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A Brother to Basilisks	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 85172 -:- 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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Chapter Fifty-Three—Dancing
            “Harry Potter,” said Alisoun Selwyn, sliding into a curtsey that she held so long Harry started to wonder if her knees were cramping. “It’s very pleasant to meet you.”
            Harry couldn’t tell whether or not her voice held a slight hint of an accent, like most of the rest of the Durmstrang students’. It was too low to tell that. She was tall and slim, with brown hair that hung in soft waves over her shoulders. She wore blue dress robes that had lace at the cuffs. They didn’t look silly, the way Ron’s had.
            In fact, looking at Alisoun, the first thing Harry felt was safe. He didn’t think it was his imagination that his dance partner for the evening was looking into corners and shadows, and probably not seeing Dementors everywhere, the way Sirius did when he did it. She had a long collar of pearls that hung down underneath her dress. It swirled with her when she turned, and Harry saw a knife hanging at the end of it.
            If she could guard him from Professor Moody or whoever he really was, then Harry would be glad.
            “Thanks. You too.” Harry finally realized that Alisoun had stood back up and was looking at him with a faint smile. “I hope you don’t mind dancing with someone shorter than you.”
            “The challenge will be the dancing itself, from what I understand.” Alisoun held out a languid arm, and Dash said in the back of Harry’s head when he stared at it, You’re supposed to put your arm under it. Don’t you remember what McGonagall said in the lesson last week?
            I thought that was only when you were dancing! Harry protested, and extended his arm, knowing he was blushing. “Yes. Well. Um. I’m not a good dancer.”
            “I know the right steps, and the right illusion spells. It won’t be a problem for you to follow me and for me to make you look good.”
            “I—you can do that?” It was a solution that had never occurred to Harry. He’d thought Alisoun would definitely be a good dancer or the Selwyns wouldn’t have said she should come, but this was far beyond what he’d expected.
            Alisoun smiled at him as they made their way into Hogwarts. Harry had had to go outside to meet her since she couldn’t Apparate into the castle. “Yes. My parents taught me many arts.”
            “Not Durmstrang?”
            “Durmstrang is a very good school. But there are some things your parents should teach you.”
            “I wouldn’t know,” Harry whispered, and shook his head when he saw Alisoun looking at him. “Ignore me. Sorry. It’s something I get maudlin about sometimes.”
            “With good reason,” said Alisoun. They walked through the entrance hall, and she abruptly halted and turned towards the corner where Harry knew Dash was. “A spell to show me what is the most dangerous thing in a room,” she explained, before Harry could ask her how she’d noticed him.
            I am not a thing, Dash said, but he flowed out and stretched himself in a way that made Harry know he appreciated the compliment anyway.
            “He is magnificent,” said Alisoun, with a little sigh in her voice, as if she’d always hoped to see a basilisk. “Just what my father was telling me.” She turned her head and nodded to Harry, eyes like a hawk’s. “I hope he makes up for your lack of a family. It seems that even those who should do not treat you like family.”
            Harry felt as though his blush was going to eat his face now. “I have plenty of friends! And Dash. And I had family that raised me.”
            “I was referring to your godfather. I understand that Father and Maman were originally supposed to meet you at his house, and then he changed his mind. That speaks volumes to the person who can open the book.”
            “You’re a lot—blunter than I thought you’d be.”
            “Why should I not be? My parents have told me you do not appreciate deception. And this is a dance and a date where we know each other’s purposes for coming. I am merely making you understand what we understand. That way, you cannot be taken by surprise later.”
            Harry grimaced a bit in return, but nodded. He didn’t think Alisoun was the one who would take him by surprise, though. Professor Snape and Draco had reacted to the mention of his date in strange ways that he was also having trouble understanding, and he was still reeling with some of what they’d said.
*
            “If I’d known that you just wanted to date an ally, I would have introduced you to any of the others in Slytherin.”
            Harry stared at Draco. Draco had been the one who’d come to the library and asked Harry about his date for the Yule Ball, when Harry had been sitting by himself peacefully looking for anything that would make the golden egg make sense. But Draco was also the one who stood there now with his arms folded and such a glistening frown on his face that Harry thought he would have started wailing like Dudley in a second.
            “I—it’s not so much that she’s an ally,” Harry explained. “It’s that the Selwyns offered, and they said she was good at dancing. I hate dancing, Draco. I hate the fact that I have to open the stupid Yule Ball at all. I didn’t want to go around asking people to be my date. Now the problem is solved.”
            “But someone might want to be your date.”
            “Yes, I know that. I mean, Fleur did,” Harry said, trying to backtrack and make himself sound a little less arrogant. “But I don’t really trust them to want to be my date for real reasons and not just because I’m the Boy-Who-Lived or in the Tri-Wizard Tournament or something. This way, I have someone whose reasons I know.”
            Draco was quivering. He opened his mouth for a second, then locked his teeth together again. Harry watched him, helpless.
            He made the only guess he could think of, the only stab in the darkness. “Did someone you want turn you down for the Ball? Or did you find out that someone only wanted to date you because you were a Malfoy?” He made his voice as soft as he could, as gentle, even though the thought of someone treating Draco like that made him want to duel them. “That’s awful. Can you find someone else?”
            “The person I really want is already going with someone else.”
            “I’m sorry,” said Harry. He didn’t care that much himself, because, as he’d told Draco, he would have been just as happy to hide in a corner and ignore the entire Ball. But he could appreciate that it was a lot harder for other people. “What did they say when you asked them?”
            Draco growled and stomped off. Harry just shook his head, and then heard a breathless little noise and looked around curiously.
            It was Dash, under the table, who was lying on his back and baring his belly to Harry in a way he rarely did. His hisses were almost silent. Harry bent towards him. “What’s the matter? Are you sick?”
            Dash rolled back upright, and Harry understood the noises in the back of his mind better. He was laughing.
            What?
            You are so much fun, said Dash. And now, I must go and ask my date to the Yule Ball. He crawled off with dignity when Harry was still trying to ask why a basilisk needed a date and what in the world was so funny.
            Draco hadn’t thought it was funny. Neither did Harry, but only because he wanted to know who in their right mind would reject Draco.
*
            Harry grimaced a little as he and Alisoun came to a stop next to Fleur and her date, who Harry thought was the Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Krum and his date weren’t there yet.
            Professor Snape’s reaction had been even stranger.
*
            “Do you know what you are doing?” was the first thing Snape had asked when Harry stepped into his office for his next Occlumency lesson.
            Harry stopped and stared at him. He could feel Dash unwind from his shoulders and go over to nose into a random corner for mice, although he had never found any of them in Snape’s clean office. Harry didn’t know what Dash was doing, but he seemed strangely cheerful and prone to leaving Harry alone whenever someone spoke sharply to him in the past few days.
            “I think so.” Harry straightened his shoulders and tried to think over his actions in the last week, wondering what might have offended Snape. “I mean, of course I’m not as good at Occlumency as you are, but I think I’m getting—”
            “No. I was speaking of your agreeing to go to the Yule Ball with the Selwyn girl.”
            “I don’t understand,” Harry snapped, although he felt a little relief because at least now he knew what Snape was talking about. “I thought you were the one who encouraged me to make allies in the first place! All that—that stuff about them potentially being important and the way that they would make investments in the future. Was I only supposed to think about that when it didn’t come to dates to the Yule Ball?”
            There was a sharp movement from the corner of Harry’s eye, and he leaped in the air and whirled around, not yet trusting strange things like that after all his years at the Dursleys. But it was only Dash’s tail snapping through the air, as he rolled himself over and over. He was laughing again.
            I don’t understand you, either, Harry told him.
            Dash said nothing, except, You wouldn’t.
            “That is not what I meant.” Snape was bending down towards him the way he had on the day that he’d told Harry he could count on him. “I only wonder if you have thought properly about the vulnerable position you are putting yourself in.”
            “Do you think she’s going to kill me when we’re dancing or something? Does dancing leave you more open to that kind of thing?” Snape certainly hadn’t said anything about it when they were practicing curses and wandless magic.
            Snape muttered something to himself that Harry was glad he couldn’t understand. If the price of understanding was going as mad as Snape and the rest of them, then he would stay sane and oblivious, thanks.
            “That is not it. I am talking about—social vulnerability. Romantic vulnerability.”
            “Did you know that your mouth looks like it’s trying to twist itself inside out when you say that?”
            Snape grimaced and said, “Answer the question.”
            “I’m not going with her because I’m in love with her. I’m only going to the Yule Ball because I’m one of the Champions.” Harry recited the familiar words in a monotone, gazing at the ceiling. He wished someone would believe him. Maybe he could make them believe him after the Ball. “I’m not going to fall in love with her, either. I’m grateful to the Selwyns for offering. And anyway, they’d probably be offended if I refused them.”
            Snape seemed to be struggling to say something for a moment. Then he said, all in a rush, “And have you considered that marriages have been founded on less?”
            “Less what?”
            “Some might see you in the company of the Selwyn girl and assume that you will date her and marry someday.”
            “Her name is Alisoun. Anyway, Rita Skeeter thinks that I’m dating Hermione and snogging the Ravenclaw Seeker on the side.”
            Harry was just glad that the articles hadn’t had any serious consequences so far. And he’d been too busy, what with exams and dancing lessons and trying to understand why everyone had gone mad about the stupid Ball, to think of them.
            “It could be worse if Skeeter had proof.” Snape knelt down as if he thought he could peer into Harry’s head and rearrange things there.
            Well, Harry knew Snape could peer into his head, but he didn’t think Snape would rearrange anything there. He glared right back. “I think that the Selwyns probably have enough—investments, or whatever you would call them—”
            “Social capital,” Snape said, sounding hypnotized.
            “To carry them through any explosion of rumors. And Alisoun will go back to Durmstrang when the dance is over, so the owls are less likely to reach her there.” Harry shrugged, not really understanding why Snape continued to stare at him. “Besides, you know Skeeter doesn’t really want to come anywhere near me.” He glanced at Dash. A basilisk was very useful sometimes.
            How dare you, said Dash haughtily. That is at all times. He curled his tail around in a sort of dance and looked down at his scales, apparently because he hadn’t got enough of his daily dose of admiration.
            “I was thinking about the consequences to you.”
            “I just told you why they don’t worry me.”
            Snape closed his eyes for a second and massaged his face. Then he said, “What if the consequences came from other—people around you? Not Skeeter and her ilk.” Harry admired his sneer. He’d like to learn to do that. “From people in the school, or close to you?”
            Harry half-closed his eyes. “You mean people like Sirius? Yeah, I thought about that. But he can’t help me with a partner for the dance, either.”
            “I was also not thinking of him.”
            Harry opened one eye. “Then stop hinting around and say what you mean, because I don’t understand. Dash is still going to frighten most people off who might be interested in dating me and then disappointed because they can’t. Is that what you’re talking about?”
            Snape worked his jaw and glanced towards Dash. Dash coiled back and watched Snape in interest, too. Harry was glad Dash thought it was also strange that Snape wouldn’t simply state, outright, what he meant.
            “It should not be anything frightening,” Snape said slowly. “But it might be annoying. If you don’t consider carefully who you’re going to the dance with.”
            “I would go with a friend if a friend was interested. But everyone who comes up just wants to go to the dance with me because I’m a Champion or I’m famous or something. It has nothing to do with—enjoying my company.” Harry found it hard to say the last words. They weren’t really what he meant. But he had to say something.
            “Have you asked your friends?”
            “Hermione isn’t interested. And I don’t—I don’t want Ginny to get her hopes up. She already has a crush on me.”
            Snape gave a long, slow sigh. “Then there is little left for me to say, if you have already considered the possible options and made your mind up.”
            There was something odd about his voice on those words, and Harry might have asked more. But Snape straightened up in the next instant and said, voice still odd, “I must get some brewing done before the ball. There might be injuries caused by broken feet and trodden-on toes,” and ushered Harry out the door. Dash hardly had the chance to get out himself before Snape shut it.
            Do you think he was upset because I’m taking a Selwyn? Harry asked Dash as they walked out of the dungeons and back towards Gryffindor Tower. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Keep my options open and wait to see if any other allies sent me a letter offering me someone to take?
            Dash was useless, though. He had already dropped back into that laughter again. Harry shook his head and kept walking. People were just mental about the stupid Yule Ball. He would be glad when it was over.
*
            Harry finally heard footsteps behind them. It probably meant Krum and his date were here. He turned around with a smile—and blurted out, “Hermione?”
            It was her. But she looked different than Harry had ever seen her. He hadn’t even known that she owned dress robes, or that she could smooth her hair down like that. And her face shone as she leaned on Krum’s arm.
            And God, Krum looked smug.
            Harry shook his head. “Right, you just happened to be in the library to talk to me all the time,” he said.
            Krum grinned some more, and didn’t answer. Alisoun made a little movement beside Harry, and Harry blushed and said, “Hermione, Viktor, this is Alisoun Selwyn. She goes to Durmstrang.”
            Of course, a second later he remembered that Krum did, too, and so they probably already knew each other. But all they did was exchange a distant nod, and then McGonagall stepped out and gave them a faint frown, as if she thought they would have run off when she wasn’t watching them.
            “The other students will be arriving soon,” she said. “Please go out into the Great Hall and stand ready to lead the first dance. It will be a waltz,” she added, with an especially stern glance at Harry.
            Harry flushed. He didn’t know what was going to happen with that. But Alisoun squeezed his arm and nodded to McGonagall, and maybe that meant she was really good at dancing it.
            They entered the Great Hall, and the other students started piling in a second later. Harry looked at them quickly. There was Ginny with Neville, and Harry was glad that she’d got to come. Ron was escorting Lavender Brown. Harry sighed in relief. The last week, Ron’s dithering around asking someone out had got so bad that Harry had stopped listening to him, so he hadn’t known whether Ron had ever asked Lavender or not.
            There was Draco—alone. Harry stared at him and raised his eyebrows a little. He’d thought Draco would go and ask one of the Veela girls from Beauxbatons since the person he wanted apparently wasn’t available.
            He got a glare hot enough to make his face scald. Harry flinched, and Alisoun murmured, “Is this someone I will need to protect you from?”
            “No. He’s a friend. Just—annoyed about something.” Harry turned away from Draco. He would have enough to concentrate on with the dancing in a minute.
            But when he heard people laughing and something about “the basilisk,” he turned to look. He had assumed Dash was following behind them. Of course, there was the nonsense he’d sometimes prattled about his “date,” but Harry expected to see him with a rat beside him that he was going to eat later or something.
            He wasn’t. Instead, he was draped comfortably around Hagrid’s shoulders, and Hagrid was wearing a pair of dress robes big enough to make a sail for a boat. Hagrid was grinning, although Harry thought he saw him dart a wishful glance at Madame Maxime.
            “A clever idea,” Alisoun murmured. “Was it yours?”
            Harry wanted to say yes, but he had no idea what the Selwyns would say if they found out he’d been lying. It wasn’t his fault if they disbelieved him when he was telling the truth about something like not being the reincarnation of Slytherin, but he had to be honest. “No. Dash’s. He said he had a date. I didn’t know who it was.”
            Or how Dash had talked to Hagrid, either. Then again, Dash had mentioned a fortnight ago that he was learning to write letters with his nose in the dirt, and Hagrid was patient and good with animals.
            I hear you there, thinking I’m an animal.
            And I see you there, keeping a secret from me. Harry smiled at Dash again. You did this so you could come along to the Ball and no one would think you were too threatening to keep an eye on me, right?
            Do think about it that way. It’s good to see you exercising your brain, since you don’t seem prone to it when it comes to who you date.
            There was that mysterious tone of superiority in his voice again. Harry turned away in irritation. He was almost glad to see that the dance was beginning; music was starting to play, and food had appeared on one of the plain tables, without benches, that had replaced the Gryffindor House table.
            “Shall we?” Alisoun crooked her arm.
            Harry took her arm in turn, trying to keep a close eye on the way she stood and moved. But then he realized he didn’t have to worry about that, because Alisoun’s wand flicked even as she bent down and whispered, “They’ll see your feet moving gracefully no matter what happens.”
            “Thank you.”
            Alisoun smiled faintly, studying him with quizzical eyes. “You’re not at all what I expected.”
            “I can’t be a stuck-up hero because I would have been dead by now.” Harry tried to follow the instructions of the music, and remember what McGonagall had said as much as possible. “And I can’t be a pure-blood because of my mum.”
            “That’s not what I meant.”
            Maddeningly, Alisoun refused to say what she did mean, and simply twirled around him when the music called for it and danced opposite him when they had to do that and did some other steps that Harry couldn’t remember from his lessons, but which she said were part of the waltz. Harry was panting by the time they were done. He supposed he could see why McGonagall had thought he would be a good dancer. This could be like Quidditch if you looked at it in the right way.
            Knowing Dash was there also made him feel better, although he had to keep his eyes away from Draco. Whatever he had done, Draco hadn’t forgiven him yet.
*
            She doesn’t deserve to be there. It should have been me, instead.
            Draco chewed his cheek and ignored the feeling like acid churning in his stomach that made him want to spit. That wasn’t going to happen.
            Neither was conversation. Although he had could have gone to the Yule Ball with any of the dozen Slytherin girls who had offered, and probably with at least one of the Beauxbatons students if he’d wanted to make the effort, Draco was glad he’d come alone. No one expected him to talk and chatter and compliment. He could brood and glare and plot.
            Not much chance he would actually get to harm Selwyn, who would go back to her school after the dance. And Jackson Selwyn, while in Slytherin, was so distantly related to her—to the point that Draco knew rumors had floated around about whether there was a connection at all—he would be no fun to insult.
            Harry would be upset if he did that, too. And Draco didn’t want to upset Harry. He wanted Harry to apologize, but if Harry thought he was the offended one, he would cling to his stubbornness and refuse to apologize. So Draco had to come up with some other way to express what he really felt, and take revenge.
            He was leaning back with his arms folded and a scowl on his face when there was a disturbance by the door. He looked over there. Then he looked twice and dropped his arms and stared.
            He didn’t think Harry had seen them yet, because he was too involved in the current dance with Selwyn. But Draco knew things had changed, and he wanted to laugh and scream and ask questions at the same time.
            In the door, dressed in almost identical formal silver robes and with their arms intertwined as if they were dates, stood his mother and Sirius Black.

*
ChaosLady: That’s something Harry would like to know, too.
moon: Thanks!
Mariah: It didn’t happen in this chapter, obviously. But Draco does know, although he doesn’t yet phrase it in the realm of romantic attraction.
SP777: Well, more like “rabid wolf” when it comes to Draco, but yeah.
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A Brother to Basilisks