SERPENTINE
By Yih

Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine, and I do apologize for them.

And I sincerely offer my deepest apologies to J.K. Rowling for using exact quotes from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, but there is no better way to put the quotes than the way she did them.

Chapter One
The Boy is Slytherin

HE HAD FORGOTTEN that he was not a Malfoy again. Harry stood staring impassively at the mirror that reflected back his bony body, black hair, and green eyes. Lucius had told him he was a striking resemblance to the younger version of his father, Tom Marvolo Riddle. It was an unpleasant reminder to Narcissa of the wizard that had taken her beloved sister away and nearly her husband. The bitch hated him.

Little did she know, did she? That his father, who she disparaged daily, was very much alive and was all too willing to end her existence if Lucius hadn't prevented it. What Lucius saw in the vapid bitch, Harry did not understand. He was fond of his foster father, fond enough of his foster father to pretend politeness to the bitch when she dripped of venom for him. Did she think her clever guise hid the hatred in her eyes? Think again bitch.

"Are you ready, Harry?" Lucius called, his voice didn't have any warmth in it. Harry didn't expect that from his foster father. Lucius was the typical Malfoy, born and bred to be as cold and as elegant as was wizardly possible. It was simply not in a Malfoy to be warm or kind or friendly. It was in them to be icy, haughty, and arrogant. Those were characteristic traits that Harry was pleased to say, he had picked up with an ease as if he had really been born a Malfoy instead of being merely raised as one.

"In a minute, Lucius,"

"Draco and Narcissa are waiting," Lucius responded with a slight impatience that Harry knew Lucius was allowing him to hear. No Malfoy deliberately let emotion slip into their voices unless they wanted it to. Harry had learned that lesson too well, everything was about manipulation. If you couldn't manipulate yourself, how could you hope to manipulate others?

"Let them wait."

"Harry," Lucius began, coming up behind his foster son, his eyes showing a hint of fondness that always accompanied him when he was staring down at the lovely young boy, "you cannot be late." This was the son he would have been proud to call his own, though Draco was a more than adequate heir. "The train won't wait."

"One final touch," Harry murmured, glancing at the mirror as he whispered the complicated glamour charm that would let him successfully pose as a true Malfoy born. "Do I look all right, father?"

It was amazing how talented his Lord's son was, Lucius thought with pride and admiration. Brushing aside the blond hair that was the exact shade of Malfoy blond that had been acquire by careful blood breeding, he considered the scar that misshaped his pretend son. Harry had even managed to change his brilliant green eyes to a deep blue that might be attributed to Narcissa's family. "The scar cannot be helped, can it?"

"No," Harry responded tersely, "unfortunately."

"Harry Malfoy," Lucius murmured, "my son."

Harry smiled at his perfect Malfoy reflection; he looked almost like a miniature Lucius and a beautiful mimic of Draco with blue instead of gray eyes. His glamour was faultless, and was at least as well done as Lucius's despite his age. While it was possible for Lucius to maintain his glamour while he was at Hogwarts, it would be hard to maintain that kind of magic transfer that would be required with the wards that school had surrounding it. No, it was better and safer if he maintained his own illusion.

"Lucius Malfoy," Harry whispered, "my father."

-

DRACO DIDN'T KNOW whether he ought to hate Harry or not. Despite the fact that Harry seemed to despise his mum, whom he dearly loved, Draco couldn't hate him for that. Harry was his brother, after all. It was clear to Draco's perceptive eyes that his mum encouraged and reciprocated the hatred. No, the only reason that Draco had for hating Harry was that Harry had his father wrapped around his finger the way Draco dreamed of.

But watching his father and Harry exchange a look of good-bye that was only between the two of them incited his inner jealousy. He knew better than to show any emotion. Of the two of them, it irked him that Harry was better at keeping the Malfoy composure than he was. He wasn't even born a Malfoy and yet he pulled off any Malfoy mannerisms with the grace of a true Malfoy. It was mildly infuriating and completely unfair.

Gritting his teeth together, he gave his mum a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. She studied him with a cold detachment, but he saw the warm and concern lurking underneath the frigid gaze. His mother was better at hiding her feelings than he was, but she wasn't up to Lucius's or Harry's emotional aloofness. It comforted him to know that his mum cared for him dearly. It was almost enough to erase the bitterness he felt toward his father for ignoring him.

"Good-bye mother," he told her with polite disregard. "I will owl you."

"I expect you to," Narcissa responded with equal carelessness. "If you need anything, all you have to do is ask for it. I will see you when the holidays arrive. Good-bye, Draco."

Draco inwardly grimaced as he watched his mum turned to Harry and her features turned at least ten times more glacier. While he might feel less than friendly feelings to his younger brother at times, he still felt it was wrong for his mum to feel such strong hatred for his own flesh and blood. He didn't understand it, and whenever he tried to ask why it was so, he would be given a look that said it was better if he did not ask.

"You will listen to Draco," Narcissa declared coldly. "Do not disgrace the Malfoy name, Harry. If you do…"

"That's enough Narcissa," Lucius snapped with irritation. How were they supposed to keep up the façade that Harry was their son when Narcissa showed such open animosity against the boy? It wasn't the boy's fault that Bellatrix had been carted off to Azkaban, and it certainly wasn't the boy's fault that he was a Death Eater either. As it was, he suspected that Draco knew something was dreadfully wrong and the source of it was Harry. "Harry," he murmured, his voice almost kind, "we will see you at Christmas."

Harry nodded. "Good day, father, and," he turned to Narcissa and almost smirked because he knew and she knew that she was definitely not his mother, "mother."

-

THEY WERE SITTING across from each other with identical looks of bored indifference when a chubby and flustered boy around their age slid open the door to their compartment and asked sheepishly, "Would you have happened to see my toad anywhere?"

Draco was sneering, and Harry felt it prudent to step in by saying first, "No, we have not. Do you know where you lost your toad?"

The boy with a curious scar on his cheek, who looked like he had been about to cow in the corner when he had seen the expression on Draco's face seemed to be immensely relieved when he heard Harry's kind inquiry. "No," he admitted, "I don't."

"Neville…" the boy stuck his head out of the compartment and when his head reappeared, a bushy head girl was standing next to him. "I still can't seem to find your toad," she informed him in a brisk businesslike tone. "I'm Hermione Granger," she introduced, "and you are?"

Harry was amused. "Harry Malfoy," he answered and tilting his head to his older brother, "and the boy behind me is my older brother, Draco Malfoy."

"A pleasure and this is Neville Longbottom," she replied, gesturing to the shy boy next to her. It was when he said his entire name that it dawned on Harry why the scar looked so familiar. So this was the boy that had supposedly survived the Killing Curse. It was odd how similar it looked to the very same scar that marked his forehead that he carefully hid beneath his bangs.

"The Boy Who Lived," Draco muttered, his eyes gazing disdainfully at Neville.

Whatever more Draco might have said was smothered by a warning look that Harry sent his older brother. It wouldn't do to get on the bad side of a person that had survived the most unforgivable of Unforgivable as a mere babe. It struck Harry as ironic that Draco, who didn't have a smidgen of Gryffindor blood in him was more impulsive than he, who had the blood a mudblood Gryffindor running through his veins.

Tilting her head, Hermione's eyes flitted between the two of them. "Are you twins? You must be fraternal because you two don't look exactly the same."

"Excellent deduction," Draco mocked. "If you'd please leave our compartment, my brother and I would like to continue the discussion that you interrupted."

"What discussion?" Hermione inquired, curiously. "Is it about magic?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "What else?"

"I've already read all the spell books for first years," she informed him. "You are a first year, aren't you? Then are you discussing the magic that we're going to learn this year? I was thinking that there might be a spell, but I don't remember all of them, that we might be able to use to find Neville's toad."

"There is nothing in the first year books that would help us locate Neville's toad," Draco stated haughtily. "If you must know, there is a charm that would help retrieve his toad, but it is only taught to upper level students."

"Even though you know about it, if it's only taught to upper level students, I guess," she retorted, "you wouldn't know how to cast it would you?"

Draco flushed at her challenge and he withdrew his wand determinedly. Why was Draco letting a bushy hair know-it-all incite emotions that no Malfoy should feel? Harry jerked Draco's wand from his brother's hand and said instead, "My brother knows many things, but unfortunately you are right. He doesn't know upper level charms. I think the best way to find your toad would be to go ask one of the prefects if they could help you. They should know the charm that Draco mentioned."

Hermione smirked and nodded, dragging a helpless Neville with her to go find a prefect. "Thank you," she called back to him. "I don't know why I didn't think of that!"

"Why," Draco snapped when they had left, "did you prevent me from casting a charm you know perfectly well I know how to bloody cast?"

"Because," Harry responded coolly, "you lost control of your emotions, and it is hardly a Slytherin thing to go showing everyone how much more we know than they do. Slytherins are sly and cunning, and as such, they don't go showing all that they know when they shouldn't know it. Should they?"

Draco glared at his younger brother because he could, but his fury was abated. Harry was right. It was most un-Slytherin of him do try to show up all that they knew when they really shouldn't know it. But it wasn't like their father was going to let them come to Hogwarts unprepared, was he? No, they had been taught all the basics and a good deal more. Draco was proud of how good he was at Charms, though, he thought glumly it was nothing compared to what Harry could do. It was his rotten luck, that Harry was better than him at everything.

"That girl," Draco sneered, "was impossible."

Harry shrugged. "I found her amusing."

"You would."

-

DRACO AND HARRY had never seen eye to eye on many things, despite the fact that they had been raised in identical fashion even if they weren't identical twins. There were some differences though, Draco was Narcissa's favorite while Harry was Lucius's. Also there was the fact that one of them had to be older and Draco was proud of the fact that he was the elder of the two. As the older brother, he felt a vague sense of fear that even though Harry was very much a Malfoy, he also could act very un-Malfoy-like as his mum was always saying.

What Draco feared was that Harry would end up in a different house. Hufflepuff was impossible and Gryffindor was ludicrous, but Ravenclaw for his bookish younger brother was a very high possibility. There was nothing more that Harry liked to do than to spend time, to Draco's immense disgust, holed up in the immense library that Malfoy Mansion boasted of. Draco preferred to go out and about much like his mother and his brother's tendencies toward slinking in the shadows annoyed him.

However, Harry was Draco's brother and even though they didn't spend as much time as they should have as brothers, Draco didn't like the idea of his brother being in any house but Slytherin. If that were to happen, mum already didn't like Harry and to be sorted into a different house than the house both their parents had been in would be disaster. Of course, Draco thought resentfully, Lucius would still think Harry was perfect even if he were sorted into Ravenclaw. Draco would be the imperfect one.

"Harry," Draco snapped, "what are you doing?" His brother was bending over, picking something up and before he could digest what it was, the stupid pudgy boy from earlier was rushing toward them.

"Trevor!" Neville exclaimed. "Thank you ever so much, Harry! How ever did you find it?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly and handed the toad over to Neville. "It was on the ground."

Before Neville might thank Harry any more profusely, Draco's hand closed around Harry's and he jerked his brother to his side just as Professor McGonagall descended upon them with her beady eyes. "Welcome to Hogwarts. I trust that you had a good trip here and that you are ready for the start-of-term banquet. If you do not know, before you can start Hogwarts as a student you must be sorted into a house. The four houses are…"

Draco had heard all of this before and even if he hadn't, all he had to do was to ask Harry and Harry could recite word perfect information about each of the four houses as quoted directly from Hogwarts, A History. Mindlessly, he tuned her out until she finally began to lead them into the Great Hall. Once they were inside, Draco stared up with slight appreciation for the ceiling that was charmed to look like the sky. Next to him, he could sense more than see his younger brother's awe.

Glancing icily at Harry's detached feature, he could see nothing that would indicate that Harry found the sight impressive but he knew that his brother did. It must have been their bond as twins, Draco reflected solemnly. For twins, they were not very close at all. Draco had spent far more time with his mum than Harry, who had often been sequestered off to study the magic books that seemed to impress their father more than anything else did. At moments, it puzzled Draco and at other times, he regretted it.

At the center of the room Professor McGonagall placed an old, dusty and worn looking hat that appeared on its last thread on a stool. Draco could hear the mudbloods, correction muggleborns, whispering amongst themselves what that thing might be. That thing was the sorting hat and Draco predicted that whatever song it was going to sing was going to be dreadfully similar to sorting songs of past. It was a pity he wasn't wrong:

"Oh, you may not think that I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find,
A smarter hat than me…"

-

THE HOLD ON his hand was close to the point of pain. He was used to Draco's possessiveness. He had watched his foster brother cling to Narcissa with the spoiled arms of a favored child. Why in the world Draco was clinging to him now was a mystery. It wasn't like he and Draco had ever been that close. They supposedly brothers, twins, but they had scarcely seen each other except when it was unavoidable like at meals and at outings. Other than that… they had never spent any of their free time together.

Harry had preferred not to. It wasn't like he was ever truly alone. When Lucius wasn't there overseeing his studies as his Lord's heir, his books kept him company. On the rare occasion that his father actually visited him, well, Harry was only too happy to let Voldemort pick his brain to see if the spawn of his seed was worthy of being a blood Slytherin. No matter what his father asked of him, he would do.

I have a task for you, said the floated letters that formed his father's thoughts. Lucius knows. Of course, Lucius was Voldemort's right hand man. The details will be sent to you later. This was a test then. Do not fail. He wouldn't.

The song had ended. Professor McGonagall was unrolling a long parchment as she announced, "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbot, Hannah!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Longbottom, Neville!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry felt the scorn seeping from Draco. Again, where had the trademark Malfoy cold indifference gone? Their mother would be disappointed and Lucius would be coldly disapproving. Draco truly couldn't pull off the Malfoy façade as well as he would like to be. It was a pity because Draco was a true Malfoy.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

He watched the boy that looked nearly the same as he did now. The expression on Draco's face was bored and expressionless. It was truly a look that his foster family cultivated to the extreme. His father had said there was much to learn from the Malfoys, and he had to admit that to learn to mask your feelings could come in very handy when your opponent could not.

No sooner had the hat been slipped onto Draco's head when the hat was yelling, "SLYTHERIN!"

A slight smirk graced Draco's smile. It was expected. Malfoys were always Slytherins. And he would be no different.

"Malfoy, Harry!"

He stepped up and sat down. The hat was placed onto him and Look at what we have here. You are not really a Malfoy. His shoulders tensed up; the book had not told him that the hat would know such things. Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. Who listens to a hat? He relaxed his body, but his mind was still not at ease. Where would he be sorted?

You are truly complex, the hat decided. You've got the mind of a Ravenclaw, the determination of a Gryffindor, and the ambition of a Slytherin. You'd fit anywhere and yet… there's only one place for you… "SLYTHERIN!"

-

Author's Note: Thanks for all the wonderful feedback. I'm currently working on chapter 3, and chapter 2 is in final draft mode. I rewrote two scenes of chapter 1, and only after I had chapter 2 in final draft form was I comfortable with releasing this. I am wondering what you think of Harry's characterizations as well as Lucius, Draco, and Voldemort's. I am also curious how you like the way I've portrayed Neville, though I do think I need to have him show a bit more spine, eh? Commentary on Hermione and Ron would also be appreciated. Your feedback means a lot and it means this story continuing. Thank you.

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To all that made this chapter possible: The angelic vampire, bakachan17, Sierra, Kage Mirai, No Wood is not a stick, Al, LYK29, DarkKeeper, Gen (Voldemort marked Neville by controlling his grandmother, and that's all I'll say on that for now.), Tracy Mintzmyer (I like being the exception), Minathia, Eaiva le Fay (No, it does not. Though that is an interesting take. The prophecy deals with Voldemort and one of the boys, or both?), Sigma, Dreamer-3041, Witchy-Althea, Ruth (I write Fallen, but it won't be similar to Fallen), SheWolfe7, mishap, TigerBlak (Harry is not snobby nor is he light though I wouldn't say he's truly dark, at least not yet), PeachDancer82, JaninaQ, henriette, Draconisdagger2000, Mayhem El-Diablo, lighted eagle, Lasitar, Jade Malame, Dokuhebi, Menecarkawan, Cayden, Xyverz (read the entire thing again and carefully, and don't try to make assumptions and it should all be clear.), Danigirl, ProudSlytherin, riantlykalopsic, Cyn Wraith, Cynicalkarma626 (no), Eccentric75885, BlackDiva, watersreflection (yes it's HP/DM and you are right, I haven't written a long HP/DM, though LILT is one of the stories I'm most proud of), Nafaerala, zina (I assume if you don't review, you don't like the story enough), Cmon, ura, Mrs Tom Riddle, Mordicai (Neville's grandmother is not the dark lord, she was under imperius), PxW, Silverfated, Shadowface, Winnie2, Nefertare (I realized after your review, I didn't really do a scene on it, but I did explain it. Look at the scene again more carefully. I inserted one sentence that explains it), KAT15, HecateDeMort, marshiamarish, ibcna, and Dewi.

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The next chapter features… McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick. Oh joy!