This section – PG13, edging towards R – SS/HP, DM/HP, RW/HG.
Notes: I've rushed this a bit to get it out, so I'll re-edit it later. Yes this is in some ways a transition chapter but no the RW/HG plot is not peripheral, it's crucial. Sorry zeynel, the last part went up weirdly, and I had to replace it (if you read VIIb when it was brand new you might want to check you saw the whole thing). From today I will have only intermittent travelling access to the internet until the 24th – so, see you all after then.
Spoilers: Various up to the end of Book IV. No OotP whatsoever.
Archiving: Only where I've agreed.
Feedback/Reviews: Please, it's just plain encouraging. I'm especially grateful to people who give me some direction as to what works and what doesn't.
Pervinco VII (c): Great Expectations
Grumbling or silent students staggered through the common room, greeted by those who set charmed clocks to get to the shower first or, in Hermione's case, revise her class notes for the day. A knock at the entry from Gryffindor tower was unusual, but Neville answered without expecting to have to face Professor Snape before breakfast. The boy gave a disturbing croak that brought Pavarti to his side protectively.
Snape looked down at them both with apparent contempt. Behind him, cowering lower Gryffindors peered nervously from around the entry to the stairs.
"I wish to see Mr Potter," Snape bit out. "Bring him here. . . please."
As Neville seemed to no longer have functioning legs or vocal chords, and Pavarti was holding his hand, Hermione went. By the time she'd forced Harry down, on pain of sending him to the Headmaster to explain – she was, after all, still Head Girl – the common room was filled with its possible occupants. Neville had managed to sit down.
"What is it?" Harry said from the door.
Almost everyone paled at his tone, and several cowered to avoid the blast while still keeping their eyes on the show.
"As you saw fit to return my letter twice last night, I thought before resorting to more drastic measures," and Snape's lowering brow suggested that he could be very drastic if called upon, "I would directly ask you to do me the courtesy of reading this."
With a shocked expression Harry came forward and took the extended letter, at which Snape turned on his heel and left.
"Oh my god, Harry!" Hermione said in a shocked whisper.
Neville was still gaping and Pavarti settled an arm around his shoulder, Dean snorted from behind his hand and Seamus rocked on his heels with a happy grin.
"So that's Snape in love, is it?" Seamus said. "Can't say I envy you, Harry," he called after him as Harry ran off down the stairs.
Mr Potter
I resent having been forced to this course. We are in this situation because you insisted on it, and I fail to see what gain by demonstrating this surpassing degree of immaturity.
If you have a particular charge to lay at my door then just do so, as a good Gryffindor should. Childish sulking becomes you not at all, and in this circumstance may harm more than yourself. It is far too late to simply withdraw, and more depends on this than your pride, as I expect you to realise.
Your recent behaviour has brought more than one staff member to my door in the hope that I will ease your broken heart or some such ridiculous notion. There may be some cause for it entirely unrelated to myself and indeed the Headmaster suspects the meeting with Karkaroff. If so, you should have come to me, according to our understanding after the incident with B.
However, if in fact you are distressed on my account, that was never my intention. I am not attempting to humiliate you, as you recently accused me of doing. I may have erred in giving your obvious desires too much leeway. I may have allowed myself to forget, in some respects, the limitations of a seventeen-year-old world view. I am fully prepared to take responsibility for such a misjudgement, but your current behaviour cannot continue.
The Headmaster indicates you have meetings with Miss Weasley and Mr Malfoy tomorrow. You will please have the grace to attend these and act appropriately. I propose that we meet on Sunday evening and shall make the necessary arrangements. We will meet in the Headmaster's rooms at 6pm, preceding dinner.
I would appreciate your early confirmation.
Yours truly,
Severus
* * *
LAVENDER:
Go on, Millicent, tell me you're not simply floored. I swear – he brought a letter to Harry's room and pleaded with him to read it.
Don't give me that look, it's true. Ask Pavarti, or even Hermione! Really.
Shove over now.
I just hope it makes Harry less creepy. He skipped breakfast again, but he's back in the blue robes and he hasn't bit my head off today over anything.
You know, I understand why he's not talking to Ginny Weasley, she's such a morose little thing these days, always staring at everyone who goes near her precious Harry even though he won't even look at her half the time. But, you know, yesterday he actually told me to shut the hell up? Even Hermione told him not to be so rude, and he laughed in this creepy way, and that's when he went to sit with Malfoy.
And when I was leaving I barely even looked at them and did you see the way Draco Malfoy winked at me? You know he only does it to upset people.
So maybe now he and Snape are back together he'll be more like the normal Harry Potter – or as normal as that gets.
Of course Draco's just so much better looking, and I mean it makes no sense to me – Professor Snape, I mean, eww. But I was there, Millicent, I saw them looking at each other and it was absolutely definitely, you know, the real thing. I'll bet you, well, anything at all, that it'll be Harry Potter and Severus Snape on all the cards at Christmas.
Do you think Snape even sends Christmas cards?
* * *
"And you will all remember that although this class is not being formally examined, the school expects that you leave it with more than a passing knowledge of the cultures which informed the modern wizard."
Someone to Draco's right stifled a giggle at Binns saying "the modern wizard". He sympathised, but Binns had a sense of perspective. So little really mattered as much as how it was written down afterwards.
"Miss McGonagall now wishes to speak with you briefly, after which class is dismissed."
"Thank you Professor," McGonagall said. When Binns had drifted off she looked carefully around the class. "Mr Finnegan you will please wake Mr Thomas immediately. Mr Goyle, you will not do that in my class."
After a moment's shuffling and stretching, she continued. "The Ministry's first public function for the Rite is only eight days away, and it has come to my attention that many of you will find the expected formal trappings quite foreign. You should not be alarmed – the occasions in your life when you will be called upon to formally distinguish a Master wizard from any other, know how to traditionally outline your genealogy, or identify and use an oyster fork will be very few indeed." Draco thought such occasions probably already accounted for the majority of his life outside the school. "However, as we have undertaken to properly equip you, tutorials in traditional etiquette have been arranged. They are entirely optional, although I will admit that while an hour's consultation on outdated table manners will teach you very little, it is almost certainly more than you know now about the topic and I cannot see that it could do you any harm."
On each desk a schedule promptly appeared. Draco read:
"Wizarding Etiquette, with Mr Dante Sangermano (in the Staff Common Room)
Sunday 7-8pm: social hierarchies
Monday 8-9pm: dress and deportment
Tuesday 8-9pm: introductions and conversation
Wednesday 9-10pm: at the table
Thursday 9-11pm: dancing
Friday: other social events (to be arranged by consultation)"
Draco looked around as the others finished. He thought Brown and Patil-number-2 might actually faint from happy anticipation. Under no circumstance would he be subjecting himself. . . Not, of course, that he needed to. Dante had certainly already taught him everything he knew about such things.
For example, while a tutor is a subordinate, remember age, experience, and the glamour of knowledge still give him a distinct advantage over his charge. A real flair with shades of black and leather gloves will increase that advantage, as will knowing precisely how close to stand for maximum impact. Crucially, your sexual practices are not an appropriate topic of conversation with the parents of your underage lover, although skills in intelligent conversation will likely increase the occasions upon which you will be thrown together. Remember to avoid endearments, which may accidentally betray you.
"Next Friday evening," McGonagall droned on, "regardless of whether you have the tutorials, there will be a formal dinner in place of next week's class, to ensure all of you have some familiarity with such an event. You will assemble in the staff common room, at 6pm, for dinner at 7."
If there was much else to say it was lost in the now irrepressible buzz of enthusiasm. Even the Slytherins could see both novelty and possible advantage in such a thing. McGonagall let them go.
Walking out, Draco caught Harry looking his way. It wasn't one of those sexually curious looks, or the just as frequent anxious interrogative ones, it wasn't even 'meet me in the library I think there's a conspiracy', or the angry glare was perfecting lately, it was just a look. And Draco was curious.
* * *
Saturday, 24 October
Dear Severus
I was relieved to hear that you managed to arrange a meeting between Lupin and Draco out of turn, and relieve me of a trip to Hogwarts today, and of the noisome duty of looking at the creature and knowing his suit for my son has been in any way encouraged.
I am nevertheless still surprised not to have heard from you directly about the other matter we discussed. It occurs to me that you may feel your needs are being met elsewhere, and a rumour about an uncharacteristic romantic gesture, if it were true, rather supports this theory. While the boy has some claims, you might at least hear my terms given that your interests are far more likely to be served by a fully trained pureblood consort. (Forgive the somewhat gauche term and do correct me as to the proper label as I am quite sure I've never been called upon to use it before.)
Narcissa specifically asks to be remembered to you, and asks if you would give us the pleasure of having you to dinner some time soon. She rightly points out that it has been a long time. Just a small family affair, we would have Draco home for the occasion.
I anticipate your swift reply.
Yours Sincerely
Lucius N.A. Malfoy
Snape swallowed anger and some anxiety. So much for breakfast.
The knock at the door, bound to be Draco with a coy look to frame his explanation, didn't improve his mood at all.
* * *
Harry entered Dumbledore's rooms in a confused state of mind. Dumbledore embraced him, saying how very pleased he was to see him after a trying week. The mood seemed to be catching and for no apparent reason Hagrid was hugging him tightly and commenting almost mournfully on how much he'd grown.
When Ginny arrived, Dumbledore coaxed her to tea, biscuits, cakes, pumpkin juice, but she declined it all nervously. Hagrid tried to draw her into a conversation about Charlie, but she was clearly still uncomfortable when they left for the walk.
As they walked through the castle, Ginny blushed whenever anyone saw them, but didn't volunteer a word. Harry asked about her parents and her brothers, but he couldn't recall anything she liked except Pavarti, Bill, the Cannons, and him.
When they were well out onto the path she said, "Harry," and he stopped.
"Ginny. . ."
"Please let me finish."
"All right. I'm sorry."
"That's you," she said, putting a hand on his arm, "always thinking things are your fault, when really it's everyone else. I see them, all of them, asking you to do too much and be too much. I know it scares you – I'm the only one who knows you just want to be Harry."
He was a little taken aback. That was true, sometimes, even though he wasn't positive what just-Harry would be like.
"That's how I know that it's right for us to be together. Whatever anyone says."
Harry felt a little exposed here, but he could hardly interrupt and ask her to move somewhere more discreet – could he?
"And I know it will work out for us in the end. Even if you're not really sure, just yet, what you want."
They were still standing on the path from the castle to the lake, not going on and not going back. "What do you mean?"
"Ron told me. . . I mean, I'd heard the rumours, I just didn't believe them." When Harry went to reply she rushed on, "I know it's not Malfoy himself, because you could never care for such a horrible person, but Ron said that you're not really interested in girls."
"Oh." At her sad smile, Harry sincerely wished he could tell her what she wanted to hear. Her hand on his arm was so tender and certain. She would let him be whoever he wanted to be, and even his flaws would be virtues.
"And I was upset, at first," she said, moving her hand along his arm, "but then I realised that we have plenty of time. And after living with those horrible people it's understandable if you're starved for attention and really confused about love."
"What? Ginny, I'm sorry. . ."
"Don't say it," she said, and he hesitated. She was sweet, and probably pretty.
"Don't you want to know what my gift to you is?" she said, and the pitch of her voice really troubled him.
"I don't want you to give me anything."
"I've been thinking about it for months," she said, in a whisper now, putting her other hand on his upper arm. When had she grown almost as tall as him?
"I'm gay," he blurted out.
"Harry, I understand."
"No, it's not just something to do, it's what I feel, and I'd like to love you but I don't."
She dropped her hands but remained close. "But you do want to, you see? I knew that."
"I shouldn't have said it that way. It would be easier if I loved you. But I don't." When she smiled again he spat out, "I won't ever love you."
Ginny flinched and looked away, but she said softly, "You're just confused."
That was too close to the truth to deny, so he just apologised.
"Everyone says girls mature a lot faster than boys," she said, as if it was a gentle reprimand, and while he was still searching for a reply she just walked away.
It seemed safe to say the meeting with Ginny didn't go particularly well.
* * *
Draco led Harry through the castle away from the rain. He'd smoothly said he knew where they should go, but. . . Perhaps he shouldn't take Potter to his room after Severus had warned him to be careful what 'agenda' he brought to this. Typically Slytherin that, putting Draco on edge but not making any direct statement about what Snape wanted.
And Severus was already angry with him, which Draco understood. It was galling to have given a reason to be thought careless and immature. And Draco could find no reasonable excuse. He had simply forgotten to tell Snape, even though the cover story involved him. The one consolation was that, however awkward the day, it was better than one containing Remus, Snape, Lucius and himself in the same room.
Remus's parlour then.
"Something to drink? I think he has everything," Draco said with a confident blond smile back to the door, where Harry still stood. "Look Potter, Dumbledore knows you won't be back, your classmates don't care, your virtue's in no danger, come and have a drink."
"I don't need to."
Draco paused, bottle in hand – "What does that mean?"
"Whenever you, or Snape, or for some reason the Headmaster, want to talk to me, you offer me a drink. It's annoying."
Draco poured himself a glass and brought the bottle. "Leaving aside the fact that I've never offered you a drink before – the Headmaster gets you drunk so you'll do things?"
"Tea. Talk. It's the same thing for him. And shut up Draco." Harry closed the door a bit more firmly than necessary and came inside, looking around.
"You always do that," Draco said, sinking to the floor in front of the fire, his back against an armchair. Harry followed him over, sitting in the opposite chair. "Look around the room, I mean; as if it's going to tell you something."
"Sometimes rooms do."
"Not Slytherin rooms."
"This is a Gryffindor room," Harry said with a smile, "but, yeah, even Slytherin rooms. Like Snape's bedroom has some kind of snake in a glass cylinder. It's dimly lit, and I think it's alive or at least magically animated. I think that's pretty revealing."
Draco took a long drink. "I suppose it's different with private rooms. I've never had one. My father's study, I suppose, says things about him." He took another long drink, draining the glass quickly and refilling it.
Harry joined him on the hearth-rug, back against the chaise lounge. "But I wouldn't know about the snake," Draco finally finished, "never having been in his bedroom."
"Oh. I'm sorry. . ."
Draco waved it off, and poured another glass, which he gave to Harry. "Just drink it, Potter, I'm now officially in mourning," and he took a long drink from the bottle.
"No, we didn't, please don't think. . . That wasn't why I was there. Exactly."
"Tell me then – why were you? Exactly."
"I can't Draco."
"I don't think Order of the Fucking Phoenix business gets you in Snape's bedroom or I would have tried to sign up years ago." Draco took a drink that was long enough to make Harry a bit concerned whether Remus would think he should stop him.
"You are in love with him, aren't you?" he finally said, just loud enough to be heard.
"You better not want me to respond to that, because I'm not going to."
"I think you just did."
"Fuck off. Oh. . . no. . . wait. . ."
Harry snatched the bottle just as Draco was about to drink from it again. Some of it spilled, and the strong smell wafted around and, ugh, over them.
"Much as I want to see you lose control and spill your guts, I'm fond enough of you these days to stop you before you hate me. I didn't have sex with Snape." Draco looked at him skeptically. "Really, I haven't." When the long look held, Harry eventually blushed and said, "Not exactly."
"Hah. Has he kissed you?"
After a pause, Harry nodded.
"Hah! That's worse."
"It is?"
"No, not really." Draco smiled at that himself. "Why, then?"
"What?"
"You have him, or near enough. Why dark Harry Potter all week?"
Harry blew out a sigh. There probably wasn't anybody else to tell anyway. "It's really not as great as it sounds. Snape and I. . . I just want to know why it can't ever be sweet."
Battling a pained smile, Draco said, "Excuse me. You want Snape to be sweet?"
"No, not exactly," Harry said, irritably. "Okay, maybe, a bit."
"I knew he'd be better off with me."
"Probably."
"So would you."
"What?"
"At least I understand why you want that. More or less."
"I just want," Harry said, wishing he knew what came next, "something. I mean, why is it I have to be gay" – Draco screwed up his face at the Muggle word – "when that's just another lot of pain and wrongness. Haven't I had my share?"
Draco nodded but said, "Who has it better, though?"
"Well look at Ron and Hermione." Harry put down the bottle and sipped from the glass.
"You're kidding."
"No, even after everything it's just oh we love each other really and everyone's so fucking pleased for them. Including me."
Draco leaned over and turned Harry's face to him, very close. "You want to be happy." Harry nodded, just once, and Draco shook his head as if he might laugh or cry.
"What?"
"Do you know what I would give?" Draco said, his hot heady breath back on Harry's face, "Do you have any idea?" His thumb ran along the line of Harry's jaw.
"Well you're not exactly well-balanced are you?" Harry said as lightly as he could, given that his heart had begun to race and he wasn't sure if it was Draco's touch itself or the erection stirring under his robe – the robe that hid nothing. Harry pulled away and drew his knees up to his chest.
Draco didn't seem bothered. He leant over to collect the glass. "And you are, Harry?"
"You're not helping."
"Okay. Oliver, Marcus, Justin, Pansy, Snape. . ." Draco tapped his fingers on Harry's thigh as he listed the names.
"I wouldn't exactly put Snape," Harry began, and then stopped. "Hang on, Justin?"
Draco replied with a kiss, not fierce and not gentle. Just warm and soft and slightly wet. It was over quickly and they were still just looking at each other, Draco's hand on his leg, Harry's lower lip caught between his teeth, when there was a knock at the outer door.
Harry pulled away and up onto the chair as Remus came into the room from the other side. "I'll get it," he said, not looking directly their way.
Harry turned in panic to Draco, who was looking into the fire, nursing his empty glass.
It was Snape at the door, and Remus went out into the corridor to speak with him rather than inviting him in.
* * *
Lucius
As you insist on pursuing this, what terms do you propose, exactly?
SS
* * *
Next up, the penultimate chapter, "The Trial". I will be back on the 24th, but the next chapter currently consists of an outline, three lines of dialogue, a sex scene, and a seduction. It will take a little while.