Project Apophis
Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Recommended Reads: Harry Potter and the Hermetic Arts, Harry Potter and the Physical Adept and Harry Potter and the Runecraft of the Norns by HaikenEdge, Trickshot and Bonded by JustBored21, Ignore the Dementor by NinjaPandaScholar, Death Makes Equal, The Necromancer and The Darkening Of Your Soul by MaeglinYedi, Seventh Horcrux by Emerald Ashes, Green Eyed Beast by MrWriterWriter, Shrinking Solution by unquenchable69, Weres Harry? By DobbyElfLord, Kill me if you can and The Overpowered Gamer by PercyPendragon3, Harry Is A Dragon, And That's Okay by Saphroneth, Core Threads by theaceoffire and The Thief of Hogwarts by bluminous8
Key Pairing: Harry/Rhea
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mental Speech'
/Parseltongue/
Review Answers:
Stormshadow13: I hope you enjoy all my crazy feast has to offer;
Jostanos: Especially later, when Harry…ah! Keep reading to find out, but I think you can guess;
D1n0s: Aww, I appreciate the compliment, my friend;
WhiteElfElder: You mean Harry Is A Dragon, And That's Okay by the FFN member Saphroneth: yeah, it's on my recommended reads for this story and that's partially why;
On the one hand, Harry knew he should be happy that he was being taken away from the Dursleys, by someone who, apparently, was willing to shell out a lot of money to get him, and clearly wanted him to be there too.
But, on the other hand, he still had that awkward feeling in the pit of his belly…
Or maybe, he was just hungry, who knows?
Chapter 2: Table for One, Harry?
Soon, Little Whinging was nothing more than a blip in the rear-view mirror, but that didn't stop Harry from constantly looking to his right, where the mysterious Maître'D – or Mr Smith, as Harry knew him at the time – kept his eyes fixed on the road.
He didn't even seem to notice Harry looking around, taking in the sights of the main road out of Little Whinging and through Surrey. He didn't seem concerned when the boy pushed his face against the window, admiring the seemingly-normal sights of sheep, cows, horses and, at one point, even a steam train passing by the window as they drove past farmlands and out into the countryside. He didn't even seem too bothered by the fact that Harry was wearing a smile bigger than all of Creation when, as they started picking up signs indicating they were leaving Surrey's borders, it finally hit him that he was, indeed, free of the Dursleys forever.
No more chores.
No more beatings.
No more Freak name or anything similar to it.
No more cupboards – well, he hoped so, anyway.
And, assuming Mr Smith wasn't like the Dursleys, also no more…
Suddenly, as Harry considered how he would no longer be starved and forced to eat rotten scraps, he blushed suddenly when his belly let out a demanding rumble, reminding the five-year-old that all he'd had to eat that morning was the loose spring off of his mattress. But here, in this fancy car, with his mysterious saviour, there weren't any loose springs, or nails, or maybe even anything at all.
After all, Mr Smith hadn't said anything about what they were doing, or why he'd done any of this.
So maybe…
"Harry."
Suddenly, Harry jumped as Mr Smith said his name, his sibilant voice soft, but caring as he kept his eyes focused on the road, before he smiled thinly as he asked, "Hungry?"
"Uh…y-y-y-yes, sir," said Harry, blushing again as Mr Smith reached over, without taking his eyes off the road, and opened the glove compartment.
To Harry's surprise, a small toolbox's equivalent of nails, screws, nuts, bolts and even a few small screwdrivers tumbled out onto the flap, earning a surprised look from Harry as he looked from the metallic bits and bobs to the man sat next to him.
As though he sought to add to Harry's surprise, Mr Smith then snorted amusingly as he remarked, "Now, let's not play games, young one: I know that you know you're not like other little boys out there. I also know that you know what you did a couple of days ago and I know that, even now, a part of you is looking at these little knickknacks and you're thinking…yummy…am I right?"
"Uh…" said Harry, before he was cut off when his belly rumbled again.
And, again, Mr Smith chuckled wryly as he told Harry, "Go on, Harry; eat. Don't worry; my attention is solely focused on this road, so you don't need to be ashamed that I might suddenly decide to watch you. And, please, my little friend: have all you can eat; scoff the lot until that little tummy of yours swells up like a balloon…oh, but if there's anything you feel, inside of you, which you can't eat, can you do me a favour and let me know?"
"Uh…o…okay," said Harry, taking some small screws, as well as a couple of bolts, before he began popping them into his mouth like he was chowing down on popcorn.
To his delight, and surprise, the metallic objects were delicious!
Just feeling them roll over his tongue made his mouth water and his belly rumble even louder, reminding Harry of just how hungry he was; even better, or perhaps weirder, was how, as he ate one small piece after the other, Harry noticed – in a small way – that he didn't even need to chew them up. Instead, he put them in his mouth and, like a bird, or maybe even a snake, he swallowed the objects whole, actually able to feel them sliding down his throat until they landed with a soft, if not ticklish bump in his belly.
Soon, Harry was chowing down on all the objects that Mr Smith gave to him and, to his surprise, but also relief, he was able to eat everything off of his makeshift plate, even the screwdrivers, which didn't even choke him when he swallowed their larger handles whole before he got to taste and savour the feeling of the heads of the screwdrivers joining the rest of the toolkit in his tummy.
Eventually, to Harry's surprise, he found the last of the objects passing over his teeth and past his gums, before, look out tummy, here it comes.
With a soft gulp, and a lick of his lips, Harry closed the glovebox before he leaned back and rubbed his belly, which, to his surprise, did feel like he was finally, actually, gratefully, full and well-fed for the first time in his life.
"Well done."
Harry looked to Mr Smith, who seemed to be smiling proudly – a sensation Harry was not used to feeling, at all – as he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow before he finally looked to Harry as he asked, "So, are you still hungry?"
"I…I don't think so, sir…" said Harry, before his blush returned when, all of a sudden, a loud, wet, but surprisingly-minty burp erupted from the pit of his belly, making Harry's face redden like beetroot as he tried to bury himself away.
And yet, all Mr Smith did was reach over and pat his stomach before he turned Harry's head to face him.
"You know, when I was your age, I was told that a burp as big as that one was a way of your tummy saying thank you for a good meal; guess that's why I never excuse myself when I burp, eh, son?"
Harry couldn't resist laughing, which made him feel really good inside.
And, judging by the proud manner that Mr Smith tousled Harry's hair before he returned his attention to the road – undoubtedly because they'd been caught in a traffic jam – he felt exactly the same way.
As Harry savoured the fullness of his belly, he gulped before he asked, "Mr Smith, sir?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Can I have a drink, please?"
"In the side-pocket on the door next to you," said Mr Smith, again without taking his eyes off of the road.
Sure enough, there was a bottle of cold water there; one that Harry drank down eagerly before, once the bottle was empty, he stifled another burp before he looked to Mr Smith.
This time, however, Harry asked him, "Do…do you want me to…"
"Do you think you can?"
When Harry nodded, Mr Smith gestured to him with one hand, "Then go ahead and have your dessert, Harry; and remember, if you can't manage it, let me know, okay?"
A minute later, another thankful message from Harry's tummy told Mr Smith that his ward had indeed managed it.
And whole too…
"Well done, Harry; now, what do you say we pull in at the next service station and I get you some chocolate, or a nice cake, as a reward?"
By the time they reached where they were going, Harry James Potter had well-and-truly eaten like a king, feeling truly full – and, as his drooping eyes suggested even before they reached their destination, sleepy too – and loving how warm, happy and satisfied both he and his new friend-slash-guardian, Mr Smith, felt about the whole thing.
On the plus side, there wasn't any rubbish for Mr Smith to chuck away, even before they left said service station…
Wow, talk about fluffy, funny and freaking strange all at the same time: Harry's dined well for the first time ever, but how is he able to not only eat anything – or so it seems – but also swallow it all whole at the same time?
Just what is the secret to his insatiable appetite and his snake-like abilities…and can anything be off the menu for Harry?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: A new home, as well as a surprisingly-open-ended sort of lifestyle, awaits Harry, but, as with all things, there are rules to follow and a price to pay…but when the price comes due, Harry finds it a little hard to…stomach…
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