Summary: After being turned into a snake by Snape and Dumbledore and unable to change back, Lord Voldemort has no choice but to turn to the only other living Parselmouth, Harry Potter. After making a deal with each other, Harry agrees to help the Dark Lord return to his human form. Forced to work together, how will Harry deal with having Voldemort live around his neck?

Rating: M for slight language and eventual slash

Warnings: Eventual Harry/Voldemort SLASH (please don't read if you don't like), Grey(ish)!Harry, Slightly-manipulative but not "evil"!Dumbledore

Disclaimer: I don't, and never will, own Harry Potter. All it's plots and characters belong to J.K. Rowling and company.

A/N: Once again, thank you to all those who've reviewed/faved/alerted this story. I appreciate all my anonymous reviewers, as well, even if I can't reply to you all.

BKwriter did another great pic of Harry and Voldie that you can see here: i360. photobucket. com/ albums/ oo41/ bone-kun/ voldiesnake2. png
(remove spaces) Thank you BKwriter! This one's adorable.

I like this chapter, though the end may be completely ridiculous, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head ;)

Also, I had a request from an anonymous reviewer OreoCookies for fics I know of where Harry's the snake. The only one I know of is Life as a Snake by FairyTails13.

I don't have a beta so any spelling/grammer mistakes/stupid ideas are mine ;)

Enjoy!


"Regular speech"

:Parseltongue:

Thoughts

"Spells"

:Spells:


:What gives?: Harry demanded as he climbed the stairs to reach Gryffindor Tower. His mood was decidedly unsavory, what with a sore hand from the torturous copying during Snape's detention and the irritation over Voldemort's little escapade. Really, if the man already didn't want to kill Harry, he would be the death of him from just how much of a handful he was.

:You're willing to get caught running loose around Snape's office but you aren't willing to reveal your situation to Lucius Malfoy, an actual loyal Death Eater?:

:It was worth the risk,: Voldemort responded, indifferent to Harry's near-concern…because that's what it was. Harry maybe wanted to deny it, but he had been worried that the Dark Lord's impatience was going to get him into trouble; after all, it's happened before, Harry thought with a slight shake of his head. Somewhat frustrated with all that had been occurring to him lately, he blew his dark bangs out of his eyes as he heaved a heavy sigh.

:So…was it? Worth the risk, I mean.:

Voldemort nodded, a gesture Harry saw from the corner of his eye. He was still amused at the human expressions the snake managed to use.

:I know definitively there is a space beneath the floor. The scent is strongest behind the desk near the back of the office.:

Harry sighed again. :Snape knows about the Parselmagic now…getting into his office may be more difficult now.:

:Indeed. You may want to research wards in preparation.:

Great; more work.

:We're going to have to wait until he is completely gone from the castle,: Harry continued. :Let's hope he actually leaves over the hols. I think he suspects you, but can't prove it. I'm beginning to think I should have Obliviated Malfoy. We already suspect he told his father as well…saving your arse just made my job harder.:

Harry laughed over the absurdity of that statement. He was, after all, the Chosen One to defeat the Dark Lord, not save him. He was working in the opposite direction, and really was quite literally making his own job harder. But he had to face the truth; he found saving people easier than killing them.

If only saving Voldemort and defeating him was the same thing…

Voldemort grumbled something indiscernible, perhaps uncomfortable with the notion of his rescue.

Harry stepped in front of the Fat Lady's portrait, but delayed saying the password in favor of making one last comment to the Dark Lord in disguise.

:Next time you decide to be a Gryffindor, warn me will ya?:

:Only if you never Accio me again. How uncouth.:

Harry had the audacity to giggle.


"Ah, Harry, may I speak with you for a moment?"

Harry glanced up from the stone floor of the hallway he'd been walking through to meet the ever gleaming eyes the Headmaster.

"Of course, Sir."

Dumbledore sidled up next to Harry and walked beside him. "I see you've signed up to stay over during the holidays. I had thought you would rather stay with your friends. May I ask why you are not?"

Harry felt a twinge of panic and tried to erect the barely-there Occlumency shields he had developed with the book Voldemort suggested. But it had only been a few days of practice, and Harry knew they were mostly useless. So Harry just kept his eyes forward and tried to not look bothered by the question, or at least not as if he had a secret.

"Well Sir," Harry started, "I'm worried about Voldemort. The incident with the Ministry has made me…" Harry swallowed hard. "It made me realize the sort of risks my friends put themselves in by being around me. Voldemort would stop at nothing to get to me. It would kill me if something happened to any of them because of me."

Frowning, Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, halting Harry's forward motion. Voldemort subtly shied away from the black, wrinkled hand, but otherwise did not react. Harry felt rather uncomfortable with that hand there, too.

"Harry, you can't live your life in fear of Voldemort. While it's true that there is a certain risk for those around you, I think you would find that they gladly accept it."

"I know that Sir," Harry assured him. He decided to just give the same excuse he had given his friends. "But Voldemort has been quiet lately, and I wonder if he's planning something. I'll have a better holiday knowing that if I stay in the castle there will be less chance my friends would be in danger if those plans involve me. It's about due time for his annual 'Try to kill Potter' attempt," Harry said dryly and risked a glance into Dumbledore's eyes, which were slightly chastising. "Besides, Hogwarts is more my home than anywhere else, and it won't be hard to spend Christmas here."

Dumbledore arched a bushy eyebrow. "Harry, wouldn't you rather say home is where those you love are? You shouldn't limit yourself."

Harry looked down again. "I know; I'm not…I won't. It doesn't hurt anybody if I stay here, though, so that's what I've decided to do. Don't worry about me, I'll still have a happy Christmas here." Harry smiled at the Headmaster, a genuine expression that was only slightly dulled by a slight amount of guilt he felt from lying.

Studying Harry for a moment before slowly nodding, Dumbledore said, "If you are sure, my boy. In that case, I trust you don't mind meeting me up in my office again, do you?"

Harry's brow crinkled when he widened his eyes in slight surprise at Dumbledore's indication that he would be given Voldemort "lessons" over break. "Oh, no, that would be great."

"Very well, I shall see you later."

Harry bid the Headmaster goodbye and continued his journey to his dorm.

:You better be grateful, you asshole, for all I do for you," Harry grumbled. Sometimes he wished it wasn't the seasonal break from Quidditch, in which case Voldemort would have been forced to come along for the ride. He could always pull his broom out anyway…

Voldemort said nothing in response.

Plopping heavily down on his bed once he was in Gryffindor Tower, Harry pulled out his wand to place it on his nightstand, but paused and rolled the stick of holly wood between his fingers.

:Hey Voldemort?:

:What?: the snake said with a slight acerbic grumbling.

Harry ignored his tone. :Why is it, do you think, that we have brother wands?:

Taking the time to slither down Harry's arm and down onto the comforter, Voldemort curled up at the foot of the bed as always while Harry shifted so he was facing the snake.

:How do you mean?: the snake asked in a rather neutral tone. Encouraged, Harry continued in his train of thought.

:I mean…if you believe it, we're destined to kill or be killed by each other, and yet here we get chosen by wands that are ineffective against the other in a deadly fight. Maybe there was some sort of clause to that prophesy that said we had to have an epic sword fight to the death instead of using magic?: Harry said lightly, genuinely amused when he thought of it. :How droll.:

:Yes, : Voldemort hissed slowly, :it is somewhat…curious.:

Harry nodded. :That's what Ollivander said. It is strange, isn't it? Here we are, "mortal enemies", and our wands tell us…what? That we are supposed to be, er, friends? Oh shush, I'm just saying,: Harry said, interrupting Voldemort's tirade against the use of "friends" in a sentence involving the two of them.

:I blame you, Potter,: Voldemort informed the younger wizard.

:What? Why me?: Harry exclaimed, indignant.

:I blame you because it is clearly your fault.:

Harry drew back. :Wait a minute, you were the one who marked me as your enemy. Doesn't that make it your fault?:

:Of course not, I had my wand first.:

Harry rolled his eyes. :Your logic sucks.: He fell onto his back, placing his arms behind his head. While Voldemort clearly didn't see much into their brother wands, or at least outwardly didn't, Harry still felt there was something significant about it. What were the odds that two enemies would have wands incapable of actual battle against each other? It was just so stupid.

:It wouldn't, I mean…: Harry rolled onto his side, his cheek pressed into his pillow. :Does it have anything to do with our connection?:

Voldemort didn't respond right away. :I suppose it could,: he answered slowly, reluctantly.

:I've been meaning to ask,: Harry said after a moment of deliberation, :if you knew what exactly it is, because you can't tell me it's normal.:

This time Voldemort did not answer.

:You don't know, do you?: Harry tilted his head so he could look down the bed at the snake curled there.

Voldemort flickered his tongue in and out of his mouth. :It is highly unusual,: he admitted to the younger wizard.

Harry wanted to ask more, but at that moment Ron walked into the Sixth Year boy's dorm and addressed his friend.

"Hey mate, are you coming or what?"

Harry sat quickly up from the bed. "Oh, right, I forgot we were all going to study tonight." Harry stood, picking up a lax Voldemort and his bag of books and followed Ron down to the Common Room, where Hermione was waiting.

"There you are, Harry. Now," Hermione said, placing a piece of parchment—wait, was that a lesson plan? Ack, of course, this was Hermione—in front of where Harry sat down at. "I think you need to focus on your Charms theory, Harry, you've been struggling with that…" And on she went, as usual taking control of the study session. Harry worked quietly while Voldemort lay wrapped comfortingly around his shoulders.

If Harry didn't know any better, he'd swear the Dark Lord was napping.


:Honestly, Potter, can't we just get this over with now? Stop preening.:

Harry sneered at the image of Voldemort in the mirror while he adjusted his collar.

:Just because I look young and pretty and you don't doesn't mean you have to complain about it…you made yourself snake-faced, not me. I really wish I could leave you behind, but the tether won't break until midnight tonight.:

Voldemort hissed in simultaneous retort and agreement while Harry made his way down the stairs into the Common Room where he met up with Hermione. He'd managed to skip out of Professor Slughorn's Slug Club meetings, but now he was trapped into going to the man's Christmas party. Hermione was invited too, for being such a brilliant witch, but Harry knew he was only invited because he didn't die when should have. What a thing to be famous for.

Voldemort had grumbled about being subjected to the flamboyant torture of the Professor's "collecting" habits he'd thought he had long escaped. Harry told him that at least he wasn't the focus of said collecting anymore.

"You ready?" Harry addressed the polished Hermione. "You look beautiful, by the way."

:Potter, need I remind you that I forbade you to consort with the female sex while in my presence?:

:Oh, I'll keep it in mind that males are okay then,: Harry said out of the corner of his mouth in rejoinder, never dropping his smile aimed at his fellow Gryffindor while Voldemort made a curious choking noise. Hermione blushed and looked down at her crème, shimmery dress, smoothing a hand down the front of it. "Thanks, Harry. You're looking quite dashing yourself."

Harry wrinkled his nose and looked down at the constricting dress robes he wore. Hermione laughed at his expression.

As Voldemort very well knew, Harry and Hermione were just going as friends. Hermione had planned on bringing Ron, but they recently had a falling out over what Harry considered petty happenstance. Really, Harry wondered, when were his two friends going to get their act together and realize what they meant to each other? Harry had suggested they go together instead and that way they would both know they would have a good time.

Harry had actually been semi-serious about his earlier comment to Voldemort about other males. In the Muggle world homosexual relationships had been ostracized, but when Harry entered the Wizarding World it hadn't really been a problem, though typically the older bloodlines were expected to produce an heir somehow regardless of sexual orientation. Harry had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the world he was born to, and it wasn't hard to adopt the customs that made sense. Harry thus far hadn't had much luck with the ladies—the Cho Chang fiasco had just been awkward, and Ginny was more of a sister—so maybe he should give the men a try…?

Granted, right now he had way too much on his plate to even consider any kind of relationship. He was in a complicated enough one right now with Voldemort, as odd as it sounded. Yes, right now he'd rather go to party with Hermione, confident in the knowledge that they both saw and would always see each other as really great friends.

The twosome, technically three, left the Tower and continued on to Slughorn's party. Walking side by side, lost in mindless banter, the two arrived at Slughorn's large office where the party was being held. As Voldemort had told Harry to expect, the room was swathed in greens, reds and metallics, accented by ornate candles strewn around the room. The air was heavy with perfumes and other scents, and somewhere there was cheery music playing.

"Oh," Hermione gaped. "Isn't this…lovely."

Harry immediately left to get some punch for him and Hermione. If Harry had wanted his presence to stay inconspicuous, he was sorely disappointed.

"Ah, Harry m'boy! When did you get here? Never mind, never mind…so glad you could make it! Are you enjoying the party?"

Harry nodded, carefully pulling the cups of punch he held in both hands out of the way of Slughorn's flailing hands.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you for inviting me," Harry said, turning his attention from the punch back to Slughorn.

"Oh anytime, anytime, child. After all, it wouldn't have been a party without the Boy-Who-Lived, now would it?"

Inwardly Harry scowled while on the outside he planted a stiff smile on his face. Luckily, Slughorn got distracted by some other well-to-do guest and excused himself so Harry could get back to his friend and give Hermione her the punch.

The party actually turned out to be mildly interesting. After all, there was a great deal of famous or notable people present, including a vampire. Voldemort would whisper the names of some of the people he recognized, and even told Harry to go introduce himself to a few. Many people at first were a little taken aback by the snake draped as unobtrusively as he could manage around Harry's shoulders, but soon word got around that the Boy-Who-Lived had rescued a snake from certain death, which at least placated some. It was a well-known fact, sometimes a rumor, that Harry Potter was a Parselmouth, what with every student at Hogwarts knowing it would have been a hard secret to keep anyway. It wouldn't take long before the piece of info that he actually used the rare ability to converse with his pet snake to get out, either. Harry wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospect of even more "going Dark" rumors, but he was prepared for and used to it.

Now, if it ever got out that his snake was Voldemort…now, that would truly be something to witness. Oh, the panic…Ha, it might even be worth it, Harry mused in his mind.

As for Hermione, she herself was rather pleased with the party as well, finding a well-known author to converse at length with.

Partway through the night, Harry was approached by a tall wizard with dark brown hair and dressed in flattering slate grey robes, complete with deep maroon trimmings. He had a pleasant smile on his face as he held out his hand in offer for a handshake.

"Hello, I'm Danton Drusferd." His voice was a light tenor that easily traveled the distance between them.

Harry glanced at the hand before he looked up into the other wizard's rather unremarkable grey eyes, though they looked friendly enough. He took the hand in his. "Hello, I'm—"

"Yes, Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. That was the fifth time that night he hadn't been allowed to introduce himself. Nevertheless, he replied, "It's nice to meet you too. Were you a Hogwarts student?" Harry asked, making light conversation. There was something slightly familiar about the other wizard. Danton looked relatively young, no older than twenty-two. His face was thin, with rather prominent cheek bones and a straight nose. He wasn't overly handsome, but he did have a sort of an allure about him.

"I was a Fifth Year when you were in your First," the other boy replied. "I remember because that was my OWL year, and you were quite a distraction by all the mischief you caused. I was rather impressed; making the Quidditch team, fighting a troll, taking out that twisted Dark Arts teacher. Yes, quite impressive," he repeated with an amused smile. Harry couldn't help but smile back. Voldemort stirred underneath Harry's robes.

"I hope your OWL grades didn't suffer because of me," Harry quipped. Danton chuckled lightly.

"Oh, don't worry. I was a Ravenclaw," he said as his only explanation, but Harry arched his brow in understanding. "It was quite interesting to watch you take Hogwarts by storm," Danton continued, eying Harry with a strange, engrossed expression on his face. Harry felt the need to fidget, and he scratched the back of his neck.

"Well, I'm glad I could provide such spectacular entertainment," Harry voiced dryly, but his expression was undaunted. "How do you know Professor Slughorn?"

Danton shrugged. "My mother was part of his little club. She brought me along as her guest. Can't say was I excited about the prospect," he said, shrugging again and looking straight at Harry, "but I now find it was worth it."

"Oh, ha," Harry stumbled, "why is that?"

"I got to meet you," Danton said with an easy grin. Harry's eyes widened fractionally. He hadn't expected this. A slow smile crossed his face. Sure, he had just told himself he didn't have any time for a relationship, but flirting wasn't any kind of commitment. And besides, when was the last time he got to feel and act like a real teenager? Furthermore, he found he didn't mind that it was another male he was chatting up. Perhaps he was on to something here.

"This party has turned out to be rather interesting," Harry agreed. Danton seemed to catch on and leaned in a little closer. The cloth of Harry's robe began rippling, but neither boy seemed to notice.

"Harry, would you like to—"

But Danton didn't finish because Voldemort rather abruptly decided to make his unobtrusive presence far more…obtrusive…by propelling his head out from under the collar of Harry's robe and rearing it back in the classic cobra S. From his venomous mouth came a series of low, inarticulate hissing, mostly meaningless save for one word: mine.

Huh?

Danton, in the meantime, had taken a step back. "Why is it doing that?" he asked, not exactly afraid but cautious.

"I don't know," Harry answered with a glare a then offending figure hanging over his shoulder. "Sometimes I wonder if his stint in the cold loosened a screw or five in his head.

"Oh," Danton said blandly. His eyes flickered around the room before turning back to Harry, who was beginning to feel an awkward silence fall between them. "Well, Harry, my mother wanted to leave the party early. We're vacationing in America for the holidays, and we leave tomorrow." He paused. "It was really nice meeting you."

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling a little disappointed, "you too."

With Hermione still otherwise occupied, as soon as Danton was out of Harry's line of sight, the teen found himself in a secluded corner.

:Why'd you do that?:

:Do what?: Voldemort growled out sourly.

Harry threw up his hands. :You scared him away! Merlin, it's like your only pleasure in life is to sap all the fun out of mine.: Harry nearly face palmed, because on many levels that may very well have been true. Death threats and attempts really put a damper on life, and Voldemort sure has made a hobby out of that.

:…I did not like him.:

Harry blinked. :You didn't like him,: he said slowly, incredulously. :Are you for real? You don't like anybody, how was he any different than everyone else I associate with here at Hogwarts? And what's up with you saying "mine"?:

Voldemort curled his upper lip in a sneer. :I don't know what you are talking about. I never said that.:

Harry frowned, thoroughly befuddled. :Yes you did. I heard you. You don't remember?:

:I don't remember because I didn't say that. Get your hearing checked, boy.: Voldemort turned away and refused to say anything further. Harry huffed in frustration and decided for what must have been the thousandth time that there are some things he shouldn't even bother with, like trying to convince an insane Dark Lord that his actions did not make any sense. Maybe he really had just misheard.

:Eh, he was probably just talking to me 'cause I'm the 'Boy-Who-Lived', whoop-dee-doo,: Harry groused.

Harry was still brooding, for a lack of a better term, in his corner when Professor Slughorn approached him once more. The man was quite flushed in the face and Harry suspected he was a bit tipsy.

"Hello Harry, still having fun? Good, good." Slughorn collapsed his weight against the bare stone wall next to where Harry stood and sighed. For once the elder wizard was silent. Voldemort shifted restlessly around Harry's shoulders.

It was then that Harry began to think that the man next to him had been one of Tom Riddle's professors. They had discussed it once or twice briefly, but Slughorn had been very reluctant to talk about it much. Harry supposed he couldn't blame him, but there were many things he was curious about.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

Harry hesitated, before asking, "When you had Christmas parties before, did Tom Riddle go?"

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw the man swallow heavily before he answered quietly, "Yes, I dare say he never missed one."

"What was he like?"

Interestingly, Voldemort seemed poised to hear the response as well. Slughorn's eyes glazed as he peered into the past, alcohol keeping at bay any sort of reluctance to speak of Tom Riddle as he normally had.

"Oh, Harry, he was the star, the best and the brightest. His mere presence drew everyone's attention. I know now he probably never really enjoyed the parties, but at the time you would never have known otherwise, the way he smiled and laughed with everyone else. Only he knows the lies he had hidden beneath those blue eyes of his."

Slughorn closed his own while Harry studied him intently.

"He could have been great, you know. He had so much potential to do good instead of evil. People listened to him, would have done many things for him all without bloodshed. He could have been Minister, Headmaster, anything he wanted. Not all his ideas were bad, Harry, and I had hoped that in time he would come to see the benefit of changing his opinion about some of the others. He was smart, ever so smart; it wouldn't have taken him long. But then he…I told him...But then he changed," the man finally finished, wincing at whatever would have completed that fragmented sentence. Guilt fell off the suddenly wizened man in waves, and Harry wondered what Slughorn blamed himself for.

Slughorn pushed himself from the wall, looking for all intents and purposes completely sober.

"But that was then, and no matter how much of a genius Tom Riddle was, I very much doubt anything could make V-Voldemort change his mind now," he stuttered, surprising Harry that he even uttered the forbidden name. "It is getting late, Harry, you best be going off to bed now. Goodnight."

And with that Slughorn walked off with nary a glance back at Harry, who stood in the darkened corner which felt more desolate than it had before.

:Is he right, Harry?: Voldemort hissed quietly, an indefinable note to the sound. Harry didn't even realize he had used his first name.

:Yes,: Harry said, although he didn't know what he was really agreeing to and he suspected Voldemort knew that as well. Glancing around, he spotted Hermione waiting for him by the door and went off to meet her so they could head back up to Gryffindor Tower.


Harry tried to sleep that night, he really did. But he couldn't, accomplishing nothing but rumpled bedcovers from all his tossing and turning. He tried to keep from disturbing the sleeping Dark Lord (Merlin knew that man needed his sleep to stay fairly tolerable in mood) but apparently his best efforts weren't enough.

:Potter, what will it take to get you to sleep?: a grumpy-sounding Voldemort hissed from the far end of the bed just over Harry's toes.

:How about a bedtime story?: Harry mumbled into his pillow.

:Once upon a time, there was a fatuous Gryffindor—:

:Never mind,: Harry interrupted, rolling onto his back and kicking off the covers from one of his legs. :I've never had a bedtime story before, so I don't even know if I'd fall asleep to it anyway.: Harry sighed. :Wanna do something else?:

:Not really.:

:Ok great, I have just the thing.: Voldemort groaned as Harry crawled over him to the end of the bed, pulling aside his deep red curtain so he could slip out. As slowly as he could so as to keep the squeaking of hinges to a minimum since he was outside his silencing barrier, Harry opened his trunk and reached inside for his desired object. When he scuttled back into bed, he had a small rectangular object clutched in his left hand. From under his pillow he grabbed his wand and uttered a quiet Lumos.

Voldemort shied slightly away from the light before adjusting and flicking his tongue in Harry's direction.

:Are those…Muggle cards?:

:Yup.: Harry pulled the tin lid off the card box and set it aside, flipping the bottom over so the cards fell into his waiting hand before setting that aside as well.

:You intend for us to play a game of Muggle cards?:

:Yup,: Harry repeated confidently.

:Potter, I don't know if you realize this—I know it's very hard for you to understand this with your puerile mind—but I don't have any hands.:

:Hardy har har, you really are so funny. I like that in a person, you know?: Harry shuffled the cards in quick snapping motions, breaking the deck in half before slotting them together again in a new order. :I know you might not believe this with your inflated ego but you are not the only wizard alive.: Voldemort sneered as his previous insult was tossed back in his face. :I'll magic them so they float in the air,: Harry explained. :I also promise not to cheat, since I have more class than others in my current company.:

Voldemort scoffed. :War is messy, boy. Life isn't fair, anyway.:

"Isn't that the truth," Harry whispered in English. He then proceeded to set the pile of cards out in front of him.

:I suppose you might know some Muggle card games, but do you know cribbage?:

:Yes.: Voldemort was staring at Harry like he was the insane one.

Harry ignored him. :Well, do you know how to play it?:

:Why would I want to learn a game played with Muggles?:

:They didn't let you play, did they?:

:How much exactly do you know about my childhood?: Voldemort growled, clearly not impressed by Harry's blasé inferences.

:I'll tell you later. And don't worry, I was never allowed to play either,: Harry said sympathetically. Harry wasn't sure just how much of his own childhood Voldemort knew, what with the man getting into his head on a regular basis, but he hurried on before Voldemort could respond. :I learned eventually, though, so I'll teach you.:

:I don't want to learn a childish game!:

:Heh, you sound childish enough right now to me,: Harry retorted. :Please, just bear with me. We can make up for our piss-poor childhoods now. Please play with me? I think you'll like this game, and it'll help me sle-eep," Harry sing-songed, widening his gleaming green eyes pleadingly at the cobra. Harry could almost say that the Dark Lord's upper lip curled in a grimace before his body inflated in a drawn out sigh.

:Fine, Potter, one game only,: the snake grumbled, shifting his long body into a better position.

Harry's brows rose to his hairline. :Really?: Harry had honestly got the cards out to play solitaire because he didn't think Voldemort would agree to play. That he actually had agreed was…nice? Confusing? The result of a sleep-deprived brain or simply a dismal childhood?

:Don't make me repeat it.:

Well, even if Voldemort agreeing had been unexpected, that didn't mean Harry was going to mention that and have him back out.

Harry beamed radiantly, thrilled that he had managed to convince the Darkest wizard in history to a game of cribbage. He wondered what else he could convince Voldemort to do when promised sleep, because it obviously couldn't be Harry's sob story and pleading eyes that persuaded him…

:Okay, here are the rules…:

Later, once Voldemort was briefed on how to play the game, Harry grabbed his wand again and cast a spell he had learned from the Weasley Twins on the card pile set out in on the bed. The cards glowed briefly before six cards were magically dealt to each of them, the given hands levitating in the air in front of them. From under his bed Harry pulled a dusty cribbage score board. Harry told Voldemort to cut the deck to get the starter card, which resulted in the snake using his nose to push half the deck aside. The corner of Harry's mouth quirked at the sight before he flipped the new top card: a five of hearts.

Harry looked at his hand and discarded a pair of eights to the crib while Voldemort chose two cards from his hand to discard.

:I go first,: Voldemort declared. Harry just rolled his eyes.

:By all means,: Harry told him with a sweeping gesture of his hand. Never mind that it was his turn anyway.

Voldemort tapped a card and a jack landed face up on the bed. Harry looked at him expectantly.

:You've gotta say it.:

Voldemort snapped his jaw. :Ten.:

Harry smirked and tapped his own card, and a five was laid down.

:Fifteen for two.:

Voldemort grumbled as Harry moved his peg on the cribbage board.

:Twenty-two,: Voldemort huffed out after he tapped his seven card and it laid itself down.

:Twenty-eight for three,: Harry said triumphantly as he laid down this six, resulting in a run.

And so the game continued. Harry was in the lead after the first round, but Voldemort dealt the next hand and evened out the score rather quickly.

:Perhaps we should use this game as a gamble for the Wizarding World,: Voldemort said pleasantly in a sickeningly sweet voice.

:Just because I'm a Gryffindor doesn't mean I'm stupid,: Harry intoned, expression bored.

:You said it, not me,: Voldemort returned. Harry chuckled, but then Voldemort scored his crib and got a score of sixteen. Harry pouted petulantly as his peg fell behind of Voldemort's. The snake hissed in pleasure.

They played several more rounds, the only talk between them being the traditional phrases for game.

:This is fun,: Harry commented offhandedly.

Voldemort flicked his tongue out. :If you say so, Potter.: He cut the deck again for Harry's deal.

:Hey, I could have made you play Go fish. And this is fun, trust me, because I think we can both agree I'm a better judge of that than you.:

Voldemort placed down an eight to follow Harry's eight, getting a pair. :Twenty-six for two. Are you insinuating that I do not know how to have fun?:

:Ha! Thirty—can you follow that?—then thirty for one. By the way, torture and mindless killing does not count,: Harry articulated with a roll of his eyes. Voldemort issued a hissy chuckle.

:And how would you know, Potter? That pathetic attempt of yours at the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix cannot be considered a proper effort.:

Harry winced slightly at the reminder of what happened at the Ministry. His previous lighthearted expression dimmed. :It's your turn,: he said blandly. Voldemort eyed the teen for several moments before he twitched and tapped a card.

Voldemort ultimately won the game. He seemed quite satisfied with this accomplishment.

:Wanna play again?: Harry asked.

:I said one game only.:

:Oh, alright…: Harry gathered the cards into one pile to put them pack in their case.

:…Will you be able to fall asleep now?:

Shrugging, Harry said noncommittally, :Maybe.:

:We will play one more game to ensure I will not be subjected to your restlessness…it keeps me up.:

They played one and a half more games. Harry fell asleep during the third, hence the half game played. It was a relatively abrupt transition from wakefulness to sleep, if appearances were to be trusted. Harry's body lay on top of his card-covered comforter, and the teen's head was cushioned by one arm while his feet were huddled under his pillow. In the crook of his neck and shoulder rested a pale, triangular head, lidless red eyes vacant in sleep, and curled around one of Harry's fingers was the tip of a smooth-scaled snake tail.


Ok, hope them playing cards wasn't too over the moon, but I thought it was cute :P

Thanks for reading! Oh, next chapter we will finally get some Voldie P.O.V., see what's happening in his mind