Divine Intervention

Harry curled up under the slim roof hanging between two overarching buildings. His tiny body racked with painful shivers. He was so cold.

He should have known it was too good to be true. His aunt and uncle normally vehemently refused to bring him anyway. So it was certainly suspicious when they decided to bring him with them on holiday for once. He had been too blinded by overwhelming joy and excitement at actually getting to leave Surrey for the first time. And a tender hope that this might mean they were beginning to see him as family.

He was wrong. Very wrong.

Uncle Vernon had been sent to Mumbai by Grunnings on a business venture. It was an all expenses paid trip for two weeks so Petunia and Dudley were going to go as well and make a holiday of it.

When Harry had first heard, he had assumed he would be shuffled off to stay with Mrs Figg down the road as usual. He was shocked to be suddenly included.

He had felt a bubbling happiness the entire journey as he experienced many firsts. The airport was loud and busy and he had shied away from the overwhelming crowds, but getting to fly on a plane was fun, even if the take off had made him feel sick.

The busy Mumbai streets had offered many things to gawk at from the back of their rental car. There were so many strange and unusual things he had never seen before. And everything was so colourful. There were people wearing clothes he was used to seeing in England, but also women draped in brightly coloured saris. The scents wafting through the air had made his belly rumble with hunger. Everything smelled amazing and rich with flavour.

Whilst he had, unfortunately, spent most of the trip in the hotel room, (the Dursleys had insisted he stay out of sight and locked away so he wouldn’t ruin their trip) he had managed to sneak out a few times to peek at the busy streets when they had gone on day trips. Everything was amazing!

There was so much life. Everywhere he looked there was something new to see. He had never had so much fun. He had looked longingly at the food sold by street vendors but with no money, it was an impossibility.

Until one of them, an old man, had caught him looking. He had waved Harry over and he had gone tentatively, anticipating a scolding for lingering. Only to have the man shove something called a Vada Pav into his trembling hands. When Harry had tried to return it, saying he had no money, the man had waved him off. Harry had given the man a small smile before darting away with his precious burden. He savoured the treat as one of the first things he had been allowed to eat all day.

Harry only ever slipped out for a little while and made sure to be back well before the Dursleys. He should have been more suspicious when his Aunt had said he could come with them to have a look around the city one more time before they left for the airport that evening.

Harry had spent most of the day following them around, still entranced by all the sights. When it was around early afternoon, Aunt Petunia had told him to go and sit on the wall and wait for them whilst they went to get lunch.

He had watched as they disappeared off into the crowds, perfectly content to sit and watch, swinging his legs merrily.

He had waited for a very long time.

It only dawned on him that they weren’t coming back-that they had forgotten him-when the night began creeping in and the sun shrank below the horizon.

He had tried to go back to the hotel but the maze of streets left him confused and eventually he had to accept that he was utterly lost.

As darkness fell, Harry had settled into a dark corner to wait for morning. The darkness didn’t scare him. He was used to it after endless hours spent locked in his dark cupboard. It provided an element of safety.

What he couldn’t stand was the cold. For somewhere so hot in the day, the nights were cooler but still on the warm side. Harry was left freezing from a sudden influx of rain that had left him a bedraggled, sodden, shivering mess.

Harry huddled closer to the wall he was leaning against, hoping to leach some of the warmth left in it after the boiling day. He clenched his eyes shut as he tried to ignore the sounds of the night and get some sleep.

He was succeeding and beginning to drift off, when he heard a sliding sound. Like something was dragging across the paved paths.

His eyes flickered open and he looked curiously around to find the cause of the noise.

Harry froze when his gaze met a pair of dark, slitted eyes.

A snake.

It was long with scales so dark it fit in seamlessly with the darkness of the night, except for a length of muted yellow scales running along its underbelly. It had a hood extending outwards and its tongue flickered out very few moments to taste the air.

Harry scrambled backwards as the snake lifted up its head and began to slither towards him.

“What is a hatchling doing out here so late?”

Harry tumbled back.

“You can talk?!”

The snake looked at him affronted. “Of course I can talk. All snakes can. It is simply that often you two legs are too dumb to notice.”

“But you can speak English?” Harry asked, moving slightly nearer now that the snake seemed less inclined to bite him.

“I am not speaking English but the language of snakes. As are you, little speaker.”

“But it sounds just like English to me!” Harry exclaimed.

“Listen close and hear the difference.” The snake commanded.

The next time he spoke, Harry did as instructed and felt the subtle difference in the way his mouth moved and the hissy sounds of his consonants. “You’re right! It does sound different. But what’s a speaker?” Harry looked cautiously back at the snake, hoping for an answer.

“A speaker,” the snake explained slowly as it slithered closer. “Is a very special type of human who is snake Kin and can speak the language of snakes. But it may that you are True Kin and simply too young to take on your true form.”

“True kin?”

“Humans who are only humans sometimes but mainly snakes.”

Harry nodded, not really understanding but hesitant to ask further questions.

“Why are you out here all alone hatchling? Where is your nest mother?”

“I don’t have one of those,” Harry sighed. “And my relatives left me. They hate me and I guess they decided they didn’t want me anymore.”

The snake reared back, its tongue flickering out. “They must be truly awful to leave you alone and defenceless. You are far too young to be on your own and out of your nest.”

“Well, I can’t go back. So I don’t know what I’m going to do now. If they didn’t want me, no one will.”Harry felt tears start to build up in the corners of his eyes and he let out a little sniffle as he tried to hold them back.

“Nonsense,” the snake hissed. “If they do not want you, I shall keep you.”

“Really?” Harry looked up hopefully as he rubbed at the corner of his eyes.

“Yes,” the snake moved its head in a mimicry of a nod. It was quite funny to watch. “You may call me Namira, young one. What do they call you?”

“Harry,” he mumbled out, still feeling a little stunned at what was happening.

“Well, Hari. From now on, you will be my hatchling. But first, we should try to awaken your true form and see if you are True Kin.”

“How do we do that?” Harry perked up.

“I will bite you and my venom will trigger the transformation.”

Harry teetered back. “But what if I’m not one, won’t your venom kill me?”

The snake-Namira-shook it’s-her head. “No, the venom is not strong enough for that. And your speaker magic will ward it off if you do not transform.”

“You can’t say that!” Harry gasped.

“Say what?” Namira looked confused.

“The m word,” Harry leaned in and whispered. “Magic.”

“Why? Magic is not a bad thing. It just means you are special.”

“It’s not?” Harry asked, feeling very confused at the proclamation. His relatives had always told him that he was a freak who caused freakish things to happen around him all the time. Magic was not a word he dared to utter in the Dursley household. Even mentioning it vaguely would result in being locked in the cupboard with no food for a day or two at least.

“No it is not.” Namira insisted. “I have seen many with magic. It makes you special and powerful.”

“Okay.” Harry begrudgingly accepted. He decided to ignore that revelation for now and examine the possibility that magic wasn’t bad later. “Will you bite me now?”

“I will,” Namira nodded. “But you must be sure. It may cause you great pain and it will change you forever if it works.”

“I’m sure,” Harry said, not stopping to think about the possibilities. He wanted the what Namira was offering. The warmth of family and a place where magic and him weren’t freakish. If he had to be bitten to get it, then so be it.

“Very well.” Namira came forward and bared her sharp fangs. Not wasting a moment, she dug them into the bare flesh of Harry’s arm.

Harry’s body froze in response as liquid fire poured through his veins. He let out a sharp scream as his body was overcome with a strong burning sensation. His muscles locked and he whimpered as pain surged through him. His sight flashed in and out of focus.

With a final glimpse of Namira’s onyx eyes and one more agonised whimper, Harry collapsed to the ground in a heap of limbs, and gave into the encroaching darkness.