CHAPTER 5: THE OBSIDIAN THRON

The edifice, no mere dwelling but a colossal mansion, loomed in darkness. Its walls, seemingly hewn from the chilliest stone, wore a stark ebony hue. The sole embellishments were the occasional verdant and silver curtains that adorned select windows, intricately carved and hanging with an air of regality. Safeguarding the premises, an aged iron fence presented itself, resolute in its mission to ward off intruders. A colossal lock, fashioned in the eerie likeness of a human skull, bore a keyhole carved into the pale bone of its forehead. Bellatrix pressed forward with unyielding determination, her swift pace unimpeded, leaving Harry to brace himself for an imminent collision with the imposing barrier. To his astonishment, he seamlessly phased through it, as if the fence were but ephemeral smoke.

The entrance, sensing the approaching presence of Bellatrix, yielded willingly, the doors creaking open of their own accord. Undeterred, Bellatrix entered silently, a hint of hesitance tainting her otherwise resolute demeanor. Navigating a labyrinthine series of twists and turns, she led Harry through a bewildering maze of corridors—left, right, left, left, right—ensuring he was entangled in a spatial web that threatened to confound his sense of direction irreversibly.

Harry, navigating the maze, couldn't help but admire the cunning strategy at play. He cast a wry smile at the animated portraits depicting random scenes that adorned the walls, momentarily distracting him from the intricate dance of shadows.

Coming to a sudden halt before a pair of imposing doors, Bellatrix confronted an ornate spectacle. Thick silver serpents twisted sinuously across the obsidian surface, their hisses resonating with a volatile energy. Periodically, emerald and ruby eyes clashed in ethereal combat, capturing the essence of an arcane struggle.

The colossal doors, moving with a deliberate and ominous silence, began to open. Emerging from the inky depths of the mansion, an immense serpent slithered into view. Its jet-black scales glistened with an otherworldly sheen, as if freshly molted. The intricate markings hinted at a rare python lineage, but the diamond-tipped head bespoke a venomous potency that commanded awe and trepidation. Bellatrix involuntarily caught her breath, her eyes betraying a mixture of fear and reverence. The snake, exhibiting a level of respect that bordered on veneration, suggested it either belonged to an exceptionally powerful individual or was of a breed so rare and perilous as to command universal awe.

In Harry's discerning eyes, the answer to the mysterious snake's allegiance became apparent, settling on option 'B.' As he stepped into the grandiose throne room, his gaze fixated on the man seated at the far end, contemplating him with a calculating scrutiny. The man, engrossed in deep thought, remained oblivious to their presence.

"Master, your followers have returned with a... child," hissed the snake, its feminine tone slicing through the air with a subtle hiss. The man, eyes still closed, suddenly snapped them open, and the piercing ruby red irises caused an involuntary hitch in Harry's breathing. His features were serpent-like, with a nose that resembled a slit, giving him an uncanny snakelike quality. The pale skin took on an almost albino hue under the peculiar lighting.

Gracefully, the exquisite snake slithered up, coiling itself around the man's throne, fixing him with ancient and wise eyes. Despite their mesmerizing allure, the eyes remained lethal, retaining an undeniable air of danger.

"My Lord," Bellatrix murmured, bowing low to the floor. Harry, reluctantly, followed suit, resenting the necessity of bowing to anyone, even those stronger than him.

"Bellatrix, Lucius, you bring a child," the man declared, his statement carrying an unsettling mix of question and affirmation that sent a shiver down their spines. Harry, meeting the man's gaze with an unwavering stare, let his eyes linger on the female serpent. Coils tightened slightly as the snake flicked out her tongue, raising her head to inspect Harry, or more precisely, his upper left arm.

"Master, the hatchling bears the mark of my kind on his high arm," the snake informed, her words resonating with a strange blend of loyalty and authority, casting an enigmatic shadow over the room.

The mention of Coilis and the peculiar mark on Harry's arm instantly captured the man's attention. His gaze lingered on the serpent for a fleeting moment before shifting to Harry, specifically the minuscule bulge on his arm. It was a moment of realization for both Harry and Coilis, who hesitantly relaxed and slid down, conveying an unspoken commitment to protect his newfound master. As Coilis gracefully ascended onto Harry's shoulder, the man's eyes widened ever so slightly, recognizing the elusive breed that Coilis represented.

"I am Harry, and this is Coilis, my familiar," Harry introduced, infusing a note of respect into his voice. Coilis, in response, flicked his tongue out in a gesture of acknowledgment and assessment, scenting the presence of the female snake.

The man, with eyes reminiscent of a serpent's gaze, scrutinized Harry thoroughly, his gaze traveling up and down every feature. A subtle widening of his eyes indicated recognition of Coilis's rare breed.

"A Diamondcross? Interesting..." the man mused, finally shifting his attention directly to Harry.

"Very well, Harry... I am Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin." The revelation hung in the air, and for a moment, Harry's heart ceased its rhythmic beats. The name Voldemort had long been associated with tales of evil, cruelty, and unspeakable crimes. As a child, Harry had been inundated with warnings about the darkness that shrouded Lord Voldemort. Yet, in this moment of direct confrontation, an unexpected calm settled over him.

Voldemort rose, and for an instant, Harry's breath caught in his throat. The specter of Voldemort's infamous reputation loomed large in his mind. However, contrary to the expected fear, Harry found himself strangely unfazed. It wasn't death that he feared, but the prospect of losing all he aspired to achieve. In the face of Voldemort's malevolent presence, an unyielding determination welled up within Harry—a silent declaration that he would not be a mere pawn in the unfolding events.

"If you don't mind me asking, My Lord, what is the name of the beautiful serpent by your side?" Harry inquired, tactfully adding the honorific 'Lord' to avoid stirring any potential displeasure. The question seemed to catch Voldemort off guard, either because people seldom dared to inquire about the snake or perhaps because they feared being devoured by her.

"Her name is Nagini," Voldemort responded, a faint surprise registering in his expression at being asked about his serpentine companion. Nagini, in response to her name, raised her head and emitted a greeting hiss, unaware that Harry possessed the ability to comprehend her language.

"Greetings, hatchling," Nagini hissed, her words carrying an air of unexpected courtesy.

"As to you, Wise Scales," Harry retorted, his own hiss filled with a measured respect, deliberately choosing words that acknowledged Nagini's intelligence. Voldemort, a flicker of something indiscernible passing through his eyes, observed the exchange. Bellatrix, still in her bowing position, allowed a smug smirk to grace her features beneath the curtain of hair.

Nagini, visibly taken aback by the revelation that another could converse in her tongue, displayed a subtle mix of surprise and satisfaction. That a mere child not only understood but reciprocated the compliments known to snakes seemed to leave her intrigued.

"Leave us," Voldemort commanded, his tone brooking no room for dissent. Bellatrix and Lucius promptly turned and exited the throne room, leaving Harry alone in the presence of the Dark Lord. A young boy facing a figure of immense power, the air thick with anticipation and uncertainty—what could possibly go wrong?

"Where do you live?" Voldemort inquired, seamlessly switching to Parseltongue, as if to confirm whether Harry truly spoke the language of serpents. Unperturbed, Harry responded in kind, his ease with the language evident in his fluency.

"An orphanage by the sea. It is destroyed now, thanks to your followers," Harry replied matter-of-factly, his tone devoid of any discernible emotion. Voldemort's gaze narrowed ever so slightly, a subtle desire to test the boy lingering beneath his penetrating gaze.

"Who are your parents?" Voldemort probed further, observing as Harry clenched his fist, a low growl threatening to escape. Coilis, sensing his master's tension, emitted a soft hiss in an attempt to soothe him. Voldemort made a mental note of the boy's connection with the serpent, filing it away for future consideration. He couldn't help but be struck by the uncanny similarities between himself and the defiant young wizard.

"Friends?" Voldemort continued his line of questioning, watching as Harry's response revealed a profound disdain.

"Never! Why should I befriend the weaker when I am so much stronger than them?" Harry retorted sharply. Voldemort, exhaling silently, leaned back against his throne, contemplating the boy before him. The audacity and conviction in Harry's responses intrigued him, prompting deeper consideration about the potential this young wizard held. The wheels of Voldemort's mind turned, scheming and plotting, as he sought to unravel the mysteries surrounding the enigmatic Harry.

Nagini approached Harry with a slow and deliberate grace, her immense form commanding attention. Coilis, though smaller in comparison, coiled slightly tighter around his master at her approach. Despite the size difference, Coilis exhibited unwavering loyalty, refusing to abandon his post on Harry's upper arm.

"You are brave, dark-scales," Nagini noted, her eyes regarding Coilis with a hint of admiration. Coilis, in response, surveyed her with a vigilant intensity, subtly conveying his readiness to defend if the need arose.

"As are you, mighty one," Coilis replied, his words holding a respectful acknowledgment of Nagini's formidable presence. A nuanced expression of annoyance and respect flashed across Nagini's visage. Her tail twitched, and she lowered her head to Coilis's height.

"Agh, do not call me that; it makes me feel glutted. You may call me Nagini; you have proven your respect," she declared. Coilis, seemingly taken aback by the offer, widened his eyes and promptly bowed his head in gratitude. Voldemort, amused by the rare spectacle, observed the exchange. Not every snake earned the respect of Nagini, and this acknowledgment was not lost on him. Meanwhile, Harry watched the interaction, marveling at the fluid grace with which Nagini moved across the ground.

"Nagini, please fetch Bellatrix for me," Voldemort commanded. Without hesitation, Nagini nodded in acknowledgment and swiftly, silently slithered out of the room. Coilis, reassured by her departure, returned to his designated spot on Harry's upper arm, maintaining a vigilant watch over his master.

The door swung open, revealing Bellatrix as she glided into the room, her eyes fixed on Harry. Her lips were slightly bitten, an air of uncertainty surrounding her as she contemplated whether Harry's fate hung in the balance. Voldemort's eyes narrowed, blinking slowly as he regarded Harry once more.

"The boy shall serve a purpose. Take him to a chamber and make him ready for whatever demands I might have," Voldemort commanded with a measured tone.

Bellatrix's eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and devotion, a strangled gasp escaping her lips as she responded, "Yes, my Lord."

Turning swiftly, she seized Harry, her touch surprisingly gentle, and led him out of the grand Throne room. Through the labyrinthine and disorienting corridors that sprawled across the manor, Bellatrix maintained a brisk pace. Eventually releasing her grip, Coilis, a faithful follower, held on tightly as Harry quickened his pace to match the woman's rapid strides.

At last, Bellatrix slid open an ominous black door, revealing a passage adorned with a tapestry depicting a rattlesnake sinking its fangs into a tempting apple.

"A hatchling! Aye, a hatchling I see!" hissed a voice eagerly from the tapestry, abandoning a sickly yellow apple filled with venom. Both Harry and Coilis disregarded the serpentine commentary and proceeded into the room where Bellatrix had vanished.

Harry's eyes widened in astonishment as he took in the surroundings. His mouth hung slightly ajar, a gasp of shock trapped on his lips. Bellatrix, perched on the stairs leading to what Harry presumed was his designated chamber, couldn't help but snicker at his reaction.

The chamber, which Harry struggled to define as anything less than a common room, rivaled the size of the mess hall at the orphanage. Soft silver hues intertwined with deep greens, creating a peculiar yet elegant amalgamation of colors. Sinuous obsidian steps ascended to a door adorned with a simple yet opulent handle, its golden surface trimmed in black. On the ground floor, a room to the left housed what could only be described as a luxurious bathroom or, more aptly, a spa.

"What? Not accustomed to a standard room?" Bellatrix chuckled at the astonishment etched across Harry's face. Swiftly regaining control over his countenance, Harry concealed any unintended emotions.

"Well, you'd be just as shocked if your living quarters were the size of a cupboard here," he retorted casually.

Bellatrix fell silent, refraining from hurling back a retort for once. "Call for the House Elves when you desire sustenance, command them as you wish. They're indifferent," she drawled, feigning nonchalance toward the well-being of these magical creatures. Harry, too, harbored no particular affection for them, but he noticed a glint of concern in Bellatrix's eyes.

"Why do you care?" Harry inquired, adopting a tone as indifferent as discussing the weather. The question caught Bellatrix off guard, her eyes widening almost comically. Coilis released his grip, slithering to the floor to explore the vicinity.

"The orphanage... nobody cared... why do you?" Harry rephrased the question, fixing Bellatrix with an unblinking gaze. She looked at him with a touch of sadness, offering a soft smile.

"I can't have children," she confided, and with that, she turned and exited the room, closing the door behind her, leaving Harry slightly taken aback.

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