Warnings: mentions of domestic violence, fighting.
AN-I'm not sure why my line breaks aren't working on FFN anymore, but this is mainly here so the damn thing will stay in place.
CHAPTER 52
Dangerous Mistakes
2 FEBRUARY
Pink hearts and flowers had already begun to make an appearance around the castle. Harry held them in as much disdain as always, and yet, he wanted to mark his first Valentine's Day as a bonded man in some romantic fashion. Severus would sneer at hearts and cupids, but perhaps he wouldn't mind a fresh bouquet of flowers—particularly rare, exotic flowers he could use in potions. Maybe Harry would get some of those Dewdrops of Diana just to be a smartarse.
Well, it wasn't a bad idea, though Harry would find some other flower to give him. Teasing was all well and good, but reminding Severus of his former abusive behaviour might really hurt him. He would have to make do with some other ingredient bouquet. Severus needed a new clasp for his hair, too. A nice silver one would look good with his colouring. Hmm. Perhaps Harry could send Hedwig out after one later. If he ever found a minute to think.
With a sigh, he headed off from the DA meeting and straight to the empty classroom he had established as his meeting place for Malfoy. Gods, another night he wouldn't be home until past midnight. He wouldn't have much time to love his husband, hadn't since the DA had started and Severus had begun stocking the Infirmary and Order in preparation for the 'end of the year catastrophe.' Between that, Harry's and Severus' work for school, and their work on the anti-horcrux charm, soul banishing curse, and Harry's 'special delivery' for Lucius Malfoy, they hardly ever had a moment to spend together as a couple. Harry carried a dull ache in his chest most days, the sign that his distance from his husband was again straining the bond.
At least this time, he didn't need to worry about it killing them. It would only drive them to a sexual frenzy if they didn't do something about it soon.
Then again, if they lost control in public, that might just have the same effect in the end.
With a shudder, he made a note to train Draco earlier tomorrow and spend the rest of the night making love to Severus and settling their bond. He missed his husband anyway.
On the way up from the dungeons, Harry had the thought that he might stop in the Chamber and grab the next few volumes of Slytherin's works. If the man had expanded on his soul research during his life, it might help Harry develop his anti-horcrux spell. And the faster he finished it, the faster they could end the war and put this chaos behind them.
Well, if they survived.
Harry suppressed a shiver of foreboding and forced his attention back to the task at hand. They had to survive. He couldn't stand this life without Severus, and Severus would go mad without him.
He turned towards Myrtle's loo and froze outside the door. Quiet sniffles and sobs escaped the loo—nothing new, with the number of times Myrtle indulged in tears of self-pity—but this didn't sound like the perpetually-sorrowful ghost. The absence of floods and ear-splitting wails was indication enough of a new presence, but the masculine quality of what few sounds did reach Harry's ears convinced him he had stumbled on someone else releasing their grief. He hesitated, unsure if he should turn away and let them grieve in peace, but a soft whimper of pain decided him. He knew that voice.
"Draco." Harry braced himself and stepped into the loo.
Draco leaned on the middle tap, tears dripping into the basin below, shoulders shaking with sobs. A dark purple bruise reached from his temple to his mouth, and crimson drops spilled from his lips, mixing with tears and turning the white porcelain pink. Harry winced and stood beside him.
"Hey," he said in a soft, sad voice. "How bad is it this time?"
Draco winced. "N-not as bad."
"Let me see."
With a sniffle, Draco turned and let Harry run his diagnostics. Besides the obvious, Harry found only minor bruising on his left wrist. With a sigh, he conjured a seat for Draco and guided him into it, healing the boy with his usual gentle touch.
"Do you want to tell me why your dad beat the shite out of you this time?"
Draco sucked in a sharp breath. "You… how do you… I never said…."
"No. I figured it out for myself." Harry healed Draco's lip with gentle hands and gave him a dose of healing draught. "You know I care about you, right? I'll protect you, if you let me."
Draco dropped his head. "I know."
"So why'd you get hit this time?"
"I… I'm not cruel enough, apparently."
From that and his surface thoughts, Harry gleaned that Lucius had beat Draco because he wasn't subjugating Harry's will to his own, even if the other half of his plan appeared to have worked.
"Well, he's right. You're not. But that should be a good thing." Harry brushed Draco's hair back from his forehead and healed the bruise on his temple. "Please, Draco. Please, you've got to get away from this. It's not as bad this time, but next time… I don't know. It was so awful last time. I'm really scared for you."
Draco scoffed, tears shining on his lashes, and brushed off Harry's hand. "You don't understand. You can't understand! The precious saviour has everyone bowing at his feet. The whole world wants you to succeed." He jerked to his feet and paced, fury and despair sharp in his aura. "The whole world wants to see me burn! Even the other purebloods hate the Malfoys. I… I'm alone."
"You're not." Harry laid a hand on Draco's. "You're not alone. Let me help you. Please. I… I understand far more than you realise."
Draco snarled and ripped his hand away. "Bullshite! Golden boy, you have no idea what it means to be so… so trapped."
"Draco!" Harry reached for him. "Please, I do. I really do. I—"
"Just leave me alone, Potter!"
With a broken snarl, Draco pushed past Harry and ran out of the loo. Harry sighed and leaned against the wall, kicking himself for his insensitivity. Of course Draco would think him to be a pampered, adored saviour. The headmaster had encouraged that image so long, and Britain's alternating hero worship and hatred did nothing to discourage it. Maybe he should talk more about his abuse—maybe if Draco realised Harry really did know, he would be more willing to accept his help.
And yet, until the boy gave some solid indication that he was ready to leave the Death Eaters, Harry couldn't risk it. Gods. What could he do?
Myrtle popped her head above a stall and stared at Harry. "That didn't go so well."
Harry snorted wryly. "No. How long were you listening?"
"I've been here the whole time. Just because no one notices me…."
Harry shook his head. "Please don't say anything about what you saw. Not about me and not about Draco. We could both be killed."
Myrtle nodded. "I won't. But if you are killed…." She tittered and turned red.
Harry fought an embarrassed blush and coughed into his hand. "Um… Myrtle, h-haven't you heard the rumours about me?"
She smirked. "Of course, but I don't care. I just want to look at you."
Harry flushed to his ears and peeled himself off the wall. "Oh. Uh… t-thank you?" He edged away, revulsion churning in his gut. "I better go find Draco and make sure he's okay. I'll… see you later."
After this, the next volumes of Slytherin's works could wait until Myrtle wasn't hanging about. Dear Merlin.
~SSHP~
Harry searched for Draco manually through all the common places, but eventually had to assume the boy had gone back to his dorm room. He returned home, still worried. Severus was grading essays in his office, so Harry just gave his husband a brief kiss and a hello, and went to check his map for Draco. Seeing the boy's name marker within the bounds of his room with Blaise alongside relieved Harry's worry. Blaise would help him.
With a sigh, Harry guided his familiar off of his neck and laid the snake in his terrarium. ~Have a nap, Jabardi. Or you may play about the nest. I have work for school to do.~
Jabardi coiled up on his sunning rock. ~I will rest, Master.~
~Have a good sleep then.~ Harry magicked a bit of water into his terrarium and went to work on his latest essay for Transfiguration, a study of the effects of animal transfiguration on the human body. Harry had no doubt he would outscore the class on this essay. He hadn't studied anatomy and physiology all year for nothing.
At least he needn't worry about Hermione being angry with him about it any longer. He shared his notes with her now, too.
Just then, Harry's DA coin went off with Hermione's name, and he wondered if she had somehow heard his thoughts.
"Harry, go after Ron this instant! He heard me asking Parvati about her Zacharias watch, and he's gone to—just hurry! We can't catch him!"
"Shite!" Harry Summoned the map again. "Find Ronald Weasley!" The map flashed red over a pair of footprints racing down the fifth floor corridor towards the staircases, Hermione's and Parvati's tracks following at a fast clip.
"Damn! Jabardi, I've got to go!" He bolted to the floo, spat out the closest exit he could think of—'Professor Flitwick's Office, Hogwarts!'—and sprinted into the stunned professor's office. "Sorry, sir! Emergency, gotta go!"
Harry dashed out of Flitwick's office almost before he'd finished speaking and sprinted towards the staircases. He had to go down one floor to catch Ron, but as the boy had to go down three to reach the Hufflepuff dorms, Harry hoped he had enough time to find him before all hell broke loose.
But Ron wasn't in the stairwell.
"What's gone wrong now?" He prayed the girls had managed to stun the prat and jerked out his map again. Ron's marker was still flashing red, in the hallway a few metres before the stairwell… and Smith's marker stood just under it.
"Bloody hell! Mischief managed!" The map cleared, and Harry shoved it in his pocket before racing after his former best friend.
Severus' worry flickered in the bond as Harry reached the stairwell.
[Sorry, love. Ron found out about Smith and he's—] Harry gasped as voices—shouts—became audible just outside the stairwell. [Yes, they're fighting! Send Professor McGonagall to the fifth floor outside the stairwell, please!]
A wave of affirmation spread through the bond, Severus' assurance he would comply, and Harry sped off after the idiots. He turned the corner to find Smith cowering under a shower of fists, hexes, and curses even Harry had to appreciate. Damn. Ron had gone utterly mental. No wonder the girls couldn't catch him.
"Harry!" Hermione called him and dragged his attention back to the situation at hand. "Help us! He's too fast."
"Right!" Harry ignored his wand and charged into the fray, grabbing Ron by the back of the neck and slamming him down. A flick of his hand stunned him. "You idiot! What do you think you're doing?"
Smith stood on shaky legs and rubbed a bloody lip. "I'll make sure you pay for this unprovoked assault, Weasley. Potter, you saw it."
Harry turned a snarl on Smith. "Get lost, you slimy bastard. I know what you're doing to Ginny, so don't try to act like I'm on your side."
Smith scowled. "You know nothing. She's fine."
"Uh-huh. That's why she's wearing thicker makeup and smells of bruise paste these days, I'm sure." Harry stabbed his wand between Smith's eyes. "Last warning. Get lost."
With his trainer and the best fighter in the school staring him down, Smith showed his true colours and sprinted off like the coward he was. Harry scowled after him, then woke Ron up and heaved him to his feet with a sigh.
Ron tried to fight him off. "Lemme go! The bastard's hurting her!"
"Ron!" Harry grabbed him and threw him against the wall. "Listen, you bloody idiot. We know! We know he's hurting her. We were trying to keep her safe and show her she had the strength to leave him on her own. And you just shot that all to hell and back by attacking him like this!"
Ron snarled. "I gotta—she's my sister! Gotta get her away."
Hermione shouted, "Stop, Ron! It has to be her choice or she'll just go right back to him."
"And she won't leave now either," said Parvati. "We're doing all we can to protect her—why do you think we haven't left them alone? But now we're going to look like the enemy all because you can't control your bloody temper!"
"But—"
"Mister Weasley," came McGonagall's sternest tones, "fighting is strictly prohibited at Hogwarts. You will serve a week's worth of detentions with me, every night after dinner, and I am taking fifty points from Gryffindor."
"But he's beating my sister!"
McGonagall crossed her arms over her chest. "What proof do you have?"
Ron swallowed hard. "Well, I heard them talking about it, and she's been wearing heavy makeup and bruise paste…."
"And you have definitive proof that Mister Smith is the one who harmed her?"
"I… well, it's obvious, innit?"
McGonagall sighed. "No, Mister Weasley, it is not. Not to the Wizengamot. And until we have such proof—until Miss Weasley comes forward or Smith is caught in the act—attacking her abuser will only cause her to be injured further, if it is true that Smith is abusing her."
"It is," Harry said with a grim nod. "If the Wizengamot accepted Telepathic evidence, I'd have him, but they don't. Which is why we were all trying to keep her safe by watching over her all the time."
"Yes, I am aware," said McGonagall. "Your friend reported the situation to the professors as soon as he became aware of it. We have been watching Smith ever since, but he has shown no overt signs of abuse—not in public at any rate. And now we will need to worry about Smith pressing charges against Mister Weasley."
She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Come, Weasley. I will attempt to explain the situation and our methods, and advise you on how to proceed in the future."
"But—"
McGongall's lips pursed. "That was not a request, Mister Weasley."
Ron gulped. "Y-yes, ma'am."
He followed her to her office, muttering under his breath, and Harry sighed and leaned against the wall.
Hermione leaned next to him. "Do you think she'll be hurt more for this?"
"Probably. Let's hope we can either prevent it or convince her to leave."
"Yeah." She stood and brushed off her skirt. "I'll warn the DA to be on the watch for trouble. Can you keep an eye on the map for us?"
Harry nodded. "I'll do what I can."
"Thanks, Harry. See you later." Hermione and Parvati left, and Harry leaned his head against the cool, rough stone.
Merlin, what a mess.
~SSHP~
When Harry returned, Severus was waiting, pacing before the sofa with worry in his eyes. He rushed to Harry's side as soon as he entered the flat and caught him into his arms.
"Are you hurt?"
Harry shook his head and hugged Severus tight. "It wasn't hard to stop him. He was in a rage and a better fighter than Smith, but not better than me. Not to mention, he wasn't paying attention. He did a lot of damage to Smith, though, and probably Ginny by proxy." He snuggled into Severus' arms. "What do we do now?"
"I think there is nothing we can do besides keep a watch over both of them, which I have already advised the professors to do."
"So did Professor McGonagall. And Hermione's warning the DA to do the same thing."
"Let us hope that is enough."
"Yeah." Harry stepped back with a brief kiss. "I'm meant to be watching the map for them. I'll—"
A knock sounded at Severus' door. Harry winced.
"I'll go into the bedroom, lo—"
Professor McGonagall called through the door. "Severus, it's Minerva. Will you let me in?"
Harry sighed, relieved. "Or, I'll just sit on the sofa."
Severus chuckled and let the professor into their quarters. "Hello, Minerva. Are you here about Mister Weasley?"
"Yes."
McGonagall closed the door behind her and sat in the armchair beside the sofa. Severus moved to his husband's side and wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. The gentle touch eased the ache of their strained bond a bit, and Harry breathed easier. He climbed into Severus' lap to further ease his pain, and Severus clutched him tight.
"Forgive us," Severus said, his voice low. "We have not had enough time together and our bond is aching. We need to be close."
McGonagall nodded, a gentle smile on her face. "It's no trouble, boys. I am only happy that you have come so far." She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "If only every relationship could be so mutually loving. I am afraid Miss Weasley will suffer for this."
"So are we all," said Harry with a shudder. "What happened with Ron?"
"I believe I have explained the situation as well as I am able. He is still livid, but I think he understands now that further violence will only exacerbate the situation." She shook her head sadly. "Would that we could simply separate them."
"I fear it would break her mind," said Severus with a wince. "She has already shown signs of mental illness."
Harry nodded. "She'd just go after him harder, I think. I mean, we've all seen the extent of her perseverance."
"Indeed." McGonagall sighed. "Severus, what do we do?"
"I think we are already doing what we can."
Harry sighed and leaned into Severus' side. "I'm worried about her. And Draco, too. He's so miserable, but he won't leave. I keep trying, but he's just not listening. He can't let go of the hope his father will change one day. Gods. I… I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless, with both of them."
Severus kissed Harry's hair. "Simply continue as you have been, beloved. Ginevra has other champions to secure her safety, and Draco is coming around. Perhaps you cannot see it, but from my the point of view and experience, he is making great strides towards independence. Your forgiveness will help him out of the darkness eventually. I am sure of it. As will Mister Thomas'."
"Before or after his father murders him, Sev? That's what I'm worried about."
Severus shuddered and held Harry tighter. "Yes. So am I."
