Chapter Text
Vernon Dursley is not a very special man. When he hears people conversing quietly about a "Harry Potter" in his lunch break, he doesn't make the connection between the mystery character and his nephew until his wife points it out later that day, as he arrives back home.
That night, on their street, a light goes out, And then another. Nobody notices, of course, as it is god knows what hour in the middle of the night, but there is a very odd looking man standing at the end of Privet Drive, holding a little cylinder, and all of the light from the street lamps seems to be retreating into his device, for lack of a better word. At first glance, this man is alone, but as he rambles down the cold tarmac road, his head turns slowly to face a grey cat, sitting regally in front of a (very distasteful) garden shed, half rotten and smothered in cobwebs. One would this that perhaps this cat would be interested in all the spiders, but it takes no notice in them. In fact, this cat, which before now seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary, looks up slyly, and with a glance from the older man, transforms into a woman.
"Minerva McGonagall." mutters the old man, dryly. "Would you like to tell me why you are here early, perhaps?"
McGonagall gave the old man a glance, before looking on straight ahead. "I've been observing these muggles - at a safe distance, of course - for most of a day now, and they really are... the worst kind of muggles. Dirty, uncaring... Are you sure it's a good idea to leave him with these people, Albus?"
"These people are his only living relations, Minerva. We have no other choice; besides, he'll be safer here than anywhere else. Hardly anyone knows of the link between these people and him, and I can protect this house without many qualms," Albus retorts, "So it's better that he stays here until he is... of age to come and join us. After that, we can... Re-evaluate, if you are really so appalled. Fair?"
McGonagall nods curtly. It isn't the quietest of nights, or the quietest of places, but after a few more minutes of standing around nonchalantly, a quiet rumbling makes itself heard. A small spot in the sky starts to turn dark fairly briskly, and before you could say wizengamot, a large motorbike comes into view. Albus chuckles to himself at this sight, whilst Minerva sighs and looked at the ground. She wouldn't have expected any less from the man on the bike.
"Hagrid!" Albus exclaims. "Did you bring him in one piece?"
The man on the bike gives a swift nod, and replies in a somewhat gruff voice, which is a little alarming but at the same time flooded with friendship and happiness. You really needed to know the man to understand him, as he has a very thick accent, too.
"Aye, I reck'n th' littl' un fell asleep 'alf the way 'ere! Can' say I blames 'im, miself, it's been a tad rough on 'im today, I reckons. Can ya imagines all this runnin' about fer a lad of lil' Harry here's age, eh? Must be quite tirin' on the young 'un," Hagrid muses, partly to himself, and partly to the other two. "M'sure he'll grow up a fine young wizard." Setting the baby boy down on a doorstep below a door emblazoned with a number 4, and laying a note atop his body, the three share a knowing look before departing. Hagrid drives his bike away, but the other two are there one instant, and gone the next, almost as if by magic, it would have seemed to any onlookers.
• • •
• • •
When Dudley's birthday rolls around, Harry is dreading who he'll be dumped with as the Dursleys take their usual family outing. Harry isn't at all surprised with Dudley's tantrum at breakfast, but he does wish Dudley would develop some manners - as Harry would be lucky to get a new shirt for any occasion. Last christmas, he aquired a used toothbrush and a lump of chewed gum.
So, when Petunia announces that the "little swine" is going to have to come with them this year, as nobody is free to make sure he doesn't steal anything from the house, Harry isn't part of the collective groan. He shares a little smile with nobody in particular, instead.
It turns out that the Dursleys (and Harry, now), are going to be visiting the nearest zoo. So, after a hectic bundle into the car, and a threat from his uncle Vernon to not do anything stupid, Harry ends up at the zoo gate, trying to look like nobody so he can get in without any strange questions. He succeeds, and gets a marshmallow thrown at him as his "reward". He catches it, though nobody was expecting him to. He doesn't usually get luxuries such as sweets, so he tucks it into his pocket, deciding he'll save it for later.
When they reach the Creepy Crawly Cave (really, Harry thinks that name is awful), Dudley is already banging on the front of a glass tank, and Harry can see a large snake inside. Dudley starts screaming at the snake, and Harry can't control himself, really, he just sees red, and suddenly the glass is gone. Dudley tumbles into the snake tank, looking startled and not getting up. Harry looks at the snake, then says:
"You must be lonely in here, eh?"
"Yess, it is tediouss, watching all the younglingss go by doing nothing usseful..." Harry jumps back a little. Did the snake just talk?, he thinks to himself, then out of manners he replies.
"If you'd like, you can go. There's nothing stopping you. My name is Harry, by the way, nice meeting you... I didn't know snakes could talk to humans!"
"Oh, mossst can't, you sspeak the tongue, unlike these younglingsss. My title is Nagini - until we meet again, Harry." The snake slithers away, and Harry follows its movements with his eyes. After ten or so seconds, he glances back to the glass tank after hearing two dull thuds. Dudley is looking panicked - the glass has re-appeared, and he is stuck. Petunia and Vernon rush in, and while Petunia wails in distress, Harry lets a small laugh escape, which doesn't pass over Vernon. Glancing to the small boy at his feet, Vernon scowls, and gives a look as if to say "we'll discuss this later," then sets off to find a zoo worker to free his son.
When they all arrive back at 4 Privet Drive, Harry is given a stern talking to, and manhandled roughly back into his cupboard-under-the-stairs, a makeshift bedroom, his protests going unheard. The lock slams, and he's left in darkness. He doesn't cry, just sits for five minutes, before his mind returns to the treat in his pocket. He's glad that he saved it, as right now, his sweet treat cheers the little raven haired boy up immensely.