Chapter Text
Serpent’s Ascending
Chapter 1
Hollows Meeting
Harry was only seven years old when he found the snake-boy. It was during recess at this school, St. Gregory’s Primary School, and Harry have managed to sneak out of the playground, hopping over the fence both to explore and to get away from his cousin.
It was easy for young Harry to do so. Being small for his age, Harry was able to crawl into places that others cannot reach or generally overlook. In general, Harry was always being overlooked. He always wore clothes that were two sizes too big for him, all second-hand from his cousin of course, and his green eyes were hidden behind round glasses that were big on his head. He was teased for this when people noticed him, but mostly they left him alone. Which he was fine with.
Really.
Sure, there were times where Harry was lonely and wished that he had a friend. The kids at school avoid him because everyone knows that he’s his cousin Dudley’s punching bag. And anyone who tried to even talk with Harry would quickly earn Dudley and his friends’ wrath, so no one even tries. Besides, bullying Harry is so much more fun than getting bullied with Harry.
So here he was, alone, with no friends, wandering the small field around his school. He didn’t mind it really. Harry was lonely, yeah, he desperately wanted a friend, but being alone was better than being chased by Dudley and his friends.
With a heavy sigh, he fell on his back and just stared upwards, watching the clouds peacefully drift on by across the light-blue sky, oblivious to the troubles that went on in the young boy’s mind. Harry found his mind slowing along with the clouds, humming strangely contently as he lost track of time. Nobody bothered him, nobody really looked for him. Before Harry knew it, he heard his teacher calling for them to come inside. He did not really want to leave, too relaxed and content in his spot, but he knew that if he didn’t go, then that would only lead to more trouble. “I really don’t wanna,” Harry groaned as he pushed himself to his feet.
He dusted off his pants and turned to look at the field. It was quiet, very quiet, and peaceful with grass that came to his ankles. He hummed to himself and turned to leave.
Rustle, Rustle.
Harry stopped and turned swiftly. “Hello? Anyone there?” he asked. The sounds he heard stopped immediately and he squinted his eyes, doing his best to try and see what was making the sound. All he could see was the green grass. He frowned and crossed his arms, “Weird,” he muttered.
“POTTER! WHERE ARE YOU!?”
Harry jumped at the voice and turned quickly, running back to the fence, “Coming Mrs. Thorn!” he yelled, climbing the fence just as easily, as though the fence was really moving by itself. He landed back in the playground and ran, oblivious to the red eyes that followed him.
The rest of the day went by rather boring for Harry. He just sat in the back of his class, pushing his broken glasses, held only by tape, up to his face every now and again when it started to slip off. He really wanted to just be out of school. Not home, Harry hated being there, but rather outside where he’s not at school or his cousin’s house. He could barely pay attention really. He sat in the back of the classroom, Mrs. Thorn refusing to let him sit closer to the board, so he was stuck between two of Dudley’s friends: Piers and Gordon. The two were the worst, they kept throwing paper and whatever they could get at Harry, sometimes even throwing pictures with rude things at him. They would also steal his notebooks and draw horrible things as well, things that made Harry go cold even thinking about.
However, the strangest part of the rest of the day was that Harry felt like he was being watched. It wasn’t a strange feeling. It didn’t feel like someone was glaring at him or staring at him as though they were planning on giving him a wedgie, those kinds of looks tended to cause an itch on the back of his neck. This was different, a strange different that Harry did not even know how to feel about. He looked around his class to see that nobody was looking at him, not even Piers and Gordon strangely enough. His eyes drifted towards the window, again seeing nothing out of the ordinary. So he just went on with his day, doing his best to ignore the strange feeling.
The second the bell rang for dismissal, Harry ran out. He has only gotten to the school’s gate before he was suddenly jerked back and fell on his butt. “What’s wrong cousin? Don’t want to play?” a voice asked mockingly.
Harry looked up to see, much to his displeasure, his cousin Dudley Dursley looking down at him. Dudley was a fat kid with short hair and a rotten attitude. His friends were on either side of him, all looking down at Harry with similar looks. “Come on Harry, I want to play Harry Chase.” He raised his fist to punch Harry, but the smaller boy moved on instinct. He rolled to his feet and ran away as fast as he could. “Get him!” Dudley yelled, his friends all whooping and screaming with glee as they all chased Harry. It was their favorite pastime. They all could hurt Harry easily and did whenever they cornered him, but Harry was always faster than them. He ran around the school and jumped the fence, feeling shocked that he was able to jump over the huge fence in one leap. He ran across the field and looked back over his shoulder. He could see Dudley and his gang struggling to get over the fence and kept on running. He did not stop until he was long gone from school, heading towards the house where he lives, Number 4 Privet Drive. He still felt like he was being looked at but pushed that feeling away.
Harry only stopped when he reached the front door and looked around. Dudley was nowhere to be seen, however, there was something that he never saw before. Across the street staring straight at him was a boy he never saw before. The boy looked to be a couple of years older than him with pale, smooth skin, neat black hair, and, strangest of all, red eyes. The boy stared at Harry unemotionally and unblinking. Harry was caught in his gaze, just standing on the doorstep of his house as he stared back at the boy. He wanted to go to him, to introduce himself and ask all about him. It’ll be pointless, Dudley will just tell him how much of a freak I am and he’ll never be friends with me, he thought miserably. But still, the want to go to him was there, and never went away.
“Harry! There you are!”
Harry was snapped out of whatever gaze he was in and looked around. Dudley was barreling after him, smirking at Harry as he grabbed the boy and threw him with all of his strength off of the doorsteps, into the rosebushes on the sides of the house. Dudley laughed as Harry screamed in pain and shock, tumbling, and rolling out, his clothes getting messier in the process. He stumbled to his feet just as Dudley walked into the house, slamming the door after him. Harry’s eyes immediately went to across the street only to find that the strange boy was gone! He felt disappointed but shook his head. He might as well just go inside.
“You’re late boy,” was how Uncle Vernon greeted him.
“I’m sorry Uncle Vernon,” Harry said meekly as the shadow of Uncle Vernon fell over him. He was a large man with a walrus mustache and thick fingers. Harry yelped when a sudden sting of pain slapped his cheeks. His eyes watered from the slap, but he continued to stand. “Go outside and do your chores, boy, before I take away your dinner,” Uncle Vernon said.
“Yes Uncle Vernon,” Harry answered. Uncle Vernon gave him another slap, just for good measure, and returned to the living room. Harry turned around and walked outside. He bent in front of the flowerbed and started weeding it, pulling out anything “wild” that his Aunt Petunia does not want in her garden. In Harry’s opinion, it was a rather boring garden, Aunt Petunia only grew ordinary flowers in plainly ordinary flowers. Sometimes weeds popped up, as well as mixed flowers that Aunt Petunia hated with a passion. So she had Harry go out every day and make sure that nothing undesirable was growing.
It was hard work for Harry. The Dursleys refuse to give him gloves for this, so he regularly got cuts on his hands, which only got him into more trouble for “bleeding on your aunt’s lovely flowers” earning him either no dinner or more slaps from his uncle. Miraculously, however, all of his cuts would disappear by the next day, and his hands would be as smooth as ever. He was pulling a particularly good looking flower that was a mixture of purple and yellow when movement caused him to stop.
Red eyes were staring at Harry, and Harry stared back, his hand frozen mid-pull as he followed the eyes and saw the body that was connected to them. It was a snake, a rather large snake, with dark green scales. Harry and the snake continued to stare at each other, his arm starting to hurt a little for holding the pose for so long. Then, surprisingly, the snake talked.
“To think that Potter would so easy to find.”
“I’m sorry, you know my name?” Harry asked. He pulled the flower out and quickly dropped it, turning his full attention to the snake. “My name is Harry; how did you learn my last name?”
The snake blinked at Harry, as though surprised that he even talked back to him. “Interesting,” the snake hissed. “Why wouldn’t I know your name, Harry Potter? After all you have done…”
“All I’ve done? I haven’t done anything!” Harry said, panicking. “I don’t know how I got onto the chimneys or how Mrs. Thorn’s wig turned blue! I swear!”
The snake turned his head to the side, “No you ignorant boy, do you know nothing about what you have done? What your parents have done? How they died?”
Harry frowned, “They died in a car crash, Uncle Vernon told me that they were both drunk with me in the car.”
“A car crash! That they would lie as such! To you of all people, what is that old man thinking?” the snake muttered. Harry frowned. He fell so he was laying on his stomach, his feet kicked up into the air as he rested his head on his hands.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about Mr. Snake,” he said.
“Mr. Snake—the nerve. Boy, you do not know whose presence you’re in? I am Lord Voldemort!” the snake proclaimed. Harry stared at the snake for a moment confused.
His cheeks tinted red and he said embarrassed, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are Lord Voldemort. But it’s nice to meet you.”
“BOY! STOP LOAFING AROUND AND DO SOME WORK!” Uncle Vernon’s voice yelled through the walls. Harry flinched and gave out a small fearful noise. The snake named Voldemort looked at Harry for a moment then back at the house before turning to Harry, slithering closer.
“To think that a wizard would be fearful of a muggle,” Voldemort muttered, “Is that a handprint on your cheek?”
“I’m—I’m sorry, I have to go,” Harry said suddenly, sniffling. “I—I have to—”
“You will do no such thing, not yet, Harry,” Voldemort said. He stared at Harry, as though the snake was figuring something important out. “To think that the old fool would send him here of all places to be abused and ignorant.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry said again, getting the snake’s attention.
“You will never apologize to me, Harry. Never apologize for what muggles have done,” the snake said.
Harry did not know what muggles were, but he did not want to anger the snake, so he just nodded. He glanced at the house, then back at the snake. “Okay, I won’t, but I need to go now, or I won’t get any dinner again.”
“Again? What do you mean by that Potter?”
Harry squirmed uncomfortably. He looked around, as though to make sure nobody was listening in, before leaning towards Voldemort. “Please promise me that you won’t tell anyone,” he said, sounding completely afraid. The snake nodded and Harry said, “I hate it here. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always blame me for everything, even things that Dudley did! They would give me chores but nothing to do them with, and after I’m done they would lock me up in my ‘room’ which is just a cupboard under the stairs. There are a lot of times where they just send me with no dinner. And more times when they hit me.”
“That is completely unacceptable! To think that Dumbledore would allow this—it puts to shame anything I have done,” Voldemort muttered. “You do not deserve to live like this, Harry Potter. I may not be able to spirit you away now, I am too weak to do so, even my glamour to get your attention drained me more energy than what I have nowadays, but I will keep an eye on you, Harry. There are many things that you should know but do not. I will teach all of it to you.”
Harry only looked at the snake, deeply confused. “Wait so that means…” he looked over his shoulder, staring at the sidewalk on the other side of the road, and gasped, “you’re that boy I saw!”
Voldemort nodded. “I am indeed. Now go, I will watch you and take care of you young Harry.”
“Oh… okay,” Harry said. He looked hesitant but he smiled down at the snake. “I’m happy to have met you Lord Voldemort and thank you.”
The Dark Lord just nodded and watched the young Potter get up and run back into the dreadful house. This was not his plan, none of it actually. Ever since that Halloween six years ago, the Dark Lord has lost his body and power. Surviving only on the faintest remains of his magic. He was less than a wraith and has spent five years wandering aimlessly, barely conscious of the world around him. His power returned marginally, he was far from his full power, what he had now was laughable, but it was enough for Voldemort to be aware of his surroundings and develop a form for he can travel. It was tiresome work, he felt constantly tired and still had to turn back into the misty wraith that he has been for five years, but at least now he was aware, now he could plan.
Seeing Potter so vulnerable in that muggle school was a lucky coincidence. An easy target for Voldemort to kill, once and for all, but just like a snake he wanted to observe, to play with his prey. So he watched the boy all day as he lounged in the fields. Then he returned to school and, much to Voldemort’s amazement, the boy seemed to already have a control over his accidental magic! Climbing and jumping over the fence so easily, as if it was barely a thought. Surely, Voldemort thought, Potter must live in some guarded place, trained, and protected by the strongest of wizards who were foolish enough to oppose him.
However, that seemed to be furthest from the truth. He continued to watch Potter and was shocked to see the boy bullied by common muggles, fearing these muggles even, and running away instead of fighting back as Voldemort assumed from the blasted boy. But no, he ran and only suffered more. First, from that pig, he called a cousin, and then from that walrus of a man he was forced to call his uncle. There were no trainers, no guards teaching and serving Harry Potter, only abuse, and the heavy melancholy radiating from the cupboard. Voldemort watched helplessly as an invisible mist as the muggles continued to hurt Potter. Slapping and kicking the child for any inconvenience, making him cook their dinner, and throwing him away into the cupboard with only scraps to eat.
He was no prince lounging in silks, but a boy, hurt and alone in the dark. Voldemort floated towards him and watched as Potter cried himself to sleep, listening to every painful moan and unanswered plea for help. THIS was how the great Albus Dumbledore treated the wizarding world’s savor? Leaving him in an unloved home with muggles? Not telling him even a hint of who the boy truly is, or how his parents died?
Completely unacceptable, Voldemort thought. He came here to kill his adversary but saw that the muggles would do his job for him. He should be happy with that, relieved that he did not need to do a thing in his weakened state, however for some strange reason he could not. As he listened to the boy earlier that day, and now as he watched him sleep, Voldemort could not deny what he sensed in the boy. There was a darkness there, small, and untamed but growing every day as his hatred for his muggles grew. A darkness that would lead to powerful things if he had the right mentor.
Voldemort chuckled as his plan started to form in his mind. He stared at Harry and watched him for a moment. “Albus, you old fool, look at what you have created,” he chuckled. “The Potter boy alone and unloved, but do not worry, I will take good care of the boy. You won’t ever have a lonely day anymore Harry… for now, you are mine.”