Hogwarts Forum (Challenges and Assignments)
Assignment #10 - Hagiology: Medieval Miracles
Task #2: Prompt: Write a story from an animal's POV
It is warm. The sun is hot, a baking circle in the great expanse of nebula that humans call the sky. Ezra knows of the sun and sky and circles. Ezra knows of warmth, the way it feels like liquid on their scales. Warmth is something to be savoured. The sun is something to be followed. The sky seeks them out every day, never closing its eyes.
A shout disrupts Ezra's sweet and deepening sleep. They open one eye and peer in the distance, seeing shapes and colours, seeing movements. Not too sharp, not too troubling. But disruptive all the same. Something storms towards them down the garden, away from the human-houses.
It is a boy. Ezra knows of boys. Boys are not kind to snakes, not always. They throw stones and hiss in their own way, crowing like smug birds in their lofty branches, yet to be brought low. They have a jeering call, sometimes. But this boy is small and thin, built like a bundle of twigs. He has glasses and bright green eyes, and his hair is black with a reddish gleam to it, where the sun hits it. He spots Ezra and lights up, creeping closer. He comes softly forward on his knees and whispers in the language of serpents.
"Hi," says the boy.
Boring. Unimaginative. Hardly a thrilling conversationalist. But it is rare to find someone who speaks the language of serpents, and even rarer to find someone who does not hide it out of shame or fear or some other useless two-footer feeling. Some snakes whisper about cruel boys and unkind eyes, about the descendant of Salazar, the heir, the serpent-speaker. Eskra has never met boys like that. They look at this boy, and see only kind things under his skin.
"Hello," says Ezra.
The boy brightens.
"That looks like a good spot to sunbathe. Mum says if I sunbathe out here I'll burn and get more freckles like her, which isn't fair because James gets all tanned. He's always running around with his shirt off. He's a giant show-off."
It is a good spot to sunbathe. The stone is flat and warm, and Ezra fits on top of it perfectly.
"We call it bassssking," says Ezra, sticking out their tongue, scenting the air.
The boy tips his head curiously. Ezra has looked at mice that way before, fascinated by the way they move, the way they scamper, the way their hearts thump so swiftly, bleakly unaware of their own end approaching. Ezra flattens a little more on the rock. It is fine and flattering to be looked at in such a way. Snakes are fascinating, after all, and Ezra is the most fascinating one of all.
"Basking," the boy repeats, sticking out his tongue too, trying to taste the air. "Like sharks? I wonder if sharks and snakes have anything in common. Besides being hungry, that is."
Ezra does not know of sharks. The boy tells Ezra everything, and the list of things to know grows longer. Suns, skies, circles, warmth, sharks, and small, curious boys. The talking carries on until the sun is a little fainter, and the air is a little cooler. The boy lounges in the grass, kicking his feet in the air, and rambles on and on. He seems lonely. Ezra listens. It isn't often that small boys want to spend their time talking to slow-blinking snakes instead of other small boys. So Ezra listens, because they think there must be a reason, and the reason might simply be that this boy is a serpent inside, and has yet to slough his old skin.
It is only when the boy's mother throws open the back door and hollers, in that human-loud way that only mothers can accomplish, that the boy stops talking. He sits up begrudgingly, ripping up handfuls of grass and tossing them in the sudden breeze.
"I should go in," the boy says, moody and sullen. "Mum will come out and drag me in by the ears if I'm late for tea."
"Tea?"
"Oh, it's—um. Food? Like, for eating."
Ezra dips their head. "Food is good. Delicioussss."
The boy laughs, not sounding frightened by the hunger in Ezra's tone. "Not when my mum's the one that cooks it." He stands and brushes off some of the grass. "Can I come back and see you soon? Will you be out here again?"
"I musssst hunt. But I shall return. This rock is good for ssssleeping." Ezra pauses, burrowing deep down for a glint of humour. "For basssking. Like the sharks."
"Okay," the boy says, grinning widely. "Next time, I'll tell you about something even cooler than sharks."
The boy turns away and runs towards the house, the big hulking mass of stone with glassy eyes and a cold exterior. Ezra knows of houses, though they have never wanted one. Just the grass and the cool earth and the warm stones. But the boy stops at the door and waves, still grinning widely, and Ezra thinks that even though they may not need or want those cold stone houses, the warmth of such a boy is certainly worth keeping around.
[Word Count: 823]