ᴀ ᴅ ʀ ɪ ᴇ ɴ ɴ ᴇ [1]

02. letters

chapter two

LETTERS

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WHEN WE FINALLY GET HOME, Uncle Vernon can't get Piers out of the house fast enough. When Piers finally leaves, swearing that before the snake made its grand escape, it tried to squeeze him to death, Uncle Vernon can barely speak for his anger.

"Go - cupboard - stay - no meals -" he manages to say, before collapsing into a chair, and Aunt Petunia runs to get him some brandy.

Harry and I slowly make our way into the dark, cramped cupboard. I look at Harry, knowing what's happening.

"So," I say matter of factly.

"So," he replies. "Snakes. We can talk to them."

That catches me by surprise.

"We?" I ask, wondering if Harry's been secretly meeting with snakes that definitely don't belong in Britain over holidays too. "You talk to them too?"

"Well, if you mean I understood everything you said to the boa constrictor, then yes, I talk to them," says Harry, slightly confused.

"Okay," I say, and take a breath. "Right."

"Ada," Harry, begins. "When you- when you talked to it - the snake, I mean - you, well, you didn't look surprised. You just cursed. And you talked back to it. And you also were trying to keep us away from the reptile house. Have you- did you know we could do that?"

I sigh.

"Sort of," I shrug. "I knew I could talk to snakes. I've. . . I've been doing it for years - sorry for not telling you. Really. But I didn't know that you could, too. I suppose that was why I didn' tell you - I wasn't sure if you'd believe me. And now I know you will, so. . . here I am."

"Here you are," says Harry, frowning. "But. . . why? Why can we do this, though? It's like you said - Parseltongue or whatever the snake called it isn't a language mastered by humans."

"You're trying to come up with an explanation, aren't you?" I ask him. "You won't find a believable one. I've been trying for, I dunno, five years, from once I realised talking to snakes wasn't normal."

"Yeah. . ." Harry mumbles, and I know he's not listening. Harry did always like nice, straightforward, logical answers.

"Harry, listen," I say, waving my hand in front of his face. "Believe me, it'll be easier if you just come to accept you can do that random thing concerning snakes and move on with your life. There is no explanation."

Harry shakes his head, and sighs.

"You're probably right, Ada. You often are. But I just. . . it's so confusing. I mean, talking to snakes. Maybe it's a hereditary thing or something. Passed down from our parents."

Harry sighs yet again and leans in, resting his head against mine, and I know he's thinking about Mum and Dad again.

"I miss them," I say, leaning into my twin, the only decent family I have left.

"I wish they were here."

"Me too. But at least I've got you, huh? Imagine being stuck with the Dursleys all on your own."

Harry manages a weak smile.

"Imagine. What'd I do without you, Ada?"

"I honestly don't know."