The Sleeping Princess

22- True Love's Kiss

Harry froze, not believing what he was seeing. Voldemort was standing there above him, looking down with a rather hungry look in those eyes. His long black robes billowing behind him even though there was no wind—he twisted his head around as he glared down at him and Harry felt sweat pouring down his face as he took a step back. He then heard a mad cackle and suddenly a woman stepped out from behind Voldemort. She was a rather old woman with a tangled mess of black hair, a yellow and wasted face, and a look of madness in her eyes.

"Why are you here?" Harry demanded Voldemort, hoping that his voice didn't sound as panicky as he felt. "Haven't you done enough damage to this place?"

"I should be asking you that," Voldemort asked lightly. "After all, you ended up destroying my castle, and killing off almost all of my servants only to come straight to this cursed kingdom. The only one I have left is Bellatrix here."

The woman cackled again at his words as she looked all doey-eyed at Voldemort. Harry fought the urge to be sick at the twisted look on her face. She then looked down at him like her master was doing and asked in a baby voice, "Oh, little baby still think that he can break the curse?" She cackled hysterically and finished by saying, "Do you think that you're the one who can wake up the princess? Wake up from your dream little farm boy."

Harry gritted his teeth. He couldn't believe his luck. They had come all this way just to be killed by these two? He wasn't going to stand for it.

Voldemort glanced at her for a moment before he looked back down to Harry and asked, "Is that true? Do you really think that all you have to do is kiss the princess? I agree—you need to wake up. True love…" he said that last word as if it was a disgusting swear word, "Doesn't exist. That you believe that one kiss will be enough to break my curse? And even if it could, what makes you think that she would want you? She has power and wealth… while you…" he sneered. "You're a boy who lives on a dirt-poor farm. You're struggling just to get by are you not? Why would she want you?"

"Just what do you want?!" Harry demanded again, trying his best to ignore all his words. "Why don't you both leave this place!? Can't you leave these people alone? They haven't done anything to you!"

"It's merely the fact that they exist that I detest," Voldemort said. He closed his terrible red eyes for a moment before he said, "All of them so happy… it made me sick. So I decided to entertain myself with seeing fear and dread in their eyes."

His eyes opened again, but instead of bright red, they turned into a pair of big, yellow eyes. "And now all I have to do is finish you off and it will be certain!"

Voldemort's body had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake as his head and body began lengthening. His shoulders were hunching over as scales were sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were merging with the rest of his body as he began to grow.

Harry watched; horrified at what he saw…

Where Voldemort once stood—was an enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, which had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly as its yellow eyes looked down at him—his fangs glistening like sabers.

Harry froze, his sword—which suddenly felt about as useful as a toothpick—fell from his limp hand and let out another song-like chime as it hit the stone. Bellatrix was laughing uncontrollably as the enormous serpent—30 feet long at least—slowly uncoiled itself and stuck its tongue out to taste the air.

Harry took a step back, tripping over a stray root and scrambling back to his feet, grabbing his sword and now trying to come up with some kind of plan. But none came to mind… he didn't know what to do here… his head was blank… but then he heard it.