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Harry found himself seated on the edge of his bed. The cold from the cavern seemed to have seeped into his bones and he shivered uncontrollably. He hadn't expected Voldemort to bring him here considering that the man had indicated that he planned on torturing him. He kept his eyes closed and waited for the pain to come but instead Voldemort's cold voice reached his ears and made his spine tingle,
"How did you get in there?"
The question sent Harry's thoughts whirling. He was glad for a distraction from those ghastly images of everything he had witnessed including that corpse. They seemed to have imprinted themselves on his mind. Harry wrapped his arms around himself to keep himself warm and still and focused on how he had gotten into that wretched place. He didn't recall getting in the cavern to be difficult. In fact, it had been too easy. Everything had happened on its own. He remembered the pull that he had felt. Maybe he had imagined it. Maybe he really was going insane. When he spoke, he was surprised by how hoarse he sounded,
"It wasn't difficult."
Voldemort instantly grabbed his forearm in a bone shattering hold and turned his hand, palm facing upwards. Harry felt his finger trace the cut on his hand,
"I think I asked the wrong question, Harry. How did you know how to get in there?"
Harry sat as still as possible and bit his tongue. Voldemort's hold was scorching hot and it felt like his hand was burning a hole through his skin. The finger that traced his cut, however, left his skin freezing cold. This was utter and complete torture but he wasn't going to give in. He didn't understand why he resisted but it just felt fundamental to his being. He felt like he would lose himself if he gave in. He felt Voldemort draw closer to him and growl in his ear,
"Talk, Harry, or there are far worse things I can do to you."
Harry couldn't talk, afraid that a cry would escape his lips rather than words. The heat was beginning to spread from where Voldemort's fingers were clasped around his arm to the rest of his body. He willed himself to stay still, his teeth biting deeper into his tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and the intensity of the scorching heat increased. The urge to scream, to move and pull away tore at his insides but he held himself still and quiet by the sheer force of will. What's the worst that could happen to him? He would die from this…. that wasn't a big loss at all. It was nothing compared to what those children must have gone through, all those unspeakable, horrid things…..Harry didn't know when the tears started streaming down his cheeks again and the heat began to dissipate gradually. He felt puzzled…because Voldemort's fingers were still wrapped around his arm and his other hand was still tracing his palm but now he felt nothing, no heat, no cold. Harry opened his mouth to speak and felt a trickle of blood dribble down the corner of his mouth. Voldemort instantly released him and Harry felt him draw away. The next thing he felt was something soft land in his lap,
"Wipe that blood away this instant!"
Harry realized that the thing in his lap was a handkerchief. He picked it up and wiped away the blood. Harry was glad he had his eyes closed. The darkness was soothing him immensely. Once he was done he put it down beside himself because he was sure he would need it again. Voldemort drew closer to him again and Harry felt him grab his hair,
"It shall be in your best interests to start talking now."
Harry exhaled and then spoke,
"Something was pulling at me from inside the cavern."
Voldemort pulled sharply on his hair,
"I shall have none of your lies."
Harry's head was yanked back as Voldemort pulled roughly on his hair,
"Open your eyes. Look at me!"
Harry didn't open his eyes. Wouldn't open them even if his life depended on it,
"I'm not lying. I didn't know how to get in. It all happened by itself."
Harry's hands grabbed the covers tightly as Voldemort's hands gripped his face tightly,
"How do you know parseltongue? What are you, Harry? Because I am beginning to believe that you're not human."
Harry didn't understand what Voldemort meant,
"I don't know what you mean."
Voldemort struck him hard across the face and his grip on his hair was the only thing that kept Harry from falling sideways on the mattress,
"Parseltongue, Harry. It is the language of the snakes. A very rare skill that cannot be possessed by any ordinary human being. Any normal human would have been incapable of surviving in his castle. The fear would have killed them if the occupants did not manage to get to them first…You…...You have provoked nearly all of the occupants and you never seem to be afraid. Your bravery is unnatural for an ordinary human being."
Harry found it difficult to breathe, difficult to digest what Voldemort had just said to him,
"I don't know how to talk to snakes."
Voldemort drew closer to him and hissed in his ear,
"Oh really? You are a liar, Harry."
Harry nodded and the words that slipped off his tongue felt unnatural and sounded unnatural,
"I am not a liar."
Voldemort laughed maniacally,
"You are talking in that language now."
Harry tried to understand what was happening here. Now that he observed it, his voice did sound odd and the words that he had spoken had sounded off. He tried talking in English. They sounded English in his head but when he spoke, they felt odd again,
"I'm not talking in parsel….whatever you called it."
But he was he knew it now. How….How was he even talking in a language he hadn't ever read or heard or spoken before,
"This isn't right. It can't be right. I don't know how this is happening."
Voldemort released his hair and cupped his face,
"Look at me and say that."
Harry opened his eyes and was met with Voldemort's crimson red gaze. He tried…..he tried desperately not to let his gaze wander but it did and he was met with the sight of the snake inches away from his face. Its yellow gaze fixated on him. Harry moved his head and the snake titled it's, it's eyes never leaving his face. Harry gulped and pulled away from Voldemort. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to breathe. He rose to his feet and stepped as far away from Voldemort as possible. His gaze took in the darkness oozing from his skin and Harry couldn't help but gasp. It wasn't possible for the darkness to get any darker but it had. It was far wickeder than the darkness he had witnessed in the memory. Harry rasped out,
"You're one of them."
Harry retreated until his back hit the wall. A frown crossed Voldemort's features and Harry watched the snake coil tighter around his neck and hiss dangerously.
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