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Practicing Liars	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 63257 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
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Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter
Thirty-Five�The Pain Begins

�� Did they
insult you?� Draco�s hand was light and steady in Harry�s hair, and Harry
pressed close to him, although he�d been standing here getting his hair stroked
for at least six minutes. That ought to be long enough for any person who
wasn�t weak, he thought.

�� Then he
remembered that sometimes he had held Draco and stroked his hair for longer
than that, and got confused, because he didn�t think Draco was weak.

�� Harry?� Draco�s
voice had a strange, gentle sharpness to it, as if he wanted to make sure that
Harry didn�t forget about eating a piece of treacle tart left on his plate.
�Did they insult you? What did they say?�

�� Harry took
a deep breath and lifted his head. He had come to Draco in the library with no
words, but a face that had made Draco immediately take him deep into the
dungeons, to an alcove where apparently no one came. And since then, they�d
been standing here while Draco soothed him and asked questions that Harry
hadn�t answered. Draco probably thought that the meeting with Ron and Hermione
had gone a lot worse than it had.

�� That isn�t fair, Harry thought, wiping
at his face, although he still hadn�t cried. Not fair to Draco, to make him worry that much, and not fair to Ron and
Hermione. They weren�t that bad.

�� So why do I still feel like I did when I
found out that Dad�James�acted like Dudley in school?

�� No matter
what it is,� Draco said, his voice so soft and deep it seemed to come out of
the earth, �you can tell me what happened.�

�� I know,�
Harry said. He decided to just talk, without trying to choose his words, unless
Draco started reacting badly and thinking things about Ron and Hermione that
weren�t true. Harry still wanted to be fair to everyone, if he could. �It
wasn�t awful. That�s the strange
thing. Ron told me that he thought I was a stranger now, and that hurt.
Hermione didn�t want me to date you because you called her a Mudblood. She
wanted me to break up with you. Ron thought it was horrible that Snape was my
father. But neither of them called me a traitor or hexed me or told me they
wouldn�t be my friend. So I don�t know why I feel this bad.�

�� I do,�
Draco said, again in that low voice. �How dare
Weasley think that you were a stranger to him because Professor Snape was
your father? What did he think you were going to do, suddenly grow a Slytherin
tie and a talent for potions? Or start looking like him? If you haven�t by now,
you probably won�t.�

�� Harry
shifted uneasily in place, but he still wasn�t ready to tell anyone about the
glamour, so he didn�t mention it now. �I reckon he thought that because
family�s important to him,� he whispered. �He wants to be different from his
brothers, but he would be lonely if he wasn�t also like them. And he thought of me as the son of heroes. Now I�m the
son of a hero and a Death Eater. He isn�t going to deal well with that.�

�� How
ridiculous,� Draco said, scorn dripping from every word. �As if the way you
were born matters, when Professor
Snape didn�t raise you.�

�� Harry
paused and blinked, then stepped back enough so he could stare into Draco�s
eyes. �Why are you saying that?
You�ve always thought blood was important, too. You didn�t want Hermione in
school because of her blood. You despise Ron because of his blood. So why are you saying that it doesn�t matter who my
father is? Of all the people I know, I�d think it would matter to you the
most.�

*

�� Draco
sighed. He had hoped that he wouldn�t have to talk about this with anyone until
he had the right words to understand it for himself.

�� But he had
some of the thoughts, and that would have to be enough.

�� I�ve been
thinking,� he said, slowly and painfully. The image of his father�s head
hovering in front of him and speaking those words, the Dark Lord�s words, still
hung before his eyes like a mist if he concentrated too much on it. �I�m not
completely what my father raised me to be. I�m not completely like my mother,
either. I�ve been visiting her since she went into the safehouse, and writing
to her, and she thinks differently than
I do. I didn�t realize how differently.�

�� Harry�s
hand cupped the back of his head, and stroked as gently through his hair as
Draco had been stroking his a minute ago. Draco leaned against him and closed
his eyes with a sigh. He�s so good at
comforting. Does he know that? But he probably does, since he takes to it so
naturally.

�� Draco
reminded himself not to get too deep in the comfort even as he reveled in it
for being there. He didn�t want to forget what Harry�s friends had said, or
that Harry was suffering and needed him, too.

�� What do
you mean?� Harry asked.

�� She talks
about vengeance,� Draco whispered. �For what was done to her. For what was done
to Father. For Father serving the Dark Lord in the first place, even though he
chose that. And I�I talk about living. I�m sorry that Father died, and I hope
that you kill the Dark Lord, but I think more about missing him and the ways he
would disapprove of what I�m doing now, and I think about you and Horcruxes and
Professor Snape and what I�m going to do if I survive the school year. That
kind of thing.�

�� He took a
deep breath and licked his lips. These weren�t the right words. The right words
would be eloquent and warm and make Harry see the truth and be able to
reconcile the past and the present. But they were the words he had.

�� So,� he
said, �if blood isn�t the only thing that made me, and I can be different from my parents, and I�m separate from
the rest of the family, then that can happen to other people, too. You can be
separate from your family. Weasley can be separate from his�but I don�t think
he is,� he added quickly, before Harry could use those words to try and force
him and the Weasel into some kind of reconciliation. �And Granger can be
separate from hers, even. Weasley should at least let you have some time to
prove that you act like Professor Snape or that you don�t before he decides
that you�re your blood and nothing more.�

�� Harry drew
Draco�s head back. Draco squeaked. Had he said something wrong? He�d thought it
had been going so well, but Harry was pulling on his hair like he was angry�

�� Then Draco
discovered that Harry had only been getting his head into position so that he
could kiss him.

�� Extremely
thoroughly. Hard and passionately and leaning in so much that Draco thought
they were going to fall over any minute. With lots of tongue�not that Draco
objected to that when he was able to breathe around it�but it was noticeable because,
um, Harry had never used this much
before.

�� Then they
did fall, and Draco had the breath driven out of him when they landed on the
hard stone floor. Harry laughed happily above him and dragged him up to his
knees, then dropped down to his knees
in front of Draco and held his shoulders, staring searchingly into his eyes.

�� I just�I love you,� Harry said. �You know that,
don�t you?�

�� Draco
blinked and stared at him. His chest hurt.

�� Harry
laughed aloud and kissed him again, bearing him down to the floor with his
body. Draco felt his hair brush stone, and knew they had to be close to one of
the alcove�s walls, but he hardly cared. Oh, his knees ached and his head ached
and his lungs ached but he didn�t care,
because Harry�s words were in his brain like fireworks in his eyes.

�� Harry�s
tongue slipped deeper. His hands clenched on Draco�s sides, and he whispered
into Draco�s mouth, during one of the brief times that he pulled back to
breathe or at least do something other than kiss, �You made me feel better, and
I�m not sure how you did that, but maybe it was just because your words were
more real than Ron�s. Thank you.� Then he was kissing Draco again.

�� Draco knew
he would cherish that private triumph over the Weasel forever.

�� But he
would cherish the way Harry was kissing him and licking him and almost
slobbering into his mouth for longer.

*

�� Severus
narrowed his eyes. No one else would have noticed it, because no one else would
have looked. Everyone was used to seeing Granger and Weasley sitting tightly
beside Harry, linked to him by invisible threads that nothing could break. And,
indeed, they were still sitting beside Harry during dinner and other meals in
the Great Hall.

�� But now,
there was a slight but definite distance between them.

�� The three
still sat together in his Defense classroom. They still spoke together. They
still acted as though no one in the world was important but the three of
them�an attitude that Severus thought was responsible for his son not having
more friends. But the distance was there, in the way Granger�s and Weasley�s
voices would suddenly break off in the middle of a word or how they shifted
when Harry sat down.

�� None of
that told Severus how well the confrontation had gone. Draco was glaring at
Granger and Weasley, but he did that often in any case when he wanted a glance
from Harry and they were dominating his attention. Severus did not know if he
was unusually angry.

�� He tried to
rely on the signals from Granger and Weasley towards him, wondering if that would tell him something. Weasley refused to
look him in the eye, but that had been true since last year; Severus thought it
was because Weasley had discovered he was a Legilimens. Granger perhaps had a
bit more of frozen politeness and less eagerness to answer questions in her
manner than usual.

�� Perhaps.

�� By the time
Harry came to him, Draco walking at his side like a golden shadow, one evening,
Severus was nearly mad with impatience.

�� Well?� he
asked at last, when Harry was examining the vial of Entwining Potion on his
desk. His voice snapped. He did not mean to make it do that. But it had
happened before he could stop it, and at least it made Harry look up at him
with an expression of honest surprise instead of the careful mask of normality
that he seemed to wear when around Granger and Weasley.

�� Well,
what?� Harry asked.

�� You spoke
of me to your friends,� Severus said. �How did they take it?�

�� Not well,�
said Harry. His face started to close again, but Draco put his hand on the
small of Harry�s back, and Harry relaxed. Severus felt a fierce ache of
jealousy, like a bee-sting on the roof of his mouth. He wanted to touch his son
that casually, and for Harry to allow it instead of flinching when he lifted
his hand. �Not Ron, at least. I think Hermione can live with it. But Ron thinks
it makes me into a stranger.�

�� Severus
could not entirely argue with that perception. After all, learning the truth
had been the reason that he was able to see Harry differently from James Potter.
Of course, he was adult enough to know that one�s own perceptions, ideals, and
preconceptions colored what one saw, and he did not think Weasley was. To
Weasley, if he began encountering strangeness in Harry, it would be something
that had always been there, but was �concealed� by �heroic blood.�

�� It is not. He is my son.

�� Severus
shook his head to rid himself of the agonizingly possessive thought; it was not
one that it would do any good to express to Harry at the moment. He said, �You
are only a stranger to your friends if you wish to be.�

�� Harry
glared at him as if he had said
something about how Weasley was a fool for ever thinking of Harry as Potter�s
son. �That�s easy to say,� he said. �But I can�t actually choose how they
react, and I can�t choose how their reactions affect me.�

�� Severus
opened his mouth to argue against that�after all, he could have chosen to
become a pathetic weakling before the bullying of James Potter or he could have
chosen to fight back, as he had�but Draco interrupted, perhaps feeling Harry�s
tension through the hand still on his back. �Shouldn�t we talk about the
Entwining Potion, Professor Snape? You said that you�d tested it, and that it
worked at all times.�

�� It did,�
Severus said, grateful to Draco for the distraction and irritated that he had
let himself almost get into a row with Harry over something as small as a
matter of wording. He turned towards the vial and lifted it. The finished
potion had a shifting, red-gold glow, like light reflecting off the scales of a
Chinese Fireball. �I have two vials of this. We will test this one first. Then
we will begin with the second when we make sure that this has worked.�

�� Harry
stared at him. �How are we going to test it?
After all, if the first vial pulls the piece of his soul out of me, then that
means we�ve solved the problem.�

�� Severus
shook his head. �It still requires testing. Because it works on a rat does not
mean it will work on a human; it only means that I feel no disastrous
consequences will occur if it is fed to one.�

�� Oh,
thanks,� Harry muttered, sticking his hands in his robe pockets. �That makes me
feel worlds better.�

�� Severus
could not help himself this time. He moved near so rapidly that Harry did not
have time to retreat, and bent down to his eye level. �Do you still distrust me
this much?� he asked quietly. �Trust to my brewing skill if not to
my�perception of you.� He thought Harry would laugh if he mentioned the words
�relationship� or �compassion.� �I would not offer you this potion unless I
thought it was perfectly safe.�

�� Harry
glared at him. �People do things all the time that won�t kill me,� he said,
lips barely parted, so that the words hissed out. �But they hurt me. It�s bad enough to know that
I�m going to have to suffer through having this Horcrux torn out of my body.
But that something else could happen, too, which might not kill me but could
make me wish I hadn�t got out of bed this morning? Yeah, I�m not looking
forwards to that.�

�� Severus
narrowed his eyes. See what you have
wrought, Albus. He can trust someone enough to undergo an ordeal of torture,
but not to believe in their words.

�� I won�t
let that happen,� Draco whispered to him. He looked up at Severus. �Won�t you
test the potion on me first, Professor Snape? That way, Harry can see there�s
nothing to be afraid of.� His hand on Harry�s back began to rub soothing
circles.

�� Noble as
Draco was�and for the first time, Severus acknowledged that he deserved that
adjective�he had misjudged Harry. Harry gave him a stiff glance. �I won�t let
you get hurt because of me,� he said. From his expression, Severus thought he
hadn�t liked the crack about being afraid, either.

�� No,�
Severus said. Draco�s expression began to become unyielding, but Severus had
reasons for his denial, reasons that Draco would listen to because of his
knowledge of Potions, and he spoke them. �You have no Horcrux within you. The
potion would have nothing to fasten to, and we would not know if it worked or
not.�

�� He turned
to Harry. �There are other reasons to test the potion. It may contain
ingredients to which you are allergic, in which case I will need to design it
again. And if there is suffering it causes that can be mitigated without
sacrificing the potion�s effect, this dose will tell me, so that I may modify
the next draught before you take it to banish the Horcrux.�

�� Harry had
hunched his shoulders, and his eyes flickered back and forth between Severus
and the vial in his hand. �It�s not as powerful as the second one will be?� he
asked.

�� No,�
Severus said. �Or the third, if it turns out that I need to redesign the potion
and so the second dose becomes the true test.�

�� Harry
stared at the potion with silent eyes, and a silent face. It was one of the few
times Severus truly had not been able to tell what he was thinking. All those
times, he realized suddenly, had occurred either after he had learned Harry was
his son or shortly before. Harry was different from the boy he had been when he
was younger, and part of that difference was learning to mask some of his emotions.

�� Talk to me, Severus thought, but he was
not foolish enough to make the demand aloud.

�� Harry
finally inclined his head, shivered a bit as though he was considering jumping
off a cliff, and then said, �All right. I�ll take it.�

�� As Severus
settled Harry into the chair he had prepared and put Draco beside him to watch
his face closely and tell him if there was any immediate allergic reaction to
the potion, he tried to catch Harry�s eye, to see what he was thinking. He
wanted to know the reason behind Harry�s final decision.

�� Harry
didn�t look at him, and Severus resigned himself at last to his own advice. As he must learn to trust me without
demanding a complete explanation for everything I do, I must learn the same.

�� That did
not make the experience less bitter, or his rage against Dumbledore and the
Muggles who had raised Harry less deep.

*

�� Harry shut
his eyes when he felt the glass of the potion vial against his lips. His hands
were clenched at his sides, and he wished he had asked Snape for more details,
even though it would have made him lie awake at night worrying about them. He
wished he knew how much this was
going to hurt. At least being in his cupboard and even fighting Voldemort were
all experiences he�d got used to.

�� But this
was entirely new.

�� He really
thought he might have flown out of the chair if not for Draco�s calm�well,
mostly calm�presence at his side.

�� In the end,
it was that that did the most good. He thought, Draco will panic if he sees you panicking, and the reminder that
someone else depended on him, that his reactions didn�t affect only him, made
him concentrate on the present instead of the future.

�� Then the
pain began, and the future became the
present.

�� The pain
lit a fire in his belly. Then it seemed to be chewing holes in his feet. Then
his jaw ached as though it was broken. Then a thin wire seemed to pass in
through one ear and out through the other.

�� Harry could
feel the tears leaking through the corners of his eyes. But he didn�t want to
scream, so he kept quiet as long as he could. When he did have to release the
pain, it was in a series of low whimpers at first, which began building up as
he forgot more and more about Draco and concentrated more and more on what he
was feeling.

�� Sir, I
think something�s really wrong,� he heard Draco�s voice say from a distance. He
thought it was alarmed, but he seemed to have lost all possibility of
distinguishing people�s emotions other than his own.

�� The pain
filled the world.

�� Has he��
Snape.

�� No. None
of the things you mentioned. But he�s�look
at his face, sir.� Draco.

�� I cannot
believe that he could endure that much without screaming.�

�� Come
closer and look at his expression, and you might see that screaming isn�t the
only way to show pain.�

�� Harry lost
track of who was speaking first, and then of the voices. The pain in his gut
was so severe that it felt as if his stomach had burst open. There were acids
in the stomach, weren�t there? And they could be inflicted on other organs,
that would melt, and maybe it would feel something like this.

�� He felt a
hand on his. Something about it, maybe the length of the fingers and the nails,
made him pay attention to it even in the midst of his agony. He forced open his
hazy eyes and looked to see who was holding his hand.

�� Snape.

�� Harry
stared at him wordlessly. That Snape would hold his hand, to try to comfort him
or anything else, was absurd, so that meant it wasn�t happening. His brain had
probably made this up and it was a delusion.

�� It hurts,�
Snape said. �I know that.� His voice was soft and urgent, and why could Harry hear it so clearly? His
own screams ought to be louder than that. �But it hurts because it is parting
your soul from another�s soul, and it is touching the familiar and unfamiliar
parts both at once. Can you bear it? You will need to bear it when the second
potion comes.�

�� I�ll have to do this again.

�� Harry
flinched, a whole-body flinch of the kind that he would have tried to hide from
Snape if he could, and pulled his hand away. He couldn�t escape the pain, he
knew, but he wanted to curl up and hide. That would be for the best.

�� Someone was
holding his shoulder�Draco��and Snape
caught his hand again. �I am sorry for this,� he said.

�� Yeah, well, that didn�t keep you from doing
it. Harry gritted his teeth, and then screamed, because it felt as though
they were all being ripped from his head.

�� Only a few
moments now,� Snape murmured. He didn�t sound upset that Harry had pulled away
from him, though Harry would have expected him to be if his motives were
genuine. �I am sorry for this,� he repeated.

�� Harry
stared at him, blinking stupidly. What he
says can�t be true.

�� Then the
pain was gone. Harry exhaled and stretched his arms out to either side, feeling
for it. But no, it was really gone.

�� He would
have sobbed with relief, but he was remembering some things now, like the way
he had cried in front of Snape. He tried to duck his head and shield his face
with his arm, or shove himself back in the chair�he couldn�t get out of it
since Draco was on one side and Snape was in front of him�or do something that would shield him and let
all of them pretend that this had never happened.

�� Then Snape
hauled him forwards.

�� Harry
flinched, but by that time, Snape had him firmly in his arms, holding his body
still as he extended one arm. Harry felt something soft and cool rubbed into
it, probably a potion. The ache still in his muscles subsided.

�� After that,
he held out his other limbs willingly, especially when Draco came to help hold
him, but he ducked his head and shook it wildly when Snape tried to press
another potions vial between his lips.

�� This is a
Dreamless Sleep Potion,� Snape said, voice absolutely calm. �Nothing more than
that.�

�� It was the
calmness that made Harry open his mouth and allow the potion in. Kindness would
have been too much, and he would have done anything rather than endure the
mockery he�d thought Snape would aim at him.

�� The potion
was thick and cold, half-sweet and blessedly familiar from the times that Madam
Pomfrey had used it on him in the hospital wing. Harry sighed and went limp.

�� Two
thoughts accompanied him into the darkness.

�� The first
one was: He said he was sorry. Twice,
even.

�� The second
one was: The next time is going to be
worse.

*

�� k lave
demo: Thanks! Harry could have chosen more accepting friends, but on the other
hand, Ron and Hermione did accept him
when they were eleven. He couldn�t have known that he would change like this.

�� PG: Hee! I
think Ron is a bit thick emotionally, though not really stupid. This revelation
is something he never expected, so it will take a while to sink in.

�� I think there
are probably ten or so chapters left. Maybe eleven or twelve.

�� I�m sorry,
but I don�t think I could do Fenrir and Harry unless it was a fairy tale kind
of vibe. I�m really not into writing non-con, and I can�t see Fenrir as a good
character.

�� Dracos Pet:
Thank you! I�m really glad that you like the story, and that captcha is
hilarious.

�� polka dot: If
he�d been hiding these secrets all along, I could see that, but these are both
recent developments. Ron and Hermione were still good and loyal friends for
five years.

�� MewMew2:
Glad you liked that line.

�� Sneakyfox:
That�s a really interesting perception. Of course, Ron is wrong to tie all the
secrets that Harry�s keeping to his blood rather than to what he�s experienced
during his life.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Hermione would have been if it had been someone, even a boy, who hadn�t
insulted her and wished she would die.

�� Mr. Galion:
I would have warned for character death if any of the three main characters
were going to die.

�� SP777:
Harry was really in shock more than he was trying to hang onto his calm. But he
is more mature than he was at the start of the story, as his attempt to
understand Dumbledore proved, so he�s trying to understand Ron and Hermione,
too.

�� Oh, I don�t
think Harry�s friendship with Ron and Hermione would have endured long without
their shared experiences (like killing the troll). But since those have
happened, it really is an unbreakable bond, at least while they�re this young,
and that�s why I�m trying to show that Harry resents the way they�re acting but
still wants them as friends.

�� KienaBeana:
Thanks! I don�t think any character is a total waste here except Voldemort (and
maybe Bellatrix), so I am trying to do some justice to them.

�� anciie: He
was in shock, though he didn�t recognize the feeling.

�� And there�s
no telling what Dumbledore was talking about, unless you�ve been following a
certain thread in the story more closely than I think most people have.

�� ladyicondraco:
It will take a while, but not forever. ;)

�� DTDY: Doesn�t
it?
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Practicing Liars