Zia was moving around the kitchen in the apartment, pulling ingredients from various cabinets to put dinner together. Tom was sitting at the kitchen table, watching the yellow snake twining itself in and out of his fingers. Zia glanced over at him.

"Tom, can you get the frying pan for me?" He waved his free hand at the cupboard and the door opened, then the frying pan sailed down from the highest shelf and came to rest on the counter next to her. This was a normal occurrence in the apartment, since the highest shelves were too tall for her to reach without a chair or reaching with precarious balance on tiptoe. Tom seemed to enjoy any opportunities she gave him to use his special skills, so she asked him for help often. "Did you figure out a name yet?" she asked him. He looked up, his plump little face turning towards her.

"Auntie," he said slowly, "You talk to her too. I know you do because I hear you at night. You already know, don't you?" She tried to hide a smile, but did not succeed. Tom's mouth quirked, mirroring hers.

"You caught me," she said, now pulling out mixing bowls and stirring spoons. "It's Honovi, right?" He nodded his affirmation. Then his forehead wrinkled into a frown as he looked at her.

"Why doesn't Honovi know her family?" he asked quietly. "She says she doesn't remember them." Zia looked at him, and she could tell he was really bothered by this. Putting down the measuring cup she was filling with flour, she crossed the kitchen and sat across from him.

"Tom, snake families work different from human families. You remember from your snake book how they are born from eggs, right?"

"Yes."

"Well when their moms are ready to lay the eggs, they find a nice hole, and they go in there and lay those eggs. But snake moms don't stay with the eggs, they leave after they lay the eggs. When the eggs hatch, the little baby snakes come out and learn how to fend for themselves," she explained.

"What about their fathers?" he asked.

"Their fathers don't know that their mothers are going to lay the eggs, snakes don't stay together," she said. Tom's frown deepened.

"Am I a snake auntie?" he whispered. She got up and crouched down next to him, looking into his eyes seriously.

"Tom, why would you think that?"

"My mother didn't stay with me, and my father didn't know, did he," he said. It was not a question. Zia scooped Tom up and set him on her lap. Honovi was still twined between his fingers, but her head was raised inquisitively, listening for the answer just as intently as Tom was.

"No sweetheart, your father didn't know. But your mother I am sure would have stayed with you if she had not died." He looked pained. She had already told him about his mother, but it was still hard for him to cope with the idea that she hadn't been able to stay alive for him. "But humans, we make families. I'm your family, aren't I?"

"You are," he replied.

"And Nana Mary and Papa Charlie, they may not be blood related to us, but aren't they your family?"

"Yes." Zia then turned her attention to the snake.

"And Honovi is family too, isn't she?" Zia spoke in Parseltongue. The snake turned its head to Tom, waiting for his answer.

"Yes she is," he said. Zia could tell that he was beginning to feel better.

"Families are all different Tom. Honovi is a snake, and we are humans, but there are things about everyone that are alike. Honovi's snake family may not have been around her, but we adopted her. Just like I adopted you. When people take care of each other and make each other happy, that is a kind of family, don't you think so?" she continued.

"I know so," he replied. His wrinkled forehead had relaxed and the frown was gone. He looked relieved, and she wondered how long he had been thinking about this. It pained her to think about how he would have felt in the orphanage, alone, asking himself these same questions but with nobody there for him. Then he looked up at her, and she could tell he was ready to ask another question. "Auntie, if you have special skills too, why don't you ever use them? Honovi said you had them, but you didn't even know. How did you even know I had them?" This was a question she knew would come up eventually, but she hadn't known it would be so soon. She had to lie again, and she wasn't sure how to do it, but she would try.

"Well your mother had special skills. Our whole family did, and all of our ancestors. I didn't spend very much time with them because nobody could see any special skills in me when I was your age. They sent me to live somewhere else most of the time," she told him. Tom's face crinkled back into a frown.

"Why would they do that?" he asked, clearly indignant for her.

"Do you know what another word for special skills is?" she asked him. He shook his head. "It's magic. Your mother's and my family didn't like people who can't do magic. People like Nana Mary and Papa Charlie." Tom's face grew more indignant.

"That's a bad reason to dislike somebody," he said firmly.

"Yes it is. A very bad reason," she agreed with him. "But there are some people who have magic who think that way. They think that they are better than people who can't do it. They even think that they are better than people who have magic that have parents who don't."

"Well they don't know Nana Mary and Papa Charlie," he said, as if that settled the matter. Zia smiled.

"No, they don't."

And they don't get to eat the crickets from Nana Mary's garden, Honovi added. Zia was surprised by the snake's remark, but pleased that it was backing her up.

"Speaking of eating, I should go finish making our dinner!" she said, and set Tom back onto his chair.

"Auntie, I like our family," he told her.

"I do too, Tom. We've got a good one," she replied.

That night, after making sure Tom was asleep Zia took Honovi out of her tank, and went to sit on the couch. The yellow snake twisted herself around Zia's hand, eyes on her.

"Honovi, how did you know I had magic when I had no idea? And why didn't they ever show up before?" The snake blinked.

I knew you had them when I first saw you through the glass of the tank. I can tell when a human can speak my language, and they can only do that if they can do magic. As for not showing up…I can't really say.

"Even now, though, the only thing I've ever done that was magical was talk to you."

The only thing you've ever tried was talking to me, Zia.

"I have no training."

Neither does Tom, and he manages it just fine. Why don't you try? The snake pointed with her tail to the book on the kitchen table; Zia had been reading about how snakes hatching out of their eggs to Tom that evening. Zia bit her lip and turned to face it, concentrating on it, willing it to move toward her. Nothing. She stared harder at it. Nothing. She frowned, focusing all her attention on it. Then, something.

Slowly, shakily, the book rose. Then just as slowly, just as shakily, it moved through the air, falling finally next to her.

Practice makes perfect.