Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Harry and Co. belong to J. K. Rowling, not me.
Prologue
A deserted country road. Or almost deserted, anyway.
A huge green snake with reddish eyes slithered in the shadows by the side of the road. Every few seconds the snake stopped and flared its nostrils, as if smelling out or tracking something. Then it continued on.
It finally stopped in a bunch of reeds, just a few feet away from a young man who had also been walking along the road. He looked to be about sixteen or seventeen years old. He was wearing long black robes and had a small backpack with him. The boy stopped and quietly turned around, listening.
The snake hissed with satisfaction. This was definitely the one its master wanted. Black, untidy hair; round glasses; and the obvious scar on his forehead. The young man seemed to be nervous, a bit twitchy. He had now pulled a long, black stick out from his robes. The snake recoiled. It didn’t like those sticks, those wands. They made its scales tingle unpleasantly. But the master had one as well; it seemed the snake would never be able to get away from them.
The snake’s eyes narrowed as it watched the boy on the road. It had never liked wands, no, especially after that thing its master had done to it, years and years ago. He had done the same thing to five other objects, which he had hidden. But not his snake. Ever since that day, it had felt curiously tied to its master, and would not, could not, leave him.
The snake’s master had sent it to spy on the master’s enemy: this young boy. The snake wondered vaguely how such a small human could be the master’s worst enemy, but since its small brain left it incapable of figuring out such complicated matters, hadn’t given its wondering another thought.
The boy had turned around again and continued walking, but he still kept the wand cautiously by his side. The big snake silently followed him.
Suddenly, about five yards down the road, a large snowy owl swooped down out of the sky and landed on the boy’s shoulder. The snake, hidden in the shadows, watched and listened as the boy began talking to the owl quietly.
“Had a good hunt, Hedwig?” he whispered. Hedwig dropped a dead mouse into his hand and nibbled at his finger. The boy smiled. “Good girl. I’ll try to go a bit faster for you, alright? I want to get off this road as soon as possible. This place is too… too quiet, it gives me the creeps. I wish I had my Apparition license… Death Eaters could be anywhere around here.” The boy shuddered and unconsciously stroked the bird’s feathers. “But I can’t wait to get to the Burrow, can you? To see the Weasleys, and Ron and Hermione again… and Ginny…”
A half-hour later, the snake had heard all it needed to know. It turned and slithered away, into the darkness. It hissed a snakey chuckle as it began the trip back. It must get home quickly. The master would want to hear this interesting new information on the Potter boy…
The master would be very pleased.