Harry Riddle Learns to Hiss

When Harry was five years old he asked Voldemort an interesting question. The small boy was in Voldemort's study, coloring on a piece of paper as Voldemort had his snakes slither around the room, hissing their secrets in Voldemort's ears before the man gave them further instructions. Harry frowned as he tried to keep a particularly thick snake still on Voldemort's desk so he can draw it.

"No! No! Stop moving!" Harry said angrily at the snake. He looked up at Voldemort, his eyes large and innocent. "Daddy, why can you talk to snakes, but I can't? I want the thick one to stay still so I can finish my drawing!" He lifted his paper up to show Voldemort a childish drawing of himself sitting at his desk.

Voldemort just raised an eyebrow and looked down at the thick green snake Harry was trying to draw. "What news do you have for me?" he hissed.

"The trials against your followers are over… your most loyal now serve in Azkaban cells…" the snake hissed back.

"Daddy!" Harry frowned. "I want to talk to snakes, why can't I talk to snakes!"

Voldemort gave Harry a sharp look. The boy whimpered and backed away slowly, saying in a smaller voice, "I'm sorry Daddy… I just want to tell the snake to stay still."

The Dark Lord found himself smirking at Harry's meekness towards him. He pushed his chair from his desk a little and gently patted his lap. Harry smiled and quickly ran over to his Daddy, climbing onto his lap and hugging his torso as Voldemort moved the chair back to its original position. Harry felt a comfortable wait as Voldemort stroked the top of his head and the thick snake slithered onto the boy.

"The ability to speak and understand snakes, Harry," the Dark Lord began, "is called Parseltongue. It is a gift, my son, passed down from one of the greatest wizards who have ever lived."

"Who is that, Daddy?" Harry asked.

"Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts," the Dark Lord said.

"That's the magic school that you went to right? And the one that I'm going to go once I turn eleven," Harry said.

"That is correct, my son, and you will be sorted into Slytherin just like your father," Voldemort said. Harry smiled and nodded eagerly. "Parseltongue is a trait passed from father to son to show our connection and heritage to Slytherin. It allows me to converse with snakes… unfortunately, however, it has a horrible reputation."

"But why? It's the legey—legacy of a great man right? And you speak it Daddy!" Harry said.

Voldemort gave Harry an amused smile. "Yes, it is a part of a great legacy… and I speak it, but due to the Ministry of Magic and others, parseltongue has received a reputation of being associated with what they considered 'evil wizards.'"

"But you're not an Evil Wizard, Daddy," Harry said. "You're the best person I know!" Voldemort's amused smile widened. "There's no way you can be a bad wizard."

"The rest of the world disagrees," Voldemort said. "On the night I've started taking care of you, Harry, is the same night that both of us disappeared from public view."

"I know."

"Then you know what the world knows me as," Voldemort said.

Harry nodded, looking up at his Daddy from his lap. "You're the Dark Lord," he said. "But the others won't say your name so they call you 'You-Know-Who' or "He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. …Though I still don't understand why," Harry frowned. "Daddy why are people afraid to say your name?"

"I don't know Harry, why don't you say it?" Voldemort chuckled darkly.

"Because you're my Daddy, so I call you 'Daddy,'" the five-year-old said, nodding with the certainty of a logic that only five-year-olds understand.

"But you know my other names, my son, so please… say them," Voldemort said.

"Okay… There's the Dark Lord… that's what your followers call you, right? And also there's Lord Vol…Vol-de-mort…Voldeemort?"

"Voldemort," the Dark Lord corrected.

Harry nodded, "Lord Voldemort!"

"Good," Voldemort said, looking satisfied. "As for why people are afraid to say my name… it is because, Harry, they fear your father so much that they are afraid of even muttering my name."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Harry frowned. "Because you're not scary."

"I'm not?"

"No Daddy, I love you very much, how can I be afraid of you?" Harry smiled.

Voldemort chuckled, a smirk falling on his face as he continued to pet Harry's hair. Harry hummed, content to be sitting on the Dark Lord's lap. He watched the snakes moved around the desk for a while before looking up at Voldemort. "Is there a way to teach me parseltongue?" he asked curiously.

Voldemort looked down at Harry, still petting Harry's hair like an owner would bet a dog or a cat. "Would you like to learn it, Harry?"

"Yes Daddy!" Harry grinned.

"Unfortunately… it is not possible to learn it," Voldemort said. "It is a trait, a language that one is born with, not learned," Voldemort said.

Harry frowned and looked up at Voldemort sadly. "But Daddy… I'm your son… there has to be a way for me to speak to snakes! I'll do anything!"

"Anything?" Voldemort asked. He looked down at Harry. "This isn't a small thing you are asking for Harry. It will make you closer to me… more akin to me than your birth parents."

"I…I…" Harry looked down at his own lap, his hands curled in little fists. Voldemort waited patiently, a skill he somehow learned while raising Harry, as the tiny child struggled with the question. Harry thought about it for five minutes. While Harry was waiting, Voldemort was busy doing some paperwork, busywork to keep his mind from loosing any edge. Harry looked up at Voldemort and gave a stiff nod. "I don't care… for my birth parents," he said slowly. "You're my Daddy. I love you and want to be as close to you as I can be. So please… let me speak to snakes."

"It will be painful Harry," Voldemort said.

"I don't care! I want to be close to you Daddy, I love you," again Harry turned around and hugged Voldemort, burying his head in Voldemort's chest. Voldemort dropped his paperwork and slowly wrapped his arms around Harry. "Then we will do the ritual tonight," he whispered. "You will become more precious to your Daddy than you already are, would you like that Harry?"

"Yes Daddy, I will," Harry nodded. He looked up at Voldemort. "What will I be?"

"A Horcrux. A container for a piece of my soul… with it you will be closer to me than anyone has been before," Voldemort said.

"I want to be one! Please make me one, Daddy," Harry whimpered. Voldemort gave him a sly, cold smirk as he brushed Harry's hair out of the way of his huge doe-like innocent eyes.

"Of course, my son… leave me to prepare for the ritual, I'll bring you to the basement later on," Voldemort said.

"Okay Daddy… thank you," Harry smiled. He hugged Voldemort one last time and actually leaned up to kiss Voldemort's cheek before sliding off, taking his drawing, and leaving the room humming happily.

Later that day Voldemort escorted Harry down to the basement, though to Harry it could easily been a dungeon. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all made of stone. It was one giant room with four columns the shape of snakes supporting the ceiling. It was windowless, cold, and a bit scary for the five-year-old. Harry has never been in the basement, he never wanted to, something about it just seemed… scary to him. But now he was determined to go in. After all, he has Daddy with him. He'll be okay as long as he's with Daddy.

In the middle of the floor there was a circle of candles as well as a few vials of potions, none of them Harry recognized. On the ground were runes that seemed strange to Harry and he looked up at Voldemort to ask about them.

"I am going to make you into a very special Horcrux Harry," Voldemort said. "The ritual will not only allow you to speak parseltongue, but it will allow me to sense when you are in danger, so I can protect you or spirit you away if someone tries to separate us. You will be my son… and so much more."

Harry smiled excitedly, almost radiating about the ritual. "What do I have to do?" he asked.

"Simply sit in the center of the circle first," Voldemort said. Harry stepped over the candles and sat down on the cold stone floor, shivering slightly. Voldemort moved towards the four vitals. "The first one," he pointed to a vial filled with a crimson liquid, "is my blood. Take that look of disgust off your face! My Horcruxes are living things, they all have my blood to sustain them. The blood will also allow the piece of my soul to stabilize more easily inside of you Harry."

"But it's blood!" Harry screamed, his face turned up in knots.

"Then just hold your nose," Voldemort sneered. Harry gave Voldemort a huge grimace but nodded. "Good… next is this one…" he pointed towards a potion that looked like mud to Harry, "is designed to, again, make it easier for your body to accept my soul. It will numb it to any pain which you might suffer, which leads us to the final potion, the Draught of Living Death." He pointed the last, clear-like liquid. "It will make you sleep through the process."

"So drink that one last?" Harry asked.

"Precisely," Voldemort said. "When I am done, I will have you returned to your rooms where you will sleep off the remainder of the potions and any after affects."

"Okay," Harry nodded. "And then I can talk to snakes?"

"Yes Harry, then you can talk to snakes," Voldemort said, an amused expression on his handsome face. He handed Harry the first vial, which was his blood. Harry grimaced greatly but closed his eyes and held his nose as he brought the vial to his lips, drinking the thick coppery liquid. His stomach gargled horribly afterwards and he quickly downed the mud-looking potion before lifting the Draught of Living Death to his lips. He looked at Voldemort and gave a simple, if disgusted, smile. "I love you Daddy," he said before taking the draught.

It worked almost instantly as the moment Harry laid fully on the ground he passed out, asleep. Voldemort couldn't help but take a moment and admire the sight of the child. Here was a five-year-old, too young to go to Hogwarts and decades younger than his youngest follower, but yet has already shown the same amount of loyalty, if not more so. The Dark Lord flicked his wand and the boy's shirt disappeared. He pressed his wand at the center of Harry's chest and began muttering, dragging the wand around Harry's body.


Harry woke up in his bed wearing a pair of pajamas. His head felt incredibly painful, as if it was banged against a metal plate numerous times. Groaning he sat up in his bed as he rubbed his head, only to feel something odd. There was something on his forehead. Frowning, Harry reached for his glasses before slipping out of his bed and onto wobbly legs. Almost falling twice, Harry made his way to the nearest mirror and looked at it.

He screamed.

On his forehead, which was once clear, was now a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. "Daddy! Daddy!" Harry screamed.

A second later the door slammed open, Voldemort walking in. "What is it?"

"My—my head!" Harry said, pointing to the scar.

"Yes, that," Voldemort said as he walked towards his son. "That scar is where my piece of soul entered into you."

"You mean… it worked?" Harry asked, looking up to the only man he had ever talked to.

"It has," Voldemort nodded. He waved his wand and a black snake burst from the tip of it, landing in front of Harry. "Speak," Voldemort said.

"What about?" the snake hissed. Harry gave a giant gasp as he looked from the snake to Voldemort. "I understood it! He said, 'what about!'"

"Yes he did," Voldemort chuckled. "You can speak to the snakes any other time Harry, but for now you need to sleep."

"But why? I've done nothing but sleep since I drank that potion," Harry said.

"Because it is four in the morning and I would like to be sleeping right now," Voldemort said a little harshly. It was then that Harry noticed that the Dark Lord was in his nightgown.

"Oh… I'm sorry," Harry said awkwardly.

"It is fine… go back to bed," Voldemort said. He tucked Harry back in, and locked the door behind him, leaving only Harry and the black snake in the room.

Harry looked over at the snake, his sight blurry because Voldemort took off his glasses, and asked, "So now what are you going to do?" unconsciously slipping in and out of Parseltongue.

The blurry blob that was the snake looked towards Harry and shook its head. "Don't know," it said. "Wander aimlessly?"

"How about we talk?" Harry asked, again slipping in and out of Parseltongue.

"No… you look boring to talk to. Goodbye." And Harry watched the blurry snake slither away, a little twinge of sadness coursing through him as he thought of how rude the snake was before eventually going back to sleep.

A/N: Look at this feedback! I love it! Hope it stays consistent lol

Ashze: Thanks! Hopefully I killed this chapter too!

Marybeth.hp7: Thank you, hopefully you like this chapter better than the last

AliVader24: Well don't worry, we'll see a lot of Voldemort raising Harry before he goes to Hogwarts (At least 7 chapters)

NightshadeB13: Thank you very much! So glad am I that you've enjoyed the first chapter!

Singularly: I try to push references whenever I can once per story… unless I want the story to be super serious (ex. The Dark Prince series)

Da-blk-saiyangirl: As if my other stories aren't interesting or exciting :P And I can tell you this goes places.

All the others because time is short: THANKS!