![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sua_layAuthor: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Four: -Before you can go forward, you must face your past. Sins of the father may bury the son. Harry will find out if a dog really is the man's best friend.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, mention of het rape, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes, angst and a partridge in a pear tree.
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
There was no happy small talk during the breakfast the next day.
Not that it surprised Harry. He wasn't in the mood for talking with anyone, and he was the one who'd been prepared to hear all the awful truths. The only thing that actually surprised him was the fact that they were all able to come downstairs for breakfast and no one had exploded yet.
It was probably just a matter of time, but Harry wished he didn't have to witness whatever happened when the silence got too much.
He sipped his tea half heartedly, not noticing the taste.
As the house elves finally cleaned up the table, Crookshanks left his place at Hermione's feet and followed Eppy to the kitchen, holding his tail high as he seemed to wobble just as slowly as she did. He'd taken an instant liking on Eppy. For what reason, no one really knew.
Harry suspected it had something to do with the fact that Eppy had an unlimited access to their food supply.
Too bad it wasn't as simple with people as well. Not even the best chocolate in the world could distract him long enough to stop him thinking about the war.
He was more than familiar with people trying to cope with things they didn't want to see or hear, and it wasn't a big surprise to see Hermione fuss with her breakfast or Ron glance around every five seconds as if he was expecting something to attack him.
It was however slightly odd to see Malfoy look as aloof as he had back in school, when he had been the leader of the young Slytherins. Everything was in place; the slick hairdo, the completely emotionless stare. Only the smirk slipped every once in a while, turning into something akin to a grimace.
Harry noticed Remus casting a worried glance at Malfoy, but hoped he wouldn't interfere. He doubted Malfoy could actually deal with talking right now. Not if he didn't go looking for someone to listen.
He just wondered if Malfoy would be completely insufferable for days now.
It wasn't actually surprising that Malfoy would do this after yesterday's meeting. It wasn't better than the groveling at the cottage, and Harry was sure it was about as genuine as the spineless act he'd tried back then.
Somehow it made him think of the countless nights when he'd padded across the hallways back in Hogwarts, wearing the Invisibility cloak over his pajamas. He had been so lost back then, trying to find a way out of all the misery, and it felt like Malfoy was trying to find his way now as well.
He didn't think Malfoy's search would be any easier than his own had been.
Remus made a gesture at Sirius and the two of them excused themselves, clearly going back to the books.
Seeing the door close behind the two older Gryffindors seemed to make Malfoy relax a little. Harry wasn't surprised. He doubted Malfoy was ready for more personal revelations or quiet time with any of them. Not after yesterday.
He pretended not to look up as Malfoy left the room. It wasn't his place to shake him and tell him to drop the act; Malfoy would have to figure that out himself.
Sighing, Harry grabbed a piece of chocolate from the bowl Remus had left on the table and concentrated on the taste melting on his tongue.
"So... Are we going to Hogwarts today?" Ron sounded like he didn't really want to go. He didn't look at Hermione either, clearly not wanting to see the expression on her face.
Harry nodded. "We'd better. I want to talk to Dumbledore about actually starting the training. We've already wasted enough time talking..." He left it hanging, not wanting to say they'd been talking about nothing of importance.
Before anyone could comment on his tone, he excused himself and went to the loo. It was as good an excuse as any, and he bet no one would return to the previous topic when he came back.
Walking to the hallway, wiping his still wet fingers on his robe, he stopped as he saw Ron pace by the front door, waving his hands in the air and muttering curses. Hermione was right there beside him, looking irritated.
There was a sound of almost hysterical laughter coming from the living room.
"What is it?" Looking from Ron's livid face to Hermione, Harry wondered what could have happened in the five minutes he'd been gone.
Ron refused to say anything, he just waved his hands in the air again, shaking his fist at something invisible.
"It's..." Sighing, Hermione raised the day's Daily Prophet so that Harry could see. There was a huge black and white photo on the front page, two very familiar young men.
Harry let out a groan even before reading the text screaming above the picture. His own face greeted him with a wink, Malfoy standing next to him, looking as expressionless there as in reality.
At the background, Ron was muttering curses.
Obviously embarrassed, Hermione pointed at the header saying, 'The Boy Who Lived and his Saucy Slytherin Sweetheart'. "The article is about as discreet as that says. All about our lives here in Hogsmeade. They even got some parts right. Not the parts about you and Malfoy, though." There was actually a faint flicker of amusement in her gaze.
"What?" Hands almost grabbing the paper, Harry stilled and then simply stared at the article. He didn't want to read it, but couldn't tear his gaze away.
He and Malfoy? Sweethearts? No wonder Sirius was still laughing behind the closed living room door, sounding like he was choking in glee.
Why was everyone so damn enthusiastic about pairing him up with Malfoy? First Remus, now this. Had anything in their long acquaintance ever even hinted that they'd be anything but enemies?
Harry couldn't understand the whole thing. Not that he really understood the mutual hatred and lust that was sometimes kind of obvious between Malfoy and Ron either, but there had never been any lust between him and Malfoy! Even though Malfoy wasn't a complete bastard anymore, he was definitely opinionated and often malevolent. Not that those traits couldn't be damn attractive, but... just no. Not on Malfoy.
He rubbed his forehead and then chuckled helplessly. "Boy did they get that wrong." It was absurd.
His words did nothing to calm Ron down.
Neither he nor Hermione said anything about it on the way to Hogwarts. When Terry Boot joined them on the short walk, she pulled him to the side and whispered to him for a while, obviously telling him not to comment on the lies in the article.
Harry didn't really care of what Terry or anyone else thought. After the initial laughter, he was now bristling with annoyance. It didn't matter that the whole thing wasn't true, the idiots at the Daily Prophet had no right to write about his life like that.
Not even if it had been true.
He could see most people had read the articles, judging by the odd looks and whispers that followed him through the castle grounds and into the school.
Even his former housemates seemed way too interested in the whole thing, Seamus and Dean staring at him in a slight shock and Lavender and Parvati giggling in a corner. Harry chose not to pay any attention to them.
There were however those whose opinion mattered.
Seeing disapproval on professor McGonagall's face was somehow warming, especially when it didn't seem to be aimed at him. Dumbledore's twinkling gaze was as exasperating as always.
Harry had to take a deep breath before he moved his gaze to the man standing next to the Headmaster.
He couldn't decipher Snape's expression at first, the obsidian gaze revealing absolutely nothing. He could however see the slightly crumpled Daily Prophet on the floor next to the man and wondered if he found the whole thing as irritating as he did.
Casting a look at the newspaper, he then rolled his eyes, trying to convey the absurdity of it all without words.
To his amazement, Snape's expression thawed immediately into a very evil smirk, the blank look in his eyes turning into a glitter of malevolent amusement.
Harry made a face. So Snape thought this was funny? He wasn't really surprised.
He didn't want to sneak around in the shadows, but seeing how this stupid rumor made everyone act weirdly chilled him. If the thought of him seeing Draco Malfoy shocked everyone like this, how would it be if people knew the truth? Snape's earlier words came to his mind as clearly as he'd heard them a moment ago. The famous Harry Potter can't be with a former Death Eater.
"I hate this!" Hissing it under his breath, Harry glared at Snape and then turned away before he could say anything else. He wasn't mad at him, he was mad at their whole world.
He was also mad at how big a deal this was. People were interested in his sex life when no one paid attention to the very real war that was upon them. This was eating away the more important things, his private actions somehow larger than matters of life and death.
After yesterday's meeting and the following shock to his two best friends, he didn't want to deal with something like this.
Whispers all around him. Even Sprout was looking at him all askew, as if she couldn't understand him right now. It was somehow sickening; as if she was already over her shock and moving on.
It wasn't completely fair to hate people for hiding from things that were too big to deal with, but Harry still resented the stares and the whispers. His life had been like this all along, and he wished nothing more than to be away from the maddening crowd, somewhere he could find peace.
The whispers stopped for a moment as Malfoy stepped into the room.
Harry sighed as he saw the familiar sneer on his lips. That would definitely not help. Indeed, the whispers were starting again, this time louder than just a moment ago.
Slightly shocked by all the attention but not showing it, Draco cast a furtive look around the room. It didn't seem that people were about to attack him for the rumors, but one never knew what was going to happen when Potter was involved.
He could see that there was annoyance in Potter's eyes, but it didn't feel like it was focused at him. For some strange reason it was a complete relief. Draco didn't mind the blatant anger on Weasley's face. Weasley was always angry at him, nothing new there.
Anger was a good emotion. It was better than the foolish regrets and guilt and other insane things that could still haunt him.
Such a Gryffindor thing, really. He'd noticed that Potter liked to wallow in all the things he couldn't change, and decided not to follow his example. It was a waste of time. He was a Malfoy. Malfoys did not wallow.
There was a flurry of action at the door, and people moved away to make way for the small group of reporters. They were rarely seen here so openly, usually just one or two wizards hanging outside the door with a quill in hand and a camera hanging around his neck.
Now it almost looked like they were expecting a press release of some kind. Not about the Order and their plans but about something far more interesting.
Harry turned slowly to watch the reporters flock inside the Entrance Hall, still unable to really comprehend that they had the audacity to do this. To his knowledge, there had been no real stories about the deaths -- aside from those laying the blame on Dumbledore -- or the Order meetings. Would they possibly dare to come here for this?
Apparently they did.
One of the reporters spotted him and called out, "Mr. Potter!" The others were quick to follow her lead.
For a moment the room was filled with excited babble. Then a silence fell as Harry stood there, looking slightly disgusted. Everyone wanted to hear the questions, and more importantly, the answers.
"Mr. Potter, there have been allegations in the Daily Prophet..."
Harry glared at the reporter, his expression astonishingly familiar to anyone who'd ever taken Potions at Hogwarts. "Unfortunately I don't have the time to read such... fabrications." His voice clearly showed his disgust.
That of course sent dozens of people into a frenzy. A few tried to ask him to be more specific about his criticism while others yelled out loud the questions about him and Malfoy. A small group from the Daily Prophet was looking at him with open hostility they hid as soon as they realized people were watching.
Waiting for the storm to calm a bit, Harry sighed. He should have known this would happen. "All right! I get the point. You think I'm seeing Malfoy?" Even after actually seeing the headlines, he still couldn't keep his shocked amusement hidden.
One of the witches from Witch's Weekly raised her hand. "So you're saying it's only a rumor?"
There was an expectant silence.
Harry turned to look at her. The eager look on her face -- mirrored by those all around her -- made him slightly sick. "I'm not saying anything. My personal life is my own. It's not up for general discussion. Not now, not ever."
"So you're not denying it either?" It seemed to be very important to the witch that he answered that. When only a silence followed her question, she added, "The people want to know."
That was something Harry had never understood. Why would anyone care? "Why?" So that they could marvel at his life? Or that people could harass him more?
His question was clearly so prepostrous everyone chose to ignore it. Following the life of the Boy Who Lived had been a part of good journalism for seven years now, people simply wanted to know! "Mr. Potter, how do you respond to the suggestion that you may prefer wizards to witches?"
Harry had lots of things to say about that, but he knew that nothing would make any difference. "It's still my personal business. Now if you'll excuse me..." With that, he pushed his way through the crowd.
Hermione looked at him worriedly while Ron was obviously having problems keeping his expression straight. "Are you all right?"
"No." Shaking his head slightly, Harry glared at the group of reporters who were all muttering and staring at him. Fortunately they were staying at the doorway. He didn't know what he'd do if one more idiot tried to approach him about this matter right now.
"You know..." Hermione bit her lip, but decided to say it anyway. "It wouldn't be such a bad thing to say that you actually like wizards as well. Not everyone in the wizarding world is as open minded as we are."
"No."
"I know you don't like the attention." It simply didn't make sense to Hermione. She had spent the past year setting an example for the younger students at Hogwarts. Harry could do so much good with just one simple comment about life. Didn't he see it? "But people look up to you and showing them it's all right would make a difference."
"I refuse to be the Gay Icon of the wizarding world." Harry hated that. More titles and names heaped on him. He didn't want to be a celebrity, not because of the war, not because something like this. "I want to live my life, not be some kind of an example."
Hermione frowned. "But some people need..."
"If people need my permission to be gay or whatever, then our world is lost already!" It came out more angrily than Harry intended.
None of the three said anything for a long moment. Harry felt bad for snapping at Hermione, but he wasn't going to apologize. Still trying not to show his disgust at this whole thing, Ron just kept hovering next to Hermione, casting furtive looks around the hall.
"I'm sorry."
Harry hated the fact that he'd been quiet and forced her to actually say it first. "Yeah, and I'm sorry for snapping at you."
That brought a small smile on Hermione's face. "I know. But you were right. It's none of my business, really."
"Yes it is. You're my friend, Hermione, and it is your business whether or not I'm seeing someone. It's just not theirs." Harry's gesture was mostly aimed at the reporters still massing at the doorway.
Hermione looked like she wanted to say more, but in the end she simply nodded. "Okay."
"It's not that I want to hide. It's not. But if I give them one answer, they'll have a thousand other questions ready and it'll never end."
Harry didn't want to spin a web of lies, knowing he couldn't answer all the questions truthfully, and to be quite honest, he didn't think he would even if he could. This was his life, the one thing he really had for himself and he wasn't going to share it with people he didn't even know.
Noticing that the reporters were now turning to harass Malfoy, he wondered for a moment what the Slytherin would say. Then he discarded the worry. Malfoy wasn't a complete moron. He wouldn't say anything that would get him hexed.
"Mr. Malfoy!" Quills ready, the witches and wizards descended on Draco like a flock of dragons. "Care to comment?"
"On what?" Raising his eyebrow slightly, Draco kept a cold stare on the reporters, almost daring them to utter their nonsense again.
"On the allegations that you are seeing Harry Potter of course!"
It was quite incredulous some people couldn't understand the concept of contempt or sarcasm. "Oh. That."
Mutters and nods echoed in the room as a reply to the barely patient huff.
Draco sneered. "Do you honestly think I would associate myself with someone like Potter?" His voice held a hint of outrage.
There was an absolute silence. A few of the reporters stared with their mouths hanging open. No one had ever talked about Harry Potter like that. They all worshipped or doubted him, but everyone wanted to be associated with him somehow.
"It would not be proper for me to be involved with someone of his... background." There was finality in Draco's voice. He had spent months perfecting the cool aloofness once his voice had finally stopped moving from a deep baritone into a quite embarrassing falsetto between words. The tone sounded completely natural.
"Mr. Malfoy, do you mean that you hold his parentage against him?" one of the reporters asked, the question starting out quite firmly and then dying out as he seemed to realize how foolish it sounded.
Asking a Malfoy if they held the purity of blood important was like asking Minister Fudge on the record if he believed in the importance of all the wizarding laws.
Draco's expression was an answer enough. Not bothering to even voice his thoughts on the question, he turned around -- the very theatrical twirl making his robes billow -- and walked away from the reporters.
Outraged whispers filled the hallway, accompanied by furious scribbling as the Daily Prophet witches and wizards wrote down all the things that had just been said.
There would definitely be an article about this in the papers tomorrow.
The very dramatic exit Draco had planned was somewhat spoiled when he realized he had no idea where to go. He looked around, grimacing when he couldn't see professor Snape or Blaise near by. That meant he would have to stand somewhere all by himself and try to act as if he didn't notice all the glares.
"Malfoy!"
Hearing his name, Draco was slightly shocked to see Potter gesturing at him. He hid his shock well, sauntering towards their great hero with a self confident smirk on his face. "Potter."
He could almost feel all the curious looks on him, but chose to ignore them.
A house elf appeared next to him, holding a tray full of steaming cups, and he accepted one with a nod. Sipping tea, standing next to Harry Potter was probably the greatest dream of some people in here -- or at least those standing at the doorway like a pack of wild crups -- but Draco refused to consider this as anything special.
He was a Malfoy; Malfoys did not fawn over people, especially not in front of a crowd.
"The reporters could have an excellent second career exterminating Boggarts," muttered Harry. He was not going to take this seriously and could bet that neither would Malfoy.
"True." For a second, Draco wondered just what exactly had his father thought when he'd seen the headers. The mere thought made him almost choke on his tea.
Not only the probably accurate image of his father suffering a major stroke over the whole thing, but because he shouldn't really care what the bastard thought about anything anymore.
"Where do these people get the ideas?" Harry still didn't get it. Sure, they were living in the same house, but of all the people under that roof, him and Malfoy? "Idiots."
The contempt sounded almost Slytherin, and Draco muttered before really thinking, "Yes, it's not exactly like you're my type."
Since it couldn't be the fact that he was a Gryffindor, Harry could think of only one thing. "Of course. Pureblood issues?"
Draco couldn't tell if that was a real question or not, but for the first time ever, Potter didn't seem to be ready to punch him when the issue was raised. He simply shrugged.
Harry grinned at Malfoy, a surprisingly open expression. "I do believe you're the only person I know who would be embarrassed about being my boyfriend because of who I am." It was the very first completely personal comment he'd said to Malfoy and the ease of the words slipping out was overwhelming.
There was an air of indifferance in Malfoy, making it easier to deal with him than Hermione's honest concern or Ron's barely veiled anger.
Keeping his gaze away from Snape, knowing that people were definitely watching, Draco shrugged. "Oh, I don't know about that." He saw the flicker of hurt in Potter's gaze and hurried to add, "Not everyone would be ready to admit they're having an affair with a Gryffindor."
The way he sniffed the name of that House out spoke volumes of what he thought about the matter.
At first, Harry looked startled. Then he simply said, "You do have a point there." He knew there were those who would probably rather drink Bubotuber pus, including the Head of the Slytherin House.
Ron had arrived at his side to hear the last few comments and he was trying very hard not to think about the fact that they were most likely talking about Snape. He didn't like it, didn't like the way Harry spoke about it so easily, and with Malfoy of all people.
So maybe after everything he'd talked about with Remus Lupin, he didn't want to curse Malfoy with Avada Kedavra or jump off the Astronomy Tower anymore, but he wasn't going to start liking the git either.
"I know." Draco had noticed Weasley arriving, but he ignored his presence, focusing on Potter. There had been a rather tentative beginning of something resembling camaraderie between them before they'd moved into Potter's house.
The insane way his life had plunged to depths unknown and then been tossed here and there without him having any real say on anything had to stop. Now. The wallowing was too tiresome, eating away everything if he allowed it to. The games took too much energy, just as corrosive as self pity.
To hell with Weasley and his disapproval. He was going to say what was on his mind no matter what. "Of course if it was a pureblooded Gryffindor, then it would be quite different."
Harry had expected something like that, especially when there had been no sign of cringing in Malfoy today. Still, he was slightly shocked he would say it in front of Ron.
For once, Ron was completely speechless. He couldn't even splutter. Was Malfoy serious?
Taking a deep breath, he finally gasped, "You mean it would be all right to shag me 'cause I'm a fucking pureblood?" He just couldn't believe he was saying this out loud, but he had to ask.
Draco cocked his head. Sometimes these idealistic Gryffindors were too hilarious. They really didn't have any clue on how things were done in the real world. "No. I mean it would be all right for me to admit shagging you 'cause you are a pureblood."
It was actually a twist of the old rules.
Ron growled at that. "You're not going to admit anything to anyone, Malfoy!" He didn't even want to think about what it would do to his mother to hear that he had sort of shagged with a Malfoy. The mere fact that they were living under the same roof had already driven her into an icy silence.
He cast an angry look at Harry before storming away. This wasn't something he wanted to be a part of. Shagging and Malfoy were definitely two words he never wanted to connect again.
Harry watched him go, but didn't even try to follow him. He didn't want to get involved; there was nothing he could really do anyway. Ron had shown often enough that he wasn't comfortable talking about Malfoy, so they wouldn't talk.
"I didn't exactly mean it like that." It was extremely annoying how Weasley could still make Draco feel a slight twinge of discomfort even when he'd decided he wasn't going to let things touch him like that anymore. It wasn't real guilt anymore, he had done with the wallowing, but it still made him wince.
"You mean you didn't just say that Slytherin purebloods prefer purebloods, even if they might come from the wrong House?"
The flinch was instinctive, Draco's expression hardening as he waited for the angry words to come. Gryffindors were always treating this matter as a joke, even when it was nothing like that. After a moment he realized that Potter was actually bantering. It was quite incredible. "Yes."
"You know..." Unable to keep the laughter from bubbling out, Harry chuckled before continuing, "You guys always concentrate on people's ancestry and strut around with your pureblood arrogance."
Draco bristled, but couldn't deny it. "You know it's important to us." He swallowed as he realized what the words implicated. "To us Slytherins."
He knew Potter didn't mean it the way most people would, but it was too close to things he heard every day. You traitors. You Death Eaters. He was sick of it, sick of seeing Slytherin and pureblood equal darkness.
"Yes." Harry wondered how true it really was. He would have to ask Snape about it, even though he'd never noticed any hints that the man cared about things like that. "You know, there is one thing that has always amazed me about pureblood wizards, especially those that come from Slytherin."
"And what is that?" Prepared for another slur, Draco raised an eyebrow.
"How those who hold their pureblood ancestry so high would follow a Muggle raised 'mudblood' so eagerly." No anger in Harry's voice, even when he said the epithet accompanied by his fingers drawing quotation marks in the air.
For a moment, Draco couldn't think of anything to say. He stared at Potter, not even flinching as he saw a hint of pity in him.
Did he really mean what he thought he meant? He couldn't! He'd have known. Somehow there would have been real rumors and he would have known. "Are you saying lord Voldemort isn't a pureblood?"
Harry was stunned by the question for he'd honestly thought everyone knew. But then again who would tell that to the Slytherins, who had probably been fed the story of their supremacy since they'd been infants? "Yes. Tom Riddle, the man who calls himself Voldemort, is a Muggleborn. And he was raised mostly by Muggles."
Draco's ears were ringing. He couldn't believe this! It had to be a mudblood joke. His father would never ever crawl in front of... He wouldn't sacrifice everything, his own son for a... "Voldemort's a mudblood?" It sounded so brittle he wanted to die.
"Yes." For once, Harry didn't say anything about the derision. He simply nodded. "He is."
He didn't really expect a reply. The way Malfoy gathered his robes around him as if he was about to shatter and then walked away without a word wasn't shocking either.
Such a strange thing to feel sympathy for Malfoy. It wasn't even pity anymore. Harry watched him go, wishing there had been something he could have said to his former enemy to make this easier. Knowing there wasn't anything he could really say.
From the doorway, curious faces focused on him, and somewhere in the distance, cameras were flashing and clicking, capturing the lonely hero for tomorrow's newspaper.
A/N::D I did say it's mainly a story with snarry romance in it... But yeah, relationship stuff coming up next... Anyone frustrated about the way Harry and Snape aren't doing nice and naked things together, just think about how frustrating that is for the characters...
