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A Brother to Basilisks	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 85173 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 15
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Chapter Seventeen—Flameburst
            “This is the best Christmas ever,” said Harry, and flung himself down in the middle of the paper from the huge pile of presents and rolled in it.
            Dash moved slowly out of the way, his tail tapping the floor in what looked like irritation, although his thoughts flowing through Harry’s head were almost too calm. If you wish to call gifts that smell odd and do nothing interesting the best.
            Harry rolled over on his stomach and laughed. He was doing that a lot lately, and it made Sirius, who was currently in the kitchen fixing their Christmas dinner, laugh back when he heard it. He chuckled now, and Harry smiled. It was nice to be here with someone who wanted to spend time with him and wasn’t lecturing him about Slytherins or snakes or Gryffindors. Sure, Sirius had gone through that period, but he was over it now, Harry thought. “Sirius got you mice. You can’t complain about him after that.”
            “What was that, pup?” Sirius called out from the kitchen. “I didn’t hear you.”
            Harry closed his eyes as another glow of warmth and happiness traveled through him. He was with someone who not only wanted him, they gave him a nickname. Harry had always secretly envied Dudley that, although he hadn’t envied the nickname “Dudders” itself. He simply wanted to know what it was like to get called that way, to be so casual around an adult that they didn’t call you by your formal name all the time.
            “Just talking to Dash,” he said, and picked up Dash, who was flowing in the direction of the stairs. After a moment, Dash ceased his attempt to struggle, which wasn’t spirited anyway, and tolerated Harry carrying him in the direction of the kitchen. “He said that the gifts you got me weren’t interesting, and I pointed out that you got him gifts that were more interesting to him.” He was trying to speak at least part of the conversations he had with Dash aloud to Sirius. He thought Sirius would get used to the fact that he had both Parseltongue and a mental bond more quickly that way.
            I don’t see why you think that, said Dash, and wrapped his tail firmly around Harry’s shoulders and neck. Harry rolled his eyes. He knew why Dash was doing that. The first time Sirius had seen it happen, he’d yelled that the basilisk was trying to strangle his godson. He hates me.
            “He does not,” Harry snapped aloud, and then he was in the kitchen with Sirius, who was covering the table with their dinner. Harry opened his mouth and discovered that no sound would come out.
            He had assumed, without thinking about, that there would be some fruit and some meat and some of the dishes like the ones the Hogwarts house-elves made for the Christmas feast there. Instead, there was just—sweets. Piled mounds of chocolates from Honeydukes jostled against sweet iced cakes. There was a chocolate fountain in the center of the table, except it was a magical one, which meant that sugary dragons blew out a splattering cascade that flowed down and disappeared before it touched anything else. There was some fruit in the center of the table, but it was covered with a glaze of sugar. And there was a bowl of biscuits not far from that, so delicate and white and filled with folded bits of orange and dough that Harry was afraid to touch them.
            “Happy Christmas, pup,” said Sirius.
            Harry blinked at him, and then at the table again, and then said, “You aren’t going to make me eat anything healthy?”
            Sirius relaxed and laughed. “Of course not! There’s tomorrow for that, and the other three hundred and sixty-three days of the year. But for today—” He reached out and snapped one corner of a biscuit loose, and then brought it up to turn to powder on his tongue. “There’s this.”
            Harry thought about it a second, and then grinned. He didn’t really know why he was hesitating. He supposed that was the Hermione voice in the back of his head, the one that sometimes made him feel guilty when he didn’t pay enough attention to the rules.
            But if his adult guardian didn’t say he needed to pay attention to the rules, why did he? Harry reached out and picked up a spoon buried in ice cream.
            That, you may give me, Dash said graciously, and unwound from about Harry’s neck and extended his tongue for it.
            Harry snorted. You don’t need to use your tongue to lap up ice cream, he said, and then began ladling ice cream over to Dash anyway.
            It’s something that is a human mannerism. Dash slurped loudly, getting some cream on his nose and having to lick it off. And sometimes, I wish to ape human mannerisms.
            There was some kind of dark hint in the back of his voice, something that said maybe he didn’t approve of Sirius or this feast either, the way Hermione wouldn’t have, but Sirius broke in before Harry could ask Dash about it. “Why are you in Divination, pup?”
            Harry turned around and stared in surprise. He had thought they would talk about nothing except fun over the whole holidays. That was what Sirius had promised. But from the determined set to Sirius’s face, he either had forgotten about this or he thought it would be fun for some reason.
            And Harry wished he could stop distrusting Sirius and stop thinking about the way that Professor Snape would have talked to him, or Malfoy. Maybe Harry could wish that Sirius treated them better, and he would have to insist on it if he and Malfoy were going to be friends. But for right now, they weren’t here, and Sirius had just asked an innocent question, so why couldn’t Harry answer it?
            “I wanted to choose a subject that was kind of easy,” said Harry, shrugging. “And I wanted to be with Ron.”
            Sirius relaxed back until Harry thought he might melt off his chair. “So there was no other reason?” He began to grin. “I’ve met Trelawney, you know. She’s been predicting your death for months, hasn’t she?”
            Harry thought about it, but he had to pause in the midst of his thinking to feed Dash again, who was impatient with him for being distracted. “Yeah, I reckon so. I just stopped paying much attention to it once I got Dash.”
            Sirius’s eyes flickered over to Dash for a second, and he snorted. “Why?”
            “Because if Voldemort came up and tried to hurt me, Dash would handle it,” said Harry.
            It seemed simple to him, but Sirius sucked in his breath, and then reached out and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You know that I would help you too, right?” he almost whispered. “You wouldn’t be alone.”
            “I wouldn’t be alone with Dash, either,” Harry had to point out, but when he saw the way Sirius was frowning, he gave in and nodded. “I know. It’s just…”
            The point was somewhere out there, Harry thought, where he couldn’t reach it. It was strange. It was as though sometimes he felt so smart and wise and he could see all these undercurrents moving around him, like he’d been Sorted into Slytherin after all and he’d learned to see the “mysteries” he sometimes heard the Slytherins talking about, like who was allied with who. That was the main reason that he’d thought Snape was trying to use him in his feud against Dumbledore, and he’d told Snape sharply not to use him that way.
            And then, sometimes he felt stupid and like he couldn’t understand anything. Like the way Sirius was staring at him. It was kind of like the way he’d looked at Harry when he was telling him stories about his dad, like he was expecting Harry to be his dad, sort of the way the Dursleys had. But Sirius would have been happy if he was, and the Dursleys would have been upset.
            It wasn’t exactly like, though. Harry didn’t know how to describe it.
            I’m probably being all Slytherin by looking for hidden plots and stuff, Harry thought. Maybe the Dursleys would have plotted against him, but this was Sirius. His godfather. He thought Sirius could be mean and impatient sometimes, but he wouldn’t keep secrets from Harry.
            “I know you’d help me,” he said.
            “More than just a snake,” said Sirius.
            Harry had to laugh at that, because Dash was so far from just a snake that the way Sirius was reacting was funny in and of itself. “Yes, but he’s a basilisk,” he pointed out, when he saw the stiff way Sirius was looking at him. “He can defend himself and me a lot more than just a snake would be able to.”
            “Hm.” For a moment, Sirius tapped his fingers against his arm and looked at Dash, who curled tighter around Harry and returned the gaze. For the moment, Dash seemed to have lost interest even in ice cream. Harry sighed and cuddled Dash against him, wishing he didn’t feel so torn between Gryffindor and Slytherin for reasons he didn’t even understand. He’d been fine until this year.
            So the Sorting Hat didn’t tell you more than once that you would do well in Slytherin. And you didn’t pick up a snake that makes part of the school think you’re the reincarnation of Slytherin. And—
            Stop that!
            No, said Dash, and snapped his fangs off to the side of Harry’s cheek. Someone who can see your memories needs to convince you, because otherwise you’ll never listen.
            Harry was about to respond when he realized Sirius’s wand was out. And then he realized why. He shook his head and jumped up with his hands extended. “No! It’s okay! Dash wasn’t going to attack me. He and I were just having an argument.”
            “He could have bitten you,” said Sirius, voice low and ugly and eyes never moving from Dash’s face.
            “Yes, but even then, his poison is diluted,” said Harry, desperate to make the savage expression on Sirius’s face go away. “He wouldn’t hurt me much.”
            “I don’t want anyone to hurt you at all,” said Sirius, and jammed his wand back in the holster. He was growling a little, and Harry was afraid that he would transform into a dog and leap right across the table at Dash.
            “I know,” said Harry, as soothingly as he could. “And that’s nice. But he’s not going to hurt me. He would never do it.” Sirius went on glaring, and Harry lost his temper. “If you don’t want anyone to hurt me, stop.”
            Sirius blinked and glanced at him, worried. “Pup?”
            “Just—stop staring at Dash as if you hate him.” Harry sank back in his chair with his arms around Dash, all his appetite gone. “That’s what hurts. Thinking the two of you will never get along.”
            I will get along with him if he stops thinking that I’m going to corrupt you, or whatever it is that he is really afraid of. Dash only sounded that formal when he was upset, and Harry leaned his head to the side so that Dash was heated by both his chin and his shoulder, caught between them. Dash hung stiffly there for a second as if he was going to refuse the comfort, and then sighed and tapped Harry’s cheek with his tongue. All right. Let me up.
            Harry did, and Dash wound about his neck like a collar, while Sirius sighed and said, “Fine, pup. I’ll do what I can. It’s just hard to go from thinking about snakes as the symbol of evil and thinking about basilisks as dangerous, and then finding one fawning all over my godson.”
            “Are snakes the symbol of evil because of the reasons Muggles think they are?” Harry asked, and got a blank look. Right. Sirius hadn’t been raised in the Muggle world. “Or are they evil because they’re the symbol of Slytherin?”
            “They’re not exactly evil,” said Sirius. “It’s just that I didn’t expect you to have one.”
            “Well, I do,” said Harry, and looked down with his hand still on Dash’s neck. Dash moved his head back and forth a little as if to encourage Harry to pet him, but Harry was having trouble right now. It wasn’t even because Sirius was watching him. It was because Harry felt as though this all mattered, mattered tremendously, but—
            But he didn’t know why. And he didn’t know whether he should do the right thing, or what the right thing was. He’d known it was right to go and thank Snape for the part he’d played in freeing Sirius. But beyond that?
            It’s like there was a whole room of people having a conversation about me, and they all stopped when I walked into the room, and yet they expect me to know what they were saying.
            I will be your conversation partner, said Dash, and his determination made Harry smile.
            He took a deep breath and just said, “But you like me anyway? Right? And you can put up with Dash?” he added, because Sirius had his mouth open and Harry wanted to make sure that all his questions were answered.
            Sirius swallowed like Dudley when he had a stomach-ache and looked for a moment at Dash. Then he nodded. “I reckon I can.”
            “Then I don’t think there’s anything else I need to say,” Harry decided, and went back to eating his biscuits.
            It was only later, when he was undressing for bed, that he realized he had never really got an answer about why Sirius wanted to know about Divination.
*
            Harry stuck his head around Sirius’s bedroom door. “Sirius?”
            Most of the time, Sirius was up before him, at least on this holiday. Harry was taking advantage of time off from classes to sleep in and not worry about chores or anything else. Sirius had his magic, and the ability to cast it without the Ministry fussing at him now. And sometimes a house-elf came from Hogwarts. All the chores were taken care of for Harry.
            But this morning, Sirius was asleep, as his loud snores proved. Harry stood there and cast a longing look out the window beyond Sirius’s bed. The windows were mostly enchanted, but some of them were just guarded and would show you the real view, and this was one of them. The weather out there was cold but clear and blue, perfect flying weather. At least if Harry wore his warmest Quidditch gear, and he would. He wanted to go out there and test the new Firebolt Sirius had given him.
            Surely it’s all right, said Dash, twining around his ankles. I will watch and tell you when he wakes up and you should come down.
            Harry hesitated again. But he thought Sirius might actually like it if Harry broke the rules a little. He was always saying Harry was too prim and proper, and it was probably Hermione’s influence that had made him that way.
            So Harry ran back to his bedroom to get his Firebolt.
            He stopped when he saw the dark green package lying on his bed. He wondered for a second if it was a present from Dumbledore. That was just the way his Invisibility Cloak had shown up in first year, lying in plain sight with no sign of how it had got there.
            But when he picked up the package and turned it around, there was no sign of a note. He looked down at Dash, who had come through the door after him.
            “What do you think?” he whispered. “Is it safe?”
            Dash’s tongue darted out, and a second later, he said, It smells like cloth. And also like Snape’s dungeons. I do not think it is dangerous.
            You don’t think, Harry muttered, but he unwrapped the package.
            It was a cloak, and for one blank moment, Harry wondered if someone had taken his Invisibility Cloak and turned it green. But it didn’t make his hands disappear as it tumbled over them, and a second later, he shook his head and told himself not to be so stupid. This was an ordinary cloak. It was nice, and it felt thick and warm, and Harry suspected it would guard him well from the wind when he flew on his broom, but it was ordinary, after all.
            Which made him wonder why someone would go to such trouble to sneak the cloak into his room, and if he should be suspicious.
There is something else, Dash said, and he wound about a piece of paper that had fallen off the bottom of the package’s wrapping and onto the floor, and passed it up to Harry in a coil.
Harry took it cautiously, although he knew the handwriting on it, and he didn’t think Snape would try to put contact poison on a note.
The cloak is a Christmas gift. I have used a Draught of Invulnerability on it. It should reflect most spells that hit you with an intent to harm, as long as at least part of the cloak is touching you. Use it wisely.
And then there was Snape’s signature, although it was tiny and cramped, as if Snape had been writing fast.
Harry let out a wavery little breath and stared at the cloak. It was something to protect him. He didn’t think it had any strings attached. Snape had probably given him this just to give him something, without mocking Dumbledore or Sirius. Harry didn’t even think the note sounding like the note Dumbledore had given him with his Invisibility Cloak was a plot. Probably just a coincidence.
On the other hand…
The cloak was green. Sirius might not care that much if he saw Harry wearing it, as long as he didn’t know where it came from, but Harry knew the color was a message.
Once again, it was a message he was too stupid to understand.
He wants to protect you, and he wants to think of you as partially a Slytherin. Dash said it with a long, human-like yawn that indicated his extreme patience, as least from the hum of his thoughts in Harry’s mind. I don’t see why that’s so difficult.
“I could understand him wanting to protect me,” Harry whispered, stretching the cloak back and forth in his hands. It was weird, thinking of Snape that way after he’d thought of him as a villain in first year and not much better last year, but he could. “It’s…he’s known I could speak Parseltongue for a year. It didn’t bother him. It never…”
It never concerned him? He didn’t seem to care? Dash’s voice was gentle, and he laid his head on Harry’s foot, looking up at him with concealed yellow eyes.
“Yeah,” Harry whispered, and he bent down and touched Dash’s plume. Why now? he continued mentally, because the last thing he wanted was for Sirius to wake up and hear this conversation. It must just be because Sirius is back and he wants to compete with him, or something.
I thought you were hurt because he hadn’t cared before, said Dash, sounding surprised. I didn’t know you were thinking of it like that. Of course I’m what’s different. He didn’t know that you could bond to a basilisk before.
Harry frowned at him. But Dash looked back at him, and his self-importance was calm, not bragging the way it usually was.
I hope he doesn’t think I’m Slytherin reincarnated or anything. That rumor had begun to appear in some of the papers.
No. I doubt that. Dash’s tail crept back around his ankles, so that Harry would have tripped if he’d tried to take a step forwards. But he knew Dash wouldn’t let him fall. But I think he thinks of you as something rather special. Someone to be protected. The only way he can, since you’re not under his protection the way the Slytherins are.
Harry ended up shaking his head and draping the cloak slowly, hesitantly, around his shoulders. He wished he could feel sure of what was Snape’s game and what was reality. But then, he didn’t even know that with Sirius half the time. He felt like he should be suspicious of Sirius’s questions about Divination, and then he felt bad about feeling that way. And he’d wondered about the locked door not far from his bedroom, and then told himself that Sirius was perfectly in the right to keep secrets in his own house if he wanted to.
Except it’s my house, too.
            Harry took a deep breath and snatched up his broom. If he was going to fly before Sirius woke up, he had to go now.
            Dash not only came with him and watched him fly, he consented to go up on the broom with Harry, which he didn’t usually do. Harry delighted in flying with him. It meant he had to keep making adjustments, because Dash wasn’t only a slight extra weight added to the broom but prone to moving around to try and find a more comfortable position, which sent the broom in new directions.
            But it was worth it, to feel Dash’s head on his lap and against his heart. Worth it even to encounter Sirius’s scolding when he came down, although Sirius also seemed pleased that he hadn’t asked permission, which made Harry wonder about the scolding.
*
            When Potter came back to the school after the Christmas holidays, he wore the cloak.
            It was pure chance Severus saw him before he got into Gryffindor Tower and took it off. And his pleasure at the sight was almost chance, too. After all, he had regretted the gift the moment he sent it. He had thought it possible he would get a visit from an enraged Black within the day, roaring about Snivellus endangering his godson.
            Instead, he got a long, slow look from Potter as he walked past Severus, and then a nod. Severus nodded back. Potter ducked into the castle, but paused once to turn and look at Severus where he stood by the gates, waiting to guide in students who might find themselves lingering or inexplicably delaying on the road to Hogsmeade.
            Severus looked back. He could say nothing here, in front of so many hurrying other people, and perhaps Potter knew that, or sensed it. The boy did not have bad Slytherin instincts, when he chose to exercise them.
            But if Potter knew subtlety was necessary, that wasn’t the same thing as being good at it. He whispered, “Thanks,” with a motion of his mouth big enough that Severus could have seen it from behind a tree, and then turned and ran towards his friends, who were shouting for him from inside the school.
Severus nodded at his back and stepped thoughtfully to the side to watch a developing interaction between two Gryffindors and a Slytherin.
Potter still lived with Black, it seemed, and must not have told him where the cloak came from, or Black would have made him take it off or give it up. And that meant…
Perhaps that Severus’s wish for the boy would come true, and he would find some way to balance between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
Severus did not know exactly what Potter would become, if he managed to do so. But he was sure it would be something infinitely greater than if the boy continued along the undivided Gryffindor path.
*
staar: Dash did what he could. It’s not removed all of the book’s influence.
Snape is mostly pleased that Harry has a sort of Slytherin connection.
ChaosLady: Thanks!
Meechypoo: They will eventually. But this is a long story, and they’re young. It’ll take a while.
moon: Thank you!
SP777: I’m always happy to have you explain why, but hey, for right now, you don’t have to.
delia cerrano: I don’t think Harry thinks Dumbledore is his best friend. He’s just wary of all the adults right now, because no one is acting exactly like he expects.
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A Brother to Basilisks