AN: Hey everyone! This is my second Harry Potter Story. This is going to be a long winded story, just warning you all. In no way will this be short.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Anima Magici

Chapter One: A Prophecy of Snakes

A young seven-year-old boy, skinny to the point of malnourished, panted in the hot glaring sun as he meticulously picked weeds from the Dursley's small green backyard. His hands were covered in scratches, dirt, and bits of blood where he had cut himself too deeply while handling the weeds with his slightly calloused hands. Harry Potter, the boy-who-labored was having a slightly average day. Slightly, meaning bad as usual. That morning, he had slept in late, waking an hour later than his usual 6:00am and therefore had failed to sweep the kitchen, vacuum the house, and cook breakfast for 3 hungry residents not including himself. Uncle Vernon had literally dragged him out of the cupboard under the stairs, slapped him, and then threatened him to finish his morning chores before lunch or else.

The day slaved on, and the hot sun poured down his fragile back. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand as he stood back, feeling sun burnt, and surveyed the weeding job he had done successfully.

His bright green eyes blinked as he saw black spots in his eyes, and sore, he picked up the weeding tools and walked into the house through the back door.

He desperately needed a shower. As he walked past his pudgy cousin, Dudley made it his purpose to push him into the wall, jostling his sore limbs. Harry hissed, and waited for his cousin to pass in order to not provoke him. He learned it was best to stay still and not react.

Dudley spat at him and then laughed, his belly jiggling, before walking past him.

Harry walked into the kitchen, spotting his horse-faced aunt.

"Aunt Petunia?" She turned to his small voice and scowled as she looked at his dirty appearance.

"Go take a shower, you stink like the sewer rat you are."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia, ma'am." He dragged himself up the stairs, and after taking his shower, he came back downstairs, dressed in his dirty, too big shirt.

He met his aunt along the way, "Go outside, brat, you still need to water the garden, not just weed it."

Harry held back a sigh, and trudged out of the back door and into the garden.

The garden was situated in the backyard, a healthy forest behind it.

The sun was a little lower in the sky now, turning the clouds orange.

As the young seven-year-old went to the pipes at the back of the house to gather the hose for watering, when he heard a strange noise.

A hiss.

"He…"

"Hello?" the boy called out.

Harry froze. Another hiss caught his attention, and slowly, he turned his black mess of hair to the forest. Jeweled skin flashed in the peeps of sun that crept through the canopy of the forest and the snake's tongue flicked out, like to taste the fear radiating off of Harry.

Soon, quick, subtle rustles foiled through the leaves and greenery surrounding him and Harry could feel his breath catch. Dangerously patterned, precariously beautiful, emeralds and silky browns; the ground was moving in a writhing mass of hisses, snakes massed around Harry while he was frozen, petrified with fear.

A glittering, ebony Cobra slithered to his ankles, its companions quickly formed a circle around the seven-year-old

"You... have you called usss? You are…a speaker of serpentss?"

Harry jumped back, startled, his eyes wide when he realized that the snake was indeed talking to him. He could understand it.

"I...what?" The young boy took a deep breath and stared straight into the black Cobra's eyes, trying to lock away his fear.

"I…" and he blinked, noticing that he was not speaking English, but instead out came a hissing sound.

"Haha, Yes, child you are a speaker of our language. Such power, in a package so small. I can smell it," the Cobra's tongue flitted out, tasting the air.

"Umn." Harry tried again, watching the snake warily, "I am Harry. What is your name?"

"My name, hatchling, issss Nagini." She hissed, pleased by Harry's thoughtful introduction of himself.

"Hello, why… do you know why I can talk to you? Why can I speak to snakes?"

Harry could hear the nest of snakes that circled him hiss out laughter, some murmuring to the others, while a few chose to stare at Nagini, who obviously was some kind of leader in this mass of snakes.

"Perhaps… No, you are not the Heir of Slytherin, only my master has that rightful title."

"Master?" Harry inclined his head

"Yes, my Master, Hatchling-" She was cut off by a terrified, high-pitched, and quite girly scream coming from behind the boy.

"S-SNAKES! YOU-YOU-FREAK! I'M TELLING DADDY!" Young Dudley shrieked and began to back away as the circle of snakes turned their heads towards the intruder.

Just as the nest slithered their way towards Dudley, the said boy shrieked again and then promptly tripped over his own feet, falling on his pudgy self.

"Hahaha," the nest hissed out loud, frightening the blonde boy even more.

"FREAK! YOU BIG FREAK!" The plump boy got up and started to run towards the house, crying "DADDY!"

"Sorry about that." Harry turned back to the piles of snakes that slithered back to his ankles, the Cobra in the lead.

"Sssuch a polite child…much better than the fat worm that ran away."

Nagini tasted the air; "I sense something great within you. A power. Those who speak our language have the ability to do great things, you will learn later on in your life, hatchling. You will be feared and respected."

Nagini nodded, and brought her body up to his height so she could face him. Harry realized just then how massive the snake was. She hissed a command at the nest, and they straightened to meet Harry's eyesight as well.

"Farewell, young one. I will meet you perhaps in the future."

"Wait! Please don't go!" Harry tried to hold onto Nagini, but paused before his hands could reach her. He didn't know if strangling the snake into some kind of hug was a good idea. He didn't know where to hold.

"I must go Harry. I must continue to find my Master..." Something deep swirled within the boy. Roused from its sleep.

"Please! Nagini!" the young green-eyed boy cried out desperately, frantically, unwilling to let his new friend leave.

Don't. Don't leave me! No!

Harry suddenly felt like he had reached a deep, frigid well and plunged himself in it. Clarity reached his mind, and yet he felt as if the world were hazy, a soft pressure in his consciousness gave comfort and almost rocked him gently to sleep.

The feeling froze and the clarity bursted outwards and out of his body.

The grass that surrounded his figure began to waver, like a ripple in a pond. Wind flew away from him and around him, caressing an invisible barrier that encompassed him. Suddenly the wind picked up, and raised itself, twisting towards the sky; tearing grass out of their roots and flinging them haphazardly in the torrent of wind that brushed his hair gently out of his eyes yet roared at intruding blades of grass.

Harry's eyes were vacant as the magic began to swerve about him.

Nagini stopped, her head frozen as she witnessed the sheer raw power that radiated off Harry. She flitted her tongue in the air, carefully tasting the magic that swirled dangerously around the strange seven-year old.

It tasted sweet, like fresh air and lavender. It tasted dangerous, like the atmosphere right before a tornado hit the earth. It tasted pure; neither light nor dark. It tasted like what Magic truly used to be.

What her ancestors had told her about when she was with her nest as a hatchling. The Anima. A presence that was sleeping inside Nagini's subconscious made itself known—an ancient instinct that several generations before her had called upon.

She had found the young Master of Anima: the Master of Spirits.

Immediately, the nest twirled their heads and bowed, realizing the presence that was before them. All creatures of the forest lowered their heads as Harry's magic began to descend back into his body. Nagini prepared herself to enter the boy's mind.

She would lock his true magic until it was time.

Young Harry woke to find himself lying in a soft bed of leaves. The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the forest, and Harry found himself completely comfortable for the first time.

Uncaring, warm, and most of all, it felt safe. He felt for his glasses to his side when he realized that his vision was hazy, but was met with a hiss instead. Harry paused and sleepily turned his messy head of hair left and was greeted by a very large, black cobra. Harry blinked. Once. Twice.

"Good Morning Harry" Nagini hissed.

Blink. Thrice.

"Morn'in…Nagini." Harry slowly began to comprehend that a large nest of sleeping snakes surrounded him. He could hear their soft sibilant snores and he blinked again; confused. How did he get here? When did he fall asleep? What-

Dudley!

Harry immediately sat up, disturbing some of the serpents that were lounging on his chest. They hissed in protest and Harry murmured an absent apology.

Nagini looked amused. Dudley found him talking to snakes yesterday. He was going to be killed if he ever found his way back to the Dursleys. Young Harry ran a hand through his already messy jet hair.

He started to tangle his hair and pull it furiously in panic but Nagini wrapped her tail around his wrist and hissed, "Easy Hatchling. Calm down." Oh she sounded amused all right.

"The disgusting ball of fat and his parents have not awaken yet. They do not know of your absence." Harry plopped back down onto the scented pile of leaves.

A couple more reptiles protested and Harry muttered another absent apology. He took a look around him, and realized that although the sun had filtered through the trees and hit his face, he was looking at almost a glass like ceiling, although it was clear that the dirt mound over his head was made from compost. It was like he was in a den, but the ceiling was magically transparent.

Harry sat up to get a better look at it-but his head met the ceiling with a resounding smack. The reptiles about him jolted at the sound and found him nursing his head while Nagini laughed at him.

"That wasn't funny!" Young Harry hissed at Nagini, who was still writhing on the floor from laughter. Her laughs sounded like a mix between human speech and hisses.

"Hatchling, it most definitely was." The cobra finally began to calm down, settling contently on Harry's lap. The glasses wearing youth raised his head a little more carefully, wondering where they were.

"You are in my den, Harry."

"Your den…? Oh! Your home!"

"Yesss, one of them." Harry looked about them once more, noticing the sparkle of morning dew on the transparent ceiling.

"Cool." Nagini looked pleased at the compliment. But straightened when she remembered her duty. The other serpents peered at their leader, waiting for her to address the young master.

"Harry…Come here child, I must tell you something very important." Harry scooted closer to her, curious.

"Hatchling, there is a very powerful magic residing in you. Magic called The Anima. It is the true nature of magic….

Once, a long time ago, a little after the earth and humans were born, there lived a man who lived in a humble village that surrounded a large lake. He had a special gift, one that the other villagers were afraid of because humans naturally are afraid of what they do not understand. This man could control the elements, water, fire, earth, and air. He could conjure items out of thin air, and move them about as he wished. He could fly without wings and dive into the lake without the need for air. He could do many things. But the one gift that the villagers were scared of most, was his ability to communicate to animals. He knew the languages of all creatures and often spent time just conversing with them. But the villagers saw it as a sign that one day, the man would lead the animals to feed upon the villagers' children. They shunned him as a beast.

One would wonder why this great man did not just persuade them using his charismatic charms and beautiful magic to make friends with the villagers. One would wonder why this great man never travelled outside of his village. He knew, by some unspeakable force, that he could never leave the village nor persuade the people using magic. Even as a small boy, he knew that if he were to go outside the village or persuade the people, the entire village would crash into flames, and his mother, the only one left of his family, along with all the citizens would be tortured to death by an unseen force. So you see, this man could never abandon his village, for his heart was too strong.

After falling in love with another villager, he had two children: A boy and a girl. The boy was a fantastic bowman. He could bend the trees to his will, he could dive into water without air like his father, he could control the earth and water to do his bidding, and he could also speak with the animals that wandered through the village. The boy was a heroic character, strong and proud like his father, he often saved villagers from danger, yet he was always scolded or beaten upon saving them.

The girl, on the other hand, was quiet. She could summon the light from the sun, cast fire amongst the frozen dunes her brother created, she could fly without wings like her father, she was a master swordsman, and could also speak with animals. While the boy was a heroic character, his sister was never involved in his business. She stayed clear of the villagers, silently protected them, and darted amongst them in plain daylight, like she was invisible.

A day came that an oracle had traveled to their village. She witnessed the heirs of the man with great power. She witnessed their fates as well. She warned the great man of his children.

The Daughter is deceitful

The Son is regretful

Both will turn on their birthplace

And cause fire to their world

Separate at birth, the Master of Anima

He gave to his children

The light and the dark

The silence and the sorrow

Hand in Hand. They will cause

Destruction to their world.

The Masters of Anima.

The dragons will clash.

The man will suffer.

The serpents will serve him.

Because they are his gift

The last of the Anima

Will spread his power.

The world will crumble

Lest he kill his own

Beware the darkness

Beware the light

Before him is clarity

The pure and resolute

He must find the one

Who balances his clarity

With haziness and mystery.

He is left with but a gift

Until the next master arises.

The man was greatly distraught. He quickly told the oracle to get out of the village, but she refused, asking to see his children once more. Angry, the father used his magic to push her out of the door and was thrown out of the village. By then, his son and daughter had returned from catching the family's dinner in the lake. They saw their father using his magic to push out the old oracle and immediately they were curious. They had never seen their father use magic on any of the villagers before. Their mother was placing dishes on the table, and the siblings glanced at each other, wondering.

The 17-year-old boy, adventurous, snuck out during the day a few days later, in search for the old woman that their father had tossed out. He tossed his long head of jet-black hair over his shoulder and strode through the village quietly. The rest of the village had gone to their daily hunting, and their father and mother were taking a nap in their house. His sister had disappeared again, but he was not worried.

The animals that he passed bowed to him in silent greeting. His favorite animal, a snake he had nursed back to health when he was just 5, slithered onto his shoulders and wrapped itself loosely around his neck. Snickering, the young man asked the earth if the old oracle was anywhere. The dirt around him suddenly shifted, rising from the ground and pointing itself in the direction of the oracle. She had not left the outskirts of the village. As he padded by, he felt the moisture in the air slowly drying out, but the young man paid no attention to it, for the shift of moisture in the air was always occurring. He summoned his shadow, and raised it from the ground, walking with it hand in hand as he walked towards the oracle. His shadow could find the oracle much quicker than he could. He let the shadow go, and it melted to the ground, splitting itself into there sections. But before he could command the shadow to move, he heard an ear-splitting scream coming from the boundary of the village. Recognizing his sister, he snapped back his shadow and sped towards the boundaries of the village.

His sister was lying in a pool of her own blood, her long coal hair splayed across her back, her own sword was thrust into her chest, pinning her to the ground. The brother looked on, as she coughed, trying to speak. He shakily placed his hands on her sword, and with tears in his eyes; he drew the sword out of her flesh. A wet, sickening slick sound sounded in the air, and his sister cried out again. He muttered a quick healing spell, and waved his hand over the blood around her and on her clothes, instantly the blood was banished. His sister's breathing was slowing to deep breaths, and she tore her teary eyes to her brother.

Whispering, "Mother. Mother was taken out of the village." The look in her eyes was odd. The boy thought. It looked, deranged, twisted.

She sneered.

The sunlight split when it came to the sister, it bent and swirled about her, and as it picked her up, her eyes went blank. Her black hair flowed about her like twisting snakes. The sunlight poured onto her skin, and she sparkled, her eyes opening again. The Brother was horrified. Gone were the sweet almost frigid blue eyes she had inherited, and in place was ruby red. Blood red. She cackled, and the sunlight grew intense, it started to boil his skin. The brother called upon his shadows again, but before he could block himself, his sister threw him out of the boundaries of the village. He landed on a disillusioned carcass, and hesitantly, removed the charm. His dead mother's head was staring at him, accusingly. Those blue eyes stared at him, piercing. You. You did this. You let your sister kill me. Her body was mutilated beyond repair. The brother scrambled backwards, and only then did he notice that his sister had floated towards him, sobbing.

"Merlin! Merlin please help me!" Her body seemed to be twisting itself inwards.

"Help me fight this evil being brother! It's taken over my body!" Merlin watched her, confused. Did she kill their mother? Was it some evil force she was battling with? He shook his head, clearing his mind and raising the shadows to smother the light. He didn't know who to trust anymore.

The sister, finally on the ground, fell to her knees and shook.

"Ariana?" He sat next to her, and when she looked up he jumped away. The sneer that was on her face before had even more disturbing features to it. She grinned maniacally, cackling, her body shaking from laughter.

"It's your fault Merlin. Your fault Mother's dead!" She laughed at the sky. Her eyes were unfocused.

"The village is gone now!" and she celebrated, her blood-colored eyes rolling towards him like a deranged doll.

"You'll be gone too."

And Merlin ran back to the village, back over the border that he realized he had been thrown over. He scrambled back, tears flooding from his eyes. The ground underneath him crackled and the water that formed from the atmosphere circled him. His magic twisting out of his control. He saw his father, hands on the ground and kneeling before the roaring flames that encompassed the village. The great man sobbed as he heard the villagers screaming from unspeakable torture. He could hear their bones snapping, limbs being torn apart one by one. He could hear the children being raped and pinned to the walls like paper dolls. The great man turned to his son, who was curled on the dirt road, the boy's heart sinking with the greatest regret.

His daughter is deceitful.

His son is regretful.

Harry shivered as Nagini told the story to him. The snakes around him provided a slithery comfort. The boy lay down in the light filled den and was rubbing his arms, trying to still the discomfort that he felt distorting his mind like a writhing creature. Nagini paused in the story to look at the young one. He was curled up in the nest of snakes and she slithered to him, black eyes shining, and nudged his cheek with her nose. She sighed with a hiss, and gently prodded his cheek again.

"Dear Harry. My dear little hatchling. Perhaps I shall tell you the rest of this story when you have grown and suffered your own path." Harry lifted his head in shock.

"Wh-what? No! Continue! I can handle it…" the boy tried to scramble for an excuse so he could hear the rest of the story.

"No child. I shall not tell you more. In fact, I must continue my journey to find my master's soul. I am part of him, yet for some reason, I cannot feel him. I know he is alive. He must be." She slithered to his lap.

"Besides, Harry, your relatives will wake very very soon. You must return to them."

"I don't want to go back! Please, you don't know what they do… they will kill me!" Harry begged his friend.

"Harry, I made sure that they do not remember our encounter. I made sure that, by the time you enter that house, you will also forget about me. About my nest. And the story. " Nagini pressed her nose against Harry's cheek again. She was sad that she had to lock away his memories about their encounter, but Harry was too young to control the Anima. He had to be of age and so she locked away the majority of his magic as well, there would be a time where he would be strong enough to unlock it. Plus she really had to find her master.

"Tom… My hatchling and my master… if you ever meet him…" The cobra hesitated, "When you meet him. You will be powerful together. You will be able to control everything… you will understand the greatness you were born into Harry." And with a pulse of parselmagic, she knocked him out and ordered the nest to take him back to his home.

Nagini lifted her head to the sky.

"Tom…Where are you?"

Time Skip: Two Years Later…

The wispy figure floated about the dark forest. His cloak dissolved into mist, much like a dementor's robes would. But he was no dementor. He had no body; he was a corporeal soul that flitted about in a torn existence between life and death. Every night, this flitting shadow would travel through the forest, lost and confused. He could not remember who he was, or what he was. Yet all he had was knowledge, his name, and every spell, every curse, every memory of how to use magic. He was left with the unmanageable fear… of death.

The soul, but not yet ghost, as something tied him to the world of the living, sighed. He did not count, but it had seemed to be at least eight years since he found himself a transparent body on this earth.

The soul sighed again. No memory of his former self, he glanced at his long, pale fingers. Brushing the wavy black hair from his face and away from his piercing obsidian eyes that would sometimes flash a deep, frigid blue. He had handsome features, pale, almost angelic. He seemed to be around the age of his early thirties, yet in actuality, he was 62. The obvious signs that he was a wizard. A powerful one, if his extremely slow aging proved anything. Strong, powerful wizards could live for 90 years and still look like they were in their late thirties. By then, age did not matter as much as magic did.

Despite his floating self, the robes he wore still outlined his muscular physique, trained obviously through battle and dueling. He trekked onwards, perhaps to find something other than animals to possess or serpents to talk to. It seemed that humans could not see him, and the soul sighed once more, watching no cloud come from his mouth despite the frigid air. He felt emptiness, not loneliness per say, but an emptiness when he did not know who he was. He felt like he was missing a vital part of his soul. Much of his soul actually.

The beautiful spirit wandered amongst the trees, eventually leading out into the moonlight and on the edges of the forest he passed through. He spotted a dingy little house on the corner of the suburban neighborhood. A crooked sign that stated, "Privet Drive" creaked in the wind that flew through his form. A couple of leaves passed through him as well as the billowing figure crossed the grass, over to the garden the house sported. He reached down to try to touch the petunias that were standing in ground when he felt a jerk coming from his heart. A calling, a painful tug and longing like he had never felt before. He cried out a bit, falling to his knees and placing one hand over his tugging heart.

Suddenly hearing a gasp, he turned his pale face towards the sidewalk.

A young boy with round glasses, black tousled hair, and the most striking green eyes were staring straight at him.

It couldn't be. There was no way that this young boy, who looked merely nine, could spot him. Right?

The black mop of hair tilted its head, his mouth still agape. He could see through the man standing in their garden! And he looked just about as shocked as the young boy was. Harry, slowly closing his jaw, padded carefully towards the "ghost" as he dubbed it.

The man stared at the boy with curiosity. Someone could finally see him? The pull he felt. Could it have come from the boy?

"Um," the boy started and the man snapped his attention back to the young figure that was shuffling closer to him. Those green eyes staring at him warily.

There was only silence as the two met each other.

The handsome spirit felt another tug coming from the boy, something unexplainable. Like he had found some piece of his soul that he had been missing for eight years.

"Um," the boy tried again once he got closer. "Who… Who are you?"

The figure blinked at the boy, and in a quiet voice, for he had not spoken in his own human language for a long time:

"I am Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle."

AN: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter so far!

In other news, I am in desperate need of a beta reader! If anyone wants to volunteer, send me a message or express your interest in a review.

Yes, the legend is very long winded, but don't worry, you won't encounter it for a little while again.

Next: Tom and Harry converse!

Remember to review!

-Petaldancer