AN: Fair warning, some possibly disturbing descriptions of child abuse coming up. If you have no inclination of reading that, stop at the triple line. Start reading again at the second one, it's safe from there. Well not exactly safe, but nothing just as disturbing. In the end there will be an AN summarising the plot points between those markers (won't be that much, just making clear how much Harry actually suffered).

Chapter 2: The Library and the Snake

Harry was sitting in the library again. During the last few weeks, this had not been an unusual occurrence, not after finding this strange "other" part of the library, for lack of a better word. A few days ago, Harry had noticed something peculiar: He was the only one who could enter. The first time this thought came to mind had been a few days ago, when the librarian had been waiting to close up and had started looking for him, knowing Harry was still there. After minutes of fruitless search, looking through all the aisles, she had obviously conceded to defeat and assumed him to already be gone.

From then on, Harry had seen the most fascinating things to happen: Once, a few middle aged women had come to the shelf, obviously looking for a book. At the moment when Harry was sure he had lost his silent refuge, they had actually started taking very solid books from what seemed to, at least for Harry, be a see-through shape of nothing. This had happened time and again, and even the group of rowdy teenagers who had come by after school had not been able to breach his sanctuary, despite one of them being shoved into the shelf quite forcefully.

So now, Harry was sitting in what he started to think of as his "private library" and reading through a stack of books in front of him. Before, books had never been that special to him. Now though, they meant safety and a way out of the day-to-day Privet Drive. The current stack of books cycled around a topic that fascinated curious boy to no end, even if he still wasn't sure if this all was real or a really mean move of the Dursleys. This topic was something called "potions". He had started his reading with a book called Potioneering for Beginners, his reason being a beginner's book could not be that hard. This particular book he had finished a week ago, followed by a few others on the same topic, the last of which he now put down.

While perusing for something else to read, he happened upon a section of the shelf holding a considerable number if rather thin, unnamed books. His interest piqued, he pulled out the first of the volumes and opened it. The bool turned out to be a diary. Now he was fighting an inner conflict: "Read it? But it's a diary, it's private… Yes, but it looks so interesting" he nearly heard his interest and conscience fighting inside his head. In the end, interest won and he started reading.

10th June, 1944

Dear diary, remember I told you Father was going to free Europe? Well he did, at least he helped. I heard they were successful in France; they are now past the beaches but still… Yesterday, an officer from the military came, told us Dad did not make it and I am worried about Mum, she has not stopped crying since then. I think I haven't even quite realized it… He was always so strong, so wise. Why did he have to go, he is a Shoe-maker, for god's sake. Now Dad is gone and I wonder if Mum will have to continue working after the war to support us. I'm not sure, Diary, if I shouldn't be more stricken, like Mom. Did I not love him? I know you can't answer, but this feels good anyway

13th of June, 1944

…

Harry kept reading, captivated by the unknown writer's feelings and words. After several pages he stumbled upon something that made the insides of his mind tingle, if something like that is even possible: "Wizarding World". It was an entry from 20th June, written in a script far less tidy than everything else in the journal so far. Apparently, the writer had been visited by a man of the name Slughorn. "What a most… unfortunate name" Harry thought to himself. This man had told him about something called the wizarding world, about people called muggles and, most importantly witches and wizards. More specifically, muggleborn witches and wizards, from non-magic parents and the accidental magic young witches and wizards would experience in moments of stress.

"Magic…" Harry now said to himself, immediately flinching under the voice of Uncle Vernon sounding "There is no such thing as magic!" inside his mind, coming alongside countless memories of being called "Freak". Dropping the book, Harry ran out of the library, garnering a nasty glare from the librarian, and out to the street. "There's no such thing as magic! There's no such thing as magic! There's no such thing as magic…" he kept repeating to himself, knowing, in the deep recesses of his mind that this was wrong, yet still somehow hoping it to be true. If only for his Uncle to be, well not happy, Vernon was never happy, but maybe not irate and therefore a danger to Harry.

Harry was sitting in the car, on the way to the zoo. Usually he did not like Dudley's birthday at all and for most of it, this one was no difference. It had started with a rude awakening, a rude breakfast and a rude talking-to from Uncle Vernon, about not doing anything "freakish". Still, he was sitting in the car on the way to the zoo. "Could be worse, I could be stuck with Mrs. Figg and her cats." He thought to himself shuddering at the memorable mixture of smells made by cabbage and cats.

It had been a long time that Harry had not been to "his library" and even though it made him miserable, he really had no inclination to go back and possibly ire his Uncle. The words he had read however stuck around in his mind. These words about potions, about a world of ma…

"Woah, dangerous territory, stop right there" Harry managed to interrupt himself. "Just in time, do not even think the m-word".

They had been in the zoo for quite some time now, and Harry was as happy as he could get being with the Dursleys. He had even scored an ice-cream, because it had not been large enough for Dudley, who insisted on a new portion to be delivered, leaving the started cup to Harry.

Somehow this was all a little too good. It was early afternoon now and the Dursleys, plus Harry and Dudley's best friend and consort in "Harry-hunting" Piers were walking toward the reptile house. Harry walked around, looking at the various kinds of snakes on display throughout the room. He stopped at one, easily the largest snake in the whole exhibit. But that was not what drew Harry to its terrarium. To Harry, the snake somehow looked sad, especially after Vernon had started knocking on the glass to "motivate the snake to do something. When this did not work, Dudley declared the snake to be "boring" and moved on.

At this moment, Harry felt a strange kinship with the snake. Being locked up, someone knocking on the door for their own amusement, being seen as far less than human… he could relate it that.

These rather depressing thoughts were interrupted b something rather unusual. Some time after Dudley had left, obviously having found something more interesting, the snake lifted and winked…

"Woah, I must be really tired…" Harry thought.

Yet, the snake winked again and now started speaking: "Zzzisssss your fffamilly? My condolecessssss…"

Still a little shocked Harry started to answer: "Hello… do you understand me?" The snake nodded, as far as that was possible. "You get used to it, at least a little. How come I understand you?"

"Well you're a ssssspeaker, of coursssse" came the rather puzzling answer. Upon seeing the puzzled expression on the human's face the snake snickered in a rather disturbing way. "Magic!"

"There's no such thing as magic! There's no such thing as magic! There's no such thing…"

"Ssstop it rrright there, of course there issss" the snake hissed its answer, seemingly getting a little agitated. "You're a ssspeaker, why don't you know about your sssskilsss?"

Any further conversation was halted, however, by Dudley screaming for his parents to look and then pressing his face at the glass of the snake's terrarium, shoving Harry out of the way. As he continued pounding at the glass something "freakish" happened: From one second to the other the glass just vanished and Dudley fell into the aquarium, right next to the snake. Said snake, not particularly on good terms with the fat human decided to scare him a little. It slithered around Dudley's large frame a little, watching in amusement as the human paled and screamed, before making its exit from the reptile house with a last "thhhhank you!" towards the much nicer human, all the while eliciting screams from the bystanders.

"You damn, ruddy, worth for nothing freak!"

Harry was being torn out of the car by his hair by his livid Uncle for his supposed transgressions. "I told you to do nothing freakish, you worthless piece of shit! After all our generosity, you reward us with using your abnormality to attack Dudley!"

The young, small boy was scared to death. He already had a bruise on his chest from a fist Uncle Vernon had rammed into him on the parking lot of the zoo, when no one had been looking. Now he was being torn inside the living room of Privet Drive 4.

"But Uncle Vernon, I didn't…"

"SO YOU'RE TALKING BACK AND LYING NOW TOO! Worthless freak, I'll show you. Get off your shirt!"

"But…"

"NOW! Don't make it worse for yourself, boy!" And with that Uncle Vernon started taking off his belt while Harry wordlessly and with a face pale from absolute terror started to take off his shirt.

"YOU" CRACK "ARE" CRACK "TO" CRACK "BEHAVE" CRACK "LIKE A" CRACK "NORMAL" CRACK "DECENT" CRACK "HUMAN" CRACK "BEING" Each word was interspersed by the crack of the belt, Harry screaming in pain as the buckle hit the older wounds on his back. When the belt did not sate Uncle Vernon's growing hunger for violence anymore he switched to fists hitting the boy in the ribs, in the face. Having screamed in pain at the buckle Harry now just stood there, silent tears running down his face, until his legs gave out below him and he fell, hitting his head on a chair and receiving a kick in the rib for good measure.

Then, everything turned black around Harry.

Velvety blackness surrounded Harry as he awoke. Drawing his first breath after waking up, he felt intense pain, reminding him about the events that had transpired… "Well, when exactly?" he asked himself. Wincing a little from the intense pain of it, Harry started to sit up. He was in his cupboard under the stairs, a spider staring at him from its web in the far away corner. Or at least it felt like the spider was staring him, Harry was not really sure spiders could actually stare.

Crawling towards the door, Harry made inventory of his injuries: His bare back was raw from the whipping with the belt he felt at least a few broken and cracked ribs and found he could not really open his left eye.

"No broken limbs must've passed out in time" he thought with a disturbing amount of gratitude in his mind's voice, knowing full well his Uncle did not enjoy punishing him when he was unconscious. He also knew that, when Uncle Vernon found him conscious, he would finish what he had started. With a sudden stroke of luck he realized the padlock on his cupboard to be unlocked. "Seems they thought I would be unconscious much longer." Scared though he was, this was an opportunity he was unable to let pass. He sifted through his cupboard for the few things he wanted to take with him, namely the alarm clock he had repaired (it showed 3am), the tape he used to tape together his glasses and a plastic bag filled with the hand-me-downs from Dudley. It was not that he liked them, but that he needed these things.

Silently crawling back to the door of the cupboard, he thought about where to go. He really had no idea, as the place where a person felt safest, his home was the place most dangerous to him right now.

"I need somewhere I'll be safe, a sanctuary, somewhere only I can enter…" And with that thought it hit him. "The library, I'll get to the library!" Having settled his destination, Harry crept out under the stairs and silently made his way towards the door, all the while his heart thumped in his chest out of fear of being found. Every noise a danger, Harry flinched in fear even at the slight sound of him opening the door to the front lawn. After having made his way out of the house and into the dark night, Harry started to move faster, at least until he tripped over something and fell down, face first onto the grass. Harry panicked in fear of being caught, and unbeknownst to him a disturbing aura started to gather around him.

"Calllmmmm downnn, Sssspeaker!" the snake from the zoo told him in an, at least for a snake, surprisingly calm tone. Harry started to calm down, and with his panic receding so did the aura around him. "Everything's okay, you just fell over the snake… Wait, what is it doing in Little Whinging?" he asked inside his head. As if reading his mind, the snake said: "You fffreed me, I wasss determined to reccciprocate! The fat human did a rrreal number on you, did he nnnot? Should I go in and strangle him real quick?"

"What, no! I don't want you to kill him. He took me in, was always generous to me…"

"He mosssst certainly wassssn't! The snake interrupted him mid-sentence. "Ssstill, it isss not the time for thisss discussion. I suggesssst we movvvve. Where to, young Sssspeaker?"

"Local library, there's a room there only I can enter. By the way, what is your name?"

"How fffflattering of you to ask. I am Ouroborosss. Do not bother telling me yours, everybody knows you, Harry Potter…"

And with this rather cryptic statement they started their way towards the library building.

The bright morning sun shone through the window of the master bedroom at Number 4 Privet Drive and woke up Petunia Dursley neè Evans. When she opened her eyes something immediately felt off to her. Getting up on her elbows she looked around the room and her eyes landed on the man lying in bed with her, still snoring a little after overexerting himself over punching some sense into her ungrateful good-for-nothing nephew, the son of her equally worthless and freaky sister and that Potter bastard.

With those thoughts she started to get up, when she finally realized what had been bothering her all along: it was completely and utterly silent, she did not hear the silent yet distinct clanking of the boy making breakfast. "Maybe he needs a little more of the belt to get the message, ungrateful little brat."

More thoughts like this in her mind, Petunia Dursley made her way down the stairs, out to give the boy a rude awakening. While she had never hit him, she was quite adept at angry tirades and fully intended for Vernon to deepen the message to the boy from the day before later. What greeted her in the cupboard under the stairs however was not a sleeping boy, nor was it an alert yet defiant boy; there was just no boy at all.

"VERNON, COME DOWN HERE!" She screamed for her husband.

"The ungrateful little brat is gone!" Petunia told him a few minutes later, after Vernon Dursley had come down the stairs, panting from moving his massive form faster than usual and still clad in his pyjamas.

"Well then who the damn hell is gonna make breakfast now?" was the only answer she received.

Across town Harry Potter awoke to a throbbing pain in his chest and his head.

Panic filled him and he opened his eyes, taking in the unexpected environment. He was sitting in a stuffed armchair inside his "private library". With this image, the admittedly hazy memories of the last night returned to him.

He and Ouroboros had made their way towards the library building and somehow Ouroboros had managed to open a window after slithering inside through some vents, letting Harry inside. It had all been done rather slowly because every time Harry tried to take a deep breath he had winced in pain instead, from his broken ribs.

He was feeling a bit better now, but still far from healthy or well.

At that moment, the snake he had come with slithered back from between two aisles with surprising enthusiasm.

"Ssspeaker, I havvve found sssomething mossst interesssting! Follow me, if you would." Intrigued, but still very much in pain, Harry got up slowly and started to follow the excited snake who led him through the aisles to a part of the library Harry had not had the time to look at so far. "Hmmm, this 'room' is way larger than it should be, larger than the rest of the library at least…" Harry was woken from these musings as Ouroboros stopped in front of what seemed, at least to Harry, be an ordinary piece of dark-panelled wall.

"I noticcced a draft right there, Ssspeaker, help me look for a door." He instructed Harry, who immediately started looking. After several minutes of searching, he hit a little square pressure plate in the wall and in front of him opened a door to a rather dusty corridor. Fascinated by this new discovery in his refuge, Harry started exploring. He found a little bedroom with a dusty queen-sized bed, a bathroom, even a little kitchen, although none of the appliances seemed used in a long while. What was most interesting to him though, was a room he recognized from a description in a book he had read: a potions lab, complete with a small storage cupboard filled with labelled potions. Taking one he recognized as a healing potion he went to the bedroom and downed it in one gulp. Then, exhaustion claimed him again.

The nice human had been sleeping for most of the bright-warm-light-outside and it was now dark when Ouroboros decided some nourishment was in order, both for him and the Speaker. After coming to this decision, the large python slithered away from the foot of the bed where he had been guarding the human, through the corridor and out of the magical-library-room. Slithering out of a window, his hunter's instincts immediately kicked in and he smelled a suitable meal for both him and the human on the wind.

"Too eassssyyy" he thought as he closed in on the rabbit.

Harry awoke to two rather different sensations: The first of them rather surprising, yet very welcome; he felt loads better. The second one was much less surprising, considering the time he had slept both in the chair and in bed; he needed to pee.

Stepping into the bathroom, he was shocked at the image that awaited him in the mirror: While he had healed a lot over the night, the entire left side of his face was still covered in an enormous bruise, as were parts of his torso. He had blood all over him and his glasses were splintered and sat on his nose rather crookedly.

After relieving himself he took to the shower, where he found rather old-looking soap and started washing away the blood and grime. He winced silently as the hot water and the soap hit the streaks left behind by the belt on his back, but after the deed was done he again felt loads better.

Leaving the bathroom behind he almost stumbled over Ouroboros again, who lay curled up on the floor in front of the bathroom door, a small white rabbit clutched in his fangs. "Good morning, Ssspeaker, I sssee you feel better. I brought nourissshment for you." He said and dumped the dead animal on the floor in front of Harry.

"Well, thanks, I guess…" The rather fazed recipient of the gift answered, picking up the rabbit and starting to move towards the kitchen. "Guess I'll have to figure out how to make this edible now."

Harry sat at the kitchen table, finishing his rather bleak meal of cooked rabbit. As it turned out, the kitchen was fully equipped, including cutlery fit to prepare the rabbit at least somewhat haphazardly so as not to have to eat fur together with the meat.

"Hey, Ouroboros, wanna explore this place a little more?" Harry asked the snake, who was comfortably laying one of the other three chairs, still digesting its own rabbit. "No thanksss, Ssspeaker, you go ahead. I'll jussst keep lying around. Would you kindly make the room a little warmer though, I am cold-blooded after all…" he said with a small, hissy chuckle.

After turning up the heating, Harry left the room and set to explore his secret sanctuary. Giving the bathroom a second look, but not finding anything really interesting, he moved on to the bedroom. Here, in one of the side-tables he found another one of the diaries he had so interestedly read before. Setting down on the bed, he started reading.

30th November, 1975

Dear diary,

It has been decades since I last wrote an entry, but I feel now it is needed. A new Dark Lord has risen and the Ministry seems unable to stop him. Since writing a diary has served me well when the last one was around, even though I didn't know it then, I figured I'd start again.

He-who-must-not-be-named is continuing to grow in power and I fear for my life, for I am sure that at this point, not even Dumbledore can still stop him. And as a "Mudblood" I will be high on his hit-list.

Therefore I have decided to go into hiding. I packed up all my books and will now look for a place to lay low for the time being.

A few entries followed this; detailing the unnamed writer's journey through England fleeing from people he called "Death-Eaters". They were succeeded by another entry that Harry decided to read in the full.

25th of December 1975

Dear diary

I finally found a place where I think I'll be safe. It's a library in a so utterly magicless neighbourhood in Surrey that those Eaters will never look for me here. I charmed one of the book shelves with muggle repelling charms and made it to only let magic people through. Now the muggles will see and even use a perfectly solid shelf, while magical people will have access to a secret room I enlarged using an undetectable extension charm. I even started to build a little flat for me, hidden behind a false panel just like in Hogwarts.

Getting a little bored by now, Harry leafed through the book until he reached the very last pages that still had writing on them.

16th November 1980

Dear diary,

I think I've been made. After my supply and book run yesterday (I picked up the revised Potter book), I saw people in cloaks patrolling around. Maybe going to Diagon Alley was a bad idea after all…

Still, now I'll have to move. I'll really miss this place.

The diary will remain here, so should I not make it, someone might someday find out about what happened to me, tell my family about it, my name is Kenneth Jones. Should I survive I am going to return here, if not, well… l made it five years, that's more than most get when He's after them…

The following pages were all blank and it was quite clear to Harry that the mystery writer he now knew to be named Kenneth Jones was dead, killed by whoever this "He" might be and a silent, singletear escaped Harry's eye.

AN: In the rather graphic scene, Harry was beaten by Vernon for his outburst of accidental magic. After waking up in his cupboard, he takes all his belongings and, fearing for his safety, leaves the house, only to stumble over the snake, who introduces himself as Ouroboros.

Do not expect this schedule to continue, the words are just flowing out of my hands at the moment, no idea if this will continue.

Please leave a review those are always appreciated and very helpful. Plus, they're a great motivation. I am especially interested in what you think about the library's origin story.