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Learning Life Over	By : Meander Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 69712 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
- 45
- 46
- 47
Chapter 46- Their Separate Courses

�� Harry
rubbed water off his hair, and then settled back in the chair with a sigh. This
wasn�t the pool that Draco had used to seduce him the first day he came to the
Manor, but a close cousin of it, scented with violets instead of roses and
lying in a corner of the extensive northern wing. Trippy had guided him to it
when Harry asked, and had also brought him towels, shampoo, and soap. Harry had
almost forgotten the conveniences of having house-elves. He didn�t have one himself;
that had started as a way of honoring Hermione�s memory, but evolved, as so
much in his life had, into a way of forgetting everything outside his work.

�� He had
bathed, and slept, and eaten, and had extremely good sex with Draco.

�� He had to
think. He couldn�t put it off any longer.

�� He closed
his eyes and rubbed his hair one final time. No matter how he patted at it, it
wouldn�t lie flat, and though Trippy had offered to bring him some oil she
claimed would keep it down, Harry didn�t see the point.

�� So Snape
hates me.

�� Harry
snorted. That had been the least surprising thing he�d learned in Snape�s
garden, and not the one he needed to think about. He�d make an effort to get
along with Snape for Draco�s sake, but, in reality, he didn�t care if the man
hated him or not. Let him sneer and snarl. Harry would continue being a part of
Draco�s life regardless.

�� As if
you have a choice, after what you gave him yesterday.

�� Harry
shifted uneasily. He couldn�t regret the choice, but that was at least partially
because Draco hadn�t given him a reason to regret it yet. He still could, and
then Harry would be left feeling like a fool for making himself so weak,
without the ability to build the walls around his heart back up again.

�� Enough.

�� Optimism
came no more easily to Harry than trust did, but the fact remained that not
enough time had passed for him to decide if he�d made a mistake. Until more
did, he was better off not thinking about how he�d surrendered to Draco,
either.

�� And that
left him with no shields between himself and what he�d most dreaded thinking
about.

�� Am I
going back to the Ministry or not?

�� Harry
opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. That gave him no help, patterned as
it was with diving schools of sunfish and swordfish, but no secret instructions
on how to get the Ministry off his back, or turn away from Auror work when he
knew he could help their victims.

�� What Snape
had said reverberated in his head. He might believe he was necessary, but the
Ministry would find someone to take his place eventually. No doubt, he wasn�t
as essential as he�d believed himself to be.

�� But of
course Snape would say that. He hadn�t wanted to be Potions master at
Hogwarts, and he hadn�t enjoyed guiding and protecting his students for their
own sake, as far as Harry knew, while Harry had chosen his career of his own
free will. If the Weasleys and Hermione had lived, he would not have placed
himself in emotional isolation, but he would still have chased Dark wizards. He
couldn�t imagine another path for his future, not now.

�� And
that�s the problem, isn�t it? That if you give up being an Auror, it�s not for
something better, but for a great big blank.

*

�� Draco
landed softly in front of the Muggle home on Privet Drive and spent some time
listening. This time, he heard no cracks that sounded like Apparition, and when
he cast a detection spell, it revealed no magic but his own. Draco smirked and
glided towards the door. The light of a new telly-vision came through the
window, but he heard no voices from it; instead, the three Dursleys were
talking in harsh, frightened tones.

�� - don�t know
what�s wrong, Vernon!� the aunt said in a high-pitched, nasal tone that made
Draco wince and feel sorrier for Harry than ever. Imagine growing up
listening to that! �That�s always been the problem with these freaks. The
authorities can�t do anything about them, because they don�t know about the- the
freakishness, and wouldn�t believe us if we told them!�

�� I don�t
want a freak breaking into my home like that and able to do whatever he likes,�
the uncle snorted, sounding like a bulldog. �If we can�t go to the authorities,
Petunia, I insist that we set traps.�

�� They can
disarm them.� There was a sniffle, and when Draco shifted his position, he
could see Petunia wiping tears away. �You know that. Just one wave of a- a wand,
and they can do whatever they like to us.�

�� But why
are they doing it?� Harry�s cousin moaned. Draco curled his lip as he realized
the boy was eating. Of course, not even danger must keep him from filling his
stomach. Draco stifled laughter at the vision of scaring Dudley out of his home
and having the boy stop to grab a sandwich on the way. �I mean, we got rid of
Harry a long time ago, and- �

�� Do not say
that name!� Vernon shouted, turning purple in the face.

�� No
wonder Dogfoot couldn�t find a trace of psychic residue here, Draco
thought, twirling his wand between his fingers. He cast a glamour on himself
and stood, moving towards the door. They won�t even say his name. They deny
that there�s a wizard living here, and so it�s hard for magic to take notice.

�� Your
freakish cousin has nothing to do with this,� Vernon was saying as Draco
reached the front door.

�� How very
wrong you are, Draco thought, and plastered a friendly smile on his face to
knock the Muggles off-guard for the necessary few seconds until he could get
inside.

*

�� What
else do you want to do?

�� Harry had
asked himself the question five minutes ago. So far, there still came no answer
from the depths of his mind.

�� He snapped
his eyes open and stood restlessly, reaching for the robes that Trippy had left
beside the chair. He didn�t know where Draco had gone, only that he�d said
something about wanting to be alone, so he couldn�t seek him out and talk to
him. That left him at the mercy of his own mind, and his running thoughts,
which continually tried to come up with something he was interested in besides
catching Dark wizards, and found nothing.

�� And I
did want to do it, and I made a difference for so many people. They told me so.
Maybe Snape made a difference for his Slytherin students, too, but he taught a
lot more who never learned anything about potions. It was easy for him to walk
away. It�s not as easy for me.

�� Yet if he
stayed, he would sink. Harry didn�t think he was strong enough to resist the
pressure of the Ministry forever. Show him one crying child, one grieving
parent, he could make a difference for, and Harry would start running towards
them. Draco could help steady him, but only if he stayed away from the Ministry
entirely. And if he insisted on working, it was bound to lead to more arguments
with Draco. Yet he couldn�t imagine lying around the Manor forever, either,
doing nothing more strenuous than attending dinner parties with people he
disliked and playing Quidditch.

�� Harry
wanted escape from the Ministry, and he didn�t want it. He wanted to embrace a
different life, but the life had to be there to embrace first.

�� Tentatively,
a new suggestion crept into his mind and set up house. It was that he confess
his problems to Draco and ask for help. Draco would be happy to search for
something else he could do, and if his first suggestions weren�t good enough,
perhaps he would hit on something Harry liked and wanted to do. He�d proven
that he understood Harry well enough to heal him so far. Perhaps he would be
the one who located the path Harry needed but didn�t know about, the same way
he�d been the only one to notice when Harry needed help.

�� Harry
shoved the thought away, though. He didn�t want to depend on Draco for
everything. He�d done enough already. This was something Harry wanted to figure
out for himself.

*

�� Good
evening,� Draco said, when Vernon opened the door. He concealed his disgust at
the sight of the rolling ripples of fat that traveled down the man�s neck and chin
and made him look like a walrus. �My name is Harold Jameson, and I have some
information about the intruder into your house the other day.�

�� His glamour
was perfect, he knew, hiding his gray eyes behind brown ones, his blond hair
behind dark strands touched with a few spots of gray, and sculpting his face so
that it could look more innocent and helpful than it ever could in its natural
state. Vernon stared at him anyway, his hand tightening on the door. �And just
where are you from?� he demanded in a harsh whisper.

�� Draco
smiled and held up his hand as if displaying identification. In fact, he showed
his wand, which sparked with a blood-red light. Vernon�s eyes went down and
locked on it in horrified fascination.

�� I have
information,� Draco repeated brightly, and said in a soft voice, �If you want
your neighbors to see what happens next, by all means remain where you are, fat
man.�

�� Vernon�s
eyes darted frantically from side to side for a moment. Then he grunted and
moved out of the way, though he was still trying to keep his body between Draco
and his wife and son. Draco gave him a faint smile and followed him inside,
shutting the door gently behind them.

�� Who is it,
Vernon?� Petunia shrilled, circling up behind him. She saw Draco�s wand and
shut up in an instant.

�� This does
concern Harry Potter,� Draco said, and didn�t bother keeping his voice low
anymore. He heard Dudley squeal from the next room, and barely suppressed a
snort. The cupboard door was visible from where he stood, and his mood changed
in a moment. Draco shook his head to calm himself. �I know what you did to him.
Several people know, as a matter of fact.�

�� We never
did anything to him,� Petunia hissed, since Vernon seemed too petrified
to speak. �Except give him food too good for him to eat and a warm place to
sleep- �

�� Then I
suppose mentions of a cupboard don�t remind you of anything,� Draco said,
taking a step forward. They backed off two steps. �Or withholding food from
him.� Another step, and this time they scrambled away until their backs touched
the wall. �Or insisting that he do chores endlessly, chores that you didn�t
require your son to share in. Or telling him lies about his parents.�

�� None of
that is abuse- � Petunia began in a superior tone. Draco had the feeling
she�d prepared a speech just in case anyone ever questioned her about this.

�� Or letting
your son beat him up,� Draco said. �Or locking him in his room for incidents
that weren�t his fault.� He had to fight to keep his wand from snapping in his
hand. He wouldn�t have cared about most of the things he listed if they
happened to someone else, but this was Harry, and Harry mattered
to him.

�� See here,�
said Vernon, apparently having recovered.

�� Draco
snapped his wand out and murmured, �Dirimo adflatus.�

�� Vernon
stopped breathing. His eyes blinked for several seconds, began to water, and
then bulged. His hands rose and clawed at his throat. As he fell, Petunia
stooped over him, screaming. Draco rolled his eyes.

�� He released
the spell. Vernon sucked in a great whooping lungful of air and began to cough.
Draco waited until the sound had died, then cast a spell that turned Petunia�s
ears into the ears of a donkey. She cried out, then quickly slammed her mouth
shut when she realized her voice had become a bray.

�� Dudley
peered around the corner of the next room. Draco turned his legs to stone,
purely as an academic exercise. Dudley didn�t even whimper, just opened his
mouth and began to blubber in silence, big fat tears rolling down cheeks that
were more than a match for them.

�� Vernon had
worked his way back to his feet. He stared from his wife to his son, and his
face turned red.

�� You see,�
Draco said quietly, letting his true, cold tones slice through the helpful
voice of Harold Jameson, and snapping Vernon around to face him
instantaneously, �there is no longer any reason for me to ignore what happened
to Harry. And I can do anything to you. Anything at all.� He cocked his head
and smirked, then inflated Vernon with a twitch of his wand. He�d heard Harry�s
tale of accidentally using the Engorgement Charm on his aunt when he was
thirteen; Draco didn�t make Vernon quite as large as Harry had probably made
Marge, but he bobbed near the ceiling, looking ready to either cry or shit his
trousers.

�� This is
far from the end,� Draco said, looking from one of them to the other. �I can do
anything I like to you, any time at all. And this is the barest taste of what
revenge I�m going to take for Harry. You�re helpless. You don�t know
when I�ll return, what I�ll do. Just know that it�s going to be worse next
time.� He could feel his smirk turning decidedly unpleasant, and didn�t try to
stop it. �Sweet dreams.�

�� He
Apparated away, and when he went, the magic ended. But he cast a curse as he
vanished, so that all three Muggles would have violent nightmares any time they
fell asleep, dreams that took the memories of his visit and distorted them into
something even worse than they�d been.

�� Draco
didn�t intend to play with them much longer, really. He wanted to close in and
show them just how irritated he was at what they�d done to Harry. But
for now, he was enjoying the tormenting, cat-like games.

�� Harry would
never understand. That was all right. Draco could explain it to him when all
this was over.

*

�� After some
time spent cursing and muttering to himself, Harry came reluctantly to the only
conclusion that made any sense.

�� Things had
to change. He couldn�t just go back to the Ministry and pretend he�d never
left. For one thing, Madam Bones wasn�t about to let him; for another, he
couldn�t summon that emotionless shell any more, so he couldn�t do his work as
efficiently as he used to.

�� But he
didn�t know what was next. He would walk away from the Ministry, but he had
nothing to walk to, not yet.

�� That scared
him senseless.

�� He would
have to do it anyway.

�� Harry took
a deep breath and opened his eyes. Since Draco had done so much for him
already, and Harry didn�t want to bother him with this- or perhaps he didn�t
want to give any more power over his future into Draco�s hands- he would do the
next most sensible thing, and talk to Theresa.
- 45
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Learning Life Over