Something was on his face.
It smelled like ash.
...Fire?
Harry blinked and saw that the room was still dark. The fire in the room was out, but it was still smoldering. The smell of semen, sweat, and other bodily fluids entered Harry's nose. He grimaced, although the smell wasn't terribly unpleasant, there was also a kind of sour undertone that Harry wanted to wash away. His skin was dry, but to the extreme; on his stomach was a trail of dried semen, now falling like an extreme form of dandruff from his belly.
He wrinkled his nose and curled his lip into a look of disgust. Only then did he feel something tossing in his hair that had fallen backward due to his movements. He looked at the dark shadow in his black locks and saw the small shape of Jormy. He looked at the cheeky snake that looked straight into his eyes without blinking.
Harry said nothing and just looked pointedly at the snake. Jormy lay still on his pillow, right next to a peacefully sleeping Rabastan, who smelled - in a strange and impossible way - of the fresh breeze of spring and not of dried semen. The lucky bastard.
Jormy hadn't moved yet and Harry couldn't tell anything from his behavior or expression. Harry was well aware that he had humanized Jormy, that he attributed human emotions to the snake. In the current situation, Harry gave the snake a stoic expression. Imperturbable and unaffected by the situation in which he found his master. And that worried Harry.
Because Jormy wasn't stoic, he was bold, flamboyant, and full of himself. The Jormy Harry knew was not a stoic snake, but had actually exploited the situation and possibly made it worse with false, sexual remarks.
But there was Jormy. Motionless, still as a statue, on his pillow. Only the flickering of his little gray tongue told Harry the little snake was still alive.
He blinked. Jormy didn't.
He tilted his head to get a closer look at the snake. Jormy didn't.
~'Jormy?'~ Harry asked softly, poking at the snake.
But Jormy didn't blink and looked intently at Harry.
Harry began to worry about his little snake. Hadn't he been in the fire often enough? Had he eaten too little, or was the harsh weather of January gripping the snake?
~'Jormy, talk to me,'~ Harry pleaded to the snake. ~'I'm sorry I haven't had much contact with you over the past few days, but I was just busy. I had school work, and I was researching my tattoo. And I was with Rabastan... Oh Jormy, I have so much to tell you.'~
Tears began to flow and Harry stroked his friend's smooth skin with his hand. The eyes didn't blink and seemed to stare deep into his soul. Harry began to feel uncomfortable under the snake's gaze and looked for ways to provoke a response. However, he didn't find anything to elicit the snake's interest, so he started talking haphazardly again.
~ 'I'm sorry,'~ he whispered softly, his lips on the snake's skin. ~'I'm sorry I was gone all day yesterday. I'm sorry I didn't visit you right after that to talk to you. I was a little distracted.'~ Harry added a little sheepishly.
~'I'm so sorry I haven't seen you before when I-'~
~'Jormy saw you.'~ the little snake interrupted without blinking. ~'Jormy saw everything, and knows you have copulated.'~
Harry opened his mouth to speak but stopped with a single blink of Jormy's eyes.
~'Fornicate.'~ The snake hissed smugly.
Harry exhaled tense and looked in surprise at the small snake that straightened up.
~'Body fluids have exchanged.'~
~'Yes, but-'~ Jormy moved quickly towards Harry and let his small head hang right in front of Harry's bewildered face.
~'You bred Rabastan... for thirteen minutes and nineteen seconds... Jormy has been counting from the moment you were buggering him up.'~
~'I- WHAT ?! Did you count? Where- Where in Merlin's name were you that you could see when I-'~ Harry stuttered in dismay as he looked at Jormy's shameless face.
Now that he knew the snake had been watching all night, he could better catalog that lifeless expression. It was unabashedly staring, waiting for round number two.
The snake grinned and slithered down his shoulders to the other side of his face, where he whispered in his ear: ~'Jormy was on the pillow next to you. I was impressed by the noises and the vibrations from the mattress. At one point, Jormy thought the bed was going to collapse, but it didn't. Jormy was very proud.'~
The snake slid down contentedly to the edge of the bed and looked back. ~'Jormy gives it eight out of ten points, next time Jormy wants to see more breeding. Especially with the young master, otherwise, Jormy will never see little Hatchlings running around the Manor again. What a waste of all those bodily fluids. When Jormy saw that Master Rabastan spilled his cum in young Master Harry's mouth, Jormy almost tried to intervene. That's not the way Hatchlings are created.'~ Jormy concluded in an indignant tone as if Harry had flushed weeks of lessons and training down the drain.
~'But- but we're two men, Jormy. I know snakes have a different way of mating - although I don't really know how snakes do it - but men, in the human world, will not bear the fruit of the other. There will be no Hatchlings. So there is no waste.'~ Harry said uncomfortably, absently wiping the dried flakes of semen from his stomach.
~'No Hatchlings?'~ Jormy hissed innocently.
Harry shook his head. ~'No Hatchlings.'~
Jormy started to hiss in amusement. ~'Jormy will just wait and see.'~ He decided firmly. The snake slid toward the door and paused in the doorway for a moment.
~'Master?'~
Harry threw up his hands in frustration and said to the snake wearily. ~'Yeah, Jormy?'~
~'Jormy wanted to tell the young master that the man with the snake face is waiting in Grand Master Corvus's study. He added that the young master had to hurry up.'~
He looked Harry up and down and added shamelessly. ~'Master Harry cannot show himself like that. You better hurry up, nobody likes a slouch and a slagger.'~
The snake hissed with laughter when a pillow that Harry had thrown in the direction of the snake missed its target.
Harry dropped backward in astonishment, slightly springy on the mattress.
"Little shit," he swore under his breath.
***
"You're late," said Voldemort's cold voice. "I was almost afraid that your old Gryffindor tendencies had failed you, and that you were too cowardly to face me."
Harry snorted, "If you wanted me to be on time, you'd better have sent a House-Elf than a little Ashwinder."
Voldemort laughed, then leaned back against the back of the chair. "Would that have made a difference? I was under the assumption that the little snake is your Familiar, an unbreakable bond between two misfits; the Gryffindor who is secretly a snake, and the Ashwinder who continues to live on."
"Jormy has a certain flair to convey a message. It takes time," said Harry with a teasing laugh.
"I don't know a snake with flair. That's the advantage of snakes; they are smart, calculating, and to the point," said Voldemort firmly.
Harry began to laugh. "It's a good thing that most Ashwinders only live for a few hours. We shouldn't have the bubble around your understanding about snakes bursting by a cheeky bastard of a snake."
Voldemort gave him a frosty look for a moment but surprised him shortly after. "I thought the snake was showing too little decorum and reverence towards me, but I didn't expect anything else with you as master. I now see that I was perhaps too quick in my judgment."
He gestured to another armchair and floated a glass of Firewiskey over it. "Sit down, Potter. We have a lot to discuss."
Harry sat down but didn't take a sip of the liquor. He wanted to stay sharp for the upcoming conversation.
"What did you want to talk about, sir?"
"I have come to make you the same proposal as I did all those years ago. Join me and together we will rule the world."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "You lied in my first year, you said my parents were begging for their lives. That my mother shouldn't have died while you killed her before you turned your attention to me. Why should I believe anything that comes out of your lying mouth?"
Voldemort chuckled, but it was like a scraping, cold sound that suddenly made Harry feel cold. "I bent the truth then, but I didn't lie about your mother. She didn't have to die, I told her three times to get out of the way. She chose to protect you, even though she could have chosen for herself."
He looked closely at Harry. "I have never lied to you, and as my ally, I will promise not to deceit you in the future. I will spare you, as well as people of your choice. And no, this does not apply to all of Britain, let's say five to six people. I would even include a present, neatly tied with a red bow. The perfect proof of your godfather's innocence delivered to the Ministry."
Harry's eyes widened upon hearing this offer. It may have been incredibly selfish of him to consider this, but he wanted to help Sirius. And he knew help would never come from Dumbledore, after all, the man had known for years that his godfather was innocent, but hadn't lifted a finger to help him.
"I have to think about this," said Harry thoughtfully. "I can already make one concession, I will be neutral anyway. My affiliation with Rabastan is a lasting one, even though I accepted his courtship with the thought that Rabastan would be in Azkaban for a long time, the relationship has grown since then. Just for his sake alone, will I be neutral, independent of my own affinities."
Voldemort growled softly, displeasure visible on his face. "You could do so much better than Rabastan Lestrange. He is a loyal follower, and mighty in his own right, but he pales next to my strength... Besides your strength."
"Rabastan has supported me in everything, has given me the strength to come to certain decisions. It's not up to you to judge his powers," said Harry spitefully.
"How bright your eyes shine when you are passionate about something!" Voldemort exclaimed, reaching for Harry and running a long finger across his scar. ~'So delectable.'~
"As much as I would have liked to get to know you when I was at school myself, I would have grasped the opportunity and initiated you into the Knight of Walpurgis. No one could have made a claim on you, you would have been mine."
Harry frowned and looked at Voldemort. The man himself seemed lost in thought, still running his finger over Harry's scar. "Knights of Walpurgis, what is that?" Harry asked in a slightly trembling voice, trying to ignore the sensations Voldemort was creating in him.
Voldemort grinned, his short, sharp teeth visible in the flickering light. "The Knights of Walpurgis were my group with the most loyal followers, friends almost. Your Corvus was a member of my group, so he is still one of my dearest followers."
Harry nodded and recoiled a little, to interrupt the almost embarrassing contact between him and Voldemort. "I thought your followers are called Death Eaters, that's a step back from the name Knight of Walpurgis, it has a more elegant ring to it."
Voldemort moved back to Harry, almost on his lap, now that Harry had pressed his head against the back of his chair. Voldemort didn't seem to accept his wish to have room for himself and traced Harry's bottom lip with his spidery finger.
A shiver ran through him that should make him disgusted, but instead, he parted his lips and moaned softly. He could taste the dark magic when Voldemort penetrated Harry's warm mouth with his finger. It tasted great; sharp and sweet at the same time, like the perfect mix between Kreacher's Treacle Tart and something withered, that tasted like a taboo. He knew he couldn't have it and especially should have it, but he craved after it. He was the ultimate forbidden fruit.
"When I started gathering followers I looked for a name that would live up to my intentions, to me as a leader. On the night of Walpurgis, held on the night of April 30, witches, wizards, and demons congregate. On this night the veil between the world of humans and that of demons is the thinnest. Only wizards skilled in the darkest forms of Necromancy and Soulmagic are able to summon demons. At the time, it seemed appropriate to me to express my ambitions in the name of my organization. And that's why, my dear Harry, you would be a perfect fit for me." He pulled his finger from Harry's mouth and licked it. He closed his eyes for a moment, full of pleasure, and smiled softly. Harry had to hold back a disappointed groan when he saw that the man looked stern again and made no attempt to re-establish physical contact.
"I was looking for possibilities to shape my group, how the structure should be. I took refuge for this in writings of organizations, magical and non-magical. In the end, I chose a mixture between the way the Dark Lord Grindelwald ruled his followers and the muggle group: the order of the Knights Templar."
Harry raised his eyebrows at this. He hadn't expected Voldemort to have taken inspiration from examples of Muggles, and certainly not a Christian crusader order. Harry had only a cursory knowledge of the Templars but knew they were fighting in the so-called holy war against the Muslims.
"You seem surprised to hear the mention of the Knights Templar, which was traditionally a very powerful organization, with the support of the Church and the Kings. It was a military organization, based on a clear philosophy. A Grand Master was undisputedly in charge and in supremacy, with the rest of the order as co-administrators and covenants. Later it has also been closely associated with whispers in the occult; complete with rituals, initiation ceremony, riches, eternal life, and Freemasonry."
Harry looked impatiently at Voldemort and could no longer contain himself. "Is there a reason for this history lesson? I still don't see any similarities between my situation or how your Death Eaters emerged from the Knights of Walpurgis."
"In my youth, I came across a book about the order of the Knights Templar. This book focused on the period after the burning of their then Grand Master Jacques de Molay in 1314. The order had risen from the ashes of their earlier order and by the 15th century had embraced alchemy along with the occult." Voldemort paused and looked sharply at Harry. "You understand, Harry, that my interest in eternal life caused me to be interested in the claims of this group, be they Knights Templar or Masons."
He got up and walked to Corvus's desk, where Harry saw several books and pieces of parchment. He picked up a book and brought it to Harry. His white, frighteningly thin hand offered him the book, which, with its worn husks, looked very tattered. It was a book published for Muggles, about the Knights Templar order and further conspiracy theories about their survival.
The book automatically fell open to a page, the title of which told Harry that it was about initiation rituals. A thin finger with a sharp inky black nail pointed to a particular passage. "Read, Harry."
['For example, the three chemical substances mercury, salt, and sulfur in the darkroom refer directly to the alchemy of Paracelsus. It all revolved around a unity depicted by the Philosopher's Stone that could arise from these three substances. The substances are not chemical in nature, but symbols of cosmic or psychic principles. By uniting the opposites in the psyche, indicated by male sulfur and female salt brought together through the moving mercury, man could experience a kind of religious enlightenment.'
'The descent into the darkened room, where there is a skull, after all, is recognizable as the darkness or the depression that precedes the enlightenment. In alchemy, this is indicated by the phase of the nigredo, the blackening, or the putrefaction. After the nigredo comes the laundering or albedo and finally the rubedo, the redness that completes the process. Then the elements, water, fire, earth, and air are united, overcoming the painful contradiction and division in the psyche.']
Harry blinked and looked again at the difficult piece of text. "I don't quite understand what this has to do with your Death Eaters."
Voldemort took the book back and put it aside. "That's because it has nothing to do with my Death Eaters. It has everything to do with you. I had an interesting conversation yesterday with the leader of the Dementors who spoke about the 'Nigredo' and 'Albedo' phases. At the time I had no idea what he was talking about, but something kept gnawing in me, the familiar feeling that I had forgotten something. Last night I was musing on this and decided to take refuge in my mindscape. It was not long before I stumbled upon this book, which I had consulted in a long-forgotten time when forming my group."
Suddenly, Voldermort grabbed hold of Harry's hand and gently rubbed his knuckles and small bones of his hand. "This is my gift to you, Harry. And it is also my promise if you join me, I will help you control your powers. I would teach you Soulmagic as well as Necromancy. I understand the doubts that are holding you back from joining me and I will push no further."
He stood up and handed Harry a piece of parchment that he immediately recognized as his blood test result. Voldemort slid a long fingernail over the letter and lay on the words of Soulmagic and Necromancy. "You have so much potential Harry, join me and I will give you the world."
The nail then slid over 'Magical Residue', and got stuck on the Torn Soul. "Can't you see that you're already mine, Harry? That you are mine, however much you deny and reject me. Let me help you, my soul."
Harry shook his head violently and stood up. "I can not do that. You killed my parents and tried to kill me several times. First as a baby, then as a parasite on the back of someone else's head, then as a teenager, emerged from a strange diary, and finally last year: when you first tortured me and then wanted to kill me. I'm not very eager to bow down to the man who has done me so much harm," said Harry exasperated.
Voldemort looked over Harry's head and seemed to be staring into the darkness. "Use the knowledge I have given you, Harry, and think about my offer."
Harry looked at the man, but couldn't resist having the last word. "You still haven't told me why you chose the name Death Eater, while the Knights of Walpurgis was a fine, respectable name that would be more useful for political aspirations." Harry paused and added with a grin, "Death Eater sounds a lot less impressive."
Voldemort strode over to Harry and leaned his head towards Harry's ear.
~'I have named my followers so that they can bathe in my immortality. For the eating of the dead was the basis in attaining my immortality. And you, my delectable Harry, are the best Death Eater of them all. You're mine.'~
He slid his mouth from his ear along his jawline to his mouth. He licked Harry's lower lip for a moment, then took hold of Harry's mouth. His mouth moved forcibly against Harry's soft lips and for a moment Harry felt warm. It felt like a homecoming. The man tasted better than what his cold finger had tasted. Harry could taste the residue of the dark spells on the Dark Lord's tongue. The aroma, along with the wild throbbing of his scar, prevented Harry from immediately tearing himself away from Voldemort's arms. On the contrary, he wanted to snuggle himself against the man's tall, strong body and let himself be carried away by the waves of dark magic and longing.
He groaned as he felt the man release him a little more and make a slight backward motion. Voldemort pressed another short kiss on his lips, then took a step back.
"I'll talk to you soon, Harry."
Harry could only blink his eyes dazed before the Dark Lord disappeared, dissolved in the shadows.
"Fuck!" he scolded into the shadows, rubbing his face with his hands. He hardly realized what had happened, and his legs were shaking.
"Fuck, indeed," said an angry voice behind him.
Harry turned and looked straight into Rabastan's furious face.