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The Serenity of His Rage	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16981 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Six—Speeding Towards the Goal
            You must use your Invisibility Cloak or whatever other means you possess to leave Gryffindor Tower just before curfew. Come to the Astronomy Tower and meet me there. Bring your broom. We will fly out beyond the outskirts of Hogwarts and Apparate to the Manor from there.
            Harry sighed and tucked the parchment Malfoy had sent him away, then fed a bit of bacon to his staring owl. The bird hadn’t waited for a reply, but simply took off. Harry knew Malfoy wouldn’t be looking at him, either. His emotions had been blowing the cold, steady wind for two days.
            As far as Malfoy was concerned, this insane plan to rescue his father was set, and they didn’t need to communicate anymore.
            “Who’s that from, Harry?”
            Harry felt his stomach churn. He hated lying to his best friends, even though Ron was a lot more likely to accept a lie than Hermione was. Luckily (or not), Hermione sat with her nose literally almost closed in a book, an enormous one that she hadn’t looked up from for the last hour.
            “Dumbledore,” he murmured. He even did have an appointment with Dumbledore tonight, to talk about Horcruxes. That would help cover where he was going if someone noticed he was missing on Friday night, too. He hoped.
            “Oh.” Ron widened his eyes and nodded. “Rough luck, mate. We were going to have Quidditch practice.”
            Harry punched him in the arm. “And you’re heartbroken, because one practice where people don’t pause to watch me catch the Snitch just pains you.”
            “No, what I’m heartbroken about is you not missing more often, because then I have to give the Captain’s badge back. And it likes being with me, doesn’t it?” Ron patted his pocket.
            Harry grinned. Ron took over as Gryffindor Quidditch Captain on the nights when Harry, as was more and more common lately, had a meeting with Dumbledore or some homework to make up for. “I don’t know how you can know the opinions of an inanimate piece of metal without even an enchanted mouth on it, but not realize Hermione’s more often,” he said, lowering his voice a little.
            Ron cast a glance of mild panic at Hermione, then turned back to Harry. “What did she say I did?”
            Harry grinned more widely. Now Ron was completely distracted from any questions he might have about a slightly mysterious piece of parchment. “I wasn’t speaking in specifics,” he said, and stole the ham sandwich Ron had spent the last five minutes putting together. Over Ron’s loud “Oi!”, he bit into it and added with a full mouth, “Just in general.”
            “Will you please not talk with your mouth full?”
            Hermione gave the lecture without bothering to look up from her book. Harry shrugged apologetically at Ron and resisted the temptation to glance over at Malfoy as he stood. The cold wind was still blowing against Harry’s Occlumency walls, telling Harry all he needed to know about his bondmate’s emotions. “Sorry.”
            “You should be,” Ron muttered, reaching for the next components of another heroic sandwich.
            “I wasn’t actually talking to you,” said Harry sweetly, and dodged the swat Ron aimed his way before he made his way out of the Great Hall, laughing.
            His mood changed quickly enough when he saw Snape waiting for him in the corridor. Harry turned aside to face him and nodded swiftly. “Sir?”
            “Since you seem to have made some progress with Occlumency, I require the book I lent you back.”
            “Here, sir,” said Harry, and dug in his bag. A second later, Snape had the book in hand. He glanced at it as if to make sure that Harry hadn’t ripped out pages or scribbled his name on the binding or something, and then he took a slow step towards Harry.
            “Mr. Malfoy tells me that he taught you Occlumency during one of your shared dreams. That you did not actually get instruction from the book.”
            Mr. Malfoy has a big mouth, Harry thought, a little exasperated. Why would Malfoy be discussing the inner workings of the bond with Snape, of all people? Harry hadn’t told Dumbledore about the dreams in any detail. He hadn’t even considered doing it.
            Of course, he might have to make a different decision if Dumbledore had actually asked. Maybe Snape had demanded some kind of progress report from Malfoy. Or maybe Malfoy had wanted to brag about the way he had managed to teach the unteachable.
            “He was the one who taught me what it meant to clear your mind,” said Harry, deciding that he would get his own back at Snape by being as polite as possible. He was sure he saw Snape’s lips thin a little, and resisted the temptation to dance a little. Take that, Mr. “Occlumency Is So Simple.” “But the book helped teach me about the history of Occlumency, sir. Thank you for the loan.’
            Snape only stood there and stared at him. Harry stared back, although he had learned to look more at Snape’s eyebrows and the ridge of his nose. He wondered what else Snape wanted their conversation to include.
            “Was there anything else, Professor?” he finally asked. “Only I was going to go the library and study a little during my free period.”
            “Free time that you spend in the library obviously means you are up to something,” Snape replied, but absently, as if had only given the answer because long habit required it. He leaned forwards with his arms crossed. “Mr. Malfoy agreed to the bond because of his intense anguish over the death of his mother.”
            “I know that, sir.” Before Snape could add something asking how, Harry added, “I felt a lot of his emotions before I closed up the barriers. I know how much he misses her.”
            That got him some more indecisive staring. Then Snape seemed to remember Harry wasn’t a Slytherin. “He may make poor decisions because of such intense—rage.”
            “I know he might,” Harry said. He wondered if Malfoy had hinted at anything of their plans to Snape. That would be beyond stupid, but just because Harry had relaxed a lot around Malfoy didn’t mean he had forgotten the past five years. Malfoy did come up with stupid plans on a regular basis.
            “As long as you remember that.” Snape stood tall and stood back. “Because this bond is meant to make him survive.”
            And me, Harry thought, but he had long since stopped expecting Snape to care much about his life except if he was in immediate danger. “I know, sir. Thanks for reminding me,” he added, turning away and walking towards the library. He did have a free period that he wanted to use for study, or Hermione would bother him later about missing the time he would spend with Dumbledore this evening.
            Snape’s eyes remained on his back. Harry knew that from long experience of it in the classroom. Not until he went up one staircase and turned a corner did he feel free of them.
            Harry sighed and shook his head. He did hope Malfoy hadn’t told Snape. On the other hand, Snape could stop it a lot more easily than just standing over Harry and dropping cryptic hints. All he’d have to do was go to Dumbledore.
            So that left open the possibility that Snape might have come up to Harry and hinted at him for another reason. But no matter how long he thought about it, Harry couldn’t imagine what reason that was.
            In the end, he opened his books and got to work. As Hermione would say, his school life didn’t stop because he had a mystical soul-bond.
*
            “I hope you know what you are doing, Mr. Malfoy.”
            Draco started and looked up. Professor Snape was the only person who could still sneak up on him. Draco had become much more paranoid since Vincent’s betrayal, and had started placing silent spells around every area he used on a regular basis to warn him when someone approached.
            Of course, he was in the professor’s lab, and he ought to have anticipated that the professor would have counters for them, might even have counters built into the walls and equipment that would disrupt the spells as they were being cast. “I do, sir,” he said, and turned back to his cauldron. “This will eat through stone easily.”
            “I was not referring to that, but to your plan to snatch your father back from the jaws of the Dark Lord.”
            Draco turned around slowly. He had thought, the other day, that he’d felt the stab of a Legilimency probe past his barriers, but when Professor Snape had said nothing about it, he’d dismissed the feeling.
            “Why wait to confront me?” Draco asked. Denial was useless. “Did you already go to the Headmaster and tell him what Potter and I are doing?”
            “As I thought. You convinced the foolish boy to help you.” Professor Snape sighed, the loudest and most revealing noise Draco had ever heard him make. “Has it occurred to you that if the Potter boy dies during this mission, then your best hope of living in a world free from the Dark Lord perishes, also?”
            “I don’t know that,” Draco countered. He had never really known why Potter was such a savior, though from hints Professor Snape had dropped, Draco suspected he knew. “And I don’t care. My father is more important than anything else.”
            “Will your father want to live in a world where the Dark Lord has triumphed?”
            “He would want to live.” Draco wondered why no one except him seemed to understand that. Well, Potter came close, sometimes, but that was only the artificial understanding of the bond, nothing Draco could use or depend on. “My father’s not some noble hero who’s willing to die to spare others suffering. My mother and me are the only people he might do that for. And right now, he can’t spare either of us that way.”
            Professor Snape closed his eyes. He seemed so weary that Draco wondered absently if he had actually stayed awake worrying over this.
            If he did, he’s horrible at trying to express that worry.
            “I wonder why,” Professor Snape said, as if talking to himself, “I have not yet reported you to the Headmaster.”
            Draco knew the answer to that one. “Because you don’t like him any more than I do,” he said, and Professor Snape’s head turned in swift surprise. “Because even I could tell he was forcing you to participate in that bond ceremony. He has some sort of hold over you, I know that. But that doesn’t mean you’re his willing spy in everything.”
            Professor Snape’s lips turned up in a parody of a smile. “By definition, someone with a hold over someone else cannot make that person willing.”
            “It depends a lot on what the alternative is.” Draco shook his head when he saw the expression on the professor’s face this time. “Look, I don’t have any ties to the Dark Lord now. I’m not going to report you as Dumbledore’s spy. I don’t care. Will you leave me to do what I need to do to rescue my father?”
            Professor Snape was still for a long time, looking meditatively into Draco’s cauldron. Draco watched his face even as he added a few more flecks of mica. He knew he wouldn’t see whatever Professor Snape was seeing in the potion anyway.
            “You have added too much rock salt,” Professor Snape finally said, and turned away, to the door of the Potions lab.
            Draco watched after him for a moment. But he truly didn’t believe that Professor Snape was going to do anything else to hinder him, and he had a potion to finish. He added some more mica to counteract the rock salt, and then reached for the waiting scraps of lemon peel.
*
            Severus leaned his arms on the windowsill in front of him. It was an enchanted window, one he thought he was the only person still remaining in the school to know about. It looked out on the bottom of the lake, and showed churning mud, thick green water, and the occasional set of gliding merfolk who looked at him as if he was the exhibit for their amusement.
            Once, it had showed other visions. This was one of the rare windows that a wizard could control to show him hidden perspectives, not just the bottom of the lake but bedrooms, bathrooms, secrets, lives. Severus’s Slytherin yearmates had thought it was great fun to spy on some of the prefects taking a bath.
            Severus was beyond that now, but perhaps because part of him still associated the window with childhood, he had come here to think.
            The same question echoed in his head that he’d asked Draco. Why not report these stupid adolescents to Dumbledore and have done with it? Perhaps the Headmaster would not be able to change Draco’s mind, but he could corral Potter easily enough.
            Can he, though? Or would Potter never have gone along with Draco in the first place if he still obeyed Dumbledore in all things?
            Severus drew a finger slowly along his bottom lip. One reason he had thought it strange for Dumbledore to choose the soul-bond that he had was the potential effect it would have on both people involved. Yes, it was likely Draco would come to care for Potter and align himself more closely with the Order of the Phoenix’s goals. Simply having someone to sympathize with him might draw Draco away from his obsessive focus on revenge.
            But why would Potter not draw closer to Draco, as well? Come to think of him as an ally, someone who should be listened to?
            Severus sighed gustily. Sometimes he thought Dumbledore had indeed foreseen this, and was trying to give Potter someone to rely on after he was gone. Other times he thought Dumbledore saw only the immediate chessboard, and not several moves ahead into the game.
            But regardless, Severus had chosen his side, even if it was only not being involved in this particular mess. Draco’s mind was easy to read these days, with the constant focus and revolving around rescuing his father. Dumbledore could see it as well if he chose to look. Or if he chose to glance into Potter’s eyes.
            Severus would leave the discovery up to him.
*
            “You wanted to see me, sir?”
            Harry looked curiously around Dumbledore’s office as he stepped into it. His first impression was that something had changed, but he couldn’t tell what it was. The silver instruments still clanked and hummed to themselves all around him. Fawkes was preening on his perch, now and then turning his head to slide his beak under some feather Harry supposed must be particularly stubborn.
            “Yes, Harry. Have a seat.”
            Harry sat down across from Dumbledore, who turned and regarded him gravely. Harry gasped a little when he saw at least one change. Most of Dumbledore’s arm to his elbow was now black.
            “Yes, it has spread,” said Dumbledore, glancing back and forth between Harry and his arm. His smile was pained. “That is one reason I wanted to talk to you tonight, Harry. We must find some clues to the hiding places of other Horcruxes as soon as possible.”
            Harry swallowed and brought up one point Dumbledore had mentioned last week. “You said you think Nagini is probably a Horcrux.”
            “Yes. A living Horcrux, like you, but without a soul-bond that should draw her Horcrux away from Voldemort’s.” Dumbledore’s eyes were very blue and very close. “I hope that you will not let sympathy for her stay your hand.”
            “No, sir.” Harry shuddered. He would never forget being in Nagini’s head last year and seeing her attack Mr. Weasley. He would feel safest when she was dead.
            “I have decided that Tom is unlikely to have hidden any of his Horcruxes in the orphanage where he once lived. To be honest, I do not know if the building is still there.” Dumbledore reached down absently to touch the ring he still wore on his blackened hand. “But he would so far, I think, hide the Horcruxes in places he felt more secure, and more connected to his triumphs, if he could. The Muggle world of London would be too unpredictable for him.”
            Harry swallowed. “Then you think there’s probably one in Hogwarts?”
            “Yes, I do. And I think we must find and destroy that one as soon as possible. I do not know whether it might not be poisoning someone else as we speak.”
            Dumbledore paused. Harry waited, and then waited some more, nervously, when he saw the way Dumbledore was peering at him over his spectacles. Harry shook his head. “I don’t have any idea where the one in Hogwarts could be, Headmaster.”
            “I know that. But we must consider the hiding place—or perhaps I should say, the previous hiding place—of the one you destroyed.”
            “The Chamber of Secrets?” Harry winced a little at the thought of going down there again. He would have to bring his broom this time.
            “No.” Dumbledore’s voice was very gentle. “Its hiding place before that.”
            Harry knew what Dumbledore meant, but he wasn’t going to say it aloud. “You think there are other Death Eaters that Voldemort might have trusted? I vote for Bellatrix Lestrange. She was always bragging about how close she was to him.”
            “Harry.”
            “Look,” Harry said, unaccountably angry, “if there’s some Horcrux hidden somewhere in Malfoy Manor, then Draco’s never mentioned it.”
            “I would not expect him to. In fact, I would not expect him to know it was a Horcrux. Voldemort is unlikely to have entrusted the purpose of his objects to his followers, although he may well have entrusted the objects themselves. I am fairly certain that Lucius Malfoy only thought the diary was a means to open the Chamber of Secrets, not a piece of his Lord.”
            Harry nodded in response, but he still had something to say. “If you think that Draco needs to hand over this Horcrux to bargain for his safety—he already promised and it should be honored—”
            “No, no. What I want you to do is ask Draco if he remembers any powerful Dark artifacts in his parents’ house. The kinds of things they would have hidden, for example, in cellars under the drawing room, to protect them from the Aurors’ raids.”
            The kind of things that Lucius Malfoy was trying to sell in Borgin and Burkes, Harry remembered with savage clarity. Of course, that might only have been the diary at the time, but Harry highly doubted that was the only inhabitant of the hidden room.
            “You understand what I am asking you to do, Harry? Not to betray your bond. Not to harass young Mr. Malfoy when he is grieving with questions he cannot answer. Only to do what we both must to save the world.”
            There it is again. Always my bloody duty.
            But when it came down to it, Harry thought, he would always have to do his bloody duty. Because what kind of world would be left if he didn’t? And what kind of people would face down Voldemort otherwise? People too scared to do anything when a baby defeated him? Half-trained students from the DA? Ministry workers who still thought Voldemort wasn’t back half the time?
            It’s the cause Sirius died for. The cause my parents died for. The reason Cedric died. I can’t let them down.
            “All right, sir,” Harry said heavily, trying to ignore the way the twinkling in Dumbledore’s eyes seemed to speed up. “I’ll ask him.”
            “Splendid! And questions are all I ask, Harry. Not, as I said, demands that he would more than likely not be able to fulfill.”
            Harry just nodded. His throat already hurt as though he was betraying someone. He just didn’t know who.
*
Kain: Draco doesn’t want Ron and Hermione along because he assumes they would do things like denounce Dark artifacts in Malfoy Manor/attack Death Eaters who might have random prisoners with them/do other things out of hatred of Dark Arts and the like that would compromise the main mission. And Harry still feels like Draco is owed something for Dumbledore breaking his promise, so he’d promise anything right then.
Draco intends to build a safehouse for Lucius himself. That’s why he was studying warding.
moon: Thank you!
SP777: Yes, I think Draco is starting to understand what a soul-bond with Harry Potter of all people is going to mean.
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The Serenity of His Rage