That made the snake uncoil from the armchair and approach Harry. Wearily he held still as she slithered around him, inspecting him from all sides, tasting the air so closely that he could feel the tip of her tongue on his cheek. For several minutes nobody said a word, letting the magical creature come to her own decision. Finally, she slid back to Voldemort, *He'sss too thin. He needs to sssleep. He tastesss like blood. You both need food. I will hunt.*