The Serpent's Thirst

The Serpent's Thirst

Chapter 7

The Pendant.

For some peculiar reason, when Harry entered dungeon room six for Potions, Snape seemed to be trapped in a more impetuous mood than usual. Professor Snape stared at him quietly, her eyes blazing brightly, but never saying a word to him as he sat at the very back, in the shadows with Ron, Hermione, and the other Gryffindors. It was very odd, Harry thought, and he felt quite uneasy when she continued looking at him as the rest of the class assembled in front of their empty cauldrons, ready to begin the day's work.

Since their second lesson with the Potions Mistress, Harry discovered that every time he walked into the room, the woman would have something snide to say to him. Always to the delight of Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins. She was no more different than her brother.

But today was unusual, simply because she didn't utter a word at Harry. This gained Harry even more stares from the Gryffindor front.

"Is she feeling fine today? This isn't her normal self -- maybe she's possessed!" Ron overreacted in a whisper, taking out his Potions textbook

"This is making me a bit agitated," Harry muttered back, making sure his mouth didn't move in the process hiding his face behind his cauldron.

With a wave of the wand, instructions for a babbling potion appeared neatly on the board. They read it and without a word, started on the brew. Every now and then, Snape would patrol the students to see how their potions were doing. Just like her brother used to do, though with less evil comments spawning from her mouth. Professor Snape would silently lean over the student, with her hands at her back, and surveyed them critically.

Occasionally, unlike her brother, she would actually make a student drink the potion to test the effects, but thankfully until that day no one had been poisoned because she knew which ones were done correctly and which weren't. However, she never told them, making them squirm fearfully every time she handed over the flask to the unlucky student to drink.

At the end of class Harry, Hermione and Ron and Neville were the last to leave the Dungeons for dinner because of an accident which Neville caused. The potion spilt all over the floor and they helped clean it up. Harry bottled up his flask and took it to Snape with a heavy heart. He didn't dare look at her; just being in her presence was enough to give him the effects a Dementor would have.

He was about to walk out behind Hermione when he heard the teacher speak.

"Potter."

Harry's heart jolted and he swivelled around, hearing Ron murmur something out of his mouth, "I knew something was coming."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said in melancholy, shifting his books under his arm as he miserably walked to the Professor's desk.

Snape eyed him maliciously and turned her back on him, thinking it was a great opportunity to straighten some out of place bottles filled with unnamed objects and animals.

Harry hunched his shoulders, feeling a little ominous to why she actually called him. Thoughts ran madly through his head. His stomach growled furiously and to his embarrassment, the teacher heard. Professor Snape span around with surprised eyes, as if Harry had done something rude.

"Tell that godfather of yours, that the next time he sends me a hexed item with the elves -- and I know it was him and not somebody else, he may find that after he eating a meal, he'll be missing a particular male organ," she said in a tiny vicious whisper that made Harry lean in closer, just so he was able to hear.

Harry straightened up slowly, his feelings completely torn between fear and amusement. He wondered vaguely what on earth Sirius had done. "And you couldn't tell this to him yourself, Mistress?" Harry replied, in a tone which suggested innocent curiosity. He stepped back, nonetheless, feeling uneasy.

Professor Snape eyed him with narrowed eyes, her top lip curling, in a gesture identical to her brother's. "I feel that, that beast will listen to you more attentively, than if it were to come from my own tongue. Now leave my sight, Potter," she spat, staring at Harry from head to foot like a despised thing she wished would be removed.

Harry hastily made his way to the Great Hall and sat down next to Ron at their table. "Bloody hell! She makes my Aunt Petunia look like an angel," Harry said, diving into his plate of food which Hermione graciously filled. "Now leave my sight, Potter!" Harry repeated in imitation of the professor's voice, seeing her slip into a chair far way from Sirius.

Hermione blinked, removing her fork from her mouth. "What did she want?" she asked and Harry told them. Hermione closed her eyes in irritation. "One of them is going to end up in the Hospital wing these days," she replied above Ron's laughter. "This is getting a bit dangerous!"

"I'll, uh, tell him the message tonight," Harry said stabbing his food with his fork savagely. "I'm starving and I don't want to think about them anymore."

"Er, Harry ..." Hermione began timidly. Harry looked up, twitching his nose. "Um, speaking of the Dursleys and messages, Sirius had gotten a message from your Aunt." Hermione pulled a light blue envelope from her robe pocket and slowly handed it to Harry.

Harry nearly choked on a piece of chicken, and Ron had to thump his back several times before he felt all right and the urge to cough vanished. "What?" he said in great surprise seeing the envelope held tight in Hermione's outstretched hand.

Harry shook his head, Ron staring at the letter like it was a howler and Harry hesitated before grasping it with his numb fingers; partly due to the cold and the shock. What on earth did the Dursleys want to do with him? He was out of their lives forever and they were happy about it and so was He. They never wanted to see or hear from him again. Harry was living with Sirius in happiness, he had the best bedroom he has ever had, the best house, the happy house elf Epona, and just ... loving care.

Why contact him?

With his hunger pangs suddenly ceasing, he looked around the table to the laughing Gryffindors drinking and eating. He stared back down at the letter with a sigh. It was crisp and scented with lavender and he noted that one corner was bulging out a little, like something had been put in. The writing was neat and perfect, just like Aunt Petunia's: she wouldn't have it any other way. And just for precautionary measures, his aunt had even included an air mail stamp.

To Harry James Potter

His school.

Well, Harry thought, they still hadn't relaxed about their hatred of Magic and for his kind. They still couldn't pronounce the name Hogwarts. The little prank Sirius and Remus caused back in the summer seemed to made them even more determined not to go near or say anything that would involve Magic.

He opened the letter, barely aware that Ron and Hermione were also interested in what the letter had to say from his despised Muggle relatives.

To Harry,

When you were unceremoniously left on our doorstep, fifteen years ago, a letter was left with you. Upon opening it, not only information was given about your parents deaths and why, but also the protection I was meant to give you. You already know that now; however, there was something else that was in that letter that was never given to you.

Included in this letter is a pendant which had belonged to your mother.

Petunia Dursley.

Harry blinked and perused the letter before he felt an unnerving feeling enter his chest, circling his heart and finally weighted down on his stomach. He breathed heavily and the letter shook, he was eager yet scared to look into the envelope.

"What is it Harry, what did they say? If it was something mean, I'll send Fred and George over and they can fix then up," Ron spat, his nostrils flaring. "They've got an even better range of pranking items now."

Harry shook his head in silence, and moved the envelope over to Hermione who sat immersed in the whole situation. "Look inside." He couldn't do it himself.

Hermione picked up the envelope and pulled up the flap, peeping inside for a moment before her hand delicately intruded into its depths and slowly pulled out a fragile looking flat, round pendant. The surface glinted in the candlelight revealing a Celtic design etched on it, as she held it in her fingers.

"It - it belonged to my mother," Harry explained with a sigh, his plate of food forgotten.

Hermione smiled, placing the pendant on her palm to look at it more carefully. "Well, it is very beautiful," she cooed, feeling the design.

She handed it over to Harry and as soon as he felt the textured silver touch his flesh, his breath caught in his chest. He now had something which had belonged to his mother. He had an invisibility cloak which was owned by his father and now the pendant. They were things he would always treasure and when he had children, would pass them on. Emotions buzzed through him, sadness and joy intermingling at having seen the pendant. He showed it to Ron, and then at last closed his fingers around it, promising never to let it go.

"Are you OK, mate?" Ron asked. "You look kind of - I don't know - what's the word - emotional."

Harry snorted and nodded. He was a bit nervous, blinking, hoping that the tear that wanted to escape, would not leave his eye.

When dinner had ended and all plates and goblets were cleaned of their leftovers, the trio left, retreating to Sirius' office where he was busy marking third year essays. Ron and Harry busied themselves with watching a small creature called a Pogrebin with a body and head covered in grey silky hair, as it ate raw meat within its tank. Lupin had suggested Sirius teach the class the animal and they were finding the creature very interesting. The creature gulped its last bite and burped, blood staining its face and hands. Hermione sat next to Sirius telling him about the essay on the tailing Pogrebin that she had already finished. Needless to say, Sixth years had another two weeks for it to be handed in. Sirius looked up in shock -

"You wrote how much?" he said with his quill hovering above the ink bottle.

"A fifty foot scroll," Hermione beamed.

Sirius refrained from speaking as he inked his quill and began scribbling some notes on a paper. "Hermione, where do you get this information from, is what baffles me. Fifty foot scroll? Daunting to my standards, nevertheless brilliant!" He shook his head smiling.

"You wouldn't believe it, but Professor Vector had an encounter with one when he was travelling in Russia and he gave me a detailed description of what happened and what he did," she explained.

Ron turned to Sirius, and looked at the calendar on his desk, ignoring Hermione's conversation because it was starting to make him ill. "Ten days 'till Christmas holidays," he sighed, "can't come any sooner."

"Are we staying at Hogwarts, Sirius, or are we going home?" Harry questioned, standing up and moved himself away from the Pogrebin who began staring at Harry hungrily.

"Home. I've invited the Weasleys' and the Grangers' over too for Christmas lunch, and to stay over," he grinned.

Hermione smiled and clapped her hands. "It's lovely. We could all be together. Mum and dad have sent word that they'll be coming."

"Oh, ah ... is Percy going to make it, Ron?"

Ron froze, a calendar page held up in his fingers to look at the dates. "Um, I think so. I mean Percy has apologised and everything during the summer holidays." His voice trailed over to the window, observing the Quidditch grounds. Like Harry and Hermione, he wanted to forget everything about that summer.

"Good, that's good. Epona likes a full house."

Harry licked his lips longingly. "The food she makes is amazing. The best treacle pudding ever,"

Hermione lost her excited look and eyes Sirius with questions. "Sirius ... what ever happened to Kreacher?" Ron and Harry looked up. "I didn't see him at your new house, so I was just wondering."

"Kreacher died -- Natually!" he added. "I found him in his cot hugging a bloody photo of Bellatrix with a last, eternal smile on his face," he growled. Even after going to the Malfoy's and telling Harry that he was being tortured by Voldemort in the Department of Mysterious, it was essential that Kreacher was not given clothes because of the crucial information he possessed about the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius was glad he died ... no more trouble from him.

Harry sat happily down on a secluded armchair facing the fire and relaxed while hearing his friends and godfather talk. The warmth of the flickering flames felt heavenly on his cold form. He heard the talk die down and Hermione whisper something. A pause followed and then--

"So you opened the letter, Harry?"

Harry turned around in his chair and stared at Sirius who was half way finished through the essays. "Yeah, nothing bad, but Aunt Petunia gave me something that belonged to my mum."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Really, was it a silver pendant?" he said, clasping his hands on his desk.

"Yeah. Did she wear it all the time?" Harry questioned wanting to know more about it. He stood up and retrieved the folded envelope, taking the pendant out. Sirius stared at it, motionless for a minute while he sat in silence, his eyes trailing over it.

"She wore it for a time, when she worked at the Ministry, but she later gave it to Dumbledore after she joined the Order." He looked up to Harry's face. "Well, um ... I suggest you keep it safe... "

***

Harry dreamt about the pendant that night.

He saw the ghostly, silver object fall through the air, surrounded by people he recognised. There was his mother and father waving jubilantly. Then Snape, the greasy-nosed, deceased professor scowled by James's side.

There was also a light somewhere, but Harry couldn't see where it was coming from. However, it shone brightly on the pendant, the light blinding his eyes. Silently it hit the ground, but the dark floor wasn't solid. The pendant hit something which sounded like water and it dropped to the bottom.

A darkened ripple vibrating around him.

He turned around and the scene drastically changed. Harry was standing in front of a house and he smiled, seeing Hermione by his side, holding the same little toddler she once held in another dream. Harry was smiling joyously, watching the green eyed baby giggle from over her shoulder. Walking into the house, Hermione looked around sighing at the beauty of the hallway and the lit rooms. It was so warm and cosy. Perfect for a young family.

Hermione paced down the hall past the staircase and stopped. Harry followed her and he halted by her shoulder, staring at the cupboard under the stairs.

"How about here?" Hermione grinned happily.

"Yeah, it should be perfect for her," he nodded, replying before comprehending what he was saying.

Hermione opened the door and plomped the baby onto a little rusted cot which lay within the dark interior of the cupboard. The room was unpleasant and nightmarish, littered with broken toys and stale food and giant spiders scurried about with clicking pincers; threatening to eat the child.

Harry's heart fell and he staggered back against the wall. The house growing darker by the second. What the? He lucidly thought for a moment.

Hermione locked the door and looked up beaming. "There! She won't bother us anymore."

Harry walked back as Hermione tried to step closer to him, wanting to kiss him. "No! What are you doing Hermione ... GET HER OUT OF THERE!" he yelled. He pushed her aside, and struggled to open the cupboard. "You can't. YOU CAN'T!" Harry yelled, tears leaking out of his eyes, his own horrible experiences coming back to him.

"It's, for her own good Harry," Hermione said, blinking.

Screams suddenly met his ears, but they weren't that of the baby's, but of a grown man's. And it was steadily getting louder in his ears. Harry looked feverishly around as the darkness grew. Then, Hermione and the house disappeared, and he turned, feeling for anything to grab hold to.

"I will never tell you the secret," A man with a distinct Irish accent yelled.

"Oh you will," Voldemort hissed, his glowing red eyes slowly becoming visible in front of Harry's own.

Harry staggered back, falling in the dark. Harry shook his head and willed his mind to stop the vision, he knew it was real, but he was glad he wasn't within Voldemort himself seeing it through his own eyes.

"You will, or your wife and your newborn child will die."

"No, no ... leave them alone." The man pleaded.

"We know you are the

Freiceadan Le Fios," Voldemort said, his sharp, grossly positioned teeth bared as he said the words. "Tell us now where it is and I will reward you, or I will make you suffer terribly."

"I am not the

Freiceadan Le Fios."

"DON'T LIE!" Lucius spat somewhere within the room. Harry recognised the voice. The voices were all circling him, and he panted in terror.

Voldemort interrupted him. "I sense a magical barrier on you, you are secret keeper?" There was a pause where Harry thought Voldemort would speak, but the man didn't. "You have information about this place that is hidden, and I want to know."

"I will die before I tell you," the Irish man spat.

Harry searched desperately for the person the voice belonged to, however, he couldn't see him. It was only his worst enemy that he could see ahead of him -- approaching him -- his white snake-like face standing out fiercely against the dark. Harry wished he couldn't see him. He felt his scar begin to sear. He stood upright, although the pain made him fall to his knees and he heard Voldemort speak again.

"Very well ... Malfoy, Talden ... you may begin."

"Please, please make it stop," Harry whispered, cringing, his eyes squeezed shut. He wanted it to desperately end before he knew the torture would begin.

And it worked!

"Harry ..."

Harry opened his eyes, grateful he could not see Voldemort anymore. He was really awake and Sirius was standing over him with his fingers coiled tightly around Harry's wrists; it was starting to hurt him. Harry frantically tried to rid himself of the grip, another pair of hands pulled him down. His scar began to painfully burn again and he gritted his teeth. The man he heard was being cursed, he knew it. Harry shut his mind away from Voldemort and the pain began to disperse.

"Harry - calm - down," Sirius said as he stopped Harry from hitting the bed posts.

Panting, he just wanted to lay on his side in a tight ball. He just felt so depressed from the dream that he wanted to cry. He already had tears drying on his face, but he couldn't let it all out with people all around him. At last Sirius gently let go, and Harry opened his stinging eyes again to see Ron, Neville, Seamus, Dean and Professor McGonagall looking distraught.

"I'll call Madam Pomfrey -- give him a dreamless sleep potion," Professor McGonagall said, standing pale, in her tartan night robes.

"Talden ... Malfoy ... Voldemort," Harry choked while Sirius pulled the blankets over his shoulders. Ron whimpered by his side.

"What ... what happened?" Sirius asked his voice soothing and comforting. "Was someone attacked again?"

"-He, he wan- wanted information from a person," Harry burst out, voice shaking as he shivered uncontrollably. "He was Irish - could tell from his accent. He wouldn't say it to Voldemort." Harry couldn't remember the whole vision anymore and he was glad. He was relieved when Madam Pomfrey gave him the potion.

***

It was midnight when Potions Mistress Snape closed the door to her office, while a tired looking Hufflepuff boy rubbed his eyes and left her sight, very crestfallen. She locked the door with her wand and turned around only to met with a ghastly surprise which make her heart leap painfully.

"BLACK ... YOU MORON!" she bellowed, her voice echoing through the dark dungeons. A couple of flames wavered dangerously in their torches and she dropped her wand on the cold stone floor with a clunk, and she placed on her hand on her chest in shock.

In front of her, Sirius stood. His arms crossed and head bowed slightly. "Oh, sorry I scared you," he sarcastically retorted.

Morganna picked up her wand and threatened to point it at her enemy, twirling it around nervously at her fingertips, however, she then reluctantly pocketed it. "You insensitive, selfish ... PIG!" she spat.

"A pig? Now here, woman, a Mongrel maybe, but never a pig," Sirius said, leaning his head back while the corners of his mouth curled into a sinister grin. He watched her silently, her eyes narrowing at his loathing sight.

"What do you want? Spit it out ... I have just finished supervising detention and I'm not in a chattering mood," she said impatiently, turning her head right and left to check if anyone was present in the corridor.

"I need to speak to you in private."

"What now, Black?"

"Would you rather speak to me, or an Auror?"

Snape gaped at the man, she formed her mouth into a word, although she never said it and relaxed. Retaining her wand she opening her office door once more. "In!" she blurted un-lady like ... much to Sirius's style.

Candles immediately burst into light as she walked into the room, her robes swishing about as she sat down hastily behind her desk. She sighed and waited for Sirius to begin.

"This Death Eater ... Talden--"

"Oh here we go again," she interrupted.

"Let me just finish, please." Sirius closed his eyes. "The Hogsmeade weekend back in October, did you meet up with Talden?"

Snape leaned forward and overlapped her hands on her desk, beside a blue potions bottle. "Yes, I did," she said calmly.

"Where did you go?"

"We walked and spoke and we stopped at the fashion parade."

"Right, and did you ask him what he was doing there?" Sirius continued.

"I did, he said he needed to stop illegal trading in one of the more sleazy pubs. Of course I wasn't sure if I should believe him in any case," she looked up, chortling, but stopped as she realised something. "He was working for the Dark Lord that day ... wasn't he?"

"Possibly, especially since the man who presented the fashion parade was kidnapped a week later," Sirius said. He watched the woman bow her head miserably and breathed in deeply at the news.

"Is that all you wanted to speak to me about?" she said a little coldly, a glassed look curtained her eyes, a tail tale sign she wanted to hide her emotions from Sirius. Snape huffed and rose when Sirius didn't answer, making her way towards the office door. Snape placed her hand on the doorknob and Sirius stood, thinking it was his cue to leave.

Sirius stood in front of her, bending his head down slightly while his robes touched hers. He hesitated before he would speak. After all, Harry had just had a horrible dream and vision. "Are you ok? Would you like to accompany me to the staff room for some fire whisky? I've had a dreadful night as well."

Morganna looked up weakly, very exhausted by the day and news, but nevertheless still exhibiting a fiery spirit. "You are sadly mistaken, Black. I wouldn't even go out with you if I had a choice between you and blast-ended shrewt," she turned her head to her side and crossed her arms.

Sirius smirked, a little disappointed at the rejection, but nonetheless still smiling. "Well, good to see you're still a cold hearted hag."

"-- Such a shameless son of a bitch," she tisked shaking her head.

"That is very true, my dear," he winked.

Morganna scoffed loudly, a little disgusted. "Argh, you - you. Get out of my office." she pushed the door open, making it smack against the wall with a boom and pointed her finger out the door.

"OUT!" The Potions Mistress yelled.

Sirius shook his head and left her sight.

The woman was still a complete stranger to him, than again that is how most relationships start. Morganna had never attended Hogwarts for schooling, she in fact went to Drumstrang - a school which allowed students to dabble in the Dark Arts. Sirius kind of thought so, even before she had answered Professor Sinistra's question about her education. Morganna was Severus's half sister. Their father had remarried when Serverus was a young child. This he never knew ... her family was still a complete mystery to him.

Sirius first met her, when Lily and James had just gone into hiding. That was when their hatred for each other was revealed. They stared at eachother for a minute until Snivellus showed up by her side and Sirius felt a sickening jolt of wrath boil in his veins. But deep down he knew she liked him from the very first moment they looked at one another outside a small dingy pub in Knockturn alley. He was twenty one and she had just turned eighteen. That wasn't the last time they met, there were other times before James and lily died, but they never spoke.