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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 Nesting Urge

It was the middle of the night… again. And Harry could not sleep… again. Though this time it was due to hunger it was just as ridiculous. Even Kreacher was starting to look good these days, and wasn’t that a disgusting notion.

His sheets were bundled up in the middle of the bed every time he actually got to sleep and he was completely confused as to why he was laying on top of them instead of underneath.

His body was acting weird… again.

Harry didn’t know what the hell was going on with his body lately, certainly it was not food deprivation, he was eating twice his fill with all the food Mrs. Weasley tended to make –he still didn’t know how she could afford to pay for so much food- so it made no sense that he was hungry all the time. Then again, all the meat she made was… well… cooked. And he really needed something more on the bloody side.

Today had been a long day, there was way too many people in the house because of another Order meeting they were still not allowed to attend and the twins were driving everyone insane, that along with the still persistent snoring, his hunger and the blatant Ministry approved slander were in turn cutting the reins of his composure very, very, short. He was sure at some point he was going to blow up on someone.

Harry was grateful everyone was asleep. It meant he could sneak about and find something proper to eat. Once he made it to the kitchen though, he was very disappointed and highly peeved; there were plenty of left-overs but no uncooked meat.

‘Bloddy hell! Fish, fish, fish, just bloody fucking fish… what the hell would I want fish for? Where the hell is the meat?!’

It was time to hunt then.

He took his cloak, and still barefoot, made his way out to the conveniently placed miles of park just across the street. In the cover of darkness his eyes turned yellow, though without the deathly glow which could take a man down in seconds, and his face adorned scales and sharp pointy fangs dripping with venom at the prospect of a nice juicy morsel. His scaled feet made almost no noise as he walked through the trees smelling he air in search of prey.

In under twenty minutes he had a small fox with a broken neck in his hands and without thought he was crouching under a tree in the light of the pale moon as he stripped the pet of the animal’s body with his clawed hands. He didn’t think it twice before sinking his teeth on it and begun to eat like an animal starving while moaning in pleasure.

It really did hit the spot.

“Well, that’s just…” a voice began. “Cruel, that’s what that is mate.” Another finished.

He looked up startled –Harry could not believe he was so out of it he didn’t hear someone coming- and was confronted with Fred and George leaning against a tree right in front of him.

‘Fuck.’

“Have you no pity” “For us foxes?”

He didn’t know what to say, honestly, what do you say to fox animagus when the catch you in flagrante delicto chewing on dead fox?

“Are going to eat us Harry?” They asked in unison, which was still creepy as hell.

What the hell do you answer to that? Except… maybe… “No”

“Alright” “We can work with that”

“I was getting a bit peaky and all there was in the house was fish, clearly I was craving something else.”

“Clearly.” Again with that creepy twin speak… it made chills go down his back. No matter how many times he heard it, it was still so weird how they knew what the other will say, as if they could read each other’s mind.

“I like the eyes by the way.”

“And the scales, aren’t the scales brilliant Gred?”

“Why, yes, Forge. Very interesting, might want to keep them out of the public eye though, it might freak out the sheep-like masses.”

“Very funny you two. What are you doing out here in the middle of the night anyways? Getting into some mischief?”

“Says the boy eating fox, raw might I add, in the middle of a park.” “A bit hypocritical of you mate.”

Harry looked at them none too amused at their assessment of his character.

He hoped they did not ask about his new eating habits.

“We were making a deal for ingredients for some of our new jokes.” ‘Would that have been so bad to say to begin with?’ He wondered. “We’ll let you try them first if you want.”

“No, thank you.”

“Don’t be a sourpuss Harry, us creatures of the night have to stick by each other… why are you rubbing dirt on that pelt?”

“So that it doesn’t drip blood when I take it inside.”

“Why?” Did they always have to do that or was it because they knew it creeped people out?

“I’m saving it for something.”

“Saving it…” “For what?”

“I’ve got no bloody idea.”

They went back into the house, Harry looking his human self again, and parted ways after reaching the top of the stairs. The twins didn’t address the glaring elephant in the room and Harry found himself grateful.

The next morning saw a very chipper Harry come to the breakfast table, considering how he had been very bitchy –for lack of a better word- ever since he arrived, everyone was rather confused. Harry was just content all his food needs had been met for the first time in months.

The twins watched him closely, he did not give two craps about it knowing they would be discrete and not comment their discovery to others. Soon though, he was expecting them to come ask what the hell was up with him and his sneaky new self.

It did not happen until a moment of solitude in the train, to which he just replied “It’s been me for a while now.”

“Okay.” They said, and that was that.

‘That, wasn’t as bad as I expected.’

Bless the twins for knowing not to press when people were hiding something, it helped that he too was aware of some of the things they were hiding.

The ride to school on the carriages was interesting to say the least. Did he mention the creepy horses apparently only people who saw someone die could see? Well, there were creepy horses only people who had seen someone die could see.

Things got worse from there, the new defense teacher was practically sucking the fun out of the school experience, the Ministry continued to drag his name through the mud, Dumbledore wasn’t talking to him and Harry was sure the man was actively avoiding him, people hated him… again… Umbridge was personally out to get him and torturing him at every turn, he was having nightmares about a fucking door of all things, they weren’t learning squat on Defense, Malfoy was going to drive him to premeditated murder, and Hermione was trying very hard in all her nagging way to convince him to teach a clandestine class on DADA. He was certain it mainly was so she didn’t fail her OWLs but who was he to judge.

To top it all off he was itching really bad on his lower back and it was all he could do to pretend that itch wasn’t there and everything was normal. He was hornier than he had ever been since he hit puberty and that relentless hunger was driving him mad. His body was sore all over, he was running on pepper up to keep up appearances, and the growing bulge in his pelvis was really starting to bother him; it was very tender and sometimes even hurt as if something inside of him was about to tear.

He considered going to Pomfrey.

And dismissed it immediately.

It was a Tuesday around two in the morning when he suddenly came to awareness that he was in the dungeons, apparently sleep walking, and Snape –Of course it had to be bloody Snape- looked irked to no end leading Harry to believe he had been talking to him for a few minutes already. It seemed Snape did not care about the ‘no waking a sleep walker’ rule.

He had no bloody idea why the hell he was in the dungeons to begin with and felt rather offended by the prospect of having to serve detention for sleep walking, but hey, it was Snape… he should have expected it.

The next day, all sheets disappeared from Griffindor boy’s dorm. No one knew how but most suspected some kind of twin prank, except the twins had no sheets either. Two days later he was suddenly in the dungeons again, in what looked like a professor’s quarters, and before him in a corner there was a large pile of sheets.

‘I guess, that explains that… sort of.’

In his hands was a large bundle of animal pelts, most of which he did not even remember collecting. Harry was rather confused.

‘What is going on with me?’

He was so tired. It seemed as if he was falling asleep standing right there, his vision blurred and next thing he knew he was waking up naked, laying curled up on the furs which were surrounded by sheets in some sort of strange nest on the cold floor in the humid dungeon room. He did not even what to think about this right now, it was close to two hours before breakfast and he needed to get back to the Tower before someone figured out he had not been there half the night.

It kept happening all through the week, on and off he would find himself curled up on the ‘nest’ either in the afternoon when he was sure he had been somewhere else doing something just minutes before, except, when he casted Tempus it had been an hour, sometimes even two, since he last had awareness of himself. Hermione had assumed he wanted time on his own because of Umbridge and everything else going on and ran interference for him even though he had not asked her to, he didn’t disabuse her of that idea, mainly because he himself did not know what was going on and didn’t want people worrying too much about him and becoming overbearing.

One day, he came to the rooms of his own volition and found there was wood on the fireplace and it was a light, there had been several rugs –clearly stolen from Gryffindor common room- covering the floor, some bowls of fruit, bread and milk in stasis and a chair.

‘When the fuck did those get here?’

There were more furs on the pile on the corner of the quarter’s bedroom where he apparently was setting up some sort of home, one of them looked like it came from a wolf and seemed to be fresh still. He had no recollection of going wolf hunting –likely in the Forbidden Forest- or food gathering, not of all the other random things around the room.

The whole thing was becoming rather worrying.

He had tried several times to get rid of the stuff in the room and just could not get himself to for some reason he could not understand. He had a feeling his life was going to get more complicated soon.

He was right.

The night Umbridge had sacked Trelawney Harry was accosted by the most terrible pain he had ever experienced… aside from the Crusiatus… and for some reason he knew he had to make it to the room in the hidden quarters behind a tapestry in the dungeons –which he still didn’t know how he found in the first place- once he got there he went straight to the pile and fell asleep only to wake up still there and naked the next morning.

It was the very first time he was thankful to the Dursley’s conditioning which forced him to wake up at the crack of dawn and gave him enough time to get to the tower and pretend he had been there all night.

He spent the following week going to sleep on the fur and sheets pile in the humid dungeons with a roaring fire to keep the place warm. Harry took advantage of the private bathroom to sink into a tub of boiling water and shedding his skin, which he spent about three hours peeling off himself in a rather slow and painful endeavor. He felt that by the end of the week his blood was more pepper up and pain relief potions than actual blood.

Between this and Hermione having convinced him to have the clandestine defense classes -their little club was named the Dumbledore’s Army which he thought was rather compromising but everyone was so excited about it they saw no reason- he barely had time to think of what was going on with him personally and still had not gotten to come to terms with the events after the third trial.

To make it all even stranger he apparently could taste people now… or the air around them… as if he needed more weird snake changes to his body at this moment. It was an awful experience trying to control how his nose and tongue would pick up the scents in the air about him and in the beginning it was rather overwhelming.

Umbridge had tasted way too sweet and Filch was just disgusting but Snape tasted like cinnamon for some strange reason –he wasn’t sure how he felt about that- McGonagal tasted like cat which made him hungry every time, he did not know exactly what Flitwick tasted like but it was not appetizing at all. And then, when he finally got a handle of that he found that see could now see body heat signatures floating about people, it was very distracting.

He had a feeling this year was shaping up to be one of his worst… and it wasn’t even October.
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Because We Are Snakes