Disclaimer: I do not own HP. I repeat, I do NOT own HP. But, of course, you lot know this, right? If not, whack yourself repeatedly in the head with a blunt object until you do.
Serpens Erus Temptatio
"Serpent Lord's Temptation"
Chapter 1 – Down to This
It was a stormy night at Hogwarts. The enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall rolled with dark clouds and lighting as the first years were lead in for the Sorting Ceremony. Most of the Sorting Hat's song was drowned out by loud peals of thunder and then the first year's were called up by Edward Windmyer, who had replaced McGonagall as Transfiguration professor after she had become Headmistress in Dumbledore's stead."Adcock, Rosalyn!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Allen, Gabriel!"
"GRYFFINDOR!"
"Cadden, Melanie!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
As Professor Windmyer continued to read out names, McGonagall leaned over to the man sitting to her right and whispered, "Which one is our young Snape again?"
"The dark-haired one," came the gruff reply as the witch looked out at the sea of heads, most of them dark-haired.
McGonagall gave the young man a slight glower and said, "Mister Potter, you continue to be the most infuriating child I have ever met."
Harry smiled slightly at her and said, "Professor, I haven't been a child since I was eleven and started fighting Voldemort."
"I know. Now, which one is Severus'?"
"The dark-haired one," repeated Harry, smirking.
"Harry…"
"I'm sorry, professor. I promised Sev when I got this job that I'd do his job for him."
"And what job would that be?"
Harry grinned and replied, "Annoying you, of course."
"Of course," said McGonagall with a roll of her eyes. "I should have known. Now, will you answer my question?"
"The lad with the gray tabby on his head." Harry tilted his head towards the eleven-year-old, who indeed had a small, gray tabby-cat perched upon his head. McGonagall frowned at the creature then looked at the wizard beside her.
"You're doing, I suppose?"
"Actually," said Harry, "it was Hagrid. He was the one who sent me Dusa."
"Where is that cat of yours, by the way?"
"In my rooms." Harry frowned then and added, "At least, I hope she is."
McGonagall arched an eyebrow at him then turned back to the Sorting as a name they both recognized was called out.
"Snape, Tristen!"
The dark-haired boy shuffled forward, the tiny tabby perched in his nest of wavy hair. His dark eyes wandered over the Head Table before they landed upon the only face he knew there.
That of his godfather, one Harry James Potter.
Harry smiled at the eleven-year-old, who grinned back before pulling the tabby off his head and hopping up onto the stool. The cat meowed at being removed from her perch and pawed at her master's hands as the Sorting Hat was dropped down atop his head.
"What House?" asked McGonagall quietly to Harry.
"One never knows," replied Harry cryptically, his serpentine eyes swirling as he watched the back of the slight boy.
Abruptly the Sorting Hat straightened and yelled out, "SLYTHERIN!"
Tristen Snape ripped the Sorting Hat from his head and leapt off the stool, the tabby cat leaping back up to nestle in his hair. He grinned widely at his godfather before he hurried over to join his House.
McGonagall smiled as she leaned over towards Harry and said, "Looks like you have a new student. Aye, Head of Slytherin?"
The corner of Harry's mouth twitched up in a smirk as he replied, "Looks like I do."
After the Sorting, Harry wandered outside onto the grounds. A cold, brisk wind whipped his robes out behind him as he walked across the swaying grass. His dark hair, which he had allowed to grow out to his shoulders, covered his eyes at some points in time and flew straight back behind him at others.
He weaved his way across the grounds towards the Forbidden Forest, where several pairs of bright white eyes watched him. Harry gently brushed his fingertips over the dark scars on his wrist as he smiled at the creatures standing before him.
"I never thanked any of you for your help," he whispered as one of the Thestral's stepped forward. "None of us did."
The creature snorted, as though agreeing with him, and stretched out its neck to nuzzle at his hand. Harry stroked the velvety nose and said, "Thank you. For everything. The battle, your protection…I'm glad you believed I was worth it."
You are, whispered a voice in his head. Brother…
Harry smiled and patted the slender neck before he turned and walked towards a small hill. The Thestral followed him, moving slowly along beside him. After a moment, Harry reached out and laid a hand on the broad back of the creature.
He stopped at the top of the hill, staring down at three gray stones that had been placed there thirteen years before. Kneeling down beside them, he plucked up three blades of grass and held them in his hand, palm open to the now clear sky above. His eyes closed partially and the blades of grass shivered before they lengthened, growing leaves and scarlet petals. When the emerald eyes opened, three perfect roses lay across his palm.
The Thestral snuffled and leaned its head against his shoulder as Harry placed a rose upon each of the graves.
Neville Longbottom
"A brave friend lost too soon but never to be forgotten."
Ronald Weasley
"A good friend lost to Darkness. May he find his way back someday."
Virginia Weasley
"Love lost to Darkness. Hope turned to sorrow. Tears were shed on her passing and shall be shed on the 'morrow. Her soul lingers on, waiting for a certain someone to join her. Until then, she waits…in sadness and in sorrow."
Harry laid a hand on the third tombstone and slowly leaned forward to place a kiss on the cold marble. When he pulled back, there were tears on his cheeks and on the stone.
"I never told you how much I loved you," he whispered to the stone. "I thought if I did I'd lose you. I lost everything I ever loved. My mum and dad to Voldemort, Sirius to Azkaban, and you to that bastard Aubrey." He tucked his chin to his chest and continued to himself, "Did you ever know I loved you?"
"Uncle Harry?"
The dark head jerked up and Harry stared at the form of his godson, who was standing nearby. Dark eyes watched him and frowned as they saw the tears streaking his godfather's cheeks.
"Why are you crying?"
"Old memories," replied Harry, rising heavily to his feet. He patted the Thestral's shoulder then turned and walked over to his godson. Placed a hand on the thin shoulder, he turned the boy towards the castle. "Why aren't you in your common room?"
"I wanted to talk to you. Besides, I'm an in-insoomiach like Father."
"You mean an insomniac."
"Yeah. Who were you talking to?" This was asked as the two of them entered the castle.
"An old friend," replied Harry heavily. "It's nothing for you to worry about, Tris."
"Okay. Good night, Uncle Harry."
"Night, kiddo."
As Harry turned to head towards his rooms, Tristen spoke up.
"Uncle Harry?"
"Hmmm?" Harry turned to arch an eyebrow at his godson, who smiled slightly at him.
"Whoever you were talking to, I bet they knew you loved them."
Harry's chest tightened and he coughed before croaking, "Thank you, Tris."
"You're welcome, Uncle Harry. Night."
"Night," mumbled Harry, heading towards his rooms. As he did, he felt a hand brush his cheek and the feel of lips brushing his.
Or perhaps he just imagined it.
Either way, as he continued towards his rooms to get ready for his first class as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and Head of Slytherin House, he felt a weight that had been on his chest for thirteen years lift.
Out on the grounds, the rose lying on Ginny's grave slowly set down roots and stood up, petals shining scarlet in the light from the stars above.
A/N: Yeah, I know that I'm repeating a bit from the alternate last chapter of VVBane. Go with me here.