Whelp II The Wrath of Snape

Harry's face screwed up. Why couldn't Charlie go upstairs to see the Humpbacked Witch with him? He'd liked exploring before. Sure, Charlie had classes, but all the time? And wasn't exploring more important? And he'd barely even said hello to Treacle!

'C'mon, Nelli,' he muttered. 'Let's go outside.' He led the House-elf out the front entrance and down the hill, but he curved to the left as they went down, instead of to the right like he usually did when they went to Hagrid's hut.

'Master Harry,' Nelli warned, 'youse is not allowed to be at the pitch without--'

'My father's 'spress permission. I know. This is just a faster way down,' he told her. And it was. Smoother, too, and easier going for Treacle, who he'd let down as soon as they got free of the bunches of students who might step on her tail by accident. It was faster. He wasn't going this way just so he could go close to the pitch, no matter what Nelli thought.

The pitch was just beyond them now, to the left, and he hardly looked at it at all as they went by, honest. Last week, Charlie had showed him around the stands and they played some with real quaffles and bludgers and snitches like they used at practice and in the games, and Charlie had taken him flying, and they'd even used the changing rooms to get cleaned up after, like real Quidditch players.

Ron had been there, too, and he had to use a little kid's broom like Harry did, but Charlie had said -- afterwards, and in private so Ron wouldn't get upset or jealous -- that Harry was the better flier. No one had ever told him he was better at something than someone else. Not ever, even once.

'I'll be a great Quidditch player, Tree,' he told the kneazle who kept up with his short strides with ease as they rounded the base of the hill and curled away from the pitch at last. 'You'll see.'

They did all the exploring they could on the way to Hagrid's, climbing over outcroppings of rock and peering into odd little burrows. It when he was clambering over a bit of slippery stone covered in green, fuzzy moss to get a better look at the queer looking tree nearer to the Forbidden Forest -- Charlie said was a Whomping Willow -- that he heard the voice.

'Watch your ssssstep, walker.'

Harry looked all around, but it was Treacle who found the snake. Her ears were laid flat, her tail -- like a lion's Hagrid had told him, with the little puff of fur at the end -- was all bushed out like a bottle brush. She crouched, back end in the air, right between Harry and a pale gray snake with a black zigzag running down the length of its spine and an upside down V on its neck.

Nelli, just behind Harry, sucked in a breath and whispered, 'Don't move, Master Harry. Please don't move.'

Harry shot her a look, not understanding why not, and shrugged. 'Sssorry,' Harry told the snake. 'I didn't sssee you there.'

'You sssspeak?' the snake asked.

'Sssure. Why do you all asssk that?'

The snake's head rose slightly, making Treacle growl low in her throat, but neither of them moved an inch more. 'You have ssspoken to one of usss before?'

'Yessss. In the garden of Ssspinner'sss End, and in Ssssurrey.' He frowned over the memory of that first snake he'd ever talked to, but shook it away, not wanting to think about it. 'Not many of usss speak, huh?'

'You are the firsssst I have encountered, walker. I heard sssstories of another, many hatchingsssss ago.'

'Well, nicccce to meet you. My name isss Harry. Not walker.'

He was almost sure the snake laughed at that; it's head shook back and forth as it said, 'But you walk, yessss?'

'Well, ssssure. I've got legssss.' Treacle's hind end was twitching, like she might pounce on the snake, so he said, 'No, Tree. Leave the snake be.'

She didn't move, but her hind end quit being all wiggly, and Harry relaxed a little.

'Thankssss,' the snake said. 'Her clawssss look sssharp.'

Harry grinned. 'They are. Ssshe clingsss great to my ssshirt.' He sat down on the rock and pulled some of the leftover toast from breakfast from his pocket. 'Want sssome? ' he asked, offering a piece to the snake.

Looking over Treacle's head, the snake peered at the browned bread. 'Isss it dead?'

Harry laughed. 'Nah, well, it'ssss not alive, isss it? It'ssss just bread. Toassst. You put jam on it.'

'Not a vole?'

'No, ssssorry. Isss that what you eat, then? Volesss?'

'If posssssible. They are very tassssty. But lizardssss are nicccce, too.' The snake turned slightly -- though still keeping one eye on Treacle -- and looked at the forest. 'It issss almost time for ssssleeeping. Then, no more eating till sssspring.'

'You hibernate in the winter?' Harry remembered that word from day school, when they'd been studying bears.

'Yessss. There issss--' The snake suddenly cut off and darted into a crevice in the stone, vanishing from sight.

'Hey!' Harry called, scrambling to his feet and looking down into the crevice. 'Hey, snake! Come back!'

'Who you talking to, Harry?' a voice behind him asked.