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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.

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Chapter Forty-Three�Being
a Father

�� Harry
stared at the tray of food that Snape had balanced on his knees, and shook his
head.

�� What is
it?� Snape was stirring a bowl of something thick that looked like sauce, or mash,
or maybe soup. Harry didn�t know, because he�d never seen anything that
brown-orange color before. It smelled good, though.

�� I don�t
need all of this.� Harry swept his hand along the tray. It took a while to make
the sweep. There was sauce, and the maybe-sauce, and soup, and bread, and a
bowl of sliced pears, and pumpkin juice, and a plate of meat in slices so small
they were almost transparent, and stewed (or something) carrots. Then Harry
came up with a theory that made sense and would keep him from feeling baffled
and ungrateful. He darted a look at Snape. �Are you eating with me, sir?�

�� Of
course.� Snape nodded to another tray that sat on the table next to the bed.

�� Well, so much for that idea. Harry shook
his head. �Then you don�t need to give me this much, sir,� he said. �There�s no
way that I would be able to eat all of it.� He looked at Snape to see how he
would react to common sense. Probably not well, if the past was any indication.

�� Snape gave
him a level look. �And what happens if you don�t eat all of it?� he asked in a
calmly interested tone.

�� Er,� Harry
said, and took a wild guess. �You yell at me because you want me to eat all of
it?�

�� Snape shook
his head, and went on with the level look, as though Harry were a small child
who had done something amusing. Harry shifted. He often felt like a small child
around Snape these last few days, and it was maddening, because Snape didn�t
treat him like one in the way that Dumbledore or Sirius had last year. It was
just a combination of the looks he gave Harry and the quietly arbitrary way
that he would tell him he�d had too much excitement for the present and had to
rest. It wasn�t something that could be fought, because Harry had trouble
defining it. But it was there.

�� I would
not,� Snape said. �But all this food is nourishing and necessary for someone
who has suffered the pain you have. If you do not finish some of it, then it
will be returned to the kitchens.�

�� Harry
frowned. �But that�s wasteful, isn�t it?�

�� Why?�
Snape raised his eyebrows. �The house-elves will either use this food in the
preparation of more food or eat it themselves. It will not be thrown away, as
seems to be your fear.� Brusqueness crept into the edges of his voice, which
was something Harry didn�t want to see happen.

�� Er, all
right,� Harry said, and picked up the cup of pumpkin juice to gulp from it. If
he could only make Snape happy by eating this meal, then he should do it. After
all, Snape had absolute control over him right now.

�� Snape�s
hand closed on his wrist. Harry jumped in spite of himself. Snape hadn�t
touched him much in the last few days, as if he liked looking at Harry but was
worried about what would happen if his hand glanced him. Or maybe he was
worried about how Harry would react.

�� Harry,�
Snape said gently. Harry wasn�t used to hearing him be so gentle, and he stared
at the tray. �Look at me, please.�

�� It would
have been easy to refuse if only he hadn�t said please, Harry thought in some confusion and resentment, raising his
eyes. Snape leaned forwards and held his gaze. And that wasn�t fair, either,
because it made it harder for Harry to pretend he�d seen something interesting
on the other side of the room and look away.

�� This is a
source of confusion and fear for you, isn�t it?� Snape asked. �Why? You need
not fear that I will punish you for eating or not eating, unless you resort to
such childish tricks as smearing your food on the walls.�

�� Harry had
to smile in spite of himself, because he could just picture Snape�s expression
if he came into the room and Harry had covered the walls with butter. �It�s all
right,� he said. �It�s just�I don�t eat this much food, that�s all. Even if
I�ve been sick.� Especially then.

�� Ah.� Snape
paused reflectively. Harry watched him and wondered what he was going to say
next. He seemed to have lost his power to predict Snape once the most likely
words out of the man�s mouth were no longer insults. Then Snape looked at Harry
and asked, �By choice, or by necessity?�

�� What do
you mean?� Harry asked casually, though his heart was speeding up.

�� I think
you know what I mean.� Snape leaned closer, and his dark eyes were the whole
world. Harry squirmed uncomfortably, and Snape backed off a bit, but he didn�t
release Harry�s hand or change the softness and intensity of his voice. �Do you
not eat much food because you are never hungry, because it is your choice? Or
because you were prevented from
eating that much food?�

�� Harry
stared down again. Suddenly Snape�s eyes weren�t so hypnotic after all. And his
heart was speeding up again and his face was flushing and he had to bite his
lip because there was a stupid prickling
in the corners of his eyes.

�� Why should this upset you so much? Harry
asked himself in scorn. Baby. It�s only
the bloody Dursleys, and you can talk about them if you want. They�re behind
you. They don�t matter. Snape will never let you go back to them, you don�t
have to worry about them, you shouldn�t cry like a stupid baby.

�� Harry.�
Snape didn�t make the word a question. He simply said the name so that Harry
would know he was there if Harry needed him.

�� Finally,
Harry swallowed, and looked Snape in the eye, which was the bravest thing he
thought he�d ever done, and said, �Necessity,� and then reached out and picked
up one of the sliced pears to eat.

�� Snape
released his wrist and sat back. Harry gave him a glance that he knew was
probably too hopeful, but which he couldn�t help. Was he going to stop talking
about this now? Was the confession that the Dursleys had starved Harry enough
to put him off? Harry bit into a pear and decided that maybe Snape would think
the same thing he did: now that it was over, they didn�t need to think about it
anymore. Snape might be angry, but he would give up worrying about the Dursleys
and just think about the future.

�� Snape
cleared his throat, and Harry looked at him and realized that that would never
happen. Snape�s eyes were burning with fury, although his face was calm enough
that Harry thought most people would have mistaken the fury for something else.

�� Forgive
me,� Snape said. �But I must know more. This has affected far more than your
immediate behavior.� He nodded at the tray, as if it was supposed to be some
sort of evidence in and of itself. �You hesitated when you saw the amount of
food here. You appeared to believe that I wouldn�t allow you to eat all of it,
or that I had given you too much. Did you really believe I would do that?�

�� Harry
hesitated. Then he swallowed the bite of pear in his mouth and picked up the
glass of juice. �No,� he said, and swallowed a gulp of juice.

�� Explain to
me what you were thinking,� Snape said, a gentle demand, if there was such a
thing.

�� I don�t,�
Harry said, which wasn�t a cut-off sentence but a sentence in itself, and then
picked up a piece of bread and bit into it.

�� Do you
believe I would hurt you?� Snape was sitting up straight in his chair, voice
tight and dry. �As I understand it, one of the reasons you put off revealing
our blood relationship to me for so long was the fear that I would abuse you.�

�� Harry still
flinched at the word �abuse.� Let�s not
talk about it, he wanted to say, but he knew that would only�at best�make
Snape put it off until some other time, and at worst, Snape would get angry.
This had to be faced, just like Voldemort did.

�� No,� he
said. �Not when you�ve taken care of me like this and you haven�t bruised me in
a long time. And I know that the Entwining Potion wasn�t your fault,� he added forcefully, because he hoped Snape
would stop blaming himself for that if Harry just said it often enough. �My
ideas about food are stupid.�

�� Not stupid
if they belong to you and trouble you,� Snape said. �Tell me.�

�� Harry
looked up at him and wanted to make a joke. Isn�t
it strange that we�re sitting here and talking like this? Remember a few months
ago when you hated me and this never could have happened?

�� But that
would probably get Snape upset, too, so Harry nodded gloomily and said, �Yeah,
I didn�t think there should be that much food. I mean, I�d never eat that much.
And the Dur�I mean, I wasn�t allowed to eat a lot of food at a time. When I did
get some, I had to make sure that I didn�t waste any of it.�

�� Because
you never knew when you would get to eat again,� Snape said. �Am I correct?�

�� It wasn�t like that,� Harry said. He would have
liked to fold himself into a ball and curl up against the pillow, but the tray
was in the way. He settled for scowling at Snape, who let out a soft sigh
of�relief? Sometimes Harry thought he would never understand him.

�� Then tell
me what it was like.� Snape didn�t sound hard or mocking, the way that some of
Harry�s primary school teachers had when he tried to explain about food. He
simply sat beside Harry�s bed and looked into his eyes and seemed content to do
that all day, if that was what he had to do.

�� I got to
eat if I did all my chores,� Harry said. �And did them well. And if they
weren�t too angry�I mean, if I hadn�t done something wrong that day.� He knew
he probably sounded more than a little pathetic, trying to pretend the Dursleys
didn�t have anything to do with his stupid food issues, but he needed to do it.
And Snape nodded as if he accepted the story Harry was telling instead of the
one he was listening for.

�� How much
food would you get to eat in a typical day?� he asked.

�� There were no typical days,� Harry said,
irritated by how much ignorance that question displayed. �Sometimes I finished
all my chores to their satisfactions, and sometimes I didn�t. Sometimes I
cooked dinner, and I could snatch a few extra handfuls, or I burned bits of the
food and they gave me those. Sometimes I dug through the rubbish.� He could
feel his cheeks heating, and he turned his head away.

��

�� Snape
remained silent for some time. Harry wondered if he was struggling to find the
words, or struggling to control his own anger, which did seem stronger than
Harry would have thought it could be. Finally, he said, �But you did not think
I would take this food away from you. You thought, instead, that you did not
deserve that much food.�

�� I wondered
what I was going to do with all of it,� Harry said, and ate one of the
transparent slices of meat. �That�s all.�

�� Why not
what I said?� Snape asked.

�� Harry
paused and looked at him suspiciously, but Snape sounded only mildly
interested, the way he would be if someone had finished a potion in a way that
wasn�t in the textbook, so Harry could answer. �Because I don�t like people to
talk about deserving,� he said. �I
know where that goes. All those horrid conversations that adults have with kids
about whether they think they deserved what was happening to them. I�m not that stupid. I hate the Dursleys. I
don�t defend them.�

�� A small
twitch of Snape�s lip seemed to suggest he was about to disagree, but instead
he said, �Very well. But if you need more food over the holidays, I wish you to
feel comfortable asking for it.�

�� Harry
blinked, caught off-guard. �Over the holidays? What do you mean?�

�� The
Christmas holidays, of course.� Snape was looking at him now as if he assumed
that not eating some food when he was a child had hurt Harry�s brain. �When you
stay with me, I want you to be reassured that you will have all the food you
want.�

�� But over
the Christmas holidays, I usually just stay at Hogwarts,� Harry said, feeling
numb and confused and excited. He wanted to shove the tray away so that he
could pull his knees up towards his chest, but there was nowhere for it to
go�at least, not without spilling food all over the sheets. �Don�t you, too?�

�� You will
stay close to me,� Snape said, as if they�d spent years discussing it and it
was all settled. �While I remain at Hogwarts, you will be staying with me, and
not in Gryffindor Tower.�

�� But that
means that everyone will have to know we�re father and son,� Harry said. �And
no one�s going to take that well. The newspapers will shriek, and some people
will call for you to be put in Azkaban. And what if Voldemort�s not dead yet?�

�� Then we
will keep it quiet,� Snape said, with a fluid little shrug of his shoulders
that seemed to suggest he didn�t see any problems. �It will be easier than
usual, because there will not be as many students around to discover secrets.�
He arched a challenging eyebrow at Harry. Maybe he wanted him to remember that
he was one of those students.

�� Harry
opened his mouth to make another objection�

�� And then
looked into Snape�s eyes.

�� There was
hope there, and anger, and something that Harry decided it would be painful to
try and name. But what was there, most of all, was some kind of desperate need
to accept, and have Harry accept, what he was trying to say.

�� It doesn�t matter to him that much if we can
stay together over the holidays, Harry thought, feeling incredibly slow for
not seeing that earlier. What matters is
that he wants to make plans like that, and he wants me to agree with them. He
wants to know that I want him as a father.

�� That was a
dizzying number of wants, and Harry had to pause before he said, �Yes. All
right. We can try.�

�� Snape shut
his eyes. Harry was the one who turned politely away this time, and continued
eating his food.

�� This is
good,� he added, because he thought Snape ought to know that.

�� Snape gave
him another look that was hard to describe and made the stupid flush start up
in his cheeks again.

*

�� Being a
father was like nothing else Severus had experienced. Or rather, knowing that he was a father was like
nothing else Severus had experienced. Before he knew, Harry could have lived
and died and had children before he died, and Severus would only have known or
cared if the world forced the Boy-Who-Lived on his notice.

�� But now, it
was as though he had a continually open wound, one that could be torn wide open
at any moment. If something happened to Harry, if he was injured, if he still
suffered from the abuse his Muggle relatives had inflicted upon him, then
Severus knew he would feel that pain, too. And no matter what happened, there
was no way to heal the wound or make the chance of pain less, except for
courses�such as blocking his memory of his relationship with Harry�that Severus
refused to undergo.

�� The most he
could do was to try and make sure that Harry was safer. And that was what had
led him to create the lie that not only had Harry been injured in his
detention, but the potion he had been making had exploded in a spectacular mess
that had sealed them inside Severus�s office for the past few days. An auditory
glamour cast on the office had created the sounds of moans, groans, and curses
for those curious ones who might want to listen. The rest of the Hogwarts staff
said they were �working on it,� but the students didn�t know that Harry and
Severus were comfortably ensconced in his private quarters.

�� Severus had
to Disillusion himself when he wished to move about the corridors, but he was
used to doing that during his patrols when he stalked snogging students, so
that didn�t matter. He used the Disillusionment to visit Minerva and learn what
the Aurors had extracted from Cravens.

�� She became
a Death Eater shortly after You-Know-Who�s return,� Minerva told him, holding a
cup of the ridiculously strong tea she had always favored and sipping slowly
from it. Severus had known that no
one could simply drink that tea without consequences. �She apparently hoped to
obtain protection during the war and knowledge of powerful new spells from it.
And yes, she was the one who poisoned Mr. Malfoy.�

�� Severus
closed his eyes and exhaled. That was one less worry. He worried for Draco, but
more for Harry, and if Draco�s poisoner was safely gone from the school, then
Harry would not be hurt by Draco�s injury. �Good,� he said. �Anything else? Why
did she do it?�

�� As revenge
for the way that Mr. Malfoy betrayed You-Know-Who, and his mother escaped,�
Minerva said. She was one of the few professors in the school, excluding Albus,
who knew the whole story of the venture into Malfoy Manor. �She did not know of
any other motive,� she added, watching his face closely.

�� What other
motive would there be?� Severus asked, giving her a bland look. �I merely asked
because it seemed a strange time to strike, several weeks after the escape.�

�� Perhaps
You-Know-Who wanted to wait until he discerned that he could not find Mrs.
Malfoy and make her pay personally,� Minerva said, with a slight shrug. �As for
the other reason, Severus, please do not assume that because my sight is poor,
I am blind in all the things that matter. I know that Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter
are starting a relationship.�

�� Severus
blinked and stared at her despite himself. The Gryffindor Head of House rarely
appeared to pay much attention to the Slytherins. He had expected her to miss
the signs completely.

�� I have
taught for decades, Severus,� Minerva said tolerantly. �I assure you, every
generation of students thinks they�ve invented some new way to keep their
passions secret, and I refuse to disappoint them by pointing out how many times
I�ve seen those particular deceptions before.� She shook her head. �James
Potter�s father also tried to pretend that he�d just �happened� to start liking
and protecting a Slytherin. How these things do run, from father to son.�

�� Severus
clenched his teeth against his immediate response, which was to bark jealously
that Harry was his son and not James�s. The secret had done something strange
to his normal methods for concealing himself. When it came to matters related
to his Slytherins or the war, it was easy to hold back his emotions. When it
came to Harry, it was not. He knew of no logical reason for the difference; he
only knew that it was so.

�� Very
well,� he said. �Then you know why it is more important than ever that we not
allow Draco to be hurt again.�

�� Minerva
gave him a harsh look. �I might dislike a student�s parents or his politics,
Severus, but I would not let that deter me from defending him.�

�� Severus
inclined his head in apology, and continued, �Apparently Albus told Mr. Potter
that there was a certain time You-Know-Who would attack the school.� He watched
Minerva sit up in her chair and wondered if he ought not to have told her
before this. He had assumed without thinking that the Head of Gryffindor would
be loyal to the Headmaster, but perhaps not. �He has not confirmed a date,
however, merely hinting that Mr. Potter should come speak to him in private if
he wants to know more. For various reasons, it is desirable that Mr. Potter not
be alone with Albus right now. Do you think you could ask Albus for the date
and wrench it from him with none of his silly riddles or delays?�

�� Why would
he delay information like this?� Minerva murmured, her eyes on the fire. Then
her face seemed to cloud over, and she sighed. �Because he likes to control the
flow of information so much,� she answered her own question. �Of course. Yes.
Well. I will try to speak to him, Severus, though I cannot guarantee results.�

�� Severus
nodded, more than satisfied to accept that response. Minerva had resources of
personality and connection to Albus that he did not, and would cling
tenaciously to Albus past his vague responses now that she knew what to look
for.

�� Besides, it
was past time that he get back to his son.

*

�� Draco
stepped cautiously into Professor Snape�s bedroom, which had become Harry�s
bedroom. He had visited before, but only in short snatches, with the professor
hovering nearby the entire time and Granger and Weasley behind him. He could
hardly tell Harry about everything he needed to say when he had an audience.

�� But now, Professor
Snape seemed to have decided that Harry was well enough to receive visitors,
and Draco was alone, and Harry was sitting up in bed and holding out a hand
with a sweet smile.

�� Draco came
up to him and wrapped his arms around him. Harry lifted his head for a kiss.

�� Draco lost
track of time during the kiss, and even place. When he became conscious again,
he was sitting in bed with Harry, half-sprawled across his lap, and Harry was
playing with his hair and sighing into his ear.

�� God, I
missed you,� Harry whispered.

�� Draco
forgot his resentments about having no private time with Harry for three whole
days. He hugged him back, and murmured meaningless nonsense, and just sat there
in dazed happiness for a little while.

�� How�s your
mother?� Harry asked.

�� Draco
looked up at him in silence for a minute. Harry didn�t appear to be concerned,
and just traced the lobe and shell of Draco�s ear as he waited for him to
speak.

�� My father would say that I�m weak, needing
someone so much. Mother would smile, but also caution me. Does he care for me
as much as I do for him? How do I know that? Am I too vulnerable to him, too
open? Should I spend more time holding back from him and making him pursue me?
Do I know that he�ll hang onto me the way I want him to, or defend me from his
friends? Do I know anything except my own intense happiness, and is that a bad
thing? She would think so.

�� Before,
Draco had decided that the answers to those questions were ones that would
satisfy both himself and his parents. But looking at Harry like this, he
decided that the answers could be the �wrong� ones and he still wouldn�t care.
He would be vulnerable and open to Harry all his life, and maybe he would care
for Harry more, and Harry could ignore him sometimes, and Draco would still
come back.

�� That would
have been pathetic�except that Draco had no doubt at all that Harry cared for
him back, and would show it, even if his method of showing it wouldn�t fall
exactly within the Malfoy standards. And there would be times when Draco would
ignore Harry, and row with him, and despise his stupid friends. That was just
the way their lives were.

�� A warm glow
in both his mind and his belly, Draco folded his legs up beneath him and
started to talk.

*

�� DTDY: Thank
you!

�� MewMew2:
Actually, I chose that word on purpose. Fuzzy is used so often that I wanted to
see what would happen if I changed the word.

�� k lave
demo: Thanks! I think Harry�s view only grows in complication here.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Thanks!

�� Sarah:
Thanks for reviewing.

�� SP777:
Harry is doing really well for someone with his background! He isn�t always the
smartest of people, no, but he�s getting closer and closer.

�� Ron is more
knowledgeable about wizarding parents than Hermione is, hence his rare moment
of insight. Or maybe he�s just much more afraid of annoying Snape than she is.
;)

�� Yes, I have
over 1000 reviews on FF.

�� Madamdragon:
Thanks! Harry should get used to it, since that�s one trait that Snape�s not
dropping any time soon.

�� anciie:
Yes, one plot twist still to go! They have to deal with Voldemort. And figure
out what the hell is up with Dumbledore.

�� KadyRae:
Thank you!

�� Snape has
seen Draco and Harry�s relationship in action during the Entwining Potion
scenes, and he�s smarter than to try and separate them, when he can see that
Draco benefits Harry so much.

�� Mya Malfoy:
Thank you! I�m glad you have it a second/seventh chance.

�� Sneakyfox: Yeah,
Hermione doesn�t like people to step out of their roles. At least she�s giving
Snape a trial period.
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Practicing Liars