No Light Without Shadows
by Draeconin
See Chapter One for disclaimer and details.
Chapter Eighteen
" . . .so if your magic hadn't been blocked," Salazar was saying, "then this might not have happened. A natural flow would likely have left these traits unexpressed, but the sudden release carried them to the fore: rather like a boulder withstanding the efforts of a stream until a massive flood comes along."
Harry didn't say anything; he just glared petulantly at the ghost. Right at the moment, he could identify with Roman emperors who killed the bearer of bad news.
Too bad Salazar was already dead.
Harry's recovery from the initial shock and reaction to his apparent change of species had been helped along by Salazar Slytherin's snide comments, and then the concentration he had to use as the ghost taught him how to 'turn off' the flow of elemental power that shock had freed. Salazar had informed him that learning how to both loose and rein in the power would take only a short while, but it would take much longer to learn to be able to control such things as intensity and aim of the lightning – and that if he had other elemental abilities, they should come in short order, now. Harry would need to work hard to learn that aspect of his power so that he wouldn't be overwhelmed by too many uncontrolled abilities at once; and above all, he would need to rein in his temper until he had that control.
Draco's rant atop that lecture had triggered Harry's somewhat hysterical laughter and calmed him down somewhat.
Harry got to his feet and swept Draco into his arms. He just held his husband tight, thanking Fate – or whoever – for Draco's loving, if sometimes acerbic presence in his life, while his gaze swept the Chamber of Secrets once again. Such a huge room. Despite feeling more than a bit emotionally drained, and since he now had someone he could ask about it, he said as much to Salazar's ghost.
"All of this, then, to house a basilisk?" Harry inquired, shoving everything else aside for now. He needed something less personally consequential to talk about.
Salazar started. "What? Of course not, boy! This is the physical training arena. Spell-casting and elemental training as well, of course."
"So that's what you meant when you said it was built to take it?" Draco asked. He kept close, but he stepped out of Harry's embrace, still breathing a bit quickly from reaction to his own, verbal, temper tantrum.
"Of course!" Salazar said impatiently.
"But . . . 'Hogwarts: A History' says you kept a basilisk down here," Harry said querulously. He hadn't read it himself, but Hermione had been more than happy to point out salient facts about various points of the castle and its history – at least, salient to her.
"Then the writer lied, lad. They're too bleeding dangerous. One moment of absent-mindedness, you look at it, and you're dead. And how, I'd like to know, would one work with or train one without looking at it? I did work with a variety of snakes, including the asp and runespoor, but I wasn't bloody stupid enough to work with basilisks."
"Is that the reason for all the snakes?" Harry asked, referring to the snake-entwined columns and other carvings.
"This was my contribution, yes," Slytherin said proudly, looking about at the Chamber.
"It's flooded," Draco said flatly.
"I did notice that," Salazar replied dryly. "If you wish to make best use of the facilities, you'll need to fix that."
"Me?" Draco protested.
But before Salazar could reply, another voice spoke out.
"Master Harry?" came Dobby's voice, from where he was standing respectfully just inside the Chamber. "Your food is being ready."
"May we discuss this while we breakfast?" Draco demanded peevishly.
"How did Riddle manage it then?" Harry asked the ghost, turning to accompany his husband as they walked to breakfast. "Training a basilisk, I mean."
"Haven't a clue, lad; stuck in my rooms, wasn't I? Quite a huge beast, though," Salazar added, having seen it pass his rooms many times on its way to the Chamber.
Harry shuddered. "It was, at that," he agreed.
"You saw it?" Salazar asked in surprise.
"Harry killed it," Draco said, quiet pride in his voice. Harry's hug had calmed him down somewhat, but despite some lingering upset, he still admired his husband's accomplishment.
"Wondered why the thing never left, last time," Salazar muttered as his eyebrows arched in surprise. "Thought I'd missed it." The boy would have been very young indeed, at that time. About three, four years ago, wasn't it? He wished his sense of time was better.
"Only after Fawkes blinded it," Harry said in response to Draco's brag, demurring full credit. "And it almost killed me even then. One of its fangs broke off in my arm. It would have done for me, if Fawkes hadn't healed me."
"Who is Fawkes?" the ghost inquired.
"Dumbledore's phoenix," Harry explained.
"Ah! Phoenix tears," the ghost said in understanding. Nothing else – in his time, at least – would have been able to heal a basilisk bite. But his respect for this young man was growing. It would have been a feat for a grown man to rightfully brag of, and yet this youth was demurring that right.
"That's right," Harry said, his mouth starting to salivate as the smells of the hot breakfast hit his nose. He was suddenly aware of being extremely hungry: not surprising, if he'd actually grown as much as Draco thought he had, let alone having been asleep for two days. Actually, now that he was thinking about it, his robes did seem to be fitting poorly – his wrists sticking out of the sleeves further than they should, and the shoulders fitting a little too snugly.
Dobby had, somehow, brought and set up a small table with a couple of chairs, and their meals were sitting on a plain tablecloth, Harry's sending up gentle waves of steam.
Harry seated himself, but hesitated. "I'm sorry to be eating in front of you, sir, but..." Harry shrugged.
Draco blushed slightly, having already tucked into his bowl of fruit, but otherwise gave no indication of hearing. It would never have occured to him to appoligise to a ghost for such a thing.
Salazar chuckled. "I don't exactly have the teeth to chew with, nor a stomach to put it in," the ghost said understandingly.
Draco gave a short, sharp nod to himself, feeling vindicated.
"Thank you, sir," Harry said, attacking his meal voraciously.
"Manners, Harry!" Draco said reprovingly.
It was a bit hypocritical of him, but it also distracted from his own almost-faux-pas.
Harry swallowed the mouthful he had before answering. "You go two days without eating: then if you've the same control, I'll listen." He didn't wait for a reply before again going after the food on his plate.
Draco fumed. Of course he'd have the same control! He was a Malfoy!
Until tomorrow, he suddenly realised. He – they – were registering their marriage at the Ministry tomorrow. As the pregnant party, the magic would recognise him as the 'wife' in their relationship even were everyone in the wizarding world to swear otherwise. Until his father and grandfather, Draco was proud of the history of the Malfoy family, though most of that family was Dark. It wasn't the Dark aspects Draco had despised, but rather bowing down and toadying to someone without even half the prestige. Power was nothing if you weren't allowed your dignity.
Harry had allowed Draco his dignity – at least where others could see. And Draco didn't mind what they did in private. He smirked slightly at some of the memories.
All the same, he was almost glad that none of his family were alive to see him come to this: none he cared about, anyway. He wasn't ashamed of their relationship, but...
Harry, in his own mind, was trying to think of how they were going to handle the consequences of their two-day disappearance, never mind explaining it, and what they might have to do – which reminded him of a quite important peripheral matter.
"Shite! The school Governors meeting is tonight!"
Still lost in his own thoughts, Draco mumbled something that might have been, "Bloody elf..."
Harry felt a strong wave of resentment that he'd been reminded of his no longer quite human status, but otherwise ignored the comment. Come to that, he realised, he never would have been completely human, even if he looked it. The thought was depressing. But getting depressed wouldn't be productive, so Harry made an effort and shook off the mood, turning to other matters.
"Salazar," he said, addressing the ghost, "when you were living down here, how did you get up into the school?" He, of course, could shadow walk to and fro, but if Draco needed to come or go without him...
Salazar gave a sly grin. "Well, lad, I had a private stairway, didn't I? Of course there is – or was – a large entrance as well, for the students."
"I've been through this entire apartment, the corridors outside, and Harry and I explored almost every tunnel out in the Chamber," Draco protested. "Where the bloody hell are they?"
"Language, lad!" Salazar objected.
Draco sat there fuming and glaring at the ghost. "Don't you give me that," he said, glowering. "You know how..." He stopped, glancing at Harry, who was obviously paying very close attention. He was still miffed with his husband, and wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd been worried about him. He settled on saying, "I could have gone to get us a change of clothing.".
"Is that what it was," Salazar mused sarcastically. "And all that wailing and worrying and gnashing of teeth you did about getting help for Harry was just a smoke screen, then?"
Harry smirked. "Aw . . . were you worried about me?" he cooed at his husband.
Draco glared at him, and then gave into the temptation and aimed a slap at the side of Harry's head. But it wasn't there when the blow should have landed, and Harry was leaning back in his chair, laughing at him.
Ignoring Draco's continued glare, Harry looked at a very amused Salazar. "So where do you hide this entrance, then?" he asked.
Salazar nodded at a wall sconce – one of many – that depicted a serpent poised to strike, its body curled around the pillar candle. Harry's house elves had to replace every one of the candles, since even the unburnt ones had become desiccated.
"Tap its head twice with your wand, then stick your wand in its mouth," the ghost instructed him.
"And why didn't you tell me this?" Draco asked frostily.
"To begin with, lad, you didn't ask," Salazar replied with a smirk, "and since Mister Potter, here, wasn't in any danger and you had house elves taking care of your needs, you didn't need it, did you?"
"So where is this so-called 'large' entrance for the students?" Draco asked, more than a little sarcasm colouring his tone. Most of his needs might have been taken care of, but he'd had to venture outside to answer the call of nature and to bathe in the rocky pool under the waterfall. Only warming charms had kept him from being totally miserable in it. Fortunately he knew some cleaning spells for his accoutrements.
"I have trouble saying, unfortunately," Salazar replied thoughtfully. "I did notice it was missing, but I've not yet investigated the matter."
Draco took this to mean that the ghost hadn't cared at all that they were stuck down there. "You do realise the amount of trouble we're likely in?" he stridently inquired.
"Little to none, I'd think, once they see Harry's ears," the ghost replied.
Harry glared at the ghost, but didn't say anything. He'd really rather not have the school population know of this. He hated being the centre of attention, and Harry was sure that being a dark elf – even if only partially so – would cause exactly that.
Harry reminded himself that he still needed to research what a dark elf was, exactly. He could ask Salazar, but Harry was feeling the need to make their presence known in the school as soon as possible.
"I'm a prefect! I have duties! And I've missed them!" Draco exclaimed tensely, one hand pointing out the rather obvious badge on his robe. "They'll think I was shirking! And where, might I inquire, are we supposed to tell them we've been?" he demanded.
"I take it the truth wouldn't do?" Salazar inquired, looking only mildly interested.
"I'd rather not," Harry said, breaking in. "I'd prefer to be able to use this place secretly."
The old ghost looked puzzled. "Why?"
"I have told you of Voldemort, Dumbledore, and the bloody useless Ministry of Magic?" Harry inquired.
"And that prophecy for which, from what you've told me, you've only your headmaster's word," Salazar acknowledged.
That gave Harry pause. "You have a point," he said thoughtfully. "But I really can't see any other reason Voldemort would have come after me."
He shook his head, as if physically shaking those thoughts from his mind. "We can discuss that at another time. Draco's right; we really do need to be getting back."
"I do wish I could hide these bloody things, though," Harry added, referring to his ears.
"Use an illusion spell, lad," Salazar replied.
"Love to, but I don't know any," Harry replied in turn, sending a questioning look at Draco.
"A couple," Draco said, answering Harry's unvoiced question, "but none that are effective on living beings. Father was going to teach me some this past summer, but..."
But Lucius had been arrested, along with his compatriots, for breaking into the Department of Mysteries and attempting to steal a prophecy, along with other related crimes. Although Draco had been upset by his father's imprisonment, he hadn't been looking forward to his harsh teaching methods. And then, of course, old Snake Face had to try to recruit him. Draco scowled at the memory.
"The quality of education truly has decreased," Salazar mused, leading both teenagers to wonder what the curriculum may have once been like.
"Try 'Vulticulus Novo'1," the ghost instructed. "Since you'll be casting it on yourself, I'd suggest using a mirror. Picture clearly what you wish to project, and then cast the spell."
"I've heard of that," Draco said, looking as though he was dredging up a very old memory. "Or rather, I think I read a mention of it somewhere."
"Do you remember anything else about it?" Harry asked.
Draco shook his head, sending his husband an apologetic look. "I'm afraid not," he said. "I don't believe there was anything else: just the name of the spell in passing while talking about something else entirely."
Ten minutes of instruction and an hour of practise later, with additional coaching from Salazar, Harry again looked like his old self. Draco had practised the spell as well of course, for a variety of reasons, only one of which was disguise. He'd be able to hide his growing belly, and was looking forward to 'pranking' a few very obnoxious people, although he thought of it as 'teaching a lesson' or 'revenge'.
"Thank you, Salazar," Harry said. "And now we really must be rejoining the rest of the school."
"And what are we going to tell them?" Draco asked again.
Harry frowned. "I don't know," he admitted.
"Wait," Harry exclaimed as inspiration hit him. "How about this, then? We were out in the forest, and I got hexed. Only . . . only it collided with the Expelliarmus I cast, and it knocked me out. Being in the forest, Draco didn't dare leave me to get help!"
"If you cast a spell, Harry, at whom were you casting it?" Draco asked doubtfully.
"A Death Eater?"
"Oh? Yes, then? What colour was the spell cast at you?"
"Ah . . . I think there were a few colours, but the only one I can recall is a light yellow. I didn't have time to study it."
"Make it a muddy purple," Draco instructed. "But what was I doing?"
"You were inspecting a plant you thought you could use in potions," Harry expounded, getting into the weaving of the tale, "and didn't see anything until I yelled a warning. All you saw was the magical explosion as the spells collided. You cast a spell at the Death Eater, and they ran away."
"Sounds very weak to me, Harry," Draco observed, although he liked that he was cast as the hero. "I'm almost ashamed to call you a Slytherin."
Harry made a face at him. "Well, I haven't the practice at it you lot have, do I?"
Draco eyed his husband sadly. "Harry, a First Year Slytherin could do better!"
"Well then, you come up with something!" Harry said peevishly.
With that he walked over to the wall sconce and, using his legal wand, tapped the snake head as he'd been directed, then stuck his wand in its mouth. For a second nothing happened, then a section of wall separated, opening up to either side and revealing a tightly winding spiral staircase.
"It wasn't that bad a tale, lad," Salazar told Draco sternly, "although it could use some polishing."
Draco didn't reply, determinedly making his way for the staircase. He started when it began rotating as his foot hit the second step, and clung tightly to the railing as the stairs carried him upwards.
"Nothing to worry about, Draco," Harry reassured him as he also stepped onto the stairs. "Dumbledore's does this, too."
Draco didn't reply as he was fighting a slight disorientation caused by the moving stairs. Even now, however, it was weakening as Salazar's reprimand leeched into his mind.
The light quickly disappeared, and Harry cast a lightly powered 'Lumos' on his wand, as had Draco. A few seconds later the stairs deposited them in a small room, about four feet square. Not having to use mortal means of transportation, Salazar was awaiting them.
"The password is 'Mister Perkins' daring deed'," the ghost informed them.
Not stopping to wonder about it, Harry addressed the wall the ghost had indicated and spoke the password.
The wall opened into what appeared to be an unused storage cupboard. Harry tapped the opening with his wand, and it disappeared without a trace. Upon exiting the door of that cupboard, Harry and Draco found themselves in a familiar corridor on the ground floor in the rear of the castle. They had used it often to get to the greenhouses for Herbology.
Draco made close note of the location of the cupboard. He saw that Harry was doing the same. Too, Draco was starting to wonder if he had been too harsh. He didn't apologise, but he did snuggle up to Harry for a quick hug.
Harry understood, and hugged his husband back, forgiving him.
"Thank you, Salazar," Harry said.
"I'll be around, lad," the ghost replied.
Both young men nodded in acknowledgement, then quickly walked off towards the entrance to their dungeons, on the other side of the castle.
They wound up using Harry's story, although Draco elaborated on it, making changes where he thought it necessary. Unfortunately for them, nobody seemed to believe it. But when both Harry and Draco refused to budge from their tale, the matter was dropped. That is, the matter of their story was dropped. Neither Dumbledore nor Professor Snape were the least happy with them for their disappearance, and they received a long lecture about what lengths had been gone to, to search for them, and the dangers of going off alone without informing anyone of their destination.
Professor Snape gave them both a week's worth of detentions, and Professor Dumbledore took thirty points off Slytherin for each of them, which had all three Slytherins glaring at the old man.
Albus Dumbledore sadly watched his former protégé leave his office. He had slowly and reluctantly come to the conclusion that Harry probably had cause to distrust him. In his own mind he had only done what he thought best, but that hadn't always necessarily meant what was best for Harry, although he had thought he'd minimised any negative side-effects. In retrospect though, it might have been better to have kept a closer eye on young Mister Potter's progress with his Muggle relatives – looked in to see how he was doing every six months or so.
And he did so love knowing things that other people didn't. It was so amusing to see them floundering or making fools of themselves. But perhaps he should have restrained that penchant of his, at least a little.
It did appear as though Harry was keeping his own secrets, though. The old illusion spell the young man had used was good, but the talent for being able to see through illusions ran in Albus' family. It had skipped several of his family members, but he seemed to have received a double portion.
"You'll be washing out cauldrons tonight, Mister Potter," Professor Snape snarled back at his least favourite House member as he strode quickly and purposefully ahead of them towards the dungeons, "and without the use of magic."
Draco watched the professor's robes billow jealously. He'd been trying for years to get his own robes to do the same thing.
"You, Mister Malfoy—"
"I'm afraid tonight is out of the question, sir," Harry interrupted grimly.
Snape came to an abrupt stop, almost causing Harry and Draco to run into him. He pivoted to face them.
"What did you say, Mister Potter?" he almost purred.
"I've a school governors meeting to attend tonight," Harry explained.
"You won't be attending," the professor replied with some satisfaction.
Draco spoke up. "Didn't Father have an assistant that was fired from the Ministry for interfering with—"
Snape snarled at him, half-raising a hand in threat.
Harry stepped between them. "That wouldn't be a good idea, sir," he said, his eyes now golden, his voice tense. He held himself in check by only the slimmest of margins. He and Draco were already in enough trouble.
"Harry!" Draco protested, stepping out from behind his husband. He appreciated Harry wanting to protect him, but really! He could take care of himself! He had been more than a bit surprised that his Head of House would raise a hand to him however, and was quite reasonably incensed about it.
"Are you threatening me, Potter?"
"Are you sure you want to push me, sir?" Harry inquired tautly. "You'll not lay a hand on him." Harry again fought down his temper, then said, "And while I'm willing to do the detentions, it will be only when they do not interfere with my duties as the Head of three family lines."
Snape smirked triumphantly. "That, Mister Potter, just earned you another week of detentions," he said.
Harry glared, and sparks danced off his fingertips, causing Snape to take a cautious half-step backwards, reaching for his wand, before he remembered himself and drew himself up imperiously.
"I expected nothing less of you, sir," Harry said in a carefully neutral voice, "but I will be attending to my duties, regardless."
Severus stared at the boy in bemusement, then wordlessly turned and walked off down the corridor, forgetting to set Draco's detention. When he recalled it later, the blond was set to polishing the trophies in the trophy room.
Harry walked into the room where the Hogwarts Board of Governors meeting was to take place, and immediately had the room's occupants' attention.
"Here, now!" one man blustered. "What's this, then? This isn't one of your classrooms, child!"
"Firstly, sir," Harry replied, already insulted at having been called a child, "I am the head of three families, despite my youth. I am here to assume one of the duties I have inherited."
He held up his hands to show them the signet rings when their expressions showed their scepticism. After their acknowledgment of his right to be there, plus some shock and questioning about the Dæmentelen ring, Harry spoke out. "Who here is sitting the Potter seat on this board?"
"I am," another man announced. "But I was under the impression that you were still under age?"
"I am sixteen, but was granted adult status when I inherited the family mantles," Harry explained, determined to remain calm until he had sussed out the facts. Was the man complicit in usurping Harry's seat on the board, or an innocent man manipulated by Dumbledore?
"May I inquire as to your identity, sir?" Harry asked.
"My apologies. I am Robert Humphries," the man replied.
"Thank you, Mister Humphries; but may I ask why you have never consulted with me?" Harry realised the answer as soon as he'd asked the question; he was underage, and therefore his opinions could be ignored. However, politeness should have indicated at least a token meeting between them at some point.
Mister Humphries looked perplexed. "Professor Dumbledore has been relaying your opinions to me," he said uncertainly.
Harry was surprised to not have his age thrown in his face. Perhaps he should have been consulted? He would act on that assumption, anyway.
"That he has not, si—" He was interrupted.
"Mister Potter?" It was the headmaster, just arriving.
Harry swivelled around, his eyes giving off a metallic glint. "We were just discussing you, sir," Harry revealed. "Curiously, Mister Humphries seems to be of the opinion that you have been relaying my opinions of school policy to him. Of course that would presume that you had been keeping me informed." Harry's voice took on a decidedly chilly tone with that last sentence.
Albus waved one hand dismissively. "Just a misunderstanding, I'm sure," he said.
"No, sir. No misunderstanding," Mister Humphries interjected firmly, looking askance at the old man.
"What is going on here, Albus?" one of the few women in the group demanded.
Harry eyed the headmaster intently, wondering how the old man was going to try to squirm out of this situation.
Smiling benignly, Professor Dumbledore replied, "As I said, Mrs Fieldling, it is nothing – a trifle."
"When would you have informed me that I owned a seat on this board, sir?" Harry asked, his voice deepening with his growing anger.
"You weren't even aware of that fact?" Mister Humphries exclaimed.
"I had to find out from my inheritance papers," Harry replied, not taking his eyes from the headmaster.
"After taking care of your affairs for so many years, my dear boy, it became habit," Albus said. "I'm afraid that it didn't occur to me: a mere oversight."
Harry gave him a glare that said almost as clearly as words, 'You're a liar, but I'll let it go, for now.' He needed to stay under control. To do otherwise would say to the other Governors that he was the immature child he had been taken for when he entered. His influence on the board depended on them accepting him as an equal.
A few noticed that his eyes had gone golden, reinforcing the young man's claim to the mantle of the Dæmentelin family. His control of his temper reassured them however, calming any incipient fears.
"I must offer my most sincere apologies, Mister Potter," Mister Humphries said sincerely. "I had no idea."
Harry abruptly turned to the man and smiled graciously. "I'm quite sure of that, sir," he said, extending his hand.
The implication of his words did not escape most of those present – that Albus Dumbledore was in the habit of doing similar things.
Mister Humphries accepted it and shook Harry's hand, adding a small bow, and grateful that he had not been implicated in the blame. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way, then. It has been a pleasure to meet you, Mister Potter," he said.
"And you, sir. It is always a pleasure to meet an honest man, Mister Humphries," Harry replied.
The man's expression relaxed at this indication that Harry didn't hold him culpable.
Someone cleared their throat. "If we can bring this meeting to order, then?" a man said.
After the round of introductions at the beginning of the meeting, Harry had also kept a close eye on Crandall Trotter, while trying to appear not to do so. He had caught the man's shifty gaze on him a few times, accompanied by the faintest of sneers. The man's attitude certainly bespoke animosity, and fit with someone who had something to hide.
As was to be expected, Harry was out of his depth in the meeting, but didn't hesitate to ask for clarifications and explanations when necessary. When it came to votes, Harry added his, except where he felt there were peripheral issues and ramifications that he didn't understand as yet. He also abstained from voting when the rest of the board brought up the issue of investigating the ethics of Albus Dumbledore's actions regarding Harry's seat on the board of Governors.
The headmaster remained stonily silent during that portion of the meeting, his eyes boring into Harry, or attempting to solicit sympathetic support from the board members with looks of injured dignity.
When the Chairman asked them all if they had any suggestions or concerns, Harry suggested that the Governors be the body to investigate, interview, and hire new teachers, rather that the headmaster. When asked his reasons, and despite Professor Dumbledore's attempts to redirect the board towards other subjects (for which he was reprimanded), Harry brought up the problems with the DADA professors over the years, as well as Professors Binns and Trelawney. True, Trelawney was no longer a present issue, but she was indicative of the problem.
"Only a few die-hard scholars have been able to refrain from going to sleep in that class, he's so boring," Harry said of Binns.
"It's not because he's a ghost, then?" one board member asked.
"Not at all," Harry professed. "I've had some very interesting conversations with Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington – better known as 'Nearless Headless Nick' – and a few other ghosts." Nods of the head from some indicated their recognition of the nickname, even if they hadn't known the ghost's proper name. Harry didn't know if Salazar wanted his presence known as yet, and so kept quiet about him. "Professor Binns, I'm afraid, just drones on and on, making no effort to make the material interesting."
Having had experience of the ghost's lessons themselves as children, several of the board members nodded in understanding.
"We shall take the matter under advisement, and discuss it at the next meeting," the Chair said.
Not having any experience to base an opinion on, Harry still thought that the Governors meeting last night, with the exception of their decision to investigate Headmaster Dumbledore (with which decision Harry was very pleased), was likely typical. Most of the meeting had to do with funding, ways of reducing costs, do we really need that many house elves, and so on.
Now they were walking down a corridor on the fifth sublevel of the Ministry of Magic towards the Department of Records.
"Draco can take his Apparating test, anyway," Harry argued. "Once our marriage is registered, he'll also have adult status. And as my spouse, he might have need of the ability if someone decided to go after him again or, the gods forefend, some Death Eater tried to kidnap him. I'd hate him being locked away because he wasn't licensed."
Snape hesitated, then gave one sharp nod.
Draco put a hand on Harry's arm to get his attention, then stopped. Harry looked at him curiously.
"I want a ceremony, Potter," Draco told him.
Harry opened his mouth to object, but the words didn't come. Instead, he nodded. It was a small enough thing, and he'd feel more married that way, too.
"Stop your dawdling, Potter!" Snape snapped out as soon as he noticed he wasn't being followed.
Harry glared at the man, but pressed his lips tightly together. For awhile yet, at least, they needed Snape's cooperation.
Twenty minutes later, after being tested by the clerk to make sure that a bond did exist, they started filling out the simple paperwork.
"Do you recall the date we bonded?" Harry asked Draco. "The twenty-first of August, wasn't it?"
"The eighteenth, Potter," Draco corrected reproachfully. He could hardly forget; it was burnt into his memory.
"Oh. Sorry."
When the paperwork was complete they requested a civil ceremony, and soon Harry and Draco were saying their vows. But this time was purposeful, and they were able to internalise the fact of their wedding.
The ceremony was over, and though it wasn't a part of wizarding marriage ceremonies as it was in most Muggle traditions, Harry kissed his husband quite thoroughly. If it wasn't for Snape's irritable throat-clearing, it might have gone on for some time.
Soon after receiving their copies of their marriage registration, they headed down to the Apparation testing site, where Draco passed the test with ease, and received his license.
o~~~~~~~~~o~~~~~~~~~o
Vulticulus Novo: Alter Appearance – an illusion spell
A/N: Idea for Chamber of Secrets to be a magical/physical training area provided by Andy S. – my Brit-picker
Betas: Dream Howler, Sheree S., Dawn B., Ishe-Leigh, Aayesha
Brit-picker: Andy