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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
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Chapter Ninety--Steadfast
“I will destroy you, Lucius.”
“Is that any way to greet an old friend, Severus? Especially so early in the morning? Nothing I’ve done has changed the game that much. Not as much as having a child as your ward who shares his soul with Salazar Slytherin.”
Severus dragged his hand down his face and spread out the letter in front of him. It was from Clarence Greengrass, asking whether Harry’s basilisk really had the soul of Salazar Slytherin, and naming Lucius as the source of his information. “Do you understand how this will make him become a target?”
Lucius, face framed in the fire, gave him a thin, condescending smile. “He already is, Severus. For everything from defeating the Dark Lord as a child to being a Parselmouth. This will also bring much-needed protection to his side.”
Severus rattled Greengrass’s letter. “You think families like the Greengrasses will join with Harry simply because he has the soul of their House’s founder in his snake? They did not see fit to do so before, when the rumors of Harry having the soul of Slytherin circulated! And just because their children are currently Slytherins does not mean Clarence and Branwen still consider that the most important thing about themselves.”
Lucius’s smile changed, and he leaned forwards. “My son did right to inform me, Severus.”
“He did not. And he will have detention for the rest of the week.”
“Take what vengeance you must, of course. But I would suggest that it not be unjustified or outrageous. I have spread the news carefully, Severus, which means that Harry will have more allies than he can count soon enough. And you know the difference between rumors and confirmation. Besides, I can make the deal sweet for you, too.”
Severus breathed carefully through his rage. Some of it was the same reassurance he had offered Harry last night, but then, he hadn’t thought in terms of informing people like the Greengrass family. They made a habit of political bed-hopping, and Severus wanted more solid allies for Harry.
“Explain the difference between rumors and this kind of confirmation for me, then, Lucius. Especially since they haven’t heard the confirmation from Harry himself.”
“They know I would not lie, Severus, or speak this truth unless I was sure. It would mean too many consequences for me. And you haven’t even asked about the sweets I mentioned, Lucius.”
“Pardon me for being allergic to sweets after so many years of the Headmaster offering them to me.”
That got him a bigger version of the condescending smile, and Lucius leaned slowly back in his chair as if he wanted to emphasize how much time he had. Severus ground his teeth. If he hadn’t woken up to this letter, if he’d had time for more than one visit with Harry in the hospital wing this morning just to make sure that he and Dash hadn’t disintegrated during the night, then maybe he would have had more patience with Lucius’s games.
But maybe not.
“I’ve found a way to get rid of the Dark Mark. I think that’s going to be important, don’t you, now that the Dark Lord is back?”
Severus leaned forwards, aware that he might be about to fall over, but he had to say this. Had to. “I’ve studied methods for years, Lucius. It can’t be done. It won’t be done. If you tell me that you’re jesting…”
“Why would I do that? There would be no point in holding out such a tempting sweet and then snatching it back.” Lucius put his fist beneath his chin, a pose that he seemed to think made him look imperious. Severus regretted now that he had never thought to tell him it didn’t. “No, Severus, this is real. There will be some cost in blood. It’s an artifact I found in Knockturn Alley. But I promise that it’s real.”
“Oh, you found it in Knockturn Alley. Then I have the utmost confidence in you.”
“It was some weeks back,” said Lucius dismissively. “I’ve been working with it slowly, studying it, making sure that there’s no curse on it that would activate the moment someone tried to use it. But I haven’t found anything so far.”
“After a few weeks of study.” Severus shook his head, still feeling dazed. Lucius was moving fast—had already done so, if he’d been owling people overnight, and Greengrass had managed to get his own letter to Severus that morning. “Lucius, are you mad? You can’t simply proclaim that you’ve found a way to evade the Dark Mark when we’ve all tried for years and not found one.”
“Would you have preferred me to announce it earlier, when I wasn’t sure how the artifact worked or if it would do what I say it can?”
“I would prefer that you stayed out of my ward’s life, except as far as monitoring his friendship with Draco.”
Lucius snorted. “Then you should have thought better of asking me to act as a school governor where Mr. Potter is concerned, and supporting his claims of being abused, and all the other publicity that I’ve given him. Your ward is a political actor, Severus. I think you knew he would be the minute you heard the news of him having a basilisk, if not before. You would just prefer that you be the one controlling the spread of the information.”
That contained enough stinging truth to make Severus wince, but he kept his glare steady on Lucius, and his voice soft and venomous as Dash’s fangs. “If anything you do endangers him, then I’m going to destroy you. I meant what I said before.”
“I know that you might try.” Lucius waved a languid hand. “But you need me to make sure that you can have protection and political power for your ward, Severus. Besides, Draco wouldn’t like it.”
Severus said nothing. Something had occurred to him that he was not sure Lucius knew. Draco would do a great deal for Harry, and the other way around as well. Even Dash might do a great deal for Draco, because Harry would sicken with sorrow otherwise.
Did Lucius know that Draco might stand with Harry against his own father, if his father came up with ideas that hurt Harry?
Severus was not sure, and he intended to say nothing yet. For all he knew, the situation might not ever arise, as long as Lucius acted in Harry’s interests and Harry retained his hatred of causing problems for other people.
But it was also a weapon to be held in reserve, against people such as Lucius had revealed himself to be this morning.
“Severus? Do you want the opportunity to get rid of your Dark Mark or not?”
“I want you to use the artifact first. To make sure that it works, and it doesn’t cost more than I can bear to give.”
Lucius gave him a baffled, wary frown. “I was going to give you the first try at it. As a reward—”
“A bribe,” Severus interrupted, too impatient not to use the right words. “And no, Lucius. Unlike you, I want to remain alive to be with my ward more than I want to be free of the Dark Mark.”
“You won’t think that way if the Dark Lord calls you soon,” Lucius muttered, but he tilted his head in acceptance. “I will use it tonight, then. And I will show you a Pensieve memory of the process, as well as my unmarked arm.”
Severus nodded. He had nothing else to say. There were many things to do now that Lucius had broken the news early, not the least considering the kind of wording he would put in his letter to Greengrass.
“And Severus? The next time I try to do you a favor, I expect you to accept it.”
Severus watched without expression as Lucius’s face dissolved into the flames. Then he shook his head, snorted, and stood to begin writing the letter.
He would give Harry some input into it before he sent it out. At least that might solve the inevitable problem that Lucius was creating here: allies who expected to hear from them when there was little proof except Harry’s word.
*
“That’s really the only thing I can think of to say, Professor McGonagall.”
For a long moment, McGonagall squeezed Harry’s hand. She looked worn-down. Harry wondered if it was because everything was happening so fast, or because she was still in mourning over Dumbledore. Harry would have been like that himself if things were a little different.
Then I would have to squeeze you until such thoughts left your head. What nonsense.
Harry let his hand fall on Dash’s back, one of the few ways he felt comfortable reaching out to him in front of McGonagall. I thought you would say you’d leave me.
I would never say that. Even as a joke.
Harry opened his mouth to comment on that, and then Professor McGonagall continued, “I’ll tell the Aurors and other people who want to interview you that they aren’t to do so without Professor Snape here. He’s your legal guardian, and he can send them away if you need him to.” She squeezed his hand again, studying him with worried eyes. “I expect you to tell him if you want him to.”
“I’ll want him to.”
McGonagall smiled, maybe at the fierce tone in his voice, and nodded and stood up. “Good. Then I’ll go and start contacting the reporters and the Aurors who will want an interview with me.” She sighed and slipped out of the room.
As if he had only been waiting for her to leave, Draco immediately came into the hospital wing. He gave Harry a smug smile that made Harry instantly cautious. Draco was wonderful in so many ways, but sometimes he thought certain things were fun that turned out not to be for Harry.
Madam Pomfrey came out with a potion that helped ease magical exhaustion before he could say anything, though. Draco folded his arms and pouted.
“Drink it slowly, dear,” said Madam Pomfrey, and tilted the vial to Harry’s lips, as if he was too weak to hold it himself.
Harry actually did appreciate the help, though, because he choked as soon as he tasted the thick, sludgy potion, the way he had the other times, and shook his head to settle the desperate need to gag. Then he nodded at Madam Pomfrey, and she took the vial away, made a little mark on a chart she held, and waved her wand. A house-elf popped in with a tray full of porridge and chopped, dried fruit.
“This is a good beginning,” Madam Pomfrey said. “But before I release you, Harry, I want you to drink all of the potion without gagging and also eat more than this. Twice as much as this, even. Do you understand?”
Harry sighed and nodded, but she only waited expectantly, and he remembered what she had said about verbal answers, even though he still didn’t understand why she required them. “Yes, Madam Pomfrey.”
She beamed at him, then left. Harry dumped some of the fruit into the porridge and began to eat, ignoring Dash’s dreams of live, squirming mice, while he looked at Draco expectantly.
“I told my father about Dash having Salazar Slytherin’s soul,” said Draco, his eyes sparkling hard. He glanced only once at the door of Madam Pomfrey’s office to make sure that she’d gone back inside. “He’ll know who to tell.”
Harry choked on the porridge, and not for the same reasons as the potion. “Snape wanted it to spread carefully!”
“There are certain things a Malfoy has to do, Harry. And I don’t think Professor Snape has as much political experience as my father.”
Well, no, that’s because he doesn’t have money to throw around the Ministry, Harry wanted to say, but both the porridge sticking in his throat and the way Dash squeezed his wrist made him think better of saying it. He swallowed and repeated, “Snape told you not to do that.”
Draco shrugged. He looked stubborn; he always did when he took on that particular tilt of his chin. “I thought you’d be pleased.”
That seemed a little mad. “Why?”
“Because I’m looking out for you in a way that not even Professor Snape can. Politically and legally, you’ll be protected.”
“I’ll be protected as long as I tell them the truth about Dumbledore and Flamel, too.” Harry really meant their story about Flamel, but he wasn’t going to make the distinction when Madam Pomfrey might be listening.
“But are they going to believe you when you tell them the Dark Lord is back? I mean, in the same way? Are they going to believe that you’re telling the truth, or will they turn around and hide their heads in the sand the way the Minister always does when something unpleasant comes up? This way, your allies will believe you because that’s the only way they can believe who Dash is. And they’ll make the Minister see reason.”
“But it’s going to make Professor Snape angry,” said Harry, and rubbed his forehead with the palm of one hand. He knew Draco had only been trying to help, but seriously, more problems than good things were going to come of this.
Do you want me to talk with him? Dash asked, twining up Harry’s arm and letting his tongue flicker out in Draco’s direction—snidely, although Harry doubted Draco could tell the difference between that and any other tongue-flicker.
Please. I’ll translate.
Dash nodded and began to hiss. Draco went still and wide-eyed immediately, the way he did every time he heard Parseltongue. Harry translated about a sentence behind, so that he could make sure he understood the full meaning of every sentence—and give Draco time to understand it, too.
“We appreciate what you tried to do. But by giving the news to Lucius, you caused it to be distributed along too many channels. If it was all coming from Professor Snape, then we would be able to track it easily.”
“But some people already knew part of the news.” Draco’s eyes were wide and he looked uncomfortable, but he also looked as if he would argue until his heart fell out of his chest. “I mean, about Dumbledore and Flamel. We announced that already. And we can’t track everyone who heard that, either.”
“Yes, but not about what happened last night,” Harry said, speaking for himself now. He cast a little resentful glance at Madam Pomfrey’s office door. He knew she was only trying to help, too, but it was bloody inconvenient not to be able to speak what they meant aloud. “We wanted to keep that private.”
“Not that private. I thought you agreed to that. Because that was what you wanted to do at first, and—”
“Not—Merlin, Draco. Just private enough that no one else could creep up and ambush us. And Professor Snape was going to take care of it. You realize that you’re going to be in trouble with him?”
“He is already in trouble.”
Harry couldn’t help the little leap his heart gave when Snape came through the door of the hospital wing—and there was something he had thought would never be true six months ago. Snape cast Draco a withering glance that finally made him flinch, and then strode over to Harry’s bed and cast what was probably a diagnostic spell on him.
“You are recovering well,” said Professor Snape, crouching down in front of Harry. For a moment, his eyes were wide and dark and revealed a lot more than they usually did, and Harry found himself staring.
He wondered if he was the only person who got to see Professor Snape like this. Probably, he decided. He hadn’t even known that this side of Professor Snape existed.
“As well as one can, given what happened to you,” Professor Snape added, and then he turned and looked at Draco. Harry couldn’t see the stare he gave him, since he was now standing with his back to Harry, but Dash could, and he chuckled and let Harry use his eyes.
Harry wanted to recoil even though he was safely on the bed and he wasn’t the one Snape was angry at anyway. Draco actually stood there under it, which argued for a lot more Gryffindor courage than Harry had thought he had.
“My father was doing what he thought was best.”
“I blame your father less than I blame you. You were the one who knew the need for privacy and blurted the secret out to him anyway.”
And Snape turned away from Draco as if he had ceased to exist, and sat down on the bed in front of Harry with a letter in his hand. “Clarence Greengrass has contacted me. I assume that you don’t know his daughters?”
Harry blinked. He had a vague memory of someone named Astoria Greengrass, and thought he’d probably only noticed her name because he thought it was unusual. And there was a girl called Daphne Greengrass in their year, wasn’t there? He’d never even heard her speak. Whenever they fought with Slytherins, Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson were the ones who had taken the lead.
“I will take that as a no,” said Snape, so gently that Harry blushed. “Well. He will want to know if your basilisk is the reincarnation of Slytherin. I want your input on what to tell him.”
“Don’t tell him he isn’t. That would be a stupid thing to do, Har—”
“I believe I told you your presence was unwelcome, Draco.”
Draco wilted, and then he marched out of the hospital wing with his head hanging. Harry stirred uneasily. If that had been Ron or Hermione, he would have been running after them right now, and he thought he owed Draco more than just lying here and watching him leave.
You could go after him if I would let you out of bed, Dash said, and then locked a band of his body casually around Harry’s ankles. So you can tell him that later, and it’s even true.
Harry sighed and let the thought go. Both Dash and Snape would get angry at him if he insisted on going after Draco now—
Damn right I would.
And part of this, although not all of it, had been Draco’s fault. Harry frowned at the thought of Lucius bloody Malfoy and faced Professor Snape again.
“What do you know about the Greengrass family, Professor?”
*
Severus watched Harry closely. He looked less angry than Severus thought he had the right to, but then, the boy had always been ridiculously forgiving. And it was an honest question, committed to moving ahead rather than brooding over Draco.
Even if part of it rather bothered Severus.
“You’ve known me for longer than you have Black,” he said. “You could even say that you’ve been on good terms with me for longer than you have with Black, since that soured right away. Why won’t you call me Severus?”
Harry froze and stared at him. Then he said, “Sirius just always wanted me to call him by his first name. And it seemed—I don’t know, he didn’t seem like an adult sometimes, you know?”
“He still does not,” said Severus, tartly enough that he won a smile from Harry.
“But I’ll call you Severus if you want,” Harry said, and squinted at him. “I suppose it would be kind of silly to spend a summer around you calling you professor all the time, when we’re not in classes.”
Severus sighed softly. Ridiculously forgiving, and ridiculously resilient, if he can already be thinking of the summer holidays at a time like this. He nodded and continued, “The Greengrasses are rather known for staying out of the way sometimes and changing sides as it pleases them. They make their income from sales of a number of potions that only they control the ingredients for, plants that only flourish in the Greengrass gardens. They dwell behind powerful protective magic, or someone would have stolen their secrets long before now. They have almost always Sorted Slytherin.”
“Oh.” Harry huddled on the bed and then uncurled when Dash poked him with his tail. Severus had the private opinion that Harry would have been far worse than he was without the basilisk urging him to face life. “Well. I’d like him to know that it’s real. And that I’m willing to meet with him. And, um, that I don’t expect to take over the world or something like that. Can you change the wording so it’s more diplomatic?”
Severus rolled his eyes a little. “More diplomatic than that will not be hard to manage, Harry.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
And this is the reason that he has so much trouble calling me by my first name. Severus doubted Harry would be this meek with the Muggles, but then again, Harry had come not to care what they thought of him. He did with Black and Severus, though.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” Severus said. “You are new at this. You’ll learn politics in time, and with competent teachers, and from a human perspective.” He cast a hard glance at Dash, who only looked with mild interest back at him. “I will teach you.”
Harry watched him for a second, and then smiled. “Thank you, Severus.”
One hurdle overcome, Severus thought, and picked up Greengrass’s letter again.
*
Draco shut his eyes and held his breath as long as he could. At least he was alone in the dorm room. Theo was in the library, and Vince and Greg had gone elsewhere the minute he told them to.
He wanted to go tell his father the disrespectful way Professor Snape had spoken to him. He wanted to complain. He wanted to do lots of things, including marching back to the hospital wing and demanding to be included in the political discussion he suspected Harry and Professor Snape were having. How could Harry learn if Draco wasn’t there to help?
But that was the kind of behavior that had got him in trouble in the first place. Professor Snape was already angry at him, and there wasn’t any point in pushing any further, the same way there wasn’t when he got a detention or lost points for Slytherin.
Draco flopped down on his bed and scowled at the ceiling. Then he scowled at the wall. Then he scowled at Blaise’s bed, which for some reason had stayed in the room even though Blaise had gone to the Continent.
I’m going to show them I can be an adult about this. And that means having my own ideas and reaching out to other people and not complaining all the time.
Draco reached for parchment and ink, and started writing a letter to Weasley. Harry wasn’t the only one who would need political education.
*
SP777: Thank you! I picture Dash as being about sixteen feet long now.
And yes, I did find a job. Thanks for asking.
Anon: Thank you!
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A Brother to Basilisks