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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-Eight—Scenes From a Rising Side
“We know that you are here. Show yourself, stranger.”
Remus shivered a little as he stood against the immense pine tree looming over him. He could hear the steady beat of ocean waves a short distance away. The Muggles thought this was essentially a barren stretch of coastline. Whitepaw had been one of the witches and wizards who enchanted them into forgetting the dark forest here.
Even right after she became a werewolf, she had been strongly involved in trying to keep her pack safe.
“All right,” said Remus, and stepped out into plain sight. He hoped that no one would kill him before he could deliver his message. He had never been sure how Whitepaw’s pack could know how a stranger had been turned by Fenrir, but maybe there were messages in the scent that Remus didn’t have practice in interpreting.
There was a growl that sounded louder than either the waves or Remus’s heart, and the werewolf came stalking out of the shadows of the trees, her head bowed and her white hair rippling behind her. Remus jumped when he realized this was Whitepaw herself. No one else would fit the description he had.
“Why have you come here, tainted one?”
“Because I want to learn your mental discipline to control my wolf instead of taking Wolfsbane.” At least she’d let him speak a full sentence without trying to eviscerate him.
Whitepaw paused for a long moment, and sniffed again. “Could I have been mistaken?” she whispered, and Remus didn’t try to answer, since he was pretty sure she was talking to herself. “But I know the taint of Greyback’s kin…who have you killed?”
“No one.”
“What is your name?”
“Remus Lupin.” Remus paused, but Whitepaw went on staring at him and sniffing doubtfully, and didn’t seem inclined to worry about whether he was telling the truth. “I’m a friend and ally of Harry Potter. I came here because I want to learn your discipline so I can actually fight for him instead of being dangerous.” He wouldn’t say anything about recruiting Whitepaw’s pack. It might not be possible, anyway.
“I know your name. You left Britain last year.”
Remus nodded. “And I came back when I heard about what Harry had been through. He’s the son and godson of my dearest friends, and he’ll have enemies on all sides, with You-Know-Who after him and people who were allies of Dumbledore against him now. So I want to learn something that could help his cause.”
Whitepaw kept sniffing. Then she moved fully out of the trees, and let Remus get a good look at her. She looked older than Greyback, but also wilder, as if she had spent more time communing with her wolf than in its thrall. Her face didn’t have thick lines, and her eyes burned a steady gold.
“Harry Potter wants to fight with werewolves?”
“He wants to create his own side,” Remus said. He hated revealing even this much, but he thought he had Harry’s authorization to do so. “I know that some werewolves will become allies of You-Know-Who. Harry wants to show that his side does welcome Dark creatures, so perhaps he can gain more allies.”
Whitepaw prowled slowly to the side. Remus didn’t turn to face her, which might be seen as too challenging, but stared straight ahead. He could keep track of her now that the wind was blowing towards him, anyway.
“You speak of him familiarly.”
“I told you, he was the son of my best friends—”
“Yes. But do you know that he has Salazar Slytherin’s soul?”
“His basilisk does. That’s not the same thing.”
Whitepaw made a sound that had both laughter and snarl in it. “It is the same thing to us.”
Remus only remained still, not really sure what Whitepaw meant. In the end, she finished her prowling circle and ended up in front of him.
“Yes,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “I think I will try to train you in our mental discipline. Of course, if you do something to hurt one of us or prove that you carry Greyback’s taint more deeply than you smell of, the punishment shall not be pleasant. Come!” And she turned and led the way into the forest, moving as confidently as though she had four feet right now.
Remus didn’t really see that he had any other choice but to follow.
*
Lucius frowned a little at the head that had appeared in the fire. Severus looked not drawn and pale, as Lucius had thought he would with the decisions and pressures piling on him, but smug.
If he has come to use the artifact to remove his Dark Mark, he will soon learn better. Lucius tilted his head in response and stood. “Severus. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Yes. Harry wants to speak with you.”
Lucius couldn’t deny the way his heartbeat quickened. He hadn’t seen Harry Potter since the declaration that his basilisk had the soul of Salazar Slytherin. “Very well. Tell him that he is welcome to come through the fire.”
Severus chuckled, and Lucius paused. There was a nasty edge to that laughter that he hadn’t heard in many years. “Oh, he doesn’t intend to come into your house until he has more of a promise from you, Lucius.”
“I would never harm the boy.”
“The promise concerns you interfering politically between him and his allies.”
“You know I did the right thing by informing the pure-blood families, Severus. The news would hardly have been safe to announce through the Prophet. And it wasn’t as if the boy would do it of his own free will.”
Severus eyed him unblinkingly, then said, “That attitude is part of what will need to change.” But he went on before Lucius could ask what he meant. “Harry is behind me. Do you want to speak with him or not?”
“Of course I do.” Lucius resigned himself to a Floo conversation, and conjured a cushion for his knees.
The sight of the boy as he stepped forwards and thrust his head into the flames distracted Lucius from the thought of his knees. He stared. The boy had a pale, proud expression he had never seen before, and he stood with his arms folded as if he was judging Lucius for…something. Lucius found himself holding his breath, and shook his head out with a sharp motion. He would not surrender a jot of his dignity even for the boy he was relying on to save him and start a new side in the war. He had done that with the Dark Lord for too long.
“Greetings, Mr. Potter,” he said instead of surrendering. “I did what I thought best, because—”
“I know you did. I’m not so concerned about the past. I’m concerned about making sure that the past doesn’t extend into the future.”
Lucius paused and cocked his head. “I would not reveal any more secrets like that, of course, if you do not wish me to. But this is too politically important a secret to keep.”
“What would be examples of other secrets like that?”
Lucius hoped that Potter would provide those examples, but instead he simply waited, and forced Lucius to leap into the pause. “If, for example, I found out that you had changed sides and intended to cooperate with the Dark Lord. Or if you found a way to hatch other basilisks and distribute them to trusted allies.”
He thought that last was a pipe dream, given what Draco had told him about the bond between Potter and Dash. Even if Potter wanted the basilisks to obey his allies, it was impossible if they weren’t Parselmouths. But he would not say no if Potter wanted to try it and he had a vial of phoenix’s tears on hand.
“I see,” said Potter, and his voice was weary. “Then I need to keep you out of my most secret counsels until I don’t need to keep them secret anymore. Thank you for informing me of this, Lucius.”
“That is not what I meant!”
“You’ve basically said that you think you should be in charge of distributing secrets about me, and you don’t trust me when I say that I might have a reason for keeping them quiet. So I can’t tell you anything important now.” Potter leaned back in a way that might have meant he was looking up at Severus. “Did you have anything else to say to Lucius?”
“Potter, wait—”
“No. I think you made the point clear, Harry.” Severus dipped back into view, and the sight of the smirk on his face made Lucius want to claw it off. “I’ll be by soon to use the artifact, Lucius.”
“What makes you think I’ll let you take advantage of it if we aren’t allies?”
“Oh, we are allies, of course! I hope nothing today gave you the opposite impression. What needs to be judged carefully is what kind of allies we are. And it sounds like we’re the kind who can trust each other as long as vital secrets aren’t part of the occasion.”
Lucius stared at Severus, speechless with rage, and still more than half thinking about refusing to let him use the artifact when he inevitably showed up and asked for permission. Severus bent closer to the fire, and his voice took on a hollow, hissing sound that Lucius wondered distantly if he was letting Potter hear.
“You had your chance, Lucius. You showed that you cared more about your own political importance than you care for maintaining the trust of your allies. You sacrificed that trust for your gain. Well, a sacrifice wouldn’t hurt if there was no price.”
And Severus’s face disappeared from the fire.
Lucius sat for a moment with his eyes closed. He was surprised that both Severus and Potter could have misunderstood his intentions so badly. He had not meant to promote his own importance or take control of the enterprise, as Severus insinuated. He had only meant to put forth a secret that Potter would never consent to spread, and make things happen that should not be locked in the darkness.
Then Lucius grimaced. Very well, looked at like that, he could see what it would look like to Severus.
But he would not have thought Potter so set against him by the words of other allies. Draco should have spoken for Lucius. He should have been able to counteract Severus’s impression of the truth, unless Lucius had underestimated the strength of the bond between his son and the Boy-Who-Lived.
Lucius rose to his feet, grimacing. I had better not have. The bond is one of the best things to come out of this.
And Potter still must be more political than he has been, or we will lose this war before we begin it.
*
Harry closed his eyes. There were a bunch of pure-bloods in the next room, shifting around and muttering to each other. He didn’t know what they were saying, because he was hardly going to stand with his ear to the door, but knowing they were there was enough to make him sick to his stomach.
Imagine how they will feel when they see me.
Harry opened his eyes and frowned. “I told you not to threaten anyone at this party, Dash. Not unless they threaten me first. And an actual threat, not one you invented because you’re hungry.”
It is not a party. And I am not talking about threatening them. Dash lashed his tongue out and laughed all the way down to the deep bond, making Harry feel for a moment as if he was swimming in stars. I am talking about what will happen when they see me.
Harry blinked, coming back to a realization of how strangers looked at Dash that felt as if he had been forgetting it for months. “They’re going to see a sixteen-foot-basilisk sliding into the room, and they know what could happen if you forgot yourself and opened your eyes.”
Which is not going to happen, of course. Dash turned his head back and forth as if he wanted Harry and everyone else in the next room to see how the clear outer eyelids stayed shut. But part of your job is making sure that everyone thinks it could happen at any moment. That will create the atmosphere we desire.
“Um, no it won’t,” Harry said, lowering his voice as someone in the next room made a really loud noise, and then he gave up and switched to the mental talking. We want a non-threatening atmosphere. We want people to see me as a good potential ally, someone who can actually work with both Dark and Light.
No. We want people to see you as a dangerous person guarded by his basilisk.
Harry shook his head furiously, and would have said something else, but Severus opened the far door and looked at him calmly. “It’s time. I think this would be the perfect moment for a basilisk with the soul of Salazar Slytherin to enter the room.”
Harry held his breath for a few seconds, something that had often calmed him down when he was imprisoned in his cupboard. Then he smiled at Severus and crossed the few steps in between them. His dress robes whispered over the stones. At least they were different than the ones he’d been forced to wear at the Yule Ball. “Thank you.”
“What is wrong?” Severus settled a hand on his shoulder under the guise of stroking a wrinkle out of his robe.
“Dash is being difficult.”
“Tell him that he will lose you substantial political advantages if he does not play up to your guests.”
I can hear him perfectly well myself. And I disagree on the political advantage.
Harry rolled his eyes, aware that some of their audience might be watching him, but not really able to do anything else. He had to translate for Dash and Severus. “He thinks I would be better off with people being afraid of me. Or the person they think I am, a Parselmouth who can control a giant basilisk.”
“That is true.”
“Fine, a Parselmouth who would unleash the basilisk on them.” Harry turned and stared gloomily at the door. Before, he had been bored by the notion of this party but not afraid of it. He’d thought he could handle the guests the way he’d handled Clarence Greengrass. And now Dash and Severus were making it all complicated again.
“You must walk a thin line,” Severus said, drawing Harry’s gaze back to him. “Someone who can unleash a giant basilisk, but who would? No, that is the line I do not want you to cross.” He crouched down in front of Harry, something he normally only did when he wanted his complete attention, and Harry looked at him in wonder. “That is the line you must make Dash understand he is not to cross, either.”
I understand it.
Harry sighed a little. “He understands it,” he explained to Severus. “That doesn’t mean that he’s going to stay on the right side of it.”
Severus reached out and tapped his fingers on Dash’s nose. The gesture was so unexpected that Harry just stood there, blinking, and Dash didn’t look as if he really knew what to do, either. “You know better than that,” Severus said softly, and he was speaking to Dash directly instead of through Harry, something he almost never did, either. “You would increase your own pleasure at the cost of Harry’s confidence and security? And political strength? I do not believe that.”
Dash tapped his tail on the floor hard enough that Harry thought he was going to spit words at Severus Harry would be required to translate. Instead, he let his head flop down and whined at Harry, I know. I know. I was only having a bit of fun. You’d think that you’d know when I was joking by now.
Your joking tone sounds just like your serious tone, you know?
Dash moved his head a little to the side, and said without words that Harry should know better. But he also said, with words, You can tell your Snape that I won’t spoil things for you. I will simply remain alert at your side and accept any presents or kind words addressed to Lord Slytherin. Then he added, plaintively, I bet Snape wouldn’t have tapped Salazar Slytherin on the nose and told him to behave himself.
The way he said it made Harry a little suspicious. Do you know someone who would have?
Only Rowena.
Harry wanted to ask more about that, but Severus, with a warning scowl that Harry knew was aimed at Dash more than him, had already stood up and flung the doors into the next room open.
Harry swallowed. They were borrowing a huge ballroom in Longbottom Manor for the occasion. Severus had said both Hogwarts and Malfoy Manor would have unfortunate political implications, and Harry and Severus didn’t have houses large enough themselves for it. Neville had said that he wanted to be beside Harry.
Neville didn’t even seem that surprised or fazed that Dash had Salazar Slytherin’s soul. He kept sneaking glances at Dash as if he wanted to ask questions, and he was doing it again from the other side of the ballroom door. His grandmother stood with one hand on a thick cane, and she hadn’t taken her eyes from Dash since they arrived, it seemed like.
Then again, you need a lot of watching, Harry thought to Dash as they moved forwards, and Severus nodded at people on one side, and Harry did the same for people on the other.
Dash didn’t bother to respond. He was checking people out himself, once rearing his entire bulk off the floor to look at a platter of thick cheese that a woman was eating. She looked as if she was going to faint for a minute, and then smiled bravely and held out a piece of cheese on a stick for him to smell. Dash stuck his tongue out, hissed in disappointment, and dropped back to the floor.
What was that all about?
I thought she might be using the cheese to attract mice. But not even mice would be stupid enough to eat something that smells like that.
Harry would have argued for the sake of having something to argue about, but Clarence Greengrass stepped forwards then, and Harry did feel compelled to pay attention to him.
“My dear Mr. Potter,” said Greengrass, and bowed to him, in a sweeping manner that at least reassured Harry the man was the same as he had been the last time they met. “You are most welcome. Let me introduce you to some of the people who have come out to support you and Lord Slytherin.” He gave Dash a mildly impressed glance as he turned, hand on Harry’s shoulder, and Dash reared up on the other side of him, twining in a great wave as he turned his head from side to side.
Harry gritted his teeth and nodded at the people waiting for him, some of whom he’d already nodded at. Applause broke in a wave around him, and Severus bore it with a half-smile. Dash kept bobbing his head with every appearance of enjoyment.
Harry wondered if he was the only one who felt like he was roasting in the fire of his embarrassment. Really, these people were here to see Dash, not him, and except for needing to be a translator, he could have skipped coming.
“Mr. Harry Potter,” said Greengrass, and steered Harry over to a woman with skin so pale Harry wondered if she was sick. “This is Juliet Parkinson.”
Harry couldn’t help but give her a little stare as he shook her hand, and the woman seemed to understand it. She gave a small, restrained laugh. “Not the mother of your dear classmate Pansy. She’s my brother’s daughter. I’m the head of the family, but I’ve never seen the use of marrying.”
And her magic is Dark and moving all around her, said Dash in interest. She must have great control of it.
Harry would have liked to spend a little more time chatting to Madam Parkinson, but Greengrass had other people for him to meet, and the names blended in a long litany in Harry’s head. Flint, Yeldson, Williams, Leobald, Shafiq, Dazzle-Gaunt, Tyrone…
But at last Harry did see someone else he recognized. He blinked and wondered if she should acknowledge Elena Zabini as she shook his hand firmly.
Madam Zabini took the choice out of his hands by inclining her head and murmuring, “My son is as well as can be expected. Thank you for your quick wits and your steady hand, Mr. Potter.” Her smile widened as some of the people around them murmured and Greengrass looked disgruntled.
For that matter, Harry wasn’t sure exactly what she was referring to, but he acted gracious, and he didn’t need Severus’s hard press on his shoulder to make him do it. “You’re welcome, Madam Zabini,” he said, and Dash twined around his ankles and moved him on to the next person.
You don’t like her? Harry asked Dash as he shook the hand of yet another nameless person. He knew Mrs. Longbottom had refused to have any actual Death Eaters in her home, but that still left an awful lot of stuffy pure-bloods.
She’s dangerous. She could poison you with a touch.
Harry thought about that as he smiled at Narcissa Malfoy. She was here without her husband, but that didn’t mean a lot when most people knew how firmly the Malfoys were allies of Harry’s. Literally?
Now you sound as if wish to court danger as much as I want you to stay away from it.
Harry shook his head as he held out his hand and watched another generically pure-blooded man shake it. He thought this one might be on the Light side of the fence, though, from the way he scowled at Narcissa and Mrs. Zabini and a few of the other Darker family representatives. No, I don’t want to court it. I just want to know if she could literally poison me or not.
Dash opened his mouth and lunged at the man in front of them.
Harry was twisting his body to prevent it even as it happened, and then he saw the gleam of the knife in the wizard’s hand and realized that maybe he was misplacing his sympathy. But the knife was too close, it was going to cut—
It bounced off Dash’s fangs as he opened his mouth and hissed. The sound filled the whole room and made almost everyone who had been turning towards them freeze. The exception was Severus, who leaned down and jerked Harry firmly backwards, then Body-Bound the man in front of him.
Harry, panting, realized that he’d been too involved in his conversation with Dash to realize who the man was.
“Cyan, how could you?” Greengrass was all but wringing his hands. “What is Harry going to think of us?”
Harry tilted his head back so that he could catch Severus’s eye. Severus grimaced a little, but understood the question without hearing it, and answered it. “Cyan Scrimgeour. Related to the current Head of the Aurors.”
“Oh,” said Harry weakly. “That’s…interesting.”
“Indeed. Now, restrain your basilisk, and let us continue the party if we can.”
Harry swallowed, and smiled, and turned back to shaking hands and kissing them. And people seemed to follow him, to fall in around him, as if this kind of thing happened every day in the circles they aspired to enter.
Maybe it did.
I want no part of them.
You have to have a part of them, Dash said gently. But don’t worry. I have the other part.
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A Brother to Basilisks