Teamwork

Notes: Thanks to calanthe_fics for beta work and Britpicking.

6 -- Offers

In the morning, the defense waived further testimony on Lucius Malfoy, and he was found guilty of treason and three counts of using an Unforgiveable curse. The attempted murder charge was dismissed. Draco gripped Harry's hand so tightly that Harry wondered if his bones would break. Draco's hold slowly loosened as the trial moved on to Talbot, but Harry wasn't sure if that was through acceptance or tedium.

While the new defendant spoke, there was nothing to do but listen. Harry had no personal knowledge of Talbot, so he didn't even have indignation to bring him energy. The man insisted that he had been coerced through threats against his family, and Harry found himself wondering if that was true, at least in part. Certainly Voldemort would do such a thing, but would anyone who needed that level of coercion be summoned by him directly, to something like an initiation? Harry remembered Draco, when they first spotted Bellatrix, referring to the Death Eaters as an 'inner circle'. Talbot talked about Lucius casting the portkey trace -- they certainly had no compunction about throwing him to the wolves now -- and Harry mentally placed the question of Death Eater status on his list of things to ask Snape about in September.

Whether or not Talbot was telling the truth, his testimony turned Harry's thoughts to a related problem. Even if he didn't stay with the Weasleys after his birthday, they could still be attacked to flush him out. On the other hand, that had always been true, hadn't it? Visiting the Weasleys would give Voldemort a more concrete reason to attack them; it made sense to stay away. And leaving the Dursleys should keep them safe -- certainly Voldemort would know that he didn't love them, wouldn't he? And Voldemort -- Tom Riddle -- had hated his own Muggle relatives, so there, at least, he should not invent affection where it didn't exist.

Harry wondered if there was anyone he could stay with whom Voldemort wouldn't suspect. An older friend, perhaps? The problem was that he hadn't known most of the older students well enough to trust them with his life. Oliver, for example, was only his former Quidditch captain; Harry didn't even know if he was a pureblood or not, much less his thoughts on blood purity off the pitch. The only ones he could count on -- mostly -- were the twins. His thoughts spiraled down through a cataloguing of prospective hosts. It was only when he heard Percy's voice that he realized that they had reached the end of the morning session.

"My room?" he whispered to Draco, and Draco nodded. But when they reached the floor, that plan was thwarted. Dumbledore was waiting for them.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter," he greeted them cordially. "Please join me for luncheon. We have matters to discuss."

The old wizard led them to the Floo and sent Auror Tonks ahead. After a few seconds, he offered the Floo powder to Draco. "Dunhorse Cottage," he said, and Draco nodded.

"Harry?" Draco prompted, rather than tossing the powder on the grate. Harry nodded and took some as well. If Dumbledore was trying to separate them, it wouldn't work. He tossed the powder down immediately.

"Dunhorse Cottage!"

He stumbled out into the low-ceilinged kitchen of an old farmhouse. The beams over the stove were black with the smoke of centuries, and the mingled scent of stone and cooking was solid and warm. By the window, Tonks was talking with an older woman. They looked over at Harry's arrival, and Tonks waved. Draco stepped through behind Harry. Immediately, he started over to the window, snagging Harry's arm in passing. Harry suspected that he had wanted to look outside, not to socialize, but the view was of a walled garden that could have been anywhere.

Before Harry could say anything, Dumbledore arrived.

"Ah, Petra! Thank you for hosting us."

"My pleasure, Professor Dumbledore," the woman answered, dropping a slight curtsey. "Lunch is on the table, with tea and pumpkin juice. Shall Miss Tonks and I leave you to your meal?"

"That would be welcome, Petra. If you don't mind, Nymphadora?"

Auror Tonks hesitated, but then gave a brief nod. "Under the circumstances, I could wait in the next room."

"But--" Draco protested. Dumbledore motioned him to silence.

"She knows this place and our hostess, Mr. Malfoy, and rightly believes that I can keep you safe here."

"And I did check for anomalies," the Auror added. "Don't think I'm just taking their word for it. This place is even blocked against Apparation, in or out. Oh, and sir?" She grinned cheekily at Dumbledore. "You'll understand if I lock the Floo. Kingsley would expect it of me."

A flick of her wand towards the grate, and she left.

Once they were alone, Dumbledore sat at the table, checked the teapot, tsked, and then gestured to the platter of sandwiches.

"Please help yourselves," he urged. "I vouch for anything Petra made to be both safe and tasty. Now. I thought both of you might want to know how we expect the week to progress. Each guilty verdict makes our further cases easier, as you might imagine. Harry, unless something unexpected happens, I don't believe that we will need you to testify again." The old wizard checked the tea a second time, and found it ready to pour. He filled Harry's cup, and then Draco's, while Harry fidgeted impatiently. "Draco, you may take this afternoon off. However, since you can speak of the defendants' visits to your father, we will need you to stay for the remainder of the trial. After that, I believe you have some post-trial legalities to attend to?"

Draco nodded. "Yes. I'd like to retain my inheritance -- what the Wizengamot doesn't take as 'reparations'. Under the circumstances, Father's move to disinherit me is suspect, and my solicitor believes we can have it overturned, but I will need to speak to a few people in person, at best."

"Yes, of course." As if contemplating the matter, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard. "I should tell you, my boy, that Severus has expressed some concern about your safety. At his behest, I have spoken to the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and I have persuaded her to extend your Auror protection for a week past the end of the trial, or until you return to Hogwarts, if that is earlier. I do not think you need worry about your next departure -- by then, your potential attackers will no doubt have moved on to more recent adversaries."

"About returning to Hogwarts," Harry advanced. "Could I come back there too? Rather than spending more time at the Dursleys'? I don't want to endanger the Weasleys, but the school is safe, and--"

Dumbledore held up a hand, and Harry, not without resentment, stopped.

"Your aunt's house is still the safest place for you, Harry, if just for a little longer. I don't want to sacrifice that protection before we absolutely must."

"I think waiting until the last minute--"

"Harry. No." Dumbledore sighed. "I am sorry, but no."

After lunch, Dumbledore returned to the trial, and Tonks escorted Harry and Draco back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"I'm on until six," she said. "Is that to be active duty, or sitting in the hall duty?"

Harry glanced at Draco before looking back at her. "We need to talk privately," he said. "My room. After that, I think we'll want an escort in Diagon Alley."

Draco's eyebrows came up. "Will we? I suppose I'll see." He nodded at the Auror. "His room, then. I'm afraid you'll need to wait outside."

"I know excellent cushioning charms," she said archly. "An unsung specialty of field Aurors."

"So," Harry said, once the door was shut and the privacy charms cast. "Hogwarts is out. But I have an idea."

His eyebrows rising, Draco leaned back against the bed. "Do tell."

"The twins--"

"Absolutely not. Don't you think people will look for you--"

"But the new place!" Harry interrupted excitedly. "That shop they want to rent! It won't be ready to use yet. They'd still ward it though, right? Because they'd want to protect their secrets and the things that they're moving in, and it would be perfectly normal for them to come by at strange hours with takeaway and odd bundles--"

Draco's eyes lit up. "Now that could work. Wait a moment. Let me think." He paced back and forth, while Harry took his place at the bed. Finally, Draco stopped. "All right. Don't ask them directly, though. I said I was going to negotiate this deal for you, and I will. Wait until I've given them terms they can't quite accept, and then you come in and say you want to hide there for August, and I'll ease up on something else to compensate. If it's part of the contract, even vaguely, we can bind them to secrecy."

"Contract?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You were planning to do this on verbal agreement and a handshake?" He sighed. "Oh dear. You were."

When they told Auror Tonks that they wanted an escort down to Fred and George's flat, and then privacy once they were there, she cheerfully shook her head. "I can stay out of earshot," she said, "but I need to have you in sight."

"You left us at lunch time."

"With Albus Dumbledore," she said firmly. "In a known and warded house. Sorry, but this wouldn't be the same."

Harry wasn't about to discuss his summer plans in front of her. In the end, he ended up writing to the twins and requesting that they come to Draco's room at the Leaky Cauldron within the hour.

Fred and George showed up within minutes. George looked around the room and his eyes narrowed. "Where's the fire, Harry?"

"Dumbledore may send me home today. I needed to talk to you before that."

The twins still looked put out. Draco stepped forward. "I understand you were interested in estate capital?"

"Estate..."

"Yes."

"Harry?"

Before Harry could formulate an answer, Draco had stepped in front of him. "Since my lover has a highly generous nature and several appallingly obvious weaknesses, and the two of you are capable of getting people to pay for sweets that make them break out in spots and vomit, I will be handling the negotiations. Harry, please stay out of the way."

Harry, much to the distress of the twins, nodded.

"Harry!"

"What has he done to you?"

"You can't be leaving us--"

"-- to a Slytherin."

Harry smiled. "As the Slytherin, I think this is more his sort of job than mine. Don't mind me; I have some summer assignments to work on." With that, he sat down in the armchair to peruse Draco's Charms text. The first time one of the twins appealed to him, he looked up, but let Draco wave him off. After that, he ignored them. It was surprisingly amusing.

Finally, it was Draco who said his name, and Harry put down the book and walked over. Fred was looking mutinous and George worried.

"Having trouble?" he asked.

"If we take his terms, you'll own more of the shop than we will!" Fred exploded.

"Well, he has provided most of the capital, so far," Draco said, as if this were eminently reasonable.

"And they've provided all the research and ideas," Harry objected mildly. "I'm not sure I'm due a third, Draco."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Which is why you should not negotiate the price of a polishing charm, never mind a business contract."

"Harry, really! We can't afford what he's asking."

"You'd be stuck supporting us for years."

"We can't ask Mum to, you know."

Both twins had turned beseechingly towards him; behind them, Harry caught Draco's amused look. "Okay," he said amiably. "Let me look at the terms so far."

The contract as Draco had drawn it up wasn't too bad, until he got to the item that gave him sole ownership of the property, and laid out a high rent -- optionally payable in increased shares -- for any month that shop profits dropped below 15%. While his finger rested under that item, Draco's nails pressed significantly into his back.

"Draco, this bit seems unreasonable."

"Thank you, Harry!" George exclaimed.

"Because it is!" Fred added.

"We could lower the percentage," Draco said doubtfully.

"No, you're missing the point," Harry protested. "I don't want to be the owner of record. That's just trouble. Actually ... I have an alternative proposal."

"Harry...." Draco warned.

"No, listen. You can argue it with me if you like, but I want you all to hear this."

"If you must. We did start with a secrecy binding for the negotiations."

Harry had heard them, but he was grateful that Draco would point it out.

"Good. Here it is, then," Harry said. "Much more than all this extra money, I would like a secure and secret place to stay from a few days before my birthday until school opens in September. This would be perfect. I'm willing to strike this item altogether in return for living -- unofficially -- in the shop during that time, with the two of you bringing me food when needed and keeping my location absolutely secret -- including from Dumbledore and members of your family, no matter how worried they might be."

"I'm not sure it's of comparable value," Draco objected.

"Draco, Voldemort is trying to kill me. It's comparable. Fred? George?"

The twins exchanged a glance, and then nodded.

"We knew you'd be reasonable, Harry."

"Once we could get your attention."

"We'd have to get the shop ready while you were there, though."

"I'm counting on that to make it look natural," Harry said. "I'll even help. Just make sure the loo works, as soon as possible. Draco, draw up the contract, and we'll all sign it."

"Now?" the twins asked together.

"You want to get your money before Dumbledore sends me back to the Dursleys' right? If we do it now, we can go down to Gringotts while Draco's bodyguard is still on duty."

Another, longer look passed between the twins, but they agreed. Draco set about preparing the contract.

"I don't know how I'll survive six weeks without you," Draco murmured, as he brushed sweaty hair back from Harry's brow. After leaving the twins outside Gringotts, Harry and Draco -- with Draco's Auror guard -- had returned to Draco's room, where Draco had sent Auror Tonks away for an hour, and without delay, led Harry to bed.

"Is it six?" Harry had to stop and calculate the days. It was hard to keep track of weeks without a calendar.

"More. Seven weeks from Monday last."

"Damn. And there'll be no way to visit; you can't leave Hogwarts and I can't go there." Harry propped himself up on one elbow. "Maybe they won't send me back right away?"

"You don't believe that."

"No. Not really."

Draco sighed, but this time it was more theatrical. "Back to my lonely existence at a deserted school!"

"Better than sharing a three-bedroom house with people who hate you," Harry said darkly.

"Tedious, though," Draco protested. "Even Severus isn't always there, and regardless, he can't abide the quiris, so I've taken a room up the corridor from his."

"The quiris, right." Harry hadn't given the creatures any more thought. They might not be any trouble at all, he reflected. After all, he didn't plan to do any more Dark Arts. But there was still the matter of what he was going to do about Voldemort, and there were so many people to protect. He knew there was nothing he wouldn't do, if it came down to a question of Draco's life. After all, Lucius Malfoy was right, in a way. He had seduced Draco away from his family and into danger. What Lucius hadn't seemed to understand was how little it had taken to do that.

"So," he asked, trying to sound merely curious, "how long is 'not permanent'? You never said."

"Unclear," Draco answered. "Madam Horsyr expects to be back in a few weeks, but she may not be able to take them with her at that time, either. If so, I could have them for several months more. Also, if this arrangement works, I've said I might take them again later." He laughed at the expression on Harry's face. "Really, now! They're a Potter creation; you ought to be proud to be reunited with them."

"They've addled your brains."

Draco shrugged gracefully. "Possibly. They do decrease my options in some ways, but they expand them in others -- I doubt there is any other way I would have the headmaster's trust -- and that is arguably of more current value than the option of using Dark Arts." He shrugged. "Though I rather miss sitting with Severus in the evenings, even if we hardly said a word to each other.

"Why didn't you?"

"He doesn't like frivolous conversation."

"But the quiris can't answer."

Draco nodded, but didn't say anything. Harry sighed. "You're more social than I am. I wouldn't mind as much."

"I don't know why I do. I was often alone during the summer, but it was different in my home and my gardens." Harry could see a twitch at the side of Draco's jaw. "I hope I'm back in Slytherin in September."

"Why wouldn't you be?"

"Because I'm a traitor, of course," Draco said flatly. "For understandable reasons, perhaps, but I still am."

"Draco! You are not."

"Traitor," Draco recited, "one who betrays a cause."

"But it implies faking loyalty to do people in," Harry objected, "and I think it's usually used for countries, and anyway, you have a right to change your mind, and to tell the truth about being in danger."

"I know I do," Draco answered, but his head was too high, and his face too empty. "I just don't know if Pansy still wants to have dinner with me. She never replied about rescheduling. And I want to go back to my dormitory, but I don't want to be murdered in my sleep."

"I'll sneak in and protect you; how's that?" Harry suggested.

"Mm." Draco's coolness began to recede. "Perhaps you should lie on top of me to shield me from attacks."

"As long as you don't expect me to stay still!" Harry answered with a laugh.

They had just begun to kiss, and Draco was rocking suggestively against Harry, when they heard a knock on the door.

"Damnation," Draco muttered. Grabbing his wand, he dropped the silencing charm that he had put in place hours ago. "What is it?"

"Professor Dumbledore is here to see you," Auror Tonks called. "He seems to be genuine. Professor Snape is with him."

After a panicked glance at each other, Harry and Draco jumped out of bed and began scrabbling for clothes. "Just a minute," Draco called. Their garments were confusingly intermixed, and Harry couldn't find his shirt. When Draco straightened the bedclothes, it fell clear of them. As soon as they were both presentable, Draco patted down his hair, cast an air freshening charm, and walked over to the door.

"Hello, Sir," Draco said brightly. "Please come in. Severus," he added, with a polite nod of greeting.

Harry leaned back against the table and crossed his arms over his chest. He had an idea what was coming.

Snape looked around the room with notable suspicion, but Dumbledore, in contrast, had a slightly questioning air, which Draco ignored.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" he asked blandly.

"As it happens," Dumbledore replied, "I was looking for Harry, but it is probably for the best that you were together. Harry, Professor Snape expressed a willingness to escort you home."

"To the Dursleys', you mean."

"Do not be difficult, Potter," Snape snapped. "Whether you like it or not, it is your home, and it is my time that you are wasting with this pointless defiance. You will be packed in ten minutes."

Professor Dumbledore shook his head slightly, but did nothing to intervene. Harry got the impression that he would gladly have used another ten minutes of Professor Snape's time to get to the point gently.

"Fine," he said sullenly. "Come on, Draco."

With a bland smile, Draco gestured his guests back to the door. "If you don't mind...? We will meet you at Harry's room in ten minutes."

"Excellent," Dumbledore replied, as if everyone had been cheerful about the arrangements. In the hallway, he briefly laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I appreciate your maturity and cooperation, Harry. I know that your Aunt's house is not your first choice of dwelling place."

Harry nodded silently, afraid of how his voice would sound if he spoke. He knew that the praise would have made him feel guilty, even six months ago. He now realized that it was intended to influence him to cooperate, and instead of guilt, he just felt anger, and a surge of satisfaction at the escape he had planned.

Draco followed Harry into his room and watched while Harry changed back into his jeans, and then gathered things from chairs and the floor and threw them hodge-podge into his trunk.

"Oh, stop that!" Draco said finally, and with a wave of his wand sent everything flying back out of the trunk and onto the bed.

"Draco!"

"Use a spell."

"I'm underage still, remember? I try to reserve magic for when I need it."

"Oh." Draco smirked. "Not at school, you don't."

"Right. And I don't think twice in a fight."

Draco nodded. "All right. Colligio!"

He gestured at the things on Harry's bed and then at the trunk. Books settled at the bottom, clothes folded themselves neatly and formed piles on top, and miscellanea clustered on top of the clothes.

"Thanks," Harry said. "I'll have to try that in a few weeks."

"It helps if you've gathered everything in one spot," Draco said. "Otherwise, the charm may try to pack things you don't want. And the first time I tried it, I was too forceful, and it packed the bedclothes as well as everything on the bed."

They looked at the door.

"Well," Harry said lamely, "This is it, I guess."

"Yeah." A light pink crept up Draco's cheeks. "Thank you, Harry. For being here, I mean. For the things that weren't fun."

Harry bit his lip. "Any time. Look, don't worry about Pansy, okay? She'll get over it, or if she doesn't, she isn't really a friend. That shouldn't depend on you doing what she wants in politics."

"You want me to share your political outlook."

"Yes," Harry said stubbornly, "and we fought, and I understand fighting, but I was willing to go on with you even if you didn't."

Draco looked absently past him, at the light of the window. "I know you were under a lot of pressure from your friends not to."

"Yes."

"She's not as good with that. Status among her friends is very important to her."

"You said Buls-- Millicent was a neutral."

"Millicent isn't a usual companion for her, though. That's why it was significant that they approached me together. She spends much more time with Daphne and Cassandra."

"Cassandra?"

" Cassandra Vere. She's a year younger than us. Dennis Avery is her mother's cousin."

Harry hadn't ever thought about Death Eater relatives who might not share a name with the ones he knew. "Does Avery have any kids in school?"

"Not anymore. Both of them are older than us. I think one is work--"

There was a sharp rap at the door. "Time's up, Potter."

"One moment!" Draco called back, as Harry grabbed him. "Fuck!" he whispered. "We forgot a silencing charm!"

"Too late now," Harry said, and pushed into a kiss. They kissed fiercely until a voice outside the door began to count.

"Ten. Nine. Eight--"

"Hell," Harry growled. "I'll write, I promise. It'll be okay."

"Five--"

"All right!" Harry shouted, and opened the door. "Honestly! Can't we say goodbye?"

"You have had ten minutes to do that."

"I had to pack!"

Draco smirked. "He was doing it by hand, Sir. Since he is underage."

Snape glared at Harry. "What a curious time to begin obeying rules, Potter."

Harry reddened. "It's not like I knew any packing charms anyway."

"But you are ready now?"

Harry looked over at the trunk. After a moment's scan of the room and one look under the bed, he got back to his feet and nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"Let's go, then." Snape nodded at Draco. "Leave the room first. The locking charms require that."

"As you wish, sir." With a smart bow to both of them, Draco left the room, closing the door behind him. To Harry's surprise, Snape then gripped his arm as if about to drag him off somewhere.

"Sir?"

"I will apparate both of us. Take hold of your trunk."

Harry was glad he had apparated with Remus and Sirius previously. He didn't stumble, but he still felt a little queasy as he appeared with Snape behind the rubbish bins at the Dursleys'. They stepped out from behind the wall just as Vernon's bellow of "What was THAT?" roared out through the open dining room window. Snape looked questioningly at Harry.

"My uncle," Harry murmured. "So, um, thanks for the lift, but I can take it from here." He hefted the heavy trunk and started to walk towards the door. To his surprise, Snape continued to walk with him.

"Look," Harry puffed, "Uncle Vernon doesn't like strangers. Especially our kind. Or even, you know, Muggles that dress weird."

"How unfortunate for him."

Harry grinned at the cold humor. "I don't much care if it's bad for his heart, Professor. I'd just rather he didn't take it out on me when you leave. And you are dressed weird."

"Am I?" Snape asked coolly. "The Muggles won't notice. I am surprised that you do."

They had stopped on the top step before the front door. Harry looked over at his professor. He could still see Snape as he knew he was -- cleaner than usual, and in formal robes, with his hair pulled back in a tie -- but overlaid on that was Snape in an impeccable black suit, over a silver-grey shirt.

Harry's eyes widened. "Excellent, Sir!"

"But you can still perceive the robes?"

Harry nodded. "I can see the suit if I look, though."

"Absurdly strong-willed," Snape muttered, but before he could continue, the door opened.

"Who's skulking out on my--" Vernon began, and then froze. His face twisted into a scowl as he recognized Harry. "Oh, you. Back already, is it?" Without waiting for an answer he turned to Snape. "I'll take him from here," he said. "Get inside, boy, before the neighbors see you."

Snape stepped smoothly forward, blocking Harry from entering the door.

"I am afraid," he said to Uncle Vernon, "that I must confer with young Mr. Potter before I leave."

Vernon eyed Snape, clearly weighing the expensive-looking suit against the man's association with his nephew. "And who are you?" he snarled.

"I am one of Harry's professors, and the Head of Slytherin House."

"Oh, no, you don't!" Vernon roared, his face growing red with anger. "I don't allow your sort in my home. This is a decent house, you know, and I won't have my wife and son exposed to more abnormal freaks from That School. Bad enough that we have to house the boy --"

Vernon silenced suddenly. His mouth kept moving, but no sound came out. With a look of terror, he fell back, and Snape stepped inside, pulling Harry after him.

"I do not recall saying that you had a choice."

"Vernon?" came Petunia's high voice. "Who's there?" He head appeared around the wall, and her eyes widened.

"Your nephew's escort," Snape said coldly. "We will go to his room. If you do not complain or interfere, I may restore your husband's voice before I depart."

"Okay," Harry said, as the door closed behind them. "Here's my room. Why are you here?"

Snape looked around at the nearly empty space, but did not comment on it. "I wished to talk to you," he said baldly. "Why else would I arrange to be the person who escorted you home?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"Have you heard that Draco Malfoy will be keeping the Quiris?" Snape asked.

"Two of them."

"Two too many. You realize the intent?"

"Dumbledore will know if Draco practices any Dark Arts, and he expects to know if I do."

"Precisely."

Harry looked incredulously back at the scowling potions master. "You can't think you needed to come here to tell me that."

"No." Snape raised his eyebrows. "I came to ask if there was anything you wished to learn before the first of August."

Harry stared. "Oh," he managed finally.

"You don't have much time," Snape pointed out.

Harry nodded absently while counting in his head. He had only a fortnight, and he expected to be hiding for some of that. "What could you teach me?"

"What do you need to know?" Snape countered. "There are thousands of spells that will never be mentioned to you at school. The Praetermissius Charm is one you would find useful. You cast it on yourself to go unnoticed. It does not make you invisible, and will not guard you against people who are seeking you, specifically, but someone who sees you pass will not notice you are Harry Potter. It is good for hiding in crowds."

Harry swallowed. He could travel, walk through Diagon Alley, sit anywhere at school.... "Don't teach me that," he said.

"Oh?"

"I would never stop using it. I would use it to go to dinner at school. I would use it to walk into the Leaky Cauldron. I would spend the rest of my life hiding."

"I see." Snape looked curiously at him. "How unlike your father."

"Well, he probably had the option of not being famous. What else?"

"There are many spells which block off or enhance feelings in yourself or others -- jealousy, anxiety, recklessness, caution -- almost anything but hatred or love."

"I've heard of love spells."

"A misnomer. Such spells cause or enhance lust, devotion, sentimentality, or receptivity. They do not cause real love."

"Why would I want to affect my own feelings?"

"It is less common, but I have, for example, used immisericors on myself when I thought I might be tempted to show mercy at a time when I must not. In such a case, you need to remember to use a compound incantation that ends the spell at some preset time or condition."

"Is the Killing Curse the only one that kills, or is there one that would get me in less trouble?"

Snape smiled thinly. "It is the only one that kills without a cause. There are many spells to do things that will cause death."

"Like burning someone's bones."

"Yes."

"Anything more subtle? Could I cause a severe stroke?"

"A ... what?"

"A rupture of blood vessels in the brain. Or heart failure. Or failure of some other vital organ or function, like breathing."

"All of those. None kill immediately, however, and all can be blocked, deflected, and countered. A trained Auror could also detect all as magically induced."

"Huhn." Harry sat back and tried to think. Morals aside, what would be the most effective way to destroy Lord Voldemort? The problem was, he realized, that he had no idea. He didn't even know if he could. Naturally, there were hundreds of ways he could fight the Death Eaters, with or without Dark Arts, but he had no idea what, if anything, would work against Voldemort. Choosing Darker weapons would not necessarily make him more successful.

"Is there a spell to find a person's weaknesses?"

Snape's eyebrows shot up. "There, you are talking about Divination, which is not one of my strengths."

"Well, don't send me to Trelawny. She's useless."

"Predicting the future is unreliable from anyone, but seeing that which is present and hidden is another matter. I could guide you to someone of more skill."

"Someone who won't betray me?" Harry asked warningly.

"Yes, at least not willingly. Of course, learning Voldemort's weaknesses will be difficult. Many people have tried. At minimum, you need some bit of him."

Harry nearly laughed. "Will my blood do?"

Snape hissed in surprise. "Oh yes." His eyes gleamed. "That would do indeed! But then the Seer can find your weaknesses, as well."

"I suppose I need to risk it."

Snape hesitated, but rather than the caution that Harry had expected, he extended another warning. "By using blood as a component, you will make the divination legally Dark Arts. There is some ... thaumaturgical basis for that, as well. You should expect to compensate the Seer well for the risk. And you may wish to keep it from the Weasleys -- even yours."

Harry looked intently at Severus Snape. "And any other training from Draco."

Snape raised his eyebrows. "Would you hide such a matter from your paramour?"

"I don't know. I mean, I think I'll probably tell him when we're together. But for now, you did not make me this offer, and I certainly did not consider it. Anything further that may happen therefore did not. Agreed?"

"I am not completely certain I should be doing this," Snape confessed. He nodded. "However, that only leads me to agree with you. This did not happen, so there is no reason to mention it to Draco."

"I will tell him about the divination, if it is useful, but I'll tell you beforehand what I plan to say, so that our stories agree."

Snape's mouth twisted. "Forewarning would be appreciated, this time."