Ensorcell (revising)

two

The only friends that Harriet could say she for sure had were the two little snakes that lived in her backyard. The oldest, called Poppy, claimed to be a magical snake, and Harriet let her believe that. She used to believe in magic too.

"Snakeling!" called Poppy, darting out from the bushes and wrapping herself around Harriet's arm, traveling up to rest on her neck, her face positioned next to Harriet's. Her adopted son, Rin, followed suit, thought he stayed on her arm, trying to eat the weeds as she tugged them from the ground.

They were your average garden snakes - though Poppy was a little more colorful, and her scales seemed to shimmer - and Harriet loved them like family. They brought her food sometimes, like vegetables and fruits they stole from the other gardens of Privet Drive. They had more snakes in on it too, and they would bring stuff to the little hole in the fence that the Dursleys didn't know about. Harriet made sure to cover it up with plants so they wouldn't ever know about it.

"Hello, Poppy, Rin." Harriet greeted her companions softly as she began her daily tasks. She wasn't sure weeds were supposed to grow this fast, but that's probably why they're called weeds.

"Where have you been, snakeling?" Poppy asked. Harriet dug into the dirt as she answered, searching for the root of the weed she was pulling out.

"I got in trouble for over-salting the eggs."

"I could get my friends to eat them for you!" Rin called, and Harriet giggled. The roots pulled out of the ground easily, and she set it into the box she was given.

"No, Rin, I don't want them eaten. At least not yet," she responded with a pet to Rin's head. Poppy hissed, and Harriet turned her head towards her.

"You could always use your magic, snakeling," Poppy said, and Harriet laughed, still weeding.

"I don't have magic, Poppy."

"I can smell it on you, little snake."

"Petunia finally let me use a nice smelling shampoo, you're sure that isn't it?"

Poppy hissed at her indignantly, sour at not being treated seriously. Rin was laughing at her comment though, holding his tail up for a high five. Or is it a tail five? A tail one?

"Sorry, Poppy. I just don't think that could be true."

In the next moment, a tomato was thrown into Harriet's hair. The juices soaked her hair, running down her back, and the humiliation began to set into her bones. She could hear retched Dudley's cackles, trying to form sentences between the pails of laughter leaving his fat lips.

She could hear the words he wasn't quite saying, calling her all of the names he was raised to call her, and more. When Harriet turned around, Dudley was on the ground, fat tears rolling down his equally fat face, holding his stomach like it was killing him. Harriet really wished it would.

Then Dudley caught fire.

She wishes there was a better way to explain it, but Dudley literally erupted into flames, and Harriet couldn't help the surprised giggle that left her. His laughter quickly turned to screams of pain and cried for help, and Harriet watched with morbid curiosity as his skin began to shrivel and burn.

Petunia was the first to come out, probably more alerted from the smell of burning flesh than his screams, and she screeched so loud Harriet thought she'd go deaf. Vernon was quick to follow, though he didn't allow himself time to process the fact that his child was rolling around on the ground trying to put it out, he stomped straight toward Harriet, and slapped her across the face. Which probably said a lot about his character.

She landed on the soft grass with a metallic taste in her mouth and a dull thud in her ears, and before she could check for blood Vernon was dragging her by her foot back to the cupboard. She couldn't help the elated mess of emotions she felt at seeing Dudley in pain, and she knew that that would be the last time she'd have to hear from the seal again.