A Snake Named Voldemort

Chapter 2

Hermione looked to Harry, who shrugged and said, "He says hello." Hermione's eyes widened minutely.

"Can he can understand me?" She seemed quite flabbergasted at the idea.

"He's a smart snake who's lived around humans all his life," Harry merely replied.

"Well, I think he's bloody creepy, Harry. Are you really keeping him?" Ron asked as he sidled up next to Hermione. The girl hit Ron on the arm, telling him something along the lines of speaking ill of people—er—snakes when they were present. The three turned in unison and left out the portrait hole to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"I find him better conversation than some people I know," was all Harry responded with. Ron looked dubious, but didn't say anything further as he rubbed his bruised arm. If he happened to walk a few inches further from Harry than normal, no one commented on it.

Entering the Great Hall, the trio sat in their usual spots at Gryffindor's table and piled their plates high with the foods set out for them.

As more students trickled in, Voldemort made a point to sit upright on Harry's shoulder with his hood flared, giving anyone who dared look at him a sharp glare in return. Everyone gave Harry and his new companion a wide berth, faces pale and eyes troubled.

"Down, boy," Harry sighed. "You don't want to be forced back into the cold, now, do you?" More quietly, he said, :You're not a Basilisk, so quit with the death glares.:

Voldemort seemed to regain control of his temper, until Dumbledore decided to make an appearance, that is, in which case the Dark Lord started shooting death glares and insults in the Headmaster's direction before Harry was forced to grab the snake's head and shove it under his robes.

:Cool it! Do you want your cover blown? Granted, I won't be heartbroken if you get caught.: Harry tried to hiss under his breath, but still the students around him were giving him wary looks. Harry made an effort to smile sweetly to put them at ease, not at all confident with its effectiveness. "He fell off the wrong side of the bed this morning," he told them in explanation for the snake's seemingly bad temper. That actually might not have been a lie, either, Harry mused with a grin.

Throughout breakfast, Harry tried to act natural while shooting glances up to the Head Table, whereas everyone else was shooting glances at him. While the students seemed overly aware of Voldemort, the teachers hadn't seemed to notice his new addition until halfway through the meal when said evil bastard decided to slip out from under Harry's robes again. Now much of the teachers' attentions were on him and the poisonous snake around his neck.

The one Harry was most worried about was Snape, since if his prediction was correct and Snape had somehow, quite cunningly, slipped Voldemort the potion to transform him into a snake then he would be the most likely one to recognize the Dark Lord for who he was. Harry was riding on the hope Wormtail had mentioned he "killed" the snake. But Snape never showed up for breakfast that morning, so Harry could at least relax about that for a while still. Dumbledore, though, kept shooting Harry curious glances such that Harry knew he would have to explain himself very soon.

Sure enough, as the Great Hall emptied as students went off to class, Dumbledore crossed the room to where Harry sat. As he neared, the elder wizard used that strangely blackened right hand of his to absently smooth down his snowy beard. Harry wasn't positive, but when Voldemort seemed to catch sight of the hand he made a curious hiss that might have been in shock. Harry didn't have time to press him for answers before Dumbledore reached him.

"Good morning, Professor," Harry greeted politely. Voldemort coiled tighter around his throat. Harry knew that the snake was probably restraining himself from reacting overtly to the old man.