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Siege Mentality	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7869 -:- 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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Part V. At Home

�� Harry
extended the letter gingerly to the great horned owl he had discovered in the
Manor�s Owlery. Maybe it was stupid of him, but he hadn�t quite got over the
distrust of his surroundings that traveling with Draco had inspired. �Can you
carry this to Kingsley Shacklebolt?� he asked.

�� The owl
fixed him with one implacable golden eye. It couldn�t speak, but Harry could see its scorn. He swallowed, gave it a
shame-faced grin, and then extended the letter again. The owl snatched it,
spread its wings, and soared out the Owlery window with, of course, absolute silence.

�� It was a
gray day, with clouds crowding in from all corners of the sky, but a single
shaft of sunlight did manage to fall on the Manor. Harry rested his elbows on
the windowsill and looked up at it, frowning.

�� He had
looked through most of the likely-looking books in the ground floor Manor
library yesterday whilst Draco bathed and slept and ate and, in general,
recovered from the chase that had led him through the desert and the forest.
Harry hadn�t been able to locate a mention of any wild talent in the Black
family that resembled the one Draco had. Today he was going to try the less
likely-looking books, and scan the ones on curses and Dark Arts�which were
enough to fill five solid-looking shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling
in the upstairs library�on the off chance that Draco�s recollections were bad
and they were dealing with Dark magic instead of wild magic after all.

�� It could still be a curse. His ancestor
could have cursed him. You don�t know that she didn�t.

�� But there
was so little to go on. Harry had urged Draco to remember as much he could of
the ritual he had conducted, and he had said he would try, but the doubtful,
despairing look on his face had quashed Harry�s hopes effectively. And though
Harry knew Draco needed time to recover, he was nervous that one day hadn�t
produced much of a chance in Draco�s mood. He was still unable to see Harry as
human, unable to remember exactly what had caused him to start running in the
first place.

�� What if he doesn�t recover?

�� At that,
Harry straightened and shook his head. He wasn�t going to start thinking like that. If he didn�t know anything about
the curse or the wild talent haunting Draco, then he couldn�t say for certain
that it would never dissipate.

�� And until
he saw some indubitable sign of that, he would go on fighting and trying to
make Draco recognize him. He would drag Draco out of the swamp of mental
illness on his back if he had to.

�� It�s not going to consume my friend without
a fight. I can fight if he can�t.

�� Harry
turned and left the Owlery with brisk steps. If he hurried, he should be able
to catch Draco in the breakfast room and try one more time to drag him back to sanity
before Harry lost himself in books for the day and Draco lost himself in
staring at the wall.

*

�� Draco sat
at the table in the breakfast room, staring at the quarter of grapefruit in
front of him. Now and then he took a bite, but most of the time, he seemed
about as enthusiastic as Harry remembered Dudley being when Aunt Petunia had
put him on a diet. Sometimes he shuddered as if it were taking him an effort
just to sit in front of the food and not circle the room, looking about for
pursuers.

�� I have to show him that he doesn�t have
anything to fear. Or, at least, nothing to fear from me. Harry still had no
idea if any of Draco�s enemies had ever been real.

�� Draco,� he
said softly.

�� At once,
Draco leaped out of his chair and faced the door, his breath coming fast but an
almost grateful expression on his face, as if he were happy the worst had come
at last. He blinked and caught himself with one hand on the table when he
realized it was Harry standing there, then turned his head disconsolately away.
�It�s you,� he said.

�� Yes.� Harry
paused, then asked gently, �Has a second night made any difference in how you
see me?�

�� No,� Draco
whispered. �You still look like a whirlwind with teeth and claws. A little like
a bear, but less solid.�

�� Harry
nodded and edged around Draco to get his own breakfast, which the house-elves
had made and left thoughtfully on a smaller table Harry could imagine Lucius or
Narcissa using to hold business correspondence. A piece of toast, eggs, and his
own grapefruit, with orange juice; Harry had never had the time or the need in
the last few years for elaborate meals, unless he was celebrating with his
friends or similar. He bit into the toast and asked through the mouthful, �Is
grapefruit all you�re eating?�

�� Draco
wrinkled his nose. �Don�t speak with your mouth full, Harry or whoever you are,�
he said sharply. �That�s disgusting.�

�� Harry
openly grinned, despite the pieces of toast he knew were stuck in his teeth.
Draco wouldn�t be able to see them with the delusion obscuring his face,
anyway. As if Draco still knew what he was doing, he rolled his eyes and turned
away.

�� I want to make him exasperated and
irritated. That�s the surest way to bring him back to normal. Harry took
another bite and said, �I don�t want you falling down on me later in the day
because of low blood sugar. Is that all you�re eating?�

�� You still
talk like a Muggle,� Draco said. �Blood sugar this and blood pressure that.� He
picked up the grapefruit and took another bite. �There. Are you happy?�

�� No,� Harry
said. �I�m never happy. Ask anyone. I�m the grouchy Auror of the Department,
they�ll tell you.�

�� Draco
looked down, but not before Harry had seen the corner of his mouth twitch up in
a smile.

�� And,�
Harry went on, �that doesn�t answer my question. Did you eat something other
than that? Are you prepared for a long day of research?�

�� Why should
I be the one doing the research?� Draco picked up a piece of grapefruit and
threw it moodily across the kitchen. Harry winced as it hit the wall with a wet
smack, then wondered why. The Malfoys had house-elves; they would take care of
it. He reckoned that having a succession of partners who�d been much more
obsessed with neatness than he ever was had conditioned him to react badly,
instinctively, when things were dropped on the floor. �I probably can�t see the
real words in the books anyway, since I�m not seeing you as you really are.�

�� Harry held
his breath with hope. This was the first time Draco had spoken of doubting his
own perceptions as a serious thing.

�� Draco
turned around then and braced his hands on the table behind him, as if he
thought that he would have to resist the charge of a beast like the one Harry
appeared to him as. �Why haven�t you scolded me?� he asked, in a low voice. �If
I saw other people as animals, then I may have killed them, the way I tried to
kill you when we first met. Why haven�t you got angry at me about that and
yelled?�

�� I don�t
know that that happened,� Harry said, as calmly as he could when his heart was trying
to beat its way out of his chest in excitement. �Until I have proof that it
did, there�s nothing to accuse you about. Besides, you weren�t yourself when
you slaughtered them, if that�s what you did.�

�� Draco turned
his head with a pride and grace that made Harry�s breath catch in his throat.
No, he knew that Draco wasn�t fully recovered in mind or soul or even body, but
no one else would know it, from the way he looked at that moment: cool and
disdainful. Harry swallowed. His mouth was much too full of saliva, but he
would have to think about why later, because Draco was speaking again. �So you�ll
patronize me? Think of me as a poor victim, mentally ill and not responsible
for my own actions?�

�� Not a
victim,� said Harry, knowing that he had to pick his words carefully or risk
wounding Draco�s pride. And he needs his
pride so much right now, to help him recover. �But yes, not responsible for
your actions, in the same way that someone under the Imperius Curse wouldn�t
be.�

�� Draco was
silent for a moment, picking moodily at his fingernails now. Harry resisted the
impulse to reach out and stop him. He knew that Draco wouldn�t do this in a
normal mood, and he wanted to spare his hands, but he also knew that Draco
probably wouldn�t take it well if giant claws snatched at him.

�� That still
sounds patronizing,� Draco said at last.

�� Harry blew
his breath out hard and leaned on the larger table himself. �Sorry,� he said. �I�ve
been trying to speak as carefully as I can. You�ve suffered enough that I don�t
want to hurt you more.�

�� You�re
pitying me,� Draco said, and again there came that magnificent turn of his
head, which reminded Harry of his stag Patronus when it was facing Dementors.
Harry actually stared in fascination before he blinked and managed to take his
eyes away.

�� Sweet Merlin, what�s wrong with me? I never
reacted this strongly to him before he went to France. Is it just the shock of
seeing him again, after all these years? Is he really that changed?

�� I feel
sorry for you,� Harry said. �You needn�t have suffered under this curse at all,
if only because it shouldn�t have been cast on you. Or I wish you could have
discovered what you needed to know about the wild talent before it manifested,
if that�s what it is. So, yes, I�m sorry for you. Damn sorry. But it�s not
pity.�

�� Draco stood
for a moment, staring at the floor. He�d stopped the picking at his nails, but
his fingers flexed open and closed and dug into the flesh of his palms, which
Harry wasn�t sure was an improvement.

�� You�re
being careful with me,� Draco said suddenly, and in such a weird tone that Harry
couldn�t tell whether he was accusing Harry or not. �You�re handling me as if I
were made of spun glass.�

�� Don�t you
deserve that?� Harry asked impulsively. �With the creatures after you and the
spell hauling you from place to place for months, don�t you deserve to have someone take care of you
as gently as I�m trying to?�

�� I�m
suspicious about your motive, of course,� said Draco, with a blandness that was
new, and which Harry wondered if he had learned in France to cover his
emotions. Most of the time, when he�d known him, Draco had been passionately
invested in everything, defending himself or attacking on the simplest things,
and hadn�t been able to manage neutrality to save his life. �If you want to
take care of me because it�s something you would have done anyway, or because I�m
just so weak and pitiful right now.�

�� Would you
stop talking about pity?� Harry hit the table with his palm. �I don�t pity you
right now, I sympathize with you because
I can imagine how awful it would be to be dragged from place to place like that,
but if you go on talking then I might take your advice and pity you after all.�

�� You stole
Harry�s temper, too,� Draco said, without smiling, and then left the room.

�� Harry blew
in irritation, rolled his eyes, shook his head until his fringe fell in his
eyes the way it usually did, and then turned to finish the rest of his
breakfast. Draco hadn�t changed in one thing, at least. He was just as
exasperating as ever.

*

�� Found
anything?�

�� Harry started.
He�d been deeply immersed in a book of Dark Arts that seemed promising; it was
about causing mental disorientation and confusion to your enemies, and even
though Harry knew well enough that the thing Draco carried around with him was
something other people could feel, it was possible that someone had worked out
a physical version of the mental curse. He looked up now and put a finger in
his book.

�� Draco
leaned against the doorway of the library and looked at him with a mild
expression that was probably intended to be apologetic. But Harry narrowed his
eyes. He knew that look. Draco was
about to change the entire tenor of the conversation. He�d looked like that
right before he told Hermione that he was researching people who had swallowed
whales, rather than the other way around, and if it was true that pregnancy
felt like that.

�� Yes?� he
asked, shifting the book so that, if Draco really
surprised him, it wouldn�t drop out of his lap and onto the floor. It felt
like its binding was too weak to survive that, and Harry didn�t really want fragile
paper marked with Dark curses and probably enchanted with protective spells,
too, flying everywhere.

�� I
remembered what my ancestor said to me.�

�� Harry
choked, then decided that, when Draco flinched, he might not be able to hear
the sound as anything but a growl, and certainly wouldn�t know that it was
meant for a noise of surprise. �Well?� he demanded, leaning forwards. �What did
she say?�

�� She said,�
Draco said, and his voice dropped as if he were intoning a prophecy, ��may you
bear what I have borne, but in greater power as befits your nature, and
changing to suit your needs.��

�� Harry
smiled and set the book down. �It�s a wild talent, then. And you�re sure that
she was a Black? And that she was your great-great-grandmother?�

�� I�m not
sure how many generations back anymore,� Draco said quietly. �As certain parts
of the memory come clearer, others fade, as if there was some balance they
needed to keep up.� He traced a hand up and down the grooves in the wall next
to him, which were so delicate Harry wondered what they were there for. They
weren�t especially attractive decorations. �But she was a Black, yes.�

�� Great,�
Harry said, and stood up to put the book he was holding back on the shelf. At a
wave of his wand, most of the books in the pile he�d had waiting flew up to
join them. �Then we should look into the history of the Blacks, and at all the
females, and the wild talents they�ve carried.�

�� I don�t understand
it,� Draco whispered, half to himself. �My mother made sure that I knew all
about the dangerous magic that could have come from her family, because she
wanted to make sure I knew all about
her family. I think she thought the Blacks were more important than the
Malfoys.� Harry concealed a smile, then remembered it wouldn�t matter anyway. �But
I�ve never heard of anything like this.�

�� Maybe she
didn�t know about it,� Harry said cheerfully. �Maybe it�s the kind of thing
that they put in books but didn�t tell a daughter.�

�� I don�t
really think it�ll be in books if it wasn�t in my mother�s memory.� Draco
folded his arms obstinately. �The Blacks were the kind of people to tell things
to their descendants instead of write them down.�

�� Really?�
Harry arched an eyebrow as he turned to the section of the library he had
already seen stocked with family history. �All the time? Even when they thought
their descendants might use the secrets against them?�

�� Draco
looked suddenly thoughtful. Harry nodded. �Exactly. And, if everything goes
well, then I can ask Shacklebolt to send us books from the Black library
itself, which I have access to as the owner of Grimmauld Place. Maybe they�d
store their secrets in their ancestral home.�

�� I�d like
to go there,� Draco whispered. �When this burden is lifted, I mean, and I can
see properly again. I never spent enough time there when I knew you�before. I
was trying to deny being a Black, then.�

�� You were?�
Harry paused with his hand on a shelf of books and stared at him. He had never
known Draco believed anything of the kind, or that he had spent little time in
Grimmauld Place because of it.

�� Yes.�
Draco added, slowly, as if Harry were dragging the words out of him simply by
listening, �It�s for the same reason that I eventually contacted my Black
ancestors. I never felt at home in my mother�s family. I didn�t have all the
traits that my mother said I should have, so at first I ignored the family�s
existence and its part in my blood altogether. If they wouldn�t appear in me,
then I wouldn�t acknowledge them.�

�� And that�s
why you moved to France, isn�t it?� Harry spoke as he felt his mind twist and
catapult him into Draco�s thoughts. It worked that way so often with Dark
wizards, but he�d never seen so brightly into any of his friends before, and he
thought this was far more pleasant. �To
be with your father�s relatives, you said. As if you could stop being Black by
becoming more Malfoy.�

�� Draco
actually took a step away from him, his shoulders straightening and his head
turning in rejection. Even that movement was graceful, Harry thought, and felt
a swelling and stirring that was partially from his groin and partially from
his heart. He�d never known that Draco contained this many contradictions, this
many unknown qualities. He�d always been a little
interested, in the same way that some gay men of his acquaintance wondered
idly about fucking anyone who was gay, but this ran deeper than that. Maybe
Draco�s combination of strangeness and familiarity was just what he needed to
push that academic interest into a romantic one.

�� I didn�t
tell you that,� Draco said, speaking from between gritted teeth.

�� I know,�
Harry said, and made sure he sounded apologetic, because, no matter how
fascinating he found these
revelations, for Draco they probably sounded terrifying, as if Harry was using
Legilimency on him. �It�s a thing I do now. I can get into the heads of Dark
wizards. That�s how I track them.�

�� I�m not a
Dark wizard.� This time, Draco was speaking as though he�d like to walk across
the room and punch Harry in the jaw, as if they were back at Hogwarts.

�� I know,�
Harry said hastily. Bollocks. Now he�ll
think I�m patronizing him again. �But it works the same way. I mean, when I
think about someone for long enough and wonder why they�re doing what they�re
doing, it�s like I jump into their heads.�

�� Well, stop
doing it,� Draco whispered. �After so long, I think the inside of my head should be mine, at least.�

�� And he
turned and marched away before Harry could stop him, or apologize. Harry
sighed, and thought about going after him, but Draco probably wanted privacy
now. He turned back to the family history books.

*

�� Draco flung
himself on his bed and stared at the wall. Then he decided that didn�t express
his feelings sufficiently well, and folded his arms and muttered whilst staring
at the wall.

�� He couldn�t
see Harry�and by now he was almost certain it was Harry�thanks to the mask of
wind that covered him, the teeth and the claws, but he could hear him just
fine. And that voice spoke conclusions Draco was coming to hate and distrust.

�� How can I do anything but distrust someone
who�s trying to understand me, after the months and months of creatures chasing
me? Even if they were real people, they never spoke to me the way he did. They
only snarled and growled. And then he sweeps in and acts as if he knows
everything and as if he wants to help me with everything, and he sounds
patronizing whether or not he wants to.

�� Maybe, if he�s going to sound patronizing
whether or not he wants to, I shouldn�t blame him.

�� Draco
huffed, rolled over, and stared at the ceiling. Well, he didn�t want to stop blaming Harry right now, so
there.

�� But since
the war, he�d never been that good at lying to himself. He�d known when he began
to feel uneasy because he didn�t have any traits of the Black family. He�d
known what he was really running from, or to, when he moved to France. He�d
known what it meant when he began to stare at Harry too long, and that part of
the reason he�d gone away was to try and know himself better, to make peace
with himself, so that he could be worthy of Harry, who always seemed so whole
and undivided.

�� And he
knew, now, that he resented the way Harry made him hope, more than anything
else. What if he got up his hopes and then they were dashed again? That would
hurt far more than finding out that the creature with Harry�s voice wasn�t
really Harry, which a day ago had been the most horrible thing Draco could
imagine.

�� If he trusts me, if he�s trying to take care
of me, if he came seeking me and he won�t leave me until he figures this out�

�� If he can cure me�

�� But I don�t know that he can. And I don�t just
want to sit around and be rescued, anyway, even if I have to.

�� Draco
scowled and kicked the blankets. I wish
there was some way I could prove that I�m competent, too.

�� And then
the world around him melted and changed, and the bed tilted backwards and went
sliding into an abyss.

�� As he
hurtled past flecks of stone and stars, Draco�s one comfort was that his hopes
hadn�t had very long to linger before
they were dashed.

*

�� DTDY: Harry
is getting closer!

�� callistianstar:
Oh, Draco is still Draco, which by definition means �difficult.� ;)

�� Well, in
this case Draco definitely contacted his Black ancestors, and not his Malfoy
ones.

�� Word_Slave:
A little less oblivious now!

�� SP777:
Dark, not quite solid body, like a tornado. Claws and teeth. Vague
approximations of a head and arms.

�� Akumu_Suta-Raito:
I can see where you�re getting that. And Harry and Draco did think about each
other, but not as seriously as they�re doing now (in part because Draco is
really bringing out Harry�s protective instincts).

�� Harry and
Draco actually don�t know the nature of the �creatures� yet.

�� Fallen_angel1129:
Nice to see you again. Thanks for reviewing.

�� hieisdragoness18:
They seem to be on the right track, but not they�ve been taken away from the
books again.

�� Delfina:
Thank you! We�re getting closer to answers on all accounts, but we�re not there
yet.

�� Mangacat:
No, it�s not clear yet. But I�m planning for more to come clear next chapter.

�� Black
Padfoot: Thank you!
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