Author's Note: Three things.
1) I can't write accents to save my life, so I apologize if Hagrid sounds strange.
2) /word/ denotes parseltongue
3) For those who are reading this, I really am trying to get to the point. Please bear with me.
Enjoy!
The soft wind tossed Harry's jet-black hair as he, Ron, and Hermione walked across the lawn to Hagrid's hut for their Care of Magical Creatures lesson. They were eager to see Hagrid, if not what creature he brought. They saw the gamekeeper's tall form standing behind his hut, one hand firmly holding his black boarhound, Fang, in place. Before him was a very large crate. Harry eyed it nervously as he stepped up.
"Okay, everyone, gather 'round," said Hagrid, beckoning the Gryffindors closer as the Slytherins, lead by Malfoy, idly made their way over.
"So, I wonder what monster is going to try to eat us this week," Malfoy said, sneering at Harry. Harry meant to glare back, but a low hiss from the crate stopped him. It sounded like a warning.
"Right. Today we are going to be looking at a naga."
"Naga?" Harry asked. He looked at Hermione and Ron. Ron looked nervous and Hermione shot him a sideways glance.
"Well, Potter," said Malfoy. "Looks like this will be right up your alley."
"Er, well, yeah," Hagrid mumbled. "Naga's are giant serpents, snakes, found in India. They have jewels in the middle of their foreheads that give the snake its magic powers. Its bite is extremely venomous, but its not likely te bite."
Again, a low hiss rolled out of the crate. "Don't count on it," Harry murmured. Ron and Hermione and, strangely, Malfoy all glanced at him.
"Now, it is hard to get your hands on one of these little devils, but most wizards find they are well worth the trouble. Ye see, the naga's magic, generated by the jewel, is very powerful and can actually be felt by touching the creature." Hagrid lifted the top of the crate. "Who wants to try?"
No one moved.
"Make Potter do it," Malfoy said. Hagrid frowned at him. Harry and Ron glared. "He's a parseltongue. The snake's not likely to bite him."
Everyone looked at Harry. Hagrid rumbled thoughtfully, turning to Harry. "Do you want to try?"
Harry mentally sighed. Why him? "Sure."
He walked up and cautiously peered over the edge of the crate. A large snake was curled at the bottom. It turned its head, which was as large as Harry's hand, to him. The naga was a beautiful green, but the jewel was as deep and rich as a perfect gemstone, a brilliant, unfathomable green, with eyes that matched. Harry was pulled away from his observation of the serpent by a presence behind him. Malfoy was standing close, literally leaning over his shoulder. They glared at each other momentarily, faces inches away, as the rest of the students gathered close.
A low hiss of warning turned Harry's attention back to the beautiful serpent. It raised its head, observing the students. It seemed agitated. "/Hello/," Harry hissed, startling several people. The naga looked at him, seemingly surprised.
"/You speak the language of the split-tongued ones?/"
"/Yes./"
"/It has been long since I have heard the language from a human tongue. Where are we?/"
"/We are at my school. We are learning about nagas./" Harry smiled sheepishly. "/You are our lesson./"
The naga blinked at him. "/I see./"
"/May I touch you?/" Harry asked politely.
The naga nodded.
"What did you say to it?" Lavender asked, curious. Harry glanced at her.
"He wanted to know where we were. I told him and asked if I could touch him," he replied, reaching into the crate. The naga never moved, patiently waiting for his hand. His fingers touched the tip of its nose and power coursed through his hands in a warm pulse. Harry slowly ran his hand over the naga, carefully stroking its face. Harry's fingers tentatively touched the jewel. Power rolled through his body in a thrilling rush. The naga hissed in approval as Harry's eyes slid closed, his head lolling in the dizzying rush.
Something hard slammed Harry in the back, sending him sprawling into the crate. His hand slipped, one finger poking the naga in the eye. The serpent hissed in fury and blindly snapped, biting Harry. He cried out, yanking his hand back, cradling it to him. He backed quickly from the crate, everyone quickly following his lead. He glanced up into Malfoy's smirking face.
"Quiet!" Hagrid shouted. Everyone stilled. "I've got an antivenom potion for you, Harry," he said, searching his pockets.
Harry turned to look at Hagrid and the world spun around him. He paused, swaying o the spot. He glanced down. Blood flowed in a thick stream from underneath his clasped hand. Which was actually on his wrist. His heart sank as he lowered his hand. Blood pulsed from his wrist were the naga's large fangs had not only bite him, but had slashed open the flesh. Lavender screamed. Harry's vision started to go dark as he bonelessly slid to his knees. It didn't even hurt.
"Harry!" cried Hagrid as the world went black.
Hot sand warmed the soles of Harry's bare feet. A warm desert wind blew across his chest and made the thin white cotton slacks flap loosely around his legs. He noticed the change of locale and clothing, or lack thereof, with a detached, almost clinical, observation. He felt strangely peaceful. He slowly walked through this desert, not thinking, not feeling, at peace with the warm air that caressed his skin and tosseled his hair.
A soft hiss in parseltongue echoed through the air. He stopped, not raising his glance from the sand. Again the compelling female voice echoed through the air. He raised his eyes and saw before him a breezy white tent made of thin cotton. He slowly walked forward and stepped inside.
The tent was cool and dim, the ground covered in rough leather. White pillows littered the floor. In the back of the tent stood a beautiful woman dressed in a simple white gown. A collar of gold lay across her breasts and shoulders. Her silky black hair caressed her shoulders, held back from her eyes by a circlet that formed a serpent on her forehead. A white gauze cape cloaked her body, accenting the arms bedecked in thick gold bracelets and armbands in the shape of snakes. Her eyes were a brilliant green with bizarre slitted pupils and were heavily lined with black kohl. An enormous serpent had wound its way around her and in her hand she held a gold water pitcher. Before her was a stone pillar with a large gold bowl on it.
Harry stepped forward towards the woman. When he reached her, he sank to his knees onto the pillows before the pillar. She turned her wrist, pouring crystal water from the pitcher into the bowl. When the water settled, she resumed her position. He looked down into the reflective water, at first seeing only his face. He noticed, for the first time, the very pale perfection of his skin, the obsidian contrast of his tossled hair, and the brilliance of his jeweled eyes, similar to the glory of hers. Even the scar seemed complementary. Before his eyes, it began to fill with blood. In a few moments it had began to ooze and two drops fell, shattering the perfection of the crystal water. The blood, however, did not dissipate. It remained concentrate, centering themselves over his eyes until they glowed scarlet. Like Voldemort's.
Harry glanced up at the woman. Her face remained neutral. He looked back down at the disturbing red. He lifted one hand and touched the water, cupping the drops of blood. He scooped the blood up. It turned into sand and he tossed it away.
