His aunt had shut him out of the house. Again.
With a sigh, nine-year-old Harry Potter headed to the garden, his small stomach rumbling as he went. He had been refused lunch because... well, because. His aunt had said something about unnatural behavior, but Harry wasn't really sure what she meant. All he knew was that sometimes, he didn't get to eat.
At least when he was outside he got to drink from the hose as much as he wanted. That was nice.
Aunt Petunia had gotten some new flowers that he was supposed to plant, so Harry got to work, kneeling in the grass, his hands soon covered in dirt. It was springtime, so it wasn't too hot out, and he was glad. It was almost relaxing, being away from his loathsome relatives. Or it would be, if he knew that his work wouldn't be scrutinized and he punished for the smallest mistake, real or imaginary.
Digging a hole for another flower, he startled slightly when he saw a grass snake, curled up in the shade. It was very small, and Harry thought it might be a baby.
It raised its head and hissed at him, and, reflexively, Harry apologized.
"Sorry," he said, before reminding himself that the snake couldn't understand him, anyway. Still, he was a lonely child, and if he could be friends with the spiders in his cupboard, he could be friends with a snake, as well. "You'd better move along," he continued. "If my family finds you here, they'll probably kill you."
For someone who was as proud of her garden as Aunt Petunia, she certainly hated anything that was natural in it. Harry didn't understand it, but then, he didn't understand a lot about his relatives.
Harry expected the snake to slither away, just to get away from a scary human, but then the last thing that he expected happened.
The snake spoke back.
"You speak?" it said, tilting its head curiously. "Human speaks?"
Harry stared. What? Was this some kind of special, magic snake?
"Yes," he said slowly. "But I've never spoken to a snake before. Can you speak to all humans?"
He wasn't sure if it was the snake who was unique, or if it was him. Could he speak to all snakes? He'd never had the opportunity to try before.
The snake hissed, though it was a different kind of sound than before.
"No. Humans dumb, loud, scary. Never met a human that spoke, but mother told stories."
Harry looked around. He didn't think his aunt or cousin was watching, and his uncle was at work. He leaned down a little bit, curious.
"What kind of stories?" he asked.
"Special humans that use a stick to do magic. Stay away from them. But even more special humans can speak. Snake Speakers. Good humans."
Humans that used a stick to do magic? Harry thought of his dreams, of the flying motorcycle, the green light, the man laughing and holding a stick - a wand.
Was that what the snake meant? Were there really people who could do magic?
"Oh," he said quietly. If he could speak to snakes, maybe... maybe he could do magic. "Do you have to be magic to speak to snakes?" he asked hesitantly.
The snake nodded.
"Yes. Special magic."
Well.
It certainly would explain a lot. Like the strange things that always seemed to happen around Harry. Maybe he was doing those things.
It would explain his relative's behavior, if they knew. They would hate it if he was magic. Unnatural.
Harry took a moment to let this knew knowledge absorb. It felt right, in a way that nothing ever had before. He was magic. That was it. There wasn't something wrong with him, not really, not like he thought.
"Thank you," he said to the snake. "I didn't know. But you really should leave, no. I'll get in trouble if my aunt finds me."
But the snake didn't move.
"Stay with speaker," it said.
"What?"
"Stay with speaker," it insisted, slithering forward towards Harry and climbing up his hand.
"No, you can't," Harry said weakly, torn between his desire for a real friend and the need to protect the snake from his family. "They'll hurt you if they find you."
"No. Speaker will protect. I will hide from other humans."
Harry bit his lip. He knew that he should turn the snake away, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
"What's your name?" he asked instead,
"Mother called me Quietly-Through-Grass," the snake said, proudly. "But that is only my hatchling name."
Harry figured that snakes didn't name things the way humans did.
"Oh. Are, um. Are you a girl or a boy?"
Quietly-Through-Grass hissed, and it took a minute for Harry to realize that it was laughing.
"Female," she said.
"Okay. I guess you can stay with me, for now. But you have to stay hidden from the other humans, okay? I don't want you to get hurt."
"Lots of things hurt. Worlds is dangerous. But I want to stay with you," Quietly-Through-Grass said.
Harry had never thought about it like that. He guessed life was dangerous for snake living around humans, especially humans like the Dursley's . And there were big birds or cats that could eat you. Maybe he could protect the little snake, even.
"I have to get back to the gardening before my aunt catches me," he said. "I'll get you before I go inside, though."
Harry went to work, but somehow, it was easier. He had a friend, now.
* * *
As Harry grew, so did Quietly-Through Grass, who Harry had named Persephone after something he had read in a book. In fact, as the years went on, she grew rather larger than a grass snake was supposed to be. Yet somehow, she was never found out by the Dursley's. Harry supposed that it was more magic, though how it worked, he still didn't understand. Perse didn't know much about it, save that magic people existed and used wands. Harry was grateful for that much knowledge. After all, without her, he would still have no idea that he was anything but a normal, non-magical human.
Learning more about magic proved to be a nearly impossible task. His family forbade the mere mention of it, so Harry couldn't ask them, even if he was allowed to asked questions. He didn't even know if they knew that magic was real. He wondered if his parents were magical, but he didn't dare bring up his mother or father to his aunt. And he avoided speaking to his uncle as much as possible.
Persphone spent much of her time hunting in the garden or in Harry's cupboard, where the spiders had nearly disappeared due to her hunting. Harry didn't mourn them much. After all, a friend that he could talk to was much better.
Harry would often speak to Persephone when he was locked in his cupboard. He would tell her things that he learned in school, and she was an attentive listener. He was even teaching her to recognize English, with the idea that it could be useful if she could understand other humans.
Now eleven, Harry's life was looking up. He was about to go to a new school, away from Dudley, his awful cousin. While he didn't expect to be popular, exactly, he did think he might make a new friend or two, without Dudley to drive them away. And he liked learning, and he wouldn't have to fake his grades any longer. The one time he had done better than Dudley on a test, his uncle had made him regret it, punishing him for cheating. Ever since then, Harry had made sure to give more wrong answers on his homework, so that the Dursley's wouldn't have yet another excuse to punish him. But without Dudley to complain, he doubted they would bother looking at his reports.
One morning, he woke up and went into the kitchen to make breakfast, only to smell something absolutely horrid. He scrunched his nose, glad that Persephone was out in the garden so she didn't have to deal with it. In the sink, in a metal tub, fabric soaked in grey water.
Harry hesitated for a moment, before looking up at his aunt.
"What's this?" It was, after all, in his way.
She made a pinched expression, as she did when he spoke to her unprompted.
"It's your new school uniform. I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things grey."
"Oh," said Harry, as he started frying eggs. He frowned. His plans for making friends wasn't going to go very well, if he was expected to wear that. Then again, did he really think his aunt was going to buy him new clothes. He nearly laughed at the thought.
His uncle and cousin arrived as soon as Harry finished with the bacon, and he brought the plates to the kitchen. Just about to serve himself what remained after his relatives filled their plates, they heard the sound of the mail coming through the slot.
"Get the post," Uncle Vernon grunted. Harry wasn't sure who he was talking to, but when Dudley raised his Smeltings stick to hit him, Harry decided it was best that he get the mail.
In the front hallway, Harry bent over to pick up the mail. One of the letters was thicker than the others, with odd feeling paper. Curiosity getting the better of him, Harry pulled out the strange letter, and bit back a gasp. It was addressed to him.
Mr H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
It even had his cupboard on it!
Harry glanced back at the kitchen, hesitating. Surely the Dursley's would never allow him to keep it, even if it wasn't a prank. They would take it from him, just like the took everything else.
As he passed his cupboard, Harry surreptitiously slipped the letter through the crack between the wall and the door. He would read it later, in private.
The rest of the day was torture. For the first time in his life, Harry couldn't wait to get into his cupboard. When he was sent out to mow the lawn, he even told Persephone about it, even though she didn't really understand the concept of mail yet.
Finally, dinner was over, and Harry was free to go to bed. He shut the door of the cupboard behind him, [...] coiled around his neck, and he pulled on the light.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Was this some kind of a prank? But no, there was no one that would fool him with something like this. The Dursley's certainly weren't creative enough, and they would never use the concept of magic against him like that.
Still, it could be fake.... but Harry didn't think so. After all, if he was magic, it stood to reason that there were other magical humans in the world. That there was a school wasn't that shocking.
He read the other page.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Uniform
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags
Set Books
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
Other Equipment
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
Where on earth was he supposed to get all of those things? Not in Little Whinging, that was for certain. He looked at the first page again, hoping that he had missed something. We await your owl. What did that mean? What did an owl have to do with anything?
Still, Harry was determined to answer. He got one of his school notebooks and a pen, and scrawled a response.
Professor McGongall,
I would be pleased to attend Hogwarts. However, I don't know where to get my school supplies, or how I'm meant to pay for them. Can you write me back with instructions? And is there any kind of scholarship for students who can't afford things?
Thank you,
Harry Potter
The next day, Harry nicked an envelope from his uncle, and placed the letter in the post. It was addressed only to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he wasn't sure it would get where he wanted it to go, but it was his only idea.
When he told Persephone about it, she did the snake equivalent of a shrug.
"You have to learn magic somewhere," she had said, and Harry supposed that was right.
Three days later that Harry got his reply.
* * *
[A/N: I guess I'm writing another fanfic? My muse wouldn't leave this idea alone, so I figured I might as well post it. This story is unedited, so please forgive any mistakes. Right now I'm unsure of pairings, but once I figure them otu I will let out know. Regardless, that won't be applicable until Harry's fourth year, at least.
Thank you for reading!]