A/N I'm back for the second chapter of my story, Greenscales. Thank you to those who added the story to their favorites or to their alerts. Special thanks to my first reviewer, Cassia4u. A virtual cookie for you! You should check out her story, Love Changes You the Eagle and the Snake, if you like romance stories with Draco! Also special thanks to my second reviewer, Evelyn. Myhki .Riddle. If you enjoy humor with Dumbledore bashing, then read her story, Ramblings of a Cynical Brat.
And now, after that rather long author's note, let the story continue! =D
Greenscales Chapter 2
When Harry awoke, the first thing he did was to try and turn on the light bulb in his cupboard. When he couldn't find it, he opened his eyes to find that he was, in fact, not in his cupboard that had served as his room for the last six years, when he came to his aunt and uncle's house. The events of the previous night came back to him. He remembered the storm, being sopping wet with Greenscales clinging to his neck trying to keep himself warm. He remembered finding the tree and then getting ready to sleep. He had given the tree a name; he remembered it-Umbrella Tree.
It was then that Harry realized that Greenscales was not wrapped around his neck as usual.
"Greenscales, Greenscales?" he called, but to no avail. He began to search in the surrounding area for any sign of a sleeping (he suppressed the thought that his familiar might be dead) snake. It took him a minute, one whole minute to realize that the area under his shirt by his stomach was bulging with a thin line.
Lifting his shirt slightly, Harry saw the hard scales of a green snake, marked with the all too familiar pattern of a circle within a triangle. He saw the faint crack on the scales inside the mark going straight down the middle of the triangle. There, wrapped around his stomach was his snake. Nobody else's snake, just his, Greenscales. The one who had told him about magic and its significance to him, his own significance to the wizarding world and all other important things he had to know about that world. The world that he so ungracefully had been thrown from all because of some meddling, old, evil man by the name of Dumbledore.
He woke the snake up. Greenscales hissed indignantly in his sleep. Harry shook him again. This time the snake stirred.
"Yes, Harry?" he asked.
"I need you to do me a favor," Harry prompted to Greenscales.
"And what might that be, pray tell?" he asked seeming impatiently. Harry knew this wasn't the case.
"I want you to sneak into town and see if there are any missing person posters up with a picture of me. If experience is anything to judge by, my relatives would have staged something about me missing. Try and get a newspaper if you can," Harry shot out the plan to Greenscales.
"Alright give me about an hour and a half," and he slithered off into the town. He returned in the time he said he would with a newspaper clamped in his jaws. He placed it in front of Harry who was meditating. Greenscales waited until Harry was finished reading it and then reported that he had seen several posters of the previous description tacked everywhere throughout the town.
The mornings progressed like this for about two weeks. One newspaper heading read: Harry Potter Missing, Search Continues. That was on the eighth day of hiding out. Occasional headlines such as that kept appearing for several days. That is, until one day, Greenscales brought the newspaper with some interesting news.
"You'll want to read this one, Harry. Everyone in that Muggle town is talking about it," Greenscales informed Harry upon arrival at the Umbrella Tree where they had been staying.
Harry Looked down at the now unfurled newspaper the Headline on the front page read: Harry Potter Declared Dead.
He looked down at the article below.
Seven year old Harry Potter nephew of Vernon and Petunia Dursely and cousin of Dudley Dursely has been declared dead. Two weeks ago, a frantic Vernon Dursely called the Surrey Police Station with a cry for help for his nephew. He waited the standard forty-eight hour and called back. Thus, the search commenced. It went on for two weeks and now we are sad to say that young Harry Potter is dead. There will be a memorial service held a week from tomorrow for the little boy. Neither Vernon, Petunia, nor Dudley Dursely was willing to give a statement. We suspect they were too caught up in grief for their nephew and cousin.
"Hmmm," Harry thought, "sounds interesting"
"Indeed"
"So, do you think I could use magic now without the trace or the Ministry of Magic being able to track me down?
"I'm pretty sure that would work out," assumed Greenscales.
"Okay then, if I were you, I would wrap yourself securely around my arm. I'm going to try to Apparate.
"Alrighty, then," as he said this, Greenscales wrapped himself around Harry's arm.
Harry kept a tight grip on Greenscales. He gathered all his determination, focusing on the destination, all the while still promoting his desire to leave this forest, Surrey, and his past life behind him. He spun on his heel.
Harry couldn't breathe. However, he didn't struggle. He knew this was a normal part of Apparation. He knew he had done it because he had heard the faint, distant, pop as he Disapparated. Not soon enough, the sensation of having a tight chest, as if he had pneumonia, left him. Opening his eyes, he saw that he had appeared in a dark alley as he had pictured in his mind.
"You alright, Greenscales?" asked Harry.
"Yeah, just a bit jarred," was the reply to his question.
They evacuated the alley, only to emerge in a huge city with tons of cars flying by.
Harry wished that his appearance would change. He felt his hair grow shorter and from what Greenscales had said, it had also become a honey brown instead of midnight black.
"Your scar is gone!" Greenscales exclaimed.
"Is it now? Well that's a definite advantage."
They walked down the streets of London searching for the Leaky Cauldron. It took them an hour, but, eventually, Greenscales spotted it.
"There it is, Harry. Look to you left."
"Ah, yes," Harry said. Harry stopped before entering the pub. He thought for a moment, and then asked, "I guess we should change my name, any ideas?"
"Garry Harrow?"
"That sounds like too much of an American name."
"Jerry Greenwell?"
"That sounds appropriate," Harry agreed. With that, they entered the Leaky Cauldron.
Inside, the building was dimly lit. On one side, there was a bar with the bartender sitting on a stool behind it. Spread out across the room was an array of tables and chairs. A few were occupied with shoppers from Diagon Alley or people staying for a drink and some dinner. He noticed a man sitting in the dark corner of the room at a table way in the shadows. He had blue-ish steel-grey eyes with silky black hair. If Harry could say so himself, he'd call this man handsome.
Harry put the thoughts of this man out of his head and marched straight over to the bar. "Hi, my name is Tom; I'm the owner and the bartender of this little pub here. What can I do for you? You look a little young to be here by yourself."
Harry was, in fact, not alone. The man, Tom, he reminded himself, just didn't know that Greenscales was underneath his shirt. "I need to get to Diagon Alley. My family and I Flooed here, but I ended up a grate behind and ended up here instead of inside Diagon Alley." That sounded convincing enough.
"Well, that's quite alright. I'll have you back with your family in a jiffy. If I may ask, what is your name?"
"My name is Jerry Greenwell," Harry replied confidently.
"Hmmm, Greenwell, Greenwell," he muttered, "I don't think I've heard that name before."
"I'm Muggleborn, Sir. My sister is also a witch and she turned eleven this year. When we found out, all the things we were able to do finally made sense. Anyway, her and our parents Flooed there with Professor Sinistra."
"I see. Now, let's get you back to your family." With that, he led Harry out to a courtyard in the back of the pub. He tapped the bricks on the wall in a certain order.
The next thing he knew, Harry saw the bricks to the Alley rearrange themselves right before his very eyes. He suppressed his amazement with this.
What he didn't know, was that Tom the bartender had been watching his reaction the whole time.
That's strange, Tom thought, usually when Muggles, Muggleborns, or even Purebloods who see the alley for the first time have their eyes almost coming out of their head. This boy doesn't even look the least bit phased! Maybe I should ask Dumbledore about a Greenwell Muggleborn coming to Hogwarts.
Tom watched as Harry, or rather, Jerry to him, scampered off a little too quickly. It looked as if he was headed towards Gringotts.
Greenscales Greenscales Greenscales
Vernon and Petunia were lying down in their bed trying to sleep. Neither could. Both were fuming. The boy was dead. Their servant was dead he couldn't come back. Well, at least the boy's freakishness was out of their house. They were no longer plagued by…by… he couldn't bring himself to say the word. It was out of his house forever.
They wouldn't have to deal with the boy's sass. Nor would they have to listen to his back talk.
Good riddance, I say, Vernon thought.
Petunia was different. She was still as angry as her husband. With her, though, there was another emotion there. Guilt? The boy was, after all, her sister's son. But, she just couldn't shake the thought that Harry was one of- Their kind.
Greenscales Greenscales Greenscales
Harry meandered through Diagon Alley. There were many places that looked interesting. The Alley harbored a book shop, and apothecary, a robe place (he made a note to go there when he had money to get a real wardrobe), a pet shop, and even a place where you could by broomsticks! But, the most magnificent building of all was Gringotts, the wizarding bank.
The marble building was pure white in color as if it had just been polished. The bank sparkled and blinded him for a moment.
He walked up to the building. Outside, there were two goblins guarding the outer entrance. The golden doors looked very intricate and complicated. Past the first pair of double doors was another set. These were the same except that they were silver. Also, they had a poem carved into the middle. It read:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
So, the goblins were certainly not a group to cross.
What Harry didn't know, was that the strange man from the shop had followed him to where he was now standing. Without that knowledge, Harry entered the bank.
Greenscales Greenscales Greenscales
A/N Yes, I did just copy the poem from the book (Harry Potter and the Philosophers/Sorcerer's Stone), no need to ask. Two updates in two days will not be a regular occurrence; I was just review/story alert/story favorite happy, so I decided to be generous. So, remember to review, etc. they inspire me to write faster and to upload! =D