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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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Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Sixty-One—A Dance With Moody
            “Are you all right?”
            Harry just nodded a little. Hermione had asked that constantly since school started again, but Harry didn’t think he could resent her for it. She had the right to ask, and she seemed willing to believe he was okay some of the time, instead of asking him again five minutes later, the way Snape did.
            “Okay.” Hermione gave him a single worried smile before she faced the front of the room again.
            Professor Moody was late. Harry couldn’t remember that ever happening before. On his lap, and wrapped around the base of his chair, Dash said simply, It’s interesting, isn’t it?
            Not interesting unless you tell me what you mean by that.
            Listen and learn.
            Harry was about to reply when the door opened and Professor Moody strode in, his wooden leg clicking. He dropped a pile of rope and bricks onto his desk. Harry knew he wasn’t the only one staring in surprise and lack of comprehension.
            It’s interesting, said Dash, and twined his way up the chair until his head was resting on Harry’s shoulder and he could clearly see what Moody was doing. I wonder if he’s going to fling them at people to test Shield Charms.
            Moody turned his head slowly, as if he wanted to give his magical eye the chance to look at all of them. Harry flinched a little when it passed over him, but Moody didn’t stare harder at him or Dash than he did at anyone else. He just grunted and nodded, then sat down in his chair.
            “You need to learn how to cast spells in different environments,” he said, and this time, his eye did swing back around and focus on Harry and Dash.
            Do you know what he means by that? Harry asked, petting Dash but making it look like he was just straightening his elbow on the desk. Or at least, he hoped it looked that way. Dash kept telling him he was bad at lying about all the things that mattered and good at concealing the things that people should know.
            No.
            Harry could feel the shadow of a frown in Dash’s voice, and knew he wasn’t hiding the truth to tease, the way he had been when he knew about Draco fancying Harry. They just had to wait for now, though, since neither of them had any idea what Moody was talking about.
            “We’ll begin with an environment that illusions can create,” Moody announced. He stood back and began passing his wand through the air, muttering to himself. Harry listened hard, but he couldn’t hear the words, and neither could Dash; he had to use their bond to hear sounds, anyway.
            The air around them dimmed, and Harry could hear some of the other students muttering to themselves. Harry leaned back in his desk and stared up at the ceiling, and saw the stone darkening and turning green and black. When he looked to the sides, there were huge trees there, their roots tearing up the stone floor. Harry couldn’t see the walls. This was just a forest, and they seemed to be in the middle of a huge stretch of it with no houses for miles and miles.
            Harry shivered a little. Aunt Petunia had once threatened to abandon him in a forest like this. She had said that he would starve to death before he could find his way back to anyone who would want him. Or get eaten by wolves.
            Someday I must introduce your relatives to my poison.
            Harry turned around and glared down at Dash. I told you not to bite anyone. Especially not now that your poison is back to full strength.
            I still want to. And idle speculations aren’t the same as promising to do it. Dash’s tongue extended, longer than Harry remembered it being, and brushed across his cheek. And it got you to stop thinking about the Dursleys, didn’t it?
            Harry frowned and nodded. But he still would have said something sharp to Dash if Moody hadn’t stepped back in front of them. His face had a strange expression on it. Like he was enjoying the way everyone was clumping together.
            “A forest is not the same as a classroom. And from now on, we’re going to be practicing our spells in this kind of environment. It’s the only way you’ll ever learn about war, really learn about it. You’re not going to be running through Hogwarts performing the kinds of spells that would keep you safe from Death Eaters. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!”
            Harry jumped at the sound and clutched Dash without thinking about it. Dash gently tapped his tongue against Harry’s cheek again and murmured, He hasn’t changed it as much as you think. The only illusions are visual. Everything still smells the same. And if you reach down and touch what you’re sitting in, I think you’ll find that it feels like a desk.
            Harry did, and then nodded. To his eyes, it was a stump, but he could still feel the back even though he couldn’t see it. He stood up slowly. Then what’s the real point of this? I mean, he said that we aren’t going to be in a classroom, but we still are. It’s just harder to see and keep from running into things.
            Moody probably has no problem, with that magical eye of his. Dash slithered around Harry’s feet as he stood up. But maybe this is intended as a lesson in humility or something like that. Dash stretched most of his length along the forest floor in front of Harry. I find myself disinclined to listen to such a lesson.
            Harry tensed despite himself. What are you going to do, Dash? Moody had turned to face the rest of the class and had his hand lifted, as though he was going to make a teaching gesture or show them a new spell. Harry looked up and found he still had no idea what was going on behind that magical eye.
            Keep you from stumbling over things. Link with me.
            We’re already linked, Harry began in confusion, but a second later, he found out what Dash meant. Things shifted in the back of his head, the same way they had when Dash was helping Harry with his wandless magic. Then Harry was drifting along somewhere deep and dark, with stars rushing past him.
            Where is this, Dash?
            A place that’s always existed for me, said Dash simply, and Harry felt the reassuring touch of his tongue. I didn’t realize until I was a little older that you didn’t perceive it the same way I did. This is the deep bond.
            Harry breathed slowly in and out. At least he could still breathe. And he had an understanding that flowed into him through his bond with Dash, the way that Dash could pick up on the meaning of English words he read through his link with Harry: This is the place that some of your magic comes from.
            Yes. Although I’m not sure that it’s a place. Or perhaps only one that exists in the same way a dream exists. It’s real while you’re there.
            Harry started to ask something else, but strong pressure pushed him back up, and he found himself bobbing on the surface of his own mind with Dash next to him, entwined with him, part of him in ways that not even their bond had made him aware of before. When Harry looked around, he did it with Dash’s senses.
            Most of the time, Dash was the one who made do with Harry’s senses, instead; otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to hear at all, or understand English. But there were some advantages of doing it the other way around, Harry thought. He could feel the vibrations pounding through Dash’s body as feet hit the ground and Moody stumped along (his wooden leg was particularly distinctive). He could smell—
            Wood and stone and ink, the scents of a classroom. They hadn’t changed in any way. There were no leaves or dirt or wild things that Harry would have expected to smell in a real forest.
            Do people just not change the smells because they don’t know about them? he asked Dash as he moved slowly around his desk to join one of the lines of students Moody was organizing. Dash was firm about the line facing Moody being the best option. Harry could understand why. He did it, although he shivered for a second as he stood with his back to the darkness between the trees.
            Not know about them, and don’t perceive them well enough. If you cast a spell to hide something you can’t scent, how are you even going to tell it worked?
            Harry nodded slowly. He could see that.
            “You’re here, too, Harry?” Harry could still hear Ron’s voice, but it was muffled and distant, secondhand, the way it must be for Dash most of the time. He was standing in the line next to Harry, trying to look brave and failing. “I know what Moody means. We just need to learn in different environments. But did he have to make it so scary?”
            Harry smiled at Ron. “It’s still the same classroom underneath. That’s what Dash says.” His voice echoed in his head in an odd way, like it was traveling down bones instead of through the air. “So we could still bump into desks, but there aren’t any bears or werewolves here.”
            “Oh. Good.” Ron spoke weakly, staring at Harry. “Is something wrong, mate?”
            “I’m—”
            Harry meant to say something about “deeply bonded with Dash,” because he doubted that would give everything away to Moody, or even much of anything. But Moody called harshly, “You’re expected to defend yourselves from me! First person to bring me down gets fifteen points for their House and no homework! The rest of you will be writing twelve inches on why you didn’t defeat me.”
            Then he began to cast curses at the line of students Harry was in. The fire caught on an illusion of a tree and began to burn. Harry heard Hermione say something desperate, and the fire smoldered to a sullen stop. The tree showed a long burn down the trunk in response.
            Fake, right? Harry asked, as Dash told him to back up and around a desk that looked like a low stump. It was really much taller under the illusion, and would give him better camouflage from some of the curses that Moody was casting than it looked like.
            Yes. His illusions are powerful and flexible enough to reflect damage. In reality, he’s burned part of the desk. Dash flowed with Harry, his head up and his head cocked in an interested way at Moody. He’s really much more skilled than he looks. I sort of wonder how he lost the duels that meant he needs to wear a wooden leg and a magical eye.
            Maybe he wasn’t as good then.
            Perhaps—
            “Catch, Potter! Capio mentem!”
            Harry swayed. It felt like someone had punched him in the side of the head. Dudley had actually done that once, and so Harry’s first thought was that Moody had tossed a rock at him or something.
            But no. There was something moving through his head, through his bond with Dash. Harry coughed and spluttered, reaching up to claw at his temples. It was horrible, like he could actually feel a fungus growing with him and over his thoughts, and—
            He does not know what he has done, said Dash, in a strange, gleeful voice, and then he smashed through the spell on Harry’s mind.
            Harry gasped and reeled for a second. He saw Hermione staring at him in shock, and she was reaching out a hand, but then he caught himself on something—
            A chair.
            --And opened his eyes. He was facing Moody, who had come forwards one step and was studying him carefully. Dash was coiled around Harry’s feet, his eyelids quivering in the way they did when he was considering opening them.
            He tried to take over your mind. But it doesn’t work when your mind is joined with mine in the deep bond. It was like trying to grab a leaping dolphin. Dash laughed wildly in the back of his thoughts, in a way Harry had never heard before. He doesn’t know what’s going on. Let’s surprise him, shall we?
            Before Harry could even guess what Dash would try, he was flowing forwards, and Harry found himself pulled after him. Dash was hissing steadily, a sound that poured over all the people there. Harry could see Ron’s eyes wide with shock, and Ron was as used to Dash as anybody.
            This isn’t something anyone can get used to.
            I still don’t know exactly what you’re planning on doing, Harry complained.
            You wouldn’t. Draco sounded delighted, not contemptuous. Relax your mind for a moment, Harry, and let me access all your magic as well as my own.
            Harry wondered for a second if he should. But he was getting more and more cautious around Moody, and he had no idea what the man had really meant to do when he’d grabbed hold of Harry’s mind like that. He’d thought Moody wouldn’t try anything like that after the Imperius Curse.
            He settled back and gave control of his magic to Dash.
*
            Hermione had already known something was unusual about the way Harry was reacting to the forest. He grabbed things that weren’t there and didn’t keep glancing over his shoulder into the shadows the way that most of the rest were. But she hadn’t expected him to charge Professor Moody.
            There was a glassy flicker of blue light traveling all over him, and Dash. Hermione dazedly supposed that he was using some magic she hadn’t heard of before; around Dash, that seemed pretty common. But he hadn’t said anything or made a gesture with his wand, either.
            The blue light was building into blue fire. And Professor Moody was backing away. He did it slowly. Hermione wondered if she was the only one who noticed, or who really knew what the expression on his face meant. He was afraid.
            You’re probably the only one who does know.
            Dash and Harry was pretty close to Professor Moody by now. The blue fire reached out and snapped towards him. Professor Moody countered with a shield that Hermione thought was perfect, and that was amazing. She had read about that charm in the advanced textbooks in the library, and all of them said how impossible it was to perform that charm right the first time—
            Dash and Harry’s blue fire broke through the shield as though it was air.
            The blue fire wrapped around Professor Moody and dragged him a little forwards. Hermione found herself squinting. She thought for a second it was just the brightness of the fire.
            But then she realized it was more than that. The trees of the forest were melting! The illusions were fading, and the roots that had torn up the floor settled back into nothingness. Hermione could see the desks and chairs again. This time, she knew what Harry had caught himself on when he stumbled.
            The fire did something different to Professor Moody.
            He was fighting it. For a second, Hermione saw him standing there in what looked like a tent of magic. There was a big transparent shield over him, and part of him was melting like the trees had, and some of his fingers looked different lengths on the same hand. His face wavered back and forth. He had a long white tail growing out of his chin. He had two real eyes, not a magical one—
            I thought he might be using Polyjuice, Hermione thought, in a part of her brain that always seemed to be calm and thinking, except for a few times when she’d been afraid for Ron and Harry’s lives. I never heard of this means of getting rid of it, though.
            The struggle went on for a few more seconds. Then Professor Moody’s magical eye bounced across the floor towards the desks in the front row, and his wooden leg went spinning after it. Hermione heard shrieks of disgust.
            That’s Parvati, Hermione thought. But part of her wanted to shriek herself, as she stood there and stared at the man who had been Polyjuiced as Professor Moody and wearing his eye and leg.
            It was Professor Dumbledore.
*
            Severus snapped his head up. There was wild magic in Hogwarts, alien magic battering at the school’s defenses. He could feel the ripple of it traveling across his being, plus the alarm spells that Albus had cast to link Severus to the school when he became Head of Slytherin.
            Severus had felt nothing so strange since the concentrated mass of evil that had hovered over him the night he took the Dark Mark, and his first thought was that the Dark Lord had somehow won entrance into the school.
            The next second, a portrait appeared in an empty frame Severus kept in his office for emergencies, and began to stammer. “S-sir! Disturbance in the Defense classroom, Professor Dumbledore is requesting your attendance immediately—”
            Severus had made sure that he memorized Harry’s schedule without being obvious about it. He knew which class Moody would be teaching right now.
            He kept his face calm as he nodded. The portrait, a young man with blond hair that made Severus almost sure he was related to the Malfoys somehow, nodded back, and then turned and vanished through the side of the frame, presumably to warn someone else.
            Severus stood and gathered up the few battle potions he could use in Hogwarts’s environment. Most of them would make someone sleep if the bottle got dropped on the ground and they inhaled the fumes.
            One, one only, would do something else.
            Severus made sure that one was well-protected in its pocket, and then turned and walked towards the Defense classroom. His face was still calm, but he only walked because of the potions, and the one that could not be jostled.
*
            Harry rose slowly out of the bond he shared with Dash. It had been so deep that it had been like a dream, the way Dash said that deep place was. Harry couldn’t really say what he had been doing the last few minutes, except moving and using magic.
            He opened his eyes, and found that Dumbledore was in front of him and Hermione was yelling at him and half the students in the class were standing there with shocked expressions on their faces. Harry looked around instinctively for Moody. It was likely that he hadn’t been able to handle Harry and Dash’s magic and that meant he’d called for Dumbledore—
            Except Moody wasn’t there. His leg and eye were on the floor, but he wasn’t there.
            He came out of Moody. He was Moody.
            Harry turned slowly back to Dumbledore. Realization was hitting him like cold water running down from his head. He had no idea what he was going to do when he realized fully, but right now, all he could do was stand still and stare.
            Dash waved gently back and forth between him and Dumbledore. There was no notion in his head of moving further, Harry thought. That was good. It meant he wouldn’t attack Dumbledore, or anyone else—
            But it also meant that he wasn’t going to move and let Harry talk to Dumbledore, either. And Harry knew he had to talk to Dumbledore.
            Dash. Let me through.
            No. What can he possibly say that would explain his actions? And you don’t need to listen to the excuses he’s going to offer instead of explanations.
            Harry would have snapped something back, but he saw movement towards the door. He turned his head and saw Snape standing there, one hand on the doorframe. He was looking around the classroom with little snaps of his head, and Harry wondered how long he’d been there and how he’d got there.
            He was fast, said Dash, sounding impressed. I would have sent a shadow-snake for him if he didn’t come, but he got here before I could.
            “Headmaster?”
            Snape had walked into the Defense classroom now. He was standing in between Harry and Dumbledore, or maybe in between Dash and Dumbledore; it was sort of hard to tell. Harry shivered. The realization was starting to hit him now.
            Dumbledore sighed once and looked at Harry as if no one else was there. He whispered, “I’m sorry. I did what I thought was best, and tested you because I had to know how well you would fight against Voldemort.” A few of the other kids cried out in fear when they heard the name, but Harry couldn’t even look at them; he was busy looking at Dumbledore. “I thought the Tournament was a means of doing that. And of seeing how your bondmate had affected your magic.” He nodded at Dash.
            Harry said nothing. He couldn’t find any words that wouldn’t make him scream. He stood there and stared at Dumbledore instead, and the moments when no one would say anything stretched, and stretched, and stretched. Dumbledore was the one who finally cleared his throat and said something else.
            “Will you let me say that your magic was some of the most impressive I have ever seen in my life?”
            Harry turned away without saying anything. Snape was there, and put a steadying hand on his shoulder. Dash was even steadier, curling around Harry’s feet the way he did.
            “I will speak with you later, Headmaster,” Snape said over his shoulder, and led Harry out of the room among the babbling chatter of the other students, just starting.
*
SP777: I think you’re right about Snape.
I don’t think Hit Wizards necessarily have to kill, though they might.
            MzPurpleMist: Thank you! The thread about Blaise will be coming back to life, but I wanted to get the Moody issue resolved first.
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A Brother to Basilisks