A Snake Named Voldemort

Chapter 5

Harry soon came to realise after that first week that a bored Dark Lord was almost worse than one that was tossing Unforgivables at him. Voldemort had taken to entertaining himself by insulting the various residents of Hogwarts and how he wished he could kill every single student at Hogwarts because all their teenaged angst was in turn killing his brain cells. The first day it was amusing, but by the second it was starting to get very annoying hearing how all his friends were going to die, and by the end of the week Harry was downright as grumpy as Voldemort.

It was a Saturday night and Harry was sitting lazily in front of the fireplace in the Common Room watching while a group of his fellow Gryffindors played a rowdy tournament of Exploding Snap. Harry was amused by the proceedings, but Voldemort simply found it obnoxious and decided to voice his opinions. Harry tried to be patient, he really did, but after the fourth nasty comment, the young wizard lost it.

:Will you shut up!:

Voldemort hissed in anger at the outburst, but before he could retort Harry shut him up once more.

:No, don't say anything. This whole week I've done nothing but listen to you whine and throw a fit about every little thing and now I'm done! Those are my friends whose deaths you are planning and I'm sick of hearing about it. I know you hate being here with me of all people, but do you think I'm enjoying it any better? No, I'm not. My parents' murderer is sleeping in my bed with me and I have to bloody carry him around my neck every day! I don't care if you tell me how I'm going to die, but when you start threatening my friends then you can just piss off and find a way to become human on your own.:

Face set in anger and Avada Kedavra eyes gleaming, Harry none too gently peeled Voldemort's slender body off him and dropped him onto the chair he'd just vacated. Glancing up, Harry vaguely registered that, as everyone's attention was on the card game, nobody had noticed Harry's little tirade. Even if they had, Harry honestly couldn't bring himself to care, though he knew it would mean he'd be getting funny looks for an indeterminable period of time.

Sweeping from the Common Room to the staircase, Harry took two steps at a time up to his empty dorm room and flung himself on his bed, spelling the curtains shut. Fuming, he stared at the stone ceiling, cursing the unfairness of life and why it was always him licking the bottom of Fate's boot.

After a time, he noticed a vague pain that had increased steadily since he left the Common Room. He impassively realised that this must be Dumbledore's binding spell on him and Voldemort. Harry sneered at its uselessness and wondered why Dumbledore even bothered, because other than a slight tugging sensation and the oddly detached twinge of pain he could easily ignore the spell.

A few moments later, Harry heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs to the room.

"Erm, Harry?" Ron's voice called from the other side of the curtain. Sighing, Harry sat up and pushed aside the barrier and looked at his friend.

"Yeah, Ron?"

The redhead looked slightly uncomfortable, but Harry couldn't immediately tell what the problem was.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Yeah, it's your snake."

Harry scoffed. "What's he doing, throwing a temper tantrum and threatening the other students? I hope he gets a book thrown at him."

If Ron thought this comment strange when talking about a seemingly ordinary snake, he didn't say anything.

"Erm, no. Actually, it kind of looks like he's under some sort of pain curse."

Harry blinked at the boy. "What?"

"Yeah," Ron said, ruffling a hand through his hair. "He's writhing on the floor and making these strange hissing sounds. It's scaring the others."