The things I do for my friends.
This was a request by the loveliest PieceOfGum, who wished to see a Nagini/Merope and treated me to the following summary:
Part I: Alright, so Nagini's in love with Merope, but Merope loves Tom Riddle, so Nagini lets her run off with the man she loves Casablanca-style. Angst. However, after a tragic misunderstanding, Nagini's put under the impression that Tom Riddle, desperate to get Merope, had given her love potion, and so, determined to save her true love, Nagini sets out to rid the Riddle household of all amortentia. She also sleeps with Merope who gets pregnant. Then drama, then she (Merope) dies.
Thank you, love. I shall eagerly await your Hermione/Crookshanks, now.
And yes, a Part Two will follow, featuring Tom Marvolo Riddle annnnd Nagini. Fun! (This is also why Tom's parentage isn't called into question in this part yet. Come on – poor, darling Merope was brain-scarred enough. Enough to pop her baby out and die, anyway… so… Who knows, if she'd known poor child would be part Nagini, maybe she wouldn't even have bothered to survive till the end of her pregnancy, and then no Dark Lord. No way!)
(Also, we are all going to kindly overlook Nagini being a female for the purpose of this fic, yes? It was hard enough to picture some snake/human smut and then write it. We'll assume that Nagini's DNA sneaked its way into the mix somehow. Bear with me, please and thank you.)
(I also forgot to mention: snake/human smut ahead. You have been warned.)
I'll shut up. On to Act One: Shattered Harmonies. -drum roll-
She had travelled far, far across the world, from the hot and wild land of her forerunners to this country of cool rain and raw magic. She'd been an egg in some wizard's pocket, and then she had broken free, for fate had led her exactly where it wished her to be.
It had been written forever, that the two of them should meet.
Nagini slithered across the sun-deprived ground, in the mud sticking to her smooth scales. A long-dead little sister was pinned to the door; she hissed low her displeasure, despite being long accustomed to the place and the sight. This hole was where were bred the heirs of Salazar Slytherin, the man who spoke to snakes, and here she had met her true mate – the missing half of her soul.
Stealthily, she circled the wreck of a house, careful not to be spotted but by the eyes of her beloved. She had no wish for the wretched men to know of her existence. The old, rude and cruel master of the pitiful place would have gloated over her as though she were a belonging of his, and his stupid son would have harassed her into exhaustion, both of them dying to make her a common pet for their pathetic pride and pleasure. No – they only deserved to live for they were related to her.
And her precious love stumbled out the door at long last, a blurry, beloved shape that swayed towards her warily. Nagini flicked her tongue and smelled the heat of the witch's skin, the rich, tangy scent that was a mix of vegetables, earth and a hint of sweat. Merope – her father deserved to live for giving her a beautiful name, the sole act of selflessness of his whole life. Her hair hung around her face as she crouched to the ground.
"Hello, friend," she greeted her, sweet, sibilant affection lacing the softly hissed words.
"Hello," she hastily replied, with a glance towards the house. "Nagini, you cannot come here anymore. I have so much work – so much work. You cannot imagine. Everyday they give me more. I have no time at all to see you."
Nagini's fangs flashed in her discontentment. "Should I break their necks and drink their blood?"
"No!" Merope yelped, "I've told you this before – where would I go – what would I do if I were alone? Left alone, in this world – not knowing anything or anyone?"
"Merope, you can never be alone. You have me." Her body twisted on the ground, shaping circles like embraces. Merope's hand twitched, but lay still on her lap.
"I know, sweet. You've been a great help." With keen human eyes the witch stared away into the distance, into sights and ideas Nagini could not perceive. "But I need – " Merope couldn't voice what she needed.
"You need freedom."
"Perhaps. But I can't. I can't!" Wringing her hands together, she was a pitiful picture in the mud and the darkness drenching her, her hair swaying limply as she shook her head. Nagini flicked her tongue once more.
"Are you thinking about him again?"
"Yes," she confessed quickly, eagerly, "oh, if only things were different!" Ever so slightly she straightened up, taking a deep breath. Nagini was aching from the unfairness of it all. The man, the man should have been food, deserved no better. But at least Merope would never go.
"I have to leave you." She picked herself up from the ground, hovering. The snake raised her head.
"I will see you soon."
"Yes, if I can. Yes." She was stepping back hastily. "Nagini, you're my only friend."
"I know. I know." She watched the silhouette disappear. It was starting to rain again coolly, softly, sadly.
Nagini made her bitter retreat, thirsting for blood.
Everything was disturbed, the scent and setting of the place first of all. For days Nagini had had to hide, away from the house, for the wizards who had been coming in packs would not have let her get away with her freedom, she was sure of it. Now the spot reeked of vicious curses and emptiness. Nagini rushed across the woods, panic pulsing like a trapped rodent in her insides. She reached the empty doorframe just as Merope was stepping through it, shaky and in a hurry.
"Merope," the serpent hissed, relief upon still finding her there swiftly fading to leave further apprehension in its place, "where are you going?"
"I have to go," she said bluntly, trying to step around the huge, tense snake, "I cannot stay here."
"Where? I'll come with you."
"No!" she cried, determination hardening her weak face, "I am free now – now that they're gone – I am running away with Tom, very soon! I have to meet him right now!"
Nagini reeled back. "He does not love you."
"Yes he does!" The witch hovered awkwardly, afraid to jump over the mass of coils. "Let me go, please let me go. Don't make me curse you."
She had never accepted help, salvation from the family who had mistreated her, and now that she eventually held the gift of her freedom, she was leaving the faithful friend for the scornful and arrogant lover, begging her as though she were her enemy. Stunned and devastated, Nagini crawled backwards, watching her hurry off, her head held higher than it had ever been.
The snake lay there in her misery, heavy with grief and disbelief, feeling numb as an emptied skin. Merope was gone a long time; when she came back, her clothes wrinkled and stinking of bliss, loathing and wild jealousy took over Nagini's depression, and she slithered her wrathful way through the forest, leaving a trail of blood behind and vowing never to see the witch again.
Nagini did not heed her promise, but Merope did. After many days of rebellious fury, the reptile eventually came back to an empty house; and Riddle Manor proved equally devoid of its youngest occupant, confirming that the pair had eloped indeed.
At first the snake accepted this; then, as the pain was growing stronger and sharper each day, she convinced herself that it was but her duty to track Merope and see her one last time, merely to make sure that she was as happy as she should be. It was a long and difficult process finding the witch, but Nagini knew her beloved's scent better than anything in the world, and so she ended up stumbling upon the tiny house in the countryside close to London where Mr and Mrs Tom Riddle had taken up residence.
From a distance Merope seemed taller and smelled sort of healthier, as though a long-restrained part of her had been coming back to life. The lowly, magicless being she had wedded would kiss her before he left for work and do many things to her that left her flushed and merry, while Nagini would boil with disgust and jealousy. The couple appeared happy and living in perfect harmony, to the serpent's great dismay as she had been treasuring the idea of finding them a failure and a disaster and freeing Merope from the clutches of a miserable marriage with her very own fangs. It was obvious that she was not needed; her precious did not want her love, preferred by far a common Muggle man, and the fact hurt more than she could express, the anguish of her forbidden, one-sided affection searing without ever showing any sign of healing. Clearly she had to go, yet the prospect felt unbearable beyond anything she had experienced thus far, and she resolved to talk to Merope one last time before she could slip out of her life forever. She had to say goodbye.
The reptile came one quiet spring morning, after the man had left Merope for the day. She entered the place silently and glided across several rooms, looking for the mistress of the house; but a tenuous scent stopped her right on her tracks as she was preparing to go up the stairs. Wafting from a room which door had been left slightly ajar, it was a strange mix of aromas she knew all too well – the wet forest she was born in, fresh blood, still-warm flesh and… Merope's skin, the smell that always clung to her dress as she stepped out after a long day doing chores around the Gaunts' house – subdued somehow and yet tangy with repressed life force, rich earth resting underneath the dust. Yes, it smelled of her beloved and she was drawn straight to the source – to a kitchen where, in the corner inside a large pan, cooled a clear, harmless-looking potion.
Nagini was strongly agitated by her discovery. She was no fool, and snakes of such high breeding as she was were well used to the company of wizards: doubtlessly the potion was one of those love elixirs she had heard so much about, and obviously the trap was designed for Merope – it didn't have her scent for no reason. The Muggle would have coaxed magical secrets out of her, before brewing the concoction in the first kitchen appendage he could get his hands on, without the slightest respect. Even if it was weak, combined with the remnants of her old crush, it would prove to be vastly sufficient to ensure her remaining faithfully by his side, falsely convinced of the legitimacy of her own happiness. She could see no other explanation. What awful treachery. Nagini kept her fury under control; she could wreck through the whole room later, but first she had to find Merope.
The snake crawled up the stairs into the darkness of the bedroom, beside herself with the intensity of the emotions flashing through her – wrath, bloodlust, relief, desire. Merope lay sleeping in her bed and the hot scent of her skin rose from beneath the sheets to reach her avid tongue and cling to it, saturating her perceptions and only maddening her further. Fitting – it was so fitting, that she would find her there helpless, offered, a victim it was up to her to set free, that they would share this intimate moment before she saved her from the clutches of the vile, vile Muggle man. Nagini slid up the side of the bed and crawled her way under the covers.
O sweet, submerging bliss. Nagini's tongue flicked out, dancing along Merope's bare arm, savouring her. The woman sighed in her sleep and the creature glided up her shoulder, slowly, the breath hitching in her nostrils. And her fangs delicately found the straps of her nightdress, ripping it away.
Merope's eyelids fluttered as the fabric parted from her and the cool air brushed her flesh ever so gently. She slid slowly into her back, confused and oblivious still, and Nagini's head found her chest, found itself cradled between her breasts as her tail wrapped around her legs, mildly pushing them apart. The woman's eyes widened as she registered the feel of the cool scales, pressed flush against her body while the creature's tongue drew subtle circles upon naked skin. The coldness felt eerie, the smooth surface a queer caress and she couldn't quite tell what was happening to her. Hisses serenaded wordless reassurances in a language she knew from her deepest instincts, and Salazar's blood boiled within her heated veins, lulling her into sweet surrender to the foreign and soft embrace.
Her limbs tangled up with the supple, powerful body of the serpent, and Merope's eyes drifted shut again, assuming a dream. A gasp flew faintly from her parted lips. The touch hugged and held her from beneath the sheets, speaking of safety, of belonging like a distant reality. It roused a deep serenity from the roots of her being.
Nagini soaked herself in the witch's heat, leaving a trail of dreamlike coldness from the pale neck to the depths of her. Her desire satisfied, she coiled beside the contented body, and drifted into slumber, still hidden in a shelter of warmth with her head nestled against Merope's side.
A shriek awoke her.
Nagini jolted into awareness, thinking her beloved was being assaulted. Merope sat up in the bed, the fallen sheets baring her flesh and revealing the snake resting beside her, and a look of pure horror was twisting her features. The woman writhed away, frantically kicking her legs free from the heavy coils. "Get away from me!" she screeched, her shrill voice piercing the silence.
Nagini reared back, wounded. "You wanted it," she accused, "you enjoyed it!"
"I thought – " Merope choked, "I thought it was a dream, a strange dream – I didn't understand what was happening to me!"
"Either you are deluding yourself," the serpent stated, "or if such dreams are nothing but the ordinary to you… well, I am afraid both come down to the same meaning."
Merope's hands were white upon the sheets.
"I am married," she whispered, "I am in love. I thought I would never so much as see you again, and I would never have imagined…" Her voice derailed. "Get out. GET OUT!"
The potion speaks, Nagini thought ragefully as she dropped from the bed and left. The potion spoke and it was her duty to forgive – to endure, for she could save her beloved. She would.
The serpent reached the kitchen again. Here was the pan full of the potion, and a vial lay alongside it, waiting to be filled. Only two drops would be necessary to perform their wretched task. Such a vial, once filled, would do for a month… or so it should.
The creature crawled up to the vial and very carefully uncorked it with the tip of her tail before she placed her fangs delicately against the rim. Two drops of venom at the bottom and the entire potion would be ruined, without any risk for Merope. The Muggle was in for a nasty surprise.
Leaving everything else just as she had found it, she retreated to wait outside the house, until the time came.
Watching the Muggle leave was a heady triumph. He escaped quite fast, his face tense with fury; but Merope herself didn't appear for days, and Nagini allowed her the necessary time to accept what had happened to her and deal with her disgust and humiliation, before she had to face her saviour. Eventually, however, she grew frantic, and slipped into the house again, looking for her lover.
Merope lay curled on the sofa, still and blank-faced, clutching a cushion to her chest. At the sight of the serpent her features twisted and she half-rose from her slumped position, hissing angrily: "You are not welcome here! Never again!"
"He left now, my sweet," Nagini spoke with all due patience, pausing a ways away from the woman. "You are rid of him for good. I know that this is difficult. But it was not your fault."
"He left me!" she wailed. "It stopped – it stopped working and he left me! And you! You dare come here and taunt – stay away!" She folded herself up, arms wrapping tightly around her middle as she shook with grief and wrath. "He would not – he would not even stay for us…"
"Merope, you were cursed. You were deluded…" The reptile attempted her first move forward.
"Don't touch me! Don't touch us!" the woman cried, shaking her head wildly. Her scent hit Nagini – it was heavier than usual, heavy with despair, and something was different.
"There is no more us, Merope." She glided closer still. "Not the way you mean it. Just you and me. Like it always should have been."
"No!" she repeated fiercely. "There's my baby. You stay away from my baby – you will never touch me again!"
She froze, shock stealing her thoughts. "Baby?"
"You will never touch him," she panted, "you will not soil him like you soiled me." Her shape was half bent over, arms cradling her still-flat belly. At the core of her, that place of heat and secrecy, a Muggle had left his mark, more lasting than any trick, any curse. Nagini reeled with the implications, taken by a terrible urge to tear her open and rip away the unwelcome being, in any possible way.
"But he tricked you," she breathed, "and I freed you…"
Merope tensed up, straightening slowly. "I am leaving," she finally spoke, "I don't want to know any more – I don't want to hear anything from you. I don't want to know what you did. Only… only my baby matters now. I will bring him to the world if that's the last thing I do, but I swear to you that I will never see you again."
The snake did not move. "I will not let you go."
"Kill me then. Let me leave, or kill me, but I will die sooner than to stay your prisoner." Merope's voice held more resolve than Nagini had ever known her to have. She could not force the witch to remain. She was powerless to stop her, powerless to harm her. She had been from the start, hanging from the threads of Merope's feeble will. And Merope wanted the child, regardless of anything else. That, and to be freed of her presence.
The snake slowly slithered back, unable to take her eyes of the witch before the very last moment – and then she left the house.
By nightfall there was no more Merope; she fled like a thief, an elusive silhouette and after a few months not the slightest trace was left of her, no matter where the serpent searched.
The woman faded away, and only memory remained.
