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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.

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Chapter Fifty-Six—Christmas at Malfoy Manor
            “I’m glad you’re safe, pup.”
            Harry nodded slowly. This was the first time he’d been alone with Sirius in months. Ron and Hermione had badgered him down the steps of Gryffindor Tower this morning, made sure that he ate a full meal—at least they’d let him snack on biscuits when he really couldn’t eat any more ordinary food—and then marched after him to the Floo. Hermione had practically threatened to come and check on him the last few days of the holiday. Ron had invited him over for Christmas, again.
            And now Sirius was sitting there and staring at Harry, then away, then at Dash, then away.
            Perhaps his own bad smell has finally entered his nostrils and confused his brain, it’s so strong, Dash offered helpfully from the kitchen floor, where he was doubled in a lazy knot around Harry’s legs.
            You aren’t being helpful.
            Why would I want to be helpful to the smelly dog-man?
            Harry sighed a little, and then caught Sirius’s eye and shook his head with a small grimace. “Sorry. Dash is just being difficult.”
            “I’m not surprised.” Sirius suddenly leaned forwards, and Harry thought his attention was focused on Harry for the first time since they’d arrived home. “He did almost see you die, and he fought off the snake that would have caused it. I know that was You-Know-Who’s snake. You almost died.” His hand found Harry’s and squeezed it.
            “So you like Dash now?” Harry asked hopefully. At least that would be a good thing to come out of this, the only good thing other than the kiss with Draco.
            We also learned other lessons.
            Dash had been making remarks like that since his fight with Nagini. Harry had no real idea what he meant, and had decided he would ignore him until Dash decided to make sense.
            “I admit he likes you,” said Sirius, and he made a small grimace. “Harry…you don’t know why we’re going to the Manor for Christmas, do you?”
            “No. Especially since you didn’t want me to visit Draco during the summer.”
            “That was wrong of me. I should have let you. At least, if Narcissa was going to be there. She’s a lot different from Lucius.” Sirius hesitated and licked his lips. “You know she was my cousin. Her name was Black before she married.”
            “Yeah.” Harry could have learned that from Draco even if Sirius hadn’t told him. Draco was always willing to talk about his family and his ancestors and his home at length if anyone wanted to listen to him.
            Harry felt a sharp flutter in the center of his chest at the thought of Draco, and he bit his lip to keep himself from smiling. Sirius would probably want to know why he was smiling, and Harry wasn’t able to explain yet.
            You should never explain anything to the smelly dog-man.
            Harry hid a sigh, too. Even if the fight had done something good for Sirius’s opinion of Dash, it definitely hadn’t for Dash’s opinion of Sirius.
            “Well, she’s been talking to me for the last few months about certain—things I hadn’t realized the Blacks still cared about.” Sirius turned back and forth restlessly on his chair. Harry just had to watch him, because he didn’t know what Sirius meant. “So many of our family are dead, and some are in prison. I just didn’t—I had a younger brother called Regulus. He died.” Sirius’s face changed, and he stared past Harry’s shoulder. “He was a Death Eater.”
            “Oh.” At least Harry could see why Sirius didn’t like to talk about his family now.
            “He was my parents’ heir after I ran away to live with your dad. I hadn’t thought things had changed. I mean, I thought my parents would have left everything to Narcissa, or maybe my cousin Bellatrix.” Sirius’s face changed again, and he shuddered. “She’s Narcissa’s older sister, and she was also a faithful Death Eater. She’s in Azkaban. But either because my parents didn’t change things fast enough, or because I’m the only male Black who’s still alive and free, or because of something else, I’m the heir again.”
            “Okay,” Harry said slowly. Sirius seemed to expect him to know all about this, or be excited by it, or something. “So what did you inherit? Is that what Narcissa was talking to you about?”
            “Yes. It is.” Sirius glanced around the kitchen once. “I know you love living here, but I have a house that’s more secure. I just don’t want to move back into it because it’s gloomy and dismal.”
            “I don’t want to leave,” Harry said at once. He and Sirius had their problems, but Harry still loved the room Sirius had given him, and how close the house was to Hogwarts, and the freedom it gave Dash to hunt in the garden. “You put up a lot of protective spells, and I still have Dash. We’ll be safe here.”
            I would have taken you elsewhere already if I thought that you would not. I wonder if he knows that?
            I don’t think he thinks you’re that smart.
            Dash had a little hissing tantrum in the back of his head, but Harry couldn’t listen to it, because Sirius had started smiling. “Yes, that’s what I thought too. Plus, that’s the house where my parents lived. It has a lot of bad memories. There’s even probably still a portrait of my mother there. Yuck.” Sirius gave a shudder. “I don’t even want to imagine how nasty she must be now, when she’s been left alone for years.”
            Harry nodded. He hadn’t heard a lot about the Blacks, but anyone who made someone run away and live with their best friend had to be pretty bad. Like the Dursleys.
            “But Narcissa did make me realize I’d inherited other things, too. Old books. Artifacts that could protect you. Properties that aren’t that house where we could go and be safe, if we had to.” Sirius hesitated. He seemed to be working himself up to something. Harry sat up. It had to be big, whatever it was. Sirius was pale, and he had sweat covering his forehead.
            And then suddenly Sirius swerved away from it. “So I brought her to the Yule Ball because I wanted her to see you just dancing and having a good time, and I wanted her professional opinion about how safe you would be. Whether I really had to take you away from this house and put us somewhere else. But she told me she didn’t get to see you very well or watch you for very long. So we’ll go and have a Christmas at the Manor, and then she can watch you better.”
            That is not the real reason. He stinks of lies. Then again, he always stinks.
            I know he’s lying, Harry said, and he tried to reach out and get hold of Sirius’s hand, even though he was gesturing so nervously that Harry knew he wouldn’t exactly let Harry touch him. “Sirius? Can you please just tell me?”
            “Tell you what?” Sirius blinked in a way he probably thought would make him look innocent. “I’m telling you. I want Narcissa to tell me whether she thinks we have to go elsewhere. There’s—lots of things going on, Harry. Some of it is just boring adult stuff having to do with the Black inheritance. But Narcissa’s been a mum a lot longer than I’ve been a guardian.” He gave Harry a huge smile. “I thought she would know whether I have to take you somewhere else to protect you.”
            I could give him the diluted bite, Dash offered, and eased his head closer to Sirius’s leg under the table. He could do it so subtly that Sirius would never notice it coming, Harry knew. Then he could go to sleep, and when he woke up, I would do it again until he told you the truth.
            Harry sighed. He wished it wasn’t so tempting. He stood up, and Dash unwound from his legs so that he could move. Sirius leaned back in his chair and watched him anxiously.
            “I wish you would just tell me the truth,” Harry told him sadly. “It wouldn’t even have to be the whole truth, if that’s a problem. Just some of it.”
            “I’ve told you what I can, Harry!”
            And he sounds like he believes it, too, Dash commented, darting his tongue out once. The problem is, without knowing what even the shadow of the whole truth is, we can’t know whether we should believe him.
            “Then think about it,” Harry said. “And tell me why you can’t tell me.”
            Sirius sat there with his face locked into a picture of misery. Harry shook his head and started to walk out of the kitchen, with Dash flowing after him.
            “I’m trying to save you from it!” Sirius blurted suddenly. “I mean, he said there was no way to save you from it, and maybe he’s right, but I at least wanted to try. And I think he’s wrong about the basilisk being a sign. You killed a basilisk in your second year! That would be a sign in the opposite direction, right? And if I can just figure out enough of the Black magic—my ancestors did crazy things, but they did just what they wanted—if I can—”
            Suddenly he swayed and shut his eyes. He looked ill. Harry took a step back towards him, feeling dizzy. This was the closest he had ever been to getting Sirius to tell the truth, he knew it.
            “Sirius?” Harry finally whispered, when the silence had gone on so long that he thought Sirius wasn’t going to speak again at all.
            “I’m sorry,” Sirius whispered, his head turned away. “If I can save you, then it doesn’t matter if you know or not, I’ll just tell you afterwards. And if I can’t…” Sirius shuddered and put his hands over his face.
            Dash thoughtfully measured the distance between Sirius’s calf and his fangs. Harry reached down and knotted his fingers around Dash’s neck, holding him still.
            You are no fun.
            “I would tell you if you could know,” Sirius whispered. “If it meant that someone else wouldn’t know.”
            Harry opened his mouth to demand again what Sirius was talking about, but Sirius turned, and stood, and fled from the kitchen.
            He is supposed to be an adult, Dash said in scorn, roiling around the kitchen for a second. Harry watched him flow against the bottom of the cupboards, and realized how large he’d grown. Why does he do this? Why do you allow him to do this?
            Harry simply shrugged. He felt tired, worn-out. There was some big secret Sirius was hiding, but Harry didn’t know what it was, and he also didn’t know why Sirius couldn’t just tell him.
            “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”
            We should look for a gift for Draco instead, Dash disagreed, although he climbed the stairs after Harry. You know he will be impossible if he doesn’t have a gift.
            Oh, I thought of one already.
            You didn’t tell me what it was!
            I need you to help me make it.
            Dash caught the edge of the thought from his mind, and lifted himself high enough that he could nudge under Harry’s chin with his nose. You are the best human. I’m so glad you’re mine.
*
            Draco only really relaxed when Harry and Black came through the Floo into the drawing room, and he saw the way Harry was smiling at him. He reached out with one hand, and Harry took it, clasping it strongly enough that his knuckles turned white.
            Dash slithered through the flames after Harry. Draco blinked at him, even as he felt Conflagration wrap around his ankle. There was something he hadn’t wondered before. Of course, he didn’t know if he’d seen Harry Floo with Dash. “How can Dash follow you? He can’t say the name for the destination.”
            Dash flicked his tongue out, and Harry’s face got a little distant. Then he blinked and glanced at Draco. “Apparently he can follow me anywhere, and it doesn’t matter if he can’t actually say the words.”
            That was when Draco remembered seeing Dash slithering towards the garden at the Yule Ball before anyone else knew Harry was in danger. Maybe this resembled that. He didn’t know what a Parselmouth bond was like, and he didn’t think anyone but Harry could know what it was like to be bonded with a basilisk.
            “It’s good he could come,” said Draco, and then stared into Harry’s face the way he’d wanted to since they left each other three days earlier. “Are you—still okay with this?”
            “With you liking me? Yeah.”
            Harry’s smile was slow and uncertain, but Draco could understand why. Harry had wanted to know why Draco liked him. Not as a bloke, but just because he wanted to know why anyone liked him. Draco would have to go a little more slowly than he’d thought and explain a few more things. Some of it would be embarrassing.
            But it was still him who got to do it, not someone else. That delighted Draco enough that he took Harry’s hand and tugged him further into the house.
            “You need to see the presents before everyone starts opening them,” he said. His parents were greeting Black. It was boring. Black might be okay with Mother, but he was making stiff, uncomfortable conversation with Father. Draco thought adults were stupid for spending so much time around people they didn’t like. He would just make sure that he only spent time with his friends when he grew up.
            “Okay,” Harry agreed, and he went with Draco into the main dining room, where the enormous tree stood.
            Harry looked as though someone had cast the Confundus Charm on him when he saw the towering tree. He tilted his head further and further back, and his mouth dropped further and further open. Draco grinned at him and looked at the tree himself, content to watch the blaze and shimmer of the lights and decorations on it.
            The decorations were all different. Even the multiple glass balls that flashed the Black and Malfoy crests were all different colors, or they sometimes showed the crest and sometimes another image, or they were transparent or transparent with shiny opaque patches or they just shimmered like jewels. And the fairy lights flashed in different patterns. And there were little moving unicorns and dragons breathing small curls of flame and miniature prancing hippogriffs that Draco knew his mum had spent hours enchanting.
            “The presents? I don’t even see the presents, with the tree,” Harry said in a dazed way.
            Draco smiled and gestured a little, although he had to take Harry’s chin and turn his face away from the tree in the end. There were all sorts of presents under the tree, but his parents had arranged them by the color of their paper and used minor enchantments on them as well. So there was what looked like a gleaming pile of Galleons, and another pile that was silver like Sickles, and a tumbling set of bronze Knuts.
            Harry didn’t say anything. Draco glanced at him, and was a little disturbed by the expression on his face. “Harry?”
            “I only got you one gift,” Harry said softly. “I think it’s a good one. But when you have all the others…”
            “It’ll be important to me because it’s yours.”
            Harry turned to Draco as if he couldn’t believe that. Draco reached out and took Harry’s hand again, then punched him in the shoulder when that didn’t stop Harry from looking at him doubtfully. “I should be able to make my own decisions about presents, right?” he demanded.
            Harry nodded, uncertainly.
            “Then when I say it’ll be important to me because it’s yours, you should believe me.”
            It took a while, but Harry finally smiled. Then he nodded and stepped aside so Draco could walk into the dining room ahead of him. “After you, Your Majesty.”
            “You’re a prat,” Draco said, but he was too thrilled to have Harry with him to really pursue the argument. And if he tried to watch and see where Harry put his gift…that wasn’t cheating. Not really.
            But Dash got in the way, chasing Conflagration so that Draco had to watch them, and by the time he turned around again, Harry was already stepping away from the tree with empty hands and a smug smile.
            Draco sighed. He would get to open it later, he knew. But he had wanted to shake it and hold it and at least have some chance of guessing what it was.
            Maybe it was for the best, though. Harry didn’t get to do that with the thing Draco had got him. And Draco was already anticipating the expression on Harry’s face after the feast. This way, they would both get to see each other’s surprise at the same time.
            Dash curled around Draco’s feet as they all went over to the dining room for the Christmas feast. Draco looked down at him in surprise. He knew Dash liked him, but he didn’t know what this was for.
            Dash flicked a calm tongue against his hand, and then in the air, before he slithered over to Harry and positioned himself at his feet with an open mouth. Draco blinked. Dash could smell something on him that he liked?
            Well. It’s for the best, as Mother would say. It’s always good for the giant basilisk of the boy you like to like you, too.
*
            Lucius enjoyed the feast, and not only because there were dishes served here that had been served at every Malfoy feast during his life. He could remember his father nodding judiciously over the roasted goose. He could remember his mother hiding her smile when the elves added a little more cream to the scalded-cream-and-fruit pudding because Lucius had told them to.
            But now, he also had the addition of two more interesting people to watch.
            Black was interesting in his own warped way. He was more Black than he knew, Lucius thought, watching idly as he leaned over to speak to his godson with sparkling eyes and tried to find some way to prank the meal (impossible, when it appeared directly from the kitchens). Those moments were nothing next to the long stretches when he sat there with a melancholy face or laughed with a crazed edge to his voice.
            Narcissa was the one who had chosen to cultivate him. She hadn’t told Lucius all the details yet. Lucius trusted her, and would let it go, but he doubted it would prove worth the time she had invested, in the end.
            Mr. Potter was by far the more interesting. And not just for the way Draco’s face lit up when he looked at him.
            Lucius could have wished that his son had chosen a less…perilous partner. On the other hand, some of the things Lucius had learned in the past few months, as he maneuvered slowly among the Board of Governors and pieced together facts from news stories that would have meant nothing to anyone else, had told him that peril would come to his family in any case.
            The Dark Lord had returned. But in a shadowy form, one that would not allow him to reach out except through followers for the time being. And he sought to return more strongly.
            Lucius was also sure, from one of the letters that had reached him, that the Dark Lord’s insanity had not retreated.
            Lucius shook his head, and turned it into an obedient munching his way through a huge salad when Narcissa gave him a look. He was not to allow his musings to disrupt holidays, any more than he would Ministry commitments. That had been one of Narcissa’s rules from the earliest days of their marriage.
            Lucius had believed in and supported many of the Dark Lord’s ideals. But he had wanted to see those ideals achieved in a different way. If they had been able to take over the Ministry and the hearts of ordinary witches and wizards in the first war, well and good. But they had not.
            And now things had not changed. The Dark Lord would still do what he had done in the past to “win over” other people, instead of what Lucius thought should be done.
            Lucius eyed Harry Potter, who was currently dropping a tidbit of roasted goose into his snake’s mouth. At least he did it with some grace, and kept himself turned a little away from others, so that no one needed to watch who didn’t want to.
            There was someone else, though, who had achieved a small measure of political power and a larger measure of popular fame already. Someone who Lucius thought might do things Lucius wanted out of simple moral outrage, not because he had a family to benefit and lift into power as Lucius had himself.
            It was perhaps premature to assume that Harry Potter would ally himself with any larger political goals than simply surviving the war. But Lucius had made his decision that Potter was more likely to do that than the Dark Lord was to return to sanity.
            And so Lucius had another quest to fill his waking hours, besides finding the right way to take revenge on Moody, talking the Board of Governors around to his own opinion concerning Dumbledore, and finding out who would stand with him when it came to Potter and his possible political career. He must also find a way to remove the Dark Mark from his arm.
            Lucius never intended to be vulnerable again when the Dark Lord finally arose.
*
            Harry settled back in a daze amid the paper, shaking his head. Mrs. Malfoy had got him all sorts of handsome clothes even though she barely knew him. Mr. Malfoy had bought him several books on politics, and one on legends and myths about basilisks. Sirius had bought him everything he could need to take care of his broom, and a few things that Harry thought were Black heirlooms: heavy rings, a protective bracelet of sorts, a silver snake with its tail in its mouth that supposedly a Parselmouth could persuade to unclasp.
            Harry had got Sirius multiple gifts—including some of the new products that the twins were starting to sell for kids to prank people—but it was nothing compared to how much Sirius had given him. And he hadn’t thought of gifts for Draco’s parents at all, since he’d only known they were coming here for a few days. He hoped they wouldn’t be offended.
            But he hadn’t received anything from Draco, at least not yet. He hoped that meant Draco’s gift would be just one gift, and then Harry wouldn’t feel so bad about only getting him one thing, too.
            “Thank you,” Harry said now, eyes locked on his twisting hands. “I don’t have anything for you. I’m sorry.”
            “Commendable honesty,” said Mrs. Malfoy, leaning back a little on the thin, spindle-backed chair she’d conjured. Harry didn’t know why anyone wanted to sit in a thing like that, but then, he supposed all that mattered for some people was the way things looked, instead of how comfortable they actually were. “But you had not expected this, Harry. Try to make a gift of what you are, rather than what you could bring someone.”
            Harry stared at her. He didn’t really understand her, but he did know it seemed like a weird thing for a Malfoy to say to him.
            “What my wife means,” Mr. Malfoy added, also looking unconcerned over the lack of presents, “is that you have the potential to be a powerful leader, and your friendship for Draco is a gift for us, as well. You don’t have to worry about not returning equal measure for equal measure. Learn to think in terms other than Galleons.”
            “Er,” Harry said, and felt Dash, who was curling up amid the paper as if he thought it made a delightful nest, wrap his tail around Harry’s boot.
            I’ll explain it to you in more detail later. Say thank you graciously right now.
            “Thank you again,” Harry repeated, and glanced around for Draco. He’d left the room at some point while Harry was talking with his parents. It was only now that Harry saw him stagger back in, carrying some huge, strange-looking package.
            Harry started to stand up, but Draco glared at him, and he sat down again. Draco put the package proudly in the middle of the room, and said, “All right. This is unique.”
            Harry walked over to it, trying to figure out what it would be. It looked as if it had a few hoops, or huge rings, but also as if it was on a pedestal. Then again, with the gold paper in the way, he really couldn’t tell.
            Dash helped him open it, by slashing the paper near the bottom with his fangs. Harry finally cleared it away enough to lift out a huge metal—thing.
            It did have metal hoops, curling around each other in a spiral, resting beneath a sort of small desk made of wood. Above the desk was a mirror in an oval frame. Harry glanced at Draco. “Thank you. But—what is it?”
            A thing for basilisks! said Dash excitedly. He seemed to know something Harry didn’t. Watch!
            He reached out and flung his head and body over onto the hoops. Harry blinked and watched as he slithered easily up the hoops and onto the desk. It didn’t seem he could coil most of his body onto the small wooden platform, but then it shot out from the mirror and lengthened.
            “I had the people who made it cast Strengthening Charms, too,” Draco added. “So no matter how big Dash grows, he can always rest there and not chance falling off.”
            “Thank you,” Harry said softly, blinking. He watched as Dash leaned forwards to examine himself in the mirror. “And what’s that about?” He’d hardly thought someone would want to get a basilisk a mirror.
            “The mirror is its own kind of Foe-Glass,” Draco said. “Dash can watch enemies who are just his enemies in the mirror. It’s separate from you. He’ll always know who wants to harm him, at least when they’re close.” Draco hesitated, then added, “When you get close to it, though, it’ll show your enemies. And there’s a drawer underneath the desk where you can store valuable things, which will only open if you’re the one to touch the handle. So it’s for both of you.”
            I like it! Tell him thank you!
            Harry had to smile. “Thank you,” he said, and leaned forwards to hug Draco. Then he turned and picked up the package he’d brought for Draco. While it had been under the tree, it had picked up the illusion the Malfoys must have cast to make everything look like coins, and it had been silver. But on its own, it was wrapped in the paper with small flying Snitches that Harry had picked out himself. “And this is for you.”
            Draco seized the package and immediately ripped the paper apart. He paused when he got it open, though, mouth widening with awe, and turned the silver ring with a small dark green “stone” back and forth.
            “Is this what I think it is?”
            “I don’t know,” Harry said, deciding he could play dumb. “What did you think it was?”
            Draco glared at him, and Harry gave in and smiled a little. “It’s one of Dash’s scales, set into a ring. If you wear the ring, then you’ll be protected against all kinds of poisons. I found out about the enchantment a while ago, but I needed to wait until I could get Dash to help me with it. And some time to work on it privately,” he added. That hadn’t been easy with the way everyone wanted to watch one of the Tournament Champions.
            “Does that include Dash’s poison?”
            “Yes. Even if he bites you.”
            Draco grabbed Harry and hugged him so hard that Harry felt his neck start hurting. “Thank you, Harry.”
            It apparently meant a lot to him that Harry was willing to protect him even against Dash. Harry couldn’t really understand why, but he went with it. At least Draco was happy.
            From the way they smiled at him, so were the Malfoys. But in the bustle that followed, with the house-elves gathering up paper and Draco and his father talking about other traditions and Sirius looking around as though he wanted to prank people, Dash said, Mrs. Malfoy is peering at you.
            Harry looked back at Mrs. Malfoy. She smoothed down her robes at once, stood, and glided out of the room. Harry turned around. Draco was still getting distracted by Mr. Malfoy—deliberately, Harry realized now.
            And Sirius was just as deliberately keeping his head turned away.
            Harry swallowed and squared his shoulders. He had come here hoping to find out more about what Mrs. Malfoy wanted with Sirius. He could hardly blame her for taking the chance to speak to him.
            He followed, Dash a flowing tide of comfort around his feet.
*
moodysavage: Yes, Snape is going to press Sirius now. And Harry does think Snape cares about him, but he doesn’t realize that it would extend to challenging Sirius’s legal guardianship.
ChaosLady: Thank you!
Jester: Thank you!
SP777: Thanks!
I’ve only ever written fanfic for book fandoms. I find visual images extremely hard to “read” (I’m always getting them wrong, and it’s hard for me even to watch TV), so I tend to avoid visual canons.
moon: Even if it took me forever and a day to get here? ;)
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A Brother to Basilisks