A Brother To Basilisks (a Drarry fanfic)

Chapter 15: The Sullen Glow

"What's up with you, mate?" Ron demanded, out of the blue as far as Harry was concerned.

Harry blinked and looked at Ron. They were sitting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, and so far, Ron had mostly been interested in filling his mouth with food. Harry shared that desire. He still hadn't got used to being able to eat as much as he liked of eggs and buttered toast, which Dudley and Vernon usually consumed all of.

"What?" Harry asked, and tried Dash with an egg. As usual, Dash flicked out a tongue and touched the shell, then retreated at once.

I prefer raw eggs only. I like to kill my own prey.

You can't kill an egg.

That only proves that you've never tried to smell the young chicken in the egg.

Harry cracked the boiled egg against the edge of his plate and ate it himself, shaking his head at Ron. "I still don't know what you mean," he added helpfully, when Ron went on staring at him.

Ron gave an explosive sigh. "You've acted as though someone took away your best friend for the past two days. And since I'm still sitting right here, that can't be it."

Harry managed a mechanical smile, but he knew Ron noticed the difference from the real thing, especially when Hermione leaned around Harry's other side and chimed in. "Yes, and you didn't seem to mind Potions so much, either, but now you're back to scowling at Snape again. And he hasn't gone back to his bad treatment of you. Honestly, Harry, there's so much theory in Potions that can help you when you give it the chance..."

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry muttered, and extended a spoonful of his porridge to Dash. Sometimes Dash would consent to eat food made from plants in a way that he wouldn't food made from animals unless he managed to kill it himself.

This morning, Dash graciously sipped from his spoon, and then said, Your friends are right, you know. This anger that you have towards everything in general and Snape in particular is silly. You know full well that you only have to be angry at the old man, and perhaps the smelly dog-man.

Why can you call Snape by his name and not Sirius? Harry asked in irritation.

He smells better.

Ron interrupted again. "But I want you to talk about it, mate, since I never know whether you're going to be surly or give me that fake smile that you try on me when you think no one can see through you." He resisted the glare that Harry gave him, only smiling faintly as if he thought Harry's anger was amusing. "Come on, then. If it doesn't have to do with us, then you can tell us, right? And if it has to do with Snape, I want to hear." He shoved himself close to Harry and cocked his head.

Harry shot a quick glance at the Head Table before he could help himself. Snape gave him a bland look and went back to eating. Harry tensed in spite of himself, but Snape appeared utterly content to ignore him and only pay attention to his breakfast.

Harry sighed and turned back. "Fine. I—I had a conversation with Snape that didn't go well."

You can talk about things that displease you after all, Dash said, and curled his tail around Harry's ear like a seashell.

Harry swatted it off, and continued. "It was weird. He wanted to know—things about the Dursleys." It couldn't hurt to tell Ron and Hermione that much. By now, he trusted them enough to know they wouldn't betray him to an adult. "And he gave me tea, and he acted nice. But then he said things that made me think this is just some contest he's having with Dumbledore." Harry scowled, feeling the ache begin deep down in his chest. It would have been nice to have Snape put him first, the way Sirius did, but be interested in things other than pranks and Quidditch and telling stories about Harry's dad. But he was stupid to expect it.