A Brother To Basilisks (a Drarry fanfic)

Chapter 9: Pale With the Knowledge

I think you need to calm down. Your heartbeat sounds like a rabbit's.

There wasn't much Harry could say to that. He knew he should calm down, and not because of his heartbeat reminding Dash of prey. He thought he should calm down because he would fall over and die of a heart attack if he didn't, and then he would miss what was going to happen next.

Who Sirius Black really was, what the big black dog curled obstinately in the bottom of the cage looked like when he was transformed back into a man, what was going to happen to Pettigrew, the truth, what Ron would say and whether anyone was going to reassure him that Pettigrew hadn't spied on him pissing, whether Snape would manage to glare a hole through Dumbledore...

If you want to know what happens next, then watch Snape, Dash commanded. I think he's the one who's going to act next. Dumbledore is just the one talking, and as we all know, there are more important creatures in the world than someone who just happens to be speaking English at the moment.

That made Harry snort and relax. A few of the adults, not used to his private conversations with Dash yet, glanced at him, but then they went right back to looking at Dumbledore. Ron actually gave Harry a wan smile. Maybe the snort reminded him there were normal things in the world, too.

There's not much less normal than waking up and finding out your pet rat is an Animagus, Harry thought, and punched Ron lightly on the shoulder. Ron relaxed even more.

The adults in McGonagall's office—McGonagall, Lupin, Pettigrew still in bonds in a corner, Snape, Dumbledore, and Harry supposed he had to count Black, if only as an adult dog—were mostly tense. But Snape was opening his mouth, and Dash bobbed his head for a second, a human gesture he liked. His tongue flicked out again. He smells of anger. A good, clean scent. It usually means someone is going to kill something.

That's not a good scent! Harry protested, a little horrified, but one of Dash's eyes turned towards him under its lid, and he knew the answer to that objection before Dash spoke it.

It is when you might get to eat the dead thing.

You prefer to kill your own prey anyway, Harry thought grumpily back to Dash at the same second as Snape said, "All of these platitudes about friendship and the rest of it are beside the point, Albus. Surely our mission here is to find out why Black managed to transform into a dog, and how. And what do with him now."

"We must let him tell his story, of course, my dear boy," said Dumbledore, beaming at Snape, and Harry thought Snape liked being called "my dear boy" about as much as Harry liked it when Vernon was trying to show off before a stranger and called him "nephew." "But first, we must let Sirius know that it's safe enough to transform back."

"If he doesn't know that, he's mad, and can be of no help to us anyway," said Snape, and turned around to sneer at Black.

"Or perhaps you could make your cage larger," Dumbledore suggested, so gently that Harry glanced at him again. He didn't think Dumbledore's eyes were gentle, but it was hard to tell. He didn't think he had ever heard Dumbledore when he wasn't being gentle, for one thing, and for another, so what? What did it matter if he had to tell Snape that the cage was too small? That was the kind of error Harry would probably have made, if he was the one casting the cage.

That's another spell you can learn, said Dash thoughtfully. Then you could trap some of my prey when it tried to escape.

Harry didn't even have time to retort. Snape had turned around and enlarged the cage without a word. All the dog did was snarl at them.

McGonagall took a step forwards and studied him. "I could force Sirius to reveal himself the way I did with Pettigrew, of course," she said, as though someone had demanded to know why she hadn't already. Harry thought all the adults were sounding uncertain, except Dumbledore. Well, and Pettigrew, but that was because Pettigrew was sniveling. "But I would rather not."