HP: Alliances 2
"Blaise, just say it." Harry was ticking with anxiety.
"His dad hit him hard-"
"Really? I thought it was a love tap," Harry interrupted with sarcasm, "skip the intro."
"His brain hit his skull and he doesn't remember anything." Blaise said it all in one breath.
"That's okay though, it's almost good that he doesn't remember it. He shouldn't have to remember it."
"No, I don't mean that he doesn't remember his dad beating him. I mean he doesn't remember anything. He had to be told his own name."
As if the room suddenly went into slow motion Harry slid to the floor. "It could be worse," he said from down on the floor. "He would hate it if he had become retarded, or if he was mentally sane and capable but couldn't talk. He would be miserable if he was paralyzed. Things could be worse." He kept nodding as he tried to convince himself that the bottom hadn't fallen out of his world. "He doesn't remember anything?"
"He remembers all of the magic," said Blaise slowly as he tried to calculate Harry's reaction, "He could transfigure a hamster into a dining set if he liked but he has to wear Velcro shoes as he doesn't remember how to tie the laces of his boots. But the medi-wizards said he could get all of his memories back, it'll just take a while."
"Maybe it's for the best," said Harry as he turned to pack, "he gets a fresh start with no one and nothing to hold him back."
A long silence stretched between them. For one it was filled with sadness and grief and for the other it was sheer rage. "Excuse me?" asked Blaise slowly. "Ya know, I trusted you. People told me not to, I got put down for being openly friendly with you. And I did it all because I liked you. How dare you? Was this all a game? 'no one to hold him back'? You used him and now you don't have to dump him because he doesn't even remember you." He sighed angrily, "How convenient for you." Harry spun around and hit the boy in the jaw so brutally that Blaise hit the opposite wall.
"Don't you dare impugn my honor, boy." Harry laughed as he realized that he had just quoted a Disney movie. And then manically added, "You're the first person I've hit in… forever. I don't remember the last time I hit someone. It must be years ago now. Recently I've just had to point and mutter and people drop down dead. Hurray for magic. I told him I would protect him. He scoffed and said he could get better muscle. But I told him I would. And then his dad beats him up. It's so barbaric, and crass, and easy. And I didn't protect him. Me, the boy who grew up with muggles couldn't stop a muggle assault on his lover. The boy who fucking lived can't take care of his lover. I failed him."
Blaise considered getting up but realized that it was a bad idea when he noticed that Harry's eyes had gone blue. Very few wizards were actually mages. Mages were perfectly in tune with nature, able to bend it to their will. They didn't need wands, didn't need words, or potions. There hadn't been a mage in over two hundred years. Only a true and pure being could ever be a mage. Despite his power Voldemort never made the cut, he had tried to force himself to become one, it nearly killed him. Harry had broken the pattern. No one had known about his gift until the day Hermione, Cho, and Ginny died. Harry had suddenly given up on all the rules of conduct. Everything cultured flew out the window and he was left in the most base and pure form. Without a word or movement a shield had gone up around his small group. The battle field exploded while the children stood unscathed. Voldemort was the only thing left on the decimated plane. Harry had meet his red eyes with a blue, innocent gaze. And for the second time he made it into the history books, no longer a one hit wonder.
"Harry," he said slowly, trying to placate the boy while still on the floor.
"Shut up. Don't deny it. It's my fault. I should have had a vision, should have known he was in trouble. How is it that I can know when Voldemort is torturing total strangers and yet I can't even sense it when he's in the presence of the most important person in my life?" He looked up, as if talking to god, or the fates, "How should I fight your war if you won't let me save the people I need?" he shook his head with disgust, ire, and self loathing. "His father wouldn't have done this if it weren't for me and my stupid war. If Draco had stayed quiet, not spoken up about his stand on dark magic then his dad wouldn't have touched him. But Draco decided he was gonna be all noble and tell the whole world that he was a good guy. But then Lucius Malfoy had to take his own stand and prove to his master where he stood. He couldn't let his own son run around disgracing his name. If I had kept my distance, if I hadn't convinced him to switch sides he would be fine now."
"He would be a Death Eater or he'd be dead already," corrected Blaise.
"Maybe this is for the best," repeated Harry, "He gets a fresh start. He isn't on any side, he doesn't have any idea there are sides. And he can do whatever he wants and he'll be so much safer. Maybe he'll be happier."
"Yeah, right." Said Blaise sarcastically as he stood, suddenly angry again and therefore stupid as well. "Maybe he'll be happy. Maybe you'll be a coward, maybe you'll be a bastard for taking away his choice, maybe this isn't up to you! Close the door on him if you need to but don't lock it, let him in if he wants that. Don't lock him out, he needs you too fucking much. And if you force him away you'll be hurting him more than his father. He loves you!"
"No," said Harry softly as his eyes bled back to green. His voice was tired and hoarse. "First of all it would be 'loved' as in the past test and second he never did."
"He told me he did."
"I don't care what he told you. Leave, go, just get out of here. I'm sick of this topic and I won't defend myself to you. I have bigger fish to fry."
"But I'm supposed to take you to the castle."
"I'll come later, there are things I need to do before leaving the muggle world. Get. Out."
Blaise left, afraid of his friend. He shouldn't have accused him of not loving Draco, it had been stupid. They all had their own ways of coping. But he was still disgusted that Harry was just going to act as though he and Draco were nothing more than acquaintances. He shut the door behind him, he apparated to Hogsmeade, and took the floo route int the Three Broomsticks to get back to school. As he arrived in Dumbledore's office he just shook his head at the expectant man. The favored son hadn't returned home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry was on edge. His eyes were a ticking time bomb. The very minute the door shut behind Blaise he burst into tears. He had prayed, damn it. He hadn't prayed since he was six years old, he hadn't asked the higher powers for anything. He fought in their war. But they couldn't even take care of a boy? His boy.
And he offered every thing to them, he offered his own life, legs, sanity. All he asked in return was that they watched over his Draco. And did they? No, because they knew Harry would fight for them no matter what. It wasn't fair, he got his hands dirty killing their enemies, and they didn't even have the good grace to protect Harry's love. He knew, in theory, that they were all expendable. He was the only one who could kill Voldemort, everyone else could die, they weren't important. But how was he supposed to do their work without his lifelines? Hermione, Cho, Ginny they had all been taken from him, Sirius, his parents, Cedric. Well he was done doing their bidding they could give him his Co back or they could go hang themselves. Co would get his memories back or they would have to find a new champion, a second boy who subsisted. Silently, he screamed the warning while looking at the ceiling. No words came from his mouth but he knew he didn't have to speak aloud for them to understand his anger.
He felt so petty though, his lover was alive and well. Did it matter that he didn't remember Harry? Was Harry just being a selfish git? Maybe it was true, maybe Draco could be happy in a new life. Maybe he was lying to himself. He had tried to take the high road. He had tried to say that he would let Draco go. That Draco no longer had to be connected to him and his freak-ness. He had made an attempt at being the big man, it was his way of promising not to hurt his boy again.
He didn't want to be an over emotional girl. You see those muggle girls at the train station. Their lover is leaving, perhaps he's going back to his wife. And these girls cling to the man's lapels and cry. And it doesn't make anything better, it doesn't make the man stay. He has to go home, his son is turning five and he promised his wife he would be there. So in the end the girl gets nothing, the guy feels guilty, and Timmy's daddy is ten minutes late and has missed the jelly and custard. Harry didn't want to make Draco feel guilty.
It wasn't Draco's fault that he couldn't remember the dark boy. But Harry knew him and knew that Draco would feel guilty if he knew. He would feel that he had let Harry down. And then Draco would grow resentful that Harry knew the old him while he himself did not. He wanted Draco to be happy and safe. And what did he get in return? An empty bed, a stranger, and a best friend who thought he was a selfish, cowardly bastard.
"I wish you were here, Sirius." He whispered, "You always knew what to do. . . no you didn't, but you always helped me to figure it out in the end. I need a adult." A bitter laugh fell out of his mouth, stunted and angry. He could kill twelve dozen people but he still wanted a parent.
And as a sob escaped him his mirror shattered. He had picked up the mirror in Diagon Alley as it was the only mirror he ever met that didn't comment on his hair, or make fun of him when he wore eyeliner for Draco. The voice of a thirty year old man emanated from the broken glass, "Fuck man, that hurt."
"I'm so sorry," sobbed Harry but the mirror was pretty sure that the apology wasn't for him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Where's Harry?" asked Dumbledore after a moment of hesitation.
"He's packing and will come in his own sweet time," said Blaise with muted anger, he knew he had been out of line. But how dare that *boy* decide what was best for Draco? "Cun-"
"A word, Mr. Zabini?" asked Snape successfully cutting off his ward's fowl mouth. He dragged the boy outside and said softly with a smirk, "So have you and our mighty hero had a falling out?" Blaise told him in a malicious current of words all that had happened in Privet Drive. His vitriolic litany had more words therein than Severus had ever heard from the boy. Snape stopped smiling, 'Dear god, I'm sympathizing with Harry Bloody Potter. Don't you see? He's being adult." Severus felt sick. "He's being *righteous*." A shudder ran through him as the word soured on his tongue. His mind needed purging if he was siding with a Gryffindor over a child from his own house.
"How can you say that? Harry is the key to unlocking Drake's memories."
"Yes, he is," Severus gave a small smile, "so you're going to do what we Slytherins do best and make sure that Draco knows the truth by the end of the day."
"What we do best?"
"Connive," Severus said as though it was as obvious as the nose on his face. "Oh," he said slowly as his visage went sullen again, "you should apologize to Potter." He shuddered again at the idea of a Slytherin supplicating himself to Dumbledore's golden boy. "It would make Draco happy, and you and Potter are. . . friends," he said finally and walked back into the office with the student hot on his heels.
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"You realize of course that you are setting the world's record for slowest packing job ever, right?"
"Of course I had to buy a smart-arse mirror," muttered Harry as he gathered his things up and placed them in his trunk. Harry looked at the mirror and the veins of the broken bled together and healed the pane.
"Thanks, though that was illegal. But so is most of what you've done over the last few weeks. The sooner you pack the sooner we see our boy."
"You are the only possessive mirror I've ever met. I feel blessed." He said dryly as he slammed the lid shut and stood slowly, "I am so scared."
The mirror just sighed; it had no reply for that.
next
"His dad hit him hard-"
"Really? I thought it was a love tap," Harry interrupted with sarcasm, "skip the intro."
"His brain hit his skull and he doesn't remember anything." Blaise said it all in one breath.
"That's okay though, it's almost good that he doesn't remember it. He shouldn't have to remember it."
"No, I don't mean that he doesn't remember his dad beating him. I mean he doesn't remember anything. He had to be told his own name."
As if the room suddenly went into slow motion Harry slid to the floor. "It could be worse," he said from down on the floor. "He would hate it if he had become retarded, or if he was mentally sane and capable but couldn't talk. He would be miserable if he was paralyzed. Things could be worse." He kept nodding as he tried to convince himself that the bottom hadn't fallen out of his world. "He doesn't remember anything?"
"He remembers all of the magic," said Blaise slowly as he tried to calculate Harry's reaction, "He could transfigure a hamster into a dining set if he liked but he has to wear Velcro shoes as he doesn't remember how to tie the laces of his boots. But the medi-wizards said he could get all of his memories back, it'll just take a while."
"Maybe it's for the best," said Harry as he turned to pack, "he gets a fresh start with no one and nothing to hold him back."
A long silence stretched between them. For one it was filled with sadness and grief and for the other it was sheer rage. "Excuse me?" asked Blaise slowly. "Ya know, I trusted you. People told me not to, I got put down for being openly friendly with you. And I did it all because I liked you. How dare you? Was this all a game? 'no one to hold him back'? You used him and now you don't have to dump him because he doesn't even remember you." He sighed angrily, "How convenient for you." Harry spun around and hit the boy in the jaw so brutally that Blaise hit the opposite wall.
"Don't you dare impugn my honor, boy." Harry laughed as he realized that he had just quoted a Disney movie. And then manically added, "You're the first person I've hit in… forever. I don't remember the last time I hit someone. It must be years ago now. Recently I've just had to point and mutter and people drop down dead. Hurray for magic. I told him I would protect him. He scoffed and said he could get better muscle. But I told him I would. And then his dad beats him up. It's so barbaric, and crass, and easy. And I didn't protect him. Me, the boy who grew up with muggles couldn't stop a muggle assault on his lover. The boy who fucking lived can't take care of his lover. I failed him."
Blaise considered getting up but realized that it was a bad idea when he noticed that Harry's eyes had gone blue. Very few wizards were actually mages. Mages were perfectly in tune with nature, able to bend it to their will. They didn't need wands, didn't need words, or potions. There hadn't been a mage in over two hundred years. Only a true and pure being could ever be a mage. Despite his power Voldemort never made the cut, he had tried to force himself to become one, it nearly killed him. Harry had broken the pattern. No one had known about his gift until the day Hermione, Cho, and Ginny died. Harry had suddenly given up on all the rules of conduct. Everything cultured flew out the window and he was left in the most base and pure form. Without a word or movement a shield had gone up around his small group. The battle field exploded while the children stood unscathed. Voldemort was the only thing left on the decimated plane. Harry had meet his red eyes with a blue, innocent gaze. And for the second time he made it into the history books, no longer a one hit wonder.
"Harry," he said slowly, trying to placate the boy while still on the floor.
"Shut up. Don't deny it. It's my fault. I should have had a vision, should have known he was in trouble. How is it that I can know when Voldemort is torturing total strangers and yet I can't even sense it when he's in the presence of the most important person in my life?" He looked up, as if talking to god, or the fates, "How should I fight your war if you won't let me save the people I need?" he shook his head with disgust, ire, and self loathing. "His father wouldn't have done this if it weren't for me and my stupid war. If Draco had stayed quiet, not spoken up about his stand on dark magic then his dad wouldn't have touched him. But Draco decided he was gonna be all noble and tell the whole world that he was a good guy. But then Lucius Malfoy had to take his own stand and prove to his master where he stood. He couldn't let his own son run around disgracing his name. If I had kept my distance, if I hadn't convinced him to switch sides he would be fine now."
"He would be a Death Eater or he'd be dead already," corrected Blaise.
"Maybe this is for the best," repeated Harry, "He gets a fresh start. He isn't on any side, he doesn't have any idea there are sides. And he can do whatever he wants and he'll be so much safer. Maybe he'll be happier."
"Yeah, right." Said Blaise sarcastically as he stood, suddenly angry again and therefore stupid as well. "Maybe he'll be happy. Maybe you'll be a coward, maybe you'll be a bastard for taking away his choice, maybe this isn't up to you! Close the door on him if you need to but don't lock it, let him in if he wants that. Don't lock him out, he needs you too fucking much. And if you force him away you'll be hurting him more than his father. He loves you!"
"No," said Harry softly as his eyes bled back to green. His voice was tired and hoarse. "First of all it would be 'loved' as in the past test and second he never did."
"He told me he did."
"I don't care what he told you. Leave, go, just get out of here. I'm sick of this topic and I won't defend myself to you. I have bigger fish to fry."
"But I'm supposed to take you to the castle."
"I'll come later, there are things I need to do before leaving the muggle world. Get. Out."
Blaise left, afraid of his friend. He shouldn't have accused him of not loving Draco, it had been stupid. They all had their own ways of coping. But he was still disgusted that Harry was just going to act as though he and Draco were nothing more than acquaintances. He shut the door behind him, he apparated to Hogsmeade, and took the floo route int the Three Broomsticks to get back to school. As he arrived in Dumbledore's office he just shook his head at the expectant man. The favored son hadn't returned home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry was on edge. His eyes were a ticking time bomb. The very minute the door shut behind Blaise he burst into tears. He had prayed, damn it. He hadn't prayed since he was six years old, he hadn't asked the higher powers for anything. He fought in their war. But they couldn't even take care of a boy? His boy.
And he offered every thing to them, he offered his own life, legs, sanity. All he asked in return was that they watched over his Draco. And did they? No, because they knew Harry would fight for them no matter what. It wasn't fair, he got his hands dirty killing their enemies, and they didn't even have the good grace to protect Harry's love. He knew, in theory, that they were all expendable. He was the only one who could kill Voldemort, everyone else could die, they weren't important. But how was he supposed to do their work without his lifelines? Hermione, Cho, Ginny they had all been taken from him, Sirius, his parents, Cedric. Well he was done doing their bidding they could give him his Co back or they could go hang themselves. Co would get his memories back or they would have to find a new champion, a second boy who subsisted. Silently, he screamed the warning while looking at the ceiling. No words came from his mouth but he knew he didn't have to speak aloud for them to understand his anger.
He felt so petty though, his lover was alive and well. Did it matter that he didn't remember Harry? Was Harry just being a selfish git? Maybe it was true, maybe Draco could be happy in a new life. Maybe he was lying to himself. He had tried to take the high road. He had tried to say that he would let Draco go. That Draco no longer had to be connected to him and his freak-ness. He had made an attempt at being the big man, it was his way of promising not to hurt his boy again.
He didn't want to be an over emotional girl. You see those muggle girls at the train station. Their lover is leaving, perhaps he's going back to his wife. And these girls cling to the man's lapels and cry. And it doesn't make anything better, it doesn't make the man stay. He has to go home, his son is turning five and he promised his wife he would be there. So in the end the girl gets nothing, the guy feels guilty, and Timmy's daddy is ten minutes late and has missed the jelly and custard. Harry didn't want to make Draco feel guilty.
It wasn't Draco's fault that he couldn't remember the dark boy. But Harry knew him and knew that Draco would feel guilty if he knew. He would feel that he had let Harry down. And then Draco would grow resentful that Harry knew the old him while he himself did not. He wanted Draco to be happy and safe. And what did he get in return? An empty bed, a stranger, and a best friend who thought he was a selfish, cowardly bastard.
"I wish you were here, Sirius." He whispered, "You always knew what to do. . . no you didn't, but you always helped me to figure it out in the end. I need a adult." A bitter laugh fell out of his mouth, stunted and angry. He could kill twelve dozen people but he still wanted a parent.
And as a sob escaped him his mirror shattered. He had picked up the mirror in Diagon Alley as it was the only mirror he ever met that didn't comment on his hair, or make fun of him when he wore eyeliner for Draco. The voice of a thirty year old man emanated from the broken glass, "Fuck man, that hurt."
"I'm so sorry," sobbed Harry but the mirror was pretty sure that the apology wasn't for him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Where's Harry?" asked Dumbledore after a moment of hesitation.
"He's packing and will come in his own sweet time," said Blaise with muted anger, he knew he had been out of line. But how dare that *boy* decide what was best for Draco? "Cun-"
"A word, Mr. Zabini?" asked Snape successfully cutting off his ward's fowl mouth. He dragged the boy outside and said softly with a smirk, "So have you and our mighty hero had a falling out?" Blaise told him in a malicious current of words all that had happened in Privet Drive. His vitriolic litany had more words therein than Severus had ever heard from the boy. Snape stopped smiling, 'Dear god, I'm sympathizing with Harry Bloody Potter. Don't you see? He's being adult." Severus felt sick. "He's being *righteous*." A shudder ran through him as the word soured on his tongue. His mind needed purging if he was siding with a Gryffindor over a child from his own house.
"How can you say that? Harry is the key to unlocking Drake's memories."
"Yes, he is," Severus gave a small smile, "so you're going to do what we Slytherins do best and make sure that Draco knows the truth by the end of the day."
"What we do best?"
"Connive," Severus said as though it was as obvious as the nose on his face. "Oh," he said slowly as his visage went sullen again, "you should apologize to Potter." He shuddered again at the idea of a Slytherin supplicating himself to Dumbledore's golden boy. "It would make Draco happy, and you and Potter are. . . friends," he said finally and walked back into the office with the student hot on his heels.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You realize of course that you are setting the world's record for slowest packing job ever, right?"
"Of course I had to buy a smart-arse mirror," muttered Harry as he gathered his things up and placed them in his trunk. Harry looked at the mirror and the veins of the broken bled together and healed the pane.
"Thanks, though that was illegal. But so is most of what you've done over the last few weeks. The sooner you pack the sooner we see our boy."
"You are the only possessive mirror I've ever met. I feel blessed." He said dryly as he slammed the lid shut and stood slowly, "I am so scared."
The mirror just sighed; it had no reply for that.
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