I woke up early on Dudley's birthday, excited that the past ten years of hell were over and the plot was finally picking up. Living life as a fictional character is all fun and games until you have to live through the time skips. I allowed myself a moment to smile as Aunt Petunia started rapping at the door. I dressed quickly while she was in the kitchen putting on the bacon, then opened the door to my cupboard just as she was marching back to bang on it some more. "Hello, Aunt Petunia!" I said, smiling a bit more than normal. I watched as she glanced over me uncomfortably, unhappy with my attitude but unable to do anything about it. I glanced at the table full of gifts in the corner on my way to the kitchen, mentally guessing what they were and if I'd want to sneak out and look at any of them at night.
Being a girl hadn't saved me from being Dudley's favorite punching bag, nor from the adult Dursleys raising their hands to me on occasion, but it had changed several other things. I was still small and skinny, and forced to wear Dudley's hand-me-downs, but at the very least I got my own underwear, always bought and handed over begrudgingly. It was amusing to wonder how they'd handle it when I started going through puberty.
My hair and eyes, on the other hand, were not the same as the original story. My hair was a dark auburn, somewhere between brown and red and kept in a choppy bob that Petunia viciously took shears to whenever it looked like I might start sporting a mullet. My eyes were hazel, and thus appeared as different colors from time to time, depending on the lighting and ambient surroundings. My father had had hazel eyes too, although mine contained more green than his had. I liked the idea of being a mix of the two of them, instead of the original story where Harry looked like dad but had mum's eyes. I was the both of them put together, not only James with a dash of Lily thrown in.
"Jane! Get over to the stove and take care of the bacon!" Aunt Petunia snapped, before going off to wake up her precious Dudders. That was another change. When anyone bothered to refer to me by name, they called me by my middle one instead of using Hyacinth. Dudley said it was a stupid name, and Uncle Vernon declared it was much too snobbish of a name for someone like me. Aunt Petunia claimed to agree with them, but I think she just didn't like the visceral reminder that I was her blood, the only thing left of her sister.
I finished cooking and served up breakfast, along with coffee and orange juice. As soon as Dudley came in I put my head down and started eating quickly but quietly, not wanting to get caught up in the infamous Presents Tantrum. The phone rang in the other room, and I knew it was Mrs. Figg calling to say her leg's been broken. I may have liked her cats, but I couldn't bring myself to feel sorry for her. She was Dumbledore's spy, and either didn't tell him about the abuse I faced, or did and believed him when he said that it didn't matter and I had to stay here. Neither option made it very easy to dredge up sympathy.
The Dursleys descended into bickering about what to do with me, as if I wasn't sitting five feet away from them. I was content to let them sit and squabble, knowing how it would all turn out.
Uncle Vernon of course warned me about any 'funny business,' although he didn't tell me not to disappear on them. In this life, my accidental magic had involved less shrinking of sweaters and teleporting onto roofs, instead manifesting into some kind of notice-me-not charms, causing people's eyes to slide over me without seeing me unless they were looking specifically for me. It allowed me to spend quite a lot of time at the library, and saved me from any wandering bullies who didn't have a particular target in mind.
The lemon ice pop was pretty good, and the zoo was quite enjoyable once I faded into the background, quietly tagging along after Piers and Dudley and dodging the occasional visitor who would have plowed right into me. And then finally, we came upon the reptile house.
I could hardly wait for Dudley to grow bored and shuffle away, eagerly moving to take his place. "Hullo," I said, a small smile lighting up my face. "Sorry about them."
It was the first enjoyable conversation I'd had since coming to live with the Dursleys, and I was having enough fun that I forgot to keep an eye out for Piers and Dudley, who ran up and shoved me out of the way before I could remember to brace myself. I was sent sprawling, and managed to pull myself together and look up just as my two tormentors leaned up against the glass, resting far more weight on it than they should have.
The glass didn't vanish. Instead it shattered,splitting into a million pieces as
Piers and Dudley fell face first into the wet enclosure. The noises they made when they realized my new friend was quite literally slithering over them to get out was something I will cherish for the rest of my life. The way they were thrashing around, it was a miracle they didn't get cut up by all the broken glass. I don't believe in miracles, though. I believe in intention. Piers and Dudley may have been dimwitted bullies, but they were still children. I wanted them terrified, not injured.
The boa constrictor offered me his thanks before going on his way, and I couldn't help but respond with a "good luck." I truly hoped he made it to Brazil.
As a bonus, no one thought to blame me for the glass shattering. I was still locked in my cupboard when I got home for talking to snakes, but no meals were withheld.
All in all, it was a very successful day, and I fell asleep with a smile on my face.