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Changing of the Guard	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 58627 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 34
- 35
- 36
Thank you for all the reviews!

Chapter Thirty-Five�Potter�s
Party

�� Harry
rifled through the letters, then flung them away from him in a burst of temper.
They scattered against the far wall and fell rustling. Harry stared at them,
not moving even when Kreacher appeared abruptly next to him and said, �Master
Harry is needing help?�

�� Harry shook
his head. He didn�t think he could have confessed his intense disappointment
not to have received a letter from Ron or Hermione yet even to Draco, let alone
his house-elf. �Thank you, Kreacher, but no,� he said. �If you�ll just pick up
the letters and put the thicker ones on top?�

�� Kreacher
did so without a grumble, watching him with intense eyes that reminded Harry
uncomfortably of Dobby. He managed to muster a smile, and Kreacher finally
bowed and Apparated away to return to his household chores.

�� Harry ran a
hand over his face, gave one deep sigh, and then began to read through the
thick, important letters. Most of them were from Horace Longbottom�s
correspondents, but a few were people connected to Caroline Garrett who had
heard about her upcoming speech and wanted directions to the estate it would be
presented at. Not many of them said anything about attending the party
afterwards. Harry didn�t care. He had arranged matters with most of the party attendees
already; no one in Nusante�s group was established yet as a traitor, thanks to
the lack of Auror raids at any of the locations Harry had baited. If prominent
names in the wizarding community chose to attend the party itself, either in
genuine support or out of curiosity, they would be welcome, but Harry didn�t
intend to waste time courting them when he would have to break through thick
walls of prejudice in any case. He could only let them know what a movement
like this meant and then leave it to them to make up their own minds.

�� Harry wrote
a standard response to the most similar letters, then tapped his wand against a
pile of blank parchment and cast a replication spell. His writing promptly
spiraled across all of them, reproducing the words. Harry nodded in
satisfaction. Of course, if any two of the recipients compared their letters,
they might feel offended, but he simply had too many other things to do to
waste time writing each one individually.

�� Especially since the party will be tonight.

�� He sat down
in his chair to answer the more complicated letters, murmuring his thanks when
Kreacher brought him a cheese sandwich from which steam was still rising. He
was deep in consideration of the best way to phrase answers to what were more
or less polite versions of the demand: Convince
us to support you. We might, but you have decades of propaganda about the �unnaturalness�
of gay relationships and the declining population to get past.

�� For each
one, Harry chose different wording and whichever of several explanations he
thought might work best, based on either direct knowledge of the person in
question, his knowledge about their reputations, or the way they wrote in their
letters. To concerned members of pure-blood families, he explained that many of
their children didn�t desire to break away from the family altogether, but to
end a deception that was intolerable to them. To the Ministry officials and the
two Wizengamot members who seemed hysterically concerned about declining
numbers of children, he pointed out the long pure-blood habit of having only
one child and the reluctance of many wizarding families to adopt any child not
related to them by blood, ensuring that some Muggleborns left the wizarding
world and others went abroad into more welcoming environments or to distant
relatives. To those investors, inventors, magical theorists, and prominent
Healers who seemed convinced that gay sex led to unhappiness, madness, and
early death, he chose a more personal tone, explaining that the stress came
from mostly from being told that one must hide all the time, and referred to
his own decade-long lie. He hoped those words would reach the Healers, at
least, if not others. They should be well-acquainted with the way that fears of
Dark Arts were often more detrimental to health than the Dark Arts themselves,
especially curses that were rarely used.

�� He leaned
back against his chair and rested for a moment when he�d answered the last
letter, then reached for the sandwich Kreacher had left him. It was cold now,
but he ate it anyway, slowly, trying to enjoy the contrasts of the soft bread
and rather rugged cheese Kreacher favored for making them.

�� This was
exhausting work, and in some ways he wished he could have left this up to
Draco. But Draco had his own preparations to make, and he had agreed,
reluctantly, that the Potter name would command more respect than his,
especially considering his disowning. Instead, he was trying to persuade some
of the pure-blood men and women he knew who had used Metamorphosis or who
sometimes frequented the discreet houses and pubs that catered to gay clients
to step forwards. Their number might be small, but considering the public furor
when Draco had announced he was dating a man, they could cause ripples far beyond
what someone like Nusante could.

�� If Nusante is willing to come at all.

�� Harry grimaced
and rubbed the back of his neck. For the last two days, Nusante had remained as
frustratingly uncommunicative as Ron and Hermione. He had replied to Harry�s declaration
that he would fight with the single sentence, You had better, and then not answered when Harry asked him if he would
attend the party.

�� And Ron and
Hermione�

�� Harry
swallowed the last of the sandwich, ignoring the churning in his stomach. Then
he closed his eyes and slid mentally into the space Horace Longbottom would
occupy, so that he might deal with this situation.

�� I reached out to them. I owled them. They
haven�t responded. Whatever comes next, they have to make the first move. I
have too much to tell them to simply step blindly into their house, at what might
be the worst moment of all. I want to preserve our friendship whilst still dating
Draco, and that means choosing the best moment and meeting them on my own
ground, so that I don�t become intimidated into choosing between Draco and
them.

�� Besides, I�ve had too much to do the past
few days to wait on them.

�� Harry
opened his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. Yes, that would work. He still
felt obscurely that he had betrayed Ron and Hermione by not going to them at
once, or even by coming out at all, but he couldn�t wait forever for their
response. Perhaps they wouldn�t make one, and Harry would need to send another
owl after the party was done. Well, so be it. He wouldn�t let their friendship
die without trying to save it, but he also wouldn�t put reaching out to them
ahead of everything else he had to do.

�� He wasn�t
comfortable, of course. But what about this situation was?

�� Harry rose
to his feet. Draco had worried about what robes he would wear for that night
during their strategy session yesterday, which had made Harry laugh. He�d
pointed out that he probably knew more about fashion than Draco did, since he�d
had to choose clothes as well as faces and histories for his personas.

�� Draco had
paused, stared at him very directly, and said, �But those are what the other
personas wear. What does Harry Potter wear?�

�� Harry had
lowered his gaze and swallowed hard. It comforted him and made him excited that
Draco shared Harry�s perception of the personas as separate people, not mere
reflections of himself.

�� I�ll find
something,� he�d said.

�� You�d
better.� Draco had eyed him meditatively, then reached out and brushed Harry�s
hair back from his face. His need to touch him seemed to have increased over
the past few days, Harry had noticed, as though he were the one who needed
reassurance that Harry wouldn�t vanish behind a wall of denial. �Among all the
roles you�ve got to play, you�re my partner. You can�t show up in just anything.�

��

�� Harry faced
his closet now and put his hand out, running his fingers lightly over the
collars and shoulders of the robes that waited inside. He stopped for a moment
when his fingers brushed over dark blue robes, but no, those were the ones
Brian had worn to the Malfoys� party. He shook his head and moved on.

�� He knew the
ones he wanted when he found them.

*

�� Draco
raised his eyebrows as he looked around at the site that Harry had chosen to
place the party. One of his personas had taste, then, though Draco thought some
of the acquaintances and friends he had convinced to attend would have preferred
a manor house.

�� This was,
instead, a groomed version of the wild garden where Harry had directed Draco
and Caroline Garrett to meet him. The field sprawled across several gentle
hills, with a distant gleam of Muggle lights to the west and south; the
shimmers of Repelling Charms would keep any of them from stumbling close. The
grass was thick but short, a luxuriant green that Draco approved. Small trees
ringed by benches shaded fine paths, both of dirt and of gravel. As small and
regularly-spaced as the trees, ponds caught the light of stars, moon, the fairy
lights and paper lanterns swinging from branches and awnings, and tiny boats
lit with Incandescence Charms and set drifting on their surfaces.

�� The banquet
tables were placed in the middle of the field, between two small hillocks, away
from any of the trees or even large bushes that might have masked the approach
of Aurors. Draco approved that, as well. Harry had a sense of battle strategy,
and had chosen the placement for the tables before Draco could suggest it. Long
benches lined the tables, cleverly constructed to look as much like the
Hogwarts House benches as possible, in hopes of rousing fond sentimental
memories.

�� At the top
of the rectangle formed by the tables glowed a bonfire, carefully and
artistically contained in a ring of glittering quartz stones. Wizards and
witches stood around it already, though it wasn�t yet fully dark and it
certainly wasn�t cold, cradling platters full of food and talking quietly. Now
and then one of them would cast a glance at the wards humming around the edges
of the field, at the stage where Caroline Garrett would stand to give her
speech, or at the circle of brilliant light near the largest gap in the wards,
where Harry stood.

�� Draco came
towards him from the back; he was the only person, as far as he knew, who had
been trusted with the coordinates of an Apparition point within the wards but
not overshaded by them. Still, Harry heard him coming and turned around. Draco
flattered himself a moment by thinking that Harry must have recognized his
footsteps.

�� Then he
halted, literally between one step and the next, and stared at Harry in amazed
admiration.

�� He�d
pulled, from God or Merlin knew where, dark green robes that brought out the
shine of his eyes without striving to match them. They were exquisitely
tailored, too, emphasizing the broadness of his shoulders and the strength of
his arms without being so tight as to seem tawdry or cause for Draco�s
jealousy. The collar was ornamented with a touch of gold that looked stunning
next to his dark hair.

�� Harry
smiled. Draco thought he was the only person there who would have seen a touch
of uncertainty in it.

�� I told you
I knew something about fashion,� Harry said.

�� Draco took
a long step forwards and touched the shoulder of the robes with the edge of his
hand, making sure not to brush Harry�s body with his finger. Harry�s eyes
fluttered shut in pleasure nonetheless, and he turned more fully towards Draco.
His wand remained aimed at the gap in the wards, and Draco was sure Harry could
have reacted at once if any danger had appeared.

�� I wondered,�
Draco said softly, �because when you appeared as a persona, you were always
about achieving a particular effect. And the effect you wanted when you appeared
as Harry Potter was one of weakness, or at least to show people that you weren�t
as impressive as they thought you were. I wondered if you would dare to choose
clothes that make you genuinely handsome, genuinely desirable.� He couldn�t
stop touching the sleeve of the robes, and he couldn�t stop himself from
swaying closer to Harry, who lifted his head and parted his lips as if he were
drinking in some delicious perfume.

�� When it�s
important,� Harry whispered, �I can do that. You don�t have to tell me how much
depends on our success tonight, Draco.�

�� And after
tonight?� Draco moved his hand up and stroked the skin of Harry�s neck. He knew
people were watching. Their eyes didn�t deter him, any more than Garrett�s
amused attention in the garden the other day had. He did want to show how clearly Harry belonged to him, how he wasn�t
available for some other gay man to take to bed or straight witch to try and �convert.�
And a certain amount of public demonstrativeness was probably necessary at this
stage in the game, to show their critics and detractors they weren�t afraid.

�� Bollocks, he thought then. I just like touching him.

�� Of course
I�m fully committed to the struggle now.� Harry was frowning at him, his eyes
clear and steady, as though he doubted Draco�s sanity for questioning him.

�� After tonight,�
Draco said, �will you show yourself as so handsome again? Because you should.
You deserve to wear fine clothes without caring what anyone will think of you
for doing so. You deserve to eat fine food without worrying that the Prophet will castigate you for spending
too much money. You deserve to be happy.�

�� Hedonist,�
Harry murmured, and leaned near enough to press a kiss to Draco�s cheek. Gossip
had already started behind them, and at least one camera flash had exploded.
Draco reveled in the fact that the knowledge of what happened here would no
doubt travel swiftly to Lucius. �I don�t need those all the time to be happy.�

�� But you
need them sometimes,� Draco replied insistently. �Everyone does. Will you let yourself
have them, sometimes?�

�� It may have
to be more than sometimes, if I�m to date you.� Harry raised his eyebrows at
him. �And the answer is yes.�

�� Good,�
Draco said, and moved his hand down Harry�s shoulder to touch the fine material
of his robes again.

�� Harry
swatted his hand away, smiling at him. �You should circulate among our guests,�
he said. �They�re here on my invitation��

�� Mostly.�

�� Harry
inclined his head to admit the truth of that, but didn�t allow any hint of the
truth into his words. �But you�re the one who�ll convince them to stay.� He
turned to face the gap in the wards, which looked out on the only hillock in
the field not enclosed within the protections. �I�m better at the dramatic
gesture. You go use your small talk and your smile and your connections and
your knowledge of politics to win us the numbers and supporters we need.�

�� Draco
smiled. Harry was one of the first people he had ever heard talk about those
things without a slight undertone of contempt; even men like Lucius, to whom
they were weapons of choice, spoke of them as if they were worth less than
wands and open confrontation. Draco didn�t see the reason for open
confrontation if it could be avoided and people persuaded or charmed instead.

�� It was good
to know that Harry shared his opinions, or at least valued Draco�s talent at
these things.

�� I will,� he
said, and brushed the side of Harry�s neck one more time before he moved away,
content to see that Harry turned his chin towards the touch, his eyes falling
half-shut.

*

�� Harry
contented himself with a glance over his shoulder now and then, ostensibly to
check on any disruptions that might have occurred in the party itself. If the
atmosphere was peaceful each time and he took the opportunity to watch the
cautious faces that became relaxed as Draco spoke, the hands that reached out
as if they would touch him when he lingered near, and the laughter he caused
and provoked�soft, sympathetic laughter, not the braying kind that would have
meant the people around him found him ridiculous�that was no one�s business but
Harry�s own.

�� Whenever he
looked beyond the wards again, his magic lifted above him, swirling and beating
like invisible wings. He had cast several spells that should make violence
impossible, but it wasn�t beyond the realm of possibility that someone could
recognize and counter them, especially an experienced Auror. He�d set
trip-wards on the spells, as well, to let him know if anyone even tried to
counter them.

�� His eyes
were in constant motion, sweeping the hills, the field, the tables, the
gatherings of gay wizards and witches and the straight ones who uneasily eyed
the others, the trees, and the isolated benches or conjured chairs where some
people sat as observers. He watched the others who had volunteered for guard
duty, as well. Several of them were Nusante�s friends. Harry thought he could
count on their devotion to the cause. But maybe they would think that their
loyalty to Nusante should come first.

�� He listened
to Caroline Garrett�s speech rather than turning to watch it; he�d had no doubt
she would speak professionally, and she did. She summarized many of the basic
misperceptions of those who were gay or bisexual, including the idea that they
were only in it for the sex and that openly gay activity would ensure the
demise of the British wizarding population, and demolished them with a few
well-chosen words. At points her audience laughed; at others, Harry felt the
intense, listening silence behind him as they leaned forwards to catch the
nuances of her speech. When Garrett stepped down from the stage to move among
her audience and answer their questions on a more personal level, some of Harry�s
tension had dissipated. The number of people won over by purely rational
arguments would be small, because this was such an irrational prejudice, but
those who were present, Garrett would do her best to reach.

�� He felt the
differing motion of the crowd behind him after that, as more people drifted
towards the tables and the center of the field, where a large space of grass
had been trimmed flat and smooth for a dancing floor. Harry smiled when he
glanced over his shoulder and saw a small number of couples standing hand in
hand and looking around in perplexity. They had been promised music, but obviously
saw no musicians.

�� Harry
raised his wand and cast the spell that he had earlier draped over the trees
and time-delayed, to wait for this moment. Quivering lines of blue and silver
flashed through the dusk for a moment, and then released the contained Weird
Sisters tune, a song appropriately called �Pride and Honor.� Laughter and
cheering started when the waiting dancers recognized the notes, and Harry heard
some of them begin to spin, clap their hands, and stamp their feet in time with
the beat.

�� He
triggered the second part of the spell with a small downwards motion, and
voices began to sing the lyrics. The beginning was simply a high cry of �Pri-ii-iii-de!�
that reverberated over the noise of voices and bodies. Harry couldn�t resist
the urge; he turned around and watched the people of the rebellion, his people, to see what they would make
of it.

�� The edge of
the dance floor nearest him hosted a lesbian couple who were whirling around
each other, matching not the current pace of the song but one which would pick
up in a few moments. They both wore golden robes, and the robes mingled at the
edges, as did their flowing, unbound hair, though one was a redhead and one was
dark. Then the dark one leaned in and began to openly kiss the redhead, a sight
Harry couldn�t imagine taking place in any other gathering in wizarding Britain
right now. Even the establishments devoted to the satisfaction of gay and
lesbian tastes had a furtive atmosphere about them, as though they existed only
for sex; dancing would be too open, too hard to disguise, whilst if Aurors or strangers
suddenly appeared, sitting or standing patrons could pretend to be talking to each
other as friends only.

�� The redhead
wound her arms around the dark-haired witch�s neck and kissed her more
passionately, causing them to lose their place in the dance. That hardly
mattered. Other people were beginning to dance if an observer cared about that,
and Harry was as happy to see openness and eagerness as he was a polished performance.

�� We�ve had to give performances all our
lives, he thought, straining his neck to catch a glimpse of Draco�s pale
hair. He was dancing in the middle of the floor, but by himself, which soothed
a jealousy Harry hadn�t realized he was beginning to feel. As good little sons and daughters, as people interested in the opposite
sex and marriage and babies and nothing else. This is freedom. Freedom we had to create, temporary freedom, but it�s
the more precious for that. And they�re not going to take it away from us.

�� Harry felt
his soul blazing with something he could have called contentment, though it
felt fiercer than that. It wasn�t joy, because it had its tinge of anger, and
Harry thought joy should be pure.

�� Pride of
his own, maybe. Commitment to upholding that pride no matter what happened,
what came next.

�� This is what starts a revolution, he
thought. Not declarations made in the
heat of the moment. Seeing what it can accomplish, getting a hint of the way
things can change, and falling in love with that vision.

�� A movement
outside the wards alerted Harry. With reluctance, he removed his eyes from the
dancing figures and turned to face the hills again.

�� Nusante
stood staring at him, his hands clenched into fists.

�� Harry
blinked. He had expected Nusante not to appear when he hadn�t done it by the
time Garrett began to give her speech. But he was still welcome. Harry nodded slightly
and stepped out of the way so he could pass.

�� Nusante
didn�t move. Instead, with a quick, shaky voice that told Harry how frightened
he was without the need for any deep reading into his character, he snapped, �I
want you to know that I still intend to be important in this rebellion.�

�� I know
that,� Harry said.

�� You can�t
take my place,� Nusante said. �Either of you.� His eyes flickered to Harry�s side
as if he expected to see Draco standing there. Harry was pleased with his look
of faint surprise when he realized Draco was elsewhere. He wanted other people
realize that they were united, partners, no matter where they were.

�� We didn�t
want to try,� Harry said. �What I think you should realize is that Draco�s case
and his financial contributions are a source of publicity at the moment, and so
is Harry Potter�s outing. Wouldn�t it be better to accept that than to worry
about whose name is on people�s tongues?�

�� It�s not
that simple,� Nusante snarled. �Movements can collapse or falter depending on
who leads them, and who�s perceived to be leading them.�

�� I know
that,� Harry repeated. �What I won�t allow you is to destroy this�� he gestured
over his shoulder to the party again ��because you�re jealous of fame I never
wanted in the first place, or a plan Draco succeeded in because of pure courage.�

�� Nusante�s
eyes followed Harry�s hand. A moment later, his face softened. He opened his
mouth as if he would reply, then shut it again. His expression had settled into
a marrow-deep yearning Harry understood all too well. These were his companions,
his friends, his natural kindred, and he longed to be among them.

�� I
understand,� Nusante whispered. �That you achieved this is a good beginning.�
He turned back with such a quick movement Harry heard his neck pop, and added, �But
it�s not good enough, not enough to excuse ten years of hiding and lying. You
have a lot to make up for.�

�� Harry
dipped his head slightly. He was sure Draco would disagree, but he could
understand Nusante�s words with the part of him that was most Gryffindor. He did owe a debt. He might not want his
fame, but he could have done good things with it if he had acted immediately
after he killed Voldemort. It would be harder now, and with the vision of
freedom burning in his blood, he had to regret not making it easier for
himself, never mind other people.

�� I�ll try,�
he said.

�� Nusante
stepped past him without another word. Harry watched him go for a moment, then
turned as he heard a second pop of
Apparition.

�� Lucius
Malfoy stood staring at him.

�� Harry felt
a moment of dull, hammering panic. Then he remembered that this man had
disowned Draco, and that Draco was fully committed to war with his father, if
he had to be, in order to eventually get what he wanted most in the world.

�� Harry
grinned and jerked his thumb back towards the party. �You�re welcome to go in,�
he said in a normal tone, then lowered his voice conspiratorially for the next
words. �But I think I should warn you: there are men kissing in there.�

�� He waited
for Lucius�s response, confident in a way he hadn�t felt in twelve years, since
the moment immediately after Voldemort had crumpled to the ground, waiting for
his opponent�s attack and unafraid.

�� A voice
spoke softly, shyly, in the back of his mind.

�� I think I could like being this Harry
Potter.

*

�� qwerty: Don�t
worry! You get a hint of Lucius�s plan in Chapter 36.

�� Lunatic
with a hero complex: Thank you! I hope the party (which will continue for at
least one more chapter, and possibly two more) is up to expectations.

�� SoftObsidian74:
It�s largely because of Draco that Harry is finding himself right now, I think.
He never would have had the courage to come out if he�d not been with a partner
who demanded it. Of course, Harry is moving beyond Draco, as well, moving out
of his shadow.

�� Harry is on
a collision course with Lucius right now. No way to tell yet about Ron and
Hermione.

�� 70_Sol_Laen:
Thank you! I like the way it�s developed as well; while the original concept
was a fun story idea, it was always meant to tie into the larger picture Harry
was enabling/ignoring.

�� Broomrider949,
Nigellica, FallenAngel1129, Caldonya: Thanks for reviewing!

�� Christabell:
Harry�s not ready to abandon the idea of personas yet, and probably never will
be. But he�s coming to see that the �real� him is worthy of respect and
admiration as well. And thank you for the congratulations!

�� Mangacat:
Nusante is not ready to stop being an ass yet. He�d better pray Draco doesn�t
read that letter or hear him talking to Harry.

�� Alix: Thank
you! I understand the criticism, but at the moment, affection of any kind in
public is so new to Harry and Draco that I think they�ll go overboard. Draco
also did want to test Garrett, a bit, to see if she would complain about
things; if she had, she wouldn�t be a good ally.

�� Yume111:
Harry is affected by Nusante because he does agree with him, in a sort of
self-sacrificing Gryffindor way. But he won�t try to go overboard the way he
might have if he were only feeling guilt, and give Nusante everything he wants no matter how ridiculous. Draco won�t let him,
for one thing.

�� Draco is
very much attracted to power. This is another kind of power. Before, while
Harry radiated it, Draco could tell that he was partially distant, especially
in their first bout of lovemaking. He wants to find out what it�ll be like when
Harry�s not hiding, and not in need of comfort either. Draco always wants to
try something new. ;)

�� SP777: I�ve
never been in anything like Harry�s or Draco�s exact situation, no. I can
remember coming out to my parents and how terrified and sick I was then,
though.

No rallies; I�m drawing off
reading/empathy for that.

�� arsenicLace:
Thank you! The summary is a little misleading, I think, but there�s only so
much AFF will let you put in it.

�� arealdeal:
Thank you so much! I think it helps that I�ve spent a long time creating this
story in my head and playing around with different scenarios, so I feel I know
exactly how the characters will react to many possible situations.

��
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Changing of the Guard