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The Marriage of True Minds	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 55083 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money from this story.

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Chapter Thirty-Four--Circling in Opposition

            "She's already fled, hasn't she."

            Harry knew his voice was flat, but he couldn't help it. The faces of the Aurors Anderson had sent told him the truth when they came back into the office. Anderson interrogated the searchers with a silent glance, then nodded and turned back to Harry, apparently deciding that he was trusted enough to hear this.

            "Yes, Potter. Auror Porter is gone, and most of her personal effects were removed from the flat, looking as though this was the product of long planning rather than the desperate actions of a fugitive." Anderson gritted his teeth and chewed the end of his long, grey-streaked moustache, which Harry had thought from the first day he saw it existed only to give Anderson something to chew on. "And we received a resignation letter from her this morning, apparently. That fool of an undersecretary didn't think to tell me about it until just now when I asked, of course."

            "Let me go to her flat, sir," Harry said, surging to his feet. "There might be something left behind, something of the beast, that I could recognize--"

            "No."

            Harry blinked, unaccustomed to being so flatly refused permission. He glanced at Anderson, realized there was a gleam in the old man's eyes that he hadn't encountered since Auror training, and dipped his head. "May I ask why, sir?" He managed to keep his voice calm, even if it was artificially calm instead of real.

            "Because it's gone midnight," Anderson said. "And I have a letter on my desk informing me that I'm to be held responsible for violating several rules about the health and safety of my employees if I keep you here past eleven, and that Narcissa Malfoy will personally see that I rue that day." He leaned in until his nose almost touched Harry's. "I don't enjoy being lectured to, which is one reason I let you stay until we know Porter's fate, but it's been a long day, and even I can see that you're almost ready to collapse on your feet. Go. Home."

            Harry blinked back at Anderson, and then, as if reminding him of them had brought them into existence, he felt the aches that spiraled through his body, the way his muscles were pulled taut almost to the point of snapping, the pain at his heels as though someone had bitten at them or driven the tendons tighter. Why did his bloody heels hurt? Harry couldn't remember anything he'd done involving them.

            But he had to admit, home sounded good right now. And bed, and protective spells around him to make sure that nothing of the beast could seep into his room or his dreams.

            And his husband, and his mother-in-law.

            He mumbled something incoherent and escaped past Anderson and the sympathetic but still staring people who had investigated Porter's flat. At least he didn't think they would hold anything he might have said against him later.

            He had to go back to the office for his cloak, and Ron took one look at him and refused to let him Apparate. He actually marched Harry down to the Atrium and stood there while he used the Floo to make sure that he pronounced the name right and didn't end up "in Knockturn Alley, like second year, remember, mate?" When Harry tried out some blurry accusation as to why Ron was here and not at home where he should be, where Hermione would want him to be, Ron only lifted his eyebrows smugly and tilted his head to the side.

            "She understands that I need to stay late sometimes because I don't push it all the time," he said. "But when you're always chasing enemies at the expense of your health and energy, then, well, shit happens."

            Harry used a glare. Ron still didn't seem to feel as sorry as he should have. He pushed Harry into the Floo, and Harry was whirled away and back to the Manor wondering how he was going to get up the stairs to his room. Maybe he could have a house-elf carry him.

*

            "Master Harry Malfoy is being back, Master Draco Malfoy First Master sir!"

            Draco closed his eyes and didn't put his head down on his knees, because he didn't think that would have been appropriate in front of a house-elf, even Juli, who was devoted to Harry. But it was long moments before he could find his voice and answer her excited bouncing. "You may go to him."

            Juli vanished. Draco shook his head with a little smile. He had ordered her to come and tell him when Harry was home, rather than simply attend to Harry and take him to bed. It had been hard on the elf, but Draco had wanted that alarm system so Harry wouldn't feel too watched-over. If he wanted to think he still had complete privacy in the Manor as to his comings and goings, Draco intended to let him.

            But as intense as Harry's need for privacy was, Draco thought his need to know Harry was safe at least as great.

            He listened, though in reality he couldn't hear the faint sounds of Juli helping Harry to bed, offering him food, building up the fire for him. Knowing Harry, he would refuse the food. Draco glanced at the clock and shook his head. And he probably hasn't eaten since this morning, either.

            But there were some things that he couldn't force Harry to do, and eating was one of them. He sat still and quiet until Juli appeared in front of him and bowed again. He had wanted her to let him know when Harry fell asleep.

            Then he turned and crossed the room--the same one where he had once gone to sit with Harry and discuss their respective views of marriage--to the sunken pool in the center of the floor. He knelt down close to the edge and stared, pouring his will into it without benefit of a wand. He had never done this before, and wasn't sure it would work. His father had described the process to him years ago, at the time when they had all been certain that Lucius's domination over the Malfoy family would last forever and Draco would inherit only in a comfortable old age.

            The water roiled. Draco grimaced and braced his hands so that he wouldn't fall into it. His father had never told him how tiring this was. Draco's eyelids were drooping and he'd barely done anything of note. He pushed himself further back from the edge of the water, until his arse hit the couch that surrounded most of the pool, and then settled down and stared into the pool again.

            The image gradually formed. A blazing fire at the foot of the bed filled the room with difficult and shifting shadows, and Draco could see the blurred reds and greens and blues and bits of gold and silver inlay, and then he could make out the clustered scarlet row of Harry's Auror robes.

            On the bed, Harry lay without a shirt, on his stomach, his arms stretched above him as if they were chained to something, asleep.

            Draco shivered violently. The emotion that touched him when he saw the scars from above for the first time was...strange. He had known what they looked like, of course, but somehow it was still hard to see them like this, the maze of grey and twisting worm-trails, the channels that were gouged into Harry's flesh. They made no pattern that Draco could see, though he squinted at them for as long as he could stand to look, and tried to make his mind find one.

            Harry's breathing was light and steady, and his forehead didn't furrow with the stress that Draco had seen on his face the few nights he was asleep in Draco's bed. That was good.

            He could look away anytime now. Harry wouldn't be amused if he knew about the existence of the pool and that the head of the Malfoy family could use it to look at any room within the Manor. Draco had had to reassure himself Harry was safe, but now he knew that, and there was really no reason for him to keep on watching.

            Especially when the scars made the skin on his neck and balls crawl.

            But he did, and only pulled his will out of the pool and shut away the vision when Harry began stirring as though he felt eyes on him. Harry's magic was powerful enough that Draco thought he might be able to sense the intrusion when he woke. Most likely not, but why take the chance at all?

            His will still sparked above the pool in a cascade of golden sparks and silver ones. Draco hesitated, then decided he might as well use it and dropped the magic into the water once more. What was Lucius doing, locked away in the small wing of the Manor that had been all he had to live on now?

            A familiar scene formed--well, familiar except for the rooms, because Lucius was no longer seated in the large formal study that had belonged to the master of the house--with his father bent over a desk, his eyes fixed on a book. As Draco watched, he murmured to himself and turned the page. Draco pushed a bit more of his magic into the pool, but he was swaying already and knew that he wouldn't be able to muster enough power to hear what Lucius had said.

            He just watched instead, watched his former father read the book until the end, then lean back and stare thoughtfully into the fire. He looked less weary, less cowed, than Draco had hoped would be the case. His hands linked together behind his head, and he smiled, now and then, as if fleeting thoughts amused him. Then he stood up and reached out to pinch the reading candle on his desk out.

            Draco withdrew from the vision at the same time, wishing that he had been able to catch a glimpse of the book's title. But no, it had remained flat on Lucius's desk until the end, and the spine was turned away from Draco.

            He should, perhaps, endeavor to keep more of an eye on his former father, he thought soberly, and stop being so enthralled with Harry.

*

            Harry yawned his way through getting ready the next morning. He was eager to go in and see if he could find a lead that the Aurors investigating Porter's flat had missed, but at the same time, he dragged his feet as far as getting out of bed went. It was so comfortable, so warm. He wouldn't have minded lying there for a little while longer.

            He paused, then shook his head and smiled wryly to himself. He would get too used to the Malfoys' luxuries and the way they wanted to spoil him if he let himself. This was the kind of time when he did want a narrower and harder bed, and when the mere thought that he could have food if he called for a house-elf was worrisome. He wouldn't have such luxuries out in the field.

            Especially if the attempt to find Porter, and the wizards who would come out of hiding as Harry and the other Aurors got closer to their secrets, would be as dangerous as he thought they would be.

            "Mr. Potter."

            The name that greeted him when he stepped out of his room didn't seem to fit him, although of course most of the Aurors at the Ministry still called him by his old surname. But it had one useful effect. It meant Harry was expecting trouble even before he turned around, because he knew who it was.

            "Lucius," he said. He didn't know if Draco would want him to call someone exiled from the family "Mr. Malfoy."

            Lucius grimaced as if he'd bitten into a sour apple, but nodded. "I suppose I deserve that, from you," he said, and ran his gaze efficiently across Harry's face and body, as if he were cataloging changes from the ones that had been there last time he saw Harry. Harry gritted his teeth and put up with it. It was less bothersome than some of the other things Lucius might have done.

            "I owe you an apology," Lucius said, which was so far from what Harry had expected him to say that he spent endless minutes blinking at him.

            "Excuse me?" he asked at last.

            Lucius inclined his head. "I brought you into the family dragging you on ropes of steel."

            "It's chains," Harry said, his brain still in the mood to seize possibly irrelevant details and make them important. "It would be chains of steel that you dragged me on, not ropes."

            Lucius tensed as though anticipating a blow, then hissed and made a sideways, sweeping gesture with one hand. "Well. Yes. The problem is that I had thought you would adapt to it rather better than this."

            Harry snorted. "How could you think that? You knew my temper and my reputation, and you knew the history that lay between us. I don't believe you."

            Lucius watched him with glittering coldness, which Harry was glad to see. Never forget who he is, what he did, no matter how apologetic he looks now. He'll always want something that you don't want to give, and negotiating fairly is a weakness, to him.

            "I meant," Lucius said at last, "that I had thought you would keep your distance from my son and wait for me to change my mind. Not plunge headlong into a love affair with him that you must know is hopeless."

            Harry studied him for a moment before he replied. Lucius had a small cluster of sweat beads near the hair on his temple, and one hand was closed into a loose fist. He opened it again when he saw that Harry was watching, but the damage had already been done.

            "You're lying," Harry said softly. "That's the real reason that you're approaching the end of the marriage bond like this. And you are, aren't you? You're hinting that you'll release us. But the sole reason is that we haven't done what you expected. We haven't become enemies, and Draco hasn't been made miserable and I haven't dragged against him like you expected. We've adapted, and Draco's even courting a woman I think would make him more independent of you if they married." He shook his head, exasperated. "Is admitting that you lost and releasing the bond because it doesn't benefit anyone so foreign to you? If you let the bond go, then things would at least change, but you have to approach even that as if it represents an attempt to manipulate us."

            "You do not understand," Lucius said, but his color had heightened, if only subtly, and thus showed Harry that he'd guessed right. "I want my son happy and free, and I understand now that he would not find either happiness or freedom with you."

            "Then end the bond," Harry said. There was heat in his throat and his cheeks, and he could feel his heart thrumming like a swarm of bees. Lucius stared at him, and Harry wondered what he looked like just then. Maybe somebody who would attack, if the cautious step backwards Lucius took a moment later was any indication. "Snap it now, and then Draco won't be in danger from me."

            "I did not say that he would be in danger," Lucius said, with such prissiness that Harry almost wanted to laugh despite the threat to his marriage.

            And why should I care if the marriage is threatened? Two days ago, I was thinking that the ritual to end it would be the best thing we could do.

            "That sounds like another reason not to do it right now," Harry said. "But you could do it now, right? All you need is a little effort of will, and it's done." He heard a footstep behind him, towards the top of the stairs, but couldn't turn around to see whether it was Draco or Narcissa. He was fairly sure that Lucius would take any motion away from him as an admission of weakness.

            "You want to leave him behind?" Lucius asked in a low voice. "That is not the impression I received from the last day and night."

            "I want you to stop playing like this," Harry told him bluntly. "I want you to stop acting as if you have any power over us. As long as you dangle the bait in front of us, you think we'll leap and snap at it like hungry dogs. But I'm not going to. Go away, Lucius." He paused, and gave Lucius a nasty smile. "I would call you father-in-law, but considering that you're exiled from the family, I can't."

            He turned around and faced Draco. Draco stood as still as one of those statues in the mausoleum, his eyes darting back and forth between Harry and Lucius.

            "I do still want to be with you," Harry told him softly. "But I won't let Lucius control us like this." And he walked past Draco towards the stairs that led down to the main dining room. "Coming?" he added over his shoulder.

            He felt the hesitation surging behind him like an ocean wave, and he didn't know if Draco would follow. He really might prefer to stay and confront his father, if only because he thought Lucius the more important one in this equation.

            Harry refused to let himself turn his head. He kept steadily walking, and if Draco chose opposition over cooperation, well, that was his look-out.

            But then there came a steady cascade of footfalls after him, and Draco was beside Harry, offering his arm as if he was escorting Harry out of a fancy dinner. Harry hesitated, then took it. He might have worried about it making them look weak in front of Lucius, but Lucius not only thought of them as weak already, he thought he could do anything he liked with them. That was pretty fucking obvious.

            "How did you do that?" Draco breathed at Harry as they reached the lower step.

            Harry looked up at him, shrugged, and smiled. "I didn't grow up with him looming over my life and teaching me everything I thought I knew, so it makes me harder for him to intimidate," he said simply. "Should we go in and ask what's for breakfast?"

*

            Draco had not realized how Harry's fearlessness might translate into a confrontation with Lucius. When he came up to invite Harry to breakfast, he had seen Harry braced in front of his former father, and the first thought that came to mind was, He'll betray me. He wants free of the bond so badly that he'll make a bargain with my father, and leave me behind.

            That was a stupid thought, Draco thought now, swallowing a slice of delicately prepared ham with difficulty. Harry would have come at once if Lucius had snapped the marriage bond and told Draco about it, and Draco would have had reason to suspect something when the ring broke in half and fell from his finger, anyway.

            That wasn't a betrayal. That was Lucius deciding to do something, and Harry responding in the best way he could.

            I still can't really tell if he wants the marriage or not, Draco thought, licking his lips as he watched Harry talking to his mother. Narcissa had a quiet shine of happiness about her face, and looked at them sitting together with complacency that sent a surge of flame curling around Draco's heart. But I think what he wants is to choose. If Lucius threatens him with dissolution of the bond, he won't let Lucius use it as a threat. If someone else urges him to keep to the marriage, he'll resist if they seem to have selfish motives for it or to be twisting his arm.

            Harry was more adaptable than Draco had ever dreamed.

            And he did not know how he was going to let him go.

            He stared at Harry, who raised one eyebrow back at him and looked as if he'd like to ask a question. But just then, a large white owl came through one of the windows of the dining room, flying heavily. Draco stood up and reached out an arm for it, but it swerved and flew for Harry. Harry gazed up with a wistful expression on his face, and Draco remembered that he'd had a white owl that had died in the war.

            "Harry," he said sharply. "Don't. That's Pansy's bird, and I don't know what she'll do to you if she touches you."

            Harry hastily cast a small ward in front of him. The owl pulled up, hovering with creaky flaps, and dropped the package it held in its talons. The package hit the table and broke apart.

            Out of it swarmed a whirl of photographs, accompanied by a sheet of pink paper saying in Pansy's voice, "Forgive me, darlings. I had to wait longer than I expected to find the perfect gift."

            Draco stared at one of the photographs as it hovered in front of him. It showed Harry locked in a passionate kiss with a woman who certainly wasn't Ginny Weasley, from her height and dark hair, though she had her back to the camera and Draco couldn't see her face. Harry pulled away from the kiss a moment later and gave the camera a leer Draco had never seen him wear.

            The other pictures were similar. Harry kissing men, kissing women, embracing a dog, staring at a centaur as if trying to estimate how well-hung he was. All of them would pass muster to a casual glance, which was all most people would give them.

            Draco knew they must have been tempered with magically, but he didn't know the exact spells. He turned around to see how Harry was taking it.

            Harry's face was so calm that Draco tensed. The ring on his finger wasn't buzzing, but he thought it might start soon. Harry plucked a picture out of the air that showed him kneeling in front of a horse with his mouth open and studied it. He raised his eyebrows a moment later.

            "I recognize the horse," he said. "We worked a case where the suspect was using Dark magic to kidnap people's pets, warp their minds and instincts, and send them back to their owners to attack them. This is based on a picture of me that ran in the Prophet, standing with the horse we rescued in time. Twisted, of course." He flicked the picture once, hard, with his nail and glanced at Draco, as if to see how he would take that.

            "I know these aren't real," Draco said quietly.

            "Did you?" Harry's voice was very distant. "You looked as if you doubted, for a second."

            "You can't read all the truth that matters from my eyes," Draco said, with immense dignity, and then turned back as the pink envelope spoke in Pansy's voice again.

            "These pictures have been sent to the Prophet, as well," she cooed. "As I said, it took me a long time to think of a suitable gift. I hope that you'll forgive me, and understand the reason for the delay. Happy marriage, Draco dear. If you overcome this challenge and still want each other, I'll be very impressed. That naughty Potter, lying to you about his sexual experience." Her voice paused, then chuckled. "And other things he might have."

            The envelope burst into sparks, eliminating the chance that Draco could track it back and find out exactly where Pansy was now. The photographs scattered down to lie on the table.

            His mother picked up the nearest one, the dog one, and looked at it. Harry immediately flushed and scrambled for it. "Mrs. Malfoy," he said in a strained voice. "Please. Don't."

            Narcissa sat back and looked up at Draco. He recognized the set of the lines around her mouth and eyes, and began to smile back.

            "Don't worry, Harry," his mother said, in the kind of voice that Draco knew had made armies stop still in their tracks. "We are going to handle this. You are a member of our family, and no one insults the Malfoys like this."

            Harry looked apprehensively back and forth between them. "You can't kill her," he said a moment later.

            "Of course not," Narcissa agreed.

            "Killing wouldn't make her suffer enough," Draco explained, and looped an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Come, I'll escort you to work. That should prove to anyone who wants to see it that I still support you."

            He caught his mother's eye again on the way out of the dining room. Her faint smile had faded.

            Pansy, darling, Draco thought, his mind a calm, gentle eye in the middle of a churning storm. That was a mistake.

*

            unneeded: Well, if it matters, Laura also sees more of a role for herself than just sitting on the sidelines.

            Anon: Draco would agree to a surrogate, but not a Muggle one.

            SP777: Yes, the confrontation between Harry and the beast might have been the most important bit of the chapter, because it shows Harry that he doesn't have to be helpless in the face of those memories.

            polka dot: Harry already explained to Ian what his relationship was like. If he wants to break up with Harry, he will.

            Night the Storyteller: You're in luck as far as Lucius goes.

            Draco hasn't yet settled enough of the terms of the courtship with Laura, because they were discussing what they would do if they were married, not simply if they had children together.

            Althyida: There's still the children issue. That's the main reason that Draco might want to continue the courtship.
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The Marriage of True Minds