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Serpentine Series	By : HarmonyB Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 12060 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING IN REGARDS TO THE HARRY POTTER FANDOM NOR DO I MAKE MONEY OFF OF THIS STORY.

Chapter List
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"Get her!" Mag shouted as his stouter self was slower at getting out of bed.
"Snape!" Harmony screamed before flying down the stairs. She felt Marek's fingers graze her shoulder before she leapt down three stairs at a time. A red stunning spell shot by her head, inches from her ear. When Harmony's bare feet landed on the last stair step, she felt up her sleeve for her wand. She whipped it out and sent a spell over her shoulder.
She was sprinting to the door when out of her peripheral vision she saw the innkeeper reading his newspaper behind the counter, "Wands outside!" he shouted without looking up from his paper.
Harmony was out the door a second later, and she was blasted with the cool salty breeze that blew in from the sea. Off to the left was a massive tall grass field and just ahead one hundred yards was a forest. She had a chance to escape if she was nimble enough to race through the dense wood. But she didn't like the thought of keeping her back to a couple of determined Death Eaters. She was going to fight and the open field was the best place for it.
When Harmony placed herself near the center of the field, several more spells had flown by inches away. She tried conjuring a Cascadia, but nerves kept her from focusing. So when she faced the Death Eaters she was left with nothing but her wand skills—most of which were learned from Voldemort himself, so her abilities were far from lacking. But when she turned to face the men, she wondered if what they saw was an adept witch. She could imagine them taking in everything from her bare feet, wrinkled black shirt, unruly hair waving about her head in the wind like a halo, wisps blowing across her hard, determined eyes. She hoped that when they saw her they didn't see a stubborn seventeen year old teenager, but a woman well used to defending herself. The Death Eater Marek was close behind her, as expected, with Mag striding towards them from the inn. He took his time walking over; he seemed to think they had her, that she wasn't getting away.
Harmony gripped her wand righter, driven to prove just how wrong they were. They weren't forcing her anywhere.
"Get her, Marek," Mag called, standing a couple yards from his accomplice's elbow. "Let's have this hunt done with."
Harmony raised her wand straight at Marek's heart in warning. If he made any move he was going to pay for it. But she was completely unprepared for the spells that suddenly flew at her with lightning speed. He was quick, very quick. But Harmony noticed what he made up for in speed he lacked in power and he conjured them as though halfheartedly. Fortunately, Harmony was both equal in power and speed, so she was lucky to deflect each of his spells, though at the very last second. This lasted a couple minutes: cast a spell, deflect a spell, cast, deflect, cast.
"Enough of this!" Mag called, his face scrunched up in impatience. "Playtime's over! Please just finish her, Marek!"
Even from that distance Harmony could see something change within her opponents wide brown eyes, and he conjured a spell that ignited their surroundings like a flash of lightning. The second Harmony was distracted by the burst of light, he sent a stunning spell at her. The spell hit her in the chest, making the air rush out of her lungs. She fell back, the tall grass rising around her and the sky, pink with dawn, filled her line of vision. For a short moment the air was silent except for the ocean breeze and Harmony watched as a flock of geese soared peacefully across the sky. Then somewhere, she couldn't turn her head to see where, footsteps moved through the grass. The sound came closer and closer until it was almost upon her. Then Marek's dark shadowy form appeared, taking place of the sky like a dark thundercloud. The silent Death Eater's cloak drifted in the wind. His hood had blown back while he ran after her. With the bottom half of his face covered by a black cloth, she saw his longish dark hair falling into his wide brown eyes, which were raptly set upon her. His shoulders rose and fell steadily as he fought to catch his breath.
Please, Harmony thought, the stunning spell restricting her use of speech. Please, please don't do this. Please don't take me, she begged as Marek stared down at her.
"Come on!" Mag shouted from somewhere. "Let's grab her and go!" When Marek didn't move Mag laughed rather humorlessly, "I know you fancy the girl, Marek, but there's no time for emotions now. You know what we have to do. The followers need her! She's the heir!"
Please, please, please.
Marek's eyebrows knit together in thought, his eyes moving over her body. Somewhere behind him Mag growled impatiently, then footsteps, "Fine," he called out, "I'll just do it myself, before Severus gives us any trouble." His footsteps—less graceful than Marek's—approached, and he soon appeared in her line of vision, wand drawn. When Mag was standing beside him, it was like Marek woke from a dream. He blinked his wide brown eyes, and before Mag could take a step closer to her, he extended an arm and placed a hand on Mag's suit collar. Marek Apparated the both of them, leaving Harmony alone in the field.
The moment they were gone, the stunning spell lifted from her body and she relaxed into the ground. She sat up and saw Snape striding towards her between the blades of grass. He had their sacs thrown over each shoulder.
As he walked up to her she said, "Voldemort is communicating with his Death Eaters somehow. He knew they were close to us."
"And how exactly do you know this? Your dreams?" he said coolly, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yes," Harmony said, "In the dream I just had, he told me to go in the room where his Death Eaters happened to be in."
"I thought we agreed these dreams were being sent to you by an imposter!" he said angrily.
"No!" Harmony replied, getting to her feet. "No, I questioned him on what only the true Lord Voldemort would know, and he gave me a sound and detailed description in answer. I know from the bottom of my heart he is who he says he is."
"But," Snape complained pinching the bridge of his nose, "The Daily Prophet was very clear, his memory was wiped clean. Now, unless you are telling me the Ministry lied about all this, how could he send dreams of his normal self when he has no recollection of who he is?"
Harmony pondered, a stray hair blowing into her eyes. "Dreams come from the subconscious, right?" she said. "We dream of things we can't possibly remember in the waking world. So what I'm thinking is, what if somewhere deep in Voldemort's subconscious he remembers everything. From who he was and what he's done, to what he's capable of. What if it was somewhere deep enough where the Obliviate spell couldn't reach?"
"That is a large 'what if,'" Snape said. "What you are saying is, while he's awake he doesn't remember, but he does while he dreams." He pursed his lips. "It is insane, but …possible."
"You see," Harmony said, a mixture of both excitement and anxiety surging through her belly.
"But it still doesn't explain how he can send you these dreams," Snape said. "Your minds would have to be connected somehow, making them one and the same. The Serpentine charm perhaps?"
"Maybe," Harmony agreed. She shivered when an especially cool breeze blew over her. "Let's get inside."
"You don't think we should find someplace else to stay?"
She shook her head, thinking about Marek Disapparating himself and Mag away from her. "I don't think they'll be back, at least not yet."
When they returned to the inn, Snape requested breakfast be brought to their room. The innkeeper grumbled a reply, disappearing into the kitchen. Within a couple minutes an impatient knock sounded at their door where the innkeeper held a tray of omelets, toast, and juice.
"The Death Eater's reappearance has got me thinking again," Snape said between bites of his food. He sat on the bed while Harmony was cross-legged on the floor using her lap to hold her plate. "We are more desperate than ever to get ingredients for Polyjuice potion or some concoction which will conceal our true identities. If my Polyjuice ingredients were never stolen, you wouldn't have nearly been abducted a moment ago. We must search for opportunities to make money. We'll make it our first priority. Once we do, we can buy ingredients at Knockturn Alley."
Harmony didn't like the thought of returning to that dreary part of the Wizarding world. "Can't we get ingredients at Diagon Alley just fine?"
"Of course we can," Snape replied. "But at Knockturn we'll be able to hide ourselves better." Snape finished his toast and chased it down with the rest of his juice. "And I do believe pre-concoction Polyjuice potions can only be found in Knockturn Alley; they are very expensive, but we would benefit from them while we wait for our own brew to be made."
Harmony couldn't restrain herself: she raised her hand in the air as though she were back in the classroom. "Question," she said.
Snape's shoulders sagged. "Yes?" he said. He dragged out the "s" making him sound like an irritated snake.
Harmony dropped her hand. "Who are we turning ourselves into? We need to add bits of the person we're going to turn into."
Snape held up a single finger, raising his eyebrows, "Ah and that is one other benefit to doing our shopping in Knockturn Alley: locks of hair and fingernail clippings can be sold just for that purpose."
"That is foul," Harmony said crinkling her nose in disgust.
When they were done eating, Snape gathered their dishes and set them on the tray.
"I am going into town today," Snape said, "to see if there are any money opportunities I can pick up."
"What, like getting a job?" Harmony asked, unable to hold back a smirk. She couldn't imagine Snape doing anything else besides brewing potions. The thought of him working as a bus boy at a restaurant or as a file clerk was just too ridiculous. "I take it I won't be coming along."
"No," Snape said. "Going alone would be less conspicuous; you can stay here. Perhaps you should consider why and how the Dark Lord is sending you dreams. It may help us figure out how to use it to our advantage over the Death Eaters, as well as keeping Voldemort from regaining his full memory."
Harmony was at a loss again; she wasn't sure if she wanted Voldemort to remember everything or not. If she had it her way, he would only regain his memory of her and nothing else. They could live their lives together, just the two of them. But they would both be living a lie. Harmony knew that would be unfair to him, no matter what horrible things he has done. A selfish voice in the back of her mind told her dreams of Voldemort weren't enough; she wanted the real thing: to be able to hold him and feel his warmth for hours on end.
After Snape left, Harmony stood about the room wondering what to do. She eventually sighed, collapsing onto the unmade bed, staring up at the ceiling. She closed her eyes, wondering if she could somehow get herself to fall sleep again, so Voldemort would appear. But maybe that only worked if he was asleep as well in his Menkar cell, like a two way radio. With her hair fanned about her head like a halo of dark blond waves, she focused on her breathing, allowing herself to calm her heart beat and drift away. She didn't really go to sleep, only zoned out for merely a minute, but it was enough to bring forth some kind of reaction.
Harmony's hands were relaxed on her stomach when she felt something brush against her skin as soft as a feather. She didn't open her eyes right away, but pretended she was still asleep. She took a deep breath, inhaling a very familiar smell which conjured images in her mind of Shell cottage. The smell instantly reminded her of Voldemort sleeping in the bed next to her, chest bare, warm sheets pulled up to his waist. Now she felt the bed bow under a light weight on either side of her head, as though someone were placing each hand there. Harmony exhaled, but at the same moment a warm breath blew onto her face, she guessed from only inches away. Still, she kept her eyes closed.
Harmony felt lips brush softly on her cheekbone. That was the place she remembered she had a couple short scars, now only faint white lines. She had received the scars from a certain wicked witch named Bellatrix; the witch had discovered Harmony sleeping in Voldemort's bed and punished her for it. Now Voldemort kissed her on that exact spot as though in apology. She wasn't sure when he lifted his lips away, because the feel of his touch lingered minutes after as though a butterfly were fluttering it wings there.
Even when Voldemort whispered it made her almost jump as though it were as loud as a scream. "You want to know why?" he whispered. "You want to know why we can dream together?" He kissed one cheek like an afterthought. "Well, I have already told you why. You know the answer, Harmony." He kissed her other cheek. "You have known all along. The answer is right under your nose." His lips brushed the tip of her nose. As he spoke again, she felt his breath move down her face until he was speaking directly above her lips. "All you have to do is do what you do best."
Harmony waited impatiently for his lips to meet hers, but it never came. Then suddenly a weight dropped onto her stomach. She grunted under the force, sitting up in bed wide awake.
She opened her eyes, but Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. Harmony looked down at what caused the sudden weight; it was a book which now rested in her lap. She ran her hands over the familiar cover of the book and beneath her fingers shone the title in gold lettering. It was her book on Horcruxes—or more correctly, Voldemort's book on Horcruxes. What was it that he said? The answer is right under your nose. All you have to do is do what you do best. The answer to the latter was simple: she was best at reading, researching, and overall attaining knowledge, which she took to pride. As for the answer being right under her nose…she looked down at the book in her lap. Well, there she was.
Slowly, she curled her fingers around the edge of the cover and opened it. For the very first time since being in possession of the book, she began to read.
Harmony skimmed over the main contents page spotting chapters titled like "The Fundamentals of Horcruxes," "How to Choose the Object for your Horcrux," and "How to Choose Your Victim." Harmony swallowed wearily at the last one. But one chapter caught her eye particularly: "Horcrux Behaviors." She flipped to the indicated page number. In bold words at the top of the page wrote "Horcrux Behaviors," and just below in bullet point was "on objects."
Harmony became engrossed in her reading. She read ten pages "on objects" and was somewhat surprised it didn't end there but went on about horcrux behavior "on humans." Something about the title sent Harmony on edge. It immediately made her think of Harry. He had told her about having a piece of Voldemort's soul within him and dying in order to get rid of it. Harmony remembered how Harry had described a horcrux: it was when a murder was committed and in doing so splitting the soul, entering an object—or in Harry's case, joining with another human's soul.
Harmony and Harry's stories were connected somehow, and she remembered Snape telling her he knew only one other person who had visions of the Dark Lord sent directly by him, and that was Harry. She realized it wasn't Harry and Harmony who were connected, but Voldemort who was connected to them. Harmony felt her heart race as she continued to read on. She had soon spotted what she expected; a part was written describing how the one who now harbors a piece of the creator's soul has connected minds. They can send each other visions or false thoughts when the mind is most vulnerable—most frequently during sleep. But it didn't end there. While both minds are connected, they can experience what the other is feeling, as though they were one person.
Harmony was no longer thinking about how these indications related to Harry, but to her. The information was sound to her very own experiences; the vision-like dreams, even the emotions.
It's not possible. It can't be.
Her mind traveled back to earlier that morning while she and Voldemort were in bed together. His words ran through her head over and over:
You are me. You are me. You are me.
Harmony felt the book slip through her fingers, landing on the floor with a loud thud!
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Serpentine Series