Harry Potter + the Snake Queen

It was just before eight am on a very hot summer day at the Dursley residence. There were three of the Dursleys. Dudley Dursley, a boy who was too large for his age, Petunia Dursley, Dudley’s toffee-nosed thin-as-a-toothpick mum, and Vernon Dursley, Dudley’s doting father who was about the same proportion-wise as Dudley. Then there was Dudley’s cousin, Harry Potter, who’s family was killed by an evil wizard named Voldemort.

Aunt Petunia is vile a woman as ever there was. She tromped snootily up the creaky old stairs, nervous as ever, and knocked timidly, comparable to a mouse, on Harry’s door. I am of course speaking about Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the boy who’s name was entered into the Goblet of Fire, the boy who was the Hog wart’s seeker for the Gryffindor team. Yes, that Harry Potter.

Anyways, Aunt Petunia knocked on Harry’s door and said, acting as if she had authority over him, “Harry, are you up?” Harry groaned. “No. Harry’s out at the moment.” And pulled the covers over his head. Muffled, he yelled, “Leave me alone, Aunt Petunia!” Aunt Petunia rolled her eyes and sighed. “Harry, come downstairs.” “No. Harry is asleep.” “Then you aren’t going to know the news. How sad for you.” She said. And with that she poked up her nose and chuffed, as if offended, to Dudley’s room. She wasn’t as acidic with him as she was to Harry but gave him the overall same message.

Moaning, Harry tumbled feet first out of bed, hitting his head on his trunk on the way down. “Ouch!” he said as he rubbed his head thoroughly over the bumped area. ‘What can Aunt Petunia possibly want to tell me?’ thought Harry grumpily as he could not stand his treatment at this insufferable house. He looked sleepily at the clock. Hedwig cooed, concerned for her young master. “Its only eight in the morning? Is she batty?” he said to Hedwig, who cooed in response, but none-the-less, he went down stairs.

In his ancient blue pajamas, Harry staggered groggily down the stairs and into the living room. He could only imagine what Dobby would have liked to do to his despicable family. The last time his Aunt and Uncle had guests over, it was for a job interview, Dobby dropped a cherry decorated cake on the wife of the boss of the job Uncle Vernon was applying for. And Harry had taken the blame for it unwillingly. “Finally!” snorted Uncle Vernon, sitting on the couch. Harry tried to stop himself from picturing his Uncle as a toad. Aunt Petunia, the toffee-nose, hissed at him. “Can you possibly ho any slower?”

“Try me.” Said Harry. Aunt Petunia quickly cut off Uncle Vernon’s glare at Harry and gave him her own personal glare. “Anyhow, we’re all here, yeh?” came a voice from the stairwell that could easily be recognized as Dudley’s. Then, Dudley promptly tumbled head first down the stairs. “Now we are.” Said Harry as they rushed to help ‘Dudder-wudders’ up. “Petunia, tell us already. My breakfast is getting chilly! Can’t you jut tell us all now.” said Uncle Vernon impatiently. “Honestly, Vernon. There is a reason for that thing in the kitchen called a microwave.” Petunia snapped at him, groaning under Dudley’s weight.

Once they were all seated somewhat comfortably in the living room, Petunia finally let out. “We are adopting a girl from some orphanage in Little Hangleton.” Harry looked at Dudley and vise versa. They knew that life was not going to get any easier. Harry protested to Aunt Petunia. “But Aunt Petunia, where will she sleep? With Marge over so often-”

“No time for that! Go change into your good clothes Dudley and Harry… well… find something… eh… decent to wear.” Aunt Petunia rushed them. “She’ll be here in about twenty minutes or so. Hurry yourselves up!” Easy for her to say. Dudley had a new Tuxedo where as Harry had his dress robes. He borrowed the tie from those and found a pair of old pants that hardly fit but were long and would work well enough. Then he topped it all off with a white shirt. Then the doorbell rang and he heard Aunt Petunia shriek with delight. “Come in, darling, come in! Oh how very lovely to meet you. Boy, Dudley! Come meet your new sister! NOW!!”

Harry trudged downstairs half-heartedly followed by Dudley. Uncle Vernon walked out of the kitchen. Next to Aunt Petunia stood a little girl with blonde hair and green eyes. She was dressed in Hogwarts robes and had… Harry sighed.

A green tie. A Sytherin, and in the same house. What would Ron and Hermione think of this: A female reincarnation of Malfoy? He didn’t even want to think about what Malfoy would say. Especially not Malfoy. DEFINITELY not Malfoy.

The girl looked around. Then Uncle Vernon stepped forward, polite as an elephant can be. “Hello. I’m Vernon. Call me Uncle Vernon if you will. And this strapping young gentleman is our son Dudley.” She stuck out her hand to Harry. “Nice to meet you, Dudley.”

Dudley laughed, hard. “Him! Dudley? I’m Dudley. That’s Harry.” “Shut your face, Dudley.” Harry hissed. “Oh. Sorry.” She said, and looked at her feet, ashamed. Then she looked up again. “Hello Harry.” She said and this time he shook her hand. “Hello.” She wasn’t so bad. Apparently not all Slytherin members are evil praisers. She wasn’t ugly either, but he would not date a Slytherin. Malfoy would have a FEILD day when he found out.

“And I am Missis Petunia, but you may call me, oh please call me, mum or Auntie Petunia.” Aunt Petunia said beaming delightedly. Harry had never seen such a happy look on Aunt Petunia’s face. Then again, she was surrounded by men, and of course, her pig of a son, all day long, every day. “Oh. It’s so nice to have another lady in the house.” She shook the girls hand excitedly. “How lovely. I simply love your hair, dear. Its so light and thin.” Then Aunt Petunia let her go, but she continued beaming at the poor girl who, without hesitation, pulled away. Aunt Petunia apparently hadn’t noticed or didn’t want to notice at all.

The girl looked back at Harry, then at his scarred forehead. “Harry Potter?” she said. Harry followed her gaze to his scar. He rolled his eyes. ‘Of course, she just HAS to notice that.’ Thought Harry to himself, careful not to express it on the outside. “Yes. That would be me. And you are?” Her vivid green eyes opened wide in shock. “Oh my! I’m so VERY sorry! How terribly informal of me! My name is Brighid. Brighid Jormundgand Riddle. It’s so very nice to be your new sister. I just know we’ll get along nicely.” But all Harry could do was replay that moment repeatedly in his mind. He shut his eyes. “Can you repeat your name please.” He asked, anxiously, hoping he had only just heard wrong. But she repeated her name and he had heard correctly.

Background on Brighid's Name: Brighid is the celtic Snake goddess, symbol of serpent wisdom, phsyical healing, and connections with water. Her middle name, Jormundgand, is also a snake goddess but from Norse mythology. She is said to eventually kill the god Thor. And all Harry Potter fans know what her Sur-Name means, yeh?