Harry Potter and the Bite of the Serpent
by Kryptonite

Rating: R
Ship: Harry & Hermione
Canon: Books 1 - 5
Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance
Status: Paused
Length: 2,048 words in 1 chapter
Published: 25 Jun 2004
Last updated: 21 Jan 2005

"Despite the feeling of safety, Harry had grown to trust no one and he thrusted the gun in the woman’s direction. “Who
are you?” he demanded seriously. The woman held up a shaking hand and stepped out of the shadows revealing her soft
brown eyes glowing beneath the shadows of her soaked hood, rain dripping down in front of her face. " First of a two
part series. Too much happening to write a full description. But the paragraph above gives an idea of the start of the
story.

From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/2404/

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1. Rice cakes & Rumbles

Special thanks go out to my beta reader Cheryl, you rule!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers
including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is
being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The only things I own are the plot, any characters,
spells etc that you do not recognize.

Author Notes: First chapter of a new series, hope you enjoy.

CHAPTER ONE Rice cakes & Rumbles

The warm clear night granted the full glistening moon access to the dark candlelit room. The stonewalls shining onto the
dark wooden floorboards. A tall man stepped into the room, his silhouette sharpening as he stepped further into the
light. He whipped a silky red nightgown around his body and pulled a scarlet nightcap onto his thick black hair.

The man perched himself on the edge of his four-poster bed pulled the covers over him and picked up a thick book from
his dark wood bedside table. He tugged the curtain around his bed and opened the book to where the piece of parchment
lay and began reading.

Five minutes or so passed and the man froze when he heard a slight pop echo in the room. He shifted his eyes from left
to right quickly and attempted to shrug off whatever the noise had been. He continued reading before he heard another
noise this time a light clumping. He snapped the book closed and placed it down on the covers beside him. He then opened
the curtain a crack and his eyes widened in horror before a blinding flash of green light blazed the room and then the
man saw no more.

*

“Potter!” Harry snapped bolt upright in his bed his Uncle’s bellows were enough to wake up the whole street. Harry had
only a matter of seconds ago been reliving the death of his Godfather, Sirius Black, the event that had plagued him
every night for the entire summer. “Potter!”

“Coming,” groaned Harry dragging himself out of bed. He opened up the curtains the sun was shining brightly causing him
to close them as quickly as he had opened them. It was definitely too early for that sort of light. He moved out of his
bedroom that felt more like a cage and walked across the landing and down the stairs into the kitchen. Where his Uncle
Vernon, thick moustache twitching, Aunt Petunia, nose high and Cousin Dudley, stomach rumbling were seated around the
kitchen table, three suitcases were stacked next to the table.

On the table before Uncle Vernon laid the remains of bacon and eggs, as did Petunia’s, while Dudley prodded his spoon at
a half eaten bowl of Fruit ‘n’ Fibre. Dudley was still being forced to diet and it had worked a little, although Dudley
still resembled a warthog from Harry’s point of view.

Uncle Vernon pushed off his chair and walked over to Harry waving a finger in his direction. “Now listen here boy, we
will only be gone for one week and I don’t want any of your lot here and if you attempt any sort of funny business Mrs
Figg will inform us immediately. She’ll be watching you from across the road.”

Harry rolled his eyes and nodded. “Okay,” he mumbled, knowing none of this would matter because Mrs Figg knew all about
the wizarding world anyway.

Vernon shot Harry a suspicious look before continuing. “Now, before we can begin our journey we need you to fetch some
rice cakes for Dudley. You can get them at the newsagents.” Harry sighed and nodded before making his way back up the
stairs to change. “And try speaking when I talk to you!” Vernon yelled from the kitchen.

Five minutes later Harry descended the stairs and nipped quickly out of the front door not wanting to fall into any more
conversations with the Dursleys than necessary. He wandered along the quiet hot streets of Little Whinging his thoughts
drifting to his deceased Godfather and his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They had sent him a few owls
over the summer but he hadn’t responded. He wanted to keep himself rather than offload his problems onto other people.

*

Harry returned to Privet Drive about forty minutes later. He stepped into the kitchen and dropped the rice cakes on the
dining table before beginning his exit.

“Hold it right there boy!” ordered Vernon. Harry unwillingly stopped in place and turned to face his Uncle who had one
hand on his waist and the other aiming at Harry, one sausage-like finger lingering in mid-air as he stepped ever closer
until Harry found himself wedged between his Uncle’s bulging belly and the dull wallpaper. “When we’re gone, I want none
of your lot here none of those Wazley’s or that convict you call a Godfather.”

Harry gritted his teeth and looked as calm as possible while nodding. “We want no more letters, especially talking ones,
and no more bloody owls! And if you even begin to threaten us with that insignificant convict again I’ll see he is sent
back to the slammer and given the treatment he bloody well deserves!”

Harry felt a sudden rage of anger burning on his insides and the next thing he knew his fist had connected with the tip
of his Uncle’s jaw and Uncle Vernon was lying on the ground at the feet of an open-mouthed Dudley and a shocked Petunia
who held a hand over her mouth. “Don’t you ever talk about Sirius like that again you bastard!” Harry yelled no longer
caring what anybody thought of him. “I hate you. I hate all of you it makes me sick to my stomach to even think that I
can be associated with venom like you!”

Harry turned on his heels sharply, strutted down the hallway and out of the front door slamming the door as he left. He
carried on storming away to the end of the drive and into the road when he heard a loud bang. He turned to see Hedwig’s
cage rolling towards him and his trunk in pursuit. “And don’t ever bloody well come back!” Vernon yelled clutching his
nose. However, Harry didn’t care anymore, he didn’t care if they had thrown him out, he didn’t care about the
‘contract,’ if Voldemort wanted a fight then he could have a fight. After last year’s events who is to say he was safe
at Privet Drive anyway? “Bullshit,” Harry said aloud grabbing Hedwig’s cage and moving quickly in a rage down Little
Whinging with Hedwig soaring above. Harry didn’t look back once at Privet Drive insisting to himself that he would never
see the damn place again.

Dusk fell, as a slight chill began to develop, the wind grew slightly stronger and the night began to close in. A few
spots of rain sounded on the ground of the derelict roads. Harry had walked for over six hours and had no idea where he
was as he approached yet another long and seemingly endless road. His legs felt as though they were going to collapse at
any second, as if they had only been running on adrenaline for the past hours. Harry moved further forward, however, as
the path seemed never ending he eyed a few street lamps in the distance. As he now had a target the thought of a drink
running solely through his mind, his legs continued working themselves.

Harry had considered flagging down The Knight Bus but at the minute he wasn’t in the mood to put up with neither Ernie
nor his continuous questions. Harry sat down on Hedwig’s cage for a moment as the beautiful owl landed softly on his
shoulder. She nibbled lovingly on his forefinger as he held it up for her to perch on and brought her down before his
eyes. “You go to The Burrow, okay? Ron will look after you for now. I’d attach a note but I haven’t got any parchment.”
Hedwig chirped and with one last nibble at his finger, took off into the sky. Harry watched her move smoothly through
the air and stood up again and continued onward, leaving the cage behind. It was only slowing him down.

The streetlamps became clearer and clearer as Harry took one step after another. Before the streetlamps became crystal
clear he found himself opposite a large thatched roof pub with two large, pointed, black street lamps on either side of
the entrance surrounded by a lush green trailing plant. However, it was silent. Harry found the atmosphere somewhat
eerie. He walked past the presumably empty pub and stopped quickly when he heard footsteps. He peered around the corner
of the pub onto a cobbled street where he could see a frail woman running down the street two men following her both
howling with laughter. Harry spotted a glass bottle in one of the man’s hands.

Harry shuddered slightly as he saw the woman trip and fall to the ground causing another round of laughs from the men.
Harry was now flinching with anger. He couldn’t see the woman because she was wearing a red coat with the hood pulled
over her head to block out the strengthening rain. One of the men grabbed the woman by her left arm and dragged her to
her feet and then pushed her against the wall of some rundown toilets. Harry moved a little further forward attempting
to get a closer look when he felt himself stumble over a loose brick on the ground. The two men seemed to have heard and
they began approaching where the sound had come from.

Harry’s natural instinct was to hide, but then he thought of how the Dursleys had treated him and sympathised with the
woman. He glanced once more in her direction. She was stood frozen in shock. “Run,” he mumbled to himself, “Why doesn’t
she run?” As the men got closer to Harry he scooped up the brick and crept quietly behind the pub. In a tight squeeze
opposite a fence he turned his head to the right the rain now dripping from his nose. He caught a glimpse of one man’s
shadow. He darted quickly out of the gap and cracked the brick over the man’s head sending him tumbling to the ground a
few specks of dark red blood sprinkled on the ground and Harry’s fingers.

Harry looked around frantically for the other man when he suddenly heard a clicking sound and felt a cold metal on the
back of his head. “Don’t move a muscle,” the man growled pointing his gun directly at the back of Harry’s head. Harry
gulped hard. Now what Potter? Playing hero again, what do you do when you get a life-ending weapon in the back of your
head? Panic? No, pray for some luck to be on your side. Harry heard footsteps again and the next thing he heard one
‘whack’ and the man was kneeling down clutching the back of his leg with the woman, still blocked by shadow, standing
behind him. Harry felt a strange sense of safety and warmth with her was nearby. Brushing his thoughts aside, Harry
whipped up the gun and swiped it over the man’s head sending him to the ground joining his friend.

Despite the feeling of safety, Harry had grown to trust no one and he thrusted the gun in the woman’s direction. “Who
are you?” he demanded seriously. The woman held up a shaking hand and stepped out of the shadows revealing her soft
brown eyes glowing beneath the shadows of her soaked hood rain dripping down in front of her face.

Harry dropped the gun to the ground the clunk deafening in the silent streets and took a step closer to the woman.
“Hermione?” he said softly peering into her eyes once more. He peeled the hood back over her head and noticed instantly
that her eyes were drenched with tears. Her face was soft and she moved forward into his arms and began sobbing
uncontrollably. Harry did the only thing he could in his current state of shock and disbelief he wrapped his arms around
her and held onto his friend tightly.
