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For Their Unconquerable Souls	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 29229 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Seven�Settled
and Dreaming

�� To watch
Harry with his patients was at once a wonder and a source of concern to Draco.

�� He spoke
softer words than Draco had known were in existence, and not at all like the
kind of rough flirting he used with Lucius. Draco supposed that was because these patients had no former Death
Eaters among them, but still, he would have anticipated more of a continuity of
manner. That Harry could lower his voice, that he could lean in sympathetically
and nod when a man with regrowing bones complained for the third time in five
minutes about Skele-Gro not taking, that he could lift the fringe from the
forehead of a boy who was sweating yellow, oily liquid from the poisonous
combination of potions he�d swallowed, made Draco stir against the wall with
restless desire. So Harry did have
that gentleness Draco would crave towards himself from a lover. He could show
it when he wanted. Draco�s problem was how to make Harry want to show it to
him.

�� But he
didn�t ask Draco for help, not once. He fetched the vials of potions himself.
He spoke all the comforting words and never glanced over his shoulder as if he
were at a loss and required a suggestion. He waded right into the fray when a
thrashing patient nearly flung himself off the bed and restrained his limbs
with a twitch of his wand. Then he murmured words as calm as the flow of a
stream at dusk until the patient relaxed and listened to him, and he was able
to remove the restraints.

�� Unused to depending
on anyone else, content to pour the strength and the grace of his personality
down an empty well until he was entirely drained�Draco had seen a disease like
this before, in another student who was working towards her Potions mastery.
She had primarily wanted to know how to handle Potions ingredients for the sake
of her mother, who had one of the rare wizarding diseases that regularly needed
new treatments. She hadn�t considered once whether she liked Potions, or what would happen when her mother died and she no
longer had that force driving her. Draco could admire her selflessness as he
could admire the skill behind a painting in a style he didn�t like. He couldn�t
think well of it. There was the rest
of one�s life to think about, and no matter what anyone might say, it wasn�t
selfish to manage one�s own happiness.

�� Draco, as
he watched Harry speak to a small girl named Mary who had lost her voice to
poison and could only nod or shake her head in response to his questions, could
see something like that happening to Harry, so easily. He would collapse one morning and stay in a coma the rest
of his life, or he would become so numb emotionally that he would withdraw from
the world, unable to Heal any more. He kept nothing for himself, no reserve of
emotional strength that he didn�t pour into other people, and if he let anyone
support him, Draco had yet to see it.

�� It was
wrong. He was a Malfoy now. He should have the very best of all material
comforts, beauty to surround and soothe his wounds of heart and soul, conversation
to guide his mind to new intellectual heights, and the necessity of only
working when he wanted to. Draco was willing to concede that Harry�s sense of
honor might make his work more frequent than Draco would like, but he still
should choose it, not sink into a
constant haze of busyness because it was the right thing to do.

�� More
irritating on a personal level, Harry had forgotten his presence. His entire
being seemed to concentrate in Mary, and his face shone for her. Draco shifted
his weight. He would not sink to making a vocal protest�not where they had an
audience�but he still disliked the idea that he mattered less to Harry than
this girl did.

�� Then he
realized Harry was muttering and cooing to the girl about visiting her again
that evening, even though he�d already spent almost half an hour with her, and
despite the attack on Lucius this morning, and despite all the other patients
he had visited. And, of course, he had to complete the all-important duty of
settling Draco in his house and letting Draco seduce him.

��

�� At seven,
all right?� Harry said the last in a voice so caressing that Draco bit his lip.
Damn it, he wanted to hear that voice directed at him. If he was careful and patient, then maybe he would.

�� Can you
afford the time?� he asked.

�� Harry
glared at him. Draco didn�t know what the problem was. It was an honest
question.

�� Yes, I
most certainly can,� said Harry. �And so can you, if you�re so intent on
trailing after me.�

�� Draco
stifled his immediate impulse to snap back that he was guarding Harry and
trying to educate him, not trailing him. He was not a dog. �I�m accustomed to
relaxing before the fire by then, Potter,� he said. He made sure to look
carefully at Harry, and choose his next words with equal care. Harry would not
get away with thinking that Draco was concerned only for himself and his
father.� �And you look like you could do
with an hour when you�re not worrying about that nasty superior of yours or all
the noble self-sacrifices you like to make.�

�� If you think
you can change my routine to suit your self-indulgent notions,� Harry said, too
obviously clenching his teeth behind his smile, �you�re wrong.� He turned back
to Mary and nodded as if she were a queen commanding his attendance. �I�ll be
here at seven,� he repeated.

�� He turned
around and marched away. Draco followed him, gaze fixed firmly on his back. He
knew he would glare at the girl if he turned around again, and with his luck,
Harry would turn around, see it, and decide that Draco was despicable and a
dastard forever.

�� Self-indulgent? Does he have any idea of how
much time and kindness I�m prepared to give him, because of what he did for my
father?

�� Draco
released a careful, soundless breath through his nose. He didn�t know how he
was to explain that things had changed to Harry. He had thought his behavior
would be enough, but no, it obviously wasn�t. He bit at the corner of his lip
and half-lidded his eyes, concealing, he hoped, both his vexation and his
attempts to find a way to improve the situation. Harry would not like to be
looked at as if he were a problem in Arithmancy.

��

�� Do you
think Mr. Smythe honestly believes that your father raped his daughter?� Harry
asked. He walked with his eyes fixed straight ahead, his tone so casual that
Draco could not assimilate the words for long moments. �Or is that a cover
story for something more sinister?�

�� Draco
choked. He had to yank his thoughts back from a very different track to the one
Harry was trying to lay in front of him, and he could practically feel Harry�s
smug enjoyment radiating from him. He must have a trace of politeness, though,
or he would have turned around and gloated openly.

�� I reckon I should be grateful for that
delicacy. We�re certainly adopting someone boisterous and crude as part of the
family, but it�s not as bad as embracing a Weasley would have been.

�� Draco tried
to force away the thought that he might be literally
embracing a Weasley soon, if Potter�s friendship with them still held true,
and make himself come up with an appropriate answer. �The Death Eaters wore
masks, Potter.� He thought of the many accusations Lucius had been faced with
after the Wizengamot declared him free, accusations that the people making them
probably didn�t believe themselves; it was just a means to receive publicity
and exercise grief. His voice tightened in spite of himself. �Nor did my father
always wear his hair uncovered. Just because a masked Death Eater hurt a member
of someone�s family�and I�m not denying that many of them did hurt quite a few people�doesn�t mean it was my father who
committed the crime.�

�� Harry
turned around. Draco blinked, but held his gaze. He knew his face probably
looked too open for his father�s taste, but maybe it would do something for
Harry.

�� And,
indeed, Harry caught his breath and shifted towards him with a slight step that
he probably hadn�t meant to take. Draco softened his smile, but decided against
extending a hand. Harry seemed to resent his attempts at seduction. �I can
promise you, if you like the expression I�m wearing now, I�m more than willing
to present it to you as often as you wish.�

�� Harry
stiffened and gave his head a half-toss, as if he were a horse flicking off the
reins that someone had laid on his neck. Draco nearly growled under his breath.
He was trying! He was trying to show
Harry that he could be gentle, by speaking the words that Harry wanted to hear;
he was trying to show that he was patient, by standing quietly in the corner
whilst Harry spent hour after hour with boring people. What more could Harry
possibly want?

�� There is
something I�d like to see more of from you, Malfoy.�

�� Draco felt
heat gather at his groin and hope braid through his throat, together forming a
halter that jerked him towards Harry. He couldn�t regret the step he took. He
had been waiting for this all day.

�� What?� he
breathed.

�� Your
back,� Harry said, and turned his.

�� Draco
clenched his fists for a moment, and then followed again without speaking or
revealing his outrage aloud. Harry carried Lucius�s health in his beating
heart. It wouldn�t do to allow him to get too far ahead.

�� But Draco
was feeling less sanguine about the project to get Harry into his bed and
introduce him to the comforts a Malfoy should accept than he had been three
hours back. Harry was generous and noble and disinterested, but he had his
faults, too. And one of them was that he didn�t appear to desire things any
reasonable person should desire.

Draco didn�t know anyone who
honestly disliked attention, flirtation, and the offer of companionship,
though. Which meant Harry was lying to both Draco and himself.

It�s
a sad day, when a former Death Eater has to teach the Savior of the Wizarding
World honesty.

*

�� Number
Twelve Grimmauld Place, the house Harry showed him to�at least, after they�d
got past the illusion that concealed it in the middle of a Muggle
neighborhood�was a bloody mess.

�� Everywhere,
Draco could see the signs of long neglect: faint stains on the walls that magic
had done its best to help but couldn�t erase; strips that showed repaired paper
or paint; fainter scorch marks and the indefinable, half-there soot that was
the result of careless use of Dark magic. The entrance corridor was far too
small and dusky, with lamps that Harry lit with a flick of his wand. Draco
curled his lip when he saw the narrow, dark stairs leading to the upper floor,
and the doorway that led to the kitchen. That doorway had once borne mold or
mildew. Draco could still smell it if he sniffed.

�� What was
Harry thinking? With the staircase, particularly.
Given his glasses, and his lack of sight without them, it was a wonder he
hadn�t stumbled on it and broken his neck already. He needed a place where he
could walk an entire wing without encountering stairs, and where the ones he
did have to walk were broad and well-lit.

�� Somewhere
like the Manor.

�� I can�t
believe you live here,� he said,
because he planned to practice honesty with Harry now.

�� Harry gave
him a glance that combined weariness, patience, and amusement. Draco snarled
silently under his breath. Harry had no right to look as if it were costing him
time and will simply to be around Draco. If anything, he was the one who ought
to be given an Order of Merlin, Third Class, for dealing with Harry.

�� My
godfather left it to me,� Harry said. �I�m afraid your mother didn�t impress
him as a trustworthy custodian.�

�� Make that an Order of Merlin, Second Class. That
was an unworthy conclusion for Harry to jump to. Draco cooled his voice as he
said, �You think I�m angry because the Black house didn�t pass into my hands?
Good God, Potter. I wouldn�t live here if you paid me.�

�� Harry
reached out and touched the banister as if he would topple over at that
announcement, but he sounded happy rather than distressed, the way that Draco
would have wished him to be. �And no one is paying you to dance attendance on
me. You might as well leave now.�

�� Draco
choked on Harry�s stubbornness and managed to swallow it in the end. It was
time to laugh, to show that he was unaffected by words like that, so that
eventually Harry would give up saying them. Even he wasn�t stupid enough to keep using weapons that wouldn�t work.
�I was using the word �live� in a more permanent sense,� he said, stepping past
Harry to study a prominent stain on the nearest wall. He had to shudder
fastidiously at the sight of it. Hadn�t there been a house-elf attached to the
Black house? Why hadn�t it cleaned this spot better? Of course, considering
Granger�s attitude towards house-elves and Harry�s attachment to her, he
probably hadn�t driven it to rigorous enough pursuit of its duties.� �Once you�ve come to your senses, I�m sure I
can help you find a house you needn�t be ashamed to have company in.�

�� I would be
ashamed to associate with anyone you thought of as suitable company,� Harry
snapped, and then stepped into the kitchen. Draco poked at the stain for a
moment with his wand before he followed; a whispered charm had no effect on it.
If Harry was going to put away the Dark artifacts that Draco was sure had once
crowded the place, he could at least have cleaned up after himself.

�� And then
the remembrance of what Harry had done for Lucius came back, and Draco stifled
a sigh. Harry was blood, no matter what. Draco could have wished for a
sensibility more like his own, true, but�

�� And then he
stepped into the kitchen and jerked to a stop. At least this time he managed to
curl his tongue in his mouth instead of curling his lip; Harry was seeing far
too much of his open disgust as it was.

�� Harry was
eating a sandwich from a plate of them that had sat in the middle of the table
for God knew how long. From this distance, Draco could feel that there was no
Preserving Charm on them. Next to them was a cup of tea with only a mild spell
to keep it warm on the porcelain. And Harry was snapping at the sandwich like a
large fish devouring a small one. He should have sat down to a calm, extensive
meal after the magic and time and emotional commitment he�d spent today on his
patients, and still he refused. Draco
could have kicked the wall in frustration, but, like a mature wizard, he found
an outlet in words instead.

�� You live a
cramped life, don�t you?�

�� Harry
continued wolfing his sandwich. Draco so strongly imagined stepping towards
him, gripping his wrist, and wrenching the food away from him until he could
eat properly that he was mildly surprised to find he hadn�t actually done it. �As
before,� Harry said, obviously uninterested in his opinion, �you�re welcome to
leave and go back to St. Mungo�s if you like. Or Malfoy Manor.�

�� And you really think I would go away without
my new brother? Draco bit back the words, though. It was only too likely
that Harry would decide to be relentlessly literal once more and point out that
he and Draco hadn�t shared a womb. �You have no idea what a sacrifice of life
force means, either.�

�� Harry
turned around and stared at him then. Draco felt a faint tremble of hope. Maybe
the love of direct explanations Harry seemed to entertain would work for him
after all. Harry had curiosity and doubt warring together behind his eyes,
because he had never learned to hide his emotions; Draco could work with
either. �I know life debts can endure between wizards who neither trust nor
like each other,� Harry said. �I can�t believe that you would insist on its
importance the way you�re doing.�

�� He thinks to compare this to a life debt? Draco
licked his lips to get rid of the taste of frustration, and decided that it was
probably the best comparison that would occur to Harry, uneducated little
wanker that he was.

�� There�s no reason I can�t dislike a member
of the family sometimes, he addressed the ghost of Narcissa breathing
reproach in his mind. Particularly when
he�s so exasperating.

�� It�s more
than important,� Draco said. �It�s almost�it means��

�� And all his
fine intentions broke apart like light bouncing off shattered glass, because
there was no room for the words he wanted to speak in Harry�s world. No ability
to bridge the gap between them, as long as he lived in a house like this and didn�t have the sense of
brooding danger that constrained Draco�s movements and emotions every time he was
beyond the walls of his home. How was he to explain their constant danger to
someone who had always had the world at his beck and call? Why should Harry
want to trade his friendly perceptions for
one of constant danger, anyway?

He made a small frustrated noise in
his throat, shaking his head. �I don�t have the words to explain it. This would
be so much easier if you were a
pure-blood,� he finished. He knew he sounded as if he was nagging, but he
didn�t care. Perhaps Harry would take the hint and begin to do research in the
books that surely must occupy the Black family library here.

�� I�ve made
your life hard from the day I appeared in it,� Harry said. �Why ruin a fine
tradition?� He packed the second sandwich into his mouth and ate it so hard
that crumbs of bread and meat and cheese flew out of the corners of his lips.
Draco winced. Harry, of course, not content with that performance, gathered up
a third and strolled away towards the stairs.

�� Draco
followed. He had no fear that Harry would get lost in his own house, but there
was always the possibility of a fall from the stairs, and Draco actually hoped
for one. That would let him get his hands on Harry�s body.

�� And there
were no wards on this house, or
nothing worth noticing. It made Draco so uneasy he tasted constant bile in the
back of his throat when he swallowed.

�� You�ll
have a bedroom near mine, the better to hear me if I scream for help. I hope
you won�t be too bored.� Harry spoke without looking over his shoulder, and
with his mouth full of sandwich.

�� Fuck honesty. Let�s return to the flirting,
and see if that has any effect.

�� Listening
to you scream for me could never be
boring.� Draco deliberately made his voice low and breathy.

�� Harry
continued climbing without looking around. �You shouldn�t lack for comforts
here,� he went on. Draco scowled. Perhaps some of his concern about Harry�s
comfort had sunk in after all, but of course Harry couldn�t apply those
thoughts to himself. �Kreacher�s kept
up all the bedrooms, and there�s a great deal more furniture in storage. He can
prepare any food you like��

�� I wouldn�t
have known, from that plate of sandwiches in the kitchen.� Or the way you eat them.

�� That�s
simply what I like to eat.� Harry turned around on the top step, shrugged, and
then evinced a faint blush. Draco nearly blinked, then realized that he stood
at a height that put his eyes at the level of Harry�s arse. If Harry thought he
had done that on purpose, who was Draco to disabuse him of the notion? �You
needn�t feel bound by my tastes.�

�� Draco
couldn�t help himself. One thing Harry had a talent for, besides exasperating
people and mediwizardry, was straight lines. �If your taste runs to bondage��

�� You�re
quite certain your mastery isn�t in innuendo?� Harry had a bite of ice in his
voice now, and he gestured Draco towards three of the shut doors with all the
regality of a king dismissing the knight who had fucked around with his wife.
�All those rooms are fitted as bedrooms. Choose which one you like.�

��

�� Draco
wanted to stamp his foot. It wasn�t fair,
that none of his strategies were working. He would simply have to change
tactics again. Perhaps Harry would like some information about his life, and he
had already brought up Draco�s mastery, which would give him an opening.

�� I decided
to take a mastery in potions partially in remembrance of Professor Snape,�
Draco said, and opened the first door. He knew at once he wouldn�t take it�he
simply couldn�t deal with that large an unwarded window�but he kept talking so
that Harry wouldn�t think Draco was rejecting his hospitality too quickly. �But
soon enough I realized a passion for the art that I hadn�t had in years. It
reminded me of simpler times, before I had to make decisions that could have
meant life and death for my entire family.� He let himself shudder as the
memory rose. The sixteen-year-old he had tried desperately to kill still lived
in his dreams. �I recaptured some of that whilst I worked on the earlier stages
of my mastery. It was as if I were growing through a childhood and adolescence
I�d missed into a stronger person. Now that I�m working on the more stringent
potions, I can finally feel like an adult.�

�� There was a
shuffle behind him, as though Harry had been about to step forwards and thought
better of it. Draco disliked how much the small stab of hope pricking his belly
meant to him. At least that was a better reaction than he�d received so far. He
shut the door of the first room and opened the second.

�� The wards
glowed more thickly here, to the point where Draco could sense the tingle of
the magic along his nerves instead of squinting and prying after it, and the
walls were thicker. His shoulders relaxed, and he decided to let Harry see
that, too. �I�ll take this one.� Perhaps he should mix in some flirtation
again. He let his eyes dart quickly over Harry. �Unless you meant the offer of
sharing your bed with me, of course,� he added.

�� There is
nothing I want to do less right now,� Harry said.

�� But Draco
had seen the leap and flicker of interest in his eyes, like flames rising from
banked embers. It made him remember the way Harry had looked when he cast the
Heart�s Blessing spell, and he longed to lean forwards and wrap his fingers
around Harry�s chin and jaw. He�s lying.
He�s interested.

�Except possibly explaining your
presence in my house to my friends,� Harry had to say then, and douse Draco�s
lust with images of Weasley and Granger.

A sharp hiss cut through the
silence between them. Draco nearly drew his wand until he noticed the faint
emotion on Harry�s face: irritation, not surprise. He sighed. �Stay here for a
few minutes,� he said. �Come when I call you.�

�� Draco
bowed. He had not the least intention of obeying; if he were to understand
Harry, he needed to watch him when he was in company with people he would have more
natural reactions to. �A skill I haven�t yet had the pleasure to learn, but
would be more than happy to master for you,� he said.

�� Harry
whirled away too suddenly for the gesture to be casual. Draco smiled�and he
didn�t think it was a desperate and strained smile, and, even if it was, no one
was looking at him�and cast a silencing charm on his boots, then waited a count
of one hundred before he carefully followed.

�� It was the
first time this afternoon he�d been able to analyze his emotions for a moment
instead of simply feeling them. He was stunned to realize that he was quite
enjoying himself, for all the frustration that Harry provided.

It had been years since anyone but
his mother or father had provoked reactions this strong, and the surprises
Harry handed him were infinitely more pleasurable than the panic of his
father�s illness.

I
was right. I needed a challenge. And I�ll have him yet. No one can ignore the
ties of blood forever.

*

Thrnbrooke: Thanks for reviewing!

Dreamer1: Thanks! �Fraid this
chapter was more of a rehash of events than usual, but hopefully Draco�s
perspective added something to it.

Roozette: I think Narcissa is much
stronger than she�s often portrayed, but I must admit, this portrait of her as
less emotional than Draco and Lucius is not one I�ve done often.

I actually didn�t have the idea to
rewrite this story until someone else suggested it. But thank you for
reviewing, and for the Declaration of Love!

Noir: Thank you!

Well, Draco feels the same thing:
he thinks he�s being forceful, but Harry doesn�t think so. ;)

Narcissa thinks of Harry as a less
complicated personality, one who won�t teach Draco as much. How wrong she is.

Linagabriev: Well, in the other
story, Draco was standing at the top of the stairs after the conversation with
Xavier, and Harry saw him there, but never knew how much he�d overheard.

They would have accepted anyone who
shed blood for them; the gift is that great. But someone who is pure-blooded
would have been less likely to do it for that very reason. They would be
expected to accept the family allegiance over their own.

Sharkoon: In some ways, it�s easier
because I don�t have to come up with a lot of plot developments, but yes, the
perspective is much more analytical.

Slytherdor: Thank you!

Paigeey07: Thank you
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For Their Unconquerable Souls