Work Text:
Harry Potter stood frozen in front of his parents, James and Lily, staring at the letter in his hand. It was a letter from the Ministry of Magic, stating that he was to be cast out of the Wizarding World.
His heart sank as he read the words on the page. "Due to your uncontrollable and dangerous ability to disrupt other people's magic, we regret to inform you that you are no longer welcome in the Wizarding World. You are to live among the Muggles and never return to our world again."
Harry couldn't believe what he was reading. His own parents had cast him out of the only world he had ever known. He had always known that he was different, but he never imagined that his own family would abandon him like this.
James and Lily watched him silently, their expressions cold and distant. They had always been afraid of his magic, and now they had an excuse to get rid of him for good.
Without a word, Harry turned and walked out of the house, his suitcase trailing behind him. He didn't know where he was going or what he was going to do. All he knew was that he was alone, cast out of his family and the Wizarding World, and forced to live with his Muggle aunt and uncle.
Harry trudged up the driveway of Number Four, Privet Drive, his suitcase clattering on the pavement behind him. He paused for a moment outside the door, his hand hovering over the doorbell. What would he say to his aunt and uncle? How would they react to his sudden arrival?
Taking a deep breath, he pressed the button and waited. After a few moments, the door creaked open, and his aunt Petunia peered out at him, her thin lips pursed in disapproval.
"Well, what are you standing there for?" she snapped. "Get in here, boy."
Harry nodded silently and stepped inside, the smell of cooking wafting from the kitchen. His uncle Vernon was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper, but he looked up as Harry entered.
"Ah, the prodigal nephew returns," he sneered. "What brings you to our humble abode, boy?"
Harry swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. "I've been cast out of the Wizarding World. I have nowhere else to go."
Vernon snorted. "Well, that's just too bad, isn't it? I suppose we'll have to find a place for you. Dudley's spare room will do. But you'd better remember your place here, boy. No funny business, no magic, and no trouble."
Harry nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat. This was his life now, living in a house with people who despised him and being forced to hide his true identity.
As Petunia bustled around the kitchen, preparing dinner, Harry retreated to his new, small room at the back of the house. He sat down on the narrow bed and looked around at the sparse furnishings. It was a far cry from the cozy Gryffindor dormitory he had called home for the past few years.
After what felt like hours of sitting in stifling silence in the room, still filled with his cousin Dudley's crap, he had to get out. "I'm going for a walk!" he called as he left through the front door and made a beeline for the woody area nearby.
Harry stumbled upon a small clearing in the forest while walking through it, seeking some solace from the oppressive atmosphere in the house. He could feel the hot sun beating down on his skin, and the leaves rustled softly above him as he made his way through the trees.
As he walked, he noticed a small snake lying on the ground, writhing in agony. Harry was never one to leave an animal in pain, so he approached it cautiously. The snake was small and thin, with green scales that gleamed in the sunlight. Harry's heart broke as he saw the snake's injuries - it had clearly been attacked by something, and its scales were torn and bloody.
"Hey there," he said softly, kneeling down beside the snake. "It's going to be okay." The snake's black eyes looked up at him, and Harry could feel a strange connection with the animal. He reached out a hand and gently stroked the snake's scales.
The snake seemed to relax under his touch, and Harry found himself talking to it. He didn't know what to say, but it felt natural to speak softly to the injured animal. He didn't know how long he sat there with the snake, but he was so engrossed in caring for it that he lost track of time. When it got dark, he carried the snake back with him - not home, the Dursleys' wasn't home. He ignored the screeching of his harpy of an aunt and took the snake straight up to his room.
Harry carefully placed the snake in a cardboard box and set it on his bedside table, vowing to take care of it until it was well again.
The snake hissed in pain as Harry prodded the injury with his finger. It looked like a deep cut, possibly from a bird's talons. Harry knew he had to act fast if he wanted to save the snake's life.
He ran to the kitchen and grabbed a small bowl, filling it with warm water. Returning to the snake, he gently used a cloth to clean the wound before applying a salve he found in his aunt's medicine cabinet.
The snake's breathing became steadier as Harry worked, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as he watched the animal start to recover. He wondered if it was wrong to feel so much compassion for a creature that most people would just dismiss as a pest.
As the night wore on, Harry checked on the snake regularly, making sure he was comfortable and had enough water. When the snake seemed to be recovering well, Harry let himself slide into a deep sleep.
Harry rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stretched, feeling well-rested for the first time in a long while. But as he opened his eyes, he was startled to see that the snake he had taken in last night was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly, he heard a sound from the other side of his bed. Harry slowly turned around and was shocked to see a naked man curled up next to him, licking his face.
Harry let out a startled gasp, scrambling backwards to the far side of the bed. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was still dreaming, but the man was still there when he opened them again. And what a man he was. He had jet-black hair, a chiseled jawline, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to look right through Harry. Harry's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the naked man in front of him. He quickly pulled the covers up to his chest, feeling exposed and vulnerable.
The man didn't seem to be aggressive, but Harry was still wary. "Who are you?" he demanded, keeping his voice steady.
The man blinked, seemingly confused for a moment. "I'm Tom," he said softly, his voice rough and scratchy. "The snake you helped last night. I...I don't know how to thank you for your kindness."
Harry's eyes widened as he realized what had happened. The snake he had found and nursed back to health was now a man. A very attractive man at that.
He tried to keep his mind focused and his thoughts clear, but the feeling of the man's naked skin against his own was making it difficult.
Harry sat up in bed, his mind racing with questions. "How did you turn into a snake? And why were you injured? And why were you in my bedroom?" he demanded, his voice rising with each question.
Tom held up a hand, silencing Harry's barrage of questions. "Let me start at the beginning. I was cursed by Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, to be a snake for the rest of my life. It was a punishment for my actions as a young man. I was arrogant and foolish, and I paid the price."
Tom sat up slowly, revealing a lithe and muscular frame. Harry half thought Tom must have been right to be arrogant: certainly Harry would be, if he had the body of a Greek god the way Tom did.
"But how did you end up in my bedroom?" Harry asked, still confused.
Tom sighed. "I don't know. The last thing I remember was being attacked by some kind of magical creature. I must have been injured badly because I don't remember anything else until I woke up in your arms."
Harry's heart softened at Tom's words. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like to live as a snake for so long, let alone to be attacked while in that form.
"You're too naive," said Tom. "You're trusting me. You are a fool, Harry Potter."
"What do you mean?" asked Harry, confused.
"I did terrible things," Tom said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I hurt people, I killed people. I enjoyed it, Harry. I was cruel and selfish and I loved the power it gave me."
Harry listened, feeling a sense of unease settling in his stomach. He had heard stories of the dark wizard Voldemort, who had terrorized the wizarding world before his parents had defeated him. Was this the same person?
"Did you ever go by another name?" Harry asked, afraid to know the answer. It came anyway.
"I was known as Lord Voldemort."
"Voldemort," Harry repeated, not wanting to believe it but knowing it was true. Still, Harry furrowed his brow, struggling to reconcile the image of the ruthless and power-hungry Voldemort with the vulnerable and injured snake that he had taken in just the day before. Despite the fear and disgust he had felt towards Voldemort in the past, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the man before him. Of course, it helped that Harry's body liked Tom very much already.
Tom had chiseled cheekbones, full lips, and piercing eyes that seemed to change color in the light. Even with the knowledge that Tom was a former Dark Lord, Harry couldn't deny the physical attraction he felt towards him.
Tom shifted slightly, sensing Harry's gaze on him. "What?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Harry quickly averted his eyes, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to stare."
Tom chuckled softly. "It's fine, Harry. I'm not exactly used to waking up naked in a stranger's bed either."
Harry couldn't help but laugh at the situation. "Yeah, I guess we're both a bit out of our element here."
Tom nodded in agreement before shifting his focus back to the previous conversation. "So, Harry, now that you know who I am, what are you going to do?"
Harry hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts and questions. Finally, he spoke up. "I don't know," he admitted. "I mean, you were the most feared Dark Lord of all time, but now you're just...a person, I guess."
Tom raised an eyebrow at Harry's words. "Just a person?" he repeated, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. "I may no longer be Voldemort, but I am still powerful. I demand respect, Harry."
Harry didn't back down, however. "I understand that, Tom," he said. "But you were cursed to live as a snake for the rest of your life. That's not something I can just overlook."
"And you are staying with your aunt and uncle during the Hogwarts term for fun, I suppose, are you?"
asked Tom, cutting deep.
Harry took a deep breath and began to explain his story to Tom. "I was born with the ability to mess up other people's magic. It was called anti-magic, or something like that. Dumbledore had found out about it and suggested to my parents that I should be cast out of the wizarding world. They agreed with him, and that's why I ended up here with my aunt and uncle."
Tom looked at Harry sympathetically, "I'm sorry to hear that. It's not fair that you were cast out like that. But maybe it was for the best, if it brought you to me."
Harry blushed at Tom's words, feeling a warmth spread through his body. He hadn't expected to feel such a strong attraction to a man who was once the most feared Dark Lord in the wizarding world. But there was something about Tom that drew him in, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Somehow, Harry thought, he had found a kindred spirit.