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Soldier's Welcome	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 25565 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; that belongs to J. K. Rowling. I am making no money from this fic.

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Chapter Four�Nihil and
No Rest

�� I want you
to tell me again what you saw.�

�� Draco
sighed. At least they had brought in Auror Dearborn to question him. The Auror
instructors were nominally responsible for the first-year trainees, since they
taught their classes, and of all of them, Draco found Dearborn the most
understandable. The man had heard of
elegance, while the word didn�t appear to have ever touched the eardrums of
Jones or Ketchum.

�� But
Dearborn�s fondness for precision did mean that Draco had sat here for hours
answering questions about the Dark magic he and Potter had sensed and why they
had rushed to confront it instead of shouting for help.

�� Potter
sensed the Dark magic first,� Draco began, �and tried to order me back into my
room.�

�� Dearborn
held up a hand. The onyx ring on his finger caught Draco�s attention, and he
found himself peering at it in approval. The gold band was both finer and less
ostentatious than he had thought. �I am certain that I know that part of the
story. I wish to know again what you saw when you came around the corner.�

�� I saw an
illusion floating in front of the wall,� Draco said, �to the right side as one
faces it.� Dearborn gave a small smile and nod to show that he appreciated the
detail. �It resembled a man hanged with a snake, but the body was puffy, as
though he had spent time in water before he died. From the transparency of the
body, I knew it was an illusion.�

�� That is
more than Potter managed to sense,� Dearborn mused. �He said that he thought it
was real at first, until the stench of Dark magic convinced him that someone
had poured much power into making the image.�

�� Draco
relaxed and smiled. So Dearborn thought him smarter than Potter, did he? That also
showed the man was capable of appreciating reality.

�� On the
other hand, harping on the difference between them would not tell Dearborn what
he wanted to know, and might convince him that Draco was still obsessed with a
petty rivalry from his schooldays. So Draco continued the story as he would
have if Dearborn had not interrupted him. �The letters on the wall were written
in what looked like a mixture of oil and blood. Nihil, they said. I saw no
other letters. I am unaware whether this was a message or part of a name. The
letters melted and ran when Potter cast his Finite.�

�� Dearborn
paused a moment, as though he needed to stir Draco�s words in his mind through
a medium compounded of other ingredients, and then leaned confidingly forwards.
Draco felt a tingle of excitement, and had to hold himself still with an
effort. They were seated on a pair of stools in Dearborn�s office, behind a
tightly warded door, so Draco was at least sure that no one else could intrude
or overhear.

�� Potter was
the one who dissipated the spells, then,� Dearborn said. �Is there, do you
think, any way that he could have been involved in their creation?�

�� Draco
stifled a sigh. A few years ago, he would have greeted such an opportunity to
discredit Potter as sweeter than many fruits he had eaten.

�� But in this
case, the strikes against it were two: not only had Draco felt how hostile
Potter�s power was to Dark magic, which would have given him trouble casting
spells that complicated, but he also knew that Potter had been out with Weasley
and drinking shortly before they discovered the images. Alcohol would have
destroyed the delicate control he might have relied on to cast the spells
completely.

�� No chance,
sir,� Draco said. �I heard the sounds Potter made in the corridor when he came
out of his room immediately. I�m sure that I would have heard him casting such
spells. He never can be quiet,� he added. �And besides, sir, I don�t know if
you�ve felt his magic at close range, but it�s oriented against Dark Arts,
towards protective and defensive charms mostly. I think he kept the magic from
hurting us more than it otherwise might have done, when he ended the illusion
and the remnants of it raced towards it. There is no way that he could have
created the illusion in the first place, however.�

�� I accept
your judgment, Trainee Malfoy,� Dearborn said, with a formality that made Draco
look sharply at his face in case he had overstepped his bounds. But Dearborn
merely looked thoughtful, not condemning. �And your magic? Do you believe that
you could have either dissipated or created those spells?�

�� Draco
lifted his head with a deep breath. He would not lie to himself, or to others,
especially when the Aurors probably possessed spells that would let them figure
out someone�s strength anyway. If he was
in charge of the Auror program, Draco would certainly have researched a spell
like that.

�� No, sir,�
he said. �My main talents lie in Potions. My strength is middle-of-the-road
when it comes to incantations.�

�� Dearborn
sat staring at him for so long that Draco wondered if it had been the wrong
thing to say after all. But then Dearborn smiled slowly.

�� You are
more courageous in your honesty than most of the trainees I have met so far,
Malfoy,� said Dearborn. He hesitated for a moment, then continued. �As I am
sure you are aware, particular trainees establish mentor relationships with
full Aurors in their second and third years of education. They may help them
teach and train the first-years, as Auror Ketchum�s do, or they may mark
first-year essays, or they may learn special skills if their mentor feels that
they need exposure to subjects outside the common classes.�

�� Draco
nodded, his heart pounding so hard that his throat felt full.

�� I have not
taken a disciple in years,� said Dearborn. �I have found that few students have
talents for the sort of magic I teach, in all its variety, and I have found few
who are honest about their strengths and weaknesses in that area. I would
rather have no one under me than someone who is striving vainly to impress me.�

�� Draco
licked his lips. Honesty had been the right choice so far. �I don�t know that
I�ll ever be talented enough to be worth your time, sir.�

�� There are
other things I can teach than simply offensive and defensive magic.� Dearborn
waved one hand, his ring flashing again. Draco admired the effect. He wore it
at an angle that didn�t make it flare with every movement, which would be
vulgar, but it was prominent enough that one couldn�t ignore it, which was
proper for a sole ornament. �At the moment, I cannot explain more fully,
because there are second-years who are still looking for a mentor and would try
to latch onto me if they believed that I might be willing to entertain the
notion. Can I trust you to keep quiet about this for now while I consider?�

�� Of course,
sir,� Draco said, and then took a risk. He knew that Auror Dearborn had a
cousin who had died in the first war against the Dark Lord, presumably killed
by Death Eaters. Draco had to know how he felt about pure-bloods in general and
Draco�s family in particular before he put himself at the mercy of someone like
this, older and with more knowledge of magic. �Malfoys know how to keep
secrets.�

�� Instead of
squinting or hesitating, Dearborn tilted his head back and laughed aloud. �I am
certain that you do,� he said. �The last time the Aurors investigated Malfoy
Manor, they could not find the end of the hidden holes and cabinets that Dark
artifacts must be contained in. They needed to rely on your father�s good
faith.� He gave Draco a speculative look. �Which makes me all the more
intrigued that a Malfoy decided to become an Auror.�

�� Draco
smiled with his eyelashes lowered and didn�t answer. It would do him no harm to
keep a few of his own secrets.

*

�� Harry
sighed and stared at the exam in front of him. He thought it unfair that they
were having an exam in the second week of classes, but Hestia had said that the
only way for her to be sure that they were keeping all the rules of Auror
Conduct in their heads was to test them regularly.

�� Harry had
been up late last night, answering question after question from Battle Healer
Portillo Lopez, who seemed convinced that he had really cast the Dark Arts
spells in the corridor that he and Malfoy found, or at least dissipated them
with suspicious speed. When she was satisfied that he was innocent, she had
still given him a lecture about the importance of evidence and destroying
evidence.

�� Then Harry had gone to bed and found
that no Silencing Charm he cast seemed to stand up to Ron�s thick snoring. He�d
had probably three hours of sleep.

�� And now the
words were blurring on the paper in front of him.

�� He sighed
and resisted the temptation to glance over at Hermione. She�d explained with
some smugness the rules in Auror training about cheating. A trainee would be
assigned double the amount of work in class for the first offense and kicked
out of training for the second. Harry knew that there was no way he could
survive those punishments. He was struggling to keep his head above water as he
was, and the extra lessons in dueling with Malfoy would be enough of a burden.

�� If he was
kicked out of Auror training, then he had nowhere else to go. His best friends
were there.

�� Harry
looked up and blinked suddenly. Hestia gave him a stern look, but since Harry
immediately turned his face to the wall, she seemed to assume he was only
staring off into the space in the middle of intense concentration. Harry caught
the edge of her smile of approval.

�� It�s a pretty pitiful reason to want to stay
in Auror training, Harry thought, scratching his nose, if the only reason you can think of for trying is that your best
friends are doing it, too. What happened to protecting people? What happened to
learning this because you want to keep fighting Dark wizards, and you need to
know these things to fight Dark wizards?

�� Harry
nibbled his lower lip for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and turned back
to the exam.

�� He�d just
learned something about himself that he didn�t particularly like. Maybe his
motives for taking the training were mixed instead of pure after all. Maybe he
had less direction and less strength of will than he�d always suspected.

�� But at
least he could try to do his very best now that he was here, and not get kicked
out through sheer incompetence.

*

�� I would
have thought that you�d got enough practice dueling as it was, Malfoy.�

�� Potter�s
voice was neutral, and he removed his trainee�s robes without any insulting
slowness or quickness. Draco still narrowed his eyes, watching as Potter draped
his robes across the back of a chair, because where Potter was concerned, an
insult was inevitable.

�� Potter�s
face was set when he turned around, though, and the way he flourished his wand
and raised an eyebrow just spoke to someone having to do a job that they didn�t
particularly like. Draco decided to accept the mask as the truth for a moment
and answer. �Not in dueling as such. Running away isn�t good at teaching that,
and most of the Death Eaters who were supposed to �train� me did no such
thing.� He sniffed as he stripped to his own shirt and trousers. �The Auror
program is far superior in that respect.�

�� Potter
stared curiously at him. He wore a white shirt that had seen better days and
dark trousers that looked as if a white cat had rolled on them. �Why did you become an Auror anyway?�

�� My
steadfast good nature,� Draco said in a completely inflectionless voice as he
hung up his robes on the hook in the wall. �It flows out of me in boundless
copiousness and must be shared with the world.�

�� Potter
rolled his eyes and dropped the subject, to Draco�s surprise. �How many
standard dueling spells do you know?� he asked, pacing across the room until he
was almost on the other side of it, and standing opposite to Draco.

�� Tell me
what you define as a standard dueling spell, and then I�ll answer the
question.� Draco cast a minor protective charm on his robes. He didn�t want
them getting scorched and stained by Potter�s enthusiasm.

�� What the
NEWTS called it,� Potter said, his voice changing slightly. Draco stared at
him. The words were broader and more polished at once. He kept his eyes on
Draco�s face, and for once, there was no mockery in them. He looked almost
handsome when he relaxed like that, Draco thought. �A spell used to
incapacitate an enemy, cause them minor pain, defend yourself, heal minor
wounds so that you can continue fighting, or alter the immediate environment
for purposes of incapacitation or defense.� He spun his wand through his
fingers, as though he were trying to think of any categories he was forgetting,
then snapped his head down in an odd, bow-like nod. �That�s it.�

�� Not major
pain, then?� Draco knew plenty of curses like that, and let his voice imply so.

�� As he had
hoped, Potter�s face wrinkled in disgust like the skin of a withered berry and
the odd appealing aspect to him disappeared. �Of course not, Malfoy,� he said.
�The purpose of a duel is supposed to be to bring down and demonstrate your
superiority to an opponent, not kill him.�

�� Draco felt
his eyes light up. Surrounded by people who looked at him sidelong and wouldn�t
stay in the same room with him, as well as by Aurors he didn�t dare show less
than humility in front of, it would be very satisfying
if he could demonstrate his superiority to Potter.

�� Yes, I
thought that would intrigue you,� Potter said, with a tolerant look that Draco
didn�t like at all. It suggested that Potter knew him in some way, and that was simply not true. �Now tell me
how many you know.�

�� The basics
of defense,� Draco said. �The Shield Charm and spells like it. Body-Binds and
the Stunner. Petrificus Totalus and
its variants. Some hexes and jinxes such as the Jellylegs and the Tripping
Jinxes. Nothing of minor healing spells or defensive Transfiguration.� He
shrugged when Potter stared at him. �That wasn�t the sort of career I thought I
was training for at the time.�

�� Impossibly,
Potter�s eyes softened, and he gave a single nod. �Whereas I was,� he said.
�And I can�t imagine that a lot of the people here know more than you do.� He
moved on while Draco�s soul still rang with the lightning-shock of a compliment
from Harry Potter. �Can you do the Patronus Charm?�

�� I�m not
likely to have much use for it, am I?� Draco countered. He knew that Potter
could produce the Charm quite well, having been on the receiving end of it at
one point, and had no desire to give the man much room to flaunt his expertise
for the sake of flaunting it. �Since we�ll mostly face Dark wizards rather than
Dementors.�

�� All
knowledge is worth having,� said Potter, with a pompous expression.

�� Draco
scowled. It was one of Auror Dearborn�s favorite maxims and most frequent
sayings in class, and so Potter had neatly trapped him. �All right, then,� he
said grudgingly. �Show me.�

�� A happy
memory first,� Potter said, lifting his wand. �That�s the fuel for the spell.�
He drew in a deep breath, as if he thought that the spell wouldn�t respond if
he didn�t say it loudly. �Expecto
Patronum!�

�� A silver
stag leaped out of his wand and circled the room once. Draco had more chance to
see and admire it when it wasn�t chasing him down, and had to admit it was
impressive. The stag halted, looked towards him, and flicked its ears in
interest before turning back to Potter as if to ask what he wanted of it.

�� You can
command your Patronus to carry messages, too,� Potter said, without taking his
eyes off the stag. His expression was open and peaceful now, and Draco tapped
his tongue thoughtfully against his teeth. It came to him that it wouldn�t be
amiss for him to relax a bit in Potter�s company, as long as he kept enough of
an edge to be instantly alert when Potter attacked. �So they�re useful even
when you�re not battling Dementors.�

�� He extended
his hand towards the stag. �Go tell Ron that I�m busy studying tonight in a
private place and won�t join him for dinner, please.�

�� Draco
caught his breath on a sneer; he wouldn�t tell a piece of his own magic please. But as the stag bowed its
antlers and then leaped past him and through the wall, Draco caught a whiff of
Potter�s magic like a gentle breeze. He licked his lips. This time it came to
him as a taste more than a smell, tart and pleasant at once, like a peach just
beginning to become overripe.

�� Did you
want to try that first?� Potter asked. �Or something else?�

�� Draco
turned around to stare at him again. The reminder of their compatible magic had
put him off-balance; that had to be why he said what he did. �You�re being an
awfully compliant teacher when I forced you into this, Potter.�

�� Potter�s
head rose and his eyes flashed. �I happen to like instructing people who want
instruction,� he said coldly. �Of course, Malfoy, if you prefer to resist and
taunt me, then it�s all the same to me if I leave now.�

�� I�ll report
you to the Aurors,� Draco said.

�� Potter gave
him a silent look of scorn, and Draco felt himself flush. That had sounded
childish and he knew it.

�� Did you
want to try the Patronus Charm first?� Potter repeated, after a moment�s tense
silence. �Or something else?�

�� Draco
cleared his throat. �That first.�

�� Potter fell
out of the way, and Draco aimed his wand in front of him. He focused his mind
at once on the most intense memory he had, the one he had used to comfort and
warm himself when he was forced to torture people: the memory of his mother
sitting with him and reading him stories one morning when he was four. They had
sat on the green grass of the Manor, and the peacocks had stalked around them
and tapped gentle beaks against Draco�s head, and the sun had been so bright
that sometimes Draco needed to shield his eyes from it.

�� He waited
until he could feel both the sunlight and his mother�s love for him, bright and
coiling around him with the same level of warmth. Then he aimed his wand and
shouted, �Expecto Patronum!�

�� Nothing
happened, except a faint trickle of silvery mist from his wand.

�� Draco
glanced at Potter, expecting to see him snickering, but Potter simply shrugged
when he saw Draco staring. �That happened to me the first hundred times I did
it, too,� he said. �Even though I was concentrating as hard as I could on a
happy memory. You can�t expect to master all the defensive spells quickly. Try
again.�

�� Draco did.
And again. And again. On his last attempt, he thought the silver smoke was a
bit brighter, but otherwise, there was no change. He turned at last on Potter,
glaring and expecting to see him looking either bored or angry.

*

�� Harry was
more and more sure that something strange was going on, at least as related to
him and Malfoy.

�� When Malfoy
began to cast, it was as though every hair on Harry�s body stood to
attention�as though someone had called his name and started cooking his
favorite thing to eat at once. Harry had fought the temptation to take a step
forwards, astonished. He knew that nothing like that had ever happened before.

�� His first
thought was that Malfoy had cast some spell that forced Harry to respond to him
like a child, but when Harry glared at him, he found Malfoy too involved in the
failure of his Patronus Charm to take any pleasure in Harry�s confusion. He
certainly would have been watching and smirking if he�d cast a spell like that,
so Harry was forced to conclude that it was something else.

�� When Malfoy
finally grew too disappointed at his non-success to hide his disappointment and
whirled around, Harry was busy with a question that should put aside his temper
tantrum. �Why do I feel comfortable when you use your magic?� he demanded.

�� Malfoy
blinked, shut his mouth, opened his mouth, and then said, �Because our magic is
compatible.�

�� I never
felt anything like that at school,� Harry argued, and then blinked himself.
�What�s compatible magic?�

�� Of course
you didn�t.� Malfoy sneered at him. Harry found himself relaxing. He�d missed
that expression when Malfoy looked frustrated, the way that Harry remembered
feeling when Remus tried to teach him the Patronus Charm. Malfoy had looked too
human.

�� (Remus, said the sharp voice of his
grief, and tried to drag him underwater and into a fit of memory. Harry
resisted. He didn�t have the time to have a fit in front of Malfoy and explain
to him everything that involved. Fuck, he hadn�t had time to explain it to Ron
and Hermione yet).

�� You would
only feel my magic like that after both of us came of age,� Malfoy explained,
and then went on to answer Harry�s second question as well, which was
unexpectedly generous of him. �Basically, it means that two wizards have a
similarity in their magic. Not a similarity in talent or strength, but a
similarity in the way it feels.� He probably saw Harry�s skepticism, because he
rolled his eyes. �I didn�t exactly choose to have your magic heal and refresh
me either, Potter.�

�� Harry
gnawed his lip. �What are the practical consequences, though?�

�� Malfoy
sounded extremely reluctant, but he answered after a moment. �We can cast
together, and combine our magic, in the way that you usually need a ritual to
do. But we can only do that after we get used to each other,� he added quickly,
as if he thought Harry might want to try it right now. �And we�ll feel stronger
and more comfortable in each other�s presences. Usually, wizards with
compatible magic become friends.�

�� Harry
laughed. �Well, not much chance of that.�

�� Exactly,�
Malfoy said, sounding relieved to be rid of the subject. He smiled slightly,
which Harry decided definitely should not be encouraged. It made him even more
human than the frustration. Ferrets didn�t smile like that. �I consider it an
unfortunate coincidence that there should be no reason to encourage. Now. I
will return to the Patronus Charm, but I want to see you cast it again first.�

�� Harry cast
it comfortably enough. The stag galloped around the room and then stopped and
stood staring at him, waiting for orders. Harry sighed. If he looked long enough,
the stag would remind him of the past�his father and the silver doe that had
come to lead him to the Sword of Gryffindor.

�� (The memory
of Snape caused the worst fits, but luckily Harry had always been alone when
they came. And anyway, he didn�t need to think about them, any more than he
needed to think about the rest of the war).

�� I think I
have it,� Malfoy said, and gathered himself so that he could whip his wand
down.

�� Harry
watched it and thought about asking whether the compatibility of their magic
had made it easier for him to use Malfoy�s wand.

�� But that
wasn�t something they wanted to pursue or which had anything to do with their
being in the Aurors. So why should he care about it?

�� If I�m going to be here, then I need to
rededicate myself to the purpose of protection and defense, anyway, and not go
wandering down side-paths of speculation about Malfoy. He�s not that
interesting.

*

�� yaoiObsessed:
Thanks! As for who cast the spells, yes, you�ll find out eventually. Very eventually.

�� starstruck86:
Thank you!

�� Blood on
the Water: Yes, I am. This story is the first in a trilogy.

�� SamuraiSaaya:
Thank you!

�� As for
Nemo? Why, just a trader in a pub. ;)

�� Black
Padfoot: Thank you!

�� Thrnbrooke:
There isn�t really a good choice when it comes to Hagrid and the hybrid, as far
as Harry is concerned.

�� SP777: Ron
is kind of high on surviving the war right now. Give him some time, and he�ll
settle down. But Harry will come to that realization sooner than he will. In
fact, he probably came to it in this chapter.

�� Glad you
like Harry and Draco working together. At the moment, of course, they�re as
obsessed with working against each
other as anything else.

�� I do have a
scene with them fighting side-by-side planned, but it won�t be here for at
least a few more chapters.

�� Thanks for
the compliment on action scenes!

�� This story
is entirely preslash. Harry and Draco won�t notice each other much sexually until
the second story in the series, and won�t get together until the third.
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- 5
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