A Lie Told Under Veritaserum
*** Flashback ***
The boy let out a low groan as he came to once more, not moving at first even as he lethargically opened his eyes. He was still wearing his glasses and his gaze was lazily fixed on the hibiscus plant which had grown rampant and overtaken the workbench opposite to where he lay.
‘That’s it, Potter, up you get,’ Lucius Malfoy said, and he slowly guided the boy until he was in a semi-upright position. ‘Drink your tonic, yes, yes, this one first… now the blue one, the tincture… there’s a good boy.’
‘You have done well, Lucius,’ said the cold, high voice of Lord Voldemort, and had Harry Potter not been in such a state of delirium he might have sensed the faint prickling in his scar.
‘With all due respect, it is still early in the boy’s recovery, my Lord. He is hardly hale as a hex as one might say. We are only two stages into the second of three potion cycles, and I fear it will take another several hours until we might move into the third. Merlin knows how long it will take to revive him fully.’
‘How right you are, Lucius. Perhaps I am too eager to get my hands on the boy. I was disheartened that he had to leave the graveyard so soon,’ said the Dark Lord, and he paused, taking in the greenhouse for a moment before continuing, ‘When he is stable enough to be moved, I would have you bring him to a more secure location inside the Manor. You know the one.’
‘Indeed, my Lord, I had thought the very same—’
‘You will not mind if I make the arrangements myself.’
‘Of course not, my Lord—’
‘Heiaseth hallem—’
‘What was that, Potter?’
‘The boy asked for water,’ Lord Voldemort said, a hint of amusement in his voice. ‘Have your parseltongue skills deteriorated so much in my absence, Lucius?’
‘I have never been gifted with a talent for languages, my Lord, you know this—’
‘But you did nevertheless complete some studies,’ said the Dark Lord abruptly; his head tilted to the side in interest, his eyes firmly fixed on Lucius’s Gryffindor charge. ‘Tell me, has the boy said anything else in the ancient tongue?’
‘Several things, my Lord, but they were only murmurings, whisperings.’
‘Such as?’
‘Um, let me see… herraseth lethas, I believe… possibly even sheh’seth nefeli or-or something to that effect,’ Lucius said. ‘Pardon my pronunciation, my Lord.’
‘Well, the message is clear enough,’ said the Dark Lord. ‘And? Has anything whispered back to the boy?’
‘Not that I am aware—’
‘How curious….’ the Dark Lord said, letting his voice fade. And then he began to whisper in a parseltongue so light and sweet-sounding that it made the hair on Lucius’ arm stand on end.
Again, Potter murmured in parseltongue for some water. The Dark Lord raised a skeletal finger to his lips and Lucius understood that he should keep the boy quiet, which he managed to do by propping him up as he had done before and supplying him with the water he so craved. Meanwhile, Lord Voldemort continued his speech, his wand raised and ready to strike as he walked through the rows of the greenhouse.
‘Helliath hirresh ha’saad,’ Voldemort said after a few minutes or so, his voice growing louder with impatience. ‘You will reveal yourself—Helliath hirresh ha'saad, Nevelli!’
Whatever the Dark Lord had desired to happen had evidently not come to pass, for suddenly the Potter boy began to grimace and mutter, ‘Laith khassesh… neleth …’ but the sound was quickly rendered mute as the Dark Lord’s laugh filled the air.
‘Now, now, Potter, no more of that,’ said Lucius, and not a moment later he was tipping another dose of the blood replenishing potion into the boy’s mouth and the sedative which accompanied it to prevent the boy from moving about as the potion took effect. The boy’s speech slurred, and he was out cold once again.
‘Such a polite boy, young Harry is,’ Lord Voldemort said, stroking the wild hair on the boy’s head without the boy so much as flinching. ‘It is a shame he is so foolish.’
‘My Lord?’
‘It would appear that Potter has managed to bring a friend with him, a snake named Nefeli. She is here somewhere, but alas the shy creature would not reveal herself to me even though I called to her so nicely,’ the Dark Lord’s hand was still smoothing through the boy’s hair; anyone unfamiliar with the Dark Lord might have taken it for a gentle, soothing gesture, but Lucius knew it for the artful, snake-like charm that the Dark Lord had always possessed.
‘Potter has a snake for a familiar?’ Lucius asked. ‘An unusual choice for the boy, it has to be said.’
‘Come now, Lucius, I am sure this Nefeli is as innocent as he is. Dumbledore will have seen to that, I’m sure,’ the glow in the Dark Lord’s eyes caught in the light. ‘Nevertheless, I will alert Nagini to her presence.’
‘A wise plan, my Lord.’
*** End Flashback***
‘I won’t ask you again, boy,’ the dark wizard said.
Harry swallowed, was silent for a moment before saying, ‘I-I don’t have a snake.’
‘The boy lies,’ Voldemort spat furiously in Lucius Malfoy’s direction. ‘Where is your snake, Potter?’
Again, Harry was silent, and a stupid grin formed on his lips, for despite the Veritaserum running through his veins and for no apparent reason, he did not feel compelled to answer.
‘You cannot lie to me!’ Voldemort hissed.
‘I have no snake,’ Harry said firmly.
Voldemort closed his eyes across from him, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep, almost calming breath. When he opened his eyes, Harry could see that a line had been crossed. If there had been any hint of playful gloating in the conversation until that point, it was now gone. The dark wizard pulled his wand out from inside is robes, stroking it calculatingly as he stared at Harry in silence. Then, raising his wand, Voldemort slowly swished, flicked and pointed it directly at Harry.
‘Come here,’ the dark wizard commanded as he made the action, and Harry watched in horror as his chair moved back, pulling his knees out from underneath the table, and began to slide across the floor with on it. His body went rigid for the second time since entering the purple dining room, and Harry found himself unable to speak for the threat which seemed to permeate the air.
Harry came to a stop directly besides where Voldemort sat, his heart hammering in his chest.
The Dark Lord turned slightly in his chair to face him directly. ‘I do not appreciate being lied to, Harry,’ the man said quietly, and a chill ran down Harry’s spine. ‘Perhaps you believe that failing to do as I ask will help you in some way. If that is the case, I can assure you: you are mistaken. Do I make myself clear?’
Terrified, Harry felt himself nodding his head.
‘Good, good,’ said Voldemort cocking his head to the side playfully. ‘Now, I will give you one last chance. Tell me the truth.’
‘I a-am—’ Harry lied, but that only seemed to incense Voldemort even further. Suddenly he grabbed onto Harry’s chin, forcing him to stare back in his furious red eyes, and…
Yet again Harry felt his mind being torn into, and a series of snakes flashed before his eyes. Every snake he had ever seen—a documentary on the cobra and the Ancient Egyptians… a garden snake in the flower bed, aunt Petunia was shaking her broom at it—he was talking to the boa constrictor at the zoo… Malfoy was casting Serpensortia, it was going to attack Justin—the basilisk chasing after him in the Chamber of Secrets—his arm was on fire, the creature’s venom running through it—one after another, with no pause in between until his head felt as though it was going to burst and he collapsed boneless against the back of his seat.