Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2007-08-08 20:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | hp fic better than revenge, hp fic draco/harry |
HP fic: Better Than Revenge, ch. 33: In the Garden [Harry/Draco, general]
Title: Better Than Revenge
chapter 33, "In the Garden"
Author: celandineb
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: general
Summary: Harry's promise to help Draco while Hermione tries to remove the Mark produces some not-entirely-discreet results.
Whatever else he might have dreamed in the later part of the night, Harry did not remember it when he woke. Draco had rolled away, his breathing heavy, and Harry decided to leave him asleep while he showered. The warm water beating on him felt good, as if it were washing away the horrors of his nightmare. He frowned. That in his dream it had been Draco who was first to be attacked by Voldemort wasn't entirely a surprise, but it felt odd just the same to have been more upset by that than by seeing Ron or Hermione or Ginny succumb.
He toweled dry quickly and pulled on the first clothes that came to hand; no one at the Burrow would care what he wore. Leaning over Draco, he shook his shoulder. "Draco. Come on, you need to wake up."
Draco groused and grumbled as he pushed back the covers, but gave Harry a look of pure sleepy innocence as he said, "Shower with me?"
It was too tempting to resist, even though he was already clean. He was certain that Draco must have ulterior motives, but since it had been Draco who'd not gotten off last night, it seemed only fair to let him have what he wished now; besides, Draco had a painful day in front of him. When they were both in the giddy post-orgasm glow, washing whatever of each other they could reach and laughing, Harry felt a pang of concern at just how much he was asking Draco to endure. He held the other boy tight and kissed him fiercely, promising afterward, "I'll stay with you today. You've nothing to fear."
Almost as soon as he had gone through the Floo to the Burrow, though, Harry realized that keeping his word would be more difficult than he'd anticipated. Ron and Ginny were delighted to see him, and Ron started hinting that Harry, at least, ought to stay the night, since he hadn't on his birthday. It was nice to feel so welcome, but Harry wondered how he could manage to both be with Draco when Hermione cast the Permutatio, and yet not have the two Weasleys watching and making Draco uncomfortable.
The problem was solved when Ginny said, "It's a gorgeous morning for flying," in wistful tones, looking sidelong at the boys.
"Why don't we all go out and play some Quidditch?" Harry suggested. "Will your mum mind?"
"Nah," said Ron. "Happy to have us out from underfoot, I expect. It'll let her get Sunday dinner in peace. And Dad'll be tinkering with one of his Muggle gadgets."
"Great." Harry called over to Draco, who'd been given a glass of pumpkin juice by Mrs. Weasley and looked relieved to get away.
"Quidditch?" Draco asked. "But I thought..."
"It's just an excuse. If Ron's parents knew Hermione was trying to remove the Mark, they might want to supervise. Don't worry."
When they reached the broom shed, Harry offered Ginny his Firebolt, explaining that Draco needed to talk with Hermione, so he'd sit out at first and let Ron and Ginny play as two-on-one didn't seem fair.
Draco's face went stiff, almost sullen, when Hermione asked him to roll up his sleeve, but Harry knew it was a mask to hide his apprehension. This close, Harry could see the tiny beads of sweat along Draco's hairline, and the pale slim fingers gripped his own as tightly as a Grindylow.
"Permutatio," said Hermione. A tiny patch of the Mark slowly erased itself, the dark lines seeming to unravel into Draco's skin and then disappear as the tracery grew finer and fine. "It's working." Her voice was pleased. "Shall I go on?"
Since Draco stayed quiet, Harry replied for him. "Yes. It has to be done."
She frowned – no doubt because Harry, not Draco, had answered – but when Draco said nothing against the idea, she continued.
After a dozen attempts, each of which removed another minuscule portion, Draco suddenly spoke. "Please. No more."
Only an eighth or so of the Mark was gone – surely Draco wasn't going to give up yet? Harry felt a stab of disappointment, but before he could say anything, Draco added, "Just for a few minutes. Let me watch the Weasleys fly for a bit, and then you can try again."
"I'll get us all a glass of water." Hermione stood, dusting herself off, and headed for the house.
"How is it?" Harry asked.
"It fucking hurts, Harry, what do you think? And it's going to take her a hundred goes at this rate, but I don't know how much more I can stand." Draco was blinking fast, his lips red and swollen from biting them at the pain.
Harry ran his fingers over Draco's unmarked right arm. "You didn't promise to let Hermione do it all in one day. If it's too painful, you can stop, try some more tomorrow."
Rather to his astonishment, Draco shook his head at the suggestion. "No, I want it off me, the whole of it."
"Are you sure? I mean, I think you'd be safe enough if she can get rid of half, perhaps even less."
"Better to have it all gone," said Draco, meeting Harry's gaze with a look that was weary and determined and anguished all at once. He seemed so forlorn that Harry couldn't help leaning to kiss him, just on the cheek, and felt the pulse in Draco's wrist quicken beneath his fingers.
"I thought we weren't going to do that sort of thing where anyone could see." Draco's voice was a husky murmur, roughened by the pain he'd been swallowing.
He's going through this for me, realized Harry abruptly. Because I asked, not just because he'll be safer. There didn't seem to be any way to express the emotions that welled up inside him except to kiss Draco again, mouth to mouth this time, tasting the faintest hint of pumpkin juice as Draco's lips yielded to his for an instant.
"No – Hermione." Draco pulled back.
She had seen, though, saying, "You might be a little more circumspect, given that at any moment Ron and Ginny are likely to come for you to take a turn."
Guilt stabbed at him. It had been stupid, and he admitted it. "It won't happen again."
"It's your funeral if it does," said Hermione levelly, her eyes flickering to Draco.
Not Harry's funeral, most likely. Draco's. "It won't. Um. Look, if Ginny asks... could you try to downplay this? Don't lie, I would ask that, but it's all rather a mess."
"It is, yes. But if you'll promise to be more discreet, I'll do what you're asking."
"We will be," Harry told her, and Draco nodded his agreement, although the continued pressure of his hand prompted Harry to add, "But I did promise I'd stay while you're casting the Permutatio. If me being here helps to distract from the pain, I have to. I guess it's something Voldemort did with the Mark because the spell wasn't painful when we tested it on me the very first time."
"All right," sighed Hermione. "Just stop holding hands when I'm not actually casting the spell – what if Ginny or Ron comes down?"
"I understand, Hermione. I'm not a complete idiot."
"No, just too impulsive sometimes. Ready, Draco?"
As Hermione continued to work, and Draco grew paler and gripped Harry's hand more and more tightly, Harry thought about what she had said. He was impulsive, Hermione was right, but also... he hated having to hide. He would trust the Weasley family with his own life, but it wasn't fair to put Draco's on the line; Draco didn't know them the way Harry did, he had spent his whole life hearing that they were blood traitors. And Ginny made everything hugely more complicated. If she figured things out, what might she do? Maybe it would be better to tell her, although he shuddered at the thought of working out how to even start that conversation. Harry glanced at Hermione, who was concentrating so hard on Draco that she was ignoring the strands of hair that the breeze kept whipping into her eyes. He reached over and tucked the lock behind her ear and she nodded absently.
After a while, Draco began to make soft moans deep in his throat each time Hermione recast the spell, and Harry saw tears sliding down his cheeks though his eyes were closed. He didn't ask again for Hermione to stop, however. Harry edged closer and started murmuring words of encouragement, hardly knowing what he said, just wanting to help Draco hang on. When he heard Ginny and Ron's laughing voices coming closer, he stroked Draco's arm and said to Hermione, "Stop for now."
Ron looked cheerful – he must have had a successful run as Keeper to Ginny's Chaser – and when he came close he said, "Enjoying yourself, Malfoy?" in a casual tone.
Draco sprang to his feet faster than Harry would have believed possible, especially given that he looked as if he might fall over just as quickly. The trembling of his voice matched that of his legs. "Shut your mouth, Weasel. You don't know what you're talking about."
Before they could go any further, Harry stood up and put himself between the two. Hermione had done the same, and immediately started talking to Ron in an urgent tone. Harry could hear enough to know that she was reminding him of how much the Permutatio hurt, and of course Draco was touchy, Ron would be too in his circumstances. Harry hoped Draco didn't hear that last bit.
"Please don't, Draco," he said softly. "I'm sure Ron didn't intend to be rude."
"I won't if he won't," said Draco.
"He'd've said the same to me. He wasn't sneering at you, really." Harry realized he had taken Draco's hand again without thinking. He let it go and touched his shoulder instead.
"If you say so." Draco's voice held lingering doubt. He stepped away, taking a deep breath and squaring his narrow shoulders. "I think I'd like to fly for a bit now, take a break. Ginny? I trust it's all right if I play?" Harry hoped she heard the question as plea rather than condescension.
"Are you playing too?" Ginny looked at Harry and held out the Firebolt to him.
"Sure, I guess so." After what Draco had gone through this morning, he deserved a break to relax. Best if he didn't team with Ron, though. "Since you and Draco played together last time, maybe we should switch around. All right if you and Ron go against Draco and me?"
Ginny hesitated, then shrugged. "Fine. Ron, ready to take on Harry and Draco?"
"Absolutely." Ron still looked somewhat annoyed, but Harry expected he would get over it once they were up in the air.
As she had done once before, Hermione lent Draco her broom, saying that she was pleased to simply watch and would wave them down when it was time to eat.
They played with just the Quaffle, which gave Ginny and Ron an advantage, but Harry was pleased to find that he and Draco worked well as a team. Not that it was easy to get past Ron, but they each managed several goals, alternating turns as Keeper defending against Ginny. By the time that Hermione's calls urged them back, the tension in Draco's face had smoothed and he even managed a grin at Harry when they landed.
"Come on, you took ages up there," said Hermione impatiently and hustled them all into the house, where Mrs. Weasley had a substantial meal waiting. Harry sat next to her and managed with a certain amount of difficulty to convince her that Dobby was doing a perfectly fine job of feeding them and would be hurt if Harry hinted otherwise by staying away for supper without notice.
"I worry about you, Harry." Mrs. Weasley patted his arm, but her head was turned towards Draco. Harry wasn't sure if that meant she thought Draco was the cause for worry or not.
He was not interested in finding out, either. If she did he didn't want to know. He was of age, now, and he could decide for himself what he was going to do. "I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley." Harry smiled at her.
She continued to look doubtful, turning the topic of conversation to Hogwarts. "You really ought to go back when the term begins. Ron is talking about leaving as well, but we'll just see about that. None of you is ready to face You-Know-Who, whatever you may think. Arthur and I are agreed on that point and so are Minerva and Remus." She nodded at her husband at the far end of the table, who broke off speaking to Ron to lift his fork in salute back.
"It doesn't matter if we are ready or not," Harry said, a little wearily. "Voldemort isn't going to accommodate his plans to our abilities or our convenience. I have to start doing what I can, now. Draco's given me some useful information and I do have plans, though I can't share them with you yet." Why Dumbledore had been reluctant for the Order to learn about the Horcruxes, Harry still couldn't fathom, but until he either figured out why or had no other alternative, he planned to keep that bit of knowledge limited to as few people as possible.
Mrs. Weasley sniffed, a sound halfway between annoyance and concern. "If you must, then you must, but that doesn't mean Ron should be involved in this mad enterprise."
"No, it doesn't," said Harry slowly, glancing at Ron on the far side of the table. He knew he couldn't persuade Ron not to want to help; Ron would just point out that if Harry took risks, so could he, and hadn't things always worked out best when the two of them and Hermione acted together? Which, truthfully, Harry could not deny. Only now there was Draco to be considered too. He knew as much as Ron did about the Horcruxes, he had some potentially useful information on Voldemort and the Death Eaters – Harry was surprised that McGonagall hadn't yet insisted that Draco share that with the Order – and he'd taken an Unbreakable Vow that ensured that he would help Harry, regardless of any other considerations. Not that Harry didn't trust both Ron and Hermione implicitly, but now that Draco had somehow become a part of his life too, things were different from what they had once been. Frustrated, he sighed, and was thankful when Mrs. Weasley left him alone for the time being, talking instead to Hermione at her other elbow.
After they had all finished eating, and Ron and Ginny were helping their mother clean up – with vociferous protest from Ron – Harry asked Draco quietly, "How do you feel about letting Hermione work on the Mark some more now?"
Draco's smile was tight. "I really haven't much of a choice, have I? I suppose you could cast the spell too, but I'd rather keep on as we were. If you can think of a way to keep Ginny and Ron from watching." He sounded half-ashamed to be asking that.
"Well, Ron already knows about getting rid of the Mark; he saw Hermione's first attempt at Grimmauld Place. If you don't mind Ginny knowing too, I could just tell them that you'd rather be private as Hermione casts the spell. I think they'd both respect that. One of them might joke about it, is all." Harry thought it over. "I could ask Ginny to see if she can find any good recipes for dissolving potions in the meantime. Who knows, maybe she'll discover something useful."
Draco muttered something that Harry didn't catch. Instead of repeating it when Harry asked, though, he said, "I was thinking... they've done a lot for you, and have been helping me now too, for your sake." His throat worked as he swallowed. "Maybe there's something I could give them, Ginny and Ron and Hermione too. I have a fair bit of money now that I have my chest again. How do you think they'd like tickets to a Quidditch match? Isn't Ron a big Cannons fan?" Draco's expression was slightly derisive, but he smoothed it out when Harry looked at him.
"He is, yeah. I'm not sure what team Ginny follows." Admitting that was a bit embarrassing. Surely he ought to know what team his girlfriend – or rather, ex-girlfriend, but still friend – supported. "Hermione's not so keen on Quidditch, you know that, but she liked seeing the World Cup. She'd enjoy going with them even if she wouldn't pick up on the finer points," he added in a low tone, lest Hermione, reading on the far side of the room, overhear.
"Upcoming matches ought to be in the Prophet," said Draco. "Surely the Weasleys get – ah, there it is." He had spotted the stack of issues piled on top of a side table. Grabbing the most recent, he flipped through it rapidly. "Cannons... they're playing next Saturday, against Puddlemere. Plenty of time to send for tickets. If you think it's a good idea? I can order four tomorrow, if you'll let me borrow your owl."
"Four tickets? Why four?"
A flush spread over Draco's cheeks. "I thought you'd enjoy going too, but I'm sure that having me there would make it less fun for the others, and if they're not having a good time then you won't. Better if I stay away. Besides, it's too dangerous, there could easily be Death Eaters there and it wouldn't be safe."
It was tempting. He had never been to a regular professional match, but... "No," Harry said. "You're probably right about the danger, but I wouldn't enjoy it knowing you were stuck in Grimmauld Place alone. It's a splendid idea to get tickets for the others, if you want to give them a gift, but I won't go if you can't. Add in Mr. and Mrs. Weasley instead, if you'd like."
"All right." Draco looked thoughtful. "I'll think about it."
"What are you nattering on about?" Ron's voice interrupted them.
"Hermione's going to work on the Mark some more," said Harry. "I told Draco I'd stay with him... come on, I'd do the same for you," he added when Ron's eyebrows went up. "Give over. While we're doing that, I was wondering if you could help me out by looking to see if you could find anything about a potion that might destroy the locket Horcrux, you and Ginny."
Ron's expression was rebellious, almost sulky. "You know I'm rubbish at that sort of thing. Hermione's the one to do research."
"She can't exactly cast the Permutatio spell and research potions at the same time," Harry said impatiently. "Come on, Ron, I need your help. It can't always be exciting duels in the Ministry's lower levels." Harry glanced across the room. Ginny had come back in and was talking to Hermione, who had closed her book but kept her finger in it to mark her place. "Ginny? Would you do me a favor?" he called.
"What is it?" Ginny looked over.
"Go through whatever Potions books you have around here and see if you can find a really strong potion to dissolve metal," said Harry.
"Gold, but it seems harder than ordinary gold," Draco put in. "Something that works on steel might do, as long as it doesn't work by accelerating rust."
"I'll look, and Mum might know of something too," said Ginny. "Should I ask her as well?"
"Yes, of course. You don't mind?"
Ginny shrugged, and Harry wondered what Hermione had said to her. "Not really. I think I pulled a muscle catching the Quaffle that last time, my arm's sore and I don't feel like playing Quidditch again right now anyway."
"Oh, fine, I'll help," grumbled Ron when Harry turned to him once more. "We haven't that many books on Potions, but maybe in Percy's room... he did a N.E.W.T. in it, and I think his books are still here."
"Thanks, Ron. I appreciate it. Thanks, Ginny," he said as Ginny came over, trailed by Hermione, who had tucked the book under her arm.
"Can we start again now?" Draco asked Hermione, though his expression was distinctly unenthusiastic. "I'd like to get it over with today, if that's possible."
The two Weasleys went off, Ron to Percy's room and Ginny to talk to her mother – "Maybe something Mum uses to unblock the drains would do if it were concentrated enough," she speculated before disappearing. The other three went back outside and sat under the big oak once more.
Harry reached for Draco's right hand and held it in both his own, waiting for Hermione to begin the spell.
"I want to try something different." Hermione looked, not at Draco, but at Harry. "There might be a way to do this faster."
"How?" Draco and Harry both spoke at once, and Draco went on, "Why didn't you say so before?"
Her face was pink. "I didn't remember how to do it; that's what I was reading about, just now. And... there oughtn't to be anyone else around. This morning, when Ron and Ginny might have stopped playing at any time, it wouldn't have been proper."
"What do you mean, not proper?" asked Harry. "Just what is it you want to try?"
Hermione took a deep breath, then spoke very fast, her eyes fixed on the wand she was turning over in her fingers. "It's a way to enhance the effect of a spell on one person by casting it through a second person to amplify it, using the second person's magical ability. It only works if there's a very strong emotional connection between the amplifier and the subject, though, because..."
"Don't bother explaining the theory," said Harry, letting go of Draco with his right hand and holding it up to stop her. "You'd be casting Permutatio through me to affect Draco."
"Yes." Hermione was bright scarlet now. "But the emotional connection... it has to be..." her voice squeaked and she fell silent.
"I think what she's trying it say is that we have to be in love, or maybe that we have to have had sex," drawled Draco with an edge to his tone that Harry could not identify.
She nodded mutely, then found her voice to say, "I wouldn't suggest it except that it would make the Mark disappear much faster, if it works. Maybe five or even ten times as fast."
"Will I feel what Draco feels?" Harry asked.
Hermione frowned. "You shouldn't, if we do it properly. You'll just be the conduit. Or maybe 'focus' is a better description, like a lens that narrows down light and makes it brighter by doing so. You'll be enhancing the intensity of the spell."
"All right, then," said Harry. He supposed that what he and Draco had done together qualified as sex; it certainly did in his opinion, and he found himself grinning at the memory. And he had to admit that the necessary emotion was there, although that thought made his smile fade a little again. If this succeeded, and they removed the Mark so quickly, Ginny and Ron would doubtless want to know how – and the explanation for it wouldn't be one either Weasley would much enjoy hearing. But if it meant less pain for Draco to have it over with faster, Harry was willing to try. "How do we do this?"
"Put your hand over... no, you'd better move around to Draco's other side first," said Hermione briskly. She opened her book and scanned it briefly, then nodded to herself. "Now, put your right hand over his arm, with your index finger touching the Mark just there, at the edge of where I've been removing it. Give me your other hand so I can cast the spell through you – when it goes through your heart, that's what intensifies the magic."
"It sounds dangerous," Draco said, his voice thready with apprehension. "It can't hurt Harry, doing this, can it?"
"There's some risk involved," admitted Hermione. "But no real danger."
"What do you mean?"
Harry was glad that Draco had asked. He trusted Hermione, but sometimes she did get too caught up in the sheer excitement of learning something new to consider the possible consequences.
Guardedly she said, "Since we haven't ever tried this before, there's perhaps a one in three chance that it won't work at all, and I'd guess a one in fifteen chance that there will be a... a backwash, is the best way to describe it, which would mean Harry would feel the same pain that Draco does. But I'm quite certain that it won't actually harm you in any way, Harry, any more than the Permutatio alone harms Draco. It just might hurt a bit."
"Hurt a lot," Draco contradicted.
"I'll take that risk," said Harry, relieved. "It sounds as if the worst that might happen, really, is that nothing would happen. I'm not worried about the pain."
"Give me your hand again, then," said Hermione. "Ready? Now focus on Draco, on the Mark, as if you were going to cast the spell yourself, but don't say anything. Just concentrate your attention, and I'll... Permutatio!"
A tingle shot through Harry, almost like when, at the age of five, he had stuck one of Aunt Petunia's hairpins into an electrical outlet because Dudley had dared him to. She hadn't scolded Dudley at all; she had yelled at Harry instead and forced him to stay in his cupboard for an entire day. This tingle was not painful in the same way, though. It was more as if all his senses were heightened. He was very aware of Draco, the way that a stray sunbeam glinted off his hair, the not-quite-spicy smell of his skin. He could almost feel the Dark Mark under his fingertips, the evil residue of it shrinking away from the force of Hermione's spell.
"It's working," said Draco in awe as a Knut-sized patch disappeared where Harry's finger touched his arm.
"It is," agreed Hermione, sounding – it couldn't be surprised? If she had discovered this trick in her reading, surely she had expected it to work if done correctly. But when Harry asked, as they paused before repeating the spell, she blushed.
"I... I wasn't sure if the two of you were really..."
Suddenly Harry realized that his cock was hard, painfully so, and that he wanted nothing more than to tear off his clothes and Draco's. He forced the urge down. "We really are," he confirmed a touch ruefully.
"It would seem so," Draco agreed. A quick glance told Harry that Draco was experiencing the same rush of desire. He hoped Hermione didn't notice, though that was unlikely; she had seemed to know this might well happen when she'd said it would be improper to try the spell with anyone else around. Bad enough that she was there, Harry thought.
"Um." Hermione was biting her lip. "Was it too painful, having that much removed at once, for you to keep on?"
"No, I want to finish," said Draco, his voice firm.
Harry felt a rush of gratification to hear that. A thought niggled at him, though; if they tried this again, and it added to the physical effects, he might just come untouched in his own trousers, and in front of Hermione that would be sheer humiliation. But Draco seemed unconcerned about any such possibility and Harry could hardly refuse to participate now. He wasn't the one having to endure the pain... and perhaps the distraction of being aroused made it hurt less for Draco. Harry could bear even the shame of having an orgasm in Hermione's presence if it meant that. He hoped earnestly it would not be necessary.
As they repeated the spell several times, each effort causing a clearly-visible shrinkage in the Mark, Harry retained control only with the sternest of efforts. Draco gripped his own knee with his other hand until his knuckles were white; Harry couldn't tell if he did so to distract himself from the pain of the Mark dissolving or from a lust that matched Harry's own.
"Oh, thank goodness," Hermione whispered as the last patch of inky tracery finally vanished, accompanied by a moan and shudder from Draco. "Are you all right?"
Draco nodded, still shaking.
"Can you give us a few minutes, Hermione?" Harry interposed when she seemed about to cross-question Draco on his reaction.
She shot him a look as she rose. "Remember, discretion."
"I know," said Harry, irritated. Did she think he was going to leap on Draco right in the Weasleys' back garden? Well, perhaps he would. He closed his fingers around the thin tufts of grass next to his legs.
"I'll go back to the house and see how Ron and Ginny are getting on. I'll tell them you'll be there in fifteen minutes," Hermione said.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Harry turned to Draco. "You felt it too."
"Did I ever." Draco swallowed. "Merlin, Harry, it's all I can do not to shag you right here."
Hearing that made Harry gasp, imagining it. He'd thought about what that might be like, a few times in the past week or so, but Draco had never been so direct in saying what he wanted. "Yes," he agreed thickly.
"Or have you shag me," said Draco, his grey eyes gleaming almost silver as he gazed at Harry.
Harry stifled a whimper. Not here. Not now. He didn't even dare touch Draco at present or he'd start rutting mindlessly against him. "Tonight," he said, and the single word was a promise to them both.
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