A Brother To Basilisks (a Drarry fanfic)

Chapter 11: Sparks That Will Settle

"

Just a moment of your time, Mr. Potter. That's all it's going to take."

Harry could still hear the wheedling tone in Minister Fudge's voice when he'd said that. Harry had agreed, like the idiot he was, and that Dash was always telling him he was, and they'd gone out in front of the school so that the photographers could take their pictures and the reporters could interview the Minister about what an astonishing turn-around this was, finding Sirius Black innocent. They didn't seem interested in talking to Sirius or Harry at all.

No one was interested in talking to Dash, either, but they all wanted to snap photographs of him, and Dash, curled around Harry's arms and neck and waist and legs as if he wanted as much of his body as he could get to be in contact with as much of Harry as he could get, had a lot of comments on them.

Who is that woman with the green glasses? Does she know that she looks like a beetle in them?

Harry glanced a little sideways at the woman Dash was talking about, hoping he could do it without giving himself away. She did look ridiculous, but no, he doubted she knew it. She was holding up a parchment with a quill scribbling quickly on it. I don't know her.

You know that you have to find out, right? Dash's tongue was on the back of his neck, perfectly placed to make Harry start and ruin a picture that the nearest photographer was just snapping, of Fudge beaming over Harry's shoulder.

Fudge looked down chidingly. "I know you're not used to this much attention, my boy, but you'll have to get used to it! You're the Boy-Who-Lived!" And he turned back to the camera with a smile. Harry thought he would have already put one hand on Harry's shoulder, but the presence of Dash vetoed that.

The more often you do that, the longer I have to stand here, he thought to Dash, and pasted another false smile on his face.

I know. But it's a brilliant chance to start your political education. Dash pointed towards another reporter with his tail, without making it look like he was pointing. Who's that?

Harry did look, squinting, but all he could really see was that the wizard was short and white-haired and wore absolutely brilliant yellow robes that made some of Dumbledore's look sane. I don't know. Why don't we find out?

He waited until the next photograph had been snapped and the Minister was opening his mouth to speak again, and then tugged gently on his sleeve. "Excuse me, sir, but who's that?" he asked, nodding at the yellow-robed wizard. He had good manners when he wanted, he thought. Aunt Petunia would have been proud of him. He even smiled meekly when Fudge peered down at him as if surprised that Harry could talk on his own.

At least Fudge indulged him, looking over towards the yellow-robed wizard. He then laughed aloud, nearly making Harry jump again. It sounded like genuine laughter, which he hadn't known Fudge was capable of.

"Oh, him," Fudge said, shaking his head. "You don't need to worry about him, Harry." Again his hand twitched as if he was going to pat Harry on the shoulder or ruffle his hair, and again had thought better of it. "His name's Xenophilius Lovegood, and he publishes a rubbish paper called the Quibbler that no one pays attention to. He might ask you questions about your basilisk, since he's interested in all manner of magical creatures. But he's harmless!"

Harry nodded slowly, and wondered if perhaps he might want to speak to Lovegood more than some of the other reporters. None of them had asked him, anything, and certainly not about Dash, whom they preferred to pretend didn't exist outside pictures.

There were more questions the Minister answered, mostly about things that seemed deeply boring to Harry, and then he got a chance to break away. The Minister waved his hand grandly, and Harry broke into a run towards Lovegood before he could change his mind, or the Minister could and pull him back for another session of false smiles. It wasn't as bad as posing with Lockhart, but that didn't represent a huge improvement, for Harry.