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Ceremonies of Strife	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16218 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money from this writing.

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Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter
Forty-Three�Setting His House In Order

�� When they
finally struggled out of the snow, Harry expected Draco to say that they should
head back to the Ministry, or go to Ireland to look for his mother. Harry was willing
to do either, although he didn�t think they had much of a chance of finding
Narcissa, given how well she seemed to have hidden herself.

�� Instead,
Draco touched his forehead and then glanced at the place where the false Lucius
had lain in the snow, as though saying farewell, and turned to Harry. �I have
to go to the Manor,� he said.

�� Harry
wasn�t sure he understood the almost challenging look in Draco�s eyes, but he
nodded. �Then we�ll go,� he said.

�� Draco�s
face relaxed into a smile, and he stretched out his arm so that Harry could
take it. �The Manor was already connected to me,� he murmured. �I sensed that
when I was halfway through the spell, and it was what first warned me that
something was wrong. Of course the allegiance of the wards and the house-elves
would have transferred to me the minute my father died in prison. The spells to
make such a thing automatic were long ago set up by the Malfoy line. This
Lucius could only have a shadow of authority as long as my father was still
alive and fueling him, I reckon.�

�� Harry
nodded. He didn�t think he had an answer for that, especially because he knew
nothing about how inheritance spells worked. He was straining his knowledge and
intelligence giving that explanation of why Lucius�s shadow had formed as it
was.

�� For the
moment, he was more than happy to let Draco take the lead.

*

�� Draco
Apparated them into the Manor�s largest courtyard, an open space deep within
the house, surrounded by four high walls. Drifting snow lay there, which Draco
had never seen happen before. Then again, it required an effort of will to keep
the snow beyond the walls, and no one had been here to make it. If Draco had
seen a sight like this, he would have known in an instant that something was
wrong.

�� But he
hadn�t, and so he soothed the self-blame that wanted to score him. Not all of
the habits he had picked up from Harry were healthy.

�� He
concentrated instead on the feeling of wards closing around him with the smooth
silkiness of water parting as he dived into a pool. He had never thought he
would feel that. He hadn�t truly been able to conceive a time when his father
wouldn�t be alive, although he had got used to being without him since Lucius
went to Azkaban.

�� I have to mourn.

�� That would
come later. At the moment, Draco had more important things to worry about. He
strode out briskly, to the center of the courtyard, and pushed against the
wards as he did, feeling them flex and snap and gather energy after days of
lying dormant.

�� Harry was
right behind him, or Draco would have been worried when he heard him gasp. As
it was, the snow had risen up in shapes like waterspouts, and so Draco knew the
source of Harry�s surprise. He looked back with a wry smile and saw Harry
staring at the spouts that carried the snow back over the walls, leaving bare
stone and earth where it had been.

�� How can
you do that without pointing your wand?� Harry whispered. �I didn�t know you
could do that.�

�� Draco
blinked, not having thought that would be what had surprised him, and then reminded
himself that Harry had grown up in the Muggle world. He probably thought of
magic as something like water that had to be guided and channeled to accomplish
useful tasks, rather than being moved through and lived with. Draco would do
what he could to remedy that hole in Harry�s education.

�� For the
moment, he simply raised his eyebrows and answered, �The wards are connected to
me, and when the head of the Malfoy family is here, they act as he wants them
to. I want the courtyard cleared.�

�� Harry nodded.
There was wonder in his eyes, which went some way to soothing Draco for what
had happened today. He smiled and continued his walk to a door on the other
side of the courtyard, which he opened, the wards undoing the locking charms
and brushing away the snow that had accumulated at the bottom of it.

�� The
corridor beyond was drafty and cold, but house-elves appeared at once, bowing
and squeaking and asking for orders. Draco gave them with a haughty sneer that
he knew made Harry blink at him, but he didn�t care. The elves were happy
enough to follow his commands no matter what, and the sneer made him feel
better.

�� Fires were
lit, moldy food was thrown out and replaced with better, Warming Charms were
cast, and spilled liquids and broken glass�probably shattered in the shadow�s
tantrums�were cleaned up. Harry frowned and tilted his head in that way that
meant he was about to ask a strange question. Draco waited.

�� How did
the house get like this?� Harry was looking at a faded tapestry on the wall,
with trailing threads at the edge that indicated mouse chewing. �I thought
house-elves would automatically keep a house in order, even if no one told them
to. I don�t think anyone told them to keep cooking food and cleaning rooms at
Hogwarts.�

�� In the
beginning, orders were given,� Draco said calmly. �The house-elves there are
linked to the Headmaster. If the school had no Headmaster, then they wouldn�t
work, which is one reason a new one is always appointed as soon as possible
when one dies.� Harry�s eyes darkened, and Draco knew he was thinking about
Dumbledore. Draco continued as if his words had stirred up no memories, though.
He didn�t want this to stand between them. �And here, if the current head
Malfoy doesn�t live in the house, the elves retreat to the bare necessities to
keep the house from falling down. Lighting fires where they aren�t needed isn�t
one of them.�

�� Harry
nodded. �Will they punish themselves for failing to keep the Manor up?�

�� Not unless
I order them to.� Draco�s voice sharpened before he turned away. He couldn�t
bear to talk about house-elves�to argue about house-elves�right now. He had a
hard letter to write.

�� Harry took
the hint and followed him in silence to the library, where a fire was already
blazing. Elves bustled around, dusting, rearranging books, and cleaning up a
scarred table that the shadow had probably used a knife on. Draco commanded
that ink be brought; he could already see a quill and parchment in place.
Perhaps the shadow had meant to write a letter before Harry lured him out.

�� One of the
elves, clad in a thin strip of gauzy bandage wound about its waist, hurried
over with ink, bowing again and again, tears running down its face. Draco took
the ink, shook it once to ensure it wasn�t frozen, and looked sternly at the
creature. �You will prepare bedrooms for us, and a meal. Do you understand?�

�� Yizzy is
understanding, Lord Malfoy sir!� Yizzy pulled hard on its ears and bounced on
the balls of its feet. �The beds is being ready in instants!� It vanished, the
air rushing in behind it.

�� Harry might
have been staring at him accusingly. Draco didn�t look up to see. He sat down and
began to compose a letter to his mother.

�� In the end,
there was nothing he could say that would lessen the difficulty of the blow for
her, or the cruelty of the wound. She would blame herself for not having seen
the differences between the false Lucius and the real one right away, and there
was nothing Draco could do about that either. What he could do, what he tried,
was to explain that this hadn�t been their fault, that it was connected to the
imbalance of magic in the world.

�� He could
give his mother something to lift the blame from her shoulders�this was like an
earthquake or a storm�and something to fight.

�� While he did not cause it alone, this
imbalance in the forces of life and death is tied to the existence of Nihil and
the way he raises the living dead. The shadow would never have torn free from
my father�s body in an ordinary time, but remained a dark wish in his mind. He
tried to destroy Harry in some ways, since that is what my father desired, but
went astray in others. This is not Father�s fault, either. He did not know, and
he stayed in Azkaban, and he paid the price.

�� Draco
thought about begging Narcissa to return home, but decided against it. He still
didn�t know exactly what had happened to her�though he had seen stains among
some of the broken glass that made him dread�and he didn�t know how many evil
memories the Manor might hold. It would have to be her choice.

�� He finished,
and then he turned and held out his hand to Harry. Harry raised his eyebrows,
but took it.

�� I want to
go to bed,� Draco said quietly.

�� He had a
cold burning sensation in his chest, as if he had swallowed an icicle. He
didn�t know what that meant. He also knew that his words had been the right
ones to say, but not why.

�� He didn�t
care, as it happened. He was the Lord of the Manor, and his father was dead.
That was enough truth to bear for one day.

*

�� Harry had
expected, without knowing why, that he would go back to the bedroom that he had
spent Christmas at the Manor in, but instead the house-elves had prepared rooms
in a different part of the house. Draco said it was Lucius�s old rooms when
Harry asked about it, and in a tone of voice that said he didn�t want to
discuss it. Harry nodded and opened the door.

�� The
magnificence made him blink. If he�d ever had any reason to think about the
room where Lucius Malfoy slept�which he hadn�t�he would have imagined marble
walls and chandeliers and beds encrusted with so much gold that they weren�t
comfortable to sleep in. And of course there would probably be enormous gems
cut in half and just sitting around. Harry knew that he wasn�t adequate to
imagine what Draco�s life had really been like.

�� Instead,
there was warmth everywhere. Harry could see some gold and gems, but they were
discreet: a handle, a small cup that he thought had probably been put on a
little table and just looked at, a bedknob. The dominant color was brown
because of the wooden walls and the huge stones that made up the hearth. A fire
blazed there. Harry blinked and blinked some more, and then turned to face the
fire and held out his hands.

�� He was
cold, but he wanted to give Draco some time in the room alone, too.

�� Draco
walked back and forth, and Harry heard sliding noises like he was touching the
curtains around the bed and sighs like he was remembering things. Harry kept
his gaze on the fire and tried not to imagine what Draco must have felt when he
was a child. Maybe he came here when he had nightmares.

�� Or maybe
house-elves comforted him. Harry felt his heart ache. No matter how much he had
tried to know and understand Draco during the past few months, since their row
over his necromancy, it seemed he always had more to learn.

�� Draco finally
said something, but his words were muffled. Harry turned around, having an odd
picture of Draco standing there with one of the curtains wrapped around his
face.

�� He wasn�t
prepared for what he saw.

�� Draco stood
at the foot of the bed, which was decorated in brown, too, and green so dark
that Harry had to look twice to make sure that it was green. There were silver
pillows, but otherwise it didn�t look much like a Slytherin bed. Draco had
taken off his robe and dropped it on the floor, which was so messy and unlike
him that Harry just stared. Draco�s fingers were on the buttons of his shirt.

�� Uh, you�re
tired?� Harry asked. Of course it made sense, but he hadn�t expected it for
some reason. He turned towards the door. �I�ll ask the house-elves to show me
to my room, so you can get some sleep.�

�� There is
no other room.�

�� Harry felt
as though he had just stepped off a cliff, or at least a stair that was higher
than he�d thought. He turned around with his heart pounding in his ears, and
saw that Draco was shrugging off his shirt, to drop it on the robe. The
firelight was bright enough to show the old scars on his chest from the Sectumsempra spell.

�� Draco,� he
said. �Are you sure?� Then he realized his throat was so dry that Draco
probably hadn�t heard him. He swallowed and repeated the question.

�� Yes,�
Draco said. �I just found out my father is dead. I had to write and tell my
mother that. Portillo Lopez is covering for us at the barracks, so we don�t
need to be back by a certain hour. I�m cold and I�m lonely. And I want you.� He
had started on his trousers, and didn�t look at Harry as he spoke, seeming to
assume that of course Harry would stay where he was and agree.

�� Well, Harry thought as he watched more
and more of Draco surface from his clothes, gleaming like a dolphin, I�m not an idiot, whatever he thinks
sometimes.

�� He walked
back across the room, feeling the carpet slide under his feet like grass, and
put his arms around Draco. Draco kicked off his trousers before he leaned up
and kissed Harry hard enough to make his mouth smart.

�� This was
different from the other times, Harry knew at once, because Draco was straining
against him as if they were wrestling, and making small snarls in the back of
his throat, and his arms closed around Harry in a way that would leave bruises.
And then he turned and tumbled them onto the bed, and Harry felt suddenly
overdressed.

�� He started
pulling and clawing at his clothes, while Draco helped by tugging off his
boots. Then Draco was on top of him, moving with his mouth open, his teeth
bared, his eyes so wide and hazy that he looked like he was drowning.

�� Harry
opened his mouth to say something else, and forgot it as Draco kissed him. And
then they were struggling against each other, pushing at each other, crying and
gasping in ways that Harry had never heard.

�� They were
both getting naked, if not there yet. Draco still had his socks on, and they
got caught somehow in Harry�s robe buttons and had to be kicked at. Draco
yanked at Harry�s shirt and got it tangled around his shoulders. Harry dropped
his glasses on the floor and then thought it would probably be a good idea to
pick them up, fold them, and put them on the table.

�� Draco
crawled back atop him when they were both naked, staring at him with eyes so
wide and dilated that Harry got concerned again and reached out for him. Draco
slapped his hands down and then closed his eyes, a brief frown contorting his
features.

�� A small pot
lifted from a table nearby and settled on the bed. Harry started, and then
reminded himself that Draco could do things like that because of the wards.
Draco reached out and grabbed it.

�� Harry gave
him a shaky smile, knowing now what was going to happen next, not sure if he
was ready, and wanting to do it anyway. �Are you�Draco, are you sure?�

�� I told you that,� Draco said, and his
voice was impatient enough to reassure Harry that at least he wasn�t so
entirely under the influence of hormones not to be himself. Draco reached down,
pried open the sealed clay lid of the little pot, and pulled out a thick
fingerful of blue goo. He reached back towards his arse, brow furrowing as if
he were working on a difficult problem in Concealment and Disguise, or trying
to decide yet again if Ketchum was a good instructor despite being Muggleborn.

�� Harry watched
without breathing, which became uncomfortable in a minute. He let it out in a
whoosh, and Draco raised one eyebrow and looked down at him, asking him without
words what he was doing.

�� Harry gave
him another shaky smile. �It�s just nerves,� he said. �Draco, I�ve never done
this before�with a man, at least. Do you realize that? I don�t know if I�ll
make it very comfortable for you.�

*

�� Impatience
raged in Draco, flames that danced up and down and felt as if they were real,
they scored his back and chest so fiercely. Didn�t Harry understand? He was doing this to help him move past his grief,
because he wanted Harry, and because fucking would help him get rid of all the
emotions that boiled in him with no place to go. The last thing he wanted was
for it to be comfortable.

�� To make the
point, he shoved one more goo-slick finger into himself, catching his breath
against it, then sat down on Harry�s cock, which was more sensible than the
rest of him and already pointing almost where Draco wanted it to go.

�� It burned
more than the impatience did, and Draco clenched his jaw down on a yell. But he
sank deeper, or lower, whatever the appropriate word was here, working Harry
further into him, and Harry gasped and went white and twitched as though he was
going to die, which Draco thought was not
appropriate.

�� Breathe,
Harry,� Draco said, his own voice a high, breathless squeak. Harry should have
been the one saying that to him, he thought mindlessly, if all the words he�d
overheard in the Slytherin boys� bedrooms down the years were accurate.

�� It was hard to breathe. And he was so full,
in a way that reminded him of the way he sometimes felt after a day, crammed
full with the events of it, and waiting to fall asleep so he could forget at
least some of them.

�� Dr-Draco�hnnh��

�� Draco
forced his eyes open�the pressure of Harry�s cock in him seemed to have mashed
his eyelids down, which made no sense�and looked at Harry. He lay on his back,
of course, beneath Draco, his mouth open and his breaths coming so fast that he
sounded like a Muggle machine. Or what Draco imagined a Muggle machine sounded
like; he hadn�t heard that many of them, after all.

�� He bent
down and whispered in Harry�s ear, wriggling his arse so that Harry�s cock
would shift about a bit, �Surprising?�

�� Hnnh,�
said Harry again, which seemed to be his new language.

�� Draco
laughed�he was getting his breath, finally�and leaned back, rocking and
shifting slowly so that they could both have a chance to get used to this.
Harry�s legs trembled. Draco�s legs trembled. Everything hurt and burned
fiercely enough that Draco half-wanted to get off and lie down on the bed
beside Harry to wank him to climax as usual. But only half. �I know�I can�t
wait��

�� His
shifting paid off, and Harry�s erection stabbed against his prostate.

�� Harry
screamed, and bucked. Draco rode him still, eyes clenched shut again, hands
clutching Harry�s hips and chest. He felt as though someone had put another cock inside him, the sensation
was so sudden and shocking.��

�� When he looked
at Harry again, Harry�s mouth was hanging open, and he panted, and there were
small wet noises emerging from his mouth that weren�t pants. He looked at Draco
as if he were the center of the universe.

�� Ready?�
Draco asked, and began to ride.

*

�� Harry had
never done this before, but it wasn�t as though he was completely unprepared. He knew what happened between two men when
they had sex. In fact, he had been prepared for that to happen when he and
Draco first started sleeping together, and it had been a wonderful surprise to
find out that you could do just as many things with hands and mouths as you
could with cocks and arses.

�� But then
Draco had chosen this, and Harry didn�t want to deny him, and now he really didn�t want to deny him. Even if
he had pictured something rather different, sex shared with laughter instead of
tears.

�� Or were
there tears? Draco had his eyes shut fiercely as he rocked above Harry, his
mouth set in a scowl, but no tears stained his eyes when he peeked down at
Harry. His hair was wet, but not with weeping. There were places on his body
that gleamed with scars, but no new wounds. Harry reached up to trace the
lowest of the Sectumsempra marks with
a finger, and Draco shuddered and moved faster.

�� And the
heat and the tightness that were clasping his cock were incredible.

�� Harry shut
his eyes and ran his fingers over Draco�s skin, touching here, stroking there,
caressing and tweaking in different places. He was going to come soon. He hoped
Draco wouldn�t be horribly disappointed when he did, because Harry didn�t have
the legendary endurance that the Daily
Prophet liked to talk about him having when they speculated about his sex
life.

�� Then
something hit his chest, and he blinked and looked down, to find Draco�s penis
dripping there.

�� Oh, of
course. There was something he could do to ensure that Draco didn�t simply sit
there with a limp and soft cock inside him and have to wank himself. Harry
reached out and encircled Draco�s erection with his fingers, tugging.

�� Draco�s jaw
tumbled open. His hair flew behind him as he stared down at Harry, evidently
stunned that Harry had remembered to touch him at all. Harry gave him an
apologetic smile and pulled harder, tightening his fingers, trying to think of
how he could most imitate for Draco the clutch of Draco�s arse.

�� Something
that resembled an indignant wail started in the depths of Draco�s chest and
then broke free. His arse clamped, his thighs clamped, his fingers sank into
the skin of Harry�s hips, and Harry would swear even the skin of his cock
writhed as if trying to hold Harry�s fingers there when he began to come.

�� Harry
licked his lips as he watched the dots of white form across his stomach and
chest. He was greedier about Draco�s orgasm than he had been about any of the rest
of it, he realized in some surprise. He could have lain there and watched Draco
come and not done any of the rest of it�

�� Not done�

�� The
thoughts fragmented, and his body lurched up as he came into Draco. His hands
flailed, open, on the sheets, and then closed down and tore something, from the
sound. Draco laughed, hair bouncing again, neck shaking, gasping a few last
times in pleasure.

�� Nothing
like it, is there?� Draco sounded smug.

�� Harry shut
his eyes and tried to say something, but he couldn�t. Draco�s arse was hot and
slippery from him. He knew this
coupling had mostly been for Draco, to ease his emotions, but Harry felt it as
a gift that he didn�t know if he could ever repay.

�� He tried.
When Draco rolled off him and snuggled down beside him in the sheets, Harry
turned and kissed him, open-mouthed, shut-eyed, seeking.

�� Draco
smiled, and touched his face, and was silent.

*

�� polka dot: I�m
not sure what you�re talking about. An Auror instructor? Portillo Lopez gave
him the wand intending to help him, once she saw that the wand wouldn�t hurt
him. Also, keep in mind that Harry didn�t defeat Voldemort in a contest of
magic or will.

�� qwerty:
Thank you!

�� SP777: I�m
going to end it in a way that you probably don�t expect.

�� Dragons
Breath: Thanks! There�s a lot that Harry doesn�t understand yet about his
necromancy, though he�ll find out more in the third story.

�� SpiritOfBeyond:
I don�t think Harry and Draco will be trying to explain it to that many people. After all, most people
will just assume that Lucius died in Azkaban.

��
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Ceremonies of Strife