AN: THANK YOU, SECTUMUS PRINCE (read their work!)! I'm disappointed in the reviewers, I had Voldemort drop a bag of cocaine on three teenagers, and most of what I heard was about how the writing quality went down on a story that began with me robbing Vernon Dursley of his wallet.

As I said, Harry tried learning Occlumency but it stressed him out to the point he nearly killed himself and Snape.

Voldemort doesn't want Harry dead. I have no f-ing idea why so many people want low stakes, a weak villain, and a godmoded hero. I never advised this as a fluff fic, but this is nowhere near the seriousness or darkness of What We Lost.

Chapter 14 - Helpless or Legless

BOY-WHO-LIVED MURDERED DURING THE FINAL TASK OF THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named invaded the Hogwarts ground, previously believed to be the only safe harbour from You-Know-Who and his followers, the Death Eaters, and murdered Hogwarts' Triwizard Champion, Harry James Potter. The tragedy of Harry Potter's death can never be overstated. A national treasure who was taken from the world far too young. It wasn't the tournament that ended Mr. Potter's life, but the monster who orphaned him on the 31st of October 1981.

Now our world mourns as Harry Potter joins his parents, James Potter and Lily Potter, in the next life. May he find peace where he did not find it in this life. (See Memorial Service pg. 3)

The loss of the Boy-Who-Lived marks a dark turn for our nation, descending further into the Second War. Once more, You-Know-Who leads another attack with no casualties of new Death Eaters. In fact, none have even been identified.

It is difficult in these times to not think that hope has died with Harry Potter. But united in the Boy-Who-Lived's memory, we will stand tall against the darkness. (See State of Emergency pg. 2).

"He isn't dead," Fleur said. Both she and Viktor had been hospitalized by a muggle drug that had dropped down on them in a fine powder.

The detox of the poison hadn't been fun, and Fleur was horrified that such a drug even existed.

Snape frowned, "We found his body."

"You found Crouch's son's body too," she argued.

Snape sighed, "Crouch Jr.'s soul was housed in a rotting body. If that is what happened to Potter, then he is as good as dead."

"He wouldn't risk that," Fleur argued. "We know he knows that if and when Harry dies, he will too."

"What if he made Harry into a Horcrux?" Hermione asked.

Fleur shuddered and Minerva pressed a hand to her forehead.

"I will continue to search for any word of him," Snape said, "but we can no longer count on Harry."

"Using his first name, Severus?" Headmaster Dumbledore asked, walking into the room with Madame Pomphrey, Flitwick, Fred, and George.

Minerva exchanged a glance with Snape, but it was Viktor who said, "We need to tell him."

"Tell me what?" Dumbledore asked, his voice pleasant, but his eyes were hard.

Minerva took in a sharp breath and let it out slowly before beginning, "Harry and the Dark Lord time travelled."

Dumbledore was quiet through Minerva's summary, supplemented by Snape and Hermione. When they had finished, he asked quietly, "And you waited to tell me this until now. Why?"

"Do you want the short list or the long one?" Fleur drawled with a Professor Snape impression she and Harry had cultivated over the last semester.

Harry had never been so cold. Not even that time the Dursleys made him sleep out in the rain when he got a perfect score on his history test.

Dudley had literally only answered two questions correctly, then somehow managed to successfully blame Harry for stealing his test and replacing his name.

The mental gymnastics of that had been too much, even for his nine-year-old self, and he had snorted in disbelief.

Which had resulted in him being hungry, and cold, and afraid of any sound that stirred in the yard.

It was worse now, knowing who held him captive, being trapped back inside the walls of Malfoy Manor, where Hermione had been tortured.

Harry curled around himself, trying to think of anything but his dismal thoughts and how cold he was.

He was unsuccessful, and since he was curled into a tight ball, he didn't notice the rasp of scales against the stone floor until she had him surrounded.

Harry didn't have the energy to move as the giant snake coiled about him.

He hoped she ate him.

Instead, Nagini rested her head over him. He had never seen snakes as particularly warm animals. However, with her body shielding his, the cold abated enough for him to finally find sleep.

Harry tilted his head from side to side, trying to get a better look at himself. His vision had been altered and he was still trying to wrap his head around the blind spot between his eyes.

Harry stretched his muscles to 'stand' tall. Then flicked his tongue.

The array of smells were mind-boggling. He could taste where the smells were, depending on which side of his tongue he tasted them on. He didn't exactly have a nose, either. Rather, he had heat vents of a sort that let him identify where heat sources came from, presumably for the purpose of hunting mammals.

His belly was white, and the scales along his back were dark brown in saddle patches.

He was fucking adorable.

After facing a basilisk, Harry felt he really shouldn't still love snakes as much as he did. But it was a fact: snakes were cute, and he was now a ball python. A little, tiny ball python, and he was undeniably one of the cutest things ever.

He flicked his tongue again.

He wasn't happy to be trapped in this form, but he realized that, if he ever became an animagus, this is the form he would want.

He felt the vibrations before footsteps came into the room.

Draco halted suddenly upon seeing Harry. The look of horror on the blonde's face was endlessly amusing to him.

Some Slytherins the Malfoys turned out to be, afraid of snakes. By golly, what was the world coming to?

But then, Draco didn't know it was Harry. He just knew that the ball python belonged to Lord Voldemort, was trapped in the Manor, and that anyone who hurt the snake would die a long, painful death.

Harry knew, too, that not even a house-elf could get past the wards Voldemort had erected. With Nagini and the Malfoys as Harry's wardens, he wasn't going anywhere.

Draco looked between Harry and the standing mirror that Harry had been using to appraise himself in. Comically, Draco walked wide around Harry to his draws to get something.

Because Harry legitimately had nothing better to do, he followed Draco, who, despite appearing and tasting of so much fear, didn't so much as glance back in Harry's direction as he slithered across the thick carpet.

Draco apparently kept a collection of papers in his bottom draw, despite the fact that the rich bastard had his own office attached to his bedroom. Draco was wearing a thick overcoat because the season was unseasonably freezing.

Okay, maybe it was just a cool summer, but to Harry's newly cold-blooded tiny self, it was ball-breaking cold.

Course now, Harry's little fellows were internal, which, to his mind, was a superior adaptation.

When Draco stood up, he didn't notice that Harry managed to hop a ride in his velvet-lined pocket.

Draco turned and began to walk away, then came to an abrupt stop. "Snake?"

Harry flicked his tongue in amusement.

"Snake?" Draco called again, and when there was no response, he near-ran out of the room.

Harry curled back into a ball and let out a pleased hum because of how wonderfully warm he finally was. He let himself doze in the relative comfort of a fellow house-arrested classmate.

Draco hated everything he had ever been taught.

The Dark Lord was horrible. He was creepy, and cruel, and held something specifically against his father.

Draco had never seen Father or Mother afraid of anyone or anything before. But now they seemed afraid of their own shadows. His mother took so many crazy steps to keep him out of sight of the Dark Lord and his followers. He hadn't even seen his godfather, Severus Snape, since being home.

Boredom was starting to get to him too. No trips out, no vacation to France, and he couldn't even go outside to fly his broom because the wards didn't extend past the Manor and the foundation.

Draco was sitting in his father's reading chair, which was way more comfortable than it looked, and had just finished rewriting his Transfiguration essay. He moved on to a Potions book Severus had sent to him by owl post.

For how dour Severus was, his godfather had great taste in books.

He went to turn the page, then screamed when there was a sharp hiss at his shoulder.

He launched to his feet, but froze as he finally noticed the light weight on his shoulder. Trying to move just his eyeballs, though he ended up tucking his chin in to see his chest, he spotted the source.

The Dark Lord's bloody familiar hung over his shoulder and was glaring up at him.

The thing was small enough that it couldn't even hunt for itself. They had to feed the thing disgusting 'pinkies'; baby rats that didn't even have hair yet. The thing was so much smaller than Nagini that it shouldn't have been scary, but the stupid thing was weird. It watched him like it could understand everything and was spying on them for its Master.

His mother and father came running into the room. None of them had their wands, but his father still looked as if he would fight with his fists.

His mother, on the other hand, caught sight of the snake and gave Draco an exasperated look. "It's just a ball python, Draco."

Draco didn't dare move, not even to reply.

"It could strangle him!" his father exclaimed.

The snake bobbed its head, flicking its tongue.

Draco was no Parselmouth, but he was pretty sure the stupid thing was laughing at him.

"Then grab it behind its head, then pull on its body," Mother said. "It's so small you will be able to outmuscle it."

"It's the Dark Lord's latest familiar, it will be like Nagini," Father said in a hushed tone.

"No," Mother stated, smoothing out her skirts. "My sister and I used to play with snakes all the time when we were kids. It's a juvenile, but they aren't large pythons to begin with. Nagini is a reticulated python, a Burmese python. She's one of the largest breeds."

"Why would the Dark Lord get a small python as a familiar?" Draco murmured softly, then bit a cry as the bloody thing tightened on his shoulders.

"Because it makes for a better spy," Mother said before turning to leave.

"Mum!" he called.

She looked at him over her shoulder, her blue eyes cold. "Go back to what you were doing, my little dragon. It isn't going to hurt you."

Draco was horrified as his mother, who always took his side, left without the slightest worry.

Father gave him a pitying look before following Mother out.

Draco was left on his own with the snake.

He peered down at it again.

The snake, as if it had understood all that, raised its head to brush its cheek with his.

Draco shuddered. But bracing himself with a deep breath, he returned to his seat and his book. It wasn't nearly as comfortable as it was before.

And, again, the snake hissed when he went to turn the page. Draco stilled, and the snake turned its head to read the page, then after a minute, it clearly nodded its head.

Carefully, Draco turned the page. The snake settled in and appeared to be reading alongside him, hissing and nodding only when Draco skimmed and flipped a page too fast.

The snake, thankfully, left him alone when Nagini lumbered into the room. The ball python was a tenth of the bigger python's size, but they seemed to be friends as they slithered out of the study like a nightmare.

Snakes were weapons, not friends.

"So you were a person once?" Harry asked, depressed after reading the morning papers. The dementors had sided with Voldemort. People in the muggle world were disappearing, people in the wizarding world were showing up dead, and the Ministry of Magic was buckling. Dumbledore was under fire by Fudge, like he had been the last time, and the world seemed hopeless because he was 'dead'.

Nice to know they cared, at least.

He just hoped against hope that Fleur, Hermione, and the others were smart enough to know that Voldemort couldn't afford to kill him.

"Yes," Nagini hissed.

"Were you a witch?"

"No, one of my ancestors was cursed in vengeance. My great-grandmother was a witch hunter."

"You don't deserve to suffer for their mistakes," Harry consoled. "I'm going to find a way to get us both out of this."

"It isn't possible."

"Voldemort enslaved you," Harry hissed in turn. She had told him about how Voldemort had forcefully possessed her, and that now his will was tied to her. She literally couldn't ignore a direct order from him. "It's magic, there is always a way."

"You trust me?" she asked.

They had been living with each other all summer, and he had learned much of her past, her history…

Harry knew now why Voldemort had turned him into a snake. Nagini was as old as Dumbledore, except her health hadn't deteriorated. As long as Voldemort lived, Nagini and Harry could remain frozen at this age, size, and youth. The 'familiar' magic for binding a pet to oneself apparently tied the life of the animal to the core magic of the wizard or witch.

Harry hadn't figured out how to use that to his advantage, but he would, he swore to himself. To Nagini.

To Fleur.

He swore that he would get them out of this and end Voldemort.

Draco was very used to the two snakes, literally snakes, cuddling with him while he, they, read books. The ball python seemed to have a particular interest in Transfiguration.

He was so relieved to be returning to Hogwarts in a week, he had foolishly let himself believe that the Dark Lord would give him back his wand and let him go. However, when the Dark Lord showed up to check up on them, he brought friends.

It wasn't a good sign that every one of the visible Death Eaters had their skull masks on. If any weren't wearing them, he couldn't see them behind the pointed hoods.

It was past dusk, and they had luckily already finished supper.

His mother put herself bodily in front of them, and the ball python seemed to take his side, because the snake stayed tense on his shoulders.

"Come forward, young Malfoy," the Dark Lord said in his high voice, his young features belying the old cruelty that shone in his red-tinted eyes.

Draco's mother stayed at his side as he stepped tentatively forward.

The Dark Lord reached out to grab the snake off his shoulders. It seemed to resist for a moment before wrapping itself tightly around the Dark Lord's hand and forearm. The Dark Lord began to stroke its head, and Draco could almost believe that the small python was repulsed by the Dark Lord, considering it didn't bear its fangs or even hiss.

Still, it looked tense.

"Lucius, you have failed me in the past, but let it not be said that the Dark Lord is not merciful. I will allow you to return to the Ministry."

Draco suppressed a shudder as his father bowed his head and thanked the Dark Lord profusely.

"However," the Dark Lord said, "I think a permanent reminder might be called for."

Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf, stepped forward, the others parting for him.

Draco felt the blood drain from his face, already knowing that tonight was the full moon.

"No!" Mother screamed, pulling Draco behind her as Fenrir leered at them both.

"Please! My Lord! Anything, anything else!"

Draco was numb with shock. Did the Dark Lord mean to feed him to the werewolf?

"Dumbledore is still Headmaster," the Dark Lord said condescendingly. "Your son will be fine, Lucius. Severus will tend to him."

Draco knew he wouldn't be fine, and he didn't think his godfather was here right now.

Two masked Death Eaters, Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle by the size of them, went to the windows, with the curtains clearly being their intention.

Draco was shaking, tears spilling down his cheeks, knowing that there was nothing he could do or say that would save him from this.

The ball python in the Dark Lord's hand began to writhe in its Master's hands; hissing, tail whipping, and fangs flashing.

Draco had never credited snakes with the ability to make that much sound.

"Stop it, Potter!" the Dark Lord snarled, squeezing his hand sharply around the snake's centre, likely breaking bones.

"Potter?" someone in the crowd echoed.

Draco gaped at the animal that had grown so upset on his account.

Harry Potter was alive?

And had spent the summer reading books with him?

This train of thought was forgotten as the Dark Lord waved a hand toward Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, who yanked back the curtains and allowed moonlight to spill into the greeting room.

Father threw himself around both Draco and Mother.

They were going to die together.

The sound of tearing clothes and breaking bones was terrifying.

However, Fenrir's howl was cut short, and though Draco could see, he could have sworn he heard the Dark Lord exclaim.

Suddenly, the noise of the room was deafening. As if they were caught in the centre of a tornado, or the Tasmanian Devil that Tracy Davis had described to him once. The wind built, and the house groaned and screamed as wood broke, books flapped, curtains billowed, and the picture windows broke, sounding like a gong struck by hail. An almighty ocean of sounds and human screams blew into one another as Draco and his parents huddled on the floor in what appeared to be the eye of the storm.

The smell of the night hit him first as the sound of something ripping things apart quieted. The world was silent but for his parents' harsh breathing.

A vase further off fell and shattered in the silence.

Father pulled away first, and Mother rose to her knees, still hanging on to Draco.

Which was fine, because he was holding onto her too.

Where Fenrir had been, remained only a red stain amongst the broken floor.

Everyone was down, except for Voldemort, who held around himself a sickly purple and orange shield, with the little ball python curled up in a ball just outside of it.

Nagini was the first to move, curling around the other serpent in a distinctly protective gesture.

A few groans emerged from the piles of black cloaks, but the smell of blood was thick in the air. Even the Dark Lord, who lowered his shield, had cuts on his cheeks, and the arm that he had been holding the python with was bruised and scraped, as if multiple hooks had torn into his skin and ripped.

"Who is alive?" the Dark Lord demanded.

Two men rose, ripping off their hoods and their masks. The masks seemed to have scraped them. The first, Rowle, had a broken nose, and Mr. Nott swayed where he sat. They both said in gruff voices, "I, My Lord."

Father stood and went to check on Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. One of them had a meter-long shard of glass through his centre. After a moment, Father said, "Goyle has a pulse, but he will need to be taken to St. Mungo's."

The Dark Lord hissed, then asked, "Who else?"

Nott looked a bit more aware, and began crawling among the bodies. "The Carrows are dead, as is Macnair. Avery needs a healer."

Draco bit his lip. That meant… That meant that nearly half the remaining Death Eaters from the old war had just been taken out. Crabbe, the Carrows, Macnair, Fenrir, and Pettigrew, whom the Dark Lord had pronounced dead when Potter had died at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.

Draco stilled, his eyes going to the snakes.

Harry Potter.

That's what the Dark Lord had called him. Not dead, kidnapped and transformed into a snake. With Draco, his parents, and Nagini as his keepers.

Bloody hell.

"Rowle, take them," the Dark Lord ordered.

"But, my Lord," Mr. Nott cautioned. "If the healers see the Dark Mark and their cloaks—"

"TAKE THEM NOW!" the Dark Lord roared.

Draco shrank into his mother's side.

With the Death Eaters who had been imprisoned receiving the Dementor's Kiss, the list of Death Eaters had grown slim: Draco's father, Mr. Nott, Goyle, Avery, Rowle, Yaxley, Selwyn, and Professor Snape…

That wasn't much of an army. Sure, there were others, but Draco couldn't think of any who mattered.

"What was that?" Mr. Nott asked as Rowle put feather charms on Avery and Goyle to walk them out of the barriers that had kept Draco, his parents, and Harry Potter trapped inside.

The Dark Lord stepped around Nagini as he said, "An Obscurial. The boy finally broke. I had not imagined that the Obscurial could get around my curse. I designed a specific bind that would keep him as a snake, with the mental capabilities of a human and its current form for all eternity."

He stood over Draco. Mother held him closer, but the Dark Lord held out his hand, and though shakily, Draco obeyed the silent command, offering his hand up to the monster who had nearly fed him and his family to a werewolf.

Merlin, did this mean he owed a life debt to Potter now?

The Dark Lord captured his wrist, twisted his arm up, and yanked back his sleeve.

Draco bit his lip so hard that it bled as the Dark Lord branded him. He fell back into his mother's arms as he was released.

The Dark Lord hissed something at Nagini before he said to Father, "Lucius, you are to keep Harry Potter here and alive, no matter the harm he does to you and your family."

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named misted away into shadow, leaving them with the two snakes, the bloodied bodies, and half the Manor torn apart.

Obscurials were nightmare creatures, tormented children whose own magic was torn against them in their suffering. It was a death sentence that almost no witch or wizard survived past the age of ten.

But Harry Potter remained ever the Boy Who Lived.

Or, at least, the Snake Who Lived, in this case, a fact to which Draco now owed his life. So even with the Dark Mark still raw and burning on his arm, he knew, without looking to his parents, that the Malfoys had just changed sides in this war.

AN: See, I killed the bad guys this time! Thoughts on the chapter, story, alpacas, or characters, please?