OoO

A Different Path: The Sorcerer's Stone

By Dishonorable

Chapter Six: The Most Terrible Poverty

If you are here, then you have decided that Harry will follow the Dursleys from Chapter Two. Chapter Two has been edited; you will be very confused if you do not go back and reread. Thank you.

AN: Hagrid scene and dialogue and the first part heavily based on HP&SS chapter two and four. Chapter title based on a quote of Mother Teresa of Calcutta, ( “The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved.”)

Parseltongue.

OoO

The cool, dark reptile house provided relief from the Sun that had Uncle Vernon sweating like a pig. To Harry's surprise, it was very nearly empty. He had thought this would be a popular attraction, next to the lions, but there was only an elderly woman staring curiously at the plaque next to an entanglement of small snakes.

Dudley quickly found the most interesting snake, (at least to him); the largest one there who looked like it could amazingly wrap around Uncle Vernon several times and kill him in one small squeeze. Unfortunately for Dudley, it was sleeping and didn't look as if it was even going to hiss boo.

Even Uncle Vernon's pudgy fingers tapping on the glass wouldn't wake it up to Dudley's and Piers's displeasure. They eventually moved on with a last disgusted glare at the snake. Harry, however, remained at the case. It must be awful to be the snake, always having to remain in its tank with only stupid gawkers rapping on the glass, and disturbing it.

Harry twitched just barely as the snake suddenly opened its eyes. It might've been Harry's imagination, but he could've sworn he heard: “I get that all the time...idiots with you?”

He looked quickly around to make sure no one was looking and hesitantly said back, “Unfortunately.”

The response wasn't nearly as surprising as the first...it felt almost natural for some strange reason.

“Your life must be nearly as horrible as mine.”

“Were you captured or bred here?” Harry asked curiously. He didn't know which would be worse, having a taste of freedom and then having it snatched away, or forever living in such a manner for your whole life.

“Bred...I've always wanted to go to Brazil,” the snake jabbed its tail to a plaque that declared its species' origin.

“Dudley!” came Piers's obnoxiously loud call, “Mr. Dursley! Come see what the snake's doing! You wouldn't believe it!”

Dudley trudged toward them as quickly as he could, “Out of the way, freak,” he caught Harry by surprise with a punch to the ribs, which sent him toppling to the ground. Nobody was sure how it had happened, but it did within a blink of the eye. One moment, the glass was there and dandy, and the next, it was going.

Dudley and Piers, who had been leaning in eagerly to the glass, sprang back with screams of horror. The boa constrictor had already uncoiled itself and was slithering rapidly along the floor. The elderly woman shrieked at the top of her longs and ran out, screaming about a man-eating snake on the loose. The snake's rapid progress led to more screams, but Harry had heard, just as the snake passed him, very encouraging words.

“Here I come Brazil...Thanksss, amigo.”

Amigo was the Spanish word for friend. It may have been out of a rush of gratefulness, but the great snake had called him a friend. The snake had talked to him as an equal...as a friend. No one else had done that out of fear of Dudley or of disinterest or cruelty...and perhaps, just perhaps, if this snake would talk with him and call him amigo, perhaps another one would too...but for now, Harry had to deal with the Dursleys, because he could hear Piers exclaiming, “Harry set it on us! He was talking to it, I heard him!”

It was definitely Harry's imagination when he heard the cupboard doors and belt say, “Long times no see, Potter.”

OoO

“So you're a grass snake,” said Harry interestedly, after doing an excess of yard work and searching and searching for a snake, he had finally came upon one in the backyard.

“Yessss,” agreed the dark green snake. It had a yellow collar behind its head and was apparently female. “And you are a speaker.”

“Who else is a speaker?” asked Harry curiously.

“Hardly anyone has spoken to a snake that I've heard of,” she said, “However, I once heard from my cousin that she knew a snake whose grandfather once spoke with a man...His name was Lord Voldemort...”

Harry shifted uneasily; there was something eerily familiar and evil sounding about that name.

“Well my name is Harry Potter,” explained Harry, “And yours?”

“Flick,” said the snake disinterestedly, she held no great concern for names, “Why do you speakers have such strange names?”

“Your name sounds pretty strange to me.”

“Mine has reason behind it,” she argued, “They say I can kill a rat with only a flick of my head. You, on the other hand, do not look particularly furry and Lord Voldemort did not look very...lordy.”

“Lordy?”

“Human adjectives do not always make the most sense, speaker Harry.”

“Neither do snakes,” retorted Harry, though he didn't really know any snake adjectives.

The snake merely flicked her tail with irritation, “Yes, well...did you need anything speaker?”

“I only wanted to talk...why would I need something of you?”

Her tail flicked with irritation again, “I don't know, it was always told that us snakes are supposed to obey speakers unless they clearly mean harm toward us.”

“Why?”

“I don't-“

“How is that I can even speak to you? I've never done it before except at a zoo once and-“

“I don't know! Why don't you ask this Lord Voldemort?”

“I don't know where he is-“

“Then go find him! Now, if you'll excuse me, my stomach is telling me to go find dinner.”

Harry watched as she slithered away without turning her head around once. He had managed to speak to another snake, though this one had certainly less patience and kindness as the one at the zoo had had.

“Well,” said Harry aloud, unaware that he had switched languages, "Try and try again as the posters say.”

OoO

Setting free the boa constrictor had granted Harry his worst punishment ever. He was shut up in his cupboard except for school, one bathroom break, and excessive chores well into the summer. Things had only worsened when strange letters for him kept on popping up everywhere. Uncle Vernon was appearing to teeter on the edge of sanity as he sought desperately to keep Harry away from the letters that always knew where he slept somehow.

Vernon was clearly on edge as he forced them into a little shack on a large rock out on the sea. He was doing his best from any letters reaching Harry, it showed as he gleefully announced there was a storm forecast.

What was so horrible about letting himself read the letters, Harry wondered. What were they about anyways?...

It was late at night, a few minutes before Harry would turn eleven, almost eleven years since Lord Voldemort had been defeated, though of course Harry didn't know that...

He watched Dudley's watch, (his enormous arm was hanging off his couch/bed as he snored through the storm). Ten seconds...five. Four. Three. Two. One.

He was eleven...eleven years old. What was so significant about it, he didn't know, but it was special, he was special...He knew it. He was a speaker.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!

Harry shot up. How on earth had somebody weathered the storm successfully to be able to knock on the door of the miserable building?

BOOM!

Dudley awoke with a start and a shriek. In the next second, Vernon had barreled into the room, clutching a rifle in his hands.

“Who's there?” he roared, “I'm armed!”

There was a pause, like the eye of the storm that was currently raging around them. Then- SMASH!

The door came flying off to reveal a gigantic man standing in the doorway. He had long, wild hair and an equal beard with warm black eyes that glittered as he squeezed into the shack, his head brushing against the ceiling. Even though he broke the door, at least he had the courtesy enough to pick it up and place it back.

“A cup o' tea would be nice,” he asked gruffly, “S'not been an easy journey.”

He made his way to the sofa where Dudley was frozen.

“Budge up, yeh great lump,” he said, causing Dudley to squeak and hide behind his father and immediately endearing himself to Harry.

“An' here's Harry!” said the giant jovially, his eyes crinkled in a large smile, “Las' time I saw you, yeh was jus' a baby. Yeh look like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes.”

Vernon finally found his voice again, “Leave at once, sir,” he demanded, puffing up and showing off his rifle, “You are breaking and entering!”

“Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune,” replied the large man, grabbing the rifle and bending into a knot easily and tossing it in a corner. Vernon half-squeaked and half-gasped before falling silent again.

“Anyway,” he turned away from the Dursleys to smile again at Harry, “Happy birthday, Harry. Got summat fer yeh here, -I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right.”

He pulled out a slightly squashed box, which upon opening by Harry's fingers revealed a chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry iced in green letters.

“T-thank you,” Harry managed to say, “But who are you?”

The man chuckled a bit to himself, “Rubeus Hagrid, Harry, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.” With a gigantic hand, he reached out and shook Harry's whole arm, “What about that tea, then?”

Once the manner of tea and a few sausages had been settled, (“Don't touch anything, Dudley.”), Harry repeated his curiosity about the giant's identity.

“Call me Hagrid,” the giant said friendly, “Everybody does... An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of the Keys at Hogwarts, -yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course.”

It only led downhill for the Dursleys then. Hagrid was upset to say the least that the Dursleys had sorely neglected to inform Harry of his heritage and fame, and not to mention lying obscenely about Lily and James's death. Eventually, Hagrid had given Harry a very familiar letter that Harry was finally able to open.

He was not only a speaker, he was a wizard. Wait, what if a speaker was in fact a wizard?

“Hagrid,” said Harry, “Can wizards talk to snakes?”

Hagrid recoiled, giving a very strange appearance, “Gallopin' gorgons, Harry, where'd you get that idea?”

Harry's mouth was dry, “Just wondering, Hagrid...”

Hagrid looked as if he knew that Harry wasn't telling the entire truth, but didn't comment, “A very few can, Harry...They're called Parselmouths...Dark wizards mostly...the las' one was the Dark Lord who killed yer parents.”

OoO

Somehow, Harry ended up at Kings Cross with a ticket to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, a wand, a snowy owl, a snake which was hidden around his arm up his sleeve, and absolutely no idea how to get on the train to his new school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. -Hagrid had forgotten to tell him.

“Now what's the platform number?” came a person's voice behind him.

“Nine and three quarters!” said a little girl's high voice, “Oh, mum, can't I go? Pretty please?”

Harry turned around instantly at the girl's announcement of their platform destination. There was a large family of redheads and if their conversation was true then they were magical like Harry.

“You only have one more year of waiting, Ginny,” said the mother, “You go first, Percy.”

A tall boy, probably the eldest by the looks of it, marched importantly to the diving barrier between platforms nine and ten. A pack of tourists swarming about blocked Harry's sight though, but he waited. The others looked of school age too and they would surely get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters via the same way.

A boy named Fred, -no George -no really Fred, went next and then his twin, George. They had both walked briskly to the same place as Percy, but where gone suddenly. Perhaps a magical device transported them to the correct Platform?

“Go ahead, Ron,” the plump mother was looking around for someone as the smallest redhead boy headed in the same direction as his brothers. The woman spotted Harry ducking his head a way and she smiled as she strode toward him.

“Is this your first time going to Hogwarts, dear?” she asked kindly.

“Yes, ma'am,” said Harry, “Do you know how to get onto the platform?”

Her smile deepened as her daughter looked on with brown eyes.

“Don't worry; all you have to do is walk straight at that barrier between platforms nine and ten. You'll go right through to the correct platform. It's best not to stop or be too afraid that you're going to crash. Go ahead, dear.”

“Alright,” said Harry, and the snake around his arm shifted slightly, waking up. He started at a trot and then began to run toward the barrier...and the crash did not come.

There was a scarlet train next to a platform that was packed with witches and wizards, hugging children, handing off items and pets, talking...He walked amongst the crowd, passing a boy who had lost his toad and his grandmother and then a boy with dreadlocks who was surrounded by a small crowd.

“Go on Lee, give us a look.”

He lifted the lid of the box in his arms, and the surrounding crowd shrieked in delight as something poked out a long hairy leg. Harry looked on curiously. Sharing a cupboard with them, had somewhat endeared, or at least allowed him to tolerate spiders and it looked like there was a tarantula in the box. Another leg poked out and the crowd pressed closer, blocking his view and he moved on until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train.

He stowed his snowy owl which had been a gift from Hagrid in first and pulled out his wand. He had looked through his school books previously, out of curiosity and in search of a name for his owl and snake, and had come upon a neat spell.

Squinting his eyes a bit, Harry swished and flicked his wand, reminded of Flick, the second snake he had spoken to, “Wingardium Leviosa,” tried Harry. His trunk didn't move. With a quick look around to make sure no one had saw his pitiful attempt, Harry tried once more, more eager to succeed lest someone see his failure at magic, “Wingardium Leviosa!”

To his delight his trunk rose and followed his wand movement and was stowed in the corner of the compartment.

“Oh, that's the levitation charm!”

Harry turned to see an impressed bushy-haired girl grinning, revealing large front teeth.

“I haven't been able to get that one,” she walked closer and held out her hand brightly, “Hermione Granger, Muggleborn. And you are?”

“Err,” said Harry, a bit overwhelmed by her eager, overbearing manner, “Harry Potter.”

Her eyes lit up, “Oh I've read about you, -I picked up a few extra books besides the required for background reading, and you're in ever so many.”

“I haven't been interviewed,” Harry cautioned, having learned the tale of his rise to fame from Hagrid, “So it might not be that accurate.”

Hermione looked scandalized that anyone would think that nonfiction books wouldn't ever be anything less than accurate.

“Well...” she drawled awkwardly, “Can I sit with you?”

“Err, sure,” said Harry, not sure if he was agreeing to something great or terrible, “Need help with your trunk?”

She brightened, “Yes, thank you, Harry.”

They darted through the crowds, not noticing a disgruntled trio of redheads searching the crowd.

“Here it is,” said Hermione, pulling open a compartment door. It was surprisingly empty except a trunk. There was a pause as Hermione looked expectantly at Harry.

“Oh! Right,” said Harry, swishing and flicking his wand, “Wingardium Leviosa!”

Hermione's trunk rose and Harry carefully floated it back to his compartment as Hermione's brown eyes watched, glittering.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” asked Hermione eagerly once they were settled back in, “I've only managed the Lumos charm and the Aestus estus charm.”

“Alright,” said Harry, beginning to get used to her hyperactive manner, “You make sure you swish and then flick your wand,” Hermione followed his words, directing her wand toward a small fallen feather on a seat, “And say clearly: Wing-gar-dium  Levi-o-sa. I read that it's really important to say it clearly.”

“Wingardium Leviosa!” repeated Hermione loudly and the feather rose a bit before falling back down.

“Don't worry,” Harry attempted to encourage her, “You'll probably get it.”

The “probably” removed the comforting effects as Hermione frowned and tried once more before the compartment door slammed suddenly open to reveal a flustered redhead.

“Can I sit here?” he asked Harry, looking quickly behind his shoulder, “My older brothers are trying to feed me to a giant spider.”

Hermione's eyes widened, but Harry struggled to keep from snickering.

“That's horrible,” Hermione said and the boy scowled at her intrusion. She looked crestfallen, but determinedly ploughed on, “Of course you can sit with us, right Harry?”

“Sure,” Harry said, grinning, “The more the merrier.”

The two other first years didn't notice his sleeve shift and didn't pay any mind when he rubbed his arm.

“I'm Ron,” announced the boy, dumping himself into a seat, “Ron Weasley. And you two are?”

“Hermione Granger,” beamed Hermione, trying once more. She had never had friends at her old school, but perhaps things could be different here. To Harry's surprise Hermione didn't chatter on as he expected and so without further ado, he offered, “Harry Potter.”

Ron's eyes widened largely, giving an air of great surprise.

“Are you really? Fred and George, -my brothers-, said they saw you earlier but I thought they were lying.”

“Nope,” said Harry, thinking that he liked Hermione Granger better than this Ron Weasley. The redhead seemed...rather fake. “I'm really Harry Potter.”

“Neat,” said Ron, grinning, “Wanna go explore?”

Harry noticed Hermione bite her lip; the invitation hadn't included her. He could choose Ron over her, or she over him, or try to include both of them...He, like Hermione, had never had real friends, and this was his chance to have plenty.

“Sure, c'mon, Hermione,” said Harry, jumping up.

Hermione smiled again and followed, but only Harry noticed the temporary scowl on Ron's face...

Later...

The train ride had taken several hours and throughout it Harry met Neville, the boy who was still searching for his toad. Hermione had roped the three of them into helping Neville search. Ron had been extremely disgruntled about this, pulling Harry back once to hiss, “Why did you have to invite her?” Harry could only shrug. What really had set Ron off though, were Draco Malfoy and his goons, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

The blonde had introduced himself to Harry in a snobby tone and Ron had immediately declared him the son of Lucius Malfoy, noted death eater aka dark wizard. This had prompted Crabbe and Goyle to crack their knuckles, Neville to squeak, and Malfoy to offer a hand of friendship to Harry and a way to escape the other three.

From what he had gathered, Harry knew that Parselmouths were seen as dark and as such were probably quite welcome with dark wizards. And so he hesitated. And Malfoy's cold gray eyes had taken in everything.

Though Harry had declined his offer, Malfoy had left in a friendly manner and even Ron's last snide insult didn't prompt him to any nastiness. Perhaps the dark wasn't that bad after all. If it weren't for the fact that Harry had read that the dark were a backstabbing, ambitious lot, it was almost certain that he might've found a way to please both groups...

“Granger, Hermione!”

The stern witch called Professor Minerva McGonagall startled Harry out of his thoughts as she announced his new acquaintance's name.

Hermione stepped out from behind him and walked rapidly to the stool and eagerly jammed the sorting hat on.

After a few minutes, the hat shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Ron Weasley groaned, “Oh no, we're stuck with her.”

Harry didn't bother mentioning that he wasn't entirely certain he was going for Gryffindor. Slytherin didn't look too friendly so that was probably out, but all the other three houses looked alright. Hufflepuff had the bonus of being boasted of justness and loyalty, which are excellent qualities to have in a friend. On the other hand, Gryffindor had already claimed Hermione and now Neville Longbottom. Ravenclaw was a still unknown factor, but Harry didn't really fancy himself as a bookworm.

“Perks, Sally-Anne!”

Only a few seconds later, “RAVENCLAW!”

A roaring applause from the table under a blue and bronze banner depicting an eagle and then -“Potter, Harry!”

“Go for Gryffindor,” Ron Weasley whispered one last time as Harry passed by him and walked quickly over to the stool amidst whispers. The hat dropped over his eyes as soon as he sat down and he waited patiently.

“Hmm...very difficult, you are, Mr. Potter...A good deal of courage...not to mention some smarts and the talent to achieve...and oh my yes, the ambition to achieve success and a place for yourself...what's this?”

Harry gripped the stool tight. Had this magical, mind-reading hat discovered something wrong with his brain?

“Oh...you certainly want a place for yourself...You are certainly very just; though your venom for your living relatives is unfortunate...You're a Parselmouth!” The hat suddenly gasped.

The majority of the hall was quite amused to see Harry Potter go “SHHHHH!” to a silent hat, but were disappointed to not see any follow up.

I don't want anyone to know just yet and judge because of my ability to talk to snakes.

“Sorry, my dear boy,” apologized the hat,”Just a bit of shock, I haven't seen one since-“

Lord Voldemort.

“Takes quite a bit of courage to say that name, Mr. Potter. Tell me, which do you think suits you better, -Gryffindor or Hufflepuff?”

I don't know...Hermione and Neville's in Gryffindor and they seem a friendly lot...but I could still be friends with them if I was in Hufflepuff, couldn't I? The Hufflepuff table seemed alright...and Hagrid called them duffers, maybe the Boy-Who-Lived would boost their reputation? But then again, I could spend more time with Hermione and Neville...and maybe Ron, in Gryffindor...

“Very mixed thinking, Mr. Potter...including Slytherin...but I can see you do not wish to go there...no matter how welcoming the dark arts may be...so I wish you luck when I say there is no other place for you than-HUFFLEPUFF!”

The hat shouted the last word to the whole hall and Harry pulled it off to face the occupants excluding the professors. (Had he turned he would've seen a sneering Potions Professor, a disappointed Headmaster, and beaming Head of Hufflepuff.)

More than the a few Gryffindors at their table looked disappointed at this announcement and Ron looked absolutely flabbergasted...but over on the right, the table under a yellow and black banner depicting a badger had roared into mind-blowing applause.

OoO

Please go to Chapter Nine once it is up.

AN: Warning: Harry is not about to go “Let's all be friends”, become a total passive duffer, or have had become a Hufflepuff without an in-depth reason, (if you didn't catch it this chapter). The Weasleys, like Dumbledore, will not be evil nor totally stupid betrayers.