, and Harry said, Fine. You’re doing well for someone with no training.
            I have training in the mind arts and on battlefields that you have no idea existed, Snape began.
            And it really might have gone downhill from there, except that Nelson had a wand, and he was lurking in a corner, and Harry saw him a second before he tried to hit them both with a Leg-Cutting Curse.
*
            Potter in battle was a sight to behold.
            Severus had already admitted that much, and he honestly didn’t see why he needed another lesson in the fact, or another chance to admit it. He had seen what Potter had done against the Nundu, and against the Aurors who had captured him when Severus and Draco arrived at his side to intervene. And he had seen him refrain from hurting the Lestranges when they had Stunned them both and brought them back to the Manor. Potter had thought Draco should have the biggest say in what to do with them, but Draco wanted to put off the decision until he felt better.
            Potter had the self-control necessary to listen to Draco and not insist that they kill the Lestranges right away. Severus did not know if he would have, if Draco had not touched his mind through the bond and begged him to leave it. He wanted to be there at the execution, but he honestly didn’t feel up to it at the moment. He wanted to hate them, and he’d feared them too much.
            But now Potter was leaping across the cellars, dodging Nelson’s spells while countering with charms of his own that Severus recognized. Potter was building a wall of magic, herding Nelson into a corner where he could be more easily captured.
            Severus, this time, understood better what his own soul was about, and did not mean to be left out of this battle.
            “Fatisco scipionem,” Severus said, clearly, partially because this was the kind of spell that would have more strength when cast aloud, but also because he wished Potter to hear him, and admire.
            The spell soared straight and true from his own wand, passing around and under the charms that Potter was setting to contain Nelson; it burrowed into the wand in Nelson’s hand and cracked it straight down the middle, from one end to the other, with a noise so sudden and sharp that Nelson screamed. When he dropped the wand, Severus saw that the force of the magic had broken his wrist as well.
            Perhaps that had been a display of rather more power than he’d meant. He hadn’t used the Wand-Cracking Charm in a long time, and hadn’t been sure that it would work nonverbally, but it would have.
            Of course it would have. I was a fool to doubt myself.
            Potter, because he was a man of more sense than Severus had been accustomed to consider him, Stunned Nelson before he turned around to face Severus. Because he was also a man of slightly more sadism than Severus had been accustomed to consider him, he did it in a way that made sure Nelson fell on his broken wrist when he collapsed.
            Then Potter looked at Severus.
            There was a keen, wolfish kind of admiration in his face—and coming down the bond, although the emotion was so different from the ones Severus tended to associate with Potter that he had not realized what it was until he saw Potter’s face. He edged a little closer to Snape, as though wanting to make sure that he wouldn’t run away.
            “Can you teach me that?” Potter demanded. “I never even heard of that spell.”
            “It is another one I invented,” Severus said, and did not let himself bask in the admiration. It was for his casting skills and no more—not his years of bitterness and sacrifice. “I am surprised you did not run across it, when you had my book.”
            “I didn’t.” Potter seemed to ignore the allusion to the book entirely, only avidly studying Severus. “What’s the incantation?”
            “The one you heard me use,” Severus said, and ignored Potter’s bristle to nod to Nelson. “Perhaps you should bring him upstairs? He was dangerous enough to acquire a wand. I think we will want to keep him under guard, along with the Lestranges, until Draco wakes, and then we can decide what to do with them as a—team.” He grimaced, but he’d arrived at the end of the sentence before he thought about how he would describe them, and then that word was the one at the tip of his tongue.
            “Yes,” said Potter, and turned to gather up Nelson. He lifted him in the air with Levicorpus, and dragged him towards the stairs without bothering to avoid banging his head into things.
            Severus suspected he knew, then, what Potter would advise them doing with both the Lestranges and Nelson. Whether Severus would support it, or think it advisable for them to do, was another thing.
            But then, he had decided on that when he had believed Potter was a by-the-rules Auror who would report them for the mere suggestion of using Dark magic on a helpless wizard.
            Potter as someone who knew Dark spells and would probably advocate killing their enemies—Potter who wanted to know spells that would break another wizard’s wand and necessitate him training all over again with a different one, if he survived—was a different case altogether.
            Thoughtfully, Severus followed Potter and the bouncing Nelson up the stairs.
*
            Draco blinked, stretched, and then remembered the Lestranges and the Nundu and the rest of it. He sat up, swearing loudly.
            “They’re still alive. We’ve kept them for you to have a part in the decision, just like you requested.”
            Draco turned towards the door, blinking rapidly. Potter had come in with a floating tray that bore what looked like several crystal dishes of breakfast, and behind him was Severus, frowning in a way that Draco knew was meant to make their joint presence look like a coincidence.
            How did you know I was hungry? he asked, and then flushed a little as Potter turned a slow glance on him. Right.
            The bond was going to go away soon, but it had been in force for long enough that Draco really should have remembered it.
            I’m not interested in your little self-blaming lifestyle, Potter said, and set the tray down on the table beside Draco’s bed. And neither is Snape. We caught Nelson. He was free in the cellars, and he’d managed to Summon his wand, or find one, but he couldn’t get through the wards. Snape was the one who cracked his wand.
            Draco glanced at Severus. He was examining his fingernails in an elaborate manner, as if he’d heard nothing of what Potter said, although Draco recognized that look and knew it meant he was aware of every word.
            Things seem more peaceful between you, Draco said, reaching for the tray, trying to send the message to Severus alone as much as possible.
            Severus raised his head and gave Draco a single steady glance that made him flush, then turned away and reached out for the carafe of water bobbing behind Potter. “I find that speaking mentally makes me tired,” Severus announced. “I would enjoy it if we were to converse aloud as much as possible.”
            “All right,” said Potter, without turning a hair or showing any sign of being put out. Draco wasn’t sure if that was true, or he just knew how to manipulate the mental part of the bond better than they did—he was in charge of it, after all—and could conceal it. Potter took a seat on the straight-backed wooden chair that stood in a corner of the room, in front of Draco’s desk. “So. We need to decide what to do about the Lestranges and Nelson and those Aurors in the cellars.”
            “Not the Nundu?” Draco frowned as he dug into his kippers. He was glad that his own house-elves had had the preparing of them. They were the only ones who could prepare them the way Draco liked them. “I thought you said that you’d kept it for me to have a part in deciding what to do with it, too.”
            Potter snorted. “I told you, I’m going to kill it. But I thought you might like to watch.”
            Draco stared at him. “You don’t want to…” Then he trailed off, as he tried to think of the other options for handling a dangerous magical creature, and whether they would be any better.
            Potter’s eyes glittered. “Exactly. The only people who would have the magic to take charge of it would all be Dark wizards themselves, and I don’t think we can actually advertise for it. Not to mention that the Lestranges probably wouldn’t want to tell us what those spells were.”
            “Severus could read it out of their heads.” Draco spoke through a full mouth, but he didn’t think that was why Severus cast him a look of irritation.
            “I would prefer to restrict my contact with any Lestrange mind as much as possible.” Severus was frowning at Draco as if he ought to have known that already.
            Draco shrugged with one shoulder, refusing to be sorry. “Fine. We execute the Nundu. What are we going to do about the Lestranges?”
            “I don’t feel comfortable letting them free,” said Potter, leaning forwards as if he thought he’d have a hostile audience to convince. “Or turning them over to the Aurors, now that we have evidence of how deep corruption runs in that Department. They have contacts there. They’d probably just get away again.”
            “Then that leaves only one option that I can see,” Draco said, and licked his fork to get the last bits of kipper off. He merrily ignored the disgusted way that Severus looked at him. Severus could be disgusted all he liked. He wasn’t the one who had been kidnapped and barely rescued in time. Draco deserved all the luxury that he could command. “We execute them.”
            “That’s what I was thinking.”
            Severus spoke the words, and that wasn’t a surprise, given both the darkness Draco could feel from him in the back of his mind and what he knew of Severus’s eminently practical behavior among the Death Eaters. But he was surprised when he realized that Potter had spoken the same words at the same time.
            Potter smiled slightly, perhaps because both Severus and Draco were gaping at him and he enjoyed that. “Did you think I would want to leave them alive because I’m a Gryffindor and believe in fair play?” He twirled his wand through his fingers. “I was the one who said we couldn’t bring them in to the Aurors.”
            “I thought you would suggest another Ministry Department,” Draco said, swallowing. He wondered if he could actually watch Potter or Severus slaughter the Lestranges. He did want them dead, but somehow knowing it would be at Potter’s wand, that he might use the same curse he had used to kill the Aurors…
            I would not use the same curse. It’s too unreliable. I couldn’t even tell at first how many it had killed and how many it just mutilated.
            Draco jerked his head down in a nod, and then flicked his eyes at Severus. They had agreed to speak aloud, and he still wasn’t sure whether someone could speak privately to just one person in the bond, the way he thought Potter had intended to do to him.
            Potter turned around with a calm and exquisitely bored face. “I wouldn’t use that particular Pendulum Curse,” he said. “It’s too unreliable, and I’m not interested in torturing the Lestranges. I want them dead.”
            For some reason, Severus was watching Potter with a wariness that Draco would have thought he’d show mostly to enemies at the moment. “The depth of rage that I can feel through the bond made me assume torture was on the agenda.”
            “No,” said Potter. “What I want is to make them dead. To ensure that none of their ghosts return to the world, and that they don’t have any relatives who could find out why they died and track us down, and that their artifacts don’t fall into the hands of someone who could cause mischief.”
            Draco felt a trickle like cold water down his back, but he didn’t understand what had made Severus’s eyes widen. “You are talking of a Banishing Curse,” he said, his voice thick.
            “Yes,” said Potter. “I want to banish all trace of them from the world—the physical world, and the wizarding world. I want to destroy them.” He looked at Draco.
            Draco shook his head. “I’ve heard of a Banishing Curse before, but only to make a ghost retreat from a place and stop haunting it, or to make someone forget about their most potent memories. I don’t know what you mean when you talk about it.”
            “The kind of Banishing Curse that gets rid of memories should not be called that,” said Severus, but his sneer was half-hearted, which told Draco how affected he was even more than the bond did. “The name is inaccurate.”
            “Whatever, Snape,” Potter said, and looked at Draco. “A Banishing Curse removes every trace of a person from the physical world. Their wands, their magic, their bodies, their bloodline, their souls, all of it. Technically, there could still be wizards related to them alive, but they won’t have that part of their bloodline anymore, or any abilities that they might have inherited from that part of the family. And people will still have their memories of them, but they won’t care enough about those memories to act on them. They won’t want to take revenge even if they find out what we did to the Lestranges.”
            Draco felt a bit sick, and said the first thing that came into his head. “But doesn’t that mean that we won’t care about the pain they inflicted on us anymore, either? We might let those Aurors we captured go the minute we complete that spell.”
            Potter paused, then shook his head. “No. We’ll be done with the memory of them, not other people. We’ll stop caring as much about the pain they inflicted on us.” He leaned forwards. “It’s the perfect revenge. They wanted to change our lives when they attacked us. We’re taking the ability to do that away from them. A permanent revenge.” His eyes glittered with a savage light. “And I’m going to make sure to tell them that, when we use the spell against them.”
            “You’re for this?” Draco turned to Severus. It sounded as though Severus was familiar with the spell, and would know the consequences.
            “The curse was designed by wizards who wanted revenge,” Severus said slowly. “That is why it works the way that Potter speaks of, instead of erasing memories from the victims’ minds, because the wizards who designed it wanted to keep the memory of their triumph. But it is extremely Dark, and powerful, and hard to cast. Normally, one needs a ritual and a special potion.” He looked at Potter. “We already have a special potion brewing. I would not want to sacrifice more time and expensive ingredients for the sake of the Lestranges.”
            Potter gave Severus a smile that seemed to have everything to do with teeth and not much with common sense. “Normally, yes, you’d need that. But the ritual that’s most common for putting the spell together requires three people working in concert.”
            “People who trust each other,” Severus said. His voice was a bit hoarse.
            “Or people who have a magical substitute for trust,” Potter said. “Believe me, some of the research that I was doing on modified breaking rituals to try and find a way to snap our bond, back when I thought that was the way to do it? It mentioned this. I thought there might be a way that we could Banish our bond at first. No such luck. But for this, it’s perfect.”
            Draco swallowed again. There was something dangerously appealing about the glint in Potter’s eyes when he spoke that way. Draco wondered if the man in front of him had been inside Potter all along, or if he had been brought into being by the bond and the botched ritual.
            Both, I suspect, said Potter directly to him, and glanced at Draco. “What do you say? Do you want to do this?”
            Draco reached down and ran a hand along his own side, where the broken ribs had been. He still remembered the way the Lestranges had treated him, like rubbish.
            To be free of that fear forever, and to be free of the fear that someone would come seeking vengeance for the Lestrange brothers, would mean a great deal to him.
            “I want to do it,” he said, and watched the graceful, collected way that Potter turned to face Severus.
            The contest of their wills seemed to take a long time, although Draco knew intellectually that it was mere breaths. Then Severus grunted and waved a hand.
            “Yes, I am persuaded,” he said. “I would rather remove all trace of them from the world than leave something existing.”
            Potter grinned, and stood up. “Then let’s go destroy those bastards.”
*
SP777: Harry is just so tired of everything that he’s gotten past some of his own preconceptions of things.
Abeham: Thank you! I write without an outline, and this is one of those stories where that was really challenging for me; I didn’t know when the breakthrough was going to come, either. I still don’t know the ending. But at least it’s not going to end in hatred and bitterness the way it would have if I had tried to tie everything up around Chapter 20. They’ll destroy the Lestranges, and break the bond, and then…we’ll see what happens next.
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The Wages of Going On