Garden Snakes
Harry giggled.
It was soft and hesitant, but pure. With an ethereal undertone that caught on the hearts of any within hearing distance; filling them with an indescribable emotion that caught in their throats and reached to their very souls.
Or it would have if anyone human had been around to hear it.
Hidden away in the bushes, Harry sat and hissed in joyous tones with the grass snakes that had taken to calling him Hatchling. Occasionally breaking into giggles, whenever one of the snakes came too close and their hissy breath and flickering tongs tickled his skin.
For all the Horror that Harry had experienced throughout the 3 years he had been living with the Dursley’s, he never truly lost his guilelessness and wilde love for the world around him.
Not the human settlements or the hidden wizarding cities; but the towering trees, sarcastic but loving snakes, trickling streams and flowering fields that thrummed with a power that resonated with him on a spiritual level.
It was this connection to the elements of nature and on a deeper level the lands of Faerie; nurtured and grown by the Shadows till it was a permanent part of his very being; that had kept Harry alive for so long.
Harry would obey the Dursleys to the letter, and only that. A form of rebellion that infuriated them to no end and was one of the few ways he could vindicate himself against his abusers.
It was almost as enjoyable as manipulating his words, so they sounded innocuous when in reality they were horrifically insulting towards his incompetent jailers -for what else could they be with the way they treated him. They were not family, no matter what the Horse-faced woman insisted he call them.
The lack of reaction and outright confusion his comments caused always created a pleasurable warmth as again and again, his relatives failed to win The Game of Words -and it was such a fun game. You could never lie, but if you twisted a truth enough it was easy to mislead those around you. Harry almost never won The Game against the Shadows, and even when he did he was sure they were going easy on him. But the Dursleys were easy to play against. It was like they weren’t even trying!
Sometimes he would question if it was worth the pain that always came after, but in the end, the pleasure he took from it was often what got him through his dreary tasks when he was unable to escape to the outside.
Like the Shadows, the Garden Snakes were his friends. They whispered secrets to him both old and new. Of magick and mundane, and Midgard and Faerie. They were a comfort that stood by him and did not judge him for their morals and understanding were not of mortals but that of their immortal predecessors.
Perhaps it was because Harry’s friends were only those of old magick that he thought in a way that aligned more with that of the Fey than it did with mortals. Or even the breakable magic users.
Perhaps it was simply because he was barely human himself. A being of faerie that was trapped until something, someone came to break his chains and set him free.
Whatever the case, Harry didn’t mind nor even notice. His isolation working in the Fey’s interest as Harry grew to mirror his attitudes and beliefs on those that the Snakes and Shadows held, never truly taking upon himself the tainted and strange views held by mortals. For who was there to teach him?
Certainly not the Dursley’s. The few times they had tried, Harry had rejected it on principle. His refusals only growing stronger when he felt the approval of his Shadows.
As time passed, Harry became more and more enchanted with the fey. Losing himself in it so much that he ached to be released from that which chained him.
Why must he stay?
Why couldn’t he leave?
And each time he asked the Grass Snakes would comfort and the Shadows would answer.
“Hussssssh Little Treasure…
Soon she will come.
Soon she will claim you.
Soon you will be where you truly belong.
And Faerie will have what its owed.”