I know, another story. I'm not abandoning my other stories, this one has just been swirling around my head since the idea was first mentioned to me. That's right, this is another fanfiction user's idea and he has asked me to write it up for him. So credit for this story goes to solidShadow, he is awesome!

Summary: Has anyone ever wondered how the Slytherins first became parseltongues? How did the knowledge on how to create a Horcrux first come to be? What if that knowledge wasn't lost? Harry Potter died that day in the Ministry of Magic, but what if he could get a second chance? What if the knowledge of a spell only used once could give him another chance, one that wasn't doomed to failure? A destiny predicted before the founding of Hogwarts is about to come to play, and the rise of the Third Serpent Lord has only just begun...

Warnings: Nothing I can think of off the top of my head but I will warn you all if I think there is something in this story you will need to know.


"Blah" -parseltongue

"Blah" -english

Number -year/date

Salazar Pollux Black

Prologue Part 1

697 AD

Alexander Foul knew that he wouldn't remember doing this, wouldn't remember the last forty years of his life. All his work, his research, his life's pursuit, he would never know if he'd achieved it. He would have no heir to pass on his knowledge to, no close friend who could tell him if he succeeded. No. He would die not knowing if his spell had worked.

The eighty-two year old was the last living descendent of the Foul family, there were no cousins who could carry on the name and he had no children of his own. When he was thirty-eight he had returned to his ancestral home only to find the long decayed bodies of his parents. He hadn't seen them since he was twenty-three when he turned his back on them.

With his extraordinarily sharp mind and his unique gift of speaking to snakes, Alexander was the prize son his father had paraded him as. Complete with his charismatic appearance and advanced magical abilities, the Foul heir was sort after by every able witch in the country. But Alexander knew that he would never have an heir. Nature had both blessed and cursed him, for all his good looks, magical abilities and parseltongue inheritance, Alexander was sterile.

After returning home to find his family dead, Alexander set out to make himself an heir, to not let the gift of being a Parselmouth become a myth. After ten years of research Alexander found a way, a hypothesis, by creating what became known as a Horcrux from a living being, but further studies showed him that it was not enough.

Due to the fact that the soul parts are incoherent they are constantly fighting each other. Alexander predicted that a human Horcrux would only live for a short amount of time, thirty years at most. Another fact he discovered was that not one of his experiments had developed the ability to speak Parseltongue because the dominant part of the soul in the human body was not his. So he continued to research.

Alexander adjusted the light in the cave with a casual flick of his wrist. His eye sight was getting bad but he knew that he needed to hide his research. All his journals and notes had been packed into a box, and the box was charmed extensively to keep it hidden. The cave itself was on his family's land, hidden away where no one could get to. There were runes all over the walls and the mouth of the cave had runes drawn into the rock floor. Alexander had developed the runes a few years before completing his research. He knew he would need to hide everything from himself and anyone who may stumble upon what he had created.

The old man thought back on his achievements, remembering them now before he forgot them. His standing as an extremely powerful Parselmouth had spread across the country, drawing other magic folk to him for training. He was, unfortunately, too impatient to teach just anyone, so he took on an apprentice. His first apprentice had tried to steal his work, not understanding the protections Alexander had employed, and died a very painful death. Alexander had never found out where one of his journals had disappeared to. His second apprentice was more careful but Alexander was wary and only taught him how to duel. That apprentice had left alive and satisfied with the knowledge he had received. Alexander's third and final apprentice had only wanted to learn how to heal, and Alexander had provided for him.

There were many others who had wanted to help the man, and had become his experiments. Many souls were destroyed in his attempts to create an heir for himself.

Whispers of his skills and allusiveness had heightened his name until it was almost legendary. Some called him the Master, others called him God, and a minority called him the Serpent Lord. Yet Alexander never heard what he was called for he had retreated into the shadows after his last apprentice left, to complete his research as he could sense his time among the living was drawing to a close.

"Master?" a voice asked. "Have you nearly completed your task?"

"Yes my friend," Alexander replied, turning slightly until he could see his long-time companion Seth. Seth was a Death Adder, and approaching the end of his lifespan. Stretching to one metre in length, far longer than is common with a Death Adder, he had been with Alexander for twenty years and his advice had been well appreciated by the wizard. It was Seth who had suggested trying his research on a newborn child.

That had been more effective than his previous attempts, and had led to the theory which completed his research.

A complex spell which melted different soul parts into one stable and coherent soul. There were a few obstacles for this to happen though; first, the soul melting could not happen in a living body so the Horcrux must be dead, though not longer than three days. Another obstacle was that no living being could predict when the soul would be reincarnated, and this was the risk Alexander could not take, so he added another layer to the spell.

This part of the spell used the caster's soul to direct the soul of the Horcrux to anchor which existed beyond space and time, and this anchor was a person, a soul whom the Horcrux loved the most. This was where Seth suggested using a newborn child, as the baby would chose his mother and return to her womb at the time he was originally conceived. Alexander wasn't sure what would work for an older child or man, so the newborn was his only choice, but this erected another obstacle.

The Time Circle.

He had no way to know if the baby was already reincarnated and a Parselmouth. This problem was solved by adding the third and final layer to the spell. The third layer was in fact an advanced version of Obliviate and it was a part of Alexander's soul which was attached to the soul of the Horcrux. So when the baby returned back in time, the part of Alexander's soul which was attached to the baby's splits and travels to his counterpart. When they meet the Obliviate layer of the spell activates and everything Alexander knew about the spell would be erased.

Alexander had been researching the spell for more than forty years. Should it work, he wouldn't remember more than half his life.

"When are you going to cast the spell Master?" Seth asked as he slithered over to see the black, rune covered box sitting three feet deep in the ground, still uncovered but not for long.

"When I find a newborn child or a child who has been dead no more than three days," Alexander replied picking up his slithery friend. "That way I can narrow down where and when me heir will be born, even if I have no memory of it." Seth curled around the human's shoulders, allowing his tail to wind around Alexander's left arm. Alexander raised his right arm parallel to the ground and whispered a command word in parseltongue. The ground smoothed over and the black box soon became covered in rock. There was no hint that there had ever been a hole in the rock.

"There," Alexander murmured, allowing his arm to drop. "My records are safe. No one will find this place without a great deal of magical help. Even then they'd need to be abnormally powerful, and I know that there is no one more powerful than I am."

"You would not be the Master of Serpents if there was," Seth stated as the wizard started to walk out of the cave. "What are you going to do now?"

"I'm thinking that I should write myself a letter," Alexander mused out loud. "That way should I wake up one day with no recollection of most of my life, I will know that I did something worthwhile and will be able to leave this life content."

"Master? May I ask why you didn't just burn your work?"

"Because Seth, I know that there will come a time in the very distant future when my work will be needed. I don't know when and I don't know how, but my research will be needed."

Snake and human were silent as they moved in the general direction of the Main House. The cave behind them seemed to shimmer and disappear as the spells guarding it took effect, hiding the cave as effectively as if it weren't there at all.

Alexander only looked back once, he knew that he would never again walk inside that cave. That was the beauty of the spell on the cave, no one would be able to enter unless they already knew that it was there. Alexander hadn't found the cave until quite a few years into his research and had never shown it to anyone other than his snake companions.

With a nod to himself, Alexander turned his back on the rock wall. He had a dead child to find.

698 AD

A child screaming pierced the chattering voices and silenced them. Laughter was soon heard, the laughter of a woman relieved. Her voice was hoarse from screaming but no one could say that she didn't sound happy.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" she asked her midwife.

"It is a boy Milady," the midwife murmured, handing over the small crying bundle as she did so. "You have a healthy heir madam."

"Husband! Get here at once! Come and meet your heir," the woman cried as she stared into the green eyes of her son. A man appeared at her side without hesitation and looked at the child. His large hand hovered over the child's head, gently touching the dark curls.

The man was tall. He had black hair, as dark as the feather's on a raven, and it looked like his son would be copying him. His hair was tied back with a leather cord, revealing dark blue eyes and a firm face. A scar ran from his right temple, across his eye and ending part way down his cheek. It was a wound from a battle he had been a part of many years previously.

His wife on the other hand was a stunning beauty. Her hair was a direct contrast to his own black hair, as white as the moonlight, and her face was naturally pale. She burned easily and as such remained indoors most of the day. Her eyes were pale green and seemed large on her fair face. Her husband saw her as an angel trapped on earth, God's gift to humanity.

"What shall his name be my Husband?" the woman asked as she handed the child over. The man took the small bundle and held it as if it were made of the finest glass, something that would shatter if it was squeezed too tightly.

"Theodore," the man murmured. "Theodore Konstantin Slytherin."

To Be Continued...