Congratulations, you have stumbled upon a completely original plot of mine, or so I hope. I doubt the existence of other stories with this same foundation. Do tell me if you see some other person with this plot. I would really appreciate it.
Disclaimer: Ha. I wish Takahashi-sama and Rowling would give me the rights for these. Alas…
Key:
italics…thoughts
bold italics…Parseltongue
-"…"-…Mandarin
Chance of a Lifetime
By ShiroiRyu144
Chapter 1: Happenstance
Emerald green opened sleepily. Bones creaking, the thin boy rose and fumbled for his ever-necessary glasses. 'Where are they? I always leave them here…' The boy made a sound of triumph as the key to focused vision touched his hand. He swiftly put on the glasses and blinked owlishly though the large frames at the inky darkness of the room. Standing, he turned and opened the door to the hallway, shuffling out to another day of dreary existence, or nonexistence, per the wishes of one very surly uncle. Arriving at the kitchen with little trouble besides that one pesky door, he automatically reached into the refrigerator and withdrew a few eggs and a package of bacon. With a suppressed yawn, he started the morning routine, the smell of breakfast wafting up to the sleeping family above.
--
The phone slammed into its stand, a stout, blonde woman glaring at it angrily. "Mrs. Figg has broken her leg. I can't think of anyone who would be able to take him off our hands today."
A fat, blonde boy looked up from his third plate of bacon, placid expression morphing as his face scrunched up. "I…don't…want…him…t-to…come…" The blonde woman immediately rushed over to her distraught child, trying to stop the imminent tantrum.
"Can't I just stay here?" Hands clasped, the thinner boy in the corner of the kitchen suggested with an assumed tone of neutrality. His aunt and uncle wouldn't likely let him stay if he sounded like it would make him happy; it'd be nice to get a look at the television for once. At least he wouldn't have to see Mrs. Figgs' many cats until Dudley's next birthday; the crazy old lady always made him look through all her cat albums and her house smelled like cabbage. The aunt's head swiveled from Duddydums and glared at the pleading boy, before a large wail focused her attention back on Dudley.
"No, you may not. He'll destroy the house." The uncle cut in sharply, looking up from the newspaper briefly at his wailing child, the scrawny twit, and his wife, before stuffing a rather large piece of bacon into his mouth and chewing noisily.
"Please?"
"No." The aunt answered tensely, while fuming at the impudent boy. He always caused trouble, the ungrateful brat. The boy clamped his mouth shut at her tone of voice; it was best not to argue with the people who could decide his punishment.
The beefy man put down his newspaper, mind running sluggishly through the possibilities. There wasn't anyone to dump the boy on so they would have to leave him somewhere else. He'd wreck the house and the car if left on his own so…
The doorbell rang.
"Oh, they're already here!" The aunt patted her son on the back and moved quickly towards the entrance, smoothing down her blonde hair before she opened the door. Dudley's mask of sadness fell away as he glimpsed his friend, Piers Polkiss. Dudley's thin cousin shivered a little; Piers was a main member of Dudley's bullying group.
The uncle pulled his nephew roughly to the side. "You're coming with us to the zoo. But if there's any funny business, you're going to stay in the cupboard until Christmas. Got it?" The boy nodded mutely, before scurrying away to search quickly for more presentable clothes since the current outfit was four times too big for him.
--
The boy looked intently at the reptile. Compared to the snake, the boy had a great life. The snake must be very bored, stuck in a cage for so long with people goggling at it all the time. The snake moved, the pattern of the sliding coils mesmerizing the young boy. He moved closer.
"They're all the same." the snake commented, "day after day, the same thing." He flicked his tongue out as the boy jerked back slightly. Snakes could talk?
"Wha-?"
"You can speak." The snake was a bit taken aback. A curious toddler wandered up to the enclosure, waving pudgy hands and speaking clumsily to the snake. The cry of a mother rent through the quiet background noise, as a woman swiftly scooped the toddler up and took him from the "bad snake".
The thin boy ignored the snake's words and the mother's shriek and collected his wits; this snake was speaking so talking snakes couldn't be that uncommon. "What is your name…uh…, sir?" he asked with the manners that his relatives had enforced in the household. He vaguely wondered why the people next to him were shooting him strange glances; surely there wasn't anything wrong with talking to snakes, was there? Just like talking to yourself, he expected. Nevertheless, he lowered his voice.
The snake made a strange sound, as if it was hacking up a half-digested mouse. "You amuse me, child. You may call me Nuntiuss."
"Nuntius, sir, do you like being in the zoo?" He asked, wondering if the snake's life really was as bad as he imagined. Perhaps the zookeepers would let the animals out sometimes for exercise? It wasn't everyday that he could talk to someone who wouldn't hit him afterwards.
The snake repeated the hacking sound. "Being gawked at all day isn't my idea of fun. I wish to find the place of my ancestral homeland at times, where I should be."
"Oh…" Dudley cut off the boy, shoving him away from the barrier.
"Look at the snake! It's moving now!" Dudley's beam of delight changed into a mask of horror as the snake landed near his feet. A clamor rose up, everyone trying to stay away from the snake; it was dangerous apparently, a fact that the boy hadn't noticed when having a conversation with the creature. The boy crept toward the snake.
"Are you going to your homeland now?" The crowd watched the child in frozen fear.
The snake nodded. "Thanks for the help, child." The boy stared at the Nuntius as the snake slithered away.
--
"Never do that again!" A furious guardian roared at the undernourished child, clenching a white fist tightly. The lights in the kitchen, far from providing a natural warmth, only caused all the potential shadowed hiding places to disappear.
"I'm sorry!" the boy squeaked, eyes focused on the raised hand. He imagined the hurtful contact that the hand could bring all too well. His only hope was getting sent to his cupboard and away from this vengeful god.
"Not sorry enough!" Vernon's hand met trembling flesh. A brilliant flash of pain rushed through the boy's nerves, as he fell backwards from the blow into the wall. All those years of trying to work the queerness out of the boy, and he starts talking to snakes! The towering man ignored the audible thud of the boy's head against the cheerful, yellow-papered wall. The boy slumped against the wall, all protest knocked out of him.
'Help…I wish I wasn't here.' With a flash of green, the boy disappeared.
--
Emerald green opened hazily to a bright light. Wincing at the onslaught, the boy wondered vaguely why his Aunt had installed a floodlight in his cupboard. Perhaps she wanted to rid him of his sight for good? Blinking quickly, and focusing on the ground, the boy pushed himself off the ground and stood up shakily. 'This isn't my cupboard…' The boy's sluggish mind, dazed by the light and dizziness, stirred sleepily at the strange thought. He stumbled a few steps forward before his mind finally registered the unconscious declaration. "I'm not at home." His mind recalled a brilliant flash of green light followed by a complete blackout. Dismissing his foggy memory, he embraced the freedom from his relatives with a brilliant smile. A new bounce in his step, he headed off in a random direction in the strange land.
--
It was a very hungry and thirsty boy that stepped into the grounds littered by many pools of water and bamboo poles. Blearily, emerald green latched onto the sight of plentiful water. Staggering to the nearest pool he dipped his hands in, reveling in the liquid cool before drinking from his hands. In haste, he moved closer to the pool, quickly partaking of the life-saving fluid. There was something filling about the water, tasting slightly salty. Leaning forward, he slipped into the water, its gentle movements soothing him. As he submerged, water filled his clothes and dragged him down. A wave of panic surfaced in the boy. With his last stores of energy, the youth resurfaced and draped onto the shore, relaxing in the deep sleep, forgetting the tingle that had been felt as his head disappeared under the reviving liquid.
--
A man dressed in a green military uniform entered the area of the springs and bamboo poles. Hand shielding his eyes from the setting sun, the man strode to his hut, seeking a warm mattress to sink into. Truly all was peaceful in the springs these days since the crazy people following the red-haired girl had stopped searching for a cure in the springs; supposedly swimming across the Sea of Japan had increased in difficulty for cats, piglets, and bulls. Gaze on the ground, his eyes caught on a mess of bright purple hair.
--
Red tinted purple met the ceiling, blinking rapidly in confusion. Surely this wasn't his cupboard, nor was it the wilderness of before. Raising a hand, the youth blocked out the sun's incoming glare and got up from the bed, automatically fumbling for the glasses. Blinking out the sleepiness, the youth stumbled out of the hut, searching for his benefactor, since this last memory was of lying in a pool of water. Still unstable, the youth collapsed in front of a pool, gazing into the water as hands automatically prepared to scoop up some liquid to water. The youth froze, staring at the violet blue hued hair of the shimmering reflection. Touching the water tentatively with a delicate digit, ripples ruffled the image's hair. The previous day was a total blank to the youth, and the innate strangeness of the purple–haired reflection only made fundamental questions more prominent. One must always start with the basics.
'Who am I?' The thought trudged slowly through the vast mires of a dazed brain. The response, instinctive as breathing, flashed back quickly. 'Harry Potter.' A stream of memories from the Dursleys surfaced with the declaration, ending with an image of a black-haired boy with a lightning scar on his head. The youth smiled. Yes, that was who he was.
'Harry Potter has BLACK hair; I am Xian Pu of the Amazons.' The hostile and arrogant tones rang in the youth's mind. Come to think of it, the reflection had a different hair color, the youth dazedly noted, mental fog finally fading away.
'But…I'm Harry!'
'Just look at yourself. I'm Xian Pu, proud warrior of the Amazon tribe!'
The youth glanced at his or her body. Blue-purple hair, bodily parts all there, a feminine chest, and the lack of significant appendages in the lower areas. Final conclusion: girl.[1] -I am Xian Pu?- The newly discovered female asked the air quizzically. Identity wasn't supposed to be confusing! She glared mutely at the pool, feeling vaguely uncomfortable in her own body.
-"Are you alright, young miss?"- A sudden voice sent the female scrambling for purchase on the slippery poolside. A hand snatched her arm quickly and kept Xian Pu from falling into another pool.
-"Tell me. Why do I have two mental images of myself?"- She questioned the military outfitted man who had lead her to firmer ground.
-"This is Jusenkyou, the Pools of Sorrow."- The man offered, assuming that the young Amazon would figure it out. Any child of China would know of the legends surrounding Jusenkyou. A sudden gasp confirmed his beliefs as the female gasped at the name. 'No…This can't be Jusenkyou! Have to get away…' The girl composed her features and began walking away at a rapid pace.
-"Wait, young miss!"- He reached her side and put a restraining arm on her.
-"Did I get cursed?"- She asked him, inwardly hoping that she hadn't gotten within 10 feet of any source of water inside the perimeters of the cursed springs. There were dire consequences when going to Jusenkyo. Why was she here anyway?
-"I'm sorry, young miss. I was away visiting my daughter, Plum; I couldn't warn you."- The guide sadly withdrew a kettle of warm water and quickly poured it on the girl. A slight tingle, almost overwhelmed by the soothing warmth of the kettle water, stimulated the girl's nerves. –"This is your original form."-
"Uh… why am I a boy now?" The boy said after checking for various body parts discretely. 'Ahhh! What will the elders say?' Loud wailing invaded his mind abruptly, and the boy slapped his hands on his ears to stop the terrible sound; the wailing continued as the man stood nearby, trying to decipher what the boy was saying. Those words didn't sound like anything he had ever heard. He couldn't identify it since it wasn't Taiwanese, Mandarin, Cantonese or even Japanese. The man scooped up the reserve pail of cold water and doused the youth again. The hands fell from the youth's ears, and she composed herself.
-"What is my true form, sir?"- She inwardly prayed fervently that this girl form was her true identity. The elders would never accept her back into the village if she was a male in disguise.
The guide reluctantly spoke in low tones. -"You were originally a boy, miss."- She collapsed, thinking of her village that she remembered for some reason; there was no way they'd accept Xian Pu, proud warrior of the Amazons, now.
--Author's Note --
One day I had a sudden random idea for a new story and this is what sprouted out. It has progressed since then and I'm working on typing it out. I've got the early plot in my head but it's very skeletal so anyone is welcome to comment or suggest. Any comments or suggestions will be taken into account and the ones who made them profusely thanked. It's really strange that the notebook version and the typed version don't match at all. sweatdrop
Yes, I know, I changed the snake scene. Can you really blame an author for trying not to plagiarize(and have fun at the same time)?
Also, if you people would prefer entire scenes instead of short snippets to illustrate the happenings, please tell me.
[1] Ah… thank goddess I can use something more than youth now. It's just too hard to avoid those gender pronouns. wipes sweat off brow