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It had been a month since Sirius Black died.
Harry got everything in his will, having been his godson and cousin by blood. Sirius had no children and the only family he had was either dead or married off to another name. Not that Sirius was likely to give them anything anyways.
His father wanted Harry to lock up old Grimmauld Place and let all the dark artifacts it no doubt held rust, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to. As much as Sirius hated the place, it was his in the end and Harry couldn’t just throw that away.
Harry wandered the halls for weeks after the funeral, exploring the doxie infested rooms and meeting the estranged house elf that looked to be ready to keel over any moment. Kreacher was too old to do much more than give him the tour but Harry was never one to berate a house elf for things outside of their control.
There were plenty of cursed trinkets and robes and books laying around without care. Many, Kreacher informed him, were only dangerous if handled by those not of Black blood.
The family tree had Sirius’ name blasted off and the sight broke through the wall of apathy that had taken over. Harry stood there, seething, until the sound of breaking glass snapped him out of it.
Behind him lay the remains of what was once a blue vase, long-dead snapping roses spread out onto the floor.
“Kreacher,” Harry summoned, “I want him on this wall. Fix it.”
Kreacher snapped his fingers and the scorch mark disappeared, taking the chunk of wallpaper with it. Another snap had a small pile of carpenter supplies at his feet. Harry decided to leave and left him to it, but before shutting the door called out, “And I want my name added to it, along with anyone else that should have been added since Orion’s death.”
Kreacher grunted which Harry knew was the closest he would get to politeness. Harry left and headed to the kitchen, intent on finding something to eat. The kitchen was the first thing he cleaned when arriving, and he’s glad he did. Kreacher’s room alone was a disgrace.
Harry didn’t taste his lunch, but he promised his mother not to waste away and that’s the only reason he forced down all of it before wandering out again.
The Black Library wasn’t very far from the Family Tree. He could still hear Kreacher working when he opened the door and found himself choking on dust and the haze of dark magic permeating the air.
When he opened his eyes again, a giant green snake stood a few feet away, towering over him. Harry’s blood ran cold.
The snake hissed aggressively, bobbing its head as it scented the air around them. “Foolish child. Disturbing my rest. Hungry.” The snake spoke like many of the snakes Harry had the misfortune to meet before. Disjointed and primitive.
Harry stumbled back against the door as it slithered closer. Heart racing, he raised his wand, a weak “Bombarda,” doing nothing. Harry tried again more forcefully, but it just bounced off. It was then that he realized what he was dealing with and shouted, “Ridiculous!”
The snake transformed into a younger Abraxas, dressed in his Slytherin robes, his pants by his ankles and hair a mess. Harry laughed when he tripped and fell. The boggart ran to some dark corner further into the room.
Harry didn’t move for another few minutes. Breathing slowly, he tried to calm down. When he was certain he wouldn’t stumble from how weak his legs felt, he pushed himself off the door and ventured further into the library.
He didn’t leave until Kreacher arrived for dinner, too absorbed by the many rituals and spells known only to the Black Family.
***
Kreacher approached him with an old scroll the next day.
“Master be wanting to be added to the tree.”
“What is this?” Harry asked, taking the scroll. He unrolls it on the kitchen table where he had been eating breakfast.
“Master must prove his heritage to be on the tree. Master be doing the ritual today.”
“Right,” Harry said, skimming through the ritual the scroll describes. It seems simple enough, if not entirely legal.
“This is blood magic,” Harry said. He looked up at Kreacher who had stood up straight, making himself look a good foot taller with a hard look in his eye.
“Yes.” Kreacher said.
They stared at each other, neither wanting to back down, until Harry eventually sighed in defeat.
“I suppose you’ll have a place for me to do this without getting caught?”
Kreacher huffed. “Master insults poor Kreacher. Master be in the House of Black.”
“Right. Fine. Let’s go then. Get this over with.”
“Master is so kind.” Kreacher muttered disdainfully.
***
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord grows
Born to those who defy him, born as the seventh month dies
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not
And either must find at the hands of the other, that which makes them whole
A prophecy, told by Sybill Trelawney and heard by Albus Dumbledore. It played over in Voldemort’s mind at least once a day, haunting him. It was a promise, he knew. The more romantic of his servants called it a soulmate. He doubted it was true. To have a soulmate would imply he would love another, and Voldemort had long accepted that he was incapable of such things.
Amortentia would be the first thing to burn when he finally took over this world.
“Mr. Riddle,” his secretary burst in, out of breath and clutching a file to her chest. “There’s been an incident at Grimmauld Place. Mr. Potter is in St. Mungos.”
Voldemort summoned the file to his hands immediately, not even bothering to use his wand. It was Mr. Potter’s file, as he thought. Skimming through it held nothing of importance, but Voldemort knew better than to underestimate this man. Youngest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in a century, Harry Potter was a year below him in Hogwarts. A Gryffindor that always felt like he was holding back. It infuriated him growing up, but now…
Now he could take the man in, protect him from the rabid aurors under his command, and finally sate his curiosity.
Voldemort rushed to the nearest floo and disappeared in a flash of green flames.
***
Harry woke up in St. Mungos alone. His hands were bound to his bed, his back itched something fierce, and his legs ached. The last thing he could remember was pricking his finger for the heritage ritual and spilling a few drops of blood onto a piece of parchment.
A nurse came in. She was nervous and could barely stutter out a full sentence to him when she realized he was awake. She took his vitals as quickly as she could and fled.
Harry wondered what on earth they thought of him if he could make her so terrified.
Harry waited there for hours with little to do but focus on not noticing how very itchy his back was. Which, of course, only made him notice it more. He couldn’t stop himself from squirming in his binds. He found no relief.
“Mr. Potter,” a man said from the doorway. He quickly closed the door behind him. “I had hoped to catch you alone, although I am concerned by how easy it was.”
“Who are you?”
“How rude of me.” The man said, stepping close enough for Harry to make out his face even in the dark of his room, “My name is Thomas Riddle. Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”
Harry sighed. “I suppose you want to arrest me then?”
“No. I don’t believe that will be necessary.”
Harry frowned, confused.
Thomas brought a chair to his side and sat. “You may not remember me, but I do remember you. From Hogwarts. I was only a year above you and you always seemed to have a way of standing out.”
That only confused Harry more. “I never stood out for anything. Unless you count my time as a seeker, but you barely ever attended any games, let alone any that weren’t for your house.”
Thomas smiled, “So you do remember me.”
“Well…yeah. Sort of. You were that kid who got all Os.”
Harry felt a sharp pain in his tailbone. He shouted and jerked on the bed. Crying out, he braced himself as something shifted and the pain only got worse. He heard shuffling and felt a cold hand on his forehead.
“Shh,” Thomas said, “Everything will be alright. You’ve triggered something dangerous and beautiful and I’m here to protect you.”
Harry forced his eyes open. Thomas was leaning over him, their noses near brushing against each other. He became hyper aware of how fast he was breathing through his mouth, but he couldn’t stop.
“What’s happening to me?”
“Trust me.”
For a moment, Harry thought he saw Thomas’ eyes flash red.
The pain shot up his spine. The itching started to burn. Harry whined.
“Please.”
Thomas whispered something and Harry drifted off to sleep.
***
Harry was beautiful.
Within the forced coma, Harry’s legs merged into a three-foot-long tail. Green scales dotted his face and chest and covered the entire spine.
Harry woke two days later and lashed out. His fangs dripping venom. His eyes slitted and frenzied.
“Immobulus.”
One drop of venom fell to the floor and the wood sizzled at its touch. Harry stood mid-strike, straining against the spell. Voldemort didn’t look away from Harry’s eyes even as he reached up to brush softly against his scaled cheekbones.
“You needn’t be afraid, Harry. Nobody will harm you here.”
Voldemort found Harry’s pulse. They stood there waiting for a few long moments until Voldemort deemed Harry calm enough to break the spell. Voldemort deftly stepped aside as Harry clumsily found his footing.
“Your failed attempt at a simple blood test has unlocked a creature inheritance.” Voldemort said before Harry could bombard him with inane questions. “Considering the rare and unfortunately controversial inheritance you’ve received; I took the liberty of taking you into custody before your true nature could be made public knowledge.”
Harry narrowed his eyes.
“As far as the public is concerned, I’ve taken you to a holding cell deep in the ministry with strict orders for anyone but me to keep their distance. The reality is that you are a guest in my home, and I have every intention of helping you find your place in this new and exciting world.”
“What am I?”
“A naga.”
“That’s impossible. I don’t care how far back you go. I haven’t got anything even relating to a naga in my ancestry.”
“In my experience, I’ve found there’s nothing that is impossible. I’m sure you’ll find something somewhere.”
Harry inspected his tail, touching it as if to check if it were real. “It’s hard to argue with this.”
Voldemort laughed. “Yes. It is.”
“How do I even…” Harry jerked his hips. He managed to move forward a few inches before losing his balance and falling to the floor.
“With practice.” With a wave of his wand, Voldemort opened the door. “These rooms are yours to do with as you please. Nobody but me can access them. You have free reign of the house. You’re free to leave if you really want to, but I highly advise you don’t. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you why being seen in Britain is dangerous for a naga. Especially one who can’t even run.”
Voldemort left Harry to mull on his words. He trusted that Harry would come to the right and only conclusion.
Nagini slithered up to meet his strides. “The little one will make a good mate.”
“You’ve been listening to my followers. Romantics. All of them.”
“Master needs a mate before all good mates are taken.”
“Not everything is about eggs for us humans.”
“You say you need power. For yourself. For wizards. You are strong mate. Find a strong mate, have strong babies.”
“I bow to your wisdom,” Voldemort laughed.
***
Harry rarely left his room.
He struggled to stand properly and all his attempts to walk were embarrassing enough that he fears the day Thomas walked in on him.
He wondered if he was this embarrassed as a child. He wondered if he’d ever master his new tail.
The frustrating part was that he knows he can. In that brief moment when he first woke up, he was agile and swift. He could move gracefully and become something deadly. But Harry was scared and acting solely on instinct then. He didn’t know how to do it again.
“Little one is cute,” a woman said.
Harry startled and turned to see a large cobra slithering into his room.
“Little one is like hatchling hatched too early. Clumsy and slow. You will be eaten at this rate.”
A chuckle sounded from the door. Thomas came in with a tray of food. A quick look to the window showed the night sky. Harry hadn’t realized it was so late already.
He hoped Thomas didn’t realize he could understand the snake. It’s one thing to harbor a mutated accident. Quite another to realize your guest is a parstlemouth.
Thomas set the food on the small table already set for two and sat down. Harry clumsily dragged himself over with a sheepish smile to mask the fear.
“Don’t mind Nagini. She will not hurt you.” Thomas said.
“Why do you have her? It can’t be good for your reputation at the DMLE.”
“I’m sure my reputation can handle it,” Thomas said.
“But what about becoming Minister? If this got out, you’d never see your promotion.”
Amusement sparked in his eyes. “Trust me. Nagini will not hinder my ambitions. You needn’t worry your pretty little head over it.”
Harry’s face grew flushed. Mortified, he looked down to his food and took a large bite to swallow the embarrassment.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Something that I thought would appeal to your new palate.”
Harry couldn’t even care about the nonanswer as he consumed the rest of his dinner with a vigor that surprised him. He must have been hungrier than he thought. When he finally looked up it was to Thomas staring with a fond look on his face.
Harry didn’t know what to do with such attention and so said nothing.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Thomas said. “I’ll be going then. I don’t want to keep you distracted for too long. The sooner you can walk, the better.”
“Yeah,” Harry said.
“Goodnight, Harry.”
“Goodnight, Thomas.”
Thomas smiled, but just before he closed the door behind him, he said, “Oh, and Harry? Call me Marvolo.”
It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Harry realized he left Nagini with him.
***
“It’s no wonder you can’t walk,” Nagini said the next day. “Look at you. Flailing your body around randomly like an imbecile.”
“Well, how else do I do it?” Harry huffed.
“You need to use the muscles in your tail. Grip the ground and gain traction and you angle your body the way you want to go. It’s not that hard.”
“Says the snake who was born knowing how to walk. Not everyone is so lucky to have the skill written in our brain from day one.”
“You whine like a hatchling too.”
Harry glared at Nagini but did as she said. It did help to focus on the smaller muscles in his tail. After another hour, he’d even managed to slither across the room with tripping over himself.
In his excitement, Harry looked to Nagini who was watching him with what he dared think was pride.
***
Marvolo’s dining room was beautiful. Harry was no stranger to wealth, but he couldn’t help but marvel for a moment as he was led to his seat at the long dining table.
Marvolo sat across from him as Harry got comfortable in the dining chair, curling his long tail around the legs. His plate filled with their dinner, a steak that smelled delicious centered beautifully. Harry’s mouth watered.
“Thank you for finally accepting my invitation, Harry.” Marvolo said. “I’ve been eager to prove myself to you.”
“Umm, yeah.” Harry said, not really understanding what he meant by that, but unwilling to risk the pleasant atmosphere to ask. “It’s the least I can do now that I can actually make it down the stairs. You’ve done so much for me.”
“It was no trouble. I’m always happy to help someone like you.”
“Like me?”
“Beautiful. Powerful. Different.”
Harry blushed. To distract himself, he started in on his meal. Only to then be lost in it because it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
Marvolo smirked. “I’d hoped you would enjoy it. It’s supposed to be a delicacy to our kind.”
Harry moaned in agreement, too enveloped in the steak to really listen to what Marvolo was saying.
“The most popular name for it is long pig, though it’s a bit misleading. I find it an amusing enough name for a fairly accurate meat. Regardless, it’s my favorite meal and I promised myself I would only share it with the most worthy of souls.”
“I love it, thank you. I don’t understand how you keep saying that, though. I’m nothing special.”
“You are everything special, darling. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever have a pale face again. Certainly not if Marvolo insisted on saying such things.
***
“Where is my wand?” Harry asked.
“In my study,” Marvolo answered. “I’ve kept it there for safekeeping warded quite thoroughly in my desk. Would you like me to take you to it?”
“Yes. I’d like that very much.”
Marvolo took Harry’s arm into his own and led him back into the manor from where they’d been taking an afternoon stroll. Nagini quickly joined them as they changed direction.
“I apologize if it seemed like I was keeping it from you. I meant no offense.”
“No. It’s ok. I’d just like it back is all.”
“Do you plan on leaving me?” Marvolo teased.
“No!” Harry hissed. Embarrassed, he continued, “I mean, no. I don’t want to leave. I like it here and I’m grateful for your hospitality.”
“Do you want to leave? Someday in the future, I mean. You are welcome here as long as you’d like, but I’m not your warden. You would always be welcome back as well.”
“To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought. This place is like a dream sometimes.”
“A good dream, I hope.”
Harry smiled. “The best.”
“This place belonged to my ancestors. I found it abandoned and in disrepair. I’ve put a lot of work into restoring it and I’m quite proud of what I’ve accomplished.”
“You should be.”
“I know,” Marvolo shared with a sly smile. “I didn’t have anything when I entered this world. Only a name and my own power. I am proud of everything I built for myself. I will be proud of what is yet to come.”
“I remember seeing you in school. I thought that you were going to change the world.”
“I will, but we’re getting off topic. What I was getting at is that I have built much for myself, but I’ve begun to realize that I had neglected something that I thought was a waste of time before.”
“What?”
Marvolo stopped them in front of the door to his study and turned to look Harry in the eye. “Companionship. Someone to share everything I built. Someone worthy enough to stand by my side.”
Marvolo’s gaze was intense. Harry fought the desire to look away. Slowly, Marvolo raised his hand and brushed Harry’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You could change the world too, Harry. I knew it back in school and I know it now. I’d like you to change it with me.”
The door opened, startling Harry out of the trance he was in. Marvolo leads him inside with a gesture of his hand.
“Your wand,” Marvolo said, holding out Harry’s wand to him, handle first. “May nobody ever take it from you again.”
***
“-My Lord.” a man said from the formal dining room as Harry passed by. Curious, he lingered at the door and listened.
“Malfoy?” Marvolo asked.
“The minister is hesitant, my lord, but I have no doubt that he will acquiesce within the week.” Abraxas Malfoy replied.
“See that he does.”
“What are you doing?” Nagini asked. Harry jumps at her sudden appearance.
“Nothing,” he said far too quickly. Nagini looked at him with amusement shining in her eyes.
“Master is with his death eaters,” she said. “Master does not like to be interrupted when he is with his death eaters.”
“Who are they?”
“His death eaters,” she said as if he were obtuse. Apparently done with Harry’s slowness, she pushed her way past him and into the dining room. Harry fled before any of Marvolo’s guests could notice him.
***
The fire crackled softly, highlighting the sharp edges of Marvolo’s beautiful face.
“My death eaters are the future,” Marvolo said, effectively reminding Harry why he was there in Marvolo’s study and not in bed like he normally was at this time of night. “One day they will be considered an elite organization that answers directly to me. And you, hopefully. Should you accept my proposal.” Marvolo’s gaze was intense, like it could stare into Harry’s very soul. Harry fought the urge to squirm at the attention. Now was not the time to let his libido do the thinking.
“I still don’t understand what exactly you mean by all this,” Harry said with a wave of his hand.
“Let me be frank then. Our ministry as it stands is inefficient and beyond repair. Corruption and inadequacy has rotted it from the inside out and only dramatic and decisive change will save us before the whole of wizarding kind finds itself in a war we’ve no hope of winning. The time for the ministry is over. The time for democracy is over. I will drag this world into prosperity by any means necessary. I am The Dark Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters are my most trusted followers.”
The fire crackled in the following silence. Harry stared at his friend in wonder and shock.
Marvolo took a breath and said, “I will not abide an authority that would see you dead or myself imprisoned for studying that which they fear. I will not stand and watch as the muggles become closer and closer to discovering us and only the naïve would think peace could come from it. Do not mistake me for a blood supremacist. Prejudice makes one weak and my new world will be strong. Accept my proposal or not, I will build a world where you may leave this manor with as many rights as you had before your transformation, if not more.”
Harry watched the fire as Marvolo left him to his thoughts. Harry appreciated it for he had much to think about.
***
Harry Potter was in love with the Dark Lord. It was not a truth he was ever prepared to face.
Dark wizards killed his godfather. Dark creatures ruined his uncle’s life. Dark magic is evil and destroys whatever it touches.
Parstletongue is dark magic. Nagas are dark creatures. Harry has been a dark wizard from his birth, and nothing will ever change nor hide it. Harry was so very sick of hiding.
Harry made his way down the hall and to the formal dining room with purpose. His scales shined proudly in the sunlight pouring through the ceiling-high windows lining the walls. Every seat was filled with black cloaks and aristocratic faces. The Dark Lord Voldemort sat at the head like a king holding court.
Harry stopped his side, curling his tail so that they were at level height.
“Have you chosen?” Voldemort asked.
“I have been afraid all my life.” Harry said. He did not expect to say it. He expected to say something else. Something simple and short. He continued. “I have been afraid of discovery. Of rejection. I have hidden from my potential because I knew what I was capable of. All my life,” Harry paused. Even after everything, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. He knew in his head that Voldemort would not turn him away, but his heart could not believe a thing it did not see for itself.
Harry took a deep breath and said, “All my life I have spoken parstletongue.”
When no reaction came, Harry stilled with surprise. All the death eaters in the room only looked at them with awe. Confused, Harry turned back to Voldemort, who had an odd look on his face.
“You have not answered my question.” He said, “Will you be mine?” He asked in English.
Voldemort’s pupils shifted into snake-like slits and widened out again into their human circle. Harry’s heart stopped.
“I will.”