I am so very sorry for not updating yesterday. My excuses: I had to work and I got a little carried away working on some original stories of mine. Forgive me? Anyways, here's the next chapter. I've finished writing through the end of first year and now get to start planning second year.

Thank you to all of you who have favorited/alerted/reiewed. I've gotten comments about Nagini being exactly like her father (at this point that is what I am going for, but I think she'll be her own person soon enough.)

Disclaimer: the usual

Chapter 6: Dreamings

The Black Forest

Deep in the Black Forest of Albania, there was a place that even the animals avoided. The trees grew thick and tall, preventing sunlight from reaching the forest ground. In the center of the forest, where the trees were centuries old, there was a creature that could possess animals minds. All the animals feared if, for to be possessed meant to die shortly later.

In the center of the haunted forest, Lord Voldemort, or what was left of him, languished in misery. He had fled from the Potter house, broken and in agony, five years ago. He had been hit with a Killing Curse, but he had not died. His experiments had not failed him. He was immortal and almost invincible, but he had no body. At first, he was confident that his faithful Death Eaters would search the world over for him. Sooner or later, he was sure, one of them would find him and would perform the necessary magic to restore him to his body.

But the days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years. He had long given up on his Death Eaters. They were not nearly as faithful as they had once professed to be. They thought him dead, defeated, and so chose to betray him rather than seek him out. Had he not told them he could not be killed? Did they not believe him?

Fortunately, he would not have to hide in the forest forever. Once he realized his followers would not come for him, he placed his hopes with his daughter, Nagini. Of course, she was in no position to help him immediately. She was only one-year old when he left her, after all, but when she was older, she would come for him. He knew she would. He would wait until she was a bit older, and then he would reach out to her in her dreams and teach her about her heritage and the magical world of which she was part.

His spirit was restless, but he would have to wait. And he would wait, if it meant he would return even more powerful than before. And so the years passed. He possessed the animals that ventured near him to regain a semblance of life and maintain his sanity, but over time fewer and fewer animals dared to venture near him. So he spent his time thinking, wondering how he could have been defeated (and by a baby no less) and wondering where Nagini was now and what was happening to her.

Five years passed this way. At that point, he could wait no longer. He had to speak to his daughter, let her know that he was here and was waiting for her. He spent several weeks preparing to venture into her dreams. He sought out unsuspecting animals to possess. He stole their life force, taking their strength for his own. Finally, he was ready.

Nagini, he thought reaching out with his mind. Come, my daughter. I am waiting.

Thousands of miles away, Nagini lay in her bed in the orphanage. The night air was too hot, and the room was too stuffy for her to comfortably sleep. She rolled over and gripped her locket tightly. She stared up at the ceiling. She supposed that even if the room had been perfect, she still would have difficulty falling asleep. There was just so much to think about! From the incident before breakfast when she had performed magic to the note she had found in her locket from her father.

Nagini rolled back onto her side, trying to get comfortable. She absently rubbed her locket with her thumb and sighed. She was tired and could feel her eyelids dropping, but it was unbearably hot in the room. She needed air.

From somewhere deep inside her mind, Nagini heard someone calling her name from far away. Nagini. Come, my daughter. I am waiting. The voice seemed to be coming closer to her, or maybe she was the one moving closer to it. Nagini. Come, my daughter. Nagini felt her eyelids drift together, and she fell into a deep sleep.

She was soaring among the stars, above the city of London. Far below her, the lights were shining brightly, but Nagini felt no fear of falling. She stretched her arms out and swooped and dived. Deep inside her, a memory stirred, a memory of soaring over London many years ago. And still the voice called to her: "Nagini. Come, my daughter. I am waiting."

Nagini flew faster and faster, her hair streaming behind her in the wind. Her eyes watered from the wind, but no tears fell. Soon, she had left the city far behind and was soaring over dark countryside. In the distance, she could hear waves crashing onto shore. The sound grew louder and louder, the farther she flew. Nagini could smell the salt of the sea, and not long after she was soaring over the waves.

The ocean reflected the star-strewn sky, appearing to her as another universe below the waves. Nagini dived, pulling up a foot above the waves. The wind whipped the water, spraying her. She reached out and drew her hand through the silver-gray water. Nagini stretched her neck and breathed deeply, the smell of the salty sea filling her nostrils. And still the voice beckoned her. "Come to me, Nagini. I am waiting."

The voice pulled her to it, and Nagini did not fight it. In her heart, she knew that the voice held the answers to the questions in her heart, and so she allowed herself to be pulled ever-closer to it. In the distance, Nagini saw the dark shape of land. As she flew on, it grew larger and larger until she was soaring over it once again. She flew over the countryside, the night quiet except for the wind rushing through her ears.

Nagini flew higher and higher, not affected by the cooler, thinner air. She passed over mountain ranges, their peaks topped with snow, and over valleys with glittering rivers snaking their way through the grass. She flew over a forest, dark as night and centuries old. The voice was stronger in her mind now. "Come, my daughter. I am waiting for you."

Nagini felt herself slowly as she approached the place where the voice came from. She felt herself dropping, until she could touch the tops of the trees with her fingers if she stretched her arm. Gently, Nagini came to a stop. She floated above the trees for a moment then slowly descended between the branches. She landed lightly on her feet and looked around. The voice was silent, but Nagini saw a soft gray light up ahead. She walked toward it, and stepping through the trees, she saw a clearing. On the other side of the clearing, with his back to her, a man stood.

Nagini slowly stepped into the clearing, and a twig snapped. The man turned around. Nagini paused. He was tall and bald with dark eyes. He wore a cloak that fell to the ground and was staring intently at her. He reached out an arm to her and beckoned to her to come closer. Nagini did, stopping a few feet away from him.

"Are you my father?" she quietly.

The man smiled. "Indeed, I am, Nagini. It has been so long, my daughter. You have grown so much these last five years. You are a beautiful young witch."

Nagini beamed, but something inside her was suspicious. "Why—?" she began, but he raised a hand to forestall her question.

"I am sure you have many questions, and I promise to answer them as best I can, but first I must tell you something." He paused, and Nagini waited expectantly. "A day has not gone by that I did not think of you, my daughter. I've wanted to return to you, but I'm trapped in this forest. I cannot leave."

Nagini's heart lightened. He had not abandoned her after all. He had always wanted to come for her, but he couldn't.

"Come," he continued gesturing her toward a fallen tree. "Let us talk. We have much to discuss." He led her over to the tree and sat down. Nagini sat beside him.

"Where are we," she asked looking at him.

He gazed around the clearing before looking at his daughter. She reminded him of himself at a younger age, the same dark hair, the same green eyes always looking for answers to the questions of the universe. "The Black Forest," he replied. "The place where I have been for the past five years, and where I will be for a few more."

He was silent for a moment, so Nagini spoke up. "I found the note in the locket," she said picking up the locket and showing it to him.

"You still have it? Good," he said approvingly. "I trust, then, that you know you are a witch?"

Nagini nodded happily. "I've done magic, too," she announced proudly.

"Really," he asked smiling. "What happened?"

"I made all the lights go out," she replied. "And the room got colder, and when Betty tried to grab me, she screamed in pain and fell back."

Voldemort smiled triumphantly. She would be a very powerful young witch if that was her first case of accidental magic, but one aspect of her tale confused him. "Who is Betty?" he asked.

"Betty's one of the other orphans," said Nagini. "She used to pick on me, but I don't think she will anymore now that she knows what I can do."

"One of the other orphans?"

Nagini nodded. "I've lived at Ferestael Orphanage for five years, ever since. . . ," she trailed off, uncertainly.

An orphanage. Of course. He felt a curious sensation inside him—pain and sadness, for he never wanted Nagini to have to endure what he had. Mixed with that, though, was also anger—how dare Will Morrison abandon the girl as a one year old. Voldemort vowed to himself that when he regained his power, he would hunt down the wizard in question and seek retribution. Quickly, he pushed the feelings aside; it wouldn't do to lose focus. At the very least, Nagini would gladly follow him anywhere and do anything he asked if it meant that she could leave the orphanage. "Well, Nagini," he said, "I suppose you have many questions, and I promise to answer them, but first let me tell you some things about myself and the magical world to which we both belong."

Nagini nodded and stared at him entranced as he began his tale. He told her a bit about his life, that he was a wizard, a very powerful wizard who was trying to make the world safer for witches and wizards. "Muggles (that is non-magical people) hate us," he told her. "They are scared of us and, as a result, will do anything they can to destroy us." Nagini believed him. She had experienced that over the years at the orphanage.

"Unfortunately," he continued, "there are witches and wizards who have power and do not want to lose their power to the change that our world desperately needs. I can make the world better and safer for us all, but they do not understand that.

"The night I left, I was on a mission. The mission failed, and I was greatly weakened. I fled to the forest where I waited for my followers to come for me. They never did. I gave up on them and, instead, waited for you. When you are older and have had some schooling, you will be able to help me regain my power. Then you and I will change the world so that no witch or wizard will ever have to suffer at the hands of Muggles ever again."

He paused his story to draw breath. Nagini felt touched that her father needed her. She vowed she wouldn't fail him. She would learn all the magic she could, so she could help him escape the forest and regain his strength. Then, they would change the world. Nagini liked the sound of that. She would ensure that no other witch would have to endure what she did. She leaned in closer to him and rested her head on her shoulder, and he, absentmindedly, put his arm around her and held her close. Nagini smiled softly.

"In five years," continued Voldemort, "a professor of Hogwarts will contact you. Hogwarts is a school of magic where you'll live and study for seven year. You will never have to return to the orphanage again. But you must make sure," he added, "that no one at the school knows you are my daughter. Some of my enemies are teachers at the school, and if they knew you were my daughter, they would use you to hurt me. Do you understand?"

Nagini nodded her eyes wide. They would never know she was her father's daughter, she vowed. She would just be another witch, an orphan.

"And when they come for you, they can't know that you already know about Hogwarts and the world of magic." Nagini nodded again. "You must pretend you know nothing, but while you're there, learn all you can. Only then will I call on you to come to be, and we will be together again."

"Of course, father," said Nagini looking him in the eyes. "I won't let you down."

"I know," he said smiling. "You will always make me proud."

In the back of her mind, Nagini felt herself waking up. She stood up and watched the clearing and her father slowly fading before her. As Nagini felt herself drifting away, she heard her father say, his voice getting fainter and fainter, "Remember, Nagini, you are part of a great and ancient line of witches and wizards. Never forget." Nagini tried to tell him that she would remember, but no sound came out. The clearing faded to black, and Nagini woke up with a start.

Breathing heavily, Nagini stared up at the ceiling of the orphanage. She had spoken to her father. He was real and waiting for her. She smiled happily. He never meant to leave her; he thought of her every day and wished he could be with her. She wondered if he would come to her in her dreams again. She hoped so.

Nagini rolled over and gripped her locket. She stared down at the snake etched into its surface. She couldn't wait—until she went to Hogwarts, until she left the orphanage for good, and until she meant her father face-to-face. She would wait, and it would happen. It would all happen. She didn't care what anyone at the orphanage thought of her, not anymore, because one day she would be gone. Yes, she was different, but it was better to be different. She wouldn't change who she was for anything. Nagini closed her eyes and snuggled against her pillow. She couldn't wait. Soon everything would change. . .

Any comments? What do you think about the way Nagini and Voldemort are portrayed in this chapter? Any useful suggestions you could give me. Or grammar—it really bothers me when there is bad grammar in stories, so I hope I caught everything in mine