Blind Beauty
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
36
Views:
40,020
Reviews:
227
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
36
Views:
40,020
Reviews:
227
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Stonewalled
Chapter Number/Total: 21/36
Chapter Title: Stonewalled
Words: 1899 Words
"There you are," Hermione said. "We were wondering when you would show."
Harry got up slowly, having fallen when he came out of the fireplace. "I hate Flooing," he muttered, brushing off the soot from his clothes. "And yes, here I am. Sorry it took me so long ... woke up late."
"Sure, mate," Ron said. "Have you eaten? Mum made a lot of food, as usual."
"Not yet." His stomach grumbled at the thought.
"Sit down," Ron said. "I'll get you something."
Harry pulled his wand out and said the Vision Spell, glancing around the room. He didn't know the Burrow by feel.
"Using that spell again?" Hermione said. "I have been reading up on Vision Spells."
Harry sat down, looking at her. "Find anything interesting about them?"
"The one you are using," she said, "is a True Sight Spell. Do you know what that means?"
"That I can see the truth?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It means that if someone is using a Disguise Charm or Invisibility Cloak, for example, you would still be able to see them," she answered excitedly.
Harry grinned. "That's brilliant, Hermione! Does it work like that all the time?"
"That's what the spell is for," she said. "To see what is hidden."
"And it also lets me see." He leaned back in the couch, still grinning.
"Harry," she said, "it also means that whatever is keeping you from seeing is also a type of magical concealment spell."
"Really? I don't know, Hermione. I thought it was that, too. I mean, even Draco said that it was a spell. But I've been like this for so long. Even if somehow someone can take it off, I doubt I'd be okay," he replied, shrugging a bit. He had been thinking about it for a while now.
"We don't know that, Harry," she said. "It's only been a few months."
"I don't feel okay," he mumbled, looking away.
She put her hand on his. "What is it?" she asked.
"I don't know. You know how you just ... feel like something's not right? While I've been like this, I've gotten used to not seeing everything. I hardly use the spell anymore. It feels like this is the way things are supposed to be ... and if I change it, everything will fall apart."
He heard Hermione's sigh.
"And I mean with myself, too," he continued softly, biting his lip gently.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she said quietly.
"What is there to talk about? I'm just scared, Hermione," he answered.
"Sometimes it helps people to talk about these things," she said.
"I guess," he muttered, sighing. He didn't really feel like talking about it all, however.
"You know I will listen if you want to talk," she said patting his hand.
"I know." He shrugged, taking a deep breath. "I want to sort things out first, though."
Ron placed a plate of food in front of Harry and sat down with one of his own.
"Thanks, Ron," he said, looking at the food gratefully.
They ate and chatted as if things were normal. Even Ron trying to talk with his mouth full and Hermione nattering on about the latest books she had read.
Harry laughed as he ate, joking with Ron and poking fun at Hermione. It was easy to forgot about how much their lives had changed at moments like these.
Eventually, lunch was done and they would need to go soon if they were still going to the Ministry. "Ready, Harry?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded, standing up. "I'm ready."
Hermione put Floo powder in his hand and then went through ahead of him.
Harry stepped up behind her, throwing the powder into the fire. "Ministry of Magic!" he said clearly, stepping into the green flames.
Hermione held her hand out and helped catch Harry at the other end so that he didn't fall again.
"Thanks," he said, stepping through as he squeezed her hand. "Now, where to?"
"Hey, mate," Ron said, "we are the escorts, not the ones in charge."
"Oh, I know. Escort me to the Minister then," he replied, shrugging.
The went through security, passes were issued and wands evaluated, then made their way to the Minister's office, where a falsely cheerful middle-aged witch enquired if they had an appointment.
"Not exactly," Harry spoke up, stepping forward. "I was hoping I'd be able to speak with him anyway."
"Minister Scrimgeour is very busy and not available to drop-in visitors," she said haughtily.
"Well, we're the exception," Harry replied firmly. He didn't want to resort to this, but he added, "Maybe you should tell him Harry Potter is here."
"Harry Potter?" the woman said and then he heard the pause while she obviously looked him over. "Excuse me while I see if the Minister is available."
"Right, we won't be going anywhere," he answered, looking smug.
After a minute, he heard the door open again and the woman speaking. "Minister Scrimgeour only has a few minutes, but he says he is happy to see you for a brief visit. Would your friends like to take seats?"
"Would it be a problem for them to join me as well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Like I said, the Minister is very busy," she said.
"We are going in with him," Hermione said firmly, putting her hand in the crook of his arm.
"Yes," echoed Ron.
Harry smiled, nodding. "Shall we go in?"
The woman opened the door and Hermione led Harry through it.
"Harry, my boy, nice to see you," Scrimgeour said, his voice coming closer as the man got up to meet him.
Harry nodded politely, holding his hand out for a handshake. "Nice to ... hear your voice again, I guess."
"Oh, so you are still ...." The man trailed off but did take Harry's hand to shake.
Harry didn't answer, shaking his hand firmly. "So, about what I'm here for," he started.
"I hope you are recovering well," Scrimgeour said after briefly greeting Hermione and Ron. "Sit down for a few minutes. I have a meeting, but I can be a tad late."
"This'll take more than just a tad bit, Minister," Harry said, letting Hermione guide him to a chair. He sat down, looking serious.
"What's on your mind, Harry?" the man said in a tone like he was talking to a youngster.
Harry narrowed his eyes but began to talk. "It's about Draco Malfoy and his case."
Harry heard the man sigh. "His case will be reviewed," he said. "You don't need to worry about that."
"Oh, I don't want it to be reviewed. I want him to be free. Permanently," he said clearly.
"Harry," the Minister said in the tone of one explaining a difficult fact to a small child, "these things take time. He was convicted by his own confession. Just because he has changed his story doesn't change the law."
"His own confession was forced from him! Because of the damn interrogators," Harry replied angrily.
"Do you have any evidence for that accusation, Harry?" The Minister's voice sounded disapproving.
Harry was beginning to get frustrated. "He told me himself."
"Harry, after a month in Azkaban, most would say anything to get out," he said in that false-friendly voice.
"Oh, please! He told me that the interrogators forced him to confess. It was either that or they'd use an Unforgivable on him! He was already subjected to unbelievable amounts of pain, so you tell me, Minister Scrimgeour, would you also confess just so you wouldn't be hurt any more?!" Harry was gripping the arms of the chair by the time he finished speaking, his breath coming in short pants.
"The fact remains that he does have the Dark Mark," Scrimgeour countered, "which is tantamount to confession of murder."
"Oh, so you wouldn't know that he was forced into that as well. His own father was hurting him, Minister! Whatever he did, he did it out of fear for his life," he replied quickly, nails digging grooves in the chair. "And need I remind you, he saved mine?"
"So you have told us," the Minister said, "but my predecessors were too lenient on Death Eaters after the first war and look where it got us. If we let everyone go who said they were forced to do it, we would be back where we started."
"That isn't the point, and you know it," Harry said firmly, shaking his head.
"Why isn't that the point?" the Minister asked. "You think we should give special treatment to Malfoy? Isn't that how his father escaped us before?"
"You owe him special treatment. His father escaped you before because he was basically paying everyone off with his money. I believe that's only your fault," he replied calmly.
"Harry, you shouldn't throw around such accusations," Scrimgeour said in an angry tone. "You won't get very far with this attitude."
"Why not? It's what you do," he countered, sitting back in his seat. "Now, as I was saying, you owe him. He was already hurt by that damn werewolf, but instead of taking him to get proper care, you lot threw him in a cell. You owe him."
"Why does this concern you, Mr Potter?" The Minister's tone was harsh as he switched to the formal address instead of using Harry's first name.
"Now that, I don't believe, is any of your business. Let's just say that it's something that I want taken care of. Now," he said.
"Are you threatening me, Mr Potter?" the man asked.
"Of course not, Minister. I didn't say I wanted it taken care of or else."
"Well, I will look into the matter as soon as I can," Scrimgeour said, rising from his chair. "In the meantime, I am already late for a meeting."
Harry didn't get up immediately. "You also owe me, Minister."
That stopped the man and Harry heard another large sigh. "We are all grateful for what you have done and the ... sacrifices you made," he said.
"Not grateful enough, apparently," he murmured, loudly enough for him to hear. He reached out for Hermione's hand as he stood up.
Once they were out in the hall again with Hermione leading, Hermione said, "Harry, have you thought about using your fame to help with this?"
"Yeah, I thought about it," he answered, shrugging slightly. "Looks like I'll have to, hm?"
"The Daily Prophet would do almost anything for an interview with you," Ron said.
Harry nodded, but sighed. "I really don't want to ... but if it helps ...."
"Talk it over with Draco," Hermione suggested. "But it may be the only way to get them to overturn the sentence and save the jobs of our friends."
"I will." He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks for coming with me."
"Do you want us to come back with you to the house?" Hermione asked.
"No, you two go back home," he answered.
They walked him to the Floo where Ron patted him on the back and Hermione hugged him. "Just let us know what you want to do next," she said, putting Floo powder in his hand.
"I will. Thanks again." He threw the powder into the fire then stepped into it, saying "Grimmauld Place" clearly. He landed inside the kitchen with a huff, soot all around him.
Chapter Title: Stonewalled
Words: 1899 Words
"There you are," Hermione said. "We were wondering when you would show."
Harry got up slowly, having fallen when he came out of the fireplace. "I hate Flooing," he muttered, brushing off the soot from his clothes. "And yes, here I am. Sorry it took me so long ... woke up late."
"Sure, mate," Ron said. "Have you eaten? Mum made a lot of food, as usual."
"Not yet." His stomach grumbled at the thought.
"Sit down," Ron said. "I'll get you something."
Harry pulled his wand out and said the Vision Spell, glancing around the room. He didn't know the Burrow by feel.
"Using that spell again?" Hermione said. "I have been reading up on Vision Spells."
Harry sat down, looking at her. "Find anything interesting about them?"
"The one you are using," she said, "is a True Sight Spell. Do you know what that means?"
"That I can see the truth?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It means that if someone is using a Disguise Charm or Invisibility Cloak, for example, you would still be able to see them," she answered excitedly.
Harry grinned. "That's brilliant, Hermione! Does it work like that all the time?"
"That's what the spell is for," she said. "To see what is hidden."
"And it also lets me see." He leaned back in the couch, still grinning.
"Harry," she said, "it also means that whatever is keeping you from seeing is also a type of magical concealment spell."
"Really? I don't know, Hermione. I thought it was that, too. I mean, even Draco said that it was a spell. But I've been like this for so long. Even if somehow someone can take it off, I doubt I'd be okay," he replied, shrugging a bit. He had been thinking about it for a while now.
"We don't know that, Harry," she said. "It's only been a few months."
"I don't feel okay," he mumbled, looking away.
She put her hand on his. "What is it?" she asked.
"I don't know. You know how you just ... feel like something's not right? While I've been like this, I've gotten used to not seeing everything. I hardly use the spell anymore. It feels like this is the way things are supposed to be ... and if I change it, everything will fall apart."
He heard Hermione's sigh.
"And I mean with myself, too," he continued softly, biting his lip gently.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she said quietly.
"What is there to talk about? I'm just scared, Hermione," he answered.
"Sometimes it helps people to talk about these things," she said.
"I guess," he muttered, sighing. He didn't really feel like talking about it all, however.
"You know I will listen if you want to talk," she said patting his hand.
"I know." He shrugged, taking a deep breath. "I want to sort things out first, though."
Ron placed a plate of food in front of Harry and sat down with one of his own.
"Thanks, Ron," he said, looking at the food gratefully.
They ate and chatted as if things were normal. Even Ron trying to talk with his mouth full and Hermione nattering on about the latest books she had read.
Harry laughed as he ate, joking with Ron and poking fun at Hermione. It was easy to forgot about how much their lives had changed at moments like these.
Eventually, lunch was done and they would need to go soon if they were still going to the Ministry. "Ready, Harry?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded, standing up. "I'm ready."
Hermione put Floo powder in his hand and then went through ahead of him.
Harry stepped up behind her, throwing the powder into the fire. "Ministry of Magic!" he said clearly, stepping into the green flames.
Hermione held her hand out and helped catch Harry at the other end so that he didn't fall again.
"Thanks," he said, stepping through as he squeezed her hand. "Now, where to?"
"Hey, mate," Ron said, "we are the escorts, not the ones in charge."
"Oh, I know. Escort me to the Minister then," he replied, shrugging.
The went through security, passes were issued and wands evaluated, then made their way to the Minister's office, where a falsely cheerful middle-aged witch enquired if they had an appointment.
"Not exactly," Harry spoke up, stepping forward. "I was hoping I'd be able to speak with him anyway."
"Minister Scrimgeour is very busy and not available to drop-in visitors," she said haughtily.
"Well, we're the exception," Harry replied firmly. He didn't want to resort to this, but he added, "Maybe you should tell him Harry Potter is here."
"Harry Potter?" the woman said and then he heard the pause while she obviously looked him over. "Excuse me while I see if the Minister is available."
"Right, we won't be going anywhere," he answered, looking smug.
After a minute, he heard the door open again and the woman speaking. "Minister Scrimgeour only has a few minutes, but he says he is happy to see you for a brief visit. Would your friends like to take seats?"
"Would it be a problem for them to join me as well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Like I said, the Minister is very busy," she said.
"We are going in with him," Hermione said firmly, putting her hand in the crook of his arm.
"Yes," echoed Ron.
Harry smiled, nodding. "Shall we go in?"
The woman opened the door and Hermione led Harry through it.
"Harry, my boy, nice to see you," Scrimgeour said, his voice coming closer as the man got up to meet him.
Harry nodded politely, holding his hand out for a handshake. "Nice to ... hear your voice again, I guess."
"Oh, so you are still ...." The man trailed off but did take Harry's hand to shake.
Harry didn't answer, shaking his hand firmly. "So, about what I'm here for," he started.
"I hope you are recovering well," Scrimgeour said after briefly greeting Hermione and Ron. "Sit down for a few minutes. I have a meeting, but I can be a tad late."
"This'll take more than just a tad bit, Minister," Harry said, letting Hermione guide him to a chair. He sat down, looking serious.
"What's on your mind, Harry?" the man said in a tone like he was talking to a youngster.
Harry narrowed his eyes but began to talk. "It's about Draco Malfoy and his case."
Harry heard the man sigh. "His case will be reviewed," he said. "You don't need to worry about that."
"Oh, I don't want it to be reviewed. I want him to be free. Permanently," he said clearly.
"Harry," the Minister said in the tone of one explaining a difficult fact to a small child, "these things take time. He was convicted by his own confession. Just because he has changed his story doesn't change the law."
"His own confession was forced from him! Because of the damn interrogators," Harry replied angrily.
"Do you have any evidence for that accusation, Harry?" The Minister's voice sounded disapproving.
Harry was beginning to get frustrated. "He told me himself."
"Harry, after a month in Azkaban, most would say anything to get out," he said in that false-friendly voice.
"Oh, please! He told me that the interrogators forced him to confess. It was either that or they'd use an Unforgivable on him! He was already subjected to unbelievable amounts of pain, so you tell me, Minister Scrimgeour, would you also confess just so you wouldn't be hurt any more?!" Harry was gripping the arms of the chair by the time he finished speaking, his breath coming in short pants.
"The fact remains that he does have the Dark Mark," Scrimgeour countered, "which is tantamount to confession of murder."
"Oh, so you wouldn't know that he was forced into that as well. His own father was hurting him, Minister! Whatever he did, he did it out of fear for his life," he replied quickly, nails digging grooves in the chair. "And need I remind you, he saved mine?"
"So you have told us," the Minister said, "but my predecessors were too lenient on Death Eaters after the first war and look where it got us. If we let everyone go who said they were forced to do it, we would be back where we started."
"That isn't the point, and you know it," Harry said firmly, shaking his head.
"Why isn't that the point?" the Minister asked. "You think we should give special treatment to Malfoy? Isn't that how his father escaped us before?"
"You owe him special treatment. His father escaped you before because he was basically paying everyone off with his money. I believe that's only your fault," he replied calmly.
"Harry, you shouldn't throw around such accusations," Scrimgeour said in an angry tone. "You won't get very far with this attitude."
"Why not? It's what you do," he countered, sitting back in his seat. "Now, as I was saying, you owe him. He was already hurt by that damn werewolf, but instead of taking him to get proper care, you lot threw him in a cell. You owe him."
"Why does this concern you, Mr Potter?" The Minister's tone was harsh as he switched to the formal address instead of using Harry's first name.
"Now that, I don't believe, is any of your business. Let's just say that it's something that I want taken care of. Now," he said.
"Are you threatening me, Mr Potter?" the man asked.
"Of course not, Minister. I didn't say I wanted it taken care of or else."
"Well, I will look into the matter as soon as I can," Scrimgeour said, rising from his chair. "In the meantime, I am already late for a meeting."
Harry didn't get up immediately. "You also owe me, Minister."
That stopped the man and Harry heard another large sigh. "We are all grateful for what you have done and the ... sacrifices you made," he said.
"Not grateful enough, apparently," he murmured, loudly enough for him to hear. He reached out for Hermione's hand as he stood up.
Once they were out in the hall again with Hermione leading, Hermione said, "Harry, have you thought about using your fame to help with this?"
"Yeah, I thought about it," he answered, shrugging slightly. "Looks like I'll have to, hm?"
"The Daily Prophet would do almost anything for an interview with you," Ron said.
Harry nodded, but sighed. "I really don't want to ... but if it helps ...."
"Talk it over with Draco," Hermione suggested. "But it may be the only way to get them to overturn the sentence and save the jobs of our friends."
"I will." He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks for coming with me."
"Do you want us to come back with you to the house?" Hermione asked.
"No, you two go back home," he answered.
They walked him to the Floo where Ron patted him on the back and Hermione hugged him. "Just let us know what you want to do next," she said, putting Floo powder in his hand.
"I will. Thanks again." He threw the powder into the fire then stepped into it, saying "Grimmauld Place" clearly. He landed inside the kitchen with a huff, soot all around him.