Info: The Dursley's abandoned Harry at an orphanage when he was 4 years old. Harry steals money when he goes to London to pay for books.

"I didn't know snakes could speak English...?"

In an orphanage, on the outskirts of London, a boy could be seen, staring blankly at the park on the end of the road. Children – between the ages of 3 and 18 were running round laughing and playing, yet as the boy watched, he could only feel utter hatred toward them. You see, the other children from the orphanage always called him names: freak, weirdo, nerd, loner, liar...etc. The older ones even went as far as to beating him, kicking him about and stealing his meagre possessions. That's why the boy hated them. He wasn't stupid. He knew he was different, completely different than the others. He could do things, strange and wonderful things...

The boy had tousled obsidian hair, which contrasted completely with his alabaster complexion. He was rather scrawny, as a result of the malnourishment he had suffered at his relatives' hands several years ago, before he came to the orphanage. The only feature the boy liked of himself was the jagged, red scar on his forehead – that was in the shape of a lightning bolt. He had no idea how that came to be there, but he was glad it was as it gave him character, and he liked it.

The boy shifted off his rotting, wooden toy box – which actually contained no toys at all – and instead went to perch himself on his decrepit mattress, which took up the whole length of the room. He was about to pick up his book on astrophysics, when a deep, guttural voice sounded from his door. "Well, well if it isn't Harry Snotter himself!" Jake Grimshaw, casually lent against the door frame, smirking whilst his lackeys: Richard Davies and Kane Sanders laughed behind him.

Jake had made it his mission to make Harry's life a living hell since he arrived at the orphanage when he was 4. It started with teasing and the throwing of insults, but after Harry somehow turned Lacey Grimshaw's (Jake's sister) hair pink, they had taken to physically hurting him every time they happened to see him.

Harry, now aged 7, was filled with complete, unadulterated loathing for the other boy, who was the oldest boy at the orphanage - age 18.

He had had enough.

Harry casually lifted his emerald eyes, which seemed to glow in the dim light of his room, to meet dull grey ones. "What's the matter Potter? You scared?" Jake teased, stepping further into the room, till he was towering over Harry completely. "Ha! Maybe if you beg, I won't use my knife today."

Harry stood, forcing Jake to take a step back, lest he wish to be nose to nose with him.


"What was that Potty?"

"I said, no."

"Oooooh" Jake cooed, crossing his bulky arms over his chest, "Big man here ain't he boys?" The other boys laughed at this, cheering on their leader. "Should we teach the kid a lesson?" Both boys shouted, "Yeah! Go on Jake!"

Jake lifted his fist, ready to smash it into Harry's face, when something strange happened...

Time seemed to stop for Harry, and he felt a tingling warmth reach his palms, which he outstretched in front of his face in protection. Then suddenly, red sparks shot out from his hands, hitting the boys square in the chest. Harry watched in sick fascination as the boys simultaneously dropped to the ground, screaming and began to writhe on the floor in pain. A smirk crept onto Harry's usually innocent face. This was the most complete Harry had ever felt in his life. Harry slowly lowered his hands, cutting off the sparks from his palms. The boys whimpered slightly, before cautiously getting to their feet. Jake moved away from Harry as quickly as possible, before swivelling and pointing at Harry with a shaking finger. "D..dem...demon! DEMON!" He screamed before racing out of the room, his lackeys close behind.

The other children left him alone after that incident, casting fearful glances his way during meal times and when ever they saw him near, they scurried away like mice hiding from a cat. Harry was just fine with that. It meant that he could do what he wanted, without getting told off as even the matron was afraid of him now.

On his 10th birthday, Harry went to the wood, which was a 30 minute walk away from the orphanage. He wanted time to think. He sat down against a willow tree, situated deep within the woodland when he heard a female voice by his side. "Ssstupid human blocking my sssunlight! I'll bite him!" Harry's looked around himself, yet he saw no one there. "Who's there?" Harry queried out into the open air. A startled gasp followed this reply.

"A ssspeaker?"

When Harry still couldn't identify where the voice was coming from, he heard:

"Down here boy!"

Wide emerald eyes met slitted yellow ones.

"I didn't know that snakes could speak English...?" Harry replied with a question, gazing down at the 6 foot, reticulated python which lifted its head, watching Harry curiously.

"Don't be foolisssh boy! You are sspeaking parsseltongue!"

"What? I'm sspeaking a different language? But I didn't even realisse..." Harry trailed off, suddenly taking note of the slight hiss on his words.

"My masster alsso iss a sspeaker. How I misss masster..."

"Who iss your masster, if you don't mind me assking of coursse?"

"My masster iss a great and powerful man. Very powerful..."

"Sso, where iss your masster now?"

The snake's voice turned slightly melancholy at this. "I don't know." Its head dropped in sadness, "I have not sseen him for yearsss now..."

"I'm ssorry. I didn't mean to make you upsset..." Harry said feeling guilty.

"Oh don't be ssilly sspeaker."

"Harry." The snake cocked its head curiously, "My name iss Harry." As Harry said this, he outstretched his right palm, green sparks shot out and shot at a mouse that tried to run from the sight of the snake. The snake's eyes slightly widened at this.

"Your lassst name? What isss it?"

"Oh ermm, Potter. Harry Potter."

The snake made a slight chuckling sound at this.

"How very curiouss... Well Harry Potter, my name iss Nagini."

"Hello Nagini." Harry greeted, a smile gracing his face as he reached down to stoke Nagini's jade scales. Nagini hissed in content.

"Well, it hass been nice to meet you Harry Potter. I sshall tell my masster of you when I sssee him next." Nagini finished before slithering toward the mice, gulping it down in one and then making her way through the forest. Harry shook his head in disbelief at what had just occurred. He knew he was different, and he was happy about it.

A year after this, Harry lay in his bed, head propped up against the wall, as he read a book of psychology. He was very intelligent. At the age of 11 he could easily pass his A levels with flying colours. Harry was bored in all his classes, seen as though he knew all the material, having read it all. He could play the violin, the piano, the cello, the flute, the double bass, the harp and could sing like and angel.