Wizard's Apprentice

Chapter 3

As soon as the door was opened, the Wizard was practically shoved aside by the fat man, a beefy hand moving him out of the way. "I know that freak's here," he growled out, "so don't bother saying you haven't seen him. Where is he?"

"I wouldn't dream of lying to you, sir. Your nephew is in the kitchen, waiting for you." He showed the large man the way, discreetly brushing off his robes as though trying to wipe away the man's touch. In the kitchen, Vernon Dursley turned to glare at Voldemort, his face turning so red it looked ready to deepen into purple.

"Well? Where is he? You said he was in here." Voldemort merely pointed calmly under the table. There were four black puppies under the table, looking back at the men. "What in the ruddy hell is going on here?" Vernon growled.

"One of those puppies is your nephew. If you choose the wrong one, you leave and never return. If you choose the right one, you win two more chances to recognize him. Choose the right one all three times, and you can have him." Voldemort's voice was soft and raspy, and he spoke calmly, though Harry would've identified it as being 'smug' sounding, having gotten used to his moods in their time at the shop together.

"And what's to stop me from taking him right now?"

"Me," the Wizard hissed out, standing straight and tall, red eyes burning in his pale face as he smirked more cruelly than Harry had ever seen.

"And who the devil are you?"

"I am the Evil Wizard, Lord Voldemort," was the hissed reply. But Vernon Dursley visibly recoiled, obviously deeply displeased at the news.

"You're a freak, is what you are," the fat man growled back. "I could turn you into the police for kidnapping and holding my nephew prisoner." Then he tried to give his own smirk back, though it wasn't as confident as Voldemort's was. "Lucky for you, I'm a good person, and a good sport. I'll play your little game." He looked down at the puppies and began to nudge them with his foot. Three of the puppies were happy to pounce on the shoe and play, chewing at the leather, but one puppy moved back away from him, whining softly each time the shoe came near him, curling in as if to protect his stomach from a kick. Grinning smugly, Vernon reached out and snatched the puppy by the scruff of the neck, causing it to turn back into a young boy with wild black hair and bright green eyes. "You always were a coward," he snarled, though he was grasping thin air as Harry disappeared.

"Once," Voldemort declared, then led him to the storage room, where there were numerous boxes waiting to be unpacked. In a corner were four spider webs, with four identical spiders in the centers of them. "One of these is your nephew-" the Wizard began, but Vernon interrupted him, waving his words off.

"I know, I know. Be quiet and let me concentrate." He leaned in to study each spider and their web. Then he inspected them a second, and a then a third time. The fat uncle leaned in close to try and see any small details, and he began to curse angrily under his breath about the 'filthy little freak', his breath rattling their webs. Three of the spiders curled into little knots, trying to look dead or invisible, as if seeing him as a possible predator. But one of the spiders, not having these natural instincts, did not. And Vernon laughed as he pulled back and pointed. "That one."

Harry appeared beneath the web, looking worried and depressed, as if he knew the outcome already. Vernon reached out to grab him, but he disappeared again.

"Twice," Voldemort told him, but before he could move the fat man was up and in his face.

"What's next? I don't have all evening, you know! Hurry it up!" Frowning in annoyance, Voldemort nodded and picked up a lantern, lighting it before leading Vernon outside into the darkness. In a tree by the shop, on the fringe of the forest, sat four black ravens. They were young and just ready to fly, and Vernon waddled over to the nest to lean in and try to figure out which one was his nephew. But as he approached the nest, three of the ravens reacted, flying at the fat man and pecking and cawing angrily at him. One of the ravens quickly hopped onto the nest, facing the forest, and spread its wings to fly.

"That one!" Harry's uncle declared, pointing at the bird that immediately turned back into a twelve-year-old boy. Before anything could stop him, Vernon grabbed Harry by the back of his shirt, the other three ravens flying off. Harry struggled and squirmed, trying to get out of his uncle's beefy grip, but at the sound of a hissing sigh, he froze and looked over to Voldemort. The man seemed to be disappointed, but he shrugged.

"And thrice. You've won. Harry's yours." The boy seemed to lose all of his energy, and he slumped at his uncle's feet. At least, until Vernon kicked at him and told him to 'get in the damn car'. Refusing Voldemort's offer of a meal, or at least tea, the Dursley patriarch forced his nephew into the vehicle, not letting him retrieve anything from his room. Within moments, they were on the road, driving away from the small bookshop Harry had come to think of as a possible home.

At the first red light, Harry threw the door open and tried to run for it. But Vernon was prepared, and he reached out and snatched his nephew back into the car before he'd even gotten out. Grabbing some rope, he tied the boy's hands and feet, locking the door and laughing at him as the light turned green and they continued on towards what Harry knew was his prison. But as he began to drive, the heavens seemed to open up, and a severe thunderstorm kicked up, lightning flashing across the sky as the roads quickly flooded, and visibility dropped. Suddenly the car skidded and slid, and there was a crash, crunching metal heard as they collided head-first into something. Furious, Vernon threw the car into park and turned it off before climbing out to go see what he'd hit.

Looking out the door his uncle had left open, Harry was shocked to see a very familiar snake slither out from behind his uncle's seat and out into the storm, pausing to look back at him. "Well?" it hissed, then slithered off, like it was expecting Harry to follow. After all, Harry had always followed, anytime he saw Nagini behave like that. With a quick gasp, Harry realized the answer to his problem. He quickly transformed himself into a snake to slither off after the familiar serpent. But as he was slipping out of Vernon's open door, the fat man returned, roaring furiously at the sight of his missing nephew, and the snake trying to escape. He reached out to grab Harry, but the boy slithered away quickly, using the currents of water to hurry him away. Now Vernon grabbed a pistol from under his seat, and took off after Harry.

Terrified, the 12-year-old slithered into the woods, trying to escape Vernon's reach. But his small body, compared to his uncle's, meant he covered much less ground. Plus he didn't know the woods, and certainly not from this viewpoint. He didn't know which way to go, and it was only a matter of time before he could feel Vernon coming closer, his feet causing vibrations in the small snake's body. It only made Harry more frightened, and he couldn't even think anymore, resorting to simply panicking and trying to go.

A real snake would've registered the smells and sounds and the taste of the air. A real snake would've known there had been more than one mudslide nearby, caused by the rain. A real snake would've slithered away from the unstable ground that could crush him. Harry slithered towards it. It was only by sheer, dumb luck that he slithered around the precarious mound of earth, while Vernon chose to go over it, pointing his pistol and cursing at his nephew, planning to at least shoot his tail off. He didn't care if the boy was hurt or anything, so long as he had his free labor back. The freak could heal.

But the earth gave away, and Vernon was caught up in the landslide, spitting out mud as it flowed over him, carrying him down a steep hill and away from Harry. The pistol fired repeatedly as he fell, and Harry slithered faster than he thought he could in his terror. It had been one thing to escape an abusive uncle. It was another when he felt his life was actually in danger. He slithered so fast, and without pause, until he heard another slithering nearby. His belly burned from moving along it for so long, but he still glanced over to see what was there. A black snake was slithering right alongside him, bright red eyes burning as lightning flashed over them. And then there was a very familiar, hissing laugh.

"That was exciting," Voldemort told him as the two snakes finally paused to rest. Harry couldn't even think of trying to move at the moment, his entire body ached.

"He was going to shoot me!" He told his former master as he tried to gulp down air and rainwater.

"Probably. The man's a weak fool, with a brain no larger than a pea. Especially for racing off into a nighttime storm like that. He deserves whatever happened to him." Now Harry froze, his conscience speaking up in the back of his currently snake-y brain.

"I didn't kill him, did I? He's not dead, right?"

Voldemort scoffed, as best a snake could in that form. "One can only wish. No, I think he'll have gotten a fright, and perhaps even pneumonia from running about in this storm. Maybe a broken arm or leg at the worst. But we can hope he's too stupid or stubborn to go to the hospital, and the pneumonia could kill him. Or a wound can get infected." If anything, Voldemort sounded amused, or thoughtful, as though planning for the future.

Just as Harry began to relax, a new terror gripped him. "So he'll be able to come after me again?" he asked, body tensing up again. Surely if Vernon was willing to shoot him just for running away, then he would kill him over a broken bone.

But Voldemort let out another hissing laugh, his mouth opening to show fangs glistening with venom as if in threat. "Of course not."

Harry thought about asking if Voldemort was sure, but decided against it. The man was an evil Wizard. Not only would he know more than anyone else, but he wouldn't want his apprentice to ask too many questions. As a third snake joined them, a large boa, Voldemort uncoiled himself and began to slither slowly in the way the other snake had come from.

"If we want to be back before the sun rises, then we'll have to get going now. Though, that's if you even want to come back." When Harry, who had been slithering tiredly towards the self-proclaimed Lord, stopped and looked at him in confusion, Voldemort coiled halfway and looked down at the boy-turned-snake. "You won your freedom. You might want to go live a normal life, with a normal person, learning a normal trade. Maybe even go to school." Harry's response was immediate.

"Nope," he answered, slithering alongside Nagini towards the bookstore. "Can we have toast with jam and sunny-side-up eggs for breakfast? Maybe some bacon?"

"Only if you make it," Voldemort replied, joining the other snakes on their trek home.

...

There's an evil Wizard living in Little Whinging, Surrey. It says so on the sign hanging outside his shop. Sometimes tourists go in, looking for a book on the occult, or just a cheap thrill.

In the kitchen, two men sit at the table, bending over books and bowls of herbs, powders, and flasks of liquids. In the middle of the table was a small cauldron, and they were discussing the potion they were currently working on. The younger of the two is a 16 year old with wild black hair and bright green eyes, unhindered by the glasses he'd worn before his mentor corrected his eyesight with magic. It had been a birthday gift when he turned 13. Nagini had gifted him with a dead rabbit, which he'd used to cook their dinner. She had found it practical and perfect, and something she could provide without a Wizard's assistance.

The other man was also young, perhaps in his mid-to-late 20's, with slightly wavy dark chocolate brown hair, combed neatly each morning, though it was usually not as neat by lunch. Right now a lock of it was partially covering one of his dark blue eyes, and Tom Riddle blew it away with a puff from full lips, to move it away from his straight, rather normal nose. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight streaming in through the window, though Harry was a little tanner than him, enjoying being in the sun with Nagini more, while Tom tended to stay in the shade while reading outside.

Both men looked up when at the bell at the door rang, signifying someone wanted to enter the store. Eyes connected over the cauldron, and then Tom looked back down to the book, tossing a pinch of powder into the deep black pot. "Don't look at me," he told his companion, who continued to watch him. "I was the Evil Wizard last time. Besides, my foot's been hurting from when you dropped that book on my foot earlier."

"What you mean," Harry replied with a grin, "is that you're halfway through this new potion, and you don't want to be interrupted." This earned him a half-hearted swat at his head, which Harry easily dodged with a quiet laugh.

"If you don't respect my authority, apprentice, I'll turn you into a mouse for Nagini," Tom threatened, dark eyes teasing as he smirked at the teen. Harry rolled his eyes and got up, pulling on the black robe and tying it across his shoulders. His jeans and t-shirt were immediately disguised as a black suit with a grey shirt and black tie. As he reached out for the mask, he was suddenly pulled down, Tom's lips pressing against his for a brief moment before he nudged the teen towards the door. "Don't blow it," he reminded Harry, who grinned before pulling on the mask.

Thanks to the magic, the mask wrapped around his head, causing his eyes to glow red, and his nose and lips to look nearly non-existent. His wild black hair disappeared under it to make him look bald, and he slipped on the shoes with the extra added two inches to the insole, allowing him to look taller. After all, he was still shorter than the already-tall Tom Marvolo Riddle. The bell rang again, and Harry slipped out the door with a wink and a wave at his partner before heading towards the door, Nagini hissing up at him her displeasure at having been woken from her nap by the fireplace as she joined him. He petted her head fondly, still liking how she had snuck into his uncle's car that night in her decision to help her young master escape. Though she would imply that Tom had insisted on it, as well. And if Vernon had really gotten sick, or an infection, or his house had burned down after being struck by lightning, and their possessions were lost, well... the three of them hadn't given him much thought since Harry's escape, and return to the bookshop. So Harry wouldn't know.

Fighting off the smile he felt trying to grow on his face, Harry opened the door to the creaking sound of unoiled hinges.

"What do you want?" the Evil Wizard, Lord Voldemort (the 7th), asked in his hissing, rasping voice, his famous serpent partner climbing up his body to watch over his shoulder at their customer.

...

The end! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!