A/N: Hiya guys. I decided to stay back here and continue writing because… you know… I felt motivated :D You know, as a rookie writer it takes me hours to get a storyline. . Anyways, my chapters are going to be very short. XD Don't get impatient please. ^^
loretta537—I don't think I'll finish it because, without reviews, and author never finishes anything…. Well that's fact of the reason anyway. :P It's because it's, well, my *first story!* /hopes you understand :)
pihead08—That's for you, my pi-headed friend, to wait and see. ;)
Chapter 1
Harry lay, huddled, in a corner of the staircase cupboard, his breath coming in uneven wheezes, heart beats threateningly slow. Harry tried to nurse his broken bones, tears falling unstoppably from his green eyes. Why did they hate him so much? Harry barely suppressed a wail. It wasn't fair, Dudders got everything he wanted, as long as it was enjoyable. Harry, on the other hand, got pain. It was weak, but as if any of the other kids had experienced this. Besides, anything he did strongly was either ignored or pushed off by Dudley and his slowly-forming gang.
"I… want… to… leave!" Harry managed to croak weakly, squeezing his eyes shut. Somehow he managed to go to sleep, in spite of the throbbing pain.
Harry awoke with a start; he could barely stop his body when he sat up impulsively. Suddenly he froze. Did he just… move without pain? Heart pounding like an old Indian drum and strong breath leaving him in gasps, Harry lift his hand and bent it. It didn't hurt! With the first broad smile since he was five (the age where he was not yet mistreated, being hopelessly innocent), Harry felt exhilarated. Harry forced himself to relax, and took the time to look over his surroundings. After all, he didn't think he was in his cupboard. Yup, he knew that the instant his hand was deep inside a crocodile's jaws.
"ARRRRRRGH!" Harry shrieked, jerking it out and beginning to stand up to enable him to leg it. What in the blazes was happening?
"Hold it!" the crocodile snapped, lashing its snout back and forth in the air with what seemed like agitation. It was at least 1.3 metres long, with a smooth, cream-colored underbelly, and scales as thick and rugged as Uncle Vernon's bulky hand. Its scales were a foresty array of colours – a muddy brown, and a line of a darker shade of brown starting from the crocodile's head to its tail. To Harry's chagrin, he froze, staring at the reptile with terrified, yet wondrous, emerald eyes. The crocodile cleared his throat, meeting Harry's shocked gaze easily with his own dark stare. "Before ya hightail it, lis'en t' me first." Harry remained fearfully silent, though awed—the crocodile even had an accent! The bad thing was, he couldn't run or move in any way except for breathing and blinking, even though he really wanted to.
"Good!" the crocodile mumbled. "M' name's Rex, I'm a herbitarian." When 'Rex' spotted Harry's fearful face turned into an incredulous expression, the crocodile added pompously, "What! You don't see any vegies for crocs, do ya? And if a crocodile admitted to be a herbivore?" Rex shuddered. "Poor thing'd die of embarrassment. Oh, who're ye?" Rex added, as an afterthought.
Harry made a tiny squeak, slowly edging away. "No point leavin', I'm th' only one tha' knows the ins an' outs of this here terra," Rex commented casually. "Ye'll get so lost it'd take a few decades for anyone t' find ye." Harry came to an abrupt halt, paling dramatically, evidently torn between running and the thought of getting hopelessly lost. "I said, 'wus your name?'" 'Rex' repeated, appearing slightly annoyed.
"H-h-harry," Harry said in a hoarse, barely audible whisper.
"Harry, eh?" Rex chuckled—which only bewildered the 8-year-old even further. Harry, dazed, began to pinch himself along the arm, wincing at every burst of pain. He was sure that he was hallucinating; either that, or dreaming. Either way, he wanted it to stop. Sure, it had been kind of amusing at first, if a little shocking; now it was just creepy. A talking, laughing crocodile? Come on. "I'll tell ye something, Hardy—I mean Harry," Rex was chattering, "is' no' everyday a folk sees prey fall from the sky an' forgets that they're a herbitari— what're ye doin'?" He had noticed Harry's pinching fit.
"Uh… nothing," said Harry uncomfortably, hiding his thin arms behind his back. Hey, what do you know? His clothes were clean, no longer splattered with blood. He was pretty sure he had no bruises. And—wait, these weren't his clothes… Shrugging, Harry loosened his muscles. He was beginning to grow used to Rex. The reptile eyed him suspiciously but said nothing about it. Harry took the opportunity to ask questions and put in quickly, "How'd I get here? I'm pretty sure I was in my cupboard. Where is here?"
"Inna wha?" Rex said blankly. When Harry shook his head, dismissing it, Rex explained, "Ye fell from the sky. Pretty funny sight. Nearly ate ye before I 'membered I don' eat meat. So I thought I'd scare ye a bit." Here he gave a sheepish grin. Harry began to feel dizzy. Crocodiles had creepy smiles.
"A bit," Harry repeated sceptically.
"Righ'," Rex agreed, "We're in... a forest, somewhere. Hey, ye know full-well tha' crocs can't read maps."
"You can't?"
"Nup. While we're at this questioning part, would ye like to learn something... oh, educational?" Rex winked suggestively.
"Like what?" Harry asked blankly.
"Ye'll find out if ye say 'yes.'" Rex somehow managed to shrug. "Up ta ye."
"Okay, let's go."
"Yay!" Rex cheered. Harry froze - what was he getting into?
"Whoa," Harry slurred, staggering clumsily and falling on top of Rex, who didn't seem to mind for cruising along later. "8-year-old should never… ever… whupsy daisy!" He tripped over and sprawled on the ground.
"Gettin' drunk is bet'er then ye think," the crocodile agreed thickly. "Fe now, les have our hangover and ge' over wit' it." They all collapsed in a pile.
A/N: Hope you enjoy. :D Rex is copyrighted, of course, Harry is not.
