Chapter Thirteen of 'A Brother to Basilisks'- Fanning the Flames

[lomonaaeren]

Chapter Twelve.

Title: A Brother to Basilisks (13/?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairings: Eventual Harry/Draco and Ron/Hermione
Warnings: Angst, violence, some gore, AU from Prisoner of Azkaban onwards
Rating: R
Summary: AU of PoA. Harry wakes in the night to a voice calling him from somewhere in the castle-and when he follows it, everything changes. Updated every Friday.
Author’s Notes: This is a canon-divergent AU that starts after Chapter 7 of Prisoner of Azkaban. It will probably run to at least the mid-point of The Half-Blood Prince. It will also be long.

Chapter One.

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Thirteen--Fanning the Flames

"What is this about?" Severus asked, settling into the chair in front of Albus's desk that he kept for honored visitors, and alternating his bland gaze between Black and Lupin, who sat on either side of him.

Amazingly, he did feel as calm and bland as his voice suggested. He knew he had done nothing wrong, that he had even done something that would put Black in his debt by testifying at the Wizengamot trial. That meant he would not be compelled to put up with some of the nonsense that the so-called "Marauders" might get up to. Black might hate owing Severus the debt, but he would hesitate before attacking him in Albus's presence.

That I should have to think about my safety in front of Albus, among other adults...

But the thought of Black flailing around in this new world that he obviously didn't understand calmed him again. He turned back to Albus, who still hadn't spoken, but was sitting behind the desk and gazing at him with a spark deep in the back of his eyes.

"Well?" Severus asked, when some minutes had passed and still there was silence. He met Albus's gaze, and let a thought float near the surface of his mind that Albus could scoop off with Legilimency if he wanted to. You cannot intimidate me this way, when I have been in so many Death Eater meetings.

Maybe that thought did strike Albus's mind and make him take notice, because he sat up and shook his head. "I wanted to caution you, Severus."

"In what way?" Severus didn't fold his arms or cross his legs, and thought he heard a frustrated growl from Black.

"Against revealing Remus's lycanthropy to young Harry," said Albus.

Severus blinked. It was true that he had once thought he'd do that. A hint dropped in the right ears, and parents would be clamoring for Lupin's withdrawal from the school.

But Severus would have to remain here and teach in an environment that Albus's chiding could make unpleasant for him. And since the Wizengamot had declared Black innocent, Severus had dropped the plan entirely. It would turn Potter against him finally and for good. If a child, like the Granger girl, happened to figure it out, of course...

Severus shrugged. "I won't. I wasn't planning on it," he added, and smiled as Albus studied him closely. He would register the truth in that statement. Most skilled practitioners of Legilimency, although they couldn't infallibly detect lies, could detect truth when it was stated with enough conviction.

"I don't believe you!" Black was on his feet, his finger thrust out into Severus's face. Severus only regarded him. His wand was within reach if he needed it. "You already tried to turn Harry against me once before! You'd do it with Remus!"

"If you are talking about the conversation that you and I had when you sneaked into my Potions class," Severus drawled, letting Albus hear the truth in this statement as well, "I didn't mention that to Potter."

"You told him stories that prejudiced him," said Black, and his scowl was reminiscent of a snarl even though he hadn't opened his mouth.

"I would rather say that I told you stories that prejudiced you," Severus countered instantly. "You were rather shocked at the tale of his near-Sorting into Slytherin, weren't you?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lupin startle in turn, and checked a smile. "You were disappointed to find out that he wasn't the father who died when he was one year old."

Black shook his head, and stubbornly stuck to the track. "You've been mistreating him because he's like James in all his classes so far! People told him that!"

Who was your informant? Lupin? Severus rather doubted the boy had complained of Severus himself. Or perhaps his Gryffindor friends had been chatty.

"It is true that I had misconceptions," said Severus, privately wondering why Albus was not stopping this charade. On the other hand, he had never figured out why Albus granted Black an indulgence and license that he did not offer to anyone else. "I have corrected those misconceptions, and I intend to treat him better now."

"You shouldn't have treated him badly at all!"

Severus had nothing to say to that, and simply watched Black. He wondered if Black would be this incensed if it was anyone other than Potter. Severus did not see him taking Neville Longbottom's side. Or if Black would have been more incensed if he hadn't had cause to doubt that Potter was exactly like his father.

"That is enough, Sirius," said Albus at last, cutting Black off as he opened his mouth to rant again. "In the meantime." He turned around and met Severus's eyes. "I must insist that you keep Remus's lycanthropy to yourself, Severus. And any other remarks that you may have been tempted to make about Sirius or James. It is not appropriate for you to be tormenting your students."

You never cared before. But Severus could easily give up "tormenting" Potter, since he had decided that being the boy's ally was more diplomatic. He only nodded, hiding his emotions. "Yes. I will do that. Can I go?"

"I don't trust him!"

"What would you suggest?" Severus asked, tired of this now, turning back to Black and letting his voice sharpen. "Albus asked me here to give him my word. If you doubt that--"

"I'm sure that we can trust Severus, Sirius." Lupin spoke for the first time, his amber eyes traveling back and forth from his friend's face to Severus's. Severus might have found them more reassuring if he didn't remember them glowing with madness in the darkness of a tunnel. "He promised, and he has to know what would happen if he broke that promise."

Most likely, nothing, Severus thought, and met Lupin's gaze solidly as well. Albus needs me more than he needs you, whom he only gave a job out of pity. I was his spy. I may well be again.

As if he had read Severus's thoughts at that precise moment, Albus cut in. "Yes, you can trust Severus, Remus. Sirius." He spoke the last word as a reprimand, and Black sat down and scowled at Severus. "I would ask, in fact, that you excuse me and Severus. I need to speak to him alone."

Black opened his mouth, but Lupin stood up and walked over to the door that led out of the office, nodding to Severus. Black seemed to realize that he would look silly if he did anything but follow. Still, Severus was vaguely surprised when he did. Looking foolish had never stopped Black before. Severus wasn't even entirely sure that he did know when he would look foolish.

"Well," said Albus, when a few minutes had passed since the departure of the other two and Severus reckoned that Black had given up listening at the door, "I confess myself curious as to the source of your better treatment of Harry, Severus. Is it only the snake? Or did knowing that he might have been Sorted into Slytherin and made the choice to go elsewhere change your opinion of him?"

Severus gently tightened his Occlumency shields and smiled at Albus. "I reconsidered what you had told me, about the son not being the father. I realized you were right."

Albus only watched him. Severus only watched him back. He owed Albus much, but not perfect insight into his private thoughts and motivations.

Albus finally sighed and said, "Keep your counsel if you will. But you should know the Ministry is looking over my shoulder. Some of the things that Harry said in his interview with the Quibbler have provoked them."

"What were they?" Severus had read the article himself, and except for a brief paragraph at the beginning which was typical Xenophilius Lovegood posturing about how wonderful magical creatures were and how more people should be paying them attention, it read like a children's story. Potter told things straightforwardly, Severus would give him that. Even his lies usually were direct.

"It was the existence of the interview itself that provoked them." Albus folded his hands on the desk. "Cornelius didn't like Harry speaking without his authorization."

"I see," said Severus. "And why are you telling me this?" It did seem like the kind of thing a godfather should deal with, more than a professor, particularly one who wasn't even Potter's Head of House.

"You have a few contacts in the Ministry that even I do not," Albus said neutrally. "I was hoping you could learn if Cornelius really does mean to do something to harm Harry, or whether this is political noise that will die down soon."

"You mean," said Severus, who did not know if he was enjoying himself or not, only that he was feeling a quicksilver mood rushing through him at the moment, "that I should be able to tell from the former Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy exactly what Fudge is planning to do. Because Lucius has him under his thumb."

"Not as bad as that, surely," said Albus, with a falsely hearty smile. Severus had never seen it be so false. "Cornelius does listen to me. On occasion."

"Sometimes, yes," Severus agreed, and tried not to stare at Albus. It was odd of him to act this way, but he had been odd ever since Potter had adopted his basilisk. Perhaps that event's ripples of strangeness had not yet subsided, at least for Albus.

Perhaps not for any of us.

Severus stood, but he did ask one question, although he didn't think he would get an answer any more than he had the other times. "What makes you so forgiving of Black when you were not of others?" He would not mention his own name in connection with Black's, even for the length of a sentence.

Albus pushed his glasses up and looked at Severus with the distant gaze that Severus was well-accustomed to, as though Albus had temporarily forgotten what Severus's face looked like. "Hmmm? What was that, my boy?"

"You give him chances that you don't give other people," said Severus, and as he thought on it, he found a comparison that made more sense than the one with himself. "Even Potter. You wanted to read Potter's mind to look at his bond with the basilisk. You never did that with Black, even after he almost killed me." And there, there was the mention after all, so Severus might as well go the rest of the way and speak of what he had sworn to himself he not speak of. "Why did you never believe my side of the story, but you instantly believed Black's? Why were you so willing to think him innocent when you heard his story about Pettigrew, which must sound fantastic until it was confirmed under Veritaserum?"

Albus sighed a little. "My dear boy, I simply admired his courage."

"His courage," Severus repeated blankly. Yes, he had always known the headmaster favored Gryffindors, but that did not make sense of the sudden exclusion of Potter from Albus's good graces. After all, slaying a basilisk last year had required plenty of courage.

"His courage in running away from his family," said Albus, and his voice warmed in a way that assured Severus he was hearing the truth. Of course, he was a master Legilimens himself, although he rarely chose to make use of the talent against Albus. "And taking shelter with a family he could be sure would not send him back. He had the courage to stand up against his relatives when they violated his principles."

Severus was still for a moment.

That moment was the one when he could have walked out of Albus's office and not reacted. Instead, he lashed out and knocked the papers, silver instruments, and crystal globe on Albus's desk to the floor. Albus stared at him with genuine astonishment--genuine, Severus thought, for once--in his blue eyes.

"My boy," he whispered, "why? Why can compassion shown to one person trouble you so?"

"Because," said Severus, and leaned forwards with his teeth clenched, "you had no mercy on me when I almost died at the hands of your principled Gryffindor. I thought it was because it was a Slytherin. But now I begin to understand why. Because I never stood up against my father? Because I never ran away from my mother and left her behind to face my father alone? Do I need to remind you that Black left a younger brother behind?"

Albus stared at him out of an incomprehension so deep that Severus knew at once he had not made the impression he meant to, violence or not. It could have been down to the difference in Houses. It could have been that Albus hadn't known Regulus Black, and hadn't known that Regulus had become a Death Eater mostly to please his parents.

It could be, Severus thought, that Albus knew somewhere in his heart he was wrong, and he wouldn't change his mind, because that would confront him with all the consequences of his mistakes.

"My dear boy," Albus said, "surely the past--"

"And what is your excuse with Potter?" Severus whispered. Something was coiling darkly in his mind, something thick and horrible, something with fangs that would shame a basilisk's. "Was his courage not great enough? Or does he not have the sort of family that you would applaud him for running from?"

Albus blinked, and blinked some more. Then he chuckled. "Harry grew up with Muggles, Severus. I hardly doubt that they had impressions or insights into Dark or Light magic that they could have offered him."

Severus stared, and said nothing for long moments. Then he murmured, "You gave him to Petunia Evans?"

"Petunia Dursley, as she's been for some time now," Albus corrected him, and gave Severus a soft smile. "If you would take the time to get to know Harry for himself, Severus, I think you would come to see him as his own person, and not simply a method to take revenge on James."

Severus returned something, he never remembered what, and turned for the door. But he did remember what he said when he stood there with his hand on the door. "What is it about Potter's courage that you find deficient, Headmaster?" he asked, his back turned.

Albus sighed. "The time is not right yet to discuss that with you, Severus."

"If you expect me to treat the boy the way you treat Black, then you should tell me."

"My dear Severus! Did I say that?"

"I want to know. I deserve to know, by the vow that I gave you."

There was a pause, and then Albus answered, again in a voice of truth. Severus knew that Albus generally did when Severus invoked Lily's name. "He has the courage to face basilisks and Voldemort, and even to go seeking a voice in the darkness when he doesn't know who's calling him. But I am not sure that he will have the courage to face what I must ask of him, and because of that, I dare not love him too much."

Severus closed the door noiselessly behind him.

*

Harry stood up, even though Hermione was trying to keep him at the library table beside her. "Where are you going?" she hissed softly at him. "We need to work on this Transfiguration essay."

"Malfoy is just over there," Harry told her. "I need to talk to him." He felt Dash shift on his shoulder, and heard the humming in the back of his mind that meant Dash was ready to talk to Malfoy, the way Harry had asked him. Harry had promised that he would translate what Dash had to say, but he thought his basilisk could get through to Malfoy where he couldn't, that he might even be honored Dash was talking to him.

Mind you, it had taken a lot of bribery with mice that Harry promised to catch and set loose in an abandoned portion of the dungeons before Dash would agree to talk to Malfoy. But Harry thought it would be worth it, if he could keep Malfoy from doing something stupid. Sure, he'd killed that basilisk, but that didn't make the Chamber safe.

You must tell me more about how you killed it. I want to know, in case someone ever tries to kill me the same way when I'm trying to defend you, Dash muttered at him.

You can just look at my memories and get the story that way, Harry said in a distracted voice, dodging after Malfoy. It looked like he was going into the section of the library that had books on the Founders' time. That made sense, given what he was after.

I want to hear you tell it, said Dash in an ominous tone, and his tail curled around the upper part of Harry's arm, just in the place where he would be Marked if he was a Death Eater, and squeezed.

Okay, Harry said, and rubbed his knuckles right behind Dash's plume. As he had thought would happen, that made Dash go boneless on him. He really couldn't resist being scratched right there. Harry grinned. He needed some advantage when he was dealing with Dash's size and smelling capabilities and poison and deadly gaze and magic and all the rest of it.

I am pleased to note that you list a sharp sense of smell among my advantages.

Harry didn't have time to answer, because he came around a corner and nearly ran straight into Malfoy. Malfoy was kneeling over a thick book, frowning down at the dust that kept falling from the corners of its cover every time he turned a page. When he saw Harry, he stood up and turned around, clutching the book to him. Harry only had time to see a writhing illustration of a snake on the cover, but it was easy enough to guess what Founder Malfoy would be looking up if he intended to find the Chamber of Secrets.

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy asked, and sneered at him. "You don't want anyone else getting their own basilisk, do you? You think it might make you less special?"

"Dash has something he wants to say to you," Harry said firmly, ignoring the temptation to respond to the insults. For one thing, a response wouldn't actually shut Malfoy up; he knew that. He extended his arm, and Dash wound slowly and gracefully along it, only flicking his tongue out when he was actually near Malfoy. Harry tried to ignore the way that the basilisk's weight was making his arm sag, and hoped it still looked impressive.

Malfoy went as still as though he expected to hear English coming out of Dash's mouth. It was certainly the first time Dash had been this focused on someone other than Harry, and Harry had to bite his lip a little. He was not jealous. He was the one who had asked Dash to do this, so he couldn't be jealous of the way Dash was regarding Malfoy.

Remember this the next time you ask me to speak to someone else, said Dash smugly.

Harry focused on Malfoy, and asked Dash, What did you want to say to him?

That you only survived the way down to the Chamber because you speak Parseltongue, said Dash. There were all sorts of traps around us that I assumed you saw when we came back up through the tunnel, but then I realized you didn't. You were walking right past them, and they didn't affect you. They smelled like blood. This Slytherin of yours soaked them with his blood, and he must have thought that only someone who had his blood could speak properly and walk past them. He was wrong.

Harry shivered a little. But I did take two other people with me into the Chamber when I went down there the first time.

They didn't pass into the parts of the Chamber where the traps lurked, then. Or they were safe because they were with you.Dash cocked his head and flicked his tongue out. Malfoy didn't take his eyes from Dash's head. He was fascinated as Harry had seen no one else but Luna and her father be with a basilisk, although he also thought Malfoy was thinking about the advantages in power a basilisk would give him.

"Dash says that Slytherin left traps in the Chamber," Harry murmured. "I didn't even know about them. He left them covered with his blood, so that supposedly only someone of his blood could go down there."

Malfoy gave him a quick look. "But you aren't of the blood of Slytherin."

Harry wanted to retort that he must be more Slytherin than Malfoy was thinking, but he didn't see a reason to antagonize him like that. "The traps didn't work the way Slytherin thought they did. They would let anyone who was a Parselmouth pass." Harry shrugged. "I s'pose Slytherin thought that only someone who had his blood could be a Parselmouth. His loss. My gain." He put his hand on Dash's back.

Malfoy looked back and forth between him and Dash, and then said, "Then what's this nonsense about Weasleys being in the Chamber?"

"Ron came with me." Harry shrugged again. "Someone who came with me could pass through the traps, Dash said. Or at least that's the only explanation he can come up with." He did think telling Malfoy there might be safe parts of the Chamber wasn't a good idea.

There shall be a dead mouse on your pillow in the morning, said Dash, in tones of what might have been thunder if he was talking aloud.

"Then all you have to do is take me down to the Chamber and I would be--"

Malfoy abruptly stopped talking. Harry looked around for a second, thinking that someone had come up behind them and Malfoy didn't want to be seen talking to Potter of all people, but then he realized Malfoy was looking at him with big eyes and a clamped white mouth.

"No," Malfoy whispered. "I asked for help once. I'm not going to do it again."

He turned his back and walked away again, and he took the big book with the snake on it with him. Harry stretched out a hand and opened his mouth, but he had no time to delay Malfoy, much like the last time, before someone did come up behind him.

"Potter."

Snape's voice made Harry try to flinch on instinct, but Dash coiled around him in a way that prevented that movement. Harry was sure that Dash had studied how to do that.

Do not worry about the one Slytherin, Dash said. If you must insist on referring to them in that silly way and not by scent. He is young and stupid, and he will either not find the Chamber or he will find it and die.

Dash! That doesn't--

And the older one doesn't smell as though he wishes to harm you, Dash finished smugly, his tail snapping back and forth.

Snape? Not wish to harm him? Harry reckoned he could see that, but for Snape to come find him in the library, he still must have done something pretty bad. He turned around and looked up at Snape, waiting.

Snape stood looking down at him with such a blank expression that Harry began to wonder if it was something Sirius had done, instead. He'd almost opened his mouth to apologize when Snape said, "Potter. Come with me. I must speak with you."

And he put a hand on Harry's elbow and began to steer him towards the dungeons, like he thought Harry might get lost or something.

Harry went, blinking.

Chapter Fourteen.

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