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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 - May 2007
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Five: - It's time to try to save the world. Fools and idiots may be the wizards' only hope. Revenge does indeed taste strange. Kinda furry.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, total stupidity, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes and angst.
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
Harry cast a worried look at the sky as he hurried out of their house. It looked like it would rain soon, the dark clouds gathering overhead. He could hear from the few softly muttered words that Draco agreed with his thoughts.
He knew he was late; the morning classes had already began and there would be at least a few meetings held by busybodies and those who wanted an excuse not to spend the whole morning casting charms and hexes at each other. His people should be able to conduct themselves without his presence, but he was sure that as soon as he appeared, there'd be enthusiastics demanding his attention.
That was fine by him. After yet another poorly slept night, he welcomed the challenge.
Right now, there was another challenge waiting for him right beside him.
"Draco?"
Starting at the sound of his name, Draco muttered, "Yes?" as if he wasn't even listening.
"You want to tell me what's going on?" Harry asked. He had noticed Draco's reluctance to speak with anyone since the attack, and while the Slytherin was sometimes withdrawn, he usually spoke when someone asked him a question. Now he was once again doing that perfect door mat routine.
Draco stopped walking. "No, not really." There was hesitation in his voice.
"What is it?" Turning to face his friend, Harry prodded him a little, guessing that even the street was a better place for this discussion than the Headquarters.
Slowly, Draco looked up, not even trying to mask the intent burn in his gaze. "You don't want to know." There was a warning in his voice, but also a dare of sorts. Let Harry ask if he really wanted to hear what was going on in his mind.
Harry didn't need to ask again; he could see it clearly in Draco's eyes. "You're angry."
"You're damn right I'm angry!" And not in a good way. The anger had been simmering there ever since yesterday, not disappearing with the apologies or the frantic shagging with Weasley later that night. He had no idea when it would escape his control.
Sighing, Harry nodded. He could understand exactly what Draco was feeling, just as he'd known the sadness so evident in Ron earlier. It was all a part of being a human, being tossed into this insane situation with battles and tension and decisions you could barely live with afterwards.
"Those bastards!" Muttering it quietly, Draco waved his hand in the air, almost as if dismissing his own words. "And now that they've apologized..."
"There's nothing you can do. I know." Harry agreed.
"Yeah." Shuddering, Draco added, "No matter how much I might like to." Kicking someone's arse would help, but he couldn't really prove the Aurors right by starting a fight.
Harry started walking again, seeing that the clouds would probably empty their contents on them any moment now. When Draco matched his pace step for step, he asked quietly, "Want to do some training later on?"
He rarely trained with anyone but Arabella and Dumbledore, not comfortable with people who were either intimidated by him or who had no real skills. Draco would be a perfect opponent on every level.
The way Draco's expression seemed to brighten at he prospect told him he would get no special treatment in the dueling.
Perfect.
They managed to reach the Headquarters before it started raining, but Harry could see it would be a miserable day. Damn, what else could go wrong?
He bit his tongue before he could say it out loud to Draco. It would be really stupid to tempt fate like that.
The entrance hall should have been empty at this hour, but as Harry closed the door behind him, he could see someone sitting on a bench by the wall. Sighing, he wondered if he should just ignore whoever it was or go to see if there was something important for him to do.
"Seamus?" The name slipped out as soon as he realized who it was sitting there.
It was rare to see him here; Seamus had been one of the most anxious to join the Aurors in trying to stop raids, preferring doing things instead of sitting around and talking.
There had been occasions when Harry had envied him.
"I think I'll stay here for a while." Smiling at Draco, he walked towards Seamus. "Don't forget the training."
"I won't." With a curious glance at the Gryffindors, Draco walked away.
Harry rolled his eyes, knowing that their training session would probably attract a shocked crowd later on. Then he turned his attention back to Seamus, who looked like he hadn't noticed them enter. "Oi, Seamus!"
Moving his head slowly, Seamus looked up from the squirming bundle on his lap. "Oh. Harry. Hi." He didn't sound like he was happy to see him.
"Hi."
Harry didn't know what else to say, but it seemed as if Seamus wasn't expecting any words; he had already turned his attention back to the floor. Suppressing a sigh, he wondered if whatever problems Seamus had would be as easily dealt with as Draco's.
A moment later he realized that Seamus wasn't staring at the floor and avoiding his eyes like Draco had, he was staring at the small kitten now nestled on his lap. It was a familiar sight of sorts, he could remember how Seamus had cradled the kitten after leaving the dead witch's hut, refusing to let go of him for even a moment.
It didn't look like he was about to change his mind any time soon.
"Seamus? Are you all right?" There was hesitation in Harry's voice. Seamus had always been cheery and so eager to be involved in things, and now he was simply sitting there, looking forlorn.
Seamus looked up again, and this time there was a very fake smile plastered on his face. "I'm all right, Harry." He sounded tired.
Harry didn't comment on the obvious lie, turning his attention on the kitten. "And how is he? Have you named him yet?"
"Yes. His name is Zlito." Seamus' expression brightened just for a second as he looked down at the small furball. "After one of the cards Viktor Krum sent Ron a few years back."
"I remember." It was the last completely happy memory Harry had of that spring. "It's a good name."
Seamus nodded, keeping his gaze on little Zlito.
The others were already gathering in the big meeting hall, but he didn't want to get up. He'd come here early, unable to stay away but unwilling to actually join the others. The sounds all around him had felt harsh and unreal and all he'd wanted was to go back to his small apartment with his cat and never to come out again.
He knew what they would talk about today; more missions, strategies to help people in small villages all around their world, and patrols.
He also knew he couldn't go to the others and talk about it. He couldn't even think about it anymore. These past few months with all the fear and the pain and the killings were destroying him. Alice Skively's hut had been the last straw; he couldn't go into another scene like that again.
Not realizing that he was rocking himself back and forth while holding the kitten closer, he startled as a strong hand grasped his shoulder.
He saw the worry on Harry's face, but it was as if he was blurred somehow. "I'm all right." The sob in his voice ruined the message.
"Seamus..." Crouching down next to his friend, Harry muttered his name out. "You're not all right, and you don't have to be. It's okay to not be all right."
The tired tone just made Seamus' world blur even more. He opened his mouth to repeat his words, to assure Harry that he was really fine, but no words came out. Instead there was a blubbering kind of a cough, dissolving into nothing.
Sighing, Harry held on tighter as Seamus started to cry. With a flick of his wand, he conjured up a handkerchief and handed it to him.
He didn't like the implications of that small act, remembering a box of tissues appearing on his lap so long ago.
"I can't do this anymore, Harry." His eyes huge, Seamus raised the handkerchief to his face, trying to wipe off the tears that were running down his cheeks, holding the kitten tight against his chest with his other hand. He'd never felt like this before; the mixture of desperation and embarrassment. He didn't want to be this weak, but doing this was killing him. He couldn't handle the fighting and watching people die around him.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment. He could see that Seamus was more than broken; he was shattered, with the shards of what he'd been chafing with every breath he took. "You don't have to. You don't have to."
"Really?" Seamus didn't believe his ears. He felt so small saying that to Harry, and had been certain he'd be ridiculed. Or cursed.
Harry nodded even though he knew he wouldn't see it. "Really. You don't have to do this anymore."
They had been under enormous strain these past weeks. He wasn't surprised to see how heavily that lay on people, especially on his former housemates, who seemed to feel like they were responsible for everything. It was a feeling he could recognize well.
He'd never have thought it would be Seamus who succumbed under the melancholia. Looking back on all the things he'd witnessed, maybe he should have.
The mediwitches alone couldn't help now. Harry wondered if anyone could. He knew Seamus wouldn't want to leave the Order, or the fight, but he didn't see any option. Staying here would kill him.
It was best if his friend went home and he had the perfect excuse to send him there. "I was wondering if you'd do something for me." He swallowed at the desperate hope in his friend's gaze. "We need a place outside Scotland in case this goes badly. Someone has to organize us a safe house. How does Ireland sound to you?"
Even when they had talked about this, ages ago, the inner circle of the Order had known such a place would never be needed as anything beyond a safe harbor for those who couldn't handle the war. If Voldemort won, they would all be dead and not needing such a stronghold.
Seamus blew his nose, thinking for a moment. He looked back at the kitten who was clambering up his chest to lick away some of the salty moisture from his face. "I... It sounds fine."
"Good. Professor McGonagall has already planned on something that might work for us. I want you to take over the project. Can you do that?" Harry realized Seamus might not be the only one who'd be sent there. If the war stretched out for long, others would need this kind of help as well.
There was a hesitant nod. "You think I could take Zlito with me?" Seamus hugged the kitten as if he was his safety blanket.
Feeling like his throat was swelling shut, Harry nodded. "Yes. I think it's a good idea to take Zlito with you."
Seamus' smile was almost too much to bear.
They went to look for McGonagall, finding her at Dumbledore's side as usual. Harry explained the situation to her in quiet tones while Dumbledore took Seamus to find some treats for little Zlito, keeping his gaze away from hers. He knew this wasn't easy for anyone.
It went smoothly from there on; McGonagall acted as briskly as always, working on schedules with Mundungus Fletcher who had been the one to suggest these back up plans years ago. Seamus would have to travel on his own, but there would be people to stay with him when he reached the house, people who would be ready to welcome others as well, who would be able to deal with those who would crack under the pressure of all the fighting or maybe afterwards when yet another generation would be haunted by night terrors.
Harry had the sinking feeling that they wouldn't have to wait for long.
He watched the procedings quietly, managing a few words to Draco when he came to ask if he wanted a rain check on their training. With McGonagall ushering Seamus away from the hall, he shook his head, knowing he wasn't going to be able to concentrate on anything important right now anyway.
Behind him, some of the younger Order members were whispering quietly, pointing at the door. Harry could well hear the name 'Finnigan' muttered, but chose not to pay attention to whatever they were saying until someone commented louder, "Damn stupid coward!"
He squeezed his hands into fists.
"Yeah. I can't believe that git actually roomed with Potter for seven years. And he calls himself a Gryffindor!" It was followed by snorts and muffled laughter.
Turning slowly around, Harry glared at the small group of young men and women, casting a look full of contempt at them. "Has any one of you actually seen a battle or what's left of a home after a Death Eater raid?"
One of the witches who had been giggling opened her mouth and then shut it again with a snap. Then she shook her head.
Harry hadn't thought so. "Then don't make comments about things you don't understand. I call Seamus a Gryffindor and a friend." He managed not to say out loud what he'd call these people.
Why didn't people see what it was all about? Harry knew that if he could believe he might spend one night without nightmares, he'd be right there leaving with Seamus. The duty others had piled upon him held him here and he knew he couldn't live with himself if he simply left people to die.
He still wished he could just go and live in peace.
Now everyone in the small group were avoiding his angry gaze. "Sorry, sir. We didn't mean it like that."
Harry didn't even try to find anything to say; he turned around before the angry growl could escape.
He didn't know what bothered him the most, the way these people ridiculed Seamus or the way they treated him. He remembered seeing some of them in the Gryffindor common room when he'd been younger, most faces familiar from Hogwarts; a student passing by or a cheering, smiling spectator at the Quidditch pitch.
Now they called him sir.
Noticing Draco following him quietly, he headed straight to the training hall, not answering any of the greetings as he tried to find a quiet arena for a training match. He wasn't in the mood for a conversation, and it was a relief to see that Draco was still holding on to his anger as well.
Good. Now they were an even pair, both almost tingling with nervous energy.
People knew by now not to come and interrupt Harry when he was training, but there was a small crowd forming near the door, mostly older Order members who tried hard not to look like they were standing guard and making sure no one got hurt. Harry ignored them, keeping his attention on Draco and the curses flying between them, knowing that the narrow world where there was nothing but survival was the best place to stay right now.
He was almost glad he had lost to Draco in chess most of the times they had played, for otherwise the Slytherin would have probably looked angrier when he lost their every duel.
Now, Draco just seemed happy to be able to fling curses at him and try to dodge the ones he returned.
When they were finally too exhausted to really aim a wand, Harry shook Draco's hand with a weary smile on his face and then headed towards the shower. Sharing an easy silence, they went through their ablutions, almost like old teammates; it was sometimes hard to remember the rivalry there had been between the two Seekers, even with the competitive nature of their duels.
There were others in the small locker room changing their robes. Harry nodded at Dean and one of the Ravenclaws, not really looking for anyone's company right now.
It was clear from the somber looks thrown at his way that the word about Seamus had already spread through the Headquarters like wild fire.
Harry took his time toweling his hair dry and adjusting his robes, needing a moment before going back to the hallways and people and the noise that seemed to get louder every day. He barely acknowledged Draco leaving, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts he didn't really want to inspect too closely.
"Harry."
Looking up, Harry saw Dean walking by. "Hi, Dean." It came out almost as a sigh.
Dean's shoulders were set, his back ramrod rigid. "I'll... see you tomorrow then."
"Aren't you coming to say goodbye to Seamus?" Harry suddenly wondered if anyone would accompany him to the station, fearing his friend would leave thinking no one cared anymore. He hated the way things had deteriorated into this, especially when he couldn't think of anything he could have done to keep Seamus from slipping away.
After a brief hesitation, Dean shook his head, his expression completely blank. "No. I have nothing to say to him." Only his voice betrayed his anger.
"Dean... It's not his fault. He's not running away." Harry wondered why it was so hard for everyone to see. Like it was easier to label Seamus as a coward than it was to admit that the horrors of war would indeed drive even the bravest of them insane.
Dean shrugged. "Funny. That's what it looks like to me." Without other words, he turned around.
Harry watched Dean walk away.
He wondered if some day Dean would regret his decision and cursed the war that was tearing friendships apart so easily. There was nothing he could do for Dean, his housemate would have to make his own mind and then live with his actions.
It was raining as he walked Seamus to the station, warm raindrops falling on them both, a few even landing on the kitten that was firmly tucked under Seamus' robe, peeking from the open collar with eyes wide and curious.
Harry found it oddly befitting.
They weren't alone, Minerva McGonagall walking slowly beside Seamus, speaking softly about the safe house that would never be used as such. She was acting as if she was still responsible for Seamus.
Maybe in her mind she still was.
Seeing that talking about the house couldn't pull Seamus out of his gloomy thoughts, McGonagall changed the topic to cats and taking care of them. Apparently that was the right choice; Seamus' expression became less wooden and he even asked a few questions.
Harry smiled at McGonagall. It was great she was here, using quiet words and familiar tones to keep the mood from turning awkward.
The train was already waiting, the sight a bit strange considering that Harry had never seen a train here unless it was the Hogwarts Express, and even that seemed to operate only twice a year.
There were also three very familiar people waiting at the platform.
Harry was glad Hermione didn't hold back like Lavender and Parvati so clearly did and just came to hug Seamus.
"I... I guess this is it, then." Seamus didn't even try to pretend reluctant to leave, relief shining in his gaze as he looked at the train.
The words seemed to jolt Parvati and Lavender out of their stupor and the two girls descended on Seamus, hugging him and telling him to take care of himself. Lavender was sniffling as she let go, accepting the handkerchief from Parvati with a slight nod.
Looking a bit uncomfortable, Seamus turned towards the train, hopping on the first step before anyone else could hug him.
"Wait up!"
Freezing on the step, Seamus turned around to see Ron and Neville run to the platform. His expression was incredulous.
"Phew!" Ron let out a panting sigh. "We thought we'd miss you!"
Seamus' face lit up, and for a moment he looked almost like he used to. "You guys..."
"We got you something for the journey!" Neville smirked, waving a huge bag full of chocolate frogs. "Don't drop them all, or you'll have to spend the whole trip hunting for frogs. Like... you know."
That brought a wobbly smile on Seamus' face, a reminder of frog hunts and evenings spent in the Gryffindor Tower giggling as if you really could get drunk on chocolate only. He grabbed the offered bag and squeezed it against his chest while Zlito did his best to crawl inside the bag to investigate. "You guys..." He didn't seem to be able to say anything else.
Neville clasped his hand on Seamus' shoulder and then stepped to the side when Ron did the same. There were promises to owl and halted words of farewell and then the train whistled to signal its departure.
For just a fraction of a second, Seamus hesitated. Then he shoved the bag of chocolate frogs under his arm and climbed on board the train.
"Bye, Seamus!"
Echoing Neville's words, Ron called, "Bye! Owl us!" He waved his hand as the train started moving.
"Good bye Mr. Finnigan. And good luck," professor McGonagall said. Her smile was genuine, widening slightly as she watched her former student wave back and then nuzzle against the kitten.
Harry stood there, staring for as long as he could still see the train. He didn't know what to think, what to feel. After sharing his life for seven years with Seamus, he hated watching him leave, but at the same time he was relieved. This was one friend he wouldn't have to watch die.
Shivering, he pulled his robe tighter around himself, and then turned to leave.
He blocked out Neville and Ron's babbling and the occasional word from Hermione, lost in his own wistful thoughts. The way professor McGonagall looked at him as she turned towards Hogwarts made him shake his head slightly, as if she had actually asked if he wanted to join her for the short walk.
This wasn't worse than what he had expected, the losses and the pain hurting just as much as he'd always thought they would. He needed to deal with this right now, on his own, for he knew that if he crawled into Snape's rooms right now, feeling raw, he might never have enough strength to leave.
It didn't mean he wasn't tempted, but he forced himself to walk to their house, keeping his face expressionless, not wiping the raindrops off his cheeks as they landed there and then rolled down slowly like tears.
He kicked his shoes off and refused to look at Ron as he fumbled with his own clothes next to him in the hallway, as if he was feeling the tension on his skin as well.
Ignoring the worried look on Sirius' face, Harry continued to walk towards the stairs, waving Hermione away when she tried to say something to him. He couldn't deal with words right now.
He knew his friends just wanted to make him feel better, but he knew they couldn't. Selfish beyond anything he'd ever done, he refused to be consoled just to make everyone calm down. Though he knew things would be all right, it felt like the world was falling apart.
And nothing was really going to change that.
