Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the "Harry Potter" series created by J.K. Rowling. The characters, settings, and magical world depicted here belong to her and are used without permission for the sole purpose of fan appreciation and storytelling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made from this fanfiction work. All original elements in this story are the creation of the author.
The tale of Nagini and Voldemort is one of intertwining destinies and complex relationships, set against a backdrop of dark magic, ambitions, and quests for immortality. It's a tale that has never been fully explored, but in this short story, I attempt to fill in the gaps.
Chapter 1: The Circus and the Orphanage (1926)
The dust from the circus ring clung to Nagini's skin like a second layer, heavy with the smells of sweat, animal musk, and a mixture of awe and disgust from the audience. Wrapped in vibrant fabrics that couldn't quite capture her exotic beauty, she took a deep breath, readying herself for her next performance.
The ringmaster's voice echoed through the canvas tent, an accentuated drawl designed to captivate and beguile. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Prepare yourselves for the extraordinary, the mystical, the incredible snake-woman—Nagini!"
As the curtain lifted, she glided into the ring with a coil of serpents following her. Her eyes locked onto the audience, a sea of faces, some excited, others skeptical. A haunting melody began to play, and Nagini started her dance, moving with a sinuous grace, perfectly in tune with her scaly counterparts. The snakes seemed to listen, enraptured by her movements as she spoke to them in Parseltongue.
"Ssslow, ssslow, then ssswift!" she hissed softly, and the serpents obeyed, making the audience gasp. While the crowd was lost in a world of wonder, Nagini was calculating each step, every flicker of her eyes, making sure no one saw the shackles that bound her to this life.
After the show, when the applause was but a lingering echo, Nagini retreated to her makeshift dressing room—a corner of the tent sectioned off with moth-eaten curtains. She sighed, feeling the weight of her dreams compressing her chest.
"Oh, to be free from this cage," she whispered to herself, staring at her reflection in a cracked mirror. Her eyes were pools of longing, dreams of another life etched into every facet of her gaze. "To travel the world, to explore and find a cure for my… condition."
For Nagini was cursed. Born as a Maledictus, she carried a blood curse that would eventually transform her into a snake permanently. The circus was her prison, but it was also her sanctuary, hiding her from the world that wouldn't understand her curse. But every night as she lay on her hard cot, she dreamt of breaking away, of finding a life that offered more than applause from strangers.
Meanwhile, in a dingy London orphanage, another soul felt the crushing weight of unfulfilled dreams. Tom Riddle, a baby barely a few months old, had eyes that seemed too perceptive for his age. Left at Wool's Orphanage by his mother, Merope Gaunt, who died shortly after his birth, Tom was an enigma to the caretakers.
As he lay in his crib, staring at the peeling paint on the ceiling, he was blissfully unaware of his heritage, of the wizarding blood that flowed in his veins. The orphanage was a place devoid of love and filled with echoes—echoes of crying children, of frustrated caretakers, and of a life that promised nothing but hardship.
Tom was unusually quiet for a baby, as if he knew that his voice wouldn't be heard amidst the cacophony of unfulfilled desires and dreams. As he grew, however, signs of his unusual abilities began to manifest. Toys floated in the air when he was happy, and a particularly mean caretaker found herself tripping repeatedly for no apparent reason.
Deep down, Tom Riddle knew he was destined for greater things, even though he couldn't articulate it. And just like Nagini, miles away but connected by a thread of similar aspirations, he lay in his bed dreaming of a life less ordinary. A life where he could rise above his lowly beginnings to become someone... something greater.
Unbeknownst to both, fate had plans that would intertwine their lives in ways they couldn't possibly imagine. As Nagini danced to escape her present and Tom dreamt of a future he couldn't yet understand, the world turned, oblivious to the pair of extraordinary souls within it.
Each night, their dreams reached out like tendrils, desperate to wrap around something tangible. Nagini dreamt of a world far from the limiting ring of the circus—a place where her curse could be understood, maybe even cured. Tom dreamt of a world where he was no longer an orphan, a world where he had power over those who looked down upon him.
Little did they know, their dreams were more prophecy than fantasy, foreshadowing a connection that would shape the fate of the wizarding world for years to come.