Chapter 2: Through the Eyes of a Child
Summary: The night Lily and James Potter died is well known. What no one suspected, or even imagined, was that their spirits remained with their son.
Disclaimer: As much as I would love to own (or live in, magic rocks) the 'Potterverse' … I do not.
A/N: Parseltongue will be in italics, to easily differentiate between it and human speech. Also, anyone who has either owned a snake, or done any sort of research on them knows that snakes do not have eyelids. They actually have clear scales over their eyes that turn milky when preparing to shed (and are a pain in the butt to remove if they don't come off in the shedding process, ball pythons are awesome pets, but have some of the patchiest sheds I've ever seen). Because of this fact, the snakes in my story will not blink, wink, or do anything else to denote having anatomically incorrect body parts, like they do in Canon. No offence J.K., just one of my lil' Canon nitpicks.
There could be no denying the simple harshness, perhaps even cruelty that the Dursley's inflicted upon the unwanted child in their home. The years marched on and his parents did all they could from within their son's mind to dampen the hatred of his own blood relations. They gave Harry love and acceptance for every hate-filled comment or derogatory slur. Lily would sing to him every night and James would regale him with tales of his school days during the long hours in the cupboard. They taught him to read with Dudley's unwanted books, and told him everything they knew about the wizarding world.
Together, James and Lily explored Harry's mind, sorting scattered thoughts and memories, classifying and categorizing everything. After all, they knew the prophecy, and what it would mean for their son eventually. They worked to prepare both themselves and him, for the day when he would need the esoteric branches of magic like Occlumency; and with their own shields backing his own, anyone attempting to break in to the mind of Harry Potter would be in for more than a nasty surprise.
Most worrying of all was their almost immediate discovery of the link to…something. It hung in a corner of Harry's mind, a malignant tumour that seemed to be just biding its time. Working together they erect the strongest barriers they can, meshing and interweaving them together and walling off the connection completely.
Through their exploration, organization, and protection of Harry's mind they discovered they can create and build within his mind. They recreated Godric's Hollow over many months as they last remember it, adding a full size Quidditch Pitch and an overflowing flower garden. They place all of Harry's memories in the library, ready for when he can achieve the level of meditation necessary to enter his own mindscape.
A side effect of organizing their son's mind occurred when they stopped being able to see everything Harry saw as if looking through his eyes. A little more exploration revealed a section of his mind that acted almost like a muggle cinema, and, after Lily explained the idea to her husband, they created such a cinema and connected it to Godric's Hollow, so they could see what he needed and wanted them to see and kept private what he wanted to keep private, like bathroom visits and, later on in life ... other things.
{O.o}
Time marched on, and Harry grew. Ignoring the Dursley's as much as possible, spending time in mental conversation with his parents. At the age of five he began Primary School with Dudley, even though he'd never had the luxury of attending nursery school – like Dudley - before primary school. The first time he came 'home' with better marks than Dudley, the only reward for his hard work was to be locked in his cupboard.
Not for no reason was James Potter one of the ringleaders of the Marauders, however. He thought for a moment; and then, with Lily's somewhat unwilling help, they enacted a plan to prevent further harm from coming to Harry, especially over grades: False marks.
Following his fathers' lead, Harry snuck into his teachers' desk during recess and pilfered one of the blank progress reports, then headed to the library and the copy machine. After some practice Harry was able to forge his teachers' signature, and put down marks that wouldn't get him in trouble. When Vernon signed the fake form Harry forged his signature on the real one. Thus he is able to do well in school without risking the ire of the Dursleys.
It took Harry many weeks of constant effort, but with his parent's guidance, and the groundwork of an organized mind he was able to visualize the door behind closed eyes and step in to his mindscape for the first time at the age of seven. The reunion within his mind was one of tearful happiness. Unwilling as they were, his parents used this opportunity to explain everything that they could; showing him the blocked link, their theory as to why they are in his mind, about the war and Voldemort. They showed him the organization they've done of his memories, and taught him how to put new memories directly into his 'library'. They also taught him to sense and harness his magical core, to make his 'accidental magic' not quite so accidental.
As soon as Harry started having bouts of accidental magic James and Lily help him work through it so that it's either reversed before anyone notices, or easily explained. When Petunia cut all his hair off and it's back by morning, Harry was able to convince them that he would have attracted more attention to the Dursleys with the outlandish new style that with his normal shaggy locks, and he wasn't punished. When he ended up on the roof of the school kitchens they were able to guide him back through the accidental apparition, telling him the basics of strong desire and intent, to get him back on the ground with none the wiser.
When The Dursleys started leaving Harry at Mrs. Figg's James and Lily didn't know whether to laugh at the irony of the Dursleys leaving Harry with the only magically aware person in the neighbourhood, or curse Dumbledore for introducing Harry to magic so sparingly; for Arabella Figg was a Squib and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. After a few visits of Mrs. Figg acting nothing but muggle however, they realized that she wasn't going to tell him anything, and their frustration with the old wizard grew. They tried to rationalize that the Headmaster was at least keeping an eye on Harry, but the rarity of his visits to Mrs. Figg's made this seem a half-hearted effort at best.
{O.o}
It was Dudley's 11th birthday and Petunia was not happy. She hung up the phone in the hall and turned to Vernon with a sour expression on her face; apparently Mrs. Figg had broken her leg and couldn't watch Harry. After exasperatingly vapid suggestions from Petunia, extensive false blubbering from Dudley, and not-so-subtle threats from Vernon, Harry was on his way to the London Zoo for the first time. He was squished against the car door by Dudley's girth, in a comic attempt to make space for the small, rake like, rat faced Piers Polkiss. But Harry couldn't care less about the discomfort of the trip: There were snakes at the zoo.
Harry had the best morning he'd ever had outside his own head. After all, visiting his parents, who shared love and happy times with him, was far better than being around the hateful Dursleys. He got a lemon pop at the front gate, got to see a gorilla that could be related to Dudley, and got to finish Dudley's ice cream when the gorilla in training threw a fit, demanding a bigger one.
As they entered the reptile house Harry dropped back a few metres to avoid the Dursleys and Polkiss. Years ago when weeding Petunia's garden, Harry had found a garden snake and discovered his Parseltongue abilities. Befriending the reptile lead to a curiosity about snakes and he had before long become something of an expert on the subject, even if he shared his knowledge with practically no one. Today was an opportunity to talk to the rare, foreign snakes the zoo housed. Glancing around the corner, Harry saw the Dursleys harassing the Brazilian Boa Constrictor, and ducked around the corner.
The sign on the enclosure read "World's Deadliest Snake." Harry smiled, this looked promising. Another sign identified the inhabitant as a female Black Mamba. Harry peeked around the corner again, noting the Dursleys had only moved down two exhibits, and turned his attention to the case before him. Searching briefly, he located the scaly inhabitant, and blinked. This snake was not black, she's grey; a beautiful pearly iridescent grey, but grey nonetheless.
Shooting another look at the Dursleys, Harry leaned close to the glass and hissed, "Excuse me, Miss Mamba? I was wondering why you're called a Black Mamba when your scales are a lovely grey."
She seemed surprised at the question, cocking her head to the side as if appraising him. Finally she raised her head to Harry's eye level and opened her mouth wide, revealing an inky midnight black interior. Harry's eyebrows rose and he smiled. Glancing once more at his 'relations' he leaned close again, "Ah, well that explains it. You're quite beautiful, if I may say so."
She lowered her head to the side, looking demurely embarrassed. With one final peek at the Dursleys, Harry placed a hand against the glass and whispered to her, "Would you like to come home with me?"
Harry hadn't realized that snakes could look shocked but, after a moment, she composed herself and nodded. Harry turned his thoughts inwards, "How should I go about this?" he asked his parents.
"Concentrate on the glass," Lily instructed, "Focus on every detail. Now, place your hand upon it and make it disappear. Harness your magic, and send it in to glass."
Harry followed her directions and, with encouragement, vanished the glass of the enclosure. The Black Mamba eagerly slithered her way on to Harry's hand and then coiled herself inside one of his over-large pockets. Turning his attention back to the exhibit, concentration and desire to replace the glass pays off. Sweat dripped down his brow at the effort involved but the pane of glass is back to normal. Stepping away from the display, he rounded the corner and slammed, or rather squished, into the rotund gut of Vernon Dursley. His uncle grabbed his upper arm in a vice-like grip and leaned in close, "If you don't keep up with us, boy, you'll be spending the trip home in the trunk." He snarled as his grip tightened to bruising strength. The corpulent swine almost hurled Harry back several paces before thundering to the exit door of the reptile house.
Harry followed after him, wondering if a trip in the trunk would be such a bad thing. It would certainly make it easier to keep his passenger hidden, especially sharing a backseat with Dudley and his crony. "Don't provoke him into punishing you for something you can prevent." James' voice intoned, "He may do more than his threat and it's not worth it." Harry nodded imperceptibly, knowing that his parents would feel his acquiescence. So, once they were back in the car, he shifted his position in the backseat so that his passenger ended up on his lap and under his forearms, his shoulders squished between the door panel and Dudley's girth.
{O.o}
Back at the house, Harry immediately went to his cupboard, pulled his new friend from his pocket, and plopped down on his rickety cot. Holding her up, he saw how truly beautiful she was. Almost a metre and a half with iridescent grey scales on her back and creamy yellow scales on her belly, coal grey eyes, and of course her jet black mouth and tongue. He smiled at her as she twined herself around his raised hands, making herself comfortable. Looking to Harry she hissed, "Thank you for releasing me from that prison. I know the humans there mean well, but I was not meant to be kept in a box. Besides which they kept stealing my eggs."
Harry blinked in surprise, "You've laid eggs? They must have a male there too then, should we have tried to get him out too, or any of your babies?"
She shook her head from side to side in obvious negation, and took a look around the small cupboard and its bare wood walls, "My last clutch of young have since grown and been taken to other such prisons, and the male was also from a different prison, I was the only one of my breed there."
Harry nodded to her, thinking that she was right to call the zoo a prison, and turned his thoughts inwards, "Well, I'm glad we got her out then, she shouldn't have to live like that. I only wish we could do the same for the other snakes and animals that are unhappy there."
"We know how you feel Harry, dear." Lily said, "But, unfortunately, we can't save everyone. This is important for you especially to know, sometimes there will be people, creatures, or animals that you cannot save or help, much as you would want to, and it won't be your fault should that happen, understand?"
Harry nodded, "I think so, thanks Mum, Dad." He sighed deeply, "So, what should we name her?"
"What do you think about Arc-en-ciel?" James asked, "Its French for rainbow, kind of a nod to her iridescence."
Harry nodded again and turned his thoughts outward again, "Would you like me to call you Arc-en-ciel, it means rainbow?"
She thought for a moment then nodded, "I'd like that. What should I call you?"
Harry laughed, "Sorry, my name is Harry."
She cocked her head to the side, "And what of those within you, the ones you were speaking to a moment ago?"
Harry gaped at her, "How do you know about them?"
"Your eyes get vacant when you talk to them, easy enough to detect in this little light and your eyes flicker when a different one starts talking. Am I right in guessing there are only two of them?" She asked with an amused hiss.
Harry nodded dumbly, "Yes, they are my parents. They were killed when I was young and their spirits live inside me."
"That's good," she said nodding, "reptiles in general don't really have a family structure; once our young hatch they are on their own. But I have learned of human families by observing those that came to my prison. Human young need their parents, I am happy that you still have yours in some form."
Harry smiled broadly at her, "Arc-en-ciel, I think this is the beginnings of a wonderful friendship." He said, remembering the line from an old movie he'd never seen, only ever heard through the door of the cupboard under the stairs.
A/N: Reviews are appreciated and help to flesh out the story more; any constructive comments, requests, or critiques are welcome and encouraged. However, derogatory flames and comments along the lines of "you're writing/story sucks" are rude, childish, and betray the low I.Q. level of the commenter. If you don't enjoy the story there are exactly 455,980 (as of this posting) other Harry Potter stories on this website, read one of them.