Betrayed then Needed
Chapter 3: Harsh Reality
When the man had first seen the boy in his snake shop, he wasn't very concerned. But when he came back with the venom and saw that boy hiss... converse with a snake, he knew that he could get a lot of money out of 'Jamie'.
After the man had locked the boy into the back room, he began to compose a letter to Jamie, or who he suspected was James Potter.
" Dear Valued Customer,
The boy you sent for your purchases speaks parseltounge. Since it indeed is a useful and near extinct language, I would like something of equal value for his freedom, or you might just get an arm back.
Thank you very much,
- ZJ
P.S.: I sent your other purchases by mail from the goodness of my heart."
Jonathan Znirethyls preferred to call himself a gentleman, after all, he was from an ancient pureblood family; even if he had been disowned after refusing to take the dark mark of Voldemort, known as You-know-who now because people were still scared of him. Even though it was ridiculous, it proved how much backbone the wizard world had lost over the years.
The man smiled, rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the gold, and sent the letter on its way.
~ four hours later ~
The man clapped his hands when he saw a large brown Great-horned owl deliver James' reply. He quickly went to the back-room, unlocked it and entered.
The boy was curled up in the corner and didn't raise his head. The man was not discouraged and said " Well, I sent Potter a letter asking for some gold in return for your freedom and here is his answ-"
" James will say no. After all, he has a perfect and Light family. The name is Harrison. I'm seven." the old man blinked, once, twice. Three times. That reply had been unexpected from the child... er... Harrison.
Frowning, the man said " Well, let's see then.
' ZJ,
I am thankful that you were the one to discover that curse instead of my perfect and Light family. I wish to have nothing to do with the Dark Arts, including Dark children. You can do whatever you want with him. Here are four gallons for your troubles.
Ever Light,
James Potter,
father of the boy-who-lived'."
" I told you so. My birthday's in july, the 31st to be exact, 12:50 pm. I can cook, read, write and hope that I may stay at this shop with the snakes." Harrison finally looked up.
With his jaw ajar, the man stared at him. The little boy with a controlled nest of jet-black hair, liquid emerald eyes and a strange scar in the shape of a lightning bolt was acting like the adult and him the... how old was the boy again... seven year old.
" Well... It could give me an advantage if I had someone to translate snake hisses to english... So I could pay you once a week, two to five gallons a week. That means that I will raise your pay every year by one whole gallon until you're eighteen. Then I'll pay you like a very valuable employee. Either yes or I'll dump you on the street. Got it? My name's Mr. Znirethyls to you and Jonathan to my friends." the man sighed in relief when Harrison nodded. Now there was no reason to feel guilty if the little guy died... Right?