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The Same Species As Shakespeare	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16108 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter Thirty-Two�No
Other Medicine But Only Hope

�� Harry woke
to find Draco watching him with shadowed eyes.

�� That might
be for any number of reasons, Harry thought, staring calmly back at Draco in
the moment before he showed he was awake. It could be because Draco wanted to
suggest having full-on sex but didn�t know how to, given what he had done to
Harry last time they did. He might wonder if Harry was ever going to forgive
him for going to the papers, and not know how to ask that as well. One of his
hands crept out as if he would touch Harry�s thigh and then halted; was he
afraid of looking weak by clutching Harry too close as they slept?

�� Harry knew
only one thing for certain. He wouldn�t find out by lying here.

�� He yawned,
letting the motion of his jaws squeeze his eyes shut, and stretched his arms
above his head. When he looked again, Draco�s face was perfectly normal. Harry
still had trouble seeing what was behind the mask when Draco was concentrating on keeping him out, but he
noticed the evidence of edges and lines, which was more than he�d ever done
before. In this case, he could see the tightness around Draco�s eyes and hear
the slight grinding noise that meant he was working his teeth against one
another.

�� Harry,� he
said, and paused.

�� Pleased
that he was going to tell the truth for once without Harry�s having to drag it
out of him, Harry smiled and looked directly at him. �Good morning,� he said.
�Yes?�

�� Draco
stopped grinding his teeth, but from the way his eyes dipped and flashed away,
that was because he was afraid Harry would hear it. �Nothing,� he said. �Except
that I have a question to ask you, and I want you to answer honestly.�

�� Harry felt
a flash of irritation. Yes, his physical relationship with Draco was much better
than it had been, and if Harry hadn�t completely forgiven him for going to the
papers, that was news to him. But life with Draco was not perfect. He insisted
that Harry carry far more of the emotional freight when they interacted. Perhaps
he felt that his multiple confessions in one day had been enough, but Harry did
wish they would move towards sharing that burden�since Draco thought of it as
one�more equally.

�� Since it
was unlikely to happen at the moment, he said, �All right,� and laid his head
back against the pillow, waiting. Draco�s arm had extended behind him to
provide a comfortable resting place, but he thought he�d avoid that at the
moment. And Draco was unlikely to think he was avoiding it on purpose, because
he didn�t have that high an opinion of Harry�s subtlety.

�� Sometimes I think Hermione�s right, and
we�re going to tear each other apart.

�� What was
the most extreme action you took when you were stalking me?� Draco asked. His
eyes were wide and dark.

�� Harry
blinked. Well, all right, then. He
had expected Draco to ask how he felt about having his hands bound again,
since, from the way Draco liked to hold his wrists against the bed, it was one
of Harry�s kinks he shared. But Harry was just as glad to answer a question he
had much simpler feelings on.

�� I stood
outside your office for hours each day,� he said. �I spied on your meetings
with clients, and I spied on you in private, so I could study the different
ways you acted. And I saved�well, lots of newspaper clippings of you.� He
shrugged. �I thought at the time that it was the closest I�d ever come to you.�

�� Newspaper
clippings,� said Draco, and rolled over to stare at the ceiling. �Newspaper clippings,� he repeated
loudly, as though he were talking to someone else. Harry looked around the
room, but didn�t see Lucius, or Snape, or even a house-elf.

�� He did hear
what sounded like a bitter snort, which made him wonder if Snape possessed an
Invisibility Cloak. But even if he did, Harry couldn�t see him enjoying any
late-night spying he did on them. Probably, he had told Draco that Harry wasn�t
good for him because of his obsession, and Draco was trying to make the point
that newspaper clippings were not as bad as they could have been.

�� Draco
rolled back to him and extended his hand to Harry, his face solemn but his eyes
no longer as shadowed. �Come to breakfast?�

�� Of
course.� Harry smiled at him, glad that his answer had contented Draco for
whatever reason. He liked being able
to please and help Draco. �Just let me shower first.�

*

�� Maybe I don�t have to tell him.

�� Draco held
on to that hope even as he watched Harry luxuriating in the breakfast that the
house-elves had made for them. It wasn�t as good as the food at Hogwarts, or
even at some of the top-level restaurants in Diagon Alley; the house-elves had
a tendency to be sloppy in recent years, with Lucius so isolated and Draco gone
from the house much of the time on business for his clients and Severus not
caring what he ate. Draco made a mental note to remedy that. This would be a
hell of a time for Harry to leave him because the food was poor, of all things.

�� He collected newspaper clippings of me. He
was obsessed with my appearance and with stories about me, the same way I was
about him. What I did was worse, but not that much worse. There�s really no reason that Mother should want me to tell
him. And anyway, she�s not even my mother, but only a portrait reflection of
her. Everyone knows that portraits don�t understand living people that well.

�� Harry
caught his eye and smiled at him. Draco smiled and toasted him with his glass
of strawberry juice. At least the house-elves had remembered that he enjoyed
more juices than simply orange and pumpkin.

�� What will you
do today?� Harry asked, around a mouthful of toast slathered with butter. Draco
avoided grimacing at his bad manners by studying his own plate intently for a
moment. He still had a few morsels of bacon left. He would have to remember to
take them by the Owlery.

�� I�ve
neglected the Keller house long enough,� Draco said. �I�ll travel to the site
and set up the illusion again, then look at it in different lights and decide
what needs to be changed.� He glanced up, about to ask whether Harry would
prefer to lunch at the site or return to the Manor, and was just in time to
catch a strange grimace on Harry�s face. He paused. �What�s wrong?�

�� Harry
swallowed and shook his head. �Nothing. I�ll come with you, of course. The
imposter would probably take the chance to attack you the minute you get
outside the wards.�

�� Or at any
time.� Draco reached across the table and laid a hand on his arm. �Remember,
the wards didn�t stop him before.�

�� No.� For a
moment, Harry�s eyes took on a flat, glazed sheen, as if he were seeing the
moment when the imposter had snatched Draco from his bed. Though Draco hadn�t
described it in any detail, Harry had told Draco he didn�t need a description. Then
he snapped out of the mood and repeated, �Of course I�ll come with you.�

�� Draco sat
back in his chair, eyeing Harry curiously. At times, he doubted he would ever
actually understand Harry; there seemed to be a new, unknown factor to cope
with every time he was confident that he grasped the essentials.

�� Before he
could ask another question to try and gently shake the answer loose, a cool
voice spoke from the doorway. �Draco. A moment of your time.�

�� Draco
stared in shock. Lucius stood there, and there was a life and glittering light
in his eyes that Draco had never seen since�well, at least since Narcissa was
alive. Draco darted a glance at Harry, but he was blinking, apparently as
surprised at the change as Draco was.

�� Draco wasn�t
about to give away too much surprise. That would be to show weakness in front
of a potential enemy. He rose to his feet, bowed a bit, said, �Of course,
Father,� and moved after Lucius into the anteroom opposite to the dining room.

�� The worried
gaze he could feel Harry fixing on his back warmed him all through. Yes, it was
worth committing any crime to hang on to Harry, and he knew he would lose him
in moments if he told him the truth about the relics room.

*

�� Potter.�

�� Harry
glanced up, and stared. Snape stood behind him with his arms folded and frown
lines so tight around his eyes that Harry automatically looked at the table,
scanning for the remains of the potion he had ruined, before he remembered that
he didn�t need to worry about ridiculous punishments from Snape ever again.

�� He did his
best to assume a cool expression. Then he realized, from his own thoughts as
much as the scornful arch of Snape�s eyebrow, that he would never do it well
enough to rival someone like Snape, so he settled for a harsh glare instead. �Exactly
what do you want?� he snarled.

�� To know
what you intend to do with Draco.� Snape examined the nails on his right hand.
Looking for traces of blood, probably, Harry thought, so he would know what the
new stains looked like when he tried to pluck out Harry�s eyes.

�� Guard him until
the imposter is captured,� Harry said firmly. �Then go back to my own flat, but
still visit him as often as I can. Gradually work out the problems that still
lie between us. Live happily ever after.�

�� A very
Gryffindor plan.� Snape studied him the way he might a mouse that had been
delivered still squirming.

�� I do wish
you�d give over the entire business about Gryffindors and Slytherins,� Harry
muttered, turning back to his breakfast. He still had eggs he hadn�t yet
enjoyed, and he saw no reason to let Snape ruin his pleasure in them. Snape�s
presence wasn�t as important as they were. �Perfectly ridiculous, you know. We�re
not in Hogwarts anymore.�

�� It still
guides our lives,� Snape replied. �It is still a division between two kinds of
people that the simplest may understand.� His voice prickled with something
Harry might have called laughter, had he considered that Snape cold laugh.

�� Yeah,
yeah,� Harry said, and yawned, and ate his eggs. Snape stood there staring at
his back. Harry let him. He half-wondered when Snape would get bored and go
back to his foul smells and gelatinous explosions.

�� A hand
slapped down on the table next to him, making him choke. As he hastily took up
his cup of tea and swallowed some to ease the bruised feeling in his throat, he
saw that Snape�s hand was actually impeccable. Of course, mixing traces of old
potions ingredients into new ones probably wasn�t the best idea. Harry felt
proud of himself for remembering that salient tidbit from long-ago lessons.

�� Your insouciance
is unappreciated, Potter.� Snape�s voice had descended into a hiss. �I have
spent much time training Draco and making him into the kind of student my
labors require. I will not see that undone by your actions.�

�� Harry
snorted. �I have no intention of keeping him from brewing. If he�d ever rather
spend the night in the lab than having passionate sex with me, he only has to
say so.�

�� As he had
hoped would happen, Snape looked faintly green, but he didn�t walk away. Damn. Harry sipped his tea again and
kept his expression as politely neutral as he might. I don�t even know what he wants. If this is the speech where he tells
me he�ll kill me if I hurt Draco, he could have made some threat about chopping
me up into ingredients that would give me nightmares for a week.

�� His obsession
with you has always been his great weakness,� Snape said abruptly. �It leads to
complacency with his faults and a refusal to confront those aspects of himself
that most need healing and tending.�

�� Harry
arched an eyebrow as best he could. �Obviously, I don�t agree.�

�� Snape went
on speaking as if he hadn�t heard what Harry said. �He needed to learn to know
himself. And now that he has a chance, you would deprive him of it.�

�� Harry
blinked. �Why would my presence keep him from knowing himself?�

�� Snape shook
his head and leaned nearer, to the point that Harry wanted to retreat before the
hook of his nose. He sat in his chair, however, and tried to look bored, because
he had given up on showing Snape that he was afraid.

�� You are a
true idiot,� Snape whispered. �He has a chance to know himself better now that
you have become part of his life. If you are wise, you will press that chance,
and force him to face his faults. Instead, you encourage and coddle him. You
treat him too gently. You must push
him past that, or those flaws will drive you away in the end, and I will be
left to console a student who thinks only of winning you back, and not of
brewing.�

�� Harry
blinked again. Buried in there somewhere was a compliment, something he would
never have believed of Snape. He licked his lips and sat up a little straighter.
�I don�t plan on being driven away.�

�� It will be
something you cannot control.� Snape�s eyes half-lidded for a moment, as if he
were thinking of something dark, disgusting, and vulgar, though Harry had no
idea what it could be. �You cannot imagine how you would react to��

�� And then he
shook his head, and turned away, and swept out of the room, leaving Harry to
stare after him in wonder.

*

�� Lucius
turned around in the anteroom and surveyed his son carefully. He had planned on
what he would say, but he had not reckoned with the stubborn, calm face that
Draco showed him. He seemed prepared to listen to exactly as many words as were
required to make his father think he had learned his lesson, whilst in reality
learning nothing at all.

�� Lucius
wanted to shake his head in wonder. Had he let his son slip so far out of the discipline
of thought and action that ensured the survival of their family? But of course
he had, and he had encouraged Draco�s disrespect himself. The world had ceased
to matter to him after Narcissa�s death, and when he did take notice of his
son, it was only because he had wanted to prove that he could take up Narcissa�s
charge and love Draco as she would have done.

�� He knew now
that there was little he could have done that was more stupid. Draco didn�t
have the self-control or the maturity to be on his own. Lucius should have paid
more attention to him after the demise of the Dark Lord, and if he had to
vanish into the library and the sustained contemplation of Narcissa�s empty portrait
frame, it was his duty to ensure that his son could support himself.

�� He could
not. His obsession with Potter was the greatest sign of that, but not the only
one.

�� I will
grant you one chance,� Lucius said.

�� Draco
blinked, and drew himself up. Lucius could see some of his own grace and
confidence in that gesture, but he knew they were feigned. When Lucius stood on
his own to face some challenge, he had resources to base his pride on. Draco
had nothing more than a hollow core of uncertainty revolving around his
dependence on Potter and his architectural talent. Both were great gifts�or weaknesses�but
Draco could not conquer every obstacle life flung at him by relying on them. He
would have to vary his interests and diversify his strengths.

�� Lucius had
understood the same thing instinctively at seventeen, never mind twenty-seven.
Of course, the early death of his father had encouraged him in that; Lucius had
become the Malfoy patriarch in truth when he was young. Draco had become
accustomed to acting as such whilst,
in reality, fulfilling none of the responsibilities and thinking of duty as an
empty word.

�� One chance
to do what?� Draco asked.

�� Lucius eyed
his son with grim resignation. He had
stood under the lash of longer silences than that and made his enemy speak
first. Draco had no patience. That would go on the long list of flaws to be
remedied.

�� In the end,
before death came to claim him as it always did, he would see his son strong
and well-made, shining, ready to take on the fury of a world that had little
use for Malfoys or for Death Eaters. Lucius intended to raise Draco to that
state, to teach him, not to bully him. But at moments like this, as he looked
back on Draco�s extended, wasted youth, it was difficult not to want to.

�� I will
give you one chance to tell Potter the truth about yourself,� he said. �How
your obsession weakened you, what it really means�the ugly side of it as well
as the beautiful. He must know how great a fool of yourself you made over him
during the last few years.�

�� Draco
laughed. �I already have done that,� he said. �I figured out that I even fought
the war for him, and thought he was fighting it for me, rather than to kill
Voldemort.�

�� Lucius told
himself not to flinch at the name. Of course his son could say it. He did not
understand the terror of it the way Lucius did.

�� He subdued
his impatience as well. �And does he know the truth about your room beneath the
Manor?� he asked softly. �Does he know that you buried the smallest things
there, the most trivial treasures that had once touched his skin or his lips or
his hand? I believe he might be very interested to know it.�

�� Shock
melted across Draco�s face, and for a moment he stood still. Then he shook his
head. �I don�t know what you�re talking about.�

�� You�re
only surprised that I discovered it, rather.� Lucius advanced on him with slow
steps, noting the place his foot touched on the floor when Draco backed up. Much further away than I would have flinched
from, he thought with disapproval. �Draco. I am still in tune with the
Manor�s wards, still their primary master. I have resumed my place and my care
of them as of this morning. I know the changes you made.�

�� Draco
growled in his throat and looked, for a moment, desperate and furious and
trapped. Lucius approved. This was the first moment Draco seemed to have realized
what kind of obstacle he was up against, rather than carelessly trying to brush
it aside. His hands clenched into fists and then opened.

�� I will
tell him in my own time, when I think he can understand,� Draco said
temperately. �And why do you imagine that it�s necessary?�

�� Because it
is necessary to your happiness that he stay,� Lucius said. �And if he
discovered it later�as he would�he will not. And I would rather not have my
peace disrupted by the constant nagging worry that he may leave and that you
may become incompetent as you were when your obsession was unfulfilled.�

�� Draco
turned away from him, a flush mantling his cheeks and his ears and the back of
his neck. Lucius watched him in silence, as strong and as pitiless as he always
should have been, as was necessary to urge his son towards adulthood. He had
not felt this way in almost ten years.

�� Very well,�
Draco said. �Did you have any wish to insult me further?�

�� Lucius
found himself smiling with genuine amusement. �You have become unlearned in
insults, if you think that was one,� he murmured. �Go.�

�� Draco
snapped him a glance of resentment before he slid away. Lucius shook his head
and prepared to retire to his rooms. He needed to look over the accounts of the
Manor with great care, and then he needed to discipline the house-elves, who
had given him burned toast this morning. Weak house-elves were no more
acceptable than a weak son.

*

�� Harry
looked up as Draco came back through the doors into the dining room. He leaped
to his feet. Draco was pale and swaying as if he would collapse to the floor at
any moment. Harry hastened around the table, took him into his arms, and used
his wandless magic to cast a few surreptitious spells looking for the Dark
Arts. If Lucius had used those on Draco, he would pay, whether he was Draco�s
father and Harry�s host or not.

�� But Draco
was clean, and he leaned against Harry with a desperate sob that Harry didn�t
think any mere Dark spell could wring out of him. Bewildered, Harry smoothed a
comforting hand up his spine and murmured nonsense words. Draco�s grip firmed
on him, and he murmured something querulous. Harry made more meaningless
hushing sounds.

�� Do you
need to leave?� he asked, when he thought that he could trust himself to speak.
�You said that you wanted to go to the cliffs and look at the illusion of the
Keller house again.� He did not want
to go there, because that was one of the last places he had been with Draco
before Draco took him to the land of pure magic and betrayed him, but he also
knew that it made little difference. He needed to do what was best for Draco. At
the moment, Draco didn�t look strong enough to make the suggestion on his own.

�� There�s
somewhere else we have to go first.� Draco�s fingers dug desperately into Harry�s
arms and back. Harry restrained a yelp of pain and nodded.

�� All right.
Where?�

�� Draco
shuddered and drew his head up. He was shaking as if he had plunged into a bath
of ice water, but his face was set with determination, and Harry didn�t think
he had ever seen Draco look finer.

�� A room,�
Draco said. �One I created, and one that you need to see in order to understand
my obsession with you.� He smiled painfully. �My Chamber of Secrets, if you
will.�

�� Harry didn�t
know why the name of a place where he had triumphed over Voldemort�or part of
Voldemort�should make his heart begin to beat as if it were a funeral drum.

�� But Draco
wanted to go there, so they would go there. He managed a smile and swept his
arm ahead of him. �Lead on.�

*

�� Thrnbrooke:
While I agree, that isn�t the case in this story.

�� linagabriev:
I think the room is the creepiest because of the portrait; Draco kept the portrait
Harry prisoner for years and tortured him with thoughts of what he would do if
he ever got his hands on his real counterpart. You could argue that portraits
aren�t really alive, but nevertheless, this is a bit like torturing a live
animal in my book.

�� Draco
really is less dark than he thinks he is, and could bear to do less to Harry
than he thought he could.

�� Snape
realized that the imposter had lost himself.

�� Narcissa
had her own perspective on things; I originally meant to give more of her diary
entries to show that. But really, it�s another obsession in the end, with
protecting Draco, which she never broke free of. Lucius is better off not
listening to his yearnings about her any more.

�� cravedom:
No. Snape knew that the imposter had essentially lost his identity, but not the
man�s name.

�� Snape and
Lucius do share a similar goal of keeping Draco safe, so they might be able to
do something for that.

�� Well,
Narcissa and Lucius are both convinced that Harry would find out at some point�perhaps
by meeting the portrait Harry�and that would be much worse than if Draco had
told the truth.

�� Glad to
hear that your sight is getting better.

�� womo:
Afraid they won�t have the actual conversation until Chapter 33, but I do hope
that you�ll enjoy it.

�� Snape is
very self-absorbed, yes, but really, is he anything else in canon?

�� Probably,
at this point, the painting Harry needs a painting Ron and Hermione more than a
painting Draco. Draco has held him prisoner and tortured him for years,
remember.

��
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The Same Species As Shakespeare