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Soldier's Welcome	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 25565 -:- 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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Chapter Thirty-Two�Building
a Strategy

�� If you
think you can do this technique, then show me.�

�� Harry
shifted uneasily. One of the hardest things to get used to in this strange new
world that was the second term of Auror training was the Combat teacher the Aurors
had found to replace Gregory. She was also a woman, but there the similarity
ended. Jennifer Morningstar seemed interested in absolutely everything, and
would nod and consider the wildest claims seriously.

�� Then she
would ask you to get up and prove them.

�� I�I said I
could,� Harry admitted reluctantly, �but that was under my breath, and you
weren�t really supposed to hear.�

�� Morningstar
smiled. She had a young face, although her hair was grey. �Then sit down,
Trainee Potter, and let me find someone who can do it.� She paused and looked
over the class while Harry retreated into the half-circle that she required her
students to sit in. �Trainee Malfoy?�

�� Harry
relaxed. If Draco learned the technique Morningstar was talking about, then he
could teach it to Harry.

�� Besides, it
was always a pleasure to watch Draco in motion.

�� Draco might
have been walking up an aisle covered in red carpet to receive an award, for
all the concern he showed as he walked towards Morningstar. She nodded to him
and planted herself in profile to him, her feet braced. �Try to knock me over,�
she said. �Shoulder-rush me or otherwise use your weight, but not your wand.�

�� Draco gave
her a brief outraged look that Harry doubted she noticed; of course, that look
said, he would go unarmed because they weren�t supposed to use their wands in
here at any point. But Morningstar was good at ignoring things that she didn�t
want to see, and also near-sighted. She smiled at Draco and gave a slightly
mocking invitation with one crooked hand.

�� He came in
low and from the side, seeming at first as if he might run past her. Harry
swallowed and realized he was leaning forwards as he watched Draco sweep out
one arm. He wanted to catch Morningstar in the stomach and send her sprawling,
Harry thought. Constant training with Draco had made him better at estimating
the direction of Draco�s movements.

�� Morningstar
grabbed Draco�s reaching arm and whirled to the side, then stepped forwards.
Harry blinked. He could hardly process the movement, though he knew she�d
interrupted Draco�s momentum and ripped him off his feet, because it had
happened so fast. Suddenly Draco was kneeling on the floor and hacking while
Morningstar took her knee out of his stomach and smiled at the rest of them.

�� He doesn�t
understand the technique,� she explained needlessly.

�� Harry bit
his lip and tried not to look at Draco. He would be humiliated, and the last
thing he needed right now�or that their partnership needed�was for him to
realize that Harry found that funny.

�� You need
to watch out for your balance as well as your enemy�s balance,� Morningstar
said, stepping away from Draco. �He was relying too much on his weight to knock
me down. And he would have, if I was fool enough to stand still for it. But I
know the limitations of my own body.� She held out her arms, which seemed
slender next to Draco�s, just as her small body seemed fragile next to his. It
had taken Harry several classes to realize that those slender arms were lined
with muscle. �You have to know the limitations of yours, and not only your
strengths. Young wizards are too apt to trust to the strengths, and even think themselves
invincible at times.� She looked at with pity at Draco, who was rising to his
feet with a slow groan and a stretching process that made Harry think
Morningstar had put some kinks in his back. �No one�s invincible. I�ll meet the
enemy who�ll kill me someday, and the rest of you will, too.�

�� Then she
turned about and smiled at Darien West, who had often been the butt of Gregory�s
jokes. �On your feet, young man. I think that you should practice against me
now and try to avoid what Malfoy did wrong.�

�� One of the
most disconcerting things about Morningstar, Harry thought as he gave Draco a
look of sympathy, was the way she could sound so cheerful right after making a
pronouncement about death and failure, which she did fairly often.

�� Overall,
though, he preferred her to Gregory.

�� And as
interested as he was in learning to fight without his wand, he paid more
attention at the moment to the fact that Catherine Arrowshot was looking at him
speculatively.

*

�� Begin.�

�� Draco bared
his teeth. After failures in Combat several days in a row, he was all the
readier to fight against his opponents in Dearborn�s class.

�� If only Dearborn
had not decided that they needed to learn how to fight in groups this term, and
paired him and Harry with two useless young witches against four people, one of
whom was Weasley.

�� Weasley had
by no means accepted Draco as much as Harry thought he had. He still sneered at
him in strategic moments when Harry wasn�t looking, and sent stray hexes his
way when Harry was out of the room or busy with homework for another class. He
had used a Stinging Hex on Draco�s arse that had left him unable to sit down
for a day.

�� And the
worst part was that Draco didn�t want to complain to Harry about it, even
though he knew Harry would ask Weasley to stop, because that would make it look
as though he was the one who couldn�t
get along.

�� I never knew a Weasel could be sneaky, he
thought grumpily as he lifted his wand and gave the duelist�s bow to Weasley
that Dearborn insisted they use in a combat like this. Weasley grinned back,
his eyes full of fire. I should have paid
more attention to the fact that a weasel is a rodent.

�� The groups
surged forwards. The center of the classroom had been cleared of desks and
chairs, and the rest of the class stood along the walls behind protective wards
that Dearborn had erected himself. They watched with wide, excited eyes.
Dearborn, probably because he wanted to test both Draco and Harry, had made
sure that this was their first chance to put their training into practice.

�� Weasley
aimed straight at Draco, then turned and feinted to the left. Draco was sure it
was a feint, after the attention he had started paying in Morningstar�s class,
and tightened his muscles against the impulse to give in and pay too much
attention to it. He saw Harry sending a jinx at one of Weasley�s partners, and
he wanted to shake his head. Why would you use a jinx when a crippling spell
would be more in order, to make sure that your foe didn�t stand up again?

�� On the
other hand, the rebound of the compatible magic rolled over from Harry�s spell
and sent the familiar rush of power through Draco�s veins. As Weasley sent a
crackling, spitting Acid Curse at him, Draco dodged to the side and whispered, �Arceo conexionem.�

�� The spell
struck Weasley looking like nothing more than a puff of white dust, but Weasley
at once paused and stared down at his wand. Then he lifted it and said, �Proteg�� only to interrupt himself and
scratch his head.

�� Draco
smiled nastily, not caring who saw. They were supposed to be treating each
other like enemies right now, after all. And the spell was subtle but
reversible, so it wouldn�t permanently damage Weasley. It simply sliced his
thoughts apart from each other, keeping him from forming logical connections.

�� Watch out, Draco!�

�� He nearly
went down as someone shouldered him from the side, and then realized that Harry
was standing between him and one of the wizards who had been fighting next to
Weasley, shaking his head in disgust. One of them had aimed a spell at Draco, and
he probably would have succumbed if not for Harry.

�� It was still
an irritating thing to know, and so
he leaned heavily on Harry as he stepped up to fight beside him. He could be a
bit more tactful about the things that annoyed him, and especially about
rescuing someone who was, in the end, just as skilled as he was�exactly as skilled, thanks to the
compatible magic.

�� One of
Weasley�s partners was Catherine Arrowshot, and she fought on long after
Weasley had wandered off to point his wand into a corner and the other two
students were groaning on the ground with bloody wounds on their legs.
Arrowshot dodged most of their spells, raised excellent shields, and responded
a time or two with a nasty curse that Draco admired. He did wonder how useful
she would be in a battle with someone else, since she seemed to fight best
alone, but that was surely just a matter of training.

�� Enough.�

�� When
Dearborn stepped forwards and interrupted them, less than a second after they
had finally managed to bind Arrowshot with Incarcerous,
it felt sudden. Draco blinked and glanced behind him. The two witches who
had fought with them were sprawled on the floor, bound in ropes, too. He didn�t
know if Arrowshot or the wizards who fought with Weasley had got them, and he
was a bit ashamed to realize that he couldn�t remember.

�� I see that
you still have some things to learn about coordination,� Dearborn said. He
frowned at Draco. �While you are partners with Trainee Potter in many senses of
the word, Trainee Malfoy, you should not allow his presence to make you forget
the others in the room.�

�� Draco
inclined his head stiffly, his frustration and resentment visible in the blush
on his cheeks. Dearborn seemed not to care about that, and turned away to
remove the spell on Weasley and exhort the others to pay more attention, as
well. Draco scowled at his back and felt Harry rubbing his shoulder.

�� Why are
you so angry?� Harry whispered, waiting to say it until Dearborn had begun his
scolding. Dearborn had views about
students talking in his class unless he gave them permission.

�� Because he
was the one who thought we should be partners, and now he�s speaking as though
it�s our fault that this battle didn�t go well.� Draco hissed the words,
partially because it helped to relieve his feelings and partially for the
pleasure of leaning heavily against Harry. Harry shuddered when Draco�s breath
traveled over his ear. Draco promised himself that he would remember that for a
time when they had more privacy.

�� But why
would you expect him to show us extra favoritism?� Harry asked in a perplexed
tone. �And why would you expect to be perfect the first time, or upset if you
weren�t?�

�� Draco gave
him an incredulous look. �I distinctly remember you getting upset when you
failed to do something at Hogwarts,� he said.

�� Because
half the time the professors never explained themselves clearly enough.� Harry
rolled his eyes. �But once I knew what I was doing wrong and could correct it,
then I didn�t mind. Only Hermione gets things right the first time.�

�� Draco would
have argued, but Dearborn had turned around again, his eyes sharp and solemn,
and he thought it better to shut up and listen.

�� Inwardly,
however, he decided that his view of Harry would need to undergo more readjustment.
He had assumed without thinking about it that Harry expected easy victories and
was frustrated when he didn�t attain them. Harry had seemed to be angry at Hogwarts
quite a lot.

�� Now I wonder if that came from having a Dark
Lord after him.

�� And his
childhood might have something to do with it, too. Draco was not going to
forget about what Harry had told him, even though Harry might prefer that he do
so.

*

�� Eat as
much as you can!� Ketchum called as he paced through the tables in the dining
hall. �You�ll need your strength for the class this afternoon.�

�� Harry
smiled as most of the people around him groaned. It was strange to him that they
objected to the Battlefield Tactics class and not to the Combat class, which
usually left them with just as many bumps and bruises. But then, people were
strange to him a lot of the time, and he usually assumed he was never going to
understand and that was all there was to it.

�� He took a
final bite of his sandwich and leaned back in his chair, idly staring around.
Ron was sitting at another table and glaring. Harry rolled his eyes. Of course
he would, after what Draco had done to him in Offensive and Defensive that day.
But sooner or later one of two things would happen: Ron would accept it, or he
would complain to Harry about it and Harry would remind him that they were all
trying to be friends now. It looked as if Hermione was already haranguing Ron
about that, if the bleak look he gave her was any indication.

�� Someone
walked straight through the tables towards them, acting as if other people
would naturally move out of her way, which they did. Harry blinked. He
recognized her as one of Ketchum�s trainees, but didn�t know who she was until
she came to a stop in front of their table and stared at Draco. Then he
remembered. Kepler, the one Draco had said he would try to speak to.

�� We are
agreed,� she said simply, and gave him a little bow, and then turned away. Most
of the people ignored her as she went past, Harry noticed. He wondered if they were
afraid of her, or had merely learned that most of the things they did didn�t
matter to her. The only time Harry had ever seen Kepler get upset was when two
of their fellow trainees had disarranged the Tactics classroom as a prank.

�� One down,�
Draco said, with a faint smirk, and turned to look at Harry. Harry swallowed.
He kept forgetting how beautiful Draco seemed to him now, and then little
flashes like this would remind him. �How�s it going with Arrowshot?� He kept
his voice low enough that no one on either side of them could hear.

�� I spoke
with her after Dearborn�s class.� Harry shook his head and shoved a crumb off
his plate. He watched from the corner of his eye as Draco tensed, but in the
end he just rolled his eyes and blew his breath out without saying anything.
Harry smiled. He hadn�t been sure how good Draco�s control was, but apparently
he had got over his obsession with telling Harry how to eat and dress and walk
and comb his hair. �She was angry because we tied her up, but she said that she�d
come talk to us tonight.�

�� Good.� Draco
glanced over his shoulder. Harry turned to look with him. Their bodyguards,
Julia Timmons and William Redworth, lounged on the seats of the table behind them,
looking bored. Harry couldn�t blame them. Nothing exciting had happened so far,
and they�d had to listen to numerous arguments as Draco tried to get
comfortable with Ron and Hermione. Draco lowered his voice even though there
was no sign of Timmons and Redworth paying attention to them. �What about
Margate?�

�� He told me
that he wasn�t impressed by me being the Boy-Who-Lived and to stop wasting his
time,� Harry said briefly. He felt anger burn in his throat when he thought
about Margate. The man hadn�t even let Harry say what he�d come about. He�d
laughed at him, and told him that he got away with a lot but that didn�t
matter, because Margate was never going to do what he said.

�� I reckon
that I�ll have to talk to him after all.� Draco had a faintly disgusted look on
his face. Harry decided not to tell him that he looked like Aunt Petunia when
she was thinking about giving food to Harry.

�� Why did
you want me to talk with him in the first place?� Harry asked. �You did a good
job with Kepler.�

�� Margate
can�t keep secrets very well,� Draco answered. He leaned his elbow on the table
and shoved his fingers through his fringe in frustration. Even like that, Harry
thought he looked good. What the fuck is
wrong with me? It�s one thing to be attracted to someone and another thing to
think about every gesture like that. �I thought he would respond best to
honesty. But I�ll have to bribe him instead.�

�� He seemed
to think I was trying to bribe him,� Harry pointed out. �I don�t know what you
can give him to make him respect you.�

�� Draco
smiled, and the smile was slow and sinister and made Harry shiver and burn at the
same time. �I know.�

*

�� How are
you, Margate?�

�� The blond
trainee grunted without looking up from the essay he was writing. Seeing the
way his eyebrows tugged together, Draco had to stifle a chuckle. It was
probably taking so much of his brainpower to write the essay that he didn�t
even realize who had just sat down next to him and drawn out his books.

�� Sure
enough, Margate wrote three more lines and leaned back with a little nod to
consider his grand work. Then he suddenly looked up and narrowed his eyes at
Draco. �Here, you. You can�t sit here.�

�� Why not?
It�s a free library.� Margate had chosen a table in the library that Harry and
Draco had often used when they were looking up information on magical
creatures. Draco liked it because it backed into a corner of the shelves and one
could see the door from it, as well as any direction that people might
reasonably approach. He could see Granger at one of the other tables, for
example, furiously scribbling notes from a thick book that probably had to do
with Dark Arts. One of the few advantages to come out of enlisting Harry�s friends
in the battle against Nihil was that Granger really was a good researcher, nearly as good as Harry had thought she was.

�� I�m
studying,� said Margate. �And I don�t like you.�

��

�� Yes, but I
don�t know why.� Draco pretended to look through his Auror Conduct book while
Margate struggled with that one, frowning as he saw the latest list of rules
they had to memorize. He thought Conduct a badly-designed and badly-run class,
and not only because someone so young was teaching it. What was the point of
having trainees memorize useless rules and procedures, and then yelling at them
when they broke the rules, as they inevitably did? It would be better to teach
them in logical clumps and use the exams to reinforce knowledge of the rules. Then
bring them into other classes, and ask what spells one would use if one�s partner
was down, and how those would fit inside the regulations, and so on.

�� Not that
anyone would listen to Draco if he tried to explain his brilliant changes to
the curriculum. They thought of him as a child, still.

�� Because
you�re a Death Eater,� Margate finally said, with the triumph of someone who
had discovered an unshakable argument. �You�ve still got that Dark Mark on your
arm.� He poked his quill towards Draco�s left arm, and then examined the end of
the feather, apparently for invisible contamination.

�� What if I
told you that someone was doing something worse than branding people with the
Dark Mark?� Draco asked him. �Something worse than the Dark Lord wanted to do
in a thousand years?�

�� Margate
paused and stared at him.

�� You heard
about the former trainee who was killed?� The instructors hadn�t been able to
hush her death up, probably because someone had had to clean up Portillo Lopez�s
office and Draco couldn�t imagine the instructors doing it all themselves. Of
course, the instructors had chosen to blame it on Gregory. Draco could see the
logic behind that, but it was the same �logic� that led them to leave Jones in
charge of Auror Conduct, and so he couldn�t approve of it. �That�s the kind of
thing they want to do to everybody.�

�� Margate
began to sneer at him. �Who�s they?�
But his sneer couldn�t hide the restless way his hands played with his quill,
or the way his eyes never left Draco.

�� Draco hid
his own smile, thinking it best if he kept his face stern right now. This was
the reason that Margate didn�t like Harry, and the same reason that Draco had
been so sure he could bribe him. Margate was looking for a chance to be a hero.
He was too stupid to be of use to Nihil, except perhaps as a receptacle for
grief magic, but Draco had decided that they must simply accept the risk that anyone
could be infected and proceed from there. But he would be of use to someone who
could promise him a large part in a war for the �light� against the �Dark.�

�� He wanted
to be Harry. Draco couldn�t give him that, but he could give him another chance
for heroic action.

�� Someone
with the name of Nihil,� Draco said. �That was the name left behind with the
Dark magic that Potter and I faced in the corridor months ago. And then we
faced a woman who called herself Nusquam.� This was taking more than a slight
risk, but at the same time, Draco thought it was important to spread around the
names. If he had realized the significance of the names on the note that the
false Jarvis Abrane had given Harry, he would have reacted more strongly
earlier.

�� People deserve the chance to know who their
enemies are.

�� Margate was
looking at him from the corner of just one eye now, but that eye was alight. �You
don�t say,� he muttered, with a bad attempt at casualness. He flipped his quill
over between his fingers. �And why do you think I can help?�

�� Because I
think you�re too honest and honorable for Nihil to try and ensnare you,� Draco
said truthfully. And also too much of a
fool. �And I know that you�re good in Observation. We want you to watch out
for them, and tell us if you see something suspicious.�

�� You want
me to spy?� Margate drew himself up
and glared as if Draco had wanted him to eat poison.

�� The
bravest man I ever knew was a spy,� Draco said, truthfully again. He leaned
forwards. �Besides, we�re doing the same thing ourselves. Our enemies are too
powerful for us to face directly, and right now, they�re hidden. We need to
find them and drag them into the light, but at the same time, we can�t let
ourselves be killed before that happens. So we do something that Harry doesn�t
like, either, for the sake of doing something better. Do you understand?�

�� The clouds
slowly cleared from Margate�s face, and he nodded enthusiastically. �I got it,�
he said in a loud whisper. �You can count on me.�

�� Good.�
Draco stood up. He�d spent long enough with Margate for someone to be
suspicious�and Harry couldn�t keep Timmons and Redworth distracted forever by
walking briskly around the Ministry. �We�ll contact you.�

�� Margate
grinned at him. Draco gathered his books and parchment and walked out of the
library, pausing to shut the door carefully behind him before he turned back to
face the maze of corridors between their rooms and this point.

�� A shadow
caught his attention. Someone was standing, out of sight but also not really
trying to hide, in a side corridor.

�� Draco
waited. The shadow didn�t move. He drew his wand and approached cautiously. He
didn�t think much would happen here, with so many people near to be alerted by
a scream, but one never knew.

�� He stuck
his head around the corner, and caught a single glimpse of a figure before it
dissolved into golden light.

�� The glimpse
was enough. The figure had been Nusquam, as whole and healthy as ever, smiling
at him.

*

�� Review
responses are at http://lomonaaerenrr.livejournal.com/1232.html (if you�re
having trouble with previous links, try removing the period at the end of the
link).
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