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The Serenity of His Rage	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16981 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
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- 33
“I have to wonder why you agreed to this, Harry, my boy.”
Harry leaped into the air and came down facing Dumbledore. He honestly hadn’t known he was able to move that fast. One moment he was standing on the Astronomy Tower, looking up at the stars, and the next he was—
There.
“What do you want, sir?” Harry asked quietly. He didn’t draw his wand, but that was mostly because he and the others knew that Dumbledore’s trust in them was fragile already. The last thing Harry wanted was to destroy the pretense they’d spent so much time setting up.
But now things were moving forwards. Dumbledore had accepted their several demands, including that Harry and Draco be in the same room when Draco performed the firewalk and Snape be the one to cast the protective spells around the outside. That had to mean Dumbledore had dropped his suspicions a little, right?
Not even close, Harry realized, seeing the way that Dumbledore moved a step or two closer. Harry sighed as if he was merely annoyed at the intrusion and turned his back so he could tilt his head and consider the stars.
It also kept Dumbledore from looking into his eyes and piercing through his Occlumency shields that were only really meant to protect him against Voldemort.
“Harry, my boy,” Dumbledore persisted, making Harry’s back stiffen in rejection before he thought about it. “There is something that concerns me. Something about Tom.”
Harry glanced over his shoulder before he could help himself. Of all the people that he could be worried about right now, it was Voldemort?
“What is it, sir?” Harry finally asked in resignation, when he realized that Dumbledore wasn’t going to say anything until he asked.
Dumbledore moved up beside him. Harry stepped backwards automatically. Dumbledore gave him a sad glance, but he fixed it on the stars so quickly that it was hard to tell if he was really upset about Harry avoiding him, or more about the eternal sadness of the world.
“You have been talking to Mr. Malfoy, and Professor Snape, and your friends,” said Dumbledore. “You have been focused on destroying Horcruxes. Does it not surprise you that Tom has made no move in all that time, and in fact, never since he killed Narcissa Malfoy?”
“Well, I mean, he was pretty pissed when Draco and I broke into Malfoy Manor to rescue Lucius.”
“Yes, but since then, he hasn’t sent you any visions, has he? He hasn’t hinted of his rage and preoccupation with you? He hasn’t raided any Muggle towns or sent the Dementors or Death Eaters out?”
Harry had to shake his head, but he also had to point out, “I might not sense any visions or the connection between us in my scar, sir. Draco taught me Occlumency well enough to keep all my nightmares out.”
“Sometimes, Harry, sacrifices in the name of the greater good have to be made.”
“I’m not going to make this one,” Harry said, and wished he dared catch Dumbledore’s eye in order to frown at him. “Not when it would mean that Draco would have to suffer through the nightmares and whatever pain comes down my soul-bond with Voldemort, too.”
“You have changed so much,” said Dumbledore, his voice sad and wistful. “Putting young Mr. Malfoy’s safety above the safety of everyone else. There was a time I know you wouldn’t have deigned to spit on him.”
Harry had to turn around at that. “Oh, I would have spit on him,” he said. “What you might be thinking is that I would have laughed when I did it, instead of doing it by mistake and helping him up. And what did you bloody expect, Headmaster? You’re the one who initiated a soul-bond between us.”
“Harry—”
“No, listen to me. It’s no wonder that I care about him! It’s no wonder that I don’t want to leave him alone or expose him to pain! Even if we hadn’t fallen in love, I would want that. How could you think a soul-bond wouldn’t cause this kind of effect? It’s not like I knew anything about it!”
Dumbledore looked pained now. “It might have had some unanticipated effects,” he conceded. “But I was doing it for what I thought were the right reasons. The best.”
“Then I am, too. Are you angry because you think I’m not, or just because you know that my best and yours aren’t the same anymore?”
“I am not angry, Harry. Fearful, perhaps. When the only one who can defeat a monster like Voldemort starts to think in such narrow terms, I have to be more concerned than I would be if someone like Miss Granger or Mr. Weasley did it.”
Harry stared at him. “You know,” he said, “somehow I never noticed that before. I concentrated on the part where you told me I was special and chosen and could do things that no one else could do, not the part where you put everyone else down.”
“Harry—”
“No,” said Harry, and broke free from the hand reaching to detain him. He was shaking, but he made an effort to keep his voice calm and his head clear. He knew Dumbledore would never listen to him if he sounded too agitated. “You can hate what Draco taught me if you like, but one of those things was how to think.”
Dumbledore turned so that his back was to the parapet, and he faced Harry as Harry clattered towards the stairs down from the Astronomy Tower again. His eyes were deep and shone, and Harry only barely twisted his head in time to avoid them. God, if Dumbledore used Legilimency on him now…
“I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted us to be at odds.”
“Yeah. I know. Because this way, it’s harder to convince me to walk to my death because you think that’s the only way to destroy the Horcrux.”
“It is the only sure way to destroy the Horcrux,” said Dumbledore, and his voice was grave, with a tone of some emotion that Harry couldn’t identify. “I don’t know how to convince you. I could recite the magical theory to you, but you wouldn’t believe in or understand it. And any other kind of argument I came up with, Mr. Malfoy would find a way to counter it.”
He must not believe Snape really agrees with us. Harry caught that reassurance and managed to say, “He would be right. I don’t understand why you can’t tell me in simple terms. I mean, I remember Professor McGonagall said once that any professor who can’t explain complex concepts in simple terms isn’t much of a teacher.”
Dumbledore tried to talk, but Harry raised his voice and talked over him, even if some part of him felt horrible for doing it. “No. Why can’t it be simple? Why does it need to be me dying? Is it just because we have to use things like basilisk venom and you don’t think I could survive basilisk venom? Can’t you tell Fawkes to come and cry on me right after we stab me with the Sword of Gryffindor or something?”
“I would never do anything so risky, my boy. My dear boy…”
“No, you would just have me walk up to Voldemort and have him kill me!”
“There are reasons. I have tried to explain the reasons to you. Perhaps I haven’t done a good job, if you’re still so resistant to it.” Dumbledore was talking almost to himself, his eyes disturbed as they fixed on Harry. “Should I try again?”
“No. Because now I know how to value my life. Draco taught me how, and my friends.” Harry decided again that he shouldn’t risk exposing Snape’s allegiance to them, no matter how much he wanted to be honest. “So it doesn’t matter what kinds of arguments you use. You won’t convince me to die.”
Dumbledore stayed silent as Harry trotted down the stairs. He was shaking, and he had to stop and turn and lean his forehead against the stones, swearing when the trembling wouldn’t calm down.
Damn it. Damn it. I already knew that he didn’t hold the exact same ideas, or he wouldn’t have told Draco that this ritual would provide us with a way to get the Horcrux out of me, too. I know that he changes his mind and tells us different things. Probably to see if we tell each other the truth or keep secrets.
Harry stood still for a few moments more, his head bowed and his breathing labored. Then he raised his head and walked back towards the Room of Requirement, where Draco was waiting for him. Pretty patiently, really, given that he hadn’t come to find out where Harry had disappeared to.
I’m going to listen to what Draco and Ron and Hermione and Professor Snape say, and that’s it. No more Dumbledore. He’s had his chance, and he still couldn’t explain.
*
“I trust that you understand how critical this ritual is, Severus.”
Severus sneered a little. He had perfected the mask so long ago that it no longer felt as if he was putting on a mask. “I know that, Albus. Would I have volunteered to cast the protection spells for it otherwise?”
“I thought you might have volunteered out of a desire to safeguard Harry. Or young Mr. Malfoy,” Albus added, probably because he’d got a good look at Severus’s eyes.
Severus turned away without answering and began working the elementary protection spells outside the door of the Room of Requirement, the ones that he could activate after everyone had crossed them. His skin prickled and he kept his eyes down. Albus’s Legilimency had never been able to get through his Occlumency shields, but this was the last time he wanted to find out differently.
"Severus. Did you hear me?" Albus's voice was gently insistent.
"I heard you without being aware that you had asked a question," Severus corrected him, and moved his wand in a careful circle. The floor glowed for a moment, and then a blue protective rune faded to what looked like ordinary stone. Severus hid a smile. The rune was actually one of those that would become part of their masking ritual, but with the way it concealed itself, Albus wouldn't be any the wiser.
"I want to know how loyal you really are to me."
And Albus had stepped in front of him, and there was no more time to draw conduit runes that would siphon off the energy of the main ritual in order to pull it into their own. Severus looked straight into Albus's eyes and said nothing. There was no brush of Legilimency against his shields, maybe because Albus knew it wouldn't avail him.
There was only the steady gaze of two blue eyes that Severus had once thought were the wisest in the world. In times past, when Severus's guilt over Lily was stronger, that had sometimes been all Albus needed.
Now, Severus only met those eyes and asked softly, "Did you really expect me to approve of every plan you came up with? When I disapproved of even the one that tied Potter and Draco in the soul-bond?"
"Perhaps you were right, at that. Those boys have grown too fond of each other, when they should know how this ends."
Yes, of course, they should immediately have resigned themselves to Harry's death when you told them. But Severus kept his mouth closed and his expression smooth. Albus was heading towards some point he hadn't arrived at yet. Severus looked down his nose and waited.
"Mr. Malloy will have to firewalk. The ritual requires a committed heart, without self-doubts, or it will fail." Albus leaned in and looked searchingly up at Severus. "I can't read Mr. Malloy. I don't know if he has that committed heart."
"I think you may count on him striving to keep Potter safe no matter what he thinks about his own chances."
"Ah. And you know that because you are loyal to me?"
Severus smiled, and didn't care that the twist to his smile made Albus flinch. "There have always been contradictions in my loyalty to you, haven't there, Albus? There have been days that I could barely drag myself out of bed because of the intensity of my self-loathing. And you encouraged that. Because, without that self-loathing, there was nothing to tie me to you. A normal Severus Snape wouldn't have served your purpose at all."
"My dear boy." Albus's voice was a whisper. "That is not true. No one has wanted to see you heal more than I have. The problem is that, without the war being over, your healing would be incomplete. You needed to see Lily's murderer dead before you could rest."
They were the exact words Severus had said to him the night he swore himself to Albus, which only made him more resentful. "Rest. Not feel better."
Albus stared at him and said nothing. Of course he didn't understand the distinction, Severus thought, feeling as though he had rolled a boulder a long way. No one could who was as wrapped in plots and counterplots as Albus.
He actually plots more than a Slytherin, because he always thinks that he'll need to outplot a Slytherin.
"I only wanted to know whether you had encouraged young Mr. Malfoy to go through with this ritual, or if you had tried to hold him back."
An interesting definition of loyalty. Severus inclined his head a bit. "I gave my advice. Mr. Malfoy chose not to listen to it."
Not even someone as unversed in intrigue as Harry could have missed the way Albus stood a little straighter after that admission, or how his hand was strong and steady now as he clasped Severus's shoulder. "Thank you. I should have known you would do the best for your Slytherins. You've always been good in the Head of House position."
To which I appointed you. The words were as clear as lightning for all that they were unspoken. Severus simply nodded, and watched Albus until he was sure that he had turned back to the closed door of the Room of Requirement and left Severus to cast the right spells.
Severus bent his mind to the task, to the movements of his body and wand and the way the tip traced the runes. He was going to make this as perfect as he could, for the sake of Draco and Harry and Weasley and Granger. Albus had allowed the last two in the room as watchers for the firewalk Draco would make, probably relieved that Harry was acting "like a Gryffindor" by having them there.
For the moment, Severus had to assume they would play their parts perfectly, because that was how he intended to play his.
*
Draco knew from the constant currents of emotion flowing through the bond how nervous and impatient Harry was. But there was nothing he could do about that, not now. Instead, he held his breath when he needed to, when the currents were the worst, and then he let it out and went on steadily breathing.
They were standing--well, Draco was kneeling--in the middle of a huge room that had a circle on the floor. Well, it had looked like a circle when Draco first glanced at it. The more time went on, the more certain he became that it was an oval, made of chased gold, set mostly into the floor but rising a little above it.
The circle had runes around it. Draco hadn't paid much attention during his sixth year for understandable reasons, but he had no trouble recognizing some of the signs for fire.
Granger hadn't stopped muttering about the others since they came in here. Draco wished she would, if only because she was making Harry's anxiety spike up and down like waves lashed by thrown rocks.
Weasley stood off to the side, his eyes narrowed and his wand twisting in his hand. He wouldn’t be doing any spellcasting, but he was tense and alert as though he would.
And Harry was still making the bond ripple and bounce like he was a child jumping on a bed in the Slytherin dorm. Draco sighed soundlessly and reached out a hand towards him, taking Harry by surprise. Draco had wanted to meditate to ready himself for the ritual, but it was impossible.
“You said—” Harry began as he stumbled to his knees beside Draco.
“I know,” said Draco, and then he latched his lips onto Harry’s and ignored the way that Weasley and Granger shifted and shuffled. They had seen him and Harry kiss before. They could bloody well put up with it.
Harry tensed and shifted himself, but at last he seemed to understand that Draco wasn’t trying to smother him or anything. He leaned his head on Draco’s shoulder and sighed a little when the clasp of their lips broke. Draco stroked his hair and reveled in the quietness of the bond.
“I need you to relax as much as you can,” he whispered into Harry’s ear. “I know this is scary and complicated, but I’m the one who’s going to be walking across the fire. You’re the one who needs to stay safe and steady for me, okay? You know what will happen to my concentration if you start panicking in the middle of my firewalk.”
Harry drew in a huge rasping breath as if Draco had just reminded him what they were facing, but his back stopped trembling as Draco stroked it. “All right,” he said. “I know. It’s just—I didn’t realize there were this many runes or any other parts of it. It looks a lot more complicated than the ritual that joined us in the soul-bond, and I thought that was about as complex as it could get.”
Draco nuzzled his neck and shook his head a little. “It can get a lot worse. But I need you to hold onto your strength. To anchor me. To remind me why it’s worth concentrating and going along with this, and not just jumping across the coals to strangle Dumbledore.”
That made Harry laugh, the way Draco had intended, and relax even more, which was nice, although not something he had thought for sure would happen. “Right.” Harry’s fingers drifted above Draco’s arm, making all the little hairs stand up and flutter at him. “I understand. I’ll make you proud, Draco.”
“Give me something to come back to.”
“I promise.” Harry’s eyes and the bond both sparked as he leaned back on his heels and caught Draco’s gaze again.
“Good boy,” Draco said, and observed with raised eyebrows the interesting shivers that spread through Harry’s body when he said that. This was something they’d have to explore further later—not now, because the door of the room was opening and Dumbledore and Professor Snape were coming in. Draco rose to his feet and cast Harry one more glance before he moved to the side of the golden oval.
Harry stood up and moved backwards to join Weasley near the wall. This time, though, he was feeding steel and strength down the bond to Draco. Draco gave him one more smile and faced Dumbledore.
“You know what you have to do, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore began.
“But we don’t know all the details,” Granger cut in unexpectedly. “Can you explain it to us, please, Headmaster Dumbledore? I really want to know. These runes don’t look like any of the ones we studied in Professor Babbling’s class.” She glared at the outside of the ritual “circle” as if that was the runes’ fault.
Dumbledore glanced at her and frowned a little, and Draco wondered for a second if Granger had given away everything. If she had, he intended to leap into the oval and start walking across the coals, because it would force Dumbledore to pay attention to him.
“I don’t think I could explain all the runes right now, Miss Granger,” said Dumbledore, and his voice was calm and patient. His eyes twinkled again over his glasses, so Draco didn’t think she had given them away. Still, he frowned at her, and Granger ducked her head a little. “Perhaps later, when we aren’t so busy doing something immediate?”
Granger nodded. Draco shook his head as he turned back to the oval. He didn’t know what the point of Granger’s interjection had been. Perhaps she simply thought that she would make it easier for Draco if Dumbledore wasn’t forcing him into the ritual right away.
“It’s time, Mr. Malfoy.”
Either meditating, or, more likely, calming Harry down, had done some good after all. Draco nodded and stepped forwards. The runes carved around the edges of the oval flared at him. Draco smiled and caught Professor Snape’s eye. He would have established some runes outside the door that would feed off the energy they raised here. It calmed Draco to know he had someone so powerful and devious on his side.
Harry is powerful, he had to admit as he walked into the center of the oval, and felt the power turn slowly around like a dragon waking from sleep. But I don’t think anyone could call him devious.
Professor Snape was murmuring beneath his breath as he stared at Draco. But since he wasn’t moving his wand, Dumbledore probably thought he was just hoping this worked, or even praying for Draco’s safety. One could call upon runes without wand movements, though, at least if they were all properly carved.
“Now.” Dumbledore twitched his own wand, and the ordinary rocks that he had laid in the center of the oval all began to glow, transformed, or maybe Transfigured, into coals. “You know what you have to do. Keep the purpose of the ritual firmly in your mind. The purification that fire can bring.” He looked at Draco’s left arm. Draco had deliberately worn a sleeveless shirt that bared his Dark Mark. “Ready?”
Draco nodded without looking away from the coals. He didn’t know for sure if this would work, but he caught Harry’s eye, and it didn’t matter if it would work or not. It was still worth it to try.
Knowing he couldn’t even keep track of all the swirling magic that would fill the room in moments, and that he shouldn’t try, Draco stepped forwards into the fire.
*
SP777: Thanks very much! Next chapter is the real beginning of the magical theory in action.
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The Serenity of His Rage