Author's Notes: It's really annoying to post on here with the way I write this up, so I expect this will always get updates later. Anyway, here's an update!

Chapter 3

Returning to Hogwarts, for once, wasn't something Harry was looking forward to. Summer at Malfoy Manor, despite everything, had the feel of a good dream he didn't want to wake up from. Hogwarts meant avoiding Dumbledore's machinations and desperately hiding his true self from people he spent most of the day with.

At least he no longer had to go out of his way to hide his friendships. A fact Harry exercised in full to shock people on the Platform and in the Express on the way back. The Slytherins, of course, thought it was hilarious and played along.

They had to separate for the feast and Harry settled down between Hermione (who seemed to be avoiding any confrontation by keeping her nose in a book) and Neville. The rest of the Gryffindors were torn between glaring at Harry and pretending he didn't exist, and Harry wondered if it was his new outlook or simply a buildup of tolerance that made him not care.

But the whole House was united in outrage when they found out Snape would be the new Defense teacher.

"Are you...are you okay?"

Harry raised his head from his folded arms, realizing with an internal grown he'd forgotten to close his eyes again. It was becoming instinct to just cover them with something, even in the dimly lit back corners of the library.

"Uh, yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Hermione frowned, moved just a bit closer to his table, keeping her voice low. "I just...I know we've been growing apart, but I still think of you as a friend, Harry. I still care about you. And if you...if you ever need my help with something, I want you to know I'll give it."

She left before he could answer, leaving him staring after her.

Harry's favorite and least favorite classes had flipped and he actually found himself grateful for it. Though he'd gotten an O on his Potions OWL (largely thanks to Draco), he still didn't feel very comfortable with the subject. And as for DADA, well, he was already ahead of the rest of the class, having actually learned something the year before, and while he didn't like that his grade would be lower, at least it meant that he wouldn't have to deal with Snape again the next year.

Voldemort had, upon hearing the news, admitted to being the one to set the curse on the position.

Along with the suspicious change in staffing (what were Snape and Dumbledore up to, Harry wondered, and how could Harry himself avoid getting caught up in it?), suddenly Dumbledore seemed to want Harry's attention. Harry didn't even pretend to care, ignoring any summons he received from the Headmaster.

"He's going to force you to talk to him eventually, you know."

Harry wrinkled his nose, flipping over on the rug before the Slytherin common room's fireplace and glaring at Draco. "If I can put it off a few more months, I will."

The others didn't seem so convinced he could. And they were, regretfully, right.

McGonagall cornered him, eventually, marching him up to the Headmaster's Office as she tutted at him for his insubordination. They'd gone by a few Slytherins on their way and Harry had given them a pointed look if McGonagall wasn't watching, knowing they'd let his friends know where he was.

"Harry, my boy, it is good to finally see you."

Harry shifted in the doorway before reluctantly striding deeper into Dumbledore's office, taking a seat across from the desk.

"Lemon drop?" The slightest of pause for Harry to shake his head. "Now, I know last year may have been...difficult for you, and that I was not as approachable as I wished to be, but I thought we could mend our relationship."

After the meeting with Dumbledore, Harry felt...off-center. He knew the old man hadn't gotten the chance to mess with his mind magically, but the information he'd started to reveal was intense. And probably not anything Voldemort wanted anyone, even Harry, to know.

It took him days to figure out what to say, putting off all of his friends questions as he wrote and rewrote the letter in his head, before putting it to parchment and sending it off.

He felt Voldemort's rage through the connection a few hours later and knew he was reading it.

Instructions were passed to him through a Slytherin 7th year. It was more circumspect than Harry was expecting, considering the violent reaction to the news, especially the end.

Ϩ ...Continue attending these meetings. Learn everything that he knows. I will watch the details in your memories next we meet.Ϩ

Frowning, Harry remembered a time he'd be upset if someone casually mentioned going through his head without first getting his permission. Coming from Voldemort, though, it just seemed natural.

In late October, a letter arrived from Sirius, from a Malfoy eagle owl that Harry had begun to recognize. He ignored the curious looks at the table, abandoning the food he hadn't been planning on eating, and left. At least it gave him an excuse, sitting around poking at food his changed metabolism didn't yet require him to eat was one of the more boring parts of the day.

"Well?" Pansy pushed onto the windowsill that Harry sat in, pointing at the letter.

"Sirius has been granted a trial-a real trial. Mr. Malfoy has...the utmost confidence that it will go in Sirius' favor. There's going to be veritaserum, all questions will be limited to the timeframe around the attack...I…" he smiled, "I think Sirius is going to be free."

All around him, smiles and supportive nods greeted the news. Sirius hadn't been a Death Eater, but he was still a Pureblooded Black and with his allegiance to Harry, that made him favorable to the Slytherins now.

It was the best Halloween Harry had ever had, knowing that soon his godfather would be free.

Sirius was declared innocent, as everyone knew he would be (even if Harry had been nervous the whole trial). He'd had the full weight of the Pureblood institution behind him, Death Eaters working behind the scenes, and the Malfoys leaning on their own personal contacts. Plus the Minister, who Harry had met personally, to tell of how Sirius had protected him from Peter Pettigrew in 3rd year.

Freedom, however, did not mean everything immediately adjusted to how it would have been if Sirius hadn't been in Azkaban-he had a whole year of Mind-healing to attend before he'd be allowed custody of Harry and apparently most of the Black properties needed major repairs, so he'd be staying with the Malfoys on top of that.

Still, they were allowed to see each other if another adult was supervising and Narcissa was more than willing to be dragged to Hogsmeade on the weekends to have lunch with Harry and an extra-excitable Sirius.

Who also seemed to be trying to make up for years of Azkaban rations by eating everything he could get his hands on, much to their amusement. And which worked out perfectly for Harry, as his appetite became smaller and smaller he was learning how best to look as if he was still eating normal portions, and passing things off to Sirius was working even under Narcissa's watchful gaze.

According to the records, Harry was spending Winter Break with the Malfoys. In truth, he was with Voldemort. There was no other way to gain first-hand instruction on being a Parselmouth and Voldemort was surprisingly patient with Harry.

There were, however, no holiday celebrations. Voldemort scoffed just as much at the traditional Wizarding religions as he did at Muggle-influenced ones-religion was a human necessity, a pretty lie to make them feel better about their lives. Not something their kind needed, not unless they were the ones being worshipped.

Instead, they travelled. Voldemort was strong enough for side-along international apparition and took Harry to forests and ruins, to Wizarding cities Hogwarts had never once mentioned. It was just a few days, but more travel than Harry had ever done in his entire life.

After the second location, with Voldemort narrating the history of the people whose ruined city they stood in, Harry realized that these all were places they would have been worshipped. Where they would have been kings, emperors, maybe even gods. It was humbling to think about it, but also...well, he couldn't help but feel it was right, too. He didn't know if that was Voldemort rubbing off on him or part of his transformation, but of course humans would see them as superior, because they were.

When he voiced that, Voldemort ran a hand through Harry's hair, claws tracing delicately over his scalp. § Many of these civilizations fell because they abandoned the old ways. They abandoned us and the other beings like us. We protected our followers, as all good lords must, but once forsaken our numbers diminished, vanished entirely in some of these regions. §

When they returned, Harry was given books on everything he'd seen, which he read through without protest. The ones for humans often painted a very different story than the Parselscript ones that remained of some of the cultures and Harry wondered which one told the actual truth.

Harry had yet to talk to anyone about the more...disturbing changes that Voldemort had hinted at. He knew when they came, he'd be too far gone to care, but he worried about what people around him would think.

Now that his time alone with Voldemort was coming to an end, he drew on what Gryffindor courage he had left and asked.

§You will become an expert on glamour charms § Voldemort smirked at him, his sharp teeth stained pink from the meal they were having. § But once you are out of Hogwarts, you can become more lax. Most of the changes will be hidden under your clothing.§

§ What about,§ Harry hesitated. § What about...lovers? §

The look Voldemort gave him was familiar by this point, a sort of 'you're so young and naive' expression that annoyed the hell out of Harry even while he knew he'd probably earned it.

§Lovers will become...less appealing. The thought of a human's skin against yours, their hands on you, their...§ Voldemort allowed himself to trail off, because Harry had already given a small shudder, his expression growing more and more disgusted. §You do not have to take a lover, little one. That is a human convention. If you do not wish to procreate, there is no need to indulge in such things.§

Harry frowned, looking down, wondering what that might mean if he continued some sort of relationship with Draco. Draco who most likely expected sex to play some part of it, given his obvious attraction to Harry. But that was to the human act Harry put on, the still-mostly-human body that Harry wore.

§ But to...procreate- § if Harry was still capable of blushing, he would have been bright red, § isn't that something I should do? There's only two of us left. §

Something dark lurked behind Voldemort's eyes as his attention turned back to Harry. §You are still very young, you have years yet before you need to consider such things. §

§ With the way my life is? I might not make it 'years,' § Harry muttered.

Voldemort's hand slammed down on the table, causing Harry to jump. § Do you think so little of my protection? § He stood, looming over Harry. His magic had been layered thick around the room, a comforting weight, but now it whipped at Harry's own, anger at the insult clear.

Harry cringed back, instincts screaming at him as he realized his mistake. § Elder, no! I...I was thinking as a human might. I apologize. I know you would not allow permanent harm to befall me.§

Red eyes stayed narrowed, his nostrils flaring, tongue flicking out. But, as Voldemort settled into what must be deep thoughts, he calmed. §Yes, perhaps I expect too much of you, given your environment. This summer, you will stay with me. §

His magic calmed, but did not return to the laze it had been in, instead it gripped Harry, holding him like a constrictor.

Harry didn't dare question it. He was glad that was all the 'punishment' he would face.

After the break, Harry made a concentrated effort to speak to Hermione more. He remembered what an asset she had been, and couldn't help but have some nostalgia for their old friendship. He wasn't sure he could be that close to any human, anymore, but it was nice to remember it.

But more exposure to him and his changes meant she was catching on and it made him nervous.

"Your skin is looking dull," she commented, seemingly out of nowhere, during a study session with just the two of them-Gryffindor free while Slytherin was at one of their classes.

Harry glanced down at his hands, frowning. They did look a little...ashy. And he'd been feeling weirdly...confined, recently. Like his skin was getting too tight for him.

"You're probably going to molt soon."

Harry's head whipped up. "What?"

Hermione gave a wry smile. "That's what snakes do, right? Start looking dull and then molt? There's not really any books in here on Parselmouths, so I looked at some of the herpetology ones."

"Hermione…."

She took a deep breath before reaching across the table and placing a hand over his-it had been awhile since he'd actually looked at the differences between his hands and human ones and he couldn't help but notice how his nails were starting to get just a little more claw-like. She seemed to, too, frowning down at them.

"We should start painting our nails. I bet we can convince Zabini to do it, too. Start a fad."

"'Mione…." Something in Harry's voice broke, an emotion he couldn't identify anymore sneaking through.

"I don't care what you are, Harry. You're still you."

He turned his hand over and squeezed hers, wishing he wasn't going to prove her wrong in the future.