A Brother To Basilisks (a Drarry fanfic)

Chapter 35: Movement In One Direction

Harry relaxed, keeping his gaze fixed on the chair. He could feel the strong desire to drive the chair through the wall into the next room, and at the same time, he floated in the middle of the soft concentration that Snape had taught him.

He twitched, once, as he felt Dash wind around his ankle. But Dash was part of him. He couldn't disrupt the spell, the magic that was building in Harry's chest.

It was wonderful. It was like the moment when Hagrid had told him magic was real and his parents could do it. Harry just gestured, and the power flew out of him and collided with the chair.

And the chair vanished.

Harry glanced at the chairs that Snape had conjured nearer the front of the room. For long seconds, he didn't think it was going to work. They were vibrating, but they weren't vanishing, and Harry wanted them to. He narrowed his eyes and glared.

The chairs vanished. Harry sagged to the floor with his arms spread. He could feel Dash winding around them, too, as if he was checking for bruises. Dash snapped his tongue at him when he had that thought, though.

How stupid. I am making sure that you don't try to exercise those muscles too soon. They've been through a lot, and they deserve a rest. Dash sounded like he was bonded to Harry's muscles and not Harry.

You want to keep them safe? Harry tilted his head back and sighed. Dash curled up around more of his body, this time keeping him pinned to the floor the way he'd kept Harry pinned to his chair in Potions that one day.

Yes. I want to keep all of you safe. But right now, they're the ones that hurt the most and deserve to have someone stand up for them. Poor muscles.

Harry snorted. He pulled himself upright then, and turned towards Snape. He'd avoided looking at him until now. "What do you think, sir?"

*

I think you have achieved remarkable results with a month of instruction only, and I am worried about what it would mean if you had to collapse in the middle of a battle, immediately after using wandless magic.

But Severus would not voice the second thought. It was years yet—let it be—before Harry would have to engage in open battle. He inclined his head and murmured, "You did it well, with little waste of energy this time. I could barely feel the magic spilling around you. However, I did not understand the pause between vanishing the first chair and Apparating the other two."

Harry's face was practically glowing, and it seemed to take him a long time to acknowledge the existence of Severus's question. Severus wondered how long it was since he had heard praise from anyone but Severus—sincere praise, at least. The papers lavished it on him as long as he did what they wanted, and Dumbledore would distribute it to keep the boy moving along the right path.

And Black?

Severus shook his head. Black was one of the subjects he and Harry did not discuss unless Harry brought it up. Severus could feel it burning in him, often, the desire to speak, but he had an imagination as vivid as his desire for vengeance, lately. That imagination let him picture Harry turning his back on Severus if he pursued the subject.

"Oh." Harry frowned and scratched at one ear, sitting up. The basilisk twined around him and laid his head in Harry's lap. "I think I was concentrating too much on the first chair. I only thought of vanishing that one. And then I realized the other two were still there and hadn't gone with the first one." He gave Severus an anxious glance. "Is that bad?"

"Only in the sense that you may not have the chance to react with a delay in battle," said Severus. He flicked his wand, and more chairs appeared against the wall, all in a row this time. Perhaps having them all in his line of sight at once would improve Harry's concentration. "Now you know what you have to practice on next."