Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2007-08-08 20:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | hp fic better than revenge, hp fic draco/harry |
HP fic: Better Than Revenge, ch. 8: In Bristol [Harry/Draco, general]
Title: Better Than Revenge
chapter 8, "In Bristol"
Author: celandineb
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: general
Summary: Draco learns to conjure his Patronus, and tells Harry a little bit of his feelings.
Draco knew of a place that would be ideal for practicing hexes with Harry, a field and wood in Cornwall where he had hunted for fairies as a child. Harry was skilled at such spells, but Draco was not a bad match, managing to catch Harry unawares with a Jelly-Legs Jinx halfway through the morning. They had agreed to cast only spells that at least one of them knew a counterspell for. Draco was torn between pleasure that Harry would trust him so far, and a hint of scorn that he would make himself so vulnerable. Trust could lead to disastrous consequences if one judged wrongly.
When they stopped for lunch, Draco told Harry a little bit about his great-aunt Tisiphone who had lived nearby in Bishops Foxley. In return Harry talked about his Muggle family, especially about his cousin who sounded like the worst sort of Muggle, thinking himself superior with no justification at all. Draco found a horrifying fascination in the idea that Harry had grown up completely unaware of his wizarding heritage. Even if his mother had been a Mudblood, the Potter family was no upstart, and it really was a crime that Harry had been raised in such ignorance. Perhaps that had been part of the reason why Harry had been in Godric's Hollow, Draco thought.
Harry suggested that they practice deflecting and defensive charms in the afternoon as a change of pace. Draco agreed, but asked if they could work on Expecto Patronum sometime too, admitting hesitantly that he had never yet been fully successful in casting it.
To Draco's relief Harry did not seem to think his inability unusual or shameful, saying matter-of-factly, "Sure, we can do it tomorrow if you like. There's bound to be someplace private enough up near where we're going."
Draco was able to get past Harry's Shield Charms several times that afternoon, first with a simple Horn Tongue Charm, then with an Engorgio that made Harry's feet bigger than those of a legendary Hobbit, and finally with a Stinging Hex, which rather surprised him. Of course Harry gave as good as he got – Draco would have been disappointed otherwise – once with a jinx that made Draco's nose twitch uncontrollably, and most spectacularly with another hex that caused a crop of bright purple hair to sprout from his palms.
"It wouldn't be that useful in a real duel, I suppose," Harry said as he performed the counterspell, "but it's impressive in its own way."
"Oh, it might be startling enough to work," said Draco, inspecting his now fur-free hands. "Let me try Protego against that one once more."
"Tomorrow. It's getting late, we ought to go on to Bristol. I was thinking that the university would be a good place to Apparate to. Term's over so there shouldn't be many people about, and it's in the city. There'll be buses going past, we can act like proper Muggles," said Harry.
They settled their rucksacks on their shoulders and Apparated together.
"I keep being nervous about that," Harry confessed after they had arrived safely.
"What, you think you're going to splinch yourself?"
"Not really. I'm worried that the Ministry will come after me for using magic out of school, and Apparating without a license to boot. I won't be seventeen until the end of July, so I'm still underage," explained Harry.
"Well, I'm unlicensed too," Draco pointed out, "even if I am of age." A birthday that had passed unnoticed, in flight for his life. "If a Ministry witch or wizard spotted us I'd be in far worse trouble than you anyway, I'm sure to be wanted for questioning at the very least. But they can't possibly keep track of every underaged wizard all the time, the Ministry simply hasn't the personnel to do it. They depend on parents to keep their kids in line."
"Yeah, that makes sense," said Harry. "I expect they watched my uncle and aunt's house because they knew I was there with no adult wizard or witch to make sure I didn't do any magic. I got caught more than once."
"Speaking of getting caught..." said Draco. They were coming up to a busy road.
Harry found a bus stop and deciphered the schedule for Draco's benefit. It looked as if they would have to catch a bus from here and then change to another that would take them to the hostel, he explained. As they boarded, Harry asked the driver which bus they needed to catch next and where, and the man replied readily, if with an air of boredom. Draco had to admit to himself that the Muggles he had seen so far in Harry's company had belied many of the stereotypes he had grown up believing, but – after all – he had not seen that many. And Harry's tales of his relatives were much more in line with what Draco had always assumed Muggles were like, so he would reserve judgment yet a while.
The room at the hostel was adequate, if tiny and rather far from the toilet. Though that might not be entirely bad: less noisy at night, Draco suspected. He was thankful when Harry decided they should go out to find their dinner, as the smells drifting along the corridor were unappealing.
Harry evidently liked Asian food even if he did not know much about it, since he chose a kebab takeaway for their dinner. Draco whispered to Harry to be sure to order some naan bread to go with the lamb and chicken. It was all better than he had expected, he decided, once they sat down and began to eat. Certainly better than what he had been eating before he had found Harry.
Apparently Harry was curious about that, for he asked Draco how he had managed all those weeks.
"It wasn't easy," said Draco. "Mostly I Accio'd things from shops, but I had to be careful so that no one would see."
"Stealing," said Harry, sounding censorious.
Draco reacted to the unspoken accusation with anger. "Yes, stealing. I didn't have a lot of choice, did I?" he demanded. "And after all, they were only..." he broke off.
"Only Muggles," Harry concluded.
Yes, only Muggles. But not all Muggles were bad, were they? Draco looked down at the shirt he was wearing, lent to him by Mr. Granger, and did not respond.
Harry was still talking, reminding Draco that Hermione should have his money for him in two days' time, and he would be able to pay his way after that.
But for how long? Draco had some idea of how many Muggle pounds his Galleons were worth, and it was not that much. And after the money was gone, what would he do? He would have to depend on Harry's continued good will. For all Harry's assurances that the money was no problem, it was galling to think that he, a Malfoy, could not pay his own way. He clenched his fists impotently, saying, "You needn't tell me it's wrong to steal even from Muggles." What did Harry think, that his parents had encouraged such behavior towards inferiors? They were not worth the risk of dishonor.
"I wasn't trying to accuse you," Harry said. "Really. I was only curious how you had managed; better than I might have, I think."
That ended the conversation for the time being, to Draco's relief, and they began to walk back towards the hostel. As they passed a particularly noisy nightclub, Harry surprised him by suggesting that they should go in and get a drink.
Inside it was as crowded, dim, and loud as Draco expected, with unfamiliar music pulsing in a beat that throbbed through his very bones. He looked around, blinking, and Harry handed him a glass. The cool cider quenched a thirst he had not noticed, and he drained it quickly, accepting a second pint when Harry brought it and drinking that one just as fast.
Too fast, he realized as the edges of the room went blurry. One distant gyrating figure at a time came into and out of focus as he peered at them. Harry was saying something.
"Leave?" Draco's attention was on a dark-haired man who reminded him of Blaise Zabini; the man's shirt was so tight that every rippling muscle showed as he moved. He heard only the last few words Harry said.
"...go to bed."
"To bed." Not yet, Draco thought, still watching the man across the room. Harry was tugging at his arm, pulling him away. Reluctantly he followed.
The cooler air outside roused him somewhat. Harry was taking them back to their room at the hostel. Draco let himself lean on Harry just a bit as they walked. In the room, he lay down on his bed and let his eyes drift shut, listening to the sounds of Harry taking off his clothes and imagining what he would see if he watched, but his head was whirling too much just then to do so.
"Draco." Harry touched his shoulder, saying, "Better get undressed for bed, you'll regret it if you fall asleep in all your clothes and your shoes."
That was Harry all over. Draco heard the door click shut as Harry went out, and reluctantly sat up. A quick Accio with his wand brought the green t-shirt, and another spell folded today's clothes in a pile by his rucksack. He really ought to brush his teeth, but the bed was too tempting. Draco slid under the covers, half-asleep, waiting for everything to stop feeling like it would spin away.
He rolled over and opened his eyes, though, when Harry came back, and hazily watched him moving around the room. Suddenly Harry was kneeling beside him, looking concerned.
"You okay?"
Draco nodded dreamily.
"Sure?" Harry asked again.
Harry's green eyes looked like the sea after a storm, and gazing into them Draco thought he might drown. He lifted his hand, not sure if he was trying to push Harry away or grasp at him like a life preserver, but Harry drew back, his features twisting – in disgust? Anger? Draco did not know.
"Sorry," gasped Draco. "I'm so sorry, Harry." He turned his head away, ashamed, and closed his eyes so that he would not have to see the rejection he knew would be written on Harry's face.
Was that – it could not be Harry touching him? The brush of fingers along his jaw made Draco open his eyes, just in time to see Harry's face inches away, and then warm lips were on his own, Harry had crawled on top of him and was kissing him, tongue searching out every sensitive nerve in his mouth, dark hair falling across Draco's eyelids and cheeks in its own caress.
Draco shivered, as much at the unexpectedness of it as at the sensation, so convinced had he been a moment before that Harry despised his weak longing.
Harry broke off and muttered hoarsely, "Nothing more than this."
Nothing more? How could he not want more? Already Draco felt a desperate desire, the greater for having been denied for so very long, but he could not argue with Harry now, and so he nodded, pressing himself against Harry, drawing the other boy back for more of those furious kisses, hoping to persuade him otherwise.
An unmarked time later, he knew that Harry did not change his mind so easily. There was no denying that Harry was as aroused as Draco, but stubbornly, he would do no more than he had said, refusing to touch Draco below the shoulders, much less below the waist, or to allow Draco to do so to him. Whenever Draco tried to grind against him Harry would stop his kisses. Finally Draco gave up the idea. For now.
He was never sure how long it lasted before Harry gave him one final kiss, sucking at Draco's neck until he was certain the mark would not fade for days, and slipped away, back to his own bed. Draco thought about bringing himself off – it would take scarcely a touch, after being frustrated for so long – but somehow he could not bear to do it unless Harry were doing the same, and there were no telltale sounds from across the room. With a suppressed groan, Draco rolled onto his stomach, trying to soothe his ache and heat against the cool sheets.
In the morning, neither of them spoke about their nighttime encounter. Draco started to say something more than once, but was thwarted by the shuttered look on Harry's face. Harry had been so generous already, giving Draco food, shelter, the promise of help against being hunted down by Death Eaters or Lord Voldemort himself. Giving him acceptance and trust despite their long history of antagonism, and Draco had to acknowledge that anyone observing how he had acted towards Harry at Hogwarts would never have guessed that Draco's feelings for the Gryffindor might be anything other than vindictive dislike. Yet Harry had listened to Draco's plea despite all the reasons why he might not, had believed what Draco said, had not asked Draco for anything in return. The least Draco could do was not demand any more from Harry than he wanted to give, and so he held his tongue except for common necessity as they showered, ate breakfast, and finally left the hostel and Apparated to Yorkshire.
Harry had been right the day before when he said he felt there would be no difficulty finding a suitably remote place to practice magic without any Muggles nearby. The sky was a thin blue above the coarse grass of the hillside where they went, Harry once more taking Draco's hand to ensure that they arrived together in this unfamiliar spot. Draco thought that Harry held his hand a fraction longer than necessary, and felt slightly better.
"Now, you wanted to work on the Patronus Charm." Harry dropped his rucksack and sleeping bag and sat tailor-fashion on the grass. "You know the theory, of course."
Draco followed suit and also sat, pulling out his wand. "Concentrate on the happiest moment you can think of."
"Right. The key is to make sure you have a really happy memory, but you also have to have confidence that you can do it. It is a tricky spell, so that believing it will work can actually be the most difficult part," Harry said thoughtfully. "When I first managed it, I hardly realized that I had succeeded."
"What animal is your Patronus?" Draco wanted to delay making a trial he suspected he would fail at.
"A stag," said Harry. "That's why I didn't think it was me."
Draco shook his head, saying, "I don't understand."
"Well..." Harry was clearly trying to decide how to respond. "I'd found out that – someone – was an unregistered Animagus who took that form, and I thought – that person – had come to help me."
"I see," said Draco, although the explanation did not altogether clear up his confusion. "You didn't expect your Patronus to be a stag."
"I had no idea what it would be, I'm not sure anyone does. It certainly doesn't seem that the wizard chooses," Harry said.
"Which is too bad, really. What if you had a really unimpressive-looking Patronus like, I don't know, a rabbit or something?"
Harry laughed. "Somehow I can't imagine a rabbit Patronus at all. Cho Chang's is a swan, but swans can be quite vicious you know. Have you ever had enough success to know what yours is?"
"No," admitted Draco. "Never more than a kind of silvery mist."
"That's what I got at first too. Okay, give it a go... or would you like me to do it first?" Harry looked at Draco, who nodded.
Harry pushed his glasses up his nose – for an instant Draco was distracted, thinking that when they were kissing last night, Harry had not been wearing them, but when had he taken them off? – grasped his wand, and called out, "Expecto Patronum."
Silver light shot from his wand, rapidly resolving into the figure of a stag, which dipped its great antlered head at Harry. Harry gravely saluted in return before letting it vanish and turning to Draco.
"Think of something happy," Harry prompted.
This was the sticking-point for him, Draco was sure of it. He did not lack confidence in his ability: his success with the Protean Charm two days earlier showed that he could handle difficult charms with no trouble. What would be a suitably happy memory? Winning a Quidditch match for Slytherin, perhaps. He was a more-than-adequate Seeker. Being taunted that he had bought his way onto the team second year had been unfair, he had earned that place even if his father's gift of broomsticks had been an extra incentive for Flint to choose him at the tryouts. Not a happy thought, the memory of those Gryffindor sneers. He banished it from his mind and concentrated on remembering the feel of the Snitch in his hand, the triumph of beating Ravenclaw.
"Now," said Harry.
Draco raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum!" But the mist that emerged failed to take on any recognizable shape.
"Try again."
He tried again, and again, and again, with no more success.
"Perhaps a different memory?" suggested Harry. "It can be hard to tell what is really your happiest."
That might help, maybe. Draco thought about it, and settled on the moment that he had been Sorted into Slytherin. He had been nearly certain that he would be, but had panicked briefly that he could end up in Hufflepuff instead. The decision of the Sorting Hat had been a great relief: he had not let his father and mother down.
Again, though, when he attempted the charm, it was no good, and however hard he concentrated on the memory, however often he said the words, he failed to produce a Patronus. He pulled a face. "It's no good."
"Here," Harry rummaged through his rucksack and pulled out a bar of chocolate, breaking it in two and handing Draco the larger piece. "It's tiring even if it doesn't work, I know."
Draco's whole arm tingled when Harry's fingers touched his. He ate several bites of the chocolate, then set the rest aside and licked the melting fragments from his fingers, saving the spot Harry had grazed till last. Another memory, he needed another memory. He took up his wand again and said, "Expecto Patronum."
This time, the silver mist at last took shape, and there in front of him was a great badger, clumsy-looking perhaps, but Draco knew it to be an animal stronger and more clever than its appearance might suggest. He held his breath as his Patronus first tipped its head to gaze at him, then deliberately walked towards Harry and nodded to him, too, before vanishing as Draco relaxed.
Harry raised his eyebrows, but said only, "Good. Wait a bit and try again, I think, until you feel comfortable with it. Eat the rest of the chocolate before you try."
Three more large bites of chocolate later, Draco again cast the charm with no trouble. As he had suspected, it had been the memories he had tried that had been insufficiently happy. Now he held fast to the surprised joy he had felt last night at the moment Harry's lips touched his own, and the badger Patronus emerged in a whoosh of silver.
"Well done, Draco," said Harry, grinning. "I think you really have it now."
Draco grinned back. "Yeah, I think I do. Thanks for the help."
"What help did I give? I expect all you needed was more practice," Harry said.
"Maybe... but thanks anyway," said Draco. It was still only late morning. "Er. Now that I've managed the Patronus Charm, what do you want to do for the rest of the day?"
"I think later we should Apparate closer to tonight's place and hike in the rest of the way," said Harry. "Until then – I guess we can practice some more, if that's all right with you."
"Why not?" Draco shrugged. "What jinx do you want to work on first?"
The rest of that day passed much as the one before, with the two of them alternating in hexing each other, trying various defensive spells to keep the other's jinx from working. At lunchtime they realized that they had forgotten to bring anything to eat, and Harry said he would Apparate away and bring back some food.
It seemed to Draco that Harry took rather a long time about it. To keep himself occupied, he practiced the Patronus Charm once again, this time concentrating to see how long he could maintain it. He was so intent that he did not notice Harry's return, and very nearly leapt out of his skin when Harry touched his arm. His Patronus vanished as Draco turned.
"Sorry," said Harry. "Didn't mean to startle you. Here." He handed Draco a plastic container. "Pasta with vegetables and chicken. I bought some bread and cheese, too, we can save that for tomorrow's breakfast."
They ate quickly and practiced for several more hours, then Apparated together and started walking toward the Skirfare Bridge Barn. Harry seemed less edgy than he had that morning, and Draco decided that he wanted to talk about last night before they were around other people again.
"Harry?"
"What?" He saw Harry's shoulders tighten.
"Look, about last night..." Draco was unsure what to say next, how to explain.
"You were drunk, or halfway there, and so was I," said Harry. "That's all."
"No, that's not all," said Draco. "It wasn't just because I was drunk, you have to know that. I mean, I might not have done it if I wasn't, but it was real."
"I'm," Harry stopped walking and faced Draco. "I don't know what to say to that. I don't think I feel what you do, what you wish I did. Not that I didn't want to do it, or didn't like it, but... this is just too weird, Draco." He shook his head. "I've spent six years loathing you, don't you know that? And it seemed to be mutual. It's really hard to suddenly change all my ideas like this. Besides, I don't..."
"You don't what?" asked Draco when Harry trailed off.
"I don't understand why you fancy me," said Harry bluntly. "I mean, there must be some reason. And you didn't show it until after you needed my help. It's not as if I'd be an obvious choice for you, so what's going on?"
Draco paused for a moment before replying, to bring his voice under control. "If you're saying that I'm saying that I like you just to be flattering, you're wrong. I admit I might do that, but I'm not. I can't prove it, though. As to why... I've always preferred boys," he said. "So, well, that's part of it. Why you? Merlin, Harry, haven't you ever looked in a mirror? But it's not just that you're a good-looking bloke, either, there's something about how you care about things without taking life too seriously at the same time. Oh, I don't know, I'm not explaining well at all," he finished hopelessly. "Just that when I'm around you, I feel like everything's going to be all right."
ch. 1 / ch. 2 / ch. 3 / ch. 4 / ch. 5 / ch. 6 / ch. 7 / ch. 8 / ch. 9 / ch. 10 / ch. 11 / ch. 12 / ch. 13 / ch. 14 / ch. 15 / ch. 16 / ch. 17 / ch. 18 / ch. 19 / ch. 20 / ch. 21 / ch. 22 / ch. 23 / ch. 24 / ch. 25 / ch. 26 / ch. 27 / ch. 28 / ch. 29 / ch. 30 / ch. 31 / ch. 32 / ch. 33 / ch. 34 / ch. 35 / ch. 36 / ch. 37 / ch. 38 / ch. 39 / ch. 40