The Rise of Harry Potter

Summer eventually took spring's place, schools were let out, and Harry was bombarded daily with rocks, insults, and the occasional water cousin had learned nothing, though Harry wasn't sure what he'd actually expected.

It was manageable. He stuck to the shadows of the house and only interacted with the Dursleys when he absolutely had to. Often times he could get by without saying anything the entire day- nobody actually initiated conversation. He began to wonder what a genuine conversation was like, he couldn't remember.

The oppressive dry heat of June officially ruined the last clean clothes Harry had brought with him. Sweat and dirt had stained his clothes and left a permanent smell that wouldn't come out no matter how many times he washed them. It was only a matter of time until Aunt Petunia threw them out.

June 23, Harry was released from his hard cupboard only to weave through the mound of wrapped boxes and gifts in the living room.

37 presents, which was one less than last year, apparently. Dudley had shouted and started throwing a temper tantrum. Watching the obese boy shed crocodile tears, Harry felt sickened. The presents filled the room and left little space to walk. His parents soon managed to placate their screaming son by promising to get him two more on the day's outing.

Which Harry was forced to come along on.

(More realistically though, the Dursleys didn't trust him enough to leave him home alone. Petunia had started to have suspicions that Harry could escape from his cupboard.)

This left him following quietly along to the zoo.

Harry trailed behind the Dursleys, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible.

He didn't particularly want to be associated with them, obnoxious-looking tourists even in their own country, but he knew that running off or disappearing on his own wouldn't end well for him later.

The muggle zoo was fascinating. Harry hadn't the opportunity to visit any sort of animal habitats since the dreaded and eventful night a year ago. Since then even the thought of seeing a collection of animals left him with a loud frantic pulse and a nauseating dizziness. Regardless, he couldn't find it in himself to admit that the assortment of fur and feathers interested him more than most everything.

Seeing real tigers without fangs or African gazelles lacking spines and extra horns was a surreal experience. Although most were lethargic in the midday heat, they each possessed a sort of mesmerizing beauty other people didn't seem to recognize.

He felt a deep seated fury bubbling up insideas Dudley and his friends continued to ponder the activity of hurling empty beverage containers or small rocks into the enclosures. His fingers clenched and unclenched when one boy actually hurled himself against the glass and thoroughly terrified one sleeping sea-lion.

The next step on the zoo tour was to visit the large imposing facility on the far side. It was embellished with decorative artificial jungle vines and large sandy boulders. The letters had been painted on in bright green: Reptile Den.

Entering the Reptile Den, Harry once more felt his heartbeat quicken. The air smelled stale in here, the humidity and filtered air of a carefully controlled climate. He stood in the middle of the hallways to avoid being too close to the lizards and staring crocodiles. The tank to his right featured an abnormally large turtle and a few dozen small fish.

He flinched when Dudley this time complained loudly and rudely about the waste of space each lizard was, evidently due to their inactivity. His voice bounced and distorted off the glass walls of the many tanks.

Harry twitched, already uncomfortable and tense from his rising anxiety and loathing for the blatant mistreatment his cousin displayed towards the creatures.

"Make it move!" Dudley complained loudly. He watched approvingly as Uncle Vernon huffed and rapped his cane sharply against the glass. The python behind the glass jolted back, eyes narrowing as it started to shake alarmed and confused.

Harry hated this. How could anyone care so little for a living thing?

Dudley cheered once a particularly loud whack stirred the snake into hissing and rearing. The action was entirely defensive, its tail whipped around wildly as its coils tightened protectively.

"Blasted thing," Vernon grunted, mustache twitching as the snake hid its head, "better use as a pair of shoes if I say so myself."

Harry's eyes widened. He shifted a little to watch the snake around his uncles girth. One of Dudley's friends, having been watching the crocodiles raced over to view the now active snake.

"Move it, freak!" Piers shouted, elbowing sharply into Harry's side and knocking him to the floor. He landed on sore elbows below a hot sandy showcase.

Pierce raced around Vernon before he clapped both hands harshly against the glass. It echoed, making the snake violently flinch and move for any sort of exit.

"Look at it squirm!" Piers laughed, clapping the glass again, "The ones at home don't squirm like that, do they Dudley?"

Harry grit his teeth and before his eyes, quite magically in fact, the boy leant forward and fell into the habitat.

Harry stared as Piers screamed, scrambling backwards as the mighty python rushed to freedom. Dudley screamed, jumping back against the wall as the snake hissed loudly.

Vernon belted something ugly while Aunt Petunia shrieked, clutching her purse to her chest.

"Oh, deserved." Harry heard, a snickering sound in a dialect just slightly off from English.

The python hurried, weaving between the concrete benches and decorative fake plants towards the exit, it hissed out a muffled yet distinct cry of "Goodbye!"

....

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