Chapter Text
The Boy got up bright and early, trimming Aunt Petunia’s rose bushes as she demanded the night prior. The sun had yet to rise, but Boy was already knee deep in the dirt, snipping thorns and branches with a monotone precision only years of practice could create. He looked back momentarily to see if any neighbors had seen him, but it seemed the Dursleys were right; no one was awake on such a lazy Saturday morning.
Boy’s attention snapped back to the garden when he heard a small, shaky voice. It sounded like a whisper, but he couldn’t tell from which direction it originated.
“Help me! Foolish human, help me this instant!” His gaze finally drifted downwards, where a small brown garden snake was wriggling around, caught on a stray wire. But that was it. Where was the person speaking? No one should be awake right now!
Boy looked around again, now uncomfortable, and picked up his pliers in case it was another prank from Dudley. But no- Dudley had never gotten up so early for anything, and likely would never. He focused his attention then on the trapped snake, who he realized was lashing its tongue furiously in the air.
“You! Little one! Help!”
For the first time in a week, Boy spoke. His voice was a raspy, unused thing.
“What? How’re you speaking?”
The snake abruptly stopped its thrashing.
“You speak, little boy?”
“I’m not speaking, you are… I don’t understand,” Boy mumbled. This was another strange occurrence to add to his list.
“I have never met a human who speaks… Nevermind that, untangle me now, little one,” The snake brattily commanded. Boy stared at the snake, and gave a sidelong glance at his pliers. It was a command, similar to the ones given by Petunia and Vernon, but without any power it was simply a rudely phrased request. He had the power here, he realized. He decided whether or not the snake would escape.
“Why should I cut you free?” He asked. Boy’s tone had changed somehow.
“I shall bring you a rat to feast on,” The snake suggested.
“I don’t want a rat!”
“Well, why not? They are tasty and plentiful. Eat one and another comes running.”
“Rats aren’t very tasty to me.” Boy complained.
“Is something wrong with you, little boy? What do you want in exchange then?” The snake was now simply staring soundlessly, waiting for a reply. But Boy had already decided he wanted to save the snake. It was the first time someone had spoken to him and offered something, and so he would save it.
He got to work, carefully lifting its small body and detangling the wire, cutting in certain places until the garden snake was free to move. It slithered a circle around him, hissing thanks.
“Are you going to leave now?” Asked Boy. That was unfair. He had done him a kindness, and the snake needed to stay to pay it back. That was how the world worked.
“Little one, you did not answer when I asked what you wanted. I am hungry, and I shall eat.” The snake then tried to slither away. No. The snake owed him! He freed it, and now the snake owed him! His first friend. The snake was his very first friend. He had to stay.
Panicked, Boy scrambled onto his feet, grabbing the snake by its neck. It thrashed in his hands. Despite its small size, it was quite strong. Boy had to squeeze harder to keep it.
“You can’t leave!” Boy begged. The snake turned hostile now. It tried to turn around to bite his wrist.
“Let me go!”
“You’re my friend! You can’t leave!” Boy shrieked, forgetting himself. The snake bit him. In shock, Boy dropped it and fell back. It shook slightly, and moved forward.
Curling his hands into fists, Boy’s eyes welled up for the first time in years.
The snake had been tangled in wire, left to die. Without Boy, who would have found it? It would have been alone to starve to death, yet Boy saved it. The snake owed him. Nothing came free. The snake was his! It was his right! His first friend, moving away so casually… he couldn’t stand it.
He picked up his pliers.
Slowly, deliberately, he snuck up to the snake with the same silent footsteps the Dursleys had drilled into him.
It continued on, unsuspecting, ungrateful.
This was his right.
The snake was his now, just as he was property of the Dursleys’. He saved it. Whether or not it lived or died was up to him.
This was what it deserved. What all disobeying property deserved.
He clutched his pliers tight, and lunged.
Soon, in mere seconds, it stopped twitching. Its soft, pliant body sagged in his arms. He felt its heartbeat dwindle and finally stop. Its blood still ran down its body, bright red dripping on green grass.
It was simply an empty vessel now, limp and cold. He cradled it, switched hands to feel the lifeless form move only according to his whims. His will was its own. If he held its body, the tail and head would drop. If he held only the head, the body fell, spilling from his wrist like a waterfall.
It was only a baby, he mourned. His baby, gone from the world entirely.
If it had a second chance, he knew his baby would follow him. It would act right, do as he wanted, accompany him and join him in the darkness under the cupboard. If it had a second chance it would be his friend and stay, like all friends do. His first friend, a sassy snake who would protest and complain and tease him but ultimately follow him. A true friend that would stay with him forever.
They’d spend his mornings talking quietly, planning schemes to ruin the neighbors’ yards. They would curl up together under the singular flickering light of Boy’s room, the snake on his chest as a reminder of its presence. It would catch mice for him, leave them on his cot maybe, and he’d act exasperated. The snake could even scare Dudley away for him. They’d talk all day and night, and the Dursleys could never punish him for fear of any other snakes hanging around. And when he was older and moved out, the snake would follow while huffing about the change in setting.
It would be a friend.
His friend.
Unbeknownst to Boy, as he was stuck in his delusions, white, glowing wisps seeped from his hand. It was as if he was emitting fog. The snake twitched once. That was when Boy’s large eyes finally settled back on it. He smiled a toothy grin, but it looked manic when combined with his red-rimmed eyes.
“My friend! My friend, are you coming back for me?” He giggled. The snake twitched, and thrashed as its skin and muscles knit back together. The glowing white light shrouded the snake’s entire body, knitting and pulling as if by magic.
It had come back alive!
It was dead, he knew that. Or it had been dead once. But now it was back. The ultimate act of servitude. Loyalty that transcended death. The white light receded from his cupped hands and revealed the snake, placid and waiting.
“You’re my friend,” Boy said simply.
“Yes I am,” said the snake. It wriggled in excitement to be his friend.
He smiled again. This was exactly what he’d wanted!