Weighed & Measured {HP}

1. the snake in the garden

His aunt had shut him out of the house. Again.

With a sigh, nine-year-old Harry Potter headed to the garden, his small stomach rumbling as he went. He had been refused lunch because... well, because. His aunt had said something about unnatural behavior, but Harry wasn't really sure what she meant. All he knew was that sometimes, he didn't get to eat.

At least when he was outside he got to drink from the hose as much as he wanted. That was nice.

Aunt Petunia had gotten some new flowers that he was supposed to plant, so Harry got to work, kneeling in the grass, his hands soon covered in dirt. It was springtime, so it wasn't too hot out, and he was glad. It was almost relaxing, being away from his loathsome relatives. Or it would be, if he knew that his work wouldn't be scrutinized and he punished for the smallest mistake, real or imaginary.

Digging a hole for another flower, he startled slightly when he saw a grass snake, curled up in the shade. It was very small, and Harry thought it might be a baby.

It raised its head and hissed at him, and, reflexively, Harry apologized.

"Sorry," he said, before reminding himself that the snake couldn't understand him, anyway. Still, he was a lonely child, and if he could be friends with the spiders in his cupboard, he could be friends with a snake, as well. "You'd better move along," he continued. "If my family finds you here, they'll probably kill you."

For someone who was as proud of her garden as Aunt Petunia, she certainly hated anything that was natural in it. Harry didn't understand it, but then, he didn't understand a lot about his relatives.

Harry expected the snake to slither away, just to get away from a scary human, but then the last thing that he expected happened.

The snake spoke back.

"You speak?" it said, tilting its head curiously. "Human speaks?"

Harry stared. What? Was this some kind of special, magic snake?

"Yes," he said slowly. "But I've never spoken to a snake before. Can you speak to all humans?"

He wasn't sure if it was the snake who was unique, or if it was him. Could he speak to all snakes? He'd never had the opportunity to try before.

The snake hissed, though it was a different kind of sound than before.

"No. Humans dumb, loud, scary. Never met a human that spoke, but mother told stories."

Harry looked around. He didn't think his aunt or cousin was watching, and his uncle was at work. He leaned down a little bit, curious.

"What kind of stories?" he asked.

"Special humans that use a stick to do magic. Stay away from them. But even more special humans can speak. Snake Speakers. Good humans."

Humans that used a stick to do magic? Harry thought of his dreams, of the flying motorcycle, the green light, the man laughing and holding a stick - a wand.

Was that what the snake meant? Were there really people who could do magic?

"Oh," he said quietly. If he could speak to snakes, maybe... maybe he could do magic. "Do you have to be magic to speak to snakes?" he asked hesitantly.

The snake nodded.

"Yes. Special magic."

Well.

It certainly would explain a lot. Like the strange things that always seemed to happen around Harry. Maybe he was doing those things.

It would explain his relative's behavior, if they knew. They would hate it if he was magic. Unnatural.