HP fic: Better Than Revenge, ch. 18: To the Granite City [Harry/Draco, adult]
Title: Better Than Revenge chapter 18, "To the Granite City" Author: celandineb Fandom: HP Pairing: Harry/Draco Rating: adult Summary: Harry summons Kreacher to bring Draco's trunk from Hogwarts, and asks Dobby to keep a watch on Kreacher. Draco tries a spell that they hope might serve to alter the Mark.
"So what do you want to talk about? Where to go next? How to remove the Mark? What it's like to be a Death Eater?"
Draco felt it like a blow to the stomach. He had thought things were shaping up well between them, yet Harry asked a question like that? Grasping for something equally hurtful, he said, "How about what it's like to be the Boy Who Lived?"
He regretted it when Harry pulled as far away as the confines of the sleeping bag permitted, even though what Harry had to say about how it felt to be the Chosen One, and especially about what the prophecy had said, was fascinating. Harry's warning that Draco could repeat nothing about the prophecy to others was needless. Even without the Vow, Draco liked the idea of knowing something secret about Harry, something so important that Voldemort had sent a whole gang of Death Eaters to find it out – despite the fact that one of them was his own father. The idea that Neville Longbottom might have stood in Harry's place was entirely ludicrous, though. Draco had to laugh at that.
The conversation turned to more personal matters, which pleased Draco until it emerged that somehow Hermione Granger had learned that he and Harry had been messing around.
"You told Granger?" Now it was Draco who started to climb out of the sleeping bag, not sure what he intended to do but desperate to get away.
Harry grabbed his arm, however, and held on to it, saying, "No, I didn't tell her. She guessed." He explained how it had been his removal of the love-bite on Draco's neck that had alerted Hermione.
Too clever by half, Granger was. Draco did not want to blame Harry, and he could believe that was how it had happened. He was worried nonetheless. What if Granger talked, and rumors found their way into the Daily Prophet or onto the Wizarding Wireless Network, Merlin forbid? Then he had to explain to Harry all over again just why it bothered him that it might become publicly known that he preferred boys to girls. Harry listened, but Draco was not sure that he really understood how pureblood families functioned. He kept asking whether Draco would ever consider telling his parents the truth, finally even asking if Draco would tell them about a relationship if it were a girl he liked, not a boy.
Draco would not, if he could help it. Too many factors outside his control, and he disliked that. He turned the question around to Harry. "Would you tell your parents, if they were around to tell, if you were serious about someone?" Deliberately he chose not to phrase it, "If you were serious about a girl?" He wanted to see if Harry would assume the person would be a girl, or if he would tacitly accept the possibility that he might find himself seriously interested in another boy.
"I think I'd want to tell my parents if I were seriously involved with someone, since my friends would probably know," Harry said. He had had several more swigs of wine by now, and his face was flushed, little drops of sweat beading along his hairline. "Even if I wasn't sure how they'd react, maybe even if I thought they wouldn't like it."
"Gryffindor honesty flies again," Draco murmured under his breath in a mix of exasperation and tenderness, delighted by Harry's response. Not wanting to explain, he had to avoid repeating his comment aloud when Harry asked, instead saying, "That's very... admirable of you." Foolishly brave, really, even if the Potters might have had different opinions from those of the Malfoy family.
Perhaps it was the compliment, perhaps just the effect of the wine, but Harry leaned over to kiss him again. His glasses bumped uncomfortably against Draco's nose; Draco reached up and pulled them off, careful not to disturb Harry's concentration. He guessed that Harry was probably as hard again as he himself was, and a shift of his weight to bring their hips together proved him right. Harry made no objection when Draco guided his hand to stroke both of them at once. It was so much better this way, moving together urgently, the excitement rising. He meant to make it last longer, but Harry bit him on the neck – how had he learned so quickly to do that? – and Draco could not hold back, coming into their joined hands and using the stickiness to stroke Harry harder, faster, till Harry's cock throbbed and spurted against his.
Oh, this was good, this was what Draco had wanted, so much better than even a really good wank. He realized that he had said that last aloud when Harry laughed a little at him. Draco reminded himself that it was dangerous to let down his guard so readily. He trusted Harry, yes, but bad habits were easy to get into, and not everyone had Harry's sense of honor and loyalty.
"It's twice as messy as wanking, though," Harry remarked, yawning. He spelled them both clean and rolled over away from Draco. "I'm not ignoring you, I sleep better on this side."
"Me, too," said Draco, and he draped one arm around Harry. Draco had never actually slept with anyone else before he had gone to Harry in Godric's Hollow, and those first two nights with Harry, there had been enough lingering distrust between them that it just was not the same as tonight, when a careless or restless move meant nothing more, and neither of them would feel any need to pull back from the other's touch.
He slept well and deeply, but woke early nonetheless. The remaining sandwiches made a substantial, if peculiar, breakfast, and it was the work of only a few minutes to pack everything up and leave the cave tidy.
"Why don't you open that hostel guidebook at random, and we'll go wherever it turns up," he suggested to Harry.
Blind chance chose Aberdeen. Draco felt nervous about going back north – it had been in Yorkshire that the Dark Mark had last burned with Voldemort's touch, and he thought that proximity might have made it worse – but dismissed his fears when Harry voiced them, pointing out that Aberdeen was a long way away from where they had been before.
"If you say so," said Harry, and spelled out the fire. "It was a good place, this. Maybe we could come back sometime."
"I'd like that," Draco said. Muggle-style camping had been far more pleasant than he ever would have thought, although Harry's presence accounted for a lot of his change of heart, he knew. "But now we'd better go." He took Harry's hand, and together they Apparated to Aberdeen. Neither of them had been there before; it was lucky that Harry had mastered the trick of orienting an Apparation to a Muggle map, because Draco knew that had he been on his own, he might have ended up in Aberystwyth instead.
Grey, that was his first impression of the city. The sun shone brilliantly in a blue sky, but practically every building was constructed of grey stone. Dull, dull, dull. "You would think that even a Muggle would get tired of it," he said to Harry as they walked up out of the city center.
"I suppose this stone was cheap when they were building," said Harry. He fished out the guidebook and read through its short description of the city. "Yes, they quarried the stone locally. It's even called the Granite City because so much is built of granite. But you're right, it's not very interesting to look at."
To their disappointment, when they reached the hostel, they learned that it had only two twin rooms, and both were already booked for that night. The best they could do would be a room with four beds, almost certainly shared with two strangers.
"There's one other possibility," Harry said, leafing through the book again after they stepped outside to discuss what to do. "The university here apparently has a hall that lets rooms by the night. We could try there. They have both single and twin rooms, and nothing for more than two people. If there's a twin available that would be better than this hostel. A bit more expensive, doubtless... is that all right with you?"
Draco was somewhat worried about the drain on his funds, but decided it was worth it, and further agreed with Harry that ringing first before walking the several miles to the university was an excellent plan.
Harry emerged from the telephone box smiling. "Done. We'll have a twin room in King's Halls tonight. Breakfast is included, though there's no kitchen facilities so we'll have to go out somewhere for dinner. There's sure to be cheap places to eat near the uni. Now we just need to decide what to do today. More work on Transfiguration?"
"I think first we should talk about what approaches might work best, instead of trying to study without any clear plan," said Draco.
"Did you have something in mind?"
They walked more or less in the direction of the university as they discussed Transfiguration theory. Harry said that between terms like this the university grounds ought not to have too many people about, just like Hogwarts in the summer, when all the students were gone.
Hogwarts. Something tickled at the back of Draco's mind. They could not get into the school grounds right now, not without permission and arrangement like Hermione had set up for herself, but... someone already there could leave. When Harry had finished explaining why he thought Transfiguring Draco's entire arm might be effective, Draco brought up the idea he had just had.
"Harry. You said that you have that house-elf who used to belong to the Blacks..."
"Kreacher," Harry interrupted.
"Right, Kreacher. If he's really yours, you ought to be able to summon him, even from here. We don't have to go to Hogwarts, or get Hermione to carry a message, to get him to bring the money I left there," said Draco excitedly. "I'd have to ask Hermione or Ron to have the Galleons changed at Gringotts of course, but that's all right. I wouldn't be so short of money any more."
Doubtfully, Harry said, "If he'll come when I summon him. Kreacher is not at all pleased that I own him, he'll do anything to wriggle out of my orders, if he can."
"Didn't you say something about having me give him orders instead, when you were talking about it before?" Draco asked.
They planned it out. Harry would summon Kreacher, but then Draco would talk to him while Harry pretended to be angry and defeated, backing up what Draco said as if he disliked it yet had no choice. Draco was sure that two wizards could deceive a house-elf if they were careful.
"I'm still worried, though," said Harry. "Kreacher isn't very trustworthy. I wish there were some way to have Dobby keep an eye on him."
Dobby. Draco was not convinced that the former Malfoy house-elf was any more to be trusted than Kreacher – hadn't Dobby tried to betray Lucius Malfoy's plans to Harry? – but since Harry actually had met both elves, Draco decided to accept his judgment that Dobby was the more reliable.
"I think I can get Kreacher to tell Dobby to come here, too. I'll try," Draco said. "Now go ahead and summon him."
"But I don't know how to summon him. The only time I ever saw it done, Dumbledore was the one who brought him from wherever he was, not me."
By this time they had reached the university and found a reasonably secluded spot between two buildings where it seemed unlikely that any Muggles would pass by, especially on a Sunday morning.
Draco sighed to himself. Sometimes it was more than a bit of a nuisance that Harry had been raised by Muggles, he was ignorant of so many basics. "It's usually a non-verbal spell, but you can do it aloud if that's easier. Say Adeo Kreacher and he ought to appear; house-elves are supposed to always be ready for a summons from their master."
Harry grimaced. "That would make Hermione furious. I have to say it doesn't make me all that happy either to think that Kreacher is always sort of listening to me, in case I call for him."
"No, they can only hear you if they're in a room with you, or if you use the spell to summon them," said Draco patiently. "The spell calls them, they're just supposed to be able to drop anything else when it happens. Like a Muggle telephone."
"All right, all right." Harry gripped his wand. "Adeo Kreacher."
Nothing happened.
"Try again," said Draco. "He shouldn't be able to refuse, even if he's delaying out of spite. Say it with force."
"Adeo Kreacher," Harry repeated, more firmly this time.
With a crack, a house-elf appeared in front of them, his mouth opening as if he were about to shriek imprecations – which, Draco thought, was undoubtedly the case if Harry's description was accurate.
Harry preempted any untoward noise by saying quickly, "Kreacher, you will not shout or scream. I brought you here at his request." He jabbed a thumb at Draco, then sat down on the grass and looked sullen.
Draco quashed the smile that threatened to spread over his face at Harry's rather overdone acting – Harry was awfully attractive with that scowl, for some reason. "That's right," he said, and snapped his fingers at Kreacher. "Do you know who I am?"
The house-elf's expression shifted from loathing to unholy glee as he peered up at Draco. "Mistress Bellatrix's nephew, you are, Master Draco. Kreacher knows you, Kreacher is happy to see you, what does Master Draco wish from Kreacher?"
Fawning courtesies from such a decrepit and disgusting figure did not bring Draco any pleasure. "You've been working at Hogwarts, haven't you? So you know the Slytherin chambers. I left unexpectedly in the spring and had no chance to collect my belongings. You are to go to my dormitory and fetch the small chest under my bed, the one bound in iron with the brass lock. Bring it to me here." Draco spoke in the same tones his father had always used to the Malfoy house-elves: firm, commanding, certain of unquestioning obedience.
Kreacher quivered and his rheumy eyes turned reluctantly towards Harry. "Kreacher must have permission, Master Draco."
"Do as he tells you," said Harry, the lack of inflection in his voice suggesting glum defeat.
"Good," said Draco. "And one more thing. Do you know Dobby, who once served my family?"
"Dobby is a bad servant, Kreacher does not want to know Dobby," was the reply.
"Nevertheless you will find him and tell him to come here with you to Master Harry Potter and Master Draco Malfoy. Tell him that first, and then bring my chest to me," said Draco.
"Kreacher will do as Master Draco has bid," and with another sharp noise the house-elf vanished.
Harry grinned. "I think we pulled it off."
"He certainly seemed pleased to be taking orders from me, even if he had to have your permission too," Draco agreed. "While we're waiting, let's narrow down these Transfiguration possibilities." He was not keen on experimenting with his arm – anything might happen – but he owed it to Harry to do what was necessary. And it seemed necessary to make the attempt. Without noticing that he had done so, Draco exhaled a deep sigh.
Warm fingers curled around his own. Harry said, "We won't try anything if you don't want to, Draco. I'd be afraid too."
"Afraid? I'm not afraid," Draco objected, but the clear light in Harry's green eyes, looking steadily at him, neither challenging nor condemning but merely accepting, compelled him to admit, "Well, maybe a little bit. But I'll go through with it."
Harry nodded, "I know you will. Okay, so we have two major possibilities. One, to try changing the Mark itself – Transfigure the skull into some other shape, for example – and since it's burned into your skin, that means part of your skin as well. Two, we could Transfigure your entire arm into something else and then back, and hope that might get rid of it. Can you think of anything else?"
"Not with Transfiguration anyhow. If I could remember how it was put on in the first place, maybe I'd have more ideas, but You-Know-Who must've Obliviated me afterward, because I don't recall anything about it," said Draco.
"That could be a good sign," said Harry doubtfully. "Voldemort might do that because if you remembered how it was made, it would be easy to undo."
"But I don't know of anyone who was able to remove the Mark afterward," said Draco, "and I know that my father, for one, would have done so if he could have found a way, sometime during all those years when we all thought You-Know-Who was dead. If it were this simple he would've figured it out. I know you despise my father, but he's not a fool."
"I never thought it would be simple, but we should still try. Which do you think has the best chance of working? It's your arm, after all."
Draco thought about it. "I'd rather go for the Mark directly. But can you think of any way we could practice beforehand? Because the Mark itself might be spelled somehow to be resistant. I'd like to know that the principle of partially Transfiguring a design would be effective before going for the real thing."
"You don't have any tattoos, do you? That would be the right kind of marking for a trial," Harry said. "Maybe I should have noticed last night, but I didn't."
"No, of course I don't have any. Getting an ear pierced got me in enough trouble." Draco fingered the tiny silver skull.
"But it looks good on you," said Harry, and then turned red.
A compliment on his looks from Harry? Astonishing. "Thanks," said Draco, feeling his own face grow hot. "Er, do you? Have any tattoos, that is, I know you don't have anything pierced." That Draco was sure he would have seen, but a tattoo could be missed, if its location were discreet.
Harry snorted. "There was a rumor going around Hogwarts last year that I had a Hippogriff tattooed on my chest. Ginny got a big rise out of the fourth-year girls by telling them it was actually a Hungarian Horntail. You've seen that neither's true. But... hang on." He held out his left arm. "See there, on the back of my hand, that bluish dot? Before I came to Hogwarts, when I attended a Muggle school, my cousin Dudley stabbed my hand with a biro one day and the ink marked me permanently. That's kind of like a tattoo, I think, or close enough for this. We could try altering it, see if it could be turned into a line instead of a dot, for instance."
Taking Harry's hand, Draco looked at the spot. "You'd be willing to be the experiment? That's very Gryffindor of you. And I mean that in the best way," he added. "Brave. Noble. You know."
"Yeah, I'll do it. Once we figure out what the spell should be, that is," said Harry, his face red once again. "So let's get out those books of Hermione's and do some work."
They were arguing over whether Permutatio or Reficio would be more likely to be effective when two loud pops signaled the return of Kreacher – Draco's chest nearly slipping from his spindly arms – and the appearance of Dobby as well.
"Harry Potter!" squealed Dobby. "What is you doing here, with him?"
Draco noticed with interest and some amusement that Dobby avoided speaking a Malfoy's name. To allow Harry to quietly ask Dobby to spy on Kreacher, as they had planned, he called Kreacher over to him.
"Kreacher has no trouble in finding Master Draco's things," the house-elf boasted. "How else may Kreacher serve?"
"You have done well for the house of Black," said Draco. "I need nothing else from you now, but when I do I will have Harry Potter summon you again." That had the right sound to it, implying that Draco was in control, not Harry.
It seemed to go over well with Kreacher, whose face crinkled up in a gloating leer. "Yes, Master Draco. Kreacher will wait for the chance to serve Mistress Black's grandson. He is happy to take the orders of a proper wizard." His obsequiousness was distasteful.
"Yes, I'm sure. Return to Hogwarts now, but do not tell anyone that you have seen either of us, do you understand?"
Kreacher wrung his hands. "Kreacher hears Master Draco's orders, but he must be told by Harry Potter to obey."
"Potter," Draco raised his voice to cut across Harry's conversation with Dobby, "tell Kreacher to do as I command."
"I told you before to do what he wants, and I haven't changed that order," said Harry to Kreacher.
A sly smile spread across the elf's face. "Kreacher will follow Master Draco's wishes."
"Not wishes, orders," Harry corrected. "If he tells you to do something, you will, just as if I had said it, but not otherwise. Do you understand me?"
Now Kreacher's expression returned to that of resentment which seemed to be its natural state. "Kreacher understands," he said sulkily, and vanished.
"Dobby?" Harry turned around.
"Yes, Harry Potter. Dobby will do all he can to help. Dobby will follow Kreacher all the time he is able." Dobby put both hands up to steady the absurdly towering stack of knitted hats that he wore, and like his fellow, disappeared with a crack that echoed from the stone of the buildings.
"Why all the hats?" Draco asked, baffled.
"Dobby's? Oh, Hermione was knitting hats and socks and hiding them around Gryffindor Tower, trying to free all the Hogwarts house-elves by getting them to pick up clothes accidentally. But they figured it out, and Dobby was the only one who would touch any of them, since he's free already. He likes to wear the hats all at once," Harry said.
Draco shook his head. "He was always an odd one, but I wouldn't have expected that. So he agreed to do as you asked."
"Yeah. He'll keep a watch on Kreacher; since the school is closed it shouldn't be too hard. Although there isn't much of anything Kreacher could do, I suppose, not really, but I'll feel better to know that if he goes running of to Bellatrix Lestrange, or someone, Dobby will tell me. He brought you the right trunk? Did he bring the key?"
"It doesn't have a key. Spelled to open only to me." Draco knelt down next to it, pulled out his wand, and tapped the brass keyhole. "Alohamora."
The lid sprang open to reveal a shining pile of coins: mostly golden Galleons, with a few Sickles and Knuts mixed in. "Good," said Draco, relieved. "That should last for quite awhile."
"It's going to be a little conspicuous, carrying that chest around with us," said Harry.
"True, I hadn't really thought about that." Draco ran his fingers through his hair, pondering.
"I know, we can use the Invisibility Cloak. Drape it over and use a levitation charm to float the trunk along," said Harry. "As long as we don't let it bump into any Muggles, that should work."
"You have an Invisibility Cloak?" Draco was impressed. Such cloaks were hard to come by, and very expensive. He wondered how Harry had acquired one.
"Yeah. You've seen it, actually, or rather you didn't see it, or me. On the Astronomy Tower, that night." Harry did not need to say which night he meant – Draco knew.
"Oh." He bit his lip. "Right. Er. Sounds like a good plan to me."
Harry dug around in his rucksack. "I'll put it over the trunk now, just in case any Muggles wander past. Not likely but it could happen. One of us can stay here while the other goes to get something to eat, then after lunch we'll try that Transfiguration on me."
"I'll fetch some sandwiches," Draco offered, although he was becoming tired of them and wished for a pumpkin pasty. Muggle taste in food seemed quite limited.
He purchased their lunch without incident, pleased to have sorted out the peculiar paper notes that the Muggles preferred for reasons unknown to sensible solid coins.
After they had eaten, Harry looked at Draco and said, "Ready to try? You should perform the spell, I think." He held out his hand, which trembled slightly as Draco took it.
The evidence that Harry, too, was nervous about this experiment gave Draco a curious feeling, combining relief that he was not alone in his apprehension with a certain disappointment that Harry was not impervious to it. He shook himself mentally. Of course Harry was not invulnerable to nervousness; Draco had seen him clearly worried when he was one of the Triwizard champions, back in fourth year, and just last night the appearance of that Welsh Green had visibly shaken him somewhat.
"If you want." Draco was nervous too. What if he somehow buggered up the spell and hurt Harry, and could not restore him? He pulled out his wand, but hesitated, running his palm over the polished boxwood to calm himself.
"Look, after losing all the bones in my arm to Professor Lockhart's incompetence, and having to have Madam Pomfrey restore them, I have complete confidence that you'll do better," said Harry. "Go on."
"Okay," said Draco, steeling his nerve. "Permutatio."
The blue dot on Harry's hand quivered, drawing itself out into a threadlike line that curled around into the shape of a P.
"Did you mean it to do that?" Harry asked, staring at his hand.
"I guess," said Draco. "P for Potter – it was the first thing that came to mind." Which was not quite true, and he was glad not to have created the shape that had originally popped into his head. Harry might not mind a P. He would have doubtless been disgusted to find a heart engraved on his skin. "D'you want me to change it back, now that we know the spell will work at least on an ordinary tattoo-type mark?"
"No, leave it for now," said Harry absently, his eyes still fixed on his hand. "I hardly felt a thing, by the way, just a little tickle. Are you ready for me to try it on you?"
Not really. "I just had a thought," said Draco. "You-Know-Who summons the Death Eaters by touching the Dark Mark on one of... us." He swallowed hard on the last word. "What if this Transfiguration attempt acts like that? We could be surrounded by Death Eaters within minutes."
"I hadn't thought about that, but you're right. What do you want to do, then?"
"Well," Draco said, "we could Apparate somewhere else, try the spell, then Apparate back."
"But if the orientation of the summons is onto the person touched, not the place where it's done, then that wouldn't help," said Harry, frowning. "They'd just come here. It would make more sense for it to be the person, really, or at least that seems more straightforward to me, not that I know how Voldemort thinks. I wonder... Hermione might have a better idea of how it works. She studied the Dark Mark when she was working out the Protean Charm to apply to the D.A. Galleons. But we won't see her and Ron again for three days."
"We could use your Galleon to contact her, ask her to come here, I suppose," said Draco reluctantly. He would rather postpone the whole thing until Wednesday, or longer, although he recognized that it would be shabby of him not to put in some effort and risk, when Hermione and Ron were working to help him out only at Harry's behest.
"I know. Charm the Galleon to say, 'Send Hedwig to Aberdeen.' I can write out a note for Hedwig to take back, then Hermione can reply to tell us what she knows, or if she doesn't know anything then she might have time to start finding out before Wednesday. And she'll probably be less annoyed than if we drag her up here," said Harry.
Draco got the impression that Harry did not especially want to see Hermione in person at the moment. He did not either. He nodded agreement, and Harry gave him the Galleon to charm.
When he had done so, they talked then for awhile. It would doubtless be evening before Hedwig arrived, fast flyer though Harry said she was, and it was still too early to go to King's Halls to their room. Draco lay on the grass with his head resting on Harry's legs, heedless of the dirt and insects and general messiness of the ground, and putting aside all thoughts of Voldemort and the Dark Mark and the danger they were both still in. An unfamiliar feeling washed through him, one that he was finally able to name when Harry smiled down at him and touched his cheek. Draco was happy.