"Why?" I asked.
"Harry Potter is related to Voldemort." Dumbledore said quietly. "Through Salazar Slytherin. It is something that has recently come to my attention. See, both are the snakes because they are brothers, of a sort. One is good and one is not. Both Voldemort and Harry are parseltongues. The silver snake will always try to destroy the golden snake, and vice versa. The silver snake begins the battle."
"And the dove chooses the victor." I muttered.
"Yes." Dumbledore's blue eyes bore into mine. "I only wish you didn't have to be so young a dove."
Harry, Hermione, and Ron returned at the end of Christmas break. They had had a decent Christmas. Mine had been all right, just lonely. I had dreaded breaking up with Dean and found it difficult to find the words to do it. I knew that I had to, for his sake, but it wound up being him doing the break-up.
"Favian, I need to tell you something." He looked extremely embarrassed. "I… think I like someone else and it doesn't feel right going out with you anymore."
"That's fine. As long as we can still be friends." I felt somewhat put out as his reason, but I was happy that I hadn't had to break his heart.
He broke into a smile. "Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"You're great, Favian. Really, you are."
I shrugged. "Thanks." If I was great, then you wouldn't have fallen for someone else.
"Where's Harry?" I asked the next evening, as Ron, Hermione and I worked on homework together in the library.
"Occlumency lessons with Snape." Ron explained quietly.
"Occlumency?" I asked.
"Ask him when he gets back."
That wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't passed out at that instant.
"Favian." Tom was there, already grasping my waist firmly.
"Hi." I said quietly. I was too afraid to complain about him making me fall asleep. "How do you do that, anyway?" I asked in a slightly tremulous voice.
"Trade secret."
"Why secret?" I slowly worked his arms away from my waist, but he wasn't letting up.
"I wouldn't want it getting out. Let's just call it a special spell."
"Deal." I started prying his fingers away. "Hey Tom, I'm really hot right now… so…." Actually, I was freezing. I began to quaver.
"There's no use in lying to me. Tell me why you really want to be let go."
"Okay." BECAUSE YOU'RE VOLDEMORT! "Because I feel like we're too physical sometimes and that makes me uncomfortable."
He released me, to my great relief.
"I broke up with Dean." I said quickly, only just looking at Tom in the eye.
I saw a flicker of a smile dart over his face. "Oh, good."
"How far away from me are you?"
"A good distance."
Keep it that way. "I see." I folded my arms and looked away at nothing. We were still surrounded by that odd white void that he seemed to control with his will.
"Have you discovered who the golden snake is?" Tom asked, smiling ironically.
I jolted. "What?"
"Favian, I know that you've figured it out. You're not a moron. Sure you're a bit gullible but I think it's all starting to fit together in your mind."
I took a step back. "Tom…."
"I've left that name behind. Don't bother with it." Voldemort blinked slowly, his eyes turning faintly red.
"Oh God, no." I whispered.
"Who's the golden snake? Is it Dumbledore?"
"No!" I said, tripping over my own feet as I walked backwards. Voldemort advanced.
"Tell me, Favian Fynn, tell me. I so desire this knowledge."
"Never!" I shouted. I turned to run but he was always there, like a bad movie. I screamed, terrified. Now he would hurt me. Now he would practically kill me. He grabbed my wrists in his right hand. I willed my wrists to become huge, but nothing happened.
"It won't hurt you to say a simple name." He enticed.
"Maybe not me, but it will hurt him." I hissed, wriggling my arms.
"Is it Black? Lupin? Or maybe…." He paused to think, "Someone a little nearer to your own age?"
I kept tight-lipped.
"Potter. That's who it is."
"Nope." I said triumphantly. "You are way off, Mr. Riddle."
He slapped me across the face. He had never hit me before. "Don't lie, I see right through it. It is one of those three."
"If you're so sure," I spat at him, "then get rid of me now that you know."
"No, no, no, Favian. Didn't your studies teach you anything? I am coming for you."
"You almost killed me on a plane."
"No. You can't die in an air accident." Voldemort shook his head.
"But I almost drowned." I glared at him.
"That was something that I thought of ahead of time. You see, being a witch saved you. You wouldn't drown either. The elements don't kill magical folks."
I looked away. "Why did you do it? Why did you kill my parents?"
"It was to see if it was you coming or not."
"That's the worst thing I've ever heard. You really are an asshole."
Voldemort only laughed, and then conjured something to throw me down on. A bed.
"If only this counted." He muttered. "But it will be satisfying, none-the-less."
I screamed as he began to tear my clothes. I kicked and….
"Favian! Favian!"
I was still screaming and clawing at nothing. I was breathing heavily and I sat up on my chair to see the entire library staring at me as though I were a lunatic. Madam Pince was hurrying over, face ashen and pinched.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked. Harry had been in the midst of explaining something to Ron and Hermione before I had awoken.
"What is the matter with you?" Madam Pince hissed. "This is a library, not an amusement park!"
"I'm sorry!" I cried. "I'm leaving." I stood quickly, grabbed my stuff and ran out. I felt like I had become narcoleptic and that terrified me. I was sobbing as I fled down the corridor.
"Oh Fynn, what are you crying about?"
I swore very nastily at the Slytherin team, who were watching me running.
"Language, Fynn." Montague clicked his tongue. "What would you do if a teacher overheard?" Montague had grabbed my shoulder. I was in no mood to put up with him, so I slugged him in the stomach. His abs were as hard as rock but it had the effect that I desired: he doubled over wheezing.
I ran all the way back to the Common Room and heard footsteps behind me. I found Hermione, Harry and Ron had chased me all the way back. I continued to cry my hardest and I collapsed in the middle of the hallway. Hermione crouched down and hugged me. I hugged her back, wishing that my mother was there to hug me. That my father was there to tell me that everything would be all right. Instead I had Hermione there, to console me and to ask me what had happened.
Ron and Harry looked on, not sure what to do.
"He knows… he knows…."
"Who knows what?" Ron asked bluntly.
"Voldemort knows that I know that he's Tom. And he can make me fall asleep!" I choked.
"Since when?" Hermione asked.
"Since the holidays."
"You should tell…."
"Dumbledore knows." I whimpered. "And he doesn't know what to do."
Hermione became very grim at these words.
"Let's go to the room of requirement." Hermione said. "So we can discuss this in private."
I nodded numbly and allowed her to push me there.
The room of requirement was filled with tissues and cushy chairs. Hermione sat me down in one and took another. Ron and Harry looked tentative as they took their seats.
Harry explained all about his Occlumency lessons and why he needed them.
"I keep getting… feelings from Voldemort. And he can read my mind." Suddenly, Harry fell over and started laughing insanely. I crouched next to him on the floor and called out his name. Ron and Hermione shook him and he stopped. "Voldemort… Voldemort's really happy." Harry gasped. He looked nauseous.
"Maybe you should go to bed." I offered.
"No. I've got to hear what's happened to you." Harry said fervently.
"Harry, you're in danger." I muttered.
"What's new?" Harry grinned weakly.
I sighed. "I had this one dream, the night that Voldemort attacked Mr. Weasley. Tom… well, you know, he was there, he told me to wait and while I was waiting, I dreamed about a silver snake and a golden snake. I was a dove and they were both coming towards me, trying to get me to join them. They both needed me to succeed. Quickly, anyway." I paused for breath and thought. "Voldemort is the silver snake." I said. "Tonight he wanted to know who the golden snake was; I wouldn't tell him so he attacked me. He started to…" I faltered, "He started to… take advantage of me." I finished lamely. "I was screaming and kicking because of that." I brightened suddenly. "The good news is: that doesn't actually do anything. I mean, it might hurt and all, but at least it's all mental."
"Favian, that bite on your neck wasn't mental." Hermione said.
"Have you ever heard of mental stuff becoming physical? If I believe enough that I'm hurting, I will start to hurt and vice versa."
Hermione thought about this.
"Who's the golden snake?" Ron burst. "Or do you know?"
I shrugged.
"You know, don't you?" Harry said suddenly. "You said that you wouldn't tell Voldemort, but you didn't say that you didn't know."
"It's not a big deal." I changed the subject. "Look, I'm really tired and we'll get in trouble if we're caught."
"Okay." Harry realized that I wasn't up to talking, and he obviously still felt ill.
Once we were in our room, Hermione whispered to me: "It's Harry, isn't it?"
After the ten Death Eaters had escaped from prison, the mood of the entire castle had changed. My dreams improved, for lack of Voldemort, who must have been busy. People were beginning to ponder Harry and Dumbledore's explanation of Voldemort returning. I had had no idea how little people had believed them. It drove Umbridge nuts to see people discussing Ministry failures so she spat out yet another decree.
"Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach."
Good job Umbridge.
Both Hagrid and Trelawney, the Divination teacher, were on probation apparently. I learned that Umbridge was making Hagrid goof up during lessons. I wanted to kick that woman as hard as I could. Instead, I began to attend Hagrid's lessons more regularly just to express extreme interest in his subject. It actually made Umbridge a little annoyed.
"Why don't you always come to these lessons, Ms. Fynn?" She asked me, one morning.
"This isn't a class of mine, Professor; I come out of unadulterated interest. It's my free period, after all." I shot her a phony smile. I wanted it to be as obviously false as possible. She pursed her froggy lips irritably but said nothing, completely powerless over a fake smile.
Quidditch practice was fun, cold, but certainly fun. They exhausted me, and by evening I had no time to think about miserable topics such as my problems. The D.A. meetings were brilliant and gave everyone a sense of power against the old toad that called herself High Inquisitor.
Homework became excessive and I found it difficult to sway myself to attend Hagrid's lessons during my free period. I did it only because I knew that it drove Umbridge to the edge. It also merited a crinkly smile from Hagrid. I spent late nights completing what I could and sometimes would completely skip lunch to get it done.
The fourteenth of February rolled around. Everyone was greatly excited for a Hogsmeade trip. I couldn't have cared less. I thought it was a lovely excuse to get some homework done while everyone was away. To my surprise, Angelina wanted a full-day's practice for Quidditch, which meant I would have to do my Potions essay later.
I sighed as I headed out to the Quidditch pitch with Ron and Andrew. I had borrowed a broomstick from the school supply and called it my own. It wasn't great, but it got me where I needed to go. They called it a Shooting Star, but it was more like a rolling rock. I felt sluggish next to the rest of the team, zooming around on their wonderful brooms.
"Ready? Let's play then!" Angelina called. The Bludgers whirred around. I slugged one hard at the other end of the pitch. My arms were always sore after a good practice. I was beginning to get biceps worth flexing.
"Kirke!" I called. "Check this out. Woo!" I spun under my broom and came back up again. "Pretty hot, huh?"
"Oh yeah, Fynn." Andrew winked, and he slammed a Bludger away from Katie.
I laughed and chased the other Bludger, slamming it away. My heart skipped a beat.
Darkness.
"Oh crap." I said quietly.
"Favian, let's finish what we didn't finish last time."
"You've just killed me. I'm about to die. Good job, Voldey." I jolted as I slammed into the ground. "Ah, can you hear the sound of my soul floating away?"
"You're just unconscious. That means we have a good deal of time together." Voldemort smiled. "Let me see what's happening, shall I?" He disappeared, and I was alone. Then he came back. "They're taking you to the infirmary. Looks like they're quite worried."
"Woo." I muttered sarcastically. "So, what's up with you? Now that you've got so much free time… I guess you have your little minions off on some dirty deed." I sat on the floor and crossed my legs lazily, hoping to invoke annoyance in him.
"Actually, yes. That's exactly why I have so much free time." I wasn't surprised that he had managed to take a seat next to me without moving. We were now on a seat of some sort. Or just a big, squishy rectangle. Ah, a bed. I stood and moved away.
"Look, I don't think this is going to work out between us." I shrugged. "I'm fifteen, you're fifty, you're bent on ruling the world, and I'm not very ambitious, you have a thing against muggles and I happen to find a good deal of them very attractive."
"They say opposites attract." He said bemusedly.
"They say wrong. You've just got to have something in common." I hastily added, "And more than one thing."
"If you insist." He grabbed my neck from behind and pulled me back down next to him.
"And all this physical stuff, it's just got to go. Doesn't it gross you out to be molesting a teenager?" I didn't know why I wasn't terrified like usual. Maybe it was because I believed I was going to die anyway.
"I'm just getting you ready."
"Oh?" I tried to scoot away, but he had taken my wrists in his hand again.
"Soon. Soon this will be real."
"Hahaha, no." I looked down and noticed that he had tied my wrists together. "Clever." I winked and started to roll off the bed. He had straddled me and started working at my blouse's buttons. "Hey, where do I get these clothes, anyway?" I tried to distract him. "I mean, I don't have any white blouses anymore, so where does this beast come from? And these white pants? What's with all the white? You got a thing for it? It's a good color, though, it's not technically a color. You're going to have to untie my hands if you want to get that off."
"Says who?"
"Says me, dip head." I rolled my eyes. My shirt disappeared. "Look, if you can just make my clothes vanish, what's the point of all of this?"
"I have a long time with you."
"No you don't. Madam Pomfrey will free me from your spell." I wriggled underneath him, but he smiled at that. Ew. "Any moment now. Hey, that's my bra. I'll be needing that." I felt myself turning red with shame as he unclothed me further. I writhed insanely, not caring if it were real or not. I managed to roll over onto my stomach, but Tom…Voldemort stayed on top. "Get the hell off me!" I shouted. He pressed his mouth against my shoulder and then whispered into my ear.
"Who is the golden snake?"
"On that tangent again, are we?"
He licked my ear. "Who is the golden snake?"
"Your mom."
He shook his head and brought his finger slowly down my spine. I shivered as he stopped right above my buttocks. "Who is the golden snake?"
"I don't know, okay? Dumbledore wouldn't tell me." I lied.
He managed to get my hands above my head, tied to what would've been the headboard. He unbuttoned my pants slowly. "Who is the golden snake?"
"Look, if I tell you, do you promise to let me wake up and leave my dreams forever?" I figured that Harry couldn't get into more danger anyway. He was already branded as the Boy Who Lived.
"Forever?"
"Yeah. Or at least stop making me fall asleep." I pleaded as his fingers brushed my underwear.
"Deal." He pulled my pants off.
"Will you stop stripping me?"
"Perhaps when I've learned his name."
"It's Harry Potter, okay?"
He started fiddling with my panties. He didn't respond.
"Harry Potter!" I repeated.
He slowly pulled them down.
"HARRY POTTER!" I shouted. I shut up the minute I looked around me and realized that the Quidditch team, dripping wet, were surrounding my hospital bed. "I have got to stop shouting in my dreams." I muttered. "Ah!" My body was so sore that when I tried to sit up, I cried out in pain.
"Lay down, Ms. Fynn!" Madam Pomfrey bustled over. The team was sitting around me, looking worried.
"Why'd you fall off of your broom?" Andrew asked.
"I fell asleep." I threw a meaningful look at Ron.
"Were you dreaming about snakes again?" Ron asked, catching on.
"Yeah. Harry was there, he promised to make them stop biting me. He was all gold though." I finally admitted to Ron.
"Harry-." Ron shut up. "Haha, he'll find that amusing." Ron forced laughter, his lips turning white.
"All of you, out."
"Madam Pomfrey," Angelina asked quickly, "will she be okay to play tomorrow?"
"Judging these injuries she's sustained? Certainly not! I want her in this room all night and tomorrow she can leave." Madam Pomfrey huffed.
"But-."
"No buts! Out! Out!"
The next day I felt even worse than I had after sustaining the injuries. I had spent my entire dream being chased by Voldemort. I wouldn't allow him this time to get a hold of me. So I ran, and ran, and tripped and he was very amused by the whole thing. Madam Pomfrey told me that I had a fever and would have a potion made immediately. I wouldn't sleep, though Madam Pomfrey insisted that I should. She brought the potion to me and after I took it, I was knocked out. I suppose it was lucky that Tom must have been busy.
"We were slaughtered." Angelina's voice broke as she gave me the news. Kirke isn't nearly as good as you are and…. I think I'm going to bed. I wanted to see that you were all right."
"I'm better." I said feebly, sitting in the Common Room. It had taken a battle of wills between Pomfrey and myself to get me out of there. I felt distinctly shaky and every time someone even brushed against me I shuddered.
Harry must have known because he wouldn't even look me in the eye. Every time he was looking over at me and I looked back, he would blush and look away quickly. It was a miserable evening ended by me finally sleeping, but at least Voldemort wasn't there.
"What's this?" I whispered to Hermione. "The Quibbler? I thought you said…."
"Harry was interviewed!" She said excitedly.
"Look at all this mail!" Ron cried.
"Fan mail." Luna Lovegood wandered over dreamily and sat between Ron and Fred. "It's good, isn't it?"
"These are letters from…?"
"Readers." Luna blinked her large eyes slowly.
"That's what I thought," said Hermione eagerly, "Harry, d'you mind if we-?"
"Help yourself," said Harry, looking slightly bemused.
We began ripping open envelopes.
"This one's from a bloke who thinks you're off your rocker," said Ron, glancing down at his letter. "Ah well…."
"This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St. Mungo's," said Hermione, looking disappointed and crumpling up a second.
"This one looks okay… hey! She believes me!" Harry was ecstatic.
"This one's in two minds," said Fred, "Gee, what a waste of parchment."
"Here's another you've convinced, Harry!" Hermione squealed.
"Another one who thinks you're barking," said Ron, "but this one says you've got her converted, and now she thinks you're a real hero- she's put in a photograph too… wow…."
"This one says he's always known that the Ministry was full of frauds." I added after scanning my letter.
"What is going on here?" Said a falsely sweet, girlish voice.
We all turned to face her. My emotions swam with a mixture of triumph and worry.
Boo-yah.
"Why have you got all these letters, Mr. Potter?" She asked slowly.
"Is that a crime now?" said Fred loudly. "Getting mail?"
"Be careful, Mr. Weasley, or I shall have to put you in detention," said Umbridge. "Well, Mr. Potter?"
It ended in Harry getting another week's worth of detention and fifty points from Gryffindor. Harry's grin didn't even waver. Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven was the dumbest thing that Umbridge had ever done: it told everyone to read the Quibbler. Not directly, of course, but by prohibiting it, everyone wanted to know.
Stupid Umbridge.
After the celebration in Gryffindor over Harry's triumph, I headed to bed, a little wary of what might come. It was Harry that had the disturbing dream, as Hermione informed me later on. I was too mortified to talk to Harry anymore, and that made me feel bad.
"What do you expect, Favian? How do you feel knowing that… that…."
"Yeah. I know; you don't have to say it." I mumbled. "I wish someone would just…ugh."
"Tell you what to do?"
"That would be a nice start, but I was thinking shoot me."
Hermione shook her head. "Harry's not talking to me right now, so it'll be okay if I hang about with you, I think."
"Oh, thanks for the warm fuzzy reason." I said sarcastically.
I had the worst Defense lesson ever that week. Professor Umbridge was hovering over me, practically breathing down my neck for the entire lesson, and what was worse, she asked me to stay after.
"Ms. Fynn, it has come to my attention that despite former detention you have still been involved in promiscuous behavior." Umbridge said sweetly.
"Oh." I didn't know what to say. It wasn't true, of course, but no matter what I said it wouldn't matter. "Can I bring something else to your attention?" I asked dully. Then added, "Ma'am?"
"Perhaps." Umbridge pursed her frog-like lips.
"It's not true. I don't expect you to believe me, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to give you the truth." I shrugged.
"There have been too many accounts from various boys of your tendencies."
I laughed but caught myself by covering my mouth. I still felt ill and was having trouble restraining my emotions lately. Then I fell into helpless giggles and even snorted. Umbridge's eyes bulged at me.
"Stop this foolish laughing at once!"
"I… I… I… c-c-can't!" I breathed slowly a few times. "Okay, all better." I bit my lip, resigned to a fate that I knew was about to come.
"Do you still deny any such activities?" Umbridge asked sniffily.
"Yeah. Look, you can ask any Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw and they'll tell you that I'm not like that." I shrugged for the umpteenth time. "But I doubt you will as you're prejudiced towards Slytherins." Before Umbridge could speak again, I changed tact. "Look, I've been having a rather crappy week. I'm really sorry. It's just my emotions wreaking havoc on innocent bystanders," though you're certainly not one, "and… I just need a good cry. Will you excuse me?" I ran out of the room before she could do anything.