Chapter 6 is up! Oh boy, I feel so bad for writing this chapter. And no I won't tell you why right now, I guess you guys just have to read to find out.

Leave a review! It's always nice for a writer to read about what you think about their story.
Don't be afraid to leave any constructive criticism or what you expect to happen in the future chapters. It can help a writer to get motivated to write, or give them inspiration. So don't worry, I won't bite. XD

We've almost reached 100 reviews guys! WHOO! Come on! Let's make the 100 this time!

Oh wow, we went over 400 follows and are well on our way to 300 favs! We've gone over 15000 views and Filius Mortis has been added to another community archive, making it 4 in total! I'm still not sure if that's a lot… but I'm so excited!

Trainreader, trueimpa, Guest, marbe101, crankypants16, kitayalera, lightwalnut64, TangledPencils, kat4love, Miyu Kokomi, bloodyredfox, Charlie095, davycrockett100, Yana5 and Fae0306: Thank you guys for leaving a comment on the last chapter! You guys are all awesome!

Of Stories Told: I'm glad you liked it! I wasn't very sure how to paint Phineas' character at first, but he is a Slytherin. I eventually just went with what felt right.

The library will make its appearance eventually, and you're going to find out what it was in this chapter!

MirrorShard: Where did you go?! XD I got kind of worried when there were no more reviews after the third chapter. But, even though there is a chance you won't see this, I want to thank you that you took the time to leave those reviews! They give me insight of things I might've missed and can use it for future reference. It's always interesting for me to read about what the readers think and leave their own opinions on the story in a review.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and I never will. I only own this story, which is to say not much. I also don't own the cover image, I only edited it some.

Warnings: Slash in later chapters! Plotting, politics, raising the dead, violence, character death, animal deaths (oh god I felt so bad for doing this), A bit of Dumbledore bashing (Maybe a lot), A little bit of Weasley bashing (Not sure though…), Cussing and OC's

Beta: This chapter is Beta-ed by the lovely Anki, who took the time to proof read and find any mistakes I made. Thank you hun, for taking the time!

Previously:

"Thank you for taking the time to come and take a look at Mr. Potters case."

~§~

"You can count on me,"

~§~

"You always think you are so great,"

~§~

"But you can't be!"

~§~

"You know of me?"

~§~

"If you are ever in need of help, all you have to do is ask."

~§~FiliusMortis~§~

Chapter 6

"Every great story seems to begin with a snake." ~ Nicolas Cage

~§~FiliusMortis~§~

From the moment a four-year-old Harry heard a small, green garden snake hissing about food and a nest, Harry knew that it wasn't normal. Animals weren't supposed to be able to speak, the neighbour's cats can't talk after all and his aunt had said so to Dudley after he had asked her. Dudley had wanted a talking cat like James the Cat he had seen on the small television they had. Petunia had said it was impossible, as animals can't speak and distracted Dudley from throwing a tantrum by giving him some sweets.

So Harry, with all his childish logic, concluded that this snake was special and got intrigued by it.

Since that moment, he watched the small garden snake as it slithered between the bushes of number four and number six Privet Drive while Harry was working around in the garden. He simply watched and listened, as the snake complained about it's food, the British weather or humans in general. Harry found it amusing what the snake said most of the time and couldn't contain the giggles as they bubbled up in his throat. His aunt had given him a few odd looks when she was nearby, and Harry had had to cover his mouth with both hands to muffle the sounds he was making. He didn't want his aunt to find out about what the snake was saying about them after all.

It was almost a week later when the snake finally started talking about him.

"Sstupid two-legger, alwayss watching me. Chasing away all the good food, never bringing any." It watched Harry for a moment, probably contemplating a thought. "Two-legger wouldn't make a very good ssnack. Too little meat, just like those ssmall birds. Too many ssmall boness." Harry had blinked at it for a moment, before replying to it that it wasn't his fault that there wasn't any good food around for the snake. The reptile had startled so bad that, if it had had legs, it would have stumbled. But, as it didn't have any legs to fall over them, it simply reared up sharply, staring back at Harry with unblinking yellow eyes. They had a stare-down for a few minutes, before Harry's eyes started to water and he had to blink, breaking the staring contest that they had been in (or Harry thought so at least.)

"A Ssspeaker,"

Harry blinked at it, tilting his head in confusion. "What?"

The snake continued to stare at Harry, apparently intrigued. It seemed to contemplate something, and just as Harry thought it would say something very smart, "Do you have any mice?" Harry shot into a string of giggles. "Yess, a big fat juicy mouse. One who'ss sstill alive. I like it when they sstruggle, it'ss more fun to kill them that way." The snake continued, ignoring the toddler who, by now, had fallen to the ground trying to contain his laughter again. His aunt was inside, and would come to investigate what was going on if she were to hear him. If she saw that Harry wasn't doing his chores, it would mean going back to his cupboard without any dinner that night for him. Harry didn't want that. He didn't like being hungry. It was painful and it gave him stomach-aches.

After a short while Harry was finally able to contain his laughter, a few stray giggles still slipping between his lips as he sat up again. The small green snake was still hissing about food, its body wriggling around in eagerness. Harry had the strange thought that it was almost drooling. "Sorry, but sadly I don't have any mice in my pockets." The snake seemed to deflate a little, its body stilling and its head almost drooping. Harry, scared that he had upset his small friend, (he had decided that the snake had become his friend, his first ever friend!) quickly tried to rectify the situation. He didn't want to lose his friend so quickly! "I might be able to get you a cat though!"

Its mood seemed to brighten almost immediately, hissing meaninglessly in pleasure.

Harry smiled brightly, the snake's cheerfulness contaminating him. He held out his hand, the small snake slithering inside his too big second-hand T-shirt and circled itself around his arm. A small triangular head peeked out of Harry's collar and settled itself down. Harry giggled slightly as the snakes forked tongue grazed his neck, tickling him in the process.

Harry set off, leaving behind the few garden tools he was allowed to use. He knew exactly where to find a cat around Privet Drive. Mrs. Figgs probably wouldn't notice if there were one or two cats missing anyways.

~§~FiliusMortis~§~

Ever since then, the snake came back almost every day the entire summer long. Staying with Harry when he was working around in the garden to keep him company, and if the weather was too bad to be outside Harry would sneak Emerald inside the house and bring him to his cupboard, where they would talk until Harry fell asleep, too exhausted to continue.

Emerald, as he had named it, became Harry's best (and only) friend. It hadn't known much, just that Harry was a 'speaker'. Harry had asked how it knew, and what a 'speaker' actually was, but the snake just said that it did and that it didn't know how Harry was able to speak snake. They spoke mostly about irrelevant things. Harry liked to think up stories about flying brooms and men that could change into dogs and brightly dressed robes. Of beams of light and odd sticks. He would tell them as they lay in the dark cupboard, small spiders crawling up the walls and over them, Emerald curled up on his chest.

And Harry would hiss softly the, what he had dubbed, bedtime stories (of course he didn't know that it was not simply his imagination and actually memories of a time most won't ever remember.) Those times Harry spend with Emerald, holed up in his cupboard or laying in the grass hidden behind the shed, were the most precious and happiest moments of his, admittedly, short life.

Sadly, their friendship didn't last very long, because but a month later his aunt was walking by the open kitchen window where Harry was tending to a few Geraniums in the garden whilst speaking with his small friend. Petunia had screamed, causing Vernon to stumble into the kitchen with heavy footsteps and a red-tinged face.

Harry had dropped the small rake from his hand, startled by his aunt, with the small snake still sitting next to him between the flowerbeds.

"What's wrong?" Vernon had demanded, looking around wildly with his hands raised in meaty fists. Petunia had stuttered something about 'hissing' and 'snake' before pointing outside the kitchen window, towards Harry's direction.

Harry sat frozen on the ground, the small hark lies forgotten on the ground. Not a second later realisation crashed into him like a tidal wave, making his breath catch in his throat as he turned wide, emerald eyes onto his snake-companion. He had wanted to scream at it, shout for it to Hide! But it was already too late. Before he had the time to utter a single word Vernon came stamping out the backdoor, a large steel ladle clutched between meaty hands which were easily the same size as Harry's head.

He had sat, numbly staring at the scene unfold. Harry had known he had to do something. Anything. To save his friend from a gruesome death. But he couldn't move. It was like he was rooted to the ground. Held down by some invisible force. Maybe it was his brain telling him it was too late already, that he could do nothing anyway. Maybe it was the look in his uncle's eyes. Or maybe it was because he was simply scared.

He couldn't move.

The steel gleamed in the sunlight as it was raised high in the air, shining tauntingly in Harry's face. Emerald, having sensed the danger it had been in, was slithering as fast as it could away from the bushes it was in and towards the tall hedges dividing the property from one house to the next. With a heavy swing, the ladle came down on Emerald's small, pencil-thin body. Harry could hear the loud crack of bones snapping and Emerald's hisses of pain filling the air, as it snapped at Vernon's sock-clad feet.

He couldn't move!

Vernon had stumbled back, before going purple in the face and stomping back towards the garden-snake. Vernon had brought the ladle down again, but this time on the snake's triangular head. Its body wriggled around for a few seconds more before laying completely still.

Vernon had stepped back with a self-satisfied look on his face before turning towards Harry who still sat petrified on the grass, staring at his once-alive friend. "Go clean that up boy!" was hollered at him before the loud stamping of Vernon faded away into the house. It had taken Harry a good ten minutes before he could move again, and once he did it felt as if his limps were being weighed down by a ton of bricks. He could've been holding his breath for just as long as well with how he started to gasp in shaky breaths.

He had slowly and shakily crawled towards his friend through the grass, not minding the blood he was getting on his hands and clothes. He didn't care, even if his aunt was going to give him an earful later on. He was simply too weak right now to stand up.

Harry finally reached where his small friend lay, limp and bloodied on the ground. A choked sob tore past his lips as he cradled the limp form close to his chest, body shaking in suppressed sobs so he wouldn't alert his family who could still hear him from inside.

"E-Emerald. Please wake up." Harry croaked, shaking his head from side to side. Emerald couldn't be gone. He was his first friend! "wake up, wake up. Get up!" And as if a magic spell had been lifted, Emerald started to stir again. Bright green eyes widened in surprise and amazement, as Harry looked down at the snake. He hadn't expected to see what he did.

It was still branded vividly in his memories. In these moments he had wanted to curse his eidetic memory (or what he assumed is an eidetic memory, as he was never tested on such things.) He had nightmares for weeks about his one and only friend, losing more sleep than was healthy for a growing boy. Blood had been everywhere, brain matter hanging outside a hole by Emerald's left eye. Its other eye had been intact, yellow and bloodshot, staring straight at Harry.

Harry, scared by seeing his small friend in such a way, had dropped the snake on the ground. With a wet squelch it landed on the grass. Emerald stayed upright, swaying from side to side with his lower jaw hanging open (as it was probably broken in more places than one.) Blood was slowly dripping down to the ground, the only sound left was that of the wind blowing through the leaves and the pitter- patter of thick drops of blood hitting the ground. Harry didn't dare breathe, afraid something bad would happen if he did.

"E-Emerald?" There was no response. "Emerald?" Harry tried again, but the snake was simply staring at him, as if awaiting an order or command to fulfil. "C'mon Emerald, this isn't funny anymore."

He took in a breath, which sounded more like a wheeze than anything else. Harry could feel his hands still shaking, and he had the feeling they wouldn't stop anytime soon.

"Emerald! Stop it! Please!"

The snake never responded, its strings had been cut. An empty husk left behind in the world. Big tears fell down pale cheeks as Harry cried silently for his lost friend. No birds were singing, utter silence fell down on Little Whinging as dark, ominous clouds gathered overhead.

"Stop it!"

As Harry uttered those words, the mangled body of Emerald limply fell down to the ground. It didn't get up again. A heavy sob racked Harry's body, as he reached with shaking hands towards the small snake and took him into his arms again. He sat there, with Emerald in his lap, crying harder and harder each second that passed. Finally, he threw his head back, his face illuminated in the flash of lightning striking a tree and leaving the smell of burning wood and a tree on fire, and screamed, a loud, pained wail drowned out by thunder clapping at the same time.

Harry didn't notice the figure standing in the far corner of the garden, under the burning tree. Its cloak billowed as the wind started to howl and rain began to pelt down on the streets. It raised its arm, the one not holding the large scythe, and held it in front of its hooded face. A small green snake was twined around his bony arm and fingers, forked tongue poking in and out of the snake's mouth as they looked at the scene in front of them.

The storm held on for the rest of the summer, never once letting up.

People had started to notice the unusual weather, odd even for Britain, and had started to call it a freak storm.

Nature was mourning the death of a small garden snake together with a toddler of four years old.

~§~FiliusMortis~§~

Small fingers traced the delicate serpentine S inlaid with glittering green stones of the locket held snuggly within the palm of his hand. He hadn't thought about Emerald in a long time. Mostly because it was a traumatizing event for a small child, to see their friend getting killed in front of their eyes, no matter if they were an animal or not. He had repressed the events, and buried them deep within his head in hopes of never thinking of it again. It had been a self-defence mechanism, so he wouldn't get hurt more than he already had. He knew it was the locket that had instigated the painful memories and brought them up from whatever dark hole in his mind he had put them away.

Harry sighed, shaking his head from any lingering thoughts and focused back on the ornament held in his hand. He held it up from the silver chain and brought it to his eyes. It turned in slow circles, the S seemed to move within as it caught the last remnants of sunlight as the sun went down. Harry stared, intrigued, as it slithered in its place. It wasn't hard to visualize it as a minuscule snake.

He could feel the magic pulsating even when he wasn't touching it. It fluctuated evenly, giving the impression of a heartbeat thumping leisurely.

Harry was wary of opening it though, as he could practically see the dark magic oozing out of it. It was a dark purple, almost black in colour and in all the years Harry had been able to see auras, this one was by far the darkest. Most people only had a dark or black glow surrounding it, tainting it. But never had he seen something entirely made out of such dark colours. Harry almost felt sorry for the person this life-force was from. And he knew it was imbedded with someone's life-force, or soul. It felt the same as the moving portraits downstairs.

Harry had at first been confused about the portraits, after all how could an inanimate object give off an aura on its own? No matter how weak the aura was, it was still an aura. He had read in one of the books in the Potter library that, to make a portrait, the person being painted imbeds a small part of their magic so that the wizard or witch leaves a small part of their personality in the painting with the help of enchantments. *

So the fact that this locket has an even stronger aura than the portraits, but weaker than a person's, leaves Harry to think that it wasn't the same enchantments the person used as in the paintings. So Harry grew curious. Extremely so.

A yawn broke him from his musings, and Harry was reminded of how tired he actually was. He looked out of the window, and saw that the sun had gone under some time ago. It was dark out, the moon already up in the sky with a few stars here and there.

He looked back at the locket wistfully, feeling the magic tug on his own, before placing it back on the bedside table. It was high time for some shut-eye.

~§~FiliusMortis~§~

The next morning found Harry getting ready for his classes. It was Monday, the 18th of June and Summer hols were getting closer, as was his birthday. Soon Harry will be ten and then he will have only one more year to prepare and get everything done before he will have to go to magical school.

Harry had done some research a week or two back, as he was curious about the magical school. Apparently Hogwarts wasn't the only school in the UK. There were various other schools spread out, but they were not as exclusive as Hogwarts or the two other prestigious schools in Europe. You could only get in if you received an invitation. The other schools aren't selective of its students, but they also didn't have such an extensive education elective. They only taught the basics, whilst Hogwarts went far beyond that.

There was no doubt that Harry would receive his invitation. He is, after all, The famed Boy Who Lived.

He ran a hand through his still damp hair, various locks sticking up, and gave his hair a moody glance in the mirror. Why did his hair have to look like a rat was nesting in it all the freaking time?! Seriously. No matter what he did with it, it just wouldn't be tamed. Something which his aunt had been irritated about most of the time. At least he got something out of it, he thought. He remembered the one time his aunt had finally snapped and grabbed an electric razor. She had proceeded to shave all his hair off. He remembered feeling mortified, as Dudley was laughing at him from his place on the couch. As he went to bed that night, he had silently cried, curling up on his thin matrass and had pulled his small blanket tightly around him, falling in a fitful sleep.

The next morning after that incident, his aunt had screamed at him. Apparently his hair had grown back to his full length over the night. Harry had been elated, his aunt not so much.

Luckily Vernon hadn't been there when that had happened, or he would have been punished more than he had already been.

Harry shook his head, small droplets of water flying against the mirror as he did so. He was thinking a lot about the Dursleys lately. He didn't like it one bit.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he proceeded back towards his room and quickly got dressed. He slung the shoulder bag containing his papers and books over his shoulder and was about to exit when a glint caught his eye. Harry looked at the locket laying innocently on his bedside table and weighed the consequences of carrying it around with him before giving a shrug and pulling the chain over his head.

The locket seemed to hum once it was nestled against his chest, and Harry felt a chill go down his spine. It wasn't unpleasant per se, but it did catch him by surprise.

Harry looked down at it, tilting his head in curiosity as he felt the magic tugging on his own. Luckily he had enough control on his magic not to let the locket do whatever it wants to do and picked it up in his hand before proceeding to hide it under his shirt. Whoever had hidden the locket obviously hadn't wanted anyone to find it. And Harry wasn't willing to take the chance that it will be taken away before he can find out what it is exactly and what its purpose is.

He was very curious after all.

~§~FiliusMortis~§~

*I know the portraits aren't exactly made this way, but to fit the story I just made it like this.

Poor Emerald! I feel so bad for killing him off in the same chapter he appears in. Am I a bad person now?

Anyways! Leave some love by pressing the button down below! Come on, don't be shy. I won't bite! Much… (ʃƪ¬‿¬)