Harry Potter and the Serpent's Rebellion

Disclaimer: Harry Potter=not mine

Summary: What is the reason behind Harry's uncanny resemblance to Tom Riddle? Dark secrets about his heritage are about to be uncovered…

Author Notes: Sorry for the cliffie, but I just couldn't resist. I think that my chapters are a bit too short. So would you rather I take longer to update, but with longer chapters? Please tell me in your reviews. Of course I won't kill Sev yet. In case you couldn't already tell, he will play a MAJOR role in the story.

Chapter four: Snape's Sacrament

All the remaining color on Snape's face left it. For a horrified second, he thought that he might lose consciousness. Pulling his wits back together, he quickly regained his composure. "Me, my Lord? Surely, you jest. After all, I hold no secrets from you." His voice was mildly incredulous.

"Indeed? But I was so sure that you were part of Dumbledore's pathetic Order," Voldemort frowned slightly in mock contemplation. "If this is true, then you would not mind if I just you as a test subject for this Veritasserus, hm?"

"I'm sorry, my Lord, but I think that I am slightly allergic to Veritaserum."

"I have an antidote incase anything unfortunate happens. I would like to see how Veritaserum could trigger allergic reactions." Voldemort smirked. He knew that there was no way ever the smooth and sly Snape could talk him self out of this trap.

Severus's mind furiously tried to think of a way out of this situation. He finally reached a conclusion that there was no escape. Well, if he were to die, then he would die with style.

"You're right, Tom Riddle! I have been spying on you for over sixteen years. And you and your pathetic little death eaters had no clue. Why do you think Dumbledore hired me as potions master? How do you think the Potters knew you were after their blood?" Snape laughed bitterly. "You call yourself a legimens? You could not detect any of the lies that I have fed you."

If Voldemort's snake-like face could have purpled in rage, it would have. However, his pale, inhuman features were incapable of such a feat, so he settled for narrowing his eyes and snarling in anger.

Voldemort dropped his pleasant, conversational manner. "You chose the losing side in your loyalties, Snape. With your skills, you could easily have become my right-hand man. The world would have been in your grasp. What would Dumbledore offer you? He would not give a damn over your death. You are merely a tool to use for his manipulations."

"You're lying!" shouted Snape. "I did not join the Order because of Dumbledore, but because I hate your guts."

"Interesting," Voldemort mused, "I was under the impression that most joined the wretched Order because of their unwavering trust and loyalty to the old fool. You could almost call him the Light Lord." He chuckled. "In fact, they serve him as mindlessly as my death eaters serve me. But I have more effective ways of persuasion, don't you agree, Severus? But I digress. What could I have possibly done to you to make you join Dumbledore?"

"My reasons are none of your business. But I know this, Riddle. Dumbledore will win! Good will triumph over evil."

"There is no good or evil, Severus. Only power."

Snape merely hissed, "Expelliarmus!"

Voldemort idly waved his wand, and the curse dissipated. "My, my. Using second-year curses now, are we? Are you the one who taught Harry Potter that one? I believed he used it to great effect at my resurrection. But he's not really a Potter, is he?"

Before Snape could open his mouth to shout another curse, he found himself bound in coiling snakes.

"Yes Severus, I believe you have been keeping some important secrets from me. Wormtail!"

"Y-yes, master, you called?" the rat stuttered pathetically.

"Force some Veritaserum into that fool's mouth."

"Of course, master."

Severus found his mouth being wrenched forcibly open, and burning liquid slid down his throat. Then, he found his mind drift away from his body.

Voldemort immediately began questioning him. "What is your name?"

"Severus Salazar Snape."

"Ah yes, quite a namesake you have. Who are the biological parents of Harry Potter?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle and Lily Evans Potter."

"Who disguised him?"

"Me."

Hearing all he needed to know, Voldemort again called Pettigrew over. "Give him the antidote. I want his mind here when he feels the pain."

Severus registered his surroundings again. O, shit. What had he told the monster?

"Quite some new, Severus. You knew all along that Harry Potter was my son, and yet you gave him to people who would turn him against me? Crucio!"

Suddenly his world was filled with pain. Voldemort shot curse after curse in his direction, with Pettigrew cackling gleefully in the background. Strangely, this scene reminded his of his school days when he was always at the receiving end of the marauders' hexes. Lily had always been there to help him then. The reason he had joined the Order was because of Lily. Knowing that Lily would have been proud of him, he felt that he would die gladly with a clear conscience.

After two hours, Voldemort ordered some death eaters to carry Snape into the dungeons. "After all," he remarked, "we can't have him going insane on us before we have so proper fun, can we?"

 ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Harry Potter woke up gasping for breath. Slowly, the dream came flooding back to him. Although there was no love lost between him and the potions professor, he would not wish that kind of torture on anyone.

Suddenly, he recalled one part of his dream and started. Snape had said that he was Voldemort's son. His son. Was this not another dream that Voldemort had sent to taunt him? But why use Professor Snape, of all people? Surely it was no secret that the professor and he were mutual enemies.

Perhaps, perhaps what Snape said was true. No, that was impossible. He scolded himself for ever think of such a thing. Although he did look an awful like Tom Riddle all of a sudden…

No. He thought mentally, my parents are Lily and James Potter. The changes I'm going through are simply part of puberty.

But whether the dream was true or false, he had to tell Professor Dumbledore. Quickly, he drafted a letter detailing the dream, but added a postscript discretely at the end: Is the dream true?

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Albus Dumbledore was enjoying a package of a new muggle sweet he had just discovered. Although the candy tasted quite good, the headmaster was frowning in worry. Severus Snape had not returned from a death eater meeting last night. He could have been busy with a project, but he always sent an owl to inform Dumbledore of the purpose of the potion, at least.

He looked up in surprise when he saw the distinct snowy owl soar through the window. "Why hello, Hedwig. What's Harry up to now?"

Quickly, he read the letter, which was scribbled in a hurried hand. Dumbledore groaned, his panic escalating every minute. He feared for the safety of his potions master and spy, but he also feared for the future.

They both knew.