Harry Potter in Avatar The Way Of Water

The forest floor was a vibrant tapestry of emerald and jade, alive with the hum of unseen insects and the scent of blooming wonders. A soft gasp broke the stillness as Hadrian, reborn and disoriented, inhaled the rich, foreign air. His new body felt alien, his blue hands tipped with blunt claws, his senses overwhelmed by the raw, untamed beauty of Pandora. He looked down at his slender, four-fingered hands, then around at the riot of green, a profound emptiness echoing where memories should be.

He tried to stand, stumbling clumsily as his long, lanky limbs fought against unfamiliar movements. A shiver ran through him, causing his tail to instinctively curl around his ankle. The world was too much—too vivid, too loud, too alive. He curled into a ball, ears flattening, seeking the solace of smallness in a vast, overwhelming world. The gentle light of dusk filtered through the canopy, painting the forest in shifting gold, and the soft glow of bioluminescence began to emerge, reflecting faintly on his own skin.

Then, a delicate, glowing seed drifted down, landing softly on his nose. Another followed, then another, dancing around him like tiny stars. He reached out a trembling hand, and they playfully evaded his grasp before returning to settle on him, pulsing with a gentle warmth. For the first time, in this new, bewildering existence, he felt a flicker of something other than fear. He was not alone.