Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ A Butterfly Effect ❯ Chapter 1: The Zoo ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

SG's Fun filled and Somewhat Story Related Fact: An adult male manufactures over 100 million sperm cells per day!

Interpretation: There is a 1 in 100 million chance that your father will produce your sperm cell today. If you do not reach an egg within that day, you are promptly reconverted into protein. The chance that "your" sperm could be the first to reach an egg twice is so infinitely small that it is simply easier to round off to 0. Thus given the short nature of human lives, the number of times humans are actually engaged in sexual activity, and genes that recombine and change fluidly, there is logically only 1 moment in the grand scheme of time that you could ever be conceived.

IMPORTANT:So just to be clear. A female Harry Potter in an HG fic means femmeslash. It will begin as the closest of friends and become something more. I'm pretty open to all ships as long as there's no incest. I can promise you that, as I am going to progress through all the books, it won't come until much later. There will be signs, innocent things really, for several years. Harry will be very open to everyone. I plan on dipping into 4 very common Harry ships, slash becoming het, het becoming femmeslash. No I'm not telling you who the 4th is. Harry has led a life bereft of love and will obviously seek it out.

About Harry: Think of her as Lily's daughter, instead of James' son. Raised the same, treated the same, similar experiences to canonHarry. Ask yourself, will she be the same? Maybe.

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Chapter 1: The Zoo

"There was a sound of thunder."

Ray Bradbudy

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THUMP.

She sat bolt upright in bed so quickly, that her habitual ducking motion was forgotten. Her head clunked against the coat rail that lay two feet above her bed. She moaned, tears welling up in her eyes. "Bol… bollocks."

Harriet Potter... Harry... lay back down, curling her knees up to her chest, clutching her head as she waited for the stars to clear from her eyes. Dudley cackled as soon as he heard the telltale clunk accompanied by her moan. She heard him stomp down the stairs and into the kitchen for his morning feast.

She glared up at the coat rail. Dudley and the coat rail. The coat rail and Dudley. The two were incomplete without the other. And together they were the bane of her existence. Well, there were many banes to her existence in the Dursley household, but Dudley and the coat rail, well… if she were to be found dead one morning in her cupboard, they would surely be the ones to blame. Dudley had taken a serious liking to waking up before she did, just so he could creep to the ninth stair from the bottom, jump, and crash with all his weight on the fifth.

It was terribly loud, shook the whole house, and made her cupboard creek and groan. Thus… her forehead's intimate acquaintance with the coat rail. She knew that one day soon, Whaleboy would leap from that ninth step, crash through the stairs and break something. Harry herself would, of course, be blamed and made to fix everything. Perhaps the coat rail, in a final showing of repentance, would impale her as Dudley fell, and thus spare her from her fate.

She gazed around at her cupboard in the faint light. She had loved it when she was younger. It was hers. It had been her palace tower, her cave of mischief and wonder, her impenetrable fortress against the forces of Dudley. But it was so so small. Harry had a feeling that she'd never get very big, but when even she could no longer straighten out as she used to, when Dudley tormented her every morning, she came to see that this cupboard wasn't a very special place at all.

It was where the Dursleys put her, out of sight, and out of mind. Dudley had two large rooms, while Harry had her sixteen square feet. She had never questioned before. She had never questioned why Dudley was smothered in hugs and kisses and comfort, while she had been pushed roughly away every time she had tried to latch onto her aunt's hand. She had never questioned why Uncle Vernon chuckled every time she had burnt her hand on the stove. She had never questioned why Dudley threw bits of pebble at her when she was on the monkey bars at recess; why he punched anyone that talked to her.

A few years ago, one boy in her class had offered her his juice box, as he saw she only had some toast for lunch. Dudley had dragged him out behind the school and set him straight. Piers had never been kind to her again. She had never questioned why her hurts had gone unhealed; why she had to wear ragged cut offs of Aunt Petunia's old nighties; why her ragged knickers were done up with safety pins to keep them to her thin waist; why the only family she had didn't… want her.

But now? She knew now. She wasn't theirs. Her parents, according to her Aunt, had been drifters, bums, and when they died, drunk in a car crash, her Aunt and Uncle had taken her in. But... she wasn't theirs.

Harry turned and buried her aching forehead into the mess of towels and pincushions that she called her pillow. She had been having such a good dream. She tried to remember it fully, desperately clinging to it as her mind became active and ready for the day. There had been a man with a beard who had looked down at her with such warmth. She had tried to grasp his large hand as it tickled her stomach, but found she could not quite hold it. The man had let out a huge laugh and said… well she couldn't remember now. Just like the man's hand, her good dreams were always things she couldn't hold onto.

Harry sighed heavily and sat up, rubbing at her eyes. Opening the grill in her cupboard door, she glanced briefly at the pin up calendar that hung across the hall. July 20th. Her sleep ridden mind wondered why that seemed important. Oh bloody hell, its Du-

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIDDYKIMS!" She heard several noises that resembled the sound of a suction cup releasing violently. Diddykims' 11 birthday kisses she presumed. Getting up, she pushed open the small door and made her way around and up the stairs to Aunt Petunia's bathroom. She turned on the light and closed the door, preparing to wash up.

Aunt Petunia hated it when Harry used her bath. Ever since Harry could wash herself alone, she had been made to stand over the sink and use a small spunge to scrub away at her skin. She gazed longingly at the bathtub. Harry had had several opportunities to use it when Aunt Petunia headed out to the market, while Dudley and Vernon were waddling around in the backyard attempting to play sports. Whenever she was lucky enough for this to occur, she would rush up here to the bathroom, lock the door, and run a steaming hot bath. She always had the time of her life, splashing around, making castles from soap, really washing her hair instead of using a soaped up comb.

Without looking at her reflection, she scrubbed and dried quickly. Going to the bathroom pantry, she pulled out the one piece of clothing that was hers and fit. It was a simple white summer dress with some black velvety lace around the waist. When Aunt Marge had gotten it for her a year ago, the first time Harry had met her, Uncle Vernon had pulled his sister aside and whispered heatedly in her ear. Harry had only caught a few words along the lines of "give an inch" and "takes a mile." Marge was especially chilly toward her after the conversation. The Dursleys let her keep it of course so as not to insult Marge. Harry had cared for the dress like she would a child. She personally hand washed it, bleached it, starched the collar. It was bit itchy at the waist, but... it was hers and it fit.

Looking back to the mirror for a quick glance before she left the bathroom, she froze in her tracks. OH NO! She ran to the mirror, clutching the sink, running a hand through her long locks.

My hair... it grew back! Aunt Petunia will kill me. Her Aunt had just yesterday cut her hair into a bob that didn't even fall below her chin. Harry had hated it, it made her hair stick up all over the place. At least when it was long it attempted to lay flat... well... flattish. Maybe if she tied it back her Aunt wouldn't notice. She lifted it into a messy bun. Several shorter strands were falling out into her face and over her eyes. No matter what she did, she couldn't get them to stay up. Sighing, she left the bathroom. Bring on the punishment. I bet I'll have to weed her weedless garden.

Groaning, she marched back downstairs and into the kitchen. The mound of presents in front of her reached to the ceiling. Dudley sat in front of it, blubber falling over the edges of the chair. He had unwrapped roller skates, video games, a bicycle, a computer, squirt guns, cap guns, and every other thing a boy of eleven could possibly want. Uncle Vernon danced around nearby with a camera. Harry stealthily moved to the stove and put on the Kippurs and eggs. Thankfully, Aunt Petunia was much too occupied fussing over Dudley to notice Harry's hair.

"So Dudders! Where would you like to go today?" Uncle Vernon jauntily asked as he danced.

Dudley thought. It looked like he was in pain as he did so. "The Zoo! I want to see whales!"

Harry smirked at the bacon. You don't need to go to the Zoo for that Diddykims. Her uncle clapped Dudley loudly on the back. "The Zoo it is. Why don't you call up Piers and Malcolm and see if they want to join us?"

Dudley waddled to the phone and Harry grimaced. Piers and Malcolm. Dudley's lackeys. Malcolm was the brawn; dumb as a stump, but he was even larger than Dudley. He would grab her hair and arms as Dudley would hit her. Piers was the brains; what he lacked in size he made up for with his sharp tongue. Ever since the 'Juice Box Incident,' Piers had followed Dudley around like a lapdog, partially out of fear, partially because he had few friends. He would taunt; Malcolm would hold; Dudley would hit. If bullying was a sport, they would surely be on the English Olympic team.

"Malcolm says he's right sick, but Piers will come." Dudley sat back down and started shoveling his eggs into his mouth as quickly as a human being possibly could, eggs that Harry had just taken off the stove. The satisfying squeal when they burned his tongue made Harry grin.

"I can't take her today Vernon," Aunt Petunia said nodding in Harry's direction. "I'm going to Garden Club and I absolutely won't have her and her... unnaturalness-"

Harry missed this next bit because her thoughts were whirling Good. I don't want to be there. Bunch of gossipy ladies talking about everything except gardening. At least I can play with Mrs. Figg's cats today. Even though Mrs. Figg was a barmy old woman, she did have a multitude of cats. Harry really loved her cats. She loved animals; she loved anything that would sit still long enough to let her hold it, or at least not run from her in fear like her schoolmates.

"Ah well I'll call up Figg then."

Uncle Vernon moved to the phone but Petunia stopped him short, "Arabella is in the hospital Vernon. She tripped on a cat and fell down the stairs." Oh dear. I hope she's' alright. I bet it was Snowball.

"Ah well... what about your friend?" Uncle Vernon was sporting the same painful looking expression Dudley had on his face just moment ago. "Yvonne?"

Petunia shook her head. "No no, she's in Majorca for the holiday." Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia glanced at Harry. Petunia spluttered in anger at Harry's hair but said nothing. Dudley suddenly stopped shoveling Kippurs into his mouth and looked up at his mother pleadingly. Harry and Dudley spoke as one.

"I don't want her to go!" Dudley whined.

"I don't want to go!" exclaimed Harry vehemently. I hate Piers.

Uncle Vernon glared at her before turning to his son. "Dudley we can't leave her alone in the house. If you're a good boy and don't make a fuss, I'll buy you two more presents while we're out!"

Dudley, after considering this, looked up at his father and said, "Three."

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And so, an hour later, after receiving a sound warning from Uncle Vernon to 'not mess up the day for Dudley with any of her mischief,' Harry found herself standing in a cool underground room, surrounded on all sides by a glass tank full of water. She glared hotly at Piers and Dudley as they ate their ice cream sundaes. Uncle Vernon had gotten her a cheap lemon pop. She was allergic to lemons.

Harry leaned against the glass wall, watching Dudley and Piers angrily as they ran from tank to tank, making faces at the dolphins, banging on the glass, and just being all around overly obnoxious. Uncle Vernon and Mr. Polkiss paid their sons no attention as they sat talking about drills.

One of the dolphins sailed right behind her head. They were so beautiful. Round and round in circles they swam. It was mesmerizing. She closed her eyes and pictured herself swimming with them. She was positive that they didn't have coat rails to dodge when they woke up every morning.

"Budge over!" cried Dudley's familiar voice and Harry felt an elbow slam hard into her ribs. She fell just as hard, glasses flying off her face.

Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she glared up at Dudley and Piers. Her arm had a raspberry from where she skidded it across the rough carpet of the building. Dudley ran off laughing at her misfortune.

Tearing a little at both the stinging sensation and the blood dripping onto her bright white dress, Harry got up. She was about to chase Dudley to kick him in the bits as hard as she could, when Piers held out his hand. She ogled at it. It held her glasses. It looked like Piers wanted to do… say… something. She took her glasses from him and shoved them roughly back onto her nose, hair falling out of her bun as she did so. Piers just kept on staring at her, blue eyes glued to her own. Harry, realizing the awkwardness of this particular situation, muttered, "Th-Thank you."

"You're welcome... Harry."

Not Hairy Harry? Or Potty? She hadn't heard him say her name with kindness in years.

Dudley sauntered back over to them after tiring from chasing the dolphin he had been taunting all over the room. He had missed the whole event between the two. Dudley threw his arm around Piers' shoulder and said, "that's what you get for getting in my way orphan."

Piers' familiar taunting smirk had returned. At Dudley's words, he had let out a cold laugh and turned his back on her.

Harry realized quite suddenly that she had to get out of this room. Now. She ran for the exit.

"GIRL! GET BACK HERE!" Vernon yelled, but Harry was already out the door. She ran to the next building over, wrenched open the door, and careened inside. Down the hall she flew, turning whenever she could. She passed at least a hundred glass tanks before slowing to catch her breath. It was cool in this building as well... it was almost dank. After her breathing had slowed back to its normal pace, she distinctly heard a soft tinkling humming all around her. It sounded very much like elevator music. They must be playing it on the stereo. It was soothing.

God... I hate Piers.

Harry got up slowly and peered into the nearest tank. It resembled a flourishing jungle setting. She searched for the animal it held, nose pressed against the warm glass, but it eluded her. "Yeah," she muttered softly. "I'd hide too if I was on display all day."

Dudley and Piers had just caught up with her, Uncle Vernon behind them, wheezing slightly. He said nothing in the presence of so many people and Mr. Polkiss, but his purple face and the death glare he gave her, promised an extremely long stay in the cupboard... without meals.

Harry glared fiercely at Dudley and Piers as they banged on the seemingly empty tank. "Stop it! The animals don't deserve that."

They both flipped her the bird before running off to find something more interesting to taunt. Turning back to the jungle tank, she was surprised to find two large eyes, not four inches away from her face, staring right back at her through the glass. A large black snake had appeared through the jungle foliage and risen up to her eye level. Its eyes were boring into her, drawing her closer.

And then... it winked.

Harry stared. She looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. She looked back at the snake and winked, too.

The snake jerked its head towards Dudley and Piers, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time."

"I know," she murmured through the glass, though she wasn't sure the snake could hear her. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.

The snake jabbed its tail at the wall beside the glass. There were a few signs of varying sizes. One read: Boa Contrictor, Hog Island, while another read: Boa Imperator, Peru.

The largest sign, which happened to be the one the snake was pointing at, read: Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

Harry sighed longingly. "Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and she read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout from behind Harry that could have only been Peirs,' made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling towards them as fast as he could. "Out of the way, you," he said, elbowing her yet again in her already elbowed ribs. She slammed into the wall behind her. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

She sat up and gasped; the glass in front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out and on to the floor - people throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exists.

As the snake slid swiftly past her, Harry could have sworn a low hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come… Thanks, chica."

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock. "But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"

By the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down long enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"

The car went silent. Uncle Vernon stared back at her through the rear view mirror, a look of suspicion and growing anger on his face. Piers leaned over to her and said quietly, "you were talking to it weren't you? I saw you." Harry whispered nothing back. "Harry?" Another whisper. She turned and was met by bright blue eyes.

He was quiet for a few moment, eyes boring into her, and then asked. "Did you make the glass vanish?" Harry was wondering this herself and shrugged. Piers gulped and asked, "do you… do you maybe want to come over sometime… and you… you could teach me how?"

Harry thought about this. She thought about Piers; thought about how nice it was when he offered her his juice box; thought about the look he gave her this afternoon when she lost her glasses; thought about his kind, twinkling, blue eyes; thought about his cold smirk whenever Dudley appeared; thought about his taunts; thought about every horrible thing he had ever said to her. Piers had been so cruel. He had participated avidly in Dudley's Harry Hunting game, even if it had been out of fear.

Gazing into his eyes… she shook her head… no.

Piers' face fell. He seemed hurt. Deeply. Somewhere in those blue eyes a little tiny light flicked out.

Harry instantly wanted to change her mind, but before she could find the right words to say, Piers spoke, his voice laced with venom.

"Fine. Be a freaky little orphan on your own."

Harry closed her mouth and let her loose strands of hair fall into her eyes. For the first time, after all this time, Harry knew without a doubt... that Piers Polkiss had meant this one. She leaned her head against the window and listened to the motor whir as they drove on through the city.

Uncle Vernon had waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting in on her. He was so angry he could barely speak. He managed five words, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a very large Brandy.

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