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SIYE Time:14:50 on 29th March 2024
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Harry Potter and the Serpent's Coven
By Angelripper

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff, General, Romance
Warnings: Death, Sexual Situations, Violence
Rating: R
Reviews: 90
Summary: *** The author has been reminded via the e-mail address on file that this story is listed as incomplete and has not been updated in over 2 years ***

Harry Potter realises that returning to Hogwarts for his final year is the only way he will succeed in his quest to destroy Lord Voldemort. It is a year of darkness, horror and new discoveries. Ginny Weasley is not only the witch who possesses Harry's heart, but also the true source of his strength as a wizard. Together, they will find new powers within themselves and each other, and find that there are some things that even the darkest magic cannot break.
Hitcount: Story Total: 170272; Chapter Total: 4197





Author's Notes:
Okay, this will be my last chapter of the year. Sorry this one happens to end on a low note, but I will be starting on the next chapter at the beginning of January, and to all you Harry/Ginny fluff fanatics - do not lose hope. The flame-haired beauty will soon be making her presence known once again... Have yourselves a glorious Yuletide!




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“You really are a danger to yourself!” sniggered Ron, as Harry opened his eyes.

Looking around the hospital wing, Harry considered that it might be a wise decision to take up permanent residence there. It was, after all, about the safest place he could think of. Why ask Dark wizards to go to so much trouble when there was enough that could kill him inside the school itself?

Unusually, Ron was accompanied by both Neville and Professor Moody. Harry could only hope that the professor wasn’t here to schedule a practical exam in magical combat.

“Are you alright, mate?” asked Neville, taking care not to lean on any of Harry’s recovering limbs.

“I suppose so,” was the glum answer.

Only a day had passed since his eyes had closed, but the table at the end of his bed was already piled high with gifts and get well cards.

“I wish I was as widely adored as you sometimes,” said Ron, indicating the spoils, “They were crowding in at one point. Madame Pomfrey was going absolutely spare, especially with those Larkin twins; stood there swooning over you for ages! I really should have confiscated their Honeydukes stash and sent them packing.”

Harry was unable to raise a smile. He was still curious about the presence of Professor Moody, and wondering why life would never be simple again.

“Luna said she hopes you’re back on your feet again soon,” said Neville encouragingly, “She would’ve come along with us but she’s in detention with Professor Sprout.”

“What?” said Harry in mild surprise, “How did she manage that?”

“Something to do with not concentrating in lessons, I think,” Neville replied.

Harry yawned and shook his head in despair.

“Well, perhaps if you asked her out like we all know you want to, then her concentration would improve no end.”

Neville went very quiet, slightly red in the face, and shrank politely into the background. From the way Moody was studying him, Harry got the feeling that he had discussed the previous day’s events with the Headmistress. What was bound to follow was a conversation that Harry really didn’t feel like having.

“Don’t mean to interrupt visiting time, but do you two mind if I have a word with Potter alone?” Moody growled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back later,” said Ron with a nod, “I’d better go and find Hermione. She’s been complaining all week about the titles missing from the restricted section in the library. I swear, that girl is going to work herself to death one day!”

Once the two of them were alone, Moody regarded Harry with both curiosity and suspicion. Even without the maniacal gaze of his magical eye, the professor had a way of unnerving anybody if the mood took him.

“Harry,” he began firmly and coarsely, “I’ve heard all about what happened yesterday, and I need to know what’s going on. There’s no rule to say you can’t apply what you’ve learned in Defence to other areas of magic and you know perfectly well that there should be two Hogwarts professors recovering in here right now, not you. Did you hesitate? Is there something else preying on your mind?”

Harry turned his head away, a little ashamed that his teacher’s words were so true.

“I…I don’t know what happened,” he said blankly.

“You don’t know what happened?” Moody repeated incredulously, before leaning in closer towards him and speaking in a hushed, ominous tone, “The next time you speak those words to yourself, there may well be a Death Eater watching you die.”

There was no reply to this. Everything was just so overwhelming, and Harry was in no state to face the grim realities of his life. Slowly backing away, Mad-Eye Moody gave him a look of warning.

“I suggest you do a great deal of thinking while you have time to rest. Don’t give your mind a chance to slow down, Potter. I’ll be testing your limits myself in the near future, so be on your guard.”

With that, he walked away, his artificial leg clunking against the ground with every other step. Harry was wishing he had never woken up.

It was in the small hours of the following morning that Harry was awoken once more, this time with the distinct impression that someone or something was in the room with him. He strained hard to hear what he believed to be delicate footsteps making their way between the beds. Reaching quietly and cautiously into the pocket of the jacket that lay on his bedside table, he drew his wand and pointed it out in front of him, whilst attempting to put on his glasses with the other hand. Squinting to make out the shapes in the room by moonlight, he could see by the movement of shadow that the mystery visitor had now reached his bed. He leaned over the side to look underneath, and could clearly make out two bare feet, quite obviously not human. Having reached a comfortable conclusion, he relaxed a little as he sat up, but still jumped out of his skin as he was suddenly confronted by the large glassy eyes of a house elf that stared humbly at him from the foot of the bed.

“Dobby!” he exclaimed, clutching at his heart as he accidentally jinxed a pair of pillows that proceeded to fight to the death, “I really would appreciate it if you could visit without sneaking up on me!”

He corrected the two pillows that were already shedding feathers and returned his attention to the now overly apologetic creature who had trotted to his bedside.

“Dobby is very sorry, sir!” he whimpered, fiddling awkwardly with the dirty pillowcase he always wore, “Dobby had to come and see Harry Potter. He knows Harry Potter has been hurt.”

Harry sighed. He couldn’t help but be quite touched by the house elf’s unwavering loyalty.

“Well, Harry Potter will be just fine,” replied Harry, “as soon as he can get his strength back.”

He then paused and looked up at the clock.

“Are you still up cleaning at this time?” he asked.

“Oh no, sir, Dobby finished his duties some time ago. There was talk in the kitchen that Harry Potter had been taken here, so Dobby went to see Professor McGonagall to find out. He is on his way to see you, sir, when he sees your Weezy.”

“My Weezy? Oh, right…” said Harry, remembering the name by which Dobby had referred to Ron during his fourth year, “What was he doing wandering around at this time of night?”

The elf looked completely mystified at the question.

“Dobby isn’t quite understanding you, sir,” he replied, scratching gently behind his ear.

“Well, you know, Ron. What was he doing when you saw him?”

“Oh, I’m sorry sir,” came the reply, “Dobby sees his mistake. The young Miss Weezy. She is all alone and crying, sir.”

In that instant, Harry knew that all hope of sleep was torn to shreds. He had promised that he would trust her, but how was this right? He bit down on his bottom lip and dug his nails hard into the sheets just to stop himself from asking Dobby where he had seen her. It was only after a brief struggle with himself that he was able to meet the pitying gaze once again.

“Did she…see you?” he asked quietly.

“No, sir,” said Dobby, shaking his head, “House elves is used to staying out of sight. Dobby sees that she is tired, Harry Potter, so very tired. She is reading, so Dobby doesn’t disturb her.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel it was ironic that Dobby had no problem with rousing him in the dead of night, but was strangely courteous to a witch in distress.

“Should Dobby have followed her, sir?” he enquired, anxious to be of service.

“No,” Harry replied distantly, “I…I just wanted to know she was alright.”

“Dobby wanted to know if Harry Potter was alright,” came the simple response.

“He will be,” said Harry, doing his utmost to muster a smile, “One day, maybe. Listen, Dobby, no offence or anything, but could I just be alone for a while?”

Dobby had already vanished before he even looked up. Some day, Harry decided, he would have to do something special for the house elf, to show him the gratitude he deserved. Too many were the times when he ended a conversation by telling the poor creature to make himself scarce.

In the meantime, he was busy raking his fingers down his face. How long could he stand this? Ginny had been ‘missing’ for over a month now, and Harry had all but given up trying to understand why. There was nowhere he could seek consolation. His two best friends were lost causes, simply because they had each other. Out of sheer desperation, as well as the knowledge that he would almost certainly drive himself mad if the same thoughts continued to turn over in his mind, he decided that a self-induced sleeping charm would be the only option. He turned his wand on himself and uttered the charm he had last heard from Ginny lips on the Hogwarts Express.

“Soporum.”

Hoping that he would once again encounter Sirius on his nocturnal wanderings, his hand went limp and he collapsed into the pillow.

He had fallen into a sea of blackness, clawing blindly for any sign of light, or even a familiar shape. There was nothing for what seemed forever. Then suddenly, as if drilling a hole through the dark, a pair of red eyes appeared in front of him, providing just enough illumination for him to be able to make out his own hands. They glowed for a few seconds before the shadow of a thin bony hand crept over them, blacking them out.

Almost immediately, a shaft of light descended from above, allowing him to see that he was standing in a small dusty room. The floor was covered in broken glass, dirt and torn parchment. From one corner of the room came the sound of breathing, accompanied by the occasional sniff. Harry turned around quickly to see a figure sitting in the corner. As he took one step forward, the figure raised its head and the whole room was bathed in blinding light. Blinking rapidly, allowing his eyes to adjust, he looked again and saw Ginny staring back at him. Her hands were dirty and covered in cuts from the shards of glass. She held them out towards him and looked pleadingly at him as she silently wept tears of her own blood. The moment he reached out and brushed her fingertips, the room disappeared around them and she fell away from him, plummeting into a never ending shadow while he looked on helplessly.

He screwed up his eyes tightly, trying desperately to change his reality. Anything but this…anything. Feeling solid ground beneath his feet once more, he finally looked up. This time, he stood on grassy turf and saw tall hedges on either side of him. It was night time, but his way ahead was well lit and there appeared to be no immediate danger apparent. Treading cautiously along the path, he rounded a corner and found that the hedges were now marking out a junction. He could only conclude that he now found himself in a maze. This was no time to panic, he told himself. It wasn’t the first time he had been stuck in a maze, though he preferred not to dwell on the memory of the last time.

Hearing the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching from the left hand path, he felt about for his wand but found nothing inside his jacket. He flattened himself against the stretch of hedge and waited. Maybe whoever else was in the maze might just pass him by. Bracing himself as the sound drew near, he balled up his fists, just in case brawling would give him any kind of chance in a hostile confrontation. It was at that moment that he was startled by a very familiar voice.

“Harry Potter, sir!” cried Dobby as he rounded the corner, “At last I have found you!”

“Dobby? What are you doing here?”

“Dobby has come to show you the way, sir!” squeaked the house elf excitedly, “Harry Potter must hurry up and follow!”

Harry took a deep breath, allowed his pulse to slow down, then followed Dobby around the twists and turns of greenery, hoping only that he was in the presence of a reliable guide.

“This way!” he called, moving so quickly that Harry had to break into a jog to keep up.

It was difficult to ignore the fact that the corners were placed far more closely together now, something that was beginning to unnerve Harry. After catching up with the elf, he voiced his concerns.

“Look, are you sure we’re going the right way? It just seems like we’re just getting closer to the middle. I thought you knew the way out.”

“Way out?” asked Dobby, turning his head, “Why would Harry Potter want to leave? We’re nearly there!”

“Nearly where?” he replied, growing a little out of breath.

As they rounded the next corner, Dobby suddenly came to a halt, causing Harry to stumble forward a little.

“This is the place…” mumbled Dobby, before Disapparating with a click of his fingers.

Harry turned around sharply, but his companion had gone. He walked slowly and hesitantly into a wide circular clearing seemed to hold little claim on his interest. Just as he contemplated the task of finding his own way out, he noticed a silvery light appear in the middle of the clearing. The light flickered and slowly materialised into a sold object. A gravestone. Harry approached with apprehension, and as soon as he was close enough, read the carved inscription:


IN MEMORIUM

JAMES & LILY POTTER

CONDEMNED TO TORMENT - NOVEMBER 1981

THEIR SPAWN SHALL BE WIPED FROM THE EARTH


He stood motionless at the foot of the grave for a moment, then fell to his knees and cried out in despair. As Harry began to wish that the ground would just open up and swallow him whole, he became deaf to his own cries and heard only a cold-hearted voice hissing in Parseltongue inside his head.

“Oh, for a worthy adversary! You would do well to just kill yourself now…and take HER with you!”

It was at that moment that Harry awoke and sat up suddenly in bed with a strangled scream. His heartbeat raced like a galloping horse and his t-shirt was soaked through with sweat. As he sat shaking with anxiety, he turn his head to see a startled Hermione standing at his bedside.

“Harry, calm down,” she said gently, “It was just a bad dream, that’s all.”

Harry’s shoulders sank forward as he considered the possibility that his breaking point had been reached. Suddenly, almost falling off the bed in the process, he slumped sideways on to Hermione’s shoulder. She gave him as much of a reassuring hug as she could as he broke down.

“PLEASE MAKE IT ALL STOP!” he howled painfully, “I JUST CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE! I DON’T WANT ANY OF IT! I JUST WANT…I…just…want…her…”.
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