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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
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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Forty-Eight—Options
            Lucius leaned back and laughed when he finished reading Draco’s letter. He hadn’t known he was going to do that; when he was first reading it, he had felt small unexpected jolts of shock slam into him along with the words. He had thought he would have to discipline Draco, to retreat from any support of Potter, or at least contact Severus and warn him that he must try harder to keep Draco out of trouble.
            But now…
            There were many things Lucius could do. They would come about because of conditions and circumstances Draco hadn’t been specifically aware of, but that made little difference. What really mattered was that Lucius had options.
            For long moments, Lucius sat in his chair in the study, while he considered what he could do. He had the complaint against Moody, or “Moody,” to investigate as well. For a second, he thought about using the leverage from the incident where Moody had Transfigured Draco together with this one, and getting the professor kicked out of the school.
            He shook his head as other implications came to him, though. This might be enough to make “Moody” leave. It would not be enough to find out who he really was, or why Dumbledore had hired him in the first place. And it would not be enough to undermine Dumbledore’s popularity and power in the wizarding world at large.
            That was what Lucius wanted most of all. Dumbledore gone, so that he would stop interfering “for the greater good” in the way the Board of Governors ran Hogwarts. They could choose someone more…tractable without Dumbledore there.
            And of course these incidents would help him achieve that goal. But right now, they didn’t have enough power on their own.
            Lucius smiled, and moved like a snake to the next plan that would, a plan that depended on slowly, carefully, revealing himself to be on Potter’s side. And the best thing was that, given Draco’s friendship with the Boy-Who-Lived, Lucius wouldn’t even need to pretend that he was doing this from the good of his heart, which no one was going to believe anyway. He could pretend that it was politically awkward if he turned against his son’s best friend.
            The right people would know he was lying. But the right people wouldn’t care for the real motive so much as the politically plausible cover.
            Lucius drew out his parchment and ink, chuckling with delight. Sometime when Potter was last vulnerable and sensitive than he would be now, Lucius would have to thank him for being the occasion of so much happiness.
            For more than one member of the Malfoy family, at that.
*
            Severus stood when he saw the way Minerva strode down the Great Hall at him. It was Saturday now, a brief breathing period that Severus usually spent in his quarters marking essays.
            But this was the early morning, and at breakfast before most of the students got up. Severus, who usually enjoyed the time for its privacy from both little monsters and incompetent colleagues, didn’t think he had ever seen Minerva here.
            He questioned her with his eyes, and Minerva nodded. She paused only to take a hearty plate of bread and butter from the table, then led the way towards the entrance hall. Severus blinked when they bypassed the stairs that led to her quarters, but understood her reasoning a second later, as Minerva briefly touched her temple.
            They didn’t want to be anywhere inside an environment where nosy portraits and a Legilimens might overhear them. And Moody, at least, was a Legilimens where he should not be.
            Minerva took him out right to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, beneath a particularly rearing oak that Severus had sometimes gathered leaves and bark from. Then she stabbed her wand into the ground and murmured a word Severus didn’t catch.
            He stepped back as a powerful, transparent Privacy Charm shimmered up around them, focused on her wand. Minerva gave him a stiff smile.
            “Private place for Gryffindor Quidditch teams to plan for games,” she said, and swallowed. “There’s something wrong with Albus.”
            I could have told you that years ago, about the time that he excused the Marauders for attempting to kill me. But Severus did not intend to derail the conversation. He only said, “What, specifically?”
            “I know he’s affected,” said Minerva, and she paced in a small circle, her hands locked together behind her back. She turned to look at Severus. “But I don’t know whether it’s a spell or a potion or—senility.”
            You need not look so frightened, Severus thought, but he knew a touch of fear himself. Albus had been one of the reasons he stayed out of prison. The Ministry would love a chance to swoop in and change things about the school if they thought Albus had finally started to decline.
            Which is why we must go to the Board of Governors as soon as possible. “And it wasn’t just his hiring of Moody that made you determine this?”
            Minerva shook her head. “I got nowhere speaking to Moody. That man…” For a moment, she looked as she did in the moments before she transformed, and Severus hoped she had tried to claw Moody. In the end, thought, she banished the expression and continued, “I’ve contacted a few people I know among the school’s Governors. They both made it clear that Moody had been hired on Albus’s express recommendation. They’d balked because Moody has the reputation of being erratic even among Aurors. But Albus said that he had an extremely important reason for hiring Moody.” She hesitated.
            “That doesn’t sound like evidence of incompetence to me,” Severus had to point out. “It sounds like the way Albus always talks.”
            Minerva shut her eyes. “They said that the reason was because his lemon drops had told him to.”
            Severus couldn’t prevent his expression from changing. Since Minerva wasn’t looking at him, though, he didn’t think she’d noticed. “And they didn’t go immediately and alert some of their friends?”
            “Albus had been able to persuade the rest of the Board that Moody was a good hire without being questioned.” Minerva sighed. “And I think they were convinced that no one would believe them.” She turned and stared helplessly at Severus. “Even Lucius Malfoy agreed without needing further persuasion. Why? He at least could have done something by now.”
            “Lucius has to walk carefully among his fellow Board members after being dismissed once,” Severus reminded her. “He’s saving his power for a moment when he really needs it.”
            “Slytherin power politics.”
            Severus saw no need to correct her. It was. But it would also be more useful to them and their goals than a dozen Gryffindor things Minerva could have done.
            “So now what do we do?”
            Severus realized that Minerva wasn’t going to go on a rant about the differences between Houses only then. He blinked and replied, “What we’re doing. Support Harry, give Lucius time to move on his own, and support Miss Granger’s petition.”
            “But Moody could be an immediate danger to the students!” Minerva stood tall. “And with an incompetent Headmaster at the helm of the school…”
            “Do you think that anyone will believe accusations against Albus without extremely compelling evidence?” Severus asked softly. “Would your friends be willing to get up and testify about what they heard in front of others?”
            Minerva grimaced. “No. They only spoke to me in the first place because of friendships that have literally survived wars.”
            I wonder who your friends are. But it wasn’t Severus’s place to ask, so instead he only inclined his head and said, “I will be doing other things. For example, I discovered that Alastor Moody has never been a registered Legilimens, so he cannot be Moody. And I can add investigations into whether Albus is under the influence of a potion to my duties.”
            “Could you?” Minerva looked him straight in the face. “I’d be grateful.”
            You do not promise it in the same way someone from my own House would. But Severus thought he was learning how to ally with Gryffindors, even without specific promises. He nodded. “Yes.”
            In the meantime, he had another task, although that was one he did not think it wise to inform Minerva of. He would meet Harry and Dash this morning in his quarters to look at their bond with Legilimency.
*

            Harry sighed as he watched Hedwig soar away with the letters he’d written. He hoped they were good enough. He’d hit on the idea of explaining to the Selwyns and the other families he’d allied with that he’d got overwhelmed with doing too much at once. It was hard being in the Tri-Wizard Tournament and having a basilisk bonded to him.
            And if they wanted to read between the lines and decide that it was also hard being the reincarnation of Slytherin, they were welcome to do that.
            Dash twined around his feet and said, I think you did fine. But I must admit that I’ll be happier once we’ve had Snape take a look at us.
            Harry nodded and started down the stairs, Dash flowing along with him. He rarely climbed Harry’s shoulders now. Harry had thought that was because of the disruption of their bond, but Dash had pointed out how big he was getting and how inconvenient it would be for Harry.
            Unfortunately for their plans, they met Hermione at the bottom of the stairs.
            Harry jerked to a stop, and Dash reared up behind him, although thankfully not as threateningly as he would have done in some times and places before this. Harry reached out and put a hand on his head, watching Hermione. I don’t think we have to worry about her. But she does want to talk.
            So long as she doesn’t make us late for our meeting with Snape.
            Harry nodded and said, “What is it, Hermione?”
            “You’ve been so distant,” said Hermione bluntly. “You didn’t even seem to care that much about my petition to make professors stop bullying students. And you haven’t tried to make it up with Ron. Why?”
            Harry folded his arms. He was going to tell her the truth, but he wasn’t going to listen to her scold him about that truth. “I’m only going to tell you if you promise not to tell Ron or Professor McGonagall or anyone else without my permission. I don’t trust you not to run off and report it otherwise.”
            Hermione’s eyes got big and hurt, but Harry found he was learning to ignore that. He had to ignore it, or he would give in the second he saw Sirius again. Sirius liked to use that tactic a lot.
            “What are you doing?” Hermione whispered. “Is it dangerous?’
            “Yes, but Professor Snape is standing behind me.”
            That wouldn’t have been a reassurance for Ron, but luckily, Hermione was different. She nodded at once. “That’s good. But then why can’t you tell Professor McGonagall or anyone else at the school?”

            Harry stepped close and lowered his voice. “Because someone cast a spell on me that weakened my bond with Dash and made me only care about the Tournament and Sirius and my proper place as a Gryffindor. I think that person was either Moody or Dumbledore.”
            Hermione froze. Then she said, “I can believe that Professor Moody would do something like that. But Dumbledore?”
            Harry shrugged. “I need to find out who it really was. But I know that Professor Dumbledore was always for me getting closer to Sirius and against me bonding with Dash.”
            “He let you keep Dash!”
            “He also thought it was a good idea for me to participate in the Tournament, but not to have Dash help me,” Harry pointed out. “Is that really a good idea? Do you think I can really handle all these traps and tasks by myself?”
            Hermione’s hand flew to her mouth. “It could be true,” she whispered.
            “It could,” Harry said, and managed to keep his voice calm and patient—he thought. If Hermione started and looked at him a little, well, that was all right. “It probably is. But right now, I need to go and have Snape look at the bond between me and Dash to see if the spell really managed to damage it.”
            “I’ll come with you.”
            Dash had been lying at the bottom of the steps—well, mostly the bottom of the steps, since he was trailing up them, too—but at that, he raised his head and gave a slow, thoughtful hiss. Hermione frowned at him instead of backing up. Harry was glad that she didn’t immediately run screaming the way most students would, but it was inconvenient right now.
            “No,” Harry said. “I don’t want you to come.”
            He could have said other things, he knew. That Snape would be upset to see Hermione there, or that Dash, with his refusal ringing in the back of Harry’s head, would strongly prefer that she stayed here. But Snape wasn’t here and Hermione didn’t have any way to communicate directly with Dash. It would be nice if she simply listened to him.
            Hermione turned to him, looking stricken. “I just want to see you get better, Harry. I’ve been worried about you these past few weeks.”
            “I know that,” Harry said. “Thank you. But you’ll see me get better this afternoon, or after a few weeks. That’s the most I can promise, Hermione.”
            “You don’t want me there?”
            Harry looked steadily at her. Again, he could have said lots of things, including that her presence would cramp what he and Snape wanted to talk about. But then he would have had to explain why, and he was short of time.
            And he wanted some privacy, sometimes.
            “No,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Hermione. Not for this. It’s too private, and it involves my mind.”
            Hermione didn’t break down in tears, either, although for a second her quivering chin made Harry think she was about to. She nodded instead, and raised her head a little. “I can understand why, Harry,” she said. “I do understand. It’s all right. I’ll find Ron, and see if I can get him to pay more attention to what’s going on around him.”
            “Tell him to believe me, too, like you did,” said Harry, and smiled at her. “I know that he believes me sometimes and not others. But he really needs to. I wouldn’t have put my name in the Goblet willingly. Dash would never have let me.”
            “That’s something I never thought of.” Hermione looked at Dash with respect, then flicked her eyes back towards Harry. “And he’s serious about it when he decides to menace someone, isn’t he?”
            She is a witch with good sense, Dash said approvingly, winding one coil around Harry’s leg. Which is rarer than intelligence.
            “Yes, he is,” Harry said. “He menaced Draco last night, and he would have done the same thing to me if I hadn’t started realizing there was a spell clouding the bond between us.” He reached out a hand, and Dash entwined part of his neck around it, with his head winding up on the back of Harry’s wrist. “He’s a serious snake.”
            “With a name like Dash.”
            Tell her, Dash said haughtily, that she does not understand irony. I have found few people that do.
            Am I one of them? Harry asked, as he accepted a hug from Hermione and a smile before she went her way.
            No.
*
            Harry was a few minutes late, just long enough to make Severus wonder if perhaps Moody or Albus had succeeded in kidnapping the boy. But he only shook his head when he caught Severus’s eye and shut the door behind him. “Sorry. Hermione.”
            “Miss Granger thinks it is yet again her place to interfere?”
            “No, she was just worried about me and it was great,” Harry said in distraction, unwinding part of Dash from his hand and setting him on the floor.
            Severus blinked. He wondered if Harry realized how much he had revealed about himself by means of that simple statement.
            Dash cocked his head to the side as though he knew exactly what Severus was thinking and even approved of it, but Severus could never be sure how much the basilisk understood, or how much he might pass on to Harry. For the moment, he concentrated on reaching out and picking up the glass of water he had already prepared.
            Harry took it and sniffed it a little.
            “Looking for a Calming Draught?” Severus spoke softly, but he managed to make his voice sting enough that Harry whipped his head up and looked at him, flushing. “This is not going to work if you don’t trust me, Harry.”
            “I do—I mean—”
            “If you wanted to know if I put a potion in the water,” Severus pointed out, controlling himself carefully so that his sarcasm wouldn’t drive Harry away, “you could just ask.”
            “Did you put a potion in the water?”
            “No.” Severus folded his arms and surveyed Harry’s face carefully. “One of the biggest problems we’ve had is you not trusting me enough to come to me, to ask questions, to listen to my warnings. I wouldn’t emphasize this so much now, but I told you about the absolute trust that we need if I’m going to examine your bond.”
            Harry’s hand trembled for a minute. Then he put down the glass of water and faced Severus straight on. “Why did you give me the water if you didn’t put something in it? And why do I need to trust you absolutely? Dumbledore looked at our bond the night Dash hatched, and I didn’t trust him absolutely at the time.”
            “Thank you,” Severus said softly. Harry looked briefly startled for all the adulthood he was trying to assume, and Severus smiled. “For asking. I gave you the water because I think your throat should be as moist and you should be as comfortable as possible before we start. For the same reason, I was going to ask if you needed to eat or use the loo.”
            “I’m fine,” Harry muttered, his ears turning a shade of red that wouldn’t have shamed a Weasley.
            “And as for why the Headmaster could look at you,” Severus added, “he was looking only to confirm the bond’s existence. I will be looking for damage in it. It’s the difference between looking for a stone wall and looking for a secret door.”
            From the arrested way Harry’s head turned, he had thought of something that he wanted to ask, or something about Severus’s metaphor had caught him. Severus had learned not to pass up chances and fragile, small things—or things that looked fragile and small—with Harry, and he nodded now. “What is it?”
            “Just—you seem so clear when you speak to me like this, or when you’re teaching me about Occlumency and politics.” Harry stared him in the face. “Why don’t you teach Potions like that?”
            “For many years, I had no care for doing so,” Severus said. It felt as if he was reaching into himself and scooping out a lot of internal organs, but he had promised he would be honest. “It didn’t matter much to me whether my students learned all the finer points of Potions or not, as long as they did well enough on the OWLS and didn’t kill themselves.”
            “But if they did better in class, then you might like teaching them better. And some of them wouldn’t need as much watching. So you could spend more time doing other things.”
            Severus huffed out a breath. “It is something to consider,” he said, because if he didn’t, then he knew Harry would feel his contribution ignored. “Not right now, however,” he added, as Harry opened his mouth. “You have given me something new to think about, and I am grateful. For now, I need to see your bond.”
            Harry nodded and settled back in the chair. “Do you need me and Dash to be touching or something?”
            “That would likely help,” Severus allowed. He knew all about looking at regular minds and mind-bonds with Legilimency, but he had to admit that a bond between a basilisk and a Parselmouth would be unique in his experience.
            Dash immediately settled his head in Harry’s lap, and Harry reached down and stroked his neck. He kept up the stroking even when Severus would have thought he’d ask to stop, biting his lip with his bright eyes fixed on Severus.
            Severus held out his wand and sat down on the floor in front of Harry, although he conjured a few cushions before he did that. He didn’t want discomfort to make him lose the thread of the bond before he was through. “Legilimens,” he whispered.
            Entering the mind of someone who welcomed him and didn’t want to keep him out was different from battering through Occlumency shields. Severus was glad. He didn’t want to leave Harry with a headache. That would probably prevent him from ever letting Severus help him with the Mind Arts again.
            The corridors of Harry’s mind were full of a drifting mist. It took Severus a long moment to notice it, but when he did, he half-smiled. Yes, this was the kind of spell he had thought Dumbledore—or Moody—had used. He reached out and began to use his magic to herd the mist to one specific corner of Harry’s mind.
            As he did that, the mist retreated from the bond, which was visible to Severus as a sort of light illuminating Harry’s memories and perceptions. Severus shook his head a little. The mist and the light together told him both how powerful and pervasive Harry’s bond with Dash was, and how strong the spell must be that could block or hinder it.
            The mist finally collected, seething, in one corner. Severus approached it and then cast the spell that would draw it to him, a Legilimens variant on the Summoning Charm.
            The spell attacked him with a blinding blast of pain—and then faded. Severus had no bond to another creature that it could focus on.
            But in the moment when it surrounded him like a blinding windstorm, whipping his head back and forth and filling his mind with agony, Severus got a good “look” at it. He could feel the strength of the magic behind it, and more to the point, he could feel the particular edge of that strength. He knew that magical signature.
            He ought to, when he had spent so much time around the person who had it.
            Severus opened his eyes and found Harry hovering anxiously over him. “Professor Snape? Are you okay?” Harry asked, and helped Severus sit up slowly. It seemed he had fallen over backwards into the nest of cushions he’d built.
            “Yes, I am.” Severus debated telling Harry the truth, but in the end, he decided that Harry needed to know more than he needed to be spared from further sources of worry. And he already suspected. “It was Dumbledore who cast the spell on you.”
            Harry went pale for a second. Then he flushed, deeply, and glanced over at Dash, communing on some level that Severus couldn’t hear but could appreciate, now that he had been so deeply in Harry’s bond.
            “I want to know why,” Harry said dully. When he faced Severus again, his eyes glittered with a deadly, leashed rage that reminded Severus of the way Dash had moved across the entrance hall. “But I’ll wait until a time when I can learn more about it, instead of confronting him right away.”
            Severus nodded in appreciation. If he can learn to blend Slytherin and Gryffindor traits like this all the time, then he’ll be truly formidable.
            And in the meantime, Severus thought he needed to make some plans of his own, to counter Albus’s, inevitable, next move.
*
izzyb09: Thanks! And I don’t think Draco would mind at all being compared to Dash, although Dash might be somewhat insulted. ;)
Eros: When?
ChaosLady: Thank you!
moodysavage: Well, it’s just not something many people besides Hermione and Mrs. Weasley ever do for him.
moon: Thank you!
SP777: Lucius will, but in a way that protects himself and his family.
The Tournament starts the next chapter.
- 47
- 48
- 49
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A Brother to Basilisks