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Practicing Liars	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 63257 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

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

Chapter Seven�Spying
Missions Successful and Unsuccessful

�� Expelliarmus!�

�� Harry spun
around in surprise. He�d been talking to Ginny and hadn�t watched what was
happening next to him. And sure, maybe he�d been holding onto his wand a little
more loosely than usual, but if he couldn�t relax in the middle of Dumbledore�s
Army with all his friends around him, where could
he do it?

�� His wand
flew away from him and into the middle of Edgar Buttons�s hand. Buttons looked as
shocked as anyone else that it had worked, but after a minute, he started
grinning. He marched up to hand the wand back to Harry, his grin growing
larger.

�� I tried,�
he said happily. �I didn�t think it would work, but I tried, just to see what
would happen, and it worked!�

�� Harry could
feel the eyes of the watchers fixed on him, wondering what would happen next.
Ron was leaning forwards with a frown, as if he thought Harry should punish
Buttons for doing something like that. Hermione had her hand to her mouth,
covering up her smile. Ginny blinked a few times and then grinned back at
Buttons.

�� They would
take their cue from him, Harry knew. He cleared his throat and nodded to
Buttons. �Good for you,� he said. �And thanks for the reminder that I should
really strap my wand to my wrist!� He took it back.

�� A few
people laughed. Buttons bowed to him, the full formal duelist�s bow that Harry
had been trying to teach them for a while. Hermione was one of the people
laughing, but Harry bowed back to Buttons and did his best to smile.

*

�� Severus
drew in a soft, vast, irritated breath. How was Potter to become a competent duelist
if he let a younger student steal his wand without a fight?

�� Severus
stood under a Disillusionment Charm in the corner of the room nearest the door.
It had been easy to slip in behind the younger students, who, Potter�s teaching
of constant vigilance or not, did not pay nearly enough attention to what was
going on around them. Severus found it harder to forgive the older students,
such as Potter himself, their lapse of concern.

�� He had
watched many of the students spar, sneering to see that they made more of an
effort here than they did in Defense, but also making note of their strengths. His
new class stood in danger of becoming far more boring to teach than Potions.
Potions required a certain level of awareness even when it was going well, because
many recipes could change quickly and disastrously with the addition of a
single wrong ingredient (and expecting his students to add only the right ingredients was like expecting Albus
to stop offering people lemon drops). If Severus knew more about the way these
students evidently liked to learn and what they were good at, then he could try
to provoke the same responses from them in class.

�� But his
eyes returned again and again to Potter, who was, after all, Severus�s main
reason for attending these training sessions in the first place. He watched the
way he interacted with others, the spells he chose to teach, the encouragement he
offered, and the spells he cast. The more he watched, the more his disgust
deepened. Potter could be doing better than he was on every level�not simply in the speed with which he hurled his magic,
but in the force and finesse that he put behind it. It was evident that Potter�s
holding back had caused Severus to mistake his strength, as well.

�� But he
could not help watching with wonder, too.

�� This little
�army� had been good for more than simply teaching Potter how to teach. They
had taught Potter speed and skill and fighting in company. Severus had
recognized the tactics Potter used in the last duel against him in class, once
he had time to watch a Pensieve memory of the fight and isolate the individual
movements from one another. Potter fought as though several people were
confronting him at once, a situation Severus had watched him training with in
Dumbledore�s Army several times now.

�� That was the source of his brilliance.
Potter was training to take on multiple opponents without even thinking about
it. Naturally, he appeared overwhelming and a genius against a single one.

�� Some of it
was likely natural talent, as well; in the same way that the boy had inherited
the ability to maneuver skillfully on a broom from his bloody father despite no
prior training, he appeared to have inherited the ability to dodge and roll out
of the way, and thus buy himself the time for his slower mind to put spells
together and decide on the next defense. It was a talent of the body, not
intelligence. But Severus thought most of it was due to that unconscious
training.

�� And that
meant that he needed to encourage Potter to make it more conscious. Doubtless Potter would slow down a bit at first; he
would have to think more, and that would interfere with the blinding speed with
which he could layer spells and evasive movements together. But Severus had
watched Potions students progress through unconscious, unschooled raw talent to
conscious and somewhat floundering skill to conscious and polished mastery, and
he was confident that Potter could take the same route.

�� Now. I am confident now.

�� Observing
the boy without Potter�s knowing he was there had changed Severus�s perception
in astounding ways. When the brat was not insulting him, he had no temptation to
think of insults that he could hurl in return. When Potter was not determined to
show Severus up, Severus could think more rationally about what he had done and planned to do.

�� He did not like
the thought, because it suggested some uncomfortable truths about the
limitations of his own perceptions down the years, but he would rather face an
uncomfortable truth than deny it.

�� At least, once it has come to my attention.

�� His gaze
went back to Potter, and he frowned. Potter had moved away from Buttons the
wand-stealer and was standing still in the center of the room, his eyes
fastened on the far wall. His breathing had become very fast, though Severus thought
he was the only one who had noticed in the center of that room full of shouts
and the loud crack of misfired
spells. His wand rose once, then fell down to his side and hung there,
wavering.

�� Severus followed
the motion. There was nothing there. He whispered a small spell that would
allow him to detect the Dark Arts, in case someone outside the room was
attempting to use them and Potter had felt it. Nothing.

�� Potter shut
his eyes and shivered. Then he pressed one hand to his scar and turned abruptly
away from the wall as someone from a second group called his name.

�� Severus narrowed
his eyes, knowing he must contrive a new meeting with Potter sometime in the
next few days if the boy did not come to him.

*

�� Harry
looked at the faces of the people opposite him, and tried not to think of the
white Dementors he had clearly seen
gliding across the room.

�� Behind me now.

�� His shoulders
seized up as he thought of them sweeping through the room, seizing and eating
people�s souls, and how few students here would be able to stop them because not
many people could actually produce a Patronus Charm�

�� Then Harry
released a shaky breath and stepped back a few paces so he could hold a Shield
Charm against the Blasting Curse that Sita Landers, a fifth-year Ravenclaw, was
going to try and cast.

�� I�m here. I held off a hundred Dementors
with my Patronus once. I can do it again if they�re really here and if they
start hurting people.

�� This time,
though, the white Dementors had seemed more ghostly; Harry had seen them dip in
and out of the walls. He had done his best to remember Dumbledore�s suspicion
that he was seeing something through his connection with Voldemort, and even
though his scar hadn�t burned when he touched it, he didn�t see what else it
could be, since no one else was reacting the way they would have to a ghost.

�� Turning his
back on them was the hardest thing he�d ever done, but he managed to do it, and
then he could even act and talk to people like he was normal. He wondered if he
would have been able to do that if more people saw the white Dementors or if
someone had asked him about them, but since they didn�t�

�� Reducto!�

�� Harry
barely snapped himself out of his trance in time to lift the Shield Charm. More
than one person gasped or cheered as the Blasting Curse snapped back across the
room, and some of them ducked. Harry smiled and glanced over his shoulder once.
The white Dementors were gone.

�� And his
scar still hadn�t burned.

�� Harry
swallowed. Maybe it was time to think about those Occlumency lessons that
Dumbledore had recommended.

*

�� Draco shut
his burning eyes and rubbed hard at them. No matter how long he spent on the
various Dark Arts books that he had wrangled from other Slytherins, or the one
he had got from Professor Snape, or the ones he had located in the library that
talked about Dark Arts in a theoretical way, no solution offered itself.

�� The problem
was the bloody Vanishing Cabinet. It just ate magic that Draco sent at it the
way it seemed to eat people. It had rents and cracks and holes that ought to
have been simple enough to repair, but instead the rents and cracks gobbled
down his spells and then sat there silently laughing at him.

�� Cabinets can�t laugh, Draco. His mother
would have said that in her cool, soothing voice if she was here, Draco
thought, rubbing harder at his eyes. It
is time to go to bed when you begin thinking that they do.

�� Mr.
Malfoy.�

�� Draco
yelped and flopped back in his chair, then scrambled to cover up the title of
the book he was reading. No, it wasn�t a very
evil book, and he hadn�t got it from the Restricted Section, but if someone
saw it and then started putting the pieces together�if someone had followed him
when he went to the Room of Hidden Things�

�� The cold
silence next to the table told him who it must be before he looked up. But he
did look up, and tried to meet Professor Snape�s gaze with some semblance of
composure. If someone had to catch him, he would rather it be Snape, because the
professor had given him that Dark Arts book in the first place and that gave
Draco a tiny bit of power over him. �Sir,� he said, gracefully inclining his
head.

�� What are
you doing?� Professor Snape�s eyes flicked from the book to his face, as if he
could see the contents printed on Draco�s cheeks. Draco had to stop himself
from reaching up to make sure that that hadn�t happened. He�d come close to
falling asleep on the book a few times, though not tonight.

�� Studying,
sir.� It didn�t take much effort for Draco to add a sneer to his voice. �No
matter how I study, Professor Slughorn still plays favorites and gives Potter
higher marks than I get, even though
I�m the better natural talent!� It was the kind of thing that Professor Snape
would expect to hear him complaining about, so it was the strongest lie.

�� The
professor sat down in the chair across from him. Draco kept himself from
gaping, but it was hard. He looked down at his book and tried to pretend that
he didn�t feel that burning stare from less than two feet away.

�� Draco.�
The professor�s voice was heavy, soft, and slow, and he traced the grain of the
wood in the table with one finger, as though he was finding a new Potions
recipe by following it. �I want you to consider, carefully, where you should spend your effort. Some things are
worth the striving, and other things are not.� He leaned back in his chair and
gave Draco the kind of cool, open stare that Draco remembered from long nights
of brewing potions for extra practice in his private office.

�� Draco
tugged at his collar. He felt as though his robes were stuck to him, and
realized a moment later that he was sweating like a Muggle. He hoped Professor
Snape hadn�t noticed it, and then got rid of that hope. Of course Professor Snape had noticed it. He noticed everything like
that, and there wasn�t much that Draco could do about it.

�� A-are you
saying that I shouldn�t spend as much time trying to pull up my Potions marks,
sir?� His voice came out smaller and shakier than he would have liked. Draco
looked down at the table and told himself that was only because it was so
unexpected for Professor Snape not to care about Potions, but he knew better.

�� Did I say
anything about marks? No. Only about effort.� Professor Snape�s voice had
become even heavier. �I depended on you for years to see where your true interest lies, Draco, and thus what
efforts you should engage in to promote yourself. You cannot do everything. What
would you choose, did you have to? What would bring you the most satisfaction,
the most fulfillment of your ambitions, the most praise and adulation in after
life?�

�� Draco
stared up at him. He wanted to spill out the whole story, given the way that
Professor Snape looked back at him. He wanted to cry, given the burning of his
eyes�though he hastily told himself that that wasn�t really true, it was just the way things felt, with everything so
overwhelming right now.

�� He couldn�t
remember the last time someone had told him to consider what he wanted, instead
of implying that he had to do everything because of loyalty to the Dark Lord or
loyalty to his parents.

�� Where does my own interest lie?

�� But then he
remembered why he couldn�t exactly listen to Professor Snape�s advice on this.
He had to repair the Vanishing
Cabinet and serve the Dark Lord to save the lives of his parents. Professor Snape
wouldn�t really understand that because he didn�t have a family. He couldn�t
understand how important that was to someone who was raised to think of himself
as a Malfoy first and his own good only second, if at all.

�� Professor Snape
raised an eyebrow and walked away before he could reply. Draco swallowed again
and pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. That was an acceptable
gesture. Someone who saw him would just think that he was tired from studying.

�� It�s hard, I don�t want to do it, but I have
to go ahead. Because it�s my family, and no one else is ever going to help me.
Or us.

*

�� Harry took
several deep breaths. He could do this. He had to do this. He didn�t need to
feel as though someone was going to eat his skull off if he did it.

�� But for all
that, he stood there, frozen, for ticking second after ticking second, until he
finally forced himself to reach up and knock firmly on the door to Professor
Snape�s office.

�� It opened
at once. Snape stood behind it, staring down at him with dark eyes that made
Harry want to look away. But he took another deep breath and met them and said
as politely as he could, �I was thinking that maybe I could train with you. If
you still want to train with me. And Occlumency lessons, like Dumbledore asked.�
He paused, thinking that something was missing, and saw the way that Snape�s
mouth was a little tight, like Uncle Vernon�s before he would start yelling,
and realized what was missing. He added quickly, �Sir.�

�� Snape stood
there staring at him for so long that Harry was sure he was going to say no. He
nodded and started to turn away, telling himself that he would just have to
find a way to deal with the white Dementors on his own. Maybe they weren�t even
real, and if he could remember that and just ignore them when they tried to
appear, then maybe he could�

�� I did not
dismiss you, Mr. Potter.�

�� Harry
stopped with a hiss. He hated when
Snape did that. Here Harry was trying to do something good, something that
Snape seemed to want him to do sometimes, and he was making a big stupid thing out of it. He turned his
head around and scowled at Snape, not caring if it would get points taken off.

�� Snape continued
watching him, and then asked, �Are you doing this because you wish to please
the Headmaster, or are you doing this with the intention of becoming skilled in
Occlumency and the other skills I can teach you?�

�� Harry
blinked and turned to face him again. Snape had sounded almost�nice when he
said that. Or, well, not as much like a bastard as he generally did, anyway.

�� I�m doing
it because he suggested it,� Harry said. �And because I think that Voldemort��
Snape winced, but Harry just went on talking before he could say something
about calling him the Dark Lord instead ��is sending me visions through my
scar. I saw the white Dementors again today. I don�t know why he wants me to see them, but that�s the only thing I can figure
out. And I want them to stop, and I want to get better at all those skills so
that I can keep people safe.�

�� Snape
lowered his eyelids across half his eyes. Harry scowled at him. He didn�t know
what that meant, but he hated it when Snape did it. And he seemed to do it all
the time, so it probably meant something important. But Harry had never been
that good at reading people�s faces.

�� Finally
Snape said, quietly, as if he was talking to someone else and Harry just
happened to be listening in, �Have you considered bettering your skills so that
you can become a better fighter, not simply a better fighter against the Dark
Lord?�

�� Well�yeah,�
Harry said, uncertain where Snape was going with this. �Of course, sir. I want
to be an Auror eventually.� But I won�t
if you don�t let me pass Defense, he thought, but swallowed the words. He
didn�t want to start an argument about that with Snape right now. He did wonder what Snape would say if he
knew that Harry was doing better in Potions because of the Half-Blood Prince�s
book, and not because he had some kind of natural talent for it. �Is that what
you�re talking about?�

�� Not quite,�
breathed Snape. �What would you do if you became an Auror, Mister Potter?�

�� Harry
narrowed his eyes. What is this? He has
to want to know this because he�s going to use it against me somehow, but he�s
asking questions that are so weird that I don�t understand how he�s going to
use them.

�� Snape was
starting to look impatient, so Harry rushed into his answer. �Protect people,
and chase Dark wizards,� he said. He was trying to think of other things Aurors
did, because talking too much about the ones he knew personally would reveal
information about the Order of the Phoenix, and there were probably Slytherins
hiding in the dungeons and trying to listen for that. See, Sirius? I am trying to do better so that other people don�t die. I
promise. �And work for the Ministry,� he added. �And train.� Snape�s face
steadily darkened, and Harry said in some desperation, �What do you want, sir?�

�� I want you
to consider how your skills could matter to you,� Snape said, his voice
guttural, but not, Harry thought, with anger. �How they could serve to advance
your goals and make you a better wizard.�

�� Harry
wanted to sneer. All Slytherins think
about is ambition, all the time. But it probably wouldn�t be smart to say
that to someone he was hoping would teach him. He nodded slowly instead and
pretended to have a lot of deep thoughts about it, the way he�d sometimes pretended
to listen to the Dursleys when they lectured him about manners. �Yeah, sir. I
haven�t thought about that, but that could happen.�

�� Snape gave
him a thin smile. �Then I agree to teach you, Mister Potter, as long as you
conduct yourself as a model of respectability, responsibility, and studious zeal
by arriving on time, attending to my instructions, and completing the extra
homework that I give you. Our sessions will be twice weekly at first, once on
Tuesday evenings for Occlumency and once on Thursday evenings for Defense.�

�� Harry
wanted to groan. Extra homework?? But
Snape was just waiting for something like that, so he nodded and said, �I
understand, sir. Thank you,� and then turned and hurried away up the corridor.

�� He had the
feeling that Snape was standing there and watching him go, but he didn�t want
to glance over his shoulder and see. He had more important things to do, like
starting his first spying mission on Malfoy.

*

�� Draco
thought of something that would cheer him up before he began work on the
Vanishing Cabinet that evening. Dumbledore had tried to cast a spell on his
food at dinner that evening, and the spell had failed. That meant the rumors
his Aunt Bellatrix had hinted at were true: the old barmy fool was losing his
magic, and so their Lord�s triumph couldn�t be far away.

�� With a
smile on his face, Draco lifted his wand and tried the first of the spells he
had learned from his latest theoretical book in the library. It was a spell
that was supposed to make an inanimate object �remember� what it was like when
it was whole, and so bring it back to that state.

�� Tene memoriam!�

�� Tiny white
starbursts took their places on the outside of the Cabinet. Draco held his
breath. That was what the book had said was supposed to happen! The spell was
going to work!

�� Then the
starbursts faded, and Draco was left staring at a Vanishing Cabinet that looked
exactly the same as before. He wanted to howl in frustration, but he settled
for kicking a stupid diadem that lay near his feet instead. It sailed into the
rubbish, and Draco turned back to the Cabinet and prepared to try the second
spell he�d picked up, though with less hope.

�� Then he
cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. There was a rustling sound behind him�a sound
that made him think�

�� Without
giving himself time to really think
about it, he whirled around and leaped on the rustling noise. It meant that he
sprawled painfully across several stacks of books and broken furniture, but it
was worth it, because his hands closed on something silky that suddenly became
visible and a startled, squeaking person who tried to jab a wand into his
throat.

�� Draco batted
the hand and the wand away, because his was already drawn, and jammed his wand
into the other person�s throat instead. The person tried to hide his face
underneath the cloth that Draco could clearly see was an Invisibility Cloak,
but Draco twitched it aside and found himself staring into�

�� Potter�s
eyes.

�� Draco
reacted without thinking again. He dug his wand in further and whispered in a
tone he hoped was dangerous, �You have two seconds to tell me what you�re doing
here, Potter, and if I don�t like it, you�re going to end up as Dark toast.�

�� Potter�s
eyes widened, and Draco felt a surge of vicious triumph. He was in control for
the first time since he�d stepped on Potter�s nose in the Hogwarts Express.

�� I�m
waiting,� he whispered, and shoved the wand in until he thought he could almost
feel Potter�s windpipe crumple beneath it.

�� He won�t get away with this. I won�t let
him.

�� Dizzy with
joy, Draco wondered what the Dark Lord would give him if he was the one to destroy the Boy-Who-Lived. His parents might be
safe after all.

*

�� paigeey07: For
what?

�� k lave
demo: That is definitely a risk Snape will run. It also helps that Harry seems
to be admitting some of the things that Snape wants to hear on his own.

�� js: Well,
good! He�s meant to be cranky and irritating but not hateful for all time.

�� MewMew2: I�m
sure Snape would be distressed at how indirect it was if he knew!

�� tiggator:
Thanks so much!

�� Sneakyfox:
Thanks!

�� Mia: Thank
you! It helps that I do find plot exciting, and also, in many cases, easier and
more fun to write than sex scenes.

�� SP777:
Thanks! I avoided writing Snape for a long time since I assumed I wouldn�t do
it right, but this is proving more fun than I expected.

�� Harry did
manage to hide those memories from Snape last year, but he doesn�t actually
realize he did it, or how he did it.

�� callistianstar:
Harry thinks very little of Snape in much the same way Snape thinks very little
of Harry. He doesn�t think Snape is smart enough to come up with a trick like
that, even if he noticed.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Thanks!

�� nakatanizell:
Thanks!

�� I�m glad
that you don�t think Harry�s reluctance is unjustified. I know I would have a
lot of trouble relating to a parent who had openly taunted me in public for
five years.

�� Dark Lady
Snape: Harry will never willingly do that. It will take another circumstance to
bring that truth to light, and it should happen about halfway through the
story.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Practicing Liars