Chapter 1
Harry always knew he was special; he just didn’t know how special he was. His relatives didn’t think he was special – they call him names like freak and useless. Harry tried his hardest not to let those names get to him, but it’s hard for an eight-year-old not to.
There are times when Harry does things he can’t explain. His aunt and uncle don’t like it when he does those things. His uncle would take off his belt and try to beat the ‘freakishness’ out of Harry, or they would lock him in his cupboard. There was this one time aunt Petunia cut all his hair off, except for the bangs covering his lightning-bolt shaped scar, but the next day it all grew back. Another time was when Harry was running from his cousin and his cousins’ friends (his cousin’s gang were playing a game called ‘Harry Hunting’) at school when Harry jumped behind a dumpster and ended up on the school roof. The only time his relatives liked Harry’s special ability was when he changed his appearance.
One day Harry overheard his relatives talking about his appearance and how they wished he looked normal. So, he changed. He thought that if he looked different, they might love him like they do with Dudley. Before Harry had chestnut skin, raven hair with a reddish hue but looked redder when the sun showed their rays on Harry, and a white streak of hair right where his scar is, and Harry’s vibrant emerald eyes sparkled with life. Now Harry has honey skin, though his arms face and legs are slightly tanned because of his work outdoors. His hair turned deep brown, and his eyes lime, over time the life that once shown in them disappeared and a fake one took its place.
Aunt Petunia was shocked the next day but didn’t say anything. Uncle Vernon just yelled at him to brush his hair, as Harry couldn’t make his hair straight instead of curly nor change his height. Harry didn’t like this new appearance however so once in his cupboard he lets the look melt off of him. And, if he keeps it up too long, he gets tired. He learnt that the hard way.
When Harry goes to school the teachers send hateful glares at him when they think he is not looking. No one wants to be Harry’s friend, the staff all think he is a delinquent and a troublemaker, so Harry has learnt to survive by himself. He tells himself, ignoring the aching hole in his chest, that he doesn’t need anyone or their approval.
------
It was an average hot summers day when that all changed.
The day stared like any other day; Aunt Petunia rapped on Harry’s door yelling at him to wake up like she knows he already isn’t. Her unnatural high-pitched shrieking voice echoing around the house. She unlocked the door and Harry changed both his appearance and clothes. He made his way into the kitchen to make breakfast that consisted of eggs, sausages, baked beans, toast, and oatmeal (the oatmeal was for his aunt and the rest was for Dudley and Vernon) under Petunias' watchful gaze. After he plated the food and washed all the dishes, Petunia gave Harry a list of common chores he must complete before the end of the day lest Vernon hits him with a belt, which they both knew was going to happen anyway, for he finds pleasure in hurting Harry.
It’s around noon when Harry hears someone talking “Mmm- that was good.” It seemed to be coming from one of the bushes in front of where Harry was plucking weeds, tending to Aunt Petunia’s garden. “That silly mouse had no chance of ever escaping me.” The voice hissed(?)
“Hello, is anyone there?” Harry asked (in the back of his mind Harry registered that he was hissing too). At that moment, an adder snake popped out from under the bush in front of him.
Its rose eyes, that sparkled with hidden knowledge, looked up at Harry as it hissed “a speaker? I haven't seen a speaker before.”
“Sorry? What do you mean by speaker?”
“Well, you’re speaking to me, aren't you?
“I guess... But how am I speaking to you? I doubt you’re speaking in English.” Harry tilts his head a bit like a puppy does.
“By magic of course” if snakes could roll their eyes at the obvious, it was no doubt to Harry the sarcasm it was expressing.
“That’s impossible. Uncle Vernon says magic doesn’t exist”
“Well, your uncle is wrong, I can even smell the magic coming from you, it's very strong. Although the scent of obnoxious pray is a bit stronger.” Harry sat there for a moment contemplating what the snake just told him. Magic is real? No! That’s impossible! But a small voice in his head countered that, it reminded of all the times he did something that no one could explain. Like the time he turned his teacher’s wig blue or how he could change his appearance. “Could you, maybe, teach me to control my magic? Harry asked politely.
The snake thought for a moment, humming, “Why not, I need something to do anyways. In exchange for food and shelter, of course.”
“What is your name?”
“I don’t have one”
“Ok... What about Athena? She’s the Greek goddess of wisdom and handcraft. One of her sacred animals is a snake too, the other is an owl.”
“Athena. I like it. Pick me up, won’t you? I must stay by you if I am to teach you.”
“Ok but what if my relatives see you? I don’t want them to hurt you”
“Just wish for me not to be seen then your magic will respond to your request. Oh, before I forget what is your name? Athena said sliding onto Harry’s arm “Harry.” With that Athena settled comfortably on Harry hidden by both Harry’s magic and the oversized clothing he was wearing.