Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 17: Albus Agapanthus

Harry's ears were still ringing from the shrill abuse of Aunt Petunia's shouts when she'd returned from the market to find that the polished silver was not perfectly shiny and blemish-free. She was also horrified that he'd barely made a dent in the pile. Harry really had tried his best and worked slowly and carefully. He knew what would come crashing down on his head (the frying pan) if he did a shoddy job.

She'd finally sent him up to his room in disgust. He was thankful for a little peace and quiet and a chance to stash the school supplies under the floorboard. He'd write to Hermione after he took a nap.

He felt as though he'd barely closed his eyes when Aunt Petunia was rapping on his door again. Apparently recovered from her vexation at the job he'd done with the silver, she had demanded that he weed around the Albus Agapanthus in the front yard. He started at the name Albus, then remembered that it was the name of the tall stalky flowers with round white heads.

How funny that Aunt Petunia has a lily named Albus in her yard.

He stifled a groan and rolled out of bed, feeling around for his trainers. It'd be nice to be outside again. Maybe Nio hus cherio kisa would be out there.

How on earth am I going to weed?

He paused at the front door, remembering the layout of the garden. The Agapanthus lined the walkway up to the house. They were dense, any weeds would be hidden under layers upon layers of their grass-like leaves.

He stepped onto the porch, remembering arriving here with Madam Pomfrey a few weeks before; it seemed like an eternity. He slid his foot forward to locate the front steps, there was nothing to hold onto, no wall or banister and for a moment he felt like he was venturing out into nothingness. He shook his head and reminded himself that he'd just been placing the pots of petunias on this porch. Of course, that was with the guidance of Nio hus cherio kisa.

Maybe his little friend was near. He called out in parseltongue softly and waited. He heard a rustling nearby and sat down on the step.

"Is that you, Little Friend?"

"Yes, Big Friend. It is I."

Harry felt a warmth swell in his chest.

"My Aunt wants me to weed around the Agapanthus, could you help me?"

"What is weed?" asked the snake.

This made Harry chuckle. What would a snake know of weeding? He explained and the snake was eager to help because he quickly realized that Harry would be unearthing insects in the process. Harry felt the round head of the Agapanthus, fingering the delicate, tiny white lilies.

My mom's name, Lily, he thought as he bent to sniff the flower, but was disappointed that it had no fragrance.

Once Nio hus cherio kisa could identify the weeds (which was pretty straightforward in this part of the garden as a weed was anything that wasn't an Agapanthus), he'd help guide Harry's hands to them and Harry would pluck them out, then Nio hus cherio kisa would gobble up the earthworms and beetles and other insects exposed by the upturned earth. Harry quickly learned that he could distinguish the weeds by touch... not just by the shape of their leaves, but also by the way they felt as they were pulled out of the ground. Each root system held onto the dirt differently.

Harry and Nio worked their way companionably down the path toward the pavement and the street as the sounds of the neighborhood buzzed around them... the occasional passing car, chirping birds (Harry hadn't really noticed before how many different sounds they made), and the chattering of squirrels. At one point a flock of geese flew directly overhead. Harry really liked listening to their honking as they approached and then flew over and the sound diminished in the distance. It was a huge flock.