Herpetology

Warm. And soft.

Those were the first two thoughts that managed to penetrate the fog of sleep in Herpo's mind as he drifted back into consciousness. The ground beneath him was deliciously, wonderfully soft, as was the blanket wrapped around him. That was also warm, though even the air seemed to be warmer than it should be in his cave.

It took longer to penetrate that it was too soft, too warm, and he was NOT in his cave.

His eyes snapped open. The blanket he clutched was not the usual ragged cloth he knew, but a thick, plush material he was unfamiliar with, colored in vibrant reds and golds. The air was too warm, and belonged to some room that should be wholly unfamiliar to him, but he gradually recalled the events of the previous day. He was in... Britain. Twenty-five (give or take) centuries in the future.

And there was a soft rapping at the door.

Ginny had awakened early and gone down to the kitchen to find her mother already busy, then been asked whether she'd mind taking breakfast up to Herpo before he could get out of bed, and perhaps staying to eat with him, in an effort to keep him resting and perhaps make him more comfortable -- with someone who wasn't a Parselmouth. (And besides, it wouldn't be fair to make Harry play liaison now they had the language barrier lifted, would it?)

So it was the same girl who'd found him in the garden who opened the door when Herpo cautiously called out, "Yes?"

"Good morning." Ginny brought over the laden tray. "Mum sent me up with breakfast. Did you sleep well?"

"Better than in... a very long time," Herpo answered slowly, his nostrils twitching slightly at the scents wafting from the tray she carried. He tried not to look too hopeful as she approached.

Ginny gave him a smile that was friendly and, she hoped, not so sympathetic as to be taken for pity and give offense, and set the tray down on the bed -- its short legs adjusted themselves hastily to keep the flat part level on the soft mattress -- and took the cover off, surveying the crowded surface with amusement. "Well, she did say she was sending up enough for two. Apparently she meant two of my brothers." The smile changed into a slight grin. "Do you mind if I eat with you? It's fine either way, of course; it's just Mum didn't want to make you get up, but we thought you might like to have some company."

"Of course not. I would be pleased to have your company. Though," he added with what might be a slightly shy smile, "I am still growing accustomed to your land. In my home, women do not eat with men."

Ginny blinked. "Oh, dear. Well, obviously we do here -- and I've got six brothers, so it's strange for me not having boys around -- but I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Not uncomfortable. No more so than this whole experience," he amended with a small shrug. "I hope I am dealing with being transported so far from all I know or consider familiar well, but truthfully it is hard to tell." He shrugged again. "I did not mean to tell you to leave; only compare the differences."

"All right then." She smiled at him, then waved a hand at the tray. "Well... let's eat, shall we?" She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled one of the plates into her lap. "I imagine it must be very confusing."

"Extremely. No less so because...I have had little contact recently with people, even in my own land and time."

"Harry did mention that you'd... given him that idea."

He shrugged, taking a bite of some kind of toasted bread, judging it the most familiar. "Though it has clearly changed over time and distance, Parselmouths were... greatly mistrusted."

"A lot of people still think it's a sign of a Dark wizard," Ginny admitted slowly.

"...I should have known it could not have changed so much."

"It didn't help that the most recent Dark Lord to try to take over was one... Harry only just recently got rid of him for good." She smiled a bit. "And obviously Harry isn't a Dark wizard. But the only other Parselmouths I know about are Salazar Slytherin -- who lived a thousand years ago and helped Found our school, but he left -- and of course you, and the ones who're in the textbooks as sources in the chapters on magical serpents."

She paused thoughtfully. "I've never heard anything bad about the ones in the textbooks. Unless you count that one of them snored, and I only know that because he said a Runespoor complained about it."

Herpo poked at his food for a long moment, not looking at his companion. Finally he asked in a low voice, still not looking up, "And what is it these books say of me?"

Ginny swallowed and set her fork down. "They describe how you created the first basilisks," she said, and thought about stopping there but didn't, "and say you set them on the nearby villages and countryside, and that after the basilisks were destroyed you were never found." Very quietly, she finished, "They list you as Herpo the Foul, and yes, they say you were a Dark wizard."

"The Foul," Herpo repeated flatly. "I have been called worse things. I suppose I should be glad it was so mild a name that lasted through the ages."

"...It seems bad enough to me."

"Then you should be grateful you have led such a charmed life," he snapped harshly.

"I spent my first year at Hogwarts trying to get out from V-Voldemort's control and being forced to attack my schoolmates if that makes you feel any better --" Ginny broke off and took a deep breath, biting down on her lip and wishing she could bite the words back from the air. "But it was my own stupidity that got me there," she said more quietly, "and you're right; I've been very lucky, overall. It still doesn't sound mild to me; you don't seem as if you deserve it. You don't seem... what I'd expect of a Dark wizard, either."

"You had friends to wish not to kill. They clearly did not turn you out after your actions. Not your own family, at least. That... is always something to be grateful for."

"I am." She swallowed again. "You... your family sent you away?"

"To speak with serpents is clearly a mark that one is a part of the evilest, most foul magics known. No matter that I have been what I am for as long as I can remember, and did not remember any great evil acts to grant it. I was cursed at birth, apparently. They did what any decent people would have."

Ginny shook her head mutely, feeling vaguely sick. She remembered that in old stories infants might be left out to die of exposure, though presumably Herpo hadn't been turned away quite that young.... She'd been half-wishing he would deny the charge of being a Dark wizard, but no matter what he had or hadn't done, if he'd been hearing that all his life was he really likely to? Or to expect her to believe him, maybe even after she'd talked about Harry? "No," she said softly. "I -- I'm sorry."

A sharp jerk of the shoulder. "No matter. It is long-since done. I lived my life and tried not to attract attention from any. Sometimes I succeeded. Often I did not."

Basilisks, Ginny thought, seemed kind of attention-getting. Then again, they could be subtle if they kept out of, well, sight. "No wonder you looked at me like that in the garden," she said softly.

"And no wonder you all looked at me as you did when you discovered who I was," he replied glumly. "Herpo the Foul, under your own roof."

"...We were, um, surprised... but the thought had crossed my mind when you introduced yourself. You missed Fred's reaction, I take it -- more fascinated than anything else...." She paused. "Well, Fred's a little strange." She hesitated, then put her plate back down and shooed the tray so that it walked out of her way and settled on Herpo's other side, then scooted a little closer and picked up his hand. It was still clammy, though not as much. "You don't match your reputation," she told him quietly.

"Of course I do." He hissed something long and complicated, still not looking at her. "How would anyone see me as anything but Foul? Only my beauties...and they are gone."

"You don't. Most of it seems to be based on the idea that you deliberately sent them out to kill, for one thing. You haven't done anything particularly alarming here -- well, not alarming in the sense of giving the impression you were going to hurt anyone; we were pretty worried about you for a while," she said softly, then squeezed his hand slightly. "And did you forget we didn't do a translation spell for Parseltongue, or did you just not want me to understand?"

"It doesn't matter what I said. It only matters how I said it. That is all that anyone ever saw. Only my precious beauties could see past that, and it is apparently because of them I am known as Foul. But perhaps being known, even for evil, is better than being forgotten..."

Ginny shuddered -- but didn't let go of his hand; he would probably expect her to. "I think... that's a dangerous way to think. And the only reason it matters to me how you said it is because I couldn't understand you."

"You have been very kind to me, but I do not understand you either." He paused, then added softly, "Especially because of that."

"I said some people still think of it as the mark of a Dark wizard. I didn't say we did. I didn't think you'd think we did...unless you thought we were Dark. There's a disturbing thought." She put her other hand over his. "And we've only done," she added wryly, "what decent people ought to do."

"I never thought you were Dark. You have been too kind for that. Although your mother is...the most formidable woman I have ever encountered," Herpo said with a slight smile. "Unusual, I did think you. But not Dark."

"Well, that's a relief." Ginny smiled back. "Mum is... definitely formidable. You spend enough time around the twins, and you'll know why she has to be." She glanced at the tray. "And she'd probably tell me I shouldn't be keeping you from eating."

"It smells so good it seems a shame to waste it," Herpo agreed, nearly smiling again. "My own cooking is not nearly as good. I had considered teaching my serpents to cook instead, but I doubt it would have been very effective."

"I would think," Ginny said, blinking at the rather bizarre mental image his words conjured up, "that the lack of hands might be a problem." Speaking of hands, she released his and slid out of the way so the tray could come back.

Herpo took advantage of the return of his hands to sample more of Molly's creations. He didn't have any idea what most of it was called, but that didn't detract from its taste. "I realize it would be difficult, but I enjoy... long projects." He looked away and took another bite. "I have little else to do."

"Er... you might, now. I don't think we can send you back, so... picking up modern languages might be more useful, long-term, than the translation spell...." She trailed off and shrugged. "Mum will be pleased you like her cooking."

"Languages. Yes, that will be something to learn," he replied, brightening slightly.

Ginny couldn't restrain a giggle. "Sorry. It's just that you sound exactly like our friend, Hermione. She's never more excited than when you give her something new to learn about."

"Ah... she is the one I mistook for a fire elemental?" Herpo asked somewhat sheepishly.

"She'd probably be very amused by that...."

"Amused is better than offended, at any rate. And if your mother would be upset at your not letting me eat, doubtless she would also be that I prevent you from it." He waved his hands at the tray. "There is enough here for a minor horde, is there not?"

Ginny grinned and took her plate back. "My brothers are a minor horde."

"How many siblings do you have, then? It sounds as if I have not met them all."

"Six older brothers. Bill and Charlie, the oldest two, aren't here, and Percy was busy and only came back down for the translation spell."

"You are the youngest, then, as well as the only girl?"

"Yes."

He nodded, and they ate for a time in silence. After a while, he asked, "Tell me truthfully, please -- your mother's wish for me to remain here? Is that only for meals, or all times? I do not wish to offend."

Ginny blinked. "In bed, you mean? That's... until you feel better, really. You look like you do, now, but... well, last night you did seem to be in a bad way."

"A small cold. It was nothing." He shook his head. "Your mother sent you here to watch me, however, yes?"

"No, to bring you food. But it didn't seem like it'd be very nice to bring it up and then leave you shut away in here, and she did think you ought to spend more time resting."

He laughed slightly and shook his head. His laugh was rather unusual -- a strange combination of a hiss and a croak that said clearly he'd spoken only Parseltongue for too long and laughed rarely at all. "I see it will take me more time than I thought to grow accustomed to this place."

"I'm sure you'll manage." Ginny tilted her head. "Did you really think, after meeting Harry, that we'd... mistreat you?"

"...You have been very kind. I just thought you would be more...cautious."

"I... suppose we were a little wary, with the question of whether you might be a Dark wizard, but you... please don't take this the wrong way, but you didn't seem terribly threatening. And even if you had been we certainly couldn't have just left you in the garden."

"You could have... removed me from your garden, without taking me into your home. Most would."

"...If you'd seemed like a threat, maybe we would have... called someone in. You didn't."

"You have my gratitude."

"You're welcome. I'm glad I saw you arrive, really."

"I am as well.... It appears I was most fortunate in my landing area, if I had to be... misplaced." He smiled again, the motion starting to look slightly less alien. "So, tell me of this place I have found myself in."

Ginny blinked. "Well.. where do you want me to start? Britain, the Burrow...? We're near a town called Ottery St. Catchpole; it's mostly Muggle."

"All of them, or any of them. Since it seems I cannot return to my own time and place, it seems prudent to know as much as possible." He paused. "You say your town is mostly Muggle. Is it no longer common, then, for magical and non to live together?"

"Oh. Most wizards live near Muggles, but we've been officially... secret, with exceptions for intermarriage or the families of Muggle-borns of course, for the past few hundred years. Most Muggles don't believe in magic any more, I think."

He laughed. "Not believe in magic? One might as well not believe in the sun!"

"Well, yes, I don't really understand myself, but if they can't do it and never see it... or don't see it often and then pretend it's something else...."

"How strange." Herpo shook his head. "This...Burrow you mentioned, what is it?"

"This house." He gave her an odd look; she laughed. "Yes, I know, it's above ground. But our surname is Weasley, thus 'weasel,' and thus 'Burrow.'"

"Ahhhh. I have heard much stranger namings for one's home. So this is the Burrow and your family lives here... as well as the Parselmouth, though he is not family?"

"Harry... sort of lives here and sort of doesn't, right now. Well, he does, but he's getting ready to find a place of his own."

Herpo suddenly grinned. "So taking in stray Parselmouths is nothing unusual for your mother?"

Ginny couldn't help grinning back; he seemed much more relaxed now, especially if he was joking a bit about it -- and for that matter his face, while still sharper-featured than any Malfoy's, looked a great deal more pleasant whenever he smiled. "Not really, no, at least allowing for the talent itself being unusual."

"That is a good thing, then. I am glad I landed with this family, then."

"We're glad to have you." She looked mischievous. "And that Harry was in at the time, or we might still be gesturing at each other and looking confused."

He chuckled. "It is a unique method for communicating with ancient wizards, I will grant." He shook his head ruefully. "Though thinking of myself as an 'ancient wizard', much less one so famed you would know me all these years later, is still strange."

Basilisks were very memorable, but Ginny didn't want to set him mourning them again. "It's very strange for us too, but naturally not nearly as much. What on earth were you doing to be thrown so far in time -- if you don't mind my asking, that is?"

"As I said, I...have a great deal of time on my hands, and I enjoy projects. I was experimenting." He shrugged. "Successfully, apparently."

Ginny looked at him dubiously over a piece of buttered toast. "This isn't what you meant to do...."

"I did not entirely mean to do anything. I was...playing with some unusual magics. I wasn't entirely sure what they would do."

Ginny considered this. "Don't do it again, please."

"But if I did, I might be able to return home, and protect my beauties.... Or I might kill everyone in the area. That is always a possibility." He frowned. "I shall not attempt it again."

"And I thought the twins' experiments could get dangerous," Ginny said weakly.

"Your brothers are experimenters, then? What kind of experiments do they do?"

"They're practical jokers and keep inventing new ones. If they bring you food, don't eat it."

Herpo looked somewhat alarmed. "I will keep that in mind..."

"Oh, don't be too upset if they do catch you; I don't think there's anyone here they haven't." Ginny omitted to mention her own escapades. "And the Canary Creams are really rather fun."

"What do the Canary Creams do?"

"Turn whoever eats them into a giant canary. It wears off in a little while."

Herpo blinked. "Are you serious?" When she nodded, he laughed. "I should like to see that. Perhaps not experience it, but..."

"It's not particularly uncomfortable; I'll demonstrate sometime if you want. I sing better that way, even if George throws things at me for saying so."

Herpo's eyes flashed. "He should not be throwing things at you."

Ginny sat back a bit, her own eyes widening with startlement. "I didn't mean anything to hurt.... Little things. Or cushions."

"...Oh." Herpo grumbled a bit under his breath and took another bite of some unidentifiable food product. "He still should not do it," he muttered.

"It's... a compliment of sorts. He doesn't think I should say I don't sing well normally," she offered cautiously.

Herpo poked viciously at his food with the fork. "This is your time and your family. You would know better than I what to tolerate."

"The bacon," she told him mildly after watching him attack his meal a few more times, "is already dead." When he started to glance up at her and then returned his gaze sharply to the tray, she frowned a bit and turned to put a hand over his blanketed foot, dropping her own eyes. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "people throwing things has been more serious for you, hasn't it."

"It does not matter."

"Of course it does."

"Why?" The tone of the question was hostile, but the expression in his eyes -- which he tried to keep shuttered -- was not.

Ginny half-shook her head; she'd come to watch faces very carefully, ever since the diary, and the way Herpo was looking at her (and trying hard not to) made her want to hug him. "Because... it does. Because you were hurt."

"I never said that," he snapped.

Ginny thought back quickly. "...No, you didn't."

"Then why do you say it?"

She turned a bit of egg over with her fork. "I can't imagine that it wouldn't hurt, one way or another, to have people hate you enough to call names and throw things at you. Especially as many as it sounds like there were. And... I'd be surprised if they never hit."

"...Ah." He was silent for a long moment, eating the...bacon, she'd called it. "I'm sorry, I should not have shouted."

"It's all right. I shouldn't have upset you -- though I didn't mean to, either." She patted his foot through the blanket again, then went back to her meal. After a slight hesitation, she asked, "Herpo... why did you think I said it?"

"...You have been nothing but kind since I met you. I should not have shouted at you."

"I told you, that's all right."

He shrugged.

"And I should have thought more before I spoke. So I'm sorry too."

"Please stop apologizing," Herpo said in a pained voice. "You did nothing wrong. I assumed motives for you which clearly did not exist."

"I suppose I'm prying, but.... what were they?"

He shrugged once again. "The usual. Cruelty and malice."

Ginny winced. "I was thoughtless, obviously. I didn't mean to be cruel."

"As I said, I ascribed motives to you which apparently did not exist. You have been nothing but kind. I apologize." He sighed and poked at his food some more. Finally he said softly, "Yes, I was hurt. Not so often physically. I was good at dodging, except when I was young."

As he still didn't seem particularly old -- not older than her brothers, at least -- this was a rather depressing statement.

"You still are young, I thought...." Maybe not by the standards of his time, though. "At least, there is a reason Mum keeps... mothering at you."

"Young in body, perhaps," he replied ruefully. "Not in spirit."

Ginny sighed and gave him a rather sad smile. "I didn't start out trying to bring up unpleasant memories," she said after a moment, "but... may I ask you something else?"

"...If you like. I... may not answer."

"That's fair." She set her empty plate aside and bit her lip. "Was... something thrown what caused the 'old injury' that Ron accidentally ran into last night?"

A pause, in which Herpo finished up the last few bites of his own meal and sent his plate to join Ginny's. Then, "Yes. A rock. It still pains me sometimes." Another pause, then he smiled slightly. "The injury, not the rock."

She nodded. "If it's still bothering you it must have been an especially bad hit...."

"It...was not pleasant, no. I survived it."

"Obviously." Get to the point, she thought sternly to herself. "I was wondering, as well, if you'd be willing to let someone here look at it. You don't have to answer right away, of course -- but if you want to think about it... there might be something we could do to help. I don't know, of course."

"I am a fairly good healer in my own right. Of necessity," he added with a tinge of bitterness. "I have dealt with it as much as it can be."

"I'm sure you are -- but that's 'as much as it can be' by yourself, presumably while you were distracted by the pain, in an awkward spot, and quite a long time ago. There have been some new healing spells and potions invented since."

He smiled slightly. "I suppose...there have been many changes I have not thought of. If...it would not be too much trouble..."

"It wouldn't. It was our idea, after all."

"...Very well. Again you are kinder to me than I deserve."

Ginny shook her head at him. "Not really. We...." She stopped, looking at him closely, and then asked with a wince, "Oh, Herpo. You don't believe what they said about you, do you?"

He frowned at her. "What?"

Ginny seriously considered biting her tongue very hard before the ease of using it got her into any more trouble. Feeling rather foolish, she explained falteringly, "I'm... sorry. It's just that... some of the things you say... sound as if you at least halfway believe the... the insults."

He looked at her with no expression and said flatly, "They say I am evil. You say I am the Foul. For what? Speaking to snakes and raising my beauties. Both, I am guilty of."

Ginny looked down at her hands for a moment. "It's not... I'm probably not very objective about basilisks, but it was supposedly attacking people with them, not having them at all, that... that you've been blamed for in the histories." She raised her eyes. "But I'm not going to call you that; and talking to snakes is -- fine. It doesn't mean you deserve... stones and harsh words."

He shrugged. "Who is to say?"

"You don't," she repeated quietly.

"Things here are different," he said dismissively.

"I can't argue with that, but it doesn't mean you deserved it then either."

He shrugged. "Enough. I have eaten, I am rested. May I now leave this room?"

Ginny did bite her tongue this time, but her shoulders slumped just a bit as she pushed off the edge of the bed to stand up and pick up the tray. "Of course, if you want to. There are slippers beside the bed."

"Thank you." He stood -- somewhat shaky, but only for a moment -- and slipped on the odd footwear she referred to. Then he hesitated, and at last looked back at her. "Now I find I am not sure where to go," he confessed.

"I suppose that depends on what you want to do... probably everyone will be in and out of the kitchen and living room for a while...."

He nodded. "Excellent. And the..living room? This is the room I was in last night?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Excellent." He paused, then asked hesitantly, "And you will come as well?"

"Sure." Ginny remembered to smile again and decided she must not have offended him too badly. "I don't really want to spend all day in my room, either."

"Good." Herpo held the door open for Ginny, as her hands were full of the tray, and followed her down the stairs.

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