in the eye of the snake (And I hold my breath 10)

Summary: Tom goes after a voice in the dark to meet Nagini, but Nagini isn't alone. Harry dreams in the eye of the snake.

( First Chapter )  | Previous: Riddle's Secret

Chapter 10: in the eye of the snake

(Tom)

The corridor stretched before me, sending back strange echoes from seemingly every nook and cranny. But one noise stood out from the rest-- footsteps. I paused to make sure, and sure enough, I heard them. The faintest trace of whoever was trailing me.

Whoever it was didn't follow so cleverly either-- they barely waited for me to clear the corner before opening the portrait again.

There was a muttered flurry of words as the culprit cast a stealth spell over their feet to soften the tread, but nothing to muffle the swishing of his or her robes.

One student. Not so clever.

Carefully, I listened for sounds of others in the castle. Anyone near enough to confuse my pursuer. I needed to meet Voldemort's messengers without an audience.

I conjured a rock, and levitated it up the stairs, hoping that the foolish Slytherin would mistake the noise for my own footsteps.

“What the-- what's this?”

“You don't suppose...”

“I do, brother,” I recognized the voices of the Weasley twins. They quickly hushed one another. I stayed back, watching my handiwork.

Aha. It was the Malfoy boy. How sneaky he probably imagined himself, and yet how simple it was to trap him.　Malfoy scurried by on silent feet, but the Weasley twins were wiser; his furtive glances wouldn't catch them until it was too late.

“Got ‘im!” one gloated. I thought it might be Fred; he was the louder one.

“Well, if it isn't Mister Malfoy...” George laughed outright. “What are you doing in the halls, without your gorilla bodyguards?”

Malfoy, I saw, edging to the right so that I could see a shadow on the wall-- was caught in some sort of magical rope trap. The first twin said a spell to further bind his legs, and Malfoy spat out a furious howl of complaint. The tickling curse, which had enjoyed a revival among the upper year students after one Harry Potter used it on Lockhart in class, echoed after me, and Malfoy laughed hysterically. Who would have guessed he was so ticklish.

I resolved to take another set of stairs.

Come, the voice called, and I heeded.

“We will talk within the castle walls, servant. I cannot risk being caught outdoors once more.” I cautioned. “Meet me in a private place, free from students and teachers, but not the Chamber... follow me.” I suggested.

The voice urged me on, leading me to a place closer and closer to Myrtle's bathroom, and the entrance to the Chamber. All the while, I attempted to　move us to an empty classroom.

I finally caught sight of the snake-- it was huge in comparison to any snake I'd known in my childhood, and its green scales practically glistened with magic. I watched it intently—especially the business-end with all the teeth.

Then something strange happened. It was rather like noticing my surroundings for the first time; oddly aware of as far as my vision spread, and more, I could feel a keen eye on me. The back of my neck prickled with the sensation. There was the sound of glass breaking-- thick shards of it flying forward as though making an all-new storm. I shielded my eyes with my arms just as something hit me. I staggered, tried to duck.
I had my wand out, shouting “Stupefy!”

Feathers. Wings closed in around me-- and sharp talons bit into my shoulder. The spell had no effect. I followed swiftly with a Dark Arts defensive spell.

But it was hard to take aim when the target was directly behind-- the weight lifted off my feet. I realized, shocked, that I was being taken away.

I screamed a curse, no longer caring if another student heard. The beast which held me felt strange-- a sort of bloodcurdling, repulsive pull that set my teeth on edge. Its arms were coarse and thick, like a wild animal's hide. And yet the wings were dark, charcoal black. I found that if I leaned back even a little, a feather would cut my cheek on its edge.

I stared into its beady red eyes, and felt a foreboding sense of recognition. I opened my mouth to speak, but the beast brutally rammed me into the wall. With the collision, I saw white—

--and then nothing at all.

Not long after dinner, Harry Potter antagonized his housemates, trying to find someone-- anyone-- willing to listen to his suspicions about Voldemort. Harry sat down next to Neville on the sofa. His usual targets, Ron and Hermione, had disappeared to do other things, and so he was left with the Marauder's Map tucked under a bit of homework, occasionally glancing at it surreptitiously as Neville tried to talk Ginny out of doing something-or-other.

“We can teach ourselves. All we need is a place to practice... With some actual practical practice, we stand a chance,” Ginny was saying.

“I don't know... I'll come for sure when we have a place, but you probably shouldn't attach my name to it or anything... Really, I think Harry would be a good leader...” Neville chewed his lip.

Harry looked up when his name was mentioned.

“We can take turns teaching-- whoever is good at a spell can take a turn teaching everyone else. I bet there's some spell you could show all of us...” Ginny said this last part hesitantly, as though even she weren't sure if it was true. She pulled absently at the corner of her robes.

“Not everyone is cut out for teaching.” Neville insisted quietly.

Harry added, “They say that you remember things better if you teach it. Not sure who 'they' are, though…” He watched the names on the map move about the castle, the stragglers finally leaving the Great Hall. Even the library occupants seemed to be making their ways to where Harry assumed the other three common rooms were.

Ginny shook her head impatiently. “This isn't about who’s good at teaching. It's about sharing information. We could muddle through, I'm sure.” She insisted. “I mean, what do we need a leader for anyway?”

Harry flipped to the Ravenclaw tower. “Did Luna find her mulberry worms, by the way? Silk worms, I mean."

Ginny gave him an exasperated look. “She mentioned something about them, yes, but I don't know if she's keeping it. She could just be watching it.” Then she turned back to Neville. “For example, I'm good at hexes, and you're good at...at persevering. Or something.”

Harry grinned at that from behind his parchment. Neville sighed, but said nothing to defend his honor. Apparently he didn't think tending various plants to be useful in a DADA club. Harry decided to save him from replying. “Riddle is in the Slytherin common room.” he announced.

Neville groaned quietly. “Riddle again.”

“Yup. Riddle. Do you think he's here on a secret mission?”

Ginny looked both exasperated by his word choice and pleased to be included on a conversation that'd normally be between Harry and his two best friends. “You mean, what do you think his objective is?”

“Voldemort is looking for a weapon.” He insisted. At Neville's alarmed expression, he quickly explained. “Obviously. There aren't enough people who would follow him openly, so he needs to show he's not a half-dead ghost. Or at the very least, that he's got a trump card. Aside from himself... having been given a new body last May...”

He peeked at Tom's name again. The little black dot was still stubbornly sitting still.

“You don't think there's something here at Hogwarts.” Ginny asked.

“There was my first year-- the Philosopher's Stone.” Harry explained.

Neville looked doubtful. “Not this year, though. Not with Umbridge in and out of the castle.”

“Maybe he's here as a distraction.” Harry admitted finally. “Maybe the door has more to do with the weapon than...than whatever else.”

Neville and Ginny exchanged glances.

Ginny gave him another impatient look that rather reminded Harry of Molly Weasley. “That's good. So. Back to what I was saying...we need space to practice. Any ideas?”

Harry let their voices slide over him, and drew his legs up and under. It wouldn't be hard to nap at all. He only had to...relax…Harry fell into a light sleep, and gradually a deeper one.
His dreams began to replay his first two weeks back in Hogwarts, showing him Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna, all sitting around the Gryffindor common room. Their hearts were beautiful and bare on chests, a golden light encompassing the red organ. Every time Harry opened his mouth, his words took form—strange, misshapen things that shot out like hammers.

Ginny and Luna held up a mirror for Harry to see and began talking to his reflection. “You’re old Harry.” They told the mirror. “You used to be like this.”

“But I’m not.” said the-Harry-who-stood, ignored-before-them. But the mirror only grinned.

“You used to give us loads of things. Sweets, Omnioculars, and adventures. Why can’t you anymore?”

“If you don’t give them back the old Harry,” Fred and George stepped up beside him. The other twin picked up from there, “they might transfer to Slytherin.”

“Or worse.” Fred looked serious. “They might transfer you to Slytherin.”

“But Luna isn’t even in Gryffindor.” Harry started to say, and their faces all swirled together to become the teachers’ faces. Snape, Lockhart, and Umbridge. Then they swirled together again, and the dream changed.

…the dream changed…

Harry slithered, his belly pressed tight against the pipes. He bent and twisted through the narrow passageways. The pipes were cold against his skin, uncomfortable, and there were many warm bodies not far beneath him. But he must stay hidden—he had important work to do.
Come. he demanded. It walked slowly, carefully. Come, child. We mussst return. Harry paused, waiting impatiently for It to come, but still It lingered.

At last, Harry emerged from the pipes, and he smelled danger on the air—familiar, yet rank with consumption. Harry paused, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth. Harry waited, confused. Did he know it? He might…

It too called out. A Speaker of the tongue…a parselmouth.

Suddenly, Harry realized it was wrong—all wrong. Ssstop. Come with me. Quietly, through the dark place. But the foolish Child-It took one step too many, and it was overtaken. It crumpled like prey whose neck had been snapped. No. It was no longer moving, no longer seeking Harry out. Harry slithered toward the opening, his powerful coils propelling him out. He reached, snapped at the ends of the Other, and called one last time to It.

Harry’s head hurt. His scar hurt. It was all-consuming, radiating from one point; he couldn’t forget, but he couldn’t concentrate either.

“Harry!”

His head. Hurt.

“Are you all right?” Neville was inches from Harry, his face a caricature of worry. “You were yelling.”

“I saw—” Harry gasped the words out, but then stopped. What had he seen? His eyes whirled about the common room, searching the faces there. Most were turned to him, staring openly. Some whispered. Others glared. He sprang to his feet as the door opened.

“Guess who we found!” Fred Weasley crowed as he ducked through the portrait hole.

“Tom Riddle.” Harry gasped. “Something’s attacked him.”

“What?” A beat. “No, it wasn’t Riddle. Little Malfoy, going up the stairs, chasing a rock…”

“We got him gooood.” Fred laughed. “Anyone fancy taking a stone for a walk?” His twin pulled a face, and a few people gave weak laughs, but most still looked at Harry.

“I saw him.” Harry said. “Something attacked him.”

“Nope.” George grinned. “Definitely Malfoy. And you weren’t there!” He took a few steps forward, hands clasping Harry on the shoulder and the other’s ruffling his hair before Harry ducked out of his grip and out of reach of the older Weasley—a skill born of evading Dudley for fifteen years.

“He’s really didn’t appreciate our Tickling Hex.” Fred announced to the room at large, smoothly covering Harry’s retreat. Harry was halfway to the portrait hole before anyone started to move after him.

Harry’s speed was unmatched as he propelled himself carelessly down the corridor. The snake. Voldemort’s snake. He used Knock-Back spells to clear an unfamiliar prefect out of his way as he careened through the Castle. “No time. No time!” Harry muttered.

“Harry!” Ginny shouted after him.

There. Too late, too late. It’s got to be flying away by now. “Accio Firebolt!” His broom flew down from his dormitory and through the hall until it matched his pace. Harry leapt astride it.

Then there it was. The huge snake, glistening green in his eyes and larger than it had any right to be, snapped at the talons of a monster. He pulled out his wand, fired a “Stupefy!” at it, but he was much too far away. Instead, he gave away his position, and the gigantic snake slithered impossibly fast back into the pipes. Of course, the pipes. But Harry couldn’t worry about the snake. He had to catch the beast—the thing flying.

Ginny was on the stairs, leaning precariously out a window to get a look at the figure in the dim light. She aimed with her whole body, throwing herself into a spell that shot through the night. It ricocheted off the walls and toward the very spot the snake disappeared into. Pretty. Like a bolt of lightning or a leaping spider, but Harry couldn’t follow that thought.

“The snake’s gone.” Harry told her. “There’s something else—something outside. That snake. She’s Voldemort’s. The other thing? They didn’t come together, but it’s like…it’s like Voldemort.” He raced to get the words out, to make her understand, to somehow simplify the message that was hidden in the vision. Harry still felt half snake, and wondered if she wasn’t understanding because he was somehow speaking Parseltongue and not English. Too late, too late.

But it wasn’t too late. Outside the window, a brilliant light filled the sky. Harry leaped onto his Firebolt once more. He fell through the air for full seconds, before pulling up just as he saw Riddle holding a wand—holding a wand! But it wasn’t the twin wand, Harry knew in an instant.

Everything seemed so much simpler with that revelation. Voldemort’s creature was trying to take Tom away. Tom who had a different wand, and so could not be Voldemort. Harry felt a sudden kinship with Tom, as though they had shared an experience in the graveyard. Now he too had been stolen away, like a child from a fairy tale. But of course, that was ridiculous. Tom wasn’t even in the castle during the Tasks.

Riddle screamed himself hoarse, doing something to tear his hands. It was to no avail, tho, and he was borne farther away. The castle seemed alive; the Whomping Willow swayed in an unnatural way, and the wind seemed like a gale. Strange singing voices; a host on the air called out to him. Remember the words you and I spoke down in the meadow by the world’s end. He thought. (*1)

Harry was close enough to see the Beast now. It was a huge, hulking thing—more bestial than humanoid, though it had arms. Its wings were gray, and it seemed like a figure and Hippogryph hybrid. But the human part was bloated past recognition, and its red beady eyes reminded him only of one person’s.

“I know you.” He said to it, and the wind carried his words.

“Harry Potter.” It replied, and a terrible pitiless smile overtook it. The beast slouches toward Bethlehem, Harry thought. (*2)

Harry held his wand aloft, but before he uttered a single spell, the Beast moved.It dropped Riddle, who cast a cushioning charm as he fell from deadly heights.

Near the forest at the edge of his sight, there was something down below, toward the wavering forest that edged in on his sight. It whispered. What was it? The beast answered some unnatural call, and fairly danced away as though led on by the Pied Piper. Then Harry saw him; the skeletally thin, pale figure of Voldemort, bathed in moonlight and hidden among the trees. He was gone in an instant, so quickly that Harry doubted that he’d ever been there at all.

Harry was torn; should he find Tom and retreat, or chase after and—and what? Duel him again? His thoughts raced again, individual words fluttering like leaves and leaving him nothing to say. Fortunately there was no one to talk to anyway.

Behind him, a deep and powerful voice was calling out from Hogwarts—Dumbledore, aglow in light and compassion—but there was no easily understood spell. Harry saw no moving gargoyles (for there was no need), no air cast into flames, for Tom Riddle was safely on the ground, hurrying further into the shadow of the castle.

It was then Harry saw the faces of many curious students staring out the window. He maneuvered his broom toward Tom. He dove fast enough to make his skin prickle and senses soar—and he caught up with the boy. Tom Riddle only scowled in his face. Harry smiled at that.

They walked the last of the distance together.

In front of them, Snape held his wand tightly, his expression unreadable. He ushered them in with a quiet, “Inside. Now.” He was about to slam the door shut.

“Wait, Severus!” someone squeaked. Panic edged Professor Lockhart’s bright tones, and Snape rolled his eyes but stilled his hands. Lockhart rushed inside and pulled at his robes to straighten them. “Just in from the forest.” He gasped as Harry and Tom stared at him.

“You?” Harry asked, incredulous. The forest—that’s where Voldemort was. “But you aren’t a--”

Lockhart drew himself up. “Yes! I bravely fought off the strange and compelling beasties, and with just the right combination of spells, I swept the Kindly Ones from the trees!” He laughed, but the sound was nervous.

“Not an owl or a pigeon.” Harry concluded.

Snape eyed Lockhart disdainfully. “Did you.” This time he did slam the door, and no one else so much as looked at the blond professor.

“We need to sweep the forest!” Professor McGonagall said crisply. “Riddle is saying that some Dark Wizards nearly swept him off the grounds.” She sniffed.

Snape’s hands closed around both boys’ shoulders. Harry wasn’t sure if it was to usher them in or frighten them. “All students to bed. It’s past time for them to be in their common rooms.”

McGonagall nodded tersely. Behind her, more professors made their way around Tom and Harry, and finally, Harry saw him. Professor Dumbledore had come down the far stairs, and he was smiling gently over his half-moon glasses. He didn’t meet Harry’s eyes.

Harry thought, inexplicably, of his dream. His friends would look at the mirror him, but not the real Harry before them.

“Ah yes, I will send them to bed. As soon as we have a word. Harry? Mr. Riddle? If you would.” Professor Dumbledore asked serenely.

They followed him up the stairs, and Harry thought again of Child Roland as he looked at Tom by his side. Without a word more, Child Roland out with his good brand, and off went his head.

“What have you come to Hogwarts for?” Harry asked, brushing the fairy tale aside. “Why, when Voldemort obviously wants you elsewhere?”

Tom gave a show of contempt, but his eyes were too wide for it to be successful. “Into the tower we go, brave Child Harry.” He said softly, and Harry was startled to think that Tom knew his mind. “We’ve got a Wizard to listen to first.”