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A Brother to Basilisks	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 85172 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 15
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Ninety-Two--The Biting Flames
Harry tried to be calm as he walked into the Ministry. His heart was still beating wildly, but Dash was crawling at his side, and Harry knew Professor Snape--Severus--would die to defend him. Or at least hurt other people to defend him. He had to, if he was going to force potions down Harry's throat and all the rest of it. If he was going to be that fierce with Harry, he had to be that fierce with--
Stop, Harry managed to think, and focused his attention ahead, down the corridor.
They'd taken a lift to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. There were a lot more people around than Harry had expected, and for a second he froze. Then he flushed. Of course, the Aurors had come in the middle of breakfast, not late at night, even though it had kind of felt like late at night with how determined they were to sneak him away.
And they attracted attention, of course. In fact, Harry thought he could see where the words "screeching halt" came from, because people stopped in front of them and started screaming almost immediately.
"Is that a basilisk?"
"It is! Kill it, kill it! Before it kills us!"
"When they're young like that you can kill them with a spell more easily than anything--"
Dash uttered a long, low hiss that seemed to curl around the walls and floor and furniture and make more than one person freeze in place as if he'd used his petrifying gaze. Harry felt his pleasure thrum up the bond at the results, but he only turned his close-lidded eyes towards Harry as if inviting him to explain to them what was going on.
"I'm Harry Potter, and this is Dash, my basilisk," Harry said, and studiously ignored how stupid he felt. "That means he isn't going to hurt you. I'm a Parselmouth and I'm bonded to him, and it's legal for me to possess him."
In a way, what they said next didn't matter, because it was such a storm of yells and muttering and pointing fingers and people ducking out of the way every time Dash's head swung towards them, Harry couldn't understand them individually anyway. He looked at the Auror Severus had told him was called Howling, and waited.
Howling cleared his throat, which did exactly nothing, so he used a Sonorus Charm and his voice boomed out down the corridor. "What young Mr. Potter says is correct. It is legal for him to have a basilisk and we do have an appointment with Minister Fudge, so if you good people could please move out of the way..."
"And let the basilisk hunt us down?"
"The Minister must be out of his mind!"
"I never knew that the Minister cared more about what happened to poisonous magical snakes than the real citizens of Britain!"
Harry was going to roll his eyes and walk through it, but then he caught Severus's eye. Severus's mouth was pinched in, and he looked between the people as though he wanted to attack them. For that matter, Dash's tongue was starting to flicker in and out at a faster pace that Harry knew from experience was never good.
Harry cleared his throat loudly, and half the people arguing in the corridor turned to look at him. The rest didn't, but Harry thought that would probably change pretty fast.
"I'm the only one who can control the basilisk," Harry said pleasantly. "Because I'm the only Parselmouth in Britain." He wanted to cringe when he remembered that wasn't true, but no one needed to know about Voldemort being back and the ragged patch on Harry's soul right now. "And right now, you're annoying me, and making my temper short."
"So you're going to set the basilisk on us?" That was an annoying woman with a pink cardigan and a face that could have put Trevor, Neville's toad, to shame. She looked down her nose at Harry, and didn't even glance at Dash.
"No," said Harry, and shrugged a little. "But I'm only fourteen, you know. I don't have very good control. Not all the time. And Dash gets upset when he listens to people insult me, and sometimes he doesn't think I should just forgive them like I do. If he gets upset enough..."
“I do believe you are threatening us. You spiteful little toad.”
Harry thought the pink woman had some nerve calling anyone else a toad, but he didn’t have the same reaction Dash did. Dash shot forwards in silence, and weaved around the pink woman. She went as still as though someone had cast the Stone Curse on her, and stared with helpless eyes at Harry.
“Really, Mr. Potter, this is most improper,” said Auror Howling. But his voice was faint, and he didn’t move, either.
Harry waited for a moment, just long enough to give the impression that he was struggling in a silent argument with Dash, and then stepped up beside the pink woman and held out a commanding hand. “Let her go, Dash.”
She insulted you. And me. And she smells dangerous.
Harry thought about that, then shrugged. The point was, at the moment they had nothing they could justifiably attack her for, and he would get in more trouble for letting Dash kill her than anything else. “Let her go. I’m going to warn you one more time, and then I’ll take away all the mice that I was planning to feed you for dinner.”
He ignored the squeaks from some Ministry officials who were suddenly upset at the thought of being trapped inside the Ministry by a hungry basilisk. He bent his gaze on Dash for show, and Dash finally unwound himself from the pink woman and crawled back to Harry, keeping his head down in a fine imitation of human sullenness.
I’ve had enough models at that bloody school, haven’t I?
Harry kept his hand on Dash’s head for a moment as he drew him further away from the pink woman and towards the office that Auror Howling wanted them to aim for. Are you all right?
I don’t know why, but she smells dangerous.
Harry sighed a little. He couldn’t imagine why that would be, and Dash’s attempt to show him didn’t help much; Harry still didn’t understand half the subtle swirls and marks that made up Dash’s scent world, and when he was sharing his basilisk’s senses, he simply understood without needing it explained. Well, let’s go on and talk to the Minister. We need to spend some time doing that, and deciding what to tell him.
My vote would be nothing. Not that I have Salazar’s soul, not that Voldemort is now your Horcrux.
Harry shivered a little. What does that mean? Does that mean I wouldn’t die if someone cast the Killing Curse at me?
You wouldn’t die anyway, because I would be in front of you tugging you out of the curse’s path.
Harry hit Dash lately on the side with one hand. Be serious.
I am. Do you think I would allow you to go into battle without me?
Harry sighed again and said nothing. They were at the door of the Minister’s office anyway, and Fudge was looking like he wanted to either explode or start yelling as he stared at them.
“Minister Fudge,” said Harry, with a faint smile, and then took a chair in front of the desk while Dash curled around him, around the chair legs, and along about half the floor. Fudge hadn’t planned at all for Dash to come, Harry saw. Does that mean he thinks he would have stayed at the school? Interesting.
Fudge coughed and glanced at Auror Howling and the other one, who hadn’t ever introduced himself, as if hoping for some sort of answer. All Howling did was shake his head, resigned, while Snape took up his stance behind Harry, one hand light on his shoulder. Harry leaned back against him.
“I hadn’t, ah, realized that you would be accompanying Mr. Potter, Professor Snape,” Fudge finally said. “You’re not his Head of House, after all.”
“I am his legal guardian.”
It seemed that was all Snape intended to say, and from Dash’s lazy hiss, he approved. He put his head on Harry’s lap and watched Fudge with his lidded yellow eyes. Fudge stared in what seemed to be dreadful fascination despite himself, and then looked away and fiddled with his tie for a moment.
“You’re here to answer questions about the death of Albus Dumbledore, Mr. Potter,” he finally said.
“All right,” said Harry, and then didn’t speak anymore. He wouldn’t have anyway, but he had the squeeze of Severus’s hand on his shoulder and Dash’s coils around his legs to also warn him it wouldn’t be a good idea.
“Can you—er—”
Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but he said, “What’s the matter, Minister? If you’re going to ask my basilisk to leave, I’m afraid he can’t. He’s actually an essential witness to what happened at the cave Dumbledore brought me to.”
Fudge turned green and pressed his hands against his mouth. Harry shifted a little. He really hoped that Fudge wasn’t about to get sick all over the desk—and probably Harry, too, because that was the way his luck ran.
“I’ve heard that your basilisk was the one who, er, instigated the deed,” said Fudge, and his voice was so breathless that Harry had to concentrate to hear him.
“Yes. He was the one who killed Dumbledore, sir,” Harry said, and stroked Dash’s head again. Dash sent a pulse of approval down the bond. He believed it couldn’t hurt to remind Fudge of who was master of the basilisk in the room.
Or who looks like the master of the basilisk in the room.
Harry said nothing back. Their struggle over mastery of the bond, or who was primary or strong or what, couldn’t be allowed to interfere right now.
“Did you know that killing someone with basilisk poison is illegal in Britain?”
“Is it specially illegal?”
“Eh?” Fudge started as though someone had asked him to walk over and pet Dash. Well, maybe not, Harry had to concede. He wasn’t running out of the room screaming, which was what Harry thought would really happen if someone asked him to pet Dash. “What do you mean, Mr. Potter?”
“Well, it just seemed to me that all poisons would be illegal, unless they were brewed by someone who had permission from the Minister.” Harry put on his best earnest face. “So that means killing someone with any poison would be illegal. Not just basilisk venom.”
Fudge shook his head. “You aren’t allowed to kill people with a basilisk, Mr. Potter!”
“You also aren’t allowed to perform untested alchemical rituals on them, I thought,” said Harry, and let his anger enter his voice. He thought it was okay. At least, both Severus and Dash squeezed him, but just lightly, and not like they were about to lose their tempers. “That was what Dumbledore and Flamel would have done to me.”
Fudge looked around as though he thought Dumbledore would come back to life and step out of the walls to rescue him. “I can’t—of course you’re right, Mr. Potter. But I don’t think we can hold Flamel solely responsible for it. He had a brewing partner he trusted, and—”
“What about Dumbledore?”
Fudge jerked as though someone had poked him in the back this time. “Dumbledore isn’t alive to be tried,” he said in a shrill voice. “Thanks to your basilisk.”
“I know. But what I meant was that you can try me for murder, but I’m going to testify about what Dumbledore did to me. He made the Triwizard Cup into a trap. He put me in the Tournament in the first place.” Harry leaned forwards, putting his elbows on his knees as he watched Fudge carefully. He looked as though he was going to explode or something. Harry didn’t really want him to do that, but on the other hand, he had to make his stance clear.
“I’m not going to lie down and take the blame for Dumbledore’s death. He was going to sever my bond with Dash—”
“What?” Fudge yelped, and sat up and stared at him.
Harry blinked a little, surprised at that sudden reaction. “That’s what he said. He thought I was behaving strangely because of Dash and my Slytherin friends, and he said that the pool would sever the bond and make me ‘normal’ again.”
Fudge leaned forwards with the same dreadful fascination he’d used to look at Dash earlier. “You mean that Dumbledore would have severed the bond and left the basilisk free of your control?” he whispered.
Oh. That’s why he’s so frightened. But Harry could work with this, and he didn’t even need Severus or Dash to tell him how. He put on his earnest look again and nodded. “Yes, sir. Absolutely. Dash would have been free then, and he probably would have killed Dumbledore anyway when he got to the cave.”
“Because he’s a basilisk, and he has no sense of restraint,” said Auror Train Whistle, and Harry had the sense that he was glaring sideways at Dash.
“I’m the only one who can reassure him, and I was in danger,” said Harry, and turned reproachful eyes on the Auror. “Can you blame him for attacking when he realized what was happening?”
Fudge cleared his throat, probably feeling that not enough people were paying attention to him now. “You speak sometimes of the basilisk as though he was fully intelligent, Mr. Potter—”
Harry opened his mouth to say something, and Severus touched his shoulder with a light motion of his fingers. Harry closed his mouth.
“And at other times as if it is a skittish pet, who needs a Parselmouth just to function in day-to-day life.” Fudge tapped his fingers on the desk, his eyes glittering in what he probably thought was a bit of cunning. “Which is it? Can we punish your snake for committing murder or not?”
“I don’t know. Are you going to punish Flamel for trying to drown me in an alchemical pool?”
Fudge spluttered a bit. “We can’t—that is to say, you can’t—”
“I was just curious, sir,” Harry said, and heard Severus smother a cough at his performance. Dash was just looking innocently around, as though he thought Harry should be perfectly capable of handling himself at all times.
“We have to have you go in front of the Wizengamot,” said Fudge abruptly, and he sounded as though he was trying to regain control of the conversation. “To tell them what you saw, and have you under Veritaserum.”
It didn’t take Severus’s hand, this time, to tell Harry that that was a bad idea. He sighed and looked down. “I just don’t understand why no one trusts me, sir,” he whispered. “I’m the one who got kidnapped and my bond with my basilisk almost severed, but I’m the one who’s being treated like a criminal.”
“A death happened, Mr. Potter!” Fudge was trying to sound stern and jolly both at once, and it wasn’t working very well. “You understand that we have to investigate that, of course!”
“I suppose I do.” Harry nodded doubtfully. “But at the same time, I want to know whether Flamel is going to be treated like a criminal, too.”
“A most respected alchemist—you must understand—”
“Is that a ‘no,’ Minister?” Severus’s voice was so cold that Harry winced. He also decided it was time to shut up and let Severus take over, at least if he was going to sound like that. “Do you mean to say that it is only my ward’s fault? That he is somehow responsible for his own kidnapping, and that you will not press charges against Flamel?”
“He’s admitted—some things. Not others.” Fudge licked his lips. “We need to have a session in front of the Wizengamot to decide. You understand.”
“I understand that your Aurors approached my ward at the breakfast table and tried to make him come with them alone. I understand that you seem intent on questioning the youngest person in that cave while you would leave adults alone.”
Harry scowled for a second. He wasn’t the youngest person there. I mean, yeah, technically Ron and Hermione and Draco are all older than I am, but you’re younger, Dash.
Dash flicked out his tongue as if he was laughing at him, and didn’t deign to take any notice.
“That was a misunderstanding!” Fudge waved his hands frantically. “They never meant to take young Mr. Potter without someone with him! It was just—there was some paperwork filed that said you wouldn’t be taking charge of him any longer.”
Severus stood so stiffly upright that Harry winced even though he knew that anger wasn’t directed at him. He could almost feel sorry for Fudge. “What do you mean?” he asked, and everyone shivered in the wake of his voice. “Who filed the paperwork?”
“Well, er,” said Fudge, and pulled out a thick sheet of parchment from a drawer in his desk. Harry swallowed. It was thick, sure, but it didn’t look important enough to be something that could destroy his life.
No one is going to destroy your life. I would run away with you from someone who tried to adopt you the same way I would have run away with you from Black.
“Well, Albus Dumbledore, actually,” said Fudge, and his voice sank to the point where Harry could hardly hear it.
“Ah,” said Severus, and his voice vibrated a little, in a way Harry had never heard even when Neville destroyed a bunch of rare Potions ingredients. “And of course we should trust the word of a man who lied to save his own skin, dressed up as another man to confuse the teachers and students of the school, tried several times to remove my ward’s basilisk, and had Flamel impersonate him.”
Fudge made a confused sound. “Professor Snape, if you would—there was never a trial, we don’t know if all those accusations are true—”
“But you think the accusations against my ward are true, without a chance for him to prove or act against them.” Severus was suddenly snarling, and Harry watched as Fudge turned pale.
You see? He can be as good a guardian as you allow him to be. He will certainly not let you go alone into danger.
Harry said nothing, simply petting Dash and watching as Fudge frantically backtracked. “Answers! Answers are all I want! I mean, that we want! We never sanctioned kidnapping—we never said it would be a good thing—”
“I never thought you wanted me to be kidnapped, Minister Fudge,” Harry said, deciding he had to intervene or the man would probably splutter on and be annoying for a lot longer. “I just didn’t know why you sent Aurors to collect me and bring me here by myself, and one of them was saying that my basilisk couldn’t come with me, either.” He glared at Auror Train Whistle.
“It must be illegal! I mean, maybe not for Salazar Slytherin’s descendants, but there’s no evidence that Potter’s one of them!”
Auror Howling had his face in his hands. Fudge waved a finger at the Auror. “That means that you were the one spreading these vicious rumors about me trying to separate Potter from his basilisk! Eh? Eh? Then you might as well turn in your resignation letter, and make sure that—”
“No need,” Severus interrupted smoothly. “As long as you can make it clear with your own words, Minister Fudge, that you never meant anyone to take this as an endorsement of separating Harry from his basilisk.”
“Eh?” Fudge said one more time, and slumped back in his chair, shaking his head a little. “Well, I suppose—we’re short on Aurors, we need all the ones we can get…” He squinted at Train Whistle. “Just don’t let me hear you speaking for me again, got it?”
“Yes, sir,” said the Auror, and gave everyone except the Minister a glare. Auror Howling took his hand away with a sigh. Dash flicked out his tongue, and spoke into Harry’s head.
I don’t know if we should leave this one alive behind us, either. He smells as if he’s getting ready to lash out at us.
Harry didn’t put his hand over his eyes, but he wanted to. You can’t go around killing people all the time, Dash. I told you that.
Why not?
Because that I would find some way to break the bond myself.
Dash’s head slid off his lap in his shock, but aside from a squeak from the Minister, everyone pretended not to notice. Fudge pulled at his robe collar. “I’m afraid that you do have to appear in front of us, Mr. Potter. The Wizengamot has gathered from all over, and disrupted their routines for the sake of hearing your testimony in the Dumbledore case.”
At least it’s not the Potter case, said Dash, his voice a little subdued.
“I don’t know, Severus. Do you think I should testify?” Harry asked, tilting his head back so he could meet his guardian’s eyes. He knew what Dash would say without having to ask, but he didn’t have that kind of mental connection with Severus.
When he saw the way Severus was peering at him, though, Harry had to wonder if he was starting to develop that kind of instinctive tendency to know what Severus was thinking. The man’s mouth was tight.
“If you want to,” said Severus at last, giving the Minister and the Aurors both looks that dismissed them as dust that had got onto a stirring rod. “It’s your choice.”
Which probably means that he doesn’t know all of the political consequences that could come from it, Dash remarked.
Harry looked at Fudge. “Then I’ll testify, so they’re not inconvenienced. But I’m not doing it under Veritaserum.”
Auror Train Whistle might have said something, but Harry didn’t get to hear more than the start of words in his throat before Auror Howling had him clamped by the arm. Fudge, meanwhile, scrambled to his feet and practically bowed Harry out the door.
“Of course, of course! You’re so gracious, Mr. Potter, taking time out of your busy day to come here. And you, too, Professor Snape!”
Harry tuned out the rest of the Minister’s words, because Dash was clamoring for his attention down the bond. Maybe he thought it was a terrible idea, Harry testifying before the Wizengamot, but you’d think he could have said so before now, Harry thought grumpily.
Dash had another concern, though. Did you mean what you said about leaving if I killed people?
Of course I did. That’s not the way to do it. I see why you had to kill Dumbledore, but you can’t go around just doing it to anyone you think deserves it.
Dash crawled along beside him for a while, as they went through corridors and up lifts that Dash had to coil himself around Harry to fit inside. Just before they got to the thick door that barred the way into a courtroom, Harry thought he heard him mutter, That changes some of my plans.
But Harry had no time to ask what he meant. The door swung open in front of them with a tap of Fudge’s wand, and left them facing the Wizengamot.
*
SP777: Thank you!
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A Brother to Basilisks