Tiger, Tiger.

After an Animagus potion gone wrong, Harry becomes a tiger and is unable to change back. Though, without the weight of the world on his shoulders, Harry enjoys his new body, until something happens to make him go back to Hogwarts in the possession of Draco Malfoy. HBP. AU. OOC.

Pairings: Harry/Draco one hundred per cent, there will be Blaise/Luna and eventually Neville/OC. Not much more romance other than this, maybe some off screen romance, I don't know, I haven't decided yet.

Warnings: there might be strong language, possible gory scenes in the future. I'll warn you though, so don't worry if you're squeamish. Probably a bit of underage drinking. Also bashing of the Dumbles, the Ronikins, the Bookworm and the Weaselette! Possible OC as well, as of now though, I am undecided.

I don't own Harry Potter by J. K. Rowling or the poem 'Tyger, Tyger' by William Blake. Also anything you might recognise from other fics on this site or another site is purely coincidental. Enjoy!

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"Blah," Talking.

Blah, thoughts.

~*~Blah, ~*~ Parseltongue

Blah, mental bond.

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In which snakes are plotting

.

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A man, pale faced and red eyed, sat in a throne like chair, thinking. A large snake was curled around his shoulders and his long, bony fingers were rubbing his temples, an action he had unknowingly inherited from his long dead father. In the corner of the sparsely decorated room stood a man, his balding head bowed and his watery blue eyes darting across the room, often flickering between the slumbering snake and the door. His hands were curled into his chest, clutching a small wooden box and his nose twitched sporadically. In front of Lord Voldemort knelt a broken man. His once shining blond hair hung limply around his gaunt, dirty and unshaven face. His breathing was shallow and erratic and his once pale blue robes were torn and splattered in various different types of alcohol, mainly Irish Fire Whiskey, the strongest alcohol in the world. (I am Irish so please don't think I'm slagging Ireland or the Irish or promoting our drunken stereotype.)

Lucius Malfoy held a book, a book which Lord Voldemort wanted. There was an old pureblood ritual which was said to bring eternal youth in exchange for half of your soul and this was the only book in existence with the instructions. Lord Voldemort was no stranger to soul mutilation and wanted to be back in his youthful and handsome body. He halted the movement of his fingers on his head and held out his osseous hand. "Lucius… you have failed Lord Voldemort once… but he is a merciful master and gave you a second chance… this time you have pleased him… now hand over the book and get out of my sight." With a short bow, Lucius kissed the hem of Voldemorts robes and handed the leather bound, blood stained book to his master, before scurrying out of the room, hunched over in submission.

"Wormtail, bring me a drink." Wormtail didn't hesitate as he shuffled over to the imposing figure. He placed the wooden box on a small table and opened it, revealing a bottle of wine and a wine glass. Pouring the red liquid in the crystal glass, he placed it in the offered hand and left the room. He knew his master would just order his out of the room anyways.

The self-proclaimed Lord sipped the crimson liquid and sighed before chugging the entire glass down followed by the bottle. He soon lost himself in a drunken haze and didn't notice his serpentine familiar's departure from the room.

Nagini, however, ignored the intoxicated man for the open door. It wasn't often that she got a chance like this. Voldemort thought that she was his Horcrux, but she, once a lonely snake looking to go to Brazil, was already bonded with another magic wielder. Harry Potter had been but a mere boy when they had first meet. He was the first human to talk to her and she was the first snake to talk to him. He had not known when he freed her from the zoo all those years ago the some of his magic latched onto her, fortuitously making her a magical animal. Before Harry came she was just your average captive bred twelve feet long and as thick as a man's thigh reticulated python, but now she had magic. When Voldemort had attempted to make a Horcrux of her it failed, but he didn't know that his soul piece still resides in him and not in the snake. She knew however, and was appalled to think that the man wanted to make her a mindless servant and a host to his evil soul. She had been happy enough to stay with the man until that time when he killed Bertha Jorkins. Since then, however, she had been planning and plotting. She wanted to go back to her true master. And, she thought as she nosed out the door and past a quaking Wormtail, no one was going to stop her.

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So it turns out I have some sort of gland disorder with an extremely long and stupid name. I had an operation on them the other day, which was stressful because it was in my mouth and down my throat. I'm still in the hospital; I'm actually using one of my doctor's laptops to write this, and I don't have a lot of time. Nuff about me, Diagon Alley is next chapter, which will ONE HUNDRED PRECENT be longer than this pitiful one. How do you like Nagini? And Voldemort? Please review, though I don't get out for another week and a bit so it'll be a while till I can read them…

On the whole,

I'm secretly annoyed with you

0_o

And to The 13th Heart, I actually lost the proper translation for the spell, here's a rough translation from Google translate:

Blood and Blood, Soul to Soul

Of the soul,

Join the magic of magic in this Ritual Choir

Yeah…I don't know either.