Chapter Text
After another average day of having his glasses broken by Dudley, being shoved around by Uncle Vernon, and forced to clean the house spotless by Aunt Petunia, Harry decided he couldn’t take it anymore.
Harry, in all his short years of life, had run away from the Dursleys a handful a times, only returning after nice strangers persuaded him to.
All his attempts were not in vain, however, as the nice strangers always bought him a nice, hot meal before dumping him back on the Dursleys doorstep. So no matter how bad the punishments got, he at least had the chance to eat a full meal.
With this mindset in place, Harry pulled himself upright in his dark cupboard and pulled out a small, broken flashlight he had taken from the neighbours garbage bin. He looked out the hole in the cupboard door, letting out a relieved exhale at the darkness infront of him. The telly was off, and it meant Uncle Vernon was asleep.
The cupboard was locked, but Harry unlocked it with practised ease, staring intensely at the lock and feeling a small force pull from him, like the pulling of a needle while halfheartedly sewing a torn hand-me-down. He knew the Dursleys would punish him for his secret act of freakishness, but paid no mind to it as he quietly stepped out, only taking the broken flashlight, two old toy soldiers, and five quid he nicked from the living room while Aunt Petunia was distracted. Placing his little belongings in the large pockets of Dudleys old trousers, he treaded towards the front door.
Forcing down the anxiety crawling up his chest, he opened the door, peeping his head out and checking for Ms. Figgs concealed window. He took silent, little steps, increasing his speed the further he got from the doorstep before making a run for it. He felt a familiar force trying to pull him back, the boy ignored it, focused on his feet hitting the hard asphalt as fast as he could.
Harry ran. And ran. Running until he couldn’t run anymore. The wind blew through his unruly hair, hitting his face yet it made him feel as if a set of chains on him just broke, as all the other times. His breathing synced with the cold breeze and his thoughts flickered from his rapidly moving body and Im free.
He tripped, he scraped his knee, he lost his glasses, yet he kept running, kept moving forward, kept going further until his small legs gave out near an empty park.
The small boy let out a neglected cry as he crashed onto the dry grass. Slowly, he pulled himself up to rest on the ground, his knees burning and his feet stinging. With slightly shaking hands, he brushed his fringe off his sweaty forehead and pulled out his flashlight. It only provided a small amount of light, but it was enough for Harry.
He had stepped on small shards of glass and multiple rough pebbles while fleeing from the Dursleys, and he whimpered at the sharp pain that shot through his legs as the adrenaline wore off.
Painfully pulling out the shards and wrapping long pieces of the threadbare cloth he bit off of his shirt around his feet, he managed to crawl behind a tree, hugging his legs to his chest and wiping away unwanted tears from his face. Because freaks aren’t allowed to cry.
Taking heavy breaths, he hung his head back and rested against the tree. Maybe this time the kind strangers wouldnt drop him off back at the Dursleys. Maybe this time someone would find him and take him in. Maybe he would land in an orphanage, just like how Aunt Petunia had promised him. Maybe, just maybe.
He glanced around the park, taking in the dark gloom of the night settling over his blurry surroundings. His glasses were long gone, having fallen as somewhere back in Privet Drive. He noticed something in the grass approaching him. Grabbing his flashlight, the small light casted over a long, moving… rope? No, it was a snake. The snake slithered closer to Harry, as Harry hugged his legs closer to himself.
The snake hissed quietly, and Harry almost thought he heard whispers of actual words from the snake.
“…Hatchling, what hassss brought you here?”
No, Harry hadn’t thought it, the snake was speaking to him.
His eyes widened and the snake kept moving closer.
His mouth opened before he could stop. “…Hello? Are you sssspeaking to me?” he felt himself prolonging the S sounds almost naturally.
“Yessss, who elsse, hatchling?”