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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.

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Chapter Seventy—Tracked Down

            Blaise shook his head a little as he funneled the last of the poison off Draco’s bed and into a flask he had standing ready for it. It was possible that this trick wouldn’t kill Potter’s basilisk and he would have to try over again with a different one. If that was the case, then he would make sure he had enough left.

            Everyone else had left the bedroom, but that only made it easier. Blaise capped the flask and slid it into his pocket.

            He was most of the way across the common room when he heard the screams. Blaise paused and drew his wand. Maybe it was just that people had found Potter’s basilisk dead, but he wanted to be prepared in case—

            The door burst open, and several students standing near it and talking to each other leaped out of the way. Draco burst through, staring around. He caught Blaise’s eye. His face twisted.

            “There he is!” he almost stammered, pointing his finger. “You have to do something, Dash, you have to—”

            The basilisk slid into the common room too, and even the screams that told Blaise other people found it as frightening as he did didn’t comfort him. He found himself taking a step away and pressing his back against a chair.

            As if that would do anything, he thought a second later, in his mother’s voice, and her face appeared in his head, shaking her head slowly. She would have told him to never do anything that admitted guilt.

            The basilisk edged towards him. Blaise thought about casting a spell and running, but there were too many people in the way, and Draco was right there, bouncing his wand and looking as though he would burst out shouting. He might cry, too, but Blaise was afraid that too many of the shouts would be curses.

            He only had one chance that would really work. Blaise tried to look more scared than he was and waited.

            The basilisk reared up, and up. Blaise was in its shadow now as it swayed over him. He didn’t know if it was close enough, but this was probably the only chance he would get before it lunged.

            He took the flask from his pocket and threw it as hard as he could. The glass would shatter, the poison would get on the basilisk’s scales and be visible but if it killed the snake that was the end of any political power Potter had, his power would shatter and his allies would desert him and Blaise would be safe, and his friend had promised through the letters that he would protect him—

            “Accio flask!”

            The flask sped over to Draco’s reaching hand instead. And the poison was harmless to humans. Blaise found his head falling back and his eyes closing before he even considered what he should do next.

            “Are you going to kill me?” he asked.

            Draco said nothing, but walked up to him. Blaise opened his eyes in time to see Draco’s fist coming at him.

            A dark green coil wrapped around Draco’s arm and tugged him back just before his punch would have hit Blaise. Then the basilisk, which had part of its body holding Draco, reared the rest, including its head, up to confront Blaise.

            Blaise was so afraid he couldn’t scream or move. He just stood there. He thought any second the basilisk would lunge and bite him, or open its eyes. He hoped it was the eyes. That would be quicker and less painful than the death by poison. You just died, as far as he knew.

            But the basilisk didn’t do either of those things. It turned and unleashed another great coil, letting Draco go. Blaise got wrapped up from his neck to his legs, and his wand arm was pinned at his side. He breathed shallowly, not so much because he had to as because he knew what was going to happen if he tried to break free. The basilisk motioned with its head to Draco, and Draco ran out of the common room.

            Then the basilisk rearranged itself and began to move, rolling Blaise along over its back, like he was a yo-yo.

            Blaise closed his eyes. Maybe they would kill him before too long and spare him further humiliation that way. He had a reputation that wouldn’t recover from so many Slytherins seeing him hauled like luggage.

            Then again, when have Potter and his ilk been that kind?

*

            Severus bent over Conflagration and studied the colors rising up from his mouth. There was a simple spell that made the fumes of any poison visible and forced them to assume certain colors revealing their ingredients, rarely used except by Potions brewers. This one, he thought he could unravel.

            Though perhaps not fast enough to keep the snake from dying.

            Severus put the supposition from his mind, ignoring the way Harry hovered beside him. Yes, it was possible that he would need to give Harry and Draco bad news in the end. But letting himself get distracted by that possibility was the best way to ensure that he wouldn’t save Conflagration.

            In the end, he reached straight for the flask that contained a bezoar. The poison was indeed a complex one, with half the deadliness coming from the ingredients that forced it to change color on cloth, and Severus had no time to be sure he could reverse it.

            “What’s that?”

            “A bezoar,” Severus murmured, taking it out. He could not simply use it on an animal, either, given the different way animal bodies responded to most poisons. But he could do what he did then, which was to chip off a small piece of the bezoar and toss it into a cauldron already waiting, filled with water. When he cast the Warming Charm, the water began to boil, dancing and lifting a veil of shimmering heat above the cauldron. In a few seconds, the water turned the dark purple color Severus had known to expect.

            “Will it save Conflagration?”

            “Maybe,” said Severus, not taking his eyes from the boiling water. He wouldn’t lie to Harry, but neither was he going to deprive him completely of comfort. Besides, this was the truth. It might work. Severus had only once before done something like this, and that was for a private competition that had taken place between him and a brewer who had claimed to have greater skills than Severus’s.

            And that had been using a bezoar on a goat, the animal it had come from in the first place. Whether it could save a snake…

            A magical snake, a flame cobra, a personal pet—all and any of those factors might complicate the potion. But Severus set them from his mind, and concentrated on procedure. That was the best way to make sure he had a chance. He filled the boiling water with salt, for purity, and set the water to dancing even faster with fire. His mind flickered with ideas, part memory of the competition, part instinct.

            When the water was boiling to the point that it nearly overflowed the lip of the cauldron, Severus Levitated the entire thing into the air and cast several straining charms. The cauldron, as it began to spill, passed the potion inside directly through Severus’s magic. What splashed down and into an iron pot standing ready on the floor was thick purple glop, not so much potion as mush, that glowed with an inner white heart.

            “What’s that?” Harry whispered.

            Again Severus had no time to reply. He gathered several scoops of the mush up in his hand and turned around, driving his fingers down Conflagration’s throat, between the fangs. He snatched his hand back at once, wary as the snake began to convulse. It would be the height of ridiculousness to get poisoned by the cobra now, when Severus might be on the verge of saving him.

            The cobra continued thrashing, and Harry’s hand was pressed hard enough on Severus’s elbow that Severus was near losing feeling in the arm. He moved a little to dislodge it while still standing near enough that he could feel the tremors shaking Harry. He understood what it would mean to Harry if the pet cobra he had bought for Draco died.

            And he could understand, too, what it would mean for something else to be killed by what had been meant for Harry and Dash.

            Severus was the one who first saw signs of hope, in the way that Conflagration’s tail had begun to tap a pulsebeat independent from the rest of his body. Harry cried out and reached, hissing in Parseltongue, as if he thought the snake was dying finally and he could comfort him for it. Severus barred Harry’s hand with one arm and shook his head.

            “He is moving that part on his own,” he said, when Harry still tried to break past the restraint despite what Severus had thought would be a reassuring touch.

            Harry stood motionless then, his eyes so wide that Severus found it hard to look at them. He studied the flame cobra instead, and was rewarded when his head turned up and his jaws parted around the flickering tongue.

            Harry again said something in the snake language. This time, the cobra answered, although even after overhearing several conversations between Harry and Dash, Severus was no nearer learning what they said.

            “It’s strange,” Harry said a minute later. “He has something almost like an accent on his Parseltongue. He didn’t have that before.”

            “It is possible the poison will have lingering side-effects,” Severus said. In fact, it was almost certain, but although he had again wanted to speak the truth, he winced and wished he had kept quiet when Harry turned around and stared at him.

            “What kind? Will he ever get better? Will it make him bite Draco or other people or make it harder for him to control his flame?” Harry demanded in rapid-fire succession.

            Severus held up his hand, and thankfully, Harry fell silent to listen to him. “I do not know,” Severus said. “I have not actually encountered this particular poison before, only ones that have some of the same ingredients. Yes, it is possible that Conflagration may have a malformation in his body or intelligence. It should not make him lose control of his magic, however, as that is one of the most prominent and immediate side-effects and it would have happened already. I do not think that he should bite people more often. That would be a side-effect of temperament, a different thing.”

            Harry was nodding slowly. He started to say something else, but the door to Severus’s office burst open then, and Draco came in. He had kicked the door open so violently that Severus had thought he would be running, but he marched in a funeral way instead, his eyes focused straight ahead.

            Behind him was Dash, and the prisoner in his coils made Severus want to close his eyes. Blaise Zabini. So Harry was right. He trusted Zabini to be the real culprit and not one Dash had simply seized in order to satisfy his own desire for a found enemy, if only because that would mean leaving the real enemy out there to strike again.

            Harry began staring at Dash in the intense way that meant they were communicating down the bond. Draco immediately sidled up to Severus and stared down at Conflagration. Then he held out his hand.

            “He will live,” Severus told him.

            Conflagration crept up Draco’s arm to his shoulder and turned so he was resting with his head pointing towards Draco’s wrist. Draco closed his eyes and stood there. Except that he wasn’t a Parselmouth, Severus might have imagined them communicating in the same way as Harry and Dash.

            “I did not recognize the exact poison, but I found the right antivenin by taking a chip off a bezoar,” Severus went on. He was a little unnerved by the expression on Draco’s face. Talking would help him deal with his own feelings, although he did not think Draco would ever want to know how to brew that particular poison. “I think he will be well soon, although Harry said that he had an accent in his Parseltongue speech now. If you should see any large changes in his activity or understanding—”

            Draco turned around and hugged him.

            Severus stood there, his hand frozen in the air. If this was Harry, he would have lowered his hand to pat his back, or even clutched him back in triumph. But Draco had parents, and Severus did not know how to act around him.

            “Thank you,” Draco whispered. “Thank you for saving him. I hope—if there’s ever anything I can do for you, then let me know.” He stepped back, wiping his eyes.

            Harry and Dash were still engaged in staring at each other, and Severus did not think Harry would notice when he spoke. “There is.”

            “Already?” Draco stared at him.

            Severus held his gaze. “Always act as promptly and vigilantly as you did today against Harry’s enemies in Slytherin. You know, now, that he has them, that not all the people who might think that he is Salazar Slytherin’s reincarnation will welcome the fact.”

            Draco’s lips parted a little, and he glanced at Blaise. “Well, of course I knew the ones with Death Eater families wouldn’t. But—”

            “Until recently, you were one of those yourself,” Severus finished in weary understanding. Draco had probably been holding back almost subconsciously from spying on his classmates because his own father had changed his position on Harry so dramatically. Draco would think it was possible for other people. “But Mr. Zabini’s mother has never supported the Dark Lord, has she?”

            Draco shook his head. “Not that I know of. In fact, I always thought she would take Blaise and leave the country if the Dark Lord ever threatened her. That’s something he said to me one time.”

            Severus nodded back. “Then you should be responsible for watching out for enemies like Blaise who might strike unexpectedly. I do not mean to make you solely responsible. I am your Head of House and perhaps more likely to notice oddities among your fellow Slytherins than you would. But when you get a chance, watch for them.”

            Draco cast Harry a look that was at once tender and fierce, and older than his face. Severus relaxed a little. He thought that the poisoning of Conflagration had at least one good side, that Draco had taken a large step towards adulthood all at once. Sometimes, imminent loss grew someone up. “Yes, sir.”

            “Good,” said Severus, and then turned to learn what he could from Zabini.

*

            Someone so reckless as to throw a vial full of the poison at me is a danger that I do not want around.

            You can’t kill him, Dash, Harry repeated for the fourth time.

            Why not?

            Harry dropped the moral arguments that didn’t work on a basilisk, and said, Because I don’t want you to.

            Dash paused, his head weaving back and forth, and then replied, You could have said so from the first. He loosened his coils on Zabini, and turned his head away from him.

            Harry sighed a little. Things were improved as long as Dash didn’t have his fangs and eyes aimed at Zabini. He glanced quickly over at Snape and Draco, even though he thought someone would have said something by now if Conflagration wasn’t going to live. Or Draco would have started to cry. Or something.

            But Draco was smiling at him with a shining Conflagration entwined around his arm, and Snape was examining Zabini. “Have you questioned him?” he asked Harry.

            “No,” Harry said. “But Dash did say that Zabini threw a flask of the poison at him when he and Draco came into the common room. He only survived because Draco used his magic to take it out of the air.”

            “I see,” said Snape. He was looking solemn in a way Harry had never seen before. Then again, he supposed it was different to see him getting ready to question a Slytherin, instead of someone he hated like he did Sirius or Dumbledore.

            Snape knelt down in front of Zabini and looked at him for a long moment. Dash’s coils kept him completely still. Zabini stared back, and Harry thought he looked tired. Maybe he would have gone to sleep if not for, well, everything else.

            “Why did you do it, then?” Snape asked, his voice free of expression.

            “You can’t think I’m going to tell you that. Not when I went to so much trouble to keep the poison secret and try to kill Potter’s basilisk in the first place.”

            Harry closed his eyes and hugged Dash’s head to him. It was one thing knowing Zabini had tried, and another to hear him say it like that, like he really didn’t care whether Dash lived or died.

            It did not happen. I am still here, Dash said, and nudged his head hard enough into Harry’s chest that Harry swayed on his feet. Harry nodded without opening his eyes and hugged Dash’s head harder.

            “Are you able to bear my questioning of him, Harry?” That was Snape, his voice soft and nothing like the rugged way he usually talked when there was someone else he didn’t trust there to hear him. Then again, Harry was starting to think that Zabini probably wouldn’t have the memory of this conversation left if Snape distrusted him.

            “Yes. It’s just hard to hear that he really wanted to murder Dash, and tried.” Harry opened his eyes again and said, “Why?”

            Zabini looked away.

            “I will give you one more chance to answer willingly,” said Snape. “Then I will simply enter your mind and take what I need. If you have heard rumors of me being a Legilimens, they are true and not fabricated. I will give you this chance because you have been a good student and a good Slytherin, and never tried to hurt someone before that I know of. You have also not succeeded in killing Mr. Malfoy’s snake. Will you yield?”

*



            Blaise wanted to laugh. What did they expect him to say? None of them could protect him from vengeance if the person who had abused him found out he’d told them the truth. Blaise could mention no names and make things as vague as he liked, and he would still find out. He had his ways.

            And although Blaise had heard about how painful Legilimency was and he didn’t want Snape ripping things out of his mind in a ruthless quest for answers, he was also certain that it would be less painful than what he would do if he knew Blaise had simply given up the answers when he was asked for them.

            “I can only imagine a few things that would shut your mouth this way,” Snape said, and drew his wand. Blaise tensed in spite of himself, but Snape continued regarding him with a cool, careful gaze, not seeming to assume he knew what the secret was from this. Then he cast several spells Blaise hadn’t heard of before. Knowing what they were was hampered by the way Snape made them all non-verbal, the bastard.

            Snape nodded slowly when he had made Blaise glow with silver light and scarlet, and caused a glove to feel as if it was tightening around his right hand. “It’s something different,” said Snape. “He has not been magically compelled to remain silent.”

            From the way Snape’s voice sounded now, Blaise assumed it would have been better for him if he had. But he didn’t intend to plead. He bowed his head and tucked his chin against his chest, his last gesture of defiance.

            To no avail, of course. Snape reached out and tilted his head back, and then Blaise was looking straight at his professor’s eyes, with no place to hide.

            “You disappoint me,” was the only thing Snape said, before he said, “Legilimens.”

*

            Draco watched the way that Blaise thrashed for a second before his eyes focused on Snape’s, and widened, and then he basically went limp in Dash’s grasp, staring straight ahead. Draco swallowed. He didn’t think he could have accepted the invasion of his mind like that. Maybe Blaise just didn’t care anymore, when he knew he’d been caught and he would be punished anyway.

            “It must have been horrible.”

            Draco smiled at Harry, glad that Harry could make time for him. “Yes, it was terrible to think Conflagration was dying.”

            “Oh? What, oh, of course. Yes, I know.” Harry smiled at him and put his hand on Draco’s shoulder.

            Not even his mother had ever thought Draco was easy to fool, and he would take sympathy, but not sympathy that Harry had originally given to someone else. He shook his head. “You weren’t thinking about me and Conflagration. What were you thinking about just now, when you said it must have been horrible?”

            “Oh.” Harry looked almost flushed. But he didn’t turn away from either Draco’s eyes or Dash’s interested stare. “I just meant, I think Zabini is really afraid. It must have been something horrible that made him try to poison Dash at all. He would have been terrified.”

            “Sometimes,” said Draco, with what he knew was a quivering voice but also a lot of dignity, “I don’t understand you at all.” And he turned and marched over to the other side of Snape’s office.

            Harry followed him, although not Dash, since he was holding Blaise still for Professor Snape. Draco took up his seat on a stool, and turned his head away regally when Harry tried to stand in front of him and catch his eye. Conflagration was already asleep, cuddled on his arm, which Draco was thankful for. It meant Harry couldn’t question him in Parseltongue and try to make him talk.

            “I don’t understand what you mean,” Harry told him.

            “Of course you don’t,” Draco snapped. “Because you just acted like you cared more about someone who tried to kill Dash than you did about your boyfriend!”

            Harry’s jaw drooped. Sometimes he can still be unattractive, then, Draco thought with righteous anger.

            Harry shook his head a second later, though, and he said, “I don’t care more about Zabini than I do about you!”

            “Then why did you talk about him instead of asking how I felt about Conflagration being saved?”

            “Because of course you were happy! I could see that from the look on your face! I would have been happy, too!”

            They glared at each other. Draco finally turned away and dropped his chin on his arm. His chest ached almost as much as he thought it would have if Conflagration had actually died, and he didn’t really want to talk to Harry right now.

            Harry tried a few times to say something, but Draco didn’t look at him, and that kept Harry’s voice down. Still, Draco thought he was about to try again when the tall figure of Professor Snape loomed over them. Draco looked at him and saw the strain on his face.

            “I need you to swear that you will keep to yourself what I am about to reveal,” he said.

            Someone’s still more concerned with Blaise than with me, Draco thought grumpily, but at least he was being included instead of being sent away. He nodded fervently, and saw Harry nodding along with him. Harry tried to shoot Draco a smile, but Draco glanced away again.

            “Good. Then come with me.”

            And Professor Snape led them back towards Blaise. Draco went with him, hunching his shoulders. Snape sat down behind his desk and regarded Blaise piercingly.

            “For how long has Headmaster Karkaroff been writing letters to you?”

*

            moodysavage: But don’t you feel sorry for him now, at least a little?

            SP777: There was also a time people thought Blaise was a girl. No, I just go with canon details unless they don’t work for my story, and then I leave them out.

            Thank you! Yes, I do like writing creature stories.

            No, but I would have to reread it and its prequel to start writing it again, and I really, really do not have time right now.

            MzPurpleMist: Well, revelation provided for.
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A Brother to Basilisks