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"The Ministry will raid your house two days from now."
Ledbetter's voice was hoarse and quiet, as if he had spent a long time raging against the injustice of life. His face was set in lines like iron. Draco stepped back from him and glanced instinctively towards Harry.
Harry took a breath that seemed to swell his chest out, held it in for so long Draco became worried about him, and then released it. "Does your information come from Swanfair's spy?" he asked. "Or from someone else?"
"You may call him a spy." Ledbetter's face folded into harsher lines. "But I call him a dear friend."
Harry smiled and relaxed at that. Apparently, he trusted any friends Ledbetter had in the Ministry. Draco could appreciate why, after hearing the man's explanation of his own high morals, but he still would have liked some more reassurance.
"Do you know if it will be in the morning or the afternoon?" he asked. Perhaps trying to elicit more details would tell him whether or not the story was trustworthy.
"It's scheduled for the morning." Ledbetter's iron lines relaxed into hardly more flexible lines of distaste. "Perhaps the Minister thinks there will be more people awake to witness the humiliation of your being arrested then."
Draco nodded. "Then that leaves us a little less than two days to get ready," he said.
"Indeed." Ledbetter picked up his cloak from the floor of the training room, where he usually dropped it when he began their dueling sessions, and slid it around his shoulders with a flourish. "There will be no lesson tomorrow, so that you can prepare, and none the day after, when the raid is scheduled to happen. But after that, I expect regular lessons to resume."
Harry nodded. Draco stepped forwards and gave Ledbetter an intense look. "You won't stay and help us fight them? I thought that you were opposed to the Ministry." He couldn't help it; he distrusted a man who so obviously distrusted him and Severus, and put up with them only because they were irrevocably linked to Harry. At least him fighting the Ministry would have been a nice way to prove his loyalty.
Ledbetter gave him a grim smile. "In that, I mistrust myself, not my morals. I would be tempted to be harsher than necessary if I faced people who were acting under the orders of that—" He closed his eyes and shook his head. "And I do not wish to injure people who believe they are acting for the best and only following orders. I wish to injure the Minister."
Draco reckoned he had to accept that, especially when he saw the approving look on Harry's face. He was still uncomfortable, but if Ledbetter wasn't with them, then he wouldn't be able to cause trouble on either side.
Besides, they had more important things to think about, as Harry pointed out by spinning around and grinning the moment Ledbetter left the room. "What kind of traps would most humiliate and embarrass the Minister?" he asked.
*
Harry gasped and opened his eyes. His heart was hammering as though he'd had a nightmare. He lay still, filling his mind with the deliberately dull sight of the ceiling. When he felt he could, he closed his eyes and rolled over in the bed again, burying his face in the pillow. Maybe he could get back to sleep if he relaxed enough. There was still a warm, heavy languor in his muscles, and he was tired.
Then he felt the sticky coolness in his pyjamas, and remembered, or realized, exactly where that languor came from.
It hadn't been a nightmare.
It might as well be, Harry thought, lifting his head and wiping the back of his hand across his forehead and eyes. He tried to concentrate on the feeling of his skin and nothing else, but it was no good. The thoughts stampeded through his mind and circled back again, trampling every defense he tried to raise against them. I'm spying on Draco and Severus's dreams.
But in the end, he couldn't hold on to that belief. Severus had told him that the blending of dreams was a natural change in the bond. Either they were all spies on each other's dreams, or none of them were spies at all.
Harry sighed and sat up against his pillows, fumbling for his glasses so that he could see the face of the clock. Three-thirty in the morning. Of course it was. When he woke up at night and worried about whether he would survive Auror training or whether he really loved Ginny, it always seemed to be at three-thirty, too.
He didn't know if Draco and Severus were awake. He didn't think he wanted to know. He couldn't remember enough of the dream to care about it, either. Just that it had happened, and there had been smooth skin and sliding limbs and tongues going where he never thought tongues could go—
Harry laughed in spite of himself. Well, obviously you remember enough.
He struggled in silence with his feelings of guilt and violating Draco and Severus's privacy, and finally managed to come to the same conclusion he had about his jealousy. Those feelings were going to exist, in the same way that he was going to feel jealous. But if the change in the bond was natural, then they wouldn't blame him. Eventually, he would get used to the dreams, and probably be able to ignore them.
With a little huff, Harry lay down again, hoping that, this time, Draco and Severus would dream of something normal, like Voldemort or running away from a bunch of headless enemies, instead of sex.
That was probably Draco's dream, he decided as his eyes slid shut. He has a hyperactive libido.
*
Severus tried not to wince as he guided the line of a ward carefully up the stairs in order to lay a trap for any overenthusiastic Ministry raiders. The first of their blended dreams last night had awakened Draco quite thoroughly, and then he'd decided that he should wake Severus up in turn and try out some of the things he'd seen in the dream. Severus didn't regret the loss of sleep, but Draco had been…thorough.
Severus had tried to keep an eye on Harry for most of the morning, wondering what effect their dream would have had on him, but Harry had been elusive, volunteering to take the upstairs rooms to ward and trap while Severus and Draco worked on the lower floors. Severus had thought about confronting him, but that seemed likely to produce bad results.
He has a right to be embarrassed. He probably also has the same ridiculous concerns about privacy that he expressed to me when he peered through the door as Draco and I were sleeping. Let him have his space for the moment to come to terms with the inevitable.
"Are you sure that I can't use the Limb-Stripping Curse?" Draco's voice asked wistfully from the dining room.
"Do you want the Ministry to have reason to prosecute us for Dark Arts?" Severus eyed the stairs critically, then nodded. The ward was not the miracle of tangling and obfuscation that he would have made if he had had more time, but it was extremely good for an hour's work that morning. Severus permitted himself a small smile. Of course it is, if I made it.
You're bragging, Draco's voice snapped in his head, accompanied by a curling red wave that Severus had already learned to identify as Draco's irritation. Stop grinning at your own cleverness and help me decide on the spells we can use.
"Harry made a list of them for you yesterday," Severus called over his shoulder, deciding that he would not yet indulge Draco's taste for drama by speaking silently. He wanted to control the pace at which the new bond affected them. It was possible, he had learned from his reading, that it would not be exactly the same as the bond that tied them to Harry, since he and Draco bore only one phoenix mark each. "Refer to it."
Draco's indistinct grumbling came up the stairs, accompanied by an arrow-sharp thought: Sometimes I think that you're as afraid of the bond as he is.
"Rather," Severus responded, "I prefer to concentrate on the dangers in front of us. When you can reconcile common sense with fear, then do let me know. In the meantime, overcome your own inexplicable terror of reading the instructions before you presume to lecture me."
More grumbling, but no thought this time. Severus gave a thin smile and turned to spread a similar but not identical ward up the other side of the stairs.
A vicious chuckle sounded from above him. Severus turned, leaning an arm on the banister, so that he could look up towards Harry's bedroom. "It sounds as if you are having fun," he said.
"I am." Harry stuck his head out of the door of his bedroom and grinned. "Imagining the expressions on the Aurors' faces when they stumble into these traps, at least." He paused. "Do you think that most people will believe that we just happened to have these traps strung all over the house? I didn't think of that. Maybe, if we prepare too much, then it'll point to the existence of Swanfair's spy."
"That is a good thought," Severus said, because he wanted to encourage Harry to think like this, foresighted and nuanced. It would make him more relaxed and more likely to accept the bond in the future, if not now. "But we must trust that the spy, if he has not been caught so far, can take precautions to conceal himself. And you forget that what the public loves more than anything else is a show, not an argument. A few people may despise us for apparently knowing about the raid and trapping those who participated in it rather than making a dignified protest. The more sensible will know that we knew, but also realize that a dignified protest to the government means nothing when it is the government sending the raiders. And the great majority will be entertained by our cleverness and support us because of that."
Harry grinned at him and turned to cast one last murmured charm into his bedroom. "Did you ever think of going into politics?" he asked. "It sounds like you'd be pretty good at it."
"I learned what I know from watching students and Death Eaters maneuver," Severus corrected him. "That is enough to teach me much of how the world runs, but not enough to give me the political contacts and charm necessary to succeed in the public arena. And I have never particularly cared for manipulation, except as a tool of revenge and to protect my privacy. I much prefer the quiet comfort of books and theories, of cauldrons and a lab."
Harry stepped out into the corridor and looked down at him. The bond was thick with several muted emotions, blending into each other, and Severus did not have time to disentangle them before Harry spoke again.
"I never thought about how hard that must have been for you," he said lowly. "All the things that you were required to do, as a spy and as a teacher. Because you had to keep up your mask as a teacher, too, didn't you? I know you did."
Severus nodded cautiously, wondering if this would lead to an outburst on Harry's part concerning how Severus had treated him in the past. "I did not enjoy most of my duties," he said dryly. "Of course, I defy anyone to enjoy marking sixty essays written by Hufflepuffs."
Harry didn't seem to hear that. He leaned forwards instead, peering at Severus, and then said, "When the bonds were open both ways, I—I felt that you think your past is a weight on you that's never going to go away and that you can't stop regretting. Would it help if I shared my memories? If I showed you some of the ways that I've dealt with Voldemort and—other things, and got past them?"
Severus held still. He felt as if he would crack open if he spoke now—or his voice would croak, which would be too revealing in and of itself.
You don't need to talk aloud if you think this is presumptuous of me, Harry said in his mind. When Severus glanced up at him, his face was red and he was clinging onto the banister for dear life. Severus decided the thought had probably been sent deliberately to him.
"It is not presumptuous," he murmured. He wouldn't speak silently to Harry when he had forbidden his mental voice to Draco. "It is—unexpected. But yes, I would like to see your memories if you wish to share them."
Harry nodded, and bright golden relief separated itself from the rest of the emotions in the bond. "Good. I wanted—I wanted some way to show you that I accepted the full bond, without insulting you."
"Why would I be insulted?" Severus moved one step up the stairs. Harry didn't seem to notice, his eyes carefully studying Severus's face.
"Because it might have implied that you were too weak to handle your memories on your own," Harry said, "or that I pitied you. And I don't."
"I know that," Severus said. "I would have felt it through the bond if you did."
Harry flushed again. "I forget, sometimes," he muttered, his fingers playing a nervous tattoo on the banister. The relief had collapsed once more into the mire of emotions that filled the bond. "It's strange to think that someday I'll have lived longer with the bond like this than I did without it."
Severus felt some of the tight muscles in his chest ease. That signaled that, some time in the future, Harry would manage to accept the bond fully. "It is the kind of thing that can only become familiar with time," he said calmly. "Did any of us ever anticipate that we would end up linked at all, let alone with an accidental magic bond that also defeated the Dark Lord? I do not think so."
Harry grinned at him. "No, I didn't anticipate being linked to either of you." He paused, then added, "But wouldn't you and Draco have ended up linked? Because you became lovers, I mean."
"It is doubtful that we would have become lovers without so many circumstances in common," Severus said. "We spent enough time with each other to learn to tolerate each other's faults. And of course we were the only ones who knew what it meant to have your marks on our arms." He touched his phoenix without taking his gaze from Harry. This could be one of the most important moments he would ever have with Harry, and he was determined to get it right. "You are quite as strongly linked to us as we are linked to each other."
Harry opened his mouth and stared at him with soft eyes. Then he gave a mocking little smile Severus didn't understand and shook his head. "The most important person to a lover is the other lover," he said.
"Do you not understand?" Severus took a step up the stairs. He wished the bonds were open both ways, so that Harry could feel the full force of his perplexity—and be reminded of his desire. "We both want you."
"I know that," said Harry, giving Severus a look of annoyance while the bond turned clear, as if he were the one who needed reminding about something. "But lots of people want someone and yet don't turn their backs on their lovers. Desire is one thing. Love is another. I know that. You don't need to worry that I'm going to come between you."
Severus stared, stupefied. How in the world can he assume that we would not be willing to share with him?
And then his new knowledge of Harry answered him. Why should Harry assume that a sexual relationship between three people was possible? He had grown up in a Muggle environment that undoubtedly would not have encouraged such ideas. He had not heard the tales of bonds that made almost any actions of a pair or trio of bondmates in relation to each other acceptable. He had heard countless tales of his parents' marriage and how they had suited each other.
(Severus had to pause here to swallow bitterness. His love for Lily existed in the past and did not intrude on the present, but he still did not think she had been suited to James Potter and resented the people who said so).
Of course Harry would probably want a marriage like his parents', and he would believe most people around him wanted the same thing: the tight, exclusive, cozy nest of a pair alone.
"I might resent you for it and be jealous sometimes," Harry said, speaking quickly, as if the words embarrassed him and he wanted them done with. "I'm afraid that's just the way I am." He smiled, and the smile was not at all convincing. "But I won't try to break you up, and I won't monopolize either you or Draco. I promise."
"Severus!" Draco called from the ground floor before Severus could correct the many, many mistaken perceptions that Harry had just revealed. "I need your help."
Harry chuckled indulgently. "I think you should go help him," he said. "I studied the wards you put up on the other side of the stairs carefully, and I can finish them, I'm certain." He gave Severus a tiny push.
I should stay and discuss this with him—
But a glance into Harry's eyes showed that he would shut down if Severus tried, so Severus yielded with ill grace and went down to see what Draco wanted.
There will be time to make him understand. There must be time.
*
The Ministry raiders came an hour after dawn.
Draco, stationed behind the garden wall under a Disillusionment Charm, gave a grim smile when he saw the ripple of movement that marked Disillusioned Aurors sneaking towards their house. Really, this charm was best used when you could stay still. It was ridiculously easy to spot once you knew what you were looking for.
Then he told himself to stop speculating like that and start paying attention to what the raiders were doing. He had volunteered to be the first one to meet them, and he would let Severus and Harry down if he drifted off into dreams and didn't trigger the traps.
Still, for a moment more he paid attention to something other than the Aurors—in this case, the bonds that linked him to his partners and let him feel what they were feeling. From Severus was quiet readiness, with the image of a crocodile lurking in a black pond. Draco grinned. The Aurors, no matter how battle-trained they were, would tangle with more than they could handle should they assault Severus.
Harry's bond tumbled with a mixture of emotions, red anger and blue anxiety doing cartwheels. Draco shook his head. In one way, he wished there had been more time that morning to reassure Harry before the attack, but he also knew that Harry would have been worried about him and Severus no matter how long they spent talking. Harry still had that stupid Gryffindor perception that he was the one who had to face everything and take the harshest punishment, and if he didn't, there was something wrong.
Enough speculation, Severus's voice said crisply in Draco's mind, which made Draco start and wonder exactly what his emotions had been showing to Severus. They are almost here. Stand ready.
I am, Draco said indignantly, but he was unable to muffle another grin, because this was an advantage that their enemies could have no idea existed and which they had no way to eavesdrop on.
I like being better than other people, he confessed to Severus.
Pay some bloody attention, Harry snapped.
Draco faced the Aurors again with a martyred sigh. Why was it that no one believed him when he said that he could deal with certain things? It had been his brilliance behind the setup of the defensive plan in the first place.
The Aurors reached the garden wall and examined it carefully. Then one who looked tall—that was, he displaced more air under the Disillusionment Charm—stepped forwards and raised his wand. The first few wards began to curl back and fry under the pressure of his magic like ants frying in the sun through a lens.
Draco held still. This wasn't the time to strike. Those first few wards were easy to destroy because they wanted the Aurors to be overconfident and believe they hadn't alerted anyone.
Sure enough, Draco saw them spread out around the central one and watch instead of checking for traps the way he was certain that he would have done if he was with them. The wards were burning off steadily. Soon they would reach the wards that Severus had set up that detected the intentions of people coming into the house, and those would make such an alarm that Draco doubted the Aurors would expect them to sleep through it.
That made now the moment to attack.
Draco crouched down further, just to be absolutely sure that no one could see him, and then waved his wand and murmured the words that Severus had made him repeat several times, though as far as Draco could see there was nothing very hard about them. "Amicio eos cum caeno."
The air in front of Draco began to rotate, and then a cloud of dirt rose from the flowerbeds where he'd concealed it and flew straight at the Aurors. The moving air acted like a fan, hurling the dirt in rippling patterns that were impossible to dodge. In moments, the Aurors, spluttering and outlined by the dirt, were almost as visible as they would have been if the Disillusionment Charms were canceled.
Draco chuckled. The dirt was a minor inconvenience, but it was sticky and wet on the bottom and would cling to their robes. Not only did it outline them, it got into their eyes and won Draco a few moments to cast the next spell.
And there was another purpose for the dirt, too, though Draco doubted that any of the Aurors would guess that before they ran straight into it.
Disgusted and irritated shouting erupted from Draco's victims. Some of them paused to brush themselves off. Others were wiser and lifted Shield Charms to absorb whatever spells were coming next.
Let them, Draco thought in glee, and then sketched a pattern of crosses with his wand in midair as he murmured, "Depilo eos."
The spell, a boomerang of blue light, traveled up from his wand and arched neatly over the Shield Charms, falling on the Aurors from above. In a flash, all of their hair was gone. More than one Auror yelped in consternation and flailed about, either trying to understand what had happened or trying to cope with sudden baldness. Draco laughed.
Now, Severus urged in his head. You remember the incantations I taught you?
I remember all the incantations that you taught me, Draco retorted haughtily, and raised his wand again.
Better than you remember potions, it seems.
Draco scowled and concentrated with all his might on the next words, so that Severus wouldn't have a choice but to be impressed with him. "Finite Incantatem Adseveranter!"
The power of the spell, a stronger version of the normal Finite, shook him as it departed his wand. He could see why it wasn't used more often; most wizards would lose control of it and lash about wildly with their magic.
The spell spread out around the Shield Charms and the Disillusionment Charms, as well as the other spells that the Aurors might be readying, and destroyed them comprehensively. Draco chuckled again as he watched the Aurors stare at their wands, and then at each other, in consternation. There was a reason he had used spells that were over quickly; the sticky dirt was clinging to them because it was wet alone, without needing magic to keep it on.
He Confounded them quickly, while they were still gaping at each other and before they could raise defenses. Then he removed his own Disillusionment Charm, stood up, stuck his tongue out, put his fingers in his ears, and waggled them. It was exactly the sort of thing that his father had forbidden him to do when he was a child, and the gesture brought a delicious sense of freedom with it.
He turned and ran towards the house as they yelled and fired a few spells that missed. Severus had taught him a more powerful version of the ConfundusCharm, too. From now on, the Aurors would act like they were mildly drunk.
They stampeded after him, of course, shouting for him to stop by order of the Ministry. Draco ducked into the dueling room that Ledbetter had made out of the aviary, casting spells that would ensure they couldn't see the door. Their words were an unexpected, but very welcome, addition to the evidence he and his bondmates were gathering that it was the Ministry who had it in for them.
The Aurors entered the house cautiously, glancing from left to right and jabbing their wands at shadows. Draco whispered one last spell, triggering a time-delayed charm that blew feathers down from the ceiling. The feathers stuck in the dirt that clung to the Aurors and confused them further, not to mention making them look ridiculous.
If anyone can see them, anyway, Harry's voice said in Draco's head. You forgot to turn the walls transparent so the neighbors can see in and watch them make fools of themselves.
Draco cursed softly and fumbled for his wand. Harry stopped him with a snort. Don't worry, Severus already did it. Just remember next time.
I sincerely hope that we won't have to handle many more of these raids, Severus said dryly. Their mental voices, Draco had quickly discovered, were muffled versions of their speaking ones. In the future, however, Draco, you may want keep in mind the value of memory.
Draco flushed and crouched down further. Well, he had done his part, and done it well. The rest of the defense was up to Severus and Harry.
*
Eventually, as Severus had known they would, the Aurors got tired of fumbling about on the first two floors and finding only common objects, all warded with Stinging Hexes and Tripping Jinxes, and turned their attention to the second floor.
He could, of course, wait until the wards on the stairs had taken care of the Aurors. But he wanted a more active part in the proceedings, and he intended to take it.
As the first of them set his foot on the bottom step, Severus murmured a spell that he had created through modification of the Confundus Charm, and placed in both his old Potions book and the one he had given Harry for Christmas. Whether Harry had traveled far enough in his study of the book to learn the spell or recognize its effects, Severus did not know. But he would appreciate what Severus had done in greater detail if he had.
The Aurors began to slip and stagger as though the steps were coated with butter. Severus leaned against the wall at the top of the stairs, where he stood concealed by a Disillusionment Charm, and smiled slightly. The spell attacked the inner ear of each Auror, upsetting their balance and making them feel as if the house were spinning around them.
Nothing illegal. Nothing Dark. Only confusion and common pranks. When one Auror vomited, it was an unexpected bonus. Severus maintained the spell for a few seconds longer, then canceled it with a whispered Finite.
The Aurors recovered themselves with care this time, and sent two scouts up the stairs while the rest waited at the bottom. Severus commended their caution, though it had come too late to prevent them from being covered with mud and feathers and giving away their identity, not to mention looking like fools in front of any citizens of Hogsmeade who were watching.
The scouts reached the top of the stairs without travail. The twin wards Severus and Harry had cast were instructed to give any intruders a chance to back out if they would take it. But the moment the scouts' feet went past the ends of the railings, the wards hissed to life.
A mass of vines shot across the stairs, growing from either side and irresistibly drawn to join together like nails to magnets. The Aurors, of course, found themselves pinned in by creepers, wound with lianas, draped with flowers that stuck to the mud and peeled away from their stalks in doing so, and half-blinded by rootlets.
They shouted. They flailed. They stumbled halfway down the stairs and then came to a dead stop; the vines would stretch only so far from their growing place at the top of the railings, and they were firmly rooted. Severus clamped his mouth shut so that he could prevent himself from laughing like a madman. There was no need to give away his position.
And when they go back to the Ministry, they will not be able to swear to a single Dark spell, or to a single injury that was sustained from a curse.
The other Aurors came cautiously up to try and unwind their comrades. It took them more than half an hour. Each vine that was cut away immediately began to grow back, and the mud and feathers that covered the other Aurors made the task more difficult, as did the lingering effects of the charms that Draco and Severus had cast. Severus made sure to pay careful attention to the scene. This was a memory that he would place in a Pensieve and visit as often as he needed amusement.
Finally, one of the Aurors had the bright idea to cast a spell on the vines that would render them unable to grow again, and they managed to work the two imprisoned men free. They gathered again at the bottom of the stairs, grumbling and making plans that then someone else would destroy with another suggestion. Severus wondered for a moment if they would stand there all morning and ruin his and his bondmates' plans. They had made the Aurors look ridiculous, yes, but there was more to that.
Finally, he decided that he would have to take the matter into his own hands to show them that the staircase was now safe.
Be careful. Harry's voice thrummed in his head like a rope pulled taut across an abyss, joined by the bond.
I will be, Severus said, struggling to keep the irony out of his tone. How many times had Harry charged into a situation like this, not being careful?
But that was not a thought he wished to send, and in the end he restrained himself and moved forwards, pulling back the Disillusionment Charm from his wand only. He waited until the Aurors noticed the floating wand, and then ostentatiously removed the wards that had coiled about the top of the stairs and produced the vines.
The Aurors yelped like a bunch of hounds and charged upwards. Severus dropped back, casting a few spells that transformed the floor to ice, and then stepped neatly into his and Draco's bedroom and threw powerful wards across the door.
His part was done. It was up to Harry now, to administer the final blow of mockery.
*
Harry relaxed when he heard the door of the bedroom shut. He knew that meant Severus was out of danger, and he didn't need to worry about the quality of the wards that Severus could command.
It was his turn.
Harry smiled as he stepped out of his bedroom and watched the Aurors flailing and scrambling about, arms spread and bodies bowing and twisting, on the floor that Severus had enchanted. It took them longer than he would have thought to notice him, but when they did, most of them gaped as witlessly as he could have hoped. Others hastily aimed their wands, curses flickering on their tongues.
Harry had already cast the Sonorus Charm on his throat, one reason that he'd been careful not to speak aloud since the Aurors entered the house. Now he cast another spell, one that projected the vision of him facing the Aurors up over their house and into the sky above Hogsmeade. If it worked the way Severus had promised it would, it should also project his words.
They wanted everyone to witness this final confrontation.
Harry gave them a stern frown. "Have you really come to harm me?" he asked in a whisper. Severus had told him to use a whisper to make it more affecting; with the spells, no one should have any trouble hearing him. "When I killed Voldemort, and didn't ask anything from the Minister except for him to arrest the person who tried to kill me?" He closed his eyes and dropped his head slowly into his hands. "I reckon that it doesn't matter what I do. Even saving the world isn't enough for some people. They'll continue to think that I owe them everything, just because of the scar on my forehead."
One of the smarter Aurors snorted and tried to seize control of the conversation. "It has nothing to do with what you have or haven't done, Mr. Potter. It has to do with you possessing significant Dark magical artifacts."
"What are those?" Harry asked, lifting his head and blinking rapidly. After a few hours of patient instruction from Draco yesterday, he had mastered the art of making tears come to his eyes no matter how he really felt. Several of the Aurors shifted uncomfortably as a single glistening tear slid down his cheek.
"We don't know," the Auror said shortly. She was a lean woman with a few remaining wisps of blonde hair and a set of white teeth that she seemed to think she could use to subdue him if she just showed them. "We only know that Dark artifacts were reported, and of course we needed to follow up on the report and see if it was true."
"Then cast your spells that should detect them," Harry said. "Or Summon them. You've already invaded my home, the home where I am doing nothing but trying to live in peace with the people I am responsible for. Why shouldn't you go through my possessions?" He stared at the floor and mustered a sad smile. "I'm used to it."
"Mr. Potter—" the blonde Auror began, but Harry went on, musing as though he had forgotten the existence of his audience.
"I was raised in a cupboard, by Muggles who hated magic and had no reason to regard me kindly. I didn't have any possessions of my own until I went to Hogwarts, because I wore my cousin's old clothes and used his old books. My first birthday gift was the one I received on my eleventh birthday, a post-owl." Harry raised his head and looked wistfully at the Aurors. "Somehow, I thought things would be different once I came into the wizarding world. But no, then I had to fight Voldemort, and I discovered that the people I saved wouldn't feel grateful for it. I was called the Heir of Slytherin in my second year and mad in my fifth year." Harry shook his head and let a shivering sigh rise from his toes. "I should have known that things would never be different, even after the war."
He'd argued with Severus and Draco about revealing the details of his childhood, but Severus had insisted. They wanted to make people feel compassion for Harry, he said, and understand the full ridiculousness of the ways in which the Ministry was trying to persecute him. The more pitiable details, the better.
As so often since he was bonded to them, Harry had swallowed his pride and agreed.
He sniffled tragically and stared over the Aurors' heads at the far wall. "I know that I'm a sacrifice to most people," he whispered, "and that they would want me to simply die quietly and get it over with. But I dared to dream. I thought that I would have a life of my own at some point, and what I've always wanted: peace and normality." Harry had to ignore the chorus of snorts in his mind at that point. "But it seems that it's not to be." He looked at the Aurors, starting a little as thought he had just noticed them again. "Do your searching," he said wearily, turning back towards his bedroom. "You're going to do it anyway, and the sooner that you're through, the sooner I can go back to trying to pretend that my life is normal."
The Aurors stood in a clump, looking uncomfortable. Harry knew they wouldn't relish being put on display before the entire town of Hogsmeade as a group of bullies who wouldn't leave a poor defenseless hero alone. That had been the entire point of this deception in the first place.
Harry went back into his bedroom and sat down on the bed, keeping the door open. He put his head in his hands and uttered many dejected sighs. His wand, out of sight in his right sleeve, was easy to manipulate so that he could cast more charms. The entire town of Hogsmeade was going to see the way that the Aurors searched their house for "Dark artifacts," too.
They did their best, but once again, Draco and Severus had planned out things too thoroughly. Casting the particular spells that bedeviled the Aurors now had taken longer than actually creating the traps. As they picked up each artifact, it sparkled with brilliant light and a soft, sexless voice announced its purpose and any enchantments on it.
"Toothbrush. Enchanted to keep the teeth white and clean when used regularly."
"Mirror. Enchanted to talk and give flattering opinions on clothes and hair, or true ones when asked."
"Chair. Cushioning Charm present."
As the toll of harmless objects accumulated, and as Harry arranged himself in new attitudes—staring at the wall, sighing and contemplating his hands, lying back on his bed and assuming a martyred expression—he could feel the embarrassment of the Aurors as an almost palpable ripple in the air. A few of them did shout spells that were meant to detect Dark enchantments and artifacts, and had nothing happen. The most "incriminating" things they discovered were Draco's books on Defense Against the Dark Arts and a few poisonous Potions ingredients, like belladonna, which were so common that there was no use in arresting Severus for possessing them.
Draco and Severus had carefully scrubbed the house free of every trace of Dark magic, which they were more sensitive to than Harry was. Any books that could be considered dubious were stored with Hermione at the moment (she had insisted on investigating them first to be sure they weren't truly dubious). An underground chamber beneath the lab, warded in three different ways to be undetectable, held any ingredient that the Aurors might have pounced on.
Despite that, there was still a risk with the Aurors so frustrated and so determined to arrest Harry and his bondmates for some crime. That was another reason for the public show in front of Hogsmeade. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when several of the Aurors uttered sharp exclamations of disgust and left the house, Apparating back to the Ministry.
The blonde Auror did come after him again, storming into the room and staring at him. "I know that you've practiced Dark magic," she said, in a low, ugly voice, "and concealed the results. Where did you do it? What spells did you use to hide the results?"
Harry sat up and stared at her with indignation that he didn't have to feign. "What are you talking about? I didn't use Dark magic even against Griselda Huxley, who nearly killed me. I'm not going to claim I did just to gratify some little Ministry lackey who—"
There was a ringing sound as she slapped him on the cheek. Harry grasped the handprint and grimaced, but he felt a sharp glee, too.
She'd done that in front of Hogsmeade.
Stay where you are, he told Severus and Draco flatly when they started to move forwards. She only made my face sting, and she'll pay for it a lot more than I will. So will the Ministry.
She still hurt you, Draco hissed to him. Let me curse her.
After we worked so hard to ensure that we can't be accused of using Dark magic? Harry sent a ripple of disgust through the bond, which caused Draco to yelp in his head. Yes, that would be a wise idea. No, Draco, be still and let me handle this. I know that you're perfectly capable of protecting me, he added, when it seemed as though Draco would bristle at his orders and contradict them just because they were Harry's orders. But right now, I'm the one in the open, and the one who has to handle the situation.
Draco subsided with curious completeness. Harry told himself that he would remember that phrasing, which seemed to reassure Draco, and then glanced at the ashen-faced Auror.
"I didn't mean to do that!" she blurted, as if that would make it any better.
"Not in public, at any rate," Harry said, blinking at her and cradling his cheek, doing his best to paint an astonished expression across his face.
"Not at all!" The Auror shut her eyes as if she could actually see everyone in Hogsmeade staring at her. She took a deep breath. "If you would just tell us where the Dark artifacts are—"
"We don't have any." Harry rose to his feet and gestured to the door. He would have liked to point his wand at her, but he knew that would make the chance of their losing Hogsmeade's sympathy greater. "I think you should leave now. You've made a thorough search, and we cooperated with you. What more can you possibly want from us?"
"You had traps set up when we entered the house." The Auror stared at him from beneath a streak of mud across her forehead that she still hadn't managed to remove. Chicken feathers dangled into her eyes like the ornaments of a headdress. "That doesn't sound to me as if you were cooperating."
"We didn't know who you were at first," Harry said. "And we've had quite a few enemies attack us. When we realized that you were Aurors, then our cooperation was instant. Even then, our 'traps' entangled and confused you. The most injury anyone sustained was swallowing a little mud or spewing up some vomit. I don't see what else we could have done. If we had no wards set up, then you could rightfully have claimed that we deserved every injury we've taken."
The Auror shook with rage for a moment. Harry could see the temptation to do something unforgivable warring in her eyes with the consciousness that she was on display before Hogsmeade.
Harry sighed and turned away from her. "Carry the tale of what happened here to your Minister," he said. "But you should know that we only defended ourselves, and in a way that wouldn't leave anyone permanently injured. Indeed, I've taken greater pain than you have." He pointedly moved his hand away from his cheek so that the mark of her slap would stand out.
The Auror turned and stomped out of the room. Harry let her go, falling back on his bed and staring at the ceiling as he asked Severus, You'll have the cleansing spells move through the house to get rid of any nasty hexes they might have left behind?
Of course. What do you take me for?
Harry smiled. Occasionally forgetful. He took a deep breath. That didn't go too badly, did it?
No, Draco's voice said smugly in his head. Not least because we all played our parts the way we were supposed to.
Yes, Draco, you can stop bragging now, Harry said, but made sure to infuse the words with enough affection that Draco wouldn't take offense. He was privately in awe of how well they had worked together and wondering when they would have a chance to do it again.
Since this is the most closeness I will ever have with them.
*
Severus stiffened when a young wizard walked into the front garden, but he recognized him as someone who worked in Honeydukes and permitted him to approach. It would do no good to recruit the sympathy of the village if they then drove away all the sympathizers when they came near.
"I saw what happened," the man said quietly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He was tall, with curly dark hair and blue eyes that rivaled Harry's in brightness. "I'm Cadell Caesarion. I wanted—I mean, could I talk to Harry Potter?" He spoke Harry's name as if it were a title in itself. "I recognized the Auror who slapped him. She's my second cousin." He grimaced and ducked his head as if he expected Severus to aim a curse at him. "I wanted to apologize for my family."
"You don't need to do that," Harry said, coming around the corner of the house from the side garden, where he'd been removing traps they hadn't had to use. He was wiping his forehead free of sweat; though it was a cool day, he'd been using his magic at a rate sufficient to burn up much energy, Severus judged. "I know about families, and if I started apologizing for some of the things my cousin's done, I would never have gone to Hogwarts."
Caesarion smiled. The smile had a depth to it, and his eyes on Harry had a spark of interest, that made Severus feel the need to cast a curse after all. "All right, then. Will you allow me to apologize for myself, because I didn't believe at first that you hadn't turned to Dark magic?" He held out his hand. "I'm going to write a letter to the Minister tomorrow."
"Thanks," Harry said, reaching out and clasping Caesarion's wrist. "It's been bloody awful trying to get anyone to believe us."
"I can see how it must have been." Caesarion was staring openly now, as if captivated by Harry's eyes. Harry couldn't fail to notice it. Severus felt the bond stir and eddy with opposing currents of embarrassment and pleasure.
Draco came bounding out of the house, his wand leveled. He pulled up in confusion when he saw Harry talking with someone who didn't seem to be an enemy, and glanced at Severus. What's the matter? he asked silently, his thoughts shielded in such a manner that Severus knew Harry would not hear him. He seems all right.
He admires Harry too much, Severus said, trying to keep a growl out of his thoughts and not succeeding.
Draco moved a step forwards, but Severus said sharply, No. Harry will not thank us if we interfere.
Draco stopped, clenching his fists. Harry, who would ordinarily have observed such a thing at once and asked what was wrong, didn't notice, instead laughing at Caesarion's tale of how people in Honeydukes had stopped and stared at the walls when the image of the Aurors stumbling about the house appeared there.
Maybe it is for the best, Severus said, though even his mind felt choked as he uttered the words. Harry needs a chance to be with someone who is not us, and someone male. This might teach him, if it progresses, whether he likes men at all.
Draco stirred, and the bond between them glowed with yearning aqua jealousy in Severus's mind. But we want him. If he could only see that!
He has the idea that we are exclusive lovers and would not welcome a third into our bed. Severus nodded as the force of Draco's incredulity washed through his mind. I know, but there is nothing to be done at the moment but put up with it. We cannot force him to join us.
Maybe, but I don't have to watch, Draco snapped, and turned back to the house.
Then Harry glanced around and said with a bright smile, "Oh, Draco! This is Cadell Caesarion. Cadell, my other bondmate, Draco Malfoy."
It said much for Draco's newly acquired maturity, Severus decided, that he could go through the introduction with a credible smile fixed on his face and resist the temptation to crush his rival's wrist.
Severus feared that his own fantasies of driving Caesarion away from Harry's side did not speak well for his maturity.
