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An Image of Lethe	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21751 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
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Chapter Nine--News of the Unhappy Kind
            By the time that he'd finished raising the ward that would afflict the Aurors with laughter and memory loss if they dared to invade again, Harry felt a lot calmer. He could lean limply back against the side of the house and watch the colors of the sunset stain the sky, and feel, for a moment, as if he was a normal wizard with a physically demanding job, just enjoying a well-earned rest after a long day.
            "Harry."
            Then another voice he hadn't heard in too long called his name, and reminded him of why he wasn't.
            Harry turned around warily. Hermione hadn't called him openly, the way she would if nothing was wrong. The voice had emerged from outside his wards, both sets, from a point of air that meant Hermione must be using the Disillusionment Charm.
            Harry stepped up to the wards and stretched out a hand as if inspecting the new lines of magic he had just laid down. Then he pushed his fingers past the line, and wriggled them. Someone could cross them if they took hold of his hand, and the older wards shouldn't stop Hermione, who had permission to be here from before.
            A fleeting shadow brushed his hand, then the unexpected grasp of fingers, almost shockingly strong when he couldn't see them coming. Harry turned and brought his arm back to his side as naturally as possible in case someone was watching, and then turned around and drew Hermione close into his arms.
            "Go into the house," he whispered into her ear. "The kitchen only. Keep the Charm on. Don't be surprised by anything you find there."
            Hermione drew in her breath sharply as if she wanted to object, but Harry had already propelled her on her way with a little push. He stood for a moment after that, still admiring the colors of the sunset. But his breath had gone shallow, and when he pushed his fringe back from his forehead, he felt the sweat.
            No normal life, ever again.
*
            Draco lifted his head when he heard the door open and shut. There was no distinctive sound of Potter, though. Despite sharing a house with him for such a short time, Draco had already noticed that there were ways Potter walked, as though he was almost stabbing his heels into the floor, that no one else did.
            That could only mean a stranger had entered the house.
            Draco gave a thin smile and stood up, his hand on his wand. Pansy and Astoria silenced at once, and Pansy drew her own wand while Astoria leaned back in the embrace of the chair, watching them both.
            If this was another Auror, Draco intended to use the spell that Aster had gifted them with. That way, he could know right away if the Aurors had any suspicion that Draco, or his friends, or any other Slytherins, were hiding with Potter. He would just have to make sure he could cast it nonverbally, which might take more than one try.
            Draco thought he had the time, though. An Auror who would stroll boldly through Potter's front door would probably stick around, instead of running at the first unusual sight or flicker of magic.
            Draco cast a minor Notice-Me-Not charm and came slowly down the stairs, edging sideways so that he would have even less chance of being seen. The soft footsteps still came from beneath him, not as bold as Draco had expected. Perhaps the Auror had enchanted Potter or sneaked past him, and that meant they would be more cautious than Draco had expected after all.
            When Draco's head came around the wall at the bottom of the stairs, he saw nothing at all, although he distinctly heard sounds in the kitchen--and from the angle he was standing at, he should have been able to see into it. For a second, he blinked, disconcerted, and wondering if the Auror had stolen Potter's Invisibility Cloak.
            Then he rolled his eyes at himself. Disillusionment Charm. Of course. He aimed his wand towards the sounds and breathed, "Finite."
            The charm rippled and vanished, and Granger stood there, head turning around sharply when she found that she was visible again. Draco hastily pulled his head back behind the wall, cursing to himself. Had Potter even thought about the trouble Granger could cause if she found Slytherins hiding with him?
            Of course not. Probably not. He probably told her to just come in. Or she did it on her own, because she thinks that Potter's bloody house should also be hers--
            Draco caught himself up quickly. If Granger was under a Disillusionment Charm, that suggested she was trying to avoid someone, at the least. And Potter hadn't seemed, right before he went outside to cast the wards, as though he was in a hostile mood towards Draco and the others. He must have thought about it, maybe even warned Granger.
            "Don't panic if something strange happens to me, right," Granger muttered to herself just then. A second later, Draco heard her making tea.
            Draco relaxed muscle by muscle. So Potter had warned Granger, in a way, but without giving their secret away. It was still their choice if they wanted to meet Granger face-to-face.
            It was the best compromise Potter could have managed under the circumstances, clearly. If this went on, Draco would have to think that Potter was capable of subtlety and nuance, after all.
            I'm not sure I want to do that, Draco admitted, with a slight grimace to himself, and went back up to Pansy and Astoria. They hadn't got much of a chance to talk today, and he would rather do that than socialize with Granger, at least until he knew what her reaction would be.
*
            Harry stepped back into the kitchen, and blinked to find Hermione visible. She shook her head at him, small curls of frizzy hair escaping to hang around her mouth, and tucked it back. "Not my doing. Someone upstairs took off the charm."
            Malfoy. Of course. Harry sat down in his usual chair. "One of my guests," he said, and although Hermione nodded, her eyes bright with curiosity, she didn't push it. "What is it?"
            For a moment, Hermione's hands clenched around the spoon she was using to stir her tea. Then she looked at him and said, "They put Bill through the Lightfinder."
            Harry hissed a little despite himself. "Well, at least I'm awake now, the way you wanted me to be," he muttered. He hoped the news of Bill would have been enough to wake him up if Malfoy hadn't, but he honestly wasn't sure. "I trust they found him Dark?"
            Hermione tried to swallow, but her words were locked behind what sounded like a large and solid lump. She shook her head, took a swallow of tea that Harry knew had to be scalding, and continued, "Indigo. They've confined him."
            Harry closed one hand into a fist fast enough that his nails made a ringing scrape on the table. "And what excuse did they give?"
            "Because--because of his heritage and his record, they think he was Light and only tainted by Fenrir Greyback's touch." Hermione peered at him around one strand of hair. "They--think they can cure him with Wolfsdemon."
            "With what?"
            "You need to read the papers more," Hermione snapped at him, a conclusion Harry had already come to. At least she sounded angry and in control again, and that was a Hermione he found easier to deal with. Hermione leaned forwards and rapped one finger on the table. "Wolfsdemon is this new potion that some people are promoting because they say it kills the infection right out of someone. It kills the wolf and leaves the person alive."
            Harry stared at her in silent horror.
            "I know," said Hermione, and seized her cup to swallow again. "I think it's terrible. But there are werewolves who support it because they hope it's an actual cure, and supposedly the initial tests are promising, and--and people are afraid." She set the teacup down and stared at Harry bleakly. "I thought things were getting better after the war. How did people become this afraid?"
            "Maybe the fear is the opposite side of the hope. They thought they were going to have an easy way to identify Dark wizards, and that made them go mental when they realized how many Dark wizards were walking around." Harry reached out and caught Hermione's hand, holding it still when he thought it would twitch. "What made them test Bill?"
            "They heard him saying something to someone else," said Hermione tiredly, blinking. Harry cast a Warming Charm on her tea without being asked, and Hermione picked up her cup and started drinking again with her free hand. "That's what Fleur said when I asked. He was complaining about the way you were being treated, I think." She looked up with a grim smile. "And who could have sympathy for a Dark wizard except another Dark wizard?"
            "Then--Hermione, you shouldn't have come here." Harry gripped Hermione's hand even more firmly. "They could decide you were Dark and imprison you in the same way--"
            "No." Hermione said it so firmly that for a second Harry thought she meant she'd gone through the Lightfinder and tested red or orange. But then she leaned towards him and said in a fierce undertone, "This has gone far enough. That's what I was trying to tell you last time. You have to do something about it, Harry. Something. You can use your name and influence in a way that lots of people can't. I know you can. I want you to do something that will stop this."
            Harry blinked and spoke the truth before he could stop it. "You want me to save the world."
            Hermione closed her eyes, and a tide of color crept into her cheeks. "Not alone," she said stiffly, keeping her head turned away. "Not the way you did with Voldemort. I'm sorry--I wasn't thinking..."
            Harry sighed and squeezed her hand in a soft, regular pattern until she opened her eyes again. "Neither was I," he said. "You meant that you think I need to join the fight to stand up against the Lightfinder, and other people are more likely to follow me than someone else."
            Hermione nodded fervently, her hair sticking to her forehead. "Exactly. And I think you need to do the same thing for you, because the way they're treating you is outrageous."
            Harry nodded back. "I know. They had Aurors invade my house earlier today while I was with Splinter being tested for Lethe."
            Hermione's mouth opened, her lips parting in silent outrage. Of course, since she was Hermione, her outrage wasn't silent for long. "What? How could they do that? Why were they here?"
            "I think they thought I'm being rebellious already, and they were looking for Dark magical books or anything else that could cause this behavior." Harry changed the subject back to what he thought was more urgent. "Where do they have Bill?"
            "In Azkaban."
            Harry sat up with a startled sound, and Hermione caught his hand in turn. "They said it was the only kind of cell that someone with a werewolf's strength couldn't break out of," she said. "I hate it, too, Harry, but you can't tell me that you mean to charge the guards or something. That would only get you a cell beside him."
            Harry forced himself to nod and sit back down. He had to think of how he was going to do this, as someone already under scrutiny and someone who might be trying to start a rebellion that had to be kept secret fairly soon.
            But they wanted to spread the word at the same time. And Harry thought that being able to point to someone who had always been considered part of a "Light" pure-blood family as a victim of the Ministry's prejudice would be more effective than immediately trying to point at Slytherins.
            "All right," said Harry. "There's someone I need to talk to, because they might have a more concrete plan to help Bill. But I don't know if you want to come with me when I talk to them. Or if they want you there," he had to add, in complete honesty. Malfoy might refuse to work with Hermione on general principles.
            If he did it because of her Muggleborn background, then Harry would refuse to work with him on general principles. But so many things had changed now, this might also have done so.
            Harry was sure Malfoy had been the one who'd dissipated Hermione's Disillusionment Charm when she came into the kitchen. But he hadn't attacked her. Harry would take that as a favorable sign for the present.
            Hermione cocked her head back and narrowed her eyes. "Harry, who are you hiding?"
            "Several people," said Harry, and had to grin a little at her look of shock. She probably thought he wouldn't begin his rebellion until she brought him word of Bill's imprisonment. "But like I said, I have to decide whether they'll want to talk to you."
            "Why would they refuse?" Hermione turned and stared at the stairs. "Or why would I?" She glanced back at Harry, her eyes narrowed. "That's the more relevant question, isn't it?"
            "Because they're Dark wizards," Harry said quietly. "Not proved as such by the Lightfinder. Sure of their affiliation, though. One's wanted. One's been tried, but is still wanted." He met and held Hermione's gaze.
            Hermione made what looked like a conscious effort to relax. "Well, you're a Dark wizard, too," she muttered, as if convincing herself. "I hope--Harry, is it going to be all right?"
            Harry supposed that people must have some kind of instinctive need to turn to him in a crisis. But it was at least more understandable with Hermione than with someone who didn't know him from Dumbledore. He bent down and kissed her forehead. "I'm going to make it as all right as it can be. And we stand a better chance working together with other people."
            Hermione looked at him with troubled eyes. "As long as they're not Death Eaters, or--or people who did something really wrong in the war."
            Harry turned around to hide his grimace. Based on that criterion, Astoria might be the only one she was comfortable working with. "Well, let me go and talk to them," he said, and took the stairs before she could ask him anything else.
*
            Draco leaned back as Potter came into the room. "I would be willing to work with Granger if I can trust that she won't betray us, or make converting us more important than fighting the Ministry," he said.
            Potter blinked only once, and then seemed to accept both what Draco knew and what he was saying, to Draco's private relief. He sat down across from Draco. "My friend Bill Weasley is in prison," he said. "Someone overheard him saying something supportive of me, and he tested indigo in the Lightfinder."
            Draco blinked, a little surprised at that. He honestly would have thought that most Weasleys would have a Light affinity.
            But you didn't choose your affinity, and Draco couldn't afford to neglect any potential allies in this conflict. The only thing he wanted to be absolutely sure of was that they wouldn't betray him because he had been acknowledged as Dark for longer than they had. "I assume that his werewolf scars don't help, either," Draco murmured.
            Potter leaned in. "The werewolf scars that you gave him, Malfoy."
            Draco held his gaze, and nodded. "And I'll apologize for that to him. Not to you."
            Pansy touched Draco's shoulder in the second before Potter decided to accept that. "Fine," he said. "But for now, we need to figure out some strategy to get him out of there as soon as we can."
            "And in the long run, that depends on finding allies and strengthening your position as someone who's an innocent victim of Ministry prejudice," Draco pointed out. He wanted to hammer Potter with that idea, to keep it in front of his eyes as much as necessary. Charging to the daring rescue wasn't the point. Finding a way to make sure that the Ministry was ultimately defeated was the point. "They aren't going to kill him. Being in Azkaban is no treat, but they would have done something else if they were going to kill him."
            "Being there is a sentence no one deserves."
            Draco looked at him in silence, forcing him to remember that a lot of Death Eaters had been sentenced there.
            Potter flushed and looked away. "You can't argue that Bill deserves it, anyway."
            Because talking about their past was a waste of time, given the circular arguments it produced, Draco accepted that with a nod. "I don't think that that particular Weasley has done anything worthy of being sent to prison in the first place. The problem is that you need to raise a protest that will not just get him out of prison, but prevent it from happening again, or happening to anyone else."
            Potter looked as though he was swallowing a particularly bitter potion. "I know you're right. It's just hard to think about it."
            "I say that you should bring Granger up and introduce us," Pansy cut in. Draco leaned back into her briefly. She was the practical one, the one who saw past considerations that tended to preoccupy Draco to the basic and fundamental truths. "As long as you think it's safe for me to talk to her."
            Potter peered at her in incomprehension for a second, but his face cleared before Draco could start fearing for his sanity. "Oh. Right. Yes." He hesitated, and looked at Draco. "Can an Unbreakable Vow be modified?"
            Draco blinked once. "It can usually only be fulfilled."
            "Then that's another thing we need to research," said Potter. "The Vow I had Parkinson make was a bit too broad." He turned back to Pansy. "You can leave the room if you want. I'll tell Hermione that you're here, but also what restrictions you're under."
            Pansy nodded and slipped away. Draco concealed a smile. Pansy had considered Granger more unbending and self-righteous than Potter in Hogwarts, therefore more irritating. She might be glad that she wasn't accidentally going to ruin their plans, but she would also be more than happy to put off a meeting with Granger for a while.
            "Fine," Draco said, leaning back. "Bring the dreaded Muggleborn upstairs."
*
            Harry was right behind Hermione, and he could feel the shudder of disgust that rang through her body when she stepped into the room and saw Malfoy waiting for her. But she straightened her spine, and her glance at Astoria was only considering. Maybe she didn't recognize her, but at least she didn't have the same past memories attached that she did to Malfoy. Hermione swallowed. "Malfoy," she said.
            "Granger." Give Malfoy credit, his tone was at least neutral and business-like, Harry thought. He turned his head to Harry, and blinked once. "Does she agree that we should wait to stage a raid on Azkaban?"
            "She does." Harry made his voice dry. Perhaps Hermione and the Slytherins could find a common ground in their attempts to combat his impulsiveness. "Though I would like to still hear about a way we could help Bill."
            "We need more allies." Hermione walked across the room and sat down across from Malfoy, in Harry's abandoned chair, with only a twitch of her shoulders to indicate her discomfort. "Four of us aren't going to be enough."
            "No," Malfoy concurred, though Harry saw the spark in his eyes that must mark the moment when he considered reminding her about Parkinson, who Harry had mentioned on their way up the stairs, and then discarded the impulse. "The main problem is knowing who to trust. I have a few friends and allies, but they'll be closely watched by the Aurors as well. And I have no idea who among the Light wizards is trustworthy."
            "I know one person I'm sure won't betray us," said Hermione. "Neville Longbottom."
            Malfoy made a swift gesture with one hand, but then cut it off. Harry thought he'd probably remembered the old Neville for a moment, the shy, clumsy Potions-whatever-the-opposite-of-a-genius-was, and then remembered the one who had cut off Nagini's head instead. "Does he really have the political clout to help us, though?"
            "Right now, we need trustworthy allies more than we need politically influential ones," Hermione snapped, and her chin jutted out, leading the way as it usually did when she argued with Malfoy. "He's one."
            "And he is a war hero, if not one as instantly recognizable as I am," Harry added, hoping to calm things down. "He might even be more popular right now, since the news about me being tainted has come out."
            "Dark."
            Harry blinked at Malfoy. "What? You think Neville is Dark? Or what I just did is a Dark action?" Despite all his commitments to a truce with Malfoy, sometimes Harry felt as if they stood on opposite sides of a gap of incomprehension.
            "You're Dark. Not tainted." Malfoy's fingernails scraped the table as he stared at Harry. "Not that word. I don't want to hear you say it again."
            "Well, really," Hermione said, and even Astoria looked a little surprised. But Harry, who couldn't take his gaze from Malfoy, thought he understood.
            Malfoy couldn't tolerate certain attitudes from Harry, because he had to have a hundred percent confidence in him. It was the way Harry couldn't have worked with Malfoy if he was still flinging the word "Mudblood" around. Too many flaws in their trust would make them doubt the whole idea of the alliance, and it would fall apart without at least the fragile trust they'd put together before Harry went out to do the wards.
            Malfoy wanted Harry to claim his affinity. Fine. He could do that. He had already done it the minute he let the Slytherins into his house, anyway.
            "Dark," he replied, and watched a tide of relaxation wash over Malfoy. He leaned back, and his smile sharpened.
            "I think Longbottom might be just the ally we need," he said. "Especially if he can get together with Blaise, who already took a huge risk to help us."
            And the moment passed, and soon Malfoy and Hermione were plotting, and arguing, as if they had worked together before. Harry stayed out of it, much like Astoria, unless someone asked his opinion. His gaze didn't often stray from Malfoy.
            The man was more interesting than Harry had expected.
*
            SP777: Well, it's been cast! Now we just have to wait for the Aurors to invade the house again.
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An Image of Lethe