"What are you doing here, Nagini?" Harry woke up in the middle of the night sensing her presence in the room. He hadn't seen her for almost a week, acutely aware of her absence. He relied on her for more than a year every day, even if only for her silent proximity, and now getting used not to wasn't the best of experiences.
"Is this how you greet me, hatchling?" She slithered closer, settling down on Harry's legs. He propped himself up on the pillow, watching her silhouette with narrowed eyes.
"You moved through the castle like that?" He indicated the length of her huge body, stroking the scales as he did so.
"I know the castle and its hidden paths. It is night, no one saw me."
"You still had to go through the Common Room." Harry was sceptical but if Voldemort let her loose in her full form, Harry wasn't the one to be concerned. The basic caution was something ingrained in him and he preferred to seize control of the possible things that could go wrong if he had a choice.
"And you already made sure humans here would not be surprised to see me."
"Fine." He didn't have much choice in the matter anyway, other than mentally preparing for someone freaking out over the unattended snake. "So why are you here, Nagini?"
"Can I not say hello to my little hatchling?" She curled around positioning her head on Harry's chest.
"Do not tell me you already missed me?"
"Have you not missed me?" Her gaze, reflecting a stray light, was almost hypnotizing and all too knowing. Harry didn't answer, he couldn't lie in Parseltongue and it wasn't like she clearly answered him too.
"How is Voldemort?" he asked instead.
"Good. As good as he can be in a borrowed body." Nagini shifted, getting closer to Harry's face.
It was dark, so he couldn't see her well but something in Nagini's movements felt sluggish, she barely had any energy.
"What about you?" he asked, gliding his hand along Nagini's scales trying to gauge her state, but without seeing clearly it was hard to tell, he could only rely on his instinct that rapidly kicked in.
"I am fine."
"I do not think so. Tell me what happened."
Nagini didn't sigh but was close to it, Harry was sure.
"My Master is in another man's body, it is not a permanent solution and requires a lot of magical power to sustain. I am a good source of such support as his Familiar."
"What? Is he draining you?"
"It is the least I can do, you need not worry about me, hatchling."
"That is…" he started, but trailed off. It wasn't something he could have any say in, Nagini was a devoted snake who would do anything for her Master without any regard for herself. "As long as you are not hurting."
"I am not. I am happy he got to receive my help. Otherwise, he might have ended up consuming unicorn blood." she shuddered and Harry refrained from grimacing. He knew that whoever dared such a thing would be forever doomed to live a cursed life, which Voldemort probably didn't care about. But by Nagini's reaction, she did, and he could only agree that relying on their Familiar link was a better approach all in all. Harry concentrated on his magic tapping into his own magical potential, sharing it with Nagini like he once already did.
"That was not necessary, Harry." but she hummed pleased and they stayed quiet submerged in the feel of coursing magic, gradually falling into slumber.
The next time Harry woke up Nagini seemed more energetic. It was still early to get up for classes so they continued talking, Nagini all too eager to share her observations, "He was intrigued about you."
"Really?" Harry barely contained a laugh.
"All right, he was a bit angry at first, but now that he listened, he wants you to join him."
"A bit? I was under the impression I barely avoided my death."
"Do not exaggerate, Harry. You cannot blame him. He never expected to see his favourite Familiar in such a friendly situation with the boy he hated."
"You are his only Familiar. And what is it with all the hatred? I could not have offended him so much when I was just a year old?"
"Do not ask me." Nagini answered like she always did to such questions. She either didn't know or it was not her bit of information to share, but there must be the reasoning after all, and Harry wasn't about to just let it go.
"Why does he want me to join him now?"
"After I told him what a good hatchling you are, he now thinks you could be useful."
"So you managed to talk to him and he actually listened?"
Nagini looked annoyed, "He has his temper, yes, but some things are of no control to him. He had…" she hesitated and Harry encouraged her with a soothing stroke on her temple, "He had a bit of a mental decline even before the you accident happened."
Harry was surprised to hear that. A bit from Nagini's mouth might actually mean a lot. And seeing the man for himself with true madness in those eyes, he could really believe it. Maybe there were indeed things Voldemort couldn't control but it was still no excuse to go after a toddler. He told Nagini as much. She didn't object to that logic but still had the need to defend her Master.
"I am sure there is nothing you two cannot solve with an honest discussion. So, will you join him?"
"No." Harry wasn't convinced yet that it was the right call. And an honest discussion with a madman was something he wouldn't believe is possible until he experiences it himself.
"Why not?" Nagini looked frustrated.
"For one, he killed my parents."
"As if you care about it." she almost huffed in disbelief.
"I do. If only out of principle."
Nagini sent him an Oh really? look. Harry sighed.
"Secondly, in what capacity will I have to join him? I am not going to be his faithful servant if that is what he has in mind."
"He has not told me. But he believes you would have a better chance to unveil Dumbledore's secret."
Harry sighed. "Maybe I can help him, but it does not mean I have to join him."
"It practically does."
"No? I will not be a Death Eater and will not take his orders, I am by myself and can choose to help whoever I want."
Nagini hissed accepting this, "He will talk to you tomorrow after class."
With that she slithered off and out of the dorms. Harry shook his head, itching to force more precaution to this audacious wandering around the castle but hopefully none of the students were awake this early yet. Some things were over Harry's control too and he had to learn to deal with it even if he didn't like it.
Harry didn't bother to listen to any of Quirrell's blubbering, writing a Potions essay instead. He was sitting with Crabbe this time so it wasn't like the other boy pried into what he was doing and to anyone else it looked like he diligently took notes. When the class was over, Harry stayed in place waving to other Slytherins to go without him.
The lock on the door clicked and Harry looked up. Stuttering Quirrell was gone and in his place stood Voldemort, red eyes intensely focused on Harry.
Harry closed his Potions book with a thud and started gathering his things waiting for the other man to speak. So far his scar didn't hurt as much, only an echoing pain resonated from time to time. Was it progress? Voldemort didn't seem angry but there was still an obvious glint of insanity likely mixed with deep hatred.
"Potter," Voldemort started. "I believe Nagini told you I am willing to allow you to join me."
"Thank you for your gracious offer, but I must decline." Harry couldn't believe Voldemort actually put it this way.
"You will not join me?"
"I mean, I could join you…" Harry held a dramatic pause. "For tea or something, but not as your servant, no."
Despite Harry's daring words Voldemort didn't respond with anger. He looked thoughtful and then to Harry's disbelief he returned to Quirrell's seat at the front desk and then a chair appeared on the other side of it, along with two cups of tea.
"Then join me if you please, Harry." His voice was deviously sweet and Harry could only stare. He then shook his head not sure what to make of it but considering it a good sign. Maybe they could talk.
Harry took an offered cup and smelled it — it was green tea with jasmine, a good choice — and put it back on the plate, just holding, not taking a single sip. Voldemort lifted an eyebrow.
"Do you think I poisoned it?"
"I'm not taking my chances, but it smells nice, thank you." Harry could be wary and polite, no big deal.
"You seem to forget that if I wanted to poison you, I have a very poisonous Familiar who will do as I say."
Harry visibly didn't react but his hold on the cup became a bit more firm. Indeed, that was an easy solution for Voldemort. And so ironic for Harry who thought he could befriend a deadly snake. Her ingrained inability to harm a Parselmouth out of her own volition could be easily outweighed by a direct order from her Master.
Speaking of Nagini, Harry didn't see her around, she probably was napping somewhere in Quirrell's quarters.
Harry narrowed his eyes at Voldemort who seemingly enjoyed his tea.
"Where would the satisfaction in that be?"
Voldemort laughed.
"Believe me, killing the Potter child with a cup of tea wouldn't be more satisfactory one bit."
Harry could agree with that but he still didn't drink, putting the cup aside and crossing his arms.
"Why killing me would be of any satisfaction to you anyway?" he asked, prompting Voldemort to switch to Parseltongue.
Voldemort shot him a sidelong look, "That is a tale for another time, Potter."
"Well, maybe we could have a more productive discussion if I were to know your reasons."
"It would not matter now. You have to prove yourself to me before I trust you with something of that calibre."
"Oh? How about you prove yourself to me?"
Harry's scar exploded with pain but it was veiled soon enough. Voldemort must have used Occlumency, which was quite considerate of him and showed he was capable of listening. But it still gave no guarantee that he won't try to kill Harry again. Even if Harry proved himself somehow, there's nothing stopping Voldemort from disposing of Harry afterwards.
"What do you think of Dumbledore, Harry?" Voldemort decided to change the topic.
"He wronged me too many times to think about him in any positive light." Harry answered honestly, not having much more to say. He threw away his hatred for Dumbledore long ago, like he did with all his emotions, only a steady distaste remaining.
"Have I not wronged you as much?"
Harry considered the question carefully. "You did, but you were never supposed to be by my side."
"Except now, I am offering you to be by my side."
"As long as you put it that way, and not expecting me to be under your command."
Harry could have imagined it, but for a brief moment he saw something akin to respect flashing in Voldemort's eyes. He hummed over his cup of tea and then abruptly placed it on the table with a click.
"You are so sure of yourself, boy. But I am willing to let it slide for now if you agree to help me with something."
"Dumbledore's secret?"
"Yes. You heard him saying that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds, right?"
Harry nodded. "To everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." It was a very out-of-place remark which Harry wasn't interested in, until now, apparently. "Am I to die a very painful death?"
Voldemort scoffed. "Dumbledore is hiding the Philosopher's stone there."
Harry had to recall every bit about the Stone he read to piece the dots together.
"So you want it to achieve immortality?"
"Do I look like a mortal to you?" Voldemort didn't wait for an answer. "My primary goal is to regain my body."
"And return in all your Dark Lord glory more powerful than ever before, I get it."
Voldemort flashed an annoyed look at him, and Harry scratched his chin thoughtfully. "So how exactly can I help?"
"I believe Dumbledore will trust you to stop me from taking the stone."
"Even though I am a Slytherin now?"
"I am sure, for him, you are more of a Boy Who Lived than anything else." Harry looked unsure so Voldemort added. "As long as we play our cards right."
"You want me to gain his trust, right?" Harry wrinkled his nose. He wanted to avoid Dumbledore, not to get closer to him.
"Indeed."
"Why did he hide the Philosopher's stone in Hogwarts to begin with?"
"To lure me here and let you have a taste of defeating the Dark Lord once again?"
Harry wanted to laugh, he honestly hoped it was a joke but by the look on Quirrell's face, it wasn't.
Harry put his hand on the desk leaning slightly to Voldemort. "You know, I do not believe I defeated you in the first place."
"Good to know." Voldemort scowled venomously, "But here I am without a body, nevertheless."
Harry leaned back, smiling a bit. "Well, if me failing to protect the Stone from you pisses Dumbledore off, I am all in." Not to let Voldemort rejoice, Harry pondered out loud, "On a second thought, I can take the Stone for myself and still piss Dumbledore off letting him think you took it. What would you say to that?"
Voldemort glared at him but before he could answer there was a delighted hiss coming from somewhere behind Quirrell's back. Nagini slithered closer, climbing over Quirrell's desk. "I would say, I raised you well, hatchling." she hissed, watching Harry proudly.
"Nagini…" Voldemort didn't look betrayed but astonishment at her statement was evident. Still, he brushed his fingers along her body with a surprising fondness.
Harry suddenly wondered how that scene would look if Voldemort were to gain his real body back. He averted his eyes, composing the thoughts. There were merits to helping him with that, sure. But the distrust between them still remained.
"I still cannot trust you not to kill me eventually," he said. "And it is hard to believe you will trust me so easily as well."
"I will not kill you if you hand me over the Stone."
"If I were to find it, that is."
"True. You might be rendered useless in case I get a hold of it first."
"See? How can I trust you?"
"You can trust me."
"That is your belief, not the fact. I cannot trust you, that is my belief. We both can say it in Parseltongue." he sent Voldemort an unimpressed look. Harry wasn't to be played so easily and wasn't stupid. He experimented with the language quite a bit to know where the boundaries of truths, promises, and beliefs stood. "Even if you promise not to kill me, meaning it, nothing stops you from changing your mind later."
There was a crack in Voldemort's composure and a sharp pain hit Harry again. "Hey! Do not think of torturing me into submission." Harry didn't lose his calm this time, practising Occlumency with renewed urgency certainly paid off, and Harry was still pretty content with the way the conversation was going. Nevertheless, he stood up and went to his desk to fetch his things. On the way back he stopped in front of Voldemort hesitating. The pain subsided but it was still there.
"You know, give me some time. And I will think of something. Magical contracts exist, are they not?"
"Not every magical contract is worth executing." Voldemort looked at Harry sharply.
"That is why I said I will think about it. You can think of something too." Voldemort didn't say anything so Harry continued. "I am afraid I have to go now, it was nice to talk to you."
"Likewise." Voldemort hissed, not looking pleased at all. But at least Harry didn't collapse from the side effects of the man's anger, so it was indeed nice.
He bid them goodbye, catching Nagini's tale with his palm gently as he walked away, now with much more spirit than a week ago.
"Mr Potter, stay behind for a moment," said Professor McGonagall after the class finished. Reluctantly Harry went over to her, not very eager to listen to her observations about his progress with matches and needles. Most of the students already mastered this supposedly easy trick while Harry honestly struggled. The same happened with most magic that was taught in Hogwarts, and he had yet to figure it out. He had his suspicions and his ways to go around it, like he did in the Flying lesson, but Transfiguration didn't seem to come naturally to him.
"Yes, Professor?" Harry looked at her questioningly, not showing any apprehension.
"From your essays and practical work in class, I can tell you are a very diligent student, Mr Potter." Harry thanked her and she then sighed heavily, "I must ask though, is everything all right with your wand?"
"Yes? I think so." And it was fine, it really was, Harry could feel the buzz from it resonating with Harry's own magic like a perfect conductor, only it wasn't flowing all the way through to perform the spell.
McGonagall examined him for any signs of uncertainty and then nodded. "Very well. I hope you'll catch up soon enough." she paused and then stood up. "Come along, Mr Potter. Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you."
Harry inwardly grimaced, the conversation abruptly turning unpleasant. But this had to happen sooner or later, hadn't it? Voldemort also suggested getting closer to the Headmaster, so might as well check the waters.
Harry didn't express any uneasiness as he followed McGonagall through corridors all the way until they reached the Headmaster's Tower.
"Lemon sherbet." McGonagall announced to the gargoyle and it moved, revealing a circular moving staircase inviting Harry to proceed.
There was silence, only interrupted by the noise of various trinkets in the office, as Dumbledore watched Harry with scrutiny hidden under the twinkles in his eyes. Harry glanced at the portraits of previous Headmasters who were either snoring or glanced at Harry back with not so subtle interest. So far Harry refused the candy, made a compliment to the beautiful Phoenix, and suppressed the urge to tell Dumbledore off for calling him my boy. Harry answered politely that yes, his first weeks went well, Slytherin was the right choice and he was settling in just fine.
"I'm sure, Harry, that your parents would be proud of you no matter what house you're in. But if you ever have any doubts, you are always welcome to come here and talk, my boy."
Why? Harry didn't ask despite it being a very reasonable question. Who was Dumbledore to assume that Harry will ever consider him as someone to reach out to? Bearing in mind Voldemort's implication, Harry said instead, "That is very kind of you, Professor." He couldn't bring himself to say more and waited.
Maybe this was the moment when Dumbledore admitted that he was Harry's magical guardian. Harry didn't want to mention it himself, preferring to see how Dumbledore will broach the subject but with each passing silent minute it became clear that he simply won't. Even if Dumbledore was aware that Harry already knew through McGonagall, wasn't it an important matter to discuss?
Harry still waited, pretending to be interested in a strange ticking mechanism.
"Is there anything you want to tell me, Harry?" Dumbledore's eyes were smiling, suspiciously too bright.
"No, nothing, Professor." Harry briefly looked him in the eye. "Do you, sir?"
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, smiling. "Ah, that, my boy, can be left for another time." He actually winked and only through practised willpower Harry's face didn't twitch. So another time was already decided? Harry chose not to pry taking it for a dismissal, not wishing to stay here any longer.
Dumbledore might keep his secrets and act all mysterious all he wanted. This would only make it all the more satisfactory when Harry inevitably snatches that guardianship away.
Harry didn't lie about settling fine in Slytherin. After the constructive discussion they all had last week, Harry was treated mostly with respect, calculative interest or neutral tolerance. Even Tracey Davis, who was the most vocal in her aggression towards Harry was now eyeing him with no trace of distaste. She seemed unsure how to approach him now and break the ice, although Harry gave her no indication that he was offended by her behaviour. He really wasn't, especially after he understood why she acted this way.
Through Theodore Nott, he learned that Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode were both half-bloods whose families only recently regained their positions in pureblood circles. They wanted to reinforce their position in Slytherin House, diverting all the negative attention towards Harry, leaving their own blood status as something of an afterthought. Harry understood the tactic, after all, it was a Slytherin thing to do, one has to survive in a den of snakes even at the expense of others if necessary. Too bad Harry wasn't as disposable as they hoped. But it didn't mean Harry had to carry hard feelings towards them because of that. If anything, they weren't worth any feelings on his part at all.
He was reading a book on magical oaths, the only one he could find in the library. It was too general and not very helpful for practice but at least it gave him some ideas. He could probably find more advanced stuff in the Restricted Section, he should definitely ask Voldemort next time to sign him permission. Even if they find a solution — for the problem apparently only Harry had — a signed permission would be beneficial for many other research topics too.
The fireplace crackling and the hushed chatter around created a warm atmosphere that was almost soothing. Suddenly a black ball of fur jumped onto his book and only because he wasn't too relaxed Harry didn't jump as well.
"I'm sorry, Potter." A rushed voice came near and Harry turned to see Millicent Bulstrode somewhat out of breath. Harry looked back at his book where a small cat sprawled all over, meowing quietly.
"Is it your Familiar?" Harry watched as Millicent grabbed it, the claws digging into pages in the process.
"Goodness, no." she calmed her breathing as she sat down across from Harry's armchair. "I mean, it would be lovely. But it takes a long time to develop a connection suitable for the bond, this one is still a kitten." she patted the cat around its ears, and more content meowing was heard. "And the ritual is far too advanced for us yet."
Harry listened with interest. He heard about the Familiar bond from Nagini so many times that it seemed almost natural to him. He barely ever stopped to consider how the bond was actually formed and what was required for it, assuming that over the years a mutual connection developed itself. While that might be also true, it was not denying that the bond was special and also gave Nagini some extra powers. Considering the connection was so deep she could literally feel it from a distance, it was no wonder that something else was involved. More advanced and intentional, like a ritual. That was a topic he now thought was a crime not to explore further. According to Bulstrode it was a ritual too easy to fail, if the connection wasn't strong enough already or the involved parties weren't compatible enough. It also required a lot of magical power, far exceeding the capacity of an average wizard. Something so serious wasn't to casually try so not many wizards did, despite the bond being extremely beneficial if successful.
"How do you know so much about Familiars?" Harry asked at some point.
"I was always interested in magical creatures and one thing led to another… we have this book in our family library on Familiars. I can lend it to you, if you wish." she kindly offered, probably still flustered about her initial attitude towards Harry, and he wasn't about to refuse. Bulstrode promised to ask her mother to send the book, which should arrive within a week.
In the meantime, Harry continued his research on the ways to make sure Voldemort won't kill him. Even though the man seemed willing to cooperate now, it didn't mean he had no agenda to kill Harry Potter on the back burner. The Unbreakable Vow seemed like the most popular choice, but required a witness and Harry doubted Voldemort would agree to stake his own life for this. Life debt could probably work considering that technically Harry was about to agree to save Voldemort's life but the conditions for it to actually be considered one were unclear, and most recorded cases appeared to be accidental in nature. Swearing on one's magic was simple enough but not permanent in its effect, only used for settling trivial quarrels.
Harry had an inkling that the book on Familiars will provide more information than just about the formation of the bond. And when he finally got his hands on it, he was rewarded with a passage describing a contract ritual involving the bond. It used a Familiar as a collateral for failing to appease the agreed terms resulting in its death. It was severe and not unlike the Unbreakable Vow in gravity of the punishment. Harry almost felt bad for thinking to use Nagini this way, but it also seemed like a perfect solution for their circle of distrust. While Harry and Voldemort might not trust each other, they both trusted Nagini, who trusted them both in return.
"And why should I thrust you not to attempt to kill me or Nagini once you have that power over her?" inquired Voldemort once Harry proposed his idea. By the thumping in his forehead Harry could tell that Voldemort was inwardly fuming but still composed himself much better compared to their first conversation. Must be the influence of Nagini and his own willingness not to intimidate Harry away.
"I promise, I can be trusted." he said in Parseltongue just to annoy the man, who looked at him utterly displeased. If things were that simple they wouldn't be discussing them in the first place. "Look," Harry sighed. "I honestly do not have any reason to attempt to kill you, never had, that one accident does not count. If I were to try killing you I would rather do it now when you are in such a weak state."
There was an immediate response to that in the cutting pain across Harry's scar, but he ignored it. What he said was true after all, there was no denying that Voldemort was at his weakest now, having to rely on someone else's body to survive and in the need of active magical support from Nagini to sustain even that state. Harry wasn't blind nor was he delusional. The Dark Lord might have been feared through years before but the fact was that he ended up defeated. It was admirable that he survived anyway, but if Harry put his mind to it, he could probably find a way to end Voldemort, never to rise to power again. The scar hurt but by the intensity of the burning red eyes Harry assumed Voldemort understood all that too. Maybe that was why he chose to cooperate with Harry instead of insisting on their animosity. He clearly saw that Harry could be useful, but what he didn't foresee was that Harry wasn't the one to be merely used.
"I would not have any reason to help you gain an immortal body with the power of Elixir of Life if I wished for your death at all." Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair, messing them further. He glanced at Nagini who sprawled on Quirrell's desk like she had no concern in the world. "Besides," Harry continued, "You will be the one performing the ritual and controlling the future outcome, the conditions I suggest are pretty straightforward, the ritual does not have to take place at all if I do not succeed in acquiring the Stone. It is still very possible that you do this yourself which would render the whole thing moot." he shrugged expressing that he won't be able to do anything about that.
"Still too much risk." Voldemort must be really attached to Nagini if he still hesitated.
"Risky only if you decide to kill me. Which is the entire point. It is not like I will be the one to hold any power over Nagini's life. That will be all yours. Unless, of course, you still secretly wish for my death…" Harry paused for emphasis. "In that case, I will be in the right not to trust you."
It was a vicious circle of distrust, and Harry hoped that Nagini was the crucial element to make any cooperation between them work.
"That does sound sensible to me." Nagini eventually hissed, expressing her support to Harry's plan. Harry was relieved that she wasn't disappointed or offended to be given the most dangerous part in it. And that seemed to seal the deal as Voldemort slightly relaxed.
"Fine," he hissed, stroking Nagini's shiny scales with more force than usual. His eyebrows twitched. "Shall we discuss the details of acquiring the Stone now?"
Harry laughed, and hesitating only for a moment, took a sip of tea that stayed untouched before him so far. It was classic Earl Grey this time, which surprisingly remained warm throughout the conversation. A bit too strong, leaving a tangy feeling on his tongue but somehow fitting for their first agreement of sorts.
Now that Harry had his best interests at least partially ensured, he put his mind to solving the other problem. Apparently, the door in the third-floor corridor was guarded by a huge three-headed dog and other tricks awaited further to protect the Stone. Quirrell himself was assigned to put a defence in one of the rooms in the form of a troll, to Harry's disbelief.
"Is it supposed to be an obstacle for the Dark Lord?"
Voldemort scoffed. "Of course not. It makes me only more convinced that the defences are designed with children in mind." he bore his eyes into Harry. "Other Professors are setting up their own defences, which Quirrell is not privy to. The assignment didn't even mention what it was for, none of them expects the Dark Lord to be there."
"Except for Dumbledore."
"Yes, and that's why I'm sure he'll come up with something more challenging for me."
"I asked him about the third-floor corridor."
"Did you now?"
"Yes, when he summoned me again. I thought I might as well express my curiosity. He seemed happy."
"Sure he did."
"He said that I shouldn't be too curious if I don't want to die. But weirdly he suggested that I make more friends? From Gryffindor no less. Something about the pure desires of the heart, it was too confusing."
"I can imagine that." Voldemort looked thoughtful, "Although, you should keep his words in mind. He thrives on talking with hints. And if he really wants you to defeat me in this little adventure, he'll be fervently throwing clues at you."
Harry frowned in thought. "He suggested I visit Hagrid if I ever needed advice about my owl."
"That is a random suggestion to make to a first-year student. But you should go."
Granted, Hagrid was the one to give him Hedwig and he might be genuinely concerned about her and Harry's well-being, but that didn't have to include Dumbledore in any way. Harry hummed in agreement, "I considered that too. Hagrid is Dumbledore's man and certainly knows something."
"The means to deal with the dog, obviously. I meant to coax the information from him myself but I won't bother now. You, playing by Dumbledore's script, would kill both birds with one shot."
They moved their meetings to Quirrell's office, which wasn't far from the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. It was slightly more comfortable and suited better for privacy. This way they could talk more frequently without waiting each week for class. Harry's scar didn't act up as severely anymore, but he could still see how much effort Voldemort had to make to contain himself. Sometimes he looked ready to fall apart and usually Nagini was always there to offer her support.
Harry saw that this wasn't the Dark Lord at his best. Even then, it was the man who knew power, the aura around him was striking and dangerous. Harry wasn't fooling himself into thinking that things would be the same if it wasn't for Nagini. Under any other circumstances Voldemort might have been not as convinced of Harry's usefulness. Harry himself lacked power, the majority of his achievements so far relied on Nagini's help. And if Harry had to ever stand against Voldemort, the way Dumbledore wanted him, Harry doubted he would have ever had a chance. It was a good thing Harry didn't do what Dumbledore wanted.
Having his mind relaxed about the whole inevitable death at Voldemort's hand looming over his head, Harry was now very much interested to see Voldemort at his full power. Nagini was strongly biassed, so she wasn't exactly a reliable source, but her recollections still were highly intriguing.
Harry sat on his bed with a feather in front of him, eying it suspiciously.
The feather wasn't bulging one bit after every perfect Wingardium Leviosa Harry said and every perfect wand movement he performed. The class was only earlier today with smug Draco Malfoy and a couple of proud Ravenclaws already successfully mastering the spell. Later in the evening Harry decided to try it out again. Levitation was something he practised wandlessly before with Nagini, who was now occupying a large portion of his bed offering unhelpful commentaries.
"You should try fuelling your emotions into the spell, that is the way human magic works." she drawled, looking at Harry with I told you so written all over her face.
"I am trying to levitate a feather. Why should I feel anything?" Harry pointed his wand at the feather again, his movements were perfect, he said the spell properly but still, nothing happened. Harry put the wand on the bed and looked at Nagini quizzically.
"I know it is not supposed to be difficult, I should be able to do that."
He continued watching Nagini as he felt a familiar tingling sensation. He concentrated his magic wrapping it around the snake and in the next moment she was floating in the air.
"It is so easy with you. But I cannot do the same with feathers?"
Nagini looked amused. "Feathers are not snakes, Harry."
Harry sighed, dropping his concentration, and Nagini flopped onto the bed not looking so amused now.
"It seems you have a great affinity to serpent's magic which runs primarily on instinct and intuition, but you stumble when it comes to human magic." she suggested thoughtfully. "Perhaps, you should consider that emotions are important after all."
Harry wasn't impressed with that suggestion. "I abandoned them and I will not go back to that weak state of mind just because I stumbled on some little problems."
"Suit yourself. But your problems will only grow bigger."
"I will deal with them when they come." he said stubbornly.
"You have not solved your little feather problem yet." she pointed out. "Now that I think about it, you have not solved a match problem either."
Harry didn't answer lying on the bed and closing his eyes. Nagini huffed slithering down.
"You are not even frustrated enough to do something about it."
When Nagini was out of the room, Harry whispered to himself, "I do not have to be."
The next morning before classes Harry tested some theories he had. Harry took out his glasses with silver snakes and focused his magic on the object. He already had a pretty good grasp on his wandless technique and if snakes were the key, he should be able to do it without the wand or a spell. Sure enough, the glasses took off from the bed and stayed in the air as long as Harry had his eyes locked on them. They fell as soon as he blinked so he tried again focusing on the sensation of magic, until he managed to force the intent even with his eyes closed. He had a vivid image of the snakes encircling the glasses and they seemed to keep the magic grounded.
Harry turned his attention to the feather. It lacked any snakes and even imagining them like he did with the broomstick wasn't helpful at his first tries. But Harry was determined to make it work. He succeeded in levitating the glasses without looking at them, so there was no reason he shouldn't be able to do the same with a feather, while maintaining an image of a snake. Slowly but surely Harry figured out the balance of holding the feather with his magic and keeping a snake at the forefront of his mind. Maybe he could try creating another Occlumency barrier consisting of snakes to deepen this ability. But for now he was pleased with the result he got.
That day he went with new determination to the Transfiguration class. Discarding a pointy metallic snake that appeared instead of a needle for the umpteenth time, Harry patiently tried again, reinforcing his mental shield and keeping his intent separate from swarming snakes. Finally, there was a perfect needle lying before him on a desk. He discarded it too, glad that McGonagall wasn't paying attention to him. For her, it must have looked like he didn't do anything, only staring at his desk intently.
Harry repeated the same process several times and when he was confidently getting the desired result without fault he took out his wand and did the same now with necessary wand movements he performed mechanically. The wand provided no aid, but served as a distraction. Harry lifted the needle up examining it and McGonagall awarded him well deserved 5 points with a proud look on her face. If only she knew that her teachings did nothing to Harry's eventual success.
The Great Hall was screaming Halloween with everything, starting from bats and Jack-o'-lanterns decorating the hall and ending with everything pumpkin and apple on the table. Harry didn't mind the taste himself but couldn't help but notice that Slytherins looked gloomier and quieter than usual. The feast barely started, when older Slytherins already took their leave. And soon their table became emptier with each minute.
"Let's go, Harry." Parkinson took him by the arm prompting to leave. Harry complied, but lifted an eyebrow at her once they were out the hall and Pansy readily provided the explanation while they strode through corridors. "We don't celebrate the Halloween exactly. It's a muggle tradition. For us, it's Samhain, when the veil between the dead and living is at its thinnest and we have a chance to honour our ancestors."
Harry nodded in understanding, he didn't recall many mentions of Halloween in all the books on wizarding traditions that suggested its ingrained importance. But there weren't many explaining Samhain either. Harry wished he had access to all the knowledge hidden behind pureblood families' private libraries, their collections must've been much more worthwhile than anything he could find in the openly accessible sources.
In the Common Room Slytherins were gathered in small groups, sharing food between themselves and acting far more relaxed than at the feast earlier. Pansy joined other first-years who formed a small circle too and Harry followed her, curious to see what else the tradition entailed. They seemed like they were having a great time, simply chatting not unlike any other day, but today it looked more like bonding than just a pastime. Harry wasn't opposed to the idea, although having a hard time participating in the conversation, he settled on observing for a time being.
At one point Daphne Greengrass summoned some parchment, handing out pieces of it to each of them. She paused before giving one to Harry, "Do you want to participate in the Honouring Ritual?"
"Yes." he immediately said, not having a reason to refuse. He already told them he wanted to learn and that wasn't a shallow declaration.
Blaise Zabini took out a knife placing it in the middle of their circle. "There is blood involved," he said.
"Usually it's what scares all the mudbloods." Bulstrode supplied.
Pansy rolled her eyes, "This ritual is totally innocent though. But they rendered it banned anyway."
"Pathetic." Tracey Davis snapped.
Malfoy chuckled, "Yeah, but we don't need their approval to do this anyway."
"Isn't there a way to detect banned rituals being performed?" Harry voiced his concern.
"Nah," Draco waved his hand and Theodore Nott elaborated, "Hogwarts isn't averse to traditional magic transpiring within its grounds, at least here in the Slytherin parts."
"Besides, Snape will always cover for us." Draco concluded.
"And like Pansy said, the ritual is completely innocent." Blaise assured, taking the knife with a smile that was slightly too sinister for his words.
"Okay, that's pretty simple." Daphne took over the explanation. "You take the knife to draw some blood from your finger and write with it the names of ancestors you wish to pay respects to." Zabini demonstrated and then took out the wand to cast Incendio. The paper went aflame disintegrating to ashes rapidly, blazing yellow, and that was it.
Fire-Making spell was something they were to learn only in the next semester but Slytherins were likely used to it from early childhood and cast it effortlessly. Harry knew the wand movements for it but wasn't sure he'd succeed at his first try. He figured out how to incorporate his own way of doing magic to studied spells only earlier this day, and wasn't comfortable applying the technique with something unfamiliar yet.
No one took the knife from Blaise to continue and Daphne went on. "We usually do this in private, only sharing the moment with other family members. Slytherin can be considered a family in a way, but I know many of us still prefer to honour their ancestors privately." She glanced at Harry. "Blaise agreed to show how to do it, but we all don't have to proceed now."
Pansy stood up at that as if on cue. "Well, yeah. That's pretty much it." she patted Harry on the shoulder briefly. "I know this day also means something different to you." And with that she went to her dormitory. Harry looked after her trying to decipher what she meant when a belated realisation occurred to him. It was the day his parents died. Harry should have thought about it sooner, but this fact completely evaded his mind.
Malfoy and Nott also nodded to Greengrass and took their leave as well. Everyone soon dispersed until there were only Harry and Blaise left. He offered Harry a knife, "You can use it if you wish. Others have their own knives for sure."
Harry took the knife with interest. He noticed Zabini's cut on his hand was already healed. "Is it a special knife for rituals?"
"Yes." Blaise nodded. "You should get one for yourself, but for now I don't mind sharing."
"I hope the lack of privacy didn't disturb the ritual for you today."
Zabini smirked at that, "All my dads were scum, they don't deserve any additional honour."
There should be more to the story but Harry didn't pry, accepting the notion. Bidding Zabini goodnight, he went to his bed as well. He still wasn't too optimistic about the ritual working, not sure if he'd be able to produce fire correctly but he was willing to try.
He wrote James Potter and Lily Potter on a piece of parchment with his blood and the cut on his finger soon disappeared along with whatever blood was left on the knife. Just to check Harry flashed his wand recalling the proper movements, "Incendio." As expected, nothing happened.
Putting aside his wand, Harry applied the method he used today for a feather and needle, concentrating on producing fire. This was something not as straightforward and took him about an hour until small flames appeared before him, they were green in colour and not burning hot, and disappeared almost instantly. At this point Harry almost forgot what he even needed the fire for. He repeated, producing the fire again, now guiding it to burn the parchment. It was hot to the touch this time. But the paper didn't burn.
He must have ultimately done it all wrong. Surely, the ritual required a specific Fire-Making spell for a reason and Harry's wish to communicate with his parents wasn't all that strong and genuine in the first place. Harry gave up. He was exhausted from all the magic he did today and the ritual didn't seem as important anymore.
The next weeks went much better for Harry when he started practising all the required spells using Parselmagic instead of whatever was supposed to be done with a wand. He knew all the correct movements already from his earlier studies at Privet Drive so at least he didn't have to waste his time on learning that. The more he used Parselmagic the easier it was for him to produce the intended result, effortlessly faking the whole thing with proper pronunciation and wand movements in front of Professors.
Around the mid-November, after Herbology, Harry went to Hagrid at last. They talked about Hedwig, Harry learned some useful tips and received delicious treats for her. Harry visited Hedwig every other day in the owlery so she wouldn't forget about him, and he was sure the extra treats would please her greatly.
The conveniently placed Daily Prophet issue about the break-in into Gringotts prompted the speech about Nicolas Flamel and very suspicious assurances that it was a secret and Harry couldn't tell anyone. Harry was in Slytherin though, so he couldn't fathom why the conversation was even happening if it was such a guarded secret. Of course, he knew why and it seemed Dumbledore really took Harry for such a naive soul to lay out so obvious clues and expecting Harry to step right into his craftily prepared trap.
As for guards and traps, the key to neutralising Fluffy — that's the name Hagrid chose for a gigantic monstrous beast — was in music. Harry learned what he came here for and after some more awkward exchanges about other magical creatures Hagrid took care of, Harry politely took his leave. He still had homework to do, but not before treating Hedwig, who hooted loudly upon seeing him. Harry patted her feathers with care, admiring how gorgeous she looked.
He wondered if he ever was able to form a Familiar bond with her, it was too early to tell and it was a clear disadvantage that they couldn't communicate directly. Whatever connection Harry formed with Nagini was only possible because they understood each other. Only descendents of Salazar Slytherin possessed the ability to talk to snakes. Was Harry the one himself? Impossible, according to Nagini. To what he owed the gift was unclear, but Harry was glad about it nonetheless. Maybe he should consider acquiring his own snake once Nagini left with Voldemort for good. Harry shook his head, stepping out of the owlery. He didn't have to think about it now.
Severus silently glided through corridors in his usual duty to scare off some kids after curfew, take points and assign detentions. He already caught a couple of Hufflepuffs in a broom closet and a wandering Gryffindor, his mood slightly better than earlier that evening and maybe he could finally have some sleep relishing a sense of satisfaction for a job well done.
As he neared the Slytherin dungeons he heard a soft shuffling and a sudden dread washed over him as he caught sight of an enormous snake slithering through the castle like it owned the place. Severus shook himself out of his stupor, silently following and not daring to throw any hexes at the beast. His instincts were immediately on alert and even in the glimpse of a dark corridor he recognised the snake, like it was fresh from a nightmare. He had no doubt he witnessed this exact snake alongside the Dark Lord all those years ago.
But what is it doing here? Surely, Dumbledore suspected that the Dark Lord might still be alive, hence the whole point of keeping the Stone in Hogwarts to lure him in. It was a dangerous feat considering the castle was full of children and even Snape's dislike for incompetent brats didn't warrant such a drastic measure just for a possibility to catch the Dark Lord, or to confirm his existence, or whatever other side plans Albus had along the lines of encouraging Potter to be a little hero. Severus sneered at the thought. He was terrified of the deadly snake but he would be damned if he allowed it to attack students. So he followed, mildly aware that they were heading in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room and that's where his students were.
He stopped some distance from the snake as it neared the entrance, curious despite his better judgement to see how it would proceed. To his astonishment he heard a hiss and the wall opened as if it was the correct password and the snake slithered through. Severus was determined to stop it now before it reached any of the students, he knew they were supposed to be in their dorms and he could stop her before she moved any further.
A spell ready and his wand drawn… alas, it was already too late to do anything reckless because, naturally, someone was still out of bed. Severus shouldn't be surprised to see none other than Potter but what happened next left him speechless. The snake slithered to the boy with determination and Potter stood there expectantly, holding his hand down in invitation for the snake to go up his shoulders and envelope itself tightly around.
Potter then noticed him and something flashed in his eyes as he started hissing to the snake, their exchange was brief and sharp, and Severus barely contained his sudden shock and fear at the scene. The snake didn't attack the boy, it seemed comfortable all over Potter and Potter didn't seem to mind. And they talked. In Parseltongue. While Avery informed him about Potter's ability to speak Parseltongue, Severus wasn't one to fully believe the information of such magnitude until he saw it with his own eyes. And so now he saw. Nightmares from the past were at the forefront of his mind again and he regained his composure just enough to register the change in Potter's demeanour.
The boy straightened up and observed him imperiously.
"Severus," he intoned all too familiar, "You do remember Nagini, don't you?"
Severus was rooted in place, a chill running down his spine. It was all he could manage not to drop to his knees this instant.
"My Lord," he whispered astounded, it was the only thing his instincts screamed at him to do. A pleased smirk spread on Potter's face at that, and Snape's legs gave in as he lowered himself on one knee in the act of submission.
"I see you didn't forget where your loyalties are." Potter stroked Nagini as he spoke and the snake eyed Severus dangerously. He remained silent. "Although, it makes me wonder how exactly you were able to stay right under Dumbledore's nose without any of his suspicion."
"My Lord, the old fool has his suspicions but I stayed here long enough to lower his guard and gain his trust. I was preparing for your return in case you'd need someone close to the inside information."
Potter's eyes narrowed, "You did well, Severus, but you must understand that I still have my own suspicions."
"Of course, my Lord."
"You have to prove yourself."
Severus looked at the boy not meeting his eyes but noticing a determined and cruel look in those vivid green eyes. He had to catch his breath not to choke at the painful reminder.
"You say no word to Dumbledore or anyone else about our conversion."
Severus knew he had to somehow at least hint to Dumbledore at the turn of events but one more look at Potter and he couldn't help but ask.
"What about the boy?"
Said boy lifted an eyebrow. "What about him?"
Severus didn't know how to ask carefully. He was under the Unbreakable Vow and under the direct gaze of the Dark Lord. His loyalties might once have been to the Dark Lord but never to Dumbledore. Only the Vow kept him in the castle under the twinkling watchful gaze but right now he knew that other possibilities should be taken into consideration and the Vow had nothing to do with Dumbledore. He finally found his voice and spoke.
"What should I say if something were to happen to him?"
Potter observed him thoughtfully for a long stretching moment.
"Nothing is to happen the boy." he eventually said. "Potter is not to be harmed."
"My Lord?" Severus could barely contain his relief.
"We are cooperating. And the old fool must not know."
It was an order and Severus bowed his head, questions reeling inside. Cooperating? Since when? Of course, he saw that Potter acted strangely, not at all the way he expected, sorted into Slytherin and actually capable at Potions, to his dismay. He also had this air about him that spoke of something hidden and dark. Was he alongside the Dark Lord all along or was there even a Potter left inside that body? It was something to ponder over later. For now, he had to reassure his Lord.
"I understand, my Lord. I will see to the boy's safety and will keep Dumbledore unaware."
Potter smiled and the snake lifted her glare from Severus as if satisfied.
"Good. Now, I take it, you have an idea what it is I need to obtain from this school."
"The Philosopher's Stone." it was pointless to consider any of it a secret anymore.
"Indeed. You will help me figure out Dumbledore's defences." he held up his hand to stop Severus from replying. "Not the child's play set up in the corridor. The real one."
As soon as Snape left Harry paled, looking at Nagini with widened eyes. It was Harry's turn to put I told you so expression on his face, only Nagini looked thoroughly amused. Harry pushed himself down on the couch, remaining as calm as possible in the face of this sudden improvisation.
"You know, hatchling, I always admired your acting skills." she hissed and Harry laughed humourlessly, releasing the tension.
"We need to tell him about this first thing in the morning." he declared. At times like this Harry wished he had the ability to move through the castle completely unnoticed. Right now he wouldn't risk getting caught a second time in a row.
He patted Nagini as if calming her down despite her being not fazed in the least and muttered to himself dejectedly, "Let's hope he won't kill me for this."