July 30, afternoon, the garden
It’s late morning and Harry has only just gotten dressed and breakfasted. Celebrations with Sirius and Remus the previous night went on for a while, and he’s totally knackered. It doesn’t help that his sleep recently has been plagued with dreams, bad dreams. He only remembers bits and pieces, not enough to identify faces or details.
But he knows it’s Voldemort.
He can feel him like an icy mold that sweeps through his veins and leaves him shivering. What disturbs Harry the most is that he recently had a dream, or vision, of Voldemort, and it had distinct sexual overtones. He’s sure of that and has vague memories of naked skin. But he also has vague memories of seeing blood. Despite the sexual content, he was not aroused when he awoke, sweating and scared. As with other times, he vomited after his vision of his nemesis. Luckily, he barely made it to the bathroom, so there wasn’t a mess to clean up. But these dreams have left Harry shaken, which is why he is again sitting in the garden behind 12 Grimmauld Place drawing.
Harry once read in a muggle book on something called art therapy that if you’re feeling confused, just drawing without thinking about it or planning a shape will help you work through your thoughts and emotions. So since breakfast, he has sat out here with a pencil, letting images float out of his mind and onto the paper. What he has drawn is disturbing and confused, to say the least. In one drawing, a young woman, maybe 22 years old, is partially disrobed and sits on a man’s laps. The man has red eyes and is tracing something into the skin on her arm. In another picture, the same woman is chained to the ceiling and is bleeding. Voldemort is doing something to her that he wishes he had never even conceived of. He’s thought a lot about his sexual preferences lately and he can’t say that he’s terribly sure what he likes yet, but he knows that this is not arousing to him. The very idea of Voldemort having sex makes him a bit green.
Harry hears a noise and finds himself looking into the eyes of the garden snake from the previous day.
Hello, he says.
Hello, the snake replies. Back again? What are you doing here that is so important that you traipse about my home?
I live here, too, you know. Besides, I’m just sitting. I’m drawing, and I like being outside.
Hmmm. I do not like being in the sun. Too hot.
Harry notices that the snake’s scales are lightly colored and figures that it could mean that it’s more sensitive to the light. You could come inside with me if you want. It’s darker in there. You might like it.
The snake swivels its head to where Harry jerked his head. Alright, the snake says. How do I know you won’t eat me?
Harry blinks. Um, because I don’t eat what I can talk to.
He picks up the snake and puts it on his shoulder where it wraps around his neck. What’s your name?
I don’t have one. Do all humans have names?
Yes. I’m Harry. He looked at the snake. He was mostly silvery white with a tint of blue iridescence. How about anguineus?
Hmmmm. I like it. Does it mean anything?
Yes, it means snake in Latin. How about I sit out here and draw for a while longer and then we'll go inside?
The snake assents and curls up around his neck as Harry shifts so that the snake can be in the shade.
But he knows it’s Voldemort.
He can feel him like an icy mold that sweeps through his veins and leaves him shivering. What disturbs Harry the most is that he recently had a dream, or vision, of Voldemort, and it had distinct sexual overtones. He’s sure of that and has vague memories of naked skin. But he also has vague memories of seeing blood. Despite the sexual content, he was not aroused when he awoke, sweating and scared. As with other times, he vomited after his vision of his nemesis. Luckily, he barely made it to the bathroom, so there wasn’t a mess to clean up. But these dreams have left Harry shaken, which is why he is again sitting in the garden behind 12 Grimmauld Place drawing.
Harry once read in a muggle book on something called art therapy that if you’re feeling confused, just drawing without thinking about it or planning a shape will help you work through your thoughts and emotions. So since breakfast, he has sat out here with a pencil, letting images float out of his mind and onto the paper. What he has drawn is disturbing and confused, to say the least. In one drawing, a young woman, maybe 22 years old, is partially disrobed and sits on a man’s laps. The man has red eyes and is tracing something into the skin on her arm. In another picture, the same woman is chained to the ceiling and is bleeding. Voldemort is doing something to her that he wishes he had never even conceived of. He’s thought a lot about his sexual preferences lately and he can’t say that he’s terribly sure what he likes yet, but he knows that this is not arousing to him. The very idea of Voldemort having sex makes him a bit green.
Harry hears a noise and finds himself looking into the eyes of the garden snake from the previous day.
Hello, he says.
Hello, the snake replies. Back again? What are you doing here that is so important that you traipse about my home?
I live here, too, you know. Besides, I’m just sitting. I’m drawing, and I like being outside.
Hmmm. I do not like being in the sun. Too hot.
Harry notices that the snake’s scales are lightly colored and figures that it could mean that it’s more sensitive to the light. You could come inside with me if you want. It’s darker in there. You might like it.
The snake swivels its head to where Harry jerked his head. Alright, the snake says. How do I know you won’t eat me?
Harry blinks. Um, because I don’t eat what I can talk to.
He picks up the snake and puts it on his shoulder where it wraps around his neck. What’s your name?
I don’t have one. Do all humans have names?
Yes. I’m Harry. He looked at the snake. He was mostly silvery white with a tint of blue iridescence. How about anguineus?
Hmmmm. I like it. Does it mean anything?
Yes, it means snake in Latin. How about I sit out here and draw for a while longer and then we'll go inside?
The snake assents and curls up around his neck as Harry shifts so that the snake can be in the shade.