Before They Collided

...

Hey, everyone! I'm back with the next chapter, which is a little snapshot into the lives of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Draco, and my boa constrictor semi OC Hercules before they met one another.

And I know Ron was likely homeschooled in canon, but I liked the idea of there being a primary school to help them get a basic education before they truly trained their magic at Hogwarts. ((Plus, I needed the idea for the plot). And yes, Dan Potter is a bit of a prat here, but he'll change for the better in time.

Also I don't know whether I need one, but I'd like to give a trigger warning for a mildly graphic depiction of child abuse and Neville's near drowning experience.

...

Almost Five Years Later

Little six year old Harry lay sobbing in the cupboard that Aunt Petunia and Vernon said was the only room he deserved for being such a freak, holding his hand to his bruised and cut cheek, his back throbbing as he tried not to aggravate the bruises on it. He didn't understand what he had done. How could he have even turned the teacher's hair bright blue? But despite him pleading that he hadn't meant to, his Aunt Petunia had screamed at him, and his uncle had dragged him into the back room, slapped him across the face while yelling at him, and then given him a few whacks with his belt before throwing him in the cupboard and telling him that had to stay in there with no meals until he had "learned his lesson."

He could hear Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon arguing in the next room, Aunt Petunia saying something about "calling the freaks," and Uncle Vernon arguing about losing money and saying they'd knock the freakishness out of him themselves. He curled up tighter, terrified.

He knew his relatives didn't love him as much as Dudley; that they hated being burdened with him ever since his mommy and daddy had showed up and left him there. They often ignored him while they hugged Dudley and gave his cousin lots of treats and toys, but this was the first time they had ever hit him, or made him stay in the cupboard instead of the small bedroom he was no longer allowed in.

Maybe he truly was a freak. Maybe that was why his mommy and daddy didn't want him. Why Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon hated him. Why Dudley and his gang chased him and the other kids wouldn't play with him or be his friend.

This was his fault. If he had been good, if he wasn't so freaky, maybe they would have loved him. But freaks didn't have friends.

Freaks didn't get to be loved.

...

Miles away, another six year old was also having a bad day. Ron Weasley sighed as he sat at the lunch table all by himself, watching as Dan Potter was swarmed by adoring fans as the Boy Who Lived eagerly retold the story about how he "defeated" the Dark Lord, flipping his dark brown hair in the way the older boys did to look cool. The other kids hung onto every word.

But Ron could see what they didn't. Dan was kind of a prat.

He remembered the first day of school when he had shyly approached Dan and asked if he wanted to play Wizard's Chess with him, only to hear the sniggers of Zacharias Smith and Cormac McLaggen, the school bullies and Dan's so called best friends. They had taunted him about his patched up robes, and the dirt on his nose, and how "The Boy Who Lived has better things to do than play a boring game like chess with someone like you."

And even worse than their cruel words was the fact that Dan was laughing too.

(Being six and humiliated, Ron never heard the discomfort in Dan's laugh.)

Over the next few weeks, the bullies continued to make fun of his poor clothing, his lack of money, and even his red hair and freckles. Dan admittedly never said anything, but he did sometimes laugh along with the others.

But whenever Ron told anyone how mean Dan and his friends were being, he was brushed off by the teachers and the one time he called Dan a prat out loud, the other kids accused him of being "jealous."

When he told his parents about it, they told him to just ignore them, that they would stop if they didn't get a reaction.

And Ron was trying, but the mean words had simply escalated to "pranks" that always had the ability to scare him or make him feel humiliated.

He didn't know what to do to make them stop.

His thoughts were cut off when he was suddenly shoved from the side as the Terrible Trio pushed their way past him.. "Oops." Smith grinned as Ron nearly fell off his chair.

Ron chose not to respond as he knew it would only make the bullying worse. Instead, he turned back to his plate.

Only to see a giant spider sitting on top of his food.

Ron was terrified of spiders and had been ever since Fred turned his teddy bear into one. So understandably he yelped, swinging out at the spider and knocking his plate to the floor. Everyone burst out laughing, including Dan.

"Raggy Ron is a scaredy cat!" McLaggen taunted, causing the other kids to laugh more. The laughing resounded in Ron's ears and he trembled. Angry and embarrassed, he ran for the toilet, just wanting to get away from the laughter. He locked himself in a stall and sat down, pulling his knees up to his chest. Would he always be the butt of a sick joke?

Would he always be alone?

...

Little seven year old Hermione Granger too had the same fears as she too sat alone at her school's lunch table, her only company being the book she held in her hand. The other kids teased her for being a "know-it-all," and about her frizzy hair and buck teeth. Every attempt she made to make friends was ignored, and people rolled their eyes when she rambled about all the interesting facts she had learned from her books or became overly eager and practically leapt out of her seat to answer teachers' questions.

Not to mention, odd things happened around her often. Last year in her old school, she really wanted a book that was on the top shelf, and it literally floated down into her hand as she tried to reach up, right in front of the librarian and some of her classmates. Some people had been convinced she was possessed or something, rumors had gone wild, and her parents, worried about her, had moved them all to Crawley.

Her parents were very loving and tried to reassure her, but she knew they were scared and worried. She was too. She didn't know why she could do those things. Why she was so different.

She felt so alone.

...

Neville Longbottom, six years old, was alone too, but he felt better that way, having slipped away from his uncle and grandmother to explore. Happily, he walked along Blackpool Pier, curiously examining the plants overlooking the sea, though very careful not to slip and fall. He liked it out here where it was peaceful, just him and the waves and the plant life. Plants never told him he was a squib or useless, or did scary things to him to try to get him to use magic. They were quiet and calm, only asking for water, care, soil, and love.

He smiled as he softly stroked the petals of an orchid, soft and silky against his skin. Maybe if he asked nicely, he could get one to take home and plant in the greenhouse.

He didn't see his Great Uncle Algie sneaking up behind him until he felt large hands grab him, lift him up, and then throw him off the pier. He shrieked as he fell into the icy water below, flailing his limbs as salt water filled his mouth, choking and burning. He managed to get his head above the surface just long enough to cough out the water and take a deep breath before going under again. He had never been taught to swim and he was absolutely terrified.

Somehow he was able to get himself to the surface again. "Uncle Algie, help!" he pleaded.

"Use your magic, Neville!" his uncle called back, making no move to help him as Neville sank again.

He tried to get to the surface again, but his limbs were leaden from the cold and exhausted from struggling. He tried to focus, to use his magic like his uncle wanted, but nothing happened, his panic and despair leaving him unable to even touch his magic, let alone save himself. Despite fighting to hold his breath, it came out in a trail of bubbles. Black spots filled his vision. He thought he was going to die.

And then finally, finally, he was lifted out of the water and dropped roughly on the pier. He landed hard, scraping his knees and elbows, and coughed up water as tears filled his eyes.

His uncle looked down at him in disappointment and disgust. "Unbelievable, boy. Too weak to even use magic to save yourself." He grabbed the boy's small wrist and started to pull him home. Neville followed, scared and ashamed. His uncle was right. He was too weak to save himself. Too weak to make them proud. He was nothing like his father, who his grandmother and uncle talked about with adoring praise.

They would never love him like they loved his father. He was nothing more than a disappointment to them, and they always made sure to show it.

Maybe he would never be good enough for anyone's love.

...

Unlike Neville, little five year old Luna did know she was loved. She didn't have many friends either, but she did have her mum and dad, and that was enough for the small blond haired girl.

"Mum, is Daddy coming home soon?" she asked her mother as she "helped" cook dinner.

"Very soon, love. He's on his way." Pandora Lovegood replied with a smile, giving the pot in front of her a stir and ruffling her daughter's hair.

The door soon opened and Luna happily rushed to her father's side. "Daddy! Daddy, how was your adventure? Did you find the Crumple-Eared Snorlack?"

"Crumple-horned Snorkack, my darling Luna, and no, not yet, but I know it's out there. It's a very elusive beastie." Xenophilius Lovegood answered, scooping up Luna and hugging her before setting her down and kissing Pandora on the cheek. "However, even though I didn't get the photograph I was after, I did find some of its fur caught on a branch near a muggle hiking trail." He reached into his bag and pulled out a little specimen bag with a bit of purple fluff, handing it to Luna with a flourish.

It was actually a bit of fluff from another little girl's stuffed toy, but Luna didn't know that. She grinned from ear to ear. "It's so pretty!"

"It truly is. Keep it. It'll bring you luck." Xenophilius said with a smile. Luna happily bounced at this, making her parents laugh.

They had no way of knowing that in less than four years, their world would be torn apart.

...

For six year old Draco Malfoy too life was also about to take a difficult turn, though thankfully in a much more positive way than Luna's.

And it would all start with one simple, innocuous meeting.

Draco sighed as he stood in Diagon Alley, watching his father do "important business" with one of the shopkeepers. His father's business might be really important, but it was also really boring!

He looked at the stores, hoping his father would be done soon. He had promised to take him to look at brooms, but he had been talking for nearly half an hour.

Draco took a few steps away. His father never noticed, so he just continued. Maybe he'd find something to do.

And then a brown-haired boy about his age sitting on a bench and playing with a colorful red, blue, and gray robot toy caught his eye, drawing the curious and bored six year old like a moth to a flame.

Draco sat next to the boy. "What are you doing?" he asked bluntly.

The other boy looked up at him, grinning a gap toothed smile. "I'm playing with my Optimus Prime action figure! Do you want to play too?"

Draco shrugged, acting cool. "Sure, I guess so. I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. What's your name?"

The boy smiled. "I'm Kevin Entwhistle. It's nice to meet you."

Draco didn't recognize his family name, but figured he was probably one of the lesser known families. It didn't matter much to the six year old anyway, who was more interested in the cool looking toy. "Now who's Optimus Prime?"

"He's a Transformer! He's the leader of the good robots, the Autobots, who protect Earth from the bad robots, the Decepticons! He can also transform into a truck! He's so cool!" The other boy continued to talk excitedly, and poor Draco only understood one word in three of what he was saying.

"Slow down! What's a robot? And what's a truck?" Draco asked in utter confusion.

"A robot's a machine that can do stuff and think for itself without people controlling it. And a truck's a big vehicle people can drive and carry stuff in!" Kevin gave the best explanation a six year old could give on what a truck was, and Draco understood a bit better. It also helped when Kevin showed him what a truck looked like by transforming his Optimus toy into its truck form.

"Don't you have trucks in the magical world?" Kevin asked when he finished explaining.

"No, we do not. So you've been in the muggle world? Are you half blood?" Draco asked, hoping this was the case.

Kevin frowned in confusion. "What's a half blood?"

"Is one of your parents a witch or wizard?" Draco elaborated.

"No, but my big brother is! And Professor McGonagall said I am too!" Kevin told him happily.

Before Draco could say anything about this, a sharp voice interrupted. "Draco! What have I told you about wandering off?!" He jumped and looked up, seeing his father staring down at him with a displeased look on his face, arms crossed.

Draco looked down. "To not to, Father."

"And yet you did not listen. I'm disappointed with you. You could have been hurt, or taken by some of the riff raff." Lucius gave Kevin a look like the six year old was the scum beneath his boots. "Now let us go. Your mother is waiting for us at home." He then turned away, clearly expecting Draco to follow.

Draco felt a sick feeling in his stomach, knowing he had disappointed his father. "Yes, father."

"Bye." Kevin said sadly.

"Goodbye." Draco said softly, feeling an ache. If Kevin was a mudblood, he wouldn't be allowed to play with him ever again.

Kevin gave him a sad smile. He looked down at his toy and then at Draco before biting his lip. He then thrust Optimus into Draco's hands. "Here, you can play with him until we see each other again. He's a good guy and he'll make you feel all better." he whispered.

"But..." Draco started, knowing he probably wouldn't be allowed to see Kevin again.

"Draco!" Lucius scolded when he realized his son wasn't behind him. Draco quickly hid the toy in his robes before his father could see it.

"Thank you." he whispered back to Kevin before obediently going to join his father.

Lucius practically dragged him away. "What were you doing, associating with a mudblood?!" he hissed after they were far enough away.

"But father, I don't think he's a mudblood. You told me how bad and foul they were, and Kevin's nice!" Draco protested.

"It doesn't matter how "nice" he is! He's a mudblood, and I won't have you associating with such filth!" Lucius growled as he led Draco to the floo. "We're purebloods, Draco. You have perfectly good friends with excellent breeding. There's absolutely no need to lower yourself to make nice to a mudblood. They'll only cause trouble for you. Do you hear me?"

Draco looked down. "Yes, father."

"Good." With that, they both went through the floo to Malfoy Manor. Once standing in their sitting room, Lucius turned back to Draco. "Now go to your room and think very carefully about what you did today and why it was wrong. A house elf will be by with dinner later."

Draco obediently marched to his room, and sat on his bed, looking down sadly. When he knew no one was coming, he pulled out the Optimus toy and sat it on his lap. His father said Kevin was a mudblood and was filth, yet Kevin had given him the toy he clearly loved a lot, just because Draco was sad.

Kevin couldn't be a mudblood! He was too nice and friendly! Nicer than many of the kids Draco normally played with. And he wasn't dirty like his father said mudbloods were, or stupid. He knew lots, and was able to tell Draco about so many new things. Like robots and trucks.

Even if they were muggle, Draco had to admit they were neat.

His father had said mudbloods were bad. That Kevin was bad. And his father knew everything.

But why did what he said sound so wrong? Make Draco feel all icky inside?

Draco had a lot to think about, just like his father said. But the conclusions he would come to in the coming years would not be the ones his father wanted.

...

That year, a tiny boa constrictor was born, among fifteen other hatchlings in its mother's litter, looking very much like many of its siblings, except for one major difference. And when one of the breeders came to remove the little snakes from their mother, he nearly had a heart attack when that very baby boa constrictor raised its head to look up at him.

And blinked.

The small snake was removed very quickly from the others and taken to be checked over to see if pieces of shed had gotten caught on its eyes, but much to the shock of the breeders, they realized it had somehow been born with a fully functional pair of eyelids, made of the same thick skin as its body.

The hatchling was very passive, letting itself be poked and prodded without even an attempt to bite. Whenever its eyelids weren't being messed with, it watched the breeders, and some silently swore that the gaze was boring into their soul. Other than the eyelids and the unnerving gaze though, it was a completely healthy baby snake.

The breeders discussed what to do with the strange little boa constrictor. It watched quietly and passively let itself be held until someone mentioned the possibility of euthanizing it. It stared at the dark haired man, the owner of the breeding facility, with a look of what could only be described as horror and started to squirm to get away and tried to bite.

"Whoa! What the hell is with this snake?! If I didn't know any better, I could swear it understood that." the blond haired woman holding it said and put it back in its container.

"Maybe it can." one of the younger handlers, a red haired man in his twenties with bright blue eyes, pale skin, and freckles put in hesitantly.

The owner rolled his watery brown eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. It's a snake. They don't understand anybody."

"Bloody weird snake though." the vet put in. "Despite the eyelids though, it is healthy."

The red haired man smiled at this, seizing the opportunity to save the tiny snake. "We should keep it then. I'm sure some owner or a zoo will want it. A snake like this will get a lot of interest." He looked up at the dark haired man hopefully. "I'm sure you'd make a lot of money off it."

The dark haired man shrugged. "All right, fine, we'll keep the snake."

Both the red haired man and the little boa constrictor in the tank, the snake not yet understanding the words spoken, but hearing their intent, relaxed at this.

Over the next few months, the little boa constrictor, discovered to be male, grew quickly. Very quickly. Despite the fact that males were supposed to be smaller than females, the boa constrictor was soon longer than his female siblings. And with the abnormal growth came a voracious appetite, causing him to need to be fed more frequently than the others, and shockingly quick digestion. Unlike the others, he could move fairly quickly after eating without regurgitating his meal. This brought on yet another trip to the on-site vet, but once again tests proved him to be a very healthy snake with no condition that explained the strange growth rate or digestive habits.

And not only was his growth abnormal, but his mind seemed to work differently than other snakes, and his eyes seemed to gleam with a strange intelligence. Handlers or breeders working in the room would often feel eyes staring at them, and turn to see him completely alert and watching them with an almost childlike curiosity. Snakes weren't meant to be expressive, but somehow, he seemed to be.

And when he was talked to, mostly by Cam, the handler with the red hair who stood up for him, he seemed to understand every word that was said to him. When he balked at eating a thawed frozen fuzzy mouse, Cam asked him to eat, worried about the boa constrictor. The young boa had looked up at him as if sensing his worry, then softened and took the dead mouse, looking up at Cam as if asking if he was happy now.

And unlike the rest of his litter, instead of just tolerating handling and affection, he seemed to crave it, at least from a certain few people, and for Cam, would go straight to him and slither into his arms when he reached into the tank, looking up at him in an expression that could only be described as adoration. He did it with a few other handlers too, though the owner of the location he would move away from and eye warily. He never bit since that first time though, and unlike many boas, was not head shy and would in fact nudge a hand if he wanted petted much like a dog would. He even once fetched like a dog. One day when one of the workers was cleaning out his container and accidentally dropped the sponge, the boa came over, picked it up in his mouth and reared up, handing it back to him, much to the shock of him and also Cam, who had come in just as this happened.

Though when Cam's friend threw the sponge to see if he'd do it again, the snake gave him a dirty look, those expressive lidded eyes pretty much saying, "You threw that on purpose, you pick that soapy, disgusting thing up yourself, human." before going to cuddle in a laughing Cam's arms.

And one day, Cam noticed his boa friend had a protective nature too. While the snake sat in in a bucket outside his cage, soaking off a stubborn shed with Cam watching him, a new handler was moving a very cranky rattlesnake from its cage, only to accidentally drop the rattlesnake, who first tried to go after the handler, then went right for Cam when the handler jumped on a table to get out of striking range.

The next thing Cam knew, he had a very angry, soaking wet boa constrictor between him and the angry rattlesnake, knocking the rattlesnake away from Cam. Despite being less than a year old, the boa was already bigger than the rattlesnake and the venomous snake quickly slithered away, enough for Cam to grab the hook and get the snake back in its cage before picking up his big buddy, who wanted to crawl over him, almost if checking to see if he was okay.

Actually, Cam thought to himself. There's no almost to it. He truly is no ordinary snake.

Cam wanted to try to convince the owner to keep the boa, or to buy him himself, but the owner didn't want to breed him just in case whatever mutation that caused the eyelids caused some other defect, and he wanted more than Cam could afford. Plus, the owner had several offers already to buy the unusual snake. A few small science labs had been interested as well as the London Zoo.

Cam was extremely worried, especially when some of the scientists came to look at the boa constrictor, poking and prodding him as they examined him none too gently, exclaiming about the eyelids and asking about the unusual behavior. The boa clearly didn't trust them and hissed and moved closer to Cam, getting more frantic when one callously mentioned brain scans and dissection. Thankfully, the owner and the scientists couldn't agree on a price.

There was only one way to save his big buddy. Cam called the London Zoo and using his best sales tactics, telling them how big and impressive the boa constrictor was, how gentle, and how many visitors he'd bring to the zoo, which managed to convince them to up their offer.

Still, it hurt when the day came that his big buddy was to be sold. Cam was the one to load him into the container to be sent to the zoo, getting to hold him one last time.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you, buddy. I hope you'll be happy." he whispered sadly. The boa constrictor nuzzled against him, giving him a look that Cam knew meant he understood. Cam put him in the container and watched as it was loaded into the truck and taken away.

...

While much better than the science labs he could have ended up going to, the zoo was very lonely. The boa constrictor was well cared for and fed and while grateful for that, he missed his friend. The zookeepers didn't hold him or talk to him the way Cam did, and he was only taken out of his tank for it to be cleaned. Other snakes didn't like to be held by humans, and wanted to live as wild a life as possible, so they did the same for him, not knowing he was so different from other snakes that he needed and craved to be held and given affection. And while he liked watching the zoo's visitors as they passed by, pretty much all the attention that was given was people banging on the glass and making his head hurt. He learned to be quiet and still as to not reward their banging so they would stop doing it. And as he lay there, pretending to sleep with his eyes open like most snakes, he picked up enough human language to understand most of what people were saying, and the nuances of their expressions. Though it didn't help much that no humans talked to him or could understand what he said back.

And he didn't really have any friends with the other snakes either. The rest thought he was rather strange and a little annoying. He could sense the intentions and emotions of both humans and the other snakes, and even if they were lying, and it annoyed the other snakes greatly when he commented on it, or when he babbled about stuff he learned that he heard humans talking about. Learning when to speak and what to keep hidden was still a work in progress, to say the least, and he still hadn't quite gotten a handle on it. It made for a very lonely time.

But there was one thing he did get that he never had before. The zoo had little contests going on often where kids were allowed to name the snakes and reptiles, and a bunch of giggling human hatchlings got together and chose his new name from a list.

Being the biggest snake there, his name was now Hercules. It was a strange sounding name, but considering the cottonmouth in the tank next to him was Cranky Carl and the cobra below Carl's tank was Sir Hiss, he had gotten off lucky.

But he still longed for more out of life than watching the world pass by through thick glass he could not escape from. He wanted someone to take notice of him as more than just a freaky snake. He wanted to be cared for and held, and to have someone that loved him.

But as the years slipped by, he began losing hope of that.

Until the day a tiny, black haired boy with thick glasses and the greenest eyes he'd ever seen stepped through the doors of the reptile house and into his heart, giving him the freedom and love he so desperately sought for.

...

I hope you guys enjoyed the second chapter! For those curious/worried about Dan's behavior, it stems from both being spoiled, being famous, and his secret insecurity and Imposter Syndrome. Dan is famous for something he doesn't remember doing, and it confuses him. However, he's six, and being the Boy Who Lived makes people like him, so he tries to act the way he's convinced the Boy Who Lived should, and Smith and McLaggen being his "friends" doesn't help matters. He wants to act cool, and is too afraid to go against the crowd yet. What Dan needs is to learn his actions have consequences, and that he needs to get friends who like him as Dan, not the Boy Who Lived.

Also, for those who read A Familiar's Intuition first, I thought it would be cool to actually give Hercules a real backstory. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Please review and let me know what you think! If you have any questions, concerns, or suggestions, feel free to let me know in a review or PM me!