Chương 21: nagini past 3:death & choice
By the final year, Harry Potter was no longer just a thorn in Voldemort's side. He had become a symbol, the harbinger of Voldemort's downfall. And though the Dark Lord still wore his arrogance like armor, Nagini could sense the creeping dread coiling beneath his fury. His Horcruxes—the anchors of his immortality—were being destroyed, one after another, pieces of his soul crumbling away. She felt it in the air, a suffocating weight pressing down upon them both. She was the last defense now, the only thing standing between Voldemort and oblivion.
It was a bitter existence. Nagini had long since stopped wondering what would become of her if Voldemort fell. The fragment of his soul trapped inside her screamed for survival, drowning out her own longing for release. Yet, deep within, there lingered a faint, desperate hope: that with his end, her torment might cease as well. But she dared not believe it, not when his shadow still controlled her every move, every thought.
The Battle of Hogwarts raged around them—a storm of curses, screams, and shattered hopes. Voldemort's fury grew as more Horcruxes were obliterated—first the locket, then the cup, then the diadem. Each one was a nail in the coffin of his invulnerability. Nagini was always there, cold and detached in her obedience. But inside, she felt the fractures deepening, the unraveling of something ancient and terrible.
When the time came, Voldemort's desperation outweighed his possessive need to keep her close. He set her loose, his command as binding as any curse. "Kill," he hissed, and she obeyed, slithering through the chaos with deadly precision, her instincts sharp, her body a weapon. She struck at anyone who dared defy him, her fangs dripping with venom. But there was no thrill, no satisfaction—only the relentless drive to fulfill the order echoing in her mind.
Nagini could feel the end drawing near. It was like a shadow creeping ever closer, and with each strike, the fragment of Voldemort's soul inside her throbbed with fear—his fear.
Then, in the thick of battle, she found herself cornered. It happened so suddenly—one moment she was gliding through the field of bodies, the next, she was face to face with a boy. Neville Longbottom stood before her, ragged and bloodied, but determined. His hands gripped the Sword of Gryffindor, its silver blade gleaming with an almost divine purpose.
Nagini coiled, ready to strike, but something stopped her. It wasn't hesitation; it was inevitability. This boy, this insignificant, overlooked boy, held the end of her story in his hands. And before she could lash out, before her fangs could pierce his flesh, the sword came down.
The pain was instant, a searing, white-hot agony that tore through her like fire. The blade severed her head from her body in a clean, brutal stroke, ending everything in a heartbeat. As her body fell, Nagini felt the darkness inside her wail, the fragment of Voldemort's soul screaming as it was ripped from her.
Then, silence.
In her final moments, as her consciousness faded, there was no more pain. The cursed part of her that had been bound to Voldemort for so long began to unravel, freeing her from the chains that had held her captive. She was no longer a servant, no longer a vessel for his twisted ambitions. She was…herself, if only for a fleeting second.
The world dimmed, and Nagini felt something she hadn't felt in decades—peace. Her body, once a prison, became weightless, her mind finally free of the dark whispers that had ruled her for so long. She could feel the curse lifting, her soul breaking free as if she were waking from a long nightmare.
And as she took her last breath, the darkness receding, Nagini slipped away into quiet, eternal freedom.
Somewhere beyond, Voldemort screamed.
But Nagini would hear no more.
Just as she was losing consciousness, something stirred within her—a presence, a contract.
Do you want to live?
The words entered her mind, soft but undeniable. She understood the cost of life—it always came with a price. And this time too it was same , loyalty. Yet, there was something different about this offer, something devoid of mana or magic as she knew it. The terms were clear: she would be allowed to have her will, her choices.
She hesitated, sensing the magnitude of what lay before her. The decision would change her irrevocably. Perhaps she would continue in darkness, living as she always had—perhaps it would be worse. But there was a chance, however slim, that it could be better.
And that, she realized, was enough.
She wanted to live and so made her choice.
Next second Nagini stirred, the sharp awareness of her surroundings flooding back with a clarity she hadn't felt in years. Her body, once cleaved by the Sword of Gryffindor, was whole again. The memory of pain lingered, but the ache had been replaced by something far stranger. She was alive.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she realized the battlefield was gone. No blood-stained grounds, no clashing of spells—just a quiet room. She flicked her tongue, tasting the air. It was unfamiliar, yet...there was something in it that tied her to this new place, something binding. Her gaze shifted, falling on the boy standing before her. Young, yes, but she did not make the mistake of underestimating him. Not again.
The connection between them pulsed faintly, unspoken but unmistakable. He was her master now.
Her body, twelve feet long and rippling with muscle, adjusted to the confines of the room. She could move freely, yet she remained still, watching him with her distinctive, elongated head raised, her sharp tongue flickering in and out. The boy stood firm, his expression controlled, though Nagini could feel the tension rolling off him.
Her eyes, full of intelligence and menace, pierced through him, searching for his intentions, testing his resolve. She had been a slave to the Dark Lord, her will twisted and bent beyond recognition. Was this to be the same? Was she still just a tool, a means to an end?
Nagini's mind raced, but the boy held her gaze. His movements were cautious as he stepped closer. This one is different, she thought. She saw no cruelty in him, no madness like Voldemort. But there was power. A quiet, deliberate power.
Her eyes narrowed as he extended his hand. She could strike—easily. Her fangs could tear through him in seconds, and she had been conditioned for it. But instead, something within her hesitated. A battle raged inside, her reptilian instincts clashing with the faint remnants of humanity left untouched by Voldemort's poison.
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Author's pov
I asked you to choose the plot should happen and by mistake gave option 5th ' all above ' 😂.
Choose another one, since all can't happen at same time. Others will be part of that one.
# Should he:
1. Respond to summoning
2. Just travel and found queen as slave
If 1 st one chosen in #
1. Should he respond to Elisha Elfrieden summoning and then start protecting her kingdom while finding about about kingdom like of overlord and dungeons .
2. Should he respond to hero summoning and get as shield hero . Then Upsuring happened, he protected queen and her daughter . (Give some idea regarding plot of this one in details like what will they do)
If 2nd one is chosen in #
1. He finds Elisha/her daughter/ or both as slaves or captive , saves them , take them as slaves , makes plan of reoccuping Elfrieden .
2. Similar to above but this time it's Mirellia Q Melromarc
Just remember he still has yasaka & kunou.
There will be dungeons .
Also he will travel Hotd before going there and bring girls from there too maybe change their races.
Also some idea regarding power system.
Like jobs , class, abilities, level , magic, tier, race abilities or class , evolution,
Demi humans and monsters. A proper structure if possible.
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