Categories > Books > Harry Potter
The tall pale one strode restlessly from one side of the room to the other. His robes swished angrily with each step. The subdued swishing of the cloth was the only sound to break the heavy silence, apart from the near-inaudible flick of Nagini's tongue as the great serpent tasted the air.
Coiled up in the corner of the room, the snake watched him impassively, motionless but for the flick of its forked tongue. The glassy, flat pools stared, unblinking, taking in its master's agitated pacing. Soon, the snake knew, the rage would surface as more than just the restless striding. Words would issue from the pale lips, words the snake did not understand, and others would come, eager to do the bidding of the master, anxious to please him.
The pacing stopped, and the snake's tongue flicked out, tasting the air. The red eyes narrowed, and the metallic tang of fury tinted the room. Harsh, unintelligible sounds issued from the thin lips, piercing the quiet and startling the warm, not-food creatures in the other room. The noises must have been a summoning of some kind, for in moments one of the subservient ones had come into the room, bowing and groveling. The figure that entered the room emanated fear, and the snake's tongue flicked out more frequently as it feasted on the emotion. Fear was far more satisfying than the sharper, colder needles of fury and rage.
The snake-tongued one turned his glowing crimson eyes on the unfortunate victim cowering before him. He barked another demanding syllable in the unfamiliar human tongue. The figure before him flinched, and even the snake could hear the weakness in it's voice as it struggled to respond. Sensing the turmoil, the snake slithered forward, coiling around the master's feet languidly.
As the other stopped speaking, the master turned away from the terrified one. Another short inquiry from his lips. The other responded much as he had before. For a few moments, silence cloaked the figures. The snake was not fooled.
The snake-tongued spun fluidly, and the familiar flash of green light illuminated the dark room. The snake's tongue flicked out once more, tasting the harsh electric tang on the air. A body fell to the floor. The snake waited at the master's feet.
The master turned, looked at the body for a moment. Quietly, he spoke once more to the empty room. The snake did not understand the foreign sounds as they came into being, sharp and dense and heavy. They were so unlike the sinuous, fluid language the snake knew as to be utterly incomprehensible.
The moment passed, and the snake-tongued spoke again. This time the snake understood.
"Dinner, Nagini."
Coiled up in the corner of the room, the snake watched him impassively, motionless but for the flick of its forked tongue. The glassy, flat pools stared, unblinking, taking in its master's agitated pacing. Soon, the snake knew, the rage would surface as more than just the restless striding. Words would issue from the pale lips, words the snake did not understand, and others would come, eager to do the bidding of the master, anxious to please him.
The pacing stopped, and the snake's tongue flicked out, tasting the air. The red eyes narrowed, and the metallic tang of fury tinted the room. Harsh, unintelligible sounds issued from the thin lips, piercing the quiet and startling the warm, not-food creatures in the other room. The noises must have been a summoning of some kind, for in moments one of the subservient ones had come into the room, bowing and groveling. The figure that entered the room emanated fear, and the snake's tongue flicked out more frequently as it feasted on the emotion. Fear was far more satisfying than the sharper, colder needles of fury and rage.
The snake-tongued one turned his glowing crimson eyes on the unfortunate victim cowering before him. He barked another demanding syllable in the unfamiliar human tongue. The figure before him flinched, and even the snake could hear the weakness in it's voice as it struggled to respond. Sensing the turmoil, the snake slithered forward, coiling around the master's feet languidly.
As the other stopped speaking, the master turned away from the terrified one. Another short inquiry from his lips. The other responded much as he had before. For a few moments, silence cloaked the figures. The snake was not fooled.
The snake-tongued spun fluidly, and the familiar flash of green light illuminated the dark room. The snake's tongue flicked out once more, tasting the harsh electric tang on the air. A body fell to the floor. The snake waited at the master's feet.
The master turned, looked at the body for a moment. Quietly, he spoke once more to the empty room. The snake did not understand the foreign sounds as they came into being, sharp and dense and heavy. They were so unlike the sinuous, fluid language the snake knew as to be utterly incomprehensible.
The moment passed, and the snake-tongued spoke again. This time the snake understood.
"Dinner, Nagini."
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