Snake-Catching Operation

"It shouldn't be here." Jonas looked around the room, stepped forward, and shut the window.

"What?" Bella asked in confusion. Looking at the bloody scene before her, she squeezed her eyes shut and crossed herself. Turning her head aside, she saw Nelson with his Wand drawn, his face tense, and Tom with reddened eyes and an expression of grief and rage.

"This should be a reptile." Jonas dropped to one knee, braced himself against the floor, and bent down to examine it closely. He gestured in the air to indicate the width of the wet trail. "It should be a snake..."

"It should be a python." He stood up, frowning as he lifted the Birdcage. "I saw pythons when I was reporting in Brazil. They use their enormous bodies to strangle their prey before swallowing it. Their prey ends up just like this Birdcage."

"But none of the pythons I saw were this..." He stared at the marks on Tom's bedroom floor, pondering for a long while before choosing his words carefully. "...thick."

"Thick?" Nelson raised his brows in alarm, a bead of cold sweat slipping down from the corner of his brow. Could it be a Basilisk?

"It was at least this thick." Jonas formed a circle with his hands, larger than a basketball, then spread his arms wide. "And this long..." He seemed to realize that he could not possibly demonstrate the python's length with his hands, so he spread them helplessly and gave up.

"Why would there be a python in London?" Tom ground out through clenched teeth. His grip on his Wand was so tight that his knuckles had turned white, and his eyes were slightly red. "Why did I leave them my address? Why did I accept Christmas presents? Why did I open the window? Why did I..." His hand holding the Wand dropped, the strength draining from his white knuckles. He lowered his head, hiding his expression.

"I'll buy you another one as a Christmas present." Nelson kept his Wand raised as he wrapped his other arm around Tom's shoulders and held him tightly. "A Collared Owlet, right? I'll buy you an identical one."

"It won't be the original one." Tom's body trembled slightly. Though he had always acted as if he did not care about the Collared Owlet Dumbledore had given him, even calling it nothing but "Collared Owlet," the bad-tempered little owl had always been by his side. Even if it pecked his hand while delivering letters, it had always helped him send every letter and package on time. He patted Nelson's hand on his shoulder, then walked silently into the room and took the deformed Birdcage from Jonas.

"Tom." Jonas looked at him with deep concern.

"I'm fine." Tom walked toward the stand where the Birdcage had once hung, now toppled over on the floor. As he passed a beautifully wrapped gift, he kicked it flying. A crisp crash of shattering glass rang out; whatever had been inside the box seemed to have broken completely.

Tom struggled to hang the Birdcage back onto its stand. He tried to bend it back into shape, but failed again.

Nelson felt something at his feet. Looking down, he found Question Mark, who had vanished after waking up, sitting by his feet and licking its paws. It rubbed its head and tail against his trouser leg.

"Let him be alone for a while." Jonas pulled Tom's bedroom door mostly shut, put an arm around Nelson and Bella, and led them away. Nelson bent down and picked up Question Mark. This time, it neither struggled nor cried out. It lay quietly in Nelson's arms, licked his palm, curled up, and did not move.

The three of them walked downstairs in silence. Behind them came a grief-stricken, shrill hiss that did not sound human.

"Nal." Nelson and Jonas sat on the sofa while Bella stood behind Jonas, holding his shoulders and staring anxiously upstairs. Jonas rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands beneath his chin, and spoke solemnly. "Pythons are rare in the United Kingdom."

"Especially one this large." Jonas looked at him. "If a python were roaming through a residential area, the city authorities would have caught it. Yet it managed to get into our home. We may be in the suburbs, but this is hardly the middle of nowhere."

"You mean?"

"I don't understand magic." Jonas tapped his temple. "But I think this definitely isn't an ordinary python. Do you understand, Nal?"

The living room fell into a long silence. The sound of a door opening and footsteps came from upstairs. Before long, Tom slowly descended the stairs, looking much the same as usual. Seeing the three downstairs look up at him with concern, Tom held both hands out in a calming gesture. "It's fine. It was only an owl."

At lunch, none of the four seemed to have much appetite. They ate hastily, then Nelson and Tom returned to their respective rooms.

After lunch, Nelson sat at his desk, staring blankly at a box with its ribbon removed. After what had happened to the owl, he was in no mood for anything.

"I've figured some things out." Tom pushed open the door. Seeing Nelson's vacant expression, he asked with concern, "Nal? What's wrong?" The boy who had just suffered the loss of his pet was actually comforting his friend instead.

"Huh?—" Nelson came back to himself and shook his head dazedly. Turning, he saw Tom standing beside him. "Tom... you're here? Feeling better? Tomorrow, we can go to Diagon Alley and buy..."

"No, Nal. I don't want an owl anymore." There was no trace of the grief, rage, terror, or any other emotion from before on Tom Riddle's face, as though his pet's accident had left no mark on his heart at all. He returned to what he had said earlier. "I've figured some things out."

"What?"

"Nal, life is fragile. Pets aren't suitable for me." Tom took a deep breath, as if making up his mind about something. "A tiger hunts goats, a cat catches mice, or... a snake eats a bird. Those are perfectly normal things."

"In a sense, yes."

"We cannot let weak things linger on just because of our own preferences." Tom rubbed one hand along the edge of Nelson's desk while drawing his Wand with the other. He held it between his eyes and slowly rotated his wrist. "Without magic, I would still be a pitiful orphan barely surviving in London, unable to afford meat more than a few times. The strong Plunder and possess everything the weak have. That is only natural."

"That's not how it is, Tom..." Nelson realized that his friend seemed to have gone from grief and rage to another extreme. He wanted to comfort or persuade him, but did not know what to say.

"I know, Nal." Tom walked to Nelson's window and looked out at the gloomy sky. London's usual weather cast a pale, indistinct mix of light and shadow across his sunward face. He continued in an unbelievably calm tone, "That stupid reptile could have eaten any bird, yet it chose mine."

"I will catch it." Tom sat on Nelson's bed, gripping his Wand and glaring out the window through clenched teeth. "It dared to mess with me."

Nelson sighed. Rather than trying to dissuade him, he simply asked, "Are you sure? That snake might be a magical creature... it might even be a Basilisk. I've read some books on magical creatures. Snakes themselves possess mysterious and powerful magic, not to mention unusual species of snake. Honestly, I don't think first-year students are capable of catching such a powerful magical creature. We can't even find it."

"I have ways to track it." Tom turned to look at Nelson. A strange red light flickered in his formerly clear black eyes. "Have you forgotten? I'm a Parselmouth."

"Tom, what is this?" Nelson frowned tightly. He understood now. The red light he had seen flickering in Tom's eyes before had not been some illusion caused by emotion or lighting, but a real change, perhaps brought about by some unknown magic.

"Snakes are nocturnal creatures. Though I don't know why that beast crawled up to my window this morning." Tom did not answer the question. "I'm leaving tonight. Are you coming?"

"..." Nelson met Tom's gaze with concern. He wanted to stop his friend from taking such a risk like a rational adult, but found that he had no right to say such cold words. Besides, a mindless beast was nothing to fear. Harry Potter had soloed a Troll in his first year! In the end, he nodded. "I need to make some preparations."

"I knew you would, Nal." The red light in Tom's eyes grew brighter. It flickered, then quickly went out. He took a long wooden box from his pocket. A complex crest was printed on it, with an ornate capital A set in the center. It looked quite old. "These are the Wands I had Avery send us. They don't have that disgusting Trace on them."

"These were left behind by Avery's ancestors. Their owners died many years ago." Tom smugly placed it on the corner of the desk and slowly pushed it toward Nelson. "Fir wood, Dragon heartstring, ten and one-third inches, too rigid and easily broken. Avery said it's well suited for Transfiguration. According to Ollivander's theory, it is ownerless now, so we won't find it overly sluggish to use... Of course, I wouldn't find any Wand sluggish. They are merely servants of Wizards."

"You won't have to write those boring reports for the idiots at the Ministry of Magic anymore." He carefully tucked his Yew Wand back into his sleeve, then casually pulled another Wand covered in scratches from his pocket. "Blackthorn, Dragon heartstring, ten inches, short, thick, and sturdy. They say the previous users of these two Wands were a pair of powerful brothers, and even the Dragons whose heartstrings were taken had been brothers raised together."

"An ownerless Wand." Nelson opened the box.

"Yes, but I still prefer my own Wand, even if it is only a humble tool... Pets are the same." Tom gazed at the Blackthorn branch in his hand with fascination. "What a beautiful story. Wands made from brother Dragons for brother Wizards... then passed into the hands of another pair of brothers."

"It really is." Nal used the Fir Wand to turn the ribbon he had just removed from the box into a ruler. "Not bad. A little worse than my Wand, but it doesn't matter."

"Nal." Tom put down his Wand, his eyes burning. "Tonight, let us test the results of our magical studies on that beast."