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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-Four—Beyond Reach

            “It hurt a lot that you seemed to care more about Blaise than me.”

            He and Harry had walked on the lakeshore for ten minutes, and Draco still hadn’t managed to say anything. It was because he kept looking at Harry, Draco thought, and he seemed so calm, walking there with Dash shimmering around him.

            He hadn’t almost lost his snake. He looked as though he wouldn’t really appreciate any of what Draco had to say to him.

            So, finally, Draco looked away from Harry and spoke his words. He listened to the lake lapping, and Harry’s silence.

            “I’d almost lost Conflagration. And you gave him to me as a gift. You were the one who taught me to speak Parseltongue. You even sent Dash with me to capture Blaise.” Draco swallowed. “I thought you really understood. But then it was like you turned away from me and focused on him.”

            “Sorry,” Harry finally said. “But I thought it was going to be fine. Conflagration wasn’t dead, and Blaise was abused, like me. It was hard not to think about him.”

            Now I can look at him, Draco thought, and turned around to stare indignantly at Harry. “Abused just like you? You never tried to kill anyone else’s snake because of it!”

            “No.” Harry’s face was grim. “But I ran away from things, and kept silent when I shouldn’t have, and made bad decisions because of it.” He turned, walking backwards as if he wanted to keep an eye on Draco. Dash lifted his tail carefully out of the way. “Zabini made bad decisions, too.”

            “He wanted to poison my snake—”

            Dash cut him off with a sharp hiss, which made Draco glare in betrayal before he could stop himself. He had thought that if anyone understood, besides his father, then Dash would. He had always seemed to agree with Draco about protecting important people before, and not to care about how many of Harry’s enemies, like Black, he hurt.

            Harry cocked his head, and then snorted. “Dash says you should remember that Zabini was aiming at him. Not Conflagration.”

            “But Blaise didn’t care if he hurt Conflagration,” Draco corrected. He stared down at the flame cobra wrapped around his arm. Conflagration still slept most of the time. At least that morning he had woken up enough to eat five sausages, which was more than he’d eaten since Blaise had poisoned him. “I’m the only one who cares about Conflagration.”

            Harry sighed and reached out to put a hand on his arm. Draco turned a blank stare on him. If he went on trying to excuse Blaise, then he and Draco were going to have some very sharp words.

            “Listen,” Harry said in what he probably thought was a gentle voice. “I do care that Conflagration was poisoned. I’m glad he’s all right. But I can’t care just about him. Or you. It’s like asking me to stop caring about Sirius because he did some stupid things. I still want to see him helped. That’s different from wanting to live with him. And I care about Zabini getting some help and safety because he was abused. That’s different from only caring about him.”

            Draco stared over Harry’s head at the Forbidden Forest. He knew what Harry was saying, but he didn’t want to listen. It was—well, more cool than he wanted to be.

            Father would probably say that Harry was right. He would say that getting so upset about Conflagration and not listening to reason would just damage you more in people’s eyes.

            But Draco had to get some kind of sympathy for Harry. He held up his arm. “Do you really care about Conflagration?”

            For an answer, Harry bent down and hissed softly. Conflagration stirred, lifting his head. He hissed a few “words” back and then put his head down again, wrapping his tail around Draco’s wrist as if he didn’t want to be disturbed.

            Even his hold feels stronger than it did yesterday, Draco thought in hope, and stroked Conflagration’s back. I really think he’s getting stronger, and Professor Snape really did cure him.

            “Conflagration says he feels tired,” said Harry, lifting his head. “That some of his muscles ache, and especially around his jaws.” Draco immediately took his hand back. He’d been about to stroke along Conflagration’s mouth. “But he doesn’t hurt. He just wants to sleep and eat until he gets some strength back.”

            “He sleeps and eats a lot of the time anyway.”

            Harry nodded. “Snakes know how to cure themselves, if they don’t actually die. He’ll do that until he feels better.” He hesitated. “And he says that he’s glad you’re keeping him so warm.”

            “Oh,” Draco whispered, cradling Conflagration close to him. He wanted to smile, although he bit it down in case Harry thought he was forgiven already. At least he was doing something right, though.

            Harry grabbed his shoulder. Draco looked up, in time to receive such a large, smacking kiss on the lips that he jumped, taken aback.

            “I do want to help you,” Harry whispered. “I do care about you. And about Conflagration. It’s just…it’s not simple, Draco. And it’s going to be even worse now, because I have to be political to save Zabini and prevent Karkaroff from doing something we don’t want him to.” He sighed. “Maybe if I’d never pretended to be the reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin, this would never have happened. I don’t know.”

            Dash gave another sharp hiss. Harry turned and stared at him in surprise.

            “What did he say?” Draco demanded, trying to keep from sounding delighted, since Harry was so upset. But it was a comfort to know that he wasn’t the only one who would get hissed at.

            “He said that everyone was always going to think I was the reincarnation of Slytherin after I bonded with him.” Harry blinked a little. “And he’s not going to let me regret bonding with him. If I feel that, I’ll regret feeling it.”

            “What would he do?” Draco stared in fascination at Dash, who had opened his mouth in a casual yawn that displayed his fangs.

            “Do you know, I’m not sure I want to find out?”

            Draco had to smile. “All right. I won’t make you.” He faced Harry and hesitated for a second. Then he said, “I don’t want to fight with you. It just made me really annoyed because you seemed to care more about Blaise than me or Conflagration or even Dash.”

            Harry blinked slowly. “That was when I first heard about him being abused. I had to think that way. I had to wonder what it was like, and think that at least my relatives never threatened to kill me.” He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, which made Dash make a huge loop of his body in response. “I know, Dash. I’m cold enough. Let’s go inside.”

            Draco followed him back in, content. He knew he might have to contact Father and tell him it was all right, that he and Harry had made up, but at least he didn’t feel that dreadful sharp aching in his chest any more when he thought of Harry liking Blaise more than him.

*

            “I would be delighted to take Mr. Zabini and make sure he is safe on the Continent.”

            Lughborn had said that the instant Professor Snape contacted him, and then he had asked to come through to the school and visit Zabini. So now Harry was standing on one side of Snape’s office and watching Zabini, who was slumped on a chair, with Lughborn standing in front of him and considering him deeply.

            “You are not so much a purely Dark wizard as one who has gone wrong, truly,” Lughborn murmured. “And been threatened if you strayed out of the one path that your feet were set on.”

            Zabini abruptly lifted his head and looked more excited about something than Harry had ever seen him. “My mother never—”

            “I was talking about the path of threats that your uncle placed you on, child,” said Lughborn. “That you couldn’t stray away from absolute silence about some of your experiences because it would make others suspect what had happened to you.”

            Zabini slowly leaned back. He had an expression on his face that Harry thought was familiar.

            It was the way you looked when someone first told you that they could find out about the abuse from the Dursleys and make them stop, Dash told him, trailing a long, slow tail down Harry’s chest as he climbed to the floor.

            Harry blinked. “Oh,” he said aloud.

            Lughborn only glanced at him once, and then faced Zabini again. “I understand you wish to see your mother one more time before you leave Britain. And if she does not wish us to take you, we will not. But it would be safer for you to be under heavy magical protections with no trace of your family’s shared blood.”

            Zabini licked his lips. “No one told me that my mother was asking about me.”

            Harry hadn’t known it, either. He looked at Snape, who looked down his nose a little and said, “I told you yesterday, Mr. Zabini. However, you were recovering from the effects of a Dreamless Sleep potion at the time. They sometimes induce a bit of memory loss when they have been taken to make someone sleep at all rather than to ward off dreams.”

            “Oh,” Zabini said himself, slowly. Then he nodded. “I want to see my mother. Then I’ll do whatever she advises. But she has to come here without letting him know about it.”

            “That should not be difficult,” Snape said. “I will contact her myself, and she will come to the Floo in my office. There is no one in this room who would betray her presence to anyone outside it.”

            Zabini looked at Snape and nodded, but then he looked past Lughborn at Harry. “Does he have to be here? Can’t I see my mother in private?”

            “You can see her with me here,” said Snape inflexibly. “Not in absolute privacy. I am not entirely certain what your mother will do once she knows that your uncle was responsible.”

            “And I will be content to trust you to Professor Snape’s guardianship,” Lughborn said, with one of those majestic nods that made him look like a lion to Harry. “I will get to know you more by speaking with you than with your mother.”

            Zabini was still glaring demandingly at Harry, and he lifted one hand, pushing Dash’s head down a little as he started to hiss. “I was only here because I was visiting with Professor Snape when Lughborn came,” he said. “I don’t want to take away your privacy, Zabini.”

            “Good. Then I want you to leave, and I want Professor Snape to call my mother. Please,” he added, as if he thought that would make up for him sounding rude a little earlier.

            Harry walked towards the door of the office. Part of him had wanted to stay. He’d wanted to talk to Zabini about what it was like not wanting to admit you’d been abused, and see if there was anything new he could say, and if there was any comfort Harry could offer.

            But the answer was obviously no. And maybe it always would be. Zabini was probably uncomfortable facing the person whose basilisk he had tried to poison.

            He gets one more chance.

            What do you mean? Harry asked as they stepped out into the corridor. He thought for a minute about where Ron and Hermione would be, and then turned towards the library. His books were back in Gryffindor Tower, but that wouldn’t matter much. Hermione would be happy to let him borrow hers for an hour or so. She was probably already done with her Transfiguration essays anyway, since it was due tomorrow. It sounds like he gets a lot more than one chance, since he’ll go with Lughborn.

            I mean that he gets one more chance to prove he is harmless to you and me. Dash stretched, dropped off his shoulders, and slithered alongside Harry. His scales made a quiet little rasping noise Harry hadn’t noticed before. Maybe they were changing as Dash got older. If he tries to harm me or you again, I’ll poison him.

            Draco would be furious that you weren’t including him and Conflagration in there, Harry said as lightly as he could.

            I can, of course. But since he isn’t hearing me right now, it’s up to you what you tell him.

            Harry stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to face Dash. Dash halted with his head held up and his body rippling behind him. This time, he was as silent as the light of the torches on the floor.

            You can’t go around poisoning people and biting them just because they threaten us. I won’t allow it.

            We’ve had this discussion before. Dash gently swayed his head back and forth, and yawned again. Harry thought of the way he’d yawned near Karkaroff’s face, and scowled at him. This time, he was just being deliberately annoying. You can’t stop me from defending you.

            If you go around biting people and killing them, then they won’t let me have you here.

            Good. Then I’ll be free to take you away from a place where only two professors seem to really care what happens to you. Your friends can come too, if they want. We’ll go find some place that’s fun and near the ocean and defensible, and we’ll build a house there. And Draco can come visit and Conflagration can burn driftwood.

            Harry put a hand over his eyes. This was the problem with trying to have conversations with Dash. He would sound serious and then start talking in a way that made Harry unsure how far he would even try to go. Maybe he was joking about biting people, too.

            I would never joke about defending you.

            Harry opened his eyes and spoke aloud just so Dash would know he was being serious. “I know you’re not. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t want someone randomly biting people who are trying to kill me.”

            It would never be random. It would only be people who tried to kill you. Or me. And once they’re dead, they can’t try again. It’s sound policy.

            “I still don’t want you to do it.”

            I don’t care what you want, if your life is in danger, said Dash, and slid past him towards the library. Come, or Hermione will be wondering where we are.

            Harry stood with his eyes tightly shut, but there was a large problem with this method of punishing Dash for his actions: it didn’t work. Dash knew perfectly well what Harry felt, and he knew it was worry that drove Harry’s actions, not indifference.

            Someday, Harry thought as he walked after Dash and watched how many people gave them nervous looks and got out of the way, we’re going to have a large fight about this.

            He did wonder, though, whether it was a fight that he would be happier to win or lose.

*

            “Mother.”

            “Blaise,” said his mother, and held him so tight that Blaise actually tensed, feeling the anticipation of an ache around his ribs where he used to hit him.

            Mother didn’t seem to notice, but after a moment, she shifted her hold and led him to the chair nearest Professor Snape’s fireplace. The professor might as well not have been in the room, for all the attention she paid him. “I want to know why you did not tell me,” Mother said, looking straight down into his eyes.

            Blaise swallowed. His mother, Elena Zabini, was a beautiful woman, with skin as dark and clear as her eyes and hair, and gowns of red and blue and gold that she wore in place of robes. Blaise knew all the gowns cost a fortune, but then, she had seven fortunes to spend, so that was nothing.

            He was far more worried about the way she had splayed her hand against his side. She had done that the last time one of his stepfathers had yelled at Blaise. And then she had sweetly told Blaise to make sure that he gave Niccolo a fond farewell, because he would be going to Hogwarts after the Easter holidays and away for so long.

            It was indeed a fond farewell, and Blaise hadn’t been surprised at all to come home that summer and find that Niccolo was dead, the victim of a tragic Lethifold accident, and his mother was courting the man who would become his sixth stepfather.

            Perhaps Mother remembered that time as well, because she said in a soft voice like melting honey, “You know I would do anything to protect you.”

            “And that’s why I didn’t tell you,” whispered Blaise. “Because you would have done something. And he said he would make you suffer. He said he could make sure that you were up in Azkaban. You only hadn’t gone before for the—the deaths because of his influence, he said—”



            Mother shook her head, her braided, shining hair trailing in loops down her shoulders. “No, Blaise. It was because there was no evidence against me, and because people are afraid of me.” She said those words with the kind of pure, simple confidence that Blaise wished he could have. “The cases never even came close going to the Wizengamot.”

            “I didn’t know that,” Blaise whispered. He could have known, he thought, if he’d asked his mother, but he had been content to leave it alone. And except at the moments when he had threatened to bring his mother up on charges, it did seem that she led a charmed life, beyond the reach of the law. “I would have…”

            “You would have done exactly as he said, most likely. That is because you are the child and I am the parent. You do not need to protect me.”

            Mother reached down and pried Blaise’s head up until he had no choice but to look her in the eyes. Blaise swallowed and felt his skin burn. He didn’t want to look at her. Now that he was and listening to her words, his threats seemed no more than childish lies. Of course Mother would have defenses in place in case someone tried to do that to her. Of course Blaise should have known better than to think she was just waiting around to let herself be captured.

            “You will not take that role again,” Mother whispered, while she held him to her. “That risk. You will leave Britain and only come back for the trial of Karkaroff, as needed, and you will be safe and know that I love you. I will handle your uncle.”

            Blaise could only be grateful to her from refraining from the name. Then again, Professor Snape might have told her about the curse.

            He said the first thing that came into his head. “They’ll probably want to try me, too. For poisoning Draco’s snake. I mean, it’s not going to sound good if I say that I was really trying to poison Potter’s basilisk and just got the flame cobra by mistake…”

            Mother turned and studied Professor Snape for the first time. “They will dare to try him?”

            “Not until your uncle is off the Wizengamot,” said Professor Snape calmly. “There would be no end to Mr. Zabini’s danger until then. But after that, yes, Lucius Malfoy will ask for a reckoning. And even if he did not, Draco Malfoy would.”

            For a moment, Mother looked calculating. Well, more calculating than normal, that was. Blaise didn’t think he could say he had ever seen her face calm and open. “Not Potter?”

            “Mr. Zabini’s assault did not succeed in poisoning the basilisk,” said Professor Snape. “Things would have been different if it had.” Blaise stirred a little, not liking the use of the poison called an “assault,” but Professor Snape pointedly didn’t notice. “And Mr. Potter, as you may have read last year, grew up in an abusive home himself. That gave him an empathy for Mr. Zabini that is not easily overcome.”

            “Good,” said Mother softly. Then she paused. “If you have something else to say to my son, Professor Snape, say it.”

            Professor Snape nodded distantly. Blaise met his eyes, and saw a weariness so old there that he gasped a little.

            “I hope that you went along with Karkaroff’s plans out of fear of your own abuse being exposed,” said Professor Snape, “and not because of some deeper enmity. Harry understands you now. He forgives you. You will have to leave Hogwarts, but he will not press charges. And as long as you do nothing else against him, you will have nothing to fear from that direction.

            “But I watch his basilisk closely, and I have seen a change in Dash over the last few days. I think, if you act against Harry again, you will find Dash waiting for you. And a basilisk’s eyes kill even faster than its fangs. Remember that, Mr. Zabini.”

            It took Blaise a long moment to find his tongue, because he was shivering too hard to speak. Surprisingly, Mother didn’t say anything. She only stood there and looked, narrow-eyed, back and forth between him and Professor Snape as if they were two actors in a play and she hadn’t figured out which one of them had the lead role.

            That means it’s up to me to come up with an answer.

            “That was the only reason I feared Potter,” Blaise finally managed to rasp. “And I might not ever have acted against him e-except for the letter he sent me telling me that he’d better never become the target of an abuse investigation if I wanted to live. I d-don’t hate him, Professor Snape. But I am afraid of his basilisk.”

            “As I said,” Professor Snape murmured, with a motion of his open hand, “leave Hogwarts, go to school on the Continent, testify against Karkaroff when the time comes, and you need never fear him. Harry is too forgiving for his own good.”

            A shadow crossed the professor’s face, and Blaise had to close his eyes. He didn’t think Dash was the only one he’d have to fear if he had decided to keep Potter as his enemy.

            “But do not take any side against him again,” Professor Snape said. “Can you promise me that much, Mr. Zabini?”

            Blaise nodded. “And I’ll write an apology to Draco,” he said. “But I don’t think he wants to see me right now.”

            A narrow smile compressed Professor Snape’s mouth. “No,” he said. “I don’t think he does. All right, Mr. Zabini. I have no objection to you leaving with Lughborn, and I promise you that your uncle will be dealt with.” He paused long enough to nod to Mother. “I will leave you here to visit with your son for the day, if you will promise to depart through my Floo and tell no one you were here.”

            “Teach that basilisk to suck eggs, Severus,” said Mother, pleasantly enough.

            Professor Snape nodded and departed. Mother turned back to Blaise and folded him in her arms. Blaise closed his eyes, shaking. He could hardly believe the moment of threats had passed and he was still alive.

            “Now,” Mother said, with a kiss behind his ear, “we have a whole day to plot revenge. Let me hear your most creative ideas, darling. I’ll be the one to execute them, but I want my dear boy to have his share in it, too.”

*

            SP777: Yes, you’re right about the error.

            Dash has already seen Nagini, when he battled her at the Yule Ball.

            Jester: Well, I think both your wishes came true!

            gollumsfriend: Yes, thanks for noting that.

            rebellion: Thank you very much!
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A Brother to Basilisks