No Light Without Shadows
by Draeconin
See Chapter One for disclaimer and details.
Chapter Nine
Harry's concentration was shot for the next several days as he struggled with his feelings. Although sad about Hedwig's death, he wasn't as broken up about it as he thought he might be. And although he was still upset with the foal who had mistaken her for a wild bird of prey, that anger was waning very quickly – more quickly even than he thought could be accounted for by the knowledge that it had been an honest mistake by an uninformed child.
No, it wasn't really the direct emotions he was dealing with, but the self-doubt brought about by the more-or-less lukewarm emotions that lingered. They had been sharp and clear when the event happened, and although a few days had passed, shouldn't they still be quite strong?
Harry wondered if this might be an indication that he was growing colder, less feeling, and on his way to becoming another dark lord.
"Harry! Pay attention!"
Draco was coaxing Harry through a mock formal dinner, teaching him the use of all the place settings and when to use them, how to cope with a boring or slighting table partner, and everything else that goes along with such an occasion.
It had taken Draco several weeks since he had insisted he was going to teach Harry wizarding ways before he had finally got Harry familiar with the day-to-day rules of social interaction in high society, including how to tell when one was being subtly insulted or cozened.
Draco had included in those lessons how to dress to look the part, which was more complicated than one might imagine, and Harry was still struggling with it. One did not dress the same way for a business luncheon as one did for a formal supper, which was also different from how one dressed for a formal afternoon tea. It seemed every type of occasion had at least a slightly different dress code. A person could flatter or insult another by how they dressed for such occasions, and one must keep in mind which they wished to accomplish, and to what degree. The more subtle details such as these were things that could only be learned with time and experience.
Teaching Harry the things that Draco had learned over the course of his lifetime and were almost second nature to him had been frustrating enough that the blond had to bite his tongue on many occasions in order to keep from insulting Harry's upbringing. But since Harry had asked for this training, he already knew quite well that his upbringing had been lacking. To insult Harry for it when the ex-Gryffindor was trying to correct the lack... Well, it just wouldn't do. Still, the habit was deeply ingrained, and sometimes difficult to control.
"Hmph!" Harry responded to Draco's admonition, with a small glare.
"Are you still pining over that white . . . owl?" Draco asked waspishly, barely changing the word from 'feather duster' at the last second.
Harry shook his head. "Not so much," he replied. "Just wondering why I don't care more than I do."
"What?" Draco incredulously exclaimed.
"She was a part of my life for five years. Then she gets killed, and... Well, I'm still a bit sad, but I thought I'd be more torn up about it."
"And this worries you," Draco said flatly.
"Shouldn't it?" Harry responded tensely. "Everyone's so concerned that I'll wind up being the next dark lord!"
Draco looked at Harry a bit strangely. "You think too much, Harry – and about the wrong things."
He got back to more imporatant matters. "Now as I was saying, when you use the finger bowl, one does not try to get their whole hand in: it's called a finger bowl for a reason – and then only the tips of the fingers. You then..."
Harry shook off his bleak thoughts, and redoubled his concentration on Draco's lesson.
"Hello, Harry."
The soft, shy voice took Harry by surprise.
"Hello, Neville," Harry replied. He had learnt not to show his reactions so blatantly as he used to, but he was feeling just a bit wary.
"How is Slytherin treating you?" Neville asked. "You look well," he added.
"I'm doing very well. Better than I thought, actually," Harry admitted, wondering if this was just a pleasant chat or if something more was up. "And you?"
Neville shrugged. "Not badly. Things aren't the same with you not around," he replied.
"Nothing much I can do about that," Harry said. Thank Merlin, he added to himself. He felt much more relaxed in Slytherin. Not so much because he felt safe or accepted there, because he didn't really, but because he didn't have to watch his every word and action; he didn't have to put on an act. He could be himself.
"You could come see us," Neville offered.
Harry shook his head. "I don't think I'd be very welcome," he replied, "but I appreciate the offer." He didn't mind the offer, but he had no intention of going back up there where he could be emotionally ambushed. But Neville had never wronged him, so he didn't feel right about being snide with the Gryffindor as he so wanted to do. This had all the earmarks of a Hermione plot. Neville's next words nearly confirmed that suspicion.
"Ron and Hermione feel badly about what they did," the Gryffindor said a bit hesitantly.
"Longbottom," came the cool, sneering tones of Draco Malfoy as he walked up to them.
And just in time, because Harry had been about to speak scornfully to Neville anyway. He sincerely doubted Neville's statement, since neither of his former friends were shy and would have tackled him anywhere they found him if they had truly wished to make amends.
Neville ducked his head, refusing to look at the blond.
"Be nice, Draco," Harry gently admonished before again addressing the shy boy.
"I don't do nice," Draco replied, but didn't say anything else.
Harry ignored the quip, and addressed Neville. "I haven't heard from Ron: not that I think it would matter much. And Hermione didn't strike me as being at all sincere when we spoke."
Neville nodded. "Some of the rest of us really miss you, though," he confessed, with a nervous glance at Draco.
"Well isn't that . . . special," Draco put in, unable to keep quiet any longer. Baiting Longbottom hadn't been anywhere near as fun as baiting Harry had once been – it was too easy – but he couldn't ignore an opening like that. Really, Draco thought, what was the Sorting Hat thinking? Longbottom should have been a Hufflepuff!
Neville blushed violently, but continued to ignore the blond. "Seamus, Dean and I, especially," he said, as though he hadn't been interrupted, "and Ginny, of course."
Harry frowned, undecided. On the one hand he'd been doing quite nicely without the lot of them, but he did have to admit that he rather missed Seamus' Irish wit, and at one time he'd gained a bit of pleasure from coaching Neville to be more outgoing. His feelings about Ginny were rather up in the air, what with her being Ron's sister, but she was definitely her own person, too. With a glance at Draco, he said, "Maybe we could all meet at 'The Three Broomsticks' next Hogsmeade weekend."
Draco frowned, but Neville's face lit up, creating mixed emotions in Harry's breast. He knew Draco would object, but he liked having made Neville happy.
"But," Harry continued, "only if Ronald Weasley and Granger are not there."
"But Harry," Neville began.
"You heard him, Longbottom," Draco interrupted in chilled tones, "although we're going to have a few words about this," he muttered with a glare in Harry's direction.
Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't think so," he replied coolly.
"Longbottom?" Draco hissed. "Gryffindors?"
"I was a Gryffindor, if you'll recall."
Draco glared at Neville, who was watching the interaction with fascination. "Piss off, Longbottom," he said. There was no way he wanted a Gryffindor – or anyone for that matter – listening to him and Harry argue.
Harry looked at Draco as though he was about to say something, then reconsidered. Turning to Neville, he said, "Perhaps I'll see you later. Draco and I have some things to . . . discuss."
The Gryffindor's eyes darted from one to the other, and his cheeks tinted. "Alright, Harry. Next Hogsmeade's, though?"
"Next Hogsmeade's," Harry replied decisively, with a nod.
"Oh, and Neville?" When the boy turned around to look at him questioningly, Harry added, "If Hermione put you up to that invitation, tell her she should do her own dirty work. You're better than that."
Neville's face tinted as he nodded and trotted off.
Before Neville was quite out of earshot, Draco turned back to Harry and said with barely constrained temper, "You were only a Gryffindork because you cheated!"
"How is putting up an argument cheating?" Harry asked with a glare.
Draco avoided answering the question and retorted, "You weren't a Gryffindork! You didn't belong there!"
Harry relaxed, and smirked at the blond. "You're right. So?"
The sudden lack of resistance threw Draco off balance, but although he quickly remembered what had started the argument, the slight delay was noted.
"So are you now sorry you're a Slytherin?" Draco accused.
Harry shrugged, but ignored the question to say, "Some of them are good people. I wouldn't want a steady diet of them, but..."
Draco made a face. "Thanks for the mental image, Potter."
Harry laughed. "You know what I mean."
"Yes, but why do you have to spend time with them?" Draco exclaimed exasperatedly.
Harry shrugged. "I don't. But like I said, some of them are good people. Why not give them a chance?"
"I hope you're not expecting me to go with you," Draco replied irritably.
Harry took Draco's face in his hands and kissed him soundly. When he pulled away, he smirked. "We'll see," he said.
"Mister Potter!"
Harry sighed. It just wasn't his day. First Neville, and now...
"Yes, Headmaster?" he asked with strained patience. He rather wished that Draco hadn't had to attend a lecture in another class. The blond could have helped remind him to keep calm.
"I'd like you to come up to my office at tea," the old man said.
"Why?"
"I think we should talk."
"I don't believe we have anything to talk about, Professor," Harry said easily, although merely the idea of a 'talk' in Dumbledore's office had his nerves on edge.
"We used to have some nice talks, Harry," Dumbledore said in hurt tones.
Harry let his distaste for the idea show as he replied, "The only talks I can recall us having in your office was you manipulating me into doing what you wanted, or trying to make me feel better about having done something you wanted. So what do you want?" Harry's eyes had now turned golden.
Albus shot Harry a hurt look. "It's about Black Mansion," he said.
"What of it?" Harry asked with strained patience.
The headmaster debated whether he should continue to press for a more private venue, or concede to Harry's insistence that their business be concluded now. He decided, in light of Harry's golden eyes, that catering to Harry's whim might be more politic. "I assume that it is still available for Order meetings?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why would you do that?" he asked aloofly, leaving it open for Dumbledore to guess whether he was referring to the headmaster's making an assumption, or putting into question his desire to use Black Mansion for Order meetings. "I thought you had vacated the premises when you assumed Bellatrix Lestrange would inherit?"
Albus nodded. "Yes, but the old meeting place was much more convenient," he stated.
"I'm sorry to say that it isn't available at the moment," Harry replied truthfully, although he wasn't the least bit sorry, and made that plain to the old man. "It's undergoing repairs and renovations."
The head of the Order of the Phoenix nodded sadly. "I see," he said.
Harry felt as though the headmaster had just called him a liar. "Perhaps you might stop by during the solstice hols to see it," he sneered. "I doubt the repairs will have been completed, but much should have been accomplished by that time."
"Is there something wrong with where you are now meeting," Harry asked, "or do you merely wish to keep a closer eye on me by intruding on my privacy?"
Dumbledore merely looked Harry in the eye, then turned and walked away, leaving Harry with the strange feeling that he'd both won, and lost.
Harry sat back in the chair in his room after his last class of the day and sighed as he tried to relax. It had been a trying day. Draco might or might not show up later, but if he did it would be another hour or so, since the blond had one more class than Harry today. Harry leant back and cast his eye around his room, just to make sure that nobody had broken in, in his absence, and that nothing had been disturbed. As he did, he noted a packet of papers on his desk that hadn't been there before.
Leaning forward without touching it, he looked it over. It appeared to be official papers from the goblins at Gringotts. Harry cast a revealing spell on the packet, and was relieved to find that the only spells on it were for protection of the material and to prevent unauthorised examination.
And so it was that when Draco walked in through the mirror, he found Harry in deep concentration as he perused the contents of those papers. Draco had just had a most enlightening conversation with Professor Snape, and wanted to talk about it. Actually, since Harry was involved, he had to talk about it. But just as he opened his mouth to break into Harry's concentration, there was a knock at the portal. Frowning at being interrupted, but relieved to be able to put off the conversation, Draco went to the door.
"Who's without?" he asked the portrait.
"Without what?" the portrait, a male Spanish naga, asked in a mild accent.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Who's knocking?" he asked impatiently.
"Oh! It's that Zabini chap," it replied. Blaise had been over enough times for it to get to know him.
Draco was mildly torn between sending Blaise away so he could continue his conversation, or accept the reprieve the other boy's presence represented. Actually, it wasn't much of a contest.
"Let him in," Draco ordered.
"I'm not your portal guardian," it replied aloofly.
Draco grit his teeth, knowing that arguing with the portrait would be a fruitless endeavour.
"Harry!" he called.
"Yes?"
"Blaise is out in the corridor, and your bloody portrait won't let him in!"
"Good!"
"What?" Draco asked in astonished disbelief.
"Well it would hardly be a good guardian if it allowed just anyone entrance, would it?" Harry replied.
"Ha!" the naga declared triumphantly.
Draco glared at it, but addressed Harry. "Well let him in, would you?"
Harry peered at him through his eyelashes. "Only if you ask nicely," he said.
Out in the corridor, Blaise was getting impatient. "You're sure they're in?" he asked the portrait.
"Oh, yes," the naga replied confidently.
"Are they shagging?"
Draco was rather awkwardly straddling one leg of Harry's wide-open lap, kissing his green-eyed lover while grasping Harry's erection through his clothing. Coming up for air, he rather seductively asked, "Was that nice enough? Will you let Blaise in now?"
"You are definitely getting shagged into the mattress later," Harry groaned.
Draco grinned. "I'm looking forward to it," he said truthfully. "Now – the portal?"
"You can let in 'that Zabini chap'," Harry called out to the portrait, quoting the naga's words back to him.
Draco looked affronted. "You heard all that? And didn't do anything?"
Harry grinned at him. "I have good hearing," he said, ignoring Draco's second point.
"Am I interrupting something?" Blaise asked a little too eagerly as he came in.
"If you're going to be obnoxious, Zabini, you can turn right around and leave now," Harry said.
Blaise gave him a 'look', but reeled himself in. He noticed Harry's physical condition though, and smirked.
"What are you wanting, Blaise?" Draco asked.
"Are you always over here?" their visitor inquired of the blond, obviously avoiding the subject.
"So you wanted to speak to me?" Harry asked in mild surprise. Usually the boy turned up to natter with Draco, Harry being included by default, since he was there. (And lately it did seem that Draco was spending more time in Harry's rooms than his own, despite his former worries about getting enough 'alone time'.)
Blaise nodded miserably. "It's about that bloody redheaded friend of yours," he admitted.
Draco groaned. "I know you have a weakness for redheads, but Weasley?" Draco interjected.
"You're interested in Ron?" Harry asked in astonishment.
Now a bit red-faced, Blaise nodded again. "You wouldn't happen to know if he swings our way, do you?" he asked.
Harry slowly shook his head. "I don't think so, but..." Harry's face took on a thoughtful look.
"What?" Blaise asked hopefully.
"Well, he's never really made a move on Hermione, has he?" Harry said.
"He took her to that bloody ball," Draco reminded them.
"No, Viktor Krum did," Harry replied.
"Maybe that's why he was angry then, don't you think?" Draco replied. "He was still glaring at them all evening, and jealousy rather speaks towards him being hetero."
Harry shook his head, denying it. "Not if he was only worried about his cover."
"You've lost it, mate," Blaise said, shaking his head in pretend sorrow. "As much as I'd like to believe it, that just doesn't make sense."
"Ron's had years to further a relationship with Hermione if he wanted to," Harry said, explaining his reasoning. "He hasn't, but he also hasn't dated elsewhere that anyone knows about. But he makes just enough noise about Hermione to make everyone think he's interested in her, doesn't he? Alright, then along comes Victor Krum, and Hermione's interested in him. If she actually developed a relationship with him, then Ron's cover would be gone and he'd have to either actually start dating someone else, or develop another cover. And Ron's nothing, if not lazy – at least where certain things are concerned. There's a lot less effort involved in trying to 'win' Hermione back from Krum than to start again from scratch, isn't there?"
"Harry," Draco said cautiously, "that's very convoluted reasoning, even for... Well, for anyone!"
"But it's possible," Harry insisted calmly.
"But hardly probable," Draco rebutted.
"At any rate," Harry said, turning back to Blaise, "you'll never know if you don't try."
Blaise just looked at them in disbelief, and wondered whatever he'd been thinking. Whatever it was, he had been expecting more sense to come of it.
They talked for a bit longer, then Blaise made his excuses, and escaped.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Draco accused Harry.
"Did what?" Harry asked, looking innocent.
"You made Blaise think he actually had a chance with Weasley."
Harry grinned. "Served him right, trying to poke his nose into our sex life," he said.
Draco looked at him for several seconds before breaking into a grin himself, shaking his head at Harry. "The Hat knew what it was doing, putting you in Slytherin," he said.
"And now," Harry said with a smirk, getting up and advancing on his boyfriend, "I believe something was said earlier about pounding you into a mattress?"
Draco returned the smirk and laid back on the couch he'd been sitting on. If he knew Harry – and he should, by this time – they wouldn't be getting as far as a bed.
o~~~~~~~~~~~~~o
Betas: Ishe Leigh, Sheree Spataro (who also brainstorm with me on occasion). Brit-picker: Andy
