- Harry Potter and the Bridge of Dreams -

Chapter 10

Of Light And Darkness

There was an interlude of silence; time, nearly ten years time of peace. It was more than many hoped for and less that anyone truly wished...for by the time the darkness had returned, even its servants were less than pleased. Most had spent ten years restoring careful facades of public harmony, becoming comfortable with the luxury of polite society. Only the true sadists welcomed Voldemort when he returned; the few who had retained minds and magic after almost ten years of Azkaban's terror...

- From A Modern Wizarding History, By Datru Thov Depast

The selection and purchase of brooms had taken less than fifteen minutes, so Sirius allowed himself to be talked into bringing the boys to Gringotts. Dudley wanted to exchange the thirty pounds his father had given him for wizarding money, and Harry was interested just to see the goblins and their bank. The marble doors gave way to silver doors, inscribed with words of warning, but Harry was too distracted by the immense space behind those doors, and Dudley was occupied staring at one of the goblins who had bowed them in.

"Boy, do you need my assistance?"

The goblin startled Dudley by speaking, and he jumped – and then rubbed his head sheepishly and shrugged.

"Uh...well, not really – but I've never seen a goblin before, so I was curious. And plus, you bowed, and I didn't know if I should bow back?"

Sirius stared down at Dudley with a mixture of confusion and amusement; the goblin's reaction didn't imply any danger, but one never knew...and especially, Dudley did not know. The goblin appeared to be considering, and then spoke in grating tones.

"You might bow, if you wish to be polite – which staring is not."

Dudley flushed at the pointed comment, but all the same, he bowed back to the goblin and proceeded to take a few steps forward into the bank. He stopped to look back, and Harry and Sirius followed him in. Harry bowed to the goblin on his side of the great silver doors, and Sirius did the same, an amused expression still on his face. For no reason he could explain, he felt as if he had just been part of a masterful prank, only without knowing what it had been.

Shaking off the feeling, he led the boys up to the currency exchange counter and Dudley pulled his money from his pocket.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Dudley gained the attention of a bespectacled, elderly looking goblin, and held up thirty pounds.

"I'd like to exchange this, please, for galleons."

The goblin took the pound notes in his hand and looked at them closely, then passed them beneath a crystal suspended in a bronze holder and nodded his head.

"Your name for the registry?"

"Dudley Evans, sir."

"Evans, Dudley...currency exchange...very well. Minus a transaction fee of five knuts, and you receive four galleons, eleven sickles, and four knuts."

As he spoke, the goblin counted out the appropriate amounts and denominations of coins. Dudley's eyes grew wide as the pile grew; he knew it was the same amount of money he'd had earlier, but it looked much more impressive as a sparkling stack of coins.

"Thank you very much, sir."

"...of course. May Gringotts provide any other service for you today?"

"Um...well, I don't really think I have enough money now, but how do you open an account? My dad says you should save now to spend later."

"An admirable sentiment. To open an account with Gringotts, you are required to provide a drop of blood for account verification, a deposit of at least one galleon, and, because you are a minor, you will require the signature of an adult wizard or witch."

Dudley looked thoughtful, and then nodded decisively.

"Okay, then – can I deposit one galleon, one sickle, and one knut, and open an account? If – if you don't mind signing, Padfoot."

"Nah, that's fine Dudley."

The goblin nodded, and, seemingly pleased, withdrew a sheet of parchment from a stack near his left hand.

"Very well, name...Dudley Evans; account status, new...opening balance, one galleon, one sickle, one knut...and your thumb, Mr. Evans, for the verification -"

Dudley stood on tiptoes and stuck out his hand, reaching over the counter. The goblin raised a wicked looking metal spike, but barely touched it to Dudley's thumb to draw the required drop of blood.

The drop fell from the tip of the spike to the piece of parchment, and then the parchment rolled itself up and vanished in a puff of red smoke. Dudley took his remaining money off the counter and dropped it into his pocket, and then made a sort of half-bow toward the goblin behind the counter, thinking it might be polite.

"Thank you, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Evans."

Sirius hurried the boys along as they made their way out of the bank; their half hour was almost up, but Madam Malkin's was near the bank and they managed to be waiting outside before Mrs. Weasley was quite through.

Harry and Dudley occupied themselves by making faces at the twins through the storefront glass, and in less than five minutes Mrs. Weasley had finished her purchases and was shooing the twins out of the shop in front of her.

"So, are we all ready? I haven't been to the zoo in years, should be loads of fun-"

The four boys let out a whoop in unison.

"Now Fred, George -"

"Aw, mum -"

"Don't mum me – you behave, and listen to Sirius, and for goodness sake don't do anything foolish with the animals!"

"Yes, mum -"

"Yes, mum."

Sirius had chosen, accidentally, a very exciting day to visit the London Wizarding Zoo. The Zoo was celebrating the return of one of its more spectacular exhibits – the Chinese Fireball – after a ten year absence while the dragon mated and hatched her eggs at a reserve in the Far East.

Harry, Dudley, Fred, and George were all ecstatic; Sirius was rather pleased with himself, forgetting that he had not had any foreknowledge of the dragon's return. Deciding to save the best for last, they wandered from one habitat to another, peering through the enclosures at strange beasts. In the south section, nearest the entrance, they found Laughing Apes and the elusive Shadow Lemur. The Laughing Apes were easy to spot, but the Shadow Lemurs flitted from one patch of darkness to another with only their large and luminescent eyes visible.

Beyond the primates were the cats – wild Kneazles, Spotless Leopards, Ember Panthers, and a pair of Sphinxes. Dudley watched the Kneazles stalk back and forth; Harry was enraptured by the flames that flickered occasionally on the Panther's coats, and the twins stood in front of the Sphinxes, listening to their riddles:

"One light, one white, one day, one night; Two shine, two glow – speak their names, if names you know!"

"To start, start time; many victories, means the rest. Who will speak the answer? Which of you knows best?"

Both boys laughed, and opened their mouths at the same time – but Sirius covered them quickly with his hands and nodded toward the sign hovering above the Sphinx enclosure.

Zoo Management Thanks You For Not Answering The Riddles

Sirius let them go after they read it, and shrugged at their matching scowls.

"What? Don't you know that if you answer the riddle wrong, a Sphinx will spend the rest of its life trying to kill you? Sphinxes live much longer than wizards – not to mention, the zoo'll lose its exhibit if they're chasing after you two."

Fred and George paled, and backed away quickly; Sirius chuckled, and called to Harry and Dudley.

"Come on, boys, lots more to see."

Beside the Cats were the Equines – A pair of golden Unicorn foals, glistening in the sun and chasing each other around the edges of their enclosure. Three Pegasi, strutting with their wings unfurled proudly, shaking their feathers and manes as if for a female. The next enclosure appeared empty to Dudley, but Sirius walked up to the fence and Harry followed him, wide-eyed.

"Sirius, what're those?"

"Thestrals, Harry. You can see them?"

"Yeah, why? Can't you?"

Sirius' brow crinkled.

"Well...yes, I can, but...I didn't think either of you would be able to. Dudley, can you see them?"

"No; I was wondering what you two were looking at. What's in there?"

Harry snickered as one of the Thestrals approached the edge of the fence and huffed; Dudley's hair plumed in a puff of air from an invisible source, and he jumped back from the edge of the enclosure and almost fell.

Fred and George wandered over together from where they had been making faces at a Hippogriff – not the most intelligent of pastimes, but the cages were strong enough and the Hippogriffs were used to foolish passersby.

"Hey! Is that Thestrals?"

"We can't see them, but they're supposed to be-"

"Really awesome!"

Sirius nodded, and Harry leaned forward a bit more; there was a Thestral foal near the edge of the enclosure, and despite the skeletal look and gray, misty flesh, it was kinda...cute. Dudley looked once more toward the "empty" pen, and then shrugged and followed the twins to the last paddock in the Equine area, which was smoking ominously.

"Wow -"

"Amazing!"

"No way!"

Three equally breathless exclamations sounded off; in a magically enlarged and cooled paddock, a single red-eyed horse, flame dancing as mane and tail, paced back and forth at the edge of its containment barrier, snorting licks of flame.

"Hey, Padfoot?"

Harry's eyes were drawn back over his shoulder.

"Yeah, pup? Something wrong?"

"Well, no – but...why can you and I see Thestrals, and Dudley and the twins not?"

Sirius looked rather grim for a moment, and rested a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Only those who are touched by Death – those who have watched another human being pass on – can see a Thestral. Some people think they're bad luck because of that, but it's all just superstition; I like them, even if they are a bit...different."

Harry nodded, and Sirius squeezed his shoulder and then nudged him forward.

"Go on, now, gawk at the flaming horsey with the others -"

The flaming horsey looked up sharply, and pierced Sirius with a glaze from inhuman eyes like sparking embers.

"Uh...anyway, moving on, boys, moving on."

In the next section, they passed by a series of smaller cages, containing such creatures as Nifflers, Pixies, a Rubber Mimic, Vicious Tree Moles, and, at the very end of the row, a trio of rare Velveteen Rabbits. Dudley was thrilled to see the little creatures, and immediately began harassing one of the zoo keepers, trying to find out if it was possible to have one for his very own.

Sirius dragged him away with the other boys to the reptile house, apologizing profusely to the zoo keeper. Dudley was embarrassed but Sirius just shook his head and slung an arm around Dudley's shoulder, leaning close.

"Now, I'm guessing since you want one so bad, you've read that book, haven't you?"

Flushing slightly, Dudley stammered his answer with a sideways glance to ensure Fred and George weren't listening in.

"Not..not really – my mum used to read it to me when I was little. It was the only story I really liked."

Sirius nodded.

"Well, then you know what happens at the end of the story, don't you? Velveteen Rabbits are rare, and it's illegal to have them at home – because whenever they are truly loved, they die and are reborn as real rabbits."

Dudley let out a long sigh – but he was quickly distracted by the long, shimmering movement of a real Diamondback Rattlesnake. He joined Fred and George by the tank, and stared at the gorgeous, glittering scales of the snake, which appeared to be real diamonds.

"Wow..."

"Can you imagine how much it'd be worth?"

"Probably a million galleons!"

Sirius was amusing himself watching a pair of Parrot Toads argue, and so between the fascination of the Diamondback and Sirius' snorts of laughter, it was some time before anyone noticed that Harry was standing very quietly, hunched over in front of a long, shaded terrarium. He was focused on a pair of eyes, brilliant blue eyes, because the body behind them was so black that it faded into the shadows of the enclosure.

He was focused because words were coming from the darkness, and occasionally he could see a glimmer of white, fangs shining beneath the blue eyes.

"Ssso foolish, ssso foolish...ssscalelessss flesh, ssso vulnerable...witlesss wizardsss...witlesss wizardsss can't ssspeak nor ssspell..."

"Hey! That'sss not very niccce of you to sssay!"

From the darkness of the enclosure, rustling became a sensate sound and Harry watched a shadow draw itself up and coil into loops of darkness. Dudley came up behind him as the snake was moving out into the light, and breathed out a low, expressive, "Wicked!".

Harry jumped a little, and then turned his eyes to the plaque beside the tank, confused; had he really understood a snake? Talked to one? The information provided didn't help any: Shadowscale Serpent, native to southern India, Sri Lanka, and the jungles of China's deep interior. Harry scanned the other information – scales of iridescent magic, attuned to shadows for protection and stealth – but nothing about it talking.

"Hey, Dudley, did you hear the sssnake sssay anything? I could've sssworn..."

But he got no response from Dudley, who was looking at him very strangely before the serpent before them reacted to Harry's snake-tongued words.

"Sssnake! Ssspeaking wizard, I am no mere ssnake, I am the Shadowssscale!"

Thrashing, the Shadowscale flung itself against the barrier of glass, but was restrained. Harry backed away from it, confused, shaking his head.

Dudley walked along beside him, grinning, looking back at the blue eyes in the tank as the rest of the serpent's body faded back into the shadows again.

"That was pretty awesome, huh Harry! Harry?"

Harry stared back over his shoulder.

"Yeah...hey, but Dudley you really didn't hear anything?"

"Huh?"

"Back there. You didn't hear – you didn't hear that snake talking, did you?"

"No, just you making weird hissing sounds. Hey, can you talk to the snake, do you think?"

"I...I dunno. I'll ask Padfoot later – that would...that would be pretty cool though, right? If I could?"

Dudley grinned.

"Yeah! Hey, maybe you can teach me and then we can get an army of snakes to get in all the girl's beds once we get to Hogwarts!"

Harry snickered and ran along, tugging at the sleeve of Dudley's borrowed robe.

"Come on, we better catch up with Padfoot and the twins."

The aforementioned trio had made their way out of the small creatures exhibits and into the dim, blue-lit aquarium rooms. There was a long line on the left beside a sign that said Gillyweed Aquarium Tours, but Sirius shuffled them forward into the main portion of the exhibit.

"Gillyweed is fun, but if you want to use it properly we'll go to White Island and tour the reefs; way better than an aquarium. They've got some wicked sharks down here, though – look!"

And indeed, through the barriers that enclosed the shimmering waters around them numerous magical sharks and fish were visible. A single Disillusioned Mako Shark moved slowly through the water; only it's teeth were visible, and its eye; the rest of its body looked like the water in which it swam.

The boys stared into the tanks for a while, but they were all getting hungry at this point, having had nothing but ice cream since breakfast, and there was still a good deal to see, including the dragon. Sirius brought the boys to lunch at the zoo restaurant, which was beneath the curving arc of the aquarium tanks they had just been peering into. Light filtered down across their table with a rippling blue hue; their sandwiches were delicious, the butterbeer cool and foaming, and when they had finished the five stood and stretched and agreed that they were ready for the other half of the zoo.

It was just past two when they finally made their way through the magical insects, past the lizards, and up to the final, enormous enclosure where the Chinese Fireball was kept. The sound of roaring that the boys had expected was missing, and when they got up to the top of the viewing platform where they could look down over the sandpit, they saw that they were nearly the only people there. The dragon was sleeping, tail curled around her body and smoke rising from her nostrils, but despite the lack of activity the dragon was still impressive.

"She's beautiful -"

Dudley stared down with wide eyes; half his games had just come to life in front of his eyes, breathing steam and fire from forty feet of red scaled glory.

"Isn't she beautiful, Harry?"

But Harry was not paying attention to his cousin. He was leaning out over the edge of the platform under Sirius' watchful eye, and he was laughing to himself quietly.

"What's so funny, Harry? Harry?"

And then Harry spoke again in that sibilant, hissing voice, and Fred and George fell back in half-fearful silence; even Sirius stared.

"Sssilly dragon'sss talking in her sssleep. She mussst really like bacon or sssomething."

And Dudley spoke again, his voice quavering.

"H-Harry? What...what are you saying? You're doing it again, Harry."

And Harry blinked and turned away from the snake and back to his cousin.

"Huh? What'd I do, Dud?"

But it was Sirius, pale faced and sweating slightly, who crouched beside Harry and looked him in the eye.

"You were hissing, Harry, and I've heard that sound before. Can you talk to snakes, Harry? Are you a parselmouth?"

Harry stared.

"A what mouth? I talked to that Shadowscale earlier, but I haven't seen a snake before that – and I can understand her, too, but isn't that just magic?"

At that Sirius sighed and stood up.

"Her, Harry?"

"Yeah, the dragon. It's a her, right?"

The twins came close again, and swallowed, and laid each a hand on Harry's shoulders.

"Harry, mate -"

"You are a parselmouth. Boy is our brother Charlie going to be jealous of you!"

At that Sirius relaxed a little, but he leaned forward and shook his head.

"Fred, George, you can't tell anyone about this. Harry – Dudley, same goes for you. Parseltongue is not a language that many can speak, and those who can speak it have given it a very bad reputation. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a parselmouth; do you understand, Harry?"

Harry scowled.

"Yeah, but – if evil wizards gave it a bad reputation, can't I be a good wizard and give it a good reputation?"

Sirius blinked.

"Well, maybe. But you're only nine years old, Harry. You've got plenty of time to be a hero and change reputations and all that stuff when you're older."

He shooed them out of the enclosure then, because it was getting late and he and Harry and Dudley still had shopping to do – and Molly would be waiting for the twins...

The long shadows of the dark forest stirred with whispers and with night, though the sun was not yet set and the horizon was still hung with banners of orange and crimson color. Within those shadows was a moving presence, a vaporous essence that had awaited the passing of long years and the restoration of its strength, only to be thwarted by the boundaries of its fleshless form.

He counseled patience within himself, and quiet, and murmured sweet nothings of sleep, sweet sleep and immortality...

But the enchantment of patience and wait, wait, just a little longer, wait, could no longer seduce the strength of his will into silence. With such ease that it was ridiculous, the spirit slipped within a shape, a shape that pleased him in a certain sense, for this was a speaking, sentient being, magic in essence if not in form.

He turned the serpent's head toward the west, the setting sun, and began the long journey back to the land from whence he had come.

In the serpent's shape, he moved more slowly, far more slowly – but he was able to pick up currents of information as he passed through dark corners and shadows and the cities of men. Even in the body of a mere snake he retained a magical presence that allowed him access to hidden doorways and secret alleys, and in these places he learned as much as he could about his homeland, which once he had held in the palm of his hand, and now was stolen from him, held by his enemies...

The further west he went, the more he learned. Several times, he changed his habitation, for the stress of hosting his mind and power was one for which the bodies he found were not suited – but for the loan of their senses, he continued to use them, occasionally flitting from one city to another in vaporous shape, just to speed the journey along.

It took an entire month for him to make his way to France, and the coasts that led westward to the nation of his birth, and rise...and fall.

My defeat...at the hands of that...child! That...infant. I will destroy him! I will find his...secrets, his...hiding places. And then his life will be mine!

It was not hard work to listen near the docks for the sound of voices speaking tongues he knew, and when he found a ship that was soon to make its way across the narrow bridge of sea to England's lonely isle he stowed away out of sight, away from the cold salt spray, and waited.

Thus it was that on the morning of September first, Voldemort, who long had been in hiding, waiting in a spirit's essence for some change of fortune, some twist of fate – Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, disembarked in the shape of a serpent, from a muggle ferry carrying tourists from the coast of France to Great Britain.

In a muggle's trunk, hidden behind a large bit of a luggage and a spare tire, the snake that carried the spirit of the Dark Lord made its way into London – and there, in the tangle of alleyways and shops that made up the city's center, Voldemort found Diagon Alley, and the wizarding world in which he had gained power.

What he found were rumors, whispers of politics, conversations and family troubles, haggling and the cries of shopkeepers and the vendors on the street hawking their wares, the hissing of the few snakes that inhabited the alley, the sounds of mice and the footsteps of men, and, louder to other senses, the footsteps of their magic.

As he had done to the muggles, he did here, following through the shadows until he found a man who was going where he wanted to go – to the ministry of magic, to the Department of Records and Inheritances.

There was a boy he wanted to check on, a boy whose name he knew and whose address he had to find.

The man slipped through the floo with a snake attachd to his robes and didn't notice; on the other side, in his office, he did – but it was too late then, for something dark and smokey and violent in its purpose drew up out of the snake and forced itself into his nostrils, into his mouth and his ears and even into the sockets of his eyes.

Then he was dead, for all intents and purposes, and only Lord Voldemort was left.

He found quickly enough what he wanted to know, and abandoned the man's dying body on the desk in the office; it would be found later, and no one would understand, and no one would ask the right questions.

Not until far too late.

A/N: Ah...long time no post. Apologies indeed; look forward to more, sooner rather than later, because I'm intent on finishing up a few fics at at time. Plus I actually have some idea where this is going now. I hereby dedicate this chapter to everyone who actually was reading it before and is reading it again now, for I am glad you stuck out the wait!

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