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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 Sixty-Three—Ripples of Effect
            Draco sat back and slowly uncramped his fingers, sighing. He would have gone and been with Harry instead of writing to his parents, but Professor Snape had Harry in his quarters and wasn’t letting anyone near him right now.
            Draco looked over his letter to his father for the next few minutes. He couldn’t find any spelling mistakes, and he did draw his wand and dry the two ink blots he found. Father hated them. He said they disfigured a letter, and he got a look in his eyes when he talked about having to read disfigured letters that sometimes made Draco nervous.
            Conflagration slithered up beside Draco and looked at the parchment with him. Draco petted his head.
            Dear Father,
            I thought you should know that Professor Moody revealed himself to be Headmaster Dumbledore today in Harry’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He attacked Harry, according to Weasley, and Harry and Dash struck back with a magic that looked like blue flame. It melted the illusions ‘Moody’ had cast over the classroom, and also melted the magic that Dumbledore had disguised himself with.
            Also according to Weasley, Dumbledore said that the Tournament was a means of testing Harry, to make him strong in the fight against the Dark Lord. Professor Snape came and took Harry away then, so I don’t know what Harry thought of that because I haven’t seen him since. But Professor Snape is taking care of him.
            Yours,
            Draco.
            Draco sighed. There were certain things about the letter that weren’t satisfactory, like using Weasley as a source and not being sure whether the magic Dumbledore had been using was Polyjuice or just glamours.
            On the other hand, Weasley was Harry’s friend and thus a more reliable source in this case than he would be at other times, and Father would want to know the news immediately. Draco could send another letter later, when he’d talked to Harry and he knew the truth of certain details better.
            The ink had finally dried. Draco folded the letter and left the dorm for the Owlery.
            As he climbed, he thought back over the afternoon and had to admit it was decent of Weasley to come and find him so he could tell Draco the news right away. Draco would have to think of what he could do to punish Dumbledore for daring to do something like this to Harry, as well as doing something that would potentially deprive students like Draco of a real education in Defense.
            Draco couldn’t help but wish he could have talked to Granger, though. She would probably have remembered Dumbledore’s exact words, because her memory was annoyingly exact for things like that.
*
            Hermione’s hands were shaking. She forced herself to put down the quill for a second. Her hands were shaking so badly that she didn’t think she could have written with a pen, and it was a disaster with a quill.
            Finally, though, she beat back the anger a little, and that let her go on.
            Dear Governors of the Hogwarts Board,
            This is to inform you that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was impersonating Auror Alastor Moody as our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. His disguise melted when he attacked Harry Potter, a student, and Harry Potter’s bonded basilisk this morning in Defense.
            I have been gathering signatures for a petition against the supposed Professor Moody for some time, thanks to a bullying incident against another student earlier in the year. I request that you look at once into this incident and determine whether the Headmaster has the right to continue in his office.
            Yours sincerely,
            Hermione Granger,
            Student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
            That sounded good, and everything was in place, according to the book of advice on approaching official bodies that Hermione had read. It was formal, and it was brief, and it got right to the point. Hermione nodded and stood up.
            “I just can’t believe it,” said Ron, falling into step beside her as they headed up to the Owlery. “Dumbledore.”
            Hermione sighed and said nothing. She had responded to those words herself for a while, but she couldn’t think of anything new to say, and Ron had nothing new to say, either. He just wanted to repeat those words.
            “Why?”
            Hermione halted. That was the first time Ron had got over his shock to ask about reasons, she thought. She turned and looked him in the eye.
            “I think he meant what he said when Harry asked him,” she said. “I think Professor Dumbledore was trying to train Harry to face—” She took a deep breath. She had to be able to do this, she thought, or she was a huge coward, and she would sound stupid if she had to testify in front of the Board of Governors or the Wizengamot. “Voldemort.”
            Ron flinched so hard he almost fell off the steps. Hermione shot a hand out and grabbed his arm to rescue him.
            “Wow,” Ron breathed, staring at her. “You said it. You’re so brave.”
            Hermione could feel herself blushing so hard it was difficult to look Ron in the eye. She thought it best to just say, “Thanks,” and face up the stairs so she could walk again. She said over her shoulder, “But that doesn’t mean it was right.”
            “What was right?” Ron hurried after her around a twist in the stairs. Then they both had to wait while staircases above them shifted and swung around. Hermione frowned. Of course the way that the paths through the castle changed was part of the charm of Hogwarts, but at the same time, one could wish for a properly regulated castle that would lead to a more academic environment.
            “That Professor Dumbledore wanted to train Harry to face Voldemort.” The name was much easier to say this time, partially because Ron just watched her instead of saying anything. Hermione started up again as the way above them stabilized. “Why start now? Why do it as Moody? He could have done it a lot earlier and that would have been better.”
            “But Harry was just a kid.”
            “He’s just a kid now, really. And he still has to compete in the Tournament and fight duels with a professor who thinks that he has to destroy Voldemort all by himself, apparently.” Hermione sighed and turned to the right, finally emerging onto the top of the Owlery. “So I don’t think Professor Dumbledore did the right thing.”
            “What a coincidence, Granger. I don’t think he did, either.”
            Hermione still instinctively tensed when she heard Malfoy’s voice, waiting for him to start screeching “Mudblood” at her or something like that. But he didn’t, so she turned to him and nodded. “What are you doing here, Malfoy?”
            “Sending an owl to my father.” Malfoy nodded to a bird that was already winging off into the distance. “He wouldn’t forgive me if I waited to tell him.”
            “Do you think it’s going to do any good?” Hermione looked around. There was a brown owl sitting on a perch that shifted around when it saw her and spread its wings expectantly. Hermione nodded, and the owl glided over to her and took the letter in its beak, then swirled out one of the windows.
            “Good for what?” Malfoy was looking away from her, and Hermione thought he might still be watching his owl instead of paying attention to the actual people sharing the Owlery with him. Hermione rolled her eyes, but kept still. “I think that my father will finally have the potential to hurt Dumbledore in the Board of Governors. That ought to be enough.”
            “To do what, though? To change the way that Professor Dumbledore teaches the classes? To help Harry?”
            “To help Harry, of course.” Malfoy sounded surprised when he turned around. Perhaps he thought of helping Harry as the most important thing, Hermione decided. She hoped so. “And maybe to get rid of Dumbledore altogether, if my father plays his game right.”
            “But we don’t want to do that,” said Ron.
            Hermione looked at him for a second. Ron shrugged and shook his head. “No, you don’t,” he said, and if he felt the way Malfoy had turned around and was glaring at him, too, he didn’t let it shake him. “Dumbledore’s kept the school free of interference by the Ministry. If we get rid of him, then the next Headmaster is going to be someone Fudge appoints. Do you really want to deal with that?”
            “The school has a Board of Governors, too,” said Malfoy, and his jaw had clenched in a way that made Hermione thick it was going to start ticking in a minute. “They’ve been ignored too long. They’re supposed to have some input into the workings of the school. So is the Deputy Headmistress. And somehow I doubt McGonagall knew about this.”
            “Professor McGonagall,” Hermione had to correct.
            Malfoy didn’t respond, other than to say, “Well, do you think she did, Granger?”
            Hermione had to shake her head, but she was also determined to make her point. “Dumbledore’s made his own position untenable. I don’t see any way that anyone could forgive him—this. It’s going to haunt him no matter what happens, and if the Ministry or his allies tried to keep him on, then it would taint their reputations, too.”
            Malfoy nodded, a faint gleam in his eyes. “This is the kind of thing that my father has been waiting to happen for years. Dumbledore sometimes overextended himself, but never this badly.” He paused, and Hermione wondered what he was building himself up to. When Ron tried to say something else, Hermione pinched his arm.
            “I don’t think it’s going to change as drastically as you think,” Malfoy finally said. “McGonagall—Professor, fine, Granger—is probably going to become Headmistress, which won’t involve someone else from the outside coming in.”
            “That’s not what you were going to say,” said Hermione.
            Malfoy sighed. “You’re right. I don’t know if you can understand how drastically things will change. When I said that my father had been waiting for this chance for years, I meant it. But so were other people. And they’re the ones who are going to make this difficult.”
            “I thought you said things wouldn’t change.” Ron was moving forwards, his expression so challenging that Hermione was afraid of a duel.
            “Not inside Hogwarts,” said Malfoy. “Outside it. Dumbledore kept things in balance, but it was a balance that favored him and his kind of politics.” He looked from one of them to the other, and Hermione had the strange impression that he would have liked even more people to look at, to bounce his glance off.
            “Is that a bad thing, though?” Ron folded his arms. “That means Muggleborns get welcomed into our world instead of held outside.”
            Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying I want the Dark Lord to come back. Now that I’m on Harry’s side, that’s not something I can hope for anyway.”
            Ron stared at him. Hermione nodded slowly. It was something she had considered over the last year, both that Malfoy had probably been on Voldemort’s side before—or his family had—and that he wasn’t anymore.
            “I don’t think Muggleborns will get kicked out of the wizarding world.” Malfoy licked his lips, and Hermione could feel his excitement like a vise around her. “But things are going to change. It’s unusual for the Headmaster of Hogwarts to have that much power. It’s really only happened because people revere Dumbledore so much. He falls from that position of grace, what happens? The school becomes less important. The focus of the power probably shifts back to the Ministry, or to people whose location matters less than who they are and the kind of forces they can call on.”
            He looked at Hermione again. She understood at once. “You’re saying that Harry is going to be one of those people.”
            “I think he has to be,” said Malfoy, without a lot of emphasis in his voice.
            “He doesn’t have to be if he doesn’t want to!” Ron surged forwards, and Hermione was the one who held him back. She and Malfoy exchanged a glance, which was odd. It was the first time Hermione could remember feeling in accord with someone who wasn’t a professor or one of her two best friends. “He can do whatever he wants!”
            “The Dark Lord already limits what he can do with his life,” said Malfoy, in a flat tone. “And the people who think he’s the reincarnation of Slytherin will be more interested now. Especially when it comes out that Dumbledore planned some of this to focus on him personally. Someone who the Headmaster tries to manipulate must be important, they’ll think.”
            “They’re wrong!”
            Malfoy consulted the ceiling of the Owlery with a little sigh. “Have it your way, Weasley. But I think that helping Harry prepare for this sort of thing is a lot better than standing back and letting him suffer because of his own ignorance.” He glanced at Hermione. “You agree with me, Granger?”
            Hermione twitched a little. She didn’t want to agree with him. She wanted to agree with whatever option would give Harry the most privacy and the best chance to resist, and that didn’t sound like it would be Malfoy’s.
            But she thought Malfoy was also right that it would be better if Harry was prepared for these things, just like he would have to be for exams.
            “Yes,” she said, and shook her head when she saw the betrayed look Ron gave her. “I want to help Harry, Ron. Not help others. I’ll do whatever I can so he can keep his privacy and act the way he wants to. But he’ll have to act.”
            “Yes. You put it well, Granger.” Malfoy glanced once more into the sky, although Hermione knew both their owls had completely disappeared by this time. “I hope we can talk more about this in the future,” he added, and then went down the stairs.
            “It’s one thing for him to be Harry’s friend, and another for him to think he can control Harry!”
            “I don’t think he’s thinking that,” Hermione said.
            “Well, it sure as hell sounded like it!”
            Hermione spent the rest of the evening trying to soothe Ron, without much success. But that might have been because her mind was somewhere else. She hadn’t considered, until Malfoy spoke, how the people who thought Harry was the reincarnation of Slytherin were going to react to this revelation. She’d thought more about the other professors and what it would mean for Hogwarts.
            But now…
            Of course they’ll think they have to do something. Maybe they’ll think they have to protect Harry from Dumbledore. Maybe they’ll think that Harry should challenge him in court, or that Dumbledore should be taken off the Wizengamot.
            And Hermione wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Punishing people who had done wrong was one thing. Rewarding people who thought that all Muggleborns should be kicked out of the wizarding world was another.
*
            Lucius closed his eyes and spent a moment silently meditating, banishing the fierce joy that had bathed him since he received Draco’s letter to the back of his mind. Granted, he had acted quickly. He had written letters to several people on the Board of Governors, told Narcissa, and spent an hour deciding what he should do in the three hours since then.
            But he was fairly sure that no one, however closely they were watching him, would have considered he’d do this.
            When his joy was under control and he wouldn’t start laughing the woman’s face, he raised his fist and knocked on Minerva McGonagall’s door.
            It opened at once, and she didn’t even look surprised to see him. Her face was craggy and distant, as though she’d just got word that she had a terminal illness she’d have to struggle against without the help of magic. “Yes, Mr. Malfoy?”
            “May I come in?” Lucius kept his voice as calm and non-confrontational as he could. “I know you have a lot to deal with, but I suspect I may be able to ease your burden in some ways.”
            For a moment, McGonagall looked at him as if she doubted that, but she also didn’t tell him to leave. She simply stepped back with a nod, and Lucius strolled in and spent a moment looking around her office.
            It was worth looking at. The opposite of Dumbledore’s office, which Lucius admittedly had only seen a few times since the madman became Headmaster. McGonagall had her share of books, but they all stood neatly on a shelf, alphabetical by author. There was a tartan on one wall; even that looked tastefully restrained. A few photographs stood on the shelves, of no one Lucius knew, and there was a small silver stand on her desk for holding her eyeglasses.
            “If you are done with your visual tour of my office, perhaps we can move on to what you came for, Mr. Malfoy.”
            Lucius turned around, not allowing her words to hurry him, and inclined his head. “I was only thinking that this office would make a proper one for the Headmistress of Hogwarts.”
            McGonagall made a single sharp motion with her elbows, before she pulled them back in to her sides. “Nothing is decided yet, Mr. Malfoy. It will need the official sanction of the Board of Governors as well as the other professors. And it will need the right procedures to be brought against Albus,” she added after a second.
            “I can speak for the Board of Governors. They will support you unanimously. Indeed, there is no other serious candidate for the position. And I will be one of the ones bringing charges against Dumbledore, so you don’t need to worry about that, either.”
            “Charges for what?”
            “For hurting my son while in the guise of Professor Moody.”
            For some reason, McGonagall looked sad for a moment. “I could have told him that would backfire on him,” she whispered. “If he had only trusted any of us, asked our approval of this mad plan…”
            “The fact that he didn’t seek approval is one sign of how mad it was.” Lucius put his hands behind his back and waited a moment for McGonagall to stop staring into the distance, and look at him instead. When she did, he nodded and asked, “Would you object so much to taking up the position of Headmistress?”
            “It’s not that I would object, as that I want to have the support behind me. If I don’t, then saying I would take the position would be useless.”
            “Yes, I understand.” Lucius made a slow circuit of the office, this time studying the spines of her books more closely. They were almost all Transfiguration titles. “Even if I find it hard to think of a better candidate.”
            “There are other people who might have their own ideas.”
            “Yes. Well.” Lucius turned around. “If I said that I am prepared to negotiate with those who do and run circles around them until I get what I want, then what would you say?”
            McGonagall’s eyes gave a slight gleam. “That you seem to want a tame Headmistress more than you want an ally, and your support might cost more than I could realistically give if I was going to be a good ally to the school.”
            Lucius laughed a little. “I don’t want you tame, as you put it. I want you financially independent, in fact, so that you can stand up to a probe from the Ministry if one comes. But it wouldn’t hurt to have someone on your side on the Board of Governors?”
            “Can I be sure that we’re on the same side, Mr. Malfoy?”
            “We want Albus Dumbledore removed from power. We want the students to come first, not war or the games that Albus Dumbledore thinks necessary to play. And we want Harry Potter safe.”
            Lucius knew he was taking a gamble on revealing his alliance with Potter, but on the other hand, he thought it reassured McGonagall as few other things could have. She frankly gaped at him. “You—you want Harry Potter safe?” In spite of herself, Lucius thought, she glanced at his left arm.
            “He is my ally and my son’s best friend. I hate to think of how I would answer to Draco if I let Harry get hurt.”
            McGonagall was silent, considering. Lucius knew that, and didn’t rush her. While he couldn’t occupy himself with another journey around the office—it would be absurd considering the room’s small size—he could gaze out the enchanted window that showed a view of the Quidditch pitch. He stood there, remembering past Slytherin victories, until McGonagall cleared her throat again.
            When he turned, she had her hands braced on her desk. “I provisionally accept your alliance,” she said.
            “Good.” Lucius knew not to smile too widely or otherwise act like he had expected this outcome. “Then may I have your permission to represent you before the Board of Governors as the best, the wisest, the only choice for Headmistress?”
            “You may.” McGonagall paused, then added, “You know what I’ll do if I find out that you’ve misrepresented my position.”
            “Of course.” Lucius gave a little bow, and then turned and left. He suspected it would be a formal challenge to a duel at the least, and that was something he wanted to avoid. McGonagall was a formidable witch in her own right.
            But for now, the joy was so soaring…
            Yes. This is one thing I’ve wanted, and now it’s mine.
*
            Blaise leaned his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes. He couldn’t think if his head was whirling. He had to get his thoughts under control and decide what he was going to do if one set of rumors was true, yes, but he also had to decide about the other set.
            If Moody was really Dumbledore trying to play some trick with Potter, then Blaise would have to be prepared to move. Not against Dumbledore, but against Potter. Potter would gain more power from this, more prestige, and if he took up the cause of abused children again, there was the chance that someone might pay more attention and find out about Blaise’s past.
            If the rumors were exaggerated, or this was Dumbledore doing something that Potter had already known about, Blaise could relax for a little while.
            But he didn’t have enough information to distinguish one scenario from the other, and honestly, he doubted he should relax. If he was too paranoid, then he could recover more easily than if he wasn’t paranoid enough and the trouble bit him on the arse later.
            So he started a letter to the person who had written to him before, the one that Blaise had exchanged several letters with before now. Blaise didn’t think he had the same motives as this person; the letter-writer seemed, if Blaise was going to make a guess, more worried about what would happen if Potter gained specifically Slytherin followers, or allies who had been Slytherins when they were at Hogwarts. Blaise didn’t want Potter to get too powerful generally and too many investigations pursued into child abuse in pure-blood families because of what would turn up.
            What has to be kept secret, if I want to live.
            But that didn’t matter as long as they could work profitably together, and Blaise thought they could.
            My friend,
            You might be interested to know that Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter’s relationship is romantic devotion, at least on Draco’s side. Draco also wrote a letter in the Slytherin common room and left for the Owlery with it less than an hour after the dramatic revelation in today’s Defense class. I’m sure that letter was to his father…
*
            MzPurpleMist: Thank you! In fact, I never had any intention of this staying quiet; for one thing, there were just too many people in that class who saw Dumbledore revealed. What’s going to be rare are full understandings of what’s going on; lots of people will have partial ideas, and there will be unsubstantiated rumors flying around.
            SP777: I don’t mention Conflagration much because he’s not a major character, but here you are. A mention just for you. ;)
            tony5021: Thank you!
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A Brother to Basilisks