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Inter Vivos	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 42948 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Seven�Strength

�� Harry just
stood gazing at the Firebolt for long moments, his
hands moving slowly up and down the shaft of the broom. His heart and his lungs
both seemed small; it was hard to breathe, to feel his heart beating.

�� Someone had
sent him another broom to replace his lost Nimbus. It was a Christmas gift. It
was like the gifts he had received from Hagrid, from Dumbledore, from the
Weasleys. It had given him back the skies, and possibly the Quidditch team, if
Oliver Wood and McGonagall would agree to let him rejoin the team so late in
the year.

�� It was a
gift he would always keep safe.

�� He had just
started to lift his wand so he could cast protective charms on it when he felt
someone tugging on the bristles. He whirled around. Hermione faltered when she
saw the expression on his face, but she continued to pull on the broom.

�� Harry,�
she said grimly, �it could be from Sirius Black. It could be a trap. Remember the way Quirrell hexed
your broom and tried to make you fall off in first year? Well, Black�s a Death
Eater, too! Maybe he�s just taking the easier route this time!�

�� She was
almost in tears, but Harry didn�t care. No one was taking his broom away to
test it for hexes. He might not get it back again. Someone might decide to take
it; he didn�t think McGonagall, who he was sure Hermione intended to give the
broom to, always kept her office locked. Or Seamus might find out that the
broom was Harry�s and destroy it.

�� No,� Harry
said, in a voice that made Hermione take a step back. �I don�t care. It�s mine.�

�� Harry��

�� I�ll test
it for Dark Arts spells myself,� Harry said. He almost added, I know someone who can do that, but then
remembered that Hermione and Ron had never known how much Professor Snape had
helped him last year. And he hadn�t told them what Snape had said about his
parents, either. He wanted to have the knowledge in private for a little while.
�I�ll find the books. I�ll ask Professor Lupin.�
There. That would do. Ron and Hermione knew he was receiving lessons from Lupin in the Patronus Charm.

�� Hermione
leaned forwards, her hands clasped in front of her. �But, Harry,� she said,
speaking so fast Harry almost heard babble, �you might miss something. It might
be dangerous. It really needs to be taken away and tested extensively, maybe
destroyed if��

�� The next
moment, she shrieked and clapped a hand to her cheek. Ron, who had been watching
them both in alarm, jumped back. �Harry, did you just hex her?� he demanded.

�� It was a
Stinging Hex,� Harry said, and turned away, cradling the broom in both hands as
he carried it to the bed. �That�s all. A little spark.�

�� Ron�s voice
was angry. �Mate, I can�t believe you�d do that over a broom.�

�� It�s mine,� said Harry, and climbed into the
bed, and hugged the broom.

�� Ron and
Hermione argued with him, or tried. Harry lay there and pretended not to listen
until they went away. Then he opened his eyes and stroked the broom�s bristles
softly, admiringly.

�� At the
moment, he really didn�t care if Sirius Black was a Death Eater. He had done
the thing that had made Harry feel the best since Seamus had destroyed the
Invisibility Cloak and his other things. He could almost have showed up and
tried to kill him, for that. At the very least, Harry would have listened if he
wanted to talk.

�� Wings
fluttered above him. Harry sat up. If Hermione had found McGonagall and had her
send him a letter saying that he had to give up the broom, Harry wouldn�t read
it.

�� But it was
an owl from the twins, who Mrs. Weasley had demanded spend the Christmas
holidays at home because she wanted to keep them from playing any pranks at
Hogwarts as long as she could. Harry opened the envelope, and a piece of
many-times-folded parchment fell out. Harry picked it up, but it was blank.

�� He blinked,
and read the twins� letter.

�� Happy Christmas, Harry!

�� We thought and thought about what to get you
for a present for Christmas, and finally we hit the perfect thing. This is a
map we found during our first year in Hogwarts. It shows the secret tunnels in
the school and the people walking around.

�� Harry
glanced doubtfully at the parchment, wondering if the twins had found a way to
play tricks under Mrs. Weasley�s nose after all.

�� Now we�re giving it to you. We think you
need it more than us. You tap the map with your wand and say, �I solemnly swear
that I am up to no good,� to activate it. When you�re done, tap it with your
wand and say, �Mischief managed,� and the map goes away again. Try it!

�� Gred and Forge (we have to go, Mum�s after us
for turning one of the gnomes in the back garden into a spider and trying to
send it to Ron).

�� Harry spent
some time staring at the �map,� and wondering if he wanted to trust the twins.
But then he shrugged lightly, placed his broom carefully under the bed and out
of the way, and tapped his wand on the parchment. �I solemnly swear I�m up to
no good,� he whispered.

�� Before his
dazzled eyes, lines raced across the map. Harry bent over it eagerly, watching
as it became the corridors, and corners, and tunnels, and rooms of Hogwarts. In
each place a person was, there was a small dot with the person�s name beside
it. It was rather empty right now, but Harry could only imagine how full it
would be when everyone came back from Christmas holidays.

�� He would have
to write an enthusiastic letter to the twins, he decided. But later. For now,
his eyes focused on the dot labeled Severus
Snape in the dungeons, and he retrieved the broom. He was sure Snape would
demand some payment, but Harry was perfectly willing to scrub some cauldrons or
skin some snakes.

�� He needed
to know about Dark Arts spells.

*

�� And I have
another Christmas gift for you, Draco.�

�� Draco
looked up and arranged his face into a pleased smile. Really, he wanted to be
left alone to read the book of wizarding history that his mum had got him, but
one smiled when Lucius said something like this.

�� His father
lounged in a large, comfortable chair near the fireplace in the Manor�s
grandest drawing room. Draco liked the room�s arched ceilings and bluish-green
carpet so thick it felt like grass, but he didn�t like the way Lucius seemed to
reorient all those things so that they pointed to him. It was a subtle trick,
and one that he had said Draco would need to learn in order to gain respect in
the future. Draco wasn�t sure he wanted to learn it.

�� Lucius
sipped from a glass of smoky wine and gave Draco a narrow smile in return. �I
have commenced proceedings to have the beast who bit you executed.�

�� Draco
started. Since he had been home, he had almost forgotten about the wound. There
was no Pansy Parkinson to pat him on the shoulder and coo at him about it, and
there was no Potter to annoy and make guilty.

�� Not that that last worked out too well, Draco
had to admit. He thought Potter would scramble after him apologizing for the
rest of term. Instead, it seemed as though Potter looked at him now and then,
and felt sorry, and then dismissed him. He certainly hadn�t paid any attention
to Draco in the last few days before Christmas, when he was furiously brooding
on something else.

�� Draco had
to worry that maybe the glances he�d thought were Potter�s attention weren�t.
He dropped them so easily. Maybe Potter had just looked across the room
sometimes, and seen Draco in the way of his eyes, and suffered little twinges
of guilt. But they weren�t big enough to make him try and be friends with Draco
again.

�� Are you
not pleased?�

�� Lucius�s
voice had become dangerous. Draco started for a different reason and
immediately looked at his father and widened his smile into the smirk that
Lucius would expect of him.

�� Of course,
Father,� he said. �Very.� He paused a moment, to give the impression of
thinking over a delicate situation, and then said, �I assume that all the
objections have been dealt with, and the giant oaf won�t be able to save his
pet?�

�� Lucius
laughed. �Indeed! Otherwise, I would have presented you with this gift
considerably sooner.� He waved a hand. �Oh, the idiot will try some appeals,
doubtless, and so will Dumbledore. But I have studied the laws carefully. The
appeals will fail in time. The beast should be executed no later than May or
June.� He nodded his head and leaned forwards. �And if it is after the school
year, I promise, we will make a special expedition to Hogwarts so that you may
see the savage creature die.�

�� I�d like
that, Father, thank you.� Draco knew the words were empty when he said them,
but he�d said emptier, and Lucius had never noticed.

�� Lucius leaned
back in his chair and smirked at him in return. Then he noticed his glass was
empty and tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair. A house-elf appeared
a moment later, pouring out more smoky wine with a subdued air.

�� Draco
winced. He had recognized the house-elf with one glance. It seemed that the day
in the library had made it impossible for him to forget Dobby.

�� One of the
elf�s ears was missing. He had long scars up and down his shoulders and arms,
and Draco shuddered; he knew house-elves could heal themselves from almost any
abuse, so he wasn�t sure what had caused that.
His left eye was covered with a weepy yellow film. Draco curled his lip as it
dripped on the carpet.

�� Luckily, of
all his gestures, that was the one Lucius chose to see and interpret. He smiled
again and put his hand on Dobby�s head, turning him
forcefully around to face Draco. Dobby whimpered, but didn�t protest his rough
treatment.

�� Yes,
Draco,� said Lucius, shaking the elf slightly. �See the fate of those who defy
me. This elf helped Harry Potter, or attempted to help him, during that small
debacle last year.� He clucked his tongue. �He is sorry, aren�t you?�

�� Dobby is
sorry,� said the elf, but in a dull voice that carried no conviction.

�� Draco
stared at him, and felt his stomach turn over. And he thought of his father�s
offer to get the hippogriff that bit him executed, and it did the same thing.

�� His father
was�cruel.

�� Oh, he�d
known that before; it was one reason he was so careful about the way he reacted
to Lucius. But Lucius had never touched Draco that way. He just spoke to him,
words that sliced Draco apart inside. He had accepted that it was his father�s
way of showing love and trying to make sure he was strong enough to go out and
face the world of Mudbloods and half-bloods.

�� But here he
was hurting creatures and animals who couldn�t fight back.

�� Draco felt
a strained tension pulling tighter in his stomach as his father dismissed Dobby
and began talking about something different, something connected with the Black
inheritance Draco could possibly have through his mother. He didn�t like seeing
Dobby hurt, even though he didn�t really know why.

�� And he felt
like he had to do something about it, but he didn�t know what.

*

�� What kind
of Dark Arts spell do you think might
be on it?� Severus asked, clinging to his patience with dozens of small, tiny
hooks of self-interest. Think of what
your relationship with the boy will become if you can make him trust you. Think
of what he will decide when it is your instruction, and not the werewolf�s, that
saves his life. As Severus had suspected, Lupin
was a poor Defense teacher, giving the students instruction mostly in facing
magical creatures, and not in identifying the spells and curses that could most
easily hurt them.

�� On the other hand, perhaps he feels a
kinship with those creatures he shows the students. Severus felt a small
smile tugging at his lips. That was a fine piece of wit. Too bad that, due to
Dumbledore�s instructions not to reveal that Lupin
was a werewolf, he would not get to share it.

�� Perhaps he
should get Filius drunk. The Charms professor was
vicious when filled with alcohol, apt to appreciate any jokes that Severus
wanted to make.

�� A curse to
break the broom in midair?� Potter offered at last.

�� Severus
turned back to the boy in front of him. Potter had one hand resting lightly on
the Firebolt where it lay on the table in Severus�s
office. He seemed unwilling to let go of it for a moment. Severus felt a brief
stab of regret. If he had been wise, he would have offered the boy not only
advice but also gifts, to replace the ones he had lost. However, if he did it
now, it would seem he was merely imitating Black, or whoever had sent this
broom.

�� And how
would you detect such a spell?� Severus asked.

�� Potter
straightened his shoulders and glared. �I don�t know. Someone has removed most
of the books on detecting specific curses from the library.�

�� Severus
kept his face impassive, but that was news to him, though he remembered
Dumbledore doing something similar when he was a student, to �keep the children
safe.� He would have to find out if that was the case again, or simply Madam Pince acting on some strange, book-protecting impulse of
her own.

�� I will
show you a general detection spell,� Severus said. �When once cast, it must be
refined with the name of the spell you wish to detect.� He drew his wand and
waved it in a long, slow arc above the Firebolt. Potter
watched his motions with furiously attentive eyes.

�� Severus
restrained the impulse to chuckle. Lupin had accosted
him again twice in the two weeks since Christmas, trying to demand that Severus
tell the boy that the wolf had good reasons for concealing the truth from him.
Apparently Potter had not been back for anything but a Patronus
lesson in that time, and then he had avoided eye contact with Lupin.

�� Remarkably similar to your behavior during
your schooldays, trying to force someone else to do your defiance and dirty
work for you, Severus had told Lupin, and the
wolf had left in a rage.

�� It was
pleasant, however, not only to hurt the werewolf, but also to have a student
who was as keen to learn as Potter was. Draco�s interest in Potions came from a
natural talent for it; he would have tried to learn more even if it were Slughorn teaching the subject, Severus knew. He returned
his attention to the spell as he slowly and clearly enunciated the syllables.

�� Deprehendo ancipitis!�

�� The broom
began to glow, a fuzzy line of blue, boiling light connecting it and the tip of
Severus�s wand. Potter sucked in a breath. �Does that mean it�s cursed?� he
whispered.

�� No,�
Severus said, teeth half-gritted as he resisted the tug of the incomplete
spell. It wanted to be said, which was the main disadvantage of two-part magic;
Severus had seen it destroy some competent wizards when they became distracted
by an enemy and unable to finish the incantation. �Only that it awaits the
spell we wish to detect. Deprehendo abrumpo!�

�� The line of
blue light and the invisible tension building in Severus both snapped at the
same time. Potter�s face cleared as the last traces of blue dissipated. �So that
means that it�s not cursed?�

�� It is not
cursed with the particular spell that would cause it to break apart in midair,�
Severus said. �There may be other Dark hexes on it. The Deprehendo spell can find only one at a time.�

�� Potter
nodded, not even complaining about the amount of work the detection of other
curses would involve, which was most unlike a Potter. Then he took up his wand.
�How do I find another spell?� he asked.

�� You must
know the incantation of the one you wish to detect,� Severus said. �Abrumpo is that
of the spell that could destroy the broom. Thus the Curse Detection Spell,
though powerful, is considered rather useless by some, because it requires
extensive knowledge of curses.�

�� Potter�s
eyes shot to him. His breath caught, and for a long, cynical moment, Severus
wondered if the boy would pass out on the floor. But then he shook his head and
spoke with only a slight hitch in his speech. �That means I�d have to learn
Dark Arts, doesn�t it?�

�� Are you
afraid, Potter?� Severus added the most delicate trace of a sneer to his voice.
If anything would goad a Gryffindor to continue study of the Dark Arts, it was
the accusation of cowardice.

�� And then he
remembered, as he saw Potter�s eyes go hard, that this student was not entirely
a Gryffindor, and he could have called himself a fool.

�� I�m trying
to decide if I want to have Dark Arts in my head,� Potter said. �Voldemort is
there already. And�other people.� He bit his lip, as though Severus had tried
to force his way into his mind through Legilimency
and he�d felt it. �It contaminates people, doesn�t it?�

�� The Dark
Arts?� Severus overcame his surprise that he was having this particular
discussion with this particular student and forced himself to speak evenly. �No
more than the knowledge of other atrocities does. Do you feel lessened, or
dirtied, because you know that Voldemort killed your parents? Because you know
that Finnigan�s malice drove him to destroy your
possessions?�

�� Potter
looked down at the floor and said nothing for long moments. Then he muttered,
�I don�t have to use it.�

�� No,�
Severus agreed. �Though many wizards do, because the thought of having all that
power within them is too tempting.�

�� Potter
looked up at him, blinking, and then laughed. Severus started. That was still
not something he heard Potter do often.

�� Why would
anyone want power?� Potter asked simply.

�� Severus
said nothing. He suspected this was one of the grounds on which the gap between
Potter and himself was too wide to cross.

�� All
right.� Potter stood with his wand out in front of him, the way he had when he
faced Draco in the Dueling Club last year. �Teach me.�

*

�� Harry woke
up that Friday morning fed up with the prickling tension that gathered at the
base of his spine. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and sometimes nodding
as he made up his mind.

�� He�d had
too many arguments lately, with everyone except Snape. There was the argument
with Ron and Hermione over the Firebolt, which was
only partially resolved. Hermione seemed soothed that he was getting �Lupin�s�
help with detecting Dark curses on the broom, but she still wanted him not to
use it for a few months. And Ron, caught awkwardly between his best friends
because of the Stinging Hex Harry had used on Hermione, sometimes nodded along.

�� Things were
still tense with Lupin. Harry thought he could
forgive him now, though. So Lupin had lied to him. It
was nothing more than a lot of other adults in his life had done. And Lupin was a lot nicer than the Dursleys.
Harry wasn�t going to trust him, except when it came to studying the Patronus Charm, but he could forgive him.

�� And there
was Malfoy.

�� Harry
sucked thoughtfully at his lip. He doubted that Ron and Hermione would approve
of the bargain he wanted to make with Malfoy. On the other hand, he saw no
choice but to make it if he was going to save Buckbeak�s
life. Lucius Malfoy had started the proceedings to get Buckbeak
executed, and Harry thought Draco was the only one who could persuade his
father to change his mind.

�� If Draco
did that, then Harry was willing to be his friend.

�� Harry heard
the sounds of the other boys moving around then, and so he got up and got ready
for the day.

*

�� Draco was
surprised to see Potter looking at him thoughtfully in Potions class that
morning. Since Christmas holidays, Potter hadn�t bothered paying attention to
him at all, and so Draco had taken the bandage off his arm; under it, his wound
from the hippogriff was long-healed. He�d also almost given up on thoughts of
what he could do to get Potter to accept him again. His irritation with himself
wouldn�t let him think of anything new, and his pride asked why he had to be the one to give in. Hadn�t
he already said enough when he let Potter know why he�d insulted the
hippogriff?

�� But now
Potter was looking at him.

�� Draco
lingered outside Potions, and sure enough, Potter caught him up. The Weasel
stared at Potter with small, hard eyes, but the know-it-all swept past them as
if they weren�t worth her time.

�� It�s all
right, Ron,� Potter said calmly. His voice shook a little, but not enough that
Draco thought Weasley would notice. �I�ll be there in a minute.�

�� Weasley
snorted softly, but turned away. Potter�s friends did seem a bit more eager to
abandon him lately, Draco thought. He had the impression there�d been some sort
of argument.

�� He hoped
not, though, a moment later. He couldn�t stand it if Potter was just seeking
him out as a second-best replacement for one set of lost friends.

�� Listen,
Malfoy,� Potter said, tugging them into a small alcove and casting the privacy
ward that Draco had taught him last year. Draco felt a small flame of hope.
Potter had remembered the spell, then, not rejected it in revulsion because it
was a Slytherin who taught it to him. Maybe there was a reason to hope. �I know
that your father�s planning to execute Buckbeak.�

�� Draco felt
his spine go stiff, his face chill. At least Potter blinked.

�� I have no
interest in saving the wretched creature�s life,� Draco said. He knew he was at
least half-lying, but Potter didn�t need to know that. Draco�s speculations
about cruelty and morality since Christmas were just that, his. He turned his
back and started to raise his wand to counteract the privacy ward.

�� It�s not
only that,� said Potter, and caught his arm. Draco looked down. Potter�s hand
rested right where the hippogriff scar was. Potter saw it a moment later, and
he swallowed a little, but he didn�t take his hand away. He even leaned nearer,
and Draco suffered a brief moment of dizziness. He didn�t know why, but having
Potter this close and paying this much attention�civil attention, even�affected
him as if he were falling off a broom.

�� He hated
the weakness, but he didn�t see that he could do anything about it. Potter had always affected him that way.

�� I know you
got injured because you wanted my attention,� Potter began.

�� I didn�t,�
Draco said automatically, and then flushed when Potter shook his head.

�� I heard
you say it,� Potter said. Luckily, he didn�t waste time taunting Draco about
it. �Listen. I�m willing to be your friend again. It was your fault you got
hurt, but knowing why you did it�� He trailed off, then took a deep breath and
went on. �Listen, I�ve never had anyone try to be my friend as hard as you did.
Even Ron and Hermione just sort of fell into it, and I think Ron wanted to be
my friend at first because I was the Boy-Who-Lived. I�m willing to give you a
chance.�

�� Draco eyed
him skeptically, keeping the excitement rising in his stomach at bay as best he
could. �And what do you want in return?�

�� Potter flushed
this time. He looked at the floor and mumbled something.

�� Well?�
Draco wished he could slap Potter�s hand away and stand tall and strong, the
way his father would, but he doubted Potter would understand. And besides, the
thought of being like Lucius now caused a slow swirl of dread to roll around in
his stomach.

�� I want you
to talk to your father about calling off the execution on Buckbeak,�
Potter said quietly.

�� So there is a price.� Draco hadn�t realized his
own voice could sound so bitter.

�� Yeah,
there is.� Potter looked up at him almost candidly. �But I�ll still be your
friend, even after that.�

�� Draco stood
there in silence for a long time, trying to decide if he thought Potter�s offer
was insulting or not. On the one hand, he really would have wanted to be wanted
for himself, and not because he could do something for Potter.

�� On the
other hand, he�d probably done too much to Potter for the other boy to just
accept him now. And Potter must have waited to see some sign from Draco that he
still cared about their friendship. Instead, Draco had kept on trying to guilt
Potter before Christmas, even though he�d seen it didn�t work, and he hadn�t
looked at him since then.

�� And this
was a way to relieve at least part of the cruelty Draco had decided he hated so
much.

�� All
right,� he said, and Potter�s face softened and shone in a way that made Draco embarrassed
for him. Honestly, who smiled that
much? �But you have to do something else for me.�

�� Anything,�
Potter said eagerly.

�� You need to
help me get up the courage and come up with a way to confront my father,� Draco
said harshly. �And I�m going to need Professor Snape�s help, too, not just
yours.�

�� Potter
didn�t even hesitate, but clasped his hand.

*

�� Come in,
Harry.�

�� Harry
wondered for a moment how Professor Lupin had known
it was him, but then decided he probably had detection spells on his door, or
maybe Harry always knocked in a particular way and Lupin
had noticed. Aunt Petunia had always been able to tell when it was Harry and
not Dudley moving around on the stairs or in the kitchen.

�� Though that�s only because Dudley
is enormously fat, Harry thought, as he opened the office door, and breaks things if he even tries to get
his own breakfast.

�� Lupin looked up and gave Harry a faint smile. There were
always a few days every few weeks when he looked pale and worn. Harry sometimes
wondered if he was sick, like a girl who had lived briefly on Privet Drive and
had had leukemia, but he didn�t ask. He knew Lupin
would only lie about it.

�� Ah,
Harry,� he said. �Are you here for your next lesson in the Patronus
Charm? Your last one was very good. You almost managed to produce a full one.�

�� Hi,
Professor,� Harry said, and shut the door behind him, leaning against it. �I
wanted to say that I�m used to people keeping secrets from me, so I think I can
like you again.�

�� Lupin took a deep breath and leaned forwards, his eyes
bright and intent and his nose twitching for some reason. �Do you understand
the reasons I kept the secrets,
Harry?� he asked yearningly. �Why I couldn�t explain to you, even though I
wanted to?�

�� No,� Harry
said. �Because you didn�t explain the reasons, you just said they were there.� Honestly, adults are stupid. And they always
want more than I want to give them. Even Snape was like that, with the way
that he kept pushing Harry to come for extra time practicing the Dark Arts
lessons and the way he sometimes asked �casual� questions about how Harry was
doing in other classes and his life before Hogwarts. Harry thought they got
along pretty well as it was. He didn�t know why Snape wanted more.

�� I still
can�t explain all of them,� said Lupin quietly.
�Lives depend on my keeping these secrets.�

�� Harry
nodded politely, pretending to believe that. If that was the case, Lupin never would have admitted the truth when Harry
confronted him.

�� But I can
tell you that I wanted you to have a childhood.� Lupin
looked at him with that same longing expression, which made Harry feel both
pleased and a bit uncomfortable. It was the way Aunt Petunia sometimes looked
at Dudley just before she exclaimed to one of
her friends that �her little Dudders was growing up
so fast.� �I wanted you to be an ordinary boy for a bit longer. I know you�ve
done remarkable things, but you should have the chance to be normal, too. Don�t
you want that?�

�� Harry
choked, because that was one of his
own innermost desires. But he didn�t see any way to make it come true. Normal
children didn�t grow up in cupboards, and they didn�t defeat Dark Lords. Maybe,
when he�d made Voldemort go away forever, he could be normal, but he didn�t
think he could now.

�� But he knew
the expression Lupin was using to look at him. It was
the one adults always used when they thought they knew better, when they�d made
some proclamation and just wanted you to agree. So Harry did. �Yes, Professor.�

�� Oh, good.�
Lupin stood up, came around the desk, and extended
his hand. Harry shook it. �So, if you want, you can ask me questions about your
parents, Harry. Just�not big ones. But I�ll be happy to tell you what Lily�s
favorite food was, or what subjects James liked in school.�

�� Harry
looked up at Lupin for long seconds in silence, the
man�s hand clasped in his. Lupin looked so earnest. He had always looked like that,
Harry thought, from the first day they met on the train.

�� And he was
offering knowledge that Harry hadn�t had before. And he wanted Harry to be
normal, which was nice.

�� But he was
still lying. And he still wouldn�t always tell the truth. And he wanted Harry
to be normal by pretending, which was
a game Harry despised. No matter how much he pretended when he was a child that
he was going to wake up tomorrow and be gone from the Dursleys�,
he knew it wouldn�t come true.

�� And no
matter how much he pretended to be a hero when he was younger, he never would
have done it if he knew what the reality would be like.

�� So Harry
could like him, and listen to him, and learn from him. But he couldn�t trust
him, just the same way he couldn�t really trust Snape. Harry wouldn�t trust any
adults because they wouldn�t trust him.

�� So it�s the same thing I decided before I
came here.

�� Thanks,�
he said. �Now, what about the Patronus Charm?�

�� Lupin beamed, and went to fetch the trunk with the boggart in it. Harry drew his wand and began chanting the
incantation to himself, ready to cast it the moment the boggart
appeared.

�� And as soon
as the lesson was done, he would use the map and find Ron and Hermione. He had
a few apologies to make to them, too, and some things to tell them.

*

�� I do not
quite understand the purpose of this meeting,� Severus said, and kept his voice
cold and smooth, the fold of his arms easy and forbidding rather than
defensive. Heaven forbid that these�children
begin to think that they could corral or work around him. �Mr. Potter, what
exactly is it that you desire of Mr. Malfoy?�

�� Potter was
the one who took a step forwards, with Draco following him, almost sheltering
in his shadow. Severus did not allow his frown to form, but he was concerned.
Draco could not be allowed to spend the rest of his life hiding behind someone
else.

�� I want him
to convince his father to stop Buckbeak�s execution,�
Potter said.

�� And what
is it that you desire of Potter, Draco?� Severus let his voice become softer
when he looked at his favorite student. He knew the boy needed help at the
moment, not scolding, though Severus would have liked to take him aside
privately and question him as to what he hoped to gain.

�� Inspiration,�
Draco said flatly. �He�s fought monsters before. I need him to teach me how.�
His face became a little more child-like, a little more desperate, as he looked
at Severus. Severus had to approve. No matter how much the stoic, enduring look
might fit Potter, it did not work for Draco. �And I need your help too,
Professor. I don�t think I control my emotions very well, though my father�s
tried to teach me how. I need you to
show me. You�re a good actor. If I can�t fool Lucius�� He swallowed, a nervous
little bob of his throat. �I don�t want to think about what will happen.�

�� What will
he do to you for asking if you can�t fool him?� Potter asked.

�� Yes, do let him know, Draco, Severus
urged the boy silently as he turned to face Potter. Let him realize he is not the only one who faces danger, and that he is
asking you to take a great risk for small hope of reward.

�� For
starters,� Draco said flatly, �he�ll abuse other people. I�ve seen him do it
with the house-elves now. And I don�t want to see that anymore.� He closed his
eyes and shivered. �Then he�ll write me letters. I know that might not seem
like much,� he hurried on, though, so far as Severus could see, Potter�s face
was intent and listening, and he had made no move to interrupt. �But the
letters insult me and cut me apart. No one can hurt you like family.� His voice
was inexpressibly bitter.

�� Yes,�
Potter said quietly, �I know. I know that.�

�� Severus
glanced at him, eyes narrowing. He had not thought about his suspicions
concerning the Muggles in some time, but now, seeing the shadows carved like
axes into Potter�s face, he wondered if he should have.

�� And then
he�ll probably do his best to crush any ambition I have out of existence,�
Draco finished. �I don�t want that. I want to be free of him. I want to control
him for a change. I want to win.�

�� Only strict
self-control kept Severus from tipping his head back and laughing aloud.

�� Yes, Draco! That is the way. Let me ease you
out of the poisoned air that Lucius has you breathing. Let me see you use your
talent for Potions in new and unexpected ways, instead of putting it aside to
do the politics that you have no gift for. Let me see you free. And if I must
have Potter�s help to do that, it is a price I am willing to pay.

�� Very
well,� Severus said, making both boys startle and turn to him. He reckoned they
had almost forgotten his presence in their intense communion with one another.
�I will help you. But I require something from you in turn.�

�� Draco
nodded, as much to say, �Of course.� Potter tensed and drew himself up as if
Severus were a second basilisk he had to face.

�� I require you,� and Severus pointed a finger at
Draco, �to study my lessons as hard as you have ever studied Potions. And I
require you,� and when he pointed to
Potter, the boy scowled at him, defiant as ever, �to improve your marks in
Potions. You have made a beginning. Go further.�

�� With you
criticizing me all the time and Slytherins interrupting my potions?� Potter
demanded.

�� Yes,�
Severus said, locking eyes with the boy and not looking away, �with all that.�

�� Potter
puffed his cheeks out until Severus thought he might float off the ground with
all the air he was holding in. Then he nodded and said, �All right. Let�s get
started, then.�

*

�� Draco lay
in bed that night shivering over and over again.

�� He felt as
though he�d been caught in a white-water river and tumbled head over heels,
slamming into rocks as he went. He was still cold and shocked, dazzled and
awed.

�� His life
had the potential to change. He could be free, he could be powerful in his own
right, if he wanted to. He could be more
than just Lucius�s son, or the heir to the Malfoy fortune, which his father had
tried to teach him was enough.

�� He could be
a respected Potions brewer. He could be an inventor. He could be Professor
Snape�s prize student, which he had never known, until he saw the gentleness in
Snape�s eyes, that he was.

�� He could be
Harry Potter�s friend.

�� But in the
meantime, he had a price to pay.

�� He would be
a spy in the Malfoy household. No one had asked that of him, but of course he
had to do it. If Lucius came up with another plot to hurt Potter or Potter�s
friends like the diary, then Draco would have to tell him.

�� He would be
Harry Potter�s friend back, and that would be harder than simply accepting the
gifts he was offered passively.

�� He would be
the Dark Lord�s enemy.

�� Chills
swept up and down Draco�s body, but he took a deep breath and managed to remind
himself that most of the things he was afraid of were far in the future. He had
a smaller goal to deal with before then.

�� Carefully,
he began to go over all the advice about acting, facial expression, and tone of
voice that Professor Snape had given him for that evening.

*

�� Harry
couldn�t sleep.

�� It wasn�t
unusual, given his nightmares this summer and the way he needed to keep waking
up in the night and checking so that he could be sure the protective charms had
held and no one had tried to burn his Firebolt or the
map. But he had thought he would sleep better tonight, given the conversation
with Ron and Hermione where he�d apologized and all three of them, for once,
had talked about Quidditch.

�� He
couldn�t, though, so he sat up, lit his wand, made sure the bed-curtains were
drawn so his light wouldn�t disturb the other boys�though it was all Seamus
deserved�and looked idly at the map. Snape was still in his office, and Harry
snorted inwardly. Probably trying to
create some horrible poison to work on Lupin, this
time. It hadn�t escaped his notice that Lupin was
right about one thing: Snape hated him. Harry didn�t think he would ever find
out why, of course, because that was one of the things that no one bothered to
tell him.

�� Dumbledore
was still in the office, too. Harry watched his dot thoughtfully. He had a fit
of longing, sometimes, to go to the Headmaster and ask whether what Remus said was true, and his mother had really wanted to
give him to the Dursleys if Black couldn�t look after
him. Why? Didn�t his mother know what
Aunt Petunia was like? Or Harry wanted to ask about his parents and what they
had been like.

�� But
something had stopped him all along, and since Professor Lupin
had confirmed the truth Snape told him, Harry knew what it was. Dumbledore was
involved in putting him at the Dursleys. He knew
about the Potters� will. So he must have known about Sirius Black, too, and the
way he�d betrayed Harry�s family.

�� But he�d
never bothered to tell Harry. Harry couldn�t trust him, either, though he would
have liked to. Dumbledore was like the grandfather he never had.

�� Sometimes.

�� Harry
leaned back against the pillows and let his gaze wander at will across the map.
A surprising number of people were still awake: some Slytherins probably
plotting nasty things, Ravenclaws studying, and�

�� Harry
froze. Then he sat up rapidly, breath shaking his lungs, eyes fixed on a dot
just outside Gryffindor
Tower as he read the name
by it again and again.

�� Sirius Black.

�� He was
pacing outside the entrance to the common room.

�� And so many
emotions rushed and roared through Harry then: the anger at the betrayal of his
parents, the wonder when he thought that the Firebolt
might have been sent by Sirius Black, the painful longing that had sprung up
when Professor Lupin admitted Black would have been
his godfather and would have raised him if he hadn�t been insane.

�� And then he
remembered a fact.

�� The Dark Arts
spells Professor Snape had taught him.

�� Harry
didn�t hesitate, because he thought he would decide better if he did, and he
didn�t want to decide better.
Instead, he cast a spell Malfoy had shown him last year to muffle his
footsteps, and then he was racing down silently from the third-year boys�
bedroom, and towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.

*

�� Namaarie: Harry�s relationships with Sirius and Lupin are going to get better, but they�re not going to be
as close as they were in canon, in part because Harry has such a hard time
trusting people.

�� I don�t
really think I�ll do any adult/adult pairings other than the ones that are
canonical.

�� Lunatic
with a hero complex: Harry is becoming a bit calmer from the anger now, but
that might be seen as Snape�s influence.

�� Mangacat: Thank you!

�� natwest: Dumbledore doesn�t have many binds on Harry right
now, because he has no idea to what extent Snape is helping Harry.

�� MewMew2:
Thanks. For the moment, every third day is best, but it may not be soon, when I
go back to school.

�� DarklessVision: Thank you! I think I can promise you that
there�s plenty of food for angst in this story.

�� ladyedgecombe: I have to admit I�ve never understood that,
either, though I understood it better after we learned about Dumbledore�s past
in Book 7.

�� And yes,
Snape is going to train and teach Harry, but not coddle him.

�� Thrnbrooke: �Warm feelings? What are these warm feelings
you speak of, Muggle?�

�� Inugrl2004:
Harry would agree with you so hard.

�� Sneakyfox: Thank you! Snape continues doing that for a
while.

�� linagabriev: I think Snape definitely wouldn�t have been
insightful enough about Harry to go in search of him when the Chamber of Secrets
was discovered if he hadn�t become interested in him by the burning of his
possessions.

�� I think you
might like what happens with Dobby in the next chapter.

�� Harry is trying
to patch matters up with Draco now, and will probably continue to try.

��
- 6
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- 8
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Inter Vivos