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The Echoes Of Yesterday	By : Samaelthekind Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 17654 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
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Chapter 36: Foreshadowing

Draco sat in Prewett's office, waiting quietly for the tea to finish. He could almost feel the question coming before it was asked. The incident with the mirror still loomed in his memory, now that he was free of its influence, and it mortified him that he'd been so easily gulled by an encounter with a magical artifact.
He'd visited other landmarks of his father's time at Hogwarts. Walked the Quidditch Pitch and even soared above it alone on a borrowed broom. He'd found Moaning Myrtle…and extracted from her, between tearful sobs, the story of his father's nearly mortal injury at Potter's hands. He'd even found the aerie where his father had watched while Severus Snape killed Albus Dumbledore.
But the finding of the mirror…that had been his downfall. He'd only used his freetime gainfully the past weeks, surpassing all expectations, until he'd stumbled onto that storage chamber and pulled away the cloth that covered the mirror's face. In truth…he'd seen other things at first, equally desirable. His parents…alive and beaming with love…overjoyed to see him. And then he'd seen Harry…not broken with grief or enraged past the point of reason…but serious, sober, kind and warm…looking at him with the kind of smoldering hunger that he'd only read of in one book. A book he didn't dare share with anyone for fear that it would be plucked from his grasp and leave him alone.
John Prewett sat down across from him and handed over a cup of tea, still piping hot, then settled comfortable into his preferred chair.
"Well…you've had some adventures, haven't you! We'd only just sorted out some difficult things…and you managed to stumble onto one of Hogwarts fine old legacies! Stop looking so glum, lad! You aren't the first to be pulled into that mirror's influence…not by a long shot! You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to…but I think by now you know I wouldn't think ill of you for sharing anything with me in honesty."
Draco stared into his tea without enthusiasm. In the day since that embarrassing interruption he'd alternately dreaded and hungered to speak of what he'd seen…but it wasn't Prewett he wanted to voice his feelings to with such candor. Since then he'd felt a malaise come over him…sapping his will and enthusiasm except for what he'd briefly brushed against in the mirror's surface.
"Master Prewett…the mirror…did the mirror really show me…the truth about what I desire most? It couldn't be wrong, could it? It really only shows what the looker feels and wants? It has no power to actually deceive or dissemble, correct?"
John Prewett felt a fragility in Draco's careful question, something that hinted at great discomfort with what Draco had seen and experienced. It seemed right to answer with a similar caution…to reassure Draco that, no matter what he'd encountered, it wasn't something that couldn't be spoken of at all.
"That's largely correct…yes. It shows only the reflection of the desires of those who gaze into it…but do try to understand that desire is a fickle thing. People can want all kinds of things, and want them dearly, and then find that their desires are quite changed in a surprisingly short time. In some of the stories I read about the mirror years ago…there was said to have been a man who visited the mirror each year, saw what he desired, pursued that goal each year, and yet saw another desire entirely each year he returned. That's more of a statement about people in general than about the mirror, but I'm just saying that if you saw something discomforting, you needn't fear that it is written in stone."
Draco sighed and finally sipped the tea. "Thank you. It doesn't change the basic truth. I saw what I currently desire most. It was real in that sense. That was what was inside me…and it was only made visible by the mirror."
"Well…in some…" Prewett had meant to finish a few thoughts on the subject, but Draco blurted something out before he could go any further.
"Harry. I saw him in the mirror. Not as a professor…not as a friend. As a lover who desired me. That is what I saw."
Prewett wasn't entirely shocked by the information…he was only surprised that Draco had volunteered it so easily! For a moment he wasn't entirely sure what to say. When Draco suddenly looked appalled by the silence and appeared ready to jump up and run away, John gathered his wits and disarmed the situation as best he could. It was a fine step forward in getting the lad to speak honestly about his feelings, and it was a matter that needed addressing as well.
"It took courage to say that. Don't leave. You have nothing to be ashamed of…in any respect. Not falling prey to the mirror, and not for feeling something for Harry. You've shown great candor and uncommon honesty…and I wouldn't disrespect that by speaking to you like a child or barking commands about what you ought to think or feel. This needed speaking of."
Draco eased back into his seat, eyes wide and showing incredulity. "You mean this? You…you already know of what I…" He couldn't quite bring himself to say it again so soon. It had been more of an unexpected outburst before.
"Yes. You aren't inscrutable or veiled in secrecy, Draco. I'm not blind to what's been unfolding…and I saw it emerging before we began our counseling, so don't think I've gleaned this knowledge because of something you let slip here. I've seen how intense your emotions can be when it comes to Professor Potter. For all his faults, he's a good person. He tries where others often refuse to place their efforts. A person, any person, would be hard pressed to dislike him…that's why so many people show such loyalty to him, in spite of his occasional failings. It wouldn't be exaggerating to say that a great many people love him…without conditions or expectations. I say this because…you may expect something from him that he can't give…and a number of us have grown rather fond of you. No one wants to see you hurt…but…"
Draco had sat listening raptly, then blushed a furious scarlet at the frank conversation about his wants. "It isn't something he can't give. You're wrong. He could…if he wanted to. He just…he…he won't. Not can't…won't. Not for me."
There was anger and frustration in his tone…and John heard it as plain as day. Draco was a minefield of prickly emotions he wasn't adept at handling…and this was happening somewhat faster than he'd imagined. He'd envisioned having to coax Draco to this point, but the mirror seemed to have pushed Draco to acknowledge his feelings far faster than any lengthy series of conversations ever could have.
"Perhaps. You may be right. Do you have any thoughts on why he wouldn't? Any grasp of the reasons he'd give you? There is some merit to Professor Potter's feelings on the matter. He is, after all, the other party in this. His feeling are as valid as your own. I hope you can accept that the opinions the two of you have about this state of affairs are irreconcilable."
Draco sighed and slid into an almost uncharacteristic slump. It was common enough for other teenagers, but this young man had an aristocratic bearing and a sense of self discipline that was exceptional. It spoke volumes that he'd let his posture lapse so openly. The hushed voice when he answered also hinted at a sense of hopelessness that John found a little worrisome.
"I know. He does not feel what I feel. He is too old. I am too young. I became a student and it would be inappropriate. People would say terrible things if such a thing came to light. Those things, all of them, are irrelevant, Master Prewett. They really are…to me. But there is a reason that I cannot change, or dispute. He…he belongs to my father. In his heart. I can see it. We spoke…a little. Much was implied. He forgot nothing…even though I came here thinking he might have. I am a poor copy, at best. I can't…I cannot…be…what he wants. If he looked into that mirror…I am not what he would see. It would always be my father. I wondered why he never solved my parents case as an Auror…and now I know what came of that. That he would do that…live with that…even after all that had passed…even after I was born…I…a living testament to what he'd lost? Is it so wrong, that I would want him? I know how deeply he cares for others, and even if he isn't what I had imagined him to be before coming here…in some ways he is more. More human, more real, more alive. Not some memory or legend written of in a book. If I had known…that I would cause him so much distress…I think I would never have come here. None of this is what I intended."
"You did want to meet him, though. You insisted upon it quite fiercely at the time. He is the foremost Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor in the world at present…and probably one of the better ones in the history of the school and possibly the world as well. There's no shame in perhaps mistaking the legend for the man. Our Professor Potter earned his reputation…but not without cost to himself. I won't scold you for looking on him with admiration or affection…but I'm glad you can see that, owed to his experiences, he isn't in any way suited for a relationship beyond friendship. It's good to see that you see it for yourself, though. It shows a clearer mind than many…"
John Prewett's voice trailed off when he noticed the glazed expression that come over Draco. His own magical senses began to tingle with the realization that something was very, very off. Draco sat, suddenly slack jawed , then seemed to be fighting something inside himself, like a compulsion. Prewett Accio'd his wand from the counter just in time to see Draco's face twist into a grimace while he choked out a few inexplicable words.
"No…n-not…I won't…give it…away. MINE!"
Draco just as suddenly slumped to ground gasping for breath, eyes clear and bright. John rattled off several spells to diagnose physical and magical condition…finding only elevated heart rate associated with exertion. No magical trace of anything could be found.
"Draco! Draco…can you speak? What just happened? Are you alright?"
The young Lord Malfoy, looked unsure of what to say, slowly standing back up and looking around as if he expected to see someone else in the room besides the two of them, then apologized politely.
"I don't know. I'm sorry for the outburst. I didn't mean to worry you. I have…I have things to see to this morning before classes. Please forgive me. I promise that I'm fine."
Prewett hadn't seen any evidence of ill health or danger…but his first instinct was to ask Draco to stay and answer more questions. It troubled him that Draco seemed entirely normal now, if slightly evasive, than he had a mere minute ago…but what could he do beyond be certain of physical health? If he pried too hard and too fast, Draco would be sure to clam up and avoid speaking of it. He settled for leaving the subject open and ending their morning with an invitation.
"You seem fine, at least by the reckoning of my spells, but I'd prefer to be certain you were well before sending you off. You've never shown any sign of fits like that before. Draco, if there's anything wrong, anything troubling you or causing you issue…you do know that you can tell me about it, right?"
The young man had already moved toward the door, but turned back with a smile that didn't seem feigned. "I do. It is the first time I could say that truthfully. It was just a difficult conversation. I'm still unused to this, but please don't think I am ungrateful. I am alright. If anything does trouble me, please know that I will seek you out. I hope you will excuse me?"
John felt mollified…and the words seemed genuine and without guile. It was a sore subject they had broached. The lad had started to see sense in Harry's refusal to indulge in any kind of 'forbidden romance'…and that couldn't have been easy. He nodded his permission and let Draco head off into the halls to begin the day. John gathered the tea and saucers by spell and floated the lot of them back to the small kitchen, then made ready to prepare potion stocks, unless there were interruptions. As he worked he contemplated Draco's seeming fit, and what on earth it might portend. It had seemed similar to the visions he'd seen others endure, or possessions by spirits, or perhaps just a fit of confusion. It had already faded away by the time he'd had his wand up…so brief had it been…but it set him ill at ease to know that something was amiss and he had no answer for it as yet.
TBC
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The Echoes Of Yesterday