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Chapter Text

Harry Potter had two very different portions of his childhood. The one where he was but a husk of a person, disconnected from himself and the dreary world around him, and the time after. When something changed inside of him.

It was the eve of July 31th, and a family by the name of the Dursleys had been snoozing soundly in their beds after a perfect summer's day. Vernon Dursley, a heavyset man with a thick mustache and the proud patriarch of the family, had finally earned that promotion at the drill factory he so loyally worked for for just over a decade. He had come home that evening to another well-cooked dinner, and even broke out the ice cream for a celebratory dessert. Petunia Dursley, a tall, thin woman with curled blonde hair and Vernon's wife, also had a lovely day. As she had spent her afternoon having tea at a neighbor's house with all the local mothers and chatted away about all the latest celebrity gossip. Dudley Dursley, the family's precious, only son, had a wonderful day as well; playing all sorts of fun games in the neighborhood streets with the other local schoolchildren.

Now the sun had set on the quiet street of Little Privet Drive, and the midnight hour was now close to striking. A small shuffle, however, could be faintly heard behind the cupboard door under the family home's stairs. A barely conscious boy, that looked far too small for his age, shifted into a better position on his thin cot. His frail body littered with burns and bruises after a long day of grueling labor. What many people of the small town of Little Whinging, Surrey did not know about the Dursley family was they had another ward. Petunia Dursley's nephew, by the name of Harry Potter. As few people as possible knew of his existence, as he was but a stain on the pristine life of the Dursley family. Thrust onto them when he was but 1 year of age after the death of his parents. He did not fit into the family's picture perfect picket-fence life, he was tainted; and the Dursleys made sure to remind him everyday of this fact.

Harry's life was not the best, but he was not one to complain, he didn't feel the need to. He didn't feel much anyway. He was a shadow of the Dursleys' home, well a busy shadow. He would cook the meals, clean the house, care for the garden, and then disappear back into his cupboard like he was never there. He didn't feel the burns from the popping oil as he cooked his uncle's extra bacon on a stool in front of the stove that morning, the bruise on his boney hip after his aunt sneered and pushed him into the wall as she left the house that afternoon, nor the tiredness in his bones as he scrubbed the mud off the floors in the foyer that Dudley trailed in that evening. His life was as grey and dull as the boring suburban house he resided in, and he did not care. He knew nothing else. Sometimes flashes of gold would shimmer and disappear in his mind’s eye, laughter would echo in his head, but only when he was alone, only when he searched deep into the tresses of his head. Only when he was within the safety of his dark and quiet cupboard.

Harry stared at the scuffed wristwatch in his hands as the long arm got closer and closer to marking the next day. He had pilfered said watch from the lost and found box at the primary school he attended with Dudley. The school he had to quickly run to to avoid being late as Petunia wanted Harry to clean up after breakfast and not be seen walking to school with her son. Harry preferred it more that way. Dudley, a spoiled and coddled boy with thick dirty blond hair and diluted blue eyes, had been more antagonistic with him when he was younger, but soon found out that bullying someone who didn’t react to his verbal or physical assaults wasn’t as fun to torment as the other unfortunate children. This meant that Harry was fine as long as he made himself as uninteresting as possible. Not that it was too hard to do so, his looks definitely helped, for the most part. He was a small and frail looking boy with paled brown skin and a plentiful amount of messy jet-black hair that sneered at the term ‘tidy’. He wore baggy secondhand clothes, Dudley’s of course, that seemed to swallow him up and unfitted glasses that slid down his bridge of his nose every other second. Hidden behind his glasses, however, lay his more unnerving traits. Bright green eyes seemed to almost glow in low light, and a long, neat scar across his forehead and right eyelid. It cut down from his hairline and through his eyebrow and on top of his eyelid in a lighting bolt pattern. He tried his best to hide these features behind his fringe and large spectacles, as they only seemed to draw bad attention.

Petunia looked him in the eyes as little as she possibly could and when she did she’d either sneer or throw him back in his cupboard with a bit more force than was usual. Vernom liked to comment on the origin of the scar as often as he could. He loved to talk about how Harry’s parents were unemployed freaks who died in a car accident while drunk driving with a one year old Harry in the backseat. A piece of glass having supposedly sliced his face during the impact. Looking at his own reflection made him realize how lucky he was to have not lost an eye, but he would have traded both for his parents to still be alive. He just knew that they were related to the sunlight that peeked through the cracks of his psyche, he just did.

Harry always stayed up on the night of his birthday to watch the clock hit midnight. He wasn’t sure when he started this tradition, but he just felt it was the right thing to do. This feeling had amplified tenfold on this particular birthday, and Harry made sure he fought off sleep long enough to witness the occasion. Seconds before the clock struck midnight, Harry felt a pressure build behind his skull. His scar burned and his eyes teared up before his world suddenly exploded in pain. Harry opened his mouth in a silent scream and clutched the fabric of his oversized sleep shirt in a deathgrip as his head felt like it had been split in half. His very being felt like something had been violently torn off of it. The last thing he felt before he passed out was warm blood streaming down his face, a soft hand caressing his cheek, and the sound of childish laughter and cheers ringing out from somewhere deep inside of him.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry rose from the depths of slumber calmly, not knowing what woke him as his mornings usually started with his Aunt banging harshly on his cupboard door and yelling at him to make breakfast. She really had a shrill voice like a demented parakeet when she yelled. Harry giggled joyfully at the thought, the sound was so foreign to his ears that he stopped abruptly. His confusion was put on pause with the sound of gentle hissing permeating the otherwise silent cupboard. He opened his eyes to what looked like a murder scene on his shirt and cot, and suddenly the memories of last night came flooding back. Before he could panic a voice that bore striking resemblance to a serpent's sibilation from somewhere close to Harry calls out: “Finally! I’ve been waiting for hoursss!”

Harry frantically looks all around for the source of the strange voice but his search seemed fruitless, he is alone in his cupboard.

“Look down you foolish child!”

Harry does so and is stunned at what he sees, lifting his left arm up to his face. A tattoo of the black outline of a fanged snake was wrapped around his forearm, but the more shocking revelation was that it seemed to be the thing that was speaking to him. The snake stared up at him with what seemed like an unamused look and impatiently flicked out its tongue. Harry felt his jaw drop at that seemingly sentient tattoo he somehow acquired in his sleep. Harry had not seen many tattoos in his short life, but he knew for a fact they did not move or speak. He could see the image of the snake shift as its body curled more tightly around his arm, its body expanding and deflating in subtle breaths. The life-like movement was fascinating to watch. He must have been staring quite stupidly for quite some time as the snake opened its mouth to speak again.

“Are you being purposssefully daft or did my emergenccce actually knock ssssome screwssss loossse?” the serpent snapped.

Instead of responding to the quite rude remark Harry asked his own question:
“Why would a tattoo need to breathe?”

The snake gave Harry the harshest glare a tattoo had ever given him, this being the only one he felt it lacking in its goal to intimidate him. This snake was on his bloody arm for heaven's sake! Harry opened his mouth to tell off this unwelcome addition to his appendage when it interrupted him.

“Hush you insssolent imp! Don’t you want to know what I am or why I am here? Perhapsss why you're covered in blood and can actually feel for oncce? Then shut up and lisssten!”

Harry stopped to think on the snake’s words for a moment. He did feel quite different, he just couldn’t put his finger on it before the pratty reptile pointed it out. His mind felt open, that was the best way he could describe it. His head also hurt like the dickens, but moving on. Thoughts and emotions whirled around his psyche in a metaphorically colorful barrage, something that was completely foreign to him. All his life his thinking was straightforward and not very emotional. He sometimes wondered why he didn’t cry or laugh when other people did; he knew his reactions, or lack there of, disturbed people. His uncle would look at him bewildered and then angry when didn’t react to his kicks or slaps, his peers would talk about his lack of facial expressions when they thought he couldn’t hear them. He didn’t really care what others thought, because he didn’t care for much at all. He had no interests, no friends, and no urge to have them. He walked through life doing what was told of him before going back into his cupboard to dream of his elusive sunshine.

Harry’s pause seemed to signal to the snake to continue as it began to speak once again.

“Good. Asss to what I am, I am not quite ssssure. My mind isss a fratured messs of memoriesss and emotionsss. All I know issss that I have been resssiding in your ssssoul for quite ssssome time. Trapped mossst likely being the better dessscriptorr of my ssssituationn. Sssomething quite temperamental was wrapped tightly around your ssssoull, and me by asssoccciation, and it took quite a lot of magic and convincccing for her to loosssen her hold on you.”

Harry’s mind was reeling at this confusing information suddenly thrust onto his 7 year old psyche, but his mind hooked onto word magic like a moth to a flame.

“You mean that magic is real? Like the tooth fairy or Santa Claus? I thought it was just a way for my aunt and uncle to blame someone else when Dudley complained about not getting enough money or presents.”

“What?? No! I don't even know what a Sssanndy Clawsss isss or what horror would be named a teeth fairy- Moving on! Of coursssee magic issss real, it’sss what makesss uss wiccan better than thossse ussselesss mugglesss!” the snake spat.

“Oh good. The tooth fairy seemed really inconvenient, mostly because Dudley told me one time that if I gave her any of my teeth that she would try and rip out the rest too. I made sure to hide them really good so just in case she went looking elsewhere that she’d never find them. I don’t think I will be able to eat anything without them, and I already don’t eat that much.” Harry said innocently.

“Oh for Merlin’sss sssake- enough!” the snake hissed angrily. “You are a wizzzzard Harry Jamesss Potter, capable of extraordinary featsss that no muggle could ever hope to compare to. You are to sssstand up for yourrssself for onccce and not let thoss-ss-sse deplorable excussesss for blood relativesss treat you like the dirt beneath their bootsss! Fortunately for you, I can teach you how.”

“My middle name is James? Wait, who is Merlin?”

“For the love of -”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After trying to explain to Harry, quite painfully, about what it means to be a wizard and how it is different from being a muggle, the other occupants of the house were beginning to make themselves known.

“Great. It ssseems to finally be morning, and unfortunately thosse mugglesss did not perish in their ssslumber. My mistake for hoping.”

Harry yawned wide at the mention of sleep, but his mind was still running amuck like a hyper dog in his skull. Barking and begging for more information on his new status as a wizard. There, however, was not enough time to ask much more, so he decided on asking something else that he was curious about.

“My aunt will be down any minute to kindly bang on my door and yell at me to make breakfast so I want to ask one last thing. What is your name? I can't exactly call you the grumpy snake I have stuck on my arm. Doesn’t have a good ring to it.”

Ignoring the childish insult the definitely-not-grumpy snake thinks on it.
“I believe I had a name before my ssserpentine fate, but the sspecificitiess of it elude me. I believe it started with v, or maybe t . . .”

“Well the only v name I can think of is Vernon, and I don’t think I’d curse anyone, snake tattoo or not, with that. For t, hm . . . ah! The perfect name! I’ll call you ‘Toad’!”

“What?? No! Absss-ssolutely not! Why would you even think to inssssult me in sssuch a-”

“No! Wait! It’ll make sense in a minute! I think toads are cool, mostly because I watched Dudley lick one when he thought no one was looking during break-time at school and then he was really really sick for a whole week. He said he didn’t know why he was sick, but I think it was definitely because of the toad. That makes toads pretty wicked in my opinion. Also I can hear my Aunt about to come downstairs so you need to choose really fast before she’s here. You also need to hide somehow!!”

The snake did indeed hear footsteps start to come down the stairs above them.

“Fine! But thisss is not going to be permanent! We’ll sspeak on this later. I can move to other partsss of you so I'll try to sstay hidden under your clothess when in the presencce of othersss. Just don’t do something sssstupid like try and sspeak to me and we should be fine.”

‘Toad’ slithered up Harry’s arm and disappeared under his sleeve just as Petunia banged on his cupboard door with a to-be-expected screech of: “Get up! Up! Before I make you!”

The day began as it always did, with Harry making the Dursley family's breakfast and scarfing down what he could without getting caught, but his spirits remained lightened. Practically aflame with all the potential that had been brought into his life. The presence of Toad safely tucked away on his person was a more than comforting thought as he went about his daily summer chores in a trance. He never thought he would make a friend, or even want to have one, but it seems the tides have turned for a young boy named Harry Potter.

They never did speak on the name later.

Chapter Text

The next four years pass quite strangely, as Harry and Toad adapted to their newfound lives. Harry with his now existent emotions and Toad dealing with an unexpected side effect of said emotions. It was the night after Toad’s arrival that they both found out what that effect was. Harry had settled into his cupboard after another long day of back-breaking chores and finally began to feel the ache in his tired body. He flopped back out onto his regrettably thin cot and tried to stretch out the kinks in his joints when a quiet voice startled him out of his relaxation.

“Are you back in the cupboard? I can’t imagine that harpy would let you lay down on the job.”

Harry groped in the dark and pulled down on the cord that switched on the bare light bulb in his cupboard and was greeted with the sight of Toad slithering down his left arm from under his sleeve.

“Yes! Sorry, I kind of forgot you were there for a bit. Wait! Where did you go? I was just in the shower and I didn’t see you anywhere.”

“Hm, good. I ended up falling asleep on your back sometime around when your aunt began loudly bragging about your cousin on the phone to someone named ‘Dorothy’. I had no idea that someone could repeat the same exaggerated achievements in so many different fashions. It was almost impressive, but still extremely boring.” Toad complained.

“Oh she could brag a crocodile into a coma, Vernon isn’t much better either. I once overheard him going on and on about how much the teachers at St. Gregory were incompetent because Dudley had brought home a rather rubbish report card a couple days prior. He went on to say there was no way Dudley could have gotten those grades and that the school clearly mixed his grades up with someone else's. That Dudley was clearly a bright, intelligent, and well behaved child and it was an insult to even suggest otherwise. He was having dinner with a coworker's family he had invited over when he said all this and failed to realize the man’s wife was one of Dudley’s teachers. Dudley had drawn a crude picture of her and left it on her desk that week too. She couldn’t punish him because no one in the class snitched on him, they were all too scared of him and his bully friends, but she knew he did it. I saw her face through the cupboard’s vent as they were leaving and it looked like she had swallowed a lemon.” The memory of the amusing sight made Harry burst out in a fit of sudden and intense laughter, almost as if he were reacting to the moment for the first time.

Strange things began to occur all around them as the laughter continued. The shadows began to twist and morph into various moving shapes and patterns that almost danced across the walls like intricate shadow puppets. Pieces of spare paper began folding themselves into origami swans, frogs, and dragons that began to move as if alive. The swans taking flight, the frogs leaping from surface to surface, and the dragons breathing strips of papery fire. The pipes that ran through the cupboard even began shaking and spouting steam as if the water inside it was beginning to boil.

Toad watched it all unfold in a moment of awe before it ended almost as soon as it began. The bulb in the cupboard suddenly glowed bright like a second sun and exploded, sending out sparks and shards of glass in every direction while also violently startling Harry out of his laughter. The small cupboard was now pitch black and silent, as if nothing had happened. Harry’s breathing was labored as he recovered from the shock. He had not seen what had happened around him, but the remaining energy that crackled in the stagnant air of the cupboard and raised the hairs on the back of his neck was enough to make him believe that something strange had occurred.

“Now that was the beauty of magic.” Toad exclaimed in a slightly giddy manner.

“What do you mean? What happened?”

“I was wondering when you might begin to show signs of your core finally being free from its confinement, but this is not exactly what I thought I’d see. It’s so much more.”

“Wow, absolutely none of that made any sense what-so-ever. Are you going to keep talking to yourself or are you going to answer me?”

“Cheeky brat. The details of what happened do not matter, but how we're going to deal with this very much does. What just occurred was an atypical bout of accidental magic. The occurrence itself is not uncommon in children between the ages of 2 and 11, but it’s usually spurred on by strong negative emotions. One's magical core at those ages is not yet developed enough to perform magic with purpose, but it’s active enough to want to protect itself from danger. This typically leads to things like a glass breaking when a child is throwing a tantrum, it’s usually nothing major. What you just displayed, however, was anything but minor. It was wild and erratic like normal accidental magic, but also detailed in a way that speaks of purpose. It was caused by extreme positive emotions as well, which is practically unheard of. What were you feeling as you were laughing? Did it in some way feel different?”

Harry paused to think on everything Toad had said, he had been doing a lot of thinking these days. Way more than a 7 year old ought to, he thought. Again.

“You mentioned magic cores yesterday when you said that’s what makes me different from normal people, but how can it do something without me wanting it to? I did feel different, though, when I was laughing. It felt right, like all I should do was laugh and smile.” Harry did smile at the thought.

“It felt like. . . how I feel sometimes when I’m dreaming, when I hear and see stuff that I don’t remember very well, but I remember feeling good about it. Is that what you're supposed to feel when you laugh?” Harry questioned as he tried to swipe away the remnants of the broken light bulb off his bed so he could lay down once more.

“Your core is something I have never seen before, but I’m not sure how much weight that holds seeing as I don’t remember much either. My time connected to your core was what could only be described as pure bliss, it was difficult to pull myself away from it, despite knowing it was necessary. Existence was like bathing in warm golden silks, I will never forget that feeling. My consciousness slowly built over an unknown span of time, I was only truly aware of myself quite recently I believe. It was when I began to feel a growing restlessness within the endless calm and comfort that I began to finally understand that I was a separate entity. I inherently knew I had to do something about this disturbance; it was an unexplainable and persistent urge.

There was a voice that I began to hear around the time this urge came. A woman's voice that spoke of protecting something, of shielding it from all harm no matter what it cost. Maybe not a voice, no, more of a presence, or the remainder of one. Something powerful that surrounded your core like an impenetrable fortress. The urge became more specific as I realized this; I had to remove this wall somehow, as it was no longer needed. I tried to push myself against the barrier, but it was like pushing against solid stone. I then attempted to speak with whatever this was, and she rejected any thought of leaving. It wasn’t until I mentioned the disturbance the barrier was causing, that she finally relented. The urge then told me to wait until the time was right, and when that time came, the only thought I had was to get out. I pushed once again and the wall gave way, there was a flash of light, and I was now a mere image on the arm of some child. What an upgrade.” Toad hissing-ly laughed.

“I have no idea what will come of your unique situation, but I assure you it will be nothing but glorious, young one.” Toad said with a sigh. He glanced up and realized Harry was now breathing evenly in a deep slumber, likely hearing very little of what Toad had said. The serpent knew Harry would need all the rest he could get to navigate the paths now open to him, so he let him rest. Anyone would need respite when dealing with those muggles all day, Toad thought with a huff. He too closed his serpentine eyes to succumb to the tranquility of sleep.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

4 years later. . .

Harry woke up with a start as loud stomping feet boomed down from above him, causing dust to loosen and rain down from above. He groaned and groped around for his glasses as he heard a hissy yawn from somewhere nearby.

“I would make quite an unsightly jest concerning King George the 4th, but I feel that speaks for itself.”

“So you did know who that was!” Harry snipped.

“I wasn't going to help you cheat again. That was entirely your fault. I didn't make you spend all your free-time studying geology when you had a history test coming up.”

“I had to know how crystals came to look so pretty! Come on, you were curious too.”

“Just like how you were curious about phylogenetic trees despite having a maths test to study for, or the Lord of the Rings trilogy when you had that paper due for Language Arts, or -”

“Okay okay! I get it you pain in the tail. You're just mad that Smaug was killed.”

“It was ridiculous! A giant death-bringing beast of eternal fire killed by a single blasted arrow! No real dragon would ever die from such a pathetic attack. He should have killed that cocky bowman when he had the chance-”

Harry, used to Toad’s angry rants on whatever displeased him, yawned wide and waited for Aunt Petunia to unlock the closet so Harry could make Dudley's birthday breakfast.

Despite Toad's inspirational speech that faithful night, he realized that Harry did not have many options when it came to dealing with the Dursley’s. They both decided that acting as if nothing had changed would be the best course of action for the time. Toad’s knowledge of the wizarding world was a hit-or-miss, with knowing some things in great detail and others in bits and pieces. One of those things was something important that occurred around the time a young wixen turned eleven. Toad was sure his memories of it would come back to him once it happened, and that it was something to look forward to, so Harry wasn’t too miffed about having to continue his previous routine.

Speaking of routine, Harry was dragged out of his cupboard to cook breakfast and, unfortunately, witness Dudley’s usual birthday tantrum. Harry began getting out the necessary ingredients for French toast as he read from a cook book that practically weighed more than he did. He still had to use his handy wooden stool to reach the counter, as despite growing older, his height had yet to be alerted to said fact. Malnutrition tends to do that. Harry, however, was still not a down-spirited or crestfallen boy, despite his continued mistreatment and the recovery of his ability to experience emotions. As he had quite an easy way to combat any form of sadness that could arise due to abusive and neglectful relatives. Find ways to make their lives just a bit more miserable without it being linked back to you, and laugh at their peril.

Harry had gotten very creative as a result of his core’s spring-cleaning, and the addition of a rather spiteful devil on his shoulder, or arm usually, made it all the better. Harry was not malicious without cause, he just liked doing what he thought would make him jovial, and sometimes that was telling a garden snake to put a dead mouse in Petunia's shoes. Her scream of fear and disgust from inside the house made Harry break out into barely contained sniggers when heard it as he was weeding the garden. He had gladly gotten a hold on his mirth-induced acts of magic pretty early on, with one too many close calls.

One of those close calls was the first ‘prank’ that Harry had done with the intention of witnessing it when it occurred, despite Toad’s reluctance to risk exposure of Harry’s wild magic.

“You know I’m all for cursing those creatures for the hell they’ve put you in, but this is highly risky. You can barely keep your infectious mirth controlled on a normal day, and you’ll be in the same room when this happens. We can’t do something like this so soon, yesterday's stunt was already a little too far. The roses began singing show tunes for Merlin’s sake!”

“No one heard it over Petunia's screaming, we were fine! Besides, I promised that garden snake 5 crickets for that favor. I couldn’t just back out, it would be impolite.”

“I watched you drop a cracker on the floor, pick it up, eat it, and then lick your fingers. Politeness is a cousin twice removed.”

“You know what's not polite? Wasting a perfectly good cracker.”

“You're about to put a dead roach into the bloody cereal box!”

Harry indeed was balancing on the kitchen counter to reach up to Dudley’s prized sugary cereal box. His outstretched hand finally took hold of the box and he sat back to carefully unravel the crinkly bag and removed the clip to deposit his deceased tool of terror into the colorful carbs. He made sure to leave the bag slightly open when he put the box back so as to lead his relatives to the assumption that the roach merely entered of its own volition, and that Harry had nothing to do with it. Harry was already not allowed anywhere near it, with Aunt Petunia being the one to bring it down when Dudley grew tired of a traditional English breakfast. Petunia always put the treats of the house somewhere up high so that Harry wouldn’t even think to try and pilfer any of it. He knew this for a fact as Petunia always liked to grin savagely when she noticed Harry looking at her taking or putting back any confections.

No one was in the house as Harry set up his ‘prank’, but not wanting to risk anything, he quickly went back to doing his normal summer chores. He went to sleep that night dreaming of man-sized roaches chasing Dudley across a land made of all sorts of sugary biscuits and cakes. The next morning was just as pleasant despite the high stakes.

“Mummy! I want loopy fruits for breakfast.” Dudley said from the table as Harry began cracking eggs into a sizzling hot pan. Harry had almost lost hope until those lovely words were spoken; fate was his accomplice today. Vernon took a sip from his coffee with one hand as he held the morning post in the other and said:

“Good on you boy for wanting fruit for breakfast, you heard the man Tuney!”

He turned his attention suddenly to Harry, who had stopped his movement momentarily to listen, and snidely said:

“Back to cooking freak, and don’t even think about taking Dudley’s portion. I’ll know if anything is missing.” He heard Vernon flick his paper in a huff before he resumed cooking. Petunia had already gotten up from where she was seated at the table with her cup of earl gray and almost knocked Harry off of his stool when she shoved him out of the way to reach up to the cereal box.

“Out of the way you specky little git.” she muttered.

She poured out a hefty portion of cereal from the box on the nearby counter and didn’t react in any unexpected manner; Harry didn’t see the roach when looking out of the corner of his eye. She poured in milk and placed a spoon in the bowl before bringing it to Dudley and sitting back down. It wasn’t until Dudley had shoved a couple of messy spoonful's into his mouth that all hell broke loose. He was about to bring another shovelful into his mouth when his eyes went comically wide at the sight of an equally comically large dead cockroach on his spoon. The scream he let out was akin to an opera singer on helium who had stepped on a nail, or no, maybe more like if a sentient kettle were singing the song of its people, thought Harry as he plated and served the food on autopilot while surrounded by utter chaos. Petunia was trying her best to calm Dudley down while Vernon was raving about suing the cereal company for traumatizing his poor son. Damn, Harry thought as he began to wash the dishes, he didn’t even have to make it seem like the roach had gotten in there when it had been left open. Well, better safe than sorry, Vernon did like to put any blame for anything unfortunate on Harry when he got the chance, but even he had limits pertaining to reality. Even though Harry had obviously done it this time.

Harry suddenly stood still for a second, halting his hands that had just been working elbow-deep in sudsy water, and slowly turned to face the disorder still occurring. Dudley was dramatically gagging while Petunia tried to get him to drink a glass of water and Vernon was on the phone yelling at some poor customer service agent about diseases and the company poisoning his family. Harry was beginning to think the situation was quite funny, amusing, even. The corners of his lips began to turn up.

“Harry don’t you dare!” warned a hissy whisper from just under Harry’s left ear.

Harry gripped the edge of the sink as he strained to keep in the laughter that threatened to burst out of his very being like an explosion of gaiety. The bubbles in the sink began to rise from the water and started to morph into little cartoon elephants, and when Harry's shoulders began to shake as he began to lose the battle against his euphoric foe, they began to suck up water into their trunks and playfully spray it at one another. Toad began to panic from his spot on Harry’s neck, and began to whip around in every direction as if there would be something he could find to stop the inevitable from happening. Nothing was of any note until he looked down, not down onto the floor, but what would be considered under Harry’s skin. The view was strange to describe, but was mostly endless dark, except for the sun that took up the center of it. At least, it resembled one with its brilliant golden glow and massive size. He felt a tug on his being to go towards it, and not having other options, he dived downwards to come closer to the faux sun. Ripples of gold flowing outward from where his scaly body disappeared beneath the boy’s skin.

It was beautifully familiar, Toad thought as he got closer to it, swimming through the empty air in a serpentine fashion. He had no idea what his form was exactly in this space, as there was nothing else to see, including where his body should be, when looking around. He focused back on his task when he got close to Harry’s core. It was massive compared to what he entailed as his being, and trying to comprehend what it looked like other than large and bright was impossible. There was, however, a bit of a difference from when he had resided with the core before. The energy the core gave off now was wild and energetic, still full of mirth and comfort, but there was a mischievous hint to it that felt like the electrically charged air during a thunder storm, and it was building. Suddenly, an urge, not unlike the one that freed him from this place, suddenly came upon Toad. He almost scoffed at the sheer foolishness of it, as he was now supposed to ‘headbutt’ the core. The urges’ words, not his. He had a niggling sense that whatever was giving him these ‘urges’ was being entirely serious and he was better off to just do as he was told rather than resist. It wasn't as if he had any better ideas, so he reluctantly moved back a bit and rammed what he assumed was still his head right into the core.

Back in the physical world, only mere seconds had passed and Harry was still trying and failing to stifle his hysterics when suddenly he felt what he would later describe as a “kick to the bollocks of the soul” and promptly stumbled off his stool and fell flat on the ground. His glasses falling off and skittering to the ground alongside him.

“You better not have broken anything! Go back to your cupboard! We're taking Dudderkins to the doctor and I don’t want you free in the house. Go!” Petunia ordered.

Harry quickly searched around for his glasses before shoving them back on his face and scrambling onto his feet. He then whipped his head around to face the sink. The bubbles had fortunately become bubbles once more without anyone else in the room seeming to have taken any notice of their previous unnatural status. Harry then darted out of the kitchen without another thought and slipped into his cupboard. He closed the door behind him and waited for Petunia to lock it and the family to leave the house before he did anything else. When he hears the family finally drive off he lets out a long sigh and falls back onto his cot, his glasses slipping off his face once again in the process. Toad had traveled back from the liminal space and slithered up and around Harry’s neck.

“Well that went better than expected.” Harry said in a relaxed manner.

“Next time I’m going to ram my head harder into your core, you devil of a child.”

“That was you? That hurt, you know.”

“It better've.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry shook his head from the memory of them finally learning the rather straightforward trick to handling his accidental magic and got back to dousing thick strips of bread in beaten egg for Dudley’s favorite breakfast of French toast sticks. His stomach growled as the smell of cinnamon and sugar perfumed the air of the kitchen. He discreetly cleared his throat before waiting for the confirmation signal of two short hissing sounds. He quickly shoved a small strip of warm French toast into his mouth and chewed it quickly before making sure it was replaced with a new strip that was added to the pan.

Harry and Toad had designed this method of stealing food unnoticed pretty early on so that Harry could actually eat anything he cooked, as he was only allowed what the primary school gave him or whatever was in the pantry that the Dursleys didn’t care was missing. Toad would peek out from under Harry’s clothes and look to see if anyone was looking in his direction, and would hiss once if they were and twice if they were not. This method was also useful when Harry finally decided to venture out into the world instead of just spending his little free time in the house. Nicking produce from any neighboring gardens required someone to keep watch after all. Summers became a lot better when he could quench his thirst with fresh tomatoes or cucumbers as he hid up a tree and watched the world go by. Harry also now found joy in the simpler things in life, like birds chirping in the branches nearby, or people walking and chatting as they passed him on the nearby sidewalk. The neighbors never did figure out what was eating their garden, but it was quite amusing when he overheard them through the fence one day speculating that it must be a right sneaky badger who was at fault.

Harry found he quite liked that comparison.

Chapter Text

Harry snapped back from memory lane once more. He really needs to stop reminiscing and finish making breakfast before Dudley starts drooling like one of Aunt Marge's prized bulldogs. Though Dudley was quite preoccupied at the moment throwing a tantrum over the number of presents present.

“Last year! Last year I had thirty-seven!”

“Well some are quite a bit bigger than last year!” Vernon said, trying to placate his son's ire.

“I don't care how big they are!”

Harry covered a snort with the clinking of silverware as he set the table and laid out the food. He found his cousin's greedy nature quite funny at times, but it was also a reminder of the fact Harry had never received a present for any holiday or special occasion. ‘Actually’, Harry thought as leaned against the counter to munch on a saltine while the family dug in, ‘that wasn't entirely true’. A very chatty adder that Harry met a year or so ago in the garden gave him a gift for his birthday when he explained to the serpent the concept of the occasion. The gift, of course, being a dead mouse. Harry was so emotional by the fact that this was first gift that he, with much regret, put the mouse in his mouth to make it look like he ate it so the serpent would know he appreciated the gift. The adder was overjoyed that Harry liked his gift and promised to come back the next year with an even bigger mouse. Harry could not look at food for the next couple days.

The whole communicating with snakes bit was not as much of a surprise to Harry as his other quirks of being a wizard, it was however, one he quite enjoyed. He had asked Toad about it one day and was told it was an extremely rare trait known as parseltongue. Harry apparently had been speaking this the entire time when he spoke with Toad without even realizing it. He really had to focus on how his mouth moved when speaking with Toad to feel the difference, as his mind was comprehending the speech as English rather than thinking in the language's words themselves. He had become quite enamoured with snakes ever since he attempted to research what species of snake Toad was. He never knew there were thousands of snake species, each with their own unique colors, sizes, and traits. Toad’s likeness was seemingly based on a common European adder, a small venomous viper native to Europe and Asia. Toad detested being labeled as ‘common’ in any sense of the word, so Harry reminded him he was also a sentient tattoo birthed from a child’s skull. He went quiet after that.

“Would you like to leave for the zoo after breakfast, Dudders? If we leave soon we’ll have time to go out and buy you two more presents!” Petunia asked.

Harry had completely forgotten they were headed to the zoo today, not that Harry would be allowed to tag along. He wondered when they’d send him over to Ms. Figgs house. He dreaded the cat pee soaked carpeting and cat paraphernalia covered surfaces that were to grace his senses in the near future. Ms. Arabella Figg was a tiny and frail old woman who lived a couple doors down. She often watched Harry when the family was out doing something they thought Harry would ruin with his presence, which was everything they went out to do. Ms. Figg was nice enough, if a bit batty with old age, or catty, as she owned nearly a dozen of the fluffy creatures. Harry always became the spoiled felines’ personal heated bed when he went over; Toad finds it hilarious, mostly because they all try to sit on him at the same time. Ms. Figg usually has to roll his entire body down with a lint roller by the time he leaves, not fun.

The landline begins to ring and Petunia gets up to answer it. ‘Probably Aunt Marge calling to wish her nephew a happy 11th birthday’, she thinks. She answers the phone and greets Arabella Figg warmly, if a bit surprised.

“Oh I was just about to send Harry over! Yes I’ll tell Dudley you wished him a ha- What? One of your cats is ill . . . and you cannot watch Harry? Oh how horrible. . . Yes, I wish Ms. Tibbles a quick recovery. Have a good day Arabella. Bye.” Petunia put the phone back with a click and Dudley immediately began to loudly complain, having heard the conversation.

“You can’t let him come! He’ll ruin everything! All the animals will run away when they see him, I won’t get to see any of them!”

Harry, who was thinking about how this day was not going to be enjoyable in the least, despite him liking animals, stopped at Dudley’s obvious quip at Harry’s looks. Rude.

“We’ll keep the boy on a tight leash now Dudley. You won’t even know he’s there! Now let’s head over before the crowds get too big. We’ll even let you go to the giftshop for graciously allowing Harry to come with you on your birthday outing.” Vernon said, while giving Harry a scathing look as he said the last bit. Gladly, the promise of more presents placated Dudley enough for the crocodile tears to stop. Harry idly wondered if crocodiles could actually cry, well they’d probably see some at the zoo. He’d have to make sure they went to their enclosure, as any creature with the capability of crying would do so if they had to see Dudley with his piggy face pressed up against the glass. Checkmate, arsehole.

That’s also why Harry currently felt bad for the giant snake in the reptile house they were now in. The trip to the zoo had been rather uneventful so far, with Vernon making sure Harry never went anywhere near the enclosures before Dudley had his gander. Like he actually believed the rather unamused lions or frankly sad looking elephants would run at the sight of a small and malnourished child. The lions actually paid quite a bit of attention to Dudley, licking their maws like they were expecting a rather juicy hunk of meat. Harry did not have to ponder too hard as to why. Okay maybe he was getting a bit mean, but Dudley had started on the looks bit first.

Harry walked up to the rather massive snake’s enclosure once Dudley had got bored of slamming his hammy fists against the glass to try and wake the obviously slumbering beast. He propped up his elbows on the railing and sighed, feeling quite bad for the creature, and vocalized such.

“I’d sleep too if I had to see stupid and ugly humans all day, I hope the zoo at least treats you well enough to make it worth it.”

The snake, a 26ft reticulated python, as said by the plaque next to the cage, opened its slitted eyes and lifted its head up to peer at Harry. It shook its head and hissed out:

“It’sss preposteroussss! They feed me no ratssss! No rabbitsss! Not even juicccy mousssesss!! Jusssst dirty piggiesss and birdsss. Not tassssty! My little sssun is not warm enough and my room is too sssmalll!”

The python was huffing and hissing in displeasure, Harry found it quite amusing.

“I rather agree, it’s cruel that they’re not treating you well. If only I could whisk you away from it all, I’d love a new friend. What is your name?”

Snakes didn’t often have names, as they did not have much use for them, but Harry assumed the zookeepers had given her one.

“Sssuch a kind ssspeaker! For that I will graccce you with my name, I am called Nagini.”

“What a pretty name, very fitting for a lovely creature such as yourself. I’d get you out of here myself, but I don’t think-”

Harry’s words were cut off by a harsh shove that left him splayed out on the cold concrete floor.
He shook his head and propped himself up his elbows to see who pushed him. Of course, Dudley had to come in and ruin his fun, he now had his face pressed against the glass barrier of the enclosure and was talking loudly about how the ‘ugly beast’ finally woken up. Harry was about to mutter his own snipe at the boy, under his breath of course, but Nagini beat him to it.

“Did this oversssized gopher in a ssssweater-vest jusst call me ugly??”

It was just a tiny chuckle; a barely even audible snigger that Harry let slip out, but it was just enough. Fate was apparently a smug bastard that day. The glass that Dudley was pressed up against disappeared as if it were never there, and he landed head first into the small pool of water situated at the bottom of the enclosure. Sensing her new means of escape, Nagini slithered her massive body out of her prison and into the main hallway of the now chaotic reptile house. She flopped down rather unceremoniously in front of Harry before saying:

“Thankssss for the eassy way out. I was thissssss closse to jussst eating one of the zoo keepersss. Kevin looked rather tassssty. Anywayss, sssee you around ssspeaker. Ssssssayonara~”

Nagini slithered away while hissing at the screaming zoo goers who fled the building too close to her. ‘Huh’, Harry thought as he watched her tail disappear out the reptile house’s doors, ‘yah she definitely would not have fit in the cupboard. There goes those that idea. Maybe the shed?’

“DUDLEY! MY BOY!!”

Harry bolted up off the ground as he took in the sight in front of him. Apparently the glass had come back from whatever magic dimension it buggered off to, with Dudley still inside the enclosure. He was now banging on said glass and screaming and crying for his mum while Petunia cried out in equal vigor on the opposite side. Harry merely smirked at the sight and immediately regretted it when Vernon, who was now fuming and looking for someone to blame, set his sights on Harry. As if a 10 year old boy could have suddenly defied the laws of nature and magicked the glass away and back. It was entirely true, but Vernon was not supposed to know that. Something in his look, however, made Harry question how much he could rely on that supposed ignorance.

They had just made it home when Vernon dragged Harry harshly by the arm and out of the car and into the house. Petunia trailed behind them with Dudley wrapped in her arms and a towel that the zoo staff had apologetically provided for them. Vernon was angrier than Harry had ever seen him, his face practically purple with how red it had gotten with ire.

“WHAT HAPPENED?!” Vernon bellowed once the door finally shut and Petunia and Dudley had gone upstairs.

“I don’t know, sir.” Harry replied in his usual apathetic tone. The one he reserved specifically for anyone that wasn’t his serpent companion, who had remained conveniently silent throughout this entire ideal.

“I know you had something to do with it! I thought taking you in from those freaks would cut you off from whatever freakish things they can do! You were just waiting weren’t you, you ungrateful bastard of a child! This will not become a trend, even if I have to beat it out of you!”

Vernon ripped open the cupboard and all but threw Harry inside, his head slamming against the opposing wall. He heard the cupboard lock before Vernon's thundering footsteps quickly faded away from earshot. He laid there for a bit, cradling his now bruised head and thinking on the bombshell that his uncle just dropped. Harry didn’t think about his parents often anymore, as even his strange soul christening didn’t provide him with any more material on their existence. He still felt that warmth that he associated with the thought of them, however he remained only having those vague golden memories of a time well past. Toad thought their names were vaguely familiar when he had asked, but wasn’t sure if that was because of his past or a remnant of his time plastered to Harry’s core.

Harry didn’t even know if they were wizards or muggles, but he had always more or less assumed the latter. How could wizards die in a car crash? Why would they even be in a car if so many other forms of magical transportation existed. Like flying on a broom or that glorified teleporting that Toad calls ‘apparition’. His uncle’s words, however, made Harry question if his family knew more than they let on about wixen, and his parents.

“If that walrus ever lays a hand on you I’ll find some way to become 3-dimensional and bite him.”

“That’s a nice thought Toady.” Harry said through a yawn as he felt his mind succumb to sleep. He’d need all the energy possible to keep from rolling his eyes out of his head later when Dudley would inevitably milk every ounce of benefit from ‘almost being eaten by a giant snake’ these next couple days.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later, Harry was now lightly dozing in a tree after another successful pillaging of the neighborhood gardens. He was resting his head against the juncture of the trunk and the branch while his legs were locked on either side of the latter. It was a slightly cloudy summer's day, and the gentle breeze that ruffled Harry’s mop of gravity defying locks kept him cool. It had taken a week for Vernon or Petunia to finally let Harry leave their sight after the zoo incident. Like they were expecting him to disappear the windows or the glassware next. Apparently, Harry had kept up his calm and comatose and definitely not magical act long enough for them to finally lose interest.

He hadn’t noticed when he had slipped into sleep until he had woken up. He tried to avoid actually sleeping while up in trees as he usually woke up with a start at the bottom with a couple new bruises. He felt a heavy weight draped atop him, it trapped him against the tree he still felt against his back. He opened his sleep crusted eyes to two slitted yellow ones. He yelped and jerked his body in surprise, but was prevented from actually moving due to the ever present weight.

“Niccce to ssssee you again, my little ssssssun.”

“Nagini?!?”

Nagini backed her head up a bit and Harry saw that it was her large coils that wrapped around him and the branch that was pinning him down.

“One, you just scared the absolute wits out of me. Don’t do that again. Two, how are you even here right now? I assumed you’d be well on your way to somewhere far from here. Assumably, somewhere with more sun and larger, tastier rodents.”

“Apologiesss my sssssun, and yessss, that wassss ssupposed to be the plan. I, however, was feeling quite gracious and decided that locating you and protecting you from thosse sssssmelly gopher people would be a much better ussse of my time.” said Nagini with an air of superiority.

“Oh really?” replied Harry in a semi-mocking tone. “How kind-hearted and selfless of you, and how do you plan on protecting me without getting yourself dragged right back to the zoo?”

“I’ll sssimply eat anyone who triess. Thisss should be quite obviouss, my ssssun.”

“Oh of course. Silly me. By the way, why do you keep calling me your son? Last time I checked my mum was human and also not called Nagini.”

“Not ssson, my sssssun. You are warm and bright like my own little sssun, sssso very warm.” Nagini said as she snuggled her large head into Harry’s chest.

“I hear parseltongue, who is there?” said Toad’s voice from somewhere under Harry’s shirt.

“You’ve got competition Toady, I now have a snake friend that can bite people for me.”

“Next time, I’m gonna test if I can bite you in the core instead. How about that wise-arse?”

“No! No thank you please. . .” Harry squeaked out. He imagined that would absolutely not be pleasant.

“Why do you have an invisible sssnake threatening you, my ssssun? I cannot sssmell them.”

“Did she just call you her son??”

‘This is going to take a while’, thought Harry as he thumped his head back in exasperation.

Chapter Text

When misunderstandings were set straight and introductions were made, it was decided that Nagini would reside in the family's shed for the time being. Staying inside when it was day and slinking out to hunt under the cover of night. Harry was the only one who went in the shed, as he did all the yardwork, so there was little chance of someone coming across the wayward reptile. There was also no night life in a middle-class suburban neighborhood, so she was free to hunt any creature she came across without fear of discovery, minus any domestic animals of course. It was a loophole to that rule, however, that ended up working in Harry’s favor.

It was now nearing the end of July, it was currently Wednesday morning and Harry had gone to the front door to pick up the post to bring back to his uncle. He was not one to look through the mail as he had no interest in bills or letters that were never addressed to him, so he quickly scooped up the pile that lay under the mail slot and made his way back to the breakfast table. He handed the post over to his uncle as he chatted with Petunia about some dreadful member of parliament. Harry could not have cared less about the topic and quickly made his way over to the pantry to find something edible.

When he emerged after finding some stale peanut butter crackers, he noticed his uncle was no longer at the table and his aunt had a tight-lipped expression on her face. He didn’t have to search far as his uncle was currently poking a fire in the sitting room's fireplace despite it being a quite warm day. Dudley was munching on his breakfast as if nothing was amiss, so Harry, despite being curious, was not curious enough to really care about his relatives' strange behavior. He also felt any questions would most likely be met with no answers and anger. His uncle and aunt remained in a tense mood throughout the day, snipping at him more than what was usual. He sported many new bruises from harsh shoves and yanking hands once he laid down to sleep that night. Talking with Toad always made Harry feel a little better when things became rough, but Toad was quite suspicious of their behavior.

“I have a feeling Harry, it has to be related. If this damn memory of mine would just give me the bloody answer!-”

“We won’t know anything until we get more information. There’s no use in twisting your tail over it. Besides, you said whatever’s going to happen will occur around my 11th birthday. It could happen after for all we know, and we don’t, so lay off it.” Harry grumbled as took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. He wasn’t in the best of moods, and Toad could be persistent when he was frustrated.

“Let’s go ask Nagini tomorrow morning, see if she’s seen or smelled anything off lately. As much as I loathe her arrogance, she is still a snake, and snakes are observant. Besides, your mummy would love to have her son pop in for a visit.” Toad teased as he slithered lazily around one of Harry’s bare legs.

“You’re never going to let that go are you?” Harry groaned.

“Never, the answer is never.”
If a snake could smirk, well, you get the picture.

“Great, wonderful to hear. Let me sleep.”

The next morning came too quickly in Harry’s opinion, but keeping to Toad’s plan, he quickly made and endured breakfast and set off for the shed. He usually did all the garden work in the cool mornings anyway, so his actions would be seen as non-suspicious by any would-be spectators. The grass was wet with shimmering dew and his ratty converse and thin socks were quickly soaked through by the time he reached the shed's wooden door. However, any thoughts of the universally hated phenomenon of wet footwear was forgotten when Harry laid his eyes on a bloodied Nagini curled up under the shed’s work table.

He was about to run over to check the damage when a high pitched shriek permeated the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the shed. He whirled his head around to the direction of the noise when he noticed there was another occupant of the shed, a rather miffed looking barn owl. Its feathers were puffed up and its beak clacked in obvious distress, its large black eyes locked onto Nagini. It was clung onto a hook meant for garden tools, but was serving as this owl's only means of survival. Harry was no fool to what had occurred and he leveled Nagini with a glare.

“Why on earth would you try to eat an owl? I thought you hated birds. Something about, and I quote, ‘their deceiving feathers hiding how little flesh they have for me to enjoy’.”

“I did no sssuch thing! I captured thisss beasst becausse it was ssssitting in my favorite tree, and also ssspying on you! I, like your knightresssss in sshining ssscalesss, caught the foul bird and was gruesssomely mained in the processs. My poor, beautiful face was gouged by that bloody pigeon and you don’t even look worried! I nearly died, I did!”

“Her flare for the dramatics never ceases to amuse me.” whispers Toad from Harry’s neck.

Harry looked at the owl once more before walking over and dropping down beside Nagini. There were indeed some light scratches and gouges to the scaled flesh around her face and head, but nothing that couldn’t just be cleaned up. While cooing at Nagini and indulging her wounded act, he quickly got a clean rag and some soapy water from the house and washed the injuries with care. When Nagini was taken care of, he set his sights back on the owl, who had since calmed down a bit. Its intelligent eyes still flickered to Nagini every so often, but now its focus seemed to be on Harry. He began to wonder how he was going to get the owl out of the shed without losing an eye when he spotted something wrapped around his leg. It seemed to be a piece of rolled up parchment fastened to the bird with a red piece of string.

Harry began to slowly make his way to the creature, so as to not startle it, and tried to talk to it softly.

“Hey there owl . . . I don’t suppose you’ll let me take that little paper off your talons without you trying to violently peck at any of my soft bits, yeah? I’m really sorry about Nagini, she’s quite lovely if you get to know her. Actually that’s not at all true, she is quite rude sometimes.”

The owl gave Harry a look that said “Oh really?”. It then stuck out its leg and Harry carefully unraveled the string that held what he could now see was a letter from the raptor. It snapped its beak once again like a huff of annoyance and launched itself off the hook, over Harry’s head, and out the shed door that Harry had left ajar. He stared at the open door for a second more before bringing his focus back onto the letter in his hands. It bore a blood red wax sigil with an unfamiliar coat of arms, a large H sat in its center. He flipped over the letter and he felt the blood drain from his face, his heart pounding in ears. The letter was addressed to a Mr. H. Potter, but that wasn’t the concerning bit, it was the location listed:

“The Cupboard under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.”

“Oh, as opposed to the cupboard over the stairs. Definitely a mistake you can make that requires proper emphasis. Maybe that owl really was spying on me and Nagini was truly only half mad about her stolen perch.” Harry muttered.

“Harry, open it.” said Toad in a tone Harry had never heard come from the entity. It was breathless in a way, almost in awe. Harry did indeed plan on opening it, but Toad's behavior made his very core ripple with anticipation. He carefully popped off the seal and slid out the envelope's contents. It was two papers, and Harry began reading the first one. As he read his expression began to shift into a confused frown. It was an acceptance letter, for a school called Hogwarts. Well, not just any school, a school for witchcraft and wizardry. Now that’s something you need to emphasize.

“I never thought I’d see one again. This, this Harry, is what we've been waiting for. This will be your ssalvation, ssssafety, and ssssuccess.”

“How? You know the Dursley’s would never let me go to something like that.” said Harry as he shifted to sit down next to a now snoozing Nagini.

“Hogwarts has an orphan fund for anyone who cannot pay and it’s up to your magical guardian whether you attend any magical school, not your muggle guardians.”

“But I don’t have a magical guardian. Besides, how do you even get there? There isn't an address on here.” Harry replied as he flipped over to check the next page. It was a list of things needed for the 1st school year. These were definitely not things you could buy at the shops.

“Yes. . . that is strange. They would have sent a school representative if you were muggleborn, not a letter. That means that your muggle guardians would already know about the magical world, but even if that’s true you would still have a magical guardian.”

“Why do you suddenly know all this stuff? Also, what exactly is a magical guardian?

“It was the sight of the letter that brought this information from the tresses of my psyche. It almost feels like a dust covered book long hidden in a dark place had been found and opened. Like I already was supposed to know this, but I still don’t know why or how. To answer your other question, a magical guardian is a wizard or witch assigned to a muggleborn once they are discovered by the Ministry of Magic.

Accidental magic from children is usually picked up by complex charms that are placed in and around muggle communities in order to find muggleborns as soon as possible, as they are a risk to the statute of secrecy. Accidental magic isn’t always strong enough to be detected and accidental magic isn’t a guarantee for all muggleborns, but it's the only method we have.

The guardians are usually ministry workers or professors from the local magic school that inform the muggleborn and their family of the magical world and forge the unbreakable vow with them to not share any of the information they are given. They watch the family and assure the magical child is cared for properly, they act almost like a godparent in a sense.”

“So mine either doesn’t exist for whatever nefarious reason or they're a deadbeat. Oh how lovely.”

“Well I say you don’t need one. I am perfectly capable of providing what is needed, I practically raised you since my emergence anyway. Quiet well, might I add. You have yet to die or be grievously injured physically or psychologically.” Toad said quite proudly from his position on Harry’s now propped up arm. His forked tongue flicking out once in self-approval.

“How lucky I am.” replied Harry in the most sarcastic tone a pre-teen could possibly muster.

“Cheeky. If i’m such a incompetent guardian, then who will tell poor little Harry how to get everything for his schooling. I heard wizarding shops have all sorts of neat things. Books on any topic you could ever dream of, magical trinkets with all sorts of uses, oh, and of course a wizarding wand. The one thing a young wizard like yourself needs to begin their journey on harnessing their extremely temperamental and frankly reality denying magical essence.” Toad said, his speech taking on an annoyed tone when biting out the last bit, but his words still had the desired effect on the boy.

“Okay okay, fine you're the best two dimensional snake guardian a wizard orphan could ask for, where do we have to go??” Harry replied, an excited smile etching its way onto his face as his emerald eyes almost glowed with childish mirth.

Toad paused for a moment as he looked up at Harry, taking in the joy he felt pulsing out of the boy’s very being like blood from a beating heart. He felt he could close his serpentine eyes and rest forever in the endless warmth and comfort of it. It was as if Mother Magic herself were gently running her hands over Toad's inked scales. He would make sure this pure soul experienced as much happiness in his life as was possible, even if it ended his poor excuse of a life.

“Well Mr. Potter, have I ever told you about the Knight bus?”