Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor am I making any profit from writing this. It's actually pulling me away from the non-fanfiction writing that I'm supposed to be doing, so take that for what it is.

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Chapter 1: A New Beginning

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It started out as a typical day - Petunia pulled him out of the cupboard at six thirty in the morning and immediately sent him out to weed the garden.

Three hours later, after weeding and trimming both the front and back gardens, Petunia took Harry into the kitchen and practically shoved him into one of the chairs that he'd previously never been allowed to sit in.

"Thank you, Pet," Vernon said from the doorway. "I'll be upstairs in just a moment." Petunia nodded and made her way upstairs while Vernon glared at Harry.

The six year old watched him with an eery sort of intelligence, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

The silence was broken when Vernon threw a worn leather messenger bag at Harry, hitting the child in the face with the thing. Harry said nothing, though he couldn't hide the wince and quiet whine as the bag reopened a cut on his cheekbone.

"Don't stare at me, boy," Vernon snapped. "We're taking Dudley on a vacation to the United States and he decided that you will come along to carry his things."

A bright smile came over the child's face as the news sank in. "I am coming with you?" he asked, clutching the bag against his chest as he hesitantly stood up.

"Yes, boy," Vernon said, sighing in exasperation. "Hurry up and pack your bag; we're leaving for the airport in half an hour and I will not stand for you holding us up."

Harry stood still, not quite sure what to make of the news, until Vernon backhanded him.

"Don't stand there like an imbecile, boy," he snapped. "Go pack your things before you have to take Dudley's things out to the car." He glared at the child, restraining himself from hitting the child again. "Hurry up."

Harry scurried into action, immediately doing his best not to upset his uncle again. If he made the man angry with him in any way, there would be no way he would be allowed to go to on vacation with the Dursleys. He ran to his cupboard, and after some jimmying, he yanked the door open, nearly pulling it off the hinges in the process. He grabbed the few spare clothes that he had and shoved them into the leather bag haphazardly. Noticing that he still had plenty of room in the bag, he added the sketchbook that he'd ... found ... in a cubby in the art classroom in school before his uncle pulled him completely out of school. He hadn't yet drawn anything in the book in the eight months since he took the book, but it felt nice even owning something that offered him something of a fresh start. A clean slate, as it were.

About twenty minutes later, Harry had packed his bag and lugged Dudley's four suitcases, each of them larger than himself, down the stairs and pushed them into the back of Vernon's Mercedes. The fifth, and final, of his cousin's suitcases, had been heavier than all the others. Harry had barely managed to bring it to the top of the stairs before it toppled over, sending both itself and Harry careening to the floor eighteen stairs below.

Vernon stood at the open door, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched passively as Harry pulled himself to his feet and surveilled his injuries. His nose was bleeding and his left wrist was throbbing. His back was aching, and the cut on his cheek had once again reopened, but it wasn't bleeding much.

"I don't have all day to wait on you, boy," Vernon said. "Hurry up and put the suitcase in the car. You're going to make us late."

Harry looked up at him, his eyes welling up with tears that he refused to let fall. He nodded and once again grabbed the suitcase, biting his tongue to muffle the cry. His wrist had to be strained, if not broken, but he dragged the suitcase out to the car and shoved it into the back of the car. Once it was secured, Harry ran back into the house and grabbed his own small bag.

Vernon slapped him upside the back of his head as he crawled into the back seat of the car, next to Dudley.

"Can't we just shove the freak in the trunk?" Dudley asked, shoving Harry and his bag onto the floor of the seat. "I don't want him to infect me."

"There's no room left in the trunk, Dudders," Petunia said as Vernon got into the driver's seat and started the car. "It's only a short ride to the airport."

The larger boy scowled and elbowed Harry in the stomach, knocking the breath out of the smaller boy. "I don't want him anywhere near me in the jet," he said.

Petunia nodded, not looking back at her son. "Of course, darling," she said. "He'll be in the luggage compartment of the jet."

"We're taking a jet?" Dudley asked.

Vernon laughed as he drove out of the driveway and down the street. "Of course we're taking a jet. Only the best for us, and it will get us there a few hours faster than a commercial plane would," he said.

...

Nearly an hour later, Vernon pulled his car into the parking lot of a relatively small airport. Petunia and Dudley got out the car and were immediately greeted by two attendants. Vernon directed them to take care of the luggage as he turned the car off. "I'll meet you inside, Petunia," he said before grinning menacingly at the six year old in the back seat.

Had he not been expecting to be yanked out of the car and slapped, it would have hurt much more than it did. Unfortunately, after a short lifetime knowing only abuse from his only living relatives, this had become the norm for Harry. So did the warnings that followed the strikes. "You will behave yourself. If you embarrass us in any way, I will turn your skin black and blue. Am I making myself clear?" he asked.

Harry nodded silently, gripping the bottom hem of his shirt so tightly that his knuckles were white. He stared pointedly at the ground, already knowing that looking at his uncle right now would lead to a black eye. "I understand, sir," he said after a momentary pause.

"Good, now straighten your clothes and get your bag," Vernon said irritably.

Harry nodded. He turned around and reached into the car to get his bag. As soon as he'd slipped the messenger bag over his shoulders and tucked in the bottom of his shirt into the tops of his jeans, he turned around expecting to see his Uncle glaring down at him.

There was no one there. His Uncle had disappeared.

Harry ran around the car, trying to see if Vernon had gotten fed up with him and started walking into the airport terminal. The only people he saw were men in expensive suits and men in cheap suits following the men in expensive suits, carrying suitcases for the men they were following.

He fell back against the trunk of the car, hesitantly untucking his shirt. He looked around some more, hoping that his Uncle would reappear and berate him for misbehaving. No such luck. Harry closed his eyes, absently pinching the bridge of his nose like Petunia did when she was upset with Dudley but didn't want to say anything.

A moment passed, and Vernon still hadn't reappeared, but Harry felt someone watching him. He looked up to meet the eyes of whoever was watching him and he immediately found himself looking at a clean shaven older man. He had just gotten out of a red Porsche, and was watching Harry almost curiously. They watched each other for a moment before the man straightened himself and pulled an overcoat and a suitcase out of his car.

Harry looked away, and a splitting pain met his forehead, emanating from the lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. His hands immediately went to his forehead and he groaned quietly. The pain increased when he heard a voice echoing in his mind.

Nagini ... Where is the boy?

The hissed question in his head terrified him and his eyes shot open. Without thinking, he turned and bolted out of the parking lot. He ran down the road as fast as he could, heading into the alleys of the city not far away from the private terminal and avoiding everyone in his path.

When he couldn't breathe any longer, he collapsed behind a dumpster in an otherwise empty alleyway. He felt relatively safe from the voice that had asked the question, and the man that had watched him wasn't anywhere near him anymore.

After he caught his breath, he pulled his bag back up over his shoulders and decided to look around the area where he'd stopped running.

It was a small courtyard of shops, and as soon as he stepped out of the alley, a rather pleasant shiver ran down his spine and a light breeze caught him by surprise.

There was a fountain in the center of the courtyard, and a number of trees and small cafe tables surrounding the fountain. A few people were mulling around outside, talking with each other and wandering from shop to shop.

The shops themselves were all built of worn red brick and had large windows in the front, and a number of them had their doors propped open.

One shop in particular stood out to Harry, and he didn't seem to be able to stop himself from approaching it. It was similar to the other shops in the courtyard, but it's front window was completely tinted so that no one could see what was inside. The door was shut, but the name etched plainly onto it was what truly captured his attention.

Serpicos

Without hesitating, Harry grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. As soon as he took a step into the shop, he was immediately fascinated - the interior of the shop was more than he ever thought a shop could be.

It was warmer inside the shop than outside, but the sun shone brightly inside the store through the window and a few sky-lights. There were a number of trees planted in the room, large branches were propped up against the floor and the walls, and there was a large black leather sofa against the wall next to the window.

A number of different species of snakes lounged around the room, and as Harry walked further inside, he took note of the barely audible whispers filling the shop. One particularly loud whisper caught his attention and he looked up above his head - a large green snake wrapped around a large branch above the door stared back at him, rapidly flicking his tongue in and out.

As he stepped away from the door, he felt something wrap around his leg. He looked down and saw a small, pale yellow snake making its way up and around his leg. It looped itself around his neck and apparently made itself comfortable there, and Harry stood as still as he could, petrified that if he moved, he would get bitten by the snake.

"She's one of the most harmless creatures in here," a man's voice said from the back of the shop.

Harry relaxed a little bit, enough to push himself to take a few steps further into the shop. "She?" he asked.

"Dione, yes. She's a two year old ball python, and trust me, there are plenty more dangerous snakes than her in here," the man said. He walked out from behind a tree, and Harry took another step forward to see an open doorway that the tree had kept hidden from the front of the shop.

Harry looked back at the man, who was easily twice as tall as he was. "Which one is the most dangerous, then?" he asked as yet another snake approached him, this one wrapping around his right arm before slithering into his backpack.

The man took a seat on the leather couch and grinned when a large brown and gold snake took up the rest of the couch, resting it's head on his leg. "There's a baby basilisk that no one will take, and she's around here somewhere." He looked around from his spot on the couch as another snake draped around his shoulders. "I'll wager that she's the one in your bag," he said.

Harry froze and moved to take off his backpack but the man shook his head.

"Don't worry; she's not going to hurt you," the man said. "She was brought in here after someone thought it wise to carve out her eyes, which is a travesty. The only thing dangerous about baby girl is her venom."

"Her venom?"

"She has enough venom in one bite to take down an entire legion of men, but she's never shown any inclination to bite someone in the years that she's been here," he said. "If you're still too nervous, then hand the bag here and I'll take her out."

Harry hesitated a moment before walking over and almost hesitantly handing the bag over to the man. He looked around the shop and noticed that the whispers had gotten a bit louder and slightly easier for him to understand.

The man pulled the snake on the couch fully into his lap and motioned at the free space. "Have a seat, kid," he said as he took the bag that Harry was holding out to him.

As soon as he sat down on the couch, the snake in his bag moved out onto the couch and settled herself on Harry's lap. She hissed warningly at the python around Harry's neck and the snake quickly moved off to the back of the couch.

"What's her name?" Harry asked, hesitantly reaching down and petting the basilisk.

"Baby girl's name is Aviva. My name is Cain, for what it's worth," the man said. He looked Harry over while the child payed attention to the snake in his lap. He made an almost disappointed sound in the back of his throat before leaning back on the couch. "And to be honest, kid, you look a bit lost," he said.

Harry hesitated a moment before looking up at Cain, silently inspecting the man. He was still tall sitting down, which was slightly intimidating to the boy, but Harry didn't feel particularly in danger with him. Cain was dark-skinned, and had a shaven head, but he didn't look too old. He rather reminded Harry of some of the University-aged students that used to pick up their younger siblings after school, and he was dressed similarly to them as well - baggy black jeans and an olive green muscle shirt. He looked back up at Cain, who was watching him with concern glinting in his dark eyes. "I'm Harry," he said quietly, looking back down at the basilisk curled up in his lap.

"So, Harry," Cain drawled. His eyes momentarily flickered up to the scar on Harry's forehead before he picked up the ball python from the back of the couch and gently stroked her head. "And are you running away from home on your own, or did you not get a choice in the matter?" he asked as the python curled around his hand, flickering her tongue at the larger snake in Cain's lap.

"They ditched me at the airport," Harry muttered, smiling slightly as Aviva draped herself around his shoulders and started inspecting him more thoroughly. "They told me that I was going to go with them on vacation because I was going to carry my cousin's things. We got to the airport and they disappeared." He hesitated a moment. "They didn't come back and I got scared, so I started running," he said quietly.

Cain nodded, saying nothing for a moment.

"I'm not lying," Harry said, looking over at the man.

"I never said you were, kid," he said. He set the python down on the back of the couch and looked over at Harry. "You look too skinny. You want something to eat?" he asked.

He nodded. "Can Aviva stay with me?" Harry asked, suddenly reaching a hand up to pet the basilisk lightly on her head. "Please?"

"Sure, kid," Cain said. He picked up the snake in his lap and stood up, putting the snake on one of the nearby branches. "This way," he said before walking back to the doorway that he'd walked out of a few moments ago.

Harry stood up and followed him, keeping a hand on Aviva's head. Struck with a sudden though, he hurried over to walk next to Cain. He tugged on the hem of the man's shirt as Cain walked through the archway to push open a plain brown door. "Can I stay here and live with you?" he asked.

Cain looked down at him, saying nothing as he looked around the room, which was fashioned to be something of an office. He walked over to the desk and set Harry's bag on top of it before looking back at the boy.

"I'll help you with the snakes as much as I can, and I won't be bad or anything," Harry said.

The older man seemed to think about it for a long moment before pulling on a pair of sneakers and grabbing a zip-up sweatshirt. "Your family really got rid of you? I can't babysit you and then get into trouble for helping you hide," he said.

Harry shook his head as Cain pulled the sweatshirt on. "They never liked me anyway," he replied. "Uncle would beat me when I misbehaved, and he didn't stop my cousin when he beat me." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and glared at the floor. "They always said that I would be better off dead, anyway," he said with a scowl.

"Alright," Cain said. He pulled a zip-up sweater off the coat-rack and offered it to Harry, who shook his head.

"It's warm enough outside without a coat," Harry said.

Cain grinned. "To you, kid, maybe," he said. "But I spend most of my time here and I've gotten used to the almost excessive warmth. You'll get used it too, if you really want to live here with me."

Harry returned the grin. "I do," he said.

Cain nodded. "I'm looking forward to it," he said. "But first, I'm taking you across the courtyard to Pepper's and we'll get something to eat. Aviva's going to have to stay here until we get back," he said. "Folks in the yard don't take kindly seeing a basilisk out in the open."

Harry frowned again, feeling distinctly reluctant to lose contact with Aviva. "If I wear the sweater and she stays hidden, can she stay with me?" he asked.

Cain hesitated a moment before nodding. "Keep her hidden, and I mean it," he said.

Harry nodded and pulled on the sweater, which was far too big for him. He struggled for a moment, but managed after a moment to push his hands out of the sleeves in the sweater.

Cain grinned at the sight. "Do you want pepperoni or cheese pizza?" he asked once Aviva was sufficiently hidden inside the sleeves of the sweater.

"I don't know," Harry said. "I've never had pizza before."

"Really?" Cain asked. He straightened himself a bit before grinning. "Pepper's going to have a field day with you," he said. "Let's go."

And just like that, Harry Potter fell off the map.