Serpent Of The World

Hello! New story from me, the honourable, marvellous and all around wholesome Lady Miya. This fic is not like my others. For starters: I don't ship anyone in here. Hermione and Tom are the main characters and the story will happen around them. But why they won't have a romantic relationship is something that will become clear in the next few chapters. But, since it's me, there will of course be smut (but not between Tom and Hermione). I just wanted to come out and say it right now so I won't get angry reviews about how they don't end up together. The story is already finished (but still needs to be edited and betaed) so that's the way I can say for sure that they won't be together romantically.

So for all of you who hasn't already gone screaming in the other direction, here are the warnings: smut, death, torture, language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I don't make any money of this story.

Special thank to Ozzy (ozzymandius) who betaed this chapter! Couldn't have done it without you, love. Have some cookies!

I hope you like the story!

Chapter 1

It was with great sorrow Salazar Slytherin witnessed the destruction of Hogwarts. To increase his sorrow and anger, this was all caused by his one and only heir, known to the world as Lord Voldemort.

When Salazar had been alive, he might have been proud of his heir's power and ambition. However, after a thousand years, you did change somewhat. Now Salazar only saw the man as a hypocrite. Lord Voldemort had been born to the world as Tom Riddle. His mother had been one of Salazar's last three pureblooded descendants. She had run off with a Muggle and their union had resulted into the very disturbed Tom Riddle, who claimed to be pureblood, but had no idea at all of what was expected of a pureblood. Instead, Voldemort had just taken advantage of the hatred of Muggles and used it to get power. He didn't even know why Muggles couldn't be trusted!

Now, however, the terror of Lord Voldemort seemed to be coming to an end.

Salazar had been following the battle from a tower of Hogwarts. When he had helped to build Hogwarts, he had put his very soul in his work. Not like a horcrux, as Voldemort had done, but in a more loving way. An argument with Godric Gryffindor had forced Salazar to leave Hogwarts, but just one year after, Salazar had been murdered. Not wanting to leave the world, he had taken refuge at Hogwarts, which was so full of his soul and magic that he had almost been reborn. Almost.

He was more than a ghost because he still had some magical abilities and could touch and move whatever he wanted. However, he just wasn't alive. His body was exactly the same as it had been when he had died at the age of fifty seven. He couldn't eat or drink. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't leave Hogwarts' grounds and while ghosts could become visible whenever they wished, only people connected to Salazar's blood and magic could actually see him.

He was neither dead nor alive, and after a few hundred years of nothing exciting happening, he had retreated into the Chamber of Secrets. He had fallen into some sort of hibernation, waiting for something to happen. Five years ago, he had been awakened by a girl crying in the chambers.

To his great surprise he had realised that it was a horcrux that had taken control of the girl. He had instinctively recognised his own blood and it had been confirmed later when a young boy came down to rescue the girl. Salazar had watched with great surprise how the young boy, called Harry Potter, managed to destroy the vessel keeping the horcrux alive.

Not being able to see his own kin die like that, Salazar had captured the torn part of the soul and kept it with him. Once he had discovered what was going own, he was glad he had. Not only did the part of the soul belong to the last person of his blood, but there were bigger things at stake. Unfortunately, no one but him seemed to realise what was going on. They were all too busy fighting Voldemort.

Salazar had started to haunt the Headmaster's office and found out everything he needed to know about his only heir. Thanks to that, he had had four years to make a plan. When other fragments of Voldemort's soul had been removed from their vessels, Salazar had summoned them to the part he had captured. If he hadn't, the fragments would have ceased to exist.

Now, as Salazar watched the destruction of his beloved castle, he knew the time had come to set his plan in motion. There was only one small fragment missing from Tom Riddle's soul and once Salazar had that, he would be able to restore his heir. Then he would teach the little hypocrite how he should live his life.

xxx

Tom Riddle woke up, feeling very strange. He remembered perfectly well going to Potions and trying to brew the Draught of Living Death for the first time. It had been harder than he had imagined and he had been in an awful mood at lunch. Not even Black's latest stunt with scaring some first years with the tale of Slytherin's monster had cheered him up. Black had no idea what the monster looked like. Tom did. Everyone believed he had been the one to stop the monster. That wasn't true. He had in fact been the one controlling the monster. Just at the end of last school year had he framed that oaf Hagrid.

It had been enough to keep the school open for another year and now it was almost time for the winter break. It had taken Tom the entire fall to get Professor Slughorn to sign a note saying Tom could borrow Magick Moste Evile. Now he had what was needed to make use of the split he had made in his soul last school year when he killed that girl. He could finally make a Horcrux.

Tom remembered having these thoughts. Since he had had a free afternoon, he had walked to the Chamber of Secrets to start the process that would allow him to take the first step to immortality. He remembered entering the Chamber, but then everything became a blur.

Somehow he knew that a lot of time had passed, but he just couldn't remember what had happened. Just flashes that made his head ache. Had someone attacked him?

He realised his eyes were closed and decided to open them. Light was streaming in from windows close to the roof. He could hear water dripping and feel hard stone underneath him. Hogwarts. Yes, somehow he was sure he was at Hogwarts. Well, he was a student... or, was he? Something felt wrong. Why did he have the feeling he had already graduated?

An image of a parchment bearing his final grades and that wonderful feeling of triumph entered his mind. How could that be?

This was not the time to think about that. He had to take care of any immediate danger. If someone had messed with his mind, they were probably still around and he needed to know more about them. Sitting up slowly, he recognised his surroundings. This was the girls' bathroom which held the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Had he slipped on his way down to the Chamber?

No, the place looked different. The mirrors on the wall had been changed, the doors to the loos had a new colour and the place was too quiet. Usually he had to avoid at least a couple of Hufflepuff girls, since this bathroom was the closest from their dorm. Actually, the whole castle didn't sound the way it used to. Something was very wrong. Had an experiment gone wrong?

Yes, he remembered starting to create the Horcrux and placing it inside the diary...

"Boy!" A pair of fingers snapped in front of his face.

Shocked, he looked up and saw a man he was sure he had never seen before looming over him. Tom hastened to stand, but his body wasn't working as he remembered. He slipped and the man captured him. His face was red with mortification as he pushed the man away and took a step back.

This wasn't good, he needed to get his body under control. The man had obviously done something to him. Tom looked at him closely. He was sure he had never seen the man before, but something felt... familiar. The first thing that struck him were the mesmerising grey eyes and the strange robe. The robe was... big. It was black and very well sewn, beautifully decorated with silver serpents. It must have had many layers and Tom wondered if the man wasn't feeling hot. The bathroom was very hot for midwinter.

"I can imagine your confusion, Tom," the man said. "I'll explain everything once I have confirmed that you are indeed you. What is your name?"

Tom was usually very quick to come up with solutions to problems, but right now, he was at a loss. His brain seemed very slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep. "You just said it, didn't you? I'm Tom. Tom Riddle."

The man nodded, seemingly pleased. "Good. How old are you?"

"I'll turn seventeen in two weeks…" Tom trailed off. No, that wasn't right. He remembered that he would be seventeen in two weeks, but at the same time, he distinctly remembered turning seventeen. He looked around again and noticed the sun shining through the windows, and how warm it was. In the distance, he could see leaves on the trees in the Forbidden Forest.

It was summer. Or spring at least. His birthday was in the middle of the winter. Something was very, very wrong here. Tom glanced towards a mirror and saw the same face he had seen the morning, before he had walked to his Potions class. What was going on?

"So you just remember the things you did up to when you created your first Horcrux. Well, the rest will come to you in due time. But why don't we take a tour?" The man held out his hand for Tom.

Tom frowned. "I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me what's going on. Who are you?" He searched his pockets for his wand. He needed it to protect himself. Why didn't he have it in his hand already?

"You don't have your wand, boy. My name is Salazar Slytherin, and I've brought you back from the dead. You'll show me respect."

Tom froze in his movements, just staring at the man. He looked nothing like the portraits or statues of Slytherin. And brought him back from the dead? That was just ridiculous! He couldn't die.

"You don't believe me. Well, you will soon." Slytherin (or whoever the person was), grabbed Tom's shoulder and forced him to move out of the bathroom. Tom tried to wrestle free, but for some reason, his body didn't have the power to break free. Swallowing the fear of why that was, Tom decided to wait until he had more information and had figured out what to do next. At least the man didn't seem like he wanted to hurt him.

As they came out in the corridor, Tom was horrified to see the destruction of Hogwarts. Walls were torn down, blood was splattered across the floor and many paintings and suits of armour seemed to be destroyed. The worst, however, were the sounds. He could hear voices, mumbling about the identities of those who had been murdered. Crying people who had lost their close ones. They went past a boy who just sat on the floor, terror on his face. A girl came over to him, made him rise and follow her. However, he didn't seem to be aware of what he was doing. His face was frozen in shock.

Tom felt personally violated. This castle had been his home since he had got here. It had been his and he liked it.

Who could have done this to his home? Whoever it was, Tom swore to make that person suffer horribly.

When they entered the Great Hall, Tom's eyes flew over the many dead bodies. He didn't care that they were dead, but it felt wrong to see them lying where he used to eat. This was a place for eating, not death! The whole world had gone mad.

"What should we do with it?" A voice captured Tom's attention. It came from a red-haired young man who sounded very frightened.

"I think we should just burn it with the Death Eaters," came the not-so-frightened reply from a tall, dark, bald man.

Salazar steered Tom towards the group of people where the two men stood. They were all looking at something.

"And we are sure he can't come back again?" an elderly witch asked with a worried frown.

"Potter seemed certain of it," the bald man answered.

An opening between two wizards revealed what they were all looking at. Tom took a step forward. It was a body clad in a long black robe. The head was white as snow and completely bald. The red eyes were still open, but had no life in them. There was no nose or lips. A white, skeletal thin hand lay in front of the face, holding a wand. A very familiar wand.

"Look what became of you as a result of following your chosen path, Tom," Salazar said behind him in Parseltongue. "This is Lord Voldemort. You weren't aware that making horcruxes changed the appearance? No, how could you. No one has ever tried to split their soul as many times as you did. It wasn't just the appearance that changed either… I know you are sickened by the state of this castle, Tom. Lord Voldemort didn't care. He was more insane than anyone ever realised. Is this really what you want to become?"

It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. Lord Voldemort was supposed to be all powerful, immortal. This couldn't be him. And yet, something inside Tom remembered this. How the changes had happened gradually. How he hadn't cared because at least he didn't look like his Muggle father anymore. He had thought it would ensure his immortality. Why would you look like a mortal when you weren't?

But this wasn't immortality. This was Lord Voldemort and he was dead. Somehow, he had died, and been brought back to life.

Tom couldn't speak. He feared his stomach would reveal his state of nausea if he tried.

Salazar led him away from the group. They came to the bathroom again and Tom was almost too deep in his thoughts to realise they were moving down to the Chamber of Secrets. No one knew about the Chamber. Could this man really be Salazar?

Down in the Chamber, Salazar took Tom to a room he had never been to before. This one must have been Salazar's personal quarters. It was decorated in Slytherin colours, but the furniture was outdated. The bedding seemed to be made of straws and the shelves were carved into the stone. A robust table stood in a corner and the bench next to it was covered with green pillows. Tom guessed that a thousand years ago, all of these must have been luxury goods.

Salazar pushed Tom down on the bench and stood in front of him. "You destroyed yourself and this castle, Tom. But that's not all. With your death, my bloodline ended. We can't have that."

Tom stared at him. "If you really are Salazar Slytherin, how come you aren't dead?"

"I am dead, you stupid boy."

Tom ignored the insult. "Since when can dead people do magic?"

"I put my blood, magic and soul into building this castle. That's why I still have my magic, even though I'm dead. A part of me will always live on in Hogwarts."

Tom's brain worked fast. "I assume you are limited in some ways, if you are a ghost. You are tied to Hogwarts, so I guess that means you can't leave."

"Don't look so smug, boy. You won't be able to leave either. I brought you back from the dead, and if you don't do as I say, I'll let you go back to the land of the dead."

"I thought you said we couldn't have that, because of our bloodline?" Tom quickly inquired. He still wasn't sure he believed Salazar, however, when he tried to come up with some other explanation for all the strange things that were happening he drew a blank.

"Yes, but I used my magic to create you. You are tied to my will. If you test me, I will make you suffer."

Tom leant back, thinking. "What year is it?"

"1998."

"What happened to me? The other me, I mean."

"You thought you could defeat some Chosen One. You failed. You died." Salazar looked rather smug.

Tom frowned in annoyance. He still didn't want to believe he had died. "So why did you bring me back?"

"You don't realise how important our bloodline is. Only we have the abilities that are necessary to control Jörmungandr." Salazar said, clearly getting frustrated.

Tom blinked at him. "The what?"

"Your lack of knowledge of history, especially our family's history, is depressing."

"I wasn't raised by any family," Tom said coldly. "I did my best to find out everything I could about the Slytherin bloodline. Nowhere was there any mention of a Jörmundong or whatever."

"Jörmungandr," Salazar corrected him. "It's a name. The name of our ancestor's son, who has been asleep at the bottom of the sea for thousands and thousands of years. But the world is changing and if we don't stop it, he will awaken and bring Ragnarök upon us."

"Ragnarök," Tom repeated slowly. "Isn't that the end of the world in Norse mythology?"

"You are not completely ignorant then, that's good," Salazar said, nodding.

Tom grimaced. "It's not like I haven't read myths. There wasn't much else to do at the orphanage."

"The myths have been misrepresented over time. The Norse gods were wizards. Muggles thought them gods because of their powers, and treated them as such. But they became foolish, experimenting with powers no one should. Loki and Odin were the worst. Powerful wizards who challenged each other in magic.

"Loki wanted to create new, even more powerful creatures only he could control. He created the first werewolf, the Fenrir, and that curse is still spreading in our days. But the most dangerous and powerful thing he fathered was Jörmungandr, the Serpent of the World. A huge beast, which grew due to magic to encircle the whole world. When he moves, the world shakes and continents are flooded. When he was laid down into the sea, the earth flooded. There are stories about this in every corner of the world.

"Once the wizards of Asgard realised how dangerous the Serpent was, they put him into an enchanted sleep. Over the millennia, it has fallen upon our family to make sure the Serpent is kept asleep. The power to do so is in our blood. That's why we are the most powerful Parselmouths in the world."

Tom let the information sink in for a moment. He had no idea what to believe. It sounded ridiculous. To begin with, had the Norse gods even been real? However, if it was real, then having control of a Serpent that could destroy the world was rather … neat. That thought appealed to Tom, so he decided to play along until he found out more.

"Why is it down to our bloodline?" he asked.

"Our ancestor is Narfi, son of Loki. He was only a young boy when most of the Norse gods were killed, Loki included. He was raised by Heimdallr, the one who murdered Loki. Heimdallr was a seer, and he told Narfi about our family's responsibility, and every child since then has been taught the spells to enchant Jörmungandr. But it has been over two hundred years since anyone from our family has done it, and he is beginning to stir, deep down in the ocean. It's starting to cause natural catastrophes around the globe, and they will only increase if no one stops it. Thus, you have to do what Loki did to Odin. You have to get a Blood Brother."

"Why?"

"Because we don't have time for you to father a child, and I don't trust you to actually stop Jörmungandr from rising. But a Blood Brother would get the same powers you have, and the same responsibilities. We'll find someone righteous, powerful and brave. Once he is your Blood Brother, I'll be able to give him further instructions."

Tom crossed his arms. "And once I do that, you'll just send me back to die again? Why should I help you?"

Salazar held up his hand, and Tom felt as if someone was strangling him. He tried to reach Salazar to stop him, but a magical force was holding him down. Just as Tom was about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, Salazar let go.

Tom slumped back against the table behind him, inhaling deeply.

"My powers may be limited, but not when it comes to you, Tom Riddle," Salazar said harshly.

Tom looked away, grinding his teeth together. There was nothing he loathed as much as when people had power over him.

Salazar took Tom's chin in his hand, and forced Tom to look at him again. "However, when I don't need you anymore, I may let you go to do as you wish, if you have proven yourself worthy. You are still my heir."

Tom stared at Salazar, making up his mind. He may not have fully gripped what was going on, but he was sure that there was some way for him to get out of this. But he would probably have to lay low, just as he had done all his life at Hogwarts. He didn't think Salazar would be as easily fooled as his teachers had been, but even Salazar must have some weakness. Tom just had to wait to see what that was. Just making a Blood Brother was probably not too much work. He would just have to stall until he knew exactly what it meant.

"Very well," Tom finally said. "I'll help you."

Salazar kept holding his chin for a few seconds longer, studying him. Then he let go, and straightened. "Good. First thing we must do is establish your place here at Hogwarts. We'll find your Blood Brother here. Tomorrow, you'll go to Professor McGonagall, the new Headmistress, and offer your services."

"Why?"

"Because it's your fault Hogwarts is in this state, so you should help repair it. You'll be a student who is of age. We'll say that you are from Sweden and want to finish your last year here and that you are willing to work for a spot. I've already planted some paperwork in the office; a request to transfer a student named Gus Dolder."

Tom stared at him in horror. "I'll be called Gus? Even Tom is better than that! Gus sounds like the name of a cat."

Salazar sighed. "It doesn't matter. You can be called Tom instead; it's easy enough to pretend that Gus is your second name."

"Good. But why do I have to be from Sweden? People will realise I'm not when they hear I can't speak Swedish."

"You know too little about the war to be a native, and it will take too much time to catch up on everything. If you are a foreigner, it will explain your lack of knowledge about certain things. Besides, Sweden has been neutral in the war, and wizards haven't been allowed to travel to Britain to help. And I speak Swedish; it's the only other language I've bothered to keep up-to-date with. I was born in the country that is now called Sweden. I doubt we'll meet anyone here who knows Swedish, and if someone asks you to say something in it, I'll be there to tell you what to say."

"You have been planning this for quite some time," Tom noted.

"I'm dead, it's not like I have anything else to do," Salazar said and then smiled. "Don't worry Tom, I'll be able to guard you all the time."