
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6098148.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry/Voldemort, Harry_Potter/Voldemort
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Voldemort, Yaxley_(Harry_Potter), Bellatrix_Black
      Lestrange, Sirius_Black, Albus_Dumbledore, Severus_Snape, Ron_Weasley,
      Hermione_Granger, Death_Eater(s), Nagini_(Harry_Potter)
  Additional Tags:
      Serpentine_Voldemort, taking_on_the_attributes_of_an_animal, side_effects
      of_snake_milk, Harrymort_-_Freeform, snakelike_voldemort, forked_tongue,
      Underage_-_Freeform, Harry_is_fifteen, Hogwarts_Fifth_Year, so_many_tags
      that_i_cant_even, multi-chapter, maybe_a_bit_like_beastiality, i_dont
      know_though, more_tags_to_come_im_sure, I_Wrote_This_Instead_of_Sleeping,
      nagini_is_a_nosey_shit, nagini_is_life
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-02-24 Chapters: 2/? Words: 1697
****** To Fall As Snow ******
by Rayoislife
Summary
     Boredom can be a very odd thing indeed.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
 
 
Skin so silky and smooth, tanned by heritage and sunlight combined. 
 
“Harry.” 
 
The name is easy, always has been, just as breathing air. Just as necessary.
Chase. Always chase. Can't let him get away. Must stop him. 
 
“Harry.” 
 
A forked tongue slithering on beautifully golden skin, tasting and seeing as if
for the first time. Running itself over rippling muscles. Mayhaps he'd been
cruel to judge sports so harshly. Those delectable muscles were products of
years of practice. 
 
Slowly, the forked tongue trailed further down and tangled in pubic hair, not
bothered in the least, before finding it's prize and circled around it, tasting
the sweet salt of sweat and precum. 
 
“My lord?” 
 
Voldemort jolted rather violently in his high-backed chair and blinked down at
his Inner Circle as if just realizing where he was. He'd been prodding at the
mind-bond between himself and the-bloody-boy-who-won't-die while his Death
Eaters arrived, hoping to catch the boy off guard and find some of the Orders’
plans hidden in the teenager's brain. It had been rather dull searching through
nonsense in the boy’s brain. There was only so much prattling about whose arse
looked best at Quidditch practice and homework that was due the next morning
that had yet to be done--at which Voldemort scoffed in disgust, how could
someone who made such a terrible Wizarding student be such a, dare he say,
match to someone as himself?--before he got bored of the boy. Just as he'd been
pulling back from the boy’s mind, he'd caught a glimpse of himself, naked, and
straddling the boy. It had caught his interest enough that he had stayed,
watched the scene play out even, unfeeling, but curious. Curiouser now was that
Voldemort felt an unwanted heat in his crotch and he flicked his tongue, eyes
slanting further as he hissed in anger. The sooner he killed the thorn in his
side, the sooner he could get on with things.
 
“My lord?” This time the voice was closer and Voldemort realized that Bellatrix
had become concerned because he didn't give an answer. He gave her a rather
vicious hiss and waved her off. 
 
“Yaxley, report,” he demanded in his chilling voice, red eyes moving to his
informant even as his mind drifted, knowing already that the Death Eater had
nothing of interest to say. 
 
As the man began to speak, Nagini slithered up to her master’s side and began
to whisper to him as she often did. 
 
“You are ready to mate,” the annoyingly intelligent and all-knowing snake
intoned in her ever-curious voice. 
 
“I do not mate.” 
 
“You must.” 
 
“Go bother the rat.” Voldemort waved off his pet in annoyance and slouched back
in his chair. He should really transfigure it to a throne one day. Maybe once
he found a more suitable castle other than Malfoy Manor. He flicked his gaze
back to Yaxley and found the man staring back at him, Voldemort raised a
hairless brow in turn the man mumbled apologies and bowed down. 
 
“And where is Severus?” The snake-esque man asked as he stood from the chair,
flowing black robes drifting about him as though he were part Dementor. 
 
“At Hogwarts, my Lord,” Lucius came forward with that information. “The old bat
won't let him out of his sight.”
 
“Damn,” Voldemort hissed out, eyes flickering with his tongue. “I need him.” So
it was back to the board once more, to place another pawn underneath
Dumbledore’s nose so Snape could return to his side more frequently. He had
thought Severus was more sneaky than to trip the old bat’s suspicion, obviously
the man had slipped up. 
 
Voldemort dismissed his most loyal with a wave of his hand and conjured up a
list of disposable Death Eaters and dark wizards as well as a war map. 
 
***** Chapter Two *****
Chapter Summary
     Switch of POV in the second half and Dumbledear is a tad
     manipulative.
Chapter Notes
     Thank you so much for the kudos and the comments and subs. It's
     awesome to feel like people want to read this so this chapter goes
     out to you guys. Kudos to you guys for reading.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Chapter Two
 
Barty Crouch Jr. had been a very valuable man last year. He'd been unseen and
worked in the shadows, at least until he'd slipped. Now Crouch was dead and
Voldemort had lost a decent pawn. There was no way the Dark Lord would be able
to send in another of his soldiers under polyjuice potion. Dumbledore would be
smarter this year. Voldemort needed someone who wasn't known to be Dark.
Someone inconspicuous. However, there weren't many names on that list and the
ones there were too old or too young to carry out his plans without question or
mistake. Red eyes slanted at the board that had been set up. He hated to admit
it, but as for now, the old headmaster had him bested in numbers. He needed to
start recruiting like he'd done the first time. It would be much harder this
time around. 
 
Sitting back in the heated chair, Voldemort steepled hands together, staring
without seeing the board ahead of him. The Dark Lord let the heat soak into his
robes and sink into his skin, warming him to the core. He let out a relaxed
hiss and let his mind wander as he got comfortable. 
 
“...Don’t understand. Why can’t I spend winter break with the Weasley’s? I
haven't done anything, broken any rules, do they not want me?” 
 
Thoughts penetrated Voldemort’s mind that were not his own. His red eyes
squinted as he focused on the link. He could sense the intense anger the teen
was projecting and the underlying self-hate. The man rolled his eyes. Teenagers
were so overdramatic. However, he'd much felt the same at that age, he
supposed. He'd hated spending the holidays at Hogwarts, but had had no where
else to go. No place to call home. That struck a cord within him, another
similarity that he had with the bloody green eyed cretin he was destined to
kill. For a moment, he almost pitied the boy. 
 
There was a loud noise and Voldemort realized he was still in the boy’s mind,
watching through his eyes, and he noticed that the entire fifth year Gryffindor
dormitory was destroyed. Nightstands were upended, the boiler was cracked and
releasing hot steam, feathers raining from the ceiling were the only evidence
remaining of pillows, mattresses were shredded to thin slices, and bed frames
were broken in near perfect halves. In the moments when the magic was still
tangible, Voldemort truly felt the boy’s power for the first time, and he
wanted for it. He'd never wanted for anything more than in that moment, but he
must have triggered something because the boy gave a startled, heaving gasp,
and forced him out. 
 
“Damn teenagers,” the Dark Lord hissed out, leaning forward over his desk once
more. Moody, but no doubt powerful. There had to be a way to get his hands on
the boy… A trap perhaps? Potter was foolhardy and rushed in head first in all
cases. What kind of trap? Who could he use as bait? How would he set it?
Obviously, it had to be outside of the school, but Dumbledore seemed intent to
keep everyone locked in that he possibly could. The fool wouldn't allow another
mistake like last year, fool though he may be, Voldemort had to admit that he
was smart. There wouldn't be a second opportunity like the graveyard. Damn,
that whole fiasco had just gone to waste, it seemed. 
 
~~
 
Harry had been called up to Dumbledore’s office via owl that he'd received
during his nap in History of Magic. Of course, the note first reprimanded him
for falling asleep during his studies, which had made his face burn in shame,
before telling him he was to meet the Professor promptly after class. He'd
passed the note to Hermione and Ron to let them know where he'd be. It would
have to be something important if Dumbledore was contacting him by owl in the
middle of class. 
 
After class was dismissed, Harry found himself on the magic staircase going up
to the Headmaster’s office. He found said office to be empty, excluding the
paintings, Sorting Hat, and Fawkes, who trilled softly in greeting. Frowning
slightly, Harry looked around the room at the rather odd trinkets and watched
the ones that spun on their own, tilting his head, curious about the objects. 
 
“Ah, Harry, so glad you could make it, dear boy.” Dumbledore seemingly appeared
from nowhere and took a seat behind his desk, gesturing for Harry to do the
same, which he did. “Tea? Lemon drop?” The man offered, blue eyes not sparkling
as they usually did. Harry declined both. 
“Sir, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Harry asked, hoping to get
straight to the point. He hoped the man would answer him straight on. He was
almost a full grown wizard--just two years from it--he deserved the truth more
often than he received it. 
 
“Harry, my boy, the holidays are fast approaching and as much as I don't wish
to make you unhappy, I must inform you, you will not be spending the break with
the Weasley family,” the old man seemed worn out just from saying these words.
“You will instead spend it here, with myself and most of the staff.” 
 
Harry remained silent for several moments, letting the words sink in. He
breathed in deeply and something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone just as
quickly. “Is there a reason, sir? Have I done something?” 
 
“No, Harry. You've done nothing wrong,” Dumbledore answered, but didn't give
anything else. 
 
The fifteen year old wizard had managed to keep his temper until he reached
Gryffindor Tower, but just barely. When he reached the dormitory, he began
pacing, mind racing with questions that he had no answers to. Why did no one
ever tell him anything? He was the bloody savior of the Wizarding World. Didn't
that mean something? Finally, the anger exploded outwards and whipped around
the room like a tornado. When green eyes finally opened once more, Harry was
shocked at the damage he'd managed to do and then he felt the prod of something
in his mind, which shocked him further and he treated whatever it was as though
it were the Imperious Curse and forced it out, blocking to the best of his
ability. What had that been? 
Chapter End Notes
     By the way, both chapters have been written on my phone so if there
     are any mistakes (aside from tensing issues I usually always have
     those issues for some reason) feel free to let me know. Constructive
     criticism is appreciated. Thank you for reading.
End Notes
     So, I'm not even sure if anyone will like this, I plan to continue
     it. If anyone does want me to continue do you think I should have
     Voldemort's reproductive system more human or more snake-like?
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