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Chapter Text

“Hello.”

Theo stopped and lifted his head. He had known there was someone ahead of him, walking with heavy steps, but he hadn’t paid much attention to how their footsteps differed from others’. When he was an adder like this, every human was bigger than he was, after all, and he was still learning how to sort through scents to find the familiar ones.

But Parseltongue? There would be only one human in the school who spoke that.

Theo coiled the upper half of his body off the floor, staring at Potter. Potter had a strange silvery cloak on that muffled his scent, but right now his hood was shoved back, which let Theo identify him. He crouched in front of Theo and studied him with none of the fear Theo would have expected.

Then again, maybe he simply didn’t have the sense to know an adder when he saw one.

Theo slithered a little closer. He hadn’t tried speaking Parseltongue in his Animagus form yet. He’d only mastered it this past summer, and he hadn’t met any other snakes. “Hello, Speaker.”

The form of address to Potter was natural, although more deferential than Theo would like. But Potter only looked delighted.

He extended his arm from under his cloak. “Would you like to come with me? I can keep you warm and safe in my den. Give you plenty to eat.”

It only took Theo a few minutes to decide. He had no plans. He had no friends. He had taken to wandering around in his snake form more and more often, and professors simply marked him absent. The only one who had noticed was Professor Snape, and he had given Theo one quiet warning about not messing with magic he didn’t understand and then ignored the absences.

Everyone else assumes a Death Eater’s son is already tainted.

Theo, in truth, was his own person and his own side. It couldn’t hurt to see what Potter was like in private moments, and whether he had anything to offer that might make Dumbledore’s side more attractive.

Theo writhed towards Potter. Potter showed his right arm, fearless. There was an odd scar on it that smelled of powerful magic. Theo let his tongue trace the air next to it as he climbed Potter’s arm and ducked beneath his cloak.

The scents were much stronger there, and Theo tasted and sampled the air as Potter rustled back towards Gryffindor Tower. It seemed that the cloak was special, since Potter’s footsteps also made his body shake when Theo was inside the cloak with him in a way they hadn’t made the floor shake.

Theo stretched his head along the back of Potter’s hand, and observed.

*

“Why do you have a snake, mate?”

“Well, people can’t hate me worse than they already do, can they?”

Potter’s voice was thin and his smile was thin, but the arm he used to cradle Theo against his body wasn’t. Theo watched Granger and Weasley exchange glances. This close and at this angle, their major important features were Weasley’s sharp chin and the halo of hair around Granger’s face.

“No, I suppose they can’t,” Weasley said slowly. “But I still think that you shouldn’t show that thing around, mate.”

Theo enjoyed not being in his human form and not having to bristle. He had bristled so much of his life, from insults to him and Father and Slytherin House and his magic. But now he could simply be there and listen.

“I’ll conceal him.”

“How do you know it’s a him?” Granger asked.

“I just do,” Potter said. He made a motion as if he were going to shrug, but then seemed to remember that he had Theo depending on him. He put Theo carefully on his shoulder and waved his wand.

An impressive Disillusionment Charm settled around Potter’s shoulder. Theo flicked his tongue out and checked the taste of the magic. Yes, it was less powerful than the cloak, but it would do. Theo could accept this Disillusionment Charm.

“Come on, mate, let’s get to breakfast.”

Theo studied the way that Granger and Weasley walked on either side of Potter, grimly marching along like soldiers. Theo had not known that Potter could inspire others to be soldiers.

He would study this and investigate.

*

Potter was leading a secret Defense group.

Theo lay coiled on the little platform that Potter had made the room conjure for him, by some magic that Theo didn’t understand. He had got a few nervous glances from the members of Potter’s group since Potter had introduced him to them, but then they’d started practicing magic, and they had better things to concentrate on.

Several of them could do Patronus Charms.

Theo watched a silvery hare hop around, and a terrier materialize from Weasley’s wand. Granger was still practicing with a misty otter.

Potter, meanwhile, moved around from person to person, urging and cajoling and demonstrating and joking. Whenever someone faltered, he cast his own Patronus, a stamping silvery stag that would have made Theo coil defensively if he were on the floor.

Potter acted as though he wasn’t beaten down by Umbridge or people’s hatred of him here. Theo wished he knew how that was possible.

Theo had fled into his Animagus form, leaving his human life behind for days at a time, because of less targeted and concentrated hatred than Potter was experiencing. And yet Potter could smile and laugh and joke, and even some of the people who had doubted him, like Seamus Finnigan, were here and taking instructions from him.

Why?

Theo tucked his head into his coils, now and then sampling the air for scents, and pondered this.

*

“You have gone Dark!”

It seemed that Finnigan’s release from madness was only temporary, given that he was confronting Potter in the middle of the corridor between classes now. And over Theo, whom he had seen at the Defense group.

“What are you talking about?” Potter’s voice was tight, and his arm had come up to shield Theo, who was looped around his neck. Potter seemed to have subconsciously discerned the source of Finnigan’s ire even though he was asking about it.

He hadn’t cast the Disillusionment Charm that morning, Potter had explained to his friends, because he’d thought people could accept him with the snake after seeing Theo at the Defense Association practice. He probably should have known better.

“That snake! Why do you have a snake if you aren’t practicing Dark Arts?”

“What?”

“They can be done with a snake! Some of the important rituals need a snake! Or didn’t you know that?”

“No, actually, I didn’t. You seem pretty familiar with them, though, Seamus.”

Finnigan’s face grew bright and hot. He drew his wand and aimed it at Potter. Potter fell into an awkward dueling stance—awkward because he was still trying to shield Theo with an upraised arm.

Theo decided that was enough of that. He could be hurt in a duel where Potter was wearing him, and he didn’t particularly want to be the cause of Potter being hurt, either. He corkscrewed his body and lunged from Potter’s neck, leaving only enough of his tail hanging on that he wouldn’t fall.

His jaws snapped an inch from Finnigan’s face. The great idiot leaped backwards with a shriek, tripped, and landed on his arse.

A lot of the people who had been eagerly watching the confrontation, including Draco, laughed. Potter reached out his arm and let Theo wind around it, gently bringing him back to his neck.

“Thanks,” he said in Parseltongue, and some of the laughing people froze. But Potter seemed to have decided that he could safely ignore them. “You didn’t have to do that. Why did you do that?”

Strange that Potter didn’t think the snake he had spent time carrying around and catching mice for wouldn’t care enough to defend him. Theo turned so that his eyes were more or less level with Potter’s. “We might have been hurt.”

Potter’s smile grew fierce and wide. He turned to the people nearest him, who all backed hastily away, except for Weasley and Granger. “This is my familiar,” he said loudly. “If you try to hurt him, you’re trying to hurt me. All right?”

Theo paused. There was no hint of a familiar bond between them, and Potter had to know it. Why was he saying it?

To keep you safe, idiot.

“Since when do you have a snake familiar, Potter?” That was Draco, as loud and irritating as always.

“Since now.”

Potter turned slowly around, and the few people who stood near him backed hastily out of the way. Theo decided he could be dramatic as well as useful, and snapped his jaws to make the point.

“Right,” Potter said, apparently satisfied with his reception. “Leave him alone.” He walked down the corridor, looking down at Theo with a continued smile that no one had ever directed at him before.

Theo lay on Potter’s pillow that night, and thought very hard.

Chapter Text

“You may not bring that snake into my classroom, Mr. Potter. I am in no mood to placate an animal.”

“Funny, sir. I’d have assumed you placated one all the time.”

A couple of the people around Potter gasped, including Granger. Potter didn’t move, or act as if he cared. He just stood with his eyes locked on Professor Snape, while Theo tightened his grasp around Potter’s neck.

“What did you say, Mr. Potter?”

“Sorry, does the Cruciatus damage your hearing? It didn’t mine, but I was only hit with it that one day.”

Theo tightened and relaxed his coils, tightened and relaxed. He wasn’t sure if he should tell Potter not to antagonize Snape, or to try and get him to calm down and leave the classroom. He wasn’t sure that he knew what would be the best course.

On the one hand, Snape getting upset at Potter would just mean more consequences for Potter, not Snape. On the other hand, Potter was once again doing this in defense of Theo, and part of Theo wanted to bask in that defense as if it were sunlight.

Snape stared at Potter in silence for a long time. Potter simply stared back, eyes blazing.

“Do not blame me if the snake is affected by the potion fumes,” Snape breathed at last.

“I won’t blame you for that, sir.”

“Twenty points from Gryffindor,” said Snape in a low voice, and swept away.

“Harry, you really shouldn’t do that!”

“What’s he going to do, Hermione, give me detention? They could never be as bad as Umbridge’s.”

Theo coiled closer around Potter’s neck, and watched as he began shelling clams for the potion they were doing that day. When Potter didn’t crush one of the shells all the way, Theo tightened around his neck again.

“Are you going to let me breathe?”

“Are you—oh, you’re talking to the snake,” said Weasley, with a shake of his head, leaning as far away from Theo as he could get. “You know, it’s kind of weird that you haven’t named him, mate.”

“Why? He’s himself. He doesn’t need a name.”

Theo coiled closer still, and warned Potter off a few other mistakes as he brewed. He was thinking very hard, and he frankly didn’t care if Weasley complained or that Granger was hissing under her breath to Potter not to antagonize Snape when the professor passed by.

He hadn’t gone along to the one detention Potter had had with Umbridge since Potter had picked him up. He was thinking that had been a mistake. He was thinking he would go tonight, and follow Potter if he left Theo behind.

It was time to see what kind of detention Potter considered bad.

*

Tearing his hand open with a Blood Quill, apparently.

Theo didn’t make a conscious decision. He simply waited, coiled beneath the collar of Potter’s robe, until Umbridge came to lean over him and simper about what a good job he was doing. Then he lunged.

Umbridge shrieked as Theo sank his fangs into her. Then she shrieked again. Theo was pumping not just venom but magic into her, and his own fury at what she was doing to Potter, the only person who had ever defended him.

She staggered backwards. Potter turned and gaped at her, one hand rising to land on Theo’s back.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

Not a word about how Theo ought not to have done that, which made Theo more determined than ever to finish Umbridge off. He slid off Potter’s shoulder with a flick of his tail and some of his own magic, down and across. He slithered towards Umbridge so smoothly and quickly that Potter might not have been able to stop him anyway.

Potter didn’t try.

Theo bit Umbridge again, in the thigh, and pumped more magic and more venom into her. Umbridge was moving weakly, but her hand crept towards her wand. Theo shot towards her and bit down on her hand, too.

She collapsed with a cry.

It didn’t take long for the venom to take effect, and the whole time, Potter watched in silence. Then he picked up Theo and gave him a long, thoughtful look.

“You’re not just an adder,” he murmured.

Theo kept quiet and still.

“I suppose we should go report her death eventually,” Potter said, and gave the body a long look that made Theo think he might be in shock. “It’s not every day that you see a professor die in front of you, after all.”

*

There was an enormous fuss about Umbridge’s death, but no one could find the snake that Potter had claimed as his familiar. Theo had slipped away that night—when no one but Potter was aware of the death, since he’d gone back to Gryffindor Tower instead of reporting it—and changed back into his human form. Draco and Blaise gave him thoughtful looks kind of like Potter’s when they saw him the next morning, but said nothing.

What could they say? What could they have proven?

Potter was questioned, of course, but he just showed his hand and said that he wasn’t sad about Umbridge’s death but he hadn’t caused it. Testing of the wounds, as Theo heard from a letter he sent to his father, proved that it wasn’t an adder’s venom that had caused them. Umbridge had died too quickly and painfully, and her wounds weren’t identical to an adder’s fangs, either.

Everyone who had seen Potter’s familiar up close agreed that it was an adder. Theo added quiet little sparks to the fire when he could, by pointing out that someone else could have caused Umbridge’s death and tried to blame it on Potter.

That rumor caught hold and grew.

There were a lot more people than Potter who had been tormented, it turned out. Maybe no one would have listened to Potter if he had been the one to bring it up on his own, since the Ministry despised him, and maybe no one other victim would have been enough, but the wounds on the students’ hands and the quills in Umbridge’s possession made the fuss blaze and blaze.

The Ministry still claimed the right to appoint a Defense professor, but with the DMLE looking into what Umbridge had done, a retired Auror named Barbaras Fletcher ended up appointed to the post, and Theo slept more easily at night knowing that Potter’s hand wasn’t being torn up.

Not that he slept more easily at night in general. He hadn’t, since he had stopped sleeping on Potter’s pillow.

*

Late one night several weeks after Umbridge’s death, Theo slipped into Gryffindor Tower behind an older student who was a lot more concerned with getting caught violating curfew than keeping snakes out. Potter was sitting in a chair by the fire, frowning at his book.

“Hello.”

Potter glanced up at once, and caught his breath. He waited until the older student had gone upstairs and then whispered, “I know that you’re not really an adder. Will you show me who you are?”

It didn’t take long for Theo to decide to trust Potter. He flicked his tail and transformed, melting smoothly to his feet.

Potter stared at him with a slightly open mouth. Theo waited.

“Nott,” Potter said at last, his voice full of wonder. “I thought—well, I don’t know what I thought, but I didn’t think it was you.”

“Going to turn away from me now, Potter?” It was odd to speak to him in English.

Potter stood up with a snort. “Of course not.”

“I thought—well, perhaps that violence to solve the problem wasn’t to your taste.”

“No one else was doing anything to fucking solve it,” Potter muttered. “I meant what I said about not being sad about her death. And—I defended you. So. You defended me. I thought that might have something to do with it. Maybe not that simple, but—something.”

Theo nodded. They watched each other for a second in the flickering light of the fire.

“So. Friends?”

“Do all your friends sleep on your pillow and kill for you, Potter?”

Potter’s face flushed brightly. Then he said, “I—more than friends?”

Theo took a step towards him, reaching out one hand to curl his fingers around Potter’s throat in imitation of a snake’s coils. “Yes,” he said. “Rather.”

Potter tilted his head to the side to trap Theo’s fingertips between his cheek and his shoulder. His eyes were wide, brilliant, and he didn’t move at all when Theo leaned forwards to kiss him, except to shudder hard. After a moment, however, he lunged forwards and made his return kiss as sudden as an adder’s bite.

Theo thought that a good beginning for what they would become.

The End.