Something Better Than This

Chapter Seven: Hedges and Compost Heaps

Ginny had not especially wanted to meet Dudley, at least not enough to try to get past her mother's suspicions that this would have a similar result to sending Fred and George back to the house on Privet Drive. Harry couldn't say he exactly wanted to meet Dudley again himself, but Dumbledore had wanted him to visit Aunt Petunia's home one last time before his birthday, so in late July Harry, Ron, and Hermione went alone, dressed as Muggles and with their wands concealed. It was after dinner, since Harry didn't particularly want to force his two best friends to watch Dudley eat. Having them come along with him against Voldemort was more than he could ever have asked, but there was no point making things more disgusting on purpose.

Harry plodded up the walk to Number 4, Privet Drive and knocked on the door. Uncle Vernon opened it, stared at the three of them with bulging eyes... and promptly slammed it shut again in their faces. Muffled shouting came from the other side.

Harry rolled his own eyes at Ron and Hermione, who looked rather miffed. "This is going well."

"Very rude, isn't he?" Hermione said.

"They put bars on Harry's windows the summer before second year," Ron said darkly.

Hermione sniffed. "I thought you said they wanted to look normal, Harry."

"Oh, if you ask them, I'm at school at St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys," Harry explained. "They told Aunt Marge that when she came to visit, too. That would explain bars on the windows, right enough."

Hermione looked outraged; Ron was still smothering chortles when the door opened again, this time with Aunt Petunia on the other side of it. Both of them hastily rearranged their faces into less opinionated expressions.

"Hello, Aunt Petunia," said Harry. "I've come to keep my promise. We'll only be here for a little while."

"I suppose you'd better come in, then." She looked them over anxiously and peered up and down the street, as if expecting to see neighbors peering back in much the way she would herself, committing every detail of possible abnormality to memory. Then she eyed Harry and his friends again, with rather more perplexity. "Are these, er... you know.... You look...."

"These are my best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Ron is from a very nice wizarding family, and Hermione is Muggle-born like Mum," Harry said pleasantly. "Mr. Weasley works in the government, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger are dentists." He hoped he was remembering that last part right. "Ron, Hermione, meet my Aunt Petunia. I suppose Uncle Vernon and Dudley are inside."

Aunt Petunia finally let them in, although she examined the doorstep before shutting the door. Dudley took one look at the new arrivals and went thudding up the stairs, but Uncle Vernon evidently felt that such a retreat was beneath his dignity and remained downstairs, looking blustery.

To Harry's surprise, Hermione stepped forward with a suspiciously bright false smile on her face and extended her hand. "How do you do, Mr. Dursley? I hear you work for Grunnings, the drill company. 'A bit boring, but never dull,' isn't that right? Or so the Grunnings representative from the dental drills division says...."

While Uncle Vernon was, in utter bewilderment, being drawn into holding forth on drills, Harry took advantage of Hermione's diversion, whether it was a sacrifice or her own peculiar sort of prank, and slipped with Aunt Petunia into the kitchen.

"I've got some things I wanted to say to you," he said slowly, putting a hand into his pocket.

"I suppose I can't stop you." Petunia picked up one of the dinner dishes and began washing it with stiff, jerky motions, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

"I don't suppose you have to listen." Harry waited until she set the first plate aside, then picked it up along with a dishtowel and dried it, hiding a smile at her shock and the wary look that probably meant she expected him to dash the plate against the floor and break it into pieces. He kept quiet until they were very nearly done, then began, "I suppose first I ought to thank you for taking me in. I know you never wanted to, or wanted me, and you certainly didn't love me. But from what Professor Dumbledore said, your agreeing to look after me kept me safer than I would have been otherwise, even if you did as little as you could get away with."

"You ought to be grateful," Aunt Petunia snapped, "for--"

"All the sacrifices you made," Harry said tonelessly, "and all the expense of bringing up a second child who wasn't even your own."

Aunt Petunia mouthed at him for a moment. "Yes. That."

"Somehow I don't think you spent much, especially compared to fattening Dudley up like a prize pig. But I suppose it can't have been that easy. So thanks, anyway." He dried the last dish, then his hands, and forestalled whatever Aunt Petunia had been going to answer to that by pulling a wand out of his pocket. But not his own. He laid it on the kitchen counter. "I found your sister's wand," he said. "Do you want it?"

"It's magic," Aunt Petunia said, staring at it.

"I know," Harry said agreeably. "That's sort of the point of a wand. She was good at Charms."

"She was good at everything," said Aunt Petunia bitterly. "It thrilled our parents."

"You said that one time before." Harry ran a finger along the smooth wood. "I don't mind keeping it. I just thought I ought to ask you."

Harry, true to his word, didn't stay very long. Lily Potter's wand, however, remained hidden amongst Aunt Petunia's cleaning supplies, as neither Uncle Vernon nor Dudley was likely to look there. Harry left it with mixed feelings.

On returning to the burrow, he was immediately distracted by a loud, in fact nearly deafening, and rhythmic croaking.

"What on earth," Hermione said, wincing. At least, this was what Harry thought she had said. It was hard to tell.

It was also hard to tell where the croaking was coming from, as it was so loud that it was almost impossible to decide if it was louder in one direction than another. Ron and Hermione started casting about for it anyway; Harry headed for the house instead, plugging his ears, and indoors he found Mrs. Weasley and the twins shouting at one another over the slightly muffled din.

"We didn't mean to!" Fred was protesting.

"Well, you've done it anyway!" Mrs. Weasley yelled back. "Now UNdo it!"

"What did they do?" Harry asked, as loudly as he could.

"Cast a spell to amplify the croaking of every frog and toad in the area!" Mrs. Weasley glowered at her sons. "And to set them all off at the top of their lungs. What they thought to accomplish by this--"

"We'll take it off," George broke in hastily, "if you'll just give us a minute! And then we're going home," he added, scowling. "I mean, back to our own flat. And work on our new products there."

After a few minutes, the deafening croaking was gone, though Harry still heard it ringing faintly in his ears. He caught Ron and Hermione on their way in and directed them back out and away from the ensuing quarrel, meeting Ginny as she came around from another door.

"It's funny," Ginny said, "I can still hear that noise. And I think it got louder again when I came out."

Harry stopped to consider this. "You know, it does sound louder than it did inside...." He turned his head, trying to decide if there was a direction. "Maybe there's one toad still at it?"

They followed the sound, which grew steadily louder though not to nearly the same level as before, and finally tracked it to a spot halfway up a compost heap.

"I don't know why you're holding your nose, Hermione," Ron said absently, holding his own and leaning in. "It smells a lot better than half the potions we've had to make."

"Hey," Harry interrupted, having poked a half-rotted leaf out of the way, "look -- it's Trevor!"

At this moment, Trevor gave one last, loud croak and leaped onto Harry's outstretched hand, leaving behind a large, white, swollen-looking egg with a tracery of dark cracks on its surface. There was a soft crunching sound, and the egg shifted, one side of it bulging. A blunt, bright green object pressed outward and forced its way out into the air, bits of shell flaking away.

In sudden horror, Harry yelled, "Don't look! It's a basilisk! Shut your eyes!" He hoped they had all listened to his first warning, because he thought he heard himself hissing over the last words. His own eyes remained fixed on the egg as a rounded triangular head thrust its way free; he shut them hastily, but they popped open again in astonishment when he heard a small voice that did not belong to Ron or Hermione or Ginny say, "They're shut now."

A poison-green snake that could have crawled easily through the circle of his finger and thumb shook off the last fragments of eggshell. It didn't appear to have any eyes until Harry looked closer and saw that there was a line where each one should have been. The infant basilisk pointed its nose directly at him and flicked out its tongue, then said hopefully, "Daddy?"

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Mrs. Weasley was not thrilled about having a deadly serpent, even a very small one, brought into her home. The little basilisk found an unexpected (although, Harry felt upon reflection, he really should have expected it) champion in Hermione, however, who had gone somewhat pale and refused to get too close but maintained that if the creature was obeying Harry so readily, it hardly seemed like an immediate threat. Crookshanks, on being recruited to examine it, sniffed the basilisk boldly from head to tail and did not purr, but didn't do anything overtly hostile either. He merely trotted off and returned with three pieces of dry cat food and a baby mouse. The basilisk asked Harry eagerly whether it could eat the food or if it belonged to the other large predator he wouldn't let her look at, and on being given permission gulped them down with great enthusiasm and reared up like a blind cobra to touch noses with Crookshanks.

They made a Floo call to the Longbottoms to tell Neville they had finally found Trevor. They didn't quite like to mention through the fire that Trevor had hatched an eight-inch basilisk who thought Harry was its father, but Hermione took Neville aside to break the news to him as soon as he arrived. Harry couldn't do it himself, as they didn't quite dare to leave the basilisk on its own.

Neville came through the doorway with one hand over his eyes and the other clutching Trevor protectively against his chest. Harry looked up at him and said, "It's all right. She's got her eyes shut."

"A snake has her eyes shut?" Neville asked dubiously, but he opened his own and came over. "Huh. Maybe it comes of being part chicken."

"I don't know." Harry eyed the serpent, which was currently sprawled as limply as a boiled noodle over his knee. There was a small bulge in her middle from the first meal of her life. "How much did Hermione tell you?"

"Just that you'd found Trevor sitting on an egg in the compost heap, and then you started yelling. And then hissing."

"That's about it." Harry frowned. "Hermione looked it up and said it must be a girl, because there's no sign of a crest. I suppose Slytherin's monster was a girl too, then. I'm sorry we didn't find Trevor any sooner."

"I'm sorry he went and hatched a monster!" Neville paused to look at the snoozing snake. "Though she doesn't really look any worse than a grass snake right now. They're good to have in gardens, you know. They eat pests. Not Flesh-Eating Slugs, those are a bit much, but other than that...." He trailed off. "Are you, er, planning to keep her?"

Harry pulled a face. "Well, she did shut her eyes. And it's a little hard to think of killing her after she started out calling me 'Daddy.' It's not like she's done anything." He thought of Morfin Gaunt teasing adders and nailing them to the door. "On the other hand... what happens if she does open her eyes or bites somebody? I'm not Hagrid; I don't really want to keep a pet that could kill me by accident."

"Aren't Parselmouths supposed to be able to control snakes?"

"Well... partly." Harry looked up as Hermione and Ron came in with several glasses and two saucers of milk. "The first snake I ever talked to was a boa constrictor at the zoo. I don't think there was any controlling involved. He seemed nice, though. Actually that was probably the most pleasant conversation I'd had in months."

"You told us about that before," Ron observed. "Didn't you say it told you it had never seen Brazil?"

"Yeah. I, erm, made the glass disappear after that and let him out. It was an accident!" Harry added hastily. "He'd actually just been using gestures until then, mostly, but I definitely heard him say 'Thanks.' And then he pretended to try to bite Dudley and slithered off. I hope he got where he wanted to go."

"Right." Neville patted Trevor. "So... if you don't mind if I ask... what did she eat?"

"Crookshanks brought her a mouse." Harry looked down at the cat, who was busily lapping up milk from a saucer, and took a long drink from his own glass. "I suppose that means he approves."

"If you're keeping her," Ginny said, "she needs a name."

"I can't take her looking for Voldemort, though!" Harry said, setting the glass down sharply. "Even if she's all right for now, he could probably order her around... the way he ordered around Slytherin's basilisk." He frowned again. "Can't say I like the idea of keeping the same kind of pet as Salazar Slytherin, either."

Neville shrugged. "It's kind of creepy, but a lot of evil wizards have kept cats -- all right, not Kneazles, but cats -- and toads, too. And owls for that matter."

"It probably is illegal, though," Hermione put in. "I'm quite sure basilisks are restricted creatures. They're certainly rated as very dangerous."

"I think I'm in enough trouble with the Ministry anyway. What's an illegal pet?" Harry eyed the snake doubtfully. "Ron, could you hand me my Chocolate Frog Cards? I think I left them by that chair.... Maybe I can find a good name in there." He shuffled through them. "Bridget?"

"She doesn't look much like a Bridget," said Ginny.

"Well, I can't call her Herpo if she's a girl," Harry muttered, flipping through a few more cards. "Maeve?"

"The educator-queen?" Hermione looked intrigued. "Well, why not?"

"That still leaves the problem of what to do with her. Maybe I can just tell her to keep her eyes shut, never bite, and never eat anything that isn't given to her...."

"Well," Hermione began hesitantly, and then stopped.

Harry looked over. "What?"

"There might be a way to transmit Parseltongue. I mean, to make someone else a Parselmouth."

"What?" Harry wasn't the only one who said it this time.

"It's only a theory, mind you!" Hermione said hastily. "But one of the, er, more positively famous Parselmouths in history was Asclepius the healer, and the story -- which could be a legend, of course -- is that he gained the ability when a snake licked his ears out."

Harry regarded the basilisk, now named Maeve, dubiously. "Wouldn't that tickle? And why would a snake want to do that?"

"I've no idea," Hermione said. "But it, er, might also work with a Parselmouth doing the... licking."

Harry felt his eyebrows try to climb into his hair. "Might it."

"I don't know," Ginny said. "I'd think after last year I ought to be understanding her, in that case."

"Er, perhaps it takes a more sustained effort," Harry muttered. "That was more... nibbling, most of the time."

"I DON'T need to hear this!" Ron said loudly. Hermione laughed. Neville looked uncomfortable.

"It's probably just as well anyway," Harry said to Ginny. "It's just one more nuisance, most of the time."

"Oh, sure," said Ginny. "Especially when you find accidentally-hatched basilisks in the compost heap. It's really useless then."

"Well, still... you wouldn't want to just start... hearing snakes."

"Not unexpectedly," Ginny said consideringly. "This one seems friendly enough as far as it goes, though, and Crookshanks doesn't mind her. If you don't want to take her with you, I don't see where you could safely leave her that isn't here. And in that case it could be handy for somebody to be able to talk to her. It might be worth a shot."

The idea of licking Ginny's ears was really distracting. Harry supposed Voldemort probably wouldn't be watching it.... Well, that made all the excited butterflies in his stomach drop like stones. Still. Pretty ears.

"I'll even let Maeve do it, if that's necessary," Ginny added.

Bleah, thought Harry.

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