Chapter 3: Monotony
Harry jolted upright, eyes wide as he heard the thump of footsteps near him. Still slightly dazed from sleep, he glanced around his bedroom. Sunlight shone into the small room, peaking through the tattered curtain covering his window. As it always was, the room was rather barren, his small wardrobe and end table being the only objects in it aside from the bed he currently laid on.
The sunlight stood out to him most. It was far too bright out for it to be his normal wakeup time, he'd overslept. Harry normally rose with the sun, hurrying out of his room long before the other children were awoken. The footsteps that he'd heard upon waking up also lent credence to his belief he'd overslept. "Still, I'm just glad I'm still alone, for now at least. I shouldn't have pushed my luck by oversleeping like this," Harry thought to himself, hurriedly throwing off his blankets.
He rushed over to his wardrobe, picking out a pair of his hand-me-down clothes that seemed in reasonable condition to throw on for the day. He quickly made his bed, a single crease being particularly resistant to his efforts to tuck the excess into the sides of the bed, despite his attempts to fix it. Grimacing at the slight imperfection in his bed, he shrugged and walked briskly out of his room, he didn't have the time today to be a perfectionist. He looked around the hallway quickly and, seeing only a few half awake older children he hurried out into the hallway.
He wished his attempts at training his body to wake up earlier were more successful, it would've helped in avoiding the other children. If it could be helped, he'd rather not deal with them. If there was one thing he'd learned over his time growing up in the orphanage, it was that children hated when someone didn't fit in. He fit in about as much as a deer did among a herd of wolves. He was smarter than the other children, he knew it and so did they. He scored far better on tests at school than any of them did and his teachers loved him for it. The children, though, were another story, ranging from jealousy over his intelligence, to picking on him out of spite. Even the kindest among them were rather short when speaking with him. Harry found it much simpler to keep his own company, reading when time allowed for it.
It was why they had chosen him in the first place. The bullies. He was almost always on his own, and with his word against the word of anyone he accused, the bullies could simply dodge any trouble by pointing out it was the three of their words against his alone. He'd already given up any hope of the matron helping him a long time ago. Any time he tried reporting them for anything, the matron did nothing. The only time she'd actually done anything had been when she'd caught them in the act when Harry had run around the orphanage looking for her while they'd chased him, and even then, all she'd done was scold them. Them getting caught had only made their retaliation that much worse the next time.
When his nightmares had caused his roommate to leave his room, taking his bed with him, the bullies had targeted him even more. Still, there was little he could do about it currently, the matron wasn't likely to listen to a six year old, no matter that he was far more mature than the other idiots in the orphanage.
Lost in his thoughts as he was, he didn't even notice as he walked straight into someone. Seeing who he'd walked into, a taller boy with light blond hair and blue eyes, Harry stumbled backwards in a panic, his eyes widening in fear. By most accounts, John was nearly a saint. The boy did well in school, he was popular, played well on the school soccer team, and was extraordinarily polite. To Harry however, he was Torment. The two friends he had, side by side at the moment? They were Pain and Suffering, though to most they were David and Paul.
"I-I'm sorry John, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," Harry explained nervously. John smiled and Harry knew at that moment he'd be in for some pain today.
"Don't worry Harry, I was looking for you anyway, I've been missing you at breakfast for the past week," John said. "Missing? I had to wake up at five in the morning to avoid you just so you'd stop stealing my meals!" Harry thought indignantly, not daring to say such a thought out loud.
"I- I forgot I was supposed to meet you for breakfast," Harry stuttered out, his excuse an obvious lie and he knew it. He had to reply with something though, John got far more upset if he thought Harry was attempting to act tough or ignore him.
"That's alright, it's why I'm here to remind you," John replied with a bright smile. Nodding towards his two friends, the two began walking towards Harry menacingly. Harry looked around rapidly, looking for an escape or witness to help protect him from John's wrath, only to realize with a gulp the hallway was cleared of any other children already, all of them down at breakfast.
"I really should've gotten up earlier today," Harry thought in regret, moments before one of the boys slammed a fist into his stomach. He instinctively bent over, trying to curl around where he was hit, only for the other boys first to slam into his head where his stomach had been moments before. He fell to the floor in a daze, giving the three the chance to surround him. Laying on the floor and looking up at the three boys surrounding him, John sneered down at him.
"Perhaps you'll remember where your breakfast should be going for the next few months until the three of us are all done with this shithole?" John asked with a smirk. Harry nodded vigorously from his spot on the floor and John smiled at the answer..
"See that you do," He said, a leg flashing out to bash into Harry's side before walking away, his two grunts following behind, laughing quietly as they did so. Once they had walked down the stairs, safely out of sight, Harry staggered to his feet, clutching at his head, still slightly dazed.
"Just a few more months, and these thugs will be graduating and the matron will kick them out," Harry told himself, doing his best to keep calm..
"If I can make it that long," He thought bitterly as he gently prodded at his side, the tenderness informing him a bruise would be forming shortly. Despite that, it was hard for him to ever get them punished for anything. No matter how hard they hit, for some reason within minutes of the bruises formed they faded, even if the pain often stayed for far longer. He lifted up his shirt to prod at several other sore spots on his body, all strangely bruise less. He was sure his head would be hurting for the next day or two as well. Either way, he had school soon, he needed to get his breakfast to John fast if he wanted to avoid their anger for a while longer. He could always eat when lunch at school came around.
Linebreak
"God I hate I hate it here," Harry thought with a grimace, slumping slightly in his chair as he watched the lesson going on in the front of the classroom with half lidded eyes, glancing down at the worksheet he'd finished several minutes ago. His peers looked on in utter confusion as his teacher, Mrs. Jones, tried explaining and demonstrating the use of addition to the class of Year 2 students.
"Now then, which of you can tell me what 15+8 is?" Mrs. Jones asked happily, looking around the room with an energy Harry was envious of. Dealing with his so-called peers each and every day for nine months out of the year at school, combined with dealing with the kids at the orphanage led to him feeling largely exhausted most of the time. It didn't help that sitting through these basic lessons was slowly killing any patience he had left. There were only a few months left in the year, but the lessons didn't seem to be getting any more challenging than they had been to start the year.
"Not that it's really Mrs. Jones' fault in the least. She tried to get me moved ahead a grade or two when I proved to her that I was already doing division easily, but the matrons at the orphanage shut her down hard. After all they couldn't be seen to be showing favoritism or whatever other drivel they used as an excuse to explain why I couldn't be bumped ahead. No matter what they tried using as an excuse, I know the reason was that the matrons didn't want to pay for the extra supplies for classes or the fee for a placement exam," Harry pondered, ignoring the teacher's lesson.
Not that it was really anyone at the orphanage's fault either. Funds around the orphanage were just extremely tight already and they didn't want to have to buy supplies multiple times a year like they would have to if he started skipping years and needing new books and equipment. Still, sitting in a classroom listening to his so-called peers learn how to do simple addition was painful. The only reason he'd been able to keep from going insane was the books and worksheets Mrs. Jones had started providing him to work on while the rest of the class watched her lessons. A dismissal bell shook him from his thoughts, drawing his attention to the clock on the wall.
"Oh my, I'm sorry class I lost track of time, feel free to pack up and go," Mrs. Jones said cheerfully. Heaving a sigh of relief that school was over, Harry began packing up his supplies when she walked up to him, smiling over at the children slowly filing out of the room.
"Mrs. Jones, thank you for the worksheet, it helped a lot with keeping me busy" Harry said politely, handing her back the fully filled out sheet of mixed number division problems. It had actually been hard enough he'd had to think about it for a while with some of the problems, a stark contrast to the problems the class had been working on today.
"Actually, about that Harry, the headteacher, asked me to stop giving you those worksheets and extra assignments. He said I shouldn't be singling out a student for special treatment and that if you want to be challenged it's up to your guardians to contact the school about the advanced placement program, I'm afraid this will be the last one I can give you," She explained, a frown on her lips. Harry stilled slightly for a moment at the information, smothering a flash of anger that threatened to overcome him for a moment.
"So in the end she's just like everyone else," Harry thought to himself, mentally frowning.
"That's okay Mrs. Jones, I understand," He replied aloud, doing his best to maintain his polite demeanor. She slumped with noticeable relief when Harry hadn't lashed out at the news.
"I'm sorry Harry, my hands are tied here," Mrs. Jones apologized softly, walking back towards her desk. Harry didn't know quite what was worse. That he'd been barely surprised by her news with how often people around him seemed to give up. Or that it still hurt just as much as it had the first time, despite his lack of surprise at it occurring.
"Why can't one person, just one person, actually care," Harry thought bitterly, walking out of the classroom, his bag in tow. He'd deal with it. He always had and that wouldn't stop just because yet another adult turned out to be useless.
Linebreak
The classes from that point on were nigh unbearable, although thankfully Mrs. Jones could never quite find it in her heart to force Harry to pay attention during the lessons, allowing him to self study, just without the help and guidance she'd been providing previously. Time continued to march on, and as it did, summer finally came around and with it, the school year ended, and with it, the three boys who had been bullying him were finally forced to leave the orphanage. With the school year's end, Harry was left with another problem. Killing his summertime boredom.
Harry looked around cautiously as he walked down the large hallway, pausing at a polished oak door that had a large lock on it. Taking a small bobby pin from his pocket, he fiddled with the lock for a moment before hearing a satisfying click. Easing open the door, he slipped inside, looking around briefly as he shut the door behind himself. Three rows of desks took up the majority of the room, with a large desk and chalkboard taking up the front of the room. According to the Matron when he asked her about the locked door one day out of curiosity, it had been used by a particularly enthusiastic matron roughly fifty years ago to tutor the children during the summer. Further investigation, otherwise known as picking the relatively old lock, had revealed a treasure trove inside the room.
"Books, my only escape from this hell," Harry thought to himself contentedly, taking in the massive bookshelf that spanned the length of one wall of the room, filled with books of all kinds. He was unsure where the funding for the books had come from, the sheer quantity told him it was probably quite expensive, perhaps the orphanage had a wealthy donor at some point, but Harry wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He tried to come as often as he was able to slip away for a few hours without drawing attention to himself. The room brought him a sense of security with its old lock, along with the quiet sanctuary it offered him.
Unfortunately, while he had indeed survived until the trio of bullies had left the orphanage, it was hardly the end of his troubles. Within days, a duo of fourteen year old boys had risen to take their place as his tormentors. "At least Michael and Derek leave my food well enough alone though," Harry thought to himself. They tended to be much more enthusiastic about the idea of beating him senselessly to ease their frustrations than any potential benefits they could gain from him.
Settling into the plush chair behind the desk in the room, Harry opened the top drawer of the desk and retrieved the book he'd been reading, A Leader's Guide to History. He loved this room more than anything else in his entire life. A safe space for him to be alone, to think, to read, and to just be himself for once. No one would ever suspect he was in a locked room, assuming he managed to keep the fact he'd learned to pick the lock on the door a secret. Opening his book, Harry leaned back into his chair.
"Throughout history, a select few people can be considered to be a cut above the rest when it comes to leading. They each seemed to possess some special quality that sets them apart from others that most seem to lack. Throughout this book, each of the leaders that we've discussed so far possessed this quality, Gandhi, Napoleon, Alexander the Great and Genghis Khan to name a few.
What is it that they all had in common? They all had widely varying views, with Gandhi's pacifism being almost the polar opposite of Khan's conquest strategies, yet years later, both are considered to be amazing leaders. The answer is a simple one, yet knowing that answer doesn't necessarily make their accomplishment any easier to achieve.
They all excelled at inspiring people, in bringing people together to achieve a goal they believed in. For Gandhi it was resisting the British through nonviolence, for Genghis Khan it was destroying the old tribes and uniting them all under his rule, for Napoleon it was stabilizing France, for Alexander his goal was to bring different cultures under common rule. They all had a vision to aspire towards, and they inspired others to seek that goal out with them. That ability to inspire others to believe in their vision is perhaps the greatest trait a leader can possess…" Harry read, occasionally struggling to understand some of the words but powering through anyway out of sheer desire to understand.
People had never made much sense to him. He couldn't understand their immaturity at times. He couldn't understand some of the stupidity he saw, or why the bullies always had to be so violent towards him. He couldn't understand the children his age either. Why would he ever want to play in the dirt when he could learn more about the world instead? He couldn't understand why all the adults in his life seemed to care so little for the children they were supposed to care for find his answer, he'd turned to the one thing that had never lied to him. Books, a source of endless information if one knew where to look. It was from books he'd learned how to somewhat understand the other children. He'd used books to learn how to recognize the jealousy they had for his intelligence for what it was.
He'd always be grateful for the time he got in this little haven of his to learn. It was the one place he was safe from all the distractions of the outside world, the bullies, the annoyance of the other children. Not that he ever got more than fleeting moments in the room. He had to be careful to make sure no-one would miss him for too long whenever he went to read. Today, for example, he'd done his chores and told the Matron he was going off to play outside at the nearby park. Thankfully, the Matron didn't particularly care about the safety of the children under her care, and with only a little persuasion from himself, she'd agreed to allow him to go to the park alone despite his age. However, unlike most days, the quiet he'd come to enjoy so much inside the room was disturbed for the first time
"Vicioussss bird! Cruel to poor little me," A strange voice startled Harry out of his thoughts. His head whipped around the room, searching for the source of the noise.
"Who in the hell found me here!?" He wondered to himself as he searched. The room was entirely empty, not a person to be seen anywhere. Pausing in place for a moment, he listened quietly, trying to hear the voice again.
"Oh the pain! It hurtsss," He heard the voice once more. This time though, Harry was ready for it. He managed to pinpoint where the sound had been coming from, the far left corner from him, near the door. Curious, he rose from his chair, and walked towards the corner of the room where he'd heard the noise coming from. His eyes locked onto a long snake with sandy looking scales before he flinched backwards, stumbling several steps before he steadied himself.
An adder, he recognized offhandedly as he stared at the snake. He recognized it from a book on reptiles he'd read a few weeks ago, the only venomous snake native to the United Kingdom. No doubt it had slithered into the building through one of the various holes the building had due to how long ago it was built that caused it to be so drafty. From what he could tell from this distance, the snake seemed hurt though, a patch of rust colored dried blood visible on the snake's body. Still, there was no sign of whoever had been talking. Looking at the snake, Harry felt something seem to click within him, a faint buzz like feeling seeming to fill his body. Struck by a sudden bout of realization, he looked towards the snake again.
"If you want I could take a look at your injuries," He offered the snake, probing for a response. For a moment, the silence made him feel as if he was a fool, surely he was crazy, attempting to talk to a snake. That was, until the snake spoke back.
"A speaker! Oh mighty one, you would do be the sssservice of healing my woundsssss?" The snake asked, enthusiastically at that. Harry, unsure of how to respond, did what any sensible person would do in his position.
"What in the hell!?" He thought to himself, staring at the snake blankly. Bracing himself slightly, he leaned towards the snake, fear forgotten as curiosity took over.
"Did you just talk to me?" He asked, still unsure of his own sanity.
"Of courssse! Why wouldn't I? It isss my honor to converssse with a ssspeaker!" The adder declared proudly. Well, at least that helped ease some of his doubts. Still, the snake couldn't seem to pronounce an 's' to save its own life. Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he replied to the snake.
"You've said that word twice now, what is a speaker?" He asked curiously.
You are! One who can ssspeak to sssnakes sssuch asss? I!" The snake answered happily. There was a name for one who could speak to snakes? Was there a precedent? He would need to investigate. Crouching down, he glanced at the snake's body, trying to judge the depth of its wounds, although the snake's slight movement made it hard to tell.
"Do you have a name, little snake?" He said softly, staring at the creature in wonder. The snake seemed to pause its squirming for a moment before answering.
"No… my hatchmatesss and mother died to the ssssame bird that attacked me before I could be named, ssseveral days ago in fact, while I managed to avoid it for the passst ssseveral daysss, it found me in the end assss well," The snake said, its small head drooping slightly. Harry's eyes dropped from the snake, looking towards the floor. He knew all too well the pain of not getting to know one's parents. It was a pain he and every other child in this orphanage lived in. The children may be beyond him to understand, if his failure despite his extensive reading was any indication, a simple snake however… that he could learn to understand. Especially one that had been born so recently.
"Then I shall give you a name, Bo, short for Boa Constrictor, another type of snake in a land beyond the oceans," Harry decided, looking up at the snake once more. The snake seemed to perk up at his words, some of its sadness vanishing.
"Oh thank you ssspeaker!" The snake said, almost vibrating in place from excitement. The snake being newly hatched seemed more and more realistic by the moment.
"You're hurt, would you like me to take care of those wounds, Bo?" He inquired, slowly reaching out towards the snake in fear of being bitten, despite the snake's intelligence. However, he had nothing to fear.
"Thank you again ssspeaker," The snake said, whimpering slightly as Harry picked him up, taking the thank you as permission.
Placing him gently on the desk, Harry began tending to the snake's injuries as best he could, tearing off a small portion of his already ratted sleeve to dab at the blood. Using the same bit of cloth he covered the snake's wounds, three deep punctures that were clearly from talons.
"Ahhh, thank you ssspeaker, I feel a little better already,'' the snake said gratefully. It moved slightly on the desk as it spoke, its scaled head rubbing against Harry's hand in a show of affection.
"I'm not sure if those will heal anytime soon Bo and I don't think you'll survive while being hurt, you wouldn't even be able to hunt very well, if you'd like you can live with me for a while, so long as you stay hidden," Harry offered slowly. The snake seemed enthusiastic about the idea.
"Live with a ssspeaker! Of course! Oh how jealousss my nessstmatesss would be if they were here to sssee me!" The snake yelled in acceptance. Harry smiled slightly as he picked up the snake, hesitantly tucking it onto his shoulder as he reopened his book once more. Snake or not, he had books to read, and not even a talking pet would stop him from reading them. He could explore just how the hell a snake could talk later.
AN: As it happens, Wednesday, along with Sunday, are my days off, so what with me managing to write the next chapter for this story so early in the day already, I might actually have time to write another chapter of Alter Forte today, we shall see. Anyways! I hope you guys liked the chapter, and if you read this far please leave a review. It means a lot to me to see what you guys think and the feedback helps me to improve my writing going forward.