ꜱᴇʀᴘᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ | ᴛᴏᴍɪᴏɴᴇ

Serpentine, ch. 1

Serpentine

Part One:

Into the Shadows

CHAPTER ONE

The menacing wizard gripped the armrests of his leather chair as he gazed, transfixed, into the blazing fire.

He was cold, even by the flames. He always felt a certain cold, which had settled in him long ago--from the wretched times at the orphanage, to the night a mere boy had nearly destroyed him.

He should be used to it by now, the cold. It was his loyal companion, the only thing that never left him. His followers left at times. Even his snake, Nagini, slithered off from time to time, seemingly just to be free of his company.

How foolish these people were, he thought as he tightened his grip until his knuckles shone white against the black armrests.

He could vaporize the lot of them into oblivion any time he pleased. And yet they still dared to leave him, only to expect forgiveness when they came crawling back.

If only he could find a follower who was as loyal as Peter Pettigrew. Peter was there for Voldemort from the beginning, but only in fear.

Voldemort needed a follower he could trust as much as he trusted himself--one unlike the other Death Eaters. They were all old, dead, or incarcerated. He needed someone new, someone who would be thrilled to stand beside the greatest wizard in the world.

The Dark Lord jumped up and hurried over to the window. The scene below was what some might term "quaint" with the small village nestled far down the hill from Riddle Mansion, the home he had inherited upon his father's demise.

Severus Snape, his most loyal servant, was set to spy on the old wizard in charge of the glorious Wizarding school. If anyone knew how to find him a new follower, it was Snape.

Voldemort threw back his cloak and rolled up the sleeve on his left arm to expose the pale white flesh beneath. In sharp contrast, a tattoo of a snake slithered in and out of a skull on the inside of his forearm. He flicked his wand over it to call forth his spy.

~~~

On the first night of her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a young witch abruptly woke from a deep sleep. She opened her eyes a sliver and found Professor McGonagall staring down at her with thin lips pressed tightly together. She set aside The Tales of Beedle the Bard as she sat up in bed.

"Hermione Granger, the Headmaster wishes to see you in his office straight away," said the woman in an urgent tone.

"Did he say why?" She pushed back a wild mane of hair to rub her sleepy eyes. Her thoughts first turned to Harry. Usually, she only ever went to see the Headmaster when her friend was in trouble.

"He said it was urgent. That is all I know, Miss Granger." McGonagall headed briskly toward the door before turning to look back at her. "You must hurry."

Hermione pulled a robe over her pajamas and followed the Headmistress out of the dormitories. Anxiety squirmed in her belly as they jogged through the corridors. Soon, they came to the ancient gargoyle marking the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

"Pepper imps," McGonagall said and the gargoyle sprung to life. She turned to Hermione. "This is where I leave you."

At the top of the stairs, Hermione took a deep breath before pushing open the door. The golden room shone less brightly than it did during the day, but she could still make out the old paintings of past Headmasters and the wide variety of strange silver instruments lying about the familiar room.