Mother Magic and the Philosopher's stone

Chapter Three

Harry Potter was perhaps the best student Magic had seen since the times of Rowena Ravenclaw herself. He had a hunger, a thirst for knowledge unparalleled, and politely demanded answers with a cool and collected logic. 'This was not how it was supposed to have been', she thought to herself on many occasions, 'He is no longer a malleable soldier of the light. He is my ward.'

Potions, he devoured with a bright and jovial interest, Transfiguration he mastered with ease. He dismantled charms at eight years old, sending blue butterflies around his room mindlessly, with nary a thought. He lived and breathed ancient runes, mastered basic combat spells (much to Magic's chagrin) and knew the rules of wizarding etiquette like the back of his delicate hand. But the best and most surprising gift that her blessed child possessed, was the ability to talk to snakes.

It was a warm August morning, the air thick and almost suffocating. The young boy, only 7 years old, walked through brittle yellow grass, dried by the baking sun and a hosepipe ban that left the neat rows of houses of Privet Drive in a middle class uproar. In the edge of his vision, he saw movement, and froze. 'what is it?' he murmured, hesitant to make his presence anymore known.

'A simple serpent, child. Do not fret, None can harm you here.' Harry nodded, and continued on his journey, but the shape followed still, never closer or farther away. When the unbearable sunkissed fields gave way to cool shade under canopies, the young child turned around.
'stop following me!' he hissed at the snake, angry that his day of exploring was overshadowed by a serpentine threat. Up close the snake was smaller, the tall grass giving it a bigger presence as the animal crushed it under belly. In the specks of sunlight escaping to the floor the dark rings of his head glimmered, and the boy felt an urge to pet it.

'A speaker!' the snake exclaimed 'My Hatchmates were right, we haven't met a speaker in many seasons.'
'A speaker?'
'Aye, hatchling, that of serpent tongue, heir to Salazar himself.'
'You mean I'm not speaking English?'
If snakes could laugh, the serpent did so, in harsh wheezy breaths punctuated by the flickering of its forked tongue.
'As if a mighty serpent would ever speak such a lowly human language. You amuse me so hatchling.'
'You didn't answer my question, Snake, Why are you following me?'
'To see if the rumours are true, I have travelled for many days to find you Speaker, yet your size is disappointing. Will you grow like a basilisk? Or remain as small as a worm?'
'I'm only seven Snake, I'm going to be taller,' He huffed in indignation. He had always been small for his age, but he had other talents that weren't dependent on his height.
'Blessed be the day Speaker, Take me with you on your travels, I vow to serve you well.'
'Take you with me? Like a Familiar?' The serpent laughed again.
'What hubris, Speaker. No, a simple companionship, I am the best company a simple wizard could ask for.'
'Do you have a name?'
'We do not require names like you humans do, but if it pleases you to name me, it must be a fine name indeed!' The child thought for a second, pondering on what name was befitting for a snake with such an ego.
'Ouroboros?' The serpent smiled, which was weird in itself, a wide, fanged grin that unsettled the boy.
'The beginning of a great companionship indeed.'