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I Give You a Wondrous Mirror	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 17808 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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.

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Chapter Seven�The Weapon of Honesty

�� No,� Harry
said, running his fingers in distraction over the pile of papers that covered
the table in the library. �Al thought he was sick, but James had just
crammed a bunch of food in his mouth and then pretended to vomit. You know it�s
a trick he likes to play.�

�� Hm.� Ginny
folded her arms and regarded him with a jaundiced eye, as if he hadn�t been
sharing fully in the care of the children since they brought James home from St.
Mungo�s. �And you�re sure James never had a fever at any point during
the day? A cough? He didn�t complain about any headaches?�

�� I�m sure.�
Harry turned and smiled up at his wife, aware as he did so that he was just
waiting for her to leave the room so that he could subsume himself in the
Malfoy mystery once more. Her concerns irritated him. He held his tongue for a
moment, though, reminding himself that Ginny had been at practice all day, and
thus not there to see the devilish grin on James�s face after he�d convinced
his little brother that he was sick and about to die. �I know Rosie�s sick, but
Ron doused himself with anti-infection spells before he visited me yesterday.
Hermione would never have forgiven him if he didn�t.� Harry shuddered slightly.
An angry Hermione was never good news for anyone.

�� Well. If
you�re sure.� Ginny�s fingers tapped her elbow, but a little more slowly than
they had done. �Is dinner ready?�

�� Harry
pulled his attention firmly away from the papers and stood. �Yes. Just simmering
under a Stasis Spell while the children nap.� He had made a dinner of odds and
ends, the sort of thing Ginny liked to have when coming home after a practice:
potatoes, strips of meat mixed in with vegetables, soft bread with butter, and
a thin soup of the kind that Aunt Petunia had once prided herself on cooking
for hours. It was easier with magic, of course.

�� Good.�
Ginny took his arm and led him out of the library, though she hesitated near
the doorway, peering into his face. Harry looked inquiringly back. He was
hungry, too, and he could hear Al starting to fuss down the corridor, as he
often did when he woke from a nap in the middle of the day and found himself
alone.

�� I just
don�t want you to spend too much time on these documents of the Malfoys�,�
Ginny said, tightening her hold on him. �It makes me feel distant from you, in
a way that I don�t when I know you�re thinking about Ron and Hermione, or your
job.�

�� Surprised,
Harry turned and hugged her. �Gin,� he said into her ear, �you know that if I�m
not taking care of you enough��

�� It�s not
that.� Ginny�s eyes flickered briefly up to his scar, and then away. She had
gone to a great effort since the war not to look directly at it. Harry had
thought she did it because she knew how uncomfortable the stares in Diagon
Alley and other public places made him, but it seemed she might have her own
reasons for it, after all. �At least, not wholly. I�I don�t want to find out
what will happen if you walk far enough away from us.�

�� Harry
opened his mouth to ask what she meant, and then shut it and settled for
kissing her forehead.

�� He should
have seen it before. He and Ginny never talked about the lack of mirrors in the
house, or his dreams, or the burning of his scars, or anything else that could
refer to the strange magic that ruled so much of his life. He knew it made
Ginny uneasy, and he hadn�t wanted to cause her pain by discussing in detail
what he did with Malfoy in his dreams.

�� Now, for
the first time, he realized that she actively feared what could happen
if he paid too much attention to the curse, and, by implication, too much to
the Malfoys. She could lose him, and not through any fault of her own, but
because there was this strong unexplained influence pulling him in the other
direction.

�� Harry
tightened his lips and gave a fierce little shake of his head. He would not do
that to his wife. He would shut the Malfoy mystery out of his head except
during the mornings, as he had promised. He would even more earnestly avoid
mirrors and awakening Ginny in the night. And he would�

�� You�ll
approach this like an adult, won�t you?

�� Yes. He
would have to.

�� He would
cease running and acting like a coward, the way that Malfoy had accused him of
doing. He would discuss the matter with him frankly and openly, and refuse to
allow the other man�s insults get under his skin. He would bring his unanswered
questions and lay them before Malfoy, instead of sneaking about. Why hunt for
information he couldn�t find when he could get it directly from the hippogriff�s
mouth?

�� Of course,
he couldn�t trust everything that Malfoy said. But he could propose
another solution, and since Malfoy was so in favor of being honest, he ought to
agree to it.

�� Harry�s
mouth twitched. He would have to see George in the morning, before he went to
the Manor.

�� He kissed
Ginny once more, and this time there was passion and strength behind the
gesture. She looked up at him, and he saw she was both startled and pleased.
That saddened him. Has it really been days since I made her believe that
she�s the center of my life?

�� You�re
right,� he said quietly. �I was a Gryffindor, right? Courage and honesty ought
to be more my style than this creeping uncertainty. I�ll bull right ahead, and
take the help that Malfoy offered me, and solve this mystery as soon as
possible. Then I�ll have even more time to spend with my family, who deserve
the lion�s share of my attention.�

�� He didn�t
think Ginny had kissed him so deeply since their few weeks of sunshine together
at the end of sixth year. He kept one arm around her as they went to wake the
children, more content than he had once imagined he could be.

*

�� Draco
smiled slightly. The wards on the Manor had buzzed to let him know that someone
was at the gates, of course, and again when Potter reached the door of the
Manor, conveying an image to the side of his right eye. He had let those
particular spells lapse for far too long, but he�d established them again
yesterday. If he was to take a more active role in trying to disentangle the
mystery that had engulfed him, he should also take a more active role in other
parts of his life, including the defense of his family.

�� He saw no
need to leave the room and engage Potter in a duel of words that the coward
would only attempt to slip out of, though. He was sitting with Scorpius right
now, who had fallen asleep listening to another story. His body slumped back
against Draco�s arms, his head half-dangling, the strands of blond hair around
his face fluttering with soft snores. Draco was disinclined to move. Let Potter
speak to his mother. He would ambush the man on the way out.

�� That was
part of the reason he was so startled when someone knocked softly, with an open
palm, against the door of the nursery and he looked up to see Potter standing
there, eyebrows raised.

�� Malfoy.�
He spoke at just the right volume to let his voice carry and yet avoid waking
Scorpius, and Draco was surprised until he remembered that Potter had children
himself. �May I come in and speak to you? It�s important.�

�� Draco
hesitated a moment longer, then gave a curt nod .Loathe as he was to surrender
his private time with his son, refusing now might defeat Potter�s courage, and
he�d never take the chance again.

�� Potter
walked carefully across the nursery, obviously looking for scattered toys that
weren�t there. His eyes flitted between the huge shelves full of books, the
large and open trunks full of magical toys, and the cot guarded with shimmering
wards. Probably taking note of the luxury and comparing it to whatever poor
arrangements he�d made for his sons and daughter, Draco thought, concealing a
sneer. He wondered if Potter would make some snide comment about spoiling
children to him.

�� But
Potter�s eyes came back to Scorpius in just a few moments, and softened. In
fact, he looked more at the boy than anything else in the room, and Draco felt
a weird pride rise in his chest. Scorpius had been so protected, especially in
the past month, that Potter was the first stranger who�d been anywhere near him
(not counting the Healers who had attended on him at his birth and various
childish illnesses since). And Potter was obviously smitten with him.

�� That�s
your son?� he mouthed, when he stood next to Draco�s rocking chair.

�� It is,�
Draco whispered back. �Transfigure something into a chair for yourself, won�t
you? He�s rather pinning my wand at the moment.�

�� Potter gave
him an easy smile of complete understanding, and then selected a piece of dust
from the carpet and Transfigured it into a small stool, deliberately lower than
Draco�s chair. Draco raised one eyebrow, reluctantly impressed. Potter still
wore relatively shabby robes, given what Galleons he could have commanded at
any clothing shop in Diagon Alley, and his hair still looked as if it had never
heard of a comb, but he was no slob at magic.

�� I�ve
decided that you�re right, Malfoy.�

�� Draco just
stared. If the sight of Harry Potter in his son�s nursery was unexpected, then
hearing those words was�unbelievable. He fought the temptation to look away,
which might tell him if he�d accidentally stared into a mirror too long and
come to think that the vision it portrayed was real.

�� Excuse
me?� he said at last.

�� Oh, come
off it and don�t look like that,� Potter muttered, but reached into a pocket of
his robe and withdraw a vial that sparkled with clear liquid. Draco wondered
what Potter wanted with a vial full of water, but understood in seconds as
Potter said, �This is Veritaserum. I borrowed it from George Weasley, since he
uses it in some of the pranks he makes. I can promise you that it�s quite
genuine; I tested it this morning. I�d like you to agree to take some while I
question you about the night Goldstein was murdered, and your potential
involvement in it.�

�� You what?�
Draco said, again a few moments after he should actually have answered. He
hoped the sheer spittle from his spluttering didn�t splash on Scorpius�s
forehead and wake him.

�� I�m tired
of not getting answers.� Potter�s glasses sparked as he leaned forwards, but it
didn�t look as thought his brilliant eyes needed the help. �I can�t find the
information I need to know about this murder, and then your wife came to me
yesterday and offered to betray your deepest darkest secrets, which turned out
to consist solely of the fact that you were absent from home for an hour on the
night Goldstein died. And I�ve thought more and more about what you said
concerning�well, mirrors, and the fading that happened to us.� He cleared his
throat, and his face flushed slightly, but his voice was determined. �That�s
what you�re right about. We need to address it, and to end it if we can. I�m
tired of feeling I can�t call my life my own.�

�� Draco
blinked again and again. He would have reached out and slid his fingers down
the skin of Potter�s wrist, just to make sure of his reality, but the reality
of Scorpius kept his hands rather pinned.

�� When you
decide to charge,� he said at last, �you spare no effort.�

�� Potter gave
him a small smile. �Will you agree to the Veritaserum, Malfoy? And then we�ll
work together on both mysteries. I pledge you my full cooperation in return for
your agreement to drink this.� He gently sloshed the vial of Veritaserum back
and forth.

�� And if I
say that I want more than that?� Draco cocked his head and let a sly undertone
drop into his voice. Potter wouldn�t trust him if he agreed right away, after
all. �That I need your help in something else?�

�� It would
depend on what this other thing was, of course,� Potter said, sitting back.
�And how long it took.�

�� Draco
studied him for a moment in silence. Then he decided that he might as well be
honest in return. It would cost him too much with most other people in his
life, even his mother�whom he had tried to talk to honestly about the mirrors
for years, earning only her disbelief and sadness in return�but Potter was,
Draco suspected, literally incapable of using the information against him.

�� I want my
life back,� he said.

�� Potter
blinked. Then he said cautiously, �Mrs. Malfoy did tell me that you�d spent
rather a long time in the house these past few years. And I know that you don�t
have an occupation now, and that you didn�t have good standing after the war.
But after we stop the curse that�s working on us through the mirrors and my
dreams��

�� Your
dreams, Potter? How interesting.

�� I don�t
see what else you would require from me. You could go forth and get a job if
you wanted to, or you could remain home with one less thing to worry
about.� Potter glanced at Scorpius, and once more his face softened. �It
wouldn�t be so horrible to stay with your son, would it?�

�� Have you
wondered why Marian was so eager to betray me yesterday?� Draco spoke the words
without thought. For the first time in ten years, Slytherin instinct had surged
up inside him�the same instinct that had made him remain at Hogwarts and try to
capture Potter in the Room of Hidden Things. That had worked out disastrously,
but Draco tended to think his intuition was sound. It was only his execution
that sometimes lacked finesse.

�� I didn�t
think to ask,� Potter said, and readjusted his position on the chair as if it
were beginning to hurt his tailbone. �I tend to try and stay out of other
people�s martial disputes. That�s good advice learned from hard experience,
believe me.�

�� She was
happy with me until Scorpius was about five months old.� Draco knew he
was taking a risk; Potter might not accept the idea of using magic on a baby
any more than Marian did. But he was going to be working too closely with the
man to keep many secrets, especially one this important, and once again, given
how much Potter favored honesty, it would look better if Draco told him than if
Marian managed it later. �Then it became clear Scorpius was going to look like
her, or like a mixture of us, instead of like a Malfoy. The Malfoys have been
blond and had blue or gray eyes for hundreds of years. But Scorpius was born
with dark hair, and his eyes might have been hazel or green as easily, which
wasn�t acceptable.� He glanced up at Potter. �No offense to people with green
eyes intended.�

�� Potter
nodded tersely. He was literally leaning forwards on the edge of his chair.
Draco felt a soft bloom of warmth in his chest, that he could command this
man�s attention so effortlessly.

�� My mother
convinced me to work magic on Scorpius, to change his appearance.� He ran his
hand through his son�s fine, and utterly pale, hair again. There wasn�t a trace
of black or brown showing. He had done a fine job, if he did say so
himself. �I would never have used the spell if there was the slightest danger
to my son, Potter. I love him.� And that was not so very hard to say. �But
Marian was convinced the magic might hurt a baby. She tried to take him from me
and run. Only the house-elves stopped her in time.�

�� And now?�
Potter�s voice was edged with wariness.

�� He�s been
kept behind wards since then, so his mother can�t touch him, though I can,�
said Draco simply. �And Marian hates me.�

*

�� Harry
gusted out a breath and blinked hard. He could see both sides of the argument.
He knew what he would have done had Ginny taken one of the children and
tried to abscond with them. On the other hand, he also knew what he would have
done if Ginny was working magic he believed was harmful on a baby.

�� But, of
course, magic had been used constantly around James and the others from the
moment they were born, and even on James when he was younger than
Scorpius, to heal him from a dangerous sickness that had managed to crawl into
his lungs. So Harry couldn�t take the position that Marian apparently had, that
any kind of magic could hurt a baby. One merely had to be careful with it.

�� And is
an appearance-changing spell taking care?

�� You said
you want your life back,� he said, trying to wrench his brain away from
contemplating the ethical difficulties of the Malfoy marriage. �Does that mean
that you want help in separating from your wife? I�m not a solicitor, Malfoy,
and not a barrister either.�

�� Malfoy
waved an irritated foot at him, since he couldn�t move his hands. �Not that. I
can separate from my wife well enough on my own, if it comes to that. But I
need the energy. I�ve been apathetic too long.�

�� And I give
you energy?� It was true that Malfoy looked sharp and keen-eyed, not at all the
listless wizard Narcissa described, but he had looked like that the first day
Harry came to Malfoy Manor, too.

�� You do.� Malfoy
smiled at him, and Harry caught his breath. This must be the smile he used when
he wasn�t plotting revenge or trying to bully someone else. It lifted his
cheeks high and made his eyes less tired and turned his face incredibly
handsome, receding hairline and all.

�� It looks
exactly like the smile in my dreams.

�� Harry put
that idea away. He would not listen to the part of his brain that still
urged him to trust Malfoy. It was out of the question.

�� You
challenge me,� Malfoy said, and his voice was not husky, that was
Harry�s imagination, and why did he have to have such a good imagination? �You
give me something to stand up and fight towards. Remain my friend when this is
done. Write me letters. Meet me for drinks. Yell at me when I do something that
violates your stupid Gryffindor sensibilities. I honestly think that�s what I
need.� He met and held Harry�s gaze. �Will you do that?�

�� Harry
swallowed. This was exactly the level of entanglement that he had wanted to
avoid with Malfoy. Finish extricating him from guilt for the murder�which no
one deserved�and work together to end the curse that hovered over their lives.
That was well enough. But remaining in close contact with him, turning into a friend,
giving him time and attention when all of that should go to his family�

�� And then
Harry pictured the life that Narcissa had told him Draco led. Locked in his
house for fear of enemies and, well, fear; living with a wife who could hardly
stand him; having no energy even to go along with his mother�s plans for him,
which would have been the simplest thing to do; carrying no honor or
distinction worth mentioning from the war, so that his past seemed as much a
failure to him as his present.

�� No one
deserved that, either.

�� And so it
was a sense of the rightness of things, much more than a sense of obligation,
that Harry met Malfoy�s eyes and nodded slightly. �You have yourself a bargain,
Malfoy.� He held out the vial. �Now. Will you take the Veritaserum? I doubt
that my wife expected me to be gone this long.�

*

�� Draco
wanted to close his eyes and purr, though he found the mention of Potter�s wife
rather jarring. He would have what he needed, but more than that, he would have
what he wanted. He could be friends with someone who did him good, and
continuing friendship was what he wanted.

�� If not
something else.

�� But there
were too many obstacles in the way for that, their marriages not the
smallest among them, so Draco wouldn�t think about them right now. He simply
smiled at Potter and said, �I still can�t move my arms from beneath Scorpius.
I�ll need you to put the Veritaserum on my tongue, Potter.�

�� Potter
looked at him narrowly, but his gaze flickered down to Scorpius, and he nodded.
As he stood, uncapping the vial, Draco added, �And you can�t ask me where I was
for an hour on the night of Goldstein�s murder.�

�� Potter
huffed at him. �And why not?�

�� He could
give his children lessons in whinging, Draco thought, amused. �Because it�s
a family secret,� he said. �Given the other questions you can ask me, I should
think you�d be able to find out the truth about my involvement in Goldstein�s
murder easily enough, unless you�re as incompetent an investigator as you were
a Seeker.�

�� Potter
opened his mouth to snap indignantly back, then seemed to notice his smile and
peered hard at him again. �Malfoy?� he asked at last. �Did you just make a joke?�

�� Of
course.� Draco leaned his head against the back of the chair and widened his
smile. �It�s the kind of things friends do, I�m told. And I quite tire of
hearing you spit my surname out as if it were a rotten fruit. Call me Draco.
Harry.�

�� Potter
nodded hesitantly, then took three drops of Veritaserum on his finger and held
it out to Draco�s mouth. Draco swallowed obediently, but made sure to flick his
tongue against Potter�s fingers before they could retreat. That provoked a tiny
flush of his cheeks and a widening and dilation of his eyes that Potter
probably wasn�t even aware of.

�� His
dreams are about the same things we see in the mirrors, I would be willing to
wager, Draco thought, in the moments before a gentle blankness took over
his mind.

*

�� Git,
Harry thought, and wiped his finger free of saliva on his robes. Then he took a
deep breath, to dismiss the feeling of wetness and smoothness against his
fingertips from his mind, and asked, �Did you murder Esther Goldstein?�

�� No,� Draco
said, staring at the far wall with glassy eyes. His hands had gone slack, and
slipped a bit from around his son, who fussed. Without thinking about it, Harry
reached out and folded them into place again, the way he would have held Al.
Scorpius�poor kid�uttered a dreamy sigh and dropped back to sleep.

�� Do you
know who did?�

�� No.�

�� What was
the origin of the piece of cloth with the Malfoy crest found at the scene of
her murder?�

�� It must
have come from the Manor,� said Draco. �I can�t imagine that anyone else would
want to carry it.�

�� How did it
get there?�

�� I don�t
know.�

�� Would your
wife have any reason to suspect you of the murder?�

�� She would
try to blame me for it.� One�s voice was supposed to be a monotone under
Veritaserum, but a twist to one or two of the words conveyed Draco�s disgust.
�She wants sole custody of Scorpius, which she�ll never get otherwise. But that
is the only reason.�

�� Harry asked
a few more questions about the information that Narcissa had given him, but it
soon became apparent that Draco knew even less than his mother. He was
innocent, and he had every reason to want to clear his name.

�� Harry
sighed, and paused. He could think of nothing else that might work to elicit
information. He thought of asking about what Draco saw in the mirrors, but that
was akin to taking advantage of a drunken man. He would wait until they could
pool their resources and solve the problem of the curse together.

�� Thank you,
Malfoy,� he said.

�� Draco,�
the man said, and gave him that breath-catching smile again. �And you�re
welcome, Harry. You�re welcome in the Manor at any time, in fact. I meant what
I said about your becoming my friend.�

��

Harry inclined his head with a
nervousness he couldn�t hide, and then turned and moved rapidly across the
nursery towards the door. He rubbed the mark of the locket above his heart,
which had begun to burn again.

His brain kept urging him to trust
Draco. But his brain was foolish. He felt as if he knew this man, but he
didn�t. He knew a deception, a dream-self, who shared a life with Harry that
didn�t exist anywhere and never would exist. He would do well to remember that
Draco was still a Slytherin, for all the friendliness he exuded�someone
ruthless enough to keep his wife away from her child permanently when he
decided he could no longer trust her.

They might become friends of a
sort. Harry would face the images in the mirrors in the course of figuring out
how to stop them.

And once he could stop them from
coming, he need never think of them again. There was room in his life for many
friends, but only one lover.

*

Mangacat: The scar connection is
something that will be emphasized more in the upcoming chapters.

Daft Fear: I�m glad that you�re
like the characterization!

Thrnbrooke: Thanks for reviewing!
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I Give You a Wondrous Mirror

Chapter Seven�The Weapon of Honesty