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Because We Are Snakes	By : Setsuna24 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 44500 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 19
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any recognizable characters or materials I make no money from this story and its just written for fun

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Because We Are Snakes – The Mating Ball

“CRUCIO!”

In days like this he wondered if the Muggleborn’s allegation that the need of the Purebloods to marry only amongst each other to keep their blood pure was the seed of an onset of inbreed stupidity was a well founded one.

How hard can it be to either bribe a Department of Mysteries member to hand over the secret to attaining a prophecy from the record shelf without being hurt severely or even killed in the process? And if that doesn’t work, how hard can it be to scare them enough for their life and that of their loved ones to hand the information over?

“Do not fail me again Lucius, the Unspecables must know a way to get this done and I need to know it in case my plans with the Potter boy fall through, I will not lose this valuable information and go off blindly because of your stupidity.”

On the floor, the Malfoy Lord twitched involuntarily in the aftershocks of pain from the over stimulated pain receptors of his nervous system. Still, he answered, because he knew the punishment if he didn’t.

“Y-y-yes, M-m-my L-l-lord.”

‘Such a pathetic sight, Severus is by no means a pureblood and he manages to hold off from screaming and is able to stand up after a round or two under my wand with much more promptness than this excuse of a pureblood. Abraxas would be so disappointed if he knew what his line has turned onto, the weakness in them. The Malfoy boy doesn’t even give me much hope for the future of the family either, such a pampered little thing with no knowledge of the world and soft as a newborn babe. Too reliant on mommy and daddy, yes, Abraxas would be rolling on his grave if he saw this.’

It was late on a Sunday night and he was holding a full meeting of his Death Eaters –the ones free from Azkaban at least- as he planned contingencies in case his plan for the Hall of Prophecy didn’t pan out and fine tuned the upcoming breakout of his most loyal from Azkaban, he would be freeing them soon – January at the latest.

The Dark Lord would be damned if his lack of forethought and thoughtless reactions drove him to act in a way that lead to his vanquishment for the second time. He still had no idea why he acted the way he did and went on his own to dispose of the Potter brat, he had gone alone!, and having only the first lines of a prophesy to base his actions on. He is a genius, for Merlin’s sake, a powerful Dark Lord. Yet in that moment, instead of using his Slytherin cunning and great intellect he proceeded like a brash Gryffindor and acted without thinking. Fat load of good that did him, spending all that time as a wraith and then as a leech on Quirell’s head, and that is not even counting the subpar homunculus created by Wormtail in which he had to reside for over a year.

No, he was not going to act rashly. He was going to plan carefully and have countermeasures in place, just in case.

He was running out of time and he would be damned if the stupidity of his followers put even more of a stopper on the things he needed to accomplish.

“Severus, what of matters at Hogwarts?”

The dour looking Potion’s Master sidestepped the still trembling Lucius as he made his way to kneel before his Lord, completely ignoring everyone else in the room and focusing only on his master.

“My Lord, the Headmaster has kept his distance from the boy since the beginning of term and has given no reason for it, this detachment from him has given the appearance that Potter is no longer under his wing and both Fugde and Umbridge have made thorough use of it, seen it as fit to break the boy while they have the chance, but Potter refuses to keep his head down. Were he not a Gryffindor I would have suggested this to be the perfect time to sway him to our side, sadly he is a Gryffindor and too set on his way; as foolish, arrogant, and pigheaded as his blood traitor father.”

“Yes, the boy had spent too much time under Dumbledore’s influence and manipulation to be swayed to our cause. A shame really, he has potential, if guided correctly.”

He could almost hear the derisive snort about the notion that Severus was holding back. The man truly hated the boy and though no good of him. It didn’t matter, Voldemort hated the boy too.

The Dark Lord asked more questions regarding Hogwarts, Umbridge, and Dumbledore’s movements with the Order then proceeded to ask reports from his other strategically positioned Death Eaters within the Ministry and other important bodies of Wizarding Society. One by one they presented any information of interest or their results in an assignment, or were punished for their failure.

At the end of the night, Lord Voldemort was tired, it was one of the very few needs of his body –hunger included- that he could do nothing about. Despite being a powerful wizard, he was still human –mostly- and thus he still needed to eat and sleep when his body demanded it and he could no longer resist the need. He had been awake for thirty six hours, it was time to rest.

His tired body practically sunk into the dark satin sheets of his large bed. The empty expanse at either side of him did not bother him in the least, he had no need for company, he had no need for anyone to warm his bed and take over all that empty space. He had mastered his body and therefore felt no need at all, even when both men and women from his inner circle and some brave ones from the outer circles flaunted themselves before him in hopes to gain his favor by warming his bed.

He felt no need.

Except, lately, some nights… there was a strange ache of emptiness in him that no amount of pleasure gained from torturing others could fill. There was a need for something there, he didn’t know of what, and it bothered him. He was sure though, that once he figured out what that strange ache was about, he would be able to conquer it and move on.

The ache was starting again, it was like a heat that moved from the center of his chest and used his very blood and veins to travel to the rest of his body. It was the second time this happened but somehow tonight seemed to be different.
Anger far surpassing anything he has ever felt before –and that’s saying a lot seeing as he was very quick to anger and rather vindictive- suddenly overtook him. A need to murder, dismember and deal out suffering he had not felt since Dumbledore refused him the position of Defense Professor. This need to keep and make someone suffer, of spilling their blood and take pleasure in their pain filled screams, it made his body shake with unknown desire.

He was disgusted by it.

It did not come from him this anger, and once realization to that particular event sunk in, he knew it came from Potter. How interesting.

As soon as it came the anger was gone tampered with faint traces of conviction, of what? He could not tell, but his body had grown hard as reaction to Potter’s onslaught of violent and bloody-thirsty thoughts along with such raw anger.

He ignored it.

And still with his manhood swollen and standing proud, he turned to the side and went to sleep.

Not long after closing his eyes and falling into sleep’s sweet embrace, his mind was assaulted by strange images.
----
In a cemetery he knew all too well, the rain poured continuously with fat heavy drops and the darkened clouds covered every bit of light making it impossible to see too far in front of yourself. Periodically, lightning would strike illuminating the cemetery with is glow and thunder would ring splitting the air in two. He moved, along the muddled ground and between the tombstones as he slithered with purpose following the most alluring smell he had ever encountered, like a sailor following the voice of a siren at sea.

The grave, which months before had contained his father’s bones was still open, the pool of dirt and water it had become contained a mass of writhing he could hardly discern. But whatever he was following, that thing he wanted so much it burned, it was in there.

His serpentine body slithered down the side of the open grave into the pool of muddied water, that’s when he saw them. There was a white snake, old and wrinkled, and smelling of death and decay. There was a fat one, three times bigger than all the others around and a smaller yet also fat one, along with one with a strangely elongated head, they were a strange coppery color which on human hair could have been considered some kind of dirty blond.

There were several red ones, all varying in color, a black one, and several others of different reds.

They were all surrounding the smaller one in the center of what he realized now was a mating ball. Yet, it did not feel like these snakes surrounding the one in the center –save for two or three of them- actually wanted to mate with the one with the alluring scent, it felt as if they were stifling it, trying to suffocate it and break its will.

He wanted that emerald and obsidian snake for his own, he wanted it like he had wanted very few things in his life. It was strange, the irrationality of the serpentine mind once it was overcome by instinct.

The emerald and obsidian serpent was his, all the other snakes had no right to claim any part of what belonged to Lord Voldemort.

He launched himself forward and stroke at the unaware snakes, his powerful jaws clamping on their scaled bodies and his long poison filled fangs delivering swift death onto them. He killed them all, blood and venom filled the muddied water in his father’s open grave, long serpentine bodies and pieces of snake floated about from the sharpness of his fangs having actually cut some open and to pieces.

In the center of it all the emerald and obsidian snake curled and lifted its head, golden slitted and glowing eyes looked upon his burning red ones and did not back down in fear. They issued a challenge he was all too eager to oblige.

Quickly, he moved in the water, through the corpses of those who would have claimed his possession as their own and he wrapped himself around that burning hot sleek body. Their scales rubbed against each other, his flat head rested over the red fringe in the emerald and obsidian’s snake head while he accommodated his much heavier body, twisting it around the other, seeking the opening which would bring them both to complete union.

Twisted around each other in the water and mud, as the rain poured hard from the skies and lightning illuminated their encounter while thunder sang onto them, Lord Voldemort and the emerald and obsidian serpent mated, their heads rubbing against each other in an obscene mockery of a kiss.

Again and again he took his mate, and as the sun rose in the horizon and the rain had long gone, they both curled around each other… in the center of their twisted coils rested a single emerald scaled egg.

-----

With the rise of the sun, he awoke, perturbed by his dreams and with a heavy feeling in his stomach.

Maybe it would have been better to, for once, succumb to his bodily needs and taken care of his erection before falling asleep. Maybe if he had done that he would not have been assaulted with such strange dreams all night.

But no, he was a Dark Lord, he was THE Dark Lord Voldemort… he was above such base things.

Far away in a castle in Scotland, Harry Potter awoke sweaty and confused in his fur pile, having had one of his strangest dreams to date. He clutched Egg tighter in his arms and resolved that no other, snake or human, would ever posses either of them. The feeling of being suffocated in that ball of writing snakes and being so thoroughly taken by the large green snake with red eyes was much too disturving.
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Because We Are Snakes