A Snake Named Voldemort

Chapter 4

:I'm covered in bird crap,: Harry observed, pulling on the sleeve of his robe. :You're pretty dirty too. Fancy a shower?:

:Not with you.:

:Ah, I wasn't really planning on it.: For some reason, Harry blushed.

Back in the dorms, Harry tossed his dirty outer clothing into the laundry chute, knowing the House Elves would take care of it. Luckily he hadn't met many people on the walk back, and none of them were bothered enough to ask why he looked like he rolled on the floor of the Owlery. Of course, his answer would have been, "Because I did," but Harry suspected that would have labeled him even more of a nutter than he already was.

'Thank goodness no one asked,' Harry thought with a shake of his head.

From his trunk, Harry withdrew his shower toiletries before he and Voldemort made their way to the bathroom. He placed his things by an empty stall and then walked over to the one next to it, turning it on.

:I'll scrub you down and you can rinse off yourself. I'll leave a towel in the corner so you can lay on it and dry a bit while the shower is still running. I think the steam will do you some good, as your body has had a bit of a shock today.:

:How thoughtful of you,: was the snarky reply.

:Yeah, yeah, you're welcome,: Harry grumbled, pulling the ungrateful menace off his shoulders and coiled him around one arm before holding him out underneath the warm water of the shower. Voldemort acted very curiously, lifting his head up and placing it right in the spray, appearing to enjoy the hot water running down his scales. Harry bit his lip, trying not to smile at the sight. Who knew the Dark Lord could enjoy something as simple as a hot shower?

Harry took some of his shower gel in his free hand, hoping it was mild enough so as not to irritate Voldemort's skin, and squeezed some onto Voldemort's long back. Hesitating as he wondered about the strangeness of the situation, he set the shower gel down and used the once again free hand to scrub the soap into Voldemort's scales. He took care to clean all the bird droppings he could see, gently scrubbing at one spot under the snake's chin. Voldemort took that time to speak up.

:We will never speak of this. Ever.:

Harry made a choking sound and grimaced.

:Believe me, I won't say a word.:

After thoroughly scrubbing down the Dark Lord so he was covered in lather, Harry placed him down on the tiles so he could rinse off. As promised, he place a towel in a corner the shower spray did not directly hit before shutting the curtain and moving on to taking care of his own shower. The water was set to turn off in a few minutes, so he didn't have to worry about turning it off himself before he was through.

Taking off the rest of his soiled clothes, he shut the curtain and turned on the water. His reaction was very similar to Voldemort's as he let the water, magically set at the perfect temperature, spray down on his face. He brushed back his wet fringe and set to scrubbing himself down. Next to his stall, he heard it when Voldemort's shower turned off.

Harry was just getting to his hair when he heard someone come in to the bathroom and drop something on the floor. He had finished rinsing when he heard the scream.

"Argh, what the-!" A loud crash followed. Harry threw open his curtain and stepped out, praying to whomever would listen that he didn't have to face some sort of unknown enemy starkers.

"Ron, what are you doing?"

A pale faced, naked Ron lay sprawled on the floor, a towel precariously covering his lap. The items of his toiletry bag he had presumably tripped over were scattered around him, and he was pointing at the stall next to Harry's with a trembling finger.

"Th-there's a snake in there!"

Harry tried, he really did, but he couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled from his chest. Voldemort took that moment to slither from the stall and into view, where he rose up and eyed the fallen boy with what could only be amusement. That evil bastard loved it when he intimidated people, Harry knew. At this particular instance, however, Harry found he could enjoy it too and continued to laugh. Voldemort glanced at him.

:Potter, please cover yourself. That is entirely too much of what I ever wish to see of my enemy.:

Blushing furiously, Harry grabbed his towel, grumbling, :Then why aren't you looking away?: That seemed to catch Voldemort off guard and he twitched violently as he looked back to the fallen Ron. Still blushing, Harry wrapped his towel around his waist.

"It's ok, Ron, he was just taking a shower. He's done now, as you can see."

Ron sputtered, incredulous. "'He was just taking a shower'? Are you bloody serious, Harry?"

Harry shrugged, still reveling in Ron's bewildered disbelief. "He was dirty."

Ron shakily crawled to his feet. "I don't bloody believe you. Warn a guy next time your snake wants a shower, will ya?"

Harry laughed again, picking Voldemort up from the floor. "I promise."

Ron sighed in relief. "Good. And, uh, don't tell Hermione? She'll have a field day with that one."

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me.

"Thanks, mate."

"Not a problem." Harry had gathered his toiletries and waved goodbye to Ron, chuckling as he made his way out.

Once dressed again, Harry lay on his bed reading a textbook for class the next day. He had just fed Voldemort a few mice, a small meal since he had ate a large rat just a few days before, and the Dark Lord now lay coiled in his usual spot on the comforter.

:You're stupid, Potter,: he decided to inform the young man.

Harry didn't even raise his eyes from his book. :Is that so?:

Voldemort made a sound akin to a huff and sidled his way up next to Harry, lifting his head.

:That Malfoy brat was aiming to kill me and you stopped him. It wouldn't have worked, of course,: he said arrogantly, and Harry had to roll his eyes, :but you couldn't have known that. Yet you jumped in front of the spell at the risk of your own safety anyway. So yes, you are incredibly stupid, Harry Potter. A stupid, noble, too-kind-for-his-own-good Gryffindor extraordinaire who couldn't even let his worst enemy die. Tell me, Potter, were you just trying to save my death for yourself or should people start to be concerned about the Chosen One's seemingly ability to kill me?:

Harry lay the book down on his lap. :Maybe I was just saving you for myself. But then again, to see the look on Malfoy's face once he realized he killed the Dark Lord might have been worth it. I would even had helped you get resurrected again just to see you punish him.:

:Really?: Voldemort seemed highly interested in his answer. Harry pretended to think about it.

:Eh, on second thought, let's just go with the whole "I'm stupid" thing and call it a day. But now that you've pointed out my flaw, I shall endeavor to correct this mistake next time and let you die.: Harry raised his book back up, appearing to read more. Voldemort hissed with indignation.

:I really wish you would die, Potter.:

:And I wish you would stop insulting my friends, but we both know that's never going to happen. We just can't get what we want, can we? Although, I have always wanted a kitten, and we're learning this new animal-to-animal spell in Transfig—:

:Finish that sentence, Potter, and I'll give you to Bellatrix. I'm very good at torture, but she's got that unhinged creativity with it.:

:Like you would let anyone else torture me,: Harry muttered.