Harry couldn't even get a word out when Dudley's hands locked around his throat and shoved him back under the water. Although he scrabbled to get loose from the bigger boy's hands, Harry was too weak to overpower Dudley. Panicked that he was on the verge of drowning, he let out a scream underwater—and involuntarily, it came out as snake speech.
Dudley's weight suddenly vanished from him and Harry pushed himself up out of the pool with a gasp. His eyes locked onto a terrifying scene- the python he'd spoken to had its fangs in Dudley's leg and was trying to coil around him. Dudley was shrieking, beating at the snake with his fists while a horrified Petunia tried to yank it off.
"Stop!" Harry cried in snake speech, though it came out choked from water and didn't sound like any sort of language to his cousin or aunt. The python paused and regarded him with one eye, but didn't relinquish its grasp on Dudley. "They'll hurt you!"
Reluctantly, the rock python released Dudley and hissed at Harry's cousin and aunt before retreating to the back of its enclosure. It was only then, as he dragged himself out of the cage, that Harry realized the other snakes in the Reptile House were attacking the glass or looking for a way out. They'd all responded to his cry for help. Once they realized he was alright, they settled down, but the visitors in the Reptile House were understandably startled by their sudden, simultaneous aggression.
Harry leaned against the glass- which had somehow reappeared once he'd climbed out of the cage—while Petunia frantically comforted her son. He made to slide down to the floor only to yelp when a hand roughly grasped his hair and yanked him back into a standing position.
Vernon Dursley's face was almost purple with rage. "You little miscreant!"
"It wasn't me!" Harry cried. "It just happened! It was like magic!"
"There's no such thing as magic!"
The second they got home, Petunia took Dudley upstairs while Vernon threw Harry into the living room, stripping the boy's shirt off with the same motion, and took his belt off. The crack of leather made Harry flinch.
"You've ruined my son's birthday, you freakish boy!" Vernon roared. "No food for three days, starting now! You don't leave that cupboard once I'm finished with you even to use the loo! You can shit and piss and starve in there until I say otherwise!"
Harry covered his head as Vernon brought the belt up to hit him. "It wasn't my fault!"
"It's always your fault!"
The belt's stinging blow on his bare back made Harry cry out in pain. No sooner had Vernon whipped him five times than the door to the cupboard began to rattle.
Vernon stopped and squinted at the small door. "What's that?"
Harry didn't try to rise off the floor, so Vernon grabbed his hair and yanked him up. "What is in there!? Answer me!"
"Nothing!"
"It's obviously not nothing, you idiot!"
Vernon threw Harry aside and marched over to the cupboard, belt at the ready. "If you're keeping some little pet in here, it's as good as dead!"
"No!"
Harry's cry was ignored as Vernon threw the cupboard door open. The fat man brought his belt up, ready to hit whatever was waiting for him, only for his eyes to meet a pair of luminous, amber orbs.
Vernon froze, stock-still where he stood. Harry watched him, terrified that he'd strike the snake who was still too small to properly defend itself. But Vernon did not move. He remained still, as if a statue.
The snake flicked its tongue, glaring at the man, before slithering over to Harry. It utterly ignored Vernon, who continued to stay frozen in place. The other snakes that stayed in Harry's cupboard slithered over to him hurriedly.
"Time to go," whispered the grass snake. "You cannot stay here. The big one will not stay frozen for more than a few minutes."
"What happened?"
"He met my eyes."
Harry blinked at the emerald serpent and its amber eyes. This was the first time it had spoken, and with a voice that was unmistakably feminine. The snake's tongue flicked out. "My eyes are not old enough to kill, but I may petrify those who stare into them for a short time. We must leave now."
"Where can I go?" Harry whispered. "I have nowhere to run."
"Across the street lives an old witch," said the amber-eyed snake. "Run to her. She may have a way for you to escape this place."
The grass and ground snake, as well as the others he'd befriended over the years, looked at him a little sadly. "We cannot go with you. We are too small and weak to protect you. This must be where we part, Harry Potter."
"I will come with you," the amber-eyed snake told a crestfallen Harry. "I am not old, but I can protect you if need be. But we must hurry—the big one will be able to move before long. Take what you must from your small den and let us leave."
Harry did as he was told, although his back was still stinging with agony from the whipping. He rushed to the cupboard, frantically glancing at Vernon in case the big man regained his ability to move again, and grabbed what few possessions he needed to run away—which was basically just his backpack and clothes.
He jumped as the amber-eyed snake slithered into the pack, keeping her head visible just in case she needed to use her eyes again. "We need to go."
"Okay," Harry replied, slipping a fresh shirt on with a wince—his back was stinging horribly. Without glancing at Vernon's frozen form or responding to the calls of Petunia for her husband, Harry ran to the door, opened it up, and fled outside.
He made straight for the house that the golden-eyed snake had told him about. Only one old lady lived down their street- Mrs. Figg.
Praying that she was at home, Harry knocked on her door. It took a few moments, but she eventually answered.
The old lady stared at the tearstained face of the young boy, startled. "Harry? Is something wrong?"
"I…" He wasn't sure what to say. "I need to hide. Something happened at the Zoo and Uncle Vernon is really angry. He—I'm scared he might really hurt me this time."
Figg glanced at the house he'd run from across the street and beckoned him inside. "Right, in you come. I'll warm up some tea for you. Then I'll call someone to come help you, dearie."
Harry hurried inside of the house, relieved that he'd found an escape—for now.
Figg sat him down on the couch and made him some tea. While Harry drank, tired and hurting, the old woman walked to the kitchen and wrote a quick letter. She stuck it in an envelope and walked to the window nearest the back door, where an owl was sitting.
She gave the bird the letter and murmured quietly. "Take that straight to the Aurors on standby."
The bird let out a hoot and took off, carrying its cargo into the sky.
Harry wasn't sure how long he'd been in Mrs. Figg's house when someone knocked loudly on the door. He stiffened—if Vernon found him now, he was dead.