Harry Potter: I became Snape

Mr. Ogden did not head toward the grand manor but instead turned right along a narrow path, slipping through a gap in the hedge.

Beyond the gap lay a rough, uneven dirt track, flanked by increasingly tall and dense shrubbery. A few steps further, nestled among tangled roots and thickets, the old Gaunt house came into view. Nailed to the front door was a dead snake, stark against the weathered wood.

The house's walls were cloaked in moss, and the roof was missing many tiles, exposing patches of oak beams beneath. Dense nettles grew wild around the structure, rising almost to the height of the windows. Those windows were small and cramped, caked with years of grime.

One window was ajar, a thin wisp of steam or smoke curling out, as if someone inside were cooking.

A rustling sound broke the silence, and a ragged man leapt down from a nearby tree, landing directly in front of Ogden.

"You're not welcome," the man said, brandishing a wand in one hand and clutching a bloodied knife in the other. His small, dark eyes glared in opposite directions.

Snape's mouth fell open in shock, for he could understand the man's words—shouldn't he have been speaking in Parseltongue?

"Er—sorry, I don't understand you," Ogden replied uneasily.

"He says he doesn't welcome Mr. Ogden," Dumbledore explained, noticing Snape's startled expression. "He's speaking Parseltongue."

Snape closed his eyes and shook his head but said nothing, letting Dumbledore quietly translate the Gaunt family's words.

Though he wasn't ready to share this with Dumbledore, this revelation wasn't entirely bad for Snape. It meant that, if necessary, he could enter Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets alone. Of course, he'd need to prepare thoroughly first—perhaps by acquiring a goblin-forged weapon.

A loud bang rang out as Ogden was knocked to the ground by Morfin. Ogden clutched his nose with his left hand, sickly yellow liquid seeping between his fingers.

"Morfin!" a shout came.

An older man rushed out of the wooden house, his appearance fierce and monkey-like.

"From the Ministry, eh? You should've notified us before coming here, shouldn't you? This is private property…" Marvolo's imperious voice reached their ears.

"Get inside and shut up," Marvolo snapped at Morfin, his tone brooking no argument.

Morfin staggered unsteadily toward the wooden house. Once inside, he slammed the door so hard that the dead snake swung on its nail.

"I'm here to address a serious violation of wizarding law that occurred this morning!" Ogden said sharply. "I need to speak with your son. Perhaps we should go inside to discuss this?"

"Fine, fine, fine!" Marvolo roared. "Stay in that blasted house, then. That ought to satisfy you!"

"Let's go take a look," Snape said, pointing to the doorway as Ogden stepped over the nearly worn-down threshold of the old house.

Inside, Morfin sat by a smoky fireplace in a grimy armchair, his thick fingers toying with a writhing little snake. In Parseltongue, he softly sang:

Hiss, hiss, little snake,

Slither quickly across the floor,

Be good to Morfin,

Or I'll nail you to the door.

In a corner by the open window stood a young woman in a tattered gray dress, slowly handling pots and pans on a shelf.

Merope's hair was straight and dull, her face pale and plain, her expression heavy with endless melancholy. Like Morfin, her eyes stared in opposite directions.

When Ogden mentioned that Morfin had used magic to curse a Muggle, causing him to break out in painful hives, Merope's hand trembled, and with a clatter, she knocked a jar to the floor.

"Pick it up!" Marvolo bellowed. "What, are you going to crawl around like a filthy Muggle? Is your wand just for show?"

Merope managed to retrieve the jar, but, perhaps rattled by Marvolo's scolding, she dropped it again.

Trembling, she raised her wand to cast a spell, only to knock the jar apart into two pieces.

"You useless fool!" Marvolo's harsh rebuke echoed again.

"She's pitiful," Snape sighed. "Living in a family like this. Don't you think, Professor, that a stubborn, wretched family like this would be better off gone—for everyone's sake?"

Ogden repaired Merope's jar and turned to Marvolo. "As I was saying, the reason for my visit—"

"So what? Morfin taught a Muggle a lesson—so what?" Marvolo interrupted, his voice thick with anger.

"Morfin broke wizarding law," Ogden said sternly.

"Morfin broke wizarding law," Gaunt mimicked, dragging out the words with arrogant mockery.

"He's to be summoned to the Ministry for a hearing—" Ogden raised his voice.

"Do you know who you're talking to, you filthy little Mudblood?" Marvolo roared, jabbing a yellowed, grimy finger into Ogden's chest.

"I believe I'm speaking to Mr. Gaunt," Ogden replied, his expression wary but standing his ground.

"That's right!" Marvolo shouted.

He thrust his hand toward Ogden, showing off a black gemstone ring on his middle finger, waving it in front of Ogden's face.

"See this? It's been in our family for centuries. Our lineage is ancient, pure-blood through and through… The gem bears the Peverell crest!"

Snape and Dumbledore stepped closer to examine the ring on Marvolo's hand. The black gem was etched with a strange symbol: a vertical line encircled by a circle, enclosed within a triangle.

Marvolo suddenly grabbed a gold chain around Merope's neck, yanking her toward Ogden. At the end of the chain hung a heavy gold locket. In the house-elf Hokey's memory, they had seen this locket before, clutched tightly in Tom's pale-knuckled grip.

"See this?" Marvolo shouted. "Slytherin's! Salazar Slytherin's! We're his last descendants—what do you have to say about that, eh?"

Merope's neck was constricted by the chain, and she coughed violently, struggling to breathe.

"I see, I see! Mr. Gaunt, your daughter!" Ogden said, his face panicked as he spoke quickly.

————

Supporting me on Patreon to gain early access to advanced chapters and enjoy expedited updates. Your support is greatly appreciated.

pat-reon .com/Dragonhair

(Just remove the hyphen - and space, to access Patreon normally.)