What’s your name?” Harry asked, peering down at the small snake which coiled around his wrist.
“Name?” It questioned, flicking its tongue curiously. “No name, Den-Harry.”
They were hidden away in a park just down the road from the Dursleys’. Harry had created a soft glow with no real source, just enough for him to see by really. The subtle warmth of magic thrummed under his skin, feeling almost tangible. Harry had forgotten the multiple times since his outburst, that his blood was only deep red and not illuminated by the magic pulsating with each heartbeat. He had plenty of opportunities to try and remember this fact, Dudley and his friends were almost obsessive with maiming him whenever possible now.
“Just Harry,” he corrected, using one hand to pet the sleek back of the snake. H ( e enjoyed the feeling of its scales; he’d expected the snake to feel slimy, but it was smooth and dry. Its scales were a dark brown, almost black, but they had a faint, splotchy pattern: dirt stained, like Harry’s own fingers.
“I could name you, if you’d like?”
“Den-Harry, yes.” It flicked its tongue, catching itself quickly. “No Den-Harry, Harry?”
Harry nodded his head, before realising that the small snake probably didn’t understand human body language enough to know what a nod meant . They had totally different bodies after all, Harry and his little friend. “ That’s right. I am Harry. ”
“I am?” It asked, its voice rising at the end to indicate a question.
At first, he’d thought talking to a snake would be just like talking to another person, only with foreign-sounding hissing, which, to Harry, sounded just like English anyway. The little snake didn’t understand the majority of the bigger words though, some of the bigger concepts. Its vocabulary was very limited. It made talking with it a challenge, but an interesting challenge.
Realising that his little friend was asking for its name, Harry tilted his head, looking at the serpent curiously. “I’m reading a book, the creator of this spell is Nikkoli Lutain. I don’t know what it does. But the name sounds interesting.”
“ Lutain? ” The little snake asked, pausing in what seemed like concentration, “ I...am? ”
Harry nodded, then, remembering himself, he smiled. “ You’re Lutain. ”
The snake looked as confused as Harry thought a snake might look. “You’re Lutain?”
Was it the contractions that the little snake didn’t understand? He thought about it for a moment, then realised that the problem might’ve been one of perspective.
“Okay, I am Harry. You are Lutain. In your eyes, I am Lutain, you are Harry,” Harry said, gesturing with his hands, before realising again that, since snakes didn’t have hands, his gesturing might not mean anything to the little snake.
YOU ARE READING
Antithesis
FanfictionRevenge is the misguided attempt to transform shame and pain into pride. Being forsaken and neglected, ignored and forgotten, revenge seems a fairly competent obligation at this point. Skylar is the boy who lived, that's why he's important. I'm no...
