Chapter Seventeen

This chapter was written by literaryspell.

Harry walked away from Draco...and Pansy...without looking back. He forced his footsteps to be even and precise. He didn't want to storm. Not with her watching.

Why the hell would Draco pick her over him? Harry was actually teaching him something, doing him a bloody favour, and Pansy was nothing but a airheaded attention whore stupid enough to blow a hole in the ground instead of conjuring a blanket to sit on. Not that Draco hadn't made the same mistake...but for some reason, it was a lot more annoying when Pansy did it.

Deciding he had to get out of the manor, Harry didn't stop walking until he was almost at the Malfoys' Apparition point by the front gates. To his dismay, Lucius Malfoy was there are well, straightening his cravat, his beringed pinkie finger held aloft.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Lucius said, glancing up briefly before continuing to fiddle.

Harry didn't bother telling him that no one knew how to tie a cravat in the first place, so no one would be able to tell it was imperfectly done. "Lucius," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was ready for a fight...and he hadn't been able to get one from Draco, so he'd settle for Malfoy Senior. He couldn't understand why he was so upset that Draco hadn't banished Pansy in favour of their lesson. As mad as he was, though, he was a tiny bit appreciative that Draco had told him he wasn't merely an employee...even though at times he felt more like a slave.

"Peachy informed me that Miss Parkinson arrived. I must say, their... friendship at times confounds me, given what I know about Draco." He raised an eyebrow as if to suggest Harry should know what he was referring to.

Harry frowned, but he wasn't in the mood to decipher Lucius' riddles. "Friendship?" He scoffed and shook his head. "I dunno what he even sees in her," he mumbled.

"Well, you needn't be concerned," Lucius said, finally satisfied with the swath of material at his throat. "Draco seems to have made his choice."

Despite Lucius' meaningful...meaningless, to Harry...look, Harry just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know he did. He let her interrupt our lesson...she walked right in."

Lucius' jaw tightened for a moment. "She walked in on a... lesson?"

His anger reigniting, Harry threw his arms up. "Right when we were about to start something really important, she jut waltzes right in and starts a picnic."

"A picnic?" Lucius looked aghast before he seemed to collect himself. "In any event, I'm certain he meant you no slight."

Ignoring him, Harry went on. "I try so hard to teach him everything I know...which really isn't a lot. We're flying blind a lot of the time, to be honest. But don't tell him that...he needs to trust me, and I think he's only just beginning to. If he knew I was almost as clueless as him, I'm sure he'd be much more wary about putting himself in my hands." Realising who he was talking to, Harry cut off his tirade. He didn't need to talk to Lucius Malfoy about Draco. He needed to talk to his friends.

"Yes, well..." Lucius looked a little dazed, a small frown creasing his brow. "Just be certain that you take especial care of my son, Mr. Potter. Malfoys are fierce in both love and hate."

With that, Lucius Disapparated, leaving Harry to wonder why in Merlin's name Lucius wanted him to take care of Draco...and why he was talking about love.

*

"Anyway," Harry said around his corned beef sandwich, "the minute she shows up, or owls, or whispers in his direction, Draco goes running." He got up and refilled his glass with pumpkin juice from Ron and Hermione's fridge before sitting back down at the table. It was rare that they were all able to get together for lunch, and Harry was relishing the opportunity to vent. And vent. And vent.

"He's bloody whipped is what he is," Ron said, taking a swig of his butterbeer and looking to Hermione for confirmation...possibly before realising Hermione wasn't likely to agree.

Indeed, Hermione seemed to be concentrating on Harry and not listening to Ron at all. "He blew off a lesson, just like that?"

"Like I'm his personal valet or something, sent away when someone more important shows up. What could be more important than winning his wand, his magic back?" Harry couldn't be sure why the whole situation was bothering him so much. Draco was an idiot if he thought Pansy was good company. And if he didn't want his wand back, well, maybe Harry was just wasting his time anyway.

"Who does he think he is?" Ron commiserated, though he seemed to be only half paying attention, so involved was he in his own sandwich.

Hermione picked at her food, popping bits of bread and meat into her mouth as she worked through whatever was happening inside her brain. Finally, she said, "I don't think Draco likes Pansy."

Ron scoffed. "Likes her well enough." He gave Harry a leer as if to say he wouldn't mind a bit of Pansy ifyouknowwhatImean. He then looked fearfully at Hermione, but she either hadn't interpreted Ron's knowing look or simply didn't care. Harry rather thought it was the latter, because there was nothing she couldn't interpret.

"I don't know, I'm just not getting the impression, from what you've said, that he really likes her. I mean, they're both pure-bloods...if they were going to marry, they would have done so already. And they aren't even betrothed."

Harry couldn't explain the relief he felt from her speculation, but then he had to wonder what marriage had to do with any of it. "What do I care if he marries her or not? I just want my bleeding life back!"

"Oi, mate, and Robards has been saying the unit's a lot quieter without you. They paired Neville with this tosser fresh out of Durmstrang. Just while you're on the Malfoy assignment, see."

"They gave my partner a new partner?" Harry narrowed his eyes. Draco wasn't just wasting his time and increasing his blood pressure...he was taking over Harry's entire life. "Bloody fuck."

"It's just temporary," Ron said quickly, seeming to realise how upset Harry was getting.

"And in any case, Harry, you've said Draco's lessons are going really well," Hermione said, finally taking a real bite of her sandwich. He waited for her to swallow and continue. "When are you going to let him fight you?"

"And where can I buy tickets?" Ron added, a gleeful look in his eyes.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "He wanted to fight me today and I almost let him, just to show him what an arse he is. But if I embarrass him, he won't want to try again."

"When do you think he'll be ready?"

"I wish I knew. I'm teaching him as much as I can, as fast as I can, but when he chooses Pansy fucking Parkinson over me...over the lessons, that is...I don't know what else I can do." Harry had a flashing vision of what might happen if Draco couldn't manage to beat him, or to even come close. The true weight of Draco's need for him made Harry straighten in his chair. Here he was, sulking to his friends, when he really should be with Draco, preparing him...whether Draco like it or not.

Harry stood, stuffing the last of his sandwich in his mouth. "I'm gonna get going," he garbled around the food. He swallowed and flashed a smile at Hermione, who was rolling her eyes at him. "Thanks for lunch."

"You're welcome anytime, Harry, you know that."

Harry nodded. It occurred to him how seldom he saw his friends outside of the Ministry or the pub. He would have to remedy that.

He Apparated into his old flat, making sure his wards hadn't been touched. Knowing, as he hadn't the last time he'd left, that he'd be staying at the manor for a significant length of time, Harry packed up more clothing, some of the detective novels from Hermione, and his own pillow...the one in his room at the manor was too fluffy.

Once he arrived back at the manor at the Apparition point, he walked around the side of the house to see if he could spot Draco and Pansy picnicking. Harry sneered. As far as he could tell, however, they weren't outside. He let himself hope that Draco had told her off, sent her home, but he knew that was unlikely.

As he made his way to his bedroom, he desperately hoped that Draco and Pansy weren't ensconced behind Draco's bedroom doors. Absolutely not interested but curious in the worst way, Harry paused outside Draco's room, listening. No sounds came from within. He breathed a sigh of relief...one that was quickly stolen from his lungs.

"Not very Gryffindorish, spying," Draco said in a musing voice, to Harry's left. He walked down the hall, a sardonic lilt to his lips.

"I wasn't spying," Harry said, too fast. He moved away from Draco's door to open his own, clutching his pillow to his chest like a teddy without realising it.

"Standing outside my door, eavesdropping...Potter, if you weren't spying... what were you doing?"

Under Draco's words were a silken suggestion...Harry didn't think he was hearing things, but he decided not to follow his instincts. Pansy's smug face was too fresh in his mind. "You're right," he said. "I was spying. Good job, you caught me."

Draco crossed his arms over his chest, but Harry didn't give him an opportunity to say anything. He opened his door and slipped inside, shutting it behind him, on Draco. He wasn't sure why he was so out of sorts...all right, pissed the bloody fuck off...but he did know it was Draco's fault. Who else had ever had that sort of power over Harry, the ability to make him see red without even trying?

But why, Harry wondered, was he hiding? This whole thing was Draco's fault, right down to losing his wand. If he hadn't been on the wrong side to begin with, Harry never would have taken his wand and nothing that followed would have happened.

He tossed his things onto his bed and stormed back to the door, yanking it open. Draco was still standing there, looking almost puzzled, and the unexpected glimpse behind Draco's mask melted some of Harry's ire.

"Lesson?" he said, making it more of an order than a suggestion.

Draco just nodded, and then followed Harry when he walked past, determined to regain the upper hand and forget about how Draco'd made him feel by ditching him earlier. To Draco, he was expendable, regardless of what Draco himself might have said. Harry had to remember that.

Harry led Draco through the manor, outside and across the manicured lawns to the centre of a decent-sized field...still on Malfoy grounds but far enough away that it didn't get the same attention as the rest of the lawn.

Neither spoke a single word until Harry chose his spot. Then Harry spun, facing Draco, and held out his hand. "Avis! " A flock of bird appeared in front of Harry's hand. "Oppungo!" They dived at Draco in a single line.

"Potter!" Draco shouted, dodging the kamikaze birds. The first three missed him, but then two made contact, thudding against his stomach and chest, beak first. Draco cried out as the birds that had missed him circled back and resumed their attack. Soon, Draco was being pecked and prodded by five birds.

Harry wanted to laugh...it was funny; immature, but funny...but the humour was dimmed by the fact that Draco had no wand and didn't seem to know how to defend himself.

Finally, Draco stopped and focused, despite the birds that had moved to the bare skin at his hands and neck, avoiding his face only by Harry's design. A torrent of water fell from the air a few feet above Draco's head, drenching the birds but avoiding Draco entirely. The birds vanished under the water spell.

"Wow, Draco, I'm impressed..."

Draco strode forward, the space between them a fond memory. He grabbed Harry by the throat, bringing their faces close enough to...well, close enough.

"Next time, Potter, a little warning would be nice," he hissed.

Harry didn't respond except to say, "Deprimo." He smirked as an intense wind battered Draco about, whipping his hair and robes around him. Draco's grip on Harry weakened and the wind slammed him onto his back. Harry could hear him struggling for breath.

"I'm saying the spells out loud," Harry said, standing over Draco. "That's warning enough."

Draco glared up at him...Harry could see the exact moment he stopped thinking of humiliation and started thinking of revenge. His eyes narrowed and Harry could see him forming a spell in his mind.

The only warning Harry had was a slight breeze...he looked down and saw that his robes were unbuttoned, from neck to hem, gaping open so that his red boxer-briefs were on display.

Harry laughed at the weakness of the spell...though it wasn't lost on him that he'd used a lesser version of the same spell on Draco's shirt during their contest in the game room...but Draco wasn't finished. The back of Harry's robes flew up and over his face, tangling him. He couldn't see...without using magic, Harry got himself free and straightened his robes. Draco was standing now, menace in his pale grey eyes.

Using the reverse of the spell Draco had, Harry buttoned his robes...leaving a few at the top and some at the bottom opened for more freedom of movement.

Deciding to fight clothing-removal curse with clothing-removal curse, Harry held his hand aloft and said, "Diffindo!"

Draco's robes sagged across his body, Harry's spell having shredded them. Harry could see Draco's pale skin through the gaps. Harry walked forward, wanting to suggest Draco try offensive spells, when Draco threw up his hand. His chest was heaving, his cheeks bright red.

Obviously outraged at what had been done to his no doubt expensive clothing, Draco put the force of his frustration behind his next spell. Harry guessed it to be the Impediment Curse, for he was forced to stop in his tracks.

"That's very good, Draco," Harry said honestly. Draco was progressing leaps and bounds beyond what Harry had expected from him during their first intense session.

Draco looked surprised at the praise, almost like he'd forgotten it was a lesson and not a real duel. He nodded his acceptance of Harry's praise, letting his guard down...

...Harry, of course, took advantage.

"Immobilus, " Harry said, smirking in victory. Draco wouldn't be able to counter it without a wand, nor would he be able to free himself.

Draco went stiff but managed to stay on his feet. There was a panic in his eyes that didn't quite match the spell. Harry didn't understand. He walked closer, making sure Draco hadn't been hurt, but there was nothing visibly wrong with him except that he looked frightened. Terrified, even.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, forgetting that Draco couldn't answer. "It's just an Immobilisation spell, Draco, calm down...you'll hurt yourself."

Harry had never seen anyone struggle without moving, but Draco was doing just that. Deciding it was enough, Harry lifted the spell...as soon as he did, he realised why Draco had seemed so scared.

The image of Draco, completely still, on his study floor, frozen by his own wards... The only memory that paralleled its horror was Draco, completely still, on a bathroom floor. "Draco, I'm sorry, I didn't think..."

Draco was gasping in his breath, clutching his stomach as he bent over.

Uncertain what to do, Harry rubbed Draco's back for all of three seconds before Draco lifted his head and glared at him through shining eyes.

"Don't touch me."

Harry bit his lip, shamed. "I really didn't mean to..."

"Of course you meant to." Draco rose, looking for all the world like he'd simply stepped through a Floo a little too abruptly, not had a horrible memory forced upon him. "Shall we continue?" Without waiting for a response, as Harry supposed was fair, Draco lifted his arm at Harry.

Nothing happened, no spell was cast.

Draco tensed and his eyes turned to slits. Harry could tell he was trying again. His lips bared...trying again. He threw his hand out violently...another try, and another. Again and again. Nothing was working for him.

"It's okay, we'll just take a break," Harry said, trying to sound soothing.

"I don't want to take a fucking break!" Draco shrieked. He tried one more spell, seemed to really be throwing his entire being into it, but Harry was unaffected. Draco made a sound of disgust and stomped away.

Harry watched him go, wearing his torn clothing like he couldn't have cared less that his arse was showing through a rip in the back. Draco wore briefs, Harry noted, watching until he disappeared into the manor. Harry had no idea why Draco's magic had come to an abrupt halt, but he had to find out. Draco would never beat him unless he couldn't control it at all times. For the second time that day, Harry wondered what would happen if Draco never beat him.

*

When Draco finally came out of his room, Harry was waiting.

After the duel, Harry hadn't found Draco anywhere. Even Peachy didn't give him a clue. He couldn't get into Draco's bedroom, so he had to assume Draco was holed up inside. He knew Draco would have to leave eventually...though after about seven hours he began to doubt that. Draco had to have an en suite bathroom and Peachy would be more than happy to bring food up for him. He could probably exist there forever.

However, the door finally opened, setting off a flashing light in front of Harry's face, a spell he'd concocted for just such an occasion (though he usually used it to tell him when his tea was ready).

Harry jumped up from his desk where he'd been writing down the details of the duel and ran to the hallway.

"Draco!" Harry said, stopping him mid-step.

Without turning, Draco said, "What is it, Potter?"

"I just want to talk about the lesson. You know it's important."

Draco sighed. "Fine. Come with me to the kitchen. I'm famished." With that, he walked off, forcing Harry to follow him just as he'd forced Draco to follow him to the duel.

Once in the kitchen, Harry watched in silence as Draco made himself a sandwich. It was such a simple, ordinary thing to eat that Harry had to smile. It was just good to know that Draco ate sandwiches for some reason.

Draco sat on a high stool at the island, but Harry didn't take a seat. He didn't want to encroach in case Draco was still pissed.

"We need to talk about your magic," Harry started, "but I also want to apologise for using Immobilus against you. I should have realised..."

"I don't expect you to cater to me," Draco said. He sounded cool but there was something about his posture, the way he held himself, that made Harry think the spell had affected him more than he was willing to let on.

"And I won't," Harry agreed. "But it was stupid to use that. It would be like using Sectumsempra. It has a history for both of us, so of course it shouldn't be used." Immobilus carried bad memories for Harry, as well. There was no satisfaction in seeing Draco helpless like that.

Draco looked guilty, which wasn't something Harry had expected to see.

Then it dawned on him. "Oh, my god, you tried to use Secumsempra on me, didn't you?"

"Not at first!" Draco pushed his plate away, half a sandwich remaining. He looked queasy. "But when nothing else was working..."

Tamping down the horror that rose in him at the fact that they would always hurt each other that way, Harry said, "What spells did you try first?"

Draco sighed. "Incarcerous. Locomotor. Obscuro. Petrificus Totalus. Stupefy. Confrigo. And Defodio. Then Sectumsempra. Then..." Draco coughed and looked away. "Imperio."

Harry leaned against a wall, dumbfounded. Draco certainly wasn't messing around. If any of the spells had worked, Harry would have been in trouble. And an Unforgivable?

"Before you say anything, Potter, just listen. I knew they weren't going to work."

"How did you know?" Harry said, swallowing hard.

"I tried a couple offensive spells first. After you attacked me birds..." Draco gave Harry a look that said, really, Potter? Birds? "...I tried Serpensortia. When you tore my favourite robes, I tried Rictusempra. " Draco sighed and looking down at his hands, folded on the marble countertop. "Nothing worked. I can't use offensive spells against you. I used the others out of desperation, knowing they wouldn't work."

"You couldn't have known for sure," Harry said, still feeling short of breath at how close he'd come to his death at Draco's hands.

Draco nodded. "I did. I could feel it in me. When I cast the spells that landed, I could feel my magic inside me, warm and familiar and there. When I try a spell with the intent to hurt you, I feel nothing."

Harry had an idea. He drew his wand from his robes pocket and held it in a tight grip.

Draco seemed to think it was a threat, and stiffened, astonished eyes meeting Harry's.

"I just want to try something," Harry explained. "Try to disarm me. Use Expelliarmus. "

Draco looked at Harry for a long moment before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes and focused on the spell, Harry felt his wand twitch in his hand. He gave Draco a nod of encouragement, and Draco tried again. More than a twitch this time, Harry's wand slid two inches, almost escaping his grasp altogether.

"Again," Harry said, excited. Once more Draco focused, and, Harry's wand went flying across the room, skittering over the marble floor before smacking into a wall.

A laugh, clear and unselfconscious, met Harry's ears. Harry looked at Draco and couldn't help but laugh himself. It had worked! So maybe Draco couldn't do offensive spells...yet...but he could disarm Harry and that was worth celebrating.

"I disarmed the great Harry Potter," Draco bragged, but it wasn't arrogant, it was teasing, his smile wide and only a touch smug. He held out his hand and the wand flew to him.

Draco held out the wand and Harry took it. "You can do Summoning spells now," he said, a note of awe in his voice.

Draco nodded, gleeful. Then his features turned down. "But no offensive spells," he lamented, obviously eager to do damage to Harry.

"Not yet," Harry said. In a sterner voice, he continued, "And no more fucking Unforgivables, Draco. I mean it. If you manage to follow through with one, you'll be arrested. I'm a bleeding Auror, for Merlin's sake."

Draco looked chagrined. "You're right. Next time I won't get caught." He chuckled.

Fed up, Harry lunged at Draco, eager to teach him a lesson, but Draco skittered away from his grasp and then Harry's wand went flying away again, landing in the same place.

"Handy trick, that," Draco said. He brushed past Harry, who was too shocked to stop him, and went back upstairs. "Good night, Potter," he called, voice full with self-congratulation.

Harry Accio'd his wand back and sat down at the island. He grabbed Draco's sandwich and finished it...no sense in it going to waste. He'd have to keep a better grip on his wand, because he had the feeling Draco wasn't going to sparing when it came to his wandless magic.