No Light Without Shadows
by Draeconin
See Chapter One for disclaimer and details.
Chapter Sixteen
By this time the Ministry was done with their investigations into the deaths of Draco's parents and had released the Malfoy assets to him. The verdict of that investigation? 'Murder by person or persons unknown.'
Draco almost screamed his frustration with the bloody useless Ministry of Magic.
But he had taken over the reins of his family's finances and other concerns, and had been teaching Harry the ins and outs of handling his own for some time now. Because Draco had undertaken to teach him so much, Harry had put a stop to scheduling their private lessons together. It had been getting to be a strain on his husband, and a nuisance to him. They still had their lessons together several times a week, but it was on more of a catch-as-catch-can basis – whenever there was time, and whatever subject came up at the time.
And Harry made sure that he and Draco had time for socialising. In that vein, Harry finally got around to once again making a date with his Gryffindor friends for the next Hogsmeade weekend, knowing as he did so that Draco wasn't going to be happy with it.
"No," Draco declared. "I've let you rope me into letting your Weasleys call me family, but I will not become a Gryffindork for you!"
"They're Gryffindors, not Gryffindorks," Harry corrected him with equanimity, "but if it's going to make you unhappy, you certainly don't have to come."
Draco eyed Harry cautiously. "As easily as that, then?" he asked. His husband was up to something. He could feel it.
"As easily as that," Harry affirmed.
"You're not going to try convincing me? Not that it would work, mind you."
"No, no Hogsmeade, no Three Broomsticks, no Zonko's," Harry said reassuringly.
"Something's off," Draco said suspiciously. "What's your game, then?"
Harry shrugged, giving Draco an innocent look. "No game. Truly!" he avowed.
"Well. Good, then," Draco replied, still not convinced Harry was being quite honest.
"Of course I was hoping you'd help me put Seamus off," Harry 'casually' added.
Draco had forgotten the Irishman was going to be in the group. Finnigan was a notorious flirt who would bed anything on two legs, male or female, regardless of their previous or ongoing relationships.
Annoyed, Draco said, "I see your ploy, Harry, and it will not work." What annoyed him even more than Harry's blatant attempt to make him jealous was that it was working.
Harry grinned at him. "Alright," he said easily. "I'm off to meet the lot of them, then, and I'll see you later." Harry fully expected that he'd be meeting Draco a lot sooner than the blond thought. In fact he expected his husband would be joining them, despite his resistance.
Harry went up to Gryffindor Tower. Neville met him there outside the Gryffindor common room, then went in to collect the others who'd been invited.
Ron came out shortly after Neville had gone in. He'd heard Neville calling Ginny and a few others, saying Harry was awaiting them. "H'lo, Harry," he said quietly, unsure of his welcome.
"Weasley," Harry replied coolly.
"Look – Harry – I'm sorry, all right?" Ron whinged. "I even agreed to invite – um . . . – 'Draco' into the family." Ron hadn't forgiven Draco anything, and was still wanting to call Draco 'the ferret'. But he missed his best friend, and would swallow his enmity for Malfoy to get back in Harry's good graces.
"Mum's pleased he accepted," the redhead exaggerated. Relieved that the young Malfoy wouldn't likely be hindering Harry's coming by to see them was more to the point, and she was willing to put up with the blond aristocrat to have Harry there. "Mind you, she just about had a heart attack first, she was that surprised." That, at least, was close to the truth.
"And how long did you hold out before you agreed?" Harry asked acidly.
"About five seconds," Ginny said as the Fat Lady swung aside, and she came through the port. Neville came through with her, but kept silent as he sensed a confrontation going on.
"Hello, Ginny," Harry said warmly, before his expression went serious again. "Really?"
"Truly," Ginny replied. Ron's head was nodding rapidly, as well.
"I'm sorry I've taken so long to speak up, Harry, but I just didn't know what to do," Ron said, his head now hanging in shame.
Harry was now on the horns of a dilemma. On the one hand he wasn't quite ready to forgive Ron, but on the other, if he rejected this apology...
"Considering your view of Slytherins, your accusations really hurt, Ron," Harry finally replied. "I'll accept your apology for the sake of the rest of the family, but it's going to take me a while to forgive and forget."
Ron had raised his head in hope as Harry accepted his apology, but he hung it again as his former best friend finished his sentence.
"I understand," Ron said. "I wouldn't forgive me, either."
"His ears were ringing when we got done with him," Ginny put in.
Harry gave a wry grin. "I figured something of the sort would occur. You looked angry enough to take on an army, after I was re-Sorted."
"Took me a while to heal," Ron mumbled.
Ginny's face turned red. "I rather used him as target practice for a few days," she confessed.
But then her face brightened. "And you should have just heard the Howler he received after Mum and Da found out!" Ginny chortled.
Ron's face rivalled what his sister's had been, now.
"I already knew I'd cocked up by then," Ron said, shrugging as if to repeat how lost he'd felt about trying to correct his error.
"Did someone mention cock?" a voice asked cheerily.
Seamus had arrived, Dean right behind him.
Ginny knocked Seamus upside the head. "Shut it, you gormless git!"
"Hey!" Seamus objected. "Watch the hair!" he pouted, in imitation of Draco, before breaking into a wide grin.
Ginny and Dean rolled their eyes at his antics. It was old news, to them.
"I'll meet you all down at the doors," Harry told the small group, smiling politely. "I need to talk to Ron privately, a moment."
As soon as the others were out of sight, Harry quietly told Ron, "If you want to keep a boyfriend, you might want to consider refining your ways. Blaise wasn't the least bit impressed – although he did say the sex was great." And then he turned and headed off as well, leaving Ron looking after him with his face blazing and his mouth agape.
As soon as Harry was out of sight and had found a dark niche behind a suit of armour, he did a quick shadow walk to the front door. He wasn't surprised to find he'd beat the Gryffindors there, or that Draco was standing nearby.
"Hello, love," Harry murmured in Draco's ear – and nearly got knocked for six as Draco reacted.
"You beastly arse! Stop sneaking about!" Draco exclaimed. "You'll have me jumping at shadows."
Harry looked at his husband, amusement in his eyes, since he had just come out of the shadows. "Well?" he said.
"Not in the least amusing," Draco replied flatly.
"Sorry, love," Harry said almost sincerely, taking Draco in his arms and giving him a small peck on the lips.
"Harry! How'd you make it here before us?" Ginny exclaimed, as they came into sight and spied the pair.
"And may I join in?" Seamus asked.
Harry grinned. "That's my secret," he replied teasingly to his 'sister'.
Then switching his attention to Seamus, his expression becoming a warning, Harry said, "And you know better than to ask."
Seamus shrugged, his gamin grin saying, 'Yeah, but I had to do it anyway.'
"I'm quite up on my castration spells, Finnigan," Draco told the Irishman with a crocodilian smile.
Seamus pretended not to hear, but he was on his best behaviour the whole outing. Other than Harry and Draco, nobody else in the small group was sexually interesting. Dean and Neville preferred girls, and Ginny had, some time ago, hexed the Irishman up one side and down the other when he'd refused to take 'no' for an answer. He'd got the message.
After a meal, a few drinks and some convivial conversation at The Three Broomsticks, the small group wandered around Hogsmeade, and eventually Neville, Dean and Seamus went their own way. Harry did forego Zonko's for Draco's sake, but he insisted on taking his lover to Honeyduke's, where he bought him simply pounds of the best chocolates as a reward for coming along and behaving himself – at least for the most part.
Draco surveyed the pile with a jaundiced eye. "Are you trying to make me fat, Harry?" he asked.
"Oh, lighten up, blondie," Ginny quipped. "You might do with a few sit-ups, but you're still slender as a reed."
Harry frowned, but didn't say anything. If anyone else had spoken to Draco that way, Harry would have hexed them. But he wanted Draco and his family to get on. So unless he needed to interfere, he wouldn't.
Draco went still. "What do you mean – 'a few sit-ups'?" he asked, danger in his tone.
"Well, if I thought you went in for such a low-brow drink, I'd say you had the beginnings of a beer gut," the redheaded girl replied. "Not that it's all that noticeable, yet. Lack of Quidditch?" she asked.
"I will have you know, Weasellette," Draco began, only to have Harry put a hand on his shoulder in warning. Draco glared at him, then began again. " . . .Ginevra, that I am not getting fat!"
"Then what's that?" Ginny asked argumentatively, poking at Draco's abdomen.
Draco quickly stepped back, slapping at her hand as he did so, but the move had taken him by surprise, and the girl's finger managed to land on its target for a split second before he could knock it away.
Ginny was a bit surprised by how firm the flesh was. It certainly didn't feel like fat or flabby muscle.
"Keep your hands to yourself, bitch!" Draco snarled. It took an effort not to put his hands protectively over his abdomen.
"Draco!" Harry interjected.
Harry addressed the girl before Draco or Ginny could say anything else. "Ginny – drop it," he said firmly.
"But—"
"Drop it," Harry said again, this time allowing the words to hold a request as well as an order.
Ginny looked at him a few seconds, and then nodded.
"Don't see what all the fuss is about," she muttered.
"None of your bleeding business!" Draco told her, still fuming at the temerity of the girl.
Ginny regarded the temperamental blond thoughtfully before turning again to Harry.
"Before I forget," she said, "Mum said to ask you and Mister Grumpy home for the half-term hols."
"I wouldn't be grumpy if certain parties—"
"Draco!" Harry exclaimed again.
Giving Ginny an apologetic look, Harry said, "Excuse us a moment, please?" and then took his husband off a ways.
"I haven't said anything, love, but you are starting to show, just a bit," Harry murmured. He wondered if Ginny was psychic, though; the convexity of his husband's abdomen was very slight, at this point. Ignoring Draco's faint protest, Harry said, "Everyone is going to know soon, if we can't find a spell to hide it. And Ginny is family."
"She's not my—"
"You accepted," Harry interrupted firmly, eyeing his husband sternly.
"No," Draco said firmly.
"You're backing out?" Harry looked hurt as he asked it.
Draco hesitated, and although he would have liked to answer differently, he said, "No," laying a hand on Harry's arm. "Just – I don't wish to tell anyone."
"Six weeks, Draco," Harry replied gently, but firmly. "Almost six weeks to mid-term hols. By that time I'd like you to have made up your mind that we tell our family, anyway."
Draco flinched. 'Our' family? "Even . . . Ronald?" Draco asked with a moue of distaste for having to say the name. He couldn't call him 'Weasley', because they were talking about a whole bloody tribe of the blasted redheads!
Harry hesitated. "I don't see how we can avoid it," he replied. "I don't think the rest of the family would keep it from him."
"I'll think about it," Draco said truculently. Six weeks. Six weeks to change Harry's mind.
"That's all I can ask," Harry said softly, thinking the argument was won. They rejoined Ginny.
"We'd be glad to join you at Half Term," Harry told her with a smile, as though that had been the subject of their conversation.
There was suspicion in Ginny's eyes for a second, and then she dismissed it and gave him a wide grin. "Brilliant!" she exclaimed.
"Hey, Potter! A word with you?"
Harry looked up from the tome he was reading as he lounged in the Slytherin common room. With very few exceptions, albeit with a quiet reserve, Slytherin House had accepted Harry's presence.
"Sure, Blaise. Have a seat," Harry invited. After the fiasco with Ron, Harry and Blaise had become almost friendly – enough for given names, but that was about it.
Blaise sat on the opposite end of the couch, folding one leg beneath the other, and flinging an arm along its back. "I have that information you've been looking for, Harry," Blaise said in a low voice.
"Which information would that be?"
"Hogwarts board meeting," the dark-skinned Slytherin revealed.
Harry sat back, carefully casual, twisting around a little to face Blaise.
"Oh?" he said.
"What will you give me for it?" Blaise inquired.
"What do you want?" Harry asked.
Blaise' eyes slowly travelled up and down Harry's form.
"Something else, unless you want to wind up missing your favourite bits," Harry said with a small grin. "Draco tells me he's well up on his castration spells."
Blaise eyed Harry curiously, wondering why Draco had felt the need to divulge that information to Harry, but shrugged. "You helped me with Weasley, so consider this remuneration; my mother is currently going out with one of the board members. She found out for me that the next meeting is tonight."
"Where?" Harry asked.
"Aberdeen – 'The Three Furies'," Blaise replied, "first floor1 conference room at eight this evening."
"Thank you," Harry replied.
"Think nothing of it," Blaise replied. "By which I mean . . . we're even."
Harry eyed the other Slytherin, holding him in place with his gaze while he weighed the value of the information. "I don't think so," he finally answered with a grin, "but it's quite a good down payment."
"But—"
Making sure they wouldn't be overheard, Harry interrupted. "What do you think the twins would do if they found out you'd buggered their little brother, then dumped him?" he asked.
Blaise paled. "You wouldn't," he said imploringly.
Harry shrugged nonchalantly, then grinned and reiterated, "Like I said, the information is a good down payment, but it's not enough to make us even."
"Bastard," Blaise griped admiringly.
Harry's grin grew. "I try," he replied.
. . .
Harry entered his rooms and set down the book he'd been reading on his desk with a heavy 'thump'.
"Harry?" he heard from the bathroom.
"No!" Harry called back. "It's the milkman!"
"Fantastic," Draco replied enthusiastically. "I was so afraid it was that pesky husband of mine. Well, come on, then. Deliveries in the rear."
"Yours, I hope," Harry said, grinning.
"Of course!" Draco said, emerging into the sitting room.
"Damn! It is you," Draco said with a wink as he caught sight of Harry. He'd evidently just had a shower, since his hair was wet and he only had on a towel, wrapped around his waist. He let it fall as Harry gathered him into his arms.
After deliveries and collections had been made and they were lying in bed cuddling, Harry said, "Aberdeen. Have you ever been?"
"Mm-hm," Draco replied. "A few times. Why?"
"According to Blaise, the Hogwarts school board is meeting there tonight. Care to come along?"
"Really?"
"Mm-hm. Wouldn't have asked, otherwise."
"Would I be allowed?"
Harry gave a small frown. "I don't know," he admitted. "But even if not, you'd have a change of scenery."
"Good point. All right, then. Where are they meeting?"
"A place called 'The Three Furies'?"
Draco frowned. "I know where it is," he said.
"You don't sound thrilled," Harry observed, sitting up to lean against the headboard. Draco automatically sat up to continue the cuddle.
"It's near the docks."
"And?"
"It's not exactly in the best part of town, Harry."
"So you're saying that a bunch of wizards are using an establishment in a neighbourhood where the locals aren't likely to pay too close attention to strange goings-on?"
"You could look at it like that," Draco said, peeved, "or you could wonder why they'd choose such a place when they could meet here, in an establishment in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, or a conference room in the Ministry of Magic – all much nicer environments."
Harry had to admit that his husband had a point, but . . . "I don't think Blaise was lying," he said with a puzzled frown.
"But he could have been misled," Draco said firmly.
Harry snarled, frustrated – and a small string of lightning leapt from him across the room, impinging on a brass casting of a serpent.
"Harry!" Draco yelped, leaping away from his lover.
Harry just sat there, staring in shock at the wall ornament.
"Harry?" Draco said a few seconds later in a shaky voice as he peeked up over the edge of the bed at his husband, "I do believe we may have discovered one of your abilities."
Harry looked at the blond, his eyes blank, and then they cleared and Harry gave a shaky laugh at the understatement before sobering again. "Are you all right?" he asked worriedly.
Draco nodded. "Just gave me a bit of a fright, that's all," he admitted, slowly getting up and crawling back into bed.
Harry gathered him in and tried to comfort him.
"I'm alright, Harry," Draco said reassuringly as he felt Harry trembling.
"Thank Merlin," Harry replied. "If I'd hurt you..."
"But you didn't," Draco said softly.
"I think we need to get Salazar's funeral done so he'll train us. I don't want to take the chance that the next time we mightn't be so lucky."
Draco nodded.
"I'm hungry," Draco said, as if it had never happened before. "Isn't it close to supper?"
It was. A couple of cleansing spells later, newly acquired by Draco, and with a few minutes to dress and groom themselves, they made their way to the Great Hall for supper.
"So you're not going to this thing, are you?" Draco asked as he cut into his roast chicken.
Harry adopted a small frown. "Not without verification," he decided.
"I'm happy to see I've managed to teach you a little caution," Draco said with a smirk.
"Toff," Harry called him fondly.
Draco elbowed him in the ribs, but not too hard.
"No, but I think I'm going to have to beard the old man," Harry said with a frown. "If it is tonight, there's not time to owl the board itself – which I should have done long before now!" Harry was growling those last words, angry with himself for not thinking of it beforehand, and going to such elaborate lengths instead.
Draco stopped eating.
"Harry," he said conversationally, "would you mind awfully if I boxed you about the ears?"
"What?" Harry asked, puzzled. Then, as he looked at his husband and noted the slight, uncomfortable squirming, he caught on. "Oh. Sorry." Harry couldn't help but feel a little pride in the fact that Draco found 'certain tones of voice' from him sexy, though.
"You should be, you pillock," Draco replied.
"I am," Harry replied honestly. It wasn't fair of him to set off that reaction in his husband, but to be fair to himself, he hadn't meant to do so. "But I should have thought of the direct approach," he continued. "All I'd have had to do is send an owl!" Harry felt a slight pang at the inadvertent reminder of Hedwig, but ruthlessly shoved it down.
"And if you had consulted me, I would have told you that," Draco replied.
Harry very maturely stuck his tongue out at his husband.
"Don't do that unless you plan to use it," Draco directed.
"Oh, I do – but not until much later," Harry said with a smirk.
"Tease."
A titter from someone else at the table reminded them of where they were, causing them both to blush. Smirks abounded on the faces of their dinner companions.
After they had eaten, and just as Harry was rising from the table to go search out Dumbledore, a very unwelcome voice spoke up.
"Mister Potter."
Harry's rolled his eyes. "Yes, Professor Snape?" he replied, turning to face the man. Where had he come from, anyway? If it had been Voldemort, he'd be dead, now.
"I require your presence in my office. You and Mister Malfoy."
"Yes, Professor Snape, but might it wait? I have been—"
"No, Mister Potter. Now," Snape interrupted, steel in his voice.
"We may be late for a meeting of—" Draco said, trying to intervene, but he also was interrupted.
"Now, Mister Malfoy."
Harry and Draco exchanged glances, and Harry shrugged. There was always the next meeting, if Snape made them miss this one.
"Yes, sir," Harry replied.
As the three of them were walking to the dungeons, Harry decided that he had nothing to lose by inquiring, so asked his Head of House, "I don't suppose you know when the Hogwarts school board meets next, sir?"
"How is that any of your business, Potter?"
"One of those seats belongs to my family, and since I am the Head, it behoves me to sit in it," Harry replied.
Snape was quiet for the space of nine paces, and then replied, "Three days hence at eight p.m. on the fourth floor, west wing, in the Grand Conference Room."
Harry and Draco exchanged meaningful looks.
"Thank you, sir," Harry replied.
"Now," Professor Snape said when they were all ensconced in his office, "do you know why you're here?"
Draco knew better than to answer a loaded question like that. He sat there, waiting.
Harry hadn't yet learned. "No, sir," he unwisely said.
"No," the professor sneered. "You wouldn't, would you?"
Snape got up from his desk and started prowling his office, occasionally going behind the chairs the boys were seated in as he talked – a calculated attempt to make them nervous.
"In light of your marital status I haven't said anything about the two of you sharing a bed from time to time," the professor stated (although the mental picture made him snarl to himself), "but word has got back to me that you've been seen snogging in the halls, and making suggestive remarks to each other in the Great Hall and elsewhere."
"Sir," Harry said as Snape again passed behind them, "please don't do that."
"Do what, Potter?" Snape snapped, irritated to be interrupted.
"You make me nervous when you walk behind me."
"Live with it," the man growled. "Now as I was saying—"
"Sir, it might be dangerous for you," Harry interrupted.
"Are you threatening me, Potter?" Snape asked tensely.
"No, sir; I'm trying to warn you that one of my elemental abilities has surfaced, and I don't have any control of it, yet," Harry replied.
Severus stopped in his tracks. "Which one?" he inquired.
"Lightning," Draco replied. "We were conversing, and he got frustrated. I'm afraid one of the brass snakes on the wall has hissed its last."
Draco was exaggerating, of course. Although the mini-lightning had struck the wall decoration, it had only melted out a very small hole.
Although he felt as though he was backing down – a situation which griped him to no end – Severus elected to follow the course of reason, and sat back behind his desk.
"I expect you to harness that ability in short order, Potter," Snape said severely. "We cannot have you being even more of a danger to the student body than you already are."
The unjust accusation spiked Harry's anger, and a small bolt of lightning grounded itself in a metal retort, but only because Harry had felt it coming this time, and had desperately tried to wrest its direction away from the professor. He didn't know how he'd accomplished it. But as angry as the man made him, Harry didn't want him dead.
"I told you I didn't have any control over it!" Harry almost yelled. "But you just had to be nasty, didn't you?"
Professor Snape hadn't turned so much as a hair when the lightning had leapt from the young man.
"Detention, Potter. I don't care how much you may hate me, but you will be respectful." Snape said nothing about the lightning itself; the boy had a point.
Harry sat heavily back into his chair. "What did you wish to see us about, sir?" he asked in resigned tones.
"There are school rules against displays of public affection. If you insist on keeping your marriage a secret, I shall be forced to start giving you both detentions. I'm surprised the other teachers have yet to do so."
Harry turned to his husband. "Draco?" he enquired, asking the blond's opinion. He gave a quick glance at his lover's abdomen, as well. Harry knew that witches who became pregnant without the benefit of marriage were looked down upon – especially so since there were simple spells to prevent it, and potions to be bought in Knockturn Alley to get rid of the evidence of indiscretion if one forgot the spells. Draco was neither a witch nor unmarried, but if it became known he was pregnant – well, they could just announce that they had been married long beforehand, but would they be believed? Harry didn't really care, but he knew that Draco cared a great deal about his reputation.
Draco slowly turned his head until their eyes met. There was anguish in his eyes, but slowly he nodded his head. They had been rather carefree in their displays of affection: nothing too physical other than that one time outside the kitchen entrance, but Draco had enjoyed those incidents despite his protestations, and was reluctant to give them up – or force Harry to act contrary to his nature. His husband been subjected to that for too long.
Harry turned back to the professor. He didn't like to be forced into this decision any more than Draco, but he didn't think he'd be able to stop showing Draco how much he cared. "So all we have to do is announce it?" he asked.
"I don't suppose you've registered your union at the Ministry of Magic?" Snape asked, his tone saying that he knew very well that Harry Potter couldn't have done anything so basic.
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. Why couldn't life be simple?
"Saturday – early – I will accompany both of you to the Department of Registrations," the man said, sounding quite put-upon.
"Yes, sir," Harry and Draco replied.
"Er . . . Sir?" Harry said. "Since we'll be there anyway, do you suppose Draco and I could get our Apparating licenses?"
"You will learn that next year, Potter," the professor said impatiently. "You'll not be old enough until then."
"I'm a legal adult now, sir," Harry asserted. "And since Draco is my husband..."
"You are just sixteen, are you not?" Snape demanded.
"Yes, sir. But when I received my inheritance and took over as the Head of the Potter and Black families, I was given adult status a year early," Harry said boldly.
Snape carefully leaned forward and, his elbows on his desk, pressed his palms into his eye sockets. "And I suppose that is on record?" he inquired.
"I would think so, sir. The goblins at Gringotts kept all the papers."
"And those bleeding little buggers are sticklers for the rules," the man grated out.
He looked up suddenly, fixing Harry with an intense glare. "Do you know how?" he demanded.
"No, sir."
"I can teach him, sir," Draco put in.
"Where?" Snape barked out. "Hogwarts is warded against it! And I doubt you're qualified!"
"I know perfectly well how to—"
"Yes, I am aware that Lucius taught you how, but that does not qualify you to teach the method!"
Draco's face flushed in anger. He didn't appreciate his competence being brought into question. But Professor Snape was keeping a jaundiced eye on him, so he kept quiet.
"Could you teach me, sir?" Harry asked.
"I could, Potter, but I won't. You will have to wait with the rest of your classmates."
"The rest of them don't have Voldemort chasing them, sir," Harry said, his voice tight.
o~~~~~~~~~o~~~~~~~~~o
1: Unlike in America, where the ground floor is the first floor, the British, et al, actually call the ground floor the Ground Floor. The first floor is the next one up – the first floor off the ground.
Betas: Ishe-Leigh, Sheree S., Aayesha, Dawn B. Brit Picker: Andy