Everyone, thank you to those who read my story and have favorited/followed me. Just in the first six hours I got 47 views in twelve different countries and 3 favorites and follows. I just feel so tickled pink right now…it's my first chapter in my very first published story. I don't know if that's normal or not, but I have a feeling that as I post more stories, I will find out. For now, don't tell me. Let me bask in happiness, even if it's really not that impressive. Anyways, this will be the only author's note I make, unless some of you want to hear from me again. For those who don't like author's notes, I'm sorry for posting this one, but I felt like I needed to celebrate. Speaking of which, I'm posting the second chapter within a day of the first. I don't know how regular updates will be, so just take it and run with it. So, on with the story!
When Harry woke up that morning, light was flooding under the stairs. He sat up quickly, worried about having forgotten to cook breakfast that morning for his relatives, only to stop, realizing something was out of place. In fact, several somethings were out of place.
The first, and the one that had Harry in a flurry, was that the house was silent. Usually, Dudley snored so loudly that Harry could hear it from under the stairs. That, and the fact that the light flooding under the stairs signified that it was late morning, and the Dursleys should have gotten him up by now, and punished him for daring to sleep in.
The next concerning thing was that Harry could see. For as long as he could remember, Harry had to wear these terribly ugly glasses, with bent frames and old-fashioned circular lenses. They didn't match his prescription, whatever it was, as he had never been to the doctor, but they cured enough of his near-sightedness that he could function regularly. Right now, though, his glasses were not resting on his little button nose, and yet, he could see far more clearly than he had ever seen before. What concerned him, though, were the splatters of blood and some sort of clear fluid that was all around him.
The next most pressing thing was that Harry wasn't in any pain. Usually, Harry felt some sort of pain. Whether it be from a beating given to him by Uncle Vernon, or from an empty stomach due to the Dursleys not giving him enough food. Most recently, however, the pain had been coming from his back, but Harry could no longer feel the burning, itchy pain associated with those long strips. He unconsciously raised a hand to try and feel his back, but when his arm came into view, he froze.
His arm, which just yesterday had been almost unhealthily thin, had filled out a little. Decorating his arm were swirls of dark green vine-like markings that started at his fingertip and spread all the way up his arm under his shirt where he lost sight of it. However, something out of the corner of his eye had caught his attention.
He saw a green, sheer shape that seemed to be behind him, and now that he noticed, there seemed to be a slight weight coming from his upper back. With excitement, tinged with just a little bit of nervousness, Harry crawled to his cupboard door to go to the bathroom, but was impeded by the locks on it. It seemed that Uncle Vernon had locked Harry in his cupboard.
Harry banged on the door, but forgot his new strength from a few days ago so the door splintered and flew off of its hinges. He panicked for a few seconds, until Harry realized that no sounds could be heard. Cautiously, Harry poked his head out of the cupboard, then crawled the rest of the way out when he realized the coast was clear.
Peeking out the window, Harry was relieved to see that his Uncle's car was gone even though it was a Saturday. That meant that his relatives were out doing something. Well, whatever reason, Harry was glad for this uninterrupted time to look at himself in the mirror.
Harry then proceeded to run to the bathroom, getting even more excited when he felt something brush the doorframe of the bathroom. He ripped of the remains of his shirt, which he just now realized was shredded. What he saw in the mirror took his breath away.
All of Harry's skin was unblemished. Where his scars once laid were silvery patches of skin that seemed to compliment his hair, which now was long enough to brush the small of his back. His eyes, which before could be described as big, were just barely inhumanely large, taking up the majority of his face. His lips were now plump and red, giving a permanent pouting expression to his face.
The sharp angles of Harry's body from hunger had filled out, giving him a slender, healthy-looking tone. His hips were slightly rounded, and his waist had drawn in slightly, giving him an even more feminine appearance than he already had. His butt had swelled a little, and was now visibly perky even under his shorts. He now stood a little over three feet, shorter than his three-and-a-half that he was sure he had been the day before.
Those green markings that he had noticed earlier were all over his body. They started at his cheekbones, which were a little higher than they had been before. The lines swirled under his eyes and down his cheeks to the sides of his neck where they joined a large collar of vines already there. There was a wisp of vines over both of his collarbones, just floating there. The next sets were the ones on his arms, where another ring circled his biceps and had a long strip run down the back side of his arm before twisting around to run along the side of his hand and end at the very tip of his pinky finger.
There was a set of vines that danced along his hips, joining in the front while dipping low down his groin, fading into nothing the further down they got. That set also joined I the back, except this time they joined along his spine while going upwards before joining with the others at his neck along his hairline.
The last set was yet another ring around his upper thighs that Harry had to lift his shorts to see with vines trailing down the outside of his legs all the way down to the tip of his pinky toe. All of the vines were gently swaying, with a few flicks here and there from the very tips of some of the vines.
All-in-all, Harry had one word to describe his current predicament.
Girly.
Yes, Harry was indeed so feminine looking that he seriously considered his true gender for a moment; at least, until he looked down his waistband just to make sure. Yep, Harry was still a boy.
Now that the initial inspection was over, Harry looked at the most distinguishing detail in the mirror; his wings.
Floating a few feet outwards from his back were two pairs of green wings that looked like they belonged on a giant green dragonfly. They erupted from two slits in his upper back where the two rashes were. Right near his skin, their color was a deep, glistening emerald green, just like his eyes, and faded to a teal then clear at the very ends.
Harry had turned into a giant fairy.
He just stood there, staring at the mirror, for what felt like hours, the words running through his head.
I'm a fairy.
I'm a fairy!
I'M A FAIRY!
Eventually, the words clicked and Harry managed to wrench his mind back to the present. Now, as stated before, Harry was a curious child with a thirst for knowledge, so his next thought was to grab his notebook and write down all the questions that rushed through his head now that it wasn't bogged down.
Only after the flood had calmed did Harry realize that there was a problem. First, he looked unnatural. Even without the wings, Harry's features were slightly alien in nature and not normal in any part of the world. How was he going to blend in with other people? For the record, what was he going to do about his relatives and their vendetta against anything "freakish?" If they came home to see him looking like this, they were probably going to kill him. So, in order to stay alive, he needed to get out of that house.
The first order of business was to find Stripe. It was already late, past 10 if the clock on the wall was to be believed, so he was probably worried about him.
Once outside, Harry was surprised to see Stripe already there, draped across the wooden railing on the back porch. He looked ecstatic, and started talking as soon as he saw Harry.
"Ssso you weren't entirely human in the firssst place, were you? I knew asss sssoon asss thossse woundsss on your ssspine that you were ssspecial, but thisss ssspecial? I could feel the ssstrength of your transssformation from the yard. You and I are going to go far, hatchling."
Harry was confused, and said as much.
"What do you mean by 'feel the transformation'? All I know was that I woke up looking like a bug? Can you explain to me what is going on? I knew I was fully human a week ago, but now, I'm not. What is happening to me?"
"Hatchling," Stripe replied. "I have heard from the other sssnakesss that there are more than jussst humansss out there. There are humanoid creaturesss too. Sssome ssspeak of the Veela in France, or the Dragonoidsss in Aussstralia, and of their ssseemingly human appearance, but non-human abilitiesss and traitsss. There are timesss where the Veela, for example, mate with humansss, and their offssspring are human until the day when their otherworldly blood awakensss. I liken it to your transssformation lassst night."
He cleared his throat, then spoke again.
"I sussspect that, whatever you are, came from a long-buried trait in one of your parentsss. However, sssomething about you is ssso ssspecial that it not only sssomehow awakened after yearsss of ressst, but did it while you were but a hatchling. Unlike thossse half or quarter Veelasss, I sssuspect you to be fully…whatever you are."
While thinking about Stripe's words, Harry absentmindedly replied, "I've just been calling myself a fairy."
Stripe looked him over, then nodded in approval. "While mossst likely not the whole picture, you do ssseem to carry traitsss from that race, or, at leassst, what we think that race hasss. Ssso, for now, it'll do."
Harry nodded as well, but then a thought hit him.
"Wait a second! You forgot to tell me about the sensing thing!"
"Oh that'sss right…" replied the snake. "I am like you, in a way, you could sssuggessst. One of my ancessstorsss was a runessspoor, a three-headed magical sssnake. While I do not have three headsss, or asss potent venom, I have enough magic in me to form bondsss with wizardsss. Lassst night, you releasssed ssso much magical energy that I bonded with you. Though, it'sss not a true Familiar bond, more like a father/ssson bond. Apparently, your magic ssseesss me asss your father, and appointed me asss sssuch."
Harry froze, hardly daring to breathe. At that, Stripe seemed to grow nervous, and his coils tightened. He looked down, then glanced back up at Harry, not meeting his eyes.
"Of courssse, that'sss only if you want me. I underssstand that I can be a bit of a nag when it comesss to training, but I wanted you to excel. I want my hatchling, I mean, you to be the bessst you can be, and…"
Stripe was cut off when Harry unfroze and lunged at him, crying. He grabbed as much of Stripe's coiled body as his arms could hold, and bawled into his smooth skin. It was all Stripe could do to cuddle and soothe the poor boy.
Eventually, Harry managed to stop crying, and whispered, "I accept."
With that, something not quite tangible snapped into place, and now Harry could feel the bond that Stripe had said existed. The two of them just took a moment to bask in the warmth the bond provided, before Stripe seemed to regain himself.
"Now, I would love to sssit here with you all day, but we have thingsss to do. Basssed on what you tell me about your relativesss," Stripe seemed to spit that word, "you are in danger if they catch you looking like that. Ssspeaking of which, why are you not cleaned up?"
Harry looked down at himself, only just now realizing that he wasn't wearing a shirt and that there was dried blood and other fluids speckling his body.
"I'm sorry, pa…Stripe. I just forgot about it in the excitement."
"He didn't seem satisfied, but let it go for now.
"Well, either way, you need to get cleaned up. After that, we need to get packed up. I will not let a hatchling of mine sssuffer in sssuch a hovel. We will be leaving. Now, hurry up and get cleaned. Oh, and don't forget a bag to ssstore your thingsss in."
Harry, with a new spot warmed up in his heart at the knowledge that someone cared about his health, went into the bathroom to shower and get dressed.
The problem came when Harry went to try and find clothes to wear. Dudley's clothes were too big on his previously taller frame, and now Harry was practically swimming in them. Plus, he really didn't want to wear something like them anyways. So, where could he get clothes?
The answer came to him as he passed his Aunt and Uncle's room on the way out of the shower, still wrapped in a large, fluffy towel. The only one small enough to have clothes that didn't drown him was…Aunt Petunia.
Harry steeled his nerves and walked into their bedroom, heading straight for the closet. Inside, all of Aunt Petunia's dresses were hanging in neat, orderly lines. But, it wasn't those Harry was after, but the large trunk in the very back. One day, Aunt Petunia had made him organize her closet, and it was in that chest that Harry knew contained clothes from her childhood.
What Harry wanted was a pair of pants, but unfortunately, Aunt Petunia was all too fond of fluffy dresses in her youth. Resigned, he picked out the least obtrusive one, and one that would accommodate his wings. It was knee length, with a neck strap instead of sleeves, making it easy to pull up under his wings, then tie off around his neck, leaving his peachy shoulders bare to the world. The dress was colored a mint green, with white crinoline under the skirt making it just a bit poofy. There was a dark green ribbon wrapped around his middle, with a bow in the back. Lastly, there were some dark green flowers embroidered on the hem. Harry also pulled on a pair of brown leggings to go under the dress. He wasn't quite prepared enough to go without some kind of covering for his lower half.
Harry found a pair of knee-high white boots that, although made for style instead of functionality, would be better for protection than the sandals the rest of the trunk offered. Thinking ahead, Harry grabbed a few extra dresses, just in case he wasn't able to buy anything else for a while. Also, while he was at it, Harry snatched the cash his Uncle kept for emergencies, a hefty sum around 5,000 pounds.
Running to Dudley's room, Harry found a brown backpack that Dudley had never even touched and stuffed the dresses in, then tucked the cash in the outside pocket. He also added Dudley's allowance, which was around 150 pounds, and closed the bag.
Harry padded downstairs to the kitchen, and saw Stripe curled up on the floor waiting for him.
"Hatchling, you need to get sssome food together for our journey. I may be able to hunt for myssself, but you are too sssmall to be able to do ssso yet. Pack food that will not ssspoil ssso it may lassst you for a while."
Stripe then turned away, froze, then did a double-take at the picture Harry made standing there in a dress and tights. The scene was a picture of innocence, with Harry lightly blushing, making the scene all the sweeter. He looked so innocent, like a fairy that walked out of a children's book. Stripe actually had to shake his head to snap himself out of the stupor Harry had pushed him into.
"Hatchling, you are ssso beautiful. You make me ssso proud of you, and I jussst know that you'll be sssomething ssspecial one day, and you'll go far."
There was a moment of comfortable silence, then Harry kicked himself into gear again.
He spent the next ten minutes gathering canned foods and bottles of water from the cabinets and the pantry, stuffing as much as he could fit into the bag. Harry didn't worry about how heavy the bag was; with his new strength the weight was negligent. It was one in the afternoon by the time the both of them had finished packing up.
"Alright hatchling, it'sss time for the final part of our essscape. It'sss time to learn how to fly."
"I don't know about that," Harry said, suddenly very nervous. "I'm scared. What if I fall?"
"It'll be ok, little one. I'll be right here with you," Stripe replied.
Harry strapped the backpack across his chest so his wings weren't restrained, then held it tight with his arms. Stripe slithered up his body and draped around his neck; loose, but secure.
"Are you ready to fly?"
Harry straightened his shoulders and strengthened his resolve. This was it, the moment of truth. To be honest, Harry was terrified of this part of the plan. His wings looked so fragile, like the slightest touch would rip them. But when he focused on them, he could feel a light breeze brush across them, proving that they were super sensitive. There was an underlying strength to them though, something not noticeable at first.
Harry let go of the bag across his chest with one arm and reached back to touch one of the wings. It was smooth, feeling almost like satin. However, the sensation was deceiving, for when he pushed it, they solidified and became a sturdy mass, giving a sense of safety to Harry.
That one brief touch gave Harry enough strength to really try.
Honestly, it was easier than expected. All that Harry needed to do was focus on what he wanted his wings to do, and let the light wind he could feel lift him up.
Harry rose into the sky, his wings holding both he and his baggage as if he weighed nothing. He turned to face the direction they needed to go and started to fly away.
"We'll be in London in a few hoursss at this pace," said Stripe.
"Why are we going to London in the first place, Pa-Stripe?" asked Harry.
"Other sssnakes tell me that isss where the major wizarding ssshopping center is. You need sssuppliesss ssso you can learn one part of your magic, and they may have tomesss that can tell usss what you are. Alssso, there isss a bank that may have money in it left by your ancessstors."
"You mean I will finally know who I am?"
"Yesss, hatchling. Although, I do have a quessstion. What were you about to call me earlier? You alssso almossst called me it earlier."
Harry looked away, a light blush on his face.
"Is it alright to call you Papa? I know we just bonded today, but I want-I really want…"
"Yesss, hatchling, you can call me Papa. In exchange, you will be my bambino, my hatchling, my child."
With warm feelings in their hearts, they flew away to a hopefully better life with their future laid out before them.
