Redeem Me

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write…are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.

Redeem Me…by Samayel

Chapter 53: Let Me Tell You A Story

The arrival of Severus Snape at the Burrow occurred without fanfare. He stepped into the modest living room, robes dusted with soot, and uttered a hasty spell to clean himself quickly. He placed his bags on the floor and favored the assembled persons with a frosty gaze, nodding curtly to Arthur and Molly, as well as Draco, then stared disdainfully in Harry’s direction before turning back to the people that would be his hosts for the next few days. Molly interrupted the arch silence.

“Hello, Severus. Welcome to our home. We’re grateful that you’d come all this way to help Draco. Supper is ready, and I’m sure you’d like a cup of proper tea…after being away so long. Shall we all move to the table and take our seats? It’s past time for supper as it is an-”

“No,” Snape replied flatly. “I will be fasting…and so will Draco. What we will be doing tomorrow requires it of him, and I should do so as well, to ensure that this is done once and done correctly. I have a home that hasn’t been attended to in more than a year, and I mean to see to it as soon as matters here are resolved.”

Draco looked crestfallen. One of the chief pleasures of his life these days was the food that Molly prepared each day and night. He hadn’t expected to skip dinner and breakfast for this, but Severus Snape knew his business, and there was no point in arguing over it. The sooner it was done the better. Harry’s glare could be felt from across the room, and Draco watched Snape turn a withering look to Harry in response.

“Mr. Potter. Is there something amiss?”

Harry scowled, obviously biting back comments that would have seared the ears of everyone present. Draco gave a panicked look to Harry, silently pleading for patience.

“I don’t recall anything in the texts I read mentioning a fast. Is there some reason for this, or do you just feel like spoiling dinner for the rest of us? I read the material extensively, and I can tell you that starving yourselves was never mentioned anywhere.”

The tone of challenge was clear, but at least Harry had just stuck to a terse statement instead of cruder barbs or open threats. Snape’s face colored slightly, and he delivered his response with a voice that was laden with honeyed venom.

“You’ve improved. The last time I saw you, Mr. Potter, you would have been both incorrect, and lacked anything resembling studies to support your conclusion. Suffice it to say that, had you performed this procedure before, you would know my reasons. The headaches from psychic surgery are legendary in this limited field. Nausea and vomiting are routine side effects of prolonged Legilimency, especially for the subject. By all means, if you wish to heap upon Draco the additional discomfort of a full stomach when he awakens, do invite him to ignore my recommendations…but I shall expect you to attend to him after, and it will be you holding the bucket for his bile. Now…will there be anymore questions, or may we dispense with these trivialities and just assume that I understand what needs to be done?”

Harry’s face pursed, as if he’d just bitten a lemon, and he nodded ‘no’ with only a few seconds hesitation.

“Very well then. Draco. Show me to the room I will be occupying, then we will speak while the others dine. You may have water, if you wish, and I recommend it tonight, since tomorrow and the morning after you will be in no condition to take in much of anything. Lead the way.”

As abruptly as he’d arrived, Severus Snape followed Draco up the stairs with black bags in hand, a look of vague distaste firmly in place all the way to his room. As soon as Draco opened the door to Bill’s old room, which had been neatened for the occasion, Snape stalked in with a snarl.

“Close the door and take a chair. Muffliato! There. We have matters which should be discussed, without interruption by that intemperate and meddling ass below us.”

Draco sat in the chair beside the writing desk, watching nervously while Snape unpacked a series of bottles and placed them on the nightstand, then set aside his clothes for the next day. After a lengthy pause, Snape spoke without even turning to Draco.

“First, are you still certain that you wish to continue on this course? Remain here, concern yourself with Potter and the spirit that bedevils him, and endure this particular treatment?”

“Yes. I don’t want anything else.”

Snape sniffed. “You lack ambition, but I scarcely care. If this is what you choose, so be it. If you wish this to succeed, the burden lies not merely upon my skill as a Legilimens, but also upon your preparedness, your will, and the purity of your intent. If you enter into this with a mind that flinches from the truth, you will fail, and the shields I build will have no foundation upon which to rest. What I will ask of you will be hard, but you say you are certain, and we shall see how certain you truly are.”

Severus sat on the edge of the bed, fixing Draco with a cool and serious gaze that held no malice.

“Draco. Tonight, you must do more than fast. You must face all that you have endured, and voice your fears, your shames, and your desires. When I place these wards within your mind, there must be no doubt left in you, and no flaw that will leave them tumbling after I have gone. You do not have to be perfect in a single night, but you must face your imperfections and embrace them, or risk letting them quickly undo the work I will have wrought. You may tell what you wish to whom you wish, but you must give these things voice. If you cannot do this, the risk of failure is incalculably higher.”

Draco sat in numb shock. Nothing had prepared him for this possibility. Fasting was easy enough, and he’d starved for months and lived. A day or so without food was no challenge, but this? This was far more terrifying than any ritual or sacrifice. This was an exposure of the self, and Draco’s cheeks were already burning at the notion of speaking his fears aloud.

“If there is no other to whom you can speak, I will be your confessor. I will not mock you, though I disagree with your choices, and with the company you keep. There are things at play more significant than what I think of these matters, and if this is required of me as well, so be it.”

Draco’s tone was hushed. “Thank you. I need to think for awhile. I don’t know what to say. There’s…there’s too much. I’d prefer to talk about these things to you, but I think there are some things I should tell others about. I have other questions for you though, and you know what they’re about. You saw what was in my mind. You know what we’re dealing with. Do you know anything that could help? You and Albus are the only people besides Harry that know everything about the making and destroying of Horcruxes.”

Snape huffed. “Albus didn’t tell you everything, but he told you what you needed to know most. As for the making of such a thing, I have seen it done once, while Voldemort was still consolidating his power, and preparing for the prophecy he feared by making himself effectively immortal. He used the energy that is brought to bear by a dying victim to fuel his effort to break away a piece of his own soul. It required enormous effort, as well as the absence of fear of pain, and he simply willed the portion of his soul to bind to an artifact of his choosing. Nagini became his eyes and ears in the world, even after his destruction at the Potter residence. Thus, bound to her, the snake became a vehicle by which he could aid his recovery and sustain his life. To destroy a living Horcrux, the only certainly effective path is to kill the host. This is the only means we have seen employed and know to be successful. With Potter, more may be possible.

The link between Potter and Voldemort was always unique. In accordance with the prophecy, the Dark Lord was crippled and robbed of his flesh by the curse that recoiled against him. Potter was scarred ever after, and a link was forged between them. A measure of his power, such as Parseltongue, comes from the link between him and Voldemort. I have seen in your mind the things which you shared with Albus, and I agree. The Dark Lord used his own violent death to catapult his soul into Potter, using the link between them as a tether to guide him in. He was weak at first, and Potter made a safe vehicle for him, but as he has fed on Potter’s lust for revenge, and fueled it with his own undying lust for power, Potter has weakened, and the boundary between the two of them is slipping.

You can be sure that Harry Potter will never simply become Lord Voldemort, but the fusion of the two of them will create a man that possesses the full magical power of both souls, and has no moral boundaries left to guide him. Even the Dark Lord alone would never have been this powerful. This is what Albus fears. You must engineer a situation in which Harry confronts himself, acknowledges that a hostile spirit exists inside of him, and ejects that spirit without hatred or violence. This is not possession; no exorcism would suffice. Only that boy can cast out the remnants of the Dark Lord, and the world hangs in the balance. If this cannot be done, a way must be found to incapacitate and contain him. He is simply too powerful to be left to his own devices, and the only other choice would be to kill him before he loses himself completely and becomes a threat to the entire world. Do you understand now why I hoped you would choose another path? I would not wish this for you, Draco, but I will make my amends to Albus by helping you to prepare for what comes.”

Draco took this information in, and it was a bitter draught. Somehow, he’d hoped that Snape would have an insight that made things easier, or some trick or spell to bring Harry around quickly. The realization that there was little else to be done was sobering in the extreme. Only Harry could save himself, and he would be armed only with love in the end. Draco had no other recourse, and answered Snape haltingly.

“I…I see. I appreciate that you want something better for me than this. Something safer. But I want this. Even if I have to fight for it. I don’t think I’ve ever been happy like this before…here. You’ve…you’ve seen what I’ve done…where I’ve been. I’m not afraid of death. Not anymore. I’m afraid of losing this. I like how I feel here. I like who I am, or who I could be, here. They’re good people. They’ve given me so much. It would be a poor repayment of that generosity to just abandon them now.

I want Harry. I know you don’t understand it, and I know you don’t like it, but I don’t think you’ll ever see him the way I do. I know there is something about him worth fighting for. You can see the memories, or hear my thoughts, but you’ll never see them the way I lived them. He’s the most gentle person I’ve ever known, and he cares about others with a passion I don’t think you can even imagine. Dying to protect that…would be an honor I’m not even sure I deserve. I know what I feel now. In my heart. It’s clearer than ever, and I won’t pretend it isn’t real. I always admired you, because you were like iron. Unyielding, always pushing for perfection, never letting emotions own you, no matter what you privately thought. I wanted to be like you.

I was too young to know better. You don’t keep your thoughts veiled because you’re strong. You hide them because you’re afraid. That’s what Albus Dumbledore knew, isn’t it? You trusted him because he truly knew you, and he was still your friend. That’s what made you willing to do anything he asked of you, anything that he said was needed. Maybe you don’t believe it, but that’s how I feel about Harry. He trusts me, and I don’t think anyone else ever has. I’ll do anything to have that. Anything.”

Snape had watched Draco from the corner of his eye throughout their conversation, his expression giving away nothing of his inner thoughts, but in that last moment, a faint smirk creased the corner of his mouth. Draco couldn’t have known it, but something like a perverse sort of pride had filled his former mentor.

“Very well, Draco. You surprise me, and I did not think I could still be surprised. Your insight will serve you well, and I will take you at your word. I had thought the teaching would be harder, but it seems that the pupil was educated before the instructor made it to the classroom. I cannot fault you for wanting such a friendship. I only warn you that few ever find one. See me after you have had time to think, or we can begin now, if you wish?”

Draco let himself breathe again, proud that Snape had offered his praise, even in a roundabout way, and made his way to the door.

“I’m going to my room. I’ll talk to Harry first, and then I’ll come to see you. Thank you.”

Draco accepted Snape’s dismissive nod and made his way down the hall. His own room was clean and quiet, and there was much he needed to think over. Obviously, he couldn’t tell Harry everything, but there was a strange freedom that only truth could bring, and there were things he’d only dreamed of saying to Harry before now. No matter how uncomfortable the subject might make him, there was now a greater purpose behind sharing his fears with Harry.

Draco mulled over the past two years, picking apart so many things he’d felt at so many different times. His doubts, his fears and shames, his dreams and disappointments, all of them. He let his mind drift and wander through the past weeks in particular, and he did not shy away from the impact that Harry had made in his life. Harry couldn’t yet know of Draco’s plans to help him, but tonight, tonight he would know more than Draco had ever dared to say before, and Draco prayed that when Snape’s work was finished, what had been shared would be the foundation of something that wouldn’t break under the strain of other secrets. It made sense, really. He couldn’t expect to wake up as a different person, just because of confessions and Legilimency, but he could make himself closer to Harry, and all it would cost was gambling on Harry understanding the fears and doubts that Draco privately held. It was a gamble that Draco could believe would pay off.

Harry paced the living room in silence. Arthur and Molly were dining together, and he’d been asked to join them, but refused. His irritation with Snape was almost under control, but the idea of entrusting Draco’s sanity to that arrogant prick had killed his appetite. The books hadn’t mentioned anything more than headaches, and hadn’t implied that the magnitude of the headache would be so great. How was he to have known? It was bitterly similar to his time at Hogwarts, listening to Snape mock him for not understanding something so obscure that a student couldn’t possibly have known it, then holding himself up as some fucking standard of excellence against a group of children. It was galling, but Harry had promised to endure anything for Draco, and if controlling his tongue and temper meant missing a meal, then so be it.

“Harry?”

Draco was at the last step of the stairs, and he looked weirdly peaceful, as if some beatific calm had come over him while he was upstairs. Harry paused and answered, his train of thought completely derailed by the sight of Draco, who seemed somehow more determined and comfortable than he had looked since his arrival.

“Yes?”

“We need to talk. Will you come upstairs with me? There are some things I want to say, and some other things I need to say, before tomorrow. Is that okay?”

Harry felt the annoyance that had gnawed at him slide away. Tension slipped from him, and he nodded quietly and followed Draco up to the room they‘d shared for just over a fortnight.

Draco sat upon the edge of the bed, and he motioned for Harry to sit beside him. The smile that was firmly fixed in place took the edge off of Harry’s worries, since he hadn’t seen Draco looking happy in days, and the only gnawing disappointment was the ugly realization that a conversation with Severus Snape had likely been the cause of this sudden good mood. Harry took a seat, wishing the brief sense of comfort between the two of them would return. They hadn’t even exercised together lately, and their contact had been limited to brief exchanges of vague affection, peppered with hints of regret. It would be a fine thing if Draco told him what was wrong. At least then Harry would be able to try and set things right. At this point, almost any price would be worth regaining that comfortable familiarity that had grown between them for such a short time.

“Harry, there are a lot of things I wanted to tell you about. Things I think about, but don’t say. Snape says that before he starts tomorrow, I need to let go of my fears and doubts…share things I’ve kept private with people that matter to me. Otherwise, the shields he’ll craft in my mind might fail. I guess I wanted to wait until the time was right, but…since I have to get some of this out tonight, I thought it would be best just to say everything at once. Would it be alright if you just let me speak? No interruptions. Just to let me get all of this out before I lose my nerve?”

“Sure…but can I say one thing first? I wanted to tell this to you earlier, but we never really got a chance today.”

“Yeah. What is it?”

“Draco…you’re probably going to be a lot better in a short while…and there isn’t really a reason for you to stay, except if you want to. I’d like it if you did. The holidays are coming, and the rest of the Weasley family will be here soon. Um…it’s going to get pretty cramped in the Burrow, probably for at least a week or two. I was just wondering if…if you’d mind…staying in my room?

Draco felt like his heart would burst; it was pounding in his chest so hard that he could feel it in his eardrums. It was almost deafening, and he couldn’t hold back the way his smile was spreading into a mad grin.

“I don’t think I’d mind that at all. Besides, you have a bigger bed anyway. And just so you know…Harry, I don’t want to go anywhere. I know it’s been hard sometimes, and things aren’t perfect, but I’m very happy here. I wouldn’t want to go somewhere else, even if I had somewhere else to go…unless…unless it was with you. Do you understand?”

Harry sighed pure relief and dropped his head into his hands while he caught his breath.

“Yes! Thank you. I was…it was stupid of me…I didn’t want you to l-”

“Leave? Let me say it again, then. You thick-headed Gryffindors need everything spelled out for you. I’m staying as long as there’s a place for me. I wasn’t lying when I said I love you. I haven’t even figured out what that means, and I was hoping it might take a little longer than this. You know? Something like maybe seventy or eighty years. That ought to be enough to work out a good definition for it. Sound good?”

Harry finally lost the slender thread of control he’d held onto for weeks. He moved quickly and placed his hands very gently along Draco’s jaw and cheeks, moving forward intently and with a soft whisper.

“Forgive me. Just this once…let me kiss you.”

Draco had always taken the initiative, safe with the knowledge that the circumstances were under his control. Though his heart trembled, and cruel barbs of memory made him shudder, these things melted slowly away, and Harry’s kiss was a balm that soothed all aches. Draco unclenched his will and let all thoughts of control drift away.

’Merlin’s Name! I’ve missed this. This is even better than when I was the one kissing him! I don’t even know what I was afraid of anymore. The Dark Lord doesn’t own him. He’s just a stowaway that won’t let go and just die. He wouldn’t do this, couldn’t say those things. This is Harry, and I love him. I’ll never give this up. Never.’

They’d forgotten everything for a time, and came back to themselves haltingly at first, still uncertain of how they’d wound up on their backs, curled in each other's arms. Draco felt himself trembling with nerves, and Harry sensed it a moment later, pulling away slowly and apologizing.

“I’m sorry, love. I…I just had to. I don’t know if you understand what that means to me. I didn’t mean to-”

Draco broke him off quickly. “Don’t worry. I liked it. In a couple days I won’t be like this anymore, and everything will be different…better even. I think it’s time to tell you some things, and I think I know just how I’d like to do that. Lay on your side…facing away from me.”

Harry looked puzzled, but slowly rolled to his side and faced the door to the room, while Draco shifted on the bed behind him. They were still atop the covers and fully clothed, and Harry hadn’t the faintest idea what Draco was on about, but he was more than willing to wait and find out.

Draco was suddenly pressed almost flush against Harry’s back, and a slender arm slithered under Harry’s own and pulled him close to the boy behind him. Draco was shuddering ever so faintly, but his whisper in Harry’s ear made it clear that he was alright.

“Perfect. You know it wasn’t even that long ago that I couldn’t even imagine this? Harry…let me tell you a story.”


TBC!!!