Harry Potter and the Serpent's Ballad
Authors Note: I like the way this one is working out so far and I hope you
enjoy it as well. All reviews and criticisms, good or bad, are greatly
appreciated.
Chapter 1: Introspection
Nostalgic feeling of the last seven years Harry Potter had spend at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry mulled over in his head as he listened to the dull echo of his footfalls reverberating against the stone hall walls for one last time. Outside, he could hear the cheers and song of the year's graduating class as they enjoyed the final day of their formal educations. In Harry's hand, he clutched his own diploma tightly, as if for fear that it would get away from him somehow.
He had left Ron and Hermoine waiting anxiously at the front gate of the school. They would be heading to the Weasley's for dinner and then straight away to Hermoine's in Harry's enchanted car. Harry would have to bear Hermoine's constant griping about the trouble they were bound to get in one day riding around in the thing, but it had come to be a familiar, if not indispensable, member of their group. Although, it was safe to say that the day was coming when they would find themselves at odds with the Ministry of Magic. Finally, they would head for Sirius', to spend the night before setting off on their holiday to magical Italy just before first light.
First, there was something Harry had to see to before leaving Hogwart's. It was something that had been a bothersome itch in his thoughts for months. He worked over all the scenarios in his mind he had envisioned for the coming encounter as he made his way down the familiar path through the bowels of the school. His nerves began to get the best of him as he strode closer and closer to his destination. He absently pulled the Marauder's Map out of a pocket of his robes and consulted a particular pair of footprints standing in the dungeons.
Harry turned a corner and came to a door. He stopped pensively and stared at the handle of the door. He considered scrapping the whole idea for possibly the hundredth time. He could leave, hop on the Hogwart's Express and just go, and never have to deal with the situation ever again. But if nothing else, his curiosity would not think of it, as it had often gotten the better of him in the last seven years.
"Were you planning on standing there like a fool forever?" carried an oily, sinister voice from within the room and into the hall.
"Professor Snape?" Harry said as he opened the door and strode decisively into the office of the former potions professor. Snape looked up from the old book he had been reading and glared at Harry indignantly. Instantly, Harry was again in year one of his schooling at Hogwart's, and he felt the anxiety of meeting the imposing visage of Professor Snape for the first time. He had always been able to do that; to make Harry feel small and insignificant. Except, nowadays that was usually mixed with a generous amount of contempt.
"I should think so," Snape answered dryly, sending a cloud of moldy dust into the air as he slammed his book shut, "What is it now? Did you think of another way to annoy me and decided you couldn't leave before you graced me with your presence one last time?"
"I was hoping I could have a moment," Harry stated simply, pulling a chair next to Snape's desk before he could protest.
"A moment?" Snape hissed, and "And what, pray tell, would you want a moment for, Potter."
Harry searched for the right words. "I wondered if we could discuss something?" Harry stated, and coursed right into the next sentence before Snape could say anything. He felt a surge of energy from the memories of the unresolved rivalry between Snape and himself. "I'm not sure what I want to get out of this myself, but the last few months it has seemed like something pretty important I need to do. Well, what my question is, well-"
His mind went blank for a moment and he seemed to slip into a sort of trance. Professor Snape's office bled like crayons baking out in the summer sun and then faded to black. Another room slowly materialized around him. It was potions class, before Snape was made Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this last term. He was in his old seat, sandwiched in between Ron and Hermoine in the back of the classroom. Snape was walking towards their table with venom pulsing in the veins of his eyes. He reached them and slammed his hand down on the desk, lifting their cauldrons into the air and then down with a clang. A yellow slime spilled out Hermoine's cauldron and in Ron's lap, where it started smoking.
"Miss Granger," Snape spat, "It would do you well to remember your place in our world, you incessantly whiny little know-it-all."
Harry remembered this day. It was as clear in his mind's eye as it had been the day it had happened. Hermoine had just finished putting Snape in his place, as was her habit when Snape stepped over the line with her. Harry would never tell her so, but the girl did have quite a temper on her. This one particular time was too much for Snape, and he snapped.
Hermoine stared at Snape with mixed horror and contempt. Hermoine was always ready with a comeback to anything, and had become just a little notorious for her temper. "Professor," she gasped, with her jaw shaking and tears welling in her eyes.
The next five minutes fell into a paradoxical abstraction of conflicting emotions so powerful Harry has no memory whatsoever as to what actually took place. He has heard several conflicting, as well as spectacular and bizarre, accounts of what had taken place. One of Harry's both favorite and least favorite one involved him having tried to jam a pencil in Snape's eye. Even Ron and Hermoine couldn't agree as to what happened, although their explanations had made a better sort of sense.
"This is bad," Ron had whimpered, running his hand through his red, red hair nervously.
"What happened?" Harry pleaded as they ran at full speed back to the Gryffindor common room., after potions had been prematurely dismissed. Harry had come to with the three of them standing outside the classroom. He had tried to see what had happened, but it was utter chaos around them.
"You really have no idea what happened?" Hermoine panted and grabbed at her side as they reached the stairs and waited for the staircase to wheel back around towards them.
"No," Harry cried, thinking back to the frustration that had accompanied him learning he was a Parselmouth, "Can someone please tell me what happened!"
When they pulled up onto a landing, Hermoine grabbed them both by the arm and dragged them hurriedly in the direction of an empty classroom. The room was empty in the truest sense of the word, save for a long trunk that sat balanced on a stool in the back. With nowhere to hide, they crowded into a corner of the classroom, away from the line of sight of the door, as well as safely away from the mysterious trunk. Harry whipped out the Marauder's Map and chanted the charm that made it work.
"We shouldn't be going back to the common room," Hermoine leaned in and whispered, They'll be looking for you there."
"What the hell is going on?" he screamed in Hermoine's face, then felt horrible after what he remembered happening in potions, what had set him off. "Sorry, Hermoine. But what did I do?"
"You kind of.. exploded, Harry," Hermoine stated, her brow furrowing in aggravated confusion, then began rambling, "But not really. You looked like you just lost it, and you went for Snape's throat. I think we was actually smiling, Harry, like he had been waiting for the day you did this. I think he might have killed you then, I don't know. But then something came out of you, a strange, warm, yellow light, and filled the whole room. It was blinding, and when it was all over both you and Snape were laid out on the ground."
"What?" Harry cried, and Ron poked him in the ribs to quiet him down. He felt himself getting lightheaded.
"We had a lot of trouble getting you to come around," Ron remarked with concern.
"What happened to Snape?" Harry asked dreamily.
"We don't know, but-" Hermoine cut in, digging in her robes. She pulled out the Marauder's Map and pointed to a cluster of names in Dumbledore's office, "The Ministry is here. They're looking for you, Harry."
"For what?" Harry gasped, finding it increasingly difficult to breath. He grabbed Ron's shoulder to steady himself.
"They're moving. Damn it, they're leaving Dumbledore's office. We have to think of something now," Hermoine jumped up, but shuffled nervously without knowing what to do.
Harry felt nauseous. The room had begun to spin, and he vaguely felt himself drop down hard onto one knee. The room shrank away as his eyelids distorted, then darkened completely, the room around him.
Harry snapped back to Snape's office. He was breathing heavily and there was spittle running down the sides of his mouth. Snape stared at him from behind his desk without interest.
"Drink," Snape said sharply, pushing a glass of water towards Harry. Harry picked up the glass and downed its contents even though he wasn't particularly thirsty.
That day was still one of the worst of Harry's life. There had never been any point in trying to hide from the Ministry. When they finally found them, they escorted Harry out of the school as the entire building gawked at him being paraded out. They took him to the Ministry, where they deposited him neatly into a holding cell, while whispers of what had happened were circulated and embellished around the wizarding world. In the end, being Harry Potter saved him from the more severe punishments he could have suffered, including possible time in Azkaban. He was still on probation till his next birthday though.
"Back with us, Potter?" Professor Snape asked, drumming his fingers on the desk.
"Yes, thanks."
"Wonderful," Snape muttered. He looked at Harry impatiently as he tried to catch his breath, "You were saying?"
Chapter 1: Introspection
Nostalgic feeling of the last seven years Harry Potter had spend at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry mulled over in his head as he listened to the dull echo of his footfalls reverberating against the stone hall walls for one last time. Outside, he could hear the cheers and song of the year's graduating class as they enjoyed the final day of their formal educations. In Harry's hand, he clutched his own diploma tightly, as if for fear that it would get away from him somehow.
He had left Ron and Hermoine waiting anxiously at the front gate of the school. They would be heading to the Weasley's for dinner and then straight away to Hermoine's in Harry's enchanted car. Harry would have to bear Hermoine's constant griping about the trouble they were bound to get in one day riding around in the thing, but it had come to be a familiar, if not indispensable, member of their group. Although, it was safe to say that the day was coming when they would find themselves at odds with the Ministry of Magic. Finally, they would head for Sirius', to spend the night before setting off on their holiday to magical Italy just before first light.
First, there was something Harry had to see to before leaving Hogwart's. It was something that had been a bothersome itch in his thoughts for months. He worked over all the scenarios in his mind he had envisioned for the coming encounter as he made his way down the familiar path through the bowels of the school. His nerves began to get the best of him as he strode closer and closer to his destination. He absently pulled the Marauder's Map out of a pocket of his robes and consulted a particular pair of footprints standing in the dungeons.
Harry turned a corner and came to a door. He stopped pensively and stared at the handle of the door. He considered scrapping the whole idea for possibly the hundredth time. He could leave, hop on the Hogwart's Express and just go, and never have to deal with the situation ever again. But if nothing else, his curiosity would not think of it, as it had often gotten the better of him in the last seven years.
"Were you planning on standing there like a fool forever?" carried an oily, sinister voice from within the room and into the hall.
"Professor Snape?" Harry said as he opened the door and strode decisively into the office of the former potions professor. Snape looked up from the old book he had been reading and glared at Harry indignantly. Instantly, Harry was again in year one of his schooling at Hogwart's, and he felt the anxiety of meeting the imposing visage of Professor Snape for the first time. He had always been able to do that; to make Harry feel small and insignificant. Except, nowadays that was usually mixed with a generous amount of contempt.
"I should think so," Snape answered dryly, sending a cloud of moldy dust into the air as he slammed his book shut, "What is it now? Did you think of another way to annoy me and decided you couldn't leave before you graced me with your presence one last time?"
"I was hoping I could have a moment," Harry stated simply, pulling a chair next to Snape's desk before he could protest.
"A moment?" Snape hissed, and "And what, pray tell, would you want a moment for, Potter."
Harry searched for the right words. "I wondered if we could discuss something?" Harry stated, and coursed right into the next sentence before Snape could say anything. He felt a surge of energy from the memories of the unresolved rivalry between Snape and himself. "I'm not sure what I want to get out of this myself, but the last few months it has seemed like something pretty important I need to do. Well, what my question is, well-"
His mind went blank for a moment and he seemed to slip into a sort of trance. Professor Snape's office bled like crayons baking out in the summer sun and then faded to black. Another room slowly materialized around him. It was potions class, before Snape was made Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this last term. He was in his old seat, sandwiched in between Ron and Hermoine in the back of the classroom. Snape was walking towards their table with venom pulsing in the veins of his eyes. He reached them and slammed his hand down on the desk, lifting their cauldrons into the air and then down with a clang. A yellow slime spilled out Hermoine's cauldron and in Ron's lap, where it started smoking.
"Miss Granger," Snape spat, "It would do you well to remember your place in our world, you incessantly whiny little know-it-all."
Harry remembered this day. It was as clear in his mind's eye as it had been the day it had happened. Hermoine had just finished putting Snape in his place, as was her habit when Snape stepped over the line with her. Harry would never tell her so, but the girl did have quite a temper on her. This one particular time was too much for Snape, and he snapped.
Hermoine stared at Snape with mixed horror and contempt. Hermoine was always ready with a comeback to anything, and had become just a little notorious for her temper. "Professor," she gasped, with her jaw shaking and tears welling in her eyes.
The next five minutes fell into a paradoxical abstraction of conflicting emotions so powerful Harry has no memory whatsoever as to what actually took place. He has heard several conflicting, as well as spectacular and bizarre, accounts of what had taken place. One of Harry's both favorite and least favorite one involved him having tried to jam a pencil in Snape's eye. Even Ron and Hermoine couldn't agree as to what happened, although their explanations had made a better sort of sense.
"This is bad," Ron had whimpered, running his hand through his red, red hair nervously.
"What happened?" Harry pleaded as they ran at full speed back to the Gryffindor common room., after potions had been prematurely dismissed. Harry had come to with the three of them standing outside the classroom. He had tried to see what had happened, but it was utter chaos around them.
"You really have no idea what happened?" Hermoine panted and grabbed at her side as they reached the stairs and waited for the staircase to wheel back around towards them.
"No," Harry cried, thinking back to the frustration that had accompanied him learning he was a Parselmouth, "Can someone please tell me what happened!"
When they pulled up onto a landing, Hermoine grabbed them both by the arm and dragged them hurriedly in the direction of an empty classroom. The room was empty in the truest sense of the word, save for a long trunk that sat balanced on a stool in the back. With nowhere to hide, they crowded into a corner of the classroom, away from the line of sight of the door, as well as safely away from the mysterious trunk. Harry whipped out the Marauder's Map and chanted the charm that made it work.
"We shouldn't be going back to the common room," Hermoine leaned in and whispered, They'll be looking for you there."
"What the hell is going on?" he screamed in Hermoine's face, then felt horrible after what he remembered happening in potions, what had set him off. "Sorry, Hermoine. But what did I do?"
"You kind of.. exploded, Harry," Hermoine stated, her brow furrowing in aggravated confusion, then began rambling, "But not really. You looked like you just lost it, and you went for Snape's throat. I think we was actually smiling, Harry, like he had been waiting for the day you did this. I think he might have killed you then, I don't know. But then something came out of you, a strange, warm, yellow light, and filled the whole room. It was blinding, and when it was all over both you and Snape were laid out on the ground."
"What?" Harry cried, and Ron poked him in the ribs to quiet him down. He felt himself getting lightheaded.
"We had a lot of trouble getting you to come around," Ron remarked with concern.
"What happened to Snape?" Harry asked dreamily.
"We don't know, but-" Hermoine cut in, digging in her robes. She pulled out the Marauder's Map and pointed to a cluster of names in Dumbledore's office, "The Ministry is here. They're looking for you, Harry."
"For what?" Harry gasped, finding it increasingly difficult to breath. He grabbed Ron's shoulder to steady himself.
"They're moving. Damn it, they're leaving Dumbledore's office. We have to think of something now," Hermoine jumped up, but shuffled nervously without knowing what to do.
Harry felt nauseous. The room had begun to spin, and he vaguely felt himself drop down hard onto one knee. The room shrank away as his eyelids distorted, then darkened completely, the room around him.
Harry snapped back to Snape's office. He was breathing heavily and there was spittle running down the sides of his mouth. Snape stared at him from behind his desk without interest.
"Drink," Snape said sharply, pushing a glass of water towards Harry. Harry picked up the glass and downed its contents even though he wasn't particularly thirsty.
That day was still one of the worst of Harry's life. There had never been any point in trying to hide from the Ministry. When they finally found them, they escorted Harry out of the school as the entire building gawked at him being paraded out. They took him to the Ministry, where they deposited him neatly into a holding cell, while whispers of what had happened were circulated and embellished around the wizarding world. In the end, being Harry Potter saved him from the more severe punishments he could have suffered, including possible time in Azkaban. He was still on probation till his next birthday though.
"Back with us, Potter?" Professor Snape asked, drumming his fingers on the desk.
"Yes, thanks."
"Wonderful," Snape muttered. He looked at Harry impatiently as he tried to catch his breath, "You were saying?"