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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
- 55
- 56
- 57
Chapter 56- The Inner War

�� He�d
Apparated just in time, Harry reflected. A moment more in Draco�s presence, and
he might have let the fa�ade of his anger crumble. And then the rest of it
would have fallen.

�� He leaned
against the wall of his flat and breathed for long moments.

�� He�d
intended to go to the Dursleys until the moment before he Apparated. And then
he�d seen the expression on Draco�s face, and his own boiling confusion had
rushed back to the surface, and he�d changed his destination to home instead.
He had to break through both his own anti-Apparition wards and Draco�s, but he
could repair his own, and he didn�t think a small tear in the Manor�s defenses
would cost Draco much effort to heal.

�� He�d had to
leave. He was so thoroughly confused.

�� I�m
lucky I didn�t Splinch myself, Harry thought, pulling back from the wall
and shaking his head. A chair stood in front of a fireplace with a Floo
connection he�d blocked the day he returned. He didn�t want any calls from
either Draco or the Ministry interrupting him. Now he cast himself down in the
chair and closed his eyes.

�� The more he
listened to Draco, the more he started to sound- right. Not about torturing or
killing the Dursleys, but about his reasons for wanting to do so. And the more
he listened, the more Harry wanted to trust him again, to conditionally forgive
him, to stay close and watch carefully for signs that Draco was going to do
something untrustworthy again. If he didn�t, then Harry�s forgiveness could
become full and unconditional.

�� But he couldn�t
just do that, could he?

�� It would be
forgiving Draco for torture. It would be forgiving him for intent to murder. It
would be like letting an unrepentant criminal go because Harry felt sorry for
him. And that would make him far more immoral than acting in accordance with
his own beliefs had made Draco, and he would be responsible for anything Draco
did to hurt the Dursleys in the future.

�� Harry had
arrested people who�d attacked former Death Eaters, or people like Draco, who�d
been accused of complicity during the War but had managed to remain free of
Azkaban. He might not have liked their victims- in fact, in a few cases he was
absolutely sure they were the guilty ones, in many senses of the term- but
he had arrested the attackers anyway. Torture and murder weren�t things he
could look away from.

�� Similarly,
though he�d been gleeful when he arrested Bellatrix Lestrange, he hadn�t laid a
violent hand on her. At one point during the interrogation, he�d thought he
would, and so he�d left the room and calmed himself down in the corridor for an
hour. He couldn�t violate the standards of justice he believed in for
the pleasures of a moment.

�� And this
situation was a hundred times worse, because he loved Draco, and the suspicious
Slytherin voice in his head kept whispering that Draco was right in his
conclusions about the Dursleys.

�� But maybe
he wasn�t. Maybe Harry only wanted to forgive him and make excuses for
him because he loved him, and if he were rational or objective he�d see that
Draco was no different from a hundred people in Azkaban right now for cursing
others.

�� It�s not
as though he just threatened to hurt them. He actually did.

�� Harry
growled low in his throat. God, this was confusing, and he hated it so
much. He�d had a calm, clear life a few weeks ago. The things that complicated
it were usually scandals and confrontations that the higher powers in the
Ministry would handle, not him. He adjusted his routine to them when necessary,
and worked around them. He knew what he was allowed to do and what he wasn�t,
and he faithfully walked inside those boundaries.

�� And now
Draco threatened to violently upset Harry�s beliefs, just as he had his
routine. But how far did it go? How much could Harry change before he became
immoral or too permissive himself?

�� He didn�t
know, and no matter how he wrestled with the issue, he couldn�t come to a
conclusion.

�� He backed
off and did his best to approach it from a new direction, the most recent part
of the argument. Did he believe Draco when he said that Harry still carried
scars from the Dursleys? And if he did, why couldn�t he just admit that, the
way Draco wanted him to?

�� The answer
came at once.

�� Yes. But
I don�t trust him any longer. I don�t want to be that vulnerable in front of
him. And admitting pain always makes me vulnerable.

�� And if he
took the risk and trusted Draco, that might mean someone else would get hurt.
In fact, perhaps he should have gone to the Dursleys� house and put up those
wards after all. He absolutely couldn�t trust Draco, and did he want his
relatives to suffer because of his own foolishness?

�� Except that
he did trust Draco, a little.

�� Harry
cursed, and two of his books on Ministry law jumped off a shelf in answer.

�� He rose
restlessly to his feet. It was too late to fly now; it was dark, and had begun
to rain. At least he had the flying exhibition at Hogwarts to look forward to
tomorrow.

�� You
didn�t tell Draco about that, said the suspicious Slytherin voice, which
seemed to have decided it was its duty to interrogate him, Draco not being
there to do it.

�� Because
I don�t trust him.

�� You
didn�t tell him about leaving the Aurors, either, even though you know that
would please him, and maybe make him more relaxed when you started arguing.

�� Harry
closed his eyes. Well, here was one thing he did know. He was pulling back from
Draco less because he didn�t trust him than because he still wanted to guard
parts of himself, because the depth of what he felt for Draco, and the impulse
to share so much with him, still made him worried.

�� I
thought you passed that border when you let him tease you? The suspicious
Slytherin voice appeared to have a script in front of it.

�� Harry tried
to calm himself down with the breathing exercises he�d learned in Auror
training. It didn�t work. He couldn�t go flying, and he didn�t want to try to
read or even go to Diagon Alley under a glamour and mingle with the people
there. He was lonely. He wanted Draco�s company.

�� Great
trick, making me dependent on him in three weeks, he thought irritably.

�� He doesn�t
want you dependent on him, he wants you choosing freely to lean on him, said
the suspicious Slytherin voice.

�� God, shut
up, will you?� Harry said aloud, and stood, wandering into the kitchen. He
should eat something.

�� And then he
would- well, he�d write a letter to Draco. He never had to send it. In fact, it
was probably better if he didn�t. He�d use it more to work out his own emotions
and confusions than to tell Draco anything about them. When he felt up to it,
he�d send a polite owl telling Draco he would come to see him in a week or so.
He needed to calm down.

*

�� Draco
rolled his eyes. �It�s not the end of our relationship, no, Severus. We�re in
love with each other. We don�t walk away from each other that easily.�

�� You should
never have contacted Potter.� Severus�s face in the green flames of the Floo
connection was inflexible. �He�ll bring you nothing but misery and pain,
Draco.�

�� As if your
garden and your isolation spare you that!�

�� That
attracted a harangue, the way Draco had known it would, but he didn�t care.
Talking to Severus was less about asking for advice and more about easing his
own mind. He�d dashed out a letter to Harry saying it would be best if they
kept apart for a week or so, and sent it off with his black eagle-owl. The
eagle-owl was late returning with a response. Draco didn�t know if that was a
hopeful sign or not. Perhaps Harry was composing pages of invective for him.

�� Abruptly,
his owl came wheeling in through the open library door; a window was always
left wide for him, and he knew his way through the house. Draco cocked his head
in confusion. One powerful talon clutched a half-crumpled piece of parchment,
without envelope or name written on the outside, and it wasn�t bound to the
owl�s leg. Draco held up a gloved hand, wincing a little anyway as the bird
landed, and took the letter carefully from the long nails.

�� Harry�s
letter started off with a Dear Draco, but after that, the words stumbled
and scrawled and nattered their way across the page, without a sign that they�d
been planned. Draco thought he understood. Harry had written this, probably not
intending to send it, and the eagle-owl had come, dropped off his own letter,
and taken this in return. Harry might not even know it was gone. Draco�s owl
was too clever for his own good sometimes.

�� Of course,
it didn�t occur to Draco not to read it. He was getting a glimpse of
Harry�s mind unguarded, and perhaps that might let him understand the idiot
further.

�� The idiot,
it seemed, repented of his own idiocy.

�� I don�t
know what to do. I�m on the verge of forgiving you, and then I think of the way
you stood over the Dursleys with your wand in your hand, and a smile on your
face, like you were enjoying it. That makes me wonder and worry. Are you
really that sadistic bastard?

�� Except I
know you�re not, because no sadistic bastard could have taken care of me like
you did. And I love you, and I�m sure that I couldn�t be fooled that thoroughly-
not anymore. Besides, what would be the point of kidnapping me the way you did instead
of wooing me more gently if you really wanted to keep yourself secret from me?
It doesn�t make sense.

�� Nothing
about this does.

�� I keep
thinking you�re right. I keep thinking I can�t let you be right, because that
would mean I�m condoning torture. I keep thinking that even if I decide you�re
right, I can never let you know, because you�d try to persuade me to go and
take revenge on the Dursleys after all.

�� They did
hurt me, you know. I can admit that much. Maybe it wouldn�t have been so bad
without Dudley there to compare, but seeing him receive birthday gifts when I
didn�t, and have friends when I didn�t, and be loved when I wasn�t, scarred me
the worst. I knew what I was missing. Besides, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia
kept reminding me of it. They mentioned my parents all the time, just to
emphasize that they weren�t there. They made sure Dudley was a pet with Aunt
Marge and I wasn�t, because even a woman as hateful as she is could love
Dudley, and she couldn�t love me, so- what did that make me?

�� I can
remember just deciding, around the time I was six or seven, that I didn�t want
to be hurt anymore. I still was, because I couldn�t help getting my hopes up,
as in that birthday memory you saw. But I tried my hardest not to be. I knew
I�d grow up and could leave the Dursleys someday. I�d endure until then. I had
no idea what I would find in the world outside their house, but I knew the
world was there. I had vague dreams of- something better. I can�t even give it
a name.

�� And then
there was the wizarding world, but that wasn�t exactly restful. And I
still had to go back to the Dursleys�, except now I knew why they hated me. And
I didn�t think it was a good reason to hate me. It wasn�t like I could help
being born with magic, or suppress it; I�ve read about wizards trying to ignore
their magic and completely failing. I read about that when I thought about
giving up my magic after Voldemort. The books I found convinced me that that
was a non-resort, because it wouldn�t work.

�� But I
don�t want to tell you this, because it means you could use my words to hurt
me. So that�s decided, then. I won�t send this letter.

��

�� Besides,
I walked out of their house the moment I turned seventeen and the protection of
the blood wards ended. I really don�t see the point of bringing it all up
again. I suffered it, and it still affects me, but why should they suffer? Why
should they be punished for something they never considered wrong, and that I
want to ignore? We�re the parties concerned in it, and it should be up to us what
happens. Not to you, Draco.

�� I miss
you so much. And ugh, why did I write that? I�d strike it out, except I don�t
know if I have the coordination to hold the quill much longer- I�m so tired- and
there�s more I want to say.

�� I walked
out on the Aurors on Monday. I insulted Madam Bones in the bargain. And I�m
going flying at Hogwarts tomorrow, in an exhibition of stunt brooms. I have a
Nimbus now. I�m moving on with my life. I could have a life even if we ended up
disagreeing forever.

�� But I
want you there, in my life. And I can�t come up with any other answer than the
fact that I love you.

�� I don�t
know. That seems to be my mantra lately.

�� Draco
looked up, and stared at the far wall for a moment. Half his mind crowed with
delight. Half wanted to shake Harry, and demand to know why the idiot
hadn�t just confessed this, because it would have made things so much easier.

�� Bad news
from your boyfriend?� Severus inquired snidely.

�� I have to
plan,� Draco said, and reached out to close the Floo connection. �Good-bye,
Severus.�

�� Severus
looked astonished- most of the time, he was the one to end their conversations,
not Draco- but then his face vanished. Draco went to find treats for the
eagle-owl, who surely deserved them for being such a wonderful bird and bringing
this letter.

�� Yes, Harry
hadn�t wanted him to see it, and would no doubt be distressed to realize it was
gone. But Draco could still use the information in it, without seeming to use
it. His strategy, now that he knew Harry partially agreed with him instead of
being fixed in unalterable opposition, would be gentle, coaxing, giving Harry
the choice of liberation from him while showing how much he could have if he
stayed. Harry didn�t want to feel crowded and pressured to agree; well, Draco
wouldn�t crowd and pressure him. He�d show Harry that he could live his
own life, too, but that their lives would be the most pleasant when they
coincided with each other�s. And he�d begin doing that when he attended the
exhibition at Hogwarts tomorrow.

�� But it
would still have been easier if he�d just told me all of this in the first
place.
- 55
- 56
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Learning Life Over