The Serpent that Devours Us

Chapter 5

Harry grabbed Blaise’s wrist and yanked the man inside, quickly shutting the door. “Who told you this? Severus? Reggie? If this gets out, if the ministry finds out I have –“

“Relax, Harry dearest,” Blaise said with the kind of smug smile that drove Harry to contemplate murder. “I merely heard you were looking for a basilisk in India and, knowing you, I drew a few logical conclusions.” Leaning over, Blaise gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “And you, my sweet Gryffindor child, have just confirmed all I needed to know.”

Harry stared in disbelief. He probably should be surprised, but he’d been hanging around Slytherins in general and Blaise specifically long enough to know how cunning they could truly be. He sighed, shook his head and marched back to the couch. Throwing himself on it, he dropped his head back and stared up at the ceiling.

“You look like you have all of the world’s problems resting on your shoulders.” Blaise moved around Harry’s living room towards the liquor cabinet with the familiarity of someone who had spent a lot of time there looking for missing socks and boxers in the dark at three in the morning. He grabbed two tumblers from the cabinet and filled both with a generous serving of firewhiskey.

“For fuck’s sake, Blaise, it’s not even noon yet,” Harry complained, but he accepted the drink and took a fortifying swallow.

Blaise sank down on the sofa beside him and carefully arranged his acromantula silk robes while crossing one leg over the other. Blaise liked to present himself as a wizard of leisure but Harry knew he was an avid investor in both magical and muggle businesses, and that kept him plenty busy. It also kept him plenty rich.

Blaise indicated the suitcase, sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, with a twist of his foot. “I knew when I started associating with Gryffindors I would be living dangerously.” He raised his glass at Harry. “But contrary to you, I need my courage to be liquid when I’m in the same room as a basilisk.”

Harry sighed and took another sip. “He’s not a basilisk. He’s a wizard who got stuck as a basilisk after a botched ritual.”

Blaise raised a single eyebrow, but barely, as though he was only a tiny bit impressed.

“And I was going to help turn him back, but now I’ve found out he wasn’t a very nice guy before and I’m not sure if he deserves to be human again.”

“Hm.” Blaise glanced at Harry, swirling the whiskey around in his glass. “How long has he been stuck?”

“Sixty years.”

“A lot can change in sixty years, especially people,” Blaise said with a knowing smile. “This reminds me of someone else who changed quite a bit, though he needed far less time than sixty years.”

“Draco?” Harry guessed.

“No.” Blaise frowned. “Well, yes, but that is not who I meant. I was talking about you.” And to drive his point home, Blaise poked him in the chest with a finger.

“Me?” Harry asked, affronted.

“Harry, dear, you were a self-righteous little prick for most of your Hogwarts career. You are a parselmouth and yet you despised everything and everyone Slytherin, simply because of what an enchanted piece of cloth said about us when we were eleven. And you didn’t start changing until our sixth year.”