Chapter 1
Chapter one
Petunia and Vernon Dursley were proud to say they were perfectly normal, some would even go so far as to say they were the epitome of normalcy. In the confines of the cupboard under the stairs at number four privet drive was a boy whose existence threatened to shatter the Dursley’s picture perfect suburban image. The boy had a head full of unruly black curls, tangled and knotted from neglect. He thought he was small for his age, whatever that age was anyway. It was dark in the cupboard, his only company the spiders that made their homes there. The boy laid on his side, curled tightly into a ball as if he could suppress the gurgles and grumbles of his empty stomach. He shifted knocking against the cupboard door as he did and there was an eerie creak as it swung open. The boy lay there frozen for a moment before he made his decision. He cast a furtive glance around the hallway before crawling out into it. The house was dark and silent. He could hear his blood rush through his ears and feel his heart pound frantically as he tiptoed to the door and tentatively tried the handle. It moved down with a soft click and he pushed the door open disbelievingly. Casting an unsure glance back towards his cupboard the boy stepped out the door shutting it gently behind him.
The cold September air greeted him bitingly, the thin and raggedy pyjamas that hung off his frame doing nothing to conserve his body heat. The boy started to walk down the drive. Reaching the pavement in front of number four Privet Drive he paused a little voice in the back of his mind whispering that he shouldn’t do this, that his poor relatives would worry for him and how could he do that to them after they had taken him in. The boy frowned, his empty stomach gurgled again and his resolve strengthened. With a determined frown adorning his face, he began to make his way along the pavement of Privet Drive. His footsteps slowed as he reached the corner at the end of the drive, he had never been further than this point, what was even out there for him anyway. The insidious voice whispered in his head again, his parents didn’t want him, nor would anyone else so he had nowhere to go but home. He swallowed nervously, his eyes flitting about as he tracked his surroundings but he didn’t stop walking. He walked out of Privet Drive and down Holly Lane, then he turned off Holly Lane and made his way along Chrysanthemum Way to Bracken Road. Chrysanthemum was a big word, he thought idly tracing the street sign with his fingers as he passed it and now reaching Bracken Road his bare feet had become painfully numb with cold and he was fairly certain that gravel and small rocks had embedded themselves permanently in the soles of his feet.
The night was cloudless, a crescent moon shining high above him, but in the east the faintest hint of pink had begun to emerge and the world was no longer silent. Cars were beginning to leave their drives and pass the lonely boy on their daily commute to London and their drivers passed off the sight of the raggedy child as an overly tired hallucination or trick of the light. The boy on the other hand began to get nervous, cars were loud and noisy creatures and their drivers he believed to be even more so if Uncle Vernon was anything to go by with his bellowing and raging and car that roared out of the drive each morning. On the other side of the road the pavement was bordered by a thick hedge and beyond that was a field of tall grass blowing gently in the September breeze. The boy cast a furtive glance around before scurrying across the road, dropping down on his stomach before the hedge he began to slowly wiggle through a gap in the thorny branches. Fallen thorns dug into his forearms as he pushed through the dirt and the branches of the hedge spiked him pulling at his hair and tearing his already pitiful pyjamas. He ignored the pinpricks of pain and pushed himself through to the other side of the fence and scrambled quickly upright.
The tall grass waved invitingly above his head and the boy slipped into their embrace. The ground wasn’t as hard on his feet now, the soil felt crumbly and soft against his numb soles and all around him all he could see was green. He couldn’t see the hedge anymore let alone the road but he kept walking even as legs began to buckle and his eyelids began to droop, he walked until the distant sound of cars and people faded to nothing and the only noise was the gentle chirping of crickets and the grass stems brushing against each other. The boy blinked tiredly and finally stopped walking. The ground was soft, softer than his cupboard at any rate so he sat down curling into a tight ball tipping himself onto his side.
“Villain! Murderer! Foul little guttersnipe who dares disturb my sleep!” a voice screeched in his ear. The boy shot upright.
“What? Who’s there?”
“Speak? You speak?”
“I speak, should I not speak I’m sorry.” apologised the boy looking around for his conversation partner. Something cold nudged his arm.
“You may speak. I have never spoken to one of your kind before.” The boy looked down coming eye to eye with a browny-grey snake with warm amber eyes.
“Hello,” he whispered. “What’s your name?”
“I don’t have a name, what is yours?” replied the snake, its tongue flicking out as it spoke.
“They call me boy or freak, I don’t know if that is my name though.”
“That is rude. I would name you Smidge for your size. Your kind are usually so large.”
“I would name you Hart for the one on your head.” he giggled tracing the heart-shaped marking on top of the reptile’s head. The scales felt smooth to the touch, a pleasant sensation to the boy. The snake reared back.
“I have a heart on my head? What is a heart?” he exclaimed in confusion.
“I think hearts hold all your love.” the boy said quietly.
“Well where is yours?” asked the snake curiously eyeing the little boy and finding no such marking on him.
“I don’t think I have one.” he responded casting his eyes down to the dirt making patterns in it with the tips of his fingers.
“You can share mine.” offered Hart. The boy’s face broke into a wide grin.
“Really? Can I stay with you then?” he asked eagerly.
“Yes but the months are turning cold and I must find a warm place to stay. You are warm.” announced Hart, nuzzling the boy. “Yes we shall stay together.” he affirmed, crawling forward and wrapping around the boy’s arm like a muted bracelet. The boy curled gently around Hart and closed his eyes allowing himself to drift off to sleep as the sun began to rise above him.
A loud pop resounded through the meadow field as a very colourful individual appeared within it. The deep purple, vibrant orange and lime green that adorned the figure clashing violently with the calm pale green of the tall grass stems. The boy blinked blearily, the loud pop just barely waking him from his much needed slumber. A shadow loomed over him. “My dear boy this just won’t do.” announced the shadow in an apologetic tone as something twinkled in the boy’s eyesight. “I’m afraid it is for the greater good.” Bony fingers gripped the boy’s wrist and another pop sounded. He wanted to thrash and wail, his insides felt as though they had been sucked through a straw that had been knotted in several places and they did not settle easily back into place. He could feel his empty stomach rebelling as acid filled his throat, making him choke on the burning sensation. He forced his eyes open and his blood ran cold. No! No! No!
“You stupid insolent boy, how dare you run away!” screeched Aunt Petunia at a pitch that could shatter glass. Lucky that it didn’t really because he would no doubt be the one to have to clean the mess of glass up. He felt a thick hand grip his upper arm.
“Get in there.” bellowed Uncle Vernon in his ear, throwing him into his cupboard his head colliding with the wall making stars explode behind his eyes as the door slammed shut behind him.
“What was that?” hissed Hart angrily uncoiling himself from the boy’s arm.
“My relatives.” he responded miserably.
“Nestmates? Why not leave?”
“They won’t let me. I tried.” he answered silent tears making tracks down his hollow cheeks.
“Ridiculous, how will you grow strong if they do not let you into the world?” Hart hissed outraged.
“I don’t think they want me to.” he answered quietly.
“Stupid humans. I will teach you Smidge, you will be brave hunter and know how to take care of yourself. You don’t need them.” Hart declared resoundingly.
“Promise?” whispered the boy as the pain in his head became blinding and the world went white.