The Basilisk His Nature

Thanks to: My beta, dievalkyrie99, who fearlessly stepped into an unfamiliar fandom to wield her red pen with perspicacity and good humour.
I gratefully acknowledge the inspirational art of bloopfish and sadademort and many influential discussions with reignofthenight and anarianothren.

As always, I am indebted to Mr. Pipenerd, my Kit Marlowe.

Author's Notes: This fic takes place prior to 'Black Widow'.


Harry sighed in contentment as pale arms clad in flowing sleeves encircled his waist from behind. He leaned back and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of the rich fabric of his lover’s robes against his naked back. “A gift?” he echoed in pleasant surprise. “But I haven’t anything for you.” He tried to reconcile the days and weeks since they’d become lovers, but since he’d started sleeping with the enemy, time had become as meaningless as the War they were supposed to be fighting.

“Would you like to see what it is?” The tone was bantering, but an underlying note of tension stirred Harry from his languor. As strange as it seemed, the other wizard sounded almost...apprehensive.

“Yes, of course,” Harry answered, though he was more curious about his lover’s uncharacteristic trepidation than about the unexpected present. “I didn’t want you to think that I’m greedy,” he added.

“I know you better than that.” The Dark wizard disentangled himself. An indistinct shape, he swept across the darkened room and returned a few moments later to press a wooden box into his hands. “You’ll be able to see what’s inside if you open it by the window.”

“What is it?” Harry couldn’t help wondering aloud. He traced the smooth, heavily lacquered surface with his fingers.

“Just open it.”

The box wasn’t very big, and Harry tried to imagine what might be inside. Unable to suppress a smile at the thought of the Dark Lord going shopping for a gift, Harry lifted the lid.

Ruby eyes twinkled from a coil of brilliant gold. “It’s beautiful.” Harry’s voice was awed.

“Do you think so?”

Harry touched the serpent with a finger, and then made a startled sound as the golden object moved.

“Don’t be concerned,” he heard Voldemort say as the snake began to slither around his wrist. “It’s merely a toy.”

“How do you know?” Harry asked a bit shakily. He could feel the cool touch of metal as the serpent coiled around his forearm, movements as fluid as a real reptile, gemstone eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

“I bought it a number of years ago from a dealer in antiquities who told me that it was Babylonian. It is, in fact, Sumerian. It’s a pretty thing, but it obeys a limited range of commands. As you see, it has a certain autonomy in its movements.”

“Does it do anything else?” Harry stared at it in fascination.

“It can be used as a restraint.”

Harry realized what he meant and looked at him uneasily. “You mean like handcuffs?”

“Yes. It’s more of a decorative object of course. It may have originally been used for some sort of ceremonial purpose – or perhaps it was a wealthy wizard’s bedroom novelty.”

Harry tried to imagine what Sumerian wizards might have looked like, and wondered whether any of them had been gay, and what sorts of stories this little snake might be able to tell if it could talk. And then a chill overtook him as he understood why Voldemort had given it to him tonight.

The Dark wizard moved closer, gauging his reaction. “I hope it’s not too sudden. I admit that I was a bit hesitant, all things considered...but I have a cherished fantasy, and I hoped that, when you’re ready, you would act it out with me.”

“Tonight?” Harry managed. Any interest he’d had in sex had been extinguished as thoroughly as if a Dementor had materialized in the room. Bondage was one thing he’d never fantasized about, particularly considering the delicate balance of his relationship with the most powerful living Dark wizard.

“Although if you think it’s too soon...” A smile tugged at the corner of the Dark Lord’s mouth, but Harry found the situation anything but humorous.

In point of fact, Harry thought it was far too soon for such a thing and he felt a flash of resentment that Voldemort had dared to suggest it. And yet…their psychic bond had strengthened in the weeks that they’d been together, and he was unable to detect anything actually sinister in the Dark wizard’s intentions. Harry swallowed his indignation, and tried to calmly reconsider his response. He had to admit that Voldemort had never refused any of his sexual requests, and this one, while not entirely to his taste, was fairly conventional. He took a deep breath and met his lover’s dark eyes across the open lid of the box. “If that’s what you want, it’s all right with me.”

Voldemort took the box from his hands. “I didn’t think that your courageous Gryffindor nature would allow you to refuse.” He sounded annoyingly smug as he hissed a command and the golden serpent became immobile.

Harry felt as if he had just willingly relinquished his freedom, and said grudgingly, “I suppose I was just looking for a bit of comfort tonight.”

“And I suppose that I am seeking reassurance,” the man who was both his lover and his enemy replied cryptically. “Perhaps we’ll both be pleasantly surprised.”

Harry was not particularly reassured by the kisses that he lightly applied to each wrist before pressing them together and hissing the charm which activated the ancient device. As he watched the serpent coil around his wrists, Harry wondered what sort of reassurance the Dark Lord could possibly want. Did Voldemort want to assert his power over him, to see him subjugated as if he had defeated him in the battle that everyone else imagined was looming? Was he merely indulging a penchant for bondage, or did he yearn to see him humbled? Harry looked uncertainly into the familiar dark eyes, searching for an answer, but their expression was as veiled as his thoughts.

“Are you going to tell me the command to deactivate it?” Harry asked, more sharply than he’d intended. Realizing too late how he’d sounded, he added quickly, “So that I don’t spoil things by opening it accidentally, I mean.”

“Trust me, Harry,” the other wizard replied with a humourless laugh. “It’s something even lovers rarely ever say.”

Harry was tempted to retort, “Then it’s not ‘I love you’?” but decided against it. Voldemort had made his views on love quite clear, and Harry had been extremely careful not to blurt anything in the throes of passion that his acerbic partner would only mock later. He found it bitterly ironic to have a lover who denied the very existence of love.

Voldemort’s eyes swept over him greedily and Harry squirmed under the scrutiny. He imagined that, in golden shackles, barefoot and wearing only loose-fitting black pants, he must look very much like the last person to have worn the bejewelled serpent in a situation that must have been very similar. “I just know I’m not going to be able to get into this,” he muttered.

“You think not?” A sharp pull on the serpentine coils encircling his wrists, and Harry stumbled forward. Piercing eyes met his, and he involuntarily flinched as a slender finger traced his scar. But instead of the anticipated pain, Harry felt his skin began to tingle pleasantly all over his body, as if he were briskly drying himself with a towel. His lover moved closer to brush his lips lightly. He tried to relax into the kiss, but he felt emotionally detached. He couldn’t forget about the damned serpent.

The tingling sensation continued to the point that it was almost uncomfortable. His lips parted automatically and as the Dark wizard lapped at Harry’s tongue he hissed another charm. A cool sensation surged over him then, like a fresh breeze on a hot day, and it seemed that his senses were suddenly augmented. The heat of the kiss made him shiver; the pain from the hands that roughly seized his shoulders was intoxicating.

Harry’s misgivings had just started to dissolve when a new distraction began: his arms. Linked by the gold coils, they were a barrier if he allowed them to fall in front, but when he tried putting them to the side, his shoulders were pulled forward. In exasperation, he lifted them up and put them around the other man’s neck. Pulling the Dark wizard’s smooth head close, he kissed him hungrily.

The charms continue to sweep over him, like competing ocean currents, as Voldemort’s hands moved possessively over his shoulders and chest. Unable to reciprocate, he had the leisure to observe for the first time. He noted the progression of soft lips to firm tongue, to the gentle grazing of teeth on skin, and the transition from tender caresses to unyielding compulsion. He was totally aware of his body’s responses, from initial surprise and pleasure to arousal and demand.

Long fingers gently stroked his hair, and when he opened his eyes, Harry was struck anew by his lover’s unearthly appearance. All the other wizards he had known looked like people; eccentric people, true, but close enough to the kind he had known all his life to be unremarkable. Voldemort was otherworldly. He was tall, but his imposing presence was due more to the aura of power that surrounded him than to his height. His skin was pale and translucent, with highlights of blue, mauve and purple lurking beneath the surface like the colours of a priceless opal. His eyes were compelling, with a fire in the depths that sometimes flashed like lightening.

Harry bit his lip in anticipation as he felt the warmth of his lover’s hands moving lower down his body and slide over his arse. His cock was yearning for attention, and he pushed forward his hips, but the Dark wizard retreated. Harry groaned in frustration and heard his lover chuckle as he relented, pushing down the soft fabric of his pants bit by bit, one side at a time. Teasing fingers traced circles across his belly, and he shuddered at the tantalizing touch of fingertips that barely brushed the crisp curls of hair that nestled his straining erection. Smirking at Harry’s impatience, he pushed him against the wall.

“It appears that you’ve managed to get into it after all,” the Dark Lord observed sardonically as he removed Harry’s arms from around his neck. He lifted them over Harry’s head and used a Sticking spell to hold them to the wall. Straining against the hard, metallic bonds, Harry was in the grip of an exquisite torment, yearning for release.

His lover’s expression was predatory as he pressed Harry’s thighs apart with his knee. Heart racing, breathless, Harry wondered how much longer he could bear this tension. Concentrating his kisses on the younger man’s throat and shoulders, the Dark wizard traced the bones of Harry’s hips and continued down his legs. Harry whimpered as the fingers of one hand glided along his inner thighs and gently fondled his balls. The other hand traveled down his back until it reached the base of his spine, and lingered to apply pressure to the nerve centres on either side.

Squirming with pleasure under his lover’s caresses, his senses completely ignited. Harry arched against him, causing the other man’s robes to part, and he gasped at the delirious sensation of warm, smooth skin against his belly. He felt Voldemort shudder in response and pressed closer, gratified to feel the pressure of his lover’s arousal against his hip. The Dark Lord pulled away, just long enough to enjoy Harry’s look of desperate yearning, and then finally wrapped his fingers around the younger man’s cock.

Harry moaned as his fingers glided over the foreskin and a thumb swept over the sensitive tip. It wasn’t enough, and he thrust up into his lover’s velvet grip, unable to suppress a groan. Voldemort’s mouth came down on his, biting at his lips before slipping his tongue inside his mouth. Harry was astonished at the contrast of the warm, wet kisses with the cold, serpentine metal around his wrists. His lover breathed another spell, and Harry’s cock pushed into a slippery tightness that stole away his breath.

Deliciously hard strokes perfectly matched the tempo Harry would have set himself, and he wished his own Legilmency was good enough to see so clearly into the other wizard’s mind. Voldemort was ravishing him with his mouth and hands, entangling his tongue with searing kisses and driving him to the edge with slow, strong strokes that matched the rhythm of his ragged breaths. He was engulfed in a deluge of sensation: the charms that twisted over his skin, the cold metal that chafed his wrists, the sweat that stung his eyes, the tension building at the base of his cock.

And then the Dark wizard’s magic began to constrict around him, his muscles tightened, and his body arched in coils of white-hot pleasure. His knees buckled as he came, and he was only dimly aware that Voldemort had uttered “Finite” and that an arm had snaked out to support him before he could slide down the wall.

Harry rested against him for a few moments as his breathing and pulse subsided. Lifting his head, he looked into his lover’s face, expecting to see the familiar arrogant smile and smoldering gaze that said more sincerely than words, “You’re mine!”. The anticipated expression was in place, but there was something in his eyes that gave Harry pause. It was almost as if he’d been expecting something and was disappointed that the hoped-for response had not occurred. He tentatively reached out through the bond that linked them, but apparently whatever had disturbed him was too subtle to sense in that manner. Harry instinctively responded by leaning close and tenderly kissing him.

When he drew away, the moment had passed, and the fire in the Dark wizard’s eyes flashed with a crimson glow. His hands were on Harry’s shoulders, urging him down, though he needed no encouragement. Voldemort’s robes were loose, and Harry parted the folds, trailing kisses down his skin as he slowly dropped to his knees. He pushed aside more of the silk brocade and paused in appreciation. His lover’s genitals were pale but flushed, as well-proportioned and perfectly hairless as the rest of his body.

His breath ghosted over his lover’s erect cock as he ran linked hands over his tight balls and inner thighs, eliciting a disjointed phrase hissed in Parsel. A few salty drops were seeping from the slit and he licked the moisture away before pressing wet kisses over the exposed tip. From the tension in the balls in his cupped hand, it was obvious that this wasn’t going to take very long, and he smiled to himself as he slid his tongue over the withdrawn foreskin and down the shaft before pressing it though his tightly pursed lips. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and his lover reached back unsteadily to the wall for support.

Harry unabashedly savoured his power to evoke this kind of reaction from one of the most powerful living wizards. He appreciated how difficult it was for Voldemort to allow himself to be this vulnerable, and was suffused with wonder that this magnificent, unearthly being could be so open with him, could so completely tr –

Understanding flared like lightening.

Harry gagged, and hurriedly drew back, blinking tears from his eyes while trying to maintain the rhythm with his hands. So that was the point of Voldemort’s fantasy! Now he understood what he had seen when the other wizard’s mask had briefly dropped.

He looked up to see whether Voldemort had noticed the pause, but his eyes were half-closed in concentration and Harry smiled to himself. He could guess the words that would unlock the ancient device that bound his wrists, and yet… It was Harry’s nature to be a generous partner, and he knew that solving the puzzle of the Sumerian serpent was really secondary to gratifying his lover’s more immediate desires.

He was going to do his best to show his Dark and otherworldly lover just how much he cherished him. Nuzzling the tip of his cock with soft, moist lips, he slipped his mouth down over it, slowly taking it into his throat. He was getting hard again himself as he worked his mouth from the tip to the base, using his tongue to stroke the underside. Voldemort’s hands were on his shoulders, then his fingers were tangling in Harry’s damp, black hair as each touch drove him closer to the edge of release.

Harry moaned around him, enthralled by his power to destroy his lover’s self-control. The proximity of their two separate consciousnesses had thinned to the point that Harry could almost feel a hot mouth sucking at him greedily and shuddered at the sensation of hands tugging at his balls. His own excitement began to take over, and he increased the pace, using his hands as an extension of his mouth. Voldemort’s breathing grew louder, and Harry felt the spasm begin a full second before he heard him groan. He forced himself to relax as his lover thrust into his throat, but he was certain that his internally voiced shout of triumph must have been audible in the other wizard’s mind as he came spurting into his mouth.

Harry wiped his lips with the back of his hand and sat back on his heels, gasping for breath and waiting for his racing pulse to calm. A moment or so later Voldemort slid gracefully to the floor beside him.

“Was your fantasy what you thought it would be?” Harry asked.

Voldemort regarded him with curiosity. “It was very nice,” he replied after a moment.

Harry couldn’t suppress a smirk at the disappointment in his voice. “Nice? How could it have been any better?”

“Perhaps it was this,” the Dark wizard admitted, touching the golden serpent. “I missed you being able to touch me. I’ll remove it now”

“No,” Harry stopped him. “Let me.” He held up his hands and met the Dark Lord’s eyes. “I trust you,” he said. The coils relaxed and he pulled his wrists free. The serpent straightened for an instant, and then resumed the compact shape he had first glimpsed in the box earlier that evening. But as it settled back into a fixed spiral, he could have sworn that one ruby eye winked at him.

“I should have known that you would guess,” Voldemort said with a laugh as Harry crawled into his lap and wrapped his arms around him.

“How could you, of all people, not know?” Harry scoffed. “Aren’t my feelings strong enough for you to realize how much I trust you?”

“I knew that you ‘loved’ me the first time you kissed me,” the Dark Lord said patiently, settling his arms around the younger wizard’s waist. “But you know that I think very little of what most people call ‘love’; at best, it’s nothing more than enlightened self interest.”

Harry shook his head impatiently. “When I say ‘I love you’, it means that I think you’re beautiful. It means that I value your happiness. It means that I trust you with my life.” He leaned closer until their foreheads touched. “It means that I want to be with you.”

“There’s the small matter of a War keeping us apart,” Voldemort reminded him dryly.

“The War’s over as far as I’m concerned,” Harry declared. “I won’t lead them against you any more.”

“I’m not certain that post-orgasmic bliss is the best time to make so momentous a decision,” his lover replied, seemingly unmoved by his assertion.

Harry felt a twinge of doubt. “You trust me, don’t you? I mean – you didn’t ask – but I assumed that’s what you wanted.” He anxiously searched the Dark wizard’s face.

Voldemort finally spoke. “Yes, of course I trust you. And I want very much for us to be together. I will need to alter my plans, but I suspect this will help to quickly bring the conflict to a mutually acceptable resolution.”

“I know one thing that this won’t change,” Harry said, unable to suppress the smile that twitched at the corner of his mouth.

His partner hugged him close. ‘And what is that?” he asked indulgently.

“We’re not going to get any sleep tonight.”

Voldemort smiled at his irrefutable self confidence. “Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,” he said softly.

Without hesitation, Harry did.


_______________________________
The title is taken from Michael Drayton’s sonnet, “Three Sorts of Serpent Do Resemble Thee”

“Come kiss me, sweet and twenty” is from Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare, Act II, Scene III.

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Since this is my first foray into sexually explicit writing, your comments and reviews are especially important to me in improving my work.



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